Good little changes
amazing banner by @kenkopanda-art
Pairing: Mafia!Levi x Reader
Genre and tags: Being a couple, romance, cute, fluff, happy Levi.
Concept: As Levi works in the mafia, people are starting to notice little changes with their boss. He's gaining weight, brings in lunch, the bags under his eyes are gone, he has cute plasters over wounds, his hand gel is sweet-smelling, and his ties are getting cute as well. People are wondering what's happened to their big scary boss because he's not shouting much either. They try to push it and discover he's got a girlfriend who he worships to death, you.
Connie looked at his watch and checked the time. He glanced up to see his boss walking into work at nine in the morning. He was so used to Levi always being at work, that seeing him walking in was strange.
Levi gave Connie a small smile. "Morning Connie."
Connie's eyes widened. "M-Morning sir!"
"You should go on break for a bit. You need rest."
"Sir?" Connie felt like an alien was possibly in Levi's skin. "Sure." He followed his boss into his office. "Can I get you anything?"
Levi shook his head. "No, everything is good."
Connie watched his boss tap away on his phone and smile. "Okay..."
Levi glanced up. "Can I get you anything? Do you need something? You need anything extra?"
"No...everything is great."
"Good. Now go take that break."
Connie frowned a little. "Yes...sir..." He left his boss's office and went to the break room to see his friends there. He sat down with his brows furrowed. "The boss is acting weird."
Sasha hummed. "Weird how?"
"He smiled at me."
Jean snorted. "Fuck off."
Connie locked eyes with his friend. "I'm not lying! He smiled at me and he was smiling at his phone too. He came in a nine!"
Sasha looked at her phone. "Nine? But he always stays over here."
"He came in at nine."
Jean hummed. "So, he's sleeping, working sensible hours and is happy?"
Sasha rested her cheek on her hand. "Maybe he has a therapist?"
Connie ruffled his hair. "Maybe..."
A few days later...
Sasha slipped into Levi's office with reports. She placed them down and saw a cute bento box open next to Levi, along with a pretty thermos. She handed the work over as she stared at the food in the bento.
Levi looked through the papers and hummed. "You can't have my lunch. My lunch is special." He looked up at Sasha. "But it's very good."
She gulped hard. "It looks delicious."
"I'll pass on that message." He signed off on the papers and handed them over showing off a plaster on his knuckle with a cute chubby dinosaur on. "What?"
She grabbed the papers. "Sorry, I was just looking at your plaster."
Levi looked down at it and smiled. "It's cute, right?"
"Cute? Uh, yeah! I really love it."
He smiled at Sasha. "Me too."
She stepped back. "I'll get these papers sorted. Thanks, sir."
Levi waved to her. "Not a problem."
A week later...
Jean walked with Connie and Sasha as they felt terrfied of what Levi was going to say to them. He knocked on the door and walked in when Levi said enter. He bowed to his boss. "Sir."
Levi sighed. "What can I do for you?"
Jean stood up and stared at Levi's tie, it had cute little sharks on it and tiny hearts. "Um..."
Jean gulped. "Oh, umm...we messed up. We were protecting a club of yours and a rival mafia member came to see us. We chased him down, but it was a distraction. Basically, your club got messed up. They broke things and spray painted. They didn't get anything important though. We're so sorry."
Levi stared at them as they bowed deeply. "Are you three okay?"
Connie stood up. "Huh?"
Levi got up and walked closer. "I said, are you three okay? Did you get hurt?"
Sasha frowned. "We're okay."
"Good." He let out a long sigh. "I'm glad. I wouldn't want you three to get hurt just because of a club."
Jean rubbed the back of his neck. "Sir?"
Levi smiled a little. "Just fix it as soon as you two can, okay? I trust you three."
Levi walked back to his desk and grabbed his hand sanitizer and put it on. "Don't push yourselves too much."
Sasha leaned over and whispered. "Is that sweetie hand sanitizer?"
"Yes." He smiled at Sasha jumping at him hearing. "You want some?"
She walked over and offered her hand. "Sure."
He gave her some. "Smells nice, right?"
She hummed. "Perfect."
He looked at his watch. "I need to head out. Go home you three and deal with the club tomorrow." He packed up his things. "You need to rest as much as possible. See you tomorrow."
A few days later...
Jean walked up to his friends staring at you in a summer dress. "What are you two doing?"
Connie pointed. "What's with the pretty lady?"
Jean stared at you and remembered you from the club. He'd gone with Levi and Mike for a job over a month ago. You had walked right up to Levi and told him how much of an asshole he was for being in the mafia, then slapped him hard. Jean had thought you were dead, but his boss had surprised him and chased after you. He had no clue what had happened after, but now it all clicked. Levi was dating you.
"Huh." Jean smiled. "I believe she is our boss's girlfriend."
Connie smirked. "So, that's what the boss needed, a good fuck! She much be great in the sack."
Sasha heard someone step behind Connie. She turned her head to see Levi stood there. She gasped and shook her friend. "Connie?"
"What? Oh, I bet he's kinky in hell in bed. Maybe he likes to dominate?"
He looked at Sasha and felt this coldness behind him. His eyes went wide in fear. "He's behind me, isn't he?" He whipped around to face his very angry looking boss. "S-sir!"
Levi clenched his jaw. "Springer."
Connie gulped hard. "I'll go on cleaning duty for two months alone, mainly the toilets."
"Guard duty too for six months! Night shift!"
Levi hummed. "Get to work then." He watched Connie run away. "You two have anything to say?"
Sasha shook her head. "No!"
Jean gulped hard. "Nothing."
Levi narrowed his eyes a little as he studied them. He smiled and perked up. "Good."
Sasha fiddled with her top. "So, did your girlfriend make you all those lunches?"
"She did. She was very happy when you said it looked delicious."
"She get you those cute ties and hankies?"
He looked down at his tie with little chubby bears on. "Yeah. They're great, aren't they?" He looked up. "She also gave me that sweet hand sanitizer you liked."
She hummed a laugh. "You seem happier."
Jean smiled. "Love at first slap."
Levi stared at Jean, then chuckled. "You're right."
Jean thought he was going to die in that small moment, but he was safe for now. "You should go see your mrs."
Levi nodded at them both. "Good work on the club, by the way." He jogged over to you and hugged you. "Hey beautiful."
You hugged Levi tightly. "Hi!" You pulled back and smiled. "I'm so glad you invited me here. I'm looking forward to meeting everyone."
Levi kissed you and hummed. "I'll introduce you to Erwin today, but Hange will wait."
You cupped his face. "Why's that?"
He let out a long sigh. "I'm not mentally ready for the madness that comes with letting them know I'm in love."
You giggled. "Alright."
"LEVI!" You both looked over to Hange. Hange pointed at you both. "GIRLFRIEND!"
Levi groaned. "Fuck me."
levi + “You don’t have to act so tough. It’s ok to let other people care for you sometimes.”
content: levi x reader, fluff, modern!au
A savory aroma teases itself into Levi’s nose and awakens him from his already fitful sleep. His hand instinctively searches for you on the bed only to be met with cold, empty sheets. Levi’s vision gradually returns as his lids slowly open and those dark eyes search for where you might be. He sits up, hair a mess on top of his head and bags under his eyes. The headache between his eyebrows is relentless and makes him want to sink back into the covers, but he wants to be sure of your whereabouts first.
“Y/N?,” he calls out. There’s no answer, but there is still the aromatic smell of food coming from elsewhere in the house. You must be cooking something.
Levi’s suspicion is confirmed when you appear in the doorway, hair tied back and hands busy with a bowl of soup. “Heya, stranger, look who’s up! Have a nice nap?”
He gives you his usual deadpan look as he eyes the dish of food in your hands. “You made soup?”
“Yup!,” you chirp and set the bowl down on the nightstand in favor of grabbing a bed tray to place in front of your love. “I thought it might help with that nasty cold you have!” You make sure the miniature table is secure before stationing the soup down on top of it.
“Tch.,” Levi hums in disapproval. “I’m not that unwell, you don’t have to treat me like a baby, y’know.”
You cross your arms over your chest. There’s silence for a minute as Levi gazes up at you from his spot on the bed and studies the stern look on your face, one that lets him know you see right through his macho man persona. “Levi, you were sneezing up a storm last night and your headache was killing you. Not to mention your throat was so sore you could barely speak. Now eat the soup.”
His eyebrows raise at your commanding tone, but that fearsome look in your eye humbles him enough to have him bending to your will. He takes the spoon in his dominant hand and uses it to stir the broth around before trying it. Levi gives you one more questioning glance, but you stand firm on your demand. Even if you had to sit here and watch him the entire time, you’re gonna make sure he eats at least half that bowl.
You’re pleased when Levi puts the first spoonful of soup in his mouth. You can tell he enjoys it, but of course he wouldn’t be too explicit in his emotions about it.
The bowl is small, and Levi definitely finds the soup delicious, so it’s not too long before it’s all gone. You sit down next to him on his side of the bed, smoothing his hair down and kissing him on the forehead. “See, that wasn’t too bad, was it, grumpy?”
He only gives a grunt before placing the utensil inside the bowl. You tilt your head as you give him an amused smirk and aanother kiss on the cheek, and then remove the bed tray out of his way so he can lay down again.
“Don’t you feel so much better, love? I bet it made you feel all warm inside and it’ll soothe that ache in your throat.” You glance at him through the mirror attached to the dresser. He’s reaching for one of the napkins he keeps on his nightstand.
You exit the room to put the bowl and spoon in the sink but return shortly with a glass of water for your lover. Levi tries not to look too eager when he takes it from your hands, but he’s not too discreet. He downs the water and sets the glass on the stand, then lolls his head onto your shoulder.
You pepper his face with a few more kisses, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Ya know you don’t have to act so tough, it’s okay to let other people care for you sometimes.”
He breathes out a sigh and leans into your embrace. “Yeah, fine.” Despite his standoffish response, he gives your hand a light squeeze. His own personal way of saying ‘thank you.’ “One more thing, Y/N.”
“Hm?” You lean in to give him another kiss on the cheek but are met with his hand covering your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise as your boyfriend gives you the tiniest of smiles before teasingly saying, “Stop it the with kisses, brat. You’re going to get yourself sick.”
Okay but what if you took Levi on his first picnic?
He didn't understand the word, or eating outside on a blanket on the ground or anything.
He whines the entire way. "You want me to get dirty?" "Eat with my hands?" "But there's ants."
And you're a giggling mess at his complaints and finally just tell him to shut up and while he's stunned into silence you start moving everything out of the way and lay down and try to pull him with you.
"You want me to LAY out here?"
"Yes!" And you're serious, so he does.
"The sun is in my eyes."
"Then close them."
So he does and and you get cozy against him and draw little circles on his chest until he finally hears your breathing steady. Then he takes it all in, and feels the slight breeze, and the warmth on his skin, and hears the stream running nearby, and it's so peaceful, you're the one waking him up just a short time later.
"So, can we try again next week?" That's him, asking you! :)
Eliza!!! this is so cute. Y/N taking Captain grumpy pants to his first picnic and he can't stop niggling
Blowing out a sigh, Levi slips into his pocket the note you left on his desk yesterday. His svelte fingers run through his silky hair, sweeping off the meddlesome strands of his eyes. He sticks a mental post it note to remind himself to schedule an urgent haircut.
Petrichor is dank in the air; the grass glistened in the dew of the early morning rain. He tugs the collar of his white linen shirt, scratching an itch on his neck, and looks up at the clear sky. He squints and shades his eyes against the intense brightness of the sun with a hand. In a short time, the mist will leave a gross tacky layer on his skin.
Spending his day off in the bathtub with you would have been a more pleasant plan. But he would never say no to the schemes you cooked up in your head–the ones involving him. At the end of the day, he ends up giving in to your big puppy eyes.
“Sorry for making you wait.” He feels your melodious voice coming from behind, followed by one arm winding around him. “I had to double check we got everything.” On your other arm hangs a wicker basket that cuts off your circulation, and you can feel your hand starting to tingle.
You plant a sweet kiss on his shoulder and steered around him, till you’re standing before him, and another kiss catches him out of guard.
“Hey,” he muses when you pull apart, and spots the basket brimming with everything you found in the kitchen. “What’s that?”
“A basket with food,” you say, swaying it like a pendulum in your arm.
Levi rolls his eyes. “I mean, what’s that for?” he demands and grabs the handle, and a smile draws on his face when he notices what you’re wearing. A white tie-strap midi dress you confectioned yourself with a rayon fabric he bought for you in the market, complemented with a red hair ribbon tied around your messy bun.
“We’re having a picnic, Levi.” You beam, rocking back and forth on your heels, hands intertwined behind your back.
“You’ve never had one?!!!” You blink several times, stunned; your reaction tears out a blush from him. Levi flusters. He scratches his chin and averts his gaze. He’s been living in the surface for less than a year; there are still things he has yet to discover. “Sorry… I overreacted,” you say soothingly and loop an arm through his, pressing your cheek to his upper arm. “Let’s go, I’ll explain on the way.”
Distant hills hear your giggles and Levi’s whines as you look for the perfect spot to set your date. You tell him you’ll be eating on a blanket on the meadow and strings of ‘tch’s drips off from his mouth.
“It’ll be fun,” you reassure him, picking wild berries that grow along the path; however, judging by his narrowed eyes and his constant grumbling, he doesn’t seem convinced. Levi turns his face away when you offer him part of your harvest, and you, without fretting by his moody attitude, eat them one by one, rejoicing in the blend of sweetness and bitterness that lingers in your mouth
After a twenty-minute walk, your eyes light up when you spot the perfect place: a tuft of wild grass tickling the edge of a shallow river.
While Levi still holds the basket, you fumble for the blanket and extend it on the field, placing stones on the corners so that the breeze won't fling it over.
“I won’t sit there,” Levi scoffs as you sit on your knees. You make grabby hands as a cue for him to pass the woven container to you.
“So, you’re eating standing?” you retort, swinging the flaps open.
"You want me to get dirty?"
Your eyes go blank. “That’s what the blanket is for, silly.” You pat the space beside you, and he reluctantly sits cross-legged, frowning and pouting like a grounded four-year-old. Another ‘tch’ coils in his mouth as he tries to accommodate for the grass not to prickle his butt.
You hand him the bottle of wine and the corkscrew for him to do something useful instead of yammering, while you carefully pull out the food containers and set up everything nice and pretty on the wooden trays. Levi watches you, pleased and astound that you’d thought of any detail.
Different types of cheese, strawberries, sliced apples, nuts and ham, sticks of cucumber and carrot, pesto and mushroom pâté, and a baguette put together a colorful feast.
Levi lifts the bottle and holds it at his eye level, swirling it, watching through the glass the tiny bubbles dashing upwards.
“Are we drinking from the bottle?” He gibes and raises a brow derisively.
“Here.” You thud two mugs on the mat, and Levi pours the rosé.
“Mugs for wine?”
“You know I’m clumsy sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” The corners of his lips twitch in an attempt to stifle a mocking smirk. You smack his shoulder with a soft blow; one cheek puffs out as your lour at him.
“It was an accident,” you huff. He wouldn’t stop rubbing in your face the fact that you shatter one of his favorite cups.
Levi pinches your cheek between two knuckles as you finish serving. Then, he stretches out his legs and leans back by a fraction, hands flat supporting his weight. A small, enamored smile creeps across his lips as he contemplates you. Your skin glows, bathed in the sunlight, and your hair, a perfect chaos. A few wild strands of hair slipped off the tie and are now rebelliously curling over your ears.
“Don’t you ever get tired of staring at me?” You lick your lips that curved into a smile as you place the bunch of green grapes in the center of the tray.
His eyes stumble with your long lashes, that look like two fans, sexy and enthralling; and then his gaze slides down your nose, until it entangles with your mouth. Your lips. Plump, juicy, kissable. His vice. With that vivid red lipstick that promises to leave his mouth messed up like the streets of the town the morning after the carnival.
You are luckiest person in the world because Levi loves you. You were the one who crumbled the walls he’d built around his wounded heart and saw past through his eyes. And he gave you everything; he bared his soul and showed his vulnerable side, the frightened boy he keeps tucked away in the recesses of his soul.
He wants to kiss you. He’d ask because no matter how many times you remind him he doesn’t need to ask for a kiss, he’ll do it.
However, he skips this time.
He’s been a dick, he knows he’s been a dick who doesn’t deserve your lips. “Time to dig in.” You rub your hands together with excitement and began to prepare the toasts.
“Time to dig in.” You rub your hands together with excitement and began to prepare the toasts.
Levi’s eyes follow you as you cut the bread in slices, slather pâté on them and decorate with toppings. Unwittingly, you hum a soft tune. Once done, you slip his full plate before him, and he eyes them warily as if making sure they’re not poisoned. His gaze then drifts to you and you’re already munching down one, cupping a hand beneath your chin, so the crumbs don’t fall onto the mat.
“You haven’t touch yours.” Your eyes scoot to him as you take another bite.
He frowns again, reaches out and wipes of the smeared pesto from the corner of your mouth.
"Do you really expect me to eat with my hands?" he jeers, his fingers rubbing clean on a napkin.
“What’s wrong with eating with hands?” You chaffed him for his silly complaints. “I pack enough napkins, or we can wash our hands in the stream too.”
"But there's ants."
“You just sweep them away,” you snort, sending one to fly off with a finger-flick.
“Levi,” you chime, your mellow laugh filling the air and sweetening his ears. You rub a thumb between his eyebrows to ease the creases of his sulky grimace. “Shut up and stop acting like a brat.”
Bewildered, he stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips, then growls and folds his arms over his chest. “I’m not acting like a brat.”
“You are.” You hold him closer and smother his face with a shower of kisses and soft nibbles, but he whines more and shush you off, rubbing off the remnants of lipstick of his face..
You find it amusing to provoke him and piss him off, only a bit, from time to time. He's adorable, you think, even though anyone else would say you're crazy.
“Open up.” You bring a bruschetta to his mouth, and he leers back, blushing, but surrenders and nabs on it.
“There you go, big baby grumpy pants.”
“So funny.” He remarks sarcastically and takes a long swig of wine before hoarding the toasts in his plate like a squirrel stashing nuts. A chuckle slips off your lips, and you ruffle his hair, glad he’d liked it. You capture a lock of black hair between two fingers, ironing it and curling it upwards to study the ends. “Can I cut it next time.”
“Not a chance, Y/N. You know I don’t trust you with my hair.”
For dessert, you’d picked an apple pie with flaky butter crust that you almost devour whole. An explosion of flavors and textures takes over your mouth, so addictive that you can't put your fork down. But Levi tugs you away from a diabetic coma.
“Can we have it for breakfast tomorrow?” you query whimsically, licking your fingers before putting the dishes and leftovers back into the wicker box, moving everything away to make more room for two, and lie on your side, propping your head on your elbow.
Levi shakes his head, arms crossed over his chest, tapping his fingers on his upper arms. You shoot at him a menacing, insistent glance.
"You want me to LAY out here?"
His glower falter, and he gulps at your sternness. You're always in a good mood, sparkly and cheery, but one thing he’s learned is never to make you upset. He complies and, a bit averse, he joins you.
He lies on his back, and you nestle next to him, swinging a leg across his thigs, curling an arm over his chest and nuzzling your face on his shoulder. A waft of his pungent perfume strokes your nose , intoxicating you in that masculine, panty-dropper scent.
"The sun is in my eyes." He bellyaches, squinting and scrunching up his face.
"Then close them." You mumble, drawing little circles on his chest, gazing up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Levi's eyes meet yours, and he smiles back. He rolls on his side, capturing you in his arms, wedging one leg between your thighs, and douses the crown of your head in kisses.
“Thank you for today, Y/N.” His sultry voice caresses each letter of your name. “Even if I’ve been a pain in the ass.”
The tip of your nose skims his chin, and your lips make their way beneath his jaw, pressing ticklish kisses that wrench tiny chuckles from his mouth. “You should laugh more often, Levi.” Your breath fans over his Adam’s apple, and his chortle’s joy transform in giggles.
“Stop that!” His voice trembles in his throat against your mouth.
“Make me.” You dare him, blitzing his neck with more kisses in a ceaseless assault.
He lurches back and squishes your cheeks in his hands. His gaze roams over you, and he inches forward, whisking his nose on yours. Then, his hands amble around your neck, his thumbs stroking your earlobes and cheeks.
“Can I kiss you?”
First, a gentle brush before his mouth captures yours in a sweet hearty kiss. Your eyes close, slowly, and your tongue, spontaneous and urgent sweeps over his lips and plunges into his gaping maw, exploring every corner of his mouth, swirling and contorting with his in a mucilaginous dance.
When your lungs hoist the white flag, you pull apart and gaze at each other like two idiots in love.
Because you’re nothing more than two enamored idiots.
Huddled together, you’re the first one to doze off. Unlike him, wherever you lie down, you soon fall into Morpheus' claws. He closes his eyes, enveloped by your steady breathing and your warmth, the lavender of your shampoo, and yields to the rustling of the leaves that dither at the rhythm of the breeze, the whisper of the stream that slithers through the rocks.
Without realizing it, the world shuts down and only the two of you are left, cocooned in each other’s embrace.
“Levi.” His name belches off your mouth like cotton-candy, followed by a bath of kisses that wakes him up from his slumber.
He groans and peeks through one of his eyes. And there you are, drinking him with your sparkling eyes, tracing a finger over his ear.
You’re lying on your belly, your chin resting on your hand and your knees bent so that your heels are whisking your lovely, bitable ass.
Still engulfed in the drowsiness, he holds your hand, lacing his fingers through yours and brings it to his mouth, slathering kisses on your knuckles.
He nuzzles his face against your entwined hands, and a fleeting shade of pink creeps across his cheeks.
"So, can we try again next week?"
cw// feral shit
i would pay a million dollars just for a whiff of his feet
First Times Anthology, ch.7: all of me
work summary » Intimate, vulnerable, gentle. Concepts Levi is a stranger to, until you.
ch.summary: Just when you think you know everything about each other, Levi has a way of surprising you after a close call. In wake of the worsening odds against the Titans, you "punish" him for taking an unnecessary risk.
content/warnings: ACKERBOND, hurt/comfort, LEVI RAGE MODE, canon-typical violence, minor injuries, softcore porn tbh, nervous breakdown/some descriptions of dissociation&reactions to post-trauma events, oh my god is that a reference to canon??, heart-to-heart talks, oral (f!receiving), creampie (f!receiving), Levi is always so careful idc, praise, resolved misunderstandings
a/n: i call this the 'learning to unconditionally love every facet of each other' chapter in addition to the more general name of the fic, 'levi therapy hour'. alternatively, the 'oh my god, is that a reference to canon??😱' chapter.
it's autumn year 849.
originally this chappy was gonna be split in 2 parts, but since every other chap is centered in one period of time b/n longer stretches (because it's an anthology, duh), i decided the last one is too separate to call it pt2.
BUT this is the real bonafide guaranteed second-to-last chapter. i mean it this time lol. that one is v close to being finished (i am stubborn and refuse to finish the closing paragraphs w/out finishing the one last singular scene, which.. is smut) and im thinking mid june or so!
ps: for all intents and purposes of getting railed by levi, pregnancy doesnt exist. pps, fingernails grow back. youll understand later, i just worry abt misunderstanding.
previous part・work masterpost・last part
Listened to while writing:
taglist: @peace-for-levi | @sckerman | @jayteacups | @levi-my-beloved | @alominum | @mwuah | @midtwenties-angst | @ackermandick | @halloweenmedic | @katty | @notgoodforlife | @chaotic-nick | @b-o-n-e-daddy | + link to sign up
Your first time is that following autumn, in all its golden-browns, dashes of fiery red, and silver skies. The summer season had finally burnt itself out, and it was time to breathe a sigh of relief for another season you both left still fighting.
Levi returned in the early evening from a days-long trip to Mitras on official business between him and the Commander. With paperwork out of the way, you had made a warm, filling dinner (with real butter, too, though meat was too expensive)—for no other reason than you had missed him, and you knew how irritating he finds those trips.
Afterwards, in bed, he stirred against you and leaned over to kiss. You kissed him harder. It was certainly no surprise when he crawled between your bare thighs, hands stroking up and down your freshly-shaved legs—nor when he pulled away and asked, “Did you change your mind while I was gone?”
You knocked away the covers, as it’d quickly grown too muggy, and shook your head, heart suddenly pounding.
Before he left days before, you had asked his thoughts on going further than you ever had in the past, on him being inside you. His eyes had grown a touch wide, but he had nodded, and since he had been gone, the anticipation took over your mind.
But that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous.
“You think you need more?” he asks now, earnest, but his voice is muffled against your slit, lapping, then suckling over your puffy clit. He licks in maddeningly hot, lazy circles.
You shudder with a light cry, hands in his hair combing it backwards. His heavy tongue has you clenching down around his three fingers that slowly fuck into you.
“No.” At least, you don’t think so—he’s been so thorough, and so fucking careful—but the bunches of butterflies fluttering in your chest want to say otherwise.
You stammer, “T-Two times not enough for you?”
“Believe me…” He sits up on his haunches, three fingers curling inside you, his other hand idly pumping his red, swollen cock. “It is.”
You make a blind grab for the sheets and rock your hips to meet him. “Then hurry.”
He licks his swollen lips and gently withdraws his fingers. While clambering on top of you, he nonchalantly licks your sweet cum from them, though his nerves beat like a racehorse in his chest.
Your hand replaces his around his reddened shaft, the slide so easy from how much he’s leaked all over himself. More than before, you take in his size and realize how thick he is.
“Levi,” you whisper.
He rocks into your loose hand, and sighs in bliss. “Yeah.”
“C’mere,” you plead, but before you can finish your buttery lips are already moving together.
“But you—” kiss, “—stop me—” kiss, ”—for any reason.”
You admire the sheen of sweat on his hairline, the heat on his cheeks, the slope of his jaw, and almost forget to reply. “You say that every time, and guess what happens every time?”
“This is different.”
“Nu-uh. Same, ‘cause it’s you.”
With a huff, he hoists your knees a touch higher around his slender hips and lines his cock up level with your mound—to see how deep he’ll go. You shiver.
He cradles your hip as he feels you draw tense. “I assure you it is.”
Your teeth hook into your bottom lip. You're so damn nervous, it’s easier to think so. Levi will take care of you, though. That’s guaranteed.
“I’m nervous,” you surrender. “But it’s probably not much different, right?”
He shakes his head into the shade of your neck; even without knowing what it’s like with a woman, he's confident you’re wrong.
In return, you throw one leg over his back, digging your heel in.
“Hey,” he gasps, “you can’t just—”
You drag him that much closer, caging him in with both arms and thighs. Between your spread legs his hips involuntarily twitch towards, then grind down against your sticky wet slit. He nudges your clit with the head, just to see how you’ll react, and your hips bow up against his, whining miserably.
To reassure him, you massage his lips with yours. You don’t want to feel anxiety crushing you while you ache and clench for him around absolutely nothing. You need him. You need him.
“C’mere,” you beg again, and he lines himself up. Something hot, round and hard catches on your rim, and then pushes inside.
Levi’s desire pounds between his thighs and thunders in his ears. The drag is hot, soaking wet, and hugs his cock so tight that his jaw falls completely slack.
He’s certainly never felt this before.
For a moment his mind is utterly blank, reeling, and you cling onto him so tight.
“Fuck,” you croak by his ear. He’s only halfway. “It’s so big.”
He says nothing—if he opens his mouth a string of noises will tumble out; showing how good he feels when you’re not there yet doesn’t feel right—and cradles you between both thick biceps, panting hard. It’s like your pussy is tightening to suck him deeper inside.
You shakily whine his name, seeking purchase by the strong planes of his back.
All you can think of is the uncanny feeling of your body stretching to take him. Levi isn’t big by most standards, but he makes up for it in thickness, and it’s plump even while flaccid.
It feels like he’s splitting you in half. Like all that preparation hardly made a dent in this blindly intense feeling. He was right.
“I know, it’ll feel better soon. Jus’ a little more, sweetheart.”
He watches your features carefully and bullies his hand between you to fall over your mound. In firm, easy circles he strokes you, kisses your temple, then the side of your parted lips. “That better?”
A sigh is punched from your lungs. “Yes.”
Pleasure licks up your spine when your hips finally kiss. He’s here. “Levi, Levi.”
He says your name in return, his breath fanning over your face. It’ll get better from here. His hand moves away from your clit upwards to cradle the back of your head.
You crack your eyes open, only to find his shut above you, jaw tight and features pinched in pleasure. His bangs dangle in his eyes, so you push them back, and his eyes flutter open.
Bright eyes the color of twilight blink back at you, his pupils like two round black pools. It doesn’t feel like much else needs to be said.
His calloused fingers hug the thick of your thigh, where you’re shaking slightly. “I’m gonna go slow at first. Relax—can you do that for me?”
His endless care is anything but lost on you, which helps you relax all by itself. You nod, physically going soft and lax in his arms.
A small gasp sounds against your lips to feel you throb gently around him. He will last, certainly, but never did he imagine it’d feel this good before even properly starting. It frazzles his mind as much as it seems to do yours.
“Baby,” you groan, scraping down his back. “Move.”
Experimentally, he grinds into all that heat. You whimper. Then he goes further, rolling his hips, and rocks in slow, shallow thrusts to the feeling of your own twitching up to meet him halfway.
Actually doing this, there was nothing—and is nothing—he feared more than hurting you at all. Pain should never be a given in this, like he falsely assumed in the past—which is why he burns brightly to take in the pinched bliss on your face now; even though he wants to lay you back and slam into you so bad.
“There you go,” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your lips. “Good. That’s my girl.”
A soft moan falls off your lips. Pleasure apart from the feeling of Levi rocking into you, but just as intense, writhes in your chest. Your walls flutter hard around where he’s begun to properly fuck you, and then he catches your rim, and your hips abruptly buck up into him.
A louder groan rumbles by your ear. “Fuck, you’re so tight—”
“Please! F-Fuck me so good.”
Deeper, faster he buries himself inside you enough to hear his balls slap against your pelvis. If you want more, he will give it to you gladly. Hearing you beg for him, moan his name, winds him up hotter and hotter.
For once, his embarrassment evaporates—it doesn’t even register. It’s how sweet your voice and how good your cunt feels taking him so deeply, so readily.
All of it: all of him, all of you.
The bedframe whines, and he can’t remember when, but at some point your palm snakes over his forehead, tossing his bangs back so you can grab a good handful and coax him in for another breathtaking kiss. Immediately you take his bottom lip between his teeth, and his mouth parts obediently to let you in.
“Fuck,” he groans. You can’t even think to lick into his hot, sticky mouth and rather gape into his mouth, crying out when he slams into that perfect spot. “Right there?”
Your ankles lock around his lower back, moaning shamelessly right by his ear, which is enough of an answer. He squeezes your inner thigh, spreading you wide open, which changes the angle enough for him to slam into that perfect spot every time.
“Yes!” you gasp in approval, head falling back to expose your neck to him. Your chests heave together, and it suddenly and swiftly registers in your mind—he’s fucking you, taking you, on top of you, all around you. You feel yourself getting close.
He feels you too—that subtle lift in your back and the added sting of sweet pain from your tight hold on his dark hair. Where he grinds, his thrusts, splitting your pussy wide open, he feels you spasm and tighten.
“Look at me,” he begs quietly by your hairline. Heat rolls through him. Quieter, “Please.”
You pry your eyes open half-lidded, and you do—you look deeply into his soft, blazing eyes, inspiring your whole body to shudder. A hot blush paints his sharp features, tight from pleasure.
Just watching him somehow hurls you closer to the point of no return. His pink lips are perpetually parted for you, and once, his eyes flutter, a fragile moan escaping, and you grab for his hand. He locks them on the pillow beside your head in response.
Your tits bounce along with his quick thrusts. You try to tell him you’re close, but you can’t. Each sound ripped from you is punctuated by another wet slam of his hips.
A grunt is punched from his chest, so much so his sweaty forehead falls on yours and his rhythm skips. He’s about to come, too.
“Fuck—” He noses your cheek, panting, “—you hear yourself? Fucking gushing around me—”
“Yeah, yes.” You paw for his sturdy shoulders as heat like an electric bolt rolls over your whole body, drawing you up tight. His fat cock splits your sticky cunt now in a flurry of hard thrusts. You uncontrollably struggle to writhe when a hand bullies itself between your bodies, and the frantic attention he gives your clit shoves you into your climax, dashing your vision in bright white.
“Fuck!” He slams into your cunt, “Good fucking girl.”
You don’t have enough mind to hear yourself let go, but Levi does—the loud cry ripped from your throat, your babbled whimpers, and his name and his name and his name being moaned at the ceiling. You’re so fucking loud that if someone was walking past, the sound would be unmistakable.
You writhe so fucking hard in his arms that he has to hold you down to fucking you through the silky-soft spasming of your cunt. You go so nice and tight, practically milking him, and combined with the rest runs his blood white-hot.
His end hits him close behind yours. It slams into him hard and sudden, making his cock surge, making him gasp. His hips stutter and his balls give a deep throb, and then he falls into it just as you’re coming down from yours.
Shaking and shuddering, these little mewls fall off your lips as you get to watch his jaw fall slack and utter bliss take over his blushing face. You get to hear a loud, rasping moan above you and feel him fuck you to completion, then his hot cum shooting deep inside your pussy, making your toes curl. So much, and a little more.
And then, when all that’s left is for him to slow and the swift heavy sounds of both your breaths, you feel him throb softly as he starts to soften inside you. His face is shaded in your neck, and neither of you move at first. Your sweaty hands are still squeezed.
He makes a noise. Idly, he realizes the mess that’s begun to dribble out between where you’re both connected, and pulls out slowly, rubbing the tremors out of your thighs.
Softly, you whimper at the sudden sense of loss you feel, stroking his messy hair with tingling fingers. A completely whole sense of warmth drapes over you now, leaving you sleepy.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly from beside you. He feels it’s the right thing to do no matter what.
“Yes,” you whisper, and roll over towards him. You squirm to feel it—a creamy mix of his mess and yours caking your inner thighs. You’re a little sore, but completely fucking satisfied. Your limbs are heavier than steel.
He shakily shuffles out of bed, and you stay still, spreading your legs so he can clean you up with a lukewarm washcloth. After he seems satisfied with his own state, you lug yourself up into a sit and kiss him tenderly.
It’s slow, and it’s lazy, but it rattles you to the core.
Levi still occasionally gets overwhelmed after. He stutters to pull away first, looking spent in a strained way, doesn’t reach out to touch you. Only if you initiate—this time by stroking his sinewy arm does he relax slightly.
“Are you okay?” you ask him in return, and immediately he nods, eyes softly closed. You take his cheek towards you and kiss his forehead reverently, like you mean to bless him, before you decide to take a bath.
He, ironically, likes bubbles and soaps with the softest smells; mostly fresh daisies and sweet smells. After helping you into the blissfully hot water, causing you to sigh softly, he sinks in behind you.
Washing has to ask for less time. As he does your hair, you take a small handful of bubbles and plop them on top of his head.
He is thoroughly nonplussed by this. “You’re such a brat,” he tells you quietly, in that same tone he uses to compliment you.
You shift back around, rocking the water, and hum as a pair of strong arms close around your waist. “My legs are still shaking.”
And for that, Levi clearly doesn’t give himself enough credit.
With one wide palm he rubs the aches out, and busies the other with smoothing your hair back so no shampoo stings your eyes. It took quite a bit of practice for him to get both good and gentle at doing it; he used to wash Isabel’s hair, but that was a long time ago.
“Thanks,” you murmur. Bubbles wobble around when you shift to make room so he can stretch his legs.
In reply, he kisses the shell of your ear. It’s nice, but it can’t last forever, either. An expedition is coming up soon—the last of the summer season.
You’ll be breathing clean air while your comrades’ blood is spilled for two weeks straight.
And spilled it is.
You haven’t seen running water or a warm bed in almost two weeks since departing from Karanese District. Some days are better than others, even some mornings less dire than nights, but considering how little you can bring yourself to sleep out here, you catch yourself thinking of it as one eternal, bloodsoaked day often.
However, today was—to put it lightly—especially dire.
The night is humid. The sun stole away the worst of the heat a while ago, but the air is thick, leaving dew staining the grass. Your mind is muddy, abandoned on the battlefield, but the adrenaline never really dries up outside the Walls. You could spring into battle the very next moment if the situation called for it.
The tent flap collapses shut behind you. As soon as the strategy for tomorrow and the day after was charted, Levi pushed himself off the wall and fled.
You always give him space when he needs, and you had concerns for the Commander: mainly a couple of caches that were abandoned after Maria fell, and whose retrieval was the main objective of this expedition.
But after today, you’re breaking that rule.
Levi being Levi, no one questions what he does. It's like him to skip pleasantries, but he isn’t waiting for you outside the tent, nor at the makeshift canteen (a glowing bonfire) where watery stew and ration crackers are being handed out.
It’s easy to pinpoint when things went awry, which makes the fact that you don’t understand what exactly happened all the more frustrating.
ODM was nearly useless in those long stretches of plain green fields. What made the situation more precarious was the old riverbank in the area that—back before Maria fell—used to carry ferries back and forth between districts with a metal pulley system. Given its size, it’s impossible to cross, and the rushing water is a drowning risk if the underlying metal didn’t break your back first.
And that’s exactly where Titan numbers grew overwhelming today. At the time, Gunther and Petra were elsewhere in the formation to assist other squads, leaving you, Eld, and Levi to yourselves.
With every step, if you focus hard enough you can still feel giant footsteps rattle your bones. Shitty luck had it that you were swatted by an Abnormal close enough to the steep riverside to be hurled into the water like a stone into a pond.
When you were a girl, your father’s political standing with the royal government allowed you the privilege to take swimming lessons. They would have, for once, proven useful if your loose hadn’t tangled you in a steel web after you hit water.
One free arm and as little as you could kick your feet didn’t mean a thing as you were tossed from rapid to rapid. Weeds and algae had infested in the absence of the ships, making what sparse rocks there were too slippery to grab.
You’re sometimes pushed to believe that Levi is attached to you not by heart or feeling, but an invisible twine. Lack of air combined with the constant red flood of adrenaline dragged the nightmare out exponentially, but you were told later it was a minute, if that, before Levi did one of the most reckless things he’s done in a long time and dove in after you.
In his defense, Eld told Levi that he couldn’t swim, so Levi lied and said he could. Otherwise, you would’ve drowned. Eld covered your backs during that time.
You remember a force stronger than the rapids taking hold of you, you remember hacking out lungfuls of water, shouting, the shove and yank of the water, and the scrambling—for something, anything. Dirt, even now, stays clotted underneath every single one of your fingernails—except two, for you no longer have them.
The only thing he did that was more bad than good was hold onto you, causing the tangled wires to be pulled tight like a snake around its meal. It was you who managed a snag on a fat, bulbous root wider than your palm could wrap around, but he was the one who plunged his sword into the wall of muddy earth, snapped his blade in half like shattering glass, and cut you free as much as the chaos you were neck-deep in allowed.
He ordered you, hold still, and then dread, as thick as oil. You don’t remember how he lost his hold on you—it all happened so fast—but as if in slow motion you can easily recall pivoting downstream, your palms greased from the wet earth in order to save your savior.
Levi can’t swim.
But then the surface of the water broke in the center of it all. Your shoulder is still killing you from where he first seized, then hauled you back to the wall with one arm, the other pushing the water aside.
You hadn’t froze up in years in battle, not until today, because who was carrying you just wasn’t Levi—not with glowing, unseeing marble in place of his eyes, not saying a word, not with that look on his face.
The next thing you knew, air was punched from your lungs with the force you were thrust upwards. Dirt smeared your cheek in ugly clumps and you clawed for purchase—ripping out earth for all you care—14 kilos of equipment and all.
Despite the fear running through your blood, you were about to call out to him when earth squelched and his elbow hooked around yours. He was himself again, with the command to either shed your gear or move faster.
So, you leaped. Wildgrass, stringy and thick, was all you needed—besides him shoving you by the bottom of your boot—to swing yourself over the precipice like a climb out of hell.
He was still normal when you literally dropped your arm over the edge and helped him the rest of the way—eyes sharp and determined, but still normal. If he hadn’t been, you have the feeling now that he wouldn’t have even needed your help.
That was somehow scarier to imagine.
Eld, blood steaming off his face, rode by on horseback to escort you due to the wretched state of your bloody hands. Levi stayed behind to clean up the rest of the Abnormals.
There’s nothing anyone should, or even could discuss in the heat of battle, but you still waited for a second look, something, even though that was foolish.
At first, you managed to convince yourself it was the white-hot adrenaline, or the pain so sharp it made your working mind feel somehow outside your body that conjured up what you saw. But after emerging from sleep in one of the wagons for the injured, you refused to doubt.
Levi is strong, but no one is unstoppable.
This rift wasn’t because you were slow to react for those few moments, or even that you launched off the wall to save his life. In fact when the two of you next spoke—before charting strategies with Erwin and the rest, but after the sun sank into the earth—he didn’t seem to understand at all beyond what was only obvious to him.
He asked, “How bad is it?”, and all you could bring yourself to do was shake your head. It felt so hard just to look at him; you were afraid if you did, you would see that other person again.
You haven’t spoken since, but to be fair you needed to recoup, to gather your wits again like a bunch of loose feathers. For all the scrapes, cuts, and contusions, you put the most energy into processing that power that overtook him for those few precious seconds. You struggled.
But it’s time to do something.
You grip the belts of the ODM tethered around your waist so you don’t end up picking at your bandaged fingers. Nervous habit.
You can’t forgo what little reprieve from the fight you now have without discussing it, and it’s guaranteed Levi won’t be the one to instigate the conversation—not until his frustrations completely boil over. He’s always needed help communicating, and this is certainly no exception.
Near the barricade at the entrance to the village is where you find him, seated on a log before one of the smaller campfires. It’s not necessary: where buildings don’t cover, makeshift barriers stand, and green capes in full ODM stand posted around the perimeter, but Levi is nothing if not vigilant.
“Hey,” you say.
He grunts, not so much as twitching at your approach. The roles are reversed now: he can’t seem to look at you.
You both bathe in the heat from the fire in silence until you can’t take the quiet anymore. Hands on your hips, you watch the flames. “You saved me today.”
“You would’ve done the same.”
“That’s not the point,” you argue softly, making yourself heard over the crackling firewood. “You can’t swim.”
Dirt scuffs behind you. Once his warm palm lands on the nape of your neck, tears immediately spring to your eyes. You feel yourself pull towards him—something almost scarily inevitable, like gravity pulling rain to the earth.
You return the gesture and sway there gently in silence. Both of you smell like dead fish dipped in blood, leather squeaks, and your gear clunks together, but neither of you care.
“Your injuries?” he asks against your lips, a little blandly.
You sway a little. “I’ll live.”
In response, he bullies the fingers on his free hand under the belt tethered by your hip, and holds you there.
In terms of an apology, he won’t give you one: there is no risk from today that he wouldn’t take all over again, but in terms of an explanation, he can’t.
“I just… knew what I had to do,” he attempts to explain, only to watch the look on your face turn pensive.
He recalls the look on your filthy face, eyes blown wide in fear once back on solid ground. By the time he rejoined the formation and you woke up, it hadn’t gone away, not completely.
A fear of his own seizes him, so he pulls away. He can’t look at you. He fears that if he does, he will see it oozing from your expression again.
Very rarely does he see you truly afraid. You’ve almost met death multiple times. It’s him, it must be, because he can’t fucking swim and yet he saved both your lives despite every facet of the situation that should have made survival impossible.
In that moment, he felt, or was, unstoppable. He’s felt that way before, and you’ve seen him do the impossible before—he fails to understand what’s so different this time.
“What is it?”
He makes his voice carefully even, but you know him better. You take a steadying breath before launching into an explanation of your side of the story: what you saw, how you didn’t believe it at first, and how you felt—how the fine hairs on the back of your neck stood up when he grabbed you, how your blood froze and how astounding his sudden strength.
Now he’s sitting, arms crossed over his knees while you scuff the dirt with the toe of your boot. When you describe the way he looked, he asks, “What was wrong with them?” and you look away.
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
He frowns. “Spit it out.”
“It was like you weren’t even there. They—well, glowed.”
Silence. You attempt to make the one-sided conversation light. “It’d be impressive, if it wasn’t life-or-death, of course.”
“I don’t remember any of that,” he admits quietly, barely audible over even the crickets.
Shadows dance across his face as you ask what he means by that.
He shakes his head and repeats himself like a broken record. He never remembers those moments. It’s an experience only comparable to spectating your own falling body while it expertly kicks and flails in search of solid ground.
Maybe it isn’t that he knew what he had to do, but his body. It acts sometimes without his permission, but only to defy death when he himself cannot. At that point he’s instinct alone, an empty mind, a blank slate.
“Have you ever had moments like that?” he ventures to ask, not looking at you because he’s confident what you’ll say.
You give it some genuine thought, raking through your memories. “No, Lee. I haven’t.”
As he thought. He says nothing, but scooches to make room for you to sink down on the log beside him. You ask why.
“Forget I asked.” If you were scared of him then, or now as you described it, then there’s the possibility of tomorrow; it’s better the conversation ends here.
You drape your bandaged hand over his scraped knuckles. “It’s okay,” you say.
Levi measures the breaths he takes. There must already be alarms going off in your head, alerts that he’s upset, but you wouldn’t understand no matter what he said. He understands it very little himself.
“It really was impressive,” you go on, squeezing a little despite the pain. “And I wanna know what you think.”
“Were you scared?”
You look up, but his hollow eyes are on the fire. The way he’s turned only lets you see half of his face.
Feeling frayed, “Everyone’s scared to die, aren’t they?”
“...You mean—” your heart falls, “—of you?”
He says nothing. Frowning deeply, you carefully put your hand on his shoulder, giving him the freedom to shrug you off, which he does, albeit hesitantly.
He stops you. “You’d have every right to, if you were. Or are. Don’t spare my feelings because you’re—you.”
“I wouldn’t,” you protest. It stings that he assumes you’d lie.
“I know.” His expression turns hollow. “I’m just saying I’d get it—if you were scared. I didn’t know all that until you said it. So, if you’re scared–”
You’re happy to hear him out until he starts to repeat himself.
“Levi, stop.” You shake your head, incredulous with him. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I mean it. I’ve never actually been scared of you; except in the beginning, maybe.”
Who wasn’t? One time, a Scout remarked that Isabel was a ‘snot-nosed bitch’ within Levi’s earshot, and he marched right up to the guy and said nothing before kicking the absolute shit out of him. He was put on medical leave for weeks.
In no way does he look or sound amused, but at least he doesn’t rebuke you. You go on, remaining truthful: the situation itself was at the root of the terror you felt, not him. In that moment, yes, you were scared, but it never crossed your mind that he would hurt you.
“Would I be here if I was scared of you?”
He scans your expression for a hint of deception, but finds none. This conversation is new to you both, not because he went out of his way to hide it from you, but he always excused those blank moments away as heightened instincts.
He’s used to it, that power. He was as defenseless as any kid before it awakened in him. As for you, he can’t recall ever being in such close proximity when those instincts took over—not surprising, since it’s near-impossible to keep your eyes on each other when there’s a battlefield raging around you.
Again: “Why did you ask if I’ve ever had a moment like that before?”
Levi looks away, feeling his eyes ache when he closes them. “It’s kind of unbelievable.”
Your pinkie closes around his own, and he links them. “The man who raised me had those moments too.”
He opens his eyes. There are a plethora of reasons why Levi would rather not think of himself as related to Kenny in any way. He felt that way before he left him too, but the difference is that assuming he was explained away why he saved his life. Few things could explain why Kenny left.
So that conclusion is trembling, it’s cruel, and it’s shameful. It was enough that he had to come to the conclusion that Kenny left him that day because he couldn’t measure up to the strength he always spoke so highly of.
“...Can I ask a more personal question?”
“Did—your mom ever mention anything?”
For an endless stretch of time, he doesn’t reply. His knitted brow tells you he’s wracking his memory for something, anything; if not something about the power, then anything out of the ordinary.
“I was too young, so not really.”
You quirk a brow suggestively. Not really isn’t a Not at all.
“She told me once that we don’t have a last name because we’re good people,” he finally says, then pauses. “So, as I said, no. Not really.”
And you know even less. You decide to let this topic go. “How I feel about you is the furthest thing from scared,” you murmur.
He gives you a small, meaningful glance, then nudges your temple with his lips. “Thank you.”
You rest there in silence for some time, just like that. Crickets sing their songs and lightning bugs blink in the darkness. It’s still sinking in that you’ve both made it through another day. He doesn’t want to forget, so he can’t bring himself to admit he needs to be alone right now. Not yet.
“Will you sleep?”
He gives you a look, because you know the answer to that question. Still, you encourage that he get a few hours at least.
If he’s not mistaken, a majority of the force is sleeping in barns, so he’s in no hurry.
You kiss his temple, and leave him.
Levi makes himself at home in his head until his backside falls asleep and the flames die down in the heart of the logs.
He’ll never know the answers—hell, if only he knew the questions. Power—the power—was Kenny’s religion, if some idiot could ever think him a religious man. Kenny loved to talk, but he never bothered to tell Levi anything important those years he looked after him. He never even learned Kenny’s last name.
It doesn’t matter, he reasons, because no matter the reason he possesses the power, no matter where it came from or if it’ll ever leave him—it’s his to use.
It’s the perfect strength, the keenest of instincts, and it’s his.
One thing is terribly obvious to him now. The reason, then, that he’s so often left behind is because he’s not good enough, compared to the power. There’s in the end no one, and nothing else, deserving of more blame.
But today he was good enough, and for that he can forgive himself. Just for today.
The most notable thing about the charge back to Wall Rose is the incessant rain: the ground more resembles mush than earth, the rivers spill over into the soggy grass, and everyone is waterlogged in one way or another, most from head to toe.
As a result, it takes three days longer than it should to reach the gates: visibility is worse than terrible, the horses have a hard time moving in it, and the quickest route runs beside the main riverbanks. It isn’t an option.
It goes without saying that Levi is jumpier than usual. He’s snippy you decided not to ride with the injured, and with the rain on top of that, he might as well have a stormcloud over his head (and Oluo too, for how hard he tries to imitate him).
But he never complains. Scouting leaves no room for bitching about the rain when any one of your friends got swallowed before your eyes days before. He very much wears a stony mask on expeditions, where he’s no longer himself, but fierce in his role as Captain; you as his Lieutenant.
Still. Through the mist and the haze and the rain clinging to your bones, as the visage of Rose plastered to Trost’s gate broke through the fog, you just about tear up. For once, it isn’t the rain. Petra laughs out loud and Oluo admonishes her for it, but then he starts laughing too.
“And just when I thought we wouldn’t make it!”
Gunther whistled. “What a sight.”
“Not until we’re all inside,” you caution them, remembering yourself, and the glimmer of celebration dies down.
Levi tosses a look back at you and motions towards the head of the formation, where Erwin is sure to be. Inevitably, Hange and Mike are already parting their squads to join him, as is customary.
You’re not obligated to join him like the rest, you two sharing leadership of the squad, so you shake your head. You’re not thrilled for the crowd of disgruntled townsfolk to crowd you all, to hear—no matter how hard you try to tune them out—their gasps of dismay, for them to jeer at the blood spilled and say: “Those damned Scouts. It’s like they want to die,” and so on and so on and so on.
Levi nods. “Meet back.”
That is Levi-speak for, See you at our place as soon as you’re finished showering.
You wonder if you’ll have the energy. You could doze off on your trotting horse.
A nod. “Sir.”
You spot the second most notable thing, ironically, once you’ve trudged past the gates ahead of the rest of your squad. Your mind is a waking fog, the world mere background decor, but it’s difficult to miss kids at a funeral. It’s the Cadet Corps.
You toss a look over, and spot them in a row with no sign of Shadis, unsurprisingly. It’s customary for them to attend the return of the last expedition before graduation.
Very few, as usual, are doing anything but paying attention, but three watch on raptly enough to make up for the rest. It’s easy to tell which ones saw Maria fall.
The bold stare on one of them unnerves you. Running away from Titans isn’t the same as slaying them, and even then…
The split-second the blond one catches your eye, you turn your head forward, feeling nothing but dread.
The rest is a blur until that first spray of hot water pelts your head, but even now you might as well be a ghost. Water beating the floor bounces off your ears, the saddle once beneath you now only an echo of an ache on your thighs and backside. Distantly, your entire body stings, sorest of all your hands. Even where you stand, scrubbing mud and grime and clotted blood still clinging to your hair, you waver on your feet.
On the way back, Alina died. Eaten. It’s hard to believe she was on your squad so long ago when even yesterday feels like an eternity ago.
She was always clumsy, you muse, hating yourself. The last time you saw her personally was Mayfest last year. Who was she with? What did you talk about?
You search for meaning in the meaningless. It was as simple as scanning the composite list of casualties two days ago, and catching her name. A life, a memory, a name—blinked out of existence, just like that. There’s nothing you could’ve done.
“Those goddamn Scouts. It’s like they want to die.”
Abruptly, a sob bubbles up in your chest. It’s dry, silent weeping at first, but then tears. Then more, and more, and you’re blubbering in the shower, the ache on the inside intertwining with the physical. Your head pounds.
You don’t register it when the water begins to bleed cold. With your bare legs folded against your chest, you sit against the wall dry-heaving because you’re out of tears to cry. More than Alina, it’s a pain that’s hard to explain.
You’re so tired of saying goodbye; the friends you’ve grieved, whose families you’ve had to give your condolences to, usually, if not always accompanied by either Hange or Levi. Your heart is a bottomless graveyard. You couldn’t possibly spare enough tears for each of them, but your heart is stubborn enough to try.
Levi finds you this way after he knocks on the door, hearing the water, but not you. You’re not quite there to comprehend his voice, nor his warning that he’s coming in—not until he appears in the open curtain, parted just slightly. Suddenly, you’re far too aware of everything.
“I’m sorry,” you hear yourself rasp. “I wasn’t thinking, wasted water, sorry.”
He tugs it a little wider. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he tells you gently.
The wooden mechanism cries as it’s shut off, followed by the drip-drip-drip, then the quiet, which is somehow deafening. You notice his cravat is gone, and he’s already peeled his jacket, boots, and waistskirt off, but other than that he’s still in uniform; it’s hard to imagine his shirt ever once being pressed and white.
Another apology sits on your tongue—eventually Levi was always going to come scrub the filth of the past two weeks off him—but you keep it to yourself, as he said.
“Can I come in?”
“Please,” you whisper.
He does, and crouches down heavily. A fluffy towel is draped over your shoulders.
“I’m still disgusting,” he warns, “but do you want help getting up?”
“Please,” you say again.
He rolls up his filthy sleeves, then helps you rise to your feet. Now that you don’t have to keep it together anymore, it all comes crumbling down. Even Levi isn’t impervious to it.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”
On the lid of the toilet you wring the towel through your hair. He does the rest, thoroughly, which reminds you that you have little idea how you’d cope without him.
He leaves you for only a moment to retrieve a fresh change of clothes for you, and it’s only with the stiff way he drops them on the counter that you start to worry it’s more than post-expedition fatigue.
Your jaw tightens. “Are you hurt?”
Either you’ve both been through enough, or he’s too tired to argue. “It’s not bad.”
First of all, he needs to clean up. You’ll get dressed, and he’ll join you soon.
You relent, unsurprised when “soon” turns into a half-hour. Levi’s brief, combat-style showers are unthinkable just after an expedition. It’s no wonder why, but this time you have reason to worry.
Too sick to even think of eating, you chip away at the paperwork at his desk—numbers to add, death certificates, field reports, numbers to subtract—while you wait. He must’ve spoken with Erwin. You wonder what they talked about; not even Erwin is immune to everything, no matter how his own mask portrays him to be.
While you work, you think of nothing, but at the same time, everything. Every second, every sound, every sensation. The snapping of jaws.
You rub your temples and rationalize that if Levi is injured that badly, he would have no choice but to see a medic, but never without some push and shove. Even if he was bleeding out he would claim it was a waste of resources.
After listening like a hawk for the water to shut off for an eternity, it finally does. In short sleeves and baggy pants, you meet him in front of the bathroom door, him staring at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real.
“We still have shit to do,” he states blandly.
You ignore him and ask, “Where are you hurt?” as you lead him by the small of his back in the direction of the bedroom.
It takes a little push and shove for him to relent, as always. He mentions something about a mother hen and a little bruising and more words that, at their root, mean, It’s not bad, up until you ask him to show you, and he hesitates.
“Levi.” Sat on the foot of the bed beside him, you remain firm. “I’m not asking anymore.”
He scowls at you weakly. “It’s not the end of the world.”
He straightens up when he hears your voice shake, then winces a little. “It’s—It’s not. I wanted to see if tightening my belts would make me more accurate, and it did. They’ll be gone by next time.”
You could scream. “You idiot. You run yourself into the ground already—what’s hurting yourself gonna do?” Your next breath shudders. “You’re too important, and not just to me.”
“It saved more lives,” he argues stubbornly. “Don’t you get sick of watching your comrades die?”
You stop, hanging onto your last breath, and hang your head a little. You’d think after so many years seeing death everywhere you look, you’d be used to it by now, but this was an old friend.
“Who doesn’t?” you remark, staring at a crack in the floorboard. “But you’re not just someone’s comrade, and you know that. You’re being careless.”
“…You lost someone, didn’t you?”
It’s less of a question, more of an observation. Calmly, he takes your twitching hand in his own to rub the aches out of them—always from the ODM triggers—careful to avoid bandaged spots.
With a shake of your head, you tug on his knee to encourage him to face you. “Let me see.”
He shuffles towards you, but he doesn’t look happy about it. “You were crying.”
“I cry at everything,” you dismiss easily, guiding his chin towards you. Though his frown is weighted by stones, waiting to see what you have to say, his cheeks are soft cradled in your hands.
Reverently, you lean in and press a fragile kiss to his forehead. “Levi, love of my life, this is stupid,” you tell him as lovingly as possible. “Even if I wasn’t here to worry about you, you can’t do this. All you can do is all you can do, and even then… I’ve seen you do more than anyone.” You often. “I’d feel a lot better if you showed me. There’s solutions to bruises.”
He melts—a little at first, then like butter in a hot skillet. “...Fine.”
With a little help, he stiffly pulls his shirt over his head. Forcefully, you put on a mask of careful indifference. You know how guilty he feels every time something like this happens as a result of good-intentioned, but self-sacrificing actions.
Bruising, as he said. Where his harness once was—four corners stretching both under his arms and over both shoulders—there’s bruising. Bruises criss-cross in an X shape following down his lower back, which disappears under his trousers. His chest is no different: a mess of purplish-bluish-black stretches across his stocky chest, follows down his midsection, and disappears in a V shape below his waist.
You again resist an urge, this time to shake him. You’re willing to bet more circle around his upper thighs, that they wind down his legs, and dig into the bottoms of his feet.
You stand abruptly to dig through the bathroom for lotion and first-aid, but not without petting his head first so he knows there’s no more anger waiting to be spewed. “Stay here.”
You’re more worried than even disappointed anymore. If it’s as you suspect and there’s no exception to where his ODM was strapped on, then the only places he was spared are his arms, his lower legs, and (of course) from the neck up.
That’s it, no more work tonight. You’ll strap him down if you have to.
Back in the bedroom, he did as you said, but with the favor of dressing down to just his briefs, which makes you feel a little lighter. There are bruises on his thighs. His clothes are neatly folded by his side.
He straightens up just as you climb onto the bed behind him and uncap the bottle. “I met with Erwin earlier. There’s death certificates to take care of. Letters too, after you’re done.”
“It’ll be a little cold at first.”
Then cold, cold cream lands on his shoulders, which you immediately begin to lather. You dig your fingertips in just a little, and he knuckles the bedspread, fighting a groan.
“Look, I heard what you said, but we shouldn’t keep those families waiting.”
“You look. If Erwin knew about this—” you pop your head over his shoulder and gesture down, “—he’d tell you to do the same thing I’m doing now. Say, hypothetically, he somehow found out…”
He’s not impressed by your threat of blackmail, but doesn’t argue. Erwin is a bigger force to be reckoned with. Levi could get put off-duty, or worse, lectured.
The stuff you’re massaging into his back, right between his shoulderblades, must’ve been expensive: it’s actually thick, actually consistent, and actually doing something. Eventually, the cold fades into an icy sort of burn that’s so powerful he feels his muscles physically loosen.
He had no idea just how tightly he was wound until you start kneading your palms in—not too hard, mindful of the bruises themselves—and he has to fight his eyes on shutting, then his mind on dozing.
This and that can wait until tomorrow, you keep saying. You keep rebuking him, and he starts to have real trouble arguing now that you’re almost through with the muscles on his lower back. It has to be the worst there, because it’s never been so hard to resist showing how much he’s enjoying this.
“No,” he huffs. “Your injuries—”
“Oh? They don’t? Should I go harder?”
He knows what you’re doing. Maybe it’s better he just suffers the consequences of his actions. His thighs throb dully.
Breathing hard, he finally manages, “What if I can’t sleep?”
“For once I doubt that,” you retort, sounding very pleased with yourself.
Fuck you for always reading him so well. He shudders a breath as you get through with his hips, and says nothing.
Now you round his other side and kneel down, looking almost scarily determined. There really is no changing your mind, let alone stopping you.
Strange. When he actually lets go a little, he feels less stressed. Nothing exists except for your magic hands and the focused little frown on your face as you work, and the sounds are your breaths and his much heavier ones.
So he doesn’t fall asleep, he watches your face as you move over his pecs. His middle isn’t as bad, so he can focus to talk, and explain.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that recruitment is in the ground—ah—has been for years now, and our living-to-dead ratio per expedition isn’t great, either.”
You click your tongue as you settle between his legs. “It’s better than before Erwin came up with the long-range formation.”
Not that he’s wrong.
The lotion is terribly slippery in your hands, shaded a very diluted yellow that makes his skin almost shine when you rub it into his twitching belly muscles. It’s obvious how well it’s working—not that you plan to tell him how expensive it was—but you also notice, with unease, the way it makes the violent bruising brighter and somehow angrier than before.
He grunts in disagreement, though you aren’t wrong. While Shadis was Commander—and before that, he’s told—a great deal of what the Scouts used to do outside the Walls was group up in squads, ride together, and recover as much territory as they could, until they could no longer.
Thing is, Titan country is never short on Titans, which frustrates Levi to no end.
As far as they know (as far as Hange’s figured out, rather), the way they breed is a complete mystery. Where they come from, why, and for what horrific reason they like to eat people has been a mystery since history became history.
He thinks, dejectedly, that the most compelling piece of data they’ve collected since he joined up was that notebook a Scout named Ilse Langnar was found clutching. His and Hange’s squads recovered her from the depths of a hollowed-out tree a Titan had stuck her in. It spoke to her, called her by a different name, even.
Now that he thinks about it, forget data: all they reaped from that day was a heap of more questions.
“I spoke to Erwin about a fortnight ago before we left,” you’re saying. You’ve skipped past his thighs for now, and sit cross-legged on the floor massaging the bottom of his foot, which is propped up on your knee.
He practically punctures the bedspread from clutching so hard in order to resist twitching, flinching, and especially launching into a fit of laughter.
“What—” He moans under his breath,“—What was it. What’d you talk about?”
You’re forced to pin his ankle down so he doesn’t twitch away from you. So ticklish. He’s lucky he’s cute.
“Captain Levi, you better sit still.”
He huffs petulantly. “Fuck you. It’s your fault. Deal with it.”
“Is it really?” You dart your thumbs on his most ticklish area just to rile him up. You hear a gasp, then only a hint of a raspy chuckle before he nearly kicks you in the face—accidentally, of course.
Maybe it isn’t your fault. He’s willing to agree with anything you say if it’ll get him to sleep sooner.
His bruises pang dully, an amazing improvement from before. A profound heaviness drags him further and further into a warm nothingness. You make it very easy.
You decided to be generous and massaged his calves anyway. Up you go now. Almost done.
You return to what you were saying before. Erwin briefly confided in you and Mike over drinks when the discussion of future expeditions came up about two weeks ago; sealing Shiganshina bled heavily into that conversation.
Levi’s right that they don’t have enough bodies. The Survey Corps has always been an unpopular regiment for obvious reasons, and what’s worse, there’s no doubt numbers would be even less by the time you made it to the gates.
Even if you all traveled during nightfall, you’d have nothing to seal the gates themselves with. Stone is too heavy for the horses; Hange claims Titans aren’t tricked by tarp, nor canvas, nor wool, and even if they thought up a solution, there’s a good chance most of who’s left would die on the return home—if anyone is left.
You’re in a bad way, to be very vague and very blithe.
Levi grunts. You’re molding your fingertips with each side of his knees now, a fresh dollop of lotion making him shiver.
“Those abnormal idiots haven’t been seen in almost five years.” He groans. “Fuck, not so hard.”
You ease up, flex your smarting fingers, and wait until he goes boneless again. After what he just said, you almost want to knock on wood.
“Yeah, but that’s no reason to get comfortable.”
His hands planted back behind him are all that’s keeping him upright now. “Obviously. I’m just taking account of our shitty situation.”
“I know, angel.”
His eyes are closed. “Erwin will figure something out. He always does, is. His brain never stops working. Probably doesn���t sleep, that bastard.”
You chitter a little, amused. “You don’t sleep.”
You don’t think he’s listening. “Why don’t you lay back?”
He peels his eyes open. “With this slime all over me?”
“I’m not asking,” you tell him again.
With a little effort, he manages until his head is on the pillows. The bruises on his back throb a little, but the good pain wins over the bad until he floats at the very edge of a pleasant, dull sleep. The next thing he knows, you’re back between his legs, massaging more lotion into one of his heavy thighs.
He shades his eyes with his arm and ignores the fact that he’s somehow half-hard. After the past two weeks, how is that even possible?
“Almost done,” you sigh softly, sounding pleased.
All this attention generously given to him when you never addressed who you lost out there earlier. You never snap at him, and after what he said, that’s how he knew.
He wishes it was more rare that he found you in such a state upon coming back. Part of him too is still out there, fighting, so much so that the sight of you standing after he showered stunned him for a moment.
What can be done about those things? Nothing. There’s no fixed solution, no light at the end of the tunnel guaranteed, but there’s always something he can do as far as you’re concerned.
Whatever that thing is that makes him fearless, and somehow completely safe, and happy, but also scared—he can at least share that with you. Let it consume you both. He knows there’s a name for it, but he doesn’t want to name it, not right now.
His pensive eyes are on you as you finish up. Watching you so candidly leaves him feeling excruciatingly sappy even when all the grief forces him to feel nothing.
He gets like that after every expedition. Tomorrow, without fail, he’ll be on a cleaning frenzy (he’s been antsy; two weeks gives dust plenty of opportunity to collect), and you’ll likely be forging his signature so there’s less work for you both to do later. His name looks better in your handwriting, anyway.
HQ will be somber, quiet, in mourning. Unlike Shadis, Erwin mandates a day off after each expedition. In the worst of cases, two.
Much later—or not, time has blurred together—he instinctively rolls over to you and lays his head down on your chest. He’s wearing pants again.
Then, he sees the light dim down behind his eyelids, and remembers himself a little. “Your fingers.”
“Bad, but not that bad,” you murmur, combing his hair backwards. “I cleaned up while you were asleep.”
Overwhelmed, his jaw moves a little uselessly. “That’s not fair.”
“Tomorrow,” you assure him, but he insists on asking, just in case, about whoever you lost. The pain on your face earlier was palpable.
“No, I’m happy right now,” you sigh wetly. “It made me feel better to, to make you feel better. So please.”
He uses the very last of his energy to lean up and kiss you somewhere—he thinks your jaw.
“Fine.” He’s whispering this. “But that goes both ways. Tomorrow let me—”
“Always.” You kiss his hair. "I will."
| levi masterlist | main masterlist |
Late night thoughts #10:
It's not that he wouldn't hold your hand in the public, it's more like he couldn't. Levi does not only have a reputation to uphold, but also fighting his inner conflicts. He is so used to being alone, being the lighthouse of hope to people. He doesn't know how to be in the state of love.
He loves by being protective. And the captain is always on his heels, looking out for danger.
So you give him his space in the public, walking next to him or slightly ahead him but still within touch. People would thank and compliment him on the streets, making him feel uneasy of the attention. Attention was a bad thing in the underground. It means you are going to get mugged.
He would pull you around by your elbow when he sees people getting too close to you, and gives death glares to men staring at you for too long when you are picking something out at the store.
One day, on the way back, on a quiet road, he slowly links his pinky with yours, trying to get permission to hold your hand. You slip your palm into his, feeling his long, delicate fingers intertwining with yours. He would do the thumb thing that makes your chest warms up.
Bonus: Erwin is walking behind you silently and takes a mental note to tease Levi later that night.
standing at the crossroads: chapter 5
Captain Levi is your lover. But more importantly, he’s your superior, and you’re well prepared to follow him to hell if he needs you to. And when people start turning into titans, and every bloody death is one step closer to the truth, hell may be exactly where you’re going.
Chapter 4 | Series Masterlist
taglist: @whore-for-anime, @macaronnv, @sparklython, @marciabito, @rintarhoes, @honeycakiee, @dracq, @welcometofunkytown, @tokyo-banana, @andsothemonsterscrept, @c0urtn3y, @rukova, @deadlyaffairs, @yellowminb, @sempiternalxmusic, @lacheri, @midaribaby, @rawritzrobin, @meeraaa-17, @atinyarmyx1, @kissalix, @inaaavae, @castellandiangelo, @ackermandick, @missyasma, @tenaciouswritersheep, @notgoodforlife, @sakurashell, @lqme, @affection-thief
chapter warnings: female!reader, canon-typical violence, grief, survivor’s guilt, self-deprecating thoughts, blood
a/n: reader does a lot of thinking in this chapter lol. also hello. i’m so sorry for the late update. it’s been a hellish semester. i am graduating tomorrow, and i’m very excited.
People keep pushing you in their rush, but you still manage to weave through them easily enough, sidestepping and zigzagging the crowd. There is a steadily rising panic in the air, but for now, your heart isn’t beating madly nor are you frantic in your movements, just naturally rushed. Maybe you’ve just had so much excitement today that your ability to react appropriately has been shot, or maybe seeing everyone else so freaked out is having the opposite effect on you. Whatever it is, you’re grateful. Now is no time to get agitated, not when humanity’s fate is on the line.
“Captain.” You’re not even out of breath by the time you find the person you’ve been looking for.
“I heard. I’m headed for the office they put Erwin in.” Without breaking step, you fall in next to him, swerving around all the people going both in the same and the opposite direction. “You got checked out, didn’t you? Can you ride?”
“Yes, sir.” Actually, you’re not even close to any kind of injured status. Just some minor scratches from the rocks. You’ve fought with worse.
A peek outside the window shows you the sun has nearly set. Your heart pulses in fear—riding into titan country at night is terrifying, but there’s nothing else to be done.
“Are you going to ride out too?”
“What kind of question is that?” Levi mutters.
“A fair one,” you argue, with conviction in your tone. He’s in no shape to fight. “I’ll follow you out, but—”
“Good to know.”
Your cheek twitches in irritation. It’s not the time to get all antsy with him. Right now is the time to follow orders and save people, get them inside the last wall. What Thomas said…well, it made you fairly certain that the titans were already deep inside Wall Rose. There must have been countless casualties already. Civilian casualties, which is a new world of horror that you’re decidedly not thinking about right now. Just like you’re not thinking about the ones in Stohess, or the way your friends were killed in the forest.
You don’t know when the right time is to think about these things, but it’s definitely not now.
“What do you need from me?”
After all, there’s no need for you to hear Commander Erwin’s debriefing (or, more likely, stand outside while Levi receives it), so you might as well stay busy.
Levi thinks for a second, then inclines his head, looking at you but more looking through you as he says, “Go help Hange. We’ll meet up later.”
Exhaling deeply, you take the promise for what it is and murmur a, “Yes, sir,” before separating from him. Lately, in these small moments together, it’s like you can hear the slow ticking of a clock, marking down the seconds. Reminding you that you don’t have many moments left. That any time you ride out could be your last.
Oh Rose, this isn’t a time to freak yourself out. Hange. You’re supposed to find Hange. She should have gotten some kind of office inside this base as well. Or a lab, at least.
Sure enough, when you follow the cracks in the walls, you find her, hunched over a desk observing something. Right as you enter, Moblit turns to exit. In his haste, he doesn’t see you over the large boxes he’s carrying.
The two of you crash. With a yelp, Moblit tips this way and that, sending the box at the top teetering over the edge, and then falling down to the ground. In a flash, you lean down and catch it, gasping as you look up at him. He stares with equally wide eyes.
“Oh, good, more hands!” Hange spares you a glance, unaware of the near accident. “(F/N), be a doll and help him move the boxes to the wagons, will you?”
“Yes, sir.” You exhale shakily, gazing meaningfully at Moblit. “Here, give me the other one. You grab more.”
He nods, dumping the weight into your arms. You grunt, but stand up straight as he scoops up the rest. Now that you’re seeing clearly, this room is only half a lab. The other half serves as storage. A peek down at the box tells you what you need to know. Emergency rations. Blankets, nonperishables, other things to hand out to refugees.
“We’ll fill up the wagons, but Hange, we’re going to leave soon, so please don’t take too long!”
“Mmhm!” She agrees so noncommittally that she may as well have just refused.
“I heard you!” Lifting her head up, she grins at you. “Times like this are when I hope he’s not this loud in bed.”
Moblit burns red and says, “Hange!” in the most scandalized voice you’ve ever heard. You chuckle softly, feeling your knuckles strengthen against the wood. Honestly, you really did need the major’s humor now more than ever. It’s comforting in times like this, when the one thing you can’t do is lose your head.
However, there’s also no time to dawdle. You and Moblit quickly rush out, running side by side to fill the wagon up. Even if all of them are filled to the brim, it won’t be enough. But still, something is better than nothing. If there are any boxes left within the base by the time you leave, you’ll consider the task failed.
Your mind is oddly blank. Which is surprising, considering that the last time you thought Wall Rose had been breached, you’d panicked and nearly been accused of treason, but things have changed, so a different attitude isn’t really that strange. The titans aren’t right at your doorstep, you’ll get a couple hours to prepare from the looks of it, and most importantly, you know that there’s someone who can stop the titans—Eren.
That is, if he manages to get back into top shape and transform without any complications. For now, all you can do is hope for the best.
Oh, but hope is so dangerous. You know that more than ever now.
There’s a slight rattling, and you turn your head to realize it’s coming from the box in Moblit’s hands. More specifically, from how his hands are shaking the contents inside.
“Moblit.” You try to snap him out of it, but one measly call of his name doesn’t work. “Moblit! Hey, listen to me, Berner!”
An anxious face meets yours right as you drop the box onto the wagon. On it, you see stress like you’ve never known before. Moblit’s good on expeditions, better than someone who didn’t know him would expect. He’s like you in a way, worried beforehand but far more collected when there’s an actual fight. He’s been in the Survey Corp longer, even been Hange’s assistant longer than your entire Scouting career. You’ve seen his ugly side, when he snaps at a poor passerby because of the amount of work he has to do, or when he drinks one too many cups and Rashad and Abel have to haul him over their shoulders and carry him to bed. Everyone has ugly sides, his is actually relatively normal.
But at the moment, you can’t let him freak himself out, because no doubt it’s contagious. “Just a couple boxes at a time, okay?” You place your hands on his shoulders. “Just keep going, fill up the wagon, and then we’ll head out. Yeah?”
He nods, but you keep a hold on him until he nods with more conviction.
“I’m good,” he breathes, squeezing your palm as he pulls it off. Reassured, you start walking again, and he keeps up. “I hope the others are okay.”
The others. Nanaba, Gaelgar, Lynne and Henning. Mike. Mike Squad. Who are already down one person since Thomas is here.
“They’re fine.” You swallow. “They’ll be fine.”
The realist in you pleads for you not to throw around statements that you know can’t be proven, but imagining everything that could go wrong will hinder you, and you can’t afford to be hindered.
So, you tell your head and your heart that they will be fine, and don’t budge from that singular thought.
A hand circles your wrist before you can try and find Levi amidst the chaos. “At least say goodbye,” Millie snipes crossly.
You do more than that. Hands on her back, you pull her in, fingers tightening into the curls on her nape. Hugging her feels like more than just a casual parting. It’s been three years since you’ve seen her, and now, you have no idea when the next time will be. For all you know, you’re going to be one of the lives lost in the attempts to reclaim Wall Rose.
Millie knows that. She holds you quietly, like a friend, like a sister, more gentle than anyone’s ever been with you. She kisses your cheek and whispers, “Three pages. At least three pages next time. Okay?”
It’s a simple but effective way of telling you to stay alive. “I’ll do my best,” you murmur, mimicking the same words Levi had said to you the day Wall Maria fell. From personal experience, you know they’re not entirely reassuring, but they’re better than the alternative. Empty promises don’t do anyone any good.
“(L/N),” your captain’s voice calls you from a couple feet away, “time to go.”
But Millie hangs on to you a couple seconds longer, and you don’t protest.
“Good luck,” she says in a hushed tone. You nod, giving her one last squeeze before separating. Almost naturally, the two of you salute each other, reminding both yourselves and the other which life you’ve chosen.
And then you part from Millie, and rejoin your captain. He’d waited, even though you’re pressed for time. You suppose you should thank him for that, but he doesn’t spare you a moment to do anything of the sort before he’s debriefing you. Apparently, the commander thought it would be cute to form little groups. The two of you will be with Hange, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and—
He’s someone you’ve seen a couple times growing up. People are more religious within Wall Sina than they are in other parts of the walls, and even though your mother had always turned her nose up at the church, it’d be impossible for you to avoid them entirely. Over the years, they’d spread far and wide, and Pastor Nick was well known, so when he came to Stohess, everyone would be abuzz with excitement. More recently, you’d seen him at Eren’s trial, naturally on the side opposite the Scouts, the one that wanted Eren dead.
The man gives you a short look. His brows furrow as though he recognizes you, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Oh, good, you’re already acquainted!” Hange emerges from behind him, which is when you realize that the pastor doesn’t particularly look like he wants to be here. “Maybe you can get some information out of him, then.”
Your gaze goes from her to where Pastor Nick is averting his eyes, keeping them trained firmly on the ground. “What information?”
“It’s about our friend up inside the wall. See, Nick here knows something and refuses to tell us.”
Oh. The titan. It had been so bizarre that you’d elected to ignore it altogether. And then the news came about Wall Rose, so it had been the least of your worries. But now that you are thinking about it…
It’s deeply unsettling.
“Sorry, Major. My family wasn’t very well renowned by the church.” Then you address him directly. “Unless you’re feeling friendly?”
The only answer you get is a slight scoff. More of an answer than you anticipated, honestly. And you’re more tired than you expected yourself to be, so you don’t have the energy to push further. If Hange couldn’t crack him, then what are your chances?
Damn, you shouldn’t be this drained when there’s a fight coming. The fear, at the very least, should keep you from letting your guard down at the worst possible time. Maybe it’ll make up for the lack of sleep you’ve gotten in the past twenty-four hours.
All of you get in the cart. You’re smushed against the side, Levi on your left, then Pastor Nick, then Hange. Her squad is supposedly up the front with the commander, for whatever reason. You’re not going to try and figure out Erwin’s play. Not tonight. As Hange explains the situation with the pastor to the three teens, you focus on the hooves of the horses as they ride out of Stohess.
Leaving this time hurts much worse than it did all those years ago.
There goes the promise of a safe life. Right here, with Levi, is the rest of yours.
Thing is, you think you’d feel just as much despair if you’d still been in Stohess and had to part from him as he left without you.
Your life companion. Your captain. Your superior. That’s better than any lousy husband or wife. Right? Right? Yeah. Right.
A part of you wonders if married couples that are in love ever feel the same disconnect that you do from Levi right now. You’re not angry with him, how could you be when he hasn’t done anything to hurt you? No, you’re angry with yourself, angry for letting him down, and he’s angry at you for being angry with yourself, and the whole thing is so, so stupid.
If you weren’t in a moving cart with five other people, you think maybe you’d kiss him. You haven’t kissed him in…however long it’s been, it’s been too long.
Titans. Titans are in Wall Rose. No kissing, no hugging, only fighting, only slicing their napes open. Again, and again, and again, until…until…
“To hell with that!” Eren snaps you out of your reverie as he stands, slamming his hands down on the table. “No, we’re doing this backwards! If this son of a bitch knows something, he needs to come out with it! Humanity’s on the brink of extinction and all you care about is keeping your oath?”
He falters, sitting back down with his hand on his face, in obvious pain. Mikasa fusses over him, and then you hear the familiar click of a gun. “There’s more than one way to get at the truth,” Levi mutters, “Granted, I may not be in top form at the moment, but it doesn’t take much strength to squeeze a trigger. That said, I’m genuinely hoping I won’t have to blow a hole in you to settle this. How about you?”
Your eyes flit down. In Levi’s hands, concealed by his black suit, is a flare gun. If the situation wasn’t so dire, you’d smile. Yeah, he’ll do a whole lot of damage with that. It does make you wonder, though. You know he’s killed people, but as far as you’re aware of, he hasn’t done that since he joined the Scouts. Though it’s not hard for you to imagine him as a killer, you surmise that he was quite a different person back then. Someone who wouldn’t have put up with your bullshit as lightly as he did. Well, if 4 AM drills and sparring sessions that ended with your uniform covered in dirt and mud counted as light.
“Oi.” Levi’s elbow nudges yours. “Your hair.”
Concerned, you reach up to touch it, before realizing what he’s talking about. “Oh, I lost my tie during the fight. Didn’t have time to find another one before we left.” It’s a hassle fighting without your hair tied up, you know from all the times it’s come loose on missions. Sometimes, you’d keep spares in your satchel.
Levi reaches inside his suit. From a pocket, he pulls out a tie, flicking his thumb to throw it to you.
As you catch it, you feel Mikasa’s eyes on you, but you try not to call more attention to the gesture than needed.
However, you do get the several meanings behind it.
You’d never been aware that he carried spare hair ties for you, aside from the few times during expeditions you specifically asked him to. When it became a regular habit, you don’t know. So it’s sweet, in a sense, that he’s come to anticipate such a minor need of yours. If several years in the military had left you an optimist, you’d even consider it romantic. But since the beginning, in fact, dating back to your very first encounter with him, Levi had insisted that you tie your hair up. You’d started doing it then to get in his good graces, so he’d agree to train you. And over time, it just became natural. You’d even grown to prefer it that way.
Levi, though? Levi had made it quite obvious that he didn’t prefer it that way. Levi, who always made a point to undo your bun and run his fingers through your loose hair, despite him being the one who pushed you to start wearing it like that. Levi, who’d given you several bruises and cuts with his rigorous training sessions, but who kissed the cuts on your hands with a look of deep guilt, like he himself had carved them there. Levi, who’d told you he’d wipe your smile from your face but then later said he wanted to bring it back. Always contradicting himself. The separation of being Captain Levi and being your captain, a distinction that neither he nor you could ever quite figure out.
Him giving you the hair tie is a gesture that tells you he’s asking you to be professional, strong, tough—a soldier, with her hair tied up. The woman he loves, the one in his arms with her hair down, is not needed, as much as he clearly hates pushing her away.
You reach up and tug your hair into a bun in one fluid motion, and wonder if it’s possible for that woman to die completely, and just how much Levi would miss her if she did.
You’re starting to get sick and tired of revelations.
One, the walls are made up of titan material. Whatever the hell that means. The important thing is that Eren might be able to harden too, and Wall Rose could be saved if he could manage to plug up the hole.
Two, little Krista Lenz who came by your usual workout spot to ask for tips and tricks was far, far more valuable than she let on. How and why, Pastor Nick refused to say, but clearly seeing all the people desperately fleeing their homes did a number on him. Probably the same number seeing Wall Maria falling did on you.
And so the little group Commander Erwin has put together must split up before even going on their first mission. Levi orders Armin to be clever, Mikasa to be strong, and then—
“Don’t screw this up,” he tells Eren coldly, and you frown from the corner you’re standing in.
That’s unnecessarily harsh, and you know you’re not one to talk, when your teammates literally made up a nickname for you based on how emotionless you get outside the walls. And you know Levi had to cut Eren out of his titan because he’d been about to consume the Female Titan. But as far as you can see, Eren hasn’t done anything malicious, and he’s doing pretty well for a literal fifteen year old who hasn’t been given an instruction manual on his newfound powers.
But you keep your mouth shut because…well, because you’re not trying to argue with Captain Levi right now.
He turns to you and you salute, spine straight. “Sir. Shall I accompany Hange Squad?”
Levi and Hange look at each other, exchanging a few silent sentences, until Hange nods and orders Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and the brown-haired girl who entered earlier to follow her out. Similarly, you and Moblit communicate with just a few expressions, and with a simple breath, he nods his head. You’re good. You’re both good. He follows her out and you release an exhale that you didn’t know you’d inhaled.
“You’ll stay with me, for now.” At your questioning glance, he continues, “We still don’t know the situation with the titans. There’s no need to put all the non-invalid soldiers in one location.”
Right. That makes sense. Still, you can’t help the fleeting need to go to Utgard Castle with the rest, just so…
So you can see if Mike Squad is alright.
But of course they are. They’re just as good as you in terms of skill—
And look where the rest of your squad ended up.
No, no, no. Ever since Eren has shown up and turned everything on its heel, you haven’t known what the right balance is between reckless optimism and counterproductive pessimism, but anything aside from total neutrality is distracting. Destructive, even.
Shaking your head, you focus up. “And where will we be heading, sir?”
Before Levi can answer, someone else does.
“Trost.” Commander Erwin steps into the room, looks between the two of you, then settles on Levi. “We should arrive there by daybreak.” His gaze trails down to the captain’s leg, despite the other man’s slight scowl when he notices the motion. “Still fine to keep riding, Levi?”
“Yeah.” Levi’s jaw is set. “Go. We’re right behind you.”
To his credit, you really are. Hardly a minute passes after Erwin leaves before you’re preparing your horses. As you give Horsey an apple from his saddlebag, you note that Levi is already seated and ready to go.
Ever the fighter.
He’s not a perfect soldier. No, he’s far too disgruntled of a person for that. But, and you can’t help the resentment you feel towards the commander, Levi is the perfect weapon. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.
That doesn’t mean he can’t just…break, one day.
You’ve seen the ugly sides. His nightmares, tears, and breakdowns. Sometimes it would be natural, the both of you twisting and turning in your sleep after a particularly gruesome mission, suffering with similar demons. And other times, months after an incident, you’d find Levi’s cheeks stained with tears that you’d dutifully wipe off until they stopped coming.
When he’s already given his very soul to the cause, what more does the commander want from him? His limbs? His life?
“Captain, if we do run into titans…” You wait until the both of you are mounted to ask. “What exactly will you do?”
He’ll fight, you tell yourself, of course he’ll fight. He’s no quitter.
Levi gives you a long, hard look. “I suppose I’ll get eaten.”
And you think you physically feel the ripple of anguish travel through your veins at the very prospect.
“That was a joke,” he quips dryly, tugging the reins, “let’s move out.”
Many people have told you that you have shitty humor, the captain included. But you don’t think any one of your jokes has ever left such a sour taste in someone’s mouth.
Shit, you are not this sensitive. Life is changing all around you, but you refuse to let it turn you into something you’re not.
Even though a creeping voice in the back of your head tells you that you already have.
Fucking Maria, Levi should just leave the humor to you.
By the time the news arrives at Trost, you’re close to chewing off your nails in frustration.
You think it’s the first time you’ve seen Pyxis really look his age. Tired, weary, and very much like he’d enjoy sleeping the day away. “I see,” he says to the panting messengers in front of him, “no breach as far as you can tell, correct?”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“Hm. As I thought.”
The brown-haired girl who you’d seen leave with Hange earlier makes a face and whimpers when the water in her flask runs empty. You give her yours, and she beams appreciatively while the other soldier continues.
“But, sir!” he cries. “A situation has developed. You see, we ran into another group on the way back to Trost. It was the Scout unit led by Section Commander Hange.” Your ears perk, and your nerves stand on edge. Had something happened to Hange’s group? “There were recruits from the 104th Cadet Corp with them, none of whom had equipment! This may sound crazy, sir, but three of them were—”
Oh, no. You didn’t want to hear it.
The tiny headache forming from the lack of sleep and general tenseness of the situation increases tenfold.
Fuck the titans.
Erwin has a hand on Jean’s shoulder, holding him back from being rash. With a sharp tone, he questions, “What happened when their titan forms were revealed?”
You’re ready to panic.
“The Scouts faced them. The Armored Titan, and the Colossal, head on. But by the time our unit arrived on the scene, it was…too late. I’m sorry.”
Everyone falls into a brief silence, but that’s not enough for you. “Too late? Too late for what? Major Hange’s dead?”
“N-no!” he stutters, and both agitation and relief bloom inside your chest. “No, what happened is—”
“What about Mike Squad?”
“I-I’m not sure, sir—”
“Dammit, how many people were killed!?”
Not the drawl that you’re used to hearing your name in such a commanding way from, your head jerks to the side in surprise at the commander, who’s giving you that look he always gives you, like you’re a nuisance he can’t be bothered to deal with.
“Perhaps it’s best if you go sit in the cart and await further instructions.”
To do this in front of a group of soldiers, in front of Pyxis, your old commander. Holy Rose, he should have stayed your commander, because if you’d never left the Garrison, you wouldn’t have to get so involved in this utter bullshit. You wouldn’t be standing here being benched like you were a goddamn cadet and not a fully grown woman with an alarmingly excellent titan kill rate. You wouldn’t be getting humiliated by a man who has always seen you as nothing more than an unreliable burden.
“Is that an order?” It takes every muscle in your body to prevent your teeth from clenching. “Sir?”
He stares at you for a moment, but then, deciding he can’t be bothered, looks back down at the frantic soldier, motioning for him to go on.
“Eren Jaeger was taken. Some people were wounded, and two Scouts were killed.”
That’s not good enough. But it is for Erwin, apparently, because he nods, albeit with a newfound tense expression on his face. Tense doesn’t even begin to describe what you’re feeling right now.
If Eren really was kidnapped, then…then, what did you lose your squad for? What would these new—or old—enemies do with him? And really, how long can you stand here thinking of what-if scenarios while everything goes straight to shit?
Not long, it appears. “All personnel, prepare to ride out!” Erwin booms, brushing past the group that’s gathered around him. Jean moves to talk to the brown-haired girl, who doesn’t seem to have any intentions of giving you your flask back. It’s fine, water seems like a relatively useless need right now.
Just as you’re about to mount your horse, you hear the commander behind you.
“Not you. I want you to stay here.”
For a horrible second, you think he’s talking to you, but when you turn, it’s Levi who’s being told to stay behind, raising an appraising scowl to his commander’s order. “And when things take a turn for the worse out there, who do you expect to take on the Armored and Colossal?”
“Someone who has a functioning leg,” is Erwin’s smarmy response. Levi scoffs, loudly, but you’ve never seen him disobey a direct order from Erwin, and today is no different. Neither man is wrong. Levi can hardly fight when it pains him just to walk, and Erwin knows fully well that even with an injury, Levi still has far more fighting prowess than anyone else in the military.
Except maybe, over the years, you’re not quite the selfish person you used to be, but only because you’ve developed a certain different type of selfishness. A selfishness that calls to you, whispers oh so discreetly.
Humanity may fall, but at least Levi will be safe.
There it is, the bane of your existence.
And so you say nothing, knowing that it could very well mean failure.
“Erwin,” Levi says, now facing your shoulder with his back to Erwin. Jerking his head, he continues, “Take this one with you.”
“Naturally, she’ll ride alongside the rest—”
“No,” he retorts, “take her with you.”
For once, you have no idea what game Levi is playing. Neither does Erwin, it looks like, but he nods curtly either way. “Fall into formation besides me,” he tells you, “make it quick.”
Then he begins to walk away, leaving you to give Levi a confuddled look. “Why did you—”
He seizes your arm, so tightly that it would hurt if your tolerance to pain wasn’t high, and so harshly that someone would think you had been insubordinate.
“Bring him back alive.” He murmurs the command into your ear. “No matter what it takes.”
He lets you go after that, brushing past your shoulder without any other words. And while you didn’t hope for or expect a tearful goodbye or even a wish of good luck, you didn’t think you’d be left with this.
Because even if he didn’t intend it, Levi’s words carry a second meaning, one that you hear loud and clear.
This time, don’t fail.
Hange’s face looks almost natural with burns. You’re almost certain you’ve seen the sight before, but it doesn’t make it any less disturbing. However, it’s extremely relieving to see that the burns don’t stop her from barking out orders, or from using her wonderful brain to locate exactly where Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover might have taken Eren. From beside you, Moblit squeezes your shoulder affectionately, in what you interpret as a returned favor for before.
The time crunch rings, both in your head and on Mikasa’s face. Sundown. You have till sundown.
“Hey.” In your rush, you run up to a boy with a buzzcut, aware that standing outside the wall is not ideal for having a conversation, but you can’t wait, and Moblit and Hange are too busy. Besides, the horses are still being transferred, and your query will only take a second. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. But I was told you were at Utgard Castle with Mike Squad. Springer, right?”
“Uh, yes, Connie Springer, sir!” He salutes. “I mean, ma’am!”
You don’t really have a preference.
“I…” Your breath catches in your throat, dry from how terrified you are to hear his answer. “I don’t see Mike Squad around. Did you—did you separate from them, by any chance?”
Springer’s face turns pale.
A low thud settles in your stomach. “All of them?” you ask quietly, allowing yourself to despair.
“All of them,” he says, clearly regretful, with downcast eyes, “we saw all of them, you know…except Section Commander Mike. He went off on his own, but he never returned.” At the thought of Humanity’s Second Strongest dying all alone, out there somewhere with no one coming to his aid, you could swear the world stops. You were never close to him, but he was so strong, and if he couldn’t make it, then what chance did the rest of you have?
And the others. Gaelger, the only person who could realistically challenge Moblit to a drinking competition. Henning, always a calm presence around the base, excellent at puzzles. And Lynne, so good with kids and the elderly, a natural soldier because of the goodness in her heart.
Nanaba, your favorite sparring partner.
“They fought till the end,” Springer mumbles, “they protected us.”
“That was their job,” you respond dully, “I’m glad. Glad they dedicated their hearts.”
Only for Eren to get captured and for everything to go straight to hell anyways.
You exhale shakily. Another elite squad, plucked off like nothing, for no reason. Your response to Connie is what you’re supposed to say, what the commander would say. What you want to say is that at the end, you wish they had strayed. You wish they had prioritized their own lives.
And speaking of the commander…
“Sir.” You meet him at the bottom of the wall, gingerly landing on the grass. You’re not sure how to put it, but he’s never been delicate with you, so you see no reason why you should spare him either. “Aside from Thomas, Mike Squad has been wiped out.”
Not a single flinch, or change in his carefully crafted expression. “Yes, I heard. Anything else?”
Section Commander Mike was your friend. Don’t you want to cry for him?
“I assume you were informed of this Beast Titan?”
“Yes. That’s not our primary goal right now, however. If we don’t recover Eren, then another titan shifter will be the least of our problems.”
Are you like me? Incapable of mourning, too focused on just doing the task in front of us?
Perhaps you don’t want to be similar to a man so many people consider a monster. Not much further from a titan himself—rather, their number one meal supplier.
Could you have made the call to send them all to their deaths? No, would you? If you get annoyed by anyone else questioning your capabilities instead of your willingness, it should apply to yourself as well.
You don’t know. You don’t really know anything anymore.
It feels wrong to be riding outside Wall Rose, without Petra and Eld on either side of you, without Levi in front. Not just the spirit of it, but physically. Your head keeps jerking to your right involuntarily, then angrily refocusing forward when you don’t see the sight you’re accustomed to.
Your heart goes thump, thump, thump.
The only comfort you have is that if you crane your neck just slightly, you can see Ricky behind you on the far left, and he dutifully raises a hand in acknowledgement every time he notices you looking. A gesture that you return in kind, knowing that being able to see each other during missions is a rare luxury. With so many soldiers from the Garrison and Military Police coming along, there wasn’t any time to explain the long distance formation to them. It’s risky, but efficient.
The Scouts on the outliers still spread out a bit to send smoke signals back to command. You notice Commander Erwin never gives the order out for anyone else to shoot a green flare, always choosing to do it himself. His usually pristine blonde hair now has some wisps decorating his forehead, but other than that, he’s solemn, serious, and it’s hard to hate him for essentially killing people when he always leads the charge himself.
It’s hard, but you can still manage it. Fuck him.
Especially because even as red flares fill the sky, he never strays too far from the path, no matter what it costs. And no hesitation. No crack. Nothing, absolutely nothing—
“What the hell!?”
Gaping, everyone looks up, where red flares have started to fill the sky. Not from a single direction, but from everywhere.
“Commander Erwin!” one of his men cry. “We’re surrounded!”
“There is a way around. Should we head towards it?”
It’s a pointless question. The forest is close, Eren is just out of reach. Erwin would never let that kind of chance pass away, regardless of how many lives he damned in the process. “Soldiers!” he yells out. “Prepare to fight!”
Good thing you’ve been preparing all day. Finally, that tension, that anger, that overwhelming need to do something, is given an outlet. Leaning forward until you’re almost flat, you push your horse further, following the commander straight into the fray.
Titans, all waiting in front of you, make a gleeful charge.
Cries of war behind you.
A flash of lightning bursts through the air in the middle of the forest, halting both titans and humans as everyone is momentarily distracted by the sight and sound.
Amidst the gasps, Armin’s voice rings out clearly. “I think someone’s transforming into a titan!”
The odds of it being someone on your side is 50/50, and you really don’t like those odds.
“Soldiers, disperse!” the commander booms. “The enemy has assumed titan form! Find Eren and get him out of there! Battle is not our objective! Locate, recover, and retreat!”
Several cables shoot into the sky, and the itch for a fight makes you slip your fingers into the holster, gliding over the lever and ready to fire.
Erwin looks back. “We forge ahead this way! Do not engage ODM gear unless you need to!”
The two men behind him echo, “Yes, sir!”
There’s no reason not to!
But before you can protest, he fires off another green smoke signal, not to redirect the group, but to catch the attention of the titans. You don’t understand, is he using himself as bait?
Your horse squeals as one of the titans dives on its stomach, barely missing you with its mouth. On instinct, you swing your arm behind you, gasping, release the blade, and send it flying straight towards the titan’s eye, which it heads dead on, forcing the creature to abandon its prey so that it can regenerate.
“Commander!” Your shriek is breathless. “What are you doing?”
Of course, he doesn’t see fit to respond. Not to you. Because you’re his soldier. Because you’re a Scout. Because you’re supposed to dedicate your heart.
Except he’s wrong. You’re not dedicated to his stupid fucking cause, you couldn’t care less about discovering the world or eliminating all the titans or achieving freedom. You don’t follow Erwin, you don’t follow the Scouts, you follow Levi. Because you admire him, because you love him.
And you’re not going to die because Erwin commanded it.
Levi told you—ordered you—to keep Erwin alive, no matter what. His not being here cannot diminish the weight his words carry for you. And they won’t. They won’t, they won’t, they won’t!
Hundreds of people must be screaming. They’re screaming because most of them are dying. But out of all of it, the fear and blood and catastrophe, you somehow make out Ricky’s voice exceptionally clearly.
Your head turns, and your eyes widen.
Tears gush from her eyes. Her cheeks are bright red, and as the sword she was holding collapses to the ground she clasps her hands together in what looks like a prayer, but really, she’s just holding her hands to her heart.
“I love you!” she screams, voice tearing from deep within her. “I love y—”
That’s the last thing she says before she’s eaten.
And the subject of her confession, Ricky Belle, screams equally as loud.
Ricky’s lost her. He’s crying, running head on to get his revenge.
You have to help him. If he fights like this, he won’t make it. You have to go after him.
“Bring him back alive.”
No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to choose.
Protecting one person was protecting the next. So how is it possible that you have to choose now to either help your best friend, who just lost his girlfriend, or to keep following the commander, the very reason for her untimely death?
And all because of Levi’s orders? Do they outweigh the life of your best friend?
You realize they do.
You can’t even shut your eyes to hide the terror that envelopes you. Fear of the titans. Fear of yourself.
Unsure which is greater, all you can do is stare straight ahead as you leave Ricky behind.
There’s another flash of lightning. For the first time in your life, you gaze upon the Armored Titan, leaving the forest with Eren in tow.
“Right!” Erwin bellows, raising his sword. “Let the titans chase you! All squads, follow my lead!”
With a repulsive crack of your heart, you register that he hadn’t even noticed Lily’s death. Because of course he didn’t.
“Erwin!” someone roars. “You conniving bastard!”
Amidst the dust and wind beating at your face, you face the fact that you just left your Ricky to die.
You’ve set yourself on this path, to make sure that Erwin comes back alive.
Death erupts around you, cruel and twisted and terrible, as everyone begins to engage. Erwin shouts orders left and right, and it’s only your instincts and your horse that manage to keep you alive as he fires another flare, directing the attention of the titans exactly where he wants them.
“You’re insane,” you wail under your breath. He doesn’t even hear you. “You’re off your fucking rocker.”
If you were as brave as you used to be, and not so focused on the horrible happenings enveloping the plain, you’d say it louder.
It only takes a few terrifying minutes for the next order to come down. “Squadrons, break! Make the titans scatter!”
Oh, fuck. You actually scream this time, barely ducking out of the way from giant flailing hands, gripping onto the reins of your horse with one hand as you begin to slash wildly with the other. It doesn’t make more than a few cuts, but it prevents you from getting cut as you stay right on Erwin’s trail.
The world, usually green and blue and everything in between, is a disgusting shade of orange uniforms spattered with red.
Jean is who you catch sight of first as Erwin abruptly slows for a second. The new Scout looks queasy as he stares upon the titans descending on the Armored. Voice trembling, he asks, “Is this hell?”
“Not yet. But it will be,” the commander promises, riding forward. You gasp sharply, only inches behind him. “All soldiers, charge! We’ve come to the moment of truth! Mankind’s fate is decided now! There is no future in which we reclaim these lands without Eren, and there never will be! Go! Recover Eren from the Armored Titan and retreat!”
Well. You’d always known it was going to end like this.
“Your heart and soul to the cause!”
For a beat, you feel nothing. There is absolutely nothing left in you to give to Erwin’s cause.
Then, as you ride, you spot something.
Or more accurately, someone.
Banana-colored hair. Flying up through the sky and advancing straight forward.
The feeling rushes back to you all at once. Erwin cries, “Advance!” but instead of being focused on him or on Eren, it takes everything in you to not let the lump in your throat overwhelm you right then and there. Ricky’s alive. You didn’t abandon him to die, he made it.
So relieved are you that you forget your mission.
It happens all at once. In the blink of an eye. You almost miss it.
Until you hear the ground-shattering screech.
In what is possibly your darkest moment, you think this could be amusing. That’s the arm he salutes with.
It’s barely registered in your mind before you hear Erwin scream, “I said advance, goddammit! Eren’s right in front of you! Do not falter!”
And well, you don’t really know if he seriously expects you to obey that order.
“No matter what it takes.”
You’re flying off your horse, with your old instructor’s instructions from the first day of ODM training ringing in your ear. Never. Ever. Fly Backwards.
Distributing your weight, you flip back, one sword gripped tightly in both hands. With a crunch, it digs into the titan’s flailing arm, slowing your descent. If you were Levi, you could roll around the arm and slice it clean off, but since you’re not, you use the sword lodged into the titan’s arm to propel yourself up towards its shoulder.
If you can grab any part of its skin, you’ll have the chance to take out another sword. If you can just—get—high enough—
The benefit of having grabbed the commander by its mouth is that the titan has both its hands free.
The other one comes swooshing down to grab you, and you—perhaps stupidly—let it, latching onto a finger and taking a blade out without the holster to stab into its palm.
As you drop, your fingers dig into the blade, drawing blood. Without even looking at them, you shoot your wires as high as you can, and suddenly you’re running up the titan’s stomach—
Without anything to keep it from carving into your hand, you slice the titan’s neck, and the air splatters with both of your blood. Right as it starts to topple, Commander Erwin severs his own arm and free falls towards the ground.
Sliding around the dropping titan’s neck, you grab onto him, before landing in a rough but otherwise safe landing.
Erwin’s torso is stained with your blood. And his arm is stained with his own.
There’s so much of it, you note as you bite down the familiar nausea.
“We need to get you out of—”
“What were you thinking!?” he roars, cutting you off. “Your orders were to retrieve Eren! Between two people, you save the one who’s irreplaceable!”
Not the thank you that you with your bloody palms think you deserve.
“I don’t care what Captain Levi told you.” His eyes are wild in a way that you’ve never seen. “Right now, your orders come from me.” And before you can even comprehend that he somehow knew about Levi’s orders, he’s pointing his good hand towards the hoard of titans swarming the Armored. “Get me there. Immediately.”
Go fuck yourself, is on the tip of your tongue. Instead you raise your fingers to your mouth and whistle, hauling Erwin onto your horse behind you and heading into the fray.
It all passes in a flash. People dying, titans dying, it’s all hazy against the red blurring your vision. Like the opposite of an out of body experience, you only feel the physical, the way your body jolts with each step forward, how the blood warms your hands, Commander Erwin holding tight onto you with one arm. That pressure leaving when he, without any indication, shoots up to slice right through the straps holding Eren hostage against someone.
If this man doesn’t stop falling, you’re going to have a very serious talk with whoever raised him.
“All soldiers, retreat!”
You’re not even going to bother to believe that you can make it out that easy. And sure enough, the large body that the Armored Titan throws your way proves you absolutely right.
Both you and Erwin are blasted off from the impact. You think you hear something crack and hope it’s not your own bones.
“Shit,” you hiss, struggling to stand. You have to escort Erwin out. Now.
“Commander!” someone else cries. Erwin says something, but there’s a ringing in your ear that drowns it out.
As you sit up, you take notice of a few things.
One, no one nearby is going to come to your aid.
Two, titans are now closing in.
“Dammit, Levi,” you mutter under your breath, “you asshole.”
“(L/N)!” The commander is gripping his ripped sleeve in obvious concealed agony. “Find Eren and get out of here!”
“I have to—”
Out of nowhere, he grabs the front of your collar. “What you have to do is listen!”
In that moment, he sounds so much like your mother that the anger that has been building for years finally erupts.
“Shut up,” you let out with gritted teeth, seizing his arm and yanking it off. “I don’t care about what you think I have to do. I was told to bring you back alive, so I do not care who lives and who dies, I am going to make sure you get back to base, and I don’t care what you have to say about that, so for once in your life, shut up!”
And then you look up at the titans with your last set of blades and get ready.
You don’t care what he says. You don’t care about how your body aches. You don’t care that somewhere deep within you, a girl is shrieking that you’re going to die. She’s pleading with you that no one, not even Levi, is worth your life.
Just like with the commander, you tell her to shut up.
Time to go out in a blaze of glory.
A tremor starts—it begins at your feet, but jolts through you like an electric shock. Everyone in your line of vision looks like they’re experiencing something similar, and strangely enough, so do the titans. Not even sparing you a glance, they begin to turn and rush towards the same place.
Not towards a person, but towards another titan.
Honestly, you don’t have the energy to question it.
Thankfully, Horsey is unarmed. “Good boy,” you whisper shakily, pulling the commander on once more. “Let’s go.”
On the way back, you see Ricky, still alive. You see Eren, up and kicking. You’re not sure if you retain the right to feel relieved, but that doesn’t stop the feeling either way.
Titans are humans.
Hange gives this disturbing discovery as you all stand in Commander Erwin’s room, next to Connie Springer, who looks more horrified than all of you combined. After hearing his story, you can’t even imagine how you’d compose yourself if you were in his shoes.
Hange assures everyone she’ll escort Connie out. Pyxis heads out next, giving you a nod and a pat on the shoulder from where you’re standing by the wall. Finally, Levi stands, and you prepare to follow him out until Erwin speaks up.
“Lieutenant. Stay for a few minutes, please. I’d like to talk.”
Levi’s brows raise, and if you weren’t so baffled you’d smirk. This is the first and only time Erwin has ever: one, not kicked you out of a meeting, and two, asked for a private word afterwards.
“Right. I’ll wait outside,” Levi murmurs to you lowly. You nod, curt, as he shuts the door behind him.
After he leaves, you face the large bed with a salute. The entire ride back to base, he’d said nothing directly to you, although you’d imagine that once the adrenaline wore off, the pain finally set in, not that he displayed any. All the soldiers that had rushed him once you were over the wall were far more concerned about his state than he was. He’d asked for Hange, but she too had been placed under the care of medics to treat her burns.
Still, even afterwards, when he had plenty of time to reprimand you in front of both Levi and Pyxis, the commander said nothing. Maybe the revelations and plans were at the front of his mind, but could you telling the leader of the Survey Corp to shut up really just go unpunished?
Well, if that had been the case, you wouldn’t be standing here. This might be the moment you’re finally kicked out of the military; you have been testing the waters for years.
Erwin breaks the silence. “Thank you.”
You don’t let yourself get hopeful. But?
“But you should have saved Eren,” he concedes. “I understand Levi gave you a certain task, however, outside the walls, you listen to your direct superior.”
Maybe it’s not even worth pretending that you’re taking his words to heart. There’s no way he believes the insincere nod you give him. He must know that if you had to repeat the day over, you’d make the same decision. “How did you know about that, sir, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I know Levi,” he responds cryptically, and at your dubious look he reveals, “And he wasn’t that quiet.”
You’d thought Levi had been pretty quiet. “You were eavesdropping.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“It is if people have secrets.”
“And you do, don’t you, Lieutenant?”
Dammit, you knew he knew. “I have no idea what you mean, sir.”
His gaze passes over you. “For the longest time, (F/N)—” For some reason, the use of your first name makes you stand up straighter. “I couldn’t figure you out. But I think I have, now. Or I did, on the battlefield.”
Now why in the world would he be paying attention to you when there were so many lovely titans to focus on instead? You don’t care for theatrics, when they’re not your own at least. “I’ve told you before that there’s nothing to figure out that you don’t already know, sir. Fickle heart, right?”
You don’t mean for the last part to slip out. It’s bitter, the one thing you’ve always remembered he said about you. The one thing you’ve always remembered whenever you’re either saving someone or killing a titan, pushing his cause forward.
He leans forward. “That’s one thing I can apologize for.”
Your tongue clicks. “What were the other candidates?”
“The 57th expedition, for one. Do not think I took that loss lightly.” He sighs. “They were remarkable soldiers.”
No, they were so much more than that.
“Or maybe for leading you into a situation where you had to make a decision between staying with me or helping your friend.”
This makes you stop. He’d seen you abandon Ricky? Someone had been a witness to what could easily be one of the worst things you’ve ever done?
“Or…” And at this he looks you straight in the eye. “Maybe you’d like me to apologize for Stephen Hansen.”
Your veins turn to ice.
He knows his name?
There’s no way.
“You expect me to believe you remember him? That you didn’t just find an old file so that you could bring him up?”
“Maybe you’ll be surprised to learn, but I didn’t derive any pleasure from seeing him eaten.” Erwin doesn’t remove his hard gaze. “I didn’t know that stopping in that city would lead to his death.”
“But it did.” After holding it in for so long, you finally accuse him. “It did, and you never took responsibility.” Really, you’re not sure what taking responsibility looks like in this kind of situation, but you have to level some kind of crime at him, otherwise you’ll be just like him, pointlessly blaming the titans. “You can’t possibly remember every single person who’s died for you.”
He doesn’t disagree. “I don’t. But I do remember him. Does that convince you that I’m telling the truth? It doesn’t matter. Whether or not you believe me is irrelevant. The point is, if I start apologizing for every death I’ve caused, I’ll sit here forever, and even if you believe that’s fair punishment, the hard reality of our situation is that there’s no time to sit and apologize, not if we want to move forward.”
“Oh, right. The mantra that you both live by.” The mantra you could never live by. It makes you smile tightly. “No regrets. It must be a real easy way to deal with all the guilt, right?”
“Do you think so? Tell me, in all the nights you’ve spent with him, how many nightmares has he had?”
It truly does offend you that he thinks you’re this stupid, but you simply stress your point, more strained this time, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”
“You don’t,” he repeats.
“I don’t need your confirmation, you do understand that, correct?”
Yes, you do understand that. It’s more of a petty thing at this point.
“Alright. Let’s say I do apologize for Stephen Hansen. For Petra Ral, for Oluo Bozado, for Eld Jinn, and for Gunther Schultz. I can go on. But none of them are who I’d like to discuss with you.”
Oh, so there is a point to this.
“I’d like to discuss Captain Levi.”
That is probably the most jarring thing he’s said in the last few minutes. There is no way that the purpose of this visit can actually be to grill you on a relationship that he has no evidence to prove. “I don’t know how many times I have to say—”
“You obeyed his orders out there. Not mine.”
“Yes, sir.” Perhaps Yes, Commander No-Shit might be more appropriate.
“You care for him.”
“He is my superior,” you answer carefully.
“What would you be willing to do for him?”
You blink. “Excuse me?”
“I do realize that his orders take priority over mine. However, I have a certain set of orders that I’d like you to follow, and I think you’ll do it without too much persuasion on my part.”
There’s no response to this, not until you hear what exactly the orders are, so you just wait for him to continue.
“I’d like you to put that loyalty to good use. Protect him the way you protected me out there.”
Ironically, this is the first thing in days that has made you laugh. It’s a full blown one too, if a bit sarcastic. The familiar feeling of lightness in your stomach, one you’ve missed sorely, returns with force.
“Commander,” you inform him with a bright grin, “With years of experience, I can safely tell you that Captain Levi doesn’t need anyone protecting him. I could train for a lifetime and his skills would still surpass mine. I’ve never seen a single titan that he couldn’t kill.”
“Titans, yes.” Raising his arm, the commander points his hand at the window, middle and index finger extended. “But even Levi can’t do anything to stop a speeding bullet if he can’t see it coming.”
The smile vanishes from your face.
“What will you do then?” he asks. “What will you do when there is a bullet headed towards him, and no amount of skill will stop it?”
There’s only one correct answer. It settles in, a newfound, heavy weight on your chest.
You step between Erwin's hand and the window, blocking him from the sunlight, and meeting his eyes with all your conviction.
If all he needs is a body, then, for Levi, you’ll gladly step in.
“Right.” Erwin looks grim, but satisfied. “I’m sorry to put you in this position.”
Somehow, you don’t think he really is sorry, but what’s more is you don’t want him to be. He’s right, he has so much to apologize for that it would be ridiculous to actually demand it, but this does not fall into the list. All for one reason.
He raises one of those large brows. “For?”
“I understand you now too.” You give him the first heartfelt salute that you’ve ever afforded him. “Thank you for not letting Levi go with the rest of us. Thank you for caring about him.”
Nodding shortly, he says, “Likewise.”
So the two of you are similar to each other, after all. Not just because you’re monsters, but because you’re actually not as monstrous as either of you would like to believe.
Levi doesn’t ask what you and the commander discussed. You think it’s because he really doesn’t want to know. Smart.
He leads you to his office, face twisting in slight pain every few seconds whenever he puts too much weight on his leg.
“Captain.” Once the door is closed, you reach out for him. “Sir, please sit.”
Before you can make contact, he beats you to it, nudging you back until you’re seated against his desk. Ignoring your bafflement, he takes your hands and begins to unwrap the bandages, reaching to pull out a clean one from his drawer.
Throughout it all, he’s silent, and so are you. You watch him as he gives you his entire attention, carefully cleaning your cuts before starting to apply the new bandages. It hits you, the thought—you don’t deserve this—but you don’t say it, wanting to feel his touch for as long as you can. Because now you know time is even more limited than you thought.
“Will you not even look at me?” you ask quietly when he’s done.
Without obliging you, he answers, “We haven’t spoken since you came back. I assumed you didn’t want to.”
“Of course I do. I always want to talk to you. I just thought…”
Levi intertwines his fingers with you, then looks up from your hands, finally giving you a much needed dose of gray.
“I just thought you didn’t want to.”
He shakes his head slowly. “Why wouldn’t I?”
You bite your lip. “You—you said to bring Commander Erwin back alive. No matter what. And I brought him back with one arm. I mean, he’s not dead, but…but I didn’t exactly…I failed,” you spill, swallowing. “Again.”
“Dumbass,” Levi snarks, “bringing him back alive implies I need you back alive too.”
“No.” Tucking a finger under your chin, he continues. “Get the thought out of your head that I blame you for what happened to the squad. It’s as much my fault as it is yours.”
“You put me in charge.”
“I put myself in charge of Isabel and Farlan too.” His eyes flash. “They died under my care.”
“Why?” Levi’s grip on your hand tightens. It hurts, but you don’t want it to stop. “Because you’re allowed to blame yourself and I’m not?”
“No, because I let you down! I can’t trust myself not to do it again!”
“When did you become just my soldier and nothing else, huh?”
You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Although you think the answer is some time around when Gunther’s head was sliced off.
“(F/N), answer me.”
Levi groans, frustrated, then tilts your head up.
“If I was just your captain, then you wouldn’t let me do this,” he breathes, leaning in close.
You turn your head.
Well, this feels nostalgic in all the wrong ways. Levi’s lips still on your cheek, not moving, but you see the realization settle in on his face.
Rejecting a kiss from him could be the cruelest thing you’ve ever done to both him and yourself. You hate it. But it’s your message to him, the message that, at least for now, he can’t have both.
And this one, as much as it hurts you because you love him more than you’ve loved anything or anyone else, is the right choice.
Sliding off the desk, you accept it and decide not to have regrets.
“I’ll meet you at the safehouse once you’re finished here, sir.” You salute. “I assume Major Hange has already begun to lead Springer there.”
Levi knows, and you know, that there is now a wall between you two. The lines between superior and lover are not as blurred anymore. If it hurts him—you know it hurts him—he doesn’t say anything, but accepts your decision, which, you realize with anger, makes you love him all the more.
“When you arrive, do a parameter check and make sure the area is secure,” he orders you motionlessly.
Then you turn and head out the door to join up with the rest of your new squad.
Council of Anime Men I Love
Hello, embark with me on a journey of gathering my favorite Anime men into a group and making headcannons of them.
Today's head cannon is: How they respond to running into your ex.
On my list of men we have: Kakashi Hatake, Yami Sukihero, Levi Ackerman, and Satoru Gojo x black reader (Can be read by all)
CW: Allusions to sex, suggestive sexual content along with suggested violence. Kinda fluffy, kinda angsty.
1. Kakashi Hatake:
Kakashi wouldn't care. He'd be the type to brush your ex off. In fact, you'd have to beg him to interfere.
"Y/n!" Your ex shouted when he saw you.
You cringed and turned around from the product you were looking at. Kakashi looked up from his make out paradise book to see the man approaching you. He'd let you handle It for now. The guy was obviously no threat and Kakashi had no reason to suspect anything from you.
"Oh hey Ayato!" You faked a smile.
"Ayato, this is my boyfriend, Kakashi, Kakashi, this is Ayato, my ex-boyfriend." You took kakashi's arm, hoping he'd get the hint.
"Hey." He threw up a peace sign.
"Ope well, look at the time, we've got to get going we have a busy day." You tried to walked away.
"Aww are you sure? I'd love to catch up with you."
You shook your head. "I don't think we can stay, right Kashi?"
Kakashi look at you and then to Ayato. A devious smirk ghosted his covered lips. "We can go out for coffee, I'd love to hear about Y/n more."
You gave him a death glare. One that let him know he was in for it later that night. He'd just calm you down later.
2. Yami Sukehiro:
Yami would be the complete opposite of Kakashi. He's in your conversation before you can even think. You have to beg him to stop interfering.
You didn't think the conversation would be this long. You knew Yami was in the bathroom and he would be a minute, but you thought you'd be done with the conversation by now. You didn't know your ex was going to ask you everything about life.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing talking to my woman?" Yami stands behind you. He's got a cigarette between his lips. His huge gruff stature drew your ex's attention.
Your ex backed away given that he was significantly smaller. You closed your eyes in defeat.
"Who's this clown giving you heart eyes?"
You forced a smile and turned to him. "Yami, this is just an old friend of mine." You said sharply. "Be nice."
You could feel his mana radiating from him, trying to assume dominance over a man he knew nothing about. "I suggest you stop making eyes at my woman and continue shopping."
"Yami-" You started.
"Alright man, I was just talking to her, she can't have friends?" Your ex finally found his balls and stood up to Yami.
You gave him a sympathetic smile before whispering, "run"
3. Levi Ackerman:
Levi doesn't interfere with your reunion with your ex, but he also doesn't let it go like Kakashi. He's more of a subtle type of guy, but very possessive.
Your ex came up to you while you and Levi were on a small lunch date at this local tea shop. Levi was drinking his tea and talking about his grievances with the young scouts when your ex came up to you.
"Y/n! Hi! didn't think I'd see you here, you weren't ever a big fan of tea."
You gave him a fake smile. "I wasn't a big fan of certain teas, yes."
Your ex barely paid mind to the man sitting beside you. Levi's eyes were cold and his glare could kill the man with how sharp it was. "Perhaps she didn't like your tea." Levi mumbled.
You grabbed Levi's hand that wasn't holding his teacup.
Your ex finally looked at Levi. "Is this your friend?" Obviously he was more than that, but your poor idiot ex couldn't get the hint.
"Boyfriend." Levi corrected.
"Oh boyfriend, well it's nice to meet you, and good to see you again Y/n!"
"It was a displeasure to meet you." Levi stood up. "But I'm glad you messed up." He draped his jacket over your arms as he gestured for you to stand with him. "Now she's mine."
4. Satoru Gojo:
This man is a man-baby about it. He's the most insecure of them all. You have to reassure him that you will never leave.
"Satoru please take your blindfold off!" You huffed. "It's not like I flirted with them!"
You were perched on Gojo's lap while his back was against the bed's headboard. He was pouty with his arms crossed. He usually never wore his blindfold around you, but after the mall trip you just had, he'd had it on ever since.
You were at the mall doing some shopping when you ran across not one, not two, but three of your exes. Only two of them spoke since you cut off all contact with one of them. However, Gojo wasn't a fan of how you smiled at them and laughed at their trash jokes.
"I was being friendly 'toru. I'd never leave you for trash like them. They all broke my heart, but you- you have it." You grabbed his hand and pressed it to your lips.
"You promise you don't still have feelings for them?"
"Pinky! Besides none of them could fuck me like you do." You whispered.
Satoru slid his blindfold up. "Damn right!" He flipped you over on your back.
Please do not copy any of my works without permission
Hello! could you possibly do Levi with a s/o who knows how to play the violin really good and she has not told anyone, but then one day he finds her playing Experience By Ludovico tysm!!
Awwwwww, anon, I used to be a piano performer and I know a few violin basics too! I'm writing this while listening to this man's amazing music, it's just 👌👌😩
Also, im so sorry this took so long, anon😞
Genre: fluff, no warnings
Pairing: Levi x violinist!Reader
You had kept it a secret for many reasons. First of, audiences made you panic. You never performed in front of anybody. It's not that you couldn't take judgment. There was a time that you could, but a performance went bad and you swore to never do that again. It had almost made you hate that one thing that you loved the most - violin.
You had been playing ever since you were little. You adored it. You always got so lost in it. But maybe giving Levi a second key to your home was a bad idea. At first, you hadn't answered the door to him knocking. You simply hadn't heard him, but he was getting worried.
You never told him you could play. But he heard it the second he stepped in using his spare key. He followed the sound upstairs to your room. Your door was half-open but he could still see you inside, holding the chestnut brown violin, swinging the bow in perfect, smooth motions that accompanied the music.
And you played it so good. The sound was so beautiful. He didn't know you could play. You two had been dating close to a year and yous still hadn't told him somehow. But you were so beautiful, he almost felt like he was falling for you all over again.
Only when you finished the song and turned to place the violin back in its case, did you realise he was there. You let out a yelp of surprise that startled you both.
"Levi! H- How long have you been... standing there?" You stuttered ridiculously. He couldn't have watched this, could he? "I- I- I'm sorry, I play terribly, please forget you saw this-"
"Oi, what the fuck did you just say?" He cut you and he approached you. "Terribly?" Levi frowned. "My ears may be fucked up, but it didn't sound terrible, brat. Not even close,"
Your cheeks were a cherry red and you looked up at him hesitantly. "Y- You mean that?"
"Tsk, of course, y/n," Levi cupped your cheek. "Why didn't you tell me you could play like that?"
You chewed on your lip. "Well... it's a long story,"
"I have all night,"
You smiled at him and fell in his arms. Your sweet man was always so understanding. You buried your face in his neck and you sighed blissfully.
"I love you," You whispered softly in his neck and a small smile spread on his lips as he buried his face in your hair.
"I love you too, y/n,"
Boy do I know about fucking up a performance AHAHAHAH *cries in failure* LEMME KNOW IF Y'ALL LIKED IT!
— Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirschtein, Reiner Braun, Levi Ackerman x f!reader
cw. big dicks, creampie, deepthroating, cum eating, pet names, praise, mating press, squirting | m.list
∴ BIG. LONG. THICK. FAT DICK. Probably one of those cocks you can see the outline of when he pushes it in — Eren's cock is one of those cocks you have to be properly prepared for to take it. Pink tip that tends to dark red as it begins to drool pre cum — veiny shaft, fat and heavy balls. 10/10 he teases cause he's aware he's big and never misses a chance to tease you, "my pretty girl is struggling to take me, im gonna make it fit, baby"
His arms hold your thighs up as he pushes his fat cock inside your tight pussy, your back resting against the cold tiles of the shower as Eren grunts in your ear, "fuck, huh baby, you like that, don't you?"
His cock hammers your tender spot hard and his balls slam lasciviously against your ass, "It's to-too much" you sob under his thrusts and you can feel how his girth twitches inside your hole as you cling to his long hair.
Your pussy grips its length so well that Eren can't suppress his moans, "fuck, you're gonna make me cum" he coos grabbing one of your hard nipples between his teeth as the hot water keeps running over your sweaty bodies, he angles himself so well that his crotch rubs against your hard nub making you spasm.
Your folds flutter around him messily as he continues to thrust deeply into your dripping pussy, "yes, so close" he babbles when your eyes roll and your walls tighten, your stomach clenches before you gush over his throbbing cock.
"Shit, that's it, what a good girl" Eren hums holding you between his hard body and the wall, his throbbing cock continuing to fuck your abused hole as you tremble in his arms.
∴ his cock is LONG, fills you so well — you drool as soon as his tip presses on the bottom, and his cock is not all the way in — Pinkish tip and not very veiny. Heavy and sensitive balls, he could cum just watching you take one in your mouth and adore it. 8/10 is always tidy and his seed tastes good, not sorry for this
Your eyes roll at the lewd sound of your pussy being fucked good, his moans escape lightly from his puffy lips hidden on your throat, "baby, uh you're so good" he stutters rubbing the head of his long shaft on your sweet spot.
Your fingers are wrapped in his blonde hair as Armin works his hips against yours in a slow rhythm, his balls slamming into your ass gently, "I'm gonna cum" you meow, your cunt continues to stretch under his thrusts before he lifts off of you.
"Please come for me" he hums rocking his hips back and forth, his pretty long cock throbs as he disappears inside your tender cunt and reappears with a white ring all around it, his thumb rubs circles on your hard wet nub triggering your orgasm.
∴ Jean has a long and pretty dick. The longest and prettiest of them all, thick enough, in proportion let's say — not very veiny with a nice thick pink head when fully hard. His balls are heavy against your tongue when he makes you lick them and pre cum starts to slide down his shaft. 10/10 loves to have you choke on his pretty cock.
His heavy balls slam on your chin as he holds your head still and rams his hips against your face.
"Oh you are fuckin good" Jean growls low throwing his head back as he hits the back of your throat tearing a gag.
Your eyes fill with tears and your jaw starts to ache, "is my cock too big for you baby?" he asks amused tearing you away from his thick shaft, drool keeps your tongue attached to the tip of his cock as you chase back the tears and start pumping him with both hands.
Jean smirks as you greedily suck the tip and work the shaft with your hand, "you're eager for my cock uhu baby you drive me crazy" he admits watching as you try to swallow his cock deeper.
Drool drips on his pretty balls as you bob your head back and forth, your moans buzz in his ears and his hips lift towards your face.
His thick cock throbs on your tongue before his load starts to fill your mouth, "fuck baby, take it all," he gasps pushing into your mouth, "let me cum in your cute throat."
∴ THICK. VERY THICK. Reiner's cock is bigger than long, heavy and veiny — a large vein runs through his shaft and throbs when he cum. The tip is dark pink and tends a little to the right, — balls so full and heavy that every time he cums your belly swells, and it comes gushing out of your slit. 9/10 one of those that won't make you walk the next day and loves the idea of breeding you.
"T-too big" you sob as you try to slide onto his shaft, your nails scratching his shoulders and digging into his biceps as he holds you still in his lap.
Reiner smiles placing his lips to yours before pulling you down completely ripping a scream from you, "you've taken it before" he coos grabbing your ass and starting to make you jump on him, "take it all" he says sinking deeper again.
You whimper savoring the way his fat cock spreads your tight cunt, your eyes roll back as you feel him hit your sweet spot, "you always take me so good, my good girl" he hums in your ear.
Your pussy clenches so tightly around him when Reiner finds your bud and begins to circle his thumb around it, your hips begin to roll taking his cock deeper and deeper, your swollen, slick walls fluttering around him.
"Reiner ... c-close mh," you stutter, his eyes fixed on your tight little pussy swallowing his thick cock as you keep grinding against him.
"Yes, will you come like a good girl?" he asks as you spasm desperately in his lap riding out your orgasm, wrapping your arms around his neck and your lips to his in a sloppy kiss.
∴ omg Levi is FAT and LONG. — he's not aware that it's way too much until you ask him to slow down while he is hammering because he's splitting you in half. It has so much girth that you can't get your hand around it. Sensitive cock, literally just rub your thumb over his tight slit and he'll twitch. Breeder balls. Yes please, your cunt is a 10000/10 for him when he sees his cum dripping out because his load is too much. 9/10 his cum is bitter because of the tea he drinks
The headboard slams against the wall, but the possibility that the neighbors might complain doesn't cross your mind, not when his thick cock grinds fiercely inside your abused slit.
"Levi, oh shit" you groan, his strong arms hold you wide open as he rolls his hips against yours, his heavy balls slap your ass filling the room with lewd sounds, "I'm gonna fucking cum like this" you babble.
Your eyes roll back as Levi pushes your knees to your shoulders making you hold them open for him, "be good" he moans from above you, your mind feels too fuzzy but you do what he says.
You grab your thighs and take everything he gives you. His thick shaft pounds against your sweet spot making you feel full, his tip drooling pre cum as it sways back and forth.
Your eyes fill with tears and your walls throb around his cock, "a little more" he slurs grabbing your hips as he pushes his shaft past your slick folds, "you're so tight" he coo lasciviously.
His thick cock spreads your tight walls making you moan as Levi begins to pound desperately, he grinds his thumb on your puffy clit making it throb as you start to cum and gush, squirting around its girth.
"Fuck, that's it" he moans slamming his shaft down on your clit as he is pushed out by your milky cum, "that's a good girl" he coos rubbing his cock on your folds to extend your pleasure and release his load on your belly.
🏷. @im-eating-rn @shoto-daddy @imkumichan @yunho-leeknow @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein @tojibreedingme @littlemochi @weyheyavengers @yeagerfushiguro @senjuasuna @devynfayrer @sirenuh-blog1 @sukunasbabymama @lilymoonpie @cryszus @dukina @spicybunnyxp @matssuncxmslxt @shigamiryuk @narmisseite @hannas16 @kurtaclangobrr @daoyuu @itsmeseph @awkwardchick87 @ramens-posts @imkumichan @trueshellz @peace-for-levi @tojidilfs @lobotomy-lover @keresssss @jiminie-08 @simpforerenn @seiiblue @snoopysxng @toshigimmemilk @atsushisbunny @ray-lol @blesserqueen @fantasyfairysworld @ren-simp
What about Levi x reader with a new baby and she is already a little insecure about breastfeeding cause it's just not going right. Then, out and about one day they realize they forgot a bottle and she decides to breastfeed in public (which can be controversial) and Levi tries to shield reader and the baby for her comfort and tells off anyone who has something to say. It starts going much better after that with both reader and baby getting the hang of things.
And it's totally cool if it's not up your alley. But if you want, a story or HC discussion, whatever you think. And, what DO you think Levis reaction is?... I almost went with something different but couldn't stop thinking of this.
Personally? I think there is nothing wrong with breastfeeding in public. Baby gotta eat. Only became a problem because breasts have been over-sexualised. Let that woman feed in public! Let the baby eat! Stop making women feel ashamed of their bodies!
@kenkopanda-art is so bad ass <3 look at this pretty banner!
Pairing: Levi x Reader
Genre and tags: Modern AU, fluff, cute, first time parents, newborns, dad Levi, protective Levi.
Concept: Levi can see how exhausted you seem from your baby not latching on when it comes to breastfeeding. Your husband suggests a nice walk in the park to relax you a bit. As you walk, your baby starts to fuss needing food. You check the bags but can't find the bottles, which means you have to feed your baby in public. Levi shields you from prying eyes and shuts up anyone who makes a comment. You don't care because your baby finally feeds.
Levi rocked his little baby in his arms with a soft smile on his face. Things had gone perfectly so far. You were healing well, he was changing nappies and doing the middle of the night wake ups and your baby was healthy. You were both a well-oiled machine full of love, but there was just one issue.
Your baby was refusing to breastfeed. Levi could see it was getting to you emotionally, so he was doing everything he could to support you. He was giving you massages, baths, all the good food. Levi was a fantastic husband and father. He did everything for you, which is why he felt awful that he couldn't fix this one thing for you.
He approached you sitting on the sofa looking mentally tired. "I have an idea."
You smiled at your husband and sweet baby. "Oh yeah?"
"I think all three of us need to get out of this house. How about a walk in the park?"
You got up and sighed. "Perfect idea." You kissed your husband, then tickled your baby's cheek with love in your eyes. "Sweet baby."
He handed the baby over. "I'll get everything together."
"Thanks." You smiled down at your newborn. "So cute. We make cute babies."
Levi hummed a laugh and got distracted by gazing at you. "Yeah." He blushed and hurried with the rest. "Come on."
You lay your baby in the carrier and sighed. "There we go."
Levi pushed the pram as you hugged his arm. He led the way to the park and walked slowly with you. He smiled a little as he felt you relaxing with each step. He just wanted to fix everything and make things perfect. He wanted you to be happy. He knew there would be some issues and he was prepared, but he was too prepared. He knew he needed to take a step back and let you feel.
You jumped when your baby started fussing. "Have you got a bottle?"
Levi checked the bag hanging on the pram. "I should." He felt a cold rush through him. "I swear I packed them...oh...shit I got distracted. I'm sorry."
You nibbled your lip. "Levi?"
He led you to a bench. "Just try, okay?"
You nodded. "Okay."
He handed you the baby. "Here." He took his cardigan off as you started pulling your top down on one side. He hid your breast and the baby with his cardigan. "That okay?"
You gulped. "Yeah. Thank you." You massaged the top of your breast. "Alright little bean, feed from mummy."
"Unbelievable." A man tutted. "Feeding in public? Children could see."
Levi glared at him. "Listen, asshole. Breastfeeding is perfectly natural and my baby needs to eat. You going to let a baby starve because you only see breasts as things for pleasure?"
The man scrunched his nose up. "Breasts are sexual things!"
"Then why the fuck do they make milk for babies? If they were just for pleasure, then they wouldn't produce shit and just be sensitive things."
You looked at your husband. "Levi?"
"Hold on, sugarplum." He stood up and pointed at the man. "You don't know what we've been through, you don't know us, you aren't the police and her breast isn't hanging out."
He turned to you. "Honey."
You smiled. "It's working."
Levi lit up. "Wait, really?"
You welled up and nodded. "Yes. I'm finally breastfeeding."
Levi sat down and put his arm around you. "I'm so glad." He kissed the top of your head. "I bet you're going to sleep tonight."
You giggled. "I am."
He wiped your tears away. He kissed you, then pulled back the cardigan a little and looked down at his baby feeding. "Hungry, aren't you?"
"Very, it seems." You laughed and looked up at the man. "Fuck off!" You smiled when he ran off. "Honestly! Who is he to say how I use my breasts? Asshole."
Levi hummed a laugh. "You're a wonderful mother."
"Thank you. You're the best dad and husband." You kissed him and moaned a little. "I love you."
"Love you too."
You gasped. "Oh, burping time."
Levi took his baby from you and held them against his chest. He patted their little back until they burped. "All done."
You tucked yourself away and sighed. "Thank you."
"I'll do anything for you both." He lay his little bean in their pram before pulling you close and holding you. He rocked the pram to get his little one to sleep. "Anything."
You nuzzled the crook of Levi's neck. "Thank you."
Hey, love? Hmmm?
Late night thoughts #11:
Miche and Nanaba finally tight the knot and decided to throw a wedding in the Scout's HQ. You had been choosen as one of Nanaba's bridesmaids and Levi was Miche's best man.
With limited budget, everyone in the Scout chipped in and helped with the wedding. The men and boys decorating the canteen into the wedding hall, while women and girls prepared the food. The best men and bridesmaids were responsible to ensure the bride and groom look presentable during the ceremony.
With a tight schedule and a lot of work, you and Levi didn't get to see each other much. You even spent the nights with Nanaba and the other bridesmaids (Hange and Petra) working on the dresses and decorating Miche and Nanaba's new room. Erwin gave them a private room at the end of the least used wing of the castle.
After 5 days of chaos, it was finally the wedding day. Miche and his best men, Moblit and Levi wore their best suit that they sheldom wore, waiting for the bride's (and bridesmaids') first look. The 3 men were nervous, especially Levi because he had never seen you in a dress and his thoughts were running wild.
"Here comes the bride, boys," Hange announced as you approached with Nanaba walking between you and Petra. The men turned and their eyes widened with shock when they laid eyes on Nanaba. Nanaba in a spaghetti strip silk white dress to her ankles, a string of pink pearls hanging between her collar bones, and a crown made from fresh daisies sitting slightly crooked on her blond hair. She looked like a fairy. As they locked eyes, tears streamed down Miche's cheeks, reminding him how far they had come.
When everybody was admiring Nanaba and Miche's sweet interaction (crying, wiping tears and whispering I Love Yous), Levi had been staring at you with awe. When he first saw you walking down the stairs in that off shoulder lavender coloured dress, his mind was blank and his jaw dropped. You had a couple of tiny white daisies tied onto your hair (Petra's idea), like snow falling permanently on you. Subconsciously, he reached for your hand and pulled you closer gently, as if he was holding a porcelain doll.
"Hi, captain," you smiled brightly at him, checking him out in his black suit and slacks. "Hi...," he whispered, "you... you look b-beautiful." He blushed. Levi had never been good with compliments.
Kissing his cheek, "you look stunning, captain. You look like a prince." You told him.
"And you look like my bride," Levi thought out loud, blushing hard. Before you could react from that sudden comment, Levi had moved away, barking orders to Moblit to get a handkerchief for Nanaba and telling Miche to stop crying and get to the wedding hall because we were going to be late.
You smiled at your shy captain who got shock at his own comment as much as you. But you were happy to hear his honest thoughts. You started moving and helped Petra fixing Nanaba's makeup as Hange fixed her veil on her head.
Levi stole a glance at you before he disappeared into the hall with the groom.
"We are going to have a wedding too, someday," he secretly made a promise to you.
Hi Jelly. Could you do Levi x affectionate reader, but she's shy to be affectionate with him (they are still just friends with mutual pining) and he's confused about it thinking she might hate him because of this lack of fisical contat, and then he comfronts her and she addmits she was scared he wouldn't like it, but from now on she will shower him with affection
Cute <3 Yes.
@kenkopanda-art just rocking it with these banners <3
Pairing: Levi x Reader
Genre and tags: Romance, confessions, shy reader, affectionate reader, cute, fluff, modern AU.
Concept: You and Levi have feelings for each other and since you realised it, you've been holding back on affection towards Levi because you don't think he'd want you to be like that. Levi notices the change and misses your affection. When he confronts you in his office, you confess your feelings.
Levi watched you hug Hange tightly as you both laughed and joked together. He had noticed you'd stopped hugging him and being playful with him for two weeks. Levi's heart hurt because having that affection allowed him to be close to you.
He hated this distance.
His eye twitched when you playfully shoved Mike. "Tch, damn it."
Erwin leaned against the wall next to his friend. "Something on your mind?"
"What is it?"
He nodded to you. "She's stopped being like that with me."
"Right." Erwin tousled his blonde hair. "Perhaps you should have a chat with her? Instead of guessing, you should ask her what's changed and she will tell you."
Levi clenched his jaw. "I don't like cornering her at work."
"Then outside of work."
"Maybe." He pushed away from the wall. "I just want my friend back."
Erwin watched Levi sulk as he walked to his office. "Poor guy." He approached you and motioned for you to follow him to a little corner. "Hey, Levi needs to see you in his office. Before you go, what's going on?"
You hugged yourself. "I developed feelings."
"You should tell him."
He pointed. "Office."
You hummed. "Yeah, see you soon." You strolled down to Levi's office and knocked. You entered once he gave your permission. "Hey, Erwin said you needed to see me?"
Levi sat on his desk. "No, but I'm going to take advantage of this moment. We need to talk."
You nibbled your lip. "Sure."
"You've stopped with the touching, hugging and playfulness. Did I do something to offend you?"
You shook your head. "No."
He shrugged. "Then what the fuck is going on?"
You sighed. "The problem is how I feel."
You sat on his sofa. "I've fallen for you. At first, it was a little crush, but the more affectionate I was with you the harder I fell. I got scared you wouldn't like it if you knew I was being affectionate because I had feelings for you. So, I stopped."
Levi wiggled his finger. "Come closer."
You walked over to Levi. "I'm sorry. I'll do my best to hold back my feelings."
He reached out and held your chin. "You really do have feelings for me?"
He blushed hard. "Then you should be more affectionate with me, right?" He gulped hard. "To show how much you want me."
You frowned a little. "But that wouldn't be right if it was onesided."
He kissed you and hummed. "It's not."
You blushed hard. "Good."
He let you go and pouted. "So you better be more affectionate."
You stood between Levi's legs and wrapped your arms tightly around Levi. "Yes, Levi."
Levi hugged you back and hummed. "I only like it when you're affectionate with me, mainly because you're special."
You pulled back a bit as Levi placed his hands on your lower back. "Well, I'll be super affectionate now."
"Good and if you ever have something on your mind, just talk to me."
You smiled. "You too."
He cleared his throat as he blushed. "N-Now, I would like m-more of those kisses."
You giggled. "I'll happily give them to you."