an: a past anon request from my old blog. It was a song prompt event and the song they gave me for erwin was 'the king - sarah kingsley' (I will link it beneath the short fic if you wanna listen) 💜
pairing: erwin smith x female reader
warnings: nsfw, fluff and feelings, a lil hurt/comfort, canon au, unprotected sex, divider by@/cursed-carmine (wc: 0.4k)
There was a storm rumbling outside; lightning flashed behind the heavy drapes and thunder followed behind with a sound akin to solid ground being split apart. It couldn’t dampen your mood, the afterglow of intimacy still warm on your skin.
Erwin’s arm wound further around your waist, pulling you closer to him and kissing the crown of your head.
“A penny for your thoughts?” He asked lowly, his nose buried in your hair.
Your eyes slowly closed, enjoying the warmth of his chest and toying with the blond hair decorating the expanse, leading lower and lower until it reached where the sheets covered him. How did you explain your thoughts without sounding morose?
You opted for honesty. “Just thinking.”
“You don’t say,” Erwin chuckled, settling back with an arm resting behind his head. “Elaborate, my dear, or I’ll begin to worry.”
I never want this to end. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. What does the future hold? Will we survive it?
None of that passed your lips.
It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. You didn’t need to hear the answers, especially given that Erwin was not one to soften the blow of his words. He wouldn’t want to upset you, but he wouldn’t lie either.
“Can’t I enjoy the patter of the rain on the windowpanes and the beat of your heart instead?” You followed up your request with the swirl of your finger, deliberately catching the edges of his nipple and listening to his breath catching in his throat.
Quick as a flash, you found yourself rolled to your back. Erwin’s nose brushed along the slope of yours, his mouth quirking into a subtle smile. You could feel him against every part of your body, his erection returning to press insistently between the mess still coating the inside of your thighs.
“My darling, my love… I swear to you that I will be with you always,” he murmured hotly against your ear. “Now please, get out of your head and back into my—arms.”
The last word was punctuated by the blunt tip of his cock lodging into you. Your nails scouring his shoulders as your head tipped back against the pillows.
He was your anchor when you needed it most.
Your comforting presence in the pitch of the night.
“I love you,” you sighed breathlessly.
Erwin kissed your already kiss-swollen lips, only breaking apart to murmur a reply. “I love you more.”
story summary: Omegas had never been allowed within the ranks of the Scout Regiment, that was until Erwin took over as Commander. Now, it’s commonplace for Alphas and Omegas to work side by side and harmony has prevailed.
That is until one Omega slips up and triggers their first ever heat, that Omega is you…
“Shh, little one. Let me take care of you like you asked. Your skin is divine to touch… soft and smooth. It makes me want to bite it all over,” he admitted. “If you were mine, I would—” Erwin let the sentence falter, not knowing if it was wise to admit exactly what he would do if you were his. Nor did he want to admit just how badly he wanted you to be his.
pairing: Alpha Erwin Smith x Omega female reader
word count: 10.1k (brings snacks and get comfy)
warnings: omegaverse AU, no mention of titans, abundant mentions of heats/ruts, boss/subordinate dynamic, knotting, breeding kink, biting kink, aggression surrounding reader (they remain safe throughout), scenting, protector Erwin, internal conflict, mini appearances of Hange and Levi, spit, mounting, look… it’s a lot of smut and smutty thoughts all the way through 😆
thanks to @/littlefreak-1 for volunteering to beta read this behemoth
Before Commander Smith had taken over The Scout Regiment, Omegas had not been allowed to serve within the division. The school of thought was generally that it would not be safe for any Omega to be around a military division largely occupied by Alphas, and not just any Alphas, but some of the strongest and most ferocious.
Erwin disagreed with that idea.
“If any of my soldiers cannot control their nature and act accordingly around an Omega then they do not belong in my ranks. We must protect those that cannot protect themselves and do so without appearing superior. No Scout worth their salt would dare defy me.”
He recalled the stunned silence he was met with when he laid out his reasoning for the draft of new recruits he was bringing into the Scouts. Even his closest ally, Pyxis, had glanced at him with doubtful eyes and a twitching moustache.
It was a brave decision, and he knew that. However, history would not tell the tales of the meek and whilst Commander Smith was not looking for fame or glory, he was certain that this generation of Scouts would become infamous. He would ensure it was for good reason and not from disgrace.
From that moment, Omegas were welcomed into the ranks and two years of peace and harmony ensued.
~
“What seems to be the problem?” Hange asked, lifting their gaze from the clipboard in their hand to peer at you over the rim of their glasses.
“You’re not a doctor. Where’s Doctor Hamilton?”
Hange clicked their teeth and rolled their eyes in exasperation. “She’s out sick. I might not have a doctorate in medicine, but I am the best we have as a stand in until she returns. I have several other patients to see so I suggest you ‘chop chop’ and tell me what you need.” They made a chopping motion with their hands, and you wanted to die right then and there.
This was exactly what you didn’t need.
Hange couldn’t know. They mustn’t know why you were here. You couldn’t afford to be turfed back into the monotonous boredom of clerking for the Military Police. There were only so many transcripts of interrogations of clearly wrongfully imprisoned patsies you could write up.
You had your limits and to go back to ‘The Pen’ as it was not-so-affectionately called, would be enough for you to consider calling your career in the military quits altogether. Then what would your mother say?
The thought of her smug expression and the ‘I told you so’ that would be written plainly across her face was enough to sour the contents of your stomach. She couldn’t understand your desire to venture even a toe out of the safety of the MP and their dedicated Omega squad. It was like being herded sheep. Every second you had hated, once again being judged on only your position on the ladder of power.
When the opportunity for non-alphas to join the ranks of the Scout Regiment arose two years ago, you had worked diligently to secure a transfer. It had not been easy, but was anything worth fighting for ever easy?
It had been nearly a full year since your new post begun and, in your time here, you had never felt more fulfilled in your whole life. You had a job that you didn’t hate, you felt like you were actually making a difference, and most importantly, you had friends. Real, true friends that were not simply others considered of the same social standing.
More so, your most recent post had put you directly into the path of a man you had admired quietly from afar for many many years… Commander Smith was everything you could ever want in a man.
That last thought surprised you, although you had long admitted it to yourself. It was not your place to lust after a man of such high stature, especially not the man in charge of the entire division and your direct superior. What surprised you was that you had allowed it to escape into the frantic hive of your mind.
It was something you had been suppressing since taking the promoted post as Commander Smith’s new personal assistant. You had made a vow to yourself that you would keep your wicked—carnal—thoughts about the blond hulk of an Alpha to yourself. Work was work and the filthy fantasies that played out when you were laying in bed in deepest nighttime were between you and your poor overused vibrator.
“It... doesn’t matter,” you said, standing abruptly.
“Uh, no no. Sit your butt back down and tell me why you asked for this appointment. I was told you indicated it was an emergency,” Hange countered with a frown.
They moved to block your view of the door, eyes narrowing at how you were obviously considering a dash for the exit. This was not helping. A flush ran the course of your spine and spread over your head. Another minute or two and sweat would be leaking from your pores as if you had just emerged from a sauna.
“Fever?” Hange asked curiously.
“Yes! I mean, yes, a fever... that’s it. I think I’m coming down with something.” You clutched at the lifeline they had unwittingly thrown.
Hange reached for a thermometer and the stethoscope laying on the orderly doctor’s desk. They approached slowly, the reassuring smile doing nothing to calm the racing pulse which would be discovered all too soon. They took the necessary measurements and drew back with their nose scrunched.
“It’s none of my business, but a word of advice — you might want to consider using less perfume. The smell is a little overpowering and what with us having a keen sense of smell, it’s probably not wise.”
Oh.
“R-right, sorry,” you stammered shyly.
If Hange only knew the truth of it.
This perfume was the only thing masking the first bloom of your scent. It was faint right now, but soon it would be so potent that Alphas from miles away would catch a whiff on the wind if it was in blowing in the right direction.
There had never been an expectation for Omegas to mask in the Scouts. Suppressants were not a mandated requirement to work here, and as far as you were aware, there had never been any incidents of Alphas overstepping. Of course, things like that could have been kept hush hush from the lowly subordinates, but there was something inherently honest in everyone you had dealings with here in Trost.
You did choose to suppress; a decision you were no longer entirely at ease with. Growing up it had been expected; the monthly injections and daily medication started the very second you entered adolescence. It was tedious.
Perhaps that was why you found yourself in this current predicament—out of suppressants and your monthly injection days away from expiration. Were you subconsciously rebelling?
The more you considered it, the more it made sense. You were in your late twenties now and the thought of experiencing what was meant to be a large part of your societal culture and physiological needs… it didn’t disgust you as it once had when you were younger.
It was just a shame that the only Alpha you wanted was well and truly out of reach.
“Alrighty then. Your core temperature is slightly elevated but not enough for me to be overly concerned. There is no noise on your chest and apart from your pulse being a little quick...” They paused, cutting a curious glance in your direction and making you jump from your wayward thoughts. “I think the best course of action would be a day of bedrest and plenty of hydration. If it gets worse come back and we’ll see about referring the symptoms to Doctor Hamilton for antibiotics to be prescribed.”
Nodding fervently, you stood quickly and surreptitiously steadied your balance with a palm on the wall beside you. The need to be out of this too small room was clawing nails down your skin, a wave of dizziness draining the blood from your face which thankfully went unnoticed as Hange became far more interested in a manilla folder in their hands.
“Thanks. I appreciate you seeing me on short notice, please send my regards to Doctor Hamilton.”
You had never dashed so swiftly to your quarters, only breathing a long sigh of relief once the door was closed behind your back and the lock clicked into place. Slowly, you slid to the floor and curled your arms around your knees.
What am I going to do?
Something stirred inside the depths of your brain, an entity shrouded in sleepy shackles that were ready to snap at any moment. A pulse of heat erupted in your stomach then vanished as fast as it had arrived. You sensed a smile stretching wide in anticipation.
Sleep found you surprisingly easily that night, all your anxieties melting away into insignificance as your body prepared for what was coming. Your silly concerns mattered not to your beastly side, they needed you fresh faced and in peak physical condition.
Your first heat was coming, there would be nothing to stop it this time.
~
Erwin drummed his fingers on the polished cherry wood desk. He was already bored to tears by the man droning on and on about... something or other. Truth be told, he had tuned out soon after the speech started. For this was absolutely a speech and not the informal conversation that had been sold to him initially.
His cool blue eyes glanced to the corner to watch you scribbling furiously on a secretary’s pad, your tongue between your teeth in concentration. He did not envy you this task, especially when he was certain you were under the weather.
“I’m fine, Commander. Please don’t relieve me from duty, I need something to focus on and we both know you don’t want to have to listen to Commander Dok. I’ll scribe just fine, I swear it!”
Erwin was fond of you, more so than he wished to admit.
Only recently had you taken over as his personal secretary when the previous one had retired from active service after finding their mate, a feat he was more than happy to witness since it was far from guaranteed in the world they lived in.
He enjoyed your sharp wit and dedication to the Scouts. Your smile had a way of lighting up the room, although he was certain that was not something he should have taken note of. You were young and enthusiastic, bright eyed and bushy tailed as some might say.
Shakily, you pushed strands of hair that had fallen into your eyes back behind your ear and he felt a deep crease form between his eyebrows. Now that he was looking at you closely, he could see a thin sheen of sweat decorating your skin.
He had to do something, and now.
“Nile, I must apologise for interrupting,” he interjected, lifting a placating hand, “but I have another engagement that I must attend to. I had no idea you wished to take up so much of my time or I would have scheduled a longer appointment. However, given that nothing you have mentioned is especially pressing, I will endeavour to meet with you again next week. How does that sound?”
Nile bristled at being dismissed so readily. “You’ll never not be a pain in my arse, Erwin Smith.”
“Ahem, no need to include that in the transcript,” Erwin said jovially, casting a twinkling smile in your direction which was not returned, much to his disappointment.
Another twenty minutes was spent negotiating with Nile, off record, before the man finally departed. When the office door finally closed, Erwin watched as your posture relaxed and your arm fell limp to your side with the pen still dangling between your fingertips.
“You’re sick,” he stated matter-of-factly.
The Commander rose from his chair and stalked closer, eyeing you carefully to assess your condition. He stopped a few feet from you, sniffing subtly before shaking his head. He was being ridiculous. He had to be.
Your eyes cracked opened slowly to roam around the room before landing on his midsection and rose up up up until you met his piercing blue gaze. If he didn’t know better, he would say you were under the influence of alcohol or something far more illicit. A glaze coated your eyes and turned them… sultry.
Erwin stiffened; his spine lengthened, and his stance fell back to one of familiarity from years in the military. He couldn’t help but watch your chest rise and fall, the rhythm unnaturally fast and it only drew his attention to the top three buttons of your blouse, ones that were normally fastened but were not today.
He should stop.
“I know you said you needed something to focus on, but I cannot have you falling over at your desk. Consider yourself on bedrest for the rest of the week—”
“But Sir! I’m fine,” you interrupted loudly. The shock of his words jolted you upright in your seat and nearly had you toppling out of it altogether just as he had warned.
“Since when do you answer back to your superior like that? This is highly uncharacteristic from you, and I refuse to allow it to continue. You are relieved of all duties until Monday morning, do you hear me?”
He hated being strict when you were so obviously out of sorts. This was not behaviour he had come to expect from you, along with his growing affection, he silently cursed himself when your eyes turned red and misty.
Standing, your head bowed in submission. “Yes, Commander. I apologise for my outburst.”
Erwin clicked his tongue against his teeth and despite thinking better of it, he raised his hand so that two fingers slid beneath your chin. “There is no need for that. All I ask is for you to get better, okay?”
It was a mistake, but one he only realised once it was too late.
A soft purr seemed to emanate from your chest, an enticing sound the likes of which he had not had the pleasure of hearing for the longest time. Erwin pulled his hand back like he had been scorched. The heat of your skin increased tenfold, and for a moment he had the desire to look at his fingertips to see if they did in fact sizzle like how they felt.
He watched you leave; dumbstruck and frozen to the spot as if he had taken root on the antique rug beneath him. It had been so long since he had first-hand experience of an Omega approaching a heat that he almost dismissed the signs as figments of his imagination.
However, the animal inside would not be so gullible.
~
That evening and the following day were a total blur.
You had no real clue how much time had passed since you were dismissed by Commander Erwin, neither did you know what time of day it was currently.
All you knew was that you were too hot and that even the thinnest bedsheet was too much for your overheating body. You writhed atop your mattress, naked and unbearably uncomfortable. The cotton from the fitted sheet was clammy from your sweat, droplets rushing from places you never dreamed of.
For the millionth time, your hands passed over your body and you hissed like a wounded animal when you grazed the stiff peaks of your nipples. You tweaked at them in turn, the painful pleasure echoing between your legs…
Speaking of which, your cunt was completely soaked.
After ruining four consecutive pairs of underwear with the rivers of slick flowing easily from your aching hole, you had endeavoured to remain entirely naked. Nature was preparing you for the only thing that would calm your mind, lift the fog that had descended and satiate your body. The abundance of lubrication present to help your Alpha ease into your body, to feed you their cock and eventually their knot with minimal discomfort.
Except, you didn’t have an Alpha.
It was funny how you knew the symptoms and process of a heat, but the theory was nothing compared to experiencing them first hand. You had no idea how those who chose not to suppress dealt with this routinely. It felt like hot knives were carving through your insides, shredding you apart until you didn’t recognise yourself. The reflection in the mirror would be someone—something else.
Distantly, you heard knocks coming from the door to your quarters, but you paid it little attention. It wasn’t like you could walk the short distance to it anyway, nor were you in any state to answer. Voices followed the knocks which grew in determination.
Hange, maybe? You couldn’t be sure. Although, you wouldn’t put it past Commander Smith to send someone to check in on you, especially if he discovered you had visited the temporary doctor recently as well as your outburst in his office.
All you could do was roll over onto your side and press your palm between your thighs, stimulating the bundle of nerves with the heel of your hand in an effort to ease the continuous throbbing sensation. You screwed your eyes shut, the black of your eyelids turning into a kaleidoscope of colours until they formed a figure—a figure you were well acquainted with—and had no right to be thinking about in this context.
Commander Erwin Smith’s silhouette shook like a desert mirage until it thickened and materialised in your mind’s eye. If you strained enough, you could smell the scent of his understated cologne and beneath that, his unique musk that was all him.
Those natural pheromones that dominated all others and highlighted his status as Alpha. Not just any Alpha, but one of the most powerful Alphas in Trost. The Alpha you admired the most if you let the little voice in your head speak freely.
Your nose twitched again, and your eyes shot wide as you realised it was stronger when you moved your head closer to the edge of the bed.
On the floor lay your blouse and skirt, the ones you had worn during his meeting with Commander Dok. Without hesitation, you grabbed up the blouse and held it beneath your nose to inhale deeply.
There it was.
A spicy scent unlike any other. It was warming and comforting, for the first time in, you didn’t know how long, you could breathe a little easier and the heavy feeling in your heart and gut lightened. You nuzzled the blouse. Holding it against each cheek in turn before returning it to your nose.
Why couldn’t you scent it directly from his skin? It wasn’t fair. You could bury your nose in the hollow of his throat. Lick lazily at the prominent bob of his Adam’s apple. Grind your feverish body against his until he was hard and ready to take you.
You should stop pretending.
Gods… what were you doing?
There was no denying the primal desires swirling like a building vortex in your brain. You wanted to be full, stretched to the breaking point. You needed to be bred like the good little Omega you were. You wanted a knot so badly you could cry.
None of these were thoughts you had experienced before and had you been in your right mind, they would have shocked you right down to the core.
Delicate shaky fingers sought out your aching hole, two slipping easily past the ring of muscles until your knuckles were lodged against the gumminess of your walls, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
Without an Alpha here to pin you down and split you wide, you would suffer. Without Erwin here to smother you with his impressive weight, you would continue to feel bereft. Wronged by a universe that danced to its own tune without thought for those affected.
Yes, it would pass eventually, but you doubted your sanity would be intact when that time finally arrived. A hurt-sounding howl escaped your throat, a lament aimed at a world that was proving to be unfair and unjust.
With a final wail, you curled in on yourself and fell into a pain-filled sleep. All the while, the commotion on the other side of your quarters door continued unabated.
~
Erwin had not needed to be notified of the ruckus kicking off in the living quarters assigned to secretarial and support personnel. He could hear it from all the way in his office. At first, he assumed it would be dealt with as all other little scuffles were, but after ten minutes, his concern heightened.
He was met with a very red-faced soldier whom he could not recall the name of. “Commander! We have a situation. Captain Levi sent me to find you… there is, well—”
“Spit it out, we don’t have all day.” Erwin demanded, barely halting in his purposeful strides in the direction of the noise. He could hear arguing, but almost above the rabble, a soft howl of distress caught his attention. It sounded familiar, and his pace quickened.
“An Omega… they are going into a heat. It seems to have riled those living in close proximity.”
Erwin stalled. “What?”
Fury bleed from his pores. Had they all lost their damn minds? This wasn’t the first heat to happen since Erwin’s command, and there had never been this level of disorder. He rounded the final corner and was confronted by six men in various states of dress, some with visible injuries on their faces and hands and at the door which he assumed led to the Omega in question, Levi stood on an overturned chair looking equal parts haughty and furious.
“Enough!” Erwin bellowed over the heated voices. “Pull yourselves together or I will be forced to take further action.”
An awkward silence descended almost immediately. The power of his voice along with the blast of authority he projected towards the troublemakers was more than enough to have their metaphorical tails lying limp between their legs.
“About damn time,” Levi snarled.
He leapt to the floor and shouldered past two engineers with matching bruises blooming purple beneath their eyes. They dared to bare their teeth, but remained silent, nonetheless. Levi seemed oblivious, or more likely he considered them so far removed from a threat that he took no note.
Levi’s eyes cut up to Erwin, an eyebrow arching at the high blush that was slowly coating the Commander’s cheeks. He knew what had caused the pandemonium and what shamed him the most was his inability to remain unaffected.
A first heat.
They were special for most Omegas and could be extremely traumatising if not handled delicately and in the right way. From experience, Erwin knew that it was commonplace for Omegas who were unattached to seek out help from other Omegas in their family or close friends. They could ride out the worst of the heat whilst knowing they were safe and being cared for, but this… he couldn’t imagine what they were going through whilst trapped in a den of literal wolves.
“You can smell it, right?” Levi whispered out of earshot of the others. “It’s a first heat and I must be honest; I am barely hanging on myself. Hange sought me out when they couldn’t raise an answer at the door, and by the time we returned… well, this was the scene. Some of the men were tearing at each other to get to the door and they had started to break it in places. Apparently, she presented at the clinic three days ago under the guise of a fever, Hange now suspects that they were suppressing and had run out of the drugs. She seemed unwilling to admit it to Hange, perhaps because they are an Alpha and Doctor Hamilton is not.”
A fever? Oh no. With alarming clarity, the puzzle pieces fell into place. Erwin knew why the howl he had heard seemed familiar, why the scent of arousal mingled with pheromones tickled his nose in such a way that he was struggling to stop himself from huffing the air like the men now forcibly being returned to their rooms.
It was his sweet little personal assistant. You weren’t sick, you were in need, and he could help you.
No! He mustn’t. He would control himself, but he could at least ensure you were safe.
“You there,” he gestured to the bloodied men who were starting to disperse. “Find cots in the dormitory for tonight, I cannot trust that you won’t try this again and I will personally cut down anyone who tries to enter these quarters without express permission. Captain Levi will escort you.”
Erwin turned to Levi and ignored the scowl emblazoned across his face. “See that the dormitories are guarded by those you trust the most and have everyone in this part of the wing relocated for the next night or two.”
“Don’t go in there, Erwin.” Levi’s warning was barely above a whisper.
The Commander clapped a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder and moved past him towards the barely intact door. “And Levi? Ask Miche to replace this door within the hour,” he asked calmly without acknowledging the words of warning, stepping directly into the breach.
For once he wasn’t going toe to toe with powerful enemies, he was facing a different beast altogether and somehow, he was more nervous about this situation than any battle he had participated in…
Your small apartment space was orderly with minimal decorations, but he noted a family photograph nailed to the wall and an arrangement of plush cushions resembling animals piled up on the cramped little couch.
His gaze swivelled absently around the room, in truth, he was doing everything in his power not to make a direct line for the bedroom. Your scent hung like thick molasses now that he was inside, hands fisting by his sides to remain where he stood. Erwin was the master of his body, not his instincts but the fight was not a fair one on this occasion.
He had never smelled anything quite as inviting, and that was entirely the problem. Whilst, he had had partners in the past, even gone through a heat or two, none of them tempted him in the way he felt tempted right this second. It was as if the scent was visible on the air, seductive tendrils writhing around him and beckoned him to move closer to the source.
It was as if all his favourite sweet treats from his childhood had melted into one tantalising scent crafted especially for him. Saliva gathered behind his clenched teeth. German chocolate cake. Fire roasted marshmallow. Raspberry jam straight from the jar. He wanted to drink it down like a man discovering a bountiful oasis after days without water. It made him feel younger, though he was hardly past his prime, but the scent invigorated his heart until he was certain he could best the top cadet in a foot race.
If someone told him that the vapour was tickling him beneath the chin, he would believe it.
After several moments of calming breaths which did little to actually calm his nerves, Erwin dared to venture deeper. He told himself that he needed to assess your condition, which was true, but if his instincts could speak, they would announce loudly their desire to catch a whiff of your scent directly from the honeypot.
The bedroom was dark, though it mattered little given his ability to see well in low lighting, and what he saw on the bed, stopped his heart for what felt like a full minute. A huddled mass lay in the very centre, your body in the foetal position with a hand buried between your legs and the other arm covering your naked breasts.
He should look away.
He should stop staring at your skin glistening with dewdrops of sweat and sticky slick pooling beneath you.
He should cover your vulnerability and walk away, leave this to someone else, but there was no one he trusted to handle this situation in his stead.
Your breathing was even and deep, a blessing given your predicament. As voices approached in the hallway outside, Erwin snapped out of his drunken stupor and did the first thing that came to mind. He pulled off his jacket and laid it over your body. It barely reached mid-thigh, but it would do.
With your modesty protected, somewhat, he retreated to oversee the work on your door being replaced. What he didn’t see was the smile of contentment on your face and the visible relief of being draped in his scent loosening the tight ache of your muscles.
In sleep you burrowed into the jacket warmed by his blood.
~
It was the sound of pages being turned in a book that roused you. It shouldn’t have, given how carefully the reader was being to not make noise, but the ache in your gut had returned and the fatigue was no longer severe enough to allow you to sleep on.
For a long moment you kept your eyes carefully closed, wondering what it was that weighed so nicely over your body and kept the worst of your current dilemma at bay. It felt like being held by a loved one, as if you were young once more and your mother was wrapping you in her protective and caring embrace.
“You’re awake.”
Commander Smith’s rich baritone rumbled from somewhere behind you. It froze the very blood in your veins until another wave of desire pulsed through you, causing you to writhe and buck, to your shame. Not him. Anyone but him.
Lies! You want him most of all… don’t deny it.
You couldn’t look at him—not now. Instead, you steeled your voice and spoke to the wall. “Commander Smith… why are you in my bedroom?”
“I apologise if you have the wrong impression, however, my presence was rather necessary given your… predicament,” Erwin supplied, sounding more uneasy than you had ever heard him. “I must be honest with you because that is only fair.”
He sighed and the sound caused a moan to bubble inside your throat, barely caught before it slipped out. Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you waited for him to continue not only because you needed to know, but the sound of his voice soothed you in ways you didn’t wish to examine closer.
“Your heat triggered some displays of aggression amongst your neighbours. There may have been attempts made at getting to you, but do not worry,” Erwin stressed when he saw how you tensed on the bed. “Your door has been replaced, and I will personally ensure your safety until it has passed.”
“Aggression? You’re telling me that—oh fuck.” All rational thought and ability to speak coherently died on a single spasm between your thighs. You should be absolutely appalled that anyone had tried to get inside your quarters without permission, but that animalistic instinct reared its head and grinned wickedly into the dark space of your mind.
It was what you needed. To be taken, filled, consumed… bred.
“Don’t speak right now, it’ll pass so just breathe for me,” Erwin coaxed softly whilst the sound of a chair creaked as it was dragged across a wooden floor. “A first heat can be very difficult. I assume you have suppressed since adolescence—you don’t need to answer. I-I don’t have any personal experience to draw upon, but I will do whatever it takes to help you through this.”
Fuck me… you thought, enraged that you wanted it so badly that you were chewing your lips bloody from speaking it aloud. Your spine bowed at the ripples of heat spreading outward from your centre to the ends of your fingers and toes, to the top of your head.
“Can you walk? I’ve run a lukewarm bath which might help cool you down.”
“No. Commander—you shouldn’t…” You broke off on a sob, wracked with another wave of scorching fire attacking the insides of your thighs at the steady drip of slick covering your skin.
“Please, it’s Erwin. Given the situation, I don’t think formalities are necessary right now. I’m going to lift you into my arms, okay? I’ll be gentle and you may hold on as tightly as you need to. Once I’ve got you in the bath, I will step outside to give you some privacy.”
The bath water was just cool enough that you sighed happily as the water sloshed over you. It was no comparison to the relief you felt whilst held in Erwin’s careful arms, but simply thinking of how easily your arms had wound around his neck gave you shivers of a completely different kind.
You did your best to refute all those lustful thoughts from months of working closely with the Commander. Of course, you hadn’t noticed how broad his shoulders were or how the short undercut at the nape of his neck tickled your fingertips when you held on. Nope. Nada.
Your nose was growing at an alarming rate with all this lying.
Through drooped lids you watched whilst he glanced around your meagre bathroom looking for goodness knows what. He was too large, too imposing for such a cramped space but despite it all, you liked him in here—wanted him to stay.
Where others may have taken full advantage of having a naked Omega within reach, not to mention an Omega in heat, Erwin had shown you nothing but diligent care. It made you wonder if your state bothered him at all, and somehow the thought that it might not… well, that bothered you.
He was an Alpha; shouldn’t he want you?
“Stay… please?” You purred when he made to exit and give you the privacy he had promised.
Erwin paused in the doorway. His piercing artic eyes roamed your face and dipped towards the fluttering pulse in your neck but ventured no further. You could see the tic in his cheek work at the same time his jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. He was fighting himself.
One soapy hand reached for his clenched fist, bubbles dripping across his knuckles until the fingers finally—finally—loosened and gently entwined with yours.
“I shouldn’t,” he breathed more to himself.
You hummed in a half agreement, bolstered by the need thrumming through your body. “But you will, won’t you? Sit here.”
Erwin awkwardly perched on the corner of the tub before reaching for the towel he had laid out for you to wipe his wet hand. There were wrinkles in his normally crisp shirt, the top buttons unfastened and the bolo tie that rested around his throat suspiciously absent. This was by far the most casual you had been afforded to see him. You guessed not many had received such a luxury.
“Does it hurt?” he asked whilst he began to roll his sleeves towards the bend at his elbows. It was hard to follow the movements given he was sat near your shoulder, but you twisted enough to keep some of him in view, sloshing water in the process.
You took a second to assess, listening to the competing demands being screamed in your mind and body. This was certainly the most lucid you had felt since the heat had started, and you had an inkling that Erwin’s presence had a lot to do with it.
Would you ever be able to express your gratitude?
In short, yes it did hurt. However, there was a will to prove that you were not so easily overcome or beaten down. A sly voice echoed around your mind, purring and shunting you to ask for more of your Commander—far more than you had any right to.
“Not badly, I guess. But you could make it better… if you were inclined to. I think I would like it very much,” you urged gently, once more finding his hand and leading it towards the rippling surface of the bath.
Erwin didn’t stop you.
He didn’t seem to breathe or blink. Blindly, he allowed for his fingers to skim the water before breaking the surface and slipping over the wet flesh covering your shoulder. His cock strained against his underwear and trousers; the rigid length trapped along his thigh whilst thick pearls of precum oozed out to stain the heavy fabric.
He had been aroused since he first identified your scent, more so when he felt your heat descend over his like a vaporous fog. Finding you naked in bed had not fed his desire, if anything, it infuriated him and roused his protective nature.
Now that you were awake and calm enough to speak without letting out whines of distress or angry expletives… now he was truly struggling to maintain his composure.
“Do you have any idea what you are asking of me?” he murmured, wet fingertips tracing swirling patterns over your collarbone and across your clavicle. One pad dipped into the hollow of your throat, eliciting a soft moan that nearly broke him.
If you responded, he didn’t hear it.
You were sweltering to the touch; the lightly perfumed oil he had added to the water slicked your skin so the journey down your chest was made all the easier. His fingers skirted over the mounds of your breasts, avoiding your nipples although you did your best to thrust upward and force his hand so to speak.
Erwin’s tongue clicked against his teeth in a commanding tsk. “Behave.”
He continued to explore you, slowly and methodically. It was bliss. It was torture. Your head rested against the tiled backsplash; eyes closed as you concentrated solely on the sensation of his hand on you. Erwin traced the sides of your breasts down to your soft stomach; he circled your navel then ventured back up to give attention to your neglected nipples.
His breathing was more of pant when he tweaked your tender little nub between a rough finger and thumb. Your eyebrows creased when he pulled it taut and tugged firmly, the echo of the sensation causing your clit to throb in unison. It was difficult not to wriggle but you wanted to be good for him, to behave as he had asked.
“Com—Erwin… please? It hurts so bad.”
“Shh, little one. Let me take care of you like you asked. Your skin is divine to touch… soft and smooth. It makes me want to bite it all over,” he admitted. “If you were mine, I would—” Erwin let the sentence falter, not knowing if it was wise to admit exactly what he would do if you were his. Nor did he want to admit just how badly he wanted you to be his.
“You would… what?” You tried to cajole, moving just enough so that his fingertips brushed the opposite nipple, and you let out a long exhale of relief.
He couldn’t deny you, not in this matter or any other, not right now. It was funny how there was a systemic flaw in society’s hierarchy. Alphas were meant to be the ones on top, but it wasn’t always true and especially not for those who found their mates. Omegas held the power and never was it more evident than this moment here.
Erwin Smith was your superior in the literal sense. He was the Commander of the Scout Regiment, and he held responsibility for every soldier and support worker under his command. Yet here he was in the tiny bathroom of his assistant—his direct subordinate—with his hand submerged to the elbow and his cock so hard he wanted to tear the damn thing off.
You held all the cards, and you didn’t even know it, because if you did then there was no way you wouldn’t have already pounced given the instincts running through you.
“I shouldn’t be saying this, but,” he enthused when you started to whine pitifully. “I would not have allowed for you to become as delirious as you did. It must have been agony, and you were alone—I don’t like that. Any heat can be torture to endure if you deny yourself the only plausible relief, not to mention this is your first. If you were my… mate.”
Erwin paused again; aware his hand had moved without his prior notice. He was cupping your cunt in his palms, stretching and flexing his thick fingers along the seam of your labia. With ease he sought and located your jittery bundle of nerves, circling the pad of his thumb with slow, deliberate strokes.
“Tell me, Commander— ‘wanna know how you’d treat your mate.”
“Mm. I’d have taken a leave of absence the second the signs of your cycle came to light. I’d bite that lovely creamy skin at your neck where the scent gland resides, hold you in my jaws whilst I fed my cock into your drenched cunt. I’d have loved you exactly as you deserve—worshipped every inch of your scorched skin with my mouth and hands. Whispered words of devotion into your ear until I was ready to give you my knot, and more importantly, when you were ready to take it. I’d have you come time and again until you were properly sated,” he admitted with a heated growl.
You mewled at the images he fed you, his words dripping with hungry conviction and accompanied by the ministrations of his skilful hand playing between your thighs like a damn savant.
Your imagination ran at full speed imagining the knot he would give you, of the painful pleasure from his sharpened teeth piercing the scent gland at your neck and how you wished it was the mating mark he was leaving you.
As two thick digits worked inside your aching, needy hole you thought of the fullness that would come with having his cockhead buried against the neck of your womb. Gods, you wanted to be split in half until his name was carved into your gummy walls. The searing heat of being stuffed to capacity that would be far more pleasurable, unlike the current stinging sensation you were experiencing.
You grasped at Erwin’s forearm and revelled at how the muscles flexed as he continued to pump two fingers into you, his thumb aggressively rubbing at your swollen pearl. It was just enough to bring you to the peak, the waters barely disrupted, Erwin working furiously but only from the wrist down.
“You’ve no idea how badly I want to climb into this damned tub and make you take me. I won’t. I swear it. I’ll protect you and keep you safe… from me. It’s okay. That’s it—there we go. Feel it consume you.”
He was babbling—switching rapidly between commanding and anxious. His large frame threw a shadow over you; bending more he buried his nose into your hair and inhaled deeply. You thought he might have whimpered but you were too far gone to be certain. Your nails dug bloody marks into his arm, encouraging him on until you gave one final shuddering spasm and broke apart like a star finally imploding.
Tears burned in your eyes. Your stomach contracted over and over whilst you rode out a high that didn’t last nearly as long as you had hoped it would. The desire in your gut rekindled like a dying fire fed oxygen.
What had been enough no longer was.
“Erwin… please. I’ll be so good for you, don’t hold back. I want—I need it all. Everything you described! The fullness. The bite. I want to feel your weight pressing me down, dominating me. Can you...? I just want to know what it’s like,” you wailed in utter misery, absolutely convinced that he would deny you.
“I’m a nobody,” you continued, releasing your grip on his arm to wipe at your tears. “I appreciate you even going this far. I’ll never be able to look you in the eye again, but I’ll always be grateful for this. You’re a good man, Commander Smith, I’ve admired you for years.”
His laughter warmed your heart just a little. It was robust and genuine, and whilst you wanted to turn and see for yourself what expression he wore, you didn’t want to witness pity—not from him. “You can go. Just leave me a towel and I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll sleep it off or—”
Erwin’s hand twitched and you almost yelped, biting into your tongue until you tasted coppery blood. His fingers slid along the wet pulsing length of your gummy walls and slowly rose from the water. You closed your eyes, turning away when you felt him rise to his feet.
You didn’t expect him to say anything.
You certainly didn’t expect two muscled arms to plunge into the waters and lift you up and out in one smooth action. Dripping wet from shoulders to toes, you soaked his pristine uniform shirt. Only then did you dare to peek up, and the look Erwin levelled at you… it stole your breath.
Those clever blue eyes were alight with cool fire—the flames licking around his swollen, lust-blown pupils. The thick set of his eyebrows were draw close together and he looked positively furious, but in a way that only made you squeeze your thighs together all the more.
“Don’t you ever—ever—call yourself a nobody. I may be the Commander here but behind every great figure are those in the shadows who make that figure shine brightly. My ma—I mean, my assistant is brave and beautiful,” he declared with absolute conviction.
Words alluded you.
Every single thought, other than the animal voice begging you to cling to this Alpha with every available ounce of strength and never let go, had fled. Not that you needed to speak, not when he strode from your bathroom with determined steps.
Erwin lowered you to the stained sheets of your bed and stood back with an apologetic look. “I’d offer to change them but there would be no point. We’d merely end up ruining a second set.”
The heat of your body had dried most of the water from your skin, all except the thick, tacky arousal coating your tender pussy and streaking the insides of your thighs. His head canted left when you spread your legs, bending at the knees so that he could see the most intimate part of you on full display.
“Little minx,” he teased with a wry smile. His fingers fumbled at the buckle of his belt and your gaze raked him in hungrily. “Warm yourself up for me, won’t you?”
There was no modicum of inhibition left in you. You were working on pure instinct and when you were told to warm yourself, you did just that. The heel of your palm rotated against your clit whilst you spread the lips of your pussy apart and let the fingertips fuck an inch into your cunt.
Your eyes remained glued to the man at the end of your bed. He was a powerhouse of strength and virility, thick chested and decorated with battle scars. You longed to run your fingers and tongue across each faded silvery scar—to show him just how much you appreciated his every sacrifice. Erwin shucked out of his trousers and underwear in record time, but it was not before you noted the large stains on both thighs. It made your smile turn saccharine, sultry and feminine.
The length of his cock sprung upward to smack wetly against his abdomen, but the weight was too much to stand, which left the impressive sight to hang heavily between his thighs. The golden hair on his torso seemed to glisten despite the lack of a light source in the room, and perhaps it was a trick of your eyes. He rolled his neck from side to side, never once breaking his concentration on how you were toying with yourself at his command.
He fisted his swollen cock, rolling the foreskin back until the beating red tip shone from the arousal dripping out the slit. Thick veins pulsed beneath his calloused fingers as he gave a few cursory pumps, moving his grip to his heavy pendulous balls to tug them loose from where they had nestled tightly near the base.
Muscles that only came with age, experience and dedication rolled beneath his skin, smattered by those lovely coarse hairs that you wanted to feel against your cheeks. Erwin was a handsome man, that you had always known, but naked he was even more glorious—a chiselled God.
Saliva pooled in your mouth, and you swore it seemed like your teeth elongated at the simple thought of biting into the solid wall that was his chest. His biceps. The cords in his neck. His strong jawline. Everything.
Your appreciation did not go unnoticed. If anything, it made his chest puff with pride that you would find him so attractive. For the first time in years, he had no desire to put aside his wants in favour of someone else’s.
Erwin wanted you entirely, and whilst he was certain you didn’t understand the full implication of that, he would take his time. Courting you would be a slow waltz, not some frenzied race to the finish line.
He appreciated how contrary that was given he was about to fuck you into a drooling coma, but the situation called for a drastic intervention to alleviate the both of you. It had been many years since his instincts ruled him. Your intoxicatingly sweet musk had bewitched him thoroughly.
Erwin felt like a young man again—in his prime. Back when his mind did not rule his body with an iron fist.
“If you want this,” he tugged on his shaft for emphasis, “you’ll get on your knees and present like a good Omega.”
Stepping close enough that his shins met the edge of the mattress, he observed you scrambling into position, his tongue wetting the plush of his bottom lip. He hadn’t tasted your mouth yet, something he would remedy at the earliest opportunity. Right now, you would nip and bite and snap at him, something he liked, but your first kiss should be more restrained than that.
“That’s it. Good girl… look at you dripping for me. Fuck—sway your hips like that again and we won’t leave this room until you’re round and full of my pups.”
You dropped to your elbows when you felt the bed dip behind you. Your molten cheek came to rest on the sticky sheets, the angle just enough to cut your eyes up and see him approach.
Commander Smith.
Erwin.
Alpha.
He filled his broad palms with the fat of your rump, stretching you wide until your cunt flexed in want, pushing out slick in anticipation. Erwin thumbed at your entrance before raising a hand to his mouth and licking the flat of his palm right to the tips of his fingers. The saliva felt that much hotter when it connected with your needy flesh.
You’d be mortified by the obscene squelch of your juices and his spit mingling together if you were in your right mind. It was filthy—pure and simple.
What you couldn’t see was Erwin coating himself in your abundant arousal, viscous strands succumbing to gravity to drip over his balls. He was breathing heavily now, the muscles taut in his neck and shoulders with the restraint of not being inside you. A wide mitt of a hand rested at your hip, massaging whilst he shuffled closer and let the weight of his tip notch at your cunt.
“Erwin—please! Need it now. I might di—oh my fuccccckk!”
The stretch was immediate despite how well primed you were. You knew he was thick, heavy, long… but the girth was the real killer. His cock bullied into you, inch by slow inch.
“Ha-! Don’t… squirm. You wanted this, right?”
Erwin clenched his fist to prevent the warning smack he nearly inflicted on your peachy butt. He was a lot to take, he knew that, and you were not accustomed to him—not yet.
You would learn in time. He would ruin you for anyone else.
Sweat dripped along your spine at the sweltering heat of his body engulfing yours. Erwin draped himself over you like a personal blanket, his lips and tongue and teeth exploring your skin and marking you in places you would have to contort to be able to see in the mirror come tomorrow.
“Taste divine. Smell like nirvana. Gods, your cunt is moulded to me, sweetheart. Can you feel me here?” he asked with a thrust that made your knees wobble and stars spark in your eyes. He was lodged right at your cervix, just as you had imagined when all this began, although not from the man in question.
“Uh-huh!”
It was all you could manage, drool slipping past the seam of your lips as Erwin set a pace that suited him. It wasn’t the frantic fuck you expected, neither was it slow nor deliberate like his fingers had been in the bath. What he managed to achieve was a combination of pace and force that knocked the air from your lungs each time he impaled you fully. It left you whining for him when he retreated, and soon the sensation of his balls swinging directly against your swollen little nub became so overwhelming that you were certain you wouldn’t last long.
As if he sensed your dilemma, he grunted mid-stroke and reassured you as he said, “Follow your instinct. Let your body do what it wants, what it needs. I want to feel you try to milk me.”
Erwin grunted; jaw clenched tightly. His knot was inflating, and he didn’t feel anywhere near ready for this to be over. Rationally, he knew that once would not be enough for you. There would more time to kiss and fuck and touch and learn, but he still clung to this first time like it really was his very first time.
In a way it was. It was his first time with you. It would not be his last.
The intensity of your orgasm nearly had him lose his bearing, if his wrist hadn’t caught the brunt of his weight then you would have been flattened into the mattress beneath him.
Your cunt was a greedy little thing—sucking and pulsing around his cock with little room for him to retreat. All he could do was ride out the pleasure through gritted teeth and determination not to blow his load like some young pup.
“Bi—Bite. Bite me!”
Christ… you were temptation and sin, and love and beauty all wrapped in one body.
Erwin scented along your back, mounting you like any animal would and dragging the prominent ridge of his nose over the fluttering pulse in your neck. It was beating wildly, a rhythm unique to you and he hummed his appreciation when you turned to give him more access. “Here?” he asked unnecessarily.
You chewed your lip, near delirious from the warmth and continued fullness of his cock sawing in and out of your core. He was licking the scent gland that attracted all Alphas to Omegas and Omegas to Alphas, but it was not the one on the other side that only those considered mates would bite and mark.
“Y-yes.”
A lie. He could smell it.
“Are you sure?”
“I-I… of course!”
Erwin smiled into your skin and sighed, knowing he was reaching his limit. “You are not being honest with me, but that’s okay. I won’t press you right now, we will have time.”
“Oh god. This won’t be enough?” You whimpered in realisation, shame coating your features and you were glad he couldn’t see how flushed your face was.
“Can you feel my knot growing?”
You nodded once, meekly, and he continued. “Once I plug you as nature intended, you will be fine for a good few hours, certainly until we can part safely. It’ll be enough for you to sleep and actually rest, but no… it will not be enough. I’m not going anywhere, darling.”
“But you have duties! You’re the fucking Commander… why are you laughing?” you asked with an evident pout.
“I think you’ll find you’re fucking the Commander.”
“Really? We’re really going to do dad level jokes whilst you’re balls deep and I’m desperate for you to bite my damn neck and knot me? Hey—mmm.”
Your wits scattered once again as Erwin spread his weight further, mounting you more fully than you thought possible. He braced one palm at the small of your spine and his jaw snapped wide.
His teeth grazed your earlobe, the sharp points travelling past the carotid artery until his hot breath huffed out in a wave of heat that tickled down your spine. He was losing his pace, hips beginning to snap harsher against your perfectly plump rear in a faltering tempo. You held your breath as you sensed the moment near.
He was so deep—so damn deep in your guts. Erwin lunged for you, his jaw stretched, and his perfectly pointed canines pierced into your flesh like a hot knife through butter. It made you tense all over, your walls clamping down around his ready to burst cock and it tripped his orgasm with a blinding flash. Heat unlike anything you had ever experienced speared your insides, and for a second it felt like your innards might be cooked alive.
Wave after wave of cum painted the neck of your womb. Your neck throbbed from where he held you in his beastly maw. His tongue lapped at the skin trapped between his teeth, soothing the hurt in any way he could whilst he grunted and growled spilling inside you endlessly.
You could feel the knot ballooning. It travelled further into your body, and you’d be damned if you could accurately describe the sensation. In simple terms it felt like you were being filled and stretched to the very limit of your body’s elasticity.
Finally, it came to rest right where it was needed most. A stopper for any seed escaping and you knew that it could be some time before you could untangle from each other. The orgasm from having Erwin’s potent essence flood your cunt was unlike any other.
It felt like it soothed the animal inside and sent it into a tranquil slumber. With a final cry of bliss, your knees slid out from under you and sent you both falling the final few inches to the mattress below.
Erwin licked over the wound he had inflicted, wincing at the harsh purple bite mark and dribbles of blood oozing sluggishly from the shallow wound. Hooking an arm around your front, he shifted you both, so his weight was no longer suffocating you, shushing your little whimpers when the repositioning slightly moved how you were joined.
“Sleep, my pretty little Omega. Let me watch over you.” Let me trace my fingertips over the curve of your shoulder, memorise the position of every freckle and divot in your skin.
He left those parts out, afraid of overwhelming you. Fearful that you might agree to things simply because of his power and position. There was no doubt in his mind that you were his mate, but could you say the same about him?
Erwin listened to your breathing even out, the heat dissipating from your skin until you were comfortable enough to nuzzle your face into the crook of his elbow beneath you. Strands of your hair fell across your eyes, and he was careful to move them aside to watch your eyelashes flutter in sleep.
What a lie it was… that an Alpha had all the power.
You could make or break him completely. You were the Goddess in his world and the fear of not being enough for you tore at his heart. He dropped his head to your shoulder and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come and soothe him like it was for you.
“I can’t wait to kiss you under the moonlight. When you accept me as your man, your mate, your Alpha.
I will change this world for the better… for you.”
I swear this is my last post but :( Erwin Smith who has such a big cock he has to train your throat with a dildo first so he can teach you how to take all of him in your mouth :( and after each session he licks your neck and your tits because you drooled so much he has to clean you up :(
as a loyal irl dilf fucker all the toji, naoya, nanami, hell any older anime character fics 😏 yall eat those UP have me like … was yall in the room ? WHERE THE CAMERAS @
anyways I LOVE ALL U BEAUTIFUL TALENTED WOMEN WHO WRITE NASTY SHIT FOR US 🫂 KEEP IT UP QUEENS 😘 appreciate ur authors more and comment some of ur favs !!
erwin x fem!reader (0.7k words)
mdni/nsfw !!!
soft dom!erwin, orgasm denial, praise, missionary, creampie, teasing, p in v, a little overstimulation and aftercare
masterlist
“you look beautiful like this, darling…”
erwin has you lewdly spread beneath him over the sheets, feet dangling in the air around his waist as he pushes his thick length over and over again into your sopping cunt. his strong arms cage you in, and his panting breath in your ear sends shivers down your spine. he feels you clench at his praise, and rewards you for it with an especially deep thrust.
“i’m so, so close,” you mewl, digging your nails into his back as the fire in your stomach burned hotter and hotter.
“not yet,” he says, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your craned and blushing neck.
you only whine in response, grabbing a tight hold of his sandy blonde locks in an attempt to ground yourself. his hips are rough and deliberate as they pound into yours, making you pant out whimpers and pathetic moans with each thrust. he presses his mouth to yours for a sloppy, messy kiss, the kind that leaves you gasping while your teeth click together.
“erwin…” you beg against his lips, the need to burst growing almost unbearable.
“sshhh, not yet,” he grunts. “you’ll wait for me, won’t you, darling?”
you can only nod through the nasty, wet noises coming from between your thighs. tears prick in your eyes as the burn of holding back your orgasm for him makes your body start to tremble. you’re a moaning, pitiful mess as your fingers dig deeper into his hair and muscled back, each filthy thrust punching air from your lungs.
“you’re doing so good, darling. look at you,” he praises, knowing you’re right on the edge of shattering at the way your spongy walls are clamping so tightly around his cock. he’s close too, ready to paint your insides at any moment.
“please,” you cry, eyes barely able to focus on him.
but erwin is somewhat of a masochist— he loves the immense pleasure after subjecting himself to the pain of waiting until the very last moment, and the deep connection of getting to cum in sync with his lover.
he knows you love it too, always disciplining yourself as far as you could stand and never complaining over his many denials. only sweet pleas for release, which were like music to his ears.
he feels every bump and ridge of yours, and you feel every dip and vein of his. “you’re perfect, waiting so patiently for me, hmm?”
“erwin, i can’t—”
“—you can.”
“i can’t!” you mewl. “i—”
erwin’s lips part in awe as he watches your beautiful form jerk and jolt beneath him. your vision blurs as he continues his pounding, your tight cunt sputtering around his length as you cum hard around his cock.
“—fuck.”
the sight is enough to make him break, and he spills deep inside you with raspy, broken groans, unable to stop his hips from stilling as he fucks you both through your highs. he clamps his eyes shut as they roll back into his head, burying his head in your neck as the gratification finally ripples through his body, rendering it almost numb as he orgasms.
his length is pulsing with blanks by the time it starts to subside, uncontrollably and almost pathetically grinding his seed into your cervix when he realizes you’re still cumming. a thin layer of sweat blankets your skin as you choke and gasp, starting to finally to come down, the orgasm leaving you senseless with pleasure.
“breathe, darling,” erwin gently takes hold of your jaw, kneading the fat of your hips as he softens his grinds.
you lie there panting, staring up at him with glazed and loving eyes. he pulls out slowly when he feels your throbbing walls start to slow, letting you whimper at the emptiness as he watches his thick cum ooze out of your sensitive heat, adding to the mess of slick that already graced your heavenly thighs.
“erwin,” you mumble. “i love you.”
“i love you more, darling,” he kisses you, deep and loving. “so much so, that i’ll let you rest for a few minutes before trying again.”
he watches your brows raise in confusion, and delicately ruts his still-hard cock over your swollen clit with a teasing smile.
“what?” erwin breathes, letting you whine at the sensitivity without shushing you, knowing you’re still reeling from your high. “you didn’t wait for me, even after i praised you so kindly for it. we’ll just have to go again, or until you can wait for me properly.”
characters: ex-husband erwin smith x female!reader
summary: Seven years. That’s how long you and Erwin spent together before it all ended. Years of laughter, fights, and love all ended in a boardroom with a piece of paper. Now, as you try to pick up the pieces, he shows up to pick up your two boys for his weekend - only to have forgotten an different arrangement was already made. You invite him in, and the rest - well, it might just fix past mistakes.
cw: angst, more angst, smut - obviously, you might actually fall in love with erwin smith? (maybe just a little), post-divorce, divorce mentioned in first half, oral receiving (f)
wc: 9.7k
Heartbreak had visited you more times than you could count. It came in small, fleeting moments — like when you lost homecoming queen, blinking back tears as you smiled through the disappointment. Or when your family had to put down the old dog who’d slept at the foot of your bed for most of your childhood, the house feeling unbearably quiet afterward.
But real heartbreak — the kind that lodged itself in your chest and refused to leave — was sitting in a stuffy boardroom across from the man you once thought you’d spend forever with, Erwin Smith.
The man you fell in love with freshman year of college, who made you laugh until your stomach ached even on some of your most stressful days. The man you married in a small elopement ceremony, hands trembling as you slipped rings onto each other’s fingers with only two witnesses there to cheer for you. The man you had built a life with, through restless nights soothing two crying babies and early mornings spent packing lunches and driving your boys to sports practices.
Now, that same man sat across the table, his icy blue eyes fixed on a spot just past your shoulder like he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at you. A single sheet of paper lay between you, the words Divorce Agreement printed in bold, black lettering at the top.
The sharp scent of coffee and disinfectant lingered in the air, each tick of the clock dragging you closer to the end. You wanted to speak, to say anything, but the words stuck in your throat. How could you sum up years of love and heartbreak in a few sentences? How could you grieve the life you built together while he sat there, silent, like you were just strangers dividing what was left?
Turns out, the cruelest kind of heartbreak wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was quiet. Paper-thin. Just ink on a page and a signature line waiting to be filled.
The attorney spoke quietly, his words fading into the background like distant static. You kept your eyes on the papers in front of you, the ink blurring as tears welled up.
You didn’t need to read the words — you already knew every painful detail by heart. Your lawyer had drafted the documents, carefully outlining the end of your marriage like a routine transaction. You helped decide the terms, knew exactly where custody and assets were divided. But even though you tried to be fair, seeing it in writing still felt like a punch to the gut.
“If you both agree to these terms,” the lawyer said softly, “I’ll just need your signatures on the last page.”
You stayed frozen, and so did Erwin. The lawyer’s voice was gentle, but his words landed like a blow, echoing through the heavy silence. Two signatures — that’s all it would take to end everything. Seven years total of love, fights, laughter, and shared dreams, reduced to a quiet ending.
Across the table, Erwin finally shifted. His gaze dropped to the papers, jaw tight, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. For a second, you thought he might say something. That he might break the silence, tell you he still loved you, or that this was a mistake. Give you a reason to tear up the papers and walk away together.
But he didn’t.
He just reached for the pen.
The scratch of it against paper felt deafening, like the final nail in a coffin. He signed his name with the same hand that used to hold yours so tightly — the hand that lifted your children into the air and wiped your tears on your wedding night. When he slid the papers toward you, his fingers barely grazed the edge, like even the smallest touch might hurt too much.
It was your turn.
The lawyer folded his hands on the desk, waiting. Erwin leaned back in his chair, staring out the window like he couldn’t stand to look at you. His jaw clenched, shoulders stiff, but you knew him well enough to notice the way his thumb rubbed against his palm. A nervous habit.
He was struggling, too.
Maybe that should have made it easier. Maybe it should have reminded you why you were here — why love hadn’t been enough in the end. But all it did was make the ache worse. Because if he felt this broken, if this was tearing him apart too…
Then why wasn’t he saying anything?
Your vision blurred as you blinked back tears, throat tight with words you couldn’t bring yourself to say. The lawyer shifted in his chair, glancing at the clock, but the world outside felt distant and irrelevant. Your hand hovered over the pen, trembling, your heart pounding so loudly you swore he must have heard it.
Your fingers curled around the pen, and your pulse thudded in your ears as you lowered the tip to the paper. The ink flowed easily, your signature unfurling like a death sentence across the bottom of the page.
When you finally set the pen down, it felt like laying a flower on a grave.
Erwin let out a breath — shaky and quiet. You thought he might say something then, but he didn’t. He just nodded, pushing the papers toward the lawyer without a word.
It was done.
You pressed your hands into your lap to stop them from shaking and tried to swallow the lump in your throat. But the ache didn’t fade. It only grew, spreading through you like an echo of everything you’d just lost.
You stood, legs unsteady, and turned toward the door, the lawyer’s voice a distant hum behind you as he wrapped up the meeting.
Erwin didn’t stop you. He didn’t even look up.
And as you walked out of the boardroom, wiping at the tears that finally spilled over, you realized the cruelest part of heartbreak wasn’t the leaving.
It was knowing no one was going to follow you.
— —
2 Years Later
Your apartment smells like vanilla and jasmine, the scent drifting from a candle on the kitchen counter. You only light it when the boys aren’t home — they always say it makes the place smell “too girly.”
Soft music plays in the background as you sift through your jewelry box, searching for the right earrings. You stop when you find the gold hoops — the ones you used to wear whenever you wanted to feel a little more put together. The ones Erwin once said made you look elegant.
You hesitate, holding them in your palm for a moment. Then, you put them on anyway.
You catch your reflection in the mirror — hair curled, makeup carefully done, wearing the dress your friends convinced you to buy last summer. They’d dragged you through store after store, insisting you needed something that made you feel like you again. The fabric hugs your body in all the right places, the emerald green making your skin glow under the dim lighting.
You look good.
More than that, you look like you’re trying to be happy.
Tonight is your first real date in almost a year. You met him at a friend’s party — he had an easy smile, the kind that made you relax without trying. After weeks of texting, you finally agreed to dinner. You want to feel excited, to feel that hopeful flutter in your chest again.
And maybe you almost do.
Until there’s a knock at the door — sharp and familiar enough to make your stomach drop.
You freeze, your heart lurching into your throat. For a split second, you convince yourself you imagined it. But then it comes again — steady, unhurried. A knock you know as well as your own name.
You step toward the door, pulse hammering, hands trembling at your sides. The date, the dress, the last hour you spent trying to convince yourself you were ready to move on — it all fades into the background.
Because there’s only one person who knocks like that.
You grip the doorknob, hesitating, your fingers cold against the metal. Every part of you screams to walk away, to pretend you’re not home. But your body betrays you, and before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling the door open.
It’s Erwin.
He stands in the dim hallway, hands in his jean pockets, blonde hair damp from the rain. His sweatshirt looks worn, like he grabbed the first thing he could find. His blue eyes, the same ones you used to fall asleep next to, sweep over your face and then drop to your dress.
His brows furrow. “Are you going somewhere?”
You grip the edge of the door, your fingers digging into the wood. “Erwin?” Your voice barely comes out. “What are you doing here?”
He shifts on his feet, glancing back toward the elevator.
“It’s my weekend,” he says slowly, like he’s testing the words. “I was supposed to pick up the kids at seven.”
Your stomach sinks. “No,” you say, shaking your head. “My parents wanted to take them for the weekend. I texted you about it on Tuesday. You said that was fine.”
He blinks, the crease in his brow deepening. He drags a hand down his face and exhales. “Right,” he mutters. “I forgot.”
Silence lingers, heavy and uncomfortable. Two years of scheduled drop-offs, polite texts, and standing on opposite sides of sports fields — and now he’s here, seeing you dressed up for someone else.
Erwin clears his throat and steps back. “I should go,” he says, already turning toward the elevator. “Sorry for bothering you.”
You should close the door.
You should let him leave and get back to your night — to your date, to moving on.
But you don’t.
You watch him retreat, the familiar slump of his shoulders, the way he rubs the back of his neck like he always does when he’s upset. And just as he reaches the end of the hall, the words spill out of you before you can stop them.
“Do you want to come in?”
He stops.
His hand hovers over the elevator button, fingers twitching like he isn’t sure what to do. Slowly, he turns back, his eyes searching yours.
And you don’t know why you said it.
But when he nods and starts walking back, your chest tightens, and you step aside to let him in.
He steps inside, careful and hesitant, like he’s not sure he belongs here. You close the door and turn to face him, the soft glow of the candle casting shadows across the room.
He stands in the middle of your living room, arms folded over his chest, eyes drifting over your space. The toys are neatly put away, and photos from your last beach trip with the kids cover the fridge.
You clear your throat, suddenly aware of how quiet it is. “Do you want some water? Or… coffee?”
He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I’m good.” He glances at you, then quickly looks away, his gaze flicking to the floor. “I, uh… I really didn’t mean to mess up your night.”
You cross your arms over your chest, hugging yourself like that might steady your heartbeat. “It’s fine,” you say, even though it doesn’t feel fine at all.
He exhales, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I should’ve double-checked the schedule,” he mutters. “I just… I guess I had it in my head that it was my weekend.”
“It’s okay,” you say again, softer this time.
He glances toward the kitchen, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I haven’t seen you dressed up in a while,” he says, his voice low. “Are you…meeting someone?”
Your throat tightens. You don’t owe him an answer, but the question lingers between you like a ghost.
“Yeah,” you finally say, barely above a whisper. “It’s just dinner.”
He nods, but something flickers across his face — too fast for you to catch. He looks down, scuffing his shoe against the floor. “That’s good,” he says, even though it sounds like a lie. “You deserve that.”
The ache in your chest swells, unexpected and sharp. Because this is what you wanted, isn’t it? Distance. Space.
A chance to rebuild.
So why does it hurt to see him standing here, pretending like this doesn’t affect him?
The clock on the wall ticks steadily, the only sound filling the room as you try to remember how to breathe. Your phone buzzes on the counter. You flinch at the sound, grateful for the distraction, and rush to grab it.
It’s a text from your date.
Hey, I’m really sorry, but something came up. Can we reschedule?
You stare at the screen, your jaw tightening as the words blur. You should be upset, maybe even hurt, but all you feel is irritation.
With a sharp breath, you set the phone down carefully, resisting the urge to toss it across the room.
You swallow, pressing your lips together before answering.
“Yeah,” you say, the word sharper than you intend. “My date just canceled.”
His jaw tightens, something flickering in his eyes. “Oh,” he says, voice low. “I’m… sorry.”
But he doesn’t sound sorry. Not really. And before you can stop yourself, the words are already out:
“Do you want to stay for a while?”
His eyes snap up to meet yours, surprise flickering across his face. He doesn’t answer right away, and for a second, you wonder if he’s going to turn you down.
But then he exhales, his shoulders dropping just slightly.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I can stay.”
You nod, though your pulse is racing, and gesture toward the couch. He hesitates for just a second, then grabs the hem of his sweatshirt. His hands work quickly at removing it as his body sinks into the cushions.
You slip off your heels and sit at the opposite end of the couch, tucking your legs beneath you. The distance feels necessary, like a safety net, but it doesn’t stop the air from feeling heavy between you.
For a while, neither of you speaks. The soft hum of music still floats through the room, but the song has changed — something slow and aching, the kind of song you’d skip if you were alone.
Erwin rubs his palms over his jeans, staring at the coffee table like it holds the answers to whatever question he’s not asking.
“You didn’t have to invite me in,” he says eventually, voice low and careful. “I know this is… weird.”
You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah,” you admit. “It is.”
He glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching like he almost smiled. “I can go if you want.”
But you shake your head, staring down at your hands in your lap. “No. It’s… it’s fine. It’s been a while since we talked, that’s all.”
He leans back, resting his head against the couch. “Yeah,” he echoes, staring at the ceiling. “Feels longer.”
The words settle in your chest, heavier than you expect.
You study him out of the corner of your eye — the way his shoulders curve in like he’s trying to make himself smaller, the faint streaks of silver threading through his hair. He looks tired. Older. But he’s still him. The same man who used to dance with you in the kitchen, who carried all three grocery bags in one trip just to make you laugh. The same man who signed his name on a divorce agreement two years ago without looking back.
Or maybe he did look back. Maybe you both did — just never at the same time.
You press your thumb into your palm, grounding yourself, and force the words out. “How have you been?”
He turns his head to look at you, eyes searching yours like he doesn’t know how honest he should be.
“I’ve been…” He trails off, biting the inside of his cheek. Then he exhales, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Some days are easier than others, I guess.”
You nod because you understand that too well.
“And you?” he asks, voice quieter. “Are you happy?”
His question knocks the wind out of you. You should say yes. You should tell him you’ve rebuilt your life, that you’re doing well, that you’re fine. But the truth lodges in your throat, too messy to untangle.
“I’m trying to be,” you say instead, your voice barely above a whisper.
Erwin’s expression softens, his brows drawing together like the answer hurts him somehow.
The silence stretches again, but it’s different this time — less awkward, more familiar. Like you’ve both slipped into an old rhythm, even if the melody is fractured.
After a while, he scrubs a hand down his face and shifts in his seat. “I should probably let you get some rest,” he murmurs, already moving to stand.
But your chest tightens at the thought of him leaving, at the door closing and swallowing him up again.
“Or,” you say, voice shaky, “we could order takeout.”
He freezes, eyes locking on yours.
“For old times’ sake,” you add, your throat tight.
He studies you for a long moment, like he’s searching for permission to stay. And then he smiles — small and tired, but real.
“Okay,” he says, settling back into the cushions. “What are we in the mood for?”
And just like that, the space between you shifts. It’s not forgiveness. It’s not closure.
But it’s something.
You grab your phone, fingers hovering over the screen as you scroll through the familiar list of restaurants. The usual suspects — the pizza place you spent many birthdays at, the Italian restaurant Erwin took you to for your first date, the occasional hole in the wall Asian restaurant, and his favorite Greek restaurant.
“What do you feel like?” you ask, glancing over at him, already having a sneaking feeling as to what he’ll choose.
Erwin leans back against the couch, stretching his arm along the backrest like he’s trying to get comfortable. But his gaze keeps flicking around the apartment — your new apartment. It doesn’t look anything like the home you used to share, but he’s still studying it like he’s searching for pieces of the life you built together.
“I don’t know,” he finally says, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is that Greek place still around?”
Your chest tightens with the memories — late nights with plates of hummus and pita bread, laughing until your stomach hurt, Erwin stealing your fries even though he swore he didn’t want any. The seven birthdays of his that you spent chatting the night away there, just because it was his favorite.
“Yeah,” you say, your voice softer now. “It’s still there.”
He nods, rubbing his jaw. “Let’s do that, then.”
You place the order, and by the time you set your phone down, the tension in the room has eased just a little. But there’s still something fragile about it — like the new version of your life is trying to coexist with the ghost of your old one.
He rests his elbows on his knees, glancing toward the hallway where the boys’ rooms are. Their doors are covered in stickers and crayon drawings, things they picked out to make the space feel like theirs.
“They like it here?” he asks, voice careful.
“They love it,” you say, and a small, proud smile tugs at your lips. “Xavier picked out his own paint color — bright green. It’s a little… intense, but he thinks it’s the coolest thing ever. And Jasper loves the park down the street. We go almost every evening.”
Erwin smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes your heart ache. “I’m glad,” he says, leaning back against the cushions. “This place suits you.”
You blink, caught off guard by the comment. “What do you mean?”
He gestures vaguely around the room. “I don’t know. It just feels like you.” He huffs a quiet laugh. “The candles, the books everywhere, the throw blanket that’s way too soft to be practical.” His gaze softens as he looks at you. “You built something good here.”
You swallow the lump rising in your throat, fingers curling into the hem of your dress. “I had to,” you say quietly. “For the boys.”
“And for yourself,” he adds, his voice gentle but certain.
His words settle between you, heavy and tender all at once.
The food arrives a little while later, and you spread the containers out on the coffee table like you used to. You eat in easy, quiet bites, talking about the kids, work, and the little things that make up your separate lives. And when you’re both too full to move, he sinks further into the couch, eyes drifting closed.
“I haven’t eaten that much in forever,” he mutters, rubbing his stomach.
You laugh, pulling the too-soft blanket over your lap. “You always say that. And then you always do.”
His eyes flick open, finding yours, and something shifts in the air again — that fragile thread pulling tight. You should look away, but you don’t.
“It’s nice,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Talking like this.”
You nod, your pulse thudding painfully loud in your chest. “Yeah,” you admit. “It is.”
He swallows, gaze dipping to your mouth for half a second before he looks away, rubbing his palms on his jeans like he needs something to ground him.
“I should go,” he says, but he doesn’t move.
You stare at him, heart racing, words pressing against the back of your throat like they might tear you apart if you keep swallowing them down.
“You don’t have to leave, you know,” you say quietly.
Erwin freezes, his body tense like he’s not sure he heard you right. His hand, halfway to the armrest, curls into a loose fist, and he slowly turns to face you.
His eyes search yours, cautious and careful. “Are you sure?” he asks, voice rough like he doesn’t quite trust it.
You nod, your pulse pounding in your ears. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m sure.”
He sinks back into the couch, exhaling like he’s been holding his breath this whole time. He rests his head against the back cushion, rubbing his hands over his face before letting them fall into his lap.
For a few moments, neither of you speaks. The music hums softly, a low, aching melody that barely feels real. It fills the silence like it’s trying to soften the sharp edges of everything you’re not saying.
Erwin leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, rubbing his hands together like he’s trying to steady himself. His shoulders are tense, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
“I miss them,” he says, voice so quiet it almost disappears into the room. “On the nights they’re not with me. The quiet just… gets to me sometimes.”
You nod, fingers twisting in your lap. “Yeah,” you say softly. “Me too.”
Because you know exactly what he means — how the absence of your kids turns the apartment into an echo chamber. How you still find yourself listening for their footsteps or the sound of them giggling in the next room, even when you know they aren’t there.
“They keep me busy, though,” he continues, a faint, tired smile tugging at his mouth. “Jasper’s been making me practice baseball with him in the backyard. I think he wants to go pro.”
You laugh, the sound lightening the weight in your chest. “He’s been telling everyone he’s the next big thing. He even tried to negotiate a later bedtime because ‘athletes need more recovery time.’”
Erwin chuckles, shaking his head. “That sounds like him.”
The ease of it — talking about the boys, sharing the small moments you’ve each had with them — chips away at the tension, piece by piece.
“How’s Xavier?” he asks, turning to look at you. “He seemed a little quiet last week.”
You tuck your legs beneath you, rubbing your thumb against the seam of your dress. “He’s okay,” you say. “He’s just been having trouble sleeping lately. Says he has bad dreams sometimes.”
Erwin’s face falls. “He didn’t tell me that,” he murmurs, guilt flickering through his eyes.
You shake your head quickly. “It’s not a big deal. He usually just crawls into bed with me, and then he’s fine.” You hesitate before adding, “He brings his stuffed elephant — the one you won for him at the carnival.”
Erwin’s throat bobs as he swallows, and he leans back against the couch, running a hand through his hair. “I wish he’d told me,” he says, voice quieter.
You want to tell him it’s okay. That co-parenting is messy and complicated, and sometimes the boys talk to you about things they don’t tell him — just like they probably tell him things they don’t tell you. But the ache on his face makes it impossible to find the right words.
Instead, you just say, “They love being with you. They come back talking about all the fun stuff you do together. Jasper told me you let them build a fort in the living room and sleep in it.”
Erwin’s lips twitch into a small smile. “I didn’t let them. They just did it. I woke up with a pillow to the face.”
You laugh, the sound slipping out before you can stop it. And for a moment, it feels… easy.
After a while, he sinks further into the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Do you remember when we used to do this?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “Just sit and talk until it was way too late?”
You nod, your chest tightening. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I remember.”
He looks over at you, something unreadable in his expression. “I missed this,” he admits, the words falling out like he’s been holding them in for too long. “Talking to you.”
Your heart stumbles over itself, and you have to force yourself to breathe. “Me too,” you say, so quietly you’re not sure he even hears it.
But he does.
Because he shifts closer — just slightly — like he’s drawn to the sound of your voice. And when he exhales, his whole body seems to relax, like some part of him needed to hear you say it.
You can see it in the way his shoulders relax, the tension in his jaw loosening like your words unraveled something inside him.
And maybe it should scare you — how easily you can still affect him. How easily he still affects you.
But it doesn’t.
Not tonight.
Without thinking, you shift closer, closing the space between you until your knees almost touch. He notices, his eyes flicking to where you’ve moved, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t move at all.
“I missed this too,” you admit, the words spilling out before you can second-guess them. “I miss… you.”
His breath catches, sharp and sudden. He turns to face you fully, his eyes searching yours, wide with something that looks a lot like hope — but fragile, like he’s afraid to let himself feel it.
“You do?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
You nod, your chest tightening. “Yeah,” you breathe. “I do.”
The air between you hums, charged and fragile all at once. You can feel the warmth of his body this close, the familiar scent of his cologne lingering on his clothes. It sends a shiver through you, not from discomfort, but from how right it feels — how terrifyingly easy it is to slip back into this space with him.
“I think about you,” he says, his voice low and rough. “When the boys aren’t with me, when the house is quiet… I wonder how you are. If you’re happy.” He swallows, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a second before flicking back up. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to miss you, but I do. All the time.”
Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.
“You don’t have to wonder,” you whisper, your fingers curling into the fabric of your dress to keep them from shaking. “I’m right here.”
Erwin exhales sharply, like your words knock the air out of him. He looks at you, really looks at you, and something shifts in his expression — something raw and aching, like a door opening to a room you both promised never to step into again.
“But you weren’t,” he says, his voice breaking on the words. “At the end… you weren’t.”
The sentence slices through the moment, sharp enough to make you flinch. But he doesn’t pull back. He stays, his hand resting on his thigh, fingers twitching like he’s holding himself back from reaching for you.
Your chest tightens. “Erwin…”
“I know I’m not innocent in this,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I made mistakes, but it felt like I was losing you a little more every day, and I didn’t know how to stop it.”
The room feels too small, too heavy. But you force yourself to stay in it — to face what you both ran from for so long.
“I didn’t know how to ask for help,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I felt like I was drowning. Between the boys, the house, work… and I just kept holding it in because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do.” You blink rapidly, fighting the burn in your eyes. “And then I started feeling like a failure. Like I was ruining everything, and I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
Erwin turns to face you fully, his brows knit together. “You thought you were ruining things?” he asks, disbelief lacing his voice. “I thought I was the one ruining things.”
You laugh bitterly, wiping at your eyes. “We were a mess, weren’t we?”
“We were tired,” he corrects, his voice softening. “We were trying to keep everything together and forgot to take care of each other.”
The truth of it sits between you, heavy and undeniable.
“I resented you,” you confess, your voice shaking. “Not because of anything you did. Just because you didn’t seem to be falling apart like I was. And that felt… unfair.”
His eyes darken, guilt flooding his expression. “I was falling apart,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I just hid it because I thought if one of us stayed steady, it might keep us from collapsing completely.” He looks down, rubbing his hands over his jeans. “I didn’t want to add more to your plate, so I buried it. And eventually, it felt like I was living with a stranger.”
You suck in a shaky breath. “I felt like a stranger.”
Erwin’s hand twitches, and this time, he doesn’t stop himself. He reaches for you, his fingers curling over yours with careful, deliberate gentleness.
“I hated that we stopped talking,” he whispers. “We were best friends, and then one day, it was like… like we were just these two people passing each other in the same house.”
Your chest tightens so painfully it makes your eyes sting. “I hated it too,” you admit. “But by the time I realized how bad it was, I didn’t know how to fix it.”
He nods slowly, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “Neither did I,” he says. “So we just… let it break.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I thought leaving would make it hurt less,” you whisper. “But it didn’t.”
His grip on your hand tightens like he’s trying to anchor himself to the words. “Me neither.”
You continue, your voice barely above a whisper. "I thought it would be easier to move on, but I couldn't. I kept wondering what you were doing, who you were with..."
He cuts you off, his own voice thick with emotion. "There was no one else. There hasn't been anyone else since you left."
You look up at him, your eyes meeting his, and the space between you hums with electricity. The weight of everything unsaid lingers in the air, thick and unrelenting. Erwin reaches out, his hand cradling your face with a gentleness that makes your chest ache. His thumb grazes your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine as your pulse races.
He shifts closer, his body pressing against yours on the couch, the warmth of him sinking into your skin. His gaze flickers to your mouth, and the desire in his eyes is unmistakable — raw and unguarded.
He leans in, his face just inches from yours, his breath warm against your lips. Your heart pounds, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. But none of it matters the moment he finally closes the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so soft it steals the air from your lungs.
The kiss deepens slowly, like neither of you wants to rush it — like you’re afraid to break whatever fragile thread is holding you together. But the restraint doesn’t last long. His fingers slide into your hair, pulling you closer, and you respond without thinking, your body melting into his like you were made for this. For him.
He pulls you onto his lap, his hands exploring your body with a hunger that makes your breath hitch. His kiss is desperate, unrestrained, fueled by years of longing that neither of you dared to voice until now.
His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. He nips and sucks at the sensitive spots, drawing a soft moan from your lips as your fingers weave into his hair. You arch into him instinctively, chasing the warmth of his touch, the closeness you’ve craved for too long.
His mouth lingers on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver. When he pulls back, his breathing is ragged, and his eyes — darker and heavy with desire — trace every inch of your face like he’s trying to memorize you.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “I can’t believe I let you go.”
The words hit you harder than you expect, your chest tightening at the raw honesty in his voice. But before you can get lost in the ache of the past, his lips are on yours again, gentler this time, like he’s savoring the taste of you.
His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips with enough pressure to make your pulse stutter. The way he holds you, like you’re something precious, makes your heart pound even harder.
You shift in his lap, your body burning with the need for any friction, but it’s not enough. A soft whine escapes your plump lips, your mind overrun with thoughts of what to do. You want to take your time, to draw this out, to feel every inch of him. But you also would not be upset if decided to throw you against the wall and have his way with you.
“Stop thinking,” he whispers in your ear, sensing that you were starting to get in your head. “Take what you need from me. I’ll give you anything you want. You already know that.”
His lips place soft kisses under your ear as his words echo in your head. All at once, the battle in your brain stops, and you finally give in to your desires. Erwin’s hands tighten on your hips as you shift on his lap, worried that you’re trying to get off and end whatever was about to happen.
You can’t help but smile when you hear the quiet gasp leave his mouth as your legs move to straddle one of his thighs. Your dress rides up higher as your clothed cunt makes contact with his jeans, the heat from it making his cock instantly hard.
Erwin stills, his fingers digging into your hips as a sharp breath escapes him. His eyes snap up to meet yours, his jaw clenched like he’s holding himself back.
“Are you trying to kill me?” he breathes, a shaky laugh breaking through the tension.
You smile, biting your bottom lip as you roll your hips just slightly, testing him. His grip tightens, and a low groan rumbles in his chest, his head falling back against the couch.
“Good girl,” he mutters, his voice rough and dripping with praise. He lifts his head again, watching you like you’re the only thing in the world. “Take it, baby. Take everything.”
His words send a spark of heat through you, and you move again, slower this time, savoring the friction. His thigh is solid beneath you, the muscles tensing with every shift of your body, and the way he watches you — eyes hooded, mouth parted, chest rising and falling like he can barely breathe — makes you feel dizzy.
He doesn’t rush you. He just holds you, steady and patient, his hands guiding your movements like he’s perfectly content to let you unravel in your own time. And with every roll of your hips, every quiet sound that escapes your lips, his praise comes like a steady pulse of warmth against your skin.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his fingers flexing against your waist. “Just like that.”
Your body hums with every slow, deliberate movement, the ache in your core growing unbearable, but you don’t want to rush. Not when he’s looking at you like that — like you hung the stars and he can’t believe he’s allowed to touch them.
Erwin’s hands guide your hips, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to keep you grounded. His jaw is tight, the muscles twitching as he watches you, completely wrecked and utterly devoted.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs, voice rough and low. “I could stay like this forever… watching you get yourself off on my thigh.”
The words sink into your skin, making your whole body flush. You grip his shoulders, your nails biting into his skin through his t-shirt as you move a little faster, chasing the friction that has you spiraling. One of your hands slips down his chest, stopping at the hardness hidden by his jeans. You lightly dance your fingertips on it, teasing him.
Erwin groans, his head tipping forward until his lips are brushing against your ear. “You’re incredible,” he breathes, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”
You whimper, shaking your head, because words feel impossible when he’s touching you like this, holding you like you’re something sacred.
He kisses your neck, his lips trailing up to your jaw, and every touch feels like an apology, a promise, and a prayer all at once. “I’ve wanted this,” he confesses, his breath hot against your skin. “Wanted you. Even when I tried not to.”
The confession knocks the air from your lungs, and you turn your head, capturing his mouth in a kiss that’s all teeth and desperation. His grip tightens, pulling you even closer, swallowing every sound you make like he needs it to survive.
“W-Wanted you too,” you quietly moan into his mouth, your hips moving faster at his words. “Fuck, Erwin. So good.”
He shifts beneath you, flexing his thigh just right, and that’s all it takes for you come undone with a trembling moan, your body quaking against him. Your hand tightens on the outline of his length, making him groan loudly at your touch. His hands move to your back, pulling you close to his chest as you come down from your orgasm. He can feel your back move with each shaky breath, and your skin feels like fire under his fingertips.
He doesn’t say anything at first, just cradles you close, pressing soft kisses to your temple as his finger stroke the length of your spine softly.
You hear the shaky breath that leaves him as he rests his chin against the top of your head. “God, I missed this,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “I missed you.”
You lift your head, your chest still heaving, and meet his gaze. His face is flushed, his normally bright eyes dark and heavy-lidded, but there’s something else there too — something raw and vulnerable, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to want this as much as he does.
“I missed you too,” you whisper, brushing a damp strand of hair away from his face. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think we’d ever be here again.”
His fingers flex against your waist, and he swallows hard. “I didn’t either,” he admits, his voice breaking. “And now that we are… I don’t know how to stop wanting you.”
Your heart clenches painfully. Because it’s not just physical. It never was. The years apart haven’t erased the way he craves every part of you — not just your body, but the way you fit into his life, the way you always have.
You cup his face, your thumb tracing the curve of his jaw.
“You don’t have to stop,” you say softly.
His breath hitches, and something shifts in his expression — the last shred of restraint slipping away.
“Come here,” he whispers, his voice laced with both command and plea.
You kiss him, slow and deliberate, pouring every ounce of longing and regret into the space between you. And he gives it all back — his lips moving against yours with an aching kind of desperation, like he’s trying to make up for every missed chance, every lost moment.
But the couch feels too small for everything you feel for him.
Erwin pulls back, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His fingers dig gently into your waist, like he can’t stand the thought of letting you go.
“Let me take you to bed,” he whispers, his voice rough and low. “I want to feel all of you.”
Your chest tightens, and all you can do is nod.
He doesn’t make you move. Instead, he shifts beneath you, his hands sliding under your thighs as he lifts you effortlessly into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist like second nature, your body clinging to him as he stands, holding you against him like you weigh nothing at all.
He carries you through the apartment with slow, careful steps, his lips finding yours again and again — hungry, searching kisses that make you dizzy.
By the time he reaches your bedroom, you’re both breathless. He nudges the door open with his foot, stepping inside without breaking the kiss. The room is dimly lit, the glow of the streetlights outside spilling through the curtains and casting soft shadows across the bed.
He lowers you onto the mattress with heartbreaking gentleness, as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go too quickly. But he doesn’t leave you for long. He follows you down, settling between your legs, his body pressing into yours like he’s desperate to be as close as possible.
His fingers trail down your sides, slow and deliberate, like he’s relearning you through touch alone. He lifts himself just enough to hover over you, his gaze roaming your face, then lower — taking in the way your chest rises and falls, the way your body molds against his like you never stopped belonging to each other.
His hand drifts to the hem of your dress, fingers curling around the satin fabric. He hesitates, his chest heaving as he searches your face. “Can I?” he whispers, voice rough and strained.
You nod, your pulse thudding in your ears. “Please.”
He exhales, sitting back on his heels as he slowly pushes the dress up your thighs. His hands are steady, but there’s a respectful gentleness in the way he touches you, as if handling something sacred. The fabric slides over your skin, and each inch he uncovers feels like a rediscovery, as if he’s relearning you all over again.
When the dress pools around your waist, he leans down, pressing his lips to the curve of your hip, then just above your navel. “You’re still perfect,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. “Every inch of you.”
Your fingers sink into his hair, your body arching into him like instinct, like muscle memory. “Erwin,” you breathe, your voice already unraveling.
He groans softly at the sound of his name, his hands skimming up your thighs to grip your waist. “I’ve missed this,” he says, almost like he’s confessing a sin. “Missed you.”
He lifts the dress higher, sliding it up and over your head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside like it’s the last thing on his mind. His gaze rakes over you, dark and desperate, but there’s something fragile underneath the hunger — a quiet awe, like he can’t believe the two of your are this close.
“Two years,” he whispers, his fingers trailing over your skin like he’s counting the days you’ve been apart. “I’ve wanted you every single day.”
Your chest tightens, tears pricking at your eyes, and you tug him back down to you, capturing his mouth in a kiss that tastes like longing and forgiveness all at once.
“Then take me,” you whisper, the words spilling out against his lips. “Like you never stopped.”
Erwin groans, the sound breaking in his throat, and when he kisses you again, it’s not careful anymore. It’s consuming.
He kisses you like he’s starving for it — like every day without you has been slowly killing him, and this is the only way to breathe again. His body presses into yours, his hands exploring every inch of skin he can reach, like he’s trying to memorize you all over again.
He moves slowly at first, almost hesitant, like he’s afraid he’ll break you. But when you arch into him, when you tug him closer and gasp his name, something inside him snaps.
Erwin moans into your mouth, his grip on your waist tightening as he presses you deeper into the mattress. But then, he suddenly pulls back, chest heaving, his eyes blazing as they rake over you.
You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s kissing his way down your body — slow, deliberate, like he’s unraveling you piece by piece. His lips trace a burning path along your collarbone, then lower, pressing quick kisses to every inch of skin he uncovers.
“I need to taste you,” he mutters against your stomach, his voice wrecked. “I’ve been dreaming about it.”
Your body jolts at his words, heat pooling low in your belly. You lift your hips instinctively, and he takes it as permission, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and sliding them down your legs with agonizing patience.
He spreads your thighs, settling between them like he belongs there. His hands stroke along your inner thighs, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you squirm.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice thick with awe. “You’re perfect.”
You open your mouth to respond, but all that escapes is a broken gasp as he leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your most sensitive spot.
It’s almost too much, the way he devours you like he’s starving for it — like he’s been deprived of this for so long he can’t bear to take his time. With every gasp and moan that escapes your lips, Erwin feels the last bit of himself he was holding back unravel.
His tongue works magic on your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He alternates between gentle licks and hard sucks, watching each reaction you give him. When you try to turn away, his hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you with a hunger that leaves you breathless.
“Don’t look away,” he murmurs, voice low and commanding. “I want to see you fall apart.”
His words and the weight of his gaze on you unravels you. Your fingers work into his hair, twisting at the strands as your back arches in pleasure. He doesn’t stop — doesn’t let up his tongue’s torment on your aching clit, doesn’t look away from your beautiful face for even a second until you shatter beneath him, crying out his name like a prayer.
His tongue slows down its movements, working you through your orgasm. Soft groans leave his throat as he tastes you, licking every inch of your cunt so he doesn’t leave a drop behind. Your legs try to close on his head, and he grins at the overstimulation he’s causing you.
He moves slightly, pressing gentle kisses to your trembling thighs as you recover, his touch grounding you. When he finally lifts himself back up, he kisses you without hesitation, letting you taste yourself on his lips as he settles over you again, his body flush against yours.
“I could do that forever,” he whispers, brushing your hair back from your damp forehead. “But I need to feel you.”
The way he says it, the desperate crack in his voice, makes you pull him even closer.
“Then take me,” you breathe, your legs wrapping around his waist. “I’m yours.”
Erwin freezes, his body trembling above you like your words physically stopped him. He lifts his head, eyes searching yours, his chest heaving with every shaky breath.
“Say that again,” he pleads, his voice barely a whisper, like he needs to hear it one more time just to believe it’s real.
You cup his face, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw, your heart pounding so hard it hurts. “I’m yours,” you repeat, your voice steady despite the tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “I’ve always been yours.”
He exhales like the weight of the world just slid off his shoulders, and then he kisses you — desperate and consuming, like he’s trying to fuse himself to you.
“I’m yours,” you whisper again, the words slipping out between kisses, like you need him to believe it.
Erwin groans like the words break him, kissing you fiercely as he finally gives in. His body presses into yours, the heat of him seeping into your skin, but it’s still not close enough.
His hands explore you like he’s trying to commit you to memory all over again, but when you tug at the hem of his shirt, he gets the message. He sits back on his heels, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, and yanks the shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor without a second thought.
Your breath catches as you take him in — the familiar stretch of muscle, the faint scars you used to trace with your fingers, the way he still looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.
“You’re staring,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, but there’s a vulnerability in his eyes, like he’s desperate to know you still want him like this.
You reach out, your fingers gliding down his chest, tracing the lines of him softly. “I didn’t think I’d get to do this again,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.
His throat bobs as he swallows, and he leans down, capturing your mouth in a kiss so tender it makes your chest ache. “You can,” he whispers, like a promise. “I’m here. You can have all of me.”
Your fingers trail lower, to the waistband of his jeans, and he shudders as you start to undo them. But he doesn’t make you finish. He stands, stripping the rest of the way, his movements quick and unsteady, like he’s afraid if he takes too long, you’ll change your mind.
And when he finally lowers himself back over you — skin to skin, nothing left between you — he exhales like he can finally breathe again.
He presses his forehead to yours, his hand cradling your face. “I can’t go slow,” he whispers, voice rough and wrecked. “I’ve wanted this for too long.”
You wrap your legs around him, pulling him impossibly closer. “Then don’t,” you breathe. “I need you.”
Erwin doesn’t make you wait.
He kisses you like he’s starving, his body pressing you deeper into the mattress as he positions himself between your legs. His hands roam your skin, both rough and gentle, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you by touch.
He lines himself up, pausing just long enough to search your eyes, his chest heaving. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers, his voice tight, like it’s taking every ounce of restraint he has not to lose himself in you completely.
You shake your head, your nails dragging down his back. “Don’t stop,” you plead, arching into him. “I want all of you.”
That’s all it takes.
He sinks into you slowly, his forehead dropping to yours as he lets out a broken groan. The stretch, the fullness — it’s almost overwhelming, but it feels right. Like he belongs there.
“God,” he chokes out, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel… perfect.”
You gasp, clinging to him, your body adjusting around him as he stills, like he’s trying to give you time to catch your breath. But you don’t want time. You want him.
“Move,” you whisper, your voice shaking. “Please.”
Erwin curses under his breath and obeys, drawing back before pressing into you again, slow and deliberate. His movements are steady, like he’s savoring every second, every tiny reaction he pulls from you — the way your body arches, the way you gasp his name, the way your fingers claw at his skin like you’re trying to pull him even closer.
He kisses you through it, swallowing your whimpers, his breath hitching every time you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. “You’re everything,” he mutters against your mouth, voice rough and desperate. “I don’t deserve you, but I can’t stop.”
“You don’t have to stop,” you pant, your legs tightening around him to keep him exactly where you want him. “I don’t want you to.”
That shatters whatever fragile control he was holding onto.
His pace quickens, his thrusts turning frantic, like he’s trying to bury himself in you completely. The room fills with the sound of your ragged breaths, your bodies moving together like you never stopped fitting this perfectly.
“I love you,” he gasps, his face buried in your neck. “I love you so much I can’t —”
The words, the way he says them, completely undo you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your body clenching around him as you cry out his name, trembling in his arms.
Erwin follows a moment later, a guttural groan spilling from his throat as he comes undone, his body shaking against yours. He collapses on top of you, his weight grounding you, his face still pressed to your skin as he tries to catch his breath. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both come down from your highs.
The room is quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the steady rhythm of Erwin’s breathing. The sheets are tangled around your legs, your skin still warm from where his body pressed against yours.
You lie on your side, facing him, your fingers tracing slow, aimless patterns against his chest. His arm rests around you, his fingers trailing gently up and down your spine, like he needs the constant reassurance that you’re still there.
For the first time in years, nothing feels broken.
You don’t speak at first — both of you content to exist in the quiet, letting the moment stretch out like it might last forever.
Erwin breaks the silence first, his voice low and rough. “I forgot what it felt like to hold you,” he admits.
You tilt your head up to look at him, your heart stuttering. “Yeah?”
He nods, eyes heavy with exhaustion and something softer — something that looks a lot like love. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I didn’t realize how much I missed it until now.”
Your throat tightens, and you press your palm flat against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your hand. “I missed it too,” you say quietly, the words soft but true.
He swallows hard, shifting to prop himself up on one elbow so he can see you better. His fingers brush a strand of hair behind your ear, lingering like he’s afraid letting go will make this disappear.
“I don’t want this to be something we pretend didn’t happen,” he says, voice low and rough around the edges. “I don’t know what comes next, but… I want to try. If you’ll let me.”
Your chest tightens, the weight of his words pressing against something fragile inside you. Tears prick at your eyes, and you blink quickly, trying to steady your voice.
“I want that too,” you whisper, the words tumbling out like a confession. “But I’m scared. What if we just break all over again?”
His thumb sweeps across your cheek, catching a tear before it can fall. “Then we put ourselves back together,” he says, his voice shaking. “I don’t care how messy it is. I just don’t want to lose you again.”
A quiet sob slips out, and you grip his arm like you need something solid to hold onto. “I just signed a lease,” you say, your voice trembling. “The boys are finally settling in. I can’t… I can’t rip them out of that.”
“I know,” he whispers, his hand cradling your face like you’re something fragile and precious all at once. “I don’t need any of that to change. I just want to be here… as much as you’ll let me.”
You break completely at that. You curl into him, burying your face against his chest as the tears finally fall. And he just holds you — no pressure, no expectations — his fingers threading through your hair, his lips pressing soft, steady kisses to the top of your head.
Eventually, you pull back, your face flushed, your body exhausted, but your heart a little lighter. “So… we try?” you whisper, searching his face like you’re still waiting for him to change his mind.
He smiles, small and a little sad, but real. “We try,” he promises, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.
And as you close your eyes, breathing him in, the quiet doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.
an: thanks to the anon that requested my king, mr erwin smith. I’m glad I was able to end my event with this absolute majestic commander <3
starring: Erwin Smith x female reader
warnings: NSFW, fluff and feelings, a lil hurt/comfort
now playing -
There was a storm rumbling outside; lightning flashed behind the heavy drapes and thunder followed behind with a sound akin to solid ground being split apart. It couldn’t dampen your mood, the afterglow of intimacy still warm on your skin.
Erwin’s arm wound further around your waist, pulling you closer to him and kissing the crown of your head. “A penny for your thoughts?” He asked lowly, his nose buried in your hair.
Your eyes slowly closed, enjoying the warmth of his chest and toying with the blond hair decorating the expanse, leading lower and lower until it reached where the sheets covered him. How did you explain your thoughts without sounding morose?
You opted for honesty. “Just thinking.”
“You don’t say,” Erwin chuckled, settling back with an arm resting behind his head. “Elaborate, my dear, or I’ll begin to worry.”
I never want this to end. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. What does the future hold? Will we survive it?
None of that passed your lips.
It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. You didn’t need to hear the answers, especially given that Erwin was not one to soften the blow of his words. He wouldn’t want to upset you, but he wouldn’t lie either.
“Can’t I enjoy the patter of the rain on the windowpanes and the beat of your heart instead?” You followed up your request with the swirl of your finger, deliberately catching the edges of his nipple and listening to his breath catching in his throat.
Quick as a flash, you found yourself rolled to your back. Erwin’s nose brushed along the slope of yours, his mouth quirking into a subtle smile. You could feel him against every part of your body, his erection returning to press insistently between the mess still coating the inside of your thighs.
“My darling, my love… I swear to you that I will be with you always,” he murmured hotly against your ear. “Now please, get out of your head and back into my—arms.”
The last word was punctuated by the blunt tip of his cock lodging into you. Your nails scouring his shoulders as your head tipped past against the pillows.
He was your anchor when you needed it most.
Your comforting presence in the pitch of the night.
“I love you,” you sighed breathlessly.
Erwin kissed your already kiss-swollen lips, breaking apart to murmur a reply. “I love you more.”