#aot fanfic

[amywritesthings]

dating on airplane mode. | part three.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader Fandom: attack on titan (modern au) Word Count: 5.5k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - slow burn, mentions of sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @/saradika-graphics

part two. / part four. | masterlist

“You boned.”

“Annie!”

Eight o’clock in the morning and you’re already under attack.

Not a 'hello' or 'how are you' — just a crude accusation spoken very loudly in a very busy coffee shop.

You manage to salvage your coffee order before you can knock over the cup from shock, though the abruptness of Annie Leonhart’s proclamation sloshes some of the steaming liquid onto the table between you.

Annie doesn’t flinch when she answers.

“I see it in your stupid, beautiful face.”

“Can I please sit before you — I’m sorry, stupid and beautiful?”

“You are both. Don’t change the subject.” 

“You haven’t even let me—”

“I need every detail told to me in ways that would jeopardize our relationship with HR.”

Annie slides her sunglasses up to her hairline.

“Not that Shadis likes me to begin with.”

(Maybe you should have called out sick today.)

Drawing in a slow inhale through your nose, you give your colleague and friend a pointed look — as if somehow taking the ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ approach has ever worked on a woman like Annie.

“You almost made me drop my coffee,” you state instead.

“So you’re not denying it,” Annie catches, leaning halfway over the circular table. Her blue eyes sparkle with anticipation. “You met someone, and you did the do.”

“I did meet someone,” you confirm as you lean forward as well, matching her energy, “but no, we did not do the do. What are we in, high school?”

“Apparently,” Annie states with a growing grimace, unimpressed by your resolve. “Boring.”

Rolling your eyes, you pluck a sugar from the table to add to your piping-hot beverage.

“Fine, then you don’t get to hear about my boyfriend at all.”

Annie’s smug smirk drops to the floor.

Bingo.

You knew, out of anything you could have said, the b-word would trip up her war path.

Yet when you expect shock to follow, you’re treated instead with… worry?

(Well, that wasn’t the reaction you were expecting with the new relationship bomb drop.)

“Look me in the eye right now,” she demands, tone taking a serious curveball.

“I’ve only been looking at you this whole time, Annie.”

“Okay, well, keep staring at me.”

Annie takes a pause before quietly asking:

“I’m only going to say this once, because if I say it again I might throw up and have a stroke.”

“That’s… dramatic, but okay.”

“I care about you,” she starts with utmost sincerity.

Something uncomfortable bubbles in your belly, like the positive honesty feels weird — it is weird, coming from Annie, but still.

“I care about you a lot, okay? And I need you to know, because I care, that you really do not need to go back to whatever ridiculously stupid—”

“What?”

“—miscommunications he put you through. I know he has great hair and we’re surrounded by receding hairlines at the office so a full head makes it even more appealing, but—”

Oh.

Oh, no.

Without thinking, you dart your hand over the table and speak as fast as humanly possible.

“Ididn’tgobacktoPorco!” 

When Annie finally closes her mouth, you exhale and repeat with emphasis. 

“I did not go back to Porco.”

The tension in her face dissolves. “You didn’t?”

“Jesus, no, why the hell would I go back to Porco?”

“Because you said boyfriend, and it feels pretty sudden, so I just—”

“I said I met someone, Annie, not that I went back to someone.”

“It could have meant the same thing!”

Flopping back into your chair with a groan, you shake your head and bring the coffee cup to your lips. 

As you blow against the hot beverage, Annie seems to settle. Regroup. Assess.

“Okay, so it’s not Porco.”

“God, no. I’m pretty sure he’s still pleasantly happy with Pieck.”

“I don’t care what he’s happy with. Fuck that guy. So then it’s—”

A flicker of recognition passes over her face.

“—the eggplant guy?”

If only Levi could hear your work best friend describe him as the eggplant guy, given your text exchange before you ditched the bar last night. You’re not sure if you’d ever never live it down.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “The eggplant emoji guy.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. Holy shit.”

Annie, dazed and dazzled by this newfound information, sips slowly on her six-shot heart attack of a hot coffee.

You still wait to take a sip of yours, forever the cautious one, and let the edge of the coffee lid hover a breath away from your lips.

Is it okay to tell your friends about this?

You didn’t ask. 

Hell, you haven’t had much of a conversation about what any of this means yet other than the fact that this relationship is exclusive and not as fragile as you’ve been conditioned to believe.

(Somehow Levi has already dissuaded an anxiety it took other men months to try — and significantly fail — at quelling.)

“Where’d you meet him?” Annie asks, breaking through the start of the cobweb doubts and mysteries can often so easily spin. “At the bar last night?”

“Sort of?”

Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean, sort of?”

“Like…”

You trail off, trying to figure out the appropriate way to explain yourself.

“We technically met at the bar last night, for the first time?”

“Wait, so he’s a guy from a dating app?” Annie asks with a slight crack of confusion in her voice, sipping more of her coffee. “But I thought you got rid of those dating apps before the—”

She abruptly coughs, putting her drink down on the table in order to cover her mouth.

Ah.

There it is.

You knew you weren’t going to need to explain the situation very far with Annie. 

A natural-born detective, she puts two and two together before you have a chance to tease the miracle (mistake?) she’s conjured on a fateful napkin at a very shitty holiday party.

For a minute she stares at you, dumbfounded for what may very well be the first time in her life.

Her hand continues to cover her mouth. A tiny brown droplet bounces from her chin, dripping onto the wooden surface below.

Despite yourself, you feign nonchalance and finally take a sip of your coffee.

The warning sting causes you to wince and reluctantly sit the cup back down on the table.

Yep. Bad idea. Still too hot.

 “...it’s the Scout Services hotline guy?”

Annie’s voice barely registers past a whisper. 

Awe sweeps her expression—

Like she’s proud?

“Yeah,” you finally confess as if this coffee shop is a church ready to absolve your incoming sins. “The Scout Services hotline guy.”

Wooden legs creak as she scoots her chair closer.

Annie leans over the table with eager eyes and a mouth that’s catching flies.

“Did you stay over at his place last night?”

“No,” you concede, but you can’t help but add, “but I did see him twenty minutes ago.”

.

. — —

.

.

  There’s a difference between watching Levi work out from afar when you’re supposed to pretend you give two shits about the 90’s movie they’re playing on repeat between the morning news and music videos — 

— and watching Levi work out from afar when Levi is very aware that you cannot take your eyes off of him.

  After you locked the door to your apartment last night, getting ready for bed felt like a dream.

Grabbing water from the refrigerator felt like an adventure.

Shimmying out of your day clothes to an oversized t-shirt and sleep pants somehow felt exciting.

Like your world, once in sepia, had burst into technicolor.

For hours, a tingle lingered on your lips with the evidence of his boldness.

The ceiling was a makeshift projector, replaying the scene of him grabbing your face and pressing your into the wall of his apartment.

And, technically speaking, his bedroom would be right in this room, too.

Six floors up.

He’d been lying right above you, six floors up, for weeks, and you never knew.

By the time you finally found the relaxation to fall asleep, your alarm clock buzzed with the shrill urgency to start a brand new day. 

Truth be told, you didn’t care if you were tired.

Hell, even with bloodshot eyes and a dry mouth, you weren’t sure if you could actually be tired today.

Not when you had to pepper on some concealer and grab your best workout clothes to sprint a beeline to the gym.

(Something must be in the water if the gym could harbor this much excitement without seething sarcasm; the power of hyperactive horniness.)

Like clockwork, Levi was there — same workout bench, organizing the same class of free weights, but looking… lighter.

Maybe a little less serious.

Yet when the front door to the gym chimed with your entrance, his chin lifted instantly.

Searching eyes floated around, aimless with a flash of hope, until they eventually landed on you.

Something warm flickered across his face before he nodded once, a silent greeting.

Water bottle in hand, you raised your free hand to wave back before disappearing to put your stuff away.

By the time you left the locker room, Levi already began bicep curls in front of the mirror.

(Showoff.)

Slowly approaching the bench, you could feel the butterflies threaten to take over your entire body.

The way he so easily maneuvered you to that wall, the feeling of his lips on yours—

“Surprised you’re here so early,” Levi stated, bursting your dream bubble. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Bad news: the baritone in his voice was far worse in the morning.

(As if you needed any other reason to be distracted.)

“Something like that,” you confessed, unable to keep the smile from pursing your lips. “Are you always here this early?”

“Sort of.”

Levi paused to glance back at the weights he’s sectioned off at his bench before gesturing back to you.

“Actually wanted to catch you before you had work.”

You couldn’t stop the surprise even if you tried. “Oh?”

Right.

Because he knew what time you go to work.

Thanks to your motor mouth, he knew a lot of things about you.

Some would argue they’re things that no one else should.

It’s a little incredible that you could even look him in the eye after everything that had gone down between two telephones and a credit card.

Levi turned to set his free weights down on the bench below. He wiped his palms off on his hips and pivoted towards you.

For a minute you both waited there, saying nothing yet everything at the same time.

Silence usually freaked you out.

Not now.

Being in his presence was surprisingly perfect enough.

“Just wanted to wish you a good day at work, see if you slept alright, those sort of things."

"Oh," you lamely state again, trying your best not to break out into a giddy smile. "Well, I... appreciate the well wishes, and they're right back at you. Did you sleep alright?"

"Not exactly, but it wasn't a hinderance," he admits before jutting his chin at your body. "I like this on you."

"This what?"

"Your outfit."

Somehow his drive-by compliment had the power to wipe your memory of the outfit you chose between the time you left your apartment and now.

Your chin dropped to stare down at your clothes with a growing bashfulness.

“You do?”

Levi nodded once. “The color suits you.”

His words are so genuine that you couldn’t possibly come up with anything suave back.

Thank you? Too bland.

I think I look like shit? Lacking confidence was not a good look.

Instead you shrugged as nonchalant as possible and spoke—

“Well, you — you know, you look really good in white, so.”

You had to bite the tip of your tongue not to outright grimace. 

Smooth. Real smooth.

But not wrong — Levi was wearing a clingy white tank top and a pair of black basketball shorts. White was definitely in his color. It made the silver dog tags around his neck stand out louder.

"I meant it — the white looks great with your black hair, and I just —  please shut me up before I keep rambling about colors."

The corner of Levi’s lip curled upward briefly before he ducked his chin with a huff that almost sounded like a laugh.

As his head shook — in disbelief or modesty of his own, you couldn’t tell — his black hair swayed over his eyes.

“I could listen to you talk all day, you know that."

His tone was noticeably warmer now.

"But the attention to color is noted and appreciated."

Levi inhaled, taking a pause, before gesturing to the machines you’re usually situated at.

“Guess you don’t have much time before your shift?”

“Not really,” you confessed.

If it wasn’t for the fact that you promised Annie you’d meet her for coffee, then maybe you would have stayed a little longer. Talked all day, maybe, just to see if he was telling the truth.

“Well, I won’t keep you.”

Please do, you wanted to say.

Instead you nodded, pressing your lips together tightly. 

You weren’t sure if public displays of affection are on the table, so you gave a short, awkward parting wave.

Levi belatedly waved back, as if confused by the gesture.

“Have a good day at work,” he added before you turn.

As you made your way to the treadmill and assumed position, you noticed the way his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors watches your every move.

Eventually Levi turned to his set of free weights and began his typical routine — bicep curls, tricep extensions, back flies —

But every so often—

A glimpse.

After every set, a small but meaningful glimpse in the mirror found its way to you.

And shamelessly, for the first time in your life, you stared right back.

He watched as you departed for the showers and followed your departure through the exit.

.

. — —

.

.

“Holy shit. ”

“Yeah.”

To say you were giddy is an understatement.

Even now as you recount the brief meeting with your very-new, barely-a-day-old boyfriend, a flood of warmth unlike anything you’ve ever experienced washes over you.

“The insane odds that he’s been hot and sweaty at the same gym as you the entire time.”

Annie shakes her head, blowing her blonde side bang out of her face.

“I should’ve joined that stupid place when you asked.”

“Right? Shame on you,” you joke, attempting another sip of your coffee.

It’s still hot, but it doesn’t threaten to sear off your taste buds.

“Are his arms huge?” You shake your head, and Annie outright whines. “Oh, fuck, he’s lean?”

“He’s strong, I can tell you that.”

Pride.

Your tone is drenched in pure, unabashed pride.

(Because you are — proud, really, of the man you’ve managed to somehow charm into dating you despite the nagging feeling that he’s eons out of your league.)

As you dart your tongue between your lips to catch the remaining coffee, you watch as a dreamy Annie slowly but surely sinks back down into her chair.

Her brow pinches together, face scrunched in deep thought.

Then it smooths, though her one eye narrows to a squint.

“So then how does… everything work?” she eventually asks.

Annie reeks of skepticism, causing you to sit up taller in your chair.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you thought about it?”

“About what, Annie?”

“Y’know, the whole hotline thing.”

Right.

The hotline thing.

The part you haven’t quite processed yet.

Because at the end of the day, there is one very important truth:

Levi is an adult hotline operator.

Not only were you a former client as of a few days ago, but you are not naive enough to partake in the delusion that you were his only client.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of people called in nightly to get a fix.

There are only so many operators available nightly.

It wouldn’t be crazy to believe he has regulars.

Hell, he has the voice and the skill to possess an entire fanbase.

“Are you okay with that?” Annie adds as if she can hear your inner turmoil brewing within. 

Her tone reflects no judgement, for you or for him. 

It’s an honest question.

“I… have not gotten that far,” you are slow to start, choosing honesty as your best policy, before shaking your head. “I mean, yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah. I’m okay with that. I think I’m okay with that. I mean, I’m not stupid: a job like that is going to take a lot of… time and communication, but it’s a job just like anything else.”

“Like acting?” she supplies, and the haze is a little bit clearer.

“It’s technically a type of voice acting, right?” you agree, gesturing broadly with your hand. “And that’s certainly how this whole thing might have started out between us, but that’s not what it is now.” 

You may not be sure of many things in this world, but you’re pretty certain about that.

“It’s going to be a learning curve,” you continue, “but it isn’t like I’d ever ask him to quit his job over dating me.”

Annie nods and leans in to pick up her coffee, sipping slowly to gather her thoughts.

After a beat, she pulls the coffee cup away and speaks.

“You’re looking at this a lot more realistically than a lot of people would be, but I know that’s just how you are. A lot of people would be leery of that sort of occupation, so that’s why I asked. Not saying you have any reason to be concerned, it is a job, but boundaries and figuring out how to separate it from your former calls is… something to talk about.”

“And we will,” you reassure her earnestly. “Nothing about last night felt forced, if that makes sense. He’s… attentive? Intuitive? And he wants to talk things out. Do things right. Go slow.”

A grimace curls on Annie’s lip. 

“Go slow? What are we, in medieval times?”

“Annie.”

“I’m kidding,” she concedes, “sort of.” 

With a pause, she shifts in her chair and gestures with her hand at you. 

“Look, after all of Porco’s bullshit and the way the two of you ended in such a wishy-washy way, it’s nice to hear about a man that actually wants to communicate and go slow.”

“You really mean that?”

“Absolutely not, I’d die if the guy I was seeing went slow,” she replies, shaking her head wildly. “But we are two totally different people when it comes to romance. You love that whole wining and dining and waiting for the right moment shit, and I… do not.”

“Clearly.”

“And that’s why we gel so well.”

A genuine smile grows on her mouth. 

“But, seriously,” Annie continues. “I’m happy about anything that makes you happy. It might be unconventional, but aren’t most great things?”

She isn’t wrong.

Some of the greatest love stories ever told faced copious amounts of adversity and challenges.

Maybe dating Levi Ackerman will be one of the wildest adventures of your life, but you’ve fallen far too deep now to claw yourself out.

You want to see where this goes.

Where it could lead.

(To hell with conventional.)

As she lifts her coffee towards you, you catch Annie’s drift and lift your own.

The paper cups tap together in an early-morning ‘cheers’ of solidarity.

“And who knows?”

Annie smirks in devilish contemplation.

“Maybe he can tell me if my Bert’s actually tall, lanky, and breedable.”

“Annie!”

.

. — —

.

.

The day goes fast because everyone in your office is hungover.

Eren Yeager mourns the 80% tip he left for the bartender.

People ask where you went last night, but Annie — forever the wingwoman — tells them to mind their business, voice a hair too loud for their sensitive ears.

By the time you say your goodbyes at your desk, successfully avoiding your ex-boyfriend for yet another day in the office, the sun has already begun to set.

You beeline straight home with a gurgling stomach and a skip to your step.

When you get off of the elevator and make it to your front door, you notice a tiny green sticky note hanging right under the rounded peep hole.

In all capital letters, jagged and purposeful:

------------- DINNER, MINE, 8?

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Did Levi leave this on your door?

Is he seriously inviting you over tonight for dinner?

Ripping your phone from your pants pocket, you quickly look for Levi’s phone number. 

Although you’re fairly — if not completely — certain it’s him, you don’t want to presume it was a note left on the wrong door.

[ME:] Hey, quick question. Did you leave a note at my door?

Within seconds, a reply flashes in your notifications.

[LEVI:] Did it fall off?

[ME:] No, but there wasn’t a signature on the note

Three gray dots dance as he types.

[LEVI:] Shit, I didn’t leave my initials?

[ME:] Nope

[LEVI:] Well that’s embarrassing.

Unable to keep yourself from grinning, you unlock your front door and waltz into your apartment.

You lock it once more and kick off your shoes, padding across the floor towards your bedroom.

[ME:] lmao it isn’t embarrassing, but I accept

[LEVI:] Great. See you at 8.

You’re about to toss the phone on your bed to freshen up, but it buzzes again.

[LEVI:] Do you enjoy pasta?

[ME:] Love it

[LEVI:] Good.

After a few seconds pass, you’re certain that’s the end of the conversation.

It takes ten minutes to hastily wash your face, fix your clothes, and fuss over your appearance in the mirror to finally give up and accept this is as good as it’s getting on such short notice.

(Why does nothing sit right when it actually matters?) 

Confidence may be forced and fleeting, but you do your damnedest to hold your head up high when you enter the elevator and press on the button to illuminate Levi’s floor.

You can do this.

You can have a casual, very-last-minute dinner date.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding…

Ding.

The elevator doors open, and you make your way to the door you’d stumbled out of the night before.

Your knuckles rapt at the wood before you can chicken out, waiting for a response.

Muffled shuffling can be heard on the other side of the door before it flies open.

Levi Ackerman stands before you in a black apron tied around his neck and hips, obscuring the creme-colored Henley hugging his torso.

His emerald-green oven mitt sits idly against the edge of the door, creating a barrier between his apartment and the hallway.

“Hey,” he greets, and your heart melts.

“Hey.”

“Thanks for coming by. Hope you’re hungry.”

“Starved, actually.”

Something glows in the corner.

When your attention is ensnared by it, your eyes can’t help but widen.

On his small two-person dining table sits a tall candle burning on a cheap golden pillar.

There aren’t any other decorations or place mats. It’s just that sole candle, two folded napkins, and a set of silverware for each.

“My shitty friends told me it would be… appropriate to light a candle, when a date is coming over,” he explains slowly and all-too seriously. “I don’t typically light candles when I’m eating food.”

When he turns to glare at the barren romantics on his table, you note that the tips of Levi’s ears burn pink.

(As if you could be any more endeared.)

By the looks of the candle wax dripping down, it had been sitting there for a while.

“Candles are good,” you promise, toeing your shoes off at his front door. “I like candles.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I have like a million of them in my apartment.”

Levi can’t help but snort. “I have only this one that I picked up on my way home today.”

He steps out of the way to let you in and trudges back to the stove where several pots steam to a simmer.

Picking up the handle with the oven mitt, Levi carefully fills two circular plates full of seasoned spaghetti with a blush sauce and some basil drizzled on top.

Taking a seat by the candlelit table, you watch as he carefully picks up both plates and walks across the kitchenette towards you. He places both down simultaneously, serious in his delivery, before removing the mitt and apron to join you.

“How was work?” he casually continues once he sits.

“Same old boring stuff,” you confide, picking up your fork. “Do you cook often?”

“I do, yeah,” he confesses, mirroring your movements with his utensil. “Nothing elaborate, but it gets the job done. Do you?”

You scrunch your nose.

“When I’m not being lazy, sure. Instant ramen is my best friend, which is kind of a little sad. I want to start cooking more, but the drive doesn’t exactly hit me beyond, like, maybe once or twice a week. Leftovers are a godsend.”

There you go again.

As if rambling on the phone wasn’t enough, you can’t help but still do it in person.

The longer you talk, the more your brain screams at you to stop, but it’s that slight oversharing that always seems to sneak itself in.

An imperceptible smile graces his face. 

“Guess you’ll have to visit more during the week, then, so you go home with proper meals.”

The idea makes your heart flutter. 

“Guess I do.”

Both of you grow silent as you eat the (unbelievably) delicious meal he’s conjured.

You can’t get over how good a simple plate of spaghetti can be, but you imagine it’s whatever he’s done with the sauce that pushes it over the edge. 

After an exhausting day of office work, you try your damnedest not to scarf it all down.

Then you open your big damn mouth, not even thinking:

“Do you have work later?”

Because that’s what normal people ask, right?

About occupations, about schedules — it’s reciprocal to ask him about his job, but the metal of his fork scrapes across the plate as his hand completely stills. 

Levi’s attention rises back to you, fleeting apprehension in his gaze.

“I’m supposed to,” he cryptically replies.

“Supposed to?”

A hush falls over the intimate crowd.

Your brows knit as you attempt to decipher what isn’t being said.

Levi remains still, doing the same in return from the other end of the table, before slowly answering.

“If… you don’t want me to clock in, then I understand.”

When your eyes widen with the implications, he shakes his head and sets down the fork.

“I mean to discuss this with you before we go further anyway.”

That festering self doubt from the night before begins to creep up the veins of your hands, towards your hammering heart.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Levi huffs. “I understand my occupation isn’t conventional. Most people wouldn’t put up with the—”

“Put up with?”

You blurt, accidentally disrupting the beginning of his speech.

Setting down your own fork, you rest your hands in your lap as you put on your brave pants and take a leap of faith.

“Levi, I’m not asking you to quit your job over me.”

His head turns a fraction of an inch, eyes narrowed.

“It’s like acting, right?” you continue, returning to the conversation you had earlier with Annie. “It isn’t… real. I mean, not really. You put on a character and it—”

“Let me just stop you for a second. Please.”

Levi sits up taller, softening his tone despite the firm interruption.

“I meant what I said to you last night. You’re the only person I have ever crossed that line for, and our connection is something that will never happen again. I want this to work, so I’ll be as transparent as you need me to be so you never feel as if my job is anything but what you said — acting. Yes, it is a character. And no, Levi on the hotline is…”

He sighs heavily, as if this is a heavy burden he’s carried.

“That Levi is not this Levi sitting across from you.”

“I know.” 

You find a moment of bravery to not only interject, but reach across the table to grab the hand resting its surface.

Levi momentarily tenses at the touch before overturning his hand, curling his fingers around the edge of your palm to your wrist.

“I need you to know that I’m fine with being your cheerleader,” you promise, “and I’m not saying that just to… I don’t know, trick you someday down the line.”

Levi’s expression softens.

“You’re allowed to change your mind about me, though.”

“I know,” you repeat with a hint of amusement. “I’m not kept captive on the sixteenth floor. I very much want to be here, with you, eating dinner. Maybe a couple of times a week if you’re not too busy.”

“Never too busy, no,” he replies, softly running his fingertips along the inside of your wrist in a soothing manner. “My door’s wide open for whenever you want to spend time here.”

You burst into a grin. “Just not during your work hours.”

You can’t believe it.

Levi opens his mouth to respond, but a pinkish hue sprinkles across his cheeks and spreads up and under his black fringe to his ears.

You made him blush?

“You… I mean, maybe one day you could,” he nearly sputters. “I don’t recommend it — not because it’s too explicit, but it — Sorry, you caught me off guard with that.”

To say it feels empowering to throw confident, dominant Levi off of his axis is an understatement.

You can’t help but abandon your food and lean your elbow on the table.

Leaning against it, you glance down at your joined hands and purse your lips to avoid smiling.

Ideas.

Very bad ideas swirl like a surprise storm in your mind.

With this newfound shift in dynamics, of testing the waters of what this is in comparison to what you previous had, you can’t help but open your mouth and ask one very pointed question:

“Do you need a warm up?”

Levi’s brows knit as he stares you down, studying the forced neutrality on your face. 

“A… warm up?”

You’re not sure what you’re saying right now.

Your lips move, sure, and you hear your voice, but your brain is about three words behind.

“Just saying, since you’re working tonight. Like how Broadway performers do a vocal warm up before they go out on stage, if you needed—”

“You want me to warm up for my job for the night... by telling you how to get off?”

Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re proposing in this momentary lapse of judgement.

"In my own apartment," he clarifies, "right in front of me."

Levi isn’t even actually trying and all the heat shoots straight between your legs.

Maintaining eye contact, you can’t help but swallow.

"I guess that's kind of moving too fast, huh?"

“A little," he confesses, but there’s an element of breathlessness to his voice.

Is it a stupid idea? Maybe.

One could argue jumping into a relationship with the guy you were having hotline sex with for a week is also a stupid idea.

You never claimed to be a smart woman.

"And I know you want to take things slow, but..."

As you trail off, recognition passes across the dark-haired man's face.

Then — an almost playfulness in his tone, if you really listen closely.

"...but I’ve already heard you come at least twenty times in twenty different ways over the phone before I even got to ask you out," Levi finishes for you, "so I think it’s safe to assume we make our own rules.”

Unconventional.

What your best friend called this relationship skitters across your mind; a reminder that no matter how by the book you do this, it’ll still be a little off-kilter.

(And you realize you like that.)

“And how about a twenty-first?” you ask.

"I wouldn't say no," he blurts, then explains. "I... want to go slow, yeah, but I can't lie and say I don't miss hearing you."

You can't stop your brows from flying up.

"You miss hearing me—"

"Yeah."

The room feels ten degrees hotter, and it isn't the candle's fault.

Levi's throat bobs as he heavily swallows.

“Are you positive about this?”

Are you?

Your attention is unwavering when you respond. “Only if you want to, too.”

Expression still neutral, Levi contemplates.

His eyes drop blatantly to your lips, lingering, before they return to your face. And, with barely a whisper—

“I need to hear you say yes or no. Explicit consent. You know me.”

Anticipation floods your veins.

You nod, then for good measure, “I do. Yes.”

“And you know you can stop at any time.”

“Yes.”

“Because I’m still taking you out on that damn date.”

“I don’t doubt you, Levi.”

Levi inhales, slow and steady, through his nose at the sound of his name on your lips.

“...color?”

Something about hearing the stoplight measures vibrate in his very throat makes you more than ready to throw caution to the wind.

“Green.”

A hand raises as Levi’s hand runs across your cheek.

His thumb glides along your lower lip, right to left, before settling at its center. 

Testing the give — the submission — the pad of his thumb tugs your lip down.

It’s met with no resistance.

“Then take a seat on my bed.”

.

Author's Note:

The AO3 author curse hit me, but guess who is back!

I appreciate all of the comments on AO3 and the messages here in my absence with this story. The enthusiasm (and re-reads oh my gosh, I could send you all little treats for the re-read messages!) has seriously been my north star for the last four months. We are, in fact, getting spicy as hell next chapter.

Thank you for any reblogs, replies, etc. Every comment gives this writer wings.

[thedgeoftheuniverse]

AND IN THEIR TRIUMPH DIE | chapter 3

— Seven years after the Outbreak, all efforts to find a cure have been unsuccessful. Nearly a forgotten pipe dream, it's kept alive by a small team of scientists scattered across the country and fiercely guarded by what remains of the military. It was coincidence that brought the missing piece to the cure to Levi. It was sheer misfortune that it would carry him across the country.

[ WORD COUNT: 5.1k ]

[ levi ackerman x fem!reader ]

[ TAGS/WARNINGS: violence, mentions of loss of a limb/severed limbs, cursing, mentions of a gun/gunshots. please continue with caution if these are sensitive subjects for you <3 ]

In the seven years that passed since the downfall of humanity, Levi had a surplus of free time to imagine how he would meet his end—sepsis was his most prevalent theory, given the abysmal amount of remaining sterile medical supplies, closely followed by a hairline scratch he would likely sustain from saving Hange’s ass that would turn him into a shitty, mindless corpse.

This one—being face-to-face with a half-rotted Infected while he tries to reach its skull cavity through mushy, decaying eyeballs and his weapon stuck beneath his feet in the floorboard of a shitty Camry—was not anywhere close to the top of the list.

Hell, it might not have even been on the list.

Coagulated blood poured onto his hands and across his lap. It may have been the single most disgusting thing he had ever found himself subjected to, but he did not have the time to gripe. Besides, it was still preferable to losing his windpipe. Sparing a brief moment to check his lap, Levi felt a wave of relief noticing no open wounds—more importantly, no contaminated blood had entered his body so long as he kept a tight grip on the beast to prevent any jagged bone from slicing his hand. 

The creature roared, and Levi knew he had mere seconds left to finish the job before it called over every one of them that you already lured away.

He’d be damned if his own death saved your sorry ass.

With his thumb, index, and middle fingers on his left hand buried into the monster’s eye sockets, Levi used his free hand to feel around in the passenger seat of the car, hoping beyond all hope that a knife or crowbar would materialize in his hand. When he only came in contact with dirtied napkins, an empty wallet, and a couple of old CDs, he began to realize he would have only one option to make it out alive; the machete was out of the question—grabbing it meant freeing his hand and giving the bastard an invitation to his carotid artery. Levi was fast, but even he did not trust his luck in that scenario. Even if he could reach it, his right hand was not the most reliable.

He inhaled deeply, suppressing a look of disgust on his face while doing so, and gathered every ounce of strength he had.

The skies began to open, and rain saturated the ground. Levi prayed it would not be enough to make him lose his footing.

(Erwin owed him for this shit.)

In a burst of momentum, Levi threw the door open, using the force from the door and a rough shove with his trapped hand to push the Infected hard enough that it stumbled back. He managed to open a large enough space to squeeze through (he’d never been so thankful for his small stature) and slip behind it—Abnormals were freakishly intelligent, but even the worst of them amounted to very little without proper eyesight. The three-second opening he won himself from practically skull-fucking it on his fingers was enough. Levi came behind the beast and kneed it at the back of its calves to send it to the ground. 

In normal circumstances, his foot would have taken care of the rest.

In normal circumstances, he would have been able to spare five seconds to locate his machete.

In this circumstance, Levi couldn’t support his full weight on his sprained ankle; he couldn’t bash in its skull with it either, and the second Abnormal had its head tilted at him in intrigue like a lost puppy. Not to mention, the ground was slicked with rainwater, oil, and blood, making the possibility of busting his ass on the pavement significantly higher.

With a grimace that he could not suppress, Levi resorted to his only option.

Returning his fingers to their previous home in the Infected’s eye sockets from behind, he pulled and pulled back until he felt tendons hyperextend and bones give way. He pulled harder until the neck snapped. Applying just a little more pressure, he detached the head entirely with a sickening snap, following suit. Blood spurted, repainting the gore that had been washed away from his cloak in the rain. He jerked back, covering his mouth from the spray.

(Another reminder.)

(He still forgets his own hands.)

Sparing no time, he reached into the floorboard for his machete and made quick work of the second Abnormal. 

—

In spite of the shitstorm that he navigated and being covered, quite literally, head to toe in entrails (which smelled horrific after practically baking in the sun, marinating with rainwater, and then baking again in the sun), Levi almost dared to consider himself lucky.

He jump-started the car flawlessly, recalling the process he learned as a teenager with surprising ease.

The only hang-ups in the plan—being the minor rain shower and the Abnormals breaking from the rest of the horde—had no significant impact on the outcome.

By some miracle, maybe even divine intervention, you did not fuck up, and you did not leave him behind to save yourself. When he pulled the car around to the storefront, everyone was stacked at the door, ready to pile into the car with bags of supplies in hand.

Erwin and Hange made themselves useful by packing up as many supplies as they could manage.

Eren was still alive.

He could hardly believe it.

And the car, however much he hated it, ran smoothly and had a half tank of gas to get them the hell out of the city.

(He could already practically hear Erwin’s well-rehearsed ‘I told you so.’)

(Sickeningly suave to be such a heartless bastard.)

The only thing dampening his mood was the searing pain throughout his body, and you.

How Hange sang your praises in the car, raving about how incredible you were and how this could not have been done without you; how they were surely goners if you hadn't stuck your neck out for total strangers; how finding you was the miracle they needed. It made his blood boil, made him seethe with the knowledge that you may have just cemented a spot for yourself in the group, despite knowing nothing about you; not how you found yourself alone and starving while holed up in a building full of food, not why you were desperate to help three strangers that could've easily killed you or why you risked your life to save them, not why you were even more eager to come along with them. Something did not add up—something was off, and it infuriated him that Erwin and Hange could not see it.

Maybe they could, but did not care.

You must have done something—said something while he was unconscious, somehow bewitching the two of them into believing whatever story you concocted.

He was going to figure it out.

Levi spent most of the drive in silence, running through every possible outcome of taking you to their base.

You may have looked malnourished and meek, but he had a hard time believing you to be as such. You faced a horde of Infected, used yourself as live bait, and fired a gun off in a city filled with the dead with little more than a moment of hesitation. You showed no fear of him or his (very real) threats towards you, and the sight of Eren’s amputation did little more than mildly curl your lip and turn your stomach.

No, he knew you weren't weak.

Far bigger cowards than you tried to steal their home before and almost succeeded.

He wouldn't let it happen again.

After around an hour of tense silence, they made it out of the city. There was just enough gas to get past the worst of the Infected, but now, they were running on fumes—the fuel would have to have been from before, meaning it broke down rapidly. So, despite the half tank they left with, they found themselves sputtering and sitting on a bold, red ‘E,’ with about twenty miles of their journey remaining. 

Hange let out an overdramatic cry, “We can’t walk! Not with Eren.”

“No shit, four eyes.”

“Don't be rude!” They swatted at Levi’s head, slightly mussing his hair in the process.

Erwin, who was comically jammed in the backseat with his legs digging into Levi’s back in front of him, interjected, “If my memory serves me correctly, there should be a salvage yard roughly a mile from here. Hange and I will go. We should be able to siphon enough fuel to make it back.”

“And I’m supposed to do what? Sit here?”

“Yes.” Levi shot him a glare where their eyes met in the rearview mirror. “Stay here. Watch Eren and the car.”

“Tch. So, I’m playing babysitter now.” He folded his arms across his chest, a telltale sign of his annoyance. “Fantastic.”

“Your ankle is injured. You may have further injuries that we cannot accurately assess. Furthermore, someone needs to be here if Eren does not make it.” The boy in question was laid across Erwin’s and your lap, looking significantly paler than when Levi had gone for the car.

The situation was dire, exacerbated by every wasted minute. The thought of returning Eren’s dead body to Mikasa was enough to make him sick.

“What about her?” 

“Blue is staying. She will help you guard the car if it comes to that.”

Levi could only offer a curt nod before he opened the door, which was still covered in blood and entrails. He had thankfully been able to ditch the cloak and found himself, aside from his hands, not much more disgusting than he had been accustomed to. Still, he needed a damn shower. The rest of the group followed behind him to gather on the side of the road, aside from Eren, who was carefully laid across the back seat, and Erwin, who remained by the car.

“Levi.” Erwin's voice called behind him. He tilted his head slightly up and to the side, signaling that he wanted to speak with Levi. Privately.

“You froze—again.”

“Tch. And?”

“It has been happening more often lately. Are you sure going on runs is still the right job for you?”

“Are we seriously having this conversation right now?”

The taller man nodded, following with, “Yes.”

Levi sighed, shifting his weight to one side and placing a hand on his hip. He was silent for a moment. “I’m fine. Rest of these idiots couldn't find a tree to piss on without me pointing them in the right direction.”

“Okay.”

He hated these games.

“Just say what you actually mean.”

Erwin looked almost hesitant to speak, which was Levi’s first sign that he did not, in fact, want to hear what he had to say. “It was around this time of year when—”

“No.” Levi’s blood boiled at the words he knew were leaving Erwin’s mouth. “You know damn well I’m the strongest here. I'm no use on the sidelines.”

“I do. That is not what I am trying to insinuate.” Despite his taller stature, Erwin made a point of appearing to look at, rather than down on, Levi. Their friendship was more than ten years strong, but Levi had a hair-trigger temper on his best days, and Erwin knew it.

It was always two steps forward and one step back with him. A constant push and pull, entirely dependent on an indiscernible cause.

(He didn't have many good days anymore.)

“I know you are in more pain than you will care to admit, even to yourself.”

“Tch. Piss off.”

“We have the treatments you need. Hange’s physical therapy has significantly helped you. We can do more.”

“That was before—”

“You should speak with Armin.”

“I don't need a damn therapist.” Levi countered. Erwin was already walking away.

The two of them regrouped with you and Hange. Hange had used the time to gather a few supplies: a water bottle, a couple of granola bars, a few rounds of ammo, two knives, and an empty bag to bring back anything useful they may find at the salvage.

“We shouldn't be more than two hours. We’ll try to be closer to one.” Erwin said.

“Don’t die. That's an order.”

Erwin jokingly saluted Levi with a fist over his heart.

(He could never be bothered to return it.)

(Even before.)

Hange’s face lit up at Levi’s unique show of concern. “Aww, dontcha worry, Captain! We’ll be back in no time!”

“I wasn't talking to you.” He deadpanned.

“Sure you were!”

“The salvage should only be a fifteen, perhaps twenty minute walk. I’m sure we will be able to find a gas can and a couple of gallons of fuel. Enough to be a reasonable distance from the gates so that Hange can run down and have Mikasa or Armin run a car up.”

“Then quit talking already and get going. The kid looks like shit.”

Erwin lightly chuckled before herding Hange in his direction, leaving Levi alone with Eren and you.

God, he hated you.

You stood there, leaning against the trunk of that car, like you belonged there, digging through a pack filled with who-knows-what while Erwin and Hange risked their lives again; while Eren was slowly dying in the backseat of the car; while he wanted to go the fuck home and be left alone.

(Even in spite of summer, he felt so bitter and cold.)

“Could you stop glaring at me?”

“What’s in that pack?” Levi had seen it on you when the two of you left to retrieve the car. It didn't matter; he knew it didn't; he wanted to provoke you, see what made you tick; more importantly, what details would slip when you weren't clear-headed. “Doesn't look like something Hange and Erwin packed up. Looks like it's yours.”

You didn't respond.

It pissed him off.

You pissed him off.

“Hey. I’m talking to you—the fuck is in the bag?” He started limping towards you, now hyper-aware of the pain in his ankle. It seemed his bandage had loosened, combining with the lack of adrenaline to cause him significant pain. Still, he would not show you any weakness, so he kept his pace until he came face-to-face with you and tried ripping the bag out of your hand.

“What the fuck is your deal?” With surprising strength, you tore the bag away before his fingers could wrap around the handle. “I risked my life to save you and your friends, and I haven't gotten so much as a ‘thank you’ from your sorry ass all day!” You poked at his chest with your index finger to enunciate your point. 

You finished rummaging through the pack, first grabbing out two granola bars and a bottle of water. “Supplies, asshole. I always keep a stash on me.” 

You threw a fresh bandage at his chest.

“If you can figure out how to stop being a dick, I’ll wrap that back up for you.”

“I don't need your help.” He threw the bandage back at you.

“My sister was a nurse—taught me a thing or two. So, sit down, shut up, and let me wrap that before you make it worse than it is.”

If this was your way of extending an olive branch, Levi hated you even more for it.

But, for once, he was too tired to argue with you anymore; his ankle had its own heartbeat, he had hardly eaten for days, his head was pounding, and his good eye was blurry from exhaustion.

“Fine.”

—

Despite having allowed you to wrap his ankle, Levi did not trust you.

That much was made clear to you by the broken machete laid across his lap with the tip pointed towards you. And by every word he had spoken to you since your initial meeting.

He hated you.

Part of you wondered if he planned to kill you before Hange and Erwin got back.

He didn't seem to be above killing women.

For now, you and Levi sat, heads leaning against the trunk of the car as far apart as you could manage. Time ticked by slowly, more severely each time his lethal glare was directed at you.

You were afraid of him.

You could never let him know it. You could not let him know he held any power over you. 

Knowing your luck, he already knew.

On top of everything, your stomach was turning, and you needed a distraction from it. It was far too early to be raising any alarms.

“How far are we?”

“Twenty, maybe twenty-five. Give or take.”

“Minutes or miles?”

“It's a surprise.” He deadpanned.

“What's it like?”

“You'll see when we get there.”

“Why can't you just tell me?”

“Why do you ask so many damn questions?”

You sighed heavily. Conversing with Levi felt about as easy as talking to a brick.

“How long have you guys been running together?”

For the first time since your exchange, Levi turned to face you, but only to ask, “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Only once I'm satisfied.”

Levi glared at you with another clench of his jaw, and your stomach twisted harder. You hated being a nervous talker.

He eventually responded. “From the beginning.” 

“Did you know each other before?”

“Yes.” You noticed a clench in his jaw.

“How?” Another glare. Despite your fear, it was almost fun getting under his skin. You hadn't had much in terms of human contact in several weeks; even if he killed you for it, you were ecstatic to have someone to talk to. “Were you military? Hange called you Captain.”

“Don't see how that concerns you.”

“If I’m joining you, I think I deserve to know something about you.”

“That's still debatable.”

“Not if you ask your friends.”

You realized a moment too late that you pushed your luck with Levi too far. Before you could react, you were on the ground with hot asphalt digging into your back. Levi, who had been sitting at least four feet away from you beforehand, was now on top of you with his machete held at your throat and his thighs around your waist. He used his right arm to both balance himself and cage you underneath him; his breath was hot and heavy, and, despite his stature, he towered over you in a way that made you feel weak. He seemed to make a careful effort to keep as little of his body on yours as possible—like touching you was the most vile thing he had done all day.

He was deceivingly strong, leaving you no room to break free unless you wanted to be relieved of your windpipe.

You did not.

You knew you couldn't win that fight, anyway; not in your condition. The last few weeks were hell, and it wasn't until yesterday you could stomach more than a couple of crackers. You were barely breathing, as is. 

So you did what he wanted—you submitted to his overwhelming presence and let him have the upper hand.

He leaned over you, his face directly in front of yours in a gesture you knew was meant to intimidate you. It did—even still, being so close, you could not help but appreciate what a domineering figure Levi truly was.

The scars marring his otherwise perfectly porcelain skin gave an edge to him and his incessant glaring; you thought he may have looked younger if he ever relaxed his face, though he still looked no older than mid-thirties. The largest of his scars, running from his temple through his eye, lips, and down to his chin, was the most interesting. His eye appeared to be mostly nonfunctional, judging from what little you could see of the milky iris. And his intact eye? It was the most unusual shade of silver that you had ever seen. Paired together, with his angular glare and thin brows, he looked terrifying, though you're sure that fact remained the same before his injuries. He was all harsh edges, sharp-tongued, and hot-tempered; his body was slim, and he couldn't have been much more than five feet in height, but his sinewy thighs against your waist and protruding bicep near your face told you that was not indicative of his strength. Judging from the purposeful pressure he applied at your midsection, he could cause you serious harm if he wanted to.

(He did.)

He would have been impressive if he did not want to kill you.

Maybe he still was.

“I don’t know what you said to Erwin to make him believe whatever bullshit story you spun, but I’m not buying it.”

Your breath was heavy and your heart pounded. Against your better judgment, you couldn't keep quiet. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

You sounded more unsure of yourself than you intended.

“Yes, you do.” He shifted his weight and dug a knee into your sternum. You felt the bile rise in your throat as he towered above you with his back straight and cut his eyes to look down on you. “You're hiding something, Blue, and I'm going to find it. You'll be lucky if I don't kill you when I do.”

You felt sick.

There was no way for him to know.

“When you figure it out, let me know.”

You could see that he wanted to escalate further, but he opted to remove himself from your sternum instead. 

You couldn't help but notice his right hand as he lifted himself off of you—wrapped in a bandage with his index and middle fingers missing. How had you missed that? He may have been a sanctimonious prick, but you were above letting anyone—even a stranger—suffer because of your personal opinions.

Life was far more precious than you.

“Your hand—”

“Don't.”

“Did that happen out there? Don't you need to—”

“Are you fucking deaf?” He snapped. You expected anger in his eyes, but he was almost… uncomfortable? “I don't need you looking after me.”

“I was just trying—”

“Stop. Talking.” His nostrils flared slightly. “It’s old. Leave it alone.”

“Fine. I'll be in the car if you need me,” you sighed. The nausea was becoming overwhelming, and you did not want to further stir Levi’s suspicions. There was no way for him to know, but you feared for your resolve in the face of his scrutiny. His senses were unusually sharp, likely from his military experience, enough so that he found something when you gave him nothing.

“Wait.”

Before you could finish responding, Levi was jerking you up from the ground and frisking you. “You're kidding.”

“No. I don't trust you.” He said as he patted you down. His back seemed to be in pain; there was a subtle catch in his movement as he leaned down to check your socks. “The fuck is with the long sleeves?” He asked as he moved up to your waist and arms.

You almost panicked. He shouldn't be able to feel it, right? “All that I had.” You rushed out.

He didn't believe you, but—shockingly—he let it go.

If he felt anything unusual, he didn't find it worth interrogation.

(In hindsight, no one is going to be searching for that. Not like this.)

He finished off by patting down your bra and underarms with the back of his hands. His amount of respect and tact shocked you—if anything, he looked far more uncomfortable about touching your breasts than you did. “If he…” His eyes trailed to the car and then to the ground.

He didn’t want to say it. “If he dies, you call for me.”

“Of course.” You gently responded.

(He wasn't your friend to put down.)

Levi let you walk to the car without further hassle, much to your relief. You chose the passenger seat, not before opening the back and using one of the supply bags packed by Erwin and Hange as a makeshift pillow for Eren. You used your own to elevate his leg. Levi’s eyes burned a hole into your skull through every second you spent at Eren’s head.

When you finally settled, it seemed like your nausea was exacerbated tenfold. Finally alone, you were able to assess the extent of the damage. With a gentle rolling of your sleeve, you examined your wound. A barely-there scratch, no more than an inch long and hardly wider than a blade of grass; enough to make you sick but not enough to rouse suspicions of infection. It felt almost poetic that it was smack in the middle of the marred, scarred, ruined skin from your first bite; inoffensive enough, but still the one that brought you to this godforsaken state to begin with, the one that landed you alone in the middle of an overrun city, the one that resulted in the death of your friends one by one, the one that brought you here with complete strangers, one of whom desperately wanted to kill you. All of whom would likely want to once they inevitably found out what you were.

You couldn't let that happen.

The bite was downright offensive in appearance—all jagged edges, discolored skin, puffy tissue forming, and teeth marks. It still hadn't fully healed. The bastard tried his best to kill you. You were only alive because of luck. He couldn't have foreseen his failure, but the scar wouldn't let either of you forget. You think it made him afraid of you, which was likely why he ran instead of finishing the job.

The scratch on the rooftop was an accident, and were it not for the placement, you could've covered it easily. 

You weren't foolish enough to intentionally test your luck, but you were scared of storms. Nothing overly dramatic, but being on an open rooftop surrounded by exceptional conductors for lightning and no cover was enough to startle you into losing your footing when thunder rolled across the sky; you were grabbed by a half-rotted hand with a missing finger. The exposed, jagged bone ripped your skin.

Maybe you would be fine.

Maybe you wouldn't even get sick this time.

It wasn't its teeth; there was no saliva or excess blood in the wound; you have rubbing alcohol to sanitize. Maybe you’ll get off easy with a minor stomach ache, and you'll keep up the omission for a while longer.

More than likely, Levi will kill you.

For the time being, you focused first on cleaning the wound. You weren't sure what difference it would make, but you knew it couldn't hurt. You spared a quick glance at Eren, just to make sure he wasn't secretly watching you—he wasn't. You carefully poured rubbing alcohol on the wound, using the corner of a mostly clean rag to blot away the excess blood and alcohol. It burned, made you want to whimper in pain, but you knew better than to risk alerting Levi.

Using your knife, you cut away the bloodied corner of the rag and stashed it in the glove compartment.

They didn't need to see that.

More important than your scratch, you could not stay here. Not for long, at least. Erwin and Hange seemed like good enough people, and while Levi may have been ill-tempered and hostile, it was not without reason, but you had a job to do—a duty. Something only you could do. You couldn't abandon that because the plan fell apart.

(It never stayed together to begin with.)

Plagued with thoughts of your next move, it was not long before exhaustion overtook your body, and you fell into a peaceful sleep.

—

Hange and Erwin returned within their promised timeframe.

They arrived with two gas cans appearing to be full based on the awkward manner in which Erwin carried them, an overflowing backpack, and a completely ridiculous bucket cap adorning Hange’s head. Levi shuddered to think what kind of filth the last owner could've infested it with.

“Took you long enough.” 

“Where’s Blue?” Hange questioned.

“In the car. Sleeping.” He responded. “Take that ridiculous thing off.”

“Can't make me!”

He responded to them with his trademark tch and moved on. “Erwin, you can’t be serious about bringing her with us.”

“I am.” He almost looked amused, and it pissed Levi off. “It’s a gut feeling.”

“So, you're risking our lives on another one of your gambles?”

“You could say that.” He would have followed Erwin to hell and back—he practically already had; through unfamiliar countries, through battle after battle, through the most gruesome wars, and through the most unspeakable requests. He had killed for his friend and almost died for him—he lost two fingers and nearly half his eyesight for him. He would have done anything for his friend. But this? He could not shake the feeling that this decision would be the one gamble that did not pay off for him.

He couldn't lose anyone else.

“Levi.” He spoke softly, “Do you trust me?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I need you to listen to me, then. I am aware that she is hiding something from us.” Levi could not mask his confusion.

“Then why are you taking her to our home—where we sleep, where all of Hange’s research is?”

“I do not believe she is dangerous, not physically at least. Most importantly, I think what she is hiding will be useful for us.”

“And if it's not?”

“Then I trust you will have no issues with putting her down.”

Levi nodded in response.

“Enough of all of that!” Hange interjected, “I’m ready to go home!”

“So, what's the plan now?”

“Levi,” Hange whined, extending their syllables.

He ignored them, increasingly irritated with their antics. “Can’t imagine that bearded shit isn't wondering why we didn't make our check-in this month.”

“We will figure that out with Armin. He is more familiar with our fail-safes.”

Another nod. 

“One more thing,” Erwin said. Hange pouted. “Under no circumstances will we discuss our research until we are certain of what she is hiding.”

“I get it. Showing her where we sleep is fine, but research is off limits.”

“Since you are so distrusting of her, Levi, you will be appointed to keep watch until I can decide she has earned our trust.”

“What?” Oh, he could have strangled him. Was this punishment for insubordination? He had better things to do than be a babysitter.

“I am taking you off of supply runs for the next few weeks while you recover.” The fury in Levi's chest only grew. He wanted to wipe that self-assured, smug grin off of his face. “This will be your job in the meantime.”

“No, no, no.”

“You will.”

“I’m not a damn babysitter!”

“Looks like you are, now!” Hange chimed in.

“Can it, four eyes.”

“Aw, c’mon! It won’t be that bad. She’s pretty cute, at least. Could be stuck with an old sourpuss like you.”

“She makes me sick.”

[ a/n: wowie!! long time no see!! planning to be updating regularly again <3 ]

[http-tokki]

Levi comes up beside you, hand sliding over your waist to rest on your hip and hold you close.

"I don't know how to approach this so I'm going to break it down." there’s a hint of apprehension in his voice.

"Uhh, okay?" you're confused and look up at him to give him a look.

"You know I respect you right? and that I know you're not an object?" he waits for your answer.

A huffed laugh leaves you, "Yes? why, where are you going with this?'

"So thats been established. I don't see you as an object to possess or own?” another pause for your acknowledgment. " I just want to make that clear because I don't want to say anything that's gonna make you think that I own you or-

"Levi, what are you talking about?'

"There's a guy over there," he nods his chin in the direction of said man. "Who has been staring at you all night and I really don't like it and I wanted to talk to you about it but I didn't want you thinking I was being possessive. I just don't like the way he is looking at you, like he wants to own you or something but you belong to - wait never-mind, I just don't like it."

"Levi?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you belong to me?"

He pauses for a moment to really think about how to answer you. "Yes, I think I belong to you."

"And do you think I belong to you?'

"Well, I like to, I hope you do."

"Then I do."

"But you know its not in a toxic way, I'm not being controlling.”

"Yes, baby I know, but for all intents and purposes, you belong to me and I belong to you.”

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

NSFW AoT boys x reader and how they would respond to trying “No Nut November”

no nut november

ft: eren, connie, levi, jean, erwin, porco, zeke, armin

cw: smut ? but it’s pretty tame- not really descriptive

18+ MDNI NSFW

eren thinks no nut november is stupid and a made up thing meant to make virgins feel better about themselves. he doesn’t care about participating it in it. especially when he has you. eren doesn’t make it past the first day of november without tearing your clothes off and finishing inside of you.

connie’s pretty into no not november- mainly because of destroy dick december. despite being a yearly player, he never makes it through the month successfully. what fails him this year is you in a pair of black leggings- he can’t help it. he begs you to let him fuck you and you give in, november claiming yet another loser.

when you brought the idea up to levi, he scoffed. he thinks it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world and he won’t be partaking. he’s going to fuck you whenever and wherever if you’ll let him. he cuts the conversation short by pulling you onto his lap, mumbling something like “i’d fail over and over when it comes to you” into your ear.

jean insists that no nut november is easy, that you just have to have control. and he claims he does. he does pretty good for the first week, you’ll give him that. determined to make him fail, you start sleeping in just a small shirt and underwear. jean cant stand your teasing anymore and decides to fuck you raw after a particularly tough day, november claiming another victim.

erwin takes it a little too seriously. he’s never heard of it until you brought it up to him the other day. interested, he decides to partake in it. and he fucking exceeds, much to your dismay. but as soon as december strikes, he doesn’t waste a minute more. he rams into you for hours with an ungodly amount of stamina for someone who was just practicing abstinence.

zeke thinks it’s a fun idea, as long as you join him in it. thinking it’ll be easy, you agree. turns out you both spend the entirety of november teasing the fuck out of each other, each being too stubborn to lose. zeke makes it a week before he’s quite literally on his knees begging you to get him off.

armin would like to try it. he doesn’t make you participate. he just does it to see how strong-willed he is. but that doesn’t stop him from getting you off. not being able to cum means not being able to fuck you, and he can’t stand it. so he eats you and fingers you daily, making sure you’re getting off. he can’t keep his hands to himself.

porco’s too confident in his ability to make it through the month. it’s all fun and games until he wakes up in the middle of the night with a throbbing boner. not thinking, he gently wakes you up and you two wind up having sex. it’s not until you’re cuddling after does he realize that he’s just lost.

reiner says fuck that. he won’t be participating. he hates the idea so much. you’re his girlfriend and if he wants to fuck you, he will. just for the hell of it, he pushes you up against a wall everyday, slamming you full of his cum. if this is no nut november, you’d hate to see destroy dick december. or love it.

bertholdt wants to partake in it for the ‘nostalgia’ of it all. but ultimately, he caves in because the desire for you is too great. you make him fail by wearing a low cut shirt and nonchalantly bending over to grab something, revealing too much cleavage. you wind up on your knees with his fingers in your hair.

please check out my jean fic 🤍

[marsbutterfly]

Too Sweet

Summary: For the past few weeks, Hanji has locked themselves away in their office, away from prying eyes, including your own. But your heart can clearly tell when something is wrong with your beloved.

a/n: hey everyone <3 this story is entirely based on the cover art by my amazing artist friend @kylekoraki ! please show them some love and everyone say "thank you" to kyle for drawing this! <3 here's their twitter as well <3

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: canon setting, fem!reader, non-binary!hanji zoe, no warnings really, just some heavy kissing. not really beta read, we die like men <3

 ao3 | wattpad | cover by: @kylekoraki | wc: 4.2k

You knock on the door. Once, twice, thrice. No answer. A grunt escapes your lips and you roll your eyes, repeating the action. Once, twice, thrice. Nothing again. Now a frown takes the place of the smile that used to rest on your face, you know they are in there, you can hear the papers being shuffled around, the tapping of their pen, the shadow of their body as they pass by the door, even faintly the sound of the ice that clinks around their whiskey glass.

You raise your hand to knock again, but before you even have the chance, the door opens. Barely enough for any light to make it through but you see the faint silhouette of Hanji's lips pouting. "You know that when someone doesn't answer, it means they want to be left alone, right?" Their voice is low, almost as if they are making sure to remain quiet to not attract any more unnecessary attention.

"But... it's me.." you respond just as softly, a pout of your own forming, "I'm not like other people."

“y/n…” They begin, moving their glasses from the spot on their face towards the top of their head, pushing their bangs backward in the meantime. Their brown eyes stare at you for what feels like forever, their mind hiding behind an ocean of thoughts and an expression you can’t quite decipher this time around.

They want you to stay, to hold you in their arms as they sit here in the comforting silence of your presence, but instead, they shake their head, trying their best to remove any thoughts of what your warmth would do to them. A heavy sigh makes its way past their lips, the eyebags under their eyes more present than ever as they begin to talk again.

“Please, I’m fine,” they respond. What Hanji fails to realize is that their voice did a slight tremble, not noticeable to anyone else but you know them better than the palm of your own hand. They are the pure representation of your heart beating outside of your chest, so seeing them in such distress is enough to make you act against direct orders, consequences be damned.

“You are not,” you respond. Their office is a mess, their research papers scattered around with drawings and models of flying boats, new weapons, and ways to improve the Survey Corps all around. A thousand and one ideas, some connecting and some just scattered around the wind. 

The whiskey bottle that until a few weeks ago rested full to the brim on their bookshelf now finds itself on its last few sips, the curtains are drawn so no amount of light other than the small candles at the edge of their table can exist in the room and you even notice a few shards of broken glass, probably meaning that they have dropped a cup or two, either from exhaustion or from not being able to see in the dark.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” You ask, gently taking the whiskey glass out of their hand. You notice a small blush creeping its way onto their cheeks as their eyes pointedly avoid yours and, by these simple reactions, you can tell it has been a while, “You’re losing weight.”

They try to reach for the glass once more but you shake your head, pulling it further away. Even though they are stronger than you and could easily take it back if they wanted to, they don't. Instead, Hanji leans against their desk, crossing their arms in front of their chest as they let out a heavy sigh. They want to lie, to tell you they are fine, and pretend like nothing is wrong, but before a single false promise about their well-being can make its way past their lips, you speak up again.

“I can tell you haven’t been sleeping,” your voice is soothing, not an ounce of frustration or anger behind it, just plain worry. You take a step closer, fully prepared for another rejection but it doesn’t come this time around, though you still don’t dare take a deep breath until the moment your fingertips brush against their left cheek, just slightly beneath their eyepatch, “you look exhausted.”

“Now that’s just rude!” An exhausted chuckle escapes their lips as they nuzzle their face into your hand, their expression contorting from anguish to a somewhat relaxed one and it causes your heart to nearly stop for a second before between at three times the usual speed, you are convinced they can hear it from where they stand. “I’ll have you know that I look awesome.”

It’s your turn to chuckle, your worries melting away for simply a second before coming back at full force, knowing way too well that redirecting attention and humor have always been Hanji’s favorite ways of avoiding a serious conversation.

“Hanji…” You start, your tone of voice sounding just as exhausted and defeated as theirs. It drags a loud sigh out of their chest, but as their mouth opens to complain, you continue, a begging tone in your voice as your eyes fill with unwashed tears, “Please, just talk to me.”

That look is enough to cause a painful bang to shoot throughout their body, their heart dropping to their stomach with the knowledge that it is their fault that you look this way. So, without even realizing it, they are already taking a couple of steps forward, hands tightly grasping at your hips as they lean their forehead against yours.

“I’ve just been so busy,” they whisper, the broken tone in their voice creates a tight knot in your throat and the sensation only grows stronger as they continue to speak, “Paperwork, meetings, and any free time I have I go to the lab, trying to complete some old experiments I’ve had from years ago. Even if I try to sleep, I just… Lay there, staring at the ceiling, maybe getting two or three hours here and there.”

You sigh, your arms immediately wrapping around their neck as you pull them close. Their eyelashes bat against the skin of your neck as they close their eyes, a shaky breath escaping them as they inhale your scent, focusing on the way your body feels and smells.

At that moment, an idea hits you. Without disturbing the hug, you look around the messy room, quickly taking in the setting before noticing that, for once, their couch rests next to the window, uncluttered and undisturbed. 

Reluctantly, you pull away from them and the first thing you can hear is a grunt of disapproval. Once your eyes meet again, their pupils are so big, they could only be compared to a puppy dog that has just discovered steak for the first time, pleading, begging even, “Why’d you do that?”

Without an answer, your hand slides with theirs, fingers lacing and fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Their palm is slightly wet, though you can’t quite place if it is from the condensation from the whiskey glass they held earlier or if it is from nervous sweats. Regardless, all you can focus on is how warm their presence feels close to you.

You don’t speak, instead, you just guide their body towards the couch, their feet dragging behind you, “what are we doing?” They ask, their eyes already fighting to remain open in a combination of the exhaustion and the fuzzy feeling from being drunk, the comfort you bring them doesn’t help either. They are clearly forcing themselves to stay awake, wanting to spend all of this time with you instead of stubbornly trying to push you away.

“We are not doing anything,” you respond, taking a seat on the couch. Your free hand brushes against the spot next to you and they quickly catch onto what you are hinting, your words finally clicking in their head as they flash you a confused look, “You, on the other hand, are going to sleep for a while.”

Their eyes widen for a second as your words take them by surprise, a small groan of protest making its way past their chapped lips, “mmmmm, noo, I can’t… I have so much work that I need to get done… I don’t... Have time to sleep.”

Carefully, you bring your hand towards the back of their head, pulling the ponytail holder out of their hair to make sure they are more comfortable for the next step, which includes guiding their head down towards your thighs. It doesn’t take much effort nor does Hanji put up much of a fight, their body is completely exhausted after all.

“Mmmm,” they whine, their voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and stubbornness, almost like a child who refuses to lay down for nap time, but once again, they don’t put up a fight, “damn it, how could I ever say no to you?”

“You can’t,” you chuckle, your fingers beginning to comb through the knots in their hair, detangling the strands, your nails gently scratching their scalp while you are at it, “I promise I will be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your words are soft, carrying so much love that it is almost impossible for Hanji not to melt on the spot. The warmth of your legs combined with the feeling of your fingers going through their hair is finally enough to relax their overly exhausted body, their eyes finally closing and you use your free hand to remove their glasses, hanging it up on the neckline of your shirt.

“Finnneeeee,” Hanji whines once more, turning their body over so their face is buried in your stomach, their slim body now curled into a small ball on the couch and you can’t help but smile at the sight, “but do not let me sleep for more than thirty minutes. An hour, tops.”

You lift your eyes slightly to take a look at the clock on the wall, a gift from Kiyomi to celebrate your relationship. Silently, you take note of the time and look back down at your beloved, a soft, whispered “okay” leaving your lips.

“I’m serious,” Their voice starts sounding more sluggish by the second, their mind already starting to drift off but they fight back sleep for a few extra minutes, just enough to finish the conversation between the two of you, their voice extremely drowsy, “I’ll be mad if you don’t wake me up.”

“I would not dream of doing such a thing,” you respond, unsure if they recognize the mischievous tone in your words or not, but truly hoping that, if they do, they are simply choosing to ignore it. Even so, the way you speak brings them so much comfort, a sense of peace they haven’t felt since becoming commander, “just sleep, my love. I’ll be here.”

The moment Hanji hears you whisper that promise, the certainty that you will be here when they wake up, it’s like a switch flips inside of their mind and they finally allow their body to relax against your touch. Much like a cat, they purr as you continue to run your fingers through their hair, unable to avoid the smile that is now stamped on their lips.

“Thank you, love you,” they whisper, their voice is barely audible and you almost miss it. You don’t even have time to respond before they are completely asleep, the weight of the countless sleepless days finally catching up with their body.

When the first hour passes, you look up from your book, your eyes landing on the clock before making their way down towards Hanji’s face. They look so peaceful, their breathing is so calm and even that it soothes your own worries away and it takes every ounce of your strength not to lay down and nap with them. 

The decision to let them continue their slumber is an easy one. Eventually, you notice a small smile that tugs the corner of their lips in their sleep and you can’t help but wonder and hope that they are dreaming of you. Nevertheless, your fingers continue to go through the strands of their hair, even if it makes flipping the pages of your book a bit difficult, you manage to find a solution by placing it down on the armrest of the couch before using your pinky and ring fingers to hold the object down while the remaining digits flip towards the next page.

Another hour goes by and you start to ponder if you should wake them up. Maybe letting them sleep for this long wasn’t such a good idea, especially since you know they have to return to their duties as commander of the Survey Corps, such as continuing their research and sketching plans for the flying boat. But you can see it in their expression, the small specs of the bubbly person they used to be finally showing back up on their features as they sleep, small reminders of the bright light that has saved you from darkness more times than you can count.

You gasp softly when Hanji stirs slightly in your lap, your heart clenching in your chest as you continue to look down at them, scared that you moved too much and it caused them to wake up. Their expression is still undisturbed, almost like a cat that has just found the warmest spot on the window sill and you catch yourself smiling at them. A silly, love-sick smile that only they can bring out of you.

As the third-hour rolls by and you are trying to convince yourself that it is time to wake them up, you hear a knock on the door and your entire body freezes. You find yourself torn by the two options:

1) Do you say something loudly enough for the person on the other side to hear and risk waking Hanji up in a stressful way before throwing them directly into a situation in which they need to be the Commander, and not the bubbly Hanji Zoe you once loved so dearly.

2) You silently hope that the soldier on the other side will either go away soon or open the door quietly. The couch, though it is by the window, still has a perfect view of the front door to their office, so the person would quickly notice the situation and you would be able to calmly wake Hanji at your own pace, without any negative or stressful interactions.

A second, more forceful knock comes and you notice Hanji slowly starting to shift on your lap. The annoyed expression on your face morphs into one of anger and, as the shadow on the door side moves to knock for a third time, you decide to throw a pillow at the surface.

The person stops midway with their movements before their hand slowly comes to rest on the knob, twisting it slightly as the door quietly swings open. In front of you stands a very nervous scout, one of the new recruits, who hasn’t even been able to choose a specialty yet. His hands are trembling and he nearly drops the stack of papers he holds in his grasp, eyes bugging out of his skull as he looks at you and the sleeping figure on your legs.

“P-paperwork… F-for the C-Commander…” His voice is quiet and trembling, almost as if he is stepping directly into a monster’s lair. You realize in this moment just how intimidating Hanji is in everyone else’s perspective but your own and you can’t help but smile. You nod and gesture your head towards their desk, placing your index finger in front of your lips.

“I-it’s from… Instructor S-Shadis,” he says in the quietest of whispers, but you could already tell. Keith Shadis’ ugly handwriting was something you could identify from a mile away if you had to, “r-reports about… T-the ranking c-ceremony.”

“Thank you,” you mouth the words softly, your fingers moving on Hanji’s hair. They look so small and calm, almost like a harmless kitten, a direct contrast to the authoritative figure that can command an entire room with just a single look in their eye.

The boy nods, his trembling legs making their way towards the wooden table and carefully placing the new stack of paper next to the old ones, trying his best to make sure it is neatly organized while desperately avoiding eye contact with you. He does a quick salute towards you before eagerly exiting the room and you can nearly hear his breath of relief once he is out of sight, outside the closed doors.

You shake your head before looking down at Hanji once more to see a smile on their face. You roll your eyes, “how long have you been awake for?”

The smile on their face grows bigger, their eyes opening slowly to look at you, still a blurry image from the lack of their glasses but still enough for their heart to beat slightly faster, “since the first knock.” Of course, you think to yourself, “How long was I asleep for?”

You look at the clock, and a part of you wants to lie, say it’s only been thirty minutes or so but when you look out the window, you realize the sun has already started to set, making it impossible for such a thing to be even remotely believable. You sigh again.

“Around three hours…” You respond in a sheepish voice, avoiding their gaze. Immediately, Hanji sits up, placing their glasses above the bridge of their nose and looking at the clock on the wall. Once they look back at you, you can see the slightly irritated expression on their face and you feel like you could just shrink and disappear under such a harsh gaze.

“y/n, you promised!” They blur out and you can tell it isn’t anger or irritation… It’s an intense pile of anxiety, hidden behind the harsh facade they attempt to put up. They’re scared that something went wrong in the period they have been sleeping, like the Survey Corps might have fallen apart and they were doing something so useless such as taking a nap. A single thought is going through their mind, those words they have been chanting like a mantra since the fateful day in Shiganshina.

Erwin Would Never.

You stand up a mere second after them, watching closely as their hands grip the edges of the desk and their head hangs low, hips tilted forward in a desperate attempt to hold themselves upright. It breaks your heart to see them like this and, no matter how much you agree with Erwin that Hanji should be the next Commander, you can’t forgive him for leaving such a massive responsibility on their shoulders.

So your arms wrap around their waist, your cheek finding a perfect spot in the area between their shoulder blades. You nuzzle your face against their vest, nearly purring as you do. The smell of Hanji’s skin, mixed with a little bit of sweat as a result of their nap awakens the butterflies in your stomach and the only thing able to bring you out of your thoughts is the broken sound of their voice.

“How long were you going to let me sleep for?” They whisper, a hint of desperation behind their tone and you notice they are shaking. You tighten your grip around them.

“For as long as you needed,” you respond and, at the sound of their quiet sob, your heart shatters. “You haven’t been eating or sleeping, you are drinking in the middle of the day and, well, you are pulling away from me.”

With a long sigh, they turn around, a defeated expression on their face, “Y/n, I’m a mess. I’ve always been a mess. I’m always overthinking things, I’m mean, I’m stubborn, please. I need to catch up on my work, it’s so much paperwork and it just keeps piling up…”

“Hanji, you’re spiraling,” you whisper, fingertips almost featherlike as they brush against their arm. You hope and pray and nearly fall to your knees begging that they will listen to your voice, that they will give you time to make your case and prove that they are so much more than anything they are thinking, but they continue.

“Erwin’s one mistake was making someone like me the commander,” they whisper in the most defeated tone you have ever heard. It’s like something in your mind snaps and you immediately grab a hold of their wrist, flipping them around before pressing your body against theirs on the table.

“Now you listen to me and you listen good,” your voice is stern in a way Hanji had never heard before, it’s filled with pain, heartache, and still so much love, “Erwin wouldn’t have made you Commander if he didn’t think you would be a perfect choice. And I agree.”

Hanji wants to protest, they want to contradict you but the desperate look in your eyes convinces them to remain silent. Instead, they focus all of their attention on your words, into the amount of effort it takes you not to break into tears as you listen to their self-deprecating words, the doubt in their mind. They focus on the way your lips move and how desperately they want to kiss you.

“You are the reason why we were able to eradicate titans outside the wall, you created the thunder spears that were enough to scare off the armored titan,” you continue, the trembling in your hands is so intense you can barely contain your grip on them but you don’t let go nevertheless, “Moblit sacrificed himself for you because he believed you could guide us towards the world outside the walls. Erwin entrusted the Survey Corps to you because you are the most brilliant person any of us has ever seen. Please, just… Tell me you at least believe me.”

They don’t respond, not because they don’t want to, but because their voice won’t come out. It’s as if their brain has lost connection with their vocal chords and all they can focus on is the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. 

So in one swift move, Hanji grabs a hold of your wrist and immediately switches places with you. You can’t help but yelp quietly, especially when you feel their hands grasping at the back of your thighs as they lift you. Your hands reach behind you, carefully assessing the area while trying not to mix any of their paperwork, but Hanji doesn’t have a single care in the world that isn’t you at this moment.

Their eyes hungrily stare at your lips and, with a silent nod of their head, you push away all the papers that were once so neatly organized on their desk. Once you are sitting down and your legs wrap around their waist, Hanji wastes no time in sealing their lips with yours, a delighted hum escaping your body once they do.

You wrap your arms around their neck, allowing your fingers to venture through the messy strands of their hair. Their fingers dig into your hips, strong enough to nearly leave a few bruises but neither of you care, the need you have for each other overwhelms any and every other one of your senses.

Their tongue slowly glides on your lower lip before they gently take it in between their teeth, pulling the skin towards them. After a few seconds, they let go and immediately begin to silently beg for entrance, using the tip of their tongue to nudge your lips apart and it doesn’t take you long to indulge.

They pull you closer to themselves, your bodies pressed together without a single inch of free space as they hold you, nearly afraid that you might disappear the second they loosen their grip. It’s the first time you have kissed in what feels like forever, even if it has been just a few weeks.

You can’t help but focus on the taste of whiskey in their mouth, it’s completely different from anything ever made inside the Walls. It nearly tastes “expensive”, for the lack of a better word. It’s been hours since they have last taken a sip and the flavor is still so vivid on their tongue. So much so that it nearly burns once your saliva begins mixing.

It’s only when the need for air becomes unbearable that the two of you pull away, a small string of saliva connecting your bodies. You run your tongue over your lip, breaking that connection and still getting one last taste of them. The sight causes a shiver to run down Hanji’s spine and they smile, gently placing their forehead against yours.

“I needed that,” they whisper, a smile stamped across their face and you nod, “I’m sorry for pushing you away, I’m just… Having a lot of big feelings that I couldn’t express but I have you now.”

“It’s okay, just don’t forget that I am here for and with you, okay?” You whisper back in a love-filled voice and they smile once more, nodding their head as their grip around you tightens ever so slightly, “You still taste like home.”

“Yeah? And what does that taste like?” They chuckle, nuzzling their nose against yours, enough that you can feel their glasses against your face.

“Like expensive whiskey,” you respond and Hanji laughs, the sound you’ve missed most these past few weeks and you are reminded yet again that home is whatever, wherever and whenever you are with them. No matter what.

[erens-heart]

levi ackerman 𑄽ᧉྀི

summary: you share your first kiss with the captain.

cw: canon universe, fem!bodied reader, sad reader comforting a sad levi, mentions of war and death, sloppy kissing turns into an angry makeout session, hair pulling, etc, mdni <3

levi ackerman had an apparent disregard for what everybody thought of him; he broke the rules. he had the mettle to make decisions others couldn’t - wouldn’t dare - that’s what made him the perfect captain. he was distant, some would say harsh, and didn’t care to waste his breath spouting nosense about hope.

it wasn’t necessary, he thought, you would all end up dying on him anyway.

despite this, during the little time levi had to himself, he would devise strategies to ensure that you came back alive from each reconnaissance. he would beg erwin to reconsider the formation, so that you could ride next to him on the next mission, where he could keep you safe, although your chances of making it back unscathed were not minimal.

“i don’t give a shit, just make sure she’s next to me. she isn’t as strong as the others.”

he’d bluffed, knowing that you were next in line for his throne, you were nearly as strong as him. to no avail, levi tried to convince himself that was your only value to the survey corps.

you had taught levi more than a few things about softness, and of how to be patient. in the strictest of confidence, he swore an oath to protect you, and would conquer however many titans necessary to fulfil it.

“captain?” you knocked on his door, politely interrupting his concentration.

“what?” he answered curtly, the weight of yesterday’s failed expedition still resting on his shoulders. he glanced up from an empty tea cup, blinking away his exhaustion, “it’s you. i see. what do you need?”

your intentions weren’t obvious, you were off-duty and had no official business in levi’s quarters. he guessed that you needed him for something else. you hesitated, realising that you hadn’t rehearsed any of this before knocking on levi’s door. he frowned at you in exchange.

“i came to see if you were okay?” you said shyly.

“what?” he practically snorted and got up, turning his body away from you so that you wouldn’t see the surprise on his face.

you’d learned to pity your captain. his short body always looked so sore, new scars would appear on his hands, and go unnoticed. you’d once offered to attend to a cut on his knuckles but he’d told you to, quote, “fuck off and mind your own business.”

however, this wasn’t pity that you felt, this was unchartered territory. you were visiting him out of hours, you were worried. you’d been outside the walls, fought titans, and made it back alive, but insinuating that you cared about levi felt, somewhat, scarier.

levi, your captain, of all people.

you took a step deeper into his room, swallowing thickly. you’d always guessed it would be peaceful in his quarters; his room was clean and organised, and he had a candle burning at his bed side. it’s soft light flickered across your face.

“captain. i think you should take a break-“ you paused, treading carefully around the subject of work, “come for a walk with me?”

“what?” he deadpanned, looking up at you in a vain attempt to read you.

you were smiling, but you smiled at everyone, he certainly wasn’t an exception. you were being kind to him but, again, you were kind to everyone, even the assholes.

secondly, he couldn’t deduce what gave you the sudden courage to knock on his door and invite him on a walk - in the middle of the night.

“captain?” you prompted with a keen sparkle in your eyes, unsure what to make of his response, or lack thereof.

“did you have somewhere in mind?” he sighed, finally giving in and putting his cup down.

“somewhere hidden. can be our secret.” you joked, catching him off-guard again.

levi clenched his jaw, painfully aware of the implications should he get caught alone with you. he wouldn’t lose his job, no, it’d be worse than that - he would be teased for the rest of his life!

“sure.” he eventually agreed after pretending to think about it. he took a cloak from his hanger for warmth and, beneath that, he wore a shirt and tight slacks to hide the bruises he’d earned in battle.

he brushed past you, leading the way out, his small shadow dancing on the walls. you could tell that he wasn’t relaxed, he couldn’t relax, and held a permanently stiff posture. could you blame him? all that death on his shoulders, all those lives on the line.

having pulled your hood up to stay hidden, your smile drooped and you looked down at your feet as you followed behind him, wondering what you could possibly say. what could possibly make things better? or change the fate of humanity?

“so. you invited me out for a walk, and now the cat’s got your tongue?” levi asked, breaking the heavy silence.

you dragged your hand mindlessly along the cobblestone walls, and hummed. “there’s isn’t much to say, honestly. just thought it’d do you some good to get out.”

levi chuckled ungenuinely - it was honestly ironic.

“i go outside all the time.” he spoke as he glared at the tunnel ahead. “it’s just unfortunate i have to spend all of that time butchering titans.”

you frowned with him, hugging your cloak to your body you as you emerged from the tunnel onto the training grounds.

it was completely dark outside, save for the two sconces either side of the doorway you were stood in, and the stars twinkling down at you from the heavens. you watched levi’s cold breath make clouds as he exhaled, scanning the field.

“you can relax.” you mumbled, watching him scour the trees for signs of life. it was like he’d developed a reflex for hunting titans, it was instinctual now. he felt the constant prickle of anxiety, you felt it too.

you were so transfixed on levi’s scowl and the determination in his expression, that you had little time to appreciate what beauty was left in your world: the frost, the birds, the wind.

you tugged on levi’s cape, stealing his attention. his hard expression softened.

“sorry. been hard to relax lately.” he admitted, kicking the gravel with his boot.

“you’re the strongest man i know, levi.” your voice cracked,

“i don’t mean physically. i don’t understand how you get up every morning and face the world, and those titans. if- if i were you- i would have given up years ago.” you began messily, clutching your fist against your racing heart.

levi sighed, and cradled your face with his strong hands, furrowing his eyebrows as he peered into you. his hands were freezing, it was a surprise to you that they weren’t numb.

“shut up.” he scolded gently, and looked down at your glistening lips. “i would have given up too, if not for you.”

he brought you closer, snaking one of his thick arms around your waist. levi didn’t care anymore. without a second thought, he surrendered, he couldn’t bear not having you for a second longer, he was but sand in the hourglass of time.

he used his other hand to guide your chin forwards. he pressed his lips softly to yours and your heart stopped, but you pecked him back.

he kissed you so gently, carefully cherishing the taste of you, as if it were his last night on earth.

you kissed him back, holding onto his collar, whilst he made guttural sounds that lit a fire within you. you could feel all of his rough scars tickling your skin as you moaned weakly into his mouth.

crazed, he grabbed your hair from underneath your hood, pulling you into his taut body, so hard that you crashed into him. your hood fell down, revealling tears that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. he wouldn’t dare, but levi felt like crying too.

you kissed his open mouth, licking his tongue sloppily, letting him lick yours too. the way he kissed you gave you butterflies, it was more than what you’d ever imagined. your heart ached, your body tingled, your feelings felt uncontainable.

you smiled at him, sticking your tongue out for him to taste. levi groaned darkly and licked it, again and again, before grabbing a fistful of the hair on the back of your head. he tied his fingers into your hair and gripped it hard before smashing his mouth back into yours again.

you felt so alive you were sure you were going to die.

you pulled back for air after a while. levi looked at you with starving eyes, and followed you backwards into the wall. you parted your legs to make room for his knee, which he pushed up into the space between your legs. he caged your head between his two hands on the wall, gritting his teeth against your ear,

“captain…” you croaked.

“don’t you die on me. ever.” he grunted, pressing his forehead tiredly to the side of your head, breathing raggedly.

“i won’t.”

[arabella0001]

SMAU LIST HERE + fluff

Masterlist (smut/fluff etc 👻)

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ - my favs

Jujustu Kaisen

i said i'd catch you if you fall (gojo x reader) ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

the strongest tease (gojo x reader) ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

yours to break (choso x reader) ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

conffesion ( megumi x reader ) fluff

forbidden from the start (toji x reader)

missing you (getou x reader)

Naruto

marked by fate (kakashi x reader) ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

unmasking desire (kakashi x reader)

between two mask, beneath your skin (kakashi x reader x obito) ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

passion behing his mask (kakashi x reader)

pushing his buttons (sasuke x reader) - part 1, 2, 3 ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

more than just a genius (shikamaru x reader)

one bed situation (sasuke x reader) - part 1, 2, 3

sasuke's roomate (sasuke x reader)

who s a good girl? (kiba x reader)

dark bonds (itachi x reader) ao3 wattpad (fanfic)

the one beyond his revenge (sasuke x reader)- wattpad ao3 (fanfic)

chakra therapy (naruto uzumaki x reader) NEW

say it when you're sober (sasuke x reader)

Attack on titan

nowhere to hide (eren x reader) ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

beneath the uniform (levi x reader) ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

comfort (eren x reader)

criminal lovers (levi x reader) NEW

others?

Bleach

curiosity killed the cat (kisuke urahara x reader)

under their spell / mastered by deception ( kisuke x reader x aizen) ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

unspoken chains (aizen x reader)

bykauya x reader - soon

extra - bleach men eating you out

Hunter x Hunter

unspoken tension / quiet obssesion (illumi x reader) ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

extra - hunter x hunter men eating you out

[girlyteengirlcore]

cw: painful edging, orgasm denial, hange is very a little bit mean, pussy slaps🥰

wc: 555

You had been reduced to nothing short of a weeping mess. Being forced to bring this torture upon yourself, while they sit there and watch. You wish you could jump up and punch that smile right off their face, but you know better and Hange expected perfection from you.

The feeling of your orgasm about to peak once again should be a good thing. In this case, it was not because you knew it would be taken away from you. Maybe if you were just quiet, maybe they wouldn’t kn-

“Careful,” a warning. She definitely noticed what you were trying to do but honestly, you couldn’t care less. You’ve been here for hours and it seems like nothing is coming from this, literally. It’s painful, not to mention aggravating.

Suddenly, you feel the toy being ripped away from your drooling core. A groan of frustration leaves your mouth, you were so close.

“What did I just say?”

Hange glares down at you, looking almost revolted at your audacity. The agreement was that you weren’t cumming tonight, well.. “agreement” was not the right word. You sat there and listened, begrudgingly, as Hange went on and on about how holding off your orgasm for a couple of days is supposed to make it feel soooo much better. You thought it was an awful idea and you weee right, this feels awful.

“Hange, please? I don’t like it, I jus’ wanna cum,” the words sounded pathetic on your tongue but there wasn’t really any other option.

“You’re not supposed to like it yet, silly. That’s the point,” they sounded so cheerful? How could they be so happy when you were here, sobbing, begging her to let you cum?

“I ca- can’t do this, baby. Please, let me cum? I’m begging you Hange, please.”

A hard slap landed right on your sensitive pussy, the impact made you wince and pull your legs up to your chest. Hange wasn’t having that, though.

She sits in front of you, pulls your legs apart, instructs you to hold your legs back; sick of your shit.

“Don’t move, I’ll do it myself. Since you’re too much of a whore to do it yourself,” another slap landed right on your clit, emphasising their statement.

“Plea-“

“Shut. It.”

She uses her left hand to pull back the hood of your clit and presses the vibrator on your sore nub. The stimulation makes your back arch and a whine push itself out of your mouth, music to her ears.

Not even a minutes goes by before they can tell you’re about to cum again. She waits until it’s right there, within your arms reach and then, she pulls away the vibe. You slam your fists down onto the bed in response. Tears streaming down your cheeks, your head throbbing from the crying, you were absolutely wrecked.

“Are you done throwing a tantrum?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue back, so instead you just nod.

“Great,” with that condescending tone once again. She grabs your discarded underwear, bringing it to her nose.

“Stand up, f’me babe.”

You stand up, a defeated look taking over your face.

“Please, Hange. Please?” Looking up at your partner, searching for some sympathy. The smile doesn’t once leave her face as she brings herself down to your eye level.

“No.”

[pixelscutz]

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 ( 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ) ⟡

the dim candlelight flickered against the cold walls of levi’s quarters, casting long shadows over the room. the scent of tea lingered in the air, but it was long forgotten—overshadowed by the thick tension crackling between you and the Ccaptain himself.

you had pushed him too far tonight, tested him just enough to make his patience snap. and now, you were paying for it.

levi stood in front of you, arms crossed, steel-gray eyes locked onto yours with an unreadable intensity. his expression was calm—too calm—but the way his fingers flexed at his sides told you everything.

"tch. you just don’t know when to stop, do you?" his voice was low, almost a whisper, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

you swallowed, breath hitching as he took a slow step forward, then another, closing the space between you in an instant. his gloved fingers ghosted along your jaw, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"what am I going to do with you?" he murmured, eyes dark with something dangerous.

you barely had time to answer before he spun you around, your back hitting the wooden desk behind you. the sound of papers scattering to the floor barely registered in your mind as levi pressed his body against yours, his breath hot against your ear.

"you act like you want control. But we both know that’s not what you really want, don’t we?"

his voice was like gravel—smooth, deep, commanding.

you gasped as he grabbed your wrists, pinning them against the desk, his grip firm but not cruel. His lips barely brushed against your neck, a ghost of a touch, before he exhaled a quiet chuckle.

"go on. challenge me again." his tone was mocking, teasing, but you could hear the warning laced between the words.

your heart pounded. you should’ve been scared. maybe you were. but more than that—you wanted to see what would happen if you did.

so you smirked, tilting your head ever so slightly, and whispered:

"make me."

levi inhaled sharply through his nose. and then—

the last thing you heard before the world blurred was the sound of him clicking his tongue, and the deep, low growl of his next words—

"tch. you asked for it."

[amywritesthings]

care. / a levi period comfort fic

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader word count: 1.4k summary: You have to skip your gym date with Levi due to bad period cramps. Levi, however, isn't going to let you suffer alone.

note: set in the press four for more options / dating on airplane mode universe tags: modern au, neighbors au, menstruation, cramp pain, period talk, doting new boyfriend levi, fluff, adult language, reader has a chronic pms pain

author note: today is my birthday!! my gift to you is this little P4/DOAP one shot. this is a little self indulgent, so i hope this helps anyone else that experiences bad pains like me! i will be writing one shots all month for my endo awareness event, so feel free to send requests if you would like to see more! credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

( Read on AO3. )

You know as soon as you wake up what kind of day it’s going to be.

As you stir from slumber, you’re met with the familiar, unforgiving punch to the gut before you take your first deep inhale. The sharp jab is a tell-tale sign that you should have probably hit the pharmacy when you had the time during your lunch break — yesterday.

You know, before things got awful.

“God damn it.”

Periods have always been a sore spot to discuss in your life. The immense pain that follows the next agonizing few days is not a new occurrence, but knowing them intimately never makes them any better. No matter how many times you’ve prepared, weathered, endured — it’s a gamble whether or not you have the energy to eat today, much less do anything productive.

Dragging your phone off of the adjacent nightstand, your heart sinks when you see your most recent notifications:

Alarm set for 7:30 a.m. (Dismiss?)

Remember to pay credit card bill. (Eventually.)

New text from Levi Ackerman.

Shit.

Opening the third notification first, you read his text from five minutes ago.

[LEVI:] Hey. Still going to the gym this morning?

Self hatred floods your system when you realize there’s no way in hell you’re going to be going to the gym today, much less leaving this apartment. It’ll be a miracle if you can drag yourself to the bathroom.

Missing out on seeing Levi today hurts more than you’re willing to admit.

Tapping the reply bubble, you type in response:

[ME:] Sorry, not feeling well. :( Rain check?

It’s weird to confess why, right?

Everything is way too fresh, much too new, between the two of you.

You can’t burden your newest partner with the—

Another notification pops up immediately.

[LEVI:] What’s wrong?

Double shit.

Sighing to yourself, you type back, hesitate, then send.

[ME:] Don’t worry about it, it’s pretty embarrassing. I probably won’t be able to leave the apartment today. I’m rooting you on from down here!

Or up here, technically, if he’s going to be at the gym.

(Dumbass.)

You drop your phone to your mattress, slowly easing yourself out of bed. You check the sheets behind you to make sure you didn’t ruin them — thank god, there’s a singular win for this morning — before waddling to the bathroom.

Grabbing a new pair of underwear and a pad, you sit on the toilet with your head in your hands, taking some time to breathe through the initial cramps.

A few days.

Just a few days and you can—

It’s faint, but you hear it.

Three raps at your front door.

Knock, knock, knock.

Perking your head up, your brows furrow as you finish up, tug your pajama bottoms back on, and wash your hands. Crossing the living room to the front door, you use the peephole to see who’s waiting outside.

For the briefest moment, you forget your cramps altogether.

“Levi?!” you yelp, shocked by his presence.

“Hey,” he states, arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing his typical white workout tank, displaying his lean arms in the fisheye lens of your doorframe. “You okay in there?”

“I— yeah, I’m okay!” you lie, higher pitched than usual. “Sorry, I can’t let you in.”

You note how his chin tilts, contemplating your brevity. 

“You come down with some shitty cold or whatever?”

“No, it’s—”

“Stomach bug?”

“No, not at all, it’s just—”

“I can wear a mask if you got something catchable.” He shifts, thumbing back to the hallway behind him like he knows you’re watching. “I have a bunch at my place.”

“Levi, no,” you blurt, getting frustrated. “I have my period!”

The dark-haired man stops.

His brows furrow, contemplating with evident confusion on his face.

“...I’m confused, a period of what? Fucking dysentary or something?” When you’re about to argue, he pointedly glances at the peephole. “Can you at least open the door for a sec?”

Reluctantly you agree to his request, unlocking the door and swinging it open. You feel immense shame standing in front of your new boyfriend looking messy and make-up free.

There hasn’t even been time to at least put on some moisturizer, damn it.

When he finally sees you at your worst (or so you perceive to be your worst) he doesn’t even bat an eye.

The stormy grays just stare into your own, brows rising expectantly.

“What do you need?”

You lean against your doorframe, trying to breathe through another wave of cramps. “What?”

With a tsk, he steps a baited sneaker into the threshold of your apartment. When you don’t push him out, he fully enters your apartment and beelines to your kitchen.

(Right. Same layout, just a couple of floors higher.)

“Get comfy on the couch,” he states like he’s a coach again, devoid of nonsense. “You have any tea lying around?”

“I don’t understand,” you state, only then closing the door to your apartment. “You were about to go to the gym—”

“Yeah, and now I’m not.”

“Levi.”

“Couch,” he counters, plucking the kettle you had sitting dormant on your stovetop to fill it with water. “Or your bed, if that makes you more comfortable.”

You can’t really argue with that, not when your cramps are making you dizzy.

Hell, his insistence on helping is making you even dizzier but in an entirely different way.

When you dated Porco, he never extended help beyond some comforting words and a stray pint of ice cream. Levi looks natural rummaging around your kitchen as if he’s been spending time here for months.

“You really don’t have to babysit me,” you try to reason, though you find yourself slowly shambling towards your couch anyway. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, well, my mother used to have a lot of really bad months when I was growing up.” Levi starts the stove, heating up the water. His eyes briefly flicker to you. “My friend, Hange, doesn’t exactly have a walk in the park with this shit, either. They left an arsenal of supplies at my place whenever they come around. Can’t imagine they’ll care if I borrow some of it.”

So Levi has period supplies at his apartment for friends and family?

That…

You’ve never heard of any man who has something like that.

“Supplies like what?”

“Admittedly it’s a bunch of stuff we used to offer people at our gym in case they were having a rough week,” he explains as if this is nothing while he watches the kettle grow hot. 

Then again, periods are supposed to be nothing.

They’re natural and half of the planet go through them monthly, and yet —

“Heating pads, two different sizes. Mint and ginger tea are soothing for cramping. I’ve got a decently fresh stock of those leaves. Not sure if you’re out of sanitary products, but I got some of those in a cabinet, too.”

You stare dumbfounded, your heart skipping a beat.

(As if this man couldn’t be any more attractive.)

When you don’t respond, he turns around to look at you. His eyes soften as they search your face.

“I’d ask how your pain is right now, but I take it it’s high?” You nod. “Alright. Mind if I keep the door unlocked? I’ll run upstairs and grab everything.”

“You don’t have—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, but it isn’t firm like before.

Levi walks across the room towards you. As he bends at the hip, his dog tags slip out of his tank top.

Gentle lips press to the crown of your head.

“Let me take care of you, alright? You’re my girl. That’s my responsibility, especially when you’re feeling like shit. I can do push-ups anywhere. Gym’s not a necessity.”

Melting at his reassurance, you can’t help but tease. 

“So I get pampering and a show? Talk about high-class service.”

The lips on your head curve to a smirk before pulling away, his eyes meeting yours. His hand raises to cup the side of your face adoringly. An absentminded thumb strokes your cheek.

“Yeah, well, you know me. High fucking class or whatever.”

When you laugh, the corner of his mouth twitches again. He lifts your chin and leans forward, kissing your lips. You return the gesture, warmth spreading throughout your body.

“I’ll be five minutes,” he whispers against your lips.

“It only takes you five minutes to run up six flights of stairs and back?”

“You can time me if you think I’m lying.”

“Deal.”

[reive-1]

You convince Levi to grow his hair long after the war <3 and even as he’s getting older he somehow looks younger. Maybe it’s the rest and good food that softens his hard edges, physical and otherwise. Kisses speckling his cheeks instead of blood. Discovering the luxury of an afternoon nap.

The weight of what happened still bears down on his shoulders; it will never leave him, but a steady accumulation of life’s little joys form a raft that keeps him well afloat. And you are the lashings holding it all together, like how you hold all of him so easily in your arms.

How wonderful it is to be able to do nothing. No blades to hone or formations to practice. No battles to fight or bodies to bury. Just sitting on the cottage porch with the sun warming your skin, your hand in Levi’s. He doesn’t seem to mind the faint layer of sweat intermingling between your palms. It’s the first day of summer, and it feels good to be alive.

[beautiful-is-boring]

excuse me but i cannot be the only one thinking about the fact that when postwar!levi would eat you out, you would be able to feel the slightly rough sensations of his stitched and perfectly healed scar on his bottom lip against your wet cunt? And once Levi finds out you're enjoying it, he would feel a surge of confidence and would totally use that to his advantage uhdugirgihfrirgficbrswhsswhhsss

[woodle-isbae]

Could you maybe write something for Eren and a black chubby reader? You can go wild with it tbh but I would love a little smut:)

Pillow baby

Eren x black!chubby!reader

Warnings : smut with little to no plot , onshot , eren is kind of demeaning, orgasm denial? , breeding kink? , PiV( wrap it b4 u tap it)

"Y'know...you look so good in that dress."

"Thank you baby"

"I might need a closer inspection"

~ ♡ ~

"E-renn , wait please , I cant-"

"Shh mama , you can"

Eren currently had you face down ass up , gripping at your dress and hips , abusing his dick into your pussy.

He had you absolutely fucked up , your hair a mess and a tit popping out, screaming into the pillow as he continued his assault into your cunt

"This fat pussy taking me so well"

His words degrading yet full of praise, enchanted with how you sucked him in at every thrust, eyes focused on the thick white ring around his cock as it disappeared in your folds

"Rennn , I'm gonna cum!"

"Hold it for me , you can do that for me huh?"

You didn't need to see his face to know he had the cockiest smirk ever , his hair clung to his forehead

"Ooo , this pussy is just so pretty , don't you think so? The way you jus' suck me in is deadly."

His tone teasing and demeaning, grunting at each thrust that became sloppy , indicating he was close

"Eren please , I cant hold it!"

"Unt unt. Your gonna cum with me , yeah? You can do it , just a little- fuck -more"

You were practically shaking , tears streaming down your face from the denial , you can't bear it any longer.

"Shit-you can cum , let it all out."

A loud moan leaving your lips as you spasmed against him , juices leaking all over his torso and your thighs.

Before you could even process it , you felt him cumming in you , filling you up nicely , halting his hips against yours as he caught his breath , ringed fingers drawing soft shapes on your hip

"That was fun , right?"

"Eren...you ruined my dress!"

[marsbutterfly]

hange clingy headcannons maybe Y/N is equally clingy? Idk i just need that fluffy shit

Headcanons: Clingy! Hanji Zoe

a/n: thank you for your request, anon ♡ i hope i did it justice. i wanna thank eden for choosing this as the next request i was gonna work on ♡

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of nudity but no smut, not beta read (we die like men ♡)

/ before the two of you started dating, hanji was scared to show you just how clingy they actually were, but that didn't stop them from being affectionate in "small and subtle ways". well, small and subtle when it came to them, at least.

/ they would always wrap their arm around your waist while the two of you were standing next to each other and talking to other people. or they would wrap their pinky finger with yours as you walked side by side. they would also steal sips of your drinks all the time or take licks out of your lollipop.

/ during one of your friend's house party, they stayed by your side the whole night, protecting your drink, making sure you were having a good time and introducing you to the rest of their friends.

/ they whined for a few minutes, asking you to go with them to get something new to drink but you were in the middle of a conversation, so you simply kissed one of their cheeks and told them "if you go by yourself, I'll kiss the other cheek when you come back." needless to say, they ran.

/ by the time they came back, they could see a random man walking up to you, his lips too close to yours for their comfort and they nearly panicked. they wanted to rush over there, push the man and protect you but they had never confessed their very obvious feelings before.

/ but as they are about to turn away, they notice that you are making your way towards them with a bright smile on your face. "Hey! I missed you!" you say close to their ear, loudly enough so they will be able to hear you through the loud music.

/ hanji doesn't waste any time. they place the drinks down on a nearby table and wrap an arm around your waist and pulling you closer, your lips colliding together in a desperate kiss the two had been longing for for years. the two of you became official after that.

/ it comes to no surprise that hanji gives the best hugs. their long arms can completely wrap around you as they hug you from behind. you'll usually be cooking or doing laundry and you'll feel their body press against your back and you'll laugh softly, nuzzling your head against them.

/ in public, they refuse to let go of your hand. they want to keep you close, always making sure you are safe and within their line of sight while still making sure everyone around the two of you knows that you are their girlfriend.

/ they get so overwhelmingly hot at night that they wake up sweaty every single morning and they feel absolutely awful when you are drenched as well. though, it is quickly fixed by a shower together and it's right back to more cuddles under the cold ac.

/ even when the two of you getting into a fight, hanji still wants to stay as close to you as they can. even if the two of you are mad at each other, not on speaking terms, you will seat on the couch and watch tv and they will sit next to you, scooting closer every few minutes until your legs are touching.

/ hanji absolutely adores when you pepper their face with kisses. they smile every time and they are always saying how much it reminds them of the flapping wings of a gentle butterfly.

/ when they are sleepy? oof, they become more like a koala than a person. they will cling to your arm and whine over and over, their eyes barely remaining open as they force themselves to speak, asking you to come to bed while they rub their face on your shoulder.

/ you are their favorite pillow. they love sleeping on your thighs while the two of you are watching tv together, they love sleeping on your stomach while the two of you lay in the hammock and they absolutely love to sleep on your boobs every night, the sound of your heartbeat lulling them to sleep.

/ sometimes, when you don't feel like walking from the couch to the bedroom, you'll simply lift your arms and make the sleepiest face you can, even if you aren't that tired. hanji will always let out a small chuckle and pick you up in their arms, no matter how much you weight. they are strong, the can carry you like you are a feather.

/ when you first got together, hanji would always pout and tell you, "i'm not a cutie. i'm strong, powerful and confident!" and you would smile and tease them, "and a cuuuuuutiiiieeeeee." it used to make them so embarrassed but, as time went on, hanji started to get more and more open to it, even responding when you would yell a cute nickname to get their attention.

/ you are the moon to their stars. there is absolutely nothing hanji wouldn't do for you. they are constantly checking in on you, texting you multiple times while you are at work. they will send funny memes, cute selfies, spicy pictures but mostly romantic pictures of plans they have for the two of you, even if it's usually just popcorn and wine at home.

/ hanji will kiss you at every single chance they get. though they prefer the deep kisses, the ones filled with passion and tongues twirling around each other during your steamy make out sessions, they can't deny that those little pecks the two of you share so often make their heart light up with joy.

/ when the two of you go out grocery shopping, hanji will cautiously smack your butt as you walk down the isles, making sure to slap it twice so "neither one of them feels left out." they will also brush their arm against your boobs playfully and smirk when you become a flustered mess.

/ they are always following you around the house, wanting to be close to you no matter how much you move around. that being said, you have always enjoyed sitting by the bathtub while they take a bath, or so you did until they invited you to take a bath with them. you haven't shared or bathed alone since that day, not that you are complaining.

/ they had never felt like they could rely on someone until they met you. it's like a part of their life that had always been missing that finally found its way home and their heart could finally stop aching for something they didn't even know they needed.

/ they stare at your lips 95% of the time that you are talking. if the topic of the conversation isn't something serious, hanji will pull you in for a little kiss after a while simply because they can't go on without having the slightest taste of you.

/ hanji tends to get super anxious when you have to go away for a few days for work and they aren't able to go with you. so they will facetime you at every chance they have: while you are driving, while you are eating, while you are in the shower, getting ready for bed.

/ they can barely sleep during the nights where you are away and, if the call happens to hang up in the middle of the night, they will start crying and frantically hyperventilating as they call you back again over and over until you pick up. as soon as they hear your sleepy and concerned voice, they calm down enough to go back to sleep.

/ you are constantly telling each other how much you love each other. wars (not really) have been fought in your household to decide who gets to say "i love you" last before bedtime.

[sugusearrings]

( ' safe & sound ' )

just close your eyes, the sun is going down you'll be alright no one can hurt you now come morning light you and i'll be safe and sound.

— summary: captain levi ackerman the strongest warrior alive is struggling to adjust after the war. but you (fem!reader) are there to remind him he deserves peace. — genre: fluff but tiny bit of angst. — playing: safe & sound by taylor swift — note(s): so aot just ended and i'm still in denial it's really over. my boy eren did nothing wrong but i understand, 80% is kind of a lot BUT HE WAS A CHILD WAR WEAPON. anyways, post war. SPOLIERS AHEAD JUST A FAIR WARNING OKAY. levi ackerman and reader have a slight age gape ( reader is 25 and levi is in his mid thirties). mentions of brief sex. mentions of scars and death. maybe some spelling errors i missed but i tried ~ levi may be grumpy and mean but he's a total softie to the reader. — word count: 2k

He inhaled sharply as his upper body sat up from his sleep. He could feel the cold sweat formed on his the side of his head rolling down. His chest rose up and down with each inhale he took. He ran his hand over his face. He glanced down at his hands. His two missing fingers always reminded him what happened almost five years ago now. The rumbling ending. Everyone is trying to rebuild a normal life. He never really knew what a normal life was. His life was all about fighting and survival and now it was over. What was Levi made for now?

He quickly reached over for his cane leaning against the nightstand.

Levi was determined not to be stuck to that damn chair, he did whatever exercise he could without putting too much on his body. There were some days he had to be wheeled around. But using the cane on the daily was happening often. He didn’t want to be helpless or dependent on anyone. He was never like that so why start now?

He made his way out of the bedroom and walked into the small hallway that normally took two minutes to pass but it felt entirely. He was on alert, adrenaline pumping through his veins already. How could he protect now? He felt so useless. Once the greatest warrior to this. At first it was hard accepting this new reality of his. All he wanted to do was sink more into the dark and isolate himself.

If he was gone, would anyone notice? Would anyone care? Those he loved and cared for were long gone leaving him alone. He never knew loneliness would become his true enemy.

He held his breath accepting his fate as he walked into the kitchen. His dull gray eye widen seeing you standing there already pouring some tea in one of his favorite cups. He nearly dropped his cane.

“Name…”

“Captain Levi?” You looked up at him a bit startled he was awake. He let out a heavy exhale.

“After all this time, you still callin’ me that?” He rolled his eye then shook his head. “Give me a break.” You giggled quietly with a light blush appearing on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, it’s just an old habit I guess.”

“What are you doing up?” He asked you completely ignoring what you said.

“I figured you would want some tea when you would wake up.” You replied walking over to grab another cup from the cabinet. Levi could feel his ears beginning to burn. He cleared his throat.

“You…know?” You turned around to see the flustered older man. You tilted your head slightly to the side and was baffled. He thought he could hide his nightmares from you. His nightmares of the past.

“Of course I do.”

Your warm smile still made his heart throb the same way it did when you two met.

He found you the most annoying thing ever. You were too optimistic for his liking and you were very emotional. You were immature and very impulsive. But he adored that about you. You weren’t scared to stand up for what you believe in, even against him. When he was your captain and you were just a cadet on his squad. You two saw things from different perspectives but he respected that. He wasn’t sure if he ever told you he did.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” He made his way over to the nearest chair at the table. He pulled it out so he could sit. You took the cup full of tea and walked over to place it in front of him.

“It’s okay, Levi. Your nightmares don’t always wake me,” you placed your hand over his, “I have my own too, y’know?” You gave him a gentle squeeze.

The guilt sunk deep in Levi’s chest. How could he not think about you having your own trauma for what you both went through. Losing people you love, being injured and almost close to death several times. You had many scars to prove it. Especially the one on your neck reaching to the top of your chest. It was easier to hide but doesn’t mean it wasn’t a constant reminder when you would change outfits, shower, even during intimate times.

“I’m a horrible husband aren’t I, name?” He sighed deeply, reaching to grab his cup the same way he always has. You smiled remembering the time you made fun of the way he held his glass to your other comrades. It was all laughter until Levi was behind you the whole time. When you turned around looking white as a ghost seeing Levi glaring down at you. You screamed loudly then he made you clean his office and room from top to bottom.

“A little bit.” You teased him playfully. You grinned when your husband glared at you. “I’m kidding, Levi. How are you a bad husband?”

“My wife has fucking nightmares next to me and here I am sleeping.” He snapped. You bit your bottom lip and lowered your eyes. “But I even breathe a certain way, she knows if there’s something wrong with me.” He went on becoming more aggravated with himself.

“You’re being hard on yourself again.”

“You’re not denying it.” He countered. You sighed deeply.

“Levi…I have nightmares, yes. But you help me just by being there next to me.” You gave him another squeeze. Before he could say some smart ass remark you cut him off. “You remind me of what’s happening now. I can’t forget the past...I can never forget. But waking up next you eases it and makes it better to deal with.” Levi remained silent.

He couldn’t believe someone like you could ever love someone like him. To this day he would be in disbelief. You were so warm and he was so cold. But here you are sharing a life with him.

“You make it sound so easy.” He mumbled lowly.

“I know when you have nightmares when you hold onto me tight.” You admitted. His eye widened looking over at you. You smiled shyly looking away. You were trying to hide the dark blush on your cheeks but he would always see it. You couldn’t hide it from him.

He could remember the first time he made you blush. It was the first time he saw you with your hair down. When he complemented you ( in his own way that didn’t sound too mean ), you blushed. His heart fluttered how perfect you looked with your cheeks flushed.

“You woke up because I wasn’t in bed this time…” You spoke snapping him out of his own thoughts.

“I thought in a marriage there was no such thing as secrets.” He joked dryly.

You laughed covering your mouth with your hand. He noticed some faint scars on your hand. He remembered that scar. He remembers all the scars on every inch of your body. He would kiss them gently some nights making your breathing hitch. He would kiss the scar on your neck the most. He felt that needed the most attention. The day he almost lost you for good.

You were fighting alongside him against Zeke for the first time.

That’s when Levi realizes his feelings for you.

He stood by your side whenever he can, waiting for you to recover. He would even read out loud to you. When you woke up a few days later, you asked him to re-read the sentence he just read because you couldn’t hear him.

What nearly broke him when he thought you drank the wine with the spinal fluid.

Thankfully you didn’t but he confessed his feelings for you the same night. Yes, it was inappropriate for a caption to be with his cadet but he didn’t care about his title or yours in that moment. Levi just needed you to know in case something happened. He was ready to hear your rejection but when you confessed your own feelings for him, he was relieved.

That’s when Zeke did the explosion, Levi had enough time to push you off the wagon leaving him to suffer the injuries alone. He doesn’t regret it. He’ll do it all over again.

“Is this how you pictured how things would be after?” You asked him gently. Levi closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them. His dull gray eyes staring into yours.

“Yes and no.”

“That’s not a fair answer, Captain Levi.”

“Name.”

“Sorry.” You held your hands up in defense. He sighed softly.

“Yes, I pictured this after the rumbling. Marrying you, having a normal life with you. Just being with you in peace. What I didn’t expect was to be like this.” He glanced down at his hand again that bandaged up from the fingers he lost from that explosion. “I wasn’t much of a looker then but god look at me now.” He let out a sad chuckle. You frowned, feeling your heart aching. Was he serious right now? You thought Levi was the most handsome man you ever met. You were drawn to his dark gray hues. During the day they would glisten.

“Levi, don’t think that. You’re still handsome to me and always will be.”

“Don’t feed me that shit, name.” Levi scoffed. His stubbornness was still the same as before. You sighed and rested your chin on your hand letting him ramble on his negativity. “Probably see me as a pity case.”

“If that’s so, why do we still make love four times a week?” You questioned. When you looked over to your husband who was silent but red in the face. You felt your lips curl up into a smirk. “Cat got your tongue, captain Levi? Oh I’m sorry, I forgot to mention how we fuck multiple times. All night if I don’t tap out.” You purred in a tone you knew was his weakness. Levi shifted a bit in his seat then brought his left hand to clear his throat.

“Shut it you brat.”

You simply smiled at your victory.

“I love you, Levi. I don’t know why you can’t accept that.”

“You deserve better.”

“So do you.” You replied back. Levi glared at you once again.

“How can you say that shit?”

“Because you’re saying it so why not?” You shrugged then got up to pour yourself that tea you swore it was cold by now. Levi’s eye scanned down to your body how it hid underneath his white shirt. When you would lift to reach something it exposed some of your bare flesh underneath. He held his breath for a moment.

“I just…hope this is what you want.” His voice spoke. You didn’t turn around. Your eyes glanced down at your cup you were holding. Your ring finger was empty but the silver band stood on your nightstand with your glass of water that was empty now. Levi would always bring you a glass of water before bed.

“I want to spend my life with you, Levi. We’re at peace now. You’re at peace. You deserved this. You risked your life so many times. Everyday it’s a struggle for you to live with what happened. But we can do it together, just trust me?”

You turned with glossy eyes staring back over to him. He used his strength to stand up on his own for a moment. Then he made his way over to you. Once he was close enough, he placed his hand on your cheek just studying your face.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings…I’m just scared to lose you.” He confessed not trying to make eye contact with you. You placed your hand on his cheek and stroked it with your thumb. You stroked over the scars left behind by the stitches on his face you did for him. “I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost you.”

“I survived to live a life with you, Levi.”

You whispered then leaned forward to place your lips against his. His arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer to his body. His lips moved against yours passionately. He pushed his body against yours causing your lower back to press against the counter. You let out a shaky breath when he broke the kiss then started to kiss along your neck. His fingers trailed down to the buttons on your shirt. Just when you were going to close your eyes and enjoy his lips sucking on your skin you were interrupted.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

You both pulled away at the same time to see a groggy toddler with messy dark hair all over the place. He hugged his stuffed bear tightly with his other arm.

“Hi baby.” You greeted him softly making. Levi straighten your shirt making sure the buttons were still in tact.

“What are you doing up, hm?” Levi asked him. The toddler frowned with his gray eyes half open.

“I wanna sleep with you and mama.” He made grabby hands towards him. He shook his head.

“Sorry kid, you have to go sleep in your bed like a big boy.” Your son sniffed and his big gray eyes began to water. Of course you were a sucker but you didn’t expect for Levi to be the one who caved in. “Tsk. Fine. Just for tonight.” Levi grabbed his cane and began to walk back into your bedroom. The little boy’s eyes beamed, making you giggle quietly. You brought the two cups to the sink thinking you were in the clear.

“Clean those damn cups.” Levi’s voice echoed from the bedroom.

You sucked your teeth with an eye roll.

“I’ll clean them in the morning.” You entered the bedroom seeing Levi already in bed. He leaned over to bring his son into bed. He snuggled up against his father, sighing happily feeling his warmth. You went over to your side on the bed to lay next to your son.

Levi always spoke about not wanting children. You didn’t have a clear answer if you wanted them or not. Some days you did but bringing them in a world like this wasn’t fair either. But finding out you were pregnant on your wedding day was a surprise. It meant you were pregnant during the fight that stopped the rumbling.

It was a miracle the child growing inside of you survived. But he’s a fighter like his father.

Asher Levi Ackerman.

A fortunate blessing for you both.

You leaned against the headboard stroking Asher’s hair as his eyes began to close.

“He looks just like you.” You whispered to Levi as you moved some of Asher’s dark hair out of his face. He smiled a bit.

“You think so?”

“Everyone says it. He looks nothing like me.”

“But he acts like you. A brat.”

You reached over to shove him playfully. It made him chuckle.

“Sleep, name. We have a long day at the shop tomorrow.”

“Fuck me.” You mumbled under your breath with a groan.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Levi laid down and closed his eyes hearing you giggle quietly before drifting back to sleep. You laid down staring at your son and husband cuddling with one another. You could tell Levi’s nightmare was over for the night. You soon drifted into a deep slumber.

And yes, you did forget to wash the teacups in the sink

But Levi washed them before opening the tea shop for the day but he did remember to scold you about it.

[arabella0001]

𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 👻

instagram ao3 wattpad - fanfics (info below)

fandoms : Naruto / Jujustu Kaisen / Bleach/ Hunter x Hunter/ Attack on Titan

(i'm up to requests! (character x character too)

. ݁ ₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ݁ SMUT LIST SMAU LIST + fluff

── ⋆⋅ my personal fav smut works ── ⋆⋅

✧Jujutsu Kaisen - i said i’d catch you if you fall (gojo x reader)

✧Naruto - marked by fate (kakashi hatake x reader)

✧Bleach - curiosity killed the cat (kisuke x reader)

✧Attack on titan - nowhere to hide (eren x reader)

✧Hunter x Hunter - unspoken tension / quiet obsession (illumi zoldyk)

✨ sasuke - one bed situation

my ongoing fics:

1. no room for weakness (sasuke x you) - ao3

2. dark bonds (itachi x you) - ao3

3. the one beyond his revenge (sasuke x reader) - ao3 / wattpad

.ᐟ if you ever find your artwork here (i mostly specify the source), dm me and i’ll delete it immediately!

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IMPORTANT

1) besides the kind messages I received in the last months, i also got a few hate comments about my stories (i must say i'm not native) and even insults directly at me where i’m not familiar with. you can scroll anytime so...I’ll be blocking and report comments like that. thanks!

2) update: i love requests, but if you are mean and demanding i’m not even gonna answer

much love💜

ko-fi

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