#levinsfw25

Levi restrains himself — and he’s been doing it for weeks now. Convincing himself he doesn’t want kids. He never did, not really.

Of course, he’d never admit that something changed. That the day he saw you cradling your friend’s newborn, he didn’t just see you. He saw a mother, you as a mother, for the first time in his life. The little one clinging to you without hesitation, he had to look away.

That’s all it took.

Since then, the thoughts creep in at the worst times. Unwanted. Insatiable. Impossible to ignore. He forces himself not to picture it, not to imagine you with his child. The way you’d look, how you’d sound. No, he can’t let himself go there.

And yet it’s always there. Haunting him while he talks to you, gnawing at the back of his mind. Having to pull out when he’s with you, wasting it in his hand when he sometimes indulges himself alone. Such a waste. So much waste. The thought alone feels so painful.

He keeps trying to bring it up, he wants to, but he doesn’t know how. The words are always right there, sitting on his tongue. But then he sees you—your expectant eyes, bright after days without seeing him. And the words vanish, swallowed back down.

He can’t say it. What would you think of him? You’d hate him for being so selfish, for even daring thinking about it. You’ve never mentioned wanting a baby. And yet, the way you looked—so infuriatingly good and comfortable with that tiny bundle cradled in your arms.

And if you said no… if you looked at him differently after that… He doesn’t know what he’d do.

And now, as he’s lost in those thoughts again, something snaps him back — a voice outside. A man’s voice. Who the fuck is that?

When he recognizes the neighbor flirting with you on your very doorstep, Levi snaps. That’s what he feared. He’s not here enough, not enough at all, people keep thinking you’re single. But can he blame them? You’re alone in this house most of the time without any news from him.

Would anyone believe you if you told them your partner was in the Survey Corps? No woman would endure this—waiting, wondering when he’d come back. Nobody in their right mind would choose this. Let alone want to have his children.

Still, he snaps nonetheless.

He’s usually a patient man. Jealousy isn’t something that shows on him—until now. He appears behind you in an instant, silent and unreadable, his gaze fixed coldly on the other man.

"This is my wife," he states, calm on the surface, though his body is tense. One arm slides around your waist, hand splaying low over your stomach in a possessive gesture.

The words surprise you, but it’s the hand that makes your breath catch. Your fingers move on instinct, slipping over his.

Technically, it isn’t a lie. You promised yourselves to each other. The wedding just can’t happen yet.

"Your wife?" the man echoes, incredulous. His gaze flicks to your hand. "I don’t see a ring on her fin—"

"And she’s pregnant."

Levi cuts him off with quiet force. The words leave no room for doubt. No hesitation. "How disgusting of you to hit on a woman in her condition."

Oh?

Your eyes widen and you nearly choke. Here was another lie, and not a small one. What the hell got into him? Still, your confusion doesn’t last long. With barely a pause, you nod calmly, backing him up without question.

Because of course you do. You’ll always stand with him, at least in front of others. The scolding can wait until later.

The man is clearly embarrassed now, mumbling something that’s lost to you. But it doesn’t matter, Levi’s already shutting the door in his face. He would’ve made him apologize properly if he could have spared the time. But he has something much more urgent to deal with.

That nod you gave him didn’t go unnoticed. It’s all he can think about now.

You spin to face him immediately. "Can I ask what the hell that was?"

He meets your gaze without flinching, he can’t back down now.

Despite your best efforts to look serious, there’s a glimmer in your eye. You’re more amused than annoyed.

"You look adorable," he can’t help himself saying, mostly to himself, his eyes lingering on your half-shocked expression, the flush rising to your cheeks. Embarrassment… or something else? Maybe it affected you more than you’re letting on.

Maybe you liked hearing it, just as much as he liked saying it.

Maybe he should thank the neighbor.

"I’m not preg—"

The protest dies on your tongue as his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

"Shh," Levi whispers. His thumb slips just past your lips, and you welcome it without hesitation, lips parting easily, tongue flicking against his skin.

You’re not sure what took over him, what possessed him to lie so blatantly and what’s suddenly gotten him so riled up.

Well… maybe you do have an idea, you’re not completely clueless. But still—kids, seriously? Where does this idea come from? It’s not something you ever expected from him. But you’re definitely not complaining. So you play along, mouth closing around his finger as your eyes hold his, coy but defiant.

"Maybe he’s still listening," Levi says, his voice lower now, walking you back gently until your spine hits the door. The same door your neighbor stood behind just seconds ago.

"Didn’t know you get jealous," you mumble around his finger.

He just smiles and leans closer to kiss the under of your jaw, his free hand cradling your cheek.

"You liked that?" He purrs, his voice gone husky. "Me saying you’re carrying my kid?"

You’re caught off guard by the heat behind his words, a small, muffled moan slipping out when you feel his thigh pressing between your legs.

"That’s right," he hums, clearly appreciating your reaction. He’s still waiting for your answer. Please say yes, please say yes. Hoping with every fiber of his being that he’s not imagining things—that you’re into this as much as he is.

Levi pulls out his thumb already slick with your saliva, and drags that same hand lower, slipping beneath your top. His fingers slide over your bare skin, until his thumb grazes over your nipple through your bra.

You gasp. Your head drops to his shoulder, already nodding. It was easy, so easy for him to coax every kind of sound from your lips, to make you say exactly what he wants, to plant ideas in your head when you’re already gone in pleasure.

"I guess I’ll have to make sure that happens," he whispers into the crook of your neck.

Your arms wind around his neck, fingers tugging loosely in his hair, urging him closer. He grinds you up against the door, his movements full of pent-up frustration from weeks of longing, of imagination, of waiting.

He aches for this—for the life you could have together, for the future he wants to give you but doesn’t know how to ask for.

He fumbles with the button of your pants, urgently slipping his hand inside, beneath your underwear. His fingers find the heat, the slickness between your thighs, and his breath catches. Your lips part with a broken sound—it’s so much and not enough at the same time. Your hips already arching towards his hand and he lets you grind on him like that for a moment.

"You’d let me, wouldn’t you?" he breathes. "You want it too, don’t you, love?"

"Yes— Please—" you gasp.

You’re both breathing hard now, his hot breath fanning over your already burning skin.

His cock strains painfully against the fabric of his pants. He can’t take it anymore.

He pulls his hand away from between your legs, and you barely have time to whimper at the loss before his hands are on your thighs, lifting you in one, effortless motion.

Levi carries you off the door, toward the bedroom, like you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, and his lips find yours—crash into yours. Kissing like you can’t stop. Your head is already spinning. Your fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt, desperate.

His lips never leave yours, even as he walks, stumbling slightly with the way your hips rock against his.

The bedroom door is barely open when your back hits the mattress. Clothes fall in a messy trail on the floor—his shirt, your top, your bra, his pants, yours.

By the time he gets his underwear down, he’s already leaking. The thick, pink tip flushed a pretty shade of red from all the friction.

You lick your lips, eyes dragging slowly up to his face. You look at him through your lashes—his eyes blown wide with lust and want, chest rising and falling like he can’t catch his breath.

You can see how desperate he is. You’ve never seen him like this. Never seen him so beautiful. So open. So… gone.

Levi’s already kneeling between your legs, settling at your entrance—your bare, exposed slick skin, wetness glistening on your inner thighs.

He pushes in without waiting any longer, just a little—enough for both of you to feel the stretch. Entering you slowly because the moment is thick with need but heavy with emotion. Your walls flutter around him, a breathy whimper leaving your lips as your hips twitch up to meet his.

You’re so warm, so tight around him and he knows he’d never leave you if he had the choice.

He leans over you, his weight crashes into you deliciously as he sinks deeper, sheathing himself fully inside you.

He’s so warm too, the heat of his skin, the solid weight of his body above yours, the feel of him stretching you—filling you perfectly. Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, grounding yourself. And you feel so safe, so full. So impossibly safe with him covering you like this, bracing himself with one hand beside your head, his breath in your neck.

"Levi—fuck, you feel so good," you breathe, barely able to get the words out between whimpers.

He draws back, barely pulling out before pushing back in with a soft groan. He kisses your jaw, your cheek, your temple, each word falling between kisses:

"I’m not here enough, I know. I should… fuck— I’m sorry, I’m sorry I should’ve put a ring on your finger the moment I met you—"

And every word is punctuated by the roll of his hips, by the sound of your moans, by your hands clutching at him.

He knows he leaves you alone way too often, but he always makes up to you, always. He would—he will. He will figure it out, be better for you, find a way, keep you safe. Because you’re all he wants, you’re everything.

"It’s okay," you manage to mumble, despite your clouded brain. Your heart swelling with love, you want to reassure him that he’s enough. "I know you love me."

"I do," he whispers earnestly, kissing the corner of your lips as he picks up the pace. "I love you so much."

His gentle rhythm shifts into something more urgent, pulling you deeper, faster. Your hips keep tilting up, greedy for more, breath fanning over each other, mingling with your shared needy sounds.

"I thought about it too much, didn’t know how to tell you," he admits, whispering right against your lips, swallowing your moans. "About putting a baby in you."

Your whole body tightens around him at his words, squeezing him deeper without meaning to. He groans, voice cracking. His thrusts falter for half a second.

"Fuck—" he gasps. "You better stop squeezing me like that." His forehead falls to your shoulder.

A breathless laugh escapes your lips. "M’sorry, it’s just—so good, so deep."

"Not unless you want—fuck, unless you need me to fuck a baby inside you?"

He pulls back slightly, supporting his weight with one forearm, his gaze dropping between your bodies where you’re connected—his cock disappearing into you, coated in your both arousal, then back up to your face. Your half lidded, glassy eyes staring back at him.

His free hand slides down over your stomach, palming it firm yet tender, while he keeps thrusting into you, hips rolling in a relentless rhythm.

"Right there," he murmurs.

You always look so hot, so perfect with his length tucked deep inside you, it’s hard not to imagine how beautiful you would look if he put a baby in there. "Look at you. You’d look so beautiful, love."

You can’t help it, your thighs squeeze around him, drawing him even deeper. The way he’s talking—praising you, claiming you, telling you all the things you didn’t know you needed to hear. The coil inside you tightens, you want everything he’s willing to give you.

"Can’t stop—fuck, can’t stop thinking about it—about you, about us." He’s already back down on top of you, panting into your mouth, kisses all messy. Each thrust dragging along the most sensitive parts inside you.

Your fingers dig into his back, nails leaving faint red marks as he presses you down more and more into the mattress, his hips grinding, the head of his cock kissing your cervix deliciously with every stroke.

It’s too much—you’re close, so close. His words, his skilled movements—worshiping you so well it feels like he’s begging you without saying the words. The intensity of it pushes you higher, drawing you closer to the edge. Your body tense and you’re forced to pull away from the kiss, lips parting in soft, desperate wails of his name.

A strangled groan of pleasure leaves his lips when you squeeze him impossibly tighter. He lets his full weight melt into you. Each time he pulls out, you hear the obscene squelch of your arousal mixing with his as he fucks you through the spasms of your orgasm.

Boneless and dazed, you barely have enough sense to feel him shudder above you, getting close. Instinctively, your trembling thighs lock around him, caging him inside.

You’re whimpering, pleading him against your better judgment, voice all breathy and wrecked.

"L-Levi—don’t pull out."

You’re not thinking straight, you can’t think straight when he’s winding you up like that, rewinding your mind in pleasure.

He groans, eyes snapping wide open, staring at you like it’s everything he ever wanted to hear.

"Don’t—don’t say that," he rasps. "Don’t tease."

"I'm not—I won’t take it back. Please Levi, I need it, need you, want it so bad—"

He shushes you with a kiss as if he can’t bear to hear more of your begging. His twitching cock drags sloppily over every fluttering, oversensitive spot inside you—it’s almost too much.

"I’ll give it to you," he promises, words stumbling from his mouth in an unsteady mess. "I’ll give you all of it. Everything you need, I promise—"

He’s babbling now, barely holding it together as he comes undone inside you, burying himself deeper with a groan. You cry out when you feel his thick, warm rush of him spilling deep inside you, filling you.

His forehead is damp, black strands of hair sticking to his skin. The sweat of his temple drips onto your face, his breath is ragged and hot.

And you’re clinging to him in return. He doesn’t pull out right away—staying inside you, still throbbing, pulsing inside you. One of his hand rests on your stomach, fingers splayed wide over your smooth skin like he can’t stop thinking about it.

And you can tell he’s thinking, ruminating.

So you run your fingers through the damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss before his thoughts carry him too far. It’s slow, lips dragging lazily as you’re both catching your breath. His chest now pressed against yours, both of your hearts racing.

And you know you’ll have to talk about it—really talk about it.

But not right now.

That’s a conversation for another time. When you’re not breathless and bare. When his duty won’t call him away at dawn.

For now, you just hold him close.

Levi sat stiffly—no, regally—behind the new desk in his office. The card beside the door outside now displayed in small, unassuming letters, as if embarrassed by its own novelty: Captain Levi. The office itself was simple but respectable, filled with solid, serious furniture. A tidy stack of reports rested at his left hand, a steaming cup of black tea to his right. No frivolous nonsense. Everything was meticulously arranged. Until you came along.

You had strolled in about ten minutes ago, arms crossed and wearing the world’s most irritatingly patient smile. And you’d said, “You know, captain, normal people celebrate promotions with something stronger than tea.”

Something about the way you’d drawled his title aloud like that sent a shiver down his spine. But Levi prided himself on being a man of immense self-control. “Normal people,” he said, his voice dry enough to soak up a flood, “are idiots.”

Undeterred, you shut the door and leaned over his desk like a particularly insolent cat. “Captain Levi, sir. I just want to say what an absolute honor it is to serve under you.”

Levi blinked and glanced up at you suspiciously. “No.”

“No?” you repeated innocently. “Wouldn’t you like that, sir. Me under you?”

“Cut it out,” he muttered, flipping the next page in his report—a poor disguise for the slow-burning heat pooling somewhere low in his chest.

“Cut what out?” you asked, fingers drumming lightly along the edge of his desk. “I’m just respecting your new authority, captain.”

You put a particularly venomous sweetness on the word once again, daring him to react. Levi slid his eyes up to your face, to that maddeningly smug curve of your mouth, the way you were leaning too far over his desk, too close to his center of calm.

“You’re bothering me,” he said flatly.

“You love it,” you said back, too quick.

That earned you a glare. His gaze dragged over your face, your lips, the line of your neck. You met his eyes, still grinning like you’d already won whatever game you were playing. He stood smoothly and leaned forward to meet you in the middle.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

He was close now, and your smirk flickered for just a second. You straightened a little as he stepped around the desk, turning to watch his movements, and your breath caught when he stopped in front of you. He didn’t touch you—not yet.

“I think,” Levi said, his voice like gravel, “you’ve got no idea what you’re asking for.”

“Try me,” you whispered.

That was all the invitation he needed. In one fluid motion, he backed you into the edge of the desk, and his hands gripped your hips with bruising precision as he lifted you onto the table. Your gasp was lost to his lips crashing into yours, rough and claiming. Papers scattered. Pens clattered to the floor. His tea nearly tipped over.

Levi shoved himself snugly between your thighs. He kissed you with harsh teeth, tongue filling your mouth. He knew you were trying to rile him, and he was giving you what you wanted. You were redolent with the familiar sweetness of your skin, piquant beneath the aroma of cleanness and cheap soap. Levi breathed it in as you whimpered into his mouth, his fingers twitching. Buckles snapped apart, the belts of your harness hanging loose around your arms. Feverishly, he unfastened the buttons at your collar to expose more of your skin, licking down the column of your neck as he went.

“Levi.”

His name floated from your mouth, beautiful and delicate. He loved listening to your lips forming the syllables. But it was not what he wanted to hear now.

He drew away and curled his fingers beneath your jaw, gently tilting your face up. “What happened to ‘captain,’ huh?”

You whined and bucked your hips forward to try to grind against the bulge at the front of his trousers.

His grasp on your jaw tightened, ever so slightly. “Well?”

He felt you swallow beneath his hand, your body relaxing. “Captain, please.”

“Good girl,” Levi murmured before leaning in to kiss you once more.

Your shirt came loose, rustling off the edge of your shoulders, held in place only by the ODM gear. Levi shoved a hand, rough with callouses, beneath your bra, harshly squeezing your breast. Your skin hummed from his touch, flushed and shivering.

“You’ve made a mess of my desk,” he said, low like a threat.

“You gonna write me up for that, captain?” you asked.

He thumbed at your nipple, delighting in the way your mouth fell open and your back arched ever so slightly toward him in response. “I should,” he said, lips brushing along the edge of your jaw. “Insubordination. Disrupting an officer. Provoking a superior. You’ve got a whole list of violations.”

Your breath hitched. “And what are you going to do about it, sir?”

That did it. Levi grabbed your wrist and spun you, pressing you down until your palms were flat on the desk. Papers crinkled beneath your hands, and a book hit the floor with a thud. Behind you, he slid his hand along your waist and squeezed softly.

“I’m your commanding officer now,” he said, his mouth hot against your neck. “You want to play, you play my way.”

You let out a breathless little laugh. “Since when do you like power trips?”

“Since about ten minutes ago,” Levi said darkly, dragging his teeth along your throat.

He ground you gently against the desk with his hips, one hand slipping past the flap of your shirt to splay over your bare stomach, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. Your knees nearly buckled.

“Is this the part,” you whispered, “where you issue disciplinary action?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Levi growled.

Your moan was swallowed by the sound of a chair scraping back violently as he shoved everything else off his desk in one smooth sweep. He turned you around and kissed you again, harder this time, and your fingers gripped at his cravat, desperately pulling him closer. When he drew back, breathing hard, your smile was different. A little dazed, a little victorious.

“On your knees,” he said, commanding.

“Yes, sir.”

Arousal roared through him as you sank to the scuffed floorboards. You flattened your palms against his thighs and peered up at him through your lashes. Levi felt depraved for enjoying the sight of you, your shirt hanging half-open, bra askew, hair disheveled. You were awaiting orders. His eyes never left yours as he undid his belt and lowered his trousers. He took your hand and moved it to his half-hard cock, and you obediently wrapped your fingers around his shaft.

“Go on,” he said. “Serve your captain.”

You opened your mouth and took him in. Levi groaned low in his throat as you began to suck him steadily. His hand found its way to the back of your head, not pushing but gently guiding your rhythm as you bobbed on his cock. In your mouth, he twitched and quickly became larger and firmer as you dragged your tongue along his underside with each pull.

“That’s it,” Levi said, softly rocking his hips to meet your movements. “Take it like a good girl.”

You hummed around him, the vibration coursing around his length, and took him in deeper. Flattening your tongue, you swallowed him down and felt his hand tighten in your hair in approval. Your hand shifted down to the very base of him, holding him steady with just your thumb and your forefinger as you took him in to the root, your nose brushing the sparse dark hair surrounding his cock. Levi shuddered out a curse.

His hand grasped harder, and he gave a strong roll of his hips. You nearly gagged, your moan muffled as you forced yourself to breathe through your nose. He started up a rhythm, fucking your mouth slowly in an unmistakable show of control. Your fingers clawed at his thighs as he guided your movements faster, and your jaw ached as you focused solely on keeping your lips sealed around his cock. You whined when the tip hit the back of your throat, tasting the bitter liquid just beginning to leak from him.

“Enough,” he snapped, pushing you off him.

You inhaled your first full breath in too long and flexed your jaw to smile at him. Levi looked down at you, his lips parted and his chest heaving, the steel gray of his eyes eaten away by his pupils.

“I haven’t finished yet, sir,” you said, coyly wiping at your swollen, slick-darkened lips.

“I don’t care,” he said. “Take off your pants and get on top of me. Now.”

You scrambled to follow his orders, discarding the rest of your ODM straps and tearing down your trousers and underwear, messily kicking them off along with your riding boots. Levi leaned against the desk as he watched, his cock jumping at the sight of your ass bare. He tugged away his cravat and jacket and lay back on the cleared surface as you lifted yourself up into his lap. Your breasts spilled from your bra, and your shirt hung off your shoulders in a rumpled mess, but that only added to the lewdness of your appearance. It was almost more arousing to see you in this state than if you were fully naked.

His hands gripped around your hips as you straddled him and ground down on his erection. Levi groaned at the feel of your hot, velvet folds. “You’re already this wet?” he said gruffly. “Just from sucking off your captain?”

Your fingers curled against his shoulders. “Fuck—yes—”

He let you roll experimentally against him, grinding your wet little cunt against his hard length. It drove him wild to see you working that lovely body of yours atop him, your brows drawn in effort, and your thighs flexing on either side of him. The sounds your dripping sex made sliding along his cock were obscene.

“Ride it,” he commanded, tightening his fingers hard enough to bruise. “Fuck yourself on me.”

You moaned and reached between your bodies to guide his cockhead to your slick entrance. Then, you sank down on him, instantly surrounding him with your tight heat.

“Oh, fuck.” You rocked your hips and shivered, the ache inside you blooming into pleasure. “Captain, you’re so deep.”

True to his directive, Levi remained still. He made no move to thrust up into you, not even to push at your hips to help you move on top of him, giving you no choice but to bounce yourself on his lap. You moved your hands to his chest to brace yourself as you split yourself on his cock over and over, feeling your wetness drip out of you to coat his length. Gradually, you found your rhythm and moved faster, desperately seeking your own pleasure and giving him his in the process.

Your thighs burned, and your pace stuttered. You quickly readjusted and found it again, shuddering from the pressure of his brutal hardness pushing tight against your walls. He recognized your efforts and lavished his praise.

“Good girl, oh, that’s it. Doing so well,” Levi rasped.

The wooden surface of the desk bit harshly into your knees. Your hands slid against his chest, feeling the damp of sweat beginning to coat your skin. Levi wetted his thumb on his tongue and reached down to rub your clit. You spasmed on top of him and lost your rhythm again, once, twice, then paused with an almost petulant moan. Levi’s palm smacked into your ass, and you let out a whimper at the sting.

“Did I say to stop?” he demanded.

“Please,” you begged, heart thundering in your chest.

“Please what?” he asked, refusing to drop the harsh authoritative tone he’d adopted.

“I’m tired—please, fuck me.”

Levi slapped your bottom again, eliciting a stifled cry from you. “Try again.”

“Please, fuck me, sir.”

The thrill of your words roared through him. He took you by the jaw and pulled you down to him with a growl to kiss you hungrily. You cried out sharply as he slammed up into you, spearing you on his cock. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close as he pumped himself into you, hitting something deep and delicious within you with each stroke. He could tell how close you were from the way your legs shook and your cunt clenched him viciously.

“Come on, give it to me,” he urged you breathlessly. “Cum for me.”

The order pushed you to your edge, and Levi watched your eyes slam shut as you came on his cock with a strangled moan. Your core pulsed around him as he fucked you through the orgasm flooding you veins with a burning, throbbing pleasure.

“Fuck, good girl—I’m close,” Levi said hoarsely.

There was no ebb of your climax, no time to recover as he continued the frenzied snapping of his hips. His thrusts slammed, echoing through the room as you bit back a wail. Levi’s panting breaths turned absolutely ragged as he desperately chased his high. He held on until the very last moment, then sloppily lifted you off him just as he burst. A broken moan shuddered out of him as his spend violently spurted onto your chest. You groaned and reached out to milk him through his release, letting the warm, sticky liquid spill over your fingers.

Levi slumped against the desk, boneless; the few times you’ve ever seen him so relaxed are always post-orgasm. He let you rest your cheek against him, your chests heaving in uneven rhythms as you caught your breaths. One of your legs dangled lazily off the side of the desk, and one of Levi’s arms was draped across his brow. For a long moment, you were both quiet, basking in the aftermath.

Finally, Levi turned his head to survey the mess around you with a faint, resigned sound in the back of his throat. His papers were everywhere—some wrinkled, some torn, at least speckled with tea. His pen was nowhere to be seen, and his tea cup lay on its side, dripping slowly onto the floor.

“Fucking disgraceful,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

You snorted and propped yourself up to look at him with open amusement. “You didn’t seem too worried about paperwork a few minutes ago. Or order. Or dignity.”

“That was before you started defiling military property.”

“Oh, please,” you said, flopping onto your back beside him. “You defiled me on military property.”

There was a pause. Then, a quiet huff—unmistakably a laugh, at least by Levi’s standards.

“Don’t worry,” you said, turning your head toward him. “I’ll help you clean. Eventually. Once I can feel my legs again.”

“Tch.” Levi worked a hand under his head, gazing up at the ceiling. He was quiet for a beat, then you felt his other hand come to rest on your thigh. “For the record, I prefer it when you call me by my name.”

You blinked at him, then the corners of your mouth lifted slightly. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. He looked at you and brushed the hair from your cheek. “Captain’s fine when we’re in front of the recruits. But when it’s just us…” He trailed off, his thumb pausing against your skin. “...Levi’s better.”

You beamed at him and leaned in to press a kiss to his jaw.

“Alright, Levi.”

“Levi, are you listening to me?”

He hasn’t. Truth be told, he’s been too busy shifting around in his seat, pretending to ignore his growing erection as he stares at your plump figure. He clears his throat, praying you don’t notice because really, why the hell is he getting a hard-on right now? 

(It’s been a while since the two of you were intimate, and still, and still… he feels selfish for having these cravings.)

“Oh?” 

The sound of your curious tone makes it clear you’ve drawn your own conclusions to what’s happening here; he feels your heated gaze sweep past him.

Well, so much for that plan. 

Feeling his cheeks warm under your probing gaze, he meets your stare nonetheless, lidded eyes full of desire.

The sight that awaits him makes his cock twitch. 

Your lips are slightly parted, glazed and tempting, while your eyes roam over his form with obvious hunger. A lick of your lips is the last thing Levi sees before he forces his gaze to the side. 

“What’s this, my love?” you purr.

“S’nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing. You need help with that?”

“Just ignore it.” Ignore me.

“No.” 

You step closer, your round belly now inches from his tormented lips. Instinctively, Levi raises a hand to your waist, stabilizing you against him. This leaves him pressed against you, where the fragrance of fabric softener and the baby oil you apply over your skin is at its strongest. 

It makes his head swim.

“So…” you whisper, “you’re gonna touch yourself for me, hm?” 

He sucks in a breath, his fingers tightening around your plaited shirt.  Of course, when you say it like that…

“Maybe.” 

You raise a brow. “Maybe?”

“Take off your shirt. Wanna see you.”

All of you. 

“Levi…” you hesitate, “you don’t really want to see me like that.” 

“F’course I fucking do.” His eyes swerve up. You’re biting the inside your cheek, looking off to the side. At once, he leans back, staring at you with complete certainty. “I do.”

Levi’s words are steady as the river flowing through this town you and him settled in. He brushes safety into his touches, and waits.

Finally, you give him a small nod, a shy smile tugging at your lips. With his hands rooting you in place, you reach for the bottom hemline of your shirt and pull it over your head.

The fabric pools at your feet like silk; neither of you pay it any attention as you step past it.

Levi’s too transfixed on your rounded stomach to notice anything else.

Somewhere in there, the fruit of your love grows every single day, and Levi knows he’ll protect them till the die he dies. He doesn’t know what his life has amounted to, if it’s meant anything, but if he can make your life and your child’s whole… then that’ll be enough for him. 

With these emotions guiding his actions, he presses a tender kiss on where he imagines the baby might be. Your finger gently comb his bangs back, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

When he pulls back, your half-lidded gaze radiates lust. 

“Touch yourself, my love,” you breathe, “please.”

Levi doesn’t need to be told twice. Freeing his erection from the constraints of his pants, Levi strokes, his cheek pressed against your belly, listening to your inhales and exhales. He remembers holding you like this for the first time, the two of you wound up with grief and ridden with scars. The way you’d looked at him as he filled you whole, just after you discussed the idea of trying for a child together…

Levi groans, glancing down. The tip of his cock, red and flushed, weeps with pre-cum. He runs his thumb over it, using it to lubricate his strokes.

Soft fingers find a home on his cheeks, and before he knows, his gaze is being guided upwards. To the sight of your rounded belly, of your breasts, full in your bra. To the sight of your adoring gaze on him.

“You like that, huh?”

Levi simply grunts in response. He strokes harder, ecstasy now in his veins. 

“Missed this… missed you,” you murmur, praising him with tone and words alike. You let go of him, opting to intertwine your fingers in his hair while Levi’s chin rests over the valley of your belly. “Now, go on. Show me how much you want me.”

Levi does as he’s told. He grips harder and pumps faster.

A wave of pleasure crashes over him. “F-Fuck.”

“Levi.” 

His name tumbling from your lips causes him to focus. He watches in awe as a shudder wracks your spine and a lovely slips out of you. He curses again, feeling that same matched pleasure building. He knows then he won’t last long. 

“Hah…” 

That’s when Levi sees it. Right where your breasts swell round and plush, a path of wet has soaked through the fabric of your bra. 

Levi’s breath catches in the middle of his throat. 

You take notice. Peering at him as you take in the sight of him—watching your leaking nipples in a complete trance, Levi’s breaths turning ragged—there is little else to do but not take action. 

You step back briefly. “Lean back, baby.” 

Levi blinks, dazed at the sudden loss of your presence, but he registers doing what he’s told. Pushing himself back against the armchair, he watches as you unhook your bra, letting it fall to the ground and stepping forward, right in between his legs.  

His heartbeat thunders in his chest as he stares. 

Your weeping tits, flushed and glistening, shine for him. Before he realizes it, you’ve leaned forward, balancing yourself by pressing a knee on the seat, and Levi’s hungry lips instinctively lap onto your right breast.

And oh, what it does to him... 

The taste of it, knowing it is him who caused this reaction, makes his brain short-circuit. Levi comes undone in mere seconds, his orgasm spilling in the middle of his hand and stomach, warm and messy. He moans as milk bubbles on his tongue. 

By the time he comes down from his high, he’s spent and shuddering. What a goddamn mess he’s made. You pay it no mind, cradling him a moment longer, gentle and affectionate, before reaching for a clean handkerchief from your pant pockets and cleaning up.

After you're done, you place a kiss on his sweaty forehead. “Love you.”

That day, as he hugs you tighter and tends to your own pleasure, Levi feels himself whole and safe with you.

The two of you. 

This wasn’t the first of Levi’s work events that you attended on his arm but it was the most formal. While his coworkers had interacted with you plenty of times in the past, they had never seen quite so much skin and you were drawing a great deal of appreciative stares from your boyfriend’s male cohorts. Appreciative stares that Levi did not appreciate at all. 

You’d even caught Erwin, straight-laced and morally upstanding to a fault, stealing a glance below your neckline. Unfortunately, Levi had caught it too. You thought he was going to pop a blood vessel. You’re still not sure that he won’t before the night is through. 

A disgruntled, “Tch”, is all you get in response to your comment. 

You breathe a sigh and gently unwind Levi’s fingers from where they’re wrapped around the champagne flute in death grip. “I’m serious,” you set the rescued glass on the bar behind you, “You need to relax.” 

“I’ll relax when we get home where no one is appraising you like a damn piece of meat and I can get that infuriating dress off of you.” His voice is low and dark and he’s actually pouting. 

“Well,” You intertwine your fingers in his now free hand and wrap your other arm snugly around his bicep, pressing your mostly exposed chest to his arm. “I certainly hope that you don’t feel too relaxed when you're taking my clothes off.” 

He huffs your name and rolls his eyes. You’d tease him further but you don’t get a chance. You’re being approached by the next target of Levi’s glare: A tall broad-shouldered man with wavy blonde hair and a scruffy beard. 

“Fuck off, Jaeger.” 

Zeke laughs, a full-bellied fake thing that makes your skin crawl. Of Levi’s associates, Zeke is by far your least favorite. “Ever the charmer, Levi.” Zeke flashes a smile at you and winks like you’re in on some joke together. “Apparently charming enough to trap this alluring creature on your arm. Who knew you had it in you? Hard to imagine how you can be so bitter at work when you're coming home to something so sweet.” He turns to face you fully. “You’ve certainly got this room in a tizzy. Levi should bring you around more often. Especially when you’re dressed like that.” 

“Zeke, I swear-” 

“Mr. Jaeger,” you cut your boyfriend off smoothly. “I’m flattered. Levi helped me pick this dress out. He has great taste, doesn’t he?” You run your hands down the length of your abdomen and Zeke’s gaze follows. You swallow the bile it elicits. 

“Well I can’t argue that when he’s chosen you as your date. Though I do feel that yours may be in question.” 

Zeke’s eyes - bright blue and intelligent - sparkle with mirth behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Yeah, I think you could.”

Levi is vibrating with anger under your touch but you give his bicep a squeeze to placate him before speaking, “Oh? You think I could do better?” 

You give Levi an appraising look, scanning him from head to toe. You ignore the fierce side-eye he gives as you do so. “Hmmm. I suppose it’s something to consider, Mr. Jaeger.” 

A feral grin slowly spreads across Zeke’s face. “I’ll be here waiting once you’re ready to move up, sweetheart.” 

You cock your head and furrow your brow, “I’m sorry but you will be waiting?”  

The smile slips from Zeke’s lips like oil through the cracks in the pavement. “You look like a sweet little thing but I’m beginning to suspect that you might be just as sour as your man here.” 

“Most certainly.”

“But, Mr. Jaeger, I thought the idea was to be moving up, not down.” 

“Yes, well, appearances can be deceiving. After all, you look like a gentleman with your rented suit and your cute little pocket square but here you are, behaving and reeking like a pig.” You wiggle your nose for effect. “Goodnight, Mr. Jaeger” 

You steer Levi away gently to find a seat at a table on the outskirts of the dance floor. Your feet are aching in your heels and you’re still annoyed by your conversation with Zeke so you really just want to sit down but Levi grabs your wrists before you get the chance. He pulls you against his body with bruising force and it’s almost indecent the way the lines of your bodies press against each other in this open public space. You have half a mind to push away from him but the thought flees your brain when Levi presses his lips to yours. The kiss is demanding and rough and you melt into it immediately. It stops all too soon and then Levi is cradling your face in his hands as he husks, “I fucking love you.” 

The dry statement breaks the sexual tension and you laugh. “Alright, down boy.” You earn another eye-roll. “I’m going to head to the bathroom to fix whatever havok you just wreaked on my lipstick. Behave yourself, please.” 

“Don’t take too long. I want to get out of here as soon as possible.” The gruffness is back and so is the pout. You kiss it softly before turning to walk away. 

As you do, you catch the tail end of a conversation between two men who are far too old to be looking at you the way they are. All you can make out is something about a “fine piece of ass” and a “helluva display”. You wince when you hear one of them clap Levi on the shoulder and say something about “sharing the goods”. That can't have gone over well. 

You push it down and march to the bathroom with your head held high. It's mercifully empty and quiet and you breathe a sigh of relief. Leaning against the cool marble counter, you check your reflection in the mirror and swipe at the lipstick that Levi smeared across your lips in his aggressive reclamation of your attention. You think about how frustrated he's been tonight and feel a little guilty for putting him in this position no matter how unintentional it was. Maybe having you out of the picture for a few minutes will give him a chance to cool down. 

The door slams open with a bang. Or maybe not, you think as you see Levi standing in the doorframe, face flushed with fury. He crosses the room in two stomping strides allowing the door to swing shut behind him.

“Levi what are you-” you don't get any further before his lips are on yours. While his kiss earlier was hungry, this one is ravenous. He crowds you back against the counter as his tongue plunges into the cavern of your mouth. He tastes like the champagne you’ve both been drinking and you think you could get drunk off of his kisses alone. You’re not sure how long it has been before you finally break for air but it must have been a while because you find yourself gulping great mouth-fulls of air. Levi apparently does not feel the same need for oxygen and simply moves his ministrations to your neck and clavicle. You moan raggedly when he sucks a mark under your ear and it seems to push him over some ledge you hadn’t known he was standing on. 

His hands band around your waist and he lifts you onto the counter with a low grunt, keeping his mouth on your skin the whole time. Blood roars in your ears at the sensation and your legs automatically wrap around his waist when he steps between them. 

The new position puts your chest directly in front of his face and he dives into your cleavage, laving the exposed expanse with his tongue. His hands rise to knead and grope at the covered mounds on either side of his head and your own head thumps back against the mirror at the sensation of warmth and wetness that Levi trails across your skin. 

“Levi,” You try again, sounding breathless and ruined, “What - what are you doing?” 

“All these fucking pigs, undressing you with their eyes.” His voice is muffled by your tits and almost drowned out completely by the high-pitched keening sound you make as he deftly rolls a nipple between his fingers. He pulls away to give you a lust-laden look that makes heat pool between your legs. “I’m giving them something to look at.” 

His hands continue their near-brutal assault on your chest, his mouth working steadily at a spot in the center of your cleavage. It will bloom dark the instant he’s through, proudly displayed for all to see. You distantly think that you should maybe be ashamed, maybe stop him, but you’re so turned on that the only truly coherent thought in your head is more. 

You arch into him, desperate to be closer and he groans into your skin before turning his head to suck a new mark on the inner side of your right breast. He continues like that for what feels like hours, alternating sides and leaving shades of red and purple in his wake. Your hips begin to rock into his and you can feel how hard he is through the layers of clothing still covering you both. You want them gone. Fumbling hands struggle to undo his belt before he yanks them away and pins them to the mirror above your head. His lips find your neck again, tongue expertly tracing over every vein. 

“Levi,” Your voice comes out in a thready whine. “Please I need-” You cut yourself off with a gasp as he bites the junction where your shoulder meets your neck.

“Got you.” The words ghost across your skin and his hands roam down the length of your body. He soothes the bite with a sensual drag of his tongue and then keeps his lips busy while his fingers move under your dress. You are so delirious with pleasure that you don’t quite understand how your lace panties are suddenly no longer on your body but are being tucked into his pocket instead. His hands slide up your thighs in a slow drag, bringing your dress with them. You suck in a breath as the cool air hits your drenched pussy and make another weak attempt to reach for his belt. He swats your hand away without looking away from your soaked folds. “No time.” 

Your lip trembles and the fire you attempt to put into your voice is doused by the desperation that you cannot keep at bay, “Bastard. You can’t,”  -hiccup- “you can’t leave me like this.” 

A wicked smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, “Oh I’m not going to leave you like this. I was just saying that I don’t have time to fuck you the way I want to.” He sucks another mark into your neck and thrusts against your center, drawing a high-pitched whine from your throat. “The way you deserve to be fucked.” Another mark and another thrust. You think you’re going to go mad with lust. “That will have to wait.” This time he moves his hips slowly and deliberately, rubbing against you in a way that allows you to feel every thick, throbbing inch. “But there’s plenty of time for this.” 

Without any further warning, Levi moves his hips back and slides his fingers through your slick before plunging one into your wet heat. You gasp at the intrusion and your whole body curves up obscenely, pushing your chest towards Levi’s face. You feel his lips move against your cleavage as he murmurs, “That’s a good girl, so wet for me.” 

His point is enunciated by a squelch as a second finger joins the first. You throb as molten heat spreads through your core. His fingers move in tandem with his mouth, pushing and pulling, sucking and soothing. Your own mouth stutters over cries of “yes”, “please”, and, most frequently, “Levi”. 

You’re certain that there is not a single spot left on your chest that has not been marked and it becomes sensitive as he licks and sucks over the freshly formed bruises. A whimper of pain escapes and Levi responds by adding his thumb to the fray, brushing over your clit in decisive swipes. The pleasure washes out the pain and you are close to the edge within seconds. 

“Oh,” Your head knocks against the mirror after a particularly forceful thrust but you are too overcome to register the fresh pain. “Levi, I - please - I can’t - don’t stop-” You can’t finish a sentence but that’s okay, Levi doesn’t need you to. 

His fingers curl against your walls and he strums his thumb over your clit in tight circles. Your name comes out in a rasp against your left nipple as he commands, “Come for me.” 

Your orgasm is instantaneous and all-consuming. Blinding pleasure spreads through your body and you lose control of every muscle as they are engulfed by the sensation. Your legs spasm against the counter, shaking so hard that your left foot escapes the confines of the straps on your high heel. Cold glass chills your head as it rolls against the glass behind you and you stop breathing for a few precious minutes as your mind is wiped clear of all thoughts except one: How good Levi looks cleaning your come off of his fingers by popping them into his mouth and swirling his tongue around them - slowly and purposefully. You close your eyes to give your heart a chance to get back under control and when you open them again, Levi is staring at your tits in open admiration. He gently brushes his fingers between them and you wince at the feeling. “How bad is it?” You ask him in a voice that sounds nothing short of debauched. 

Levi sucks in a breath. “It's. .  .” He kneels to fix your heel and gently lifts you from your perch on the counter. You stumble into his chest as he sets you on your feet and he smiles softly, kissing your forehead. “Take a look.” 

He spins you slowly to face the mirror, keeping his hands securely on your waist. “Levi!” you scold, though the effect is somewhat marred by how broken your voice still sounds. Your chest is a riot of color. Every single inch of skin is littered with red kiss-marks, some already beginning to bloom into shades of purple and blue. Your neck bares his marks as well, though they are more scattered up there. Your boobs were very obviously the preferred target here and Levi very clearly did not miss. 

You sigh as you straighten your dress and attempt to put your hair back in order. Levi helps smooth a few of the flyaways and once you look somewhat put together - You definitely still look like you got railed in a public bathroom but at least your tits aren’t hanging out of your dress - you stretch a hand out to Levi, palm-up. “I’ll need my underwear back, too.” 

Levi looks at you thoughtfully for one moment, then ogles your tits for two. “No.” He states, patting his pocket. “I’ll think I’ll hold on to that for now.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, well, good thing we’re going home, then.” You step close to him and gently cup him through his pants, “We have some things to take care of, after all.” 

While he folded it with superfluous care, you waited patiently. It annoyed him.

“You’re slow.”

His eyes widened. He let out a focused breath through his nose, scowled poisonously at your subtle reproach, and went to place it on the dresser. A part of him protested greatly to turning his back on you, the part that he couldn’t escape, the continued existence of which was now beyond agitating.

Subtle but firm hands found his shoulders once he put it down, making him tense. He couldn’t calm down. He felt it especially viscerally because he was unable to express it.

Your touch, steadfast, glided down the length of his arms, and guided them behind his back. There was no trace of resistance.

His fists ground into tight fists as cold metal skittered around his wrist.

As he struggled to breathe completely, you smoothed your hands down his shoulders, and stepped imposingly close to his ivory, muscular back. He didn’t stand on his own. You were alone together, but in the spirit of, he was alone with you.

You steered him around, almost humiliatingly so, walked him back to the center of the bedroom. Your voice penetrated his ear. “Kneel down.”

He lowered himself to his knees for you.

“Don’t look at me, look at the floor… That’s the way it’s going to be. It doesn’t matter how much you sneer, Levi.”

You returned behind him, and kneeled down at his level. You longed to touch the muscular expanse of his back, to smooth over his fingers—that were screwed into fists—or to see his expression in reaction to what you were going to do. Fortunately, there was a lot you longed to do to Levi.

He gasped shakily as you brushed his nipples, slowly, almost experimentally. He was as tense as iron, eyes trying to track you out of outrage, but the position was simply too strict for him to. As they grew stiff and hard, you cooed in his ear, almost moaning.

He hunched, making himself smaller, so you pinched. A shaky little ah betrayed him, but he squirmed sharply as you began rubbing the front of his pants with your other hand, as if his hard cock didn’t fit perfectly in it.

“Fuck you,” he spat quietly, hands squirming. The more he leaned to get away, the heavier you maneuvered straight on top of him. He fought, if with all the strength of someone who didn’t want to.

“Stop fighting it. Just let it happen.”

His cheek pressed to the wood under him. “I’m not doing this on the fucking nasty floor!”

“Uh-huh?”

“You’re disgusting.”

You squeezed his crotch. “And you’re so fucking hard.”

He attempted to beat your hand away, but it only succeeded in bullying your palm deeper between his legs.

He groaned heavily into his shoulder.

“You complain too fucking much, though. More of that.”

You leaned over him now, and pressed firmly against his ass. His pants were tight.

He made a quiet sound of indignation. “Go to hell.”

You hadn’t realized how much you needed this, and moaned softly, unable to resist. “What if I want to do whatever I want with you?”

It was when your hand enveloped his belt buckle that he struggled again, as though to roll out from underneath you. You felt up his deeply muscular middle and chest as he squirmed, squeezing indulgently, and running your hand through his hair which always relaxed him.

He cursed you again, lashing out the more you used him to grind against. When you got his belt free, you were making yourself pant and moan with your pointed, full thrusts as you held Levi’s hair to the floor.

Most of the core soldier rigidness was fleeing him. His face stuffed as much in his shoulder as he could, obfuscating soft sounds of pleasure. You tried panting in a whisper in order to hear them when you remembered how much control you possessed.

You opened his trousers, and roughly yanked them and his boxer briefs down his legs like he’d been doing something he shouldn’t have. They choked around his knees, but that barely deterred him.

You placed your palm on the nape of his neck as if you were training a dog to kneel, and charged your hips more roughly. Usually he hated being touched here—a reason you did it— because all his movements sagged and became sluggish. He hated it.

(You’d known how much he needed this because he’d told you to use it.)

Whatever it was, it temporarily made his head empty, his eyes glaze over. This small method relieved him of everything, even thinking. Levi was yours, and you had full possession over that fact. In your final passing sense of clarity, that rocketed you the rest of the way to orgasm.

“Oh fuck, Levi, good boy, fuck—”

Your hand swam again through his hair as you braced yourself on him and the floor. He groaned and shuddered. If your eyes weren’t tightly shut, you’d see Levi with his watery eyes pinched open covertly watching your face with his lip clamped between his teeth.

When you were spent, you nearly collapsed, still trembling. As the moments stretched out, and you recovered, it was almost… peaceful.

But you were more fulfilled when Levi was.

You sat up and divvied his legs, but he kneeled there and wouldn’t let you seperate them.

“Stop,” you stated, vacant of emotion. You reared your hand back and spanked him so hard that it seemed to nail hammer the command into him. He jerked and the impact even smarted your hand, but he stayed quiet.

It made you laugh a little. You slapped his tight ass again, and again then again, then again, watching satisfied as his pale skin slowly basked in red in the echoey shape of your hand; listening fixated as you earned a brittle gasp from a last slap.

You went to stand, but grabbed his ankle to see what he’d do this time. When he kicked out—not enough to do damage, but enough to knock you off—and glared bright daggers at you, you laughed again. You were enjoying the game. You picked his belt off the floor.

He stubbornly turned his face towards the floor and blindly kicked again as you approached. He was lowballing his strength, orchestrating an act. Acting out.

That should be put out of his mind immediately, and completely. You wanted to finish breaking him in so well that he forgot all about fighting and resisting. If he wanted you to, you’d break him.

You gave his hair a good yank, pulling his head to the side and out of hiding. At the same time, you dropped behind him and wrapped your arm around his chest, mockingly holding him against you as you finally got your hand around his cock, and pinched his hard, blushing nipples.

He shuddered thickly, his muscles visibly tightening as you worked the drooling tip of his cock with your palm. He’d already been dripping a shameful amount of precum, so he was easy, but he was getting easier. His cock throbbed. The side of his bitten lips looked wet, and the grimace on his face suddenly looked twisted out of pleasure rather than defiance. The occasional breathy moan danced around your mind, and the longer you touched him, strokes dragging, even consoling, the more his voice blessed your ears.

“Let me hear you. Now.”

Head hanging, he shook it from side to side. He moaned.

“That’s it… you’re so hard. why are you fighting me if it feels good?”

When you divvied your knee between his legs this time, his hips buckled. With that, you could spread his legs apart. Now you had all the room to touch him. To stroke him faster.

He sighed raggedly, a ghost of a whine high from his chest. He struggled not to move with your snug pumps, he really did. It hardly seemed to matter however, with the way you were touching him. Anticipation, no matter how unlikely it was, slithered into his belly, his balls clenched.

You slowed with your hand. It made him whine, then, pathetically start rutting slightly.

“You want off the floor?” you proposed, as he rutted harder. “I’ll put you in a chair so we can get started.”

You stopped.

“F-Fuck you,” he growled.

You shoved him down as if you gave very little thought or consideration either way—you rested your weight on him, smiled almost proudly at his weak indignity, and wrenched his hair to the side. Your faces were close. Most of his face was up to you with his fierce beauty, which never failed to grip you with profound adoration. Tears had caked on his lashes, bringing out the dazzling blues and greys of his glazed eyes.

Despite yourself, “You really thought I was gonna let you come? Like you deserve it?”

Your hand snugly returned to Levi’s nape, smoothing up and down, like a massage.

“Ah!!” He sank his nails in which uselessly scratched at his palms as a shudder gripped his entire body. His lips parted, peeking the bright whites of his canines. You kept going, but stroked him this time. His cock throbbed heavily as he wildly panted and bucked into it. It was apparent it felt too good to contain in his voice, rendering him silently sputtering as he smushed his forehead into the rug.

“Oh. Does that feel so good?”

“Ah… Fuck…”

You leaned overtop him to inspect his face more closely.

You saw the tears spilling down his face, squeezing out from shut eyes. They tipped on the floor.

Your lips formed to say the safeword outright.

“Don’t stop.”

You stopped but you considered him. You didn’t want to do what you just did again, even if every choice so far had simply accumulated in a pinnacle.

The more you recalled all of his reactions, the more you agreed with him. That was what he wanted from the beginning: to be forced into submission. He truly trusted you with everything in him.

Your hand slithered underneath him, feeling him again—he cried out—and his thick cock strained against the side of your hand. He was as hard as a rock.

Your hand crossed his cheek, on top of oven-warm rosy skin, and smeared the wetness across it. Like the shadow of a red rose in a glistening mirror of silver.

He cautiously cast his misty eyes up at you in time to see you licking it off your palm.

“You sick fuck,” he breathed. His cock twitched in your hand.

It wasn’t palatable, what you just did, but Levi getting off on it sparked fresh excitement inside you.

“Hm.”

Your hand came down hard on his ass again, instantly re-immersing him in a world of stinging pain that’d begrudgingly numbed. In fact pain sunk its talons in deeper than before. A fresh burst of stinging made him groan, and a bright handprint formed like scarlet. Once, and then again.

You spread some pre from his cock on your thumb, and spread his ass. As soon as you touched him, he whined and hitched forward, moving to get away from the sting and yet pushing back for more. A shiver ran through you at how tight he felt just from the outside.

You were hypnotized. He was so reactive to the exquisite fire of pain and pleasure together, stoking a barely-controlled flame inside you

“Agh, you’re so pretty, baby.”

You countered the genuine compliment by getting off of him. When he raised his head weakly, you planted his nape down so he fell on his side.

“Stay, you fucking dog.”

He shivered, and watched you with a blank fixation that was almost innocent. The urge to kiss him was downright overwhelming. You allowed a small kiss on his lips before getting up.

“And take off your fucking pants already, whore.”

You stepped out of your own pants, leaving only your underwear on.

What you were looking for had been waiting on the bed. It was pure silver metal. The iron bar was connected to small chains that tinged softly when you picked it up, along with the leather cuffs which hung slack. Next to it, a blindfold that was as red as fire. It felt smooth and silky when you picked it up.

“Put it on by yourself,” you said, and raised the spreader.

You raised a brow expectantly as Levi’s eyes widened.

“Fucking dumbass… How am I supposed to do that.”

You set down the bar at your feet, and stepped over it, towards him. You had an idea.

Key off the dresser in hand, you kneeled behind him and a moment later, there was a crisp release of metal. He scarcely moved his tender wrists, knowing better that whatever you had in mind wouldn’t go without severe punishment if he acted out. It was a dare, and a cruel one on your part.

You placed them both at the edge of the rug, then pulled Levi flat on his back, bent his knees, and hitched yourself on top of his thighs to pin him well in place. There was no shortage of ways he was exposed like this, demonstrated by his pinched expression, and there’d similarly be no shortage of humiliation soon.

“Put it on.” You offered the bar again. “You can do that, can’t you?”

His eyes were shining as you tussled his hair, half-smiling as you seemed to await an answer. “Can’t you?”

When finally, he started to shift his hands from low beside his back, you rested your weight, almost giving your ass for him to grind against. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, hard.

You put down the bar, traded it for the handcuffs, and arduously, dragged his wrists down. Bullying them under his back was awkward bordering-on very uncomfortable, humiliating. However, his hips twitched forward anyway, unwilling to continue like this, but starving to. He soon picked up a jerky pace with blind disregard, almost trying to slide through your ass but getting stopped short by your underwear. It was apparent, that at this point he was too horny to dread when you’d mercilessly stop again.

You locked his hands back in the silver cuffs. Any enjoyment from the fleeting minute of freedom was unceremoniously dashed.

You grabbed the bar again, and raised it between his ankles. The look you peered over him with seemed as torturous to him as anything you could have spoken.

It looked deceptively simple. Slipping his ankles into the cuffs with only his feet was difficult and arduous because of the way the iron dangled limply from the short chain. You stroked his thigh in mocking comfort as he angled his foot, trying and failing because of helpless physics.

Touching him only seemed to make it worse, little by little. Between shivers, he’d knock the chain by accident, undoing every bit of progress he’d strenuously strung together. As many times as he dropped back to square one, your hand still moved on his cock. It wasn’t enough to do anything, just to keep him desperate.

At last when he dropped his ankle into the strap, he looked up at you and whined. Really, closed his eyes into almost slits and couldn’t stop it.

You slid the leather and tightened it. He was already trying to do the second one, if he could make up for being slow, but he struggled thoroughly.

During all the time, you started to kiss the bottom of his foot, and traced the high arch of it with your tongue. He shivered through it as you felt his cock coming to life in your hand.

But in a way, silence was even more intimidating than any words of degradation from your mouth. His chest quaked like a sigh too thick for his throat when his slender ankle inched inside the leather. With your mouth still buried in his toes, you tightened it as well. You could tell he was inches from cracking.

You maneuvered him from his back, onto his knees, where you might as well have been bending a doll to your will; he was so deep in subspace that his eyes seemed more drunk on you than conscious of your gaze.

You gently carded your fingers through his hair, making it neat again. “It looks like only I can take care of you… That’s pathetic.”

You said this with mock-consolation. He responded by leaning against your legs, panting quietly. He made a small croaking sound as your hand settled in his hair.

“You can’t do anything. I’ve got you in a trap, haven’t I.”

He nodded, still breathing shakily, almost pushing himself up against your leg. Because you were clothed and standing straight, he seemed even more submissive at your feet.

“Yeah,” you murmured, almost wonderingly. It certainly came with a perverse sense of astonishment.

You forced the side of his face up for him to look at you. The words that rose to mind were ‘beautiful’, instantly, and then ‘so fucking hot’.

You held the blindfold like dangling food in front of a dog. It was a surprise—you had known it would be—so you wanted to gauge his true feelings on it. His expression very barely changed.

You guided the back of his head to your crotch, smothering his face in the smooth cotton and the heat of your sex. Whimpering, he pressed his nose and mouth into it as you set up the blindfold. His breath was faintly wet, and very hot. You almost regretted tempting yourself. When the lower half of his face came away, glistening and warm, you obscured his eyes.

“Stand up.”

“…I… I…”

“You can’t?”

“I….” A sob was in his voice, the heat of his breath spreading on your thigh. “I can’t…”

It’d be impossible for him to walk himself even if you forced him to. Smiling slightly, you, painstakingly, raised him to his feet, and made him almost toddle to a soft armchair at the wall.

It was shaped with a cushion that was shaped like a black lip with a small relaxed back and curved armrests, not that you needed them.

He sat with hands unable to grip, with nothing to tell you from air except the sound of your breathing. His own breathing sounded much too loud. When you touched his cheek, he flinched slightly and sucked in a quick breath through his nose.

Brow raised, you settled your other hand around his neck, just below his adam’s apple. With burning satisfaction, you watched it slide up and down as you imagined how he’d look up at you on the brink of restricting his breathing a serious amount. A small, dry strain appeared in his breathing, and his lips parted.

“No more of that.” You spoke maddeningly with icy calmness. “If you do that again, I’m going to make it hurt really bad, okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Levi gasped, like the word had been waiting to leap from his tongue.

He relaxed visibly, breathing hard, and relaxed further in slight increments despite the fact you weren’t letting up.

“Don’t you want to be a good boy?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna come?”

The question made his breath stammer.

“Huh?” You seized the lower half of his face, and mockingly turned his head from side to side. “Do you want to piss me off?”

He shook his head quickly.

As you observed closely for any signs to pause, you put your hand around the top of his cock. The shaky sound he thickly let out made you burn, his spine arched. When he shivered, or gave you a small noise, you kissed closer and closer to his cock.

His cock twitched as your breath passed over it. Surely he was more ready than ever, swollen and blushing an angry crimson red from nonstop teasing. You liked sliding it against your cheek, feeling wetness and the softness of his skin, and the plump river of veins underneath. You liked mouthing his firm, heavy balls, and simply breathing him in. The almost excruciating softness of his inner thighs that begged to be thoroughly marked, you marked with your teeth as you nuzzled his crotch.

The reason you opted out of using a gag was clear now—an added torture on Levi, who sounded so sweet like this; hurt by you when he not just craved to be hurt, but on a fundamental level needed to be to sate a darkness that couldn’t be sated by himself, or merely through thinking through it like you knew he did. Compounding demons with the attention from someone he puts nothing if not his life towards trusting, that bred Levi’s desperation right now.

With little preamble, you took him inside, slowly sliding him to the back of your throat. Levi moaned brokenly the whole time, tense like if he moved forward at all, you’d stop.

If he was worried about that, you probably would; then you’d edge him and make him cum harder.

You did just that, popping his tip into your mouth before taking it back, and gently mouthing it with open-mouthed, wet kisses. You kept tasting more of him. A little bit of sticky cum drooled down the corner of your mouth.

His thighs shuddered when you actually sank down, and clenched when you pulled back. It’d been under his breath at first, but eventually, the word started taking on shape when Levi spoke it, begging the word ‘please’.

“You think you deserve it?” you asked and flicked your wrist on his tip at the same time. “Do you deserve to come?”

His face contorted into a grimace as he bucked in your hand, with motions that seemed like he didn’t mean to. When he spoke, it sounded like he’d been gargling rocks.

“Please…”

“Yeah… beg for me.” You leaned over him, insistent. “I’ll make you feel good. Have I made you feel good yet?”

He nodded rapidly. “I…” he choked out. “F-Fucking please. Please. Please.”

With that, you took him in again, heavily swallowing as you painted his cock with your tongue.

To your delight, Levi kept saying it—or didn’t stop himself from saying please, over and over as you quickly worked him towards orgasm. You poured yourself over his lap so he wouldn’t have to move too much, which put his cock at the back of your throat.

And like a rubber band fixed to snap, Levi tensed even more, panting, whining.

You burned. He suddenly doubled over as his cock pulsed heavily, seeming to get bigger and throb. He didn’t move for all of several seconds before breaking out into intense spasms, panting intently like he needed to do it to breathe at all. It ripped through his thighs and consumed your senses. Nuzzling into wiry hair and hot skin, you drank him in, working his balls too.

Finally, he collapsed, shuddering as you pushed him past the brink of pleasure, but you didn’t let up. You kept going, putting aside ever slowing down.

“Sh-Shit… A-…”

As the reality that you weren’t stopping—not until he came again—sank in, you heard what almost sounded like a dry sob shudder his chest. It was too intense to quiet himself—if he even had the capacity to worry about that anymore. All there was, was the electric morphing of titillating pain and constant rush of pleasure. His toes curled until his nails bit into the rug, and his hips wriggled in useless, instinctive attempts to get away.

The sounds of dry sobs was almost breath-for-breath now despite his cock fully hard in your mouth again. You moaned around him, and felt his balls tighten slightly. No matter how much he felt like he couldn’t come again, you’d make him. Eventually, whimpers of overstimulation morphed into increasingly full moans. You looked up at him through lashes beaded with tears, to find some of his own dripping down his chest. The blindfold was slightly greyed where his eyes were. Visible sweat sheen on his brow. The rest of his face was blushing red.

Groaning, you replaced your mouth with your fist, and started to lick up his chest, tasting salt upon the exquisite heat of his pale skin and lithe muscle. He practically writhed under the new sense of friction, gaping. You kissed and tongued his open mouth, Levi leaning into you right away, shakily pressing his forehead against yours in search for stability.

“P-Please, t-too fucking much,” he whispered urgently. Then he gained his voice back drastically, hips buckling. ”Shit.”

“Oh, I know, that’s it. You’re almost there.”

“Fuck,” he sobbed, dropping his face into your neck and started struggling haplessly again—to be against you more than to escape his bindings.

“Gonna come, baby…?” you mock-soothed, running your other hand all up and down his stomach and chest.

He nodded frantically, hips helplessly bounding into your fist as his shoulders bowed against his restraints. His tender cock was peaked and twitching in your grasp once again. Your hand fell down, pumping him as you played with his tip with the other, and his movements intensified.

He sobbed, stricken, into your neck when he came for the last time. It was even stronger than the first had been, reaching into the depths of his chest for a deep grunt, followed by long bouts of intense shivering. You let him pour all his sounds into your neck as he whimpered through it. Cum spurted all over your hands, and you manage to catch some of the mess in your mouth.

He practically collapses back against the chair, sniveling quietly when you say the safeword and start to undress his blindfold.

Levi’s eyelids flutter several times, never quite focusing. You have him lean forward, and undo his wrists next. They’re ringed with hard angry red lines. You let separate them gradually, following up his back and briefly pressing your palms into the conclaves of his shoulderblades.

As you end the scene, you’re full of praise. Silently, he melts against you. There’s no other time where Levi is so vulnerable than when aftercare begins. The smallest thing can send him into a drop.

Even though he won’t say it, all he needs is to be taken care-of. Something you’re more than willing to do, every time.