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hansackermanzoe · 2 years ago

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Personalmente creo que Hanji Zöe cometió suicidi0...

Sé que muchas personas no estarán de acuerdo con esto y es entendible, pero antes de comenzar a escribir esto, debo dejar en claro que digo esto desde mi perspectiva personal y es completamente respetable si alguien difiere con mi forma de pensar.

Aclaro que yo interpreto a Hanji cómo un personaje femenino.

Soy Hanji stan (y sé que probablemente no van a creerme por lo que escribiré) y amo el LeviHan. El personaje de Hanji me encanta, la personalidad, el desarrollo que tiene, la decadencia del personaje y la tenacidad que tuvo hasta casi sus últimos momentos son el conjunto de razones por las cuales el personaje me atrapó por completo.

Me he leído todo el manga y visto el anime 2 veces y tengo el mismo punto de vista, Hange Zöe pasó de ser en las primeras temporadas uno de los personajes más alegres y expresivos de la serie a ser uno "vacío" en la última parte y con vacío no me refiero a que esté mal escrito sino a qué sus actitudes, sus expresiones y la forma tan drástica en la que su comportamiento cambio, hace sentir al lector/espectador el vacío que el personaje sentía, la frustración, el estrés, el cansancio, el hartazgo y el dolor que ella sentía.

Y era obvio, alguien normal no sería capaz de soportar tanto, mentalmente hablando, ella ya había cargado con otras cosas mucho antes de ser comandante pero creo que hacer lo que más le gustaba (investigar sobre los titanes) le servía como contrapeso para poder sobrellevar toda la tragedia que ya habia vivido, pero al morir Erwin y pasar todo ese peso de comandar a la legión sobre ella y al tener que olvidarse de el trabajo que tanto le ayudaba a sentirse bien, termino matándola.

En el arco de Shiganshina todos perdieron algo, algunos creen que Levi fue el que más perdió, ya que dejó ir a quien lo guiaba en la vida, pero parecen olvidar que Hanji también perdió a Erwin porque él también era su amigo además de que tuvo que ver la muerte inminente de Moblit frente a sus ojos y vivir con el peso de que él dio su vida por ella, ese día Hanji perdió a dos de los hombres más importantes de su vida y su condena comenzó porque desde ahí se convirtió en comandante de tiempo completo. Y sé que esto no es una competencia de quién sufrió más, pero solo quiero dejar en claro que ella también sufrió y parece que a partir de ahí comenzó a hacerlo en silencio, nunca se le vió volver a exteriorizar sus emociones, nunca se le volvió a ver quejarse sobre algo o emocionarse (excepto en la vista a Marley) y eso creo que también fue una de las razones por la que fue muriendo por dentro. Levi en ese tiempo parecía estar distante con ella, ya no tenía a Moblit que siempre estaba dispuesto a escucharla y cuidarla, ya no tenía Erwin y el único que le quedaba (Levi) tenía sus propios asuntos con los que lidiar, ella no parecía tener la suficiente confianza con nadie más para hablar de todo lo que la estaba ahogando internamente.

Muchos afirman que ella fue la peor comandante que pudo tener la Legión de exploración, que fue una traidora por aliarse con el enemigo, pero yo no creo eso, ella tuvo lidiar con situaciones con las que ningún comandante de la legión había lidiado, literalmente tenían encima a Marley, una nación que les llevaba décadas de ventaja en avances científicos, militares y tecnológicos. Comenzaron a pelear con humanos que querían exterminarlos y que los odiaban por algo que todavía ni siquiera eran capaces de entender del todo. Pese a eso Hanji supo manejar lo mejor que pudo la situación, consiguió llevar nueva tecnología a la isla, consiguió una "tregua" con los restauradores de eldia, intentó acabar con el conflicto de una forma civilizada e inteligente aunque no funcionó, pero a mí punto de vista ella hizo todo lo que estuvo en sus manos, tampoco podía hacer algo imposible, era una simple mujer, humana con virtudes y defectos, inteligente pero nada más y quizás si hubiera tenido el apoyo de alguien más a su lado que la aconsejara, la protegiera y la mantuviera a flote quizás no habría terminado tan mal.

Porque al menos yo, no pude observar que ella tuviera el apoyo firme de alguien, ni siquiera de Levi, quizás sí se unieron más al final porque después de todo ya solo se tenían el uno al otro, pero algo tuvo que suceder para que Hange no le tuviera la suficiente confianza a él para contarle por lo que estaba pasando, el la última temporada se le ve muy mal, estresada, muy cansada, deprimida y sola...

Creo que cuando Eren decidio desaparecer, en Marley, fue un punto donde la poca confianza que Hanji se tenía a sí misma se fue al carajo.

A partir de ahí todo fue aún más en picada para ella, el asesinato de Zackly, la traición de Floch y el surgimiento de los Jeageristas, el "enfrentamiento" que tuvo con Eren en la prisión subterránea, después su fuga y el rapto que sufrió por el pelirrojo, fue demasiado.

Esto es más un HC que algo canon pero siento que mientras Floch la tuvo de rehén, sucedió algo más de lo mostrado, porque si bien la obligó a mirar como Shadis era masacrado por sus propios reclutas solo con el fin de sembrar el miedo en ella, también es cierto que a pesar de el estrés y el miedo que probablemente sentía ella no era una traidora, no creo que de esa forma "tan fácil" hubiera dado a conocer la ubicación de Levi y Zeke, por lo que siento que ese fue otro de los puntos que la hicieron caer.

Aunque creo firmemente que el punto de NO retorno fue la escena del bosque, y no me malinterpreten, si creo que fue una confesión y sí creo que Levi no la rechazó en ningún momento, pero también creo que la respuesta de Levi fue lo que la orilló a decidir Suicid4rs3.

La razón es que según mi propia teoría Hange se encontraba agotada mentalmente y en el punto más hondo de su depresión y la respuesta de él no fue la indicada, creo que debido a lo que ya mencioné una respuesta tan ambigua en una situación como esa no era lo que Hanji necesitaba. A mi propia interpretación ese "Si corremos y nos escondemos que nos queda?" Fue un "No podemos quedarnos aquí ahora, vayamos, peleemos y hablemos cuando todo haya terminado " y el "se que no puedes estar fuera de la acción " era un "Vas a arrepentirte de quedarte aquí y no quiero verte sufrir por eso" , y sé que Han actuaba como su traductor pero en ese momento ella no tenía cabeza para pensar en la profundidad las palabras de él y eso fue fatal.

Levi no comprendió que ella no había entendido del todo pero lo presentía, así que por eso su confesión al decirle "tu amor por los titanes nunca ha sido correspondido pero hay un amor que si lo es". Sin embargo sus alertas se encienden cuando ella parece o no entender (de nuevo) o ignorar sus palabras, pero todo empeora para él cuando la escucha decir "Crees que nuestros compañeros caídos nos están observando?" El miedo de Levi fue evidente cuando justo la escucharla la calla, diciéndole que no hable como él, ahí se dió cuenta de que ya estaba todo perdido.

Y no es que Hange no haya entendido la confesión de Levi sino que ahí ella ya había tomado una decisión, lo había hecho desde el bosque, a mí pensar era "si no puede quedarme en el bosque entonces debo irme", y ni siquiera los intentos de él por hablarle de sus sentimientos la hizo cambiar de opinión.

Pasando a la despedida, en ese "entrega tu corazón" (que para mí era "si te vas te vas, te llevaras mi corazón contigo y me quedaré vacío") fue el último intento de Levi por detenerla, por mantenerla entre sus manos, pero fue inutil, aunque antes de irse ella le dejó en claro que había entendido lo que dijo con ese " jaja nunca te había escuchado decir eso" que en mi firme creencia fue una especie de "Lo sé pero ya es muy tarde"...

Hanji decidio ser egoísta, así como lo fue Levi cuando dejó morir a Erwin, ella buscó otra salida que no era viable (quedarse en el bosque) estaba cansada, ya no deseaba luchar más, ni siquiera con Levi, tanto que le pidió que no hiciera el intento por detenerla al decirle "Es mi turno, así que deja que me vaya" Hange no le estaba pidiendo permiso, sino más bien le dijo que sería egoísta que no le importa su deseo, que ella también quería descansar y por eso se fue, sí, su muerte fue un acto heroico, peleó derrotando a tres colosales (o más no recuerdo cuántos fueron) siendo solamente una humana más, pero más allá de su deseo de que Levi y los otros pudieran vivir para derrotar a eren estaba el suyo de querer descansar sin tener que rendirle cuentas a nadie mas por ello, sin tener la preocupación de equivocarse en la siguiente decisión que tomaría, sin tener que ver morir a quien sabe cuántos más, sin tener que entregar todo a cambio de nada.

Sí, para mí Hange Zöe cometió suicidi0 pero no lo veo como algo malo, es un personaje de ficción y creo que no pudo haber tenido un mejor final, no me puedo imaginar cómo habría sido si hubiera vivido para el final de la serie, ella estaba tan rota y había pasado por tanto que no puedo hacerme una imagen mental de ella viviendo feliz y en paz después de todo lo que pasó. Aunque por otro lado, claro que me habría encantado que hubiera cumplido su sueño de explorar el mundo, verla junto a Levi, siendo felices, estando en compañía y quizás casados o en una relación (no hay que olvidar el LeviHan) jaja.

#Shingeki no Kyojin #hanji zoe #levihan #levi x hanji #headcanon #interpretación #attack on titan #snk

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hansackermanzoe · 3 years ago

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Dios, por qué el LeviHan es tan canon 😭??

Te amo Mappa

#levihan #hanji zoe #levi ackerman #snk

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hansackermanzoe · 3 years ago

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Hi been a while~

I listen to while you reading📖

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hansackermanzoe · 3 years ago

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Esto es canon en algún AU de los caminos

Levihan pregnancy HC past chapter 139 (or when Hange never died in 132 bc in the last minute the boat flew before she actually caught fire and whatevers...). No one asked for this, and its kinda OCC, but I just felt like writing lol I will probably erase it in the morning anyways...

Hange is in her mid 30s; Levi in early 40s;

Beside studying plants, Hange has turned into a language apprentice; books have always been one of her passions, and now she finally has the time and means to learn more things;

Onyankopon helps borrowing or bringing copies of books and papers from other countries for her, and teaching the languages he knows;

he also let her know how the rest of the world is gradually recovering as he is a official Pilot and travels all continents;

Levi kinda learns a bit of new languages by osmosis bc he hears Hans studying everything; and he likes it since he can know more about tea leaves and how to grow them in his and Hans' garden;

The decision to have a baby was carefully, thoroughly studied and planned;

They knew they were growing old by the day; so if they really wanted to try building a bloodline family tree, they had a birthday year-limit.

So they waited three years to see how the world would be environmentally and politically bc there is no way they would bring such a new, precious life to their world just to have it in risk of losing it;

Since the first trimester, Levi would study every single book of pregnancy available at time; no way in hell he is going to be a mere bystander, or keep unprepared, or be taken by surprise by the smallest shit while Hange does all the hard work of growing their tiny human being alone;

Hange knows a lot about the topic because she avoided any chances of conceiving while being on SC; she would never mistakenly get herself such responsibility if she couldn't actually fulfill it with the best of her commitment;

But there is still a gap between theories and practices; so after the first weeks of seeing Hans suffering with morning sickness (that actually appears anytime of the day), Levi buys three buckets for each room of their cottage and places them strategically where she stays the most so there won't be a mess if she doesn't make it to the bathroom or the yards in time;

Hans knows though that more than be concerned about the mess of her gut fluids, Levi doesn't want to risk her running around the house and tripping; her sight is still half bad indeed, like his, and his leg makes it troublesome for him to follow her sudden sprints;

Things get better as Levi learns the best teas for Hans (thanks Onyankopon and Kiyomi for some special gifts from what was left of their mother lands), and then they reach the glories of the second trimester;

Hans is now showing with each week, and she is all-time glowing like the morning sunshine rising over the ocean;

She is also back with the always excited biology researcher side of her, as well as explorer mind full of energy, ideas, and creativity;

Like the old times, Hans gets Levi to partake in everything she does;

Or rather, almost everything;

There is just no way Levi's letting her build an fuckin human-size airplane on their backyard while she is pregnant, dammit!

Levi does compensate her "for ruining her new dream" by promising her something involving the upcoming Annual Humanity's Day Air Parade Celebration, Onyankopon, and some special celebration which he is certainly going to regret when the day comes, but Hans's heartbroken face does this weird shit with him;

But soon he is reminded that of course Hans was always called the smartest for a reason; and she can be very immediatist too; so she gets him to also fulfil all her weirdest cravings;

Or the safe and edible at least...;

Hans has developed a now 03 years habit of suddenly stand up alone in the middle of their front garden, silently facing the sunset, without eyepatch on, but with eyes closed;

From the porch, Levi silently watches her stay still as an statue (except for her murmuring lips) until the sun eventually disappears;

They couldn't really forget the dedicated hearts of their fallen comrades;

One spring afternoon, during one of these memorial times, Levi was completely taken by surprise seeing tears begun running down her face at the same time she pressed her hands on her bump;

But before he could jump down the two front steps and probably breaks his good leg, Hans turned her head to his direction and shouted I can feel them while her lips parted with a bright, colossal smile;

It took 7 years for her to laugh so wholeheartedly like that again;

and for the millionth time, it makes Levi wish he could somehow be able to capture and record precious moments like that forever;

As Hange's bump grows rounder, they cuddle in bed in three main positions: Hange as the big spoon; Levi as the big spoon; or just face-to-face;

Hans liked to be the big spoon because while she is hugging-spooning Levi, she loves to hold their entangled hands over his heart and feel him squeezing her fingers whenever he feels their baby's movements wooshing against his back;

Levi liked to be both the little and the big spoon bc either way Hans's body is always entangled with his;

But it shook him to the core the night he was the big spoon and he first felt their baby's moves under his palm; it was a little kick right in the middle of his bad hand - the one which during the sad days or nightmarish nights reminded him of death, fights and sacrifices;

now, though, when Levi looks at his hand with the missing fingers, beside the losses it represented, it also reminds him of the wonders of survival, of second chances and the new life he and Hans had created;

He then also understands why Hans's laugh is fully back;

With science facts, multicultural myths, her best smiles and surprise seductive attacks, Hange convinces Levi of the benefits of "preggo seggs";

Because, hell, she is feeling wonderful, always and completely in love with her husband and full of hormones;

At first, Levi has no exactly idea what to think or do about the topic; so he just goes ultra carefully with the flow and pay attention to whatever Hans asks him verbally and non verbally;

But after a few times, he lets everything about the topic settle down as natural and lets himself be more wholeheartedly invested in their new and time-limited shared experience because, goddammit! Hans knows all the ways to tease the wits out of him, get under his skin, and seduce him!

And fuck him if he also doesn't love to feel, hear, breath, touch and watch her so beautifully in bed with him!

When they cuddle afterwards, and Hans curls her body into his, and they wrap their arms around her growing bump, Levi knows he could hold them both inside his arms forever without ever growing tired of it;

Btw, Hans is always absolutely amazed and in love with her precious husband, because whenever they make love, Levi makes it a habit to gently hold her waist and lightly presses his forehead over her bare bump before he gives a soft kiss on top of it and whisper something in the Ackerman's lost language;

Then he brings his lips up her right ear, whispers the same thing and gives her lips the longest, sweeter kiss they ever shared each time;

The first time he said and did this, Levi didn't exactly know the verbal translation, just know it's something meaningful; of course, Hans loved it;

A few days later, though, the words come crystal clear to his mind as Hans sleepily curls herself up inside his arms and whispers it back over his chest;

It's something Kuchel whispered in his ear just before he slept in her arms on the night of his birthday;

"Me lusso sego Eo sego Usilo, ny gouos vi omvo yea."

"No matter The Clock of the Time, my heart will always be with you."

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hansackermanzoe · 3 years ago

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Soft for his commander 💚💜

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hansackermanzoe · 3 years ago

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Reiner es tan guapo que no puedo 😫

SIR YOUR [REDACTED] LOOKS HEAVY LET ME GIVE YOU A HAND

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hansackermanzoe · 3 years ago

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bring your love baby (i could bring my shame) - 8

NSFW | Eren x Mikasa | Ao3

Summary: “Good things come to those who wait, Mr Jaeger,” she says, coyly.

He cups her face with his hand and turns her face upwards to him. “... I don’t think either of us wants to wait, M. Am I wrong?”

“I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it -- to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once.”

— Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

He hears her breathing bounce off the walls, harsh, breathy gasps escaping her lips. Her breasts rise and fall in tune with her panting, and he watches with fascination as her head is thrown back, pleasure dissipating slowly as she licks her lips.

Her hand lies limp near his face, where she’d previously tugged hard on his hair, whimpers and pleas to never stop, pressing him closer to her sweet centre. He thinks of the way she cried in front of him, shame and fear and everything ugly that made her afraid of her own pleasure. It’s such a contrast to the woman in front of him now, so lost to the sensation of her own body that she’s barely able to recover. It mesmerizes him, all the different sides of her he is allowed to see, the untouchable woman on the pole, the self-possessed beauty who sat in front of him the first time and asked him “what can I do for you Mr Jeager?”

It makes him want to flip her on her knees, and whisper in her ear, to ask her what he could do for her as he relishes the abandon on her features, and eats up the melancholy on her lips. Desire pulses through him, thick and heavy in his veins as he thinks of it, his mouth watering at the sight of her- and it makes the itch in his mouth return.

Greed, he thinks, that’s got to be what it is, there’s no other way he can describe the way he shamelessly nips his way across her inner thighs, revelling in the way she squirms beneath him, gasps and moans that only urge him on further. It’s as if he can’t help himself; he laps at her slit eagerly, tongue flicking at her clit and also within the depths of her, tasting her without the intention of pleasure, but more for himself.

She’s sensitive, so fucking sensitive, he can feel her soft flesh quiver underneath his tongue but also under his hands, her body so so pliant for him. “Please,” she whimpers, but her hands are still in his hair, and she sounds so precious, so deliciously fragile, there’s something within him that makes him want to go deeper, to taste all of her, to consume the flavour of her body’s pleasure whole.

He licks it without any particular rhythm, sighing into her weeping cunt, lifting her ass up to him, the way he finds comfortable. And when he’s done gobbling up every drop that she had to offer him, he licks his way down her crevice, all the way from her ass to her clit.

He’s rewarded with the most beautiful, pleasure-soaked moan he’s ever heard, and if he could he’d make it his mission to hear that every day and night. “Ere..h,” she breathes shakily, and he hums against her wet, messy pussy, the vibrations tickling her. She arches against him, unable to help herself, making the softest, sweetest sounds.

She tastes like nothing he’s ever known in his life, nothing he’s ever imagined, except maybe a new, heady, addiction. That’s got to be it, he thinks, drunk on the juices of her, that’s got to be the reason he craves her like he does- like a drug in his bloodstream that he cannot get enough of.

So he eats her up, exactly the way he promised, teeth and tongue and lips, and the faint stubble of his chin scraping against her overstimulated pussy, until she begs again, “Please, Mr Jaeger,” - and he doesn’t care that she regresses to formality, it feels intimate from her lips, private almost - “Stop,” she sobs, “... please.”

He does, immediately, shocked by the desperation in her voice. “God, I’m sorry, did I,” - he looks at her with guilt-ridden eyes, his mouth red and the wetness of her cunt shimmering across his chin. He’d meant to ask if he’d hurt her, if he’d done something that didn’t feel good, where he should have stopped just like he’d promised, but instead he’d been too lost in her perfect body to even take notice.

She looks at him with watery, dazed eyes and whimpers, “... It’s too much. I can’t take it.”

And just like that, his mouth goes dry again. He’s struck with the urge to say things he’s never said before, to bury his face in her cunt and make her give him one more orgasm and show her that she really can take it, she’s so good, of course, she can- but instead, he ignores the desert in his throat and his rock-hard erection and says, “... Too much? It felt that good, huh?”

She blushes, long wisps of straight black hair matted to her sweaty forehead, her crimson lipstick bitten and smudged. “... I’ve never,” she looks at him honestly, dazed grey irises blinking up at him. “... felt that way… with someone else before.”

Swallowing painfully, he thanks whichever God is watching for the fact that he is fully clothed, and his dick is tucked away out of sight, so it doesn’t assume some irreverent importance in this situation. So before it can cause any problems for him, he pulls away from her, mumbling, “... Maybe we should get some fresh air.”

The view from Eren’s apartment is a thing of beauty. The lights of the inner city gleam with colour, gold and pink and a dash of red if you look carefully, far enough into the interior. Rows of winding canals with the old leaning houses and their pretty reflections, and the little bikes adorning every corner.

He’s seen this view every day for months now, and every time he looked at it, he’d allow himself to be a little lost, to feel enamoured with the secrets of the city that he’d tried to call home but had swallowed him whole. This time he has something else to distract him, and he watches her from the corner of his eye, watches the way she holds the joint in her hands, the way her lips purse around the stick as she brings it to his mouth.

It doesn’t help the situation in his pants, the one that the cold air doesn’t take care of, his emptying whiskey glass only taking him further down the thought spiral of how he would like himself sliding between his lips like that-

“... You always have some on hand, huh?” He blurts out, desperate for some small talk. He’d lived 28 years of his life without blatantly sexually objectifying the women he meets, surely he could manage ten minutes of keeping his brain out of the gutter.

She looks at her joint, amused. “... Easier than carrying that whiskey decanter around, I suppose.”

It’s a familiar look again, the look of a woman who’s in control, but he sees the crumple of her dress, the fragility of her expression, and he recognises the dimensions he hasn’t seen before.

She shivers, and he notices. Reaching for his coat, he asks, “... Does the smoke keep you warm?” He puts it around her shoulders, but his hands linger at his elbows, his body close to hers.

“A little.” She leans back against him, slightly, her back to his front, hair brushing against his chest. He lets his chin rest in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her, smoky and pungent. “... Like your drink, I suppose.”

He inhales deeply before taking another sip. And for a moment he feels bad about it. It’s part of his every day now, when he thinks of her, when he thinks of his ex, when he thinks of how he knows genetically he has a weakness to liquor and it still doesn’t stop him. “... I think I have a problem,” he confesses, breath heavy with whiskey.

“... Maybe you do,” she agrees, turning towards him, slowly taking away his glass.

He looks at her indignantly, before reaching for her joint. “So do you,” he murmurs, taking it between her fingers.

Her eyes flicker at him as he takes her joint and stubs it out. “... Maybe I do,” she breathes, and when he moves towards her again, her lips move to capture his.

He lets her press herself against him, her body unfurling against his, her breath warm in his mouth.

She’s such an addictive taste in his mouth, a drug, the kind that takes over his sense and lets him think of nothing else. He feels it in the few minutes when he watched her from afar, how his mind burned with questions, with guilt, with what-ifs. It was an absurdity by this point but Eren was a simple man- he wanted her with the kind of certainty that bore no rhyme nor reason- but seeing her in a home that no longer felt like his, a room that bore the stamp of someone who wasn’t here, felt wrong.

Historia was in everything around him, the cream paint on the walls, the couch he’d eaten her out on, the expensive shirt that M tugged on when she kissed him. It’s a nausea that lives under his skin, something that refuses to get out of him.

Yet, the more he presses against her, the less he remembers any of it. M rests her hand loosely on the nape of his neck and presses her breasts against him as she kisses him and he lets her; he lets her tongue slide into his mouth that tasted of her and lick the raging thoughts away, filling his mind and his body with something else entirely- a terrifying intoxication that he was dying to submit to.

His hands wind low on her hips, curving around her ass, pressing her close against him without any regard for the erection that presses through her satin dress. It rests against her abs, perfectly toned from the way she works it, and it makes him groan into her mouth. He pulls away, grasping her chin harshly as he forces some distance between them. “... I thought you wanted to stop.”

She licks her lips fetchingly. “But you,”- her eyes dart to his crotch, and he feels his cheeks burn- “... You didn’t get a chance to feel good.”

He runs a thumb across her lower lip, saliva sticky on his skin. “It’s not a transaction, M. I felt plenty good going down on you…” And god knows he would have done it longer, if she’d let him. “You look so fucking good when you come, I think I could watch you forever.”

He thinks about that for a moment, pushing her just a little bit more, watching her come over and over again even though she thinks this pretty body couldn’t handle it. He tips her chin up so can look into her glazed eyes. “... But I bet people tell you that all the time, huh.” The words are out of his mouth before he can even stop to consider what he’s saying. It’s a nonsensical double standard; the way he’s paid to watch her before but the idea of anyone else seeing her like this makes him see red.

“I told you already,” she says, voice hoarse, “... I can’t, I’ve never.” Her cheeks bleed with shame. “... Never with anybody else.”

Maybe it’s the fantasy of it that’s hard to believe, because he murmurs gruffly, “... Not even in the club? The way you did for me that day?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking her this, it’s none of his business, nor his right to care, but it feels as irrational as the fact that he brought another woman home to his wife’s house.

She should protest with the way he asks her this, like he has some ownership over it. But she only shakes her head shyly, unable to meet the heat in her eyes when she says, “... Never.”

It’s embarrassing how much he likes that fact- like this was something of hers that belonged to him and only him. He pushes backwards until she’s nestled against the wall, “But you’ve been with many others, haven’t you, M?”

She turns away embarrassed, defiant. “More than you’ve been with, Mr Jaeger.”

It isn’t the retort that she’d aimed for it to be. There’s a flicker of pride in his eyes, and it teases the existent desire inside of him. “... And you teased all of them this way, huh?”

“... Is that how you feel? That I’m teasing you?”

It’s an absurd question. It feels as if that’s all she’s been from the moment he first laid his eyes on her. Teasing his attention, his emotions, his blatant hunger. “I didn’t think I was teasing, earlier,” her voice is choked, her bangs hiding her eyes, as she diverts her gaze to the pretty skyline beside them. “Sounded more like begging, if I’m to be honest.”

“Teasing or begging,” he confesses, “... I liked it.” So much. The way she looks at him, with honesty the way her words seldom are, the way her body thrust into his mouth, the whimpers- he loved all of it.

“Then let me beg properly,” she murmurs, tilting her forehead against his. “... Let me make you feel good.” She kisses the side of his mouth, “... Let me make you feel the way you made me feel.”

And before he can say much more, she drops to her knees, pretty grey eyes looking up at him like stars. “Please?”

So, before he can combust purely from his overactive imagination, he nods, licking his suddenly dry lips. She opens his zipper in a practiced motion, extracting his cock from his pants, and letting it spring to erection before her.

It’s a shameless sight, and he shivers as the cold air of Central Sina hits his skin, but the look in her eyes, somewhat taken aback, but mostly intoxicated as she wraps her hand around his length.

She jerks him like she knows what she’s doing, bending over his cock, her breath warm on his tip before using her spit to lube him up. Tilting her head up, she catches his entranced gaze, like smouldering leaves, as she strokes him slick, his cock jerking embarrassingly into her hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes, as she sets a rhythm, practiced, her grip just perfect, the sight of her lush breasts from above turning him on even further. “Pull it lower,” he rasps, “... your dress. I want to see your tits.”

Her eyes sparkle in the moonlight. He’s always been so proper with her, even with his head buried in her cunt, even with his fingers inside of her- It had always been ‘Please’ and ‘Whatever you like,’ but she can’t say she had never suspected (or fantasized) about this side of him. The slightly rougher side, the one that looked at her like a starved man, desperate for whatever she’d give him.

She pulls her dress lower just as he asks, her bra cupping her breasts temptingly before she lowered those cups as well. He runs his teeth over his lower lip as he watches her, as he sees her nipples harden froma the cold air. “Don’t stop what you were doing,” he reminds her, as if she could forget his rock-hard erection that hovered right at her cheek.

“Good things come to those who wait, Mr Jaeger,” she says, coyly, reaching for her nipples and playing with them, relishing the way his eyes darken.

He cups her face with his hand and turns her face upwards to him. “... I don’t think either of us want to wait, M. Am I wrong?”

It makes her flush crimson, down her neck and till the tips of her breasts. He tugs her gently towards her cock, and her lips part for his length, tongue laving along the length of his underside.

He hums in satisfaction, eyes closing for a brief second as she takes him in and sucks, hard. His hand glides to the back of her neck, positioning it where he can guide her, murmuring, “... Your mouth feels like heaven.”

She flushes at the compliment, using her mouth the way she knows how to, the way she’s learnt through all her mistakes, through all her lost endeavours in the name of finding love. She takes in all the appreciative sighs, the groans, the way his cock twitches in her mouth, using her technique perfectly but she isn’t prepared for his candour, the way he talks about her, the way he presses her head down on his cock like he can’t help himself, as he mumbles, “So fucking warm, just like your pussy.”

His words pour straight into her bloodstream, like a potent hit, burning under her skin. Makes her wonder if she could make him feel this good even with her pussy. Tears sting her eyes as she takes him in as far as she can go, trying not to struggle around the length of him; trying not to think of all the times she’s pleasured men with her mouth just so she wouldn’t have to disappoint them with her cunt.

He slips out of her suddenly, a strand of saliva lingering between her lips and his tip. She wipes it with her palm as she catches her breath, looking up at him. “You’re distracted,” he says, roughly. “... What else is on your mind, babe?”

And before she can answer, he slips into her mouth again, smoothly, just shy of hitting the back of her throat. He let’s her catch her breath around him, bob up and down on her own pace. He caresses the side of her cheek as she works him so good, voice rough as he tells her, almost possessed, “I don’t want anything else on your mind when you’re with me.” And then he holds her head in place and thrusts into her mouth, in and out, as she adjusts to him, gasping, taken a back by the change in demeanour.

A part of him knows he’s being careless, irrational, but he doesn’t want her practiced techniques, no matter how good they feel. He doesn’t want anything she learnt from anybody else, doesn’t want anything else in her pretty head when she has his cock in her mouth. So he fucks her mouth the way he likes it- she likes it too, he thinks, he hopes, because he can hear her moan softly and it’s like an aphrodisiac. He fucks her mouth in a shallow way, careful not to make her gag but fast, in and out till she is panting, pushing back and begging for breath. His cock glistens with her saliva, hard and pulsing, but he pulls back, eyes dark as he murmurs, “... Sorry, was I too rough with you?”

She’s so confused by the change, but when she looks at him, she realises she’s stupid to be. He looks at her with concern, with hunger, the same way he’s always looked at her, like there was always this animal hungering beneath his silk shirts and trousers. “I,”- rough, maybe, but her soaked panties tell her that she likes it, “... no, it was…,” she licks her lips. “Good.”

His fears dissipate when she leans towards his cock, aching to have him in her mouth again, but he grabs her cheeks before she can take him in again, savouring for a moment the sight of her, on her knees, with her tits out, mouth eager for him. And with a titan’s strength, he pulls back and says, softly, “... Get up.”

She stiffens, “But you haven’t,” -

“Anymore of this pretty mouth and I’ll be finished in seconds.” He wipes the saliva from the side of her lips, before pulling her to her feet and towards the little diwan on the corner of the balcony. “And I’m not finished with you yet… not for a long time.”

He sinks down on the cushions, and tugs on her hand to follow, but she looks down at him hesitantly. “Are you sure? I can,”- her voice is shaky, “... Let me make you come.”

He gets on his knees, threading his fingers into hers, as he meets her anxious gaze. “I want you to, God, I want it to so bad,” he confesses, “... but not with your mouth.” He cups her panties, soaked again, and his voice grows hoarse as he realises just how wet she is. “I want you to make me come with this.”

He slips a finger into her gently, swirling inside of her and groaning. “... Can you do that for me, babe? Please?”

And God, the way he looks at her, she doesn’t think she’d be able to deny him anything. So nervously, she sinks on to her knees on the plush linen cushions, and lowers herself on his straining dick. He groans as he feels her, drenched satin panties against his thobbing erection as she rubs against him tentatively.

His hands make their home on her hips, raking her dress up so her ass cheeks were exposed. A strange mixture of anticipation and anxiety thrums between her legs, but she grinds down on him, using her hips the way she’s done numerous times, for numerous men, and a small part of her thinks maybe she can bring him to climax just like this. She’s definitely done it once before. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to know- he would feel good, just the way she’d felt because of him, and he’d never find out. She’d orgasmed from his touch, but penetration was another thing entirely, it had never worked, it had never felt good, and if she gets him off now, she’d never have to see that frustrated, displeased look they always got when her body refused to comply-

“Hey,” he murmurs, nipping gently on her lower lip. “You’re lost again.”

She steadies her breathing, tries to look at him seductively, working her hips down on him faster. “... No, I just… Lost in how good it feels, that’s all.” And she gives him a small smile.

He narrows his eyes at her; runs a thumb along her lower lip. “Yeah? Are you lying to me?”

She flinches, pulling back, but he wraps his arms around her hips tightly. “... If you don’t want to do this, tell me.”

“Whatever you’re feeling tell me,” he begs, softly, loosening his grip. “... But please, for the love of God, don’t look at me like you’re afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” she whispers, cupping his cheeks in her hands- because how could she be? He’d treated her with so much care, with so much reverence and passion, she just couldn’t bear to be looked at any differently. “... I’m not afraid of you. You… You’ve been so good to me…”

“Then what is it, M? If you’re not… feeling it,” he swallows, trying to forget how wet she’d felt against his fingers just seconds ago. “... We don’t have to. It’s exactly what I said before,” -

“I’m just afraid of myself,” she whispers softly, and she doesn’t have the strength to put it into words any more than this. So she pulls her panties to the side and sinks down on to his cock, wincing at the pain that she knew was inevitable.

His head goes blank, pupils blown from the sheer feeling. He groans, the feeling of her simply exquisite around him, like a glove, warm and wet, and so fucking perfect- until he hears her whimper in pain.

“... M?” He breathes, concerned. Her hands clutch his neck, eyes screwed shut in concentration, as she lets herself settle on top of him. “What are you, oh-”

He’s cut off with a moan, her hips rocking against him, sucking him deeper with every sway. She feels like the sweetest oblivion, the stuff of poetry, if he was that type of guy, but all he feels is like the worst type of asshole, because he’s in some kind of paradise, and the incredibly gorgeous woman on his dick looks like she’s about to cry. “Stop,” he gasps, “... For fuck’s sake, your obviously in pain, just stop,”- and he chokes almost, because the more she moves against him, the more he wants to forget it and rut into her mindlessly.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Is all she asks him, and he has no way to deny that it feels probably like the best thing he’s ever had in his life.

He rests his forehead into the nape of her neck. “Like fucking heaven,” he mumbles, his fingers dipping between her legs, reaching for her nub.

“Babe,” he whispers, his breath hot on her shoulder. “Stop, stop moving, please. For one second.”

“Why,” a twinge of panic seeps into her voice, “... You… don’t like it?”

He grabs her hips forcefully and stills her. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good in my life,” he says honestly. “... But I don’t like that you seem to be in pain.”

“I… I tried to tell you,” she says, shakily. Tries to laugh it off. “My body doesn’t exactly work like it’s supposed to.”

He rubs circles into her hips absentmindedly, doing his best to breathe in and out, and not lose his fucking mind, because he was still sheathed tightly inside of her. “Yeah? And how is it supposed to work?”

“Are you… mocking me? You know what I mean,” -

“No I don’t,” he rests his hand on the curve of her waist, thumbs brushing against her abs. “... You keep telling me something’s wrong with you, and I can’t see it.” He looks at her reverently. “Honestly I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite so perfect in my life.”

Her cheeks burn, self-consciousness almost choking her. She can see her own reflection in his bright eyes, but she doesn’t see what he sees. “You’re wrong.”

Frustrated tears sting behind her eyes. “This is where it always goes wrong. This stupid pain, and this stupid fucking body, it never listens,” -

“Is it hurting you?” He asks quietly, “... Am I hurting you?”

“No, it’s not you,” -

“Where does it hurt, babe?”

She takes a deep breath, biting back the tears that well up in her throat, the sheer mortification of having this man so deep inside her- just like she wanted- and still suffering over something that cannot be fixed. “Inside, it stings, when you enter,” -

“What I did earlier, did it hurt you?”

“N-No.”

He wets his thumb with his saliva, generously, and slips it down between her legs. “Don’t move, okay? I want you to try and feel comfortable.” And he glides his slick finger over her clit- once, twice, until he sees the tell-tale shiver, run along her body, her eyes glazing over. He withdraws and spits on his finger, wanting as much lubrication as possible before applying a little more pressure.

He’s rewarded with a little whimper, but a different-sounding one than before. “You feel okay?”

She nods, tentatively. “And you?”

He laughs, ironically. “How do you think I feel?” He ups the pressure, his fingers moving haphazardly, these motions totally unpracticed. She moans, and he can feel how good she feels, feels it in the way she squeezes around his dick. “You’re, fuck,”- He has to bite back his own groan, smothering it against her collarbone- “... dripping all over my cock.”

His words make her feel dirty, dripping into her skin, her bones… but it makes her feel redeemed. She searches his face for the tell-tale signs of disappointment, of frustration, but she doesn’t find it. Eren looks at her the same way he always has- hungry, desirous and openly desperate. It makes her feel molten inside. Maybe she doesn’t have to worry, she thinks, she’ll never feel dry or devoid of pleasure in his arms, his gaze is enough to make her liquid with heat.

“Take off your dress,” he rasps, breaking her out of her reverie. “... I’ll keep you warm.”

She lets out a shaky laugh before she lifts her dress over her head. “I already feel like I’m on fire, Mr Jaeger.”

“I can feel it,” he murmurs, “Feels like you’re fucking burning me from the inside.” His eyes linger on her bare breasts, the way her bra pushes it up towards him- almost like an offering. He tilts his gaze towards hers. “Your bra, too. Take it off”

He removes his hand from her clit, wet from her juices, plays with her right nipple, before he leans closer to her left one, giving it a wet, sloppy kiss. He doesn’t discriminate, giving the other one equal attention, his saliva drying on her skin from the cold, night air. Her hands interlace behind his neck, pressing him down further, running them into his soft hair.

He kisses her as if they have all the time in the world, unhurried, indulgent, but she can feel him still inside her, throbbing, hot and impatient.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” She asks, breathy.

“Like I’ve never wanted anything else,” he tells her simply, before going back to his mission to squeeze and fondle and taste every inch of her breasts.

“Then do it,” she pleads, skin flushed.

He hums, fingers dipping back down between them, back on her wet, slick, nub. “You want it, huh?”

He regards her darkly, a part of him wanting to go ahead and give in, if only because she is undeniable when she begs. But the other part of him wants her to never look at him like that ever again, with discomfort, with pain… with fear.

“... Whatever you want, I’ll do it,” he murmurs, words caressing the side of her neck and making her shiver. “Just give me one more and I’ll do it.” And he works her clitoris mercilessly, using his spit generously, using his thumb and then his index and middle to stroke up and down over the top of her folds.

She clings to his neck, pleasure rising in her body, along her skin, the tops of her breasts, and deep inside of her. He caresses her neck with kisses, lips and teeth and tongue, as he tells her, “... I’ll fuck you just like you asked me to, babe. I promise.” He groans as he feels her tighten around him, her walls like a vice around his cock, squeezing, edging him impossibly. His voice grows rougher, “... Come for me and I’ll fuck you like I want to, just like I’ve fantasized about.”

“Ere-h,” she breathes, and he loves that, loves the way her name is just a breathy whisper on her lips, loves that she tells him incoherent things about how she’s feeling, tells him, “D-do it like that,” as she shudders through an orgasm.

It rips out of her like she didn’t even expect it, her cunt spasming deliciously and making him throb, her entire body shaking from the force of it. The sight makes his mouth water; so vastly different from the woman who took her clothes off for him that first night, the one who’d teased him and told him that he couldn’t touch her. And now she begged him for it.

She was a fucking wet dream and she felt like it, liquid heat consuming him, a drug that had an impossible grip on him. And even after her orgasm, she begs, “Fuck me, please… You said you wanted to.”

His voice is dry when he asks, “... Does it still hurt?”

“... Only because you aren’t moving.”

He groans, “Don’t say that… I just don’t want to hurt you.”

She laughs, high from her orgasm. “Don’t give up on me now, Mr Jaeger… Not after making me feel like this.”

His throat constricts, his hands digging into her hips only to prevent himself from throwing away every shred of control he has. “... And how exactly do you feel?”

Her lips ghost against the shell of his ear, lighting his skin on fire. “Like you’ve given me… almost everything I could’ve asked from you.”

And she moves. It’s lazy, a drawling sway of her hips, drugged by the aftermath of her pleasure. But it shakes him, pulls the tight cord of restraint that he’d done so well with, the arousal taut on every inch of his body. “You’re sure?” He asks, his last ditch attempt at not being the most selfish bastard on this planet.

“How much more do you want me to beg?” She doesn’t say it with sass, but with a desperation that matched his, eyes that looked at him like she’d plead how many ever times he asked her to.

He stares at her for a moment, heat flaming in his verdant eyes. And then he rolls her back on to the cushions and spreads her out for him again, legs pliant in his firm grip as he kneels down to touch his tongue to her - again.

“No,” she begs, “... Don’t try to distract me with that,”-

He swats her ass lightly, skin blooming pretty against the sting. “I want you ready for me when I fuck you,” he murmurs, before his tongue sweeps against her opening again, steam crawling through her blood when she thought she couldn’t possibly feel any hotter.

“I am,” she whimpers, “... I’m ready, Eren, I’m so,”-

He thrusts a finger into her and slides into her easy, so easy, it barely satisfies her. He adds another and watches her carefully, searching for any signs of discomfort.

He only sees her shiver in pleasure, lips parting with pretty whimpers, so he adds a third.

It makes her gasp, wriggling around him with how full she feels, and she mumbles, “... I can take you, you know, I’m not a virgin.”

And before she can elaborate he withdraws and thrusts himself into her in one deep stroke, eyes trained on her features the whole time. When he sees only her eyes fluttering closed, breasts arching, he says gruffly, “... I don’t really feel like hearing about who’s been here before me, babe.”

He lifts her legs and hooks them on to his shoulder, angling himself nice and deep and so deliciously warm inside of her. “You’re not lying now, are you?” He murmurs, reaching down to kiss her forehead, “... It feels good for you, doesn’t it?”

“I,” she inhales sharply as he pulls back and slides back in, still careful, still slow. “I won’t break, Eren.” She laughs, throaty, because she’s already broken, in ways that he still would never know, and when he handles her like this, so so carefully, like she’s made of glass, it makes her ache inside. “Fuck me harder… please.”

He stares at where they are joined, where he disappears inside of her wet heat, whispers, “... Fuck.” And before can think about it any harder, he grabs her by the hips and fucks her.

He drives into her like he’s dreamt of, hands rough on her legs, tilting his face into her soft skin as he bites curses into the swell of her calves. “You’re so good,” he praises, “.. so perfect. And you tried to keep this from me?”

She cries out, each thrust feeling so full. “I didn’t want to disappoint,” she whimpers, back arching from his pressure, “... Like I always do.”

He bends her over and eases into her smoothly, mumbling hoarsely, “A disappointment? God, you have no idea…” He fucks into her shallowly, the wet, slapping sounds of her body humiliatingly loud. “... Do you hear that, M?” “That’s how good your pussy makes me feel. So fucking wet for me.”

Her pants grow harsher, the mind-numbing drawl of his filthy words descending on her and making it harder for her to breathe. “So pretty when you feel good, babe,” he litters kisses along her calf, thrusting erratically, “... Gonna come again?”

He can feel himself getting close, but the urge to see her tip over one more time was simply overpowering. “It’s too much,” she sobs, his hand closing around her breast and squeezing hard. “... You can take it,” he encourages, because now he feels arrogant enough to think he can read her, he’s memorized those pretty expressions and tattooed them in his brain, knows perfectly well that quivering cunt can give him one more so they can finish together.

If the rational part of him thinks he has no business pretending he knows her, or fucking her like she’s his, he squashes it. It’s just so so easy to forget when she feels like that, looks at him with overwhelmed tears stinging her pretty eyes, gasping his name as she falls apart around him and takes him with her. So he squashes that part of him deep within along with the voice inside him that screamed when his ring brushed against her skin, or when it was buried deep inside her pussy as he fingered her.

It’s all he can do to pull out of her jerkily, ropes of cum splattering on her thighs and her mound, messily. He’s panting over her, body heavy on top of hers, but she kisses him sweetly, a smile pressing against his lips. There’s much to think about and he knows it, so much he wants to ask her and so much he wants to apologise for, because he’d been so rough, so careless fucking her without protection just now. But she laces her fingers around his neck and pulls him deeper for a kiss, and all he can feel is a blissful tiredness.

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