Ally

🗡 — Ally (she/they)

💀 — Current Hyperfixation(s): Poppy Playtime (specifically Harley Sawyer / The Doctor)

📖 — Find me on wattpad! @caffeinatedinks — that's where you can find full length (and mostly incomplete with slow updates) fics and bigger projects!!

KPOP Demon Hunters Masterlist

Devour Me [VSMP Fanfic Masterlist] — SLOW UPDATES

Creepypasta Masterlist [COMING EVENTUALLY]

Before You [Poppy Playtime Fanfic Masterlist] — ON HOLD!

> Poppy Playtime

> K—Pop Demon Hunters (Saja Boys centric, but i love HUNTR/X)

The list is always growing and decreasing based on my interest, so check back regularly and see if it changes!

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Chapter One: Day One

You swallowed, trying to compose yourself.

"Yes… yes, I'm fine. I was just… surprised."

He approached slowly, like someone approaching a small animal they want to observe closely without scaring it. Or, in his case, like a man who had just discovered that his voice could make you tremble.

"Were you surprised… by what exactly?" he asked, leaning slightly forward to get a better look.

You looked away, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

"By… by your accent."

Alastor's smile became slow, satisfied, dangerously charming.

"Does my southern accent bother you?" he asked, moving even closer.

" "I-I didn't say that…"

He chuckled softly and took you by the waist, with a gentleness that contrasted with the firmness of his fingers.

"No, you didn't say it. But you showed it very well," he whispered near your ear.

Your knees almost buckled. Alastor felt it. He held you tighter, as if he'd been expecting it.

"Careful, my love… if you react like this to a word, I don't know what I'll do to you," he murmured with that marked, slow, delicious accent.

You hid your face in his chest, utterly embarrassed. And he chuckled softly, completely pleased.

Later, you were in the living room. You were trying to concentrate on a book, but he moved around the room with that irritatingly perfect elegance, as if he knew you were watching him out of the corner of your eye.

At one point, he needed a notebook and asked you:

"Pass me la petite noire, ma chérie…"

The sound of the French words struck you like lightning. Your breath caught in your throat. The book slipped from your hands and fell to the floor with a thud.

Alastor looked up immediately.

And when he saw your wide eyes, your flushed cheeks, and your mouth trembling, speechless… He set the notebook aside and walked slowly toward you, savoring every step. He crouched down to your level and placed a hand on your knee.

"Cherie… is everything alright?"

You didn't answer. It was impossible. Your throat wouldn't allow it.

He brought his face close to yours. His nose brushed your cheek. His warm breath caressed your ear.

"Does my French make you feel this way…?" he asked in a low, deep voice.

You let out a sound you didn't even know you were capable of. A small moan mixed with nervous laughter. Something completely involuntary.

Alastor smiled, sliding his hand up your thigh to help you keep from falling off the chair.

"God… you're adorable," he whispered.

He took you by the waist and pulled you toward him, sitting you on his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Your legs trembled. He placed one hand on your back, the other on your thigh, holding you steady.

"If you only knew what it does to me to see you like this…" he said, this time in French, soft, slow, dangerously intimate, "viens ici, mon cœur…"

You clung to his shirt. Your chest rose and fell rapidly. You were far, far from being able to maintain any dignity.

He knew it. And he chuckled softly, a mixture of tenderness and mischief in his voice.

“My love…” he whispered, his lips brushing your neck without quite kissing you. “If I can melt you just by talking… imagine what I could do if I really wanted to.”

Your nails dug into his shoulder. He tilted his head, savoring every micro-reaction.

“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asked.

“Do you want… a little more of my accent?

Or… do you prefer my French, hm?”

The way your body responded was all the answer he needed. And he, smiling like the elegant devil he was even in human form, rested his forehead against yours and murmured:

“Very well, darling… Then I’m not going to stop talking at all.”

His only saving grace is you, another agent who he works with on his rare duo missions. You’re just about the only other single person in the entirety of the DSO—that’s what it feels like. Sometimes, you two will sit at events and roll your eyes at people showing off their partners. Then an awkward silence after of a silent agreement ‘cause you both know you’re just envious.

“Do you think we can call in sick?” Leon sighs as you both sit in your hotel room before you have to leave for an event. This ceremony thingy-bullshit is a bigger, more nationwide one that your boss sent you both to. One room, but two beds, at least. Cheapskates knew you didn’t have significant others and didn’t bother with privacy.

“I mean, prolly… but we lowkey might get flamed,” you reply. He leans against the doorway of the bathroom as he watches you do your makeup. The pretty, long dress you have on is a far cry from the tactical gear he usually pairs you with. Both looks are hot as hell, he definitely can’t deny that. He’ll just tuck that secret in his pocket for now.

“Well, hurry up. Maybe we can show up and leave as quick as possible,” he says as he checks his watch and pretends as if he didn’t just try to check you out. Not that it would be the first time.

Extremely unfortunately, you make it to the event, dreading every click of your heels against the marbled floors as you step inside. This one’s clearly expensive and fancy—that’s worse. The bar quickly becomes Leon’s victim. He lets you know he’ll get you a drink while you find them a spot at a table with an easy escape.

Well, he didn’t really expect to come back and find some guy hitting on you. He’s more curious than annoyed, but it’s there. This guy has the audacity to hit on a girl like you?

“Really? They flew you all the way out here, huh? So you’re pretty special,” this idiot smirks, thinking his blinding white teeth are gonna win you over. Leon can tell you’re irritated.

“Sure, you could say that,” you reply with pursed lips and your best disinterested voice. Your gaze shifts briefly to Leon standing behind him who looks amused. You’re only taking note of your drink that he’s holding.

“Well, special lady, would you maybe like to go to dinner with me somewhere more… private?” He lowers his tone leaning in a little, thinking he’s smooth as hell.

“Uh… no, y’know my schedule’s kinda full…” you shake your head, using that very obvious rejection tone. If he hasn’t taken the hint already, he has to take it now, right?

“Okay, no date. Maybe just uh… a night together?”

Nope. You were stupid to think a man would ever take a hint.

His tone makes it obvious what he’s asking, he wants his head under your dress. He says it like he knows you’ll say yes.

“Oh, I’m celibate, actually,” you smile tersely. He gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you.

“Really? A pretty girl like you isn’t interested in sex?” He raises an eyebrow, taking a step closer as if that’s gonna fix your supposed virginity. “I find that hard to believe, sweetheart.”

“Ah, too bad. Really sucks when not every living female wants to fuck you, huh?” You can’t help but mock, returning the raised brow. “Afraid it’s just gonna be you and your fist tonight.”

He scoffs, trying not to look as offended as he clearly feels. He finally seems to take the hint. “God, some special lady you are,” he grumbles, pushing off the chair he was leaning on and giving you a look before disappearing.

“Celibate? Really?” Leon chuckles when he finally gets to talk to you again, holding out a glass of wine for you. He knows first hand that you're just about the opposite of celibate. You’ve been out drinking together multiple times… one thing leads to another.

“Just a white lie, cant hurt,” you shrug with equal amusement. You finally sit down at your carefully scouted table right next to the exit for a quick, uninterrupted escape.

The rest of the night is as boring as you expected, but a couple more glasses of wine gets you through it. The millisecond you receive your awards—some bullshit that you don’t even think needs to be awarded—you and Leon are out of there. You’ve never been more happy to see your hotel room.

Taking your time undressing and relaxing for a while, eventually you turn in for sleep. You’re even wearing your cute silky set, all curled up under the sheets. And clutching them tightly. It’s literally freezing.

“Mmh, Leon…” you mumble, trying desperately to warm yourself up. You look over your shoulder at his bare back turned to you on the other side of the room. When did he take his shirt off? “Are you awake?”

After hearing a quiet grunt, you continue. “Are you cold? I’m freezing.”

“No. ‘S hot as hell,” he grumbles. He waits for you to say something else, and just as he’s about to offer you all his sheets, he hears shuffling from your bed. A moment later, he feels the mattress dip behind him and turns over to see you kneeling on the bed and inviting yourself in.

“Y’don’t mind if we cuddle?” You murmur, slipping under the covers. He swallows as he sees your cute pajamas with the lace and he can already tell this isn’t gonna end with just cuddling. He wordlessly opens his arms up for you, wrapping them around you when you make yourself the little spoon.

He makes sure the sheets are pulled up over your shoulders, rubbing your arms and thighs underneath to try to warm you up. “Still cold?”

Well, not really. You're very hot now, actually, but you nod your head, mumbling yes.

“Want me to warm you up another way?” Leon offers, his voice quiet and rough in that way that sends a shiver down your spine. He rubs his nose against your neck, fingers brushing up under your shirt. How are you supposed to resist?

“Yeah,” you nod against the pillow, squirming slightly as he rubs your side—ticklish little thing. You help shift your legs as he pushes your shorts and panties down.

“There you go. I got you,” he murmurs, sliding his hand back up the inside of your thigh. He kisses the side of your neck as his fingers part your soft curls to get to your pussy. You can feel him smirk against your skin when he feels how wet you are.

“Doesn’t feel very cold to me,” his warm digits spread your slick around, finding your clit with ease and gently circling it with his middle finger. You whine quietly, hands grabbing his forearm that’s around your waist.

You’re snug but not tight around his fingers, easily dipping them in your wet cunt and spreading you open. He shifts, almost draping himself over you to “keep you warm” as he fingers your needy little pussy and gets you nice and ready for him.

“Oh, Leon, right there,” you whisper into the pillow as he makes sure the heel of his hand is rubbing against your clit as he adds a third finger. Your hips lightly rock against his palm, your brows pulled into that soft crease that makes you look fucking adorable.

“Look at you, going around telling people you’re abstinent and yet you’re crawling into my arms,” Leon teases gently, curling his fingers in a slow, languid way that makes your spine straighten and your breath catch.

Just as you’re mumbling about getting close and about to cum, he takes his hand away with a kiss to your shoulder beside the strap of your top. You whine, but he turns you around in his arms with one of those dumb smirks.

“C’mon, girly, you’re on top tonight. Show me how celibate you claim you are, hm?” He taunts, bringing you with him as he rolls into his back, big hands on your soft hips.

“Ugh, how did I let you talk me into this? Didn’t we say we’d stop after last time?” You complain as you settle your hands on his bare chest, your naked hips lazily grinding against the tent in his pajama pants.

“We both know we can’t stop. ‘Sides, I barely talked to you, just tried to warm you up,” he grunts as you start dry humping him, rough hands sliding down your scarred thighs. Rubs his thumbs over the small, raised lines before giving you a light slap on the ass.

“Get going, princess. You’re slow,” he says with fake impatience, staring up at you with that cheesy smirk. You roll your eyes but start to pull down his sweats and boxers anyway.

Your hips shift restlessly with need as you grip his hard cock, giving it a couple light strokes before positioning yourself above him. With your eyes on your movements, you hold him still as you slowly sink down on him with a low, gravelly moan.

“Mmh—fuck, there you go. Hug me so nice,” he sighs with a grunt of your name as he watches you. You sit there on his cock, looking up at him expectantly. This is usually the part where he takes over again and holds you hips while he thrusts up into you.

He simply returns the look. Asshole. What happened to chivalry?

You sigh dramatically, your knees on either side of his waist as you find leverage with your hands behind you on his hard, strong thighs. You don’t usually do this part.

You suck in a breath, lifting yourself up a bit, and then back down with a soft moan. Up and down, up and down, grinding softly against him and keeping eye contact.

But it’s just not the same! Even as you keep up a nice rhythm, your soft moans getting louder and your grip getting tighter, he’s not deep enough. Not hitting the spots he usually gets.

“Leon, c’mon… it’s better when you do it,” you sigh as your hands come back to the front, tracing his abs as you do your damn best riding his cock. He simply stares, amused as his hands rub up and down your thighs.

“…Leon,” you say more firmly this time, hoping you can chastise him into fucking you. It doesn’t work, and you’re getting impatient. You groan dramatically, circling your hips as you lock your eyes on his. “Leon, just fuck me already! Fuck me hard!”

He can’t help but laugh. It gets him going to see you all frustrated, as much as he hates it when you’re anything but happy. Anyway, who’s he to deny you? His hands slides up to your hips, pausing to grope your ass before firmly planting themselves above your thighs.

“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before lifting you up and then pulling you back down to meet his thrust. A moan slips from both of you this time as your fingers dig into his bare chest.

“Mmh, fuck yeah Leon,” you groan, leaning back so you can see his face a bit better. Not for long, ‘cause then he pounds into you hard enough to pull out a high-pitched whine and make you throw your head back with pleasure,

“God, fuckin’ love that, don’t you? You can’t even ride me properly. Always need my help,” he grunts as his hips jump to meet yours every single time. He always scolds you in that sickly sweet voice that has your pussy dripping.

“Oh—mph! Right there—yeah, nail my shit, just like that,” you say breathlessly, your head dropping to his chest as one of your hands snakes beneath you to find your clit. A half moan-half growl slips from your lips as your back arches deliciously, teetering right on the edge.

“Jesus, cumming already? Needed it bad, did you?” He murmurs as he trails gentle, contradicting kisses compared to his rough thrusts against your shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart. Cum on my cock.”

It’s hard to hear his words over the squeaking of the bed and your own moans. Almost forgot you were in a hotel—no, you definitely did forget. That’s not what’s crossing your mind right now, though. You’re too busy crossing the finish line. Moaning his name, your fingers still on your clit as i grinds up into you to help you ride it out.

“That’s it, girly. Good girl,” Leon mumbles in your ears, rolling your hips against his pelvis. Once he’s decided you've had enough rest, he gently manhandles you onto your back, quickly pushing your legs up and squishing your knees against your tits as he gets right back to work.

His hands grip the backs of your thighs, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as he pounds into your pussy. His voice leaves him in harsh grunts and satisfied groans, his gaze fixed on his cock coming in and out of your soft cunt.

“Y-Y’know… how much it pissed me off… when that guy was flirting with you?” Leon grunts through gritted teeth, almost like he was trying to keep it back.

“Fuck… yeah?” You question through your sex haze. You guys don’t really talk about other people, or your feelings. Especially not towards each other. So to have him essentially admit that he’s jealous.

“Yeah, princess. Couldn’t believe he thought he had a chance with… you,” his words come out a little slurred—he always talks too much when he gets close. You whine softly, the jealousy woven in his voice making your insides quiver.

His hands grip tighter on your thighs, not enough to bruise but definitely no less than firm. He leans over you a bit, putting a little more of his weight on top of you as he fucks you harder. He barely manages to remember he didn’t use a condom, whining pathetically as he uses all the forces of his self restraint to pull out.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” he whispers under his breath, one big hand pushing your thighs together as he strokes himself with the other. You make sure you’ve got a front row seat to see his brows furrowed and your name falling helplessly from his lips.

Leon moans your name, his head falling back as he finally pours his hot, sticky cum all over the backs of your thighs. Rope after rope lands on the soft flesh, making him moan a little more as he squeezes as much as he can out of the tip. You look so pretty like that, he’d take a picture if he knew you wouldn’t kill him.

“Oh god… so perfect, sweetie. Did so well,” he mumbles lazily stroking himself a little longer before letting go. He smears a bit of jizz across your skin before bringing his thumb up to your mouth, letting you lick it off.

It takes a moment to recover with his thighs feeling like they’re on fire, but eventually he pats your hip and gets up. He finds a small towel in the bathroom and runs it under warm water to come clean you up. Once you have everything you need, he puts your panties back on and double checks that you're nice and cozy as his little spoon after a very abstinent night.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The light wakes you up in the morning, streaming in through the thin curtains. You grumble, waking up and shaking Leon’s shoulder awake soon after. He kisses you and says thanks for last night, before the two of you return to your “normal friendly mission partners” routine.

Just as Leon closes the door behind you, about to head out to go home, you glance over at the sound of the persom in the next room over leaving as well.

The last thing you expected was to lock eyes with the man who tried to hit on you at the event, looking tired as hell, as if he didn’t get any sleep.

“…you didn’t sound very celibate to me.”

a/n: hi hope u enjoyed!! any notes always super duper appreciated 🙌

You blinked at him, lips parting like you were about to play dumb. Then you saw his expression—the warning in his eyes, the dangerous calm in his voice. It wasn’t a request.

Your pulse fluttered. You rose without a word, letting him guide you through the candlelit maze of tables with his hand heavy at the small of your back.

The second they hit the polished black door of the restroom, Katsuki shoved it open, scanning to make sure it was empty before dragging you inside. The lock clicked, and then he had you pinned against the wall, dress hitched to your hips in one rough motion.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” His voice was low, rough, the kind of growl that made your thighs squeeze together. His mouth was hot against your jaw as he pushed your legs apart with his knee. “Teasing me all fuckin’ night. You want my attention that bad?”

You bit back a laugh, breathless already. “Maybe.”

That earned you a hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye. His other hand slid down between your thighs, finding you slick and aching. “Maybe, my ass. You’re dripping.”

Your gasp turned into a whimper as he dragged his fingers slowly, deliberately, keeping you right on the edge of more. “So tell me, baby. You want me to stop… or you want me to fuck you right here?”

Your back was pressed against the cold tiled wall, heart hammering as Katsuki’s hand tightened on your jaw. He tilted your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes. The restaurant’s muffled sounds were nothing compared to the silence in here—just the heavy drag of his breath, the faint buzz of the light overhead, and the obscene sound of his fingers dragging through your slick folds.

“Fuckin’ soaked,” he muttered, thumb circling your clit in lazy, taunting strokes. His gaze was molten, unreadable, like he was deciding whether to ruin you or let you suffer a little longer. “All this shit you’ve been pulling tonight… you think I wouldn’t notice?”

You gasped, gripping his wrist, but you weren’t trying to push him away. Your thighs shook as he brushed over you again, slower this time, deliberately. “I just… wanted to have some fun,” you whispered, breath uneven, that defiant smirk still lingering even as your knees threatened to buckle.

Katsuki’s laugh was dark, sharp against your ear as he pressed in closer. His chest was hard against your front, body heat surrounding you. “Fun?” His fingers slid inside you in one sudden, smooth thrust that made you cry out, muffling it against his shoulder. “You call teasing me in public fun?”

Your answer was a strangled moan, nails digging into the back of his shirt.

He pumped his fingers slowly, scissoring them apart, curling just right to make you clench around him. He wanted you squirming, whining, begging—but not yet. His thumb pressed down harder on your clit, drawing lazy circles, and your head fell back against the wall.

“Kats… please…” you breathed, your lips trembling against his jawline as you turned your head, trying to catch his mouth.

“Please, what?” He stilled his hand completely, leaving you desperate and twitching. His other hand held your hip firm, pinning you in place. “You spent the whole night pushing me. Now you’re gonna say exactly what you want.”

Your cheeks were hot, eyes glassy as you tried to grind down on his still fingers. “I want you…” Your voice was shaky, barely audible. “I want you to fuck me.”

That’s when he smirked. Low. Dangerous. The kind that promised he’d been waiting to hear that.

He withdrew his fingers slowly, deliberately, and brought them to his mouth. Sucked them clean right in front of you, groaning at the taste. “Good girl.”

In the next second, he spun you around, pressing your front against the wall. Your cheek met the cool tile as he shoved your dress up, baring your ass. You could feel the heat of him right behind you, the hard outline of his cock straining against his slacks as he ground against you.

“You'd better keep quiet,” he warned, undoing his belt with one hand, the clink of metal loud in the small restroom. “Unless you want the whole damn floor to hear you.”

You bit your lip, already trembling. “Then maybe you should fuck me quiet.”

He growled, low in his throat, grabbing your hair and tugging your head back so your mouth parted on a gasp. “Mouthy even now, huh?” He freed himself, stroking once, twice, before lining up against your dripping cunt. The head pushed in, stretching you slow, and you nearly choked on the whimper that spilled out.

The drag was agonizing—he took his time sinking into you, every inch deliberate. His hand at your hip pulled you back onto him, seating himself deep until your walls clenched tight around him. They both groaned, breath mingling.

“Fuck, baby…” he rasped, teeth grazing your ear. “So damn tight for me.”

Your hands braced against the wall, nails scraping tile as he drew back and slammed in harder this time. The wet slap of skin filled the space, the rhythm brutal from the start. Every thrust shoved you forward, your dress bunched high around your waist, your hair tugged tight in his fist as leverage.

“Wanted this attention so bad?” Katsuki growled against your neck, pounding into you mercilessly. “Then take it.”

Your cry was muffled as you bit into your own hand, the sound of his hips snapping against yours echoing in the restroom. He didn’t let up, angling his thrusts until you saw stars, each stroke hitting deep, his thumb finding your clit again and rubbing in sync.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” His voice was harsh, ragged with control, but the smirk was still there in his tone. “Cum right here, where anyone could walk in and see you getting wrecked?”

Your whole body trembled, your thighs giving out as he held you up, fucking you through the tight clench of your orgasm. You muffled your scream against your arm, body jerking as you came, soaking him.

Katsuki cursed, biting into your shoulder as he chased his own release. A few more punishing thrusts and he stilled, buried deep, spilling inside you with a guttural groan.

For a moment, all that filled the room was their ragged breathing, the sound of your hearts pounding in unison. His forehead rested against your back as he held your hips tight, like letting go might make you slip away.

Finally, he dragged his mouth along your shoulder, breath hot, and whispered, “Next time you pull that shit at dinner… I won’t even wait for the restroom.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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MHA MASTERLIST

WRITING COMMISSION

A deep ache throbbed behind your eyes, spreading towards your jaw and neck, reaching to your shoulder and seemingly finding a home there. It pulsed beneath your skin, feeling unbearably hot like something was trying to push out of it. Your body ached in strange places, soreness stretching to places you had never thought they could reach before. At least you could feel your heart thumping. That had to count for something. 

There was the inexplicable smell of alcohol and linen reaching your nostrils, causing your brows to furrow. Slowly, consciousness began to drag you towards some sort of light, eyelids feeling  impossibly heavy despite you forcing them open. A second passed where you looked towards the ceiling, the soft lantern light emanating across the wood. 

“Hey,” a voice came from beside you quietly. 

You blinked, slower, enough to turn your eyes toward the chair sitting near your bed. You turned your whole head then, feeling the softness of a pillow behind you. It was Eren. The moment that you made eye contact with him, relief hit his face, making your chest tighten painfully. He had clearly been sitting there for a while, slouched against the wooden chair beside your head with his arms folded over his chest. There were dark circles around his eyes and he looked so, so tired. 

“You look awful,” you mumbled weakly. 

Eren let out a tiny laugh. “That’s what you decide to say after being unconscious for almost two days straight?” 

You stared at him blankly. Two days? You tried to comprehend losing that much time, and you failed miserably. The only thing you could remember last was the forest spinning, Commander Erwin talking and Hange examining you. And then there was nothing. You squeezed your eyes shut, the movement sending another throb through your skull. 

“Don’t do that again,” Eren said, leaning forward in his chair. “You scared the shit out of everyone.” 

Your mouth twitched. “Everyone? 

“Yes, idiot. Everyone.” 

Something warm bloomed inside of your chest. Quiet footsteps echoed somewhere outside of the room, other soldiers returning to the mess hall for dinner. Everything felt too calm to be true, though that’s how infirmaries had always felt to you. Detached from reality, a place of rest. Your gaze shifted back to Eren. “How long have you been sitting there?” 

He shrugged his shoulders. “Only a few hours. We’ve all been taking shifts. Commander Erwin thought that it was unnecessary, but Captain Levi gave us the okay. He was the one who lugged you back most of the way.” 

Your brows furrowed. “Captain Levi?” 

Eren nodded once, stretching in the chair. “Yeah. He said that someone should stay in case you woke up confused. Maybe he actually felt bad for what happened.” 

You stared at Eren, a quizzical look on your face. Captain Levi feeling bad for anything felt almost absurd to think about. It wasn’t impossible, there had to be some humanity locked deep within him behind his cold gaze. But . . . it was strange to think about. Like trying to picture a wolf apologizing to a sheep after biting it. You shook your head, no. It didn’t make sense. He was probably just trying to cover his own ass after what happened. 

“He doesn’t seem like the type,” you muttered, something lingering oddly in your chest. Because despite everything, like the insults and the sharp remarks, and how he always seemed like he was one moment away from throwing half of you recruits into a wall — he still caught you. He still carried you back. And apparently, he still made sure that someone stayed behind while you were unconscious. 

Eren hummed. “He’s actually been checking in on you. Maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you think he does. He stopped by the infirmary once in a while to ask if you’d woken up yet.”

Heat reached your cheeks and you were lucky that the light was dim enough to not show it. 

“What did he say?” You asked. 

His expression flattened slightly, clearly trying to mimic Levi. “Is she awake.” A pause. “Is she dead.” Another pause. “Why is Hange still here.” 

Both of you erupted into fits of laughter.

Eren spent the next few minutes catching you up on some of the things that happened while you were unconscious. Everything seemed pretty typical, but a part of you knew that Eren was just trying to make you feel less bad about skipping whole days. He told you about all the people that came to see you. It seemed like you had made more of an impact on the people around you than you even noticed. Armin fell asleep in the chair beside your bed while trying to read to you (something about Hange saying familiar voices would take you out of your sleep), Mikasa threatened Connie at least twice for making too many jokes. Jean apparently complained the entire time he visited, but he had also been the first person to volunteer to watch you. 

It felt strange hearing all of it. Not a bad strange. Just incredibly unfamiliar. 

Before you had joined the Scouts, you hadn’t ever really stopped to consider what it would be like to belong somewhere. Truly belong somewhere. You had been pushed out of your home in Shiganshina by Titans, and forced to live the life of a refugee in a place where no one wanted you or your neighbors. Joining the military was a last ditch effort in order to stay with your friends at first, but now you couldn’t imagine yourself anywhere else. Being here had stitched everyone together in a messy and uneven way, something that would probably never fully come undone. Even now, waking up in the infirmary, there was someone sitting right beside you, waiting for you to wake up. 

“See? You’re not allowed to die now. Too many people would be annoyed about it,” Eren said, pushing your shoulder. “So don’t let something like this happen again, or we’ll think that you’re just doing it for attention.”

“You’re evil,” you stated, a grin on your face. 

Eventually, everyone heard that you were awake again and your friends came to visit you. That was, until Hange kicked them out and said that you needed your rest. Connie had attempted to argue, but Eren and Mikasa dragged him out by the collar with promises that they could come back and visit in the morning. As much as you wanted to stand up and leave with them, you knew that it was best to take it easy. You were still getting your strength back. Soon enough, you would be back on your feet. And everything would return to normal. 

Right? 

The evening had fully darkened now, moonlight slipping pale and silver through the infirmary windows. There were a few remaining sounds of soldiers moving through headquarters and somewhere in the small office that was nearby, you could hear pages turning. Hange, most likely. They were probably going over documents of her research until it calmed them to sleep. Did they ever sleep? You really weren’t sure. 

You shifted slightly beneath the blankets, trying to reach for the cup of water on the table beside the bed. However, you immediately regretted moving too much when the pain flared in your shoulder. Hange told you that it had almost been dislocated, and that you were lucky or that would have had you out of commission for a few weeks. Through your winces, you were able to take the cup and take a big gulp. It felt good down your throat, obviously parched from being asleep for two days. 

A quiet scoff came from the doorway. 

“You’re actually awake” 

Levi stood near the entrance of the infirmary, arms crossed over his chest while leaning against the doorframe, expression unreadable from so far away. From what you could see, there were bandages wrapped around one of his forearms that disappeared beneath the rolled sleeve of his white shirt. He walked closer now, crossing the room with the same authoritative drive he used when crossing the battlefield. Once he was at the foot of the bed, you could see the darkened bruises blossoming on the pale skin of his collarbone. He looked tired behind his eyes. 

He looked less like the untouchable strongest soldier and more like the man that you had been in the forest with, who had enough forethought to grab you so you didn’t end up with more injuries than you already had. A part of you wondered how badly he was actually hurt, and before you opened your mouth to say it, you thought about how it was better not to ask. 

“Hange said that your shoulder is still unstable,” Levi said. 

You glanced over your body, the bandaging wrapped beneath the straps of your black knitted tank top a testament to just how unstable it was. You shrugged with your good shoulder. “I’m hard to kill.” 

He huffed out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. His eyes were still looking at you and you almost felt like a bug under a microscope the way that they scanned from your shoulder to the cut that was already half healed on your cheek, your lip still cut and busted in one area. 

“You’re reckless,” he said finally, though it seemed to be less of an insult because it lacked its usual bite. “That isn’t the same thing as being hard to kill.” 

Your fingers tightened around the blanket in your lap. “You make it sound like I did it on purpose. I didn’t. I promise I didn’t see you there until it was too late. It was a one time—” 

He spoke your name, which cut you off from your half assed explanation of something that you weren’t even sure you were remembering correctly. Your name sounded weird on his lips. You were used to him calling you cadet, or soldier, or anything other than the name that you had been born with. There was no sharpness behind it either, just a soft syllabuled word like he had said it so many times before. Your heartbeat stumbled awkwardly beneath your ribs. 

You desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. Did he think that this was all your fault? Did he despise you for giving him injuries that he wouldn’t have if you had been looking where you had been going? 

Levi seemed to realize that he had been staring too long at you, because his expression began to harden again, putting an invisible distance between the two of you. “You’re off training for the next several days,” he said. 

Your face dropped immediately. “What? I’m fine.”

“You’re not using your ODM gear until Hange clears you.” 

It was a clear order. One that you knew you had to obey. 

The next two weeks passed strangely. It wasn’t slow, but also wasn’t quick. You were banned from ODM drills and almost all drills that didn’t have the gear either which, frankly, felt worse than your obvious head injury and your shoulder which had practically healed completely. While everyone else was off training in the forest or doing sparring drills or going out for small expeditions, you were stuck doing everything else. Inventory. Repairs. Cleaning. You were sure that if you had to wash the windows one more time or count another potato, you were going to explode. 

“He’s doing this on purpose. I’ve been fine for at least two days now and I’m still a glorified maid,” you complained to Sasha, scrubbing blood off of a set of blades that had been used in the latest expedition to kill some Titans that got too close to one of the walls. 

Sasha glanced over at the far side of the room where Levi stood, reviewing some paperwork beneath the dim lantern light. “Maybe he just likes staring at you.” 

You dropped the blade into the water bucket. Scrambling, you sifted your hand through the liquid to try and find it while saying, “What?” 

Sasha shrugged, like it was the most common thing in the world. “I’m just saying. He keeps assigning you to everything that keeps you very close.” 

You finally found the blade at the bottom of the bucket and pulled it out with an irritated splash, water dripping down your forearms while you held a scowl on your face. You told yourself that she was being crazy, that he was just keeping you close by in case your brain decided to hemorrhage or something like that. You spent so much time in your head, that was the whole reason that you had gotten hurt in the first place. 

You really needed to stop reading so much into things. 

And you really needed to stop looking for him every time you did something for some type of approval on his part. 

Unfortunately, your body decided to betray your mind, because even after telling yourself all of that, your eyes drifted toward the far side of the room where Levi was standing. The room was busy with soldiers doing menial tasks like cleaning gear and washing clothing and Levi still managed to look entirely separate from all of it. Completely self-contained, not worrying about anything around him. He was so sure of himself and his entire life that you wondered how long it had taken him to get to this point. You had heard the rumors about him, possibly too many rumors that you knew not all of them could be true. Though all of them had at least one thing in common with each other: he used to be very well known in the criminal underground before joining the Scouts. How he got to the Scouts was a bit of a mystery. Some people said that it was because he was bored being a criminal, and others said it was because Erwin took him captive and made him join the Scouts. 

Regardless, it all came down to the same idea that Captain Levi was incredibly different than almost everyone you had met before. 

The dinner bell rang and everyone was quick to finish or abandon their work. Once you polished the rest of the blade in your hand, you and Sasha walked into the hallway and met up with the others for another delicious meal of some-sort-of-vegetable-soup. You slid into your usual spot beside Eren, nudging him with your elbow before digging into your meal. 

“Oh, hey,” Eren said, nudging you with his own elbow in response. “I missed you out there today. It feels so wrong to see you just stand and feed the horses all day.” 

You sighed. “Tell me about it.” 

He laughed quietly beside you, the sound warm enough to pull a smile across your face. This was normal. You needed normal, especially lately. You listened while your gaze drifted absently across the mess hall. There were more soldiers coming in now, crowded into nearly every single table. And despite your better judgement, your eyes found Levi in the crowd. 

He sat near the farthest table from the entrance near Commander Erwin and Hange, with one hand curled around a teacup while the other seemed to fiddle with the same papers he had been looking at earlier. Your gaze lingered for only a second before you looked away, although it was too slow that you realized Eren had noticed. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

You blinked once, feigning indifference. “Hm?” 

“You zoned out again.” 

“Oh,” you said, shrugging. “Just tired, I guess.” 

Eren studied your face for another moment and you wondered if he could see through your lie. Another moment passed before he said, “You’ll be back to training soon. Don’t worry.” 

You nodded vaguely, lowering your gaze back towards your soup before Eren could say anything else. Around you, the conversation was shifting between if Connie could survive out in the wilderness alone while Sasha argued that he would die within hours. They kept talking while you tried your best to eat your food as fast as possible, longing for your bed and a good night's sleep. At least then you could begin to hope that you would be able to train in the morning. 

“Captain!” Armin exclaimed, looking at you, which made you raise your eyebrow. But then you heard the sound of shifting footsteps behind you, and it was then that you realized Captain Levi was standing right behind you and Armin was looking at him and not you. The entire table straightened, Connie stopped talking mid sentence and Mikasa lowered her fork from her mouth. Even Jean looked less interested in arguing about his wilderness survival now that Levi stood behind your shoulder. 

You turned in your seat, watching Levi look down at the table with an unreadable expression. His attention lingered briefly on the rest of your friends before settling on you. 

“Are you done eating?” he asked. 

You blinked once, glancing down at your mostly empty bowl. It had only been ten minutes of you sitting down, was he really going to make you do something else? You could only imagine what he was going to make you do now. Muck out the stables? Clean the floors near the bathrooms? You almost shivered at the idea of having to get your hands dirty like that. “Uh, Almost,” you replied. 

“After dinner, go to the library.” 

Your brows furrowed. “The library?” 

That dusty old place? What could Levi possibly want you to do there? You were sure that the room hadn’t been touched by any soldier since the military started using headquarters again. How could it have gotten that dirty? 

“There are old scouting formation records that need to be reorganized. It’s impossible to get records to Commander Erwin in the sorry state it's in right now,” he spoke. When he saw the quizzical look on your face, blinking a few times to make sure you were hearing him correctly, he spoke again. “You’re not training. Which means unlike anyone else, you shouldn’t be tired. Perfect for staying up later to do some paperwork.” 

Eren muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear it. You were too busy trying not to overthink the assignment or the fact that Levi had thought of you specifically for it. Again, you reminded yourself that you were thinking too much into things. It was a simple assignment, something that shouldn’t take too long and then you could go back to your life. And as far away as possible from whatever feelings you were having being near Levi for too long. 

“I can do that,” you replied. 

Levi sat farther into his heels, his eyes traveling from your eyes to the soft bandages that poked out of your uniform from your shoulder. He watched for a moment longer before walking away through the mess hall, boots echoing softly against the wooden floors. 

The library smelled of mildew and leather, a place that had a considerably less amount of foot traffic just by the looks of it. There was a fine line of dust along the top shelves where books that hadn’t been touched in years laid in wait. Luckily, those ones seemed to still be in chronological order. The ones that needed attending to were on the middle and lower shelves. It was clear that the groups of military who were here before left in some type of hurry, different papers strewn in between each book in a disorganized array. 

You dragged your fingers along the spine of one of the books while moving through the shelves, eyes scanning the faded lettering stamped along the leather bindings. Lanternlight glowed softly through the library, stretching shadows between each row of books, the heavy wooded doors fading any distant muffled noise. It felt almost abandoned, in the way that churches were quiet. 

A strange sort of heaviness settled in your body while you scanned each text looking for proper dates. Every single book in this room represented years of work, years of people fighting for the same thing that you were fighting for, and years of hope for a better life. Most of the soldiers that were in these past formations were probably not alive anymore, due to such a high casualty rate in the Scouts. Your gaze drifted to one of the papers sticking between two books, pulling it free and scanning the handwritten notes that covered the page. Words from a different time. 

To your right, Levi was sitting at the head of one of the many wooden tables, scanning over documents himself. It seemed like he was looking for something, the way that his long index finger traced the faded lines of text. If you watched him for too long, you found yourself staring at the vascular contours of his hands, a vein or two sticking out against his pale skin. The finger he was using traced so delicately as to not disturb the pages beneath it. 

You wondered, for a split second, if that finger would feel as delicate tracing the vertebra of your spine. And instead of the usual mortifying feeling you had thinking about your commanding Captain that way, all you could do was replay the motion over and over in your head. Your stomach twisted in on itself, the familiar feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. 

To try and combat this embarrassment, you looked back down at the papers in your hands, setting them down on the table and beginning to order them by date. Your fingers moved quicker than your thoughts, trying so desperately hard not to think about Levi touching you in any capacity beyond dragging you out of life-threatening situations or carrying you from the forest after you passed out from injury. It was one thing to notice that he was attractive, unfairly attractive, but it was another thing to imagine the exact way that his hands would roam your body while standing only a few feet away from him. 

Levi sighed, a sound that caught your attention in the intimate space between the two of you. When you turned to look at him, he had his hand running through his dark hair to the back of his neck, an obvious tiredness in his actions that made you wonder why he insisted on doing this tonight instead of tomorrow in the morning. Your memories flashed back to that night you had been outside with him and how late that was. Perhaps he also had trouble sleeping after all of these years. 

“Something wrong, Captain?” You asked, trying to make polite conversation regardless of your splintered and fractured feelings towards him. His hand paused briefly where it rested against the back of his neck before dropping back down to the papers. There was such a pregnant pause between your question and his answer that you almost thought he would ignore your question entirely. 

He leaned back into his chair, the creak of wood under the legs of it. “Headache.” 

You pretended that you didn’t hear the gruffness of his voice when he said it, the low timbre scratching right into your bones. It was such a common, simple word, and yet you were reeling from it. It took everything in you to not ask him more questions, to dig into how he was feeling, how he felt about what happened between the two of you in the forest. So, instead you tried to go back to work. 

It was hard though, because you could hear the scrape of Levi’s thumb against the old paper whenever he turned a page, or the quiet shift of his boots against the floorboards. You could hear the occasional low exhale through his nose when he realized how worn the words were on the page of whatever he was reading. You wondered if other people noticed these things about him too, or if they were too busy being afraid of him to even think about it. 

“I’m sorry,” you stated before you could stop yourself. Your eyes drifted back to him, watching him roll up one of his grey sleeves. “For what happened in the forest.”

His finger stilled against the page. 

You continued. “During the crash you got hurt because I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Levi stared at you, silence stretching thin. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut so you could get out of here and stop thinking so much about him. He was your Captain, it was so inappropriate to even think about thinking these incessant thoughts about him. 

“You really need to stop thinking so much,” he said. An observation. If this had been a month ago when you were just getting to know your Captain, you would have probably taken it as almost an insult the way that he said it. Knowing Levi now, you knew it was just his nature. Levi stood up and put the book he had been reading away on one of the middle shelves, leaning against the wood afterwards to look at you fully. 

Your fingers twitched. “And what?” you asked. “You don’t think about mistakes after they happen?” 

“I don’t make mistakes.” 

You stared at him flatly for a moment, then a laugh escaped your throat before you could stop it. It wasn’t loud, just tiny enough that it slipped without any instinct. Levi’s eyes squinted, as if to ask why you were laughing when he was serious. He walked closer to you, footsteps echoing within the wooden walls of the library. It was here that you could see his face completely, every single painfully handsome detail. His jawline was sharp, so sharp that you wondered if it would soften with a kiss against it, or how it would look with a mouth shaped mark just along the junction between his jaw and his neck. 

His eyes stayed glued to yours, dark grey circles that looked right into yours, searching for something. You weren’t sure what. 

Maybe he didn’t know either. 

Your pulse beat so hard beneath your skin that you wondered if he could see it in the vein in your throat. He was so close now, close enough that if you leaned forward even slightly, your knee would brush against his leg. You could feel his breathing again, the same way that you had felt when you had landed on top of him in the clearing. Calm and concise, like he wasn’t affected by being so close to you. 

A hand came up, pausing for a moment while he looked into your eyes, and then landed on your cheek, tracing the faint line that still was present from the accident. Your breath caught in your throat. Levi’s hand was rougher than you expected it to be. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone had touched the healing wound. Eren was obsessed with making sure it was healing properly. But Levi’s hands felt different than Eren’s, his touch felt different than Eren’s. His fingers curled against your jaw, steady and warm, thumb tracing carefully along the fading cut. 

It was impossibly gentle for a man who was capable of tearing Titans apart with ease. 

You kept your eyes fixed on his face while he examined the scar, gray eyes lowered beneath his dark lashes. You could see every tiny detail that you had spent the last two weeks trying desperately not to notice, like how the faint scar near his lip was pale with age, or how his expression softened just slightly when he stopped thinking so hard about maintaining his sharp persona that everyone expected from him. 

“You’ll scar,” your Captain murmured, thumb brushing once more against your cheekbone. 

You swallowed. Hard. “That bothers you?” 

His eyes shifted from the pale line slowly back toward your own. 

“No.” 

You remembered then the way he had said ‘no’ that night outside. The same certainty, a quiet finality beneath the word. 

Then you must have gotten what you wanted, right, Captain? 

No.

It hit you over and over again, just like it had that night beneath the moonlight, the coldness settling in your bones. Something about the way Levi said things made them feel immovable and absolute. He had already carved the thought into stone before speaking it out loud. He looked at your scar like it didn’t lessen you in any way, thumb lingering against your cheekbone before his hand moved, signalling he was going to move away. 

Your instincts took over, right hand shooting up and curling around the pale expanse of his wrist, holding his hand there against your face. The entire room seemed to stop breathing while Levi stilled beneath your touch. Your pulse was slamming violently against your ribs the second you realized what you had done, eyes blown wide as you failed to reach eye contact with him. 

This was your Captain. The same Captain who would kill a Titan without blinking. The same Captain who people stepped aside for in hallways like he had silently commanded it. Your Captain whose hand was still cupping your face while your fingers curled around the bones of his wrist like you couldn’t bear the idea of him pulling away. 

Instead of letting go, your grip tightened only slightly, prompting Levi’s eyes to drop towards your hand. His gaze then lifted towards your face again and you could’ve sworn that something dark flickered behind his gaze. It wasn’t exactly anger. Something worse than that. 

Your breathing was shallow, every inhale catching in your throat while his skin burned warm beneath your fingers. The tendons shifted subtly underneath your grip, his hand flexing as if to test the sturdiness of your hand. Neither of you had moved still, while the library became deathly quiet around you. You couldn’t hear the muffling of footsteps in the hallway anymore, nor the flickering of the lantern on the table. 

“Careful.” 

The word, that singular word, scraped against your spine. 

Still, you didn’t let go. 

Levi inhaled sharply. A tiny sound, barely there. And the noise nearly destroyed you. His eyes narrowed, though it didn’t look like irritation in his gaze. More like restraint, like he was forcing himself not to react to you the way that his body wanted him to. His thumb brushed slowly along your cheek, eyes still focused as if trying to memorize the exact details of your face. 

“If you keep looking at me like that,” he murmured. “Eventually you’re going to get yourself into trouble.” 

“How am I looking at you?” You muttered back, mouth going slightly dry. The question held there between your body, like a pulled blade, inches from being stabbed directly into his heart before having him bleed out on the library floor. His demeanor changed then, the same hand on your face tracing a slow path down your cheek to your jaw, finding purchase there before continuing its descent down, down, down and landing on the junction between your head and your neck. You gulped, which he could feel beneath his fingers. He didn’t squeeze, just held you there through his hand and his gaze. 

He stepped forward then, pinning you in between him and the table. “You know exactly how,” he said quietly. His eyes traveled downward to your mouth. “Do you want me to do something about it?” 

Yes. Your body screamed. Yes you wanted him to do something about it. He had been driving you crazy for the past two weeks, invading your thoughts and infecting your mind with only him. He made you stay close to him under the guise that he was watching your recovery. You hated him because he didn’t let you go back to training. And you hated him for making you seem like a maid to order around on your every whim. And you hated him now, for looking at you like you were the one who was coaxing him into something that he didn’t want. You knew he wanted something, it was evident. But something told you that he would never admit it. 

You wanted him to kiss you so bad that it physically hurt, an aching thing that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried. In fact, you weren’t even sure that if he kissed you it would go away. It would be easier that way, if he kissed you and things would go back to normal. But the way that he was looking at you now wasn’t helping your rationale. He wanted this, you knew that he did. You could feel it in the way that his hand absentmindedly flexed against your throat as your breathing sped up and then slowed back down. 

And still, he was making you say it. 

“You’re cruel,” you whispered to him, inspiring a look of amusement from Levi. He hummed, the sound brushing against your lips from how close he was standing. 

You hated him for that too. For being so composed while your thoughts were spiraling into something embarrassing, something desperate beneath his gaze. You could barely even remember why you had been in the library in the first place. The reports, which were strewn lazily along the desk you were practically sitting on, felt absurdly unimportant to the both of you. 

“You keep asking questions you already know the answer to,” you stated. 

Levi’s other hand came to brush his fingers against your jaw, thumb coming up way too close to your bottom lip. 

“Do I?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then answer it.” 

A command, one that you were expected to answer. Under normal circumstances, you would have answered right away. Yes, Captain. But the words caught in your throat. It felt wrong to call him Captain at a time like this, when he was this close to you that you could smell the fresh linen scent emanating from his clothing and something like black tea on his breath. 

Swallowing your pride, you spoke low, “I know you want to kiss me.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” he said, a fact. But his voice was devoid of any type of uncertainty. It sounded wrecked. 

“Why?” You whispered. 

Because I won’t stop. 

Every inch of your body leaned unconsciously toward him, waiting for the kiss that felt inevitable now. His forehead pressed against yours and your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your mouth. 

And then? 

Nothing happened. 

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you opened your eyes. Levi was still looking at you, watching you unravel in front of him, as your stomach twisted and your heart beat right into your ears. What the hell was he waiting for? You had laid out what you felt and what you knew that he felt and . . . he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to be doing!

“Captain,” you whispered, the title slipping free through your mouth, sounding all the more desperate than respectful. 

Levi stepped back, your pulse thrumming hard while his hands slipped away from you. His fingertips ghosted along your skin before they disappeared. The sudden loss of warmth hit you immediately and your body almost followed him on instinct. Which Levi seemed to notice, a faint exhale from him. It sounded almost like satisfaction. Like he had wrestled himself back under control and knew exactly what denying was doing to you. His breathing had calmed down, rolled sleeves exposed forearms with the same veins that you had been eying earlier. 

As if it was the most normal thing in the world, he reached down toward the table. 

“Organize the rest of these papers, then you can leave,” he said evenly. 

“You cannot be serious.” 

“I’m very serious.” 

“You were just —”

“Just what?” Mocking. 

You gave him a look, one that was half pleading and half accusatory.