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The ping from your laptop feels like a death sentence.
You’re in the middle of packing your material away when it sounds, the notification popping up in the corner of your screen. The reaction is instant, the sensation of twenty pairs of eyes staring into the side of your head making you twitch. You’re not going to look at them, you’re not . If you do, they’ll see the opportunity to attack, and you had done so good today defending their almost-questions and keeping them on track with the lecture.
You weren’t battle-equipped for anything more tonight…and the nosy brats knew it.
Keeping an air of nonchalance, you reach over your desk to click the orange, glowing icon on your toolbar to bring up the staff messaging system.
[Levi Ackerman]: You’re totally fucked.
The little shit. Eyes narrowed, you inconspicuously look over the top of your monitor to the man sitting across the room. To your students, he probably looks like he’s working, an arm slung over the back of his cushy desk chair, papers to be graded stacked neatly, conveniently , in front of his keyboard. But you know better.
[Your Name]: you did that on purpose >:(
You watch him, acutely aware that you are also being watched, and hate him even more with the smug look he gives when your message goes through. He was smart enough to have his computer on mute.
[Levi Ackerman]: I don’t feel bad for you.
[Your Name]: think of the children, levi
The children who were actually grown adults, full-fledged twenty-something year olds, watching you with the anticipation of toddlers in the candy aisle of a grocery store. Just out of reach from what they want so badly to grab at.
[Levi Ackerman]: You should have thought about them before you walked out of the house with that thing on, idiot.
You’re sorely tempted to throw a pen across the room at him, “superior status” be damned, because you were too good at your job to be singled out like this. All you wanted was to go home, maybe grab a bottle of wine from the store across the street, and relax on your Friday night. So what if you had worn it out today - today was special .
The gold band on your finger feels like it weighs more now than it did this morning walking into work. How were you supposed to know that your evening class was full of miniature detectives, knock-off Sherlock Holmes looking to crack the case on their innocuous TA?
[Your Name]: not all of us want to be james bond with our personal lives mister i don’t even have desk pictures
[Levi Ackerman]: And look where that got you.
Levi subtly lifts his brows up at you from his desk. He has a point and you know it. But still - if you could just manage to make it the last five minutes, maybe you could avoid it. Afterall, you’re sure this bunch has plans for the weekend right? Maybe all the partying or whatever will make them forget about their preoccupation with your personal life!
[Levi Ackerman]: Incoming.
You get the message a second too late.
“Miss Assistant?”
The urge to let your head drop to the keyboard and keysmash around your dread to Levi is strong. Instead, you plaster on the brightest smile you can, looking up to the cluster of students putzing around before final dismissal. Stupid Levi and his stupid ‘the lecture notes don’t dismiss you I do’ bullshit.
Connie Springer beams back at you with unnerving intensity, his hand raised high and proud in the air. Surrounding him are his friends, all sporting various degrees of both amusement and embarrassment, but with that same curious gleam in their eyes. Of course it’s Connie, you moan internally, it always is.
“Yes?” You unbend at the waist from behind your laptop and lean a hip against the wood of your workspace. Better to brace yourself both mentally and physically for this incoming round of 20 Questions.
“Are you engaged?” Connie asks boldly and the sighs from his classmates follow, Kirstein dropping his head to rub his eyes while Ymir, all attitude and feet kicked up on the desk loudly whispers: “You can’t just ask like that, dumbass.” You put on a thoughtful front to the question, rubbing your chin between your thumb and forefinger. Two more minutes left.
Technically you were engaged at some point, so you couldn’t outwardly say no. If you did, they’d jump to the next step and you don’t want to make this easy on them. If they wanted answers, they were going to have to work just as hard as you did to try and avoid this confrontation all together.
“...In a way, yes.”
Next to Springer, another student raises his hand. Eren Jaeger, just as fresh-faced and unafraid of consequence, with an unnerving amount of determination in his eyes. You’re almost afraid to acknowledge him, tipping your chin in his direction.
“Are you engaged to Professor Ackerman?”
From the front of the room you hear the distinct sound of a sharp, wet inhale followed by a series of coughs and sputtering. You barely conceal the shit eating grin on your face, locking eyes with Levi who most definitely choked on his evening tea. They read murder and wordlessly, you bounce back karma, bitch with raised eyebrows and a subtle cock of your head. Judging by the way he narrows his eyes, he received the message loud and clear.
“Absolutely not. ” He grits out, wiping his mouth with the corner of his handkerchief. Pretentious shortstack.
“What he said.” You laugh, watching with glee as your students battle with suppressed laughter and wide-eyed shock. It would be easy to turn the attention on him, to make a sly comment about his personal life and confirm that he’s involved with someone , but you would never break his trust like that. He might be a jerk but he was also your closest friend.
“But,” Levi clears his throat, drawing your attention again with mild surprise. “Miss Assistant is married.”
Your closest friend that you were going to strangle with a room full of children (grown adults).
The reaction, of course, is chaos. Whatever unbridled energy the kids had been suppressing is aired out, loud calls of “I told you so!” mingled with whining about winnings between Connie and Jean. They seriously had a bet going? If you weren’t in shock, you’d ask what the jackpot was to demand a percentage for inflicted trauma.
Sending daggers at Levi, you cross the classroom to hiss between your teeth at him with an accusatory finger. “You traitor.”
He doesn’t even have the decency to look apologetic, expressing more dismay at the muted brown stain on his dress shirt. Serves him right. “They would have figured it out eventually.”
You want to argue that, no, they would’ve dropped it had he just dismissed them all, but a glance at the clock tells you that’s not the case. The time is three minutes past the official end of the night. You have a bigger problem now.
“Sunflower!” The classroom door swings open, a flurry of brown hair and loose paperwork barreling in without any regard for the students watching the scene unfold. There’s no time for you to react, to try and shush any affection starting to bubble out of your partner. You’re caught immediately in a bone crushing hug, a firm kiss pressed to your flushed cheek.
“Professor Hange?!”
You’re not sure which student the exclamation comes from, but you feel Hange startle in response, slowly turning their head to assess the room full of ogling college kids. And what a sight you’re sure this is, almost comical, really, to anyone casually passing through. Levi, disgruntled over a stain, your partner draped loosely over your rigid form, and a classroom of shell-shocked students that look like they’ve uncovered a massive clue to their mystery gang hijinks.
Sometimes, you’re convinced you’re living in a sitcom.
“Huh,” Behind their glasses, Hange blinks owlishly, lips twisting into that adorable not-quite-frown of confusion. Well, you thought it was adorable. Levi thought it looked like Hange was sucking on a lemon. “Why are you all still here?”
“Because Professor Ackerman is a cruel man.” You huff out, a hand coming up to rest lovingly on Hange’s waist as they pull themselves off of you. From his chair, Levi clicks his tongue and then stands, his chair rolling back. You get some satisfaction that even drawn up to his full height, he’s still shorter than you.
“Alright brats,” He calls out, fixing the students with a cool gaze. “You’re being too loud. Dismissed.”
Normally, they would have been rushing to leave, tripping over each other and shoving to make it out the door first (usually with incident and always between Jean and Eren). This time though, they all waver a little hesitantly, not wanting to disobey their fearsome professor but still burning with curiosity.
Man, you sigh with a smile of exasperation, if only they were this dedicated to their homework.
You hold up a finger, resisting the desire to ease yourself into the comfort of Hange at your side. They smelt like them , all crisp linen and cinnamon from the muffin you’d gifted them this morning, with an undertone of something most definitely chemical. Hopefully, it’s nothing toxic. “You get one more question. And then you’re all going to enjoy your weekend like normal college kids. Capiche?”
Hange chuckles softly, their shoulders shaking against you as they piece together the scene before them. “So they noticed the ring.” They whisper - an observation, not a question, and you nod.
“Surprisingly, yes.”
“What do you mean surprisingly,” Levi deadpans, cuffing the back of your head gently. You’re sure, if not for your mutual plans to celebrate tonight, he’d have tugged his coat on and left you both to deal with the kids by yourselves. “You talk with your hands. They were bound to pick up on it with how you were flaunting it around.” You open your mouth to protest that you were not flaunting it when Connie clears his throat and you readjust your attention.
There’s a fleeting moment where you fear they’re going to interrogate you about something wholly inappropriate. You hadn’t exactly laid out any ground rules and realize you were relying solely on Levi being the most feared professor on campus and what little respect being a TA garnered you.
Please no sex questions, please God do not ask about our sex lives.
“How did you end up marrying Professor Hange?” Connie asks, and your face flushes a soft pink. What a loaded question… You side-eye your partner, looking for an inkling of direction from their amused expression. They, of course, give you nothing but a look of fondness as if replaying the memories and getting lost in them.
It had been an…unusual circumstance.
Not too long ago, you had been a student from a different university, sneaking into Hange’s lectures despite majoring in a field that had nothing to do with genetic theory or biochemistry. Not too long ago, you had been caught and somehow rewarded with a coffee date in which Hange Zoe was oblivious to your pining until you graduated and wrangled yourself into a teaching assistant position (with the most perceptive asshole alive as your supervisor).
That had been a tumultuous few years, to say the least. But, your gaze drifts to the gold band on your finger, it all worked out in the end.
“Well,” You start tentatively, fingers curling subconsciously into Hange’s coat. “I used to be interested in their lectures here on campus,” Best not reveal you weren’t a graduate at the time, less the kids create their own scandal like they were prone to do - specifically Connie and Sasha. “And our paths crossed pretty frequently.”
Only because you made sure they did.
“Eventually, Hange asked to meet at Paradis Brews and, really, I didn’t know them that well…” You drift off, your smile turning soft at the genuine thump-thump of your heart in your chest. If Hange’s look was anything to go by, you both were looking quite smittenly at each other. “But one thing led to another.”
“One thing led to another.” Hange repeats, that contagious adoration seeping into their words.
From beside you, Levi makes a not-so-subtle retching noise followed by quiet coos from the other girls in the class. “Yes, yes,” Your friend rolls his gray eyes at you two, masking his own affection with callous annoyance in true Ackerman fashion. “And you both lived happily ever after. Repulsive.”
“He doesn’t mean that.” Hange amends, not bothering to look away from you as they wave him off.
“He cried at the wedding.” You add, grin turning devilish at the way his head whips towards you in your peripheral. You’ll pay for divulging that later when he makes you choke down whiskey, but it’s worth the way his neck flushes under the collar of his shirt.
“ Class dismissed. ” This time, the students don’t hesitate to scramble, their nosiness temporarily satiated. Sure, you have no doubt they’ll pepper you with more invasive questions next week, but with it out in the open now…it doesn’t feel like that grand of a secret anymore. It’s nice.
The three of you watch as the kids filter out of the room, calling out weekend well wishes over their shoulders and throwing congratulatory thumbs up at Hange, as if they were the ones with “a catch” and not the other way around. Hange laughs, shaking their head at the lightheartedness of it all. “What a good group of kids.”
“Royal pains in the asses.” Levi grumbles and you can’t resist leaning over to rest your elbow on his shoulder, inadvertently pulling Hange with you into a group smush.
“You could have let them leave early.” You tut, batting your lashes at him in an attempt to melt the icy glare shot up at you. He surprisingly doesn’t budge, doesn’t knock your elbow off of him or pinch Hange’s hand that comes up to affectionately ruffle his hair.
“If I let them leave early they’ll expect special treatment every Friday.” Levi mumbles, averting his gaze sideways from yours and Hange’s doting tag teaming. You’re sure if you looked closely, he’d have that soft pink flushing the back of his neck. Friendly closeness was still new to him, Hange had told you, and even within his own relationship PDA was minimal.
“But Levi,” Hange croons, draping themselves fully over the both of you and flaunting the best set of puppy eyes they could manage. “Today is special .”
“It is.” You remind him, watching his lips purse before his resolve finally gives out and he leans into what might be the most reluctant half-hug you’ve ever been on the receiving end of.
“Whatever. Happy anniversary, brats.” Levi jabs a hard elbow to your ribs. “You owe me a drink.”