Velvet Heat (No Regrets!Levi x Reader Oneshot)
Before Levi Ackerman ever wore a uniform, he was the Underground’s most dangerous man—untouchable, cold, and utterly lethal. But one night at a lounge, a bold little dancer climbs into his lap with a smirk that dares him to lose control. And Levi? He takes the challenge personally.
He doesn’t go easy. And you don’t want him to.
18 + Only | Minors Do Not Interact
The air in the lounge was thick with smoke, sweat, perfume, and whispered sins.
A low hum of conversation murmured beneath the seductive melody of piano and strings, the notes floating like silk through the haze. Candlelight flickered along polished brass railings and red velvet drapes, casting golden shadows across the faces of criminals, smugglers, and nobility who liked to pretend they weren’t slumming in the filth of the underground. But even here—in a city without sunlight—there were stars.
One star, in particular.
Levi Ackerman leaned back in the worn leather booth in the farthest corner, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. His posture was deceptively relaxed, but those who knew him understood the truth: he was always ready to kill.
The infamous Levi. The underground's deadliest blade.
People whispered his name with fear, respect, and jealousy. A man who slit throats like it was second nature. A ghost with knives for hands and no soul to speak of. And tonight, he was here for one reason:
To see you.
“Oi, is this really worth the trip?” he muttered to Furlan without turning his head. “She better not be just another girl in fishnets pretending to be a dancer.”
Furlan chuckled softly. “She’s not just a girl. She’s a fucking legend down here.”
“Tch.” Levi’s sharp grey eyes flicked to the stage as the house lights dimmed. “We'll see about that.”
And then… She stepped out.
You.
Wrapped in crimson sheer silk that shimmered with every sway of your hips. The lingerie dress clung to your curves like it had been painted on, exposing your legs, waist, and just enough cleavage to tempt death itself. Thin straps slid off your shoulders like you didn’t care who watched.
The entire room silenced.
Your hair spilled down your back, and your face—gods, your face—looked like it had been sculpted by an artist with a love for sin. Lips painted scarlet. Eyes laced with mischief. A smile with dimples so deep it made hardened criminals shift in their seats.
But Levi didn’t shift. He stared. Unblinking.
The music started—slow, sensual. You danced, your body twirling through the stage like a blade of light. Effortless. High. Ethereal.
Levi’s jaw clenched.
You didn’t look at him right away.
You twirled. Danced. Let your body become the music. Graceful, fluid, seductive. Like a fairy dipped in wine and wicked thoughts. Every man in the room leaned forward like moths drawn to flame.
Then your eyes locked with his.
You didn’t smile.
You smirked.
And Levi, that deadly bastard, raised a brow. Just one. Like a challenge.
You accepted.
Your bare feet padded silently across the stage and down the short set of velvet-covered stairs. Each sway of your hips more deliberate now. Every movement calculated. A predator in sheer red lace. You crossed the room slowly, a siren weaving her spell.
Levi didn’t look away.
He never did.
When you reached his table, you climbed onto it—graceful as a cat—and straddled his lap with your thighs spread wide over his, ignoring the stunned gasps and growls of envy from the crowd.
Furlan nearly dropped his drink.
Levi didn’t move.
You leaned in close, your voice a soft, wicked purr near his ear.
“You look bored.”
His eyes narrowed just slightly. “You’re bold.”
“And you’re beautiful,” you whispered, dragging a fingertip down the bridge of his nose. “I don’t usually do this. But I think I’ll make an exception.”
You kissed his cheek slowly, deliberately, your red lips smearing against the sharp angle of his face.
A perfect lipstick mark.
He caught your wrist just as you started to pull away. His grip was strong—but not cruel.
“I don’t like games,” he said flatly.
You smirked, twisting your wrist free with a dancer’s finesse. “Then follow me. Let me show you how I play.”
You gently grabbed his hand and lead him towards the back on the lounge. The private room was lit only by a chandelier of dying candles. Crimson velvet lined the walls and chaise lounge. A soft fur rug lay beneath your feet. You locked the door with a click.
Levi stood just inside, silent.
You didn’t speak.
You just danced.
Slow. Sinful. Seduction distilled. Your hips rolled, your bare feet gliding over the rug. The sheer silk flowed around you like mist. Your hands slid over your own curves, drawing his attention to your waist, your thighs, your breasts—everything men dreamed about and never touched.
He watched. Breathing steady. Face unreadable.
But you saw it in his eyes. Hunger.
You turned your back to him, letting the red silk slip down your arms. You looked over your shoulder, lips parted, breath shallow.
“Touch me,” you whispered.
He was on you in an instant.
Levi’s mouth crushed yours, his kiss rough and greedy. You answered with a moan, throwing your arms around his neck. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into flesh. You kissed him deeper—tongue, teeth, passion. You sucked on his bottom lip, then licked the corner of his mouth just to tease him.
He growled.
You laughed breathlessly and pushed him toward the chaise. He let you.
You climbed into his lap again, kissing down his throat, nibbling just beneath his jaw. His pulse jumped under your tongue.
“You gonna kill me?” you teased, voice soft as silk.
“Not tonight,” he muttered, dragging his lips along your collarbone. “Not unless you ask real nice.”
You rolled your hips over his, slow and deliberate. You felt him—hard beneath you, the tension in his muscles coiled tight.
“I’m sure you’ve killed for less,” you whispered.
He gripped your ass with both hands, pulling you tighter against him. “Don’t tempt me.”
But you did.
Every sway. Every sigh. Every flicker of your eyes as you stripped for him, peeling away the last sheer layer of your lingerie, baring your flawless skin beneath flickering candlelight.
You were a goddess made flesh.
And he worshipped you in silence—with his hands, his mouth, his body pressed against yours like he was starved.
You kissed again—slow this time. Tender. Deep.
You guided him down onto the chaise, your body hovering over his. Hair cascading around your face, your dimples deepening as you smiled down at him with a sultry glint in your eye.
You had him.
Levi’s cold, calculating gaze never left yours, even as you straddled him like you owned him—like you’d always meant to. His body was deceptively still beneath yours, but you could feel the tension in him. Like a beast barely leashed. Like something wild that hadn’t decided yet if it wanted to devour you or let you keep teasing.
He stared you down, a predator in human form.
And you… you stared right back.
Your smirk was slow, sultry, teasing.
Daring.
Your hands moved with purpose, curling around the delicate straps of your sheer red lingerie and sliding them off your shoulders, letting the fabric drift down, inch by inch. His gaze didn’t waver—yet. He was trying to prove something. Maybe to you. Maybe to himself.
But then—
The silk slipped low enough to reveal your breasts, and that was when he broke.
His eyes flickered downward.
Just for a heartbeat.
Just long enough for you to feel the victory pulse like electricity through your veins.
You didn’t say a word. You reached for his hands, rough and calloused from years of violence, and guided them to your chest. You pressed them to your bare skin, slowly… deliberately.
He didn’t resist.
Didn’t even blink.
His fingers curled, squeezing your breasts with slow, deliberate pressure, thumbs brushing over your nipples like he was testing the texture. His jaw tensed, nostrils flared. Still quiet. Still unreadable.
But his hands stayed.
You began to move again—hips rolling, body winding. A private dance made just for him. You moved with purpose, grinding slowly, sensually, until you could feel it—him. The hard, growing bulge beneath you.
You felt him twitch through his pants, and your hips rocked harder, more confidently, feeding the heat between you. The air was thick with your breath, the scent of candle wax, and the sharp buzz of Levi’s restraint fraying at the edges.
Then, without warning, you leaned forward and kissed him.
He didn’t pull away.
His lips were dry but warm. Soft but firm. You moaned against him, deepening the kiss. His hand slid from your breast to your lower back, gripping you tighter, anchoring you against him as he kissed you back—slow, hungry, like he had been holding back for too long.
And then, in a blink—he moved.
His grip on your waist tightened, and before you could react, he shifted his weight and flipped you beneath him in one smooth motion. You let out a small gasp as your back hit the velvet chaise, his body now hovering above yours, knees planted on either side of your hips.
His hands pinned your wrists above your head, his body pressed flush to yours, hard and unrelenting.
He was fast.
Strong.
Dangerous.
And yet… he wasn’t hurting you.
His face hovered inches from yours, eyes dark and stormy, studying you like you were something fragile—something rare.
“You think you’re in control?” His voice was low, rasping, a growl dragged over gravel.
You didn’t flinch.
You didn’t look away.
Instead, you tilted your head, smirking again, breath hot against his lips. “Aren’t I?”
Something flickered in his eyes. Lust. Annoyance. Admiration.
“You’re bold,” he muttered, voice thick. “Too bold.”
“And you’re hard,” you whispered, shifting your hips beneath him just enough to remind him exactly where your body met his.
His jaw clenched again. His hands slid down from your wrists, dragging slowly over your arms, until they settled at your sides. His fingertips dug into your hips like he was trying to decide if he wanted to leave bruises.
He leaned closer. His lips brushed the shell of your ear.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
You shivered, heart racing.
“I know exactly what I’m asking for,” you whispered.
He exhaled slowly, his breath hot on your neck, and you felt the smallest shudder run through him.
“I don’t go easy.”
“I don’t want easy.”
Levi pulled back just enough to look at you again. His hair hung slightly in his face, the dim candlelight catching on the sharp angles of his jaw. His eyes were dangerous—full of promises you weren’t sure you were ready for, but completely unwilling to turn down.
One hand rose to cup your cheek, thumb brushing just under your bottom lip.
“You’re gonna regret this,” he said quietly.
You nipped at his thumb with your teeth and grinned.
“Then make it worth it.”
His mouth was on yours before the last word left your lips—devouring, dominating, taking. You moaned into the kiss, your hands fisting in the back of his shirt as your legs wrapped around his waist.
He pressed his hips into yours, grinding slowly, deliberately, making you feel every inch of his arousal through the thin fabric between you. You gasped, arching into him, your fingers clawing at his back.
He broke the kiss with a low curse, staring down at you again like he was about to commit a crime.
And in that moment, you were more than willing to be his next sin..
You were flushed, lips parted, body trembling beneath his weight. You couldn’t move, not with the way he pinned you down with nothing but his presence, his hands, his voice.
And then—
He moved lower.
His hand slipped between your thighs.
You gasped, hips twitching, but Levi didn’t let up. He used two fingers to push aside your lingerie underwear—slowly, carefully, like he was unwrapping a gift. His touch was rough, calloused, but his movements were maddeningly gentle, teasing your folds with deliberate strokes.
“Shit…” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re soaking through already.”
You whimpered. “Levi—”
He slipped one finger between your slick folds and dragged it through your heat, smearing it across your clit with a slow, lazy circle. You bucked beneath him, but he pressed his forearm against your hips, holding you still.
“You wanted this, remember?” he said, tone dark and smooth. “Climbed into my lap like a little slut... dressed like that... teasing me in front of a whole damn room.”
You gasped at the vulgarity of it—but gods, you liked it. Too much.
“I bet you thought I’d be rough right away. Thought I’d rip your panties off and fuck you into the chaise.” His voice dropped lower, lips brushing your ear. “But that’s not how this works.”
And then he slid one finger inside you.
Your back arched as the sensation bloomed white-hot. He watched you, expression unreadable except for the way his eyes darkened, flicking down to watch your body take him in.
“You’re tight,” he growled, slipping in another finger beside the first. “Hot. Fuck.”
He curled them inside you, rubbing against the spot that made your thighs tremble. Your legs tried to close, but he shoved them open with his knee, never once looking away.
“Keep ‘em open,” he ordered, voice like gravel and smoke. “Don’t make me tie you down.”
Your walls clenched around his fingers, and his smirk grew wicked.
“Yeah, I felt that.”
He started moving his fingers—slow at first, then faster, deeper. You cried out, breath catching, body bucking under the force of each thrust. He added pressure with his thumb against your clit, circling it in time with his pumping fingers.
You were unraveling.
Your hand flew to the cushion behind you, the other gripping his shoulder as you moaned his name, loud and broken. He leaned down, lips brushing your neck, whispering filth in your ear.
“You love this, don’t you? Me inside you like this... fingers deep, pussy gripping me like it’s desperate.” He chuckled darkly. “You’re gonna cum already? That easy?”
You were so close. So fucking close.
And then—
He stopped.
You let out a broken cry, hips chasing his fingers. “No—! Why did you stop—?”
“Because I can.” His tone was low and cruel, but his eyes sparkled with lust. “I told you—I don’t go easy.”
Before you could protest, he moved down between your thighs, dragging your underwear fully off with his teeth. He tossed it somewhere behind him and stared at your dripping core like it was the most decadent thing he’d ever seen.
“You’re a fucking mess,” he muttered. “Look at this—fuck.”
His breath ghosted over your heat, and then—his tongue was on you. Lapping. Sucking. Devouring. You cried out, thighs trying to close around his head, but his hands held you wide open as he feasted on you like he was starving.
You were shaking. Writhing.
His mouth was relentless. Every flick of his tongue pushed you higher. His teeth grazed your clit just enough to make your vision blur. Then, without warning, he slid his fingers back inside, curling them with precision while his tongue circled your clit.
You screamed.
“That’s it,” he murmured into you. “Make those pretty sounds. Let the whole fucking Lounge know who’s got you like this.”
You were right at the edge. Your walls clenched, legs trembling. The orgasm crept up your spine, white-hot, merciless.
But just as you were about to fall—
He stopped. Again.
“No—Levi! Please!”
He sat up slowly, licking your arousal off his fingers with maddening calm. “Goddamn, you taste good.”
You were panting, tears stinging your eyes from the sheer denial.
“You’re cruel,” you whispered.
“Yeah?” He leaned over you, dragging the head of his cock along your folds through his pants, just enough pressure to make you shudder.
“Then beg for it.”
You blinked up at him, breath hitching.
“Beg for what?”
“Everything,” he growled, gripping your jaw with one hand. “Beg me to ruin you.”
Your body was shaking. Slick with sweat and arousal, skin flushed, lips swollen from his kisses and your own bitten-back screams. The chaise lounge beneath you was damp with your arousal—your thighs soaked, your core pulsing and aching from the relentless teasing.
Levi leaned over you again, his voice low and cruel in your ear.
“Dripping all over the fucking chaise,” he muttered, running his fingers along the mess you were leaving. “You’re gonna clean that, brat?”
You whimpered, nearly sobbing. “Please—please, Levi, I can’t—”
“You can.” He grabbed your chin and tilted your face up to meet his. “You’re gonna take everything I give you.”
He pulled back and stood for a moment. You thought—hoped—he might finally give you what you needed.
Instead, he chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “You're so desperate. That little act back on the floor—straddling me like a bitch in heat—this is what you wanted, right?”
You were too dazed to answer, but your body betrayed you, arching and trembling in need. That smirk on his lips deepened as he ran a hand down your spine.
“Get on your knees,” he ordered.
You obeyed—barely—your legs wobbling as you turned and braced yourself on all fours atop the chaise. He spread your knees wider with a rough hand, his other gripping your hip like a vice.
He gave you no warning. No softness.
Just a rough, deep thrust that stole the breath from your lungs.
“Fuck!” you gasped, crying out as he filled you all at once.
“Quiet,” he growled, leaning over your back, teeth grazing your shoulder. “You don’t get to scream unless I say you can.”
He pulled back and slammed into you again—harder. Your eyes rolled back.
“I should’ve fucked you on that stage in front of everyone,” he hissed, pistoning his hips. “Let them all see what kind of filthy little thing you are.”
You were crying, moaning, unable to stop the way your hips rocked back to meet his every thrust.
But when you squirmed too much, trying to wriggle out of the overwhelming pressure and pleasure, he snarled.
“Can’t even stay still.”
In one brutal motion, he yanked his belt from his pants and grabbed your wrists. Before you could process it, he’d looped the leather around them and tied you up—wrists bound behind your back like a plaything.
“Nowhere to run now, yeah?” he breathed against your ear.
He gripped the end of the belt for leverage—and used it.
He fucked you.
Hard. Unrelenting. Brutal.
The slapping sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the room, mingling with your choked sobs of pleasure and his ragged breathing.
Your body rocked forward with every thrust, your tits bouncing, your knees struggling to hold you up. Your cheek pressed against the velvet cushion, lips open in a silent scream as he pounded into you from behind.
“You feel that?” Levi groaned, snapping his hips forward. “This is what happens when you act like a fucking tease.”
You could barely speak—barely think—but you nodded, whimpering, “Yes—yes, Levi, please—don’t stop—”
He tugged the belt tighter, slamming into you harder, deeper, like he wanted to mold your insides to the shape of his cock.
“Fucking dripping,” he grunted. “I can feel you squeezing me. So fuckin’ tight.”
You were gone. Slurred moans fell from your lips, tears slipping down your face as your body shook violently.
“You like being used like this, huh?” he sneered. “Tied up. Fucked dumb. Just a needy little hole for me to ruin.”
You nodded furiously, mouth open, drooling onto the cushion. “Yes, Levi—please, I need it—I need you—”
He bent over your back, still thrusting, now grinding deeper. “You’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you? Just from getting fucked like this?”
You clenched around him, crying out, the pressure in your belly snapping like a rubber band stretched too tight.
Your orgasm hit you like a wave—violent, overwhelming, shaking. Your vision whited out as your whole body spasmed beneath him, held together only by the grip of the belt and Levi’s hands on your hips.
“Fucking hell—” Levi groaned, voice cracked and low, “—that’s it, cum for me—fuck—”
He didn’t stop.
He kept going—faster, rougher, chasing his own release as your body twitched and convulsed from the overstimulation.
The only thing you could do was moan brokenly as he used you, mouth wide open and drooling, eyes glassy.
Then you felt him—his hips jerking, the rhythm breaking—and with a harsh groan in your ear, Levi slammed into you one final time and spilled deep inside you.
His grip stayed locked tight, fingers bruising your hips as he rode out his high, chest heaving against your back.
For a long moment, the only sound was your combined breath and the occasional, accidental twitch of your trembling legs.
Finally, he leaned over and kissed your shoulder. The belt slipped loose from your wrists, and his hand found your cheek, thumb wiping your tears.
“Did I break you?” he murmured, voice rough, but… gentle.
You let out a hoarse, satisfied sigh.
“I hope so.”
He chuckled low, biting softly at your shoulder. “Good.”
Your body felt like jelly. Used, full, and entirely boneless—folded into the chaise like you’d melted there.
The room was silent now. The glow of the candles had dimmed, flickering low, their golden light casting soft shadows over Levi’s face. His eyes weren’t sharp anymore. They were softer now. Still intense, but unreadable in a different way—like he was searching for something on your face that he wasn’t brave enough to ask for aloud.
You blinked at him, tears dried on your cheeks, lips swollen, pulse still fluttering in your wrists.
He finally moved.
Without a word, Levi pulled out of you carefully, steady hands on your hips to guide you down. You whimpered at the sensitivity, but he hushed you instantly with a thumb brushing along your thigh.
“Easy,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
He untied the belt from around your wrists, letting it fall to the floor. Your arms ached with relief, and before you could slump forward, he caught you—pulling you gently into his lap.
You were a mess—legs trembling, body soaked with sweat, smeared lipstick, and still full of him. But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t push you away.
Instead, he wrapped an arm around your back and pulled a throw blanket from the chaise, draping it over your shoulders. Then he held you—silent, solid, grounding.
You pressed your forehead to his chest, dazed and buzzing.
“I-I can’t feel my legs,” you mumbled, half-laughing, half-crying.
“Tch.” His voice was gruff, but his hand rubbed your back in soothing circles. “I told you I don’t go easy.”
You giggled weakly, nuzzling closer. “You’re a menace…”
Levi tilted your chin up, thumb brushing your cheek. “You good?”
His voice was quieter now. Rough, yes—but laced with something gentle. Something careful.
You nodded, eyes glassy. “Yeah. Just… floating.”
He stared at you for a beat. Then he shifted, slipping a hand between your thighs and gently brushing over your core.
You flinched.
“I know,” he murmured. “Too much. Sorry.”
He wiped you with the edge of the blanket—slow and gentle, surprisingly so. You watched him in a daze, heart swelling at the contrast. The same hands that had just wrecked you now handled you like you were porcelain.
Once he was satisfied, he pulled your legs across his lap and reclined back against the chaise, cradling you to his chest. One hand stroked your back, the other ran through your hair—slow, grounding motions.
“You didn’t have to be so gentle,” you whispered.
“You didn’t have to look at me like that,” he replied, voice low.
You blinked. “Like what?”
“Like I’m worth a damn.”
The silence that followed was thick—but not uncomfortable.
You nestled closer, resting your cheek against his collarbone.
“You are,” you whispered. “Even if you don’t think so.”
Levi didn’t answer. But his arms tightened around you just a little.
And that was enough.
~
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