one [ nsfw ]

The first time you see him is at the club you frequent with your friends. He's sitting at the bar, holding a glass of something that looks like whiskey in his fingertips. Quite literally, 'in his fingertips'- he's holding the rim of the glass. 

He's ridiculously attractive, from what you can see: dark hair, styled in an undercut, sharp features. One of your friends notices you staring and pokes you. "He's hot," she says with a grin.

On cue, the rest of your friends follow your stare. One of them whistles. "You sure know how to pick 'em!"

"He's really good looking," you agree, sipping some of the fruity drink you'd ordered to start.

"Go say hi!" your friend urges. "You're hot, he'll like you."

Normally, you'd say yes. You'd suck up the courage and go sit down on the bar stool next to him, maybe say hi and try to start up a conversation, but he looks quite intimidating and you don't have nearly enough alcohol in you to try and keep your self esteem intact if he shot you down. 

"Not tonight," you say, turning back to your friends. You raise your glass. "Tonight's about you guys!"

They all cheer and tip their glasses in. Your eyes flicker to the mystery man only once more before you tip the rest of your drink down your throat and remind yourself that you're here with your friends, not for one night stands.

.

The first time Levi sees you is the same night, when you're on the dance floor with your friends. You're wearing a tight red top and flattering leather pants that make your ass look great, and he curses himself for staring too long.

You're just another pretty face, and there's plenty of those to go around. 

He pours the last of his whiskey down his throat, then allows himself one more glance at you and your friends. You're spinning in circles with one of your friends, laughing like you don't have a care in the world. You're decently attractive, sure, but probably just another airhead like the last woman he brought back to his apartment. 

Levi leaves that night, alone, brushing you off as just another face.

.

Your internship- a four month long paid opportunity in the office of a supply company- starts the next Monday, and you intend to make the best of your last 'free' weekend.

You go back to the same bar the next week on a whim. That maybe there's a prayer of a chance that you'll see that handsome stranger again. And this time, you wouldn't be with your friends: you'd be on the hunt to find someone to go home with. If not him, then maybe another attractive stranger.

To your delight, he's there. Even though he's got his back to you, you know it's him. Same hair, same posture, lifting a glass by holding the edge of it. He's wearing a dark grey shirt and black pants, and when he turns his head to look towards the dance floor, you see the same sharp jaw and thin lips that you had a hard time not staring at last time.

What had seemed like a good idea suddenly becomes more daunting. "Alcohol," you muse to yourself. Yes, definitely, if you were going to talk to him. You'd need all the liquid courage you could get.

You step towards the bar stools and take a seat two stools away from your mystery man. Close, but not direct. "What can I get ya, miss?" the bartender asks.

You order your favorite drink and then a shot of tequila. He brings them to you, and you take a sip from the larger glass before closing your fingers around the shot glass, ready to toss it into the back of your throat and get the taste over with.

"You drink that shit?"

Got him. You've got his attention. You glance sideways, and his eyes- steely grey- are fixed on you, and although it looks like he's glaring at you, his eyes seem curious.

For a second, you panic, because you'd never planned on getting this far, but you manage to recover. "Not really," you say, offering him a smirk. "Just indulging in a bit of liquid courage."

He raises an eyebrow.

In response, you tip the shot down your throat, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the strong taste. You look back at him. "Why? Yours any better?" you ask.

He shrugs, taking another sip. "It's fine."

So he's not a conversationalist. You take the other drink the bartender gave you and take a greedy sip, washing down the taste of the tequila. "So, do you glare at everyone who sits next to you?" you ask.

"No. Just the annoying ones."

Your lips twitch. "We met ten seconds ago and I'm already annoying?"

He shrugs again, but his shoulders have slumped a bit- he's relaxing. Good sign. "Less annoying than when you were with your loud ass friends last week," he says.

Several things go through your head at once: he saw you last week, he remembered you from last week, and he brought up the fact he noticed you. "Ah, well, there was a birthday," you say with a shrug. "And anyone's loud with a couple shots in their system."

"Not everyone," he disagrees, tipping his empty glass at the bartender to indicate he wants a refill. "Just the annoying ones."

You snort. "If you wanted loud, you should've seen those frat boys last week."

"I did," he replies. "Wanted to kick the shit out of every single one of them."

"You would've done the world a favor," you agree.

The bartender returns with a refill for your new friend (if you could call him that) and sets another drink in front of you. Before you can protest, he smiles thinly and says, "it's from the gentlemen over there." He nods his head at someone on the far side of the bar, a brown-haired man with broad shoulders wearing a leather jacket. 

"Speaking of frat boys," you mutter under your breath. You raise your hand and smile weakly as a thank you, making no move to touch the drink. The man nods in return, then gets up from his seat, presumably to head over to you. "Shit."

The mystery man snorts. "You did this to yourself."

"Oh, shut up," you mutter under your breath before you can reprimand yourself for being rude. 

The man walks over. He's tall, and with his broad shoulders, he looks like he could be a football player. He smiles, but it's kind of creepy and you instantly straighten up. "Hey, doll," he says, and you hate him immediately.

To make matters worse, he takes the seat directly between you and the black-haired man you'd been attempting to talk to. You curse yourself for not sucking it up and sitting directly next to him. "Hi," you say thinly, still refusing to touch the drink he bought you.

"You're gorgeous," he says. "Couldn't keep my eyes off you from the second you came in," he adds, his gaze dropping from your eyes directly to your chest.

"Evidently," you say icily, pulling up your dress to cover more of your cleavage.

"C'mon. Want to get out of here?" He grins a bit too widely. "You look like you know how to have fun."

"No, thanks," you say politely. "You look like you're as much fun as watching paint dry." 

Mystery Man snorts and takes another drink. You're glad he finds this amusing, at least.

Apparently, the man beside you that you've now dubbed Asshole is either too dumb or too drunk to get the hint. Maybe both. "Aw, sweetheart," he slurs, draping an arm around your shoulders. "C'mon, I bought you a drink."

"Hey, dumbass," Mystery Man snaps, "she said she's not interested."

Well, at least you now know that he's got a sense of decency. God, the bar's on the floor, you think to yourself. You really need to reconsider your standards for men. 

"Screw off," the man says, his fingers pressing into your bare shoulder.

You reach up to his hand on your shoulder, almost as if to hold it. The asshole smiles, then yells when you grab two of his fingers and bend them backwards. It's enough to make him shoot back, tearing his arm away from you, and in his drunken stupor, he falls backwards off the stool.

"I said no," you say with a small smile.

"Bitch," the man snarls, pushing himself to his feet. "Fucking whore."

"Bye," you call as he stomps away, back to where he was before at the bar. You turn back to Mystery Man, who's watching you with raised eyebrows. "Where were we?" you say with a grin, taking the extra drink from the counter.

He's smirking. "You got a name, Red?" he asks.

Red? Ah. You're currently wearing a red dress and last week you'd been wearing a red shirt. "I do, but I kind of like Red," you admit, smiling slyly. "You?"

"Levi," he says.

You both stare at each other for a moment, drinks temporarily forgotten. The name fits him. He looks significantly less guarded than he did when you first came in. There's tension, that's for sure, and there's several different things you can say that might make that tension sexual. Is he interested?

His eyes drop, skimming your body, then rise up again to your face. You feel heat behind your cheeks. Then, the boldest you've ever been, you say, "your place or mine?"

There are hundreds of ways this could go wrong, but Levi says, "yours," and somehow the scenario picks the singular option to make this go right.

The wait for the taxi, the cab ride itself, and the elevator trip up to your floor all feel much too long. You're full of nervous energy, trying your best not to fidget with your dress or your clutch as the red numbers of the elevator keep floating by. Levi seems unbothered, calm and collected, and somehow that makes you even more nervous.

You nearly jump when the elevator dings for the eighth floor, and Levi follows you down the hallway until you're at your door. You fumble with your keys as you manage to get your door open.

"Huh," Levi muses as you step inside, closing the door behind him. "It's clean."

You'd just done a ceiling-to-floor clean the other day, and you're immediately grateful that you did. Levi is scanning your apartment, eyebrows raised in what seems to be pleasant surprise. "It's not much," you say, because it really isn't. There's a small kitchen area, a couch with a table and a television, and your bedroom and bathroom are just around the corner.

"It's fine," he says, turning back towards you.

There's an awkward pause. Do you move in, or do you wait for him to do something?

Levi cocks his head. "Well?"

You huff, lips twitching in a smile. "Fine."

You shrug off your clutch, lean in, and kiss him. Levi's hands slide around your waist, tugging your hips flush with his. You wrap one hand around the back of his neck and run your other hand up into his hair, and damn is it every bit as soft as you'd imagined.

Levi's hands drop to your ass, and he squeezes. His tongue slips into your mouth so naturally that it feels like it was meant to be there, that he fits perfectly. He kneads your ass in his hands, pulling you towards him, and you slowly walk him backwards. 

You bite his lip to hide your moan when his hands slide under your dress to grab your ass without the fabric in the way. Your dress bunches up to your hips, putting your thong on full display. "Mm," you moan into his mouth as Levi drags a finger down the crotch of your underwear.

"Soaked," Levi hisses into your mouth, smirking slightly. He does it again, lightly gliding his finger over your clothed clit, and your legs shake.

Not to be outdone, you slide your hands down and start undoing his belt buckle. Levi breaks your kiss just to latch his lips onto your neck, sucking at the skin above your collarbone. "Fucker," you curse under your breath as his teeth sink into your skin.

He chuckles, then bites down even harder. You have to bite your lip to contain your groan.

You finally get his belt off and drop it to the ground, unzipping his pants and tugging down his boxers. His cock springs out, curved and hard, and your brain temporarily short circuits. He's huge. You shake yourself out of your stupor and take him in your hand, and you feel him push his hips forward into your grip.

Without hesitation, you drop to your knees, and after a quick look up to make sure he's still on board, you take as much of him as you can into your mouth. "Fuck," Levi breathes.

You feel one of his hands slide into your hair. He doesn't pull or shove you around in any way; he just establishes a grip. You bob your head back and forth, hollowing your cheeks. Eventually you slide your head back, pulling off of him, and lick the underside of his shaft, pausing to circle your tongue around the tip.

"Jesus," you hear him mutter, and there's a light thunk as he tips his head back against the wall.

Encouraged, you take him back into your mouth, determined to give him the best head he's ever had- because somewhere deep in your gut, you know he's going to return the favor.

And boy, does he ever.

It's easily some of the best sex you've ever had. Levi seems to know exactly what buttons to push to set you off. After you finish sucking him off in your hallway, he fingerfucks you so well that you know you're never going to be able to be satisfied by your own fingers again. He hits sensitive points that you didn't know you had, working you to your climax so fast that it's physically painful.

Levi doesn't take breaks, either. You barely have time to come down from your high before he's pressing you down into the mattress, yanking your dress off your body and finally tearing your panties out of the way. You help him out of his shirt, telling him that you're on the pill and he doesn't need a condom, and when he finally enters you it feels like such a massive relief.

He fills you in a way that makes you feel like a virgin all over again, fucks you in a way that makes your legs shake, and hisses filthy things in your ear ("fuck, Red, just like that-") until you're both shaken and exhausted, unable to go any longer.

Levi collapses next to you on your bed, head tipped up to the ceiling. You both spend a few moments in silence, trying to mentally recover from the events of the last hour. You tip your head sideways at the clock: midnight.

"Can I use your shower?" Levi asks, like it wasn't just telling you to take it, Red, yeah, take it five minutes ago.

You nod blearily. "Across the hall."

He leaves, and you hear him shut the door to the bathroom. You gather up one of your sheets, wrapping it around yourself for at least a bit of modesty. Your sheets are filthy, all of them- you'll have to do laundry.

You hear the water turn on. You swing your legs off the bed and try to stand but collapse almost immediately; it feels like your legs are toothpicks. Message received, you lay back on your bed, shoving off the dirty sheets and stretching an arm out to your side table to grab a clean one. You wrap it around your body, promising yourself you'll take a shower after Levi gets out.

You don't mean to pass out, but you do anyway. When you wake up again, the clock reads 12:39. You stumble out of bed and take a quick survey of your apartment, only to come to a mildly disappointing conclusion.

Levi, and all of his belongings, are gone.

.

You spend your Sunday cleaning yourself up and prepping everything you need for the start of your internship tomorrow. You'd been lucky to land it; you know the application pool had been pretty big. If you were lucky, this could lead to a job at the company, which would be great considering you just graduated.

It's hard to get Levi off your mind. The sex was fantastic, for one thing, and he was gorgeous on top of that. Well, maybe you could hit the bar up again on Saturday after your first week. Maybe he'd be there again.

Monday rolls around, and it's hard to keep your nerves at bay. You put on a new pants suit that you bought and take the bus to the corporate building, fidgeting the whole way. You know it's going to be like secretary work at first, nothing serious, but it's still hard to keep yourself totally calm. 

When you enter the tall building, the secretary- her name tag says Rose- points you up to the fourth floor. You take the elevator, noting where the staircase is in case you need it.

You reach the fourth floor and push open the door. It's a large office space with some smaller offices inside, and a dozen desks making up the center of the room. There's a secretary's desk right in front of the door, and a petite blonde girl sits behind it, typing furiously at a computer. She notices you almost immediately. "Oh! You must be the new intern!"

Every head turns up from their desk, and it's hard not to squirm. "Y- Yes, that's me," you say, cursing yourself for stuttering.

She beams. "Nice to meet you! I'm Historia. We've got a desk set up for you. Erwin!" she calls.

Erwin Smith was the man who contacted you to inform you that you'd gotten the internship. He was in charge of the office. You straighten up as a tall blond man comes out of one of the offices. His grey suit is perfectly tailored and he's got bright blue eyes. "Ah, you must be the intern," he says, holding out a hand. "Erwin Smith. We spoke over email."

You shake his hand and force a smile. "Nice to officially meet you, sir."

"Wonderful. I'm sure you'll meet everyone in the office in good time." You glance out at the sea of desks, and several people wave to you. You wave back timidly. "You'll be working directly under my assistant manager, but I assure you, he's very qualified."

You nod. "Sounds good."

"He's hiding in his office," Historia pipes up.

Another woman at a desk near the front snorts. "Shortie hasn't got his tea yet, he's going to be in a foul mood," she says. "Like, worse than usual."

"Can it, Ymir," comes a voice from the far enclosed office space.

You pause. That voice sounds familiar...

Erwin chuckles. "Come on, Levi. If she's going to work for you, she'll need to meet you."

You stiffen. Did he just say- 

The assistant manager- your boss- steps out of the door, tea mug in his hand. "Honestly, two minutes and I would've had my tea," he snaps, eyes on the ground. "You couldn't have waited-"

His head snaps up and his eyes land on you.

"Oh, shit," Levi says aloud.

Oh, shit, you think.

This is going to be a long four months...