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jayteacups · 5 months

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It's A Wrap!

Working on Attack on Titan as a makeup artist has irreversibly changed your life. As the end rapidly approaches, you find that letting go is harder than you’d thought. After years of harbouring feelings for Levi that you can’t divulge, his final day on set arrives. You know it’s time to say goodbye to him and part ways—but maybe you don’t have to.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader

Tags & warnings: Actor!Levi, Makeup artist!Reader, fluff, confessions, friends/idiots to lovers, alcohol consumption, briefly implied sexual content, AOT finale spoilers

Word count: 6.9k words

A/N: I’m back, happy Levi month everyone! I wrote this over the last month to cope with the fact AOT was ending and also life stuff. This is incredibly self indulgent, also I would love to tell more stories and scenarios in this AU, so this probably won’t be the last one-shot I write for actor!Levi and MUA!Reader hehehe. Disclaimer that I don't work in film or TV or makeup, sorry if there are any inaccuracies. Also please forgive me for the uncreative title, lol. Hope you enjoy the fic!

Levi’s last day on set is bittersweet.

For the final time, you lean against the wall and count down the seconds on your watch. The trailer door swings open to reveal the man of the hour. On par for the course, Levi arrives fifteen minutes on the dot before his scheduled arrival time. He’s holding his usual steaming flask of tea in one hand, with a nondescript rucksack (save for a Badtz-Maru keychain gifted to him from the Sanrio collaboration) slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” you greet him, pushing off from the wall, moving towards him like a moth to flame. He sets down his things in the sitting area and meets you halfway, letting you pull him into your arms. After years of working alongside each other, you’ve both grown accustomed to greeting each other like this in private, especially after the stress the two of you had put yourselves under during the Season 3 shoots.

“How are you feeling? It’s your last day.” You ask him as the two of you part. To your dismay, you’re already missing the warmth of his embrace.

“I’m fine. I’m not going to get all sappy about it.” His face is placid.

“That’s what Hange said when they filmed their death scene, and we saw how that ended,” you say lightheartedly. Hange had sworn to remain jovial and upbeat throughout their last day, but after seeing the several other actors cry at their phenomenal acting, they had promptly broken down. “And I bet you anything that Eren’s going to say that when he and Mikasa do the cabin scene next week, and we all know he’ll be the first to start crying and the last to stop.”

Levi rolls his eyes before he enters the wardrobe area, but you know he’s not serious. “If you think I’m going to break down in tears like Hange and the kids did, you’re dead wrong,” he continues, out of sight.

You smile. “Sure. It’s alright, you know, if you do end up crying. It’s an end of an era, we’re all going to get emotional.”

A few moments later, Levi emerges in costume, sans the bandages. He sits down in front of the mirror at the vanity table. “Yes, but I’m satisfied with what I’ve done here, and I have no regrets,” he muses out loud, continuing on from before. “And it’s not like I’m done with the show. There’s the wrap party, then the press tour and all that. So don’t expect me to get all worked up today. I’m not saying goodbye to Attack on Titan just yet.” His voice softens towards the end.

But it is goodbye for us, you wish to say. And I don’t want it to be. You haven’t been contracted for any of their press events. After you finish with Attack on Titan, you’ll have a handful of weeks before your upcoming contract for a new show begins. It’s a wonderful opportunity; the show is airing on a major streaming service and requires you to push your SFX skills to the limit. Sasha had been cast in one of the main roles and both Onyankopon and Nifa will make appearances too, so you’ll see some familiar faces on this new project. But selfishly, you aren’t ready to let go and move forward. Selfishly, you aren’t ready to part ways with Levi.

Sure, the two of you will make an effort to talk every now and then. You know him far better than to assume he’ll stop talking to you the moment Attack on Titan is finished; despite him being standoffish at first, it’s clear Levi cares deeply about everybody he’s ever worked with, cast or crew alike. But the chances of your demanding schedules ever lining up again are close to zero, and sooner or later, your frequent messages will fizzle out into a conversation lost to the ages. You’ll drift, until the two of you are strangers once more. It’s inevitable; you’ve seen it happen before with your actor friends from old projects. No doubt it’ll happen again.

You consider addressing the elephant in the room, wondering if it lingers on his mind, too. But instead, you hum in agreement and pass him a headband to hold his hair out of the way. He puts it on, clearly content to not bring it up just yet.

Levi chews on the inside of his cheek as you sort out your equipment on the vanity table. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his lips, which are a little more chapped than usual. It’s clear there is something else that’s bothering him, but you decide to let it go for now. Sometimes Levi just needs to sit with his thoughts for a moment. You’ve learned that being pushed just makes him close himself off even more. A life in the limelight can be unforgiving. Kuchel Ackerman had been the brightest star of her generation, but behind the scenes, her personal life was far from glamorous. It doesn’t surprise you that her son keeps his heart and feelings well-guarded.

As he sits and stews, you apply chapstick and some basic ‘barely-there’ makeup on his face, before creating the illusion of a hard-fought battle by adding a light layer of grime to his face. You’ll add more after the scar and bandages. As you work, Levi takes out a folder from his bag, which is embellished with a small cat sticker that Hange had stuck on years ago. From it, he takes his copy of the script, nary a crease in the sheets. Brow furrowed, he reads it over and over, mouthing his lines with the fervour of a prayer.

Now, that is odd.

“There is something on your mind, isn’t there?” You’ve also read the script for today’s scene. The director had decided to save Levi’s most poignant scene—where his character salutes the ghosts of his fallen comrades—for the very end of his shoot. (Levi’s epilogue scene had been shot a week prior.) This would be his most challenging scene yet, for it would be the first time he and his character will ever cry on screen. “You can tell me if you want. Anything you need to help you focus. There’s still time.” You give him a quick squeeze on his shoulder.

Stormy eyes glance up at his reflection, than up at yours. He puts down the script and sighs, voice subdued. “I just want to do the Captain’s ending justice, and I don’t think I can.”

“I think you can,” you murmur. You gesture for him to close his eyes, and pick up your finest brush. Willing your hand and heart into steadiness, you bring the brush up to his forehead, where the largest scar begins. You’ll never get used to how infuriatingly gorgeous he is. “No. I know you can. There is no doubting just how much you care about portraying him correctly.”

He swallows. “Well, I’ve never cried on camera before.” He stops, giving you a moment to work.

With the utmost care, you begin to draw the main line of the largest scar, the one that passes through his eye and lips. As the brush passes over his eyelid, it twitches ever so slightly, his long lashes tickling your hand. Smiling, you brush away a stray lash that had fallen onto his cheek. As you extend the line down his cheek, you try to reassure him. Levi’s usually so steadfast, but it makes sense that something like this would grow heavy on his mind.

“You’ve been practicing it with your coach, though, right? I mean, I’ve had to cover up your swollen eyes a number of times this season.”

“Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The brush reaches his lips. He opens his eyes, looking up at you through lowered lashes. Your heart aflutter, you staunchly ignore any and all thoughts of kissing him. Doing so has become more and more difficult with every passing day. Especially when every now and then, you think you see him glancing down at your lips whenever you lean in close to examine a detail of your work.

It’s more than likely that you’re imagining it, though.

Finally, the brush reaches his chin, finishing the outline of the first scar. You lean back to admire your work. After many instances of painstakingly painting on the scars and agonising over continuity, you don’t have to look at your old reference pictures to know the exact shape and curve of them, down to the millimetre. But you do so anyway, and smile in satisfaction when you compare today’s line to the pictures from the first time you drew them on him for practice. A perfect match.

“I know you’ve been working hard at it,” you continue assuring him, putting down the reference photos. “You’ve definitely come a long way.”

“Yeah, but I’m shit at it, actually. All those times we joked about how Eren would take forever to conjure a single tear every time he needed to cry, and now here I am in the exact same position. He’s going to rub this in my face should he ever find out.” He chews the inside of his cheek again, looking down. “Damn it. Don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I’m not… I don’t get nervous. I don’t show up to work feeling unprepared. That isn’t me. But today, it is.”

It’s unsettling, to see him so unsure of himself. His nerves are understandable, as he came into the show with more of a stuntman background and little actual acting experience. But anybody who’s worked alongside him could easily tell you just how dedicated he is to improving his craft, and that nobody else could play the Captain with the same quiet subtleties that Levi brings to the screen.

You hope your smile is somewhat reassuring to him. “And that’s okay. You know, crying on command really isn’t easy. I’ve worked with countless actors and many also find it difficult.” In your experience, most actors need a while to work themselves up to cry. The most obvious exception is Armin, who has the unnerving ability to turn it on and off like a light switch. “For you, all you need to do is make one tear out of one eye. You’ve managed to do that before, right?”

He nods, but the firm clench of his jaw and the crease between his brows don’t fade.

“So, it’s nothing that you haven’t practiced. And on the off chance that you can’t do it today, that’s perfectly fine. I have eyedrops in my bag.”

“Yeah, but…” He shakes his head in frustration. “This is going to sound dumb, but it… I don’t know, that feels like cheating. I know you’re thinking I’m being an idiot, and I probably am. I know eyedrops are common practice. It’s just… This is my character’s last moment before the epilogue, and I want it to be real. I don’t want to take the easy way out.”

“No, it’s not stupid. There’s no shame in needing to use eyedrops if you end up not being able to cry today, but it’s really admirable that you want to do it as authentically as possible. I think that since this is your final scene, and so many people are returning this morning, it’ll be easier than usual to muster up those tears.” Reaching for a set of different brushes and paint, you instruct him, “here’s what we’re going to do. I need you to just listen whilst I do the rest of your scars. I don’t want you to get trapped in your head about this, okay? Overthinking will just make it harder to get into character. Isn’t that what you said to Mikasa all those years back? It worked wonders for her. I often forget that this show was her first ever gig, with how good she’s become.”

He scoffs. “Really? You’re using my own words against me?”

“Well, what use is your own advice if you can’t follow it yourself?”

After a moment of hesitation, Levi sighs in defeat and closes his eyes again. “Shit, you’re relentless. Fine, then. I’ll trust you.”

You get to work, drawing the outlines of the second scar parallel to the first, then the smaller ones on his other cheek. As you add in the details, such as the texture of the stitches, you remind Levi of another story that he himself told you. He’d never worked with horses before being cast in this show, and yet was one of the quickest learners. Unsurprisingly so, since he’s incredibly kinaesthetically intelligent. To this day, the cast insists he looks the most at ease atop a horse, only second to Erwin, who actually used to ride in his childhood. You remind him that every single time, his hard work has more than paid off.

Somewhere down the line, you go off topic. Levi makes no move to stop you. In fact, he seems content just to listen to you talk about anything, everything. As the wounds take shape on his face, you reminisce on anecdotes from set, on the time the two of you spent together. With fondness, you recall your first meeting. Back then, you were an lowly assistant on the SFX team, transforming an unassuming man into the wounded soldier who, in his dying moments, listened to the Captain’s vow to eradicate the titans and bring meaning to his sacrifice. You talk about how the two of you grew closer during the filming of the second season, when Levi had a lot more free time to talk. How difficult the third season had been to film due to both of you being spread thin by additional responsibilities.

You skim over that time Levi mentioned you in an interview when asked about a favourite memory on set, and how warm it made you feel. You don’t talk about how you’d genuinely teared up after watching the final cut of the scene where Hange discovers a half-dead Levi by the riverbank, despite knowing that his ‘injuries’ were nothing more than your own handiwork.

And, with your heart clenching painfully, you certainly don’t dare to bring up the almost-kiss at last year’s cast and crew Halloween party.

———

“Cut! Perfect! Aaand that’s a wrap for Levi!”

The set erupts into thunderous applause. You clap heartily alongside the rest of the cast and crew. A deafening symphony of whoops and cheers fills the air, and if not for the growing lump in your throat, you’d join in too.

A standing ovation. Levi deserves it and more. Just as you expected, every angle the director wanted to capture had needed one take each, not a single one more. No eyedrops needed.

From your position, you can see Levi still sitting by the rock. Strangely, he makes no move to get up. Curious as to why, you peer past some crew members that had moved in the way, but you’re greeted with a sight that pulls at your heartstrings. Your eyes sting with new tears.

Curled up by the rock, Levi has his face buried in his hands, his shoulders heaving with quiet sobs.

Something in your chest aches. You knew that he would get emotional at the end—there was no way he wouldn’t, especially considering that his character cried too—but you didn’t expect him to feel so overwhelmed.

On instinct, your feet propel you towards him, but you’re promptly cut off by a few other crew members moving around. Through your rapidly blurring vision, you can only watch as several of the returning cast members rush forward from the smoke. Hange reaches him first, and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. Erwin is second, kneeling next to the duo and rubbing Levi’s back comfortingly.

Sniffling, you quickly wipe away your tears, remembering suddenly that you still have something to do. Unnoticed, you slip away from set.

There is a tradition amongst the cast that whenever a character dies, the actor receives a bouquet of flowers from the cast and crew. (A size limit had to be enforced after a very emotional Gabi had presented Sasha with a bouquet so large it couldn’t fit through the trailer door.) For this final season, the tradition has expanded to gifting the actor a bouquet when they wrap, for the characters that survive all the way to the very end.

The door to Connie’s trailer is unlocked when you arrive, just as he said it would be. Inside, you find a vase full of vibrantly coloured flowers on the kitchenette counter in the exact spot where you’d left it earlier this morning. Several weeks ago, the cast and crew had all nominated you to put in the order for the bouquet and present it to Levi on his final day, and Connie had offered to help you hide it from Levi until it was time. Careful to not drip water all over the floor, you pick up the flowers and jog back to set.

The fog machines are being carried out by the time you return. You immediately scan the set for Levi, but it seems he has been completely buried under a massive group hug with the veterans cast, no doubt Hange’s doing. You can’t help but smile at the sight. Most of the crew members appear to be taking a break before clean-up, as it is the end of the day. The air is filled with chatter, but a hush descends upon the crowd as you approach.

The actors peel away from the hug one by one. A smiling Petra helps Levi get to his feet. The bandages on his face are halfway unravelled. With one hand, he yanks them off, leaving both of his eyes to gaze at you unobstructed, ablaze with an intense emotion you can’t quite place. With his other hand, he quickly wipes away the half-dried tears on his cheeks.

“On behalf of the cast and crew,” you say hoarsely, “I give you these.” You step forward and present him the bouquet. “It’s been an honour. Thank you for everything, Levi.”

His fingers gently graze yours as he takes the flowers from you. Tenderly, he holds them close to his chest.

“I was wondering where you went just now,” he says. Of course he’d noticed. “Should’ve known you’d be the one to give me this…” His voice wavers towards the end. He scoffs and wipes at his eyes. “And to think I was done blubbering like a baby. Damn it. You were right.”

He pulls you into a hug without a second thought.

———

Somehow, you’ve been roped into taking photos for everyone. Levi unwraps the bandages around his hand before he begins. He first takes a photo with the director and producer, who both thanking him dearly. They part with a handshake. Almost immediately after, the cast members of the Alliance, along with Eren and Zeke, all swarm forward for a big group photo. They’d all come to watch in support, even if several of them weren’t scheduled to come in today. Connie confesses that he’d helped hide the bouquet by letting you into his trailer. Levi makes a light-hearted remark that he should’ve figured that out too, considering Connie also helped hide Hange’s bouquet—which Levi himself had been responsible for ordering and retrieving.

The veteran actors come forward next. Fitting them all into the camera frame was a challenge, but you manage to do it after one of your makeup assistants finds you a stool. Somehow, Erwin manages to persuade Levi into doing the Scout salute with the rest of them. (“I just did it in the scene, though… Fine, I’ll indulge in your corniness for today, you dorks.”) When he presses his fist to his chest one last time, the veterans erupt into cheers.

Hange and Erwin both stay back for a little longer. The trio pose for more photos, all grinning widely, though you decide to put a stop to the mini-photoshoot when Hange attempts to pick Levi up bridal-style and almost drops him.

(“When I said ‘put me down’, I didn’t mean for you to drop me with no fucking warning!”

“I didn’t mean to drop you. Besides, I caught you, didn’t I? You’re fine, see?”)

After that fiasco, Levi asks to take one with the original Special Ops Squad, as it had been years since they’d managed to meet up.

Zeke comes back for another photo, slipping one arm around Levi’s shoulders. As you meet the taller man’s eyes over the top of his phone, he winks mischievously, holding two fingers up in bunny ears above Levi’s unsuspecting head. Say nothing, he mouths to you. With a herculean effort, you suppress your laugh. Zeke has made it his personal mission to photobomb every main cast member from the finale. After months of shooting, Levi is the last one standing, and it’s incredibly entertaining how hard Zeke tries to finish his mission, even now.

“Hand down, Zeke.”

“Damn it, how did you know?”

“You’re about as subtle as Reiner is when he pretends he hasn’t broken a prop.”

Zeke laughs. “Nothing gets past you, Levi, does it?”

As the two continue to playfully bicker, more jokes than actual verbal barbs, you open the photo you’d managed to take split seconds before Levi called Zeke out. “Mission accomplished,” you say, and a delighted Zeke reaches over Levi’s head to high-five you. Looking mildly betrayed, Levi whips his head back around to face you.

You grin sheepishly as you pass Zeke’s phone back to him, the photo on display. “Sorry. I had to help him.”

“Why are you two like this?” Levi says, shaking his head, barely holding back a smile. He and Zeke part after a hug and a promise to get drinks soon.

Levi’s promptly joined by Falco and Gabi, and after their photo is taken, he ruffles their hair affectionately, which makes Gabi yelp. He really has stepped into the ‘cast dad’ role, a development that you find endlessly endearing. Soon after, their parents arrive to take them home— the kids have quite an early start tomorrow to film their scenes with Annie and Kiyomi on the boat.

Jean and Connie take the chance to snatch a couple of selfies with him, before the latter asks if he could join them to film a TikTok for the show’s official account. To Levi’s utmost relief, it isn’t a dance challenge. Connie instead asks him a few questions about how he feels about the show ending, and what the show means to him—he’s putting together a montage of every cast member’s responses.

On the sidelines, just out of view, you watch Levi give his answers. An ember of warmth kindles in your chest.

Soon after, Levi’s approached by the stunt team, headed by an old friend of Levi’s from his stuntman days. She’d made a cameo in the third season as Kenny’s lieutenant. You happily take a group photo for them.

After you hand Caven’s phone back to her, Hange taps you on the shoulder, having finished catching up with the other cast members. You smile as they hug you tight, swaying on the spot; today is the first time you’ve seen them since they filmed their death scene a few months back.

“It’s so good to see you!” They say, linking arms with yours. “Sorry it took so long to come and find you.”

“Don’t worry! It’s lovely having you back. How are you finding your return?”

“It’s great! I’ve really been missing this, even though it hasn’t been that long.” They pout.

“Oh, we’ve all missed you too, Hange,” you say, smiling. “Have you been up to much since you left?”

“Well, I visited my dad for a bit, then I sent in an audition tape for this thriller movie that my agent thinks I’ll be a good pick for. I also got a few other offers, but I’m a little on the fence. I’ll consider those if I don’t get that thriller role, but who knows when I’ll hear back from them?”

“I bet you’ll get it. Thrillers are right up your alley.”

“You flatter me, dear,” They grin. “Anyways, I am here to say that you are the only one left who has not taken a picture with Levi. And that needs to change. The two of you need something to remember this day by!” You realise they’ve been guiding you towards the rock, where Levi, Mikasa, Armin and Eren are deep in conversation. The younger actors are laughing boisterously at something Levi had said, heads tilted back, sporting wide grins. Levi’s still cradling his bouquet carefully, a soft smile as he speaks, looking up at his younger cast mates with endearment. Your heart warms at the sight.

The quartet look up as you approach. The younger actors wave goodbye, disappearing into the crowd. Hange quickly ushers you and Levi together, their phone already out of their pocket. “Alrighty, here we go!” They cheer. “Oi, look lively now, Levi. It’s the last photo!”

“Was about time we did this,” you whisper to him as you come close. At first, you settle into your usual stance whenever you take a photo with a cast member, but Levi is not just any cast member. Not to you. Gnawing on your lip, you grapple with yourself for a fleeting moment. Your professional side barely puts up a resistance, and so you lean in to whisper a question. Briefly, you wonder what it would feel like to kiss the delicate shell of his ear. You banish the traitorous thought, best as you can.

“Hey, can I put my arm around you for this?” As close as you and Levi have grown over the years, the two of you save your brief hugs for behind the scenes, in private. Physical affection is rare with him otherwise—whilst the cast tend to be very touchy with one another, Levi is usually seen on the sides, watching them with a quiet fondness in his eyes. That hug from earlier—it had to be a fluke, right?

And yet, he sighs, and bridges the small gap between you. His free arm moves behind you, a warm, firm hand comes to rest at your back. “You don’t have to ask, you know,” he murmurs in return. “I hugged you earlier, didn't I? Quit worrying. Go ahead.”

Warmth blooming inside you, you lean sideways towards him on impulse. You slide your own arm behind him, and Levi leans into your touch. “Just so you know,” he continues, “it was an honour working with you too.”

Hange starts to count down from three. A wave of emotion hits you, almost sweeps you off your feet. This is it. Your last day of working with him.

Still so much left unsaid.

Straining to keep your composure, you offer a wide, bright smile for the camera.

———

The next few hours are spent tidying and cleaning up. Most of the actors have gone home, but Levi stays behind to help out the crew, as he always does without fail. With how emotionally taxing the day had been, it’s a wonder he didn’t go back to his trailer immediately to crash. As if you couldn’t admire him any more.

Your eyelids are heavy by the time you finish up and arrive at Levi’s trailer. When you enter, he is slumped in a chair in front of the vanity mirror, already changed out of his costume.

Neither of you say a single word as you carefully wipe away the scars and the grime. Your traitorous hands linger for a split second too long whenever they brush against his smooth skin. In his stormy eyes are that same intense look he’d given you when you first appeared with the bouquet.

You wonder what it means.

Sooner or later, one of you will have to break this fragile silence. Levi decides to take the matter into his own hands, catching you off guard. “I guess this is it.”

The sting in your eyes returns with a fierce vengeance. You turn away for a moment, rapidly blinking your oncoming tears away. An invisible vice clamps down, mercilessly clenching your chest.

You choke on your words, but you get them out somehow. “I’ll miss you.” Not the three words you’ve been yearning to say for the last year, but it will have to do. “I’m going to miss you. So much. It’s been…” You wrack your brain, but there is no singular adjective you know of that could truly describe the past few years working on this show with him. “You know what I mean. Right?”

“I know what you mean.” Levi stands, turning to face you properly. The troubled crease between his brows return. “Look, I… I have to tell you something. Hear me out?”

Your heart thunders in your chest. You nod. “Yeah. Of course.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Remember this morning? I said I was satisfied with my work here. That I have no regrets.”

Barely able to breathe, you can only manage to nod.

“But that isn’t true. Not really. There is one thing I regret,” he says, slowly, cautiously.

Voice barely a whisper, you ask. “What is it?”

“That we never talked about what almost happened at Halloween last year.”

The world comes to a halt.

Dimmed lights. Bass reverberates through your bones. The aftertaste of a Bloody Mary lingers on your tongue. Levi is just centimetres away, his chest almost flush with yours. His eyes valiantly fight to stay focused on the intricate titan-shifter makeup on your cheeks, before he gives in and his line of sight drops to your lips. Unconsciously, he leans in slightly, seemingly gravitating towards you.

Devastating. That is the first word that comes to your mind. It is high time you realise that he will be the end of you; he could ask anything of you and you’d do it. Your heart beats for him.

Caught in his orbit, your face tilts towards his.

A drunken crew member barges past, jostling your shoulder. You yelp, stumbling to the side, before Levi’s hands—warm, steady, safe—catch you. The spell broken, he lets go the moment you are upright, averting his eyes from yours. Levi takes a step backwards—a small one, because there is barely any space in the corner of the room the two of you are tucked into. But to you, he suddenly feels so distant, that he might as well be on the other side of the universe.

“I need some air,” he says, stoic mask falling back into place. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, Levi turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd, taking all the warmth of the room with him.

No. This is dangerous territory. Since that night, the two of you had constructed an unspoken agreement to pretend nothing had ever happened. Levi had never made any impression that it was anything other than a drunken lapse in professionalism. For a while, you wondered if he even remembered that moment, or if it had all been in your head, a result of you projecting your own desires onto him.

Regardless, he had never brought it up. You’d been content to do the same. It was—and still is—impossible to fathom that Levi would ever want you.

“Tell me,” he says hoarsely, “that I wasn’t imagining things that night, and every day since. Tell me I’m not imagining that you’ve been looking at me like…”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Like what?”

“Like that!” He snaps. His hands tremble in a way you’ve never seen before as he gestures towards you, voice tinged with desperation. “Like how you’re looking at me right now. I-I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. Because if I had… maybe I would’ve…”

The staggering realisation of what he’s trying to say sinks in.

Choking back a sob of relief, you reach out for his hands, and he offers them to you with no resistance. A light blush sweeps across his face as he stares at your interlocking fingers with something akin to wonder.

Breathlessly, you dare to ask. “Do you mean it? That if you had known how I felt, you… you would’ve kissed me?”

“Yes. I would’ve. I wanted to, more than anything.” With that, Levi finally looks up from your joined hands. The burning look he’s been giving you all throughout today—you recognise it, now, plain and simple.

His earlier words ring in your mind. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner.

“Oh, Levi,” you whisper.

He continues on. “And if I had known how you felt, I wouldn’t have upped and left you like that. I was being a shitty coward, for running away and pretending it never happened, and never giving you an explanation when you deserved one. I was scared, I think, of ruining what we already had. You didn’t imagine anything on my part, it happened, and you didn’t do anything wrong that night… I’m sorry.”

Smiling, you squeeze his hands; warm, steady, safe. “You aren’t imagining things on my end either. I’m in love with you, and have been for a while now.” You don’t need him to say those precious words back for now—Levi’s endearingly clumsy attempt at confessing means more to you than he’ll ever know. “And I forgive you for running out on me that night. We both thought it didn’t mean anything to the other person. For so long, I thought that even if you did, things would never work out, that today would be goodbye, because I have a new contract on the other side of the country, and you’ll be going back to stunt work, a-and…” Your voice trembles, so you force yourself to stop, and breathe.

“It will work. I swear it, I’m not saying goodbye to you. I don’t care what’s coming next, we can make it work.” He seems to muster his resolve, tugging you closer. “No more dancing around this like idiots. We have enough lost time to make up for.”

Smiling so widely your cheeks ache, you playfully poke his cheek. “Well, you can always begin with the kiss you owe me, yeah?”

“You smart-arse.” Levi chuckles, before gently cupping the back of your head with his hand. In a swift movement, he leans in and captures your lips with his.

It’s nothing short of divine.

Levi kisses you with years worth of yearning behind it. His other hand moves to cradle your face, thumb brushing against the curve of your cheek, wiping away a stray tear of happiness.

Eyes fluttering shut, you deepen the kiss. Tongues move in tandem, and it isn’t long before hands begin to roam, exploring the terrains of each other’s bodies with an almost innocent curiosity. Heat simmers underneath your skin, a carnal flame yearning to be stoked, to devour.

For now, though, you’ll have to temper it.

Coming up for air, you close your eyes, resting your forehead against his. As much as you desperately want him, you don’t want your first time having sex with Levi to be in a trailer on set, with multiple crew members still milling around outside and packing up for the day. You tell him as such, and he murmurs his agreement after kissing you once more.

“Glad we’re on the same page about that, so…” Realising what you’re about to say next, you choke back a grin at your own cheesiness. “You wanna go back to your place or mine?”

Levi rests his forehead on your shoulder and chokes back a laugh. “Fuck, that’s such a cliché line.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, but the question still stands.”

He looks up at you, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Yours, then.”

The time spent packing up and driving back to your home crawls by agonisingly slowly. The moment the two of you cross the threshold onto your home, he’s closing the gap between the two of you, kissing you breathless, thoughtless, until only your longing for him remains. So much so that you almost forget to stop and get a condom out from your drawer—in fact, Levi has to remind you.

The rare few times you had allowed yourself to think about it, you’d pictured Levi as a tender lover, gentle despite his coarseness. He is all this and more. At his fingertips, you come alive. As he makes love to you, laughs and sweet nothings fill the air between the deep kisses you share. You should’ve expected just how generous he can be in bed, but it still takes you by surprise, the way he worships your body with a deep-rooted reverence, determined to pleasure you over and over. In turn, you reciprocate eagerly, honoured that Levi trusts you to take care of him in return, that he is so readily vulnerable with you.

Once the two of you are finally, utterly spent, Levi nudges you awake before you can fully slip into a deep doze, cosy and comfortable in his embrace. “Hey. Gotta clean ourselves up, sleepyhead.”

You chuckle drowsily, and miraculously muster up the strength to crawl out of his arms, out of the warm sheets. “The bathroom is just down the hall,” you yawn, trudging towards a cupboard not the other side of your room. “You can shower first whilst I change the sheets and find you a towel and some spare clothes, ‘kay?”

“Or,” Levi says, voice hoarse with the same kind of contented exhaustion that makes you yearn to curl up beneath the sheets in his arms, “you could come with me.” He pulls you back in, peppering gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder, which tickle slightly.

Euphoric, you close your eyes and laugh. “Okay.”

Showering together is an incredibly sweet, domestic affair. Long after you’ve rinsed off all the lather, you’re both hesitant to leave the warmth of the running water, content to cling onto each other and relish in the feeling of skin against skin.

After the two of you dry off and change the sheets, you climb into bed. Half awake and basking in each other’s presence, you pull him close, nestling your head on his chest. When was the last time you had felt so cherished, so happy?

Sleep claims you swiftly, but not before Levi kisses the top of your head and tells you what you already know:

“I’m in love with you, too.”

———

Several weeks later

The wrap party is well underway by the time you and Levi arrive.

The lights are dim, and the music reverberates through your bones. Levi’s hand finds a home in the curve of your waist as he guides you through the crowd of drunken cast and crew members. His touch anchors you, and you find yourself smiling giddily.

After helping yourself to a cocktail, the hours fly by. Apparently, the entire cast plus half of the crew (including all of the makeup assistants under your command) had been rooting for you and Levi to get together. Tonight when you finally revealed you were in a relationship with him to your juniors, you were subjected to an intense barrage of questions. This, however, paled in comparison to Hange’s reaction when Levi held your hand in front of their very eyes—they’d launched an interrogation so brutal you wonder why they didn’t enter law enforcement instead.

Soon after escaping Hange’s interrogation, you two both get another drink. “Everybody seems far too invested in this development than they should be,” you sigh, still frazzled. “How long do you reckon they’ve been shipping us?”

A look of exasperation flits across Levi’s face. “I don’t know, and I hate that I even know what ‘shipping’ means in this context. Also, I saw Zeke give Erwin money when Hange was drilling us. Fuckers had some kind of bet running on us. Don’t even wanna know how long that had gone on for.”

You tip your head back and laugh. “Colour me unsurprised. That sounds very on-brand for Zeke and Erwin. You know, I think I saw Armin and Connie do the same. Guess Armin’s not as angelic as he looks.”

“That’s been known, sweetheart. The kid’s a menace in disguise.” He kisses your cheek. “Just like you, actually, now that I think about it.”

Playfully, you swat him away. “Hey, who are you calling a menace?”

Eventually, the two of you find yourselves catching some air outside, needing a moment to sober up and recalibrate after a whirlwind of social interaction. Levi’s hand returns to your waist and tugs you closer to him, seeking out your warmth. Melting into his touch, you do you best to commit the feeling of his embrace to memory. Soon, you’ll move away for a few months for your next contract, but you no longer fear it. Levi had sworn to you that this would work out, and there is nobody’s word you trust more than his.

Your love for each other has endured for years in the past. A handful more months is nothing.

Levi shifts slightly to get a better look at you, and cups your cheek. Meeting his gaze, your heart stops; his eyes are a breathtaking silver in the moonlight. Easily the most expressive feature he has, you could get lost in them for hours.

Caught in his orbit, your face tilts towards his.

This time, Levi meets you halfway.

Do not repost, modify or claim as your own work.

Masterlist

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi x y/n #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader #aot actor au #actor levi x makeup artist reader

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jeanbie · 2 months

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IF I LAY HERE (WOULD YOU LIE WITH ME?) ★ masterlist.

pairing: eren x reader

genre: best friends-to-lovers-au, actor au, fluff mostly | warnings: fem!reader | wc: 2.6k

note: hey. i still love u guys and i am still pining over aot. will never stop probably. anyway, this was an older fic i wrote but i'm handing it down to eren! title is taken/inspired from chasing cars by snow patrol (my fav song)

⏤ Eren has had enough - it's been four months since he's last seen you, and he's not going to let his fame status keep him from seeing you any longer. He just hopes that you feel the same way when you see him again.

Eren was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that.

It was risky taking any step out of his apartment at any moment; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the bushes in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame.

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse now that he'd booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Eren takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face.

For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the actor from Attack on Titan who didn’t give a damn about the people who essentially made him and his friends famous.

But Eren thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in a different country, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures.

You were at university now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally saw every day months before. It had been four months since Eren had seen his best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.”

Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses resting on the end of his roundish nose. He led Eren out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Eren smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Eren. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road waiting to cross, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Eren's still playing that sentence on a loop in his head. She's gonna freak out when she sees you.

He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. He’s missed it here, and how unbelievably, shockingly awful it all looks when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of it online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Eren says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only really became a super fan three months ago. I'm more into Levi, you know how it goes. And yeah, I figured it out eventually. Finally, I understood why so many people at this uni wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Eren frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy online when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Eren as the words die out in his mouth.

“Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours…it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Eren feels his stomach flip, butterflies going haywire. These butterflies are bitter and relentlessly fast, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Eren is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister.

You’ve never been his sister, even when you became part of his family growing up on special occasions, or even just on a daily basis when you came to visit. There were times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different than that; you both knew it but never dared acknowledge it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice and tall, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Eren remembers looks a lot like your dad’s back in the day. Might be the same kind, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Eren, but then the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here - he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.”

He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were seventeen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep a secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left whereas Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the market, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Eren manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down.

As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person - white walls and a bed set that’s white and covered with little peonies. Above your desk, Eren recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at university who Eren always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his head against the wall your bed is attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the song playing in the bathroom ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Eren hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race.

Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and… And, then what?

Maybe you wouldn't even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Eren was travelling the world with his other friends and film crew while you were still here, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Eren was burdensome to you. Worse - maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

Eren's always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Eren feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be able to give you, even with all the money and the fame.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Jesus, Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Eren teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause, and Eren cocks his head, his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him.

Suddenly, he hears small but quick thuds across the carpet and Eren feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling when you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Eren's eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape at his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Eren absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Eren feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Eren rises up to a more comfortable position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when Eren wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck.

Eren smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow body wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds him of Cabbage Patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jet lag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jet lag, Eren realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming.

Eren kisses behind your earlobe, and then just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Eren was always a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this.

You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Eren feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8.

Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop - it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid’s bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the dazed confusion on your face as he moves the hair from across your face to around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but… Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean…the guys know I’m here. Jean drove me to the airport with Armin.”

“That’s not what I mean, though.”

Eren sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. It's only a few. Most are really nice!”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by--”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. You frown and try to change the subject, “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“I've been growing it out,” Eren replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Eren dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Eren's underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle.

The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Eren even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you, half as a joke, half not. That could be why Eren feels the way that he does, why the confusion wraps around his body and traps him.

Eren knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Eren knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. EREN YEAGER GOES TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND…BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT A.O.T EREN IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s why he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Eren might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, if all those years of confused relations and flirtations meant anything, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant being able to spend one more day with you.

Eren's got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to filming with more regrets than he came here with, and so for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth.

Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be said on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Eren doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. You hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease, then you didn’t mention it. He almost wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy being here.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it 'til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and until then, he’ll just have to be patient, even if it breaks his heart more by pretending.

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tuudles · 6 months

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Guess who's visiting Levi on aot set?

#levi ackerman #aot #snk #eruri #mobuhan #hange zoe #moblit berner #erwinsmith #hanji #attack on titan #actor au

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seeingivy · 7 months

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the third act

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

an: my eyes are burning, my wrists hurt, my head is pounding. this ended up at 14k. i hate how i wrote this chapter but enjoy yall juice.

songs/media referenced: jessica chastain and oscar isacc on the red carpet, because I liked a boy by sabrina carpenter, look what you made me do by taylor swift (++ music video), and the grudge by olivia rodrigo

previous part linked here

You stand nervously on the porch, rubbing your sweaty hands against the pleats of your dress, as you ring the doorbell, the anticipation of the door swinging open making your stomach turn over in waves.

And without a beat, Grisha and Carla are opening and standing by the door, bright smiles on their faces as they welcome you in. Carla opens her arms first and all but tackles you in the hug, the warm smell of vanilla permeating off of her skin. And Grisha, who has always been more awkward like Eren, gives you a soft squeeze on the shoulder as you hand them the flowers, and shuffle in.

You note all the pictures on the wall - Eren and Zeke swimming in a pool, Grisha and Carla’s wedding, one of all four of them hugging - as you finally spot Eren, settled on the couch with Zeke. He immediately turns his head and gives you a bright smile, all but jumping up to greet you.

Eren takes your hands in his and squeezes three times, knowing all too well of your nerves.

Of having dinner with his family, who you’ve known since you were fifteen, but as their son's girlfriend for the first time.

“Hey. You look pretty.”

“Thanks, Eren. You too.”

He curls his nose at the compliment as he wraps his arms around you, pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear. You squeeze back and muster your best, most confident smile for him in response.

Carla calls you from the kitchen and he gives you a soft smile as he beckons you to join her, returning to his spot on the couch between Grisha and Zeke. You take her side - she’s snipping the stems off the flowers you brought in - as you lean against the counter, eyes focused on Eren.

“Thank you for the flowers. How have you been, Y/N?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“Doing good, sweetheart. We’re really excited to come see your show tomorrow, Eren has been going on and on about how amazing you are in concert.”

You feel your cheeks burn at the compliment as you wave her off, turning around to hand her the vase.

“I’m really glad you’re all coming. It’ll be nice to see everyone again. It-it feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”

“You have Levi to thank for that. Of course, he casts me in a show with my son just to kill me off in the first episode.” she remarks, a soft laugh falling out of her mouth.

“Levi is a sadist. For killing you off in the first episode AND for making us such a big part of that scene.” you respond.

Eren suddenly storms out of the room, heavy footsteps running up the stairs, as Grisha starts laying into Zeke at his side. You turn to your side and watch Carla’s face fall, her hands clutched on the crystal vase.

“He’s also a sadist for casting Zeke and Eren as estranged brothers.” you murmur.

Carla gives you a smile, albeit one that doesn’t meet her eyes, as she turns to your side, her hand giving your cheek a pinch.

“Eren and Zeke. They-they’re just both sensitive. And there’s a lot of hurt there, for Eren especially. He likes to bury it down deep, argue when he knows he can’t hold his own.”

“I know it’s a touchy subject. He only brings Zeke up when he’s really hurt.”

Like during Historia’s scandal.

“I’ll go check on him. He just needs a little talking to.” she responds, making her move to walk past.

“Can I? Check on him?”

She turns, giving you a smile and tucks your stray hairs behind your ears. Like mother, like son.

“You’re sweet. Sure, his room is the first one up the stairs, to the left.”

You give her a smile and walk up the stairs, making your best effort to be quiet as you pad up the stairs past Zeke and Grisha, who are still arguing in hushed tones on the couch.

You press a light knock on the wood as you push the door open, to find Eren lying on his bed, face turned towards the windows. He’s sitting in the dark, but the lights of the city below are enough to illuminate the room brightly through his big, glass windows.

You lean onto the bed and drape one of your arms around him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you look at him. At his dimples, his freckles, and his green eyes filled with tears. Angry, hurt tears.

“Hi Eren.” you whisper.

A weighted sigh leaves his chest.

You reach forward and swipe the sole tear off his face, before pressing a kiss to his cheek. And squeeze his shoulders - your secret signal that you’re here and you’ve got him - as he nods, turning over to your side.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

He pouts, reaching forward to pinch the softness on your cheek.

“Not really.” he whispers, his voice straining in his throat.

“Okay. Well, quit pinching. You’re ruining my makeup.”

A soft smile spreads across his face at your annoyance as he brings his other hand up, now squishing both of his cheeks in his hands as he pushes them together. He’s laughing lightly, at your voice all jumbled from the squishing.

“St-stop.”

He lets go and abruptly stands up, grabbing your hand as he pulls you up to the window, the little people walking the streets of New York City beneath you two. And then all of a sudden he has his arms wrapped around you from behind, his cold face on your neck as he buries his skin into yours.

“Eren. We should go back down soon, your mom and dad are probably waiting.” you murmur.

“I don’t want to go. We can just stay up here and I’ll just tell them I was too upset.”

“But I want to see them. They invited me over as….you know. I-I don’t want them to think I’m just messing around.”

“You can say the word girlfriend, Y/N. You’re my girlfriend. And they’ve always liked you. Calm down.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, the city lights mirroring on his face as you look at him in the reflection of the glass. You’re both quiet as you watch the cars pass, the honking sounds almost muted as they reach your ears.

“I-I wanted this to be nice for you. Your family was so nice to me when I visited and Coco had all those games he wanted to play with me lined up, I just- I don’t want you to think they don’t care about you.”

“I know they care, Eren. And I know that stuff with Zeke is complicated, but you-you shouldn't get so worked up over it on my behalf. I understand.”

“I don’t know. I don’t want you to feel like we’re all soulless and that there isn’t any love in the room. Your house is so warm and I love it there. I want you to love it here too.”

You turn around in his arms, hands flat against his chest, as you look at his tired eyes, expectantly looking at yours.

“Eren. There’s so much love in the room.”

He sighs, pressing you into his arms into a hug, as he murmurs into your hair.

“Point it out to me. I’ve always had a problem noticing it.” he murmurs.

You smile against his shoulder, recounting it all.

“Your parents opened the door without a beat. Meaning…they were waiting by the door for me to show up. Because they were that excited for me, your….you know, was coming over. And-and they have all these framed baby pictures of you up, all these little memories hanging in your house. They’re all coming to the show tomorrow and-and your mom called me sweetheart, which just makes my heart tingle because she’s your mom and she said that to me, you know?”

“She’s not special. I call you sweetheart, too.” he deadpans.

“But she’s your mom, Eren! It’s special to me that she calls me that, that she likes me. You love her so much, I want her to love me too. To trust me with your heart of all people, when…when there are so many fish in the sea. To want me as her daughter and not anyone else.” you murmur, whispering out the last part so it's almost unintelligible.

He hums against your hair, his hug only getting tighter as he lifts his hands to cradle the back of your head and angle it up, so that you’re looking at him. He’s staring so intently, his eyes so wide that it sends a shiver down your spine.

“What are you thinking?” you whisper.

“About the love in the room. It’s in the palm of my hands right now.” he says, squishing your cheeks in his hands again.

You roll your eyes in response as you shrug out of his hold, only to pinch his cheeks this time.

“I find it ridiculous that you can’t refer to yourself as my girlfriend BUT you can full on admit that you want to be my parents' daughter in law.”

“Shut up. You’re so annoying sometimes.”

He smiles as he wraps his arms around you again, his laugh filling up your ears. And Grisha and Carla push the door open - clearly to check on Eren - and suddenly they’re both giving you warm smiles and thumbs up before shutting the door again, satisfied with the fact that Eren was nestled into your arms and laughing. That he wasn’t angry and wound up anymore.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, shrugging you out of your slumber, only to find Falco - wide blue eyes staring into yours as you try to gain your bearings.

“Huh, what?”

“Sorry.” he responds, a sheepish smile on his face.

You place your hand directly on his face and slam him back down onto his pillow, pushing out a great string of profanities at him as you do.

“What’s your problem? Can’t let a girl sleep?”

“Hey! I was doing you a favor.”

“Yeah, thanks for being a pain in my ass.”

He frowns, reaching forward to smack your cheek as you start smacking his hand off, the two of you play fighting in the tangled sheets of your bed.

“You’re always so annoying, Falco. Get out of my room.”

“You were saying his name in your sleep! I just wanted to wake you up in case you were sad!”

You both pause in the air, your raised hands releasing at the mention of him, like a bad omen was whispered into the air. You give him a tight lipped smile as you nod, leaning back onto the plush of your pillows as he joins you, your pair of eyes focused on the dark ceiling above.

It’s Falco’s night to sleep with you. They all take turns - Colt, your parents, Falco - because more often than not, there’s something haunting your dreams. It’s the fight you two had outside the house before he left. It’s Connie crying. The camera smashing. And when you can’t will yourself to sleep, every shred of self-preservation goes out the window and you end up on social media.

Scrolling through pages and pages of the same thing. Of the interview, of how you made an entire career off of people who were more famous than you, of how you had to be the one on top.

How you were a homewrecker, a slut, not pretty enough to be a lead, an overrated popstar, who didn’t write her own music, who could barely keep her own in a role, who at your core, was nothing at all.

Falco’s hand curls around yours under the sheets, warm and soft, as you turn and place your free hand in his hair, carding your fingers through the tresses of his hair.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Falco?”

“Can I say something really messed up?”

“Please.” you respond, fighting the smile on your face.

He smiles as he turns his face towards you, the pillow deflating under the weight of his head.

“I know everything that happened sucked, like literally every person on the internet making fun of you and all the interviews and people commenting on your looks and-”

“Get to the point.” you deadpan.

“I’m glad you were home for the past few months. And indefinitely too, not like you had somewhere else to run off to.” he murmurs.

You press your temples against the pillows, his words hanging in the air as they twist into something unruly in your chest.

Another one of your regrets - leaving your family out here alone, prioritizing your career over them. His words keep company with every other mistake you’ve ever made.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell if you even done anything right.

“I’m sorry, Falco. I-I’m going to come right back after the awards show. And I’m not going to take any roles or concerts and stuff at all after that. I-I need time to just be here and rest after…everything.”

“Good. You’ll finally have time to learn Rocket League properly.” he responds, smiling.

You take the spare pillow and smack it across his face, eliciting a laugh from him as he lifts his own and returns the favor.

“It’s a stupid game. I refuse to play it.”

“That’s just because you suck. And plus, I can carry you. That’s what I had to do with Eren too and he was worse than you.”

He immediately backtracks.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Falco. He was important to you like was to me too. You-you can bring him up.”

You’re both quiet again, the thought of him on the forefront of both of your minds.

“You know he said he considered me a brother? That we weren’t just friends, that we were like family.” he whispers, tears in his eyes.

“Falco.” you murmur.

“Sorry. I-I know that that…this entire thing is worse for you than it is for me. But I just-”

“No. He-he made you part of it too, Falco. It-it’s okay to feel sad about it.”

“I just don’t understand why, Y/N. Who does all that stuff? Is being famous really all that?”

“To some people. I-I guess it’s all he’s ever known, you know? His parents were famous, his brother was famous…it makes sense that it means so much to him. He-he doesn’t care about the things we do.”

“I-I don’t like not talking to him. I….I really did think of him as my brother you know.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter. You have a real brother.” Colt says, shuffling into the room and face planting Falco into the mattress.

You both laugh as he flops onto the bed, clearly woken up by both of your talking.

“Yeah, well you’re annoying. He said I was cool.” Falco responds.

“He’s always had a horrible lack of judgment. First, for liking you. Second, for entertaining any of your crap for a second.” Colt says, pointing at the two of you as you frown at him.

“Jokes on you, Colt. He didn’t even like me.” you respond, matter of factly.

“That wasn’t the burn you thought it was.” Falco murmurs, eliciting laughs from both you and Colt.

You scooch to the side and open the space to your left as Colt climbs under the covers, leaving you nestled between the two of them as you all argue over blanket hogging before falling asleep.

You stand by the door as you watch the five of them trudge out of the car, an instant and harsh reminder of the entire life you lived, the one you’re about to be perpetually stuck in again, refreshing in your mind. Of the pain you’ve buried quiet and deep, suddenly raw.

It’s easy to pretend like it didn’t happen - when you’re at home and you turn your phone off. When Colt makes fun of you and Falco forces you to play board games with him, getting so irrationally mad whenever you win.

When you can pretend like he doesn’t exist. That you’re not famous and that no one knows your name, that this is all you’ve ever known. Board games, family dinners, the patch of grass in the backyard under your fingertips.

But when Danny, Sareen, Sukuna, Historia, and Jean are walking up the pavement, smiles on all of their faces illuminated by the moonlight, albeit not full ones, you know the small bubble you’ve sheltered yourself in for the past three months is going to shatter.

And you’re going to be in the thick of it.

Danny and Sareen reach you first, both planting a kiss on your cheek before sliding in, dragging their bags behind them. They spare no greeting, which you’re sure is no thanks to the grave you’ve been digging for yourself.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Jean.” you respond, mustering your best smile as he opens up his arms and pushes you into a hug, hands rubbing up and down your arms.

“You good?”

“Trying to be.”

He gives you a smile as he pulls back, his eyes soft as he looks at you.

“Mika misses you. She’s very annoyed at your whole vow of silence, never leaving my house, hermit crab thing. You could at least respond to the Tik Toks she sends you.”

“Sorry, I- I don’t mean to-”

“Y/N. I’m just joking.” he says, tone soft as he gives you a smile.

“I miss her too. Why isn’t she here?”

“Danny and Sareen think her hysterics aren’t conducive to the situation. I agree.” he responds, giving your shoulder a squeeze as he follows in.

Sukuna makes his way over next, hands fixed behind his back as he gives you a smile. And the fact that he’s already hiding whatever it is behind his back, is enough to piss you off.

“Hi doll.”

“Hi pervert. Why are your hands behind your back?” you mutter, rolling your eyes at him.

“Got a gift for you.”

“Is it a sex toy? Because I’m about to get you registered as a sex offender if you think you’re being funny.”

“Unfortunately, not.”

He removes his hands from his back and holds it in front of you - a tub of ice cream with your name scribbled on the top.

“Really, Sukuna? I thought you wouldn’t buy me ice cream if he stopped texting me.”

He sighs, giving you a hug - which feels awkward coming from him - before pulling back and fixing the hair hanging by your shoulders.

“He did worse than that, doll.” he says, placing the tub in your hands as he walks past where Jean’s calling him.

Which leaves Historia - who you haven’t talked to in years besides three pestering phone calls, the last one being the only reason you’re even letting any of them shatter your bubble right now - staring at you, with her bright, blue eyes.

“You look horrible.” Historia states, matter of factly.

You snort.

“Never one to coddle, were you?”

“Nope.” she responds, smiling as she links her arms with yours and presses a kiss to your cheek as you walk in. You feel warm at the fact that she came all this way, that she’s standing by your side as you brace the wolves. If you can even get yourself that far.

You settle in at the table as the five of them talk in scattered conversations - Danny and Sareen talking about stylists, Sukuna and Falco arguing about god knows what, Colt and Jean talking in hushed tones.

You take a deep breath as you slide into the seats across from Danny and Sareen, ready to face the wrath of ignoring them for three months, of letting interviews and podcasts and everything in between go on and on without making any effort to defend your name. And forsaken the years they’ve poured into your career without a second thought.

“We should have reached out to Historia and told her to call you earlier. Didn’t realize it would be this easy to rile you up.” Danny states, sliding a folder over to you.

“Wasn’t that easy. I-I’m still on the fence about going out there again and all that.” you respond, as Jean and Sukuna take the seats next to them, Jean’s foot finds yours under the table and he gives you a light tap as he smiles at you

You give him a smile back, his small move of reassurance helping ease your nerves in the room. Historia must sense them too because suddenly her hand is in yours under the table, cracking each of the knuckles in your fingers.

“You don’t want to defend your name? At all?” Sareen asks, an irritated tone falling out of her mouth.

“I don’t think I’m strong enough for that. There’s so much they’ll ask, so much they’ve already said that I don’t think-”

“That’s all the more reason to do it. He��s talked over you for months now, he does one interview and then all his little minions make it a point to bring you up in some way or another after it.” Danny states.

“I know that. I just think-”

You pause, the frustrations, the signals in your head getting worked up. You’ve thought about it all, long and hard. And every feeling of hurt, every memory of the past seven years gets tangled up in it. And you can’t decide.

There’s so many reasons to do it. To embarrass Eren the way he embarrassed you, to drag his name through the mud the way he so callously did yours. To whatever shred of humanity is still in him, to make it ache, to hurt him in the one place you know it’ll stick. Take the one thing he cares about - his fame - away from him.

But there’s so many reasons not to. Why would you embarrass Eren the way he embarrassed you? How does that make you any better than him? There is no part of you that can relish in hurting him. When you still love him.

“It’s complicated, that’s all. And….and it’s Eren, this type of thing isn’t easy for me.”

“Y/N.”

You turn your head to Historia, tilting your head expectantly to the side as you wait for her to talk. Her hands are soft on your shoulders, squeezing lightly as she talks.

“That’s not your Eren.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Eren you’re talking about. The one you’ve been in love with since you’re fifteen. He-he isn’t that guy anymore. He’s not the one who encourages you to be better, who pushes you out of your comfort zone, who writes love songs on pianos with you. He-I don’t know what happened to him. But don’t mix up the two.”

“Historia.”

“He may look, sound, even smell and feel like the Eren you knew. But that’s not who he is. We’ve known Eren forever. Would he really smash that camera? Would the guy you love do something like that to Armin?”

You pale. The smashed pieces of the camera are still a gut punch. And you know Armin has yet to buy a new one, his own feelings mixed up in his hurt as well.

“Don’t mix them up, Y/N. He let Connie do drugs. And let Connie come back too, when he knew what happened.”

You and Armin put all of your energy into getting Connie out of there, only for him to return to that godforsaken set a week later. And any efforts the two of you had to stop him were only met with the harshest words back.

You can’t tell what’s worse. Eren breaking your heart the way he did or Connie being so unwilling to accept your help, that he’d insult you both to get you out of his hair. That Connie was already that far gone. That Eren let him get there.

“Y/N. He-he’s really not the same anymore. And he hasn’t been for a while. I think even you know that. And it’s time for you to let him go. To stop protecting him and start thinking about you.” Jean says, hands folded over the table.

“You’re really going to let him do this? Drag your name in the mud? Because everything you’ve done is a result of your hard work. You’re the one who acted in the show, you’re the one who wrote all those albums on your own, back to back with-with no break, Y/N. You’ve poured your blood, sweat, and tears into this. He doesn’t get to take that away from you.” Historia says, words laced with venom.

You turn your head to Sukuna, the only person who's been uncharacteristically quiet this entire time.

“Any advice for me?” you ask, the tone hopeful.

“You’re a smart girl. Think hard on what you think you should do. Quit looking to us for answers.”

You roll your eyes at him, dissatisfied with his always vague answers.

“I’m on your side whatever you do, doll.” he counters.

“Sleep on it. We’re here tomorrow morning, whatever you decide.” Sareen and Danny state, definitively.

You give Danny and Sareen a smile as your parents show them to their rooms down the hall, Colt and Falco dragging the two boys up the stairs. Much to Falco’s dismay, Sukuna has taken too much of a liking to Falco and is insisting that Jean sleep with Falco and not Colt. (Falco’s scared of Sukuna and is sweating at the thought of sharing a bed with him.)

You take Historia to your room, her bag dragging behind her as you point out the bathroom to her. She gives you a smile and pads out twenty minutes later, her head wrapped in a sock.

“Nice hair, George Washington.”

“Shut up. They’re heatless curls. And I’m shocked you even know who that is considering you always sucked in history.” she responds, giving the walls one look before crawling into the sheets with you. You quickly shut the light off, everyone’s thoughts from earlier ruminating through your head.

Her hand finds its way to yours under the bed, giving yours a squeeze as she lets a sigh out.

“The empty spots on the wall?” Historia asks.

“Yeah. I-I came back and his face was everywhere. It kept making me cry.” you respond.

She shuffles to her side, head facing yours as you mimic her motions.

“Armin told me what he said. You know, I really do mean that he’s not the guy you were in love with.”

You swallow hard, thinking back to Eren on the beach, how that was your Eren. About how wrong they all are.

The waves crash in the distance as the stars glitter above, your head resting against Eren’s lap. His hands are in your hair, one of his favorite places for his hands to be, as you both watch the waves rise and fall in the periphery.

“Up.”

You look up at him, as his eyes looking down at yours.

“Am I a cavewoman? What happened to please? Oh Y/N, sweetheart, please sit up.”

He rolls his eyes as he brings his hands down from his hair to your cheeks, his fingers soft on your skin.

“Y/N.” he says, drawing out the syllables with a voice so sweet it makes your cheeks burn.

“Huh?”

“Sweet, sweet love of my life. Please sit up. I want to look at your pretty eyes, your sweet, perfect face, and hold it in my hands.” he says, a smile on his face.

You can feel your face turning what you’re sure is red as you scramble up and Eren readjusts so you’re closer to him, your face in his hands. And then he’s looking into your eyes for so long, the moon shining bright on his face, that you see his eyes are filling with tears.

“Eren?”

“Not crying. It’s the salt air.” he sniffles, eyes pained.

“It’s okay if you are. I-I just want to know why.” you whisper.

“Nothing. You’re just here with me, after so long. I-I just missed you a lot that I’m still feeling like I miss you. Preemptively, for when you’ll leave next.”

You smile as you shuffle into his arms, resting your head against his as you run your hands through his hair now.

“I missed you too. I’m not going anywhere, so don’t worry about that.”

You feel him tense under your touch, his arms around yours squeezing you harder.

“Y/N.” he says, tone in his voice warning.

“No, Eren. I-I’m staying. I made the mistake of leaving you once already and I-I learned my lesson.”

He pulls back only to pull you in for a kiss, so deep that you can almost feel it. The longing, the same one you’ve shared pouring out of him and into you. It’s strong enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Anywhere, huh?” he says, a deep sigh leaving his chest.

“You’ll have to drag me out by my hair if you want me gone. You-you’re stuck to me, Eren.”

“Okay, sweetheart. You’re stuck to me too. I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” he responds, half smiling.

And when he pulls you in for a kiss this time, it goes further. His hands are hovering over your heart, your hips, all over your body.

You remember what happened next. And that the sweetness before was only a precursor for that. And it stings, so hard, the betrayal sitting so deep that you have angry tears in your eyes.

He isn’t your Eren. Or maybe Eren just isn’t who you thought he was.

“You’re right. I-I’m going to do it.” you say, giving her your most confident smile, even though you’re both confined to the dark.

“Good. I’m by your side, however you want me to help. It would be a gut punch to everyone if I was the one helping you, considering their one proof that you’re a self-absorbed pedestal climber is that you stopped being friends with me.”

She’s broached the elephant in the room. The one that’s been bothering you for years, but even more so since she was the one who called you first.

After months of radio silence.

“Historia.”

“Yes?”

“Why did we stop being friends?”

She pauses, realizing her mistake all too fast.

“We didn’t stop being friends, Y/N-”

“No. I want to know and you’re going to tell me. Quit being so bitchy about this entire thing because you’ve actually hurt me more than you think. You owe me this.” you respond.

The silence hangs in the air.

“Did you listen to lacy, Y/N?” she whispers.

“Yeah. I texted you about it, it was really good.” you respond.

“Did you understand it?”

You pause.

“I think so.”

“Then you should understand.”

“Historia.”

She sits up in the dark and you follow suit, both of you sitting crisscrossed in front of each other, the thickness in the room sitting heavy.

“Look. Do you remember that line? In season two? I’m the worst girl who ever lived?”

“Yeah.”

“Levi and Hange didn’t write that line. I-I just said it. And if you really want to know why we aren’t friends, why I couldn’t stand you, it-it’s because I’m horrible. And it’s fucking embarssing that I am. I seriously am the worst girl who ever lived.”

You reach for her hand, locking it in with yours.

“You’re not horrible.”

“I am. I just- I couldn’t stand you, Y/N. You were perfect. You were pretty, you were nice, you were kind - there was no reason to hate you. You were a natural at acting. You wrote your first song and it was a fucking hit. Then you had a best selling album, a sold out tour. And on top of all of it, you weren’t some soulless popstar.”

“You had those things too.”

“You had a relatively normal childhood, before you willingly came into this. You have brothers who would die for you, friends who adore you, Levi and Hange basically treat you like you’re their kid, and you had Eren. You got love right on the first try.”

You swallow hard.

“I-I’m not trying to throw the Eren thing in your face. I-I just mean. You got to love someone in the open. Everyone praised you guys for it. There wasn’t any shame, there wasn’t any hurt, you and Eren just got to be together.”

And then you realize it. There wasn’t any shame.

“Historia. Is it because-”

“You know how fucking heart wrenching it is to have all these big feelings for Ymir and have to swallow them down because I want to have a fucking career? Watch her walk away because I’m too embarrassed to love her in the open but she isn’t embarrassed of me back? How agitating was it to watch you throw away what you had with Eren after I had to do that just because I’m gay and you can’t be gay if you want what we do?”

You wrap your arms around her, stifling her sobs into your shoulder as she cries, chest heaving.

“You just pissed me off because you did the same thing I did. Even when I told you to be better, both of you. And then it became this big thing in my head, so big that I didn’t even know what was happening.”

“Historia, I’m not mad at you.”

“See, that’s the thing. I stopped fucking talking to you and you wrote dorothea, about how you’d always have a spot open for me even though I don’t fucking deserve it. I’m over here talking about how jealous I am of you when people have ridiculed you for years, like you weren’t tired out of your fucking mind when you were doing all that, like you didn’t lose Eren too, like people didn’t strip you of everything you’ve done and embarass you for the past few months..”

“It’s okay, we all do that and-”

“You did nothing wrong. But it still hurt me. I-I’m the worst, Y/N. We-we were sisters and I did this.”

“Historia. Shut the fuck up for like two seconds. This is what being sisters is.”

“Huh?” she says, teary eyes wide as you reach forward and swipe her tears away.

“Siblings, sisters. They-they tear you apart. You tear me apart just as much as I do you, Historia. I adore you but you make me feel ashamed sometimes, because I’m not as cool as you. You make me feel so lonely but you’re the only person I want to be around. And when you’re around me, I want to cry because I love you so much. Sometimes you irritate me so much I want to strangle you for being stupid. I want to be just like you but I hate it when people compare us. You’re the only reason I have confidence right now but I want to cry when I think about us when we were little because we used to giggle about stupid shit before going to bed.”

“Y/N.” she says, weary tears spilling out of her eyes.

“Why do you think I picked up your phone after you didn’t talk to me for months? Why are you sleeping in my bed next to me right now? Every shitty feeling you have about me is one I’ve had too, maybe even worse than yours. That’s what makes you my sister - not some do good, feel good shit that’s perfect. Being siblings, being sisters - we’re stuck together. Despite all the shitty, despite all the bad, there’s deep good. Which is why you’re here. Which is why I'm letting you be. So quit feeling sorry for yourself for like two seconds and just shut up.”

Historia nods, sinking into your arms again as you run your hands through her hair, rubbing small circles into her back.

You lost Eren. But you got Historia back. Everything you lose is a step you take.

“Y/N. You really hate me too sometimes?”

“Sometimes?” you repeat, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

“Bitch.”

You both laugh, too hard that you’re both smiling so hard it hurts.

“You’re really annoying. You couldn't even text me after I wrote dorothea to say you liked it? And what the fuck is skin like puff pastry? I use La Roche Posay, my skin isn’t even that dry anymore.”

“Okay. You just had to write the most high ground, mature ass song about me. You couldn’t write some fucking diss track about how I’m ugly?”

“I’m not you. I don’t make fun of people for having dry skin.” you respond, the two of you lying flat against the sheets.

You both talk into the night, only until Sukuna yells at you both to shut the fuck up, do you go to sleep. It’s your first night without a nightmare. And when you wake up, you’ve decided.

It’s time to take back your name.

You sit in the plane, rubbing your nervous hands against the seats of the plane, as you watch the city get smaller below you, your house somewhere in the expanse getting left far behind. Revenge sits heavy on your mind. Jean nudges you with his elbow, giving you a half-hearted smile.

“Mikasa might kiss you straight on the mouth when she sees you again. Out of respect for my future marriage, I do ask that you respectfully dodge her.”

You laugh, nudging him back.

“I make zero promises. Also, barf. Future marriage? Since when are you so adult?”

“What do you want me to call my wedding? A hangout?”

“Obviously.”

He rolls his eyes as you both focus on the view, the city lights shining beneath the plane.

“Pick a date?”

“Maybe after we finish filming season four,” he says.

“That’s so long from now. What happened to ‘oh I can’t wait another second to spend the rest of my life with her’” you respond, mimicking his voice.

“Quit it. I can’t actually. But we want things to settle before we get married.”

You frown.

“Are you postponing your wedding because of me? Because I’m about to stir shit up?” you whisper.

You find out quickly that the combination of Historia, Danny, and Sareen - coupled with Sukuna’s willingness to do anything you ask of him - creates a monster of pettiness you could never dream of.

“No. Not you.” he responds.

He leans his head against the headrest, eyes focused on the fluorescent lights above. You mimic the motion, focusing on the little call lights and vents above the two of you.

“I’ve dreamed about my wedding to Mikasa for years. Basically since I’ve known her.”

“Gag. You guys are so sweet it makes my stomach hurt.”

“I always imagined it in a specific way. Her dress is simple, because Mikasa isn’t one for theatrics, despite how hysterical she gets. It’s got a short train but she has a pretty, flowing veil. Her hair is long again, her cheeks are pink, and she looks perfect.”

You smile, heart burning for Mikasa and her sweet love.

“Levi and Hange are there, pretending not to cry. Connie and Sasha get too drunk during the reception, Reiner’s making some weirdly inappropriate speech but it’s sweet because it’s him. No one knows how he got the microphone, by the way. Annie and Armin are kissing in the photobooth and get caught.”

“God. They’re doing more than kissing, that’s for sure.”

He snickers. And then sighs before talking again.

“You’re the maid of honor. And Eren’s the best man. You guys get to stand on opposite sides of us and sneak each other secret looks, ones only you understand while we’re getting married. Because all you both have is the fucking audacity, always eye fucking each other everywhere, even at our wedding.”

You smile through the sting. Eren did love his prolonged eye contact.

“And when we do our first dance, you both write us a sweet love song that puts into words what it’s like to love Mikasa. It makes it perfect. That I get to start my life with Mikasa on a high note and that our two best friends get to be a part of it.” he states, chest deflating.

You swallow hard.

“You both helped me sneak into Mikasa’s room so I could sleep next to her. Covered for us whenever Levi almost caught us, even if it meant you both got in trouble. Eren’s let me talk about her for hours on end, unlike Connie and Reiner who thought it was stupid. He even told me to tell her I loved her first, even though I was scared. Helped me plan our first date, how I proposed, I-”

He stops, voice quiet when he talks again.

“We’re not getting married right now, but not because of you. It’s because I’m having trouble getting over the fact that my wedding isn’t going to be how I’ve always dreamed it was. Because of Eren.”

You wrap your arm into his and lean your head against his shoulder, which he returns by resting his head against yours.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Give him hell for me?”

“That’s a promise, Jean.”

Eren hates red carpets. The flashing lights, the screaming voices, and his head being pulled twenty places at once as people scream his name. The novelty of it all - of the excitement, of the rush, of people so intently asking you questions and hanging onto your answers - is long gone for Eren.

Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to talk much during the interview. Hyla talks for him.

“Eren. How do you feel being nominated for Best Actor in a TV Series?” the interviewer asks, holding the microphone up to him.

Hyla, who's hanging off of his arm, excitedly answers for him, cheeks gleaming as she talks.

“So thrilled. This has been Eren’s dream since he was little, when he started filming Attack on Titan. I’m excited to see it finally come true for him.” she says, reaching forward to pinch his cheek.

Eren gives a polite smile as he moves halfway down the carpet, eyeing Lana at his side who makes a gagging motion before they both turn back to the cameras. Except all the photographers in front of him - who were intently snapping pictures of him and Hyla - have all run to the other side of the carpet, back at the start and are making loud cheering sounds as the flashes go off.

Hyla drops her hand from his as Lana walks up, lightly pushing Hyla to the side as she links her own arm in Eren’s.

“Who do you think it is?”

“Ten bucks it's Gojo. Maybe this time it’s a dog suit.” he murmurs, earning a laugh with Lana.

“Dog-jo.” Lana states.

“If you say Daddy’s home.” he sings, in a high-pitched voice, which has the two of them laughing.

They both slide up and peer through the side of the crowd, the group of people on the carpet crowded to watch what everyone was so keen to take a picture of, paparazzi going as far as nearly climbing on top of each other, to get past the rope.

And when Eren catches sight of what it is, who it is that has them acting up like this, the air gets tangled in his throat. And he’s crushing Lana’s arm into his.

It’s you. Unlike he’s ever seen you.

Eren gets it. The whole branding thing that Sareen and Danny leaned into. That you were a sweet lover girl, who wrote happy songs - about love, friendship, the sweetness that comes with it all. Which melted into everything, including how your team styled you.

Always modest, soft outfits. Light colors - pink, purples, pastel blues that were willowy and warm, like you. Not bold, not daring, but familiar and soft.

But the way you’re dressed now, you’ve done a full send to the other side. A dark, black dress, perfectly accentuating every curve of your body, matching with gloves that go all the way up to your biceps. And cover up your fish tattoo.

Eren’s eyes are watering. To see shoulders he’s kissed hundreds of times, your neck that he’s left tons of marks on, those sweet eyes that kill him and the lips he’s kissed, only a few feet away from him and not in his dreams.

He hasn’t seen you in three months. And what’s more, is every deep dive search he did of you on the internet - embarrassingly so - was only the barrage of hatred that people were sending towards you, not anything mentioning how you actually were or if you were even seen in public.

Sometimes Eren thought you were dead. And he knows that if you were, it was his hands that killed you.

You’re standing in the middle still, lights flashing against your glittery makeup, the softest of smiles on your face as you twirl around the carpet, which elicits a grandiose amount of cheers from the paparazzi as they start asking you questions.

Are you performing tonight?

Who are you here with?

Where have you been the last three months?

Eren’s sweating. Because the mix of emotions - of this entire thing - has suddenly worsened tenfold. You’re here. You’re okay. And you look beautiful. The way he’s seen you hundreds of times - in the confines of your bedroom, in hotel rooms, on the beach, but now out in the open.

There’s another round of cheers as Sukuna, of all people, walks up next to you. And the next scene is enough to upset his stomach, to vomiting level, and enough to finally get Hyla to walk over and watch. Lana’s the only thing bracing him in the moment, her light nudges indicating they should walk away.

But all Eren can do is stare. He’s sixteen years old, watching the girl he likes get kissed on the stage while announcing an award. And now he’s twenty two years old, watching the girl he loves - in his own sick and twisted way - all dolled up on the red carpet but millions of miles away from him.

Sukuna walks up and gives you a bright smile, which has you leaning forward and cupping his face in your hands. You’re both smiling at each other so hard, so warm that everyone else around you is cheering. And deep, burning jealousy stings in Eren’s chest once again.

He watches Sukuna pull you in, hand cradling the back of your neck and his eyes closed as he hugs you - knowing he’s surely breathing in that sweet, flowery smell you always seemed to emanate. And then you’re playfully pushing Sukuna away as you try to snap your own pictures, which only has Sukuna only moving closer. And the paparazzi cheering louder.

Sukuna’s pulling down the edge of the glove, leaning down to press the longest kiss of Eren’s life to your skin, right where he knows your tattoo is, as he watches your cheeks burn pink and the crowd erupt. Sukuna’s hand now resting carefully against your waist, against the black fabric of your dress and Eren’s realizing that he truly, in earnest, is not strong enough for this. For the smug, knowing smiles on both of your faces.

Eren knows that you know you look good. And that you know you’ve got their attention.

And that you have to know, surely with full confidence, that you’re driving him insane. That Sukuna purposely kissed the spot on your skin that was proof that you once belonged to him.

“God. She’s really leaning into the whole slut thing, huh?” Hyla states, which finally draws Eren - and Lana’s - attention away from the two of them.

“God. You’re really leaning into the whole jealous ‘girlfriend’ thing aren’t you?” Lana asks, rolling her eyes as she drags Eren to the side of the carpet, as Sukuna and Y/N walk past.

Except, the two of you turn your heads and bee line straight to where the three of them are standing, which has Eren’s palms sweating and his skin burning as you look at him. And the breeze pushes that flowery, lavender smell into his nose. That block in his chest, that’s been sitting there for the past few years, is paralyzing.

The darkness around your eyes, they only accentuate how big they really are, the glitter dusted perfectly against your skin, and your lips - full and pink that Eren can’t help but stare. You divert your gaze and look at Lana, to his left.

“Hi La-La. You look very pretty today. Pink is your color.” you say, the familiarity of your voice making Eren’s heart ache.

Lana, albeit a bit shocked you’re even speaking to her in the first place, extends her hand, reaching out to hold yours.

“Thank you, Tinky-Winky. You’re gorgeous. A vision in black.” Lana responds, giving you a smile which you blissfully return.

Eren’s sweating. He’s in his own personal hell right now.

“Nice dress, Y/N, Not your usual look.” Hyla states, each syllable harsh as it falls out of her mouth.

Never mind. Now, he’s really in his own personal hell.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Sukuna asks, brown eyes glaring into Hyla’s.

“So, you’re dating then?” Hyla asks, crossing her hands across her chest.

The two of you don’t respond, giving each other knowing smiles, as Sukuna only leans into you more, leaving Eren entirely unsure of what’s unfolding in front of him.

“Figures. You always did have a thing for sluts.”

“Hyla.” Lana and Eren state, matching warning tones in their voices.

“The only person I’ve ever dated is you. But I’m glad you’re self aware about what you are.” Sukuna responds, taking the bait.

You walk closer, tilting your head to the side as you look at Hyla.

“You might want to keep him under wraps today. He’s always had a thing for me in dresses.” you state, giving the two of them sickly sweet smiles.

It’s the one time he’s seen Hyla stutter. Granted, the way you’re smiling at her, leaning into her space with your shoulders pushed back - Eren understands the feeling. He would hate to be the next person to piss you off.

Eren pales. Any anger you have for Hyla must be tenfold when it comes to him. And he realizes why you’re here, in a black dress of all things.

Revenge.

“Of course, you would be the one to tempt him while you’re with another guy. You really are a whore you know that?”

“It’s not my fault your boyfriend is dragging me to beaches and begging me to kiss him. Granted, I understand that kissing you is so revolting that it makes him vomit. I can empathize with the desperation, Eren.” you respond, giving the three of them a smile.

Hyla’s so infuriated that she’s stomping down the length of the red carpet to where the rest of her friends are, which has you turning your gaze to Lana, who's smiling. You give her a wink which she beams at, as you return your gaze to Eren. You give him one last look up and down before you walk to the end, the cameras following you.

Before Sukuna can walk away, Eren pulls him back by the collar, whispering in his ear.

“Sukuna.”

“What?”

“How is she? Really?”

Sukuna sighs, Eren’s pitiful green eyes nearly pissing him off.

“Look at her. How do you think she is?”

Eren deflates.

“She’s going to give them exactly what they want, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you make any attempt to even stop her?”

“Do you seriously think I could? After what you said? This is your fault, Eren. You made the wrong move.” Sukuna mutters.

“Well, what the fuck was I supposed to do? Seriously, in earnest, tell me. Because you take the high and mighty ground here telling me I make mistakes but offer no other fucking option as to what I’m supposed to do.”

Sukuna shoves Eren into the backdrop.

“Watch yourself tonight. I’m serious. Don’t act like you didn’t know better when you know I warned you ahead of time. You dug your own grave. Now sit in it, Jaeger.” he warns, stalking off to the end where you’re waiting before the paparazzi catch on.

The anger simmers off of Eren, the frustration building, as he storms right past, straight into the auditorium inside and takes his seat. He’s had enough of the red carpet.

He leans over the seat, placing his head in between his knees as he pulls at the strands of his hair, trying to even his breaths as he tries to still the panic in his chest. He feels a hand on his shoulder, which he leans into.

“Fuck, Lana. What are we supposed to do now?”

He looks up to not find Lana, swallowing hard at the sight of Scott Clarkson himself, standing in front of him. With Danny and Sareen at his sides.

You shake the microphone nervously in your hand, the familiarity and sleight of hands of performing coming back to you as you watch the stages move up and down - Historia directing the crew to perfectly place the props in place.

“Your outfits are in the back room. You should change now.” the lady states, striking through something on her clipboard as you gesture for Historia to join you.

She nods as she runs up to your side, hand in yours as you both start nervously walking to the back. The outfits, they’re matching identical sets - blue for Historia and green for you. As you both slip your outfits on, you hold your phone out for Historia and swallow the lump in your throat.

“What?”

“Go on Twitter. I-I want to know what they’re saying about the red carpet. But I don’t-I need you to filter out the bad stuff. I need to know people won’t throw tomatoes at me when I come out there with you.”

She nods, unlocking your phone and heads to the app. There’s a smile on her face as she scrolls, blue eyes wide.

“Y/N L/N is trending. Along with the tags Eren Jaeger, Ryomen Sukuna, Revenge Dress, and Ryomen Sukuna can you fight?”

You snort, cheeks warm.

“Anything bad?”

“No. It’s all about how hot you and Sukuna are. They’re going feral for the tattoo kiss. And-and talking about how pissed Eren and Hyla look today. Eren especially, apparently he didn’t even do the entire carpet?”

“Good.”

She shuts your phone off and hands it back, wrapping her arms around yours as you give her your best smile.

“We still have five minutes. I just don’t want to go out there. Your doppelganger is freaking me the fuck out.” she whispers, earning a laugh from you.

“Imagine being me. She put on the beach outfit and a shiver went down my spine. It’s one thing to look like me but it’s even worse when she’s literally wearing my clothes.”

“Danny and Sareen are insane for the tattoo decal. It looks just like yours.”

You nod, facing the mirror as you rub your hands against the ink, the sight of it making your stomach turn. And something twinge in your chest for that memory, of those glittering awards, of performing next to Eren, only for him to be whispering in your ear as you got the ink.

The two of you walk out as you take your spots on the stage, waiting for Historia to rise onto the stage first. And you thank the gods that Danny and Sareen pulled strings to make sure that Eren had a front row seat.

The waiters move around the rows with trays, drinks rimmed with crystals on the edge and bright blue liquid in them being passed out. Lana excitedly reaches for two, nearly shivering in excitement in her seat.

“Lana.”

“It’s my night off, Eren. Don’t be a buzzkill. And god knows we can’t do this sober.” she murmurs, eyeing Myka and Hyla at the sides, phones up in the air as they optimize their angles.

“Well, at least share them.” he responds, taking the second glass and letting the liquid burn his throat as it goes down.

The lights dim as he leans back into his chair, Gojo and Geto taking to the stage to open the awards shows. The cameras all around are suddenly whirring, their loud voices booming through the speakers.

“Who's doing the ensemble?” Lana asks, slurping through her drink.

“Jujutsu Kaisen.”

She nods, eyes focused on the stage revolving as they set up for Historia’s performance.

“Why did you guys never do one for Attack on Titan?”

“Levi and Hange got offered it for Season Three, but they want to save it for Season Four and the finale. Let’s see if we even make it there in one piece.”

They both quiet down as Historia rises to the stage, for the opening performance, in a glittering outfit as she starts singing. Eren’s half focused on the show - mind running elsewhere as he scans the room from his vantage point to find where you were. To indiscreetly ogle you, in your pretty black dress. But the seat next to Sukuna is filled by Yuuji as he looks around the room for you.

To grant himself the small joys in life. Catching the ends of your smile.

Now I'm a homewrecker, I'm a slut I got death threats filling up semi-trucks Tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked I'm a hot topic on your tongue I'm a rebound gettin' 'round stealin' from the young Tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked a boy

Myka and Hyla snicker at his sides at the line, tears falling out of their eyes at the line.

“Because I liked a boy?” Hyla repeats.

“What now?” he murmurs.

“Like that’s going to convince people she’s not a lesbian.” Myka states.

Lana, clearly well past her tolerance after not drinking for so long, takes her drink and splashes it into Myka’s face, earning a good amount of protest as she runs off, Historia singing on the stage.

“Okay, Lana. Let’s not end up on the front page of WBS today.”

“What? She was pissing me off.”

“Check yourself, Lana.”

She rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair to keep watching the performance.

“Who called Historia a homewrecker?” Lana asks.

“I mean. I’m sure someone must have at some point. Do they need a reason to say what they do about her? ”

Lana shrugs as Eren watches Historia slide to the side, as you rise up on the platform, the microphone fixed in your hand as you sing.

So that’s where you were.

The crowd erupts into cheers as you strut into the middle of the stage, at you and Historia together again hand in hand, as you reiterate the chorus for a second time. With your eyes, razor focused on him and Hyla. He can feel the cameras moving to the two of them, trying his best to contain his shock.

Now I'm a homewrecker, I'm a slut I got death threats filling up semi-trucks Tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked a boy

Eren swallows hard. And then the music cuts out as you and Historia scutter out to the edges of the stage and the middle stage rises. Clearly a scene set up to look like a beach, there’s two people seated on the blanket in the middle, hands linked together.

“Oh my fucking god. Eren.” Lana says, hand squeezing his.

“What?”

“It’s you. You and Y/N. On the beach.”

He refocuses his eyes to the two people on the stage and feels his cheeks burning when he realizes. The girl on the left is one he knows all too well. It’s the girl Hyla picked to impersonate you during the Girlfriend skit. And the one on the left - a guy with short hair, green eyes, and the exact jacket he was wearing that night.

“Do you still belong to me? Are you still mine?” the guy repeats, his voice sounding wimpy.

“We shouldn’t. We can’t.”

“Don’t make me beg. You’re the only thing that’s mine.”

Eren feels the chill run down his spine. At the scene, the memory burning in his mind, as he rewatches it on stage. And everyone else gets to dig into it too, the way Hyla did when she found out.

The guitar, the tattoos on their arms, the fact that it’s the same dress from that night, the same outfit he was wearing down to the details.

He can’t even be mad. He deserves this one.The music starts up again and you walk out again, singing again.

When everything went down, we'd already broken up Please tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked a boy Ah (A boy) Ah (A boy) Ah All because I liked a boy

You give him a satisfying smirk, reveling in the shocked look on his face and his pink cheeks, as you wrap your hand in Historia’s, the two of you lifting them together in the air as they all start chanting your names back to you.

“Can I talk to you guys?”

Geto and Gojo look up from the cards they’re shuffling in their hands and give you a nod as they set the cues down, hands on your shoulders as they lead you to the other side of the stage.

“I never got to thank you. For letting me take over your ensemble showcase. I know you guys are really proud of this show and the entire cast and I appreciate you letting me use the time.”

Gojo smiles, giving your shoulder a harsh squeeze as he brushes it away.

“We love drama. And you’re part of our cast now too. Even though we’re basically giving you the Junpei treatment.”

You give the two of them a smile.

“I actually appreciate it, though. This-this is important for me and you’re kind enough to support me.”

“Sukuna gave us a very convincing talk. About you, your character - about what a big deal it was to you to take your name back like this. We all but had to listen. And power to you for how you’re doing it.” Geto responds, giving you a smile.

“Sure you don’t like him? At least if he calls you a whore in public it won’t come out of nowhere. He’d definitely say it to your face first!” Gojo says, laughing. Geto glares and immediately smacks him in the stomach.

“Ignore him. He was raised in a barn. By wolves.” Geto responds, definitively. They both walk away with smiles on their faces, talking in hushed tones as they head towards the stage.

You readjust the ends of the beaded dress as you give yourself one last look in the mirror, hands nervously itching with the thought of the performance ahead of you in your mind.

“Need help?” Marco asks, gesturing to your shoes.

“Yeah, thanks.” you respond and he gives you a non-committal nod.

You slip the garter belt over your knee before dipping your legs into the boots, Marco’s hands quick to steady you from behind the second you waver in the air. You give him a grateful smile through the mirror before turning around, hands firm on his arms as you talk.

“I-I really appreciate you, Marco. I know you wanted to stay neutral with all the stuff that happened so I know that this is a big deal that you’re doing this for me.” you say.

“I’m on your side. But you know, his too. We-we all grew up together and I just think if we all talked about everything we- ”

“Did you try to talk to him?” you ask.

You know the answer. Eren didn’t even bother to pick up his phone.

“Yeah, but-”

“Marco. I think we all know he’s long gone. He-he’s not our Eren anymore.”

“We haven’t even had a chance to talk this through yet.” Marco responds, voice soft as he gathers your hair before placing it flat against your shoulders.

“Can’t talk to someone who doesn’t want to talk to you first, Marco. You can’t help people who don’t want to be helped.”

“I just feel like I could have tried harder. This couldn’t have come out of nowhere.”

You place your hands on his shoulders and squeeze hard.

“It’s not your fault. He was always going to be like this, nothing you could do would stop him.”

He nods, halfheartedly, as the group of them all whistle as you walk out - the entire cast of Attack on Titan and Jujutsu Kaisen - on the side of the stage.

“You look sexy, Y/N.”

“Stop it, Mikasa. You’re making me blush.” you respond, giving her a wink.

“Yeah. Stop it, Mikasa.” Jean grumbles, giving you an irritated smile.

“She’s going to steal your girl.” Yuuji states, giving Jean an elbow to the side.

“Not if I do it first.” Nobara says, giving you a big gleeful smile as she places a kiss to your cheek.

You smile at them as you take your little spot on the cue, giving them all a thumbs up that they all return. And rise to the stage, for the second time, to end Eren Jaeger’s career.

For the second time this night, Eren’s looking for you in the crowded room and finding you in the last place he wants to see you. On the stage, singing with that venomous look in your eyes.

“Wait. Is she in Jujutsu Kaisen?” Myka asks, leaning over Lana whose cheeks are bright pink from the way she’s been downing the drinks every time they pass.

“She must be if she’s in the fucking ensemble performance.”

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time I got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!

Your outfit, following the trend of almost everything you wore tonight, has the hole burning into Eren’s stomach. And that look that you’re giving, that you’re directing towards him as you stare into his eyes, has his cheeks burning with embarrassment and shame.

That and the fact that you’ve been walking his look alike on the stage like a dog. And made references to every hurt piece of him that he’s shared with you. His strained relationship with his brother, the fact that he was all but mediocre in the acting industry with only three awards to his name, and that he vomited when he kissed Hyla on that yacht in front of the entire world on stage.

You’re coming for blood. He’s getting drained of it.

He spots Lana to his left scrolling on her phone between the seats, eyebrows pushed together in frustration.

“Is it that bad?” he asks.

“Not good, Eren. They hate you. Love her. Everything in between.”

“More proof, right?” Eren asks.

“You bet.” she responds

The world moves on, another day another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours

And each consecutive image you put on stage gets worse, only twisting in Eren’s mind in how he’s going to swirl his way out of this one. Identical, plastic models sniffing up lies of cocaine - clearly meant to be Hyla and her friends. His doppelganger, this time, very literally sucking the dick of fame. And the worst of all, the bridge.

You stand in the center, the music slowing down as you rise into the air, above the crowd of people. And suddenly the light shines bright on them - on the cast of Attack on Titan and Jujutsu Kaisen - trying to crawl to the top of the pedestal you’re standing on. Showing that you’re above them all, exactly like he said you were.

And what’s worse? The first person you kick off is Historia.

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

“I don’t get it. Why did she just kick Historia off?” Myka asks.

“I think you should lay off the crack. It’s really degenerating your neurons in there. You already had so little to work with.” Lana says, placing her hands flat against Myka’s cheeks as she aggressively shakes her head.

“That’s what Eren said in his interview. That Y/N would do anything, to get to the top of the pedestal. Use people to help her just to kick them off. It’s smart.” Hyla states, swirling the straw in her glass between her fingers.

You lay against your seat, Reiner’s hands on your shoulders massaging into the taut skin as the anxiety builds of your last performance, of your closing act of the night. You’ve successfully tangled your way through the two you had before - virtually similar to your pop songs, but a little bit more aggressive. But the third. The entire nature of it - so unfamiliar, so unlike anything you’ve ever done that it has the waves of panic building in your stomach.

“What’s the next award? It’s the last one, right?” you ask.

“Best Actor.” Historia responds, tangling her ankle with yours under the chair.

Levi and Hange walk out onto the stage, hands pressed together as they give each other sweet smiles, and the gold envelope glitters in their hand.

“Fuck. He won, didn’t he?” you ask.

“Huh? Why do you say that?”

“Levi and Hange are presenting. That-that means Eren won.” you respond, Jean giving a deep heavied sigh as you all focus your eyes back up to Levi and Hange on the stage.

They’re readjusting the microphones as they clear their throats, voices booming through the speakers of the auditorium.

“The fact that we’re standing here is proof enough that a very talented actor has won one of the most coveted awards tonight.” Hange says, a wide smile spread across their face.

You give Jean a smug smirk.

“We won’t be mincing our words. This kid has been special to us since he was fifteen and while we commend all the other actors in this category, we’d like to take our time to comment on how far he’s come. We’ve had the privilege of seeing him from the start, how far he’s grown to where he is now.”

“Eren. You’ve always been our sweet boy, straight from the start. So determined, so ambitious in what you wanted to do. Many people were quick to write you off as a straight off the bat from the work of your parents and your brother that came before you but…..your zest, your genuine want to be seen in your art has always stood out to us. We truly commend your dedication to your art, one you’ve possessed since you were younger than half of the idiots in our industry.” Hange says.

“I’ve pushed you around kid. Farther than anyone else but only because you’re the one who could handle it. I know that you’re one to take what’s thrown at you and push it forward, to make your way out of it to do something great. I’ve never said it to you often, but I hope you know that we’re immensely proud of you.” Levi says, warm tears filling his eyes.

“Read the card, Levi. Poor kid has been itching to have his hands on one of these for seven years now.”

Levi smiles, even wider when he reads the name on the card and leans into the microphone.

“The award for Actor in a Best TV Series goes to Eren Jaeger.”

The crowd erupts into cheers as everyone stands, the lot of you included, as you all crane your necks towards Eren, who's stuck in his seat as Lana shakes his arm at his side, excitedly jumping up and down next to him. Eren gives her a nod as she pulls him up, wrapping his arms around her before walking straight onto the stage, the look on his face solemn as Levi and Hange wrap his arms around him next, pressing kisses to the sides of his cheeks as they hand him the award.

The worst part? All you want to do is be by his side. Congratulating him on the first thing he told you in confidence, the one you’ve both held over your heads for years.

Eren sighs as he looks down at the award, tears spilling out of his eyes as he looks back up at the crowd, eyes landing on yours. You swallow hard as he looks at you, for too long, before walking straight off the stage.

Without making a speech.

Levi and Hange are quick to follow, confused looks on their faces as they rush after him. Gojo and Geto are pushed onto the stage as they push send to commercial, the ushers at the side quick to lift you up and lead you back stage, for your performance - earlier than you expected.

When you get backstage, Eren’s crying real tears - and arguing with Levi and Hange this time.

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” he screams, shoving Levi off to the side as he attempts to storm off, Hange and Levi catching the ends of his sleeve before he can.

“Eren. Just calm down. We’ll help you. The moves you’re making are smart if you’ll follow them through and-”

“No, Hange! Fuck this. I-I can’t do this. Do you know how humiliating this entire night has been for me? To have every fucking thing I’ve done thrown in my face just to win this now?”

That’s your last straw.

You tap on his shoulder and when he turns your way, you slap him straight across the face. He brings his hand up to his cheek, rubbing the pink spot as you feel your blood burn under your skin.

“Are you fucking serious, Eren?”

“What?’ he responds, shock apparent in his voice.

“You got what you fucking wanted. You got the award you’ve been dreaming about. And-and you’re throwing a bitch fit back here about it?”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, Y/N.” he responds, murmuring under his voice as he makes the move to walk away, Levi and Hange opening their arms for him to move.

“What don’t I understand? Make it make sense to me because it’s pretty fucking clear. You have everything you want and you’re still not fucking happy, are you?”

“Is this what you think I want, Y/N? Do you think I enjoy you yelling at me? Do you think I like Hange and Levi being disappointed in me or even care about this fucking plastic in hand?” he spits, face a few feet from yours as he clenches his hands around the trophy, before dropping it onto the floor and letting it crack.

“God. How many times are you going to keep breaking shit without any care in the world? The camera, the fucking award you picked over me, Connie’s fucking livelihood, my heart. All you’ve ever cared about is yourself. From the start.”

“Y/N. That’s enough.” Levi says, tone firm.

“No. No, he has some fucking audacity saying the things he did to me. That I’m not famous enough for you? Think long and hard, Eren. You’ve had every fucking card stacked in your favor - famous parents, real talent, two people who have fucking mentored you through the entire thing. The entire thing and you still couldn’t get this award until now. Where the hell do you get off telling me all that? I’m better than you. I’ve always been better than you.”

Eren sighs, taking a deep breath as he turns back to face you.

“You’re an asshole, Eren. Zeke stopped fucking talking to you, there’s a reason why everyone sided with me and not you and maybe it’s because you’re the fucking problem.”

“Y/N.” Hange states, tone warning again.

“You’re impossible, Eren. Who-who the fuck plays games with people like that? I-I fucking adored you, Eren. You were my entire world. Hell, you still fucking are. And the fact that you knew that, that you let me get that involved with you when you had no intention of seeing any of it through, of knowing me and loving me. You’re horrible.” you spit out, voice cracking as the tears spill out of your eyes.

Eren takes a deep breath before walking, stopping short of the curtain, the grand piano sitting in the middle of the stage. And he turns back, the look on his face so pained when he talks again.

“You want to know how I know our love wasn’t real, Y/N?” Eren asks, voice strained in his throat.

“Please. I’d love to hear it.”

“I had my suspicions. That you ended things with me because your team wanted you to end things with Ricky James. People had been whispering it in my ears for days. For months, that I wasn’t good enough for you. But I pushed past that, because I know you. I knew that you loved me. You released London Boy and my first instinct was to not believe it. You started dating him and I still thought it was fake. You filmed movies with Sukuna and did god knows what for all of it. I had faith that you loved me. You convinced me that you had faith in me.”

You swallow hard, bile burning down your throat.

“Our love wasn’t real because you never extended that grace to me. You didn’t have any faith in me like I did in you.” Eren responds, pushing past you as he walks off.

You watch him walk off as Danny and Sareen hold your outfit for your last performance in the air, the flowy purple dress for your last song, You wipe your tears, head reeling, as they all but push you into the room, doing the motions for you as Eren’s words ring in your ears. And suddenly you’re on the stage, sitting on the piano bench, a few feet away from Eren - eyes rimmed pink as Lana rubs circles into his back.

You place your hands on the keys, the tears still streaming down your face as you start playing the piano. And the second you start playing, you look to your right to see Eren’s head in his knees, sobs racking out of his chest, as you start to sing the song, fighting back your own.

And I try to be tough, but I wanna scream How could anybody do the things you did so easily? And I say I don't care, I say that I'm fine But you know I can't let it go, I've tried, I've tried, I've tried for so long It takes strength to forgive, but I don't feel strong

All you can think of is Eren hovering over your shoulders, hands resting on top of yours as he moves your fingers, his silent cheers whenever you played the chords on your own. You fight the shake in your hands as you sing on.

Ooh, do you think I deserved it all? Ooh, your flowers filled with vitriol You built me up to watch me fall You have everything, and you still want more

You shakily stop, piano pausing as you reach foward to wipe the tears on your face, granting you cheers from the crowd. Before you place your hands on the keys for the last time, finishing off your nightmare.

It takes strength to forgive, but I don't feel strong I try to be tough, I try to be mean But even after all this, you're still everything to me And I know you don't care, I guess that that's fine But you know I can't let it go, I've tried, I've tried, I've tried for so long It takes strength to forgive, but I'm not quite sure I'm there yet It takes strength to forgive, but

You finish as you look to the crowd, all of them standing in the air as you stand up from the bench, knees all but ready to buckle as they give you a standing ovation. And instead of Gojo and Geto walking out, to close out the show the way you rehearsed, Levi and Hange are standing on the stage again, solemn looks on their faces as they hold a golden envelope in their hands.

You choke out your sob.

No.

This is not how you’re going to get this.

“We’re back for-for something that’s been long overdue.” Hange says, hands shaking as they face towards you, wiping the tears off of your face as the despair sinks in.

“Y/N. You’ve always been talented from the start. You’ve always been humble, down to Earth, and kind in a way that many people in our industry haven’t seen. It’s why we think you were such a fan favorite during the early years of Attack on Titan - you had extended grace and humanity to kids who were all but robbed of it from living in the spotlight since the second they were born.” Levi says, tone hollow as he talks.

“And beyond upstanding character, a genuine love for those around you, your willingness to push yourself, to make yourself better through all facets of your art has always been admirable. You've always been ambitious but brave and kind despite it all. We’re immensely proud of you, kid.” Hange says.

Levi opens the envelope, reading off as the crowd erupts into cheers.

“Y/N L/N has been on our radar for her work since the second we caught our first sight of her. It was only appropriate that she won for the best of her works, hence the perceived delay in the commendation of this award. For her acting work - in the infamous “Thank You” scene of Attack on Titan, for her poise fully skilled dances on her Ribbons tour, and her mastery of the piano in her song the grudge, the Institute is happy to induct you into one of our most timeless awards - the triple threat.” Levi reads off, the crowd only getting louder as they both come to your sides, hands warm and hard on your shoulders as every part of your body aches in their arms and the cheers burn your ears.

You follow Eren’s suit. And make no speech as you storm off the stage.

You can feel your chest heaving up and down as you crouch to the ground, knees hiked to your chest as you push your head into your lap, tears staining the fabric of your dress. The air in your nose is bearing, eyes searing red as Levi and Hange are at your sides, rubbing into your skin as they whisper words that barely make it to your ears.

You look up to find a crowd of people - Historia, Jean, Mikasa, and Marco - walking up to excitedly push you into hugs and press kisses to your cheeks as you feel your body get tangled in the crowd, your emotions, your mind entirely elsewhere.

“God, Y/N. You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” Danny says, wrapping his arms around you as Sareen presses a kiss to your cheek.

“So we’re thinking. You should do a residency tour. Maybe we can call it “the grudge” so you can perform that song at the end of each night. And people will love it since you used to always end the tours with New Year’s Day but now it’ll be this gut wrenching song you wrote about Eren.”

“Sorry, what?” you croak out.

“We’ll hit the big cities. Only the United States, fifteen nights in each. Then you can do your triple threat interview and performance at the next award show.” Danny states, already scrolling through the logistics on your phone.

You sigh.

“You’re fired.”

“Huh?” they both say, laughing as they lean over to look at the phone.

“You’re fired. Both of you.”

“You can’t be serious, can you?”

“Dead.” you respond, glaring into their eyes.

“We’ll talk to you when you’re thinking clearly.” Sareen states.

“No. No, you’re not going to talk to me at all. I”m-I’m done with you guys. You said I would get to stop running if I fucking did this.” you respond.

“Oh, sweetheart. Surely you know we weren’t serious?” Sareen says, a shocked look on her face.

You shove past them and the entire group of people as you move towards your little room in the back, locking the door and barricading your vanity against it. And you let the cries reach you, the air suffocate you you, the words, the cheers, the last seven years ring in your mind till you’ve cried out every last fiber of your being.

His words ring in your mind. On the very first night, when you got tangled up in this in the first place.

“You’re next level. When your dream comes true, I’ll be right beside you. Telling you that I told you so.” Eren says.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, Y/N. We’re best friends. It’s you and me till the end. We’ll be laughing about this when it happens to us.”

You cry until you can’t anymore. And mourn that the one part of your dream you always wanted - Eren standing next to you telling you he told you so - was the one part you didn’t get to have.

an: guys isn't it so sweet!!! their dreams came true :DD

next part linked here

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636

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colateral-damages · 25 days

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redrew the actor thing for eren’s birthday ^_^ stanky

edit: I DIDNT ADD GHE 2ND PICTURE SOMEHOW 😭?

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lewajek · 9 months

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Actor AU sketch comp so far (or celebrity AU!)

#attack on titan #aot #erwin smith #levi ackerman #eruri #snk #Actor AU #aot actor au #celebrity au #alternate universe

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happybird16 · 6 months

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It was Actor!Levi's idea to have his character handing out candy to children at the end. The original script had him reading from a newspaper -but that didn't feel right to him. Levi at a core is a character who cares deeply for others, who wants to do anything he can to help ease their suffering.

It makes so much more sense for him to end the series surrounded by traumatized and war-torn children, handing out sweets to help bring them a small bit of joy. He's not physically capable of doing much else anymore, he can't help the others plant trees or rebuild, but helping those kids is just as significant.

#actor!levi #actor au #aot actor au #aot spoilers #attack on titan spoilers #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk

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the-traveling-poet · 23 days

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Coffee Shop

The day had finally arrived; in which you would meet your idol for a late lunch at a local cafè. And what a head rush just the idea of such a thing gave you.

Amidst the not so subtle interrogation and polite pleasantries passed back and forth between the two of you over tea, the spark that had started this whole ordeal grew into that of a flame.

A flame he seemed to take and run with…

Pairing: Actor!Levi x Fan!reader

Warnings: modern!au, language, fluff

Taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe @pelicanpizza (if you’d like added to the taglist for Levi Fic updates, just DM me!)

A/N: The long (somewhat maybe?) awaited pt. 3, finally posted!

I took much, much longer in completing this than I wanted to. But life happens; losses, injuries, illnesses, grievances…the list goes on. But since my motivation came back, I’ve returned to my most passionate hobby; writing Levi fanfiction. I would have finished this sooner but the added feature of the BOOP got me distracted for a full 24hrs lmao.

In this fic, I added in my own mix of hc’s for the sake of modern!au, and Levi’s a little OOC but…It’s a modern AU and I can do what I want :p

So without further ado, enjoy!~

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

The day had come….

Steeling your nerves, you took in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. The door stood closed before you, and only a gentle tug would open it up to the cafè inside; yet you paused with your hand hovering over the silver handle.

You’d already peered through the shop’s windows to see if he was here yet, and concluded he wasn’t. And with the lack of some shiny, expensive looking car parked near the curb out front, you figured you’d beat him here. You were early, after all. So why couldn’t you just make yourself go in and have a seat?

Relax, you thought to yourself as you finally grasped the handle in the palm of your hand. You’ve gotten this far already, you can’t mess this up…

Walking into the rather aesthetic looking cafè, you looked around with bated breath. The cafè was small, but very pleasing to the eye; menu boards written in cursive print above polished countertops, floors spotless and organized, windows without a single speck upon them.

Even the scarce customers sat strewn about the tables seemed poised and of a higher class than you were used to seeing on a daily basis.

Suddenly, you felt just a tad under dressed.

Shaking the thoughts away, your eyes continued to study the room around you, until you were met with the steady gaze of a man sat a table at the back wall of the cafè. And oh, how those silver eyes always managed to captivate your entire attention; in person even more so than from through a screen.

Stiffening your posture where you stood, you shook yourself out of your daze with a mental slap in the face.

“Shit…” you whispered, shuffling your feet forward to approach his table. Of course he would be early and beat you…to being early.

Once you stood only a foot away from his table, Levi took a stand. After subtly looking you up and down, he reached out and pushed back the chair opposite him and gave you room to take a seat, after silently motioning to hang your coat up on the back of your chair for you.

With a whispered thank you, you shrugged off your coat and let him place it on the back of your chair before scooting you forward and then returning to his own seat.

“You’re early,” you blurted out after he sat, still in a bit of a daze.

“I’m always early; though, I’m surprised to see you’re twenty minutes early. I’m impressed.” He commented softly, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on your ever shifting eyes.

Once you managed to hold eye contact with him, you noticed the worn leather jacket hanging off the back of his chair, contrasting the grey turtleneck shirt he wore. The look was quite dashing on him, and you had to refrain yourself from blurting out this observation.

“You’re extra early,” you pointed out, taking a moment to look out the window to your right.

“I didn’t see any overly expensive cars outside, so I had assumed I’d beaten you here.”

“I always am. And, didn’t drive my car,” he answered plainly as he too looked out the window. Before you could ask, he was already pointing to a sight just near the curb. Perched on its stand near the window was a bike; sleek black and shining in the dull spring sunlight.

“That’s the bike you drive?” You nearly gasped, ogling over the bike. Sure, you’d learned enough about him from your obsessive research to know he rode. But never once had you seen the actual bike he owned.

“No, stole it from a man a couple blocks back.” Levi scoffed, but not aggressively so. When you looked back over at him, he seemed more curious than sarcastic when he looked over at you from the corner of his eye as he continued to face the window.

“Though, I never told you I rode.”

Realizing you’d soon be found out about your obsession into his personal life, you decided to downplay the fact you knew with an absent smile.

“Oh…well, you mentioned it once or twice in interviews. I’d never seen the bike itself, though.”

“I seldom post to my socials, unless one of the guys naggs me to,” he shrugged, picking up a menu off the table previously stacked by the rack of simple condiments lining a thin rack at one edge of the table.

“You seem more informed about me than I had assumed you’d be. Are you one of those fans who obsessed over and took to heart every interview and discarded show clip they can get their hands on?”

Gulping down you nerves, you hastily waved your hand in a dismissive manner.

“Oh pftt, no. I just…liked the show a lot, and had some free time to binge its content.”

He regarded you with a deadpan expression, as though not fully buying your half truth. But after raising a brow, he seemed content to let the matter sit.

“Well, either way, it’s nice to be out of the spotlight for a bit and unwind. I’m still surprised with myself that I gave my number out to a fan, but…I can’t say I regret it after this past week. You’re entertaining.”

“Is…is that a compliment? Or should I take offense to being generalized?” You smiled, also picking up a menu to look through.

“Which would you prefer?” He hummed, already seeming to have decided what he wanted, as he folded his menu back up and set it aside.

“I’ll take it as a compliment. A compliment from my favorite actor seems nice,” you hummed, beginning to loosen up a little more now that conversation had moved along.

Levi only hummed thoughtfully, peering over the top of your menu to see your crinkled eyes as you scanned along the cursive print. Unbeknownst to you, he made sure.

By the time you decided and set the menu aside, a waitress came along to jot down your orders. Listing off the tea and pastry you desired, you glanced back at Levi, who had yet to speak.

“I’ll take the black tea. No sweeteners, please. Thank you,” he said softly, briefly looking up at the waitress with a nod.

The waitress sent him a dazzling smile, loitering by the table a moment longer than was needed, before scurrying off towards the kitchens behind the front counter. With a snort, Levi resumed his attention towards you.

“I have a funny feeling there’s not much about me you don’t know. Am I right? You seem the type to do your research.”

He murmured, propping his chin onto his hand as he leaned ever so slightly closer across the table towards you, with his elbow supporting him on the table top.

Blushing, you opted to stare down at the napkin holder to your right.

“That-that may not be true-“

“How old am I?” He interrupted, with a brow ever so slightly raised in amusement.

“Twenty five…but that’s common knowledge to anyone who has access to Wikipedia.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as you defended yourself.

“I suppose so. That was a silly thing to ask…alright then, I’ll test you further; what was my favorite shoot?”

“The ‘Royal Government arc’,” you answered immediately. Too fast, you realized, only a moment too late.

“Alright then, something not related to the show…What’s my cat’s name?”

“Eros,” you sighed, already knowing you’d lost. “But to be fair, you’ve brought up your cat numerous times in interviews-“

“Keep digging sweetheart, you’re just burying yourself further here,” he hummed, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Alright, alright…So I may have gotten a little obsessed.” You murmured, feeling your cheeks burn a tad hotter than before as you finally admitted to his claims.

“To the show, or my character? Better yet, perhaps me?” He lifted his elbow off of the table and leaned back in his chair with crossed arms. And for a moment, you could have sworn he was teasing you. It worked in flustering you, if that had been his angle. But before you could finish stuttering out a response to his cocky claims, he flashed a minuet smile your way.

“I suppose you do know quite a lot about me, so I’ll ask my own questions. Ones I didn’t ask over the phone already.” He stated calmly as his boot nudged your foot under the table.

Ceasing your poor attempt to stutter out any form of defense, you nodded with an embarrassed sigh.

"Alright, that sounds fair." You murmured, mentally bracing yourself for any kind of question he might throw your way.

Seeing your compliance, he started firing off his own questions.

It nearly felt like an interrogation; like last weeks interview role’s had been switched on you. Only, he wasn’t so shy in asking what he pleased.

Your place of employment, your college major, your pastimes, family, social life. Hell, he even asked for your favorite arcs in the show and which of the scenes he starred in you liked the most.

By the end of it, you’d relaxed significantly and opened up more than you had expected to. And in turn, he became a tad more expressive himself.

“Ever rode a bike?” He asked after finishing his cup of tea, with his unoccupied arm resting over the back of his chair as he raised a brow. His sudden curiosity threw you off a bit.

After calming down from a fit of giggles from his previous question, you raised a brow his way.

“No, I cant say I have.”

With a tilt of his head he regarded you curiously, as though coming to a a silent decision with himself. After a brief span of silence he sighed and placed his hands in his lap.

“Well…Perhaps I could make an exception and allow you to ride with me. I could use a backpack.”

“An exception? To what rule?” Furrowing your brows, you regarded him curiously.

A backpack? What rules?

Hiding his slight smirk with a tilt of his head, he replied; “The rule I have against anyone touching my bike. I’d hate for it to get dirtied or scratched, but I’m sure you’ll be carful.”

“You’re asking me if I’d like a ride?” You murmured, suddenly feeling as allert as you had the moment you wanking into the cafè. With a nod, he confirmed your suspicions.

“On your bike?” You asked, incredulously.

“Unless there’s something else of mine you’d like to ride?” He replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Though after just a moment, he cleared his throat and looked away.

“I’m sorry, that was a bit…abrasive.”

“No! I-Id love to!” You grinned, unable to help but stare once more out the window towards his bike as you discreetly hid your blush.

“I’d be down for any kind of ride.”

Now it was his turn to appear surprised and maybe a tad flustered, for the first time this afternoon. He opened his mouth, then abruptly closed it; eyes darting about the table between you. Suddenly, two feet of table never felt so far of a distance before.

With a grunt he stood, taking his jacket in hand as he reached into his left pocket.

“Well then, unless you have plans this afternoon…My bike and I are free.”

Biting at your lip, you also stood.

“No, I’m free. If…If you’re offering.”

“I was under the impression I was doing more than that?” He grumbled back in responce as he fumbled out his wallet. Catching his movement, you went to do the same. That is, until his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist at your waist to stop you.

“Ah ah, I proposed this meet up. The least I could do is pay.” He scoffed, a click of his tongue to follow. Though you attempted to disagree, he placed your hand holding your wallet back into your back pocket; much to your stunned surprise.

“I’ve got it,” he whispered, placing down a check on the table top. Only seconds later, you found yourself standing outside near the curb, watching him mount his bike. And oh, what a sight that was.

Unexpectedly he pulled out a secondary helmet, similar in appearance to his own. Taking is hesitantly, you fumbled with the chin straps as you took a step closer to the bike as it roared to life.

“You just carry around a second helmet?” You questioned uncertainly as he reached out his hand to you.

“No…Stopped by a store before arriving here,” He mumbled, his voice becoming more muffled as he adjusted his own helmet. Swallowing down your growing nerves and hiding a grin behind the helmet, you allowed his hand to guide you into the spot just behind him.

Suddenly, he revved the engine, causing you to startle, only slightly. One look around the smaller bike showed you there were no handle bars to hold onto, causing your eyes to flick to his expectantly.

Oh shit…

“Well? Hold on, else you’ll go flying off the back.” He rolled his eyes before pulling down the visor of his helmet and slipping on a pair of leather gloves. Doing the same, you gave a nervous nod.

Hesitantly you reached out, your arms barely grazing his sides as color filled out your cheeks. With the noise of the bike revving, you missed the way he groaned to himself.

“Fuck’s sake…”

Suddenly the bike jolted forward, sending you crashing forward into his back with a muffled gasp of shock.

Behind the tinted visor, Levi allowed himself a smirk and a satisfied hum, as he used one of his gloved hands to hold yours into place at his abdomen.

“Like I said; hold on, stubborn brat,” he called out, barely turning his head to see you. Though you couldn’t make out every feature of his face through the shield, you gave a shaky chuckle and nodded back; tightening your grip around his middle. He was quick to look away, before fumbling with the kickstand and shifted gears a second time.

As he skillfully merged into the lane, you raised your chin up just slightly over his shoulder.

“Where are we going?” You called over the wind as it gradually picked up speed.

“I figured around a couple blocks; unless you have another idea?” He called back, still able to hear you surprisingly well.

You thought on this a moment, before an idea struck you. Humorously, you called back.

“Well, unless you have another photoshoot this evening, there is a nice city park a few blocks up.”

You never heard a response from him, until he pulled you both up pulled to a stop light. He raised the visor of his helmet after putting down his kickstand once more and raised a brow over his shoulder towards you.

“A park, huh? I can do that…but I’m taking the longer route.”

“The longer route?” You questioned uncertainly.

“The highway, yes. Wouldn’t you like for first ride to be memorable?” His eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke.

“So long as you don’t kill us,” came your mumbled responce. Yet he seemed to hear it, as he only rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you fret, princess. I wouldn’t let my first ever passenger fall off or become injured. Cant let our first date become our last.”

“First date?”

He merely chuckled at your sudden squeak as he turned to face you better.

“Unless you’d rather not call it that. Would you rather this be considered a VIP backstage pass?”

Your heart twisted and flipped pleasantly in your chest as you quickly lowered the visor of your helmet once more to hide the expression of bewilderment on your face.

“You’d go on a date with a fan?” You managed to croak out just as the light turned green.

Tugging down his own visor once more and lifting the stand, he hummed thoughtfully before reviving the bike.

“I gave my number to one, didn’t I?”

Holding your hand tight to his chest, he used his free hand to push forward, rushing through traffic as you gradually increased speeds. All the while his hand stayed on top of yours, until the need to pull away became undismissible.

And you didn’t dare to let go. Not now, nor ever. Especially if he was promising a second date…

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