Petals, Sweat, and Sin
☆ Day 6 of Levi NSFW 26 | Sex Pollen | event by @levievent
☆ Summary: Levi has survived Titans, war, and politics. He did not expect to be taken down by a flower.
☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Female Reader
☆ Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant, Needy Levi, Smut
☆ Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content, sex pollen, dubious consent, aphrodisiacs, piv, oral sex (m. receiving), multiple orgasms, multiple creampies
☆ Word Count: 4k
☆ a/n: this is probably my favorite one out of all the days!
☆ Check out the other days!
[ Art by ctvtc ]
Levi doesn’t take walks for leisure.
He tells himself that as he steps outside the Survey Corps Headquarters and into the forest clearing anyway, twigs and leaves crunching underneath his boots. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants as he tries to ignore the pounding headache forming behind his eyes from three straight hours of paperwork and two separate arguments with soldiers who apparently couldn’t follow the simplest instructions. If he has to read one more report written like a drunk wrote it with his feet, he’s going to start throwing people off the wall himself.
The forest air is cool and damp, carrying the smell of moss and earth and leaves, and despite himself, he feels some of the tension in his shoulders loosen slightly as he walks further from the castle, further from the noise and the mess and the endless responsibility that seems to sit permanently on his shoulders.
He walks without really thinking about where he’s going, just following the familiar perimeter paths, scanning automatically for anything out of place because even when he’s trying to relax, he never really stops being a soldier.
His gaze snags on something anomalous amid the greens and browns—a flower unlike any he has encountered in these woods, its petals a striking violet swirled with inky black veins that pulse faintly in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. The center glows with an otherworldly iridescence that draws him closer despite his instincts screaming caution. He frowns slightly and crouches down to get a better look.
“That’s new,” he mutters under his breath.
He leans closer, studying the shape of the petals, the strange dust clinging to the center, and after a moment he reaches out and lightly touches one of the petals with his finger.
The flower reacts with an explosion, a fine cloud of shimmering pollen erupting directly into his face like a burst of glittering dust. He coughs harshly, waving his hand to dispel the particles, the taste acrid on his tongue as he straightens up. He wipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve while muttering a curse under his breath.
“Stupid plant,” he mutters. “Tch.”
He starts walking back toward headquarters, annoyed more than anything, already planning to tell Hange so they can come catalog the stupid thing and probably get excited about it like the lunatic they are.
But after about a minute, he slows down.
Something feels wrong.
At first it’s just a strange warmth in his chest, like he walked too fast or the air suddenly got hotter, but the warmth spreads quickly, rolling through his body in waves that make his skin feel tight and overly sensitive.
He stops walking. “What the hell?”
The heat keeps building, crawling up his neck, settling low in his stomach. The arousal hits him like a thunderclap—his cock twitching to life in his pants, swelling rapidly into a rigid, throbbing erection that strains painfully against the confines of his uniform pants, the ache so intense it borders on agony.
Every pulse of blood sends jolts of desperate need radiating through his groin and up his spine. Levi grits his teeth, breath hitching as he presses a palm against the bulge, not to soothe but to confirm the betrayal of his own body. His mind reels with confusion and a rising tide of humiliated fury.
This isn't normal. No way. That damn flower—has to be. He forces himself to move, legs unsteady as he retraces his path back to headquarters. Each step rubs fabric against his oversensitive shaft and amplifies the torment. His face is a mask of stoic control even as sweat soaks his shirt collar.
“That stupid fucking flower,” he says through clenched teeth.
This is ridiculous. This is absolutely ridiculous. He is not being taken out by a plant.
By the time he reaches the headquarters building, the heat has gotten worse. His skin feels too tight, his uniform feels too heavy, and every movement is suddenly very noticeable in a way he absolutely does not appreciate.
He finds Hange in one of the side rooms surrounded by books and papers and what looks like three different jars of something that is probably toxic.
“Four Eyes,” he says flatly.
They look up immediately, glasses sliding slightly down their nose. “Levi! Perfect timing, I was just reading about—”
“I need you to look something up,” he interrupts.
They blink at him, immediately noticing something is off. “You look… sweaty.”
“I am sweaty,” he says. “Focus.”
He quickly describes the flower—dark petals, glowing center, releases dust when touched—and Hange’s eyes immediately light up with interest.
“Oh! That sounds like—wait, hold on.” They start flipping through a thick book on the desk, pages turning rapidly while Levi stands there very still, arms crossed, trying very hard to ignore the heat crawling through his body and the increasingly distracting erection that is not going away.
Hange stops on a page and leans closer, scanning the text. “Oh no,” they say.
Levi narrows his eyes. “What?”
They turn the book slightly so he can see the illustration. The flower looks exactly like the one he touched. “It’s a defensive plant,” Hange explains. “When touched, it releases a concentrated aphrodisiac pollen to deter animals and humans from messing with it.”
Levi stares at them. Very slowly, very flatly, he says, “Great. Now tell me how to make it fucking stop.”
Hange grimaces slightly and looks back at the book, scanning further down the page. “…There’s no way to make it stop,” they say carefully. “You have to wait it out.”
Levi’s eye twitches. “How long?”
Hange winces. “It says effects can last anywhere from several hours to… up to twenty-four hours depending on exposure.”
Levi closes his eyes for a long moment.
Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours of this.
Levi's vision blurs at the edges as another surge of heat coils low in his belly, his cock leaking pre-cum into his underwear, the wet spot growing embarrassingly as he clenches his fists to maintain composure. Of all the stupid, bullshit ways to go down—humped into submission by a fucking plant?
“I’m going to my office,” he says flatly.
“That’s probably a good idea,” Hange says quickly.
Levi spins on his heel to stalk back to his office, slamming the door with enough force to rattle the walls. He collapses into his chair only to spring up again as the chair's pressure against his ass sends a fresh spike of need through his trapped erection.
Alone in the sparse room, surrounded by stacks of reports that now mock him with their banality, he paces like a caged animal, boots thudding against the floorboards as sweat drips steadily down his back, soaking his uniform while his breaths come in ragged gasps. His chest heaves with the effort to suppress the primal urge clawing at his sanity.
This is the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to him. He’s Humanity’s Strongest. He's survived the Underground and its savage nature. He’s taken down Titans that the veterans struggled with. He’s survived battles most people would not walk away from. And now he’s being taken down by a flower. A fucking flower.
The internal battle rages fiercer with each passing minute, his thoughts devolving into a haze of filthy imagery—imagined hands stroking him, mouths sucking him down, tight heat clenching around him—his hips twitching involuntarily as he grips the edge of his desk, knuckles whitening. His nails dig into the wood while he fights the compulsion to shove his hand down his pants right there.
He has to do something.
The decision crystallizes in his fevered mind. His free hand is already fumbling at his belt buckle, the promise of release the only anchor in the storm threatening to drown him.
Levi leans back against the desk, the edge digging into his lower back as he unzips his pants and frees his painfully rigid cock, the thick shaft jutting upward, veins bulging and tips glistening with fresh pre-cum. His hand wraps around it with a desperate grip that has his hips bucking. He strokes himself with rough, urgent pulls, thumb swiping over the sensitive head on each upstroke. Sweat drips from his brow onto the floorboards, his breaths escaping in harsh pants that echo off the walls.
The first orgasm builds swiftly, coiling tight in his gut before exploding outward. Ropes of cum splatter across his shirtfront and the floor as he grunts low, body shuddering violently. Even as the aftermath fades, his erection remains defiantly hard, twitching insistently in his slackening grip.
What the hell? Not enough?
Well, Hange did say it would last for several hours.
Undeterred and growing frantic, he resumes the rhythm, hand slick with his own release, chasing a second peak that crashes over him even harder, spilling more seed onto the growing mess. His knees nearly buckle as stars burst behind his eyelids—yet, still, the unrelenting hardness persists, throbbing with renewed ferocity, leaving him slumped and cursing under his breath. His mind is a fog of humiliated rage and insatiable hunger.
A knock at the door shatters the fragile illusion of privacy. Levi’s head snaps up, voice cracking through the haze as he bellows, “Don’t come in!”
But the words twist in the air—or perhaps his own ragged shout misfires—and you push the door open, arms laden with a stack of inventory sheets for his approval. You step inside, eyes downcast at first, but when you raise them, your eyes widen in shock at the sight before you: Captain Levi, hand frozen mid-stroke on his massive, slick erection, face flushed red and glistening with sweat.
The papers tumble from your grasp in a fluttering cascade across the floor. You slap a hand over your eyes, spinning around so fast your boots squeak. Heat floods your cheeks. What have you done? Captain Levi, of all people—you had to catch him like this? You need to get out and pretend this never happened.
You stammer apologies as you back toward the door. “I’m so sorry, Captain! I—I thought you said to come in. I’ll leave right now. I’m so sorry—”
Before you can retreat fully, Levi lunges forward, his hand clamping around your wrist in a vice-like grip. He pulls you to a halt as his other hand hastily tucks himself away, though the bulge remains prominent. Desperation etches into his usually impassive face, steel eyes pleading in a way that twists something deep inside you.
“Wait—please don’t go,” he quite literally begs. “Something happened out in the woods. A flower sprayed some shit in my face and now I’m stuck like a dog in heat for the next twenty-four hours. Hange confirmed it. There’s no cure. I just have to ride it out. I can’t… I need help. Please.”
Fuck my pride, fuck everything. If she walks out, I’ll lose my mind, he thinks. Vulnerability cracks his ironclad control as he holds your gaze. The mighty captain reduced to raw entreaty.
You hesitate, pulse thundering in your ears, torn between duty and the electric pull of his touch. He’s your captain; this could end your career. But he looks so wrecked begging like this. Part of you wants to say yes to ease the pain in his eyes.
“Captain, I… you’re my superior. This isn’t right,” you say.
He steps closer, thumb brushing your pulse point soothingly. His breath ghosts over your skin. “It’s okay. No one has to know. Just help me through this. I trust you.” The sincerity in his words, mingled with the musky scent of his arousal hanging heavy in the air, erodes your resistance until you nod. You give in with a shaky exhale.
Levi surges forward, crashing his lips against yours in a messy, devouring kiss, all teeth and tongue and pent-up frenzy. His hands frame your face as he pours his desperation into the contact. He tastes of need while you melt against him, your own arousal flickering to life.
He breaks away just long enough to guide your hand downward, wrapping your fingers around his still-throbbing cock through the half-open zipper. The heat of him sears your palm as you tentatively stroke the velvety length, skin slick from his earlier releases.
A whimper escapes him at the first touch of your softer grip—high and needy, utterly unlike the stoic captain you know—and it ignites something primal in you, your core clenching with heat you hadn’t anticipated. You almost want to hear him make that sound again. Your thighs press together as slickness gathers between them. Your breath hitches while your hand moves slowly now, from base to tip, thumb circling the weeping slit to draw out more of those delicious, broken noises.
Levi’s hips stutter into your rhythm, head falling back as pleasure eclipses the torment for fleeting moments. Your hand feels like heaven. It’s so much better than his own. The need escalates swiftly, pulling tighter until he begs again, voice wrecked and eyes locked on your lips.
“Your mouth—please, use your mouth on me. I need it so bad.”
You sink to your knees before Levi as he leans back against the desk’s edge, the wood creaking under his weight while your hands steady on his muscular thighs. Your lips part to take the flushed head of his cock into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the salty tip as you suck gently at first, savoring the way he throbs against your palate.
Your own arousal throbs insistently between your own legs as you bob your head deeper, taking more of him inch by inch, saliva coating his length while your fingers dig into the tense cords of muscle under his skin.
Levi’s control fractures almost immediately. A string of whimpers spill from his lips—high, needy keenings that grow into unrestrained moans louder than he intends. They echo off the office walls. His fingers thread into your hair, gripping firmly, guiding your pace with desperate bucks of his hips that push him further down your throat.
Fuck, her mouth is too good, Levi’s mind reels, pleasure spiking through the haze like lightning. His body is tense as your tongue presses flat along the underside, humming vibrations around him while you hollow deeper. Your nose brushes his pubic bone on a particularly eager thrust.
The orgasm rips through him in under a minute, his grip tightening in your hair as he cries out. It’s a raw guttural moan that borders on a shout. Hot spurts of cum flood your mouth, thick and copious, forcing you to swallow around him to keep up. His thighs quiver under your hands as waves of pleasure crash over him, leaving him gasping and slumped. His cock barely softens, twitching back to full hardness almost instantly.
Without a word, still panting, Levi hauls you up by the arms with superhuman strength. He drags you through the narrow adjoining door into his bedroom—a minimalist space with a simple bed, neatly made sheets, and little else reflecting the clean-freak captain’s discipline—before throwing you onto the mattress with enough force to bounce you once. You land sprawled on your back, heart hammering with a mix of exhilaration and trepidation.
You watch wide-eyed as he strips himself completely, peeling off his sweat-damp shirt and uniform pants in frantic motions, revealing his compact, chiseled physique. Abs ripple, his cock juts proudly upward again, glistening from your saliva. He turns his predatory gaze toward you.
Frustration boils over as Levi attacks your uniform, fingers fumbling angrily with the endless straps and buckles that seem to multiply under his touch. His jaw clenches in irritation while curses fly under his breath. The pollen fuels a near-feral impatience that has him nearly ripping the clothes from your body. Too many damn layers—fucking military bullshit, keeping him from what’s his right now.
He yanks at a stubborn belt until it snaps, but when the next one fails to yield, he reaches into his bedside table drawer and pulls out a switchblade. He flicks it open, the thin blade glinting as he slices through the leather straps and fabric, shearing away the shirt and pants in tatters that pool on the floor. Your bare skin is exposed to the air while you gasp at his movements.
“I’ll order you a new uniform,” he says hoarsely, eyes devouring your newly revealed body. Your nipples harden under his stare. He tosses the blade aside and climbs onto the bed, caging you with his body, voice dropping to a ragged plea laced with command. “But right now, I just need you.”
Levi wastes no time in claiming you fully, his body covering yours as he notches the thick head of his cock at your dripping entrance. He thrusts in with a single, brutal rut of his hips that buries him to the hilt inside your clenching heat. The stretch burns deliciously as your walls yield to his girth amid a shared gasp that fills the spare bedroom.
His movements immediately devolve into a messy, frantic rhythm, hips pistoning erratically as sweaty skin slaps against skin, the bed frame groaning under the onslaught while he captures your mouth in a sloppy kiss, tongue plunging deep to mimic his cock’s desperate invasions, all needy swipes and bitten lips that leave you both breathless and marked.
You arch beneath him, nails raking down his back as pleasure sparks through your core with every uneven thrust. His messy pace grinds his pubic bone against your clit in erratic bursts that have you moaning into his mouth.
Levi breaks the kiss to pant against your neck, words tumbling out in a needy torrent between grunts, his voice raw and cracking as he drives deeper. “Fuck you feel so good. Better than I imagined. Your pussy’s sucking me in. Gods, I need you. I need this tight little hole wrapped around me.”
He hooks your legs over his shoulders then, folding you nearly in half with surprising strength. His hands grip your thighs as leverage to plunge even deeper, the new angle slamming his cock against that sweet spot inside you with every frantic withdrawal and snap back in, balls slapping wetly against your ass while the room fills with the obscene symphony of his needy whimpers and your rising cries.
His first orgasm builds blindingly fast amid the chaos, body tensing as he buries himself impossibly deep, crying out a broken “Shit—cumming—” before flooding your pussy with his ropes of pleasure. Your inner walls flutter around the pulsing heat of him, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow. He hovers over you on trembling arms while whimpers and animalistic grunts spill from his throat, hips maintaining their rough, relentless grind as if possessed, chasing even more through the oversensitivity.
He’s still so hard, still burning. He has to keep fucking you to make it better. His emotions are a tangle of selfish hunger and an unexpected urge to give back. His fingers slide down between your joined bodies to find your swollen clit, rubbing firm circles over the nub.
It catches you off guard amid the haze. You thought he would just use you and be done with you, but he’s taking care of you in this shitty situation. You have to stop yourself from fully letting yourself feel the flutter in your stomach.
Pleasure coils tighter until his skilled fingers, syncing with the drag of his cock stretching you anew, slick with his first load. The dual assault shatters you both simultaneously—your orgasm tearing through you like wildfire, pussy convulsing wildly around him as you scream his name. Tears prick your lashes. Levi follows with a guttural whine, his second release pumping even more cum deep into your spasming depths, overflowing to trickle down your thighs as he collapses half atop you. His forehead presses to yours, both of you shuddering in the afterglow.
But he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop.
Levi shows no signs of relenting even after his second climax. His body is a machine fueled by the otherworldly essence of the flower. He rolls you onto your side and hitches your top leg over his hip, sliding back into your cum-slick pussy with a wet squelch that draws twin moans from you. His thrusts regain their frantic rhythm, almost immediately while your skin slides together in the humid confines of his bedroom.
The hours blur into an endless cycle of raw, needy coupling that leaves the sheets twisted and soaked beneath you. He can’t get enough. Your body is his salvation. Every clench pulls him deeper, and he has to keep going until he breaks. You cling to him, your mind a whirl of exhausted bliss.
Time loses meaning as he maneuvers you through position after position, the night deepening outside. At one fevered peak, amidst a slower grind where he spoons behind you, his teeth sink into the fleshy curve of your shoulder in a possessive bite that marks your skin red. The sharp pain spikes your arousal higher as you cry out, nails scoring his skin in retaliation while he growls against the bite—Mine—taste her, feel her shudder—fuck, perfect. Later, while he’s pounding deep on top of you with circling hips, he captures your hands in his, linking your fingers with his before stretching your arms above your head and pinning them to the mattress. He whispers hotly into your ear, “You’re so perfect,” the words laced with needy reverence that pierces your heart. Your body responds with a fresh gush of wetness that eases his relentless slides.
Hours stretch on without pause, Levi’s stamina inhuman under the pollen’s curse. He flips you atop him for you to ride while he bucks upward, then he bends you over the bed’s edge for brutal from-behind thrusts that shake the frame.
Your orgasms stack upon one another until you’re a trembling, hoarse mess of please and whimpers. Every nerve is alight while his dirty litany evolves into softer avowals of need—“Need you like this forever, so good for me, taking everything”—his internal world fracturing under gratitude.
You’re a gift for saving him from his madness. He doesn’t deserve you—but fuck if he’ll let go of you.
Finally, as the first hints of pre-dawn grey filter through the window after hours of non-stop fucking, Levi’s body betrays him mid-thrust, muscles seizing in total exhaustion despite his cock remaining stubbornly hard and twitching inside you; he collapses forward onto the mattress beside you, chest heaving, utterly spent physically even as the fire simmers unquenched. He pulls you close in a rare moment of limp vulnerability.
After a merciful hour-long break where you both lie entangled in sated stupor, breaths syncing in the quiet, Levi stirs with renewed vigor for round two. The aphrodisiac grants him one final surge as he claims you missionary-style once more, slower now but no less intense, drawing out mutual climaxes that leave you limp before he slumps again. The pair of you have fucked well into the night until the total span from the flower’s betrayal clocks nearly eight grueling hours.
Levi lies next to you in the rumpled bed, body finally cooling as the unnatural heat ebbs away like a receding tide. His erection softens at long last while clarity returns to his steel-grey eyes. He turns to you with a soft exhale, murmuring, “It’s finally gone. The aphrodisiac wore off,” but you offer no response.
Levi looks over to see you dead asleep beside him, face slack with utter depletion, lashes fanned over flushed cheeks and lips parted in peaceful exhaustion. A deep sigh escapes him, his emotions cresting in a quiet wave of affection and regret-tinged protectiveness.
He looks at you. You wrecked him and wrecked yourself for him. He didn’t expect this… connection. At first, he was speaking needy nonsense. But somewhere, between the hours, he found himself desiring you in a way deeper than some flower’s curse willed him to. You cared enough to help. Most people would have walked away. You care, and it affects him more than it should. But that’s something he’ll worry about later. For now, he wants you to rest. You’ve earned it.
He draws the thin blanket over your entwined forms, leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead before he settles back, eyes drifting shut to claim sleep at last.
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