obsessive!Captain Levi always keeps an eye on you, under the plausible deniability of looking out for his soldiers.
He notices things- he can’t help it, somehow, when it comes to you. He can tell when you didn’t sleep well, noting the faint shadows under your eyes and the half-second delay of your response time in training. He silently disapproves when you don’t finish your rations, wondering if you’re sick or just distracted. And if you’re distracted- by who? Someone who’s about to be assigned cleaning duty for the next month, as far away from your post as they can be.
He doesn’t mean to, exactly. But he knows for damn sure that none of the snot-nosed recruits around you could ever be worth your time. No. You’re something special.
So Captain Levi keeps you close. Your form is already near perfect- he just has to adjust your stance personally. And if his hand lingers on your waist, or his fingers tighten around your wrist just for a moment? It’s nothing. Typical hard-ass Captain, probably brushing dust from your uniform.
He’s sure that he’s being subtle about it. He never stares long enough for you to catch him in the act, though you always seem to feel those steely eyes appraising you. He never lingers around your barracks, never sits near you in the mess- it’s always someone else who conveniently assigns you to his missions or pairs you up for inspection.
Inspections are some of his favorite moments. His fingers smoothing over your collar, making you tie your hair back- sometimes when he kneels down to examine the harness on your thighs, he over-tightens the straps just to hear your stifled gasp. (He’ll fix them right after, he’s not cruel.)
No, nobody knows of his attentions, of the way you’ve infiltrated every corner of his mind, threatening the discipline he’s always lived by. But something tells him it can’t go on forever. One day he might just break.
☆ Summary: The Survey Corps teaches soldiers how to live with loss. Levi realizes he'd rather confess than learn how to live without you.
☆ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Gender-Neutral Reader
☆ Genre/Tags: Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Love Confession, Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff
☆ Content Warnings: Canon-typical violence, blood and injury
☆ Word Count: 1.4k
☆ Requested by Anonymous | Drabble Game #1
#133 Can you not see that I love you? That I've always loved you?
#151 I've waited so long to hear this.
#155 If you die on me after everything I'd done for you... I'll never forgive you.
☆ AO3 Link
☆ a/n: please don't ask for a part two or i'll go into public and scream about levi's buttcheeks
[ Art by hilu.art ]
Dawn rises over headquarters in a pale grey. It’s cold enough that every breath fogs in front of every soldier preparing in the courtyard. Horses stomp impatiently against the half-frozen ground. The clinking of buckles, blades, and ODM gear mingle with small conversations.
You’re pulling the final strap around your thigh when Levi appears beside you without warning. “Hold still,” he says. You look down as he grabs the loose end of your harness and tugs it before checking the buckle himself.
“I’ve been doing this for years,” you remind him.
“And somehow, you’re still careless.”
You see the short hesitation when his hand brushes your side, the warmth of his hand lingering through your uniform. It means nothing—that’s what you’ve been telling yourself, anyway. It always means nothing.
“You worry too much,” you say, trying to drown the beating of your heart with light teasing.
Levi straightens himself, irritation flashing across his face. “You give me too many reasons.”
Before you can answer, he walks away toward his horse, though not without looking back once to make sure you’re following him. He always looks back. You’ve spent too long pretending not to notice it.
But you always do.
.
The expedition remains quiet until the Scouts reach the abandoned village three kilometers from the wall, where ruined houses lean against one another and broken roof beams claw toward the sky.
Then the warning flare rises. Red smoke rises above the eastern edge of the village as shouting erupts. Within moments, Titans emerge between the buildings, their footsteps shaking loose tiles from the rooftops.
Erwin’s orders cut through the chaos. “Get above them! Do not let yourselves get boxed in!”
You fire your hooks into a stone chimney and rise, gas hissing as you swing toward the nearest roof. Levi moves through the village a few buildings ahead. His eyes snap toward you. Checking the formation, he would claim. Checking you, your foolish heart insists.
A scream rips through the air. A young soldier stands frozen on a rooftop, staring at the abnormal charging toward him with its unusually long arms sweeping through the street. Levi changes direction immediately, but he’s too far away.
You aren’t. You propel yourself forward, hook your arms around the soldier, and wrench him from the roof just as the Titan’s hand crashes through the building. The impact shatters the tiles beneath you. Your anchor loosens.
Then you fall through splintered timber. A jagged beam slices deep along your side before you hit the ground, pain exploding through your ribs. Somewhere nearby, the younger soldier calls your name, but his voice sounds strangely distant, muffled beneath the pounding in your skull. Warmth spread beneath your uniform. Too much warmth. You press a shaking hand against your side and pull it away slick with blood.
No. No, that is far too much.
The abnormal doesn’t get to take another step. Levi descends and carves through its nape so viciously that blood sprays and steam erupts across the street. He lands beside you before the Titan’s body begins falling, his shoes skidding through dust as he drops to one knee.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he barks.
You try to smile, though your lips feel numb. “Good to see you too.”
Then Levi sees the blood. His face changes; the anger remains, but there’s something so nakedly terrified that you almost don’t recognize him.
“Move your hand,” he orders.
“It’s fine—”
“Move it.”
You obey, sighing. The moment your hand lifts, blood wells through the torn fabric. Levi presses part of his cloak hard against the wound. The pain rips a cry from you.
“Stay awake,” he says.
“I am.” Your eyelids flutter despite the lie. Levi’s free hand cups the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. His hand trembles slightly.
“You’re going to be fine,” he says.
You want to believe him. You want to tell him all the things you’ve swallowed for years, but your vision is blurring, the world is dimming, and the words refuse to form.
“I’m tired, Levi,” you whisper.
“No,” he says. “If you die on me after everything I’ve done for you… I’ll never forgive you.”
You manage to grip his wrist weakly. “I’ll try not to inconvenience you.”
“Shut up.” But he bends closer as he says it, his forehead nearly touching yours while he keeps pressure against your side.
He refuses to let anyone else carry you back.
.
When you wake, the infirmary is dark except for a low-burning lamp beside your bed. Bandages wrap tightly around your midsection, and every breath is painful, pulling at the stitches along your side. Your mouth is dry, your body is heavy, but you’re alive.
Levi sits in a chair beside you. His arms are folded, his head tilted forward, though the instant you move beneath the blanket, he opens his eyes.
“You look terrible,” you whisper.
“You nearly bled to death, and that’s what you have to say?” he scoffs.
Relief surges through him so fiercely that it almost makes him angry all over again. He’s spent hours listening to your shaky breathing, imagining if silence will ever replace it, and now you’re awake and joking as if you didn’t nearly die.
“How long have you been here?” you ask.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Levi stands and reaches for the cup of water beside your bed, helping you lift your head just enough to drink. His touch is careful, but you can still see the tension in his jaw.
“You broke formation,” he says.
“That soldier would have died.”
“You almost died instead.”
“But I didn’t.”
Levi freezes. You misunderstand his silence, shame gathering in you. He’s angry. You endangered the mission, forced him to carry you back, and became one more responsibility he never asked for. You wouldn’t be surprised if he hates you right now.
“You don’t have to stay,” you say softly. “I know you have more important things to do.”
He looks at you, bewildered. For years, Levi has checked your equipment when he didn’t need to, memorized your position in every formation, endured your awful tea when you insisted on making it for him, and watched you walk away after countless evenings together because he could never find the courage to ask you to stay. And somehow, you still don’t know.
“Can you not see that I love you? That I’ve always loved you?” The confession leaves him harshly, almost angrily, and the room falls into a hush in response. He looks away first, regret filling his expression. Regret for exposing his love, for placing the most fragile thing he could have between you.
You lift your hand from under the blanket and grab his hand, tears welling in your eyes. “Levi…” He turns back slowly, raising his eyes to meet yours. You let out a soft laugh, one of both disbelief and relief. “I’ve waited so long to hear this.”
“You—”
“I love you too,” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his. “I knew your idea of affection was criticizing everything I do.”
“Everything you do needs criticizing.”
A breathless laugh escapes you, causing a flare of pain in your side. His expression softens, though you still see the remaining uncertainty in the slight furrow of his brows. Levi Ackerman can face Titans without hesitation, but apparently, what he’s about to do requires more courage than any battle.
He cups your cheek with his hand. The first touch of his lips is gentle, almost restrained, but when you kiss him back, he inhales sharply, and years of unspoken longing translates through the pressure of his mouth against yours. You don’t deepen the kiss—neither of you wants to. Not now. Not when everything still feels so fragile. This is enough.
When he pulls away, he brushes your hair back with his fingers. “Never do that to me again,” he murmurs.
“Is that an order?” you tease.
“Yes.”
You smile, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “So does this mean you’ll stop insulting me?”
Levi presses one more kiss to your forehead, the love he holds for you finally outweighing the fear still lingering in his eyes.
Imagine realizing he was clingier than you initially thought,
with Levi Ackerman.
levi x gn reader
Genre||Vibe; fluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuffy, love language, soft physical touch, snuggles, cat, i feel warm
Summary; On your first date, you asked Levi what his love language was and he'd answered with something expected—not physical touch. Lately, you can't help but look back at the memory and come to realize how fucking wrong he was.
🗡tags; sfw || modern au || soft levi || early relationship || warm romance || fluff || bed snuggles
🗡word count; 715
🗡a/n; i couldn't help it, i was giggling writing the end bits of this one. i just cannot see Levi as any other animal. can you? if so im curious, TELL ME!
You see, Levi isn't the kind of guy who likes being touchy.
You remembered asking him something you read in an article called conversation-starters-for-the-first-date—on the topic of love languages. You already knew which ones he'd say now, not a surprise, of course back then you didn’t. But even so, you kind of have gotten enough of a vibe during that first date that made you not consider physical touch to be one of the probable options.
Now that you’ve been together for about three months, the memory of it somehow found its way back up from the depths of your temporal lobe and into the front of your mind—made you ponder on it.
The more you think about it, the more it slowly begins to become funny since you realize that you never questioned it either.
Don't get it wrong, he loves you. Too much sometimes. But ever since the very beginning of your little love story, it became harder to recall at least five times he’d held your hand in public and barely ten times at home.
So that kind of made it easy to pick out those small, cute moments, like wrapping his pinky to your pinky.
Even hugging you was a rare emote, or holding you for no fucking reason. It definitely wasn't because he didn't like touching you, god no. Levi once joked about you being the only other thing he liked the feeling of touching. With the sole exception of himself and his dick.
He brushed it off as a joke but you were sure there was some truth to it. Most of it.
Admittedly, you were clingy, so maybe you were just overthinking the lack of grand cuddles and overbearing-reciprocated clinginess. You also don't quite remember a time when you asked him about it along the lines of; "Don't you want to hold my hand?"—or say something like; "You act like I'm dirty with how little you touch me."
Intimately speaking, this—minimal-physical-touch-thing wasn't really a problem because fuck, Levi was good in bed—in you. Every other touch instance beyond that? You can count them with all twenty of your fingers. Yes, including feet fingers.
However...since you have been letting your brain be occupied by these thoughts, you eventually started seeing the minority you didn’t count. Especially that one little thing Levi does with you that your mind often lets slip from your memory.
Cats.
Cats have this thing they do—what was it called?
Ah,
Nuzzling.
When the idea first crossed your mind, best believe you crashed into your bed and smacked your laptop open to confirm something.
“...cat nuzzling...feline...f, e, l, i...” you mumbled as your fingers flew across your keyboard, typing the thought away before you forgot about it.
“AHA!...itisafelinebehaviorwhereacatgentlyrubstheirheadandfaceagainstyou—HAH!” You semi-rapped the definition part out of pure excitement. The aha and hah’s you’d yelled out had Levi poking his head into your room asking if the reaction came from you figuring out how to multiply his detergent stock without spending twice the money.
The way your eyes looked up to him slowly plus the growing grin of your face said otherwise. It made him recoil, “what?” his eyes narrowed, suspicious and well aware that you had that look that said you fucking-found-something-out.
“Nope. Nothing.” You sucked your lips in in an act of hiding the rest of the rise of a cheeky smile, “it’s nothing.” you added quickly, shutting the screen of your laptop with deliberate slowness.
Levi had to stare at you for another good minute, just to see if you’d spill. You didn’t, so he gave up and finally walked in, sinking into the space beside you on your bed, snug against your side.
You really didn’t tell him and you struggled not to giggle while he just now was doing the very thing you were refusing to tell him. Nuzzling his face against the ball of your shoulder, the motion soft, lighting up your heart in the warmest way possible.
At least now you knew that the instances of Levi and physical touch being under the same breathing space exceeded all twenty of your fingers. Now counting the small moments in the past you didn’t include, and the ones that’ll happen in the long future ahead of your relationship.
𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: As Captain Levi's trusted Lieutenant, you'd done your best to assist in keeping his new squad's morale up during your stay deep within the forest. Guarding the Beast Titan's user, Zeke Jeager, for a month's time had taken its toll on you all—you didn't see the attack coming until it was too late. The squad's death, Zeke's escape and recapture, the explosion...everything happened too fast for you to react beyond shielding your beloved Captain. The next thing you knew, you'd taken the blow, leaving Levi to come to your rescue.
𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: Themes of grief/loss, descriptions of injury/injury to reader, angst-to-fluff, language
𝓐/𝓝: I'm so sorry this request took so long to publish! I was really off my game for most of 2025 lol. But now that I'm in a better headspace (at the moment), I'm wanting to get back to pushing out requests! I'm pretty self-conscious of this one-
Once again, the writing got away from me; enjoy a 2.8k word count :/ Hope it ended up okay for you lovely!
~𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑅𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉~
Just as quickly as it had begun, the chaos came to an end.
Steam from decomposing titans rose up through the trees like tendrils of smoke, enough to nearly obscure your vision entirely—it dissipated all too soon, leaving you with a grim sight just a pace or two away from where you stood on tired legs.
Hadn't you, just a moment before, cautioned your Captain against this? It seemed your concern had gone unnoted, for there Levi was; kneeling onto the forest floor, inches away from the mangled and crumpling corpse of the Beast Titan, reduced to unconsciousness. In one hand he held aloof a thunder spear, curling with steam and dissipating blood—though, the majority of sticky crimson remained, and you had to glance away.
Zeke had fallen captive once more. What remained of him, at least.
Levi had wasted no time in dismembering the blond’s legs and tying back his wrists, but a cruel gleam remained in the Captain’s eyes—malice, rage, bloodlust…you knew he likely wouldn't listen to you now.
Not after what Zeke had done.
And in all honesty, you couldn't blame him.
It had been so quiet just this morning, another day of guard duty in the forest—where had the time gone? One moment, you'd been laying back in your hammock high above the campsite, on break from your “shift” of sorts. Down below you paced your comrades, speaking low or joking quietly. Others read or wrote, some slept or trained.
It had been almost peaceful, if one could call this duty such.
Captain Levi and his squad, yourself included, had been assigned to keep watch over the Beast Titan’s user, Zeke, for a month's time: a long, boring month of detaining a grown ass man within the forest far from the walls. While necessary, many complaints had arisen.
Boredom, homesickness, distrust…a whole plethora of reasons kept Levi’s new squad on edge.
As the Captain’s Lieutenant, you'd done your best to smooth over what you could. If not for them, then perhaps you’d subtract one more stressor from Levi’s long list.
So you’d hoped, anyways.
Even when your companions, and admittedly yourself, had grown restless after the second week, you’d all held out this long. The end had been near, with hopes to return to the walls. The whole ordeal had been stressful, but worth it in the end to see your squadmates lighten up.
Yet now…now, they were gone.
All of them, not a single soldier had been left alive.
They didn't get the chance to return home. To celebrate, to bond outside of duty.
Another squad, gone. Their bodies mutilated in titan form burned into your mind evermore.
All dead.
All but you and your Captain.
So many had been tricked by the enemy with tainted wine and restlessness—the thought made you ill.
You’d been offered a glass, and had declined. Had you accepted…
Levi’s frustrated grunt brought you back to the present and out of your thoughts. Turning to see what it was he was even doing, you froze.
“Captain, I’m serious; this might be too much…” You murmured, quick steps leading you forward to reach for the spear he aimed down at Zeke. But he was quicker, snatching it away from your outstretched hand. He’d had the end of the explosive pressed against the shifter’s abdomen, despite your earlier protests.
“It’ll keep him deterred from disobeying again, once the fur ball wakes up,” Levi scoffed, leveling you with the glare that hadn't left his face since the moment the battle started. You let your hand fall away from the thunder spear he gripped, and sighed.
This was reckless…
"And if he jolts anyways, pulling the wire…?”
“...He won't make it that far. I’ll be watching for the moment he wakes; he owes me a little chat.”
A sickening wet thud followed the moment he lunged forward, and once again you had to look away.
Tying the wire around Zeke’s neck, Levi continued to speak over his shoulder.
“Bet he wasn't counting on both our sobriety’s, the bastard. I…”
He paused, seeming to mull over his thoughts before continuing again, softer this time.
“I’m…glad you didn’t drink, brat.”
“So am I…” you replied meekly, keeping your gaze averted.
“We shouldn't have allowed–”
“Stop that.” Levi cut you off, tying the wire taught before coming to a stand.
“There was no ‘we’, it was me. I gave the okay, I cut them some slack—this is on me.”
He avoided your gaze as he looked around the disarrayed forest, scoffing under his breath. His expression slowly changed from anger to vulnerability, as if the guilt he felt was physically painful and heavy. You knew it was…
“...See if the carts are still intact, and if the horses back at camp are still tethered,’ Levi continued.
“We're taking Zeke to the interior.”
Hours passed by with nothing of interest to note as the horse trotted along the old dirt road.
The forest blurred by as you lost yourself to thought again, watching the horizon color vividly with the dipping sun.
Miraculously, you’d managed to locate a cart still intact, and a horse healthy enough to pull the weight. Levi had taken to placing Zeke upon the floor of the craft and carefully arranging his limp body while you kept a lookout, and then off you'd been.
Your Captain had been more quiet than usual, his gaze never wavering from the blond man at his feet. You hadn't pushed for conversation while you guided the horse’s direction from the front seat: there was nothing to say that hadn't already been felt.
Even as evening turned to night, and night into morning, the pace at which you traveled never slowed. Despite the rain soaking you to the bone, despite thirst and hunger, you carried on.
Chancing a glance back, you were surprised to catch Levi’s eye; the first he’d taken it off of Zeke in hours. He looked about to say something, but hesitated as a quiet murmur above the crash of rain caught both your attentions, and he held up a hand.
Then, and only then, did Levi signal you to pull the reins.
Slowing the horse’s gait, you swept your gaze to the floor of the cart, and cursed under your breath; he’d woken up.
Already Levi had tortured the man, taking out his frustrations after explaining his situation to him—you hadn't expected Zeke to gain consciousness so soon after having his regenerating legs so crudely amputated.
This time, Levi seemed more content to listen to Zeke’s inane rambling before physically lashing out. Even still, you chose this moment to quietly remind him of the time before he could.
“We’re nearly an hour out; it’s best we just keep moving.”
Levi cast you a look over his shoulder, but didn't comment. So, begrudgingly, you turned your attention back ahead and just listened to Zeke’s speech. In the midst of it, you heard Levi scoff.
“Look at that, your legs are growing back already…”
You turned just as he’d unsheathed his blade, but before he could raise it much higher, Zeke began to scream and thrash.
In the moment, you hardly registered what he was saying; because the instant Zeke jerked his head, you were on your feet.
“Cap-!” You started to scream, but already it was too late.
One moment, you felt the slick of rain water slowing your steps inside the cart, and the next you felt nothing at all. Nothing but a vague awareness to the sensation of weightlessness.
The grey skies overhead vanished from sight, the cool chill brought by the downpour warmed, and screams seem to just fade away in your ears. Even the explosion had seemed silent, despite seeing it happen for yourself.
You never registered hitting the ground, nor the sharp sting of injury–everything was blank.
Empty.
Quiet…then still.
The moment you regained consciousness, panic overtook your mind.
Up above you saw a canopy of leaves, swaying in the breeze and bouncing under pelting rain–when had the sky darkened? How long had your eyes been closed?
Where were you? Where was the field, and the burning cart?
Levi…
You hastily swiveled your gaze this way and that, but only saw half of what you expected to; in the way that only one of your eyes seemed to obey your will to open.
A scratchy material itched your face in many places, leaving you feeling a sense of dread.
Who had bandaged your face? What was your condition?
Though, when you attempted to raise a hand up to your face to inspect the covering, you found your arm felt heavy like lead.
Everything felt like lead.
Heavy, bruised, achy, sharp and painful…The explosion, you recalled.
Had you shielded Levi enough?
What became of Zeke?
Where had you ended up?
Why was it so…cold?
All these silent questions swirling around your head only worsened the ache behind your eyes. This wouldn't do…
Sheer determination helped you sit up, despite your brain screaming at you to stay laid down.
The second you did, a firm hand gripped your shoulder, making you gasp.
Levi sat at your side, eyes wide like he hadn't expected you to be awake yet. But upon giving you a once over, he visibly relaxed, though his scowl returned.
“...We never left the forest,” he mumbled, as if he’d heard your silent question. His voice was rough, like he hadn't used it in a while.
Reaching up to adjust the cloak haphazardly thrown over your abdomen, he scoffed.
“...How are you feeling?”
Despite the myriad of thoughts swimming around your head, you finally found your voice–scratchy, quiet, hoarse. Your words came out in a hazy ramble.
“Shitty. Cold, sore, weird–but Zeke, he-”
Levi raised a hand, cutting you off.
“Got away. I got distracted, and…dammit, you paid the price for that.”
His look concerned you enough to sit up a bit straighter, and immediately he tensed like he might reach out to grip your shoulder again.
“Dont,” he warned, short and simple.
With a huff you leaned back a little.
“Captain…what exactly happened?” you pressed.
For a moment, you weren't sure he’d respond. But eventually he let out a weary sigh of resignation.
“...Let my anger overrule my judgment. Shouldn't have put us in that kind of situation—put you in that kind of situation. It cost you a damn eye and some fingers. Shit, Y/N, I–This is my fault.”
Anything you'd wanted to retort back with died on your tongue in an instant as you absorbed his words.
An eye? Some fingers?
You had to look down–with partial vision–to confirm, but looked away from your wrapped hand only after a brief glance as your stomach dropped.
If you'd had the strength to, you might have vomited. Or cried. Or both.
But you had to stay in control over what little you could.
“...How bad…?” You hesitantly asked, shifting on the makeshift cot he had apparently supplied.
You must have been out a long while…
“All of it–me.”
“Not great, not the worst,” Levi supplied lamely, his eyes transfixed on your hand before they swiveled up to your face–what of it was visible. A frown tugged at his lips, and his expression softened–like guilt, or pity.
You didn't like that look so much. Not aimed down at you.
“Captain…” you murmured, fixing him with a stern gaze. He met it with one of his own, then scoffed.
“Do I look like a damn field medic? I don't know; but you're alive, and that's what matters. We’ll figure out the rest.”
“What is the rest, Captain?” You again pressed, sitting up straighter and moving aside the cape covering half your body despite his glare demanding you didn't.
You ignored it in favor of getting adjusted through the discomfort.
This time, he didn't try to stop you.
“...Concussion, bruising, blinded eye, missing fingers, you feel feverish, bruising–that’s all I can determine for now. You’re lucky camp still had some supplies I was able to scavenge.”
You already regretted moving so soon, but refused to show it as you ground out through grit teeth.
“You went all the way back there?”
“Made sure your body was covered first.” He reassured, taking his eyes off you briefly to look around the clearing you both inhabited.
“But yes.”
“Covered? What–”
“...We're being hunted, Y/N.”
The statement froze the blood in your veins and made your stomach queasy.
Hunted?
Your mind spun with many possibilities before you even asked; by Zeke? By someone else? More Titans? Marlians?
“‘Jeagerists’ turns out,” he continued, seeing your confusion. Your raised brow made him shake his head, and start to backtrack.
“That was his plan all along; taint the wine, turn the soldiers, reunite with Eren, escape and rally with Eren’s ‘followers’. A few showed up with Hange in tow, after the explosion. I'd just gotten to my feet and grabbed you when their guns went off.”
“Hange-” you gasped. They weren't anywhere within sight, and naturally you assumed the worst.
“They’re fine. We got you out of sight and picked off the strangler as best we could with limited ammo. They’re keeping watch while I watch over you–we’re taking shifts.”
You both fell into silence for a long moment, in which time you took to look around and gather your wits about yourself as relief filled your mind.
They were safe…for now.
Everything still ached, still felt like lead; but you were safe. All three of you.
“...They scolded me, you know. For not thinking to look for your fingers after the explosion while getting shot at. They would have had a field day trying to reattach them to your hand, I imagine.”
His sudden comment made you huff with amusement; leave it to him to comment something so dryly and so unprompted.
“I can imagine,” you mumbled, looking around the clearing as if expecting to suddenly spot the Commander somewhere amidst the underbrush. You didn't, of course, and leaned back a little further. Exhaustion felt like a plague…
“Tired?” Levi murmured, glancing back your way again with a raised brow. When you merely nodded, he sighed and leaned his weight forward, resting his forearms onto his knees.
“Rest then, damned stubborn brat. Only thing you're missing right now is watching the shitty grass grow. We’re gonna need you healed up before winter sets in, you know.”
He paused when you actually attempted to lay back, and immediately shifted to sit on his knees and help lower you down. Much to your muted surprise, he even fixed the way his cape rested over your abdomen and shifted the roll under your head once you were settled.
More silence followed as you attempted to relax, yet never took your half-lidded eye off his.
That damned expression of his was back on his face–guilt.
“...I’m sorry,” he whispered, catching you off guard.
“I’d rather it be me than you.”
“I wouldn't, Cap’n” came your muffled reply. Damn the thick bandaging covering the majority of your face, and damn the way the sutures pulled at the skin of your cheek and mouth for every word you spoke. He frowned at that, and turned his gaze away.
“...Levi.”
You perked up a little, forcing your heavy eyelid to open and concentrate on his face–inches from yours.
“...Huh?”
“Just Levi; enough with this ‘formality’ bullshit. Haven't we known each other long enough? You're not just a damned Lieutenant.”
His words caught you off guard for the nth time, and if you could muster up a visible smile in the moment you would have. For now, you settled for a quiet grunt and reached for his hand.
Warm, calloused, steady and grounding. He didn't hold on, but didn't pull away either; it was enough for now.
"I suppose so…Levi…”
Maybe it was the concussion you no doubt suffered from, but you could have sworn you caught the faintest shade of pink spread across his cheeks to his ears the moment you addressed him by name. But the sight vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. He turned his gaze away and sat back onto his heels, leaving you to wonder what you'd really seen.
“...Get some rest; no tossing or turning, you’ll just pull sutures. I didn't save you to watch you aggravate the wounds I stitched.”
Even as you let your good eye close and you relaxed your posture, you noted his loyal presence still right at your side.
And maybe, just maybe, you caught the faint sound of his voice as you drifted off into unconsciousness once more: peacefully, this time.
“I'm not going anywhere, so relax. We’ll figure it out in the morning. You're safe…I’ve got you, Y/N. Always…”
~More Levi Ackerman Content Here~
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contents: canon universe, post-rumbling, angst, talks of death and grief, (implied) major character death.
a/n: this was originally a prologue of sorts for a story that i lost interest in writing, but @atruewarrior inspired me to pick it up and rework it a bit, so here it is! thank you endlessly for being my biggest supporter since day one, dee. idk if i would’ve started sharing my stuff on here if it weren’t for you <3
word count: 1.3k
read on ao3
“You want to know about them?”
Gabi and Falco stare up at him with wide eyes from their spot on the floor, kneeling over a box which they’ve already proceeded to dig through (unprompted, of course).
Levi found them just like that, upon crossing the threshold. It’s nothing he isn’t used to; the two kids have been spending more and more time at the little house he has settled into. He might grumble about it, but he secretly finds that he doesn’t mind it all that much.
He isn’t familiar with the box, however. A delivery of some kind, he guesses, but its contents—what looks like memorabilia—don’t make much sense to him.
Until his eyes land on a fragment of the past that he’s suddenly compelled to pick up, that is.
Until the two brats sitting in front of him utter your name. And, as if that wasn’t enough to make him dizzy, they just have to start asking about you.
He supposes he can’t blame them. They must’ve heard of you in passing, here or there. Nothing but fond words, he’s sure.
He’s also aware of how he must look right now. They might be young, but Gabi and Falco aren’t clueless; the lovestruck look on his face only fuels their innocent desire to know more.
“Please, please, please!”
Levi wouldn’t often consider himself a talkative man. And yet, with his eyes stuck on the small object in the palm of his hand (the mediocre looking pendant you’d wear everywhere because he’d gifted it to you; a useless thing, really), the words seem to flow out of him as easily as a river in its own bank—perhaps because he wants the kids, the world, the galaxies and the whole goddamn universe to know how good you are.
…were, he catches himself. Truth is it’s been difficult to run from the thought of you, but he should have known it was going to find him on a beautiful day like today.
Finding a way to begin is the hardest part. There is so much to say, and not nearly enough words. The kids would have loved to spend even just a day with you—and you with them—and maybe he can give them the illusion that you really are here for a moment. Maybe he’ll end up believing it for half a second, too.
He wants to do that without fault, to allow them to know you as you were.
And though he never was one to wear his heart on his sleeve, he tries his best. For you. Despite his best efforts not to, he lets himself remember.
Because there are corners of his mind that are yours and yours alone; letting them collect dust simply won’t do.
So he tells them how you’d fall asleep anywhere. He never understood how someone could sleep that easily, but you did. Against trees or on a chair with your forehead pressed to a stack of reports you swore you’d finish before dinner. He got used to waking you up; a touch to the shoulder was all it took, and you always looked like you’d wandered back from somewhere far away. Then you’d smile—that small, shy smile he’d give anything to see one more time.
Levi has to let out a shaky breath. When did his voice stop being steady?
He’s not going to force you to wake up into a broken world anymore. You’re free to rest for as long as you like, now.
He tells them that you used to leave him notes. Stupid reminders and bad jokes, on his desk or tucked away in his coat pocket. Your handwriting was a mess, probably because you thought faster than your pen could follow. He used to complain, and, if you were feeling particularly annoying, you’d find a way to make him read it out loud just to watch him struggle.
There were days when you couldn't get out of bed. Still, you moved through the day. You probably thought no one noticed; he always did. He’d find you in the mess hall, food untouched, staring through the wall.
But most days you were bright, and maybe that’s why, with the sun so high up in the sky, today is the perfect day to remember you and the way you used to hum when you cleaned your gear. Hange would try and guess the tune, but they never got it right. Quite the pair, the two of you.
Your voice would go up half a note when you lied. You didn't lie often, but when you did, it would be something small: "I ate," when you hadn't. "I'm fine," when you weren’t. He let it slide more than he should have, just like he does now when the kids hide their giggles behind his back, thinking they’re so clever.
He remembers your hands, always warm and always busy and how they shook sometimes. He can feel them sneaking their way around his neck, only to find their rightful place on his chest as you place a tender kiss on his shoulder. Relax, you’d say. Just relax.
You bruised so easily. You’d always end up hurt one way or another during training, and he’d always take care of it (no one else could do it right). You’d tell him ridiculous stories about your scars while he worked, laughing at yourself. That’s how he remembers you: bleeding, and still trying to make the room feel lighter.
People changed around you.
He changed around you.
You made them believe things could be good again. You made him believe it, at times.
You used to keep lists of things people loved, of places you’d been and the ones you wanted to see. He wonders if he’ll find them in that box, among other pieces of you he thought were lost forever.
Maybe he could go sightseeing, one of these days. You’d like him to.
You said it helped you believe there was something waiting for you, after everything. When he asked you what that after looked like you told him to imagine coming home tired, cold and warming his bones beside the fire. You’d spoken those words like you truly wanted to be the one he came home to.
Levi could hardly believe it, but each day he spent near you it felt all the more possible.
He never believed in home either, and yet you were his, weren’t you?
…so where is he supposed to go now?
You had a way of noticing the parts of him he didn't think were worth seeing, and you never asked him for more than he could give. You’d look at him like time had taken pieces, but never all of him. Like there was still something worth holding on to. He still doesn’t understand how you did that.
He thinks he loved you before he even knew what it meant.
You probably knew, just like you knew the right time to bring him his tea, or that he’d often need to rest his head on your lap, just for a moment. You were insufferable like that.
He never told you; what a waste of a perfectly good chance to make you smile.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
(With the look she’s giving him, Gabi probably agrees.)
Most of all, he hates the silence you left behind. It is deafening, which is rather confusing; it seems to him that your presence has never been louder. You like to make yourself known whenever he least expects you to.
The space you filled is all but empty. The love you wore like a second skin is there in your stead: he can see it now, feel it—touch it, if he reaches for it.
It’s like you’re daring him to forget you.
As if he ever could.
You were just... you. The one who made him feel like there was nothing he should face on his own, who’d whisper sweet words onto his skin, words that had no business patching up his ugliest scars. The one who’d hold him oh so tight.
Perhaps tonight you will. Perhaps his nightmares will grow tired of tormenting him and, for once, you won’t become dust slipping through his fingers.
Instead, your hand will settle into his. Softly, surely, perfectly—like it should, like it always did.
exhausted and battle-worn levi who has made something of a habit of crawling into your bed after missions.
it's a habit that formed first out of necessity; you'd both been tasked with bringing the cadets on a snowstorm training exercise but had to bail out halfway up the mountain due to an avalanche. you'd sent the cadets back down with hange and moblit while offering to stay put with most of the equipment, figuring the gear too valuable to risk the chance of it being picked through by thieves by the time you were able to return. levi offered to stay with you, an offer you were sure he'd regret. you weren't close -- not enemies, but your relationship was built on begrudging respect and prolonged silence. not exactly the makings of an easy time spent alone together.
as the night turned inky black and blisteringly cold, you soon realised that you underestimated how cutting the wind would be. the base was insulated as best as the survey corps could afford -- which is to say, very poorly.
out of desperation, you'd made an unspoken pact to share a bed that night.
it wasn't romantic, let alone sexual, a pragmatic measure designed to keep your fingers and toes intact, but you were surprised to find him still there in the morning when the wind had died down. he wasn't curled up against you and his face betrayed no signs of any emotion, but he was still there. you were the first to slip out from under the covers.
the next time was after a particularly late night spent strategising (on levi's end) and drinking (on yours). you'd grown somewhat closer since that night spent up the mountain, with him trusting your opinion over most other officers. at the end-of-year celebration, a rowdy event with all military branches forced to attend, he had chosen to sit next to you, a decision that caused something of a stir amongst the cadets. you both chose to disregard the gossip, though even you couldn't ignore the way his eyes followed your every movement that evening.
when the coast was clear you retired to your chambers with him trailing after you, eager to escape a night spent putting up with the drunken debauchery of the military police. again, the night was tame, with you exchanging various plans and theories back and forth until you both fell asleep, clothed, on top of your mattress.
you had felt the temptation to kiss him but didn't, figuring it was just the wine talking.
that kiss happened three missions later, with levi so relieved to find you alive he had taken your face in his blood-stained hands and pressed his lips to yours. it was more desperate than heated, a surge of emotion that even he couldn't control.
he showed up at your door that night and took his place next to you in your bed, and a habit was born.
things move slowly with you both, and you're okay with that. everything else about your lives moves at breakneck speed, too fast to process, and so you're content with the little victories.
like levi resting a hand across your waist as you sleep, keeping it there until it's time to get dressed for morning roll call.
like levi going from a silent goodbye to a spoken goodbye to a kiss before he steps away, ready to face back out into the world.
now, you wake to feel levi's chin resting against your shoulder, his head resting in the groove of your neck, it's another victory, and you'll take it happily.
One moment, you were sat right up with your laptop in bed, getting close to finishing up filling out the last boxes on Excel, and the next, the fog of sleep was separating. And you were curled up, just as exhausted as you had been this morning. It felt like your head was crammed with too much cotton.
“You alive?” he retorted.
At the sound of Levi’s voice, you sighed softly. He was finally home from running errands… just to see you dozed off while you were technically at work.
“Hi to you too... Yeah... I think I’m just getting sick,” you muttered, eyes still closed.
“‘Just’?”
The bed creaked distantly as he clambered over his side and peered over you. You reflexively covered your face.
He didn’t need that, though. Fingers closed on your ear in an (admittedly) silly effort to measure your temperature that way, and you caved—you slapped your hand over it unhappily and frowned.
It softened, however, at the mercy his touch gave to you. His skin was dry and cool. His palm slid across your forehead. It lulled you, you could swear, almost into another doze.
“You’re burning up.”
“Your hand is cold,” you denied.
“And you’re more stubborn than a hard shit. Stop trying to work and get some rest.” You heard your laptop close somewhere beside you. “Doing work in bed,” he mused. “Unacceptable.”
“You’re unacceptable…”
Without another word, he unbuttoned your tight dress shirt—you sighed in relief—and ruffled your hair gently.
