#suz.writes.

He had been neglecting you, work piling up from the day before, and the day before that...and the day before that. Endless paperwork, endless new clients. It was a good sign he supposed, business was doing well, so well that he had to bring on more staff, staff that then needed to be vetted, trained, ensuring his vision for the company would be upheld at every level. As was his way, the secret to his success.

But this takes time, and while you understood, it had been far too long since you've seen more than an hour of your husband, far too long since you've said more than a groggy "welcome home baby" and felt more than his soft kiss on the forehead as you drifted off.

Erwin knew he was needed, knew you loved him more than anything, but didn't quite realize the gravity of his absence until now. A surprise visit home, his meetings moved to the next day because come hell or high water, he was going to spend your wedding anniversary spoiling you silly.

Your frustrated groan led his brows to furrow, rushing to the master bedroom in case you were in need of some help. Turns out, you were.

Your head was thrown back on the pillow, one hand tugging and pulling at your bare breasts, nipples pebbling in the cool air. Your favourite little bullet vibrator was pressed to your slit, but by your whines, you were far, far off from getting off.

He swallows thickly, cock straining in his now uncomfortably tight trousers. He goes to remove his belt, the jangle of the buckle making you lift your head. Instead of any surprise or guilt, all he saw in your eyes was desperation.

"Please" you were begging, eyes glassy, fingertips shaking as they reached for him, legs spreading wider, strings of your arousal snapping against your thighs. "Please Erwin"

"How long?" he asks, taking his time to undress, fingers going impossibly slow as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, removing cuff links, the ones you had gotten him years ago.

A couple blinks of your bleary eyes, watching your husband strip. Layer by layer, article by article until only the buzzing of the now forgotten vibrator brought your focus back on him, confusion swimming in your eyes as he repeats his question.

"How long," Erwin asks again, finally bare before you, and you swallow, watching as his cock bobs against his stomach, already an angry red, so impossibly hard you could see every vein. "How long have you been trying, and failing to cum without me?"

He takes a grip of your legs, and you react automatically, wrapping and locking your ankles behind his waist, tugging him closer to your leaking slit with a whine. He bumps the head of his cock against you, pressing right at your swollen clit, so sensitive from your earlier attempts.

"How long baby?" he asks again, a small roll of his hips making you squeal and wiggle, trying to get more of that delicious friction you needed.

"Ho-hour!" you managed, fixing your eyes back on him, wide and watery, begging, wanting. "Please," you beg again, "please help. Can’t…can’t without you”

He grins, each roll of his hips gathering more of your slick against his length, each thrust teasing at your clit, watching as your body reacts, clenching, desperate to take him into your tight warmth.

"Help?" he continues to tease, acting as if he wasn't just as desperate for you, as if he had the self control to hold out much longer without throwing your legs over his shoulder and fucking you into the mattress until you were a babbling mess.

"Help me Erwin," you were so good, so pliant, so desperate for him. So sensitive, your back arching beautifully off the bed as he runs a thumb across your breasts. "make me-" you choke on a moan, his cock once again catching, so, so close to where you needed him, "make me cum, please"

He leans down at this point, gripping your wrists in one hand and pinning above your head, your writhing dampened by the weight of his body on yours, making your breath come out in gasps, each one a whimpered "yes" or "more".

Lining himself up, he groans, the heat of your core already radiating to his cock, and he wasn't even in you yet.

Your keen mixes with his groan as he pushes past the initial resistance of your muscles, "fuck-fuck you need to relax for me baby" as you whimper, eyes rolling back as the delicious stretch you thought you had forgotten the very feeling of once again overtakes your entire body. Your body was buzzing, like an elastic pulled to its snapping point, but stubbornly refusing to do so. With each inch of him that you took, your legs started to shake, feeling so full, so taken care of, so absolutely dwarfed by the man who currently held your body in the palm of his hand.

Your eyes shoot open when his fingers brush against your clit, the pinch making you scream and leak around him as your hips buck. He uses this motion to slam his hips against yours, fully sheathing himself, the glee shining in his eyes as your breath catches in your throat, knitted brows and gasps of "full, so full, so...so big" fall from your lips.

The burn from the stretch is elating, and you can feel each throb of his pulse inside you, each one helping you adjust to his size. Before you know it, you're once again writhing beneath him, begging him to move. He's careful not to push any further, not wanting to cause you too much pain with each rub of his cock against your cervix, but you beg for it, you demand it, as with each thrust, you pull him deeper inside you, your ankles pressing hard against his back.

The ever stoic and charming CEO, no one would ever catch this side of him, reduced to curses and grunts, worshipping the body of his greatest love with each roll of his hips. His normal hard to come by praises are overtaken with repeated grunts of "good girl", his usual quiet observation replaced with "fuck, fu-uh how are you so damn tight", his goals, usually held close to the vest, spilling out of his mouth, "gonna make you cum for me baby, make you feel so good, m'sorry, neglecting you for so long, m'sorry, go-gonna make it up to you mkay?"

His hips leave yours, only to slam against you again, your glistening slick leaving strings that snap against his own carefully trimmed hairs. Each action is slow, too slow for your desperate nature, but each one is calculated, knowing exactly how to draw out your pleasure, knowing exactly which spots to hit to make you come undone. He shifts his angles, until your body starts to throb around him, the pressure building and building with each scrape of his veins against that spot inside you. Your earlier frustrations come back now with a vengeance, all the earlier ruined orgasms worth it as they build up in your belly, reaching a fever pitch as Erwin finally pulls from you what you had been begging for, what you had been longing for.

Your scream is soundless, body finally succumbing to the insurmountable pressure and pleasure he was bringing, and you finally cum, thrashing in his grip, tucked securely underneath his comforting warmth and weight, "I've got you, let go baby, thats it" murmured against your clammy skin. He pulls out of you gently, soft circles against your pulsing clit helping you ride it out. He means well, but you had been wound up for too long, and his actions do little more than push you headlong into another, this one punctuated with a screech as you're once again convulsing, the snowballed pleasure building up once again, so, so fast, when all of a sudden, you're gushing, spraying his arm, the sheets, and wetting the front of his body.

Too fucked out to register anything, let alone embarrassment, you let it happen, trusting in Erwin to catch you at the end. You know, that eventually, his fingers will slow, and perhaps, he will bring you to completion again, this time with his mouth as he suckles against your skin, a reward for being "such a good girl for me".

- you always knew he was destined for greatness, and never tried to take precedent in his life

- that’s probably one of the main reasons he fell in love with you

- when you met in university, his slicked back hair, carefully ironed slacks, and a resume already more populated than a grad students’ was not what made you gawk at him

- it was the way how he was so absolutely and utterly terrified, face to face with the resident raccoon of the business building, perched on top of the garbage can, nibbling at a half-eaten sandwich

- you practically had to drag him away before the very angry critter attacked

- after that encounter, you seemed to see Erwin everywhere: at the front of the lecture hall of that class you hated, in line for coffee, chatting with his TA, in the parking lot as he unlocked his car, gesturing for you to get in, that “of course it’s no trouble at all!” to give you a ride home

- you stayed by his side through his countless degrees. His MBA after his bachelors, his professional training courses, the countless interviews and staff meetings

- while your own degree was framed on the wall next to his, his way was always to take care of you

- you could work, if you wanted to of course. But he couldn’t stand to see you tired, imagining having to put in long hours, your adorable sleepy face on display for everyone in the board room

- so, at home you stayed, his perfect little wife

- his shiny black credit card, the number already memorized, was always at your disposal. Picking out some earrings? His gentle voice will sound over the receiver, “If you like both pairs baby, get them. Pick out a matching necklace too okay?” Why you still called to consult baffled him. He would buy you the whole store if you just said the word, but the ever loving, doting husband that he is, he’d stay patiently on the video call, watching you try on pair after pair, giving his honest feedback as clients are left to stew outside his office. After all, you were the most important.

- something he never forgot in all these years, was the importance of eating meals with you

- he’d get up early in the morning, just to make you a cup of coffee and bring it to you in bed, because no matter how early he leaves, he knows you want to give him a kiss goodbye, to let him know his lunch was in the fridge, and to not be late for dinner

- sometimes, sometimes, he’d forget his lunch at home on purpose, just to pretend to be surprised when you stroll into his office, lunch bag in hand, much to the chagrin of his secretary, who would discreetly close the door behind you

- Erwin, who takes the time to go grocery shopping with you, because he genuinely cares and wants to hear you ramble about “that recipe you saw the other day”

- Erwin, who sheepishly rubs the back of his neck when you double check the fruit he picks, tossing back yet another one that had a very obvious soft spot on it

- Erwin, who sneaks snacks into the cart, not because he wants it, but because he knows you do

- Erwin, who swears he’s lost his mind when one night, in your fucked out babbling, calls him daddy, begging for him to go deeper, faster

- Erwin, who, god forbid, hears a tremor in your voice as you call him. As he asks you where you are, he can hear the beeping of a machine, and runs out of the office, breaking nearly every traffic law only to crush your body to his own on the sterile crunchy sheets of the hospital bed

- Erwin, who scolds you with tears in his eyes when he asks what happened, only to be interrupted by the doctor who walks in, a big smile on her face as she congratulates the both of you, because he was going to be a dad

- Erwin, who buys you lingerie on Valentine’s Day because it’s a present for you, and for him, and he’ll let you show off all your presents to him, parading around the house testing his patience

- Erwin, who will shower you with gifts because how could he ever repay you for all you do for him? Carrying around his child, to be without your favourite sushi and your beloved coffee.

- husband Erwin, who attends all the birthing classes and hospital tours with you, clipboard in hand to ask incessant questions, ensuring that his darling wife will be receiving the highest of quality of care during the pregnancy

- Erwin, who starts to choke on sobs as you’re screaming in the back seat of the car he is racing to the hospital, trying to keep calm as he reminds you to breathe, and that he’s so sorry for doing this to you

- Erwin, who is getting his hand nearly broken by your grip in the delivery room, nearly getting kicked out twice for yelling at the doctors to “Do something dammit!” because you were in so much pain

- Erwin, who the minute the baby is placed in his arms, starts to sob, turning to you in a mix of adoration and love, “You’ve worked so hard baby. Look how beautiful…your eyes, your smile….beautiful.”

- Erwin, who definitely won’t let you leave the house now, because all he can think about, is how much he misses the way you glowed, the way you waddled around the house, and the way you would place his hands around your belly, giggling as he peers at you wide-eyed, “was that a kick?”

He of course, takes the soft, caring approach first. He brings you a hot water bottle, your favourite fuzzy socks, and buys all your favourite snacks, always open to running to the store to get whatever you’re craving.

But you’re so needy, so desperate, the mixed ache of your cramps along with the throbbing need, to be filled, knowing that it would take the pain away, and feel so good against your feverish skin.

You feel hesitant to ask, not sure how your resident neat freak would react. But he reassures you over and over that you’re perfect, how you taste absolutely divine, that “Relax baby, I’ve got you. Relax for me.”

Your head is propped up against a pillow, and Levi tugs you down the bed by your feet to prevent any headboard related injuries. He presses a kiss against your thighs, caressing the inside of your knees, trailing his hands downwards to where you need him.

Normally he’d be a tease, rile you up until you’re begging for him to do something, to give you more. But your eyes are already half lidded and glassy as they peer at him, lips tugged between your teeth, thighs shaking in his grasp, your chest heaving with heavy bated breaths, barely held back whines as he closes the gap.

His practice fingers spread you open for him, slick webbing between your folds. He’ll run his fingers through your slick once, twice, three times until you’re writhing, “fu-fu-fuck, Levi please!” falling from your lips.

He’ll finally relent and work a finger into you, grunting at how damn soft you feel, how wet you are, how fucking tight you’re gripping him. The pulsing need to cum has overtaken the ache of the cramps by now, but you know he can give you more than just relief.

You’ll beg for “more, more, please!” until he works another finger inside, rubbing against your walls until your heels are digging into his back. Your orgasm hits like a freight train, and your wail echoes across the bedroom as he works you through it, until the shaking subsides.

Just when you’re about prop yourself up by the elbow and hop up off the bed, his grip on your thighs tighten again. His once stilled finger start to work again, but this time, he dips his head down, lips suckling against your clit.

He pries you open to get deeper access, tongue delving into you, groaning as you buck into him, grinding against his face, his nose, trying to get him closer, unabashedly chasing your high.

Your grip on his hair tightens as your second orgasm nears, holding him closer as your hips start to stutter. He can feel your release hit, the fluttering of your cunt hugging against this fingers. He curls them, and suddenly you’re gushing.

Levi lets you soak him, mumbles of “that’s it, good girl” and “so fucking sexy” muffled against you as he continues to lave at your folds, until you have to physically push him away from the overstimulation.

A wave of his hand and a dismissive “Later hun, I had a long day.” was all you got as he padded away, wrenching his arms roughly out of his jacket, loose snow landing all over your foyer.

You swore you wanted to let it go in that moment, you really did. But as your socked feet hit a particularly cold and large patch of snow, the wetness seeping through to your toes and making shivers run up your spine, your easygoing nature went right out the window.

Throwing the broom aside and wincing with each sopping step, you block his way.

“Erwin. No. Any other day, sure, it can wait till later. But I cleaned all day. So no. You go deal with your shoes.”

Your hand on his chest, you could feel him tense underneath your touch as he took the smallest step forward, dwarfing you as he stepped just close enough to make you gasp, blue eyed gaze turning hard, a smallest flicker of a challenge in them as he looked down at you and growled.

“Hun. I said. Later.”

Ignoring the shaking in your knees, the sudden fire that erupted in your belly the moment he invaded your personal space, and the way you just knew you were in for a long, long night, you stubbornly pushed forward.

“Not later. Right. Now.”

One more step from him, and the air came whooshing out from your mouth, embarrassingly close to a whimper as your back hit the wall of your hallway. Your arm was now trapped between your chests, your feeble attempt at some authority now serving as a reminder of just how weak you were to your husband. Your chest was rising and falling pathetically quickly, your lower lip tucked harshly between teeth, and your thighs shaking in an attempt to quell the sudden need for something, anything.

You only shrunk down further as his arms caged you in, and suddenly, you were very aware of Erwin’s cologne, and the way his biceps strained the fabric of his dress shirt. His voice dipped lower, the earlier glimmer of challenge now all that was in his eyes.

“Oh? Looks like my little wife has grown her own fangs.” He leaned in closer, the scratchiness of his skin coming through with the late hour, dragging across your skin as he continued his musing. “My darling is talking back now? It seems a reminder is in order”.

He knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly what he was reducing you to, and took full advantage. Your other hand was by now weakly grasping at his shirt, pressed desperately close to him, nodding along to his every word, eyes already glossy with what he could practically taste was your lust.

A hand to your waist easily hiked you over his shoulder, large hand grasping your bottom firmly to keep you stable. You expected the softness of the bed, but was in for a rude awakening when your limp body was laid across very very firm thighs, barely registering as you desperately wiggled and kicked off the pants that were being eased off, leg by leg.

Your world swam, your breath caught, and your eyes tried desperately to focus as his hand rubbed against your now bare ass, reassuring against what was to come.

“Do you want me to keep count or are you capable of counting yourself, darling?”

His harsh words, the mocking tone of your usual loving moniker, and soft way his thumb was rubbing against your skin was too much. You knew better than to squirm, and even as you whined your answer, you could feel the slick running down your front, no doubt dirtying the floor even further.

“I- I can ah- keep count” you barely managed, a jostle of his knees sending the smallest amount of relief through your body, nerve endings already tingling with anticipation.

Another gentle smooth of his hands over your skin, callused palm catching in the slightest, causing you to shiver again as he leaned in close, the last words you heard before your mind went blank.

“Good girl.”

~

One - the first heavy hit of his palm hitting your backside was always the best. The sear of heat that emanated form his hand made you shriek before hurriedly gasping out the number, taking in big, deep lungfuls of air as you tensed for the second.

Two - this one was heavier than the last, or was it that your ass was already red from the first impact? Soft circles of his hand soothing the twin burns that echoed both on your skin and his palm as you felt his own arousal straining against your tummy. You wiggled against it. Bad idea.

Three - this one he tore from you, resounding smack echoed by a wet squelch as he gathered the slick that was ruining his pants between large fingers, lazily rubbing at your entrance as you shook, choking out your pitiful count between gasps.

Four - he was gentler with you on this one, he knew you could take it, you always did take his punishments so well. But the wet heat that hugged his fingers, the way you were making a mess of the floor and his clothes, and somehow still managed to drench his fingers making him fumble.

Five - your howls were muffled by his thigh, your open mouthed moans leaving yet another stain. He would have to get this whole suit dry-cleaned after all. You were rutting back against his fingers now, little whimpers punctuated with sharp gasps as you tried to anticipate the next blow. He had to remind you of the number.

Six - just over halfway you reminded yourself with this one, begging your body to hold off. But how could you? Thick fingers that stretched you so much better than you ever could, deeper than you ever could. Sloppy smearing of wetness managing to just graze your aching clit, a shock of electricity that had you barreling towards a climax you could not hold back from. It took you nearly three tries to gasp out the short, one syllable word that made Erwin grin from above you, “Good girl, you’re doing so well for me.”

Seven - Your eyes were squeezed shut by now, muscles tensed and your hands fisting the sheets. You could hold off. You refused to cum. But you were so, so close. Especially when he, oh god, when he did that.

Eight - You couldn’t even discern the sounds in the room by now. Erwin’s breathing had gotten ragged, grunts and sighs as he made you sing for him, the ruts of his own barely contained release rubbing against you more and more insistently as he slowly lost his patience. The sound of his fingers, and the airy, wanton moans of “please” and “more oh please more” echoing in the room were surely…not from you?

Nine - you were so close. So close to the end. Your body spent, euphoria dancing through your veins quelling the sharpness of the sting on your backside that was threatening to take over. You were surprised he let you off the hook with your mangled version of “Ni-ni ah-ngh”. When the sting started to take over more, you realized why. You were close, and he knew it. The last blow, he would make you feel it all. Digits so drenched you could see it webbing between his fingers, moved with a hiss, to pull himself free from his pants, your arousal mixing with his as he spread your essence over himself, a whimper of loss falling from your lips. “Please” you begged, not sure what it was you wanted anymore. For the delicious and all consuming last impact of his hand against you? For him to finally let you cum? For a taste of him? For the headboards to rattle as he stuffs you full and fucks you into the mattress while admiring the handprints on your ass?

Ten - Your husband knew you well. Your strength, but also your limits. Your eyes were half lidded, pupils blown, the tears pricking at the corners, body practically writhing in his lap. Your pleas were strung together, barely coherent yet he knew exactly what you wanted. Making sure you were stable on his knees, his fingers reinvaded your warmth, mercilessly reaching, no more teasing or prolonging this time, hitting right where you needed him. Spurred on by your choked shriek, his other hand moved faster, up and down his own length as his head tilted back, muscles tightening as the familiar feeling pooled in his stomach. He didn’t care that you never quite screamed out the last number, because he did it for you, timing the last final sweep of pressure to make you cum for him, slowing his movements to help you work through the convulsions, sobs wracking your body between choked syllables of his name as you finally allowed the tightly wound string of control to snap, his own release following suit.

Wincing at the mess, and the very pretty marks on your still shaking body, he bent down to gently smooth the matted hair from your drenched forehead, placing a soft kiss against your sticky skin.

“You did so good for me baby. So, so good.”

A soft hum was all you could manage, voice hoarse from screams you don’t remember letting out.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He placed you on the bed, pillow underneath your belly to lessen the pressure on your lower half. “I’ll get you cleaned up and run a bath.”

Your eyes must have drifted closed at some point, the comforting warmth of a towel startling you.

For him, your shock was a cause of worry. Smoothing his palms once again over your skin, this time as if you were a bubble he was afraid to pop, his eyes met yours. “Was I too rough?”

Your smile and shake of your head might have prompted him to argue some more, but the soft press of your lips stopped him in his tracks. In between kisses, you clung to him, “let’s go take a bath. You’ve had a long day.”

“Mhmmm”

Your drawn-out hum caused the whining mess that was your roommate to buck into your chin, fluttering lashes hiding blown pupils as she chewed on her lips, holding back the whimper of desperation as she watched the remnants of the last half hour drip from your lips.

Truly a ravishing sight, her gorgeous locks billowing behind her on the pillow, barely held together by the elastic that was slipping off with each thrash of her head against your freshly washed sheets.

You hummed again, smiling into it this time as you dipped back between her shaking thighs, finger pressed to your lips as you met her eyes, a final reminder to keep very, very quiet.

Every lick, suck, brush, and fondle had her shaking beneath you, bottom lip quivering with the need to cry out for you, to beg you to let her cum. Following a particularly slick sounding thrust of your fingers inside her, you finally had to pull away, fingers gently caressing your poor, dear roommate, clear liquid smearing as you finally spoke into the phone tucked under your ear.  

“Yah, I’m still here mom. I’m just…having a snack.”

“Friday night on a long weekend, and you’re spending it holed up at home. Sometimes I wonder when I will ever get to call myself grandmother! I know your Auntie Jo has plenty of nice boys working for her that she can introduce you to. What about your roommate? Can’t she help you meet some nice boys?”

You smile at her words and Pieck’s eyes growing wide once again as she claps a hand over her mouth and not even a second later, you’re pressing soft kisses to her still dripping folds.

Blinking open bleary eyes, the first thing you felt was pain. A dull ache at your temple was throbbing, waves ebbing in and out like your consciousness. Another more steady, straining type of pain tore at your limbs, ones you tried, and failed to move. Your eyes were hard to open, and when you forced your body to comply, there was a tackiness that held one of your eyes shut.

Your neck was sore, presumably from being hunched over in your unconscious state, and as you struggled to focus and make sense of your surroundings, the spots on your pants, and the tackiness finally made sense. It was blood. Your blood.

Erwin. The shop. The gun. Levi.

Everything came rushing back, and you struggled against the restraints that bound your wrists and ankles to the wooden chair you were seated in. The knots were tight, and the scratches from the frayed rope burned against your skin. Your head lifted, taking in the surroundings to slowly acclimatize to the conditions.

The walls were grey, concrete, and thick. Heavy uncovered metal beams ran across the structure overhead, and what looked to be a rusted piece of corrugated metal acted as the roof. A makeshift construction light with a single lightbulb illuminated the little corner of the space you were in, empty save for a couple other wooden chairs and a barstool that acted as a makeshift table. You scoffed before barking out into the silence.

“An old warehouse. Real original Erwin.”

You were half expecting an answer, but nothing could have prepared you for the way a hand appeared out of the darkness from behind you, searing grip on your hair making you hiss out in pain.

“Why fix what isn’t broken? Old warehouses, kidnapping a loved one, bargaining a life for a life, betrayal.” Erwin’s voice was cold, his malicious intent clear. “It works. And well.”

This wasn’t the man who had been with you through thick and thin, your ever reliable, dependable agent, the man you trusted to be alone with Lily.

Lily.

Your breath suddenly hitches as a shiver runs up your back. Ignoring the tear of your hair, you strain, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“If you lay a hand on Lily – ”

He throws you against the chair, legs straightening to their full length as he appears from the shadows, the smirk on his face only describable as pure evil.

“What would you give me if I told you I had her?” he mused, the tip of his gloved hand running up your neck, his eyes glinting as you swallowed thickly.

“I don’t have anything that you want.” You argued, still straining against your restraints. “You know that.”

“I know you don’t.” he continued, walking over to grip one of the other wooden chairs by the back before sauntering back towards you. “Your father, however, does have what I want.”

“Power?”

“No. More than that. Respect. Loyalty.”

The hollow thump of wood against the cold cement floor echoes across the abandoned warehouse as he takes a seat directly behind you, cold breath making goosebumps rise to your skin.

“And your little detective is going to help me get it.”

“He’ll never help you.” You spat, inhale of breath catching as Erwin once again presses the cold muzzle of his gun to your side.

“Oh but he will. With your life on the line, he will betray your father for me. With his darling daughter’s life…” Erwin pauses, voice dipping lower against your ear, “with his daughter’s life on the line, he’ll do whatever I ask of him.”

Just when you were about to quip back, the rumbling of an engine overtook the silence. The crunch of gravel got closer and closer, and the engine sounds cut short as blue and red lights started to flash outside the tiny windows the warehouse offered.

Counting your heartbeats as blood pounded in your ears, a tiny beam of white light cut through the darkness, the tip tapping of measured footsteps getting louder, echoing in the silence.

Slowly, Levi’s face appears from the darkness, illuminated by the flashlight he held in his left hand, gun in his right. Familiar dark circles, his jaw, clenched with worry, and his brows, furrowed in concentration as he took in your current state, before sweeping the room, landing on a still smug Erwin who sat behind you, just close enough to put you in danger from any shots Levi attempted to get off.

“It’s over, Smith.” Levi barks, his authoritative tone making you swallow again from where you sat, resisting the urge to straighten your back. “You know how this ends.”

“Do I, detective?” Erwin mocks, wiggling his gun against your side to catch the light from Levi’s flashlight, and you can see the hesitation flash in his eyes. “Call off your dogs, the reinforcements, and then we’ll talk.”

You wait, with bated breath as Levi scowls, pocketing the flashlight, keeping his gun trained on Erwin as he reaches for the radio attached to his collar, the order of “Stand down. All of you.” crackling through the feedback.

“Now that that’s taken care of,” Erwin’s voice is calm, unhurried, “let’s talk.”

“Don’t think for a moment I won’t take you out myself.” Levi’s eyes are murderous, flicking over the splatters of copper on your clothes and the dried streaks on your forehead.

“You’re not that brash. Not while I have her, and that little brat of yours.”

“You better check on your information Erwin. My people have Lily.” A picture on his phone is shown, more for you sake than his, Hanji and Moblit posing with a smiling Lily and the rather shaken looking babysitter. “You need to invest in better people.”

A scowl, and curse under his breath was the only clue you had that Erwin was losing his patience.

“No matter. I still have her. If you just work with me Levi, and tell me what I need to know, about where I can strike. Wasn’t that what your mission was in the first place? To take the group down? Clean up the town? You can do that now. With me. Together.”

“That was my goal,” Levi nodded, gaze unwavering, “but things don’t always go to plan.”

“You fell in love.” more a statement than a question.

“I did.” Grey eyes once again flit over to you, and you can’t will away the pain that rings through your heart at his words. He did. Not anymore.

“So help me now” Erwin continues, “help me take over and unify the factions. And you can be with her again. I’ll let the both of you go, if I get what I want.”

It’s as if he could read the hesitation in Levi’s eyes, the ache in his heart and the longing in his soul.

“She never forgot you, you know.”

Tears were now streaming down your face, not sure when they started. You could feel Levi’s eyes on you but refused to look him in the eye. Not again. Not anymore. You couldn’t.

“For years I asked her to be mine. To be with me. But she never agreed. I guess part of me always knew you were the reason,” Erwin sighs, “but to see you in the flesh. Alive no less, and to know you were a rat from the start.”

He turns to you now, grip on your chin to make you look at him, smirk on his face.

“How does it feel, sweetheart? To know that he was always going to leave you. That he planned on betraying you from the start.”

“No” you whimpered, hot tears once again escaping. You knew everything Erwin was saying was true, ever since you discovered Levi’s true identity. Deep down, it had been hurting you from the day you met him again, but to admit to the pain meant admitting that he still meant something. It meant admitting that you, try as you might, never got over him, that his hold over your heart never lessened, even after all the years and all the pain.

“Don’t you hate him?” Erwin was still goading you, knowing what you were about to say. All these years, the resentment that he held for your polite declines to his invitations out to dinner, the way he had to dote on you for the slightest appreciation, it bubbled over at your stubborn determination to love a man who broke you to as many pieces as he had to put back together. It was all reaching a fever pitch that he was rapidly losing control of.

“No.” you whispered, finally lifting your head up, catching Levi’s eyes and choking out a sob. “I don’t.”

Erwin turns away, turning to regard Levi again, only to see the man’s eyes widen, his words not directed at anyone else but you.

“Say it again.” Levi was saying, “Say it.”

This time, everyone hears it. Your defeated sob, the helplessness of your emotions, after all these years, echoing in the silence.

“I love him.”

~

You weren’t sure what happens next. Suddenly, the room is engulfed by darkness, and a red flare shoots from the spot Levi was last standing. In the red light of the room, steam from the flare and kicked up dust flies all about as one, two, or was that three? sets of footsteps patter around you, occasional dark shadows caught under the dim red din of light. Erwin is roaring in surprise, his shots shooting yellow sparks in the room as he tries to hit his targets.

All you knew was that suddenly, the tightness around your wrists and ankles loosened, rope falling away with a thump. You swore you felt a warm hand squeeze yours, a familiar warm squeeze.  

A flash of red catches your attention, and you gasp in surprise. No way.

Within a moment, the lights flicker back on, and the name falls from your lips as a familiar face confirms your earlier suspicions.

“Izzy.”

~

Erwin was on the ground, struggling in Farlan’s grip as Isabel stood by you, bottom lip wobbling as she tries to blink away the tears that are shining in her eyes. She nods as Levi wraps a hand around your waist, hoisting your arm over his shoulder so he can get you to stand.

“Big bro mentioned an emergency, and told us not to ask any questions, but I never expected to see you again big sis!”

“Yah,” Farlan grunts, still struggling against Erwin as he pins him down, both legs wrapped around the larger man, “I get a call from the boss after thinking he’s been 6 feet under for the last five years.”

“Thank you both for coming.” Levi grunts, “looks like our old tricks still worked.”

He fusses over you for a moment, gentle fingers brushing over the blood matted hair stuck to your forehead. He’s pleased with what he sees, the cut was deep, but no longer bleeding. A couple of stitches would fix you right up. His ring is cold as it brushes against your skin, and you recoil, half from its sting, and half from the shame that you still harboured feelings for him, so many years later, despite knowing that he’s happily married. Despite knowing that you probably meant nothing to him.

“I’m okay” you hear yourself saying, ducking his touch again. “I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t bare the care with which he was exhibiting. His touch a reminder of the days and nights you spent in each other’s arms, the soft kisses he would press to your forehead, the soft promises of love, your favourite nickname repeated over and over on his lips.

“Honeybee?”

You looked up to realize Levi had been talking, eyes searching yours. In his hand was his wedding band, and he was placing it on your palm. You stared at the polished metal, wanting to know why he had taken it off, why it was in your hand, why he wanted to continue to hurt you, when your eyes caught the inscription.

It was just what he called you, so many years ago. What he was calling you now. What your whole life had revolved around despite every effort to forget him.

Honeybee.

“I was never married,” he explains, “Well, I was, in my mind, always married to you. I was going to ask you…the day I left. But the Chief…he pulled me and I-.”

You didn’t let him finish the sentence, engulfing him in a hug as you wet his shoulder with your tears.

“Levi you ass.”

You smile was bright, and your eyes were just as he remembered, gazing at him in a way that brought warmth, a warmth he hadn’t felt in over half a decade since you had gone.

Bringing your nose to his, you brought your lips closer to his, angling for a kiss, when a commotion sounded outside. Levi had called for his backup as soon as Erwin was incapacitated, but it seemed there was more trouble.

A flash and bang rang out from the beams by the roof, and Farlan was groaning, returning shots of his own as red poured from his leg.

“Get out of here boss!” came a shout from the beams as Erwin managed to get free, running towards the exit.

He turned back towards you for a moment, even in defeat, his blue eyes were cold and calculating as he gave you a final wave.

You didn’t notice the second gun he had pulled from his ankle holster during his tussle with Farlan until it was too late, muzzle pointed straight at you as the shot rang out.

All you remembered after that, was screaming.