#attack on titan fanfic

[sugusearrings]

( ' safe & sound ' )

just close your eyes, the sun is going down you'll be alright no one can hurt you now come morning light you and i'll be safe and sound.

— summary: captain levi ackerman the strongest warrior alive is struggling to adjust after the war. but you (fem!reader) are there to remind him he deserves peace. — genre: fluff but tiny bit of angst. — playing: safe & sound by taylor swift — note(s): so aot just ended and i'm still in denial it's really over. my boy eren did nothing wrong but i understand, 80% is kind of a lot BUT HE WAS A CHILD WAR WEAPON. anyways, post war. SPOLIERS AHEAD JUST A FAIR WARNING OKAY. levi ackerman and reader have a slight age gape ( reader is 25 and levi is in his mid thirties). mentions of brief sex. mentions of scars and death. maybe some spelling errors i missed but i tried ~ levi may be grumpy and mean but he's a total softie to the reader. — word count: 2k

He inhaled sharply as his upper body sat up from his sleep. He could feel the cold sweat formed on his the side of his head rolling down. His chest rose up and down with each inhale he took. He ran his hand over his face. He glanced down at his hands. His two missing fingers always reminded him what happened almost five years ago now. The rumbling ending. Everyone is trying to rebuild a normal life. He never really knew what a normal life was. His life was all about fighting and survival and now it was over. What was Levi made for now?

He quickly reached over for his cane leaning against the nightstand.

Levi was determined not to be stuck to that damn chair, he did whatever exercise he could without putting too much on his body. There were some days he had to be wheeled around. But using the cane on the daily was happening often. He didn’t want to be helpless or dependent on anyone. He was never like that so why start now?

He made his way out of the bedroom and walked into the small hallway that normally took two minutes to pass but it felt entirely. He was on alert, adrenaline pumping through his veins already. How could he protect now? He felt so useless. Once the greatest warrior to this. At first it was hard accepting this new reality of his. All he wanted to do was sink more into the dark and isolate himself.

If he was gone, would anyone notice? Would anyone care? Those he loved and cared for were long gone leaving him alone. He never knew loneliness would become his true enemy.

He held his breath accepting his fate as he walked into the kitchen. His dull gray eye widen seeing you standing there already pouring some tea in one of his favorite cups. He nearly dropped his cane.

“Name…”

“Captain Levi?” You looked up at him a bit startled he was awake. He let out a heavy exhale.

“After all this time, you still callin’ me that?” He rolled his eye then shook his head. “Give me a break.” You giggled quietly with a light blush appearing on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, it’s just an old habit I guess.”

“What are you doing up?” He asked you completely ignoring what you said.

“I figured you would want some tea when you would wake up.” You replied walking over to grab another cup from the cabinet. Levi could feel his ears beginning to burn. He cleared his throat.

“You…know?” You turned around to see the flustered older man. You tilted your head slightly to the side and was baffled. He thought he could hide his nightmares from you. His nightmares of the past.

“Of course I do.”

Your warm smile still made his heart throb the same way it did when you two met.

He found you the most annoying thing ever. You were too optimistic for his liking and you were very emotional. You were immature and very impulsive. But he adored that about you. You weren’t scared to stand up for what you believe in, even against him. When he was your captain and you were just a cadet on his squad. You two saw things from different perspectives but he respected that. He wasn’t sure if he ever told you he did.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” He made his way over to the nearest chair at the table. He pulled it out so he could sit. You took the cup full of tea and walked over to place it in front of him.

“It’s okay, Levi. Your nightmares don’t always wake me,” you placed your hand over his, “I have my own too, y’know?” You gave him a gentle squeeze.

The guilt sunk deep in Levi’s chest. How could he not think about you having your own trauma for what you both went through. Losing people you love, being injured and almost close to death several times. You had many scars to prove it. Especially the one on your neck reaching to the top of your chest. It was easier to hide but doesn’t mean it wasn’t a constant reminder when you would change outfits, shower, even during intimate times.

“I’m a horrible husband aren’t I, name?” He sighed deeply, reaching to grab his cup the same way he always has. You smiled remembering the time you made fun of the way he held his glass to your other comrades. It was all laughter until Levi was behind you the whole time. When you turned around looking white as a ghost seeing Levi glaring down at you. You screamed loudly then he made you clean his office and room from top to bottom.

“A little bit.” You teased him playfully. You grinned when your husband glared at you. “I’m kidding, Levi. How are you a bad husband?”

“My wife has fucking nightmares next to me and here I am sleeping.” He snapped. You bit your bottom lip and lowered your eyes. “But I even breathe a certain way, she knows if there’s something wrong with me.” He went on becoming more aggravated with himself.

“You’re being hard on yourself again.”

“You’re not denying it.” He countered. You sighed deeply.

“Levi…I have nightmares, yes. But you help me just by being there next to me.” You gave him another squeeze. Before he could say some smart ass remark you cut him off. “You remind me of what’s happening now. I can’t forget the past...I can never forget. But waking up next you eases it and makes it better to deal with.” Levi remained silent.

He couldn’t believe someone like you could ever love someone like him. To this day he would be in disbelief. You were so warm and he was so cold. But here you are sharing a life with him.

“You make it sound so easy.” He mumbled lowly.

“I know when you have nightmares when you hold onto me tight.” You admitted. His eye widened looking over at you. You smiled shyly looking away. You were trying to hide the dark blush on your cheeks but he would always see it. You couldn’t hide it from him.

He could remember the first time he made you blush. It was the first time he saw you with your hair down. When he complemented you ( in his own way that didn’t sound too mean ), you blushed. His heart fluttered how perfect you looked with your cheeks flushed.

“You woke up because I wasn’t in bed this time…” You spoke snapping him out of his own thoughts.

“I thought in a marriage there was no such thing as secrets.” He joked dryly.

You laughed covering your mouth with your hand. He noticed some faint scars on your hand. He remembered that scar. He remembers all the scars on every inch of your body. He would kiss them gently some nights making your breathing hitch. He would kiss the scar on your neck the most. He felt that needed the most attention. The day he almost lost you for good.

You were fighting alongside him against Zeke for the first time.

That’s when Levi realizes his feelings for you.

He stood by your side whenever he can, waiting for you to recover. He would even read out loud to you. When you woke up a few days later, you asked him to re-read the sentence he just read because you couldn’t hear him.

What nearly broke him when he thought you drank the wine with the spinal fluid.

Thankfully you didn’t but he confessed his feelings for you the same night. Yes, it was inappropriate for a caption to be with his cadet but he didn’t care about his title or yours in that moment. Levi just needed you to know in case something happened. He was ready to hear your rejection but when you confessed your own feelings for him, he was relieved.

That’s when Zeke did the explosion, Levi had enough time to push you off the wagon leaving him to suffer the injuries alone. He doesn’t regret it. He’ll do it all over again.

“Is this how you pictured how things would be after?” You asked him gently. Levi closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them. His dull gray eyes staring into yours.

“Yes and no.”

“That’s not a fair answer, Captain Levi.”

“Name.”

“Sorry.” You held your hands up in defense. He sighed softly.

“Yes, I pictured this after the rumbling. Marrying you, having a normal life with you. Just being with you in peace. What I didn’t expect was to be like this.” He glanced down at his hand again that bandaged up from the fingers he lost from that explosion. “I wasn’t much of a looker then but god look at me now.” He let out a sad chuckle. You frowned, feeling your heart aching. Was he serious right now? You thought Levi was the most handsome man you ever met. You were drawn to his dark gray hues. During the day they would glisten.

“Levi, don’t think that. You’re still handsome to me and always will be.”

“Don’t feed me that shit, name.” Levi scoffed. His stubbornness was still the same as before. You sighed and rested your chin on your hand letting him ramble on his negativity. “Probably see me as a pity case.”

“If that’s so, why do we still make love four times a week?” You questioned. When you looked over to your husband who was silent but red in the face. You felt your lips curl up into a smirk. “Cat got your tongue, captain Levi? Oh I’m sorry, I forgot to mention how we fuck multiple times. All night if I don’t tap out.” You purred in a tone you knew was his weakness. Levi shifted a bit in his seat then brought his left hand to clear his throat.

“Shut it you brat.”

You simply smiled at your victory.

“I love you, Levi. I don’t know why you can’t accept that.”

“You deserve better.”

“So do you.” You replied back. Levi glared at you once again.

“How can you say that shit?”

“Because you’re saying it so why not?” You shrugged then got up to pour yourself that tea you swore it was cold by now. Levi’s eye scanned down to your body how it hid underneath his white shirt. When you would lift to reach something it exposed some of your bare flesh underneath. He held his breath for a moment.

“I just…hope this is what you want.” His voice spoke. You didn’t turn around. Your eyes glanced down at your cup you were holding. Your ring finger was empty but the silver band stood on your nightstand with your glass of water that was empty now. Levi would always bring you a glass of water before bed.

“I want to spend my life with you, Levi. We’re at peace now. You’re at peace. You deserved this. You risked your life so many times. Everyday it’s a struggle for you to live with what happened. But we can do it together, just trust me?”

You turned with glossy eyes staring back over to him. He used his strength to stand up on his own for a moment. Then he made his way over to you. Once he was close enough, he placed his hand on your cheek just studying your face.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings…I’m just scared to lose you.” He confessed not trying to make eye contact with you. You placed your hand on his cheek and stroked it with your thumb. You stroked over the scars left behind by the stitches on his face you did for him. “I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost you.”

“I survived to live a life with you, Levi.”

You whispered then leaned forward to place your lips against his. His arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer to his body. His lips moved against yours passionately. He pushed his body against yours causing your lower back to press against the counter. You let out a shaky breath when he broke the kiss then started to kiss along your neck. His fingers trailed down to the buttons on your shirt. Just when you were going to close your eyes and enjoy his lips sucking on your skin you were interrupted.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

You both pulled away at the same time to see a groggy toddler with messy dark hair all over the place. He hugged his stuffed bear tightly with his other arm.

“Hi baby.” You greeted him softly making. Levi straighten your shirt making sure the buttons were still in tact.

“What are you doing up, hm?” Levi asked him. The toddler frowned with his gray eyes half open.

“I wanna sleep with you and mama.” He made grabby hands towards him. He shook his head.

“Sorry kid, you have to go sleep in your bed like a big boy.” Your son sniffed and his big gray eyes began to water. Of course you were a sucker but you didn’t expect for Levi to be the one who caved in. “Tsk. Fine. Just for tonight.” Levi grabbed his cane and began to walk back into your bedroom. The little boy’s eyes beamed, making you giggle quietly. You brought the two cups to the sink thinking you were in the clear.

“Clean those damn cups.” Levi’s voice echoed from the bedroom.

You sucked your teeth with an eye roll.

“I’ll clean them in the morning.” You entered the bedroom seeing Levi already in bed. He leaned over to bring his son into bed. He snuggled up against his father, sighing happily feeling his warmth. You went over to your side on the bed to lay next to your son.

Levi always spoke about not wanting children. You didn’t have a clear answer if you wanted them or not. Some days you did but bringing them in a world like this wasn’t fair either. But finding out you were pregnant on your wedding day was a surprise. It meant you were pregnant during the fight that stopped the rumbling.

It was a miracle the child growing inside of you survived. But he’s a fighter like his father.

Asher Levi Ackerman.

A fortunate blessing for you both.

You leaned against the headboard stroking Asher’s hair as his eyes began to close.

“He looks just like you.” You whispered to Levi as you moved some of Asher’s dark hair out of his face. He smiled a bit.

“You think so?”

“Everyone says it. He looks nothing like me.”

“But he acts like you. A brat.”

You reached over to shove him playfully. It made him chuckle.

“Sleep, name. We have a long day at the shop tomorrow.”

“Fuck me.” You mumbled under your breath with a groan.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Levi laid down and closed his eyes hearing you giggle quietly before drifting back to sleep. You laid down staring at your son and husband cuddling with one another. You could tell Levi’s nightmare was over for the night. You soon drifted into a deep slumber.

And yes, you did forget to wash the teacups in the sink

But Levi washed them before opening the tea shop for the day but he did remember to scold you about it.

#drabbles #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman fluff #aot x female reader #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan drabble #( sugusearrings writing * )

[amywritesthings]

chocolate-covered silver. / a levi ackerman valentine's ficlet.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) word count: 1.8k summary: Happy Valentine's Day readers. Why not celebrate with some Levi Ackerman smut? note: set in the universe of silver underground

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, levi's pov, explicit language, secret relationship, gifts, eating desserts, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), touch-starved idiots credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

He could kill Hange for this.

A nice gesture, they said — as if he doesn’t already wait on James hand and foot whenever the other Scouts aren’t looking.

She’ll love it, they promised — but not without adding a probably after the sourpuss scowl started forming on his face.

He’s been her close friend for over a decade. 

He’s been in her bed for a fraction of that.

So why does walking to her quarters with a tiny bouquet of hand-picked flowers and imported chocolate from Wall Sina feel like such a death march?

“I’m only trying to help you out,” Hange quipped last week, interrupting his perfectly-happy afternoon tea. “Is it not a day people celebrate in the Underground City?”

“We don’t celebrate stupid shit in the Underground,” Levi corrects, fingertips locked around the mouth of his cup. “And besides, it’s a married couple’s holiday.”

“Not always,” Hange argues, finger lifting in a contrarian manner. “People who date celebrate.”

“That’s not us.”

He’s not technically wrong.

You’re not dating, but he doesn’t know what the hell this is.

Hange’s smile only widens at that. “Friends celebrate, too.”

“Then where’s my flowers, shithead?” Levi retorts.

That earns a bark of a laugh from the Section Commander. “If you want me to go pick you some flowers to put in your stallion’s hair, Levi, make no mistake — I will run out there right now.”

“That’s a present for my horse, not for me.”

Hange waggles their brows, leaning over the table and ruining his peace. “Gives you ample opportunity to pick some flowers for our hardworking Lieutenant, too.”

He told them to go away.

Now, six days later, he’s here.

He’s showing up like a dumbass at her doorstep trying not to run the other way before you know. 

Are you going to think he’s an idiot for partaking in holidays that mean nothing to them?

The only gift he’d ever given you was that damned necklace you never take off. It was the only thing he could afford back then, down there, while they fought for their lives.

Although they may be still in the fight for their lives here, too, he can afford much, much more for you now.

He will buy you a thousand silver necklaces if you want them.

Clearing his throat, the Captain takes a moment to collect his resolve before tapping a knuckle against the wooden door frame.

You shuffle behind it. You must have been going over presentation plans Erwin sent over.

He debates on putting the flowers behind his back or—

“Levi?”

Shit.

Too late.

He stares at you when you open the door, blinking twice. You mirror the movements, blinking between the box and the bunch of flowers in either hand.

Mistake.

Mistake, mistake, mistake—

“Are those…?” you start, trying to hide your amusement.

Levi scowls and holds out the bouquet. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“I was gonna say ‘handpicked’,” you reply with a snort, taking the flowers gently from his hand. Levi can feel his heart beating a mile a minute as he waits with a forced stoicism. “What’s the occasion?”

He stops breathing altogether when you lean down to smell the aroma of the bouquet. The way your face melts from stress to enjoy the moment, the scent, has him weak in the knees.

For someone that’s been labeled humanity’s strongest, you sure have a way of making his knees buckle from nothing.

“It’s… Valentine’s Day up here,” he carefully states, hating every syllable of it.

“Valentine’s Day?” you repeat, holding the flowers close to your chest. You step back, allowing him access to your quarters. Levi doesn’t hesitate to enter.

“Some holiday where people celebrate—”

“—lovers?” you finish for him, and the captain feels like he’s trudged in quicksand. “I know. Hange mentioned it to me the other week.”

Fucking Hange.

“Funny that they did,” Levi grumbles, before turning on a heel. You close your door as he extends his arm with his second gift. “You’re supposed to spend the day with someone special to you. Someone — well, it can be a friend —”

“Oh, we’re friends?” you tease him as you take the box of chocolates.

You’re going to kill him.

“James.”

“What? It’s nice to reaffirm — oh, shit.”

He stops in his tracks, painfully aware that you’ve gasped. His eyes slide to the now-opened box full of exquisite chocolate, throat now tight with uncertainty.

Maybe you hate it.

He really shouldn’t have listened to Hange.

“This is real chocolate,” you whisper, and that uncertainty melts into something so very warm.

“As opposed to fake chocolate?” he asks to keep his wits about him. To see you scowl.

“You know what I mean, Ackerman,” you snip, and he fights every muscle in his face to keep a smile at bay. “Where the hell did you get this stuff?”

“Don’t worry about it. Here.”

He steps confidently across the bedroom floor boards to pluck a piece of chocolate out of the box, holding it up towards your lips.

“Open.”

He knows that shift in your gaze when your eyes meet.

Yeah, Valentine’s Day is known for stuff like that, too.

(He can show you.)

Obediently you part your lips, widening your mouth so he can fit the chocolate right between your teeth. It catches, and you use your tongue to pull it into your mouth.

The pleasure is instantaneous. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the real-time image burning the back of his mind, and he can’t hold back anymore.

“Is it good?” he asks, placing his hands on your hips.

“Better than good.” You hold out a piece for him. “Open.”

He hesitates when the little ball comes to his lips, but eventually he opens his mouth. You’re not wrong — it’s delicious. They don’t make anything like this underground. 

It’s a luxury, though he had intended only for you to enjoy them.

Of course you’d include him.

“See what I’m talking about?” you ask with an excitement that’s damn adorable.

“It’s fine,” Levi answers, knowing the indignance that’s bound to flutter over your face. He huffs a breathless laugh before swallowing the chocolate down. “Come here.”

Lifting one hand to your chin, he pulls you in with nonexistent resistance. Your lips brush against his, at first slow then sensual.

He wants to tell you.

(Your lips taste like chocolate, but you taste better.)

But he’d rather show you.

He glides forward, using the hand on your hip to steer.

You easily comply with his steps forward, guiding you back to your bed. His plan must be in the back of your mind as he kisses you like it’s his last, but he can feel it — the way your lips curve in that knowing smile.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, voice velvety with want. It drives him insane.

“Celebrating you,” Levi mumbles in return, pushing your body backwards.

You easily fall to the bed and he drops with you, knee to the mattress. Levi crawls down, down, to the edge of the mattress with his hands preoccupied with the zipper of your casual trousers. 

You don’t ask what he’s doing — all you do is giggle when he impatiently tugs the fabric down.

“As a lover or a friend?” you tease once your legs are freed.

Levi doesn’t answer.

Not verbally, anyway.

He wraps an arm around your hips, keeping you in place as he swats your legs wider. Your breath hitches from surprise — good, you’re too mouthy right now and he intends to remind you.

Friend, lover, it doesn’t matter.

It’s all synonymous to him.

You’re everything.

His past, his present —

And if he can bury his face into your pussy for the rest of his days, then it’s one hell of a future he can get behind.

The squeak of surprise rips from your lungs faster than you can stop the noise, and Levi is wholly satisfied by the sound. His tongue drags along your slit, coating his mouth with the taste of you mixed with the chocolate still lingering on his taste buds, and he groans.

This.

This is the only thing he needs for this dumb fucking holiday.

“Le—”

You can’t even finish his two-syllable name. You squirm, curse, arch, as he laps once, twice, before paying special attention to your clit.

Yeah, you won’t think straight now.

He knows you.

When his eyes flicker up from his work, he sees the way you struggle to watch him with that flushed face; how your chest heaves in that cotton shirt; how you want to encourage him, beg him, but your mind’s blank whenever his tongue swirls that precious clit of yours.

With his eyes, he says everything he needs to:

This is what I want. This is my gift from you.

Then he sucks lightly on your clit, rhythmic and calculated, and you have to slam your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. 

Good. 

Fight to keep this a secret.

Because if it was his choice, he often thinks about ruining this — the image of a captain and a lieutenant, platonic and brave, like you’re not riding him in the middle of the night after a hard day of exploration and failures.

Like he’s not finger fucking you in the hallways as a reward after dealing with the higher ups in meetings upon meetings upon meetings.

Like you’re still two teenagers sneaking around, an underground flipped upside-down.

He hums and the vibrations make your legs shake. He has to keep from grinning, too focused on getting you to the edge by his mouth and his mouth alone.

You grow quiet when you’re almost there.

It’s been dead silent for several seconds.

He works overtime, arms locked around your hips to keep you in his orbit, as he licks and sucks and flicks his tongue side to side when—

That devastating sob.

The way your body arches like a woman possessed.

Thighs slam into his ears, making him feel dizzy, but he doesn’t stop.

Not until you whimper and tug and push at his hair to go away, and even then—

One last lick, for doing such a good job.

“You’re a menace,” you finally breathe, letting go of your mouth as your palm rests on your sweat-beaded forehead instead.

Levi lazily kisses down your inner thighs as you come back to planet Earth, proud of just how fast it took this time to get you there. He’s getting better at this, every single day.

Soon enough you won’t last a minute.

He’s determined for it.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m not sorry about it,” he murmurs, lips shiny and red from his efforts.

You laugh, and his heart swells.

“I think I like this holiday.”

Yeah.

Levi thinks he can get behind this holiday, too.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman smut #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan fanfic #levi x you #levi x reader #levi smut #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fanfic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #valentines day fanfic #valentines day fic #vday fanfiction

[cassiefromhell]

Lollipops

Post-War: Levi Ackerman x Reader

wc: 4.3k

warnings: SPOILERS. im so serious guys. SPOILERS. if you havent watched/read to the FINALE, do not progress. you've been warned. also theres a little tiny bit of gore.

a/n: this is self-defense writing to protect my sanity after the last ep. im so not okay with it being over. also requests are open, i'll write anything! also, this is written in flashbacks. but never fear, the flashbacks are separated from the present by dividers, so you'll know when it switches.

“You two are like a fairytale couple,” a young girl giggles, hugging a pink-covered book to her chest. “Like a damsel and her prince.” 

You smile, pulling a lollipop out of your box — and then another, handing them to her. “Take two for sweet-talking me. But remember that true love isn’t perfect by any means.”

She grins, nods, and takes her candy, sprinting off into an old woman’s arms. You sigh softly, looking up to see that the line of children coming to receive candy from Paridian heroes is momentarily empty.

“Not perfect, huh?” Levi asks from beside you, shifting in his chair.

You roll your eyes, gently flicking the side of his head. You crouch down to be on his level. “You’re saying that we had a fairytale romance? That you swept me off my feet and carried me away from danger?”

“Yes. I would. Now get your ass up, I don’t need you to get down for me,” he scowls, his eyes flicking over your kneeling form.

“I would get down on my knees for you anyti—”

“Up.”

You grin, but listen to him and stand up, picking up your box once more. “Fairytale, huh? So what are you, the savior?”

“I’d say it’s even. Although, I remember saving your ass much more often than you saved mine.”

You scoff, putting your hands on your hips. “Name a time!”

“Get your ass up, scout!”

You groan, shoving yourself up onto your elbows. “Just a sec,” you manage between heavy breaths, coughing and coughing.

Hoofbeats approach and you whimper, knowing that if that’s the captain you think it is, you’re about to get the beating of a lifetime.

“Why, exactly, are you laying in the dust?” Captain Levi Ackerman asks, tone cold and voice sharp as a knife. “You’re a transfer, not a cadet. From the MP’s, even. I expected better.”

“I’m recovering from an injury, Captain,” you wheeze out, pressing a hand to your side and shoving yourself up onto your knees. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“You’d better be. Now, up. On your feet, or be left behind.”

You pull one foot under you, then the other, and nearly collapse. His arm shoots out to grab your bicep, effectively keeping you up as your side screams in protest, ribs aching and tears springing to your eyes.

“What kind of an injury?” he asks, his grip tightening. “Why on earth would you switch to the Survey Corps while injured?”

“Ribs,” you hiss, gripping your side. The doctors have said that nearly all your ribs on your right side are either bruised, fractured, or completely broken. “And I had no choice. I had to leave.”

He narrows his eyes, but slowly releases you, making sure you’re not going to fall over the second he lets go. “You’re in no condition to be training, and I don’t need you getting worse. I have no interest in crippled soldiers. Go inside and get yourself assigned to kitchen duty for the next two weeks, on Ackerman’s orders.”

Your eyes slowly shift up from the ground to him, and you get your first good look at him.

And holy shit, the rumors of Humanity’s Strongest did not mention how mouth-wateringly attractive he is.

You give the dumbest nod you’ve ever given and turn on your heel. You hobble your way inside, and then immediately lean against a cold, stone wall, repeating to yourself in your head over and over again:

We are not falling for a captain.

We are not falling for a captain.

You open and close your mouth, then shrug. “Okay, but of course you were going to save my ass a lot while I was training. I’m sure it got better once I was a captain.”

“Did it, though?”

You elbow him, scowling. A smirk dances on his lips.

A woman grinning ear-to-ear starts your way, and you narrow your eyes. “She’s too old for candy.”

“Reporter,” Levi grumbles, looking down into his box, as if not making eye contact will stop her from approaching.

“Hi!” She shouts, giving a big wave. “I was hoping to ask you two a quick few questions, while you’re not too busy.”

“We’re quite busy,” Levi drones.

“Ah! I had heard about that grumpy attitude!” The reporter laughs, then looks at you. “And you must be his sunshine!”

You scratch the back of your neck, shrugging. “Something like that.”

The reporter whips out a pen and paper. “Now, all sources say that tog two have been married for quite some time, but nothing ever tells me when you two met, or how! Do tell.”

“We met in the service,” you start, rubbing your chin. “I had just transferred to the military police, so I was starting fresh in the Survey Corps.”

She quirks a brow. “Why did you transfer?”

The air simply won’t come to your lungs. You can’t breathe. The night sky doesn’t help, the fresh cool air is only suffocating you more.

You drop to the grass in the courtyard, one hand on your healing side and the other around your throat. Tears pour down your face, and you cough, and cough, and cough, and gasp.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t help. You can still remember what really happened, his hand around your neck, boot in your side, the bruises along each ridge of your spine from being tossed into a wall.

Your ribs may have been almost fully healed now, after two months being a Scout, but you still can feel each kick he gave you just for telling him no.

“Breathe.”

You sputter, looking up to see Captain Levi kneeling in front of you. He grips your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Breathe, come on. Take a deep breath.”

You try, you really do, but you only end up sobbing harder. Your hands clench the grass.

He sighs heavily, scooting over to your side and awkwardly patting your back. “Breathe.”

You manage to slow your breathing, and take a few good deep breaths. Then you immediately stumble to your feet. “…Sorry. I’ll head back now.”

His hand is around your wrist before you can even register that he’s gotten up. “Why are you out here so late, crying in the damn courtyard?”

“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream, you murmur, tugging your hand away from him and heading back inside.

You feel assessing eyes on your back as you walk, and you can’t help but look down at your hand, that hand that you wore a ring on for a year and a half.

You’ve fallen silent, chewing your lip and looking off to the side. The reporter tilts her head, raising a brow. 

“She just needed a fresh start,” Levi answers for you, placing a hand on your hip for reassurance. “And that’s what she got.”

She accepts that answer, writing down the words. “Now, how did you two end up together? Was it live at first sight?”

Levi scoffs. “Far from it.”

You glare at him. “Well, I liked you.”

“No, you hated me. You just wanted to fuck.”

“Thank you, Hange,” you grin, folding up the card again and tucking it back into the envelope, which reads ‘Congrats, new Captain!’. “I really appreciate it.”

A year in the Survey Corps flew by fast, and you had shown immense skill in the craft, therefore earning the title of Captain of your very own squad.

But your skills weren’t the only thing that had developed. You and Levi tolerated each other now, even if he thought you were loud and chaotic and you thought he was grumpy and sad, like a lonely old man.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He was handsome, and every once in a while you’d say something that would make his mouth tilt up, and… that mouth. It would be the death of you.

Hange heads out, leaving you alone in your room for the first time in hours. Everybody had been in and out, offering congratulations and words of advice.

You sink back onto your bed, yawning. It’s been a long day, and now you just want to sleep—

But a knocking comes on your door, and in walks Levi.

“I could have been naked,” you grin as he strides over, dumping a pile of paperwork on your desk.

“Captains have more paperwork than everybody else. I’ve been assigned to show you how to fill it out.”

“I bet you were hoping I was naked” you tease, but get up anyway, running a hand down your face as you stand next to him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re boring.”

“Boring? Really?”

“Yeah.”

There is a short silence, with Levi sorting through the papers. And suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that you are in your bedroom, alone, with Levi Ackerman.

And apparently he’s aware of it too, because he gives you a look.

And then you jump on him.

The reporter laughs and scratches a few things down on her pad of paper, her eyes crinkling around the edges. “And what year was this?”

“We met in 846, and then started seeing each other romantically in 847,” you explain. You open a lollipop and stick it in your mouth.

The reporter only stares at you, a brow lifted and eyes narrowed.

“Eleven years ago,” Levi says, and then she nods and writes it down.

“What—”

“Different years,” Levi murmurs, shaking his head. “They’re in the damn 1900’s, remember.”

You flush, blood rushing to your ears and cheeks. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with the rest of the world, you always forget that years are different and you can take a plane somewhere and getting a papercut doesn’t mean you might die of sepsis.

For you, it’s still 858.

“Did you two personally know Eren Jaeger?”

You crouch by the bars, tilting your head as you examine him. Just a child. Skinny. He couldn’t hurt a fly.

“This is the titan child?” You ask, squinting. “He’s, what, fifteen?”

“Yes. Please step back,” Levi says. “You don’t need to be that close.”

“He’s like a fleck of dirt in a crop field. I need to be this close to see him. Are you sure he really—“

The chains on his arms rattle, and you skitter back, slamming into the wall beside Levi.

“Careful,” he scowls, brushing dirt off of your shoulder.

“What… happened?” The boy asks, rubbing his eyes.

Erwin launches into a full explanation, and by the time he’s done the boy looks completely lost.

“You’re… the commander of the Survey Corps,” he looks at Erwin, “…And Captain Levi, and Captain {Y/N}… where am I?”

“A dungeon—”

Erwin keeps speaking, but a thump near the staircase catches your attention. You stride off, past the MP guards, and peek around the corner.

There, struggling against a guard, is the young girl that you’ve been told is Mikasa.

You scowl, shutting the door behind yourself and storming up to her.

“Calm down,” you whisper, taking both her wrists in one hand and pushing her up against a wall. “Do you realize what you’re risking here?” 

“You don’t understand, I need to see him—”

“Shut up. You’re risking his freedom by coming this close. Go back upstairs.”

She glares at you, damn near baring her teeth. But you hold firm, and she slowly nods.

“Good, now go.”

You release her, and with one final glance over her shoulder, she trudges up the stairs.

You run a hand through your hair,  thinking to yourself: these new scouts are going to be an issue, aren’t they?

“Yes,” you say, nodding. “We knew all of the kids.”

“All of them?” she asks, furiously scratching down your words.

“We were both captains when Eren’s year entered the corps — we trained them. Of course we knew them all.”

“On my squad,” you read off of your paper, speaking to the large crowd in front of you — all the scouts that will be on the next expedition. “…I am pulling in an extra scout. Mikasa Ackerman will join me in the center ranks.”

Whispers run through the crowd, and you step off of the stage, taking your spot next to Levi in the captains line. Erwin picks up a speech, talking about the squad formations.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn, and your eyes widen as you’re met with your favorite chaos trio: Jean, Sasha, and Connie.

“Get into your formation,” you hiss.

“But, here’s the thing,” Jean whispers. “I’ve been really great during training. What do I have to do to get on your squad?”

“Jean!” you narrow your eyes. “You are not getting on my squad.”

“I would bring you food every day,” Sasha pleads, putting her hands out in a prayer position. “Please! We’d be the best squad ever.”

You actually pause to consider that for the food, but Levi stomps on your foot. “Ow— Uhm, no. Now return to formation or I’ll bump you down a squad.”

They skitter off, moving through the crowd. You just hope that they’ll go to the right place this time.

You sigh, facing forward again. You’ve already heard everything that Erwin has to say, so this is all repeat to you.

You brush your hand against Levi’s, and his pinky touches yours. You lock them together, resisting the urge to just lean into his warmth.

Pinkies locked, you wait out the rest of the assembly.

“Would you say you were close with any of them?”

Levi shrugs. “They respected me. They loved her.”

“Oh, they loved you too,” you grin, patting his shoulder. “Loved you enough for Historia to smack you the second she was legally allowed to.”

“Have there been any hardships?” The reporter cuts in.

You pause. Levi pauses.

“Of course,” he murmurs, voice softer now. He brushes his fingertips against your thigh.

As soon as you make it in through the gate, Levi is at your side, pulling his horse up next to yours.

“Let me look,” he murmurs, beckoning with his hand. 

You shake your head, cradling your messily bandaged hand to your chest. “No.”

“{Y/N}. Let me look,” his voice is more stern now.

You know the damage. You found a cloaked figure up high in the trees, you went for the attack, and they were faster than you. It was a clean cut. Your index and middle fingers are gone, as well as a chunk of your thumb.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I can’t take it off ‘till I reach the medics,” you whisper back, turning away from him. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

But he doesn’t leave. He stays by your side, silently. He rides with you all the way to the scout headquarters, silently. He walks with you to the medics, without a single word.

The medics take one look at you, and, having heard that you were coming in, usher you into a private room.

There are three medics with you, which means they consider your injury a serious one. 

The lead medic closes the door, and then turns to you with a pitiful smile. “Let’s take a look, alright captain?”

You cradle your hand closer to your chest. You feel like a child, not wanting to accept what’s happened. But it’s… your hand… this is forever. 

Levi gently touches your arm. “You don’t have to look.”

You can’t remember the last time Levi was so soft with you. You’ve been with him for years by now, but he’s just not a soft person.

Nevertheless, he pulls your face against his shoulder, stroking your hair. He carefully pulls your wrapped hand away from you, holding it out for the medics. 

You feel it immediately when they start pulling the bandages off, and you bury your face into Levi’s shirt, whimpering.

“You’re alright. They’ve almost got it off,” he murmurs, holding your face against his chest.

The wrapping falls away, and there’s a soft gasp from one of the medics, followed by Levi stiffening.

“Is it bad?” you moan, crying out as someone prods something painful.

“Do you want me to lie?”

“No.”

“It’s not good. But it’s a clean cut, so they’re going to clean it and stitch it up for you. You’ll be fine.”

You fist his shirt. “…Please don’t go.”

He pulls you a little closer. “I won’t. I won’t leave your side.”

The next thing you know, they’ve stuck your hand in alcohol, and you’re screaming.

You tuck your half-hand into your pocket, out of the reporter’s watchful gaze.

���But you two are married, correct?”

Levi nods. “Yes.”

“When were you married?”

You look to Levi, smiling softly. “Well, twice. Once in Paradis, and they don’t acknowledge Paridian marriage licenses here, so we did it all over again a couple years ago.”

“When was the first time?”

Your hand has become a focus for you.

Just as you lay in bed now, holding your two and a half fingers above your head. The stitches have been taken out, leaving you with pinky and ring fingers, two little nubs cut below the first knuckle, and half of a thumb. It’s still healing, but this is pretty much what your hand will look like. Forever. Till the day you finally croak.

The door swings open, and you immediately feel Levi’s cold, calculating gaze. “Are you picking at it again?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “Just looking. Y’know, at least I still have a ring finger.”

“Why does that matter?” He asks. He takes off his jacket and hangs it up, then sits on the bed beside you and starts on his boots.

“So one day I could wear a wedding ring.”

He pauses. You pause, realizing what just came out of your mouth.

He turns to face you, leaving one boot on and the other half off. “You’re interested in marriage.”

Suddenly your face feels hot. “…Yeah.”

“To me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s really what you want?”

You nod, chewing your lip.

“Then marry me.” His face stays completely blank.

You sit up slowly, eyes wide. “You— you wanna marry me?”

“You already know that I love you. If you want marriage, it’s only logical that—”

You cut him off by tackling him, sending the both of you tumbling off the bed. Levi twists so that he’ll hit the ground and you’re just land on him, but you have no time to ask if he’s okay between all the kisses you’re showering across his face.

He scoffs. “Enough, woman.”

“You wanna be stuck with me!? Really?!” You grin, sitting up to be straddling his waist. 

“I guess so.”

You throw your arms over your head, starting to sing to yourself. “You looooove me, you wanna maaaarry me, I’m gettin’ maaaarried,” you snap to your own little beat, dancing on his waist.

You look down at him, beaming, just to find him watching you with soft gray eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers.

The reporter smiles and nods, then looks over her notes. “Well, I just have one more question, and then I’ll leave you two be.”

Levi looks quite ready to be done, so you speak up. “Just make it quick.”

She nods, looking up at you one last time. “Did everyone else know you two were together?”

You sigh, reaching behind you and pulling your hair out of its ponytail. It’s been a long day, and all you want is to refill your ODM fuel for tomorrow and go to bed.

You approach the supply closet, but pause when you hear voices. You peer in, eyes widening at the sight.

Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, and Bertholdt all crowd around a table, coins in piles. But there are no cards. No game.

“Listen,” Connie says, throwing up his hands. “It’s just gotta be someone in the Survey Corps. There’s no way it’s not!”

“But wouldn’t we know if it was?” Jean adds, rubbing his chin. “There aren’t too many options.”

“Miche?” Mikasa proposes, spinning a coin in her fingers.

“What? No,” Eren scoffs. “Absolutely not. Armin, what do you think?”

Armin lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “I already lost my money on the bet that Captain {Y/N} would stay single. I thought she was the type to not want or need a man.”

Ah. So they’re betting… on my love life!?

“Well, she’s wearing a ring, that’s for sure…” Sasha rubs her chin. “What if it’s Levi?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Everyone in the room erupts into laughter. 

“Ha! Her and Levi? When pigs fly!” Eren laughs, banging his fist on the table.

“You’re such an idiot,” Connie grins, shoving Sasha. “I’d say she’s a lesbian before that!”

You smirk and roll your eyes, walking away from the room. You just know that they’re gonna be knocked off their feet when they find out.

“No, no, it took them quite a while to find out,” you laugh, shaking your head. “They couldn’t have guessed it if they’d put all their little brains together — and believe me, they did.”

“So, how did they find out?”

“Alrighty, Armin,” you sigh, running a hand over your head. “Let’s get this transformation done. The area is cleared for miles, so just give me a few minutes to get out of dodge, and you’ll get the smoke signal to go ahead.”

He nods, chewing his lip. 

“Hey,” you pat his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

With that done, you turn, shooting your grappling hooks into a tree and soaring off into the forest.

After a few minutes, you’re damn near in the safe zone.

Near.

And then the sky lights up like a Christmas tree.

As expected, a massive explosion sounds behind you, and your ears immediately start to ring. More concerning, however, is the shrapnel made of trees and dirt and rocks flying your way.

You shriek, turning forward once more and zipping your way through the trees. Except, you have to hold your left sword in a weird way because of your hand, and then a gush of wind hits you and—

The branch you’re swinging from snaps, and you’re sent tumbling to the ground, unable to right yourself. 

The grass gets nearer and nearer, and you fumble with your swords. But you won’t make it. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, and accept your fate—

Until you collide with Levi’s chest, and his arms are around you, and you’re zipping towards the safe zone.

“Holy shit,” you wheeze, coughing on stirred up dust. You grip his shoulders, shaking from all of the adrenaline rushing through you.

You’re back in the group with the others in no time, and Levi immediately puts you on the ground. But you don’t get a hug and a ‘thank god you’re alive.’ No, Levi puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes you.

“Are you crazy?” He hisses, gripping your jaw with one hand. “I’ve told you to hold your swords upside down like I do, so this wouldn’t happen. You almost died, and all because of your idiocy—”

“Levi—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You cannot go dying on me, you hear me? I will not lose you.”

You bite your lip, putting a hand on his chest. “Levi…”

“You are such a fucking idiot. I cannot believe I married someone who would risk her own life like that. You need to value yourself, damn it! You cannot leave me here alone—”

You shut him up with a kiss, rooting your hand in his hair. He kisses you back without hesitation, his hands flying to your waist.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you murmur, pulling away. “You saved me. You caught me. And I’m confident that you always will.”

His jaw clenches, a muscle feathering, and he opens his mouth, but a voice from the right interrupts whatever he had planned to say.

“Did I, uh… miss a chapter?” Jean asks.

You look over to find almost all of Eren’s friend group standing there, dumbfounded. Hange sits up in a tree, grinning ear to ear, but they’ve known about you two for years.

You grin, shaking your head. “The money goes to Sasha.”

“AND YOU ALL CALLED ME STUPID!” Sasha shrieks, throwing her hands up in the air.

“That’s all I need,” the reporter nods, and closes her notebook, tucking away her pen. “Nice meeting you two, heroes.”

She leaves with a wink, and just in time, because a little refugee boy has approached, hands behind his back.

You give him a soft smile, kneeling to be on his level. “Would you like a lollipop?”

The boy nods, giving a shy smile. 

Levi reaches into his box, holding out a blue lollipop. He gives the child his softest smile, and in that smile you see it all.

You see the man that saved your ass more times than you can count. The man who presses a kiss to your temple when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. The man who blushes when you run your hands down his chest. The man who doesn’t give anyone that soft smile of his, except for on very rare occasions.

Your man.

The center of your universe.

The boy takes his lollipop, bows at the waist, and then skitters off with a  mumbled ‘thank you.’

You watch him go, and then you turn back, met with Levi, holding out a lollipop to you.

You press a kiss to his scarred knuckles and take it, giving him your own soft smile. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you too, brat,” he chuckles, turning back to the box of candy.

And you remember the nights you spent eating sweets he brought back for you from town.

You remember every night with him.

Because Levi is your world. Your one and only.

And he always will be, from now until the end of time.

@jeannineee be proud of me bitch <3

#fanfiction #aot #levi aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #second person #2nd person pov #post war aot #cassiefromhell

[wing-ed-thing]

Tandem (Levi x Reader)

Synopsis: The two of you work together seamlessly. Your clear intimacy was usually left unspoken... that is, until Eren asks the stupid question.

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags/Warnings: Language, Fluff, No Reader Pronouns

Notes: I think it’s funny that my last Levi fic was about Levi and reader like... hating each other hahaha. I guess I simply must bring balance

“Do you have the—”

“Right here.”

Watching the two of you in action was fascinating. 

Levi tossed you a canister from over his shoulder. The metal container flipped through the air, nearly smacking Eren directly in the face. He ducked just in time. The canister landed perfectly into your outstretched hand. You didn’t even look up from the crate of supplies you were tending to. Eren sputtered.

“Hey, watch it! You almost hit me!” 

“Don’t be in the way.” You spoke the command in unison. Neither you nor Levi missed a beat. Eren caught a mutual eye roll as you and Levi continued to organize the new cargo shipment. 

You secured a thick wooden lid onto your crate and made a tick on your clipboard. You maneuvered out of the way just in time for Levi to heave over an equally massive wooden box. He stacked it on top of yours.  

“Tell me that’s all of it,” Levi grumbled, placing a familiar touch on your shoulder as he peered over your amassment of papers. You flipped the pages with a solemn shake of your head. 

“Between what we brought back from the expedition and the disaster that was this last shipment, I’d say we’re done with barely half.”

“Fucking hell…” 

Immediately after expeditions, your leftover supplies would be checked and consolidated into storage to prepare for the next outing and regular patrols. That had always been an undertaking and typically took the whole night. But when you were away, a new shipment of supplies had come early. A disorganized mess of various crates and trunks, Commander Erwin nearly hit the roof before he stormed over to the supplier’s office to complain. 

The company had apparently shifted management, and the new owner thought he could cut corners. At least, that’s what you guessed. 

Levi slowly turned to Eren as you made a few frustrated scribbles in your notes. The crease in his brow deepened, and a vein above his eye twitched. 

“What are you doing just standing around, Jaeger?” Levi stepped forward, gesturing to the chaos of stacked and scattered materials across the room. “You think these big-ass boxes will grow legs and walk to storage by themselves?”

“Section Commander Zacharius sent us in here to help. He’s finishing up outside.” A bead of sweat formed on Eren’s temple. Levi stared wordlessly, scowling. “Sir!”

“You can help Jean,” you said, glancing up from your attempt at an organization sheet. You gestured over to where Jean knelt by a mountain of wooden crates. Heavy pouches and metal parts poured out of the sprawling containers. “He’ll need all the help he can get separating the flour sacks from the deconstructed ODM gear.”

Jean met Eren’s eye, exhausted and annoyed at the prospect of working with Eren on top of his menial task. Mikasa carried three boxes stacked on top of each other somewhere in the background. 

The entire regiment worked into the night. Empty crates were slapped with proper labels, refilled with the correct material, and sent to storage. The rate at which you and Levi put together a plan was astounding, and you quickly ordered your exhausted soldiers around in teams to get the job done. 

Jean and Eren worked to separate the flour sacks from the gear, moving gingerly to avoid crushing anything. Some bags were broken. Eren blew white particles off of a grip and onto Jean’s slacks. Jean scowled but was too tired to complain. The two of them took to sorting out the pieces of gear quietly, Jean placing the parts in their respective bins as Eren sifted through the mess of metal and wires. He was left with a small box of screws at the end of his work.

“Um, do we have a box for screws?”

“Screws?” Jean repeated, glancing over the closed crates. “No?”

Eren shrugged and put them in his pocket. 

You and Levi continued to work seamlessly together, racing throughout the room and ensuring everything was sorted. You passed your clipboard back and forth as you elapsed each other. Eren could hardly see the handoff. He chased after you after he closed the last crate of flour. 

“Section Commander!” you turned with a stack of random materials in your arms. The soldiers from your squads gathered around you, deliberating with each other over the orientation of the storage. “Jean and I finished. Where else can I be of assistance?” You handed your supplies to one of your team leaders, giving instructions before returning to Eren. 

“Captain Levi has the list,” you said, moving another set of boxes down to the floor. Your team took to opening them. You looked down and groaned at the sight, running a hand over your face. Inside, the supplier had packaged together explosives and yeast. “What a mess.”

Eren ran off to find Levi, who stood in the courtyard supervising the organization of horse feed. Levi gave two firm slaps to a neat assembly of boxes as he addressed a group of six. The compilation had been mislabeled as “bread grains.”

“You’ll take these to the stables. You hear me? The stables. If I see a lick of this shit in the kitchen, you’ll eat horse food for the rest of your life.” Eren approached him cautiously, offering him a salute.

“Sir! How can I be of assistance?” Levi huffed, blowing a tuff of his bangs away from his forehead. 

“I just gave the list back. Go ask the Section Commander.”

“Uh…” Eren croaked, having just spoken to you. “Well, I just spoke to—”

“Eren!” Armin appeared in the doorway out to the courtyard with a wave. The torchlight made his blond hair shine even more golden. “We need your help with the swords!” 

“There you go,” Levi snorted, gesturing down the hall where Armin disappeared. He bumped Eren’s shoulder as he passed.

Luckily, things were beginning to wrap up by the time Eren nearly dropped from exhaustion. After the swords came lentils mixed with the smoke-gun pellets and then the tangled ODM wires. You and Levi were powering on at the same pace you had been for the night— perhaps even more rigorously— but Eren could see the burnout on your faces. A rule of thumb whispered among the cadets dictated that the two of you appeared visibly grumpier with tiredness, not that anyone would dare tell you that. 

Levi maneuvered around you, snatching something you offered wordlessly in your hand. He sent off the last of the cargo boxes with a small team of drained recruits, and as he turned to you, he didn’t have to say a thing before you tossed the clipboard to him. He caught it like a frisbee. 

“That’ll do it,” you announced. Your voice echoed off the stone walls of the now-empty room. “Thank you, everyone, for your hard work. I’m sure you’re very tired. Dismissed!” 

Eren breathed a sigh of relief as you marched out of the room. He quickly took his leave, filing out with the rest of his friends as they trudged back to the barracks in exhaustion. No one said a word as they crossed through the courtyard, too drained from the expedition and the organization disaster to say anything. 

Eren stuck his hand in his pocket, stopping short when he felt the small box of screws he had put in there earlier. Armin shot him a worried look as he started back toward the packaging room, too fatigued to ask where he was going. Eren said nothing, jogging back so he could return as quickly as possible. 

You and Levi sat on the stone floor, back to back, as he read over the materials list. Your head tilted back to rest on his shoulder. He did the same, his short hairs brushing against your cheek. Two cups of tea sat on the floor next to you. That must be where you went when you dismissed everyone.

“The twenty units of ODM wire—”

“Southwestern storage with the grips,” you yawned. You closed your eyes, letting yourself slouch back into Levi. He said nothing as you nuzzled into the shoulder of his jacket.

“Updated uniforms and linens—”

“Forth floor. They need to be organized, but they can be distributed soon.”

“Great. Like we haven’t had enough of that tonight.”

Eren stood frozen in the entryway. He clutched the box of screws in his hand, stepping off to the side to avoid being seen. Something inside told him that he shouldn’t be there, that the scene in front of him was too intimate for his prying eyes. He watched on anyways, wondering if he should just wait until tomorrow. 

You finished your tea, placing it on the ground with a disappointed hum. You reached for Levi’s and took it in the pads of your fingers. Levi brushed his cheek against your hair and tilted his face to look at you. He didn’t get very far with your head in the way.

“Excuse you,” he frowned. “You have your own.”

“Finished mine,” you muttered, half asleep. Levi shook his head before returning to read the rest of the list. He flipped a page. 

At that display, Eren decided that he could definitely wait until the next day. Stealthily, he returned to the little, lit hallway to take his leave. 

That was until the little box of screws clattered to the floor. The sound reverberated off the stone, causing both you and Levi to turn to the noise. You sat up straight with eyes snapped open with alertness. Eren cringed, picking up the box, and with no choice, he revealed himself. 

“The hell are you doing up?” Levi snapped with a deep scowl. “You were just dismissed. Or do you want more work?” Eren almost flinched.

“I forgot about this.” He held up the forgotten cargo, giving it a rattle. You yawned again, a strangled noise of affirmation escaping you.

“Oh, thank you, Jaeger. You can leave that with me.” Eren scampered across the room to your outstretched hand. It dropped with the weight of the tiny container. With a simple thanks, you once again sent him on his way. 

***

“Do you think the Section Commanders are, you know, together?” Eren asked in a hushed tone at the dinner table the next day. Armin’s forehead wrinkled in thought.

“Which ones?”

“Yours and Captain Levi.” Eren played absentmindedly with the leftover stew on his plate. The entire table seemed to stiffen. A few nervous eyes glanced around the mess hall for any leadership within the radius to overhear. Eren hardly noticed the way the former members of the 104th seemed to lean forward.

“I think they’re all together,” Reiner finally spoke, eyes darting around the room again.

“What? You mean like all at once?” Bertholdt laughed nervously, swiveling his head as he spoke. He rubbed at the back of his neck with his large palm.

“Yeah!” Reiner exclaimed in a hushed tone. The table leaned closer. He gestured emphatically with his hands. “I mean, you’re in this line of work. Everyone’s ripped and sexy—”

Connie let out a roaring cackle.

“You did not just refer to Captain Levi as ripped and sexy!” 

Reiner sputtered as cheeky grins and bouts of laughter spread across the group. Reiner clutched the edge of the table as his pale skin turned a bright shade of red.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” he stammered, just about standing up to slam his hand on the table, causing various utensils to clatter. The noise was not too out of the ordinary for the cafeteria. “That’s not what I meant! I meant my squad leader!” Connie propped an elbow on the table, counting his fingers to accent his words. 

“Section Commander Levi: ripped and sexy. Section Commander Miche: ripped and sexy. Section Commander Hange—” Reiner slapped Connie’s hand from across the table, causing Connie to just about go into hysterics. He collapsed into Sasha’s shoulder. Bertholdt tugged the back of Reiner’s shirt, urging him to sit back down. 

“That is the opposite of what I meant!”

“You said everyone, Reiner!” Connie had nearly burst into tears. He heaved between labored breaths. “What— what if they…! What if they made— Hahaha! A calendar?! What if they made one of those sexy calendars?!” His deranged delirium was contagious, the taboo notion enough to make Mikasa cover her face with a shake of her head. She continued small bites of her food. 

“Shirtless Levi calendar just for you, Reiner.” He stood at a loss as Jean reached up to knock against his bicep. Reiner sat down in defeat, hands rubbing over his face as Bertholdt gave him a heavy-handed pat. 

“What made you ask, Eren?” Christa’s gentle voice somehow made it down to the other side of the table. He craned to be able to see her before looking off, wondering if he should say anything. He didn’t think for long, if at all.

“I walked in on them last night—” An eruption of astonished gasps and cries cut him off—a jumbled chorus of sounds molded over each other. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute!”

Sasha’s voice carried over everyone else’s. 

“Levi and Reiner?!” She exclaimed. Reiner somehow grew redder. 

“Of course not!”

“No, he means our captain and Levi, right Eren?” Armin clarified, and Eren nodded. 

“When you say walked in on them—” Jean glanced around the room, eyes widening with emphasis. “Did you mean walked in on?”

“No, no,” Eren stuttered, running a hand through his scalp as he thought of describing what he saw. “I’d say they were more cuddling.”

“Cuddling,” Reiner repeated with a single downward nod. He crossed his arms over his chest as he squared his shoulders back. “You walked in on the squad leaders… cuddling.”

“Well, they weren’t really cuddling. They were sitting back-to-back against each other more… nuzzling. And sharing a cup of tea.” Eren trailed off, face contorted in a pained expression as he continued to play with his hair. Armin nudged him under the table, barely picking up his head to offer him the contrite look painted on his expression. 

“Eren…”

“I think it’s kinda romantic!” Christa brushed a few hairs behind her ear. “Two soldiers fighting for their lives with no one to lean on but each other! I could see them together. Maybe Captain Levi would loosen up a bit if he was dating.” Ymir grumbled something incoherent. 

“I think we’ve all been in a room where Captain Levi’s shared a cup of tea with all the leadership.” Reiner glanced around the table, unimpressed. “Is that supposed to be a euphemism or something?”

“It was the same cup!”

“Things sure are lively over here.” Everyone froze. “What are we talking about?”

You placed a warm hand on his shoulder. Eren’s eyes followed the length of your sleeve to your smiling face. You glanced over the group, slightly taken aback at the sudden silence. Levi came up to Eren’s left with crossed arms. 

“We heard from everyone coming the other way that you couldn’t shut up, and now you decide to be quiet?” Connie met Reiner’s eye from across the table.

“The calendar,” he mouthed, and Reiner resisted the urge to throw a spoon at him. 

“We were just talking about Sasha’s dating life!” Eren exclaimed, much to Sasha’s horror. You beamed.

“Oh, how fun!” Levi rolled his eyes, maneuvering around you. 

“I’m grabbing food. You want the usual?” He leaned in slightly, a gentle touch on your back. The table watched with bated breath. You smiled and nodded.

“Yes, please!” With your confirmation, he left. You turned back to the table, your hand still on the back of Eren’s chair. “Dating! That’s so exciting! You have to tell me!” The group exchanged looks. Normally, they would tell you. That is if there was anything to tell. 

“Are you dating, Section Commander?” Sasha quirked an eyebrow, hoping to turn the heat onto someone else. 

“Oh, uh—” You stuttered, thrown off at the sudden question. You could feel the heat of their intense stares. —“No, not really.” You let out a nervous laugh. Surely you were missing something. You missed the silent eye contact Eren made with Armin.

“Not really?” Eren repeated, twisting his mug in his hands as he stared at his water. Reiner studied him, wondering that perhaps Eren had been onto something after all. Mikasa kicked Eren under the table. He flinched, composing himself just before Levi returned with your food. 

“You guys are sure acting strange tonight.” Bertholdt refused to look you in the eye. You let out another nervous chuckle before taking your plate from Levi with thanks. 

“They ran out of the rolls, but I got you the—”

“The baguette?” Your face lit up at the sight of the tiny baguette on the corner of your plate. You faced Levi with a grin. “Have I ever told you that you were the best?” 

“Sure, sure.” He didn’t acknowledge the rest of the 104th as he stormed toward the exit. You offered them a wave goodbye.

“Sorry, we can’t stick around. I’ll see you all later! Good luck, Sasha!” With one last wave, you hurried after Levi and left together. 

As soon as you were well down the hallway, the table erupted in debate.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: Ah, I love writing young Eren as the stupid little baby he is 🙏 Heavily channeling Bluey “do you have a wife?”

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman reader insert #levi #levi fanfic #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #x you #x reader #reader insert

[theragethatisdesire]

"ti penso ogni giorno" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

first fic! kind of threw this together while traveling and had no beta readers, so please be nice to me. i've been spending some time in the italian countryside and got a little inspired.

pairing: reader x eren jaeger

wc: 7.5k (jesus christ)

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut (duh), consensual hook-up, unprotected sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, princess), slight breeding kink (if you squint) crying, multiple orgasm, creampie, aftercare

**title means "i think about you every day" in italian :')

Standing on top of this mountain looking over unfamiliar fields, you don’t remember a time in the recent past you’ve felt so at peace, the quiet fluttering of the sparrows easing the ever-present ache in your heart.

It was a tasteful ceremony. A small church in the middle of the Chianti region, in a little town with a name you couldn’t pronounce, decorated with so many candles that the room was sweltering, even with the breeze wafting in from the hills. Mikasa and Jean’s little girl, Clara, had played the role of flower girl perfectly; you hadn’t seen her since she was a newborn, and there she was, toddling down the aisle on fat little three-year-old legs. Historia and Ymir were beautiful brides, practically unchanged over the years, still as consumed with each other as they had been in college.

Even now, you distinctly remember a drunken night when Ymir promised Historia that she would take her to Europe one day, and here she was, marrying her beloved blonde in the heart of Italy. Another memory surfaces, parallel to that one, of someone looping an arm around your waist as you watched college-Ymir make her declaration, a whisper in your ear of the same promise. You pack that up and tuck it away as soon as it surfaces, scratching at your elbow.

“What are you doing out here?” Mikasa’s voice is behind you, drawing closer. You smile down at Clara, holding her mother’s hand and wobbling out into the grass.

“Just thinking,” you sigh, swishing your wine around in its glass, “I should come back in and join the party.”

“They just finished the champagne toast, but you haven’t missed the first dance,” Mikasa agrees.

You take Clara’s other hand and reluctantly allow yourself to be led back into the thick of things, the two of you swinging the little girl between you. Her shrieks of joy make you smile in spite of yourself, calming the nerves fluttering around in your stomach. Years had passed and things had changed, you and everyone else around you included.

It was a gorgeous reception, even more beautiful than the ceremony. They’d chosen a huge stone patio outside of the massive villa they’d rented, covered by columns of stone arching up to form a roof and dripping with flowered vines. It was exactly what you would’ve chosen, so beautiful it didn’t need decoration. Simple, natural, Tuscan.

“He didn’t bring a date,” Mikasa murmurs to you as you enter the terrace, scanning the room for Jean. She didn’t need to specify who “he” was; you had seen him at the ceremony, longer hair than you remembered, two rows ahead of you. Even if you hadn’t, the sad truth was there was really only one “he” for you, and Mikasa knew that.

“What do you want me to do with that?” You respond, trying and failing to mask your discomfiture with irritation.

“Whatever you want,” Mikasa shrugs, vague as always, scooping Clara up onto her hip and striding across the tented reception to Jean. You watch her go, watch Jean take Clara and kiss Mikasa, envy and self-pity clawing at your heart.

Ymir and Historia chose a slower song than you expected; it must be Historia’s doing that they were doing a first dance at all. Ymir had made it exceptionally clear during the bachelorette trip that all of the frills were to make Historia happy, and she was mostly looking forward to the honeymoon. The memory makes you snort into your empty wine glass, until you catch a glimpse of green eyes across the room.

Eren’s suit is more expensive than anything you knew he owned, sharp at the corners and resembling something your boss’ boss would wear. Mikasa had mentioned months ago that Eren and Zeke’s business was really taking off, but you find yourself wondering if these were the clothes he wore now, or if it was a splurge. He’s staring at you, no surprise there. Breakup aside, Eren’s the most possessive person you’ve ever known, and anything that was his is always his, at least from his point of view. That was part of the problem, you reflect, tracing your red fingernail around the rim of your wine glass.

The first dance concludes and amidst the applause, waiters begin circling the room with hors d'oeuvres, little bits of smoked salmon and crudite platters. After the travel and ceremony, you’re ravenous, and you begin weaving your way through the crowd to track down a tray with carbohydrates on it.

You’re halfway through stuffing a croquette into your mouth when Armin interrupts you, chuckling. “Hungry?”

“I only flew over this morning,” you excuse yourself, dabbing at your mouth with a cocktail napkin. Armin doesn’t care, you know that, but after the last few years of cocktail hours with the most influential magazine and website owners in the world, manners are second-nature.

“At least it was a short flight. You came from…Belgium?”

“Moscow,” you shrug, “four hour flight into Milan, two hour train, hour long car service.”

“Car service?” Armin cocks an eyebrow. “Haven’t you gotten fancy over the years?”

You blush, embarrassed. “Did you fly from the states?”

“Shanghai, actually.” Armin’s face shows it, still puffy from the flight. “I don’t even know how many hours, just that it was long.”

“I’ve made that flight,” you say, empathizing, “not a fun one.”

“I was able to throw some miles from my company card into it and get first class, though, it was the nicest-”

“Can I join you two?” Your heart drops. You knew he was watching you, he’s always watching you, but to be so bold as to interrupt a conversation, speak to you here? Now?

“Sure, Eren,” Armin steps to the side to make room for Eren at the high-top table you’ve found yourselves gathering around, “we were just catching up on our flights over.”

Eren nods, masterfully collected as he smiles politely at you. “I actually had business over here, so I left New York maybe…a week ago, now? It wasn’t bad at all, our company card covers first-class flights.”

Some strange mix of annoyance and being impressed swells in your throat. You take a swig of wine to swallow it, not trusting yourself to resist throwing out a snarky comment or alternatively inquiring about where this first-class-covering business card came from. You don’t owe him the satisfaction. Armin nods politely, but you can see the tension in his smile. The history between Eren and you could stretch for miles of scorched earth, and it’s no secret. You imagine that earth, black and smoking, half-finished houses with white picket fences smoldering down to their foundations.

“So,” Eren breaks the silence, turning to you, “where did you come in from?”

“Moscow.” One-word answers, minimal detail, you assure yourself in your head. He won’t get his claws in you this time if you don’t let him.

“Moscow is beautiful,” Eren sips the bourbon that you had considered throwing in his face when he approached, “but a little cold this time of year, isn’t it?”

“It was very nice, actually,” you can’t help disagreeing for the sake of it, “I was only in town for a few days covering a story, anyway.” Shit. You’ve betrayed yourself already and revealed a detail. Eren’s smile curls up over his cheeks like a cat that’s found a trapped mouse. You kick yourself inwardly.

“Hear that, Armin? Our little bookworm is still writing.”

You roll your eyes at the old nickname from college, earned by your constant pleas to stay in for a comfy night instead of a frat party. You had read over 350 books in college, breaking your four-year goal by at least fifty. Eren used to beg you to tell him the stories you read before bed like a child, because he couldn’t be bothered to read the actual book and it sounds so much more interesting when you read it, baby. And up until the last three years, you had obliged him. Now, the only person you read to sleep is yourself.

“I made a career out of it,” you snip, “so yes, still writing.”

“Clara’s getting into the wedding cake- I don’t see Mikasa, shit, one sec-” Armin’s sentence is cut short by the speed with which he darts away from the pair of you, running off towards a table on the other side of the room. You don’t necessarily blame him, but you seethe anyway, vowing to repay him for abandoning you.

“Career, hm?” Eren hums pleasantly. “Work’s going well, then?”

You snatch a second glass of wine off of a passing tray, wanting more than anything to walk away from him, but you both know your feet won’t move. Getting a nice buzz going is your only option, at this point. You take a healthy swig, shrugging. “I enjoy it, and it pays.” 

“That’s a beautiful dress,” Eren murmurs, quiet and thoughtful. You blush and frown all at once.

“Says the one wearing a $6,000 suit.”

“Is it?” Eren fingers his lapel. He looks amused, and you want to smack the faux-bashfulness right off of his face. “I honestly didn’t know.”

“Your work must be going exceedingly well, then,” you glare, seeing right through him. The facade falters for just a moment, a critical moment: Eren almost looks sad.

“The business took off about a year ago,” he’s not looking at you, focusing on something in the distance, “so I’m traveling almost constantly now. I hardly see Zeke, my only company is usually just my assistant or a flight attendant. I love visiting a new city every week, but it’s…”

“Lonely?” You finish for him before you can stop yourself. He nods, looking surprised.

“Your work keeps you on the go now, too?”

“I switched over to a rolling travel schedule two years ago, when Rolling Stone started their global music column. It ended up being super popular and I’m the lead journalist, so I’m basically running all over the world listening to the weirdest music you can imagine. They had me head over to Berlin one time to cover the ‘rising alien punk scene’; it was…really something.” You pull a funny face at the memory, Eren laughs, a deep, real laugh from the belly. You can hear yourself rambling, revealing, but you can’t stop. It’s so natural that the realization of falling back into yourself, the self that loved Eren, is making your skin crawl. You should walk away, look for an out-

“Have you explored the grounds at all?”

Eren’s question snaps you out of your moment of clarity, back into his magnetic field. “The grounds?”

“This house,” Eren gestures to the villa that Ymir and Historia have rented for their closest friends, “sits on over a thousand acres of vineyard. The best wine in the world.”

“I can tell,” you examine the legs on your glass of red, provided by the vineyard itself, “it’s not my usual French, but it’s incredible.”

“Snob,” Eren grins at you. You have always been a picky wine drinker, Eren used to joke that you could pass a sommelier test without even taking the course. “So, the grounds?”

He offers you an elbow. You look at it, weighing but not really weighing your options, and slip your arm through his, feeling the rapid thudding of your pulse. You’re fairly sure if anyone looked closely at your neck, they’d see the frantic heartbeat insistently pushing right under your skin. You tell yourself it will only be a short walk, just a few minutes, because you do want to see the grounds, even if it’s with the last person you should be spending any time with. You hope that you’ll be able to sneak out without catching Mikasa’s eye.

Eren tugs you along, prattling on about the history of the vineyard, entirely unaware that you’re not listening. This Eren is so different from the Eren you left in New York, but still similar, still feels like home. His nose and jaw have only grown stronger with age, but his eyes still have a youthful glimmer, even if they seem sharper and more intense than you’ve ever seen them. It’s unlikely that he’s physically grown even taller between 23 and 26, but his presence makes him seem like the tallest man in the room. He’s self assured, confident, and in charge, in a manlier, more mature way that you’ve never seen before. A heat simmers in your stomach as you admire the curve of his strong neck, and you want to swat your own hand, tell yourself to settle down. It’s just a walk.

“I think I could die happy here,” Eren says, looking over the view you’ve approached, about a half mile from the rest of the party now. You chuckle.

“A beautiful view and some good wine is all it takes?”

“That’s most of it, these days,” Eren shrugs, “but I do need cable. And-”

“A television, a gym, at least one case of shitty domestic beer in the house at all times,” you count off on your fingers.

“For starters,” Eren concedes with a shy grin. “And a wife.”

Those last two words cause your heart to stop altogether. You look around, realizing just how far you are from the villa, how alone you are with him. The sun is setting reluctantly around you both, sinking slowly, holding onto the landscape with an iron grip.

“That would be nice,” you stammer, “f-for you, definitely.”

“Want to explore this building over here?” As if nothing out of the ordinary happened, Eren points out a smaller home down the hill from you both. “It’s really cool inside.”

You trudge along beside him, having kicked off your heels and left them at the reception long ago, and a fresh wave of anger kicks up in your chest. It was just so quintessentially Eren; drop a bomb, and then act like nothing happened. It reminds you that there are aspects of Eren you can’t stand, and that reminder instills you with the confidence to seclude yourself with him in the charming little stone house.

It is really cool. No window panes in the entire bottom floor, just the fresh vineyard air rolling in. There’s a little kitchenette, some various odds and ends of sofas and chairs sprawling across the clay-bricked floors. A huge table, clearly made for workers’ lunch breaks over the centuries, squats in the middle of the bottom floor, and racks of wine cover the walls. You break away from him to pick up a bottle or two, examine the label, brush off some dust.

Eren grants you a few moments to yourself before you sense him behind you, closer than you want to consider.

“Anything good?” He says, peering right over your shoulder from the sound of it.

You turn around before you can regret it, chest to chest with him. He’s hunching his head to make the best eye contact with you he can, the way he’s always done. You focus on breathing normally, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how his proximity still affects you after all these years. “A ‘92 vintage Chianti. They actually talked about this wine in my sommelier course; I didn’t even realize this was the same vineyard.”

“You took the course?” Eren smiles crookedly, an endearing grin that you’ve always loved. You smile despite yourself.

“Yeah,” you admit quietly, “I took the course.”

Eren grins wider, and thankfully leaves you there, striding across the room to shuffle through the kitchen drawers. When he returns, he’s holding a wine key and two glasses. You cock your head, confused.

“It’s supposed to be the best, huh? Crack it open.”

“Eren…” you trail off, holding the bottle gingerly, “this bottle has to be over a thousand dollars. We can’t do it.”

“Did I forget to mention this is my bunk for the trip?” He smiles again, his prominent canines glinting in the sunset light streaming in, gesturing around the room grandly; your knees nearly buckle at the sight. “Bedroom’s upstairs. Ymir and Historia said any of the wine’s up for grabs. It’s the owners’ fault if they left the good stuff out for us to get into, and it’s on my tab anyway.”

You’re nearly speechless, not only that Eren got an entire house to himself (he’s always been the spoiled brat of the friend group), but that he tricked you into coming here, with him. When you fail to respond, he takes it simply as more reluctance to open the bottle, and he grabs the bottle from you and starts to dig the corkscrew in through the top.

You let a few beats pass, considering your options as he pours the wine. When he finally hands you the glass, you give voice to your thoughts, testing the waters. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because you love wine and the house is cool,” Eren shrugs innocently, taking a sip, “damn, that’s good. Try it.”

You hold your glass stock-still in your hands. “We’re done with…what we used to do, you know. That’s not what’s going on here.”

The air sparkles with dust; Eren’s demeanor stutters, a small frown working its way onto his face. “Just try the wine, babe.”

Your heart flutters, your stomach sinks, your memories with Eren shriek from the back of your mind. The pet name is too familiar, too easy, and it brings a cold chill over you. As you’re prone to do, your panic comes shooting out coated in snark.“Babe? Yeah, no, I’m done-”

“Sorry, sorry– it was a mistake, force of habit,” Eren’s already apologizing as you’re talking; you hate how he can still anticipate your reaction before you can give it. He grabs your wrist as you turn to leave, rolling his eyes, “a mistake. Try your wine, you don’t know when you’re going to stumble across that again.”

You let him hold your wrist, enjoying the pressure of his strong hands into the delicate flesh of your arm despite yourself. You look between him, the wine, the room several times, as if you’re weighing your decision. You know what you’re going to choose, but maybe you can pretend that he doesn’t know, too. Eren’s willing to play along, eyes wide and pleading.

Without breaking your gaze, you carefully taste the wine. Damn him, it is good. It has a complexity of flavor and a depth to it that’s incredibly rare, even in the French countryside wines you tend to favor. Even though you fight it, you smile at him and offer your glass for him to pour more.

The bottle passes quickly, both of you settling yourselves in chairs at the kitchen table, discussing old friends, new friends, reminiscing on the college years when you were both a little happier and a little less sane. You hardly notice the sun setting further, the smallest bits of twilight leaking into the corners of the sky.

“Your teeth are so red,” you giggle, head spinning. The wine was delicious, delicious enough for Eren to pop open a second bottle, but God, was it strong. You aren’t sure how you’ll manage the walk back up to the reception- is the reception even still going on?

“So are yours,” Eren pinches your cheek, giggling drunkenly along with you.

“God, you’re right.” You place a finger onto your teeth, rubbing frantically at the wine stains to no avail. Eren reaches a wobbling hand out to pull your fingers out of your mouth, shaking his head. He frowns and shakes his head, childlike.

“Don’t take them off.”

“The wine stains?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? They make teeth look dirty,” you laugh again, trying to shove your finger back into your mouth where Eren’s holding it.

“I…okay, maybe it’s weird, but I always thought it was kind of sexy when your teeth were all red from wine,” Eren blushes, and it’s so childishly endearing that you can feel your heart swell.

“Really?”

“I never told you that?” Eren looks astonished, chuckling under his breath. “It drove me crazy back when we were together. You’d go to Historia’s, or Sasha’s, or whoever’s and down a bottle or two of red and come stumbling back into that crappy apartment in Harlem-”

“-the one with the mean bodega lady outside!”

“Yes!” Eren snaps his fingers, pointing at you excitedly. “Anyway, you’d come waddling back in, hair a mess and wine all over your teeth, your lips would be bright purple, and you’d always be so horny-”

“Eren!”

“It’s true! You’d ride me for an hour before you knocked out.” Eren sipped his wine, smiling in a private way that you felt was just for you.

“An hour seems like a bit of a stretch,” you murmur, looking down into your glass. You’ve almost finished your wine and you shouldn’t have any more, the reception is waiting for you and you’ve been gone with Eren long enough that you’ve been missed at this point. When you pull your head up, Eren looks different. It’s a familiar face on a new man: his eyes have a mischievous glimmer in them, the sunset winking at you through his green irises.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips; your mind wanders to that tongue, those lips. Mentally, you dance over what you know those lips and tongue can do, how they feel on your mouth, your neck, between your legs. Your wine-addled mind tries to shake the persistent thought. Eren reaches a hand over to your mouth, absentmindedly rubbing a thumb over the corner of your lips.

“Still think it looks sexy,” he mumbles, half-drunk and half expecting a stern reprimand from you. His eyes search your face, curious of your reaction. It’s the moment you’ve been running around the world from for the last three years, finally coming to fruition here in this little house. 

You embarrass and surprise yourself simultaneously: tears well in your eyes. You want him; you’re drunk and beautiful and desperate for him in the beautiful countryside of Italy, but he’s so bad for you. They’re tears that have been waiting behind your eyes, tears of frustration and desire.

“Why are you crying?” Eren asks, furrowing his brow. You know he knows, he understands you and your emotions better than anyone. You’re angry with him, angry that he knows the source of your tears before you open your mouth.

“We’re done, Eren,” you fail miserably to steel your voice, “we can’t do this anymore, remember? It’s not good for us.”

“It’s been three years, baby,” Eren responds, still rubbing his thumb over your lips, “three years of growing. We’re different now– I’m different.”

“No,” you sniffle, feeling like a child. Whether he’s changed or not is still up for debate, but your sore heart can only take so much. He’s so beautiful, soaked in sun and wine and temptation, simpering at you. Your resolve is weakening by the second.

“Yes,” Eren insists, “it’s me. You belong to me, you know you do.”

“Eren–”

“You always do this, always try to run from me, but I’ll always find you,” he murmurs, “I’ll go to every corner of the earth if I need to. I’ll always find you because you’re mine.”

You’d love to say that he leaned in, he grabbed your face and pulled you to him, but you’d be lying. It’s you who leans forward ever so slightly, catching your chapped lips in his and kissing him tentatively. You wouldn’t be lying if you told anyone that he sighed into your mouth, ready to feel your body under his hands again. You wouldn’t be lying in the slightest.

Eren allows you a few tentative kisses, a few pecks against his lips, familiar and new all the same. Once you’ve had your fill of shyness, your obligatory ruse of unassuredness, he reaches for you, scooping you into his lap. You straddle him, whimpering at the friction of his already-growing bulge against your clothed cunt. He has to push your dress up to allow you room to spread your legs over him; you’re wearing a slinky little silk number, a gorgeous deep brown against your tanned skin, but not cooperative for lap-sitting.

Eren’s tongue is practically down your throat, teeth nipping at your bottom lip when you have to pull away for air, hands roaming your now-bare thighs.

“This dress,” he pants between kisses, “is so fucking perfect on you. Look so good for me.”

You sigh into his mouth, running your hands through his hair. Off to the side of your mind, you realize you may have knocked his hair out of its bun, but the dark locks feel so soft in your fingers, you can’t bring yourself to apologize for it. He’s wrapping his hands around your ass; Eren always loved your full hips, and it seems that that fact hasn’t changed.

Your hands find their way to his neck, his shoulders, his chest. He’s grown stronger over the years, definitive muscles rippling under your fingers, but the broadness he’s always possessed is still there. He’s large compared to you, twice as wide and at least a head taller, and you loathe to admit it, but it turns you on. You love the way he manhandles you, the way he pushes and pulls you exactly how he wants you, the way he grabs your hips hard enough to bruise, rocking them against his own.

A particularly well-placed thrust of his hips against yours elicits a wanton groan from you, spilling into his mouth. Eren moans back, moving away from your lips to mouth his way down your throat.

“Gonna sit you up now, okay?”

He stands, knocking the chairs aside on his way up, to set you on the table, the perfect height for him to grope at you, pull your dress this way and that.

“Wanna get this thing off, will you let me?”

You hesitate, or try to, at least. His hands are dizzying, flying all over your body and squeezing at just the right spots as he nibbles on your earlobe. “But, the reception–”

“Sh, sh, sh. We’re so far away, baby, they’ll never even know, yeah?” Eren goads you and you’re putty in his hands, the rapidly-shrinking rational part of your brain growing quieter with each kiss, each pet. He manages to wrench your dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but a stringy pair of panties. Eren steps back to look over you; you resist the urge to cover yourself. You know his routine.

“Fuck,” Eren breathes, palming your tits, “you’re perfect, do you know that? So beautiful just for me, aren’t you?”

You flush pink from your chest to your forehead. Even after years of love and war and running, his bedroom talk still gets to you. Eren loves to tell you what he thinks of you, and you’ve never managed to grow accustomed to hearing it.

“Say it.”

“Hm?” You hum, preoccupied with his mouth pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses around your breasts, even pausing to suck a bruise into the side of your left.

“Say you’re beautiful, tell me how pretty you are for me.”

This part is new; Eren has always loved to talk to you in bed, but your participation in the dirty talk has been minimal until now. Your blush grows even deeper. “I’m beautiful, beautiful just for you.”

“Good girl,” Eren purrs, allowing you to pull his head closer to your chest. His tongue swirls around one nipple. He closes his lips around it, sucking hard, and you moan openly, pulling him closer. Eren grins, letting his teeth pinch down on it. “You still like when I play with your tits, hm?”

“Yes,” you hiss, too caught up in pleasure to address his smugness.

“Know you baby, know you inside and out. These tits are mine,” a hand wanders down to your cunt, swiping across your panties and feeling the wetness that soaks them, “and this pussy’s mine too. You might not love me anymore, but your body– oh, she loves me.”

You have no way to respond to that, no way to address what those words do to your brain. Chagrin as you might be to admit it, he’s right. Eren was your first and only adult relationship, fucking your body into submission for years and training it, training your cunt to respond to him and the way he liked to touch you. He’s pushed and prodded you into his perfect little fuckdoll, and you let him and you loved it. You loved every second of it, and god does it feel good rushing back to you now, finally under his hands again after years without.

Eren nudges your panties to the side, rubbing quick circles over your clit, just the way you like it. A long, heady whine leaks from your lips, your hips urgently roll towards him.

“Missed me? Is that it?” Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smug grin on his lips. Eren loves when you’re needy for him.

“Mhm,” you indulge him in the hopes you’ll get what you want, and you’re right. A long finger sinks into you, instantly curling to press into the spongy spot within your walls that has you swooning, clutching desperately onto his shoulders.

“That’s it, feels good doesn’t it?”

You pull at his suit jacket, fumbling with the buttons on his collared shirt. “Want it off, want to see you.”

Eren relents, pulling his hand from you to step back and strip his shirt and jacket. He is as muscular as he feels; you drag your eyes over his strong chest, his defined abs, and the deep V leading down below his belt. You briefly remember all of your post-college friends, girls that had never known Eren, teasing you that he was your hottest ex. You had blushed, but you understand. He’s like a Greek statue, glistening with sweat from the evening heat, every crevice of him on display just for you. It sends a fresh wave of heat pulsing through your body, and you pull him back to you, relishing in the feel of his hands on you.

“Want me to make you cum, is that it?” Eren’s amused, sinking two fingers into your heat. You croon, nodding desperately. He chuckles, moving his fingers against the spot inside of you. “I’ve got you, don’t worry baby. Gonna make you feel good.”

You nod again into his shoulder, attached to him wherever you can find the space, grasping his body and pulling it to yours. You wish you had the capacity to be ashamed of your need, laid bare for him to see, but you don’t. All you can think about is his fingers moving in you, gaining speed and bringing you closer to an embarrassingly fast orgasm.

He slides a third in, just to be safe, and you’re so wet that your pussy accepts it willingly. The stretch makes you pout, push at his chest. “Too much, Eren–”

“Gotta get you ready for me,” he huffs, his arousal getting the better of him, “get you ready to get fucked. Cunt’s tight after all these years, isn’t it? Gotta work it open.”

That does a lot to your hazy brain; you bite deep into his shoulder, moans coming faster and louder as he works his fingers in you. The bubble is building in the pit of your stomach, your hips are canting towards him.

“Eren, Eren I–”

“I know, I know,” he coos, fingers curling inside you even faster, “my girl needs to cum, doesn’t she? You want to cum all over my fingers, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you cry into his skin, biting and moaning alternatively. Your head’s spinning; you can’t remember the last time you felt this good. You’re no nun, not by any means, but Eren knows your body, crafted it to respond to him, to his hands and mouth and cock, and your body is rejoicing at the feel of him on and in you again. You can’t hold it, you know you can’t, you’re moments away now. “Eren, I’m going to cum, I’m gonna–”

“Do it, baby,” he growls into your ear, his fingers working even faster, thumb moving up to swipe at your clit, “give it to me, want to hear you cum.”

Your body convulses and you’re cumming hard, with Eren the first one of the night always goes that way. Eren knows it, pulls you close against him and works his fingers in you, helping you ride it out. He’s practically purring into your ear, telling you what a good girl you are, cumming all over his fingers like that, and you eat it up. You cry into his flesh where it’s secured between your teeth, rocking your hips into his hand desperately.

Your orgasm begins to fade, and you find the presence of mind to shove at his fingers, begging for a reprieve. “Give me your cock, want it in my mouth.”

“Is that what you need?” Eren’s already helping you onto your knees, gentle, but needy. “Need my cock in your mouth?”

“Please,” you say eagerly, adjusting your knees to a comfortable position on the dirt floor, easily unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his legs. He steps out of his shoes, kicking his pants off, strong thighs twitching under your nails as you softly scratch down them. A groan rumbles in Eren’s chest at your enthusiasm, he places a hand on your head, running through your curls.

“Can’t be for too long, ‘kay?” Eren pants, hissing when you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock. “Still gotta fuck you, feel you cum on me.”

You hum your approval, popping him fully into your mouth with a satisfied moan. You’ve always loved taking him in your mouth, the comforting weight of him on your tongue. You’re getting impossibly wetter, feeling the heat gather between your legs as you bob your head up and down on him, listening to his satisfied little grunts and groans above you.

Eren rubs a hand over your cheek, mutters his approval, thrusts his hips forwards unwittingly a few times. You gag when he does, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’ve taken him like this so many times, even with his impressive size, you love the feel of him pressing back into your throat until you choke.

“Fuck, fuck, baby it’s– it’s too much,” Eren indulges in a few more thrusts into your throat before grabbing your hair and urging you off of him, “need your pussy, okay?”

You’re not going to argue with that, letting him pull you to your feet, an anticipatory smile cracking across your face. You’re drunk on the wine and sex and him, babbling nonsensically. “Wanna feel you, Eren, need you.”

“I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good, princess.” Impressively, Eren scoops you off of the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walks you both over to the wall, pressing you up against it. “Gonna make you mine all over again, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

It’s a loaded question, but you’re so captivated by him, all you can do is murmur your agreement, tell him you want to be his because at least for now, you do. Eren’s magnetic, the man you run from so you don’t get lost in him, but tonight, you’re willing to drown. You’re begging for it.

The stone wall is rough against your bare back, but the head of Eren’s cock rubbing through your folds distracts you, a promise of what’s to come.

“Please, please put it in, Eren, I need–”

“My girl needs to be full, doesn’t she?” Eren’s smirking at you, slipping the tip of his cock in. Even the stretch of that alone is enough to make you moan, digging your nails into his back. “There you go, gonna fill you up, make you all better.”

You nod into his shoulder, the weight of your actions catching up to you as he presses himself into you, fills you entirely. Eren’s your kryptonite, he’s a drug, he’s an overwhelming presence, you can’t think straight around him. Before coming to this wedding, you told yourself you’d stay away, but you can’t help it. Everything about him is like he’s sculpted just for you, your body yields to him so easily you think you might be made just for him too. His skin, salty and sweaty from the summer air, is delicious under your tongue.

He’s moving now, fucking up into you desperately, like he loves you and like he wants to break you. You jolt in his arms, helpless to do anything but take and take and take everything he has to give you.

He smiles against your open mouth, placing a sloppy kiss over it. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so fucking good,” you whimper, letting him manhandle you. Eren’s always rough with you, always riding the line of too much, and you love taking it. You love letting him push you to your limits.

“Missed my cock in you, didn’t you? This cunt was made for me,” Eren huffs, “made just for me. Mine, isn’t it?”

You don’t indulge him with an answer, loathe to admit that your cunt is made for him, but you feel yourself clench down around him, more of your wetness soaking his lower stomach. Eren chokes out some mix of a moan and a breathless laugh, fucking up into you harder. “What a perfect answer, baby. You love it, I know you do.”

“I love it,” you agree, simpering against him as your willpower fizzles out to nothing. You’re reluctant to believe it, but there’s another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. Your body responds to him in a way it responds to no one else, clinging to him and growing wet for him and tightening around him.

Eren’s digging his hands into your hips, moving you up and down on his cock more so than actually thrusting. He’s panting against your ear, hot and heavy and in tune with your own gasps. He nudges his mouth down to plant sloppy kisses around your shoulder, just at the crook of your neck in the sensitive spot that he knows you love, remembers even after all these years. 

“Been too fucking long, baby,” Eren says, “gonna cum soon.”

You nod into his neck, cunt tightening around him at the prospect of his cum inside you. Just the thought of it sends your mind into orbit; a little fantasy forms in your hazy head of him fucking you like this every night, like he used to, a child with your curls and deep, green eyes-

“Gonna let me cum in this perfect cunt, aren’t you?”

As usual, Eren’s right in line with you– the synchronicity makes you moan again. “Please, please–”

“Gotta cum with me, alright? You can do that for me, can’t you?” You can, you will, but you’re so close to the edge when you try to respond your words are jumbled together. Even so close to his own release, Eren snickers at you. “My sweet girl’s all fucked out, can’t even talk.”

“Need your cum,” you manage, “please, Eren, m’close.”

Years ago, through strenuous games of overstimulation and denial, Eren trained your body to wait for him, you can’t cum unless he does and you know it. Your only option is to beg, hot shame warming your face. Eren remembers, just like you do, it makes him grin, feral and dangerous in the early evening light.

“Need my cum, baby? Needy, so needy, so beautiful,” he’s starting to slur, you know he’ll finish soon, “gonna cum in this perfect cunt of yours, never let you keep it from me again. Maybe I’ll knock you up, hm? Can’t run from me with my baby in you.”

Your watery eyes fly open at that, the logical part of your brain long-quieted, and you moan loud for him again, just the way he likes. Eren’s thrusts have grown sloppy, he’s grabbing you so hard now you know you’ll be left with Eren-shaped bruises on your hips.

Eren finally cums in you with your name on his lips, long and deep, keeping his cock fully seated inside you. It triggers your orgasm, a toe-curling wave of pleasure coursing through your body, straining your sore muscles. Eren’s mouth is pressed against yours and all you can manage is a whimper, feeling his cum warm your pussy, leak out around from where you’re both still joined together.

All the energy’s been pulled from your body now; you slump against his shoulder and whine when he slides out of you. Eren places you gently on the floor, presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before leading you upstairs on shaking legs. It smells like Eren up here, the pricey cologne he favors and the scent of well-loved sweatshirts intoxicating you. There are no words between the two of you as he leads you to the bathroom, helping you sit on the toilet seat as Eren rummages around for a washcloth to clean you.

“We need to go back to the reception,” you say weakly, wincing as Eren rubs the cloth over your cunt.

“What do you think?”

You frown, confused. “About?”

“Us, again,” he’s avoiding your eyes, focusing on his work between your legs. You’re not surprised he waited until you were disarmed to ask, brain still muddled and dizzy.

“Eren–”

“I am different now,” he finally meets your eyes, gaze alight with the burning, too-hot-to-touch love you know so well, the only love Eren knows how to offer, “got a therapist like you were always asking me to. I meditate every day. I’ll be so good to you, you know how good I am.”

He is good to you, you remember it well, your own tendency to flee was what broke you up in the first place. You’d left his heart shattered on the sidewalk of your apartment back in New York City, overwhelmed with commitment and unwilling to give his flaws the same grace he gave yours. You’re opposites: he’s hot where you’re cool, angry where you’re distant, argumentative where you’re cold. You sigh, head feeling heavy on your shoulders.

“Do you know what you’re asking of me? What about the lives we have now?”

“We’d make it work, line our schedules up together” the corner of his mouth curls, you want to kiss him again, “we’re always able to figure something out.”

You hate yourself for it, you want to run from him, get a car to the airport right now. You also want to pull him into your arms, feel his heartbeat against yours, kiss that hesitant smile on his face and never stop. “I…can I sleep on it?”

Eren’s face lights up, a kid on Christmas morning. He’s always been so expressive in these quiet moments; unreadable in a crowded room, but when it’s just you and him, his heart’s always been on his sleeve. He can’t help it. “Yeah, just sleep on it.”

You get yourself as put-together as you can, wipe the mascara from under your eyes, slip the dress back over your shoulders and concede one more kiss to Eren. It’s slow, long and languid, tongues slipping over one another, the desperation now cooled into a sense of homecoming. 

You hold hands as you climb the hill back to the reception. Your knees wobble, and it makes Eren laugh, makes you blush. He’s still going on about the villa’s history, and you’re half-listening, admiring the stars above you both. The reception is still going on, albeit a bit more subdued than earlier. Some guests have trickled out, finding their beds, but your friends are still seated around a table, drunk and laughing.

Connie’s the worst, of course, leaning on Jean and regaling everyone with a tale about their Midwestern childhood together; Mikasa’s buried under Clara, who’s sleeping soundly in her lap; Ymir and Historia are alternating between listening and kissing one another; Sasha’s struggling with a corkscrew and a tricky wine bottle, Armin attempting to help her.

Your face warms as all eyes turn to you, rumpled and suspicious and late. Mikasa raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her face.

“Where have you two been? You missed the garter toss,” Ymir nudges Historia conspiratorially.

“Just touring the grounds,” Eren answers coolly, pulling the empty chair beside Mikasa and offering it to you. You sit, grateful to be off of your shaking legs.

“It’s so beautiful here, thanks for putting us all up…” you accept the glass of wine Armin is offering over your shoulder, tipping it in the happy couples’ direction. Historia murmurs a quiet ‘you’re welcome’, the entire table exchanging knowing glances. You scowl, being left out of a joke is one of your pet peeves. “What?”

Jean grins lewdly. “Nothing, just…I don’t think Eren’s room is as far from the main house as you two think it is.”

#eren jeager #eren jaeger #aot smut #attack on titan #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren jeager x you #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #aot fic #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fic #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan fanfic #aot x reader #eren aot #eren jeager smut #smut #eren smut #eren jaeger smut

[jeanbie]

IF I LAY HERE (WOULD YOU LIE WITH ME?) ★ masterlist.

pairing: eren x reader

genre: best friends-to-lovers-au, actor au, fluff mostly | warnings: fem!reader | wc: 2.6k

note: hey. i still love u guys and i am still pining over aot. will never stop probably. anyway, this was an older fic i wrote but i'm handing it down to eren! title is taken/inspired from chasing cars by snow patrol (my fav song)

⏤ Eren has had enough - it's been four months since he's last seen you, and he's not going to let his fame status keep him from seeing you any longer. He just hopes that you feel the same way when you see him again.

Eren was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that.

It was risky taking any step out of his apartment at any moment; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the bushes in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame. 

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse now that he'd booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Eren takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face.

For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the actor from Attack on Titan who didn’t give a damn about the people who essentially made him and his friends famous.

But Eren thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in a different country, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures.

You were at university now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally saw every day months before. It had been four months since Eren had seen his best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.”

Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses resting on the end of his roundish nose. He led Eren out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Eren smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Eren. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road waiting to cross, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Eren's still playing that sentence on a loop in his head. She's gonna freak out when she sees you.

He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. He’s missed it here, and how unbelievably, shockingly awful it all looks when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of it online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Eren says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only really became a super fan three months ago. I'm more into Levi, you know how it goes. And yeah, I figured it out eventually. Finally, I understood why so many people at this uni wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Eren frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy online when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Eren as the words die out in his mouth.

“Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours…it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Eren feels his stomach flip, butterflies going haywire. These butterflies are bitter and relentlessly fast, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Eren is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister.

You’ve never been his sister, even when you became part of his family growing up on special occasions, or even just on a daily basis when you came to visit. There were times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different than that; you both knew it but never dared acknowledge it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice and tall, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Eren remembers looks a lot like your dad’s back in the day. Might be the same kind, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Eren, but then the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here - he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.”

He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were seventeen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep a secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left whereas Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the market, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Eren manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down.

As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person - white walls and a bed set that’s white and covered with little peonies. Above your desk, Eren recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at university who Eren always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his head against the wall your bed is attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the song playing in the bathroom ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Eren hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race.

Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and… And, then what?

Maybe you wouldn't even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Eren was travelling the world with his other friends and film crew while you were still here, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Eren was burdensome to you. Worse - maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

Eren's always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Eren feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be able to give you, even with all the money and the fame.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Jesus, Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Eren teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause, and Eren cocks his head, his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him.

Suddenly, he hears small but quick thuds across the carpet and Eren feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling when you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Eren's eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape at his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Eren absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Eren feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Eren rises up to a more comfortable position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when Eren wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck.

Eren smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow body wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds him of Cabbage Patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jet lag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jet lag, Eren realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming. 

Eren kisses behind your earlobe, and then just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Eren was always a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this.

You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Eren feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8.

Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop - it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid’s bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the dazed confusion on your face as he moves the hair from across your face to around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but… Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean…the guys know I’m here. Jean drove me to the airport with Armin.”

“That’s not what I mean, though.”

Eren sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. It's only a few. Most are really nice!”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by--”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. You frown and try to change the subject, “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“I've been growing it out,” Eren replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Eren dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Eren's underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle.

The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Eren even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you, half as a joke, half not. That could be why Eren feels the way that he does, why the confusion wraps around his body and traps him.

Eren knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Eren knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. EREN YEAGER GOES TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND…BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT A.O.T EREN IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s why he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Eren might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, if all those years of confused relations and flirtations meant anything, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant being able to spend one more day with you.

Eren's got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to filming with more regrets than he came here with, and so for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth.

Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be said on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Eren doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. You hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease, then you didn’t mention it. He almost wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy being here.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it 'til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and until then, he’ll just have to be patient, even if it breaks his heart more by pretending.

#eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #attack on titan #aot #eren fanfic #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot imagine #snk imagine #ittojean #eren actor au #aot actor au #jeanbie

[mayajadewrites]

Moth to a Flame: Levi Ackerman x Fem Reader

C H A P T E R N I N E: B L A C K L A C E

chapter synopsis: Reader makes her decision, and wonders what the future holds for her and Levi.

smut ahead: vaginal sex, rough sex

ao3

"If you want me to leave you alone forever, I will. Walk out that door and I'll do just that."

You stood in the doorway of Levi's office, frozen. His words felt like daggers in your heart. You've waited months, that felt like years for him to acknowledge the love you shared.

Without turning around, you made sure the door was locked. Levi was sitting in his chair, leaning back with his legs spread wide. You walk to him, slowly straddling his waist, letting your ass sit between his thighs.

Levi looked up at your face, his steel grey eyes analyzing every inch of your face. His chiseled jawline could cut the sexual tension between you two easily. Levi's hands wandered to your ass and hips, squeezing it gently. You let your hands cup Levi's face, swiping your thumb over his plump lips. He kissed the pad of your thumb gently, staring into your eyes.

Your arms wrapped around Levi's neck, pushing yourself forward towards his lips. His arms followed your lead, looping around your waist. There was about an inch left between you before Levi closed the gap.

Finally.

Levi's lips felt like home. They moved with precision and calculation, similar to how he battles. You heard him take a sharp breath as you separated your lips, allowing his tongue entry. Your pussy was wet already, almost like it missed him. Your lips missed his lips. Both pairs.

"Mm, I missed you." Levi groaned against your lips before bringing his fingers to the front of your pants, sliding his fingers inside. "She missed me too." He felt your arousal, swiping it on his finger and bringing it to his mouth, sucking the digit.

You bit your bottom lip watching him do so, your pussy soaking at this point. You didn't want to be without his lips any more. You've missed so much time already. Your lips fit his like a puzzle piece.

"Levi." You you took a breath, pressing your forehead to his. "I can't deal with you throwing me away again. If you don't want me, all of me, don't lead me on. I can't say no to you."

Levi pressed his lips to yours, caressing your face with his large hand. "Listen, brat, I wouldn't be here if I didn't want you."

Your mind was telling you to second guess this, but your heart was flying through the sky. Fuck it.

"Levi?" You say breathlessly.

"Yes, princess?" He tilted his head, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

You lean down to his ear and whispered, "Make love to me."

Levi picked you up bridal style, bringing you to the bedroom side of his office. It's in the back, hidden, you basically wouldn't know its there unless Levi showed you.

His bed was neatly made, each pillow fluffed to perfection. Per usual.

Levi laid you down on your back on the bed gently, kissing your forehead before bringing his fingertips to the hem of your shirt. You nod, giving him permission to take it off. Your shirt seemingly flew off, your tits, bouncing with the new movement. Levi looked mesmerized as he took your left breast in his left hand, while pressing his mouth to your right nipple. You lean your head back in pleasure while Levi sucked on your tit, taking turns between biting and sucking.

You moan quietly, feeling your arousal pool in your panties. You looked down at Levi, who was already staring at you. A smirk curved on his lips before your nipple left his mouth. "You are so beautiful." He kissed your lips, his hands going to your pants next.

"Why am I the only one half naked?" You tugged at Levi's sleeve. "Take this off." You help him unbutton his shirt, throwing it on the floor. Levi's attention was brought back to your pants, sliding them off your legs and revealing your panties. They're black lace, his favorite.

"It's like you knew you were going to see me." Levi almost purred, sliding your panties down your thighs to your ankles, then the floor.

Levi grazes his finger over your slit, feeling the slick of your arousal on his finger. "What a good girl."

You moaned involuntarily at the praise. His fingers went in and out of you with easy because you are so wet.

"Levi, I need you inside of me." You moan his name.

"Say please." He tilted his head to the side, observing your facial expressions.

"Please, Levi." You plead, your pussy begging for his cock.

"Anything for you, Princess." Levi unbuttoned his pants, throwing them to the side along with his boxer briefs. You watched as his cock sprung out of his pants, his size taking you by surprise, even though you've seen it more than a dozen times.

He teased the tip at your entrance, causing you both to moan.

"God, you are perfect." Levi grunted, pressing himself into you inch by inch. Your walls stretched to his size, filling you. Once he was all the way inside, he began pumping his cock in and out of you.

Levi clutched your right hip with his hand, while caressing your face with his other hand. While he was pounding into you, he was still caring for you, making sure you're okay.

Making love to you.

His cock was reaching places it hasn't been in so long, your walls pulsating around him. Your orgasm was coming, faster than ever.

"Levi –" You moan his name loudly, causing him to cover your mouth with his hand.

"You need to quiet that mouth of yours." Levi pushed his cock into you more harshly, quickening his pace.

Your eyes roll back as your walls continue to pulsate around him, moaning against his hand. You closed your eyes tightly as the world shattered around you, your heart almost beating out of your chest.

There was no one in the world but you and Levi.

The vibration of your moans caused Levi to reach his orgasm, his strokes becoming uneven.

"Where should I cum, Princess?" He moaned in your ear.

"Inside me." You whisper in his ear. "Fill me."

Without a second thought, Levi came inside of you. You swear you could feel his cock in your stomach.

Levi stayed inside of you for awhile after you both came, not wanting to leave you. Once he withdrew, you felt like there was a void within you.

That didn't last long because once Levi cleaned you and himself off, he was next to you, his body mending to yours.

"Please don't tell me to leave." You look down as he kisses the top of your head.

"You're never leaving me again."

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfic #levi smut #aot smut

[mayariviolet]

Daddy Lessons

dad! Reiner x Reader

summary: “With his right hand on his rifle, he swore it on the Bible, Oh my daddy said shoot!” // Some of Reiner's life lessons for your children. Specifically for your daughter.

cw: established relationships & family dynamics, mentions of guns, fluff (?), light angst, Reiner is just a good dad, guys!

a/n: Inspired by that Beyoncé song! Duh! Also, on ao3.

wc: ~2k

For the most part, Reiner is the quintessential gentle giant and an overprotective dad. There is no way in hell his children would ever get hurt, physically or emotionally, regardless of whatever gender identity your child chooses.

But when he found out that you two were expecting a daughter, he felt a wave of both excitement and anxiety. As your little family grew, Reiner dove straight into fatherhood without hesitation. He would introduce your daughter to his interests: blackjacks and classic vinyls while also allowing her to find strength in femininity. Learning how to respect her rules at the tea parties Reiner was so graciously invited to. Making sure that she listened to the smartest women he knew (you) amongst other things. He aimed to raise a strong, confident, and compassionate young woman. Granted, this got your daughter into some sticky situations at school regarding fighting bullies, but the only things that Reiner would ask when he picked her up from detention were:

“Did they deserve it?” And if she nodded yes, the most important follow-up question would be, “Did you win?”

You didn’t condone violence in any form, but you’d be lying if there wasn’t a swelling in your chest when she said that she won.

Reiner was acutely aware that he could never fully understand the trials and tribulations of being a woman. Babysitting Gabi and her gaggle of friends showed him that. However, he did try his best to warn your daughter about horrible men (something that his many years of playing recreational hockey made abundantly clear) and things to be cautious about. Reiner often looked down upon locker room talk and cringed at how some of his old teammates carried it so casually in their everyday colloquialisms- with Floch being the worst of it.

Sure, he knew your daughter would grow up and start dating one day. He understood that he couldn’t vet every single person she’d dated. Reiner sure as hell knew that you two were more than capable of teaching her how to protect her heart while also keeping an open mind. But he felt obligated to teach your kids how to court a person properly. He instilled some lessons: flowers, gifts for the parents, staying a little longer at invited parties to help clean.

So when your daughter brought home a new boyfriend, Reiner tried to accept that his little girl wasn’t his little girl anymore. By now, she was mature enough to approach Reiner and you for any advice. However, Reiner couldn’t shake this feeling that her new boyfriend was nothing more than a grade-a-loser—something he would always bring up to you as soon as your daughter's boyfriend left the house. Reiner tried to like him the first few months, but his interaction with people never sat right in his spirit.

Quite frankly, you agreed that your daughter’s boyfriend is slightly off-putting and over-compensating with bravado. It did nothing more than hide the stench of insecurity he secreted. But the way your daughter’s eyes lit up whenever she had the opportunity to talk about her boyfriend (albeit praising the bare minimum he did occasionally) made it challenging to deter her.

However, in the quiet moments, you attempted personal discussions with your daughter about ‘keeping her options open’ and ‘not settling too quickly.’ Hoping to prevent countless similar dating disasters before you were blessed with Reiner’s love. But when her cheeks started reddening with annoyance, and the conversations started to veer towards debates, you and Reiner decided to drop the topic altogether, much to your dismay.

When ‘the boyfriend’ took space in your well-loved home, Reiner would go so far as to start openly talking about how he owns several rifles, although being a ranch owner and hunter gave that away. It also had a sign that said, “God Lives Here,” courtesy of Karina and begrudgingly endorsed by your mom, predominantly hung on the gallery wall amongst the family portraits. This was a subtle but all too loud declaration to any potential visitors.

Of course, he’d be courteous- never outright told your daughter’s boyfriend that he’s a jackass. But he kept a mental note of every slight, all noticed and usually brought up by you. The first red flag was that the young man didn’t even greet you two at the door, not even a halfway smile! Just a bee-line to your daughters' bedroom up the stairs and to the right.

The second was that, after two years of dating, he never gave either of you two a Christmas card. What was more irritating was that your daughter never missed an opportunity to provide the Forster’s individualized presents, no matter the occasion.

The third and less obvious one was how he spoke about other girls when you or your daughter weren’t around. Reiner didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the way that scrub spoke about women- and to his son, no doubt!- made Reiner consider installing an electric invisible fence where his stupid pickup truck usually parked.

“Love, please just drop it. Maybe he’s just tired,” you’d whisper in the kitchen while fervently rubbing his arm.

“Fine. But if he stays here another night—Forster’s kid is paying for the water bill. How many showers can he take and still smell!” Reiner let out an exasperated sigh before addressing your son. “Listen to me, if you wanna impress whoever’s parents you’re dating, don’t be like your sister’s boyfriend. That kid is a dunce.”

You shoot Reiner a cautionary glare while urging your son to continue his homework and keep in mind what Reiner said.

“Look, love, I think we’ve taught our children well enough that if anything happens, they’re capable of handling things. They will come to us when they need it.” You say and soothingly brush away some of his hair.

Reiner eases his stance a little, uncrossing his arms and wraps one around your waist. He kisses your temple and gives you a small smile. The crow's feet from the luxury of living a life getting deeper as he looks down at you. The sounds of farewells break apart the moment between you two. 

He peers through the archway before turning back to you. “I’m going to talk to her once he leaves,” he says.

“Don’t overdo it!”

Reiner gives you another quick kiss, his five o’clock shadow rubbing against your cheek; before he leaves the room, Reiner pours a small glass of whisky and a cup of tea to bring to the front porch.

“Good luck, Dad,” your son says, giving Reiner a thumbs-up. Reiner returns the gesture and gives him a wink. Reiner maneuvered through the front room before taking a seat on the front porch. A creaky door and a clink of the mesh screen announced his arrival- causing your daughter and her boyfriend to jolt and look up at Reiner’s imposing frame.

He nods in acknowledgement before trying to look casual and not eavesdrop on the heated but whispered conversation in the driveway. The cicadas begin their choir singing as Reiner makes himself comfortable placing his drinks on the wooden coffee table. Your daughter’s usual smile is replaced with an apathetic expression as she waves her boyfriend goodbye, choosing to make her way up the stairs instead of electing to see him off until his headlights disappear into obscurity.

 “Have a good night, kid,” Reiner waves and sips his drink.

“You too, Reiner. I’ll tell Dad you said hi.”

What absolute nerve this young man has not even to call Reiner ‘Mr. Braun!’ That is the bare minimum!

“Floch is almost always welcome here. You two, come stop by now!” Reiner bites his tongue and tries to remain composed.

Over his dead body, would Reiner let that helmet-headed freak Floch visit his ranch, but he had to pretend for your sake. Even if you also agree that Floch was definitely the reason his son is the way that he is. As her boyfriend pulls out of the gravelled driveway, your daughter plops a seat next to Reiner on the sun-bleached fabric couch. Reiner gives another halfway wave before letting his smile fall when the truck is no longer in sight.

“Congratulations on getting into your dream school sweetheart.” He takes a sip from his whiskey-infused tea.

“Thanks, Daddy.” Your daughter smiles but keeps her head down, tucking her feet into the couch cushions to shield her from the cool summer breeze. “I’m really excited,” she hums, conveying no other particular emotion. Reiner takes this as an opportunity to say his peace and clutches the ceramic mug tighter.

“You know, you’re a smart kid- You should think about YOUR future.”

She sighs heavily, “Dad-”

Reiner raises a hand to finish his thought: “I know, I know. But let me say what I need to say. I want you to be smart, independent, and—” He grabs your daughter’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze: “Baby girl, that boy is playing you.”

“Daddy!” Your daughter groans and rolls her eyes, knowing this conversation all too well. She sinks further into the couch. “Please!”

“I don’t plan on dying any time soon—but remember what I said about fighting?” he asks, never letting his gaze break away from the delicate dance of the sun and moon across the horizon.

“It’s my Second Amendment,” she mutters, picking at the dry skin on her thumb.

“Exactly.” Reiner let her hand go, pouring more whiskey into his tea, “You are a tough girl. That’s why this is the last time I will ever bring this up. I promise.”

“Okay.”

The cicadas are screaming a little louder. Reiner and your daughter enjoy the sunset on the front porch. His gaze follows the creamsicle-coloured sunset, which disappears behind the rolling fields. Your voice cuts the silence, urging Reiner and your daughter to enter. “Love, your potatoes are done! Come inside so we can finish plating dinner!”

Reiner slowly gets up from his wicker chair, his calloused hands opening the creaking door. “Come on—I also made your favourite.”

Your daughter doesn’t move, instead looking out to where the sun once was. “Come on, baby girl. You know how your brother gets.” Reiner softly urges.

“Daddy, he cheated on me. I-” she choked on her words, “I don’t know what to do.”

Reiner softly closes the door. From the corner of his eyes, he can finally see the steady stream of tears cascading from her eyes.

“Reiner! Hurry, please!”

“One-second love!” He calls out to you, “I’m sorry, baby girl.” Reiner thumbs your daughter's tears away before roughing up her hair.

Almost as if you sensed a shift in the air, you urge your son to help with dinner instead- much to his dismay. After two minutes of whining, the sound of an oven door closing and plates replace your son’s protests. Your daughter's sniffles fill the air, and the aroma of dinner mingles with it. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” Reiner glances halfway before patting his pant pocket down in search of something. The depths of his muddy denim work pants rattling.

“Daddy what are you doing?”

“Good. I have my keys.”

“For what?”

Reiner throws his keys to your daughter. “You have your license?”

“Yeah? I drive to school everyday?”

“Not that one.”

As if she finally understood what Reiner was saying, her lips curled into a little smile.“You don’t have to go out and fight.”

“It’s my Second Amendment.”

Reiner nods before turning back to the door. As he’s about to enter the house she runs up to him giving a tight hug. He pulls her into a warm embrace and waves her goodbye. Your daughter rushes to the red pickup truck with anticipation. Reiner feels a swelling in his chest that only his little family could ever elicit.

He grabs the now-empty cups and heads inside the house, kicking off his outdoor shoes at the entrance and changing into his slippers. When Reiner enters the kitchen, he rinses and places the cups in the sink to be washed later. Sounds of the truck engine starting and a slamming door snap you away from the conversation with your son.

“Is she not going to eat dinner?”

“She has an errand to run—just to check something out.” He pulls out his chair and gives your son a little pinch on the cheek. “Let’s say grace."

a/n: I LOVE DAD REINER SO MUCH! When I heard this song again for the first time in years, this was all I could think about. Okay! Time to finish this chapter for First Love/Late Spring, which I might push back the release date to Saturday because I worked sm overtime this week and I’m feeling tired >.<

══════════════════

© Please do not copy or replicate my work. Inspiration is appreciated, but credit properly! ♡

#reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x y/n #dad reiner braun #attack on titan #modern au aot #reiner braun x you #aot x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun fluff #light angst #attack on titan one shot #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfic #mv.writing📝

[nelapanela94]

TW: SMUT

Under his weight, your body trembles in raw ecstasy as, ragged among mewls and moans, his name is torn apart from your lips. Your back coalesces into his chest, blending as if you were crafted for each other. Your hands cling to the sheets for dear life, and color dwindles from your knuckles until they numb. His matted hair tickles your ruddy cheeks, smudged with tears, and sweat as he peppers open-mouth kisses on your shoulder.

He grunts. His breath hitches, and every fiber in him quivers. Your body clasps around him, tight and greedy as to never let go. Demanding.

"You feel so good," you purr. Your eyes are close, and all your nerve endings are honed to every sensation he rouses on you.

You feel complete, so full of him in every sense.

Desired, wanted, loved.

A taste of bliss.

Surrendering your all as he mends you.

He knows where to touch and how.

Your back arches; his hand cradles your neck, pressing his thumb under your chin, tipping your head up. "Say my name again," he rasps in your ear. "Say it." He just can't have enough of his new vice.

"Levi."

His hips roll against the curve of your lovely ass, picking up the pace.

"Levi!" Your lashes are clumped and glistening with tears.

He smirks.

Your walls clench, and he pounds faster, dragging you with him to the point of no return, where the world shatters, stars burst and spiral behind your lids and shockwaves ripple through your body, making every inch squirm. Your toes curl, and Levi dilates your climax, pursuing his own.

A low growl cleaves from somewhere deep in his chest, and you beam a smile.

Sheen in sweat, you're a tangle of limbs and a heaving mess.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman s.m.u.t #levi ackerman/you #levi ackerman/reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi x oc #levi x reader #levi x you #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan #aot #snk #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi attack on titan

[lilacsinjuly]

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY TWO: HORROR MOVIE.

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

summary: Mikasa loves when you and her stay in to watch a horror movie together. For her, theres nothing better than the way you cling on to her, scared, because fuck does it turn her on.

CW: fem reader, bondage, knife play, mikasa accidentally cuts reader, reader lowkey into it, pain, blood, injury, thigh riding, scissoring, oral, spitting, 'Good girl', 'Baby'

word count: 3k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

Mikasa couldn't help the rush she felt watching horror movies with you, curled up in your bed in matching plaid pyjamas. It wasn't the kind of rush you'd expect someone to get whilst watching a horror movie.

For you, there was a lurking feeling of not knowing what to expect and the terror that comes with it. There was an addicting thrill that came in the form of gorey murders and jumpscares.

However, Mikasa remained unbothered by the predictable plot twists, non-frightening jumpscares, shitty acting and the fake blood. Yet, out of all the dates she had taken you on, all of the nights watching movies she enjoyed and the endless amounts of romantic moments the two of you shared, her favourite times were when you insist you watch a scary film. The way you'd hold tightly onto her arm and bury your head into her side, admiring her fearless state - and don't even start on the cute squeals that would come out of your mouth at the most predictable jump scare.

Nothing made her so desperate to slam the laptop shut and haul you over her lap so that she could take you right then and there.

Like, for example, right now. The two of you were laying in your bed, cuddled up with a blanket as candles illuminated the otherwise dark room, the only other light being the one coming from your laptop presenting the movie.

Mikasa had one arm around you as you were bunched up next to her, your head buried in her side, peeking out of the corner of your eye as you watched with dread what was about to come up next. Mikasa had no clue what was going on as she hadn't been paying attention to the screen in front of her, more so to the way your hand was placed on her thigh, your grip tightening whenever you got scared.

She knew you’d be annoyed if you figured out she wasn’t paying attention, but what was she supposed to do? 

The way your eyes were glued to the screen, yet your hand only wandered further up her thighs made her wonder whether you were doing it on purpose. She was almost positive you were clueless to your own roaming hand, yet something about the way your fingers danced dangerously close to her aching cunt was telling her otherwise. 

Though, this wasn’t an uncommon situation you’d put both you and your girlfriend in. For example, like when you’re out at one of friends houses, you’ll commonly place your head on her thighs and look up at her with an unknowing glint in your eyes whilst she glares warningly at you. Or, when your hand slips down her arm and around her waist, and even when you’d hug her and your head would sit comfortably on her chest. Perhaps, it’s Mikasa’s mind diverging to risky places from your innocent, yet lingering, hands. Or maybe, it’s you putting on a faux act of innocence just to get her riled up.

Nevertheless, you were driving her further away from her own sanity with just the touch of your hand. It was shocking how much control you had over her, even though you weren’t paying the slightest of attention to her.

Without warning, a sudden jumpscare flashed onto the screen of your laptop. You jumped, a squeal living your lips as one of your hands tugs at Mikasa's shirt, and the other… the other squeezes her thigh, hard. 

“Fuck-” Mikasa cursed, her thoughts running wild as she instinctively placed her hand over yours through the blanket separating you both.

You sat up quickly, a panicked expression painted on your face. “Oh my god, Mika, I’m so sorry! I did I hurt you?--”

She looked at you inquisitively and in disbelief. “You have seriously no fucking clue what you’re doing to me, don’t you?”

The look of panic morphed into one of shock. There was a hint of anger and frustration in Mikasa’s voice which made you slightly nervous. Have you done something wrong? Is she angry at you? You couldn’t find the right words, her sudden aggression confused you and threw you off slightly. You felt hot and nervous. All you could do was gulp in anticipation and ask: “What do you mean, Mika?”

She rolled her eyes at you and swiftly moved the laptop to the floor and threw you over one of her thighs so that you straddled her. This time, it was her hand that wandered up your arm and up to your cheek, taking your chin in her grip and leaning forward. 

Staying silent, her lips hovered in front of your own, yet when you tried to lean in to kiss her, the grip on your chin grew more harsh as a warning. You whimpered slightly. 

“Did you not like the movie?” You muttered against Mikasa’s lips. In response, she laughed slightly, it was curt yet fond.

“Baby, I couldn’t pay attention with your hand rubbing my thigh like that.” Her hand dropped to your hip, rubbing her thumb affectionately.

“Oh.” You felt flustered and slightly embarrassed that you hadn’t even realised, too immersed in the movie to care about what your own body was doing. Your head had turned away to look at the wall, too self-conscious to look into Mikasa’s eyes, yet your actions only annoyed her further.

Her affectionate hand on your hip turned harsh as it once again gripped your chin to turn your head back to look at her. “You don’t take your eyes off of me, understand?”

You mumbled out profuse apologies, earning Mikasa’s hand to drop back down to your hip before an idea had sparked in her mind.

Leaning over to your bedside table, she opened the bottom drawer to find some of the rope from the last time you had needed it.

A malicious smirk grew on her face to contrast the nervous one on your own. She tilted her head at you, silently telling you to put your hands behind your back and yet you had heard every word of it, slowly putting your arms behind your back, your eyes never leaving Mikasa’s.

“Good girl.” She tied your hands together tightly, and moved the rope around to see if it was too tight. “Is that okay?” 

You nodded silently, biting your lip.

However, Mikasa had realised that there was another problem standing in between the two of you and her bringing you pleasure. Going back to that same drawer, she pulled out a knife from within it, making your eyes go wide as she began to cut through the material of your plaid pyjama bottoms.

“Mika!” you scolded, yet she only gave you a look of ‘What else was I supposed to do?’

“I’ll buy you some more.” was the only other response you got, yet just as you were about to reply, she pulled your panties to the side and guided your hips to grind back and forth against her thigh. 

You let out a cry of pleasure as your clit made contact with the material of her matching pyjamas, yet you could feel the muscle of her thigh nevertheless.

The hold she had on your hips as she dragged you along her thigh and the pace that she had set was ruthless as she watched you with half a grin on her otherwise emotionless face.

You gasped and whined at the feeling of your pussy grinding on her thigh as your hands itched to be freed so that you could touch her, and if it wasn’t for her own hands holding you up, you’re certain that the pleasure would have made you lose balance. 

Your eyes were tightly knitted shut and she uttered comforting words and praises into your ear. “You’re such a good girl f’me, baby.” Her eyes were glued to the wetness of your cunt, soaking the material of her bottoms. “Look at you, so wet and needy. You like rubbing your desperate pussy all over me, baby, hm?” She asked before sliding her index finger through your wet folds and brought it to her lips, licking it clean.

She hummed in delight, sighing at the taste of you. “So sweet. Now answer my question baby. You like this?”

Your mind was foggy and your eyes were still on her lips from when she had slipped her finger past them. You nodded endlessly. “Feels so good Mika. Please don’t stop!--”

Nearing your high, you pressed your hips harder down onto her thigh, aiming desperately to finish. Your clit was throbbing and your mind was all over the place yet stayed only on one topic - Mikasa. She was making you feel unbearably amazing, you had never felt so pleasured and had never reached an orgasm so intensely or quickly before.

“You about to come, baby? C’mon, come for me.” She asked you. Mikasa adored the look on your face whenever you came. Your lips would part, and your eyes would shut securely as the cutest noises of pleasure would exit your lips.

At her words, as if your body reacted to her demand, you came instantly, gushing all over her thigh as your juices soaked through and dripped down her bottoms. You clenched around nothing as your core pulsated.

Throwing your head back, one of Mikasa’s hands naturally went to support your head as the other held you firmly, unwilling to let you go.

Your breaths were heavy and laboured, yet both of you knew it wasn’t about to stop there. 

Mikasa grinned as you attempted to shuffle off her lap, jumping when she brought her leg up to bump against your clit, earning her a scornful look which morphed into a pout on your face.

As she took off her pyjama bottoms, she laughed and said: “Might have to buy some more for myself as well, you know.” 

But, just before she removed her underwear, another one of her ideas, which were only ever fun for her, popped into her head as she lay back down on the bed. You could tell that she was soaking wet.

You gave her a serious look. “If you want me to eat you out, Mika, you’ll have to take those off plus these ropes.”

In return, she only gave you a playful smile, accompanied by a sly glint in her eyes. “Hm…” She pretended to think as you tilted your head at her and raised an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think I will.”

You could tell that it was somewhat of a challenge, and though, sure, it would be fun for her to watch as you struggled to take her underwear off with just your teeth and then to bury your face into her pussy without the support of your hands to hold you up, yet it would only prolong her pleasure and take more time for you to make her feel good. 

Therefore, it was about 10 percent less humiliating as you tried to take her panties off with just your teeth. Eventually though, you had managed, and as you slid them down her legs, she caressed your head and purred out a ‘Good girl’, resulting in your legs shifting against each other desperate for friction once more. She only gave you a small scolding look before telling you to start and not to tease her.

Her hand held onto your head and kept you up as your tongue began to run through her folds. Mikasa was typically quiet, so she only let out a small sigh and threw her head back at the contact. 

Your tongue glided through her pussy and slurped up all her juices whilst you teased her hole with your tongue. 

The grip on your head became harder. “What did I tell you about teasing?”

You took her words seriously and began to only focus on pleasuring her. Your tongue moved in all the right ways, switching between circling her clit and prodding at her tongue. You moaned into her pussy, sending the vibrations straight through her and making it harder to contain her voice, though she remained persistent.

The sounds of slurping smacked against the walls of the room, you sucked and licked as though you’d been dehydrated and deprived of any liquid for far too long. Her juices leaked down your chin and covered the bed yet you continued to relentlessly eat her out.

Mikasa couldn’t take much more before she was pushing your head further into her pussy and came all over your face, yet you continued your attack on her pussy, tongue still pummeling in and out of her hole through her orgasm. 

A string of profanities spewed out of her mouth as she grinded herself up against your face, bucking her hips into your mouth.

When she had come down from her high, you removed your mouth and peppered kisses all over her thighs as she attempted to catch her breath.

“Fuck, you are amazing at that.” Mikasa moved away from you, standing up off the bed as you rolled onto your back and grinned up at her, licking your lips. She grabbed a tissue from your bedside table and leaned down over you to clean around your mouth before she placed her lips against yours and shoved her tongue deep down your throat.

Soon, she was over your lap, hands roaming all over your body as she kissed you intensely. Your lips were so soft and she could taste herself against your tongue.

“I need you again, Mika, please.” You whispered against her lips, she started to trail kisses across your jaw and down your throat and you could feel her smirk through each kiss.

“Oh yeah? How bad do you need me, baby?” Her voice left goosebumps all over you.

She took her shirt off, and with your hands still bound behind your back, cut yours open with the same knife she had used previously. 

“So fuckin’ bad, Mika. My pussy was made for you to fuck it, I need you against her so, so bad.” You whined and writhed underneath her, yet her lips continued to trail down your chest until they got down to your tits. Taking one in her mouth, she groaned lowly and looked up at your face contorted with pleasure.  

Her tongue moved and teased your nipple before she spat between your tits and moved onto the other nipple. Your hips bucked up into her, pleading and eager for more.

Mikasa sat you up and grabbed the knife once more, too impatient to take her time to undo the knot she had formed. She reached behind you and severed the ropes, though in the process she accidentally grazed your hand. 

“Shit!” Mikasa winced, the ropes fell behind you on the bed as both of your hands were quickly brought forward so that Mikasa could inspect the damage. Her mind was so clouded by the fact she had cut you, that she didn’t realise the soft moan that had escaped your lips reluctantly until a few moments after.

Her eyes widened. “D- did you just–”

Your lips went to hover in front of hers. “Don’t worry about it Mika,” referring to her initial worry and concern at hurting you, kissing her gently and then pulling away and smirking against her lips. “I kinda liked it.” 

“Shit- I knew you were perfect for me.” She brought her lips back down to yours, her panic having subsided and replaced by a throb in between her legs. “What I didn’t know… was that you were such a pain slut, baby.”

Mikasa dragged the knife down your chest, the feeling of cool steel against your warm breasts made you shiver and roll your head back moaning. Yet, Mikasa had decided to store this newfound kink of yours into the back of her mind, as right now, her pussy was begging to feel your own. 

Throwing the knife to the side and swiping the rope off the bed from behind you, she laid you down on the bed and lifted your legs up and spread them apart after tearing your panties off.

Her pussy hovers over yours and when she finally settles down, closing the gap between the two of you, you gasped in delight.

Mikasa began to grind against your pussy slowly, holding onto you for some stability. 

As time moved on, Mikasa grew more eager and unable to refrain from holding back. She ground up against you feverishly, incapable of going easy on you and unwilling to stop.

She humps against you, rubbing her wet pussy against yours, your clit bumping against hers in the most ethereal way. 

The room was crammed with the sounds of your pussies smacking against each other in the most filthy and lewd way possible. The sounds of squelching and slapping made its way to your ears along with your voice whimpering and crying out Mikasa’s name. “Faster, Mika, please!”

You buck your hips against her own, attempting to get closer and go faster. Mikasa let out a low groan at the friction. “Fuck– Shit your pussy’s so wet.”

Your arm reached up to hold Mikasa’s hips, and when Mikasa looked down, she saw a trail of blood running down your arm. “Shit, you actually into that shit, baby? So fuckin’ hot.” When she heard the way you moaned, she took her hand and slapped you harshly across your face. You gasped a mixture of pain and pleasure, your mouth hung open silently. “You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you baby?”

Nodding your head at her words, your hands gripped the sheets harshly.

Your thighs were soaking with both yours and Mikasa’s juices and you bit your lip at the thought.

Mikasa leaned down, her chest pressing against yours and your lips connected in a passionate kiss. The feeling of her tits rubbing against yours along with your pussies was driving you insane, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“‘M gonna cum, I cant- fuck!” you squirted over Mikasa’s pussy, drenching her yet simultaneously sending her over the edge.

She cried out your name in pleasure as she came, her hips stuttering against yours.

Mikasa collapsed on top of you, sighing deeply into your ear as she pulled you close and kissed your neck. The two of you bathed comfortably in the silence of your own breathing and the feeling of being pressed against one another as you recovered from the breathlessness.

A few minutes later, she pulled away and caressed your cheek, staring at you with lovesick eyes. “I knew you were perfect for me, baby.” She smiled, kissing your face. “Let's get you cleaned up, okay?”

#fanfic #smut #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #aot smut #aot x reader #aot x reader smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #mikasa smut #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #female reader #x reader

[http-tokki]

Over-fucking-ruled

~ levi ackerman x reader ~ tags/cw: explicit language, canonverse, established relationships, levi being a tiny bit controlling (but its for the best) ~ wc: 550

The rain started pouring around midday and didn't let up as the sun started to set, and as darkness rolled in from the east so did more storm clouds. Too far from the walls and too exhausted to find any form of civilisation, Levi had decided to call it and set up camp under a small outcropping deep within the forest. He had sent a group out for surveillance and with nothing to report, the captain ordered everyone to unpack and settle in. The collective sigh of relief that whooshed from the group could have knocked down an oak tree and as everyone started to shuck off wet boots and overcoats, the chill of the night crept in. There was a small fire, enough to cook rations and dry some articles of clothing but not enough to warm everyone. So they huddled, squished together around the flames teeth chattering and hands shaking as they shovelled stew into their mouths. 

"I think we might have to double up" you mutter to your captain while counting the number of heads and available sleeping bags. "I guess we could string the tents up but even then, we won't have enough to keep everyone warm" 

The soaked linen had been slung over low-hanging branches earlier in the evening in the hope to dry them a bit before it came time for lights out, but with the rain and wind they were just as wet. You purse your lips in deliberation, mind running over logistics and numbers to figure out if you could squeeze three women into a single-person sleeping bag. 

“Levi, should I-“ you start to explain your predicament but you're cut off.

“Yes, just wash the mud off your arms”

“I-that’s not what I-what?” you blink at your captain.

Levi doesn’t look up from his sword he is cleaning as he responds. “You weren’t gonna ask to share with me?”

You shake your head and squat in an attempt to collect the bowls and cups you had both used for dinner.  

 “I was gonna ask about if I should ask Petra or…why are you looking at me like that?” 

A grin lifts the corner of his mouth. “Do I smell that bad?” 

"No, I just don't want-" 

"Don't want to what? Be caught sleeping with your captain?"

The double entendre catches you off guard. 

"Yes, exactly that" your cheeks start to heat at the blatant flirting. It's not as if you weren't used to that or the idea of sharing a sleeping space with Levi, but to do it so close to other people that anybody could find out. The idea had you both terrified and excited. 

You shake your head, wiping your mind free of the thought of you and Levi tangled up together. "I'm just going to share with the girls"

"No you're not," he states as he places his now clean sword to the side and reaches for the dishes in your hands. "I'm ordering you to share with me and as your Captain, you have to listen to me"

“I object to this" you complain as he pulls the plates from your hands.

“Good for you. But over-fucking-ruled"

a/n: ~ based on this prompt. "I object. Good for you. Over-fucking ruled"

#levi aot #levi ackerman x reader fluff #attack on titan levi #levi attack on titan #levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader drabble #levi x reder #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman reader insert #attack on titan fanfic #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman reader #levi ackerman smut

[cosmicjoke]

Hurt

The kid’s got lice.

Well, Kenny guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. Comin’ from that fuckin’ shit-ass, rat infested hellhole Kuchel’d given herself over to, ‘course the kid had lice. Probably had a whole buncha’ other shit wrong with him too. No doubt.

For one, the little bastard hadn’t said more than two words to Kenny in the whole time they’d been together. Quietest, unfriendliest kid Kenny’d ever met, and that was sayin’ somethin’, round here in the Underground.

He looks practically dead, sittin’ over there in the corner, gnawing on a piece of stale bread.

He ain’t wearin’ more than a ragged, threadbare gown that Kenny’s guessin’ was the boy’s only real piece of clothing. He’d ransacked the room in the brothel before takin’ the kid and leaving, lookin’ for somethin’ else he might be able to wear, but there wasn’t nothin’. Only some larger gowns, similarly worn thin, which he reckoned had belonged to his sister. And since she was dead, wasn’t no point in takin’ those.

The kid’s got nothin’ on underneath his gown. No kinda’ undergarments or nothin’. He’d made the kid go out ahead of him when they’d left that room, and the hem of the gown had ridden up, exposing the boy’s backside. Kenny’d seen what looked like bedsores, angry red welts, inflamed and painful lookin’ over wrinkled and filth ridden butt cheeks, and he’d wondered just how long the kid’s been sittin’ there, starin’ at his mother’s corpse. Had to have been a fuckin’ week, at least, for that kinda’ shit to happen. It was a damned pitiful sight, is what it was.

Just like it was now, lookin’ over at the boy, sittin’ there in the corner, chewin’ his bread and barely alive.

The collar of his gown sits stretched and too big on him, slippin’ off one shoulder entirely, dippin’ past his collarbone and revealing a milk white chest, bruised and mottled in spots. The kids ribs poke grotesquely through the skin, pronounced enough that Kenny feels a little sick just lookin’ at it, same as he feels lookin’ at the kids sunken face, eyes too big and set back deep and horrible, like a damned skull with nothin’ but skin stretched too tight over it, lips cracked dry and bleeding fresh each time the boy takes a bite of his food.

He’d fuckin’ told Kuchel, he’d told her, down here wasn’t no kinda’ place to try and raise a child. Tried to tell her there wasn’t no way she’d be able to provide for the two of ‘em. And now look. She was dead, and the kid wasn’t doin’ much better. He didn’t have no shoes or socks either. His feet and hands are filthy, black with grim and soot and dirt and who the fuck knows what else, toes and fingers all cut up. He keeps reachin’ up, scratchin’ at his tangled mop of jet black hair.

Just like Kuchel’s, Kenny thinks.

Thinks, if the kid got some meat on him, he’d look awfully like his mother.

He tries not to think too hard on that, somethin’ ugly and violent shiftin’ in his chest when he does.

Kuchel wouldn’t appreciate it, Kenny don’t think, if he let the rage get him around her son. That’d be low, he guesses, even for him, beatin’ on a boy who looked one stiff breeze away from collapsin’ dead.

“Oi, brat!” Kenny snaps, and he don’t miss the way the kid flinches hard back before he freezes, his eyes goin’ impossibly wider for a moment as he looks up, starin’ scared shitless at him. Kenny sneers. Wasn’t like he’d hit the kid yet or nothin’, but here he was, actin’ like he was expectin’ it. Wouldn’t surprise him, if he were to find out some of Kuchel’s John’s took to beatin’ him. That’s how those types were. Lookin’ to hurt someone who couldn’t fight back. Made ‘em feel big and strong, hurtin’ someone who couldn’t do nothin’ about it. “Slow down there, would ya? You’re gonna’ make yourself sick if you eat too fast. I’m guessin’ you already feel stuffed, huh?”

The kid… Levi… he’d told Kenny his name was Levi, just stares at him, not movin’. Kenny can see his skeletal fingers round the bread, trembling and weak.

“Can’t you say nothin’? I know you can talk. You talked before.”

Still nothin’, and Kenny sighs.

“Well, shit, I hope you ain’t simple. I’m gonna’ have to take ya’ out back and drown ya’ if you are.”

That gets a reaction. Somehow the petrified look on the kid’s face only grows more so, and then those cracked lips of his start wobblin’, and the bread slips, sad and pathetic, from his grasp, fallin’ against the ground.

“… S-sorry. I’m sorry.” He rasps, and jeez, Kenny almost wishes he hadn’t said nothin’, his voice so dry and weak and broken, it sounds like it should belong to an old man, not a seven year old boy, or whatever. It’s fuckin’ unnerving, is what it is.

Though, if Kenny didn’t know when it was his sister got herself pregnant, he woulda’ thought Levi was 3, maybe four years old at the most. He was so fuckin’ small.

He shakes his head, nudging the brim of his hat up higher.

“Welp, seems like you’ve had enough for now. Let’s go.”

Kenny pushes himself to his feet, and the kid shrinks back from him as he comes round the table and toward him.

Kenny rolls his eyes, grabbin’ hold ‘a the boy’s wrist and yankin’ him up to his feet.

“Quit actin’ so jumpy, brat. I ain’t gonna hit ya ‘till you give me a good enough reason to.”

He can feel the boy stumblin’ after him as he pulls him along. It’s his problem, though, if he can’t keep up. Kenny ain’t gonna’ slow down for him, with those short ass legs ‘a his.

Kenny can feel the eyes of ‘a the tavern’s other customers on ‘em as they leave, but none of ‘em say shit, too concerned with their own skin. That suits Kenny just fine. Stinkin’ cowards though, the lot of ‘em. For all they knew, Kenny was gonna’ do somethin’ awful to the kid, but none of ‘em cared enough to even try and find out.

Well, Kenny wasn’t gonna’ do nothin’ awful, though he couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t hurt the kid in some way. He knew himself too well for that.

“Are you gonna’ drown me now?” He hears that low, cracking rasp somewhere below him.

Kenny stops, glancin’ down.

Levi’s standin’ there, lookin’ up at him with those too big eyes in that wasted, skeletal face. Kid barely comes up to his fuckin’ knee. He looks at Kenny, stricken and resigned, and Kenny lets go of his wrist.

“No, I ain’t gonna’ drown ya! Don’t ya know when you’re bein’ fucked with?”

Levi just keeps starin’ up at him, and Kenny sneers, disgusted.

“Maybe you really are simple.” He mutters low, turnin’ away. “Well, come on. Ya can’t keep up, it ain’t my problem.”

He starts walkin’, and a moment later, he hears the kid’s bare feet slappin’ against the pavement as he tries to catch up.

Maybe this’d been a bad idea, Kenny thinks as he makes his way to the latest shithole he’d found to occupy. Keepin’ some kid around, even if it was his sister’s, was gonna’ be nothin’ but a pain in his ass. ‘Specially one as ratty and fucked up at this boy was.

Maybe he really should just drown the brat.

Ah… but he couldn’t do that. Just thinkin’ about it had Kenny feelin’ sick inside. Guts all twisted up when he imagined the poor bastard’s little face, scared outta’ his mind, cryin’ and pleadin’ not to die.

Fuck…

Kenny couldn’t do it to some poor kid.

He glances back, and sees the boy still struggling after him, his face bent toward the ground. He keeps stumbling, like his legs just can’t keep pace with what he want’s ‘em to do.

Kenny’s not surprised when the kid finally trips and goes crashin’ to his hands and knees.

He half expects the brat to start wailin’, the way he’s seen the little shits up on the surface start up when they hit the ground, screamin’ bloody murder for their mommy’s.

But Levi don’t make any kinda’ sound.

He sits there for a second, not movin’, before struggling back to his feet, and startin’ forward again.

Kenny can see his knees scrapped raw and bloody. Knows the boy’s palms are no doubt the same. It must hurt.

He frowns, shakin’ his head. ‘Least he wasn’t a whiner.

“You ever hold a knife, boy?” He asks as the kid nearly reaches him.

Levi stops, blinking up at him. As usual, he doesn’t answer.

“Tch. Here.”

Kenny pulls the blade he keeps in his hip holster, flippin’ it round and catchin’ it by its tip.

Levi’s eyes watch the motion, almost mesmerized, and Kenny smirks as he holds it out to him, handle-first.

The boy only stands there, starin’, like he don’t know what he’s supposed to do.

Kenny rolls his eyes.

“Take it, you dumb shit. I wanna’ see how you handle it.”

The kid’s hand shakes as he finally reaches out, bony fingers wrappin’ round the knife’s handle.

It looks absurdly oversized in the boy’s grasp, palm failing to come all the way round the circumference, the blade nearly big as his whole head. He stares at it like he don’t know what it is, holdin’ it up, his arm trembling with the weight.

“Well?” Kenny presses, a lick of annoyance uncurling in his chest.

Levi keeps lookin’ at the knife, liftin’ it higher, an almost fascinated look in his flat eyes.

But it’s plain as day the kid’s got no fuckin’ idea what to do with it, and finally Kenny snatches it back, Levi’s eyes goin’ wide at the suddenness of it, stumbling back, his backside hittin’ the dirt.

Kenny watches his face screw up in pain, those sores on his ass no doubt.

He huffs, turnin’ away and beginning back down the street.

He don’t know why he thought the kid would know how to handle a blade. He was too young, and Kuchel never did show the strength of the Ackerman bloodline. Skipped right over her like a stone over water. It only made sense, it would skip over her son too. Lookin’ at him, Kenny don’t know if the kid’ll even make it. If he’ll even survive past another year, another two. He’s weak and frail and pathetic. Smaller than he should be. By far smaller. He doubts he’ll ever get that strength.

It’s too bad, Kenny guesses.

Well… he could still try to learn the kid. If he ever found the strength, well then, maybe he’d survive. No skin off Kenny’s back, either way, he gathers.

The boy follows dutifully behind, somehow keepin’ sight of Kenny despite his refusal to slow, and pretty soon they’ve made it to the worn down shake Kenny’d found empty a few weeks back, deciding to take as his own.

“Alright, in ya go.” Kenny ushers the brat through the door.

He dumps his hat and coat on a worn out table he’d scrounged up someplace, before he goes about lighting the lanterns he’s got set up, washing the room in a low light.

The kid stands there in the middle of it, lookin’ lost and wide eyed as he gazes about. His tiny hands fidget nervously in the hem of his gown, unaware or unconcerned how he’s pulled it up past his hips. Kenny gets an eyeful of the boy’s penis and bloated out stomach. Malnurioushed. ‘Course he is.

Kenny shakes his head.

“Wait here. Don’t move from that spot.” He tells him, before headin’ back out. He’s got a big, wooden bucket hangin’ on a hook outside the front door, and he grabs it up before trudging off to a well about a quarter mile down the street. He fills the bucket with water and takes it back.

The kid ain’t moved, only sat down on his bottom in the same place Kenny’d left him, knees pulled up against his chest and arms round his legs. Just like how Kenny’d found him back in that brothel.

Kenny don’t say nothin’, just carries the bucket over and sets it on the ground.

The boy’s so small, he’ll fit in it, easy.

“Alright, get that fuckin’ rag off. Yer takin’ a bath.”

Levi looks up at him, bemused expression across his ugly little face, like he don’t understand what the hell Kenny’s just said.

“You’re god damned filthy.” Kenny snaps. “Go on, take that rag you got on off and get in the water.”

Kenny don’t know what the fuck it is he’s said, but suddenly the kid’s face breaks all apart, his lip trembling, eyes goin’ all wet and shit… shit… he’s cryin’all of a sudden.

“What? What the hell is it?!”

“I tried t-to keep clean. M-Mama… Mama told me it was… it was good. I tried, I cleaned every day. Every day. I tried, I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

The kid’s blubberin’ all over the place, a spew of words from his mouth that Kenny can’t make no damned sense of. All he knows is the kid’s freakin’ the fuck out, for some reason, and he’s got to get him to stop.

“Alright, alright, calm the hell down. Come on.” He tries, but the kid just keeps cryin’ and moanin’, somethin’ about Kuchel and keepin’ their room clean and Kenny’s about had it.

“HEY!” He screams, and the kid gasps, harsh and ragged, collapsing onto the floor and coverin’ his head with his arms like he’s sure Kenny’s gonna’ hit him. Well, he’d been about to, if he’s bein’ honest with himself. If the kid’d kept up that mewling, he was gonna’. But he’s gone quiet as a mouse now, sittin’ there with his face pressed to the dusty floorboards, shakin’ all over.

Kenny stares at him for a long moment, tryin’ to figure out what to do.

Damn, he ain’t used to this kinda’ shit. Normally anyone blubberin’ and carrying on like that in front of him just got a bullet to the brain, and that was that. But he couldn’t very well just off the kid. Not after he’d gone to all this trouble.

He flicks at his nose, tryin’ to think.

“Now you listen here, boy. None ‘a that sissy shit around here. You start cryin’ and hollerin’ like that again, all you’ll get for your trouble is a slap in the mouth. Ya hear?”

Levi nods frantically from where he’s still splayed on the floor.

Yeah, the kid’s taken plenty ‘a beatings, Kenny thinks.

He sighs, reachin’ down and haulin’ the boy to his feet. He don’t weigh shit.

“Come on already, get undressed and get in the bucket.”

The kid listens this time, and Kenny watches, a kind of gnawing pit formin’ in his gut as Levi strips, pullin’ the gown up over his head and revealin’ the most pitiful little body in the world.

He’s bruised all over, varying shades ranging from deep blacks and blues to mottled yellows and greens, washing over skin pale as milk. He’s sickeningly, painfully thin, arms and legs like sticks, shoulders pathetically narrow and bony. Every one of his ribs presses visible and awful against his skin, his chest a sunken, tragic nothing, little nipples hardly darker than the rest of him. His stomach stick out, round with bloating.

Kenny knows what starvation looks like.

The kid’s starvin’ to death. Another week alone in that room, and Kenny’s got no doubt he’d have been dead.

The kid looks up at him then, holdin’ the scrap ‘a cloth he’d been usin’ to cover himself in trembling fingers, wide, scared eyes uncertain.

Kenny rolls his eyes again.

“In the water, kid.”

He watches as the boy hesitates, head swiveling back and forth a moment, like he’s lookin’ for somethin’. And then he takes the rag in his hand and starts foldin’ it up, all neat like, before shufflin’ over to the table where Kenny’d dropped his coat and hat. The kid has to stand up on the tips of his toes to reach the surface, where he places his gown, before turnin’ and hobblin’ back over to the bucket.

His back’s just as bruised and hideous as the rest of him, shoulder blades juttin’ out like the peaks of mountains, every ridge of his spine a large, visible bump. He really ain’t more than skin and bones. And those bed sores Kenny’d spotted before, he’s gonna’ need to do somethin’ about those. Red, angry welts. A few of ‘em were seepin’ out puss too. Fuckin’ disgusting.

Kenny stares at him, watchin’ as he climbs in. Water sloshes over the edges as he lowers himself down.

The water comes up just beneath his chest, and he stares down at it like some kinda’ sad, kicked dog.

Kenny huffs, steppin’ forward. No use standin’ around, he guesses.

He reaches down, pullin’ a smaller blade from his boot, and sees the kid’s face lift.

For a moment, the dull, listless expression wipes away, and his eyes go wide with fear.

He recoils as Kenny takes another step closer, sloshin’ more water onto the floor, and Kenny pauses.

“What’s all that about?” He snaps, rollin’ his eyes. “I ain’t gonna’ do nothin’. That rats nest ya got on your head needs cuttin’, is all. You got lice, kid.”

That seems to get the boy to relax some, though he still watches Kenny with wary, mistrustful eyes as he closes the rest of the distance and kneels down.

“Now just hold still while I cut yer hair. Alright? You squirm around too much, and I might slip and slit yer throat.”

There’s those wide, frightened eyes again, and Kenny laughs to himself at how still the kid goes as he takes a big clump of gnarled and matted hair in a fist. Black as midnight, he thinks, just like Kuchel’s.

He shouldn’t think ‘a her now, though, Kenny reckons. Not ‘less he wants to get real mad. And Kenny knows himself. Knows when he gets mad like that, he’ll take it out on whoever’s most convenient. Right now, that’d be the kid, and Kenny ain’t too particularly wantin’ to lay his hands on the boy. Not when he’s already more skittish than a scared rabbit. Kenny hits him now, he figures, the kid’ll roll right up and never come out.

It’s hard, though, when he looks at Levi’s face, and sees Kuchel’s lookin’ right back. Even starved and wasted as the boy is, he looks just like her. Even his eyes. Those same, thin eyes, a blue so soft, they look more gray.

Shit…

A soft whimper pulls him outta’ his thoughts, and when he comes back to the present, he sees the kid tremblin’ in his grip, a sad, pitiful keen slippin’ past his dry, chapped lips.

“Whats’a matter?” Kenny grumbles. “Didn’t I tell ya to hold still?”

Levi don’t answer, his whole body shakin’ like a leaf, and Kenny realizes suddenly how hard he’s grippin’ the boy’s hair.

Well, fuck…

He loosens his hold.

“Hey, sorry ‘bout that. I got lost in my thoughts a minute. Ya know how it is, huh? I didn’t mean to hold ya so hard. Now quit that whimperin’. What are ya, a dog?”

Levi shakes his head, his face turnin’ away.

Jeez, but he’s a timid little bastard, Kenny thinks, frownin’. That kinda’ shit wouldn’t do. Not down here. Kid’d get eaten alive, if he kept on bein’ so wiltin’ like that.

“Now just hold still.” Kenny tells him again, and begins slicin’ through clumps of thick hair.

It takes a while, but Kenny eventually manages to get it trimmed down ‘till there’s nothin’ but a short fuzz coverin’ the kid’s noggin’. He even manages to stop tremblin’ so bad about halfway through, and Kenny thinks he almost feels proud ‘a the little sucker.

He rinses him off with just straight water after that, (ain’t got no soap), before pullin’ him from the makeshift tub.

“Feels better, huh?” He asks as he dries the kid off, rubbin’ him down with some old rags he had lyin’ around.

Levi nods, not sayin’ nothin’ otherwise.

Once Kenny’s through rubbin’ his head dry, the boy keeps liftin’ his hands and runnin’ his fingers through what’s left of his hair, seemin’ fascinated by the way it feels.

He looks even uglier with like this, Kenny thinks. Somehow even more skeletal.

“I ain’t got no clothes that’ll fit you ‘round here, so you’re just gonna’ have to keep yerself wrapped in this here blanket for now. Alright?”

Kenny hands him some worn out old thing he’d found stuffed in a drawer, ridden through with moth holes. He thinks it might’ve been a possession from his childhood with Kuchel. From before they were run off their land, their house engulfed in flames at their backs, gun shots peltin’ down into the earth around ‘em, loud, whizzing cracks in their ears.

He shakes his head of the memories, shakin’ the blanket when he realizes the boy still ain’t taken it.

Tiny hands finally reach back, fingers foldin’ into the offered material, and Kenny watches the kid struggle with its weight as he wraps it clumsily round his pitiful little body.

He regards the kid a moment longer.

“Alright, well, I gotta’ go out and get us some supplies. So you just stay here and I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t go runnin’ off nowhere while I’m gone. Not ‘less you wanna’ get yourself killed or picked off by some freaked out pervert. Ya hear?”

Levi nods, clutchin’ the blanket around him like his life depends on it, squattin’ there on the floor.

“If ya gotta’ take a piss or shit, there’s a bucket out through the back door there where ya can do your business. Don’t you go messin’ on the floor in here, or I’ll beat you upside your head. Got it?”

Another nod.

“Y-yes Sir.” He actually talks, voice nothin’ but a cracked whisper.

Kenny frowns.

“Don’t go callin’ me that. Kenny’s just fine.”

Again, the boy nods, and Kenny huffs.

“Alright, well… I’ll be seein’ ya.”

He turns to go.

“… Th… thank you.” He hears behind him, that weak, rasping voice.

He stops, lookin’ back over his shoulder, and sees Levi lookin’ up at him. His eyes too big for his face, overbright.

“Don’t go thankin’ me yet, boy. I ain’t gonna’ be soft on ya, if that’s what yer thinkin’.”

The kid’s head shakes no, and he falls back onto his bottom, curlin’ away.

Kenny sniffs, flickin’ at his nose.

“Good. Stay put and I’ll be back.”

He strides from the hovel he’s been shakin’ out in, slammin’ the door shut behind him, back out onto the streets.

Somethin’ ugly twists in his guts, then. An awful, sinking mire in his brain. The boy’s face in his eyes, wasted and tragic.

He thinks he wants to put his hands round the pathetic animal’s neck. Squeeze and squeeze and squeeze ‘till those sad eyes ‘a his pop right outta’ his skull.

Thinks what a rotten bastard he is, and somethin’ pained lances in his heart, a hideous weight.

The boy’s hurt seared into his mind.

#attack on titan fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #Levi Ackerman #Kenny Ackerman #fanfiction #fanfic

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter 20.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 6k Summary: flashback ten - also known as the final mission Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - graphic violence, minor character deaths, titan deaths, bloodshed, graphic depictions of injury, despair, peril

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER 20 - FLASHBACK: TEN

Eighty to forty.

Slashed in half.

On paper, the tactical statistics sound nothing short of a miracle.

In a division plagued by endless casualties, any hope of saving lives rather than destroying them should (and will) sanction blind approval from higher command.

For the commandant, for the king, for the people behind those Walls relying on this team to succeed in breaching the forest to pursue the mission of the Scout Regiment, it’s the best idea curated to date—

And it’s all thanks to Commander Erwin and his right-hand man, Captain Levi.

Levi Ackerman insists he can take on any Abnormal single-handedly.

Commander Erwin insists his Special Operations squad can and will find a way through the thick of it, once and for all.

A triumphant success for humanity, no matter the cost.

— but that was on paper.

When you wake, Levi isn’t beside you in your bed.

His disappearing act in the morning isn’t unusual nor is it disappointing.

By now you're used to waking up without him, though you only find yourself sleeping thanks to him.

(He's admitted that, if he doesn't slip out earlier than when you wake, then he may never leave.) 

Although your relationship is the worst kept secret within the Special Ops squad, it’s still just that:

A secret.

What is not a secret, however, is the trajectory of what’s to come.

Not every day in the regiment is a nightmare, but this is the type of day the average cadet dreads when they pledge their allegiance to the Survey Corps.

So you ready for the day with noticeable weight on your shoulders.

A determination to see this through.

A promise to show up for your fellow man.

(An oath to Levi that the two of you will make it out of this alive and see another sunrise.)

Today will be brutal, but you can prevail.

Stepping out of your quarters in full Scout gear, you hear the whinnies and whines of nearing horses as they gallop toward headquarters.

You fix the collar of your cropped tan jacket in time with your footsteps descending down the stairwell, mind elsewhere.

Bodies hurry in and out of the open front door. Gear clinks. Blades sheath.

“Lieutenant James!”

That voice belongs to no soul you know.

You stop dead in your tracks right in front of the open double doors. Turning to the sunlight, you raise a hand to shield the rays to locate who may have spoken your name.

Before you stands an entirely new group of Scouts that you’ve never seen before. Fresh-faced and determined, if not a little terrified — there is a large array of them standing around in a semicircle at the mouth of headquarters.

All adorn the Wings of Freedom.

All press their fist backwards to their heart, denting the emblem.

You realize some of their faces look familiar.

Albeit it was a brief stint as a cadet in the training corps, recognition flutters over your face as you spy some of the hopefuls that slept not so far from your bunk in the barracks.

It's been years. What were once youthful faces now age well before their time.

“Lieutenant, sir!”

The one in the center, a short-haired woman with glasses, barks once more.

“We’re pleased to make your acquaintance and to serve under the command of Humanity’s Strongest.”

At first you say nothing, dazed at the sheer number of this squad. 

Seven people hold steadily onto seven individual horses, their shoulders shrouded by emerald green cloaks. Some keep their hoods adorned to the crowns of their heads. Others bare their nervous but brave faces to you.

“At ease,” you murmur, and they lower their fists. “I wasn’t aware another squad was joining us this morning.”

“Miro Squad, sir, at your service,” the short-haired person greets, bowing. “I received Commander Erwin’s urgent letter for additional soldiers in the pursuit of breaching the forest.”

They take a half-step back and gestures to their team, pointing out every soul on their squad.

Miro, their leader; Trina, their second-in-command with wild fiery hair; and Scouts Orin, Max, Penelope, Cesca, and Rini.

Seven additional Scouts.

Fourteen Scouts in full for this Hail Mary of a mission.

Then it hits:

Proposing half of the original projected damage was bold, even for someone as shameless as Commander Erwin.

He had no qualms with setting this mission up with the new layout provided by Levi, ensuring as much of an air-tight plan as possible.

Eighty to forty percent is nothing short of a miracle.

But miracles do not exist in the Scouts.

Your stomach drops into the dirt with the sickening realization of what Commander Erwin’s grandiose solution really meant.

Miro Squad is the forty percent reduction.

A cruel and inhumane buffer of surefire casualties in order to keep the Special Ops squad intact during the breach.

You’re staring at a group of devoured bodies before you even reach the trees.

“It’s…”

You struggle with your words before slamming your backward fist to your heart, raising your chin.

Some of the younger Scouts stare in awe at your blatant display of honor.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Miro Squad.” 

You bow, though you feel dirty for doing so.

“I trust Commander Erwin made you aware of today’s efforts?”

Miro nods. “We intend to serve however we can.”

They don’t know.

They need to know.

They need to make an informed decision before—

“Lieutenant,” a deep voice sounds behind you, and your skin crawls.

Turning your chin, you stare eye to eye with the blue-eyed man boring down on you.

Commander Erwin appears somber.

Stoic.

“Yes, Commander?”

The question is small, but it drips with a knowing venom.

Erwin is not fazed. “Captain Levi is tending to the horses at the stables. Can you aid him in preparation before departure?”

To you, you conjure what appears to be a clear answer woven between the lines:

Do not interfere. Do not disobey.

You hold rank to an extent in the Scouts, but what the Commander says, goes.

Continuing to hold his icy blue stare, you try to convey the question you cannot say out loud.

(Do they know what is about to happen?)

Erwin continues to stare right back, not the least bit fazed by the conflict in your brow.

He is confident. He is headstrong.

An answer.

They're going to dedicate their hearts.

(Just like you, too, promised years ago.)

Without another word, you turn on a heel and beeline straight to the stables.

Anger.

Why do you feel so much anger?

Is it because the outcome feels bleak well before mission has started?

Are the odds truly this stacked against humanity?

When you reach the parted doors of the stables, he's there — Levi Ackerman stands in front of his black stallion, gliding a gentle hand down its muzzle.

He senses your presence well before you even say a word.

He turns easily to you, but his eyes sharpen a fraction when he picks up how pinched your shoulders are.

“James,” he greets neutrally, brow knitting. “What’s—”

“Miro Squad just showed up.”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you snip, making your way to your own horse — she has a white coat with speckled gray spots all along her body.

She makes a small chortle noise when you near and you serve your flattened palm to her for a nuzzle.

(Behind the pen doors, you note she already has her gear in place. Levi must have already saddled her up for you while you were getting ready.)

The dark-haired man to your left sighs in a huff. 

“Not playing dumb, James. I was genuinely asking.”

“It’s the squad Erwin’s setting up for slaughter,” you decide to elaborate hotly.

A pause passes.

You don't turn to see Levi's expression, but you can sense how tense the space between the two of you has become.

“If it’s Miro Squad he called to action, then they’ve fared well in comparison to the other squadrons," he argues with little fire. "Did he personally request them?"

"Allegedly."

"Allegedly?" Levi repeats, sharper in tone. "Either he did or he didn't."

"According to Miro, yes, he sent an urgent letter requesting aid."

Finally you turn a cheek towards him, forcing your eyes to meet.

You know that look he gives you sidelong. 

Don’t start.

(Neither of you need to fight again, not before this mission.)

"Then Erwin didn't pick a random crop of Scouts to shit the bed and die on us," Levi reasons, softer. Conspiratorial. "I know you think he’s a bastard, but—”

“Worst case scenario,” you interrupt, “at least his Special Ops team won’t die?”

“If my strategy goes well, then no one dies." He counters with the certainty that’s entirely Levi. “You forget my name is on the damn ledger, too, unless this is you trying to tell me something.”

White-hot embarrassment courses your veins as your childhood friend waits for you to challenge his statement — to call him an equal-part premeditated murderer sat right beside the commander.

You can’t.

You won’t.

Instead you cool off by slowly petting your horse, willing your bad feeling to wither away.

After a moment, Levi wills his voice to soften again. “We need as many Scouts as we can—”

“I know.”

“—and even then, if we all kick the bucket, it's on me."

Levi finishes with a heavy sigh. He turns away, dropping his chin to his chest.

“I'll take whatever punishment fits the crime if it goes to shit."

A beat passes.

Blinking several times, you turn your body to him and drop the attitude.

“...and I'll do everything in my power to make sure we stay alive," you whisper softly. "That everyone comes home."

Levi’s head hangs, cascading his wispy black hair as a curtain over his face.

“That's not supposed to be your burden."

"Where you go, I go, remember?" you tell him. "For better or worse, I don't care."

"Wanna workshop vows, huh?" he mumbles. "Right now?"

This seems to ease the air about the stables.

Centimeter by centimeter, twin pairs of shoulders release in their tension.

You can't help but smile, even if the moment is tense.

"I think the Commander would find the dramatics funny."

"Oh, sure, proposing to your ass right before the single-biggest mission in Scout history would really tickle his funny bone," he sarcastically replies.

"It'd sure tickle Hange's."

"Hange doesn't need more ammunition, not after catching our asses that one time—"

"That one time that was your fault, you mean?" You grin as he glares. Still, his scowl is playful. "Loud Mouth Ackerman—"

"Shut up, Lieutenant."

Levi lets go of his horse and raises his hand, palm outstretched.

“Get the hell over here before anyone catches us a second time, alright?”

Albeit small, he smiles.

It's forced, like he wants to remember this — to focus on this.

The final moments before the point of no return.

Like a moth to a flame, you step away from your horse to step towards the short, dark-haired man.

Once you’re close enough, he pulls you in from the nape of your neck and drags your forehead to his, pressing them together.

His eyes squeeze shut.

You stare, memorizing his face.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “Don’t die.”

All the anger in your body melts away.

“I love you, too,” you reply just as softly. “I won’t—”

The stable door creaks.

You leap off of the captain to pretend like you’re picking up the bucket of water at his boots.

Levi stays put, dropping his arm like dead weight.

“Captain. Lieutenant.”

You don’t need to see the face to know it’s Erwin’s voice echoing through the stables.

“It’s time to move out.”

You both reply in unison, two different octaves.

“Yes, sir.”

.

.

.

.

.

The formation is simple:

Captain Levi leads the charge into the forbidden forest with Lieutenant James at his side.

Behind them in a diamond formation are the Special Operation Scouts Petra, Oluo, Gunther, and Eld.

Command Erwin, Section Commander Hange, and Moblit remain at headquarters for the recon and debrief.

At the rear of the formation are Miro Squad to specifically call out nearing and flanking titans that the first squad may miss.

They shadow the Special Operations unit as back-ups, no matter the cost.

And at first? It's easy.

Deceiving easy.

The mouth of the forest gives little trouble.

Both squadrons of Scouts breach the thick grove of towering trees without incident.

Thirty minutes into this mission, in the belly of this beast, not a single Abnormal has been spotted.

There aren't any typical titans, either.

It’s quiet.

Serene.

“Alright, listen up!”

With his hands tightly wound around leather reigns, Captain Levi finally calls to the Scouts behind him.

“Keep your eyes peeled. Abnormals do not move like other titans. These shitheads can be fast and appear at a moment’s notice.”

“Right!” Several of the Miro squad shouts back.

The Special Operations squad is too focused to reply.

Whenever you glance over at Levi, he’s smooth as stone. 

He refuses to allow any emotion cloud his judgment on a mission, and you can imagine it won’t be any different this go-around.

Because this mission cannot fail.

The Scouts must push forward, no matter the cost.

(Even if the irrevocable cost makes you sick to your stomach.)

The sun shines bright over a canopy of trees.

Your cloak is too warm in this type of weather.

As you push further into the thick of the terrain, nearing what is assumed to be the halfway point of the forest, birds chirp less and less.

Eerie silence overtakes the pounding of hooves into the dirt.

Then, as fast as an inhale, you see it:

Directly ahead trudges a nine-meter titan, peering around a thick tree trunk.

"Captain!" Gunther shouts. "Ahead at our twelve!"

"I see the piece of shit," Levi calls back. "We keep moving. I'll take care of it."

You don't doubt that he will.

As it continues to slowly advance on your formation, you can tell the team is a little more tense.

Ready — 

Except no one was prepared, not really.

The titan ahead is an army of one, but it is not the only titan here.

It was just the only one right in front of you.

Behind you sounds a scream so bloodcurdling that you nearly lock up on your horse.

You turn despite yourself.

Within seconds, you see Max get ripped clear off of his horse with the sheer force of otherworldly strength.

(...a hand?)

Then, a gust of wind sweeps and swirls the dirt into a lackluster tornado.

His horse narrowly escapes.

It rolls over and over, kicking up a thick dust cloud.

Max speeds through the air at breakneck speed like a human arrow —

Until he abruptly crashes into a thick tree trunk, dislocating his spine from his head.

The crunch is like ripping a stalk of ripe lettuce in half.

He simply crumples against the tree, limbs peacefully blowing in the wind like a leaf.

His Scout cloak billows over his shocked face, forever frozen in belated surprise.

Gone.

Just like that.

Then from the shadows, as if waiting for its prey, a five-meter titan stumbles around a tree to chomp on the recently deceased body.

It gnaws off his legs as they dangle in the air, spattering blood all over the forest floor.

Your horse gallops on.

You can't look away.

Then someone screams, forcing your eyes to rip away from the horror.

“Cesca!” A blonde girl shrieks to the right of the formation — Penelope, you think her name is. “Don’t!”

“It's devouring him!” Cesca wails at the top of her lungs. “We have to go back for him!”

“He’s already dead!” Trina calls with experienced calm. “There's no use, soldiers! Keep your eyes forward. We keep moving!”

“James—”

Your head turns when Levi calls to you.

Wide eyes meet a narrowed gaze.

“—that means you, too.”

Your eyes round with the realization that everything is happening so fast yet moving in slow motion.

What was that thing?

Was that a... ?

You were so busy watching Max get eaten that you didn’t realize three more titans appeared on the northeast corner, awakened by the screams of Miro Squad.

Shit.

This isn’t good.

This is not good.

“Levi,” you begin slowly, but he shakes his head.

"Don't hesitate. We push forward no matter what."

He's right.

Max is dead.

You just have to hope the rest of Miro squad keeps their wits about them.

You turn your head to make eye contact with Miro.

“Faster!”

“Roger, Lieutenant,” Miro tells you before shouting to their team. “Keep going, Scouts! We should be halfway through the clearing.”

“Miro,” Trina alerts them sharply, "three more titans are crowding from the right."

“Shit, what does that make it now? Seven of them!?” Miro hisses.

(Seven?)

Your eyes connect with Petra who appears equal parts shocked at just how quickly this mission has dissolved.

“I— there's a whole bunch of them in the back!”

Penelope calls frantically, staring behind her.

"They're surrounding us!"

Three to the east.

Another three to the northwest.

A couple to the south, and another...

Something entirely unlike anything you'd ever seen before.

“Captain, we’re going to need to ditch the horses,” you tell Levi in a hushed voice.

“Not yet,” he replies, smooth and certain.

“Not yet?" you repeat. "Levi, we have an entire army of goddamn titans on our—”

“I said not yet,” he coolly bites. “I’ll handle them.”

You know he will.

You just don’t want him to go up against them on his own.

Suddenly someone from the right side of the formation ignites their ODM gear, and they swoop overhead.

Blonde hair whooshes straight by the team and into the forest thick.

Penelope is the first to pull the trigger.

“I’m gonna get ahead of the curve and attack!” she calls, zipping through the trees towards some of the smaller titans.

Levi says nothing, but Miro shouts to their own squad: 

“That wasn’t the plan! Damn it, Penelope!”

Her body rounds one of the tree trunks and heads right, disappearing.

Say something.

Say anything.

If that thing that killed Max is how an Abnormal moves, then Penelope doesn't stand a chance on her own.

You speak to him again. "Captain—”

“Not yet, James.”

“Penelope is going to get killed!” you argue, your grip on the reigns tightening.

“That’s the choice she made,” Captain Levi argues in return, sounding a little too much like Commander Erwin in the moment. “Remain steady and wait for my signal.”

Twigs fold and crackle under new weight to your right.

Then a thud shakes the straight through the horses and into you.

Penelope must have taken down at least one normal titan.

“Captain!”

Miro shouts in the middle of the squad.

“Should we engage? My squad can take care of the titans and carve a path forward!”

There is a tense, pregnant pause.

Everyone waits for Levi's instruction.

Two smaller titans walk directly towards the horses.

The dark-haired man's nostrils flare with decision.

“I’m going to take down the two ahead,” Levi shouts, effortlessly swinging a boot to the saddle of his horse.

With the muscles of his thigh he pushes until both boots are surfing against his running horse.

His black hair blows wildly in the wind. Like a well-oiled machine, he pushes back his cloaks to reveal his ODM gear, readying for deployment.

"Miro, take your squad and eliminate the enemies flanking us. You can come back to us once you're finished."

“What about the rest of us, sir?” calls Oluo.

Levi’s eyes narrow at the enemies ahead.

“My squad will keep the horses going. We need to make it to the end of this forest, for humanity's sake."

"And Captain, what about Penelope?" you quickly ask.

"She's a lost cause, Lieutenant."

He speaks with that coldness he's been forced to adopt ever since your days in the Underground.

"We can't go back for her."

You turn to watch as Miro squad disengages formation and turns around, charging bravely towards the crowd of titans forming behind.

An array of shapes and sizes await their swords.

(Or their flesh.)

Any minute now and it could be a bloodbath.

Any minute—

Levi flies off of his horse, trapezing through the trees.

A gas trail from how hard his gear is working is your only indicator for where he is at such a height.

He twirls with the shine of his unsheathed swords, slashing the napes of the two large titans ahead.

A victory.

Except it's a short-lived victory, because you hear it behind you— 

Miro squad.

They're in trouble.

Even from this distances you hear Cesca, Rini, and Orin scream and panic.

Scouts fly between tree branches with smoke trailing behind. ODM gear ignites and retracts without any real clear sense of direction.

They're drowning back there.

You see the silhouette of someone falling to the forest floor.

"One of us needs to help them," you tell Eld, and he shakes his head sharply.

"You heard Captain Levi."

"They're two fucking Scouts down, Eld!" you snap at your comrade. "We'll lose seven whole people!"

"We can't go against captain's orders, Lieutenant!" Petra calls to you, and Oluo nods beside her.

Scanning your squad still soldiering ahead with the plan, you feel something grip your heart.

Yet another gut-wrenching shriek sounds from the forest.

Maybe it's Penelope.

Maybe it's Cesca.

The voices reverberate and echo through the forest that it's hard to tell.

You don't even realize that you're moving your hands over your cloak to push it out of the way.

Eighty to forty.

"The hell are you doing!?"

The clipped tone of Levi Ackerman as he drops back onto his stallion rips you back into focus.

His knee drops to the saddle, facing his soldiers rather than what's ahead.

Your eyes meet narrowed gray.

"I can help," you tell him calmly. "They're going to die."

"Stay."

"They're going to die, Le—"

"Stay, Lieutenant." Levi's nostril's flare. "That's an order."

Miro squad's screams continue to haunt your subconscious.

You promised.

You said you'd stay by his side.

But isn't this what the Scout Regiment is for?

To save humanity, to give them hope.

It used to be something you felt was such a crock of shit, but you can't ignore the screams back there.

You can't let them die.

"I'm going to help them," you tell him without a tremor. "You know I can do it."

Levi's eyes flash with an indiscernible emotion.

"We'll all come back in one piece. I'll guide them to the horses."

"No."

"And we'll make it to the end of this fucking forest."

You stare back at him, pleading a forgiveness you haven't asked for yet.

(You saved me once. Let me save them.)

"If you go," he growls, "James, if you go, I'll—"

"I'll take whatever punishment fits my crime," you cut him off, "but I can't let them all die."

His pupils shrink, sharpening the whites of his eyes.

The wheeze of ODM gear bursts into life as it lifts you off of your saddle and into the forest sky.

Without thinking, you twist at the hip and take off—

You head south towards the screaming squad as they fight to break free from the titan hoard holding them hostage.

Wind freezes your cheeks.

The outlines of their bodies grow more pronounced the closer you become.

Soon you see five Scouts flying around, swinging their swords to destroy the last remaining titan.

Below are a cluster of smaller dead ones decaying by the second.

Trina, Miro's second-in-command, screams at the top of her lungs as she reaches out to her comrades.

"Help! Please, I don't want to be eaten! Please!"

She's stuck in the clutches of a ten-meter titan, slowly bringing her closer and closer to its open mouth.

They’re everywhere.

(How did everything go so wrong so fast?)

You don't think about dying. You don't worry about how upset Levi will be when you return. You don't stop to second guess your actions. 

You don’t.

You just do.

Yelling at the top of your lungs, you rip both blades from their metallic sheaths at your hips.

Spinning from the momentum of your swing, you slice straight through the wrist of the titan holding Trina hostage.

She falls with enough smarts to break her fall with her own gear.

“James!” Trina cries out with equal parts despair and relief. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you were all okay," you tell them, shaking your head. "I guess you didn't really need back-up. We still have your horses..."

But you trail off, confused.

They should be relieved.

They killed every last titan back here.

Yet the Miro squad cling to the trees, skin as translucent as ghosts.

"Something big ate Penelope!" Cesca sobs, swinging her sword frantically to keep invisible outstretched fingers at bay. Her eyes are a window to nothing. As if she's curled into herself as she screams to you. "You need to—"

You're about to ask what the hell she's talking about.

But then you see it:

Climbing.

No, crawling through the trees, running like a rabid dog through the branches to eye up its prey.

A titan.

In comparison to other titans, it's practically a sun spot.

And it's so fast.

Eleven meters tall. Maybe thirteen.

You can't tell when its crouched like that.

Deformed.

Curled in on itself.

Then it halts when it sees you, blocking you from the rest of Miro squad.

A chill runs up your spine.

You stop to balance against the side of a tree trunk, staring face-to-face with your first Abnormal.

Its grin is something straight out a nightmare.

Its eyes track you, as if it...

As if it hopes you’ll flinch and begin the chase.

Shit.

You can't get around it.

You're stuck here — but the other five aren't.

“Trina, Miro, find Captain Levi,” you force yourself to speak, unable to look away from the Abnormal. “Take your squad north. Tell them you found an Abnormal."

“But—”

“I said go north, damn it,” you growl, clenching your teeth.

"What about you?" Miro asks.

“I'll be right behind you," you promise, though you damn well know you can't run straight through with your gear.

Why isn’t this titan attacking you?

Is it just waiting for you to run first?

Dedicate your heart.

No — this thing isn't going to kill you.

Max is dead. Penelope is dead.

But you came just in time to save five others.

You can save them, yourself, and this mission.

No, you won't die.

Not today.

“Go!”

Shouting at the top of your lungs, the Abnormal finally dives to attack you. 

Only when you swing past it do you realize it was waiting — not for you, no, but for an eight-meter and ten-meter with blood all over its mouth to catch up.

Not one, but three Abnormals.

Shit.

Miro and Trina gather Orin, Cesca, and Rini.

All five swing through the trees back towards where you just came from.

In the meantime, you exhaust your efforts through intense ODM defensive maneuvers to avoid getting caught in the clutches — or teeth — of the three titans.

They chase after you, using the trees to their advantage.

It's no use.

You can't outrun all three.

So you'll have to fight these assholes to find a way out.

Turning abruptly, you side-step the lurching ten-meter reaching out towards you.

With a battle cry from the gut, you scream and slice straight through the nape of its neck. 

Steam emits as it gurgles and stumbles, effectively dying on the forest floor.

One down.

Three to go.

You set your sights on the smaller titan first, gliding and sliding through the trees.

(The eleven-meter titan will be your greatest problem. You choose to make it your final priority.)

When you flip in the air, crown pointed to the ground and feet in the air, you can no longer see the bodies of Miro squad.

Only a faint trail of their gas fumes linger.

It’s just you, and the things that want to kill you.

But you won't die today.

No, you are not dying in this fucking forest.

Because you promised him.

Skating across a large tree trunk, you swan dive in the air and reattach your gear to opposite tree trunks, sights locked on the eight-meter titan.

The eight-meter monster stares directly at you, but you use its shoulder to lodge your spike directly into its flesh.

The momentum of the swing offers enough brutality to effectively rip into the nape of its neck, causing titan blood to splatter all over your body.

It stumbles, falling to the forest floor. You remain perched on its shoulder, sword extended.

Two down.

You can do this.

You can finish these titans off and meet up with the team before the mission is over.

It isn’t a lost cause.

Determined to see it through, you turn on the heel of your boot—

With a might crack of its arm, the eleven-meter knocks you clear off of the eight-meter’s shoulder and straight into the tree your gear is already attached to.

Your head hits.

The world turns into stars right before your eyes.

And before you can find yours wits and attack back—

Its fiery palm seizes your body from the tree trunk and squeezes.

The momentum nearly rips your spine in half when the Abnormal grabs you.

You gasp for air, knocked clear from your lungs.

Because you didn’t disengage your ODM line latched into the nearby tree, the sheer force of its grip on you bends your gear, forcing you to ragdoll between the points.

Shit.

The grapple of your gear won’t budge.

It won’t detract. 

The jerking movements between the manhandling of the Abnormal and your jammed gear create a perfect storm of injuries.

Pops and crunches trickle up your body, breaking bones upon bones upon bones—

You see white. 

The titan cannot get you loose from the tree, and you cannot get loose from it, so you act on pure instinct — with what little strength you have left, it stretches out and around to swipe your sword through the titans hand, narrowly missing your own chest.

One chance, and you took it.

Because not only did the sword cut through the titan, but it split the ODM line keeping you eleven meters in the air.

When you realize you can’t even breathe when the titan lets you go, you know what’s coming.

Weightless and numb of your own pain, you can feel the wind on your face, but your lungs refuse to expand.

They’re trapped from a cracked rib, and you’re out of time.

Something as bittersweet as foolish bravery crawls through your skin, burning it alive:

No one is coming.

You told Miro squad to run.

You defied orders.

—but you promised Levi you wouldn’t die.

(Is this the end of all things, right here?)

The screams and shouts echoing through your mind are not of Levi and Miro squad, no, but of your lost comrades — the ones who experienced the very same hopeless, fleeting feeling of fear right before they went.

You think of ash-blonde hair. Ginger locks.

Were Furlan and Isobel afraid?

When they couldn’t survive the Scouts, when they fought titans, did they look up at the sky just like you?

Did they know it was the end?

Were they worried they disappointed Levi?

Did they think of you, too, the way you're thinking about them?

Would they hate you for what you've done to Levi?

Four pairs of hopeful eyes walked up those Underground City stairs and into this world, yet only one will remain.

I promised.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

No screams.

No sobs.

You reach for the branches, watching the glittering sun through the canopy of trees, but you cannot touch them.

There is nothing you can do.

I’m sorry.

You continue to reach for the sky like you’ll catch on something without strength.

Your adrenaline-addled mind runs through so many memories—

The fighting rings of the Underground City;

The dream of leaving this place;

The feeling of the sun on bare skin;

Him.

Levi Ackerman.

Captain of the Scout Regiment. Humanity’s Strongest.

Your best friend.

The love of your life.

The boy who saved you, over and over, until—

“James!”

Suddenly your body reacts with a pained, strangled gasp.

The beauty of the sun disappears when a dark, oval silhouette overtakes it.

A brilliant shimmer of emerald billows around it.

It twirls and slashes the nape of the eleven-meters neck before pivoting south.

Towards you.

The silhouette nears at supernatural speeds, a trail of gas zipping in its wake—

It’s a man.

His gaze is overtaken by the whites of his eyes.

With how fast he’s descending from the tree tops, it’s a miracle he ducks and dodges every rogue branch.

His black hair is pinned to the sides of his head. The terror is written all over his face.

That face…

Levi.

You can’t speak, but you instinctively reach for his hand.

He grits his teeth, willing his body to fall faster. He breaks a barrier and soars closer to your orbit.

“Stay with me!” Levi shouts, voice determined and strong. “I’ll catch you!”

But you’ve been falling for what feels like hours, and he’s caught you so many times in the past.

When you struggled with ODM gear training, Levi would be the one to spot your fall. Every time, without failure.

But it wasn't his duty to catch you.

It wasn't his duty to come back for you.

He reaches out a hand, teeth clenched, but his fingertips just barely miss yours.

"Shit. C'mon, James, reach!"

He's getting desperate.

You've never seen him desperate.

The ground must be close.

Is it close?

(I’m sorry.)

You wish you could tell him. 

You wish you had the strength, the breath, to do so. 

(I'm sorry.)

You failed him.

You didn’t listen.

You should have listened.

With what little strength is left in your both, you roll your shoulder forward to send your hand towards his.

Your fingertips touch again, but he can’t quite grasp you. 

(But then so many others would have died. An entire squad of seven in a formation of fourteen instead of just three. Isn’t that what the Scouts are supposed to fight for, Levi? Isn’t that why we work so damn hard to achieve this dream for humanity?)

His breath hitches.

His eyes explode.

Because he knows what’s coming, too.

“James!”

A sorrowful breath that should be his name exits your mouth.

(Levi, I’m so sorry. I love—)

The back of your head slams into the ground.

A sickening thud.

A lost gasp of air.

The world goes black.

.

.

.

.

.

  Why did you do it?

Do what?

.

.

.

.

.

  “James!”

A baritone voice shouts your name.

It’s guttural, echoing with desperation. Fear.

.

.

.

.

.

  You gave me a second chance.

.

.

.

.

.

  The man dives through the trees at an otherworldly pace.

Arms pressed tight to his sides, he expertly zig-zags through an array of branches, propelling his body forward.

His emerald cloak billows from behind in an angelic halo.

As he nears, you can make out the whites of his widened eyes.

Instinctively, your hand reaches for him—

A certain sort of deja vu—

Then it hits.

.

.

.

.

.   Because where you go, I follow.

.

.

.

.

.

  Something heavy crashes straight into your body.

Two strong arms envelope you.

A palm cradles the back of your head.

Metallic gear wheezes, straining against its mechanics when your side hits solid ground.

Over and over, you spin at lightning speed.

Whatever holds you does not let go.

— then you collide with something solid, and everything just stops.

Silence.

Dirt kicks up around you in a cloud.

Twin hearts beat against each other.

Slowly you raise your hand to your shoulder—

Reaching— 

Until you find his hand.

Your shaking fingers curl over his.

.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x female reader #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #aot fic #snk fic #snk fanfic #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fic #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fic #levi x you #levi x reader #silver underground #amywritesthings

[toadontoadstool]

Synopsis: Armin is a pretty boy with a pretty cock.

Warnings: Blowjob, description of his cock, he calls you baby, that's it!

Notes: This is an x reader but y/n isn't used.

This is my first time writing smut so I'm sorry if it isn't that good!

Armin is such a pretty boy. He also has a pretty cock. His tip is a pretty pink colour #f1b0af and you just want to smother it with kitten licks. He's a perfect 6,5 inches in length with a 5 inch girth.

You just love to give Armin blowjobs. His pretty blue eyes watch you with lust as you lightly stroke his shaft. You rub your thumb over his slit smudging the pre to lubricate him. He tosses his head back and groans as you tighten your grip and start rubbing faster. You use your other hand to fondle his balls. When he starts to twitch you take your hands off and welcome him into your mouth.

He whimpers as you take him all the way into the back of your throat. You gag slightly and he strokes your face with his hand before he moves it up to the back of your head to guide you slowly up and down his cock. "F-fuck baby~ .. just like that.. " he whimpers out as you take him to the hilt.

You moan looking up at him with tears pricking in your eyes. He moans loudly at the vibrations in your throat and pushes you head down as he spurts hot ropes of his thick creamy cum into your throat. You pull off of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. You open you mouth to show him you swallowed and he groans pulling you up to straddle and kiss him. "You did so good for me baby, let me return the favor~.. "

Masterlist

#aot #attack on titan #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin smut #attack on titan fanfic #aot x reader #first smut #banner by cafekitsune

[wing-ed-thing]

Marriage Pact (Erwin x Reader) Part II

Synopsis: To the surprise of the cadets, Commander Erwin is married to more than just his work. Their curiosity brings up fond memories of your and Erwin’s early days in the scouts.

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags/Warnings: Language, No Reader Pronouns, Fluff, Marriage Pacts, 104th Cadet Corps Shenanigans

Part I Part II Part III

Notes: It's heeeeeeeeeereeeeeeee

He woke you up the morning of your expedition before the sun rose, gently shaking you awake where you had slouched over. It took a few blinks to remember where you were and the night of drinking, games, and stories you orchestrated the night prior. You sat up with a yawn, back cracking in the multiple places where your makeshift mat of seat cushions hadn’t been kind to you. Erwin knelt on one knee in front of you, his frame outlined in the dark blue hue of the early sky that trickled in through the tall windows. He spoke softly about getting everyone up to prepare to head out.

Hange remained curled up in your lap with their arms wrapped around your leg. 

Erwin’s cloak draped over your shoulders and enveloped your form. You wouldn’t even remember you were wearing it until you stopped by your quarters to change into your full uniform. Unable to catch him in the chaos of the expedition prep, you left it hanging up near his horse. 

He hadn’t even asked for it back, nor did he bring up your agreement from the night before.

***

“Like… the captain in the Garrison?” Eren chewed his bread thoughtfully, betraying an otherwise bored expression. Jean leaned forward to gauge everyone's expressions around the table. His face fell as everyone seemed to busy themselves with their mundane meals. Jean’s brows knitted together as a severe pout tugged at his lips.

“Yeah…?” He glanced at Eren, who didn’t meet his eye, before surveying the table again. He repeated your rank and name, stressing each syllable. Jean waved a palm in the air. “Hello? I thought you guys would be more invested in this.” A wave of silent hums and acute cringes spread throughout the gathered cadets. Jean sputtered, throwing his hands up in disbelief. “What?”

“I mean…” Armin started, staring off into the grains of the wooden table. “It makes some professional sense.”

“Armin—”

“Really, Armin?”

“Stop.”

The few low hisses circling around the table made Armin bow back toward his meal. Jean blinked, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming. 

“What is with you guys?” Jean exclaimed, slapping away Sasha’s hand, which was slowly creeping onto his plate. His mouth opened and closed as a croaking sound stalled in his throat. While everyone ate as usual, Bertholdt was unfortunate enough to meet Jean’s crazed expression. He gulped, quickly shoving a spoonful of stew in his mouth. “Really, Bertholdt?”

“Jean,” Reiner swiveled in his seat with a roll of his eyes and a heave of his shoulders. He breathed out a sigh, letting his spoon hit his plate. Reiner hand waved once assertively in the air in front of Jean’s face. “It’s just not believable.”

“The commander’s initials were literally on the bouquet.”

“No way is Erwin sending roses to a government office,” Eren interjected as if stating the obvious. He blew a few strands of his bangs away from his face, hardly looking at the rest of the group as he tried to play off his clearly piqued interest. “No way Erwin’s sending flowers at all.” 

“Damn, Jean, get a grip,” Connie muttered, elbowing Jean in the side. 

“Did I mention that his initials were on the card?” Jean swatted at Connie’s arm, the two briefly engaging in a battle of swats and slaps before Jean turned to the table with a determined fervor. He held one hand planted on Connie’s cheek, keeping himself out of range of Connie’s attempted slaps. “And they used to be section commanders together. There is quite literally a picture of them framed in the captain’s office.” He pointed confidently off in the vague direction of Garrison headquarters.

“There is?” Mikasa muttered, her forehead knitting together slightly as she cocked her head to the side. She pinched her chin between her fingers in thought. “Huh, I always just focused on the tea cart.”

“We all focus on the tea cart! And the snacks that are sometimes also there!” Reiner asserted, slapping the table, causing the dishes to clatter. He crossed his arms with a disappointed shake of his head. “Psh, everyone knows that. That’s why running paperwork to the Garrison is the best job you could get assigned. I’d fight a man to be able to sit in a cushy room drinking tea for an hour. It’s like getting a paid break to sit with a— a, uh—” He held his clenched fingers up to his lips as he searched for the word, nose scrunching. —“A wise tree.” Reiner’s hand opened emphatically to accent the phrase.

“I have fought a man for gopher duty!” Sasha barked, food still in her mouth. “And when I got there, I got extra sugar and that really expensive bruise ointment—”

— “Oh shit, really? That’s where you got that from?” Ymir blinked from the other end of the table. “That stuff is really nice.”

“And I got to keep it!”

Jean huffed, sitting straight to cross his arms with a stuck-up nose. 

“Look at the shelf on the opposite side of the desk the next time you’re there because I guarantee you that ointment was paid for by a commander’s salary.” He struck a fist into his opposite hand. His determination to be right had hardly been extinguished. 

“Let’s go now.”

Jean’s eyes snapped wide open. 

“What?” The others were already beginning to stand. Jean’s gaze darted to each of them as everyone began to gather their jackets and pick up their plates. A decision had apparently been made silently and without him. “You want to break into Garrison headquarters?”

Eren paused, his uniform jacket slung over his shoulder. He offered Jean an absentminded shrug.

“It’s not breaking in. We’re scouting. Surveying, if you will.” He left Jean alone at the cafeteria table to turn in his dishes. Jean noticed after a beat, immediately scooping up his dishware to follow the group.

“You’re kidding! I thought everyone wasn’t interested!”

***

A priest came to the Survey Corps hospital the morning after the expedition. You gathered a bouquet of flowers from a shrub in the courtyard for Murray and sat in attendance as she and Owens were married right there in the hospital. Wrapped up in bandages with missing limbs and bleeding wounds, they tearfully exchanged vows before succumbing to their injuries. You sat with them as a witness to their union until they were pronounced dead. 

Both of them served under your command, after all. You thought you owed it to them.

You would be given their death notices to sign off on a day later. 

You updated Murray’s certificate to “Owens” and sat at your desk, staring at the twin pages before you. Murray’s last name had been carefully blotted out in your correction, leaving her new name slightly bumpy. There were three spaces at the bottom labeled in smaller writing: one for the medical examiner’s signature (if applicable), one for the section commander, and one for the commander. The notice was written on quality paper, and from a quick glance, you would have guessed that the page was for an award rather than a certificate of death.

A light tapping broke you from your thoughts. Erwin stood in your doorframe. 

“Am I interrupting?” 

You almost jumped, face rising from where it had rested against your palm. A single, intense palpitation shot through your chest at the sight of him. He was as neat and put-together as always, from his combed bangs to his crisp uniform. You shook your head, beckoning him into your office. 

“Not at all.” 

He walked across the room, a small stack of papers in his hand wrapped in a neat string. 

“These are yours. They must’ve gotten mixed up.” You stood, staring at them with a quirk of your lip as you tried to hide your nervousness. You stared at the bundle of pages, doing nothing at all, before you decided to take them from his hand. 

“Oh, I haven’t even looked at these yet. Here, I probably have yours.” You set the compilation down to immediately sift through a larger stack of paperwork in the shallow wooden bin to the side of your desk. You felt like your hands were shaking, but Erwin didn’t seem to hold the same anxiety as you. Lingering patiently, Erwin glanced around your office as you consulted your collection of work to do.

You wondered if he remembered your conversation from the night before the last expedition. Hell, if it weren’t for Erwin’s cloak, you wouldn’t have been able to decipher whether your agreement was a dream. A part of you prayed that he hadn’t remembered— A marriage pact. What were you thinking?— but your instincts reluctantly told you that he not only remembered but could probably recall every word. 

You spared a single glance toward him as you rifled through your pages. Erwin caught your eye, offering you a slight, closed-lipped smile and a pleased raise of his thick eyebrows. You averted your attention with a newfound nervousness. 

You had no issue interacting with Erwin before. You were as close with him as you were with any other section commander and would have dared to consider him a friend. A good friend you’ve known for many years, he had your back on the battlefield and saved your life more times than you could count. He broke into that storage closet for your daft idea. That had to have meant something.

But he couldn’t have possibly been serious about your agreement. Of everyone you knew, Erwin sat near the bottom of the list of people you’d consider interested in marriage. Looking like he did, he had good chances of courting anyone he wanted. And yet, he agreed to marry you.

“They made it.”

“Hm?” You glanced up from your shuffling to follow Erwin’s gaze. He brushed the corner of one of the certificates, pulling it on the desk by the corner so that it sat at an angle. He cocked his head to read it better, then glanced back at you. “Oh.” You turned away as you continued your sifting. “Their injuries were terrible. They passed in the hospital yesterday—”

“But they made it.” Erwin never took his attention off you as he tapped Owens’ corrected name. Your heart twinged with guilt as you heaved a light sigh.

“I suppose they did,” you resigned, displacing a chunk of the pile on your desk chair. You blew at a strand of hair in your face before a realization hit you. Your lips formed a thin smile, and your forehead made the slightest wrinkle as you quirked your head to yourself, finally finding the files you were looking for. “I forgot I told you about that.”

“Forgot?”

You offered the bound pages across the width of your desk. The same colored string hung off them, the ends in a neat bow. Erwin’s bright blue irises held a certain seriousness in them. 

“Things have just been… busy.” You didn’t know what else to say. Erwin glanced off to the side momentarily, tucking the stack of pages under his arm.

“I see,” he said with a nod. You stood awkwardly, the files you had displaced on your seat. “Thank you for looking for these. I’m glad we could get it sorted.” Erwin turned to walk casually back out to the hall, only stopping when you called out his name.

“Erwin?” He turned, thick brows raised in attention. He pivoted on your area rug, and once you had his attention, you didn’t quite know what to do with it. You leaned forward with a hand on your desk, letting the moment pass as you searched for words. “Um— did you want some tea?” 

Erwin offered you a small, dimpled smile. 

“I’ll have to pass. I need to get these done.” He held up his handful of papers. It was an answer that made sense for two section commanders such as yourselves. You were coworkers. Perhaps you were even coworkers before you were friends. 

“Oh… yeah, of course,” you laughed nervously, watching the back of his head retreat into the hallway and down toward his office at the other end of the hall. You sank down to the floor in mortification. 

Great, now you’ve made it awkward.

***

It was a week full of paperwork, and you were officially one expedition down out of three. Three. What an oddly specific number. Between expeditions one and two sat the Military Ball, which was less about celebrating service members as advertised and more about political schmoozing and securing funds for the three military branches.

The entire headquarters was in a scurry to prepare, the rush to get the paperwork done and aesthetics in order starkly contrasted to the usual bustle and priorities of the Scout Regiment. It was an odd time to attend. While the Garrison and Military Police continued their business inside the walls, the Survey Corps reeled from your most recent expedition just a week prior. But in typical fashion for the Scouts, the world moved on. Having signed off on the death certificates for your fallen squad members days ago, it was in your best interest to rest your sights on the future, even if that meant attending a celebration in the wake of tragedy.

You scurried up the steps, making last-minute tucks and adjustments to your dress uniform. Always the one left to tie up loose ends, you insisted that everyone else go on without you. Being called back to the office to finish tasks wasn’t out of the question. Erwin once told you that the last full batch of section commanders had been called out of the Military Ball in the first hour for missing reports. 

You offered the greeting committee at the front a heartfelt salute, gesturing toward your credentials before they finally let you in. The ballroom was illuminated in a golden glow, highlighting the shiny, rich decor fitting for a grand venue in the Capital Mitras. You tried to hide your rushing, slowing your pace to offer polite smiles to the military personnel and politicians who lingered about enjoying their appetizers and complimentary aperitifs.

Hange had made their way deep into the room, their voice ringing out over the sea of chatter. From what you could tell, they had gathered quite a crowd of wealthy nobles excited to hear harrowing tales about the titans. They certainly chose the wrong soldier to prod about titan information. Not only would they be engaged in conversation for the entire night, but you wouldn’t be surprised if someone grew physically ill based on the level of detail Hange decided to spout. You pushed on, swiping a bubbling drink off a service tray and a small hors d'oeuvre off another as you scanned the bustling ballroom. 

It wasn’t hard to find Erwin. He stood tall next to a cocktail table outlined in a thick, white cloth. With a cocktail flute in one hand, he struggled at the knot in his bolo tie. 

“I see they're letting just anybody in here.” Erwin’s pretty blue irises flickered up as you approached, your snack quickly disappearing past your lips. 

“Same could go for you. Is that a non-standard issue No. 20 brown belt I see?” 

“Oh, shut up!” You hurried over, giddy like a schoolchild afraid of getting scolded by the headmaster. “Mine broke on expedition. I was hoping no one would notice.” You shook your head before placing your drink down on the table and wiping your fingers with your cocktail napkin. 

“You wore your dress uniform belt on expedition?” Erwin’s hands immediately fell away as you stepped forward to work at the tight knot the leather strings had been contorted into. You bobbed your head from side to side.

“My straps have gone to shit. I really need to order new ones, I just haven’t gotten around to it.” You dug your nail at the tough bundle of leather before withdrawing for a moment in disdain. You cocked your head to the side, holding the bunch in your fingers. “What the hell did you do to this?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” The tightest portion of the knot loosened. Your shoulders drooped as you let out a short breath of relief before continuing to unravel the knot.

 “I’m surprised they didn’t give you a hard time about credentials. I swear that one guy looked at me funny because my lapel wasn’t properly ironed.” The loop you were making steadily grew larger. With a few more strategic pulls, the center would open. 

“I was holding it in my hand when we came in, if you’d believe it.” You could feel his chuckle reverberate through his chest.

“I’m sure Shadis was thrilled by that.” The knot came undone, and you tugged at it until the leather strings sat kinky but otherwise untangled across his collarbone. You took to adjusting the entire tie so that the ends sat orderly and symmetrically with the clasp neatly in the middle. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Erwin looped a finger through your thin belt, giving it a playful tug. You didn’t look away from your work for a second, all too aware of your close proximity. You avoided looking at his face as you stepped back, his bolo tie finally arranged at the center of his collar. 

“You’re sure in high spirits tonight,” you mused with a roll of your eyes. “Looking for the bottom of that bottomless champagne?”

“I can’t say I’ve started such a challenge,” Erwin said with a bounce of his brows, a smile creeping onto his lips. He clasped his hands behind his back as he surveyed the room. You picked your drink back up, swirling it in the glass with a shrug of your shoulders and a dip of your lip. You stared out into the crowd along with him.

You were content to stand with him, watching as people mingled around the room in a sea of uniforms, gowns, and suits. The members of the Survey Corps were the easiest to spot. Members of your squads grouped together, claiming their own territories amongst the circular dining tables. The prideful sported their dress uniforms, but it appeared that most were content to shed the Wings of Freedom for a night in exchange for their best formal attire. 

A part of you was relieved that the dress uniform was mandatory for all four section commanders. You hadn’t had anything too special in your closet anyway.

“Probably for the best. When things settle, I’m going to take a crack at Senator Montgomery.” 

“Are you now?” Erwin quirked a brow as he continued to look out into the distance. A serving tray traveled by with champagne, and Erwin took one. “Eager for a few more expeditions?” 

“He’s pretty agreeable after dinner,” you continued. You didn’t even hear him. “Not to mention that his children are fascinated with horses. I’ve been giving them lessons, and I take the youngest riding on the trail near the outskirts of Rose about once a month.” You took a sip of your bubbly, savoring the taste. Another group entered through the rich double doors. “It’s been our little arrangement for quite some time. I’m sure he won’t take much more convincing. Besides, I know you’re going for Edmonds.”

“You’re quite the detective.” Erwin offered a polite smile to a pair of politicians passing by before glancing back at you. “I expect no less from you. You’ve always been quite sharp when it comes to these things.”

“Please—” You shook your head, toying with the stem of your glass. —“Everyone knows Shadis wants you to bag the big one. Edmonds is tough, but you’re good with your words. I think you’ll have an in by the end of the night.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“You can play modest with Edmonds, but I know you better than to believe that.” You weren’t really thinking when you snorted, eyes trained on the familiar faces traveling across the ballroom. A small, sentimental smile played on your lips. You didn’t notice that either.

“Do you now?” You incidentally met his eye, and the simple act of doing so made your heart skip a beat. A light, curious glimmer glinted in his expression. You quickly glanced away, fiddling with your glass before bringing it to your lips. Erwin’s attention was still trained on you in your peripheral. 

“We’ve served for a long time,” you resigned with a sigh. The nervousness you had never felt with Erwin before continued to constrict your chest. You tried not to let it show. Erwin seemed to let the matter go, turning his attention forward again to your relief. 

“That we have…”

“Erwin? Erwin! AHH!” A woman’s voice carried over the crowd. A puff of strawberry blonde hair peaked out over the top of the bustling throng along with a single, dainty pale hand. You could see glimpses of her periodically jumped on her low flats to catch a glimpse of Erwin as she gradually made her way through the horde of people. “Excuse us. Sorry. Excuse us!” 

It didn’t take long for her to break through, and to your surprise, she tugged Nile Dok in tow. She was a beautiful woman with long, curly hair, the color of which complimented her deep mustard-colored gown. The fabric draped elegantly over her rounded stomach and her shoulders were decorated in light tulle. She dropped Nile’s sleeve as she stood in front of you and Erwin, stretching her arms out with a gleeful smile. Erwin graciously greeted her, letting her wrap her arms around his neck in a deep hug. She just about squeezed the air out of him.

“Erwin! Look at you! It’s been too long!” 

“Careful,” Nile warned apprehensively but did little to get involved.

At a loss for what to do, you made eye contact with the ever-serious Nile Dok, offering him a salute and a polite greeting.

“It’s good to see you, Captain Dok. You’re looking well.”

“The same could be said for you, Section Commander.” He nodded cordially. Your attention snapped back to Erwin at the sound of your name.

“I’d like to introduce you to my good friend, Marie Dok. You’re acquainted with her husband, Nile Dok.” He gestured toward the woman before you. “Marie, this is my colleague—” The way he spoke your name sounded like an afterthought, but Marie paid no mind. She smiled at you, holding open her arms again to pull you into a warm hug. 

“Oh—” You reciprocated her gesture when the momentary shock wore off. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Section Commander,” she oozed before pulling away. She smelled subtly of fresh flowers. 

“Please, no need to be so formal,” you insisted with a light laugh.

“The two of you are going to eat with us, aren’t you? We have more than enough room at our table,” Marie pressed on. She turned in search of Nile’s approval while you glanced toward Erwin. Nile spared a knowing look toward Marie and a sigh before joining yours and Erwin’s silent conversation. Not being a fan of the mental exchanges being had without her, Marie couldn’t help the pout that found her lips. “I know the three of you have to make the rounds, but at least come to our table for dinner. Just the dinner part.” She playfully nudged Nile’s arm before taking it in her own. “If the senators and commanders get to talk shop with you all night, I think I deserve at least some of your time.”

“I couldn’t intrude,” you attempted to politely decline. Marie continued to pout.

“Please—” She huffed with a certain informality refreshing in comparison to the setting. It almost made you laugh. “Military folk are so hard to pin down these days. Besides, any friend of Erwin’s is a friend of mine!” 

You finally relented, head stuck on that word “friend.”

***

Dinner that night was by no means cheap. Not only were the attendees given a choice of several dietary selections for the main course, but among the spread were prime cuts of beef, whole fowl, sides of decadent potatoes with gravy, and a mix of fresh greens unlike anything most Scout Regiment soldiers had ever seen. 

You tried to savor your meal, but more than half your plate was gone before you could blink. Glancing around, you were willing to bet that most Scouts had just about scarfed their portions down with gusto. The fresh, high-quality food was in stark contrast to your usual rations of bread and meat scraps, after all. Marie ate just as much as any soldier, using her clearly pregnant appearance to persuade the waitstaff to bring more food to the table. 

Two other military police officers joined you with their spouses, who wore high-quality formal attire. You had seen the officer’s faces around at some time or another— most certainly at last year’s Military Ball— but didn’t know them closely. Despite your unfamiliarity with most people at your table, everyone seemed well acquainted with Marie.

“Marie owns Mulligan’s. We met her as cadets way back when she was a server,” Erwin noted to you with a nostalgic nod. Even Nile’s serious demeanor melted some at the memory. 

“Really?” Your face lit up in recognition. A hotspot for military personel, the pub had been taken over by Military Police types in recent years. But even so, you held some fond memories of the place. Marie offered a humble nod. “You have a killer ale. What a small world.” “Feels smaller every day,” Marie sighed with a smile.

With dinner over, the chatter and mingling started up again. And just like in years past, officers and public figures alike began to drift from their tables in favor of chatting up the people they had intended to persuade since the beginning of the night. 

Erwin drifted, eager to bag a promising opportunity for the Scouts as Shadis’s most charming section commander. Someone came to talk shop with Nile the next instant, and soon, you were left at the table alone with Marie. 

“It’s that time, isn’t it?” she mused knowingly. You offered her a sheepish and reluctant quirk of your lip as you stood from your chair. 

“Unfortunately,” you said, straightening out your uniform. You glanced at Senator Montgomery out of your peripheral before returning to Marie. “Thank you for inviting me to your table. It was nice meeting you.” You offered her your hand, but she didn’t take it. 

Instead, Marie propped her elbow on the table, resting her cheek against her palm as she looked you over. The action lacked malice or severe judgment as she collected information to fuel her following words. Her lips parted with purpose.

“The two of you make quite the couple,” was all she said. 

You were taken aback as you thought about what she was saying. Your brow furrowed, along with a slight curl to your bottom lip. Marie tilted her chin downward with a slight arch to her light eyebrows as if to say what she implied was obvious. 

“I— um— we’re, uh…” The more you grasped for words, the harder it was to find them. You sighed, letting your chest deflate as you collected yourself. “We’re colleagues. The time we’ve served allows us to work well in a professional setting, as is the usual relationship between section commanders.”

Colleagues. That’s what Erwin had introduced you as.

“I see,” she hummed, staring off in another direction. You stood in front of your pushed-in chair, silently following her line of sight into the bustling ballroom. It was too crowded to make out what she was so fixated on. “You know, I’ve always subscribed to the phrase, ‘you can’t be a little bit pregnant!’” 

Marie let out a boisterous laugh as she stood out of her chair. You swiftly stepped over to help her as she cradled her rounded stomach with her left arm. She accepted your help but ultimately didn’t require much support. 

“Whoo!” Marie stretched a bit as she found her bearings. Her hands quickly found yours, giving you two firm taps to the back of your wrist. “I won’t keep you any longer. But if you see Nile milling around, would you do me a favor and send him back to me?”

You agreed, trying to center your thoughts on Senator Montgomery.

***

The deal was wrapped up in a snap. If anything, you considered that you included too much preamble before getting to the meat of your proposal. Senator Montgomery snapped it up without much further negotiation. He had always been very fond of you, so much so that you likely could have brought the issue up at the start of your lengthy conversation.

Senator Montgomery was a talker, and after he expressed his dedication to your proposal, you were swiftly whisked into a detailed conversation about his children. You were acquainted with all three of them, and the question took a sharp turn from politics to which one of his children was making the swiftest progress in their riding lessons? 

Having his children be trained by such a high-ranking officer in the Scouts was apparently quite the point of pride for the senator. For the rest of the night, he referred to you as a close family friend to other elite residents of Wall Sina. The senator made sure to gesture to your credentials as he did so. 

If that meant his continued support of the Scouts, the senator could call you anything he pleased. 

By the time you could excuse yourself, the festivities were already winding down. Dessert was already half-gone. You took another champagne flute to disappear onto the balcony with. 

You leaned against the white stone railing, breathing deeply before exhaling a steady stream of hot air. You took a sip of your drink, staring off at the lights of the city. Even at night, Sina was littered with warm streetlamps that grew less in number as the distance ran on. A dark sheet of night existed past the sloping city. The stars that littered the horizon marked where the wall stopped in its reach toward the sky. 

“Need a breather? How was Montgomery?” 

Erwin took his place next to you, leaning on his elbows to mirror your posture. You hadn’t even heard him approach. He scooted a little plate across the stone surface. The two dessert pastries wobbled, knocking against each other. He offered you a dessert fork, and you weren’t about to deny him.

You met his gaze, letting the exhaustion on your face show for the first time that night. Another labored breath vibrated the skin of your lips and you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head. The tips of your four fingers met your thumb, snapping your hand open and closed to mimic the loudmouthed chatter you endured. Erwin’s shoulders jumped— his version of a snort.

“That good, huh?”

“I mean, we have a deal, but damn—” You glanced behind you to ensure that you were truly alone. Erwin instinctually swiveled his head with you. —“I hope the Montgomerys aren’t planning to have more children.” Erwin hummed a chuckle, digging his fork into the dessert. A sheepish smile found your lips as you couldn’t help but chuckle along with him. “What about you? How was Edmonds?” 

Erwin’s fork action halted, and you laughed as he rubbed at his temples. 

“We have a meeting first thing Monday morning,” he breathed after a few moments of carefully choosing his words. You continued chipping away at your dessert. “Edmonds is a very thorough man.” Erwin shook his head, dismissing the rest of his words. 

“It was a full interrogation, huh?” you mused before taking another bite. 

“Mh-mhm.” Erwin placed his fork on the little plate, savoring the last of his pastry. He turned to lean his back against the railing you continued to rest on. His arms coiled over his chest. He continued to chew; he had wide chews. “By the way—” You didn’t know someone’s jaw could move like that with their mouth still closed, but that was none of your business. —“Sorry about Marie. She can get a bit excitable sometimes.” 

“Not at all. Dinner was nice. And Marie seems nice…” You set your fork down as you continued to stare out at Sina. You paused, hesitating for a moment. “She seems a bit—”

“Different compared to Nile?”

“Yeah.” 

The two of you let the moment pass. You traced the wall's outline in the distance, trying to keep track of how many stars hovered above the black mass. Erwin kept his sights on the ballroom, which cast a golden glow onto the balcony, stopping just short of the two of you. People were starting to trickle out, having had their fill. A decent portion of the attendees continued to chatter. The waitstaff were beginning to take away the dessert table. 

“We used to spend a lot of time together years ago,” Erwin continued out of the silence. You didn’t know how to respond. He continued again. “I think she just wants to remember how things were when we’re together like this. We don’t keep in touch, so she gets a bit overinvolved to make up for lost time.”

“That makes sense.”

You wanted to ask him. You wanted him to connect the dots for you so you could have another clue in deciphering what exactly the two of you were. But you held your tongue, and the night continued like all the previous Military Balls. You decided you didn’t need to ask him if Marie Dok was the woman he wanted to marry all those years ago. You already knew.

***

“Is this, like, illegal?”

“Shut up.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Hurry, please.” 

“You try picking a lock in the dark.” 

“Move aside and let me try.” 

“I got it,” Ymir gritted in the darkness. “Go fuck off over there and keep watch.” She pressed her ear to the door, feeling around the lock with her picks before finally hearing a satisfying click from the latch. With a single tug of the handle, the door quietly swung open. The former members of the 104th Cadet Corps filed into your office, quietly taking in the sights in the moonlight trickling through the window. 

“There it is,” Sasha whispered, practically foaming at the mouth as she immediately ran up to your tea cart. Connie, Christa, and Reiner followed on her heels, instantly picking up the teacups and other accoutrement on the top tray as the others scattered around the room. Mikasa closed the door behind her. 

“The picture’s right here.” Jean gingerly opened the cabinet of memorabilia. The cabinet gave the same resistance as the day before, giving way to reveal the items inside. Sure enough, the framed drawing sat in the same place next to your old Scout cloak. Those less interested in the tea cart gathered around as Jean took it in his hands. 

“I have never heard of a branch transfer,” Mikasa remarked, taking the ends of the cloak in her hands. The fabric felt stiff between her fingertips. 

“Maybe you have to transfer if your husband gets promoted to commander of your branch.” Jean rubbed his thumb over the glass where you and Erwin were depicted. The scene was a large outdoor fire where you and your old squadmates were illustrated in an artistic and detailed outline. You and Erwin sat to the right of the frame, smiling and talking. Yes, the figures were undoubtably the two of you. Jean passed the picture on in favor of looking for more evidence. 

“Why would someone give up the title of section commander to work for the Garrison?” Eren muttered a bit too seriously. Jean had to stop to blink a few times. He was kidding, right?

Jean continued his search, but you didn’t have much memorabilia from the early days. Besides the picture and your cloak, all that remained was your patch with your last expedition number and a few fancy documents littered with formal signatures. 

Something bounced to the floor in Jean’s peripheral. He bent down to retrieve it, leaving the doors of the cabinet ajar. Eren turned the frame over in his hand, inspecting the back of it before also leaning down. Jean clutched the squishy little knot in his hand just moments before his head collided with Eren’s. They both recoiled, only for Eren to knock his head again against the bottom of the cabinet, which had swung open. Slamming his head in the same spot, the picture frame went crashing to the ground. 

“Fuck! Dammit, Yeager!” 

Glass scattered across the floor, and everyone’s attention simultaneously shot toward the sound. The room froze. Jean gaped at the mess on the wood floor, slowly moving to make eye contact with Eren. But before either of them could say a word, the door to your office creaked open, and the light flickered on, illuminating the dark room.

You stood in the doorway, out of uniform and with a stack of files under your arm. You glanced across your office, forehead knitted as you processed the collective presence of the ten wide-eyed Survey Corps members. 

“What are you all doing here?”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I love writing baby Reiner, I always give him the most banger lines. There will be a part III, which will hopefully be the final part. I just had a lot to set up and write and it wasn't logistically possible to fit it all in this part. If it doesn't fit in part III, I plan on dutifully writing a part IV.

For those who don't know, the phrase "you can't be a little bit pregnant" refers to dedicating all or nothing to a situation since the status of being pregnant is either that you are or that you aren't.

Notes: I’m happy to add people to the tag list, but requesting to be added without interacting with any part of this series outside of your tag request will result in a swift block

Part I Part II Part III

@goddessinsweats

#erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #commander erwin #erwin #erwin smith #aot erwin #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfic #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #x reader #x you #reader insert #x y/n #fic: marriage pact #attack on titan

[alleviate-ao3]

i'm so sorry the chapter is taking too long! it's just pure sex i swear

in the meantime, here's another sneak peek:

minors dni!! crude; rough sex

You rolled your hips unconsciously, urging him further inside, needing him to move. He thrust once, twice – slow movements until you could adjust to his size. Then he picked up his pace, moving from hesitant to feverish, ramming inside of you so hard and deep it filled you to the hilt.  

“Oh god yes.”

Tears prickled your eyes as he swelled inside of you. He was holding you now, his body heavily resting on your side, still fully clothed, one of his hands holding the back of your head, his fingers tight around your hair, while his other held onto your breast, squeezing. His head rested against your temple as you both looked down at where he ruthlessly fucked you, his hips slamming forward, his balls slapping the skin of your ass, the fabric of his trousers straining against his thighs.

“Hah yes, yes!” You couldn’t stop the choking, high pitched sounds that escaped your throat, forced to stay still as Levi gripped you tightly.

He tilted his head so that his lips flattened against your ear. “Like that?” He breathed, rendering you into nothing but a mere puddle of heat.

#levi aot #snk levi #ao3 #fanfic #levi smut #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #levi+ackerman+x+reader #attack on titan x reader #captain levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan fanfic #aot fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi fanfic #levi x you #mature fanfiction #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #hunter!levi #huntress!reader #share body heat #omegaverse #a/b/o verse #alpha levi #omega reader