nizza, in her 30s and still head over heels in love with fictional men. this is an aot/gachiakuta-centered sideblog, tho i do share about genshin and other stuff too. i also write fics, mostly for levi and enjin. i don't take requests, but my ask is open if you want to chat! :)
this blog contains nsfw content and majority of the fics i write or will share contain smut. read/interact at your own discretion.
@levievent's LeviNSFW26 day 01: postwar + age difference
⋆˙⟡ levi didn't really need an assistant at the tea shop…
⋆˙⟡ postwar!Levi x Marleyan ex-soldier fem!reader. 4.2k words. NSFW. age difference, a little background for the reader, blowjobs, cum eating, semi-public (stockroom), handjobs, giving levi a bath/showering together, unprotected piv, cowgirl and creampie (mentioned)
uggghhh took me a while to get back to writing. i've completely lost confidence in my writing (myself, in general) the past month, been so demotivated because of it while also so drained at work :( anyways, i hope you all still like this even if i dont lol honestly, i wasn't going to post this if it weren't for @aphroditaeon (she believes in me more than i myself😂) 🫶❤️ thank you, as always, for being my number one supporter!!! <333
read on AO3 | masterlist | divider by @uzmacchiato
Levi doesn’t need an assistant at the tea shop. It’s barely been a year since it opened! He can count in both hands his regulars and most days are slow since there are plenty of other more established tea shops around and cafes that offer the so-called ‘coffee’ drink that the younger generation seem to prefer. But Gabi was persistent. Said you were good at chores and that you would be a big help at managing the shop. Even used the “her landlady would evict her if she missed another rent payment” guilt card which forced him to agree. That wasn’t his concern, still isn’t, but as people say: third time’s a charm—fortunately for Gabi (and you) and unfortunately for him. Twice he was able to say no, but the third, he couldn’t anymore. Not when Gabi brought you with her. Not when the way you looked at him made him weak in his already-weak-knees. He didn’t understand it then and he still doesn’t until now.
And he definitely can’t fathom how or why he’s in the stock room, slouched on a stool, thighs trembling, head thrown back against a jar of tea leaves, and mouth open in a breathy sigh while his cock slides in and out of your mouth.
He’s not going to lie, you really are good at maintaining the cleanliness of the shop. You even donated potted plants to make the shop look appealing and a phonograph to play classical songs in the background, bringing color and life to the place. It’s only been six months since you started, yet you’ve already brought so much life to the shop (read: to his life), so much more than he ever could and would. There’s not one bad thing he could say about you, not one reason to fire you. You need not be told what to do, always ready to greet the customers with a smile (something he isn’t good at), prepared to help them choose which tea to drink (which, to his surprise, you know a lot of), serve orders right after they’re made, and clean up after the customers left. You’d wash the used teacups without being told, wipe them dry, and organize them on the overhead cupboards just the way he prefers. It didn’t take him long to realize he’s been watching you (and enjoying it) from behind the counter all this time.
And you are so, so good at making him feel good. So fucking nice to look at when you’re on the ground and between his knees, your calloused fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking him slowly while you suck at the head. He forces himself to look at you, eyes half-lidded, his cheeks a faint red, and it always catches him off-guard, makes him choke out a gasp, when he finds you already looking at him. A hum escapes his throat at the sight of your smile around his cock, his eyes rolling back so hard when your lips wrap around his head.
He breathes your name out, setting his eyes on you again. “Go deeper,” he murmurs.
You prop yourself up with your forearms on his thighs, careful not to hurt his knee. He grabs at the shelves on each side of him, gripping so hard his fingers turn white, still unable to make himself touch you with his disgusting hands. You let go of his cock, and he chokes out a moan, head hitting the jars on his back when you take all of him into your mouth, deep down your throat that your nose touches his stomach and you twitch and gag on his head. A sharp pain tears through his knee when his hips buck up in reflex, thrusting his dick further despite already hitting the back of your throat. You pull back with a loud gasp and an admonishing laugh that makes him sigh out another cuss. Levi watches you caressing his thighs. You’re staring back at him, tongue stuck out and pressed against the frenulum of his cock, your hands momentarily sliding up his pelvis and under the fabric of his shirt while his cock disappears into your mouth once more.
“Fuck—” he utters weakly, body shuddering as his cockhead hits the back of your throat.
He can’t believe he’s once again allowed himself to be this pathetic disabled man so easily reduced to a whimpering mess by a girl fifteen years younger than him. How can he let you do this? And in his tea shop, for that matter! How can he disgrace you and his little tea shop?!
How the heck are you so good? How the heck do you look so fucking good with your mouth around his cock?
“Fuck,” he sighs, thighs shaking, the coils in his belly starting to tighten. Your fingers wrap around his girth once more, stroking him while you kiss down his length, earning a twitch from his cock and a stream of pre-cum leaking from the slit. “I think I’m—”
“Please, Captain,” you cut him off, smiling prettily. Knowingly. He loves it when you call him that, you can tell. Even when he says he’s not that person anymore.
“Shit!” His toes curl in his shoes.
You grab at his hips, bracing yourself as you take him back into your mouth. He cries out a moan, and when his head hits your uvula and your throat tightens around him from another gag, the coil in his stomach finally snaps. His body shudders as a huge wave of pleasure takes over. You pull back slightly, fingers immediately wrapping around the base, stroking him hard and fast while you suck the cum right out his twitching cock. Suck harder and his soul might also leave his body. Levi bucks his hips once, twice, and stops when the pain in his knee becomes too much. He lets out a whimper, though he’s unsure if it’s because of the pain, or the pleasure, or the desperation to fill your throat until you’re choking on his cum. You giggle around him, eventually pulling away once he’s finished. Levi lets out a breathy sigh, tired yet very satisfied, as he watches the movement in your throat when you swallow.
Smiling, you wipe the corner of your mouth for a little show. “You good?”
“Yeah,” he answers, breathless. “Are you?”
You nod. “Felt good?”
“Yes.” No doubt about that.
You stand up. He straightens up in his seat when you begin to unzip your pants.
“Brat,” he utters, alarmed. He knows where this is going. You’re going to ride him next, and it wouldn’t even take him five minutes before he’s cumming again.
With the boots you’re wearing, you struggle a little to step out of your pants and underwear. It’s one of the things he likes about you: the not-so-fancy clothes or dresses (not that he’s going to ever say that out loud—at least, not yet).
“What?” you chuckle. “A good soldier should be rewarded, right?”
“Yes, but—” The words die in his throat when you sit on his lap. His hands immediately find your waist, keeping you still.
You lightly poke his nose before draping your arms over his shoulders. “Never had a girl go head over heels for you when you were younger?” A rhetorical question, one you always ask when you’re doing this with him. You know he would’ve had a line of women vying for his attention. You’re sure he was famous not just because he was Captain of a squad. Even until now, despite the broken eye and the scar on his face, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes upon.
But Levi sighs, quietly as if he doesn’t want you hearing it. There’s a sad smile on his face, almost regretful, that you would’ve missed if you aren’t looking closely.
“I didn’t know,” he says, thumbs lightly brushing your hips. “With the threat of titans and all the fighting to survive, I didn’t have time for such things.”
Your shoulders drop. Levi lost half of his life battling monsters because of your people. Because of you. You begin to wonder how he could keep you with him at the shop. By his side. You can’t understand how he could still look at you so gently like you weren’t someone who killed his people during the war.
A gentle squeeze on your hips pulls you back to reality.
“You’re in there again,” he murmurs knowingly.
You shrug it off, then respond with a coy smile, “well, now you’ve got all the time in the world.” He only hums, and you take that as a positive response and begin rolling your hips, rubbing your wetness against his cock. “And we’ll make every second of it count.”
His hands trail up, staying at your waist. “I’m too old for you.”
You pause just to click your tongue at him, as if scolding a child. “Only I get to say that.”
“It’s true though,” he insists.
Pressing your foreheads together, you resume rolling your hips into his. “Fifteen years isn’t a lot.” You place a chaste kiss on his lips.
“You do know how much fifteen years is, don’t you?” he chuckles.
A loud knock from the main door startles the two of you. Levi glances at his wristwatch.
“They aren’t supposed to be back in another hour!” you cry out, pulling yourself away from him. “Ugh!”
Gabi’s shouting outside, calling your name and Levi’s. You quickly put back your underwear and pants on, glancing at Levi as he pushes himself up from the chair. You hurry over to help him pull his pants up to his waist.
“Go. Tell them we’re stocking up the shelves.”
You look over at the boxes of tea, none of which are open.
“Five minutes.” You close the door behind you.
Levi straightens his clothes and starts unboxing, get things moving even a little bit. Outside the stockroom, he hears you asking the trio how their days went, making small talks. You discuss your plan for dinner, a little belated celebration for Falco’s birthday. It doesn’t take long before Gabi’s asking about Levi while walking towards the stockroom.
“Hey, old man,” she calls over to the man in question, who has just opened the second box. “Let’s get going! It’s the weekend!”
“It’s only Friday,” he answers.
“Friday night,” she points out.
Levi glances at his watch. “Ten minutes to four.”
“Come on, Grandpa,” Gabi chuckles, rolling her eyes. “You need to relax sometimes!”
Huh. He does need to relax after what you’ve done to him. He could still feel his heart hammering in his chest after his last orgasm!
“I’ll just finish this second box,” he answers with a sigh.
“Falco’s gonna help with the rest of the boxes!” Gabi volunteers, turning to the boy in question. “Right, Falco?”
“Of course,” he answers in a “do-I-get-a-choice” sigh.
Thirty minutes later, your group heads out to a steakhouse downtown, where you wait for another half hour before a table big enough to accommodate your group is cleared. You each get a steak meal, fruit juices for the kids, and a bottle of wine for yourself, Levi, and Onyankopon. A simple celebration. Quiet, but a happy one. Gabi recounts memories when she and Falco were still with the Warriors, birthdays they celebrated with Udo and Zofia. There is bitterness in her voice even though she’s smiling through her stories. You hate reminiscing. There’s nothing nice to remember when you were still in the military, not when the only friend you had died in battle. It was your fault after all. He may still be alive if only you didn’t run away. He may still be alive if you took him with you when you ran away.
You have been selfish. You still are, choosing to show up before Levi everyday despite knowing you were once with the people who made their lives a living hell.
“So, tell us what you’re grateful for, Falco!” Gabi’s voice pulls you out of your thought bubble.
You glance in Levi’s way, realizing he’s watching. He must’ve noticed you zoning out, knows what thoughts are in your head. You look away, pretending to stir your wine.
Falco’s reluctant for a moment. “Well… I am grateful that we are all here and that you remembered my… my birthday,” his voice cracks, tears clouding his vision. “It’s been a while since we’ve celebrated this peacefully.”
“Aww, you’re such a cry-baby!” Gabi teases. “What else?”
“That’s it,” he sniffles.
“That’s it?!” She complains.
“A-huh. Your turn.”
“What? It isn’t my birthday!”
“It isn’t, but the birthday celebrant wants to hear what you all have to say too,” Falco says with a chuckle, looking at each of you across the table.
Gabi smacks her forehead, earning a laugh from Onyankopon, who volunteers to go next. He says he’s grateful for the food and that he got a job to keep himself from starving and to keep a roof over his head. Then, he passes the spotlight to you.
You know what to say but somehow, the words won’t come out. You don’t want to ruin the mood, but besides the fact that you get to do whatever you’re doing with Levi—which, you obviously can’t disclose to anyone around the table—the only other thing you are grateful for is that…
“...I ran away,” you say, almost inaudible. Then, you look up, meeting Levi’s eyes, and in a louder voice you continue, “if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here with you all. What I did was a disgrace, but I’m glad I did it.” You swallow, remembering your late friend. “Somehow,” you added shakily, unsure suddenly, shame immediately eating up your insides.
“You still fought,” Falco points out. “And you kept us safe. Remember?”
“Mhm!” Gabi agrees eagerly. “You looked after our families!”
You nod, although weakly, as if you aren’t convinced yourself.
“None of you kids should’ve been there,” Onyankopon adds.
There’s a bitter smile on your lips when you turn to him. “I’m no kid. I’m twenty-five.” But you understand him. You were nineteen when you were conscripted. No one at that age should’ve experienced being in the frontlines of war.
“You did what you had to do to live,” says Gabi. “We all did.”
You shrug, turning back to Levi. “Not so good a soldier, am I?”
He doesn’t answer. You know he thinks otherwise. He always tells you what you did isn’t wrong. That you should’ve had a choice back then.
He holds your gaze for a moment, and knowing it’s his turn without you having to voice it out, he says, “I’m grateful that we are all here celebrating.”
“Come on, you can do better than that,” Gabi protests.
Levi looks at her, unbothered. “Your turn.”
Gabi purses her lips. And then, she sighs and smiles softly. “We made it out alive.”
“That’s it?” Falco counters.
“That’s it!” She raises her glass of juice. “Cheers to us!”
That’s something you all easily agree with. Glasses raise and clinks together for a toast to what’s ahead and to the birthday celebrant.
They’re right. What matters is you being here. You are alive. What’s done is done, and you only did what you had to do to stay alive. You will forever bear the guilt of running away, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy anymore.
The day ends sooner than you would’ve wanted. You and Levi part ways from Onyankopon, Gabi, and Falco, whose houses are in the opposite direction. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, closing the space between you and Levi after looking behind you to confirm the trio are out of eyeshot. You shove your hands into your pockets, kick at the thin sheet of snow that covers the ground, before latching onto Levi’s arm.
“So cold,” you chuckle.
“Take my scarf.”
You squeeze his arm. “I’m good. Thank you.”
The two of you walk in silence, side by side, until you finally reach your house.
Standing at your doorstep, you turn to face him with a shy smile. “It’d be nice to have someone to cuddle with on this cold night.”
“Just ask, brat,” he says with an eyeroll and a chuckle.
You open the door and take his hand. “You should come in.”
And he does, closing the door behind him. You kiss him slowly, your cold hands trailing up his chest and hooking over his shoulders. It’s so quiet all you hear is the sound of your lips against his, none of his breathing nor yours, for time seems to have stopped and with it your lungs from needing air. He is your oxygen, your blood. Everything you need. He gently wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Pulling away slightly, you smile at his pink cheeks and smoldering eyes.
“Stay for the night,” you hum, touching his cheek. Warm. They feel so nice against your fingers.
“We both had drinks.”
“Nothing will happen,” you promise.
You both know that’s a lie.
You take his hand and turn to face… the stairs. “Shit. I forgot.”
“I didn’t.” He squeezes your hand. Reassuring. “Go start heating water. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“I can still walk, brat,” he points out, no heat in his voice.
You let out a little cheer before placing a peck on his lips and then heading upstairs.
He steps out of his shoes, pushing them aside by the main door, which he makes sure is locked before following you upstairs. Levi tries not to be negatively affected by it, but it still takes him almost a minute to climb just an eight-step staircase. Forty six seconds, to be exact, for just eight steps. For fuck’s sake.
He’s not the kind of man you should be with.
When you come out of the bathroom, you’re humming to a song, dressed in just your plum sweater and underwear, walking into your room to get a pair of sleepwear for you and Levi. He takes a moment to catch his breath and lets the burning sensation in his knee subside. You always remind him to be patient with himself. Healing and recovering takes time, you always say, and you’ve always been patient with him even when he’s too much of a burden. You deserve better.
But he can’t leave you. Whatever it is he feels for you, he feels so intensely, he can’t bring himself to walk away.
“You good?”
He lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah.”
You hug the clothes and towels against your chest and take his hand, leading him to the bathroom. You help him undress, unbuttoning his trench coat, taking his shirt off, then his slacks, underwear, and socks. He watches you fold them neatly on the counter before starting the shower, letting the water run for a few seconds until steam fills the bathroom and clouds the mirror. You help him step into the bath with you, enjoying a short moment of comfort under the hot water that pours over your heads and down your bodies. When it’s time to bathe, he leans back against the wall while you scratch his hair to wet it thoroughly. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why he doesn’t want to go: he likes how you take care of him. He likes this kind of affection.
It feels so nice he wants time to stop so he could be with you for as long as possible. You always make him feel that way.
Maybe it isn’t so bad to want to be cared for the rest of his life.
He places his good hand on your back, the one with complete fingers, letting it sit at the top of your bum. You take a step closer, right thigh between his thighs, so close that it rubs against his cock whenever you move. He keeps his eyes glued to yours. You stare back, a ghost of a smile curling your lips. You know what you’re doing to him, what each barely-there contact does, sending jolts up his belly, rousing his body from sleep. The first twitch comes when you scratch at his undercut, and he barely manages to suppress the moan that escapes his mouth.
“Don’t tease,” he groans, and you only laugh. A bit late for that, because by the time you’re done washing the soap from his body, his cock’s already up.
“You sure you don’t want to?” You ask with a lilt in your voice.
No. He swallows down the word and says, “let’s not waste water.”
You chuckle. “Okay, gramps. Your back, please.”
He turns around, hands pressed on the wall for support. He notices the holes.
“What are these for?”
“Oh…” you hesitate, but you know there’s no point in keeping it from him. “I was going to install handrails for you to hold onto at times like this.”
His lips part, but nothing comes out of his mouth. Why would you do that? Why would you go through such lengths for him?
You pull closer, pressing your body to his, arms wrapped around his body. “Don’t you like it?” You ask, thinking his silence must’ve meant he disliked the gesture.
“I— I do… I appreciate it,” he forces out. “But you didn’t have to.”
“Didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” You place a kiss at the nape of his neck. Your left hand inches up his left pectoral, while the other takes his cock and starts stroking it. “It’ll help especially when I do this.”
“Shit—” He murmurs your name.
“Hmm?” You twirl his nipple in your fingers, pulling at it to stiffen. “How about this? Do you like it?”
“Y–yeah…” So much that his knees almost give out when your fingers focus on the head of his cock, stroking deliberately in a circular motion.
“I knew you would,” you murmur with another chuckle, pressing your thumb against the frenulum and then dragging it up the slit, drawing out some precum. That also pulls out a whimper from him and causes his hips to jerk back, which, unfortunately, sends a sharp pain down his bad knee.
Levi says your name in warning. You pull back with an apology.
Fuck. Fuck! He should be the one apologizing.
He shifts his weight on his other leg, but the discomfort in his knee wouldn’t go away.
You grab the soap and start cleaning his back. “Sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You did not.” He turns his face to look you in the eyes.
That brings a smile to your lips as you continue to wash his back, all the way down to his legs and feet. He still can’t believe how you’re patient with him, how you make things so much easier for him without asking anything in return.
How did he get this lucky? Does he even deserve this? Does he deserve you?
When you’re done with his back, you ask him to face you once more so you could wash his front thoroughly. He turns without a word, then pulls you into a hug.
“Oh,” you chuckle, hugging him back. For a moment, it’s just the sound of the shower that can be heard until you look up at him to ask “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says, even when all he wants to say—to ask for—is that you never get tired of him. “Do you have the rails? Let’s install them tomorrow.”
You smile widely, and it steals his breath away.
When he’s all rinsed, he steps out of the shower to start drying himself with a towel. He watches you wash the shampoo off your hair, his heart swelling with emotions while thoughts race in his mind. He wishes he could do the same to you: wash your hair for you, scrub your body clean, fuck you under the shower, make you cum with his fingers, make you cum some more with his mouth (and his cock, if only his knees could handle his weight.)
He wants to be better for you, but he knows he can’t rush himself to heal. He does have to be patient with himself like you are with him.
“Did I forget anything?” you ask, realizing he’s still in the bathroom.
He shakes his head and starts getting dressed. “I’ll wait for you in bed.”
“Be there in a few minutes.”
Levi prepares the bed for the two of you—that’s the least he could do. And when you finally join him fifteen minutes later, he no longer stops you when you pull his trousers and briefs down and then lay on your stomach between his legs. He watches you closely as you kiss his still soft cock, nuzzling the head with your nose before taking him and stroking him with your mouth, so slowly until he’s hard as a rock and he comes. He doesn’t stop you when you mount him (he does choke out a ‘wait!’, but doesn’t get the chance to ask if you still have pills because you’re already taking him back inside you with your other set of lips). He doesn’t stop himself when he grabs your waist gently, a reminder that he’s got you should you get tired. He doesn’t stop you when you lean forward, pressing him down on the bed with your hands on his chest, as your hips move fast and your moans grow louder, more desperate, even louder, until you’re a twitching and whimpering mess on top of him.
And he doesn’t resist when he says he’s cumming and you tell him to do it inside you.
this fees like it's the first ever fic i've written 😩 hope you all enjoyed it! day2 fic should be ready in the next few days, fingers crossed
here are my (very) late entries to @levievent's LeviNSFW26 event. also posted on ao3. links will be uploaded as fics are posted.
main masterlist | divider by @uzmacchiato
⋆˙⟡ day 01: postwar + age difference — sorry, we're closed
levi didn't really need an assistant at the tea shop…
⋆˙⟡ day 02: royalty + voyeurism — can you keep a secret?
you meet levi on a blind date — one that you think went perfectly fine until he said he doesn't intend to see you again.
so, why is he with a dozen other men vying for your hand in marriage a week after?
⋆˙⟡ day 04: bodyguard + pornstar — (un)professional
levi just scored his highest paying gig. the fact that you're the client is a bonus.
⋆˙⟡ day 05: fwb — off-duty
captain levi knows better than to mess with another squad captain, let alone a captain from the military police.
but you're the only one that helps when everything else doesn't.
⋆˙⟡ day 06: mythology — my galatea
pros of being a sculptor with an art curator friend: levi gets to showcase his talent.
cons of being a sculptor with an art curator friend: levi has to showcase his talent.
or: in which, hange challenged levi to carve the woman of his dreams (and showcase it in erwin's new museum)
@levievent's LeviNSFW26 ➺ day 1: postwar | age difference | spanking
featuring: levi ackerman x fem!reader
word count: 1.6k
contents: n/sfw, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, post-canon, implied age difference, spanking, fingering, unprotected piv sex, outdoor sex, angst/fluff
a/n: please excuse my writing skills in this one. i am not a poet, and that is painfully evident here (in that the poem featured in this fic is a complete mess of prose and half-assed symbolism)
read it on ao3 | levinsfw26 masterlist | full masterlist
It was supposed to be a tame outing. Just a picnic in the afternoon at the place you and Levi helped to remake. The trees planted the prior spring had taken well, and before either of you knew it, a full year had come and gone. The world was in blossom again, in little ways that belied the calamity that had overtaken the land not so long ago.
You’d taken a basket, filled it with a tin of biscuits and Levi’s favorite tea. Because it was you who insisted on the stroll, you had carried the refreshments the whole way yourself as Levi ambled beside you, one hand on his cane. Now, you were sprawled across his lap, tea and biscuits half-consumed, with your hands quivering around the book of poems you’d pulled out to read from.
The scene was anything but tame.
You stuttered over the last few words of the stanza you were on. As you read, Levi had slid his left hand from where it rested innocently at the base of your spine, down over the curve of your ass. He had slipped beneath the skirt of the pale sundress you chose that morning, knowing full well what wearing it did to him, fingers splaying and molding to the shape of you. You glanced at him, your lashes low as you shifted your hips with intention beneath the press of his palm.
“Didn’t tell you to stop.” Levi’s voice scraped, barely above a whisper. “Keep going.”
With a dry, breathless laugh, you went on.
“What quiet and nameless thing has come
to take from him the iron shape of purpose?
That which unthreads the sinew from command
That which loosens the vow from bone
No trumpet followsno heaven-split acclaim—”
His fingers had become bold and searching, pushing their way between your thighs to knead you over your underwear. The sun warmed the backs of your thighs as the hem of your sundress rode up, bunching at his wrist.
“What field could bear—”
You tripped over the words again. Levi was peeling back the straps of your dress to bare your shoulders. The neckline was tugged down, spilling your breasts into the afternoon air. A tremor went through you as he pressed his lips to your shoulder blade, the poem momentarily forgotten while he kissed a line up to the hollow beneath your ear.
“What field could bear?” he coaxed roughly.
The book trembled in your hands, words blurring into sameness, and you barely managed the next lines.
“What field could bear him now
without asking for blood?
What sky could hold him—”
Your breath left you in a soft gasp as Levi cupped one breast in his palm, his remaining digits closing around the nipple and drawing it into an aching, almost painful peak. You pressed your thighs unconsciously together, feeling the insistent pressure of Levi’s other hand between them. He slid his touch past the flimsy barrier of your underwear to slick his fingers in the dampness quickly accumulating at your core.
“What sky could hold him
without measuring the arc of his fall?
The wind does not salute him
the grass does not kneel—
You let out a startled moan as Levi sank two fingers into you.
“You can do better than that,” he murmured.
Your laugh was soft and trembling. “You’re distracting.”
“That’s the idea.” He started pumping his fingers in an agonizingly unhurried rhythm. “Go on. You’re halfway through, anyway.”
Frantically, your eyes searched the page.
“and the sun lays its indifferent gold upon his face
It does not ask him to remember
nor to forget
only to remain
The weapon aches in absence
the phantom weight of it
still humming in his hands—
“Oh!” you gasped, arching as he curled his fingers inside you, the heel of his hand grinding insistently against you.
You barely registered the loss of Levi’s fingers as they withdrew before his palm cracked against the soft flesh of your ass. A yelp flew from your lips at the sting, the shock of it bright as it reverberated through you. You clutched the book tight before it could slip from your hands.
Levi tutted quietly. “Mess it up again, and you’ll have to start from the beginning.”
“The beginning?” you whimpered.
“Where else,” he said with a small huff of amusement.
Your breath was a shaky exhale, the page trembling between your fingers.
“The weapon aches in absence
the phantom weight of it
still humming in his hands
but the hands do not close; They open
Return not to the fire
Return not to the shattered command—”
Crack.
The words on the page swam as Levi brought his palm down again over your tender, smarting skin. The sound of it echoed over the empty golden field, but you forced yourself not to stumble through sheer will.
“Return instead to the unmarked path
where no one is waiting to be saved
The ghosts sit beside him
quiet as breath
quiet as the stubborn act of continuing—”
“Easy,” Levi rasped, punctuating the word with another ruthless smack before gently palming you, soothing what he’d marked. “Not too fast, now.”
You swallowed, shuddering against him.
“And the man, no longer sharpened,
does not vanish
He lingers
uncertain as first light—”
He tugged your underwear down, the fabric momentarily tangling at your thighs before being discarded somewhere behind him. His hand returned swiftly, thumb circling your clit as you blindly rushed through the final lines in disarray.
“O quiet world,
how strange thy gentleness feels
to one who was forged for ending
He lays the past down
as something finished
And in that unguarded hour
with no song of war to carry him
he learns how to stay
he learns how to be.”
“Good girl,” Levi said, and the book toppled to the ground as his fingers guided you to your climax.
Your legs trembled as you cried out his name. You were still pulsing and dazed when he flipped you over and slotted his hips between your thighs. Levi drank in the sight of you, skirt bunched haphazardly around your waist, breasts bared to the sunlight, as he made quick work of freeing his cock.
He groaned, sheathing his thick length in your swollen, fluttering cunt in one bruising thrust. His patience had long since worn thin, and he could already feel himself leaking inside you.
You had deliberately kept your pace tempered the whole walk out here. For his sake, he knew. The ground here was serviceably even, enough for the use of his cane, but it didn’t sit well with him that you had shortened your stride for him. Or that you had carried the blanket and basket without asking. Levi had suddenly felt very aware of himself. The stiffness in his leg. The dull, persistent ache that never fully left, no matter how much time passed. The way his body no longer responded with the same immediacy it once had. How it lagged and resisted. Used and worn down. He knew that would not change. Time would not reverse what had been done to it. He would not regain what had been lost. He was older now, but you were still in the bloom of life. He did not understand why, out of all the others, you chose to stay here with him. All he knew was that he had to show you how much he wanted you still—how much your nearness meant, despite everything that had changed and withered in him.
The old pain radiated stubbornly up his thigh as he began to move, but he gritted his teeth and rocked into you, savoring the sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips as he fucked you into the blanket. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him in. Levi ducked his head, pressing his mouth to your neck to feel the urgent flutter of your pulse.
“Fuck—Levi—”
He held your thighs unyieldingly open, feeling your knees shake. He felt you climax again, and the sensation of your cunt milking his cock, the scent of your skin, the soft pleading of your voice, all swept over him until every fragment of shame inside him scattered and dissolved in the heat of release.
Levi spilled inside you with a ragged groan, then kissed you languidly as he shuddered through the aftershocks. His arms trembled slightly as he braced himself above you, the harshness of breath slowly gentling between you. Flushed, he rested his brow against yours.
“God,” you sighed, smiling sleepily up at him. “I think you and I have very different ideas about what a picnic is.”
He huffed a breath, the laugh caught somewhere between his chest and throat. You wished he knew he didn’t have anything to prove to you, but of course, you would never say so. His need was always palpable in moments like these. It made something in you go fiercely tender—a soft ache blooming in your chest.
You touched his cheek, fingers tracing the scar along his lip, and his eyes fell closed. “Levi.”
He didn’t answer.
“Look at me.”
His jaw flexed as he obeyed. He found your eyes steady upon his.
“I’m happy,” you said.
The words were almost matter-of-fact, as if happiness were not a thing to be marveled at but simply the state of things. You might have said the sky was blue, or that the grass was soft beneath you. Levi studied you uncertainly, searching for any sign of pretense. There was none to be found.
He wanted to tell you that you deserved better than this fractured peace. He wanted, even more, to believe you. The hush of sunlit grass closed around you. He let his jaw relax.
tags: War God Levi, he already is one in canon let’s make that literal, Empress Reader, ritual sex, mild choking, vaginal sex, creampie, situation may seem dubious but it’s not really. empress immediately wants to get wifed up, happy ending (as always)
Only a miracle could save you now - a miracle in the form of a man clad in black armor, holding the power to grant it all, a bloodthirsty deity, the God of War.
Please pick only 10 from each category: kink, AU, duo prompts HERE. The voting will last 4 days and will conclude on June 1st, when the announcement will happen.
Reblogs are much appreciated - and reminder to please refrain from voting multiple times, that just creates more work for me to go through to figure things out and delays the process.
[Everyone who reads Gachiakuta will probably understand this, but I also don’t really want to spoil what happens. I’m just tense and hoping for the next chapter. Enjin, please, the children miss you. This took way too long.]
This artwork is mine. Do not repost it somewhere, or claim it as your own. Reblogs are appreciated!
