Look At Me
Attack on Titan - Levi x Reader || smut, I tried to keep Reader gender neutral, facefucking, "good girl"
Levi’s fingers tangle in your hair, gripping hard, pulling at your scalp.
“Look at me,” he demands with a rough voice, desire evident in the hoarse words. “Look at me while you taste me.”
You obey. It’s a struggle but you always obey. Eventually, anyway. His lust makes your mouth water as you open wide for him, taking as much of the head in your mouth as you can while still maintaining eye contact. He knows you’re struggling, but the way you push yourself to obey him drives him even crazier with desire than he already was. You moan around him, taking more of his cock in your mouth, your tongue dancing against the underside of his shaft as you try to relax. Eventually it’s all too much and your eyes flutter shut. He pulls at your hair again, and you look back at him with a groan.
“Good girl, keep looking at me,” Levi moans. “You just sit there looking pretty and let me do all the work, okay?”
He thrusts in your mouth and the way he inhales sharply as you gag on him is enough to have you pulsating, your stomach doing flips for him. You focus hard on his eyes even as the tears well in your own. His other hand strokes your cheek. The contrast between his two hands, the pain and pleasure, has your head and heart reeling. He has you so weak as your drool coats your chin.
He uses your mouth like this, whispering sweet words of encouragement. He loves when you’re so good for him, loves the way you please him. It doesn’t take long before his fingers are tightening in your hair, pulling almost too painfully, but you persevere in pursuit of his pleasure. He pulls out and that sweet nectar shoots onto your tongue and skin. He’s breathing heavily, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon to get to you. His fingers finally loosen their grip, his eyes softening. The way he looks down at you, so full of love and affection, has you melting.
He drops to his knees in front of you, lips immediately finding your own. He loves that he can taste himself on your tongue. You’re his. You’re all his. Even as his nose smears his cum over your skin he doesn’t flinch away, holding you against him for what feels like an eternity.
When he pulls back you dart in, kissing his nose clean and smiling gently at him. He watches you with wonder.
Stroking your hair, his lips tug up in the tiniest smile. “You’re so beautiful,” Levi tells you. And, although it took you a lifetime to get there, you certainly feel it with him.
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Eddie only just was able to get the barman's permission to perform this night, and glad he is for it, as his pockets have weighed lighter than ever before in his life. He'd be pleased to find pay in a tankard or loaf tonight, anything to fill his aching belly.
But he's lucky as the men and women here seem to be in high spirits. The land has long been in war since the king's death, rotten bastard he may have been. Eddie hadn't been sad to see him go, but the chaos that followed had ruined the smallfolk in consequence since their coward prince had fled the scene of his crime. The king had been cruel, but still he'd been their king, and the common people spit on the prince's name still, even when some new royal's been crowned and brought peace with him.
And that kind of ire is what feeds Eddie on nights like this.
"Kingslayer, kingslayer, little Prince Steven has run," he sings, bawdy and loud as the crowd of men around him sing along. "Run up the hills and past the sun, took our king Phillip and gutted him plain, our kingslayer Prince Steven, a coward more than a maid!"
They sing along with him, hooting and hollering all to the end of it, and pay him in copper coins and ale that Eddie takes happily, slurping it down as he rests by the fire.
It's then he sees the table in the corner, the cloaked figures surrounding it, and the woman glaring daggers at him. But more interesting than that is the most beautiful man Eddie's ever seen, smiling at him wearily, eyes bright and interested and a little sad. Eddie's got no fear of a quick tumble with dangerous men, so he takes his gittern and his ale and makes his way quickly to them.
"Fair night, weary travelers," Eddie crows as he wiggles himself between the woman and the beautiful man. "What brings you so far out from the capitol?"
The lot of them regard him with mixed interest, the older man not even looking up and a girl with firey hair treating him with a sign of boredom.
"What business is yours to know, bard?" she says, already turning her nose off to watch the rowdy tavern beyond their table.
"None at all," Eddie says, leaning into the man beside him, slinging an arm over his broad shoulder to feel the heat of him beneath his cloak. "I'm here to do nothing but entertain tonight, and I fear I've bored your table to tears! I do take requests you know, for the right coin."
This he says to the man under his arm, leaning in closer to get a good look at those pretty brown eyes in the dim light of the fire.
"We have no coin for you, sot," says the woman beside them, ire evident in her tone. "Be gone with you—"
"No coin, that's true," says Eddie's beautiful man. He smiles at Eddie now, pearly teeth and pretty lips, and Eddie would sing him any song for nothing more than to keep those eyes on him. "You'll have to forgive us, we're not good company I'm afraid."
"Richer company wouldn't be as sweet as yours, dove," Eddie tells him, watching the pink of his cheeks darken.
There's a gagging sound from across the table, and its then that Eddie realizes he's in the company of striplings. Two girls in men's clothes, both of them are young in the face and barely past their majorities. Yet still they are travel-worn, all five of them: the two girls, the woman and the dour man, and the beautiful budde under Eddie's arm.
Chuckling, he says to Eddie, "A wag you are, bard, with such empty words. Do you flirt so with all poor men you find?"
"None are poorer than me, sweeting, and none are more enchanting than you. It is payment enough just to look at you, and I would sing for an age and fill my empty stomach with just your smile, or your taste if you'd grant me—"
"Gods damned!" the woman Eddie's other side gusts. "I cannot hear another foul word." She stands then, and the two girls follow, one rolling her eyes and the other giggling quitely. The woman leans past Eddie and hisses into her companion's ear, "Be done with this fool swiftly, or I'll leave you to the wolves."
"You'd never," he says back to her, smiling at Eddie, face flushed pretty and dark even as he speaks.
"Hopper would never," she says tilting her head at the remaining dour man still sitting at the table, deep into his cups and paying no mind to any around them. "But I would sell you for tanner and a duck to the first bidder."
"I'm worth at least an ox," he tells her with a cocky grin, and Eddie might want more than just one tumble with this man. "Find a room and I'll find you when I please to."
She huffs and stomps off, the girls on her heels.
"So," Eddie breathes, leaning even further into this beautiful man, until his voice is a secretive whisper, just for the two of them to hear. "Tell me, sweeting, what shall I call you when I write songs of your beauty to sing across the land, until kings beg me to their courts to recount your grace, your smile and your laugh?"
This man, to Eddie's displeasure, seems to wilt, to grow weary once more, even as he smiles and leans close, his words scarcely a breath against the shell of Eddie's ear.
"If it pleases you, and I'm sure that it won't," he confesses. "You can call me Steven."
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