#1k.event

“I had a good day,” he replies bluntly. “So if some pathetic back pain isn’t manageable, something else would’ve killed me already. Move.”

That stings. No. You refuse to be pushed away when something’s clearly wrong.

You plant both your hands down on the doorway to block his path. “I don't think you’d be trying to joke about death if you had a good day.”

He shrugs his jacket higher over his arm, glares harder. As if he could move you aside with his eyes.

“Levi,” you sigh, more gentle. “I’m not moving unless you make me move.”

And you both know how easy that would be for him to do.

“…Good things happened,” he acquiesces after a short sigh. Then, for the first time, he actually looks at you, eyes dull and tired, and you figure out the problem. When the cause of a shitty day is unexplainable—when, by all accounts, things went well—shitty days with a reason seem better in comparison.

“But, you feel like the opposite,” you guess.

He rubs the bridge of his nose once more, jaw tightening with irritation. “Should’ve expected this.”

“I want to help you.”

“How do you solve a problem when there’s no fucking cause for it?” he snaps.

He sees the flash of surprise on your face after that sudden explosion, and stammers. His leathers swish as he protectively pins his arm across his middle.

“Look, this is pointless. So I’m leaving.”

“Levi, please.”

“Move.”

You stay right where you are, nor does Levi make any movement to push past you. A stalemate.

“You’re right,” you compromise. “It’s kind of impossible to solve a problem that doesn’t have a cause, so forget about that.”

You take a step or two until you’re standing directly underneath the doorway, and touch his shoulders.

“What do you mean?”

“Wow,” you murmur. “You’re really tense.”

With nimble fingertips, you begin to rub into the hard muscles, just a little, and he hisses through his teeth. His shoulders drop.

“Don’t worry about solutions. Just tell me what you think will make you feel better.”

A heavy swallow. Even in his face you see his resolve wavering. By the way his eyes flutter closed and his utter failure to push you away, you know it’s been bad.

“Levi, baby…”

It’s ridiculously easy to get him to submit.

“I...” A blush rises to his cheeks. “What, you want something specific?”

“Not really.”

Just briefly, you stop massaging to take his uniform jacket over your own arm before they land on his shoulderblades. He shudders.

Gazing into his eyes, you see that he’s still lost. “Give me one thing, and I’ll take care of the rest. It’s not your job to worry about me making you feel better.”

His adam’s apple visibly bobs when he swallows. Whatever he was going to say is interrupted by a soft grunt as you work your massage higher up his lean shoulders.

“What do you want, honey?”

His lips move soundlessly before his hands come up for support from your waist. “…Y-You.”

You nibble on the inside of your cheek. When you press your foreheads together, his eyes flutter shut.

“Me?”

“Is that specific enough?”

You kiss his lips, humming faintly. They’re a little dry, which you remedy with a slow swipe of your tongue.

The slow sigh that results shakes, so you tilt your head and lay your hand on his jaw, guiding him. Just like that, he’s putty in your hands.

You pull away first, something stirring in you by the way he licks his lips. That blush is deeper now.

“Do you have anything more specific in mind?” you ask.

He blinks slowly, something he tends to do when he needs to think (given he has the privilage of time to do so).

“Take your time.” You kiss below his jaw.

His chest rises. “I want to taste you,” he whispers into your hairline. “I want...”

A distraction, and a damn good one; to make you feel good in order to not feel the guilt of taking your attention.

He can’t bring himself to say anything to that effect out loud, but you seem to understand.

Heat stirs below your waist. “I’d love that,” you breathe, and as you speak, you slide his hands up underneath your top, caressing warm skin.

He follows your lead, sighs around the warm squeeze of your soft tits. A firm flick has you humming shakily.

Again, your lips glide softly together. He wants it slow.

His warm lips follow up your jaw until his breath tickles the shell of your ear. “Take this off.”

Shivers take you over as your hands fall around your waist. He pulls you on unsteady legs to the bed, the mattress springs whining as you drop onto your back.

Levi follows right after you to peel your pants away. He has the patience to toss them aside in something resembling neatness, but not to move right onto the delicate hems of your panties.

“Panties, too,” he grunts. “You’ll get them dirty, if they haven’t already.”

With a good-natured huff you roll your eyes—to play off the fact that he’s right, your panties are a little dark between your thighs, wet.

“Knew it.” The tiniest quirk has his lips as he yanks those right off too.

Your legs reflectively shut as your cunt is exposed to the balmy air, only for him to spread them apart and shuffle until the bottoms of your thighs touch the tops of his.

Your eyes pop wide in surprise as he sighs softly between kisses that trail down from the between your breasts. His touch is firm, but fleeting.

You ruffle his hair. “Not even gonna tease me?”

He doesn’t have the patience to say anything. You’re shot nothing but an annoyed glance before your thighs are abruptly spread wide and flat. He gets comfortable on his belly and ducks down to coat the long line between your thigh and pelvis with his tongue.

“Levi,” you whisper. “Please.”

“No matter what I do, you’re gonna get wet. And I don’t feel like working for it.”

“But... How can I make it better for you?”

Levi gets off on teasing you, that’s no secret.

“You keep your legs open, and come on my tongue,” he speaks into the fat of your thigh, smearing open-mouthed kisses further and further up. “You can never be patient, huh?”

Your thighs twitch involuntarily as he sinks his teeth in, then jerk. Practiced fingertips swim through your slit, then smear your sticky cum all over your clit.

You gasp, fucking up towards his face. Fuck, it’s been a while.

He was right: No matter what he does. “‘kay, fuck, anything you want.”

Soft blue-greys, more silvery by the light of a lone lantern, flicker up towards you. “Is that not what you had in mind?”

You underestimated how shitty he has been feeling. If Levi doesn’t want to tease, if he can still be doubting himself while you’re squirming above him, he must be feeling bad—much more than he let on.

“Please,” you reassure. “You’re perfect.”

A heavy sigh, more like a groan, vibrates your lip, where his tongue follows up and up.

Little gasps hitch up in your throat. Your hips twitch in the direction of his mouth, begging wordlessly.

Clearly he meant what he said, proven when his heavy tongue drags through your slit. He moans.

“Oh, fuck!” you whine, thighs jerking shut—or trying. You didn’t expect that.

A breathy sigh sinks into a low groan. You forget, you’ve both been so busy that it’s been too long for him, too.

Levi, somehow, always finds the patience to take his sweet time. The muscles of his forearm draw taut over your thigh, the other spreading your cunt wide open leaves your hole quivering around air.

With each eager push of his tongue through your pussy, narrowly avoiding your swollen clit, your hole drools more and more for him.

More.

You lie gaping up at the ceiling, overtaken by shivers, by his hot, seeking tongue—“Lev’, more!”

Your hips roll with his tongue that briskly sweeps up and down until your heavy breaths grow into panting. “L-Lick my clit, fucking, please.”

His swift licking doesn’t acquiesce. Before you can help it, your thighs are working to squeeze his head, pinning his ears, and he actually whines. Strained, wanting.

“Ah. Really want me to suffocate you?”

His nose glistens as he looks up and asks back, “Really wanna keep asking me stupid fucking questions?”

That tone, he uses to order his men around—it makes you want to fall down to your knees. You’d do anything to hear him whine like that again. Your clit throbs.

You don’t answer fast enough, and Levi doesn’t wait to squirm backwards, pop open his collar, and lay your thigh flat.

He pins it down using his elbow, and with two thumbs, he spreads your pussy open again. His flat tongue licks a long, wide stripe from your twitching hole to your clit.

Your cry breaks the air. “Right there!”

You don’t see him squirming, you only feel three fingers rapidly tugging down on your clit so you cry out for him again.

Then, fucking finally, his searing mouth falls down around the source of your ache and begins to suckle. A moan is forced from you.

Your thighs all but close around his head. If he wants you to suffocate him, you will, and if he wants your cum on his tongue, your hand will fly down to his hair to encourage him to take it.

The instant you take a fistful and tug, a louder moan vibrates your twitching clit.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Don’t fucking stop, baby.”

With the flat of his tongue, he rubs slow and purposeful, massaging.

“F-Faster.”

On cue, his tongue swirls around and around, becoming more frantic. It’s like all he wants to do is make you feel good, nothing else.

“That’s a good boy,” you say shakily, only for your voice to crack at the urgency he then pushes between your legs, shoving your head further up on the pillows.

Your climax rises in you, but your panting isn’t as loud as the squelching noises as he devours your cunt.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into your swollen clit. His tongue flits down and circles your rim, eyes tightly shut as you force his head down. “Th-Think I’m…”

You don’t hear him. “Getting close,” you warn, surprise lacing your tone. “Holy shit, p-perfect fucking mouth Levi, fuck.”

Your hips practically use his mouth for a fucktoy, but he gives you more, licking turning frantic. Your back begins to lift, and his fingers haven’t even dipped into your pussy yet.

You moan, "Gods, don't stop, d-don't—" you toss your head back, “fucking good boy, fuck!”

Your loud moan hits the air on as you fly over a high edge. A loud slurping sound can be heard before his raspy groan vibrates your clit, making you come so much harder, making you see stars.

You ride out the waves on his tongue. If your head wasn’t thrown back, blindly fucking up into his perfect mouth, you’s see his hips rolling into the mattress in the exact same way.

The sparks ebb away slowly, not that Levi is stopping. He’a barely slowing.

You twitch, which dissolves into full squirming. You’re only forced to peal open your eyes when two fingers easily bury into your spasming hole. They slide against your walls, over that spot, in quick thrusts, just when you thought you were calming down.

“Fuck!” you squeak, softly thrashing. The second one is always more intense that that first, and it’s washing over you strong.

“Gonna come again,” you whimper. “Gonna, gonna—”

You cum again, much harder than the first time. He has to pry your stubborn thigh back so you can enjoy it.

Now, your cunt meekly throbs. Levi’s tongue is fucking searing.

“Please!” Your chest wracks with a dry sob. Hell if you know what you’re even begging for. “L-Levi.”

The deep red blush all over his face seems almost shiny thanks to your cum. His eyes are half-lidded—are they even open?—once he finally pulls away from your used pussy. Again his hips shift, pressed to mattress, and his eyes flutter. He’s getting off on this.

You don’t have the mind right now to process that Levi came from eating your pussy alone. Instead your head falls back, whimpering from the heavy twitching, oversensitive.

Light panting puffs your slick inner thigh—his stamina is never not insane to you—before his tongue darts out and laps it up.

“Ngh.” Levi grunts from your sudden pull on his hair. Just like that, three fingers slide into your cunt with less than no resistance. You suck them in eagerly despite trying to shy away.

His fingers struggle to curl. “Greedy. Just anything gets you off, huh. What a good whore.”

His point his proven when your whine rises into a wail as he struggles to bully in a fourth finger into your rapidly fluttering cunt.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Y-Ye—Ah, uh-huh.”

“Hah.”

A special desperation laces the whining noise high in his throat. He gives up on fitting in a fourth so his tongue can slit in beside the others instead.

“Lev’!” you shriek. “Fuck, I saw you, did you c-come like this?”

He grunts non-commitally, tongue probing deeper. Heavy heat licks pelts your walls.

Tears bleed onto your lashes. Your eyes shut, and they pour over. “‘m not a whore, you are.”

A visible shiver wracks his body.

Arousal turns over your belly. It’ll be a while before you can come again, so you should indulge him (as much as you can think to, at least).

“Being such a good boy, makin’ me feel so good. My good boy.”

He moans loudly, eyes squeezed shut. His arm is practically clinging to your shaking thigh.

“Am I making you feel better?”

His glazed eyes flutter before his mouth pulls off. Your hand, previously, clenched in the sheets, is dragged to your clit. He give it a tap, and your hips jump.

“Is it too much, sweetheart?” he coos softly, guiding your palm up and down.

Your head flails over the pillows as searing pleasure wracks you. “Yes.”

But you let him use you.

“Too bad,” he grunts. “Keep touching yourself.”

Whimpering, you bend to his will. Far away, you feel the mattress dip beside your head; you think he grabs a pillow.

“Keep going, sweetness,” he says, too softly to make it an order. “You’re gonna gush for me.”

He leaves no room for debate.

You weep up at the ceiling, barely hearing. A hand smears tears off your cheek, beckoning your attention towards him. Your cum glistens his nose, his shiny lips, his chin.

“Remember to use your colors.”

You don’t hear his words, just his rough rasp in that same ordering tone.

He gives your cheek a light slap, then your tit. “You better be fucking listening.”

Your hips jump up. “Uh-huh! I am I am.”

“What a good girl.” Levi leans back and shoves his trousers down to his knees. When those are done away with, sticky white cum cakes his thighs in places. His wet cock is still half-hard.

You start craving your fingers.

“Honey,” you cry softly. “‘m I making you feel better?”

That same pillow is laid long-ways between his round thighs. His hand runs down yours, once again guiding your slippery palm. “Yeah. ‘Course you are.”

He shuffles back down again and presses a trail of quick, sticky kisses until his tongue lathering your slit, licking around your fingers.

“Oh my god, fuck!”

Levi grunts. His head lifts, and he spits on your pussy. Three fingers bury inside.

“Relax.” He takes your hand and gives your knuckles a kiss before planting your hand back in his hair. “Just keep coming for me.”

In a sudden shift, his head bows and licks into your hole, joining his fingers again. His palms keep your thighs where he wants them.

You fucking plan to.

Enter the event here!

⤏ the greek gods are alive and well, thriving even. with daily offerings from millions around the world, their powers surpass limits well beyond human perception.

⤏ of course, humanity either prospers or perishes at the fall of a pin; the pettiest grievance can mean life or death for a mortal being, and so, humanity does all it can to keep them pleased

⤏ with this surge of followers, comes evolution. specifically, of the minor monsters and mythological creatures. beasts gain the ability to shift between forms, using molds of mortals to lure them to their deaths

⤏ enter: katsuki bakugou, the hell hound

⤏ cerberus is no longer simply a four-legged beast. he walks the mortal realm like any other, a— quite hotheaded— aide to hades. a corruptor of souls, if you will

⤏ but mostly, hades just uses him to get under zeus’ skin.

⤏ if there’s anything zeus absolutely loves, it’s beautiful women. maidens— skin smooth as whipped butter, voices sweet as pure honey— tempting him to dip a finger, or rather an entire limb, into the world of adultery

⤏ and so, the hell hound, when not dutifully guarding the gates of the underworld, prowls for these women. devoted worshippers, who fall to their knees to please the insatiable god, suddenly find themselves enticed by the massive riches bakugou promises them under the patron of hades (among other massive things)

“The mortal realm has nothing for me,” Katsuki pounds a fist against the flat ground, howling. No response from his heinous master. “Bastard!” 

At that, the earth trembles and shakes, seething from deep within. It seems Lord Hades does not take kindly to insults; however, he is too riled up to heed the warning. The son of a bitch can burn this vile domain to the ground, for all he cares. 

As a force that only bows to those whose veins surge with the blessing of the gods, one would think Cerberus has better things to do than be stuck in the world of puny humans. He’s a guardian of the gates of hell, a fierce soldier whose talents lie in the bloody ravaging of intruders. Preying on wide-eyed, imbecilic matrons— sorry women who believe that philanderer of a god Zeus is going to save them— is the last thing he should be doing.

And yet, it is exactly what his Lord has commanded of him. ‘You will enjoy your time with the mortals,’ the cretin had simply chuckled at Katsuki’s disputes on the matter. He pounds another fist against the grass, though this time, with less gall.  

“Father Zeus, holder of lightning,” he hears the soft chime of his victim’s voice before he sees you. Making his way through thick underbrush, he follows the sound until he sees you. 

And there you perch, kneeling at the modest altar in devout worship. Though your knees must ache, separated from the hard floor by only a simple robe, you chant the words perfectly; it seems you take special care not to falter in prayer. “I implore you, guide me to be just.” 

Katsuki simply observes, keeping his distance so as to not interrupt you. It is not as though you are the first human woman to cross his path; he has pillaged one too many poor souls who have stumbled into the Underworld, though you are certainly the most enchanting. 

It isn’t your looks that have him mesmerized, not at all. While your beauty— the curve of your supple lips, your plentiful bosom, the slight dip of your lower back— certainly aids the situation, it’s your demeanor that keeps him rooted sturdily in place. Not once does your voice waver, nor do your limbs quake. You keep steadfast in your goal of bestowing proper homage upon your cruel, cruel god. 

How dare the bastard neglect such a worthy offering? How can he stand to keep someone of such stature, tiny yet flooding with vigor, on your knees when you so clearly cherish him with your entire being? 

By the time your prayer is over, dusk has long since come and gone; your fire is now reduced to mere ashes, and Katsuki’s sharp eyes don’t overlook the chills that appear on your exposed skin. 

Even so, the altar is bathed in an ethereal glow, your basket of oblations untouched. As they will remain, until some insufferable thief comes along and snatches them away. For a reason unbeknownst to him, the thought of this occurrence sends electricity down his spine, harsh red clouding his sight, his nails itching to shift into claws. 

“Why do you bow to a god,” his gruff lilt resonates across the field, startling you, “who is too preoccupied committing adultery to accept your bounty?” His aim is not to lull you into a false sense of compliance, as Hades wishes, but to talk some logic into an ignorant sheep. 

Within seconds, he crosses the field until he finds himself only inches away from you. Though he had noticed a syrupy scent from afar, it’s nothing compared to now: ambrosia, nectar of the gods. The smell is practically intoxicating— it must be the offerings. 

“Oh dear Zeus, he knows not what he says,” you ignore his question, choosing instead to beseech your lord for forgiveness. It’s odd, and a bit insulting, that you don’t cower in the presence of Cerberus, his looming form typically sending travelers into shock. Even as he inches closer, you make no move to run or hide. 

“How many times must I tell you he’s not listening,” the deep growl that escapes his throat borders on ravenous. He has to give it to his master, “At least Hades answers.” 

At the mention of Zeus’s brother, you finally turn to face Katsuki, eyes narrowing at the irritable man. He’s chosen well to hide his true form, but his eyes— piercing, blood red— must still seem every bit akin to a beast. 

“Zeus has blessed my family for generations past and will do so for generations to come,” you offer meekly. What happened to the steadfast woman he saw only minutes ago? 

“Of course,” he smirks, baring sharp canines, “and I’m sure that is why you don the robes of a humble servant.” When he spots your lips turning downwards, just for a single second, Katsuki knows he’s won. 

But as intimidating as he attempts to be, the sweet scents of honey and nectar threaten to reveal his wanton need. With every step forward, he feels the aura envelop him, attack every one of his senses and send his head spinning. “I could show you,” he’s unable to stop the words from exiting, “you could have all you desire under Hades.” 

“And what do you know of my desires?” Your poise is back tenfold, paired with a quirk of your brow and what he thinks is a dangerous gleam in your eyes. He never thought he’d use that word to describe a mortal woman, of all beings, but here he is. 

“My knowledge surpasses yours,” he brings a pointed nail, a claw, to rest under your chin, tilting your head up so that you may see him in all his glory. 

His finger grazes your bottom lip, and he snickers when you part it to allow him greater access. “Wealth beyond your wildest dreams,” the digit dips into your mouth, presses against your tongue. “Good health,” he brings his other hand to cradle your jaw, bending so that his face meets yours. Inhaling deeply, he now realizes that the pleasant odor was not the offering, but you. 

“Is that all?” you mumble, words muffled. His entire body shudders at the lapping of your wet muscle around his finger, all blood rushing to his nether regions. 

“No.”  The slender digits cupping your face scratch softly against your cheekbone. Beautiful. “Best of all, Hades will offer you— I will give you,” he’s crouching now, pulling his finger from between your lips to give his mouth access, “pleasure.”

It was your idea, borne from your anxiety, naturally. You love Levi, not despite, but especially because of the way he is, but you have never taken a knot before. Him fucking you has been a nervous fantasy until today, or at least halfway, because you’re going to be working up to it.

Between his legs, Levi must be throbbing, he’s so hard through his thin briefs. You know the toy will be nothing like him, nothing as big or as intense, but you’re wary enough about the knot to keep going... especially when he’s here to guide you.

You pull away holding his hand, which he sets on your hip, over the bone. Then he nestles between your legs, flat on his belly.

“Relax,” he reminds you under his breath. Wet kisses are speckled down your navel, and then the cock is gliding through your folds, warm and thick.

You hum high in your throat, your cunt quivering around nothing. When you begin to squirm, the tip is worked in easily, and pushed, pulled.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp. “That’s good.”

You both knew it would be.

Levi watches your face through his lashes, ears peaking with interest. “Good. Good girl. It’ll be small at first.”

You hiss with the first sting of the knot, threatening to push inside. "Levi, is that it?"

A soft kiss is pressed to your clit. He licks, moans just softly. "Mm. Mhm.”

The cock stills, and pulls an inch or two, then buries back in. Your pussy eager accepts it while you moan in bliss.

Levi pushes his arm under the bend of your knee for the bottle of lube. The syrupy liquid drips onto your clit, and oozes down.

You jerk. "Fuck."

"So sensitive."

You feel the flick of his ear against your thigh as he pushes his cheek into it. A rough fingertip parts your cunt so the warming lube dribbles down where the working knot is pressed snug to your hole, threatening to grow with the slide of a switch.

The lube's effects heat your clit, icy but deliciously warm, making your toes curl, and Levi's easy thrusts jam for a moment. You pant, "Kitty."

He starts to purr, which vibrates your upper thigh. Imagining his mouth, suctioning your clit with those vibrations, it makes you shiver.

"I'm gonna try it," he says softly, breaking the purr like cutting radio static. "Relax. It won't be as firm as this."

"Y-You, you mean?" you ask, and fail to register whatever he says next as the knot catches on your rim, and slides inside. A firm squeeze of his hand reminds you to relax.

"Fuck, it's big," you whimper. "Oh my god, ah."

"I'm letting it grow." Levi's voice sounds rougher than before. "Looks so tight... I wonder how much you could make me cum when I fuck you."

"M-Mm..."

“Tell me how you like it.”

You feel yourself heat all over at the request, but you can’t—you can’t even speak as the knot grows between Levi’s simple rocking motions.

He licks your clit. “It’s getting bigger. Tell me.”

“It—” You gape at the dull pleasure pounding below your clit. “It stings, but I need it so fucking bad, god.”

Your head falls back. “You could breed me with it?—As deep as you can go?”

Levi borderline growls, vibrating your inner thigh as he sinks his teeth in. A fluffy tail whips your knee, then wraps around it.

“Yeah,” he replies, barely restrained. Your tight cunt is swallowing the knot before his eyes, and working it out a little, it’s glistening and slathered in creamy cum. “Yeah, I could. If you want it.”

“Tell me when you want it so bad.”

It’s like you're being split in half. Levi senses the grimace forming on your face, and angles it slightly. A searing tongue sweeps flat over your clit, and rubs, back and forth and back—a massage.

“Want it when I’m in heat,” he manages over your loud panting. His hot breath puffs against your clit. He speaks in a slew, "Wanna breed you f-…full of my cum. Wanna make you fucking beg to be mine.”

Your hips jerk as he hits that spot. “Please.”

The knot is as fat as Levi can make it, and fuck—your hole is all but wobbling around the half of it you're taking. He spots it through his lashes, his tongue on your clit.

“Levi... so fucking full.”

“You can take it,” he encourages, and pushes. “Be good.”

The thick pop as the knot’s girth slips past your rim goes straight to his cock, pinned to the bed.

“I’m gonna come,” you groan, quivering. A hand dives into his hair, and pulls.

Levi’s eyes flutter with a full moan. This time, his purring pushes through his throat without command.

Bittersweet tang permeates his tongue. He laps for it.

For the first time, his measured thrusts pick up, along with your gasps.

He wants to feel it. Feel your cunt barely working his round knot it’s so big, and if he were in heat, he’d plug your pussy full before it's small enough to slip out.

“Breed you all night,” he’s rambling, suckles on your twitching clit. “Put you on your back so you’re bred full. Take a pretty picture of you begging for cock.”

Your back jumps off the bed with a gasp. He feels your thigh against his cheek harden and shake, and with a cry, you're coming.

His vibrating tongue vigorously swipes your clit all the way through it, prolonging it. Your moans, most his name, hit the air to the wet squelching for every snug inward thrust.

As your sweet noises dissolve into whimpering and your thighs try to jerk shut around his head, Levi slows, licking his lips, ears and tail both perked up high.

Gradually, he slackens the size of the knot as well. He’s pleased to see your creamy white gush spill out when it’s shrunken to its smallest size.

One arm is strewn over your face, breaths gaping. Seems you’re still recovering.

“See, was that so bad?” he drawls, sitting up. “Was it okay?”

“Wait.” Your hand falls on his, pausing him from working the cock out of you. Your hazy eyes implore him. “More, please. I want more.”

Levi’s teeth sinks into his bottom lip. “More?—You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Knot me.”

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Or the choices he has to make. The ones where, no matter the outcome, he feels the same sins crawling on his back.

The storage cellar is nothing but inky blackness, so much so that Levi closes his eyes and the view is still lighter in comparison. It’s mercifully silent, piercing even, but the stone floor under his backside mercilessly hard.

The sights he has seen and couldn’t look away from, the wet metal, shit, and gore that has stuck to his nose, the acts he has committed with his two hands—

Well, by now he should have a guaranteed method of getting over this black stone sitting in his chest, spreading all throughout his veins, clenching his heart. You would think that after some point it gets easier.

It doesn’t. The feelings stay the same after they’re lured back from the shadows, where they were once at bay. At full force, they sink their claws in.

He is knocked to the ground again and again, as long as he has lived.

Today, at least it makes sense: his trigger fingers ache dully. On other days, the black feelings leer over him like looking down the barrel of a gun for seemingly no reason at all.

He will get over this, though. A thousand enemies haven’t killed him, so this feeling won’t, either. It takes time, and some forgetting, and some running away. Is all.

What is his strength for when his worst enemy is himself? he has to wonder.

And why does the idea of so much as moving from his space on the floor, tucked into himself small, feel the same as tearing down the sky? He can't bring himself to do anything.

How pathetic of him.

His stomach jumps to his chest as his tiny world of darkness is shattered by a light knock on the door.

“Levi?” your light voice beckons. “Are you in here?”

He holds his breath, and when he can hold it no longer, he exhales silently.

This dynamic, what you share, is new to him. He trusts you in a fight out there—he would not bear letting his feelings run free if he didn't—but to see him at his weakest? That fear is paralyzing.

“Levi?”

...But.

But he can’t waste away in this room. He wants your gentle tones, reminders that he is safe even though battered and bruised, and, and to be comforted.

It’s pulling teeth just to admit that to himself.

So, he rises to his feet, unsteady, and navigates around the crates through darkness.

He mentally prepares himself for you to have disappeared. It took him many moments to rise to his feet, let alone come to a decision.

The lock clicks when he turns it, letting in an onslaught of light that turns your visage strained and blurry until he adjusts.

Your brow knits. “Hi.”

He can’t. He can't trust himself to even speak, so he retreats back to his place near the corner, leaving the entrance open for you. If you want to come in, you can.

Just as he slides down to a sit, the room is shrouded in darkness once again. His eyes shut, soothed by it, but a spiky sort of comfort sinks in as your steps approach, navigating the night.

“Where are you?”

“Over here,” he grunts, voice a rasp. He swallows, but it doesn't help.

You slump down right beside him, causing him to go rigid. There is nothing he wants more than to reach out, but he finds himself frozen. He’s never asked for such things, because they will leave him. He’s hard-pressed to think he even needs it.

“How long have you been sitting here? I’ve been... kinda looking for you.” Your voice shrinks. “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” he says, then stammers. “Sometimes, I just... do this. It's fine.”

That dark feeling presses down heavier in his chest, the one he knows too well. That he failed. He is failing.

You reach and touch his arm, causing him to suck in a swift breath.

“I can go?” you offer.

Levi blinks. Before he knows it he’s snatching your hand, and simply pulling it close. He doesn’t entirely know what to say, let alone do, or think.

“Don’t,” he tries.

You shuffle closer until your sides completely touch, and then switch hands so one arm can awkwardly wrap around his middle.

It would be so easy to shuffle around and let himself be held by you. His breath shakes.

Your voice is by his hairline. “It’s alright, it’s okay now. I’m right here, okay?”

He closes his eyes, and lets his head drift down to your shoulder. It’d be even easier to doze off like this, given how much less he sleeps than he normally does when outside the Walls. If he can’t let his guard down at any other time, it towers out there.

“I’m not leaving you... Listen to me. It’s okay to lean on me, when you need it,” you speak into his dirty hair. “We can’t be strong all the time.”

The first silent sob gently wracks his chest. Ashamed, he shifts around and, in stark contrast to his frozen demeanor before, clambers into your arms. His feet land on the floor on your other side, knees bent and his arms tucked to his chest for yours to wrap around him. His face all but buries in your neck.

Unsurprisingly, maybe, you don’t act like he’s as pathetic as he feels. With a weary sigh, you cradle him close to you chest and rub his back in slow, soothing motions.

“It’s okay,” you continue to reassure. “You did your best, and that’s all that can ever be asked of you.”

“It will always get easier. It may not seem like it right now, it might feel like the end, but I promise it’s not.”

“You can always lean on me when it's hard. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

He finds that his cheeks are sticky with tears, and what he wants, desperately, is to forget, and fall asleep with you.

“Stay with me,” he whispers through the quiet, and automatically curses himself for asking. “W-Will you stay?”

You kiss his hair. “Yes. Always.”

Enter the event here!

You send him a little sidelong look from your small table, and at his long desk, shaped like a half-circle, he immediately notices. The mahogany that it's made of isn't even visible under a mess of papers, folders, and his computer.

Levi, in a mess.

"What is it?" he snips. "I'm in the middle of this."

You toil with the hems of your skirt. At least you got his attention.

Without a reply, you swivel towards him, no longer squeezing your thighs together discreetly like you had through these last two periods, but parting them.

You sigh to catch his attention again, aching.

His eyes widen. "What're you doing."

While his voice his flat, he manages to sound absolutely scandalized. Only on rare occasions have you ever fucked in his own classroom; if he was caught, the consequences are obvious.

A thrill shoots through your belly.

"Encouraging you."

"Encouraging me?"

You deadpan, and spread your legs so your pleated skirt bunches up at your upper thighs.

His chest rises, because you might not be wearing any panties.

"You're stressed—and you can't deny it when Dr. Zoe flinched when they asked if you wanted some coffee this morning. Remember that?"

He is motionless, but there is a certain tell in his eyes. He's holding back.

"Coffee is disgusting," he argues weakly.

"Maybe you need a good fuck to take your mind off it."

As your palm rides up your thigh, sliding your skirt, Levi rubs a hand down his face and pointedly looks down at his desk. Those damned papers.

"I don't have time for this."

You pin your tongue between your teeth, and rise to your feet. As you step up behind him, you drawl, "You've been working so hard lately..."

Your hands settle on his shoulders, and Levi immediately hisses as you dig your fingertips in. They roll back.

It's not just because you've been purposefully working yourself up since lunch; this comes from a place of love. Levi seems to think that the more stressed he is, the more he draws himself thin, the better he is at his job.

Indisputably, no. And you don't much like to be snapped at, either.

"You're hard as a rock. You poor thing," you murmur.

Levi makes a sound, like a strained whimper-turned-groan, and abruptly shrugs you off. You think he's going to say no seriously this time until he stands, turns, and all but spins you around, taking you against his front. You both face his desk.

For a long, arduous moment, he just holds you, breathing harshly into your pulse point. You feel the moment his lashes flutter.

"You..."

You take his hand with a soft squeeze, and guide it downward. "Me? This is about you."

He huffs. "No. I missed. You."

You heart jumps.

Hardness pinned to your backside—He's already hard?—strains as Levi gives in to your hand, and pushes his pointer through your soaked slit. He sighs. "I'm afraid... I can no longer remain professional."

You give him a look over your shoulder; a kiss to his nose. "No one's asking you to, Lev'."

An amused huff is breathed against your neck. His eyes float closed as his finger runs up to your clit, and rolls around in circles. Around and around and around.

You whimper, jaw dropping open. "Please."

"So impatient.... Fuck, you're soaked." He kisses your neck, sinking in his teeth.

You're not sure if he means you, or him.

"Keep, keep going," you sigh.

"I got work to do. Papers to grade," he says, two fingers dipping into your cunt. "But you're getting so tight."

He withdraws them and holds them up slightly for you. Scissoring them displays sticky strings of cum connecting his fingers.

"Can you even wait till we're in the car?"

You scoff softly and lean back against the strong frame behind you, pelting off heat, and the fucking rock pressed to your ass.

"I'm not the one who's hard," you say. "How d'you plan to hide that? Maybe we should fuck once or twice, and save the car for later."

His breathing has grown deep. Palms kneed your plush tits, rolling your nipples firmly under his thumbs.

"When did you start getting so fucking cute with me?" he snips, and squeezes.

"I was always cute," you moan. His muscles turn rigid. "You just started letting me get away with it."

He groans. "Bend over and spread your legs. 'Relieve my stress'."

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Levi, on his back in bed with just one of your sweaters on—a plush, wooly white one—whose sleeves sag around his elbows. One hand holds his bare thigh open, and his other is around his cock, weeping and hard between his soft thighs.

He barely slows at the new sight of you, encouraging a soft smile oozing with satisfaction to quirk your lips.

Heat had stirred in your belly, hearing his soft breathy sighs from the hall, and now you discreetly press your thighs together where you stand at the doorway. You just watch.

He still doesn’t stop, but the pink on his cheeks darkens when you don’t approach, stretching below his collar where his sweater begins.

“Look at you,” you murmur, eyes drifting all down his body. “Want help with that?”

In response, he lets his cock go and leans up so he’s in the perfect position to land a heavy kiss on his lips. The grunt he makes dissolves into a low groan as his hands latch onto your waist.

“Why the fuck did you go n’ leave me like that?” he stammers into the kiss. His hand dives into your hair as you continue sucking wet marks in a trail down his throat.

“Like what?” you chuckle.

He groans again, taking one of your hands and shoving it up underneath his sweater, where heat pelts off his soft muscles. Your cool hands quickly warm on their way over his pecs.

“What, baby?”

“When you do things for me…” Levi stalls; with your relationship being his first, it’s pulling teeth for him to articulate the ways you make him feel. “You can’t tease me like that.”

Your chuckle has hot breath puffing into the hollows of his collarbones. “Cute.”

Your palm rides over his sternum and rubs around his peaky nipple. Finally stroking, firm and slow, makes Levi gasp.

Seeing, hearing the effect you have on him—you clit softly throbs.

“Want me to do something about it?” you tease, despite yourself.

He rubs your hip, a hand darting up your shirt and dipping into your bra. A hard, “Obviously,” is breathed against your jaw.

You lick your lips as you shuffle between his thick thighs, deliberating. They subtly try to close around your middle.

You tut. “Don’t move, Levi.”

With your heavy tongue, you lick a line from the dark wiry hairs below his navel to his sternum, pushing the wool up and out of the way as you lick.

“Let me give it to you,” you say.

In response, his hand follows up the nape of your neck, and rubs your scalp.

Down below his waist, you swallow a noise at what you see. His cock idles hard and hued deeply red, telling you just how long he’s been at this by himself.

“Were you waiting on me?” You lick into the hollow of his hip. “Edging yourself?”

He hisses softly as your palm wraps around his thick base, sliding up to the tip. “Y-Yes.”

On the first pump, his thighs twitch, but remain still.

“Good boy,” you sigh, nearly whimpering, and suckle one of his balls into your mouth.

He all but cries out with the firm suctioning of your mouth. You feel his dick strain against your cheek, muscles tensing to keep still.

You give his taint a lick, and move up, following a particularly thick vein on the side. In return, you earn a little whimper.

You want him louder. Following up to his round tip, you suction it between your lips, and taste thick salt as it rolls over your tongue.

Your eyes flutter up to his, barely open, and moan softly.

“Fuck,” he hisses, heavily through his teeth. “You’re so, fucking…”

In your firm grasp, his cock throbs. His hips twitch underneath you, finally, while his hands are all over your hair, pushing as much of it out of your face as possible while simultaneously inching you down for more.

You grunt in disapproval, pulling off and licking your swollen lips.

His eyes widen in confusion, leaving his cock to strain, helpless, on top of his pelvis. “No, why’d you—?”

“‘cause you’re disobeying,” you respond, like it’s obvious. All he gets for now is a single fingertip sliding up his taint.

Levi shivers, fists white in the sheets. “I’m-I’m not.”

“You are.” That fingertip, now slick with his cum, rocks into his slit.

A poorly-concealed whine slides between his grit teeth, and his hips jolt, thighs nearly closing around it.

“See?”

“Doesn’t count,” he argues weakly. “Fucking touch me.”

“It does, and you’re trying to boss me around, too, which means you’re not coming.”

A frantic “No!” leaves him before you’re even done talking.

Levi realizes his mistake. A hotter blush spreads across his cheeks as your eyes land on him, and what little he was being given leaves him.

“Why don’t you show me...?” His faint voice trails off, legs spreading. The twitching muscles on his belly peek out from under the sweater's hems. “Teach me a lesson. On…”

His total inability to tell you want he wants is cute, in a way; a wave of heat rolls through your lower half. Now you’re interested (even if you weren’t... you’d still want to get him off, one way or another).

“To be good?” You spread his legs far apart and launch forward so his knees bend and land squarely on his pecs. Pinned.

You’ve always loved his insane flexibility. Levi only grunts in surprise, his arms flying back to brace himself.

“You want me to teach you how to be a good boy, Lev’?”

He starts to say your name, but you shove the sweater up before he can finish, lumped up around his sharp collarbones. His muscles, especially on his belly, are folded by the press.

Levi squirms. He’s more than vulnerable to whatever you plan to do to him now.

“Answer,” you demand.

He hides his face in the collar, but he grits out, “Y-Yes, just make me come.”

He abruptly spreads his thighs as far as they’ll go, exposing his swollen cock and balls, but especially his pink hole. His balls are hugged by his very inner thighs, trapped.

He shrinks under your gaze. “Please.”

You find yourself smiling. “That’s a good start, baby,” you say, and take his neglected cock in a loose fist.

“Hah.”

You lean down, spit, and revel in his gasp as a glob of spit rolls down, over his twitching hole.

“Let’s see if you can keep your word, hm?”

Enter the event here!

“I told them you don't like sweets,” you’re imploring him through the door, floundering for excuses.

“It’s not your fault.” His tone is flat, but he means every goddamn word. “You’d be—stupid to blame yourself for any of this.”

“But it’s not your fault, either!”

He blinks mildly at no particular spot in the bathroom. Once you both got home, he just… needed somewhere to be by himself. Thirty minutes later, you got worried.

“Levi, I need to pee.”

“Downstairs bathroom.”

Your groan is miserable. “Please just come out. It’s not the end of the world if they don’t like you—”

“They don’t like me,” he snaps. “They looked seconds away from kicking me out of the king’s fucking court.”

“But I like you,” you shoot back. “I love you. I want to marry you.”

After tonight, he wants to ask, why? Did a fraction of the wrongness about him seep into you that soon clouded your judgment, making you think that? Did he trick you?

Early on in your relationship, the harsh differences (they couldn’t be more harsh in fact) between your upbringings were even more clear. He asked himself shit like this back then too, but after some point... the way you made him feel convinced him that none of it mattered.

His years running with gangs in the gentrified shit-holes of the big city, his, more or less, lack of parents. The destitution. Prostitution. Murder.

But you met at a library. Levi caught a lucky break when he enlisted in the military at twenty. He served, got a scholarship in mathematics. You kissed his knuckles and called him beautiful. He bought you flowers, adopted a cat. You proposed to him. You told him he has a heart of gold.

Not that he could ever bring himself to believe you about the last part, but... it was nice to hear regardless.

But tonight it’s back to wondering why all fucking over again.

The silence after your testimony stretches and stretches on, like a lazy bowstring until it threatens to snap. He feels the tension crawling under his skin.

Until shuffling sounds beyond the door: sounds like you’re giving him more time alone.

Good, he wants to think. He wants to be satisfied with that, and… he also wants you to walk away, to find someone good for you who knows how to emote with their face and profess their love to you like fucking Romeo and Juliet without having an embarrassment-induced heart attack. Someone not, or at least less, fucked up than him.

Your parents would get down on their knees and bless your marriage.

Fuck, they wouldn’t shoot this made-up partner of yours the shrewdest glances. Their eyes wouldn’t say, You’re below me, and their mouths wouldn’t say, “You’re a little… Um, aren’t you?”

They wouldn’t act like breathing the same air as him gives them a migraine. Not like, once he was gone they would clear all the rooms of their mansion with incense.

Maybe he’s blowing it up in his head some, but his point is the same. They loathe him. They’re probably disappointed in you, too, which is so much worse.

Levi has sufficiently upset himself even more than he was before.

Normally, he wouldn’t give a shit what even the fucking president thinks about him. He would even retaliate, but these are your parents. Soon to be his family. He practically craved their approval.

He shuffles his feet, sighing softly. He wants to not care what your parents think, and fuel this scenario he has created of you finding someone better, but he knows if that second thing actually happened, then. Well, he wouldn't know what to do.

He is pulled from his dark thoughts by a furry white paw pushing under the door. Pierre wants in. A whiny meeuurooww breaks through the wood, and it’s a little hard not to let his spirits lift.

If it were any normal night, Pierre would be hopping onto the foot of your king-sized bed right about now and searching for a spot, usually curled up behind the bend of your knees.

Tonight he clearly has some complaints.

Sorry, Levi thinks. His finger touches Pierre's pink pawpad, and the pushing grows more anxious.

He is used to people thinking he’s lower than dirt—he got the same treatment when he first started college—but just for once why can’t he be good enough for people whose opinion he cares about?—Besides you, Hange, and Erwin?

He misses the moment Pierre’s paw disappears back under the crack of the door. Again he’s knocked from his depressing monologue when what sounds like a pillow flops on the ground where Pierre must have just been laying.

Brows furrowed, Levi peers under the crack. That is definitely your panda squishmallow.

“What the hell are you doing?” He almost growls. “You’re not sleeping out there on the fucking floor.”

“If I need to pee, I have the downstairs bathroom,” you chime back. “But I can’t sleep without my Levi, so this is the best alternative.”

His eyes squeeze shut. Random squiggles swim behind his eyes before he recovers from that sentence, and opens them.

“I’m not...” He struggles.

Your audible finicking with some sort of blanket pauses. “Not?”

Good enough? Worthy? He pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling like some shitty teenage girl who got stood up on prom night.

“Go sleep in a real bed.”

You don’t even hesitate. “It’s not the same without you. And I don’t think I could sleep at all knowing you’re sitting alone in that bathroom, Levi.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffs.

Surprise is thick in your voice. “Ridiculous? Okay, well look: you don’t decide my feelings for you. No matter how badly you see yourself... I really don’t care.”

Your hand, or maybe your forehead, thumps on the door behind him. “I’ll tell you you’re wrong. Every.” Thump. “Single.” Thump. “Time. I don't care if you ever believe me, either, as long as you... stay to hear me.”

That better be your hand.

He breathes in, and lets it out through his nose. In, and out. In. Out.

Despite knowing him like the back of your hand, he wracks his mind for any horror stories you don’t know about. There has to be something you’re not getting, even though he doesn’t know it himself.

“What if you’re wrong?” he asks, voice hollow.

He hears you sigh, long and even. “Then, I love a bad person.”

His heart drops to his stomach.

“A really bad person who opens the door when I get out of the car, and lets me take his picture even though he hates how he looks in them. And got a fluffy cat even though he doesn’t like cleaning up cat hair.” Your voice falters. “A-And shares chocolate ice cream with me when I’m too full to eat it, even though he hates chocolate.

“A really bad person who I really wanna spend my life with.”

Your speech ends strained.

Meanwhile Levi’s heart is back in his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, period, to even see. He discreetly wipes his eyes, knees hugged to his chest.

“Your family doesn't see it that way,” he grits out. He worries you can’t even hear him. “Their opinion’s important.”

“My family, who met you for the first time tonight. There’s a reason I never really let them meet you: they’re quick to judge and super stuck in their ways.”

“To say the least,” he mutters.

You don’t seem to hear him. “They don’t know you at all, yet, but by the time they do, they’ll change their minds. If not, then, they won’t.

“I love you more than I care what they’ll ever think of you, Lev’.”

You make it all seem so clear, so easy.

He turns so his side is pressed to the door. That’ll make it easier for you to hear him.

Digging his nails in his palm, “Sorry for making you say all that. I, I just don't get why you feel that way.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” you reply calmly. “I could be in bed right now, remember?”

You’re waiting for an answer.

He toys with the silver ring on his finger. “Yeah.”

“You don’t have to get it. I just want you to believe that I feel that way, ‘cause I do. And right now I miss you. Pierre misses you.”

He nibbles on his lip. “…I do.”

With aid from the porcelain counter, he rises to his feet. His stiff feet are refusing to cooperate.

Meuroww.

Before the door can open even wider than a crack, Pierre darts inside and begins circling Levi’s legs.

Levi sees you first however, sitting there on the floor with one of his heavy comforters like a coat over your shoulders.

Your head swivels in his direction as soon as light from the bathroom invades the hallway. Then you shoot to your feet.

He still isn’t sure what to say, especially not after you poured your heart out to him like that.

You step forward first and wrap your arms around him. He goes tense by the suddenness, then reaches up and clasps his hands around the small of your back.

“Come to bed with me,” you murmur. At the end your voice rises, hoping.

He nods into your cheek. “Yeah. Okay.”

Enter the event here!