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peace-for-levi · 2 years

Note

Happy 600!!! SO proud of you! 🖤

For your event, I’d love to have my boy Levi & the prompt: “Don't look at them, look at me."

I’d love for this to be canon.

Levi gets a serious injury in the field for the first time and You can’t keep your relationship a secret anymore from the Scouts while Levi fights oncoming unconsciousness.

You just want to comfort Levi and be there for your baby before he gets the medic, talkng him through it and keeping him with you. If he mentioned “it hurts,” I will cry. Bonus points.🥲

Levi has fear in his eyes for the first time in his life and he just needs You to save him.🥹

so you and i sorta talked and to those of you apart from alla reading, we settled on recreating the after-effects of the thunderspear incident! this isn't my best but i do hope you sorta like it? focused more on the feelings rather than dialogue.

w/c: 3,842

content and warnings: descriptions of drowning, self-hatred and shame, and canon-typical gore/injuries. Slight canon-divergence in the sense that I wrote Levi with a stomach injury on top of his face being slashed open. Implied secret relationship. Reader goes berserk at Floch momentarily but i don't blame them tbh.

The soul of the heavens arrives in generous pellets of water. In downpours this heavy, one might feel cleansed and humbled. The mud on the ground is putted, washed clean of any footprints.

The crashing and roaring waves of the river – with no thanks to the rain making and pushing and pulling so merciless – are no less inviting than the pure Titan transformation he spots for a split second before his brain slows to a sudden halt. His eyes are shut as he's airborne, unable to brace himself.

There is a crash upon the impact: the impact of Levi being catapulted into the river. It's a heavy blow, he feels, and suddenly he's still; in limbo.

The water is murkier underneath than the surface. He feels it seeping in, keeping him snug as he plummets further. The dull ache in his right hand is gone.

He sinks further. It's slow, stagnant.

He feels like he's rotting now. The comforting lull, the darkness all around… It was eerily hypnotic and he feels his heart slow.

Death, right now, seemed so inviting.

I failed you Erwin and Hange, he says as he falls.

There's a feeling of decay building within him. His limbs feel heavier than a few moments ago.

[F/n], I… I failed you, too, he admits. He opens his eyes a bit at this realization.

Drowning was such a bitch of a way to go. Panic, fear, and then nothing. The stray hairs of his undercoat float up. Absent-mindedly, he reaches for something. He thinks he sees a hand – your hand – reaching for him; he wants to see your hand reaching for him.

[F/n], please…

Who's he begging to? More specifically, why was he begging to you? He's so far down below, he's a deadman.

He reaches forward some more. Is that the light of the sun he sees, or is this the light people talk about as you're about to cross over?

Death, right now, seemed so inviting… but not today. Not for him.

Not yet!

Levi does not get to rest easy.

He feels his lungs seize and he gasps. His throat burns and eyes snaps open, blearily blinking through grime and dirt. With whatever he could muster and before his lungs give out, he starts to swim upwards. It’s a struggle, even for someone like him, to try to swim in these conditions.

He heaves in massive strokes once he breaks the surface and thankfully, he’s not too far from the banks of the river. He fists onto one of the reeds sprouted by the river’s edge and pulls himself ashore. He braces his weight to the heels of his palms, but he buckles. He catches himself in time and lands on his back.

Everything feels heavy and dirty and wrong. He raises his right hand to dab at his face, and– oh.

His lips part. His index and middle finger– where did they–?

Before he can even contemplate where the fingers may have fallen to, he’s clutching his stomach in pain. Bile is building up in the back of his throat. Even as he lies dead still, blood is gushing out of whatever arteries were severed in great surges. Every time he blinks to try to clear his vision, his right eye will not adjust.

He tries again, and again, and again.

Eventually, it all clicks to him.

Defeated – he truly feels defeated. Zeke was probably long gone. Even if he was nearby, it'd make no difference; Levi's in bits, his ears are ringing and drowning out everything and he is in no position to fight.

Still, he relents and tries again to prop himself up again for he can't let Erwin down like this. It has been four painstakingly slow years and he was so fucking close, and it blew right up in his face. Literally.

He failed Erwin, again; he let the Beast Titan slip away, again.

I failed, I failed, I failed…

With shaking hands and shuddering breaths, he is left to lie there in his misery.

I'm sorry…

His eyes snap shut and he gasps in deep strokes. This is the closest he has ever been to Death's doors since he was a kid. Is this what it feels like to be left behind while you are too weak to go on?

I'm… terrified, he admits. Letting out another choked sob as he succumbs to his fragile emotional state, Terrified of dying and of dying so slowly, terrified of letting people down again. Terrified of leaving you behind in this crazy, unsafe and new world, and that you may have to navigate it without him.

But he can't just leave you behind… not when there's still a slim chance he can still push through this. He can't just toss in the towel now – he still has to fulfil Erwin's final order.

He just can't help it that he's tired.

Even so, he refuses to close his eyes.

He will get through this.

For you. For Erwin. For Hange. For the kids. People are counting on him; depending on him.

For a while the world stills and slows, though, and as a harsh gust blows through the coniferous trees, he swears he can hear your agonized screams.

[F/n]...

[F/n], please…

I'm so terrified…

It all hurts…

He briefly comes to his senses when he feels warm hands cup his bloody cheeks. At this point, he's running out of energy to keep himself conscious. He can just breathe and stay calm. But when the fingers gently shake and rub away some of the grime from his face, he focuses his gaze a bit. He hears agonized sobs piercing the air.

A gasp. "...[F/n]?" He blinks more, surely he's dreaming.

He snapped his gaze over to the footsteps he hears.

Jaegerists.

"Don't look at them. Look at me." You whispered hastily, tapping at his cheek as if to keep him awake. "Levi… Oh, Levi…"

It was such a sobering sight to see Levi Ackerman like this. What could have happened… He looked like death. You hurriedly pressed two fingers to the pulse point on his neck.

Slow and shallow.

You continued to whimper, silently begging to the goddesses above – would they help you now?

Hange rushes up beside you, a hand on your back as they move to assess him. You bury your eyes in your hands, unable to stay remotely professional.

Any more theatrics and Hange might find out about you two, after all. And what would that mean for the Jaegerists? A close association to Humanity's Strongest? That didn't spell good news.

You hear footsteps behind you.

"Is that Captain Levi?"

Fucking Floch, traitorous bastard. What could he possibly want? You peer up behind you and your eyes zero in on the shotgun in his hand.

No way, he wouldn't–

"Heh, I don't know what happened but we're lucky it did. The biggest threat we faced is lying in a bloody heap," he said.

A soldier beside Floch stepped forward, clearly very eager to use his shotgun. "We should put one in his head just in case."

You gasped and immediately rose to your feet. Adrenaline surged followed by a swift kick and the man was disarmed, shotgun kicked far out of reach. You reach for his arm and twist it behind his back and just as you go to bend it:

"There's no need, he was caught in a thunderspear explosion at point blank range. It shredded his guts… killed him instantly…"

The soldier who was once at your mercy is dropped and you fall to your knees opposite Hange. You rest your hand an inch above his mouth. Strange; for a dead man, he was breathing semi-regularly. That's when Hange gave you the quickest look; had you blinked, you would have missed it.

Stay quiet, their eyes seemed to say.

"Floch!" a Jaegerist cries out.

You and Hange snap your heads to the commotion, the strange sight unfolding has you both stunned silent. There was a small class Titan probably no more than thirty yards away, hunched over as if in pain and steam that is normally excreted from a dead titan is being sucked back in.

This had to be an abnormal.

"Is it disappearing? Did it die?" Floch cried out, still holding his weapon from before. Though it was not like bullets would do much against a Titan anyway.

"No. Titans don't normally suck in steam like that when they disappear." Hange replied.

Eventually, the Titan's carcass did break down and evaporate. Rays of light shone through the clouds, like spotlights shining down on what was to be unveiled. You heard a rattled breath pass through Levi's lips as a figure fell unceremoniously to the ground.

Your teeth gnashed together at the sight of Zeke standing before you. You don't know how, but Zeke was responsible for Levi's grave injuries; Levi wouldn't get this injured by mishandling a Thunderspear by himself.

The Jaegerists stare in shock while Hange turns to face you. You see them stare past you and towards the river. You quickly get the message.

While Levi is physically unable to protest as he is plunged into the icy cold river, his body screams out in pain. The murky water seeping into his injuries did him no favours.

The swift current takes Hange and him along; they expertly swim with the swift pull of the river.

Amidst the crashing waves, Levi cocks his head to the side trying to see what you'd do.

Waiting for you.

*****

It's in the evening by the time you find Hange again. They had mouthed a few numbers to you before they dove into the river with Levi. You made a mental note at the time to remember, but you initially didn't understand. Once they were far out of sight, it clicked: Hange was telling you coordinates of the map you two had followed to get here. Coordinates of where they'd take him.

Cryptic, but clever; that was Hange in two words.

There was a clearing in the forest where they laid Levi down. By the time you had arrived, they unfolded a spare blanket on the ground for him to lie on, and another laid over him to keep him warm.

Hange worked in silence to get the bleeding on his face under control. It was obvious his right eye would never work again, which was a shame. His right eye once the colour of liquid mercury now was bloodied and had a milky hue to it.

Hange had asked for mostly silence but as the situation settled, you two began to talk a bit more. Good thing for you, you could hardly stop rocking back and forth as your mind raced.

"Is he going to be okay?" you blurted out.

Hange looked at you anf back down to him. "Nobody would have survived something like that, normally. But that is it to say the Ackermans aren't built like the rest of us. He'll be fine, but... He won't be doing any fighting anytime soon."

You can only nod as you watch Hange expertly stitch up. Your eyes continued to well with unshed tears every time you looked over at him.

If only you had rode a little faster.

If only you had convinced him harder in trying to stay with him the past month.

If only you had searched the Jaegerists harder and inspected the wine...

It's not like you'd have known.

Admist your introspection, Hange spoke. "So... how long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you two been seeing each other. Romantically, I mean."

Shit. Were you two going to be in trouble? No, hopefully not. Hange was one of you guys' closest friends. You had done your best to keep it under wraps, but as the war drew closer and closer, perhaps you two let some thing slip due to the sheer exhaustion of everything going on in the background.

"How did you know?"

"I'm not that stupid. But, if you must know... I always suspected something."

You gulp, but don't say anything.

Hange further clarifies: "It was your reaction to his injuries; you're a person who can normally stay reasonably composed. It was also the way Levi shifted beneath me when he heard you. And while his face was all bloody and battered, he... looked at you in a way I have never seen him look at someone before."

You nod. You figure it might be alright to tell them now. It wasn't as if you couldn't trust Hange – there was no one you trusted more after Levi – but it was purely so that there would be no outward bias and favouritism from Levi or you.

But also, because Levi was so vital to humanity's survival and victory – he couldn't afford to be chained down. As Humanity's Strongest, his duty was to humanity before it would ever be to you. But when he was just Levi? Was Levi allowed to be selfish, especially when the war was nearly over?

"A few years, around the start of 850 or so. Look, Hange–"

"--For what it's worth, I don't object," Hange interrupted. They continued to work on Levi's stitches. "I know people aren't meant to date superiors, but there is no one better suited for him than you. Look after him, okay?"

You blinked and sat back on your haunches. It was the first time that day you weren't craning your neck over to look him. Instead, you fixated on the bespectacled brunette.

"'Look after him, okay?' Hange, what do you–"

"...I just feel like this is it for me."

That was uttered so quietly, it was as if they were confessing a sin.

You're not sure if that was something you were meant to hear or not. Your lips parted and you blinked, owlishy. "Hange, no... What are you–?"

They are very quick to shut down whatever questions you had about their uncharacteristically morbid disposition. "Can you go check that we aren't being pursued? I had that we're just squatting here and there could be more Jaegerists looking for us."

Oh, you want to press further. But Hange was stubborn in every sense of the word; their stubbornness is what helped Humanity because they had to push Erwin to capture Titans and to study them more.

It's a later conversation, fine. You make your way to the entrance of the forest.

You feel a slight pressure in your head as you run. It builds and builds, and it's not long before your surroundings change. You were no longer in the forest but in a desert-like landscape. Your eyes widened at the sight of an aurora in the sky, myriads of root-like paths of iridescent light shooting out in all directions.

"To all Subjects of Ymir. My name... is Eren Jaeger..."

As Eren delivers his message, you sink to your knees and bring a hand to your forehead. Eren was actually going to ahead with this. What did this mean about Zeke? Was he still involved with this?

You scrambled to your feet and sprinted back as if you being chased by the marching Wall Titans themselves. That message was delivered to every Eldian and stunned them all silent.

"Hange!" you yell out. You hop over a few bushes and logs and push some brambles out of the way. "Did you see–?"

Levi was being pushed down by Hange as they spoke. That means he was awake, right? He was going to be okay, no? You ambled forward and plopped before him, sitting on your haunches. Levi reached a hand to you, wanting you near.

Hange smiled softly and stood up. "I'll give you two some space."

You smile at Hange as they walked away before you turned your attetion back to Levi. You gingerly cradled his bandaged face, thumbs smoothing under his cheekbones. His brows were knitted together; you initially assumed it was out of pain but he would have spoken up if that was the case.

He was devastated.

He was ashamed of himself.

Zeke was long gone now, but that didn't matter. He'd chase after him to the ends of the Earth in the name of fulfulling Erwin's final order. He'd fight to the bitter end if it meant making the world a safer place for you both.

"I failed." He finally admits.

How could he think that? He was a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was the only time he had underestimated the enemy. And Zeke was no ordinary enemy.

He was your safe haven; your release. It hurt you just as much to see him this way.

"I should..." he pauses to cough. You rest a hand on his tummy; his breaths are laboured. He has to catch his breath in between speaking. "I should have predicted the explosion."

"Levi, stop, you couldn't have–"

"It's been four years, [F/n]. Four shitting years. And I am no clo... closer than I was in Shiganshina." He said this through gnashed teeth.

You lean back and sigh. Even when he was gravely injured, he was still thinking about this damn promise. It's not that it wasn't worthy of being a promise, but it kept Levi awake at night (more than usual.) It was how Levi planned out every movement of every day.

"Erwin wouldn't want to see you struggling like this," you settled. Levi swallowed thickly. He looks towards the fire and tries to distract himself with the sparking embers. He begins to shiver a bit. With all the care in the world, you move him a little closer. "And neither would I."

He turns his head away. He has a bitter look on his face. He was probably pouting – as best as he could – beneath the bandages. "You heard 'em, [F/n.] They think I'm dead. I should be out there, fighting alongside you all. And I fucked up and now you and Hange and everyone in Shiganshina is paying the price."

He pauses, his eyes shutting.

"People's lives are on the line, and I could have been there."

It's a grumble. He's not looking at you, probably out of shame.

"Who says it has to be just you to take down Zeke, huh? Because Erwin said so?" You challenge. You are aware you're overdoing it and that you're cutting deep, but he is too stubborn and too familiar with shouldering everything that he has forgotten that sometimes even the strongest need a rest when they have been taken down. "You are not going after Zeke in this condition. Not until Hange gives you the all clear. Let us help you!"

"Tch, you don't–"

"–I don't understand?! Levi, I almost lost you today!" you choked. By now you have allowed yourself to – gently – slump over his body, trying to find some solace in his arms. You sit up again quickly, looking into his good eye. "I know killing Zeke is important, but you need to rest first, please! If I saw… If I had to see you that bloody and battered again…" you stop yourself from saying anything else.

It's not that you were arguing out of jealousy or anger. But it was likely Levi's first thought upon waking up was just Zeke. He was wholly consumed by this lofty goal. He wouldn't see himself as worthy unless Zeke was dead.

Levi Ackerman cannot afford to fail. Not now, not ever. At least that was how he disciplined himself.

You couldn't find it within yourself to continue the conversation. It just hurt. You were still reeling from seeing Levi so beaten up. Still reeling from the fact that if he wasn't an Ackerman, he would have died.

"I'm sorry, Levi. Sorry for… yelling. I just…"

He only nods, teeth chattering. "I know… It's okay. I know this must be a shock…" he says as he lifts up his right hand, looking at the missing fingers. "It is for me, too."

The silence that permeates between you two was initially palpable, but it becomes comforting the more you listen to his steady breathing.

Here's here now.

He's alive now.

And you would do anything to protect him.

"How are you now? Still cold?"

You hear him sigh through the bandages. He coughs before answering. "Sore."

"Where?" you ask, but that's a stupid question. Everything hurts from his head to his heart. You lean down and kiss his forehead, and trail a few kisses down his temples and uninjured cheek. "I love you so. You are no failure, Levi."

You swore you heard him inhale shakily, and that you saw his lips wobble.

"What about you?" he asked. How am I supposed to protect you in this state?

All you do is shake your head. No, stop it. Don't beat yourself up.

He relents. You weren't about to let yourself feel victimised. But also, you had to ease him of his doubts. If that was at all possible.

"You need not worry about me. Hange and I will come up with something, you just need to rest and heal."

He exhales, shakily. "Tch," he grunts in pain. "It all... hurts." You nod, smiling sadly. It was a smile that didn't - couldn't - make it up to your eyes. You smooth a thumb under his eyes, catching the stray tears that trickled down.

"Cry if you need to, I'll always listen."

You thumbed away every stray tear and listened to every worry the man had.

"Is there anything else I can do?" You ask him.

A shaky hand reaches out for you. He wants you closer. "...here. Stay. Stay with me."

Of course you would.

You'd follow Levi forever; loving him, listening and caring for him.

Hange, themself, had asked you to as well, and you were not about to let them down.

#cece.600 #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi #aot #snk #snk levi #aot levi #snk x you #aot x you #captain levi #levi fanfiction #cece; speaks #moots; alla

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peace-for-levi · 2 years

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Levi Ackerman x Sick!Reader Headcanons

Battling the NASTIEST chest infection + post-viral-asthmatic flare up ever and i am SUFFERING. As you know, I write primarily in canonverse. This is a SFW piece so minors are free to interact with this post if you see it in the tags ONLY - you are not free to interact with the other content on my blog.

content warnings: general descriptions of sickness, fainting, levi getting irrationally anxious

taglist: @levmada (thanks for their help on some of this btw!!) @levi-my-beloved @maries-gallery @sckerman @lostinwildflowers @starstruckkittensweets @unadulteratedtreecrusade @notgoodforlife @pockcock @nelapanela94 @wortverlust (lmk if you wanna be added to it!)

///

At the sound of any congestion in your voice when you’re with Levi, he’s up in an instant with the backs of his fingers pressed to your forehead.

“You have a fever, dummy.” He’d say.

You quickly shake his hands away. It was a bit of a chesty cough and congestion with a slight fever, totally fine! Everything was fine. If you gave yourself permission to feel sick, your body would crumble and succumb to it all - right before an expedition. So no, no self-pity denial was the way to go.

Although, it was all those things, with the shivers and extreme fatigue as well.

Besides, the wintery months were approaching and with the talk of the town being that this winter would be a bit harsher than normal. Many large-scale expeditions had been cancelled or rescheduled. While Erwin can seem like a cross to a madman and an executioner to the people who don’t know him too well, he wasn’t going to needlessly sacrifice his men in this kind of scenario.

But tomorrow’s one was just a short one; Orvud District had reported back that there had been some suspicious behaviour and an abnormal amount of Titans flocking by the Wall. It was a simple go there, make note of what happens, kill a few titans if needed and head home.

It. Was. Fine.

But god, you could feel the dull throb of a headache reach every corner of your brain. You were sure if you allowed your eyes to close for a quick snooze, you would sleep through til tomorrow.

Levi heaved a sigh, knowing that the last thing you wanted to do was back down from something you had agreed to go on. Not that expeditions were fun, per se, but there were people expecting you to go.

The first thing Levi does before he goes all ‘doting-coddling-boyfriend-Levi’ is to have a word with Erwin or Hange. He makes sure anything you have lined up can be shifted to his schedule instead.

By the time he comes back from rearranging his and your schedules a bit, he is more than a bit miffed to see that you were trying to busy yourself with organising the bookshelf (not that it needed organising, you just needed to not give into sickness.) He stands with his arms crossed, much like how a mother would before she scolds her child.

“[F/n].”

You stop what you're doing with a dramatic sigh. Holding onto the edges of the shelves, you step down slowly. Levi eyes you like a hawk as he sets the step-ladder away.

But, to quote Levi himself (although to quote this is kind of a stretch here, but you get the picture), he has seen too many abnormal things and as such, he is able to react the quickest.

So when the floorboards beneath you seem soft enough for you to slip through, or how the world suddenly seemed to have flipped itself on its axis… Or the headache you had was the kind that stopped all other traffic in the brain… And when you begin to stagger backwards as your palm collides to your forehead? Well, he's got his arms wrapped around you instantly keeping you upright. He initially doesn't anticipate your dead weight against him, but he recovers quickly.

Well, now that you're not in a position to resist him - Mama Levi is now activated.

If it's a cold-and-cough combo you have - especially if it's one triggered by allergies or dust - Levi is more than happy to dust everything in sight. It keeps him occupied!

Otherwise, he'd be staring endlessly at your sleeping form waiting for you to wake up. It was when you were really sick the first time with him, to the point you needed to go to the Infirmary, he stayed at your side the entire time. Hange teased him for being a worrywart, but he didn't have the time or energy to explain to them that watching someone who started off as "just" sick was not something he wanted to do again. Everyday he went to check his mom's pulse and he'd feel his heart twist and crumble a little more to find it a little weaker. Or how his dirtied fingers could press into her cheeks a little more.

"Fuck!" he yells to himself before his mind wanders down a rabbit hole. "It's a chest infection, just a chest infection, just a chest infection…" he repeats to himself.

They're not gonna end up like mom…

Hange even confirmed it. It's a seasonal thing, what with the bad weather and, let's face it - your immune system wasn't fantastic. (Kind of hard to have a "fantastic" immune system when Wall Rose was always in a state of near-famine anyway.)

He drops the broom immediately when he hears you shifting in his bed with a groan. Door is swung open and he sees how much the covers have bothered you; they're all bunched up, wrinkled and thrown about. He pulls a stool over and soaks the cloth in the bucket of water. He wrings it out and swipes at your forehead and temples with it before letting it rest on top. You smile contently at the cool sensation and Levi feels an ounce of relief at this.

He knows he's being a bit irrational. He knows he's overreacting.

But if he reacted more when he was smaller, would his mother still–

No, it was starvation that took her, there was nothing I–, he begins to say to himself, but is interrupted.

As if you read his mind, "Don't worry, I'll recover. I'll get better, 'Vi."

You move to sit up and he's there in an instant to help. He fetches the canteen of water and is very insistent you drink it. "You're hot. P-Please, just–"

You're quick to stop him. "Levi."

He's told you about his mother, so you know. You know what he's like. You note that he's staring at you with eyes steeled over; drink your water first, he seems to be saying. You drink slowly - without gulping lest you want him pouncing on you - and set the canteen down.

"I'll be fine," you assure him again. "It's just–" you pause to cough out heavily and Levi has to bite his lips to not react, "–just a cough. If I ever need help, I'll call for you. I trust you, I know better than most people how good you are at caring for people." You say, gesturing to the damp cloth, water canteen, candles lit and how he changed your clothes.

Truly, he is the best caretaker. Need to throw up? He's holding back your hair and rubbing your back as you unload breakfast into the toilet bowl.

Feeling sleepy, but too hot/cold to? He's adjusting your clothes and blankets, and props up all your pillows.

Just bored? He'll take his paperwork in with you… but that usually ends up with you two just chatting idly. Maybe reaching out to touch each other as well, or him offering to massage the dull aches in your back away.

You reach out for his war-torn hands and hold them. A gentle squeeze. "I promise this is nothing sinister." You'd kiss him, but ew, can't have you spreading whatever it is you have.

He holds your hands back though, and you think he may have gotten the message.

Only he doesn't.

Didn't his mom say the same thing?

You're not clear of suspicion, per se, until you are up and able bodied.

He doesn't like empty promises from the people he loves. Not when this life is so uncertain and he's lost so many people that he doesn't know how he's still going some days.

When you're sick, there's no getting up at all or lifting a damn finger. If you're sick, you're basically going to be babied.

He is always keeping a close eye on you but you find it odd how he doesn't sleep in the same bed as you. Even when you're truly on the mend.

Because one day he fell asleep next to Kuchel, and the next morning she was ice cold…

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peace-for-levi · 2 years

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professor!levi drabble #2

a continuation of sorts on from this ! and to think this was meant to be a drabble but it ended up being 2700 words of me wanting my ass ate by professor!levi bYEEEEE.

content warnings: blatant smut, levi being a tease, a bit more body worship than what i'd like but anyway, hints of overstimulation, use of vibe, anal play (f!receiving)

tagging: @levi-my-beloved @levmada @poisonpeche @maries-gallery and uhhh @bibblelevi (idk u requested professor!levi from my first.)

"[F/n]?"

Your head rose slowly from your notes. You merely glanced at him and then went right back to reading. Well, at least you acknowledged his presence, right?

It was just after seven – or eight, maybe (you weren't keeping track) – and Levi had just peered his head into where you were: his bedroom. Although, he had grown comfortable now calling it your shared bedroom. It was a cosy space, nice warm tones cast from the glowing, amber lamps on his bedside lockers. On his desk were two bundles of exams he had assigned recently and they sat stacked before his laptop. His workspace both at the university and at home were immaculate, though that was hardly a surprise.

“Working hard, or hardly working?” he asks you.

You just scoff in response, now crossing one leg over the other. He rests his briefcase down and loosens his tie – but doesn’t take it off – before setting his gaze on you. You’re just wearing your pyjamas or bed clothes: a loose, camisole and some frilly shorts. Comfortable clothes were key for studying. But, he didn’t like that you were on your back while studying.

“Tch, [F/n]... I know you find it comfortable, but lying down whilst trying to study will just make you sleepy. Lying on a bed in particular totally defeats the purpose.” He reminds you.

“Sorry, O Wisened One,” you mock, but then you squish the notes against your face, sighing heavily. He is sliding your shoes together into two neat pairs by his door when he hears your sigh and he pouts a bit upon seeing your crestfallen expression. You swore you heard him hum to himself, as if that comment pissed him off but he was just biting his tongue. You speak up: “I’m… just exhausted. It’s just– I don’t know. My brain is rejecting all information at this stage.”

Ah, reading week. Levi remembers this time a bit too well for his liking, all of the hours he poured into his exams and assignments. Sure, it all paid off in the end and he considered himself fortunate to be able to teach a subject he was so passionate about, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten the arduous journey it took to reach that point.

If there were any benefits about lowkey dating your professor it would be that he was the most reliable person when it came to giving you tips. For appearances sake and in the interest of being fair – which you totally understood – he never gave you any tips on his tests. People were already having their suspicions anyway… But for your other modules, he never minded quizzing you, helping you study, buying you snacks – getting or doing anything you needed to make the process easier.

And one of those things included allowing you to crash at his house every now and then. He didn’t mind at all; it meant not having to hide or pretend you didn’t exist. He could have you in any way you presented yourself to him; take you against the counter in the kitchen or in his bed, and not over the desk in his office. He could also wake up next to you and treat you as his girlfriend who he had come to genuinely care for, and not feel so filthy for getting with one of his students. He could take you on dates easier or order takeout as you both watch the most mindless documentaries.

He had half a mind to ask you to officially move in with him, but he doesn’t know how you’d feel moving in with a man who is both ten years your senior and your professor for the next two years.

He goes to shrug off his waistcoat when he hears you groan again. This time, however, there’s a bit of a whine to it too. He walks over to the bed and sits on it, observing the notepad that was now acting as a canopy for the light in the room.

“Tired, sweetheart?” he asks, though he knows the answer. You give an ‘mm-hmm’ and move to stretch your arms. “Stressed?” he presses further, now removing his tie. You nod, and you hate to admit it but it was very easy for your eyes to well with tears when you were overwhelmed with your studies.

Ah, but Levi can make it all better.

God, fuck you for wearing those damn frilly pajamas and lying on his bed so innocently. Yes, innocently, because he was attracted to you in every conceivable way. It didn’t matter what you did, or how you dressed; he was always craving you.

When he was teaching a very disengaged class who were on their phones the whole time or clearly not paying attention, it was like his mind would automatically jump to thinking of you to pass the time. What he’d get you to do for him that night, or perhaps what you’d even treat him to. What position he’d put you in, which one of his vibrators or plugs would he use on you…

Yeah, Levi could definitely make it all better.

“I’m sorry, darling…” he whispers, swinging a leg over yours and straddling you there. You quickly blink your tears away. “You’re working so hard…” he breathes into your neck whilst reaching for your wrists, “...and I haven’t been properly tending to your needs.”

Your wrists are enclosed in his larger hands and quickly – and expertly – bound by his grey tie. Your eyes are as wide as plates but you’re quickly trying to suppress a grin. He lifts up your sheer cami that did nothing to hide your pebbled nipples at his electric touch. Oh, how he loves it when you don’t wear a bra.

He’s always so soft and gentle at first. The bump of his nose trails around your navel, his lips leaving kisses in its wake. He takes his time worshipping every inch of you with open-mouth and hot kisses. He moves up to drag the flat of his tongue up and down the columns of your neck and across your collarbones, blowing a cheeky puff of air against them to make you shiver. He smirks.

Cute, he thinks as he goes to press kisses down the valley of your breasts. When he takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, you begin squirming more. It already was torturous not being able to touch him back.

He just couldn’t help it – when it came to you, he wanted to do everything.

As you softly mewl his name, he feels his cock strain against his briefs. He moves to fiddle with the button on his slacks, desperate for some relief. It is a little awkward to palm himself while his mouth is occupied with one nipple while his other hand is busy with the other. But his body acts quicker than he’d like and he’s suddenly grinding against the bunched up duvet beneath you, his cock pulsating. It’s entirely unintentional and he does his damn best to not cum until you have. You need to first, this is all about you.

“Please… please, Levi– Sir… Please, I need you to touch me–” Fuck, that did it. He can’t help it now as he slowly ruts against the quilt and it’s a constant motion after that. You smile ear to ear at this, happy he’s not denying himself of this pleasurable experience. “You like it when I moan for you, professor?”

“Shit…” he curses under his breath.

No, he has a façade to keep up.

He needs to continue pleasing you otherwise he’d be cumming in his pants before the main event. Which has happened a few times already.

The chaste kisses and nips down your torso continue until he is finally between your legs. With a firm grip on your inner thighs, he spreads your legs apart and he briefly leans down to kiss just next to your cunt. He pulls away to thumb over the faint marks that have faded over time.

“Love those,” he comments and he pulls back to slide your shorts and panties down your legs. “Hmm, I should use my tie more often. You’re so well behaved tonight.” You don’t see this as permission to be able to touch him – or being allowed to touch yourself either. “Turn around.”

You huff, but obey. He offers his praise and removes the tie binding your wrists. Thumbs smoothing over them for a second, he orders you to keep them on your back. Gentle he presses on the small of your back, allowing your back to fall into an arch. Perfect position.

He swallows thickly at the way your cunt is squished against your thighs. Licking his middle and index finger, he finally – finally – gives you what you want and touches you through your sopping folds. His touches are so light and teasing – it’s not enough, not nearly enough. The wet sounds of his fingers caressing you through your folds are most certainly audible and you nearly feel embarrassed.

“Got that wet from me just kissing you down your body? How cute.”

He leans in to kiss at your pussy and you twitch against his mouth, aching for more. But as soon as his tongue meets your pussy, he’s gone.

“Levi, what are you– oh, god–” you moan out as his tongue swipes at your other entrance. Your cute little cries and tiny gasps surely are a sign for him to keep going. You turn your head to the side and look at him and your jaw drops. He’s sucking on his own fingers and when he takes them out again there is an audible pop. Your puckered hole twitches some more as he runs the pads of his sinewy fingers over it. “That’s– Oh, fuck, Levi!”

Doubt suddenly plants itself in his mind. “Wait, do you need me to stop?”

You two had discussed in passing on teasing here, but that boundary of sorts was never passed. Not until now. He nearly feels bad for not asking you beforehand.

You frantically shake your head. “N-No, please don’t–”

Once more, his fingers are back to teasing. “That’s good. You’ve been working so hard lately, making me so proud. I intend to spoil you tonight until you’re cumming repeatedly,” he replies. He leans down to lick again. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?” His cockhead is leaking so much precum now. He doesn’t even need to see it to know that to be true; he feels truly high just by touching your body and eating you out. “What are you to me?”

“I– I’m y-your good girl–! Fuck, fuck, Levi, shit–”

His lithe fingers move to rub soft circles at your clit before returning to your puckering hole. He moans against your entrance when he feels just how much you are dripping for him. Inadvertently, you attempt to keep his hand on your clit in place but it is quickly pinned onto your ass again and the touching there from him stops. With one hand now free, he palms himself through his opened slacks and through his briefs.

God, he’s fucked you countless times already but never here. With how tight you are naturally around him sometimes, he can’t imagine how tight your ass would. He groans once more as he fishes his hand through his briefs and he’s stroking his thick cock. His hand is no comparison to your gummy walls that suck him in and milk him for all he’s worth. But it certainly wouldn’t be impossible for him to cum just from touching himself as he teases you with his tongue.

A few minutes of him pass by of him just poking and prodding at your entrance before he’s up on his knees.

“Turn around,” he orders, opening the door to his bedside locker and you’re back to where you started the night. This time without your notebook in hand but one of his small bullet vibrators that he purchased for you. “Lowest setting.”

Your chest heaves, aching for relief. “No, higher than that, Levi, come on–”

“Lowest setting or you can put the vibrator back and I’ll edge you to tears with just my tongue at your ass.” He warns.

You whimper a small bit, but knowing how ruthless your professor could be at edging, you obey. You place the vibe at your hardened clit and even at the lowest setting, you can still hear the squelching sound of your wet pussy. You grind your hips against it, aching for more friction as Levi returns. It is so hard to ignore the sounds amplified by the vibrator though.

“Do you hear how wet you are? Do you hear how noisy this cunt is?”

You feel the familiar knot in your belly tighten and it’s fast approaching. “You– You’re being mean… I just wanna cum…”

He tuts into your ear when he comes up. “I’m not being mean,” he denies, but when he catches your gaze and sees how your eyes are welling with tears more from the sheer intensity and pleasure he’s made you feel, he tones the mean-ish façade down a notch. “Do you think you can last a little longer for me, sweetheart?”

He turns the vibrator off momentarily to hear your response.

His question sounded like a tease of whether you could keep up, but he was also genuinely asking for your consent to continue. He got so absorbed in this that he wasn’t checking in that much. He was so whooped and so lost in trying to make you feel good that he wasn’t even considering how you felt.

You gulp, “Just– I need–”

He nods. “It’s okay, take a breath. Take your time.”

Soft kisses are planted along your inner thighs as you try to compose yourself, catching your breath. His fingers are brushing over any marks he’s left along the way. His thumbs draw little circles into your hips; this was always something he did to help ground you.

Shit, what was happening before all this? Were you trying to study or something? Yikes.

Your fingers begin combing through his black tresses as a silent way of saying you’re okay to continue. Still, he wants to be sure.

“Think you can go on?” You nod. “That’s my girl, don’t worry. You’re doing so well for me.”

There’s not much speaking after that. It’s damn near impossible to stay quiet as the coil in your tummy tightens and tightens. It’s not like this was your student dorm though where you had to be quiet; Levi lived by himself in an apartment complex with thick walls. Your cries are laden with frustration as you’re so, so close – so close to falling off the edge–

He’s unable to control the grinding of his hips now. Rutting desperately, imagining it’s your cunt even though it’s so far off from being anything close to it. He wants to be inside you, shit, he needs to be inside you–

Your body arcs and your hand comes down to hold Levi in place and he’s truly unable to suppress the groan as he soils his pants. Your chest is heaving, forehead beading sweat and pupils blown as your clit continues to throb and pulsate. You’re seeing stars from this orgasm, a warm, fuzzy heat spreading throughout your body. His mouth moves to place a few kisses around your throbbing cunt until your hips jerk away from him.

Aftercare consists of him fetching you a glass of water from the jug that is now routinely kept full in his bedroom for any future midnight escapades. He kisses life back into your limbs and one to your forehead before wiping you down with a damp cloth.

A hand moves to cradle your jaw as he asks, “Oi, where’s that head of yours at?”

“Not…” you pause, panting too much to say anything remotely coherent, “...not in my studies.”

kinda wanna do a series of professor!levi drabbles (smut and fluff... and angst) sorry let me live my life as i ride the professor!levi train. all aboard~

-cece <3

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman smut #levi #levi ackerman x you #shingeki no kyojin #aot #attack on titan #captain levi #snk #cece; speaks #husbando tag <3 #m.dni #i cannot put into words how badly i want him to eat my asfvv while he grinds into the bedsheets til he cums ok???#thanks #didnt like the ending but i suck at endings and yall should be used to that by now

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peace-for-levi · 2 years

Note

happy 600 cece!!!

from the dissociation prompts… “Don’t touch me” and “Did I zone out?”

in canonverse❤️❤️

with levi comforting gn reader🥺

HI BBY!!!!! <3333 thanks a bunch for your request; our favourite type of fic -- dissociation !!!

warnings: heavy descriptions of dissociation, implied sensory overload, hange is a GOOD BEAN, levi doing his best lmao.

word count: 1,752

tagging: @licuadora-nasir @ackermandick @galactict3a @sckerman @notgoodforlife @maries-gallery @levi-my-beloved

A swift rap on the door gets Levi out of his trance. It's a quick jerking motion – much like when a shiver runs down your spine – that makes the listless motion of signing his name stop momentarily and has him blinking blearily. How many death certificates had he just signed whilst being completely on autopilot? His eyes flickered to the left where the rest of his paperwork remained; budget-related documents (no thanks to Hange's experiments), more death certificates and inventory. His mind momentarily tries to make a plan of what he'll do first and how and it gets so busy, he's forgotten about the knock on his door.

Walls, he was tired. But what did he expect – catching up on paperwork after an expedition was mind-numbingly boring. Although, as far as expeditions go, this expedition was rather successful. So successful, cuts of meat were brought out alongside alcohol. Unfortunately – or perhaps fortunately, given his hate for crowded halls, packed with inebriated teenagers – he was stuck.

The commotion must have died down an hour ago though, he realises, as he hears not a pin drop coming from outside his office. It’s eerily quiet, even; it has him on alert. He hasn’t even heard from you yet, and you’re normally wrapping your arms around him at this point, desperately trying to coax him to come to bed.

A second, more urgent rap on the door brings him to his feet.

“Levi, please.” The voice calls through the wooden door. “It’s kind of urgent.”

So much for the quiet, even if it did have him on edge.

“Alright, Four Eyes, I'm coming,” he grumbled. His chair groans against the wooden floorboards and he’s pattering over to the door. He thinks in that split second that it is rare that Hange uses this concerned tone with him. Normally, they’re banging down on his doors, begging him for the use of his squad. The door creaks as it’s opened. “What do you need, Four Eyes?”

Hange is chewing on their lower lip and pointing towards the direction of the Mess Hall, and whatever urgency he picked up in their voice from outside the door has been amplified tenfold. “They, uh… It’s [F/n].”

His eyes widen and he’s sprinting. Hange is quickly running behind them.

The Mess Hall has long since been vacated, though there is still evidence that a major celebration took place. Plates are stacked high that’ll definitely need clearing in the morning, but at least the soldiers had the common decency to clear away the bottles. Still, the sheer amount of people that must have been in here, though. All of the cheering, singing, celebrating; the clang of metal cutlery, people chewing and bringing their bottles together as they shout ‘cheers!’ and dance around. Slipping and falling. Screaming and laughing. Being so, so loud. Way too loud… So many people.

No wonder you’d walked off somewhere.

The breeze he was met with once he had skidded to halt outside the Mess Hall brought a sense of balance and tranquillity. He stopped to breathe and scan the area. He swept his bangs out of his face whilst relishing the crisp air. This was far nicer than inside the sweltering, sweaty Mess Hall.

He doesn’t blame you for walking off. The only problem was did you realise you had walked off? Hange had found you outside, sitting with your legs brought to your chest so clearly not. Walking away and shutting off was your way of coping. Everyone had their own methods, be it alcohol or women, to burying themselves in their work or turning to far more illicit substances. It could have been the noise that triggered this, it could have been seeing someone there who brought up painful memories, or even being reminded that you could no longer celebrate with someone who lost their lives on yesterday’s expedition.

Whatever the case may be, your mind did the hard work for you; it was when you were feeling everything that it was so easy to slip into the enveloping warmth of numbness. It was so easy to just feel nothing.

You vaguely make out the appearance of your lover. He has to swallow down whatever he was going to say (if he was going to say anything) because the look of nothing in your eyes that normally radiate so much warmth and energy always stuns him. Before he can reel himself in, he is reaching out to you.

“Don’t touch me.” You quickly snap, just vaguely registering his approaching hand.

He quickly withdraws and opts to just sit on his haunches before you. In the meantime, Hange has stepped outside with a canteen of water. It’s placed next to you and Levi nods in thanks, momentarily regretting how harshly he spoke to them, before they walk away and leave you too.

You asked not to be touched, he must honour that but he needs to get through to you somehow. He edges closer slightly. But it’s hard; it aches him to see you stare so vacantly at him.

“[F/n].” He calls out. You only blink in response, and even then, it’s probably a coincidence. Should he try again?

His voice breaks whatever barrier your brain has temporarily constructed. “Le–Levi…”

He nods. “That’s right, I’m here.” He shuffles closer. “How long have you been out in the cold?”

Do you even comprehend what he just said? He’s still in the dark on how to handle you like this.

Cold, did he say? Huh… you raise your hand against the myriad of stars on their black canvas. You seem to feel a breeze.

Cold, the breeze is cold.

Say, when did the sun even set…?

Your brain is slowly piecing together bits of your environment like a jigsaw, but altogether in context, it makes no sense still. Everything is fragmented and looks so wrong; your vision is stretched, you can only see a few feet in front of you. The appearance of Levi is slight against your failing sight. You have to blink rapidly to focus on anything he says.

“What…?” you call out, face blank. You’re not even looking at him.

He shuffles closer, now leaning on his knees, hands pressed on his lap. “How long have you been out here in the cold, hmm?” he asks, a little louder.

“Is…”

He waits patiently as you stammer, eyes watching every micromovement. He brings a hand to your shoulder – the movement is slow and steady this time – and he starts to rub your bicep up and down, and you sink into this gesture.

“Is… what?” he tries.

Your eyes are now welling with tears. Fuck, why is it you want to cry?

“Is… is it happening again? Did I zone out?” you ask.

Levi moves to cup your cheeks. He waits for resistance, but you seemed to be responding with touch now. Good.

You’re looking at him now, though if he was being honest, you were looking through him. He just nods, candidly. “Yeah, you have. Can you stand?” Immediately, you try to jump to your feet, no longer wanting to be numb anymore; searching for feeling. You wobble and it’s as if your feet can’t brace your weight. Levi was standing with you, waiting to hold you in case you fell. “Easy, [F/n]. Easy.”

At this point, fat tears are rolling down your cheeks. He walks you, arms holding you secure as you babble, confused. “Levi…?”

“What is it?” he says, guiding you back to his office. That was the safest bet. Would a bath do you some good, would that bring you back? He knows that sometimes ‘sleeping it off’ was all that you could manage. Tea might be a good idea first. He doesn’t show it – he never does – but his mind is running in circles. He turns you into the direction of the corridor after you have walked through the Mess Hall. “Do you recognise this place?”

You shake your head, a pained sob bubbling up from your throat. The sense of vertigo whirls around in your head as your eyes try to focus on everything you see, seeking some semblance of familiarity. It’s all so foreign, though. Nothing looks right. Nothing looks real.

Everything looks wrong.

Levi sighs deeply through his nose as he holds your hand, freeing his other to unlock the door to his room.

“Okay,” he breathes, and he’s guiding you again now, this time towards the bed. He props up all his pillows and he unbuttons the top two buttons of your white shirt. His movements are hasty but still gentle. When he speis your body closing in on itself in raw, unadulterated fear, he’s holding you by the shoulders again. “Recite everything you know.”

“I don’t think I–”

“Your name is…?” and he pauses to allow you to finish the sentence.

“[F/n] [L/n].”

He nods. “And where do you come from?”

“Where I come fr–? Oh… W-Wall Rose…” you mumble. You don’t think you can continue. You grab one of his hands on your shoulders and you squeeze hard. Levi doesn’t say or do anything apart from bite his lower lip. “I don’t like this…”

“Like what?”

“Feeling like this.”

He can only nod but as he does so, he feels his heart splinter. “I know. It’s uncomfortable, I know.”

That’s all he can say – what else can he say? He can’t make this feeling go away, but he will stay by your side until it does? Still, as irrational as the feeling may be, it eats him up inside that there’s very little he can do except try to convince you to take a bath, or drink tea or fall asleep and then just hope you feel okay.

“Can you… hold me?”

That, he can absolutely do.

Held against his chest and listening to his pulse, you started to fall asleep as you listed everything you saw in his room; the quenched candles on his drawers, the pile of Scout uniform patches, the clock, his cloak in the hamper. He scratches his nails across your scalp, breathing deeply. Even in your hazy state, you could feel the clouds in your head dissipate slowly.

“Thank you, Levi.” You look up at him now; the twinkle is back in your eyes.

He kisses your forehead in response. “Anytime.”

145 notes · View notes

peace-for-levi · 2 years

Text

we know it's thick

#don't even have to specify what it is i am talking about #(for the ppl not clued in a shirtless levi figure dropped)#cece; speaks #m.dni #husbando tag <3 #levi ackerman

58 notes · View notes

levmada · 2 years

Note

HOMIE I AM LIVING FOR THIS EVENT 😩

naturally i have picked something from the dissociation section (and canonverse pls.) namely the: "I... don't know how I got here." and *checks bank account* €7.98 if you can guess which character i want (levi)

do we give info on the potential specifics? i remember one night when my dissociation was REALLY bad, way back then, and i, unbeknownst to myself, walked out of my apartment at 3AM and sat by the bridge. not to do anything. i just... sat there. because being in my head - while in my bedroom - was too much and my body acted accordingly i suppose.

but yeah. reader having a hard time in canonverse for whatever reason and when it gets "bad" they go on walks. levi notices reader leaving and goes to find them (maybe they are up on the Wall?) and tries to get them to come back inside so he can help/try comfort them 🥺🥺🥺🥺

i added dissociation hurt/comfort for a reason😌 thank you for the specifics<33 i think this turned out amazing. pls lmk what u think cece!!!

content/warnings: HEAVY descriptions/themes of dissociation, hurt/comfort, canonverse, mention of death/blood

wc: ~1.2k

You don’t cope like normal people. Not after all the strife you have witnessed, fought, and survived in your lifetime.

You’ve leafed through medical textbooks, you’ve heard testimonies from other soldiers (without sharing your own experiences), and you know that once your mind can once again accept reality as real, then that is exactly what it is.

But it’s so easy to forget, to slip, to recede into a place at the back of your mind. You’re well-aware that it’s a prison, but you’re content not to escape because the feelings that wait when you’re free again are much worse than that small, colorless cage.

It’s so easy to forget.

In a fleeting moment of faint realization, you glance down at your dark, dirty boots, and the creaky wood you stand upon. That slight weightless feeling isn’t just you; you’re on a lift, wooden boxes of sorts that are attached to the Walls so that supplies can be transported to the top, and also soldiers, horses, and people... And...

And by extension, you notice your hands. They’re stained dark maroon in places by crusty, dried blood—random gore that only leaving the Walls gives you.

Did you return home today?—When? The memories are lost on you, you realize. You can’t recall a single conversation, action, or feeling.

Is this a dream? Is that the night breeze gently rolling across your face?

You want to cry, but you don’t know why.

Upon stepping off the lift, you accept the nighttime sky without processing how late it is. It’s colored an inky black, littered by a blanket of stars.

So it’s nighttime. Maybe you got back today.

Did we just get back? you wonder, but then you link your hands to scrape the dried blood from your cuticles and forget the question.

At night, torches light each checkpoint following down the Wall. No guards are ever needed at night, however, not when the Titans are “asleep”.

You now know for certain that you didn’t have a conversation with one of the Garrison that you can’t remember.

Even without light, it’s an easy path to keep to as long as you stare down at the unsteady steps your body makes. You find yourself doing that anyway. The clean, night air is enough relief from pain.

Like the aching soles of your feet (I'm still wearing my harness), and your twitchy fingers (Where is my ODM?), and your chest. What feels like a thick obsidian stone sits under your throat. Raw. Hurts.

You want to cry, but you don’t know why.

The constant sense of still dizziness whirls around inside your mind as you yourself are whirled around, and stilled. You blink rapidly, trying to catch up with yourself.

Levi, his appearance lackluster through the dark, says your name like a curse. With his arms outstretched like that, you gather he’s holding your shoulders.

You don’t fight. Even if you wanted, you don’t think you can.

“Hey.” A perpetual worry line sits between his brow.

Why is his hair damp?

“You shouldn't be up here without any gear.”

You blink, absently, and glance down at yourself. “I—I don’t know where it is.”

But he knows why you’re here, because he knows you.

It doesn’t have to be the deaths of two of your squad members after a torturous two weeks in Titan country to get you “out of sorts”, as you say.

It’s easy for the mind to escape somewhere when the body can’t, whenever it’s in a situation the mind can’t stand to be. Extraordinarily so.

As an automatic defense mechanism, it’s fickle by nature, and triggered like a switch: whether it’s shoved or tapped, gentle or frantic, you can’t help it. Simply stress—drowning in paperwork you're doing all wrong, a broken piece of equipment, even an argument—is enough.

He took endless care in learning all this for you.

You tend to go on walks when you get like this, but he knows it’s worse tonight, because you were supposed to clean up after he was finished in the bathroom. However, when he stepped out, you were simply gone.

He had insisted you stay with him—all your tells are obvious to him—but you wanted to be alone, or so you said. It was a mistake to listen to you.

Sighing deeply through his nose, he tells you,“We got back this afternoon, that’s why your gear’s missing. I’m gonna cuff you to me on every one of your walks from now on as long as they have you doing dangerous shit like this.”

You suck a balmy breath through your teeth, trying to process.

“Do you understand me?” With a squeeze of your shoulders, he pulls you a little closer. He might as well be holding you up.

You shake your head like you’re fighting some resistance in the air to do so. “I… don’t know how I got here.”

“I’m not blaming you.”

Levi takes a quick glance around again. He can’t stop himself despite the fact that neither of you have moved since he caught up to you. Neither of you are wearing ODM—because how could he have anticipated this?—and he’s cautious by nature.

He proceeds to have you recite your full name, your age, and your rank. When your birthday is, and your shirt size, dammit. These episodes you go through worry him at the best of times.

You get them all right, even though you’re a little slow to answer.

Dried blood adheres to his clean hand that he linked with yours and told you to squeeze like your life depended on it; even squeeze the life out of him, if you like. Reminders like this help to coax you out of it.

“Do you know who I am?” he asks quietly.

“L-Levi.” You jerk your head up and down in a nod, but then your jaw stammers. “I... I wanna go home,” you whisper, cracked.

Tenderly, he pushes your messy bangs from your face, pasted to your skin by sweat and blood. “That’s the plan. I’ve got you.”

“Okay.”

As he cups your cheek, your hands still clutched like two vices, you practically fall on it.

“Relax.” Reverently, he leans in and kisses your forehead. “If I’m here, you’re gonna be safe no matter what happens. Do you understand?”

You nod again, steered along with help from his free arm he holds your waist with. So protectively, your sides touch.

Levi, simply the sight of him, and his strong, warm hold, just the sound of his light steps, the scent of cedar and lemon in his hair—they help. You feel yourself gently encouraged into a state of drowsiness rather than coma.

You’re exhausted.

You step onto the lift together. The long walk to reach it escapes you, so you lean into him. He can hold you up all by himself, if you needed him too.

“What… are we doing after this?” you ask quietly. You crave something to hang onto for the future so you aren’t confined to drifting through the motions.

“We’re going to get you clean,” he replies without pause. “And then we’re going to get some food in your stomach, and go to bed.”

That is more than enough, as expected of Levi, who never fails to give you everything he has.

“Okay,” you murmur, understanding. You tighten your hold. “Okay.”

Enter the event here!

#levi ackerman x you #aot fluff #levi ackerman fluff #levi x you #levi drabble #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #levi fluff #levi ackermann x reader #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi ackerman #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you #aot fic #1k.event #g.scribe #moots: cece

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peace-for-levi · 2 years

Text

Morgen; Chapter 3: Wird die Sonne wieder scheinen

Synopsis: reader’s mind is plagued with thoughts of their childhood and after weeks of routine established between reader and levi, he is surprised when they don’t get out of bed. Levi, not knowing any better, assumes it is menstrual cramps. He also tries gelato for the first time!

Content warning: soooorta exposition-heavy chapter, but it should tie in. child abuse (implied physical, emotional and verbal), it’s mentioned levi takes pain medication occasionally, abandonment issues, intense mourning, a bit of a breakdown, terminal illness mentions, levi having horny thoughts that he shouldn’t have

taglist: @wortverlust (jo has done some AMAZING artwork for this), @levmada (a massive thank-you for editing and beta-reading some of this) @levi-my-beloved (an even BIGGER thank you for beta-reading the rest of it iN ONE SITTING) @starstruckkittensweets @notgoodforlife @galactict3a @sckerman @ackermandick @licuadora-nasir @maries-gallery

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(Insolent child… Insolent child…)

You could never remember how your father looked. Not that you wanted to.

He was an angry man with angry eyes, with brows always knit together. Crows feet were stabbed at the corner of his eyes from faking jovial smiles to the neighbours as if he wasn’t like a ticking bomb waiting to explode just moments before.

(Good for nothing…)

You were always okay, though.

You lived on a small farmstead surrounded by lilies and tulips and bright daisies. You spent your days in the garden reading or sketching after tending to the garden. The garden was so lively and buzzing with activity, it was as if the goddess Flora herself had blessed this piece of haven herself. Your mom was a florist and apothecary owner while your dad worked on the farm, and your grandmother lived not too far away. She had been getting a bit frail, so she moved closer to your family.

You had your mother and grandmother. So, you were fine. Great, even.

Plus, out in the flowers, nothing bothered you. No thoughts could reach you while you admired their splendour and beauty.

(Dirty animal…)

Animals liked you too, especially the sheep. You could rest your head on top of them as you laid in the overgrown grass, hiding from everything and everyone. You just had to crouch down a bit here and there when your dad came.

It was one night at around the age of seven or eight when you sauntered back inside. Dusk had been setting, fireflies were dancing among the barley grass. That usually meant it was dinner time.

When you closed the door behind you, there was a suitcase by the front room. You looked on ahead and noticed your mom in the small, cramped kitchen. She was stirring the pot and normally when you came in, you’d greet her with a relieved smile.

You had come back, thank the Walls.

For it wasn’t the first time - nor the last - you announced you were running away. And she knew your convictions: if push came to shove, you’d do it. You had done it.

(Everything’s your fault.)

Granted, you only ran a block away to your grandmother’s house, and that was always your mom’s first idea on where you’d disappear to.

That night, though, she looked terribly frightened.

You sat down at the table as a bowl of chunky vegetable stew was placed in front of you. You babbled away about the flowers that bloomed, about the sunshine that shone brightly today in the garden that made for good reading light—and she saw that same sun shining in yours.

Her lower lip trembled when she noted the few gashes and bruises that dotted your arm, like blotched paint on a canvas. Purple, red and blue. She knew where they had come from, but she didn’t want to admit it herself.

You rambled on and on. “--And then, the moon followed me all the way home!”

She looks up from her stew. “I told the moon to do that,” she says to you, softly, “and he listened to me because he likes you. So, if you’re ever lost, talk to the moon and see if he’s there.”

You flashed a toothy grin (you had lost one of your front teeth recently) and she remained silent after that. Her hands were shaking.

“Mom, are you cold?” you had asked.

She stood up and looked at you, and you could see tears welling in her eyes. She shuffled away, hands slipping under the sleeves of her pillowy cardigan as she closed the door to the kitchen. She panicked. She was unable to deal with this any longer.

She had cracked.

You finished your dinner and walked out to the hall.

The suitcase was gone.

You blinked owlishly, pattering into the living room where the angry man stirred the fire. The coal rocks sparked embers as they fell and collided against each other and the whole room felt way too hot.

Suffocating, stifling.

You couldn’t breathe.

“She’s gone, you know.” The angry man said.

“...What?”

“She’s gone. She’d still be here if you weren’t such a leech.” He said.

Now, it was even harder to breathe. Any breath you tried to let out got lodged in your throat.

You brought your hand to your chest and coughed, tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

No, no, no!

You were fine if she was there. Maybe she went to your grandmother’s house as well? But, would she go to your father’s mother’s house? Perhaps not. Where was she going? Why did she need a suitcase? How much had she packed?

“You’re nothing more than a fucking brat, you get that through your head,” he snarled. He whirled around angrily, but you had already ran out of the room, up the stairs, and locked the door to your room.

That night, you stayed up to see if she would come back from your grandmother’s, or from her walk.

She didn’t.

You sat by that window for hours on end, looking for any signs of movement. From the wind blowing through the fuchsia bushes, or the sound of footsteps against the dirt path. Or, or the sound of the neighbours talking with full baskets in hand, having just come back from the nearby fishing town for food.

(Your fault. It’s all your fault.)

(She couldn’t stay because of you, couldn’t put up with you.)

(You’ll never see her again.)

Maybe a week had passed, or two - or could it have been a month? You had stopped counting - before you saw her again. Suitcase was back and it had been wheeled up the dirt path, leaving a trail behind her. Evidence that she had left you. Abandoned you.

When would she leave again?

How long was she here to stay this time?

(Would it be my fault if she left?)

It was a baseless argument, maybe even an insult from your dad, but to your young brain, it made perfect sense. He was the parent, you were the child; there didn’t need to be any logic or sense behind his words. You just had to listen to him because he was right and you were wrong.

You couldn’t identify how or what you were feeling—but it hurt. There was a pain in your chest and a throb in your head when you saw her at the bottom of the staircase, smiling at you as if nothing had happened. Her arms were opened wide, waiting to embrace you.

But you didn’t run down the stairs like you normally would. She noted this and dropped her arms, but she said to meet her in the garden.

That flowery heaven where strangely all the bad things of this life vanished, where you felt so at ease.

Daisies were your favourite. There was something so simplistic about them, not too fanciful like other flowers. Similar to how you were simplistic in your needs and wishes. You just needed your mom, your flowers, a book, and somewhere away from the angry man who caused so much chaos and destruction. He was the stormy cloud that’d wash away a spring’s gift of blossoms, awash down the field and utterly destroyed for the next season, for the ground would be sopping wet all year.

Your mother stood before you in the middle of the field, bending down to shoo the stray chicken that had wandered in away. Her hair was flowing free, and there was no hunch in her back the way there normally was. She looked so free, so relaxed and content.

What was happening?

She heard you approaching and walked over to you slowly, testing the waters. Nevertheless, she pulled you into her arms but you stopped at nothing to break free.

You didn’t want to be hugged right now. You’re immediately fighting the hug, thrashing about in her arms and punching. This wasn’t fair. She couldn’t just hug you now.

“Why?! Why would you leave me?!” you screeched. Your voice cracked, tears flowing unabashedly down your face.

But she hugged you tight, and you felt so secure. A sense of peace had returned to you that you had been missing for god knows how long. She held you tighter and tighter until you stopped resisting.

You didn’t hug her back, though. Your arms just fell to your sides. It was a few moments of silence before you piped up again. “Are… Are you leaving again soon?”

“Yes, darling, I am,” she expressed, but there was something in her tone you didn’t appreciate. Happiness? Relief? Your face scrunched up with a sour expression, until she said, “But you’ll be coming with me this time.”

You stepped back. “Huh?”

Your whole life up until now, you had held the understanding that you were some sort of loathed pest. You were keeping your father tied to your family when he probably never wanted a wife and kids anyway. You weren’t needed.

Not even wanted.

But… now? Your mother was taking you away from it all? Surely it meant you were wanted, and loved, and the opposite of everything your father had beat into you.

She explained it’d be a house in Shiganshina that you’d move to. Her flower and herbal shop would be just around the corner, and your grandmother would be living with you two as well.

It seemed like everything would be okay.

But every night once you moved… you would check the closets for a packed suitcase religiously. She had packed her bags before and left when it got hard - even if it was to prepare for your new chapter here…

Similarly, you would wake up ahead of everyone to make sure nobody had left in the middle of the night or that there was no suitcase by the door.

After all, what would stop them from leaving? Everybody else seemed to.

How long had it been since you saw them last… ten years, no?

Both you and Levi had to get used to your separate routines fairly quickly. You had no choice in the matter.

Levi had to accept that you would get up later and would spend way too much time in the shower in the morning. He doesn’t know why it takes so long to wash yourself when he is in and out within three minutes.

But you made breakfast, so he didn’t mind (at least not too much.) Levi liked cooking - you gathered this from all the cookbooks on his table - but seldom used the ingredients in the cupboards (he claimed they were for when he was feeling ‘adventurous’ or ‘bored beyond reason.’) When you found out he was more than happy to eat just canned foods, you nearly flipped. When you first found out, you insisted on making breakfast the next day and that became your routine.

He didn’t mind. Eggs fried in the fat of bacon with some fresh fruit from the night before? Major upgrade from peanut butter and pinto beans (yes, he really wasn’t adventurous in the kitchen. Especially after learning that you needed butter AND milk to make decent mashed potatoes.) Levi would always make the tea though. Usually it was just for himself, though. You had to put on your ‘big girl pants’ to make some for yourself. But if he was feeling generous, he’d brew a whole pot.

Breakfast was always prepared as he showered, which meant waiting for you to use the bathroom first. But wow, did you take forever. So as it would happen, he would just be sitting there with damp hair dripping down the back of his shirt. If he stands up to swap out a new book to read, you can sometimes see his back muscles through the shirt and you have caught yourself ogling him every now and then.

You felt no shame in it; he was an attractive man after all. And besides, ogling to the point of burning an egg only happened once or twice!

He’d quickly scold you for wasting his eggs though and start moaning about your apparent idleness in the shower, when he was in the mood to moan.

(“Levi, it’s called a ‘cleanse.’”)

(“Cleanse? Well, yes, dummy, you do clean yourself in the shower. But it doesn’t have to take more than twenty minutes.”)

(“...I have a process.”)

And your process also meant clogging up whatever space on his bathroom shelves you could find. Levi was a simple man, happy with just his aftershave, razor, pair of nail-clippers and various soaps and prescribed salves for his leg. But you came home one day after your first noticeable profit with tons of lotions and creams and moisturisers.

He thinks they’re all pointless. But he doesn’t tell you that.

He also understands there are different beauty standards here; he notices women need to hold themselves to higher standards set by men that sometimes they can’t even maintain. The time spent in the shower during their so-called ‘cleanse’ to make themselves look nice, to wearing makeup nearly every goddamn day, choosing what clothes to go with what shoes–

He gets a headache thinking about it. He just hopes you’re happy with your appearance, hopes you see yourself the way he sees you. He'd hate nothing more than for you to feel insecure, because he truly feels you have no need to be. Not that your body image was up to him, or under his control.

After breakfast comes getting dressed, naturally. Levi doesn’t dress up too fancily for work. He eyes his reflection in the hand mirror that is kept in the bedside drawer, checking for any loose stubble that needs to be shaved away that he might have missed. He may not dress too formal for work - a long-sleeved shirt and slacks that are loose enough to wriggle his bad leg into with ease - but that doesn’t mean he isn’t meticulous in his upkeep and appearance.

When you got dressed, you wore a pair of loose culottes - or any pair of pants that were airy and flowy enough to walk around in, since you were on your feet a lot - and any light blouse. Your hair was styled in such a way that it was never dangling in your face.

Sometimes you visit him in the teashop around lunchtime. There’s minimal talking, but as the days go on the silence becomes a more comfortable one. Levi sometimes asks if he can brew you anything as you read your book, and you’re quite content sitting in the cosy little shop, reading and just enjoying the time of just being - something that you were not used to experiencing.

Regardless of whether you two saw each other during work or not, before you start your days, you would always meet in the kitchen and a curt (and a wave from you) nod is exchanged. From you, a, ‘come on, we can still be best friends like old times!’ nod and wave, and from him, an, ‘I’ll nod because that’s all I can manage without stumbling like a lovestruck fool’ kind of gesture.

And a lovestruck fool he is.

He realises this the morning you don’t get out of bed and make breakfast. When you don’t waste all the hot water either, or how you don’t wave him goodbye in the morning.

He feels almost empty without you that morning as he makes his own eggs and bacon. They’ll wake up in just a bit, they probably overslept, he tells himself.

Besides, he sometimes required an extra pair of hands in the morning - be it from Onyankopon, Gabie or Falco (though naturally as his flatmate, you were the easiest to ask) - and when the clock chimes 7.30AM and you’re still not awake, Levi thinks he’s on his own. He didn’t hear the squeak of the shower door at ten minutes to eight, so he knew for certain he had to get moving.

Levi is used to shuffling up and down the stairs now, even if it takes him a few minutes. You had mentioned in passing about moving two blocks down that had an apartment on the ground floor to rent, but Levi felt a bit too comfortable here. Yes, he was, in his own way, comfortable taking five minutes walking down a flight of stairs (with the help of some pain medication.) Maybe he was just tired of change.

He feels that this morning when he’s a few minutes late to opening because he normally has an extra pair of hands helping him set up. Not to mention this morning, his leg was killing him. He hobbles over to the door as best as he can and unlocks it before going back behind the countertop. Immediately he is faced with a queue of people waiting to be seated. If he had a few more minutes to mentally prepare, he’d be in a better mood. The scowl is written all over his face from the furrow of his thin brows, to his signature pout.

Ackerman’s is quite famous in downtown Marley and some people have come to accept that Levi isn’t fantastic at customer service, but they also know that he has been through a lot. These are the people who see him beyond ‘just’ an Eldian.

He sees a regular customer and her daughter; Claudia and her five-year-old, Alina, hand-in-hand as they call for their usual. Levi tries to wipe the sour look from his face and goes to make the jasmine tea for the mother and black tea with a drop of fresh milk for the girl. However slow his brain or body works, tea does come natural to him. He’s had more practice since the war ended, it’s like a sixth sense for him now more than ever.

He limps over - he does feel it’s important to serve the customers when his leg allows it - with the tray in his hand. Though he’s no longer a soldier and his leg now makes him unbalanced, he walks (or tries to) with purpose. He feels he owes everyone that much; he feels he owes everyone the best version of himself because he always had to be the best, for the sake of everyone else.

He is going to lean down to set the tray onto the table when it happens. White-hot pain shoots up his bad leg and in that instant he’s tossed the tray the other way - he couldn’t afford to drop it haphazardly on the table and burn his customers. That would spell a lawsuit he definitely did not have the money for.

The pain doesn’t stop though; it’s agonising, throbbing and he loses his balance. The tea has now poured into a puddle on the floor of scalding hot liquid, but unfortunately it’s Levi’s hands that break the fall for him. His palms land into the tea, splashing against his pale, blue shirt and he feels the searing liquid burn his hands that are keeping his body upright. Pain overrules everything and all of sudden, everything is too loud and bright. He feels stuck.

He’s unable to get up, his leg hurts that bad.

He hears the mother he was going to serve tea yell at him to get up and she’s scrambling around to pick up the broken shards (that thankfully didn’t stab him on top of getting burned.)

Fuck his leg.

Fuck his limited physical capabilities.

Fuck Eren for causing this.

Fuck the Titans.

Fuck you for not getting up in time and being so selfish, because he feels this all could have been prevented. But of course, the rational side of his brain kicks in still; his leg was probably going to give out today regardless of whether you got up or not, it’s just that timing wasn’t on his side. Was it ever?

“Mister Levi, let me help you!” a familiar voice brings him back. Levi looks up, his arms now trembling over the complex storm of emotions that courses through him. Emotions he can’t currently identify. “Falco, get the wheelchair out of the storeroom.”

In a matter of minutes, he’s hoisted back up onto the chair and wheeled behind the counter while Gabie cleans up everything. And suddenly, it’s like nothing happened at all. Gabie has learned to clean well with her constant visits here.

It takes a few minutes for Levi to work through the feelings of his own inadequacy before he is able to speak again. “It’s Saturday, you guys should be enjoying the weekend together.” He chastises.

Gabie and Falco glance at each other and Falco shrugs a bit, offering to run up and get him a spare shirt or his pain medication, but Levi says he has a spare down here already and that he’s taken a tablet not even an hour ago. Gabie analyses his hands and gasps audibly at the blistering, peeling skin on the heels of his palms. She cries his name and flicks on the tap, frigid cold water gushes out and she is holding his hands.

If Levi didn’t feel like a burden before, he definitely felt like one now.

“Levi, where’s [F/n]? I thought you both worked? We just passed her shop and–”

“She’s in bed.” He grunted, and Gabie is the one who puts two and two together first. “It’s whatever.”

“Mm, don’t think so,” Gabie sang back. It was definitely not whatever. “Is she sick– Falco, don’t just stand there, serve some customers!” she barked. Falco, who had just been standing there watching Gabie tend to Levi’s hands, immediately scrambled to serve customers. Gabie turned back to the older man again, inspecting his hands - the burns were already clearing up. “So, is she sick?”

“Didn’t check.”

Gabie deadpanned. “I feel like I’m talking to a moody teenager here, even though you’re like, I don’t know, four times my age or something?!”

“More like just over twice. You’re fifteen. Late thirties is not that old.” He retorted.

“It’s teetering on the edge of ‘basically ancient’, but my point is: aren’t you old enough to have the freakin’ decency to ask? What if she’s really sick up there?” she asked flippantly, hand extended out. She was scolding him like a child! She can see in his eyes that there is some guilt - everyone knows he doesn’t have it easy. From his leg to his inner demons, to managing a tea shop, perhaps it slipped his mind to actually check in on you. His mind doesn’t work as fast as it used to; whether it was because his mind had simply slowed down or his Ackerman abilities were no longer (as) active, he didn’t know.

Levi wheels back from the sink after ten minutes, reaching for a towel to dry his hands. Gabie had set a two minute egg-timer and flipped it five times. There was no getting away with anything half-assed with her around, even if she was as young as she was. In the meantime, Falco served everyone and came back with the orange tube of painkillers.

“Mister Levi, you can take another. This is one or two as needed every four to six hours.”

“I don’t want to.” He replied and went back to preparing an order that was to be shipped out. He could feel Gabie’s gaze piercing him from behind. He stops and clarifies: “I don’t want to become dependent on them.”

“Levi.” Gabie muttered, warning him not to test her patience.

It was very hard to keep going back and forth with Gabie Braun, Levi learned this very quickly after being more involved in her life after the war. Because sure enough, after the painkillers were taken, he was back on his two feet and knocking on your door. He lets out a ‘tch’ when you don’t answer the door or show signs that you were… well, alive. He presses his ear up against the door just in case you were throwing clothes about or shuffling around to get dressed, but he is met with a deafening silence.

He twists the knob of your door and searches for your figure in the murky darkness of your room. He hobbles over and peers at you through menacing eyes of mercury. Analytical, judgemental and cynical. He truly feels betrayed this morning, even if the fall and burns on his hands were down to fate and not down to you sleeping in.

He peels back the comforter revealing your pathetic form. He thinks he hears you sniffling.

“I knew you were awake. I needed you this morning,” he says in a huff. He retrieves the long pole that you left by the door and pulls open the skylights. He hears you shuffle about, dragging your legs up to your chest, lying in a foetal position. Yes, the man’s heart often bled for you but at this moment, it held no sympathy. “The hell’s up with you?”

You sniffle, your eyes clamping shut. “Sick.”

“What?”

“I’m sick.”

Your tone was purely monotonous and devoid of any pep or enthusiasm. Levi merely quirks a thin brow and comes back. It’s rare he sees you in this state, but he’s seen it before. After Neil died - even if the marriage was… messy, to put it politely - you locked yourself in your room for ages. He may have seen you in this state once already, but does that mean he can be particularly helpful? But what if you were genuinely sick? He has never seen you ill before.

“Are you actually sick?” he asks as he stands up again. When you nod, he leans forward to press the backs of his fingers to your forehead. “No temperature.”

You shrivel up even more. Are you cold, perhaps? He shakes out your blanket and drapes it over you again, tucking your bare feet in. You give another few sniffles and he feels his heart hurting at the sight. “Sleep it off, then, I guess…”

After fetching you a glass of water and leaving it on your bedside locker, he drags the blinds closed again and your room is enshrouded in darkness once more. He shuts the door gently behind him and while it’s a struggle, he returns down to the tea shop. Gabie and Falco are waiting in suspense.

“Well?” comes Gabie.

“Sick, I told you.” Levi replies.

Gabie purses her lips and, with a gasp, “Oh, I get it now!”

“What?” says Levi.

“Has she done this before? She normally locks herself away when–” Gabie pauses to clap when the reason hits her. “She’s on her period!” she whisper-hisses. “Falco, mind the store, Levi and I are heading out!”

And with that, Levi and Gabie were off to do some errands.

Namely: buying sanitary towels.

When Loneliness first jabs her hand right through your chest, you feel tight and constricted. It’s like a knife that twists and twists, and you can’t pull it out. It sinks in further, plunges deep into your soul and spreads like a wildfire. It feels like you have spent the day drowning. You’re suffocating and clawing for breath inside the covers of your bed.

To love is to have emotional vulnerability, and so without it there can only be a lonely existence. But if loneliness hurt this bad, was the act of loving even worth it?

When did the seed of loneliness plant itself so deep within you that it feels wholly unescapable?

You reach your hand out as if there is another to pull you out of your bed and out of your head. Your fist locks however, realising no matter how long it has been, you’ll always end up back here.

It’s silly, you think, moping out not being able to feel whole and full, when those emotions are only meant to be fleeting. As humans, one could say we are conditioned to always strive for happiness and a sense of longing, regardless of how temporary these feelings are. You know this, so why does it hurt so bad that you just can’t have more of it?

Is it because the war is over? But no one is really ‘right in the head’ after that.

(You make a mental note to write to Mikasa, she suffered through this in a way unlike the rest of you. Armin, too, for that matter.)

Is it because your routine is different? No, not really. You love the tranquillity, and the freedom to sleep in just because you can.

Is it because you are used to being lonely around people who are also lonely? After all of the shit you have gone through in your life, it certainly changed you. It changed the way you see people and the way you interact with others. What is that saying… hurt people hurt people? Or perhaps you are more aware of the hurt that festers within others.

Hell, is there even a reason? There might not be. But at least if there was, you could help yourself.

Levi had just interrupted your moping and you could have asked him to help. Although, it has been a while since you asked him for help. The help you asked him for before in the past was usually very hands-on - helping with straps, sitting with each other after an expedition - but feeling sad for no reason?

You roll around in your bed and you feel something hard poke into your backside. You root around and pull out your sketchpad. Your vision bleary, you rub away the sadness and grime and flick through the pages. Drawings of your shop, flowers…

Your mother…

Erwin…

Hange…

You’d think by now you’d be used to riding the waves of grief. You know that you have a strong, strong heart. You see and feel that the pain stands as witness to the loving bond that survives the passing. Long after they’re gone.

Ah, so was this grief?

How long had you been holding this in for?

It takes your brain a moment to flitter back. To hear the bespectacled brunette’s cheery laughter. And you’re sobbing. Grief and Death have walked with you for years. Though those feelings ebb over time, sometimes there is an error or breakdown where it just becomes a little too much. Where your heart is just a little too tired of trying to hold you together like a fine china cup that has been hastily glued back together, to try to face the next hurdle in life.

That’s what you and Levi are: fragments and broken pieces that always had to be glued back together and never given a chance to grieve, feel and rest. You’re gasping in deep strokes; as if your soul needs to bleed an ocean through your eyes. Where grief holds your hand, you’re having trouble finding the flowers it has left behind as memories. That’s all you’re ever left with after all is said and done.

You want to hug your mom and tell her about the flower shop you opened up in her honour. You want Hange to teach you more about human and Titan anatomy. You want more book recommendations from Erwin.

You want, and you want, and you never get it.

It is these tears and hiccups that remind you that you are alive, and it is this sadness that keeps your soul aflame in this furnace of melancholy . It reminds you that you are alive, and you have to sob and gasp and claw at your pillow - screaming, crying out in enraged agony, clawing at whatever resolve you have left - and that you have to go through this ordeal.

You had given yourself a chance to grieve now, now that the Battle of Heaven and Earth had long since concluded. But whereas before there was relief in crying after a loved one died, perhaps the subconscious repression was what kept you ‘there’ and ‘stable.’ Because right now, this does not feel like a big weight is being lifted from your shoulders. It’s gaining and gaining, heavier and heavier, and you’re being dragged down into your memories.

You spot a picture of Levi. It was a quick doodle from the other day.

His eyes are vacant and distant.

Anyone who only knows Levi superficially would think he is an emotionless bastard who’s lost his ability to feel all and any emotion. That the reason he was able to become Humanity’s Strongest was because he had lost himself within that war and as such, was able to bear the suffering of others.

That couldn’t be more untrue.

The latter part is only true, though, because he was emotional. He knows what it is to be human - so incredibly human - but also knows that it is sometimes a luxury.

Levi always had a glimmer in his eyes. He was stoic and abrasive, and you did not want to talk to him in the morning before he had some tea… or indeed in the afternoon before he had some tea… but there was always something there. A sense of drive and purpose.

One might call him a slave to the dead; always having to move forward and fight to give his comrades’ deaths meaning.

But in your sketch - and you remember the way he looked that day too - he looked so painfully hollow. You could count on your right hand the amount of times you have seen him like this. After Isabel and Farlan, after Erwin’s death and Hange’s.

But also…

On your wedding day when he walked you down the aisle to Neil.

“You look beautiful.” He had told you, but his eyes betrayed what came out of his lips. Was he only saying that because it was customary to say that to a bride on her wedding day?

He said this to you as you lifted your veil back and showed him your face that was lightly dusted in make-up. Make-up was a rarity in Wall Rose and it had cost quite a bit of your salary to order some in from Wall Sine. You remember feeling his calloused thumb hold your face as you looked at him with equally vacant eyes.

After all, you were marrying a man you weren’t quite sure if you loved or not.

But he told you to keep going, to keep walking. That your then husband-to-be was waiting for you. Your eyes welled with tears, you remember and you scoff. It’s ironic he told you to go with your husband, despite how visibly against this union he was. Maybe it was acceptance.

You fiddle with the gold band on your finger though. It’s humbling and saddening; you didn’t manage to save him.

Even your husband, whom you didn’t quite love, left you.

Who was next?

Why did there always have to be a next?!

You gasp again and inhale sharply. You could tear the pillow sheets from how hard you’re tugging at them. Your pulse is rapid, hammering. You’re shaking and there is no sign of stopping. Your breaths are pinched, lodged in your throat and small.

I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to be alone, I don’t—

You’re stunned silent by the short man opening the door to your room with a brown paper bag. His brows are knitted together and a frown tugs at his lower lip

“I can hear you sobbing from out in the kitchen. What the hell is up with you?”

[Just before…]

Levi had never been so confused while shopping before. He arrived back in with a brown paper bag, filled with sanitary towels, tampons and snacks.

Gabie kindly wheeled him to the supermarket and took some change from the till. He told Falco to mark down the amount taken.

To clarify: Levi knew what periods were and that women need products to deal with the flow of uterine tissue. However, a lot of these products he hadn’t heard of before. Or at the very least, they weren’t available on Paradis. He knew women in the dorms back at their old base had rag bins, but these new pads - as per what Gabie called them - had adhesive strips to them.

“What are those sticky things at the side?” he had asked Gabie.

“Wings, Levi. Do you think she likes wings?”

“Wings? Like on a bird?”

Needless to say, he was not expecting this sort of culture shock.

It was late enough in the afternoon when he returned with Gabie and he decided he’d had enough of, well, everything, for the day, and told Falco it was okay to close up. He headed up the stairs after sending the teens home.

It had been a long day. He was ready to snooze in front of a book and maybe brew some tea. Even the brown paper bag seemed to be weighing him down; that’s how tired he was.

His shoulders dropped as he let out an exasperated sigh. She was at his door again.

“Levi, good evening.” She smiled.

“Ioana.” He returned. He peered down at her hand that was holding onto the metal railing, like she was holding it there to flaunt off something or holding it there with purpose. He spies the triad of diamonds sitting atop a silver ring. “Congratulations. Seems he finally made the move.”

The brunette smiled warmly at him, but there was a hint of… something underneath it. And he just couldn’t quite pinpoint what that something was. But he didn’t like it. Then again, who was he to cast judgement on anyone in a city he was only barely familiar with? He was the strange one here. His new roommate? Even stranger.

The lady before him was dressed in a long fur coat that grazed her knees. She was the epitome of beauty and elegance, wearing an obscenely wide hat that framed her angular face. He could still see her obsidian eyes peer through the decorative netting. She always dressed in finery and heels that made her three inches taller than her actual height (though without heels, she’d still be taller than Levi anyway.)

Ioana Meyer was the district’s local representative of sorts for the community. If you had a problem with someone or something, the best course of action would be to write to her and she’d then go through her - now - fiancé who was higher up the chain of command. It seemed politics was going to follow Levi everywhere he went. He didn’t mind too much, but something about such a strict chain of command made him think back to his time in the military; it made him think of Erwin.

He grimaces and takes a deep breath before speaking. “What are you doing here?”

Ioana acknowledges the comment about her beautiful ring first. “It only took his wife dying for him to finally propose to me,” she snuffed. Levi cleared his throat, not wanting to bring too much of his attention to the first part of that comment. “Anyway, I’m here to hand you this.”

Levi takes the envelope and reads the cover. “‘Residents of 1A…’? What’s in this, exactly?” he asked. He could see Ioana was handing a bunch of envelopes, all without being pre stamped by the local post office.

“Don’t worry that little head of yours, Levi. You just fill it out and leave it under the doormat. And leave one for that little florist girlie who just moved in!” she beamed, her melodious voice echoing.

“If this is a census or government form, there’s no need. She lives with me.”

“Ohohohoho, I didn’t think you’d be into girls, Levi!”

“And I didn’t think you’d be the type to be wholly faithful to just one man.” He retorted, a snide reference and jab to her ‘habits’ while in relationships. A gold digger like her never really did the whole ‘commitment’ thing.

She smiled stiffly. “Hmm, well I’m off then. Cheerio!” And with that, she made sure to stomp down the stairs, letting her annoyance at the short man known to all who lived on the first floor.

Levi just shook his head and after rooting around for the keys in his pockets and once he has sat down, the paper bag is dumped on the floor. He moves to pinch the bridge of his nose as he lets out a long exhale. He’s even too tired right now to brew some tea. He could just… close his eyes and take a little nap right now and just—

Whimpering.

You’re crying.

Shit.

Another deep breath and he’s up, brown paper bag in his arms. He pauses right outside though. If you’re going through it, should he really disturb you? He’s not even sure what to say or do if you are on your period. Gabie mentioned tea and sweet things. But, hell, he’s probably seen you on your period before and you seemed to handle it just fine. Are these things normally this painful?

Shit, do you need a doctor? Are you in that much pain? Can periods hurt to the point of tears? He just doesn’t know with you.

But he decides after his long day that crying about it isn’t going to get you anywhere. So he swings the door open with a loud thud against the wall.

“I can hear you sobbing from out in the kitchen. What the hell is up with you?”

You gasp and lift your head up, sitting now. Your hands move to shield your eyes, but Levi heard it all. He walks over to you and sits down, paper bag on the floor.

His tone was harsh and abrasive as it normally is - and it’s enough to take you back to the ‘old times’ you two had together, or how things used to be - but how he feels on the inside will always betray how he looks on the outside. As mad as he is right now, his eyes are stinging a bit to see you cry, much like they always have. His heart feels heavy, like it’s weighing him down and being dragged behind him like a ball and chain.

Hange would always be the one who’d help you calm down when you cried. He’s seen you cry, but Hange would always be the one to walk you away so that you two could talk by yourselves. The late commander would say something reassuring.

And now, Hange wasn’t here.

It was just Levi and you.

You had been sobbing into your pillow and none of your friends were here. Neil wasn’t here, your mom, Hange. No one. It was just him.

And as much as he wanted to, he was only himself; he could not possibly replace them.

You’re gasping in deep strokes again, a new set of tears springing to your eyes.

He raises a hand. “Stop, stop…” his cold baritone causes you to stiffen and you stop sniffling for a few seconds.

But it was too much to stop now.

He steps over and sits beside you. There’s this distance between the two of you, probably just over a foot. There’s been this distance between the two of you ever since you moved in, and even when you’re sobbing, he still isn’t allowing himself to get close to you. You follow his eyes and see they’re staring at your hands. You had anxiously picked at them all day, skin peeling down below the cuticles of your nails. You trace further and see the way his hands have locked onto your golden band.

No way– is he…?

You twist the ring off and place it inside your bedside drawer, and while it’s small, his shoulders droop a bit in relaxation. You look back at him with blotchy eyes that are raw with tears. Your lower lip wobbles some more.

“What’s wrong, [F/n]?” he asked, voice so soft. It was one of the few times he addressed you in that tone since you moved in, or said your name so tenderly. It was as if he was frightened to say it any louder, lest he wanted the glass of water on your bedside locker to shatter.

“I-It’s– It all hurts…” is all you can say. “Everything hurts.”

He leans down and reaches inside the paper bag. Did he buy painkillers today? Damn it, he forgot. He heads out to the kitchen without a word and you reach out to grab him. Even with his leg being bad today, he still moved quick enough when the situation allowed him to. Still, when he returns with the painkillers from the bathroom, you don’t fail to notice the way he bites his lip in pain as he comes over to you.

“L-Levi? No… Y-You can go, please, if your leg hurts–”

“Shut up.” He dismisses, reading the back of the box. Nothing here on period pains, but he can assume it’s the same dosage for just a regular headache or muscle ache. He pops out a pill and makes you drink.

“B-But… Nothing hurts. Like, my head is fine–”

“I told Gabie you weren’t here and she acted. It’s for your cramps. Just take them.” You don’t know what he’s talking about, but you swallow it back anyway. You were probably going to end up with a headache later from all the crying anyway. “It’s… I could just… hear you crying from the kitchen and, well–”

You gulp and he hears it. Are you nervous?

“I’m sorry…” you say, voice weak and shaky, “today… everything is too much…” Levi turns to look at you properly now as you struggle to string together a sentence. There were many things that left Levi shocked to the core, and seeing you struggle under the weight of your emotions was definitely one of them. The way you looked at him again as you sobbed once more was what made his heart splinter.

“Everyone– and everything– is different… Everyone is gone. And I am all alone…” you wept. You think back to Erwin, how you never got to say goodbye. You think back to Simon - you could have been on the verge of a breakthrough. And you think about Hange who you were too slow to save. “I– I don’t like being alone, a-and…”

He purses his lips together in thought. “Isn’t it enough that I am here?”

Sheesh, he thinks to himself, that was presumptuous.

He was wrong for saying that, and he sees it immediately the way your jaw falls slack.

“Are you kidding? Y-You’ve been s-so unapproachable lately… I don’t know how to get through to you…” you sigh, waving your hands flippantly. Your breaths are erratic and you feel so unbelievably hot. Nevertheless, you continue. “You’re so different and colder. I-I never thought I’d miss you being an asshole so much!” you yelled.

He’s not a fool, of course he knows he’s been acting a bit different.

But he can’t help it; he feels he’s doing you a disservice by allowing himself to get closer - even closer and more involved than you were back on Paradis - when you still seem so in love with your dead husband. A man who didn’t deserve you, no less. But it was not the time to say that now. He doesn’t want to rush you into getting over him; he knows the journey of grief isn’t a linear path. And if looking fondly back on your husband, or thinking back to simpler times where he wasn’t in the picture helps you cope after everything you two have been through? Then he can try to live with it, especially if that’s what being with you means; always being second place.

He truly is a love-struck fool.

He has jumped the gun on assuming you are still hopelessly in love with the guy. But he finds it justified when the connection you two had right up to the marriage was cut and severed once you and Simon exchanged vows; once you started wearing that damn ring.

In the midst of his own introspection, he’s pulled to your chest. His eyes widen at the movement and he tries to fight it, but by god your hold on him is tight.

“I just– I need to know… I haven’t made the wrong choice in coming over here to find you again…” you wept.

He blinks rapidly in confusion. “Huh?” What was that supposed to mean?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Maybe this is all my fault too… Maybe this was all too much for you. M-Maybe I… maybe I’m too much for you…” you whisper, relishing guiltily in the comfort of his warm body.

At this and without hesitation, he returns the gesture. His arms wrap around you tightly, and he exhales into the crook of your neck. It was an image you didn’t quite want to forget; your strong and perfect captain, allowing himself to sink to your level in order to comfort.

“I just miss everyone…” you whisper, your voice hoarse. “Please don’t leave me… I don’t think I could handle it.”

He pushes himself up and looks for your eyes again. You’re clutching onto his calloused hands, and he doesn’t want you to let go. He is no replacement for Hange or anyone else, but he hopes you can lean on him and depend on him. He’s not sure at what part of all this he realised this wasn’t just you being sick, but you were sad. Sick with sadness, or something - who knows.

“Are– Are you going to leave me too, Levi?”

“No.”

It’s the first time in a while he can answer a question without any doubt, or without having to weigh up any options. Without having to decide if this is a choice he’ll regret the least. He’ll take you in any form you give him; any version of you. There’s nothing he regrets when it comes to you.

“I’ve– I’ve seen you suffer in silence before, back when you were with him. Back when we used to fight Titans. You can pretend to be subtle all you want, but don’t think for a second I don’t notice it,” he warns, but it also doesn’t feel like a warning. You’re twiddling with his fingers still. Your fingertips trace every callous, freckle and hair. He loves the touch; he loves your touch. “I suppose it’s just us now… And I can’t just assume you’ll come to me when you’re like this–”

“But, I–”

He lets go of your hands to bring his index finger to his lips. “I’m still talking.”

He can do that much at least. Check in on you. And… maybe allow things to slowly return to the way they used to be. He rests a head on top of your hair though and ruffles it.

“Don’t cry in your room like some pissy hormonal teenager, though.”

And at this, you laugh. Genuinely, you laugh. Your laughter is something he could dance to, the soundtrack of his soul.

“What’s in this mysterious paper bag anyw– You did not!” You exclaim, emptying the contents of the bag on your bed.

Levi averts his gaze from you now, hoping you don’t catch the way his face flushes a bit. To be fair, he did his best with the information he had!

“What happened to your hand?” you piped up.

“Burned it while making tea.” He lies swiftly.

You start to chuckle a bit again, the thought of Levi rushing to the grocery store (with Gabie) to get you emergency period supplies was amusing. It actually made your heart surge a little bit. How was he supposed to know you were having a breakdown in your room?

“So this is what you meant by my cramps, that I don’t have. Did Gabie help you with all this?” you asked.

Levi got every single type of pad. Wings, no wings. Light, medium and heavy flow. There were also tampons, some dark chocolate and fizzy sweets. And to top it all off, a little candle. Yeah, your heart was definitely surging now. You looked up to smile softly at him, not caring whether he returned it or not.

“Those, uh– those sticky bits at the sides are called wings…” he mutters under his breath.

“Oh, really?” you asked. How did he know this? Were these a Marleyan thing? “Ahhh, I see, they stop it from– yeah, okay. I get it. That’s so clever.”

Well, at least he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what wings were.

“You know… Gabie told me another thing that helps when you’re on your period…” you began.

He quirked a brow. “You’re not on your period.” He corrected.

“Well, I am sad so that’s also a valid reason to go where we are going.”

The orange-gold hues of the clouds stretched far as the sun set. Amid the perfume of the blooms of late spring, you two were seated on a bench not too far from your apartment. Levi’s wheelchair laid folded up beside you two while you both ate out of the tubs.

“What’s the difference between this stuff and the ice-cream that Sasha was gushing about when we first came here?” he asked. His doubt aside, he was loving his zesty lemon gelato.

You, on the other hand, were quite content with the vanilla. “Hmm.. I don’t know, but it makes you feel better. This is easier on the stomach, I think?”

“Hmm.” Levi acknowledges, licking the wooden spoon contently. Colour him impressed; Levi likes gelato. “I suppose it’s the sweetness that makes people happy. Not a sweet person, you know that.”

“Levi, you’ve devoured the entire tub. Not a sweets person my ass.” You teased.

While the two of you bickered, a familiar little kitten came over. Levi groaned while you cheered. You lured her over with a little whisper and she quickly pounced up and nestled onto your lap.

“That thing has fleas, you know.”

“Well, I will take her home and get flea medicine and she’ll be as good as new!”

“You are not taking it home.”

Try as you might, pouting and putting on your best pair of puppy-dog eyes did not convince Levi. You bickered all the way home about this. There were so many benefits to owning a pet that he was ignoring entirely, focusing only on the amount of ‘shitty cat fur that he’d have to clean up.’

Now this was the way things used to be when things were good between you. When there was no stress about relationships or Titans or expeditions; you two could just annoy each other and bicker, and go on walks. Most of the time, the walks were in silence. But that was okay.

Levi decides then and there he wouldn’t mind you annoying him every day for the rest of his life.

You say goodnight to him as soon as you both make it back up to the shared apartment. He replies with his typical grunt and he tosses the two tubs into the bin. Shit, they tasted great. As he stretches and cracks all his joints, he spies the envelope that he left on the table that Ioana told him to read.

With his pocket knife on him - and has been since he was no older than ten - he slices it open and reads the contents inside, pulling out a pink form that had tons of questions on it.

It looked like a regular census form, but this one was very different. There was a line printed in bold and it rubbed him the wrong way as he read it.

“‘It has come to our attention that there are Eldians living in the listed residence. Please note the number of Eldians living here. Mark a tick in the respective box. Are you:

a) A Mainland Eldian

b) A naturalised Eldian from Paradis.’”

#cece; speaks #husbando tag <3 #levi ackerman #snk spoilers #aot spoilers #levi #levi x reader #cece; morgen #levi ackerman x reader smut #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader #aot #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #hanji zoe #levi x y/n

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