sam @ohhdaarling-blog - Tumblr Blog

Pairing: Erwin Smith x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit / NSFW - 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 6,402

Warnings: Established Relationship, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting fluff, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Modern AU, Florist AU, Love, Romance, Oral Sex, Male and Female receiving, Vaginal Fingering, Kissing, Happy Ending, Marriage, Soft Dom Erwin, Cum licking, female-bodied reader

A/N: First Tumblr post and who better than our wonderful, handsome blond Commander? 😊

“Father, but why do you still do it?” a young Erwin inquired, staring up at his father with adoration and bewilderment.

Mr. Smith placed lunch down in front of his son and sat adjacent to him. There’s a small smile etching on his lips, and he tipped his head towards the food. Testing the young boy’s patience for which he knows is limited. And Erwin knows his father won’t utter a word unless he obliged. So, as he munched on his sandwich, Erwin’s impossibly blue eyes widen larger. At the ready to listen intently as he always does when his father spoke.

“Well, I don’t do it every day, Erwin. But I was a boy, not much older than you are—”

Erwin chewed and swallowed quickly. “You mean you were young once?”

Mr. Smith ruffled his son’s hair. “Yes, son. Even I was young once,” he teased before pressing on.

A soft, subtly sweet scent encompassed the older Smith. He could still remember the days of soft petals and vibrant colors. Walking around with his own father, a mélange of flowers in his hands; not one the same in size or composition. He made sure of it. Just how no person was alike; they deserved a flower to match.

For the most part, everyone accepted one. Shocked smiles turned into appreciation and even those with blatant superiority complexes pacified the then young Mr. Smith, bringing a bud to their noses before turning to do a double take. The simple and kind act generally made strangers happy. Colored some humanity into the greying world.

Erwin looked thoughtful but reserved some skepticism. The kids at school weren’t as genteel. Not like how his father detailed in his story. But he’s tenacious to try and find any truth to his father’s message—

Do these simple acts of kindness genuinely make a difference?

In grade school, Erwin was dubbed ‘Eyebrow’ and ‘Flower Boy’. They got ignored of course for lack of creativity. Nonetheless, Erwin followed in his father’s stead, even after he tragically passed away, knowing the shoes he stepped into were incredibly hard to fill. He thought this as he’s stared at that single bouquet laid upon the freshly unearthed dirt before a gravestone.

For all the smiling faces he saw his father cause, upon death only a boy mourned him.

Those nicknames hitched a ride on Erwin’s back like a pest until high school. They slowly chipped off once Erwin grew more into his looks and body, met his best friends. Soon, the gifting of flowers shifted to being asked for them. For a flower from Erwin Smith was a symbol to flaunt.

Rancor clung to Erwin’s skin for most of his young adult life after that. He traded kindness for stoicism. Abandoned any notion of flowers. It was stupid. Scorned Valentine’s Day and purposefully avoided the floral sections of stores like they were a disease. The grey had him in its clutches, filtering his vision. For a long time, he didn’t care. What did it matter anyways?

That was until a pretty woman proved his father’s truth. And it smacked him square in the face.

Erwin had opted for a different route on his jog back to his downtown apartment near his college campus. It was there on that sidewalk where he was insistently handed the most vivid, abundant sunflower with golden petals so large, they stretch bigger than his head. Bringing it closer, he let the floral scent take him to his father.

“Wait,” he does a double take, calling over his shoulder and screaming at his legs to move even if they feel like mush.

It’s been a busy week from hell. To make matters worse, you haven’t seen your boyfriend in a few days, not that you’re counting. It isn’t rare considering his profession, but your body is thrumming and tingling with anticipation as to why he’s been distant. Having known Erwin for a while now, he never seems to beat around the bush. Since the beginning of your relationship, he’s made it a point to have and value open and honest communication.

For he knows he’ll regret letting you get lost in the crowd without so much as a thank-you.

-

So, why does this absence tug at your chest?

By closing time, you receive a short message that he’ll meet you at your shop. You sigh heavily and dust your hands off on your apron before you water some plants. Peeking outside, the suns glow is faint as twilight settles in. A few sparsely scattered stars sparkle in the sky. Still no sign of him.

Aimlessly, you scroll on your phone waiting and fidgeting bent over the back counter. The little bell above your shop door alerts you. Snapping your head up with keenness, there stands Erwin, clad in a three-piece suit. A jacket drapes over one of his forearms and there’s a hot disposable cup in the other with a familiar logo.

“Erwin,” you murmur fondly, lobbing your phone to the side, eyes lighting up as you take him in.

Though his shoulders slump and there’s a heavier drag to his gait, it doesn’t deter the dashing smile that stretches along his mouth. Just when you don’t think his eyes could shine any brighter, they look you up and down before he wets his lower lip. You completely miss a sneaky hand lock the door.

“Excuse me miss; I know you’re closing but I must get flowers,” Erwin says coyly, advancing more into the shop.

“Oh, you must?”

He nods diligently, a single strand of hair leaving his usual left part. “Yes. You see, there’s a beautiful woman waiting for me, and I hear this is the best place to get them.”

Erwin stops at the table in the middle of the shop. He observes a vase brimming with red roses and takes a petal in between his accessible fingers. He’s so gentle in his touching of the flower. Your eyes are captivated by his large hand to the small bud. A demure laugh escapes you as you scurry around the counter and approach the tall man.

“Well, I can personally attest that I am the best florist in town.”

“Humble, too.” Erwin peeks over at you again, the beginnings of a smirk tugging the corner of his lips. “So, will you help me?”

After hemming and hawing, trying to make him squirm— a futile effort—you place a hand on your hip and tilt your head to the side. You’re unsure of what Erwin has up his sleeves, but this charade of his piques your curiosity enough to appease.

“On one condition.”

“Pray tell,” he intrigues.

You smile. “You have to return and tell me how much she loves them.”

Erwin holds up three fingers; even his back straightens. “Scouts honor.”

“Before we get started,” you dally, now watching your own fingers absentmindedly rub a rose petal, “what kind of bouquet would you like? Or are you going on my recommendation?”

Erwin slowly, meticulously glances around the shop like he hasn’t been there countless times. It’s plentiful, home to various types and colors. A familiar scent wafts around him from the fusion of freshly watered flora. But even as he ganders, Erwin comes to the conscientious he wants this to be unlike any other bouquet. It’ll have significance and thus no one single flower shall do.

“I want it to be like looking at a dream.”

Your throat goes dry, and you could weep from how sweetly he says the words. “Like looking at a dream,” you manage to repeat back in a meek whisper.

You don’t want to break this façade, so you feebly suck in a breath to steel your composure while he nods. But you know your eyes are giving away your thoughts the longer they stare at the handsome man before you. Your heart ticks a beat. Erwin’s words are too surreal, even as they repeat in your mind.

As Erwin briefly glances to the paper cup in his hand, his smile becomes richer, surer. “I got this for you.”

“Oh, from Levi's tea shop? Popular spot lately.” You take the warm cup and sniff at the soothing aroma emitting from the small hole. It’s your favorite and you know he asked Levi to make it extraordinarily. “How'd you know what I'd like?”

“Took a risk.” Erwin flirts back adding a wink to his smile.

You’re riveted. Flustered, the fingers of your free hand fumble with your shirt collar, cooling your hot décolletage.

After a delicious sip of your beverage and clearing your throat, diligence fills your body as you occupy yourself with meeting his demands. There’s a reason he’s going about it in this manner. But anyone who knows you knows patience is a virtue you sorely lack.

Erwin hurries to point to the first flower, one that’s closest to you both. The air between you is palpable and raw. One of you is going to cave at any moment, he feels it, but Erwin quickly swallows before he resumes being a paragon of poise.

Stooping to an aluminum tin you pluck some peach-colored roses, shaking the droplets of water that you swear evaporate when they splash onto your hands. Once standing upright, Erwin hands you some little white daisies he grabs from a few pots away. Fleetingly, his fingers brush against yours. Now it’s his turn to yank on his collar, loosening his tie while some of his resolve slips.

When you both mull over chrysanthemums, he’s appreciative the light-purple ones are blossoming vigorously. Erwin follows behind you to the left wall where the creamy pink peonies are, admiring the way your apron strings sway also matches your hips. You beam when he leans forward to tell you what they symbolize. Love, romance, prosperity. And something else that’s been weighing heavily on his mind that’ll come later.

His breath raises the hair on the back of your neck, and shivers ripple down your body.

“Someone’s been doing their research. I might be out of a job at this rate.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Erwin lolls his head to the side, bright eyes gleaming with amusement, “was growing quite fond of our partnership.”

You give him a light nudge, momentarily breaking character while asking him what else he’d like to add as you pluck bad leaves off stems. The bulk of the bouquet is perfected with the addition of baby blue hyacinths.

Erwin is pleased at the bundle of flowers that now lay beside him. He’s resting his rear on the ledge of the back counter, ankles crossed. Smitten eyes watch you flounce about your shop to fill a vase and locate shears. His chest swells with affection. Though he quirks a thick brow when you return with more plants.

“Baby’s breath,” you wave a bundle of small clustered white flowers by the side of his face followed by, “eucalyptus leaves. Trust me.”

“I trust you.”

You chew over his words. It’s only three, but they hold such reverence. And the sincerity of his sentimentality doesn’t go unnoticed while you expertly preen and arrange the flowers. With Erwin’s assistance of course and now that he’s taken off his suit jacket, you marvel at the way his taut muscles move.

“You’d make a fine assistant.”

“Assistant?” he pivots to face you, offering a short laugh before his visage goes soft, relaxed. Beatific. A look only you’re benefitted. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“Erwin,” his name comes out breathily as you cease your actions to devote your attention to him, “what’s going on? I’ve missed you and—”

“Nosy, aren’t you? You’ll find out soon. Promise.”

If only you were paying more attention, you’d have caught his fragile timbre. All you can concentrate on is the prickling sensation from no contact that Erwin seems to currently foist upon you.

You purse your lips together in a sheepish smile, admiring your handy work. “You know I own this flower shop, right? I can acquire flowers whenever I want.”

“True.” Erwin lifts himself off the edge of the counter and spins to face you entirely, dropping the act. “But isn’t it special having flowers picked by someone who is in love with you? Knows you? Wants to spend their life with you?”

He places his hands at his sides and meanders around the small breadth of the worktop separating you two. The sound of his shoes is sharp on the concrete floor, tensing your body with every clack that draws near.

Your eyes widen, grateful you have something to lean on, but you don’t stop fussing with the arrangement. Even as Erwin looms over you, heavily breathing down your side. The clippers in your hands feel so heavy in your grasp you might plunge to the floor.

“Of course, it is. Flowers do a good job of expressing many things.”

One thing you quickly learned about Erwin is that he has a peculiar way of speaking. It’s like poetry; thoughtful and articulate but complex with a dash of double meaning. Tenderly, he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger. He wants the view of how much he’s affecting you because he can feel the rising heat that’s now permeating off your skin.

“Exactly and when met with all the flaws of thorns or wilting the person picking them is able to still see beauty and life. The vitality if someone would only tend to them, shed the bad petals, and leaves so they can flourish.”

Just as you’re about to speak, Erwin endures, “every flower should be given the chance to bloom.”

He’s made you wait long enough. You’ve been so acquiescent. And experiencing how you are reacting from mere words sets off something feral within him.

“Are we…” You trail off, heart fluttering in your chest.

Your eyes are swimming in Erwin’s rapacious blues, completely starstruck and unable to tear away. “Are we still talking about flowers?”

“Are we?” he asks lasciviously and raises up an eyebrow as he releases his hold, empties your hands, and discards everything to the countertop.

By the time Erwin has you up against the back wall under some dripping hanging plants, your inhibitions are long gone. The plants create an adequate curtain for the large window in the front of your shop.

Your lips press together. The exhale through your nose to steady your vivacious heart only makes things worse.

“Erwin,” you chastise, but you can only manage to mutter, “my back is getting wet.”

He lowers his mouth to the side of your neck and hums mockingly. “Only your back, huh?” His voice is smooth like honey, ricocheting off your skin into the quiet shop.

His cologne is piquant today. It mixes superbly with his woodsy soap and his own scent you’ve come to covet. So much so that you dip your head back and close your eyes, immersing yourself in an Erwin-filled fog.

He shuffles closer, squeezing a leg in between yours. When he leans in you push against his thick thigh, gently rubbing against the muscles. The friction is luring. Cupping the back of your head he brings it upright again while the other wraps around you.

“I want us to enjoy every second of this. Of each other.” Erwin’s words are adamant as he studies your face, ultimately keeping glued to your lips that you gnaw.

It only takes you a split second to think of your encouraged response.

“Kiss me.”

Erwin’s pupils enlarge. He lets out a low groan, deep from within this throat, before crashing his lips to yours. Forcing your shaking lips to part, he slides his desperate tongue inside of your mouth. The hand around you delicately comes to touch every inch of your sides and your back. Eventually, Erwin sneaks a hand under your shirt.

Your hands splay on each of his cheeks. Both of you are pushing hard against one another, practically melding into one. He starts kissing you harder with such a fervent need for intimacy it makes your head even more cloudy. Your body goes limp in his hold.

You need him closer, because close just isn’t close enough. You want the weight of his body smothering yours. Every vein in your body is throbbing. The taste of him lingers on your tongue, and its addicting. You want to taste more as Erwin drinks you for all you’re worth.

After Erwin relinquishes his hold of your head and pulls away, he takes that thumb and swipes the moistness from your swollen lips. Both of you are breathing arduously, chests heaving in succession.

“The back chair… chair room…” you stumble. “Shit.”

Erwin chuckles weakly for he too is overwhelmed, and you’ve barely started. “Take your time.”

“Chair. Back room. Now.” You motion with your chin in the direction ready to steer the tall man.

It’d be all too easy to scamper up the stairs to your attached loft, but your viscous daze has you by the throat and you need him.

He lightly strokes your back as he soothes you. “Sounds to me like you’re short on breath,” he coos in jest. Honestly, he’s been loving every second of this torture.

“And patience. Take me, Erwin.” You whine out a plea.

“Marry me.”

If there’s one thing Erwin does flawlessly, its render you dumbstruck—jaw slacking, eyes bulging dumb. All noise vanishes. The room spins. Flowers, pots, shelves are an opaque blur. Your tongue feels numb, saliva like glue, and you’re only able to huff out air, racking your brain for any coherent words.

“Wha—”

“I said,” Erwin dips his pelvis to dig deeper into yours and a moan suffocates your airways, “marry me. If I don't ask you, I'll regret it for the rest of my life.”

“Are you…” You spare a quick glance to the window and gulp. “You know? One knee? Or something?”

It’s so traditional—God, you know it is and times have changed as far as proposals go—but damn it, it’s all you can manage to spill out.

The degree to which Erwin is enjoying your reaction is immeasurable. Your sass he likes but experiencing you about to turn into a puddle he loves. He complies with your non-request and kneels in front of you, eyes never leaving your face. His large hands lace with yours and lightly squeeze when he places a chaste kiss to them.

“Better?” he quips before his expression and tone become serious. “I never imagined getting married. Said for a long time I’d leave it for better men. But you’ve been a welcomed warmth I realize I can’t endure without, be better without. So, I ask… will you marry me?”

Always one for speeches.

You don’t miss a beat and sink to the floor with him, fists full of the sky-blue dress shirt collar that you bought him. “Yes, Erwin Smith. I’ll marry you.”

Foreheads gently resting against together, sitting on a cold concrete floor, Erwin pulls you into his arms. His hugs are like the sun exerting rays and embers of warm effervescence; the world completely stops as the feeling swathes you in a homey safe haven only Erwin can create. You inhale and feel even more alive.

His lips connect with the closest patch of your skin. Tongue agonizingly laving up your neck. He feels your erratic pulse beat against the muscle and a cheeky smile is unavoidable. Nor is the confident chuckle that resounds. Along your jaw, Erwin scatters hot kisses, smudging a trail with his wet lips to your slightly parted mouth where he waits.

Just the sound of two hearts beating loudly in the space. Enough to feel and strong enough to drown out the world but Erwin’s eyes. They’re so solid, a lustrous glacial blue that you swim in. The simmering heat in the bottom of your stomach soars to your chest and spreads faster than wildfire to your face, your legs, and aching cunt. Frantic eyes dance together before Erwin stands you both up, guiding you to the stairs.

“Wait, the front door, its—”

“Locked,” he affirms, ushering you up to your loft.

Both of you are tearing off your clothes in a frenzy once inside. Apron flung near the front door, shoes hidden underneath pools of pants, and Erwin hurls both your shirts somewhere. Quick to rekindle the flame between your now exposed skin.

When you enter your bedroom, and whoosh all your clean, needing to be folded laundry to the floor, Erwin’s on the prowl barely giving you enough time to turn on a string of lights above your bed.

His body exudes heat as he pulls your back flush against his chest and that causes you to tremble. Burrowing his nose in your hair, lightly touching your neck, deft fingers unhook your bra for his large hands to grasp your breasts. To rub them beneath his massive, strong hands, to feel and squeeze. Rolling your nipples between his fingers, he rocks both your bodies side to side.

“Tell me," Erwin ponders. "Tell me you want me.”

“I want you. God, I want you, Erwin.” A whimper chokes out of you.

You feel his hard cock twitch and your mouth salivates. Only boxer-briefs separate you from eliciting the sweetest grunts and moans from him. It doesn’t take much to struggle free and turn towards him. Your hands roam his chest, ghost over his muscular stomach appreciatively, until you’ve knelt in front of him, and scoot so your face is level with his protuberance.

Taunting the rim of the waistband, you slowly drag his underwear down until you’re graced with the sight of Erwin’s thick cock. It weeps at the slit, already greedy for you. Your fingers curl around it and he sucks in a ragged breath when you gently kiss the tip.

“Don’t tease me, sweetheart. It’s not ni—”

Wanting him to feel how desperate he’s made you this evening, you hasten your pumping back and forth while casing your hot mouth around the first couple inches. It’s enough that Erwin can classify it as fucking your mouth while he suppresses a groan by gritting his teeth. Your drool gets sloppy all over your lips, his cock. It dribbles down your chin, but your tongue is too busy lapping ardently to worry about licking yourself clean.

Erwin’s head lolls back traitorously and he fists a clump of his hair, mussing it up. “Oh. Fuck—”

Flames of desire ignite his skin. Any hotter and his flesh might sear off. The lewd sounds of your mouth popping on and off of him are divine. When you remove your hand and guzzle as much of his cock as your throat will allow—sputtering and gagging—Erwin reels back not ready to cum just yet.

“That’s for always giving orders,” you mumble, batting your lashes up at him.

“Heh,” he tuts wryly before going serious, “up.”

Stepping out of his underwear, Erwin kicks them to the side and moves to the foot of the bed. A salacious grin etches on his face when you bounce on your bed, on all fours shaking your ass and glancing back at him. As if you’re the one in control. Adorable.

The broad blond reaches for your ankles and drags you to him. There’s a soft yelp that goes ignored as he flips you on your back. Only when your ass is half-way dangling off the edge of the bed, does Erwin get on his knees. Delicately and sensually, he caresses above your panties with his thumbs. Then he shimmies them down, taking one leg out at a time to place on each of his shoulders.

“Erwin...”

He stays silent, simply admiring your glistening cunt while positioning himself in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. It’s fucking hot seeing him like this, ready to ravage you. The first thing you feel is that hallmark of a nose burying into your soaking wet folds, but when his tongue starts to lap up your mess, your pelvis erratically and involuntarily bucks.

He clicks his tongue and nips your inner thigh as a playful warning. There’s a smugness in his tone when your breath hitches from the sting.

“Ah, ah, ah. Down.”

Lightly, he presses on your lower belly, holding firm so you’re left to writhe flat on the bed.

You just can’t seem to catch a solitary win tonight.

Pulling your folds apart, Erwin plunges his tongue into your hole at the same time he moves a finger to circle your clit. Ecstasy sparks along your sensitive skin and pleasure shoots through your cunt as you shamelessly and loudly chant, “there, oh yeah, there. Don’t… stop.”

You hear him snicker darkly, currents vibrating inside of you. And your legs push on his back wanting him buried inside as far as he can go. To hell if he can breathe. That tongue is miraculously working you over. There’s no remorse for you, that much is evident in his thoroughness.

"’S what you get for teasing me.”

Erwin leans back on his haunches before you can have any sort of release. The cool air hits between your legs and you splice them, catching your breath. A few more minutes of that and you’d be an unmovable heap. But Erwin has other plans for you. He wants to feel you cream on his cock, wants the satisfaction that he riled you up and pleased you.

After crawling back into the middle of the bed, you draw Erwin to you with your lusty eyes, observing the sheen on his face that he wipes away with the back of his hand. Carefully, he joins you on the bed, massaging your limbs until his hands are on either side of your face. Inclining his face towards yours, he lays his mouth on you first. The tips of your fingers graze along the column of his spine, coaxing him to press his body to yours.

This kissing feels different than others before. Evoking emotions and sensations you never knew you were capable of while your tongues merge and flick. Erwin feels the same because he’s being methodical and presents a gradual gradation of intensity. One that makes you both cling for life to each other in this dizzying moment.

“Are you ready?” he pants, words melting onto your lips.

“Yes, I want you inside me. Want to feel it all.”

Slowly, he hauls himself up, kissing down your throat, and sternum. You bend your legs, separating them for Erwin to settle in between again. With languid movements, he strokes his cock, eyes soaking up your spread naked body. Every dip, curve, mark. They’re beautiful. And he takes his time ogling the malleable skin of your breasts that he quickly reaches down to grope.

Erwin inhales deeply when his tip brushes along your slickness. Coating him too deliciously that he bows his head down to watch himself plunge inside. He hisses once your scorching hot walls surround him entirely.

“Mm,” He feverishly licks his lips, where your taste lingers, and he praises drawing out each word, “you take me so well, my gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

You part your legs more, toes curling into the sheet beneath you from his healthy, well-endowed cock. And your hands are everywhere. Grasping the bed, in your hair, reaching out for Erwin all while you’re jutting your hips up to get him deeper and moving.

“Fuck me, Erwin. Please. For the love of God.”

“Hush, baby. We’ve a lifetime for fucking. Let us love.”

“Not long enough.” You pout.

His skin crackles with arousal when you clench, but he wants you both to enjoy this, so he tempers his hip movements to a gentle roll. With each drag out of your cunt, he shoves back inside just as slow. The sticky squelching sounds drive him frenetic. He’s disgustingly drunk on it.

“Je…sus Christ.”

All piety is forsaken when Erwin shakes his head and finally acquiesces to your demands. Rough hands yank you closer to him ready to rip you apart as he lets the beast within him take over. Ramming into you with ferocity, pounding as hard as he can without loosing control of himself.

But after the last few hard thrusts, he pulls out of you, emitting an aching groan from how sensitive he is. Afraid, he quickly glances down to make sure he hasn’t cum prematurely. After all these years and countless romps, you unequivocally still affect him. To the point he wants to cum almost immediately somedays.

Hot tears teem your eyes. From desperation. Or from the warm tension building within you again you’re unsure because he feels too good inside you. Stretching you so tight like a rubber band begging to snap. You yearn for him to fill you so you can both release together. Solidify your agreement to the man you are so madly in love with.

Erwin shakes his head and slips his cock back into you, momentum at half-speed, but not lacking. Hands gripping the bedding at your sides, he lists forward. You seize the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist while your hands tug his head nearer.

An alleviated sigh escapes him. This new pace is manageable, and your needy little sounds justify the change. For a bit.

“What’s wrong?”

His brow furrows, catching your face underneath the faint light above you both. Shifting his weight to one hand, he cradles your cheek, ceasing his motions but remaining inside of you. There’s a bead of sweat that drops to your chest, and you decipher it’s time for you to put in some work. Perhaps the new position will create the sweet friction you so distraughtly need.

Propping up on your elbows, you purse your lips, facing away as you mull it over. Tonight is special and the last thing you want Erwin thinking is he isn’t loving you properly.

“Look at me.”

Tenderly, he redirects your gaze to his. Concern paints his features, as he tries to calm his breathing so his rapidly beating heart isn’t deafening.

“Can we…” you falter, eyes searching his face for any hint of annoyance or irritation. When you find no such thing, only patient worry, your unease melts away. “Let’s try something else.”

“Of course.”

Erwin doesn’t dare argue, knowing whatever you have in mind will be a treat. He kisses your forehead before the quick exchange where Erwin’s the one sprawled on the bed, half leaning against the headboard and long legs stretching out.

Waggling a finger, he beckons you to come to him. You let him guide you onto his lap where his cock is stiff and potent. Gliding it between your fingers you line it up to your cunt and slide down.

Your hands come to grip his shoulders, nails digging into his muscles while you rake your teeth over your lower lip. Erwin fills you deeper this way and being the gracious, giving lover he truly is, waits for you to get comfortable. With legs bent, you push snugly against Erwin’s outer thighs. Letting him know he’s trapped in your confines with a mischievous grin.

“I’m going to take you now, Erwin Smith.”

His eyes widen, brows ticking up. Eliciting a whine from his lips. Sure, you’re both in a new position but when did the fucking roles reverse? And why is he even more aroused?

“That so? Show me how it’s done, pretty girl.”

The little flicker of submission warms your belly. Pawing at him to sit up more, Erwin’s arms embrace you, flush and firm against your back with his hands tangling into your hair. Gaining a steady balance between rocking, bouncing, and Erwin fucking up into your cunt, he lowers his mouth to your collarbone. Teeth a menace across your skin.

“It’s too good… ‘s too good."

You try to breathe, moans and whimpers continuing as you bring a breast to his mouth for his tongue to swirl around your nipple. He sucks, releases, and pushes with his tongue, before taking it again gently between his teeth until your breast pops from his mouth. He waits to shower the other one, but you softly collide your forehead against his and lock eyes.

Erwin’s hands release your hair and completely wrap around you, pressing you hard against him. Hip movements cajoling your body to give into the pleasure so you can cum together. Your clenching is more frequent, and it doesn’t take his astuteness to know you’re close to that sweet surrender.

“Erwin—” you cry out. The coils twisting, winding; orgasm brewing. Too tight and it hurts.

His nose tips against yours, eyes unwavering. His balls feel tight as his own release is teetering on the precipice.

“Where d'you want me? Tell me where—”

“Inside, inside." You urge, knowing you're on your birth control. "Please. Still on it.”

Erwin catches on quickly to your meaning. “Well, since you asked so sweetly.”

Those lips of his meet yours again and your body snaps, world exploding into fragments of glowing light behind your tightly clamped eyes. His grip tightens across your back, holding you into him, and pressing himself into you. The tip of Erwin’s tongue brushes your lips, insists entrance despite your haze, and you open enough to let him in, welcoming the urgent thrusting that sends a blaze of sweltering flames racing throughout your body.

You melt into a pool of wetness and love.

Your fingertips graze the nape of his neck, coming to play with the ends of his hair. Peppering kisses along his neck and tender underside of Erwin’s jaw that’s salty to the taste. He fucks up harder into you, if that’s possible, and the sound of his skin smacking against yours turns to a drumming in his ears as his orgasm rips through him. Spilling his load into you, Erwin groans as he does so.

Rolling both of you back onto the bed, and hiking one of your legs up, Erwin shoves his pointer and middle finger inside of you. Deliberate, forceful. Every bit of his cum will stay inside, despite the large load.

“Lick,” Erwin says, reaching his fingers to your mouth. “Taste the mess we made.”

Through your heavily lidded gaze you stare at his long, thick fingers that glimmer with both of your fluids. Taking them in your mouth, you rift them apart with your tongue making sure to lap up the mess in-between, too. With what little strength he has left, Erwin pushes his blonde hair damp with sweat out of his face before sucking your saliva off his fingers.

After he’s caught his breath, your dashingly handsome boyfriend—or is it fiancé now—stumbles to fetch a warm washcloth and water. Smirking, you tilt in your bed to watch him cross your living room to the bathroom. Damn he’s got a nice ass, you think while you wait.

Erwin helps you clean up, shutting down your protests to that you can do it yourself. Taking great care to gently wipe, for aftercare he takes seriously. Only when he feels done sufficiently enough does he insist on a shower where he pays extra attention to getting you both clean, massages your scalp, and lightly scolds you for dipping your sneaky fingers down his back to squeeze that ass of his.

“Don’t tempt me.” He thinly warns, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. Peeking down at you with one eye open, he catches your sleepy grin, fluttering eyes, and a calmness settles in his gut.

The hot water soothes your aches, while he relaxes with you in his arms, letting steam fog up the small bathroom for longer than you both ought to.

After a quick dinner and freshly replaced sheets, you both tangle into one another; a heap of limbs. He doesn’t mind your damp hair on his chest as he twirls a strand before skimming his fingers down your arm dotingly. His eyelids grow heavy, but he has enough energy to kiss the top of your head.

“I love you,” he mumbles.

The next morning, the soft sunlight peeks into your room through your curtains and warms your face. There’s also a heater behind you, one hand draping over you and cupping your breast. You rock giddily, encompassed in a feathery, frothy coziness.

“I love you, too.” It’s a quiet response as you snuggle closer into Erwin’s side where a velvety slumber lulls you.

-

The events of last night unfold in your mind and you reach up to lay your hand on top of Erwin’s who stirs, lips seeking out your shoulder, brushing back and forth. That light touch sends shivers to your nerves.

“What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?”

How fitting. You laugh and turn to face him, eyes basking his awaken form. “Please don’t quote Shakespeare this early.”

“That’s fair,” he rejoices in your laughter by joining. “But I’ll have you know—"

You reach up and gently pull him down to you. The rest of his words being lost against your lips. You should brush your teeth first, wash your face, but when Erwin groans low in his throat circling you in his arms, gathering you into his chest, you can forgo freshening up for the day for a little while longer.

After spending the morning revering one another, Erwin fills you in on an idea he has.

“How about on our way to pick you out a ring, we pass out flowers?”

Bumping your nose to his, you slowly blink. Heart filling with even more affection for him.

“I’d love that.”

Clothed and tidied, you both head down to your shop and accumulate a bouquet. Erwin is the first to exit, flowers in hand, but you tell him you’ll be out in one second. Sitting prettily on the back counter is your dreamy bouquet. And as your face softens you get an idea, heading to a particular flower that’s so happy it literally calls out to you.

Leaning on the building, Erwin’s eyes flit over to you before the yellow petals of the flower you possess.

“First one should be yours.”

He takes it courteously, leaning to firmly kiss your temple while you lock up shop.

“Who knew you were such a sap?” He jokes as you walk down the sidewalk, disappearing into the Saturday morning crowds.

Deep down Erwin knows he’ll always be thankful for that very first sunflower.