clefairymuke

>levi ackerman

degradation/humiliation, name calling, impact play, biting/marking, choking/breathplay, bondage, honorifics, dumbification, overstimulation, gagging, facefucking/throatfucking, hair pulling, exhibitionism

in short, i think levi is NASTY. i know he's reserved and stoic and blah blah blah whatever, but men are totally different in the bedroom. my skinny, nerdy, introverted, reserved, stoic, autistic boyfriend fucks the shit out of me. so.

>honorifics, degradation/humiliation, name calling, exhibitionism

there is no such thing as sex with levi if he's not the one in charge. even on the rare occasion that he makes love to you, you tend to not have much say — he always picks the positions, the location, the speed. . . everything. scratch that— he may let you choose the music. the perfect man for indecisive pillow princesses (such as yours truly). i source this from the fact that he's a big fan of asserting his authority and general ability to kick anybody's ass.

exhibit a:

exhibit b:

as far as canonverse goes, i always imagine that he would love hearing you say his name more at first, just since he's so commonly referred to as captain. but later in your relationship when the title is reintroduced — perhaps it slips out of your mouth when he's bent you over his desk or fucked you in his tent during a long scouting mission — it drives him fucking crazy. modern!levi loves it when you call him daddy; i picture a big age gap in every fic for obvious reasons, and daddy!levi just hits different. he tends to be incredibly condescending as is, so the years of distance between you doesn't make that any easier for you. and he just loves that. regardless of whether it's canonverse/au, he always has a handsome affinity for sir.

levi isn't going to be nice to you. he's constantly insulting others, especially people he loves — and i like to think he doesn't leave that horrible attitude at the bedroom door. he'd call you endearing names like slut, whore, and bitch, always preceded by the possessive pronoun my. stupid, dumb, and useless are some of his favorite adjectives. making fun of you is second nature, but he can pull it back if things get particularly passionate.

if there's one thing i know, it's that levi loves to show you off. he's absolutely the type to fuck you against a window, finger you under the table at a restaurant, or invite his friends over for dinner and a show. he'd never let them touch you, of course, but he enjoys the fact that they all want to. more than that, it's the humiliation of it all— he'd love asking them what they think as he undresses you just to make your cheeks go red, or pulling your hair until your head is at just the right angle to look them in the eyes while you cum.

>bondage, impact play, biting/marking, hair pulling

levi is a masochist. he wants absolute control over you in the bedroom, and it's very easy to anger him when you aren't following his every command. it's only natural he'd like to dish out a punishment or two to remind you of your place.

even when you're particularly good for him, it doesn't take away from the primal urge to remind you who you belong to. levi is extremely possessive. you don't have to offend him to leave the bedroom with an array of bruises, hickeys, and bite marks— it's all an integral part of spending any amount of time underneath him.

there isn't much room for anything but levi's desires when he has you tied up, which is frequent. nothing too intricate or tedious, of course— but you can expect your hands to be bound behind your back with his tie or belt any time he has you bent over long enough to think about it.

>facefucking/throatfucking, gagging, overstimulation, dumbification

giving you any bit of control is inconceivable. levi would much prefer to use your mouth than let you do it yourself. with that comes a few more of his favorite things: listening to you gag and watching your eyes well up with tears.

Confidence had never been a problem before, second-guessing his choices unheard of, but that was before you. Before he allowed himself, in an unforgivably drunken stupor no less, to pursue some ridiculous semblance of a relationship with a student— with his only student, at that. Before the incisors of childish jealousy sank deep into his neck and forced its venom to course through his veins. Before you showed him that perhaps there are things in this world even he can’t handle. Now, since you, all he has the energy to do is think, and rethink, and rethink again.

He takes a deep, ragged breath, straightening himself then punching his thumb into the intercom button on the wall. “Hange,” he starts, voice husky with frustration, “bring a pot of tea to my study. Don’t stick around.”

“You got it, boss.”

Levi’s hair is still dripping onto his face as he sips the chamomile from the dainty teacup at his desk. He stares angrily at the blank document in front of him, as if he’s trying to intimidate it into spontaneously populating with the words that seem to escape him. He thought he was immune to slumps. Thirty years of his life he’d had something to behold, something he needed the entire world to read; the last few months, however, have been void of any substance at all. This is the one problem he can’t blame on you.

Deadlines stalk him viciously, interrogators in their own right, begging him for something to consume with a disgusting quickness. He has nothing to give them. Lately he’s questioned if he ever will again.

He considers calling you. Asking for your thoughts instead of assaulting you with his. As soon as the idea crosses his mind, he’s only frustrated with himself again, and yet, his hand still gravitates toward his cell phone. Levi allows his thumb to hover over your name for only a second before scoffing under his breath and tossing the device to the side. At this moment, he makes a decision. It’s one he may not like, but one that needs to be made nonetheless. It’s time to pull back from you.

-

YOU

You don’t hear from Levi again until Tuesday morning rolls around. Trying not to let it bother you proves impossible as you stress over your appearance before the meeting, which is something you hadn’t worried much about in the past. You spend a painstaking amount of time mulling over your outfit for the day.

You’d stayed up all night editing your pages, which is turning into quite the habit. It’s astounding how one heated meeting and a single date could send you down such a spiral of inspiration, and you more than appreciate this unexpected surprise. Sleep escapes you these days; all that comes to you in the night is your work. You hope your dedication doesn’t escape Levi’s devouring glare, but you fear it will in light of his recent lack of communication. Still, you find yourself significantly less afraid of your advisor-slash-fling for once— perhaps he won’t be so cruel after finding his way into your pants. 

An hour later, when your warm smile crashes headfirst into his icy glare, you realize you might have been dead wrong. You remain confident— he feeds on fear and humiliation, after all— and chirp out a friendly greeting. His eyes soften for only a second before freezing over again.

“Good morning,” Levi says smoothly, opening the door a bit further to allow you into his office. You allow your shoulder to brush his chest just barely as you pass, fighting the urge to do it with your hand, instead. 

“You look nice today,” you tell him as the door clicks shut. “How was your week?”

“Do you have any pages, or did you think I scheduled this meeting to chit chat?” he snaps, rounding his desk and sitting down without meeting your eyes.

His tone admittedly ruffles your feathers, but you let it roll off your back, fishing the manila folder out of your purse and leaning forward to lay it on the desk. “I’m proud of them,” you say, eyes flitting back and forth as nerves begin to overtake you, eager to look anywhere but his smoky eyes. “I hope you will be, too.”

He takes the folder without a word, ten minutes of silence besides the turning of pages and his pen scribbling in the margins. You cross and uncross your legs a hundred times, palms sweating as a familiar dread settles over your weak shoulders. At least it hasn’t hit the shredder yet, you tell yourself. Anything is better than that. 

“I like it,” he says, and that’s all. You wait for more to come from his mouth, lips parted as if there’s something else on his mind, something threatening to slip despite his protests, but Levi remains stubborn and quiet.

You aren’t sure what to reply with, so you decide on honesty. The man in front of you has no trouble being blunt, after all. “There’s more you want to say.”

For the first time since you’d met Levi, he seems almost timid. A few thoughtful seconds pass before he opens his mouth again. “I thought it was a mistake,” he starts, nervously tapping his fingers against the desk. “What’s been going on between you and I, I mean.”

This admission shocks you, sending a little chill up your back and making you lean forward with a need to know more. “Thought? As in past tense?”

“I’m not sure,” Levi says honestly. He meets your eyes, something he’d clearly been avoiding since you walked in that morning, and they are softer than you’ve ever seen them. “You’re writing about me, aren’t you?”

You nod, strangely unashamed. He told you to write your life. Following instructions is nothing to be embarrassed about, right?

“Keep going,” he tells you, allowing the beginnings of a smile to poke at the corners of his mouth. “It’s working.” There’s a comforting silence between the two of you as you search for a way to respond to an unnaturally kind version of Levi. You don’t have to search for long. “A lot of it is still fucking awful, of course. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done. Let’s go over some notes before you go.” There’s the Dr. Ackerman you know. That didn’t last long.

He proceeds to ream you for the next half hour, practically shredding your pages with his sharp tongue as he insults nearly every word of the piece in front of him. You’re confused on what parts of it he claims to like— the pacing is dogshit, dialogue is “stronger, but still utterly embarrassing to read,” and the plot has as much direction as a blind old woman in an unfamiliar city. You want to argue, but he gives strong, undeniable reasoning behind his cruelty. It makes you sick.

As the meeting begins to draw to a close with Levi’s rather rude ‘constructive’ criticism, you admittedly feel a bit disappointed. After the intense revelations of the past week, you’d thought things would be a little different now. Looking at his emotionless expression, you’re prepared to be kicked out crying within the next few minutes.

“Do you have anywhere to be after this?” he asks suddenly, a little light in his eyes for the first time since Wednesday. You give him a suspicious stare.

Pretending to think for a moment, you say, “No, not that I can think of.” A tingle starts between your legs, making you shuffle around in the chair a bit on an instinctive search for friction — you hope his hawk-like eyes didn’t catch that, although there’s no way they missed it. Levi never, ever takes them off of you, it seems. One side of his mouth turns up in a smirk.

He motions you over with a jerk of his chin. “Come here.” Three hollow taps sound through the room as he pats the desk six inches away, directing you where he wants you. You can’t deny that you went racier with your outfit than you typically would — a low-cut sweater paired with a less-than-mini skirt — but you don’t let yourself get flustered as you stand and brush off your legs.

Once you’ve settled on the cool, oak desk in front of him, careful not to let your gaze waver from his eyes even as the wildfires start to spark up, a tingle starts to run up your spine. The cool, smoke-infused tone of his perceptive irises is so cold you could shiver, even though your own eyes burn from the contact alone. You swallow once before speaking — things never go your way when the arrogant man just a half foot away sets the tone. “You never asked me how things went with Reiner,” you say. 

Levi’s eyebrow cocks up a millimeter as he looks up at you, hands folded over his stomach as he relaxes into the black leather chair. “I assumed he got the message. Was there more to it?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. You frown.

“I mean, no. He hasn’t spoken to me since then,” you respond, breath catching in your throat for half a second as his hand comes to rest on your knee. The calluses on his fingers brush over your skin softly, and you find yourself wondering if they’re from typing or holding a pen. Your eyes flutter down to examine his clean, slender hands before shooting back to his face.

“Do you want him to?” Levi questions smoothly, no indication of tone or expression to aid you in interpreting his reasoning.

“Well, no. Not really,” you answer honestly, chewing on the inside of your lip. Heart beating in time with Dr. Ackerman’s thumb brushing over your knee, you feel your cheeks begin to grow warmer.

His eyes get warmer, too. “And why not?”

It only takes a second for you to feel the shift, but you go from forcing yourself to maintain eye contact with the intimidating soul before you to losing the ability to pull your gaze away from him. His pitch-colored hair falls just above the sharp, knee-buckling glare of steel eyes — between them, Levi’s narrow nose comes to a neat, up-turned point that shadows his perpetually frowning pink lips. His chin and jaw follow the same chiseled theme, projecting the awe-inspiring feeling one derives from pristine marble likenesses of Greek gods; the leather chair morphs to a throne of skulls, and you consider how fitting it would be to replace Cheryl with the much less vicious, three-headed Cerberus. A skip interrupts your steadily beating heart as one corner of Dr. Ackerman’s mouth turns up in a smirk. You’ve always had a soft spot for the villains, haven’t you?

You gulp. “He’s just not my type. We don’t have anything in common,” you say softly, the flames licking up in his eyes just short of entrancing you. Chills travel up the sensitive skin inside of your thigh as his fingers trail higher on your bare leg, making your chest swell with anticipation. “I think I prefer intellectuals,” you add, courage seeping through your pores with every electric shock, “and darker hair.”

“I think you just prefer me,” Levi corrects you boldly, expression unwavering as his confidence. A soft breeze stings against the feverish skin between your legs as he flips back the hem of your skirt, fingertips brushing the fabric of your panties as blood rushes to your cheeks.

“No, that’s not quite it,” you tease, dishing back for once — Dr. Ackerman hasn’t thrown you out of his office yet, so you figure it’s well received. That’s as much of an indication as you’re likely to get from him. “I know your type, though: young blondes with no shame. I’ve seen a few take the walk of shame through the waiting room.”

Levi chuckles, sharp canines poking out over his supple lips. “And are you shameless, too?” he inquires, a hint of mockery pervading over his steely tone.

“You get off on the fact that I’m not,” you quip, eyes flickering to his grinning mouth. “I can only assume that’s why I’m the exception. But I would never let you mark me up like that before I walked through the waiting room.”

The fires in his eyes blaze a hundred times hotter, an arrogant expression overtaking his features as he pinches your thigh playfully. “What would you be willing to wager on that?”

A tinge of curiosity pulses through your mind in tandem with the wave of heat between your legs. “What would you want if you won?”

There isn’t any hesitation as Levi opens his mouth, tongue sliding quickly over his lips once before he speaks. “You’ll let me take you out again. Wherever I choose.”

A little smile plays on your lips; you’d expected a much more crude request. Swinging your feet back and forth gently as you lean a bit further toward him, you toss a suspicious glare his way. “And if I win?” you inquire, raising your eyebrows.

“I’ll buy you something nice,” he answers, not detailing your prize any further. Choosing not to pry, you twist up your lips in consideration. Adding an expensive item to your bedroom and getting to fool around with Dr. Ackerman almost seems too good to be true, but you choose to give the situation the benefit of the doubt. After all, it could just end up being a wonderful day. The worst that could happen? You nervously slink through the waiting room with a hickey on your neck and get treated to a fancy dinner.

You give him a mischievous grin as you look down into his eyes, still feeling his fingers trace circles on the skin of your thighs. “I’ll take that bet.”

-

Ten minutes later, you’re kneeling before his black leather chair as Levi unbuckles his belt just in front of you. The sound of your breathing is prominent and anticipatory, skin still flushed and feverish from the feeling of his lips exploring your thighs, breasts, and throat— littering beautifully harsh love bites and hickeys in all the places you can typically cover up. He hasn’t aimed to win your little competition quite yet, but you’re beginning to think he has it in the bag. Looking at your current state, you don’t stand a chance.

Dr. Ackerman doesn’t take off any of his clothes this time— he simply undoes his slacks enough to free his length, fisting it in one hand and giving it a few slow strokes. Your mouth starts to water. “I don’t even think I can get my lips around it,” you say, half joking as you admire the long, puffy vein that runs from the base to the rosy head of his dick.

“You’re riding me, sweetheart,” Levi corrects you, running one finger gently along your jaw. “I just think you look pretty on your knees like this.” He motions at you to join him in the chair, gripping the backs of your legs to place them on either side of him as you come to sit in his lap, your noses only a centimeter apart. The head of his pulsing cock grazing against the lace crotch of your panties sends a shock through your body, making you whine out with searing need.

Your eyes find comforting heather gray as Dr. Ackerman pushes his forehead against yours, running his hands down your thighs while his shallow breaths caress your cheeks. All you can think about are his lips as they rest hanging open a half inch from your own, but he doesn’t kiss you. He just holds your gaze as his long, sinewy fingers pull the lace of your panties over to the side and his hot, impossibly thick cockhead presses lightly against your entrance. Sucking in a shallow breath, you feel the overwhelming circumference of his length compared to the rather narrow tunnel between your quivering legs. You brace yourself. “You can take it,” he murmurs, catching the shield of anxiety glossing rapidly over your eyes. 

You shake your head lightly. “I’ve never had one this big,” you say. A gasp catches in your throat as he drags the tip along your slit slowly, savoring the sight of your mouth falling open and your eyes blowing wide when he grazes your clit before repositioning himself at your throbbing opening.

Levi grins the kind of grin that sparks up in his eye like a gas burner, blue flames billowing up in the dark void of his pupils as he listens to your greedy whimpers. His forehead separates from your own so that he may dip down and press his lips to your neck, his teeth pricking lightly at the base of your throat and his soft moans tingling against your sensitive skin. “Let me stretch it out, baby. I need to fuck you. Please,” the man pleads with you, nibbling on your collar bone while his hands continue to wander between your ass and breasts with desperate urgency.

The sweet, raspy sound of his voice makes your heart beat harder, sending a wash of static through your core as you grind down on his stiff length. The head begins to ease past your threshold, molding your smooth, slick walls to fit his girth as he sleeves the first fourth of his dick into your pulsing cunt. “Shit,” you whimper as he continues to push in; you attempt to adjust to his size, clenching repeatedly around the velvet-wrapped steel splitting you open wide.

By the time he’s submerged himself to the hilt, it feels like you’re in a million pieces on top of him. Levi holds a firm, tenderless grip on your hips as he looks up at you, pupils blown and canines poking into his bottom lip as a result of the smug grin painted across his mouth. The flames in his slate-colored eyes flicker blue again for a fraction of a second before his mouth is crashing onto yours, enveloping you in an all-consuming haze that distracts from even the ecstasy of being utterly full of him. He only deepens the kiss as his thumbs dig into your hip bones and begin to rock you back and forth, the head of his dick grinding into your sweetest spot and inviting a string of moans from your busy lips. 

Levi breaks the kiss only to attach his mouth to your earlobe, suckling it gently before taking it between his teeth and nipping at it, sending a shiver down your back and forcing you to squeeze around his unbelievable girth. “I don’t know,” he whispers in your ear, breath tickling your skin with his sensual tone. “You seem pretty shameless to me.”

< chapter ten | masterlist >

-

Levi fucking hates you.

He loathes the loud, shitty music you play at night. Despises the childish movies you put on in the den in the evenings. Can’t stand the disgusting tea you make in the mornings. And he hates, hates, hates how stiff it makes his cock when he can hear the buzz of your vibrator and the sweet, shameless moans sounding from your throat in the afternoons.

Today, for example — he’s sitting in the chair in his bedroom, trying his absolute hardest to get through one of his favorite novels, and Levi can’t find a peaceful moment because of you. Like always, he tries to ignore it at first, but the walls in your shared apartment are wildly thin. He can hear it so clearly, he’s confident he’s memorized your routine.

The door of your bedroom clicks softly shut, but he never hears it lock. A few seconds pass — you’re undressing, if he had to guess — and a drawer slides open. It’s close, which means it has to be your nightstand rather than your dresser. Next, a bout of shuffling and your TV popping on, turned to what sounds like a cooking channel. But you aren’t watching that — you just think it covers up the noise. It doesn’t; Levi always hears your vibrator click on the lowest setting right after that.

This is when he starts picturing you in your bed, clothes stripped off and legs spread wide while you toy with your clit in gentle circles. When his underwear begins feeling uncomfortably tight and his hand starts trailing instinctively over the bulge in his jeans. When he jerks it away out of mortification and gets fucking pissed.

Most days, he’d retreat to a further room in the apartment, or go on a walk for the half hour it usually takes. This time, Levi is beyond sick of your shit. Intending to give you an earful, he stomps out of his room and to your door, more than ready to make you cry from the embarrassment just to ensure it doesn’t happen again — but that’s when he hears it.

“Fuck, Levi,” you whimper, too quiet to be heard from his bedroom next door. It’s well within earshot now — your voice is desperate and whiny like always, but this time, he finds that he rather enjoys hearing his name in that tone. Standing in place, hovering shakily over the handle, he hears the buzz get louder as you click the setting up another notch. “Just like that, daddy.” And suddenly, he’s not in control of his body anymore.

The knob twists in his grip as he opens the door a crack, and he feels like he’s entered the gates of heaven. Your head is thrown back, one hand tweaking a nipple on your perfect breasts and the other pressing the pink, silicone bullet to your swollen, dripping cunt. Your legs are splayed out wide, just how he’d imagined them, knees bent and your back propped on a yellow-cased pillow. Eyes squeezed shut, you don’t notice as Levi slips in the door, leaving it open behind him as he approaches your shaking body.

He might look like he isn’t afraid of anything, but this is admittedly a risky move. That’s why he doesn’t look at your face as he replaces your grip on the toy with his own and attaches his mouth around one of your stiff, sensitive peaks. You tense for a moment as he shifts his weight onto the bed, and he’s bracing himself to pull off of you and move somewhere far, far away — but you relax just as soon. One of your hands tangles in the hair on the back of his head as you let out a loud, pretty moan. A bit of confidence leaking through him, he brushes his teeth over the hard nub and gropes your breast with his free hand.

“You like that?” Levi murmurs, moving to nibble at your earlobe while he presses the vibrator more firmly against your clit. He feels for the button on the bullet with his thumb before clicking it, kicking the speed up another level and listening as you whine underneath him. “So you wanted me to hear you all this time? Or were you just fucking stupid enough to think I couldn’t?”

He groans when your lips creep up his throat, placing chaste kisses along his Adam’s apple and finally settling just beneath his jaw. He wants you. Your innocent giggle sends vibrations through the thin, sensitive skin beneath his ear as you think about the question. “Just too stupid,” you answer sweetly, teeth flashing into a pretty smile. “I’m not disappointed, though— Shit, that’s good.”

You break off as Levi plunges his middle finger into your tight, needy cunt, thrusting it gently back and forth while you mewl quietly in response to his touch. He adds another, feeling the unforgiving elastic of your hole start to stretch just a bit — the squeeze around his digits alone has the tip of his engorged length leaking with pre-cum, staining through the zipper of his jeans. He lets out a satisfied little hum before speaking again. “I can make you feel better,” he whispers in your ear, feeling the static between your bodies as you shiver with need, eyes starting to roll back from the constant, overwhelming vibrations against your clit.

Wet, hungry kisses sweep down your neck as soon as Levi finishes his promise, and you feel another of his long digits prod through your entrance; your walls clench around them as he pumps into you, picking up the pace when your hips start to buck into his hand. “I doubt it,” you tease, admittedly trying to pry out his typical arrogant attitude. He chuckles darkly, teeth pricking into the dip that separates your neck from your shoulder.

The vibrator clatters to the floor, his thumb taking its place to rub hard, fast circles on your already swollen clit and while he fucks his fingers into you rapidly — a loud moan rips through your chest, stinging your throat as it passes through, but it hardly reaches the room around you as his hand clamps over mouth. A few stray, muffled sounds leak out, but he solves it quickly by pinching your nose between his thumb and forefinger, making your head swell with pressure. “If you wanted it rough you could’ve just asked. Don’t be a fucking brat.”

You gasp for air as his hand pulls off of you, shifting to set his thumb on your panting tongue. The knot in your stomach is beginning to coil more tightly than you can handle, making your cunt clench rhythmically around his digits as they twist to find your spot. There. A whine threatens the threshold behind your tongue, but Levi shoves his finger to the very back, clamping your mouth shut and making you suck it. “Shut the fuck up. I can’t ever get a moment of peace in this house, do you know that? I can’t stand you.” He digs against your spot, your climax threatening at any second. You think that he has to know as your eyes blow wide and the muffled sounds around his thumb grow louder that you’re about to cum, but he doesn’t show any signs of giving you mercy.

Levi pinches your nose between two fingers again, making your whole body shake as the coil tenses completely and your orgasm rushes against the gates. Another gasp when he lets loose, and you’re putty in his hands. Your limbs splay out wide as your cunt convulses around him, legs shaking wildly, bringing an arrogant grin to his face as he watches your eyes roll back to show the whites. “What a little slut,” he purrs as you come to, snaking his tongue along the angle of your jaw. “Tell me what you call me when you’re touching yourself like this. Wanna hear you say it.”

Your cheeks start to turn red, but the still-harsh thrust of his fingers in your cunt makes you shameless. “Daddy,” you answer, feeling a raspy groan vibrate against your skin in response.

The next few moments are a blur as Levi maneuvers your body where he wants it — he isn’t gentle by any means as his nails dig in your supple thighs and he flips you to your stomach, pulling your hands behind you and holding them taut against the small of your back. Pushing down until your back is arched, he begins to line himself up at your entrance, the head of his engorged cock prodding against the slick opening and drawing a gasp from your mouth.

He rubs one of your ass cheeks under his palm in a large, smooth circle before landing a light pop in the center. You moan in response, pressing your hips back against his length as the sting travels across your sensitive skin. “I thought you’d like that. Dirty girl,” Levi taunts, sweeping his thumb along the curve of your ass before smacking his hand against it, much harder this time as it sounds a deafening pop through the room. You feel your toes curl.

The tip of his thick cock presses past the threshold, and you feel your walls stretch to mold around his width as he sheathes himself into your pulsing cunt. A whine leaks out of your throat as he forces his length to the hilt, close to kissing your cervix as the warm, wet chasm swallows him whole. “Holy shit,” you whimper, feeling your pussy clench and throb around Levi’s impressive girth — every infinitesimal twitch of his dick sends an electric shock to your deepest spot, making you run from him instinctively — but his firm hold on your wrists keeps you well in place.

“Is this what you were driving me fucking insane for? How does it feel, huh? You’re screaming like a bad fucking pornstar.” He starts to thrust back and forth, the pull of his skin against your spongy walls sending waves of torturous pleasure through your whole body.

“Fuck,” you moan, rocking your hips back against him as he gropes your ass cheeks with his rough, calloused hands. “I love it. ‘S so big, daddy.”

levi has a history of being particularly possessive, but getting him this riled up is rare. i mean, look at who we’re talking about — the man never loses his composure. he fucks you straight through his first two orgasms without so much as a shaky breath, talking shit in your ear between sucking hickeys on your neck that are so deeply purple they’re practically black. “you’re mine, do you understand that? maybe i’ll start putting a leash on you like a damn dog when we go out, huh? if you can’t keep your hands to yourself, then i’ll do it for you. filthy fucking slut.”

the dog comment puts in itch in his brain that he absolutely cannot ignore. a quick chain reaction happens in his jealousy-hazed mind, and levi knows exactly how he intends to assert his ownership of you. “i’ll fuck you like a bitch, too. you want my cum inside of you? i’ll make a good daddy, don’t you think, princess?”

he frankly doesn’t care when you start whining that it hurts, plowing you through your fifth orgasm like it’s nothing. soon after that levi will start mocking you, slapping your sensitive thighs until little welts begin to form. “what is it, beautiful? you don’t think you can take anymore? it’s too bad that you’re too fucking dumb to make the decisions here.”

levi acts different after the second round, less arrogant than he was before — passionate, if i had to pick a word. that doesn’t make him any less aggressive, of course. just a little handsier. all of his insults are traded in for low, raspy moans, only speaking to call you his pretty little bitch and say, “you feel all my cum in your pussy, baby? you’re all mine. all mine.”

the third time he fills you up, though, you get the feeling that it’s becoming too much for him. levi’s grip on your hips is shaky as he lays you on your side, careful not to pull his painfully sensitive cock free from you while he lays down behind you, still rocking gently into your cunt and frothing up the white, sticky substance beginning to squeeze out around his width. all he can whimper out is, “mine, mine, mine,” and his voice is so pretty and sweet for the very first time.

levi isn’t far from another orgasm as soon as he picks up the pace again — well, as much as he can pick up the pace in his weak, whiny state. part of you wishes you were able to think, just so you could be sure to remember every little detail of how he looks and sounds right now. you’re never, ever seeing him like this again. his whole body shakes when he releases, his movements halting and his fingernails digging deep in your skin.

Maybe you’re still totally fucked out from the first time, but Levi just cannot help himself. As you spot the clock in your peripheral, you count out another two or so hours before you should expect his wife to arrive home. You’re sure he’s just as aware of that fact as you are. It’s not long enough — like there is such a thing.

You’re on top of him despite your exhaustion, legs on either side of his hips. Judging by the way the head of his cock is pounding against the deepest, most touch-starved places inside your quivering cunt, he doesn’t mind that you’re practically limp — you’d go as far as to say that he prefers it. His hands knead roughly at your breasts as he fucks into you, stopping once in a while to toy with your nipples, or to land a hard smack against one of them just to hear the loud squeal you reply back with.

“Still so fucking wet for me,” Levi moans into your neck, letting his sharp, pearly whites prick into your skin and slapping one of your tits again. You stopped being able to think a long time ago, just whining out a hardly audible stream of please and daddy and Levi. “You still want to be used, filthy girl?”

A nod — you can manage a nod. Your head lolls up and down while his cock stays driving steadily into you; you could cum at any moment, and all he has to do is tell you that you can. It’s an overwhelming feeling, and it’s one you’ve battled for the past twenty or so minutes that he’s spent abusing your dripping, over-sensitive cunt. A jolt runs through you as you feel his middle finger, slick with spit, running a circle around the rim of the tight, untouched entrance a bit further back. “Are you sure about that?” he taunts, biting harshly at the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

All you can do is nod again. Seconds later, you’re face down on the soft mattress with your ass high in the air. The freezing chill of the lube pouring between your cheeks would have normally snapped you back to life, but you’re too far gone now. You feel the walls of your cunt stretch back around his now-familiar girth as Levi’s hand snakes around your leg to rub quick circles on your near-numbed clit, drawing a high-pitched, grateful moan from your mouth. The more it hurts to cum around his impossibly thick cock, the less you want to stop — though you can’t quite pinpoint how. He spreads you open a little wider, burying his length to the hilt and making the room spin around your tingling head before he speaks again. “Have you ever done this before?” he asks, popping a little smack on your swollen nub before returning to his torturous circles.

“No,” you whimper out, gasping when his thumb starts massaging your rim again. Mr. Ackerman’s cock — diamond wrapped in warm, slicked velvet as it drags along your tired walls — starts to stroke slower and deeper, keeping you nice and relaxed as the digit dips past the unbelievably tight ring guarding your virgin hole. As he submerges it to the knuckle, a beautifully overwhelming feeling runs all through your core, and a desperate whine rips through your heaving chest.

Levi fucks into you a little harder, feeling both of your holes clench around him as he leans down over you. “I knew you would love it,” he whispers in your ear. “My hungry little slut.” Another wonderfully painful, mindless orgasm shoots through you as he spanks your swollen clit a few more times, making your toes curl so hard you think they might be broken. “Wanna see if you can take my cock, baby?” he asks, planting wet kisses up and down your neck.

You nod again, murmuring, “Please, please, please,” as his violent assault on your clit continues to render you useless. His thumb pulls out from your silky walls although they threaten to hold him in, and you feel more of the cold, slippery lube pour over your hot skin. An intensely hollow chill rushes through your core as his cock slides out of you, the cool air stinging your abused pussy as his hand slides over the top of yours. Lacing your fingers together and attaching his lips to your earlobe, Levi lines himself up at your tight, slicked asshole, barely pressing himself against you.

“Are you ready, pretty girl? ‘S gonna hurt at first. I’ll try to start gentle,” he murmurs, slowing his circles on your clit until you moan just the way he likes it. Another drooling nod from you, and you feel his teeth flash into your neck. “Fuck, I want to keep you forever. Such a good little whore.” Two of his long fingers plunge into your cunt as his thumb stays pressed against your nub, fucking them into you slowly as the head of his dick pushes past the suffocating threshold. He lets out a low, animalistic growl in time with your surprised gasp.

Just the head is too much, but you push back on Mr. Ackerman’s thick cock regardless. The constant waves of pleasure from his fingers working away at your exhausted hole distract you from the pain as he slides in slowly, a long string of deep, raspy moans escaping his lips while he sheathes half of his massive length. A sense of fullness floods from your scalp to your toes, and you can’t help but let, “More, daddy,” sound from your aching throat as your nails dig deeper into the mattress. Levi’s grip on your hand gets tighter.

An intimidating chuckle slips out from the man behind you when he starts to move again, quicker to bury himself in your ass as the silky-textured walls choke his cock and your thighs shake beneath him. This time, he pulls his dripping fingers out of your pussy and returns to his harsh smacks against your clit. “Beg,” Mr. Ackerman demands, stopping an inch from the hilt and listening to every high-pitched yelp as he spanks your soaking cunt. It’s not fair — all you can do is moan — but he already knows that. He’s just looking for a reason to pop his palm against your engorged little nub more harshly. “You don’t know how to speak, do you? Ditzy little slut. Poke my leg if we need to stop, okay?” He waits for a nod, and you give it to him. “This is the part where I make you cry for me, princess,” Levi promises, putting his hand on either of your ass cheeks and spreading them so far apart it stings.

His cock plunges in to the hilt, and you see fucking stars. What once were whines are starting to sound more like screams of ecstasy as he starts thrusting into you roughly, each stroke slow but hard as he pulls your ass back to meet his hips halfway. “You like that, huh?” he taunts, smacking your ass with one hand before gripping it tight again. Your endless moans answer the question for you. “Nasty little bitch. You’d lay here and take it all day long.” Levi laughs to himself as he starts to pick up the pace, using one hand to shove your face into the mattress. “I should have a few friends over next time Petra’s out, yeah? We’ll see how much my pretty girl can handle. Pass you around for a night.”

Sliding out of your ass, Mr. Ackerman flips you over roughly, grabbing your ankles hard enough to leave red rings around them as he yanks you to the edge of the bed and steps gracefully off the side. He pushes your legs together and straightens them, your feet ending up just below his chin as he wraps his strong arm around tight. His hand closes around your throat, eliciting a few gags as he pushes back into your still-resistant hole and submerges his length completely.

This new position makes you feel even tighter around him, your core pulsing as another orgasm approaches from the feeling of fullness alone. Before you can process it, he’s pounding into you relentlessly, holding your shaking legs still as you suffer yet another vision-whiting, ear-popping orgasm under Levi’s brutal care. “Shit,” he moans, lips hanging apart as he stares down at your crossing, watering eyes. “You’re so tight for me.” Two of his fingers shove into your mouth when his hand leaves your neck, tickling the back of your throat. “Give me one more, sweetheart. I know you can. Just one more.”

Salty tears start to slide down your cheeks as his cock drives into you, one of his hands going to your already-tortured clit to rub more methodical circles. Every ruthless thrust into your used asshole sends a muffled scream vibrating through Mr. Ackerman’s fingers, your legs falling to rest on either of his shoulders as he lets them loose. “Ah, Levi — Need to cum, daddy,” you mumble, half gibberish as he pushes his digits further down your throat.

“You can cum. I got you, baby. Let me have it,” he coos, his thrusts getting sloppy as his own orgasm approaches. You climax together, his hot, sticky fluid filling up your ass as you clench around him, his name the only word on your lips as Levi lets you release for the final time. It’s the only word you know.

Although he turns you on your side and cuddles up close, Mr. Ackerman doesn’t pull out of your throbbing hole. He leaves it in, feeling every little twitch and squeeze around his dick as you drift off for a nap. You keep it nice and warm for him for another half hour as you sleep before he can finally convince himself to shake you awake and take you to the shower.

levi knows good things are supposed to come in moderation, but he thinks you just look so pretty when you beg him to please stop making you cum. he waits for the word red at times like these, but it never rolls off of your tongue. he doesn’t think it ever has. you love the blissful feeling of an empty, fucked-out mind just as much as he loves absolutely wrecking you.

when he’s annoyed enough with you on a given evening, levi likes to watch you squirm around on his cock for a little while to teach you a lesson. maybe for ten minutes while he scrolls on his phone, or for two hours as he holds your hips flush against him and expects you to answer questions about what you’re watching. “you shouldn’t be this desperate for it. aren’t you embarrassed, baby? nasty little slut.”

on nights like these, though, levi is not annoyed. he wants to treat you — it’s just so hard not to take it too far when your moans sound so sweet. he’s sure to keep his unbearably hard cock as deep in your pussy as he can possibly dive, pushing at the spongy back wall with the tip. you sit in his lap, facing away from him, legs spread wide no matter how many times they instinctively squeeze shut from his overwhelming touch. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub while he plays with your nipples and smacks your tits hard enough to make you squeal. his lips touch your ear. “i‘m gonna fuckin’ ruin you, princess. you’re all mine, huh?”

levi is fairly sure that the sound of your voice whining out the word daddy is his favorite thing in the world to hear. the pretty gagging noise when he wraps one strong hand around your fragile little neck is his second favorite. his fingers torture your painfully swollen clit, tripling his pace as your walls clench around his thick cock — which he never moves a millimeter, even as you grind shamelessly down on it for just a tiny taste of friction.

when he’s sick of watching you embarrass yourself, levi tightens his grip on your throat, pinning his elbow against your sternum to hold you nice and still. then he lets loose on the screaming little nub beneath his quick, harsh fingertips. you try to squirm, but he doesn’t let you move — not until your vision whites out and you cum around his cock, feeling the perfect fullness of his length as your walls pulse.

levi likes to shock you back from a debilitating orgasm with a sharp slap to your pussy, shooting intense electricity through your already-throbbing clit. he chokes you until he can hear every single breath you fight for, not giving you any time to recover as he spanks your sensitive cunt, grinding his cock up deeper, if that’s possible. “look at you, squirming like a bitch in heat. it’s pathetic. are you my bitch? say, ‘i’m your bitch, daddy.’ good girl. so fuckin’ good for me.”

after a little while longer and more orgasms than anyone should be able to handle, levi takes his hand off of your neck and uses it to replace the one on your clit as he shoves his slick-covered fingers to the back of your throat. he loves watching you lick them clean, watching you gag on them so hard your eyes water. another slap on your clit and you’re cumming again, your whole body turning to empty static as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced rushes through your worn frame, streams of clear liquid bursting from beneath your lover’s hand as it smacks against your clit repeatedly. “you made a fucking mess. i should make you lick it up. stupid whore.”

↣ i promise there's a safe word, even though i suck and therefore didn't mention it. in my mind palace i just kinda imagined it like my relationship, where they've been together for so long they know p much every fantasy the other one has & they've been fucking long enough to know each other's limits, so the safeword is like rarely discussed. i need to start including them more, but i haven't thought about mine in like two years lmao.

levi secretly loves taking you out to show you off — not that he’d ever admit it. under the table, his fingers are digging so deep into your thigh you’re sure you’re bruising as you chat with his colleagues. but he’s also biting back one of those nasty, malicious little smirks at the sight of their eyes wandering down the neckline of your dress. you laugh a little too enthusiastically at erwin’s joke, dainty little hand brushing flirtatiously across the man’s chest, and his grin is gone. “you’re fucking mine tonight.”

you’ve been with him long enough to push his limits, of course. levi would never have a chance to fuck you like he wants to if you were always well-behaved. never enough that anyone else would accuse you of being the little whore he knows you are, of course — but enough for him to notice.

levi unbuckles his belt at a red light on the way home, having not said a word to you since he shoved you into the car and snapped your seatbelt in place. the long, pronounced vein throbs underneath his thumb in time with each tug, his dick long, thick, and always painful when it stretches your cunt in the most delicious way. and the depraved things he wants to do to you once you're home have him harder than ever. “suck it, slut.”

if there’s one thing to say about him in the bedroom, it’s that levi is a very impatient man. he doesn’t wait for those soft, pretty lips to finish wrapping around the tip before he’s shoving your head down, fingers tangled deep in your hair as he bottoms out in your throat. “you can suck cock better than this, can’t you? how are you going to whore yourself out to my friends when you don’t even know how to use your mouth worth a fuck? worthless little bitch.”

levi fucking loves when you act out — scratch that, he loves making you cry for forgiveness after you act out. so once your lover has carried you through the house and thrown you down on the bed, you decide to be less agreeable. of course, that only makes him want to ruin you more. he can be a little dramatic, at times — so when he turns around from the dresser with his cell phone in hand, you’re secretly a little disappointed. you’ve made movies before; what’s so special about that? “i said strip. don’t ask stupid fucking questions.”

now fully naked, you lay face down on the soft bed with your ass arched high, just how he likes it. levi starts a facebook live. “pose for me, pretty baby. just like that. i want everybody to see how wet you are. my filthy little girl.” your eyes go wide at the mention of “everybody,” but you wiggle your ass for him anyway. you’d let him fuck you in the middle of a football stadium if he would just keep talking in your ear like this.

levi passes the phone to you as he gropes your ass roughly, and you see your reflection in the camera. you’re already a mess. second, you notice the text that reads livestream at the top and the ping of joining voyeurs pouring in by the minute. “are you sure you want t—” you start, but he interrupts you. “shut the fuck up.”

as mean as your lover can be, there's no denying that levi loves making you feel good. no doubt it's difficult for him as he teases your slit with his fingertips, toying with your nipples with his free hand and making you clench around nothing. this is all he does for far too long, whispering the nastiest shit he can think of into your ear between peppered kisses just to make you squirm a little harder. "beg me for it, angel. show them how desperate you are for me"

levi can't contain himself after you've told your audience just how badly you want him. the tip of his cock is slamming into the very back of your needy cunt before you can even let out a whine. you start to run once or twice, but he doesn't let you get far. he watches the camera as your eyes roll back in your head and your tongue slips out of your mouth, gripping your hips tight enough for little purple circles an inch in diameter to start blooming on your skin.

he doesn't control your orgasms as he usually does — levi just lets your cunt pulse around him as much as the sweet little thing needs to, listening intently to every utterance of his name into the little microphone. "thank you, sir."

levi waits until you can't form a single word outside of his name before he even considers stopping. he loves watching you murmur mindlessly into the camera, too dumb off of his cock to worry about facing his colleagues at your next outing. he's never been one to be embarrassed, after all — he'll stroll into work tomorrow like a breeze, an arrogant smirk replacing his typical scowl. "what is it, princess? did you forget how to speak?"

you nod weakly, tears starting to well up in your eyes, and levi just laughs. no sense of humor at all until you're at your lowest underneath him. you're crying, breathless, whimpering his name over and over as drool leaks down your chin, and he's gotten exactly what he wanted. "you're pathetic."

levi finally decides to let you rest now that he's satisfied, letting down the already-crumbling wall he'd put between himself and his orgasm. he spreads you wider and pushes down deeper, ignoring your squeals as he pounds into you harder. he'll feel accomplished when your legs are too shaky to stand afterward, and he loves sweeping them out from under you to carry you to the bath. brushing a little kiss on your nose when you nuzzle into his chest.

like any good man, levi's favorite time to talk shit is right before he nuts deep in your throbbing, over-sensitive cunt. "you want my cum, huh? who do you belong to?" and you whimper out, "levi, levi, levi," like you have been for the past ten entire minutes, and all he can do is grin. "such a pretty little whore. you were so good for me tonight. it's too bad you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. now everybody can see what a fucking cockslut you are, baby. cum for me. tell them how sorry you are."

levi remains steady to the end, still thrusting harshly as he releases deep inside of you, listening to constant stream of "sorry, so sorry" pouring from your lips while your walls convulse around him. he ends the livestream as soon as he regains his composure.

pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, levi turns you on your back and rubs your stomach lovingly. "gonna go run a bath. i'll be right back, baby."

-

“I am so sorry,” you stammer out, but he’s shutting the trunk behind his barking lab and rounding to the driver’s side. In a matter of seconds, Reiner has already backed out of the parking space and started down the drive. Speechless, you turn slowly back around to face your accomplice.Levi, ever the kind, generous soul that he is, is laughing a real, full-bellied laugh, holding onto his sides and doubling down so the top of his head touches the seat in front of him. You groan and roll your eyes, giving him a frown. “Goodnight, Dr. Ackerman,” you tell him flatly, watching as he tries to regain his composure.

Stray chuckles still leaking from his mouth, he leans back on his hands. “Sweet dreams, brat. Be a doll and snap a few photos for me while you’re getting undressed. Surely you wore something you wanted me to see,” Levi says, and with that, the driver slams the back door shut. Your cheeks blaze red.

“I’m sorry about that,” the driver apologizes, “Mr. Ackerman gets kind of messy when he’s drunk.” In all fairness, the suited brunette has no way of knowing that you also get kind of messy when you’re drunk. “Would you like me to walk you up, Miss?”

You smile and shake your head. “No, thank you,” you say, turning on your heel. “Drive safe,” you call. Attaching your hand firmly to the banister, you wave back at him and start up the stairs. Only three of them trip you up as you stumble to the top and trudge to the black door, a yearning for your pillow creeping underneath your eyelids with every painful step. Reaching to rummage in your purse as you approach the silver plate that reads 17B, you suddenly flash back to scurrying out to avoid Zeke’s voice of reason — and when you skipped out the door, your keys hung perfectly still on the rack to your left.

“Fuck,” you whisper under your breath as you lift your fist to the black-painted obstruction in front of you. Beating it lightly three times, you hope that your roommate is either too tired to argue or has had a sudden change of heart.

A bout of shuffling, muffled voices, and footsteps sounds from the previously quiet apartment in the ten chilly seconds that you wait to be accommodated. The short series of clicks from the locking mechanism and the turn of the knob come shortly after, the door pulling open to a dark room lit by the television screen and a face framed by familiar messy brown locks.

“You look like you had a good time,” Eren jests, stepping back to let you in. He’s dressed in a hoodie and sweats, hair half tied in a haphazard knot. Tossing your purse down, you plop on the loveseat by the door and start at the horrendous shoes on your feet without even taking a look around. “Tell me something fancy you did. I’ve been waiting all day.” The green-eyed gossip takes his spot next to you, tossing an arm around your shoulders as you kick the stilettos underneath the sofa.

Zeke’s dismissive scoff draws your attention to the couch on the other wall, where he sits on the end closest to Eren and you. On the far end, Armin is nestled comfortably into half of a plush, blue throw blanket, the unoccupied half lying in wait for your friend’s return. “Don’t encourage her,” your roommate grumbles. His younger, more agreeable brother kindly flips him the bird before turning back to face you.

Choosing to follow suit and ignore the muttering blond, you look at the ceiling in thought. “I did a lot of fancy shit,” you say honestly, trying to pick out the highlights. You give him and your other two friends an overview of the events of your date with Levi, highlighting important details like the driver, the wine, and the escargot. Two of the men among you nod along with wide-eyed engagement, but Zeke just frowns.

“Dude, I’m sorry,” you tell him, even though he’s actively avoiding your eyes. “I love you, but you’re not my fucking dad.” Maybe your tone is a little harsh, but then again, so is the buzz of the wine. And so is the edge you’ve been on since Reiner stormed off. And so he’s been since you walked in the door.

He doesn’t protest, though; in fact, he doesn’t reply at all. He just gives your apology a dry little chuckle and tosses a two-fingered salute over to his little brother, standing, stretching, and starting toward the hall. As he fades out of view, Eren whispers, “Do you think we’ll get all cranky like that when we get to be his age?”

Now feeling a bit less up to company, you let out a yawn. “I need to go to bed,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Two fifty-pound cinder blocks sit on either of your shoulders, one for each of the blonds effectively ruining your otherwise perfect night. As you retire, you can’t help but be a bit thankful that you’ve rid yourself of the ten-ton anvil that is Levi.

While you drift to sleep, tucked tight and warm into your bed with the soothing sound of muffled music slipping beneath the door, you figure you’ll begin putting out all of these fires tomorrow — but as your wine-weighted lids begin to flutter shut, Dr. Ackerman begins to pervade over anything else in your mind.

-

LEVI

Waking up from a nap on the floor of his office at the university, Levi realizes that he is a fucking idiot.

Admittedly, he needed some time to let loose — his meeting with you this morning left the man rather shaken, after all — but he would’ve preferred it took place within the security of his home. Pulling his knees to his chest and looking about the quaint room, all the anger leaves him in the same breath as the chuckle he produces. Hange has neatly arranged a pot of tea, two aspirin, and a snack on his desk, accompanied by his pressed and folded jacket, cell phone, and a handwritten note.

Moblit is on standby with the car — text him when you wake up. I’ll see you this evening. Make good choices.

Hange

Levi lifts himself to his feet with his hands and strolls around the desk, taking a seat in the plush black chair and tossing the aspirin into his mouth immediately. As he takes his phone and powers it back on, he’s suddenly hit with a very disturbing memory. He asked you to dinner. Why the fuck would he ask you to dinner?

He punches the messages shortcut firmly, tapping on the thread with you as quickly as he can locate it. The minor headache eases into a deep, throbbing pain as the conversation comes back to him, and Dr. Ackerman wonders what the hell he’s supposed to do now.

-

The week passes rather quickly after the Tuesday night outing. Before he knows it, Levi is twirling his thumbs over the keyboard for what feels like the billionth time on a cold Sunday afternoon. You’ve spoken one time since dinner, and he’s not entirely sure how to remedy that. Again, he scrolls back and forth through the scarce text thread the two of you share — just shy of twenty-four hours after you gave your address, he received a total of three photos:

A selfie you took in the backseat of his car on the drive home: you look messy in the most attractive way he can imagine, a bit of lipstick smeared under your bottom lip as you smile and your neckline pulled much lower than it was when he picked you up. You’re resting snugly underneath Levi’s arm, his head laid gently atop your own. The pigment around his mouth perfectly matches the one on yours. The picture doesn’t show, but he knows that his other hand is tucked between your thighs.

A photo of you in the mirror, presumably in your bedroom before dinner. The dress compliments your form in the most flattering of ways, making Levi’s stomach twist.

Then, the grand finale: another in the same mirror, snapped just before you sent the message, if he had to take a guess. He’d made a sloppy joke about seeing what you’d worn for him, but he didn’t expect you to follow through. Red, lacy lingerie hugs tight to your perfect body as you pose casually, your face just out of frame. Even as he views it again now, his mouth goes dry.

Levi replied as soon as he could pull himself together, saying the only thing he could think clearly enough to type out: You’re beautiful. And you sent a fucking smiley face. He had no idea how to reply to that, so he didn’t. This was Wednesday.

He tosses his phone down on the desk in front of him, resigning yet again until another hour or two from now. His eyes roam for something to keep him busy; off days are few and far between, and he rarely finds himself with nothing to do. Boredom is on the top ten list of things the man absolutely loathes.

A manila folder tucked beneath a stack of paperwork catches his eye, and Levi plucks it out with two fingers before flipping it open. The idea of something so important slipping his mind baffles him, but he can’t spend much time thinking it over. Flicking the switch for the lamp and leaning back, he devours your latest submission with striking urgency.

Before he nears the end of the first sentence, he can sense something very different behind your keystrokes. For the first time, the words seem to jump off the page as if he’s stepped into a film, distorting his senses and immersing him in the action taking place before him. It clicked — you’re back in on the project. Levi worried before that you would never adjust when he made you change gears so suddenly, but there’s a familiarity in the text before him. These are the kind of pages written in a frenzy, eyes locked on the cursor and fingers moving rapidly, as if you’re trying to keep up with someone telling you exactly what to write down.

And you go under. Ignoring the rumble of your stomach and the demands of your bladder becomes second nature, and nothing on the planet matters more than copying what the voice says until it’s finished. Hours later, you’ll emerge with a pounding headache and nausea, but it’s worth it. Because the frenzy itself feels like fucking drugs. There is no feeling in the world more comfortable than the pure solitude of putting your all into the page. Perhaps there is one thing he does love about writing: that one beautiful feeling. It’s rare for Dr. Ackerman to retract a statement he’s made in the past.

As his eyes reach the last word, a lightbulb shines above his head. Levi grabs his phone.

I finished reading your pages. Can I call you so we can talk about it?

-

YOU

Your blood runs ice cold as you read the message from Dr. Ackerman, and you blow the smoke out of your mouth as quickly as possible. As if that will make a difference.

“Fuck,” you groan, passing the blunt to Eren and sinking your head into both hands. “Levi wants to call me about my pages.” He coughs while you look up at him, eyes so low and bloodshot that they’re nearly closed. Seeing this concerns you — your friend smokes weed far more often and has a much higher tolerance than you do. Although you knew you were high, you didn’t know you were that high.

The brunette sitting in the bathtub beside you laughs as he thumps the ash into the little black trash can. “You’re way too stoned to talk to him,” he says, nudging you with his shoulder. “Make sure you put it on speaker.”

You mutter, “Fuck you,” under your breath as you try to type out a message that doesn’t say, hey levi! i’m blazed right now, but i’m trying to be cool about it so you don’t notice. Once you manage to complete that task, your phone rings within the second. You take in a deep breath and tap the green button.

“Hey!” you greet Dr. Ackerman, trying to feign cheerfulness as Eren points urgently at the speakerphone icon. Reluctantly and begrudgingly, you oblige him.

“Hey. I want to apologize for taking so long to read them. Hange put the folder underneath something, and I forgot you gave it to me,” Levi says, his voice deep and smooth. Your lips turn up automatically at the sound, before shooting right back down. You should’ve been preparing what you were going to say. What are you going to say?

Eren throws up his hands as you look at him, your eyes wide and anxious, and you consider hanging up. Your brain is full of static. “That’s okay,” you stammer out, mentally kicking yourself as hard as you can. “I really don’t mind. What did you think?”

“I was really impressed. I hope I can see more like it.”

Perhaps it's the shock of Dr. Ackerman actually praising your work. Or the sound of Zeke arriving at the apartment overwhelming you amongst everything else happening right now. Or maybe it’s just the fact that you are way, way too high to be having this conversation with him. Whatever the reason may be, it makes you blurt out, “Are you just saying that because we’re, like, fucking?”

Although the line is silent, Eren is not. You press the mute button as quickly as you can as he shakes with laughter beside you, the hand clamped over his mouth not accomplishing much as far as muffling it. You smack his arm and mouth, “Shut up,” at him, but he just sticks out his tongue. Levi clears his throat.

“Listen, I didn’t pick you based on a fucking headshot. Can you be an adult for a second?” His voice is gruff, sending your heart to your throat and Eren’s eyebrows to his hairline.

You stammer embarrassingly for a moment before gathering your composure. “I’m sorry. Really. I just find it hard to believe,” you try to explain, your tone small and timid. Your friend puts a supporting hand on your shoulder as he does an awful job of masking his snickering.

“Be more confident. I’m not going to lie to you if you write something shitty, but I’m not blind. I know you can write well,” Levi tells you, his tone bordering on soft. “Are you busy right now? I have some notes for you. Most of them are praise, so it can wait if it needs to.”

You jump as a loud knock sounds at the bathroom door. “Hey, are you in here?” Zeke calls, and you’re too overwhelmed to remember the mute button again. “Eren’s car is outside, but he’s not here.” Stupidly, neither you nor your brunette companion answers, and the door pops open. Your roommate strolls in and furrows his brow, a brown laptop bag slung over his shoulder. “Why are you in the bath together?”

In a split second, Zeke spots Levi’s name on your phone, and the three of you make dumbfounded, wide-eyed eye contact as the man on the other end of the line clears his throat roughly. Everyone starts talking at once.

“Levi, that’s not what he meant.”

“Hi, this is Zeke, her roommate, and they are totally clothed, and there’s no water. I promise. Please don’t be mad.”

“Hey Dr. Ackerman, I’m Eren. We’re not taking a bath. My brother is a fucking idiot. We’re smoking a blunt in the bathtub. We’re just friends.”

The silence is long and mortifying as you begin to hoist yourself out of the big white tub, dusting off your jeans and glaring at Zeke ferociously. He stares back apologetically, looking like he’s starting to get nauseous. You’re feeling the same way. The only sounds in the little apartment are the breeze in the window and the low buzz of the heater — oh, and your own heartbeat.

Finally, Levi speaks up. “Why are they talking to me like I’m violent or something? Your other boyfriend didn’t seem afraid of me.” He chuckles at his own joke, and the tension in the air softens a bit.

“None of them are my boyfriend,” you say, annoyed and avoiding his question. He’s better off not knowing the shit you’ve talked about him to your friends. You chew on your lip as the blond shoots you an enthusiastic thumbs up and Eren tosses the roach out the window.

He laughs again, and you can’t help but grin, although you try to hide it from your merciless company. The man in the tub is already making kissy faces at you. Now that the imminent doom of Dr. Ackerman thinking you’d called him while in the bath with a lover has dissipated, you start to process your surprise at Zeke defending you. You hadn’t discussed your situation since the fight after your date last week.

You hadn’t talked to Levi since your date last week either, and it was starting to drive you crazy. Thinking about crawling into bed with him all the time is starting to drive you even crazier.

“I’m glad you weren’t stupid enough to smoke in public again. That explains why you were acting like such a dumbass,” he teases, and you toss a little wave at your friends as you start toward the door. “I can wait until Tuesday to tell you what I think, then. I’ll let you go since you’re busy.”

“No!” you exclaim as the door clicks shut, a bit too enthusiastic for your own pride. You clear your throat. “I mean, we can talk for a little while if you want to. I’m going to my room now,” you say sheepishly, hoping he wanted to discuss more than your pages.

You hear a bit of shuffling and a couple of muffled voices before Levi comes back to the phone. “Something actually just came up. I have to meet with some dickhead from a magazine. Text me, okay?”

Despite your disappointment, you force your lips up into a smile. “That’s o—”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He hung up.