Levi Drabble - Tumblr Posts

9:10 pm

The oil candle burns. Its illumination warms the cold hues of his office as Levi works on yet another pile of paperwork, except he’s becoming actively more distracted as the seconds go since his door opened and closed silently, and a body laid down on the leather couch to his left a few minutes ago.

He didn’t bother to look up at the intruder, then, knowing exactly who would dare to just come in like that, the familiarity of the action implanting itself as a daily habit in his brain.

Except that usually he just keeps on working, focusing on the task at hand so he could quickly finish and eventually follow up with his nightly routine with you, but today seems like it won’t allow that to happen. He can hear your light breathing, can see you from the corner of his eye, and he has to physically restrain himself from looking your way as he knows that all hope will be lost to his paperwork if he does.

It’s been a rather difficult day for the pair of you. With the preparations for an upcoming expedition getting more and more draining, everyone’s nerves start to naturally get worse. People are getting angrier at each other, you can see the cadets’ profound fear right through their eyes, and some people start spitting shit without knowing who’s listening.

And apparently, even Levi Ackerman isn’t immune to what people can say behind his back.

He knows who he is. He knows he can be perceived as cruel, stoic, inconsiderate, all sorta shitty stuff, he’s aware of it all and learned how to live it long ago without letting it bother him in the slightest. He can be called a cold-blooded killer right in his damn face and he’d agree, but when someone else is put in the narrative, and when that someone is you, it apparently changes everything.

He was unbothered at first, used to the banter thrown at him left and right, but he made the mistake of thinking about it, and his comrades could visibly see his irritation get worse throughout the day.

And they already deal with the grumpy man on the daily, it wasn't really that big of a change, except everyone started to slowly realize that he isn’t reacting like he usually does when they pick on him.

And to top everything off, you weren’t near the whole day.

He doesn’t know who was talking. Doesn’t know their names if he wanted to punish them or file for demotion, but he thinks that it barely even matters. He probably wouldn’t do anything if he could just because he thinks that maybe, maybe what they said is true.

“I don’t know how they ended up together, to be honest!” One of them had said. “They’re polar opposites! I don't know how the Sergeant handles him.”

“He ssoooo doesn’t deserve her. She’s way too nice to be stuck with someone like him.”

“What does she even see in him? He may be pretty in the face but he’s such an asshole, dude!”

“I bet he doesn’t even treat her right. How can someone like him even love?”

He didn’t need to hear that. He already had his doubts, he didn’t fucking need to hear that.

For real, how did you even come to like him back? How does anyone fall in love with someone like him? Yet here you are, sleeping on his couch, waiting for him to finish work because you can’t fall asleep unless you’re touching him.

Yet you wake up every day and look at him with that smile on your face, like he deserves everything good in this world.

He can’t help it, the constant feeling of never being enough. You’re like the sun, too bright and too warm to be contained, a gold shine forever painting the surface of your skin that he wishes he can kiss forever, just to make sure you were actually real.

You’re warm, considerate, kind, everything he’s not, his polar opposite, yet here you are.

How is this possible?

Levi loses his fight with his body and finally gazes at you.

You have an arm under your head, laying on your side to face him, eyes lightly shut. Your uniform still hugs your body, hair a neat mess on top of your head, and you make sure to keep your boots off the couch like Levi always tells you.

God, what would he do if you left? If you just realize how shitty he is and decide you don’t want anything to do with him anymore?

“You’re staring.” Your soft voice slightly startles the saddened man, his eyes widen a bit, but you keep yours closed. “Are you done with your paperwork?”

“No, not yet.”

You flutter your eyes open. “A break, then?”

Levi hesitates. He wants to touch you, wants to keep you as close to him as possible, yet feels undeserving even of that.

He doesn’t reply. His eyes do their little zoning out thing that you take notice of, and you can see what Hange was telling you of him just before you pass by. His jaw is set too firm, Adam's apple moving harshly against his delicate skin, and his eyebrows are furrowed. You don't even think that he is aware of his frown.

He only snaps back to reality when you start moving off the couch and closer to him. Something flashes in his eyes, you think you are mistaken when you take it for panic because it is wiped away from his expression as quickly as it appears.

Levi’s heart is surely going to burst out of his chest if it continues on like this. It gets even worse when your hand touches his, and you can’t help but notice when his chest trembles as he tries to regulate a healthy rhythm, and it only fuels your worry more.

You climb on his lap, his hands immediately finding your back, while yours roam from his trembling, toned chest to tense shoulders that only seem to relax under your touch.

You smile at him. You’re always smiling at him.

“Do you wanna talk to me about anything?” You ask in the softest voice you can.

Levi’s brain seems to high-wire because, once again, he fails to reply. His confused frown turns sad, turns desperate only little by little, and his arms tighten around you like you can disappear right then and there, turn into fine dust and leave him strangled with only bittersweet memories.

His usually straight lips are curved the slightest of curves downwards, and his gaze seems unable to look anywhere but your eyes.

Levi isn’t great with words, you’ve known so for so long already, so when he stays quiet, your hand finds a cold cheek. He leans in your touch, even though you can see that he tries to restrain himself from doing so, and the look on his face just breaks your heart.

Your smile fades, expression morphing into sad worry.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

My love. Your nickname to him will forever have him feeling as if he’s hearing it for the first time.

You think it’s the expedition, just like it is for all of you. He usually gets cranky before expeditions, giving you all those instructions here and there, pulling you away for some extra training even, but this is new.

The more he trains you the less worried he is about you in expeditions as you slowly but surely become another version of him minust all the extra crack, but the worry you see in his expression right now isn’t the kind of worry you’re used to before marching to your death.

Maybe something happened, something shifted, made his anxiety skyrocket, but you’ll never know unless he tells you.

Even as you hold each other like this, he doesn’t think he is loving you enough. He thinks you deserve the world, the sun, the stars, everything that shines just the way you do, everything that he is not.

You’re so good. Your love for him is way more than he deserves.

Levi shuts his eyes before they can get teary, and you’re immediately pulling him in your embrace. With a hand in his hair and the other going up and down his back soothingly, you hold him as he should be held, with all the love and care you can provide.

His arms tighten around you so much that you hear a vertebrae or two cracking, but you never let out your discomfort. You massage his scalp as he nuzzles your neck, and his breath is still shaky.

You’ve barely ever seen Levi like this.

“I’m here,” You gently tell him. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m so sorry.” His muffled words barely make it to your ear.

“What are you apologizing for?” You whisper softly, lips brushing against the top of his ear. “There’s nothing to apologize about, my love.”

There is. He thinks. There are plenty.

“Can I touch you?” His voice is small, yet dark and husky.

It warms your heart that he still always asks for that when he’s feeling down, to touch you, to feel your skin against his. It grounds him, he’s told you. Makes you feel more real.

You nod against his head and pull back to help him unbutton the shirt that lies underneath the green coat. He pulls it out of your pants, unties the binder tied tightly around your chest, and just pulls you back into your previous position again.

His lips lightly graze the skin of his neck, you fight the urge to pull away from the ticklish spot, but you’re soon distracted by the hands that roam your upper body. His touch is intimate, as if he is massaging.

Fingers trail from your stomach, to your waist, then up your back until he lovingly presses you to him by your nape with a firmer grip.

You let him do everything he pleases, letting your own eyes close as you rest your temple on the side of his head, fingers forever sinking in the raven hair. He plants a light kiss to where your shoulder meets your neck.

“You’re too good.” You hear him muffle. The feather-light touch of his fingers running down your middle soon turns into his whole hand. It trails down from your neck, between your breasts, down your diaphragm and onto your side until he settles right before your belt, and his touch turns firmer here. “Always too good for me.”

You pull away just enough to look him in the eye. Your hand returns to his cheek, and this time, you find dazed steel staring back at you, as if drunk on your touch.

What the hell could’ve happened to have him end up like this?

You pull him in for a chaste kiss, but the hand on your nape brings you closer, grip filled with need and something else, something you can’t tell, something that seems to be bubbling over him. You're pressed flush against him, bodies soon molding into one, and maybe Levi forgets his strength when he holds you like this because you’re almost out of breath.

You take matters in your own hands, then, bringing your hands up to his shoulders and you begin to massage, earning a breathy moan from the man underneath you. His grip loosens on your nape when you massage a knot away in his, and you’re given your chance to breathe when he soon relaxes enough.

You rest your forehead against his, panting slightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your very soul could shatter at the look in his eyes, then. Because he looks up, eyes ever so glossy and oh so damn sad, desperate, scared you dare say. He tries to whisper something but it comes out incoherent, and you don’t ask him to repeat it when he doesn’t. A calloused hand falls from your nape to hold your cheek, mirroring your very position, and he pulls you in again.

It is gentler this time, slower. Your hands still massage every possible tight muscle you find, deliciously swallowing the pretty sounds he produces from the sensation.

Something clicks, then.

You pull back, his hands still roam your upper body. Levi’s lips try to chase after yours but they attach to the corner of his lips instead, to his cheek, down to line his jaw, and down to his neck. You move slow, make every kiss count, make sure that he feels your intention, make sure he feels loved.

That’s a difficult task, Levi never had anyone that makes him feel this way until you came along, and the unfamiliarity of the feeling always sends him close to tears.

There’s nothing lustful laying behind either your intentions. You kiss his scarred skin like it’s the last thing you can give him. You unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt and let your hand feel the toned muscles of his chest as you kiss away the pain, feeling his adam’s apple struggle where your lips land.

A hand slips in his hair, he tilts his head back.

“I love you so much,” You tell him, your lips brushing his skin. “So, so much, Levi. I can barely verbalise it.” Your head raises to hover above his, your free hand gently caressing where his skin is still wet with your kisses. The hand in his hair brushes it out of his face so you can take a clearer look, and it’s fucked up how you feel your own eyes water. “You’ll never know how much you really mean to me.”

“I don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve the world,” You reply instantly, teary eyes pouring emotions into his. “Walls, you deserve everything good this universe has to offer, Levi.”

The words tick him off. He tries to hide his face, tries to look away from you as he finally begins to break, but your hold is firm when you hold him still.

“I could write endless poems about every little quirk you have. About the color of your eyes. About every scar I've traced on your body, all the way down to the way you hold your damn ridiculous tea cups. I love you so much, Levi, I can barely contain it.”

A silent tear escapes the corner of his eye, and you never hesitate to kiss it as it lands down to his cheekbone. You linger there, feeling rough hands softly trace the line between your shoulder blades. You don’t notice that your own tears have been released until his thumb wipes under your eye, returning the favor.

“I wish I could love like you,” He whispers.

“Your love is already more than enough.”

night air

levi x reader

summary: you’ve been seeing Levi for a long time but you’ve grown tired of not knowing how he feels

tags: angst but it’s rewarded

———————————————————————

the night air was crisp on your skin. thankfully you thought to drag the quilt off of Levi’s bed on your way out the window.

this was your favorite spot, the shingled roof right outside of Levi’s chamber window had the best view of the night sky.

he’s probably looking for you right about now but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

god.

you were just to tired of playing this game with him, never knowing what he is thinking or how he feels. you knew he had his reasons to keep his guard up, but none of his reasons had anything to do with you.

your done. you have officially given up on Levi.

as soon as you concluded that thought a throat clears behind you,

“ahem.. so this is where you’ve been hiding out, i should have known”

you don’t bother turning to face him.

you know exactly who it is, you would recognize that voice anywhere.. that voice you have grown to love so much.

a puzzled look settles on Levi’s face as he climbs out the window to take a seat next to you.

“don’t.”

“don’t what?” he says as he takes a seat next to you.

you finally turn to face him, just seeing that familiar stoic gaze almost makes you falter over your words.

“just… i just don’t want to see you right now” wrapping your arms around your knees bringing them to your chest to feel a sense of security.

“you do know that you broke into my room and stole my quilt right”

“yes well i can’t get this view anywhere else” you say as you lay your chin on top of your knees refusing to meet his hard gaze

“your angry with me” he says flatly trying to decipher the look on your face

“so perceptive” you said already having grown tired of the conversation

“tch. alright” he says as he quickly stands dragging you up with him.

“hey! what the fuck!” you say as he drags you back in through his bedroom window

swiftly bringing you to the bed setting you on the edge and kneeling between your legs.

why does he look so worried? you think.

you’ve never seen his face contort into such a position.

“tell me.”

“what?”

“tell me why you are angry” he says as he places his palms on top of your knees.

you take a quick breath in, not expecting this reaction out of him.

his brows furrow waiting for your response.

“i’m tired Levi, fuck i’m so tired. i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep going through my days not knowing what we are, or how you even feel about me” you say as the moonlight pours in through the window. you feel tears welling up behind your eyes. you quickly close your eyes trying to prevent them from falling.

a knowing look settles on Levi’s face as he quickly stands gathering your hands in his. you finally look up at him with tear filled vison.

Levi let’s out a strangled breath his next words are going to be difficult to get out.

“im sorry, fuck. i am such an idiot”

your tear filled gaze still on him as he looks down at his hands tangled with yours.

“i’m bad with words, but that’s no excuse. i’m sorry i should have told you a long time ago how i feel.”

he lets out another strangled breath as he runs his thumb over your knuckles.

“i uh.. we’ll i love you”

the words fell over you so quickly you had no time to understand their meaning.

you continue to stare at Levi as your tears finally fall.

“fuck. i love you. i love you.” he says as he releases your hands to cup your face.

you notice a single tear falling onto Levi’s cheek as he quickly gathers you up in his arms.

you finally understand. he loves you too.

both your your lips meet in a desperate attempt to make up for the lost time.

———————————————————————

feedback is appreciated 🤍

art credit: i searched but could not find the artist// pretend that’s you in the pic xx

what is it with having to work shit?? i don’t like it.

if levi were real i wouldn’t have to work, he would be the provider and i would be the house cat

working man levi headcannons

levi is definitely a suit

he probably works in finance or some sort of high level job that requires a suit to be worn everyday

his office is very plain, the color palette is strictly black and white with the exception of the photo of the two of you together at the christmas market last year that sits right next to his desktop.

levi tries not to get distracted from his work but his cute little housewife is always sending him updates of her day. levi can’t even pretend to be annoyed by your texts, he secretly looks forward to them. your fun little texts are what get him through his long boring days at work.

levi tried not to chuckle in the middle of his meeting when you sent him a picture of yourself cleaning the bathroom wearing his signature white bandana that he wears exclusively on cleaning days, with an attached text saying, “i look just like you, mr. clean 😏”

levi shifted in his seat, wondering why a playful picture of his wife cleaning made his cock twitch in his slacks.

levi made it a point to rush home and fuck you in the freshly cleaned shower.

“my sweet little housewife.” he would say, as he lifted your body to straddle his waist, pounding you on the steaming shower wall

a/n: been daydreaming about being levi’s housewife a lot lately oop

masterlist

“What’s that for?” Levi’s brow furrows as he watches you swirl your teaspoon in the little jar before you, only to pull it back with long, syrupy strands drizzling from the end. The candlelight catches in the flow: shiny and translucent as it drips down slowly to pool back in its jar again.

“It’s honey,” you explain with a light laugh, dipping the spoon down to repeat the same satisfying motion again.

“Well, what’s it made of?” The man’s distrust is plain in his tone, his eyes narrowing as he glares at the indulgence that you’d picked up on a visit into town earlier that day.

“It comes from bees,” you say, angling the spoon over the steaming cup of tea to your left—Levi's cup—to which you're intent on adding a teaspoon's worth of honey. But you suddenly find your effort halted— Levi’s hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, keeping it frozen in place as another long rivulet of the viscous, amber syrup sinks back into the open jar below.

You peek at Levi with a curious gaze, your head tilting ever so slightly to the side in confusion.

His lips part.

“It’s made of bees?” 

He sounds positively horrified. 

You almost snort at the revolted look on his face, shaking your head and trying not to get distracted by how easily his large, calloused hand circles the circumference of your wrist. 

“No, no.” You swallow down the laugh you feel bubbling from your stomach up to your throat, knowing it will only irritate him more if you let it free. “It’s made by bees—harvested from their hives. It’s sweet.”

“Why would I want my tea to taste sweet?” he asks gruffly, as though the suggestion is the most preposterous thing he’s ever heard. “I want my tea to taste like tea.”

“But it’s nice.” You make an earnest attempt to reason with him, a lightly teasing smile playing at the corners of your mouth which you fight uselessly to keep at bay.

“It sounds repulsive.”

This time, you really can’t suppress your laughter at his staunchly uncooperative tone.

You attempt to pry your hand from his grip, pressing against his hold to lean closer to the still-steaming cup of tea waiting for your spoon, but his grip refuses to slacken even through your efforts. His grasp is firm and unyielding, but not painful—and is still far from the strength you know he’s capable of.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t falter.

Instead, he tilts your hand upwards in response to your struggle, and you watch helplessly as the honey begins to inch down the neck of the spoon—creeping closer to your fingertips with every passing second.

“It’s a treat,” you argue with him petulantly while still endeavouring to free your hand, twisting it this way and that in his hold, though the jostling serves only to make the honey drip towards your fingers faster.

“It’s unnecessary, and frankly an insult to the tea,” he bites back with an equal insistence, his tone verging more and more towards genuine offence on the tea’s behalf with every syllable. 

Finally, inevitably, you feel the honey meet the tips of your fingers: a sticky, unpleasant sensation. You stop fighting, dropping the spoon back into the jar of honey with a plop, and watch how the edges of the utensil sink into the thick liquid as though being slowly swallowed whole.

“You made a mess,” he chides you with a familiar reproachful tch.

He watches as you survey the residue left on your skin, his upper lip curling back in distaste when you spread your fingers to let the viscid strands stretch and break between them.

“Besides, if I wanted something sweet I—mmph!” Levi’s impending lecture is cut short as your fingers press against his mouth, your index and middle digit slipping unbidden between his lips as they part in speech. Thoroughly blindsided by the intrusion, his jaw goes slack—allowing you to run the pads of your sticky fingers over the surface of his warm, wet tongue. 

You watch raptly as his startled eyes never stray from yours—not as you slowly withdraw your fingers, running them gently over his pink lips, nor when you lift your hand towards yourself and slide the very fingers that had just been in his mouth into your own. Only once you’re satisfied that no lingering traces of the honey remain on your skin do you pull your fingers back, smacking your lips together to savour the pleasant, saccharine taste left behind.

“Hm,” you hum thoughtfully, finally breaking your prolonged eye-contact to inspect the tips of your fingers for anything you may have missed. “Tastes sweet.”

“You’re disgusting,” Levi chokes out an entirely unconvincing jab, clearing his throat roughly. 

You glance back towards his face, making absolutely no effort to conceal your provocative grin. You raise your hand to your lips once more, tongue flicking out to catch the last bit of honey you’d overlooked. His eyes follow your every movement with a sort of spellbound attention.

“And you’re blushing, Captain.”

Drabble: Levi x reader

Prompt: Both of them injured, and them waking up beside each other

Genre: Fluff, angst, comfort (wow, not surprised)

A/N: Depressed + Levi deprived = this

Thumping behind your ears woke you up suddenly, the rumbling of the cart jolti by you around. The bright blue sky above you blinded you, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. Hooves thundered nearby, trailing next to the cart you were being carried in.

The thin sheet across your body helped the warmth cling to you, pain shooting through your body. Stains of red down the sheet caught your attention, noticing the parallels between where you were in pain and the blotches.

Turning your head to the side, you saw him. His eyes were halflidded, blinding slowly fight away the pain coursing through his own body. He lay on his back like you, wrapped in bandages. You wished you could remember what happened but your mind was fuzzy.

Levi coughed beside you, wheezing as he took in a breath.

“Levi?” You whispered, “What happened?”

The man turned his head towards you, furrowing your eyebrows at you. He lifted a hand to place on your head, gently ruffling your hair.

“Hey, brat,” he left his hand resting on your head, “You got us in this mess to begin with.”

“It-it hurts,” you winced as the cart bounced, presumably over a rock.

Levi shifted to get closer to you, cursing under his breath at his own aching body, “I know, it sucks. Keep those eyes of yours open.”

You nodded, holding eye contact with Levi. The hand atop of your head secured you as the cart bounced across the terrain back to the walls. His gaze made you feel safe but the thought of his potential scolding caused you to feel ashamed.

Immediately afflicting the blame on you only made you feel worse, and you wished Levi could see that.

“Levi...” you began.

“What?”

“Are you going to yell at me when we get back?”

“Probably, you almost getting us both killed wasn’t too smart. But, I know you’ll need some attention. Your injuries are worse than mine.”

You tried nodding but your head thumped painfully. Levi noticed the wince you tried to hide and ran his thumb up your forehead.

“Don’t move, I know it hurts,” he sighed.

He knew that literally anyone could be seeing him like this, but he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was you getting the proper treatment. You certainly knew - especially because he lay injured beside you - that he went completely out of his way to save you.

Maybe you were too delirious to notice before, but the rhythmic stroking of Levi’s thumb across your forehead burnt into your skin. Never before had he been this close to you or expressed such worry for you.

Before this, you always thought you were another on of his cadets. Now, you felt slightly special.

Maybe you were something special to him.