empress getou

He looks down at you.

You can practically see the gears turning in his head.

He looks down at you, his gaze wavering as he mentally thinks of the risks of entertaining you here and now.

“We really shouldn’t,” he sighs again, though the pink tint creeping across his ears gives him away immediately.

You don't bother arguing.

Instead, you just stare up at him through your lashes, bottom lip jutting out into a pout so shamelessly manipulative that you're almost proud of yourself. A face you knew he couldn’t deny.

“Chrome’s just downstairs,” he reminds you weakly.

“That guy could sleep through a hurricane,” you shoot back immediately. Your hands slide up his chest again as you shift closer, thighs brushing his.

“C’mon…” you whine softly, breath warm against his lips. “It’s been so long.” The words come out embarrassingly needy. You don't even care; at this point, dignity is the least of your concerns.

You need him.

Your hips rock forward before you can stop yourself, seeking friction, seeking something. Anything.

“Please.”

That seems to be his breaking point.

Senku moves back slightly, staring at you with uncertain eyes. His lips part like he's about to say something—probably another logical argument. Another reminder of why this is a bad idea.

You don't give him the chance.

Your hands come up to cup his face, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of his neck before you pull him back toward you. The kiss is immediate. Hungry and desperate.

The second your lips meet, whatever argument he'd been trying to form dies before it can leave his mouth. His breath catches, and for the briefest moment he freezes before immediately kissing you back with equal desperation.

Your mouths move together in a way that feels almost frantic. Every soft press of his lips against yours only leaves you wanting—no—needing more. You chase him whenever he pulls away for air, and he follows when you do the same.

It's ridiculous—pathetic, honestly.

Neither of you seem capable of staying away from each other for more than a few seconds.

The room fills with the quiet sounds of it—shaky breaths, muffled sighs, the faint sound of lips meeting again and again. Your fingers tighten their grip in his hair while his hands wander restlessly over your waist, your hips, your back, never staying in one place for long.

You can feel the hesitation slowly bleeding out of him with every passing second. Feel his resolve crumbling beneath your hands.

You tilt your head and deepen the kiss, and Senku makes a sound against your lips that sends a shiver racing down your spine. It's quiet—barely audible—but it's there.

His grip tightens immediately afterward, as though he's embarrassed you heard it. As though he can somehow take it back.

You only smile against him.

The realization makes him groan softly before pulling you even closer, and victory blooms warm in your chest. Your tongue slips into his mouth, keeping him occupied exactly as intended, and the kiss turns messy after that. All-consuming. The kind that leaves your lungs burning and your thoughts thoroughly scattered.

You barely register the fact that you're moving until the backs of Senku's knees hit the cot tucked into the corner of the room.

The impact makes him stumble.

The loud sounds of your kissing fill the room, mouths wet and hungry as you continue pushing him back. His hands tighten around your waist instinctively, trying to steady himself, but you don't give him the chance to recover.

You pull back from the kiss just long enough to look him in the eyes, palms splayed across his chest.

Then you shove.

Senku drops onto the bed without much hassle.

He's panting, eyes blown wide as he watches you climb on top of him. His hands immediately come to grip your hips the second you settle your weight atop him, fingers digging into your sides.

Your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips.

Then back up again.

Your need is obvious, and the only thing stopping you from ravaging him outright is his misplaced moral high ground.

The second your lips meet his again, whatever coherent thought he'd managed to hold onto evaporates. A small whimper slips into the kiss before he can stop it, and suddenly his grip on your hips isn't there to steady you anymore—it's guiding you, pulling you closer—encouraging every drag of your body against his.

His bulge presses up against you, and the friction pulls a helpless sound from your throat. Not enough. It's nowhere near enough. Yet somehow it's already making your head spin.

The flush across his face deepens, spreading all the way to his neck. His eyes squeeze shut as his head falls back against the pillows, looking completely dazed beneath you. Barely able to form words.

You take advantage of it immediately.

Shoving your face into his neck, you lick and suck along the curve of his jaw. Your lips trail lower and lower, leaving a beautiful array of hickies in their wake.

A sign of your affection.

His breathing grows heavier with every passing second.

You roll your hips down against him again and his own immediately juts up to meet yours, stuttering beneath you. The motion lacks any real rhythm, more instinct than anything else.

It's too much and not enough all at once.

Every grind of your hips seems to make him lose a little more of whatever self-control he had left.

Which is exactly why, before things can get any further out of hand, he finally decides to take control back.

You barely have time to register the shift before you're the one staring up at him.

 One second you're on top of him, rolling your hips down against him and drinking down every little whimper that escapes into your mouth. The next, you're staring up at the ceiling, the cot creaking beneath your weight as Senku settles over you.

You blink up at him, breathless.

For a moment neither of you say anything.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he looks down at you, lips swollen, eyes dark and focused in a way that makes heat curl low in your stomach. He looks just as affected as you feel.

You licked your lips apprehensively and caught Senku’s eyes as you reached down and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts before slowly lowering them down your legs. 

“Damn…” he whispered huskily.

By the time your shorts are discarded somewhere beside the bed, you're left lying there in nothing but your underwear, and Senku drinks in the sight of you unabashedly.

His eyes drag over every inch of exposed skin. For someone who'd spent the last several minutes insisting this was a bad idea, he certainly isn't looking away.

Then he's moving.

He crawls over you, knees settling between your thighs and nudging them farther apart. He drops down onto his elbows, lips meeting yours in a frenzied kiss, one which you reciprocated fully in turn, especially when he gradually began sinking his weight down upon you, his pelvis meeting yours, letting you feel his hardness through the thin fabric of your underwear. 

“Mmph, Senku…!” you moan wantonly against his lips, opening your legs and wrapping them around him.

The sound seems to do something to him.

Senku lets out a groan deep into your mouth as his hips begin rocking back and forth. The friction between your bodies sends sparks of pleasure skittering through both of you, and whatever rhythm he starts with quickly falls apart. His movements become messy. Completely uncoordinated as he grinds himself against you.

The fabric separating the two of you was soaked by now, and Senku was clearly struggling to maintain control of his arousal.

You welcomed all of it.

You want him so badly you can barely think straight. Every coherent thought that enters your head immediately gets drowned out by another grind of his hips, another kiss, another groan caught between your mouths.

At this point, you couldn't care less about the repercussions.

The two of you just kept going.

Senku's pre-cum spilled from the tip, mixing with the slick you'd been producing and creating a sticky, wet mess between the two of you. Every movement only seemed to spread it further, making each grind of your bodies against one another feel even better than the last.

It felt so good, yet the greedy part of you still wanted more.

Every inch of him.

You found yourself wishing your panties would somehow be pushed aside, wishing he could finally feel you properly instead of through layers of damp fabric. The thought alone was enough to make you throb.

But alas, even you had some restraint.

So you settled for this.

The two of you kept grinding against one another, kisses growing sloppier and sloppier as the line between pleasure and desperation blurred. Every gasp was swallowed by the other's mouth. Every groan dissolved into another heated kiss.

It wasn't long before the tension finally snapped.

Your body trembled beneath him as pleasure crashed over you, leaving you breathless and boneless against the cot. Senku wasn't far behind. A broken groan spilled from his lips as he buried his face against your neck, his hips stuttering through the last of it.

When it was over, your underwear was thoroughly drenched—evidence of both your pleasure and his.

Senku's release spilled across your stomach, warm against your skin.

A small frown immediately tugged at your lips.

Even through your ragged breathing, you managed a huff.

"Such a waste..."

Senku lifted his head just enough to look at you. For a moment, he didn't say anything.

Then he shifted back onto his knees, fingers hooking wordlessly into the waistband of your panties.

"How about you let me make it up to you?"

an: love how my first course of action once getting home was to write smut… you can take the girl out of the hyperfixation but you can’t take the hyperfixation out the girl

on another, sappier note— i’m very excited to be finished with this first chapter of my life 🥹 honestly didn’t think i’d make it this far but here we are. and you know i had to double it!!! (got my diploma AND my AAS [more specifically ASN])

writing is a big comfort of mine so i’m glad to say i dedicated a lot of my free time toward the craft. anyway i doubt yall are actually reading this but yeah!! im super hyped rn (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

this is exhilarating, get excited!

The two of you are just trying to relax after a long day, slipping away to one of the hot springs tucked deep into the forest where the rest of the villagers rarely wander this late at night.

Steam rises in slow curls around the water, drifting up into the cool night air. The soft, white noise of insects humming and leaves rustling fill your ears in a comforting way.

The spring is warm enough to make your muscles ache pleasantly, heat soaking deep into your skin after days of constant work and exhaustion.

Your head tips back against the smooth stone behind you with a quiet sigh, eyes half-lidded as the tension slowly leaves your body.

Senku sits behind you, legs spread on either side of yours beneath the water, one arm draped loosely across the rocky edge of the spring while the other lazily traces shapes against your skin beneath the surface.

Neither of you speak.

It’s rare moments like this that feel almost surreal in the stone world. Moments where the constant pressure to survive calm down long enough for the two of you to simply exist together.

Maybe that’s why it feels so intimate.

Why the warmth of his body behind yours heats you in ways the spring itself cannot.

Why your breath catches the second you feel his lips brush against the back of your neck.

The kiss is soft at first—almost absentminded.

But then another follows—testing.

And another—teasing.

Slow kisses littered along the damp skin of your neck while steam curls around the two of you in lazy waves. His mouth drags upward toward your jaw.

You can feel the solid warmth of his chest against your back now, the rough callouses of his hands a stark contrast against skin softened by the spring.

One of those hands slides upward beneath the water—then the other.

His big palms cup your breasts fully, thumbs brushing over your nipples before his fingers begin tugging and circling them; rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingertips while he breathes you in like he can’t get enough. His mouth stays latched to your neck, sucking deep, lingering hickies in its wake, each one blooming hot against your skin.

A shaky sound slips from your throat before you can stop it.

Both of your hands move instinctively—one flying up to cover your mouth, trying to muffle the obscene, broken noises slipping past your lips, while the other reaches to clasp over one of his.

It does little to stop him though.

If anything, it only seems to encourage him further.

His hands are hungry—desperate in the way they roam your chest, greedily squeezing and groping to his heart’s content.

The roughness of his palms against your skin sends heat curling low in your stomach, your head tipping back against his shoulder as another shaky sound slips through your fingers.

However, you’re too caught up in the stimulation to realize one of his hands has stopped, it snaking up to capture the wrist of the hand covering your mouth.

His breath is hot against your skin, a shiver runs down your spine as he rasps in your ear,

“C’mon… let me hear you.”

Before you can react, his tongue drags slowly up the back of your neck before he blows on it softly.

The sudden coolness against damp skin pulls a helpless whimper from you instantly.

Senku chuckles quietly at your reaction.

Then his grip tightens just slightly around your wrist as he guides your hand downward, dragging it over your own body beneath the water.

Your palm presses against your stomach first.

Then lower—your waist, then over your hips.

Your breath hitches with every downward inch, anticipation bubbling hot in your stomach until finally—he presses your hand between your thighs.

Behind you, his nose nudges against your cheek, lips brushing just barely against your skin while his voice drops lower.

“I think you know what to do,” he murmurs softly.

A pause.

Then, quieter—

“Or… would you like a demonstration?”

an: sorry it's kinda ass... on another note though— how do we feel about ATLA? specifically Toph....👀 I'm gonna write for her regardless but I like hearing others opinions

New romantics The press is chasing the alleged new couple everywhere, here are some headlines

Doble date truth A double date brings back some confusing memories

your mom is such a mil- You didn't want to attract attention, you just wanted to spend a few minutes with your oldest son.

in all timelines. When the Justice League ends up in another timeline, they wonder what each of their lives will be like, but something surprises and traumatized Barry. (part one)

⤷in all the timelines, or not After passing through the portal to return home, everything apparently worked out fine, apparently... (parte two)

baby on board The entire League is invited to a dinner at Wayne Manor, but no one knows what it's about, so they start plotting until Bruce and you finally announce it.

⤷Why did your dad do that? League members already know the Wayne family is getting bigger soon, but your oldest son's friends are about to find out.

⤷he's such a dilf Bruce's wife is already four months pregnant, and her hormones aren't letting her live in peace. She can't stop seeing her husband for what he is: a hot DILF.

welcome to wayne Manor After a round of Gotham City, Bruce finds a lonely boy, and his paternal instincts are triggered by the impending birth of his little girl.

Mom, how do you met Bruce? Being close to giving birth, the boys Jason and Dick spend time around her, and on a rainy day, both are curious about their mother's past, and how Bruce could have had her.

⤷crawling back to you Even though everything was going great, the appearance of a person from their past disrupts everything they had achieved as a couple, but someone is willing to prevent their new happiness from collapsing.

interview interrupted Just a few weeks before your little girl is part of this world, you two decide to give Clark an interview for the Daily Planet so he'll stop interviewing himself for his news.

my little Vivian After Vivian's birth, Bruce begins to see life differently and just wants to be present with his little girl.

sweet horny wife Only Bruce Wayne knows both sides of his charming wife, and he loves both.

oh, it's... gold bruce buying reader gold jewelry when she’s a silver girlie and everyone tells him off about it even though the reader insists it’s okay

“yes, dray, you can come with me. we’re already here,” you said breathlessly, trying to shove the door shut with your hip whilst holding most of draco’s weight in your arms.

“mhmm, you’re warm” he made a pleased little sound against your skin and dropped his forehead heavily onto your shoulder. 

now, it didn’t help that draco malfoy got extra clingy around you whenever he was drunk. and to be completely honest, you were enjoying it more than anything. there was always something about being able to hold him close and taking care of him in a way he would never fully allow when he was fully in control.

you liked how he leaned into you without hesitation and trusting you enough to let his guard drop so that you could see the vulnerable side he kept hidden from everyone else.

he always found his way back to you. every. single. time.

his cold fingers somehow managed to find their way beneath the hem of your shirt to settle at your waist, holding on as though you might vanish if he let go. wrapped around you, the blend of his expensive cologne and firewhisky made everything felt pleasantly lightheaded.

draco made no effort to hold himself up and instead, started rambling incoherently about mattheo owing him money before losing track of his own sentence. he kept on leaning shamelessly against you as you guided him down the hallway with both hands still braced at his waist. 

“y’sleepin’ with me t’night?” he slurred as you guided him into your shared bedroom and eased him down onto the bed.

“i am, dray,” you said as you brushed the blond strands away from his forehead. his cheeks were still flushed pink, and his grey eyes had gone visibly heavy with sleep, blinking slower by the second. 

he let out a quiet hum at you, shoulders loosening into the mattress. his hand lifted sluggishly and searched blindly for you until his fingers found yours and curled them in his bigger one lazily. 

“good,” he mumbled. “hate wakin’ up without you,”

your chest tightened. even in the state of half asleep and drunk, draco could still say things that made your heart start beating rapidly.

“the things you would do,” you muttered, letting go of his fingers and finally tugging off his remaining shoe, setting them aside. “drinking yourself senseless over some ridiculous bet with mattheo,”

draco cracked one eye open, “still won,” he informed as the corner of his lips raised softly. 

you shook your head, trying not to smile as you reached to unbutton his linen white shirt. your fingers worked them open one by one while draco watched through half-lidded eyes, not wanting to miss the way the moonlight caught softly along the soft curve of your face.

the white shirt slid off his arms easily, leaving him shivering as the lingering cold clung to his bare pale skin. draco made no move to help and only tipped his head back further against the pillows and let you fuss over his belt and trousers before carefully taking them off.

“comfortable there?” you murmured dryly as you stood. 

“mmm,” draco hummed softly as he watched you make your way to the walk-in wardrobe. 

after a moment, you came back with a fresh set of comfortable clothes for him.

he gave you the faintest smile as he noticed you had changed into a baby pink pyjama shorts and his white t-shirt that looked way too large for you. still, draco always adored you whenever you wore his clothes—you made them look better, he said.

“c’mere,” you climbed onto the bed next to him and tugged him upright gently. he let you pull him closer until he was finally sitting properly. surprisingly enough, he complied without protest tonight. 

you guided him to lift both of his arms and pull the clean shirt down over his head.  for a moment, he disappeared beneath it, then re-emerged with pale hair even messier than before. you smoothed the shirt down his chest as he watched your hands the entire time until they settled on his lap.

“up,” you said low enough for him to hear and gave his thigh a light tap.

a crooked smile found its way onto draco’s face at your command, but he still did it anyway. draco wouldn’t admit it loud, but he found it extremely hot when you took charge like that. 

he lifted his hips just enough to make it easier for you to slide the new pants into place, and shivered faintly when your fingers brushed against the side of his shin.

“there, feel better now?” you said quietly once his pants were on properly and adjusted the waistband into place while his eyes stayed on you with a steady focus. 

“d’you know you’ve got the prettiest face ever?” he murmured, completely ignoring your question.

a soft laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it. “well, it’s a good thing you tell me that every day,”

“i do?” he asked, catching your wrist, before you could even answer and tugged you down to his side on the mattress. draco didn’t waste a second when he finally had you close. though, in truth, he hadn’t left your side just a few hours ago at the reunion party with your friends from hogwarts—not even once. 

he loved how easily your face always seemed to settle against his neck like a missing piece finding its place.

you reached to cradle his face in one hand while your other one laced with his. leaning in, you pressed a quick kiss on his lips.

“mm, you promised me that in your vows, baby,” you giggled, peppering more kisses along his jaw.

despite the alcohol, a moment of realization finally struck draco. his gaze dropped to your intertwined fingers; and that’s when he noticed the delicate diamond ring sitting proudly on your fourth finger. the very same one he had chosen with his dear mother a few years ago.

he observed the way the band encircled your finger quietly, reminding him the truth that he had chosen, again and again; that you were his wife. a promise he had made and never once let go of, and never would.

his hand stilled for a moment before his thumb began to move and fiddled with the ring, turning it ever so slightly. draco toyed with it gently. the band shifted slightly beneath his touch until his thumb caught on something carved into the inside of the ring.

Eternally Yours.

his breath hitched softly as he pulled you closer. before you could even settle, draco shifted with ease. he rolled you gently beneath him until your back was pressed against the surface of the warm sheets and hovered over you instead.

merlin, his stormy grey eyes looked even more beautiful from this sight.

draco looked at you for a moment before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. it was slow and deep. your fingers immediately found their place around his neck, brushing against the platinum curls at his nape.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed on yours and his lips brushed against your mouth.

“means i’ve been doing it right, yeah?” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “but darling, above all things, i want you to know this—even without any promise between us, i’d still look at you and let you know how beautiful you truly are. that’s simply the truth, baby,”

his hand reached up and brushed a couple strands of hair out of your face. what draco said was true. even when he was intoxicated with firewhisky, he always meant it. hell, he would’ve told the entire world how much he loved you and that you were the prettiest thing to be alive.

you smiled softly, before pulling him back in and kissed him again with more passion this time.

“thank Merlin, i married a man of his words.”

a/n: edited!

GRABBING HER KEYS OFF OF THE SIDE OF HER BEDROOM TABLE,

y/n fisher snuck down the stairs of her house, with the only sound echoing off the walls were her keys jingling as she made her way out, and the door locking behind her.

as she made her way out, she saw her car sitting in the same spot it had been for the past six days.

slowly opening the door to the 98 mustang, y/n got in, before turning the key, and the opening notes to marjorie by taylor swift had started to play. quickly shutting off her radio, the girl took in a shaky breath, trying to keep her composure until she got to her destination.

deciding to hit shuffle on her playlist, y/n gripped the wheel hard before putting the car in reverse, and backing out of her driveway in cambridge massachusetts.

it would take her an hour to get to where she needed to go, but the way she was going, it would take less than that. she was determined to get there as fast as she could, and as quickly as she could away from the house she used to call home.

six weeks, 4 days, and 25 minutes since she last had her mother here. 1,104 hours since she didn’t feel numbness, since she didn’t have blinding rage that turned her into a person she despised. 

46 days since the glue that held her family together came unstuck, and it all fell apart.

ever since susannah fisher had died, the youngest fisher hadn’t been the same.

grief had made her shut down, bursting at the seams with seething rage. the fisher that was known as the kindest girl in cambridge had become inconsolable, angry and resentful towards everyone around her.

she had shut out everyone who tried to get in. her best friend, belly and steven who had tried to call right after susannah had passed, and both of her brothers no matter how hard they both tried.

she was on her own, and it was her own doing. y/n knew it, her best friend grace knew it, hell- her own father who she barely acknowledged knew it.

y/n had always heard that grief changed people, it turned them into people that had been hiding deep down, under anger, sadness, resentment and agony. she never once believed it because she had never seen it. too young, too naive, and too joyful to believe that someone could change that fast at the drop of a hat.

she didn’t believe it until she became that person herself.

resentful, depressed, and in so much agony it caused her physical pain.

y/n could feel the same pain filling her as she cross the sagamore bridge, and soon enough, she was pulling into the same driveway she had left less than a year ago, except back then she had her mother right by her side, in the passenger seat as they drove back home.

exiting the car, she saw the house known as ‘beck’s house’ the same way the fisher’s had left it the summer before. with the flowers they had planted now shriveled up and dead, describing the way y/n felt.

she grabbed the blanket she always kept in the back of the car before making her way down towards the beach, with the sun barely above the horizon. purple, pink and blue painted the sky as the 16 year old wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, reminding her of her mother.

y/n couldn’t escape it. everywhere she went she saw her mother. the starbucks they would stop at everyday her freshman year, the bakery they went to every friday, and even driving the car that was once her mom’s.

everywhere she went, y/n saw susannah fisher.

it made her angry. it made her absolutely furious that everyone else could go on with their lives, with both of their parents and their families happy and joyful. it made her furious that she wouldn’t have her mom there to give her tips on how to do her makeup, to see her off to college, and she wouldn’t be able to have her mom see her in a white gown, walking down the isle as she got married.

everyone else but y/n fisher would be able to experience that.

hot angry tears started to roll down y/n’s fiery cheeks that were filled with rage, and her fists balled up, her short nails digging into her skin as she tried to watch the sunrise, but she couldn’t.

the longer she sat there, the angrier she got, before she finally ripped off her blanket, and stood up.

she looked towards the flower bed her mother always kept towards the beach, with decorative rocks holding them down, before grabbing as many as she could and tossing them into the ocean one at a time, each representing the innocence, and opportunities she had lost.

y/n watched as they sunk into the ocean, representing the sinking feeling she couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard she tried, until her hands were empty, but the agony she felt was still there.

and no matter how hard the youngest fisher tried, it continued to rise until she couldn’t take it anymore.

a scream erupted from her lips as she heard footsteps quickly approaching her, but she refused to see who it was. y/n hands shook as she searched the sand for more rocks, or even sea-shells until she found one, and chucked it as hard as she could into the ocean.

the h/c girl stopped in her position as conrad stood in front of her, stopping her from searching for more things to throw. she could see jeremiah right on the side of conrad, and the concern on their faces scared her.

it was at that moment, she felt the bottle that held all of her grief, shattered.

the hot angry tears turned into agonizing sobs, ones she couldn’t hold off any longer. for the first time since her mothers death, y/n had broke.

she felt conrad's arms wrap around her as her sobs became louder and louder, and jeremiah soon joined in, both fisher boys not realizing how bad y/n had been. grief had slowly been consuming her, and neither of them had seen it.

they both knew she hadn’t been sleeping, and the only thing they ever saw her eating or drinking was the starbucks drink she always had in her hand. the entire family was so wrapped up in their grief, they never saw how bad everyone actually was.

the fisher siblings stood there for a long time, before y/n’s tears had become silent, and y/n and conrad sat there, watching the ocean as jeremiah had run to grab the three’s breakfast from the front porch.

“how long have you been this angry?”conrad questioned as he looked over at the girl, finally taking notice of how bad she looked. she had purple bags under her eyes, and had lost so much weight that to conrad, his little sister had almost become unrecognizable. 

“almost two months.”y/n whispered as jeremiah had come back, with two starbucks bags in his hands for the fisher siblings. conrad stared at the girl as jer gave everyone their items, and y/n took a drink of her refresher, trying to avoid her brothers looks.

“why didn’t you say anything?”jer asked softly, watching as his baby sisters hands shook, and she kept silent for a few moments before finally speaking up.

“sometimes in my mind, the best thing to do is to bottle everything up and wait until i shatter.”the h/c girl explained, sniffing before she took another sip of her drink, “plus i’m not the only one grieving, you two have been as well and i didn’t want to put that on you.”

the fisher brothers shared a look, now knowing how bad things had really gotten for the girl without them realizing it. “when was the last time you slept or ate?”conrad questioned, and y/n shrugged, not really knowing how to answer the question that was presented in front of her.

“i usually try to sleep during the day. everything keeps me up at night.”she whispered, before jeremiah hugged her from the side, leaving the three siblings in silence, except for the waves crashing against the shoreline.

the sun hung low over the hills outside the city, painting the fields in soft golds and oranges that levi ackerman had never thought he’d live long enough to see. he sat on the porch of the small house they’d given him — more like a cottage, his wheelchair creaking faintly as he shifted. the teacup in his hand had gone cold ten minutes ago. he didn’t care.

he still waited.

every evening, like clockwork, some stupid part of his brain expected the familiar sound of your boots on the wooden steps. the quiet “tch, you’re staring again, captain” that always came with that half smirk of yours. the way you’d drop down beside him without asking, shoulder brushing his, smelling faintly of gunpowder and soap no matter how many years had passed since the last expedition.

but you never came.

because you were dead.

that was the fact he repeated to himself like a mantra. he’d seen it. or close enough. the final chaos of the rumbling, the sky tearing itself apart, titans crumbling into bone and dust. you’d been assigned to the eastern flank with the remaining scouts — trying to buy time for the others. when the dust settled and the reports came in, your squad was listed as KIA. no body recovered. too many had been vaporized or buried under the collapsing walls of the world.

levi had read the list once. then burned it.

he hadn’t cried. not then. not in front of anyone. he’d simply wheeled himself away from the makeshift command tent and stared at the horizon until his remaining eye burned. you idiot, he’d thought. i told you not to play hero.

months had passed. the world tried to rebuild. he tried to exist in it.

some days were better. onyankopon visited often, bringing absurd contraptions and worse jokes. gabi and falco stopped by like noisy puppies, arguing over who got to push his chair when the ground was uneven.

but nights were brutal.

he would wake up reaching for the empty side of the bed, phantom pain shooting through his missing fingers, his body remembering the weight of you curled against him. the rare nights you’d both let the walls down completely. your voice in the dark, soft and stubborn:

“i’m not leaving you, levi. not even if the whole damn world ends.”

you were alive.

hundreds of kilometers away, in a quiet coastal village on the mainland that had once been part of marley’s outer territories, you limped down the dirt path toward the small clinic you helped run. your left leg still ached when it rained—souvenir from shrapnel and a collapsed building but you were breathing. walking. helping the locals treat the endless stream of refugees and wounded.

you’d been separated from your squad in the madness. dragged half dead from the rubble by a group of marleyan defectors who’d chosen survival over loyalty. they’d smuggled you across the sea with other survivors. communication with paradis had been cut off for months afterward. by the time letters could be sent, rumors had already solidified into facts.

captain levi ackerman had been told you were dead.

you’d written him anyway. three letters. each one returned unopened, marked undeliverable — recipient deceased or simply lost in the chaos of new postal systems. the last one you’d clutched in your hands until the ink smeared, then tucked it into the bottom of your bag like a wound that refused to close.

levi was in the market square when it happened.

he rarely went himself, usually sent one of the kids but today the walls had felt too close. he needed air. needed to remind himself the world was still turning even if you weren’t in it.

falco pushed the chair while gabi argued with him about bread prices. levi tuned them out, single eye scanning the crowd out of old habit.

then he saw you.

you were standing at a stall across the square, bargaining for bandages and herbs, your hair longer than he remembered, a scar he didn’t recognize cutting across your cheek. you looked… alive. tired. real.

his heart slammed against his ribs so hard he thought it might crack what was left of him.

“stop,” he said, voice low.

falco halted. “levi?”

levi’s hand gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. you turned slightly, profile catching the sunlight, and he felt the ground tilt.

it couldn’t be.

he’d buried you. In his mind, a thousand times.

he’d carried that weight like the stump of his leg—phantom and permanent.

you looked up. your eyes met his.

the world went silent.

you dropped the bundle of herbs. they scattered across the dirt like forgotten bones.

“levi…?”

your voice cracked on his name. you took one step, then another, limping faster, ignoring the stares. he couldn’t move. couldn’t speak. just watched you come closer like some ghost that had finally decided to haunt him in daylight.

when you reached him, you fell to your knees right there in the dirt, hands shaking as they hovered near his, afraid to touch and discover he wasn’t real.

“i thought–” your voice broke. “they said you died. they reports…everyone said—”

levi’s throat worked. he reached out, slow, and cupped your scarred cheek with his remaining fingers. warm. alive. the calluses were the same.

“you fucking idiot,” he whispered. the words came out rough, almost angry, but his eye was wet. “i thought you were gone.”

a sob tore out of you. you pressed your forehead to his knee, shoulders shaking. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry i was late.”

falco and gabi stood frozen a respectful distance away, eyes wide.

levi leaned forward as much as his broken body allowed, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

he breathed you in — soap, herbs, and the faint metallic tang of old blood that never quite washed out. the same.

“you’re here,” he said against your hair. it wasn’t a question. it was a fact he was still trying to believe.

you nodded, clinging to him like he might vanish. “i’m here and I’m not leaving again. not ever.”

for the first time since the war ended, levi ackerman let himself believe in something after the end of the world.

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When Levi looked at you there was no doubt that there was an ocean of emotions behind every glance.

Love, adoration, need. 

He always looked at you with eyes that told you everything he couldn’t manage in words. The sight of him doing so sent you back and forth between the moon and Earth, suffocating you the right way.

It still gives you butterflies—and you two have been together for almost a decade. 

What makes it all the more sweet was the fact that he has always been observant. Those beady eyes of his never misses anything. Not the tiniest detail. Knowing that with you, it was ten times more sharp, it made you melt at the thought that someone exists to adorn you the way he did.

Everything you did, he watched. It wasn’t the gaze that overwhelmed you, rather, it was the kind that made you feel seen. The kind that made you feel all fluffy inside and made your blood boil up to your cheeks, because for a man who always glared at people—you were the only exception.

“I’ve got the list saved on my phone just in case.” You said, just now pocketing your mobile as you looked over to him for a second before digging back into your bag to check for your wallet.

It was Sunday, the day of the week you two agreed on as the day for groceries and house chores. It was your turn to go out for the supermarket while Levi stayed back to handle the laundry. 

“You can always text me to ask if you missed anything.” He replied walking up to you by the main door in his rather white cleaning get-up.

For a moment, he was watching you rummage through your bag, then Levi’s eyes flicked to the side. Your wallet—the one you were aggressively looking for through your bag—sat comfortably on the corner of the table by the door. He sighed and grabbed it, deliberately slipping it into your bag for you to see that it wasn’t in there in the first place.

You looked up and caught sight of that damn barely-a-smirk of his, “thank you.” you huffed, running your hand through your hair and you straightened your shirt. “I’m off.” 

Levi tilted his head slightly to one side and you just had to witness him scan you from head to toe—you had to start verbally recalling what you remembered from the list to keep your face busy and not full on blow out into a flustered mess. 

“Medium eggs, milk, butter…shampoo…fabric conditioner,” Your brows raised. His eyes were still tracing you, “...milk.”

Levi finally stopped to meet your gaze, crossing his arms loosely while he quirked a brow, not entirely oblivious of the effect he had on you, “We don’t need two cartons of milk.” He said. 

You shook your head lightly, “I didn’t say two cartons.” You recovered, whipping your head away and towards the door with a heavy exhale to calm yourself down. 

"You said milk twice.” 

The door handle was snug in your hand already, tighter when he’d replied. All you had to do was twist it and bid farewell—but you just had to glance back to give him some form of a comeback to redeem yourself.

Levi just stood there, existing—looking at you with eyes that said you were the only one thing worth watching in this world. The only person worth the softness in his gaze. The one and only he’d ever look at this way.

“Stop that.” You choked a scoff, hand slipping from the door knob. 

He turned his head slightly, then back, arms dropping from the way they were crossed, “What?” he asked, the small distance between the both of you suddenly gone. 

You swallowed, his mouth twitched. 

“That,” a pause, you look away, “do you not want me to leave?” 

Levi’s hand raised just enough to prop your chin on the flat of his knuckle. He didn’t need to tilt you up or anything—short husband—but he did along with turning your head, just barely to get your face parallel to his, “do you want me to answer that?” his voice smoothened. 

The hand you had on the door knob was off it already, now palming the warm center of Levi’s chest, his heart a low murmur against your skin. You watched the way his eyes flickered from one feature on your face to another. 

He just had to linger longer on your lips before he returned to your eyes. 

It didn’t take him another second to press his to yours.

The kiss was warm—kind, your eyes automatically closed after the first second of surprise. The feeling of his thumb dipping your chin closer into him sending your head into spirals, you both fit too perfectly you might as well have forgotten what you were supposed to be doing. Levi pulled away before you could savor the taste of him in your mouth longer. It took you a second to recover from the high, and he was already eying you with a knowing look.

Damn him and his eyes. Might as well curse his lips too.

When he let your face go, you inhaled sharply and poked your tongue into your cheek, both of your lips still slick of each other’s flavor. 

“Okay. I'm going.” You finalled, turning quickly to the door again, now successfully twisting the knob, pushing the door open. You look back again, mouth open to say something like “bye.”—”see you later.”—instead your voice failed you. 

Levi looked like he didn’t want you to leave for the supermarket. In fact he looked like he wanted you in his arms or in the fucking bedroom. 

“Don’t tempt me.” You hissed, knowing full well that the way he was looking at you made your legs want to pivot and shut the door to outside behind you. 

The afternoon light slipped through the open door, the light illuminating him and silhouetting you. Watching your dilemma, Levi finally broke eye contact with you and you just existing, reaching for the top of your head. 

“Be careful.” His words were quiet, the pat on your head soft. 

Honestly, if you hadn’t chosen to walk out right then and there—you were never going to be able to go grocery shopping today. 

'til next time. cheers, my love