➤• @levionlyyours ➤• Masterlist ➤• Hi! I'm the founder and admin of the Levi Ackerman network! I've been writing for about 11 years now and only recently stepped into writing for Levi "full-time." I'm happy to create this community where we can all share our love for humanity's strongest shortie!

➤• @inkedwhimsee ➤• Masterlist ➤• Hi, I'm Sarah!✨ I'm 33, currently writing The Quiet After The World Fell trilogy centered around Post-Rumbling!Levi and my OFC, Dahlia Bodea. I occasionally write one-shots of Levi x Reader, either in canon or a modern AU. I also create digital and traditional fanart of Levi :)

➤• @levislolita ➤• Masterlist ➤• hi friends 🫶🏻 you can call me tay. she/her, oc fanatic, the one who will always "yes and--" your ideas. corporate girly by day, fanfic writer by night. i bring the big-sister vibe to the function, so if you ever want advice or a shoulder to cry on, i gotchu babe.

➤• @devileyeswriting ➤• Masterlist ➤• Hello :) you can call me Essie! I'm a multifandom writer for AOT, Bleach, Stardew Valley, and JJK. Longfic Canon/OC is my bread and butter, but I've been breaking into the Canon (especially Levi!!) / Reader realm as of April 2026.

➤• @dont-rainonme ➤• Masterlist ➤• Hi, I’m Rain!! I’m an engineering & architecture student in my 20s and I’ve loved/written/read fanfiction for as long as I can remember! I only recently revived my tumblr after five years of nothing and similarly only started posting my writing for Levi again so a lot of this is still new to me LMAO My main platform for a while was AO3, but I’d love to use tumblr more and connect with other Levi writers/artists — the talent I’ve seen so far has been nothing short of incredible! Currently, I’m working on a rewrite of a Levi/Reader longfic I started a couple years ago which will be the main content of my blog (for now!), but I’ve got a whole bank of ideas that I’d love to explore in the future. I’m always down for a good chat, so please don’t hesitate to reach out :)

➤• @ladyofpandemonium ➤• Masterlist ➤• Hi! It's Yana ^^ I started my blog on AOT one-shots ages ago, took a very long hiatus, and have recently been dipping my toes into longer fics and coming back to writing. Looking forward to making some new friends and such here :)

➤• @niki-yoshhhhh ➤• Masterlist ➤• Hello! I started writing fics in January after rewatching AOT in December last year, and I didn’t expect that I’d enjoy it, so here I am, just continuing to write more Levi fics :D

➤• @sixpennydame ➤• Masterlist ➤• Your Angst Auntie, giving you the feels for Levi Ackerman since 2023.

➤• @lordalastar ➤• Masterlist ➤• You can call me either Alex or Sage. I write for a few different fandoms but Levi has been a constant favorite and I love to write for him, from AUs to canonverse, I enjoy it all.

➤• @bumblebeeonthistle ➤• Masterlist ➤• Hey all, you can call me Bee<3 Avid fanfic writer and reader by night, med student by day. I mostly write Levi/Reader content, both longfics, one-shots, and headcanons. I also draw fanart, play the violin, and I love making playlists for my fav characters and fics. Excited to be here!

➤• @aphroditaeon ➤• Masterlist ➤• Forever obsessed with Levi Ackerman 💖

➤• @amywritesthings ➤• Masterlist ➤• Hi! I'm Amy (33, she/her) and I've been writing fic since 2022. I'm a multi fandom author, but most of my works are based around AOT.

➤• @littlerequiem ➤• Masterlist ➤• Hi I'm Flo & I've been writing for Levi since 2021. I love to write stories centering around Big Feelings, nature, and fantasy. Happy to be there :))

➤• @starfallenlevi ➤• Masterlist ➤• I’m a new writer who loves art, music and poetry. I’m also an anime multifandom but I’ll be mainly writing for Levi Ackerman.

The hotel door barely closes before Levi has you against it.

The desperation has been simmering inside him since morning, since the first look, since the vows and the rings and the ridiculous avalanche of photographs. Since the champagne glasses clinking and the slow dance where his hand stayed low on your back while the entire room around you disappeared until it was only the two of you left in it.

Now, you’re surrounded by quiet. The city outside is all blurred gold and silver through sheer curtains. Somewhere below, you hear distant traffic, finally dying down in the night. The suite carries a scent of flowers and the perfume you dabbed behind your ears twelve hours ago.

Levi doesn’t seem to notice any of it. His hand is already at the back of your neck, fingers slipping into your hair, thumb pressing just beneath your ear as he drags you into a kiss so consuming that your breath leaves you in a started sound against his mouth. It’s the same urgency from the altar—worse, maybe, now that he doesn’t have an audience.

The officiant had barely managed to say, “You may now—” before Levi’s hand had gone to your jaw and his mouth had found yours. You can still remember the laughter from the guests and how his ears had gone faintly red afterward. He had muttered, “Took too long,” against your lips before turning to face everyone with his usual composed expression.

But there’s nothing composed about him now. His mouth moves against yours deep and hungry, tasting of champagne. His other hand braces on the door near your shoulder, caging you in. You feel the trembling of his self-control, the careful line he walks between need and respect for you. He’s always touched you like that. Desire is easy, but trust is more important.

You clutch at his suit jacket, fingers dragging over the lapels. He makes a low sound in his throat when you tug him closer. The kiss turns slower for a moment, his tongue brushing yours. Heat unfurls through you so quickly it almost brings you to your knees. You’ve spent the entire day being admired, congratulated, toasted, photographed, hugged, kissed on the cheek by relatives and friends, and all the while Levi had kept looking at you like he was waiting to get you in a room alone. His patience apparently ended in the hallway.

“Levi,” you breathe when he lets your mouth go just enough for air. He rests his forehead against yours. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, a stray lock of black hair fallen out of place over his eyebrow ridge. He looks immaculate and undone at the same time, his tie slightly loosened and the collar of his white dress shirt misaligned. 

“My wife,” he says quietly. The words strike you right through the gut. He hears your breath catch and he strokes his thumb along the side of your neck, making your knees wobble just slightly. 

He thinks it again, because he can. Wife. Mine. He doesn’t think of you like he owns you—it’s far from that. He’s spent so much of his life trying to control everything that he never let himself be vulnerable, but then you showed up, and somehow he trusted you enough to place his heart in your hands and trusted you not to drop it. And today, you’d held his hands in front of everyone you loved and promised him a life with you forever. He still doesn’t know how to deal with it all.

You grab his tie. His eyebrows lift slightly, but the corner of his mouth turns upward with unmistakable glee as you use it to pull him forward again. The next kiss is messier, filled with laughter when your teeth catch his lower lip and he exhales sharply through his nose.

“Someone’s impatient,” he murmurs.

“You’re the one who pinned me against the door.”

“Mhm.”

“You didn’t even make it three seconds.”

“I made it through the reception,” he says. “That deserves some praise, mm?”

You laugh against his mouth. His expression eases for a second before desire claims it again. You move your hands quickly to push his suit jacket off his shoulders. He lets you strip it from him, arms moving cooperatively, though his gaze remains fixed on your face. You manage to throw the jacket over the back of a chair by the door. Even like this, you know his eyes would twitch if there were any sign of disorder. You know him too well to not aim properly. He notices and his mouth twitches.

“Good girl,” he says under his breath.

The praise is almost absentminded, and it still makes you shiver. You fumble while trying to undo his tie. Levi sees the effect it has on you and can’t help the small smile that appears. You finally manage to slip his tie free and toss it with less care than the jacket. He glances at it on the floor, then looks back at you.

“That was silk.”

“You can punish me later.”

Levi lets out a low scoff. You stop for a second to look around the suite, at the king sized bed, the bottle of champagne waiting untouched in a silver bucket, the rose petals scattered by hotel staff across the sheets in a heart shape that Levi had severely judged upon entry for a half-second before he decided you were more important. It all still feels so surreal.

Levi follows your hands when you reach for his shirt buttons. He lets you work, one button, then another, exposing his throat, then his collarbone, then the lean muscle of his chest. The ring on his fingers catches in the light as he reaches behind you, searching for the first fastening of your gown. His hands are careful as he turns you gently by the hips.

“Don’t move too much,” he says.

You face the mirror mounted beside the closet and watch him behind you. The sight nearly steals the breath you only just recovered: Levi in his half-open dress shirt, black hair mussed from your hands, expression focused as he looks at the back of your gown.

“You’re very serious about this,” you tease.

“It cost more than my first car.”

“Your dad gave you your first car.”

“Then more than the car I would’ve bought.”

“So you remember the price?” You try to hide your smile, biting it back by clenching your inner cheek between your teeth.

“I remember anything that stresses you out.” He remembers you crying once over alterations, exhausted and overwhelmed, standing in your apartment while he knelt to pin a hem he absolutely did not know how to pin, scowling at a YouTube tutorial and threatening your seamstress friend under his breath. He remembers because you cared, and Levi always cares about the things you care about.

He finds the hidden closure and works it open. You shiver and his knuckles brush the bare skin between your shoulder blades. The zipper lowers. He doesn’t want to rush this. He sees the faint line where the bones of your dress have pressed against you all day.

Levi’s mind goes quiet for a moment. He’s seen you half-asleep, furious, sick, laughing so hard you barely make any noise, wearing old shirts, wearing nothing at all. He’s seen you in the low kitchen light and in the harsh morning sun and blue midnight shadow. He’s desired you in all of it. But this—his hands easing you out of the dress you wore to marry him, the ring on your finger flashing as you hold the bodice to your chest—does something to his composure that almost feels dangerous.

How did he get here? How did he end up trusted with this much beauty?

The zipper reaches its end. “Arms,” he says. You obey, raising them. He helps guide the dress off. His fingers brush your sides, your waist, your thighs as the gown falls to your feet. You step out of it and Levi gathers it, ignoring you standing before him in bridal lingerie and stocking because apparently preserving the dress is more important. You lean back against the wall, biting your lip as you watch him.

“You’re really going to hang it up before touching me?” you half-tease, only mildly offended.

“Yes,” he says.

“Levi.”

He looks at you then, his gaze moving over you once, taking in your done-up hair and the flush already spreading across your chest and the delicate lingerie chosen with him in mind.

“Don’t say my name like that unless you want the dress wrinkled,” he warns.

You shut up. He holds your stare for another second, then carefully hangs up the dress on the padded hanger the hotel prepared. He handles the gown with care, smoothing it and checking that nothing is twisted. 

He turns back and his hands settle on your waist. You push off his shirt at least, sliding it down until it joins the jacket on the chair. You kiss his chest, right over his heart, and feel it beating faster than you expected.

“Careful,” he mutters. “You’re gonna make me forget we should shower.”

You look up, laughing. “You’re silly.”

“No, I’m just hygienic.”

You undo his belt, then his pants, and he lets you, watching as your fingers move and your breathing changes. He steps out of his clothes once you push them down, then he folds them over the chair. You remove the last pieces of your bridal set. He doesn’t help this time, instead opting to watch, eyes tracing every newly revealed inch.

Beautiful isn’t the right word. It’s too simple and too small. He can’t think of something worthy of the woman standing in front of him wearing his ring.

“Say something,” you whisper.

His eyes flick back up to your face. “If I start, we’re not making it to the shower.”

You enter the bathroom, which is all marble and glass. The shower is large enough for two—convenient for you both. Steam gathers quickly when you turn it on, fogging the mirrors. He tests the temperature before letting you under the water.

The shower is more tender than you expected. Water flattens his hair over his forehead until he pushes it back with one hand. Droplets cling to his lashes. He looks almost younger like this. You reach for the shampoo, but he takes it from you.

“Turn around,” he says.

You do, and he works his fingers into your hair. You close your eyes as he massages your scalp. The sensation is so soothing after the long day that you nearly sway back into him. He steadies you with a hand at your shoulder.

“Tired?” he asks.

“A little,” you mumble.

He knows that means more than a little. He feels it in the way the tension in your body disappears under his touch, the adrenaline finally wearing off. Something almost protective rises in him. He wants you desperate and shaking, yes, but he also wants you cared for and unburdened. 

You trade places beneath the water so you can wash his hair. He complains once about getting soap near his eyes, but he falls silent when you comb your fingers through his hair. His eyes half close. He leans into your touch slightly before correcting himself.

“I saw that,” you smile.

“Saw what?” 

“You enjoy being pampered.”

“Baseless accusation.”

“Sure.”

His mouth curves faintly. “You’re mouthy.”

“You married me.”

“I did.

The water runs between you, but neither of you reaches where the other most wants to be touched. Hands stay at the shoulders, hair, arms, and backs. Levi scrubs at a smudge of mascara beneath your eye with his thumb. 

He gazes at you affectionately. He’s never believed in fate. Fate is a word people use carelessly. He believes in choices. He chose you every day long before he put a ring on your finger, and he will choose you tomorrow when the flower arrangements are gone and the wedding dress is packed away, when there are dishes in the sink and bills on the counter and your shoes left exactly where he told you not to leave them. He’ll choose you when you’re difficult, when he’s worse, when life breaks or asks too much.

Levi wraps you in one of the hotel’s towels first, rubbing your arms and body briskly. Then he dries himself while you watch, warmth pooling low in your belly again. His skin is still damp as he drags the towel over his hair. When he catches you staring, he stops.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you say.

“That look isn’t nothing.”

“You’re my husband. I can look.”

Oh—he’s not going to get used to that word for a long time. He likes it too much from your mouth. He steps closer, dropping the towel onto the counter rather than the floor. 

“Say it again,” he says.

Your breath hitches at his tone. “My husband,” you say.

Levi kisses you. Slowly at first, then he walks you backward out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Your towel loosens, and his hand finds the knot to tug it free, letting the fabric fall away before he pulls back to look at you. You resist the urge to cover yourself. There’s no reason to hide from him, but still, being looked at by Levi feels more exposing than being touched. 

“Come here,” he says. He draws you down onto the bed with him, ignoring the rose petals now crushed beneath your knees. You notice and a laugh slips out. He rolls his eyes. “Tch… tacky.”

Your laugh becomes a gasp when he rolls you onto your back and follows, bracing himself above you. His face hovers close, eyes searching yours for the subtle confirmations he always seeks when neither of you says the word aloud. You lift your hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“I’m okay,” you whisper.

“I know.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

He presses his mouth to the inside of your wrist, right beneath your pulse. “Because I can.”

He kisses you again. Finally, there are no guests, no photographers calling his name, no first dance, no cutting the cake, no politeness. There’s only his bare skin against yours. His mouth opens over yours. Your fingers slide into his hair; he makes a quiet sound when you tug, one of both approval and warning. You arch beneath him. His body responds, hips pressing down once before he pulls himself back. He breaks the kiss and lowers his mouth to your jaw, then your throat, then the sensitive place beneath your ear.

“Levi,” you breathe.

“I know,” he says against your skin.

He moves lower, lips tracing your neck, your collarbone, the upper curve of your chest. His hands frame your ribs, thumbs stroking beneath your breasts before his mouth follows. Every brush of his tongue paired with every kiss feels like another vow being made. You’re his to love, his to keep safe, his to ruin when you ask for it. He closes his mouth over one nipple, and the heat of it pulls a soft moan from you.

He hums, and the vibration makes your back arch. His hand moves to your other breast, palm warm, fingers teasing your nipple until your breath comes unevenly. You already feel how he keeps himself from grinding into you, and you can see it through the small furrow between his brows when he lifts his head to look at you.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

Your face warms. “You’ve said that today.”

“Not enough.”

Your laugh turns shaky when he slides his hand down your stomach. The ring on his hand glints as it presses cold against your skin. His gaze follows it, and his expression darkens.

“My wife,” he murmurs again, more to himself than to you. You press your thighs together. Levi notices and he flicks his eyes up to yours. “That does something to you, doesn’t it?”

You swallow. “Maybe.” You try to hold his stare, but his hand is drifting lower, tracing the crease where your thigh meets your hip. 

He lowers himself between your legs, kissing the inside of one thigh, then the other. The first brush of his lips against your pussy makes your breath hitch. He takes his time, infuriatingly patient now that you’re the one trembling. His hands slide beneath your thighs, opening you to him. The air feels cold against your wet heat.

Levi looks at you. Too closely. His jaw tightens; his breath leaves him slowly. He thinks of the ceremony, of your hand in his, of the way your voice wavered on one specific vow. He thinks of you smiling at him over the rim of a champagne glass, eyes bright with both exhaustion and joy. He thinks of every moment he’s wanted to drag you away from the noise and press his mouth exactly here.

“Levi,” you say, suddenly shy under his attention.

“Don’t hide from me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re trying.”

You twist your fingers in the sheets. “You’re staring.”

“I am.” He kisses the inside of your thigh again, closer to your heat this time. “I’m lucky.” You blink down at him. His mouth brushes higher. “Don’t look at me like that. I know exactly what I said.”

“You don’t usually say things like that.”

“I think them.” He pauses, then says, “All the damn time.”

Then he dives in between your legs. The first stroke of his tongue pulls a sharp cry from your throat, a broken “Ahh—” that makes his fingers grip your thighs harder. He doesn’t rush—he’s never been careless with things like this. He moves his tongue slowly at first, parting you, tasting you, learning what exact pressure makes your hips lift and what angle makes your fingers fly into his hair.

“Oh—oh, god, Levi,” you whine.

He groans against you and the vibration rolls through your body. He closes his eyes for a moment, savoring more than your taste. He’s savoring the privilege of this. The intimacy. The fact that you’re in his bed on your wedding night with his ring on your hand and his name on your tongue.

“Good,” he murmurs, lips brushing your clit. “Let me hear you.”

You make a small sound when he licks you again, tongue flattening before circling your clit. Your hips twitch. He holds you down with one forearm across your lower stomach, enough to keep you from squirming away. 

He knows your body. He knows when to tease and when teasing will make you want to kick him. Tonight, he’s torn between indulgence and impatience, between wanting to draw it out until you’re sobbing his name and needing to make you cum because he’s already waited too long. His fingers join his mouth, sliding through your slickness before he presses one inside you slowly. Your head tips back into the pillow.

“Nnh—Levi.”

He watches your face from between your thighs. “That’s it.”

The praise sends heat spiraling through you. His finger curls, finding your g-spot immediately. Your thighs try to close around his head, and he lets them, briefly, before he nudges them open again.

“None of that,” he says.

“I can’t help it,” you whine.

“You can.”

He lowers his mouth again before you can answer, and the argument dissolves into a moan. His tongue works your clit in a devastating rhythm while his finger twists inside you, slow and deep, then joined by a second when your body yields. The stretch makes you gasp, hips rolling despite his hold. Levi focuses on you, and only you. He focuses on the sounds you make, the slickness around his fingers, your abdomen tensing beneath his forearm, your hands gripping his hair harder when he presses just the right spot. Pride runs through him. 

You look down at him, and the sight almost pushes you over the edge. Levi’s mouth is wet from you, his cheeks faintly flushed, his eyes fixed on you with a hunger that feels like it could split the earth open. You see the need banked behind discipline. It makes you feel powerful and cherished at the same time.

“Levi—”

“Say it.”

You know what he wants. The thought alone makes your walls clench around his fingers. “My husband.”

His eyes darken. “Again. Fuck, say it again.”

“My h-husband—”

He groans, then seals his mouth over your clit and sucks hard, flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub. Pleasure punches through you. Your back bows off the bed, a cry tearing free as his fingers curl and pump with more rigor, pressing into that sensitive spot inside you while his tongue flicks and sucks in relentless alternation. Your vision blurs at the edges. 

“Ah—Levi, Levi, I’m—mmh, I’m close—”

“I know,” he says, not lifting away. “Cum for me.”

Your fingers tighten in his hair. He takes it, the sting of it making his lashes flutter as he drives you higher. He keeps you exactly where he wants you, balanced on the edge, his mouth hot against you, his fingers working deep until your thighs begin to tremble around him. The pressure builds fast, then faster, gathering tight until you can barely breathe through it. Your thoughts scatter. Your body strains beneath his hold, chasing and resisting the intensity at the same time.

“Levi—ahh, fuck—” you moan.

“Good girl,” he groans into you. “That’s my wife. Let go.”

You cum with a broken cry, pleasure surging through you in waves that make your hips buck against his mouth. Levi holds you there and works you through it, tongue gentling only when you begin to melt. Your thighs shake around his shoulders, and your moan turns into a series of helpless little sounds. His fingers slow inside you but don’t leave, coaxing every last shake from your body.

He watches you the whole time. He watches the way your face breaks in pleasure, the way your lips part, the way your hand flattens over the sheet and your ring catches in the lamplight. He did that. He gets to do that for the rest of his life.

When you finally melt into the bed, he presses one last soft kiss to the inside of your thigh before withdrawing his fingers carefully. You whimper at the loss, overstimulated and dazed. Levi rises over you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but it is. He looks over you, assessing you.

“You with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Barely.”

A faint smile touches his mouth. His hand slides over your hip and up the curve of your waist. You can feel the slight roughness of his fingertips, the callouses from years of work. “You’re shaking,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you whisper.

He dips to kiss the corner of your mouth. His lips linger there for a moment, then he kisses you properly, letting you taste yourself on him. Your stomach twists with renewed pleasure. You wind your arms tight around his shoulders. He lowers his body carefully over yours. His hard length rests against your thigh, impossible to ignore, but he holds himself back—even though his eyes, dark with need, betray him.

For a moment, he just looks at you, and there’s so much in his eyes that your throat tightens. Hunger, yes. Desire full enough to make him clench his jaw. But beneath it is a sort of wonder and devotion. A fierce awe that he would never allow anyone else to witness.

“You’re too damn beautiful,” he says, lowering his mouth to your neck, kissing beneath your jaw. “Been staring at you all day like an idiot.”

“You hid it pretty well,” you say.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did.”

His lips brush your pulse. “Then you weren’t paying attention.”

You slide your fingers over his undercut, and he makes a small sound when your nails graze the short hairs. It’s a swallowed sound, but you feel it through his chest. He shifts between your thighs, guiding them around his hips. You feel him align his cock with your entrance. He pauses, forehead resting near your temple, one hand braces beside your head.

“Look at me,” he says.

You do. His face is close enough that you can see the silver shine of his irises and the faint pink at the tips of his ears. He holds your gaze as he slowly slides into you. The stretch steals your breath. Your lips part on a soft, broken sound. Levi’s expression tightens with the effort of keeping himself controlled. He watches every flicker of your face, every minute shift of discomfort and pleasure, stopping when you grip his shoulder.

“Breathe,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your cheek. “That’s it. I’ve got you.”

Your body adjusts around him, taking him inch by inch. Your walls are still sensitive from his mouth and fingers. You’re still slightly trembling from the orgasm he wrung out of you. He gives you time, even though you feel the restraint fraying in him. His abdomen is taut against yours. His jaw flexes. His breath comes slower than usual. It all tells you he’s holding himself on a very short leash.

Levi thinks he might lose his mind. You’re impossibly warm around him, your body welcoming him. This isn’t the first time he’s been inside you, but tonight is different. He feels your ring against his skin when you grip his shoulder. The vows from earlier echo in his head beneath the sound of your breathing.

His. Yours. Chosen, promised, and bound together.

He lowers himself further, sinking into you, and your head presses back into the pillow. You hiss out his name, and the sound nearly breaks him. “Easy,” he says, though the word is as much for himself as it is for you. “I’m right here.”

When he’s fully inside you, he stills completely. He closes his eyes for a moment, his breath leaving him in a little exhale against your cheek. You feel the wave of barely restrained pleasure pass through his body. You cup the back of his neck and pull him closer, and he lets you. More than lets you—he goes willingly, burying his face in the curve of your neck. His mouth presses there, not quite a kiss at first. Just contact and heat.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice roughened. “You feel…” He stops himself, teeth grazing your shoulder as if he has to bite back the rest.

You turn your face into his damp hair. “Say it.”

He finds your hands on the sheet, threading your fingers together as he presses them down on either side of your head. The gesture makes your stomach drop deliciously. Levi lifts his face enough to look at you again. 

“You feel perfect.”

He begins to move. The first thrust is slow, almost testing, his hips drawing back before pressing in again with a deep roll that makes your eyelids flutter. He watches your reaction, adjusts instantly, and repeats it with a little bit more pressure. Pleasure blooms, spreading through your pelvis in waves that make your toes curl against the sheets. His grip tightens around your hands.

“There,” he whispers. “That’s what you like.”

You can’t help the soft moan that slips out. “Mmh—yes.”

“Good. Keep your hands in mine.”

You obey, locking your fingers with his while he settles into a slow, grinding rhythm, each movement deliberate. He doesn’t thrust wildly or lose himself to speed. He takes you slowly, hips rolling into yours in a way that keeps him close to you, dragging pleasure through you with every stroke.

His face returns to your neck. The feel of his breath there makes everything more fuzzy. His mouth moves over your skin between thrusts, kissing beneath your ear, along the side of your throat, your pulse point where your heart beats fast. He groans softly when you clench around him, the sound muffled against you.

“Levi,” you gasp.

“I know,” he soothes. “I know, sweetheart. You’re taking me so well.”

The praise makes you clench again, and his hips stutter for half a second before he recovers. A flicker of satisfaction cuts through him. He loves that he can do this to you with just his voice. He loves that the same mouth that gives you dry remarks and reprimands can make you fall apart when he smooths it into just the right cadence.

He lifts his head, eyes focused. “You like hearing that?” You bite your lip, embarrassed by how obvious the answer is. Levi’s gaze drops to your mouth. “Don’t hide.”

“I like it,” you admit.

His expression shifts, tender and hungry at once. “Then I’ll say it.”

He rolls his hips again, deeper this time, and your back bends. His hands remain locked with yours, pressing them into the sheets, anchoring you both to the moment.

“You’re beautiful,” he says. “So beautiful it pissed me off today.” A breathless laugh catches in your throat, then breaks into a moan when he grinds into you again. “I’m serious. Every time someone stopped you for another picture, I wanted to drag you out of there.”

“You didn’t look pissed.”

“Yeah, well I was plotting.”

“That sounds more like you.”

His lips curve against your jaw, but the smile fades when you wrap your legs around his hips. His next thrust comes harder. You gasp, fingers squeezing his.

“There,” he says, quieter. “Hold onto me.”

You do, because there’s nothing else you can do. He fills you so deeply like this, chest against yours, hands bound together, his hips working in slow rolls that leave you no room to escape the bliss building again. The earlier orgasm has left you sensitive, and every thrust feels almost too much and exactly enough.

Levi can feel it too. He feels your body responding, the slick heat of your wetness, the fluttering pulse around him. His control thins with every soft sound you make—but he refuses to rush. He wants this to be perfect for you. He’s never been good at saying all the things he feels, but his body knows how to translate. His hips press in and grind, and his mouth finds your neck again.

“Mine,” he says, the word barely audible. Then he adds, softer, “And I’m yours.”

Your eyes sting unexpectedly, overwhelmed by the sweetness threaded through the desire. You turn your face and kiss his temple, his cheekbones, anywhere you can reach while he keeps moving inside you.

“I love you,” you whisper.

His hands grip yours harder. His rhythm falters for a single moment. Levi knows you love him. You said it during your vows. You say it in the kitchen late at night, in half-asleep murmurs, in texts, in irritated mutters when he remembers something you forgot. But hearing it now, with your body intertwined with his and your fingers woven through his, nearly breaks him.

He raises his head and kisses you. The kiss is deep, matching the movement of his body: possessive but intimate. His tongue strokes against yours as his hips roll harder, your moans spilling into his mouth. He releases one of your hands only to slide his palm beneath your lower back, adjusting the angle. The change makes him hit deeper, pressure sparking white-hot through you.

“Oh—fuck, Levi, right there,” you gasp.

He freezes for a miniscule moment, eyes narrowing with concentration, then he repeats the motion exactly. Your cry is answer enough. “Atta girl,” he says, voice rough with satisfaction. “That’s it.”

He takes your hand again immediately, returning it to the sheet beside your head, fingers lacing. He wants your hands held. He wants your body beneath him. He wants your eyes on him when he lifts his head, and your trust when he lowers his mouth to your throat and fucks you deeper. You give him all of it. He keeps praising you in low, broken sentences between kisses.

“So good for me.”

“My beautiful wife.”

“Just like that.”

“You’re perfect. You hear me? Perfect.”

Each phrase sinks under your skin. His voice is scraped raw by need. His breath grows heavier against your neck, and you feel his control beginning to slip in the strength of his grip, the subtle tremble in his arms, the way his thrusts deepen. Your walls clench around him. He groans, a low “ngh” moaned into your shoulder, and the sound shoots through your abdomen.

“Levi,” you breathe, struggling to keep your eyes open. “I’m close again.”

“I know,” he says, kissing the side of your neck, then your jaw. “I can feel it.”

He shifts his weight, nearly covering you completely while keeping your joined hands held firmly above the sheets. His hips slam into yours, giving you the deep friction your body is chasing. Your legs shake around him. 

Levi’s mind is no longer organized. His thoughts come in flashes. Your ring in the light. You calling him husband. Your walls clenching around him. Your eyes softening when you look at him. He wants to last. He wants to make this stretch until dawn. He also wants to cum inside you so badly he feels like he might just break down right here and now.

“Look at me,” he says again.

You force your eyes open. The sight of him above you nearly finishes you. His cheeks are flushed, damp hair falling forward, lips parted. His gaze is intense, but there’s so much adoration beneath it that your chest aches.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, grinding against your clit.

Your orgasm breaks over you with a cry you can’t hold back. You moan out his name, your body clamping around him, pulsing hard. Pleasure rolls through you in waves that leave you shaking beneath him. He holds your hands through it, still moving with deep thrusts that prolong every second of bliss. His face drops to your neck again, mouth open against your skin.

“Good,” he groans. “Good, sweetheart, just like that.”

The feel of you breaking around him tears through the last of his control. His hips drive down once, twice, then he thrusts deep and stays there as he cums with a rough, muffled sound against your throat. He fills you, his fingers locking tightly with yours. The warmth of it draws a weak, overstimulated whimper from you. He shudders at the sound, his body pulsing through the last waves of release.

The room goes quiet except for both of you trying to breathe. Levi’s thoughts return slowly, like a light switching on. The first thing he registers is your rapidly beating pulse beneath his lips. The second is your hands still held in his. The third is the overwhelming urge to stay exactly like this and never let the world back in.

He releases your fingers carefully, flexing his own as he realizes just how tightly he held on. He lifts his head, gaze moving over your face, checking you. “You okay?” You nod, too dazed to answer properly. “Talk to me, darling.”

A small smile pulls at your mouth despite your exhaustion. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then the corner of your mouth. “Stay there.”

“You’re still inside me, you know.”

“I noticed.”

Your laugh is almost wrecked. “Hard not to.”

His mouth twitches, but he gives you another assessing look before slowly easing out of you. The movement makes you inhale sharply from the sensitivity, and his hand immediately settles on your hip.

“Sorry,” he says.

“S’okay,” you mumble.

He reaches for tissues from the bedside table, cleaning you thoroughly. He’s gentle in his movements. He wipes his own hand, gets up only long enough to retrieve a warm damp washcloth from the bathroom, and returns before the space beside you can begin to feel cold. The bed dips under his weight.

“Open your legs a little,” he says.

“Bossy,” you say.

“You married me.”

Despite his dry tone, his touch is tender as he cleans you. He watches for every small wince, pausing when you tense, murmuring a quiet apology when the cloth brushes your sensitive clit. Once he’s satisfied, he tosses it toward the bathroom doorway with far less care than he’d normally tolerate.

You lift your eyebrows. “Did you just throw a wet washcloth on the floor?”

“I’ll deal with it in the morning,” he says.

“Who are you?”

“Your exhausted husband.”

You smile and reach for him and Levi comes to you without hesitation, sliding beneath the covers and drawing you into him. He pulls the blanket up to your shoulders, then shifts the pillows with one hand until they meet his standards. You tuck yourself against his chest, skin warm against skin. His arm curls around your waist, holding you close, and his other hand finds yours beneath the sheets. His thumb brushes over your ring finger. Again and again, like he’s reminding himself that it’s real. You both stay silent for a while. The air conditioner hums. The scent of sex and soap mingles. Your body feels heavy and loose at the same time. Levi’s heartbeat steadies beneath your cheek. 

“You handled today well,” you say.

“I hated half of it,” he huffs.

“I know.”

“The DJ was horrible.”

“I know.”

“Your uncle stepped on my shoe.”

“I saw.”

“The cake was dry.”

“You ate two slices.”

“I was being polite.”

You laugh into his chest and his arm circles around you a little more. His fingers trail slowly up and down your spine with soothing little passes that make your eyelids grow heavier.

After a moment, he says, “You looked happy.”

Your smile softens. “I was happy.”

“Good.”

You lift your head enough to look at him. His face is turned toward the ceiling, but his eyes are open. His profile is clearly fatigued. You can see the social exhaustion finally settling into him now.

“Were you?” you ask.

He shifts his gaze to you. “Happy?” You nod. Levi looks at you for a long moment, then his hand comes up to brush your hair. “I was. Still am.” He continues before you can tease him for being sweet. “I don’t like crowds or people staring. I don’t like being congratulated by someone I’ve met twice who smells like cigars. But I liked standing there with you.” His thumb strokes your skin. “I liked hearing you say yes.”

“You said yes too.”

“I know. Mine was obvious.”

“Was it?”

“I showed up in a suit, didn’t I?”

“You did look painfully handsome.”

“Painfully?” He narrows his eyes slightly.

“Tragically. I’m surprised our guests didn’t need medical attention.”

“You’re delirious.”

“I’m a bride. I’m allowed to be.”

His hand slides back down your spine. “You were the one people couldn’t stop looking at.”

You rest your chin on his chest. “Including you?”

“Especially me.”

Levi holds your gaze, and the vulnerability there is brief but unmistakable. He’s not a man who offers himself loudly, but he gives pieces of himself carefully. Sometimes they’re hidden in practical gestures, sometimes buried beneath sarcasm, and sometimes spoken in the dark when you’re joined together.

“I meant what I said,” he says. “During the vows.”

“I know.”

“I’ll probably be difficult.”

“You already are.”

His mouth twitches. “Brat.”

“But I knew that before I married you.”

“You had time to run.”

“I wore heels.”

“Poor planning.”

You smile, then press a kiss to his chest. “I didn’t want to run.”

His hand stops moving against your back. The silence that follows is thick. You feel him kiss the top of your head, lingering there longer than usual. You settle back down against him, cheek over his heart. His fingers resume their slow path along your spine. Sleep starts creeping in, blurring the city lights into distant stars behind your closing eyes.

After a few minutes, Levi says, “We should order breakfast before we sleep.”

You crack an eye open. “Now?”

“If we don’t, you’ll wake up hungry and complain.”

“I don’t complain.”

“You become dramatic.”

“That’s—that’s different!”

“You said you were turning into a ghost once.”

“Because I was fading from this realm.”

“And the solution was toast?”

A tired giggle slips out of you. He sighs deeply. He reaches blindly for the room service menu on the beside menu, squints at it, makes a faintly disgusted sound at the prices, and orders anyway from the hotel tablet because he knows you’ll want pancakes when you wake up. When he finishes, he sets it aside and pulls you closer again.

“You ordered coffee too?” you mumble.

“Yes.”

“And fruit?”

“Yes.”

“And pancakes?”

“Yes.”

“And those little biscuits you pretend not to like?”

A pause. “Go to sleep.”

You smile against him, victorious. “You like the little biscuits.”

“You know what I like more? Silence.”

“You married the wrong woman, then.”

His exhale brushes your hair. “No I didn’t.”

Your heart squeezes, but you’re too sleepy to answer. Instead, you nuzzle closer, throwing one leg over him under the blanket. He accepts the invasion with only a faint grunt, then adjusts you more comfortably against him. His arm stays around your waist.

Levi listens to your breathing slow first. His eyes are half open in the dark, thumb still resting near your ring. The day has been too much in every possible way—too loud, too crowded, too full, too busy. But this quiet is his. You are his. He is yours.

Just as sleep nearly takes you, you mumble, “For the record, the DJ played your playlist.”

Levi’s eyes close. “Go to sleep,” he says, deadpan, and holds you closer as you laugh softly into his chest.

MASTERLIST ♡ JOIN THE TAGLIST ♡ AO3 ♡ WATTPAD ♡ KO-FI

tags: @saccharinefool @bunbun6casp @hoebuns @levkuna @strangeeaglepost @how-interesting-wow @d1leviglazer @y44washere4somereason @nickibunny23 @slaytherinthoughts @levishart @gloomyveil @levislolita @nerdskillz @angierb05 @elegantmakercoffee @444anya @miaszt @vmxz6 @daisyy-lev @naxymoon @caliope13 @wh0r3f0rchoso @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @starfallenlevi @altpsyche @tea-rae

divider by: thecutestgrotto

“You’re hurt.”

The captain's voice echoed down the empty corridor, alarming in its unexpectedness. Levi’s voice, normally so detached, now carried an obvious, deep-seated sense of concern. For all of his stoicism and pragmatism out on the field, your safety was one of the few things he simply could not remain composed about. Not when you stubbornly pushed yourself as much as you did, and certainly not when his entire life had been defined by losing almost everyone he let close.

Your shoulders stiffened and rose as your steps slowly came to a halt. Forearm still resting heavily against the wall, currently the only thing keeping you upright. Your hands squeezed into a tight fist and your chest heaved from the painful sensation climbing up your legs and leaking into every inch of your wounded frame. Clenching your jaw, you exhaled and looked over your shoulder with narrowed eyes, that familiar stubborn expression. “Damnit, Levi I’m–” you started, voice strained and frustrated.

However, your words promptly died in your throat upon seeing Levi’s own countenance; his eyebrows furrowed, jaw set in both concern and equal stubbornness, the corners of his mouth now twitched downward, and his eyes fixed on you with unwavering focus. His expression was somehow both fiercely protective and uncharacteristically vulnerable for a man who would sooner die than speak about his emotions.

Levi steadily closed the distance between the two of you without hesitation the moment his eyes met yours. One hand placed on your shoulder furthest from the wall, while the other came up to place itself against the underside of your ribs on the side where your arm was braced against the wall. Their grip was gentle but firm. From behind you, he glanced up slightly to meet your gaze once more, a silent question. Once you nodded after a moment of hesitation, the hand on your shoulder moved to the backs of your knees, and before you knew it, he was holding you in both arms without any visible strain or discomfort.

With you in his arms, he turned on his heel and began walking down the corridor. Long strides quick but careful as to not jostle you and worsen your injuries. Every so often his gaze flickered down fleetingly then darted back up again before you caught it. Though each time you could feel the tightening of his fingers on your lower back.

It wasn’t too long before you two reached the door of his office. He shifted your weight in his arms, propping you further against his shoulder, then reaching his hand to the doorhandle, pulling it down and opening it. Stepping through the threshold.

The faint smell of tea, ink and something herbal filled your nose. It was quite a pleasant smell, and distinctly his. The office itself was equally as pleasant; warm lighting, tidy surfaces, organised shelves, and a plush, maroon sofa positioned below the large window in the centre of the wall behind Levi’s desk.

Immediately, Levi carried you over to the sofa, leaning down to place you there carefully. Ensuring there were cushions behind you to support your back while you sat upright. You blinked for a moment in surprise, taken aback by the rare display of softness from the ever stoic Levi Ackerman. Even though he was softer around you than he was around most people, the contrast was still jarring.

You watched him walk away, towards his desk and lean down to the draws, searching through them. When he leaned down the back of his white dress shirt strained against his muscular back, outlining the obvious definition in his shoulders. Strong forearms equally as obvious where his sleeves were rolled to his elbows. The veins beneath his hands shifted rhythmically with each twist of his fingers. Even under the warm light, his features remained sharp and intense. His raven-black hair was stark against the soft golden glow of lanterns lining his office. Your eyes couldn’t help but linger; it was rare moments like these where you could really see and remember how striking he actually was. So much so that it hardly mattered how young he looked, or how small he was in comparison to other soldiers his rank. He was absolutely breathtaking.

At that moment, everything else mattered very little. The pain of your wounds gradually dulled. The sounds of birds chirping their soft melodies from outside quietened. The lanterns glow served only to illuminate every feature of the beautiful man under them.

Even as Levi straightened once more, turning around with some first aid equipment in his hands, you did not look away. Normally you would rather be caught dead than shamelessly staring like this. He noticed. Of course he did. Levi noticed everything about you, down to the tiniest shifts in demeanour or any slight flicker of hesitation in your eyes.

However, this time, even Levi’s breath caught slightly seeing the admiration in your gaze. His step faltered, and for a moment, he stopped walking. His eyes met yours where you were positioned on the sofa; your back pressed against the cushions resting on the arm of the sofa, and your legs in front of you, one half bent. His normally sharp grey-blue eyes softened as they locked onto yours, his eye contact unwavering without being overwhelming. For a second, nobody moved. Before he stepped forward again. Closing the distance between the two of you and stopping just in front of you, placing the equipment in his arms down onto the sofa by your leg.

With his hands free, one came up and cupped your jaw with an uncharacteristically gentle grip, index finger pressing lightly just below your ear above the curve of your jaw. While his thumb tilted your chin up towards him. His other hand came down and rested on the back of the sofa for balance. Nothing happened immediately.

Then Levi spoke, his voice little more than a soft, deep murmur as he lowered himself slightly, leaning down again, the proximity between the two of you only increasing each passing minute. “You worried me,” he admitted. It made you freeze for a second. Levi almost never admitted to worrying or caring for anyone. Not verbally. He was a man of very few words. Few people could see that he cared, even fewer could hear it said aloud.

Your expression visibly softened, eyes widening softly as your lips parted to respond. Though before any sound could come through, Levi’s thumb that had been on your chin, slowly moved up to rest against your lips, pressing lightly on your bottom one. “Shhh.”

He hushed quietly, almost reverently as his eyes marvelled over your own features. Travelling with soft admiration over the curve of your jaw, the tilt of your nose, the way your eyes reflected the warm lantern glow as shadows danced beautifully across them. All the way down to your subtly parted, waiting lips whereby his thumb still rested. Testingly, his thumb moved down slightly. Not demanding, not exactly lustful, but more exploring.

Your expression remained soft, though certainly caught entirely off guard by the rare display of raw romantic affection from Levi. No more attempts were made at an utterance. There was no need. Levi’s tender ministrations spoke more volumes than any word ever could.

Slowly, the hand closest to Levi that had previously rested limp on your lap, rose upward towards his face. Brushing one strand of hair from his forehead, before resting on the side of his head, fingers curling lightly around the back. Your thumb rubbing light circles into the side of his undercut. And suddenly–

It was at that moment Levi finally closed the distance. His thumb shifted from your chin to hold the other side of your jaw, and his eyes closed at the same time yours did. Your lips met, the touch almost featherlight at first. Clumsy, if anything. This wasn’t really familiar territory for either of you. Despite that, Levi’s lips still moved with quiet certainty, as he guided the kiss. The hand that had been resting against the back of the sofa now tangled itself in the hair on your nape. Not squeezing; just holding. Whilst his hand that was on your jaw tilted your head up towards him.

Your other hand came up to grip the front of the navy blue tie he wore that stood out against the crisp white of his dress shirt. But suddenly, overtaken by a sudden boldness, you wrapped your fingers around the knot of his tie and pulled him closer so that he was practically on top of you. One of his knees forced to rest between your legs without breaking the passionate exchange.

The kiss was warm; the cooler air of the office at nighttime soon forgotten among the exchange of warm breaths. Levi tasted just like the expensive tea leaves he always insisted on buying. The scent of his cologne was earthy with undertones of spicy vanilla. His breath mingled with yours and his hand had moved lower, down from your nape to roam over your back and settle against the curve of your waist.

With that, Levi deepened the kiss, using his grip on your jaw as leverage to tilt your head for better access. Your body was pliant beneath his guidance, and your lips parted without question the moment you felt his tongue brush against your lower lip, a silent ask for permission.

Levi’s tongue slipped into your mouth, meeting yours with calm desire. The two tongues mingled and danced over each other. Neither fighting for dominance or control, even as the kiss grew more and more intense. Even as the top buttons of your shirt fell open at some point and Levi's hand slipped underneath. Tracing the delicate curves of your body with pure adoration. Even as the buttons on his own shirt came undone, and his tie loosened then fell discarded.

His hand travelled further south, resting on your thigh where his thumb rubbed tantalising circles on the inner side of it. The heat of his mouth absorbing any sounds that left yours. Even when he pulled back to catch his breath, his ministrations did not stop. His hands moved gently, his tongue no less careful. Your hands remained tangled in his parted shirt, eyes shut tight, trusting him completely.

Especially when he pulled back to trace kisses down your neck. Nipping gently and leaving small marks, while pushing your jaw upward with his thumb that still remained in place. Allowing him further access to claim the supple skin from the curve of your jaw, to your neck and all the way down to the sensitive flesh of your collarbone. He hardly reacted whenever hands shifted over him, whether that was to grip his hair, buttons or the fabric at the back of his shirt.

Here, only under the warm light of this room were the two lovers mingled. Two bodies; one soul. Caught in this delicate dance of affection.

“I love you,” Levi murmured against the crook of your neck.

Those three, private words would forever stay inside that room. Inside that single, precious moment that they shared.

The world was an unforgiving place. Rotten with endless cruelty.

Levi’s world wasn’t. His world, held ever so gently in his hands, was neither unforgiving nor cruel. They had endured relentless bitterness and chosen to remain merciful, to remain kind, and to remain present to share this small, fleeting moment with him.

Levi would rather die than speak. But in that moment, speaking sounded less like a death sentence and more like the last thing he could do to show this rotten world that he too, hadn’t abandoned his humanity. His heart, sentimental boulder, was still heavy with decades of things left unsaid.

You could only shiver helplessly in his arms, the aftershocks of the orgasm completely controlling your nerves and paralysing your limbs. "Y-Yes," you breathed.

"Shall I stop?" he asked. He looked at your undone face, ensuring he hadn't overwhelmed you.

You frantically shook your head, your fingers clutching his shoulders. "N-no, mate me. I n-need the knot... I need your seed." You pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes with a needy, utterly desperate whimper. "Please."

Hearing your submission, Levi’s jaw clenched. He held you tightly against his chest, refusing to let a single inch of his cock slip out of your soaking warmth, and carried you over to his massive oak desk. He carefully laid you down onto the smooth wood. Your back instinctively arched in pure pleasure as his thick shaft shifted deep inside your womb from the movement of your body.

Levi hovered over you, his chest heaving as he looked down at you splayed out on his desk, your hair messy, your skin flushed, and your thighs wide open for him. You looked like the most perfect, beautiful meal.

He ran his large hand down the curve of your stomach, his fingers trailing down your soft skin as he began bucking into you all over again. His pace was slower now, deeper.

"I have such a perfect mate," Levi growled, a dark, possessive purr vibrating in his chest as he buried his full length into you, hitting your sensitive cervix with a heavy, deliberate thud. "Look at how beautifully you take me. Look at how tight you are for your Alpha."

You let out a broken cry, your hands reaching up to grip the edges of the desk as he ground his pelvis hard against your pussy lips.

"You're mine," Levi murmured fiercely, leaning down so his mouth was just an inch from yours, his hot breath mingling with your groans. He gripped one of your thighs, pinning it flat against the desk to open you up even wider, exposing your slick, twitching centre to his relentless gaze. "Every single inch of this beautiful body belongs to me. Nobody else gets to see you like this. Nobody else gets to hear these noises you make for me. Just me."

He pulled back, his eyes locked on the place where your bodies joined. Watching himself slide smoothly in and out of your soaking folds was driving him crazy, but he intentionally held back his own release, determined to worship you until you were entirely spent. He bucked his hips again, a long, rolling thrust that made your stomach flutter.

"Good girl, keep taking it all," he praised, his voice a spell that made your Omega core ache with love. "You're doing so well for me, sweetheart. Let your Alpha take care of you. Let me breed you."

He leaned down to capture your mouth in a deep, slow, and possessive kiss, his tongue mimicking the heavy friction of his hips as he continued to make slow, passionate love to you on the desk, marking your soul just as deeply as he had marked your skin.

The slow, devastating movement of Levi’s hips was a beautifully calculated torture. Every deep, rolling thrust drove you closer and closer to the edge all over again. The friction of his thick Ackerman shaft rubbing against your highly sensitive, swollen walls was too intense, forcing your body to tighten frantically around him as the pressure built into a roaring crescendo.

"Levi—ah! I'm going to... I'm coming again!" you cried out, your fingers desperately clawing at the desk beneath you.

The moment Levi felt your inner walls begin to twitch and clamp down on him, he stopped his thrusts. With a groan of sheer willpower, he pulled his length nearly all the way out of you, leaving only the broad, throbbing tip teasing your entrance. He braced his large hands on either side of your hips, leaning back just enough to watch you come undone right below him.

A loud, shattered sob tore from your throat as your body climaxed without his movement. Your back arched completely off the desk, your chest heaving as the intense waves of your second orgasm ripped through your nerves. Your hot Omega slick came pouring out of you, dripping down his thick shaft and coating his knuckles. Your thighs shook uncontrollably, your toes curling as you practically vibrated from the sheer force of the pleasure.

Levi looked down at you, a wave of pure satisfaction washing over his sharp features. A dark, possessive smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his silver eyes completely blown out as he took in the sight.

You looked absolutely breathtaking. Your hair was wildly fanned out across his desk, your cheeks were flushed, and your chest was rising and falling in ragged gasps. Your thighs were completely trembling and wide open, entirely vulnerable and beautifully ruined just for him.

He let out a deep, rumbling Alpha purr that vibrated the very wood beneath you. He reached down with one hand, his calloused fingers gently stroking the inside of your shaking thigh, leaning over you to press a soft, adoring kiss to your sweat-slicked forehead.

"Look at you," Levi growled softly, his voice thick with adoration. "So beautiful. Look at how pretty my mate looks when she cums for me. My perfect little Omega."

Levi looked down at your beautifully ruined form, his chest heaving as the sweet, heavy scent of your second release filled every corner of the office. The primal pull was too strong now. The desk was fine for a quick, desperate claim, but his Alpha instincts were screaming at him to properly nest with his mate, to take you to a place of total comfort where he could lock you down completely.

With an effortless lift, Levi scooped you up into his arms, keeping your bare legs wrapped securely around his waist. He didn't let his cock slip from your soaking warmth for even a second, carrying you across the room to the small, cosy cot nestled in the corner of his office.

He lay you down onto the soft, clean sheets, immediately hovering over you and pinning your hands above your head. His silver eyes were completely dark, the last remnants of his civilised composure burning away into feral dominance.

"This is it, brat," Levi rasped, his voice dropping into a deep, dirty, and possessive register that made your core instantly throb. "I'm locking you to me now. I’m going to knot you so deep you won't remember your own damn name."

You let out a needy, breathless whimper, your back arching off the mattress as he re-aligned his thick, heavy shaft.

Without an ounce of hesitation, Levi began to ravage you. He drove into you with a fierce, unrelenting speed, his hips slamming ruthlessly against yours. The dirty words poured from his lips against your neck. "You're getting completely filled with my seed, you hear me? I'm going to stretch you out, lock my knot inside your pretty little pussy, and keep you pinned under me until I know you're carrying my heir. You're mine to breed, sweetheart. Just mine."

The sheer, dirty intensity of his mating talk drove your Omega mind into an absolute frenzy. You dragged your nails across his chest, howling in pure pleasure as the bedpost rattled against the wall. Every heavy thrust was a brutal, perfect claim.

As he continued to make deep, worshipful love to you, the base of his cock began to throb. You gasped, your eyes widening as you felt a sudden, massive fullness stretching your entrance, his Alpha knot was rapidly swelling to its true, intimidating size.

"Levi—it's too big—ah!" you screamed, your internal walls desperately trying to accommodate the massive growth.

"Take it all for your Alpha," Levi growled, his jaw clenching as he used his full weight to push the thick, swollen ball of his knot completely inside your tight, soaking core.

The incredible, overwhelming sensation of his massive knot passing your threshold and locking himself inside you was the absolute breaking point. A blinding flash of white-hot pleasure shattered your vision, and you came harder than you ever had in your life, your internal muscles convulsing violently in massive, desperate clamps around his locked shaft.

Levi let out a shattered, primal growl as your tight release squeezed him. He couldn't move fully anymore, but he shifted what little he could, nudging his thick, pulsing knot deep inside your twitching walls to ensure every drop would hit its mark.

Finally, his control ruptured.

Levi leaned down and bit into your shoulder, his sharp teeth clamping hard to anchor himself as his hot Alpha seed began to explode deep inside your womb. He held you so close it felt like he wanted to pull you inside his own skin, his body rigid and shaking violently as he ejaculated in thick, heavy, endless pulses, filling you to the absolute brim while you both drifted into the blissful eternity of the fated mate bond.

As the thick, hot pulses of his seed continued to fill you to the absolute brim, Levi felt the fierce tension in his muscles finally begin to melt away. Locked tightly inside your soaking, twitching core by the massive swell of his knot, he knew he wasn't going anywhere for a while. The biological lock had you bound together on the mattress, perfectly trapped in the afterglow of your fated union.

The terrifying, ruthless Alpha weapon completely vanished.

Levi leaned his weight onto his forearms, keeping his chest pressed flush against your soft, bare breasts. He looked down at your dazed, beautiful face with eyes that were now soft and filled with love. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a series of slow, lazy, and deeply affectionate kisses, tasting the sweet vanilla of your breath.

"My mate... my perfect, beautiful mate," Levi mumbled against your lips, his voice dropping into a warm, sleepy purr.

He pulled back just an inch, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear of pure pleasure from your cheek. He looked into your eyes, his protective instincts turning incredibly sweet. "Hey. Look at me, sweetheart. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You shivered slightly under his heavy frame, a soft, content smile spreading across your face. You reached up, tangling your fingers in his damp, dark hair to pull him down for another quick kiss. "I'm okay, Levi. I promise. You were perfect... my Alpha."

Hearing your reassurance instantly sent humanity's strongest soldier into full, cute puppy mode.

A soft, low purr of happiness rumbled in his throat. Levi buried his face right back into the crook of your neck, loudly nuzzling his nose against your scent gland, inhaling your vanilla and winter berry scent like it was his oxygen. He peppered your collarbone, your jaw, and your cheeks with a barrage of tiny, adoring kisses, his lips moving with a playful, needy urgency that made you let out a breathless giggle.

He slid his hands up from the mattress, taking your small, shaking hands into his. Levi laced his long fingers through yours, lifting your hands to his face to kiss your knuckles, casually inspecting your palms and playing with your fingers like a lazy, content wolf guarding his favourite treasure.

"You're so small," he murmured affectionately, a rare, boyish smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he squeezed your hands. "Small and soft. Perfect for me."

As you lay there, trapped beneath his heavy knot and in the warm duvet, Levi suddenly slid one of his hands down to the soft flare of your waist. His long fingers began to lightly, playfully drum against your sensitive ribs, a wicked, teasing glint returning to his eyes.

"Levi, wait—" you gasped, instantly twisting your hips as the light friction sent a sudden burst of ticklish electricity through your nerves. You let out a bright laugh, trying to wiggle away from his fingers, but his knot kept you pinned perfectly in place. "Levi, stop, it tickles!"

"Tch. Let me love you, brat," Levi chuckled softly, his voice full of a beautiful warmth as he kept lightly tickling your sides, watching you squirm and laugh beneath him. He leaned down to press one final, deeply tender kiss right to the tip of your nose. "You're stuck with me now. Get used to it."