#attack on titan fic

[peachdues]

another snippet from my upcoming Levi x Reader fic, Coalescence, a secret pregnancy AU first teased here.

Pregnant.

How the fuck could you be pregnant?

Levi’s mouth twisted down in a grimace. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know exactly how a woman came to be with child — in fact, he’d wager that he was incredibly well-versed in such activities.

Especially when it came to you.

The how in practice wasn’t what concerned him; it was the how in theory, that he couldn’t wrap his mind around.

You’d had an implant put in a year prior, right after the two of you had given into the raging desire that had been steadily mounting between you, finally boiling over after a heated exchange over your future with the Scouts.

The night in question had started with Levi in your face, berating you about duty and wasted potential. The Captain had been uncharacteristically flustered as you’d stared him down, hotly reminding him that he would have to drag you, kicking and screaming to the Commander’s office, pistol to your head, before you’d accept a position as squad leader.

It ended with you spread out on his desk, Levi’s face between your thighs, followed by his cock, as he’d pressed you into the wood and fucked every last pent up emotion he’d ever felt right into your pliant, heavenly body.

The way you’d whimpered his name, the way you’d tugged at the inky strands of his hair as he’d pounded into you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise, had made him see white. It pained him to have to silence your whines, which had grown in vibrato the closer you came to your climax, by sliding two fingers into your mouth.

Whatever disappointment he’d felt had been fleeting however, as you’d moaned, tongue swirling around his digits as you’d watched him through half-lidded eyes.

It was then that Levi knew he was a goner.

—-

You’d marched into his barracks not two days later, a fire in your eyes as you pinned him with a heated stare and told him you’d had an implant put into your arm, meant to keep any accidents from happening.

Levi hadn’t asked any further questions; not as he’d crossed the floor of his office and began tugging the straps of your ODM gear away from your body.

But that implant, however, apparently hadn’t been worth shit, because now, you were pregnant.

Pregnant, with his child.

And now, you were lying in an infirmary bed, unconscious and bloodied, because you’d been injured as you’d fought to defend Trost from the onslaught of Titans that slipped through the hole in Wall Rose.

While pregnant. With his baby.

Provided Levi could hold onto whatever vestiges of his sanity remained until you awoke, he was going to kick your ass.

#attack on titan #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan fic #aot fic #levi ackerman x you #captain levi x reader #levi smut

[dvrkfverie]

when boyfriend!eren fucks, he fucks. hear me out

when boyfriend!eren is in a soft mood, he will take things slow, not holding back his pretty noises, and rather than being rough and pounding into you, he instead grinds, slowly but deeply, he rolls his hips and grinds himself into you, making sure you feel him deep inside you, wanting to hit all your spots in the gentlest way possible. when he isn’t drunk on the noises you make, how you whine his name and how you beg for him, his lips are on yours. kissing you while he’s inside you is his favourite thing. especially if he has you on his lap, guiding your hips to roll sickeningly slow on his cock, and your arms are around his shoulders, one hand tangled in his hair, and your lips working together.

when boyfriend!eren has had a shit day, all he wants to do is fuck his pretty partner. he beelines straight for you when he walks into your home and picks you up. you can usually tell when he needs you but he always always says it. “mm need you. please.” his tone so desperate you cannot bear denying him. he’s already carrying you to your shared room, half throwing you on the bed and ripping any clothing off of you, then himself. he always always stretches you out with his fingers first, just one or two to get you nice and wet if you weren’t already (you were) before he slams himself into you, his hips slapping against your skin as he fucks out his anger, his frustration. he was ashamed, though he’d never actually admit it, how he needed to do this, but having you at his mercy while he bruises your cervix is something that releases his tension like nothing else.

boyfriend!eren also loves when you go feral for him. before you he never liked creampies and cumming inside, it was never a risk he wanted to take but you make him wish he’d been filling you up since the beginning of time. the way you’d continue to bound on his cock even after you’d both cum more times than you can count purely because you loved how it felt, the noises of both your juices squelching as you drop yourself down on him again and again. seeing your face, how fucked out you are but still going, the way you babble nonsense, fucked absolutely stupid, he decides he never wants to do anything else. when your pace slows, he grips your hips tightly, pulling you down as he bucks his hips up. it’s always a mess afterwards but my god the both of you are too fucked out to care.

#eren jeager smut #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #attack on titan fic #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #i have been thinking about this too much and i HAD to write it before i exploded

[theragethatisdesire]

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

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

pairing: reader x eren jaeger

wc: 7.5k (jesus christ)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Says the one wearing a $6,000 suit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you explored the grounds at all?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t take them off.”

“The wine stains?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“Eren!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eren–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gonna sit you up now, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it, feels good doesn’t it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eren, Eren I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you think?”

You frown, confused. “About?”

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

“Eren–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[amywritesthings]

silver underground. | chapter 21

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.8k Summary: day 163 - also know as the day your world changed Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - mentions of violence, death, bloodshed; miscommunications; amnesia trope; angst af

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CHAPTER 21

Bergamot. 

He smells like fresh dirt and home and bergamot.

A pair of arms cocoon around you, holding you in place. Cradling the back of your head, lifting it from touching the ground, is a strong palm. 

Sounds of the outside world are muffled; distant.

Here all you can hear is the wild thumping of your heart, your blood strongly coursing through your veins.

I am alive.

I am alive.

I am alive.

The crash happened so fast—

Falling from the sky. Sliding across the forest floor. Rolling over and over and over—

Until your body stopped abruptly against a cushion of muscle.

When the dust cloud settles, when the fog fades into vapor, you open your eyes.

Shades of deep, vertical brown overtake your vision. It's so vibrant, familiar yet new. For what feels like hours you stare at a small bug, a speckled ladybug, crawling in circles until it decides to head north.

With each passing exhale your attention travels with it — up, up, up — when causation connects:

One of the mighty tree trunks of the forest broke this violent fall.

(But not just for you — he was the one to take the brunt of the damage.)

He...

When your lips part, your mouth is dry.

Constricted, confused lungs try for their very first breath.

Inhale.

Breathe.

Stay with me.

But that isn't your voice; not in your mind's eye.

Blurry images flash along your vision, sprinkling red, black, and silver against the brush and trees of the forest.

No matter how many times you blink, squeeze, tear up, the visuals scatter like materialized pins and needles.

They won't go away. They clip to your peripheral, forcing you to confront what's ahead.

Nothing is linear. Nothing is clear.

Nausea, relief, uncertainty, rage — these emotions assault your senses. Emotions. Mind.

It’s like waking up after a horrible dream.

One you’ve been kicking and screaming to leave the minute it started.

Let me out.

The freefall plays over and over, a never-ending loop of sickening weightlessness, without a means to jolt yourself awake.

Let me out, let me out, let me— 

Something mirrors your heart beat and fractures in its own rhythm, pounding erratically against your chest.

Your heart still beats, but not as panicked — not as heavy — as this.

As... his.

Him — the one who broke your fall.

(Levi.)

Without thinking, your trembling hand rises past his ribcage, up his arm, to his fingers resting on your trembling shoulder.

Then you realize it isn't your body that's shaking.

It's Levi's.

Quivering like a leaf, gasping for breath as if he’s run a marathon. 

He doesn’t move. He’s frozen in time, right where you left him.

(I’m sorry.)

Over and over, you replay precious seconds in the back of your mind — fractured memories you’ve only just begun to uncover.

Falling.

Darkness. 

(James? James, shit, wake up—)

A voice crack.

Hopelessness.

Instinctively your arms surround him, as if dissolving him into your very pores will somehow help with the confusion in your gut. 

Even when your fingers raise hire on your shoulder to glide along his, he doesn’t relax. 

If anything, his ivory muscles forge into steel.

Prepared, like you’re the enemy.

They do not soften when your fingers curl, timid and experimental, around his hand for reassurance.

(Wake up.)

They do not yield when you exhale, slow and steady.

They do not rest when you squeeze, as if to offer a sign of life.

(Please, James, don’t do this to—)

“Levi.”

Two syllables — you murmur his very name, realizing the severity of all that you’ve missed.

The dampness of the Underground City right above your heads;

The heat of the sun on a riverbank of the surface;

The light of the morning, just outside an open window, glittering over a bare shoulder;

All puzzle pieces, scattered across a large table.

They fit together in a way — you just need to figure out where.

When you inch your face away from his body, you see it: those blue-gray eyes, pupils dilated and whites wide, staring straight through you.

(As though lost in another time, in the same nothingness you’d lost yourself in for months.)

His chest heaves in and out, trying to catch a breath that just won’t come.

Wretched, heavy gasps contain the fear.

The panic.

All while reliving, too.

“Levi?” you ask once more, softer this time.

A sharp battle cry sounds above your heads. You glance high to witness the silhouette of Petra flying through the canopy of trees with a trail of steam behind her, swords extended.

The titan has been defeated. 

The forest floor quakes and shivers with its demise.

Except that isn’t how the mission happened last time.

The realization is a chilling thought creeping, infecting, the back of your mind as you return your attention to the captain in front of you.

“Levi.” 

You urge firmer this time, but it’s no use.

Levi Ackerman continues to stare ahead, but he blinks. Rapid fire, as if trying to return to his body.

This face.

You gravitate towards this face that consumes every waking dream you’ve ever had.

Caging his face between your palms, you finally snap with a command.

“Levi, look at me.”

His gray eyes shoot down, catching yours, and your entire world feels warm again.

The light in a never-ending darkness.

Your past is your present and your present tumbles into your past.

An undiscovered constellation of points in your memory that haven’t quite lined up yet, but him…

All you know is that you have missed him, this incorrigible man, lying beside you.

And all this time, it is Levi Ackerman that holds the frame of the puzzle you have been trying to solve.

Instinctively your thumbs run along his cheekbones, causing his eyes to grow impossibly wider.

Unwise, perhaps, but the softened motion brings you comfort unlike anything else, tethering bits and pieces together in the mind by touch alone.

Bits and pieces, to bigger pictures —

You — a nobody from the Underground City, meant to die by the hands of greed and saved by ones of promise.

You — a formidable fighter, a friend, a colleague, a lover.

You — Lieutenant James, member of the Special Operations squad in the Survey Corps.

Maybe you don’t have the whole story yet, but whoever she is… whoever you are…

She’s supposed to be right here.

Levi’s eyes flutter over your face as if to search for injury or damage, but he doesn’t remove his arms from your body. The captain continues to cradle you as if you'll disappear, dissolve, into the mist that swallows your very waking daydreams.

So you lean closer, murmuring just under your breath with pure wonder.

Recognition.

“I know you.”

‘You know me.’

You recall standing right in front of him months ago, begging in a stable.

Those fateful few months before you really knew how close you were to the truth.

'You know me, but you won’t help me. Why?’

That doubt on his face, deeply ingrained in curbed expectations.

It's a memory you haven’t been able to shake, not since you awoke from the hospital.

Now it twists into something much darker.

‘Because you finally have an out.’

Profound sadness infects your stomach when one jagged edge aligns with another.

The memory, fresh as morning dew on a weed, sprouts before your very eyes.

Yes, you do know him.

Yes, he wouldn’t help you.

Because you’ve been down this road before.

But not like this.

Not wrapped up like two star crossed lovers.

(That’s why you hate me.)

— suddenly your back meets the ground.

A pair of hands abruptly push you, knocking you down to the forest floor with a whoosh of a small oof from your lungs.

Your eyes connect with the bright blue sky, the twinkling of green leaves, the expanse of a bird's wing flying high above.

I know this place.

Why can't you say it out loud?

In a hasty cloud of dust, Levi's boots keep up dirt as he scrambles off of you.

To steady himself, his pale palm presses to the tree trunk. He heaves once, twice, before exhaling fully.

Breath finally returns to his body. What once was pale now has color.

When you eventually turn your gaze to him, he glares directly at you, but it isn’t cruel.

Feral, maybe, and diluted in his own confusion, but not cruel.

(You’d never witnessed someone so beautiful in your life.)

In a new light, you finally see him — a mirror image of two worlds, old and new. Of what your body misses to its very core. Of what your mind wants to remember, to know as intimately as it once did.

Slowly you roll to your belly and push up with your arms. You draw up on one knee, your hand instinctively raising to graze your neck.

There.

The silver pendant, tiny and profound, remains intact. 

The fall didn’t destroy it.

Immense relief floods your system, and your fingers cradle it like a lifeline.

'You don’t own anything. Now you do.'

That melodic baritone guides your ghost of a hand, adhering one more piece to the puzzle.

A fuller frame.

All you want to do is run to him, speak to him, hear his voice, but all you can do is watch as he cycles through the motions of getting his shit together.

Struggling through stages of anger, betrayal, relief, and longing — 

Before addressing you as Captain Levi would.

Because he doesn’t know.

He didn’t hear.

(You didn't say.)

“Are you out of your mind?”

An ironic question, all things considered. 

Your lips part to answer, but his finger raises to warn against that judgment.

A curtain of dark fringe hangs over his eyes, shoulders heaving.

“Direct insubordination against your superior,” he spits, but the edge to his voice is frayed.

He’s barely hanging on by mere threads. You want to knit them back together so badly.

“And endangering the entire squad–”

“Levi—"

“Oluo would have been fine, but you? You weren’t ready.”

Standing on both feet now, you ignore the dirt and debris on your white uniform and take a step forward in earnest. 

“Levi, if you would just—”

“I didn’t ask you to speak, James.”

His bark is as cold as ice, causing you to stop your pleas right in their tracks.

Your own wide eyes stare at him as he reprimands you, seemingly unhinged by what has transpired.

Your mouth shuts into a thin line, willing yourself to hear him out.

To hear him.

Piece by piece, the image fills—

“Commander Erwin was wrong to put you back in the Scouts," Levi growls. It’s spoken as if to convince himself of that very truth. “Abandoning your horse, defying my orders, acting without any regard for your fellow squad mates—”

He seethes, a flicker of rage fluttering across his face.

“—the recklessness of your actions could have cost not only your life, but the lives of my squad.”

“Our squad,” you correct boldly without realizing you’ve said the words out loud.

Wrong answer. His anger only grows.

“My,” he corrects viciously, “squad. You are a—”

“—Lieutenant, which is practically the same rank as you,” you blurt with your own anger, the adrenaline flushed through your veins as newfound familiarity seeps into your veins. "The titles don't mean anything. It's just shit made up for people like us."

“Excuse me?” he growls, and you don’t let up.

“And I know Commander Erwin has always favored you more, but you only pull ahead of me by two goddamn months in the Scout Regiment,” you desperately rasp, the excitement too great, “so shut the hell up and listen to me, Levi Ackerman, because I know you.”

Exhaling your frustrations in heavy heaps, you refuse to cower.

There is no reason to fear this man. There never was.

"I know you," you repeat, defeated.

As if you've confessed at the foot of his altar.

Levi, despite all of his anger, turns his chin sideways with a growing bewilderment. 

Now that you speak, you can see the dots connecting behind his very eyes. 

All you can do is hope — all you have is hope.

When he doesn't say anything, you step forward and continue.

"This whole time. This entire time you've tried... you tried to shut me out because you knew that if you did, I'd walk away."

"What?" Finally, he speaks, but his voice drops with caution.

"You said you wouldn't shut me out."

"And I didn't."

"But you wanted to give me an out, right?" you remind. "That's what you told me the day in the stables at the cadet camp."

His teeth grit. "I told you—"

"That day, you agreed to give me a second chance, but you hoped I'd get too scared in the forest and run the other way. Except I've seen things and—"

That grit dies instantly. "Wait, seen things?"

"Yes, I've seen pieces, Levi," you admit. "Pieces."

"Of—?"

"Us. Of my life." Your fire dies. "Of our life."

His jaw clenches so hard that his teeth could shatter.

Your shoulders drop, defenseless. Your hand touches the back of your head, trying to feel for where you might have hit it on the ground back then.

"You ran from me in that hospital in Trost when I woke up. You saw I couldn't remember you right away, so you thought..."

A small laugh of relief exits your mouth before you can stop it.

There are so many black spots in your mind's eye, but…

His face paves the way.

Four hearts, staring up at a skyless night; now only two remain.

"Damn it, you really thought I would never remember you when you were my entire life."

Falling.

All you’ve ever done is fall.

On your back, as a child in those fighting rings in the Underground City.

On your side, struggling to learn the inner workings of stolen ODM gear while a rambunctious boy with ash-blonde hair laughs to the sky.

On your front, when two strong arms pulled you on top of him, lips crashed to yours.

Yet Levi always held out his hand and picked you up.

Now his fists are translucent, tight at his sides, as your eyes meet.

“And so you pushed me around in hopes that I'd leave you here," you conclude sadly, "all while you blamed yourself for the rest of your days for my mistake — right?”

It’s as if you’ve confessed you’re a titan in the flesh.

Levi staggers back, the clink of his ODM gear rattling as he moves.

His eyes flutter all over your face, studying, searching—

“What the hell are you saying?” the captain croaks, unlike himself.

He stares, clearly waiting for the final blow, like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hand.

Oluo and Petra are somewhere.

And wherever they are means Gunther and Eld are likely not far behind.

They’ll approach at any moment to regroup with the Captain.

But you need him to understand—

Levi's jaws clenches again; an overwhelming flurry of emotion settling on his tongue.

He looks two seconds away from detonating.

"What did you remember?" his voice cracks, the facade shattering. "Just say it, damn it, what the fuck did you remem—"

“James!”

The panicked voice of Oluo shouts from the sky.

Petra follows not long after, attaching to the base of the tree trunks to softly find a landing on her feet.

The rest of the squad follow suit, eyes wide.

“Whoa, are you alright?” Oluo repeats, rushing forward. “The hell just happened out there?”

“Her gear got caught,” Petra replies with equal urgency. “I saw it when Captain Levi took off after you two.”

“Her gear?!” Oluo yelps.

The two of them rush over while their hands reach out, swiping your emerald cloak up and away.

They duck their attention to the gear to assess the damage.

The ODM canisters don’t look particularly busted, but the wire dangles helplessly without its spike.

You note just how nervous everyone looks.

Because everyone knows the story, you realize deep in your belly.

The story where a member of the Levi Squad fought titans and got her gear stuck, resulting in a catastrophic head injury where her memories were no more.

The one where they nearly lost one of their elite, only to result in that woman becoming a completely blank slate.

Someone that they'll never get back.

Except she's screaming in your head, slamming against your skull.

I'm here! I'm here, don't you see? I'm still here!

Eld and Gunther quickly descend next, their feet pattering with the quickness towards where you stand.

The squad surrounds you with a million questions, checking your head should there be damage.

Petra even places a gentle hand on your heart, but it’s hammering.

Alive.

Levi says nothing, does nothing; his chin ducks to his emerald collar, allowing his squad to have their time.

“You scared the shit out of us,” Gunther admits with a sigh.

“The hell were you thinking?” Eld adds.

You sheepishly shake your head, eyes still attached to Levi. “I-I wasn’t—”

“I had it, James,” Oluo counters, cutting you off. “I had that titan. You didn’t need to go back for me and almost risk your damn life.”

“Hate to say it, but I agree with Oluo,” Petra replies with a soft sigh, before pulling you in for a small hug. Your arms remain lamely at your sides. “You didn't need to prove you were badass to us, alright? We know." She lets go. "How did you cut yourself loose?”

“She didn’t.”

Levi’s voice breaks through, stopping everyone in their tracks.

He turns on a heel away from the squad, head remaining in a bow, and walks in the direction they'd arrived from.

“I caught her.”

You note the changes in expressions on the rest of the squad's faces.

Recognition smooths over their tired lines, like the significance isn’t lost on them.

Suddenly they duck their chins, too, as if ashamed for gossiping.

Only you remain with your head up, eyes square on the captain.

He does not look your way.

“Outing’s over. We’ll just have to break Four Eyes’ heart and tell them we didn’t capture any of those bastards today.”

“But we didn’t even make it halfway through,” Eld starts, turning his boot towards the captain with surprise. “We can go further.”

"Wait, we managed to clear the forest?" you ask without thinking, causing Eld and Oluo to glance your way.

Oluo’s eyebrows slide high to his hairline.

Eld’s narrow to a point.

“It… was,” Eld slowly, carefully, explains, “but the mission you — the one that you — Wait.”

"People still made it to the other side after I fell?" you exhale.

They made it.

The Scouts managed to push to the end of the forest.

The mission wasn't all for nothing.

A flurry of confused relief floods your system, yet the squad looks at you with pure confusion.

“...none of us told her about the forest debrief from last year yet, did we?” Oluo inquires, pointing to Petra. “Hey, did you snitch?”

“Huh? Snitch?!” Petra yelps. “What the hell would I snitch about? It’s not like it's a secret to anyone here what went down.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t make it long enough to see the end of it,” Gunther replies, rubbing his chin between his thumb and index finger. “And we all agreed not to bring up said mission when she woke up until she was cleared by that doctor guy she saved.”

“Doctor?” you blurt under your breath, blinking. "That I...?"

That you saved…

Albeit foggy, you remember the other team that fateful day.

Miro squad. 

There were so many names, so much chaos…

You struggle to remember the finer details, but there was someone named Rini.

An older man — or did he just look weatherworn from war?

Was it the same man from Trost?

“Wait. James.” Petra rounds you, searching your face with budding excitement. “Do you remember the last mission you were on? Is that why you’re—”

“I said the outing’s over.”

Levi's command bites off her question, and Petra falters.

“I already have one shithead disobeying instructions. Is this going to become a trend?”

The squad goes silent, turning to their captain.

“Get the damn horses back,” the captain growls. “We’ll reconvene as a group back at headquarters. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” they all respond in unison.

One after the other, they offer a look of condolences to you before ascending to the skies.

Leaving Levi and yourself to remain.

In the back of your mind, you remember the odds.

Forty to eighty.

The screams of terror.

The urgency to fly through the trees.

A formation of horses…

A corner of the puzzle is complete.

Help me.

Why won’t you help me?

“Levi?” you start, and you see his face flinch at your tone. “Can we talk?”

“Not here,” he replies curtly.

“But—”

“I said not here,” he grunts, turning his chin to regard you over his shoulder. “I’m not doing this here.”

When his eyes meet yours, they soften.

Apologetic.

As if he’s teetering on the brink of giving up completely.

“Go back to your quarters,” he urges. “Clear your head. Figure out if…”

Did his voice just crack again?

You can’t help but gravitate towards his orbit, boots gently stepping closer.

“...figure out if you mean it,” he finishes, stronger now. “If you really do remember — any of this. We'll reconvene and debrief back at headquarters, but I told you: I'm not feeding you our memories. If you think you know me, then say it with your whole damn chest and hold nothing back."

His chin drops, his black fringe falling over his eyes.

You can't see what he's thinking, how he's feeling, but the way his voice turns to a whisper breaks your heart.

"I can’t keep up with these false hopes anymore.”

The necklace on your sternum burns.

Although you have a million questions, a thousand apologies, a dozen pleas, and very few certainties, you say one thing in return.

"Yes, sir."

You both stand in silence, awaiting the horses.

He stares at the ground.

You continue staring at him.

I know you.

You're the only certainty I have.

Once the rest of the squad arrives, you mount your horse and keep formation.

The sun bursts free.

There are no more trees clouding your vision.

Ahead there is an expanse of grass, reclaimed by time.

(A new start.)

Levi Squad returns to headquarters without a casualty in tow.

.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #aot fic #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #snk fanfic #snk fic #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fic #attack on titan fic #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fic #sliver underground #wip series #amywritesthings

[chosos-mascara]

seven minutes

𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙞 𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - levi hates you. but, after spin the bottle decides your fate, you make up and hatred turns to lust.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - college party, alcohol (therefore dub-con), kinda enemies 2 lovers, mentions of cheating (petra to levi), i feel like i wrote him ooc soz, PiV, condom usage, some instruction?

3.7k words

"He's staring directly at you." Connie spoke, hushed voice close to your ear as his breath fanned over your cheek. Your eyes darted around the room, finally finding the narrow grey ones Connie had been referring to, aimed at you with a killer glare. Once making eye contact, he'd slowly looked away, scowl over his face as he'd watched Erwin speak hands gesturing as his friends had listened closely.

"Let me talk to him." Connie stood, but had been stopped by your hand reaching outward, fingers wrapping around his wrist. "Please, don't. Plus, it's his place - don't get us kicked out of the party." You'd begged him with your gaze, a small shake of the head. "Just ignore him, I'm fine." The persuasion had his figure relaxing, giving in and sitting back down on the battered three seater. Sasha threw an arm around him, sitting widely on the other side of him with drink in hand.

"We should play a game!" Sasha shouted in order for rest of the group to hear, Jean moving his chair closer, Eren, Mikasa and Armin leaning in. "How 'bout truth or dare?" Sasha had ended with a smile, the other members of the group instead groaning. "What?" Her question was lost in the chatter once more as those surrounding had lost interest. Connie had laughed at his friend, an eager girl who'd had a heart bigger than a brain - or perhaps, it had been her stomach.

"Why does Ackerman keep staring?" Jean's voice had pulled you from your focus on Connie and Sasha as he'd had his elbows to thighs, leaning forward.  "He thinks I had something to do with Petra cheating." You spoke as you'd swirled the drink around in the red solo cup, sighing before bringing it to lips. As you drank, you watched Jeans eyebrow furrow, thinking for a moment. He'd tried to connect the dots in his head, but couldn't. Once satisfied with the amount of liquor in your throat, you pulled the cup from your mouth and held it back down upon your lap, liquid now sufficiently lessened. 

"I was friends with Petra, back in freshman year. New to college, new to Germany as a whole - she was the student ambassador assigned to me. Brought me along to some parties, before I met you guys." As you'd explained, you'd looked through the corner of your vision to check what Levi had been doing. He'd stopped obsessing over your every movement, instead complaining to Hange, her arms wrapped around him as she'd laughed. He'd looked miserable as ever. 

"There was a party, it was in February that year - she got off with Eld in seven minutes in heaven. I opened the door and saw them, but didn't tell Levi. He found out a few weeks after and blames me for not telling him sooner." Your explanation had ended with a long exhale of breath you hadn't realised you'd held, another twist of the plastic cup.  "But that's ridiculous-" Jean began, but you raised a hand.  "He's right. I should've told him." Defeated tone, you slumped back against the cushions. 

"Seven minutes in heaven!" The shout of Pieck had brought you from the racing in your mind, an uncomfortable shift in the seat at the ill-timing of the announcement. An innate reaction of your sight meeting with Levi's had made matters worse, his hardened gaze looking back at you. Hange and Erwin had stood, smiling wide and preparing to move forward, while he'd remained seated. Fingers wrapped around your shoulders as you were pulled upward, suddenly aware of Sasha and Connie's excited expressions as they'd dragged you toward the circle forming on the other side of the room. 

"N-no, guys." The protests from your lips had been ignored as you'd fought against them, only to be seated among your group, bottle in the center of a wide circle.  "It'll be fun!" Sasha shouted as the bottle spun, the first pair of students making their way upstairs. First, the bedrooms would be filled out, with the final couple having to make do in the pantry cupboard. Sasha's cheeks turned red when the bottle's mouth had met her space, burning a deeper scarlet when it had spun again to land on Connie. 

That had left you beside Jean, awaiting the final two turns so you'd be able to leave, though as the spinning glass slowed and neared closer to you, your heart had been within your throat. Clear as day, no space for questioning, the green bottle had pointed at no one other than yourself. Time had seemed to slow as you watched anxiously at the second spin, bottle stopping within a matter of seconds. It had been with reluctance as you'd looked up, fear in your eyes replaced with horror when meeting with the bottle's suitor. It can't be-

Levi stared back at you, though hadn't looked frightened - he'd instead been filled with rage. When he'd began to stand, meaning to walk off, he'd been stopped by Erwin, who'd instead offered a shove toward the closet door. You'd been sat in shock, though soon found Eren and Mikasa following Erwin's actions, pushing you toward the pantry only a few meters away until both yourself and Levi had been shoved in, door barricaded on the other side. You'd fought to push it open, shoulder hitting into wood with loud thuds, eventually pushed aside by Levi as he'd repeated your actions. Loud groans of frustration left his chest as he'd kicked at the handle, though it had been in vain. 

"It's no use, Levi. We'll just have to wait until the time's up." A few boxes had been pushed against the wall and you'd taken one, placing it down behind you before sitting on it. Leaning back, you'd rested your head against one of many wooden shelves, watching as Levi had stopped taking his frustrations out on the door, instead sliding down the wood and meeting with the ground beneath his feet. He'd found himself in somewhat of a fetal position, ass to floor and knees folded to chest, head hanging low. Black hair had swayed before his face. 

For the first two minutes, there had been silence. You'd appreciated it, instead listening to the ambient chatter and muted music from beyond the closet door, though when sinking back and moving to allow yourself a more comfortable position, your knee had met with Levi's, igniting a fire within him as his head tilted back upward, eyes locking with yours. 

"Sorry-" You'd began a defensive apology, though had been cut short by his quick and stabbing anger.  "Don't fucking touch me." His words were muttered beneath his breath, though within the quiet of the closet, the closeness of the two of you, you'd been able to hear the statement clearly. "Why are you here, anyway? Who invited you and your shitty friend group?" A sigh of frustration had left you as he'd continued ranting. Drowning out his noise, you closed your eyes - squeezing them shut before taking a leap of faith and beginning to speak the words you'd wanted to say since that evening 18 months prior. 

"Levi -" Beginning, you'd interrupted yourself with a shaky exhale before continuing. "I'm so sorry. I should have told you when I saw them; but Petra was my only friend. I was so scared of being alone that I hadn't thought about you, and how you'd deserved to know."  Levi had let his stiffened exterior relax slightly, shoulders dropping. The open mouth with sharp tongue finally loosened, leaving an expression of thought written across his features. He'd calculated his reply for a few moments as your heart had raced, awaiting some sort of response. You'd considered continuing the apology before he'd finally started to speak, though hadn't needed to before he'd filled the silent air with a softer tone. 

"I appreciate honesty above all else." Levi spoke, hands clasping together, fingers interlacing as he'd continued. "If you'd have told me about Petra, Hange would've spoken to you - Erwin, too. And you have a group now, you didn't need her." Levi's statements felt redundant, though you'd appreciated the sudden lack of animosity.  "I'm sorry, Levi. Not telling you is something I regret, and it's actually part of the reason I don't speak to her anymore." His eyes had met with yours, and for the first time since their break-up, he hadn't looked at you with hate. "I wanted to speak with you about it, but you hated me so much that I couldn't get close to you even if I tried." 

He nodded, another exasperated sigh. "Just thought you'd sided with her." Levi explained, the tension within the closet suddenly lifting. Opening your mouth to speak again, you were interrupted by a loud bang; door opening and leaving Levi to fall backward. Hange had been on the other side, grin wide as Levi had scowled toward her, moving from the carpeted ground to brush himself off at his feet. You smiled toward Hange, pushing yourself from the crate you'd been sat rather uncomfortably upon to leave the cramped cupboard and return to your group of friends. 

"Shit, you were in there with Ackerman?" Jean's voice had been the first you'd heard since returning, to which you'd been left to nod. Though, a small smile on your face had spoken true feelings when he'd proceeded to ask how you'd still been alive.  "We made up, actually." Jean's questioning expression had caused a chuckle from your lips, glancing over your shoulder to look over to Levi and his own friends. They'd been within the midst of a game of beer pong, and Levi had looked to be winning. 

"I'm gonna grab another drink, want one?" He'd asked, and you'd accepted, watching him disappear into the crowd of people near the fridge. Somewhere on the kitchen counter had been a bowl of punch, surrounded by other forms of liquor and drafts.  "Wanna join?" An unfamiliar voice had sent some concern over your spine, though when meeting with Erwin's blue gaze, you'd relaxed. His offer had taken you by surprise, but you'd accepted nonetheless, walking toward the table covered with plastic cups, Hange hunched over and attempting to concentrate as they clutched a small white ball between their fingers, eyes squinting before letting go. They missed, ball instead falling flatly before the lip of a cup, bouncing onto the wood and hitting carpet. 

"Got another player!" Erwin had announced, but before you'd been able to participate, you'd felt a cold and sticky liquid coat your side, dripping over your arm and hip. Mouth wide and brows raised, your gaze shot to the perpetrator - a sorry looking Jean.  "Fuck." He spoke, placing the cup down beside others on the table and reaching toward you, though hands falling short as he'd realised he didn't have the resources to clean the liquor from your shirt. So, he'd instead stood with arms out before him, fingers spread and expression questioning his own next move. "Come on, brat. I'll get you a shirt." 

Levi had moved from the other side of the table to beside you, fingers ghosting over the skin of your clean arm as he pointed toward the doorway.  "I'll get you another shirt." The explanation had aided with your confusion, and as he'd walked away you'd followed, a quick side eye to Jean's red cheeked face before going along with the black haired male. 

He'd taken you upstairs, walking past a few doors before entering one at the end of the hall. You'd questioned whether to follow or stay behind, but after a few moments you'd given up on the internal confliction and walked into the room. It had been neat, freshly dusted and vacuumed with a faint scent of vanilla in the air. The furniture had matched a black and white tone, a desk, bookshelf and bed, muted lighting emitting only from a lamp beside the plain coloured sheets. 

Levi had stood at his closet, another door in the wall with many neutral toned garments on hangers, drawers beneath. He'd pulled a navy turtleneck and handed it to you, eyes shifting from the cotton to your warmed cheeks. You'd realised upon taking it that Levi had currently worn what had looked to be the same turtleneck, only in black.  "You can change in the bathroom." He commented, a quick point toward an en-suite before crossing one arm over the other. 

When pulling Levi's shirt over your head, you were encompassed by a scent that had felt alien, yet comforting. The scent you'd understood to be Levi's, one of ceder-wood; faint hints of bergamot. Lacing fingers with the hem, you glanced in the mirror, a tightness in your chest when glancing over your own body in something Levi had owned. The smell had been somewhat intoxicating - an intrusive reminder of whom the article of clothing had belonged to. 

Before the events of that night, you hadn't spoken with Levi much, only when in the presence of Petra. She'd controlled most conversations and he'd allowed her to, quietly appreciating her, loving her. You'd admired him at a distance and until now you'd assumed the admiration to be due to his attentiveness as a partner - a form of jealousy. Though, with his t-shirt clinging to your skin, his scent lingering over your nose and your heart beating wildly against your rib-cage, you'd began to question how exactly you'd felt about the Ackerman. 

Had it been admiration, or had it been attraction? Maybe, being Petra's friend you'd misjudged the way you'd felt when watching him, the way he'd expressed when you had conversed, the similarity of your opinions. With the apology and sudden new-ground between you, you'd known the magnetism you'd felt toward him hadn't simply been that of acclaim or approbation for his being - it had felt as if your body had formed some sort of crush. Though, you chalked it down to alcohol, and a new-found acquaintanceship. 

Turning the lock and exiting the bathroom, you held the dirtied shirt between your fingers. Levi had waited atop his bed while you'd washed off the liquid and changed, standing with one arm outstretched when you'd walked toward the center of the room.  "I'll wash it." Levi spoke, fingers drifting over the fabric while awaiting your approval.  "You don't have to-"  "Please. It's an apology for being so rude to you. Plus, you couldn't get that stain out without my help." Levi hadn't needed to persuade you further, the shirt leaving your grasp and entering his own. 

"Do you talk to her anymore?" Levi spoke, your shifting body stopping to turn back and face him. "Petra, I mean." He gripped the shirt tightly, grey eyes locked onto yours. You shook your head.  "You?"  "No." Levi dropped his gaze, maneuvering to sit on the mattress once more. 

"Aren't you gonna come down?" You'd asked while watching him slouch, still clutching at the cotton in his hands. He didn't answer, and in turn you walked to his body, seating yourself beside him. "What is it?" You questioned, but again you'd been left without a reply. A few anxious moments within silence had altered your mind, sifting through various shallow conversational topics as if your brain had been a filing unit.  "Thinking about the most eventful seven minutes in heaven you've experienced?" 

The joke had left your lips before you'd processed the statement, your body being left to cringe at the odd utterance. Teeth clenching, you shook your head, balling fists before turning to face Levi. He'd been watching you, an expression of either amusement or annoyance - you couldn't tell the difference with him.  "Sorry, that was stupid-" The apology had begun, yet you hadn't been able to proceed as he'd taken over.  "We can try again." Levi had responded quickly, a flash of hope over his countenance as he'd allowed such a risky assertion past his lips. 

"What?" You'd questioned in disbelief as he'd taken the moments following to think, finally acting upon the impulse within his body. Whether it had been alcohol or a rush of adrenaline he hadn't been sure, but Levi took control when leaning toward you to place a kiss over your lips, pulling back to assess your reaction. He'd dropped your shirt to the floor, eyes widening and an expression of regret, though you hadn't allowed him to indulge within guilt as you'd closed the gap once more. 

With a longer kiss, you'd been able to feel the softness of his lips against yours. A hand brought to cheek had caressed over Levi's pale skin, smooth under fingertips. He'd had narrow and sharp features, all able to be felt beneath your touch, the jut of his jaw, the smallness of his lips. There had been a buzz in your core, one you were sure had been partially caused by liquor, though aided by anxiety and excitement. 

Your hand had slowly moved to cup at the back of his head several kisses into the encounter, undercut grazing your fingers. When introducing tongue and slipping fingers to sit between the locks at the back of his head, Levi had also allowed his hands to leave the sheets. A squeeze over your thigh, drifting to your hip. You'd given a light tug to the thick of his hair as a gesture for him to straddle you, and he'd taken the offer. 

Falling with back to the mattress, you spread your legs to accommodate his frame, arms caging either side of your torso as he pressed his chest to yours, lips still moving leisurely with your own. As tongues roamed one another, there had been an influx of drool, a sheen coating each of your mouths. Spit from both you and him now merging, a fluid representing both lust and attraction toward the other. Levi's hand had finally moved downward and allowed him to tug at your jeans, a question of furthering the actions taken between you. You'd obliged nonetheless, fidgeting to undo the button and slide denim from your legs. He'd pulled back to kneel, fingers squirming to unbuckle his belt and undo trousers, until both you and Levi had been equally undressed, only the thin cotton of underwear moderating exposure. 

 Levi leaned forward to reconnect with you once more, lips working against yours as his erection had been hard against your slit, though each body still caged within the final layer of clothing. A roll of his hips to yours had caused a moan to erupt from you, uncomfortable wetness desperately needing more friction. You pulled back, hands against his chest lightly pushing against him to allow space. He'd watched you breathlessly, gaze threatening to drop to the glossy lips he'd wanted to re-attach himself to, though restraining as he'd awaited your question. 

"How far do you want this to go?" Heat had risen through you when you'd asked, a small smile forming across Levi's lips, an exhale of amusement before he'd replied.  "All the way." Reply whispered against the skin of your neck, you'd arched your back, goosebumps prickling bare skin. Levi had taken the movement as an invitation to slip his hand beneath the arch, fingers hooking to the clasp of your bra and opening the garment. Pulling back, he'd looked to you for consent, only sliding straps over your arms after you'd given a reassuring nod. 

"Do you have condoms?" You'd almost choked when Levi had taken a nipple into his mouth, a moan originating deeply from your chest when he'd rolled his tongue over the bud, fingertips grazing over the other. 

He pulled back to reach to the bedside table, fumbling around before pulling out a foiled packet. Once extending the rubber, he'd taken the last step of pulling your panties from covering you, dragging them over your thighs, slowly over calves until your feet had slipped through. For a moment, Levi watched over you to admire your figure, though soon gave into temptation and lined himself up, a languid slide forward complimented by a hiss between his teeth.  "Fuck." Levi's curse had caused you to clench over him, a sigh from lips when he'd pushed deeper. "So tight." 

Once bottoming out, he drew back, picking a pace as he rocked forward. The stretch you'd felt between legs had felt good, head pressing back to the pillow beneath as you'd let out a whine. Levi placed his thumb to his tongue, a quick glob of spit coating the digit before he brought it forward to lay over your clit, rubbing circles over the nerve. You'd allowed a louder moan out, pleasure displayed through another arch of your back, eyes squeezing closed.  "Levi-" Speaking his name had only encouraged him further, rolling into you while groaning, watching your contorted expression through half lidded eyes. 

"Feel s' good." The praise had been slurred as your mind had been too focused on the sensations between your thighs to give a more coherent statement, lip catching between your teeth when he'd continued to rub over you. The build up was nearing an end, whines and gasps growing louder.  "Shh," Levi had whispered, slowing his pace and earning a disapproving groan. "Unless you want everyone else to hear me fucking you?" Levi's comment caused your stomach to churn, though you'd been adamant with the boom of music and the bustle on the floor below that no one would be able to distinguish your muted moans from the music - if they'd even been able to hear. 

"Gonna cum." Levi had gone a little faster after the statement, eyes locked onto your tensed face, only straying slightly to catch a glimpse of himself inside you.  "Cum on my cock." His instruction had aided in pushing you over the edge, a coil within your core finally snapping. In return, Levi had groaned, mouth agape as he felt himself loosen, finally letting go. With both coming undone in unison, the moment had felt euphoric, a mess of whines and skin slapping on skin, breath panting as you'd felt yourselves grounding once more. 

a/n: not really edited cuz i'm lazy, sorry !!

#levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman imagine #levi attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan levi smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #aot smut #aot levi x reader #attack on titan fic #snk smut #snk x reader #levi smut #levi x reader #levi x you #levi aot xmut #aot levi smut #levi x reader smut #ackerman x reader #ackerman smut

[imjustasimpxd]

My Angel (Part Two)

➬ Reiner Braun x Fem reader

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

Summary : Reiner was always taught that the devils of Paradis were vicious creatures, but what is he supposed to do when he soon finds himself reluctantly falling for one? Or when he is forced to go back to Marley and leave her altogether?

Word count : around 5, 200 words

Warnings : Again, very angsty. Reiner feels guilty about what he’s done, reader is angry with him. Crying, mentions of heartbreak. Spoilers for season 4 part one.

Author’s notes : reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on😊

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : this fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

❗️Important Note❗️

There will in fact be a part three! While I was writing part two, it ended up becoming so long that I just decided to split it up. That’s why this chapter leaves off on a cliffhanger (and that’s also why it took me so long to post this one). But I thank you all for your patience. If anyone else wants to be tagged for part three then let me know in the comments! :)))

“Can I please ask where exactly we’re going?” Reiner questioned, his voice lacing with a hint of annoyance as Falco gripped his arm, anxiously pulling him towards the city’s back alleys.

“I told you it’s a surprise! A friend of yours wants to say hi before the show starts!” Falco explained, glancing backward at his superior with a cheerful smile as he continued to pull him in the opposite direction.

“Is that right?” Reiner spoke sarcastically, scoffing quietly to himself as he took in the boy’s words.

What was Falco really up to?

Surely the whole “a friend wants to say hi” explanation was made up; because Reiner Braun wasn’t exactly a man you would think of as having friends.

Sure, he was surrounded by people a lot of the time, and he even had allies with whom he got along pretty well with. But even so, Reiner knew he was nothing more than a comrade to them; nothing more than a vessel to wield the armored titan.

But that was okay, because they were nothing more than comrades to him.

With being born Eldian as well as being a warrior for Marley’s military force, Reiner Braun didn’t exactly have the time, luxury, or frankly, the mental strength to seek out any social interactions beyond strictly work-related ones.

Well, at least, not anymore.

He made that mistake once, and in doing so, it cost him the demolition of a poor woman’s heart; as well as his own.

In fear that opening up to another person again might cause that beating vessel in his chest to truly see itself past repair, Reiner Braun had decided to close himself off from others, refusing to repeat those tragic events of his past.

So, with that in mind, who exactly was this “person” that Falco was happily dragging him by the arm to see?

It couldn’t have been anyone he was genuinely close with; there wasn’t anyone like that for him, not anymore at least. Any authentic connections he once had with people were now severed, collapsed by the calamity he caused back on that forsaken island.

So who on earth was he being forced to see?

“It’s just in here!” Falco said excitedly, his finger pointing toward a wooden door as they rounded the corner; one that lead to a basement stationed under an older apartment complex.

From the outside, the place looked dim and run down, its location secluded to a quiet and unfrequented street.

The very sight had Reiner scratching his head in confusion. Of all places, why here? Why pick such an isolated area to meet with him? Not only that, but why would this person send a naive little boy to escort him to this place instead of just contacting Reiner directly?

Was this a trap he was walking into?

Should he leave?

Like a flame set to brush, panic began spreading through Reiner’s veins. His free hand was gripped into a strained fist and his eyes darted in all directions, watching out for any surprise attacks.

If this really was a trap, if someone was anticipating charging at him, then he’d be ready for it.

Suddenly, the wooden door opened. Loud groans from the beat-down hinges filled the air, followed by the sound of footsteps; footsteps that belonged to a dark, hooded figure.

Reiner’s eyes widened at the scene before him, an eerie feeling twisting in his stomach as he watched the mysterious person walk out the door; heading in his direction.

Whoever it was, he thought about fighting them off, even going as far as raising both his hands in the air to assume a defensive stance.

However, that’s when he caught a glimpse of Falco next to him. The little boy had started to head towards the figure, almost as if he was acquainted with the human; if it even was human.

“Falco wait!” Reiner quickly followed in the boy’s footsteps, gripping his arm before he could walk any closer to the person. “We should leave.” He suggested, anxiously tugging on the boy’s limb in hopes to urge him back in the opposite direction.

“It’s okay Mr. Braun,” Falco smiled, quick to reassure his superior. “This is where he said to meet him.”

Who’s he? Was it that person lurking around with the cloak draped across their face? Or was there someone inside as well?

Reiner didn’t have any answers, nor did he have a definite resolve on how to react in this situation. Should he trust Falco’s judgment and allow this “meetup” to happen? Or should he grab the boy and run while he still had the chance?

The latter seemed like the best option, especially considering the fact that Falco was just a child, and therefore could’ve easily been manipulated into something dangerous.

He wanted to trust Falco’s words, but it was too risky. If something happened, the boy’s blood would be on Reiner’s hands; and he couldn’t bear the weight of any more sorrow, or any more guilt.

“We’re leaving, Falco!” Reiner insisted, readjusting his grip on the boy’s arm to forcefully pull him away from the situation.

Although, just as he’d turned around to take those first few steps, he heard something that made his body freeze, and his heart clench.

“If you’re done arguing you can go on ahead. He’s waiting for you inside.”

That voice. Reiner knew that voice.

It was the same one he used to hear nagging at him to wake up in the early mornings. The same voice that used to comfort him whenever he was feeling disheartened.

It was… the same voice he never thought he’d have the pleasure of hearing ever again…

All he received was one simple sentence, but that was all the verification he needed. There was no doubt in his mind, the voice he heard: belonged to you.

“Y/n?!” His body immediately turned around to face the hooded figure. His eyes then squinted, trying to see more than just the gentle silhouette of a pair of lips and a jawline that was exposed by the moonlight’s glow.

The figure froze at his words, saying nothing in response; almost as if they didn’t anticipate being recognized.

“Y/n, is that you?” Reiner asked again, hoping to earn a response this time.

However, there was none; at least, not a verbal one.

All he gained was a sudden flinch that occurred once he spoke that name a second time, followed by the subtle shaking of fingertips that poked out from the sleeves of the cloak.

You must’ve been scared, embarrassed; perhaps even both.

And who would blame you for it? The last time you saw him he had slaughtered more than half of your comrades. Who knows what he’s capable of now after four years have passed?

“Falco?” Reiner finally broke the silence, glancing down at the boy he was still holding on to. “Why don’t you go on inside, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

However, before the boy could open his mouth to speak, he was quickly interrupted. “There’s no reason for him to leave! I’m not staying to chat.” A stern voice echoed past the cloak covering your face, but that didn’t phase Reiner.

He knew it was you from the moment that first syllable left your lips, even more so now that you’d spoken a second time.

Your tone was serious, added with a hint of aggression in order to scare him off, but he wouldn’t be turned away by that. Not when this was the chance he’d been silently praying for ever since he left that island four years ago. The chance to finally see you once again, even for just a moment.

Now that this chance was finally here, standing in front of him, there was no way he’d let it slip away; regardless of the tone you used with him.

“Just a few minutes?!” He insisted, taking a few steps forward in case you were preparing to run away. “Please?” He asked in a much quieter tone, his eyes practically begging for you to give in, to grant him even the smallest portion of your time.

Even after all these years he still knew how to persuade you, didn’t he? He must’ve, otherwise, your mouth would’ve never opened to let out a frustrated “Five minutes and that’s it!”

Reiner’s shoulders quickly relaxed at your words. His head then turned towards Falco subsequently, giving him a quick nod of his head: which apparently was his signal to “get going.”

Falco’s gaze switched between Reiner and the person he was apparently dying to speak to. The boy was unsure of what was going on, or who that unidentified person even was, but nevertheless, Falco knew better than to argue with his superior; so he’d comply with the orders given to him.

“S-sure…I’ll just, be inside then…” Falco spoke hesitantly, slowly backing away to walk toward the wooden door. He stopped momentarily after placing his fingers on the handle, almost as if he was waiting for Reiner to change his mind. But after receiving no signs of a change of heart, Falco reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside; closing it behind him.

The moment that wooden door shut, an unpleasant silence filled the air. Instead of partaking in the “conversation” you were supposed to have, the two of you just stood in silence.

You didn’t dare speak up. Reiner was the one who made you stay after all, if anyone should be the first to start this conversation it was him.

Your eyes were fixated on him with a calloused glare, your lips refusing to part even the slightest bit.

Reiner on the other hand, wore an expression more timid and anxious than yours.

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, fingers fidgeting with each other as he contemplated the best way to start this conversation.

“I uh…” He tried to speak, but the words fumbled in his mouth, leaving just as quickly as they came.

It’s ironic, just a moment ago he was begging for you to stay so that he could have the chance to talk to you, but now that his chance had finally arrived, he couldn’t think of anything to say.

As he stood there, overanalyzing a potential response, he noticed the way you scoffed, clearly annoyed at his delay in response.

You were growing impatient with him, and if he didn’t take the opportunity to speak with you now, you’d most likely never allow him another chance to waste your time again.

So, after what had seemed like hours of silence, when in reality was more like 1 minute, Reiner finally spoke up.

“Can you take off the hood?”

Your eyes quickly narrowed in confusion at his odd request. Out of everything he could’ve asked, everything he could’ve apologized for, this is the first thing he says?

“Why?” You questioned, still unsure of his intentions on the matter.

“I just…” He began, but his words quickly started to fade out, almost as if he felt unworthy to be asking in the first place.

Nevertheless, you were persistent.

“You just what?!” You snapped, frustrated at his apparent dedication to withhold information from you; a recurring dedication at that.

“I just…” he inhaled shakily before speaking, “I want to see your face.”

You paused at his words, taking a moment to process what he’d just said. After expecting something pitiful, or perhaps even bitter coming from him, it was quite a shock to receive this: a fairly tender request.

He wanted to see your face? Why? What difference would that make?

It’d be the same one he saw four years ago, nothing’s changed; at least, not to you.

Despite asking for something which would require him to look upwards, Reiner kept his eyes glued to the ground, as if he felt undeserving to see you again. It wasn’t until he heard the heavy sigh that jerked past your lips, along with the quiet “fine” you gave in response to his request that made him finally look up.

As his gaze lifted, watching you pull that gloomy hood off your head, Reiner was met with a flashback of memories.

It all reappeared in an instant: the sound of your adorable laugh, the way your hair looked when the sun glistened across it, even the small little habits he’d discovered about you as time went by; they were all coming back, recollecting in his mind clearer than if it all happened a day ago.

Reminding him, painfully, of a time when things were simpler, when he was happier, and, most regretfully, a time when he had you.

Pulling off that hood allowed him to finally lay eyes upon a face he hadn’t seen in ages. A face he used to watch soundly sleeping next to him at night, placing gentle kisses all over when no one was around.

It was the same face he used to stare at in fascination; taken back by the beautiful way your lips would curve upwards into a smile, or even the way your eyes radiated the most alluring shade of color when the sun shone across your skin.

That face was one he had desperately longed to observe once more for the entirety of four long years, and coincidentally, it was the same face that now stared him down with an irritated glare.

Absent was the sparkle your eyes once held for the man standing before you, and gone was the loving countenance you were never hesitant to grant him.

Now your face lay still, your features refusing to move even the smallest bit in case it were to form some sort of pleasant expression towards him accidentally.

Who was this woman?

If not for the fact that he had easily identified her face, Reiner wouldn’t have recognized her.

Where was the kind and loving woman he fell in love with? Was she not the one standing before him now?

No, this woman was different. This one seemed to hold an inkling of abhorrence towards him, easily provoked by just his presence alone.

Was this… the product of his own making?

Was this… what he’d turned you into?

As if he wasn’t tormented enough by his decision, now he was witnessing the consequences of his actions unfold before his very eyes.

“How.. how are you here?” Reiner stuttered, still in shock over the fact that you were actually standing there; that for whatever reason, his prayers to see you again had finally been answered.

“I’m only here in service of a friend; nothing else.”

Your response was so vague, so cold; nothing like the endearing way you used to speak to him.

“Which friend?”

“It doesn’t matter,” You replied forbiddingly. Your tone sounded so distant, so unfriendly towards him.

To think, the last time he heard your voice, it had told him “Goodnight, I love you.” But now that voice was harsh as it spoke, probably regretful of saying those very words after waking up to find out he’d abandoned you that next morning.

The difference in your tone was beginning to eat away at Reiner, straining that beating vessel in his chest more and more with each look of your indignant expression. As if you’d just picked up a shovel and started digging, deepening his guilt further than it already was; if that was even possible.

“Your minutes are up by the way, and I have to leave.” You suddenly spoke, hoping your statement was bleak enough to end the conversation, meaning you could finally leave; finally be free of him.

“Wait!” Just before you could escape, Reiner quickly reached forward and grabbed your wrist, clinging to it as if his life was hinging on it. “Wait please, don’t leave…”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He deserved that. Honestly, he deserved more than that.

Call him whatever names you could think of, and he would let you, he’d allow every single one of them, no matter how excruciating, because he knew they were true; because deep down he knew he deserved them.

“I’m not interested in what you have to say, Reiner.” Your words were like knives to his heart, causing the already aching organ to shudder yet again. “Whatever it is you should’ve said it four years ago.”

Was that true?

If he really did explain it to you before he left, would things be different now? Would you have understood his situation? Understood why he had to do it?

Why he had to leave?

“Please,” he implored, desperately maintaining that grip on your wrist. “Please, just let me explain it to you.”

It was pathetic, how he was begging like this, pleading for you to stay and hear him out as if he wasn’t the one that left you in the first place.

“Nothing you say will change what happened.”

He knew that was true, but in spite of that, he still refused to let you go again without telling you, without apologizing at the very least.

“I know,” he admitted, a glossy haze shimmering in his eyes as he looked at you. “But please, I want you to know the truth.”

A part of you wanted to leave, to deny him any further chances to cause you more pain with an explanation. However, another part of you wanted an apology. You wanted to hear his side of the story; to hear whatever excuse he had for abandoning you. No matter how twisted, or pitiful, his reasoning was, you couldn’t deny you had questions you wanted him to answer.

“Fine then. Tell me.” You quickly adjusted your posture, staring at him with your eyebrows raised; a gesture he remembered you only used when you were serious about something.

“Why did you betray us?”

Here it was, the moment he had been waiting for since this conflict arose: his chance to finally be understood, to be seen as more than just the traitor he was made out to be.

“I was given orders,” he started, retracting his hand from your wrist now that you’d clearly abandoned the option to run. “I had no choice but to follow them.”

“And what were your orders?” Your voice sounded heavy, almost as if it was hurting to bring all this back up again; like a wound that was still fresh, still desperately trying to heal itself.

Reiner’s mouth remained shut, his head lowering as he closed his eyes, not wanting to answer your question. He knew he’d be made to look like the villain no matter what he said, no matter which way he worded it.

Did that mean he really was the villain?

In your eyes, maybe.

Perhaps you’d never accept his side of the story, never be able to see past the wretched sins he’d carried out. But regardless, even if he never got the forgiveness he so desperately wanted from you, he couldn’t hide from the truth any longer. It was time to embrace it, all of it.

“They told us to sneak in and make allies first, that way we had the people’s trust and no one would suspect us.” He sighed, his eyes refusing to look up at you in fear of the face you’d make upon hearing his confession. “Once the time came, we were ordered to steal the founding titan by whatever means necessary. And if anyone tried to stop us, we had permission to silence them, using whatever tactics we deemed fit.”

Reiner’s heart felt tight as he let those words out, his shame growing stronger now that he was remembering it all, remembering what he’d done.

How did things end up like this?

He was just trying to do what he was trained to do: save the world from ruin; that’s all. But here he was now, that mission an embarrassing failure as he reminisced on his actions; the same actions that caused such sorrow for so many people, including himself.

And as if things weren’t bad enough, as if Reiner wasn’t feeling guilty already, he heard a sudden change in your breathing that could only mean one thing: you were beginning to cry.

“No, wait!” His head quickly lifted to look at you, instantly regretting it as your distressed face came into view. “Please, don’t cry.” He begged, using his thumb to wipe away the liquid collecting on your skin; which you surprisingly allowed him to do without putting up a fight.

“Don’t cry, okay? Not for me.” He demanded, despite his own eyes welling up with tears as well.

He just couldn’t bear it, knowing he was hurting you yet again.

It was almost as if nothing had changed, even after all those years. As if he was reliving those horrors of his past once more, reliving that anguish he saw imprinted across your visage when you found out he was the armored titan; the same armored titan that had killed so many of your friends.

You didn’t understand it, even now.

Was the man who used to dote on you really the same person as the one who carried out such violence and hatred against your people?

How could that be true? How could he have done such a thing, committed such betrayal against the woman he loved?

What changed? Was it something you did?

Or perhaps a more gut-wrenching explanation: he never loved you to begin with. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to give you up, maybe, this was his plan all along.

“What else?” You asked, your voice trembling in the process.

Reiner’s face quickly scrunched in confusion, unsure of what you were getting at. “What do you mean?”

“Were those your only orders?” Tears quickly began trickling down your face faster than Reiner could stop, your gaze looking more despondent than ever. “Was there really not anything else?” Your lips parted to let out a stinging sob, one that seemed like it’d been held in for too long.

It was obvious you were waiting for some sort of answer from him, and every second he delayed with a response was only tormenting you further.

But, even so, it didn’t change the fact that Reiner didn’t understand what you were asking of him; or what you wanted to hear so badly.

Your eyes stared at him in sorrow, more tears absorbing into your skin before you asked your question one last time; phrasing it differently now.

“Was falling in love with me a part of your mission too? Was I just another means to accomplish your end goal?”

Reiner’s heart convulsed at your words, his mouth agape to let out a pained gasp.

Did he just hear that right?

A tool?! Is that really what you thought? Is that really all you assumed you were worth to him?

As if you could ever be such a thing.

Granted, he understood how you may have assumed that, given the matter of his betrayal and all. But, despite that, he never expected such an absurd accusation.

There was a wide range of names you could’ve called him: a traitor, a liar, a monster; anything, and he would’ve accepted it; He would’ve owned up to it.

But this: questioning whether or not his affection towards you was genuine; that was one accusation he’d never admit to.

You were never a tool, you weren’t even a part of his plan to begin with. Falling in love with a woman of Paradis wasn’t exactly one of the orders he received when he was assigned to that mission. In fact, getting involved with you went against the sole purpose of him being there; the sole purpose of his assignment.

He was sent there to exterminate the Eldian race, to wipe out every last one of those despicable beings so that the world could finally be safe.

Falling in love wasn’t an order laid out in his job description at all, much less with a woman of Paradis. And yet, he did.

Reiner was a strategic man, he wasn’t one to easily abandon orders, no matter how difficult they may be. That in itself should’ve been enough to prove his affection toward you; because he never would’ve done such a thing had he not felt it was worth it, had he not felt you were worth it.

Nevertheless, here you were, teeth gritted in frustration as you impatiently awaited his answer.

Your face spoke only of torment, and it pained Reiner to have to witness it. The way your eyes were slanting together in an unsuccessful attempt to subdue your tears, your fingers curling into fists to help better contain your irritation, all of it was a clear sign of the repercussions his decision to abandon the woman he loved had caused.

It was just like the last time, you were falling to pieces over him once more, and Reiner couldn’t stand the sight of it.

Your gentle cries may not have been as loud and mournful as they were four years ago, but it didn’t matter; the fact that you were even crying in the first place was enough to make that twisting sensation return to his stomach; possibly becoming permanent at this rate.

Reiner stretched his arm out to grasp your hand, hoping to console you, however, you quickly backed away, refusing to let him touch you.

“I don’t want your pity!” you spat, your fragile body trembling from both the anger and suffering fueling inside. “I just want the truth! Did you ever love me?”

Was that even a question?

Yes, he was fully aware that it would’ve been hard to believe the authenticity of someone who’d abandoned you; someone who so easily decided to turn against you, as if doing so didn’t phase them in the slightest.

But regardless, ignoring the heinous crimes he’d committed, did you still believe he never loved you?

Were his actions before this messy conflict never enough to convince you of his sentiments?

What about all the times he’d hold you in his arms, whispering to you about how happy you made him feel? Did you really not believe any of that? Was he pouring out his heart’s inner-most secrets for nothing?

Or what about the times he’d surprise you with food, despite rations being low? He almost got caught stealing food for you so many times; which was unwise of him considering the fact that it could’ve possibly had him kicked out of the survey corps: meaning his whole plan to infiltrate the military would’ve gone up in flames.

Or, perhaps how he’d always try to keep an eye on you during missions, making sure you never encountered something too dangerous for you to handle. You always complained that he was being too paranoid, but it was only because, unlike you, he was aware of the kind of power titans held; the kind of pain they could’ve, he could’ve, inflicted upon a tiny human being.

All he ever wanted was to protect you, to do what was best for you. Did you really never realize that?

Even after he made Annie and Bertholdt promise not to lay a hand on you during their countless fights with the survey corps, even after all the times he put your saftey before his own mission, was it still never enough?

Even when he left you behind, did you really never consider the fact that he could’ve been doing it because he thought it’s what’s best for you?

You would’ve never been safe with someone like him, so he spared you from that danger by leaving.

Even though he caused you much pain by doing so, did you still never put that together?

“I understand if you don’t believe me when I say this,” Reiner began, “But I never stopped loving you.”

Even before any words left your lips, the doubtful look stringing along your face was enough to tell Reiner that you didn’t believe him; or were highly skeptical at the very least.

“If that’s true, then why wasn’t that enough for you to stay?”

He’d asked himself the same question so many times before. Why didn’t he just give up on his mission and stay with you? It’s not like he wouldn’t have preferred that option in comparison to the one he chose.

Why didn’t he just let the Marleyans presume him dead, forgetting his life in Marley and starting a new one with you on Paradis?

He wanted to, he considered it even. But there was one factor he was forgetting that made all the difference; one tiny reminder that convinced him to abandon that option in the end: you deserved better.

If he stayed behind like you would’ve wanted him to, like he would’ve wanted to, then he would’ve been living a lie; deception would’ve been rooted at the heart of your relationship.

He would’ve never been able to fully open up to you because doing so would mean he told you the truth about his past, about where he’s from and why he came here in the first place. He’d have to fabricate every detail about his life up until this point; tricking you into believing he was born inside the walls just like you. He’d need to have an excuse for everything: why his parents weren’t around, where he was born, what his home life was like, everything.

Nothing about his life would be real anymore, from the moment he’d wake up, to the second he drifted off to sleep at night, he’d be living a lie.

Every time he’d look at your innocent expression he’d be reminded of the secrets he was keeping from you, the lies he was tricking you with; and he couldn’t live like that. He refused to live like that.

“Staying would’ve only put you in danger, so I left, taking the danger with me.”

“I see.” Your voice was strained, as if you were having trouble processing everything. The shock from seeing him again so unexpectedly still hadn’t exactly worn off yet, and with the addition of all this new information piled on top, you didn’t necessarily know what to say; or how to react.

So, instead, you remained silent, hoping some ideas might materialize inside your head as you waited.

However, you weren’t kept waiting for long because Reiner quickly took an initiative to speak once again, asking something that left you stunned,

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Your head quickly flung upwards to look at him, contemplating whether or not you heard him right.

“What??” You asked, aghastly, desperately hoping you misheard his question.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” He repeated, unfortunately proving that your ears were working just fine, and that you did in fact hear him correctly the first time.

He only meant it as a farewell, nothing more.

He knew this might very well be the last time he ever saw you again, so, with that in mind, he wanted to leave you with something pleasant to remember him by.

He had every intention of letting you go, he’d walk away and you’d never have to see him again afterward.

Just one last memory with you, that’s all he wanted. One last moment to reminisce on the merriment of his past before he let you go for good.

That’s what he wanted at least, but, when you finally uttered a response, he realized it might’ve been too much to ask for.

“I’m with someone else now, Reiner.”

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

(YES THERE WILL BE A PART THREE. So comment below if you want to be tagged).

Tags : @thebadbatch @mvteria @nervouslad @ah-finally @usagikookiejams

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[lizhrs]

Could you do a high school bullies version with Levi, Eren, or Jean pls?

a/n: I was going to make high school bully levi but the thought of captain levi being an immature tyrant towards poor cadet y/n was too good to ignore so my bad

warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, physical abuse

EREN + JEAN

They rule the school halls. Everyone sees them as the perfect duo. Guys try desperately to be them, girls want to be under them and even teachers will do anything to appease them.

It's nauseating, the contrast of how everyone views them versus how you see them. The way you know they are. They're not godly saints, or this generation's future with their good looks and charms. No they're something that follows you constantly, haunts you and pushes you to limits you didn't even know existed.

They're tyrants.

Always pushing and pulling and dragging you every which way like a rag doll. Knocking you into the walls, stealing your lunch money and homework like a bunch of children. Standing over you every chance they get, like they're entitled to every aspect of your life.

Take now for example, Eren is leaning against your shoulder, hands clenching the back of your chair as he stares at your phone.

You're usually more aware of your surroundings, unfortunately due to the many years of hell he and lackey have put you through but you were too engrossed in your texting to hear his booming footsteps making their way towards you. "Who are you texting?" He asks causally, hot air hitting your shoulder.

Your fingers clench around your small device, remembering the last time he saw something on your phone he didn't like, how he smashed the small object into a million pieces. It took you nearly a year to save up money for a new one. "No one."

He's taking it out of your hand before you can stop it, not that you had the guts to anyway. "You're going to a party tonight?" He hums, shamelessly reading your messages. "That's very new of you." He smirks.

"Give it back." You mutter, hating how weak you sound.

"How can you do my homework if you're gonna spend the night partying like a loose slut?"

Your cringe at the words. "I have the entire weekend to do it..."

He stares into you, those strikingly icy eyes that have been the cause of too many nightmares to count digging into your soul. "I should go with you, just to keep you on your feet."

"W-what? No!"

It's your friend's party. He graduated a few months ago and invited you to a college kegger and usually you would've said no but after the horrible week you've been through, getting drunk was a great way to start your weekend. It's out of town so you would've been away from Eren for a few hours which is all you can ask for.

"I don't remember asking." He's typing. Probably texting himself the address on your phone like the prick he is.

You grab the device before you can think, snatching it away. "You're not going, don't you harass me enough?" You grab your bag, quickly walking away from the table before he can make you regret your actions but of course you don't make it very far.

You slam into a chest and the way hair instantly rises on your skin tells you immediately who it is. Your hands dig into the strap of your backpack as you slowly look up, Jean's taunting eyes stare back at you. "Are you already running away from us babe?" He coos. "The day has just ended."

Of course, you should've known. They spent the entire school day ignoring you, a usual sign they're going to make up for it once that final bell rings. You should've just ran home instead of cooping up in this library.

"J-just let me—" Fingers are grabbing your hair from behind, yanking and pushing you into the wall. You wince as your shoulder hits it, hoping the librarian will come back from her break soon...not that she would do anything to help.

"You don't tell us what to do y/n. You should know this by now." Eren smiles as Jean slings an arm around his shoulder, both laughing as if this situation is hysterical.

"I-I'll do your homework Eren, just let me—"

He rolls his eyes. In front of you in a flash as he pushes his knee between your thighs. Your eyes widen at his brazen actions, instantly squirming to get out of his grip. He's been brass before, touching and teasing you as he pleases but you never get used to it. You doubt it's something anyone can really get used to. His palm rests on the space next to your head, breath fanning over your lips due to how close he is.

"You talk way too much." His finger slowly trails down your cheek before softly gripping your chin. You crane your neck to the side, cringing at his callous fingers touching you, digging into your uniform.

Jean's closer too, hands in his pocket as he watches the scene in front of him, always having that mischievous grin on his face whenever Eren plays with their favorite toy.

It's sickening.

"You can do that later pretty, right now we need your full attention." Jean whispers in your ear. "Can you do that for us?"

They follow you home.

Both walk behind you like a pair of pesky mutts, laughing and talking to each other as they watch you grip your books to your chest, trying not to have a full blown panic attack as you get closer to where you live.

You reach the trailer in the next thirty seconds, swallowing a lump in your throat as you look back at them. "G-goodbye."

Jean laughs, throwing his head back. "You think we came all the way here just to leave?"

Your teeth dig into your cheek, tearing it a little bit. The pain is nothing compared to the knots twisting in your stomach right now. "W-what, you can't come in." You whisper, knowing it's futile.

No one would help even if you screamed bloody murder. Your trailer is inconveniently parked in a neighborhood that could care less about others, too busy trying to pay bills and not starve. And they know that. They know your mother won't be home until midnight due to picking up double shifts at the diner and even then, she could spend the night at her boyfriends. They know everything about you and it's frustrating.

"You can't come in." You say again, seeing the looks on their faces. You turn around, running towards the trailer and opening the door.

Eren is behind you just as you're about to slam it shut, palm slamming against the door as he pushes it open. "You are so dramatic." He rolls his eyes, stepping in.

He grimaces at the dirt on his palm."Jesus, y/n would it kill you to clean every once in a while?" He wipes the grim on your uniform, hands shamelessly touching your breasts.

You gasp, taking a step back. Jean walks in, closing the door behind him. He snorts as he looks around. "The inside is just as shitty as the outside."

They've walked you home numerous times, taunting and harassing you every second of the walk. But they've never gone inside of your house...the fact you're alone with these psychos is settling in, tears gathering in your eyes. "What do you guys want?"

"Can't we just hang out? We have been friends for years after all."

Friends.

The turmoil in your head and bruises littering your skin beg to differ.

"You have any food?" Jean is opening your fridge before you can say anything. Thankfully, it's empty. It would be worse if the asshole ate the scarce food your mother leaves every blue moon.

"How can you live like this y/n?" Eren asks, tsking at the stray gallon of milk in the fridge. "You should be happy you have us."

"Happy?" You scoff.

"Here we are, walking you home to this pigsty of a neighborhood so you don't get hurt and all you can do is stare at us like that." He feigns hurt, hand over his chest. "It really stings."

"You're delusional." You want to walk to your room, take a nap and forget about this horrible day but to turn your back on them for even a second is a disaster waiting to happen.

"When's the party starting?" Jean asks, sitting on a stool.

Of course he told him.

"I'm not going anymore. So you guys can leave now."

"Of course we're going. Our first party together." Eren plops down on the couch. "Come watch a movie with us, pet."

You roll your eyes but grudgingly walk over, fearing for what will happen if you refuse. You sit as far away from him as possible, nails digging into your thighs as he turns on the television.

Jean unexpectedly sits next to you, startling you as your shoulders touch. You quickly scoot away which just puts you closer to Eren. You're trapped.

"Didn't know you liked me so much?" Eren chuckles, swinging an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer.

"Don't touch me!" You scream, voice shocking you more than them. Your palms are bleeding now, small cuts now visible. Your eyes widen, frantically shaking your head as you try and force out an apology.

But it's too late.

The patience he's uncharacteristically had for you all day has finally vanished as he grabs your chin, harshly forcing you to look into those dark eyes. His flip in personality is eerie, one minute a playful bully and the next resembling a full-blown sociopath.

"Why are you being so mean y/n?" He sighs, nails digging into your chin. You cry out, tears falling onto your thighs.

"I'm s-sorry." You hiccuped, shaking at the change in the atmosphere. Things always got worse when he was angry, even Jean couldn't control the brunette when he was in one of his fits and you couldn't handle that tonight.

"It's okay." He smiles, after a few seconds of silence. You blink through the tears, confusion evident in your eyes but his lips are on yours before you can question anything.

You gasp at the action, his hand softly resting against your throat as he pushes you back against the couch, lips devouring yours. What?

He's never...ever kissed you before. You can handle the insults and the hits and the unwanted touches but this is a whole new territory. You shake your head, attempting to get away but Jean holds your wrist down like the loyal pet he is. "Calm down, we're not going to hurt you." He says like that is any comfort with the way Eren's lips are trailing down your neck.

"Jean...please." You plead, trembling. You don't know why you did, maybe because a part of you knows he's not as brazen as Eren, as deranged. But he would still do anything the other asked of him.

"Fuck, you're so hot when you beg." Eren pulls away, sharp canines grinning at the sight of you.

He's called you many things but that has certainly never been one of them.

His fingers slowly go under your skirt, eliciting another scream from you. “Stop Eren! You’re fucking crazy!”

He kneels down. “After everything you’ve done to me, this is the least you can offer me y/n.”

“Done to you? I haven’t done anything to you!”

“Of course you have.” His hand grips your thigh. “From fucking day one when I saw you on that playground with that pathetic tattered dress. You were so dirty, like a fucking dog and somehow.” He laughs mirthlessly. “Thought you were better than me.”

You sob as his fingers latch around the ribbon on your underwear, pulling and tearing the cheap fabric in half. “I never—never did that.” You cry, trying to kick him away.

“Of course you did.” He counters. “Smiling at everyone but me, being friendly with nearly every loser in our class but me. Acting as if I was some monster.”

“You are.” You grit through your teeth, glaring at him. “You’ve always been the pathetic one here Eren. You think you’re so much better than everyone when in reality you’re the worst of them all.” You sniff.

He hums, spreading your thighs apart and pulling you closer. “I am better than everyone, love.” Is all he says before a hot, eager tongue drags along your slit.

The severity of this situation dawns on you as more sobs leave your lips. You’re stuck in here with them with no one to care about your weak protests and screams. These bastards can do anything to you and no one cares.

“I hate you!” You kick and writhe and struggle but both of their strong hands hold you down.

This only seems to spur him on as he sucks at your sensitive clit, lapping up the mess he’s making of you. The shame is almost too much to handle as you drip onto the cushions, nails digging into the sofa as you try and hold in the noises that are begging to be let out.

He’s merciless. The pleasure is aggressive as he drinks you down like a mad man, stretching you open with his tongue as his finger thumbs at your clit. You couldn’t help as your hips followed the movement of his tongue, lifting up and down the couch as you tried to contain the shameful pleasure brimming inside of you. He was finding new places to abuse, places you’ve never even thought of touching and it was driving you insane.

“Eren…” You moan, instantly biting down on your tongue.

He laughs, pulling away only to replace his tongue with two fingers. “Ah!” You arch your head into the sofa as he curls them, coating them in slick. He scissors them inside of you all while his thumb is rubbing harshly against your clit. It’s too much, your body reacting to his ministrations no matter how much you don’t want it to. The aching fire in your core grows and grows until you’re heaving, tears streaming down your cheeks and it’s not long until you’re releasing all over his fingers and onto the cushions.

He pulls away, standing up as he looks down at his fingers, a malicious grin on his face. “You’re so fucking cute.” He whispers, staring at you with a look you’ve never seen in those eyes before. Like you’re a priceless treasure, like you’re his. He looks completely infatuated, obsessed.

You cringe as he brings the fingers closer to your face. “Lick it off.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Fuck you.” The tears are still falling and you wonder how long until you pass out from the amount of crying you’ve been doing all day.

He rolls his eyes, forcing his fingers into your mouth and making you taste yourself. You cringe, instantly pulling away. “Get off!”

He stares at you like this is a simple tantrum and you need to be disciplined, like he didn’t just assault you. He’s about to say something but the ringing of his phone thankfully saves him. He sighs, staring at the device before groaning and walking away. “I’ll be back.” He disappears down the hallway.

Further inside your house.

You sniff, wiping the tears away and closing your legs. You can barely breathe. Jean finally speaks up, voice sounding like nails on a board. “It was probably important. To have him run off like that.” He says casually.

You don’t say anything. Eyes staring at nothing as you try and process what just happened…what will probably happen next. “Why are you doing this to me…” You whisper.

Jean is silent for a minute before sighing. “Because Eren always gets what he wants. And he’s wanted you for a long time.” He doesn’t sound all too happy about those supposed facts.

You clench your jaw. You’re expected to believe all these years of bullying was due to you never returning Eren’s feelings? Feelings he never made clear in the first place. You were terrified of him when you saw the other for the first time. He was brash and rude and loud, everything you hated and even then you tried to be friendly with him, no matter how insincere you were. Why is he acting like you kicked sand in his lunch box?

“I hate you both.” You grit through teeth. You ponder if you can run out the door fast enough but even then…they would find you the next day and the punishment would probably be worse.

“You seemed to be enjoying that.”

“Fuck off.”

Jean gets closer, tilting his head to get a better view of you. “You say you hate him but it didn’t seem like that. It never seemed like that.”

“W-what?”

“You were always attracted to him, weren’t you? Just too afraid to ever do something about it…you’ve never looked at me the way you look at him.” He mutters, like you’ve done him some great injustice. “Not even once.”

“Don’t worry, I hate you both equally.” You finally muster the words up. Especially after tonight.

Jean huffs as he grabs your wrist to which you immediately pull away as if he burned you and the action is enough to have clenching his jaw, eyes darkening. “I’ve been so patient.” He murmurs, the words almost sounding like a plea.

“So patient with you and him but he…” He runs his fingers through his hair. “He wasn’t supposed to do that. At least not yet.”

You back away, trying to stand on your shaking legs but he grabs you. “It was supposed to be me. It’s supposed to be only me who gets to make you feel that way y/n.” He stands up, hands clenched into fists.

“You were supposed to be mine only.”

The words only make you nauseous. You were wrong, they’re both equally insane, equally deranged. You need to get out of here, need to go to the police and have them both locked up for their sick perversions.

Footsteps have you both tensing up, slowly looking towards the hallway to see Eren coming back. He laughs, shoulders shaking as he walks over. He doesn’t look angry but then again, he can switch his emotions in a second.

Jean looks almost scared, not bothering to say anything even as Eren mockingly pinches his cheek. “Jean, don’t be so selfish.” He puts an arm around his shoulder, leering at you. Both looking like sick predators.

“We can always share her.”

LEVI

Life in the Survey Corps is disastrous enough without constant berating and belittling from someone who's supposed to be encouraging you.

And if not encouragement, then at least not outright bullying from the Captain.

You don't know what it is but from day one, he's held a strong sense of...well you don't want to say hatred but as the weeks go by of your training, it seems like he would rather have you six feet under than learning from him.

From the moment he saw your expensive clothing and fancy shoes, he had decided then and there you were a no good rich girl who only wanted to join because of some half assed rebellion you were having. And that pissed you off. You didn't join because you wanted to rebel against your parents nor because of guilt of having more luxurious amenities than your fellow cadets. You wanted to fight for your home and people.

But he had made up his mind about you and well fine, you could live with him not respecting you but to go out of his way every time his demeaning eyes landed on you was proving to be too much.

Take now for example.

Back in your prestigious academy, you were top of your class, being graced with renowned resources that your fellow Outer Wall cadets have never even heard of but here it seems you were a fish out of water. Especially with him staring at you like you were nothing but dirt under his shoes.

To be skilled at 3DMG you needed flexibility, a sense of determination. Boldness you simply don't have when Levi is standing a few feet away from you, already having made up his mind that you suck at this before you even get into the gear.

But it seems he was right as you struggle to remember the demonstrations shown to you just a few minutes ago. You kick and lash and thrash around but your limbs never find the hold they're looking for. It's fucking embarrassing, made even worse as yells from the crowd now formed around you increase. "Center your core!" Krista yells, trying to help but only making the humiliation worse.

You're upside down now, panting as you try to catch your breath. It's pointless. You groan, what is he even doing here? Since when does he train the students in 3DMG? You bite your tongue at the fact the reason he suddenly decided he wasn't above this is because he knew it would be your first day on this field and he couldn't pass up an opportunity to see you fail.

How did she even get into this Rank?

She's bringing us down.

Her daddy probably paid someone off.

You can hear all different kinds of demeaning whispers from the crowd, from people who are supposed to be your comrades. Levi finally speaks, taking a break from staring at you with that blank expression that you just know is hiding a look of disgust. "Everyone back inside." He demands, arms crossed over his chest.

"But we're not done yet!" Ymir scoffs, glaring at you.

"We are if I say we are." He tsks. "Annoying brat." He mutters under his breath before walking over to you.

It's hard to get away when you're stuck upside down but that doesn't stop the hairs from rising on your skin, anxiety threatening to eat away at you as he walks closer and your comrades walk away. Leaving you fully in his mercy.

Just fucking great.

He's dropping you from the gear in a flash and you ungracefully land on your hands and knees, winching at the hard contact you make with the grass underneath you. You quickly stand up, not wanting to give him the satisfaction but you can already see the corner of his lip twitching.

"You are truly a disgrace, y/n." He mutters.

You say nothing, knowing it will only make matters worse as he stares at you. You ignore the dread in your stomach as he stalks around you, "How can you expect to go out into the real world when you're this pathetic?"

You clench your jaw. "Others did worse than me!" You burst out before you can stop yourself, hands clenching tightly.

He walks back in front of you, raising an eyebrow at your childish outburst as if bullying a cadet isn't the mere definition of immature.

"Why do you only ever have an issue with me? It's annoying." You should've stopped from the second you exploded at him but like always, he just infuriates you too much. "You knew I wouldn't be ready after twisting my ankle the other day but you still made me do this, I know you enjoy torturing me but—" A shriek escapes your lips as his fingers suddenly grip your hair, tightening around the strands as he pulls.

"You think too highly of yourself. I am not bullying you, you insolent little brat. I am making sure you don't get my cadets killed because you were too weak to fight because of what, a twisted ankle? His laugh sends a shiver down your spine. "Soldiers have lost limbs and you're complaining about your stupid fucking ankle?" He throws you on the ground and before you can collect yourself, his foot is hovering over your ankle.

Your eyes widen but before you can even let a word out, he's stepping on it. You quickly bite your lip, holding the scream that's threatening to leave your mouth and embarrass you even further. Fuck, it hurts.

He twists his foot, applying more unbearable pressure to your injured ankle. "Does it hurt?" He sneers. "You know what hurts more? Being torn apart by drooling freaks."

Your nails dig into the dirt, lip tearing from you refusing to cry out. But he presses and twists his foot, until you’re shaking, until a small cry escapes your lips. Until he wins.

"Stop!" You scream after your defeat, struggling to get away from his hold.

He scoffs, finally relenting. "Go muck out the stables."

Despite the burning hatred deep in your guts and the aching pain in your ankle, you're fine. You don't considering mucking out the stables a punishment despite that being his intention.

You love seeing the horses, it's the only silver lining in this dark path you've chosen for yourself. You smile as large, dark eyes blink at you once you get closer to the stables, taking in the sheer beauty. Back home, riding horses would always be your favorite hobby.

It was the one time a day you felt happy, free from all the stress and responsibilities your parents put on you.

You run your hands along his blonde hair, taking in how elegant and striking he looks. For a second, you ponder taking a saddle and riding him. It would be just like old times and heavens knows you need it. Before you can entertain the thought even more, you hear footsteps behind you.

You tense, fearing it's Levi but you let out a sigh of relief as Armin walks up. He's holding an apple and for a second you think it's for the horse but he hands it to you. You blink down at the fruit. "Thanks?" You mumble as you take it.

"We both know he won't be letting you eat tonight."

Your eyes widen, already knowing who the he is. "How'd you know?"

He chuckles, awkwardly scratching his neck. "I'm an observant guy and well Captain Levi doesn't really seem to like you. Well he never likes the new recruits but he seems to really...have an issue with you." His cheeks are blushing furiously with every word that comes out of his mouth.

"And I've noticed sometimes he takes your meals away when you mess up during training which is..."

"A lot?" You scoff, rolling your eyes.

He quickly shakes his head. "No, I wasn't going to say that!"

"It's okay." You sigh. "I know I suck but I'm improving! But he acts like I'm the worst freaking cadet and it's so freaking annoying." You groan, hand clenching around the apple. "I mean, would it kill him to say great job once in a while or at least not look at me like I'm worse than the damn Titans?!"

Armin seems to be pitying you as he pats your back, a comfort he seems to immediately regret as he yanks his hand away like he's just been burned. "S-sorry!" He gasps, taking a step back.

You laugh, "I'm not contaminated, Armin."

"I know....obviously you're not! It's just...well..."

You raise an eyebrow, realization slowly dawning on you. Back in Mitras, you were quite popular—a stark contrast to your life here. And with popularity comes the pack of lovesick boys who just have to profess their crush for you. And every single one of them had the same look that's currently resided on Armin's face right now.

"Armin." You start, doing nothing to stop the shameless smile now forming on your face. "Do you have a crush on me?"

It seems that was the absolute worst question to ask. His breath hitches, frantically shaking his head. "What?" He wheezes. "Where did you get that idea from? I don't—I—"

You stifle a laugh, walking closer to him. "It's okay." You try to reassure him. "You're cute." It's a shameless and pathetic attempt at flirting but it's not like you have many romantic options here. Half the boys in your class are useless and the other male population you're even allowed to interact with are off fighting Titans. And it's not like you can bat your eyelashes at your superiors.

"I am?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah." You smile, walking over to where the saddles are, knowing it's a bad idea but still placing it on the horse. You're going to get punished tomorrow anyways for whatever Levi deems is unfit so might as well actually have some fun before the asshole comes. "Do you want to join me for a ride?"

"Uhm...yes?" He chokes, watching as you lead the horse further out of the stables.

You straddle him, looking down at the blonde. Armin looks like he's about to pass out, cheeks a dangerous shade of red as he tries to muster up some words. He's seconds away from taking your hand and getting on the horse but the sound of footsteps have you both freezing in your place.

All the color drains from your face as you look up to see Levi standing there, “Stealing Survey Corps property is a crime.”

You get down from the horse, throat dry. “I wasn’t stealing.” Is all you can say. Armin is right besides you, about to come to your honor but the Captain waves his hand. “Leave Arlert.” He says, sounding almost bored but you can see the fury in his face. No matter how hard he tries to hide it.

Armin looks over at you, obviously not wanting to leave you in the mercy of the man everyone in this damn city fears but it’s pointless. When Levi gives an order, you obey.

He slowly retreats, head cast down as he starts walking away. “Don’t be too hard on her.” Is all he squeaks before leaving.

His eyes burn into your skin and you conveniently ignore his gaze, keeping your head down. You hope this tantrum will be a fast one, you don’t have it in you to deal with another discipline so fast. You weren’t going to steal a fucking horse if that much wasn’t obvious enough but he could care less about sensible facts whenever it comes to you.

“Instead of taking responsibility for your thievery, you make excuses.” He walks closer, arms clasped behind his back. “You can’t fight, can’t use the gear correctly, and now a liar and a thief. Not to mention acting like a whore around your comrades.”

You ears perk up at that last comment. “Excuse me?” You glare into his eyes.

“Was that how it worked for you back then? You would bat those eyelashes and everything would fall into your lap?” He sneers.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re a brat. A spoiled one at that.”

“And what about you?” You ask, not caring at how rude you sound. “You’re always spewing insults at me when you’re the worst of them all. Harassing a innocent cadet who’s just trying—”

“You’re barely a cadet.” He snorts.

“And you’re nothing but a bully!”

His infamous agility is used before your own eyes as his fingers wrap around your throat, pushing you against the wall. “Clean the fucking stables, that’s all you had to do. But instead you decide to disobey me and run off with fucking Arlert and now you’re insulting me? Do you want to get kicked out, huh brat?”

Scrambling to get away from his punishing grip on your throat, your nails dig into his hands. It’s quick, how easy it is to be on the brink of passing out. He knows exactly what correct pressure point to press as he squeezes. You gasp out, practically clawing at his knuckles now. “L-luh-let go!” You manage to get out.

Black dots form in your vision and despite all the struggling, it’s useless to win against this brute. “Levi!” You cry out and it seems the gears in his head finally start working again as he lets go.

He steps back, letting out an annoyed sigh as he stretches his fingers. You fall onto your knees, heaving onto the ground.

“You’re infuriating.” He says more to himself. “Why can’t you ever listen? From day one I told you that you didn’t belong here.”

“But instead you pay no attention to my words. Instead you stay and drive me fucking insane. Instead you flirt with everyone who has a pair of balls in this fucking place.”

You stand up, palm on the wall for support as you rub your aching throat. For a minute you’re too scared to talk, for how he’ll react and for the sound that will come out of your mouth but then you remember that frankly you don’t give a shit. “I wasn’t flirting, you asshole! I was having a simple conversation with a friend, something I know you aren’t familiar with but doesn’t mean you have to take your anger out on me.”

He just stands there, jaw clenched as you’re forced to stare into depths of blue-gray. They’re chilling, the way he looks at you. It’s always enough to have you second guess your actions, have goosebumps forming and your legs shaking.

He’s moving closer, terrifyingly so and there’s no way to run. You’re stuck between him and the wall, your body hitting it with a loud thud. Your nails scrape against the wall. “Why do you even care who I talk to? I’m trying to get better. I’m training day and night and a little nudge in the right direction wouldn’t hurt every once in a while but all you ever do is belittle me. It’s so—”

“So what?”

“Mean.”

His eyebrows furrow, eyes looking sharp enough to murder someone as he responds. “I’m not mean.” He replies, as if that’s the worst thing you could’ve possibly said to him.

As if he hasn’t been the one tormenting you since the day you met. “You’re just spoiled.” He says like it’s the simple truth. “Never went a day without someone caring for you, doing everything for you. No one has probably even raised their voice at you.”

You bite your lip, hating the way those are true. Why should you be ashamed of that? You were cared for as a child, it’s not something that should be used against you but the way Levi talks, it makes you feel like you’re nothing but a spoiled baby.

“I’m not mean. You’re just weak.”

You refuse to let the tears form, instead letting out a shaky sigh. “At least I’m trying to get better. To fight for my people. At least I’m not an old man attacking—”

“No, you’re just a shameless whore.”

Your mouth gapes open, landing a singular punch on his chest without thinking twice. You should regret it…you think you already do the second your fist makes contact with him. You’re already ready to bolt out of there but he’s grabbing you by the wrist. Stopping you in your tracks.

It’s not as harsh as it could’ve been. His fingers just stay there, wrapped around you.

“Why do you care who I interact with?” You ponder aloud, snatching your hand away from his hold. Is he really not going to retaliate for that punch?

“I don’t want you distracting my cadets.” He answers, eerily calm. It’s a bullshit excuse and you can see right through it.

“By being friendly?” You scoff, ready to accuse him of being an idiot but you stop in your tracks. “Would you rather it was you I batted my eyelashes at Captain?” You don’t know where the bravery came from. You’ve said countless questionable things to the Captain but never something as…suggestive as that.

Why else would he care so much? The bullying part yeah whatever he thinks you’re useless and spineless but why the hell should he care if you’re flirting with someone? Unless the old man has some weird crush on you.

It’s a ludicrous thought.

But you know it’ll piss him off. And that’s enough to act on it.

He grabs your chin in a flash and you’re already preparing yourself for the hit that’s going to come but nothing happens. Instead he just stands there, softly holding you as he tilts his head. Were you actually right??

His lips hover over your jaw and cheeks, never touching but you can feel his breath on your skin. Your pulse is pounding, heart hammering to the point you can’t hear anything. What is he playing at? You gulp, shivering a bit as his lips ghost over your ear. You wait anxiously for his next words, not liking the way you’re not entirely disgusted by his touch.

“One week of stable duty for your attempt at burglary, brat. Another for hitting a superior.”

He pulls away but only slightly, he stares like he’s eager to see the reaction you’re going to give. You’re in utter disbelief at the audacity of this bastard but to give him a visible reaction after he’s been torturing you all day is not on your to do list. “You keep abusing your power and I’ll have no choice but to go to the Commander.” You try to sound hardened but he’s left you a breathless mess.

He backs away, smiling at you. “One more week for backtalk.”

“That wasn’t backtalk!”

“Another week for more backtalk.”

You scream, hands clenched into fists as you try to not say a word.

He’ll always find a way to get the reaction he wants out of you, like it is some depraved need. “Screw you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Get back to work. And no more flirting with the comrades.” He walks away.

You stare daggers at his retreating form, wanting nothing more than to chuck the horse shit at him.

But despite the rage that’s seconds away from exploding inside of you, the thought of his fingers wrapped around your chin come back to haunt you, how his lips were inches away from making contact with you. How you weren’t pushing him away, disgusted with his actions. You don’t understand why you were so paralyzed.

It angers you more than anything the Captain has ever done.

#aot #aot x y/n #yandere #eren x y/n #eren x reader #eren x you #eren smut #jean x reader #jean x you #jean x y/n #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi x reader #attack on titan fic #yandere eren #yandere levi x reader #yandere jean #liz.💌

[sleepingpillscosmos]

STUPID GIFTS AND A NEW MILESTONE — jean kirstein

pairing: jean kirstein x fem!reader.

warnings/content: modern AU. implied past sex activity if you squint. reader cries but it's because she's happy.

wc: 1.3k.

a/n: hi hi hi @stopisa, this is your gift from me, your cupid <3 I hope you'll enjoy this fic and I hope you passed a wonderful day! I saw Jean was one of your preferred ones and I've wanted to write for him for a long time so I took this opportunity to do it!

You finished packing for tonight, remembering to put your gifts beside the bag so that you wouldn’t forget them.

It was Valentine’s day, every couple probably decided to go out and eat at a fancy restaurant, but you and Jean opted to stay at home and relax. You both had a hell of a week, so it was the only thing that didn’t require too much effort while spending time together.

As you left your apartment, you sent a quick text to Jean, letting him know that you would be there in about twenty minutes or so.

After you arrived at his apartment you rang the doorbell and Jean opened the door almost immediately.

“Were you waiting for me at the door like a dog?” You said jokingly as you hugged him.

Even though you lived close, you often didn’t have the time to see each other. You both worked, had classes at university and your own lives, so even if you really wished to spend time together everyday, you couldn’t.

You also had different friends. You met Connie, Armin, Eren, Mikasa and Sasha at the very start of your relationship, but they were all childhood friends and you didn’t want to intrude every time they hung out, even if they told you multiple times that it didn’t bother them. Jean met your friends a couple months into your relationship, but it didn’t go as smoothly. Jean and Reiner already knew each other and they weren’t, and still are, on bad terms. Your boyfriend always kept it civil for your sake, but you can’t blame him when he doesn’t want to hang out with you all, which is rare anyway.

“Would I sound pathetic if I said yes?” He asked as he squeezed you harder, leaving a couple of kisses on the side of your head.

“Don’t worry, I already know you are.” He scoffed, breaking the hug while you chuckled. He grabbed your cheeks with both his hands as he closed the distance between you to rest his forehead against yours, you moved your hands to his waist.

“Hi,” Jean said looking in your eyes, “Happy Valentine’s day, sweetheart.”

You smiled muttering, “Happy Valentine’s day to you too, love.”

His smile widened before he kissed you gently. It didn’t matter how long you two have been together, his heart always skipped a beat when you called him that. He just felt so loved and appreciated when you used pet names, but that was with no doubt his favourite.

Once you were both in need of some air, you broke the kiss. You took off your shoes and went to Jean’s bedroom to leave your things and get changed in your pyjamas while he prepared your luxurious dinner, cup noodles.

When you got back in the living room, Jean was already waiting for you on the couch, noodles placed on the little table in front of him, blanket beside him and remote in hand already choosing the series you were slowly watching together.

“I hope you didn’t watch episodes without me.” you teased, sitting beside him and covering the both of you with the blanket before grabbing your noodles.

“It happened one time!” He defended himself.

“And since that day I know that I can’t trust you. What kind of boyfriend would do that?” You clutched your heart with a hurt expression. He looked at you smirking, “Connie doesn’t count.”

He sighed defeated, then he pushed play with the remote, to finally let your night start.

[...]

“Okay time for the gifts!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together. It was your favourite part of the day, not because you were materialistic, but because of your tradition together. It started randomly, but since the first Valentine’s day you spent together it’s stuck with you.. Your tradition consisted of two gifts, one is the real or serious one and the other is the stupidest thing you could think of.

One year you gifted him a pair of slippers. To be exact, horse slippers. Honestly, he loved them, but his friends even more, especially Eren.

“You start.” He said since he knew you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for too long. You nodded happily and handed him the first gift, the stupid one. He opened the bag and found a mug, which looked like it was plain, but when he turned it he read the phrase “I love you for your personality, but that dick is a great bonus.” written in black.

“No, you didn’t!” He gasped, covering his mouth with his free hands, he was nearly crying from laughing so hard. This was one of the best gifts hands down. “I need to send a photo to Connie and Eren right now.”

He quickly took a photo of the mug and sent it to the group chat with the boys, then he hugged and kissed you, thanking you a hundred times and saying this would become his everyday mug.

“Okay, here’s my stupid one for you,” he handed you the package and you didn’t waste a second to open it. It was a pair of socks, but you couldn’t really understand what was printed on them at first. Once you looked at them better, you realised.

“What the actual fuck is this.” You said laughing. There was a face printed on them. Jean’s face. “They’re horrible. I love them.”

You hugged him and finally gave him the real present, even if he told you that nothing could surpass the mug.

This year you went for something more cheesy. You saw he was looking for a chain necklace on the internet since his broke a couple of months ago, but he never bought one, he couldn’t set his mind on a specific one. So you researched for the perfect one, you spent weeks finding it, and then you had both his and your initials engraved on the inside of the necklace.

“I don’t know what to say, really” He stared at the necklace like it was the most beautiful and precious thing in the world, inspecting every centimetre of it. Then he saw the engraved initials and his brain malfunctioned for a good 10 seconds.

He thanked you again, hugging you so hard that you struggled to breathe for a moment, then he took your next present in his hands.

“There’s something I want to say before you open this,” he started, fidgeting with the box in his hands. “We talked about this thing multiple times, mostly joking, but I think it’s the right thing to do now. We’ve been together for a long time, and I love you so, so much. We’ve been through a lot, and even now we’re still struggling with some things. Like spending time together because we’re so busy. But I think you’re my person, honestly I kind of always thought that, and I hope you think the same. So, after thinking about this day and night for a very long time, and after a push by Mikasa and Sasha, this is my gift for you.”

He handed you the box and you opened it with teary eyes from the sweet words he just used.

You found two keys and a little keychain with a phrase from your song, “These are the keys for my apartment. I want to ask you to come and live here with me, so that we don’t have to worry about finding time for each other since we’ll always come home, our home.”

Now you were crying. You couldn’t find the right words to voice your love for him and your gratitude for the gift. You hugged him again, wetting his shirt with your happy tears and mumbling a soft thank you, and that yes, you thought that he was your person too.

No, you knew that he was your person.

network: @enchantedforest-network.

#jean kirstein #kirstein jean #jean kirstein x reader #kirstein jean x reader #jean kirstein imagine #kirstein jean imagine #jean kirstein x you #kirstein jean x you #jean x reader #kirstein x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan x you #attack on titan fic #enchantedforestnetwork #⊹₊ ⋆ sleepingpill — fics

[levisjinchuriki]

pound me

summary: levi is a tender lover, but after a bad week you just want him to dominate you

warning: NSFW, dom!levi, sub!reader, spanking, profanity, vague mention of subspace, afab!reader, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie, cocky!levi, praising, aftercare, petnames (baby, good girl, sweet girl)

word count: 2.6k 

levi keeps his lips on your skin as his hips softly meet yours. his short hair tickles as the front few pieces glide against you, leaving goosebumps. one of your hands is linked near your head with his. he always did this when you were intimate with him. he was always such a gentle lover. 

but gentle is not what you want. you want him to be rough with you. 

you had such a shit week, the new cadets were a pain in your ass. you had twice as much paperwork to fill out, having to do it by yourself since you couldn’t trust any of the new soldiers to do it correctly. all week your mind had been filled with thoughts of what needed to be done and you had no way to get your frustration out, too busy with deadlines and the pressures of being a leader. 

you wrap your legs tighter around his waist, inviting him deeper into you. the action makes him whimper. “more”, you plead. levi picks up the pace slightly, but continues to keep his hips meeting yours with light thrusts. his grip on your hand tightens. you whine. as good as he feels you know you need more. you need him to invade your senses, take control of you, make you forget everything except his name. it’s what you want, no- need, right now. “levi”, you mewl. 

you feel his lips against the sweet spot of your neck. he sucks lightly, but it wasn’t enough. nothing was enough. levi could tell something was wrong. you had been frustrated all week. the same tone was clear in your voice. it doesn’t bother him though, he’s more focused on trying to make you feel good. 

“tell me what you need, sweet girl”, he encourages. levi is so attentive to you, always. he’ll give you anything you ask of him, anything. he never wants you to experience the lack of love and proper care that he had to. he never wants you to question his loyalty. he would give you everything you wanted, you just had to ask. 

“pound me”, you surprise him by saying. almost immediately the kisses on your neck stop, along with the movement of his hips. you whine as his tender loving halts. it’s the opposite of what you need right now. 

levi pulls back from your neck and gives you a look. at any other time you would’ve been embarrassed by your statement. you had never requested this from him before. he’s made it a point to never be rough with you. he doesn’t have many things in his life that he considers to be precious, but you are definitely one of them. 

“pound you?”, he echoes. his voice is deeper than usual. his pupils are blown out and he’s breathing heavily through his nose. if he’s being honest, he’s always wanted to take things up a notch in the bedroom. but since he knew how dominating and intense he could be he held back, not granting himself that luxury. he never thought it would be something you wanted, as well. it excited him. 

“please”. levi unlinks his fingers from yours, opting to hold onto the headboard. you could see the change in his eyes. if you wanted rough levi, then that’s exactly what he’ll give you. 

he rests his forehead against yours, maintaining intense eye contact as his hips start moving again. it’s slow at first, but he gradually picks up the pace. you can hear your skin connecting every time he pushes into you. you feel your chest vibrate as you let out a satisfied moan. your hands find his back and you press your fingertips into his spine as you keep eye contact with him.

“you want me to pound you?”. his voice is husky as he restates your request, mocking you. you whimper out a small “mhm” as your fingertips dig further into his skin. his own hands grip the wood tighter, still showing a bit of restraint before he decides to unleash the demon inside him. 

you bite your lip to keep your cries at bay. you’ve barely begun and you already feel so much pleasure. you really had no idea what levi had in store for you. 

levi’s gaze shifts down to your lips. he can hear the restraint in your voice as you hold back your wails of pleasure. he frowns, deciding he doesn’t like that. levi experiments, reaching his hand down to pop you on the cheek. it wasn’t a hard slap, just enough to get his point across. 

it’s his first time trying it, he doesn’t want to hurt you. but the act makes you release the hold you have on your bottom lip and stare at him, eyes full of submission. “wanna hear you”, he reasons. you seem to like it. you nod against him and he praises you for being his good girl. the petname makes you shiver. 

he’s never called you that in bed. he usually reserves that name for when you reach a goal you had in mind. like when you were just a cadet and levi was helping you train. or when you finally started eating again after you lost some of your squad members on a mission a while back. but never in bed. 

you don’t even have time to comment on how much you like the name because levi is adjusting his position, drilling himself deeper into you. his right hand holds onto your thigh as he places your left leg over his shoulder. it makes your head spin. there’s something primal behind his eyes. you’ve definitely set something off inside him. 

“oh!-” you gasp at how deep he feels. your eyes flutter closed, head lolling to the side as you let out a deep groan in pleasure. he was hitting that spot. the one that always made you weak.

he laughs at you. fucking laughs. “yeah?” levi encourages, his head following yours. your usually low moans are now high-pitched. it’s your sign that you were close. your chest rises and falls quickly as you continue to gasp through every breath. your hand snakes up to hold onto the hair behind his head. you’re feeling too good to speak. 

levi looks at you through his bangs, smirking as he watches you lose control. “feels good?”. he doesn’t have to hear your response to know it’s true. not when you’re submitting to him like this. 

then you feel it. the telltale signs you’re about to come. the furrowing of your brows, the trembling of your thighs, the tightening of your abs. you push your hands against levi’s shoulders. you always did when you were close. it’s useless to try to move him away, though. he’s much stronger than you. the action made him lean his body more into yours.

“levi” your voice is small as you try to warn him of your release. your faces are so close together you’re sharing a breath. his gaze watches as your brows pinch closer together. your mouth hangs open as you teeter on the edge. 

“come on, baby”, he’s begging you, wanting to see how good he makes you feel. he can feel you squeezing him, knowing it will only be another second before you snap. 

“give it to me”, he tells you. he wants you to come. needs you to come around him. he’s close too, but levi isn’t quite done with you yet. he was giving you exactly what you wanted. all he wanted in return was for you to finish. it was his reward. he's much more of a giver than receiver. 

he feels you before he hears you...coming on him, clenching around him. it almost makes him finish right there. “nnngh”, you groan out. 

“that’s it” he praises you. levi’s hips are still working against yours to help you through your release. it takes him a while before he stops, slowing his pace gradually so he can softly bring you down from your high. when the feeling is finally over you open your eyes to look at him. his cheeks are flushed, skin tacky and a small smile is on his lips. 

“that was so good”, you say breathlessly. “exactly what i needed”. he allows you to bring him into a kiss, knowing it was your way of thanking him for making you feel so good. 

“you’re not hurt, are you?”, he asks once your lips part. he’s already inspecting your body, making sure he didn’t accidentally injure you while making love. you shake your head with a small smile. 

“no, levi”, you confirm. his thumb strokes your cheek for a moment. although he still has something in store for you, he’s still concerned about your wellbeing. you hadn’t complained once, but it was natural for him to worry about you. 

“good”, he says quietly to himself. he gives you a minute to catch your breath before turning you over. he grabs your hips and pulls them to his, making your back arch. 

you furrow your brows and look back at him. he was staring intensely at your ass, nostrils flaring. “levi, what-”, you’re interrupted by a harsh slap to one of your ass cheeks. 

this is new. it’s nice. 

really nice. 

“i didn’t come yet, did i?”, he asks you. you were so caught up in your own pleasure you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished.without another word, levi pushes himself inside you from.

you let out a hum as he fills you up again. as impossible as it seems, you’re even more full than before. you allow your head to sink against the bed as you close your eyes, already feeling immense pleasure. 

levi lets out a satisfied moan as he sheaths himself all the way. he can never get used to how you mold around him so perfectly. “you always feel so good”, he tells you. the compliment goes straight to your heat, making you clench around him. levi shudders and grips your hips to get a hold of himself. “s-shit- stop squeezing me like that”, he warns you. 

it’s not long before levi starts moving, setting a bruising pace as the back of your thighs slap against the front of his. his head tilts forward and he allows himself to moan freely. it’s deep, desperate, animalistic. you always loved hearing it. he watches your ass cheeks jiggle with every thrust. the ripples of your soft skin is hypnotizing. 

“my god-levi!”. this is the loudest you’ve been in bed. you’re borderline screaming as he drills into you so good. the sound of his hips harshly meeting yours sounds like heaven.

he watches as you tightly grip onto the sheets to ground yourself. he’s really pounding you, exactly like you’d asked him to. 

“is this what you wanted, my love?”. he sounds different, darker. you knew how intense he could be while his uniform was on, but this was an entirely different levi.

“yes!”, you squirm. you can feel your toes curl as he coaxes another orgasm from you. you gasp, thighs trembling once again. he fucks you through your second release. levi doesn’t let up, not one bit. he can’t, not when he’s so close. 

you’re overstimulated. it pains you as much as it pleasures you. you moan his name. he feels so, almost too good. you can’t help but weakly reach back and try to push him away. you could already feel yourself coming close, again. he takes your wrist and pins it to your back, not faltering his movements for a second. 

“baby-”, you call out to him. your voice cracks. you pant as you feel yourself about to come. you don’t think you can handle another orgasm. you try to run from him as he digs into your guts, but it just sets him off. 

“stop fucking moving” he orders harshly, pushing against your back so you’re stuck in place. he’s really being rough now. levi is selfishly chasing his own release, not having any remorse for you. he’s all you feel. his name is the only word you can think of. your moans paired with his are the only sounds that exist to you right now. he’s flooding your senses like you’d hoped for.

the angle is harsh. it’s so hard to breathe. you love it. 

he’s cursing under his breath, a habit when his brain shuts off. your eyes shut tightly as you come closer to your third release of the night. 

“please, please”. you’re not sure who’s begging at this point. 

levi lets out a deep growl. there it is. he’s finally right there at the edge with you. his eyes are slowly closing as he focuses on how you feel. how you always wrap around him so perfectly and how you’re saying his name and begging him to come with you. 

a loud, broken, violent sob escapes him as he comes hard inside of you. his thighs shake as he fills you up for the first time. he’s always so careful to pull out, but you brought out the animal in him. he lets out cute whimpers as he comes down from his high and catches his breath. 

your third orgasm has you seeing stars. your abs ache from how hard you came. levi’s relentless drilling has you winded. 

when he comes back to reality he hears you catching your breath. the force on your back has disappeared, allowing you to breathe normally again. he looks at you all fucked out for him. your backside is flushed from his skin hitting yours. he can even see where he had spanked you earlier.

levi slowly eases out and you shudder at the loss of him. once he lets go of your hips you sink into the bed. your breaths are already evening out. you feel light, not noticing how sore your body is. he took good care of you, in ways you never thought possible. levi is a talented lover, of course, but you have never experienced a high like this before. 

in the time you were out levi has already cleaned both of you up, put on his boxers and brought you a glass of water. he’s also made sure to put away the clothes you both had ripped off earlier and stacked a folded pajama set for you to slip into once you wake up. levi is an expert in aftercare, knowing just what you need. after settling back in bed, he makes sure to pull the blanket over your waist to cover you up a bit. he lays on his side facing you as his fingertips softly run against your back. his once red skin is now back to its usual pale color. his hair is still messy, but somehow it looks perfect. his eyes hold so much fondness as he looks at you. it takes a while for you to come to, but when you do levi is right there, treating you so delicately. 

you’ll definitely be sore for the next week. but you don’t mind one bit. it’ll be a reminder of how well levi satisfied you. if he can have you feeling this good every night the pain will be worth it.

----

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading!! this is my first levi fic ever, i hope you enjoyed :) please send a request!! i write for aot characters: just levi for now and naruto characters: naruto, sasuke, shikamaru, jiraiya, itachi, kakashi ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

#levisjinchuriki #levi ackerman fic #levi fic #levi ackerman smut #levi aot #aot fic #aot smut #attack on titan fic #levi attack on titan #my works

[coloredsolos]

Do you have any jean/reader fic recs? Thank youuuu

yes yes yes!! i’ll categorize them because I’m not sure exactly what you’re looking for!! (all of the fics will be on ao3 and yes, all of them have smut hehe) if you know any other jean/reader fics please let me know!! i’m starving here!! also these are all 1+ chapter fics!!

MODERN AU

Respectfully, an Absolute Mess by Ercthesloth

this one right here. i laughed, cried and wanted to choke the reader at certain points. it is so incredible. this is a modern au that is not completed. please make sure you read the tags and warnings because this has some heavy topics!! also, the final pairing is still up for debate I believe (it’s a jean/reader and eren/reader fic, they both want the reader but reader is very torn)

Ice Cream, You Scream by LilacMochi

i loveee this one, I can’t wait for my updates because fuckboy jean has my entire heart! reader and jean both work at ice cream parlor, jean is an absolute fuckboy but he can’t seem to understand why he has such a soft sport for the reader? this isn’t completed and has relatively slow updates but god it’s so good.

The Boys at Work by spiteless

(also @/spiteless-xo on tumblr!! i didn’t know if she wanted to be tagged but she posts on tumblr too!! I read her stuff religiously. she has some fic recs as well)

read up to current spot in a NIGHT! I could not put it down. another jean/reader and eren/reader, but jean is readers best friend and tries to warn the reader to stay away from fuckboy eren… but does the reader ever listen? also love the fact this one is a modern workplace au (is that what it’s called?) like it’s AFTER college (with some flashbacks of course) but I love love love it

HISTORICAL (?) AU

Summer by ratboiradio

also @/ratboiradio in tumblr! I had no clue gracie had a tumblr and nearly fell to the ground when I saw they did!!

I love me a period piece and this one… I have no words. jean/reader fic that has everything you could possibly need (aka jean and cats!) also did not know I needed french speaking jean until I read this… be warned this also gets a little heavy at some parts, so just make sure you read the tags/ warnings!!

I will also be starting on a modern au fic soon! this of course will be a jean/reader fic… are we surprised. anyways I will be posting on ao3, however I will also make sure to post the link to it somewhere on my page! I hope these fic recs help!! pls send me some if you know any good ones!!

#julia answers #snk jean #aot jean #jean aot #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein fic #jean kirschstein fic #fic rec #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fic #aot fic #snk fic #snk #shingeki no kyoujin

[peachdues]

working on the Levi smut in Coalescence and godddd this man makes me feral.

Over the years, Levi had found one of the more irritating aspects of his time with the Survey Corps was just how starved its soldiers were for entertainment — for anything that would offer even the slightest moment of respite from the horrific violence of their often short lives. Often, that entertainment came in the form of gossip — who was fucking who, who’d fucked over who, and who was wanting to fuck whom.

Levi himself had been the subject of some of these rumors — thankfully, only the wishful ones, as he’d taken great care to not do anything that might give the little motormouths more gas to add to their fire of bullshit.

And even after his relationship with you had begun, the two of you had managed to avoid doing anything which could spark even a whisper of speculation among the other Scouts, and for a little more than a year, you’d been successful.

Until that shitty implant failed to do its job.

By now, the news of your pregnancy and the rumored father had probably spread to every single person in the Corps — likely the whole damn military by now.

So, fuck it.

If any doubt lingered as to whether the enigmatic Captain was truly the father of your child, he was happy to clarify it for them.

“Go on, Y/N,” Levi rasped, shoving his arms under your legs and pushing them up to his shoulders until your thighs pressed flush against his chest. Your eyes widened as the blunt head of his cock pushed deeper,

“Tell them,” he ordered. “Tell them all who you belong to.” He twisted his head to the side and planted a kiss just above your knee. “Tell them whose cock you beg for at night.”

“Tell them whose baby you’re carrying,” his balls tightened to the point of pain, but Levi resisted letting go, needing you to say what he’d so desperately long to hear from the very moment he’d laid eyes on you. “Let them know — let them all know.”

#attack on titan #levi ackerman #aot #aot x reader #attack on titan fic #aot smut #levi aot #snk levi #shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader

[dvrkfverie]

Eren is a grunter, imo he does moan and here’s what i think about it

He grunts a lot when y’all first start up, like deep guttural grunts and that’s him trying to be as masculine as possible, come across as dominant as possible.

butttt when he gets closer to cumming, and also when he gets pussy drunk, he starts sounding more and more desperate, he talks at you, his breath heavy, his words coming out almost as a whine.

“you like that baby? uh huh? you do?”

“fuck y/n you just keep pulling me in fuckkk-“

“want me to cum in you? yeah?”

creaming rn actually

and when he actually cums, he sometimes sounds like how you’d expect someone like armin to sound like, a higher pitched moan, a whimper almost, and my god it would sound heavenly coming from Eren

#eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren smut #eren jeager smut #attack on titan fic #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

-

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,. 

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

 “Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however. 

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup. 

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar. 

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

#hehehehehe enjoy #i love plug eren so much it hurts my head #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger series #eren jaeger fanfic #eren yeager series #attack on titan fic #aot fic #much ado about nothing #much ado uni #much ado universe

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter 20.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 6k Summary: flashback ten - also known as the final mission Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - graphic violence, minor character deaths, titan deaths, bloodshed, graphic depictions of injury, despair, peril

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CHAPTER 20 - FLASHBACK: TEN

Eighty to forty.

Slashed in half.

On paper, the tactical statistics sound nothing short of a miracle.

In a division plagued by endless casualties, any hope of saving lives rather than destroying them should (and will) sanction blind approval from higher command.

For the commandant, for the king, for the people behind those Walls relying on this team to succeed in breaching the forest to pursue the mission of the Scout Regiment, it’s the best idea curated to date—

And it’s all thanks to Commander Erwin and his right-hand man, Captain Levi.

Levi Ackerman insists he can take on any Abnormal single-handedly.

Commander Erwin insists his Special Operations squad can and will find a way through the thick of it, once and for all.

A triumphant success for humanity, no matter the cost.

— but that was on paper.

When you wake, Levi isn’t beside you in your bed.

His disappearing act in the morning isn’t unusual nor is it disappointing.

By now you're used to waking up without him, though you only find yourself sleeping thanks to him.

(He's admitted that, if he doesn't slip out earlier than when you wake, then he may never leave.) 

Although your relationship is the worst kept secret within the Special Ops squad, it’s still just that:

A secret.

What is not a secret, however, is the trajectory of what’s to come.

Not every day in the regiment is a nightmare, but this is the type of day the average cadet dreads when they pledge their allegiance to the Survey Corps.

So you ready for the day with noticeable weight on your shoulders.

A determination to see this through.

A promise to show up for your fellow man.

(An oath to Levi that the two of you will make it out of this alive and see another sunrise.)

Today will be brutal, but you can prevail.

Stepping out of your quarters in full Scout gear, you hear the whinnies and whines of nearing horses as they gallop toward headquarters.

You fix the collar of your cropped tan jacket in time with your footsteps descending down the stairwell, mind elsewhere.

Bodies hurry in and out of the open front door. Gear clinks. Blades sheath.

“Lieutenant James!”

That voice belongs to no soul you know.

You stop dead in your tracks right in front of the open double doors. Turning to the sunlight, you raise a hand to shield the rays to locate who may have spoken your name.

Before you stands an entirely new group of Scouts that you’ve never seen before. Fresh-faced and determined, if not a little terrified — there is a large array of them standing around in a semicircle at the mouth of headquarters.

All adorn the Wings of Freedom.

All press their fist backwards to their heart, denting the emblem.

You realize some of their faces look familiar.

Albeit it was a brief stint as a cadet in the training corps, recognition flutters over your face as you spy some of the hopefuls that slept not so far from your bunk in the barracks.

It's been years. What were once youthful faces now age well before their time.

“Lieutenant, sir!”

The one in the center, a short-haired woman with glasses, barks once more.

“We’re pleased to make your acquaintance and to serve under the command of Humanity’s Strongest.”

At first you say nothing, dazed at the sheer number of this squad. 

Seven people hold steadily onto seven individual horses, their shoulders shrouded by emerald green cloaks. Some keep their hoods adorned to the crowns of their heads. Others bare their nervous but brave faces to you.

“At ease,” you murmur, and they lower their fists. “I wasn’t aware another squad was joining us this morning.”

“Miro Squad, sir, at your service,” the short-haired person greets, bowing. “I received Commander Erwin’s urgent letter for additional soldiers in the pursuit of breaching the forest.”

They take a half-step back and gestures to their team, pointing out every soul on their squad.

Miro, their leader; Trina, their second-in-command with wild fiery hair; and Scouts Orin, Max, Penelope, Cesca, and Rini.

Seven additional Scouts.

Fourteen Scouts in full for this Hail Mary of a mission.

Then it hits:

Proposing half of the original projected damage was bold, even for someone as shameless as Commander Erwin.

He had no qualms with setting this mission up with the new layout provided by Levi, ensuring as much of an air-tight plan as possible.

Eighty to forty percent is nothing short of a miracle.

But miracles do not exist in the Scouts.

Your stomach drops into the dirt with the sickening realization of what Commander Erwin’s grandiose solution really meant.

Miro Squad is the forty percent reduction.

A cruel and inhumane buffer of surefire casualties in order to keep the Special Ops squad intact during the breach.

You’re staring at a group of devoured bodies before you even reach the trees.

“It’s…”

You struggle with your words before slamming your backward fist to your heart, raising your chin.

Some of the younger Scouts stare in awe at your blatant display of honor.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Miro Squad.” 

You bow, though you feel dirty for doing so.

“I trust Commander Erwin made you aware of today’s efforts?”

Miro nods. “We intend to serve however we can.”

They don’t know.

They need to know.

They need to make an informed decision before—

“Lieutenant,” a deep voice sounds behind you, and your skin crawls.

Turning your chin, you stare eye to eye with the blue-eyed man boring down on you.

Commander Erwin appears somber.

Stoic.

“Yes, Commander?”

The question is small, but it drips with a knowing venom.

Erwin is not fazed. “Captain Levi is tending to the horses at the stables. Can you aid him in preparation before departure?”

To you, you conjure what appears to be a clear answer woven between the lines:

Do not interfere. Do not disobey.

You hold rank to an extent in the Scouts, but what the Commander says, goes.

Continuing to hold his icy blue stare, you try to convey the question you cannot say out loud.

(Do they know what is about to happen?)

Erwin continues to stare right back, not the least bit fazed by the conflict in your brow.

He is confident. He is headstrong.

An answer.

They're going to dedicate their hearts.

(Just like you, too, promised years ago.)

Without another word, you turn on a heel and beeline straight to the stables.

Anger.

Why do you feel so much anger?

Is it because the outcome feels bleak well before mission has started?

Are the odds truly this stacked against humanity?

When you reach the parted doors of the stables, he's there — Levi Ackerman stands in front of his black stallion, gliding a gentle hand down its muzzle.

He senses your presence well before you even say a word.

He turns easily to you, but his eyes sharpen a fraction when he picks up how pinched your shoulders are.

“James,” he greets neutrally, brow knitting. “What’s—”

“Miro Squad just showed up.”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you snip, making your way to your own horse — she has a white coat with speckled gray spots all along her body.

She makes a small chortle noise when you near and you serve your flattened palm to her for a nuzzle.

(Behind the pen doors, you note she already has her gear in place. Levi must have already saddled her up for you while you were getting ready.)

The dark-haired man to your left sighs in a huff. 

“Not playing dumb, James. I was genuinely asking.”

“It’s the squad Erwin’s setting up for slaughter,” you decide to elaborate hotly.

A pause passes.

You don't turn to see Levi's expression, but you can sense how tense the space between the two of you has become.

“If it’s Miro Squad he called to action, then they’ve fared well in comparison to the other squadrons," he argues with little fire. "Did he personally request them?"

"Allegedly."

"Allegedly?" Levi repeats, sharper in tone. "Either he did or he didn't."

"According to Miro, yes, he sent an urgent letter requesting aid."

Finally you turn a cheek towards him, forcing your eyes to meet.

You know that look he gives you sidelong. 

Don’t start.

(Neither of you need to fight again, not before this mission.)

"Then Erwin didn't pick a random crop of Scouts to shit the bed and die on us," Levi reasons, softer. Conspiratorial. "I know you think he’s a bastard, but—”

“Worst case scenario,” you interrupt, “at least his Special Ops team won’t die?”

“If my strategy goes well, then no one dies." He counters with the certainty that’s entirely Levi. “You forget my name is on the damn ledger, too, unless this is you trying to tell me something.”

White-hot embarrassment courses your veins as your childhood friend waits for you to challenge his statement — to call him an equal-part premeditated murderer sat right beside the commander.

You can’t.

You won’t.

Instead you cool off by slowly petting your horse, willing your bad feeling to wither away.

After a moment, Levi wills his voice to soften again. “We need as many Scouts as we can—”

“I know.”

“—and even then, if we all kick the bucket, it's on me."

Levi finishes with a heavy sigh. He turns away, dropping his chin to his chest.

“I'll take whatever punishment fits the crime if it goes to shit."

A beat passes.

Blinking several times, you turn your body to him and drop the attitude.

“...and I'll do everything in my power to make sure we stay alive," you whisper softly. "That everyone comes home."

Levi’s head hangs, cascading his wispy black hair as a curtain over his face.

“That's not supposed to be your burden."

"Where you go, I go, remember?" you tell him. "For better or worse, I don't care."

"Wanna workshop vows, huh?" he mumbles. "Right now?"

This seems to ease the air about the stables.

Centimeter by centimeter, twin pairs of shoulders release in their tension.

You can't help but smile, even if the moment is tense.

"I think the Commander would find the dramatics funny."

"Oh, sure, proposing to your ass right before the single-biggest mission in Scout history would really tickle his funny bone," he sarcastically replies.

"It'd sure tickle Hange's."

"Hange doesn't need more ammunition, not after catching our asses that one time—"

"That one time that was your fault, you mean?" You grin as he glares. Still, his scowl is playful. "Loud Mouth Ackerman—"

"Shut up, Lieutenant."

Levi lets go of his horse and raises his hand, palm outstretched.

“Get the hell over here before anyone catches us a second time, alright?”

Albeit small, he smiles.

It's forced, like he wants to remember this — to focus on this.

The final moments before the point of no return.

Like a moth to a flame, you step away from your horse to step towards the short, dark-haired man.

Once you’re close enough, he pulls you in from the nape of your neck and drags your forehead to his, pressing them together.

His eyes squeeze shut.

You stare, memorizing his face.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “Don’t die.”

All the anger in your body melts away.

“I love you, too,” you reply just as softly. “I won’t—”

The stable door creaks.

You leap off of the captain to pretend like you’re picking up the bucket of water at his boots.

Levi stays put, dropping his arm like dead weight.

“Captain. Lieutenant.”

You don’t need to see the face to know it’s Erwin’s voice echoing through the stables.

“It’s time to move out.”

You both reply in unison, two different octaves.

“Yes, sir.”

.

.

.

.

.

The formation is simple:

Captain Levi leads the charge into the forbidden forest with Lieutenant James at his side.

Behind them in a diamond formation are the Special Operation Scouts Petra, Oluo, Gunther, and Eld.

Command Erwin, Section Commander Hange, and Moblit remain at headquarters for the recon and debrief.

At the rear of the formation are Miro Squad to specifically call out nearing and flanking titans that the first squad may miss.

They shadow the Special Operations unit as back-ups, no matter the cost.

And at first? It's easy.

Deceiving easy.

The mouth of the forest gives little trouble.

Both squadrons of Scouts breach the thick grove of towering trees without incident.

Thirty minutes into this mission, in the belly of this beast, not a single Abnormal has been spotted.

There aren't any typical titans, either.

It’s quiet.

Serene.

“Alright, listen up!”

With his hands tightly wound around leather reigns, Captain Levi finally calls to the Scouts behind him.

“Keep your eyes peeled. Abnormals do not move like other titans. These shitheads can be fast and appear at a moment’s notice.”

“Right!” Several of the Miro squad shouts back.

The Special Operations squad is too focused to reply.

Whenever you glance over at Levi, he’s smooth as stone. 

He refuses to allow any emotion cloud his judgment on a mission, and you can imagine it won’t be any different this go-around.

Because this mission cannot fail.

The Scouts must push forward, no matter the cost.

(Even if the irrevocable cost makes you sick to your stomach.)

The sun shines bright over a canopy of trees.

Your cloak is too warm in this type of weather.

As you push further into the thick of the terrain, nearing what is assumed to be the halfway point of the forest, birds chirp less and less.

Eerie silence overtakes the pounding of hooves into the dirt.

Then, as fast as an inhale, you see it:

Directly ahead trudges a nine-meter titan, peering around a thick tree trunk.

"Captain!" Gunther shouts. "Ahead at our twelve!"

"I see the piece of shit," Levi calls back. "We keep moving. I'll take care of it."

You don't doubt that he will.

As it continues to slowly advance on your formation, you can tell the team is a little more tense.

Ready — 

Except no one was prepared, not really.

The titan ahead is an army of one, but it is not the only titan here.

It was just the only one right in front of you.

Behind you sounds a scream so bloodcurdling that you nearly lock up on your horse.

You turn despite yourself.

Within seconds, you see Max get ripped clear off of his horse with the sheer force of otherworldly strength.

(...a hand?)

Then, a gust of wind sweeps and swirls the dirt into a lackluster tornado.

His horse narrowly escapes.

It rolls over and over, kicking up a thick dust cloud.

Max speeds through the air at breakneck speed like a human arrow —

Until he abruptly crashes into a thick tree trunk, dislocating his spine from his head.

The crunch is like ripping a stalk of ripe lettuce in half.

He simply crumples against the tree, limbs peacefully blowing in the wind like a leaf.

His Scout cloak billows over his shocked face, forever frozen in belated surprise.

Gone.

Just like that.

Then from the shadows, as if waiting for its prey, a five-meter titan stumbles around a tree to chomp on the recently deceased body.

It gnaws off his legs as they dangle in the air, spattering blood all over the forest floor.

Your horse gallops on.

You can't look away.

Then someone screams, forcing your eyes to rip away from the horror.

“Cesca!” A blonde girl shrieks to the right of the formation — Penelope, you think her name is. “Don’t!”

“It's devouring him!” Cesca wails at the top of her lungs. “We have to go back for him!”

“He’s already dead!” Trina calls with experienced calm. “There's no use, soldiers! Keep your eyes forward. We keep moving!”

“James—”

Your head turns when Levi calls to you.

Wide eyes meet a narrowed gaze.

“—that means you, too.”

Your eyes round with the realization that everything is happening so fast yet moving in slow motion.

What was that thing?

Was that a... ?

You were so busy watching Max get eaten that you didn’t realize three more titans appeared on the northeast corner, awakened by the screams of Miro Squad.

Shit.

This isn’t good.

This is not good.

“Levi,” you begin slowly, but he shakes his head.

"Don't hesitate. We push forward no matter what."

He's right.

Max is dead.

You just have to hope the rest of Miro squad keeps their wits about them.

You turn your head to make eye contact with Miro.

“Faster!”

“Roger, Lieutenant,” Miro tells you before shouting to their team. “Keep going, Scouts! We should be halfway through the clearing.”

“Miro,” Trina alerts them sharply, "three more titans are crowding from the right."

“Shit, what does that make it now? Seven of them!?” Miro hisses.

(Seven?)

Your eyes connect with Petra who appears equal parts shocked at just how quickly this mission has dissolved.

“I— there's a whole bunch of them in the back!”

Penelope calls frantically, staring behind her.

"They're surrounding us!"

Three to the east.

Another three to the northwest.

A couple to the south, and another...

Something entirely unlike anything you'd ever seen before.

“Captain, we’re going to need to ditch the horses,” you tell Levi in a hushed voice.

“Not yet,” he replies, smooth and certain.

“Not yet?" you repeat. "Levi, we have an entire army of goddamn titans on our—”

“I said not yet,” he coolly bites. “I’ll handle them.”

You know he will.

You just don’t want him to go up against them on his own.

Suddenly someone from the right side of the formation ignites their ODM gear, and they swoop overhead.

Blonde hair whooshes straight by the team and into the forest thick.

Penelope is the first to pull the trigger.

“I’m gonna get ahead of the curve and attack!” she calls, zipping through the trees towards some of the smaller titans.

Levi says nothing, but Miro shouts to their own squad: 

“That wasn’t the plan! Damn it, Penelope!”

Her body rounds one of the tree trunks and heads right, disappearing.

Say something.

Say anything.

If that thing that killed Max is how an Abnormal moves, then Penelope doesn't stand a chance on her own.

You speak to him again. "Captain—”

“Not yet, James.”

“Penelope is going to get killed!” you argue, your grip on the reigns tightening.

“That’s the choice she made,” Captain Levi argues in return, sounding a little too much like Commander Erwin in the moment. “Remain steady and wait for my signal.”

Twigs fold and crackle under new weight to your right.

Then a thud shakes the straight through the horses and into you.

Penelope must have taken down at least one normal titan.

“Captain!”

Miro shouts in the middle of the squad.

“Should we engage? My squad can take care of the titans and carve a path forward!”

There is a tense, pregnant pause.

Everyone waits for Levi's instruction.

Two smaller titans walk directly towards the horses.

The dark-haired man's nostrils flare with decision.

“I’m going to take down the two ahead,” Levi shouts, effortlessly swinging a boot to the saddle of his horse.

With the muscles of his thigh he pushes until both boots are surfing against his running horse.

His black hair blows wildly in the wind. Like a well-oiled machine, he pushes back his cloaks to reveal his ODM gear, readying for deployment.

"Miro, take your squad and eliminate the enemies flanking us. You can come back to us once you're finished."

“What about the rest of us, sir?” calls Oluo.

Levi’s eyes narrow at the enemies ahead.

“My squad will keep the horses going. We need to make it to the end of this forest, for humanity's sake."

"And Captain, what about Penelope?" you quickly ask.

"She's a lost cause, Lieutenant."

He speaks with that coldness he's been forced to adopt ever since your days in the Underground.

"We can't go back for her."

You turn to watch as Miro squad disengages formation and turns around, charging bravely towards the crowd of titans forming behind.

An array of shapes and sizes await their swords.

(Or their flesh.)

Any minute now and it could be a bloodbath.

Any minute—

Levi flies off of his horse, trapezing through the trees.

A gas trail from how hard his gear is working is your only indicator for where he is at such a height.

He twirls with the shine of his unsheathed swords, slashing the napes of the two large titans ahead.

A victory.

Except it's a short-lived victory, because you hear it behind you— 

Miro squad.

They're in trouble.

Even from this distances you hear Cesca, Rini, and Orin scream and panic.

Scouts fly between tree branches with smoke trailing behind. ODM gear ignites and retracts without any real clear sense of direction.

They're drowning back there.

You see the silhouette of someone falling to the forest floor.

"One of us needs to help them," you tell Eld, and he shakes his head sharply.

"You heard Captain Levi."

"They're two fucking Scouts down, Eld!" you snap at your comrade. "We'll lose seven whole people!"

"We can't go against captain's orders, Lieutenant!" Petra calls to you, and Oluo nods beside her.

Scanning your squad still soldiering ahead with the plan, you feel something grip your heart.

Yet another gut-wrenching shriek sounds from the forest.

Maybe it's Penelope.

Maybe it's Cesca.

The voices reverberate and echo through the forest that it's hard to tell.

You don't even realize that you're moving your hands over your cloak to push it out of the way.

Eighty to forty.

"The hell are you doing!?"

The clipped tone of Levi Ackerman as he drops back onto his stallion rips you back into focus.

His knee drops to the saddle, facing his soldiers rather than what's ahead.

Your eyes meet narrowed gray.

"I can help," you tell him calmly. "They're going to die."

"Stay."

"They're going to die, Le—"

"Stay, Lieutenant." Levi's nostril's flare. "That's an order."

Miro squad's screams continue to haunt your subconscious.

You promised.

You said you'd stay by his side.

But isn't this what the Scout Regiment is for?

To save humanity, to give them hope.

It used to be something you felt was such a crock of shit, but you can't ignore the screams back there.

You can't let them die.

"I'm going to help them," you tell him without a tremor. "You know I can do it."

Levi's eyes flash with an indiscernible emotion.

"We'll all come back in one piece. I'll guide them to the horses."

"No."

"And we'll make it to the end of this fucking forest."

You stare back at him, pleading a forgiveness you haven't asked for yet.

(You saved me once. Let me save them.)

"If you go," he growls, "James, if you go, I'll—"

"I'll take whatever punishment fits my crime," you cut him off, "but I can't let them all die."

His pupils shrink, sharpening the whites of his eyes.

The wheeze of ODM gear bursts into life as it lifts you off of your saddle and into the forest sky.

Without thinking, you twist at the hip and take off—

You head south towards the screaming squad as they fight to break free from the titan hoard holding them hostage.

Wind freezes your cheeks.

The outlines of their bodies grow more pronounced the closer you become.

Soon you see five Scouts flying around, swinging their swords to destroy the last remaining titan.

Below are a cluster of smaller dead ones decaying by the second.

Trina, Miro's second-in-command, screams at the top of her lungs as she reaches out to her comrades.

"Help! Please, I don't want to be eaten! Please!"

She's stuck in the clutches of a ten-meter titan, slowly bringing her closer and closer to its open mouth.

They’re everywhere.

(How did everything go so wrong so fast?)

You don't think about dying. You don't worry about how upset Levi will be when you return. You don't stop to second guess your actions. 

You don’t.

You just do.

Yelling at the top of your lungs, you rip both blades from their metallic sheaths at your hips.

Spinning from the momentum of your swing, you slice straight through the wrist of the titan holding Trina hostage.

She falls with enough smarts to break her fall with her own gear.

“James!” Trina cries out with equal parts despair and relief. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you were all okay," you tell them, shaking your head. "I guess you didn't really need back-up. We still have your horses..."

But you trail off, confused.

They should be relieved.

They killed every last titan back here.

Yet the Miro squad cling to the trees, skin as translucent as ghosts.

"Something big ate Penelope!" Cesca sobs, swinging her sword frantically to keep invisible outstretched fingers at bay. Her eyes are a window to nothing. As if she's curled into herself as she screams to you. "You need to—"

You're about to ask what the hell she's talking about.

But then you see it:

Climbing.

No, crawling through the trees, running like a rabid dog through the branches to eye up its prey.

A titan.

In comparison to other titans, it's practically a sun spot.

And it's so fast.

Eleven meters tall. Maybe thirteen.

You can't tell when its crouched like that.

Deformed.

Curled in on itself.

Then it halts when it sees you, blocking you from the rest of Miro squad.

A chill runs up your spine.

You stop to balance against the side of a tree trunk, staring face-to-face with your first Abnormal.

Its grin is something straight out a nightmare.

Its eyes track you, as if it...

As if it hopes you’ll flinch and begin the chase.

Shit.

You can't get around it.

You're stuck here — but the other five aren't.

“Trina, Miro, find Captain Levi,” you force yourself to speak, unable to look away from the Abnormal. “Take your squad north. Tell them you found an Abnormal."

“But—”

“I said go north, damn it,” you growl, clenching your teeth.

"What about you?" Miro asks.

“I'll be right behind you," you promise, though you damn well know you can't run straight through with your gear.

Why isn’t this titan attacking you?

Is it just waiting for you to run first?

Dedicate your heart.

No — this thing isn't going to kill you.

Max is dead. Penelope is dead.

But you came just in time to save five others.

You can save them, yourself, and this mission.

No, you won't die.

Not today.

“Go!”

Shouting at the top of your lungs, the Abnormal finally dives to attack you. 

Only when you swing past it do you realize it was waiting — not for you, no, but for an eight-meter and ten-meter with blood all over its mouth to catch up.

Not one, but three Abnormals.

Shit.

Miro and Trina gather Orin, Cesca, and Rini.

All five swing through the trees back towards where you just came from.

In the meantime, you exhaust your efforts through intense ODM defensive maneuvers to avoid getting caught in the clutches — or teeth — of the three titans.

They chase after you, using the trees to their advantage.

It's no use.

You can't outrun all three.

So you'll have to fight these assholes to find a way out.

Turning abruptly, you side-step the lurching ten-meter reaching out towards you.

With a battle cry from the gut, you scream and slice straight through the nape of its neck. 

Steam emits as it gurgles and stumbles, effectively dying on the forest floor.

One down.

Three to go.

You set your sights on the smaller titan first, gliding and sliding through the trees.

(The eleven-meter titan will be your greatest problem. You choose to make it your final priority.)

When you flip in the air, crown pointed to the ground and feet in the air, you can no longer see the bodies of Miro squad.

Only a faint trail of their gas fumes linger.

It’s just you, and the things that want to kill you.

But you won't die today.

No, you are not dying in this fucking forest.

Because you promised him.

Skating across a large tree trunk, you swan dive in the air and reattach your gear to opposite tree trunks, sights locked on the eight-meter titan.

The eight-meter monster stares directly at you, but you use its shoulder to lodge your spike directly into its flesh.

The momentum of the swing offers enough brutality to effectively rip into the nape of its neck, causing titan blood to splatter all over your body.

It stumbles, falling to the forest floor. You remain perched on its shoulder, sword extended.

Two down.

You can do this.

You can finish these titans off and meet up with the team before the mission is over.

It isn’t a lost cause.

Determined to see it through, you turn on the heel of your boot—

With a might crack of its arm, the eleven-meter knocks you clear off of the eight-meter’s shoulder and straight into the tree your gear is already attached to.

Your head hits.

The world turns into stars right before your eyes.

And before you can find yours wits and attack back—

Its fiery palm seizes your body from the tree trunk and squeezes.

The momentum nearly rips your spine in half when the Abnormal grabs you.

You gasp for air, knocked clear from your lungs.

Because you didn’t disengage your ODM line latched into the nearby tree, the sheer force of its grip on you bends your gear, forcing you to ragdoll between the points.

Shit.

The grapple of your gear won’t budge.

It won’t detract. 

The jerking movements between the manhandling of the Abnormal and your jammed gear create a perfect storm of injuries.

Pops and crunches trickle up your body, breaking bones upon bones upon bones—

You see white. 

The titan cannot get you loose from the tree, and you cannot get loose from it, so you act on pure instinct — with what little strength you have left, it stretches out and around to swipe your sword through the titans hand, narrowly missing your own chest.

One chance, and you took it.

Because not only did the sword cut through the titan, but it split the ODM line keeping you eleven meters in the air.

When you realize you can’t even breathe when the titan lets you go, you know what’s coming.

Weightless and numb of your own pain, you can feel the wind on your face, but your lungs refuse to expand.

They’re trapped from a cracked rib, and you’re out of time.

Something as bittersweet as foolish bravery crawls through your skin, burning it alive:

No one is coming.

You told Miro squad to run.

You defied orders.

—but you promised Levi you wouldn’t die.

(Is this the end of all things, right here?)

The screams and shouts echoing through your mind are not of Levi and Miro squad, no, but of your lost comrades — the ones who experienced the very same hopeless, fleeting feeling of fear right before they went.

You think of ash-blonde hair. Ginger locks.

Were Furlan and Isobel afraid?

When they couldn’t survive the Scouts, when they fought titans, did they look up at the sky just like you?

Did they know it was the end?

Were they worried they disappointed Levi?

Did they think of you, too, the way you're thinking about them?

Would they hate you for what you've done to Levi?

Four pairs of hopeful eyes walked up those Underground City stairs and into this world, yet only one will remain.

I promised.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

No screams.

No sobs.

You reach for the branches, watching the glittering sun through the canopy of trees, but you cannot touch them.

There is nothing you can do.

I’m sorry.

You continue to reach for the sky like you’ll catch on something without strength.

Your adrenaline-addled mind runs through so many memories—

The fighting rings of the Underground City;

The dream of leaving this place;

The feeling of the sun on bare skin;

Him.

Levi Ackerman.

Captain of the Scout Regiment. Humanity’s Strongest.

Your best friend.

The love of your life.

The boy who saved you, over and over, until—

“James!”

Suddenly your body reacts with a pained, strangled gasp.

The beauty of the sun disappears when a dark, oval silhouette overtakes it.

A brilliant shimmer of emerald billows around it.

It twirls and slashes the nape of the eleven-meters neck before pivoting south.

Towards you.

The silhouette nears at supernatural speeds, a trail of gas zipping in its wake—

It’s a man.

His gaze is overtaken by the whites of his eyes.

With how fast he’s descending from the tree tops, it’s a miracle he ducks and dodges every rogue branch.

His black hair is pinned to the sides of his head. The terror is written all over his face.

That face…

Levi.

You can’t speak, but you instinctively reach for his hand.

He grits his teeth, willing his body to fall faster. He breaks a barrier and soars closer to your orbit.

“Stay with me!” Levi shouts, voice determined and strong. “I’ll catch you!”

But you’ve been falling for what feels like hours, and he’s caught you so many times in the past.

When you struggled with ODM gear training, Levi would be the one to spot your fall. Every time, without failure.

But it wasn't his duty to catch you.

It wasn't his duty to come back for you.

He reaches out a hand, teeth clenched, but his fingertips just barely miss yours.

"Shit. C'mon, James, reach!"

He's getting desperate.

You've never seen him desperate.

The ground must be close.

Is it close?

(I’m sorry.)

You wish you could tell him. 

You wish you had the strength, the breath, to do so. 

(I'm sorry.)

You failed him.

You didn’t listen.

You should have listened.

With what little strength is left in your both, you roll your shoulder forward to send your hand towards his.

Your fingertips touch again, but he can’t quite grasp you. 

(But then so many others would have died. An entire squad of seven in a formation of fourteen instead of just three. Isn’t that what the Scouts are supposed to fight for, Levi? Isn’t that why we work so damn hard to achieve this dream for humanity?)

His breath hitches.

His eyes explode.

Because he knows what’s coming, too.

“James!”

A sorrowful breath that should be his name exits your mouth.

(Levi, I’m so sorry. I love—)

The back of your head slams into the ground.

A sickening thud.

A lost gasp of air.

The world goes black.

.

.

.

.

.

  Why did you do it?

Do what?

.

.

.

.

.

  “James!”

A baritone voice shouts your name.

It’s guttural, echoing with desperation. Fear.

.

.

.

.

.

  You gave me a second chance.

.

.

.

.

.

  The man dives through the trees at an otherworldly pace.

Arms pressed tight to his sides, he expertly zig-zags through an array of branches, propelling his body forward.

His emerald cloak billows from behind in an angelic halo.

As he nears, you can make out the whites of his widened eyes.

Instinctively, your hand reaches for him—

A certain sort of deja vu—

Then it hits.

.

.

.

.

.   Because where you go, I follow.

.

.

.

.

.

  Something heavy crashes straight into your body.

Two strong arms envelope you.

A palm cradles the back of your head.

Metallic gear wheezes, straining against its mechanics when your side hits solid ground.

Over and over, you spin at lightning speed.

Whatever holds you does not let go.

— then you collide with something solid, and everything just stops.

Silence.

Dirt kicks up around you in a cloud.

Twin hearts beat against each other.

Slowly you raise your hand to your shoulder—

Reaching— 

Until you find his hand.

Your shaking fingers curl over his.

.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x female reader #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #aot fic #snk fic #snk fanfic #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fic #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fic #levi x you #levi x reader #silver underground #amywritesthings

[chosos-mascara]

solace

𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙞 𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - after losing two friends, levi can't face the thought of losing you, too.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - TW! theme of depression, mention of attempted suicide, mentions of death (isabel and furlan), angst to comfort, difficult conversation between reader and levi. car accident mentioned (isabel and furlan) reader is living with levi, happy ending

please, read with caution. *an attempt is mentioned, and a brief reason as to why this happened. nothing is explicitly stated. due to the overarching theme, minors please dni.

"You're coming to stay with me." 

Levi's words echoed through your head as he turned the key, engine drowning out. The ambient droning of the car had no longer acted as a backing track to the silence the pair of you had wallowed within, unable to speak to one another as you had before. A relationship you'd considered deeply rooted had began to wither through lack of contact. 

Levi hadn't been the type to communicate clearly. This was one thing you'd learned quickly, through a hard-eyed stare and often clenched jaw, you'd struggled to win over the stoic male's trust. At times, you'd considered giving up; Isabel and Furlan had been enough, and you'd surely cope with only an acquaintanceship when it came to Levi. In the beginning, it had almost felt like you were a mistress to the pair, Levi being the original spouse. 

Over time, this had shifted. Only a year after meeting, Levi had softened to you, enough to consider you a close friend. On a few occasions, the two of you had even met without the extra members of your group, a cup of tea here and there - usually when the others had been busy. You'd allowed him space, and time, and he'd rewarded you with trust. You'd realised that Levi had been extremely thoughtful, retaining information he'd only heard you speak of in passing. Your favourite flavour of tea gifted via a secret santa gift; a lone box of chocolates found within your mailbox from an unknown sender. A brand you'd spoken of only a few nights before with Levi. 

Isabel and Furlan had been the glue of your relationship; not only the sole reason you'd met, but the reason you'd became valued members within one another's lives. Maybe, that's the reason things dwindled after their passing. 

A car accident. Rain didn't fair well on Furlan's old car, flooding in the area mixed with a bridge, and some misjudgment on a turn had somehow taken both of their lives. Levi had met you at the hospital, arms wrapping tightly around you as you'd sobbed into his neck, your cries the only conversation you'd held throughout the next few days. When you'd texted and called, he had no longer answered. Their deaths had somehow felt like his death, too. 

It wasn't entirely clear when you'd began feeling worse, but the hospital accommodated a recovery.

Hange and Erwin had brought flowers and heart-felt words (or rather, Erwin's inspirational speeches). Yet, the most unexpected visitor had been Levi. After half-assed texts and radio-silence for the better part of eight months, you hadn't expected him to show up at all - let alone wearing such a broken expression. 

He'd been pale. Bags beneath his eyes, frown lines etched into his skin, grey eyes dulled and concern painted over every feature in his face and tensed body. When seating himself beside you, he'd treated you as if you'd been carrying a highly contagious disease, an uncomfortable posture and unsure words. After some complaining from yourself, he'd grown annoyed, thin patience snapping much faster than usual before he'd announced your new, temporary living arrangements. Apparently, it had been agreed among friends and family that he'd house you until you'd be deemed safe. 

The small duffel bag you'd packed had been placed within the spare room, Levi's keys thrown in a bowl beside the door and shoes placed neatly within their allocated space. A bath had been the first part of your agenda - though he wouldn't allow this to be done alone. The agreement when bathing had been that he'd sit within the room, back to tub. When the four of you had met up previously, neither one of you had been too modest, sleepovers meaning changing in front of one another, yet with the lack of contact as of recent, your cheeks had burned when undressing behind him. 

Laying back in the bath, you let out a long sigh of relief. He'd taken the time to fill the water with bubbles, chamomile and lavender scents mingling within the water and kissing tired muscles. Silence had hung over the pair of you since reconnecting, your ears instead focused on your own breaths, or the water moving around your body. There were smooth waves with each movement, and a dripping of ripples created around you. A faint fizz of foamy bubbles popping; an urge to bring them to your face to mould a haphazard beard. You'd considered it, long and hard, yet when your lips had upturned and eyes landed on the back of Levi's head hung so lowly, wrists appearing much thinner than you'd remembered them, your heart sunk. You laid back against the porcelain, pushing back tears. 

"You should get one of those vintage roll-top baths." You spoke, a break in your voice ignored, swish of water when your arm moved upward to poke larger bubbles. Levi exhaled. You watched him shift against the floor, knees brought to chest. He rested arm to leg, with chin pressing into one folded forearm, sight facing toward the door across the room. Levi thought for a moment, mind racing while feeling empty simultaneously. 

"Why?" His voice was frail. Black hair falling forward when he hung his head, eyes squeezing shut along with his fists, though you'd been unable to witness the fight against his body's cries. Instead, you were left to raise a brow.  "Just think they're cool?" An unsure answer to the redundant question you hadn't quite understood.  "No-" Levi sighed again, this time hunching back with a hand to forehead. "Why did you do it?" 

"I-" Silence once more. Your mouth opened, breath hitching as you searched for an answer you hadn't felt qualified to give. 

"I just... I remembered her smile, and suddenly it felt like I had nothing to lose by trying." 

He broke the agreement, turning around with speed. You'd been startled, water splashing upward as you'd fought for cover beneath folded arms and scooped bubbles, jaw hanging in both shock and annoyance. Before you could voice the distaste for his actions, he'd began to speak, a desperation in his voice.  "What about me?" A tightness within your chest as he'd shouted those words. Grey gaze aimed only toward your face, painted with thick tears threatening to cascade over cheeks. Skin that had appeared sickly, thinning out. It had been clear Levi hadn't been looking after himself, though this was a fact you'd already understood. 

"Levi..." His name had been almost inaudible, words dying on your tongue when searching his expression.  "How am I supposed to grieve you, too? Why didn't you speak to me-" Levi allowed his anger to control his speech, a rage bubbling within him, originating from a deep wound cut long ago. He'd been getting to the end of his tether, too. 

"When was the last time you spoke to me, Levi?" You shot back with equal passion. The bath had grown cooler with the passing time - or perhaps your own body-heat had simply risen. "Stop acting like you were here for me when you haven't called in months." You balled a fist, teeth clenching before continuing. "You haven't even come to terms with your emotions. How could I expect you to deal with mine, too?" 

"I'm fine-"  "Really?" A malicious laugh had left your chest, disbelieving expression tormenting your features. "Overworking yourself, bottling in your feelings? How can you expect me to reach out when you haven't actually spoken to me since it happened?" The explosion had been overcome, left with only Levi's tense jaw, eyes searching yours yet finding no answer. 

Regret had plagued both of you as he'd turned back and you'd sank down, original positions assumed. Cooling, sorrow overwrote anger. Your finger had resumed to absentminded swirling of water, bubbles now mostly non-existent. 

"I miss her." A smile crept to your face as you thought of Isabel, her innocence and innate talent to make those around her happy. "She always made us laugh - even if we didn't want to." Heartfelt memories danced between you, a lifetime alongside friends as if you'd had more time. If only.  "She was good at that." He'd spoken as he'd remembered specifics, a certain set green eyes filled with excitement, a child-like stupor that had only bounced between herself and Furlan. 

That night, Levi slept. You'd insisted on sharing a bed, hand on his chest turning into your cheek pressing onto sternum, head rising and falling with his heavy breaths. He'd almost forgotten how sleeping had felt - a genuine, well-rested night. There was a time when you'd pictured the arrangement between you being temporary, and he'd been sure that he had too - but since that day, you hadn't returned home. Your home had become merged with his, your things and his things suddenly labelled as ours. Neither of you had been entirely sure when friendship had shifted into love, though you were sure it had something to do with Isabel and Furlan.

#tw depression #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot levi x reader #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman comfort #aot angst #aot levi #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fic #aot fic #levi ackerman one shot #levi aot x reader #snk levi #snk x reader

[weeabooofficial]

Eren Yeager and his Immaculate Ability to be a Nuisance. -J.K. [18+]

Tags: smut, closet sex, cockblocking, Eren should be a warning on his own, dirty talk, language, modern au

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Hi, hello. I'm not fucking dead like y'all thought. 2023 threw me for a loop with my writing, and then I had every intention of posting this for my birthday, back in July (If that tells you how long I have had this sitting in my docs). And then I wanted to post this in celebration of the finale of AoT coming out...

and then I fucking hated how it ended and had a four hour long rant over it.

So here we are in 2024, and I am finally posting this. Big thanks to my bff (best fishy friend) @offendedfishnoises for helping me with this all those months ago.

Eren Yeager must have thought he was a fucking genius, a comedic genius. Why else would he keep pulling the same bullshit over and over? 

It all started when you first met Jean, your friend was throwing a party at her apartment and you decided to go. The two of you met, and hit it off really well. So well in fact, that you and Jean were officially dating by the end of the month. 

Everyone seemed happy for you, everyone but one person. 

That person just so happened to be, Eren fucking Yeager. 

You and Eren had been friends for years, since you were children. It was only a matter of time before he took you getting into a relationship with the person he loved to annoy most, personally. To you, Eren took everything personally but that was just the way he seemed. 

Eren cared for you, he really did. Growing up together, as close as friends could be, he just wanted you to be taken care of. 

However, it wasn’t his fault that his favorite pastime was pissing Jean off to no end. 

You didn’t notice what he was doing at first, it being the occasional interruption while you were having a moment with your boyfriend, but it only escalated from there. 

It was Sasha’s annual Christmas Party, everyone in your friend group was invited and then some; to include you and Jean. The snow was falling, and the two of you were curled up together on the couch in front of the warm fire. 

Jean’s hand rested on your thigh, just wanting to keep you close. Your head was on his shoulder, inhaling his warm, musky scent that made your nerves tingle. 

You didn’t even get five minutes alone together before Eren came in with a plate filled with sweets and squeezed himself in between the two of you on the couch. 

This was fine, you told yourself. Eren was always like this, but that was before it got worse. 

By the end of the night, not only was Eren between you; but Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, Reiner, Annie, Berdtholdt, everyone you knew was squished between you and Jean, forcing you on opposite ends of the couch with the arms digging into your side as they chatted away. 

Jean shot you a look from the other side of the room, a sorrowful smile on his face. It wasn’t like you could actually do anything to stop all of them from sitting between you, but you knew exactly what they were doing. 

Eren was making it his life’s mission to make sure you and Jean didn’t have a moment alone together, and you didn’t realize how bad it would get until it was too late. 

No matter where you were, at work, the store, even at your apartment, every time you and Jean tried to do more than share a kiss, Eren was there butting his way in. 

Of course, Jean was angry and rightfully so. All he wanted to do was share a moment alone with you, and he was starting to get desperate. 

“Babe, this is getting fucking ridiculous. He is your friend. Stop him.” 

You stopped folding the shirt in your hands and gave Jean a look, “You’re friends with him too dumbass, besides what makes you think he will listen to me?” 

Putting the shirt he had in the stack, Jean shrugged. “I dunno, I thought you would maybe scare the shit out of him like you do everyone else.” 

“I do not–” 

“Connie and Sasha refused to talk to you for the first week you scared them so bad.” 

You gave Jean an unimpressed look. “That’s because I told them to stay out of my pantry, it’s not a free for all.” 

A grin found its way on Jean’s face. “But you’ll let me into your pantry,” Wrapping his arms around your waist, he waggled his eyebrows giving you that look. 

Before he got any further, you shoved his head away with your palm on his face. “Any chance you had getting laid tonight, ended with that comment.” 

Jean looked at you with a pout on his lips, “Aw come on babe, you know you can’t resist me.” 

“I can and will,” you hummed, continuing to fold the clothes. 

You loved Eren, you really did. Even when he was being a little shit, you cared for him like a brother.

But that love was dwindling, and it was dwindling fast. 

There was only so much you could take, between your job at the office and Jean’s at the family company, you almost never saw each other. That left no time to talk, not time together and no time for romance. 

And with Eren making his presence known every single fucking time you were close to doing anything, your patience was wearing thin. 

Jean was just as desperate as you were, so when you showed up one day with lunch wearing a tight little skirt and killer heels to match, Jean all but dragged you to the closest closet and locked the door. 

His lips were on yours in a matter of seconds as he bunched the bottom of your skirt towards your hips. 

Jean’s touch on your thighs was like fire, with weeks of denial igniting it within you. Prying your mouth open with his own, Jean slotted his hips between yours as he swallowed each little sound you made. 

“Fuck–” you gasped against his lips, feeling his cock grind against your heat through his pants. The rough material adding friction to the area which desperately needed attention. 

“Jean please–” you begged, hands gripping the back of his shirt pulling at the material as if it was personally offending you. 

With a hand still holding you against the wall, Jean made quick work of undoing the belt of his pants before popping the button and pulling the zipper. 

“Hold on baby, I’ll take care of you.” Shoving his pants down just enough, his cock sprung out of his pants slapping against the skin of your thigh. Jean moved the string of your thong aside and swiped his fingers through your folds. 

A gasp tore through you, your body jolting in his hold. 

“Fuck–” he choked, feeling your slick pool between your thighs. “This pussy is already so wet for me, you that desperate for my cock?” 

His breath fanned over your face as you ground your hips against his hands, pulling at the hairs on the nape of his neck as he thrusted two digits into your cunt. 

“Jean–Jean please!” you begged, looking up at him with those pleading eyes that had him so weak, he’d do whatever you wanted. 

Banging his fist against the wall, Jean couldn’t ignore the doe-eyed look you had. So sweet, so innocent, when he knew you were anything but in the privacy of your own home. 

Jean knew the way you looked when you were bent over, taking his cock round after round begging him for more; to fill you with his hot cum to the point it spilled out around his shaft. Jean knew the way you looked, when you were on your knees sucking his cock like it was your day job. The way your pretty lashes fluttered up at him as you made sinful movements with that devilish tongue of yours that had him bucking his hips making you gag around him. 

It was the same way you were looking at him, and he had barely touched you. 

Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Jean thought of making you wait this long again if it got you looking like this for him once more. 

Using his hips, and other hand, Jean hoisted you higher up his hips before thrusting into you. The sounds you made made his head spin, fuck you sounded to pretty too. Biting his fist that was against the wall, Jean held in his moans as he watched you absolutely lose it finally being able to feel him this deeply within you. 

You paid no mind to the uncomfortable feeling of your skirt pressing against your stomach as you began to rock your hips, wordlessly trying to convince him to go deeper. 

“Fuck–, missed this pussy so bad.” his breath tingled against your ear, wracking your body in shudders as he continued to thrust his hips, stretching you to take his cock.

Your moans filled the closet, the soft grunts Jean made in your ear as he fucked you for the first time in what felt like forever. Hands grabbing at whatever you could reach, you pulled his lips down to yours, senses filled with the smell of his cologne and the taste of his morning coffee on his tongue as it bullied its way into your mouth, laying his claim on you. 

Jean’s hand moved from your waist, to the button up blouse you were wearing. “Wanna see these pretty tits baby–” he gasped between kisses. “Wanna hold them, play with them, squeeze them. You’d like that, yeah?” 

All you could manage was a nod as Jean ripped the buttons of your blouse open, a few popping off and landing on the floor. Neither of you cared, as he hastily pulled your bra down your shoulders and chest until he could grasp your tits in his hands. 

The sounds from the hall outside were drowned out by the blood pumping in your ears, not caring one bit who heard Jean fucking you senseless in a tiny closet. The two of you were so lost in the feeling of each other's bodies, you didn’t notice the lock get picked with the handle slowly turning before you were blinded by light coming in from the hall. 

Jean quickly used his body to cover yours, keeping your dignity intact not caring about his one bit. 

Over his shoulder, you saw the face of Eren Fucking Yeager and the slight smirk in his face when he realized what he caught the two of you doing. 

“I was wondering where–” 

“Get the fuck out Yeager,” Jean hissed, grateful that his arms were filled with you so he couldn’t turn around and knock his teeth in. 

“Oh come on, Jean. You don’t want to share?” 

That was your last straw. 

“Eren, get lost or I will rip your dick off and feed it to the dogs.” 

You watched the expression on his face morph from his usual cocky confidence, to a flicker of fear. It was a far-fetched threat, sure, but with the death glare you were giving him, Eren wasn’t sure if you were serious or not. 

And he didn’t want to find out. 

Clearing his throat, Eren suddenly looked away before shutting the closet. “Carry on,” before you heard it lock once again. 

Only taking a few seconds to recover, Jean readjusted his grip on you before looking down at you with a grin. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think with the way your pussy tightened around my dick that you actually liked getting caught.” 

Immediately, your face got hot. Shaking your head, you opened your mouth to respond before it was cut off with Jean grabbing your jaw at an angle that kept your mouth open. 

“Don’t bother lying baby, I know you liked it.” 

Your eyes widened at the look on his face, squirming under his heated gaze. “No I–” 

“Maybe I should fuck you in my office next time,” he hummed. Within moments, Jean pulled out of you before flipping your body around and thrusting into you from behind. “Bend you over the desk, taking you like this for hours as everyone around us hears how well you take my cock, hm?” 

Bracing yourself on the wall, you couldn’t ignore the way your walls fluttered around his dick when he said those words. 

Jean chuckled, wrapping his arms around you pressing his hips into your ass as he fondled your tits. Enjoying the little gasp you let out feeling him tug on your nipples, you arched into his touch feeling a hand travel up your chest and throat before forcing two of his fingers in your mouth. 

“Maybe, I could have you suck me off with this pretty little tongue of yours.” Your mouth was forced open, his fingers pressing down on your tongue refusing to let your moans be softened. Jean wanted to hear every sound you made, as he speared you open on his dick. 

The moans you let out had Jean cursing, his hips stuttering as he got close to the edge. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Sucking me off under my desk as you hump my foot, desperate for me to touch you?” 

You tried pleading with him, your orgasm so close now that you were incoherent. A couple more thrusts of his hips as you choking out his name as your orgasm washed over you in a violent wave of ecstasy, coating his dick in the creamy white substance. 

“Fuck, baby. Just a little more and I’ll fill you so full, it’ll drip down your legs.” 

The debauched moan you let out was drowned out by Jean’s grunts and growls as he kept pistoning his hips against yours, before he came with a loud cry, burying himself to the hilt making sure you took every drop of his seed. 

As the room quieted down, you heard his breaths in your ear as Jean pressed kisses to your shoulder. 

“You–,” he panted, “You are so fucking amazing baby.” 

You were at a loss for words, nothing on your mind but how good it felt to be filled by Jean. Tilting your face to look at him, Jean smiled down at you while his bangs hung in his face. “I love you so fucking much,” 

Smiling against his lips, you hummed in agreement. “I love you, too.”

Tag list: Because I must bully you all with my writng, suck it up and love me anyway. @pinksthetics @awalkingshame @hex-the-rabbit @meowzfordayz @nanaoise08squad@loafingdragon @narakussy

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