His thighs are shaking, the thick lines of muscle quivering on either side on your own. Sitting in your lap like this, Levi is a comfortably heavy weight, pressing you down and rocking your body every time his hips churn.
He's pressed as far into you as possible, chest rising and falling against yours and his face buried into your neck. Every time he whimpers, you can feel the warm wetness of his breath bathing the skin there. And he's whimpering so much. He can't even really speak at this point, only letting out soft desperate little noises or long needy moans.
"Ngg ah please! Please please please," he's chanting nonsensically into your neck. The grip he has on your shoulder tightens and the rolling thrusts he's been fucking into your hand with shorten into abated little jerks. The way his thighs shudder against yours makes you want to dig your fingers into the muscle there, tracing the winding path of a vein.
His cock is so wet in your palm, hot and throbbing with the tip a desperate, dark red. You've been stroking him for so long that he's sticky and slick, the loud tacky sound of your slow strokes serving as the perfect backdrop to his whimpers. Every time he's gotten close, every time he's started swearing at you to let him cum, you've merely slowed down, tightening your grip around his base and just letting him throb. You've lost track of how many times you've brought him to the edge.
"Please please please," Levi continues to chant thoughtlessly into your neck. His shoulders quake, and you can feel wetness blooming again at your neck. "Please. Let me cum. Please-"
You can't help but smile, slowing down your strokes to wrap your palm around his base one last time. His whole body jerks, all the air in his lungs escaping in one long defeated sob. You wanted him like this. All of his bluster gone, all of his cursing gone, just mindless and wet.
His cock pulses in your palm, the tip leaking more and more pre-cum. Shifting you grip, you swirl your thumb along the tip. Levi presses impossibly harder into you, letting loose one long whine. "Please please please-"
"You know what I want." Pressing a kiss to the hair along the top of his head, your free hand shifts, cupping his chin and tilting his head up so that you can pepper the little wrinkles of the crease of his brow with kisses. "Tell me you're pretty. Say it and I'll let you cum."
Levi whines, eyes fluttering and jaw working against your palm. His eyes are shiny with tears and they look so dark, desperate and thoughtless, and his hips churn into your palm in a desperate shudder. "I- " his voice cracks with wetness, "I'm p-pretty."
Smiling, you press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose, stroking him with an urgent speed. His whole body seems to throb and he tries to bury his face back into your neck, but your tighten your grip on his chin, keeping his face up so you can watch his features twist in pleasure. "There we go. Such a good, pretty boy." He throbs in your palm, cheeks darkening even further. You smirk, watching tears well up along his lash line, "How about you say it one more time?"
drabble that suddenly had to come out of me no matter what
Aot finale spoilers, talks of scars and wounds, self-doubt
“Do they ever hurt?” you ask softly, meeting his soft silvery eye with yours.
Levi shrugs unevenly in response, replying vaguely, “Sometimes I get phantom pains. Like they’re still there.”
Gently clasping his hand between yours, you bring his fingers to your lips, tenderly kissing all the little calluses and even the smooth, flawless skin at the tip of each of his fingers. You appreciate every little white knick of a healed scar, savoring the unique texture and history they hold. His nails are perfectly trimmed, and the long digits are almost bony, with knuckles jutting out from his skin and veins visible in trailing blue lines along his palm, resembling twisting rivers.
One by one, you kiss each and every finger until you reach the uneven stubs where his index and pointer fingers used to be. The area is still flushed a dark, upsetting red that makes your chest ache. Despite the passing years, the skin remains rough and sore-looking. Carefully, you lean forward, eyes locked to his. You hear his breath hitch as you oh-so-carefully press the softest of kisses to the stub of his index finger.
“D-don’t,” he breathes, shifting slightly in his seat in embarrassment. Something lingers in the soft grey-blue of his eye, something like embarrassment and shame. “They’re ugly.”
“They’re not,” you tell him, pressing another kiss to his shorn digit. “You’re beautiful, remember? No matter what.”
Levi takes a long, shuddered breath, his shoulders heaving with the strength of his sigh. It’s almost like he deflates a bit, the metal of his wheelchair creaking loudly as his feet shift. His face twists, the large now-mostly-white scar standing out against the pale skin of his cheek. His deadened eye can still move, instinctively tilting up to match the other as his eyes meet yours. “’m not,” he mutters quietly, hissing in pain as he shifts his injured knee. “I- I’m so weak now,” he confesses, his voice laced with frustration and pain.
It’s something he’s complained about quite a few times since the end of the final battle. Not only did he sustain injuries, but the end of Ymir’s curse had also extinguished the Ackerman strength flowing through his veins. He has mentioned feeling empty and hollow, almost fragile in comparison. His slower healing is evident from the still reddened skin of his mangled fingers.
Rising up from your knees, you press a quick kiss to the scar along his cheek. “We’re free now,” you assure him earnestly. “It’s a whole new world. We’re not soldiers anymore, and you don’t have to bear the burden of being the strongest. You have already proven your worth countless times.”
As you speak, your fingertips gently brush back the length of his bangs, exposing his forehead. With utmost care, you place another soft kiss right between his eyebrows, dissolving the tension held there. Then another. And another. Each kiss conveys a message of love and acceptance, a reminder that his worth extends far beyond physical strength.
Levi’s breath hitches again, this time from a mixture of relief and vulnerability. The sound is a bit wet, and there’s a telling moisture welling in the corners of his eyes. He struggles to find the words to respond, mouth opening and closing several times as his shoulders stiffen once again. His eyes, one vibrant and the other dulled by past wounds, seek yours, their depths reflecting the emotions he struggles to express.
“‘m not,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a mix of pain and self-doubt. The fingers of his free hand instinctively reach for his injured knee, a reflex born from habit and discomfort. His voice sounds so small and hollow, “I- I’m broken.”
“No,” the word comes out sharper and louder than you intended, startling the both of you. “No. No you aren’t.” Your hand gently caresses his, providing a sense of comfort and reassurance. “Strength doesn’t define you,” you emphasize, your voice filled with conviction. “And your injuries don't either. I know you feel different now.. powerless.. but you possess a strength that transcends physical abilities. It’s in your resilience, your compassion, and the love you carry within you. That strength will always shine through, no matter what.”
A long, shuddered breath escapes Levi’s lips as he absorbs your words. His shoulders, burdened by the weight of his perceived weakness, begin to ease. The metal of his wheelchair creaks as his feet shift unsteadily. He swallows heavily, eyes falling from yours to stare at the fabric of the dark slacks covering his thigh.
Pinching his chin between your fingers, you urge his gaze to meet yours yet again. “We’re building a new life together,” you continue, a hint of playfulness entering your voice. “We’re not soldiers anymore. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders. Instead, let’s focus on chasing out those rude customers from our little tea shop. And if you ever say anything self-deprecating again, well, I’ll be there to shower you with kisses until you realize just how incredible you are.”
Levi’s lips curve into a small, vulnerable smile, the barriers of self-doubt slowly crumbling away. The moisture in his eyes finally spills over, tracing glistening paths down his cheeks. “You would,” he whispers softly, his voice filled with fondness and amusement.
I am now YEARNING for virgin!Levi who is so whiny and overwhelmed by the tight, throbbing grasp of your gummy walls that he's out of his mind. He's muttering nonsense, telling you how good you feel, "Oh, you're so soft," and cursing, "Fuck, tight," and "oh oh oooh FUCK," and his fingers are scrambling against your skin. His pupils are blown wide and dark and he just can't close his mouth, his chest keeps heaving, but he just can't catch his breath. He's barely begun sliding into you for the first time and already he's GONE. Sweaty and whimpering, straining to last at the sheer overwhelming feel of your tight little hole, he cums the moment he's finally worked all the way in.
He keeps going though. He just keeps thrusting, keeps slamming his hips in to yours, filling you again and again, fighting the overstimulation. He's mindless, he doesn't want to leave you yet. It just feels so good, you feel so good, a painfully sharp pleasure that almost ache. He needs more and he needs to bring you there as well.
The first press of his lips against yours is always soft. A barely-there brush, featherlight and cautious, no matter how many times they've come in contact. Levi's breath hitches, the thicker, soft skin of his bottom lip pressing hard into the crease between yours. It's so soft, so sweet that it makes your heart ache. He sighs, nose releasing a warm huff of air against your cheek and fingers adjusting on the back of your head to tilt your mouth further into his.
It feels almost as though he's drinking you in. Relishing every bit of you as he sighs into your embrace. Your taste, your smell, your warmth and your breath. It's not like you can't say the same. Closing your eyes, his entire being fills your senses. A rich, clean and masculine smell. He's always so warm, pressing himself as close as he can.
You'd think, given his nature, that Levi would prefer to press the kiss into your mouth. Deepening the embrace with his tongue entering the wet cavern to slide against your own. More often than not, though, he prefers you to take control, to press your tongue into his mouth, tasting him. Black tea and dark spicy masculinity. The way he sighs happily makes your heart stutter in your chest. He wants as much of you as possible. Your scent filling his nose, your taste filling his mouth. He groans into your mouth, loud and needy, as you slide your tongue across his teeth, slowly lapping along the sensitive underside of his own tongue.
Contrary to his usual quiet persona, Levi's a loud kisser. You don't think he's really aware of it, moaning and humming his pleasure right into your mouth. It makes your head whirl. The plump thickness of his bottom lip is particularly sensitive, a mere scrape of your teeth against the wet and swollen flesh draws out a needy gasp. He nips you right back, he always does, fingers threading into your hair and tilting your head. It's messy. Wet. He's always particularly grabby whenever he's like this. Needy. He doesn't want to break the embrace, doesn't want your lips to leave his for even the briefest of moments.
You give boyfriend!Levi the key to your apartment and he just takes it silently. He doesn't say anything -can't, with the surge of emotion swelling in his throat- but he holds the little bit of metal between his fingers like it's the most precious thing in the world. Because you trust him
Just imagine Levi, with gentle hands and a soothing touch, carefully wetting your hair with warm water, ensuring it’s thoroughly saturated. You find yourself lounging back in the bathtub, one that Levi thoughtfully prepared for you, and he sits by your side, always eager to serve despite his gruff exterior. The steam fills the air, creating an atmosphere of relaxation and indulgence.
As Levi’s long, slender fingers work their way into your scalp, you can feel the perfect amount of pressure being applied. Each fingertip seems to possess a unique ability to relieve tension and melt away stress. His touch is a harmonious blend of soothing and invigorating, coaxing your senses into a state of tranquility. The gentle graze of his perfectly trimmed fingernails against your skin sends waves of delight through your body, evoking a pleasant shudder that courses through you, reminding you of his capable hands.
Levi’s attention to detail is impeccable. With utmost care and precision, he ensures that every strand of your hair is thoroughly lathered and cleansed. His fingers move in slow, circular motions, massaging your scalp and spreading the lather evenly, creating a truly indulgent experience. The scent of the shampoo fills the air, adding to the sensory delight.
As you close your eyes, the weight of the world seems to lift off your shoulders, and the outside world fades away. With his nails purposely dragging along your scalp, a sensation of pure bliss washes over you, causing all your muscles to become limp and lax. In that moment, all the stresses of the world melt away, leaving you with a deep sigh of relief. The tension in your body dissipates as Levi’s touch continues to work its magic.
Amidst this serenity, Levi’s voice resonates with depth, adding another layer of comfort to the experience. “You better not fall asleep again. It’s like you want me to carry you to bed,” he playfully remarks, his gentle words acting like a soothing lullaby. The melodic quality of his voice blends harmoniously with the warm water enveloping your senses, creating an otherworldly sensation of pure relaxation. The rhythmic flow of water and the soft hum of Levi’s voice combine to form a symphony that transports you to a place of complete tranquility. It feels like heaven—pure heaven.
Blinking awake, the sight of him is the first thing to greet you. Through sleep laden eyes, you drink in the inky blackness of his hair spilling across the white expanse of the pillow. His eyes are pinched tight, the little wrinkle appearing between his brows even now. You watch fondly as his eyelids twitch, his mouth drooping open to release soft puffs of air.
He's quiet even in his sleep, you think, wiggling your thigh where it's pressed between his. At your back, his fingers curl, unconsciously pulling you forward with the slightest grasp. Beneath the covers, his leg shifts up, knee bending to curl the limb further over your own. It makes your heart stutter, a breath catching high in your throat.
This is the first time he's slept over. When you'd invited him, you'd more or less figured you wouldn't actually get to see him sleep. You're well aware of his insomnia, not to mention his tendency to sleep sitting upright in his office chair. Which can't be good for his back. You were afraid that the mattress might be too soft for him, especially after years and years of hard wooden lines digging into his back.
He hasn't slept on his back since he was a child, much less on a bed. You understand, though. They must have been hard to come by growing up, not to mention the vulnerability associated with actually sleeping. It's easy to end up dead if you're caught unaware.
When you'd asked him if he wanted to sleep over, it'd been hesitant. Expecting rejection. However, Levi had just nodded his head, acquiescing like it wasn't even an issue. He'd joined you on the mattress easily. Almost as if he'd been thinking about asking himself.
You're drawn out of your thoughts by a slight hum. Levi is murmuring nonsensically, lips curling around random vowels. His head shifts, his nose nuzzling into the pillow. I guess he's not completely quiet.
Curling an arm around his back, you slide your fingers up along the notches of his spine, stopping at the wide expanse of his shoulder blade. It warms your heart that he's allowed himself this. That he trusts you enough to be completely vulnerable in your presence. It means the world to you, seeing him relaxed and heavy with deep sleep.
I wonder how long he's been asleep? Just glancing out the window, you can see that it's definitely already morning. Soft rays of sunlight filter through the glass, casting the room in an early morning light. You hope he didn't toss and turn for too long. You know he usually only gets a handful of hours a night, sometimes even skipping days. This feels different though. A deep rest.
Surprised he's a side sleeper. You sort of imagined he'd sleep flat on his back, with his arms crossed like an upset parent. Shifting your hand up, your fingers cautiously cup the soft skin of his cheek. This morning is full of surprises it seems. You'd thought he'd be up before you, possibly already gone for his morning run. You'd also thought he'd be a light sleeper, jolting awake at the slightest movement or sound.
He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering. His mouth shifts, that quiet sleepy tone of his muttering out another string of nonsense. You think you hear the word 'tea' somewhere in there. It makes you smile. Cute.
Your fingers gently skim across his features, lightly trailing up along the curve of his cheek bone and under his eye. Such pretty eyelashes. He hums, leaning into your touch, mouth dropping open further. You can feel the soft puffs of his breath dusting your face, warm and even. You think you can even spot a small bit of drool, wet and shiny beside the plumpness of his bottom lip. Adorable.
Trailing your fingers up, you cup the side of his head, reveling in the softness of his hair. Threading your fingers through the stands, it always amazes you just how thick and silky his hair is.
At the touch, his features shift, eyes pinching tight as he snorts softly. Finally, his eyes flutter open, heavy lidded and swollen from sleep. Smacking his lips, his head presses even harder into your touch. The fingers at your back tighten, the arm wrapped behind you tugging you in closer. Your name falls from his lips, his voice rough and deep from sleep, "Morning."
"Morning sleepyhead," you smile, skimming your thumb along the plump curve of his cheek.
He yawns, long and heavy, back arching in a light stretch. "Watchin' me?" The words are half formed as he nuzzles his nose back into the pillow.
"Only for a bit." His legs shift against yours, the arm at your back pulling you in. Now his chest is pressed to yours, you can feel every rise and fall. "You're really cute when you sleep."
"Mhmm," Levi protests, shifting forward to press his forehead into your collarbone. "Creepy."
"Like you wouldn't have done the same." Levi's never been so cuddly and clingy with you before. It's like he doesn't want to get up and face the day. Doesn't want to leave the comforting warmth of your embrace. You hum, threading your fingers back into his hair to pet it softly. You can feel his eyelids flutter in response, the long lashes dusting softly against your collarbone.
"Did you know you talk in your sleep?" This close, you think you can feel the soft lull of his heart beat resonating from his chest and into yours. You press your nose into the hair at the top of his head. It smells of pure soap, fresh from the shower you'd taken together shortly before bed. In fact, his hair is still somewhat cool to the touch. Not quite wet, but somewhat damp.
"What?" Levi barks, pulling his face up to meet your gaze. His eyes are suddenly alert, shining more blue than silver in the soft morning light. He pouts, "No I don't."
"Yeah," you nearly laugh at how awake he suddenly seems. The startled, unhappy down turn to his lips is so unbelievably cute. "You were muttering something about tea."
"You're lying," he insists, squinting warily. "I didn't say shit."
Smirking, you tease, "Got something you wanna keep secret?" Pinching his chin between two of your fingers, you rub your thumb along the curve of his bottom lip. "I think you drooled a little too."
His eyes crinkle, the blue shining with equal parts mirth and worry. "I get nightmares...," he starts, tongue peaking out to wet his lips. His knee nudges softly into yours, the fingers at your shoulder drum softly. "The things i've seen.. you don't need to hear any of that."
"I get nightmares too," you murmur softly, worming a free hand between your chests to press it over his heart. The beat is steady, his skin warm even in the soothing cocoon of your bedsheets. "Don't worry too much about that. You slept well last night, right?"
He mimics your gesture, pressing a palm to the middle of your chest to feel the steady beat of your heart. "Yeah.."
"It seemed deep," you note, eyes drifting from his to access his face. His cheeks seem a tad less gaunt, more plump and youthful. The tired bags beneath his eyes are still there, but they're definitely lighter, less of a dark purple. "I'm glad."
He hums softly, glancing towards the window. "It's late, we should get up."
"I wish we could just stay here all day." Given that he's still wrapped around you, he probably feels the same. He's cuddling you like a small kitten desperate for warmth.
He frowns, humming softly. The silver of his eyes shines softly. The fingers over your heart circle softly into your skin. He sounds mournful, "If only."
"It's the weekend. We could.." Morning drills are only held on weekdays. Weekends are considered 'personal time' though most scouts don't bother leaving base. Smirking, your knee surges up, pressing high between his thighs. "We technically don't have to leave bed all day."
In response to your coy gesture, Levi's eyes darken to a deep steely blue, like the sky before a devastating storm. Suddenly, he surges upward, rising to hover over you. Pressing his weight into you, fingers skim enticingly along your hip and up across your belly. "And what would we do, then? Hmm?"
You laugh.
You can't help it. Sheer mirth bubbles up in your chest, escaping helplessly in loud peeling laughter. "Hah ha ha!" You throw your head back into the pillow, "Oh my fucking god!"
"The fuck?" Levi startles, jerking back to glare at you. "The fuck are you laughing about?"
"Y-you," you fight to speak through laughter. Tears build in the corners of your vision. It's a fight to blink them away, trails leaking from the corners of your eyes. "Y-your hair!!"
Levi shakes his head in confusion, "What?"
His hair is an absolute mess. It's wavy, something you've never seen before. Normally it's pin straight. Large chunks of it are betraying his part, rising up in a gravity defying mess. One large mass along the back of his head bounces as he moves. The sight nearly sends you into hysterics.
God. It hurts. You can't remember the last time you laughed this hard. Your belly aches but you can't stop the loud chortles.
"Shut the fuck up!" Levi curses. You can't see him anymore, tears welling to blur your vision. You feel him rise, the mattress shifting as he leaves your embrace. You don't even miss the loss, wrapping your arms around your belly to fight the painful laughter.
"You- haha -your hair! It bounced!" You laugh and laugh and laugh. Your neighbors can probably hear it, given how loudly it's bouncing against the walls of your small room. "It's so messy!"
Peeling your eyes open, you spot Levi frowning into the small mirror on your dresser. He's desperately trying to fix his part and pat down the gravity defying pieces of his hair. "The fuck did you do?”
The sight only revives your laughter, sharp peels filling the air again. God it's hard to breathe, your belly hurts in such a good welcome pain. "It-," you struggle out in a joyous wheeze. Given how he usually sleeps, his hair is probably never messed up. "It's from sleeping on a mattress with wet hair!"
"Keep laughing. See if I ever stay over again." Lips curving downward in a deep pout, Levi continues to pat uselessly at his hair. You can even spot his nose wrinkling adorable in frustration. Running his fingers through the strands, some of it settles down into a somewhat correct position -still very wavy- but one large spot along the back springs right back up.
Wheezing, you struggle to regain your composure, if only a little bit. Sitting up, you note that the wayward tuft looks like a single, fluffy cat ear, the fur stark black to match the inkiness of his hair. He shakes his head again, and it wobbles, causing your chest to seize with another round of riotous laughter -this time strained in a poor attempt to be quiet.
You can't help the slight giggle in your voice when you speak, "Sit here," you pat the mattress by your side, "and bring my comb in the dresser there. I'll fix it."
“Can’t believe you asked for this,” Levi mutters quietly. Despite his dry tone, there's a darkness simmering in his gaze, a twisted heat that fills your stomach with excitement.
Cupping your cheek, his thumb glides along your bottom lip, pulling it down to skim the wetness along the inner skin. “Please, like you don’t enjoy seeing me on my knees,” you breathe back, your breath hitching uncontrollably as his well-trimmed nail grazes your kiss-swollen skin.
In response, you receive a grunt. His gaze moves away from your mouth, traveling up your form—from your bent knees on the floor to the enticing cleavage spilling out from your open blouse. Meeting your eyes once again, he smirks and replies, “Maybe?”
“Maybe?” your eyebrows raise in mock disbelief. Sliding a hand up his firm thigh, you feel the muscles tense and shudder beneath his slacks. Your hand finds the hardened outline of his cock, and you teasingly squeeze it, relishing the way his hips suddenly lurch into your touch. “I think you do. Plus, we’ve done weirder stuff. Remember the Clone A Willy-”
Levi cuts you off, grumbling, “Are you ever going to stop talking about that?”
Smirking, you softly lap at his thumb, tracing the rounded curve of his manicured nail bed. Taking hold of his free wrist, the one not holding your face, you press gently until his hand relaxes open and he presses the tip of one finger to your lips. “Why don’t you make me?”
Levi frowns, his breath heavy and audible. He gently takes you by the jaw and slides one long finger into your mouth, reminiscent of the sensation of his fingers being inside you. Your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut as a moan rises from your throat, arching your back to seek closer contact.
“Oh,” he sighs your name, sounding wrecked as if he’s the one on his knees. His mouth hangs open, filled with indescribable awe.
Even though it’s just his pointer finger, it feels thicker and heavier against your tongue. Your eyes flutter closed, and you moan, bobbing your head. Levi remains still, lightly pressing the pad of his finger against your eager tongue with every suck. “More,” you hungrily moan around the digit, “give me one more.”
“J-just let me know if it’s too much,” Levi stutters, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His middle finger joins the first, and you eagerly suck at the digits, relishing the salty taste of his skin with a hint of underlying sweetness. Beneath it all, there’s a deep, masculine essence that coats the back of your tongue, making you want to take him deeper.
With caution, he starts thrusting the digits into your throat. You moan, swallowing around them. One particularly deep thrust makes you gag, and Levi immediately withdraws.
You whimper at the loss, your hand quickly guiding his fingers back to your lips. “But,” he breathes unevenly, his gaze scorching and his cheeks flushed.
“I want to choke, remember?” you remind him, kissing his soaked fingertips. The bulge along his thigh is now visibly solid, jerking beneath the fabric of his pants. You cup it, and now it’s his turn for his breath to hitch. “And then maybe I’ll choke on this next.”
