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karikarasuno · 1 year

Text

sonder ch. ii

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader x Levi Ackerman

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Flashbacks/Memories, Lots of Cooking/Baking, Dinners w/ Eruri, More Worldbuiling (bear with me), Alcohol Consumption (wine tasting time)

Word Count: 9.6k

song(s) for the chapter: love me more by mitsuki, party tricks by ayanna

a/n: as i write this, I’m slowly learning that it’s just an ode to my love of accessible public transportation and walkable cities, pls enjoy:)

chapter i | chapter ii | chapter iii

It was Sunday. The weather dipped into something comfortable and beautiful. It was hard to appreciate though when you woke up alone on the right side of the bed. You were curled around a pillow and the one beneath your head was damp. For a moment, you thought it was drool and you wiped at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Until the heel of your palm reached the darkened skin beneath your eye where you found a dried crust where you had been…crying. You were disoriented by the realization. Confused because you didn’t remember falling asleep with tears streaming down your face. Yet, they were there – dried and dampening your pillowcase.

You were up and dressed within an hour. Your hair was air drying in the early afternoon sun as you stepped outside. There was a pier not too far from where you lived. Just a twenty minute train ride away. You slid earbuds in as you walked down the sidewalk. The same route you and Erwin took every morning for work. It was second nature by this point, sidestepping the hole in the asphalt and then accounting for the dip in the unleveled pavement as the train stop came into view. When you opened Spotify the song waiting for you there startled you. It was one of Onyankopon’s songs. One that he wrote and produced the second year the two of you were together. He sold it to a record company for some up and coming musician neither of you had heard of. That was until this song managed to chart in the top tens, skyrocketing him into the limelight. Which in turn got Onyankopon the career he’d been dreaming of since he was a child.

The song began to play as you set foot on the train. Surprisingly, it was not as crowded as you would’ve expected on a weekend. But you supposed everyone was out at brunch. It was the season of mimosas after all.

The song was two minutes and forty three seconds long. Not very long at all. It lacked some of the depth his writing has matured into since then, but the perfect song of the summer. A love song. Sweet in its melody and tender in its lyrics. He told you it was written for you. Just a few weeks after the two of you had met.

Your stop was next, so you stood and hung on to the pole beside your seat. It seemed much busier on this side of the city. Couples, families, and groups of friends littered the streets. Traffic was much tamer but the amount of people had you knocking shoulders with the person next to you as soon as you stepped off.

The big ferris wheel was directly in your line of vision, clear from the obstruction of skyscrapers with the sparkle of the lake right behind it. Accenting its glory with a twinkle and a shimmer. It was at least a mile away and the music in your ears was beginning to fade into white noise. You focused on taking one step at a time, placing one foot in front of the other. It was getting harder to push thoughts of him to the background. Harder to lock the feelings you so desperately wanted to forget away and move on.

A block away from the wheel you ran into this tiny record shop. A record player displayed at the window caught your attention and those feelings you were trying to avoid slammed into your chest with a fresh memory of your first date. He’d taken you to a record shop much like the one before you. He asked you out the moment you met. It was your junior year of college and you stumbled your way into the music building late at night with a few friends. You’d been drinking, celebrating the end of finals week just before the winter break began. But you had wandered off, finding yourself in a studio in some far corner of the building– the giggles of your friends echoing off of the empty hallways. He was playing around with a chord progression on a keyboard. Going over it again and again while he muttered things you couldn’t understand under his breath.

“It’s pretty,” you said, your voice breathy and cheeks warm from the few shots you had taken. His shoulders lifted in surprise and he whipped around to look at you. He was handsome, more than enough to have the next words you were about to say die on your tongue. You swallowed around the sweet taste of lychee soju, remembering how it tasted like juice but getting you drunker quicker than anything before.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” he smiled, eyes tracking from your eyes all the way down to your feet. It was a slow journey and if your mind and body weren’t so loosened by the alcohol, you would’ve squirmed under his attention.

“I know,” you responded, leaning against the doorframe. “But finals are over and we were just having a little fun. What’re you doing here so late?”

“Working.” He crossed his arms over his chest and you followed the movement. If he asked you to go home with him at that moment, you’d say yes. Without the slightest of regrets.

“On?” You asked, sauntering towards him, feigning coyness but you were afraid he could read your intentions all over your body.

“On something that you’ll hopefully hear on the radio one day. If it’s any good.”

“Why don’t you play it for me?” You smiled, toying with the pendant on your necklace between your thumb and forefinger. Your friends’ laughter was getting closer, their footsteps leading them down the hall towards you and this stranger.

“I’ll tell you what.” He leaned forward, an elbow on each knee as he looked up at you. “One date and I’ll think about it.”

You swapped numbers that night, your moment interrupted by your name bouncing around the building walls as your friends searched for you. The first date was right as the spring term started. You texted all throughout the break and the flutterings of a crush were strong in your bones by the time you saw him again. And when he picked you up on that cold January evening the last place you expected to be with him was a little, old record shop. You searched through the discount bin for albums that caught your eye, each picking one and listening to them at his place while draining a bottle of cheap wine and snacking on whatever frozen appetizers he had in his freezer.

You should’ve kept walking past the store. Should’ve lived through that memory in that instance and kept walking. Instead, the jingle of the bell overheard rang shiny through your eardrums. The smell of old paper and wood flooded your senses and the memory vibrated even fiercer through your mind.

“How much for the record player?” You pointed to the display as you asked the employee behind the cash register. He was organizing a stack of used vinyls, their slips weathered and faded through years of neglect.

“$250,” he called over his shoulder, not sparing you much of a glance. It didn’t really matter to you anyway because you knew as soon as you walked through that door that you would buy it. Along with an album or two from one of those bargain bins near the back shelves of the store.

You didn’t really see much of the pier after all. The ferris wheel shrunk in the distance behind you, your arms full from the wide shape of the box and a bag swinging from two fingers. Once you got home the hours ticked by slower than you wanted, you decided you needed something else. To keep your mind off things. There was noise coming from the other side of your living room wall, muffled and far away. Levi and Erwin. You still needed to thank them for yesterday. For all the help you needed, but felt like you didn’t deserve.

Cookies. Espresso chocolate chip. That’s how you would thank them. You dug through your pantry and fridge, pulling out ingredients and utensils. Bowls and a baking tray. The cooling rack you bought a few weeks ago too. One of the records was already playing from where you set it up on the end table beside your sofa. It was an old smooth jazz album from an artist you had never heard of. But it was nice, doing the perfect job of filling space as you added brown sugar, granulated sugar, and butter into a metal bowl. You decided against using the handheld mixer tucked away in one of your cupboards. There was energy pulsing in your veins that you needed to get out, so you grabbed a whisk instead, whipping the mixture until it became light and fluffy. A sweat coated your skin by the time you added the egg and vanilla, beating it all together and setting it aside to start on the dry ingredients in a separate bowl.

By the time the cookies popped into the oven, the sun was lower in the sky. It washed the living room in a natural golden glow, the image surreal as you stared off into your home. The one you’ve provided for yourself, by yourself. The boxes your furniture had come in were still strewn by your door. Trash day was tomorrow, the boxes to be left there for another day.

When the cookies were ready, you allowed them to cool for a few minutes. Antsy as your foot tapped the floor and the glass storage container sat on your countertop. They weren’t fully cooled when you put them in the container. Which wasn’t your smartest move, but you couldn’t wait anymore. Not when the album finished and your home was thrust into silence again. You were out the door and at their doorstep less than a minute later. A little winded from taking the steps two at a time and ringing their doorbell. You still had the apron on, flour dusting the front of it and wearing lavender crocs.

Erwin opened the door in the most casual outfit you’ve ever seen him in. A white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, a mug of what smelled like herbal tea in his hand.

“Nice outfit,” he smiled, lifting the mug in your direction in greeting.

“Back at ya,” you smiled with a steady breath. You extended the container his way and he just stared without taking it from you. “It’s a thank you gift. For yesterday.”

“Cookies?”

“Espresso chocolate chip,” you answered, shaking them in his direction to urge him to grab it from you. But he didn’t. He turned around, lifting a finger your way and saying, “hold on.”

He disappeared in his house, the door left open and you were nosy enough to let your eyes wander. To look at their living room with the worn brown leather couch and a round wooden coffee table. There was a coat rack propped against the wall right in front of you and a shoe rack right beside it. Their home looked lived in and warm, yet impeccably clean. You envied them and their cute house together with herbs growing in the kitchen windowsill and mismatched rags hanging from the oven door. It took Erwin longer than you expected for him to return and you were starting to wonder if he expected you to follow him inside. Until Levi came from around a corner. His hair was wet and dripped on the towel hooked around his shoulders and you felt bad for interrupting. Clearly because Erwin had no grievances disturbing Levi when he obviously just hopped out the shower.

“Hey,” he said in greeting, but it came out more like a question, confusion laced in his tone and morphing his expression.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come at a bad time,” you found yourself saying, immediately trying to backtrack on whatever weird friendship thing Erwin was trying to do. “I just wanted to thank you for all your help yesterday, so I baked some cookies. They’re espresso chocolate chip. I hope you like them. You won’t be wired or anything if you eat them too late, I didn’t put enough instant espresso in it for that. And I probably should’ve made sure you even liked sweets. They’re not too sweet though, I used semi-sweet chips.”

You rambled. Your cheeks were warming up under his critical stare and word vomit spewed from your mouth and you were…nervous. A strange feeling to experience because you were only trying to give your neighbors cookies. But the loneliness that crept in after they left your home yesterday was starting to drive you mad. And you were overcompensating. Fighting a battle to keep the loneliness from winning but you began to fear like you were the one fucking this up instead.

Levi took the container from your grip, popping open the lid and smelling them. Your palms broke out in a nervous sweat. And you were starting to grow irritated with yourself and your inability to keep it together.

“They smell good,” he said, taking one out and biting into it. Since you were too impatient to allow them to fully cool, a string of melted chocolate fell over his lip. You watched his tongue lick it away and he chewed with purpose which only proved to spike your stress levels when you couldn’t decipher whether the look on his face was good or bad.

Unlike Erwin, who you could read like a book – not because you knew him so well but because he practically wore his heart on his sleeve– Levi was this impenetrable wall. He didn’t hum in approval. His eyes didn’t light up in satisfaction. Nor did he grimace in distaste. His features remained neutral. And with only a nod he finished the cookie, closed the container lid and strolled back into his house. You were left there bewildered. No questions or words or even the upturn of his lips in one of those faux smiles he gave you yesterday. You were stumped.

“Thanks for the cookies,” Erwin said when he joined you at the door again, looking rather pleased with himself. You were starting to think he found immeasurable amusement in watching his boyfriend interact with you. In some sick, twisted way. Like watching paper burn after you’ve thrown it in a fire pit.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, but you weren’t delusional enough to think you looked intimidating. Not in your current state of dress.

“What?” He said, smile innocent but eyes shining with something that proved otherwise. You flicked him off instead of replying because he wasn’t deserving of one. You stomped down the steps then, hearing his chuckle as you marched out of his gate and through yours. He watched your entire tantrum, and when you peeked over at him before you entered your home, he grinned.

“Good night,” he called out, only receiving a grumbled mimic of the words back at him from you.

You brought the remaining cookies to work the next day. Moblit inhaled five of them before lunch claiming that his blood sugar was low, so you had to sneak one over to Marco and Jean before he could get his hands on anymore.

“If you don’t like them, pretend you do,” you teased, handing one to each of them while leaning against the mobile wall of their cubicle. When Marco bit into his cookie, you watched as his eyes widened and he nodded, seeming like he enjoyed it. You smiled at him, always so fond of his earnest reactions to most things. Glad that he was your intern and not anyone else’s.

“Never pegged you for an actor, Marco.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, finishing the cookie off in his next bite.

“Never thought you were much of a baker, but these are surprisingly good.” You shrugged, feigning modesty. The playful dig didn’t go over your head either. Your eyes slid over to Jean, who often didn’t make eye contact with you. A gesture you found both endearing and slightly confusing because you’ve seen him work with Moblit. He was passionate and had a surplus of ideas that he rambled off to Moblit in one sitting. But he was shy around almost everyone else.

“Just keep up the good work and maybe I’ll bring you more treats.” You pushed off of the wall and walked back towards your office, passing Moblit’s on the way. He called out to you when you strolled past his open door, finding his grinning face behind two monitors mounted on the side of his desk.

“Yes?” You stuck your head in the door, knowing that whatever he was going to say next was only going to be trouble.

“Did you give a cookie to Nile?” His grin turned into something shit-eating and you felt the breath leave your lungs in a heavy, traitorous sigh.

“No… should I have?” You pouted, primarily because Nile wasn’t your favorite person to interact with. He was always so grumbly and strung out. The editor was never in the most enjoyable mood whenever you spoke to him about work, so offering him a cookie was not very high on your to do list for the day.

“He’s harmless,” Moblit responded after seeing the look of disdain written plainly across your features.

“He’s still a major grouch and every time I speak to him I’m sure it is going to result in his psychotic break. Does that man ever go on vacation? Or know what the word relax even means?”

Moblit chuckled, propping his chin in his hand. “He’s having a hard time with his wife. She’s been giving him some shit about not valuing family time enough.”

“How do you even know that?” Nile never talked to anyone about anything outside of their professional duties, so Moblit having this much information came as a shock to you. And he only offered a shrug in response, smiling because he enjoyed fucking with you and you were sure he was still hazing you as the newbie.

“Big city with small town gossip,” he said, turning back to his monitor and opening an email. You scoffed and left back towards your office a few doors down. He knew you would ask him again later, probably thinking of a way to leverage the gossip so that you would do a favor for him. It was your own fault, honestly. For being so goddamn nosy.

When you arrived home, an hour later than you usually do, Erwin was standing outside your gate with a glass dish in his hand. He was scrolling on his phone as you came up beside him, peeking around his bicep and startling him.

“Don’t sneak up on me,” he said as you stepped around him and unlatched your gate.

“I wouldn’t have snuck up on you if you had been paying attention,” you nudged him lightly out of your way, leaving the gate open behind you since he always followed you inside.

“Be nice or I won’t give you this chicken parm Levi made.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together when you unlocked your door. Just one surprise after another today. You set your purse on your couch as you walked further into your home, facing him with your hands on your hips as he strolled inside and placed the food on your island.

“Is this because of the cookies?” You were curious, especially since you didn’t think Levi was the cook of the relationship. But you saw how hopeless Erwin was with even a coffeemaker after he tried to use your espresso machine one morning. Now you knew, if it wasn’t for Levi then Erwin would be surviving off of takeout and frozen dinners.

“He doesn’t like owing people,” Erwin said, sitting at one of the stools you purchased a few weeks ago.

“Those were supposed to be a thanks, not something that he needed to owe,” you said confused, kicking off your shoes and tossing them towards the shoe rack. “But I didn’t have any plans for dinner so tell him I appreciate it.”

You lifted the lid from the container, Italian herb seasoning hitting your nostrils first. You weren’t in much of a mood to cook for yourself recently, mainly surviving off of leftovers from lunch or Chinese food. So, this smelled heavenly, your stomach grumbled in response and you would be embarrassed by Erwin’s snicker if you weren’t starving all of a sudden. Instead of plating it, you just grabbed a fork from the drawer, forgetting a knife but using your fingers to tear off a chunk of the crispy meat. You forgot your table manners and shoved it in your mouth, tomato sauce staining your fingertips in the process.

“You eat like such a lady,” Erwin said, making a scene of sitting up straight and linking his fingers on the countertop. You had the decency to finish chewing first before offering a response. “Fuck off, Smith.” He smirked, but you were too busy twirling the spaghetti on the fork to give him any more attention.

“And I don’t trust you to actually tell Levi I said thank you, so give me his number,” you said after you swallowed. “I’ll just text him.”

It was a decent enough cover up for your true intentions. While you wanted to thank him for the food, you also quite liked Levi and felt like you had something to prove. The irritating people pleaser in you not doing well with the idea that Levi might not like you that much. Even though you had nothing to prove that irrational notion. Either way, you held out your phone to Erwin, already unlocked to the screen for him to put Levi’s number in.

“I don’t know if I like that idea,” he said, slowly inputting the digits. “You’ll team up against me.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” you said around another forkful of food, nearly salivating at the sauce and wondering if Levi made it from scratch. It tasted nothing like anything you’ve ever had from a jar.

“I’ll be however I wanna be,” he poked his tongue out at you, saving Levi’s number and sliding your phone back in your direction. He didn’t stay for much longer after that, his seat on your stool vacant and you were starting to despise being alone with yourself. Even with the dinner still warm in its container and Levi’s contact staring up at you from your phone screen, you still noticed all of the missing weight. Moreso, now than ever. You hated eating alone. Dread circled around in your stomach which soured the food, so you closed it up and put it away. There was still time to eat it anyway, and you would end up shoveling it down before bed half-starved because you could never go to bed hungry.

You texted Levi before bed. Erasing around five messages before you finally decided on something.

The dinner was really good. But now I owe you a meal.

Funnily enough, the next day you spent half of your shift scrolling through recipes on your desktop, flitting between steak or chicken or fish. And then you started over and looked through vegetable dishes. You were overthinking it. But you also didn’t want to make them something they wouldn’t like. Something Levi wouldn’t like.

The grocery store was packed. Way too many people for a random Tuesday evening. Sure there must’ve been a dinner rush, but the lines were atrocious and you only had a handful of ingredients. You decided on a stir fry. Chicken again because it was safe. Something you knew they would like given what he prepared for dinner last night. When you finally got home half an hour later, you cooked in a flurry. You threw on your apron, your work clothes still beneath it as you chopped up peppers and broccoli florets.

The recipe was simple. And you finished it so quickly, you were disappointed at the loss of the distraction. Content with what you made, and you were swiftly finding catharsis in the ritual of cooking. The same vinyl as before drifted through your home while you plated their meal. It was delicious. A simmer of cockiness heated your cheeks because you were proud of yourself. And if neither of them liked it, fuck them.

But you actually really hoped they fucking liked it. If not, you would probably hide away from them forever. Out of mostly shame.

It was too late to doubt yourself now, though. With your apron still on, you walked through your door with two containers, one with the stir fry and the other with jasmine rice. Your hands were a little shaky and you were slightly annoyed by it. There should be no expectations here. It’s just friendly meals shared between neighbors. You spend almost every morning with Erwin. How could this be any different?

You were at their doorstep in seconds, shuffling your feet before you raised your hand to knock on their door. But as your knuckles were about to touch it, there was a voice behind you that caused you to flinch so violently you almost dropped the food.

Levi was standing behind you, fingers taking out the bud in his ear as his hair stuck to his forehead and sweat dripped down his neck. He must have just gotten back from a run. His breath rose his chest heavily and there was a ghost of a smile on his face, presumably at your reaction to his presence. He didn’t say anything after saying your name, just waited for you to respond. Which never failed to twist your nerves in a weird way.

“I said I owed you a meal,” you started, holding up the containers to emphasize your point. He looked between you, the food, and his door, staring up at you from the last step. You knew he was thinking about his words. He seemed like the type to choose his words carefully, especially since he had so few of them.

“Are you going to eat with us?” He asked, the question thoroughly throwing you off. The very last thing you expected for him to say.

“Uh, I didn’t pack enough for three,” you carefully responded, not even sure if you wanted to say yes or no. The idea of sitting down with the both of them, eating and chatting and not being alone. It was an overwhelming thought. It was one that you weren’t sure if you found comfort in. It felt intimate in a way that you couldn’t quite describe.

“I’m sure we can make do,” Levi said, climbing the rest of the steps until he was directly beside you, hand on his door hand with his keys jingling in his other hand. “I still have to shower before we eat anyway.”

“I’ll go grab the rest of the food then,” you handed over the food as he stepped inside, “and I’ll be right over?”

“Yes.” He answered your question even though you hadn’t meant to ask it. Always fumbling in some way in front of him. And you blamed it on his intimidating aura. The fact that he carried this air of weeding out the bullshit from anyone. And unfortunately, you didn’t want your baggage to come off as bullshit. Even if it felt that way sometimes.

When you retrieved the rest of the food, you decided to change into something comfortable and maybe dressing down wouldn’t place too much weight on you to impress them. You debated outside of their house whether you should ring the doorbell or just let yourself in. But when you heard shuffling from the other side of the door you just decided to open it. They knew you were coming back. It was unlocked for a reason. But you still announced you were inside loudly and clearly. As to not walk in on something unexpected.

“Well look who it is,” you heard Erwin say from the direction of the kitchen. He was pulling out dishes from the cabinets and laying them out on their dining table. There were cute little placemats and coasters organized on it, all black in color. “Happy to see you’ll be joining us this evening.”

“Thanks for having me,” you said with fake politeness, sending him a dumb smile as you placed additional food on the stovetop with the other containers. You found the serving utensils in a holder beside the oven, grabbing a large metal spoon and one with a forked end and walking it over to where Erwin was placing the silverware on some napkins.

“What would you like to drink? We have water, wine, and three bottles of Corona,” he listed off, opening the fridge when he was done to make sure he detailed all of the options accurately. “Actually, we have four bottles of Corona and a lime.”

He smiled as he announced it, proud of himself for whatever weird reason. “What an interesting assortment,” you laughed and sat at the plate setting that had you facing the hallway to the bedrooms and the kitchen. “What kind of wine do you have in there?”

He lifted the bottle and read over the label, using his thumb to wipe away some of the condensation that started to build there. “Pinot grigio.”

“I’ll have a glass of that, please.”

“You got it,” he said, finding the wine opener and pulling out the cork with a muffled pop. He fished out two wine glasses from the cabinet and set them down by your plate setting and another before going back to the fridge to get a Corona and the lime he was so pleased to find a few minutes earlier. While he cut out a little slice, Levi came walking down the hall, hair slightly damp from his fresh shower, but smelling like something spiced and warm.

You brought your knees to your chest, curling your arms around your shins as you observed them walking around each other. He grabbed the wine bottle from beside Erwin’s arm and walked it over to the dining table. He gestured for your glass, tilting it towards him as he poured out the white wine until it was a quarter of the way filled.

“That’s good, thank you.” You grabbed the stem from his fingers, and tried some. It was good, light and crispy – not too dry. When Levi came back, he brought over the food that was on the stove, opening the lids and you were surprised by how hot everything still was. By the time Erwin was seated across from you, Levi had already served his own plate and waited for everyone to get started on theirs.

“You’re not gonna serve me?” Erwin asked, hands splaying open in the air in mock shock.

“What do I look like?” Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes and picking up his fork to stab some broccoli onto it. You chuckled, reaching for the spoon to serve yourself some rice and Erwin did the same with the stir fry.

Much of the dinner followed in a similar fashion. Erwin instigating Levi, while you giggled around your glass as it seemed to fill back up every time it was drained. Hours blended together as your dinner was long cleaned off of all of your plates. Levi’s face flushed into a beautiful shade of red as he finished the last drops of his third glass. Between the two of you, the bottle had been polished. Erwin was nursing the last beer in the fridge with the lime between his teeth as he stifled a laugh when you said, “Levi, you look so much friendlier when you’re blushing like this.”

“I’m not blushing,” he said with his signature scowl, but without his usual bite since the three of you were well and lovely loose from the alcohol. And when you devolved into a fit of laughter when he blushed deeper, the lime that was just in Erwin’s mouth was abruptly thrown at your head. It bounced off of your eyebrow and thudded to the floor as you gasped and swatted at it a moment too late.

“Ew,” you said, breathlessly, the laughter in your voice still apparent as you glared at him. And you were surprised to find that instead of a ghost of a smile, there was a real one. It was small, but there either way. And it felt personal. Like you were finally finding your footing in this new place. Surrounded by people you could start to call your friends. Suddenly, you wanted to cry. But you shook your head to avoid it and bent over to grab the pulpy lime slice from the ground. “That was very gross of you,” you added, and rolled it in a rumpled napkin.

Levi shrugged, “I don’t blush.”

It was almost eleven by the time you stumbled into your home. You were warm from the alcohol and sleepy from all the food. You decided you would just shower in the morning, trudging into your bedroom and falling into bed without any thought or preparation for tomorrow. Sleep found you quickly, and the alarm the next morning startled you from the deepest slumber you’ve had in weeks.

Despite the small headache throbbing at your temple, you had uncharacteristic energy. Your mood was elevated and you felt like today would be your best day in a while. It was also the first time that you woke up and the first thing on your mind wasn’t Onyankopon. You often looked for him in your sleep, searching his side of the bed for his warm, solid body. And when you could never find it, the ache in your heart deepened and you always awoke thinking of him.

But today was different. You met Erwin outside of your gate like every other morning, with him leaning against it like he had been there waiting for you for ages.

“The Brewhouse for breakfast?” He asked, but he already knew your answer. It was like tradition at this point. A morning ritual the two of you shared that you had no intention of giving up. You tended to be a creature of habit, and this was one you felt like you’d never stop indulging in.

“Why is there more pep in your step today?” Moblit said as you walked past his office to get to yours. He was standing by his little sofa searching through his briefcase for something, his sleeves already rolled up his forearms.

“Firstly, who the hell says that anymore? Secondly, why are you here so early? And thirdly, there’s no more pep in my step today than there was yesterday.”

“Firstly,” he started, ticking down the questions with his fingers, “I do. Secondly, I have that big meeting today with The Boss and I need to finish prepping for it. Jean is sitting in with me and I had to allocate time to talk him down any nervous ledges he finds himself on. And thirdly, there is definitely more pep in your step, and I will figure out why.”

“That’s way less important than you meeting with freaking Zachary. How am I just finding out about this?”

“You’ve been busy trying to recruit that author. The girl writing the mystery novel?”

“Annie,” you supplied, nodding for him to continue.

“Yeah so, we haven’t had a whole lot of catch up time. And it was a last minute thing, anyway. Zachary just figured out what Booktok was and is trying to incorporate that into our marketing. Jean has some really great ideas, but he’s been a wreck since I said he could be the one to present them,” he sighed with a laugh.

You felt for Moblit. Zachary had a tendency to be old fashioned— laidback but slow on the uptake of new and emerging trends. There was one staff meeting where you had to walk him and Pixis through e-readers and how those took a special publishing license for 45 minutes. And you hadn’t even touched the topic of Kindle Unlimited, for your own sake and everyone sitting through that zoom call.

“Well, explaining TikTok to him is going to be so fun. But as far as Jean goes, I wouldn’t worry about it. He psychs himself out and then it’s like this weird switch in his brain goes off when he’s talking about something important to him. I swear it’s like a different person.”

“You noticed that too?” Moblit smiled, arms crossing over his chest.

“Yes, it’s like one minute he won’t make eye contact with me and then the next he’s talking to me about why the Percy Jackson movie adaptations failed so miserably,” you said, remembering the moment he overheard you make some off handed comment to Marco about the spinoff series and you spent an hour at their cubicle discussing books versus movies.

“Anyway, good luck today and let me know how it goes,” you pointed at him sternly, so he understood you were being serious about it. “We can do a late lunch together to talk about it.”

“Fine, but only because you still gotta tell me what’s got you looking like you sprinkled coke in your coffee.”

“Literally what the fuck is wrong with you, Moblit?” You whisper yelled at him, which only made him laugh in response. He shrugged noncommittally, waving you off as he continued searching through his work bag for whatever he was looking for.

The meeting went well. Jean left the office happier than you had ever seen him and when he made eye contact with you as he entered his cubicle where you were discussing with Marco what you should do about Annie, he actually smiled at you. Bright and charming. His ears were a touch pink but he appeared as though he just had the best day of his life.

“I’m gathering he liked your ideas,” Marco said with genuine enthusiasm in his voice. His smile began to mirror Jean’s as he sat up straighter in his chair when Jean approached.

“He loved them,” he said with a wistful exhale. “I mean after we explained how the app worked and then I had him scroll through my fyp, which was honestly not the best idea given how niche the algorithm can be. But after that small hiccup, he gave me and Moblit the green light to move forward and honestly I can’t believe I got through it without throwing up.”

Marco reached out then and grabbed Jean’s forearm, it seemed subconscious. The gesture sweetened when he said, “so glad you didn’t throw up because that would’ve been embarrassing. But I’m happy for you. I told you you had nothing to worry about. You’re amazing.”

Jean blushed. His demeanor quickly became bashful and definitely not in the way it usually does whenever you attempt small talk with him. “Really?” He asked, smiling so hard his cheeks probably began to hurt.

“Yes,” Marco responded with finality. And you started to feel like you were intruding on something with how their eyes remained locked onto each other’s.

“I’m happy for you, Jean,” you interrupted their moment, feeling only a little bad when Jean flinched at the sound of your voice. He had totally forgotten you were there. Which only added questions to your list to ask Marco later.

“Th-thanks,” he rubbed the back of his neck and grinned.

“Of course.” You excused yourself from the boys, leaving behind hushed voices that spoke over each other. The brief thought of telling Moblit what you witnessed over lunch flitted through your mind until you decided you wanted to keep this to yourself. After all, Moblit could be such a gossip.

Pesto. Made from scratch.

Enchiladas.

Chicken Adobo.

Parmesan crusted salmon stuffed with crab.

And an ill attempt at carbonara (Erwin scrambled the egg). To his defense, he was not a cook and it was two o’clock in the morning.

With them time seemed to have no meaning. Hours were pointless. Minutes were nonexistent. And time never felt more like a construct than it did whenever you were spending an evening in their home. Or them in yours.

As it progressed, dinners started to come with a set of rules. Rule one, always eat together. This was unspoken, but a general truth that was accepted after that first dinner in their house. Rule two, dinner must always contain one carb. Or else, Erwin would complain that he wasn’t full enough. And rule three, Levi always does the dishes. He didn’t trust anyone else to do them properly and it wasn’t like you’d complain. You usually threw them in the dishwasher, but Levi insisted they needed to be scrubbed down first.

“So,” you started, kneading some dough on your floured countertop. Today you were attempting to make bread from scratch. Focaccia was every other video you saw recently and so you woke up with the final decision that today was finally the day. “What made you decide to go into physical therapy?”

“We haven’t talked about this already?”

“Nope.” You rolled out your wrists when your joints began to ache. They popped from the motion and you cringed a bit at the sound. “I was thinking about it this morning after Erwin and I talked about how he's teaching Urban history in the fall. Which he’s really psyched about, but then it turned into this lengthy discussion. You know how it gets,” you waved off the rest of your sentence when you noticed you were getting off topic.

“Anyway, it made me think of you and how…” You considered your next words carefully, not wanting to accidentally offend him or come off judgmental. He wasn’t one to usually take things the wrong way, but you still didn’t want to come across rude.

“And how what?” He was sitting across from you on the barstool at the island. He was working out something on his laptop, a legal pad beside him as he scribbled down numbers in a neat line. He was focused on the screen in front of him, and it often amazed you how effortless he made multi-tasking look. And now that you really thought about it, it was rare to see him do less than two things at once.

“Well, if I were to guess what career you had I probably wouldn’t have chosen something so people-y?”

“People-y?”

“Yeah. I would’ve assumed you’d do something with less human interaction. Especially not something that included so much touching,” you explained, going back to wrestling with the dough on the counter and adding a touch more flour so it stopped sticking to your palms.

“I originally got my Bachelor’s in accounting,” he said, like it would make so much more sense for him. It kind of did. If you were to type cast him, that would be it. “It paid well and I’ve always been good with numbers. So after I graduated, I got a steady job at this company and on the side I helped my mom start up her yoga studio and was persuaded into co-owning the bar with Hange.”

“I didn’t know your mom owned a yoga studio,” you said, partially surprised. Levi didn’t talk about his family much. You knew from Erwin that Levi was an only child and grew up with just his mom. With the occasional visit from his uncle sporadically through his childhood. But you didn’t have many details regarding it, so you always felt a little special when Levi brought it up. Like he was comfortable enough to open up to you.

“Yeah, it’s up by the boardwalk where the big ferris wheel is off the lake. She’s had it for about seven years now, actually.” You could tell he was calculating the years in his head, the number seeming to surprise him. “Regardless, I worked at the company for like two years and then Erwin got into his motorcycle accident.”

The memory made him cringe.

“What?” You stopped kneading and wiped your hands on your apron before resting them on the counter. Your attention was undivided now.

“I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you. He hates talking about it.” Levi put his pen down and leaned forward to place his elbows on the counter. The two of you leaning towards each other as the conversation took a serious undertone.

“He used to have this motorcycle that he rode everywhere. Infatuated, really. But one night he was speeding home, took a sharp turn and he didn’t see the SUV coming until it was too late.”

“Oh my god,” you frowned, not able to imagine the scene without nausea rolling in your stomach.

“He ended up breaking his arm and dislocating his shoulder. It fucked him up for months because he couldn’t wrap his head around what happened,” Levi continued, grabbing the pen again to click and unclick it. “Anyway, I fell into this hole trying to figure out ways to help him regain his mobility after it healed. I found all these stretches and exercises and I decided to go back to school for it. He calls himself my test dummy because every time I came back from class I’d try out something new. But they were working.”

“Shit, Levi,” you breathed, your chest tight with emotion. “What a way to stumble into a fucking career.”

“Right,” he released an amused chuckle through his nose. “The injury still fucks with him because he doesn’t stretch it every day like he’s supposed to.”

“And I’m sure you don’t let him forget it.”

“Why would I?” He teased, the tension breaking and you chuckled before going back to fighting with the dough. “As far as peopling goes, I like it because I can choose my own schedule for the most part. And I mostly work with old people. The occasional teenager now and again.”

“I love that,” you smiled at him.

“What?” He went back to whatever number crunching he was doing before.

“That you love what you do. That it makes you happy.” He responded with a look of disgust at your sentimentality, which you could now translate as his way of saying thank you.

Your phone pinged with a notification at the same time as his computer did. When you looked over you saw that it was a text from Erwin to the group chat. The one you usually used to swap recipes or share a random picture of something you thought was funny or interesting.

My dad is hosting a work event at this winery upstate next weekend. You in?

Suffice to say, the answer was yes when you found yourself in the backseat of their Nissan Rogue fiddling with the bluetooth to connect it to your phone.

“Do you usually drive around in silence?” You scrolled through your playlists trying to find the one that best fit the mood. Or at least something neither of them would complain about.

“Yes,” was said at the same time as Erwin said “no.”

“I usually have a podcast playing or the radio,” Erwin said with a shrug.

“Not to be that person, but we’re going to change that.” You decided on something, hitting play and reclining into the middle seat. “I’ll make you both a playlist some time this week because you need more variety than your usual podcast and today’s top hits.”

The winery was nothing less than elegant and grand. It appeared to be a repurposed mansion that had to have been at least a century old. The greenery surrounding the building was lush and thriving, just acres of neat rows of small trees and well maintained shrubs. You were glad to have chosen the chiffon dress that stopped mid-thigh because it was light enough to not feel like the fabric was sticking to your skin in the heat. You were also happy to have gone with the wedges instead of the heels because the soil beneath the grass still seemed to be damp from a recent storm, so you weren’t sinking uncomfortably into the ground.

The sounds of your footsteps echoed around the large foyer. A wide staircase wound upwards to a second floor, but before any of you could question where you were going you were directed towards the back by one of the employees. Stepping out into the sun again had your eyes adjusting briefly to the brightness, but once they focused the expanse of the property was breathtaking. The front, in all its beauty, had absolutely nothing on the rest of it. You had the urge to sneak into the vines and wander there for hours. Lost in the maze until the sun set and you were forced to find your way back.

“Erwin!” You followed the voice with your head to find a man that resembled Erwin so closely there was no mistaking their relation. Erwin was a few inches taller though, and where his father’s hair was unmistakably greying, Erwin’s was still startlingly blonde. You reached out to hold on to Levi’s elbow as you made your way down the stone steps. Erwin had already bound down them eagerly, using his wide strides to make his way across the landscape like the distance was nothing but a few feet. They hugged tightly, and the scene made you smile fondly, especially when his father left a few heavy pats on Erwin’s shoulder.

Levi wasn’t much of a hugger, so when the pair parted he just held out a hand. When Erwin’s father grinned and enclosed Levi’s smaller hand between the two of his.

“I want you to meet someone,” Erwin interjected their greeting, coming around to press his hand between your shoulder blades and pushing you forward. He said your name enthusiastically, his dad smiling down at you and it shone in his eyes. His crow’s feet wrinkled at the corner of them and you registered how handsome he was. The image of an aging Erwin flashed through your mind and you knew that time would treat him kindly.

“Hi, Mr. Smith,” you held out your hand in greeting, mimicking Levi from earlier. “It’s a pleasure.”

But instead of extending his hand towards you, he opened his arms. And before you could think of refusing, you stepped into them and he gave you a brief squeeze before releasing you again.

“Erwin’s told me a lot about you. But I want to hear it all from the source. Why don’t we start the tour?”

He placed a small flute in between your fingertips, handing one off to Levi and Erwin as well as you huddled around the tour guide who began describing the components of the wine as you sipped them.

Erwin’s father was just as inquisitive as Erwin, asking all the right questions without seeming intrusive or prying. And as the glasses kept changing from white to red to white again, your lips loosened and you spoke as if you were old friends instead of recently introduced acquaintances.

“Do you have a special someone in your life?” For some reason the question caught you off guard and you choked a bit around the sip you just took. Your cheeks were incredibly warm and you were glad to have been in the coldest part of the building– the basement– where they kept the frozen grapes for their sweetest wine.

“Uh no,” you said after you swallowed, your thumb immediately rubbing at your ring finger and swallowing again when you found it to be bare. Like you knew it would be. “Recently single, actually.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding genuinely displeased. “What happened?”

“It’s complicated.” You finished the last of your drink, the sweetness was welcome after all the dry wines, but if you weren’t already feeling it, the flavor would’ve been too much. Enough to make your lips pucker. Luckily, you were saved from further explanation when someone called him in another direction and you released a breath of relief when you found yourself alone for a moment to bury down memories you did not want to sour your mood.

“He’s always enjoyed a good interrogation,” Levi said as he slipped into the empty space beside you. You were surprised to also find him alone until you saw Erwin across the room talking to an older couple who looked rather wealthy.

“He seems well-intentioned, though.” You put your glass down on the counter as the two of you lingered behind the crowd that was being led out of the basement and into the main area.

“He is,” Levi sighed, “he’s just so…”

“Chatty,” you finished for him, smiling when he nodded slowly in agreement. “And you’re not the biggest fan of chatty.”

“You could say that,” he chuckled, pausing in the open area as the crowd came to a halt inside of what looked like a gift shop. “Sometimes things like this are a lot, especially when Erwin is pulled into a hundred different directions.”

“Do you ever just leave for a little? To recharge or something? It doesn’t seem like he would notice if you just snuck off.” You picked up a bottle on display, reading the label and trying to remember which one in the long line of wines you tried this one was. When you couldn’t remember, all of them seemed to taste the same after glass four or five, you put it back.

“He’ll notice,” he muttered, following your movements as you kept lifting up bottles and reading them before inevitably placing them back in their spots. “One time, before we started dating officially, we were at this stupid frat party that Hange dragged me to and at some point it just got too loud and rowdy and the worst fucking place in the world. And I was with Erwin for a while until he got pulled into a game of beer pong, which he sucks at.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Erwin was an athletic guy, so you couldn’t imagine him being bad at something that only required hand eye coordination and some aim.

“He throws the balls too hard, and misses almost every time.”

“Okay, that I can see,” you conceded, stopping by the store’s exit and waiting for Erwin to finish charming his way around the room.

“So, I ended up sneaking off to the back porch where the lights were out so no one ever went back there after watching him lose for the second time.” You laughed, allowing him to continue. “I didn’t realize I was gone for as long as I was and when Erwin eventually found me he was shitfaced and pissed. I’d never seen him that mad before and I thought it was because he was just drunk off his ass until he admitted how worried he was. That’s when he confessed his feelings and yeah.”

“And then you fell in love,” you teased in a sing-songy voice, nudging him playfully with your shoulder and winking at him.

“Yeah and then we fell in love,” he rolled his eyes, ears still pink from all the wine. It was endearing.

You were handed another glass by Erwin’s dad before you left. Not able to say no when he handed it to you so insistently to try. It was good, but you were unsteady on your feet and your tastebuds were not up for the task of discussing the nutty notes in it after having had so many already. The sleepiness was beginning to hit you and you were ready to be curled up in the backseat. The ninety minute car ride was the perfect amount of time to sleep some of the alcohol off.

Blessedly, Erwin was doing his rounds of goodbye and Levi managed to wrangle the keys from him so you two could sit in the car and wait for him. It was also nice to be off your feet after walking in heels for so long and you were happy to find a cardigan to cuddle into as you stretched your legs out on the seat and propped yourself up on the door.

“That was fun,” Erwin said as he slid into the driver’s seat, absolutely beaming. “But now I’m ready for bed.”

“Get us home first, big guy,” you replied.

“Yeah yeah, can’t have me falling asleep at the wheel,” he joked, but it only resulted in Levi slapping his arm and going “that’s not funny.”

You giggled at them, happy to have found people like them to spend so much time with. Glad that for once something seemed to be working in your favor. Erwin pulled up to your residences quicker than you expected since you dozed off at some point. Erwin poked your cheek to wake you and you had to swat him off as you untangled yourself from the cardigan to undo your seatbelt. You waved them both good night at your door across their little garden. The sun was barely peeking above the horizon when you stumbled inside and you braced yourself against the wall as you took a few deep breaths to prepare yourself to change. When you leaned down to fuss with the strap, your fingers struggled with the little buckle and as you huffed in frustration there was a knock at your door.

“What did I leave now–” You were expecting to see Erwin or Levi. Or even both of them, which was the least likely of the options. But if that was unlikely, this was purely impossible. Nonsensical. He was the very last person you would have ever expected to see at your door. You blinked harshly twice. As if he would disappear if you did.

“Hi,” Onyankopon said.

#eruri x reader #eruri fanfic #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction

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