Savoring It Little by Little
Characters: 8661 Character: Levi Ackerman Context: A rainy night at the barracks. You two are already close, but Levi is still reservedâyet intense. The focus is on his self-control, the silence, and the way he observes your every reaction.
The rain pounded hard on the barracks' roof tiles, and the wind made the window creak softly. The rest of the squad had been asleep for hours. In his room, the only light came from a dim lamp on the table, where Levi had piled up papers he'd already read three times.
You were sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him in silence.
"It's two in the morning," you said softly. "The report isn't going anywhere."
Levi didn't answer right away. He finished reading the line, folded the paper carefully, and only then turned his face toward you. His blue-gray eyes sparkled beneath the shadow of his eyelashes.
"You should be sleeping."
"So should you," you replied in the same tone.
He stood up. Unhurriedly. Every one of Levi's movements was calculated, precise, without wasted motion. He unbuttoned his recruit's jacket and hung it on the hanger before approaching you. The mattress creaked softly as he sat down beside you.
"Come here." It wasn't a request. It was a short, terse command, typical of him.
You turned to face him. Levi raised his hand and, with his fingertips, brushed a strand of hair away from your face. The touch was lightâalmost unbearable in its restraint.
"I don't like being rushed," he murmured, and his deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. "You know that."
You nodded, your breathing already a little shorter.
Levi slid his hand firmly to the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. At first, it was just a touch of lipsâclosed, almost chaste. He felt you tilt your head, trying to deepen the kiss, but he didn't let you.
"Slowly," he whispered against your mouth.
His free hand found the hem of your shirt. Levi didn't tear it or pull at it. He simply slipped his fingers under the fabric and touched your skinâfirst at your waist, then moving up slowly, his knuckles brushing every centimeter as if he were getting to know you all over again.
You moaned softly, and he stopped.
"That sensitive?" The question held no mockery. It was genuine, observant. His eyes never left yours.
"You're the one teasing me," you replied, your voice faltering.
Levi almost smiled. Almost. The corner of his mouth turned up a millimeterâthe equivalent of a loud laugh, coming from him.
"That's the point," he murmured, returning to kissing your skin. "Lie down," he ordered.
And you obeyed him again.
The mattress groaned under your weight. Levi didn't throw himself on top of you like the men in the stories you'd heard at the barracks. He knelt on the bed beside you first. Then, with exasperating and magnificent patience, he unbuttoned the first button of your shirt without any hurry.
Second button.
His eyes never strayed from your exposed skin.
Third.
The silence was so thick you could hear your own heartbeat.
"LeviâŠ" you whispered, less out of necessity and more to remind yourself that there was still a world out there.
"Shh." He leaned over you, one leg between yours, without pressing completely against you. His weight hadn't settled on you yet. His promise, however, had. "I told you I'd take it slow."
Fourth button.
The shirt opened. The cool air from the room brushed against your skin, but what sent shivers down your spine was his gazeâserious, focused, as if solving a puzzle were the greatest act of intimacy he knew.
He leaned in closer. His straight black hair brushed your chin. And then you felt it: his lips, closed, tracing a path from your jawline down to the curve of your neck, leaving a few small, red marks that, by tomorrow, would surely be purple.
"You can speak," he said. "If you want to stop, I'll stop."
"I don't want to stop," you said, a little coyly.
"Good."
He moved his lips down to your neck. He didn't bite. He licked slowly, felt your racing pulse against his tongue, and then suckedâgently, almost like a promise. You arched your back, and he held your hips with a firm hand, keeping you in place.
"Not yet," his voice was low but non-negotiable. "I said I was going to savor it little by little."
Every kiss moving down your body was given with the same surgical precision he used to clean a blade or map out an escape route. Levi wasn't in a hurry because he didn't need to be. Time was his. You were his.
When his mouth finally found the spot where you needed it most, you were already trembling, your fingers tangled in his dark hair, holding on without pulling. He looked up at you for a second, just to confirm what he already knew: you were completely surrendered.
"Good," he murmured. "Stay still like that."
And then Levi set to work with the same silent efficiency that made him the strongest human who ever lived. But there, in that dark room, with the rain falling outside and you melting beneath him, he wasn't a captain. He wasn't a hero. He was yours alone. Savoring every part of you, bit by bit.
His gray eyes slowly swept over what you offeredâand you felt every inch of that gaze as if it were a hot brand. He was on his knees between your spread legs, his white shirt still unbuttoned, his muscular forearms resting on your thighs. His black hair fell slightly over his eyes, and his breathing was controlledâbut you saw his chest rising and falling faster than usual.
"Like this," he murmured, quietly, almost to himself. "This is how I wanted you. Exposed. Trembling. Waiting for me."
He slid his hands up the insides of your thighsâslowly, very slowly. His fingertips barely touched you, just sending shivers down your spine. They moved up to the crease of your groin and stopped.
"Levi⊠Levi, please," you moaned, not knowing exactly what you were asking for.
He lifted his face. His chin was wet. His eyes, dark. He slowly licked his own lips.
"Please, what?" His voice was a deep whisper. "Tell me. Do you want me to keep going? Do you want more?"
"Yes. Please, don't stop." Hearing you say that in that slightly pleading tone made him smile.
"Good girl," he murmured and went back down.
But this time it wasn't slow. Levi picked up the paceâhis tongue alternating between firm pressure and light touches that drew strangled moans from deep inside you. One of his hands held your hip in place. The other slid down your stomach until it cupped one of your breasts, his thumb brushing your nipple in time with his mouth.
You bit your lip to hold back a few moans, your hips moving on their own in search of contact. He held your hips with both handsâfirmly, unmoving.
"No." His voice was deep, almost a warning. "You stay still. I'm the one who sets the pace here. Understood?"
"Understood," you whispered, breathless.
He nodded once. Then he lowered his head. He went back to sucking you, making wet sounds. He licked from your center to your most sensitive spot in a slow, deliberate motion, as if tasting something rare and wanting to savor the flavor.
You arched your back with a moan that came out louder than you'd like. Levi stopped immediately. He kept his mouth a centimeter away from you, his warm breath brushing against your wet skin.
"Noise," he said, as if observing a curious phenomenon. "You're already making noise."
"I can't⊠hold⊠itâŠ" you tried to apologize, your voice faltering.
"You're going to have to deal with it." And he went down again.
This time, he licked more slowly. His tongue traced wide circles around your spot, then tightened, then loosened. As if he were playing. As if he had all the time in the world to figure out exactly how to make you shudder.
And he figured it out quickly.
When he suckedâlightly, just a tugâyou moaned again, and your hands instinctively reached down to his hair. Your fingers tangled in the smooth black strands, pulling them without meaning to.
Levi grunted against you. The vibration coursed through your entire body.
"Like this," he murmured, his voice muffled. "Mm. I like it."
He dove back in with greater intensity, his tongue alternating between broad licks and precise pressure. One of his hands moved up from your hip to your stomach, pressing lightly to hold you in place. The other moved lowerâand you felt one finger, then two, slowly entering you while his mouth remained on your clitoris.
The moan that escaped you was almost a scream.
He stopped again. He lifted his face, his lips glistening, his dark gaze fixed on you.
"If you scream, the whole battalion will wake up." His voice was hoarse, but there was a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. "And the last thing I want is to have to kill someone for hearing you moan."
He curled his fingers inside youâslowly, once, twice. You arched your back again, biting your own hand to keep from screaming.
"Good girl," he said. "Keep it up. Come while you look at me."
First post here!
I'm a little nervous, but here we go! I usually post imagines on TikTok (@beeelbyb, yes, same @ as here), and over there I write everything in my native languageâPortuguese. So if you notice any weird sentences or odd word choices, that's why! đ
English isn't my strongest skill, so my writing might not be the smoothest or most polished, but I promise I put my heart into every single imagine I create. I just really love writing and sharing these little stories with all of you.
I hope you can look past the grammar mistakes and enjoy the vibes anyway. Feel free to leave a comment or just say hiâI'd love to meet you! Hope you like what I write. đ€
This imagine right here is Part 1 of 2 â so stay tuned for the second part coming soon! đ