#hotd#daeron targaryen#aemond targaryen#daemon targaryen#helaena targaryen
seen from Morocco
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Tunisia
seen from Russia
seen from Sweden
seen from Russia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from Morocco
seen from Mexico
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Spain
hear me out... levi with messy bed head
anon, you got me, gal.
☆ you know things aren't neat when you wake up—sheets, clothes, pillows—but you don't expect levi's hair to be one of them—and to the point of disaster, at that.
☾ cw: none!
when you wake up for the first time next to levi, you don’t expect his bedhead to be so disastrous.
you try not to laugh when you see it. you really do. but it starts as a tiny breath through your nose, then becomes helplessly loud, because humanity’s strongest soldier looks like he lost a fight with his pillow and barely survived.
levi turns his head slowly to look at you. “something funny?”
“no,” you say, obviously lying. he narrows his eyes in drowsy irritation. you sit up and reach for him, and he freezes as you slide your fingers into his hair, gently smoothing the stubborn pieces back into place.
he closes his eyes briefly, a small surrender. he almost thinks of swatting your hand away, the designation of you being annoying resting on the tip of his tongue. protecting his dignity is important. but it’s not more important than the smile on your face. so, he leans closer, and it nearly makes your heart trip. then you see his ears turning a light shade of pink.
“there,” you say, his hair finally tamed. “very scary again.”
levi catches your wrist before you can pull away. “keep laughing and i’ll mess yours up worse.” you grin. he kisses your palm anyway.
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tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @y44washere4somereason @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @elegantmakercoffee @444anya @miaszt @astersfantasies @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @caliope13 @starfallenlevi @tea-rae @starryscara @starlighttitan @leviholics @angelbearknyyy @tallvanillalatte @gingerbreadsnail @myfreespirit23
divider by: diviniyae
⊱˙.✧ Before I Lose You
☆ Summary: The Survey Corps teaches soldiers how to live with loss. Levi realizes he'd rather confess than learn how to live without you.
☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Gender-Neutral Reader
☆ Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Love Confession, Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff
☆ Content Warnings: Canon-typical violence, blood and injury
☆ Word Count: 1.4k
☆ Requested by Anonymous | Drabble Game #1 #133 Can you not see that I love you? That I've always loved you? #151 I've waited so long to hear this. #155 If you die on me after everything I'd done for you... I'll never forgive you.
☆ AO3 Link
☆ a/n: please don't ask for a part two or i'll go into public and scream about levi's buttcheeks
[ Art by hilu.art ]
Dawn rises over headquarters in a pale grey. It’s cold enough that every breath fogs in front of every soldier preparing in the courtyard. Horses stomp impatiently against the half-frozen ground. The clinking of buckles, blades, and ODM gear mingle with small conversations.
You’re pulling the final strap around your thigh when Levi appears beside you without warning. “Hold still,” he says. You look down as he grabs the loose end of your harness and tugs it before checking the buckle himself.
“I’ve been doing this for years,” you remind him.
“And somehow, you’re still careless.”
You see the short hesitation when his hand brushes your side, the warmth of his hand lingering through your uniform. It means nothing—that’s what you’ve been telling yourself, anyway. It always means nothing.
“You worry too much,” you say, trying to drown the beating of your heart with light teasing.
Levi straightens himself, irritation flashing across his face. “You give me too many reasons.”
Before you can answer, he walks away toward his horse, though not without looking back once to make sure you’re following him. He always looks back. You’ve spent too long pretending not to notice it.
But you always do.
.
The expedition remains quiet until the Scouts reach the abandoned village three kilometers from the wall, where ruined houses lean against one another and broken roof beams claw toward the sky.
Then the warning flare rises. Red smoke rises above the eastern edge of the village as shouting erupts. Within moments, Titans emerge between the buildings, their footsteps shaking loose tiles from the rooftops.
Erwin’s orders cut through the chaos. “Get above them! Do not let yourselves get boxed in!”
You fire your hooks into a stone chimney and rise, gas hissing as you swing toward the nearest roof. Levi moves through the village a few buildings ahead. His eyes snap toward you. Checking the formation, he would claim. Checking you, your foolish heart insists.
A scream rips through the air. A young soldier stands frozen on a rooftop, staring at the abnormal charging toward him with its unusually long arms sweeping through the street. Levi changes direction immediately, but he’s too far away.
You aren’t. You propel yourself forward, hook your arms around the soldier, and wrench him from the roof just as the Titan’s hand crashes through the building. The impact shatters the tiles beneath you. Your anchor loosens.
Then you fall through splintered timber. A jagged beam slices deep along your side before you hit the ground, pain exploding through your ribs. Somewhere nearby, the younger soldier calls your name, but his voice sounds strangely distant, muffled beneath the pounding in your skull. Warmth spread beneath your uniform. Too much warmth. You press a shaking hand against your side and pull it away slick with blood.
No. No, that is far too much.
The abnormal doesn’t get to take another step. Levi descends and carves through its nape so viciously that blood sprays and steam erupts across the street. He lands beside you before the Titan’s body begins falling, his shoes skidding through dust as he drops to one knee.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he barks.
You try to smile, though your lips feel numb. “Good to see you too.”
Then Levi sees the blood. His face changes; the anger remains, but there’s something so nakedly terrified that you almost don’t recognize him.
“Move your hand,” he orders.
“It’s fine—”
“Move it.”
You obey, sighing. The moment your hand lifts, blood wells through the torn fabric. Levi presses part of his cloak hard against the wound. The pain rips a cry from you.
“Stay awake,” he says.
“I am.” Your eyelids flutter despite the lie. Levi’s free hand cups the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. His hand trembles slightly.
“You’re going to be fine,” he says.
You want to believe him. You want to tell him all the things you’ve swallowed for years, but your vision is blurring, the world is dimming, and the words refuse to form.
“I’m tired, Levi,” you whisper.
“No,” he says. “If you die on me after everything I’ve done for you… I’ll never forgive you.”
You manage to grip his wrist weakly. “I’ll try not to inconvenience you.”
“Shut up.” But he bends closer as he says it, his forehead nearly touching yours while he keeps pressure against your side.
He refuses to let anyone else carry you back.
.
When you wake, the infirmary is dark except for a low-burning lamp beside your bed. Bandages wrap tightly around your midsection, and every breath is painful, pulling at the stitches along your side. Your mouth is dry, your body is heavy, but you’re alive.
Levi sits in a chair beside you. His arms are folded, his head tilted forward, though the instant you move beneath the blanket, he opens his eyes.
“You look terrible,” you whisper.
“You nearly bled to death, and that’s what you have to say?” he scoffs.
Relief surges through him so fiercely that it almost makes him angry all over again. He’s spent hours listening to your shaky breathing, imagining if silence will ever replace it, and now you’re awake and joking as if you didn’t nearly die.
“How long have you been here?” you ask.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Levi stands and reaches for the cup of water beside your bed, helping you lift your head just enough to drink. His touch is careful, but you can still see the tension in his jaw.
“You broke formation,” he says.
“That soldier would have died.”
“You almost died instead.”
“But I didn’t.”
Levi freezes. You misunderstand his silence, shame gathering in you. He’s angry. You endangered the mission, forced him to carry you back, and became one more responsibility he never asked for. You wouldn’t be surprised if he hates you right now.
“You don’t have to stay,” you say softly. “I know you have more important things to do.”
He looks at you, bewildered. For years, Levi has checked your equipment when he didn’t need to, memorized your position in every formation, endured your awful tea when you insisted on making it for him, and watched you walk away after countless evenings together because he could never find the courage to ask you to stay. And somehow, you still don’t know.
“Can you not see that I love you? That I’ve always loved you?” The confession leaves him harshly, almost angrily, and the room falls into a hush in response. He looks away first, regret filling his expression. Regret for exposing his love, for placing the most fragile thing he could have between you.
You lift your hand from under the blanket and grab his hand, tears welling in your eyes. “Levi…” He turns back slowly, raising his eyes to meet yours. You let out a soft laugh, one of both disbelief and relief. “I’ve waited so long to hear this.”
“You—”
“I love you too,” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his. “I knew your idea of affection was criticizing everything I do.”
“Everything you do needs criticizing.”
A breathless laugh escapes you, causing a flare of pain in your side. His expression softens, though you still see the remaining uncertainty in the slight furrow of his brows. Levi Ackerman can face Titans without hesitation, but apparently, what he’s about to do requires more courage than any battle.
He cups your cheek with his hand. The first touch of his lips is gentle, almost restrained, but when you kiss him back, he inhales sharply, and years of unspoken longing translates through the pressure of his mouth against yours. You don’t deepen the kiss—neither of you wants to. Not now. Not when everything still feels so fragile. This is enough.
When he pulls away, he brushes your hair back with his fingers. “Never do that to me again,” he murmurs.
“Is that an order?” you tease.
“Yes.”
You smile, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “So does this mean you’ll stop insulting me?”
Levi presses one more kiss to your forehead, the love he holds for you finally outweighing the fear still lingering in his eyes.
“You wish.”
MASTERLIST ♡ JOIN THE TAGLIST ♡ AO3 ♡ WATTPAD ♡ KO-FI
tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @d1leviglazer @y44washere4somereason @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @elegantmakercoffee @444anya @miaszt @naxymoon @bxcketbarnes @caliope13 @starfallenlevi @altpsyche @tea-rae @starryscara @leviholics @angelbearknyyy
divider by: sweetmelodygraphics
☆ making out with levi gets him a little more hot and bothered than he wants to admit. and he will not admit it.
☾ this was requested by anonymous!
☆ cw: making out, nothing crazy
☾ a/n: i got high last night just for u anon just to write this <3
levi has your back pressed against the shelves before the door even fully closes. the dustiness of the closet doesn’t matter to him because his mouth is on yours again, quick and hungry. his hand braces beside your head, fingers gripping the wood, while the other holds your waist.
he kisses you like he argues with others, determined to stay in command, and then you tilt your head and kiss him back harder, and he nearly falls apart. damn you, he thinks, feeling the heat climb all the way to his ears.
you pull back to look at him. his face is unmistakably flushed, a bright red spread across his cheeks. his lips are swollen, his pupils wide.
“you look a little off, captain.”
“i look fine,” he argues.
you smile wickedly. “fine? then why are you blushing like that?” you poke his cheek.
“s-shut up.”
he hates that you can do this to him. he hates that one teasing look from you can leave him feeling lightheaded and hot all over. he hates, more than anything, that he wants more of it.
you lean in until your lips nearly touch his again. “make me.”
levi stares at you, then kisses you again with a frustrated sound in his throat, all pent-up embarrassment and want. he’s trying to hard to seem unaffected. it would be convincing if he weren’t practically shaking.
you slide your fingers into his hair, and the reaction is immediate. he inhales sharply against your mouth, then presses closer. oh for fuck’s sake, he thinks. you can definitely tell. he knows you can, and he feels like an idiot.
when you kiss the corner of his mouth, then trail lower to his jaw, he nearly loses what remains of his dignity. “you’re cute like this,” you say.
levi makes a strangled noise that might have passed for a scoff if it wasn’t so out of breath. “cute?”
“mhm.” you press your lips to his, smiling against them when he follows you the moment you start to pull away. “flustered. all clingy and red like a damn tomato.”
“i am not clingy.” he says it while holding your waist with both hands now. he drops his forehead to yours for a moment, trying to collect himself though the effort is pointless. his breath fans warm across your lips. his eyes stay half-lidded, dazed but filled with want.
“this is your fault,” he mutters. “you keep provoking me.”
you brush your nose against his. “and you keep kissing me back.”
levi has no retort. he only stares at you, red to the tips of his ears, and then his expression shifts. “tch. then stop talking.”
he doesn’t bother trying to hide it anymore. he’ll own his flushed face anytime if it means getting to be this close to you.
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tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @y44washere4somereason @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @elegantmakercoffee @444anya @miaszt @astersfantasies @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @caliope13 @starfallenlevi @tea-rae @starryscara @starlighttitan
divider by: diviniyae
⊱˙.✧ Sleep-Talk
☆ Summary: Levi Ackerman is careful with his words and impossible to catch off guard with his feelings—unless, apparently, he’s asleep.
☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Gender Neutral Reader
☆ Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Love Confession, Soft Levi Ackerman, Levi Ackerman is Bad At Feelings, Domestic Fluff
☆ Word Count: 1.4k
☆ AO3 Link
☆ Check out the other fics in this collection!
☆ a/n: Day 4 out of 7 for my birthday week celebration! please don’t ask for a part two I will ask a priest whether lusting after Levi counts if he isn’t real.
For the first time since you knew him, Levi falls asleep before you. Which would be less surprising if he hadn’t spent the last twenty minutes insisting that he isn’t tired.
He sits beside you on the bed in his quarters with a stack of papers balanced against one knee. He intends to win the war against his exhaustion, but his eyes keep lowering, his grip on the papers keep loosening, and every few seconds, his head dips just enough for him to jerk it upright again with a faint scowl.
“You should sleep, you know,” you say, watching the candlelight flicker across his face.
“I’m fine,” he mutters.
You’re not even surprised he’s not listening. Levi could be bleeding through his clothes and actively collapsing into a ditch, and he would still look at you dead in the eye and call it a scratch. You hum, unconvinced, but you know better than to argue with him directly when he’s already decided to be impossible. You lie back against the pillows instead and let the silence do the talking, filled only by the faint rustle of paper when he reads another line.
Two minutes later, Levi lies back against the pillow next to you, reports still in hand.
One minute after that, the report slides from his fingers.
And then, finally, he sleeps.
He always looks different when he sleeps. Awake, he’s hard and controlled, every muscle held tight as if bracing for impact every second of the day, his expression tightened before it can reveal too much. Asleep, though, he looks much younger, almost fragile. You know he would hate you thinking that. His mouth is relaxed from its usual tight line.
You reach carefully for the papers, meaning to set them aside before they get bent, but before you can touch them, Levi grabs your wrist. It’s a soft, sleep-heavy grab. His fingers wrap around you, and you freeze, your breath caught in your throat. Before you can decide whether to pull away or stay still, he tugs you closer with an irritated sound.
“Levi?” you whisper, more amused than concerned, but he doesn’t wake up. He only shifts until his forehead brushes against your shoulder, his hand sliding from your wrist to your waist. Even now, he reaches for you.
Then he murmurs, barely audible against your shirt, “Love you.”
You freeze. All goes quiet, except for the sparking flame of the candle and the creaking of the old wood around you, but all of it seems too far away from you right now as those two simple words land somewhere deep in your gut.
You stare down at him, stunned. Levi Ackerman, who is never tender, who is never affectionate nor vulnerable, has just said he loves you. Waiting for the one moment he’s too exhausted to guard the door.
“Oh,” you breathe, and you smile before you can stop it. “You’re ridiculous.”
He gives no answer and only wraps his arm further around you by the smallest amount. Carefully, you lower yourself beside him, pulling the blanket over both of you while he makes another soft, sleepy sound and follows your body without waking. Your hand hovers for a second over his hair before you give in and brush a few dark strands away from his face.
“Love you too,” you whisper, so quietly that you think only you can hear it. “But I’m absolutely making fun of you tomorrow.”
.
By morning, Levi has returned to himself.
He’s awake before you, dressed except for the cravat still hanging loose around his neck, standing near the small table with tea already poured and the blanket folded at the foot of the bed. He looks completely normal. He definitely does not remember what happened last night, and if he does, he’s very good at pretending it never happened.
Unfortunately for him, you have a good memory, and you are absolutely not letting this one go.
“You’re staring,” he says without looking at you.
“You’re sweet when you’re asleep,” you say.
That makes him pause, a tiny hesitation in the movement of his hand as he reaches for his cup, but you see it, because you’re looking out for any minute detail that might let you in on what he’s thinking and possibly hiding. Your smile widens. Levi looks at you from the corner of his eye.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asks.
You sit up slowly, pulling the blanket around your shoulders as you smile again. “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Well,” you say, drawing out the word just enough to make him narrow his eyes in suspicion, “you were very affectionate last night.”
His mouth flattens. “When?”
“After you fell asleep.”
He scoffs. “I was asleep.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Oh, it counts,” you laugh, nodding, absolutely convinced.
He turns toward you fully now, the tea forgotten in his hand. You watch the first sign of worry pass across his face as memory fails him completely. “What did I do?”
You rest your chin in your palm, taking your sweet time because Levi looks like he’s trying to brace for impact while pretending he’s completely calm, which is, frankly, adorable.
“You reached for me,” you say, and his eye twitches. “Pulled me closer.” He clenches his jaw. “Mumbled into my shoulder.” He flicks his eyes away. “And told me you loved me.”
For a second, Levi doesn’t move at all. Then the tips of his ears go red. Not possibly-red-if-you-squint. Red. A betraying flush creeps up from beneath his collar and spreads across his cheekbones before he turns toward the table, suddenly fascinated by the existence of his teacup.
“I didn’t,” he mumbles.
“You did,” you argue.
“I don’t talk in my sleep.”
“Apparently you do when you’re being romantic.”
“I wasn’t being romantic. I was unconscious.”
“I don’t know, you sounded pretty convincing.”
Levi makes a strangled sound under his breath, caught between a scoff and a curse. If you had any decency, you would stop there; but the sight of him stiff with embarrassment, ears burning while he tries to rebuild his dignity, is too precious to waste.
“You also grabbed my waist,” you add.
“I was asleep,” he repeats.
“You seemed very determined.”
“I said I was fucking asleep.”
“You were very cute.”
His gaze snaps back to you, horrified. “Don’t call me that.”
“Cute?”
“Don’t.”
“Sweet.” His blush deepens. “Oh, you like that one, huh?”
Levi sets his cup down with enough care that suggests he’s either seconds away from leaving the room or burying his face in his hands with the intent to never rise. You soften your teasing—you don’t want to go too far.
“Levi,” you say, gentler now.
He doesn’t look at you immediately, but when he finally does, his expression is once again guarded. But it’s not cold, not with you. Beneath the scowl he wears is an almost wounded shyness. The thought of having been heard clearly scares him more than he wants to admit.
“I’m not laughing at you,” you say.
“That is exactly what you’re doing,” he says.
“Okay, maybe a little,” you concede, because lying to him would be pointless. “But not because of that.” His throat works once. You hold his gaze, your heartbeat suddenly too loud in your own ears. “I liked hearing it.”
For a moment, Levi looks trapped between retreat and confession, between pride and the truth his sleeping self already handed over without permission. You can see the thoughts moving behind his eyes, irritated and flustered.
Damn it. Damn it. Of all the stupid ways to say it first, he thinks. He looks away again, but it’s not enough to hide him anymore.
“Wasn’t wrong,” he mutters.
Your heart stumbles. “What wasn’t?” you ask.
He flexes his fingers once at his side. “What I said.”
You know better than to push too hard, but you’re only human, and he’s standing there with red ears and a confession caught between his teeth, so you tilt your head and ask, “You love me?”
Levi glares at the floor. He doesn’t know whether to spill the truth or not, but it seems he already did last night. He says, in a voice low enough to sound almost angry, “I love you.”
The teasing dies inside you. He knows what he’s saying this time. And though his face is still turned half away, though his ears and face are still burning and his shoulders are tense and he feels like he’s wandered into a battlefield without his equipment, he stays there with you.
So, you smile and reach for his hand. He looks at your fingers, hesitates only long enough to prove he’s still Levi, and then lets you take it.
“There,” he mutters. “Happy?”
You lace your fingers through his. “Very.”
“Tch.” His thumb brushes, barely there, across the back of your hand. “Annoying brat.”
MASTERLIST ♡ JOIN THE TAGLIST ♡ AO3 ♡ WATTPAD ♡ KO-FI
tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @d1leviglazer @y44washere4somereason @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @elegantmakercoffee @444anya @miaszt @astersfantasies @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @bxcketbarnes @caliope13 @starfallenlevi @altpsyche @tea-rae
divider by: sweetmelodygraphics
⊱˙.✧ Powerline Valley
☆ Summary: You only meant to find a quiet park for the afternoon. Instead, you find a field, a sunset, and a secret place that belongs only to you and Levi.
☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Gender Neutral Reader
☆ Genre/Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship, Date, Slice of Life, Soft Levi Ackerman, Fluff
☆ Word Count: 1.3k
☆ AO3 Link
☆ Check out the other fics in this collection!
☆ a/n: Day 3 out of 7 for my birthday week celebration! This is based off of real life. I have my own little Powerline Valley :) thank you to my beta reader @slaytherinthoughts <3 please don’t ask for a part two I will ask a tattoo artist whether “property of Levi Ackerman” is too subtle.
[ I could not find the original artist. If anyone knows who the OC is, please tell me so I can credit them properly! ]
The moment you pull up to Windy Ridge Park, you realize it’s not a park at all.
The name in your navigation app suggests a place with playground equipment and swaying grass and plenty of wooden benches, so when Levi pulls into a quiet residential neighborhood and pulls up at the very end of the cul-de-sac, you’re already suspicious. You look at your app again, then you look up at the row of houses. The image does not match at all.
“This can’t be right,” you say, glancing at Levi, who still has one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the gearshift.
“It says we’re here,” he says.
“It must be wrong,” you mumble.
“Considering it said to turn left into someone’s driveway two minutes ago, I don’t doubt that.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to hold back your laugh. He sounds unbelievably offended by the inaccurate directions. Levi looks at you, catches the laughter you’re trying to hide, and his mouth curves slightly. But he refuses to smile fully. Not unlike him, unfortunately. He still parks.
You both exit the car and follow the navigation app. The trail begins behind an iron fence meant to keep out ATV’s. The path has been flattened by feet or deer or possibly local teenagers sneaking out to do whatever local teenagers do in the countryside. You slip around the fence through a gap and walk through the path, your shoes crunching over sticks and branches.
Then the trees open, and you confirm without a doubt that you are not in the right place. Windy Ridge Park isn’t a park, but a field. A huge, sloped field with powerlines spanning overhead, standing dark against the pale sky.
For a second, you just stare. Levi stands beside you, hands by his sides, expression blank as he processes both the absurdity and your inevitable reaction to it.
“Well,” he says at last. “Romantic.”
You laugh so abruptly that you have to cover your mouth. The sound startles a group of crows from the grass. Levi looks at you like you’re both ridiculous and like you’re the only thing worth looking at out here.
“It’s beautiful, though,” you insist.
“Powerlines are a safety hazard,” Levi mutters.
“You’re so negative.”
“I’m just being realistic.”
“You’re allergic to whimsy.”
“I’m allergic to dying under a powerline because you thought a field was pretty.”
Your mood should have been ruined by his negativity and the fact that you’re standing in a not-park beneath powerlines in the middle of nowhere, but you’re somewhat glad that the pictures didn’t match reality. A real park would have had people and screaming children and signs telling you where to go. Out here, this place has nothing but wind, grass and metal towers, and Levi standing with you.
You and Levi approach the powerlines and sit underneath them, far from the tower. The grass is slightly dry. You sit close enough that your knees touch, but neither of you says anything. You just sit and watch the sun as it sets on the horizon. Wind ripples through the grass, tugging at your and Levi’s hair. You find yourself watching him more than the view. It’s nice to see him unguarded, when no one is demanding anything of him and there’s no pressing tasks to face.
“What?” Levi asks suddenly, without turning his head. He must have known you were looking. You’re not surprised—he always knows.
“Nothing.”
“That usually means something.”
“It means you look pretty.”
He flicks his gaze toward you, but you see the softening of his eyes. It passes through him so quickly that anyone who wasn’t as devoted as you to studying the minute signals and signs in his body language wouldn’t catch.
“Pretty?” he repeats flatly.
“Beautiful, then.”
He huffs, but his ears betray him reddening. You hold back a smile. You pull out your phone before he can object and snap a picture of him sitting in the field, his face calm and devastatingly handsome. The setting makes him look almost poetic.
“Delete that,” he says.
“Nope,” you say.
“I wasn’t ready.”
“That’s why candids exist.”
“You’re insufferable.” He gives you a look that could probably curdle milk, so naturally, you take another picture, and then another.
At some point, the annoyance fades into a faint tolerance and then a fonder feeling. He lets you take photos of him, because the alternative is taking away something that makes you happy.
You catch him looking away. Looking at you. Looking down at the grass with the faintest curve at his lips. Each picture is just proof of your love for him. Proof that he's still here, even after everything. Proof that he trusts you.
When you scroll through the photos you took, then look up, you see Levi pointing his phone at you. He quickly lowers it. You blink rapidly.
“Did you just take a picture of me?” you ask.
“Yes.”
“Correction. Did you just sneakily take a picture of me?”
“You took thirty of me.”
“That's different.”
“No it’s not.”
You giggle and reach for his phone, but he lifts it just out of reach, his other hand grabbing your wrist before you can climb over him. You realize how close you are then, your body leaning into his space, your faces inches apart. Your laughter fades as his eyes track every feature of your face.
You see the photo for one second before he tilts the screen away. It’s you in the grass, wind in your hair, a soft smile on your face as the sunset washes you in gold.
“Vi,” you say, softer now.
He isn’t even minutely embarrassed. He doesn’t deflect either, and just looks at the picture for another few seconds, taps the screen, and sets it as his lock screen. “There,” he says.
You stare at him. “You’re keeping it?”
“I took it, didn’t I?”
You’d normally tease him, but the feeling in your stomach overflows, butterflies spilling out. Levi looks at you and whatever smart remark you were brainstorming dissolves under his gaze.
So you kiss him. Or maybe he kisses you first. It doesn’t matter. His mouth is warm against yours, his hand sliding to the side of your face, making your breath catch. The entire field disappears for a few seconds, and all that remains is the wind, the static-like sound of the powerlines, and the plushness of his lips.
When you pull back, you rest your forehead against his, your hand now placed on his thigh. “I wish we could stay here forever,” you whisper.
Levi’s thumb moves once along your cheek, barely there. Forever is impossible, but he doesn’t say it, even though you both know it is. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment with his usual practical nonsense. He breathes out slowly.
“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”
You smile and look out across the field again. The powerlines sway slightly in the wind. They’re so high above you, but they still feel within reach of your heart that the sight locks itself away permanently inside you.
“Powerline Valley,” you announce.
“What?” Levi says.
“That’s the name. I’m naming this place Powerline Valley.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Why are you so against it?”
“It’s an awful name.”
You mock offense. “How dare you! It’s literally perfect.”
“Perfect to get electrocuted in.”
“It’s our secret place.”
That gets him to shut up. He doesn’t exactly agree, but the phrase secret place promises future visits. It promises more sunsets and sunrises and stargazing and if he’s lucky, a picnic. The thought has him reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. After a moment, he looks out toward the open space, then back at you, smiling enough to make your heart stop.
“Fine,” he says. “Powerline Valley.”
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tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @d1leviglazer @y44washere4somereason @ddilfs4life @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @elegantmakercoffee @444anya @miaszt @astersfantasies @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @bxcketbarnes @caliope13 @starfallenlevi @altpsyche @tea-rae
divider by me
⊱˙.✧ Come Back to Me
☆ Day 28 of Swoon June | First kiss | Event by @swoon-june
☆ Summary: Before a mission, you try to say what’s been sitting between you for far too long, but Levi won’t let you. Instead, he gives you something harder to walk away from.
☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Gender-Neutral Reader
☆ Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff
☆ Content Warnings: Slight angst
☆ Word Count: 1.0k
☆ Check out the other days!
☆ AO3 Link
☆ a/n: thank you to my beta reader @slaytherinthoughts as always! <3 I had a great time with this event! I'm glad I didn't do all the days, I didn't want to run myself into the ground. I hope you all enjoyed the works I wrote for this event. also please do not ask for a part two or I’ll crash a wedding and tell the DJ to announce me as Levi Ackerman’s wife.
The room is silent.
It always is before a mission. The world always feels like it’s holding its breath along with everyone else. You’re standing in the hallway, fingers tightening and loosening around the straps of your gear as you pretend to check them for the third time before you head outside to join everyone else.
You don’t need to check them. You’re just stalling. Your mind is entirely somewhere else, focused on only one person. Just say it. The thought presses at the back of your mind, but every time it surfaces, your heart wrenches and you swallow it back down again. Because what if—
No.
You sigh and steady yourself, gaze flicking up toward the door before shifting to the source of the footsteps approaching you from your left. Levi stands a few paces away, spine straight. He’s always had perfect posture. He looks normal, like this is just another mission, just another day, like this expedition doesn’t affect him as much as it does you.
It does, though. You know it does. You’ve known him too long. Long enough that this—whatever this is—has had time to grow into something you can’t ignore anymore. It sits in your gut every time you look at him, every time you fight beside him, every time you think what if this is the last time?
His eyes wander over you, assessing your gear with that precise eye he has. There’s a subtle shift in his stance as you turn and walk toward him, already accounting for you in his space without thinking about it.
“Straps are fine,” you say before he can speak. “I checked them three times already.”
He huffs out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh, though it doesn’t quite reach that point. “Yeah. I figured.”
Silence settles between you. It’s not uncomfortable silence—it’s familiar to you by now. Oftentimes, you would just sit in his office while reading something or doing your own paperwork while he did his own work. You were used to just existing in each other’s presence. However, it feels slightly different this time. You ball your hands into fists at your side. Say it.
“If we don’t make it back—” you try.
“Don’t,” he says.
You shake your head slightly, a little caught off guard, your eyebrows drawing together as you look at him. “I just—” you start again, softer this time. The words feel easier to say when you lower your voice. “There are things I didn’t—”
“Don’t.” It comes out lower this time. Levi’s jaw clenches, a flicker of something you can’t name passing through his expression for just a second before it’s gone again and buried under his control. He doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to stand here in this moment with the possibility of neither of you returning hanging between you like a swinging pendulum, your lives on either side of its sway. Because if you say it—if you say it out loud—then it becomes real. Then it becomes something he has to take with him into the field. Then it becomes something he can lose. And that’s not something he’s willing to take on.
You stare at him, your heart almost aching. You refuse to stay quiet. You need to say it before it spills out of your control. “Levi,” you say, more firmly now, taking a small step closer. Your voice trembles just slightly despite your best efforts to steady it. “I need to—”
He surges forward before you can finish. His hand catches your wrist, firm but not rough, keeping you in place as his other hand comes up to your jaw, fingers warm against your skin, tilting your face toward his before you can process what’s happening.
Then he kisses you.
It’s a sudden, urgent movement, a desire that’s been held back for far too long, finally snapping free. His lips press against yours with a force that steals the breath from your lungs, that leaves no room for the words you were trying to say.
For a split second, you freeze. Then your surprise gives way, and your fingers clutch at the front of his jacket as you lean into it, into him, into the reality of it. All you feel is this moment, this contact, him. It’s messy, but it only mirrors the reality of your relationship with him. But you think you’ve finally gained control of it.
When he pulls back, it’s not far. Just enough that your breaths mingle, uneven, that your foreheads nearly touch, that his hand is still at your jaw, not trusting himself to let go yet. Silence crashes in. Your heart is pounding too fast, your mind scrambling to catch up and make sense of what just happened.
“Levi…” you whisper. His grip on you tightens slightly, enough to keep you there. Your mind screams at you to just say it, but the words don’t come the same way anymore. Because now you know it’s not just a possibility hanging between you. It wasn’t just subtle signs that could have been completely innocent. His feelings are real. Your feelings are real. And that only makes you both something the other can lose.
His gaze flicks over your face, searching, uncertain in a way he never lets anyone see, like he’s bracing for something. He’s waiting for you to say something that will either fix this or break it completely.
“Don’t,” he mutters again, less like an order and more like a plea.
You swallow, your hand gripping his jacket tighter as your thumb brushes faintly against the fabric. “I wasn’t going to say goodbye,” you say.
That makes him freeze completely. “What?”
You take a slow breath and keep your gaze steady on him, despite the butterflies filling your stomach. “I was going to say I’d come back. To you.”
Levi doesn’t respond immediately, nor does he move, but his hand shifts, just slightly, sliding from your jaw to the back of your neck. Don’t die, he thinks, the words resting on the tip of his tongue. Come back to me.
“You will,” he says instead.
You nod. “I will.”
You keep your promise. And when Levi sees you again, alive beneath the blood and dirt, the relief in his eyes says everything neither of you had been brave enough to say.
His kiss says the rest.
MASTERLIST ♡ JOIN THE TAGLIST ♡ AO3 ♡ WATTPAD ♡ KO-FI
tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @d1leviglazer @y44washere4somereason @ddilfs4life @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @elegantmakercoffee @miaszt @astersfantasies @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @bxcketbarnes @caliope13 @altpsyche
divider by: sweetmelodygraphics
⊱˙.✧ Body Heat
☆ Day 21 of Swoon June | Huddling for warmth | Event by @swoon-june
☆ Summary: The power goes out during a snowstorm. You’re freezing. Levi becomes a very effective heater.
☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Gender-Neutral Reader
☆ Genre/Tags: Modern AU, Best Friends to Potential Lovers, Pre-Relationship Romance, Soft Levi Ackerman, Forced Proximity, Fluff
☆ Word Count: 0.8k
☆ Check out the other days!
☆ AO3 Link
☆ a/n: thank you to my beta reader @slaytherinthoughts! don’t ask for a part two I will ask the Geek Squad if my laptop is tired from writing too much smut.
[ Art by 44GE5 on Twitter ]
“You’re shaking.”
You glare at Levi from beneath the fortress of blankets currently piled around your shoulders, the thin beam of his flashlight illuminating the living room while the rest of the apartment sits in powerless, cold darkness.
“I’m not shaking,” you insist. Your teeth immediately chatter. Levi raises his eyebrows.
Outside, the winter storm continues rattling the windows, the wind howling faintly. The power went out about twenty minutes ago, and apparently, the entire apartment decided to lose all of its warmth within thirty seconds.
You burrow deeper into the blankets on the couch, wrapping them around yourself. “I can’t feel my fingers,” you mutter.
Levi, meanwhile, sits in the armchair across from you looking completely unbothered, one ankle resting casually over his knee while he holds a book open in one hand and the flashlight in the other like this is just another mildly inconvenient evening. Your eyes narrow.
“How are you not cold?”
Levi turns a page. “I run warm.”
“Shut up. That’s not a real explanation.”
“It is.”
You stare at him. Your best friend is wearing a t-shirt. A t-shirt. Meanwhile you’re wearing two sweaters and wrapped in approximately half the linens in your apartment and still feel like your soul might leave your body due to hypothermia.
“You’re unbelievable,” you mumble.
Levi glances up briefly. “You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m freezing.” You stick your hand out from the blanket pile and wiggle your fingers miserably. “They’re numb.”
Levi watches the performance for a moment, eyes flicking from your blanket cocoon to the way your shoulders continue trembling. Then he sighs. It’s the specific Levi sigh—the one that means he has accepted the inevitability of helping you.
“You’re wasting energy shivering,” he says.
“What?” you ask.
He lowers the book. “Body heat.” You stare. Levi gestures toward the couch beside you with the flashlight. “Move over.” Your brain takes a second to process what he’s saying, and he must see the inner turmoil because he then says, “Don’t overthink it. I’m just solving the problem.”
You hesitate before saying, “By cuddling me.”
“By preventing you from freezing to death so you stop complaining,” he corrects. Your heart does a traitorous little flip anyway. It’s practical. It’s purely practical.
“Fine,” you say, trying very hard to sound casual. You shift sideways on the couch, making space beneath the mountain of blankets. Levi stands, crossing the room in a few quiet steps before sitting beside you. Immediately you feel the heat radiating off him. Your eyes widen. “Oh my god. You’re like a heater.”
He gives you a pointed look. “Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it.”
You scoot closer instantly. “Too late.”
Levi sighs again but doesn’t move away as you cautiously lift the edge of the blanket and tug it over both of you. The couch dips slightly beneath your combined weight, your shoulder brushing lightly against his arm. He’s so warm. You let out a long sigh.
“Oh wow,” you whisper.
Levi watches you out of the corner of his eye. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I was dying.”
“You were fine.”
“No, I was definitely dying.”
You shift slightly closer, the blanket wrapping more securely around both of you as the warmth spreads through your arms and legs like someone turned your circulation back on. Your body slowly relaxes. Your head tilts slightly toward him.
“You’re seriously so warm, Lee,” you say. You glance up at him.
Levi is looking back down at his book again, the flashlight balanced carefully so the beam illuminates the page. His shoulder rests lightly against yours. His warmth seeps through the blanket. You feel oddly comfortable. Safe, even. You stop yourself before your thoughts can wander. You don’t want to make this weird.
You stare very intensely at the opposite wall. The silence stretches comfortably between you for a moment. Then you inch a little closer. Levi doesn’t react. You wait. Nothing. Encouraged, you lean slightly into his shoulder. Still nothing. Success. Your head eventually tips sideways until it rests lightly against him. Levi pauses turning the page.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Very,” you say. You close your eyes briefly, enjoying the warmth. “Seriously though, you’re like a human furnace.” Levi huffs quietly. A moment of silence passes between you, one that you can both sit in while you’re both doing your own thing. You then add, “Thanks.”
Levi looks down at you, his eyes softening. “For what?”
“For sharing your heat.”
He studies you for a moment, then he turns the page again. Is he even reading it? “You were cold.”
You smile a little more at the simplicity of the answer. You feel impossibly warm now. Your eyelids grow heavy. You move closer without thinking. Levi shifts the blanket higher around your shoulders. You might never leave this couch again.
When you finally fall asleep against him, Levi sighs quietly and closes the book. The page can wait.
MASTERLIST ♡ JOIN THE TAGLIST ♡ AO3 ♡ WATTPAD ♡ KO-FI
tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @d1leviglazer @y44washere4somereason @ddilfs4life @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @elegantmakercoffee @miaszt @astersfantasies @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @bxcketbarnes @caliope13
divider by: finneganstravels
⊱˙.✧ Under the Storm
☆ Day 17 of Swoon June | Lightning | Event by @swoon-june
☆ Summary: You don’t like thunderstorms, but you refuse to admit it—until Levi quietly gives you an excuse not to face it alone.
☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Gender-Neutral Reader
☆ Genre/Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Soft Levi Ackerman, Domestic Fluff
☆ Word Count: 0.9k
☆ Check out the other days!
☆ AO3 Link
☆ a/n: don’t ask for a part two or I’ll tell a waiter my date is invisible because he’s fictional.
[ I could not find the original artist. If anyone knows who the OC is, please tell me so I can credit them properly! ]
The storm arrives quietly with a distant rumble that could be mistaken for a truck passing by. You pretend not to notice it as you sit on the couch with your legs tucked beneath you, scrolling aimlessly through your phone while Levi sits beside you, one arm resting along the back of the couch.
You don’t look at him. You don’t acknowledge the sound. You don’t react when the next rumble comes, a little louder this time, rolling across the sky in a low growl. It’s fine, you think, forcing your attention back to your social media feed. It’s just thunder. It won’t kill you.
You’ve always hated thunderstorms. You’ve hated the unpredictability of them, how the sound appears out of nowhere, how it feels like the sky is cracking open above you. You’ve also always refused to admit that out loud, because it feels childish, because you’re not a kid anymore, because you are absolutely not going to be the person who flinches at a little noise.
Another crack of thunder follows. You don’t flinch. You force yourself not to flinch.
Levi glances at you out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t say anything right away, but he notices how your shoulders are tense, how your thumb stops over your phone for a split second before continuing, and how your breathing shifts just enough that someone who wasn’t paying attention wouldn’t catch it.
He sets his phone down quietly. He realizes you’re scared. How could he have missed this before?
A flash of lightning cuts through the sky, followed almost immediately by a loud groan of thunder that makes the windows rattle faintly. This time, your reaction is harder to hide—a small inhale, your body stiffening for just a second before you force yourself to relax again.
Levi watches you for a moment longer. Then he sighs softly. “You hear that?” he says.
You glance at him, confused. “Yeah. It’s thunder.”
He shifts slightly closer, his tone almost bored. “Yeah. I don’t like that.”
You blink. “You… don’t like thunder?”
He shrugs, looking anywhere but at you. “It’s annoying and loud.”
Another rumble rolls through the sky, louder now, and Levi leans back into the couch slightly, letting his arm drop more firmly behind you, close enough that if you leaned back, he would be touching you.
“I’d rather not sit through this alone,” he adds quietly.
You stare at him. He’s lying. Levi Ackerman—the man who doesn’t flinch at anything, who has walked through life with an unshakeable calmness, who once told you he finds most things “inconvenient at worst”—is absolutely not afraid of thunder. You know that. He knows that.
And yet, he’s lying. For you.
The sky roars again, louder than the last one, and this time you don’t bother pretending to be unafraid. You exhale slowly and set your phone down.
“Fine,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. “I guess I don’t want to sit through it alone either.”
Levi hums quietly, like this was his plan all along. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
You roll your eyes, but you shift closer anyway, your shoulder brushing against his arm as you settle beside him. After a second, he moves his arm around you fully, pulling you in against his side, like it’s not a big deal at all, but it is. It is, because this is still new—this relationship, this closeness, the way you’ve been learning each other over the past few months—and Levi isn’t someone who reaches out like this often, not without a reason.
You rest your head lightly against his shoulder, telling yourself it’s just for the storm, just until it passes, just until the thunder stops sounding so loud in your skull. Another rumble rolls through the sky. You tense slightly. Levi’s hand moves against your arm in a slow, absent motion, his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin.
“It’s just noise,” he mutters.
You almost laugh. He’s the one who said he didn’t like it. You don’t call him out on it. Instead, you inch a little closer, your hand coming up to rest lightly against his chest, your fingers gripping his shirt without thinking. His heartbeat is steady. He’s definitely not scared.
He doesn’t pull away. Another flash of lightning. Another crack of thunder. You lean a little closer this time, your eyes closing briefly as you let out a quiet breath, and Levi’s arm tightens around you just slightly, his chin dipping toward the top of your head.
“I’ve got you,” he says.
Your heart stutters. You don’t respond. You don’t need to, because you understand what he’s doing, because you understand him. And because even if he’s pretending, even if this is his awkward, roundabout way of offering comfort instead of just asking if you need it—it works.
Slowly, the tension leaves your shoulders, your breathing slowing as the storm continues outside. The thunder is loud but no longer overwhelming, no longer something you’re facing alone. You sink further into him, your body relaxing against his. Your thoughts drift as the warmth of his body lulls you into sleep.
You don’t even notice it.
Levi realizes you’ve fallen asleep when your grip on his shirt loosens slightly, your breathing easing into a slow rhythm against him. He glances down at you, expression softening in a way no one else ever gets to see. He adjusts his hold on you just slightly so you’re more comfortable.
Thunder groans and the sound carries through the apartment again. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t need to, because you’re already asleep against him, safe and quiet, and Levi lets out a slow, near-silent breath, his hand still absently moving against your arm.
He doesn’t stop. Not until the storm passes.
Not until long after.
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tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @d1leviglazer @y44washere4somereason @ddilfs4life @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @elegantmakercoffee @miaszt @astersfantasies @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @bxcketbarnes @caliope13
divider by: @pixopix
