#attack on titan fanfiction

[littlerequiem]

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 4

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use (WC: 4.1k) A special thanks to @sixpennydame for her help on this chapter.

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Your eyes lock with his. Amber light kisses half of his face, placing the shadows under his eyes in the spotlight. They seem more present the nights before expeditions.

He raises a brow, as if asking, ‘what demons are you running from?’

“I draw,” your voice fills the silence. “Nights before expeditions. It helps me clear my head.”

.

.

.

The first memory Levi has of his mother is him combing through her long, black hair.

Not many could keep long hair in the Underground. The lack of sun exposure, for one, made it hard to keep healthy hair. And if not that, the lice usually did it. When it struck a brothel, women and men either found a way to kill those nasty fuckers or they were forced to shave their hair and wear cheap wigs instead.

And yet, his mother did manage. It was one of the things that drew men to her—Olympia and her hair that shone like midnight.

Kuchel’s hair was black, and it did, at times, seem to be made of darkness itself. Only, it was none of the misery found in the shadows of the Underground. Instead, it felt more like the darkness found in the night sky. Liquid starlight. Levi remembers running his fingers through her hair, marveling at the contrast of it against the paleness of his skin. 

Yes, Kuchel Ackerman’s hair was beautiful. Elegant, even.

When she died, people often told Levi he was her spitting image. He doesn’t know about that—he often wonders whether people only said this out of pity, a handout to somehow assuage his grief, or whether they truly meant it. But Levi supposes that if he inherited something, it is his mother’s hair. He has a decent amount of it, thick and dark, and when he runs his hand through it, he feels a little part of his mother in him.

Beyond that, he is different.

Levi has known for a long time that he is nothing special to look at. He’s boyish, nothing like the people Levi’s met over the years. Men and women alike, born with just the right set of genes and under the right circumstances. Levi’s not like that, and that’s just fine by him. He’s not a self-conscious man, after all; he knows his value. 

Still, the question begs to be asked: knowing all of this, why do you choose him as your subject today?

Levi looks up from his reading, considering this very question. Early morning is in full bloom, and Levi’s sitting around the table on the porch, enjoying his first tea of the day while reading the newspaper—two activities he’s neglected these past minutes. 

He’s been too busy pretending not to see you hiding your sketchbook.

What are you even hiding it for? You’re not fooling anyone. If your seated position—a blanket draped around your knees, tools tucked behind both—wasn’t a dead giveaway, your face certainly is. It always carries an intensity to it whenever you draw. Tight, puckered lips, like you were extorting all the pressure to the center of your face. A crinkling of concentrated brows. Vivid eyes, sharp with focus.

Levi reels all his restlessness in his fists. He should not interrupt you. He will not.

This is, as far as Levi is aware, the first time you are picking up a pencil in the last three years. The first time you show an interest in getting back into drawing at all, in fact, in the time since the Rumbling.

Which explains why Levi’s frozen like a statue, scared to pop this moment.

Don’t say anything, he tells himself. Don’t fucking ruin it for her.

Levi remembers the first time he caught you drawing like this. It was an evening before an expedition, one of the first ones that followed Isabel’s and Furlan’s deaths. Everyone huddled around the campfire, but you sat alone. He’d approached you then, the loner he was, seeking your presence like a moth to a flame. He remembers that look you wore when he caught you—wide eyes and parted lips. You thought he’d come to judge, to call you a creep for drawing others.

Instead, Levi asked if he could watch.

(Later, he would even tell you the hard truth—to keep on doing what you did, because this was the only way to immortalize every face, that many men and women in your drawings would not come back.)

From there on, Levi would often catch you drawing here and there. Cadets, squad leaders, horses—no subject seemed out of reach. He remembers Hange even trying to convince you to draw titans on a particular expedition (“Unfortunately, Hange, I think drawing a real-life titan, while also on a moving horse, would end in my untimely death.” “Boo…”).

You loved to draw and Levi loved to watch.

They say an artist’s gaze is alluring, and while Levi can agree your eyes have this magnetic way of pulling him in, there’s another thing Levi loves to watch.

It’s your hands. With them, you draw lines on paper. With them, you bring tenderness and kindness. With them, you heal people.

Recently, Levi's started to wonder how your hands would feel on him. The memories of last night are still on his mind; Levi remembers just how close you got to him.

“Hey, what do you think Erwin and Hange would be doing if they were with us?” your voice cuts through the silence.

Levi’s gaze widens slightly as he meets your lifted stare. He’s unsure if he heard you correctly. 

But no… he did. 

And Levi finds himself at a loss for words. 

This is the first time you’ve brought up this subject—brought them up. It isn’t that Levi doesn’t want to talk about Erwin and Hange, but he doesn’t remember the last time he could talk about anyone from his past. He thinks the 104th sometimes walks on eggshells around him, as if bringing names up might summon a curse best left forgotten.

But he supposes, if anyone would want to talk about the Survey Corps veterans, it would be you.

He’s grateful that it’s you.

“Erwin,” Levi finds his voice again, clearing his throat, “Erwin would bury himself in knowledge. That know-it-all would probably run the local library by now.”

“Ohh, good one. See, I would have bet on him becoming a teacher, but now that you mention that, well, I change my mind.”

Levi makes a humming sound, imagining Erwin following in his father’s footsteps. Fitting, certainly.

“He could do both,” Levi suggests.  

“He could do both—no! He would do both.”

An excited smile graces your lips then, just as you focus back on your sketchbook. The low morning light catches the scar on your face, and Levi thinks he would love to trace over it with his fingertips, to bestow softness where there was once pain.

“Erwin would have books from everywhere, I’m sure of it,” you continue with a bubbly tone. “He’d have an entire collection of it.”

“Yeah, his home would be a real mess.”

You snort, raising a brow at him. “You’d help him sort it out, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck no.” Levi scrunches his nose, remembering how often he used to clean after Hange and Erwin. “Erwin would need to learn to clean once and for all—or find someone to do it for him. Until then, I’m not stepping foot into his house.”

“Tough love, huh? Well... that just means he’d have an excuse to come here then, to enjoy the porch the way we are now.”

“Mm.”

“What kind of book do you reckon he’d be reading?”

Levi shrugs with one arm. “You’d know better. You were a designated member of his precious book club.”

You roll your eyes. “It was hardly a bookclub; we were four people.”

“At one point, you met every Sunday evening. That’s a book club to me.”

You tilt your head, amusement gleaming in your eyes. “You know, some might call knowing so much about a bookclub you’re not a part of rather unsettling, ‘Vi.”

“Please.” Levi crosses his arms over his chest, shooting you a look. “You just wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“That’s because we always hoped you’d join on your own. We all considered you our non-official member, you know.” Amusement flashes across your face as you seemingly scour past memories. “Like... a grumpy mascot, or something.”

Levi clicks his tongue, shaking his head dismissively.

Silence falls. Levi takes to watching the horizon. This side of the house with the porch faces the ocean; it’s just a few minutes walk to the beach from here. Today, Levi can tell that the waves are calm, that the tide is low; he can’t make out the sound of water. 

“What about Hange, then?”

Levi’s gaze focuses back on you as you ask this question; you’ve placed your bare feet on the chair, one arm looped around your knees and propping your chin on it.

“I think Hange would’ve poured themselves into modern inventions,” you say. “They only got to see some of Marley’s technology, but Kopon’s nation is more advanced, so I’m sure they would have wanted to go there... or at least see what remains of it.” 

Levi thinks if Hange’s life hadn’t been cut short, that they would have followed in Onyonkopon’s footsteps and ended up working on those damn flying machines. They showed such an interest for trains and moving vehicles—something Levi could never understand. Flying seems like the natural next step. 

He tells you as much.

“Walls, you’re right," you say. "We’d look up at the sky and see one of their inventions. I’m sure about it.”

“Yeah,” Levi suspects there’s fondness in his tone just about now, “we would.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, where Levi can just admire the sky and the clouds and you. He thinks this exact view would make a nice subject for a drawing—if he could draw.

It might be this realization that causes him to speak up, “Hey…”

“Mm?

“What are you hiding for?”

Your eyes fleet up, at first surprised, before melting away into a sheepish expression. You lift a hand to scratch the back of your neck, like Levi catching you hiding your sketchbook was somehow shameful. 

“You noticed, huh?”

“Hard to miss,” Levi mutters, brows scrunching low, “you’re shit at hiding.”

“Hey!”

“Face the truth, Adler. I’m half-blind and even I noticed.”

“You say that like you’re not one of the most perceptive people I know... I’m pretty sure you’re still leagues above everyone else.” You take to tapping the eraser side of the pencil against the arms of the seat. When you glance back at him, your expression softens. “Fine, you caught me. I was drawing you. But... well. It’s just that you’re easy to draw, Levi. Drawing you feels… natural, I guess. Always did.”

At that, Levi doesn’t have a reply. There’s a burning sensation forming in his belly, a flutter that’s close to panic, only he knows it is not quite that.

“Sorry,” you say, “does it... does it bother you? I can stop.”

“It’s fine…” this time, Levi is the one to glance away, heat prickling at his cheeks, “though I don’t know why you do it.”

A light breeze picks up his bangs; he gets a whiff of salt and sand.

“I guess I never told you before, but… you’ve always been a good subject.” Levi’s eyes flicker onto you, finding you glancing at your sketchbook with a gentle expression. “See, everyone always thought of you as this emotionless soldier, but… I never saw you like that. Those evenings when you’d sit by the fire and read, or stare into the flames, there was always... something slipping through the cracks.”

“... Something.”

“Yeah. Something.”

“And now?” Levi’s voice sounds hoarse to his ears. What he’d give for loud waves to muffle his words, for him to fall deep below waters. “Why draw me now?”

“And now… and now it seems like the easiest thing. Muscle memory, you know? My emotions are easier on paper than they are in my head.”

A ball forms in Levi’s throat. He wants to ask you about what sort of emotions you’re trying to make sense of, but saying those words seems unwise right now. Impossible, some might even say. 

“Keep on drawing, then,” is all he manages. 

For the rest of the morning, Levi lives something he never thought he’d experience again: you peacefully drawing while he savors the quiet morning. 

.

.

.

“Stay safe,” you tell him by the stables. You’re geared up for the expedition, your horse’s reins in hand.

Levi says nothing, but he squeezes your shoulder to convey his own words: Don’t die.

.

.

.

“Marigolds, periwinkles, carnations. These flowers will go right here, here, and… here. What do you think, ‘Vi?”

Levi squints, trying to ignore the glare in his eyes cast by the sun. He follows your delicate finger, pointing to spots in the garden, filled with different colors and scents.

“Looks fine to me,” Levi mutters.

You hum, placing a marker beside each plot of turned soil.

As promised, Levi is helping you decide what to plant where today. Ever since lunch, the two of you have been treating the space like a canvas that’s yours to fill—sectioning the land, preparing the soil, uprooting and transplanting potted flowers out of their containers, assigning them to specific spots of dirt. 

“I picked these flowers because they’re supposed to be good for beginners.” You roll your shoulders back as you shrug off your stiff crouching position. “I wonder if they’ll thrive.”

Levi makes a noncommittal noise in response, not knowing the answer to that question. He shifts his weight from one leg to another, trying to ignore the way his shirts clings to his skin. 

On account of the warm weather today, Levi has rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. He’s currently trying to ignore the urge to scratch at the red spots darting across his forearms—rashes from an overexposure of sun. Levi knows he ought to go back inside, but he stays rooted to his spot. He tells himself it’s because he promised to help, though he knows you’d chastise him if you noticed the state of his skin.    

He slides his sleeves back down before you notice. 

“They look like every other flower to me,” he finally declares, eying the delicate petals between your fingers, “fragile.”

“Well, flowers are more vulnerable than other plants, I’ll give you that. But you gotta trust in the process, right?”

“It’s not a question of trust,” Levi places a hand on his hip, attempting to fan himself using the edge of his shirt, “just trying to manage your expectations in case they die.”

“Whatever for?”

“So you don’t end up all pouty and sad.” 

You snort. “I won’t. We used to grow herbs near the infirmary back on Paradis, remember? Sure it’s not much different.”

Levi isn’t so sure about that, but he doesn’t say a thing to refute your observations. What does he know about growing things, anyway? All he’s ever seen of flowers is how they’re placed on graves. 

His peripheral vision catches you glancing up at him. Something akin to fondness flashes in your eyes, and Levi inextricably looks away. There’s a smudge of dirt streaked across your cheek, he noticed earlier. He has to urge to smudge it off of you, at least to inform you about it, but he holds back. 

“Hey, did you know flowers have unique meanings here in Marley?” he hears you babble on. “That each color and species is symbolic of a specific emotion?” You lift your index to point at a particular flower bed with flaxen petals. “The girl working in the library, she explained it to me. Yellow marigolds represent passion. Purple periwinkles serenity. And pink carnations are all about gratitude.”

Levi studies each flower, learning to commit the names and meanings to memory. “So you use them to express feelings and shit?” 

“Something like that.”

“Why go through all the trouble?”

“For many reasons. Some people like the poetry behind such gifts. Others like the game. And sometimes, people are just too shy to say the words out-loud, so they find comfort in finding other ways to express themselves.” 

“Is there a flower that says you’re a pain in the ass?” 

“Not that I know of.” You quirk a brow up at him. “Is that one directed at me?”

“Who else would it be about?”

That isn’t quite true. For you, there would be a thousand feelings to express. No flower could do it justice. But Levi doesn’t quite say that, either. 

Under the heat of your gaze—of feeling every fucking element working against him—Levi speaks up, “What about these blue ones?”

Levi has gestured to the flowers by the porch’s staircase, the only ones already planted into the garden’s soil. They’re the flowers you planted on your first weekend here. 

“Oh, that’s technically a herb,” you say. “Myosotis. The forget-me-not flower. It represents... love, in many ways.”

Levi watches the blue flowers sway with the wind. In the distance, running along the half-broken wooden fence, Scout is crawling around, attempting to catch butterflies.

The sight of the kitten distracts him for a moment.

“Hey, can I ask for your help?” You lift the lot of flowers in your hand. “I’m having a hard time digging this hole. I think there're pebbles blocking the way, but I’m scared these flowers will get all tangled up if they're not held properly.”

Levi peers over the edge of the garden plot. You’re planting carnations, holding them with one hand as you attempt to shovel a hole with the other. 

He grumbles something beneath his breath but walks closer anyway, his cane digging against the turned soil. Slowly, Levi leans on his uninjured leg and cane, bending to sit on the ground. He lets his ass fall on the soft grass with a gentle thud, cane laid by his side. Levi then turns towards you and accepts the fragile set of flowers with both hands. 

With a parting smile, you move back to your task. You shift your weight by pressing onto your knees, using the small shovel to push stubborn roots and obstacles aside.

Incidentally, it also gives Levi the perfect view of your ass.

And fuck, if your gardening outfit (worn-out denim overalls with a white t-shirt) didn’t already make his mind swim, this view now certainly does.

Not for the first time since you arrived, Levi has to wonder about the questionable fashion choices from Marley, and why you’ve so readily accepted to wear them.

And why, of all things, does it make his heart stutter?

Levi knows that human attraction is perfectly natural; he’s experienced it here and there across his life. Hell, even if he hadn’t, the world never shied from showing its brutal reality. 

But human attraction never mattered much to Levi. 

He’d be lying if it didn’t matter now.

Because Levi now imagines leaning back, his hand pressed on your lower back as he helps you stay balanced crouching. He tries to envision the texture of your overalls under his fingers. Would it be rough, or would it be soft—soft, like what he pictures your skin’s texture to be? How would you even react if he touched you? His touch would probably repulse you, right?

And yet, last night, he swore—

Levi closes his eyes, groaning inwardly.

What the hell is wrong with him? 

Is this really all because of last night, when he thought he saw you leaning in? Fuck, for all he knows, everything he saw was just a figment of his imagination. A trick of the light. He’s only able to see from one eye—should he rely on his sight? 

Sweat trickles now down his back, thick like honey. 

“Oi,” he blurs out, desperately trying to change the focus before his mind wanders further. “After all this shit grows, what will you do? You planning to open up a flower shop or what?”

“I’m not sure if I’d make for a very good florist.”

“You'd learn.”

“Maybe, but I’m afraid my motivations are more... selfish, in that regard. I wanted to experience what it was like, to tend to a garden. Do things normal people do, you know?” 

Levi stays silent. In the distance, Scout lets out a little meowing sound as she fails to catch a butterfly. 

“And... I also figured you might like something pretty in your home, too,” you add.  

At that, Levi has to click his tongue, the sound sharp against the gentle rustle of the wind. He looks out at the horizon. “I’m not much for pretty things.”

(That’s not entirely true. There’s you, and he’s certainly into your prettiness, as exemplified by the way his body is reacting in your proximity.)

“Who ever needs pretty things?” you point out. Levi frowns, turning his attention to you again. The sight of you surrounded by a myriad of flowers is like something straight out of a painting. Enchanting. “That’s the point of prettiness. It’s there to bring people joy, it’s there to be admired and inspiring. It may not be needed, but it’s appreciated, right?”

Levi's suddenly reminded of his mother, of the way she used to keep the house clean, of the way she used to teach him to drink tea. 

He remembers asking her why she did it. In his memories, her voice is soft like a feather. “Because it is pretty and elegant,” his mother answered, “and you are all those things, my Levi.” 

“Are you aware that even animals like pretty things?” By now, you’re a little out of breath from all the shoveling. You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. “Take pigs, for example. We think of them as dirty animals because of how they’re kept by humans, but... out in the wild, they’re pretty clean. They even like to decorate their homes with pretty things they collect.”

“Tch. Are you comparing the garden to a pig’s sty?”

You laugh. “'Course not. But what I’m trying to say... what I’m trying to say is that this garden feels like planting something… I don’t know, hopeful. Not because we need it for anything, but because it just... it just exists.”

Levi doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his hand test the soil between his fingertips. He thinks about how he used to hate the feel of dirt under his nails—how it reminded him of crawling his way out the Underground, of survival. That sentiment hasn’t changed here, only he finds himself being... willing to be in this state. 

“It’s not so bad,” he murmurs. 

Later, when Levi finally reaches out to place his handkerchief in your hand, telling you there's dirt on your face, he’ll come to another realization: That for the first time, he doesn’t have to worry that it’s blood you’re cleaning off your face. 

Just a bit of dirt. 

.

.

.

It’s like blood rains from the skies that day.

The expedition is declared a disaster.

.

.

.

A few days later, when Levi comes home from work, he finds another gift waiting for him on his dresser.

You’re not home tonight; you’ve volunteered to help with the preparations for the upcoming Equinox Festival, so he doesn’t get any opportunities to scold you for spending your money on him—again. 

Instead, Levi gets to unravel your letter. 

Levi, Mark my words, you’ll see that flowers have their use-cases, even for a tea-maniac like you. I hope this suits your tastes :) -A

Levi unwraps the gift, guessing already what its content might be. He isn’t disappointed. The bag contains loose tea leaves, filled to the brim, along with tiny white buds that remind Levi of snow. 

Elegant cursive adorns the note on the satchel, its reading clear as day.

Jasmine flower tea. 

I hope you enjoyed this update. The plot is going to start picking up from next chapter onwards, so I hope you can look forward to that ^^ If you have time, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments as they really keep me going. Take care!

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[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.”

[cosmicjoke]

Gone

3,077 words

Levi and Erwin in the aftermath of Furlan and Isabel's deaths:

//

Furlan and Isabel are gone.

They’re dead.

They’re dead, and Levi is going mad.

He doesn’t know where to go.  Doesn’t have any place, anymore.

He’s surrounded by people all the time.  All the time in this damned place.  There’s no privacy.  No place to hide.

His brain is collapsing.

He stands at the foot of the bunk he’d shared with Furlan, and stares at the empty space where his first and best friend should have been.  His… his brother…

He knows, in the women’s barracks, there’s an empty space where his little sister should be now, cold and abandoned… 

They’re both gone… they’re gone forever, and they ain’t comin’ back, and Levi wishes he could join them. 

He wants to die.

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder, and Levi starts, a vicious shock through him.  Reaches up without thinking.  Grabs the hand from his shoulder and crushes. 

There’s a whimpering sound, choking cries of agony, and he looks down and sees the twisted face of one of his corpsmates, eyes wet with fat tears, his begging voice, pleading for Levi to let go.

Levi does and stumbles back.

He didn’t mean…

Fuck… fuck… he can’t… can’t be here.  Needs to be away from here.

The soldier cowers away from him, staring up at him with horrified eyes.  Like he’s lookin’ at a monster.

Maybe he is.

Maybe that’s what Levi is.

Maybe…

Everyone he loves dies…

He turns and runs.

Runs from the barracks, runs out into the training yard, past the new recruits, milling around, looking lost… looking haunted…

Knows that look.  Knows it from the Underground.  Shocked resignation.  Despair… despair for the hopelessness of it all…

So many people died… so many… out there… out there on that damned expedition…

For what?  For what!?  What did they all die for?!  If they’d just… just stayed here in the Walls, if they’d just stayed, none of them would be dead now!  They’d all be here.  Right here.  Alive and laughing.  They’d still have life to live! 

He thinks of Flagon.  And that dark-haired soldier… Sairam, or whatever his name had been… Levi hadn’t paid enough attention… couldn’t remember…

They’d been bastards, but they hadn’t… they shouldn’t of… shouldn’t of died like that.  The soldiers he’d seen torn apart by one of those fucking monsters… none of them should have died. 

He doesn’t understand the point.  Doesn’t understand why they had to die…

And Fur and Izzy… God, oh God…

Smith… Smith said it was for humanity.  Said it was so humanity could be free… find freedom beyond the walls…

But Levi don’t know what freedom is worth if you’re dead.  Don’t know what it counts for if you ain’t alive to feel it!

Oh God, why had they ever come here?  Why had Levi allowed it?

He’d known… known it was dangerous… he hadn’t wanted…

But Fur… Fur’d gone on and on about living up above.  Livin’ in the Capital.  Actually livin’, instead of just survivin’.  Talked about… about gettin’ to eat fine every day.  About always havin’ a place to call home.  About bein’ warm in the winters and not havin’ to be so scared all the time, they wouldn’t find enough to eat.  About… about how Izzy could get her tooth fixed.  The one that’d been botherin’ her.  All… all any of ‘em could ever do when their teeth went bad was hope they fell out and didn’t kill ‘em with infection…

Him and Fur, they’d had… had to knock their own teeth out, more than a few, with rocks… rocks against their teeth…  Didn’t wanna’ do that to Izzy.

Wasn’t no teeth doctors down below.  Not any they could afford, no how.

He’d said… said they’d have better lives, up top, said… and… and it’d seemed like maybe it was true, for a while.  A little while.

Izzy’d gotten her tooth took care of, and Levi had thought��� maybe Fur was right… maybe…

But they were dead now, and what did their teeth matter if they were dead?  What did any of those dreams amount to?

He doesn’t understand.  Doesn’t understand any of it.  Doesn’t understand why he’s alive still, when they… it was their dream, but he was the only one left, and… 

He runs out of the training yard, out toward the gate, leadin’ into the streets. 

He doesn’t know where to go.  Can’t get away.  Can’t get away from these feelings…

God, oh God... he needs… needs somethin’… needs to do somethin’…

But he’s lost… no direction… no home…

He can’t go back Underground… nothin’ left there for him… Fur and Izzy are dead…

But he don’t… don’t belong in this place… Doesn’t know… doesn’t know what he can do for these people…

They signed up for this… he didn’t… he didn’t… he doesn’t belong…

And he can’t bear to see them throw their lives away for nothing…

Smith… Erwin Smith… he said it wasn’t for nothing… said it was for… for humanity…

Levi chokes on a strangled laugh.

He don’t know what that even means.

Movement… he feels it at his back, hears the voices floatin’ toward him.

Turns and sees him there.  Sees Smith, and that giant fucker he was always with, with the shaggy hair and big nose… sees the crazy one with her eyes, hidden behind her glasses, whited out… hidden… hidden away.

Somethin’ cracks inside him.

He’d almost killed Smith out there, in the fields.  Almost took his head off, only… only somethin’ had stopped him.  Somethin’…

Didn’t have no desire anymore, to kill him.  Wasn’t no point.  He’d been a threat to Fur and Izzy, and now they were gone anyway, and wasn’t no point to killin’ no one…

And then Smith’d started talkin’, and he’d sounded so sure.  Sounded like he knew, and Levi had listened, and he’d felt… felt some kinda’ pull… some kinda’ belief…

He wanted… wanted Smith to be right.  Wanted to believe… all those people… Furlan and Isabel, and all the others… wanted to believe they didn’t die for nothin’…  they didn’t die for nothin’…

He wanted…

But they were gone, and Levi still don’t know why… don’t know how he’s supposed to make it so they didn’t die for nothin’…

He wanders toward Smith and his friends… his friends…

Could a man like that even have any?

They don’t notice him.

Used to that.  Used to people not noticin’, on account he was so small…

“Oi!” He snaps, and now they notice.  They turn, the three of ‘em, starin’ down at him like he’s nothin’, like he’s worth less ‘an the dirt underneath their boots.

He straightens himself up, much as he can, and still feels like a child in front of the two giants, loomin’ over him.  Even the one with the glasses, he feels small… feels small near all of ‘em.

“… Private,” Smith starts, and the big one… Mike… Furlan had said his name was Mike… steps in front of him, as if he could stop him.  As if anyone could stop him, if he really wanted… really meant to kill…

Smith is lookin’ at him with a face like he knows… like he knows what he’s thinkin’… always got that look, the big, smug bastard… always got that look like he knows things, and Levi thinks he does.  Somehow, it makes it better and worse.  He don’t know.  He don’t…

Smith scares him.

He fuckin’ hates it.  Hates it.

Ain’t been… ain’t been scared ‘a no one… not since Kenny… not since Kenny…

“I wanna…” Levi starts, then stops.

He feels small and stupid, and don’t know what to say.  Don’t even know what he meant to say.

They’re lookin’ at him, all three.  Like he’s an insect.  Like he’s buzzin’ around where he ain’t wanted, and Levi’s face feels warm.  Thinks it’d be nice, if the ground opened underneath him and swallowed him up.  Brought him back down to the dark and filth below…

“I… I wanna’ talk to you,” he finally manages, and hates how his voice sounds unsure, like he’s askin’ a question, ‘stead of makin’a demand.

“… To me?” Smith questions, face flat, and Levi nods, eyes cuttin’ quick to the other two, before shiftin’ back to Smith.

“Yeah… I don’t think so, tiny,” Mike steps closer to Levi, and Levi feels himself tense, ready… ready for… he don’t know… don’t know what.  He’ll take the bastards face off, if he has to…

But Smith reaches out, a hand on Mike’s shoulder, pullin’ him back like some attack dog.

“It’s alright, Mike,” he says gently, familiar, and shifts around him, toward Levi himself.

Levi steps back, and he don’t even know why.

He wasn’t scared of Smith like that.  Not like that.  He could take him, if he had to.  Could take anyone.

It was just… somethin’ about him.  Somethin’ that got him unsettled.

Levi glares up at him a moment, before turning, moving away, and he hears Smith following behind, can hear the other two talkin’ at one another, probably discussin’ what a freak they think he is.

He waits ‘till he can’t really hear ‘em no more before stopping, turning to face the larger man.

Smith stops with him, lookin’ down at him with a question in his eyes.

And Levi realizes he don’t know what he wants to say.  Don’t know what he should even ask.  He don’t know.  Don’t know nothin’.  So he just stands there, long seconds passing, awkward and stupid, until finally Smith clears his throat.

“You wanted to ask me something?” He tries, and Levi looks away, starin’ at his boots.  They’re filthy.  Caked in mud and blood, and the nausea is back in his gut, threatening at the back of his throat.

“… That… that shit you said back there… ‘but how I could... my strength, how I could…” he stammers, not knowin’ what he’s trying to say, “… they’re dead,” he blurts, and finally looks back up at Smith, “they’re dead,” he repeats dumbly and doesn’t know what else to say.

They’re dead, and he’s still here, and he wants to cry, but he doesn’t even know how.

Ain’t cried is so long.

Smith frowns at him.

“Yes,” he says. 

Says it so casual, like Levi’s just commented on the color ‘a the sky or somethin’.  Like they’re talkin’ about what they should eat for lunch…

Somethin’ spikes in Levi, then.  A hot, furious blaze.

“They’re dead!” He spits, “They were…” and his hands shake.  He squeeze’s ‘em into fists to make ‘em stop, but they won’t, “they were my family,” he chokes, and his voice breaks, and he feels like a child.

“… Yes,” Smith says again.  No emotion.  No nothin’.

His face doesn’t even change.

Levi’s eyes burn, and God, he thinks he may start cryin’, and he can’t… can’t do that.

They meant everything to him… they… they were his family.  Don’t Smith understand that?  How could… how could anyone be so cold…?

Finally, Smith shifts, his shoulders loosening.

“I understand it hurts,” he says, voice still flat, and that blaze explodes in Levi’s chest.

“THEY WERE MY FAMILY!” He roars, and Smith don’t even flinch, don’t step away, don’t look frightened, and Levi don’t know what to do with that.  Don’t know how to react to someone who ain’t afraid of him.

His vision blurs, and he feels wet warmth down his cheeks, and viciously he wipes at his face.

Smith don’t understand nothin’!  Not nothin’! 

They… they were… he didn’t have no one… didn’t have nobody… and Furlan… and then Isabel… they were his family… he found ‘em… and he wasn’t alone, then… wasn’t alone…

And now he is, again.

Again…

“All… all them fancy words ‘a yours c-can’t bring ‘em back!” He shouts up at the statue of a man, and Smith keeps lookin’ back at him with unreadable eyes.

“No,” he shakes his head, “they can’t.”

“Then what’s the point!?” Levi cries, and he steps closer to Smith, now, steps right to him, and it’s ridiculous, he thinks, the way he has to crane his neck back just to keep his eyes on his face.  He can’t intimidate this man.  He don’t even know why he’d try.

“To give their deaths meaning,” Smith says, calm and sure, “you must lend your strength to the cause for which they died…”

Levi turns away, reaching for his head.  His fingers bury into the strands of his hair, tearing until fire rips through his scalp.

“But they didn’t die for your cause!” He grinds out, “They died ‘cause… ‘cause they wanted… ‘cause we were supposed to live in the Capital… we were supposed…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Smith says behind him, and Levi’s frame goes taught as a bowstring.

He turns, lookin’ back at him.

“What?” He chokes.

“It doesn’t matter,” Smith repeats, “their deaths furthered the cause of humanity, whether it was what they personally desired or not.  Therefore, their deaths will have meaning, so long as you fight to make that cause reality.”

Levi blinks up at him, feels fresh tears down his face, and Smith says nothing.

Speaks with no emotion.

Every word… every word outta’ his mouth was calm and sure.  And it made sense… what he was sayin’… it made horrible sense… but there weren’t no kindness in it.

Nothin’ human.

To give meaning to death…

Was that even possible? 

All Levi’d known all his life was death.  All he’d ever known… whether he was givin’ it, or it was bein’ givin’ to him… and didn’t never seem to be no sense to it.  Never no meaning.

But Smith said it like it was dead fact.  Said it like it was real as somethin’ you could touch and hold.

Said it so easy, like it didn’t change everything.  Said it like it was supposed to.

But it didn’t change that Fur and Izzy were gone, and Levi was alone now.

Levi wonders if Smith feels anything at all.

“… I loved them,” he chokes, and Smith looks at him, nothin’ in his eyes.

“Yes,” he says, and Levi snaps.

He don’t think, don’t even really realize he’s done it ‘till he’s launched himself at the bigger man, and suddenly he’s tackling him to the ground, knees planted on either side ‘a his chest, and he’s layin’ his fist into Smith’s face, over and over.

Smith tries resisting, reaching up to grasp Levi’s wrists, to try and stop him.  Levi smacks his hands away, and keeps hittin’, ‘till he feels the skin split beneath his fists, feels the warmth of blood, familiar and horrid, against his knuckles.

He could kill him.  He could crush Smith’s face into mush.  Could do it before anyone would be fast enough to stop him.  And then he’d be hung, and it wouldn’t matter… it wouldn’t matter, ‘cause Fur and Izzy were gone, and there was nothin’ left for him to protect…

Their deaths will have meaning, so long as you fight to make that cause reality…

The words echo around in his skull, and suddenly he feels the strength go outta’ him.

Killin’ Smith wouldn’t bring ‘em back, either. 

Dyin’ himself wouldn’t bring ‘em back.

Wouldn’t fix… anything…

Smith is starin’ up at him, face a bloody mask, already swollen from where Levi’s sunk his knuckles against his eye and cheek.  Got a broke nose, clear as day.

And still his expression is unmoving.  No fear.  No anger.  No hate. 

Levi falls away, and there’s a rush of feet behind him, strong arms suddenly hooked around him from behind, pullin’ him back and away, slammin’ him to the ground.

Levi don’t resist. 

Don’t resist as he’s forced onto his stomach, arms wrenched behind his back, the cold clamp of manacles over his wrists.  Someone’s hand crushes his head into the dirt. 

“Don’t hurt him,” he hears Smith say, and Levi laughs, sounds more like a sob.  Dirth and blood fills his mouth, and his eyes go blind with tears.

He couldn’t bring them back.  He couldn’t… couldn’t…

But dyin’ meant they’d be lost to the world forever.

He was the only one, anymore, who once knew them.

They’d be gone then, surely.  Mama’d be gone, too.  Kenny… if Kenny was dead like he thought…

All these people… all these people, he couldn’t save… couldn’t save ‘em… couldn’t keep ‘em from tossin’ their lives into the mouths of Titans… killin’ themselves for some hopeless dream…

But their lives weren’t worthless… nobody’s life was… was worthless…

And maybe… maybe Smith was right… maybe… maybe if he gave his strength… maybe… and that way… he could prove… he could prove it.  That their lives weren’t worthless.  That they mattered.  They all mattered.

All these people here.  Furlan and Isabel, and all these mad soldiers who gave their lives up for something impossible…

He couldn’t stop them.  He couldn’t save them.

But they mattered… they mattered… no matter how easy they died… no matter how cheap their lives got treated… tossed away and forgotten by those above… left to rot in the hole beneath their feet… stamped out just for gettin’ in the way, like how Kenny used to teach him… eatin’ from the inside by filth and decay, like how Mama… wasted to skin and bones and nobody to care… nobody to ask after… like him… like so many in the streets, just droppin’ to the ground and left for the worms… and Levi couldn’t… he wouldn’t let anyone forget that.  He wouldn’t… wouldn’t let the world forget these lives… these precious lives… 

They mattered more than anything.

He don’t care… don’t care how the world treats ‘em… don’t care how they treat each other… don’t care how everything in this life tries so hard to tell him otherwise…

Because he knew… he knew…

Their lives mattered, and if Smith was right… if he could prove it to this shitty world… if he could prove it by makin’ some hopeless dream a reality… by draggin’ it into existence…

He would…

He would do everything in his power…

If he couldn’t save ‘em… if he couldn’t…

He’d at least show this rotten world the lives it took had once existed, too, and it wasn’t allowed to forget them.

It wasn’t allowed.

So long as he had breath left to give…

For them, he thinks… for them…

He would give every last piece of himself so the world couldn’t ever forget…

[itsnathateasy]

chapter 3 is up! taglist: @satorella @brave-and-gentle @eleuthreomaniaaa

adding my note from ao3: i know i didn't post this on a friday, as i've said i'd do, but i was really debating getting political on here or not. on 28/02 there was a huge strike in my country (and all around the globe) about the tempi "accident". millions of citizens marched for justice, me included. it felt hypocrytical of me to be posting fanfiction when people my age lost their lives on a train i was on just two days before the tragedy took place. i encourage to read more about what happened in tempi on 28/02/2023 and how the entire government is - still - trying to cover up their crime.

"At Odds, At Heart"

Summary: Joining the military sure had a range of perks, except for your Commander being the infamous Erwin Smith. Even though things are difficult between the two of you, this wasn't enough, as crime makes its appearance. Who's the culprit? Why are they trying to pin it on you? And most importantly, who will Erwin Smith believe?

Status ↝ Ongoing ↝ Posting on Fridays!

Important info: Erwin x reader, rivals to lovers, slow burn

Authors' Note: Military au, where there are no titans and we're going through a peaceful era. For now.

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6

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erwin fanart source

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON LEVI

fem!reader, sfw, fluff, you leave lipstick all over levi before a mission and the scouts find out, just something super cutesy & short while i work on some longer pieces hehe, pls ignore errors lol, 1.3k words

“promise you’ll come back in one piece?” you say, smoothing the wrinkle between levi’s brow with a kiss. 

he glances up at you from under his lashes, crinkling his nose as a short, breathy laugh escapes him, one he tries to subdue. still, he can’t deny the happiness that slips onto his features, not when joy is so fleeting because of the life that the two of you live. 

cold hands run across your back, down to your hips as you straighten his collar, kissing his sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. “i’ve made it this far, haven’t i?” levi mutters, squeezing your sides gently before shifting you off of his lap.

he lifts you, sets you on the edge of his desk, causing some of the papers that erwin had dropped off earlier to crinkle. a smile graces your lips as levi stands, stretching his limbs behind him, the chair pushing away from the desk with a creak.

“i’m going to be late because of you,” levi remarks, eyes narrowed playfully, but he gives you another kiss on the lips, lingering there like it’s painful to pull away.

“then stop kissing me.” your hands splay across his chest, but you don’t push him away, feeling his heart beat under his ribcage, the melody that you will always come back to. still, levi tugs your hips forward, slots in between your legs, and kisses you even deeper. “it’s time for you to go, captain levi.” 

a heavy sigh weighs against your mouth, his exhale warm as he pulls back. “sounds like you want me gone.” 

“of course i don’t.” your voice softens as you play with his fingers for a moment, before he's tugging them away gently, withdrawing from your figure. “i'm going to have to find someone else to sleep next to while you’re away."

normally, you would’ve been going with levi and the rest of the scouts, but an injury from your last mission prevented you from going on any more for a few weeks. 

levi snorts, putting on his jacket, fixing the leather straps across his chest. “is that all i’m good for? killing titans and keeping your bed warm?”

you make a face at him, then shrug, half-hearted as he stares back at you with amusement. then, you laugh, cheerful and free; you know levi will come back to you. he has no other choice. 

levi makes his way towards the door. 

“levi?” 

he turns, the lipstick stains still visible on his cheek, dark against his pale skin. for a moment, you wonder if you should tell him—if he’d be mad if you didn’t. 

but then you remember he’s going to meet with a squad of fifteen year olds that have all almost died alongside him. if they really have a problem with their captain being loved by you, then they don’t care about him as much as you thought. 

you smile and shake your head, voice holding just enough mischief for levi to notice. “just be safe. i love you.” 

he softens. there are times where levi is hesitant to say the words, still worried you will be taken from him. but this is not one of those times. not when you will be separated for days, his life once again in danger. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

within ten minutes, levi is down to the first floor, pushing into the room where the members of his squad are already waiting. 

he’s only a minute late, but he feels like they must have been waiting for hours, the way that they are all gawking at him with wide eyes, connie’s jaw faltering slightly. “everyone here?” levi asks, doing a quick scan of the room, counting heads like he’s their babysitter. 

no one says anything. eren’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head, and jean covers his mouth, looking away as him and sasha let out a stifled giggle. 

levi’s mouth draws into an even thinner line. “what the hell are you snickering about?" he grumbles, looking at each of them individually, wondering who will be the first to confess. 

their eyes dart away dramatically, faces red. even eren, who is normally more obnoxious than the rest, seems to have run out of words to say. 

his eye twitches; levi wonders if connie’s head might burst, or if sasha’s laugh will rip out of her first. 

“well?” levi asks again, snapping, already tired of this mission. a hot cup of tea sounds nice, in bed next to you.

armin, as usual, is the one to speak up when no one else has anything intelligent to say. “well, sir,” the blonde says, gesturing towards his own face. “i think…”

levi touches his cheek, remembering all the places you’d kissed him earlier, wearing that pretty black dress and your dark lipstick. a sigh leaves him when he pulls his fingers away, the tips coming back, smeared with a deep red. 

he should've known.

“i see," levi says, staring for a moment, before meeting eren's eyes, his lips finally widening into a grin.

“ooooh," eren sings, his expression smug as mikasa elbows him, her own features pinched tight. "the captain’s in looooove."

levi knows they are expecting a reaction, a spectacle of the fact that he adores you. but he’s never kept it a secret, and he’s certainly not ashamed of all the things he feels for you. 

“and what if i am?” levi asks instead, pointedly staring eren down as the rest of the scouts watch the exchange. “honestly, i am surprised no one noticed sooner.”

eren’s jaw falters a bit; a small wave of silence falls over the scouts. you and levi don't make a point of hiding your relationship, but really, levi shouldn’t have been surprised that no one in his squad was observant enough to notice. 

or so he thought, anyway.

historia’s smaller, high-pitched voice breaks up the quiet, repeating your name back to him, as if affirmation that you’re the one he kisses goodnight. a silly question really, considering levi has never looked at anyone else with the same kind of tenderness. 

“it is her, isn’t it?” historia asks, smiling softly. “i only know because you’re always holding hands under the table when you think no one can see.”

levi raises his eyebrow. “clearly we were wrong about that.” though, of all the things to notice, he thought it’d be the way you kiss him after every mission, the way he’s harder on you than anyone else because he doesn’t want to lose you.

eren shrieks your name like he’s never heard it before, and levi is starting to wonder if the boy actually is an idiot. his old squad had known immediately; petra caught you sneaking up to levi’s quarters when you thought everyone else was asleep, kissing him on the cheek when you thought everyone's back was turned. 

it’s been a long time since then, he supposes. maybe the years have taught you subtlety. 

“how long have you been together?”

“does she actually like you?” 

“do you—” connie makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. “you know.” 

“connie!” jean shouts, whacking him on the back of the head. “what do you think! dumbass.” 

“hey!" connie says, rubbing his head. “geez. i just can’t picture it.” 

"i’d rather you didn’t." levi’s face turns sour, disturbed by a room full of teenagers discussing his private and romantic life. “bring it up again and i’ll leave you outside of the wall on the next mission.” he pauses, crosses his arms with an exasperated exhale. “and she likes me just fine. at least, she has for the past five years.” 

“five—” 

a new wave of questioning starts and levi pinches his temples, shakes his head, the red smear of lipstick still on his face.

levi almost wishes you could’ve been there to field the questions instead. you’ve always been better with the kids, connected with them a lot easier than levi had.

even if it was would’ve exposed his lovesick eyes, the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when you were around.

he’s never been very good about hiding it anyway.

[ackerink]

no, levi doesn't yell at his children. he'd never, a stern voice and serious face is enough to get his point across while still respecting them as a human being.

yes, levi wakes up in the middle of the night to make sure his children are alive and sleeping peacefully. he isn't paranoid, he's just a worried father. . .maybe he is paranoid.

no, levi isn't letting any of his daughters have boyfriends until they're at least fifteen. they are just too young to be thinking about love anyway.

yes, levi shed a couple tears during his first-born baby's birth. no, he won't ever admit it out loud.

no, levi isn't good with words but he hopes his children know that he loves them dearly even if he won't verbalize it 24/7.

yes, levi spoils his babies. they want that toy? he can't say no, their pleading eyes are too cute.

"they won't stay little for long." he tells himself.

[peachdues]

Levi Ackerman can and will blow your back out, but he’s also the type to lean in and press his lips hard against your forehead when you’re in the middle cumming so prettily for him.

He has your legs bent and nearly pinned to your ribs beneath the solid mass of his body. His arms are braced on either side of your head, one hand loosely fisted into your hair to make sure you keep your eyes on him and him alone. Every bit of his weight bears down into you, and it strikes you that between the fullness you feel from his cock and the pressure of his body against yours means there is no part of you that isn’t being thoroughly and completely consumed by him.

He curls one arm over your head, caging you in against the pillow while the other shoves between your sweat-slickened bodies. You think he means to play with your clit, but instead his hand presses firmly against your lower stomach as he continues hammering into you, allowing the blunt head of his cock to push repeatedly against that spot deep within that makes your vision turn white and your toes curl.

“There you are — oh,” he smirks at how you begin trembling beneath him, and the vibrations of your body only magnify as he rubs his hand in time with each hard grind of his hips as his cock continues bullying deeper and deeper into your soaking heat. “That’s the spot, huh, pretty girl?”

His smug, mocking smirk is a front; you know it by the way the muscles in his shoulders tense, signaling he’s summoning every bit of his own will power to fight off his own release, far too invested in savoring yours.

You’re also trying to hold on, and he knows that; he can sense it in the way your nails bite into his back, can see it in how your teeth sink into your plump bottom lip.

You want to cum — badly. And he’s more than eager to see you fall apart.

A growl, low and possessive builds in his throat. “Go on then — be a good girl and give me what I want.”

He gives another sharp, pointed thrust of his hips, burying himself all the way to his hilt before grinding against you, hard. “Let go,” he orders, his voice firmer and you know the leash he has on his own restraint is rapidly fraying.

Levi exhales a quiet swear of relief when he feels your cunt finally seize around him like a vice, and he is transfixed by broken staccato of his name that falls from your pretty lips as your climax washes over you like a wave. A surge of pride wells in his chest at how you manage to keep your eyes locked with his, even though he knows your instinct is to let them roll back into your head as you float among the clouds of pleasured bliss only until he can reach in and haul you back down to earth.

“Atta girl,” he coos, and the pace of his hips slow from those relentless, bruising thrusts to a gentle canting, each roll into your heat deep and purposeful. Then, he feels a surge of your wetness gush over him, dampening the coarse hairs of his base as the walls of your cunt continue to flutter and pulse around him, and Levi somehow finds himself becoming even more smitten with you than he already is. “Oh — it’s a big one, isn’t it?”

And when you look up at him with those big eyes of yours — wide and sparkling with tears of pleasure and exhaustion- and you nod, lower lip quivering, Levi can’t help but lean forward to press his lips to your forehead, as he continues fucking you through your high.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your damp forehead, his groin churning torturously against yours. “Good fucking girl, cumming for me like this.”

Each grind of his coarse base right against your clit sends sparks additional waves of electrifying pleasure rocking through you until your legs are twitching and spasming beneath him. But Levi only chuckles, the sound dark and rich and so distinctly him.

He continues to guide you through the dizzying ripples of your orgasm, and when the last, gentle wave flickers out like a candle flame, Levi imparts one, final kiss against your forehead.

And then he pulls back, but he is not finished — no where near it, in fact. One by one, your legs are pushed over his shoulders until your knees are pressed to your chest, and his lips curl into something between a grin and a sneer.

He leans down and presses his mouth to the shell of your ear, and you’re not sure whether it’s the heat or his breath or the severity of his promise that sends an excited chill down your spine as he hisses, “My turn.”

Banners from @/benkei-bear!

[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 🤍

[acmeangel]

♡ You're a member of Levi's Squad, and he asks you to marry him, when disaster strikes.

♡ SFW ♡ Canon!Levi x Fem!Reader ♡ One shot, a bit angsty, mentions of blood, injury, near-death experience ♡ Word count: 3019 ♡ Summary: After finally accepting that you're there to stay, Levi asks you to marry him. You're a member of his Squad, and being with him has always felt right. Not too long after, a dangerous scouting mission leaves you with a grave injury, and Levi is faced with the fear that you might not make it.

When Levi asked you to marry him, it wasn’t with some extravagant proposal or planned-out, grand romantic evening.

You both were lying in your bed in the barracks, your body half-draped on top of his, your fingers lazily playing with strands of his hair. His hands grazed up and down your back with a steady, soothing tempo.

You’d both returned from a scouting mission earlier that day — one with too many casualties, as there always seemed to be. Levi had recruited you to be on his Special Operations Squad years ago, based purely on your stats from previous missions with other squads. At first, he had respected you, much like he’d respected all of the members of Squad Levi; a group of people willing to join the riskiest regiment and put their lives on the line in the futile hope to save humanity.

Respect had eventually turned into friendship, which had then grown into something more. You two loved each other long before your romantic relationship had begun; so when it finally did, it felt natural, like it was always supposed to be that way.

In your bed, that night, he looked at you with a tender softness that bordered on melancholic. It was a look that he didn’t show often. His eyes revealed how deeply he cared for you, how much he wanted to shield you — who he saw as one of the last few truly good things left in this world — from the cruelty, violence, and destruction that ran rampant around you. It was a look that no one else ever got to see.

“I want to run something by you,” he stated, his voice level and smooth as ever.

“Oh, do tell, Captain.” You laughed, faintly, your eyes sparkling with a glint of amusement.

His hand traced up your back and slid around your neck, his thumb rubbing gentle, affectionate circles onto your skin.

“How would you feel about the two of us being together, like this, forever?” he asked, his gaze locking onto yours, an unusual stiffness in his expression. You couldn’t believe it, but he was actually nervous.

You blinked once, twice and tilted your head. “Levi, are you asking… me to marry you?”

You weren’t entirely surprised that this was how he’d phrased it — he’d never been one for verbosity or overly sentimental language. He’d showed his love for you more in his actions; in the way he always checked you for injuries at least three times after a mission, in the way he’d stroke the back of your hand with his thumb when he held it as you fell asleep, in the way he’d insist on giving you half of his own breakfast every morning so you’d have enough energy for the day.

“Yes, Y/N,” he’d said, his hand shifting to cup your cheek, his soft gray eyes settling into yours. “I’m asking you to marry me.”

You felt all of the blood rush to your head, your entire body overwhelmed with excitement, joy, and love for Levi.

“Yes,” you managed to say — and repeated the single word at least twenty times, as you leaned in to press your lips to his, peppering him over and over with kisses.

“Alright, alright,” he’d mumbled after the twentieth kiss, his cheeks then flushed with a soft pink blush.

You beamed with joy as you pulled your face back from his, your eyes glimmering with adoration.

“So,” you began, a hint of playfulness in your voice, raising your eyebrow, “do I get a ring then, or what?”

His lips pressed together, his gaze narrowing just a bit as he considered the question, a puff of air escaping his nose.

“Fine.” His voice was a low, dry mumble, but his lips bent into a small smile, the tension in his forehead releasing. He couldn’t help but give into every one of your requests, no matter what.

His eyes scanned around the room, looking for something suitable, before he reached out to the bedside table, the muscles in his shoulders and back flexing as he took a paperclip from a stack of papers. Turning back to you, his fingers worked with precision to unravel the paper clip, the wire of which he used to form a nearly perfect circle. He took your hand, his touch gentle, and slid the makeshift paper clip ring onto your ring finger in one swift, delicate motion.

“How’s that?” His eyes studied your face, intently waiting for any sign of reaction. “Temporarily, anyway.”

Your cheeks blushed uncontrollably and you gleamed with a smile so wide it made the muscles in your face turn sore. Seeing you this way made him smile — a real smile.

“It’s perfect,” you’d whispered, practically choking the words out. “Much better than any stupid diamond I’ve ever seen.”

“Think we need to do the whole ceremony thing? Or can I just start calling you my wife now?” His brows scrunched together slightly as he waited for your answer, and you could tell how badly he wanted to skip the frills and formalities and simply be yours, eternally.

At the sound of the word ‘wife’ your chest swelled with affection, and your eyes became misty, blurring your vision of him.

“Screw the ceremony,” you whispered, your voice shaking with overflowing emotion. “We’re married, now.”

“Good,” he whispered back, his own voice fraught with feeling, as his thumbs brushed away the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks. “I love you, Y/N. You know that.”

His eyes bore into yours, seeking confirmation. He didn’t say ‘I love you’ often, only when it really counted.

“I know,” you whispered. “I love you, too, Levi.”

******

It was only weeks after that — after the moment Levi decided, finally, that you would be by his side forever, that he knew you’d never leave him — that your squad was faced with a particularly dangerous mission.

It was another reconnaissance mission, much like all of the other Scouts’ missions had been, but no one could have anticipated the amount of Abnormals. The Scouts hadn’t reached a single objective before entire groups of Erwin’s formation had been wiped out by the Abnormals, which were making their way closer and closer to the center groups. Erwin had officially called for a retreat — something he rarely ever did, only when the situation was dire.

Levi Squad raced forward on horseback, galloping past the blurred, unidentifiable carnage of comrades; the once green fields had turned red and rotten.

Your gaze was fixated intently on Levi, catching glimpses of his profile as he led the squad forward — to anyone else, he looked entirely collected. But you knew him too well and had memorized all of his micro-expressions, and based on the tension in his jaw and the chilled intensity of his gaze, you knew he was worried, too. He’d often admitted that he never knew what the outcome of these missions would be, that no one did, and you could see his mind racing with that exact thought.

The pounding of impossibly large footsteps caused the ground to shake just slightly, enough to make your head whip around and see a group of Abnormals charging forward with unprecedented speed and force.

“Captain!” You’d called out, drawing Levi’s attention. He’d simply glanced over his shoulder and ordered to keep moving forward per Erwin’s command; based on the looks the rest of the squad exchanged, you knew they were unsure about this decision.

Before anyone could think or say another word, one of the Abnormals had surged forward and began to reach for Eld, whose blades were inexplicably jammed in his ODM gear. The panic in his eyes was enough to strike fear into anyone.

You sprung into action immediately — this was simply how you were. You never wasted time thinking, you only acted. It was reckless, perhaps, but you’d gotten results time and time again, and the thought of losing a friend without trying to save him was unacceptable to you.

This was one of the things Levi loved most about you, and it was also one of the things he wished so badly to change about you. He admired your selflessness, your fearlessness, the way you never seemed to be paralyzed by indecision. But, sometimes, it felt to him like only a matter of time before something terrible would happen to you.

You’d managed to sink a grappling hook into the Titan and propel yourself off of your horse, in the direction of Eld, knocking him out of the Titan’s path. You’d planned on being able to then reach the nape of the neck and put an end to this, but you were too rash, too impulsive to anticipate that the Titan’s next movement would whack your ODM wire to the side, bringing your body flinging through the air with it.

The rest, in your recollection, was more or less a blur. You knew that the Titan curled its fingers around your body, its grip bruising your skin and rendering you too immobile to fight back. You knew that you’d heard Levi yelling — actually yelling. You knew that the Titan had brought you to its mouth and managed to sink its teeth into the side of your body enough to make you lose consciousness, but not enough to kill you. You knew that Levi was the one who had intervened, who had saved your life. The last piece of memory you had was the sight of Levi’s face as he grabbed you from the Titan, a look that was so intense, fear-stricken, and furious, it bordered on crazed.

After getting you back onto the ground, Hange had ridden over on horseback and hoisted your limp body onto the horse, carrying you out of harm’s way.

Levi took care of that Titan himself — he made sure of it. Blinded by rage and agony, he slaughtered the Titan with a brutality he typically withheld. Normally, Levi did only as much has he had to in order to kill a Titan. This wasn’t fun for him, it wasn’t a game; he didn’t like fighting, he didn’t like being violent.

But this was different — he sliced the Titan apart, his movements a fevered, merciless haze, his vision red with bloodthirstiness. By the time he was done with the Titan, it was a mere pile of limbs, and he was drenched in its blood.

He’d finally reached the wagon that you’d been placed in, climbing into it with urgent movements, trailing Titan blood behind him. His pupils were constricted; his eyes were glowing with panic.

Your body was lying flat in the wagon, Hange and some of the other squad members hovering over you, attempting to tend to your wounds, their efforts proving futile. They’d managed to wrap a bandage over where the Titan had bit you, but you were bleeding through it with no sign of stopping. There wasn’t anything left to do until you all returned inside the walls.

“Get the fuck away from her! Don’t fucking touch her!” He shouted, his voice coarse and sharp, his arms effortlessly shoving everyone else away from your limp body. He stood over you, his eyes wild with emotion, his chest rising and falling with breaths so heavy it looked almost painful.

When he dropped to his knees beside you, his eyes caught sight of your hand, on the makeshift paperclip ring he had made you, that you’d refused to ever take off. An ice-cold chill rushed down his spine, so sharp it felt like it was actually ripping him apart from the inside out.

“Why is this wagon moving so damn slowly?!” He snarled to the rest of the squad, his eyes desperately glued to your face, while the others scrambled to try and speed the journey up as much as they could.

He grasped onto your hand with both of his as if the sheer force of his grip could heal you and bring you back to him. His eyes didn’t waver from your face once, his gaze burning into your skin, searching for even the slightest sign of life; all he was met with was your sweat-glistened skin. You looked peaceful and it snapped his last thread of self-control — he wanted you to fight.

An uncontrollable, livid, primal growl escaped his mouth, unable to form any coherent words. Spit flung off his lips and into the wind, his expression was frenzied with helpless rage and despair.

The rest of the squad’s expressions froze. They’d never seen Levi be anything but stoic, apart from when he was actively slicing the nape of a Titan’s neck. Goosebumps dotted their skin as they simply watched, eyes wide, unsure of what to do. Levi had forgotten anyone else was even there; he cared about nothing in that moment but you.

He watched as your face turned lifeless, as your breathing became so shallow that it was hardly perceptible. You were slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do about it — for once, his strength meant nothing.

“No,” he barked, his voice gruff and strained, his grip on your hand tightening until his knuckles turned blazing white. “You won’t be taken from me. This shitty, goddamned world is not going to take you from me. You gave your word, Y/N. You said forever. Don’t back out on me now.”

His cries didn’t make a sound, but the sight of his back heaving raggedly and his hot tears dropping down onto your face was unmistakable. His face was twisted with anguish; his teeth were visibly clenched together so forcefully that they could’ve cracked. His hands began to involuntarily shake as they held onto your hand, the paperclip ring digging into his skin.

******

The next time you’d opened your eyes, you were confused. Your vision was blurry for a few moments, until you were met with the sight of the medical unit and you realized you were lying in one of the beds.

The next thing you saw was Levi’s face, the veins in neck tense with distress, the circles under his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them before. You took a deep breath, which hurt, and you felt the bandages around your waist expand and contract against your skin.

Upon seeing your eyes begin to faintly blink open, Levi moved to the edge of his chair, his hand urgently reaching out for yours, his eyes wildly moving across your face.

“Y/N?” His voice was raspy with disuse and lack of sleep, his tone pleading and tinged with hope.

“Levi…?” you whispered, groggily, your voice low and coarse.

His eyes fluttered closed with relief, his shoulders slumping as his head dropped down to your hand, holding it to his forehead with reverence. “Oh, thank god…” He whispered, his voice stilted with emotion.

Once Levi composed himself, and you began asking him questions, he explained to you, briefly, what had happened — he didn’t want to alarm or worry you with the more gruesome details until he was sure you were okay. All he told you was that a Titan had attacked you on the last scouting mission and that you’d been in the medical unit for weeks.

You’d learned later that the entire time, Levi had barely left your side. He’d sat in a chair next to you, watching you, talking to you, holding your hand, and urging you to wake up and come back to him. At night, he’d slept even less than usual, nodding off in his chair for only an hour or so here and there. Some of the other squad members could have sworn they’d even caught glimpses of Levi crying when he thought no one else was around.

The only time he ever left your side was if he had to go to briefings and meetings. When he did, he’d threaten medics into sitting by your side, outlining grave consequences for if anything happened to you while he was gone. He’d skipped meals, trainings, and anything else that wasn’t absolutely mandatory for him to attend.

After he’d finished helping you sip some water and become less groggy, he just looked at you, his eyes scanning over every centimeter of your face, as if making sure that you were really awake and stable and it wasn’t some insomnia-induced hallucination.

“You’re done with the Scouts,” he’d said, finally, his voice firm, unyielding — it wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Huh?” Your brows pressed together with confusion. “Who decided that? Erwin? What, does he think I’m useless now?”

“No, Y/N.” He shook his head, taking a soft breath before continuing. “I’m deciding it.”

“Levi-“

“No,” he cut you off before you can even think to object. His jaw clenched, his expression was fraught with concern. “Y/N. I thought you were… gone. It nearly killed me. This- nothing can ever happen to you again. You’re my wife. I need you to be here, with me. I need to know you’re safe, Y/N. I can’t- if you’d actually… Please, Y/N.”

For a moment, this surprised you. Outside of missions, Levi had never told you what to do or asked anything of you — he was protective, but not possessive. You being with him, caring for him, and loving him was more than he’d ever dared to hope for in his life. To him, you’d settle for him despite his most hidden scars, and it felt wrong to ever ask for more.

But he was asking you to do this. Begging you. For him.

“Okay,” your voice dipped to a gentle softness, your hand reaching out for his again, somewhat weakly. “Okay, Levi. I’ll leave the Scouts. Nothing will ever happen to me again. Everything’s going to be okay.”

A slow, uneven breath escaped his lips, as if expelling all of the fear and tension in his body. He collapsed into you, softly, his forehead pressed against your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he breathed, the words barely making a sound. “I love you, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.”

He didn’t say it often, only when it really counted.

Masterlist

Requests are OPEN!

Requested by anonymous!

Taglist (message me to be added!): @leviykwim

[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.

[zekescherries]

"hey, keep your eyes open. . ." levi's voice trembles, he isn't one to panic but the thought of you bleeding out and dying right in front of him is beyond frightening. "keep talking, talk to me." he applies pressure to your abdomen, watching as the blood seeps through your uniform.

"levi. . ." you look around, dazed, finally your eyes meet his. "yes?" levi leans into you, his expression firm before he sees you slipping into unconsciousness again. "hey. . ." he gives you a gentle shake. he lets a scoff escape his lips, sweat dripping from his forehead into the hot skin of his hands.

"don't die, not yet. there's so much you'll leave behind. . .me, the corps, the life we built together. i need you to stay."

[mishellii]

petnames headcanons .ᐟ.ᐟ

modernworld!attack on titan x fem!reader

including: eren, armin, levi, hange, erwin, jean, mikasa, connie & sasha

warnings: NSFW! minors do not interact; not proofread,,, as always, pretty self indulgent oops

likes & reblogs appreciated<3

masterlist

𐙚EREN.

★i have this fb image about him in my head that i just can't get rid of

★...... babygirl

★but hear me out

★most of the times when he has NO idea what you're on about or he's trying to tease u

★uses it mostly while texting tho!

★"that's literally insane bbg"

★he's so UGHH

★always greets u with babe

★he'd definitely use ur name as well but he loves loves petnames

★sugar, pretty girl, u name it

★thinks they're so cute

★when ur asking something of him or like giving him shit he'd hit u with a

★"sure, ma"

★and idk about u but that's kinda hot

NSFW.

★so so basic but he loves calling you baby during sex, even though he calls u that all the time

★i think he'd use such teasing words and soft n sweet petnames just fit so well with that

★"oh, now you're listening, baby?"

★"c'mon, pretty, you were all mouthy earlier, tell me."

★says ur name only when he cums :)

★and the usual good girl when ur finished

★c'mon we been knew

──────────୨ৎ───────────

𐙚ARMIN.

★love

★LOVE

★just love man he's so so loving in his words he wouldn't ever call you anything degrading

★"sure, angel, i'll get right to it."

★but most likely when texting??

★perhaps he's too shy to call u anything but your name in public but he's trying i promise

★also the type to call u something only the both of you would know the reason behind; something no one else would know why he'd call u that

NSFW.

★oh my sweet boy

★i am a sub armin believer, but more on the switchy side so he could definitely dom if he feels confident enough in the relationship

★"please, angel, let me cum"

★with that subtle manipulative tone barely noticeable because of his oh so gentle words

★"i know, darling, just a bit more, please?"

★also loveeees moaning your name and hearing YOU say his name cuz he feels more connected this way

★,,,sighs dreamily

𐙚LEVI.

★this little bloke

★refuses to call u anything but ur name in public like,,,, if there's other people, he's using your name there's no way around it

★except for the infamous brat of course (i'm bumping that)

★,,i'm not telling you again, brat."

★in the comfort of ur living space, where it's just the two of you, he might throw in something cute if he's in a particularly soft mood

★"Already did the dishes, love, go lay down."

★pretty confident when he's texting tho, but simply cuz the words sound too foreign coming out of his mouth

★"Sure, Sweetheart. See you at home."

NSFW.

★dom levi defender for life u can haunt me down idc i stand by this

★once he feels comfortable and secure enough in ur relationship, certain you won't run off, he'd definitely lose the no-feelings-attitude and become more playful and daring

★"hands above your head, doll, i'm not telling you again."

★he can be pretty mean and unfair ,,,

★just.... u need to give him what he wants before he gives u what you want u feel me

★"beg"

★-"please."

★"like a good girl."

★not opposed to throwing in the brat again if ur pissing him off

★i'd gladly piss him off

★gnawing at the bars of my enclosure rn

𐙚HANGE.

★AAAAA A A A AAAAAAA

★"darling, i'm almost done."

★i would go to war for hange pls someone hold my hand

★now i think they're not entirely intrigued by pet names but some do slip out when they're feeling soft or they're in a silly mood

★once hange stalked the internet for too long and found "the cuppycake song" and started calling u stuff like my snoogums boogums or hunny bunch to get on ur nerves

★when noticing you're down or not in the best mood they use comforting ones tho

★"you okay, dear?"

★texts usually with the basic babe cuz they think it's short and still comes across as endearing, right?

NSFW.

★ugh

★"legs spread, sweet thing."

★ hange's a switch me thinks but with a preference for dominating??? idk why i'm even talking about this but y'all need to get the idea

★"did i tell you to move, pretty girl?"

★ugh pt.2

★when feeling subby they'd mostly use ur name tho ??

★or a teasing "yes, ma'am" to get u even more worked up (if u weren't already)

𐙚ERWIN.

★mr.smith my god

★he's so sweetheart coded fuck off

★and always puts "my" infront of pet names to insure people know u belong together

★doesn't matter if ur married or not

★"i'm just finishing up work, my love."

★if he talks with someone else about you it'd be either "my lady" or "my wife"

★he's oh so respectful when he talks about u i'm going insane

★texting would be the same tbh

NSFW.

★ahem

★"there you go, sweet girl. that's it."

★HE'S JUST SO-

★like he loves ur name too don't get me wrong but once he knows how much u love hearing him say those things it'll be hard to get him to stop

★"let me hear you, angel."

★makes u feel so much with his words and soft voice i hate it here

★erwin smith the man u are

𐙚JEAN.

★"hey, good lookin', how's it going?"

★doesn't reaaalllyyy call u much aside from babe in public, cuz he's a bit more private about showing his love

★not afraid to step up and make it known you're with him tho

★"yeah, my girl's not interested, thank you."

★during texting too like

★almost same as armin in personal pet names like,,,, idk

★u got an embarrassing haircut ONCE he's not letting it go

★"sure, bowl cut, i'll be there soon."

★i mean it's endearing come oooonn

NSFW.

★"you're so good to me, beautiful."

★i'm almost convinced he's all about praising words and names in bed (can u tell i don't like degradation oops)

★making u feel so good about urself cuz that's exactly what he wants

★also something along the lines of

★"go on, pretty thing, i got you."

★such a charmer

★i want 14 of him rn

𐙚MIKASA.

★step back ladies, i got this 🫷🏼😌🫸🏼

★in all seriousness, mommikasa's pretty light on the petnames imo

★she's a softy at heart tho, so she'll definitely call u sumn along the lines of love or sweets

★mostly in the comfort of ur 4 walls tho !!

★such huge emphasis on my GIRLFRIEND when introducing you to someone or talking about u

★wants the people to KNOW you're hers.

★she don't play about u

NSFW.

★lord have mercy

★pretty pretty girl is a force to be reckoned with

★"yeah, gorgeous, you like that?" in her soft voice with that devilish undertone

★settling for the basic baby most of the time tho, cuz it rolls off her tongue so easily when she's with u

★if you're being good, she'll let you know with sumn like "that's my girl." or "you're my pretty girl, yes?"

★again

★BIG👏🏻EMPHASIS👏🏻on the "my" part

𐙚CONNIE.

★this douche is all in always everywhere

★literally only calls u shit because he loves messing with u

★it's his form of affection i promise

★"ey, smelly, come here."

★genuinely, he's so weird

★"pookie, i didn't mean it."

★when ur pissed at something he said

★but he CAN be sweet obviously but only ever with calling you baby

★he's one of the girls when he's texting you like

★"omg bestie tell me"

★or

★"dpwm girl"

★he's so dry but uses memes to even it out

★i adore him actually

NSFW.

★"i told you, beautiful, no touching."

★he's actually really sweet during sex i promise he's not always a dick

★he DOES love u and he's not afraid to show/tell u with touching u in the right places AND with his words

★"keep going, ma."

★also baby baby baby so much baby UGH

★constance springer in my bed this instant

𐙚SASHA.

★mrs.potato girl def calls u anything and i mean anything related to the thing she loves most

★food.

★sugar, pumpkin or cupcake

★she loves food and she loves you so how could she not :(

★i fear sasha forgets ur name sometimes cuz it's so natural for her to call u sweet nicknames instead

★it's pretty much her love language

★as well for pda but that's a topic for another day cuz i will not STOP once i start

★"hey, girlie" when greeting u in a high pitched voice like,,, she's so easy to love bro

★also definitely gorgeous. ure her gorgeous girl.

NSFW.

★pillow princess sasha confirmed👑

★no i mean she can definitely take the lead, there's not really a fixed power dynamic when ur with her, but i feel she most times prefers being taken care of (as she SHOULD)

★main thing she'll call u during the nasty is baby

★depends on what ure into but she's definitely into addressing u as "ma'am"

★also princess :(

★uses ur name more during sex tho!!

★feels it's more intimate and personal that way

★i want to EAT her

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed this veRY self indulgent lil thing aaaand i'll see u beans next time! uuuhbye bye xx

[amywritesthings]

dating on airplane mode. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader Fandom: attack on titan (modern au) Word Count: 3.5k 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, eventual smut, sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @/saradika-graphics / gif by pankago

part one. / part three. | masterlist

There’s a pop-up shop about six floors above yours—

A noisy bar quickly becomes background white noise.

—if you don’t mind walking a neighbor home.

And within a breath, the world ceases to exist.

You’re not sure what you were expecting him to say, but it sure as hell isn’t that.

(He gets paid to be a smooth talker, but holy shit, it is catastrophically different when you’re saddled with the reality that you can walk — run — straight to the man inviting you to his home.)

Before you can even think, your voice blurts out of your parted lips:

“I don’t mind.”

Not.

At.

All.

Annie will forgive you.

Hell, you bet everyone crowding that tiny high-top table will forgive you come Monday morning when you’re back in the office.

Half of them won’t even remember that you were there in the first place. It’s a win-win situation.

There is no hesitation in the way you pick up your purse from the countertop and rush towards the front entrance of the bar, your eyes zeroed in on a patient Levi.

It takes some serpentining, but eventually you burst through the doors.

Levi turns towards you, his cell phone still held to his ear. 

There’s a little pink in his cheeks — from the nipping bite of the cold evening weather or his quick-witted pick-up line, you aren’t sure.

“Sorry,” you exhale like you’ve run a marathon in such a short distance. “I should’ve said bye or something before running out here, but I figured—”

The fringe of his hair shakes in his eyes as he holds up a finger to his lips.

Silence.

A stern expression replaces the debonair, and for a moment, you wonder if something is wrong.

But then—

“Yeah, no, I’m calling out for the evening,” he states. “Will you relay, Petra?”

Petra.

You know that woman’s name.

(The hotline receptionist responsible for connecting you to him.)

“Not an emergency, no,” he reassures, brows briefly knitting together. “Just taking some time off.” A pause. “Why are you laughing?” Another pause. “Forward them to Erwin. I trust him not to run my damn clients off. Thanks.”

Oh.

He’s—

“Sorry about that.”

Pocketing his phone, he squares his shoulders and waits expectantly. 

A suspicious crawl of embarrassment runs through your veins, like somehow being spontaneous — selfish — inconvenienced him.

“You had a shift tonight?” you ask belatedly.

“I did,” Levi admits, that buttery-smooth voice curving with a lift of amusement. “And now I don’t.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to mess up your—”

“I have over a hundred hours of time accrued,” he interrupts in the very tone he’s used in your sessions before when you chalk up your existence as being a nuisance to him: stop. “If anything, it’ll get them off of my ass for never using it.”

Your brows raise. “A hundred?”

“Over,” Levi corrects, “so you’re doing me a favor — if you’re still in the mood for tea, of course.”

There’s a pause. A taxi flies by to fill the anticipating void.

I’m well past the mood for tea — is what you would say if you were a psychopath.

Instead you clamp your mouth shut and nod. 

Levi nods with you, seemingly exhaling a breath he may have been holding. As he steps forward, one foot in front of the other.

His attention drops from your face, searching your form in a way that makes you feel exposed.

Wanted.

Then he clears his throat and raises a stiff elbow — a polite gesture.

Take it.

The sheer idea of touching him is so fucking daunting.

Until now, you haven’t done anything but fantasize about him, but he’s flesh and blood and right in front of you — if you’re willing to simply take.

So you do.

Slowly you glide your hand over the crease of his elbow, tucking it against his side until your bodies are looped. The sheer cut of his bicep in his 90-degree angle threatens to make you lose your composure.

Jesus, it’s so solid.

(It’ll be a miracle if you even make it back to his apartment in one piece, let alone your own after everything is said and done.)

He walks. You follow until you match his pace.

For most of the journey, the two of you step in silent tandem. 

While he stares ahead, stopping you both whenever you reach a crosswalk, you can’t help but look over his profile. His cheekbones are even higher than you imagined, chiseled from the Gods, with dark hair that fades in an undercut at the nape of his neck.

Levi is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life, and you live in a pretty damn busy city, so you’ve seen a lot of men.

“Stairs or elevator?” he asks once he breaks the rhythm of your feet to move two paces ahead, grabbing the door with his fist. He detaches from you to pull open the door, offering you to walk through first. 

You’re so giddy over the chivalry you nearly miss the question. 

“Wait, what?”

“Stairs.” He nods his head, the stark black fringe waving with it. “Or elevator.”

“You live on the sixteenth floor.” 

“Yeah.”

“Wait — Levi, do you walk the fucking stairs?”

Levi blinks like he has to remember that isn’t normal before clearing his throat.

“Sometimes.”

“Oh my god.”

“I didn’t want to get complacent after losing my job at the gym,” he states, changing his trajectory as he heads for the elevator instead.

You’re grateful that, for once, you’re not trying to act brave — or stupid.

Your big mouth doesn’t try to say that sixteen flights of stairs is totally fine just to impress him.

(This man has already heard what you sound like when you orgasm on more than one occasion. In some twisted way, the two of you are way past the surface stages of courting, but it doesn’t make this any less daunting.)

Once more he tracks ahead to hold the elevator door for you. Waiting until you’re comfortably inside, he presses the grayed ‘16’ button on the panel. It illuminates in an outdated hazy yellow — forcing your attention to the grayed ‘10’ just below it.

Six fucking floors, all this time.

Once the doors close, Levi Ackerman leans his back against the metal wall, his arms crossed and forearms barred from his rolled-up sleeves. 

You stay put in the dead center of the lift, watching him stare at the elevator panel until he lifts his chin to look back at you.

Neither of you look away.

The prolonged eye contact feels like an acknowledgement of a solved mystery between two people.

He knows you better than most people. You’d wager you may know him just as well.

“You okay?” he asks, softer this time. 

The intensity of his gaze doesn’t waver.

You find yourself nodding before you realize it. 

“Are you?”

Levi takes a moment to drop his attention an indiscernible amount, mulling over your question, before meeting your eyes once again.

“Yeah. Better than.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Nothing can stop the smile growing on your face, not even by pressing your lips together.

“Never told me your preference,” he states casually, shaking some of his black fringe from his eyes. “In tea, I mean.”

“I’m happy to have whatever you have,” you promise. “I’m not picky.”

“You can be,” he promises right back. “Trust me, I have every type of tea you could think of.”

“Hoarding?”

“Hopelessly addicted, more like.”

The elevator pauses and gives way to the sixteenth floor’s hallway. When the door opens, Levi unfurls his arms to hold his hand out for you to take — only to seem to think better of it and fish for his keys instead as he takes the lead.

Instinctually your hand flexes at the ready to accept, but it falls limp to your side with the decision to simply follow behind.

(Yeah — you’re not used to the proximity yet, either.)

After passing a few apartments, Levi pauses at a door identical to yours and fiddles with the lock until it gives. 

He pushes it open, gesturing for you to walk in first.

A part of you wants to hesitate.

The rest of you refuses.

His apartment is clean to a degree you’ve never seen before — for a person who had no idea he was going to end up coming home with a stranger, you’re impressed by the lack of clothes lying about or…

Really anything.

Everything appears pristine. 

Taken care of.

So meticulously in order that you quickly toe each shoe off before stepping inside to leave the dirt and grime of the city at his doorstep. 

Levi follows suit, removing his shoes and closing the door behind him.

As you stand awkwardly by the door, he shuffles around you to the kitchenette mirroring yours a few apartments below. 

He reaches up into the cupboards to take out two mugs, preparing a kettle on the stove.

“Make yourself at home,” he offers, glancing over his shoulder towards you.

Right.

At home.

At home in the apartment where you got your shit verbally rocked for a week straight.

Afraid of offending him, you begin a slow mosey around the perimeter.

To the right is a cluster of framed photographs hanging on a wall — one portrays a tall, handsome blonde wearing dog tags around his neck and an all-smiles brunette with glasses cinching a less-than-enthused Levi between them. 

The proximity suggests they could be his friends, though the keys each person holds in the photo makes you realize a second later: 

In the background is a boxing ring, barely unpacked.

The co-owners of the old gym, maybe?

Considering the one person has dog tags, you can only assume they all met in the army and found themselves in the same city after deployment.

Another framed photograph has Levi in a similar annoyed disposition, arms crossed and unenthusiastic in contrast to the surrounding smiling young adults. They crowd him in various poses of muscle flexing, proudly sporting Survey Gym tees.

So his gym was called Survey Gym, huh?

The name rings a bell, if only in passing.

The young faces surrounding him must have been his trainees. His fighters.

(The people he held dear before the gym went under and he had to find a new path.)

“Trying to find dirt on me already?”

His voice makes you jump out of your damn skin.

“Oh — shit, sorry,” you sputter, stepping away from the wall. “I was just—”

“That was a joke,” he interrupts, the corner of his lip twitching. 

Levi takes the initiative to walk over to you with both mugs in hand, steaming from freshly brewed tea.

He holds out a no-frills emerald mug to you, and the scent finally catches your nose:

Lavender.

“Those are my friends, if you’re too polite to ask.”

“I was relying on context clues,” you confess, mindful of the heat when taking the mug from his hand. You sip until a familiar warmth spreads through your body. “Co-owners?”

“Used to be,” he answers after his own gulp. His free hand gestures to the photo with two people. “Hange’s probably clinically insane and Erwin’s not much better.”

“The guy you mentioned over the phone to Petra?”

Levi nods, taking another long sip of his tea. You follow suit, enjoying the taste.

“Same guy who got me into the hotline, yeah.” He switches focus to the other photo. “Some of my fighters. They’re busy training with other coaches and shit now.”

“Would you ever go back to training fighters if you could?”

“Probably,” Levi replies, “but I’m not exactly the easiest to work with. If I’m training anyone, it’s alongside Erwin. No exceptions.”

Silence settles between your bodies.

As you continue to stand there, allowing the aroma of the tea to calm your senses, you know — the longer you stand here, the more what ifs begin to plague your mind.

What if you met his friends, became a part of his life?

What if you don’t measure up to his expectations?

What if you just said what was on your mind without holding back — would it scare him?

When you feel your mug suddenly grow light, your instinct is to clench your hand around the ceramic handle.

However, you come back down to Earth to realize the person maneuvering the cup is Levi, who has in turn moved closer to you —

So close you can smell the faint scent of a woody, musky cologne.

Angled towards your body, he pauses in removing the mug from your hands when he feels your muscles tense. “You’re disappearing on me.”

So he noticed, even in person.

Say it.

Say it, idiot.

“Just…” 

Trailing off, you find yourself trusting him; letting go of the mug freely so that he can take it back. Levi sets both mugs down on a slender table situated just under the photographs, placing them on swirling marble coasters.

“Just?” he repeats, a mere murmur this time.

“This doesn’t feel real yet,” you confess. “Being here with you. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I wanted this but in my own apartment. Hell, it feels like this is my apartment because we have the same fucking layout — but yours is so much cleaner, I won’t even lie to you.”

It brings you both to laugh under your breath, octaves intertwining. 

When he shakes his head, you find yourself gravitating to his orbit.

“Doubt it’s bad.”

“Oh, it’s a pigsty compared to this place,” you nervously giggle, moving even closer. “Like, I should go home to clean it – but later.”

“Definitely later.”

“Like tomorrow kind of later," you accidentally joke.

“Agreed.”

Oh.

Before the realization hits you, your breath tickles his cheek. Levi is practically toe-to-toe and warm, so very warm, to the degree of dizzying every reservation you had.

You don’t have the confidence to stare anywhere but his lips, parted with little puffs mirroring yours.

“And what is that you want now?” he adds quietly — a question that shoots straight to your core, twisting it with an intense desire that it nearly takes your breath away.

You know.

And if you were a gambling woman, then you suspect that he knows, too.

Three words exit your mouth, straight from your very soul:

“To be selfish.”

It’s all it takes.

As if released from a leash holding you both to your leads, you meet Levi in a passionate, suffocating kiss. 

His hands reach for your face the same time you reach for his, mangling your limbs in a race to touch, to hold — to feel.

Manners are left behind as you press your lips to his, kissing him like you’ll die without. Your own hands bury themselves in the softness of his hair, dragging through the freshly-buzzed undercut and earning yourself a groan.

Shit.

He sounds even better in person.

“Levi—”

You part your lips with a shuddered breath when his tongue leisurely slides across it. All coherent thought ceases to exist.

It’s just him pushing closer — guiding you backwards — until your back hits something solid.

A surprised grunt melts into another groan as he moves one hand to cradle your head, mindful that the back of your skull doesn’t slam against the wall.

Levi tastes like the pineapple seltzer you abandoned back at the bar.

You want this.

Him.

Never in your wildest dreams have you considered sleeping over a man’s apartment before the third date, let alone the first, yet the heat of him — the taste of him — opens brand-new possibilities that mostly focus on the rest of that body underneath his gray long-sleeved shirt.

You're already grabbing the hem of your shirt. The fabric feels too tight against your blazing skin.

Off.

Everything needs to be off.

“Hey,” he exhales in-between kisses, catching your lower lip in his teeth to tug at it. Instantly you whine into his mouth, an involuntary (and fucking embarrassing) noise. “Hey—”

If he asks, you’ll say yes. 

To hell with the unwritten rules.

You’re consenting adults, it’s clear you both want this, and when push comes to shove —

A hand shoots out, covering yours before your shirt can lift over your bra.

“Baby—”

All motor functions effectively freeze when you realize Levi is pulling away, forcefully creating some distance between your panting bodies.

“Baby, listen to me.”

As if in pain, he grits his teeth and pulls away from the kiss, eyes damn near black. 

You’re left watching, stunned and disheveled and painfully aroused.

Worries go from nonexistent to overdrive in a matter of seconds.

“What’s wrong?” you quietly ask despite your budding panic. “Fuck. Sorry, did I do something wro—”

“No. Shit, are you kidding?”

Those stormy eyes catch yours, and you feel another sharp wave of desire flow through your body.

“You’re perfect,” Levi continues, struggling to catch his breath. “You’re fucking perfect, it’s just—”

Just.

One word acts like a splash of cold water.

You’re perfect, but something is imperfect about this. 

You’re perfect, but he still wants to stop.

Levi scowls, voice rough. “Oi. I can hear you thinking a mile a minute.”

Heat rises to your face. “Me?”

“Yeah, you — so don’t.”

For good measure of reassurance, Levi leans back in to gently peck your lips. It’s less heated but by no means less passionate.

You belatedly press your lips back to his before watching him pull away. 

His lips are slick with saliva and exertion. 

There’s a deeper flush on his face that wasn’t there earlier.

“It’s just that I don’t want to rush this,” he states as calmly and evenly as he can.

Objectively, you get it.

Objectively, Levi is making a whole lot of sense. Rushing into things could end up with a lot of heartbreak and confusion. Taking it slow hurts way less than speedrunning the firsts of a new dating-situation-whatever this is.

Subjectively, you’ve heard him moan in your actual face and you would very much like to hear it again and again until it’s burned into the back of your brain like a core memory.

“And I’m not trying to say that we can’t — trust me, I want to — but you’re not some one-night stand to me in any capacity of the damn phrase.”

Unable to help yourself, you nervously roll your eyes and shrug a shoulder. 

“Technically we’re kind of way past one night stands considering we’ve had, like, six.”

A wicked smirk flickers across his face. 

“Yeah, no fucking kidding — but that isn’t what I mean.”

Taking yet another slow, even inhale, the dark-haired man runs his thumb affectionately over your cheek.

“Let me do right by you. By this. Even if it’s corny as shit, I’ll try it.”

Pausing, he drops the hand on your face to gently take your hand.

“I want to take you out on a date. A nice date. Something proper — starting with finishing our tea, then walking you home so I know you got to your apartment safe.”

“I’m six floors away, Levi,” you tease.

“I’ll settle on taking the elevator with you,” he retorts, teasing right back. "Still: let me prove I can be good to you. That I can earn you."

He pauses, jaw clenched.

"Earn us."

Reluctantly you both detach, the taste shared on your lips. He wastes no time to take your hand in his, squeezing it for emphasis, before giving you back your cup of tea.

Although the room is charged with tension, you both behave.

Sipping tea.

Holding hands.

Staring.

As much as you want to act on your desires, you’re flattered he’s so adamant to take this slow.

It only grounds this fantasy further into the woven fabric of reality — of what’s to come in your life.

Levi is good on his word: he walks you to the elevator, through the corridor and to your apartment.

And when you’ve managed to wriggle your keys into the door, he gently calls your name.

Just as you turn, he places that warm hand on your cheek and presses his lips back to yours.

This time it’s chaste, sweet — lingering.

They brush yours methodically, as if committing your body to memory, before reluctantly pulling away.

“Goodnight, formerly Scarlet,” he states under his breath for only you to hear.

“Goodnight, still Levi,” you return, mirroring his intimacy in tone.

Satisfied, he kisses you one final time before pulling away. 

You watch as he walks backwards towards the stairwell of the apartment complex, a certain glow about him as he asks:

“Will I see you at the gym in the morning?”

As if you’d ever skip a leg day now.

.

Author's Note:

First of all, much love and appreciation for your patience as I finally found the mental capacity to write this chapter. Naturally it was easier to write in the summer, and fall has been A Time (TM). I have a lot of big life events coming up in the next few weeks, but I will keep the dash posted on when they should expect part three.

Thank you for any likes, replies, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

[caffeinateddino]

Post Rumbling! Levi Ackerman x reader [18+]

title: i hit my toe

♡ warnings: sexual content, masturbation, masturbation interruptus, no actual sex

summary: You, a former squad leader in the survey corps luckily survived the rumbling and now you're staying with Levi in Marley, attending him and keeping him company

though there might more than basic comradery between you because you catch him mastrubating to the thoughts of you.

second part is here

"Peppers... cucumbers... milk... bread..." You checked the basket once more as you made your way toward the house where you were staying with Levi. "All done," you whispered, satisfied that the grocery shopping was finally complete. The day had been long, but at last, it was over.

You were a former squad leader in the Survey Corps, now staying with Levi in Marley to assist and attend to him following the rumbling. Your role had shifted from field leader to just someone who's living a domestic life with Levi, balancing your days between supporting Levi and working as a nurse at the local hospital. The adjustment had been significant, and you only saw him in the evenings.

Lately, you’d noticed some changes in him. His once sharp, hardened demeanor had softened—not that it was a bad thing. Perhaps he was just being kinder to you, the last person remaining from the original squad leaders. His habits had shifted too. Levi was sleeping better now, getting at least six or seven hours of rest, and even taking naps during the day.

It was a relief to see him taking care of himself after all the years of sleepless nights.

As you unlocked the door and quietly stepped inside, careful not to make any noise, just in case if Levi's asleep. You placed the straw basket down gently. After locking the door behind you, you slipped off your jacket and shoes, smoothing your hair in the mirror before walking further into the house.

But then, something made you stop—a soft whimper. You frowned, pausing to listen. Was Levi hurt? Did something happen? The sound was faint but unmistakable, coming from his room. The door was slightly ajar, and your heart raced as you cautiously peeked inside.

You stood frozen at the door, your hand flying to your mouth in shock. What you initially thought was pain turned out to be something entirely different.

Levi's slender figure lay on his bed, the blanket covering his thighs but not concealing the rest of him. He was slowly stroking himself, one arm shielding his eyes as soft whimpers escaped him with each stroke. Beads of pre-cum trailed down his tip to his fingers, and the usually stoic expression on his face was replaced with an expression of quiet need.

What startled you even more was the way his lips parted, and a breathless, almost inaudible whisper of your name escaped them. It was barely more than a murmur, but it was unmistakably.. your name.

Your heart raced as he whimpered your name again, this time with a strained groan. His hand's pace quickened, and despite his attempts to keep quiet, you could hear every muffled breath, every whisper of your name. The room felt suffocating, and your own breath grew heavy as you watched him.

What were you supposed to do? Say something? Give him privacy? Seeing him so vulnerable and needy made you feel both selfish and compelled to act. Levi, who had endured so much and carried the weight of the world, was here, letting go in the privacy of his while.. thinking of you. The realization struck you deeply. It was both shocking and disarming.

He looked beautiful. you felt a desperate need to reach out to him, to replace his hand with your own and share this moment of vulnerability with him.

You watched as his jaw tightened, his body arching slightly off the bed as he climaxed, thick drops of cum seeping through his fingers. He moved his arm away from his eyes and rubbed his face with his clean hand, a sigh of frustration and.. guilt escaping him.

your breath caught in your throat, and you couldn’t help but gasp softly in surprise. The sound was almost imperceptible, but Levi’s sharp instincts immediately picked up on it. His body tensed, and his eyes flew open, searching the room with a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

In an instant, he turned his head toward the door, his expression shifting from blissful vulnerability to one of acute awareness. His face uncharacteristically flushed, and he quickly pulled the blanket over himself, his movements a mix of hurried and deliberate.

Levi’s gaze locked onto yours, and a heavy silence filled the room. His usually stoic demeanor cracked, revealing an uncharacteristic blend of shame and vulnerability. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to regain his composure.

“Why... why are you here?” His voice was a low, strained whisper, a stark contrast to the softness it had held moments before. His eyes flickered with a mix of defensiveness and pleading, as though searching for a way to explain or make amends. You could see him grappling with the sudden shift from pleasure to exposure, his mind racing to process the intrusion. His hand trembled slightly as he tried to cover himself more securely, but his eyes never left yours.

“I'm sorry,” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t see anything.” you quickly turned yiur face away. "didn’t mean to intrude,” you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I just… I must have hit my toe on something.. I didn’t actually see or hear anything.” You lied.

Levi raised a brow, a mixture of relief and lingering embarrassment flickering across his face. He nodded slowly, clearly still processing the situation.

“Right,” he said, his voice a little more controlled now. “I see.” You took a deep breath, determined to maintain a sense of normalcy. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything,” you said, forcing a calm smile. “I’ll make some tea. Just let me know if you want to join.” Levi gave a slight nod, his expression still guarded but appreciative of your attempt to give him space. “Thanks,” he murmured.

As you walked away, your mind raced with the revelation of what you had unintentionally stumbled upon. The image of Levi, so vulnerable and whispering your name, lingered in your thoughts. It was a striking contrast to the composed and stoic persona he usually presented.

In the quiet of the kitchen, as you prepared the tea, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught between an overwhelming sense of intimacy and the need to respect Levi’s privacy. The knowledge that he had been thinking of you in such an intimate moment was.. disarming..

No but, shit.. like..???

[cheriecoke]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ COME BACK TO BED — levi ackerman

summary . . . you crave levi, but he isn't there when you wake up.

contents . . . f!reader, nsfw mdni, cock warming, office (?) sex, creampie, piv, unprotected sex, fluff, honestly i haven't been in much of a mood to write smut but this has been in my drafts for a while so it gets really soft at the end— 2.2k

you walk into the room, frowning at the sight of your lover still behind his desk, bent over the parchment. light shadows his face, sparkling over him like a candle, illuminating him in a yellow hue. he’s so beautiful, and you ache for him. the desperation inside of you only grows, even though it is dually coated in worry. 

“levi?” you say, lips drawn down as you approach, blinking away your sleepiness. “why are you still working?” 

it’s nearly three in the morning; the bed was cold and empty when you left, and the middle of winter was unforgiving. though levi didn’t sleep often, he, at least, made an effort to when you were at his side. tonight, though, it seems he’s given up on the matter, scribbling notes on the paperwork instead.

“i have to finish this by tomorrow,” levi says, dismissive, not even bothering to glance up. 

your frown deepens, and you repeat his name, softer as you come around the side of the desk. you’d woken up so desperate for him, and when he was not there to coax an orgasm out of you, you’d tried to take on the task yourself. 

though, your fingers didn’t feel as nice as his did, hadn’t reached the places inside of you that his cock could. and, you craved it, craved him so much that you hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. 

“come back to bed,” you mutter, but even then, you can hear the desperation in your voice, the subtle tone that it takes on whenever you want him badly. 

his writing stops. he turns back to you, eyes hardening as you place a gentle hand on his shoulder. you run your soft fingertips along the juncture between his neck and jaw, batting your eyelashes at him so sweetly. 

there’s a dark look in his irises that you pick up on easily, but you can’t tell if he’s irritated with you, or if it’s the lust that is spreading in the ocean of his eyes. his jaw sets, and his normally straight mouth draws tighter. “i have to finish this.” 

“can i stay here, then?” 

he sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek. “i’m—”

you can already hear his protest, how he’ll say your name so softly in an apology, kiss you on the lips before sending you back to your shared room. but you’re determined to get your way tonight, and you can feel the wetness gathering between your legs, the ache still thrumming through your body. 

“want you inside me, levi,” you say softly, almost begging as you lean down to whisper into his ear. “please.” 

levi stops, eyeing you with the intensity that he faces with everyone, an intensity that doesn’t always soften for you. still, by now, you’re used to it — find it endearing, really, how serious he can be. 

“you going to be a distraction?” levi scans your face. 

you jut your lower lip out just a bit, almost pouting, “no,” you promise. “just want to feel you.” 

for a moment, he considers, before finally relenting. levi sighs, then pulls back the chair, his strong thighs on display as you maneuver yourself onto his lap. even the brief feeling of his knee against your clothed cunt sends a sharp whimper through you. 

“you can’t move. i’ve put this off for long enough.” 

“since when did you care about any of that?” you ask, yawning as you slip your pants off your hips. “i thought hange did the paperwork, anyway.” 

“if only.” he gives you a pointed look, tracing your jaw with his thumb. “just sit still.” 

levi focuses his attention back on the paperwork, and when you spare a brief glance at it, you notice that it’s reports from the past few missions. for the government in the interior, assigned specifically to captain levi. 

you refrain from a sarcastic remark, and instead, slide levi’s zipper down, waiting for any reaction. he gives you none, signs his name on the bottom line, and flips the parchment over. 

“levi,” you start, but he shushes you again, kissing your cheek dismissively. 

“no talking.” 

“you’re so rude.” 

he raises his eyebrow, but you slide his cock out of his pants, warming it in your palm. a soft little sigh leaves him as you stroke him until he’s hard, but he schools his expression into a neutral position, leaning back in the chair. 

you’re naked from the waist down, but he doesn’t seem to care. with something of a frown, you slip his cock inside you and sink your hips down. your fingers dig into his shoulders as you move, sliding right into him.

levi’s dark eyes dart towards you. “shit,” he gasps, his other hand holding onto your hips. “why are you so wet already?” 

a small whimper leaves you as he fills you up, stretches your walls, as you settle onto his cock. though it feels so good, you squeeze his arms and try not to move. “you weren’t there when i woke up,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to the space between his neck. “so i tried to take care of it myself.”

levi’s eyes flash. “dirty girl.” his voice is deeper, a rumble that you feel in his chest. “couldn’t help but touch yourself to the thought of me when i wasn’t there, hm? but i bet your fingers weren’t enough, were they?” 

you exhale deeply, shaking with the need to move as your walls flutter around him. “levi.” 

“needed my cock inside you instead, didn’t you, love? probably would’ve begged me to fuck you until you were tired enough to fall back asleep.” 

“god, levi, please.” you start, and you shift your hips once. your clit rubs right against him, his long cock settling inside you as a heavy moan almost escapes. instead, you bite down hard on his neck; but levi forces you down even harder on his lap, his eyes relentless. 

“i told you not to move, didn’t i?”

you blink back at him, but his face is serious, hardened lines stretching from each angle of his face. and though you want fuck yourself on his dick, and every atom in your being tells you to do so, you listen to him. somehow, you refrain from shifting your hips again.

sitting still, you bury your face into his neck and heave a great sigh, brushing the delicate skin beneath his jaw. 

“good girl,” levi says flippantly, his long, slender finger grazing up your spine. the simple words alone send a pulse straight through your body, and you whimper against him, your cunt squeezing tighter, wet from the deep intonation of his voice. 

levi says nothing else, but you can feel his smirk as he kisses your temple. he never fails to remind you how precious you are to him, even when he is a bit short with you. and even though he is never the best about telling you how much he loves you, his affections run deep.

he plays with the end of your hair, soothingly, and though you can’t ignore him deep inside you, it almost lulls you back into a peaceful sleep. 

after what feels like hours of subtle torture, you speak again. 

“levi,” you hum against his throat, when he flips another page, signing his name on the dotted line. “i love you so much.” 

his hand stills on your back, fingers tapping once against your spine before resuming. it’s still difficult for him to repeat the words, but you know it’s only out of his fear that you will one day be taken away from him. levi squeezes your hip once more, huffs, and sets the pen down. 

“i’m certain you know how much you mean to me,” levi returns, pulling you away from his neck so that you’re able to face him once again. “you’re supposed to be being quiet.” 

his face is stern, but his eyes are anything but; soft and loving. levi’s cheeks are flushed red, and though he is strong — the strongest — that alone is not enough to combat how he feels when he’s inside you. it brings a small, knowing smile to your face.

“i was being sweet,” you say, sleepily, testing your luck by lifting your hips and settling them once more. the feeling is more intense than you’d expected, and a little moan escapes your mouth, lips parting softly. “i do love you.” 

“i’m certain you’re just trying to butter me up,” levi’s mouth is against your own, the words leaving on a shaky breath, tickling your skin. “so you can get what you want.” 

you laugh, fanning your fingertips against his cheeks. “is it working?”

levi spares you one more hardened expression, tightly drawing his mouth together, before he’s lifting you, shifting you onto the desk, your back pressed against the papers. “unfortunately,” he grunts, kissing all over your face before he threads his fingers with your own. “god. the things you do to me. can’t think straight.” 

he thrusts up into you, hard, and you close your eyes, kissing him, much more slowly than the pace he sets with his hips. levi squeezes your palm tightly, the other roaming across your chest, your stomach, before settling at your hips. “you’re everything to me, you know? my beautiful girl. don’t know what i’d do without you.” 

you smile against his mouth and tug at his hair with your free hand, feeling the soft tendrils between your fingers. it’s ironic, that he thinks you’re beautiful, when you’re certain he’s the most angelic creature you’ve ever seen. “i’m not going anywhere, levi. i promise.” 

levi speeds up, involuntarily, eyes so intense as he watches every subtle change of your expression. but you are too sleepy to do much but breathe into his mouth, soft little moans that have levi thrusting into you twice as hard.

it doesn’t take long for him to coax the first orgasm out of you, and you’re barely able to whisper his name before you clench around him, squeezing the palm that’s still locked within your own.

levi smiles, but it’s snarky, a mix between satisfaction and annoyance. “looks like you got your way after all.” 

you laugh, breathless, kissing across his cheeks as he grows sloppy, chest heaving with the weight of his exhales. though levi wants to pin this all on you, you can tell that he needs to relax too. the past few hours without a moment of sleep, doing nothing but paperwork, have taken a toll on him. 

“must be so hard for you, huh?” you tease, eyelashes fluttering closed as you lean against him, letting your forehead drop to his shoulder. “getting to fuck me on a desk like this. what a chore.” 

“you shouldn’t talk to your captain like that,” levi teases, but he groans out the last few words, cheeks flushed from how close he is. lazily, your fingers run across his chest, and though a second orgasm is steadily building, you want to watch him come apart first.

“perhaps,” you say, smiling as you kiss his chest, your hair tickling the bottom of his jaw. “but i’m not talking to my captain, i’m talking to you, levi.” you lean back up to kiss him, once, again, just the softest brush of your lips. “and i want you to cum inside me.” 

levi’s eyes flash, and you can see the moment that he unravels, the next few seconds where his movements get erratic. then, his features change, plump bottom lip separating from the top one. the look in his eyes grows distant, and his stomach flexes, abs tightening, before the heat of his cum shoots inside of you. 

levi topples onto you, his chest landing on yours as you fall back onto the desk. his cock finally slips out of you.

“shit,” levi says, running his hands along your thighs, sweaty skin sticking to each other. “we’re going to ruin the papers.” 

“who cares,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes before encircling levi’s neck with your arms. “the military police can deal with the mess.”

“you’re disgusting.” 

“they’d probably get off on it, don’t you think? the interior is full of hedonists anyway.”

levi snorts. “maybe. but i prefer not to think about how they spend their free time.”

you laugh again, just a breath of air, and settle against him. levi is warm, his arms are strong, and he smells clean; a mix of soap and the sweet fragrant of citrus. he holds you so gently, despite all of the hardness that lingers in his body. you’ve never known anyone to feel so much like home.

“will you come to bed now?” you ask sleepily. “i don’t want to go to sleep alone.” 

levi softens, and he traces your cheekbone with his thumb, as best he can at the awkward angle. “sure, love. i should get some rest anyway.”