#snk smu

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter 18.*

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 5.6k Summary: flashback eight - also known as your first time with levi ackerman Warnings: NSFW!! MINORS DNI - first time, oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), fingering, body worship, pinning, dirty talk, praise kink, multiple orgasms, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends), smut w/feelings

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CHAPTER 18 - FLASHBACK: EIGHT*

He doesn’t stop kissing you.

Not when you both stand up in the empty supply room. Not when you stumble blindly into the hallway, cutting corners and trusting his guidance.

Two pairs of boots scramble as quietly as they can down a long, dark corridor, rushing to disappear from plain sight.

Gently Levi presses you into something sturdy and cold, lips still locked with yours. The captain's hands fumble from your waist to his pockets, digging to search for a key that will unlock his bedroom door.

All that remains in the silence are soft pants, controlled with the worry that someone — several someones —  can ruin this moment.

His kisses are open-mouthed and messy as he travels from your mouth, to your jaw, to your neck. You bend your head back with the utmost care, pressing your own lips together to avoid the noises of pleasure bubbling in your throat.

He presses a final peck at the center of your neck, as if to thank you for being so quiet once the key is freed from his pocket — and the door clicks.

Quickly Levi shoves the door open and circles his free arm around the small of your back, keeping you flush against his body. You comply, dancing through the threshold of his bedroom, and cradle his face into your palms to bring his lips back to yours.

Nothing has to be said.

Nothing has to be asked.

It’s just instinct — your feet drag backwards while his push forward into the bedroom, bringing you both safely out of the wandering eyes of the Survey Corps.

His boot swivels, causing you both to turn at his will. Your back hits a door once again, and you can’t help but laugh into the kiss. 

“Shhh,” he urges as he backs away to catch his breath. "Can you stay quiet for me?"

Click.

You grin the second the door locks behind you and whisper back. “Haven’t I always?”

His eyes open. Those brilliant gray eyes with specs of blue, intense and so focused; his pupils are blown — caught somewhere in the dark and the fierce arousal you both feel.

“Don’t get smart,” he tells you, but you know it’s about as much of a joke as he can make in the moment.

You don’t even realize until he dips his head that he’s worked on unbuttoning nearly half of your Scout uniform shirt, exposing your chest band and torso to the cool night air.

“Levi—”

His teeth nip at your collarbone. “Silent.”

The order does something to you — a vacant authority that comes with little punishment. He won’t stop unless he’s forced to or unless you ask, and there’s no circumstance in Hell where you would.

You press your lips together again, willing your eyes to stay open, to see Levi work his way to kiss every inch of your neck, your collarbone, your sternum.

You want him to cover every inch of you, leaving no patch of skin untouched. You want every part of your body to be his.

Dropping your hands from his face, you begin to push the small brown uniform skirt from your hips to drop to the floor. The fabric gives easily. It's the damn leather ODM straps that become your greatest enemy, refusing to release when you struggle with the fastens.

At first you think Levi doesn’t notice the struggle. He’s so busy running his hands along your sides, slipping the tips of his fingers past your button-down to finally touch skin.

But then his hands leave you.

You almost speak up to protest, but—

“Let me.”

He looks you in the eye for permission.

You stare back, wide-eyed and confused.

“What?”

“I said,” he slowly repeats, moving closer, “let me.”

Inch by inch, Levi disappears from your line of sight and down your chest, your stomach, until he’s eye-level with the elaborate belts looping your thighs.

Oh.

Your breath exhales in a sharp twist at the sight of his slender fingers running along the brown leather, feeling for where the buckle begins and the straps meet.

For a moment he stays right here, dragging his fingertips back and forth. 

Contemplating. Savoring.

Your face flushes when he leans in to press a ghostly kiss to the meat of your thigh between the straps. His pink lips are a stark contrast to the white fabric.

It's much too erotic to bear.

“I might fall,” you warn him softly.

“I’d catch you,” he promises right back.

You believe him.

(You’ll always believe him.)

Expertly he unravels the first group of leather straps, relieving your thighs of the pressure from such elaborate crossings. Levi makes it a point to drag the straps down your leg himself, not allowing the straps to hit the floor on their own to eliminate any potential noise.

Eager fingertips seek fast work on the other.

“Hold onto me if you feel unsteady,” he murmurs, briefly looking up to you as he starts on your right thigh.

Then you realize all too late — he has no intentions to return from his knees.

He's staying right there on the floor.

You know what he plans to do once he rids you of your trousers, and it shoots an otherworldly feeling to your lower belly.

“Levi?” you whisper sharply.

He doesn’t answer. Instead he works faster to remove the straps, tugging them down your leg to meet the left set.

“Levi—”

He only glances up once he's through with dismantling the strap belt. You press a hand to his when it moves towards the button of your ivory trousers, forcing him to stop.

“Something wrong?” he asks reluctantly, fingers still pinched against the button — subconsciously begging to get rid of his godforsaken clothing.

You swallow to coat your throat, looking down at him.

“No, it’s just… You don’t have to—”

Do that, you want to say.

Yet you pause as soon as Levi flashes a warning glare to you, like you’ve insulted him. 

“Three."

Your brows knit. “...what?”

He purposefully pops the buttons of your trousers to challenge your insecurity. 

“I once told you when we had our own place, I always said I’d give you three. This is about as good as we’ll ever get while we’re alive.”

You blink in a flurry but relent with the sway of your hips when his fingertips tap at your outer thigh: move.

Slowly but surely, your white trousers glide down your thighs, your knees, until they rest at the soles of your boots.

You kick one off then the other, never breaking eye contact.

“My fingers have been inside you more times than I can count,” he murmurs, kissing the bare skin of your thigh with a relaxed inhale through his nose, drinking in the scent of you. You press a hand against the doorframe for stability. “But I have to know what you taste like.”

The words shoot arousal like a bolt of lightning through your body.

“But you’ve already—”

“On my fingers, yeah, but not on my tongue,” he argues breathlessly, shaking his head. “Not the same.”

Another bolt, sliced straight to your core.

“Levi—”

“And once I memorize that,” he continues, not paying attention to you as he presses gentle yet urgent kisses to the east, closing in on your inner thigh. He coaxes your leg with the soft push of his free hand, spreading your thighs just for him. “And only once I memorize that, I’ll…”

He trails off, deciding against his words as he realizes that, when his back is straightened, he is eye-level at your underwear.

The black-haired man reaches for your hip, drawing a semicircle with his thumb at your hip bone.

Stalling — not for himself, but for you, in case there is a sliver of a doubt about this.

You answer by shifting your weight on your other leg, spreading your thighs further for him. The dark-haired man lets out an exhale like you’ve punched him square in the gut, gaze flickering to yours — message received.

Levi leans forward, nuzzling your inner thigh with his cheek. You tense, forcing yourself to watch his head turn inwards to kiss the softness. His eyes flutter close like he’s found his paradise, like the very venture of traveling up your thigh with every kiss gives him relief.

The tip of his tongue sensually flicks at the edge of your underwear, and your hand grips his hair with quick surprise. 

One tug and he’s smirking, open-mouthed and simply intoxicated, with hot breath gliding across the thin fabric.

He kisses the center of your mound over your underwear, and you both make a noise of want.

His tongue darts back out, catching the wetness that has dampened the fabric. In one fell swoop he yanks your underwear down, like one taste is enough to relinquish all doubt.

You barely remember your own name when he parts your folds with his thumbs and dives in like a starving man possessed, collecting the wetness against his nose as his tongue slides through your folds to find the one spot he knows will have you buckling at the knees.

For someone who has never done this before, Levi is thorough. He notes every which way you drag your nails through his hair, scratching at his scalp; how you make a small gasp if he hits a spot that jolts pure pleasure through your system; when your thighs tremble, so he does not relent.

You have to practically break your own vocal chords to avoid shouting when his tongue flicks your clit. Your hand tightens painfully in his hair, but he grunts and keeps going.

Levi swirls his tongue with a relentless determination. Like he’s been waiting for this moment, like he’s dreamed of tasting and teasing you — and you have to do everything in your power not to falter in your stance.

The frame of his bedroom door only has so much support.

Your head drops back against the wooden slab as he licks, sucks, and worships you while kneeling in front of you. His attention focuses on your clit, tongue flicking at an obscene rhythm. 

If you look down, you’ll come. 

If you watch him, you’ll fall.

So instead your jaw drops in a wordless plea, and he sucks against the sensitive nub in response. You hear the leather beneath you shuffle and his hands leave your core, running along your thighs, to hold your hips flush to the door.

He knows — know you’re getting there, from the way you’re squirming.

You didn’t even notice. You were too lost in the sensation.

Your eyes slide open, heavy-lidded and dark with lust, to see Levi lost in eating you out, his mouth buried against you, eyes closed in serene desire.

That’s all it takes.

“Levi—” you breathe, higher pitched than usual. “Levi, Levi, Le—”

You can’t finish the next syllable before your knees buckle, and he shoves you hard against the door to keep you steady — to make you ride this out on his tongue. The surface rattles only just a little from impact.

Your climax hits like a ton of bricks, and you force yourself to wordlessly cry out from the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your system.

His gray eyes glance up from your core, tongue still attacking your clit before he drags lower, catching your essence with his mouth.

Drinking you down to the very last drop.

When it becomes too much, you thrash a little against his hold.

He pulls away to catch his breath, lips slick and swollen from his work. He looks…

Satisfied. Eager.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, and he chuckles under his breath.

Slowly he gets off the floor, uniform creaking in the silence of the night. When you start to dip lower, to return the favor, he pushes you back into the door by the shoulder and shakes his head.

“I wasn’t done with you,” he says, voice a mere husk of itself.

You can smell the faint scent of yourself on his breath when he leans in, his hip pressing to yours. He’s hard as a rock.

“Levi,” you whimper when his hand returns to your inner thigh. “I wanna take care of you—”

“That can wait,” he interrupts, before placing his left hand over your mouth. Your eyes widen with confusion, but when his right hand disappears between your legs to collect more wetness, you understand why. 

You yelp into his palm when he circles your sensitive clit with his thumb.

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” he purrs in your ear, voice low. “I know you're sensitive, I know, but you can do it.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head when his fingers glide through your wet folds to tease your entrance. Yet you open up to him like a flower, spreading your legs further to give him more room to work with. You feel his lips curl upward against your earlobe.

“C’mon, James.” 

A strangled, pathetic little whimper exits your mouth when his middle finger pushes into your, up to the knuckle, slowly massaging against your inner walls. 

“How’d you like it again? Two fingers? Three?”

You feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven with the filth coming out of his mouth. It isn’t even overtly lewd, but the sheer baritone of his voice in your ear is only making it that much easier to fight through the oversensitivity.

He adds his index finger and you whine.

“Right — you like two,” Levi remembers, “and you usually don’t last long if I—”

Your body goes limp, giving into his work when his fingers curl and tap the little spot that always gives him what he wants. He fingers you, shallow in his movements as he keeps curling the two, allowing the heel of his palm to rub against your aching clit.

“There she is,” he encourages. “There’s my girl.”

If you weren’t so turned on, you’d be mortified at how easily he works you to ruin.

“Does it feel good?”

You make a noise against his hand and nod eagerly, and he laughs gently in your ear. 

“Good.”

You let him play you like a well-loved instrument, his movements relentless and certain. The rhythm is one he’s perfected, and you know — you know he’ll get what he wants in a matter of minutes.

You’re already sensitive from the first orgasm. A second won’t take long.

He continues to murmur sweet nothings in your ear — praises laced with your first name, how much he loves watching you like this — and you know you’re no match for him.

Your walls clench around him and soon enough you tumble, dropping your forehead to his shoulder as you tremble through your second climax of the night. 

You feel weightless in the moment, a finite speck of dust in space, surrounded by the scent of your friend, your partner, your lover —

For a moment, the outside world doesn’t exist.

He finally removes his palm from your mouth to kiss you gently on the lips, and you’re awoken with the realization that you still taste yourself.

Your eyes open to find him watching you, making sure you’re okay.

You’re more than okay.

You let your body take over, wants over needs, and your hands push him roughly from you.

The captain stumbles in surprise. His gray eyes betray his shock, wide and confused, until he trips and falls back on the bed in the middle of the small room. The mattress gently creaks under his weight.

Before he can protest, you drop to your knees on the small rug at the edge of the bed.

“James—”

“Shut up,” you breathe, rising to grab his belt. 

Hastily, you rip it from the trouser loops. You're not as elegant at pulling off the leather straps as he is, but they come off all the same.

Levi sits up on the mattress, pushing wayward strands of hair from your face.

“James, wait, you don’t have to—”

“Ackerman.”

You stare up at him, only then realizing just how hard he is. He must hurt from the way the outline of his cock presses, strains, against the white fabric of his trousers.

“I’ve been dying to taste you, too, you know. And you’ve never let me before, so I'm asking now: let me.”

All of the air leaves his lungs, and a shell of Levi Ackerman remains above you.

His eyes are wide as saucers, trying to justify the sight of you on his knees in front of him.

He doesn’t stop you when you unbutton his uniform. He doesn’t move when you lean in to kiss the bare skin of his abdomen. 

“Shit. If you do this—” he starts, finding his breath, “—I’m sure as fuck not going to last.”

“Your confidence in me is guaranteed to inflate my ego,” you tease, pushing at his side. “C’mon. Lay back. Let me.”

Levi moves a fraction of muscle, but then he shakes his head. He lifts his hips, and to your delight he helps you remove his boxer briefs and trousers in one fell swoop. His cock springs free, achingly hard and twitching for attention.

“No,” he protests, “I want to watch.”

You brighten with delight, scooting closer. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yes,” he breathes. “Are you insane?”

You can’t help but giggle when your hand reaches to wrap around his length, careful not to hurt him. His knuckles turn white as he tightens his fists against his white sheets.

Truth be told, you’ve had your hands on Levi numerous times. You know what speed he likes. You know the pressure.

What you don’t know, however, is this: how to expertly get him off with your mouth, not in the way he so easily brought you to ruin.

Still, you stare up at him as you steady his cock and lick a stripe from bottom to top — flat against his shaft, traveling to the tip.

You’ve never seen Levi look so speechless by something so small.

“Oh, fu-uck,” he curses under his breath, a curtain of his hair hanging against his forehead as he forces himself to keep his eyes on your mouth.

His own goes slack, lips parted, and a flush peppers his pale cheeks.

It instill confidence, so you lick again, focusing your tongue on the tip of him. He tastes clean, like nothing really in particular, besides a tinge of saltiness.

But it isn’t until you close your mouth gently over the head of his cock that he loses himself. His bare thighs tremble as you work his length with your hand while your mouth gets used to a shallow bob, focusing primarily on his tip.

His voice disappears. His breaths are tighter and a little higher pitched than before. Cracked.

“Shit,” he croaks when you hollow your cheeks around him. “Fuck, James, shit—”

You feel powerful like this.

You get why he was so determined to put his mouth on you now.

You want to memorize this version of Levi Ackerman — so put together for the rest of the world, only to fall apart by every movement of your tongue.

“Stop.”

It’s barely a word, but you catch it within a few seconds.

You remove him from your mouth with a lewd pop, worried you might have used teeth or hurt him.

Levi has a hand on your shoulder to keep you from returning to his cock.

“I almost came,” he explains, embarrassed by his admission.

“What? But I didn’t—” You stop yourself, surprised. “I barely did anything.”

“Yeah, dipshit,” Levi under his breath, trying to catch it. “You think I need more than the image of your lips around my cock to do it for me?”

“Oh.” You wipe your lips, before smiling wickedly. “...I’m that good, huh?”

“Get the hell up here,” Levi demands, pulling you up from your armpits so he can toss you onto the mattress.

You laugh into the night air as he shifts, pressing his weight against you as he cradles his elbows around your head, caging you in.

Skin to skin.

The night's significance isn’t lost on you — lying in a king-sized bed, naked, with Levi Ackerman. To think you both used to squeeze on a twin mattress for the sake of falling asleep together. To think neither of you had ever witnessed each other’s bodies in full, clothes discarded all over the floor of his captain’s quarters.

He hovers over you, his hair framing his face in a darkened halo. You stare up at him, admiring the sweat pebbling across his forehead.

The faint glow of the moon is your only source of light; a familiar comfort.

For a few moments you both catch your breath, admiring one another like this. You want to ask. You’re sure he’s going to say no. It’s been the question on your minds for years, but now it’s—

“Do you want to?”

Levi asks first, but he doesn’t shy away from his own nervousness.

You take a moment to make sure he isn’t going to back out, before nodding.

“More than anything.”

An emotion flickers in his eyes as he regards you, before shifting your right thigh with his hand. You easily follow, widening your hips to him. He presses your inner leg to his hip, swallowing.

“I don’t…”

“What?”

Levi closes his eyes, exhaling his anxiety away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your hands reach between your bodies to cradle his face, and he relents immediately to lean his cheek to your palm. “When have you ever hurt me?”

“A couple of times.”

“Fighting doesn’t count.”

“James,” Levi pleads, before opening his eyes. “I’m being serious.”

“So we learn together,” you argue back, raising your chin to kiss the tip of his nose. “And I’ll let you if it hurts, I promise. It’s not like you can rail me with everyone downstairs anyw—”

Levi stops you from your joke with a searing kiss to your lips, pushing your other thigh to the side so he can settle between your legs.

“Don't give me ideas, you little shit," he mumbles against your lips. "Maybe next time."

You smile, running your hands down his neck to rest on his shoulders. "Definitely next time."

For a few minutes, that's all you do. Kiss — kiss him, be kissed, relish and memorize.

The longer he kisses you, the more this becomes real.

Neither of you have ever done this, yet you’ve never felt more ready in your life.

Your body screams to have him, to finally know him, and you hope it’ll be enough — that you will be enough.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” you whisper, and he sits up on his calves for a moment.

“An idea, yeah,” he jokes, reaching into the nearby nightstand. 

You blink, surprised to see him return with a small square packet in hand. The moment almost completely takes you out of your nervousness.

When he notices the way you stare up at him, he cautiously adds: “Regiment issued. Didn’t think I’d ever need to use it, but…”

“Oh,” you breathe, unable to hide the shock. “No, it’s just—”

“They don’t want accidents in the Scouts.”

“Right.”

“And it’s not like people aren’t fucking.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

A beat passes. 

Unable to help yourself, you begin to smirk. “...so you only have one of those, or—?”

Levi rolls his eyes and breaks with you, letting out a huff of a laugh as he swats your knee wider. He rolls the protection down the length of him, careful in his application. 

“If you want to do this again, then I’ll steal a pack.”

“Wow, it really pays to have captain privileges,” you hum sagely, and he quickly crawls back over you to shut you up with a passionate kiss. You happily accept the eager press of his lips to distract you from the way he gently situates a pillow under your lower back, raising your hips to sit flush with his hips.

You both remain like this for a while, kissing your worries away, before something foreign presses up against your entrance. You gasp, breaking the kiss.

Levi stares down at you with kinetic lust.

“...are you sure about this, James?”

Are you?

It isn’t even a question. You've wanted this for years.

You shift your hips, nudging the tip of his cock at your entrance. He sucks in a sharp breath, calming his excitement.

“Never been so sure in my life,” you promise. “I want you.”

Levi pauses, nodding. “If it hurts at all—”

“I know.”

“—because we can stop at any time—”

“Levi Ackerman, please fuck me already.”

Six simple words make his pupils dilate.

His breath tickles your face when he exhales, lining himself up. Although one hand stays steady on his cock to guide himself into you, another reaches for your hand resting parallel to your head on the mattress. His fingers entwine with yours, squeezing with reassurance as he pins you down — I got you.

Then he pushes, and you both gasp in harmony at the sensation.

Slowly, inch by inch, Levi works himself deeper into you. It’s a stretch you’ve never felt in your entire life.

He distracts you once the tip of him is fully inside of you by circling your clit, making you choke on a breath. The pleasure burns, relaxing your body to take him deeper.

Then it happens all at once: he backs up, sliding deliciously against your walls, before pushing forward — bottoming out within you.

Levi’s entire body is so tense as he stills, waiting for you to get used to him. Maybe it’s for himself, too, but you stare up at the ceiling with an unbelievable feeling in your belly:

This is really happening. Levi’s really inside you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, strained.

You wait a moment to adjust, then nod.

“Can I move?”

You nod again, more adamant this time.

The hand holding yours shakes as he rocks his hips, pulling out then pushing back in. There is a noise that bubbles in the back of his throat, like this is the most painfully pleasurable experience of his life, and you use your free hand to drag your nails down his back.

Levi hisses, pushing back into you. “Fuck, you feel so good—”

He continues slowly, getting used to the sensation, the motion, the sounds, the scents.

Not once does he let go of your hand, and you squeeze in return.

You raise your knees to press against his hips, bringing him deeper, and he drops his forehead to your chest. 

He kisses the tiny silver pendant at your sternum.

“More,” you beg.

“Are you sure—”

“Please,” you interrupt.

He swallows to prepare himself and nods against your shoulder.

"Anything you want." He grunts when his hips thrust once more. "Anything, it's yours."

Levi starts to fuck you, the room reverberating with the sound of his efforts and the mixture of gentle moans. He gains more confidence the more noises you make against his temple. Your body arches into the movement as the pain dissipates purely into pleasure.

You hold onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist in a way that drives him insane. You can tell solely by the way he praises you in sharp huffs, lost in the moment. 

He raises his head to capture your lips in a messy kiss, thrusting into you like his life depends on it.

You hold on, moving against him as you try to remember to breathe.

"Fuck—"

He pulls away to catch his breath with a curse, eyes still closed.

“—I love you.”

You momentarily freeze as Levi keeps going, the muscles of his arms and back tensing every time his hips snap up and into you.

Your eyes snap open, watching his face screw together in the faint glow of the moon.

You know you didn’t imagine that.

You know he just said those words.

Every fiber of your body burns brighter, hotter, at three little words.

You hold him closer to yourself, moving against him as he thrusts, realizing at that very moment the three words you’d been searching to say your entire life to him.

To the boy you shared bread with in the tavern.

To the teen who stole your first kiss on your birthday.

To the man who makes love to you now after you both defied all odds and survived the harshest winters and the searing summers and everything in-between without giving up.

He is your best friend. He is your partner in crime. 

(He is the other half of your moon, your stars, your life.)

“I love you, too,” you breathe in return.

Levi’s thrusts instantly slow.

Reality crashes down while he opens his gray eyes, the little blue specs around his irises staring down at you with a wordless fear — he realizes, then, what he's said.

And he realizes, too, what you've said back.

That fear melts to pure, unadulterated relief.

You can’t help but smile up at him when he runs a shaking hand over your cheek with such gentleness that you almost want to cry.

“Yeah?” Levi asks.

“Yeah,” you answer. “I do.”

He smiles before snapping his hips against yours. You squeak, and he repositions himself to hit that little spot inside of you that he always seems to catch with his fingers. 

“I love you," he repeats, purposefully this time.

You arch when his fingers reach to circle your clit, unrelenting, as he almost makes you shriek from his efforts. 

"Levi—"

“Fuck, James, I love — I’ve always loved you.”

Levi doesn’t slow down this time.

He watches you squirm and whimper his name as he tells you, over and over, the same three words.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

It’s overwhelming. It’s paradise. 

You feel yourself tightening around his cock, and he groans. 

You won’t be able to last much longer, and you reckon he isn’t far behind either.

His hips stutter, groans getting a fraction louder and more urgent, as he coaxes you through your third and most devastating orgasm yet.

He feels the punishing force that your body clenches around him as you near your release and topples over to keep fucking you to the edge. His fingers maintain the same speed at your clit, a deadly combination, and a deep throb spreads through your entire body when your climax hits.

It's otherworldly. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced in your entire life.

Levi presses a devastating kiss to your lips to drink down the way you cry out his name — and to keep himself from moaning too loud when he finally comes right after you.

His hips stutter, trying to give you everything he has until you fall limp in his arms.

Then you catch him when he slumps, exhausted and spent.

The room is quiet.

The crickets chirp outside the open window.

(It's a singular, precious moment of peace.)

Levi continues to tremble against you, breathing through his nose as he climbs down from the euphoria of what just happened. You want to cry. You want to laugh. You want to hold him and never let go.

His shaking hand reaches for yours blindly, and you meet him in the middle.

One by one, your fingers lace.

After a few minutes, you realize that he's still shaking like a leaf. You kiss his forehead when he gently pulls out of you, only to collapse against your side on the mattress.

"You alright?" you whisper. "You're trembling."

"Yeah," he whispers back, voice light. "Just... give me a minute."

"Okay."

While lying on your sides, Levi moves to pull you against him, forehead to forehead.

You close your eyes, willing the tremors to disappear. Eventually they do, and he relaxes.

"Was that alright?" he murmurs after some time, fingers softly stroking your naked side.

"I've had better," you tease, and it makes him huff out a laugh.

"Yeah? Damn."

You can't help but grin, nuzzling your nose against his. "We're definitely going to need that pack."

"Several," he agrees.

"The whole Scout ration."

"The whole Scout ration?" he repeats with drowsy surprise. "Are you trying to make an honest man out of me?"

"Contraceptives don't make honest men," you reply. "Rings do."

"It kind of looks like of a ring—"

You gasp at his crude joke. "Levi."

Both of you burst into exhausted laughter, intoxicated by what's transpired. You feel high in this afterglow only the poets have ever rightly captured.

The laughter dies, leaving you both to enjoy the time you have left before morning comes.

He runs a ghostly trail down the small of your back with his fingertips. You toy with a lock of his sweat-matted dark hair.

And then,

"Maybe one day," he murmurs.

Your eyes flicker open to watch him rest peacefully beside you.

"Maybe one day what?"

"We can do the real damn thing." He's dozing off. "All the shit everyone else does."

You continue to stare, your expression softening.

"...Ackerman's not the worst last name to have," you tell him.

A tired smile grows on his lips.

He pulls you closer, and you curl around him.

Eventually the two of you fall asleep to the sound of twin beating hearts.

.

author note: oh we are so back. How are we feeling, Levi Nation? (What is their ship name? Jevi? Levames? Jamevi?) I am so grateful for your extremely generous patience, your support, and everything in-between. The reblogs/comments are the fuel that keeps this engine going.

deleted scenes of s.u. // levi's pov #1 :: levi's pov in chapter one during his first conversation with james in the trost hospital.

tag list: @lazylizzy3 @notgoodforlife @sad-darksoul @dailydoseof-love @maliakealoha @nube55 @kateastrophies @blinkingsuns @gomigami @voidszoro @tanyeonn @chishiyasan @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @nomi98 @urfavcelestialangel @milkersonmac @blossomedfloweroflove @carries-blenders-and-stuff @hurtcomfortwhore @ahxiaoshi @littlerequiem @raginginferno267 @sixpennydame @precious-ketchup @michaelaftussy34 @bananananab04 @littlerequiem @satorugojho3 @kawaiteacup

[marsbutterfly]

Annie looks and acts so tough but, when it comes to sex, she is as gentle as a person can be. She will constantly ask if what she is doing feels good or ask for your permission before changing positions. She not only wants you to feel good, but she wants to be the one helping you feel that way. She likes to bury her fingers in your pussy and touch the deepest parts of you only to hear you begging for her.

When it comes to receiving pleasure, she loves to be called a good girl and be told what a good job she is doing. She will be so wet and will make sure you know that it is all for you.

After care sex involves all kinds of cuddles and kisses while lying in bed naked, your hands ghosting above her skin while her head rests on your shoulder.

[seraphdreams]

only you.

✯ pairings - stepbro! marco x fem! reader

contains - (18+ content) stepcest, manipulation, possessive behavior, and dumbification

weeks went by since you and marco had gotten intimate. he’s always loved your company but lately, you preferred to stay with his best friend—jean. yeah, you would always be home by the end of the night, or the next morning, but marco missed you. he missed the feeling of his little sister being around, prancing in his oversized shirts and crowding him like a puppy.

the more often you came home late, the meaner your nii-san got; to the point where he doesn’t even let you sleep in his bed anymore, he’ll send you to the guest room to touch yourself without his help.

so there you sat; on your knees with your hands between your thighs, trying to relieve the pressure in your cunt.

“he’s so mean” you pout to yourself, head hanging low. it’s in that moment when marco decided to walk into your room, a dark aura and presence about him. you perked up, attentive to his actions

as he gets closer to you, he rests his palm on your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your puffy, pouted lips.

“i take good care of you, don’t i? i let you live with me, i buy you anything you want. am i not a good brother?”

his tone was warm yet his words came out cold. your innocent eyes lock onto his, watching as his eyes trail down to your lips then to your chest. the pretty white nightgown clings to your body so snug, illuminating your curves.

“y-you are a good brother!” you start, his eyes returning to look back at yours. “thank you for being so nice to me”. you were back misty eyed and pliant as the anguish you felt previously for your nii-san had faded.

“am i?” he whispered. he leaned in closer to your lips, his words ghosting against them. before you knew it, you were flipped on your back—marco lodged between your legs. he holds the back of your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders so that your back is raised above the bed.

he uses his fingers to push your panties to the side, revealing your plush, wet folds. “marco!” you gasp as his digits run down your slit then up to circle your clit. he takes a moment to gaze at your cunt before pushing two fingers in.

you grip the sheets beneath you as he curls his fingers inside you, using his palm to play with your clit. his pace is brutal and accurate, the way his fingers rub against your sweet spot.

you buck your hips up in hopes of him reaching deeper inside you. the hold he has on your thighs only gets stronger to keep you in place.

“nii-san, please!” you cry out, tears beginning to swell in your eyes as you feel that familiar feeling pool within you. he grows more aggressive with his actions and wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly.

the feeling becomes all too much for your empty little brain. you knew you had gotten your stepbrother upset, but what you really didn’t know, was how possessive he was over you. you continue the rutting of your hips against his fingers that are now deeper within your walls.

with a tug of his hair and a loud moan, you come undone on his fingers.

the look in marco’s eye is indistinguishable, your arousal coating his lips. “jean wouldn’t take care of you like this.” he states in an almost monotonous, deep voice. your face heats up at the mention of jean’s name.

“we’re just friends. i love you and only you, nii-san” you say through panted breaths. marco could see behind your lust ridden lies, he knew you meant different.

“yeah? i believe you. you’re a good girl” he responds, trying not to let his frustration get the better of him. he fidgets with the waistband of his boxers before freeing his aching hard on.

in one swift movement, marco situates you on all fours, your back arched just enough for him to align his cock with your entrance.

you squeak at the stretch when he finally slips in. no matter how prepped you were, you were never prepped enough for him. his hands grab at the soft flesh of your ass, pulling you flush against his hips.

he was painstakingly slow with his motions, as to torture you. each leisurely thrust made you feel every inch of him inside your cunt, from the way the veins on his cock stroke against your walls to the way the tip was thicker than the rest of his length.

“please—please fuck me, nii-san”

your voice was muffled against the pillows you held onto but was clear enough for him to hear. “such a dumb little sister. you just wanna be fucked, huh?” marco whispers, leaning into your ear.

your mind becomes blank, only you nodding at his words, hoping he would listen—and he does. he ruts into your cunt harder, keeping a hand on your lower back so you stay arched.

you feel dizzy when his balls come to slap on your clit, adding on to the pressure. whimpers and whines tumble from your lips and his vigorous pace matched with his hard, deep thrusts, only make it worse.

“marco!” you cry out. “‘s too much!”

there’s a sly grin on his face when he hears that. his hands come to grip your waist and pull you against him harder.

“no, no. you can take it” he accentuates with each stroke. your legs grow weak underneath him, not wanting to withstand his force. haze starts to fill your mind as the coil in your core begins to tighten.

marco groans at the way your greedy cunt tries to take more and more of him, only edging onto the pleasure he’s feeling. “g’nna cum, please let me cum!” you shriek, gripping onto the bedsheets under you even harder.

he gives you a few more leg-shaking thrusts before you flutter around him, coating the base of his cock in your milky white arousal.

moments later, he floods your walls with sticky ropes of cum. he pulls out his now softening cock before giving you more time to catch your breath.

he grips your ankle, carefully jerking you on your side, watching the way his cum trickles down your thighs then soak the sheets.

“you wouldn’t know what to do without me”

tags - @healpeony @rekiri @fiaficsxo @harmonics0537

[oh-katsuki]

The armin brainrot is real and I want this man to breed me so hard like it would lot so hot carrying his twins😫🤤

Nonnie you WOULD look so hot carrying his twins

tw: breeding, pregnancy, overstimulation

it’s THIRSTday

Armin just absolutely loved watching how full you get of his cum. He loved the way it leaked out of you as your cunt pulsed, loved the way you practically sucked every drop in. It got worse when you became pregnant.

He just couldn’t control himself when you started to show signs, your tummy bulging with his children. You were glowing to him, everything about you had him wanting to stuff you even fuller. Even though it was impossible, he wanted to try and put a triplet in you, or at least make sure that cunt of yours knew whose babies it was carrying.

Armin’d fuck you so ruthlessly once he found out. He’d have you practically folded in half and your knees, avoiding putting pressure on your stomach. He’d watch the way you pussy stretched around him, cum and arousal leaking out of you with each pump.

Armin couldn’t stop, you just felt so good around his cock. He wanted to give you as much as he could, make sure you were so full of him that he was all you could think of. So he’d bend you over or put you in a mating press whenever he could, overstimming his pretty cock until you were so full you couldn’t fit anymore.

[borderlinehannibal]

Hey remember when a bunch of fanfoms had like audio porn blogs? Like homesm//utvoices/smu//tstuckvoices, and whatever the snk and dangan ronpa ones were (undert//ale also had a huge audio community).

Pepperidge farm remembers.