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vampycherry · 4 months ago

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WAVES KNOW SHORES | Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader

20+ only. minors, ageless blogs and under 20 do not interact. This does not apply to mutuals because I said so.

summary— “captain” levi reveals his wild side on a lake outing. this is a repost from my old blog.

word count— 7,161

content/warnings— reader uses she/her pronouns and is afab, modern au, established relationship, swearing, smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, ass play, mentions drugs, mention of blood, animal death

If you click read more or keep reading, you imply that you are not a minor, are 20 years or older and consent to read this content.

“Aha!” Your exclamation cuts through the muffled rumbling of tupperware and pans as you rummage through the cabinets for what feels like minutes too long. The object you are looking for was there all along, just behind Sasha’s knees which are bare and bandaged from an earlier stumble down the mountain.

“What? What’d ya find?” Sasha’s speaking to the sizzling skillet, bouncing on her feet in her new perch before the stove. She flips the switch to off, cutting any gas and extinguishing the low flame, “Connie, your butter’s done!”

“We almost forgot a cooler.” You open the lid as you set the bucket down on the kitchen island, “‘Need that to catch Sasha a fish.”

Sasha glances over her shoulder to watch you pull out the freezer shelf, “Connie!”

Connie emerges from the hallway, his sun-burned feet padding across cedar. “I got it, I got it.” He enters the kitchen and slips the spatula out of Sasha’s fingers.

“Y/n! Okay, but can you lure like… a 16-incher?” Sasha takes a seat on a bar stool behind the granite counter.

Connie’s scraping every last inch of the melted fat into another bowl and open to inappropriate jokes. “A 16-inch what now?”

Abandoning your frigid post, you lean into Connie’s back and give his neck a dramatic sniff. “Whew! That’s fragrant!”

Connie chuckles and stirs the mixing bowl at the crook of his arm. You wince at the chocolate batter seeping into the fibers of his grey shirt. He waits for you to finish your cacophonous task, the crash and clinking of ice cubes cutting Connie off.

“Me or the weed butter, baby?” Connie tosses you a wink of amber levity.

“I’m not sure anymore, C.” You toss Connie the ice scoop. It clinks against the bowl and clatters to the counter beside him.

“Okay, okay, if it’s not a pike, then a walleye, please,” Sasha observes how fast you’re moving and hopes you’ll move faster. A girl’s gotta eat and she’s hungry after your earlier hike.

You know the perfect place to source her request, “Yes, chef.” You’re halfway out the door with your sunglasses flipped over your nose, “Yeager, will you have the fire ready to go for me?”

He raises his hand from his station on the living room sectional, his other hand scrolling through his phone, “Uh huh. Tell Captain it might shower in like an hour.”

“Okay. We’ll be quick,” You’re out the door.

You’re back in the door.

“Oh, and I know the brownies are almost done, and you’re starving, but please, please resist them until we pull into the dock?” You shake the cooler for emphasis, “I could use some help with dinner until you all um, activate?”

“Yes, yes, go, your captain is waiting!” Sasha waves you off toward the large living room windows, where you get a view of Levi loading the boat with gear.

“Just. Please don’t burn the cabin down!” And you’re off.

It’s your last plea to keep your friends on their established course to three days without mishap or mayhem—or damage to your family’s Dauper cabin. With so few places to get out and enjoy peak air quality, you and Levi decided to take advantage of your family’s rarely applied reservation system to block off the cabin for the entire month of August.

What better way to savor summer’s dying days than wet in the water or up on the alpine?

Your friends agreed to drop in the first week of your stay, eager to stretch their legs and mend their hearts on the northern lakeland.

With a cabin full of young adults, it’s only natural for you to wear your bathing suit 24/7 and to get up to no good—on Saturdays, at least.

At least, that’s what you tell Levi to justify your lack of pants and bare midriff. This time of year is turning out to be unseasonably sunny with near-drought conditions in the lowlands. Once noon temperatures begin to consistently break 87 Fahrenheit, Levi is so tired of clammy cotton, moist merino, and sticky viscose that he abandons his suitcase inventory for a pair of shorts a day.

The weather’s his excuse, and you’re happy he has such reverence for planetary patterns. You are also giving thanks to the seasons, especially summer, and Levi’s strong, capable, and visible upper body. With minimal effort, Levi applies quick taps with his elbow on the boat’s steering wheel. He watches you roll your eyes at the comical honking sound as you descend from the elevated porch steps. Once your sandaled feet hit the grass, you throw the cooler on the ground and drag it behind you.

Meeting you at the edge of the dock, Levi scoops the cooler from your grip, hoisting it upon his shoulder. He raises his eyebrows and nods, inviting you to share.

You lead him down the platform, “Weed brownies are going in the oven, and Eren’s volunteered to make the fire.” The silver jet boat tilts with your weight as you straddle the edge. Levi passes you the cooler.

He watches the water swish and crest along the dock as he ushers you down the platform, “We’ll make this quick then.”

With swift movements, Levi works his way back up the dock, unhitching the ties that keep the boat anchored. You’re floating freely once he steps into the vessel.

As you crouch down to secure the cooler at the back at the stern, Levi centers himself at the console, one-handing the wheel and flipping various switches on the dash.

He’s been looking forward to any time alone all week, so when you suggested a ride to Sasha’s fishing spot, he jumped at the chance to join you.

Levi knows the outline, pattern, and depths of one of the larger lakes west of here. His childhood summers were often spent under the Smith family wing, where the professor would mentor both Erwin and Levi on all available chores and pleasures. The Smith family is the reason Levi can identify the nonpoisonous berries and various birdsong around the cabin.

You don’t trust anyone else at the The Sina’s helm, and Levi wouldn’t have it any other way. It was less about the dramatic horizon line that split the region in sloping inclinations or the valley wind combing his hair in jetted layers. It was less about the diffused reflection of sun rays that kiss and bleed a golden hue across his cheekbones. That’s part of the territory and what polarized lenses are for. Being captain is more about his hands of judgment and marine anticipation so that his better half remains above water. Captain Levi is entirely about the promise that you’d make it to dry land when it was time to head home.

You take a seat on the plush, leather bench behind the captain’s chair and, so he can hear you over the wind, lean forward, with your chest against his back. “Um, did you happen to check the weather?”

The hairs on Levi’s forearm stand and prickle with goosebumps. “Oh yeah,” his careful fingers toggle the weather radio adjacent to his shoulder, “Rain in two hours.” He points the boat west knowing he’ll arrive at the far bluffs before the late flaming sky orb collides with them.

The Sina crests and falls across a passing boat’s wake. You grasp Levi’s biceps for support and are relieved you’re not up front with the back splash.

“That’s why we’re going so fast.” A shout underlines Levi’s response so you can hear him through the wind in your ears.

Levi lets up on the gas once you enter Sasha’s bay. It’s as lush and sapphire as your early summers with her.

A loon crosses your path.

You move to recline at the top of the boat, savoring the silty scent of fish skin and moss, and you’re torn between taking in the primeval scenery or staring to capture your captains’ eye.

Your gaze gives against the multi-paletted late sun that stains the surface of the cerulean deepwater, a casting of colors that dissolve into the planet and its surface dwellers.

Levi’s lip twitches and hides his grin. Your swimsuit bottoms hug your mons, and he notices the organic patch of wet seeping through the fabric. He offers you a smirk in reciprocity.

“Right around this corner, right?” Levi recalls Sasha’s simple directions.

It’s helpful for you to see where Levi’s heading, so you turn onto your belly to gauge the geography in front of the boat.

“Yeah, actually, if you stop the engine, we can cast from here.”

The motor halts and a profound quiet settles between the boat and the surrounding shore. It’s in this bay that you started to understand what a world without civilization might sound, taste, smell, and feel like. The silence enhances the lush, wet forest whose downed trees and vegetated hollows float in your vision.

You turn around to face your captain, whose arms are crossed over his chest, knees wide and bare feet planted. Levi had caught you staring, and now he was admiring your ass.

“Levi,” You give him a toothy grin and gesture to the fishing poles at the rear, “Toss me your hoody and I’ll tie some lures.”

“Manners, Y/n.” Levi makes his way to the opposite end of the vessel. Aiming for the space beside you, he overhands his sweatshirt for it to fall at your feet.

You’re tugging the black article over your head, the inside traced with Levi, when you see that he’s leaning on the side of the boat and snipping the fishing line off a knot. He spares you a glance before his final push and pull.

His touches are careful while he continues the next set-up. You lift the pole that leans on Levi’s thigh and unlatch the reel.

“Ah.” Levi shakes his hand and examines the blood oozing slowly from his thumb.

Your eyes darken at his wound, “Let me see.” The rod sways in your right hand, and you take his wrist in your left. Levi sees you coming as your eyes crinkle in mischief, and your tongue flicks out between your lips.

“No. Not here.” Levi shuts you down for more reasons than bacteria. Your snicker is audible as you leave him, reaching for the first aid kit.

Stepping several paces away to avoid further bloodshed, you extend the rod behind you, twisting your waist one way and then the other. You let the attached line fly into the lake, hook disappearing below the blue.

“Shit cast, Y/n.” He doesn’t mean it because his cast off the opposite side looks identical to yours.

“I’m gonna catch you dinner, Levi.” You lean the rod against the wall and throw yourself onto the bench where Levi half-kneels. With a concentrated expression, Levi focuses on reeling the hook in before he swings his arm over your head. You watch the barbs swing in your periphery before they kerplunk to the depths below.

Your captain finally tilts his chin forward and spares you a fast glance, “And if I catch it first?” His fingers wipe the hair out of your eyes as a powerful gust ripples across the bay. The tallest coniferous trees sway over the nearshore.

Your eyes sparkle with possibility as you consider his question and lean into his touch.

He pulls away to recast.

“Anything you want, Levi.” You take a seat and are provided with the opportunity to emphasize your ideas with your fingers running under the elastic at his hips. They trace around his lower abdomen and end at his tailbone. Your chest presses against his torso and your arms remain wrapped around him.

“So if I want to go home, let you do the cooking, and drink whiskey with Eren, you’ll be OK with that?”

He feels your warm cheek press into his side with the slight movements of your smile. The half-hard bulge twitches against your chest and communicates his preference for none of those scenarios.

“Sure, Levi. Whatever you want.”

Levi casts the rod again and notices the change in wind direction. You’re doing your part by, you think, mooring your captain so he can concentrate on your shared task. Your contributions are the patterns you drag against the nylon; your nudges with your nose are so close to his cock but terribly far.

Sighing, Levi lets his line drift and rests the rod on the built-in bench. Your arms go slack, and you make to push yourself up so you can recast, but Levi needs answers.

He’s fast, and now his right hand can playfully tug at the hair above your nape. Your neck falls into the support of his palm. “And if you win?”

It’s sunshine that reaches your collar, now exposed. Its heat that warms the top of your chest. It’s Levi’s tongue that meets your neck in a blazing, wet bite, causing you to spasm and reach for his wrist. Who’s mooring who?

The boat sways. Levi knows your pussy flutters.

He pulls backward and slowly lets you go before he traces the berried bruise with his thumb, “I think I caught dinner.”

You blink as numbing heat plunges inward and several feet deep, where sound sort of travels through through your skin.

Levi keeps his quiet and calm around the populated cabin, with PDA to a bare minimum, and only when your friends can’t remember to keep their hands to themselves. But out here, immersed in your human skin and in solitude for miles, the behavioral niches you fill are entirely instinctual and based on the unforgiving flow of time.

Levi hooks his finger into the front of your (his) hoody, careful to distinguish the tip of your tongue swiping across your lips before he acknowledges the scenic ordeal surrounding him.

Onward, he presses and flips his hand to grip around the tightening grommets at your neck, bunching the fabric and tugging you to warm his chest.

He finds your tongue.

He’s steady in his kiss, keeping pace like a river but splashing in biting curves and drenched turns. You’ll swallow him like soaked dips swell sand, pluming and suspending into his embrace.

whiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Seawater meets fresh and comes to life with a fish fight.

You scramble out of Levi’s lazy hold to halt the spinning wheel. The handle bruises your knuckles, but you finally stop the little fucker.

Levi’s pulse builds with your controlled jerking of the rod. Your fingers are careful and tight around the line.

For all parties involved, your effort feels like forever. To the glacial lake, it’s a blink of an age.

Winner, winner, you caught dinner.

Levi’s at attention with a net and dips it beneath your prize. It’s a big one, not quite 16 inches.

This next part is not the easiest, but after summers of fishing for food, you admit that if someone else wants to put the catch out of its misery, you’ll never object. Why pine and extend suffering?

Levi grasps the fish by its tail and hoists it out of the net. His expression remains neutral. With one clean whack against the outer edge of the boat, the fish stops gasping, the gills go still.

“Good catch.” Levi squints against the late sun behind you. He extends the fishtail to your hand, and you admire the contrast of his creamy, mammalian skin against the sparkling silver scales.

It’s your turn to contribute. With cooler in hand, you make your way aft to the steel platform, utilitarian and suitable for filleting fish. “Can you get my knife?”

Emerging from washing his hands over the boat, Levi wordlessly opens the compartment nearest to his knee. He carefully sorts through the various tools that are haphazardly organized and waiting to harm his fingers.

You’re balancing on your knees and anticipating your first cut once Levi extends the knife handle over the platform. “How fast can you cut?” Grey eyes study the incoming wall of puffy, dark cumulonimbus cloud where they approach the nearest peak.

“Ahhh… Give me two minutes.” You set the fish head on ice and ignore the itch at your temple. Fish slime clings to your hands.

Levi’s sigh rumbles in his chest, and he resolves to start the boat. “I’m going to get us out of the bay, at least. Tell me if I’m going too fast.”

“If I cut my hand?” Your sardonic chuckle mutes the subtle sound of blade slicing flesh.

“It’s better than getting caught out here.” With his steady hand on the throttle, Levi eases the boat along the channel.

Your focus is on completing the butterfly cut, even with the cold water lapping over the platform.

Soon, the outlet enters your periphery, and you sigh because the rest of the way will be quick unless you get a windswell. You drop the fillet with the tail into the cooler beside you, feed the guts to the lake, and rinse your hands against the wake.

Levi’s relieved when he feels your cold hands grasp his shoulders. “I’m going to push fifty unless you see a reason for me not to.”

“Then I’ll take a seat so I can be on the lookout, captain.” You slide onto Levi’s left thigh. Yeah, there’s urgency in Levi’s voice, but you think you have a point.

The boat tilts with the increased momentum, and the warm air wings at Levi’s cheeks, “No.”

He bounces his leg, but it does less to get you off and more to get you going.

Your laugh is breathy, “Can I drive then?” It usually works-- give Levi a choice between two known negatives so he’ll find a positive.

His response is louder and pierces the wind in your ear. “No.” Strong arm wraps around your waist as a makeshift seatbelt, “But use a wet wipe. You smell like lake bottom.”

You accept the cloth and cleanse your extremities of fish residue.

The speedometer indicates half a gas tank, more than enough to get you home even at 60 miles per hour.

Levi’s above local lake law when it comes to storm warnings. He understands where hidden rocks or sandbars lie; the only other obstacle would be boat traffic, but it looks like your neighbors are in for the night.

A fish flops here and there to feed on night flies.

The vessel bounces across a series of small waves, intensity congruous with Levi’s smirk. Looking behind you, your body shifts and the friction increases between your clit and Levi’s flexed thigh.

You see the tip of the storm surge start to spill over the mountains. There’s an entire boreal valley to cross before it meets water.

“I think we’re gonna be okay, Levi.”

You both breathe easier when the skiff wraps around a familiar bluff, revealing the glowing cabin growing larger in your approach. You wrap your arm around his shoulder as he decreases speed for a smooth docking.

It’s the leisurely pace and luminous solitude that encourages the light caresses at your hip. Now at a slow crawl, Levi’s safely abandoned the wheel to trail his fingers down the crevice where your thighs meet. He traces your skin up to the hem of your swimsuit bottom.

His hand settles at the swell of your ass, where his fingers begin to knead and press into the muscle beneath.

Your posture pops up and back at the deep massage, and Levi chuckles at your squirming. “Hm, you’re rocking the boat, Y/n.”

He dares to hook his pointer finger into the side wing of your briefs.

“Captain.” You’re wiggling your legs and squeezing his thigh with your hand for additional balance, “Don’t make me throw you overboard.”

“Tch.”

The dock gets closer and Levi anticipates his technique by pulling his hands out of your pants and turning the steering wheel against the water. He kills the engine before the boat lightly bumps against the dock poles.

You get off his lap and support yourself against the dash, allowing Levi to brush his groin against your rear.

Your whine doesn’t escape him as he runs the length of the boat, securing the dock ties with several cleat hitches. He’s on the last loop-and-pull when your pointer finger hooks into the back of his pants.

Levi doesn’t give you a chance before he pivots and halts your hands, gripping and swinging them to either of your butt cheeks.

He’s careful, but he knows the boat will remain upright while he lowers himself onto the swiveled captain’s seat, dragging you down to kneel over him. His hands come up and press your hips down and against the rock in his shorts. His shoulders are all you can find to keep yourself from losing balance.

Your stutter heats his windswept brow as your lips drag his name along his profile.

He notices your movements are starting to catch onto his guided roll, “Mm, you never told me what you wanted if you caught the fish.”

Caught in your want, your eyes expand and the flame spreads in your chest. Your lips dip into his with tense exhales and testing tongues.

Levi meets you, extending his neck and exposing his heart. Your hands move to cradle his windpipe, lightly scratching your nails along his adam’s apple.

You move to suck at his neck, almost returning his earlier favor, but not sucking hard enough to mark him.

Levi’s reverence is apparent. His moans reverberate under the fingers at his neck and travel down to your cunt, and you’re only slightly concerned about how easily sound crosses water.

He’ll admit he needed this— to come apart even with just two licks and a tickle. He doesn’t mind the additional adventure. You nip at his smile, requesting his focus on your lips. He goes with it.

He goes with the apologetic kisses when light pecks quicken into laps and undulating rolls off your tongue. He runs with your curious kissing and brutal questioning. He matches your force and jerks up into you, fitting and forcing his clothed erection into your moistened panties. Your eyes snap open at his heavy weight against your clit.

“L-Levi. Yes.” The moan in your answer doesn’t give you a pass.

Levi smirks at your eyes, shut and pleading. It orchestrates the drop in his octave, “No, that doesn’t sound like an answer, Y/n.”

The temptation of fooling around right now, so exposed and outside is something that needs time for consideration.

You stall with your mouth on Levi’s carotid. His swaying and fuzzy brain signals just how sharp of an edge he’s straddling. Will he sink or swim?

His wandering hands finally settle, one anchored to your hip, thumb hooked into the divots at your joint. The other hand is fixed in the nook between your thighs. Between your wiggling and his languid rutting, the strip of fabric cupping your cunt wedges and folds to reveal your inner lips. The way the moistened fabric parts the glimmering sheen on your flesh dumbfounds the man below you. He hopes you’ll make showing him your pussy a habit for setting sail.

You his hovering thumb waiting above your slit and the weight of his fingers, itching to curl up into you.

Levi’s neck is left almost as wet as your core. The cream glossing over your swollen labia captivates and seizes him. He’s only a little sorry that he has to conceal your pretty upper lips to muffle your spirited moan.

The fingers yanking at your swimming panties finally enter your walls with coverage more calloused and stronger than yours.

Levi sighs, twisting his fingers so they’re sheathed up to his knuckles. He holds his upward, steady pumps for seconds at a time, “You know I don’t like to guess.”

His eyes flicker between your trembling and adoring gaze, the wet dripping over his hand, and the wall of clouds breaching the far valley.

The dusk light remains saturated behind Levi, haloed and shadowing windows of opaque pink on your cheekbones.

Levi’s hand stills at your sponged spot. You exhale, “Uh! Yes, I’m just- ah, there’s a clear view of the cabin from here.”

“And Yeager isn’t tending a fire.” His curls resume, “They’re high.”

You remember the brownies but worry it’s only the weather keeping Eren absent. Rolling your hips to meet his flexing forearm, you start fucking yourself on his fingers. Despite this, your groan grows, “That doesn’t make us invisible!”

Levi listens as you make your point through the rustling birch leaves towering over the dock.

“I’d hate to break my part of the bargain.” He’s not lying, you should know, with his thumb rubbing your clit in steady circles.

Buying yourself some time and concealment, you keep Levi quiet with sensual kisses, hoping and heaving your desires in your actions.

Even if he wants to, Levi doesn’t think you have much time to play. With eyes observant, Levi knows those are rain ripples where droplets hit the waterline beyond, and he thinks you should know. He tugs on your hair, breaking his bite and leaving you panting.

“Whatever you want, Y/n.” Levi swivels the chair with his planted feet, so you are turned toward the dramatic view of the approaching squall.

Your muscles buzz against Levi’s hard planes beneath you. His bouncing thighs and guiding hand at your jaw pries urgency into your instincts.

A final glance up at the cabin windows—empty and shut—and, “Why isn’t your dick out?”

Levi examines your serious expression with soaring eyebrows. You’re finally using your words. He growls and rips his fingers out from your core.

Wiping your tacky tailings across your clit, you’re reprimanded, “Those are dangerous waters.”

You get three moderate slaps to your labia because Levi thinks you’re taking advantage of the situation.

Soft whimpers escape you, tongue held for fear of discovery or additional time left wanting.

Levi nudges you, “Up, up.”

You slowly slide yourself backward and off Levi’s lap.

Braced knees bruise against Levi’s as he pushes his spine against the chair back to thrusts his hips upward, so they float above the seat. Your field of vision is tunneled on Levi’s harsh tugging at his shorts and the other hand guiding his dick out of the liner.

Levi lets go of the fabric once the elastic expands around his knees. You decide to help him by stepping down on the material, pooling it at his ankles.

“I missed this.” Your confession leads to shaky exhales and your reeling because it’s not every day when Levi sits naked, sun-kissed, and very ripe below you.

The dusk blue suits him and washes a subliminal blanket across his skin.

“C’mere.” He pulls at your hem, dragging you to straddle him once again.

Your jaw drops open as Levi carefully drags the flush cocktip along your half-clothed slit, mixing his dripping pre with your gathering arousal. Your simultaneous humming mutes any moans, but it still sounds way too loud from within the hull.

Yearning replaces furrowed as your hips catch your hole on Levi’s cocktip. He throws his head back to provide you with a perfect vantage to witness the last of starlight soaking his lashes. The twinkle disperses for an evening hunger.

Your head tilts down and lips hover over his, “H-hah, s-so full, Levi!”

Your cry ghosts across Levi’s parted lips, and he knows there’s more to come from your expressive self.

Anticipating your volume, Levi’s grip on your hip tightens, and his other hand darts out to your lips, prying them open with his fingers and resting them on your tongue.

It’s only a few seconds of moist, still warmth for Levi.

There’s not much to spare, and Levi’s hips are compelled to get you going. He humps up into you, and interrupts your suckling with a gasp and gag. He groans as he pulls his dick all the way out, and his explicit sounds continue as he plunges back in. You fight through the mind-numbing fog to swallow his digits. The taste of your tangy fulfillment is addicting.

“Yeah, suck me in, Y/n.” Levi encourages your tongue with his words and stimulates your cunt with his hot, pulsing dick. His chair and strong shoulders are your options for support.

Sloshing waves cradle the rocking vessel, and the slippery, obscene song of Levi’s impaling member contrasts against the breeze. The hairs that are not yet sticking with sweat flutter and tickle his temple.

“If I—hah,” He appreciates your building pace, “take my fingers out of your mouth—shit!” Levi grunts and responds to the challenge in your hips with a harsh slap-and-grab to your ass.

You whimper as he licks his lower lip, “Can you be good and shut up?” A sharp tug and gentle kneading follow.

Your half-lidded eyes are heavy, but Levi doesn’t miss your sincerity. After a nod yes and your reassuring clench over his cock, his fingers slip out of your swollen mouth.

Levi meets your frenzied bouncing, and he’s almost hypnotized by the satisfying reveal of milky white ringing his dick.

You’re panting and slurring your words, “Yess, baby ah!”

Before you can lean in to lick your lips and your partner, he provides instructions. “Don’t scream.”

His fingers trail around your hip and down to your union, where he brushes his hard cock, and fondles the veins pressing against your creamy, raw entrance. You jolt at the extra sensation, tender and cold, and continue to fuck Levi like it’s your job.

Careful touches continue outward and over your plush bottom, “Just tell me if you want me to stop.”

Coated in your spit, his middle fingers your asshole, gently pressing at the collection of nerves ringing your outer opening.

The heat at your spine explodes and seeps through every sinew and bone in your body. Teeth meet Levi’s shoulder, and his cock almost slips out with the way your hips rise.

Drool follows your bubbling mewl with Levi’s steady and contrasting pressure at both of your holes.

He groans into the breast hovering over his face, “I’ll keep going.”

Levi holds the finger in your ass against your upper walls and swirls the tip in the small circles.

“Ugh, fuckin’ quiet, good, yeah,” Levi chants simple praises into your chest and points his glare at your half-lidded eyes. You’re squeezing the life out of him, but the fresh air fills his cup.

He pulls your hips down as he presses further into your external muscle.

He exhales, “Keep fucking me, Y/n.”

There’s no other option, really. Levi’s command never suggests, and you’re seconds away from getting fucked full of your captain.

His mind rarely wanders, but the situational awareness trainer in him thinks he may need to retie the dock knots.

And he’s back surrendering to his rigid heat

that melts your insides and kisses your womb. It punctures your pained expression and Levi adored you like this. Your cunt keeps clamping around his member, but you keep your orgasm at bay with shallower thrusts.

Levi’s not having it. He presses your face and ass against his body and swallows your moans with his own, slurping his tongue to the roof of your mouth to fortify your discretion.

The delicious shocks of his cock at your womb are scalding and enough to burn you inside out. There’s nothing else to do, save for savoring your anchorage to Levi to a shared devotion to your precious, limited time under the sun (or imminent storms).

Extended fingers dig into your ass to support the dexterous, pumping middle finger as it finally pushes inward to stimulate your inner muscle. Levi applies pressure that works and resists your squeezing ring and finds reciprocity in your pussy.

Your eyes shoot and connect with Levi’s clarity. It’s the softness at his edges and the plea held in his clenched jaw that feeds your bliss and breathy laugh. “I’m c-close- hah!” Your legs begin to shake when Levi’s knuckle finally meets your hole. “Please, please, please...”

Levi appreciates your manners but not your volume. He withdraws his finger from your backside and settles both hands on your thighs. “You were doing so well.”

He slows his hips despite your greedy grinding. There’s no shortage to your wetness, and Levi’s about to get drenched.

The only indication of time passing is the shift in the purple disk that grows darker in your face’s shadow. Beyond your sweat and sex, ozone creeps and sparkles over your nostrils. Beyond your behavioral grunts and whimpers lingers an aggressive, deafening quiet—a lull in the wind.

Sweat trickles and gathers where your bodies meet, a strenuous precedent for euphoria. You hold Levi tight, with your nipples pert and poking his own. His balls are heavy and unbearably tight slapping against the chair’s edge.

It’s a flickering movement that obstructs the glow in your periphery that sends your racing heart plunging down to your stomach.

Your fucking falters, and Levi grits his teeth at the unpredictable stimulation.

A quick study of your expression tells him all he needs to know, but he’ll ask anyway. “Do we have company?” His query is more of a statement.

Your trembling voice buries itself into his neck. “‘Thought I saw something.”

“Ah.” Levi would prefer to finish his meal in private, especially since he plans to pick your bones clean.

Your walls quiver with an obvious indication that you won’t last. His smile ghosts across your nape, “Then you need to cum.”

The movement from kicking his shorts all the way off his ankles encourages your dismount. There’s no way your wobbling legs will support your weight, so you sink down to your knees, face to tip with Levi’s dick.

He bends forward to meet you in a sloppy kiss, filled with your whines and his growls.

Tweaking your nipple elicits your gasp and his break from your mouth.

Levi takes the opportunity to slide off the chair and straddle your thighs. “On your belly, baby.”

The wind almost whisks his guidance away, but it’s the rare pet name that drives your prone transition.

Levi nudges your butt higher and runs his dripping cock along your puffy folds, “If you could see what I see.” If you could see your holes twitching around nothing. If you could see the storm just beyond your spine, you might appreciate the grey-black gradient hurtling toward you.

“Oh, fuck,” is your response.

The night’s gleam on your shoulders is an unexpected beacon this eve. Levi fuels the glow.

All it takes is an initial, lazy thrust to have you choking. If you don’t already see stars, then you’re now the night sky itself.

A mean pull and harder shove has your fist in your mouth, and it’s easier for the felt beneath your frontside to cushion and scratch your skin when Levi bends forward to pin you beneath his torso, chest flat to the floor.

On knees and elbows, he settles into the tightening angle and kisses the skin behind your ear, “Less to see now.”

You shiver and sob around your knuckles, and do your best to meet Levi’s tempo. His hands slip beneath your torso and snake up under your top, cupping your breasts for leverage. Levi’s ass rises and drives down to send his fat cockhead plunging through your sopping walls. It’s the perfect angle, milking your g-spot on the way to your soul cervix. Curves collide with hammering muscles, and your ass slaps and jiggles against his thighs. The song in your ear consists of Levi’s pants and punctual grunts.

You warn, “S-ssoo close, Levi!”

Time slows your approach to a harsh, exposed summit. You’ve internalized the state right before you jump off the dock and into glacial waters. Maybe you can swim or maybe you can’t. Your former fist opens and reaches around to grab the back of Levi’s neck.

He doesn’t let you because he doesn’t give a fuck about etiquette. He’s on a fuckin’ boat, it’s obvious what you’re doing, and if it’s not, then good fuckin’ luck to your neighbors and friends, because Levi adjusts his stance, straightens his posture, and pulls your hips back, so you’re on all fours, presenting your stuffed cunt

His grip on your ass is already bruising, and his hand in your hair stings just the way you like it. Levi’s relieved at how right it feels to rut and fuck out in the open and at the mercy of your unbearably tight pussy. Levi bites his lower lip and remembers to tug at your ass cheek so he can ogle his cock sinking and emerging from your stretched hole.

“Gonna make you cum, ok?” Levi’s thrusts are relentless, and you let him push you further into the floor, surrendering to the hot sparks of pleasure that begin to catch fire to your insides.

“So fuckin’ good for me, yeah. Like getting fucked on a boat?”

Levi’s taunting pushes you into the deep end.

Your orgasm rips through you, and your ragged cries crash into the charging atmosphere. You can’t see through your tears, but there’s nothing worth seeing except the inside of your soul when Levi knocks it up to your heart and behind your eyes. He fucks you through the long, luscious, orgasm, and wonders how long your shoulders will shudder before the air sparks with your laughter.

Levi’s gritted teeth stretch into an amused, almost wicked smile at your cockdrunk giggles. His groans start to match your volume, and you sense his unraveling from his frantic pacing and rough thrusts.

You hope he can hear your whimper over the waves, “C-cum in me, please.”

It’ll keep the deck clean.

Levi is a wreck of a man; his hair is this way and that, his ass is bare for any sorry risk-takers, and his eyes snapped shut, making him miss the delicate pattern of his sweat dripping along your spine. His teeth clench from the overbearing force of what could be 20,000 leagues under the lake, but it’s your clamping, stimulated cunt—

A roar like thunder escapes your lover’s attempts to mute his satisfaction. Like a lifeline, Levi clings to a cord of even expletives that don’t outlast the ropes searing your insides, “Ff-UH- fuck, I’m fucking cumming, ugh, Y/n, yesss shittt!”

Levi’s hips stutter, and he bends over your back, kissing the top of your spine before he backs out of your pussy. You wince at the sensation and sigh at your emptiness, but the haze in your brain and buzz in your muscles glues the grin to your face.

In his post-orgasm clarity, Levi notices the silvery raindrops that splash and drip down the back of your neck because your skin is exposed in places where he can’t shield you.

He tugs at your hood, “We have to go. Storm’s here.”

Sitting back on your calves, you adjust your bottoms in an attempt to contain the semen that trickles down your pussy. You nod and stand, whirling toward the console to check that the boat is off, “Don’t forget the cooler.”

Levi pulls his shorts over his (still erect) dick before he does as he’s told.

You carefully hop over the side of the boat and somehow manage to fortify Levi’s cleat hitches with backup knots of your own. The drizzle is picking up, and you think Levi is taking forever to get out of the metal deathtrap.

He finally joins you on the dock and pulls the hood over your head so it contains your very obvious disheveled appearance from the rain.

“Aaaaannd I think your brownies are a success, Con.” Sasha relaxes next to Eren on the sectional and releases the recliner to raise her feet, “Real potent, though.” She turns to her focused friend, “You gonna start that fire or what?”

Hazy and high, Eren doesn’t think it’s the greatest idea, but he’s the most sober. He sees the boat at the dock, but there’s no sign of Levi and Y/n. He shifts his position across the wall of windows-- maybe you’re making the fire yourself?

Eren sees that the fire pit is empty from this angle, but he has an even better view of your ass? It takes a few seconds for Eren to register what he’s seeing.

“Oh, shit.” He swallows the lump in his throat and turns around with the rosiest cheeks.

Connie notices Eren’s stalling, “What’s up? Need a lighter? You look a little warm. ”

“Uh,” Eren grins and looks around the room before he makes serious eye contact with Connie, “Uh, I think Levi and Y/n are fucking in the boat.”

Connie’s jaw drops into an amused smile. It’s believable. “They gotta come in soon. I think I saw some lightning.”

Sasha’s opening the exterior door, “What!?” She’s tugging on her shoes, “I’m so hungry! Let’s just go get them.” She continues to chant her wishes to the sky, “‘Better not be empty-handed! A 20-incher at least!”

Connie follows while Eren lags behind. He’s hesitating. Your rapturous visual is sticking to his skin.

Connie stops behind Sasha and mirrors her relaxed lean against the porch banister.

“They’ve arrived!” Connie’s cracking jokes because he definitely just heard the specific sounds Levi makes when he’s cumming.

Sasha’s face is bright red, and her eyes are wide. “I- we can give them a little time.”

Eren’s leaning against the cabin with his arms across his chest. He’s ready to retreat as the cloud overhead spits rain on his feet.

Once your feet hit the shore, Connie decides it’s appropriate to greet you. “Did you catch a fish or something else?!”

Levi rolls his eyes at the reception committee. It’s less of a walk of shame for him, but the cum that threatens to run past your bottoms has you glued to his back.

Although it’s entirely reasonable that Eren wouldn’t start a fire with the forecast, Levi’s about to give him shit-- until a bone-chilling crack of lightning illuminates the sky above you.

The fine hairs on Levi’s neck stand on edge, and a second round of adrenaline rushes through your veins. It’s an easy decision to lean into Levi’s back with your whisper, “Come clean me up, okay?”

Levi turns to see you drop your gear and run to the door at the side of the cabin, away from your friends and any additional lightning strikes. He has to handoff the cooler before he can chase you

Even though it’s starting to pour, Levi can’t keep the amusement out of his eyes as he climbs the porch steps. Eren and Connie are over their embarrassment and send Levi props through matching shit-eating grins.

Sasha’s pretty overwhelmed from the weed, the storm, and the discovery that Levi is a literal beast.

She swears he wears the tiniest smirk while he hands over the cooler. He shrugs. “Y/n caught a big one. Who knew?”

20+ only. minors, ageless blogs and under 20 do not interact. This does not apply to mutuals because I said so.

#whatever happened to onwiings.. they remade a couple of times on tumblr and then deactivated for good #and i saw that they've deleted their fics on ao3.. but i don't know when #hm #i wish I could find a short oneshot they'd posted on their tumblr #it was angsty and the reader was dying bc they were a titan shifter. ahh and she decided to betray levi to save him #god this was all years ago #fic

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vampycherry · 5 months ago

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tw yandere, dollification, kidnapping, size kink, reader wears lolita fashion, daddy kink, noncon/dubcon

thinking about a soft yandere that just really likes cute things.

he's overall a very normal dude. sure, he looks like he should be in a gang, but he swears that's just his resting face. his office job makes him smoke chain cigarettes, but compared to what other people are doing to take the edge off, he thinks he's doing pretty alright for himself.

despite his very outwardly tough look, he's always like the... softer things in life. since growing up, he always wanted to play with dolls and have stuffed animals, but his father was quick to shoot that down. now that he was an adult with adult money, sure he could just buy all the cute things he wanted, but he has a reputation to upkeep. by most people in his life he's deemed this cold, stoic guy and he rather keep it that way since he's really just an introvert that hates meeting knew people.

he's had plenty of girlfriends. they were always the same type--cute, smaller than him and had this whimsy to them that reminded him of a doll. he always would buy them stuffed animals, glittery stationary and the like as gifts even though secretly he wanted to keep them for himself. but none of them really clicked with him. every time, he felt like something was missing in the relationship.

now well into his thirties he was ready to admit defeat, that he just wasn't built for love when you literally stumbled into his life. you were the new office worker at his job. you must have been running late because you were honestly quite a mess. your hair windblown, soft pink button down in disarray and you were frantically trying to organize your papers when you bumped straight into him. he barely moved while you bounced back and almost fell on your butt if he didn't catch you.

"watch it," he barked. (he didn't mean to, he was just frazzled by the very pretty, very cute woman that just crashed into him.)

you had to crane your head up to look at him and he swore you had stars in your eyes. you instantly apologized and explained today was your first day and you were lost and that you didn't want to get fire on your first day--

he raised a hand since you started to ramble. he didn't say a word as he grabbed half your pile and directed you to where you needed to go. you followed behind him like a puppy and he made sure you stayed behind him because you did not need to see the almost boyish smile that wanted to creep up on his face. he was so fucked.

since that day, he couldn't get you out of his head. to his luck, you two were in the same department so he got to see you every weekday. he was right to describe you as a puppy. you had this bounce to you that it seemed other coworkers couldn't resist. you brought light to the otherwise dreary office with your overly pink and glittery stationary (one time you let him borrow a pen and he couldn't help himself and kept it), the wallpaper on your computer was kittens and you always wear these pastel mary-janes with a bow on them. he was sure they weren't part of the dress code but no one had the heart to tell you.

he could tell some of the other workers were trying to flirt with you by offering their help, but you always politely refused. for some reason you would go to him for help. and he could always tell when you had a question. you would shyly shuffle your feet over to his desk with your arms behind you in such a coquettish way.

"hey mister matsuda, can you tell me how add up the cells in the spreadsheet again?"

you would always call him mister, so polite and sweet. even when he would grumble about it, he would still get up and show you again. he didn't mean to but he couldn't help himself when he would crowd you around your desk. one hand on your chair, leaning down so close your cheeks almost brushed as he pointed at the screen. he liked how you started to fumble with your words, obviously effected by the proximity.

you would also call him grumpy often. if he was having a particular not good morning, even you, he did not want to have the bullshit office small talk. but when he would only grunt on a response, you would get this pout and quite brattily fire back, "you're such a grump, you know that?"

mumbling a "fuck off" as he walked away, he made a beeline to the bathroom because you can't see how hard that made him.

you were truly and utterly testing his patience. for months it went on like this. the more you would tease him and seek him out, this obsession raged in his belly. it was the same feeling he would get when he was a child and saw a doll he wanted but couldn't have. he would go home and all his thoughts were about you. you were like a limited edition toy he just had to have.

he doesn't want to admit the amount of times he fisted his own cock wishing it was you wrapped around him instead. you would look so pretty on your knees before him, your mouth stuffed wide open as you stared up at him with those doe eyes. or the sounds you would make bouncing on his cock. from the tiny groans you would make when stretching your arms above you, a sliver of your tummy flashing him, he knew your sounds would be heavenly.

the last straw was the whole department decided to have a outing together. to blow off some steam at a local karaoke bar, get drunk and just be silly together. everyone came free of their office attire and in their usual clothing. he didn't look much different, dressed head to toe in black, his wire framed glasses slipping down his nose. he was standing in the circle of male coworkers, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. his cheeks hollowed as he took a puff, head down as he kicked a rock away.

"those will kill you, you know?" he heard your voice behind him.

as he turned to look at you with a playful scowl on his face, his words got caught in his throat.

"OMG y/n you look so cute!" a female coworker squealed as she run over and gave you hug and continued gushing, "you're like a little doll."

the cigarette in his hand fell as his mouth fell open. there you stood in a puffy dress lined with frills and bows. it was pink and red with lacy hearts adorning it along with a headband you wear that matched perfectly. you had the same mary-janes you always wore with frilly socks to tie everything together.

he snapped his jaw shut when you waved excitedly at him. you skipped over to him with a bright smile. standing right in front of him, you clutched your heart-shaped bag in front of you while rocking heel toe heel toe.

"i didn't think you would come."

"tanaka forced me out," he grumbled, trying very hard not to stare.

when you giggled and slapped his arm, teasing him once more, he knew he had to have you.

he knew he was being sloppy and careless as he insisted that he could take you home. everyone else was plastered besides him. it was the end of the night as they all stumbled out. you were much more of a light-weight than he thought. about four drinks in and you were gone. at some point you had fallen asleep. everyone else was too drunk to notice, but he kept an eye on you. you were like a doll with your fluttering lashes.

he had gently put you on his back to give you a piggy back ride. as the rest of his coworkers left in either cabs or walked home, he waited until the coast was clear. your apartment was the opposite way and he didn't want anyone to catch on. he barely struggled as he started the 20 minute trek to his own abode.

his large hands clutched onto your thighs as you snuggled your face further into his neck. his breath hitched as your sighs brushed up against the sensitive flesh.

don't get a boner in public, don't get a boner in public, don't get a boner in public, he begged in his head.

making it to his apartment, he gently laid you down on his bed. with no ill intentions, he took off your shoes and your headband. your bag he held, he placed on his dresser. shuffling you into a more comfortable position, he laid his blanket over you. as much as he wanted to sleep in the same bed, he decided you needed to be eased into it and left to sleep on the couch.

he woke up just when he heard you groan out in pain. getting up, he grabbed some ibuprofen and juice. knocking on his own door, he opened it without waiting for you to give permission. you were sitting at the end of the bed clutching your head, whining.

"take it," he shoved the pills and cup to you and you gladly took it.

he swallowed as he watched you take the medicine no questions asked. you trusted him more than you should.

"where am i?"

"my apartment."

you only nodded your head, but winced as your headache only got worse from the movement. you knew nothing happened as you were in the same clothes as yesterday and your stuff was neatly put off to the side. his apartment was surprisingly bare with a lighter color scheme than you were imagining. there were also cat toys scattered around. you didn't expect him to be the type to have pets.

"give me a bit and i'll be out of your hair, promise," you tried to smile, but your head was killing you. that's what you get for trying to keep up with tanaka.

matsuda crossed his arms with a solemn look, "you're not leaving."

wow, you must be a lot more hungover than you thought. "huh?"

locking his bedroom door behind him, he leaned against it and repeated himself. you looked so lost and confused. still clad in the dress, you were like those crying baby dolls. he wanted to feel guilty, but he couldn't. this was your fault for tempting him.

as it clicked in your head he wasn't joking, tears bubbled over. you both knew there was no way you could over power him. you clutched your chest as hiccups wracked through your body.

matsuda quickly shushed you as he walked over and stood between your legs and hugged your head to his stomach. still, you wrapped your arms around his torso and dug your fingers into his shirt.

"can't you let me go and just ask me out?" you sobbed.

petting your hair, he shook his head, "no, i can't."

after that day, he made you quit your job due to a family emergency. despite the circumstances, he was oddly nice and respectful. he made sure to grab all your belonging from your apartment and bring them to his. every day he would dress you up in your lolita attire and do your makeup. he always made sure to give you plenty of blush.

due to all your stuffed animals, limited edition dolls and girly decor, his apartment looked more like a woman owned it than a man. but he didn't seem to care at all. over time, he bought you more plushies and toys. though, you could tell any time he added them to your ever growing pile, he wanted to play with them himself.

matsuda kept it very pg until one day he came home in a horrible mood. he threw his briefcase down harder than needed while grumbling to himself. he stormed into his room with a glare and tugged his tie off his neck.

"i'm sorry, princess, but i really need this."

he strung his tie over your wrists and pulled the fabric taut. you didn't even have time to protest as he forced you further onto the bed until you were propped up by the assortment of stuffed animals. he groaned as you looked like a doll surrounded by other toys. ripping your panties down and lifting up your skirts, he went moon-eyed at your puffy, pretty pussy.

one-handed he kept your wrists down as he kneeled between your thighs. shoving your legs over his, he widened them to see your lips part to reveal your clit and fluttering hole.

"do you like this?" he questioned, his fingers dipping down to swirl the bud.

you whined as you turned your head to hide into the crook of your elbow.

"don't do that. don't hide from daddy."

unconsciously, your hips bucked up. he easily caught that and a crooked grin split across his face. leaning down, he sweetly kissed your cheek. trailing down further, he slipped two digits into your cunt. you gasped as he curled his fingers, aiming for the spongy spot deep in you.

kissing down until he reached your neck, he let you hide your face. it left the slope of your throat of full display. licking and sucking deep bruising into the skin, he thrusted his fingers deeper in you. he smiled into your neck as you shuttered.

"found it," he smugly whispered.

crooking his fingers upwards, he pet against your g-spot in such laggard motions. he wanted to take his time with you. slick clicking sounds carried throughout the room from your sloppy cunt.

using his thumb, he pressed against your clit. your back bowed as he swirling the bud and bit into the juncture of your shoulder. more moans dribbled out of you as he stayed at the same exact pace.

"d-daddy," you gasped out with fluttering lids.

he groaned as pre-cum coated his boxers and dress pants. he was so glad you were distracted or else you would notice the dark patch at his crotch. his dick throbbed as you climbed closer and closer to your edge.

biting right where your pulse was, you toppled over with a whiny cry. your thighs spasms as your hips canted, chasing your orgasm. tiny tears bubbled in your waterline like pearls. another whine rumbled in your chest as he pulled his fingers out to rub against your tummy.

with a heaving chest, you turned to look at him as he leaned back. your lips were swollen and shiny, and your eyes were hazy. you looked cute enough to eat. unable to help himself, he dipped his fingers back down. he needed to see you cum again.

he can't help it, he loved cute things.

#fic

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vampycherry · 5 months ago

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***

Me: so, there’s this picture that I’m definitely going to finish tonight!

Brain: yeah, I hear ya… But how about spending hours on this mindless sketch of (naked) Levi?

Me: … if you say so…

***

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vampycherry · 5 months ago

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Amor Omnia Vincit (vampire!Levi x reader) - part 1

playlist

wc : 2,5k

genre : nsfw, angst, slow burn, bit of mutual pinning

warning : none for this part

The Graveyard

You had grown with tales and myths, stories and folklore. Creatures of the night preying over innocent souls to lure them into darkness, young maidens never to be seen again and men found pale and dry of their blood. Had been taught never to wander too far away from home for fear that you’d never be seen again.

Rumours went that death roamed in the forest outside of your town. A place where thick fog reigned over high shadowing trees and rocky cliffs, wandering paths and vast hills. Cursed and sublime in its reputation.

You had never been there before, this fateful day being your first trip to the forest and out of your hometown, all to give a small visit to your father’s grave.

The graveyard stood in the middle of the forest, to preserve the livings from the wandering souls of the dead, or at least that is what the locals said. Fortunately you had made your way there without much problem, guided by the chant of crows and the whisper of the wind in your ears, beguiling you over to your destination.

Afficher davantage

#fic

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vampycherry · 5 months ago

Text

the hottest man in the universe

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vampycherry · 8 months ago

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┌─ “ ! „ SORRY FOR THE WAIT

tw. yandere, blood/violence implied domestic violence, dubcon, amnesia, obsession, character death, pseudo-cest, overprotective Levi, praise kink, slight authority kink, creampie, marking, non-linear timeline

wordcount. 6.2k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by @amonsterinspring ♡ thank you A MILLION for commissioning mE !! I’ve never written Levi so I was a tiny bit apprehensive but I actually very much enjoyed him and I’m glad you wanted no regrets Levi because he’s so inch resting to meeeee !! So happy to be writing gross shit again <33 i hope you enjoy it !!! And Ofc so many big thanks to rhi and mel for beta-ing <33

levi ackerman x fem!reader

Headquarters’ up in too much outrage for it to be five in the morning, but evidently, things rarely are as they should be here. He barely manages to tie his shirt closed before Hange and Moblit show up behind him, walking down the stairs with a pace slightly too vigorous for an early morning. Damn long legs. Levi’s impatience boils over when neither says anything, or anything of use in four-eyes’ case, and he makes his way toward the courtyard with a tight grunt. “Yer awfully tight-lipped considering.”

Hange nods. “I’m not sure what to say, is all. I could explain…” Her normally talkative hands are set on her hips as she pauses, and once again Levi feels his irritation spiking.

“But? Get to the point, Hange.”

She’s got a look on her face that gives absolutely nothing away.

“It’ll be easier for you to see for yourself, squad commander.” Moblit dutifully finishes, pointing the way through the dusty open area to the long hall. It’s mostly higher ups that walk around the place, some ducking their gaze to avoid his. His glare is instinctive. The lack of swords at his hips leaves his hands settling slightly uncomfortably at his belt instead as he walks, following behind the longer steps of his companions until they finally land at the door.

Expecting, Hange turns to look at him. “Questioning hasn’t lead far, you see. But don’t worry, we handled the situation gently! We all just figured- it might make things easier to bring you here instead of trying to force a break though when… well- you know.”

His eyebrows pull together without any further effort, and his already thin patience this early in the day glides onto it’s last legs. “What the hell are you talking about?” Rambling nonsense as always. He finds his hands moving before he’s able to call upon his patience.

He pushes the door open to the small office, takes in the bookshelves, the desk, pristine— before his stormy gaze falls onto the broad-shouldered blond hunched over. Or more, the figure he’s squatted overhead while Levi walks in. “Erwin? What the fuck are you playing- at.”

A soft, wheezed breath catches him off guard, only spying flashes of the mud-crusted feet, bruised, knobbly knees. He takes a breath, watches Erwin move aside to reveal the scene. Levi suddenly stops halfway when his stomach rolls, and there’s a dull moment where his heart starts to beat between his ears. Loud, hammering his eardrums, it almost has him tumbling over his own feet.

The face lets out a slight smile when watery eyes trail his way- and immediately spill over into thick beads that drip down the long stretch of exposed neck. A faint voice meets his lips like he’s tasting it, and the air in the room goes electric. “L- Levi nii!”

It’s you. Bruised eye and a bit older, but there’s no mistaking that face. The crybaby, wobbly lip, those long, wet lashes. His own breath escapes him for just a moment, only to see you crawl hands and knees towards him as much as the cuffs will allow you.

Hange nods out of the corners of his eyes. “That’s all she’s been able to repeat since we found her. A face you recognise?”

His hands manage to unclench from his belt only to drop aimlessly by his thighs. His eyes can’t move from your shape, a heavy, familiar feeling settling in his chest. You’re actually here. He’s looking you in the face, that same open, accepting gaze that got him the first time.

You found him.

You are asking for him.

Your eyes are blurry from the cold, breaths coming out in puffs in front of your face. You’re stumbling more than walking, as your feet scrape, as they cut open on the thorns that litter the grounds along with the wet leaves— snow touching your face as it falls, your shoulders slumping in defeat.

It’s so cold, you’re so cold and your limbs feel stoned and useless, as you drag yourself on towards the sound of water. Your throat aches, so does your stomach.

You try to remember the place you came from and walk on and on, if only to get a little further away from the threat of violence by strangers. The world’s so barren. Your breaths cloud before you, blurring your vision more. Puff, puff, puff— and you stumble. By landing onto your hands and knees, you scrape both hard in the process, only barely saving yourself from connecting your face with the dirt, and the lack of sleep, of a safe place to curl up and hide away all have your bottom lip wobbling like crazy.

Almost childishly, you just wish a prince on a white horse would come to sweep you away from here. It hurts. The soles of your feet, your face, the swollen area around your eye and brow and your stomach too, going empty for about a day now. You think. Your hands have landed on snow that doesn’t stick long, but it makes it almost impossible to get up and continue. You don’t even remember where you came from, let alone where you were going.

There’s a nice, cloudy gap in your memory where anything of purpose is supposed to sit. You don’t remember your name. Matted hair sticks to your face, and your clothes no longer serve as anything other than another layer to keep the cold, and wet slicked nicely to your body until you freeze to death. The river sounds close, but also still so far away.

Snow falls, and you cast your eyes up through the trees, frozen lashes, cold lips. “Help me,” you croak out, to no one. To yourself. It doesn’t make sense why you push on, but your body moves robotically up from the floor as if controlled by strings, only to stumble over your own feet every few steps. You might not remember anything else, but for some reason— against all logic, you do remember one thing. A name.

It’s the tiny, flickering flame that pushes you on and on as your vision blurs, as energy seeps out of you with each step, with each breath straining against the weight of your own ribs. A flame that becomes more and more faint as you reach pebbles, a slight opening in the trees where snow does stick.

You’re tired, and you want to go home. You want to curl up into a ball and die. Your eyelids flutter shut as you fall still, trying everything to keep upright.

A rhythmic sound approaching. Horses. “Help me,” you squeak. You think you do, if your voice even makes it out of you.

Some noise comes closer, but before you can see it through, your body gives out and you land onto the snowy ground with a thump— knocking you out cold.

“She’s obviously not dangerous, Erwin,” Levi presses fingers to his temple. The crowded room is doing absolutely nothing to relieve the migraine that’s been steadily building since this morning. The meeting room’s filled with people buzzing around like a bunch of insects.

Erwin stands from his desk. “As soon as we’re finished, I can have Miche escort her to a nice room-”

“No. I don’t want anyone else,” Levi bites out, “bringing her anywhere without me around.” His head aches, teeth gritting. His bitching and moaning won’t sway the commander, but still. Miche’s still perched against the windowsill, heavy eyes scanning him.

It’s been years— the guilt of that fact sits heavy on his lungs.

Despite the order otherwise, he marches past and out the door. “I’m taking her to my room. Discussion, over.”

“Captain Levi!” Nifa calls after him, but a sturdy arm stops her in her path with only a tired sigh. The tall form squares his shoulders as Hange takes a seat in one of the chairs across him. He looks tenser than normal.

“And?”

Her glasses are pushed higher on her nose. “She’s no titan, if that’s what you’re worried about. My best guess is amnesia of some kind. I couldn’t say how she got it, though.” After a few seconds, she glances at Moblit. “Say, it isn’t just me, right? Her and Levi totally had something going on, right?”

“Sit down. Right there.”

“Yes, Sir.”

His hand sits low on your back as he guides you into the slightly damp room. Small windows are fogged up high on the wall. Your arms are wrapped uncomfortably around yourself along with the dry jacket over your wet shoulders, and you trepidatiously walk into the tiled room, barefoot. Levi sighs behind you, voice clearing. “Go on.” It feels like it’s a familiar sound, and you follow the order. It’s been a few weeks, but you have still yet to connect the name to the face.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t exactly the short, head-strong noiret before you. Or rather, you hoped it would’ve sparked something.

You sit at the edge of the baths with a pout and the steam of the filled tub sticks to your lashes. You only manage to strip yourself of Levi’s jacket with his prompting. His hands aren’t soft, but the motion is gentle when sliding the fabric off of you, watching your clammy form unfold as he strips you of the drenched shirt, starts helping you out of the pants. You whisper a slight ‘thank you’ under your breath, because any more right now would take more energy than you have left to expel.

He looks up from where he’s kneeled beside you almost too close, thin brows furrowing as he looks up. “I told you, you’re not supposed to leave unless I’m right on your heel. In any situation. Not only that, but you just about chose the worst weather to make your little break, too.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.’ It makes him frown, nose scrunching, when he has to pull hard to get the pants over your ankles and scratches up feet, dirty and ice cold.

“You’ll be sick by tomorrow.” He’s probably not wrong. The ashy grey eyes flick up at you with -what you guess must be concern- as they shimmer almost brilliantly. It looks a bit strange on his hard, angular face.

You wouldn’t know if it is out of place. He looks cold on the outside. Harsh features, calloused hands, scars wherever you look. You don’t remember what brought you here, or what type of relationship you had. Levi’s care for you so far tells you you two were close, and they’ve told you that you kept saying him name over and over again. You feel like you should trust him. It sucks that you can’t. For some reason, something takes on your breath when you sit still too long.

“I got scared,” you slowly admit, picking at your nails. Like you had to run, run far away. The room they gave you a suffocatingly tight hug.

That’s how you ended up stumbling out of the courtyard towards the woods.

If he’s surprised by your confession, it doesn’t show on his face. He only continues to drop the wet clothes in a pile, then nods his face at the water. “Get in.” His hand takes yours to help you inside the bath, before slowly lacing his fingers with yours. It’s not so much the nakedness you have a problem with, as the lack of his own. Not the quiet you hate, as much as the fact that anyone could come into the communal bathroom when they want. But you don’t want to disappoint Levi by disobeying him twice in a night, so you sit.

Watch him chew on his words for a long time, before speaking. “Are you starting to remember anything yet?”

You suck your lips. “Not really. Not yet.” You remember flashes of Levi’s sharp eyes. Of friends, maybe family? A blond head of hair, a redhead. Sitting in the dark, sleeplessness taking you over. You remember your achy wrists, and you feel it even now, without the cuffs they slapped on you at first. You’re told Levi asked them away— and you’re thankful for that.

”Captain…”

Levi’s other hand wraps around your intertwined ones, and he closes his eyes. “I can’t believe any of this shit. You got taken away from me before— And now, all this…” His expression turns darker as he stares past you, almost as if looking at someone else. “They must’ve really done a number on you, if you don’t remember.” Frost washes over those steely eyes, and his mouth pulls into a thin line. “You promised to stay by my side. I know you never would’ve wanted to break your promise.”

But then he puts his hand on the back of your neck.

The hot steam travels up around you, as he sits beside the tub close enough he could wrap you up in a hug, looking at you like you’re an abandoned toy in need of fixing up. You blink wet lashes at him until he leans in, slots his warm mouth against yours, and his hair tickles your face. His lashes brush your cheeks, and his free hand comes to pet your cheek every so softly. “I’m here now,” his voice is low but as soft as you’ve ever heard him, as he rests his forehead against yours. “I won’t let you put yourself in danger again, okay?”

Your body’s still wound tight from earlier, but it’s only natural that you mellow out in the warmth. “Even if you never get your memories back, I’ll be here for you.” Against the cold of the coming winter, the way he brushes your hair feels so nice. It allows you to let Levi run his lips along your cheek to your jaw, short, puffed breaths against your skin as he pulls you close.

His plush lips linger over your heartbeat, and you swallow against the prey-like urge to scamper out of reach, to instead wrap your arms back around him. Droplets bleed into his shirt, but he doesn’t care one bit. His eyes flutter open and closed a few times as he pulls you into him more, leaning over the edge of the tub to kiss needy kisses all along your neck, to where your shoulder meets your throat.

You instinctively let out a gasp when he bites down, before laving the spot with his lips and tongue. “D’you like this? Does that feel good, baby?” His voice is almost soft, when those dark, blown out irises find you, and you’re letting out tense breaths against him. “Feel good?”

“Mhm.” It’s not hard to figure out what you two were before you got back here. His hand slips down your spine into the water to lift you up against him, pushing his hot lips against you again and again. You taste his tongue, taste his spit when you run your hands through his hair and pull slightly. Not too long ago, this must’ve tasted like love.

You pull back to bite your lip, feel a guilt come over you as you watch him. So hungry for you, it clearly bothers him to be even a few inches away from you.

“I’m sorry for not remembering,” you whisper. Your voice wants to fail you, but you refuse to let tears take over. That wouldn’t be fair to him. A brief pause, then you swallow, eyes fixing on him with a genuine curiosity. “Do you remember everything, Captain Levi?”

The dark itches his skin, takes on his breath. There’s a stench of ammonia, thick, pungent, it almost knocks him over. But that doesn’t matter much when his eyes slide over the dusty, trash-filled room for what he’s looking for. He kicks the bloodied face to the side, pulling his knife out from the pierced temple to wipe it on a handkerchief and pull up his nose. “Fuckin’ pig sty.”

It’s Jan who bothers to search through the dresser, pocketing a few stacks of money. “That’s about 300, Levi.” Not enough. He somehow doubts that anything they find will be enough to pay back the debt. One of the other men closes in on the safe, kneeling before it. Levi’s tight frown only digs deeper.

It wouldn’t take too much to break that open, so with the two of them, they start sliding it out of the spot under the makeshift register. “The rest’s probably in here.”

“Yeah.” He brushes his hair out of his face, ready to leave the brothel behind. It’s only an afterthought to slide open the door of the liquor pantry; kicking through the lock with impatience set on his face. The old wood gives way with a sad creak, and Levi pushes inside. There’s nothing of value, figures.

Only a small cage shoved in the corner, and his hands drop to his side.

“Levi?” Someone calls at his back.

A ghostly figure sits unmoving, crumpled into itself, metal dog collar around the neck— big, desperate eyes avoiding the light streaming into the indentation. Big, obvious blotches litter your skin top to bottom, lips swollen and cracked, your skin almost mannequin-like by the unwashed sheen. His stomach turns at the sight… but more than disgust, he’s taken aback by something else.

His breath stops in his throat for a few beats, as he stares at the pathetic rise and fall of your chest in that skimpy little outfit, pure white lace against the darkness. The pity of your situation is by far outweighed by the beauty of you, and the way his heart pounds in his chest.

He should feel worse. He should probably hate the feeling. The way you stare up at him like a kicked puppy. His mouth cracks open a sliver, slow breath in, slower breath out. If you had a tail, it would wag at the sight of him.

The way you’re looking up at your saviour makes him feel important.

The door thumps before bouncing back into the lock, and a breeze tingles your neck as you snuggle deeper into the blankets. It’s not much, but it’s more than you’ve gotten used to with your last owner. It’s more than enough to sleep comfortably, only hindered by the heavy metal chain that sits around your ankle. You’re not sure why he believes you’d go anywhere. A heavy body drops into the mattress meant for one. For a brief moment, your shoulders rise up to protect your face, spine tensing.

A brief moment that melts away in an instant when you’re confronted by ocean blue eyes in the dark, a soft smile sitting on his cheeks. “Sleepy?” the young man asks, not expecting much of a response before landing his palm on your head in a comforting sort of motion. It’s a drag more than a pat, and his thumb brushes almost patiently over your forehead from between your brows to your crown. A warmth you’ve never really experienced before. If you were sleepy, you no longer are.

Farlan’s a comforting presence that’s only gotten more important with each passing day. The windows to your room are usually leaned open, enough to stick a few fingers through, not your whole hand. It’s enough during the day to catch his eyes peeking up at you from the courtyard, and smiling back when you wave. A sad, guilty sort of smile.

Farlan smells like wood and musk and soap, and to you, it’s the closest you can get to being out there with them with the chain on your ankle.

You swallow, bite your lip. “Levi nii doesn’t like me, does he?”

His blond hair bounces as he rolls onto his side in the silence, and watches you with a strange sort of calculation in his eyes. His hand falls still on your crown, but you lean into the touch before he pulls back. The heat is just so nice. It builds in your cheeks, makes your eyes feel a little hazy, your face softer. Farlan chews on his tongue before speaking. “Why do you think that?”

It’s not so hard to tell. Everyone else is allowed outside. There’s people who come around every day, they carry boxes, work in the street, talk to each other whenever they want. It’s only you that’s kept inside this room— staring at them through the windows; and more than that, Levi always locks the door when they come around. You don’t blame him. You’re sure that if you were better, he wouldn’t have to. You can’t blame the person who saved your life for dealing with you in the way he knows how.

Instead of explaining all that you simply shake your foot, and the loud changing of the metal links fill the room.

Farlan’s eyebrows narrow, and not for the first time, a look of helplessness swipes over his features. “I’m pretty sure Levi aniiki… doesn’t dislike you. He doesn’t even let me in here, normally.”

He pulls the blankets back a bit, uncovering your shoulders from the plush, trails his eyes over the skin in the dark. A fingertip presses into a spot under your jaw that’s achy and bruised that’s only stopped hurting so bad this morning. Then he slides the touch down to the crook of your neck, taps onto another mark. “That Levi aniiki’s doing?”

They’re littered all over.

You don’t have to nod. His expression dims. “Do you even know what’s happening to you here? You don’t, do you.” The words come faster, lingering in the stuffy room. His face shifts, from knowledge, to worry. “Do you even like Levi like that?” Your face goes pouty, and you feel yourself wanting to tilt your head. Confused. A wordless question. Like what, your brain supplies, but maybe because you feel a bit stupid, you don’t speak it.

Maybe because of the closeness and the heat in your face and the warmth of his touch, his care, his attention— you can’t do anything but suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Farlan’s face is closer than it was, you’ve pushed yourself closer. The darkness of night no longer feels so dark when he’s here with you and your heart’s beating fast, really fast. It’s slamming rhythmically in the silence. He pulls his hand away as he smiles, but you reach out to grab it. “Do you like him?” He asks again.

Do you like Levi nii? Of course you do. If not for him you might’ve been left behind forever, stashed behind the walls like a dirty secret. It’s a given that you like him. You like that he sits with you and tells you you’re pretty and when he comes home for the night he lets you snuggle up on his chest and feel every bit of touch that you were missing during the day. When he’s nice he’s really nice, though he doesn’t like to say it in words. You’re similar in that way.

When he’s happy with you, you get spoiled. You like Levi. Farlan’s finger brushes over the tip of your nose when you bring it close to your face, soft, searching touch. It isn’t the same as Levi’s closeness though. When Farlan’s close, you feel entirely floaty, drifting on the breeze of the breaths you two share. Levi’s kind of like is grounded. The blond’s staring like he’s seeing every cell of you at once, and you find yourself saying something before you can think about it fully. “I like you.”

He smiles genuinely at that, taken aback. You two share the space in the bed that’s yours alone. You take up the space nudged into the crook of his neck, feel the breaths dust over your crown. You’re sure when your throat runs dry, and your lashes flutter against his skin.

After a few minutes of quiet, Farlan finally seems to breathe a full breath again. “Tell me. Do you want me to take you out of here?”

Your eyes flutter. A tense, slight frown comes to sit between your brows, and your lips jut into a pout.

“Here, be a good girl.” Your big eyes shift from the door back to him, when he kneads his hands that are settled on your tits, rubbing your pebbled nipples until you shift. A little from the touch, a little from your discomfort as you’re gyrating onto his body. You try to nod, he thinks, because your interrupted by a shiver when his mouth takes one of them inside to suck, and have you whimpering above him. Cute. Moldable.

Your hands move to his head to practically curl yourself around his head and trail your hands through his hair like you’re a kneading cat, and your motion shoves his face between your tits even more. It’s so fucking cute, perfect, as you squirm like you’re not sure what to do with yourself. He’s pretty sure that’s actually quite accurate. As you’re moaning and squeaking though, and he shifts to the other nipple to rub his tongue over it, you let out a soft whine. “Levi nii- it’s… I-embarrassing.”

He grunts into your embrace, one hand slipping around to get under your ass and reposition you onto him better, so that the heat of your pussy grinds against him through the thin scraps of fabric you’re dressed in. “It’s not embarrassing. You’re doing good.” His cock’s rock hard against you. Shouldn’t that be enough to tell you that? If you had any experience with any of this, it would.

“It is!” You pant, and your hips stop moving around like you’re halfway to crawling away, to unclamp yourself from his head, to lean back onto both arms and watch him through teary, drowsy eyes. “I keep making noises even though I don’t mean to, and everything feels weird- and- and I’m sticky, aniiki.” A brilliant blush sits on your face, from your nose to your ears, and it’s as hot as it is adorable, the way you’re writhing around a bit like an animal in heat. He doesn’t need to ask if it feels good, because it’s written on your face.

He goes back to playing with your tits a bit longer, because you’re so soft and warm and wrapped in his blankets, he just wants to eat you up. You sometimes ask him why he keeps you around. A ridiculous notion, as if he would even have the thought of not keeping you. You’re his woman. His, and his alone - it’s not up for debate. You just don’t know it yet, because of your lack of experience. Rough hands pinch at your nipples until you’re shoving at his shoulders and squirming away, underwear sticking to your wet pussy.

Your kicked-dog sort of expression is replaced with furrowed brows when you pant the next thing, glancing back at the door with a pout. “Aniiki~~ it’s embarrassing! Farlan nii’s gonna know.” His jaw clenches, and within a single blink he has you turned around. Pressed back into his bed under his pinning weight, his thin eyebrows furrowing despite himself. Your eyes go wide, suddenly apologetic.

He doesn’t hear you out. “It’s not. If I tell you it’s okay, then it’s okay.” The heat between your two bodies streams down, as he yanks one leg over his thigh to get in between your legs and starts drawing his long fingers along the edge of the seat of your panties. Soaked through, sticky. He brings his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean, and taste the pure, unchanged taste of you. “Stop bringing other people up. I’ve already told you that when we’re in here, you should only think about me. When you’re in my bed-”

“Levi nii is the boss. I know, I’m sorry.” You rap out quicker than he can continue, apologetically smoothing your hands over his chest. “I just… My body always feels weird when we do this.”

He holds the urge to let his face break out into a bit of a grin. How fucking cute can you be… instead he starts peeling off your panties and watch how you obediently move your legs together and up to make it easy, runs his hands up, up, up along your thighs, calves, over your feet. He licks his lips at the sight of you, can’t help it. You let him rock his hips against you, placing his hands both sides of your face, and lean in. “Give me a kiss, come on. If you give me a kiss, I won’t chain you up tomorrow.”

You used to be unable to. Too shy, too cautious, the marks left on you had taken a toll. But look at you now. Almost as if by instinct, you dutifully press your lips to his awaiting mouth, let him lean into your space and take you. It took some time, and you used to cry - but doesn’t this feel so good now. Aren’t you happy he treats you so well? You kiss him slow and deep, letting him open your lips and slip his tongue into your mouth, while his hands rub over your wet pussy.

You’re whining into it though at his touch, mumbling like a pathetic, little thing. “‘M sore, Levi nii~” You must be. Your pussy still slicks though, welcoming him, letting his fingers rub the overstimulated bud again. He wasn’t so nice this morning, or last night.

Your thick lashes flutter when you pull back with a pout, and watch him toy with your body.

“You’re glaring like you don’t want this.” He comments. You shake your head half-heartedly. In truth, it used to be like that. You used to kick and scream before you toned down. But you got there eventually, and now - you’re soft enough to let him do however he likes. You trust him enough to fill you up to the brim and let him spill hot cum inside you, without crying. You still move your body half into, half away from his touch— like you can’t decide if you want him to keep going, so he makes the choice for you. “Open up.”

You shiver under him but move your legs open further, as his fingers trail into the wetness to your clit. “So good, baby.” Soft circles make you scrunch your face up, and harder circles make your back lift from the mattress into a perfect arch that makes his cock twitch in his boxers. Boxers that get pushed down to reveal his weeping, flushed head, and pushing it along your lips with a hiss. “You know what I like to hear, come on. Say it.”

You flush, heat blooming on your cheeks again. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you look away in mock-decency. Drives him crazy. Makes him want to ruin you. “Th- thank you for r-rescuing me. I love… -I love when you play with me like this.”

”Yeah?” He lines his cock up with your slick lips and pushes inside, ignoring the resistance as he dives into your heat. “I know you do. I know you like doing- t-this. You’re a good, little pet for me. We’re close, aren’t we. There’s no one closer to you than I am.” He bottoms out into that perfect warmth only to pull back, wet, glistening, and dive back into you. Your eyes bulge a little, and your hands find his shoulders as your head falls back.

”Ah, ah- Aniiki. I- I’m still sore. It hurts.” You yelp softly when his body connects to yours, and your tits bounce because of the impact.

“Shhh, shh, I’ll make it feel good. Just a little more.” His rhythm moving the bed along with you, as you clamp your eyes shut and wrap your arms around him to hang on. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, of course. But you just feel so good. So inviting, diving into that clenching, warm embrace as his cock slides in and out of you, and slick gushes out along it. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. So good for Levi nii, aren’t you? You’re a good little hole for me.”

“Agh, Levi nii. Aniiki!” His declarations of love fall on deaf ears, because you’re hanging on like you’re on a cliff, whining and the pressure building inside you. Even after hundreds of times, you still look so woefully underprepared whenever he rubs just right against your pussy. Coarse hair and friction all make you look like you can explode any second now, and he thrives when looking at it. Could you not look so fucking pathetic all the time? It’s not his fault that you look so fucking hot like this, squirming on his cock, moaning, begging. “I’m full— I’m so full. Agh, Levi!”

He lets you have more, take more of his cock, harder, deeper. Your poor pussy squelches every time he bottoms out, and your body moves around on the mattress just enough to rub yourself against the thumb he’s pressing to your clit. “You’re so pretty like this, so fucking— good. Tell me you want it.”

Your back lifting from the bed, he can tell when your stomach starts clenching, and your legs wrap tighter around him. “Yes, yes, yes! Wan’it- agh, ah, ah! Levi.” His balls hit your ass every time he goes in and you feel so good, so soft— hotter than anyone should be.

“Tell me you love me. You don’t want anyone else.” You’re whining like you’re mindless, and pull him, scratch along his shoulder blades with a desperation for purchase. You can’t say it in words, but he knows it means ‘keep going, I’m close, I’m so close’. He knows it means ‘I love you.’ That’s why he pushes his mouth to yours again, that’s why he rocks his cock right into that spot that makes you go a bit cross eyed.

He’s doing this all for you. You mewl and suck his tongue and push your tits against him, let him fucking into you so deep you feel conjoined, and then even past that. It’s the heat and the pressure and the touch of you on him that’s making him grunt, his balls pull to his body. He fucks into you until he can’t possibly keep the rhythm anymore, and his shoulders pulls up into a squared position above you.

He pants, sweat rolling down his chest from the effort and the warmth. “You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.” Kissing you doesn’t possibly feel deep enough, but god, you feel good. Heavenly. He’ll stay here with you if that’s what it takes. Nothing’s going to change that. “You’re not going anywhere. Ever.” His cock settles so deep inside you he can see it on your face, twisting between pain and pleasure, and you fall into your orgasm with a rough, desperate cry. Your walls constrict around him, and it’s enough to make him reach his high too.

Sliding in and out, in and out, as hot cum shoots into you and he presses his forehead to yours. “Fuck, fuck- I need you here.”

It’s too dark to make out much of anything, except the frantic energy in the whispers.

“Hurry, come on.”

Your cuffs jingle loud into the night, dragging your chain behind you. It wasn’t possible on your own, but another set of hands got it undone relatively easily, and now, it’s just the sound of your breaths into the night as you look behind you. The house gets smaller before it disappears from your view, and you pant out breaths into the cold night. “Farlan,“ you breathe out, not stopping, “what’s happening?”

Your arm is held steadily in his soft fingers, at a pace as quick as your weakened body will allow. He doesn’t speak until you’ve made it far, far beyond the line of houses that you could see from your window. More than you can remember seeing, ever. “Don’t worry, everything’s okay.”

The night is dark, but when you two finally stop moving, the path forward is even darker. A deep hole in the walls that seems to go up into infinity. You pull your arm away, and look at him, stomach turning. “Farlan…”

There’s no one around, lights are dimmed, and the whole place seems abandoned. All that’s left to notice is the air blowing past your neck, a draft that ruffles your hair. Farlan’s eyes are full of compassion. “I want to do the right thing.” For some reason, wetness wells up in your eyes as you watch him take you in wholly, and gently pull you into a hug. “If we go up here, we’ll get to the surface.”

He pushes a kiss to your temple, smiles bright like he always does. “You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.” The breeze carries the fresh air into your lungs, and your toes are cold.

Farlan’s breaths go quiet as Hell unfolds itself. Instinctively, his hand is still wrapped around the gurgling wound pulsing blood, but his limbs have gone numb. And Levi’s blind anger has him wailing punch after punch, panting heavily before pulling the knife out. His hands drip blood, as the sun rises at the end of the staircase. It’s barely a white dot in an inky canvas, but the doubt does seep in. You wouldn’t have left him. You wouldn’t, you couldn’t.

He loves you, and you him. His only light in this fucking place. You’d never go on your own. You’ll be waiting for him to get you back.

#yandere levi #fic

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vampycherry · 8 months ago

Note

I’m curious as to what happens in the future for levi and reader . Would reader love someone else? And what would levi’s reaction be knowing that reader is already in love with somebody who is not him? Djskskdjsksjsnsjs

well. first, i apologise for taking soooo long to answer this. and second, prepare for a big af rant.

we can explore two timelines: a healthy one or a satisfactory one.

in the healthy timeline, the last scene in the fanfic crushes completely the idolised image reader has of levi. they take a bit of a break, so to say, and she never looks at him the same because yada yada yada - psyche stuff. important part is - they could sit down and discuss their feelings openly. and if reader's mature enough, she'll realise she's been worshipping him like a flawless deity which he isn't, very slowly snap out of it and probably go on to attempt to look at other men as romantic partners. i can't say how long that would take but she might get a boyfriend in college/uni and see the truthfulness of levi's arguments when she reflects on her feelings for him vs those for her bf in a more grown-up mindset with experience. and levi will be happy for her if she falls in love with sb else but also... twice as lonely because he knows he's the adult and has to be responsible for her mentality and relationships developing in a healthy manner but he can't help thinking he would've buckled if she'd given him a bit more time and maybe he would've been happy with her. he constantly reminds himself a guy her age is more suited for her but does sometimes go out of his way to think "what if?". hates himself for thinking it and never lets her see it out of fear it'll make her relapse into loving him again (sorry for referring to it like it's a disease lol). basically, a happy ending for her and a 50/50 for him.

in the satisfactory timeline, however, things look very different. same demolished idolised image during the last scene and same break but she thinks about it a lot before coming to the conclusion that she's loved him way too long to lose that. she decides to be mature about it and accept the fact he's human. it takes her time. she refrains from confessing and instead takes to asking him all kinds of questions so she can get to actually know him. it might take her a year or maybe two. it might be sth really trivial that makes her decide: this is it, i do love him, not the hero i made for myself when i was seven. she goes ahead and tells him. and when he tries to argue, she's the one who's having an adult talk with him. and when he sees that she's serious and mature about this, he buckles. he wants to have farlan and her mother's blessing before anything happens. both aren't opposed to it. so they try it out - one, two, three dates, they're easing into a schedule where they grow to see each other as humans, become even better friends and officially enter a relationship on her 21st birthday because she asks for it as a present. they might struggle a bit because he's still a working adult with more experience and he has his insecure moments but she's always there to reassure so the bumps along the road don't, ultimately, prevent the ride. i think in this timeline, i could see them never splitting up because both of them know how much they've sacrificed to make this love proper.

it depends entirely on you which option you pick and again, i'm sorry for the rant. i hope this satisfies your curiosity to some extent and thank you so much for asking.

#snippet

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vampycherry · 8 months ago

Text

Things That Make Me [Levi | Reader | Modern AU!]

[“It’s not love, it’s just admiration.”]

When I was little I used to go home on my own because I had nobody to pick me up. I wasn’t a strong little girl, but at the time I didn’t realise why the streets were a supposedly dangerous place either. I liked to follow my instincts, so I took different routes every day. My mother wasn’t at home to scold me, my brother was studying abroad and my father was… well, I didn’t exactly know where he was. Mom told me, two years later, that he’d left us and he wasn’t coming back. Funny thing was, I didn’t cry.

One specific day I was going home, backpack secured over my shoulder as I hummed a song I’d heard on the radio. Even my humming was very off-key, I realise now. It’s one of the few things that stayed the same no matter my age. My memory becomes blurry around this part, but I think I saw a butterfly. Seeing it led to following it, which minutes later turned into losing sight of it and as a result - getting completely and utterly lost.

I started roaming in search of a street, or a house, or anything really that I knew. It took me half an hour to realise that was a futile exercise of my energy and just as I was about to panic it started pouring down on me. I remember the rain - loud and cold, and I remember running to the closest dry spot I could find.

I was literally sprinting, my little feet sploshing through the newly-created puddles on the street, when my body bumped into something solid I hadn’t seen coming. I fell back with a yelp and felt wetness soak through my coat into my very spine. I heard nothing over the rain but when I looked up, and I swore to myself never to forget that, I saw something that made my eyes fill with awe. I still don’t know if I fell in love in that exact moment, I was only seven at the time after all, but I remember this:

His eyes were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.

I remember him helping me up and asking me if I was okay. I remember his voice, with that rash, unfamiliar to him gentleness, scolding me for not watching where I walk. I remember his eyes narrowing when I told him I was lost and then I remember the warmth of his jacket seeping slowly into my cold skin as he stayed with me in that little dry spot, waiting for the rain to let up. I took my time observing him back then, pestering him with questions until he could only regret he’d ever met me.

There was a small pause when I just smelled the air, full of rain and spring, and watched the male next to me stare off into the distance as if he wished this downpour would never stop. His face, albeit stoic, looked pretty lonely. Every time it rained after that I would think of his eyes - I still do.

After it let up, we walked and walked and walked until he managed to find where I lived. Just then did I notice he was wearing a backpack himself. I asked him about it, but the only thing I received was a ruffle of my wet hair as he warned me to be careful next time. Kids usually take everything literally and I was no different. So I concluded there would be a next time and thus, felt very excited regarding its arrival.

In this case, I wasn’t mistaken to think that because it happened three months later. This time he didn’t save me from a downpour, but from getting molested - or so I realised later on in life, around the time I turned fourteen. I remember his angry face and his pretty eyes - full of concern and an odd sense of tension, and I remember the blood on his hands. I wasn’t crying but the way he was looking down at me protectively surely would’ve helped me get over it.

The cure for the blood on his hands was a little tissue I had in my pocket and the remedy for the bruises on his knuckles was a band aid I found in my backpack. He was silent during the treatment and I was concentrated. I had been scared, I admitted later when he questioned my well-being for the second time, but the only detailed memory of the event I had afterwards was the warm feeling of his big hand as he walked me back home.

Those two days were the beginning of something big, something that is still going on even now. Something that was, and still is, completely beyond me.

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vampycherry · 8 months ago

Text

A Poem for the Right Person [Levi | Reader]

a poem for the: i - wrong person; ii - right person

Knights, fairytales, Prince Charming, a damsel in distress. Standard universal formula. An unfortunate pretty girl struggles with her unfair life, meets her Prince, survives a crucial misfortune, gets back to her beloved and they live happily ever after. Standard formula.

Comparing yourself to the main heroine would be quite presumptuous. Somebody who wrote poems to express their feelings wasn’t somebody who had a realistic grasp on the world surrounding them. A dreamer could make of the worst heartbreak a beautiful tragedy. He could make of the simplest gesture a literary piece full of colours and meaning. He could see a teacup and whip up a quick fantasy about the life of the person who’d last touched it. He could watch death and say it’s kindness. He could live years of unrequited love and say it’s simply meant to be, in some life, in some form – that it’s beautiful and fulfilling despite its misfortune. You were that kind of hopeless unrealized dreamer.

Because you observed people and you couldn’t help it – thinking what their thoughts consisted of, thinking their smallest of movements and changes of expression held meaning. You couldn’t help thinking whatever was meant to happen would happen regardless of you and your actions. Fate was fate and you were yourself – nothing more and nothing less, and you couldn’t affect anything – you could only sit and write it down. Now, Corporal Levi Ackerman had a contrasting opinion.

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vampycherry · 3 years ago

Note

lev, i have a req for when you’re free. i have a few hehe😮‍💨 sure, sub levi is great but… thinking of a usually soft dom levi who happens to become mean for once, unexpectedly.

coming home from a rough day of work, all he wants is to relax and enjoy the weekend off. instead, he is greeting with an extra bratty wife (who is only trying to make him feel better) but he’s really not in the mood for it. so, he warns you to hide and if he finds you, he’s not going to go easy.

idk why im in such a ‘head empty, just getting railed by angry levi’ mood ejdknjdbeidb

hi suki :3 idk how this got so long😭 AND ITS PWP SO ??? unfortunately i am physically unable to write levi straight up mean the whole way thru but i hope u like it ✋🥺

summary: After a long, hard week, Levi needs to relax… in an unconventional way.

content/warnings: brat-tamer Levi, cockwarming (oral), multiple orgasms (m!recieving), humiliation and degradation ... but also praise, edging (f!recieving), thigh-riding, impact play (f!recieving), calling Levi 'sir' 😵‍💫, throat-fucking, dom/sub elements, ceo!Levi sorta, can be read as dubcon at first

wc: ~4.7k

He’s found you.

You really should’ve expected as much from a man like Levi; finally home properly for the first time in two days after an endless week, and he trudged inside more sharp-tongued and grumpy towards you than usual.

To be fair, you didn’t exactly make things easy for him. You expected him to wrap his strong arms around your waist when you teased him for the dark rings beneath his eyes. You expected weary, slow blinks when you suggested take-out because you snarkily told him you didn’t feel like making dinner. If he wanted it, he’d just have to fetch it himself, and he took that advice of yours to wicked places—much to the growing ache between your legs.

With a click, the oaken door to his office shuts, only the clack of his shoes upon the floor telling you that he’s onto you, that you’re about to lose this twisted game of hide-and-seek.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly with your breaths, muffled against your sweaty palm. There’s lightning in your blood stirring warmth below your waist, all breathed to life by Levi’s hands shortly before now: You, bent in half over the kitchen table, lithe palms feeling up your hips, squeezing the fat of your thighs, taking two handfuls of your breasts through your sheer top in a grip bordering on painful.

The memory of how he spoke, low and dangerous right into the shell of your ear sweeps over you: “I’m not in the mood to fuck around.” Then, one veiny hand taking deliberate hold of both sides of your windpipe when you had the gall to talk back. Your breath caught in your throat then, and he warned you, “You better hide. Carefully. If I find you, you’re in for one tough fuckin’ lesson.”

His slow, measured steps dwarf compared to the march of your pounding heart. Really, you want to be found, not that Levi needs for you let him win to do just that. In a manner almost thoughtful, his fingertips scrape the desk right over your head, where you’re tucked into a tiny corner underneath. An electric shot of fear and heat barrels through you, and a smile threatens to break your lips.

Cockiness thick in his voice, “I know you’re close, bunny."

Fuck. You rub your thighs together as much as you can manage in such a confined spot, and the friction is exquisite. Your breath shakes. He’s teasing you at this point, must be, but you have a feeling you’ll be in for much worse (or better) than that in a moment.

Formal shoes the color of sparkling oil enter your vision straight ahead. The steps pause, and time seems to pause with them—for what you know to be seconds, but trudge along like minutes.

One hand slaps down on the desk, and when Levi crouches down, his dark eyes are squarely on you.

“Found you.”

Your eyes blow wide. “Lev–”

A gasp is wrenched from your throat, two strong arms dragging you by your own up and out of your precious hiding spot. Even through his button-up, now unkempt and wrinkled, his biceps visibly flex with his efforts.

You hiccup a cry in surprise, but you don’t get to savor the sight of him for long—how uncanny it is for Levi to be undone and disheveled, a strained outline between his legs beneath a sleek pair of slacks. You’re abruptly bent over the unforgiving surface of his desk instead, both your hands caught, then pinned at the small of your back by one lithe hand.

“Fucking pathetic, sweetheart. To think you’re so easy.”

A pleasant shiver runs up and down your spine as you flop your head on the desk and make pretend-efforts to struggle. Your heart hammers, but you aren’t afraid, not any more than you should be. Levi didn't spare you an explanation for what you're in for, but you have the safeword on hand anytime you need it.

You're trapped, caged in by a strong body at your back. He kisses his teeth, displeased, and goes to spread your feet apart with the cold leather of his shoe. Just for the hell of it, you decide to play the brat one more time, and kick at his loafers with your bare feet. “Fucking–”

Levi sighs like he's dealing with a petulant child and wrenches the stretchy waistband of your pajama bottoms down; just enough to slam his palm down on the soft fat of your ass—once, twice, four times. You jolt and cry out the sweet buzz of pain.

He huffs at the marks he leaves behind, hot and tender to the touch, and chides you, “Fuck am I gonna do with you? I come home to my pretty wife and I get a shitty brat instead.” Another sheet of pain inspires the first tears to your eyes. “So? Answer me, bunny... Or cat got your tongue?”

You pin your tongue between your teeth. “Fuck you.”

You get a long string of hits for that—to the seat of your ass, the sensitive stretch of skin on the crease of your shaking thighs, and when he gets tired of leaving stinging half-moon marks with his nails, he abruptly yanks your panties up tight enough to elicit a cry at the very top of your throat.

There's a low whistle, as if regarding the damage he's left already, and wiggles the strung lace, playing you. The pull feels perfect on your clit.

Still. It’s humiliating, and just when you think Levi's getting bored, he tightens his grip on your wrists—sure to leave an angry, aching ring—and shoves you down to force your back into a perfect arch. You feel it, his hard cock bullied between the cleft of your ass, barred by pleated cotton. His breath is heavy and hot over your shoulder. You try to say his name.

“Shut up.”

You moan with the sting when he brings his palm down on your pussy. If only he’d touch you. “Levi! Sir, fuck…”

“That’s it. Where were those manners before?”

The sound of his palm slapping your cunt is obscenely wet. As a reflex, your whole body jerks, inches back, giving Levi plenty of room to rut up between your cheeks, hissing soft at the tight heat cradling him there.

“Dirty bitch. Couldn’t just be sweet for me. Talk back, this is what you get,” he sighs, and surprises you by stroking your cunt in almost apologetic motions. Your panties are left an obstacle now more than anything.

Defeated, you go as limp as a doll, a sob threatening to tear through your throat. He pulled them up so tight. The friction is searing, complimented by the pain, but it’s nowhere near enough.

You decide you can’t keep up the act anymore. A string of apologies pour out of your mouth. “–I give up, I'll be good. I’ll be good now.” You hitch the arch of your back up tighter, and roll back against the thick cock prodding at your ass. “Fuck me, sir. Please?”

Your begging goes on deaf ears, though Levi burns with the satisfaction to hear you whine and whimper for him. He gives you the slightest space instead—the opposite of what you want at this point—and lets himself admire what he’s done to you; the severe pull of thin cotton hauled up between the cleft of your ass, exposing soft, battered skin. He throbs.

He's surprised to hear the gruff need in his own voice when he tells you he doesn't believe you. He yanks your panties up as much as he can without tearing and pulls idly, up and down. No doubt it's heaven on your clit, soaked cotton gliding between your lips, and your second, much tighter hole.

“Fuck, Levi!” Your back makes the tightest arch, flaunting your ass towards him. “Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t, shit–”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he chides you. Little do you know, he’s pleased with himself. He could fuck you like this, push right in with no resistance for how soaked your cunt is. He could give you the satisfaction of two or three orgasms—he doesn't doubt you’re close already—or, he could be a little crueler.

Levi palms the front of his slacks idly, and with the absence of his delicious friction, a whine falls from your open mouth. I'm close, you want to say, I'm yours, fucking yours. Use me, but all that comes out is a pitiful excuse for Levi’s name.

His palm makes a sharp impact with your round ass for it. It’s addicting, the sharp jolt he draws from your body, the sound that’s yanked from your throat. You look good too, the fat of your ass jiggling with the impact.

He does it again, then once more, and in a mocking excuse for comfort, strokes the tender skin. You whimper, and it's the most pathetic you've sounded all night.

He's pleased. That’s enough, he decides. “Kneel.”

The command buzzes away brightly in your head, warm and pleasantly fuzzy. You’re slipping, he can tell, so he gives you a little reprieve.

Slender fingers fall in your hair, an unspoken command to pay attention. He knows you have the safeword in mind, but he also needs you to give his thigh two taps if it’s too much. In a moment, your mouth will be stuffed too full of his cock for you to say anything at all.

You jerk your head up and down to show you understand. “Okay.”

“What’s that?”

“Sir,” you breathe, slipping further into the submissive haze. “Yes, sir.”

His lips quirk up at one side. He’s grateful you’re happy to indulge him like this, after an endless, grueling week, you become his pretty cocksleeve and get on your knees for him to use as his favorite toy. Perfect.

The clink of Levi’s belt buckle rings through your fuzzy, dumbed head after you're brought onto your knees, him in his chair. The hard floor hurts, but he looks too good, palming himself idly and the way his chest rises when he does it. He just adores making you watch, forcing you to wait, and it stokes the pleasant burn low in your belly. Your hands toy behind your back, obedient, but so impatient.

As soon as his cock is free, it slaps against his pelvis, heavy and lewdly pink. He takes it in an easy grip, smearing precum from his cockhead past his slit to coat his entire length.

Instinctively, your lips part for him, expectant. Levi takes one look at your puffy lips, velvety tongue lolling out of your sticky mouth, and seizes your hair, ushering you between his thighs. He's out of patience.

Fucking finally, velvety warmth swallows in his fat cockhead. He hears himself huff, his eyes betraying him by slipping shut. It's good, just what he needed. Pleasure licks at him and tears all the week's tension away.

You’ve already begun sweeping your tongue around every bit of him that you can manage, flicking his wet slit. It's too bad he won't let you spend the night suckling the head of his cock.

His hands cage the back of your head, forcing as much of his girth past your tongue you can manage so quickly without choking—his cock is thick, especially down to the base.

He hears himself moan low in his throat, watches with reverie how your eyes squeeze shut and prick with tears.

“Fuck, yeah,” he huffs, wracked with heat. His hips twitch beyond his control, eager for more. It’s perfect, your hot mouth working around him; feels almost as good as your pillowy cunt.

He’s already dragging your head up and down. Vehemently, he has to fight the impulse not to squeeze you in with his thighs. It’s so much more satisfying when he can just take your mouth with abandon—it's hotter, faster. The sounds are practically punched from his chest this way, no matter how he fights to swallow them down.

He can't stop his tongue, either. “Look so good, perfect little slut. All fucking mine. Mine.”

Your moan (from all the praise more than an answer, he bets) comes choked around the thick cock jammed past your lips, prodding for the back of your throat. Your little mouth is so tight, like it struggles just to fit him, let alone let you make a sound.

He grunts with the deep, warm vibrations, and lets his hands strain in your hair. His cock is throbbing already, pulled hot and tight and leaking all over your tongue—and it’s not fair. He takes a good look at the way your throat moves to swallow him in, pink lips forced to stretch wide around his girth, and shudders open-mouthed.

He shoves your mouth down, down to the plump base of his cock, and holds you there, nosing, then burying your face in the dark curls at his pelvis. In an attempt to wrangle the last of his control over himself, he cradles your head between his thick thighs, toes curling in his shoes. Too damn close.

Confused, you make a high, needy noise and strain for precious air through your nose. You hear him gasp, made muffled like a pillow due to his thighs caging in your head. Warm heat rolls through your lower half, and you vaguely register that he must be close. You moan.

Fat, hot tears roll in rivets down your puffy cheeks as you try your best to peek your stinging eyes open. You peer up at him, but the most you can see is the sharp slope of Levi’s jawline as he works it, head thrown back, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You want to see his face. You whine around him again, swallowing frantically, and feel his heavy girth twitch over your tongue.

His head jerks up with a swift gasp. He gets a look at your pretty face pinned between his legs, eyes shiny and red, and slides his palm over your cheek. It’s especially thin here, pulled taut and bulging with himself stuffed inside.

He doesn’t want to come so soon, but he’s so pent up, your sticky mouth too sweet on his cock—unless you keep him warm for a while. It wouldn't be long before he grew hard a second time: the sight of you whittled down to his toy, utterly debauched is enough.

Being mean is one thing, keeping proper communication up entirely something else—especially with you like this, so he thinks to ask. In response, your hands curl around the backs of his knees with a small hum, rubbing your heavy tongue along an especially thick vein down the underside of his cock. The sound he makes is heavy, reeled up from his chest. Good, then.

He put your pretty mouth back into a good rhythm right away, but it's his own thrusts that do more of the work this time. He's relentless in fucking your throat, perfectly paced, but he can't keep from thrusting so shallow. He’s hurled back to the edge right away, and loses that perfect control over his twitching hips as his thighs pick up a small tremble for his climax.

“Dammit,” he gasps, moans with the cushy impact of the back of your throat. Your mouth is so fucking wet, cradling his cock, perfect to fuck. “ Yeah, jus–jus’ like that. Fucking take it–”

His voice cracks, cut off by the first sweltering wave of his climax barreling right through him. It's punctuated with a loud moan, silky and satisfied, and shoves his cock past your tongue one last time as the first ropes of his cum shoot down your throat.

These pleasant, hot tingles stretch down to the tips of his toes up the fucking top of his head from how strong it is, like he’s been hit by train. He can’t help but throw his head back with how you moan all cracked and broken for him, swallowing like you're just dying to drink him down.

You make it last, forcing warm waves to crash over him for a little longer, a little harder. He moans with fingers buried deep in your hair, shudders through the last of the aftershocks, then a little more.

You’ve earned room to breathe. He wrangles his breath as he lazily wipes the fat, cooling tears and sticky saliva off your cheeks, his softening cock still halfway sheathed past your slippery lips.

You welcome the affection like a cat would, lashes fluttering with a soft, brittle hum. It works both ways, the vibrations warming his cock up enough to have him hissing a small sigh, shivering with the pricks of overstimulation.

The best thing he can think to do in the meantime is ramble dejectedly about how fucking shitty this week has been—these shortened deadlines, so much time he’s had to spend under fluorescent lights dealing with idiots rather than in a warm home with you. It doesn’t help that you’re the only person who has even the faintest idea of how Levi likes his tea, so he’s been forced to drink whatever backwash the assistants brew up. It was shitty. It’s been shitty.

“S'good…” Levi sighs a little airly, the warm, slick heat of your mouth positively sucking his cock in like a lollipop. Maybe he was wrong in assuming you were too dazed to process half the shit he was saying.

At his praise, you mewl and kneed the severe muscle of his calves between your fingers. All you can, you want to make this even better for him. His cock is hardening on your tongue again, pulsing gently. Squeezing your thighs together does nothing for your own ache.

Picking up a breezier pace this time, he cants his hips, groans softly. It’s your heavy tongue playing at his slit, the sight of drool prodding at your full lips, stretched thin by his fat cock.

“More.” Obediently, you take him in far enough to nose his pubes, and nuzzle. He smells so fucking good here, peppery and hot, touched by the salty sweat and sweat. “That’s it. Jus’… keep sucking, just like that. Good girl,” he groans, “swallow it.”

His second climax draws his back into the slightest arch, but it catches him to much less of a surprise this time. Warm waves throb even hotter the harsher he uses you, complimented deliciously by your heavy swallowing, your nails giving him sweet pricks of pain with how you cling to him.

In the aftershocks he shivers, warm and pleased and finally relaxed. He blinks down at you, knowing just how out of it you are, and takes care to be gentle as he edges your used mouth off his dick. There’s a sloppy mess smeared all around your puffy lips, dribbling down your chin, but none of it is his. He stews in satisfaction knowing you swallowed every last drop, his perfect girl.

You open your mouth, cough brokenly, and try to ask for water. Levi huffs through his nose, amused, and swipes the bottle he always keeps for work off his desk. You tip your head back, but ironically enough a few drops manage to escape, leaving a trail between your breasts.

Quietly he takes it back from you, and makes you tuck him back in his briefs. You're desperate—it's drawn in your brow, your eyes like round pools of black, and he gets a sick twist of delight, depriving this from you.

Once his belt is done up right and buckled, with all the gentleness of a feather he slips two fingers under your chin. You're a mess; lips lewdly red and puffy, jaw slackened, eyes shining. He knows you’re aching. He smears his thumb across your swelled bottom lip and hums. Despite his efforts to clean you up, your face is sticky with dried teartracks and drool.

“Look at you, bunny,” he drawls, thick with just as much mocking as fondness. “What a mess. C’mere.”

A cracked, broken whimper slips from your lips. He urges you along with his palms on your backside, kneading the red, stinging ache as he guides you into a straddle over one thigh.

Sleek, dark cotton rubs against your pussy just right when you settle in. Your clit throbs, but you have half the mind to know that if you try anything, you aren't guaranteed any satisfaction. This is still Levi's game.

He leisurely settles against the back of his chair, eyes roaming up and down. They glaze over at the sight of your pretty tits, slipping one hand up and sighing evenly of the warm weight of it in his palm. He squeezes, flicking, then working your stiff nipple back to life between two fingers. Your thighs pick up a small tremble. You plead his name.

The heat of your cunt is sloppy and wet, even through the cotton—he feels it. “You’re making a mess of my clothes…” He prods your panties aside, and his thumb lands on your puffy clit, barely rubbing. “Look at that. Fucking dripping for me.”

Your knuckles turn white, gripping the edges of his chair. “C-Can’t…”

“Can’t help it, I know,” he muses. You jolt with another sharp sheet of pain; a smarting sting he rubs away, then squeezes, molding it his palm as if you were nothing but his doll.

He's playing you with a single finger dragging through your soaked slit. Your jaw drops with a tiny moan, and just like that he pulls away, bringing it to his lips for a taste. Your cum rolls over his tongue, thick and a touch sweet.

You're speechless. His eyes are on you, dark and tinted with lust. Your breaths come faster now that his touch has left you, and you dare to try begging again: Please, anything…

His tongue darts out and cleans his lips entirely of you. “Please what? You wanna come?” He brings his palm down on your thigh again, “–ride my thigh then, just like this. You’ve already left a fucking stain. F’you think you’re getting your pretty cunt fucked after that, you’re out of luck, sweetness.”

More of your slick oozes between your thighs, proving just how sweet the humiliation feels in Levi’s low, silky voice. You're gonna come like a bitch on his thigh, if you can—you only have one minute. He chucks a pocketwatch from the depths of a drawer onto the desk, and watches you for any protests, but you’re already lurching forward, seeking a little leverage from his shoulders.

You rut your hips in time with open-mouthed puffs for air and moan. Levi indulges you only a little, an encouraging hand on the small of your back, but his touch fans the flames licking in your lower half anyway. You’re so close, just a little more. Your clit is hot and throbbing.

A pleasant little shudder rolls up and down his spine at the sight of you like this: your pink, gaping mouth to the furrow of your brow, your thighs squeezing his own in a suffocating cradle. Dark smears from your cum on his pant leg lets him know just how wrecked you are. Your tits bounce with every jerk of your hips, growing hastier, more desperate with every thrust. You're getting sloppy already.

His eyes glaze over a little. He gets a little lost in the way you smell, no longer of perfume and soft shampoo, but the stench of sex tinged with sweat. His palms land on your hips without much thinking on his part. You’re curved perfectly here, like your body was made for him to squeeze and hold—all for him.

You can feel it, you’re so close, but you must be running out of precious seconds. Warm waves grow and thrash in your lower half, inspiring your voice to rise, until the shrill chime of the pocketwatch cuts you off. A miserable whine tumbles out of your mouth as you’re forced to slowly, regrettably still on top of him. Levi’s limber body shifts just below, and the chime disappears.

“No, fuck, please—’m so close. Need it.” You lay your eyes on Levi’s deadpan expression, one thin brow raised, and rub the mess between your thighs to put on a show for him. “Please–”

“Quit whining.” Levi stops you with a slap on your thigh, then your pussy. Your entire body jolts with a groan, but still, you instinctively shove your puffy clit against the heel of his palm when he plays you around in circles. “Who's this pussy belong to?”

Heat ripples, and your cunt flutters at the low, possessive grow laced to the question. “You. M’ yours.”

“That’s right. All fucking mine.” Another wet slap right over your clit has your thighs almost pinching closed. He spreads them wide apart again and gives you another, scooping more cum from between your heavy folds. He soothes the ache, and your walls give a harsh flutter. You moan your sweet approval and force your thighs apart, so much they tremble.

He can tell you’re perfectly close to coming just like this, rutting into his palm or his thigh like a dog, and that’s what he's gonna have you do—because your pretty cunt is all his to do with what he pleases, and he wants to watch you fall apart; loves it when his name roll off your tongue, and the way your jaw goes slack; loves it when you gush around his fingers, his tongue, or his cock. He’s feeling far too self-indulgent for a clock to stop him tonight.

The command rumbles by your ear. “Be a good bitch and fuck my thigh. Make a fucking mess.”

You suck in a gasp and shuffle back into position, hugging his thick thigh between your own. He guides you into a rhythm he sets with a steady hold on your hips. Immediately, little gasps are jumping from your throat, and his chest rises and falls almost as heavy as your own. Two orgasms later, he's almost half-hard in his slacks again because of you.

“Harder,” he snarls, “Fuck it harder—there you go. Pretty fuckin’ girl, that feel good?” His short nails sink into the flesh of your round ass. “I bet it does.”

You nod your head like a bumbling doll. “Yes. Yes, sir, I'm...”

Your rhythm isn’t sloppy when you're in Levi's hands. You rut in long, sweeping motions, pressed right up against your swelled clit. He hitches his thigh up, and that’s what does it.

Sweet heat, a sweltering wave, floods you from the tips of your fingers to where your toes have curled up tight. After such an endless build-up, the height of your climax crashes through you. You're left hiccuping a cry, trembling violently under waves of bliss.

You lurch heavily in his arms, humping his thigh outright, but Levi’s got you, murmuring breathlessly in your ear how fucking pretty you sound, crying out his name over his shoulder, and, That’s my girl, come for me. Fucking gush all over my thigh.

With his voice in your ear, his lithe hand guiding the sweeps of your hips—you’re gaping slack and open-mouthed, shaking like a leaf through the last fluttering waves of heat. He urges you along when you grow too weak to carry on, until you can do no more than squeeze your thighs together tight. When you finally grow still, you bask in the heavenly afterglow as your climax whittles away.

He sighs, deep and breezy through his nose, and breathes a small thanks against your rumpled hair. “Are you good?”

“Mm.” It’s the perfect end to a bout of his own brand of stress relief when you nod your head lazily, mumble, “hope I helped.”

Pleased, he strokes your back. “Mm.” Plush kisses, buttery-soft to your temple, your forehead, then your shoulder.

You hum against the sweaty column of his throat, satisfied.

You plan to pamper him this weekend—after Levi and you share a long soak in the bath, a little lotion, and plenty of soft moments just like this; just how you hold each other now.

He can't wait.

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

#fic

502 notes · View notes

vampycherry · 3 years ago

Note

ahahahahahaha

"good girl—that's a good fucking girl."

with levi?

(also your new theme is so adorable I love it)

thank u you're adorable and i love u whoops who said that i mean ahem we're in our enemies arc right?? *nervous laughter*

anyways consider this revenge for the daddy kink superior oneshot u posted

content: fem bodied reader x dom levi, they are smoking WEED, thoughts about death and existentialism, implied reader's first time getting high??? idk just roll w it it's literally the internet, college au, best friends to lovers, i'm a comedic genius, various mentions of kinks (degradation, bondage, furries????) but not actually used in the fic, praise kink, DADDY kink omfg. finger fuckin happy 420, i did not reread this or edit it in the slightest enjoy my absolute unhinged inner workings, minors and ageless blogs do not interact!

wc: a little over 3k i just wanna sleep

prompt event closed! i am no longer taking requests! (:

Smoke is a weird concept. How it billows like clouds, streaming up and up and up, aimlessly going nowhere, anywhere. It’s even weirder to think how the fog, moments ago, brewed within the wet caverns of your lungs. You can’t feel it, the way it hangs in your lungs, and for a split second it’s hard to believe the haze was ever inside of you at all.

But it flows so smoothly between your lips as you exhale, and if the burning plant so lovingly bundled in a backwoods cigar casing was anything but weed, you’d consider it poisonous. Hell, maybe it still is, but isn’t that what life is all about anyways? Living, regardless of what may draw your ending a bit closer than before? It’s trivial anyways. Who wants to live their life clean cut and without the impending fear of it all suddenly ending by their own doing? Sounds quite boring.

“You still with me?” Levi nudges your side, arching an eyebrow.

You shake your head, blinking away your thoughts, “Are we ever really here?”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” his tongue clicks against his teeth, plucking the blunt away from your frozen fingers. “Should’ve never let you convince me to try this.”

“You don’t even know what I was thinking about,” your spine slumps against the back of his couch.

The lights in Levi’s living space are so pretty, twinkling like little fairies, dancing about and giggling in their foreign tongue. You’re not hallucinating, just romanticizing the mundane, fixating on the dim yellow light that leaves soft shadows across his dorm. You’re glad he doesn’t have any roommates at the moment, they’d probably distract you from taking in your thoughts. They’re coming at lightspeed.

You’re practically a roommate by now anyways. You basically live here. You have your own drawer filled with clothes inside of Levi’s dresser. You’d worry that Levi gets lonely, but he doesn’t, not when he has you around.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Are you a mind reader now?” you snort. “Distract me then. It’s pretty easy at the moment.”

“How are you feeling?” his eyes shift over your lazed form, relaxed and unburdened.

You purse your lips, concentrating on the bridge of his nose, “I feel good. Can’t stop thinking thoughts.”

“Ground breaking,” Levi’s lips twitch before he places the cigar to his mouth. He takes a deep inhale, holds it for a beat, exhaling soundlessly. “Care to share these thoughts?”

“I might kill the vibe,” you giggle.

He chuckles, “Us sitting here in complete silence already did.”

“What if I don’t shut up?” your knee knocks into his playfully. “What if I just talk forever and ever, going on and on and on–”

The blunt is shoved in front of your face, you eye it quizzically as Levi says, “Nevermind. I liked the silence.”

“Mean,” you roll your eyes, reaching out for the drug.

It’s burned down to a roach now, or at least that’s what you think it’s called. You’re not exactly sure, as this is the first time in your life you’ve ever gotten high. After several weeks of begging Levi to let you try it. It’s all part of the college experience, you reasoned, to which he told you getting a degree is more important. He’s overbearing a lot of the time, but it’s just because he cares. You think. You’ve been friends for too long to really criticize his intentions.

The heat licks at the tips of your fingers, and it’s painful to hold, so you squeak to Levi, “I can’t. It’s hot.”

“Such a baby,” he sighs, taking the roach back. “Whiny and introspective, what a combination.”

You frown, glaring as you respond, “I hardly know what I’m doing, smart ass.”

“You want me to hold it for you, baby?” Levi mocks you, but in this state of mind, the tease sounds a lot more suggestive than it actually is.

Oh, so weed makes you horny. Got it.

“Please?” you smile lazily.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

Once again, the blunt is placed in front of your face. You don’t really understand how Levi isn’t flinching back from the flame. With the way he holds it, the lit end narrowly escapes brushing into the inside of his thumb. He has to feel the heat culminating in his palm, but he doesn’t react.

You shift forward, leaning in to place your mouth on the cigar. The tips of his digits brush against your lips, and suddenly you feel like you can’t breathe properly. Not when he’s staring so attentively at you, pressing his fingers into the soft skin of your mouth to ensure you get a good hit.

Maybe getting smoked out by Levi was a bad idea after all. Usually you’re able to quiet these feelings and thoughts. Your brain is too spacious of a place to hide them right now, so your heart beats faster. Not because of the weed, but because you can’t stop thinking about your enormous crush on your best friend.

Despite the internal bombardment of your psyche, you take a deep breath, the smoke fills your lungs, and you’re exhaling. You repeat, Levi’s hand unwavering in front of you. Your exhales flirt around his palm, curling around his fingers, kissing the tips goodbye when it's their time to ascend to the ceiling.

“There you go,” he mumbles. “Good girl.”

The silence is booming after the words fall from his lips. Your eyes are stuck on his, silver irises lovingly caressed by inky soft pinks and reds, blooming from the corners of his eyes to the centers. They’re even more striking like this. The contrast is alarmingly beautiful, and soon enough, you’re fixated.

As if you don’t stare Levi down every time you’re in his company. Perhaps now you’re just stupidly self aware of it.

Levi studies your expression, and it must be telling because he says, “What was that?”

“What was what?” you deflect, watching on as he stubs out the blunt in an ashtray on his coffee table.

His pointer finger pokes the tip of your nose, “That look. Don’t tell me you’re into that.”

“Into what?” you respond, heart racing just a bit faster.

“Getting called a good girl,” his voice dips lower. “Fuck, you totally are. You should see your face right now.”

“Then stop saying it!” you laugh out of embarrassment, swatting his palm away to bury your face in your own hands. You yell through the cracks of your fingers, “Fuck off!”

“That’s not how good girls speak, now is it?” Levi forces your hands from your cheeks, shoving them down into your lap. He squeezes your wrists together, the sensation rippling through your body, creating a domino effect of desire.

Fuck.

“What’s your kink then, huh? What weird shit are you into?” you attempt to divert the attention away from you, yanking your hands away from his hold.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? What the fuck are you– Ow! That fucking hurts!”

Your fingers grip at his hair, tugging and pulling at the roots, “Not into pain then. Not your own, at least.”

“Slap yourself and see if it turns me on,” Levi grumbles, smoothing over where you’d yanked.

“Funny.” You had considered for a second. A high, stupid second.

Your eyes flit over his face, his dark brows furrowed and eyes suspicious. His posture is tense, but Levi is always tense. His knees are spread apart, back stiff against the cushioning of the couch. His left forearm rests at his side, his right still cradling his head.

“Degradation,” you narrow your gaze.

“Nope. Try again.”

“Ropes.”

“Not the one I was really thinking of.”

“So there is one big one?”

“You’re never going to guess it. Give up.”

You snap your fingers, smiling ear to ear, “I got it! You’re a furry!”

Levi doesn’t even entertain you with a response. The deadpan glare is enough.

You laugh a bit too hard, “Okay, okay. Um, shit. You’re into someone, or you, getting dressed up in an outfit.”

“I’m not a fucking furry.”

“No, no!” you giggle. “Like a sexy maid! Or fancy lingerie!”

“It’s nice, but no, that’s not the one,” his eyes sparkle, humor thick in his voice.

“Ropes and lingerie are cool, not into degrading,” you think out loud. “Are you a top or a bottom?”

“That’ll make it obvious.”

“How?”

“It just will.”

You look at Levi then, really look at him. From the solid clench in his jaw, to the way he claims his space so unapologetically, laid out against his sofa. His eyes are determined, fierce, and you’ve spent far too many nights imagining how deep the colors turn as he hovers over your body, thrusting in and out, praise after praise dripping from his lips like honey. How his hands would so perfectly wrap around your waist, your thighs, your throat. He’s got a filthy mouth on him, so you gather that it reaches a new altitude when he’s in the throes of pleasure. You think he might even growl when he cums.

Levi is the definition of confidence. A confident person must have a confident kink.

And then suddenly, it clicks.

“I figured it out,” your tone shifts, dropping lower. You move your body closer until the outside of your thigh touches his, hovering your lips above his ear. “Aren’t you a nasty little thing?”

“I already told you, I’m not into degradation,” there’s a mild waver in his speech.

“I know you’re not, daddy.”

Levi stiffens completely next to you, his breath caught in his throat. You smirk triumphantly, and try to ignore the creeping of heat in the pit of your stomach. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the squeezing in your core transforming into a furious pounding, maybe it's all the years of denying your feelings coming to a head – you place a bold hand on his thigh, thumb stroking along the inseam of his sweatpants.

“Well,” your lips brush along the shell of his ear. “Am I right, daddy? Is this your kink?”

“Stop,” Levi grits out, fists clenching at his sides.

“You didn’t stop when you found mine out,” you pout. “Why should I?”

“You really don’t want to test me. I promise you that you won’t like it,” he snarls.

“I’m sort of curious,” your touch trails higher. You wonder if he’s getting hard right now. “Why do you like being called daddy?”

Levi says your name in a low warning, “Knock it off. I’m serious.”

“Why? Is it turning you on?” You’re utterly consumed by the lust blossoming in your center, drunk (high) off the knowledge that Levi has a fucking daddy kink. Who could’ve guessed it? “It’s only fair.”

“Fair because I turned you on?” he whips his head toward you, staring fiercely into your eyes. “Is your pussy wet from me telling you how you were such a good girl, taking that hit like that?”

“I don’t know daddy, is it?”

“Are you going to be good and let me find out? Or,” he grips your wandering wrist, guiding you back slowly down until your spine meets the padded seats of the sofa. You’re shaking, head swimming in the realization that Levi, your best friend and the person you’ve thought about while touching yourself for years, is really looming over you. His trembling breaths fan across your face, his free hand smoothing up your waist, “Are you going to a bratty little girl like you’ve been the past five minutes?”

You don’t want to choose. You want to be both. You gape up at him instead of answering, pulse pounding in your eardrums and body squirming under his intense focus.

He doesn’t like that.

“Tell me you’re going to listen,” his pupils are dilated, his expression unhinged and positively wild.

“Yes!” you rush out. You feel like you’re on fire.

“Yes, what?”

With a quivering voice, you blink up at him, “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” Levi coos. “Spread your legs.”

Your body goes on autopilot, opening yourself open to his hungry gaze and domineering timbre. You’re glad you wore shorts tonight — it’ll be incredibly easy to take them off in a minute.

His hazy eyes flirt down from your face, taking in the sight of your clothed body parting for him. His bottom lip is tugged by his front teeth, bouncing back into place moments later. His hands wander all over — the tops of your shoulders, the curve over your breasts, the plush of your stomach, the tops of your thighs. You almost wish you could take a picture of his face, but it’s ingrained in your memory now. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget the way Levi’s looking at you.

“It might be wrong of me to admit,” his voice is thick with desire. “But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about this.”

Your heart leaps in your chest, “Me too.”

His attention darts back to your eyes, mouth agape, “Really?”

You nod, “I’ve imagined this for the past three years. Ever since we became friends.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Levi rasps, fingers curling along the waistband of your shorts.

“Why didn’t you?” you respond with your own question.

“Didn’t think you’d feel the same,” his nails scratch along your lower belly. “But I don’t think I can control myself anymore.”

“Then don’t.”

A fire ignites in his eyes, gripping and passionate, and he lunges in. His lips attach to yours ferociously, swallowing every whimper and gasp you exhale upon collision. His hand slides past the barrier of your clothing, dipping dangerously along the outskirts of your panties. You buck your hips, kissing him back with equal desperation, pouring as much of yourself as you can into his attention.

Levi groans into your mouth, trailing the tips of his fingers along your clothed slit, “Fuck, you are wet.”

“Touch me, please,” you beg, your palms circling the back of his neck.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Your panties slide to the side, and his middle finger generously swipes along your folds, collecting arousal and desire and years of yearning. The tip circles your clit, nudging the bud side to side, your pussy clenches around nothing.

“You’re gonna cum from my fingers, okay?” Levi asks, but it sounds more like a demand. “And if you stop kissing me, I won’t let you. Understood?”

You whimper, “Yes, fuck, please Levi, need you so bad.”

“Say it,” he begs. “Fucking say it for me baby.”

“Please, daddy,” you plead, high pitched and uncontrolled.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he pecks your lips, sweetly affectionate. His palm flattens on your cunt, using every digit to rub toe curling patterns against your clit. You shutter, desperately kissing every piece of skin around his mouth you can grab onto.

When Levi’s fingers position at your entrance, knuckles slowly sinking in the gushing heat of your center, you scream, “Oh fuck! Oh my fucking god, fuck, I can’t—“

“Use your words,” he slurs his speech, entirely engraved in the feeling of your cunt squeezing the life out of his digits.

“Feels so good,” you whine, nearly incoherent.

It’s almost a perfect fit. Levi’s fingertips curl, pressing up into a spot inside you that leaves you utterly breathless, thoughtless. Shameless, even — your wanton moans make for a beautiful stifled orchestra against his lips.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good before. Not with yourself, not with another partner, no one other than Levi. He strokes every right spot in your pulsing walls, though they pound and grip and writhe under his authority. It flows easily through the push and pull of your pleasure, allowing the meat of his palm to rub and grind against your throbbing clit.

You’re not sure if it’s the weed or Levi, but you’re about to cum. Embarrassing fast.

“Slow down,” you gasp, clawing at the skin of his neck, trying to ground yourself by whatever means you can.

“I know, I know,” he doesn’t relent. Instead, he fucks his fingers harder, faster, “But I’m selfish, sweetheart. I wanna see you cum, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You try to shake your head no, pleading with your eyes. You want this to last, you don’t want to give up this moment so easily. The speech is mangled on your tongue, the docile fire in your stomach churning into a raging inferno at rapid speed. You can’t move, despite your best efforts. You rock your hips, unable to control yourself, and sink your teeth into Levi’s plush bottom lip.

He moans, loud and obscene, “Squeezing me so fucking tight, so fucking wet. Cum for me, fucking cum. Cum for daddy.”

It happens all at once. Your limbs lock, your spine bends upwards, and every nerve in your body trembles. You scream soundlessly into Levi’s mouth, eyes wide open, you can’t even breathe.

It’s earth shattering. It’s mind blowing. You can’t think. Your body pounds, heartbeat in your throat and brain thrown out the window. Then, the squeezing. You can feel every bend and curve of Levi’s knuckles, every circle he draws inside your soaking heat, the way he pins and grinds his hand against your pulsing clit. It’s euphoric, without a description. It simply just happens. You wouldn’t be sure you were there for it, had you not felt every inexpressible quake of your orgasm rip through you like a tsunami.

“Good girl, that’s a good fucking girl,” Levi growls in praise, pressing his digits in as far as your cunt will allow him to go.

Your eyes roll back into your head, the come down from your high so slow and agonizing in the way it feels as though it will never end. As if you’ll be suspended in your climax forever, or at least until Levi pulls his thick fingers from you, whichever comes first.

When your pussy finally releases the full range of tension, the shorter contractions allowing you to breathe, Levi continues to keep his rhythm.

You whimper, overstimulated and way too sensitive to keep going at his set pace, “Can’t, too much.”

“One more, one more,” Levi’s eyes swirl, breathing erratic and heavy. “Just one more. Give me one more.”

“Want you,” you try, attempting to move your hips away. It’s so overwhelming, all of it, all of his attention, all of his touch, all of his motion. You feel tears prick behind your eyes, helpless moans stuck behind your teeth.

“After,” he responds, expression hard and determined. “I’ll fuck you then, just one more.”

You nod, sniffling as the pain begins to morph back into that mind numbing pleasure. He grins, wolfish and all too satisfied.

“Knew you could listen. Such a good fucking girl, my good girl.”

#fic

727 notes · View notes

vampycherry · 4 years ago

Note

hi! i recently came across your first times anthology and i absolutely love how you write levi - it’s the BEST depiction of him that i’ve read in a fic! thank you for your beautiful work! if it’s okay with you, can i please request a levi x reader fic with dom levi smut, after reader calls him cute too many times and levi tries to prove he’s more than just ‘cute’?! hope that makes sense & thank you!!

thank you!!! ive been working overtime on anthology lately i love it sm :) i hope you like this too!! i set it in canonverse, hope thats good with you!

-vya

wc: ~1.3k

content/warnings: doggy position, levi teaches you.. a lesson, a little humiliation, begging, creampie (f!recieving), some daddy kink (couldn't resist), captain kink(?), impact play (f!recieving), rough sex

“Still just ‘cute’?”

You hiccup a cry as Levi folds your knees, pinning your thighs to your chest. He bears down on you, effectively caging you in and slipping his cock in so much deeper than before. Sweaty skin slaps together with each wet smack of his balls against your pelvis.

A ruthless fuck is what you get for cooing how cute Levi is in his ear, all day today; now he’s got something to prove.

“Too fucked-out to think? Let’s fix that.” A lithe hand buries in your hair, and sweet pain follows it, wrenching your head up. In dim light, his eyes look blazing. “Tell me how cute I am when you come all over my cock.”

Your cunt flutters around him, your walls dragging with his thrusts. You can't even think. “God–”

Hot breath puffs against your throat, licking the salty sweat, soothing plenty of bruises he's already made with his teeth—now he’s adding a few more. There’s no resistance between your bodies, not with a mess—your mess—of slick slathering your thighs, coating Levi’s dick from how much you’ve gushed around him. Your hamstrings burn with the press he’s trapped you in, but you’re rapidly approaching your next peak; so it doesn’t matter, not with how good he fucks you.

He throbs with your tightening cunt, the way you practically swallow him inside. “Really gonna come again? That was fuckin’ quick—what a slut.”

“Yours.” you grope across the rigid plane of his back, urging him closer. “Need it, fuck me so good–“

Pride burns through him, a moan passing from his lips before he can stop it. He’d love to hear more of it; make you prove it.

You whine, confused as his cock slips out of you. With glossy eyes, you sputter, open-mouthed. “Wha–?”

“Need it? I don’t believe you.”

Levi’s palms land on your thighs, effectively spreading them apart. At last, your stinging muscles ease, but not before his fingers are dancing up and down your soaked slit, spreading the slick mess of his own cum that’s trickled out of you, and so much of your own.

He commands you to touch yourself. “Fingers, too. Let’s see if it’s half as good without me.”

The humiliation of it has you whimper, but your hand eagerly falls between your thighs anyway, eager to please. You both know Levi could give a shit less how cute you find him; you get a kick out of teasing him so he can burn with the pride of blowing your mind.

“That's my girl. Faster.”

He slaps the fat of your thigh, roughly kneading the searing skin where it’s long-since gone red with his own brand of discipline. Each sting makes your pleasure burn brighter, but your own fingers shakily fondling your clit still don’t compare to his, and especially not his cock splitting you open. You clench around nothing, horribly empty.

“Please, sir,” you beg, slipping your palm over your clit and grinding against it. “Need your cock—s’only you, please.”

“Try harder.”

Levi lands another slap to the seat of your thigh and crawls back between your thighs, palms wandering, squeezing. He doesn’t tell you enough just how much he loves your body—sweet and soft, curved in all the right places. What’s sweeter is the moan that tumbles from your lips, with nothing but a few words on his part.

He scoops your tits up in his palms, sighing with the gentle weight of them. You’ve just begun more of your begging when you take three fingers and slip them inside—it’s not enough, and gives you nothing like Levi. Yours are sloppy, uncoordinated.

There’s something even more thrilling about letting his dick twitch and idle in the crease of your pelvis, right where you need him to push inside, and doing nothing about it. He’ll give you what you need as he pleases; and you’ll still let him flood you with his cum all he wants.

“Cockslut,” Levi tuts, smearing a little drool that’s dribbled from your gaping mouth, squeezing your soft tit in his palm. It’s sore and tender from his teeth, pink nipples aching from his sucking. You look perfect.

“Capt’n, Capt’n,” you babble, playing with your puffy clit. You can’t fuck yourself any harder with so little space left between your bodies. Building pleasure pelts you in waves, but no climax you could give yourself won’t compare; not your first, and not now, at your third.

He hums, watching your features scrunch with your impending climax. He really can’t decide—whether to let you push yourself through a few poor waves of pleasure by yourself, put your warm, sticky mouth around his cock again, or fill you with more of his cum. You’ve clearly learned your lesson; you whimper and whine for him like you need him more than air.

“C-Close…”

“Enough,” he grunts, and slaps your tit, watching with reverie as it wobbles, and the way you gape, forced to feel the waves wittle back down to an ache.

You pull your hands away, and slip the three sticky and webbed with your cum between your puffy lips. His own part, watching your eyes slink half-closed, sucking them in, eyes on him. His cock throbs. “Shit.”

“Y-Yeah,” your voice comes cracked and sloppy between your fingers, only to cry out with the shock of his palm landing on your pussy, smearing all your juices around. His cock is next, his thick girth forcing your glistening slit open for him; it almost looks like a cradle.

He’s too damn close just from watching. It’s too enticing to thrust back into your pretty pink heat, so he urges you onto all fours with another slap on your smarting ass.

No doubt you’ll be sporting a couple new bruises tomorrow—maybe he’ll just have to excuse your duties for the day so he can lay between your thighs for a few hours; an apology, a damn good one. A reward. The idea ignites more heat in his belly, along with the sounds you make. It sounds like it comes from the very top of your throat—pleading him to fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

He forces your head against the pillows, ass in the air. You arch your back and spread your legs far apart, pert little ass waving in the air.

“Look at you. Now who’s cute?” he huffs, pumping his cock in new preparation for your cunt, and pushes right in. Your walls are fluttering, warm and velvety before his balls can even slap against your ass. He groans.

You’re hurled right back to the edge. Moaning, “Daddy!”

“Yeah.” Open-mouthed, he cradles your hip with one hand, draped over your back. His hips snap with the pace he sets, already utterly tripping over the rhythm. When you get to calling him that, it always does. “Always so fucking tight. Pussy was fucking made for me. So damn good–”

Your entire body tremors with the force of the first sweltering wave. Each cry—a stuttered mess of his name, of Captain or Daddy—is punctuated by another thrust. The lewd, wet sounds of your bodies slapping together aren't even as loud as you, and you're all for him.

Levi’s brow furrows, pink lips dropping apart as your cunt squeezes his cock tight. He collapses over your back, groans in your hair, and pulses in your heat. His balls draw up, his climax like a fucking train completely barreling through him, white-hot. With a low, pleased groan drowned under your moans of his name, he shoots deep inside you.

Considering all the orgasms you’ve milked from him tonight, he comes harder than he thought he had left. You’re panting hard through your open mouth, which he presses a lazy kiss to, then your hair, lost in the pleasurable buzz of the aftershocks. You both need a moment to even come back to yourselves, let alone catch your breath.

When Levi does lug himself up and lets his cock slip from your pussy, his girth is coated in your slick. More—his hot, sticky cum—trickles from your hole, down your thighs. He rubs the tremors out of them, pleased.

Yeah, he decides you’re definitely getting a reward, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll let you call him cute a little more often.

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

#fic

1K notes · View notes

vampycherry · 4 years ago

Text

Embrace of the sun

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem!afab!Reader

Summary: Morning musings with your lover turn into something a little more heated.

Word count: 5.0k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings and tags: Established relationship, civilian Reader, lots of fluff in the beginning followed with explicit smut: penis in vagina sex, oral sex (both M and F recieving), handjob, vaginal fingering, hand kink, praise kink, missionary position. I like to think they are both switches in this but the dom/sub undertones are extremely subtle because it doesn’t go extremely in either way. Minors DNI, this is not for you.

Notes: Just some good ol’ morning sex with our lovely Captain. This originally started out as a fluffy short drabble and… it spiralled into this, so enjoy. Also this is my first NSFW piece ever, so I’d love it if you let me know how I did! I really didn’t realise how hard smut is to write until I wrote this… how on earth do smut writers pump out amazing smut pieces on the daily? What kind of otherworldly power do you guys possess? I must know. Respect. (As I am posting this I am currently ill with COVID - I tried to proofread to the best of my ability but yeah)

You come to slowly, engulfed in the warmth of the thick duvet and the faint but pleasant scent of detergent that clings to the sheets with the very same fervour you had last night. The sheets are pleasantly soft against your bare skin, nearly lulling you back to sleep.

The quietest of sighs escape you as you strain to open your eyes. It’s a little while past dawn - the sunlight filters gently through the half-open curtains, lighting up the walls, the sheets, and most importantly your half-awake lover sitting at the windowsill with the curtains partially open, sipping his freshly-brewed cup of tea and staring out of the window, lost in thought.

It’s an endearing ritual of his - to slip out of bed and sit by the windowsill to soak up the morning rays and bask in the embrace of the sun. You can’t even complain about waking up to an empty bed, for the angelic sight of him curling up to fit on the windowsill, dressed in rumpled pyjamas and sporting impressive bedhead, is a delight.

You sleepily recall the first time you’d asked Levi why he does this every morning without fail, even on mornings where he’s feeling extra tired and eventually returns to bed with you for another few minutes’ doze, or on mornings where the sensation of your warm skin bare against his remains fresh in his memory and he fervently slides under the sheets to feel your awaiting touch once more.

“I never want to forget what it is to feel the sun’s rays and it’s warmth on my skin. It’s… I know, it’s stupidly sentimental, but I never want to take the sun for granted,” Levi had told you that day, voice softer than a loving lullaby. You’ve heard of the horrors of the Underground, Lower Mitras being the worst of them all, and you are so, so grateful that Levi made it out, carved a life for himself up top, under the watchful eye of the sun.

Keep reading

#fic

939 notes · View notes

vampycherry · 4 years ago

Text

MORDANT | Part II | Part I Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader

summary— Mordant (adj): 1. Biting and caustic in thought, manner, or style, 2. acting as a mordant (as in dyeing), 3. burning, pungent. Derived from the Latin word mordere (to bite). → Tannins over dinner + shared apéritifs.

content warnings— aot season 3 spoilers, angst, aggression, mentions food and eating, drinking, alcohol, smut, swearing, fingering, blood in general, period sex, oral sex, penetration, established relationship

word count— 9530

a/n— the pleasure is all mine to repost the first fic I ever wrote for aot and levi ackerman. This is part 2.

20+ ONLY. UNDER 20, MINORS, & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

If you click read more or keep reading, you imply that you are not a minor, are 20 years or older and consent to read this content.

Levi leaned on the corner of his desk as he shuffled various papers across the surface. Shadows stretched across the small office and obscured his sign off on the last of the day’s paperwork: a maintenance order for his squad’s armory, inventory, and Hange’s expense reports.

Distracted by the pull of your shared quarters, he stared longingly at the door. You were behind the oak barrier, perhaps tending to your body, maybe finding relief in a book, or possibly sleeping. Now that his duties were complete, he could check to see if you felt better in the last hour before dinner. He hoped you would join him so he could see you eat a balanced meal and enjoy the precious downtime afforded to you. Ultimately, he expected you to take care of yourself, which, from his point of view, meant nourishing your body back to health.

Levi bent further across the desk to collect the organized documents. He quickly straightened his posture when he remembered the small package in his front pant pocket. Thumbing the envelope, he drew it up and out of his pants and held it closer to his face. It was on the floor before his office door, its presence unknown until Levi was halfway through his office hour. Hange must have slipped it under the crack while he was lost in crunching her operations numbers.

He squinted, flipping the matte gray package over in his fingers. It was sealed at both ends, one side with a white wax seal indicating the end he should open. On the other side, Hange’s scratch handwriting peppered the surface.

This is a dental dam. ________ will know what it is. Don’t return the favor. <3 - HZ

Levi knew what the package entailed. It was one of the several stray pieces of knowledge he had collected in his youth.

Hange is... a practical brat. Levi exhaled as he peeled back the wax seal to examine the contents. Another envelope, this time transparent, held a folded square of thin material.

Levi almost laughed out loud. A barrier so he wouldn’t have to witness ________’s humanity up close? He closed the package. It was an option. It was an option out of all the choices he had to ensure you felt impossibly good and to keep you, for as long as possible, in the place where only your shared passion existed.

Once Levi finished transferring the paperwork into his outbox, the sun was behind the wall. As he stood, he caught a whiff of himself. He could smell his faint grit and stale sweat. Training with the scouts was not on his original itinerary today, but he needed an energy outlet and alternative for his frustration beyond making an example of Eren.

He began unbuckling the harness straps across his left thigh, wishing his hands were yours. It would be fun to watch you struggle. Unfastening the straps was often a difficult task for you, even with your nimble fingers. He’d look down at your pretty face, pouting, or your tongue stuck slightly out in concentration. Your light and rough touches would start to tickle him. His sensitivity was a well-kept secret between the two of you. Of course, he’d tease you back, poke you with his words and his inevitably solid dick.

The harness hung off his left thigh, swinging with his strides and lightly rubbing his groin. You had, to put it lightly, whet his appetite.

The door hinges sounded awfully loud as he crossed the threshold and into the room. His eyes adjusted to the dim as he slowly scanned for your presence. You were side sleeping beneath the blanket you had gifted to him to mark the sixth month of your companionship. Your body moved evenly with your breath beneath the olive green expanse.

With quick, silent steps, Levi approached your bedside. He kneeled, wincing as the harness clacked against the floor. He sighed, remembering just how clean the bedsheets were and just how dirty he currently was.

He was currently eye level with your sleepy ones. You were blinking slowly, adjusting to the tunnel vision and heavy brain fog that came with your waking life this week. Carefully, Levi reached for your hair, tracing his fingers over your crown and down to your nape. With his arm extended across the mattress, he kept his hand at the base of your neck.

“_______.” Levi sighed. His position offered his sore muscles a searing stretch, across his buttocks, past his hamstrings, and up through his obliques. Shifting to his knees, Levi braced himself against the side of the bed, resting his chin on the mattress. You felt safe within his hold as you let your weariness pull you away from the man before you. You mumbled over your thirsty tongue, “I hurt.”

Frowning, Levi used his free hand to run his thumb across your dry lips, moving to your chin to thumb away at a speck of drool. Without your resistance, Levi watched you fall back into your slumber.

Levi shed his clothing on the way to the restroom. He’d wash up quickly so he could return to bed with you. It wouldn’t hurt to be late for dinner. The water heater performed its work slowly at the end of the day when others were undoubtedly testing its capacity. Levi stood before the sink, watching his mirrored reflection gradually obscure as steam filled the room. His thoughts weren’t much, save for the agitation at his edges and his primal wiring attempting to override his pre supper plans.

In the shower, Levi immediately reached for the soap and wash rag to cleanse away the day. He focused on the scent in an attempt to ignore the pulse between his legs. He washed his face, behind his ears, and continued down to his collar. He lathered the hair under his arms, ran his hands over his chest, and the scars on his abdomen.

His dick jumped.

He scrubbed his thighs, the backs of his knees, and massaged his calves. His cock was snug as he bent in a forward fold. He focused on his feet, examining his toes while scrubbing his ankles. He slowly rolled his spine to straighten his posture. Feeling dizzy and unsteady, he slowly stroked soapy suds over his rigid member, eventually reaching down to his balls before he could get carried away. He turned away from the showerhead to stretch his asshole, allowing a deeper cleanse and a tightened massage. Levi lingered in the sensation.

The opened door revealed the wash of dusk tinting the empty bedroom. Levi’s naked body emerged from the bathroom, the soles of his feet padding across the cold floor, stopping short of the empty bed. He rummaged through his bed drawers, finding a pair of briefs and socks. You hadn’t given him the courtesy of making the bed, leaving an opportunity for him to chastise you in his mind and to trace your aroma and the sting of your fertility.

He turned to the mirror hanging from the side of the oak armoire and watched himself pull his socks to his calves, hoping he wouldn’t have to don them for much longer.

You turned away from the beverage station, cupping the fragile ceramic in your hands. Peppermint was supposed to be soothing. It was Levi’s choice of herbal, after all.

Sasha waved her hands overhead from her station at the far end of the dining hall. She shouted, “________! Do you have some time?” Sasha gestured to a thick leather-bound folio sitting next to her empty plate. Connie rifled through the pages.

You couldn’t quite hear her through the din of conversation, but you knew your friends wanted your attention. You hoped your appearance wasn’t too disheveled, but it was common knowledge you weren’t feeling your best.

You were grateful to have a place to sit as you settled on the bench across from the soldiers with your back facing the entrance. Your cramps were squeezing your insides, and the gravity and lack of support from standing did not ease the pressure in your labia.

Connie straddled the bench, his body facing Sasha. You were careful not to linger too long on his bare arms and nimble fingers.

“What’s up?”

“________, your man brutalized us today,” Connie deadpanned, waving his fork in your direction.

You sipped your tea slowly. “Are you better for it?”

Connie opened his mouth and shut it, pausing to consider your question.

“Yes,” Connie nodded, “Hell yes.” He aggressively bit into his dinner.

Sasha smirked, recalling the small piece of conversation she had caught between Hange and Captain Levi. “Our brains are so full. How are you feeling?”

You fiddled with the tea bag in your cup. “I’m… feeling. I’ll make up for today tomorrow, I’m sure.” You alluded to the scheduled cleaning regimen.

“Well,” Sasha started, “I brought you this!” She slid the book across the table.

“What is it?” You opened the cover, scanning the first page.

Cultivated and Foraged Botanical Dyes.

Year 850. Dauper.

Your jaw dropped. Sasha’s smile met her eyes.

Turning the pages, you found a rainbow of linens, silks, cotton, and roving, organized by plant source and fixative mineral. This was a valuable resource, probably one of its kind.

“How?” Your eyes were wide as you thumbed the beautiful combination of 4 dips of indigo and silk. It was a neutral blue, reminiscent of a bluebird day. The blue reminded you of distance.

“The book arrived yesterday. I wrote my family and told them about you. My mom has tons of swatches and dye experiments going every season.” Sasha admired the neat handwriting next to your fingers.

“So these must be the plants she can find around Dauper.”

“Mostly. I think she has a section for extracts, but there’s not a lot of pages.” Sasha replied. You turned to the last section, finding bright oranges, blues, and deep reds. “Whoa. I’ve never heard of this.” You ran your fingers over a purple flag of roving. You carefully pronounced the word, “Coh-shi-neel. Cochineal? Where does your mom get cochineal?”

“No idea. Mom sometimes finds extracts from traveling merchants or gifts.” Sasha took a sip from her water glass.

“This method requires an iron post-bath to get purple. It’s a pure scarlet, otherwise.” You gestured toward the notes in the margins. Sasha nodded, hoping you would divulge more information on how her mother achieved other colors. Her gaze slowly transcended to the space above your head.

A touch of light hands on your shoulders, then a short, firm squeeze. You leaned into the taut linen behind you. Looking up, your eyes met a narrowed pair of darkened silver. You grinned.

“Did you eat?” Levi questioned.

You shook your head. “Not yet.” You lifted the book to the top of your crown so Levi could get a good look at the swatch book. “Look what Sasha’s Mom sent!”

Levi glanced down at the vibrant page, then at Sasha and Connie’s chewing, then at your fingers holding the book’s edges. He lifted his hands to cup the outside of yours and pushed inward, closing the book. You frowned and lowered the book to your chest. Before you could protest, Levi uttered, “That is very thoughtful and generous, Sasha. Can she borrow it for a couple of weeks?”

Your eyes widened, and you tugged at Levi’s pant pocket. How could he be so forward!?

Sasha nodded slowly, absorbing the compliment from her superior. “It’s for ________. For keeps.”

“No way!” Your heart could burst. “Thank you, Sasha.”

Impatient and hungry, Levi turned his attention to you. He gently tugged on your hair, so your head tilted backward to meet his gaze once again. “Keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll get you a plate.” Releasing his hold, Levi turned on his heel, leaving you blushing lightly. You quickly reopened your gift, filling in the silence with occasional questions about the geography and ecology of Sasha’s home.

Steaming pasta and roasted vegetables appeared next to the book, Levi following and settling into the space next to you. Hange appeared with a tray on the opposite side of the table. She bumped Connie’s shoulder in hello as she maneuvered herself over the bench.

“Any better?” Hange directed her question to you, ignoring Levi’s stare. She snickered at the concentrated expression on Levi’s face and noticed how your body was nestled into his side.

“Food and company help.” You responded.

“Good. I’ll need your help with lab clean-up tomorrow if you’re up to it.”

You nodded, looking forward to a day of activity and hoping your cramps would vanish overnight. What you couldn’t see was Levi’s incredulous expression. He was not impressed with Shitty Glasses undermining his authority for tomorrow’s schedule.

Hange took the opportunity to segue into a discussion about her expense reports and upcoming requests for further titan experiments with Eren.

Levi was aware of your small bites and pleased with your appetite as he grunted his replies to Hange. Yes, he approved and would agree to help her request clearances and funding for Eren’s progress. No, he would not respond to any double entendres involving the words “experimental,” “blood,” and “barriers.” He set his utensils in the middle of his plate, swiftly stacking his with your empty one before walking away to the washbasin.

The pressure in your abdomen and constant, excruciating, squeezing cramps returned. You were relieved to see Levi return, appearing in your periphery. He leaned into your back, waiting patiently for you to finish your conversation. A bulky, hard object replaced the familiar, stiff form you were used to. The general shape and size reminded you of a bottle.

You quickly finished your story, sensing Levi’s growing impatience and possible boredom. The captain resorted to resting his chin on the top of your head. His eyes were closed.

You shifted to encourage Levi to stand upright. After bidding your friends a good night, you held your gift to your chest and followed Levi out the double doors fand into the night. The two of you continued away from the dining room, following the path lining the side of the building and in the direction of your quarters. You motioned for Levi’s hand.

Calculations and constant reassessment were fundamental to Levi’s survival thus far.

Which was why Levi’s subsequent actions were both unbelievable and entirely appropriate for the current state of things.

Levi pulled his hand away from your grasp and stopped walking. You looked anywhere other than him. The moon was mocking you.

His movements caught your eye, and you realized he was reaching into the inside of his jacket. “Don’t be upset, ________.” He pulled out a corked bottle of wine?

You sucked in your laps, squinting to read the label. The moon remained behind clouds, but it didn’t matter if you could make out the text. “I-um. You smuggled a bottle of wine for us?” You gasped as you pulled Levi closer. He shrugged. You grasped his elbow tighter and shared your thoughts or lack thereof, “I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” Levi held a wine opener in his other hand. “I wanted to enjoy this with you. Away from,” he waved the bottle in the direction of the dining room, “others.”

Following a loud pop! the bottle was uncorked. Levi tipped it in your direction. Grimacing, you feigned an unwillingness to accept his offer. He supported the base of the bottle while you guided the mouthpiece toward your tongue. After two large gulps, You handed it back to him, licking the velvet, fruity red from your upper lip.

“Up to your standards?” He cupped his arm around your shoulders and led you down the path, taking several consecutive sips from the bottle. He passed the bottle back to you.

You examined the glass before drinking more. It had been several traumas since you and Levi split a bottle together. He pressed you for an answer, “Hello, hello?”

He watched your continuous sips of the drink, but he wanted verbal affirmation that this was okay for you. This level of inconsequential intimacy was a tangential episode removed from your respective duties.

“Yes, yes.” Nodding, you suggested, “I think we should go somewhere warm.”

Levi carefully took the bottle from your fingers and slipped his free hand into yours. “Let’s get out of the cold.”

The onset of your light buzz sunk into your brain and body on the short journey through the back entrance, up the flight of stairs, and into Levi’s office. You ignited the nearest lamp to see Levi place the opened bottle on his desk before shaking off his jacket. Levi leaned on the table’s edge, tracing circles along the mouth ring with his finger. You slid into his desk chair, tipsy, relaxed, and slightly pleased.

Levi doesn’t often act out of his orderly character, but this was harmless. So far.

“This isn’t everyday wine, Levi. It’s tasty.” You were matter-of-fact about your opinions and thoughts at this point in your inebriation.

A smile ghosted Levi’s lips, but before you could name it, his expression transitioned to a slight frown. The quiet calm could shatter at any moment.

Levi examined the bottle to find that it was only a third of the way empty. You didn’t break your study of the man opposite you.

He avoided your eyes now and was a little lost for words, both of which were unusual for him. Yet, in the moments since your thanksgiving, he had slowly inched his way along the desk, pushing the bottle along with him. He stopped when the bottle sat beside your wrist and when his groin was impossibly close to your wrist.

He tossed you a sincere, “If we don’t finish this between us, that’s okay.”

Tension and heat emanated off his body. You opted to continuously run the back of your hand upwards, then downwards, along the length of the bottle.

He took hold of the bottle and held it before his lips, “How is your pain?”

You assessed his words and then yourself. Physically, you were bleeding, bloated, and uncomfortable in your skin. Mentally, you were all and none of your possible emotions but with an emphasis on simmering anger, anxiety, and intense helplessness. The physiological focus was currently grounded in your Levi’s proximity, your intoxication, and the unfair, teasing, and perfectly appropriate urge to cum with Levi inside of you. You were horny.

“The pain is a six with the wine.” You sat back in the chair, deflating your posture.

Levi scanned your face, searching for any hints of additional information. “Let’s get you more comfortable, then.” Your eyes snapped open as you felt your chair being pushed out of place.

You stood to follow Levi, who was halfway to the bedroom door.

“Aren’t you tired?” You assessed your collective lust and Levi’s physicality.

He was deft at hiding his weakness when it mattered. You hoped your physical state wouldn’t matter to him. Your doubt seized you and kept you careful as you crossed the doorway.

Levi turned around and chided, “I feel fine, ________.” He pushed the door behind you, his other hand remaining on the frame next to your ear. Leaning closer to your face, he actually laughed.

These moments surprised and redefined your expectations for reality, your fate, and your Levi. Witnessing this version of Levi was when you allowed yourself to believe in a future. Not necessarily a peaceful future. But one that would outweigh the terror of your daunting existence and your fear of the inevitable truth that all things must end.

“I owe you an apology, ________.I don’t quite understand what it’s like to be you right now, but I can try harder to help you.”

You shook your head slowly, “It’s not a big deal, Levi, I-,” but Levi cut you off.

“These last few months...” He continued, moving to hold your wrists and smooth his calloused thumbs lightly over your veins and the bruises inflicted from this morning’s skirmish. “I’m distracted when I should be consumed by you.” He kissed your wrists, left then right.

He was not wrong. “Us,” you reminded him. “Which means I need to tell you when I hurt or when I’m scared.” You were not wrong, but you had a history of adding your apologies to his.

Pushing his weight off the door frame, he reached behind you to lock the door, fingers grazing your hip. Leaning in, he murmured, “And then we’ll do something about those feelings, huh?”

“Yes.” You agreed without additional words, most likely due to the kneading sensation at the backs of your aching thighs.

Levi laughed again, a little louder this time. His eyes were closed in unusual humor as he circled his hands.

Levi would be careful not to overindulge whenever alcohol was offered to him. Losing control over a situation was not his preferred disposition. For his size, the man could impressively handle his booze, so the present shade of pink in his cheeks, the languid movements, and the transformed timbre of his voice were rare for him.

It wasn’t just the alcohol.

“So tell me, ________.” Levi kicked off his shoes and stepped away from you and further into the room, “Are you feeling pain?”

You also shed your shoes, anything to distract you from the hot sparks in your belly. You opted to lean on the window sill, back against the night sky, before nodding, “I think this will pass but, yeah.” Levi unfastened the top pearlescent buttons on his collar as he watched you gesture to the abdominal expanse hidden behind your blouse.

“What do you fear?” He continued fingering his buttons loose.

You’d been over this before. Throughout shared and separate missions, uncovering titan knowledge, and processing the endless loss of your companions, you couldn’t shake the crippling uncertainty in your everyday life. He knew that you barely managed your fears as a soldier, so any bravery in matters related to your health, hygiene, and reproductive system was bound to get left behind. Like him, you were scared of dying now that you had your person as your purpose. Levi was a damn good reason to overcome most of your fears and survive.

Out the window, the moon rose over the walls.

“It’s my everyday. It’s all our everydays. Um,” You watched Levi continue with his buttons. The fear of not being strong enough, for shit to fall apart, to never see you again. I’m just um,” Your voice was even as you continued, “I’m really tired of losing my insides month after month. Something changed in my body, and the doctors say it’s a normal phase.” You were trying to reason your fears away. Levi caught your eye with his beckoning gaze. Your mouth seemed to open on its own accord, “I knew a woman from my hometown who suffered and died from something inside her. Slow. It reminds me of my constant renewal and decay as you and I barrel toward some kind of ending.”

Throughout your confession, Levi had positioned himself, cross-legged, at your bare feet. He asked for clarification, “Your period reminds you...?”

You nodded. Levi scooted his shirtless body closer to your shins. He held the backs of your ankles as you continued. “That. And then I don’t know what way is up or down. I’m lost in this fucking fog.” You shrugged, bending your knees to sink down the wall. Your buzz gave way to a hopeless void, the one in the wall, just past Levi’s shoulder. Your eyes were unfocused.

The hands massaging your calves pulled you back to the present. Levi moved closer into the space between your open legs. He remained silent.

“I just don’t have my shit together. It’s uh… probably why I fucked your nose up.” You were finished with your monologue and needed something to do with your hands, so you traced the new line of goosebumps on Levi’s shoulders.

“My nose is fine, woman.” Levi traced the outline of his nose to emphasize a healthy and normal appendage. He continued, “Nobody has their shit together.”

“I should have listened to you this morning. I needed rest.” You reached out to Levi’s upper abdomen and tickled him lightly. His entire body jolted as he grunted. He absolutely hated tickling and would hold your transgression against you for a while. You realized your mistake when he snatched your hands and pulled them flush to his skin. He held your hands to the space between his upper abdomen and his pectorals.

Levi held your gaze, “You did well. You managed to escape your opponent’s hold by any means necessary.”

The skin beneath your fingers radiated heat, contrasting with Levi’s cold, forceful touch along your knuckles. Trapped in his hold, you were becoming very aware of the scent wafting from your open legs.

You shifted to close your legs slightly, but Levi held them in place. You squinted at him in nonverbal protest. He mumbled, “I missed you today.”

This kind of confession was rare for Levi. You opened your mouth and closed it, processing his words. You decided to divulge, “I watched you.”

Levi glanced out the window toward the grounds. He pressed his thumbs into the sensitive muscle above your Achilles, “And?”

You closed your eyes, inhaling and embarrassed.

“I couldn’t help myself…” Your words trailed off into the air, but Levi wanted to hear the rest. He encouraged you to speak by sliding his hands from your calves and up the skirt of your dress to the insides of your thighs, forefingers just short of your heat.

He narrowed his eyes and challenged you to continue, “Did you help yourself?”

You blinked from the stab of arousal and quiver in your pussy. Again, you were speechless. You cursed the loss of your liquid courage.

Shaking his head, Levi insisted, “Speak.” The pads of his thumbs moved slowly across your hip flexors—a command.

“I missed you, too. And I like to watch you.” You paused for a moment. “That’s something I can’t do for too long in front of others.”

Levi nodded slowly, knowing there was more.

“I also can’t- ah!” You were interrupted by Levi’s thumbs meeting your covered mound. He wiggled his digits slowly. “I c-can’t fuck myself in front of them.”

Your admission and the suggestion of your private pleasure forced Levi’s eyes shut as lust licked his loins. You rested your head against the brick wall, panting as he pressed further past your lips, fingering you through your padded panties.

“Did you make a mess?” He teased you, enjoying your surrender and admiring the new sheen on your neck.

“Yessss.”

“Excuse me?” Levi tested you. He pulled away quickly, bracing his hands on top of your skirt in a loose grip against the divots in your hips.

You obliged him, your voice wavering, “Yes, Sir.”

Levi’s shoulders collapsed as his arms shook. He felt weak. You made him weak.

Nostrils flaring, Levi pushed himself back to your skirt’s hem. He swiftly reached over your legs and hooked his fingers at the hem of your waistband. You stretched your legs on either side of him so he could drag the garment downward.

Mortified yet curious, you wouldn’t look away as the soldier weighed the heavier bundle in his hand, taking in the simplicity of your intimate device. His fingers dug into the soiled gusset, the last action you’d expect.

“Is that better?”

You felt lighter now that you were relieved of the thick, heavy reinforcement of your padded undergarments.

You nodded, eyes fixated on his trimmed nails, blood already caked underneath. He dropped the garment to the floor.

His eyes fucking twinkled. Is it the alcohol? You were struggling for coherent thoughts and any words.

“Are you there?” He flicked your forehead, a gesture you usually hated. He hoped it would coax a response.

“If you don’t want to,” you looked around the room, “We don’t have to continue? It’s not clean.” Your tiny voice again, offering the opportunity to withdraw.

Levi studied the delicate pattern under his hands. Purple campanula wound upwards and bunched over your core.

“I want to. I always want to.” He searched your eyes for any indication of consent.

You considered his affirmation and searched his face for any indication of doubt.

“Say something.” he urged, slightly rolling his eyes. In his opinion, you were being silly. Sure, his impatience and instinctual need may have colored his judgment, but the fact that you were pushing your legs open and wider throughout this entire exchange did not escape him.

You couldn’t deny that the dull warmth now nestled inside your gut was soothing, almost canceling out your discomfort. You couldn’t deny that you never considered simply asking Levi to fuck you while you bled. The last years were a barrage of hardship, focus, and duty for all the scouts, and you never wanted to introduce any additional new or concerning factors in your lives, let alone your sex lives.

“Help me with this thing?” You sat up, tugging at the bunched fabric at your knees. Levi’s tented slacks hovered over your hands.

Levi’s expression remained neutral, almost determined. He swatted your hands away, pushing the florals above your belly. The sensation of the cool air against your sore lower lips ignited and soothed you. You gasped, and Levi inhaled.

You were entirely exposed to the focus in his wide, darkened eyes. No blinking, no movement. The two of you were frozen. The dense air of arousal seeped into Levi’s lungs with every controlled breath. Nothing would make you move on your own accord — watery blood trickled slowly, collecting at the swell of your ass and seeping into the disheveled skirt beneath you. If you moved, he would notice. How much more embarrassment could you take?

“Say something, Levi.” Your small plea.

“I’ll buy you another dress.” He would. Tomorrow.

But first, he would support himself on his knees, unfasten his pants, and begin to palm his heavy cock over his briefs. You followed his movements, hand disappearing behind the cotton, up to his tip, just poking at the elastic waistband, and down to adjust his sensitive balls. Confidence nipped at you as your jaw went slack, enjoying the display before you. Your decision to open wider would accentuate the sheen on your swollen folds while relaxing the right muscle that encouraged more of your flow.

You reached for the mess between your legs for lubrication, using two of your fingers to gingerly stroke the nerves surrounding the hood of your clit. Levi took your mutual presentation as permission to move into the night with you.

He leaned forward, adjusting his thigh so his knee was pressed on and into your hole. He kissed the nearest inch of you, your forehead, but your head tilted into the wall after catching the undeniably dirty glimpse of Levi’s now stained pant leg.

The pressure and pleasure overwhelmed you as Levi licked at your lips, progressing into hot, greedy kisses. Your tongue tasted the remnants of the tart wine on Levi’s swift, wet muscle. His taste was intoxicating, almost hypnotic.

You scraped your nails along his scalp, tracing his widow’s peak to the base of his neck, where you adjusted your grip at the pulse of each suckle and smack.

Levi’s eyes opened, observing your lashes and passion up close. Throughout your history of shared kisses, he would often obtain brief moments of solid clarity, followed by a great urge to observe your surrender. Your fluttering, pretty lashes, the bridge of your nose, the crease of your brow — he had to bear witness. You’d blink and sometimes catch him like this. He’d look dazed, and then you’d lull back into your ecstasy with shut eyes.

Now, Levi’s eyes were wide, and his pupils dilated, malicious possession falling out and over his lower lids. The whites of his eyes were more watery than usual. He focused on your eyes, noticing your slight awareness and relishing in your realization that he would have you in this unorthodox way. Your kisses turned ferocious as you resolved to fall into the wicked black.

Levi pulled away from you, admiring your swollen, flushed lips, his spit worn like a pretty gloss. You bit your lip, expressing your disdain with a final thrust against his knee. He pulled his leg away and replaced it with his cupped hand.

“Don’t!” you blurted, startled by his palm pressing a warm, softer sensation into your pussy lips.

“You don’t mean that. Do you?”

He narrowed his eyes and continued to bide his time by flicking his middle finger twice, up and down your gooey slit.

He was so fucking right. You shook your head. You didn’t mean it. You saw it for yourself. The splotchy pattern decorating his knee, the shadow under his nails, and the darker auburn flecks settling into his knuckles.

“Uh-huh.” Levi inserted his finger into your most sensitive, flushed hole. His steady strokes lingered on the plush, moist walls just beyond your opening. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you immediately grasped Levi’s strong, sinewy forearm. Instead of attempting to hold him in place, you pulled him closer, forcing his finger up to scrape your spongy, ridged spot.

Levi decided he’d indulge you, already hypnotized by the sight of your weepy hole, cadmium, and creamy swallowing his finger. He added another.

The tiny half-moon indentations marked above his wrist were inevitable. Tugging him closer, you gyrated your hips in a staggered frenzy — your shame bubbled, and yet you abandoned it, as each pump resulted in luscious, curly licks to your core.

Levi cleared his throat, cutting through the sound of his squelching fingers, lubricated by your dripping cunt.

You’d seldom leave blood on your shared toilet seat or forget to erase any drippings on your journey from the shower to your underwear. When your period arrived at the time the two of you started to share your living space, Levi would think nothing of the occasional visual disruption. He’d simply wipe it away. Earlier in the week, Levi found himself lazily toeing a stray clot caught in the drain cover. He studied the dark, inky glob shrink as steady rivulets carried your fruit down and through the grate. Soft, slimy, smeared.

Not unlike a fresh wound.

His whisper was hoarse, “Look how fucked you are.”

He was projecting, of course. He was so fucked right now. Doomed.

You agreed and breathed out, “Mmm, I’m so, so fucked, Levi.”

Suspended in time, Levi’s hands were once again aiding your approach to another nuanced truth. You arched your back, your breasts thrust and level with Levi’s mouth. His heavy inhales were sweetened by your skin. Resting his cheek against your shoulder, he maneuvered his hand to your lower back. This gave him the leverage to properly and repeatedly hook his fingers up and backward. He felt for the textural changes enhanced by your ruby liquid, which sent subtle sensations laced with primal DNA straight to his cock.

You whined as Levi pulled out of you, then you transitioned into a strained hum when he grabbed his tented erection, an imperfect bloody palmprint sinking into the pant fibers. He pulled at his covered cock repeatedly as he asked, “Move with me.”

Distracted by the sight of his artful self-stimulation, you couldn’t quite register the implications of his words. Levi didn’t think twice about giving you a little push now and then, so he hooked your elbow with his, assisting you to stand on your feet. Once your wobbly legs settled, you watched Levi walk away from you, continuously rubbing his crotch as he disappeared into the bathroom.

You blinked, and Levi moved through the doorway, bundles of folded towels under one arm. He approached you, silently impressed by your disheveled state, slightly mussed hair, and a stained dress. You bit your lower lip, and you couldn’t keep your smile down. Countless drills, missions, and frustrating meetings often resulted in unorderly physical appearances, some worse than others. It was uncanny and even alluring to have a shirtless Levi — blood speckling him in indiscriminate patterns, his onyx hair, the tips slightly wet and sticking to his forehead — all of him — in your chambers. You sucked in an audible breath when you noticed the oxidized maroon of Levi’s erection.

Elegantly unclean.

Silently, you padded to the rug at the foot of your bed. As Levi draped the large towels over the mattress, you stepped out of your dress and into the back of your lover. Before you could enjoy the heat of his shoulder to the cold of your nose, he turned around, immediately pushing your face into his with his hold on the back of your neck. Your kisses were fierce initially, spurred by everything your captain was — subtle, determined, thoughtful, and — ‘oh, right there’ — fucking hot. Levi used his thumb and forefinger to pinch and slightly twist your nipples, left, then right. The reverberations of your moany, breathy exhales chased his lips as they dragged across your jaw, settling at the juncture intersecting with your carotid. Soft kisses warmed your pulse, then swiftly opened into wet, harsh sucking that bit without the teeth.

Your vocalized “oohs” and little whines slithered deep into Levi’s ears and to his neck. The heavy sensation settled outward and down to his dick, causing it to twitch and nudge your naked thigh.

“On the bed.” Levi internally winced at the sound of his voice, still demanding and with a hint of a plea.

He gently pressed the base of your ass, enough to make your weakened legs give way and your knees hit the edge of the mattress. You settled on all fours, but the rustling behind you was your queue to flip to your back so you could watch Levi in time for him to push his briefs off his legs.

Your mouth opened slightly to see his flushed cock, pretty, long, and thick, a pearly sheen cupped over his foreskin. Salivating, you lowered your mouth toward Levi, reaching for his base, but he loosely cupped his hand to the crook of your neck, stopping you from progressing. He pressed your clavicle and nudged you away so that you could both move toward the mattress’s center.

Levi took his position between your knees, your legs extended and outwardly open before him.

The shadow over your cunt was a detail to be rectified. Levi pulled your inner thigh outward, revealing your labia to the moonlight. They were inflamed and fruited, and Levi did not see an important reason to play coy with you.

He continued his open mouth kisses to your hole.

The softest, salivating muscle painted your insides and repeatedly prod to reach your walls just short of your sweet button. The cool room air kissed the heat of your skin-to-skin frenzy as warm tendrils settled into your belly, contrasting against your raw, open exposure. Levi was relentless in his slurping. He adjusted his angles to meet your movements, causing his hair to tickle your lower abdomen.

Tarty iron and salt swam through his taste sense, an acidic and sweet sting filling his nostrils. The pillow of your wet skin cushioned his nose, and he could hear his own slurping and smacking lips in his head.

“Leviii.” You forced yourself to breathe deep breaths. Otherwise, you would scream.

Levi adjusted your body against him as his dedication increased in rigor and accuracy. He propped your back against the tops of his folded and spread thighs, providing you more comfort in an extended and exposed position, but mostly it allowed for Levi to have unrestricted access to your cunt.

Opening your eyes was physically not an option for you. Not until Levi steadied the pace of his meal. You were unbelievably close to your orgasm before Levi’s licks turned languid and lazier. He kept you just above the surface, edging you before your inevitable plunge.

You released the tension in your brow and let your eyes fall open. Levi’s raven head was between your legs, ink, and vermillion flickering above and against your pussy. His nostrils flared slightly, his senses intuitive and responding to your ambrosia. You could only moan when Levi’s strong, somewhat calloused hands tilted your hips backward and your ass toward the ceiling so he could fuck you with his tongue without straining a muscle.

Levi pressed you down and back further, forcing you to lose sight of his face. He hummed lowly, sending vibrations and low murmurs to seep through your skin and straight to your core. Your laden walls fluttered and hugged his tongue.

“It’s too much, Levi!” Your volume rose.

The combination of your scent and flavor reminded Levi of the geography at the edge of Paradis—sweet, coastal forest, salty, coastal air, ancient soil. These specific sensory memories lulled him to a mindset of confidence. He knew that he was, for once, where he was meant to be.

For him, for you. Not for humanity, not for a nation, nobody else. The newly laid foundation settled in his stomach, even as your squirming and kicking caused your thigh to smear an especially wet streak of blood across his cheek and down his chin, dripping just before his jawline.

This position was one of his favorites. If he could, he would take his time, but your pulsing, bloody discharge gradually gathered at his lips at a rate and in an amount that was more than he could contain. He relaxed his tongue back behind his teeth and slightly lifted his head to check on you.

You met his eyes and froze. “Levi, baby.”

Levi exhaled, his warm breath reaching and cooling your cunt. He stunned you with his greyest eyes, hovering between shadow and moonlight. He wore the blood of your sex like a mask of sick.

Your vision was crystal clear.

He tilted his head slightly, illuminating the red at his edges. The effort to keep your lips tucked and mouth closed would be worth it. You couldn’t trust your voice. Over the years, you had known almost every edition of Captain Levi: the determined captain, the annoyed captain, impatient captain, satisfied captain, satiated captain, exhausted captain, rage-filled captain, cozy captain, but this expression was harder to name. Levi’s gaze scorched you like liquid fire—the neutral set of his jaw enhanced the slight slant in his brow. Although he may have looked slightly deranged, he appeared a little lost.

You were lost, too.

“______, come back.” Levi fondled the meat of your ass, urging you to relax your body.

And, you were found.

Then, your long, exasperated moan filled the room. Levi couldn’t keep his face neutral, even as he licked at his sticky lips, focusing on the corners. His eyes were wide, whites glimmering and stimulating your dark attraction.

Your words followed, “You are—,” you held his tacky chin with the tips of your fingers. “I like this.”

Levi’s realization continued to press at his insides — the undeniable truth was that he liked this too.

Fuck me.

He’d deal with it. With a deep-seated and serving practice in the art of self-control, he would handle it.

You sat up, and your calves lowered to rest over Levi’s shoulders.

Or, he’d wait to handle it tomorrow.

Supporting yourself with one hand, your other held a corner of the towel below you, an offering for his current state.

He leaned toward the towel, then took it from you to swipe at his chin and swollen lips.

His formerly unmanaged expression turned to a slight smile, none of it in his eyes.

“Can I put it in you?” A simple question.

“I need it.” You cringed at the truth.

And just like that, Levi’s smile reached his eyes.

Without further ceremony, Levi leaned forward to extend his torso over yours and settle on his elbow by your head. Above you, he held the base of his member, stopping at your hole to notice your pretty arousal and flow marking the tip of his cock.

You keened? This was new, even for you. Urgent rapture erupted up your spine and up your throat. The intense gravity of your mutual actions influenced the fact that you couldn’t keep your shit together even before Levi inevitably buried himself in you.

Your movements spurred his automatic push past your folds, and he slipped in your cunt.

“Aahh!”

Levi was ready for you. To save you from future embarrassment, his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries. He sent you an apologetic smirk. Even if you planned to rein yourself in later, it wasn’t now.

In the low light, Levi concentrated on the space where your bodies connected. His hips moved in slow, powerful strokes, hypnotizing him as he watched his cock disappear into you, feeling the hug and drag of your slippery walls. He settled into the rhythm, providing you a chance to adjust or withdraw.

The shrill of your whines shrank to small pants, puffs of air to heat Levi’s palm. Full and feeling fit to burst, the sensitivity of your entire sex would send you flying toward another height soon.

The cupped palm moved to the side. You gasped for sweet oxygen as Levi murmured, “Color? Ugh!” He winced, feeling you pucker and squeeze on his glans.

It was an effort to speak with coherence. “Green.” You sighed, your mouth dropping, a silent “Oh,” shaping your lips. Levi’s now free hand cradled the base of your skull, holding you in place as you reveled in his focused rutting. Every collision of hips sent waves up to the inside of the tips of your fingers. Your former cramps were truly transformed and forgotten. Replaced with tender stretching, the ache in your lower back and legs exchanged for Levi’s fulfillment.

Levi’s thrusts hastened even if he hoped to prolong his pursuit. He seized the opportunity to bury himself in your tight hole, sweating, almost twitching at the mix of your viscid liquid.

Quiet, steady moans and sighs underscored the sound of skin slapping skin, colliding and caressing, a mantra for a timeless night.

You bent your right knee to cradle Levi’s hip, encouraging a deeper, shorter penetration. The sight of your tinted cream gathering at his base made him weak again — weak and unhinged.

“Do you feel good?” You smiled, intentionally squeezing his cock while you tugged on the lock of hair hanging over his eyes.

“Of course.” Supporting his weight on his hands, he pushed up, caging your head with his body. This shift in his body allowed him to move his dick deeper and upwards. You bucked your hips to increase his depth.

He stilled after nudging his hips further and into your cervix, his balls resting against your ass. Hovering over your eyes, he stated, “I’m covered in you.” He placed a quick kiss on your brow.

You couldn’t decide where to land your lazy, persevering gaze. It steadily moved between his beautifully marred, perspiring face, a beautiful expanse of milky, muscular torso, and the lewd suggestion of his happy trail, the muscular vee leading you to his neat shaven base, tinted in the veneer of your insides.

“Turn over.” A command and a question. He lightly trailed his fingers along your back as you adjusted your stance. You wiggled your butt to emphasize your compliance.

He chuckled at your desire and the irony of having you in a similar position from the morning’s conflict. “Ass up.” A light tap to your right cheek.

You stretched up and at the man behind you. You whined, feeling his tip brush your slit.

“Higher.” Levi flicked your left cheek. You could do better. He leaned over your back to remove one of the unscathed towels and wrapped his pillow in it. Levi wedged the soft, supportive pillow between your stomach and the mattress, Levi’s fingers taking his time to tickle your sides as he straightened his back. You relaxed into the deep angle, surprised at your ability to make a limber adjustment, uterus and abdominal muscles rebalancing at the inversion.

Pressing his dick to your folds, Levi paused to brace himself and minimize your inevitable screams by pushing your head gently to the mattress. You laughed; this felt oddly familiar to your earlier training, just less hostile. Your temperament could be described as “timeless” and your outlook: “clear-as-dazed.”

Your giggle was like a magnet, pulling Levi to drive his cock forward, stretching you long and wide.

Time stood still.

The only grain of awareness left within you was your attention to the depth at which your partner’s satiny member pulled and kissed your cervix, the sound of your skin and fluids mixing, oh and your wails of exaltation.

“L-Levi! So full!” Your words were frantic, and you reached back to grab at his forearm.

“You have to shut up, _______.” The grip that Levi’s hands on your hips increased in pressure, and he didn’t stop fucking you. Oh right. A world and your comrades existed beyond this bedroom.

You dropped your head in delicious defeat, biting your lower lip in an attempt to regulate your volume. There he was, your harsh captain.

“Good. Good.” His praises were strained and raspy. As the fervor of his thrusts increased, he ran a hand through your hair before taking a handful in an even grip.

Levi couldn’t get enough of the view of your neck extended toward him, his hand in your hair, your ass was marked by cherry red and auburn stains, and it jiggled with each pummel and pull. Looking further down, the captivating image of his thick, long, filthy member repeatedly disappearing into your brimming hole was so explicit, so lewd, that he had trouble holding in his groan. It rumbled from the back of his throat, offering the promising of precipice.

“L-Lev- close!” You warned, breaths hiccupping at the scorching fire radiating from your core.

You rocked your ass to match his feverish pumping. Levi goaded you by taking a handful of your ass, pulling up on your cheek, and letting go to watch it bounce. “Cum for me, _______.”

A focused thumb pinned your clit in place. Levi glanced at your face to gauge your reaction, but the harsh spasm of your hips and your needy whimpers were enough of an answer for him. His concentrated expression focused on his furious rubbing. He enjoyed the rigid texture of your button.

“F-fuck, baby!” Your yell echoed across the ceiling. The pressure started to become unbearable for you and Levi. As your pussy walls flexed and clenched, each of Levi’s thrusts entered a tighter home.

“No. My scouts are sleeping, _______.” Levi’s voice was shaky, but he had to deliver his instructions. He covered your open mouth with a harsh grip on your cheeks, enjoying the wet spit of your cries.

You shared the same destination, like moths to an eternal flame. Your orgasm seared and plunged through you, igniting a cacophony of screams and moans muffled between your lover’s fingers. You felt like you were suffocating, and every staggered inhale only served to exhale, “Levi!” over and over again.

Your climaxing, clamping pussy continued to pulse, the sensations pillowing and engulfing Levi’s cock. His grip over your mouth faltered, and his hand fell to bunch the towel below you.

“Where do I cum?” Levi felt silly in his clarity. He should have asked an hour ago.

You were shivering and couldn’t hear him clearly through the resonant ringing of your pleasure waves.

“______!” Levi punctuated his warning and slammed inward and upward, milking more of your cream. “I’ll cum!”

You weakly slapped his left thigh, “Out, Levi, Out!”

“Shit shit shit shit shit!” Levi’s shout reverberated and definitely extended through the thin windowpane.

The instant he pulled out of you, his cum surged in long, thin ribbons and hit the swell of your ass, trickling down to settle in thick pools between your legs. You gasped at the warming sensation with each spurt. The combination of his ferociously carmine cock excreting hot, white cum was sickeningly sinful. He threw his head back, neck elongated and propelling ecstatic moans to the eaves. Ascending and falling, he steadily pumped his shaft, squeezing his urethra on the upward stroke to ensure his complete descent.

His rapture stalled and stuck to his spine as soon as he perceived the mess of your ass and the towel absorbing your jammy tissue along with the last of his milk.

The room was quiet once more, save for your deep breaths and Levi’s panting. You were floating in your relief, euphoria prickling your vision and tickling your skin.

The corner of a towel in your periphery vanished behind you as Levi pulled the textile to wipe at your butt. You sighed as you felt the bed spring from Levi leaving the bed. Turning over, you caught a glimpse of him leaving you once again for the restroom. You shut your eyes, pleasure humming behind your eyes.

The depression in the mattress indicated Levi’s return.

Levi knelt next to your body with a wet washrag. He muttered, “Turn over.”

You opened one eyelid. You stayed put.

Levi prodded at your hip with the warm cloth and proceeded to roll you, so you were laying on your stomach.

Squirming at the new sensations against your sensitive skin, you mumbled, “Thank you.”

The rag was soiled by the time he was done scrubbing at your backside. Your tired skin was irritated, and you were relieved to stay in bed.

A kiss to your tailbone was followed by a pair of clean undergarments landing on the back of your neck.

“If you change into those, we can clear the bed.” Levi began to pull the towels out from under you.

You stood up and off the bed, eyeing Levi and his pristine, silk cock, still standing tall and without any traces of your sex. He cleaned up quickly.

Sighing, you donned the panties and immediately pulled back the blankets to meet the captain in your bed sheets. Laying on his side, Levi wrapped an arm around your waist and to your lower back. With half-hooded eyes, he pulled you to his warmth, so your nipples met his. Clean and satiated, he could finally enjoy his post-coital bliss.

Like floating on water or even air, your body was weightless.

“I—I’d do that again,” you slurred.

Pleased with your review, Levi grunted and pushed his crotch into yours.

You whined, “Sensitive!”

He relaxed his arm over your waist, the tension throughout his body fading.

You had to ask, “Would you do it again?”

Levi grunted, feigning sleep. His voice was flat, “Only here. Not in the field.”

Your laugh was raspy, voice hoarse from your screams.

“Wait.” Levi turned away from you and leaned over the edge of the mattress. You found his bare buttcheeks irresistable. A little pinch wouldn’t hurt—

Something lightweight soared at your forehead. After impact, it fell to the bed in front of you. A small envelope with an open wax seal.

“Hey?” You examined the packet as Levi sunk back into his pillow. He could see the waning moon. A warm moon. A radiant glow.

“Open it,” Levi shrugged and closed his eyes, “Hange left it under my door.”

You squeezed the envelope’s edges and tilted the contents into your hand. After reading the note, you put the pieces together, reflecting on your encounter with Hange this morning and their behavior at dinner.

“Were you planning to use this tonight?”

“No.”

“Do you wish you did?”

Levi opened an eye. He took the small papers and plastic square from your grasp and set them on the table behind you, leaving his arm extended over your body and his face in the crook of your neck.

You pulled the collection of blankets over your bodies as Levi’s muffled reply moistened your jugular. You sunk your head further into the pillow so he’d have more space. Turning his head to rest on your shoulder, he replied, “No. Like I said, I’d do it again.”

Ugh, like right now? Your body warmed.

As Levi confirmed his enthusiasm, small copper spots at the tip of Levi’s shin caught your eye. You licked the pad of your free thumb and rubbed it against the blemish, erasing the leftover traces of your tryst.

Too tired to swat you away, Levi moved his arm to hold your hand against his skin. Despite your day’s intimate milestones, this kind of attention overwhelmed him sometimes.

“It’s okay,” Levi whispered, “I know you like it, too.”

Your coupled bodies settled into exhaustion, grounded in an overwhelming and unanimous resolution to move through your days and nights, whether hopeless or hopeful, moonlit or cloudy, they were yours to share. Like mordant, Levi would press the stain of his being into yours, and you would reciprocate with your traces deep down beneath his skin.

20+ ONLY. UNDER 20, MINORS, & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

Read Part I | Masterlist

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