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[littlerequiem]

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 1

> 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, Explicit Content, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Switch Levi (WC: 6.7k)

( Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

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The first time you see Levi, whispered-about-thug and recently-enlisted Scout, you think he doesn’t seem as scary as everyone paints him to be. Sure, he has a hell of a glare, but that’s not the thing that sticks out.

No, what is most striking is the loneliness.

How alone he looks, shadows like bruises under his eyes.

.

.

.

Levi is lost.

He’s not lost in the physical sense, of course.

Levi very well knows where he is. He has repeated these words to doctors so many times he’s starting to sound like a broken record: My name is Levi Ackerman. I come from Paradis Island. I live in Marley.

No, Levi isn't lost physically.

Rather, Levi is lost in the ways often described in novels. Those cheap-thrill books Erwin liked to read so much, the kind that ensured suspense and chest-clutching moments. Usually, it involved a character going on a journey and finding the thing they lost.

“It’s all a metaphor, you see?” Erwin once pointed out.

But Levi did not see the point of metaphors back then, and he certainly doesn’t get it now.

Levi was a soldier for most of his life: so that he could aid the fight against titans, so that Erwin’s vision to help humanity could come true, so that Hange would not be alone in shouldering the weight of it all, so that the world would not crumble under Eren’s actions.

Now, three years after the Battle of Heaven and Earth, his body is changed, and his mind… well, that's the thing that’s lost, isn’t it? He’s still sane, he knows that, but… there's ways he feels himself slipping.

The first two years after the Rumbling were by far the hardest. There was so much to rebuild, so much to do. Levi spent most of his time in makeshift hospitals and infirmary tents. Then, there were the refugee camps. People who had lost everything, who were in search of a new home, but who lacked the means to do so (Levi never thought he’d have to witness the sight of starving children all over again).

And then, one day, a new start.

Onyankopon was the one who discovered Mare a year ago. He told Levi that it would be the perfect place to retire from his soldiering days. "Mare," Onyankopon said, "is the town where sky meets the sea."

Levi isn’t sure what to make of that idiom: there’s no such thing as a place where sky and sea connect. Another metaphor, perhaps—another thing that flies right above his head.

But he decided to take Onyankopon's proposal there and then; Levi had been idle for far too long, and there was still fire in him, a will to push on.

To keep going, just as he had in the past.

A month later, Levi moved into his new home.

His one-story cottage is located by the edge of town, overlooking a cliff that descends into sandy shores. It is far enough from the crowds, just the way Levi likes it, while still remaining close to all necessities—just ten minutes away from Onyankopon's home.

Aside from that, everything else is just… strangely ordinary.

Because Levi now has a roof over his head. He has a garden, where he grows herbs. A patio, where he watches sunsets. He gets money from Marley for his so-called war accomplishments (accomplishments is a strange word for murder, he thinks). He sees doctors, all kind of doctors—specialists that didn't exist back on Paradis.

What keeps him going through it all are his routines. Levi has always been a creature of habit, and that much hasn't changed in his new life.

There’s tea, for one. Despite all the special blends available here in Marley, Levi still prefers the tea he drank back in the Underground, made from cheap black tea leaves—over-extracted, with no added sugar. Piss water, Kenny used to call it, and maybe the old geezer had a point. The tea is bitter to its core, much too strong for anyone to stomach (“I’m going to be on the shitter for days after this,” Hange once declared after trying it.). And yet, Levi likes it this way. 

There’s his knife, the one Kenny gave him decades ago. Levi still keeps it in his boot or tucked under his pillow. He doesn’t hold it out of sentimentality per say; Levi just doesn’t see the point of throwing it away.

Levi sees his doctor on a weekly-basis, and works part-time at the local carpentry shop. He tries to improve his body on a daily basis, even if his mind fights him hard against it. His leg hurts most days; it’s at its worst when it rains. Over the last year, he’s regained some of his mobility, enough that he can sometimes walk using a cane when his legs aren't too stiff, though most days, he uses a wheelchair. It frustrates him, sometimes, his reduced range of mobility—he misses pushing his body to the limit—but the physiotherapist ensures him that he is just where he needs to be. He feels coddled, and that annoys him.

Then, there are the people in his life. Scarce as they are, they are all that is left of his past and Levi clings onto scraps of conversation where he can find them.

Most of the brats of the 104th are living their own lives. Levi is relieved to see that. When the war ended, he worried that they would linger too much, but they never did. They moved on.

Falco and Gabi, rowdy kids they are, travel from Liberio to see him. They tell him about what they’ve been up to, how Falco is taking flying lessons, how Gabi is part of a youth association that’s going to make Marley a better place, and Levi listens. For Gabi and Flaco love to talk, and perhaps even more than that, they love to bicker. Levi thinks if there’s such a thing as religion, that these gods clearly have a strange sense of humor—making him watch teenagers and their clumsy flirting attempts all over again. But they’re good kids, and Levi looks past their worse transgressions because he knows he’s got a soft spot for them.

Onyankopon is another familiar face—a talkative one at that. Every time the man stops by Levi's house, he brings something new to show Levi. Sometimes, it feels like Onyankopon's on a personal mission to get Levi up to speed with the new world. Coffee, typewriters, vinyl players… there doesn’t seem to be a thing Onyankopon doesn’t want to show him.

All these machines are met with a somewhat lukewarm reception on Levi’s part.

All except one.

Because if there's one invention Levi is inclined to think is useful, even if a part of him equally loathes it, it's the telephone. Onyankopon was ecstatic about it, and his enthusiasm eventually rubbed off on him too. It's not that Levi likes to use it—the sound waves, the grated voices… they remind him of the sound of planes and machines, of war and guns, and that gets his heart palpating to the point where he sweats (because Levi’s learned that with his growing age, his body sweats faster than ever before, so much so that Levi sometimes has to wash twice a day).

But the first time Levi hears a familiar sound—your voice—on the receiving end of the telephone, his breath stops. His clammy fingers tighten around the phone, and he glances at Onyankopon, who only gives him a thumbs up in response, two dimples appearing on his lifted cheeks.

Levi decides then that the telephone might not be so bad after all.

“Levi,” your distorted voice sounds from the other side. “Can you hear me?”

At first, Levi doesn’t know what to say. He’s seen phones, of course; he remembers Hange using them to communicate with Zeke and the Azumito clan. But he never thought he’d use them personally, and that makes his brain go blank.

“Shit, I think I lost you,” you say, the sound of crumbled papers resonating across the line, “Jean, I think the tele-thing you gave me isn’t working properly. Can you—”

“Hey.” Levi’s voice bleeds into the machine, rough like sandpaper. “I can hear you.”

“Oh, good, I thought I wasn’t using this correctly. Gee, isn’t this just unbelievable? Onyankopon promised me he’d work to set up a phone line in your house, I’m so glad it worked! I know these things are costly but, you know, at least we get to talk, even if it’s brief. Of course, I’ll still write you letters on top of that! And hey—Levi, are you still with me?”

He almost smiles. “Yeah, dumbass. You’re the one going on a monologue.”

“I’m just excited! Can you blame me? I haven’t heard your voice in… a long time.”

Levi’s heart jolts in his chest, clinging to the fact that you’re excited to hear him, but mourning the time passed since he last heard your voice. He’s all aware of how long it’s been (347 days, by his account).

“I can’t wait to see you next month,” you add in a lower voice, as if you were trying to whisper into the phone, words only meant for him to hear. It makes them all the more precious. “I’ve… missed you, 'Vi.”

Levi’s throat feels thick at he hears your familiar nickname for him. His mind buzzes with words, words he has long thought about, words he wishes he could tell you.

I’ve missed you too. I want to see you again. Please come back to me.

All things he thinks to himself, but doesn’t say out loud.

Instead, he manages a breathy, “Yeah,” because more feels impossible right now, especially with Onkyankopon so close by.

Besides, he wouldn’t want you to hear those words over a machine. Communication tool or not, it still lacks the physicality Levi desires so badly.

“How are the brats doing?” Levi asks instead.

“Oh, they’re good! Armin cut his hair recently. He looks like a blonde mini-you or err… I suppose he’s taller than you now.” If you were standing by his side, Levi would definitely have glared at you. But you chuckle, oblivious to his souring mood. “Guess he always did admire you a lot; I think he’s learned a thing or two from your leadership style.”

“That so?”

“Yeah, he’s cool. Doesn’t glare at everything that moves like you, though.”

Levi clicks his tongue. “Still haven’t lost your shitty sense of humor, I see.”

“Hey, you always found me funny.”

“I never laughed.”

“But you always found me funny—I could always tell.”

“Delusional thinking can get you a long way.”

“Anyway.” You huff with an indignant tone. “Aside from that, Reiner and Connie have changed a lot too! Reiner is still pining over Historia…”

“Disgusting. She’s a married woman.”

“Yeah… weird, right? I keep telling him to move on, he’s got so much going for him now. But he’s hopeless like that, they all are. Besides that… well, Jean grew his hair! Think he’s secretly trying to impress someone. He’s applying pomade and everything.”

He hears the sound of muffled protest, “I am not, Doc,” blending with your sentence. It is followed by your hearty laugh as you seemingly tell Jean to bugger off.

“That aside, they’re all good. Growing into real adults, you know? It feels like yesterday I was doing their first medical checks... just stupid teenagers. Your old Levi squad, huh?”

The second Levi squad, he wants to correct.

“Yeah, sounds like they’re still a real handful,” Levi mutters.

You chuckle. A comfortable silence follows, one that reminds of old times—you and him sitting in front of the fireplace; him reading his reports, you drawing. The cracking of the phone lines almost sounds like splitting logs now, and Levi feels warmth spread from his lower belly to his torso.

He hears your breath through the phone, like you were leaning closer. “Hey, so… less than a month, yeah? You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I told you already, didn’t I?”

“Because if it’s too much, you can still say no.”

“Adler, I promised I’d take care of you all, and that’s gonna be the case until I’m buried below ground.”

“Don’t speak like that, Levi! It’s morbid.” Levi hears the sound of your laughter again, ringing across the phone line. He wonders if your eyelids are crinkling, the way they always do when you laugh too loudly. “But, hey, thanks. I really appreciate your help, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“I wonder what it is like, your new life.”

“S’nothing special.”

“Sounds to me like you’re still selling yourself short.”

“And sounds like you’re still talking nonsense.”

After a year of not seeing each other, you are finally coming back to Marley.

You are finally coming back to him.

Levi wonders what you will think of all the ways he’s lost.

.

.

.

Section Commander Erwin Smith seeks you out in the infirmary. Says there’s a wound he wants you to check, one he supposedly got during the last expedition.

You don’t tell him that titans don't usually cause hand wounds.

“I have the new recruit’s file here. You might have seen him around. His name is Levi,” Erwin says after some time. You give him a succinct nod. “I’d like for you to keep an eye on him.”

You pause, eyes shifting away from your stitches. Erwin’s gaze is even, clear.

“What do you mean by that, sir?”

Erwin leans back in his chair. “Presently, Levi is flighty and hot-headed. He’s just lost his friends. And he refuses to get a medical check. As it stands, this won’t work—I need to know that his condition is stable to place him on my squad.”

“With all due respect, most of these duties you’ve listed fall outside my medical jurisdiction.”

“I know.”

You raise a brow. Erwin shoots you an eyeless smile. You finish the stitch. Erwin pulls his hand back, admiring your work, then his focus shifts back onto you.

Waiting on your answer.

You finally supply him with one, sighing, “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

Erwin stands, interlinking his arms behind his back. “I should tell you he’s from the Underground. Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir." You stand up as well. "Though… knowing this, permission to speak my mind?”

“Please.”

“May I ask what’s so… special about him? If rumors are to be believed, you went through quite the trouble to get him.”

“I didn’t think you listened to gossip, Dr Adler.”

“I don’t. But if that wound on your hand speaks for the labors of your efforts… well, I think I have cause to worry.”

A low hum vibrates out of him. “What’s so special about Levi, you ask?” Something lights up across Erwin’s face. The intensity of the pendulum swinging his way. It is followed by the type of smile that makes his eyes crinkle. “I want to believe Levi can change the fate of humanity.”

.

.

.

Today is the day.

The morning shines brightly over the little town of Mare, an endless cerulean that speaks of summer and new beginnings. The sun peaks over the horizon, lingering where the sky meets the sea, a ripple of lavender and peach glimmering over the reflection of the water.

At this time of the day, the wind is at its strongest, a breeze that blows the long strands of grass to one side. Beyond the valleys, there's footsteps dotted across white beaches, only to be ushered out of existence as the waves rolls in.

Mare. Home.

This little town was nothing but fire and dust three years ago. Today, everything has changed. Houses have been rebuilt, trees replanted, and life has begun sprouting again.

Levi wonders what you will make of it.

He spent the first hours of the day cleaning his one-story house from floor to ceiling—a painful undertaking for him, nowadays. The cleaning material stings his bad eye; the positions he has to adopt to clean makes his leg hurt.

But cleaning has always helped to ground him, and that much hasn’t changed here.

Luckily, he wasn't alone in his task.

“Yo, Levi! You ready?” Onyankopon calls out. The man came early to help Levi get the house ready; he’s now come to drive Levi to the train station.

“Yeah.”

Levi grabs his favorite cane, an elegant stick made of thick wood from up north. For the occasion, he’s wearing his nicest navy suit, silver cuff-links, and a matching hat—a gift from you, something you bought him the day the Survey Corps first set foot in Marley. You thought it suited him and Levi’s inclined to agree: he doesn’t look half-bad.

The drive to the train station is uneventful and quiet. Onyankopon asks him if he is nervous, which Levi vehemently denies. His friend just smiles after that with a knowing look like he knows better, but beyond that, he leaves Levi space to gather his thoughts.

Levi is glad of that. He needs the silence to gather his thoughts.

After a year of not seeing each other, he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely.

Will you be happy to see him?

It’s ridiculous, really, all this uncertainty. In all his years as a captain, Levi never stopped to linger on hesitations, on regrets. No matter what it was—grief, rough expeditions, political coups—he trusted Erwin; he trusted his comrades. Levi trusted himself.

That it would be you, now of all times, who makes him this nervous, seems a strange twist of fate. Perhaps it is his growing age that has turned him into a sentimental fool, perhaps it is the knowledge that it is you, perhaps it’s because Levi doesn’t quite know what to do with himself... but Levi feels restless.

It took Levi by surprise, your letter. Three months ago to the day. Can I stay with you, Levi? you'd written. Just for a little while, until I figure out what it is I want to do next.

You were gone for a year, helping the Alliance become delegates of peace, while still updating Levi on everything. Now, Armin and the rest are ambassadors, and Levi no longer needs you letters—he gets to read all about their exploits in the newspaper.

And yet, he's glad you never stopped writing to him. Levi will never admit it, but he’s kept every single one of your letters in a box under his bed.

Yeah, old age has turned him into a real sap.

Following all of this, it was decided: of course you could stay with him. Yes, he would help you. When it came to you, there was little Levi wasn’t prepared to do.

With Falco’s and Gabi’s help, Levi made sure everything was well-suited for your arrival. He purchased a bed, a night table, and a wardrobe. He built you a desk, with the help of his boss at work. All of it was arranged into the spare bedroom of his house.

Levi remembers Gabi teasing him. “Is she your sweetheart, Mr Levi?”

Levi scowled at the teenager. “No.”

“S’just, it’s an awful lot for an old comrade.”

“Shut up, nosy kid.”

But Gabi raised a point. What were you to him, exactly?

Levi doesn’t know the answer to that question, not exactly. He considers all the people he’s cared about in his life, and he still falls short in finding the right word to describe what you are. He cares for you, that much he knows—he’s cared for you for a long time. It isn’t the same care that he feels when he thinks of his mother, of Isabel, of Furlan, but it’s just as deep. Love, some might call it, but Levi has seldom witnessed it, so he doesn’t know what to make of his feelings.

He supposes if he had to label what the two of you are, it’s connected. Remnants of an old system, a memory of a past when all that mattered was reclaiming the Walls. Two survivors who carry the legacy of those who sacrificed themselves for the cause.

Not that defining it truly matters. Levi’s long accepted his role as the one to carry the torch. He has found stability and peace this way.

Only, Levi wants more for you. Even if it means being far away from him.

Yes, it will have to mean being far from him, won’t it? He’s too broken for it to be any other way. He knows that. And yet, it doesn’t stop that tiny wisp of something he sometimes feels in his heart at the thought of you—like air, it fills his lungs, begging to be ignited (if you would choose him, he thinks it might).

But Levi’s life was always that of water, and he knows he will drown you if you come too close, like everyone else he has cared about.

.

.

.

You glance at the injury on his forearm, gushing red. Those damn cadets, ganging up on the new recruit. Erwin’s gamble won’t pay off if everyone else is hostile to his new prodigy.

“Hey. It’s Levi, right?”

Levi’s gaze flickers to yours and you realize it's the first time you're up to close to him. His eyes are striking. Freezing gray, like pale moonlight.

“Who the hell are you?” he mutters with a deep baritone.

You give him your full name. “But I actually prefer to be called by my last name, Adler, if you don't mind.” His face stays blank. You sigh. “Listen, Levi, I don’t want to butt into your private affairs... But I just came to tell you this: any injuries you sustain, just come to me, alright? I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night, or if you have to drag yourself across snow. Because... the only death I accept from a Survey Corps soldier is that of titans. Anything else is unacceptable. Okay?”

"Please. Those cowards were outclassed. They only landed a hit 'cause they played dirty."

"Even so. Don't let that deter you from seeking help," you say. "That said, you have my word.  Those cadets will be punished for what they did to you."

“Yeah, whatever.” Levi glances at your hands for some reason— transfixed by the way you press on his wound with a clean cloth. “So, what, you’re a doctor? You heal people?”

Your lips tug into a half-smile. “I certainly try.”

.

.

.

The train groans as it comes to a stop. Levi knows you dislike trains; even on Paradis, when Hizuru helped to install train tracks across the island, you had blanched at the idea of riding in one.

So Levi isn’t too surprised to see you step out of the train carriage on wobbly feet, your face a little grayer than he remembers it to be. He takes a step forward, walking into the smoke hissing from the train, avoiding the throngs of travelers passing by. He removes his hat, just to make it easier for you to recognize him.

As soon as you do, your expression lifts.

That smile.

Levi could see your smile for the rest of his life and never tire of it. He hasn’t seen it in a long time, and it tugs at his heart, like a bird flapping its wings.

That you choose to run towards him—your travel bag swinging against your hip, arms dangling by your sides—is no great surprise. If there is something he knows about you, it is your never ending supply of excitement. It makes him want to smile back, but his mouth slightly parts instead.

“Levi,” is the first word that greets him, that swirls through the air and fills his lungs. You seem to catch yourself just a breath away from him, rooted to the spot in front of him. Levi blinks, wondering if you were about to hug him. But then you dip your head down, coy amusement on your features. “It’s really you.”

Levi swallows loudly. He can hear his heartbeat climbing to his head, and he wonders if you somehow can hear it too.

“Your hair has grown.”

Oh, that.

Yes, his hair has grown, hasn’t it? In the last month, he’s only kept up his undercut; the top is getting longer now. He knows he should get a haircut, but he's experimenting letting it grow.

“It looks good… it suits you,” you tell him.

The coil in Levi’s stomach tightens. He shields his expression by tilting his head and placing his hat back on his head. 

“Hey, um…” you let your voice trail off.

“Just spit it out, Adler.”

His peripheral catches a crooked smile. “Would it be alright if…if I hugged you?”

Oh.

That certainly isn’t what Levi expected you to ask. No, Levi feared there might be something wrong with you, or rather with him. But he didn't expect… that.

In his stupor, Levi is too stunned to say anything, so he manages a nod instead.

(He’s grateful you ask before you touch him—you always ask.)

And unlike your earlier display of excitement, full of frenetic energy, your hands treat him with more care. They interlace gently around his back. Levi feels his chest lock as your fragrance sweeps across his brain. The scent can only be described as one thing... Home. Levi grows stiff, not knowing what to do with his hands, so he just lets them dangle along his body. You stay put just for a few seconds longer, and when you break apart, there’s something akin to relief on your face.

Relief for what, he doesn't know.

Your hands linger on his forearms as you take the sight of him fully in like you were committing him to memory. “Just needed to do that. My brain can’t make sense of the fact that you’re really standing in front of me. Like you’re not a figment of my imagination, you know?”

Levi’s gut reaction is to glance down. He doesn’t want to see all the ways you inspect him, all the ways he falls short of the portrait you have of him.

His face hardens and he takes a step back, sheltering himself from disappointment.

“C’mon,” he mutters. “We’ve been standing here long enough.”

“Alright,” you answer in a tone that’s no less bubbly than before. “Show me home.”

As you walk in tandem, away from the train tracks, Onyankopon comes to greet you. He envelops you into a hug where he lifts you off your feet. You chuckle, patting his shoulders, and when Onyankopon’s eyes find Levi’s, there’s a glint in them that Levi swears is speaking volumes of Onyankopon’s thoughts.

A look that seems to indicate: Should’ve kissed her, you damn fool.

Levi promptly ignores that look. Instead, he sets his glare in an altogether different direction.

The walk back towards the car is painful and slow. Levi tries not to let it show, but coming with his cane instead of his wheelchair really was not his brightest idea. He grits his teeth, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation shooting up in his leg; his knuckles turn white the more he leans on his cane.

You take notice.

“Is your leg hurting?” he hears you ask.

Levi dismisses your concern with a one shoulder shrug. “S’fine.”

It’s not fine. Levi overexerted himself with cleaning today. The sun is too strong. His leg is stiff.

Despite that, Levi has no intentions of telling you all about that, because you have a tendency to care, to shower him with attention he doesn’t want, and right now, he just can’t deal with it.

You stop right in front of him. “Hey, are you sure? I can—”

“I said it's fine, didn't I?”

Levi's ears are ringing as he steps past you.

Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t mean to snap at you just now. He’s just no good at this, don’t you see? Already five minutes in, and he feels like he fucked up.

(It's like there's poison on his skin; Levi wants to peel it off.)

But you don’t even seem to pay his temper any mind, as you hum and turn to look at the train station’s newsstand instead, allowing Levi to swallow his shame. From the corner of his eyes, he watches as you purchase three lemonade bottles, which you hand out to them.

The drive back is filled with more words than the journey here. Onyankopon and you engage in easy conversation, talking about all manners of things—how the 104th brats are doing, how the world is looking three years after everything that transpired, how Onyankopon’s husband and family are faring.

Levi sits in the passenger seat next to Onyankopon while you sit in the rear. That doesn’t stop you from leaning forward, your hands resting on the head of the seats as you talk (“Put your seat belt on, Adler.” “It’s on!”). Occasionally, your fingers even tap his left shoulder, a heads up for you to point to interesting things you notice outside. Levi tries to ignore the sparking sensation that’s engraved in his skin.

(Sometimes, Levi wonders if your touch is actually electric.)

“What about you, Levi?” Levi feels your attention settle on the back of his head, drilling heat into his nape. “What do you make of your new home? Mare, the town where the sky meets the sea.”

“It’s fine,” he replies. And he means it—the town is just that. Fine. “The townsfolk are nosy, you’ll fit right in.”

You hum. “Consider my interest piqued. I can’t wait to see your new life.”

New life. Is it really?

“I’ve never started over. Not like this,” you continue, tone thoughtful now. “I mean, I suppose I did, once. The last time was when I first enlisted for the Survey Corps a decade ago… phew, that brings back memories. I remember the looks I got from everyone then—they all thought me very strange to enroll.”

“That’s because you were a suicidal maniac, enrolling to save the lives of soldiers who’d soon be titan fodder. Normal civilians usually have safer aspirations, Adler.”

“I’m not sure if you’re one to talk, Ackerman.”

Levi huffs at that. The portrait that flashes through his mind is vivid, as were the words that went alongside them: Him, the gangster from the Underground and you, the crazy doctor crazy. A pair of strange misfits, the Survey Corps' gamble.

Now, you are the only survivors of something long gone.

“Oh, Walls!” You’re gasping at something behind him, and Levi glances up to see what you’ve seen. It’s the sea—all shades of blue and as mesmerizing as ever. “This is where you’ve been living? Your descriptions in your letters do not do this place justice.”

“What? You expected me to turn into a poet?” Levi grumbles.

“No, but look at this—ugh! It’s everything. The valleys! The beaches! The bay! This feels just like…” you let your voice trail off, not finishing off your words, but Levi knows what you meant to say.

This feels just like the way it was when we first saw the sea.

And yeah, Levi sees your point. The sea here truly does glimmer like jewels, the way Armin always described it, and the breeze does carry that scent of salt that feels like it’s cleaning the air out of his lungs.

Just like it felt to witness it the first time.

“This must be what paradise looks like,” you say.

And just as they pass a curve of the road, something new comes into view: between the soft clouds, a flying boat appears—not one carrying weapons, but instead, carrying with it the tale of a youth whose only sin was a passion for flying.

.

.

.

The medical check is done in silence.

Levi is underweight. His lack of sun exposure has left his skin and eyesight sensitive. You prescribe things to help, though you think some ailments might be a lifelong battle.

When it comes to checking his heart rate, however, that’s when you realize the full extent of Levi’s upbringing. Levi undoes his shirt and your eyes take in the cost of his survival—Levi’s torso, marred with scars. Some of them seem recent, while others are old, stretched-out skin that tells you enough.

These come straight from his childhood.

Just how much violence has Levi witnessed in a single lifetime?

.

.

.

“So?” Levi asks, looking directly at you. He leans his weight against the door’s frame leading to your bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can redecorate if you like.”

“Why would I do that? This is perfect.”

Levi thinks you might be touched, but he isn’t sure—he was never good at reading your more subdued emotions. Anger, sadness, happiness: those, he can read. Everything in between becomes more complicated, especially with his mind trying hard to convince him that all you see is disgust when you look at him.

You continue to step around the furniture of your bedroom, inspecting it like you are discovering details of a new kingdom. Your fingers fumble over the bed frame. “These bed sheets are my favorite color.”

Levi knows. He picked them for a reason.

(He’ll never tell you as much.)

“There’s drawing supplies in the desk drawers,” he supplies.

He hears it then, the way you suck-in your breath, catching it in the back of your throat. He swerves his attention onto you, only to find you fixing the desk with a stupefied expression.

“You remembered?”

There’s bewilderment in your tone.

Why do you seem surprised? Isn’t this the least you deserve? Levi almost says that there is even more—that he has all your sketchbooks from Paradis, that they were recently delivered by his request. But he abstains from it. He thinks it might be too much right now, though whether it’s too much for him or for you, he’s not sure.

Instead, he just replies gruffly, “It was hard to forget.”

You take a step towards him, eyes softening. “Levi, thank you so much.” You gesture at the room. “For all of it.”

Somehow, those words make Levi want to look away. It isn’t that he doesn’t appreciate you expressing your gratitude, but he’s never known what to do with it served on a silver platter. He prefers to ignore it when he can.

“S’not a big deal.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, glancing towards the carpet on the floor. “Couldn’t let you starve on the streets, now, could I?”

“Hah. I don’t know.” You move to the windows, your fingers winding around the beige curtains. Levi wonders what you think of the softness of the material. “You might be underestimating me. I can be very persuasive; I’m sure I’d manage to survive out there.”

“Please. You wouldn’t last a day out there.”

You scoff, feigning offense. “And why not?”

“You’d want to help some poor fucker giving you puppy eyes, and they’d just end up mugging you.” Or worse.

“Well, alright. You got me there.” You glance away, raising your fingers to run along the scar on your cheek.

Levi follows your movements, studying the way your hands conceal your old injury. He wonders if it still hurts, if you forget it is there only to be reminded of its existence when you catch your reflection in the mirror.

It happens to him, sometimes.

“Seriously, thank you.”

The softness of your tone cradles his ears. Levi takes a step back.

“No need to get emotional on me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle. “Still. Sometimes, it’s good to say things out loud.”

“If you say so.”

Levi turns around, fumbling with the handle of the door to swing it open.

But just as he’s about to head out, to leave you to unpack, there's a clear sound comes from the other side. Levi hears that familiar "Meow," before he sees the tabby cat sliding in between the cracks of the door.

“Oh... what's this?” he hears you stutter behind him. 

Right. Levi probably should have mentioned this minor detail in his letters.

“Scout,” he supplies, eying the kitten currently rubbing her head against his right leg, a loud prrr vibrating against his calve. Three months ago, the cat was nothing more than skin and bones. Like a rat. Now, she’s healthy again, her limbs growing quicker than Levi anticipated.

“You… you got a cat?”

"Clearly."

"Like a pet?"

Levi crosses his arms over his chest, tapping a rhythmic beat of five counts against his forearm. “Do you need to get your eyes checked or what?”

You ignore his surly attitude, the same bafflement still present in your tone. “And you named him Scout?”

“Her. She's a female cat.”

You look down at the cat for a moment, your eyes wide like saucers. Then, with a low, hushed tone, you let out a strangled, “Walls, you're a cat dad,” before pinching your lips tightly, like you were trying very hard not to burst out in fits of giggles.

Levi’s jaw instantly clenches. “Stop laughing.”

“I wasn’t laughing!”

“You were about to.”

“Yeah, alright, I was about to.” And then, as if saying those words out loud gave you the right to do as you please, you stifle out a snort, shooting up a hand to cover your half-contained laughter.

This time, Levi doesn’t bother hiding his glare.

Paying this interaction no mind, Scout looks at you with a quizzical stare, her big, green eyes taking you in. Just like you, the feline creature is now discovering the new room and the furniture that goes with it, and she now seems to want to understand what to make of the new occupant that is to share this space.

And so, with a last parting mrrp, the cat skitters towards you, her fast steps tiptoeing against the oaken floor. In response, you crouch down, outstretching a delicate hand in Scout's direction.

With a combination of grace and suspicion that only cats are really able to muster, Scout sniffs your fingers, her slit pupils observing your every movement.

Whatever she was looking for must have pleased her, because not a moment later, she lets out a high-pitched mewling sound and rubs her cheeks against your digits.

A smile forms on your lips.

And when you look back up, there’s a sparkle in your eyes that makes Levi’s heart skip a beat. "Oh, she's cute," you coo, scratching Scout's chin. "How old is she?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't ask?"

"I don't speak cat, Adler."

"Oh, right. She didn't have an owner?"

"No. She was alone when I found her."

"Oh."

Levi had found the kitten half-dead under some debris; no one in town knew where she had come from, or how old she was. Most likely, her mother had abandoned her, but it was hard to know for sure.

All he knew is that the kitten had been alone, and that was enough for him to want to help the kitten. Taking her in was only meant to be temporary thing.

And yet, here she still was.

"Well," you interrupt his thoughts, head tilting as you inspect Scout, "I reckon she can't be more than four months old."

Levi lets out a grunting sound, not really knowing enough about cats to refute or agree with your observations. Instead, he half-turns away, grumbling parting words, “I’m gonna make us some tea while you unpack.”

His peripheral catches your hand gently gliding along the cat’s spine. “Your bitter old tea, huh?”

He means to ask if you’d prefer something else, but it comes out all wrong: “Got a problem with that?”

Shit.

Your eyes lock with his.

And your smile widens.

“Not at all. It just feels like being home.”

Levi clears his throat and turns away. Home. Is it really like that?

No, of course, it’s not.

Home doesn’t exist anymore.

And he’s not the same man you once knew.

-

A/N: This story has been in the works for the last year, and it's been a very precious project for me. This fic seeks to shed some light on Levi's life after the war, with its ups and down - but ultimately, it's a story of love and healing <3 Furthermore, English isn't my mother tongue, so you know the spiel - don't hesitate to let me know if you spot mistakes, but pls be patient!

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

[b1mbodoll]

pairings: yang jungwon x f! reader

warnings: hybrids + barbed cock + noncon + babytrapping + creampies + breeding + cervix fucking + pregnancy + biting

kitty hybrid! jungwon is so clingy :( he cant help it, needs to be around you all the time n mewls when you deny his cock attention.

when he smells you ovulating he bides his time til you finally fall asleep n slips his dick inside your wet cunt. his barbed cock hurts so good n it wakes you up.

“wonie? what are you —ah — doing?” your kittyboy drops his head on your shoulder n sighs, “please let me fuck you.”

you try to find the nerve to make him stop but you can’t, not when it feels so good. “mkay wonie but you have to pull out.”

he whines in response, “‘m serious! don’t cum inside.” jungwon doesnt reply and you think it’s cus he’s so fucked out n just let him continue his movements.

he’s so close and can’t resist cumming inside, sinks his teeth deep in your neck n it makes you go limp, unable to push him away and the feeling of his load shooting directly into your womb combined with the pain from his bite makes your pussy clench n it’s not long before you reach your own orgasm.

“feels so good, wanna cum in you again,” he purrs, “will let me fill you up, sweetheart? wanna get you pregnant”

you’re too cockdrunk to focus on his words and he takes advantage of your failure to reply. “shouldn’t have even asked ‘s not like i was gonna stop if you said no, baby.”

you can hear the smirk on his face as he continues to plow into you, cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust. his only mission is to breed you properly n knock you up <3

[chosok-amo]

ENEMIES WITH BENEFITS? : SUGURU GETO

college! suguru g. raw. cheating. enemies with benefits.

suguru is your charismatic but annoying enemy. you hate him. he hates you. end of story...right?

part one : here

you walked into the shared bedroom in college and were shocked, to say the least when you saw suguru leaning on the bedrest with his arms above his head reading a book. he then looked at you with a wide smirk which he doesn't hide playing at his lips.

“welcome home, love...”

suguru, your enemies since you were in high school. your nightmare, your everything-bad. lucky for you, you got a chance to be his roommate for who-knows-how-long, so exciting.

you groaned in annoyance the moment the suguru's figure was captured by your pupils. rolled your eyes and slammed the door shut you decided to ignore suguru's presence and take a walk to your bed. throwing your bag on the floor before flopping your tired body on your bed, face first.

he chuckled as you walked into the room, enjoying your reaction before he spoke up, his smirk growing wider with every passing second, “oh come on now, is that the way you greet your dear roommate?” he teased, placing the book down in his lap and turning his body to look at you.

he observed the way you carelessly threw your stuff down on the ground before you flopped onto your bed, an amused huff escaping his lips, “and here I thought you'd be happy to see me,” he added, a hint of sarcasm laced in his voice.

he closed his book and moved over to your bed, standing by the bed as he was towering over you, watching you lay face down with a satisfied look. you turn around to your back and his handsome face is adorned with a smirk. “fuck off, geto,” you grumble, not really in the mood for his bullshit.

as you rolled over onto your back, grumbling a sarcastic reply, suguru's smirk widened even more at your irritation. he leaned his body down without moving an inch from your side of the bed, bracing one hand on the bed beside your head, his body now hovering over yours. “Ah, is that any way to talk to me, love?” he teased, the nickname rolling off his tongue almost mockingly.

suguru moves his free hand to caress your cheek, his fingers lightly tracing the contours of your face. “you know you can't resist me for long,” he murmured, his voice low and smug. suguru leaned forward even further, his face now just inches away from yours.

the proximity between you causes your pulse to quicken, and your heart beat erratically in your chest. he's so close that you can feel his warm breath against your skin, and the way his fingers brush your cheek is sending shivers down your spine.

he keeps his gaze fixated on yours, his smirk growing wider as he revels in your obvious discomfort. “you know, I love seeing you all worked up like this,” he murmured a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I hate you,” you whisper under your breath.

suguru chuckled at your retort, clearly unfazed by your anger. “Oh, I know you do, the feelings are mutual anyway,” he replied, his smirk never fading. he moves his hand from your face to your hair, running his fingers through the strands and lightly tugging at them. “but that's part of the fun, isn't it? the way you get so riled up whenever I'm around.”

your eyes trembled with anger simmering beneath your skin, but also with the overwhelming longing you felt for the boy—it was intoxicating. as you glared into his striking purple eyes, your gaze was filled with resentment.

however, the intensity of your stare betrayed you, lingering on his lips with a desire you couldn't hide. despite the fury coursing through you, the attraction you felt was undeniable, creating a tumultuous mix of emotions that left you conflicted and vulnerable.

you've despised each other for as long as you can remember, constantly clashing and exchanging harsh words whenever you meet— both of you hate each other so much, always bark and bite whenever you see each other.

however, there's an undeniable and unfamiliar tension between you both. can't keep hands to each other when nobody's around. and one thing about suguru geto that when the two of you are having sex, he treats you like you're the love of his life. whispering to you all those sweet nothing, touch you like you're the most delicate and precious flowers he's ever laid his eyes on. and it's driving you insane.

suguru was well aware of the inner turmoil you were experiencing, your conflicted feelings obvious to him. he could see the anger burning in your eyes, but he could also sense the undeniable attraction that lingered beneath your gaze. he noticed the way your eyes lingered on his lips, betraying your true desires despite your anger. his smirk grew wider, his own eyes glittering with a mix of arrogance and desire. leaning even closer, his voice dropped to a husky whisper, “what is it, y/n?”

his hand slowly creeping to the back of your head while the other hand supports his body— towering over you beside your bed. his hand pushes your head forward to close the distance between your lips and his, tilting his head slightly. the action makes you push your body up and support with your elbows.

“kiss me,” you breathe out, fanning his lips.

your lips faintly touch his when you speak, electrocute your body. suguru's smirk turned into a cocky grin, pleased that he'd finally broken down your defenses. he felt a surge of satisfaction as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your faces now just centimetres apart.

he can feel your warm breath on his lips as you breathe the command, sending a shiver down his spine. his smirk softened, replaced with a look of pure lust. “as you wish,” he murmured, before bridged the short distance between your mouths, bringing his lips to yours in a firm, hungry kiss.

the moment his lips touched yours, any remaining resistance you had dissolved, replaced with a desire that took over your mind and body.

the kiss was fierce and passionate, both of you pouring everything you had into it. suguru deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips in a fluid, almost fluid motion. he explored your mouth, tasting you fully and thoroughly.

right the moment you start to pull him down he broke the kiss and looked at you moment, “go take a shower, y/n, you're stink,” he whispered, smiling brightly before pulling himself away walk to his bed, leaving you dumbfounded with your hand in the air.

your mind was hazy, consumed with pure desire and the heat of the moment. the kiss was intense, passionate, and filled with an electricity that left you breathless. his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting every inch of it. you were lost in the sensation, in him.

but the moment your hand reaches out to pull him down, he suddenly broke the kiss and leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. you were left momentarily dazed, your hand still suspended in the air. then, his words register in your mind. “you're stink?” you repeated incredulously.

you whip your head towards suguru, feeling the burning hatred for him surge back, fueling your desire to despise him with a passion. meanwhile, he simply smiles sweetly and returns to his original position—sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard with a book in his hands, refusing to acknowledge your presence.

suguru didn't have to look at you to know your anger flared, fueled by his heartless smile. he knew exactly which buttons to press, how to get under your skin like no one else could. relishing in the storm of emotions he was stirring within you.

watching you stand up and glare at him from the corner of his eyes, he braced himself as you flung a pillow at him. as the pillow hits his chest, he laughs heartily, easily catching it in his hands. he revels in the sight of your infuriated face, the way your shoulders and eyes tremble with rage. he can practically feel the hatred radiating off of you.

then, you're stomping your feet like a child and marching towards the bathroom, your exit accompanied by a venomous “I hate you!” His smirk widens even more. he could still hear you muttering curses about hating him under your breath when you're inside the bathroom.

thirty minutes later, you walk out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around your body. the water from shower glistening on your skin. he couldn't help but whistle appreciatively, but you deliberately ignored him, your anger still boiling beneath the surface.

he can smell the alluring fragrance of your shampoo, a blend of fresh blossoms and sweet fruit, mingling with the warm, soothing aroma of your soap, reminiscent of vanilla and honey. the scents swirl together, filling his senses with a heady, intoxicating aroma that lingers in the air. his purple eyes follow you as you walk to the vanity, which is not far between your bed and his. you sit down and take out the hairdryer to dry your hair.

he can't help but be drawn to your form, admiring your curves, the way the towel clings to your skin, the way your hair drapes over your shoulders.

but he has to stay focused.

he continues pretending to read his book, but his eyes keep sneaking glances in your direction, watching you carefully as you use the hairdryer on your hair.

suguru chuckled as he watched you grumble and complain under your breath about the tedious task of drying your hair. he knew you found it exhausting and time-consuming, but he also knew that he couldn't simply sit back and do nothing while you struggle. suguru could sense the irritation radiating from you, and he knew that you weren't in the mood for his help. but he couldn't help but smile at your stubbornness.

he put his book aside, “need help?”

“no,” you snap back immediately, still mad at him. but deep inside, you knew that drying your hair was a hassle, and his offer was actually quite appealing. however, you refused to give in easily, trying to keep up your grumpy demeanor.

suguru chuckles as he stands behind you, watching your angry expression in the vanity mirror. he knows you're still angry with him but he can't help but find it cute how you pouts even when you're furious. “come on, y/n, let me do it. I won't bite,” he teased playfully.

he runs his fingers through your hair gently, assessing the wet locks, before picking up the hairdryer from your hand. “fine,” you reluctantly respond after several moments. “but I'm not speaking to you,” you add defiantly.

suguru smirked, pleased that he had finally broken down your stubbornness. “you're such a tough one,” he teased, gently drying your hair.

suguru's fingers moved through your hair with precise yet gentle movements. he knew exactly how to dry your hair without causing any tangles or damage. his fingers occasionally brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

he could sense your tension and reluctance still lingering. so, he broke the silence, trying to lighten the mood. “so, are you still mad at me?” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips. you ignore him.

suguru chuckled for the nth time at your silence and the stubbornness that still flashing from you. he continues to dry your hair, his fingers moving through the strands with practised ease. he can see your irritation reflected in the mirror, your pout growing more defined with every passing moment.

he decides to tease you further, “you know, the silent treatment doesn't suit you as much as you think it does, y/n.” suguru met your glare through the mirror with a cocky grin. he knows how much it irks you when he finds your irritation amusing, but he can't help it. your stubbornness and the way you pouted whenever you were mad was just too cute.

he continued drying your hair, enjoying the feeling of the wet strands between his fingers. “come on, don't give me such a dirty look. you know you can't stay mad at me forever.”

suguru's eyes lingered on your reflection, his grin growing wider at the sight of your sulky expression. he couldn't resist teasing you further, loving how you tried to maintain your angry demeanor despite his attempts to get a reaction, find your stubbornness endearing and adorable, even when you were in a bad mood.

as he finishes drying your hair, he runs his fingers through the soft, now-dry locks, savoring the silken feel of your hair. “there you go, all done, you're welcome,” he says, smiling. you sat there, still refusing to acknowledge his presence, stubbornly keeping silent.

suguru chuckled at your stubborn silence. he couldn't deny that he was enjoying the game of seeing how long you would keep up the facade of being mad at him. his arms crossed as he watched you in the mirror.

he decides to break the silence once more, his voice low and smooth. “you know, you're quite cute when you're sulking like this,” he teased, his smirk growing wider. “oh fuck you!” you throw him a bottle of your skincare.

suguru's smirk widens, enjoying your outburst. he catches the bottle of your skincare without any effort, his reflexes quick. he holds it up, inspecting it with a cocky grin.

“feisty as always, I see,” he quipped, setting the bottle down on his bed. he takes a step towards you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“come on now, there's no need for violence. unless you find it fun?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive. the moment you ignore him again, he rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, clearly getting impatient. “okay, that's it, y/n, stop ignoring me,” he said firmly, picking you up and throwing your body gently onto the bed.

he quickly positions himself beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. he looks at you with a serious expression on his face. “now, stop giving me the cold shoulder and talk to me,” he demanded.

“you're a jerk,” you spat with the lack of bite on your voice.

suguru smirked at your retort, noticing the lack of venom in your voice. “a jerk, huh?” he repeated, his tone playful yet slightly mocking.

he continues to hold onto your waist, his fingers tracing small circles on your waist that still cover with a towel. “you're going to have to do better than that, y/n. you know calling me names doesn't work on me.”

he leans closer with a wide smile on his lips as he gives your lips a peck, still smiling. “stop it, I don't wanna talk to you,” you try to push him away only for him to bring you closer. his hand is gripping on your wrist in the air.

with the same feature as before, he gives you a peck for the second time, “oh, feisty as ever. you know, you should invest in some anger management classes, y/n.”

“Oh, please. If I took anger management classes, you'd be bored out of your mind without me to keep you entertained,” you shot at him, “and why waste money on classes when I can just use you for free practice?” you slowly start to give in, relaxing your head on the pillow.

he couldn't help but find your feisty nature and quick retorts amusing. “you're right, the world would probably be a much duller place without your fiery attitude.” he teased, his smirk growing wider at your snarky comment. he tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“using me as a free practice, huh? I could get used to that.” he chuckled, his thumb tracing small circles on your hip. he leaned in, his voice lowered to a sultry whisper. “you know, If you keep being so feisty, you might just end up giving me ideas.”

his hand slowly moving upward to untie the knot of your towel— without asking you for your permission to leave you with nothing but your panties and throwing towel to god-know-where.

you help him to take off his black boxie oversized t-shirt and his oversized pants, leaving the Calvin Klein boxer hugging his body. he covers both of you with a blanket.

you scoot over to him while he adjusts his position to lying on his back with his arm around your waist possessively. your head rests on his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat on your cheeks.

“what ideas?” you asks.

he smiles as he feels you move closer to him, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist and pulling you tightly against him. your head lying on his bare chest, the soft thudding of his heartbeat filling your ears as he holds you possessively.

he chuckles at your question, his fingers tracing small circles on your hip. “oh, you know, little ideas…” he responds in a low, suggestive tone. “things that involve you being even more feisty and me having to punish you for it.”

you stay silent for a second, “give it to your girlfriend,” you mumble. suddenly remember the girl he's been dating for a while now.

but even so, you couldn't bring yourself to care and stop whatever happens between you and suguru. you can't stop the feeling of his warm skin under your palm as you caressing his skin from his chest to his shoulder and to his neck, over and over.

suguru's smile falters for a moment as you mention his girlfriend, knowing that he might be crossing some lines with you. he had completely forgotten about his girlfriend in the heat of the moment but he can't bring himself to care, not when you're so close, your hand caressing his skin in such a soothing way.

he let out a frustrated sigh and looked down at you with a frown. “shut up,” he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “bringing up my girlfriend when we're having a moment like this. you know how to ruin a mood, don't you?”

he let out a sigh and looked down at you with a frown, “why the hell do you have to bring up my girlfriend when we're having a moment like this, y/n?” he couldn't help but feel irritated at the mention of his girlfriend, not wanting to think about her when he had you here in his arms.

he couldn't deny that the two of you were straying into dangerous territory, and he knew he should put a stop to it before things escalated but he couldn't. you had this strange effect on him that he couldn't resist.

you couldn't help but crack a smile as you see suguru's expression falter. you knew you were getting under his skin by mentioning his girlfriend and honestly, it was kind of fun. your hand continued to run over his skin, feeling the muscles twitch under your touch. you push yourself into your elbow to look at him.

“oh, come on, don't pout,” you teased, looking up at him with a sly grin. “you seem to enjoy this moment with me more than with her.”

suguru's frown only deepened at your smile, he can feel your hand tracing over his skin, and it was taking everything he had to not lose control. he tried to ignore the effect you had on him.

“shut up,” he grumbled, glaring down at you. “you don't know what you're talking about.” but deep down, he knew that your words were true. he was enjoying this moment with you far more than he had with his girlfriend.

and he hated himself for it.

his frown deepened into a scowl as your smile grew wider. he knew you were enjoying this, the way you teased him and poked fun at his relationship. he could feel his frustration building as he looked at you.

“yeay? then what are you doing here, suguru? coming straight to me on the first day after summer break but not to your girlfriend?”

he tried to keep his cool, but your words hit a nerve. “shut your mouth,” he said through clenched teeth, tightening his grip on your waist. “don't act like you know anything about my relationship.”

feeling your hand tracing over his skin and your boobs on his side as you push yourself up a little with the support by one of your elbows— facing him, and it was taking suguru had to not lose control. he tried to ignore the effects you had on him especially when your legs tangled with his. he knew that your words were true. enjoying the moment with you far more than he had with his girlfriend, shoko ieri.

“oh, i think i know plenty,” you reply nonchalantly, continuing to trace your hand over his body and stop on his neck. “i know that you spend more time with me than her..” you stop for a moment to give his neck a kiss, mouth open.

“that you can't keep your hands off me when we're alone together, and that you're just too proud to admit it,” you continue, giving his neck a kiss with your mouth still open and your tongue stuck out a little, leaving the sloppy kiss on his burning skin.

suguru close his eyes and despite his denial, the truth of your words weighed heavily on his mind. he knew he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be enjoying your touch and your presence as much as he was. but he couldn't help it.

he clenched his jaw as he felt your lips on his neck, the sensation going straight to his core. your words only further fueling the fire within him. he knew he should stop this before it gets out of hand but his body betrayed him.

“you really have no shame, do you?” he grumbled, the lust and irritation evident in his voice. “acting like you know everything about my relationship when you're the one who's trying to tear it apart.”

he closed his eyes and let out a deep, frustrated sigh. he knew you were enjoying the effect you had on him and he couldn't deny that he was enjoying it too, despite his words of protest.

he couldn't help but notice your open-mouthed kiss on his neck and the way your tongue ran over his skin, and it was driving him crazy.

he wanted more, but he knew it was wrong. he shouldn't be doing this, especially when he had a girlfriend waiting for him. but when you're this close, it's impossible to resist.

you laugh on his skin at his hypocrisy, “such a hypocrite, aren't you suguru?” you still make no attempt to stop trailing the kissing on his neck. your hand moves to the back of his head, tugging his long hair lightly. you kiss his adam's apple and give it a tiny bite.

“you're the one who started all of this, not me. I don't have any loyalty for shoko but you do, if there's anyone who tears your relationship apart is you,” you mumble on his skin.

suguru let out a shaky breath as you continued your trail of kisses on his neck, the feeling of your teeth on his adam's apple making him shiver. he hates how your words are so spot on, and deep down he knows that you're right.

he grabbed your hand in his hair, but didn't pull it away. he tried to keep his cool, but your words hit a nerve, “i'm not tearing anything apart,” he protested, his voice strained. “you're the one who keeps tempting me, making me forget about her.”

“me?” your hand runs away from suguru's hair, down to his chest, to his abs as your finger tracing across his hard-rock abs. “you just weak, suguru,” you laugh, a mocking one.

suguru's muscles twitches under your touch on his abs. he can feel his heart beating faster, both from annoyance and arousal. he's torn between wanting to push you away and wanting to pull you closer.

he grits his teeth at your mockery, the insult to his pride hitting a sore spot. “i'm not weak,” he retorts, his voice low and firm. “i have self-control. something you clearly lack.”

again, the laugh of mockery leaves from your lips, “you right, I don't.” your hand moving down to his growing bulge, giving it a little squeeze. you watch suguru's expression with a smug smile on your face.

suguru's breath hitches at the sudden touch on his growing bulge, his eyes widening in surprise. he was caught off guard by your boldness, but he couldn't deny the effect you had on him. his body betraying all of his logical thoughts.

he can feel the blood rushing to his face and to his lower region, the feeling of your touch sending jolts of pleasure through him. he hates that you have this effect on him, that he's so weak when it comes to you.

he clenched his jaw, trying to maintain his composure, but it was getting harder and harder. he looked down at you with a hard expression, his eyes burning with a mixture of annoyance and desire.

“i hate how confidently you're acting,” he said through gritted teeth. “like you're in control. it's infuriating.”

“yeah? do you want me to stop?” for the second time you give him another squeeze.

suguru's breath became shaky as you squeezed him again, his eyes clenched shut for a second. “you know damn well that's the last thing i want,” he muttered, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

he could feel his control slipping away with each passing moment, your hand on him making it impossible to think straight. but he was still hesitant, still struggling to hold onto some semblance of decency.

“you're driving me insane, y/n,” he grumbles, his eyes flickering open to look down at you. without thinking his hips moving slightly begging for more of your touch on dick growing bludge. “what about self-control, suguru? your moral?” you mock him, pushing the button until it hits the rock-bottom.

suguru's expression darkened as you mocked him, his patience wearing thin. he clenches his jaw and grabs your chin forcefully, lifting your face so that you are looking directly at him. “don't you dare talk to me about moral,” he growled, the anger in his voice clear. “you have no right, not when you're the one who keeps tempting me.”

he lets out a frustrated sigh, his eyes locking with yours as he feels your hand moving slowly on his covered dick. “why do you have to do this to me? why do you have to make me want you so damn much?”

suguru cursed under his breath as you continued to smile at him, the mockery driving him crazy. he wanted to erase that smug look off your face, to make you as frustrated as you're making him feel.

he released his grip on your chin, only to grab your hips and pull you closer to him, forcing your bodies to press together. he leaned down, his face mere inches from yours, his voice low and commanding. “you're pushing my buttons on purpose, aren't you? just to see how far you can tease me before i snap.”

your hand slid into his boxer, feeling his bulge twitching under your touch. “it's nice to see a man with principal like you going crazy,” you declare.

suguru's breath hitches again as your hand makes contact with his growing bulge, his body reacting on its own. he can't help but let out a low, frustrated groan. he can feel the heat rising in his body, his mind cloudy with desire. he grits his teeth, trying to hold onto his last bit of self-control, but it's getting harder and harder.

he grips your hips, holding you in place, his eyes locked on your face. “you're playing with fire here, y/n. I won't be responsible for my actions if you keep this up.”

“just let me make you feel, suguru.”

suguru can't help but let out a low moan as you pull his dick out, the pre-cum instantly coating his tip. he can feel himself getting harder in your grasp, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to thrust into your hand. his dick twitching under your hand that wrap prettily around his bottom.

you move your hand slowly up and down his dick giving it a light twist a few time. suguru's breath hitches as you move your hand slowly up and down his shaft, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward. his mind is in a haze of pleasure as he tries to focus on anything other than your hand on his dick.

“y-y/n,” he stammers, his breath hitching as you move your hand up and down his dick, the pleasure shooting through his body. his hips buck involuntarily, wanting more. “feel good, baby?” you ask him happily as you continue letting his dick fuck your hand.

“Oh fuck, baby it feels incredible,” suguru stammers out, unable to form a coherent sentence as pleasure consumes him. he watches as your hand moves up and down his dick, the sight alone almost enough to make him cum. the thought of his girlfriend no longer in his mind.

suguru can't help but moan as your hand continues to move up and down his dick, the pleasure building up inside of him. the vein of his dick pop up and you can feel every inch of it making your smile clouded with arousal.

he keep growing each passing and the way his angry tip keeps on leaking his pre-cum showing you that he's been holding it for so long. “look at you..” you smile at him as he close his eyes, “is your girlfriend doesn't make you feel good, suguru?”

suguru's eyes flash open at your comment, a surge of anger mixed with humiliation coursing through him. “shut up,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. but despite his words, his body betrays him. his hips buck upwards, fucking into your hand even harder.

suguru's expression darkens at your words, his body tensing up. he hates the way you tease him and bring up his girlfriend when you are in his room while he is fucking your hand. he opens his eyes and looks down at you, his eyes clouded with a mixture of anger and desire.

“shut up,” he mutters through clenched teeth. “don't talk about her. not when you're the one who's making me feel like this.”

“why not?” you continue to touch him. “am I mentioning her making you horny? isn't it all exciting, suguru? our little secret,” you giggle in his ear as you bite the soft flesh.

suguru's body shivers at your words and the sensations you're causing him. his grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh and mind goes blank at your question, the pleasure consuming him preventing him from thinking about anything else but the hand wrapped around his dick. “fuck, she doesn't compared to you,” he admits, his breath hitching as you hit a sensitive spot.

he hates that you can make him feel this way, that you're making him betray his girlfriend. But at the same time, the forbidden nature of this situation only excites him more. “you're sick,” he mutters, his voice strained. “you get off on this, don't you? On making me lose my self-control.”

suguru moans louder as your hand continues to move up and down his dick, the slickness of his pre-cum making it easier for you to slide your hand along his shaft. he can't help but wonder why he never felt this kind of pleasure with his girlfriend.

“i'm sick, i know,” you proudly said.

your mouth runs to his chest and stops at his nipples, licking and sucking it as you continue to touch him. suguru gasps as your mouth closes around his nipple, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to his aching cock. “yes...right there...suck on them,” he moans, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you to lavish more attention on his sensitive chest.

suguru moans and curses as you continue to pleasure his dick, his body writhing under your touch. he can't believe how good you make him feel, and he knows he won't be able to hold back much longer. “fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum!”

“cum for me, baby.”

the vibration in your voice wavering on suguru's nipple and his eyes rolling back the back of his head. the way your hand move faster on his dick wasn't any help at all.

his legs shaking, his body trembles and convulses as he reached his climax followed by a long groan from the back of his throat. his cock pulsing and spewing thick ropes of cum across his chest and onto your hand. he lets out a long, drawn-out groan, his eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy.

“ahh...fuck, baby...so good...”

as suguru lies there catching his breath, you take the opportunity to lick up the cum that has splattered on your hand and his chest. he watches you with a satisfied smirk, feeling a surge of possessiveness at the sight.

suguru pulls you up into a kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as he tastes the remnants of your desire. when he finally breaks the kiss, he gazes at you with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. “I'm not done with you yet,” he whispers, his hands roaming over your body possessively.

suguru moves to place himself between your legs, his body towering over you. his eyes are filled with a mixture of anger and desire, a dangerous combination.

he looks down at you, the intensity of his gaze making you shiver. “you know damn well you're pushing me to my limits,” he mutters. “and you don't even care, do you? you're just enjoying the thrill of this little game we're playing.”

suguru grabs your wrists and pins them down on the bed, his body pressing against yours. his eyes locked with yours, a mix of lust and irritation.

he leans down, his mouth near your ear, his voice low and rough. “you've been acting like a little brat all day, y/n,” he mutters. “teasing me, taunting me, making me lose my mind. you think it's funny, don't you?” he leans down, until his face is just inches away from yours. his breath is hot against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

“i could end this right now, you know,” he says in a low, commanding tone. “i could push you away and walk out of this room. but you don't want that, do you? you want me to give in, to lose control and do whatever you want me to do.”

“yes..” you couldn't speak, not under his gaze.

suguru raises an eyebrow at your response, surprised by your honest answer. he had expected you to deny it, to try to keep up the act. but here you are, admitting that you want him to give in to his desires.

he studies your face for a moment, his eyes roaming over your features. he can see the hunger in your eyes, the lust that mirrored his own. he smirks, his hands moving to grip your thighs, pushing them apart. “you're a bad influence, you know that?” you mirror his smirk, “please tell me something I didn't know, suguru..”

suguru's smirk widens at your response, his grip on your thighs tightening. “you're always so damn cocky, aren't you? so confident in your ability to push my buttons.” he moves closer to you, his body pressing against yours. he leans down, his lips hovering just above your ear. “and yet, you're the one lying here, at my mercy. at my mercy to do anything i want to you.” without warning, suguru leans down and captures your lips in a heated kiss. his tongue immediately seeking entrance into your mouth, his hunger for you taking over.

he grabs your hips and pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours. his hands roaming over your body, touching and exploring every inch of you, as if he's desperate to remember every part of you.

a gasp escapes your lips as suguru suddenly manhandles you, turning you onto your stomach and his hands roughly pull your hips upward before tearing your panties in one try. you scream a little at his suddenness. “this is all your fault, y/n,” he growl under his breath before giving you ass cheek a hard slap.

you feel a mix of shock and excitement at his roughness, your body responding to his actions. his hand on your ass cheek leaves a sting, and you squeal, trying to squirm away from him.

a low growl escapes suguru's lips as you try to squirm away from him. he holds you in place, his grip on your hips firm. “where do you think you're going?” he mutters, his voice low and dangerous. “you're the one who started this, y/n. you have to deal with the consequences of your actions.”

suguru's grip on your hips tightens, preventing you from squirming away. he leans down and presses a hot kiss to the curve of your back, then trails his lips down to your ass cheek. he bites down hard, eliciting a gasp from you. “suguru..” a soft moan left your lips.

"mhm?" suguru growls, biting down harder on your ass cheek. he relishes in the way you moan his name, his cock twitching in response. suguru's fingers dig into your skin as he pulls your hips back, spreading your cheeks. you feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. “scream for me, y/n,” he hisses in your ear. “let everyone know who's fucking you.”

he doesn't wait for your response, instead he thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside your pussy roughly. he lets out a grunt of satisfaction as he feels your tight hole stretch around him. he starts pounding into you relentlessly, his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust.

“fuck, suguru— slow down! fuck!” you almost scream from his suddenness. his thick and long dick slapping into your cervix with full roughness.

but suguru doesn't give a single fuck. you've been testing him with the way you run your mouth and getting him all pissed. now he gonna make sure the only sounds you make is moaning and screaming for his name.

suguru grins, pleased with the way you're reacting to his roughness knowing he's got you right where he wants you. he leans over and grips your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp for air, squeezing gently as he continues to fuck you mercilessly. “you like that, y/n?” he growls in your ear.

“y-yes, fuck me..”

in your words, suguru's thrusts become even more forceful, his cock hitting deeper with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. he bites down on your neck, leaving small marks as he takes you hard and fast.

“dont— don't stop, Ahh!”

suguru smirks at your response before pulling out slowly, leaving only the tip inside. he grinds his hips in a circle, teasing your entrance before slamming back into you causing you to let out a loud moan. “say my name,” he demands.

“sugu.. ru— fuck! so good,” you stuttering.

hearing you say his name sends a surge of satisfaction through suguru. he increases his pace, pounding into you with unrestrained lust. “fuck baby.. that’s right, scream my name. let the whole world know who’s fucking you,” suguru pumps his hips faster, his dick disappearing inside you and reappearing, slick with your wetness. he tightens his grip around your throat, cutting off your air supply slightly as you struggle to breathe.

a little chuckle escapes suguru as he speeds up his thrusts once more. he reaches around and starts playing with your clit, rubbing it in time with his deep strokes. “you're so tight, y/n... it feels like your little pussy was made for my cock,”

your hand grip tightly on suguru's wrist as you feel your pussy clenching on his dick. “sto.. stop— I can't—” you're crying, toe curling as your eyes rolled back, mouth open from the pleasure. with a self-satisfied smirk, suguru notices the signs of you getting close to your orgasm and removes his hand from your clit. “no... not yet,” he says firmly, slapping your wet pussy hard, making you cry out in pleasure mixed with pain.

your moan and his filling the room, the sound of the skin slapping crashing down to each wall. “you like that, baby? hm? this is what you want rig— right?” suguru stop in his sentence to grunt, “to fuck you like a little slut you are? Oh baby, your pussy feels so good,” his breathless state kissing your shoulder.

suguru's hands move down from your throat to grab your wrists, pulling them back and up, arching your back. he uses his grip to force himself in deeper, feeling his cockhead hit your cervix with each thrust. his other hand push your face down to the bed as you crying for him to slow down, tugging your hair to stop you from moving.

“fuck, fuck, fu— so tight..” he grunt between his thrust.

as he pounds into your cervix, suguru's eyes flash with sadistic pleasure, his breathing growing ragged. “that's it, take it, little slut,” he hisses, his grip on your wrists tightening as he forces you to take every inch of his cock.

“yes, give— it to me, baby.”

suguru grins wickedly, pleased with your desperate pleas and cried. he doesn't let up, continuing to pound into you with merciless force. each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, making your mind foggy with lust. “ah, you're such a good girl, taking my cock so deep. so fucking tight... ” he groans, his hips snapping forward brutally as he fuck into your cervix. suguru love the way you're brain doesn't seem to work whenever he fuck you rough, how one second you cry and begging him to stop while another second you moaning and whimpering like a slut.

suguru's grip on your wrists tightens, making you gasp in pain as he continues to ruthlessly thrust into you. his rhythm is quick, and his cock feels huge inside of you as he pummels your cervix with every stroke. “ah... yes. just like that, y/n.”

he reaches under you, grabbing your breasts roughly and squeezing them, feeling their softness in between his fingers. “fuck, I could do this all day,” he grunts, spanking you roughly in between his thrusts, leaving his mark on your skin.

“i'm gonna cum.. I'm— I'm.”

he smirks, letting go of your nipples and trailing his hand down your body to the junction between your thighs. “you.. don't cum until I fucking tell you to,” he grunts, suddenly he pull his dick out and goes down from his bed before roughly pulling your feet until you stand in front of him, skin to skin. “you're nothing but a little fuck slut for me right now, now, be a good whore and spread your legs wider,”

suguru push you down little bit to shove his dick back into your swollen pussy from behind— to fuck you while standing. your back touching his sweaty chest as he tightly gripping on your throat.

“too sensitive— suguru... can't!”

but it's already too late, suguru is already bottom out inside of you. continued to fucking you to the oblivion and making you seeing stars.

suguru's grip on your throat tightens as he begins to pound into you relentlessly, his thick shaft stretching and filling you completely with each thrust. “shut up, slut. I'll fuck you until you can't walk straight,” he snarls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“it's all your fault, I fucking told you to stop pushing my buttons,” he grumble on you ear as he bite your shoulder, hard enough to leave a slight bruise. “you're always pushing my fucking limits, always testing me,” suguru growls, his breath hot against your ear as he bites down on your shoulder again, leaving another bruise. he starts to fuck you even harder, his thighs slapping against yours with each brutal thrust.

“now take this dick like the slut you are.”

suguru's thrusts become more erratic as he senses your impending climax, your velvet wall hugs his dick tightly and keeps on clenching on his dick. his dominance and desire reaching its peak. “do you want to cum, little whore?” he taunts. “tell me how badly you need to cum on my cock, y/n. make me want to let you have it.”

you nodded aggressively, couldn't hold for another second to cum. “please suguru. please, let me cum. I'm sorry— oh fuck, I'm sorry I'm such a fucking.. fucking— shit, brat!” the way you can't even say a sentence properly without stuttering and eyes rolling sending a full basket of happiness and pride to suguru's heart, knowing that he fuck you so good you became dumb.

suguru's hips pause, his breath hot against your ear, as he revels in the effect he has on you. “not yet,” he teases, his voice dripping with wicked intent. "I want to hear you beg more." He leans in, his teeth grazing your earlobe and smirks to himself, pleased by your desperation and the way you've lost all coherence.

he bring you back to bed, lying your body on his bed while positioning himself between your legs. he look at you expression— eyes hooded with lust and half-closed, your cheeks flustered, body covered with his bite mark and hickeys. utterly fucked and used making suguru smile to himself.

“look at you,” he whisper as he open your leg wide, showing your red swollen cunt, dripping with his cum. “so fucking beautiful,” the smile never leave his handsome face as he placing his dick back to where it belongs— your cunt.

this time, it's gentle and slowly.

suguru enjoy every moment when you gasp I tiny, even after all these countless night getting fucked by suguru you never seems to getting used with his dick, and it's always amazed him.

“oh baby..” he softly moan.

suguru takes his time, pumping in and out of you gently as he watches your reactions. the way your body trembles beneath him, the cute gasps that escape your lips and squirm beneath him, it all turns him on even more. your body still sensitive from the rough fucking earlier.

“suguru,” you called him, so tender like you're in love.

suguru lean down until there's no gap between your body and his, welcome with your hand touching his cheek. your thumb on his lips as he slowly thrust into you. there's no roughness in his thrust, just gentle, full of love as you lock eyes with him. nipping at your thumb before sucking it into his mouth. “you're so fucking sexy when you look at me like that,” he whispered.

as he thrusts into you slowly, he watches you carefully, taking in the tenderness in your gaze and basking in the warmth of your touch. suguru leans in to press a soft kiss against your lips. he deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue as his thrusts slow down and become even gentler, making love to you slowly and passionately.

he pulls back to murmur against your mouth, "I love watching you fall apart for me, baby. You're so beautiful." he can feel yourself melting in his arms, surrendering to the moment and the pleasure that flows between the two of you.

forehead touching, breath fanning across each other face, this time it feel more intimate than before, this time suguru feel like he can see right through you, how you're feeling.

“i love you, baby,” his breathless word lingers around you, “i love you so much.” your heart races at suguru's words, a shiver running down your spine at the intensity of his emotions. he gazes into your eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability and adoration reflected back at him. his thumbs stroke gentle circles on your cheeks as you whispers back, “and i love you..”

suguru's thrusts become faster and more desperate as he reaches his peak. he can see the same urgency in your eyes, the need to reach the pinnacle of pleasure together. he leans down, his forehead resting against yours as he whispers sweet words of love and longing.

the pleasure builds to a crescendo, your bodies moving in perfect sync. suguru's thrusts become more urgent, his hips driving into you with a desperate need. you feel his cock twitching inside you, his grip on your hips tightening as he reaches his peak.

at the same time, you and suguru reach the pinnacle of pleasure, crying out each other's names and screaming "I love you!" as you cum. your body spasms around his cock, milking him for all he's worth as he releases himself deep inside you.

suguru collapses beside you, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he pulls you closer to him. you can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the rapid beating of his heart against your skin.

he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his eyes filled with a tender expression as he gazes at you. “we should clean up,” he says quietly, a hint of humor in his voice. he pauses, his hand gently squeeze your waist. “but not just yet,” he adds, his words filled with a quiet intimacy.

suguru holds onto you tightly, refusing to let you go just yet. his hand continues to trace soft circles on your back, a soothing motion that seems to calm both of you. for a few moments, neither of you say anything, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. but after a while, suguru speaks up again, his voice soft and gentle.

“y/n... can i ask you something?”

"hmm?"

suguru takes a deep breath, his expression growing serious as he gathers his thoughts. he tilts your chin up, so that you're looking directly into his eyes. he hesitates for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. then, he speaks, his voice almost a whisper.

“what are we doing, y/n?” he says quietly, his voice is serious. “when you try to tempt me like this... is it just because you can? because you know i can’t resist you, no matter how hard i try?” suguru's words hang in the air, the weight of his question lingering between you two. he continues to hold your gaze, his eyes searching your face for an answer.

[q1ngqve]

plspls do smut fic with dr ratio x reader

yk the one that you reblogged, the one with the “fuckfuck” sub x “watch your language “ dom? DO SMUT OF IT PLSPLS

link

your chest rise and falls as you try to catch your breath, and the position you’re in is not helping at all. your mouth falls agape slightly as dr ratio angles himself into you, the tip of his cock rubbing deliciously against your g-spot.

your legs shake on his shoulders, and you shy away from his intense gaze. he has you in a mating press, your legs close to your head, dangling on his broad shoulders as he leans down to give you a kiss. embarrassing noises leave you as his hands grip at your ankles, forcing himself further into you.

“fuck fuck fuck—”

strings of curses fly put uncontrollably from how good he feels stretching you out in his position.

“careful, now. use such words again, and see if you get to cum tonight.” his brows furrow down at you, clearly displeased at the use of such foul language.

another cry escapes you as he plunges harder into you, and more uncivilized words roll of your tongue.

“what’d I say?”

but these warnings only spur you on.

he groans when you clench around him, tight enough for him to know that it was intentional. “or what? you’ll fucking—” your words cut off as he kisses you again, roughly this time, sticking his tongue into your mouth, shutting you up.

“then I’ll show you what it means to fuck.”

[abalathia]

- death has come to me, kissed me on the cheek.

[sadesluvr]

NOPE Relationship HC's (SFW + NSFW)

Featuring OJ, Emerald + Angel (Mainly AFAB anatomy but some are GN)

OJ HAYWOOD

gif by @ayoedebiris

Having OJ as a boyfriend might seem difficult at first, but once you adjust it’s rather smooth sailing. It’s easier for him to understand you as he would a horse, so a lot of your connection comes through that. OJ takes his time through actions rather than words to get to know you; and once he feels comfortable enough, he’ll introduce you to the horses. ‘Dates’ aren’t really dates, more of a thing where you two do stuff together, not set on a certain date or time. His favourite activity is being with you whilst you do menial, but necessary tasks to help in the stables, and if you’re lucky he may even teach you how to ride one. OJ doesn’t venture far, so you’d spend spare hours inside, listening to records and having a drink. 

OJ’s favourite position is doggy, and whilst he doesn’t necessarily have a breeding kink, his favourite thing to do is to finish inside you. Backshots can sometimes lack romance, but that isn’t the case with OJ. He’s a bit on the huskier side, and in the heat of the moment he rests his full weight on your back, shoving you into the bedsheets as the fat of your ass slams against his own skin. You’re practically prone-boning at this point; his hands gripping onto the curve of your hip and ass as you angle your head to kiss him. It’s so rare to see him so uninhibited; but he’s still OJ – focused, analytical, all in the chase of your orgasm. He’s the type not to pull out immediately, holding it in you until you both catch your breath and eventually fall asleep... 

OJ is a total munch. He has a habit of devouring you, taking long, deliberate licks on your folds before sucking intently on your clit. He’s all eyes here; studying your face and all its little reactions as he fucks and fingers you until you cum. 

EMERALD “EM” HAYWOOD

gif by @horrorwomensource

Em is a bit of a player, but when she wants to settle down and commit, she will. Being with her is always fun; with spontaneous dates to music shows, arcades or sports events. She gives you complete princess treatment; and will fully walk down the street with her arm around your neck and show you off to everyone who passes. Em def has old school swag (she gets it from her Daddy of course), and in her slower, more intimate moments you spend time getting high and drinking together, listening to the oldies on the record player. Dionne Warwick and The Isley Brothers to Public Enemy and Biggie; they set the tune of your rare but cherished quiet nights in. 

Her nickname for you is ‘Lil Mama’. 

Homegirl is experienced so she knows just how to make love to you. Em eats you out with surprising variety; knowing when to speed up with her fingers and flick her tongue just at the right angle, or when to slow it down and really explore you. She’s humming and praising you the entire time, speaking into your wet pussy. “Damn mama, you sure is sweet.”  She loves it when you run your fingers through her short curls, gripping her roots as you beg for more. Being the competitive spirit she is, Em needs to hear how good she makes you feel. “That’s right pretty girl, say it. Say my name...” 

When she brings out the strap, she’s a total menace. She managed to get the ones that are flesh coloured, and she takes advantage of it. She’ll slap it on your lips and lie back as you ride her, taking it off at the last second and eating you out just as you cum. 

ANGEL TORRES

gif by @keefechambers

Being with Angel is the typical 20-something relationship experience. Meeting him at the store, or on Instagram, Angel is chilled, but sweet. Most of your dates/hangouts take place late at night after his shift; going to the movies, the arcade, or just crashing at his place. It isn’t the tidiest, but half the time you’re only there for one thing anyway. Angel loves a late night meal – whether it’s because he’s got the munchies, or that’s when he has free time – but most of your dates include eating at some diner or restaurant. He’s truly the plug when it comes to good eats. 

It’s cliché, but he does love seeing you wear his band tees, especially when you’re at his place, lounging on the bed as you watch him play video games and it rides up your stomach. It makes him feral. 

 His only red flag is that he’s a Bitcoin miner. 

Angel has big dweeb boyfriend energy. His favourite way to fuck you is when you’re both half high, or tired, or just plain bored. One minute you’re on his bed smoking and listening to one of his favourite niche rock bands, and the next you’re in cowgirl, lazily fucking back on his cock. He’s loves blowjobs, especially while high, and is definitely more of a receiver.  Angel prefers to cum somewhere on your body, just because he’s 24 and doesn’t want to risk having a child/getting a disease, but there’s been one time where you’ve fucked raw. He came inside and he loved it. 

Angel is more of a whimper, preferring to make soft moans rather than loud noise, but when he’s really riled up it’s damn near impossible to shut him up. 

[roe-and-memory]

i thoroughly believe lightning has a scar from some dumb mistake he made completely unrelated to racing.

one night, doc is out late with sheriff, probably playing chess or doing some old people stuff at the town hall like they always do. lightning has to fend for himself, but hes tired and not really in the mood to make real food. he finds pasta in the cupboard and decides to make himself mac and cheese, cause really, why not? its easy, tastes good, and its probably one of the only foods he could see himself eating right about now anyways.

he puts some water on the stove to boil and, when its at the perfect temperature, he dumps in the pasta and leaves it to cook — stirring occasionally, of course — and while that cooks, he puts together a little salad for himself, gets the cheese ready, and finally, when the timer dings, pulls out a trivet and goes to pick up the pot to put on it…

he grabs the handle weird.

it twists in his hand, turning towards him, and subsequently dumps the full contents of boiling hot water and pasta all over his stomach and onto the floor.

he drops the pot back onto the stove and freezes, that quick shot of adrenaline from the fear of realizing hes fucked wears off just as quickly as it came on. suddenly, its blinding pain and he’s now leaning against the stove, trying not to let himself fall to the floor and curl into a ball because jesus christ, that hurts like a motherfucker.

lightning doesnt even realize he’s hyperventilating until he’s trying to force back tears, when the feeling of them forming in the corners of his eyes brings him back to reality and back to that godawful pain.

he cant think straight, he doesnt even think to get off his clothes — which are now pressing this scalding hot water to his skin for an even longer period of time than necessary — he just forces himself to stand up and stumble to the door, using the wall as a guide and crutch for his poor coordination brought on by the fact his entire stomach is on fire and every single step he takes is another punch to the stomach with sharp brass knuckles, or at least thats what it feels like.

he doesnt put his shoes on. he walks out of the house, slips on the porch stairs trying to keep himself steady, falling down them and finding himself on the ground at the bottom, fighting off the urge to just hug his knees to his chest and cry.. he stands up and begins his now barefoot adventure to the closest place he can think to go with people who will care for him — flos.

lightning is not a person of neediness. he doesnt like to be coddled when hes in pain — in fact, he could happily go without telling someone of an injury until they find out about it themselves — but at this very moment, he knows he cant handle this himself.

the walk to flos feels like it takes hours. in reality, a usually three minute walk turns to fifteen, and as soon as he steps into the cafe, all eyes are on him.

he barely hears flo ask if hes okay. he just walks up to the counter, shaking at this point (however, this fact is completely unbeknownst to him), and asks her for help. even his own words sound muffled to him.

flo brings him behind the counter, back into her office, away from the people out there eating and chatting, frantically asks him whats wrong, and figures out pretty quickly that its medical help he needs. lightning tells her to the best of his abilities that he spilled boiling water all over himself, and it takes her one look up and down to realize hes still wearing his soaking wet clothes. she wastes no time running out to the townsfolks usual table and asking sarge and fillmore, who are the only two still around at this hour, to go find doc and to find him another set of clothes.

for lightning, everything is moving at a snails pace. by the time flo comes back into the office, he’s sitting against the wall with his arms wrapped around his stomach, forehead on his knees, quietly praying to whatever god will listen to put him out of his misery.

to flo, this is all happening way too quick. the towns kid, basically, just walked into her café barefoot, drenched in water, and shaking, and confessed to her that he just horrifically scalded himself on boiling hot water while he was home alone and he doesnt know what to do. thankfully for her, time is moving fast enough that doc is in her office within five minutes, and sarge is right behind him with a very mismatched outfit that he very obviously pulled out of his own wardrobe.

doc doesnt bother taking lightning to the clinic at that very moment, he just tells sarge to get flos first aid kit from the kitchen and deals with it right there to just clean the burns and put a temporary stop to the pain. when thats set and done, THEN he takes his kid to the clinic to do a proper assessment.

lightning has second degree burns. they last for a month and a half until theyre “healed”, and then lightning is left with a large, “ugly”, harsh scar across his stomach and along the front of his thighs. he’s embarrassed about it, but doc saw that moment as sort of an evolution for lightning — for the first time ever, his kid asked for help when he needed it.

[youre-ackermine]

Moodboard:

Headcanons:

Postwar Levihan

It's been three years since the war ended. Against all odds, Hange survived & lives with Levi. They found an abandoned cabin in a remote area near Liberio, miraculously spared as well as the bunch of trees that hides it from sight.

Day after day, they fixed up their new home as best they could. It’s not much but it’s their safe, shared home & it’s all that matters.

Once settled, none of them could stay out of the action. Hange works in what remains of Liberio, in a makeshift hospital occupying the ground floor of a half-destroyed building. They help treat sick or injured people several days & nights a week.

There isn’t enough room at the hospital so they managed to set up a lab at home where they can do some research, mostly about new medications or even prosthetics. Levi stays at home most of the time, taking care of the house, growing a vegetable garden, cutting wood & planting more trees around their cabin. In his glass house, Levi enjoys raising flowers, but he also sowed medicinal herbs for Hange’s experiments. Every once in a while, he goes to Liberio to help refugees, mostly children who lost their parents during the war.

Valentine's Day

A couple weeks ago, Gabi & Falco told Levi about Valentine’s Day, a tradition unknown on Paradis Island. As much as it seemed futile at first, Levi couldn't stop mulling over the idea.

After several days of wearying work, Levi convinced Hange to rest properly for once.

Sitting on the bed next to them, he takes a few moments to gaze at Hange’s sleepy face. He finds them beautiful, despite the burns. Or maybe he loves them even more because of these scars, a testament to their bravery. He’s so grateful they’re here with him, brightening his days with their cheerful, beaming smile, the very smile he fell in love with.

Meanwhile they sleep in on their day off, he busies himself getting tea ready for breakfast, packing some food & a blanket in a basket, slicing vegetables for the stew simmering in the pot over the fire. 

Levi is waiting for Hange in the hall while they put the bouquet of snowdrops he picked for them earlier this morning in a vase. They blushed & stammered a shy thank you when he drew it from behind the basket placed on his lap.

He promised himself today would be special. Nothing fancy, but a few hours for themselves without work or chores.

Hange would push his wheelchair along the paths nearby, blabbering about their research, asking him a million questions about the garden or the herbs he grows, about the pain in his leg. From time to time, they would lean down to kiss him on the cheek, giggling like a shy teenager. They would find a nice place to spread a blanket on the grass & enjoy their picnic. They would spend the afternoon watching clouds, Levi listening with fondness to Hange’s explanations about their shapes or how they form. When the sun would start to set & the breeze to be too cold, they would go back home & take a bath to warm themselves. 

Hange would stuff their face with the most delicious stew they ever tasted. They would settle with a contented sigh & a glass of wine in front of the fireplace, snuggled up against Levi under a warm blanket.

Levi would say he's not good with words. Levi would draw a little box out of his pocket & simply give it to Hange. Levi would gently slide the jewel on Hange's finger, not a proposal but rather a promise.

The promise to spend the rest of their lives together.

Happy Valentine's Day ❤️

Moodboard, header & dividers: @youre-ackermine

Requested by: Flo @littlerequiem 🌹

A/N: Snowdrops are a symbol of hope, new beginnings, renewal, comfort, capacity to triumph over challenges, beauty & purity// English is not my usual language // Click on the moodboard for better quality

[champmorado]

i didnt expect a MOBILE GAME of all cars media to feature something of a chick hicks redemption arc????

[andtheywerefootballers]

So they talked about coming from playing basketball together here and deadass my ass was hoping that the DFB would release a video on it BUT NO!! I NEED GAY BASKETBALL PLAYING GOD DAMN IT!

[littlerequiem]

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 2

> 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, Descriptions of the Rumbling (WC: 7k)

( Previous chapter / Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

-

It’s past curfew when you catch a glimpse of Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary. He's been coming up here this past week, though this is the first time you approach him.

“You gonna tell anyone?” Levi asks. He’s playing with a small pocket knife, twirling it in his hand.

You consider his question. No doubt Erwin would want to know that his new gamble is sneaking away from the barracks every evening. Then again, knowing Erwin, he might already know and chooses to just let it slide anyway.

You lean your weight over the edge of the window sill, gazing at the way moonlight crowns Levi's hair. “Are you going to hurt anyone with that knife?”

Levi's eyes twinkle in the night. “What, just because I’m from the Underground means I’m gonna stab someone?”

“Actually,” you say carefully, “I was more worried about you hurting yourself.”

His eyes lose their fire; he focuses back on his knife. “I won’t.”

.

.

.

Freedom—it is the ability to glimpse at endless blue skies; it is horse riding until dusk; it is choices and opinions and being able to voice them.

These days, Levi takes it for granted, his freedom. He’s an ungrateful asshole like that.

If the people from his childhood would hear him now, they would spit in his face. Try to beat him to a pulp. Here he is, lacking gratitude, when some poor lowlife was born and died in that shit hole that was the Underground.

Levi hears that the Underground doesn’t exist anymore. You’ve told him that the Rumbling caused earthquakes to fracture the ground, that much of the subterranean city has been buried under. There were some casualties, of course, but the worst could be avoided since Historia had ordered a gradual evacuation years prior.

Levi wonders if the people now discovering life above ground still have violence in their blood the way he once did when he first saw the sun.

“Levi, where is your secret tea stash?”

Your question muffles over the sound of the kettle groaning awake on the gas stove, blending with the sound of waves crashing outside. It tears him right out of his thoughts and away from the headline he'd been reading: 'More than 75% of refugees in Marley now rehoused, much work still remains in the mental aftermath of the war'.

Levi has been up for several hours now, breakfast long since consumed. You, on the other hand, just got up, the whisks of sleep still present in your cadence, in the corners of your eyes. An anomaly to be sure—Levi remembers you being an early riser, but he supposes that habits, just like people, change.

“Why would I have a secret tea stash?” he counters.

You yawn, a hand covering your mouth. “Well... you always had a secret tea stash, didn't you?”

“To hide from cadets and their grubby fingers. I’m all alone here.”

“Mm," you shrug, words a little slurred, "you could still want to hide a thing or two from me.”

“Then I wouldn’t tell ya where it was, would I?” Levi leans one elbow over the kitchen table, chin lazily resting on the center of his palm. His index finally pokes out to give directions. “S’on the left side, second cupboard.”

Your gaze follows his directive, only to look at him with a slightly more straight posture. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” You stick your tongue out, like a damn child. “Words. They help.”

Levi refrains from rolling his eyes. He watches you open the cupboard, grabbing the tin of loose tea leaves.

On the chair next to him, Scout is curled up and fast asleep. The kitten's muzzle scrunches as she dreams.

“Are you sure I'm allowed to drink this?” he hears you ask.

Levi's eyes flicker back towards you. “Yeah."

"But isn't this special? Isn't this tea from Paradis?"

It is tea from Paradis, courtesy of Armin. It's one of Levi's last boxes, in fact. He knows he'll eventually run out of it, and while he supposes he could ask for more of it, he thinks his taste buds will just need to adapt to something else. That's just the way life goes.

"You know," he mutters, "if you’re gonna be like this about every little thing around the house, it's gonna get tiring real fast.”

You focus on preparing the tea. “I’m just being polite."

“Why? You never bothered before."

A grimace splits across your face. "Ouch. Harsh.”

"S'not," Levi mumbles, running a hand through his hair. It’s freshly washed, still a bit damp. "I mean, no need to act all fake and shit."

"Okay... but this isn't like life in the Survey Corps. This is your house."

His house. Levi doesn't know if he should be more possessive about these things, the way he's seen some townspeople be with their possessions, but Levi's just never been one to care about these things. He never has.

Levi flips his newspaper to the next page. "So long as you keep the place clean, I don’t care about the rest."

“You don’t care?”

His eyes meet yours. There's a spark in your gaze.

Oh you’re taunting him.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest. "Drill this into your head, Adler: anything that’s mine is yours, so just treat this place as such.”

That seems to shut you right up. You blink with a dumbfounded expression, apparently startled by his (accidental, Levi swears it was accidental) turn of phrasing. It’s soon replaced by words uttered beneath your breath, words Levi doesn’t quite grasp because his own ears are whistling. He returns his attention back to the newspaper, attempting to shrug off the weight of the innuendo.

Anything that’s mine is yours. What a stupid thing to say. That almost sounded like a confession or some shit. 

For the next minute, Levi tries his damn best to focus on his newspaper.

“Getting her beauty rest, huh?”

You've placed two cups of tea on the table, one pushed towards him, along with a plate for the infusers. You're eying Scout.

“She seems glued to your side,” you add, sitting down.

“Kittens sleep a lot,” Levi supplies lamely.

“In any case, it’s cute to see the two of you together.”

Levi turns the handle of his cup to his left side. “Please.”

“Can you imagine what everyone would say? The fearless Captain Levi, succumbing to a cat—”

"Quit talking and just drink your tea, would you?”

A smirk tugs at your lips. “Aye, aye, captain."

For a moment, silence does fall, and his peripheral catches your chest rising and falling, something oddly quaint and peaceful about witnessing your breathing. You’re staring outside the window, looking at the view of the sea glimmering in the distance. He follows your line of sight, noting that there’s a buildup of crusted salt around the windows; Levi should really clean it off before summer ends.

“Hey, so,” you interrupt after a while, “I was thinking of going to the market today. Get a few things. Maybe find a job.”

Levi locks eyes with you. You’re holding onto your cup with two hands.

“A job?” Levi asks.

“Mm. Yeah. Something that makes sense for me...”

You want to get back to the medical field, already? You just got here.

“Why the hurry?"

“Well…" you say, "I don’t want to leech off you forever—”

“You're not.”

“Still, it'd be good for me, right?” You shoot a bright smile—something too bright about it. Levi eyes narrow. “Anyway, you wanna join or what?” Your eyes crinkle with softness. “You know... I’d love to meet all the nosy people you’ve told me about.”

Levi purses his lips, feeling as though you glossed over that subject much too quickly. A part of him wants to nudge you a bit, though his usual habit to just let you be kicks in. Whatever you're hiding, you have your reasons.

Levi considers your proposal. He knows it would be better if he didn’t join, seeing how damn foolish he’s already acting around you. He should try to set clear boundaries with you.

And yet—

“Sure,” comes out of him all the same.

Well, so much for that, anyway.

.

.

.

“You flew.”

You stand there, staring at the sight of the man as he finishes his round of training.

Levi shoots you a look, grappling with the hand grips. “I’m just using the ODM gear correctly.”

You take a step towards him. “No, but you’re amazing. You must know that, right? I’m not a soldier, but… I know talent when I see it.”

He gives you an odd look then, and before you have a chance to say anything else, propels himself in the air and disappears in the shadows of the forest.

.

.

.

At the market, Levi follows you around like a brooding shadow.

He’s in his wheelchair today. Behind him, you’re pushing him and asking questions about the scenery and the people and all sorts of trivial things.

(“Look, look there, all these teas. Have you tried any of them?”

“Some.”)

(“I'm gonna buy some flowers to plant in the gardens. Is that alright?”

“Do what you want.”)

(“Is the sea always as pretty?”

“Yeah. Sometimes, there's shit that gets carried in.”

"How poetic.")

(“Look, Levi! A car.”

“It looks dangerous.”

“I think I’d like to try driving. Get over my fear, you know?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Hey, give me some credit! S’not so different from riding a horse, right?”

“You’ve got a few screws loose up there, you know that?”)

Well, Levi was never great at talking. Not that you seem to mind; you’ve always liked to ask him questions and fill in the blanks when needed. Most of the time, it’s the silence that sits comfortably between the two of you that Levi appreciates so much anyway. It just is, filling the space between the two of you like a soft cloud fills the sky with shapes.

You're moving next to him, calmly taking in the sight of the buzzing market. It's a little too busy for Levi's liking, but the sight of you distracts him: you’re wearing a sunhat with ribbons today, coupled with your cotton overalls. Levi’s never seen you wear a hat like this one before, but he thinks it suits you.

“You should protect your skin from the sun,” you’d said earlier. “That’s why I wear a hat.”

“I didn’t come to the surface to run away from the sun,” he’d grumbled back, even if he did notice how warm summers in Marley truly are (and yes, he’d gotten sunburned on several occasions, and also yes, his injured eye stings every time the sun shines too brightly... but, still, Levi wouldn’t budge).

“Good morning, dear boy! What a surprise to see you here!” someone says, tearing Levi out of the thoughts. Attached to that booming voice is none other than Levi's boss, Adam Jakowski.

Originally an Eldian from Marley, Mr Jakowski was one of the first residents that settled here in Mare. He quickly opened his carpentry shop, and when Levi moved in, he found a job there.

Today, however, Mr Jakowski isn't here for any carpentry-related trades. Every week-end, the man likes to come here and share the goods his wife makes.

"What brings you here?" Mr Jakowski asks.

“I was dragged out, believe it or not,” Levi answers, head bobbing towards you.

Next to him, he hears you snort.

“And who might this pretty young lady be? Are you the missus Ackerman, per chance?” Mr Jakowski asks, his tone carrying a curiosity only people genuinely interested in others are capable of mustering.

Levi feels his cheeks burn at the idea, but you just chuckle, swatting a hand in the air to dispel the notion. “No such thing, sir. But I am new to town and it pleases me all the same to make your acquaintance. Miss Adler, charmed to meet you.”

Levi’s thin brows knit together. It’s the first time he hears you introduce yourself without your profession tied in.

Miss Adler. Not Dr Adler.

Strange.

“Well met, Miss Adler… Well met, indeed! Ah, it is a pleasure to see new faces in Mare, especially a lovely one such as yours. Will you be staying here for a while?”

“Mm. Who knows?” You smile. “I can’t quite say yet, to tell the truth.”

Levi’s throat suddenly feels a little thick.

“Anyway, what are you selling here, sir?” you ask, peering over the stall of the merchant, gazing at all the products and zeroing on a particular one: a red paste.

“The one you're eying is a paste from the eastern part of Marley, ma'am. It’s made with paprika and bell-peppers, you see. Great for inflammations and stomach issues,” the old man explains. He makes you smell it, then turns around to sprinkle it onto something. “You can coat it like so,” he raises a piece of bread that he smears with the red paste, “or add it to your cooking.”

He hands you the toast.

You bite into it, chewing for several moments as you raise a hand over your mouth. “Walls! It does have such a particular taste. It’s the aftertaste, right? Spicy.”

Your eyes wander to meet Levi’s, and you raise the bread slightly in his direction as if to inquire if he wants to taste it as well. Levi shakes his head, and you shoot him a smile, gulping down the rest of the food.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest, drumming his left index in a series of five taps over his forearm—tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Next to him, he hears the way you engage in easy conversation, talking about the weather, how the region has adjusted to the influx of settlers, how you're looking for a job and how, yes, you’d love to meet his wife and daughter!

The rest flies over his head. Instead, Levi looks up at your sunhat again, admiring the way it hugs the shape of your skull, the way the ribbons flow gently with the breeze.

Levi wonders if he could buy you a hat. Or sew you a new ribbon. Would you accept his gifts?

At last, you seem convinced of the product and order three jars. This is the moment when Levi comes back to his senses, seeing you rummage through your pockets to find coins to pay for your purchase.

No such luck.

Levi beats you to it, slinging out the leather pouch his first squad gifted him many years ago, placing the change in Mr Jakowski's hands.

You blink, mouth parted, but Levi just plops the jars he receives into your bag, wheeling himself back.

He hears you fumble your goodbyes to Mr Jakowski, thanking him for his help, and at once, your voice is in his ears.

“Levi, why did you just pay?” you ask, tone bewildered.

“Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.”

“I’m not." You stop in front of him, all stern-looking, hands on your hips. "You didn’t have to do that.”

Levi raises a defiant brow. “But I did, and it’s done.”

“Don’t make it sound so simple. You’re already letting me stay in your house for free. I intend to pay my dues, you know. I have money.”

“I'm sure you do.”

“You—”

“Complain again and I won’t let you pay for a damn thing.”

You close your mouth, glaring at him.

Levi swears he hears something along the lines of ‘I’ll just sneak it back into your pockets later’ whispered under your breath, but when he narrows his eyes in your direction, you feign a look of innocence.

After purchasing everything you wanted to purchase—a book on art, flower beds for the garden—you finally settle in a cozy little café on the town’s square. You order some pastries, while Levi takes his usual tea, the closest thing that resembles the tea from back home. You watch people from everywhere bustle by, while Levi sips on his drink.

“Hey, look!” you point out suddenly. “I’ve never seen those birds before.”

You've pointed to a flock of birds of all colors, no larger than a fist. They’re hopping on the ground, scavenging for food. You get up, asking for some seeds from a waiter to feed them.

“Why did they migrate to this part of the world?” you wonder as you lay out food for them.

Levi doesn’t know what to say. He stares at the birds, nibbling the seeds, admiring the way their feathers seem foreign in this strange land.

Maybe, Levi thinks to himself, just like all the rest of this town, the birds were looking for a new home.

.

.

.

“You know, you should try to teach them.”

Levi’s bored expression swerves in your direction. You’re back to leaning on the window sill, while he sits on the rooftop. A routine, these last weeks.

“What?” Levi mutters.

“Your combat skills. I saw you at training again. I’ve never seen anything quite like the way you handle yourself. You should teach the other cadets.”

His eyes narrow. “And why would I do that?”

“You’ve been out there, right? Seen what the titans are like? You could save their lives.”

.

.

.

The square of Mare is quiet at this time of the evening. A half-moon hangs lazily over the black sky, casting its silver glow over Mare.

You’ve both been drinking. Cheap, bubbly, acidic. Cremant, a drink native to Marley. It was given to you by a shopkeeper when you picked up bread earlier—all it took was seeing you by his side and hearing you were new in town. The woman practically threw the bottle at you, offering it as a welcome gift. You tried to refuse, many times over, but the woman wouldn't take no for an answer (“We need young blood around, so anythin’ to convince younglings like yourself to settle down!”).

Now, here you are, finishing the bottle together in a park. Levi sits with you on a bench, his wheelchair tucked behind it.

Silence.

Levi thinks there’s something on your mind. You’ve never been easy to read; you’ve got a tendency to hide and scheme, to play it off like it’s no big deal, but it’s always your lips that give you away. You bite them when you’re worried, you pout when you’re deep in thoughts.

“Hey.” Levi raises your attention, only to find gentle eagerness on your face. It makes him frown for some reason. “Say something.”

You seem a little taken aback by his directive. It’s rare for Levi to actually seek conversation after all, much less to be the one initiating it.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask.

Levi shrugs. “I don’t know, just anything.”

“Like… what?”

Levi mulls it over. If it were him, he’d hate to be put on the spot and asked outright what to say. So he decides to try a tactic he’s seen you use on others—starting with something light before finding the right angle to tackle the actual subject.

“What was your favorite sight?” he inquires. “On your travels.”

“My… favorite sight?”

Levi gives you a look that makes it clear he’s not gonna repeat himself.

“The sea, of course.” You raise your feet on the bench, hugging your knees as you stare off pensively. “It’s funny, really. With every nation we visited, we saw mountains, deserts and forests… but I kept coming back to the sea.”

Levi remembers the first he saw the sea. The water, glimmering like thousands of silver gems. The blue sky, coming to meet its shine. The 104th brats, with awestruck wonder. Hange and their brazen curiosity.

And you, the way you’d looked at him…

If ever there was a moment of peace during Levi’s years as a soldier, it was those blissful hours spent by the sea. It felt like the world had grown so big, and that there was only wonder to be discovered.

Of course, reality had caught up.

“I’m glad you’ve picked a place like this one to settle down,” you say. "It kind of feels like a homecoming, you know?"

"Yeah."

“The stars are so bright out here.”

Levi follows your line of sight.

This past year, Levi has rediscovered an admiration for stars. Back inside the Walls, they reminded him of Isabel and Furlan, of his dreams from another life. This past year, they’ve started making him think of you, too.

All because of one of your letters: 'Levi, do you ever think about the fact that, despite the distance that separates us, every night, when we look at the sky, we see the same stars?'

“What else,” he finds himself asking, “what else do you have to say about your travels?”

“Hmm… what do you want to know exactly? I wrote so much in my letters, I’d have thought you’d be tired of hearing about that topic.”

“Yeah, but you only described random shit. What was it like?”

What was it like without me?

That thought hangs on his tongue, begs for relief, but Levi bites it down. It’s not right for him to ask; it's none of his business.

And yet, your answer still takes him by surprise, “It was… hard.”

To that, Levi does raise a brow, looking at you.

He finds your gaze already on him.

“The sights were... nice, of course,” you continue. “I got to witness all manners of landscapes. Those were the photographs I sent you in my letters. But then, well, the rest came.”

You swallow loudly. Levi finds his heart squeezing, though he doesn’t fully understand why.

“Seeing the aftermath of the Rumbling…” Your lower lip quivers as the volume of your tone decreases. “It was horrifying. The emptiness was the worst. It’s not like murdering someone in cold blood, see. There, you have to deal with bodies. But, what Eren did…”

You shudder. Levi thinks you’re trying to even out your breathing, and a part of him wants to reach out to you and squeeze your hand. And yet, he knows there’s nothing he can do to really alleviate those images flashing in your brain. That nothing he does can make it right again, that the pain you feel is the cost both of you need to bear for the rest of your lives.

“After that, I went with Armin because I knew he would need help, because I always believed in diplomacy… because I still believe in it. Even now," you say. "But many nations hate the Eldians from Paradis. They hate us and maybe they have every right to hate us.”

You stop talking and close your eyes. For a while, the lull in conversation allows Levi to stare at you unabashedly, to commit your features to memory.

“Why did you never say any of this in your letters?” he asks mid-silence.

“I guess it felt easier not to mention it. I don’t know. I wanted you to hear hopeful things in my letters.”

“I’ve seen how shitty the world can be.”

“I know, but that’s exactly why.” Your eyes somehow find his own again. “That’s why I didn’t want you to know it’s still the same out there.”

It makes Levi’s blood rush, like he was some breakable thing that needed to be protected.

“You don’t need to coddle me.”

And yet, you don’t even seem to notice the snap in his tone, your crossed arms tightening around your knees.

“I know, Levi,” you whisper. “But that doesn’t mean that my pain is your burden to bear.”

Seeing your deflated expression, dipped chin resting over your knees as you lose yourself to your thoughts, Levi’s defense mechanism fizzles away.

That’s the thing about you.

No matter how harshly he reacts, you never seem to rise to the same level as him, the way others did in the military, and it might be why Levi always found it easier to stay by your side.

“You dumbass,” he says with a sigh. Despite telling himself to hone it back, Levi can’t help but raise a hand to the back of your skull, ruffling your head gently—the only comfort he knows how to hand out right now. “Of course that’s my burden.”

The knot in your throat bobs. “Levi, you don’t—”

“Don’t give me that.” He pauses, the words heavy on his tongue. “Even I no longer have the rank to prove it… what does it matter? Nothing’s changed.”

Your voice comes out grated. “Nothing’s changed?”

Levi hesitates. So much hangs on this question. Of course, things have changed.

And yet…

He retreats his hand, patting his stiff leg. “Some things did.”

“Does it still hurt a lot?”

“Some days more than others. The doctor has helped.”

“I’m glad... I'm so glad. Are you still seeing him every other week?”

He nods.

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

His eyes narrow. “You said that already.” You shoot him a lopsided smile. He sighs. “Anyway, you gonna tell me why you stopped calling yourself a doctor?”

Different degrees of surprise flash across your face. Your eyes are wide as saucers, while your mouth stays slightly open.

Levi waits. And waits.

“Hey, you’re not trying to catch flies, are you?” he says, lifting a finger to poke at your chin.

His physical reminder seems to bring you back to the present.

A pout forms on your lips. “How did you know I no longer want to be a doctor?”

Levi shrugs with one arm, pressing his back against the bench. “I guessed, and you just confirmed it.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice so quickly." You let out a wry snort. "Should have known; you’re always so perceptive.”

“And you’re beating around the bush.”

You hum. “Indeed, I am. It’s just… I’m scared of your judgment.”

Levi frowns.

“Don’t give me that look, Levi Ackerman. Your judgment, yes. You’re a very scary man, just not for all the reasons people think you are.”

In the distance, the sound of seagulls drifts from the skies.

“When I asked you if I could come here…” you say after a pause, “I kept on thinking to myself: What will Levi think of me?” You raise one hand to your face, glancing at the scar that runs from your index to the lower part of your palm—a memento left by the Yaegerists. “What will he think of this hand?”

Levi stays silent.

Your smile turns bitter. “You always said my hands were made for healing. But after everything that happened, everything we did, they’re not anymore. They can’t be.”

“Hey—”

“—and the question kept playing in a loop in my head. Will Levi think I’m a coward? Will he think less of me for giving up on this? Is he gonna be done with me?”

Levi ignores all the ways you seem to include him in your insecurities and focuses on one thing only: “You’re a lot of things but a coward isn’t one of them.”

You shake your head. “But I am a coward. I don’t have it in me to heal people, not like that anymore.”

Levi doesn’t know why, but there’s a sense of dread forming in his pit of his stomach.

“Is that why you’re here?” he asks.

Your eyes fire back on him. “No, I didn’t come here to escape, or as a last resort.” You glance away. “But I do feel… lost.”

That makes him backtrack. You? Lost? The doctor who blazed through the Survey Corps’ ranks, making her demands known to the Interior and Erwin like it was no big deal, who pushed for changes to save soldiers' lives?

That doesn’t align with the person he knows.

“I don’t think it’s right anymore, the path I chose.” Your tone is suddenly more frail, more vulnerable. “The first three years after the Rumbling, it felt like the right thing to do, giving my skills in helping others but now… Now I feel like a fraud. To arrive here, I had to end lives.”

Levi’s throat is heavy. “We all did.”

You ignore his words. “The attack in Trost, the one in Liberio, and so many others…. I killed people there. I did. And I remember your words, Levi, about it being us or them but I… now, whenever I look at my hands, all I see is the stain of blood. After all of that, I just don’t think I’m fit to call myself a doctor anymore.”

“You shouldn’t regret the past.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Is that why you’re now calling yourself Miss Adler?”

You nod.

Levi purses his lips. He cannot understand your perspective, not truly, because his own moral compass has never been set right. To him, killing was always about survival and there was never good or bad. There simply was the act and the aftermath. There was the fact that he needed to keep on pushing, for humanity.

Despite this, Levi wants to understand. He wants to tell you that your hands did heal, that they continue to heal in invisible ways.

He wants to tell you that however you want to become want, it’s all fine to him.

“Then start over,” he declares, throwing an arm to the back of the bench.

“Yeah.” You snort, fiddling with a loose strand of fabric of your overalls. “It’s not that easy, starting over, is it?”

“Never said it was.” Levi would know. It’s not like he’s here to preach the moral high ground—he’s lost, much more lost than you are. “But if you want to, you’re the only one that can make it happen.”

“Yeah, I know.” You raise a hand to press against your right eye. Levi has the strange urge to tuck it away, to take it in between his own, but he holds himself back. “It’s just… hard. You know, when we were fighting titans, then humans, then nations… I just never considered who I would be after all of it. And when I found myself trying, I found I wasn’t the person I once was, that I couldn’t do what I would have done any more. You know?”

“Yeah.”

“Old me would have kept on going. Old me would have continued to heal people and traveled and helped Armin with peace negotiations. And I tried. Walls, I tried, Levi. But at the end of the day, I just find myself… tired. I’m just so tired.”

Something heavy fills Levi’s chest. He understands, to a degree, what you’re going through. He knew his role was over the moment that the fighting stopped, but for you, the war hasn’t stopped raging—conflicted on where your place should be.

“Sorry," you say, "I know I’m wallowing here, that I’m throwing my own pity party. But, shit, it’s hard, you know?”

“Yeah.” Levi hardens his expression. “But it’s fine, to wallow. No one expects you not to have setbacks.”

“You don’t mean that. Weren’t you always telling soldiers not to linger and look back? Besides, I don’t get to say any of this in front of you. Not with everything you went through.”

Levi’s jaw clenches. “Hey. It’s not a competition.”

This time, he reaches for your hand and unclasps it, noticing you digging your nails into your skin. He forces you to squeeze his hand instead—only, now, you treat him with such care, not even applying pressure.

He continues, “I only said what I said because a Scout’s life was a battlefield every day. But we’re not soldiers anymore.”

Levi sucks in a breath at those words; it’s the first time he acknowledges it out loud: We're not soldiers anymore. He’s a hypocrite, saying these things, when he himself hasn’t let go completely. And yet, for your sake, he wants to pretend—he wants to pretend that there’s a way out for the both of you.

“So I’ve told you, the offer still stands," he adds. "You can stay here for as long as you want."

“Careful what you promise, Levi." You snort. "I’m going to be a real burden to you.”

“Only when you don’t clean.”

Your weak snicker turns into laughter. It might be the most enchanting of sounds Levi’s heard in a long while.

Levi lets go of your hand, despite the fact that he wishes he could hold on, but he tells himself that friends don’t hold each other’s hands for prolonged moments. And that's what the two of you are. Friends.

“You know, when it came down to it… after months of introspection,” you say, voice soft, “all I knew is that I wanted to be near you.”

Oh.

“I stayed away for a year, thinking I could prove to myself, to you, that I wasn’t the needy person I once was," you say. "That I could, I don’t know, manage on my own. But all I got was… how much I missed you.”

Levi thinks his breathing might have stopped entirely.

“Levi, you’re… you’re important to me. You know that, right?” Your eyes find his own, glimmering under the moonlight. “I think… I just don’t want to not have you in my life anymore. Is that a strange thing to say?”

Levi is speechless. He stares at your lips, how plump and lovely they seem, glistening with moisture. He feels sweat on his back—damn this hellish warm weather—and he thinks perhaps he should act.

He forces his mouth open but instead of words—

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

An explosion blasts in his ears.

Levi screws his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impact. There’s screams echoing in the back of his skull, bullets ricocheting against concrete. He smells the charred scent of bodies, sweet and off-putting.

But the fighting never comes. When he evens out his breathing, leaning his weight onto the bench, he notices—

You’re on the floor.

Your hands are covering your ears, your lower lip wobbling. You’re muttering things under your breath, things Levi can’t recognize, but there’s tears brimming the corner of your eyes, and Levi realizes then what happened.

You’re hyperventilating.

At once, Levi is by your side, bending down. The action causes his legs to scream in pain, but he promptly ignores it. He sees you and only you.

You, on the other hand, are unable to look at him; you whimper erratically.

Levi can deduce the source of your panic, because he’s had his own moments like this. It’s the way certain noises, smells, and others pull him back into the past. It must be the same for you.

“Hey,” Levi’s voice comes low and clear, trying to muster it all for you, “take a deep breath. It's not guns. Just fireworks some teenagers are toying with.”

But you seem unable to follow his advice, shaken as you are. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears clumping, streaming thick down the valleys of your cheeks. He sees your fingers pull at the strands of your hair.

Before he can think about it, his arms reach out of you, looping around the small of your back, where he draws you in. He presses you firmly against him. At first, you attempt to fight him back, muttering “no, no, no,” beneath your breath, scratching him, but when Levi finally manages to smooth over your words with his own, you accept the embrace.

Your head slumps down into the crest of his shoulder, like you were just a ragdoll gone limp. Levi tries to ignore the way his worry doubles down.

“Adler, listen to my voice,” he urges, trying to use things that have helped him during his worst panic attacks, during his worst episodes. Of course, Levi never allowed anyone to see him like this, but if he had, he thinks this would have helped. “Your ear’s pressed against my heart right now. Do you hear my heartbeat?”

“Y-yeah,” you answer, voice barely a raw whisper. The sound is enough to shatter something in Levi. It’s so small, so fragile.

“Focus on it," he says. "Focus on me speaking. Pretend that it’s the only sound in the world.”

You seem to attempt to laugh, but it comes across as another nervous sob, hiccups strangling your words. “S-someone thinks h-ighly of his v-voice.”

Levi just clicks his tongue, tightening his hold on you.

Your hands interweave with the collar of his shirt, and you bury your face deeper into his neck. It takes several moments, but he feels the tension in your spine untangle, vertebrate by vertebrate.

“Steady,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. “You’re alright.”

Your warm lips, drenched with tears, move against his neck. “I just can’t do it, ‘Vi… I just can’t.”

“You can.”

“I’m fucking stuck and I feel so guilty there’s always noises in my brain…” A sob cracks out of you. “I’m so fucking lost.”

“But you’re not alone.”

Your knuckles tighten, but your breath falters.

“You’re not alone,” Levi repeats. His three-fingered hand weaves through the hair at the back of your skull, mingling between your locks. He’s reminded of another time, long ago, when he did this after Nanaba died. “Even if you feel lost right now, you’re not alone.”

“I just—I don’t want to be a bother. I don't want to overstay my w-welcome.”

“You’re not.” His hands have fallen onto your ribcage, slotting over every bone like they were made to belong there all along. “You can stay as long as you want.” Until you grow tired of me. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

You’re still hiccuping for air as you draw away from him. You seem to be searching for something, dazed and blurry.

“Y-you don’t mind?” you ask.

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

"I guess not."

For a while, neither Levi nor you say anything else. He watches as your eyes cast down, eyelashes still full of tears. Your breath is back to being steady, though no less frail.

Eventually, your digits settle over his forearms, looking back at him with puffy eyes.

He offers you his clean handkerchief from his breast pocket. 

You take it with a crooked smile, staring down at the white cloth. “Thank you, Levi. I mean it.”

Levi looks away; he doesn't think he's done much.

“Walls.” You hiccup, lifting the handkerchief to your eyes. “I’ve made a scene, haven’t I? It’s the alcohol, I s-swear. I barely d-drink these days.”

“You were always a lightweight.”

“Pff, don’t remind me.”

“Well, judging by the brats walking towards us," he says, looking over your shoulders, "they’ve come to apologize.”

Sure enough, moments later, as you help Levi up and you both sit back down on the bench, three snotty kids approach the scene with a look of apology plastered on their faces.

One of them, a boy with vibrant ginger hair, takes the lead. “Ma’am… are you alright?”

You sniffle, eyes still red. “Fine—”

“She’s not fine, brat,” Levi interjects. “Don’t light this shit up in public.”

The boy grimaces with the kind of juvenile innocence only kids can muster.

“Don’t listen to him,” you say, giving Levi a look. “But hey, do try to be careful, ‘kay? Don’t light up things like this all on your own. Fireworks are dangerous, not to mention they’re scary when they’re up so close.”

“I... I won't do it no more, ma’am…" the boy says. "I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s alright. You couldn’t have known.”

The boy nods before finally fleeting up and meeting Levi's glare. The child instantly cowers back.

“Mistakes happen," Levi grumbles with a softer tone. "Just be more careful.”

“Y-yeah, mister. Won’t happen again.”

"Good."

.

.

.

Erwin finds you in the stables one day. “Levi is integrating with the squad.”

You stop cleaning your horse, raising a brow at the man. “Is he now?”

“Mm." There's wistful amusement on the Erwin's face. "He's started giving advice to his comrades.”

"Is that right?"

That night, when you greet Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary, you don't say a thing about this exchange, but you'll smile just a bit brighter at him anyway. 

.

.

.

Levi comes back from his evening shower to find something waiting for him in his bedroom. A piece of paper, carefully folded in three, is placed on his cabinet. Next to it is a medium-sized, black pouch.

Levi first unfolds the piece of paper, unsurprised to find that it’s a letter and that it’s from you.

Levi, You’ll excuse me for coming in without asking, but you insinuated I should make myself comfortable, so… Here I am. You know, if you're going to let me pay for things, then it’s decided: I’m going to bribe you with new tea! No, you can’t fight me on that. As you know, I’m a force of nature—unstoppable. Here’s a new blend for you. I know for certain you haven’t tried this one because it’s straight from my travels. I don’t know why I waited a week to give it to you, but I hope you like it. Your amazing new roomie,- A.

Levi’s lips twitch. He can just picture you scribbling those words in your room, a grin on your face, waiting for him to take a shower just so you can place this handout in secret.

He briefly puts the letter back down, moving to open the gift. The black pouch hides a tea tin of simple design, with an etiquette that’s handwritten. White pu-erh tea. He slowly unscrews the sealed top, bringing it close to his nose to inhale its potent fragrant. Tea aromas, rich in citrus, fill his brain with a lovely buzzing effect. It smells nice, unlike anything he’s encountered before and Levi thinks its taste will be to his liking—that you picked it knowing it would.

His eyes stray back to the letter, picking it back up. He loves the way you write his name, the way you loop the letters together. It's elegant.

With his heart just a bit lighter than usual, Levi adds your letter to the chest under his bed, filled with the rest of your correspondence.

-

A/N: Thanks for reading! I was really touched by all the engagement the first chapter got, truly, so thank you for that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and hey, if you have a minute, I'd love to hear your thoughts in any shape or form! Take care <3

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

[screampied]

READER NEEDS TO TAKE THAT (t) FUSHIGURO VIRGINITY I NEEEEEEED IT 😭🙏🏽 - 🧟

LOOK AT MY PROGRESS :D im crying i only wrote one sentence pls. WHOS WINNING THE POLLLLL 🕴️maybe he’ll make an appearance soon if he wins🫡

[heartstringsbloom]

It’s midnight. The V8 Cafe is closed to everyone except Radiator Springs’ own. Flo sits in a booth near the back, out of her work apron and chatting with Ramone over tea. Lightning leans against her, head on her shoulder, wearing Doc’s old Fabulous Hudson Hornet jacket. It’s definitely a couple sizes too big, but he’s warm and Flo is running gentle fingers through his hair and he’s trying very hard not to fall asleep because it’s movie night and he’s sleeping over at Flo and Ramone’s.

They decide on Beauty and The Beast and Ramone has to run by Doc’s for Lightning’s inhaler but Doc says it’s at the Cozy Cone. By the time he gets back to the cafe Sally’s already dropped it off, bundled in her fluffy blue slippers and McQueen’s dinosaur robe that she refuses to give back. He tells her good luck prying her sleeping mask from his sticky little fingers. She gets on one knee and plants a kiss on said fingers, McQueen swoons, calls her a gorgeous sap, and Flo and Ramone share a knowing look but even they can’t tell if the two are best friends or more

They invite her to movie night but she declines because she has a case to look over, but thanks them anyway, smiling at Flo and Ramone and sticking her tongue out at McQueen who blows a kiss

Later that night Lightning is rambling about how Harv has him booked for, like, three interviews back to back and all with different people, and Flo shakes her head sympathetically as she combs his hair, wondering when he last combed it out because he’s got knots like she’s never seen before. She has to pull one apart with her nails and he winces, she apologizes, but he keeps talking and she can’t help but smile in amusement

They leave together the next morning for work, Ramone’s already at his shop, and they settle into their routine at the cafe. They work together as if they have their whole lives, cracking jokes across the diner and trading off plates for this table or that. There’s an order for pancakes and they notice at the same time that they’re out of eggs, so McQueen is like “oh I’ll get Harv to send some stuff over” and Flo just raises an eyebrow and says they’re going grocery shopping

The next day she lets McQueen wander around while she fills the cart and he comes back with arms full of candy, soda bottles, cookies, and any other sweet he can get his hands on

She’s trying not to laugh and lets him get *one* thing, wonders when she started being the one to give him permission for anything, and he pouts but tosses the cookies in the cart and puts everything else back as if he doesn’t have his own bank account

The kid has one heck of a sweet tooth, always with a lollipop in his mouth or a sweet beverage at the cafe. He also doesn’t eat enough veggies because Doc has to sneak them into his food, Flo learns

Sally managed to get him to drink kale smoothies, convinced him kale was a fruit, and McQueen slurps them up even if they are a little bitter

Strangely he’ll tear up a salad, as long as it’s drenched in salad dressing and cheese, so Flo makes sure to add them to his meals at the V8

The three work together as the Make Sure McQueen Eats His Veggies Club

[abalathia]

[strayheartless]

When you go quiet I hate myself:

**title credit to Dodie Clark’s song “hate myself”**

*****

Wanting to be left alone was all fun and games until you didn’t want to be alone anymore. Cloud knew this intimately. Being alone meant safety. It meant there was no possible way he could say the wrong thing, or be too blunt. He couldn’t upset someone with his resting face, nor could he make someone cry by telling them he really didn’t care.

He didn’t do it to be mean. He did it to be honest. Kindness wasn’t a foreign concept to him, but it was hard to master. Nobody gave you a book on how not to be an asshole. Nobody told you “hey, here’s all the rules you need to know in order to survive social interaction!”

No, you were simply thrust into it, naked and newborn and you just had to cope. He understood survival of the fittest, but he was not the fittest and he sure as shit wasn’t surviving. He just… was.

Maybe he’s feeling like this because it’s the first time Zack has been away since they started being friends. Maybe it’s because everyone else in the barracks went out for a drink and he hadn’t been invited. Regardless of the fact that he would have said no… he still felt the tang of rejection like breathing in air freshener just after it’s been sprayed. Nasty and bitter but oddly exactly like it smells.

He’d been asked before and he’d always said no. Of course they would stop asking eventually. It was just common sense. He’d done this to himself. He was the reason he currently felt so cripplingly alone. He just had to suck it up and get on with it.

Cloud rolls over and checks his phone again. Nothing.

Zack had said that he wasn’t likely to be on a non contact mission but so far it had been radio silence from the one person who always met Cloud in the middle. It was killing him, and he knew why… he just wasn’t willing to admit it yet.

Zack had given him his girlfriends number. He’d said she would be happy to keep him company while he was away. He’d said she had been keen to meet him even.

Zack was an oblivious fool.

Cloud was sure Aerith was quite lovely. Zack painted her to be Midgar’s sweetheart, and Clouds sure she was just fine… but he was also sure he’d be rude to her on purpose. All because she had the one thing he wanted and that wasn’t fair to her.

It wasn’t Aerith’s fault Cloud fell in love with someone so out of bounds it was ridiculous. Dark hair, exceedingly kind, willing to put up with his moody bullshit? Yeah Cloud was aware he had a type.

That type just happened to always be off limits. With Tifa it had been the fact that she was the towns only girl and therefore she was hoarded like gold by the boys she played with and the parents who had labelled him a problem. With Zack it was because he was straight and an idiot.

A gorgeous idiot… but an idiot never the less.

Zack had given Cloud a colour pallet with which to paint the world by and Cloud had realised too late that he could only access it when Zack was here. Being friends was fine, but the never ending torture of hearing him be in love was maddening. The constant reminder from everyone around him that he was terribly, awfully, chronically, terminally alone was agony.

But Cloud liked being alone, he always had. Being alone meant nobody could hate you for being you. Being alone meant that you controlled the quiet and the game and the rate at which things happened to you.

Being alone meant deafening silence and the knowledge that you still felt like a fucking child.

He’s aware he’s only twenty one. He’s aware that there will be time for relationships and life plans and families if he wants one.

He’s also aware that Denny in dorm C had just had a baby with his girlfriend. That Kai in his dorm had asked his girl to marry him. He was aware that people were sleeping with eachother casually and that even the underground queer community within the troops were going to the honey bee on weekends for drag shows and mixers.

He knows that he’d bypassed the pride parade for three years now because that many people all making noise in bright colours was Clouds idea of actual hell. He’s aware that even being bisexual, he’s still on the outside of the crowd. He’s never known what the in crowd looks like and he thought it was fine.

But now he aches. He aches so much he feels physically paralysed by it. Lying in his bunk staring at his phone and begging Zack to just… send a thumbs up. Anything to let him know he’s at least important enough to warrant remembering.

The phone stays silent.

Cloud pushes it off of the bed and turns over.

He pulls the covers over his head and feels the need to cry but it won’t happen. It never does.

He slams his head back on the matress, but it doesn’t hurt or even make him feel better. So he growls in fustration, shoves his head under his pillow and digs his nails into his scalp.

He tries to sleep but it is disturbed and full of anxiety and pain. Eventually he just pretends with his eyes closed and his head stuffy and numb.

He doesn’t see the text flash through from Zack. He doesn’t know that Aerith is wondering if she should make the first move.

‘Hi buddy, miss you tons. Gonna be back in a few days. How are you? Aerith said you haven’t text? No pressure man, I just worry your isolating yourself again. Call me when you see this?’

[roe-and-memory]

lightning and his struggle with emotions save me….

those feelings of inadequacy that suffocate his every thought, that fear that if he messes up — acts in a way that nobody wants him to — then he’ll lose everything.. and how, for a little while, all those feelings carry over to radiator springs (maybe they even stick around for the rest of his life)

i cant see lightning as much of a crier, he doesnt seem like the type to want to express those emotions, especially in front of people, and thinking about this concept in the context of radiator springs is sooo…

hes finally got those people that love him and hes so terrified that if he makes one wrong move, says one wrong word, then they’ll kick him to the curb and he’ll be alone again that he just. Stiffles. these feelings.

for a while no one really notices, but flo is the first one to realize she’s never seen him in any negative mood aside from anger like.. ever? she tries to brush it off, make an excuse in her mind for him, but the more she tries to neglect it the more obvious it becomes that he’s purposely hiding his feelings from them and she cant figure out, for the life of her, why. she mentions it to doc, asks him quietly if hes ever seen or heard lightning cry, and the silent pondering from the man is enough to tell her that he Hasnt.

she doesnt wanna be nosy, but shes so concerned because she KNOWS there has to have been something thats upset him in his time here, he just hasnt expressed it to anyone…

but imagine her shock, three months into lightnings life in the town, he comes into the cafe on the brink of tears with scraped shins, blood staining his now torn jeans, and a glimmer of fear in his eyes.

he apologizes to her, sits down in a booth — seemingly not realizing hes wiping blood everywhere — and buries his face in his crossed arms that are resting on the tabletop. its the first time flo has seen him look this scared, and it brings up those thoughts of how long he’s been hiding these emotions from everyone. she watches from behind the counter, a half dried bowl in her hand as she finally catches the slight trembling of his shoulders and her heart just Breaks.

lightning had nowhere else to go for this — docs clinic was closed and doc himself was at home, sally was at home, Everyone was at Home — so the best idea he could come up with was hiding at flos in an attempt to get away from everyone else because when the string of events that went wrong occurred, he Knew then it was that final straw that was gonna rip the carpet out from underneath him and bring him to exhausted, overstimulated tears.

i think at some point flo stops what shes doing, studies the empty cafe, and abandons her dishes to sit down at the table with him. she scooches into the booth beside him and rubs gentle circles on his back like a mom would, and, unbeknownst to her, that just makes him sob harder.

part of her is happy that hes feeling this, but oh Boy, that mom part of her is genuinely heartbroken for him. she doesnt know what happened but she can safely assume hes in pain and startled, and she knows shes willing to sit here for as long as she needs to make sure he feels safe and comfortable again, even if it means keeping these tears a secret from people like doc and sally at lightnings request.