Pleasure and Pain (Levi x Reader) [AU] Chapter 2More Like This
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-Warnings For Strong Language-
Names and Neighbors:
You cringed at the sound of the doorbell. You could practically hear Hanji bouncing in place with excitement. You could already hear her excited voice and feel her constricting hug cutting off your oxygen. You weren't ready for Hanji. It was still too early in the morning ( even though it was now almost 11:00am ) and you hadn't mentally prepared yourself for her quite yet. Not like you had any time or choice anymore though. Time to let bull that was Hanji into the china shop that was your fragile state of mind.
"Go open the door, Armin." You said exasperated. Pinching the bridge of your nose and closing your eyes
Bathing with Heichou [LevixReader]More Like This
”I just want to see Heichou naked.” you announced casually, shrugging your shoulders. ”Well, what can I say. He’s hot, after all.”
Mikasa’s, Sasha’s and Christa’s eyes widened and you didn’t really see why, considering that they knew how much you liked the Captain.
That was what you said to your friends after Erwin told the soldiers that the spa was reserved for all of you. You’ve just come back from an expedition, and though there were several casualties, their number was not as much as usual. It was a bit cruel to say, but since none of your friends had died, you only felt relief afer the mission ended. You thought you deserved the peace and had the right to relax.
And let’s not ignore Heichou’s role either: you were sure his presence would make it even more pleasant. God, you really wanted to see him wearing absolutely nothing but his usual dull expression, which only made him even sexier. Wa
utan_namn.rtfDet var ett stort väntrum med många tavlor på gamla kända konstnärer upphängda på väggarna, ett par tanklöst utspridda bokhyllor utefter väggarna, fyllda med tidskrifter och barnböcker, några stora palmliknande träd här och där och ett par korgstolar inklämda på vardera sida om ett lågt träbord längst borta i ena hörnet. Direkt till vänster fanns ett stort skjutbart fönster och på andra sidan glaset satt en kort och mycket rynkig dam med ett par alldeles för stora glasögon högt uppskjutna på näsryggen. Jag undrade ifall det verkligen var ett fönster, eller om jag råkat hamna på ett museum och detta var en glasmonter för förhistoriska föremål. Hon kastade en blick mot mig när jag kom in och ett leende som fyllde hennes ansikte med ett dussintal mer rynkor sprack upp i hennes ansikte. Hon nickade kort motMore Like This
an october apology to my bodyi)More Like This
the crook of my arm is blue once more.
a round bruise, a globe of the earth, laced with green.
a little world in the boomerang curve of my elbow,
which i peer at from far away.
(i’m sorry little arm, i know you’re sick of blood tests.
i know you’re fed up of all the poking with needles,
to check up on my poor struggling liver.
i’ll tell it i’m sorry for starving it, too).
i’ve decided to take up space in the world again,
to make myself part of it, join in.
but i’m like a wobbly child strapped to a car-seat
on a long nauseating journey to the beach.
a child clutching a puzzle book in their hand and attempting
a word game called fill in the blanks,
c-a-t / d-o-g
a child who is trying so hard, despite the jolts of tyres upon uneven ground sending letters
sprawling across the page like unravelling wool.
and the journey is punctuated by wheedling groans of
‘’are we nearly there yet?’’
ghost frecklesI am supposed to be having fun at one of these dreary pubsMore Like This
with an animal in the name
but I suddenly remember my nine year old self, waiting outside
our old local
trying to do handstands against the brick wall to pass time.
The mini-me phantom fiercely practices until pieces of gravel embed themselves into her burning palms
and she cries silently whilst watching a bleary man smoke an orange blur silhouetted against the darkening sky.
‘I’m fine’ I smile, an adult again, trying to scrunch my eyes a little
(apparently a real smile always reaches the eyes).
I do a lot of nodding and laughing,
and I think most of it is appropriate.
Then I drift towards the toilets whilst excusing myself to no-one in particular.
In the solitude of the bathroom I stare into the mirror and notice the greyish freckles peering through my thick make-up, like ghosts.
The mirror is surrounded by panes of frosted glass
from which I wildly avert my gaze
because looking into them feels like being f