#short like levi ackerman

[trafalgarlogy]

☰ S/O GETS PREGNANT WITH TWINS

ft. Sae Itoshi

CUSTOMER . @kiannas-stuff TW. cringy, lets consider reader and sae are married in this post, sae is in his 20s in this post cause it wouldn't make sense for 18 year old to be a father, short like levi's height, fem!reader

・Hearing the news of you being pregnant with twins will make Sae really happy, as in his reaction he would hug you so tightly with the brightest a smile which you wouldn't have probably seen in your entire life.

・He would hold a huge party LIKE HUGE, where all the celebrities would be invited including those who you would have ever dreamed to meet.

・His love for you would double, his stickin' around ya no matter what!

・You would be showered with a lot of gifts that even all of them don't fit inside your house-, and more of a probability that your kids will be born with a silver spoon now.

・the man already made plans for their future, he can't get a break of it.

・he would mostly tell you to rest and yes its not a advice, it's a command.

・to take care of you, he would cancel his matches overseas no matter how much important they are.

・you would be the ONLY person to see his caring side, aside from rin ofc.

・you would probably notice of how happy he is while he is talking about his kids.

・he would cook meals ofc, but sad thing they are all veggies and you can't say no, cause he would then force you to, he acts like a strict parent at these moments so yeah-

・well when the twins are born, expect them and you being spoiled rotten

THANK YOU FOR READING!

[pinkdivinite]

anyway implying a man being short decreases his manliness is not only wrong but also icky fyi

[jjkeremika]

Goofy (pt3)

levi ackerman x reader (fem!reader), levi x you

description: your friends embarrassed levi. he wants to embarrass you

inspiration (anonymous;requested): “captain levi making goofy reader get off on his new boot as punishment for fucking something up under his watch. especially because he heard their little jokes and he wants her to be embarrassed”)

(Goofy (pt1): you think levi’s too serious. he thinks you’re too goofy; Goofy (pt2): levi fucks some sense in you)

warning/disclaimer: armin/sasha/you/ymir/historia friend group; lewd language; masturbation; object grinding; shaming/derogatory; edging; punishment; light hair tug; power dynamic; NSFW/MDNI

“we’re all ready for the mission, right? you guys know the plan?” armin asked while stacking a wooden box into the wagon, hoisting it from historia’s and ymir’s dual grip.

“well, we’re not done stacking yet, so,” sasha added, dangling and kicking her feet off the edge of the wagon, “doesn’t sound that ready to me,” she sang, eying armin playfully.

“some of us aren’t helping,” ymir muttered, lightly kicking sasha’s side.

armin sighed, paired with a deep breath and an arm stretch, “i meant the strategy.”

sasha slapped ymir’s leg. ymir hopped away from the cart. “not all help is manual labor. entertainment and company are so important these days,” she said knowingly, leaning back onto her palms.

you and ymir made eye contact and chuckled. “oh. maybe you should stop helping then,” ymir added as she picked up another box from the ground. sasha reached to smack armin’s leg as he snorted and laughed.

“i still can’t believe we’re on levi’s squad this time,” historia squealed in hushed excitement, glancing around to make sure the captain wasn’t around. “all of us!”

her squeal cut through yours, sasha’s, and ymir’s laughter, drawing all of your attention. ymir carried the box and handed it off to armin. you pulled out the ropes and clips from a separate stack of crates.

“do you think that’s related to—” armin blurted out, his cheeks immediately pinking up as he glanced at you. he stopped himself as ymir put the box down and leaned onto it as she laughed.

“armin, too soon!” historia gasped, trying to hold her composure but her pink cheeks gave her away. “her throats still sore.”

nobody said anything, everyone looking at the ground with suppressed smiles and shifting bodies.

“related to our amazing skills?” sasha finished his question, pulled an apple out of her pocket. “obviously.”

“who knew you had such a dirty mind, tori,” ymir said, clicking her tongue, shaking her head, “nobody else went there.”

you laughed, winced from the healing tears in the tissue. “way to doubt our skills and make us feel bad,” sasha added, taking a bite.

“i, uh, i thought armin was referring to—” she stammered, glancing around at all of her friends suppressing a smile into a frown.

“wow. now she’s blaming armin,” sasha sighed, exaggerating her tone.

ymir rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “he can’t even say clitoris, tori.”

historia looked to you and you shook your head, flattened your lips into a straight line.

“i can’t believe you just said that. way to bring up literal throat fucking while we’re working,” ymir said it with a straight face and shook her head and licked her lips, returned to picking up the box and moving towards the carriage.

“maybe you should stop helping,” sasha mused, punctuating her suggestion with another bite of her apple and a loud munch.

historia chortled and turned around, helping you untangle the ropes.

“i was only going to say his new boots,” armin said quietly. “i think hes proud of them. eren told me the heel leaves a mark for days.”

sasha and ymir immediately looked to you then burst into laughter. sasha gasped excitedly. you laughed despite your sore throat, dropping the rope, wheezing more than anything else.

“that’s sexy,” ymir and sasha shouted in unison and pointed at each other, laughing loudly. historia covered her mouth to quiet herself.

“oo, lucky eren,” you added.

“well,” historia chirped with a wide grin, bordering a more amused smirk, “three inches can be a lot for some people.”

sasha grabbed her stomach with laughter, ymir hit the crate. even armin was laughing harder than you’ve seen before, light pink cheeks like he might be starting to get it, catching on.

“i meeeaaaannn,” sasha elongated, raising her palms, bending her elbows, and shrugging, completely oblivious to the apple juice sliding down her wrist. “we know he likes to wear the boots.”

his voice cut through the open air, even echoed enough for nearby birds to fly away. his volume traveled faster than he walked, sauntering like none of you were ever worth his time. “hey!” the five of you turned to sight of him approaching, still a good distance away. “shut the fuck up!”

ymir, sasha, and you all looked between each other with suppressed smiles and suggestive eyes before breaking into another fit of laughter, the tension and adrenaline increasing your heart rate.

���hurry up and knock it off!” he demanded, his tone cutting through the laughter, the tension dissipating into dangerous territory.

the four of them silently went back to work, and you dared to look at levi with an amused smile, smirked and bit your lip when you noticed the pink sheen highlighting his cheeks, the flaring of his nostrils, the heaving of his chest as he glared at you with a curled lip and clenched fists.

there were tiny bits of quiet, suppressed laughter and amusing eye contact while the rest of the crates were stacked.

armin spoke first, so softly and unsurely, while the five of you tied and chained the crates to the carriage. “do you think if we speak again…” he pointed to his throat, suppressed his smile into a poorly-hidden straight face, dared to look at you while he said it. “he’s gonna do that to us?”

sasha’s hand clapped over her mouth as she laughed.

“aw,” ymir said between repressed chuckles. she walked over to armin, patted his back. “baby made his first funny joke.” he didn’t totally understand the joke, but everyone laughed when he said it the first time.

“no,” sasha eyed you when she followed, not even hiding the bemused smirk anymore, successfully controlling her volume, “we never said ‘aye aye, captain.’”

ymir snickered, put her arm around you. “yeah,” she continued casually, sighing in fake sorrow, “we’re just not goofy enough.”

*************

the five of you were relaxing at the cafeteria, exhausted from the manual labor, for once on the quieter side (still littered with a few jokes about how it was good for you to be on vocal rest), when the doors to the room slammed against the walls.

you felt the force of the air from across the room. all eyes turned to the smaller figure in the doorway, but captain levi was looking for one group in particular.

he stormed over almost immediately, knowing what table your friends sat at by heart, and the heat radiating off of him was enough to raise the temperature in the room, enough to make the room’s blood boil.

“which one of you fucked up?” his voice was level, but if you chipped away you could hear the frustration and anger and restraint. “which one of you tied the back?”

“um, a ‘hello’ wou—“ ymir started while you agreed simultaneously, “yeah, serio—“

“i don’t have time for your fucking jokes today.” he leaned his palms against the table, glared at each of you like you were nothing but sacks of meat. you both fell silent. “your carriage fell apart. your cargo was loose. your cargo fucking fell out before the team even reached the wall!”

he pointed at each of you while he spoke. “best part?” his eyes were flaring, setting fire to anyone who dared to make eye contact. “into the fucking river.”

armin and historia sat with their heads down, ymir rolled her eyes but bit her tongue. sasha was starting to feel the pressure of what they’d done.

“two months of supplies in the river.” he was seething, it was seeping into his eerily calm tone. “back right. who secured it?”

everyone tried to subtly look to you, keeping their hands clasped in their laps, but levi was impeccable at reading body language.

he glared at you, a scoff mixed with distaste and expectation. “captain goofy, huh?” he crossed his arms and you pretended not to notice the folding of his sleeve, exposing the muscle underneath. “of course it was fucking you.”

worst part?

it was actually you this time.

“you.” he pointed at you. you dug your fingernails into your thigh to avoid visible shaking. “you’re coming with me.”

he spat out the words, snarling like he might bite. you thought about him pulling your hair again.

“considering you’ll probably kill me if i don’t…” you mumbled, standing up rolling your eyes despite the jolt down your spine, your brain sending orders that your body helplessly obeys.

levi was already stomping away, the heels of his pristine boots smacking against the wooden floor, his cool rage quacking the earth.

historia whispered before you walked away. “he’ll kill you if you do.”

“yeah, honestly, nice knowing you,” ymir added, waving her hand like a careless farewell.

as you neared the door, levi having stopped to ensure you were following, you heard sasha not-so-quietly whisper, “he’s gonna kick her with the three inches.”

“eren’s quaking,” ymir immediately responded, cackling. armin hid his face behind his palms, historia stifled a laugh, and you failed to suppress a smug smile.

the captain ignored you, storming off noticeably faster and harder. you rubbed your throat and swallowed the building saliva to cool the itch as you followed the captain into his office.

levi sat in the office chair. “close the door behind you,” he ordered sternly. you carelessly pushed the door, a tiny part of you hoping the door didn’t actually close, that the lock didn’t click. for the bit.

you moved to sit down when he commanded, “stand,” with the soft click of the door. you kept your eyes on levi, who was taking controlled breaths.

he stared at you, more anger than anything else. he said nothing for minutes, scrutinized you with clasped hands and narrowed eyes, drawn brows and a disappointed scowl.

your heart was racing, you could feel the pulse in your wrists, in your neck, running up and down your thighs. the adrenaline of being reprimanded, the same relentless feeling as yesterday, the same rage and sexual frustration in his eyes.

the tension was unbearable, almost suffocating, settling heavily on your bones. you scanned his face amidst constant eye contact, looking for the slightest tell, the tiniest curve of his lip and vein in his neck.

you took in the sight of the captain in his office chair, his clutter-free desk neatly stacked with numerous papers, multiple different pens for different purposes.

levi stayed silent. your mind started to wander, thought of what your friends would say. it was actually hard to read his body language. you could picture her face and sasha’s laughter when she said it. why? because it’s so small?

you breathily laughed, the smile taking over your face, before you returned to looking at levi’s visibly frustrated expression and bit your bottom lip.

he locked his jaw. maybe you’d get to lick it today. “where do you think you stand in the corp?” his calm tone was misleading, laced with insidious undertones desperate to reach out and touch you.

you exhaled breathily, pointing to the floor. “uh, right here?”

his lip curled and he blinked twice before standing up and pointing in front of him. “here.” you hesitated, debated what to say. “im your captain. you do as i say.”

your legs started moving before your jaw could, quietly sauntering over. you were stood in front of him, looking down slightly. his stare was still hard, still debating with himself. you thought of kissing him this time.

“on your knees,” he ordered, his expression not faltering but his pupils widened, different from yesterday. “on the boot.”

his lip curled in response to your questioning face, but you complied anyway, your sore knees reminiscing on the last time.

you looked up at him with wide, dark eyes, taking in the sight of him towering over with all the light in the room. “hop.”

“what?”

“bounce. hop. move,” he repeated coldly. “do not fucking disobey me today.” he held up the top sheet of paper, the report of all the supplies lost, the request for replacements for a team with waning support.

you felt the blood rush through your body, heard it pounding in your ears, felt it appearing on your cheeks and settling in your crotch. the fluster in your gut was amplified by the explicit knowledge that you’ve fucked up. you’ve embarrassed the squad. you’ve embarrassed him.

his hand wrapping in your recovering hair brought you back to reality, where you were frozen, the rumble in your chest fighting for the air space in your lungs. “now.”

you rocked your hips instead, followed the friction against your clothed clit and repeated the cycle. you maintained eye contact with levi. “aye, aye, captain.”

you swore you saw his mouth flicker, his eyes gleam with a brighter light. he watched you carefully, scanning over your eyes and your mischievous smile and your hips rocking against the nice shiny boot.

the grip in your hair tightened as your hips sped up. the heat on your cheeks stayed despite the blood centered in your lower abdomen, despite the fire in your pelvis.

“keep going, baby,” he almost purred, turning his head away from the sight of you grinding down in the boots you were so obsessed with to the fucked up situation you warned them about.

“wh-what are you doing?” you rasped, awkwardly already a little breathless from the simple friction. you were peering over the desk, trying to see what was taking his attention off you.

he scoffed with a tiny smirk, shook his head lightly, “fixing your mistake.” he signed a page with one hand, flipped it with the same, kept the other held firmly on your scalp, in your hair.

you felt the heat rush to your cheeks, felt the unsettling turmoil in your abdomen, as the embarrassment flushed over, swirled with the sparks up your spine.

“don’t slow down,” levi added with a long stare, watching as you immediately obeyed, the liquid near your crotch starting to show on the thinner fabric of your thighs.

your hands wrapped around his calves, your eyelids closed. you leaned into the feeling, let the overwhelming heat add to the burning need to continue.

each time he turned back to the paper you started softly moaning a little more, moved your hips a little faster and more centered, rocked against his ankle.

“you gonna tell your friends about this?” he huffed, his cheeks bright pink. he watched your cheeks redden as your brain slowly processed what he said. “how fucking desperate you are that you’ll rub yourself on my fucking boot? how you love my three inch heel?”

he laughed. “do you think they’re listening now? that they already fucking know? outside the fucking door watching and listening to you grind my new shiny riding boots?”

you continued, his words sending shivers along your nerves. “i’ve heard the way you speak of me. i’ve heard the fucking jokes you make.” he chortled, shook his head, but your eyes were closed. “what do you think your friends are talking about now? what fucking jokes do you think they’re making now?”

you were quiet, too focused on the unbelievable sensation building, on his hand on your head tightening its grip, on the shakiness of your thighs and the intense need to both follow and stop.

he tugged on your hair, the sharp pain numbed out by the lag in brain function. you whimpered as he pulled you off coarse, as he pressed his ankle against you. “well?”

“wh-whole new mhm… meaning to riding boots,” you answered obediently, regaining your rhythm. “i better tie you in a better knot,” you kept going despite being out of breath, staring willingly at him.

he smirked as he lightly kicked you off, and you slid off balance onto the floor, right on your elbows and hip. you didn’t really care about the sharp pain in your elbows as he stared down at you.

levi picked his boot up, put the heel against your other thigh and pushed you onto your ass. he stood before you as you sat onto your palms. “then go tell them what they’ll think of every time you see these boots,” he muttered, returning to his desk.

[neiptune]

I think there's been a glitch

c/w: 6k wc, wedding date trope, friends to (possible) lovers, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, levi's smoothness has your brain short circuiting

Just as expected: you’re hating every second of it.

You love your family, you really do. Doesn’t matter how loud and overexcited and nosy they are, it’s always nice to take a few days off to travel back home. Sometimes it’s for birthdays, minor special occasions, surprise visits. Nothing was spontaneous about this specific occasion, though. Train tickets were bought months in advance, your dress picked facetiming your mom (she insisted), your arrival highly anticipated by aunts and uncles and cousins and old friends all coming together for the most significant event of the century: your little brother’s wedding.

To be absolutely honest, the day had a good start. Waking up at dawn didn’t bother you, not with the nutritious breakfast your mom had prepared and the excitement stirring behind your brother’s tense smile. The wedding was agreed to have a mix of traditional shinto-style (to please the bride’s family) and more laid back, western-style influences, something your family has always been accustomed to, given your dad’s roots.

The ceremony held at the shrine was emotional even for you. Hiromi looked gorgeous in her uchikake, gold threads and foil with motifs of waves and cranes standing out on a bright crimson base. You watched them drink the sake and exchange cups first, then vows and wedding rings. It was so hard to process than the man getting married was the same kid who once pooped himself in his crib at daycare and then proceeded to take off his diaper to play with the poop like it was play-doh. Sweet, sweet memories.

Everything started going downhill at the fancy hotel where the reception was set to be held.

The convention room is blinding in its beauty: white pillars, draping fabrics, pretty fairy lights and elegant floral arrangements compliment the venue and the minimalist but luxurious style your families decided to go with. You’re not foreign to wealth, your parents have worked hard to grant you and your sibling a comfortable life and you’re grateful for them. What you don’t like about your family, is how for your aunts and uncles and cousins, everything should constantly be tied to money and profit. Which is why they all turn up their noses when you reply to the dreaded “what’s your job again?” question. Which is why, at every family reunion, you’re forced to sit with your younger cousins and take part in the salary conversation (they could literally compare and brag for hours about raises and bonuses and working overtime and paid vacations). Which is why Aiko, already CEO of a join-stock company at her young age, had first introduced you to one of the employees from the financial department.

Floch Forster was certainly attractive, a real gentleman who’d take you out for fancy dinners, casual dates and fun rides on his flashy, red porsche cayenne. You liked him but your family had always liked him more, your brother going out for drinks with him, your dad inviting him over more and more frequently to watch baseball games or ask for help for the restoration of his old kawasaki ninja, a project he’d been working on for a while.

In the end, the relationship simply didn’t work out and you broke up with him in the most amicable way possible, the time spent together still worth cherishing. You were just too different from each other: his interests not matching yours, his friends way too stuck-up, his parents looking at you like you were some kind of gold digger.

But that’s when he became petty, cruel even, mocking your dreams, deriding your aspirations, sharp edged phrases and words thrown your way so harshly they still dance around your brain from time to time.

Are you surprised by his presence at your brother’s wedding? No. You knew he’d be invited, they’re still friends and you never really told your sibling how the separation actually went down. Is it shocking that he’s here with a pretty brunette anchored to his arm? Also no. He might be an asshole but he’s hot and rich, two qualities weighing pretty damn heavily on the bachelor scale. He’s also the main reason why you’d asked your painfully stoic, blasé friend to accompany you to the reception.

Yes, it was both a childish and desperate move, but you were willing to take drastic measures to save face before your very much extended very much elitist very much expectant family after the fatal phone call with your mom where you’d suddenly blurted out that you’d bring a special someone with you to the wedding.

Your love life (aka currently a big big void made of emotional unavailability & crippling loneliness) was yet another topic open to be attentively scrutinized by those around you. Normally you don’t mind, you really don’t, but just this one time you wanted it to be different. As much as you try not to let it get to you, the facts are that your younger brother is now married, your hot rich ex boyfriend has probably already proposed to his new girlfriend, you still haven’t been given the raise you were expecting and it plainly just sucks to be alone at weddings. It’s the fourth one you have attended on your own now and you can tell by your aunt’s sympathetic gaze and your cousins’ knowing giggles that you’re not gonna be able to push the he had to attend an emergency meeting with external partners lie any longer.

Frustration makes your stomach churn. Why couldn’t he have indulged you just this once?

“Oh, come on”

“No”

“Please!”

“Still no”

“I can beg”

“You’ve been begging for the past ten minutes”

“I can beg better?”

Levi’s resolute glare didn’t soften like it did on the rare occasions when he accommodated your requests.

“Why do you even need this?”

You heaved a deep sigh over his obstinacy, index finger lazily tracing the edge of the steaming cup in front of you. You’ve always been a coffee person but his is the only tea you’ll drink.

“D’you want the honest answer or the pathetic, moping one?”

He raised an eyebrow with a far too evident interest that had you rolling your eyes.

“Both”

“Well, if you must know, it’s because I’m a lame, lonely, disappointment of an adult who’s scared of facing her family’s overcritical comments and knowing glances at her younger sibling’s wedding” you paused to take a deep breath “that and the fact that I already lied and said I was gonna bring someone and my perfect ex everyone loves so much is gonna be there”

Levi slowly took a sip from his own cup, the classic bergamot flavor notes lingering with tantalizing velvety softness on his tongue.

“They both sound pathethic and moping to me”

You shrugged with a weak smile.

“They’re both honest, too”

“You’re gonna be fine” he pushed the little plate of shortbreads towards you.

“Did you hear the part about my perfect ex?” nevertheless, you accepted the cookie offer and, much to your friend’s horrified expression, dipped one into your tea prior to taking a bite.

“Give him my love” Levi ignores your frown and, more importantly, the annoyance he felt listening to you belittling yourself so blatantly.

“Okay” a defeated sigh leaves your lips as you take another cookie “not sure why I thought you’d get it”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Mouth still full, you gestured vaguely with your hands, tiny crumbs attached to your fingertips catching his attention for a split second before you speak again.

“Why would you? You’re a functioning adult. Should’ve asked someone as fucked up as me, maybe Reiner from the marketing department will—”

“A functioning adult?” Levi cut in, tone oozing with skepticism “that’s new. You usually refer to me as the clean freak with a stick up his ass”

“Which you are” your clarification is met with another glare “but you wouldn’t understand what being lame means”

“How so?” he challenged, eyes narrowed and some sort of weird warmth in the pit of his stomach he didn’t know how to shake off.

“You have your shit together, Levi. M’sure your family wouldn’t shoot sympathetic gazes your way if you showed up to your brother’s wedding on your own”

“I don’t have a brother”

“Not the point” you let out an obnoxious groan as you slightly pushed the empty cup away and dropped your head to rest on your overlapped arms, forehead pressing on the soft fabric of your sleeve. Levi sat still, grey eyes fixed on you.

“You’re not lame, idiot” no one else would’ve been able to tell that his tone had gone softer “I’m not dating anyone either and you still think I’m a functioning adult”

Exasperated, you turn your head so that your cheek is now pressed to your wrist as you glare at him.

“But that’s your choice. You don’t like anyone. While I had three of my coworkers come to my desk just to ask who the handsome dude passing by to bring me a homemade bento box was”

Half a smile dripping with smugness tugged at his lips, one that caused you to roll your eyes again.

“Don’t even” you warn, already gagging at the idea of him considering to visit you at work more often “forget I said anything. I’ll handle it”

As Levi inched across the table to flick your forehead and then got up to collect your cups, you had to quickly whisk away the thought of how much your family would have genuinely liked someone like him too.

On second thought, it’s not really fair to blame him. You might not be a greatly functioning one, but you’re still an adult. You can face something as trivial as the disappointment of multiple generations of your family, right? Either way, it would’ve felt wrong. It would’ve been awkward. Levi is stiff, way too cold, the opposite of cordial. He would hardly be credible as the good friend he actually is, let alone pass for a boyfriend. Has he ever even dated someone? You’re sure he has, given how weirdly popular he is. Yeah, there was one girl, what was her name again? Petra? Ugh, he hardly shares anything truly personal with you anyway. Sure, you can guess he’s a good partner. Handsome, kind, talented enough to cook killer meals, maybe even good in bed. It just wouldn’t hurt him to be a little more… amicable. But maybe that’s what women find attractive? The fact that he’s like this weird, interesting secret thing to continuously discover and unwrap until it suddenly turns into the perfect, passionate lover any woman wants to end up with?

The champagne you’re downing at the hotel bar is proving to be a wonderful ally, although your mind currently seems to be wandering a little. Or it was, at least until a familiar, awfully close and quite frankly unsettling voice causes a harsh return to the pathetic reality you’re trying to escape.

“Drowning your sorrows in alcohol? You haven’t changed at all” the venomous smile on his face is so painfully familiar it has your insides twisting right away.

“I’m really not in the mood, leave me alone” you mutter, not even sparing him a glance as you stubbornly focus on the golden bubbles popping in your freshly filled flute.

But Floch takes a seat right next to you and elegantly orders two martinis.

“Shaken, not stirred” he adds, to live up to yet another clichè. You can hardly suppress a snort.

“I would argue you already are. Alone, I mean” the rhythmic drumming of his fingers on the mahogany counter distracts you for a few seconds. When your gaze finally meets his, the fake sympathy glistening mischievously in his amber eyes almost has you barfing on the spot.

“Where’s your trophy wife? Is she even legal?”

Unperturbed, Floch smiles sweetly at you.

“She reminds you of yourself, doesn’t she? A young dove in need of rescue, held captive by the wrong guy” he inches closer, smile growing wider “but she’s nothing like you. You’re too exhausting to love, no one in their right mind would choose that”

And just like that, memories that cut as deep as razors make their way back to you right then and there.

If you really want to lose weight you shouldn’t eat the free bread at restaurants.

I feel like you’re faking this just to make me feel guilty.

You’re not that attractive anymore, you know that?

I’m sorry you feel that way.

Could’ve done so much better than you all this time.

Now I don’t feel so bad about having cheated.

The flute in your hand might very well shatter from how tightly you’re holding it, knuckles white as two drinks gracefully slide in front of you. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, not him entirely but letting him know that he can still get under your skin.

“Fuck you” in a final, desperate attempt at playing off your discomfort as indifference, you hold him level in your gaze, a boldness so weak it has him chuckling.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You both turn to your right, the shock laced into your features comical enough to be met with a patient, slight smile.

Levi looks nothing less than dashing in his black suit, hands buried in the pockets of pants you wouldn’t even think he’d own. Since you’re pretty sure the alcohol has you hallucinating at this point, you open your mouth to voice your surprise, Floch’s presence long forgotten and filed away at the back of your mind. But right before you can sabotage yourself with dumb, unnecessary inquiries, Levi takes a step forward and with one, swift motion, cradles your cheek in his hand to gently press his lips to your forehead.

“Sorry I’m late” he murmurs, fighting back another smile before the dumbstruck way you keep looking at him.

“We haven’t met” Levi’s eyes follow the voice and flicker to the person sitting next to you. That’s when you snap back to reality once again. Goddamn, maybe the champagne wasn’t that good of an ally after all.

“We haven’t” he replies and Floch introduces himself, offering a hand that never gets shaken. Levi gives him a nod instead, a silvery gaze cold as steel you’ve never seen him direct to anyone. Perhaps that’s why it makes you shiver.

“Should we go? I’d like to meet your parents” his voice is kind as he looks at you again and you accept the support of his hand to hop down from the barstool. He doesn’t let go as he guides you away from the hotel bar and lightly squeezes your hand even if it’s cold and clammy.

“How are you here? When… why?” you whisper, still unable to shake off the shock of his sudden, unexpected presence.

“Stop asking dumb questions and play your part”

That’s more like it, you think. Thank god for the infuriating, irritating tone and impatient glare. Their familiarity will certainly be enough to ground you despite the warmth you can still feel on your forehead, right where his lips were pressed a few seconds earlier.

But then he looks at you again, head slightly tilted to the side, eyes slowly taking in your figure so blatantly, in a way so uncommon for him, it has the same warmth from before exploding in your chest as well.

“You look very nice, by the way”

Fuck being grounded, apparently.

The champagne is no longer buzzing in your veins but it might as well be since your mind feels all over the place and you haven’t had a single second to collect your thoughts. Not in the middle of so many introductions, your mother’s obnoxious questions, your very much tipsy aunt’s inappropriate jokes, the microphone you had to approach and the speech you had to give in front of hundreds of people, one of them always focused on you with such intensity you won’t have to rewatch the videotape at family reunions to know that words came out ungraceful and wrong.

To be honest, the most unsettling thing is how smoothly the whole thing is going. It’s not weird, it’s definitely not awkward and he seems to be in complete control. Staggered, you’re left watching with wonder floating in incredulous eyes, a Levi you don’t think you’ve ever met before. It’s so effortless, the way he speaks to people he’s never met before and manages to come off as interesting, witty, charming. He’s smiling, he’s even respectfully offering elegant chuckles to uncomfortably personal questions and stories you just know he doesn’t actually think are funny.

As you dine at the table filled with curious old friends and noisy cousins, for the first time able to stay silent as all the attention is directed towards someone other than yourself, a weird thought crosses your mind. Levi, your friend Levi, fits so well. He’s perfectly at ease around chatty strangers, bold roses, tea lights and candles in clear metallic holders. How’s that even possible? The Levi you know, your Levi, curses under his breath if his usual barista tries to make small talk. He grunts if the cashier at the cinema chirps an overly excited hope you enjoy the movie, sir. You literally know he’s once replied to one of his clients’ email with please stop hoping your email finds me well, it never does.

So who’s the person sitting next to you, warm knee flush against yours underneath the table, features relaxed, pink tinted cheeks, courtesy of the cabernet sauvignon you’ve been served? It has your head spinning, the thought of him enduring a 4-hour train trip (he hates trains) to reach a town he’s never been to (he hates Kobe and its humid, subtropical climate) to attend a wedding (he hates social gatherings) as your date. What had him changing his mind? When did he change it? How is he so good at coming off as this bundle of… of… confidence and magnetism and graciousness?

He’s been impeccable so far, going as far as to bring a shugi-bukuro envelope with 50.000 JPY inside as a wedding gift.

Isn’t that what they’d expect from the groom’s sister’s partner?

Clearly, you have every intention of giving him that money back. As soon as you recover from the sudden and absolutely unexplainable embarrassment you feel every time his eyes flicker to you during a conversation or the shudder that runs down your spine when his hand gently presses on the small of your back to guide you from one table to the other, as different family members and friends of yours excitedly motion you to approach them.

It doesn’t have anything to do with him specifically, you tell yourself. It’s just the shame you must be feeling at carrying out such a pathetic act in front of everyone, it’s the awkwardness of having forced one of your closest friends to go out of his way to support your stupid, childish plan that now has you feeling all weird and vulnerable. Levi is not being his usual self and that makes you uncomfortable because you’re not allowed to be your usual self in turn. No sarcastic remarks, no witty comebacks, not a drop of the usual teasing you enjoy annoying him with.

It’s not him, it’s the whole setting. That’s what you tell yourself when Levi asks you to dance.

“Why?” you come off as defensive and he furrows his brows, confused.

“Because it’s what couples do at weddings?”

���We don’t have to” you’re not sure what you’re doing at this point “you can’t even dance”

He huffs at that, inching a little closer to casually lift the strap of your cocktail dress, cool fingertips barely brushing the skin of your arm as they guide the thin length of fabric up to your shoulder. The simple, intimate gesture stirs something in you.

“Are you coming or not? He’s watching”

You follow his gaze and meet Floch’s, three tables to the left. At this point the thought of him seems so worthless, so distant in time, you don’t even care about his judgmental glare anymore. But you don’t have the chance to make that clear, because your date whispers a soft “come on” so close to your ear his voice seems to trickle down your spine just to make you shiver and then offers his arm as an invitation for you to get up.

Regular you would’ve mocked the gesture, called him a victorian ghost or something. Current you, on the other hand? Apparently she’s accepting the support of his arm and can barely register Aiko’s excited squeal as she follows him all the way to the different couples already filling up the middle of the convention room, too disoriented to even remember she is the one who can’t dance. Still, the upbeat rhythm of the song being played is familiar enough to give you a false sense of security: you can wing it. Until you can’t. Because right as you position yourself in front of your friend with a tense smile, the familiar beat is abruptly taken from you. The music doesn’t stop, it just has the audacity to change into an excessively romantic, exceptionally slow, sappy track.

But Levi doesn’t look as dazed as you. He doesn’t waver as he pulls you close with one swift motion, right hand warm on your back while you barely have the time to balance yourself, fingers tightening around the fabric of his jacket, right above the shoulder.

“You’re being weird” he clasps your other hand, one eyebrow raised in that overcritical way of his.

“You’re being weird” you parrot back.

“What d’you mea—fuck” he curses as quietly as possible when you stomp on his foot, looking down for the first time to notice how weirdly and out of step you’re actually moving.

“Shit, sorry!” you, on the other hand, are not as quiet and attract the unwanted attention of the couple dancing nearby.

“What exactly are you doing?” Levi’s tone is familiarly mocking, which takes some of the weird awkwardness away.

“I’m not really good at this, okay?” you retort, praying your harsh reply remains private this time. Amused, he hums.

“No way”

“Shut up” you whine and accidentally step on his expensive leather shoe again, hard enough to make him hiss.

“Just follow my lead” Levi gives your left hand an impatient squeeze and you scoff with a theatrical ugh.

“Sexist”

He rolls his eyes but says nothing because you comply and honestly try to keep track of how he’s moving, intensely focused on not trampling on his foot again.

“Hey” his voice is dangerously soft once again “eyes on me”

Reluctantly, you look up from your feet and take a deep breath.

“Why are you this tense?”

“M’not a good dancer” you blurt the words out, as if to convince yourself. He’s noticed, of course he’s noticed. Idiot.

“Okay” Levi stops for a moment and gently grabs your wrists to guide your arms around his neck. He then positions his hands on your hips and applies the slightest pressure to guide your movements. “Better?” he asks and you know he’s just wondering if this is easier for you, but the dryness of your throat seems to be taking over your ability to speak. You resort to a simple nod as he sways to the beat, feet barely lifting while stepping from side to side. You get accustomed to the movement after a while and manage to move your body slowly back and forth, the comfort of not feeling like a wooden block allowing you to relax a little.

“How are you so good at this?” it almost sounds like you’re accusing him, must be why he cracks a smile.

“Took a few classes with Hange, they were obsessed and had no one else to go with”

You’re finally able to let out a genuine, incredulous laugh.

“I’m sorry, what? So you just joined? Goodness of your heart?”

Levi shrugs.

“They had to buy me lunch for a month. Totally worth it”

There’s mirth glistening in his eyes when the pressure of his hands changes slightly, the left one tightening on your waist to subtly guide you in the opposite direction. Has he danced like this with Hange as well? If yes, did they feel as flustered and ridiculous as you’re feeling? Probably not, because they’re friends and friends should not experience the weird body reactions you seem to be having at the moment, goosebumps blossoming underneath his fingertips, the staccato of your heartbeat, blood wooshing in your ears. Fuck.

“Tense again” his eyes are narrowed now, but not in his usual, threatening way. He’s studying you, looking for something he can’t seem to pinpoint amidst your dazed expression and sweaty hand. He would’ve been grossed out by anybody else’s palm but this is you, so Levi can’t really bring himself to give a shit.

“I’m sorry” you murmur and the sudden, sheepish route catches him off guard. You’re avoiding his gaze, eyes focused on something, somewhere over his shoulder.

“For what?”

“This whole charade” you whisper the last word, head hanging low just an excuse not to look at him “I’m so pathetic you felt bad enough to drop all your plans, come all the way here, be perfect and nice to everyone, spend so much money and I can’t even dance…” you sniffle, horrified by the sensation of being on the verge of bursting into tears in the middle of the dance floor.

Levi is silent long enough to prompt you to timidly look up from your shoes again. You’re worried he’s gonna be mad because what the hell, this is what you wanted. You asked him to do this for you and now it’s too late to whine about how sorry you are. But he doesn’t look mad. His features are unreadable as you return his gaze, which stirs a whole new kind of nervousness in you.

“I’m going to twirl you” the gentle warning takes you by surprise as Levi takes your hand from behind his neck, steps back a little and lifts your arm above your head. A bit stiffly, you turn around under it.

“Again” he prompts, arm already guiding you through another twirl. You comply, so clumsily a chuckle slips past your lips and Levi cracks another smile as you balance yourself against him, arms around his neck once again.

“See? You can dance” he mutters with a tone so soft it makes your heart squeeze.

“Please” you scoff, voice still a little broken that just won’t. Do.

Levi hums to himself, like he does whenever he’s trying to come to a decision.

“Let’s dip”

Your eyes comically grow in size.

“Let’s not?”

“I’ll do all the work” he playfully gives your hip a light squeeze to emphasize his words “you just have to let go”

“I’m not exactly good at letting go” you hope he can sense the warning in your tone but all you get is another eye roll.

“Yeah, I noticed” his tone, unlike yours, is weirdly serious “d’you trust me?”

Oh, well, putting it that way surely isn’t fair.

“Unfortunately, you’ve given me a reason or two to do that” you heave another sigh, defeated. Another smile tugs at his lips.

“I’m gonna do it slowly” he reaches behind his neck to grab your hand again, while his fingertips rise from your hip to your upper back.

“Twirl” Levi gently spins you again and his touch is featherlike when it glides down your side, grazes your stomach and settles on your lower back as you turn around, warm palm pressing firmly against it. The hand holding yours anchors your arm around his neck, then finds place on the nape of yours.

“Now, relax” it’s barely a whisper, so close you can’t hold back a shudder he pretends not to notice.

You soften your knees and then, with a movement so swift and natural, you’re turned to the side and pressed flush against him for a second, nestled in his embrace before you shut your eyes and Levi gently dips you, one of his strong arms secured around your waist to support your weight, the hand sustaining your neck tightening around your hair for a moment so brief you think you’ve imagined it.

He pauses as if you weigh nothing, then slowly brings you up again and you open your eyes, brows furrowing right as he lets completely go of you and the warmth of his arms is taken away so abruptly.

“You okay?” you didn’t think you’d be the one asking the question but something seems to be bothering him as he returns your confused gaze.

“Yeah. Can we take a break?” still weirdly well mannered, you find yourself thinking as you agree to make your way to your table again. Only he stops you right before you can take a seat next to Aiko, who’s blatantly gushing over you’re not sure what, precisely. Is it him? Or the weird dance that had you looking like a complete fool in front of everyone?

“How long before the cake?” he politely asks your cousin and she shrugs, not even attempting to hide the wide grin stretching her lips.

“Maybe around ten minutes”

“Permission to steal the groom’s sister for around ten minutes?”

Aiko’s chuckle isn’t enough to distract you from the tightening of your chest, something not entirely unpleasant swarming around in your stomach when he slips his fingers in between yours.

“Permission granted” she winks and you still, for the life of you, cannot understand why your heart flutters as you follow him outside the room, away from the party and the music and the chatter and all those happy, proud glances you’re no longer able to return because of how embarrassed you are by your own lie.

“Where are we going?” you bring yourself to ask, finding it exceptionally odd that he’s waiting for the elevator.

“My room”

“What? Why?”

Levi turns his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowing at your strangled tone.

“I forgot the wedding gift on the nightstand”

“Oh” you let out a nervous chuckle “right. And why d’you need me for that?”

“You look like you’re about to throw up, thought you could use a few minutes away from the crowd”

Well, he’s not wrong. But that doesn’t mean he gets to know.

“Dunno what you’re talking about” you flash him a fake smile and he skeptically hums as the doors open and you step inside.

Of course his room is located at the top floor of the building, where all the suites are. One thing about Levi is that he likes treating himself: whether it’s shopping from brands that produce top quality loose leaf teas, selecting premium suiting fabrics or always ordering the most expensive red wine at a restaurant, his taste is impeccable. He travels first class and only stays at 5-star hotels, so you really shouldn’t feel the guilt pangs stinging like needles in your throat when he swipes the key card through the magnetic reader and swings the door open. You shouldn’t feel so bad while taking in the king size bed, the LCD tv, the additional area with armchairs and a whole sofa, the private balcony. But you do. And when he turns to look at you, still standing by the door with a heartbreaking, bashful expression taking over your features, Levi clenches his jaw.

“What are you doing?” you ask as you watch him slide the balcony glass door.

“So many questions” he prompts you to precede him with a slight tilt of his head.

“What about the gift?”

Levi hates seeing you so defensive, so upset. He’s not used to that weird self-consciousness, not when you’re with him at least. Didn’t he come to obtain the exact opposite of what he’s getting? Isn’t he here to shield you from embarrassment, uneasiness? Why are you persisting in your stubborn shame?

“I get around ten minutes, remember?” he attempts a smile your tense features choose not to mirror. You sigh softly instead and, still uncertain, accept his invitation.

Outside the air is cool, a balm for your feverish skin. The balcony furniture includes two wooden armchairs, one small coffee table and a small couch. You plop down on the latter, not even having the energy to properly appreciate the beauty of a sparkly Kobe right at your feet, silhouettes of skyscrapers standing out against the night sky, the flickering lights of the harbor shining in the distance, tower so familiar you’d recognize it from a mile away. It’s home.

“So” Levi makes himself comfortable next to you, the breeze gently combing his hair back “wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Plenty is wrong, the most urgent matter being the overpowering attraction you’re feeling for one of your closest friends. It’s fine, no use lying to yourself any longer. Maybe it’s always been there, underneath all the teasing and the jokes and his rare smiles that always felt like small victories you got to collect and preserve in your memory at the end of each day, when  you’d often replay the hours spent together as pretty movie frames in your mind right before drifing off to sleep. But it’s easy, playing weird feelings off as regular familiarity that comes with friendship. You just didn’t think this night would make things feel so different, so good.

He’d be a great actual date, a wonderful actual boyfriend too, probably. He’s already a wonderful, actual friend. One that dropped everything to rush to the rescue of annoying, silly you, seemingly an adult but really a scared excuse of a grown up who can’t confront her family on a matter as trivial as not being in a relationship. It’s mortifying, really. You wouldn’t think it’d feel that humiliating, especially not in his presence.

Slender fingers delicately close on the fist you don’t realize you’re clenching. They’re warm as they try to make their way underneath yours, a silent plea for you to let go of the fabric clutched in your hand.

“I already told you” your hand lets go at last and slips easily from underneath his touch, the silk of your carefully picked cocktail dress wrinkled already.

“You feel guilty about me dropping all my plans, coming all the way here, beng perfect and nice to everyone, spending so much money…” he’s being playful but the teasing doesn’t elicit the eye roll or chuckle he was hoping he’d get. Your head just hangs lower, chin almost pressing to your chest, as if you’re trying to curl into yourself.

“About that, you’re gonna accept a complete refund. Train tickets, this room, wedding gift, everyth—”

Levi cuts you off by grabbing your jaw and turning your head towards him, eyes narrowed in a familiarly impatient gaze. He can’t believe the nonsense you’re sputtering out, the weird formality of it all.

“Stop that” his voice vibrates with determination and words are forced to die in your throat as he inches closer, grip loosening ever so slightly “you keep looking at things and seeing the opposite of what they are”

“So what, you didn’t spend a fortune to be here?” you challenge and he sighs, as done as a person can humanly be.

He lets go of your jaw but you don’t pull back.

“You asked me to be here”

“And I’m trying to apologize for it!”

God, you’re wearing him out.

You get up from the couch and, out of frustration, rest your back against the railing, palms behind you pressed on the cold, metal edge. Levi is looking at you so intensely you’re tempted to turn around and just take the view in to calm yourself because this is going downhill enough to become a fight and fights with Levi are never pretty. You should know.

“Remember the reasons you put forward to try and convince me to come?” his calm tone is such a sharp contrast to his hardened features, it takes you by surprise.

“Pretty sure I called myself lame and pathetic quite a few times” you shoot him a frown.

“Yeah” he gets up as well “then I end up actually getting here and guess what I found?”

You let out a dry laugh, one with not an ounce of humor embedded in it.

“A version of me worse enough to be brought in your room to hide?”

Two well measured steps and Levi is in front of you right as you cross your arms in defense.

“The version of you I already know” he retorts, exasperated “beautiful, intelligent, clumsy. A functional adult with a family that loves her very much”

“You’re drunk” you breathe out but it’s yours the head that’s spinning. Somehow, Levi knows. At least that’s what you guess when he steps closer, arms effectivey caging you against the railing as he slightly leans forward.

“Hardly” he mutters, pensive, and you swear his eyes flicker to your lips for a second “you don’t see things for what they are. I didn’t see a perfect ex, just a self entitled asshole. Didn’t meet hypercritical family members, just old-school people who are unyielding in their affection for you. I could’ve stayed home, honestly, you seem to be bothered by me the most”

“I’m not bothered by you, don’t be fucking stupid” you blurt out, saliva levels down to zero at this point. What is he even doing? Why is he so close, why does he smell so nice and where the fuck is that wedding gift?

“Ah, there she is” Levi offers a soft smile “had me missing her all night”

He then moves a strand of hair away from your forehead and the pads of his fingers linger on your temple, then barely graze your skin as they travel all the way down to your cheek and along your jaw.

You’re unfamiliar with this version of him. It’s a version that compliments the one that’s met your family and friends, the wedding date you’ve been lucky enough to score. This version knocks the wind out of your lungs and has your knees weak.

But then something happens, the snap of invisible fingers and, just like that, the magic wears out. Your skin is left burning and his arms set you free as he takes a step back and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I had a good time so enough with your guilt-ridden bullshit”

You’re barely able to catch your breath, still dizzy from the change of the overall mood. Perhaps he’s right and you’re the drunk, hallucinating one.

Levi slides the balcony door again but goes back inside first this time, leaving you little to no time to pull yourself together or calm the pounding of your heart. He collects no envelope from the nightstand before you both leave the room, a burning sensation churning in your stomach as you follow him down the hallway, feeling utterly boneless when you stop in front of the elevator. Maybe that Petra girl did have a point.

“There’s still one thing you probably haven’t noticed about me” right as a ding echoes in the empty hallway he turns his head to look at you, standing a few feet behind “I’m a terrible fucking liar. Wouldn’t convince anyone if I tried”

[isabel-magn0lia]

Eren looks so tall next to Levi wow :0

[naammiii]

KINDA WANNA DELETE EVERYTHING ON MY BLOG AND MAKE IT AOT RELATED??!?!!!

[marleysfinest]

levi x y/n, fluff! no content warnings. as always, characters aged up to 21+

ever since introducing connie to the wonders of a facemask, you've inadvertently become the scouts' personal physical therapist. for a fee, of course, you've become accustomed to helping an aching solider relax their muscles, minds, and come out smelling great in the process. many scouts have never had the luxury of a pamper session, and it was only through sheer privilege that you had. despite coming from a wealthy family inside wall sina, you chose to join the scouts through an obligation to help humanity. it's tiresome and gruelling work, but that didn't mean you couldn't help out your comrades where you can.

jean is a fan of a head massage. reiner enjoys some gua sha. hange finds some relaxation with the help of a foot rub. even erwin hasn't been able to resist investigating the rumours, and lets you carry out some light eyebrow threading one night - while sworn to secrecy, of course. everybody has sought the help of your relaxing touch at some point so far. all except one.

levi scoffs at connie's repeated suggestions that he relaxes, even for twenty minutes, and has taken to physically rebuking hange's suggestion of a foot rub, grimacing at the thought. his argument is always that as long as he can sleep, he can relax, and that's enough for him. no amount of arguing over the physical benefits of acupuncture was going to change that.

one night following a particularly gruelling day of training, wherein you'd all been subjected to cross-country stamina tests, sparring, and riding, you cause grief among your comrades by declaring your services closed for the evening, feeling simply too weak and needing to rest yourself. the force needed to satisfy jean's desired pressure for his massage would be too much on its own; they'd all have to wait until tomorrow. you collapse into bed in your now private bedroom - your roommate had been granted furlough to attend a family funeral - and relished sleepily in the silence for a few seconds. that was, until a gentle knock at your door stirred you back to life with a sigh. what part of 'no' didn't they understand?

"I told you, you assholes!" you bark, marching for the door, "I'm not doing anything today..."

you swing the door open and feel the blood run from your face, as captain levi haunts your doorstep. you stumble backwards and hastily salute.

"captain!" you stutter, "I'm sorry, I thought you were..."

"at ease," he mutters. silence falls between you both, as you notice something different about the captain tonight. he's without his usual air of distain, seeming much more... well, embarassed. he glances down the hallway before addressing you again.

"I hear... I hear you're good at getting knots out of people's backs..."

the way he speaks is laden with hesitancy, as if he hated that he was even there at all. he probably did; in a roundabout way, he's asking for help, which you can't imagine he's accustomed to doing. you raise your eyebrows before you have a chance to think.

"uh... yeah, yeah that's right."

you step to the side to silently welcome the captain inside, and with another glance down the hall, he obliges. when you make sure the door is securely locked, you turn to see him stood awkwardly in the centre of the room. how bad must he have been feeling to push him to come here? he clears his throat, and does everything to avoid eye contact.

"how do you usually do this?" he asks, arms firmly folded across his chest. you feel your mouth go dry as you realise what you're about to ask of him.

"well, for the back, I usually need people to, uh... remove their...y'know..."

asking levi to remove his shirt wasn't something you thought you'd ever do, and so actually coming out with it proves difficult. with a gentle nod, however, he unbuttons his shirt and removes it, folding it neatly before placing it on your bed.

"do I need to lie down?" he asks. you nod, still in utter bewilderment over the situation you find yourself in. remembering that you had a job to do, you quickly snap yourself out of your daze and go about preparing yourself. you wash your hands in warm water and make sure they stay warm, and you fetch your best massage oil from your cupboard - jean certainly never got the best stuff, he didn't pay enough. it smells of lavender and camomile; the best mix for relaxation. you pull up your desk chair to the side of the bed and massage some of the oil into your palms, still not believing you're about to touch captain levi's skin.

"this might be a little cold," you warn. levi turns his head away from you to face the wall, half burying it in his arms as he does so.

"it's fine."

with a deep breath you begin, unable to stop yourself from shaking just a little bit. with the gentlest touch you can manage, you begin, starting at his shoulders. as you get a feel for his structure, you reluctantly notice the canvas in front of you is peppered with small scars and bruises, some old, some new. his skin is surprisingly soft, but heavily flawed, revealing more about himself than he perhaps wanted. you tear your eyes away and turn back to the job at hand; he ha some intense knots that needed to be worked. his shoulders are painfully tight, and you discover a particularly large knot between his shoulder blades that makes him wince as you apply pressure.

"sorry!" you bleat, "that one might be a little painful to get rid of."

"it's fine," he reassures, "do what you gotta do. that's the thing that forced me to come here."

taking this as permission to proceed, you lay your hands back on his skin and resume working, melting away the smaller knots and softening the tense muscles. he winces again as you increase the pressure between his shoulder blades, but don't stop this time. you eventually finding yourself needing to get to your feet to find the right angle to apply the right pressure, and just as you start to break into a sweat, the knot begins to dissolve, and you stand in shock as you see levi physically begin to relax, released from the grip of tension. you ease the pressure and take your seat again, now simply calming his muscles with a gentler touch across his back and shoulders.

levi hasn't felt physical relaxion like this in a very long time. not ever, probably. it had taken everything he had to even ask, but he finds himself grateful that he did. the years of running, fighting, killing, torturing, had finally started to take a toll on him physically, and that damned knot in his back was what had finally forced his hand. he wasn't able to even sit at his desk without being in excruciating pain, and it was only a matter of time before it would start affecting the way he fought. he lay face-down on the bed, eyelids feeling heavy as they fluttered closed, absolutely melting beneath your touch. the experience wasn't all that unfamiliar. the smell of lavender was bittersweet as it soaked into his skin; he vividly remembers his mother using bags of the dried flower to ward off damp and moths, and so she always smelled of fields lavender. confident that you can't see him in the dark, he smiles gently at the memory, and decides that he doesn't want it to be over yet.

"listen, if you don't mind," he utters, "jean... said you do head massages?"

[sapphirewolf100]

H i m b

I’m a bit rusty + haven’t drawn w/ pencils/pen/marker in quite some time, but yes I felt I must draw my current blorbo obsession: Levi from AoT/SnK

Art made by yours truly.

[standardlilith]

finished aot, here are my thoughts:

1000% would still smash

[quiveringdeer]

The way I kept thinkin Kim Hong-joong was a short king just to realize he's taller than half of Straykids! 😂😂😂

[happybird16]

I think Blue-Jeans would be a good nickname for Levi that'd he'd absolutely fucking hate

He'd be so exasperated, "Stop calling me that -it's not a fucking nickname if it's longer anyways!"

[jaeshoney]

ever since i saw how short levi was it killed the attractiveness for me in sorry

[aot-fan-fic]

There’s no way I could ever have a love IRL that’s like the love I’d have with Levi right?

I mean - devils advocate, secrets kept between us, lowkey, passionate, driving each other to the limits for sanity, power, and sex. Becoming One.

That’s not really possible with someone, right? Especially not a 5’3 dark haired guy that’s gonna understand my past and actively pull me from the bad reminders while simply saying “I just knew you’d be interested over here more than over there.” And brushing it all of.

Totally impossible, but the dreams are pretty nice 🖤

[pussysidon]

When he's about to die and he seems only mildly inconvenienced

Reading the Attack on Titan manga is great cause you get some absolute gold lines from Levi like:

Literally the realest thing anyone has ever said in this entire series

[pinkberryfox]

I saw something that hurt my heart about him being cruel or violent in a relationship or something so I’ve got some headcanons about Levi Ackerman.

He’s baby. He’s grumpy baby, but he’s baby.

Slight NSFW.

Traumatized! Levi headcanons:

-Levi who flinches and grabs your wrist when you first raise your hand to brush his hair out of his face, because he’s used to being hit.

-Levi who wants so BADLY to be good to you even when he struggles to be romantic or open (he’s never known how) because he thinks it’s the only thing he’s done right

-Levi who’s afraid to show you his body because it’s scarred and rough and calloused and thinks you only deserve someone beautiful

-Levi who is used to being gawked and whistled at for his fighting skills and pretty face and can’t help but melt when you look at him with tender eyes and concern because he’s not used to it

-Levi who’s afraid to involve you in his life and keeps you secret because you’re soft and kind and somehow he feels you’ll die like everyone else if he doesn’t keep a distance (for a while)

-Levi, who if you’re in the Corps, makes every strategy revolve around your safety, until he loses his squad.

-Levi who pleads with you to quit the Corps before the job destroys you- his brows furrowed, holding your hand in both of his, ready to fall to his knees if that’s what it takes.

-Levi, who when he finally kisses you, treats you like glass. He’s had so much violence and he just wants to be careful with you

-Levi who can’t ever bring himself to “fuck” you, who only ever makes love to you (even when it’s fast and deep), praising you, worshipping you, memorizing you, focusing on your pleasure over his.

-Levi who tells you, “Relax for me. I’ve got you. You’re so pretty. Hold on to me.”

-Levi who gives the best possible aftercare, cleaning and holding you, giving you water and telling you he loves you.

-Levi who thinks you’re precious. He may call you a little shit, but there’s always the hint of a smile on his face and his gaze is soft.

-Levi, who when you argue, never raises his voice, and will leave the room to cool down with a short “I’ll be back,” before he approaches a topic again because he’s not a ‘captain’ with you, he’s your lover.

-Levi whose heart flutters when you call him beloved, or tell him he’s sweet, or that he makes you happy.

-Levi who calls you sweet names- but only in private. Never ‘corny shit’ like princess or dear, but simple things like ‘(insert color here) eyes’.

-Levi who looks at you reverently, because you’re the best thing he’s ever had.

PART 2

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ safe haven — levi ackerman

summary: all you've ever wanted to do was take care of levi.

contents: fem!reader, established relationship, 18+ mdni, baths, fluff, soft!levi, light angst, takes place in early seasons, love, handjobs but the smut is very brief and not graphic — 2.1k

notes. i am so emotional about him

the bathroom door opens, cracks of light filtering through the shadowy space, causing beams to bounce off the soapy water. you don’t hear levi enter, but you feel him, just as you’ve always been able to.

he’s so silent, so careful as he steps, like he’s still expecting a titan to be around the corner at any moment, even when he’s home safe and sound. 

the door shuts, and the flash of yellow fades, the room glowing only by the few candles you have lit around the tub. 

levi says nothing, and you finally open your eyes, lazily trace your gaze across his frame, blurred by the grainy vision of darkness. he’s still wearing his uniform, the straps tight across his chest, though he’s already removing his cape, the emerald, billowing cloth resting loosely in his arms. 

there are swirls of dark colors on his face, deep scarlet cuts and blackened violet bruises. his hair falls over his forehead, thick strands stuck to his forehead from sweat and grime. the shadows under his eyes have only gotten worse, his cheekbones more prominent under his pale skin. 

“levi,” you say, in a voice that’s barely above a whisper, hesitant to break the peaceful silence. 

he glances over, severe blue eyes softening as they take in your relaxed form, glistening under the soapy water. your head rests on your forearms, and you gaze up at him from under wet lashes, the droplets of water sticking to each one. 

for a moment, he says nothing, contemplating as he gazes at you silently. then, he takes a step forward, kneels down to cup your cheek softly, a version of him no one else has ever seen emerging in the comfort of the darkness. 

you lean into his palm, his long, slender fingers rough and callused from all of the fighting. though there’s a comfort in that, in knowing that despite all he’s been through, all that the both of you have been through, you’ve made it home to one another. 

“sorry, the meeting ran late.” he says, studying you before tracing his thumb over your lips, watching the delicate skin bend with the pressure. “some people don’t know how to stop running their mouth.” 

you exhale a short breath, something akin to a laugh, and tug on his wrist, your hand soaking the sleeve of his white button-up. “come get in the bath with me.” 

levi makes a face at you, yanking his wrist loose from your grasp as he reclaims it for himself. “not after you’ve just washed off three days worth of grime. you’re sitting a tub of filth.”

“it’s clean, levi,” you sigh, sitting up so you can reach over the side of the tub for him once more. “i drew another bath, just for you.” 

a snort leaves him, but when he glances back over, he’s distracted by the droplets of water running over your chest, down the soft mounds of your exposed breasts. “i’m sure your intentions were nothing but pure,” levi remarks, but he’s already tugging at the leather straps that support the odm gear, unbuttoning his shirt. 

you laugh, and relax back into the tub as levi folds his clothes up neatly into a pile, despite needing to wash them later. his arms flex as he pulls at the straps of his boots, plains of corded muscles exposed from years of training. 

it’s stupid, really, that levi can’t see how beautiful he is, how he is a work of art, molded from the hands of gods. though they have treated him kindly in appearance, their generosity did not extend to other areas of his life. you try to remind him every day that he is loved, even if he is still uncomfortable about it, if he still shies away when you spout sappy, emotional words at him. 

levi dips a finger into the bath, testing the water, before he climbs in, the tension draining from his shoulders as he sinks into the tub. you’re upon him in an instance, maneuvering him so that he is between your softer thighs, his scarred, tense back on full display. 

“what are you doing?” levi asks, the words leaving him with a sigh as you trace his biceps, muscular and lean, a testament to the fact that levi is the strongest. 

“i’m washing your hair,” you say, but you focus instead on kissing his spine, dragging your fingertips across his hips. 

levi grabs your wrist, yanks hard, before his grip loosens. he twines his fingers with yours, peering over his shoulder so that your eyes meet.

“after all that work to get me naked, you won’t even let me kiss you.” 

you laugh, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades as he presses circles into your palm, relaxing the tendons. “you’ll get a kiss eventually.” 

levi huffs, but releases you, and lets you do as you please. you spill water over his head, the droplets running down the planes of his back, his dark hair turning an even deeper shade of black. 

as his breathing evens out, he grabs your knee under the water, lifting it so he can run a delicate touch down your calf. although, it’s soothing, distracting, you still manage to focus on massaging the soap into his scalp, the strands untangling as you run your hands through them. 

levi hums and leans further into you. it reminds you so much of a cat; he will always shirk away from affection, but he hate it even more when you stop giving it to him. 

you dig your fingers into the base of his skill, releasing the pressure there before massaging his shoulders. fists roam down his back, kneading out the muscles that so rarely get a break. the facade he puts on as captain of the survey corps fades away, and he becomes a softer version of himself, one who is still afraid to love but has always yearned for it even more. 

your hand drifts around him, around his waist, before you reach for his cock under the water, stroking it firmly as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

a stuttered exhale emerges from his chest. “what happened to pure motives?” he snorts, but his eyes flutter closed as you feel him grow harder in your palm.

you kiss his shoulder, up his neck, smiling against his skin. “i just can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

levi huffs out a sound of amusement, and though you can’t see his face, you don’t need to, to know that he is rolling his eyes. “you still haven’t let me give you a kiss,” he says, and you laugh into his back, feeling careless and happy and so full of love for the man who doesn’t let anyone treat him gently but you. 

“fine.” you sit straighter, lean forward so that your lips are the only thing levi sees when he turns his head. you curl them into a gentle smile, pucker them foolishly, but all of his attention is already on you. he craves you so deeply, he doesn’t bother to offer a snarky retort.

levi shifts into you, puffs of air leaving his lips before he kisses you, blue eyes a smokey color, grey with desire. he swipes his tongue along your mouth, tasting the soap that lingers on your skin, devouring you whole. while he kisses you, you stroke your hand up and down his cock, listening to the little sounds that leave his throat, the hoarseness that grows in his voice. 

it doesn’t take much to get levi to turn to putty in your hands; he hides his lust well, his devotion for you, but it is there nonetheless. perhaps he is a strong soldier, but he is a weak man when it comes to the affection of those who love him. 

“fuck,” levi mutters into your mouth, swallowing down his groans as you swipe a finger over his slit. he’s close, obviously so, and you run your other hand up his stomach, feel the ridges of his abdomen that are tense, even under the warm water. “feel so good,” he rasps, lazily kissing across your face. “you’re so pretty.” 

you smile, preening from the compliments that don’t come often, but are always so genuine. 

levi rests his forehead against yours and spills into your hand a moment later, his breathing off-kilter.

there is darkness in his stormy irises, but it clears around you, and that’s all you want, really; to be able to free levi of everything that plagues his mind, if only for a fleeting moment. 

he says your name, whispers it into lips that catch it, the word like honey in his deep voice. 

“hm?” you close you eyes, hearing the soft sounds of his breathing, the heart that beats beneath his ribcage. and it will continue to beat, until you can fight no longer, because you’ll never let a titan or anything else take him away from you.

levi cups your cheek once more, traces his thumb softly across the harsh bones. “you do know i love you… right?” 

the admission of affection catches you off guard. he’s said it before, but he uses it sparingly, and that’s always been okay with you. you know he is afraid of what might happen to you, and you know him too well to try and convince him otherwise. 

“i know. i’ve always know,” you say, kissing him again softly, his lips warm and plump. “you don’t have to tell me.” 

disbelief contorts his face, his dark eyebrows pinching together as he studies you. though you aren’t always the best at convincing him, you stroke his arm, massaging the muscles that are perpetually tense. it’s difficult to avoid the smattering of tender bruises that he can no longer hide under the military uniform. 

“i’m afraid i’m not good at showing it,” levi admits, and you soften, watching as uncertainty infiltrates his normally steadfast eyes. “but i hope—”

“levi,” you say, and you know the tenderness of it makes him cringe, but you can’t help it, not when your heart aches at every moment for the man before you. “just because you don’t show your love in the same way as me, doesn’t mean that i don’t feel it.” 

he stares, blinks once before nodding, letting the words seep into his soul. even though you know it won’t be the last time he admits his self-doubt, you don’t mind reassuring him. you’ll tell him as many times as it takes, repeat the words every moment you’re together for the rest of eternity, if only to make him realize how loved you feel by him. 

you lean back in the tub, your fingers wrinkled and pruned from sitting in the water for so long. but when you try to climb out, levi grabs you wrist once more, stops you with a gentle touch, and guides you back into him. 

his arms wrap around you tightly, nearly crushing your naked, warm bodies together with the force of his embrace. though he not one to let his vulnerabilities show, he still buries his head into your shoulder, lets you see how weary and broken down he has become. 

your nose digs into his dark, wet hair, the scent of shampoo lingering as you melt into him, hugging him back as closely. tension that you hadn’t realized you were hanging onto finally drains from your body, and you feel lighter than you have in days. as if your body has, at last, realized that you are no longer outside of the walls, and this is not a dream, but you truly are home, safe and sound. 

his fingers dig into your back, and you rest against him, never able to resist a moment wrapped up in his arms. 

levi sighs, dragging his nose across his neck. the water will turn cold soon, but you don’t mind. you’ll do whatever levi needs, wait here with him until you are both a shivering mess. 

“i’m glad you’re here,” levi says, just above a whisper as he kisses your collarbone. 

you smile. it’s not exactly another i love you, but you know that’s what he means.