#Sasha and his damn tacky lamps | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingshiz · 5 years

Text

Heartless

StormyInk

Summary:

Where I'm tossing all of my rivamika drabbles, one shots, prompts you guys toss at me and anything else of the like. I try to put all of the warnings I can think of in the tags so check those before you read.

Chapter 1

: Two hours till midnightSummary:

Most of the (reluctantly shared) elevator ride was silence laced with loathing—until the lights flickered, reflected a million times in the mirrored walls about them, the cab jolting awkwardly and stopping midway.

“Levi,” Mikasa murmured, her breath hitching, shutting her eyes as her pale hands gripped the railing behind her tightly, knuckles bone white. “Why did the elevator stop?”

Levi moved forward, punching button after button—the levels, the service button, emergency—every hit becoming progressively violent when the elevator didn’t react. “It’s not working.” Levi spat out a slew of obscene epithets. “The power’s out.” He pinched the bridge of his nose for several moments, calming himself. He tugged out his phone—his lip curling when the screen lit up. “No fucking signal. My battery is about to die—and its two hours ‘till fucking midnight.” He dropped his briefcase, turning to face Mikasa, his expression grim. “Merry fucking Christmas to us.”

Notes:

I participated in a Secret Santa on tumblr and I wrote this little one shot as a (poorly written) gift for FyeahRivaMika on tumblr. I was watching a lot of cheesy christmas movies so forgive me. Happy holidays, everyone.

Chapter Text

~4:30p.m.~

It wasn't as if she intended to work until the late hours of Christmas Eve.

Or, perhaps she had. She didn't have anything or anyone to go home to—had tried not to let that fact bother her. She was single and alone for Christmas but that did not necessarily mean she had to be unhappy.

And yet she couldn't help feeling strangely…troubled.

She wasn't one to get too riled up for the holidays—they reminded her of family, of children and parents.

They reminded her she had none.

Except for Eren and Armin of course, a family she was fiercely loyal and protective of, a family that she'd do anything to keep safe and happy.

Even if that meant stepping away from them.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"I'm sure."

"It'll be fun. Eren and I won't be too touchy with one another and make you feel awkward at all. It'll be like old times. We can all sleep in that cabin Hanji lent us up in Big Bear and enjoy the snow. Come with us, Mikasa. Please. You shouldn't have to be alone for Christmas."

"I have a lot of work to do, Armin. I'll probably work for most of the day and shower and go to bed as soon as I get home. Don't worry about me. You two have fun. As long as you and Eren are happy…I am, too."

And it wasn't as if she had lied, really.

If anyone deserved and needed Eren's indomitable passion, unshakable loyalty and dauntless bravery it was Armin. And if anyone deserved Armin's unparalleled intelligence, his patient tactfulness and his infinite kindness it was Eren.

If anyone deserved her fierce protection it was them.

They loved each other. She was happy for them.

And so she'd found herself up to her neck in paperwork on Christmas Eve, most of her coworkers having dropped off a small Christmas gift on her desk; small handmade Christmas cards, a few foil wrapped delicacies, an excessively large tin box of chocolates from Jean and a large bottle of wine wrapped in candy cane striped paper—from the second head of the company.

She been a bit startled to find it on her desk, had narrowed her eyes as she'd read the name written in lettering as caustic and cutting as his tongue.

Levi.

And for several moments she hadn't really been able to comprehend just why he'd given her a bottle of wine—why he'd given her a gift at all—because they hadn't spoken much, at least not on a personal basis. Most of their work forced interactions hadn't been what she'd call pleasant by any means; they were too good at their jobs, too competitive, too stubborn to not clash during meetings.

Levi took a little too much perverse pleasure in scaring Eren witless and piling mountains of paperwork upon him—would have done the same to Armin if Erwin hadn't assigned him as his personal assistant. She had made it her goal to surpass him, to prove her worth to him despite being so much younger, to best him.

She wanted to earn his respect as much as she wanted to crush him beneath her sharp heel.

Because when they worked together, when they agreed on a subject and executed their plans with their single minded ruthlessness—she'd felt a high like no other.

But she shouldn't think of those things.

She'd dragged a fingernail across the paper on the front of the bottle, peeled the edge away to reveal the label—and had felt her brow furrow.

How did he know this was my favorite wine?

And it was with a strange giddiness twisting her insides and a fierce look of concentration darkening her gaze that Sasha found her, walking into her office, her coat thrown over her arm, her large purse in hand.

"Everyone is leaving." Sasha yawned, stretching. "Well, everyone except the boss." Sasha pointed over her shoulder to the office across from hers. Mikasa looked, saw Levi hunched over his large desk, his pen furiously scratching at pale sheets. He looked unhappy, she thought, miserable almost, knew he'd snarl at anyone who dared to interrupt him—but perhaps he wasn't as unpleasant as he made himself to be.

Perhaps he was the kind of man who was keen and attentive enough to notice a subordinate's favorite wine and wrap and gift it to them on Christmas Eve.

She flushed and looked away, eyeing the bottle with reluctant gratitude.

Sasha pointed at the bottle in Mikasa's grip. "You got a bottle, too?"

Mikasa blinked. "Too?"

Sasha nodded. "We all had bottles on our desks this morning. A gift from Levi." She reached into her bag, struggled to tug out her own bottle—wrapped in reflective green paper. "You got fancy paper, though. I think mostly everyone got green or red." Sasha slid the bottle back into her purse. "You leaving now?"

Mikasa held very still. "No."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Sasha hesitated. "Remember you can come over later if you'd like. Connie and I are holding a party for everyone at our place…"

Mikasa shook her head. "Thank you, Sasha."

Sasha sighed. "Alright, then. Good night, Mikasa. Merry Christmas." She left with a small wave.

Mikasa sat in her chair, carefully placing the bottle in the bottom drawer to her right.

We all had bottles on our desk this morning.

She tugged out her thin laptop, tugging out a small note pad and pen along with it.

You got fancy paper, though.

Mikasa quietly buried her disappointment with every soft tap of her keyboard and scratch of her pen.

~9:45p.m.~

Levi didn't look at the time until the words on the screen began to blur together. He massaged the back of his cramped neck as he shut his laptop, grimacing when he saw how late it was.

Nine forty-five.

He stood, stretching, his back giving several audible, satisfying pops. He began gathering his belongings—suit jacket, his coat, all the other tacky trinkets his employees had messily strewn about his office swiftly stuffed into his briefcase as he shut the light off and walked out—when he saw Mikasa Ackerman's office light still softly glowing.

When he saw her sleeping on her desk.

She had her arms folded over the desk, her cheek pressed over the back of her hand, her small lips parted, her breathing slow and even.

She was beautiful, he admitted to himself, lovely, even. He'd known she was attractive since the first time she'd walked into his building—hadn't known just how exquisite she was until he'd worked with her. It had been a frustrating thing, a slowly satisfying one, discovering the different aspects of her character: quiet tenaciousness, a sharpness that nearly matched his, a bone deep protectiveness and loyalty to the company—or well, Eren mostly.

And her softness.

It had left him breathless on more than one occasion, the blood boiling glares she'd give him one second, the cutting words they'd bite out over a long work day—and then Eren would call her name, or Armin would smile at her, and every one of her lethal lines softened, her shoulders relaxing, her dark eyes almost fucking sparkling.

As if Yeager or Arlert were built out of fucking diamonds.

And he was just a lump of ashy coal.

Yes, Mikasa Ackerman was a woman who troubled him with how much she intrigued him.

If only she didn't completely loathe him.

He sighed, walking over to her office. He pressed his lips together as he rapped on her door sharply—watched her jump awake.

"How unprofessional, Mikasa." Levi leaned against the door, enjoying the open confusion on her pretty features—such a rare display of vulnerability. "Sleeping on the job? I don't think I pay you for that."

She cleared her throat, standing quickly as she straightened her prim dark blue dress. "I wasn't—"

"Yes you were." He gestured to her belongings in the corner of her office. "I'm leaving and I need to lock up. Hurry up."

Mikasa ran her hand through her hair, trying not to seem flustered. She snapped her laptop shut, clicking off her lamp and gathering her belongings deftly.

He watched her as she slid on her coat, bundling that damned scarf about her neck and mouth, sweeping everything up into her long arms. He'd often marveled at the way she'd moved, all poise and grace—had seen how brutally she could break someone just months after she and all the interns had started working for them, just a week before they'd decided who was going to go and stay.

Which one he, Hanji and Erwin would pick to take under their wing.

It had been a curious morning—Erwin had called him into his office, two security guards nervously standing with their hands clasped in their laps.

"Have a look at this, Levi."

Erwin had pointed at a large screen on the wall opposite from them, the video fuzzy and choppy. It was a view of the street right outside their building—and before Levi could ask why the hell he wanted him to watch a street he saw Mikasa walk out the front doors.

She walked down the sidewalk—ignorant of the two men trailing closely behind her. Levi felt his gut clench, his body moving forward of its own will, as if he could reach into the screen—and before he could think rationally Mikasa whirled, dropping her purse and briefcase, decking the two men before they even realized what the hell was going on.

And for a moment Levi was completely stunned—something he rarely was—and then he felt the relief wash over him, along with a black, black humor. He felt the edges of his lips curl up, shook his head as he watched Mikasa calmly pick up her belongings and keep walking, disappearing off the edge of the screen.

"That one is mine, Erwin."

Mikasa walked towards him now, breaking him of the memory—he eyed the huge box beneath her arm in dismay.

"What the hell is in there? A small child?"

She frowned. "It's a gift from Jean…they're sweets."

Levi stayed quiet for a few moments—moved away from her doorway, motioning for her to follow behind him as they walked down the hall. "I would say it was a thoughtful gift." Levi tapped the button for the elevator twice, catching Mikasa's gaze through the blurry reflection of the stainless steel doors. "Except you don't like sweets."

He saw the surprise that lifted her brows and parted her lips—before she promptly looked away, tugging her scarf up with a finger. "It's not—"

The elevator gave a soft ping, the doors gliding open, presenting the posh elevator; all mirrored tile, mirrored walls, a softly glowing light above.

A small twig of mistletoe ominously hung in the center.

Mikasa stepped away. "I'm taking the stairs."

Levi sighed wearily, catching her elbow before she could move away. "Get in the elevator." He glared at the stupid sprig. "No doubt done by Connie and Sasha." He made a mental note to have a word with them. He tugged Mikasa forward—and realized he couldn't. "I'm not going to bloody kiss you so get in the—"

"It's not that." Mikasa bit out, looking away carefully. "I…don't like elevators."

Levi's brow furrowed—reached out when the doors began to shut, forcing them back. "Claustrophobic?"

She nodded. "Not…excessively. Elevators make me…uncomfortable."

Levi kept his hand around her elbow. "The stairs are locked."

Her eyes flew open. "What?"

"They're locked." He shrugged. "We had a few homeless straggle in a few nights ago and so Erwin decided to lock them to keep them out while we were gone for the holidays. He was the keys for those doors." He nodded towards the elevator. "You're going to have to get in there or stay here the whole bloody night."

Mikasa reluctantly set her teeth, and he watched with idle fascination as a tic appeared in her jaw—until she stepped forward, all poise and grace vanquished, rusty hinges in its place.

He followed, pushing the bottom to take them to the bottom floor. The doors shut—and Mikasa stayed in the far corner of the elevator, leaning against the wall and glaring at the offensive mistletoe above them.

Yes, Levi mused, she most definitely despised him.

It went pitch black.

"Levi," Mikasa murmured, her breath hitching, shutting her eyes as her pale hands gripped the railing behind her tightly, knuckles bone white. "Why did the elevator stop?"

Levi moved forward, punching button after button—the levels, the service button, emergency—every hit becoming progressively more violent when the elevator didn't react. "It's not working." Levi spat out a slew of obscene epithets. "The power's out." He pinched the bridge of his nose for several moments, calming himself. He tugged out his phone—his lip curling when the screen lit up. "No fucking signal. My battery is about to die—and its two hours 'till fucking midnight." He dropped his briefcase, turning to face Mikasa, his expression grim. "Merry fucking Christmas to us."

It was the last thing she heard before she fainted.

~10:15p.m.~

"Don't you dare fucking pass out on me, Mikasa."

It was the first words out of his mouth when he caught her, fumbling to keep her upright—cursing and folding onto his knees instead.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." He put her on her back, grabbing his phone and using it to light up her face, relief cracking through him when he saw her lashes fluttering. "Mikasa," He growled, shaking her. "Mikasa wake the fuck up." What the fuck were you supposed to do when someone fainted? He'd seen it a few times—you carry them, get a doctor—but where the devil was he supposed to carry her to if they were trapped in a fucking box?

He searched her pockets, finding her phone. He checked the signal—damn near threw it at the wall when he saw that it had none.

He lifted her head, checked her breathing, her pulse—all seemed relatively strong.

Perhaps it was just the fright?

"How in the hell," Levi unbuttoned her coat swiftly. "Can someone fearlessly fight two thugs on the sidewalk without batting an eye…" He peeled it off her shoulders, tugging her arms out. "But faint when the bloody lights go out?" He lifted her against his chest, slapping her cheek gently—calmed slightly when her hand lifted to push his away. "Mikasa wake up."

Her lashes fluttered, her chest rattling with an unsteady breath. The elevator was still glowing with the multiple reflections of her cell phone, and her eyes met his in the white blue glow.

"Levi?" She murmured thickly.

"Are you alright?" He scanned her features, saw her realize they were still in the elevator.

She pressed her fingertips over the backs of her eyelids. "We're still trapped." Her breath quickened.

"Don't pass out again." He snapped. "Sit up."

He leaned her away from him and against the wall, saw her head loll back weakly. "Here." He pressed her cell phone into her damp palm. "Keep it lit up. I'm going to try to climb the hell out of here."

"Climb?" She muttered thinly.

"Up there." He jerked his chin towards the ceiling, dropping his coat and suit jacket onto the ground. "There's a latch, isn't there?" He began deftly rolling up his sleeves, yanking impatiently at his tie. "Stay awake. It's just a damn elevator."

He stepped up onto the railing, lithely holding himself upright up against the corner, reaching upwards with a grimace. "Fucking hell," He cursed.

He heard Mikasa give a strangled sound—couldn't quite decipher what it meant.

"You can't reach." She whispered.

Levi scowled, shoving the small door above aside. "Are you amused, Acker—shit." The railing snapped beneath his foot, and he was falling—Mikasa kicked away from the wall, trying to catch him in time.

She didn't—his body hit the floor hard but she caught his head, cradling it in her lap as he groaned. Mikasa brushed his hair away from his forehead.

"Are you alright?"

He spoke between jagged breaths. "Does it fucking look like I'm alright?" He tried to stand—she pressed her palm to his forehead, kept him on his back.

"Stay still for a few minutes."

Levi grunted—but obeyed, oddly soothed by the way her fingertips smoothed over his brow and into his hair.

He stared at the mistletoe dead center above them until his pulse returned to normal.

~10:30p.m.~

"I'll try this time." Mikasa let Levi help her to her feet. "Give me a boost."

Levi nodded, crouching onto his knees.

"What are you doing?"

"Sit on my shoulders."

"No."

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose again. "Then how?"

Mikasa looked disgruntled. "I don't know."

"Get on my fucking shoulders."

~10:35p.m.~

"Can you reach it?"

"Yes." Mikasa pulled herself up, her body halfway through the opening—when suddenly the entire cab jolted back to life, the cables beside her rolling. "Levi—"

He slid her down instantly, her stomach dragging over his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her steady as everything shifted. "Are you hurt—?"

She clamped her hand over his mouth as the lights flickered on weakly.

"The electricity is back up." Mikasa slid her hand away from his mouth, curled her fingers into the fabric over his shoulders. "We're going to get out."

Levi nodded grimly, felt his eyes latch onto the thrashing pulse at the base of her pale throat. "About fucking—" The elevator jerked to another stop, the lights flickering again.

"No." Mikasa whispered.

And the elevator gave another lurch but stayed in place, the lights dimming but staying lit.

And it still didn't move.

Lev gripped the back of Mikasa's blue dress in his fist. "Fuck."

~10:45p.m.~

"Do you know what I would have been doing at this time if I wasn't stuck here?" Levi asked Mikasa, sprawled across the ground with his jacket rolled up beneath his head.

"Celebrating." Mikasa murmured, her knees drawn up as she sat in the corner opposite of him. "Party with your business partners."

"Sleeping." Levi admitted, dark amusement thick in his voice. "Or perhaps I'd be sitting in bed, catching up on bills and other shitty, seemingly never ending paperwork." He turned his head, catching her gaze, eyeing her pretty pale legs, her skin glowing softly in the low light. "And you?" He let his voice deepen. "What would you be doing right now if you weren't…" He gestured flippantly about them. "…trapped in here with me?"

She pressed her cheek to her knee, tracing invisible circles on the dark blue fabric of her dress skirt—making Levi dimly realize the fabric had the slightest of shimmers to it. "Eating and watching T.V." She eyed the wine bottle he'd gifted her. "Drinking."

Levi exhaled wearily. You have no one either. "How dreary."

She turned away. "It'd be better than being trapped in here."

He smirked. "I bet so."

~10:50p.m.~

"What are you doing?"

"You can see what I'm doing."

Levi narrowed his eyes as she opened the huge box of sweets Jean had given her, a letter slipping out and sliding between them. There was a name written on it in a strong hand—

Mikasa. From Jean.

"Is that a fucking love letter?"

Mikasa slid it towards her quickly, tucking it into her coat pocket with flushed cheeks. "No."

"Open it."

"No."

"We need some fucking amusement or we're going to go insane."

"I'm fine."

"Tch," Levi raked his hair back, glanced at the time. "I'm going mad."

She slid the wine bottle towards him silently.

~11:00p.m.~

"Are you going to eat the whole fucking box?"

She slipped another chocolate between her lips. "I haven't eaten today."

Levi curled his lip when his own stomach growled.

"Don't eat them all."

~11:12p.m.~

"You don't like me very much, do you?" Levi took another swig, placing the bottle back between them.

Mikasa paused in the middle of stretching. She turned her head, sprawled on her back, her coat the only thing between her and the cold floor. She looked at him with a frown—saw him sitting against the wall, one knee drawn up, his fingers idly toying with a silver candy wrapper.

She reached for the bottle, drinking from it deeply before speaking. "You're abrasive."

He let out a dark huff of amusement. "That's a fucking understatement." He tossed the wrapper back into the box. "You aren't exactly all sugary sweetness either, Mikasa."

She smiled softly—saw him go very still. "Also another understatement, Levi."

~11:25p.m.~

"So…you and Jean?" Levi gestured to the letter peaking from her coat pocket beneath her.

She shook her head. "I'm not discussing my love life with you, Levi."

"Not much of one, I'd say." Levi shifted, moving to lie down beside her. They faced the mirrored ceiling, locking gazes through their reflections. "He buys you sweets when you could care less for them." He handed her the bottle. "Do you think he knows your favorite wine?"

Mikasa leaned up to take another drink. "You gave everyone wine, Levi." She handed him the bottle, looking at him from over her pale shoulder. "Jean gave me something…different from what he gave the others."

He took the bottle—placed it aside. He reached up, slowly—almost tentatively—touching her bottom lip, wiping away a stray drop of wine. "Do you honestly think me gifting you a bottle of your favorite wine was a lucky coincidence, Mikasa?"

She shut her eyes as his fingertips brushed over her cheek. "You're drunk."

He pulled his hand away. "I spent fifteen fucking minutes trying to pick out that wrapping paper."

She flushed, lying back down. "Shut up, Levi."

~11:35p.m.~

"I'll give you a pay raise if you open the shitty love letter."

"It's not a love letter." Her small smile disarmed him. "And no."

~11:40p.m.~

"And if I threaten to fire you?"

Mikasa sighed. "I have plenty of other job offers."

Levi cursed, his words slurred. "You—from who?"

She shook her head and ignored him, tipping the bottle into her mouth.

~11:55p.m.~

"I've never been kissed under the mistletoe." Mikasa suddenly murmured, her dark eyes latched onto the greenery hanging above them. "Really kissed. I was caught beneath it once with Eren." She touched her cheek, deep in memory. "I…leaned in to kiss him on the mouth—he kissed me on the cheek instead." She swallowed. "I felt…" She took a jagged breath. "I knew he'd never…"

Eren's a fucking idiot.

"Neither have I." Levi lifted himself up, his head swimming as he crouched over her. He slid his hand beneath her head, angling her mouth beneath his as his lips touched over hers gently. He felt her sharp inhale—paused. "There." He rasped thickly. "Wasn't so special." He dragged his lips over hers again. "Was it?"

Her tongue touched his bottom lip—and his breath caught. He swept his tongue into her mouth, tangled it with hers, tasting the bitterness of the wine, the sweetness of the chocolates she'd eaten. She slid her hands up his back, her thin fingers tangling in his hair as they deepened the kiss—the quiet buzzing of her phone vibrating against the ground between them.

They broke the kiss—lips kiss stung, breathless—and Levi glanced at her phone. He huffed, pushing her hair back. "It's midnight." Her dark eyes were clouded—a mixture of alcohol and lust, her blush lovely in the soft light reflected about them. "Merry Christmas, Mikasa."

~12:10a.m.~

"What the hell is going to happen when we need to take a piss?" Levi asked out loud.

Mikasa sighed, rolling to her side and shutting her eyes.

She'd been starting to wonder the same thing.

~12:20a.m.~

Somewhere between being half asleep and half-awake Mikasa found herself gathered within Levi's arms, his mouth tracing over every inch of exposed skin. "You're so soft." He kissed down her throat, his hands bunching up her dress, her thighs parting for him. "I never knew."

Her hands yanked at his shirt, tearing the buttons apart, peeling the shirt away from his shoulders impatiently. He slipped his arms out of the shirt, let her run her palms over his bare chest, his arms, her nails lightly scratching down his back. He held still for her as slid her hands to his hard stomach, her fingertips slipping beneath his belt.

He hissed, catching her mouth in another hard kiss, muffling his groan when her palm dragged over his clothed erection, gripping it tightly. He broke the kiss, buried his face in her throat as she unbuckled his pants, her hand slipping in eagerly.

"Mikasa," He breathed, gritting his teeth when her hand found him, fingertips dragging over the rigid length. "Mikasa, fuck." He grabbed her wrist—grabbed both of them—pinned them above her head in one fist. He caught her gaze, saw the look of almost triumph in it, the power she felt at working him up so quickly.

I see, Levi thought, trying to clear his head. "My turn." He dragged his free hand over her front, rasped his fingertips down her throat, over her chest and down to her stomach—parting her thighs. "Hold still." He snaked his hand beneath her skirt, fingers tickling the inside of her thighs—she arched, her hips jerking up. He smirked. "I said hold still."

She jutted out her chin defiantly—made a strangled sound when his fingers cupped between her legs, teasingly tracing over the lacy fabric, the wetness seeping through.

"Levi." His name cut from her lips.

"You're wet." He murmured—hooking his fingers into the fabric, yanking it down roughly. "But not enough." He slipped her lace down her legs, the material tangling on her heels briefly. He tossed them aside, his fingers cupping her ankle, sliding his palm up her leg, back up her thigh—pausing. He released her hands, slipping his beneath her back, searching. "Where—where's the fucking zipper?"

Mikasa caught his wrists, dragged them to her chest. "Here."

He frowned—until he felt a small fold, a long line in the fabric from the top of the dress to the hem. He found the zipper—dragged it down achingly slowly, reveling in every newly exposed inch of skin. When he reached the end he leaned back on his knees, parting the fabric like he was unwrapping a desperately needed gift.

And when he bared her to his gaze—his lungs locked. "You weren't wearing a bra…" He smoothed his hands up her bare stomach. If I'd known…he crouched over her—saw their bodies reflected about them in the low light from above. His fingers slid between her legs, his fingertip brushing against her teasingly, making her arch beneath him wantonly.

Slowly, he slid one long finger into her, curling it forward. "Wetter," He observed, his mouth finding the side of her neck, his teeth nibbling. "Still not quite ready for me."

"Levi." She moaned, wrapping her long legs around him, her nails digging into his back viciously as his finger worked within her. "I need…"

"I know." His thumb slid up, pushing in, searching. "I know what you need." His mouth slid down her chest, his breath tickling her skin, tongue tracing small circles as his thumb found the small button of sensitive flesh. "Here." He rasped his thumb over it roughly—her cry muffled with her own hand. "Don't." He reached up with his other hand, tugging her palm away from her mouth. He circled her clit in time with the movement of his finger, driving her up, watched her arch her back, her neck, her pulse thrumming. He lowered his head, catching the tip of her breast between his white teeth, dragging another strangled moan from her lips.

He worked over her slowly, methodically, savored every touch, every moan, looking up to see her watching their reflection on the mirror over their heads. He smirked—brought her as close to the edge as he needed her—and slid her breast out of his mouth, pried his hand away from her.

"Don't—" She was shaking beneath him violently. "Levi—what—?"

"Just a little more." He dragged his lips down her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button.

He moved lower still, dipping his head between her legs, her soft curse satisfying him immensely. He dragged his tongue over her, sifting into her restlessly until he found the soft button, circling it easily once he did.

"Levi—please."

He angled his head, suckling—and she fractured, her fingers tangling in his hair tightly, holding his mouth to her as she bucked beneath him, a long drawn out moan pried from her lips. He gentled the movements of his tongue, nurturing her through it until she begged him to stop.

He conceded, his mouth dragging back up her stomach, pausing to nibble at her collarbones, kissing his way up her throat. His fingers curled into her—gentled when she flinched. "Still sensitive." He murmured, his fingers still delving deeper into her. "But you're ready now."

She couldn't quite open her eyes, her mouth pressing against his clumsily as his hand fumbled into his pocket. He found the condom, tearing it open and rolling it on quickly—pressed the tip against her entrance.

He dragged in a badly needed breath, bracing himself over her. "Wrap your legs around me." She obeyed, gripping his hips and lifting her own, pressing him into her in one smooth movement. "Wait," He cursed, letting her impale herself onto him helplessly. His hands gripped her hips, pulling them higher, burying himself deeper—she was all damp, unbearable heat, scorching him. "Fuck, Mikasa." He pushed harder against her, burying himself to the hilt, a groan tearing from his throat when she pushed against him roughly. "Stop moving."

She kept grinding onto him, finding an easy rhythm, her breath hitching as her pleasure began to build again.

Shit.

He pinned her hips down, almost slipping completely out of her. "I'm trying to slow down." He bit her bottom lip in punishment. "I'm trying to be fucking gentle—"

"Don't." She flipped them over—slid him back into her body, spreading her thighs, seating herself fully onto him. "I don't want slow." She threw her head back as she began to ride him, spoke between ragged breaths. "I don't want you to be gentle."

I don't want you to be gentle either.

She flattened her palms against his chest as she rode him roughly, greedily searching for her own pleasure, nails digging into his skin. He watched her, clenching his jaw as he tried to hold on, waiting for her to find her own pleasure—realized he wasn't going to be able to hang on for much longer.

He slid his hand down her stomach, his fingers tips pressing up between her legs, dragging across her soft flesh with every shift of her hips.

She moaned—moved faster, and fuck he couldn't hold back, couldn't—she gave a small cry, hunching forward and collapsing onto his chest, grinding onto him fiercely, breaking his control.

His hands fumbled, grasping the sides of her head, muffled his moan against her mouth, his hips bucking upwards as he came.

His hands gripped her ribs hard enough to bruise.

He tore his mouth away from hers, his pulse slowing gradually. They said nothing as their breathing returned to a normal tempo, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, the delicate, powerful lines of her back reflected in the mirror above them.

He slid his palm up her spine soothingly, quieting her small trembles. "Are you okay?"

The look she gave him was almost insulted—but mostly tired.

He smirked, brushing her hair away from her flushed face. "Stupid question, I suppose." She sat back up, pulling away from his body, curling onto her side beside him.

He removed the condom with a grimace, tossing it into a small bag of empty treats. He reached for his coat and draped it over her bare body. He shifted as he adjusted his pants, searching for his shirt. "Do you want your dress?" He looked back at her—found her eyes were shut, her breathing slow and even.

"You're asleep." Levi murmured, feeling rather winded himself. He sighed, rolling onto his back, glancing at their reflections on the mirrored ceiling, on the walls. "Merry fucking Christmas to us."

~1:00a.m.~

He woke feeling her stir, seeing her shut his jacket closed over her front—her heels still on. She looked lovely—all flushed cheekbones, bare body wrapped in a jacket too short for her, the curve of her hip exposed, her slender feet still prettily arched in strappy heels.

Naked except for his jacket.

And she looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but here.

Levi looked away, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. She looked uncomfortable—and he didn't want her to be but neither did he know how to go about easing her distress.

Don't make it worse.

"A little too late to get all skittish now, isn't it?" He arched a thin brow as he looked at her. "Considering…" He eyed her half exposed form pointedly.

Levi discovered that heels could be quite painful when dug into the skin.

~1:20a.m.~

"How long do you think it's going to take for someone to notice that we aren't anywhere to be found?" Levi murmured, carefully devouring a small sweet off of her stomach.

Mikasa's breath quickened, her fingers grasping his shoulders tightly. "Eren and Armin…always call me at midnight."

"Hmm," His mouth found the next sweet—lower down, the small caramel carefully placed over her thigh. "Hanji and Erwin call me, also." He sucked at her skin lightly, enjoying her little gasp. "They also show up in the morning to wish me happy birthday—ridiculous."

He moved lower—but she shifted, rolling over so that he was beneath her.

He scowled. "I wasn't done."

Mikasa straddled his legs, a furrow between her brows. "It's your birthday?"

Levi nodded. "It's not as if I'd do anything special to celebrate it anyway." He grasped her hips. "I hate birthdays anyway."

She eyed him grimly—and then something changed in her expression, a glint of determination, a look he'd seen when they'd been struggling through a meeting and a moment of clarity broke through her.

She reached up, grabbing a small handful of chocolates—neatly placing a line of them over his chest and down his stomach. She crouched, her mouth working over him, her tongue seeking sweet after sweet.

Levi shivered, chills plucking over his skin as her head moved down his stomach. "Shit—Mikasa." Levi clenched his jaw, his fingers cradling the back of her head as her lips encircled the sensitive head.

She glanced up through her lashes, her warm breath tickling him. "Happy birthday, Levi."

She took him into her mouth—and he cursed, arched his neck back—decided maybe he didn't hate birthdays after all.

~2:00a.m.~

"Levi," He felt her fingers sift into his hair. "Levi the lights are flickering."

He cracked open his lids, his head still in her lap. "They are." He looked up at her, still not quite awake. "It's making you nervous."

She inhaled deeply. "No."

He moved, pulling her onto him, cradling her head against his chest. "Sleep."

Her fingers gripped the side of his ribs tightly as his hand smoothed down her back and over her bottom.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Levi eyed their bare, entwined reflections—wondered what the hell would happen once they got out.

If she'd pull away.

If he would.

They both fell asleep soon after.

~6:00a.m.~

The sound of a loud buzzing woke them, along with the sudden flicker of the lights brightening. Levi sat up—pulling Mikasa up with him, held her when she slipped sideways.

"Levi—?"

"Shit." He stood, helping her onto her feet. The elevator began to move down. "Shit, shit."

They dressed as quickly as they could, barely managing to make themselves decent when the elevator stopped, the doors gliding open.

A group of technicians—along with Erwin and Hanji—stared at them openly.

Levi cleared his throat, buttoning his suit coat stiffly. "About fucking time." He grabbed his briefcase—eyed the mess of torn gift wrap and candy wrappers strewn about the elevator, the hand prints marring the mirrors, Mikasa's mussed hair—his own.

"Oh." Hanji muttered.

"Well," Erwin cleared his throat. "Thank you, gentlemen." He shook hands with the technicians, discreetly but firmly dismissing them. "Thank you for getting my coworkers out. Merry Christmas. You're free to go now."

~7:00a.m.~

Levi and Mikasa sat beside one another on the sidewalk outside, the cold biting the tips of their noses and their chapped lips. Erwin and Hanji had brought them two cups of coffee before they'd given them some privacy, and they held them between their cold hands, a stilted silence hanging between them as the sun began to peak over the tops of the buildings.

"We don't…" Levi paused, frustrated with himself. "We can pretend this never happened, if you'd like."

Mikasa kept her pretty dark eyes on the sunrise as she took another sip of her coffee. "If that's what you wish."

Levi frowned. "It's…not."

Mikasa looked at him, her expression unreadable—until the smallest of smiles touched her petal pink lips. "What now?"

He shrugged. "Dinner. Dates." He grabbed an end of her scarf, tugging her forward for a brief kiss, the movements of their mouths tinged with the relief that broke through them. He broke the kiss, kissing the side of her neck. "My apartment is just down the street." He moved to the other side of her neck, giving it the same treatment. "Spend Christmas with me, Mikasa."

Mikasa nodded, breathless.

They stood—gloved hands clasped as they walked away. Levi paused when they reached the corner, frowning at Mikasa suddenly. "This isn't just some ploy to get a pay raise, is it?"

She shoved his arm away and walked away from him—he gave a dark huff of laughter, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her back to him. "It was a damn joke."

She let him kiss her. "I deserve a pay raise."

He smirked. "You're just a younger woman out for my money and company, I see."

She shifted her hips against his. "Is it working?"

"Not one bit."

She pulled away, tugging her scarf up over her mouth as she linked their fingers. "I suppose I'll have plenty of time to work on that."

He smirked, tugging her into step beside him, letting her keep the chill away as the sunlight enveloped them. "That you will."

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