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Mikasa collapsed into the plush armchair, exhausted from her travel and the time difference between Paradis and Marley. Armin’s office became a quiet sanctuary after the hectic trip. A sanctuary that was most welcome considering how seldom Mikasa had been around other people in the years since the war ended.
Her eyes scanned the room curiously, flicking from the desk to the bookshelves that lined every wall, carrying not only large, leather-bound volumes and maps but also souvenirs and gifts from his time as an ambassador. One shelf, in particular, caught her eye—a line of boxes arrayed in a row with small figures on display inside. Her inquisitive nature beat out her exhaustion, and Mikasa hauled herself out of the chair to examine the strange boxes more closely.
As she wandered up to the shelf, her brows furrowed, and she scoffed. Why the hell did Armin have these tiny, bizarre figures of them? And even a version of Eren? She reached out a hand to pick one up. The door swung open, and she withdrew her hand, nearly jumping out of her skin at Armin’s entrance. Mikasa grimaced; she must be losing her edge because she didn’t even hear his footsteps.
Armin embraced her, and she held him just as tightly. Being separated in the intervening years had been painful; she missed her best friend. As they released each other, Mikasa pointed to the shelf. “What are those?” she teased.
He rubbed the back of his head, shifting uneasily. “Well, the people here consider us heroes. So they made these mini statues of us, and the man who created them gifted me a full set after I agreed to help him get some details right.”
“They made dolls? And you helped?” Mikasa deadpanned.
“It was just with some details like the uniforms, heights and measurements, and stuff,” he defended.
Sensing weakness and the opportunity to tease him, Mikasa grinned. “So, how did you get all the girls' measurements, or was it just a good guess?”
Armin flushed, waving his hands to ward off the accusation. “It’s not like that! I was the one who used to requisition uniforms, remember?”
Giving him a sidelong glance and a smirk, Mikasa reminded him, “You never requisitioned a uniform for Annie or Pieck.”
Sighing, Armin looked at Mikasa with pleading eyes. “You’ve only been here five minutes, and you’re already giving me hell.,” he said, shaking his head ruefully. He picked up the box that contained her figure and passed it over to her. “I had a single one made of Eren, too—from before we went to Liberio, and it all went to hell. It didn’t seem right not to have him despite it all.”
She turned the likeness of herself in her hands, this way and that, looking at it from all angles. The resemblance was uncanny and more than a little disconcerting. Hurriedly, she put the box back and picked up the next one over. Glancing at it only to realize this one was their former Captain. She grinned, noticing it was shorter than the rest. So the dolls were to scale then, she thought with mirth.
Armin caught her grin and offered, “You can open it if you want. They even have a change of clothes inside.” He gestured for her to keep the box and sit with him in the comfy chairs.
She settled down and carefully opened the box, taking out the statue and resting it on her leg. Reaching back in, Mikasa took out a small wooden stand with a tiny drawer. The level of detail on the miniature items of clothing impressed her, and she had to suppress a laugh at the little cravat.
Holding it up for Armin’s appraisal, she asked, “You had to include the ridiculous cravat?”
Armin shrugged. “The artist who made them wanted things as accurate as possible. Like I said, we’re heroes to the people here for stopping the Rumbling.”
“I’m going to make him wear it,” she said with a malicious grin, removing all the pieces of the old Survey Corps outfit from the box and settling them next to the doll on her lap.
Armin’s lip twitched, and his eyes got that wide-eyed, too-innocent expression that always meant he was up to no good, making Mikasa narrow her eyes. He gestured at the doll with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, you might as well, but change him back before you leave.”
The delirium of fatigue made the process of changing the top and attaching the mini cravat more entertaining than it should be, and she held it up with a snicker. Armin rolled his eyes at her antics, and she chuckled. “It even looks just as annoyed as he always did.”
With a nostalgic smile, Armin said, “He’s not as tense anymore. The last time I saw him, he even smiled.”
Mikasa took in the information as she fiddled with the little harnesses holding the pants in place. She looked back at Armin as she tugged away the trousers. “That’s good to hear.”
Then she looked down only to have her cheeks combust into flames at the realization the doll was anatomically correct. Entirely anatomically correct. Embarrassingly, but intriguingly, anatomically correct. There was no way that could be to scale. Was there?
A choked sound came from Armin as he tried but failed to hold in his laughter at her expression. “Your face!” he howled, doubled over in the chair.
Mikasa quickly pulled the pants back into the doll, trying desperately but failing not to look at the impressive level of detail. She kicked Armin square in the shin, turning his laughter to cursing as she hurriedly put the figure back in the box.
She placed the box on the table, trying to will the flush off her cheeks. She’d never take the time to think of Levi that way, but it was hard not to associate the face from her memories with the shockingly disproportionate appendage. It was nearly another limb, she thought, her cheeks returning to their reddened state with full force.
Armin eventually took pity on her, changing the subject and offering her some tea. As the two sat and discussed the lives of their peers and the latest about their growing families, Mikasa’s eyes kept drifting back to the doll as if drawn by a magnet. Surely, when Armin mentioned accurate measurements, he referred to height, weight, and the like… not that .
~
Mikasa stepped into the room, toweling off from her shower and feeling more relaxed now that she’d washed the grime of travel from her skin, tossing the towel into the hamper and sprawling onto the soft bed, sighing in relief as the soft mattress enveloped her.
While lounging in the quiet room, the earlier events crept back into her mind. Almost against her will, the intricately detailed cock attached to the doll sprang into her mind. Since the war, Mikasa had taken lovers, but what she’d seen on the figure made them all pale in comparison. From the lean, muscled abdomen down to the vee at his hips, it had all been crafted so meticulously. Heat built inside, and before she knew it, her fingers were trailing between her thighs, languidly caressing herself as she pictured the thick length and how it would feel pushing side.
Mikasa sat up and pulled her hand away as if burned, utterly aghast that she’d been touching herself over a doll made in the likeness of her former Captain. Frowning, she flopped her head back on the pillow with a groan. She’d fallen so far as to masturbate over a toy; she really needed to get laid. There was no way that this was normal.
Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She could solve this once and for all and prove that the images plaguing her mind were just the result of a craftsman’s exaggeration. Maybe that would quell the odd hunger that consumed her every time she pictured Levi’s face. She could just look at the other dolls. They would be out of whack as well; she just knew it. Then, she could push this whole thing out of her mind and dismiss it as one more awkward, embarrassing incident in her life and forget it for good.
Stalking silently down the hall to Armin’s office, Mikasa crept in and shut the door behind her. She touched her forehead and wiped off the sheen of nervous sweat cropping up from navigating the halls, desperately trying to think of a viable excuse if she was caught wandering into the office. Mikasa quickly hurried to the shelf, picking up Eren’s figure and then looking at the others on the shelf with a grimace. She discarded the idea of opening Armin’s box quickly; there were just some things she didn’t want to know about her best friend. Frowning, she wavered between Connie’s box and Jean’s, finally picking up Connie’s with a shudder. At least he didn’t hit on her. That was the last thing she needed popping into her head the next time Jean decided it was a good day to strike out again.
Finally, she picked up Levi’s box again, with him still in his mismatched uniform from her earlier haste to rebox him. She set him aside and took both of the other figures out, undressing them and turning them over, sending a mental apology to Connie—only to discover that they were different sizes, both from each other and Levi. Despite Eren being taller than both men, his figure did not seem proportional to his height. She shrugged and glanced quickly at the Connie figure, just long enough to verify that it indeed seemed at least proportionate. Tugging the pants back into the figurines, she reshelved them and tried to banish the imagery from her mind.
Returning to the chair, she unboxed Levi’s again and turned it over to undo the pants. As she slid them down, a tiny spark of humor curled her lip as she noticed the doll even had a little, meticulously detailed ass-crack; she chuckled, tracing the line before turning him over. Mikasa half-expected to see a normal cock on the front, and her imagination to have blown the unexpected sight out of proportion. But it was just the same as she remembered.
Looking up and tilting her head to ensure she heard no footsteps, she ran her finger along the length, eyeballing it in perspective of the rest of his body. There was no way; it had to be at least eight? Eight and a half? inches. That seemed impossible on a man a few inches shorter than she. Breaking free from control, Mikasa’s imagination ran away with her again, imagining the stretch and the reach of Levi rolling his hips inside her, pushing that monstrosity of a cock in until she was fuller than she’d ever felt before. She shivered and looked back down at the doll, committing each detail to memory, down to the curve of the cock and the veins winding around its length. Unbelievable—she was aroused again; maybe the war had finally robbed the last of her sanity.
She put the doll away and hauled ass back to the room, closing the door behind her and leaning on it. Desire and arousal weren’t strangers to her; neither was the hunger of wanting to feel a man buried inside her. The problem was that she felt that same hunger connected to Levi because of that damned doll. She rested her head against the door, banging it lightly to beat the thoughts into submission, but they just kept coming. Well, it could be worse, she supposed. Levi certainly was an attractive man, even if she’d enjoyed his company as equally often as she had wanted to murder him. Hadn’t Armin mentioned he was doing better and was more relaxed now?
Resigning herself to fate, Mikasa threw herself onto the bed with a sigh. She’d never sleep if she didn’t take the edge off her body’s need. Stripping, she laid out on the bed, prepared to finish herself to the thought of a fake cock. Mikasa wholeheartedly hoped that she’d find it in herself to bury the memory of this orgasm and her musings about Levi’s cock so deeply in a black pit of memory that she would never see them again. But as her hand slid a ghostly trail up one thigh, Mikasa couldn’t find it in herself to deny that this was the most aroused she’d been in years.
Closing her eyes as she rubbed over her clit, Mikasa imagined straddling Levi’s lap and grinding against that massive length. Each roll of her hips would press the thick, stiff shaft against her, sending sparks up her spine. She could almost feel it, the way the firm, weeping head would press against her clit.
The image in her head switched. Now she was on all fours, resting on her elbows as Levi teased her entrance, nudging his cock just inside the tight opening until
Mikasa begged in a shattered voice for him to push in. The scene in her head was so vivid that she came around her fingers even as she felt the imaginary thrust. She lay there, dazed in the aftermath and questioning just what led her to this point.
Too tired and sated to care about the answer, Mikasa pulled the blanket over herself, not even bothering to turn off the lights. She’d deal with soul-searching tomorrow.
~
Armin seemed suspiciously cheerful at breakfast the following morning, only teasing her a little about her later-than-usual wake-up. He laid out the day he had planned with her in Marley’s new capitol city, from their first visits to some museums down to their dinner plans back at the house tonight with great enthusiasm—too much enthusiasm even for him. Mikasa narrowed her eyes, watching her best friend for the tells a lifetime of friendship had taught her. After the third time he reached up to scratch the back of his head, Mikasa knew for certain that he was hiding something.
Her questions about the day grew more intense, convinced that Armin’s agenda for her hid some sort of event or plan that he knew she’d reject. But for all the intensity of her questions, she uncovered nothing alarming. Relieved but skeptical, Mikasa quickly finished the rest of her breakfast with a tinge of guilt that her late-night activities ( Really? A doll? ) had derailed a few of Armin’s earlier plans.
As the day wore on, she found herself grinning at Armin’s boundless excitement over the curiosities Marley held for two kids raised in Paradis. She was sure that if she tried to process everything he said, her brain would have long since exploded. So Mikasa settled for giving Armin encouraging smiles and reacting with significantly more enthusiasm than she felt when he turned his big, blue eyes her way, looking for a response to whatever new art or invention he dragged her in front of. She didn’t honestly mind, though. This was who Armin had been since they were small children together. It did, however, provide a sad reminder of some of the traits Hange and Armin shared. The somber thought changed to an inquisitive one when she wondered if Levi had ever found himself in a similar boat, pulled along for the ride as his companion sought to impart every interesting thing they’d learned in the space of one breath.
The return to normal and the absence of any of his tells made Mikasa wonder if she’d misread him at breakfast, her groggy mind making up cues in an effort to assuage her embarrassment and guilt. While Armin definitely seemed to have a nervous tic, maybe he just really did have an itch on the back of his head, she reasoned.
She almost convinced herself of it when, as their shadows grew long in the setting sun, he suggested turning back toward his house so they wouldn’t be late for dinner. Then, his hand came up again, and he grinned; she frowned, following him along the sidewalk, glaring at his back with a sour, skeptical expression. Although he’d matured and could be deadly serious when needed, he had never entirely lost that mischievous streak that shocked their fellow cadets during training.
Indeed, his abilities—and creativity—far exceeded Sasha’s and Connie’s when they made the mistake of targeting once. Her lip quirked up in a smile at the memory of Connie’s dismayed shout when he’d left the showers dyed purple by a soap that contained a pigment that reacted with a different compound Armin added to the shampoo, the rinsing of the latter causing purple streaks to bloom everywhere the suds touched.
For all the humor she’d found in that moment, Mikasa also didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his mischief. As they came within sight of his house, he paused and turned to her. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I forgot to mention we have a guest with dinner tonight. I have to meet with him for work.”
There was the hand again, nervously fiddling behind his ear. But before Mikasa could object, Armin grabbed her wrist and pulled her the final steps toward the house and through the front door. “Armin,” she hissed in the stern, disapproving tone that had often bought her a reprieve from his bullshit.
“Come on,” he urged, taking her coat. “I’ll take you into the sitting room and then check on dinner.”
He dragged Mikasa down the hall despite her resistance, her legs feeling like lead each step of the way as her distrust and concern built. He flung open the door to the sitting room, and her face immediately combusted. Of all the fucking people, Levi sat in an armchair by the fire, glancing their way with a blase expression.
That smug, little bastard, she thought, turning to glare at Armin, who patted her on the shoulder reassuringly before his eyes twinkled and he leaned in, whispering, “Accurate measurements,” before quickly exiting the room, closing the door behind him as her face heated to a degree she didn’t even know was possible.
Mikasa couldn’t even meet Levi’s eyes as images of last night flashed before her eyes. Undressing the doll, touching its cock, getting off like a pervert at the sight. She focused her attention on the floor, focusing on the fine leather of his shoes and immaculately pressed trousers. He sat with his ankle crossed over his knee in the casual slouch she’d come to associate with Levi over the years. A random thought flitted through her mind: had Levi always sat in that same nonchalant sprawl to accommodate what sat between his thighs? The combination of embarrassment and hungry arousal at the thought nearly made her choke, and she slumped into the armchair gracelessly, making a futile attempt to hide her face in her hands.
“I wasn’t expecting a warm reception or anything, but this is ridiculous,” he drawled, placing his teacup on the table with a soft clink. “You alright, brat? You look like I need to call a doctor,” he said, leaning forward in his seat to try to see past the hands covering her face
Mikasa warded off the attention, waving a hand to get him to back up. “I’m fine,” she choked, “this was just… unexpected.” She took her hands down—they just made it worse—and breathed long breaths through her nose, trying to calm her emotions.
He scoffed, leaning back in the chair. “Well, I’m not sure what the other brat said to you on the way out, but try not to have a stroke over it.”
The utterly mortifying moment dragged on forever until Levi interrupted the silence again. “Whatever’s going on with you, it beats seeing you gloomy,” he observed with the air of a man giving the highest praise.
A strangled laugh escaped her despite the awkwardness. How very like Levi to issue a compliment by way of an insult. “You haven’t changed much,” she said, giving into the humor and smiling.
To her shock, he returned the smile. “More than you might suspect. The years seem to have done you some good, too.”
Mikasa settled on the small talk, working to forget her earlier embarrassment. Putting aside the situation with the doll, she genuinely missed his presence more than she realized. Hearing Levi’s witty commentary on life after the war and his efforts in helping Britain rebuild did her heart good. Mikasa found herself settling into a comfortable lull, listening to him.
Two of the workers Armin employed to help around the house entered the room, settling a table in the room before returning with chairs. Levi and Mikasa shared a confused glance before Armin returned and informed them dinner would be ready in just a few minutes. He directed Levi to a chair opposite Mikasa. She watched curiously as he rose with the aid of his cane and made it to the table with a smaller limp than she’d expected. It eased a bit of the guilt she always felt about not being able to get to him before the Titan inflicted that devastating wound.
It wasn’t until Mikasa sat at the table that horror dawned on her. She turned to Armin with wide-eyed outrage, unable to voice aloud her fury at his games. He tipped his glass at her. “You should try the wine, Mikasa. Marley still has some of the best vineyards. It’ll help you relax,” he said innocently.
Levi watched the interplay with a raised eyebrow, not foolish enough to step into whatever he thought was occurring. With great effort, Mikasa took a long sip of wine and turned back to Levi, forcing herself to focus only on his face and not on the line of dolls decorating the shelf directly behind him. At least if she drank the wine, she could pass off the color that would undoubtedly rise to her cheeks during dinner, she reasoned, taking another heavier sip. “The wine is great,” she agreed through gritted teeth, fixing Armin with a look he would know meant that retaliation would one day come his way.
As the food came out and dinner stretched out, filled with amiable conversation and anecdotes from their new lives, Mikasa poured herself a second glass of wine after a particularly vivid image of the Levi she imagined last night entered her mind. Her eyes flicked to the doll again and then back to his face as she sipped and tried to catch up on the conversation.
By the third time this happened, Levi gave her an overtly concerned look and asked if she was alright. Only the sight of Armin grinning into his wine glass gave her the fortitude to answer in a steady voice and reassure him that she was fine. Thankfully, the conversation did indeed turn to business between the two, and she was granted a brief respite.
Dinner wound down, and after the plates were cleared, Armin excused himself to make a quick phone call and get the desserts left behind by his staff before they left for the night. After he left, Levi looked at Mikasa with narrowed eyes before turning and looking over his shoulder to see what had distracted and disconcerted her so thoroughly during the meal. She tried, in vain, to distract Levi before he discovered the source of her red cheeks and unusual reactions.
As he scanned the area behind him, Mikasa knew the precise moment the answer clicked into place for Levi as first, his brows furrowed, followed by a subtle widening of his eyes. Mikasa cringed, deciding she’d murder Armin the next time she saw him and never feel a stitch of guilt. To her surprise, Levi didn’t laugh or make a snarky comment. He gazed at the shelf a bit longer before turning back to her, a contemplative look on his face.
Then, a pout pulled down the corner of his lips. “Do you have any idea how irritated I am at Armin for that damned figure?”
Slowly, she met his eyes, trying to pretend the heat in her cheeks and the dampness between her thighs didn’t exist. Experiencing little success, Mikasa replied weakly, “Oh?”
Levi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, his eyes fixed on her. “Yeah, I had random people, mainly women, coming up to me in the street, suddenly very interested in talking with me or having me over for a meal. He snorted, lip curling with amusement. “It took months for me to finally encounter one of the damned things myself and understand why. That little shit could have maintained some of our privacy when he worked with the artist.”
Shit . He did understand her reaction. At that moment, Mikasa wished for nothing more than the ground to swallow her up. Then, Levi uncrossed his arms, laying them on the table as he shifted and leaned forward toward Mikasa, humor dancing on his face. “Tell me, did you know yours is pretty detailed too?”
Mikasa’s heart skipped a beat both at the question and the smooth, low drawl of his voice. Her whole body heated, and she squirmed in her seat without even realizing it, thighs pressing together as if it could hold the dampness in. His eyes held a predatory glint as they measured her reaction, and her mind flickered back again to the imagined Levi of last night and the slow, sweet stretch when he’d filled her. Her breath caught, and Mikasa saw the flicker of satisfaction on his face, cursing herself for her transparent need.
As if the caught breath was all he needed, Levi pushed on. “It’s enough to make a man wonder,” he said, openly eying her. “I know mine is accurate. Is yours?”
The searing arousal grew too much to fight. Mikasa would be damned if her hand was her only companion tonight. If Armin wanted to complain about the noise or their desecration of his guest room, tough shit; he shouldn’t have started this game. Gathering her courage, she raised her brow and sipped wine before asking, “Do you want to find out?”
A sly smile spread across Levi’s lips, and the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver of anticipation through Mikasa. “Now?” he asked curiously, picking up his own glass and downing the contents.
She nodded, replying somewhat breathlessly, “Now is good.”
Levi grabbed his cane and rose to his feet with a small grunt of pain at the movement. Guilt momentarily overtook her arousal as she considered if doing this would harm him. Levi must have caught something of her thoughts on her face because he snorted softly and said, “Stop looking at me like that. My knee is busted, not my cock. I’ll be fine.”
Gesturing for her to lead the way, he followed Mikasa from the sitting room and through the hallways leading to the guest room. The entire time, Mikasa felt his gaze burning into her back, and each step closer added to the storm churning inside. That look on his face when he’d asked about the figure made of her. Had she not been the only one who stopped so low? The hallway instantly felt stifling at the thought of Levi taking himself in hand, stroking his cock to the same imagined thoughts of her.
Hands clenched as if that could stop her desire from exploding outward, she turned the final corner to her room, throwing open the door and standing aside to let Levi enter. She shut the door and turned the lock as soon as he cleared the threshold, turning back to catch his lip curled with the same amusement as earlier. “Eager, brat?” he teased.
In response, Mikasa stepped into his space, forcing him to tilt his head to look up at her. Up close and without the pressures of war and fear hanging over her, she noticed things she hadn’t before—the fullness of his lower lip, the length of his dark lashes, and the undeniable masculinity of his sharp jawline. Idly, as she slowly traced her hands up his chest, Mikasa tried to recall if the doll had those features correct, too.
Levi seemed to grow impatient with her slow pace and grasped her chin, tilting her head to capture her lips and put an end to the teasing. Mikasa’s body lit up, every nerve sending jolts so fierce that it would be a wonder if she could feel anything at all after this. She met the kiss hungrily, tasting him, devouring him, and seeking more with wandering hands that stripped away his shirt even as they consumed one another.
The years hadn’t harmed his condition, and Mikasa reveled in the firm planes of muscle under her hands before a tugging at her shirt made her pull her hands away long enough to shrug free of it. His hands flew to her breasts, caressing her through the lace of her bra with a groan of approval at the lingerie under his fingers. As he plucked at and teased her nipples through the thin fabric, Mikasa thanked herself for the indulgence of buying fine undergarments after the war.
Breaking away from her lips, Levi bent his head, sucking the hardened bud into his mouth through the place and teasing it with his tongue. She reflexively bit down on the moan that rose in her throat, and he gripped her chin again, forcing her to look at him through hazy eyes. Levi’s face wore the twist of disdain she’d come to recognize, signaled him at his pettiest. “Don’t you fucking dare stay quiet. That little shit is going to hear your screams echoing in every corner of this house tonight for what he put us through.”
Mikasa nodded and then nipped at his fingers as he moved them away, sucking the captured digits into her mouth and drawing a loud swear from Levi’s lips. He stared at her fixedly as she slid her lips up and down them, dressing with her tongue while her hand trailed down his exposed chest and stomach before grazing over his cock. It didn’t disappoint. Mikasa smiled around his fingers at the way Levi twitched when she closed her hand around the hard length, stroking it through his pants. “Bed, now,” he all but growled, stopping her wrist and gently freeing his fingers from between her lips.
She gave a last teasing suck as they departed, the low simmer of her arousal boiling over as she watched Levi strip. His hardened cock sprang free of his pants, and Mikasa had to admit the accuracy of the figure and wonder if she’d bitten off more than she could chew by challenging him. But the temptation of that imagined stretch made her throb with want, and as wet as she already was, perhaps she’d manage just fine. Stripping her remaining clothes quickly under Levi’s intense gaze, she kicked them away and approached. Mikasa trailed a hand along his hip and gave his length a teasing stroke before climbing onto the bed, turning to watch as he came to rest beside her.
He took hold of her hand, grazing her knuckles with his lips in a gesture more tender than Mikasa had expected from him before pulling her closer until her bare breasts pressed against his chest. Levi kissed and sucked at her neck, teasing her as his erection pressed hot and heavy between their stomachs. His hand caressed her before grabbing her thigh and squeezing, making her gasp as he lifted it to rest on his hip. “The likeness was good, but I prefer the real thing,” he teased, lips moving against her ear as he rutted against her.
“Did you touch yourself?” Mikasa asked, grinding against Levi’s thigh as his hands roamed her body. Levi hissed in response to her words, and her wet core pressed against him. The sound shot straight to her cunt, further easing the slide against his leg.
“Finally developing an ego, brat?” he taunted before still her hips and sliding his hand between her thigh and his leg. His fingers teased along her lips, finally parting them to circle her soaked entrance, never quite dipping inside. Then, he leaned in again, speaking against her ear, the puffs of breath stirring her hair and sending shivers down her spine. “Yes, I touched myself. I fucked my hand, knowing it could never be as hot and tight as you,” Levi said, voice deep and needy as he pushed two fingers inside, making her arch against him and sending obscene sounds that would be mortifying if his distracting touch didn’t feel so good.
Mikasa burned under the touch, her overloaded, sparking nerves heating her body with each curving thrust of Levi’s fingers. How in the world he had this effect on her, she didn’t know, but it didn’t matter; reason quickly ebbed away as his thumb pressed down on the nub, and Mikasa’s hands clung to his shoulders, heedless of the half-moon-shaped indentations her nails left on his skin. The last dregs of her pride hung on, and despite her desire, she wouldn’t let herself cave so quickly. With hands that moved clumsily from overstimulated nerves, she reached down and grasped his length again, feeling the hot throb of his pulse against her palm as she gripped it.
Reluctantly, she pulled herself free from his grasp, pushing Levi onto his back and ignoring the aching need between her legs. He watched, lips slightly parted as if to interject, as she ran her tongue along the length of his cock, caressing the head before taking him into her mouth. “Fuck, Mikasa,” he groaned as she slowly engulfed him, taking as much as she could manage despite the ache in her jaw from his thickness. The broken sound pleased her, and she hummed her approval around him as she pulled back up, sucking at the head before releasing him with an audible pop .
She stroked Levi languidly, admiring both his cock and the reactions of the man it was attached to, each little jump of his abdominal muscles and the hitch of his breath every time her closed fist passed over the head. “I touched myself, too,” she admitted, drawing his attention. Lapping at the head just to watch him arch, Mikasa caressed his hipbone before continuing. “I did it right here last night, thinking of you and how you would feel inside me,” she said, watching intently as his eyes darkened further. Mikasa pushed him back as he tried to sit up, taking him into her mouth again and using her hand to stroke the parts of him she couldn’t fit as she used her mouth and tongue to draw the sounds from him that she’d dreamed of.
Writhing frantically under her, Levi tried to warn of his impending release, but Mikasa kept her arm firmly planted across his midsection, wanting to feel the pulse of him against her tongue as he came. His hand tangled in her hair, tugging helplessly as she heard the creak of wood from his other hand gripping the headboard. Even down two fingers, the wood protested at the strength of his grip as his hips bucked, and she increased her speed.
An explosive gasp accompanied the first pulse in her mouth, and she quickly swallowed so as not to taste the bitter saltiness any more than she had to. Levi cried out at the sensation even in the throes of his orgasm. She continued until the throbbing slowed, and Levi’s grip on her hair relaxed. As soon as her arm lifted off his hips, Levi shook off the languor, reaching down to pull her to sit atop him. His abdomen, still flushed from orgasm, trembled with subtle aftershocks as Mikasa straddled him.
Calloused palms slid up her legs, running from her knees up to her thighs before kneading the flesh there. “You really are a brat,” Levi said, grazing a thumb over her clit and regarding the wetness on it thoughtfully when he pulled it away.
“Get up here,” he ordered, pulling at the backs of her legs until Mikasa’s knees settled on either side of his head. Without pause, Levi pulled her hips down and held her in place with a firm grip as he began to devour her. It was a good thing he had a tight hold because Mikasa swore and nearly toppled forward, her hands catching the headboard and making the wood groan as if complaining about the repeated insults inflicted on it.
Levi lapped and sucked, not giving her even a moment to catch her breath or protest that she needed him in her right now. He lifted her to wedge an arm between and sink two and then three fingers inside before renewing his attack on her clit. An embarrassingly needy sound escaped her, but Mikasa was far past, caring about dignity, reaching down to grip Levi’s hair and rock against his fingers and tongue until she was falling.
She gasped and cried out, too far gone to care a single bit for anyone else’s sensibilities. Even as she shook, Levi kept lapping at her, humming approval against her when she called out his name, as it all became too much. The orgasm had her shaking and sightless, clinging with white knuckles to the bed frame while nonsense spilled from her lips.
In her daze, she was moving, and Mikasa realized Levi had lifted her off, carefully laying her on the bed beside him, an entirely too amused expression on his face. He tried to sit up, and Mikasa caught him with a leaden arm. “I still want you,” she said, pulling him back over her.
Levi let out a low laugh that made her feel oddly fuzzy inside. It was a sound she’d never quite heard from him, but she liked it—a lot. He rolled his hips, letting his length glide over messy folds. “I wasn’t done with you either,” he said, nudging at her clit and drawing a throaty moan that Mikasa barely recognized as her own. “I was just getting into a better position. First, I’m going to fuck you until you scream loud enough that no one will doubt what happened tonight. Then, I want to watch you ride me.”
He’ll be the death of me, she thought, wondering yet again if she’d bitten off more than she could chew by challenging Levi. But then his lips were on hers, a brief gesture of gentleness amid the heat, and she let the doubts go.
When he pulled away this time, she didn’t stop him, watching as he got to his feet beside the bed. Then his hands shot out, pulling her to the edge and closer to him. Her eyes shot wide at the unexpected motion, and Mikasa barely managed to avoid letting out an undignified yelp. “Easier on the leg,” he explained, guiding her to roll over and adjusting the height of her hips.
The cool air against her made Mikasa shiver as she bent, wholly exposed to him. Levi took his time, spreading her and delving his fingers inside once more, leisurely stroking her back towards bliss. Then the thick head of his cock was at her entrance. She braced, and Levi made a sound of displeasure as the way she tightened around the head, reaching down to rub at her clit until she reflexively pushed back against him.
Then he sunk in. Slowly, steadily, Levi pushed forward, and Mikasa’s body stretched around him until his hips finally met hers after what seemed like an impossibly long time. The sensation of being so full made her breath catch, and she gave an experimental rock back against Levi, only to find the divine pressure and friction of him sliding against her walls was beyond anything her imagination had conjured last night.
“Always so headstrong,” he teased, caressing her hips before running his hands up and back down the curve of her waist. “You’ve always been beautiful when you’re stubborn,” he admitted, pulling his hips back, the words and movement stealing her breaths. As he pressed back in, gratingly slow, she trembled as he slid along the place inside that made her see stars when she curled her fingers just right.
Levi bottomed out, keeping his hips against Mikasa as he leaned over her to you with her clit, his breath shuddering when she clamped around him. His voice became a low murmur. “They got the expression right on yours. The line between your eyebrows and that pout. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to fuck you or fight you half the time.”
Wall, but she needed him to move. The clever circles of his fingers and the pressure of his cock were divine but not enough. She wanted him to wreck her. She thrust her hips back against him, making him groan, but Levi held, still seated deeply inside her and tormenting her swollen clit. It was only when she caved and babbled a plea for him to fuck her that he obliged.
Lost in sensation, hands balled in the crisp cotton sheets, Mikasa climbed, climbed, climbed. And when she thought it wasn’t possible to feel more, Levi’s fingers rubbed harder, and she broke. Muscles jerking as she landed hard on her elbows, the incomprehensible pleasure tore her away from her body, the steady thrust of Levi’s cock drawing out the orgasm past all reason before finally pulling free and letting her collapse.
Stroking himself as he watched her splay out breathlessly on the bed, Levi eyed her, hungry and keen as she recovered enough to slide over for him to lay on the mattress. He’d given so much already tonight, but she wanted more. Dragging herself atop him, Mikasa ground against Levi’s length as she kissed him before shifting her hips to catch him against her entrance. She pulled back from the kiss to watch his face as she sank down on him, relishing the way his eyes fluttered shut and his jaw clenched as she surrounded him.
Her core gripped him, taut and throbbing with the lingering arousal of the last orgasm, and the drag as she lifted back off sent shockwaves through her system. Levi gripped her hip with one hand and reached up to knead her breast as she leaned back on her knees to ride him in earnest, grinding her clit against his pelvis and feeling the hair there grow damper with each rock. At least they’d both be a mess when this finished.
Soon Levi began to make sounds of his own, small groans and hisses as she rode him and tightened at the friction against her clit. Mikasa consumed the sounds, absorbing each fascinating cry with building pleasure. When Levi desperately grabbed at her arms, pulling her down full, her breasts crushing into his chest, Mikasa knew he was close. He fucked up into her from underneath, hips jerking and writhing as she ground against him in short jerks, approaching yet another finish as they clung to each other.
Levi’s strangled cry against her neck gave warning before his hot release filled her, and Mikasa closed her eyes, pushing through the last few thrusts until she joined him. They lay together, chests heaving and bodies chilling as the room's cool air blew across their sweat-soaked skin. His hand flopped off the bed, groping blindly on the floor until it came back with a shirt to wipe them both down.
Mikasa rolled off, spreading out on the mattress while he cleaned her off. Reaching down to the foot of the bed, Levi pulled up the spare blanket folded there and nestled them together underneath it. Laying on his side next to Mikasa, he leaned down to graze her nose with his own before pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was a little too lingering to be considered chaste. He brushed her hair back, meeting Mikasa’s groggy eyes. “I still think the dolls are creepy, but I suppose I can deal with them.”
Grinning tiredly, Mikasa said, “Armin’s still not off the hook, though.”
The bed shifted as Levi settled down beside her, resting his head on the plush pillow. “Rest first. Then we’ll shower and make him regret it all over again.”