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arteastica · 9 months

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (1)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters). no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.1k

One could say it was the most important night of that summer. Even the cloudless sky had allowed the stars to witness the scene unfolding beneath, and only the occasional barking of faraway dogs interrupted the silence. It was the night decisions were awaiting to be made. The type of life-defining decisions that no teenager should ever be expected, or rather forced, to make. Luckily for you, you were a couple of years ahead, ahead enough to not be considered a teenager anymore. And maybe this was the reason why looking around and seeing the tightly clenched fists, trembling jaws, and sweaty foreheads of your 15-year-old Training Corps classmates made you realize that you honestly didn’t know what you were doing in the middle of it all.

The choice was simple for those who actually had one. As it was tradition, the top ten students of the class would be allowed to choose the best out of the three options presented: to join the Military Police and enjoy the safety and commodities that came with life in the innermost wall, to settle for a more humble lifestyle by doing whatever it is that they do in the Garrison, or to put their lives in the line for humanity in the Survey Corps. With young brains still under construction, no one could be trusted to make the right call. The definition of ‘right call’ being ‘one you wouldn’t regret years in the future, or next week when a titan had you in their grip.’ However, you believed that joining the Military Police came with significantly lower risks of regret. And that’s why the MP was the one you were aiming for. Or would have, if you were part of that coveted top 10. That would have been ideal.

Ideal. In an ideal world, no one would have to make such a crucial decision at that age. In fact, there wouldn’t even be crucial decisions to make, in the first place. But this wasn’t an ideal world. It was far from that. A quick glance around at the faces you had gotten used to seeing for the last 3 years was enough of a reminder, in case you had forgotten. But who could forget? All of them standing next to you had either lost someone or everyone precious in their lives when the Wall fell. Luckily for you, however, you had your immediate family alive and well in the capital. And although you didn’t own enough wealth to be accepted into the social circles of the rich, you lived a comfortable life, and most importantly, a safe one. That’s why it came as a shock to your family when you enlisted as a-

“We will reach that basement in Shiganshina. However, this requires us to retake Wall Maria”

Retake what? Your backstory was left pending for another night. Because, before you could start narrating it to yourself, a solemn, modulated voice pulled you out of your thoughts, your head instinctively turning to the stage to locate the source. And that was the first time you saw him: The 13th commander of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith himself.

“But with the Trost gate permanently sealed, we’ll have to take the long way around from Karanes in the east”

You had heard stories about Erwin Smith. A man of unyielding drive, an iron-willed leader, a liberator, you believed you heard someone called him once. And of course there was also ‘reckless’, ‘demented’, and ‘out of it’, all of which were adjectives commonly tied to his name, especially in the capital. ‘Insane’ was your father’s preferred one, usually heard around dinner time when the topic of Erwin Smith’s latest outrageous expedition somehow found its way into the family table. And you remembered feeling sorry for the man on more than one occasion. Because, from the safety of your Sina home, the closest titan surely miles away, as you fluffed pillows and slipped under warm blankets of undisturbed rest, you had struggled to think of anyone living a more different lifestyle to yours than the commander of the Survey Corps, that one man relentlessly trying to attain the unattainable: to free humanity from the walls.

“It seems the four years we spent preparing a route for an invasion force have gone to waste”

And that night he also seemed to be trying to attain the unattainable: convincing a group of frightened individuals to join a suicide squad.

“In those four years, more than sixty percent of the Legion’s forces lost their lives”

You wondered if there was at least a single easy thing in the man’s life.

“Sixty percent in four years. An insane figure”

His voice was controlled and pleasant to listen to. Even though the things he was talking about were far from pleasant. Life scouting beyond the walls sounded as rough as it probably was. And you guessed that there was no way to make it sound appealing, no silver linings to be mentioned or talked about.

“Any trainees who join us will participate in next month’s expedition beyond the walls”

You had heard that his branch was in desperate need for new recruits, yet you could tell he had decided to let honesty do the talking that night. Because not even when discussing the dire prospect of survival of a Survey Corps member…

“We estimate thirty percent will not return”

…not even then he seemed tempted to make false promises.

“And in four years, most new recruits will be dead”

In fact, the more he spoke, the more honest and raw his words seemed to get. And while, so far, he hadn’t mentioned a single appealing thing about joining his cause, you felt you were beginning to understand it…

“But those who make it through that hell will become superior soldiers, capable of surviving anything”

You see, you had heard all the stories, but you had never seen the man before. And rumors had left out the part about how compelling he was. As he extended an open invitation to a potentially deadly celebration, his voice had a commanding yet gentle feel to it, the type associated with reliable leaders. He had an enthralling demeanor to him, the one that’s used to persuade. His words were softly spoken but rose-thorn sharp. There was something about him, the way he spoke, and carried himself. Erwin Smith certainly looked like someone who could talk the winter into skipping a year, or the rain into waiting until he got home. So yes, you were starting to get it...

“Now you have the cold, hard facts.”

After all the contemplations, it finally clicked.

“Any still willing to risk their lives, remain here.”

It makes sense you thought, why men followed him to their deaths.

“Ask yourselves, am I willing to offer my beating heart for humanity?”

Why they ‘dedicated their hearts’ as they say.

“That is all.”

Erwin Smith was intriguing. Very intriguing.

“All of you wishing to join other branches are dismissed.”

Muffled footsteps brought you back from the realm of thought. You looked around to find the previously full plaza now more than half-empty. You could hear Reiner’s heavy breathing beside you. Jean fiddling with his shirt behind you. Sasha clicking her teeth to your left. And despite the close proximity between your bodies, it all sounded so distant. As if you had been thrown underwater.

“Are you willing to die if I ordered to?”

Erwin Smith’s question, on the contrary, felt as if it had been whispered right into your ear. It felt personal and targeted. And for a brief second you forgot that, although almost everyone had already left, you were still not the only one in the plaza.

I don’t want to die. You answered in your head.

“I like the looks on your faces” You heard him say.

I don’t want to die. You repeated as you picked up your pace to catch up to Hitch at the entrance of the plaza.

“What took you so long?” she asked when you finally joined her.

“I hereby welcome you all to the Survey Corps!”

You heard Erwin Smith’s voice, now nothing more than a faint sound blending with the rustling leaves and getting carried away by the wind, as you and Hitch made your way back to the barracks.

“Did you hear almost all the top students joined the Survey Corps last night?” Hitch sounded particularly excited and jolly that morning. A huge smile plastered on her face.

“Did they?” You didn’t want to let yourself get too hopeful. But Hitch’s enthusiasm was contagious.

“Yep! And you know what that means right?” Your roommate gave you a cheeky grin “There might be a spot left for us at the MP after all!”

You were sure there most certainly was a spot for Hitch. But for you, that was a whole different story. You were no Mikasa. You were no Reiner. And given the fact that your physical capabilities were pretty average, even a little below that on bad days, you were certain you weren’t even in the top 20.

“Jeez. Woman, please look excited! We are set for life!”

She is set for life. “I’m not sure I’ll make the cut. It was the physical aptitude test-”

“Who cares? To hell with that test. What would you need stamina for inside Wall Sina anyway? I heard they don’t even use ODM in the MP. In our first year, maybe we’ll have to run after one of those random idiots who steal papayas from the street stalls, but I’m sure we can manage that much”

You laughed at the thought “You catch him. I’ll write the report”

“Deal!” she said “but once we climb up the ranks…” her eyes lit up with ambition as a result of whatever was going through her head. And you could tell she was plotting something questionable. But before you could start prying she added “Plus you did well everywhere else.”

She was right. While your physical performance wasn’t necessarily stellar, your academics were very good. As an overthinker, often worrying too much about too many, you overstudied for tests like no one in your class did, and your efforts often resulted in excellent marks.

“You’re right. Everyone save Shadis left something nice in my report card. Nothing personal, I’m sure”

Hitch nodded enthusiastically, clearly satisfied with herself because her words were having the effect she intended. And they really were, your head was starting to pitch more and more ideas to support the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you would be able to join the Military Police.

“You know what? You’re right, Hitch. We’ll join the MP and we’ll be on our way to the capital tomorrow.”

Wrong. Later that day, as you held the application paper in one hand, fountain pen in the other, you couldn’t help but snort when imagining how foolish you must have looked that morning, believing you would be back home as a member of the MP brigade. But there was no use in reminiscing now. You needed to focus and make the second best choice.

But focus for what? The only available options for you were the Garrison and the Survey Corps. And the choice was plain and obvious, wasn’t it? The Garrison wasn’t cool or anything but it was safe. Except, of course, for that incident from a couple of weeks ago, when that random titan showed up again, and tried to obliterate Trost District. Luckily for you, however, you had been assigned to assist with the relocation of the citizens once they entered Wall Rose, so you didn’t even have to see any titan at all. That had been a rare occurrence. And with the Survey Corps, the chances of survival were significantly lower. Zero for someone with your physical capabilities.

Are you willing to die if I ordered to?

Erwin Smith’s words from the night before showed up uninvited.

Those who make it through that hell will become superior soldiers, capable of surviving anything.

You could hear his solemn voice loud and clear, even one day later.

I like the look on your face.

Your hand now hovered dangerously over the ‘Survey Corps’ box, centuries worth of handed-down survival instincts forgotten in the blink of an eye.

I don’t want to die.

Your brain repeated as a last resort, right before the ink found the paper.

I don’t want to die.

Now it sounded like a complain more than a petition.

I hereby welcome you to the Survey Corps.

You heard him say, somewhere inside your head, as you turned in your application and walked away.

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arteastica · 10 months

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2023.07.07

#aot fanart #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot actor au #jean fanart #jean attack on titan #jean kirstein #aot jean #snk jean #aot au #anime fanart #jean smut #arteastica #snk fanart #attack on titan jean

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arteastica · 10 months

Text

2023.06.25

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arteastica · 9 months

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (2)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 1.2k

A mellow breeze blew against your face, making your horse’s mane dance freely. Above, the clouds drifted lazily across the blue sky. And beneath them, vast grasslands extended into infinity. Or until wherever the walls allowed them to, for that matter. But if the walls weren’t there and you didn’t know any better, you would be forgiven for thinking you were a character in one of those fairytale books you liked to read as a little girl. But sadly, you knew better, you knew this was no fairytale kingdom, and you also knew that no castle stood at the end of the road, and most definitely no prince on a white horse awaited for you.

The Garrison was the lukewarm option. You tried to rationalize your seemingly impulsive, and potentially deadly, decision. You didn’t like lukewarm. No, actually it wasn’t that you didn’t like lukewarm, it was more like you were physically unable to understand the concept itself. You operated under this strict all-in-or-nothing policy that you were sure would eventually lead to your own demise. But hey, if you were going to die eaten by a titan anyway, you might as well choose the cool way out and die with the wings of freedom attached to your back. They were rather cool. You inspected the hunter green cloak you now wore, and something about the way it blew in the wind pleased you.

But despite the fair weather, you knew it wouldn’t take long for your busy brain to find something that didn’t please you. And sure enough, this time it came in the form of that sinking feeling that seemed to originate in the pit of your stomach every time you tried to imagine what your new lifestyle would be like. You weren’t even there, yet you already felt so inadequate and scant. You dreaded feeling incompetent. You dreaded being perceived as pathetic and useless. And yet you had voluntarily placed yourself in the optimal situation for that to happen.

It also didn’t help that your now fellow soldiers were none other than the top students of the pack. You liked them. They were nice. But it was just too much. Reiner was an absolute unit. Mikasa, a force to be reckoned with. Armin, clever beyond logic. Jean, a natural leader. And Eren, well, the boy was a fucking titan.

You wanted to sigh so deep and so loud to see if it would relieve some of the tightness in your chest. So you did.

“We’re almost there, soldier.” Your superior said along with a reassuring smile, which you tried your best to reciprocate.

And he wasn’t lying. In the distance, nestled in a pine forest, an imposing stone structure started to grow in size as you approached, getting bigger and bigger until you finally reached its gates. And there it stood, rising proudly among the tall trees: The Survey Corps headquarters, and your new home.

It did kind of look like a fairytale castle after all, you thought. Very old, very tall and very…

“Don’t be too impressed” your superior warned “It’s nothing more than an old converted castle. Charming in its way, sure…”

Very charming.

“Okay, everyone, take your horses to the stables and feed them. Then come back and meet me here. We’ll start with the interviews right away.”

Interviews. Great. As if the pit in your stomach needed any more reason to grow larger.

Actually… maybe it was a good thing, you thought. You could be honest and upfront with them from the start and cut the bullshit right and there. No false expectations meant no disappointments awaited farther along the way. And if Erwin Smith’s speech was anything to go by, the scouts seemed to be very upfront about everything. You were a scout now, you might as well do it the scouts’ way.

“Sir, I’m not proficient at hand-to-hand combat and my physical skills are restricted” Very restricted. “I do handle the ODM gear well. And what I mean by ‘well’ is ‘with the steadiness and precision that is expected from a Training Corps graduate so that it can take them from point A to point B without major inconveniences’” this was true, otherwise Shadis would have never let you graduate, and given the fact that you just quoted the exact same words he repeated to you over and over again, you wondered if he would have been proud “my stamina and endurance, however, decline rather quickly.” Very quickly. “Therefore I don’t think I will be of significant assistance out there in the field. Please consider this if and when you are planning to send me out there, as I might get devoured by a titan a mere 5 minutes into the expedition.” You stated in a flat, matter-of-factly manner. “I have been told by my evaluators that my organizational skills are outstanding, and that my academic performance is satisfactory. Please note that this doesn’t necessarily equal intelligence, just responsibility.” That’s why I thought the MP would be the perfect place for me. But saying that would be inappropriate, wouldn’t it?

The two veterans interviewing you stared back at you with underlying suspicion. They must have thought that you were trying to downplay your abilities in order to avoid putting your life at risk. But if they did, then they must have been too polite to tell you because the next thing the man said was “Okay. We also deal with tons of paperwork here. And cleaning, repairing, cooking, tending the horses. You name it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find something you can help with.” said the woman beside him.

Fair. You thought. This was a big castle. Surely there was something for you to do.

“It’s such an honor to work- no, I’m truly honored to work under you”

The sound of footsteps on solid timber floors echoed in the empty hall along with the lines you had put together the night before. Outside, songbirds had already began to sing their melodies to the beat of the delicate raindrops falling upon the roof.

You had always found peace in that kind of weather. ‘The rain melts all the troubles away’ was something you told an old diary once. But maybe it wasn’t the rain, maybe it was your honest confession from a couple of days ago the one to thank for lightening the burden. After you were done with your interview, it felt as if a building had been lifted off your shoulders. At least partially. But whatever the reason, you realized you hadn’t felt optimistic in days, so the sensation felt as foreign as it was welcome.

You also realized you had done pretty much nothing but complain to yourself since your goal of joining the Military Police proved to be unattainable. And by the second morning in your new home, your pessimistic approach had already started to get old. One of the only perks of getting tired easily, you thought as your featherlight optimism knocked on the solid wood.

“Come in” said a voice you had heard quite a few times in recent days, mostly inside your head.

The blond man sitting at his desk looked up as you announced yourself. And that was the first time icy blue eyes met yours.

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arteastica · 11 months

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2023.06.17

#aot fanart #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #pieck finger #aot pieck #pieck fanart #attack on titan pieck #pieck snk #snk fanart #aot actor au #aot au #pieck x reader #pieck smut #arteastica

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arteastica · 9 months

Text

2023.07.30

elf prince!reiner

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arteastica · 11 months

Text

2023.06.19

#aot fanart #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk fanart #mikasa aot #attack on titan mikasa #snk mikasa #mikasa attack on titan #mikasa supremacy #aot mikasa #mikasa au #mikasa fanart #mikasa ackerman #arteastica #aot fandom #aot actor au #anime fanart

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arteastica · 4 months

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2024.01.02

buy me a ko-fi?☕️ ^^

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arteastica · 9 months

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Alright, hear me out. It’s early in the morning and you decide to go for a swim in the mountain springs near the base, only to find the commander has beaten you to it. You know you should probably turn back and come back later, and you also know it would be very inappropriate to stare. So why is it that, instead of leaving, you decide to stay and enjoy the view?

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arteastica · 3 months

Text

Early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (23)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (24) | (25)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.5k

“C-commander, you’re going to make me c-come.” You warned for the last time before letting yourself go. Where? Well, that was for him to decide, because your legs had stopped responding a long time ago. But you didn’t need them anyway; with his nails buried in your back and his dick, deep between your legs, you weren’t going anywhere. At least not anywhere he didn’t decide.

Like a starved soul waiting to be spoon-fed, you opened your mouth wide, a silent moan escaping your lips as you were about to taste the sweet orgasm he had so prettily gift-wrapped for you. Indulgent like thick cocoa in oversized cups, comforting like cinnamon upon custard, forbidden like molasses at midnight, or messy like melting ice cream dripping down your fingers. What would he taste like today?

You would’ve found out, if only he had stayed.

Because, without allowing time for confusion or emptiness to happen, he pulled out, slipped his arm under your waist, and turned you around, making you sit back up on the desk, where you finally came eye to eye with him, and the sweaty streaks of sunshine sticking to his forehead despite the unforgiving temperatures lurking outside your window.

His breathing was labored and ragged, like an elaborate quilt. Warm. Homelike. Handmade. But that was something you both had in common. Your chests, rising and falling against each other; your faces, so close you were stealing each other’s oxygen; his lips, hovering over yours, reminding you of butterflies fluttering around a marigold garden; making you realize how long it had been since the last time you kissed; and your folds, desperately dripping and clenching around the overwhelming emptiness, reminding you of how ready you were for that to change.

You lifted a hand up to his face, pulling him closer; your eyes staring into his, blue like the sky after a storm.

Or perhaps, the storm was just on its way.

Strong arm still wrapped around your waist, he smoothly glided back into you; his lush eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, and his mouth hanging slightly open, as your walls squeezed his swollen member. Suffocating him. Just the way he liked it.

Feeble, sheepish whimpers escaped your lips at the gentle intrusion. As gentle as the raindrops now tapping on the window, announcing the last rainfall of the winter.

Or maybe, the first one of the spring.

“I’m sorry.” He grunted against your lips, before finally closing the distance between you.

And even if he hadn’t spelled out the words for you, you could taste them in his kiss. You could taste it all, even though the tea you had prepared for him remained untouched at the other end of the desk. You could taste the lemon, bitter like regret, yet also fresh like new beginnings. And there was also the honeycomb, nostalgic like a sunset, yet sweet like the waltz your tongues were dancing inside your mouth. A slow, gentle waltz under the rain. His tongue, in perfect synchrony with whatever magic his dick was performing inside you, making you moan against his lips, just in case he didn’t know how good he was making you feel.

And the sensation of your mouth stuffed with his tongue and your pussy, with his cock, quickly became too overwhelming for your poor body to bear; your insides crumbling like sand as a sinking feeling took over. Not the type that precedes a bad day however, but the floaty, funny type you always experienced when jumping from treetops during ODM practice. And even though you were perfectly safe there, held in place by his arm around your waist, and your legs around his hips, you felt like you were free-falling, plummeting down into something unknown. And like so, you pulled away, deciding to wrap your arms around his neck instead, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder, where you felt the safest.

“Me too.” You whispered against the damp collar of his shirt. “I promise there’s no one else, Erwin.” Finally able to lay your worries down on his chest, as you let your weight fall against him. “Only you.” And you felt his grip tighten at your words, bringing you impossibly closer to him. “Yes, I’m yours. Only yours. A-always yours.” You repeated over an over, answering the question his cock was relentlessly asking, as it stabbed you repeatedly. “I belong to you and no- no one else mmmhh~ I don’t want anyone else inside me but you.” You closed your eyes, now saturated with tears, not knowing if it was because of how much you missed him, or because of how big he was.

But whatever the reason, your words caused his thrusts to hasten, and his nails to bury even deeper in the thick flesh around your hips, burning your skin like the hot iron they use to mark animals. And you called his name for good measure, just in case he needed further confirmation that you were his. You called his name as repeatedly as the drops falling from the sky outside. You called his name as fireworks exploded all over your body; your back arching against the muscular arm he kept around you, your head thrown all the way back, and your breasts in full display, like a ceremonial feast offered to a king.

And when your muscles stopped spasming, you collapsed on him, desperately gasping for air against his neck, as if you had just come back to life after almost drowning. And you honestly didn’t know if the moisture on his shirt was coming from his skin or your eyes.

While your forehead took a much needed rest against his shoulder, you looked down to find him still buried into you, your sweet nectar spilling out of your hole, dripping down his thighs like honey, messily sliding down the glossy wood of his desk.

And you looked up at him through heavy eyelids, a fucked out smile on your lips, silently asking if he too found it beautiful, the mess you had created. And this time, for the first time in days, he smiled too. His hand temporarily leaving the abused skin of your hips to tuck sweaty strands behind you ear.

Please fuck me again.

“Please stay.” You requested softly, clenching around him, hoping he wouldn’t pull out. Hoping things would stay as they were right now. Between the two of you. Trapped in your little bubble. His eyes like the clear sky reflected in a stream, like gentle sun rays tickling your skin, on a Sunday morning, just a little before noon.

I love you. Your lips quivered, tempted to let the words spill. I love you, Commander. But you didn’t want the bubble to burst. You wanted to stay forever trapped inside with him. Together. As one.

I love you, Erwin.

“Please keep making love to me.”

I love you so much.

He placed a soft kiss on your lips just as his hips started to move again. Unhurriedly, gently, indulgently. Like stirring thick cocoa together, by the kitchen window, on a snowy night.

You held his face as he sucked on your bottom lip, as his tongue savored all his favorite flavors on yours, as his lips condensed a million thoughts into a moment. And not long after, when the pace of his thrusts hastened again, you pulled away, not wanting to miss a second of his face when he came, something so captivating and artistic it belonged in a museum. Truly a masterpiece. His temples covered with salty dew as he panted for air, forehead resting against yours. And you had never been this grateful for the unforgiving training that scouts had to go through. You had never been this grateful for that early morning run he never skipped. Because there was no doubt in your mind that he could fuck you all night long. You had no stamina left, but he did, and that’s all that mattered. After all, his body was the one doing all the hard work, and yours just needed to bounce and react.

“Command-”

“I missed you.” As breathless as you currently were, your heart couldn’t afford the luxury of skipping a beat. Yet it did, your entire body choosing to stay silent, just in case he said it again. Because, the thing is, you really needed to hear those three words again. From those very lips that were now hovering over yours. “I missed you so bad.” He ran his thumb across your cheek, his touch as soothing as the gentle breeze from a faraway childhood summer. “Those days were the worst.” He paused, intently scanning your features as if carving them inside his memory. “Realizing I was no longer on the receiving end of that smile.” His thumb found your bottom lip, and caressed it gently. “Asking myself if I was losing you every time you closed the door behind you.”

“Erwin.” His sweet name on your lips, and salty droplets on your eyes. “I want to be with you.”

Forever. You added in your head, remembering the cabin in the woods. By the stream, a faraway windmill as your closest neighbor, the climbing hydrangea guarding the door, and the stepping stones leading up the hill, where the sycamore was always waiting, in front of the snow-capped mountains, the wooden swing below and its musical creak, its only company. Forwards, backwards, forwards and then backwards again. Never getting tired. And neither do you. But how could you? Waking up next to him every day, his bare back beneath the morning light; and making love, your only plan for the weekend. And if it only existed in a fantasy, why could you describe it in such detail? If it wasn’t in your future, then why could you see it all? Smell it all. Hear it all.

Feel it all.

“So do I.” He answered, his eyes like a sunlit lake, and his eyebrows like the evergreen foliage surrounding it.

“Erwin.” You used his name again, as if it was a promise; your voice impossibly breathy as his hips continued its satisfying dance, that by now had grown more and more erratic, telling you that it was near. You could tell, even if words didn’t forecast it: The cloudburst about to happen between your legs.

He buried his nails even deeper in the abused flesh of your hips, presumably looking for some form of stability as his movements became more and more unsteady. And he was so hard it must hurt. So hard you had to stare, not wanting to miss a second of that spectacular finale: his rich, indulgent cream, the sweet result of your lovemaking, a recipe you had created together, splattering everywhere like fresh paint once he pulled out.

But the thing is, he wasn’t pulling out. You looked back up at him, searching for an explanation, not wanting to get your hopes up, since you didn’t know how ephemeral his mistake would be. But it didn’t look like a mistake. Not when he was staring at you like that, so intently, as if he was fully aware of his actions.

You looked down again. He was going to come; there was no doubt. You felt it inside, and it would happen any time now.

“You look the prettiest when you’re happy.” He said all of a sudden, his voice a mixture of grunts and labored breaths, and his lips curving into the sweetest smile he had given you yet. And maybe it was that, or the window behind him, or the fact that it had also been raining back then, but your mind traveled to the very first day you met. So many nights ago. He had told you to come in, and then apologized for how boring and repetitive your days were about to get. All while smiling, just like today.

Oh, if only you knew back then.

“I want to make you happy.” He said, his eyes wrapping your naked body like the softest of silks, and his smile feeling like a promise, one you couldn’t wait to kiss.

“You already do.” You replied, voice filled with sweet adoration, just mere seconds before he collapsed on you, forehead resting against your shoulder, as you ran soothing fingers through his hair, completely drenched, almost as if he had been fucking you under the pouring rain instead.

I love you. “You did so well for me.” You whispered against his forehead, holding him like you wished you could for the rest of your days, and closed your eyes, enjoying the tickling of his breath against your neck, as well as that of his warm cream sliding down your belly. Someday, maybe in the not so distant future, it would be inside instead.

Or maybe not.

But you didn’t feel like entertaining uncertainty tonight. Not when you finally had him in your arms like this.

“I’m sorry.” He said, and the words tickled the sensitive skin of your neck. His fingertips were drawing soothing patterns on the tender flesh of your hips, but the tone of his voice told you that bruises and hickeys weren’t the only thing he was apologizing about.

“Erwin, I swear there’s nothing between him an-”

“Shhh.” He hushed you softly, leaving his comfortable spot on the crook of your neck so he could look into your eyes. His cheeks were so red, perhaps from being under the sun all day. But you liked to think it was from fucking you so hard just moments ago. “It was never your fault, yet I blamed you for it without even asking you first.”

“You can ask me now.”

“You already gave me your answer.” He smiled, and even though you still wondered what had led him to believe there was something between you and Leon, you couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tight and pushing the question to the back of your mind. Your eyes closed, and your cheek resting against his shoulder. Maybe you could try asking him again some other time.

“I’m sorry too.” You said, and even though you were only wearing your underwear, in his embrace, you had no complaints about the cold. “For pulling away all of a sudden, for leaving you in the dark.”

“You can tell me now.”

“Not now.” But maybe some other time. Because, like you said, you didn’t feel like bursting the bubble with your explanations and concerns.

And maybe you were on the same page, because he didn’t pry any further. Instead, he silently caressed your bruised hips and thighs. “I promise I’ll be more gentle next time.”

Next time. You liked that. You liked how those words sounded on his lips.

You took a look at the red skin his fingertips were tracing, skin that would surely be turning purple in the coming days, and smiled teasingly, realizing you hadn’t felt playful in a long time, so the feeling was as foreign as it was welcome. “I guess someone did miss me, after all.”

“You have no idea.” He replied, wistfulness in his words, as you pulled him back to your chest.

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @mchlist @apts2000 @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @lucifers-nipple-piercing @karmabyfernando

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arteastica · 2 months

Text

Early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (25)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (26)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 6.6k

Lord Koch started to prove you wrong the moment you walked through the ivy-covered gates of his suburban estate, early-blooming wisterias cascading down the fence and conspiring with the honeysuckles to conceal the impassable iron wall, making it look more like the secret back door to some fairytale garden than the main entrance to a wealthy family’s homestead. You had expected dozens of solicitous footmen, perhaps some even hired for the occasion only, busily striding around the gardens, flocking towards the guests with fizzy drinks on their trays and welcoming smiles on their faces, politely offering to help with their frock coats and dainty parasols. Just as it was expected at any other Sunday gathering in Mitras. Or Saturday, in this case.

Instead, the only ones greeting the guests at their arrival were the imposing cedars flanking the sunlit path that led to the placid, flawlessly circular pond in the middle of the main garden. After that, guests were on their own, left to figure out, or finger guess depending on each individual’s personal approach, which one of the sprawling paths before them could possibly take them to the place where distant violins, faint laughters and the soft clinking of glasses could be heard coming from.

It was clear that whoever got invited to the celebration should’ve been there previously, perhaps numerous times, and therefore, well-acquainted with the Kochs. Acquainted enough to know their way around the property and the complex system of azalea shrubs spreading in all sorts of confusing directions, flowering under the sun as their glossy leaves danced in the wind, something more like a maze than a garden. And you couldn’t help but feel that a map should’ve been provided with the invitation, or at the entrance at the very least, because there was no way a stranger like you could find the courtyard mentioned in the invitation all by themselves. And for a moment, a silly idea crossed your mind, maybe this was some sort of task Lord Koch had designed so the guests could prove themselves worthy of attending his party. It seemed like he wanted only his true friends there on that special day. But luckily for you, your father was there to lead the way.

Amidst the excitement leading up to that special day, you had forgotten about your father, your head completely monopolized by the thought of your first date with the Commander, because… yes, that’s right, in your head, this was about you and him, and not about Lord Koch and his birthday. He already had forty nine of those for heaven’s sake, but this…this was a first for you and the Commander; the charity ball clearly not counting because, one, you hadn’t been together in that sense back then, and two, you had attended as his assistant and not his ‘princess’. So it was no wonder that, between choosing your dress, the right underwear, and daydreaming about dancing head-on-his-chest all afternoon, you had been unable to reach the obvious conclusion that your parents would most likely be attending the reception too. And it was not until you arrived home the previous night, completely unannounced and looking to surprise them, that you ended up surprised instead when your mother excitedly broke out the news during dinner.

And your father was particularly thrilled about finally getting to meet the Commander of the Survey Corps, ‘the man who saved my daughter’s life’ in his own words. He was arguably more thrilled about it than about the apple toddies, and that was a huge claim to make considering how many of those he was known to chug down on a single evening. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited yourself, not about the toddies, which by the way you weren’t sure they would be serving when it was barely ten in the morning, but about everything else. Sleep had evaded you for the most part of the previous night, your stomach swarmed with colorful butterflies that resembled the ones now fluttering above the Koch’s blooming azaleas, and your heart gleefully springing inside your chest at the thought of him meeting your parents.

You knew it was not like he would be asking for your hand in marriage right there in the middle of Lord Koch’s courtyard. They would probably shake hands, maybe share a drink or two while your father expressed his gratitude, and then walk separate ways without asking your parents for their blessing. But, it’s just that… you couldn’t help it…it all felt so official all of a sudden.

Yes, admittedly, no one else in this world, besides Hitch, knew about the things the two of you would do behind the closed doors of his office, but…What did he think people would say once they saw you together at the party? This was not work-related, this was not some formal event he was required to attend as the Commander of the Survey Corps. It was just his friend’s birthday lunch, an occasion that didn’t call for the presence of his assistant. And, once your favorite ballad came on and you found yourselves slow dancing under some wisteria pergola, your hand resting in his, and your head, on his shoulder…did he think people would just shrug their shoulders and look the other way thinking ‘yep, that’s his assistant’?

Before asking you to come, had he considered the possibility that once they saw him pull your chair out, helping you in like the gentleman he is, possessive hand resting on the small of your back and your lips smiling lovingly at the gesture…people would undoubtedly start asking questions about the nature of your relationship?

Like you knew your parents were.

You didn’t know what they were thinking, but you knew they were thinking something. Your mother was too well-versed and frighteningly skilled at concealing her thoughts, she was too proficient in the occult arts of vanishing any trace of emotion from her face within seconds, before anybody noticed anything, no matter how shocking or scandalous the news were. However, you saw the look of surprise in her eyes when you told her who you’d be attending the reception with. It was brief and you had almost missed it, but it was there nonetheless. She hadn’t said anything, but there were signs. She hadn’t asked questions, but you knew she wondered. You knew she did, just like many at the party would.

So, all things considered, how could you blame yourself for feeling this was official? How could you get mad at yourself for believing this was some sort of announcement? Yes, subtle and silent, but an announcement regardless. And you were loving every second of it. As evidenced by the beaming smile you wore as you stepped into Lord Koch’s courtyard, the pistachio-colored tulle of your dress joyfully dancing in the balmy spring breeze.

You had chosen open shoulders for the occasion, a symmetrical hemline falling all the way down to your ankles, and dainty flower embroidery to harmoniously blend in with all the pansies and forget-me-nots of the garden. Oh, and no open slits this time because your mother was also coming.

The top was narrow and fitted, gradually widening out from the waist into a relaxed skirt, and you had skipped the puffy petticoat because you didn’t want Lord Koch to think you were trying to steal attention from him.

Your favorite part of the dress was undoubtedly the long puffy sleeves that fell all the way down to your wrists, made of semitransparent tulle and adorned with small, pretty butterflies that perfectly matched the blue ones on the pin your mother had kindly placed on your hair before leaving the house.

Considering the carriage he had driven to the base last winter, you could be forgiven for expecting nothing less than an equally opulent and effusive display of wealth on Lord Koch’s end, and make no mistake, the courtyard of his manor was a display of wealth in every sense of the word, just not the extravagant type. Somehow, it managed to be well-mannered and even unassuming at times.

His house was more like a castle than anything else, yet there was a comforting sincerity in the clear crystal windows and the way they would reflect the gentle morning sun; a graceful spontaneity in the wildflowers and the way they would grow in the most unexpected of places, whether it was a crack on the wall or inside the stone fountain at the entrance of the garden.

The wise willow, towering over the pond at the far end of the meadow, brought effortless elegance into an already gracious scene, and the glasshouse keeping it company looked like the type of place you’d love to spend a whole summer in, with a cold lemonade and a good book in hand, even if you didn’t enjoy reading that much.

It was there in the courtyard where you understood why there was no staff positioned at the estate’s entrance. Turns out they were all here, in the inner garden, one hand tucked behind their back and the other skillfully balancing silver plates, as they gracefully dodged the puffy skirts of the ladies and the walking canes that the gentlemen loved to sway around when gesticulating.

And you had to give it to the waiters, the feat they were pulling was almost acrobatic, considering how packed the garden was. The number of guests before your eyes, throwing their heads back laughing while joyfully toasting to each other’s prosperity, convincingly attested to Lord Koch’s remarkable popularity. He surely had a lot of people he could call friends, and you knew it was going to be pretty challenging to locate the one specific friend you were looking for.

You glanced around on your tiptoes and off into the multitude, but he was nowhere to be seen. It was going to take some time to find him, so you figured you’d better start now. You turned around to let your parents know, only to realize the crowd had swallowed them too. Figuring you’d run into them sooner or later when lunch was served, you took a deep breath and ventured into the sea of people, trying to stay out of the waiters’ way and making it past smiling faces you’d seen at multiple other parties throughout the years, albeit now they looked slightly different, and older, than they did back then.

As you politely nodded back to a friendly-looking lady whose eyes seemed unable to leave your dress, it hit you that you hadn’t mingled like this in a while. After spending what some would call ‘the better years of your life’ in training camp, and right after that, moving to the middle of the forest for the Survey Corps, you hadn’t attended a birthday party in like forever.

Not much had changed though, at least not when it came to the way you felt about events like this one, and certainly not when it came to the way they made you feel. The anxious drumming in your chest was still ever-present, and the uncontrollable need to fiddle with your hair whenever you felt a stranger’s eyes on you was very much still a reflex action. You didn’t know if it was because of the same reasons as you, but you felt like you understood Captain Levi and why he disliked such gatherings. You weren’t close with him at all, but maybe someday you could bond over this and your appreciation for good tea, who knows?

You grabbed a tantalizingly golden tartlet from a nearby waiter as he walked past you. As expected, only the food made these kind of experiences worth it. The food and, in this particular occasion, him, of course.

You nodded in delight as the caramelized pear melted in your mouth, simultaneously satisfying both your sweet tooth and all the butterflies in your stomach in a single bite. Buttery, flaky and unexpectedly rich. Once you moved to the cabin in the woods, you would prepare pear tartlets like this one for him too. The comforting smell of home-baked love escaping through the open kitchen window, riding on the gentle spring breeze as it caressed your cheeks just the way it was right now in the middle of the courtyard garden.

Our little cabin. You smiled, looking around to find the man you dreamed to share it with.

And you saw Leon, standing under the shade of the breezeway not too far from you, back resting against a pillar and a rose-colored liquid in his glass as he conversed with a tall, auburn-haired lady.

You waved at him from afar when his eyes accidentally met yours, and, not wanting to interrupt the conversation, limited your interaction to a smile. However, being the welcoming soul you’d known him to be, he invited you to join him and his companion by mouthing a silent ‘Do you have time?’

As you made your way to him, you exchanged smiles with the lady he was with. She was young, very young, as suggested by her round face and the plump, dewy cheeks that came with it, which you were certain would bounce like jelly under your finger. She appeared to be in her twenties too, although her small, button-like nose and other angelic features made you suspect she was a little younger than you.

Her fitted, velvet dress hugged her body in ways only custom-made dresses could, and the hunter green skirt, flawlessly accentuating the reddish-browns of her hair, reminded you of the winged cloak you would wear every day back at the base. The dark color, as well as the narrow, tight maturity of the dress contrasted the innocence present in her soft features. Features that were just as warm as Leon’s, especially when coupled with the welcoming smile she was gifting you with.

“My lady.” Leon’s soft lips greeted the back of your hand as it was quickly becoming tradition whenever you met. “I fail to identify the nature of the spell you cast on us, and forgive me if talks of witchcraft and sorcery come off as wicked or impudent in any way, but supernatural powers are the only acceptable explanation as to why your beauty seems to intensify with every passing season.”

You were only able to giggle, his convoluted compliment reaching your ears and pleasantly tickling your confidence.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Leon, and you happen to own the kind of eyes that only see the good in everyone and everything. But thank you, I’m flattered.” You admitted as he let go of your hand. “And I believe we agreed to use each other’s given names?”

“He completely refused to use my given name until, I believe… the seventh year into our relationship was it?” The angelic-looking lady turned to Leon, her head adorably tilting to the side in thought, and you couldn’t help but find it satisfying: The way her honey voice was just as melodious as you’d imagined the sounds made by those beautiful lips would be.

“My lady, this is my good friend Angelika.” Leon said, gracefully signaling to his left. “Perhaps you are already acquainted with each other, since you both live in the same ward.”

Angelika. You couldn’t help but smile at the gratifyingly fitting name. The leaf-shaped brooch on her hair looked a lot like a family crest, and the diamonds embedded all around it, as well as the ‘double-u’ engraved in the center, told you that she descended from a noble lineage, as you suspected at least half of the partygoers did. But what really called your attention was the prismatic moonstone decorating her delicate beauty bones, perfectly shaped like a raindrop, and making you wonder if the occult was among her interests.

“Oh please, Leon, the northern ward is just as big as my father’s ego.” She joked, taking your hand into hers, dainty and covered in satin all the way down to her elbows. “Truly a pleasure, my lady.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Angelika.” You returned the gorgeous smile she was offering.

Lady Angelika was endearing in a dignified, elegant way; and you couldn’t help but notice that her expressive hazel eyes went well together with the enchanted forest Leon had in his, much like the honey pistachio loaf your mother would bake every year in the fall.

And it was not only their eyes that complemented each other, but the atmosphere surrounding them as well. Much like the sparkling stream running down the meadow behind them, and the horses leisurely grazing along its waters, there was a natural authenticity to them. One you would have undoubtedly remembered had you been around it before, especially considering Lady Angelika’s remarkable grace.

“My lady, you ought to stop looking at me like that or I might start questioning my personal preferences.” She joked, a smile on her lips and your hand still on hers. “And I’m afraid ten in the morning on a Saturday is too early to have that type of conversation.”

“Oh, please forgive me.” You chuckled lightly, letting go of her hand. “I was just wondering if you were aware of the power that moonstone holds.”

She reached for the gemstone hanging around her neck “Oh this? Of course, Leon gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday.” She explained as her fingers caressed it fondly. “He bought it from a witch down south. Apparently she found it right in the center of the footprint left by that gigantic titan who destroyed Wall Maria.” You felt your whole body tensing up at her words. “You know, the first time it appeared. She believes it used this moonstone to make itself invisible, that’s the only logical explanation as to how a creature of such colossal measures managed to appear and disappear into thin air without anyone seeing it coming.”

Your throat felt impossibly tighter all of a sudden, all incoming air failing to reach your lungs. You didn’t necessarily believe moonstones granted anyone the power of invisibility, neither the ability to wander around only in spirit, and you had meant the question as a lighthearted joke, never considering it could backfire, and definitely not expecting Lady Angelika’s answer to make you reminisce about Bertolt’s genuine smile and Reiner’s sweet disposition.

“Are you, perhaps, also interested in gemstones and their magical properties, my lady?” Leon suddenly asked, prompting you to blink away the bittersweet melancholy and the confusion that usually followed any train of thought that led to your ex-classmates.

“I- my father- It’s one of his favorite topics to discuss at the dinner table.” You explained, chuckling nervously in an attempt to compose yourself. “Did you perhaps attend Orvud Academy, Lady Angelika?”

“Oh my, are you a diviner?!” She jumped excitedly. “Yes, I did! Until the eighth grade, before Father decided to move me and my sisters to another institute in Ehrmich.”

“Then maybe we coincided in the corridors a few times.” You suggested, feeling your chest lightening up the farther away you walked from the uncomfortable topics discussed a few sentences ago. “I also went to Orvud.”

“Maybe we did! Oh my, Leon, this world is so small!” She turned to her friend, the delight present in her voice, and the gleeful way in which she started tugging at his hand, made you think of a little kid trying to lead their favorite parent to the candy store. “Although I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t remember me.” She suddenly turned her head towards you. “I looked very different back then. I was so…outlandish.” She concluded, sporting the face of someone who’d just smelled the food that had caused them indigestion.

“Sometimes, in moments of dejection or self-doubt, I find reassurance in knowing that I no longer look, nor act, like I did back in eighth grade.” You said, her smile instantly evolving into a soft, silvery laugh that was as delicate and angelic as you expected hers to be.

“Next time I’m feeling down, I’ll give it a try.” She promised.

“Is there a reason why you changed schools, my lady?” You asked, feeling comfortable enough to let your curiosity wonder and wander.

“Father believed the institutes at Ehrmich taught better chess. I wanted to stay in Orvud because all my friends were there. Not to mention Ehrmich is in the literal opposite side of town, and even to this day, I still grieve the precious minutes that the long ride home took away from my youth.” She complained dramatically. “But I can’t complain. And neither can Leon.” Lady Angelika smiled mischievously at her friend. “That’s where he first laid eyes on me, and also where I became the inspiration for his first book.”

Leon smiled back, and it was the type of smile that told you this was a conversation he already had way too many times, yet somehow, still wasn’t tired of.

“Your beauty is indeed of remarkable proportions, my dearest Angelika.” He said, lightly raising his glass as if making a toast to his friend’s comeliness. “However, as we have discussed several times in the past, the source of inspiration for my first published work, or muse, if the casual scribbling I do from time to time were to be considered a form of art, was the cloudless sky I had the providential fortune to exist under during the summer I spent in Karanes.”

“Leon fell in love with a married woman, and she had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Quite scandalous. Isn’t it?”

Lady Angelika’s opportune translation painted a smirk on your face as you raised a probing eyebrow at Leon. And you expected his ears, as well as his cheeks maybe, to turn red the moment his friend’s words reached them, but you should’ve known better than to expect that from someone of such poised, elegant bearing. Instead, he allowed a relaxed, graceful laugh to escape his lips before a reply could.

“She was indeed married, but I didn’t fall in love with her.” He explained calmly, the easiness in his demeanor evidencing that he was already used to be teased by his friend. “Her loving husband and sweetheart of many years stands in this very courtyard as we speak, so I would sincerely appreciate it if we could keep away from distasteful misunderstandings.” He took another sip of his drink as his eyes scanned the room. “Ending the day with a black eye is certainly not one of the goals I set for myself this morning when I sat down with my diary and my favorite breakfast tea.”

“Oh, is she around then?” Lady Angelika asked excitedly, giggles decorating her voice as she tried her best to find an unknown face in the crowd.

“She is not. If you’d studied the poems with the careful perusal they demanded, maybe you’d know that such elusive beauty tends to evade congested occasions like today’s.” He teased, and his friend dramatically placed a hand over her chest in response, pretending to take offense.

“May I ask what the book's title is?” You smiled mischievously, curiosity tickling your mind. “I’ll admit I’m not the avid reader myself, but I’m willing to give poetry my undivided attention if it promises to uncover the mysterious identity of Leon’s first love.”

“Walking artwork. Talking poetry.” He replied, shaking his head in amused disapproval. “That’s the name of the book.” Your eyes widened in realization, suddenly remembering the blue book with faded golden letters that the Commander kept in his office, surely one of his favorite reads, and after today, one you’d definitely be borrowing sometime soon. “And as I said, my lady, she wasn’t a love of mine, but even if she was, I can assure you that by the time serendipitous fate brought our paths together, the title of ‘first’ had already been long claimed.”

Lady Angelika gave Leon a complicit smile that told you she knew exactly who that title belonged to. “Leon’s lust and uncontrollable desire for this married woman really comes to life in vivid colors thanks to all those forbidden words he so artistically painted her with.” She said giggling, looking at Leon as if trying to elicit a reaction from him, but all he had for her was an uninterested eye roll. “I would have given anything, even this very moonstone on my neck, only to see Aunt Freya’s flustered face once she reached chapter nineteen.” And the sultry way in which she sank her teeth on her bottom lip made you desperately want to know what exactly went down in chapter nineteen.

“I would consider it a miracle if Mother ever so much as touches one of my books.” He joked before bringing the glass to his lips, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was using the pink sparkly liquid to hide something that wasn’t as rosy.

“Of course she reads your books!” Lady Angelika exclaimed confidently, and you wondered if she too had noticed the same shift you had. “If I had a son as talented as you, I would never shut up about him.” She said proudly before turning to you. “Father used to get so annoyed at Uncle Hansel because he would never stop talking about Leon’s books whenever they played chess together.” Lady Angelika giggled, her eyes traveling briefly to the sky as if it was there where she kept all her memories. “Father felt that Uncle Hansel would just brag about ‘that gifted little nephew of his’ all evening and never focus on the game, which… even if we were to say that was the case… how come Father never managed to win a single one?” She chuckled before turning to Leon to clarify. “Nothing personal, you know how Father is. But I always understood Uncle Hansel and why he couldn’t stop gushing about his nephew. I was just as captivated by him.” She said fondly, and there was a hint of nostalgia in the sweet smile she was offering her friend. “And his work, of course!” She added rather abruptly.

“You praise me too much, my dearest Angelika. But my writing isn’t the slightest bit as impressive as your abilities in chess are.”

“Nonsense.” She said before turning to you, dismissing the compliment with a flick of her hand, a gesture that told you that her skills were probably every bit as impressive as Leon had implied. “My lady, I know you said reading is not among your interests but, by any chance, do you happen to enjoy ghost stories? In my humble, and probably very biased yet still fairly accurate opinion, there’s nothing like sitting by the fire on a blustery night, Leon’s horror anthology in one hand and something warm in the other, the wind ominously knocking at your window while his writing transports you to macabre dimensions.” She said, shuddering as a result of the goosebumps she had so willfully self-induced.

You chuckled, the lightness in you heart making you realize how rare days like these were. Since you had joined the Training Corps, and especially after becoming a Scout, it was as if the stakes were always high, in everything you did. It felt as if there was no normalcy in your life, or at least not like you once knew it. And, although you wouldn’t trade your life at the base for anything, you couldn’t deny that it was nice to enjoy ordinary moments like this every now and then. “That sounds frightfully enticing indeed, a perfect night made possible only by the comfort of knowing that, in the end, it’s all folktales and fiction.”

“Oh, but they are not fictional.” She was quick to clarify, shaking her hand promptly as if to make you understand how important it was for you to know this before proceeding any further. “Most of Leon’s stories are based off real life experiences, and that makes them all the more exciting! ‘Distant Cries from a Childless Town’ is based on the sinister events of that summer Leon spent traveling around Wall Rose.” She explained enthusiastically. “The second story, which is also my sister’s favorite, is about a priest who kept a human-sized titan locked in his basement. I won’t tell you how it ends, or how the titan got there in the first place, but from the title of the book you can pretty much guess, can’t you? What I will tell you, however, is that you’ll fall for the main character just as everyone does!” She made the face your father always did when daydreaming about your mother’s green tomato pie. “He’s loosely based off one of Leon’s closest friends, a super cute boy from the Trost countryside.” She tugged at Leon’s sleeve as if trying to get him to gush together with her. “His name was Jean. I met him one summer when he came to stay with Leon. Come to think of it, Leon is always friends with the dreamiest, most fascinating people.”

The way her eyes sparkled as she gazed into the sunlit fields, lips curved into a soft smile and fingers absentmindedly playing with the moonstone around her neck, told you that she was probably reminiscing about the happiest summer of her adolescent years. And you couldn’t help but chuckle, wondering if the Jean of Leon’s story was the same one you knew. He was from Trost too and, from your understanding, also childhood friends with Leon. And if it was him, you would have no option but to laugh at how comedic it all was. To think he had a secret admirer in Mitras, and not only that, but the fact that she was a member of the nobility… Heaven forbid he ever found out, because the one you knew, your Jean, his ego definitely did not need another boost.

Although, in all fairness, you kind of understood where Lady Angelika was coming from. Him and Reiner had always been the most popular among the ladies back at Training Camp. In fact, when you first met Jean, you had also thought he was really cool. It was the very first day of ODM practice, and although everyone else was struggling, he seemed to be a natural at it. However, you also remembered how quickly all form of curiosity and wonder had vanished, that same night at dinner to be more specific, when you saw him engage in one of those embarrassing fights him and Eren loved to have.

“He was so well-mannered and smelled so good all the time.” Lady Angelika continued her recollection of the events of that summer, just as your mind started to get flooded by memories of a very different summer, one where Eren and Jean never stopped throwing scrambled eggs and baked tomatoes at each other. “His hair was so soft and he was so manly we both fell in love with him.”

It was so sudden and unexpected, that you couldn’t stop your eyes from opening as wide and as inappropriately as your eyelids allowed them to.

“Leon and I didn’t talk to one another for weeks after that, until we finally waved our little white flags and agreed neither of us would pursue him. After that, we hugged and decided to go for chocolate pastries. We were so silly back then. Do you remember, Leon?”

“I would argue we still are.” He responded amusedly, bringing the glass to his lips and swirling the contents lightly before taking a sip.

Lady Angelika chuckled as she leaned over the handrail, her hair playing with the wind as she gazed at the pasturing horses, and you wondered if the longing smile present on her lips meant that she was still reminiscing about Jean. Leon, on the other hand, was looking at no one and nothing in particular, taking occasional sips from his glass until it was completely empty. And something, probably the wistful smile he was wearing, told you that he we was most likely thinking about those days too.

And about Jean, perhaps.

“I absolutely enjoy horror stories.” You blurted unprovoked after some uncomfortable seconds of silence, fearing it might escalate into something even more awkward. You weren’t sure if Leon was comfortable with you knowing such personal details about him, especially when you were acquainted with Jean yourself. “And I greatly appreciate the personalized recommendation, Lady Angelika. However, I think I’ll start with Walking Artwork and leave the sinister stories for bolder times, you know… for the sake of chronological order. I’m also curious to see how Leon’s writing evolved over the years.”

Leon let his head fall to the side both in suspicion and disbelief, squinting his eyes as if asking you to get it over with.

“And of course, because I’m interested in uncovering the married lady’s mysterious identity as well as what became of her.” You finally confessed, a giggle escaping your lips when you saw him roll his eyes and shake his head in disapproval. You had to admit that there was a very particular type of pleasure to be derived from teasing Leon, and you were beginning to understand why Lady Angelika seemed to enjoy it so much. “The Commander has that book in his personal collection. I might just borrow it on Monday and begin my research as soon as we go back to the office.”

“Even if you succeed in uncovering her identity, little does it matter, my lady; given the fact that my interest in her was purely artistic and never romantic.” He replied, shrugging his shoulders as if he was sorry to disappoint you. “As of what became of her, I’m happy to report that I’m still very much welcomed with warm geniality by both her and her darling daughters whenever I find myself in Karanes.” He signaled with a shake of his glass. “With that said, I’m truly honored and delighted, if I may allow myself such pleasures, to know that someone with Commander Smith’s intellect and literary knowledge found something of value in my dull first work. I have never been able to bring myself to read it again.”

“Huh? You work with Commander Smith?” Lady Angelika asked, the newfound piece of information lighting some sort of spark in her eyes, and you weren’t sure you could call it simple curiosity.

Nodding proudly, you looked around the garden, eyes surveying the room and a comfortable type of excitement bubbling inside you at the thought of finding his blue eyes in the crowd any time now.

“I had the pleasure of starting my rounds conversing with him by the central pavilion. Maybe he’s still there.” Leon looked in the direction of the marble-columned structure, as if trying to find him too. And you caught yourself trying to guess what the nature of their exchange was, something that admittedly troubled you more than a little, given the misunderstanding from a few weeks prior. “He must be looking for you too.”

You turned to Leon and were surprised to discover a smile full of understanding shining your way. And you sincerely hoped the nervous laugh that escaped your lips as a response could act as some sort of distraction so your burning cheeks and tomato ears could go unnoticed.

But you knew that he had been there that night, at the castle, in the dining hall, just a few rooms away from your office and all the wonderful things the Commander had been making you feel on top of his desk. And you also knew that, if he’d happened to hear something then, no amount of damage control you did now would be enough to erase it from his memory.

And like so, before you started acting more like a tomato and less like a person, you decided it was the perfect moment to start exchanging closing nods and parting smiles with Leon and Lady Angelika, which you did before heading in the direction he had pointed you to. Lady Angelika looked like she wanted to say something, and had it been any other moment, you would’ve waited. But, right now, all you wanted was to take your flustered face away and hide it in the Commander’s welcoming chest while you danced to a slow song or two.

“My Lady.” Leon’s sudden call of your name made you turn around abruptly. “Just one more thing.” He said as he approached you, putting some distance between Lady Angelika and him, and lowering his voice as if to ensure nobody else could hear what he was going to say. “I had a conversation with my dear uncle the other day, and I explained to him about the nature of our budding relationship.” He smiled mid-sentence as if to let you know it was okay, and you had to admit that any form of reassurance was very much welcome at the moment, especially when you had no clue where all this was heading. “I was very specific in my request, and by ‘very specific’ I mean I carefully treaded through all the poetical trap my tongue usually falls into, and sincerely asked him to stop hindering the growth of our blossoming friendship with the shadows his well-intended efforts are casting.”

His eyes lingered in the central pavilion’s direction for a while, seemingly taking his time organizing the words inside his head before saying them out loud. “Although very little use it has, I apologize if his remarks resulted in any kind of misunderstanding or inconvenience for you.”

You stared at his apologetic smile in silence, trying to make sense of the words that had just left his mouth. And maybe it was the tinge of remorse in his eyes or the way their attention would shift between you and the central pavilion, but something told you that he probably held the answer to the question you had been trying to get the Commander to respond.

No. Not probably.

He definitely did.

Did Lord Koch talk about you and Leon in a way that made the Commander think you were involved romantically? You didn’t know for sure, yet you knew two other things: One, if he had indeed said something, Leon would absolutely know what it was; and two, he would totally tell you if you asked.

But before you could do so much as open your mouth, Lady Angelika’s melodious voice called his name and he smiled apologetically before turning to her, leaving you there, stranded in the middle of the crowd, with nothing but questions to hold on to.

And you would have remained there for longer, had a flurried waiter not bumped into you, knocking the butterfly pin off your hair and making it bounce on the glossy marble tiles.

You looked down just in time to see it slide under a crystal table, and bent down to reach it, only to find that a gentle hand had gotten there first.

“Thank you, but it’s fine. I got it.” You said as your hand brushed past warm, manly fingers.

“I know you do, but let me.” Replied a rich, velvety voice you had only heard on your happiest moments.

You rose up as fast as your faltering legs allowed, your heartbeat like the frenzied flapping of hummingbird wings, and the reason for that, standing right in front of you, holding the blue butterfly in his welcoming hand, the sun sparkling on the metal pin in the same mesmerizing way it did on the sapphires he had on his face.

next chapter

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arteastica · 8 months

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (8)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 4.2k

“My goodness! You are totally going to find a husband tonight.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” The crisp air flowing in through the open window caressed your bare skin and prompted you to ask the question.

“Who cares? Woman, look at yourself.” Hitch grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you to the mirror.

You examined your reflection again, trying your best to find the confidence required to finally step out of the ladies’ room. You had chosen one of your favorite silk dresses for the occasion: sky-colored, cowl neck that stopped exactly where it was comfortable, and thin bow-tie straps to hold everything up. Yes, definitely a favorite. Favorite, as in ‘best liked’ and not as in ‘frequently worn’. In fact, this was the first time the poor thing ever left your room, where a teenager version of yourself used to wear it late into the night, when the risk of getting caught by your mother equaled zero. She didn’t even know you owned it, but you were certain the thigh slit and the flirty silhouette would be reason enough for her to disapprove. But to be fair, you didn’t remember the fabric ever hugging you this way before. Your body had obviously changed a lot over the years, and you were surprised it still fit.

“Jeez. I really wish I wasn’t on duty tonight, so I could wear one of these.” Hitch let out a disheartened sigh. Her chin was resting on your right shoulder and her eyes examined your reflection from head to toe. When they stopped at the slit in your right leg she said “Those thighs won’t have a problem finding their way into a gentleman’s heart.” She gave you one of those smirks you had missed so much. “Or into his bed…”

“Sadly, I’m not here for that tonight. I’m here for work.”

“Sorry but no one who is here just for work, one, looks this good in a slip dress, and two, takes this long to come out. What about punctuality?”

She was right. You had already taken too long. So, very reluctantly, you decided to walk out the door. But as soon as you stepped out, heads started turning in your direction, the attention mostly coming from women wearing pastry-shaped gowns and opera gloves.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting the attention. You knew the dress had been a daring decision. The moment you slipped on it, you confirmed it had the potential to make heads turn, and maybe some part of you actually wanted a taste of that. Would admitting it make you an attention-seeker? According to your script, however, the scene was supposed to play out a little different, and you had imagined yourself actually enjoying it. But, in real-life, the only thing the dress was succeeding at was awakening dormant insecurities, like that feeling of inadequacy you had almost forgotten about. How could you have forgotten though? You used to be inseparable. That was until you started working at the Survey Corps. You thought of your office, and the familiar picture comforted you for a brief moment, until you remembered it was now miles away.

You smoothed down the front of your dress, in part to look busy and also to dry your sweaty palms, but unlike the silky fabric, the crowd’s eyes felt rough on your skin. And you wished you had decided to wear something less special, something that would allow you to camouflage and pass as one of them. Why did I wear this? Your eyes tried to find the answer in a very promising spot on the floor. Maybe it had been out of pity for the dress. As a dress, it would be disappointing to spend all your life in a dark closet. Maybe it had been for old time’s sake. Since you hadn’t felt that out of place in months, maybe you wanted to remind yourself of the sensation. Or maybe it had all come down to something as simple as the color, and how it reminded you of something you had grown to like so much over the last months.

You turned to Hitch, displaying your bare back to the crowd.

“I can’t do this. Not like this. I’ll go get my coat.”

“Absolutely not. You look perfect, that’s why they are staring, because they like what they see. In fact, I would be worried if they weren-” Her eyes got lost in a particular spot on the other side of the room. “Woah, your boss is hot.”

You turned around and felt like you were coming undone. You didn’t understand why all these eyes were fixed on you, when clearly the best view was across the room, where he was standing.

One look at him and it was obvious that tuxedos had been created just so they could be worn by him. That black suit was exactly the kind of fit a woman would pick out for her man to wear at an event like this. And, while the slicked back hair undoubtedly contributed to the fireworks lighting up all over your skin, the real devil was in all the other details. It was in the way he kept his shoulders back and his chin high as he spoke, in the unconcerned drumming of his fingers against his leg, in the way he threw his head back when laughing, and in the way he seemed to fall into place everywhere he went, whether it was a room full of intimidating people, or a field full of titans. Confidence shone through his skin. Confidence, as well as everything else that made him attractive, came from deep within.

“Alright, now go out there and fulfill your duties.” You felt your friend's hands on your shoulders. “That also includes finding yourself a rich suitor who asks for your hand in marriage.” She whispered into your ear before pushing you into the crowd.

Across the room, the commander was talking to a group of older-looking men. Despite your legs feeling as steady as a house of cards, you started walking towards him. You had successfully made it halfway through the uncomfortable stares, when his eyes finally landed on you. Like everyone else so far, he did a double-take. However, unlike the others, he didn’t turn to the next person to whisper something. Instead, he started making his way to you. And most notably, unlike the others, whose eyes traveled all over your body, back and forth between every patch of exposed skin and resting at all the wrong stops, his didn’t. As he walked to you, his eyes were fixed on yours. And, in that moment, you realized you were very lucky. Because those were the kind of eyes that made the world around you vanish, uncomfortable stares and all.

When you finally met halfway, you decided you would gladly give up your ability to blink. It would be a small price to pay if it meant you would never miss a second of that irresistible smile and the way it made his eyes crinkle. He reached for your hand, and took it in with the kind of gentleness you wouldn’t expect from a man who spends his life around flesh-eating giants.

He brought your hand to his lips, and when they met the back of your fingers, you prayed he didn’t notice all the hairs on your forearms standing on end. The rest of your body was clearly getting jealous of your hand. You could tell by the way your lips parted and let out a very subtle, and you hoped silent, moan.

“May I?” He offered you his arm and you took it promptly, deciding you wouldn’t mind holding on to it for the rest of your life, and if that wasn’t possible, then at least for the rest of the evening.

When you got a closer look at the men he had been previously talking to, you realized you actually knew one of them: Commander Pixis, head of the Garrison. You had never met him formally, but you had seen him a few times around the capital. However, before any introduction could take place, a man with gentle-looking features spoke in a soft voice.

“My lady, Erwin is undoubtedly a very lucky man.”

His words took a few seconds to register with you, but when they finally did, your ears started burning, the sensation spreading like fire to the rest of your face as you realized that they, most likely, still didn't know you were his assistant.

After conversing some more, the commander asked to be excused and guided you to another group of people. And so, as you made your way around the ballroom, you realized there were even more eyes on you now, and it wasn’t surprising, the man beside you was reason enough. But the stares didn’t hold as much weight as they did before, because right now you had his arm to hold.

You glanced up at him, and your lips curved slightly as you remembered the little incident from earlier. Much like that man, these onlookers most likely didn’t know you were just his assistant. And something about that, and the speculations it could lead to, the rumors it could start, and everything else it could imply about you and him, made your insides feel as fizzy as the contents of the glass you were holding. For all they knew, the night would end with your dress discarded on the floor, and bodies tangled under the covers. And you found yourself wishing that whatever assumptions they were making would actually come true.

As the night went on, a couple of things caught your attention. One of them was Captain Levi, who looked like he would much rather attend his own funeral. And the other one was a certain pattern of behavior: Every man you met while holding the commander’s arm, purposely avoided looking at your exposed thigh or bare shoulders, and while their eyes would occasionally linger on your collarbones for an innocent second or two, they would quickly migrate somewhere else.

The evening was already coming to a close when the pattern was sadly broken. To be more precise, it was when you met the group of men standing at the top of the stairs. They had been laughing boisterously and drinking steadily since the evening started. Most of them looked like they were well into their fifties, and all six men were wearing ostentatious sashes dotted with the biggest collection of golden studs you had ever seen. The loudest, and presumably oldest, of them all greeted the commander animatedly.

“Erwin Smith, the legend himself. I’m still waiting for that rematch.” You noticed the cufflinks on his shirt and wondered if those were diamonds, because if they were, then they’ve got to be the biggest in existence. “I’ve been working on my double attacks.”

“Intuition is sometimes far more helpful than memorizing patterns, my lord.” The commander replied in a gentle voice.

“That’s why you’re always one step ahead.” The older man let out a guffaw that, in retrospective, felt a little unnecessary, before turning to you. “Woah. Just like in the game, you never cease to surprise me, Erwin. In very pleasant ways, I must say.” His eyes meticulously outlined all the curves of your body, paying special attention to your covered cleavage, and the amount of time he spent there made you wonder if he had somehow developed the ability to see through fabric. “However, I will never understand how your mind works. There is no way I would bring the missus to an event like this. I mean, the whole purpose of a party is to have fun!” The man and his friends broke out in strident laughter, and that was the only moment his eyes left your body, when he tilted his head back to enjoy his own remark.

“I mean no disrespect to you, my lady,” he may not but his body language sure as hell did, “so please don’t take offense.” With tears in his eyes and still recovering from earlier, he acknowledged you briefly before turning to the commander. “But I was hoping we could become family someday, Erwin. You left quite the impression on my youngest.”

You suddenly felt a burning sensation in your chest, and it had nothing to do with the unsolicited attention it had been getting from the man.

“She asked if you were coming tonight. Sent her regards.” The audacity of this man. If the commander were actually your man, how would you feel listening to all this? “Maybe you could join us for lunch tomorrow. She would be delighted to play against you one more time. She’s brilliant, isn’t she?” And right there and then, you realized there would actually be no difference between how you would feel if you were his wife and how you were feeling in that very moment. This man was basically setting the commander up for a little chess date with his daughter, when his alleged wife, fiancée, girlfriend or whatever, was standing right beside him, holding his arm.

“She’s a very gifted young lady.” The commander’s deep voice contrasted the man’s grating tone. “However, I’m afraid I must decline your kind offer, my lord. I will be returning to the headquarters first thing in the morning.”

“I see.” The man cleared his throat, the gleeful undertone seemingly gone all of a sudden. “Anyway, you’re a lucky man. There’s no denying.” His eyes bore into yours, successfully reminding you of a vulture scavenging for rotting carrion. “Your lady is gorgeous.”

That last remark made you feel like you had swallowed a rock; the way he had said it made your legs feel heavier than concrete; and the stare he had given you while saying it, made you feel as clothed as a titan. You knew once this man found out you were not with the commander, you were done. Once, the words ‘she’s my assistant’ left his mouth, this man would come after you. And you also knew that you wouldn’t get far, not with your legs in that state.

“Yes. She really is.” The commander’s voice sounded a lot like the rainy mornings back at the base. You looked up and found him staring at you, his lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze wrapping you like that well-worn blanket your mother always told you to throw away but you never did. You stared back into his eyes and what you saw, took you back to that day in the Forest of Giant Trees, with his heartbeat like a lullaby, and his arms like a sweet childhood memory.

But then, murmuring sounds came flooding in like muddy water spilling out of the sewers. You turned your head in their direction and realized the older man wasn’t the only one who had taken an interest in your dress, but also his friends.

And you decided you would gladly take the women’s stares over these any day. Who knows, maybe the women had only been thinking about how the color didn’t suit you or how fake the silk looked. But something about the way these men were grinning and whispering to each other told you that they were looking for something in particular, and you were sure it wasn’t the tailor’s name. You would much rather feel cheap and underdressed, than dirty and undressed.

You held onto the commander’s arm with your other hand as well, and snuggled closer, in what seemed to be your body’s desperate attempt to elude the attention.

“If you excuse us, gentlemen.” Much like the seasons, his voice always seemed to know when it was its turn to arrive. He guided you away, and at some point between the top of the stairs and the main hall, his hand came to rest at the small of your back. Even through the fabric, his fingers caused your skin to burn. And for the second time that night, you could feel the rest of your body getting jealous.

“Commander, I think I’ll call it a night.” You announced once you reached the main hall. “Thank you for tonight.” You gently let go of his arm and wondered if that was what autumn leaves felt as they were about to fall from the branches.

He nodded slightly, and, probably having no idea how nice it was going to feel, then said: “I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. My house is actually very close.”

“All the more reason to do it then.” His eyes crinkled in that enticing way they usually did and, honestly, you didn’t feel like pretending you were against his proposal.

The distinctive smell of frost infused the night air, and slipped into your bustle coat as you walked down the familiar streets that led to your house. There was a lingering warmth still left from the summer, but the mist that hovered above the cobblestones signaled the impending arrival of winter. However, they weren’t fighting for dominance, and you wondered if you would ever know such harmony. You glanced at the man walking just a couple of feet beside you, his eyes, on the road ahead; his mind, somewhere you didn’t know; but his hands, his hands were in his pockets, and you wanted to reach inside his coat and take one.

It had been a dreamy night for the most part, but you could feel your heart shrinking a little with every step you took. Every passing street light signaled another lost chance at getting closure. And you still had lots of words awaiting in your tongue, lots of questions lingering on your lips, and your mouth was heavy with all the things that were yet to be said.

“Lord Wald seems to have problems with alcohol.” He spoke in his usual quiet voice, but there was a certain undertone propping up his words.

“Didn’t seem like that to me.” He looked at you, slight confusion painting his features and causing his head to tilt to one side. “They seemed to get along quite well.”

He chuckled. And you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” His eyes were fixed in the cobblestones below his feet, and the underlying something from earlier was still there, but this time you were able to put a name to it: it sounded like remorse.

“It’s okay.” You gave him a reassuring smile, even though he wasn’t looking. “But I feel bad for his wife, and honestly for any woman who crosses paths with him when she’s not around.”

“I highly doubt her presence makes any difference when it comes to his behavior.”

You looked at your hands, they were holding each other as if seeking comfort. “So, you play with her often?” You felt his gaze on you but didn’t look back. “His daughter.”

“Met her once. Very impressive player. Cannot say she got it from her father though.” You faked a smile at the exact same moment a tide of regret washed over you, finally understanding what your mother meant when she said chess was an important life skill.

And speaking about your mother, you caught a whiff of a familiar and otherwise pleasant earthy scent and prayed you wouldn’t find her beloved climbing hydrangea, but when you looked up, it was there. And so was your front door.

“It’s here.” You took a deep breath and released the parting words you had been dreading to say. “Thank you for walking me home, commander.”

He took a step closer, reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, but this time, they parted slightly, taking your knuckles between them in a single, soft kiss. The warmth of his lips and the crisp autumn air blowing on wet skin created a delicious contradiction on your hand. His eyes were closed and his lips lingered, some would say for way longer than was required for a hand kiss. It was a sight deserving of a moan, so you gave him a silent one. One that created a playful tickle in your belly.

But maybe it wasn’t silent enough, because in that very moment he looked back at you. And, as you stared back into the deep blue, you realized those were the kind of eyes that could tell you a million things before his lips could even say a word. Tonight, they were telling you something as well, and although you didn’t know exactly what it was, you knew a few other things.

You knew why your skin tingled under his gaze, and burned under his touch. You knew why the sight of him lifted your heart to the sky while his absence made it sink into a bottomless pit. You knew why his scent reminded you of every secret place you hid in as a little girl, and his voice, of a happier future you wanted to escape to. You knew why the thought of another woman interested in him set your heart on fire, and the idea of him interested in her, crushed it into pieces. And you also knew why you had worn the dress.

You knew the blue of the silk would complement your skin just the same way the blue of his eyes did. You had decided to wear the dress just so you could feel what it was like to have his eyes all over your body. His eyes were not only allowed, but welcome and explicitly invited, to explore every inch of your skin, covered or not. He could stare as much as he wanted, for as long as he wanted, in all the places he wanted. But only him. Because you had worn the dress for him. However he was too much of a gentleman to do it, so you gave him permission.

“Do you like my dress?” You took a step closer, and noticed your hand was still in his.

His eyes drifted to your lips, where they lingered for a second, before following the path marked by your collarbones, down to your clothed breasts where they rested momentarily. Then, they paid a short visit to your hips before finally landing on your thigh, visible through the open coat. It was there where they seemed to feel most at home. And it was then, when you had his eyes on your bare skin, that you became aware of how soaked you were. You squeezed his fingers on instinct at the realization, which caused him to trace his steps back to your eyes.

“Very much.” His voice, almost a whisper; his lips, slightly parted. And you could see his breath, as well as the rising and falling of his chest. He was so close you wondered if he could see what you were thinking of, if he could see how much you wanted him to take the silky fabric off you.

In such proximity, his cologne was even more intoxicating. It was musky and clean, like a fresh bubble bath; sweet and gentle, just like him. You knew it was something you would always crave, even after tonight was long gone. And you wondered how many women had been in this intimate space before, and how many of them were craving his perfume right now.

The small of your back was still tingling from where he touched you earlier. And the rest of your body was demanding the same attention, so you took another step closer.

Goodness, he was so handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you want to know how his lips moved in a kiss, and how his hands followed the curves of your body. And the situation laid out before you provided the perfect opportunity.

The perfect opportunity to stop pretending your feelings were written in some foreign language you had never heard before. The perfect opportunity to call it what it was, once and for all.

“Commander.”

“Yes?” His eyes couldn’t decide between yours and your lips.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” Your voice had never sounded so feeble. “Would you- would you please-” He nodded encouragingly but his breath on your skin was too distracting, successfully causing the opposite effect. “I- I can’t tell you.”

“Then show me.”

His eyes were holding your gaze, and his lips, you could almost taste them.

You could also hear, however, shuffling on the other side of the door, and you looked up to find a light turned on in the second floor.

“If it’s my mother, she’ll ask you to come in. If it’s my father, he’ll force you to.” He let out a chuckle and you found yourself wishing you could make him laugh forever. “Would you like to come in?”

“It’s late. I don’t want to importune anyone.”

“Good choice. If you get my father started, he’ll talk about royal family conspiracy theories all night long.”

“Sounds interesting.”

You did your best to return his smile despite the emptiness you felt when letting go of his hand.

“See you tomorrow, commander. Good night.”

next chapter

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