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anlian-aishang · 5 months

Note

For the practice drabble thingie, Sweat/Scent kink? 👁️ 👁️

I just. k n o w. I have this headcanon that Levi always uses baby/scented powder to avoid sweating so much on expeditions/missions, but maybe one day he just runs out of it or rushes out of his room, so Levi gets flustered or self-conscious for the rest of the day or smth, idk I don’t think he would smell **that much**, but… still, he smells pretty masculine, yknow?👁️👁️

Tags: levi x reader [mutual pining], sfw [but fetish-based material], sweat & scent stuff, canonverse, gn!reader Word count: 2700 A/N: Holy hell, thank you, this is exactly what I wanted. nsfw sequel is in the works <3

It was his fucking day off.

Levi was the most cautious when it came to anticipation. Sights no one should have to see had scarred him to the point of learning: if you never got your hopes up, nothing could let you down. That thought rained on most of his parades, but he supposed there was little letdown to be had when it came to the likewise little things. On returns from expeditions, he allowed himself to look forward to the removal of his heavy gear and tight belts. When the smell of fresh-baked bread wafted through the barracks, he let his tongue salivate and his stomach sing. Today would have been his first day off in - he couldn’t even remember - god knows how long. Last night, his stagnant stoicism seemed to float away, head in clouded daydream of how to make this day perfect.

But some days weren’t meant to be perfect.

Instead of birds chirping and the first rays of sunlight that Levi anticipated, it was a series of harsh knocks at the hour of indigo sky that woke him up. Levi startled out of sleep, snapping up with a breathless gasp.

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve said nothing, maybe then they would’ve left him alone. However, being woken suddenly, though a common occurrence, almost always meant disaster in the Scouts. His voice cracked a barely audible “W’What?” No response. Levi coughed and cleared his throat, the return of his scathing tone, “What?”

The knob swiveled. His door creaked. In the shadows of dawn stood a domineering, a commanding, six-foot figure. The leisurely pace with which he entered the room conveyed that there was no life-or-death emergency, and thus no good reason, for having barged in here on his day off. Levi rolled his eyes and scowled, “I didn’t say ‘come in.’”

Erwin ignored his remark and instead cut to the chase. “Supply transports were raided in Trost.”

His mind already set in vacation mode, it was remarkable how quickly his knowledge of the restock had left him, “What?”

“Tug-of-war with the Garrisons and MPs, scouring over the leftover scraps of the materials that were supposed to be.”

“The hell do the MPs need anything for?”

“I’m headed to the capital to find out.”

Too tired to think - let alone attempt - to disguise his confusion. Levi’s brows arced, lips parted as he tried to piece together what the hell this had to do with him. When it dawned, his trademark pout revived.

“...No.”

“So you’ll take my stand, running morning drills in -” Erwin checked his pocket watch - “twenty minutes.”

“I’m off today.” Levi refuted. “Get Miche or Hange to do it.”

“They’re coming with me.” Erwin’s eyes were dead set, nearly offended, don’t you know I’ve thought of this already? “Unless, of course, you want to make the trip.”

To yak with the higher-ups? He would sooner crawl through mud.

Though he was given a choice, he took pity at his situation: “Bullshit…” Levi cursed beneath his breath, his version of whining.

Impatient, Erwin tapped his foot, “Are you going to get up or would you like to sit here and talk about our feelings?” The commander’s voice was starkly monotone, despite the sarcasm dripping in his statement.

Levi could play that card, too. “Are you going to leave or are you just here to watch my bare ass roll out of bed?”

Right. Erwin turned on his heel, door slammed in his wake.

His impulse was to throw his head back on his pillow and an arm over his face, but twenty minutes - he didn’t even have the time for that. Levi bunched his sheets in his hands, so angry that his fists trembled, and swiveled his legs over the edge of his bed. A pang of nausea and a sharp headache, his body was pissed at him for the violent disruption of his sleep cycle. Levi held his forehead in hand and shook, blame eyebrows, not me.

Levi’s limbs felt heavy, like he had just come indoors from a rainstorm. Clouds of colorful swears and harsh grunts propelled him through his morning routine. A three-minute shower, trimming his bangs, toothpaste and mouthwash followed by tea. One of many identical uniforms was laid out on his dresser, but before that…

From head to toe - undercut nape, under the arms, the shelf of his pecs, between his thighs, and finally his feet - Levi always applied a handful of drying agent. At this time of year, headquarters could seriously reek, and Levi refused to contribute to that filth. Pressing his lips together and stifling a yawn, he turned the container upside down. Lips parted, though, when nothing fell out.

Shake. Shake shake.

A blockage, a clump, maybe? But there was no sound. The slightest of twitches in his fingers as Levi delicately, anxiously, twisted off the cap and peered inside.

That’s right. He had made a mental note yesterday, that part of his day off would be dedicated to visiting the market, buying tea leaves, some new briefs, and his astringent powder - all items he was too mortified to order through the Corps. Given the thieving that had just happened, it was not like those supplies would’ve arrived anyway, but now, he would not have the freedom to go out and get them.

With the jar completely open, he considered a few shakes in vain, but the bottle was so empty that he could see the reflection of his dark-circled eyes in the bottom of it. Levi allowed himself a heavy, exasperated sigh as he set the empty vessel back on his bathroom countertop just to loudly smack it into the trash can. Fucking shit.

At least he had showered, but peering out the window and onto the training grounds, he could already see waves of heat radiating off the pavement. Come noon, it would be far worse. Clock ticking, for now, his only solution was to cut down on layers. It was then that he realized how little leniency the uniform lent. Gritting his teeth, Levi reluctantly left his top drawer shut, forgoing his undershirt and underwear. Walking past his mirror, his reflection caught his own eyes: his ivory skin barely yet noticeably peeking through the buttons of his grey shirt. Goddammit, he ripped the brown, canvas coat off its hanger and crossed it tight across his chest. To the harmony of his soles on wooden floor, his inner voice melodized: Could an outfit be both breathable and modest?

Levi could not bring himself to abandon his cravat, so instead of tying it beneath his collar, he let it sling out his back pocket, at the ready to grasp for when he needed to wipe his sweat away. That moment was inevitable, but he preferred not to think about it. He ran his fingers through his hair, base of his hand lingered on his widow’s peak, grinding pressure away like a mortar and pestle. Whatever, he tried to assure himself, as long as no one was around…

At first, he thought he might manage. If they got close enough, they would surely notice the glimmer shining upon his skin. However, by terse orders and points of his fingers, he had maintained a perpetual distance from the hoard of trainees. He was more of a hands-on kind of teacher, opting to join them as they ran laps or learned to grapple through trees. Today, though, he was standing in the shade several yards from the action. If anyone gave him shit for lazying aside, he had an excuse in that he wasn’t even supposed to be on-call today anyways. However, perhaps because he looked particularly irritable and scary, no one dared question his bystanding.

Then came you.

“Levi?”

It was the first time you had ever seen startle on the captain. A simultaneous, steep flinch in each of his shoulders. Hairs stood on end, he whipped his gaze around, “What? What’re you doing here?”

The sight of panic on someone so fearless, it caused you to fret by proxy. “I - I uh…” You had never second-guessed him before, you had never had to. “I’m covering for -”

“Erwin?”

You knit your hands behind your back, a sheepish grin, “He said you’d need help. You know, given the heat…”

Levi crossed his arms and bit the inside of his cheek. How shitty could that oaf be? The truth was that this heat was getting to everyone, yet in his fluster, Levi was sure that not only Erwin knew about his secret susceptibility, but that he had spilled it to the last person Levi wanted to know. No words seemed adequate for response, so instead, he kicked his foot against the barrack wall, leaned back, and deferred to silence.

Something was off, your eyes darted in search for it. His cheeks had been tainted a light red. Luckily, you chalked it up to the temperature, though Levi knew that was not the sole factor. His hair was slicker than its usual light-and-airy allure, you figured he had just gotten out of the shower. That was true, but this damp was sweat, not soap. Your gaze started to descend down his body, and on the way, you noticed it: no cravat.

A dog without a collar. A missing puzzle piece. Mildly irksome yet disproportionately intriguing. It was like he had read your mind, the mocking timing with which he reached back into his pocket and lifted the cloth to his forehead, sighing and swiping. After a couple wringing flicks of his wrist, he folded it and shoved it inside the lining of his tan jacket. His left hand tucked it away, hidden, while his right hand lifted the coat away from his chest, granting him the space to do so. Again, his own state snagged his attention - the dark, drenched patch of fabric at his underarm jumped out like a bug on a wall. Fiercely, he snatched his jacket shut again, praying to whatever was out there that you had not seen.

And though you had not seen the soak of his shirt, his odd behavior was garnering more and more of your attention. Cruelly, that made him sweat even more: not only the sun’s rays, but the blaze of your stare burning onto his skin. He cursed the thickness of his leather boots, the ODM gear that strapped his clothing tight to his skin, the turn of events that had brought you to this moment, his stupid genetics, and his even stupider feelings for you. Thoughts spiraling, humidity could mess with him in ways that titans could not.

If you thought hard about it, you may have realized that his humidity induced the same haze in you. Bangs glued to his forehead. Chest rose high and fell deep - combined with his light panting - made your brain boggle. Now and then, a clear bead of sweat would fall from his temple, down his jawline and neck, before disappearing down his collar - where you noticed that his top button was uncharacteristically undone.

The loud pop! as he uncorked his canteen broke both of your thirsts. Head tilted far back, Adam’s apple deliciously bobbed as he gulped down his water. Lips absentmindedly fallen, your eyes drank as he did.

Levi recognized, pretending that he hadn’t noticed your stare had thus far failed to shake it. He scoffed internally: someone could use some self-awareness, he was literally dripping with it. With a straight-on side-eye, he maintained eye contact as he gradually lowered the canteen from his lips, only to thrash it and splash it upwards into his own face. Still, you gaped like an idiot. Finally, Levi decided: if you were going to be this indulgent, he would be, too. Maybe then, you’d realize. Levi thumbed a leaking drop from the corner of his mouth. After briefly sucking the digit dry, his tongue snuck between his lips to slowly lick them clean.

Stone-cold steel eyes and his soft pink tongue - that was what it took to break your concentration. Immediately, you snapped your gaze down to your toes and silently mouthed sorry.

Despite the heat, shivers somehow managed to seize his figure. With your gaze averted, you thankfully missed them. However, when you no longer had your sight to rely on, other senses instinctively took over. Particularly, scent: aged sandalwood, burnt charcoal, bitter tea. On the training grounds, these smells did not come naturally. And if it were anyone else, you may have cringed at the combination of scents, but upon realization of the one and only source of this musk, you felt your middle warm with inexplicable satisfaction.

Meanwhile, he was squirming: fuck, how badly he wanted to hit the showers. If Erwin had left this assignment to him, he had every right to leave it to the next person. The thing was, that next person was you, the blinking, doe-eyed, fresh promotion who hardly knew their blades from their gas. If you were anyone else, he could see himself saying: take this cash, head to the square and stop at this stand, buy the tallest bottle they have and bring it back to me. Say a word, you’re dead.

But you were the entire reason he strove to keep this secret under wraps. To give you such orders would essentially be a confession, erasing the whole point. Between a rock and a hard place, Levi stood frozen in fever.

The air was thick with moisture and silence. With each breath, the memory of that canteen escapade and his intensifying aura seemed to suffocate you. Internally, he was simmering over how to shoo you away from his disgusting sorry state. On the other hand, you were parsing over how to excuse yourself without being rude.

The 10:00 bell rang, you used it to craft a feigned excuse, “If you’ve got things under control -”

“I do.” In some ways, he did. In others, absolutely not.

“- I’m supposed to help mess out with lunch.”

Levi knit his brows, seemed unlikely, but he would not object. With a slight flick of his head, his gesture released you from post and encouraged you inside.

At the door frame and with his back turned, you could not help but take one last look. At his last end and assuming you had departed already, he finally shouldered that Scouts jacket off, revealing his light-grey button up having turned dark with his sweat. His fist clutched his collar and fanned ferociously, allowing his skin to breathe. Inaudible to the other, you both simultaneously reprieved, “Fuck me…”

At 11 on the dot, Levi and the platoon of morning athletes were in the cafeteria line. So what if it meant they called it quits prematurely? Inside, no one was complaining. Levi was relieved that he did not find you there, hopeful that you were in your room avoiding heat stroke, and oddly satisfied to have correctly suspected your “cafeteria-duties” bluff earlier.

Levi looked like he had been rained on then dunk-tanked. At least, that was how his squad put it, jeering and elbowing, “What happened to you out there?”

They didn’t want to know. He didn’t want them to know. Most of all, he would rather forget this day ever happened. He took his steel tray and made for his room to eat in private - but more importantly, to shower again.

The venture back to his quarters seemed to drag - maybe it was because the dampness of his clothes had weighed him down, or maybe it was because the empty, lone quiet of the halls allowed his consciousness to echo loud and clear: humiliating, huh?

He could not deny that it was fucking humiliating, but for as scathing as the memory of that embarrassment was, the recollection of your rose-colored stare was just as impactful. All along, he had feared that if you witnessed his weakness to heat - more so the sweat and stench that came with it, it would have sent you running the other direction. Self-doubt suggested: they did end up running, though. That mess-hall excuse, them being them, they were probably trying not to offend you as they took cover from your reek. Self-confidence objected, but remember the way they looked at you? Don’t play dumb. You know that look anywhere. They like you - and hell - maybe they liked it.

On his doormat, a tall white bottle and a handwritten note confirmed the latter.

Seemed like you were missing something… …not that I think you need it. - (Y/N)