#ackerifle

it is so sincerely and utterly unfair. there are still far too many things you do not know about your, now, husband. and it is only until long after your departure from the wedding recessional do you ever think to recall such moments of ambiguity from him. but the wedding had gone so well, at least you had thought so, considering it almost made you forget how the evening would inevitably end. you could almost forgive him, for how he was so selfishly, and possessively, claiming you now. baring his teeth, levi is practically fully clothed, while you are bare and naked beneath him— save for the tight leather collar around your neck, tethered by a metal leash that sits pretty in the grip of his right hand.

you’re bent over the bedside, face buried into the silken — now tousled — sheets, along with your hands that held onto them for dear life as he viciously fucked you from behind. how demeaning, humiliating even, but that thought doesn’t dare to cross levi’s mind, not at all. he thinks you’re exquisite. you had looked lovely in your wedding dress and veil, but you look even better now, so helpless and exposed beneath him, so wonderfully, so wholly, his. at first, you had violently clawed and scratched at the collar, struggling with such animalistic vigor when he wrapped it so delicately around your neck. but it seems there’s little to no fight left in you, and your submission brings a sadistic smile to levi’s face.

and as much as he craves to see your face, your expressions of pain and pleasure, to make eye contact with you and intimidate you into giving in further, he’s mesmerized by the way you take him. narrowed, slate eyes observing the way your greedy cunt sucks him back in with every thrust. even as you bit down on your tongue to lower the volume of your moans, your body would betray you, arching your back each time he would buck his hips into you. your skin felt flushed and feverish, leaving you sticky with sweat, and it had become increasingly harder for you to breathe with the collar around your neck. with every tug of the silver chain, you gasped, willing yourself to stay put, and to prevent yourself from going entirely breathless.

and perhaps the worst of it all, was that he had felt so good. as if he already knew how to work you, how to work your body. levi’s left hand was pressed down onto your lower back, his thumb rubbing halfhearted circles on your taut muscles that would’ve soothed you had he been any gentler. he has you panting and heaving, just like he wants— and it shouldn’t have, but his cock filled you up so perfectly, so nicely. every time levi had ruthlessly pounded into you, he would just barely graze your cervix, teasingly pulling at the leash in his hand with every movement. and he knew when you hadn’t choked for air that time, that you were gone.

“i’m glad it all, hah, finally paid off.” levi’s words are incomprehensible to you, pace getting impossibly rougher as if he were intentionally distracting you from his words with each forceful push. fresh tears blurred your darkening vision, and your thighs ardently shook as your sensitive walls enveloped him in a tight embrace, “’ve been watching you for years.”

at this, your eyes snapped open, “had to— make sure you’d remain, ah, faithful to me.” he spoke through low groans and sloppy thrusts into your warm, wet pussy. as if regaining your consciousness, your senses, your arms went straight for the collar. desperately sinking your fingers around the metal buckles, digging your now dull and grated fingernails into the leather until they too, went numb. “’s why i threatened all those shitty brats, those pathetic excuses of suitors of yours.”

levi’s voice began to slur near the end of his confession, but he sounded so, so, content. whether with his own intimidation tactics or with you is unknown. and with his eyes half-lidded, he almost let out a haughty chuckle as he had only now noticed your frenzied scrambling, “told ’em to lay off.” he cursed when you constricted around his length, “or i’d…”

with his left hand, he effortlessly pulled one of your hands from the collar, leading it to rest behind your back. levi leaned forward, pressing down on your nude backside until his stomach laid flat over top of your hand, keeping it in place. his dick twitched inside you when he heard you whimper from the undeniable pressure the slightly altered position granted, as he had pried your other hand in the same manner. had it not been for the fact that levi was now holding both your hands hostage, bound together by your wrists in vice like lock, you may have actually torn through the collar. of course, given a few more hours, maybe.

“or i’d… that’s right.” as if the repetition of his words brought to mind a distant memory, more akin to a repressed recollection of nightmares, levi’s tone dropped forbiddingly flat. and if you had been able to see him, you would have noticed his furious expression, with lips curled into a bitter snarl, and eyes sinisterly glaring down at you. and like a statue, he had stopped moving altogether, “i’ve bloodied my hands for you, broken bones, and fought with those sorry men who thought they had the chance!”

you can’t help the sigh that you softly breathe out. whether out of relief now that his bruising pace had finally stopped, or out of disappointment due to a denied orgasm, you are uncertain. and with your focus elsewhere, his words go straight over your head. but levi doesn’t let up, how dare you not pay attention to him? abruptly, he yanks on the leash with such force, your neck feels as if it’s been decapitated, “so don’t ever say i don’t love you! don’t accuse me of it like you did to your fucking family!” it is like he had completely lost it, snapped out of the euphoric feeling of bliss to lash out at you. and then it finally sinks in, his confessions of coercion and crimes that led up to your inorganic marriage.

but you don’t have a clue as to how he would know of that tight-lipped conversation between you and your relatives. it was in the dead of night, at a grotesque hour where any sound minded individual would have been asleep. only then would you ever profess your dismay for your soon-to-be marital status and husband. and you’re starting to comprehend how serious he was about watching you.

“w-what? hold on–” but it seems that you’ve grasped the severity of your situation too little too late, and you know there’s no point in resisting when levi aggressively slams his hips back down on yours. the fat tip of his cockhead bullying its way back into your dripping cunt, and only until he has stuffed you full again, and he’s satisfied, does he begin fervently moving, “if you didn’t say anything, i— ah, wouldn’t have had to threaten them either!” levi finally concludes with gritted teeth and a tense jaw.

it doesn’t take long for him to work your body again, to push you over the edge, and give you what you want. the licentious and shameless noises you make while he splits you open on his dick only spur him on further, and levi is adamant about holding out to prove his point. even as it becomes absurdly burdensome to keep his own eyes open, he does, just so he can see you come undone. grunting, he crudely drags you one last time by the leash, collar constricting around your throat as levi shoves himself so deep inside of you that it feels that you two have become one. and it’s heavenly when you reach your high, you almost forget about how mercilessly he had coaxed your climax from you, how your body aches, and how perilously you’re in need of air. you almost forget the way it feels when he too, reaches his high, pulling out of you and pumping his cock over your lower back.

you are starting to believe that captain levi’s office is becoming yours with how often you spend your time there. even your fellow special operations squadmates tease you for your absence now that you’ve taken on the new — and quite precarious — position as vice captain. although you have yet to find a plausible reason as to why the captain promoted you in the first place, let alone allowed your entry into his meticulously handpicked squad. and coincidentally, you simply cannot recall the last time you had a break from captain levi’s overbearing presence, and his room, since becoming his vice captain.

oftentimes, at this late hour in the evening, it is you who brews and brings tea for captain levi— per his request, that is, and for whatever godforsaken reason that he has yet to divulge, but who are you to defy orders? the first day you had been requested to his office to assist with the arduous hours of labor that was completing paperwork, you had thought to prepare some tea. it was meant to be a kind, one-time, gesture of reassurance and camaraderie from your end. but now you fear that your captain’s become rather spoiled, as the second time around when you had showed up empty handed, he looked far from pleased.

so alas, you come to a standstill in front of his office’s door. pitch perfect posture, not a thread misplaced on your uniform, and hands settled onto the handles of a small silver platter tray. your eyes absentmindedly drift to the contents atop the salver: a ceramic teapot that is far too nice to have been found in the survey corps, two matching cups and saucers of the same lavish set, a dainty teaspoon, a creamer, and a bowl for sugar cubes accompanied by sugar tongs; and even though you know quite well that he doesn’t utilize the latter two dishware, you are adamant about keeping them for formality's sake. but you can’t help but feel that you’ve neglected to include something in the assortment.

due to your hands being held hostage by the tea that captain levi was so persistent on you delivering, you clear your throat to announce your arrival, “sir, it’s vice captain name.” he doesn’t entertain your salutation with a response of his own, but rather, gauchely slams open the door with concerning haste. you dwell on the fact that it was just too fast, even for someone of his caliber, almost inhumanely so, and it makes you speculate if levi was stationed right at the entrance, waiting for you.

levi’s expression is unreadable, but his frown is apparent as ever. he’s blocking the doorway with his body, one hand holding the door at arms length, and the other pointing inside the room towards the desk at the center of his office, “you, inside. now.” his voice is stern, addressing you as if he were reprimanding you for insubordination. it causes you to grimace, but you know better than to test levi’s last nerve.

you step inside, cautious as to not tip over any of the cups, or cause the tea you had spent such a fastidious amount of time brewing to overflow out past the flange of the teapot. hurriedly and heedfully all in the same, you navigate your way to the guest-side front of levi’s desk, avoiding the chair and stacks of paperwork in your way; and you are beyond attentive whilst lowering the silver plate down until it is completely flat on the table. you don’t release your white knuckled grip on the handles until you see the contents on the platter tray have stopped trembling. had you not been so immersed in your soundless struggle to appease levi’s strict cleanliness standards, you would have picked up on the sound of the door being locked.

sighing softly, relieved, you slump your shoulders and pull the chair beside you by its crest rail, wincing when it scrapes against the floor and creating an obnoxious screech in retaliation, before taking a seat. levi enters your line of vision from the left, and you flinch when he cuts unnecessarily close to you, enough for you to feel his uniform’s coat brush past yours, but not enough to feel his body beneath it. a scowl instinctively makes its way on your face, one that you cannot hide, and you’re thankful he didn’t catch it, faced away from you entirely. levi swivels his heel with sharp precision once he’s stood on his side of the desk, standing in front of his chair, but he doesn’t sit.

there is a pair of inkwells on the desk, wedged between the piles of untouched documents, and you take hold of the one that still has its lid sealed on. near to the opened inkwell are a couple of feather pens, one is in rough condition, and two seem untainted by the ink and whatever iron grip they were unfortunately subjected to for the past few hours. you retrieve the one furthest from the middle of the table, and when it finally dawns on you that levi has still yet to make a move to sit down after a lengthy silence, you hesitantly tilt your head to take a glance in his direction.

he appears in deep thought, concentrated on something beyond your immediate comprehension, until you follow his gaze down to the silver tray. and now that you bring your attention to it, the tea has a delightful aroma to it, and smells as though it’s finally been steeped long enough— “you forgot the strainer.” levi isn’t pointing it out, he’s chastising you.

pesky tea leaves, curse you. perhaps an oversight on your part, the one that you had intuitively sensed earlier but could not place a finger to, but minuscule as a stand-alone mishap. how mean of him, really, it was as if levi was trying to find something he could fault you in. and considering the scrupulous amount of time he took to detect such a minor mistake, he would not be satisfied until he did. you can’t ascertain whether it’s because levi loathes the thought of you doing anything right without his personal interference, or he simply gets a power trip by nitpicking at you. you’re starting to believe it’s both.

“i’m sorry, i can go get one right now—” levi interrupts you, or more fittingly, silences you, without even so much as uttering a word. he takes the handle of the teapot with the two fingers of his right hand, mindful of its fragility, and gathering the teacups together in his left hand. “nonsense, i already have one.”

levi turns his back to you, setting the ceramics atop the dressers lined up on the wall behind his desk. without missing a beat, he locates the drawer containing this supposed strainer with ease, and sure enough, a tiny mesh tea strainer can be seen pinched between his pointer finger and thumb. of course captain levi has this in his office, he may as well have the whole tea set hidden in that drawer, and of course, captain levi can compensate for every single flaw and shortcoming his vice captain has.

his fondness for the craft is evident as he takes it into his own hands to strain the tea for both cups, “sir, i could have done that.” forcing yourself to avert your eyes, as if dismissing the whole (ridiculous) ordeal altogether, aggravatedly setting the closest report down in front of you and skimming the words, “i know.”

levi returns to his seat, this time, he does sit, but not after returning the teapot and teacups to their rightful places on the expertly organized platter, “here.” he lifts one of the cups in that peculiar way that he always does, by the edge of its rim, and extends a hand towards you, “you brewed it, it’d be a shame for me to enjoy all this good quality tea alone.”

reluctantly, you entangle your hands around the handle, impatiently pulling it from his grasp before he can properly let go, and you drink until the teacup is half empty. sparing a passing glance at levi as you carefully set the cup back on its respective saucer, he seems satiated.

falling into routine, the rest of your exchange is done quietly. only the sound of feather pens making detailed incisions on the papers ricocheted throughout the idle office. and perhaps it’s the finely written cursive on the papers, or that it is well past curfew, but your eyelids feel unbearably heavy. it had become increasingly difficult for you to remain upright, slightly swaying in your seat, desperately attempting to regain your composure every time you nearly fall out of your chair. one particularly long blink has you absolutely reeling once you open your eyes, but the feeling of something brushing against your knee has you retaining consciousness instantaneously.

parting your lips with a surprised exhale, your eyes peer down to your legs, but there is nothing out of the ordinary. it must have been the inner side of the desk, the opening that created leg room so two people could sit comfortably across from one another. that sounded far better than accusing your captain of purposefully invading your personal space— seeing as such a thing has never happened before, him intentionally rubbing against your knee with his own, that is. you dismiss the notion altogether, but then it happens again, and this time, it feels like a hand.

“did… did you just touch me?” levi calmly takes his focus off his paperwork, momentarily stilling the movement of his feather pen, “no.” but for some reason, you still doubt him. and levi surmises as much as his eyes narrow, though not with suspicion, but something else that you can’t quite figure out in your delirious state, “are you sure?”

“do you want me to touch you?” he inquires with such sudden seriousness, it catches you off guard. your reaction time has been awful, but you almost immediately blurt out a; “no.” and your response is a little too quick for his liking.

“no?” levi echoes coldly.

no, that is what you recall from your last moments of blurred consciousness, but you can’t remember if you had said it, or levi had. quite honestly, that had become the least of your concerns as soon as you opened your eyes. met with the unforgiving glare of the sun shining through a suspiciously large window that most certainly didn’t belong to your room, you break into a sweat when you inhale the familiar scent of someone else, and you’ve become increasingly aware of how unbearably warm you are. you’ve been stripped bare, and despite being engulfed in a tangle of blankets and sheets, you feel disturbingly exposed. and you know this feeling, one of another naked body pressed against your backside and a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. any move you had initially tried to make was futile, thrashing about to free your own arms from the lock of the other pair, tugging at his wrists and pushing them down with all your might.

it was simply too good to be true, you had known it then, and you know it now. but wishful thinking and desperation will do terrible things to good people, no soul would willingly continue living in the underground should they find themselves with any better alternative. at a constant risk of disease and decay, mother nature’s evident distaste for her children dwelling beneath the surface, careless to the living that remained untouched by the sun. abandoned by its creators in favor of more ‘pressing matters,’ the people left relinquished in a forgotten city of ruins had fallen on hard times, people like yourself.

and thus, you had found yourself in quite the predicament. although nothing in your life had ever come particularly easy, and this once, just this once, you could manage all on your own. there was no shame in working in a brothel, not when the people around you were often worse off than yourself, and pride was a small price to pay for simply surviving. it was only once you had first bared witness to the frequent deaths of the other prostitutes had you ever come to the realization that the madam must have really favored you a lot— to clean you, to clothe you, to feed you, to care for you; to keep you. but the state of affairs in the underground have since changed from the time of your youth, you’ve changed. you wanted out, and you were not immune to making grave sacrifices for what you wanted.

you’ve encountered and met many clients in your time, men and women alike, and it is rare for new faces to draw your attention. but as of late, there has been one. a soldier from the surface, a military police member who seemed far too young to be venturing below the safety and security of the royal capital by himself, and far too naïve to be falling absolutely head over heels for some prostitute who only offers an hour and faux moans in return. it almost tugs at your heartstrings, almost. he isn’t as innocent as he looks, and you are reminded why terrible things happen to good people. he had held citizenship over your head since the moment he met you, through legal marriage, and one simple request: that you give him a child. after all, who was a man of his merit to invest such a scrupulous amount of time into a common whore without the reassurance she won’t leave him right away?

so you do, allowing him to touch and hold you in a way your other clients could only dream of. to whisper sweet nothings in your ear about your future together, because admittedly, you too are thinking the same thing. thinking about your future, but you find that there is nothing romantic about it. and perhaps the worst of it all, he hasn’t come back for you.

laying down on your tarnished bed of tattered sheets and thin blankets, you stare aimlessly at the darkened ceiling. without thought and without interest, it has been weeks, maybe months, and you think you’ve truly fallen ill, “dammit, i knew i shouldn't've let that prestigious prick back in here.” forever grateful and beholden to the brothel keeper, she continues to tend to your needs, even now.

“look at you. so sad, little girl.” the madam coos apathetically, but her actions say otherwise. a gentle hand checks your temperature, brushing aside any loose strands of hair with the swipe of her thumb. her frown only deepens when she just barely pushes your head back, met with complete compliance as your head tilts further into the pillow from even the slightest of movements. somehow, you’re still so tired and still so restless, “i’m sorry.”

she’s upset with you. she’s been upset with you ever since you’d been involved with that shady scumbag, but truthfully the madam is more upset with herself. and she wants to ask why you of all people are apologizing, but she doesn’t, “i’m sorry too.” there is more she yearns to say, her mouth is still open, as if to somehow keep you responsive in this one-sided conversation, but nothing comes out. and it’s too late when there are three loud and concise knocks banging on the door downstairs.

the madam is quick to pry a worried hand from your unresponsive body, storming towards the exit of the oppressive room, but not without taking a curious glance in your direction. her remorse does not last long, as she shuts the door with a shove, but is intentional in not forcing it too hard. and you are left alone. swallowing dryly, your eyes dart around the room, and you wonder just how intense that person must have been hounding at the door for both you and the madam to hear it from a story above. but that was no matter, it was already noisy in the brothel, the walls were thin because peace and quiet was no luxury anyone living there could afford; and who knows how many women you shared the small space with. and surprisingly, it benefitted you greatly to be sick, as the madam refused to work you; and you’d known girls who worked during pregnancy, it never did end well for them.

deafening commotion could be heard ringing throughout the brothel, to the point it had felt as if the walls were shaking and the building was caving in. you chalked it up to hysterical figments of your imagination, that the floorboards beneath your bed weren’t vibrating, and that the sound of a panicked woman and determined man arguing with one another weren’t getting closer, “sir! galatea isn’t well, she’s not seeing anyone right now!”

“i don’t give a shit, lady. i know name is still here, she hasn’t left this fucking whorehouse in a month.” it pains you that you recognize this voice, and it isn’t the one you want to hear.

brazenly, the door is reopened with much more ferocity and wrath than it had initially been closed with, and it startles you. despite anticipating a confrontation as the verbal fight had neared your room, it comes as a surprise when the door nearly breaks free from its hinges, revealing an all too familiar black haired man. he looks awful in the dour lighting, and he adorned a uniform that haunted your very soul. a lesser version of what the military police had dressed in, lacking the coat with their respective symbol, it was the odm gear that struck you odd. eyes averting, you had noticed madam — who was standing behind him, with a languid arm extended towards his figure as if to grab him — was somehow much worse for wear as she had a dramatic hand over her heart as she caught her breath.

you regret not locking the door, but then again, that has never stopped levi from doing what he wants. he calls to you only by your name, and your spine crawls. whipping his head around, the hand levi had placed over the hilt of one of the unsheathed blades draws it from the holder, and he wastes no time in threatening the madam. it only takes the sight of the sharpened edge looming dangerously close to her neck for you to yell at her to get out. she hesitates, and you know why, the madam has failed to protect you countless times from levi, but this will be the time it counts, and she knows it too. but the downright malicious glare levi sends her way has her halted in her steps, and she makes no effort to stop levi as he enters the room and places a deceivingly quiet palm flat on the door, all whilst maintaining eye contact with her, before he slams the door behind him.

you set your hand on the bed, forcing yourself to sit up as levi stomps his way over to you. and the closer he gets, the more uncharacteristically messy you realize his clothes are. the white shirt he so often wears is not clean, it’s rather dirty in all honesty, sullied with what appears to be sidestreet grime and dross filth. his boots are muddy, dragging in sludge and black water that hadn’t already been scraped off at the doorstep and staircase. but perhaps what was the most disturbing were the stains of blood on his gear, ranging from inconspicuous flecks to big streaks that were likely still wet. levi must’ve noticed your perturbed observation, because when he finally finds himself standing before you, he bends down and grabs your jaw in his hand, roughly squeezing your face, and leaning down until your noses are just barely touching.

“i leave you alone for a month, and you let some piece of shit from the mp’s knock you up?” it’s his eyes that are the scariest, more than his strength, and you crumble underneath his scrutinizing gaze. your retaliation is much more timid than you intend it to be, as if you were guilty and confessing your sins. sins of disloyalty to a man you aren’t even with in the first place, “you can’t expect me to want to stay here, i saw a way out, and i was going to take it.”

it doesn’t cross your mind to question how he knows all of this. you’ve simply accepted it as fact that you will never experience true privacy after meeting levi. in retrospect, it’s ludicrous that you’re even explaining yourself to him, but you are and it’s not helping your case, “and how did that work out for you?” levi spits venomously, violently shaking your head side to side in his grasp until your eyes were rattling in your skull. levi only lets go to prop his foot up onto the side of the bed.

instinctively, you lean away from his knee, which is almost parallel to your head, setting your hand on his calf in an attempt to direct his body away from yours. levi places the blade he had refused to release from his grip back into the metal box it belonged in, dropping his leg to the ground and hoisting you up by your shoulders, “groveling at the feet of those pigs, you’ve become real pathetic, haven’t you?” you want to defend yourself, to call him a hypocrite, to call him pathetic for harassing someone like you that was undeserving of his badgering.

“how did you even know he was a soldier?” deflecting the topic from yourself to your genuine concerns, you go limp in his arms as levi twirls you around the room until he’s satisfied with your placement. positioning you in front of the windows, leaning slightly on the stool as he pushed you backwards until you could feel the cold glass frame through your nightgown. levi slovenly flicks the sash lock, holding onto the lift and pushing the window up, “where do you think i got all of this from?” you didn’t need any clarification to know that levi was referring to his equipment.

your chest tightens, constricting your airway as you stop breathing altogether to attain perfect stillness. you only look at him with vacant eyes, and it becomes too much when he doesn’t elaborate any further, “what did you do, levi?” he sticks his head through the window, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the top rail, and peering down at the ‘city,’ below. it isn’t as if he needed to, there wasn’t anyone on the streets. when levi pulls himself back into the room, he slings an arm around your hips to bring you closer, “what do you think i did? the man’s dead, do i have to spell it out for you?”

the prickling sensation underneath your skin erupts in waves across your entire body. you were no stranger to the realities of what went on around you, the hushed rumors of what men and women who had the will to do what they wanted to others simply because they were capable, and not out of survival necessity, “you’re sick, what is wrong with you?”

“call it what you want, but he has nothing for you. you want to leave the underground? hmph, well don’t we all?” levi mocks contemptuously, tightening his hold when he feels you threaten to slip away in the slightest. he moves you around like a rag doll by the sides of your body, until you're in front of him. levi closes the little space that was left between you, until you’re forced to grab onto him for support, seeing that straining your wrists to secure yourself by the windowsill was becoming too painful, “we can go wherever you want, but you won’t be going anywhere without me.”

suddenly, levi veers down. his body collapsing onto yours until you’re nearly halfway out of the window, and he, looming over you, “oh my god, what is wrong with you?!” you repeat, blood rushing to your head as you try to prevent your upper half from being upside down and being taken by gravity completely. levi guides your arms around his neck, loosely as you refuse to acknowledge you’re even embracing him in the first place, but your fear of falling surpasses your personal grudges. and in one swift motion, levi thrusts the rest of your body out of the window, and he follow suits mere seconds afterward. and you scream, as loud as humanly possible.

levi’s body never leaves yours, and you’re uncertain as to whether it’s because you won’t allow it, or because he won’t allow it. either way, the detach hold you had on his neck fastened into a tight chokehold the moment you had felt yourself even remotely lean back any further. the landing is much smoother than you anticipated, levi doesn’t let you touch the ground before he does. and if you hadn’t shut your eyes, or buried your face into the crook of his neck, you may have gotten to witness the vertical maneuvering equipment in action; what used to be a dream for you, to leave with it, but you could kiss those fantasies goodbye now that they found themselves in the hands of levi. and he’s cautious, all too cautious with you.

there is something innately unnerving about working so late into the night. it doesn’t help that any remnants of the sun’s presence had since been replaced by the humorless light of the moon, almost mockingly as it shone down on the equally dour and somber asylum. but much to your pleasure, you had been away for the entirety of the day, a blessing for you, but a curse for the recon psychiatric hospital. the asylum without its head nurse may have been left in ruins had you not returned any sooner, all thanks to a particularly high-maintenance patient, one you happened to be on your merry way to see.

delivering medications was child’s play; wonderfully easy, lacking in any form of demanding labor, and so effective. in spite of the fact that you were still quite privy to the more intense and morally questionable procedures performed by the doctors and assisted by the fellow nurses, it wasn’t like you to get your hands dirty. perhaps that is why they always stuck you with the night shift, because it was much simpler and favorable to deal with unconscious patients.

in your dominant hand grasped a singular nonbenzodiazepine pill, colorless and bland, an all white capsule with the only labeling being a letter ‘z,’ engraved on the surface of the medication. it was pinched between your forefinger and thumb, and you were careful as not to be too rough; what would be a sign of poor handling on your part, but you also held an insouciant grip on it to prevent any powdery residue from getting onto your skin. a glass, or rather faux-glass, cup took the empty space of your other hand. a glass half empty with water from two corridors down, courtesy of the leaky faucet from the dingy kitchenette. for once, the water appeared tasteful in the luster of the night, it made you lick your lips when you held the clear glassware up above you as you passed beneath the ceiling lights.

your pace was slowed so as to not allow the water to slosh around too much within its confines, and you made sure the uneven steps on the top floor’s staircase wouldn’t impair neither your ankles, nor fingers. when you had conquered the ascent and found yourself steady on flat ground, you stood motionless and inspected your hand, letting the pill gracelessly fall from your fingertips to the cup of your palm. folding your hand to cover the tablet, you continued down the daunting hallway.

had you not been working at an asylum, you would’ve run for the hills upon seeing such a sight: formidable walls and weak floorboards that creaked under the slightest weight, defectively dismal lighting that was unreliable at its best (constantly flickering) and completely useless at its worst (broken and shattered), and an indefinite silence that would likely cause one to go mad. this was the location deemed as ‘solitary confinement,’ seeing that there was no applicable area for those who deserved such a punishment. the courtyards and other floors were regarded unfit, as it was often frequented by patients and staff alike, and the most suitable section, the basement, was… occupied for more unruly operations.

the latter thought causes a cold shiver to crawl down your spine, and you shake your head with leaden stagnancy to avoid remembering the imagery. thankfully, it doesn’t take long to reach your destination, and you bend down to crouch in front of the door before you. with observant eyes, you gently set the cup down onto the floor, grimacing at how it touches the ground, and you retract your fingers from the body of the glass once the water’s splashes reduce to complete stillness. rising to your feet and straightening your posture, you dig into your pocket, rummaging for the ring of keys set, and looking for the singular key to the top floor’s only inhabited room. you avoid looking into the pathetic excuse of a window, eyes trained to the doorknob; insert, turn right, and pull back. sliding the ring of keys back into your pocket, you take a risky hold of the glass, raising it back up to your level by the rim.

there is absolutely no sense of urgency when you open that door, guiding it with your dominant hand as the inside of the room begins to reveal itself. stepping inside and far enough away from the door’s line of movement, you make eye contact with the patient residing within the recon psychiatric hospital’s loneliest floor, and he does not look happy. your gaze doesn’t shift, locked in place as you feel around for the door, pushing it back with a harsh shove, and only moving once you hear the bolts fasten it closed with an obnoxious slam. you idly meander your way over to the bed, where he is sat, one leg crossed over the other and his hands interlocked atop his knee. he doesn’t look to be someone who requires psychiatric treatment like this, but you’re no fool.

“i heard you gave dr. zoë quite the scare earlier.” you turn your hand faced up, unfurling your grip and displaying the capsule that continues to sit unperturbed in the cradle of your palm. a sour expression was already present on levi’s face, but at the mention of your peer, his eyebrows furrow and lips tug further into a frown, “where were you?”

taking a small step forward, you gradually traipse closer towards the bed that was pressed into the right corner of the room. he is motionless, even as you near. you dully tilt your head to the side with a quizzical look, it is only until you’re within arms reach does levi unravel from the stiff position, uncrossing his legs and unfolding his arms, “you can’t go terrorizing our psychiatrists and psychologists—”

“where were you?” your face falls at his demanding tone, but that is the least of your concerns once you feel levi’s eager hands on your body. simultaneously, he languidly spreads his legs apart until there is enough room for you to stand in between them; something you fail to take notice of as you’re far too distracted by him grabbing you by your torso, digging his fingers dangerously close to the underside of your breasts, then sliding down and tapping his fingers against the sides of your stomach, squeezing almost playfully, before he ultimately decides to sink his claws into your hips.

abrasively jerking you forward, levi’s arms snake around your waist until his hands meet one another overtop the curve on your lower back. you gasp when he pulls you closer, gaping with distraught panic at the glass of water, which fortunately did not spill, but it had come close. your knees collide with the inner side of his thighs, and you clasp your hand that was holding onto the z-drug to restrain it in place, so as not to lose it. once fully retaining your stability, your eyes dart down to levi, offering him an irked glare and placing the closed fist of your dominant hand on his shoulder, attempting to push him back to provide yourself some space. he doesn’t budge whatsoever, even when you continue your futile efforts in prying him off of you.

“where were you?” he repeats for the third time, but when he asked, levi didn’t sound pushy or domineering, unlike the previous two times, just bemused. your attention finally drops down to him, analytically observing as he gaped up at you. it was almost as if he looked at you with vacant, absentminded eyes with the way he refused to avert his gaze, but his gawking was anything but absentminded. his eyes felt intimate, accompanied by his endearing touches and the close proximity. you felt intimidated to hold this unspoken staring contest, “i, well, i was away.”

levi leans into you, until his head can rest in the crook of your neck. you’re rigid in his hold, refusing to let up your firm posture, only slightly bending to accommodate his height, “where?” you grind your molars together, and although you have the right to leave his questions unanswered, you do respond anyway just to satiate his curiosity, “my presence was requested for an asylum in stohess.”

“and what business do they have that involves you?” levi withdraws away from your neck, only to place his chin in between your collar bones, angling his head to look up at you, “i’ve been requested for a possible transfer, there is a young girl over there, i believe her name is annie… regardless, they think she’ll do better in my care. that’s why i’ve been telling you that you need to treat the other staff nicer.”

levi gives you an incredulous scowl, hands shooting up to cup either side of your face and drawing you closer until you’re nearly forehead to forehead. his eyes are awfully scary when he’s this close, and his voice goes monotonous, “you aren’t going. that’s ridiculous, they need you transferred to help one patient?” he asserts as if he’s the one in charge of that choice, you scoff.

“it’s ridiculous to stay for one patient, levi.” you’re given a break from the leer he was boring practically into your skull as he rolls his eyes, “it’s not your place or mine to finalize this decision. please don’t be difficult, it’s past time you take your medication.” it is both extremely embarrassing and annoying that you have to beg him to do literally anything, considering it only further feeds into his power and control complex when it comes to you.

he’s quiet for a while after that. perhaps not totally out of the ordinary for him, but you can see the gears turning in his head. levi is thinking about something, and whatever it is, it cannot be good. suppressing your unease, you careen backwards, breaking free from his clutch, but not without dipping your clenched hand into his, finally letting go of the pill. levi’s focus is redirected to the little white caplet, and you nudge the glass of water against his other hand. you cross your arms, waiting impatiently, and his eyes briefly flicker towards you before placing the pill in his mouth, mindful as not to accidentally swallow it, before tossing his head back and taking a hefty sip of water. levi raises the empty glass, and you take it from him, practically snatching it out of his hands and kneeling to set it down on the discolored and tarnished floorboards.

when you stand up and dust off your uniform, levi peers at you expectantly. and you let out a defeated sigh, to which levi smiles, “come here.” you instruct him to do so, but it is you coming to him. levi reels you in by the buckle of your apron, causing you to stumble over your own feet. you place both of your hands flat on his shoulders to ground yourself, wordlessly scolding him with a glare, one that only makes his smile grow wider.

you set your middle finger and thumb on the underside of his jaw, pulling it down slack and examining the inside of his mouth. your other hand finds itself on his cheek while you force his head to the left, then to the right, “lift your tongue.” levi obeys, pressing the muscle to the roof of his mouth, you press an index finger down onto his front teeth, causing his head to incline. you’re far too focused on ensuring that he actually consumed the pill to notice levi had gotten increasingly closer to you, and more level as well. levi catches you off guard when he bites down on your finger—

“ow! levi, i— what the hell? why would you do that?” you jump back, cradling the injured appendage in your other hand, mortified at the bite mark it had left on his wake. levi doesn’t give you much time to fully curse him out like you had wished, seizing you by your hips once more and falling back onto the bed, sitting upright with you at his mercy.

you descend with him, landing in a position that has you straddling his lap. the flat of your palm pries at his shoulder and chest, while your other arm is captured by his own hand, unbothered by your feeble endeavors in distancing yourself from him. levi’s other hand slides across the back of your neck, gripping onto your nape with a strict hold before pushing your head forward. his lips are on yours in an instant, letting go of your arm in favor of cruelly pinching your nose. you almost gag, frantically gasping for air, and without hesitation, levi’s tongue bullies its way into your mouth. and through the feeling of his hand tightening around the back of your neck, of his teeth nipping at your lips, of his tongue dominating yours; there is the feeling of a foreign object, and it feels like a pill.

wildly fighting his hold renders you breathless, and this is a fight you cannot win. tears swell in the corners of your bleary eyes, and the urge to cough becomes more eminent. to subdue the desire to hack and wheeze — which would certainly end in you choking — you instinctively swallow back the build up of both yours and levi’s saliva that gathered in the back of your esophagus. levi draws back from the kiss when he sees the lump in your throat bob and disappear, but he makes no move to release you, only relaxing his hands in their place. and it is now that you remember why he was administered to this asylum in the first place.

“i should’ve done this a long time ago…” apart of you wishes that z-drugs were immediately effective, just so you wouldn’t have to be conscious during your struggle against levi— which was, as always, in vain. it must have been due to the lack of air that you could only recount fragments of what happened. you turned your heel to flee, but levi had pinned you to the ground, keeping you in place with a chokehold that was alarming for someone who had been allegedly sedentary during his time in solitude. if your memory served you correctly, the sound of keys jingling and a door being unlocked could be heard; but whether it was in your dreams or in reality is unknown to you.

levi is quiet; whether he is simply navigating day-to-day life and the woes that come with it, out running errands to continue the prosperous lifestyle the two of you have chosen to live together, cleaning and tidying up to his liking to maintain a well-kept and well-loved house, or driving an hour to your work and watching you work at the top of the forty floor building from his parked car to ensure you aren’t engaging in infidelity, levi is a quiet man. and because levi is a quiet man, he often carrie’s out the housework duties in complete and utter silence. but today, today he does not. humming softly, soothingly to an unknown melody, he happens to be rather content.

even if he was only preparing dinner for the two of you, the act itself was one levi would proceed to spend an unfathomable amount of time perfecting. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to do so, a doss act that demonstrated his devotion and respect to your precious time, levi always made dinner. but even so, today it was different, today it was special. an ode to commemorate your wedding anniversary, one levi certainly hasn’t cut any corners with, nor forgotten in the slightest. the thought alone makes him giddy with childish excitement and delirium, makes levi want to smile stupidly and lose track of time. what a silly notion, let it be known that he would be doing none of that, but one can dream.

perhaps if he could have remained in that quaint, fanciful state of mind, levi wouldn’t have made such a harrowing discovery. tilting towards the cabinets with one hand on the cupboard door and the other reaching blindly inside to search for a particular ingredient, levi could tell this was not what he was looking for. far from it, really, and he’s absolutely pissed.

a tiny clear bottle, no bigger than the span that measured the length of his forefinger, it was sealed haphazardly, and contained miniature tablets with rounded edges. with an incredulous look and an arrogant huff, levi raises the translucent container to the ceiling, inspecting it with a dark leer. there was no label to it, but he didn’t need one to know that you had gone behind his back and gotten your hands on birth control pills. you must have thought you were so smart too, removing them from the awful blister-pack covers and moving them to a more inconspicuous bottle; one you had so discreetly and so tactfully hid behind all the vitamins and supplements in the cupboard.

levi contemplates smashing the glassware onto the ground in that moment, oh how satisfying it would be to see the colorless capsules splay out on the floor. but he doesn’t, because levi is nothing if not restrained. and in spite of his overwhelming rage, the wrath he is definitely going to take out on and subject you to once you return home, he finds himself feeling more… disappointed. levi disregards it as an underlying feeling of distaste to the predictable anger one would feel in such a situation, but truthfully, he’s hurt. betrayed even, surely the two of you had built enough trust by now?

after marriage, you had stopped fighting him— for the most part; the locks on your windows and doors had become far too easy to unlock, tensile with time, it was like you were practically inviting him inside! not to mention how you would be so kind as to leave portions of your meal for him whence you had left for work, and not because you didn’t have the time in your schedule to clean your plates and throw away your leftovers. and of course, perhaps the sweetest gesture of all was when you expressed your vulnerability to him, in the dead of night when no one was awake, not even yourself. had you clearly not accepted him at that point?

your good behavior earned you the privilege of levi not doing mandatory searches through your belongings anymore (with and without your knowledge, depending on your marital status). he broke you down real good, to the extent anyone could take a fleeting glance at you two and ascertain you were the perfect couple. but lying was one thing (although you weren’t necessarily lying, seeing that you’d never brought the topic to light in the first place), but secrets were another; and levi would not have those.

and so, he had benevolently set the transparent bottle back in its rightful place. levi had even take the time to precariously pose the little thing behind all of the other plastic bottles. he ultimately decided that he would dispose and deal with the pills later, something needed to come first.

“honey, i’m home!” your tone fell flat of endearing as you blocked the entryway to your beloved abode. with one hand on the wall to support your weight, and the other clutching onto the slim heel of your work appropriate pumps, you pry the shoe from your foot, and it is beyond relieving to be off the heels. it doesn’t take long for levi to make an appearance, and he’s on you in an instant, “welcome home.”

he places both of his hands on your shoulders, leading you inside. but stands still as a statue once you’re barely inside, forcing you to press against his body and lean into him to avoid getting caught by the door that you now notice he closed a little too aggressively. but you hardly have time to dwell on it when he’s touching you. he’s always touching you, his hands drop from your shoulders to your midriff, discarding your blazer, while his fingertips test the buttons on your blouse.

instinctively, you grab his wrist, but there is no feeling of pressure or tight hold, your touch is featherlight in comparison to his, “levi, i can take off my own clothes myself.” you call his name sternly, but when you meet his gaze, all the toughness in your demand is lost. and he doesn’t let go immediately, as if he wants to say something, you can tell by the way his lips press into a frown, but levi never does say anything at all. you fret you may have pushed him a bit too far this time.

“please, i’ll get undressed and we can have dinner together.” you almost desperately plead, and you hope he doesn’t hear the groveling plea to your voice. but knowing levi, he certainly does, “no.” he refuses to elaborate further, at least for an eerie ten second silence. your hand is still on his wrist, which has made no effort to halt the mission that was undoing the buttons of your shirt. and when you give him a disquieted, empty stare, he coughs with a troublesome quirk to his brow.

“i’ve started drawing a bath. i figured you may want one.” levi seems all but annoyed to have to explain himself for his erratic and explicitly uncanny behavior. speechless, or rather, uncertain of what levi wants your response to be, you slowly nod your head.

shuffling out of his grasp and towards your shared bedroom, you swiftly shut the door behind you, barely catching a glimpse of levi through the sliver before it closed; and he continued to watch you like a hawk with that unsettling glare. you don’t know why, but it makes your heart beat faster. but not because you are flustered, or because levi has done anything in particular to provoke any bashfulness from you; but because you are disturbed. you pay no heed to locking the door, seeing that all you’re doing is shedding your work clothes and changing into a bathrobe. but it still feels like levi’s eyes are on you, even if you reason that he isn’t, which you are not one hundred percent confident in your own judgment; but the sound of the washroom’s door moving, followed by footsteps, tells you all you need to know.

reluctantly, once you have donned the new and more suitable homely attire, you approach the bathroom where you see levi’s silhouette. the lightning is dim, a pleasant contrast to the sterile white walls, and the atmosphere may have subdued your nerves had it not been for the fact levi was menacingly leaning on the sink with his arms folded over his chest. he presented himself in the way he would if he were going to reprimand you for something, and it scares you that you don’t know exactly what it is.

levi impatiently outstretched his hands to your waist, taking a hold of the tie belt and pulling you towards him with it alone. you inconspicuously free yourself from his clutches, backing up until you’re adjacent to the tub’s edge, and kneeling before it. he doesn’t comment about how you’ve been avoiding his company, opting to fixate your attention on the more dull matters, such as you are now, running a tentative hand through the water to test its temperature. and it’s strange, the entire ordeal; levi is not the type to draw you baths, and when he does, he does not leave them empty with just water, he has always been overattentive, and to see no fragrances or salts in the water is becoming increasingly more concerning. you tell yourself to focus on the sound of the water, as the tub continues to fill at a steady pace, you listen to the water flow to recollect yourself.

but you were right to be paranoid all along. and levi may believe he is always right about you, but with how long you’ve spent under his watch, you find that your gut feeling is always right when it comes to him.

levi is on you in an instant, using one hand to further lift you over the ledge of the tub, and his other to seize the nape of your neck and plunge your head below the surface of the water. your eyes sting from being fully open, and you inhale a dangerous amount of water from being caught so off guard. your hands find purchase on the edge of the tub, and you push with as much strength as you can muster to hoist yourself up. but it does little for you when levi’s standing right behind you, imprisoning your body between his legs as he looms over your kneeling figure to hold your head beneath the water. he’s saying something, you hear him speaking, droning on with a passive, and sinisterly dissociative pitch to his voice. and it’s something about birth control pills, because he shouts it loud and clear, even for your clogged ears and scattered brain.

but you want to live, more than anything. so you fervently struggle against the pressure around your neck, strenuously thrashing around before you have the time to lose consciousness. the taste of the water is a horrifying afterthought when you unintentionally drink up more in your endeavor to get your head above the water. fortunately or unfortunately for you, in your current circumstances you cannot see levi, but your animalistic fight to survive and the sheer determination to defy him, yet still falling short despite your great efforts has him smiling stupidly for the second time today. and cruelly, he counts. torturously, agonizingly, fifteen tediously drawn out seconds. and when he rings you out, panting and gasping as a disgusting concoction of your saliva and water drain from your esophagus.

you sharply turn around, hacking and coughing the entire way as your arms shakily support your weight before falling onto the damp bathroom rug. with your back colliding painfully against the hard edge of the tub, you slip further onto the ground, neck just barely propped up on the corner of the tub. you rub a consoling hand over your throat, and the throbbing ache won’t go away. every time you suck in a breath of cold air, it stings, and you can feel it all the way down to your trachea. vision impaired, you blink away the film of water that gathered in a glaze over your eyes, but your sight remains blurred.

levi peers down at you with a look of adoration and irritation, and you’re jolted awake, reimmersed back into reality when the sound of the bathroom door lock clicking shut resounds throughout the compact and confined room. you reach out a bleak hand, arms fatigued from your fruitless exertion. and although it is not your intention, levi catches your stray hand in his, stepping forward until he’s hovering over you, overshadowing you entirely, “no, stop it, levi—”

the soldiers of the survey corps are only granted leave twice a year: upon receiving ghastly injuries that render them ‘unfit,’ for work, and for the winter holidays. thankfully, today it is the latter. although the official holiday leave allegedly begins today, many — if not all — of the scouts made off the day prior. which you had so graciously allowed, seeing that you didn’t rule the corps with an iron fist; unlike your predecessor who you vaguely remembered writing up those who had fled from the headquarters at 23:59 on the eve of last year.

your comrades in arms were grateful, and those who did not run off the moment you informed them they could leave early were kind enough to bid you farewell and send their warmest wishes. the only requirement you listed was that the cadets clean their areas and barracks before they go, as soldiers were notorious for taking more than a mere few days off. and you’d rather them not return to find rats and roaches in their living quarters. and thus, the scouts could be seen preening and polishing the survey corps’ base throughout the day, up until evening, but the majority of them had left around the afternoon (which made you question how thorough they were).

only the ranked officials and a handful of your squadron had actually departed on the day of, but only because they had paperwork to complete before they could go. all of whom had given their last wishes to you intimately, one at a time. expectedly, the first to greet and first to say goodbye was erwin, who awoke promptly at the crack of dawn to knock on your office door. your section commander had turned in his neatly stacked pile of documents, and a wine bottle with ribbon around the neck (poorly tied, but you could only assume how long it had taken him to get the singular bow to sit correctly with how wrinkled it was, and imagining him re-tying it with a frustrated look brought a smile to your face). you thanked him, and told him to, “not bring alcohol into your office during working hours in the future,” but he was out the door before you could even finish your sentence.

less than a minute later, a far too lively hange opened, no, slammed, your door open. they were already rambling before they could step foot into the perimeters of your office, and you interrupted them to scold their loud tone and impertinent salutations. hange had apologized, waving their hand dismissively, excusing it with a, “there’s nobody in the damn building anyway!” as they dropped their papers — which appeared to be suspiciously bigger than the amount you had assigned them — on your desk, creating a loud thud once settled, and you swore you heard the wood crack. hange had read you like a book, because they quickly defended that they were also delivering moblit’s work, thus why they had such an ungodly amount of files, and not because they babbled and rambled in their notes.

unlike erwin, it seemed hange wanted to do anything but leave, chatting you up with all their newly found research and information on langnar’s journal. and eventually when you ushered them out under the pretense you were required to sift through all of their’s and the other captain’s and vice captain’s paperwork by midnight (which you were), they finally left. but they returned two seconds after the fact, apologizing profusely and throwing an assortment of small gift-wrapped objects at you, then hurriedly rushing out the door and slamming it shut, just as you instructed them not to.

when the sun had finally risen, there was another knock on your door. you had known it was mike when there was a long pause after the knock, and not the typical automated ‘commander, it’s cadet so-and-so,’ and the only form of acknowledgement you had gotten from him after permitting his entry was a subtle nod. mike was thoughtful enough to clip his papers together, setting them aside from erwin’s and hange’s onto what little open space was left on your overcrowded desk. however, the wine bottle caught his attention; it had been pushed to the corner, and he saved it from potentially falling, picking it up with both hands and inspecting it with a sniff. shaking your head with a disappointed sigh, you had asked if he wanted it, muttering something along the lines of how you didn’t drink, and erwin knew that very well. but mike set the bottle down at the center of the desk, responding with a simple, “but levi does.” you dismissed him after that comment, but gave him an honest and genuine goodbye.

as the day dragged on, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. it was empty, and rightfully so, as you knew this may be the only day happy families could rejoice with their loved ones, reunited after months away before they return scornfully to their duty on the battlefield. perhaps if you cared more, you would have gone home like the rest of the soldiers; but the pursuit for your own life, and needs, and wants, and worldly desires has led you here. back to your office chair, the one you sit at for hours a day so you can placate the curiosity that has since been ignited by the anomalies and inconsistencies in (what is left of) humanity’s history. sometimes, you question if this valiant effort is worth it, it’s been years with little payoff, and you’re starting to think that—

“fuck, is it cold out there.” your head snapped up at the voice, and you see levi standing in the doorway. you don’t recall hearing the sound of the door opening, considering it was quite infamous for creaking anytime someone had so much as breathed near it. his hands are full, papers and all, but a tiny yet neatly sheathed package sat atop of the reports, a pretty ribbon and all to complete it. you catch yourself grinning, which you excuse as being happy that levi has finally turned in his work and not because he’s actually here, and a frown quickly settles onto your lips, “don’t curse, you know i don’t like it.”

he shoots you a look, raising a brow as kicks the door shut with the slight nudge of his boot, “really? because last night, i’m pretty sure you were the one cursing.” levi stops in front of your desk, unbothered by the clutter, and your stare blankly as he sets his paperwork on the empty spot you had just cleared, “screaming, ‘oh my fucking god, levi—”

“okay, enough. and i don’t sound like that.” you critique his voice pitch and horrendous imitation of you, mainly to preserve your dignity and pride, and to stop the heat you felt rise to your cheeks. you placed both of your hands flat on the edge of your desk, pushing yourself backwards in your chair, but with no effort to sit up, you let your head fall back. staring intensely at the ceiling felt much better on your eyes than reading over ink writings, some unintelligible, others with atrocious handwriting, and all too tiresome.

your eyes drop to levi, who has his arms crossed, as if waiting for you to acknowledge his presence, he huffs when you two finally make eye contact, “where have you been all day?” you can’t help but be curious, standing to retrieve the present on top of his paperwork-pile, and sitting back down, “busy. why? did you miss me?” you bite back a scoff.

“hardly, it’s just… odd that you weren’t around.” the box is light in weight and small in size, fitting nicely in the palm of your hand. without moving your head, your eyes wander towards levi, who is already looking at you, urging you to open the gift with the swift motion of his hand.

you must admit his wrapping skills are unmatched to all the presents you received for this year’s annual winter holiday. including the ones that had been shoved into your mail, all of which had difficulty fitting into the thin slot, cascading onto the floor and taking up an outrageous amount of space. most of them had been from the cadets before they left, and the rest were letters from the government, pestering you about legal papers and official business. but levi’s gift was darling, and the bow was certainly tied much better than erwin’s, even if that wasn’t saying much. tugging lightly at the end of the ribbon, and it falls apart in your grasp along with the wrapping paper. the naked box is black in color, and smooth to the touch, so you are careful to slide the lid without denting the box with your nails.

upon opening it, the glint of a jewel catches your eyes. parting your lips with an impressed gasp, you hook your hand under a silver chain, retrieving the necklace from its confines, “do you like it?” of course you do, it is undeniably beautiful. you unclasp the necklace, bringing it up to you and wrapping it around your neck. levi takes long strides to help you re-clasp it, placing his hands over yours and moving your hair aside, fidgeting until it clicks, “yes, it’s very lovely. thank you.”

you hold the centerpiece of the necklace in your hand, eyeing it carefully. the embellishment is the same one that belongs to the center stone on your engagement ring, that is why it’s so awfully familiar. it comes as a mystery to you as to when levi had time to go and buy it, especially when he’s practically glued to your side all day long. it only sinks in now that you hadn’t bothered to get him anything, not that you particularly owed him anything; not when levi decides he’ll take from you whenever he pleases. you feel guilty, even though you shouldn’t, you do. and it doesn’t help your regretful conscience when levi presses a chaste, but sweet, kiss to the crown of your head.

“i never did get you anything. did you… did you want anything for your birthday?” you hesitantly query, almost like it pained you to ask in the first place; because it does. you can only bend your will so much, after all, “marriage.”

eyes wide with surprise, you shut your eyes with a grimace, “can’t you request something more reasonable? we only have a day off, and it’s what?” you raise your head and take a glance towards the window, and a blend of bright orange and yellow hues can be seen illuminating the stuffy room, “late in the evening? the registrar’s office is likely closed by now, if not closing as we speak.” turning your head to face levi, you gauge his reaction, which isn’t immediate, but he seems almost too calm to a response he would otherwise argue with you for hours on end about.

“i went earlier, they don’t close until midnight,” reaching into the pocket of his green long coat (which he hadn’t bothered to take off due to the ill-suited weather), he retrieved a scroll tied with a single red string. he held it out for you to take, and you apprehensively take it, unfurling the paper. the first thing you see is the big bold letters that read, certificate of marriage, you don’t bother looking at the rest, “i filled everything in for you, all you need to do is sign it, and we’ll go before the day ends.”

it was uncomfortable, laying in the same stiff position for the better part of what should have been a good night’s rest. and although you were no stranger to the current predicament you had the grand misfortune of landing yourself in, it seemed as though you could never quite get used to it. it was 22:00 exactly, not that time particularly mattered, nor meant anything in the underground. however, the only reason you’re even aware of the time is because you have an unwelcome guest that happens to appear at this time every evening just like clockwork.

it shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does, you’re surely no stranger to these midnight rendezvous, especially since they have picked up in frequency. but it is a little surprising how he is always able to break-in, without a trace no less.

with shallow, low breaths, you hold back an irritated sigh with gritted teeth as you hear the sound of wooden chair legs scraping across your floorboards, followed by faint footsteps. you don’t have to open your eyes to know that he is at your bedside, you feel his overbearing presence looming over your still figure. fighting the urge to face him, to sit upright, to strike him, to bolt out of your room, to do anything, you simply lay in the same position you’ve held for the past few hours.

he’s almost amused watching you try and hold yourself together. you can tell by the silent though arrogant exhale he lets out, one that you’ve heard far too many times for your liking. usually he’s content to just watch you sleep, but tonight he’s feeling greedy— or rather, entitled. and as if watching you feign unconsciousness wasn’t already frightening enough, you’re afraid of what he means by, “perhaps he was being too generous, too lenient with you.”

apprehensively, you open your eyes, letting your vision temporarily rest on the familiar ceiling before flickering nervously towards the man standing at your bedside. your eyes widen with alarm as you see him thoughtlessly toy with the buttons on his white collared shirt, and his dark vest nowhere in sight, likely already discarded from his figure, the blouse following suit mere moments later. finding enough strength to move your upper body, you make an effort to lift yourself up. but he halts, setting a deceivingly gentle hand flat against your chest, just beneath your collarbones, and he takes pleasure in feeling your warm body (which highly contrasts his icy temperature), leisurely spreading his fingers out over the surface of your skin.

“no.” his voice is stern, and he holds brief eye contact with you before harshly pressing you back down. gasping softly, it knocks the air out of you with minimal effort on his part.

your head falls back onto your pillow, which thankfully cushions you from the unnecessary force behind his hand— which has yet to leave your chest. the feeling of momentary disorientation passes in an instant when the bed dips under his weight, and he situates himself between your legs. in protest, you reach out a hand and plant it firmly on his shoulder in an attempt to push him away, but he retracts the hand that was previously on your chest and slaps your own off his shoulder. frowning at the blatant reminder of your strength difference, you part your lips to snap at him.

“levi, i’m not your whore.” the tremor in your voice betrays the anger you wish to portray, brittle and weak in the face of your most bothersome nuisance. there is a change in levi’s expression, one that you are unable to read. even as his eyes, for only a second, drop down to your thighs, his gaze is returned to yours immediately, and this time, he has this look to him. the subtle movement of his lips captures your attention, as if biting back a cruel smile. but his eyes do not crease, not in the slightest, in fact, they’re even bigger than before. it is a jarring sight, and you know he won’t be kind.

“no, no you’re not. you’re not a whore at all, at least not anymore, thanks to me. but you would be if that’s what i wanted, my whore and mine alone.” his free hand slithers down in between your thighs, hooking a finger under the waistband of your panties and catching the fabric between the pads of his fingers, mockingly, almost playfully, before aggressively pulling them down. levi crawls over you, leaning forward with all his weight until your legs are forcibly locked in a position that has your thighs straddling his waist. he presses the two digits in your mouth flat against your tongue with such pressure, you’re almost certain he’ll cause your whole head to fall slack along with your jaw. and when you feel that you’re just about to choke on all the saliva that has excessively pooled in your mouth, he captures your tongue in between his index and middle finger, trapping it in a pinch as levi maliciously squeezes his fingers together around your tongue.

had it not been for the fact that your ears were ringing, and it had become increasingly harder for you to breathe, you would have heard levi exhale. slow and euphoric, a silent but airy sigh. and although his lips were pressed into a thin line, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration, and his entire body taut and tense, it seemed he was unable to hide the excitement that was so clear and so evident in his eyes, not to mention the flush of his otherwise pale skin.

retrieving his fingers from your mouth, he had made no comment about the mess you had made on his fingers, a thick coating of saliva on his fingers that had already started dripping onto the rest of his hand. and in one swift motion, levi forced his fingers into your entrance. gasping at the sudden intrusion, you stifle a pained moan, unable to help as your back arches when he vigorously pumps his fingers into your wet folds. instinctively, you thrash about, writhing as he worked his slender fingers deeper into your tight cunt. levi’s eyes were glued to your pussy, now drenched with a mix of your saliva and arousal, mesmerized by the way you sucked his fingers back in.

“w-wait stop, levi…” your breath hitches, hand aimlessly grasping in his direction in a pathetic attempt to maintain your dignity, although you’re unable to hold onto anything. levi picks up the pace, feverishly, desperately fucking his fingers into you, “quiet.”

even as he relentlessly plunged his fingers inside your abused cunt, curling and dragging them against your velvet walls, it’s the sudden pressure of one of his digits circling your clit that sends you over the edge. tossing your head back with your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, you come undone on his fingers with a choked out moan. panting and heaving, your eyes threaten to close from exhaustion, both from physical and mental fatigue. but in your delirious state, you’re none the wiser to notice levi unbuckling his pants and lining up with your entrance.

parting your legs further, he forces his way into your cunt with one sharp thrust, and you can feel the pressure in the back of your throat, “you feel so fucking good,” levi groans, moving his hand to grab the underside of your knee, supporting your leg before pushing it backward until it could easily sit over his shoulder so he could reach deeper into your pussy.

you squirm and convulse as your body becomes painfully aware of the way his cock fills up every last inch of your cunt, causing you to lift your back off the bed with every fervent thrust. but there is something about seeing you pinned helplessly beneath him that he so passionately craves, even mistaking you arching your back as an attempt to escape your rightful place, so levi slams his body down onto yours. the collision leaves you stunned and breathless, inhaling sharply to the point your lungs ache. chest to chest, neck to neck, and face to face, the tip of levi’s nose is only a breath away from touching yours, and his eyes are so close to your own, they are all you can see. perhaps if he weren’t utterly unhinged, you would have found them beautiful— would have enjoyed the feeling of his dainty eyelashes on your skin, would have thought his slate grey eyes to be rather lovely. but they are not, for they belong to your ex-client who has done nothing but brought you misery and suffering, all at his hands.

the way levi’s cock grazes over your most sensitive spot with every snap of his hips has you fighting for consciousness, and you ignore how he roughly presses his lips against yours. though you don’t offer any assistance by keeping your mouth shut, he coaxes you into giving in by biting your bottom lip, causing you to gasp at the sudden nip. levi kisses you in the only way he knows how, with his tongue and all of his teeth. he is suffocating; his dick so heavy and deep inside you that you’ve no choice but to take it, with all of his weight effortlessly forcing you to remain below him, and his tongue shoved so far down your throat that you’re gasping for air.

and despite the fact that he is so brutal and so mean, he is so loving. levi’s hand searches for yours, his fingernails frantically clawing up your wrist, then to your palm, and before time can pass, his hand finds itself holding yours; intertwining your fingers and locking them together, almost as if to say ‘sorry’ for smacking yours away earlier. levi was insistent on keeping his eyes locked onto you, otherwise he would have found your hand with ease, and you’re scared to open your eyes any further, knowing that his will be just close enough to nearly touch yours. but his hold on your hand is tight, so tight that it hurts, and you’re unable to think of anything else. levi’s thrusts never stop in their intensity, but they do get sloppier. your walls squeeze around him so nicely, milking him for all he’s worth. and it’s when the vice-like grip you have on him gets impossibly tighter, he knows.

“do it, come now,” levi’s eyes snap open with disturbing speed, and it’s almost as if he were glaring down at you with hate when he told you to, ordered you to.

but you’ve reached your limit, and with a high-pitched whine, you cum on his cock. it’s only after you climax that he pushes as far as he can inside you, letting go of your leg and slamming the palm of his now free hand flat onto the mattress right beside your head to brace himself as he spills all his cum deep inside your cunt. the feeling of his sticky load filling your insides to the brim is an uncomfortable one; it leaves your skin burning hot, and you’re absolutely done for, and he knows.

it is awfully quiet with you and him. silent even, and perhaps you would have presumed you had finally been let go of and given up, if it weren’t for the feeling of his hungry touch hot on your skin. your eyes remained open, even if there wasn’t anything for you to see; just empty space, an endless nothingness. it doesn’t quite calm you like it once had, you always used to prefer it over his company. it doesn’t anger you as it would have in the past, to be left alone that is, your wrath has long died out anyway. it doesn’t even make you nervous, fearful; it doesn’t make you feel anything, that is what truly scares you. and you understand it now, it seems the only one who had given up— was you.

but the feeling of the gentle, though firm bindings of thick rope that bend and curve around your body in the nicest, prettiest ways keep you from completely dissociating. from not thinking, not thinking of anything but him.

levi had spent an unsettlingly thorough, and meticulous time tying you up. and if you hadn’t known any better, you would daresay he even struggled to do so. if there is one truth about levi’s love for you, it is that he certainly enjoys taking his time with you, in every way, but you are no stranger to being forcefully and willingly chained by him, and it has never taken him this painstakingly long. a part of you wonders if he had done it on purpose, how cruel that would be, to let his hands linger dreadfully slow on your body, lithe fingers leaving phantom touches where the ropes just barely meet your fragile flesh. it isn’t as if he needs to use psychological torture on you, at least not anymore, but levi is not above playing with you, it is his favorite pastime after all.

you had heard him sigh, heard him smile, when he leisurely, near reluctantly pulled his hands away from your naked figure. as if to admire his work well done, there was but a short-lived moment of being unrestrained, if not by the constricting binds, by levi’s touch, by him. but he was still so close, his shallow breaths lightly tickled the skin on your face, and the warmth emanating from his body felt undeniably good on your bare form. you may have even craved his embrace if it weren’t for it being levi of all men. he abruptly settles his hands on your hips, and it startles you, but it isn’t his skin on yours that does so, it is how tender he is being with you. levi strokes mindless, soothing circles on the delicate fat of your hips with his thumb, a distant expression plastered to his face.

to anyone else, he may have appeared bored, but if anything, levi is absolutely enamored by your vulnerability in his presence; he is as focused as ever, “the war is over.” his hands tentatively run up the sides of your body, ascending from your hips to your abdomen— and even as he frequently encountered the ropes while working his way upyour body, he still ensured his hold on you, and you felt the pressure of cord’s restrictions increase under the weight of his fingers.

“they are calling it, the battle of heaven and earth.” levi slides his hands up against your rib cage, and your breath hitches when you feel the touch of his fingers cupping the underside of your chest. his thumbs only just come to rest on your breasts, narrowly avoiding your sensitive nipples, “the survey corps has disbanded, all of the military regiments have.”

levi suddenly envelops you into his arms, encasing you in a suffocating hug, as if he were trying to smother you. with one harsh tug, he jerks your entire body forward, and you are no longer sitting on the hard wooden surface that you now believe was a desk, but something cushy. your legs adjust over what feels to be the armrests of a chair, promptly spreading your legs to accommodate the body that has been trapped in between them. the uncomfortable squirming has you fighting to maintain your balance, but levi doesn’t allow you to lean back too far, not with the clutch he has on you. you’re breathless, huffing and puffing, and he lets you do all the work, lets you tire yourself out because levi knows once he does, you won’t say no to his touch, to him.

“i went to visit erwin and hange when i came back to get you.” of course it was foolish of you to think he had forgotten about you, but you wish he had. levi props you up, straightening your posture atop his lap, and a ghost of a smile reaches his lips when he realizes you’ve finally gone limp in his grasp, “those two kids from the war helped me unload all of your stuff.” and then you feel his fingers untie the cloth around your eyes, letting it fall to the floor.

it’s brutal the way the light utterly overwhelms your vision, it causes you to squint your eyes until you’re unable to see anything at all. levi is patient, granting you the much needed time for your eyes to adapt to the change in brightness and added scenery. with your head motionlessly still, you only move your eyes, and the first thing you look at once you’ve regained your sight is your surroundings. the inside of a house, cozy in nature, and well furnished and decorated as if it had been well lived in for years. there was a solace to the otherwise unfamiliar ambience, and it had felt… domestic, and that thought alone unnerved you to no end. but what was more unnerving, was the framed portrait— no, photograph (as the other side of the world had called it), of you.

disheveled in formal attire and unconscious, you recall this memory. it had been during the scouts’ undercover excursion to marley, when the 14th commander, the special operation’s captain and his squad, tour guide extraordinaire onyankopon, and yourself ventured into uncharted land that you all hadn’t believed to exist for the past century. after the curt though crucial meeting with lady azumabito, and the mess that was hauling a handful of inebriated young soldiers back to the hotel, you were looking forward to getting some rest. but not without levi offering you a glass of wine. in hindsight, you surmise this is where your relationship with the man had gone to absolute shit, or maybe it had always been this way, and you simply didn’t pay enough attention to him to notice until it was too late. well you most certainly pay him enough attention now, so what does it matter? at the time, the alarm bells in your head weren’t ringing, they weren’t even going off; you were exhausted, and who were you to deny a kind drink that you now realize had no clue where it had come from. when you awoke on the following day, you presumed you must have discarded your clothes while drunk, but seeing this photo makes you certain that levi took them off.

you stop thinking when levi grabs your face. you can feel each of his hands on either side of your face, his left one only a little higher than the other, with his thumb dangerously close to the corner of your eye; and his right one, with what you now determine has two missing fingers, cupping your jawline. ever so slightly, he tilts your head down to look at him. and for the first time, you see his injuries. his eye, his face, his hand, he is incomplete. but it isn’t enough to make you feel marginally better in the slightest, not when levi stares at you like he can’t believe you're real, like he can’t believe that you are here, that this is something he, admittedly, wanted to do forever— or at least since meeting you, since wanting you. but he had far too many responsibilities and the burden of being ‘humanity’s strongest soldier.’ but now he is just levi ackerman, and he can live how he has always wanted to, with you, somewhere that is only with you.

“we have a home together now.” with only a touch of added force, levi brings your forehead to rest against his. it is an intimate gesture, and for some reason, it feels more intimate than being naked and bare before him in such a degrading way. he hums, and it almost comes out like a purr, “we share a last name together now.” your eyes widen, and you study his face to see if he was only jesting, but there is nothing. and what concerns you even more is that you feel nothing, you don’t give into his wants, but you don’t give into yours either— or what used to be, the desperation for freedom.