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softeaswitch · 3 years ago

Note

Hello, I have another Levi Ackerman x femreader request after the amazing job you did on my first one! I would like to request one where the reader is sick and Levi has to look after her. Like one where the reader is sick during training and Levi carries her back to his office and claims it's his duty to look after her as he's her Captain. Fluff, hurt/comfort and angst would be much appreciated. Hope that's okay :)

Fever

Levi x FemReader

Canon Universe

Pre-relationship

Concept: See request above!

Summary: As the newest member of the Special Operations Squad, you're eager to prove yourself not only to your Captain, but also to yourself that all of your hard work has paid off. Weakness breeds doubt, something you're not willing to entertain for a moment. Waking up with a fever and nausea curling in your stomach makes proving yourself just a pinch more difficult. Maybe no one will notice.

Warnings: Angst, illness, vomit, fever, some cursing, (If I missed anything, please let me know)

A/N: I am now tackling the amazing requests I've gotten in my inbox. If you've made a request, know that it's on its way and I'm writing as much as I can. You all have some great ideas! If you want to make a request, check out my Submission Guidelines for more details and keep an eye out for my inbox to reopen :)

The world tilts dangerously about a third of the way through your ninth lap around headquarters and you're starting to think the ache you'd felt that morning in your stomach was more than just residual cramping from your last period. Since then, you've gotten dizzy, become prone to sweating and sudden chills within seconds of each other, with a sore throat and a heavily congested chest, and you've had to swallow down the threat of nausea several times since breakfast.

You're sure the sloppy oatmeal you'd choked down will look just as appetizing coming up as it did going down.

Sweat drips into the divots of your collarbone, soaking unpleasantly into the fabric of your uniform and making everything disgustingly sticky. You struggle to suck in air as you run, already several meters behind the others in your new squad, but something heavy has settled in your chest, pushing on your lungs.

You feel pathetic.

It's been nearly six weeks since you were transferred into the Special Operations Squad by request of Captain Levi himself. They welcomed you with open arms and teasing taunts for the newbie, but you were quick to give as good as you got once you got a feel for their dynamic and boundaries. You'd managed to keep up well despite being several years younger and with only a fraction of the experience they'd survived, making especially close friendships with Petra - as the only other girl - and Eld, who tended to act particularly brotherly. Just those few weeks and already you feel like you've gained a new family.

And now here you are, two weeks from the next expedition, sick pooling in your stomach and pulsing in the heartbeat behind your eyes, unable to finish your squad's morning lap rotation. Shame swirls in your throat, a part of you angry with yourself that you can't just shake this off. The larger part of you is just trying to stay on two feet while the world seems to shift unnaturally below you, practically praying that the tears you feel building in your eyes don't overflow.

At the sound of someone calling your name, you trip to your knees when the vertigo of looking up has you stalling. Strong hands steady your shoulders so you don't completely face plant into the grass, and before you think too much on it, your own fingers grip at their wrists as a grounding point.

"Cadet, talk to me," a deep voice you know all too well barks by your ear. Your Captain was the one to catch you, how embarrassing. You wonder how much he's questioning your addition to the squad.

"Captain I - sorry, sir...dizzy." You lean further forward passed Captain Levi's shoulder, practically folding yourself in half as you try to steady the shifting haziness in your vision. "Woke up not - not right...thought it'd pass but...but got worse."

Even you think what you just said makes about as much sense has one of Squad Leader Hange's rambling titan tangents.

Fingers cold like ice press to your forehead, the shocking sensation having you flinching back onto your heels. "Tch, don't move so much," your Captain orders, holding you in place by the scruff of your neck and laying his palm against your forehead again. "You have a fever. You're done for the day, Cadet."

"Wait, no - I can...just give me a minute - "

"You disobeying me, Cadet?"

You swallow, both to keep the rising nausea at bay and at the subtle sting of the harsh authority in his voice. "No, Captain Levi, sir!"

"Lose the equipment, the others will take care of it. I'll help you back to the barracks." He sounds uncharacteristically soft when he says it, helping to guide your hands along the straps. You always train in full kit to make sure your bodies are toned and used to the extra weight.

As you go about unbuckling the various straps, you finally notice the rest of your squad huddled around your pitifully kneeling form. You expect to see teasing smirks barely holding back biting jabs about being new and weak and young, but you only spot the curving worry of Petra's frown and the matching concern sparkling in Eld and Gunther's eyes. Even Oluo, who's always had the iciest barbs to through about your age and minimal experience, seems gruffly perturbed by your downed state. It almost makes you want to cry, realizing how much they already care about you in such a short amount of time.

You pass off the last of your equipment to Eld who has taken to kneeling beside you, heavy hand on your trembling shoulder. "Getting sick happens, just take care of yourself, alright? You'll be running laps around us again in no time." He smiles at you, gently cuffing your chin with a soft fist. You nod and manage half a watery grin in response.

"Eld, I expect you to lead the rest of training today. No slacking off you four," Captain Levi orders, not even bothering to watch as they salute him and head back to the lap route. His eyes are strangely focused on yours, and you briefly wonder how disgusting you must look between the cold sweat and the dirt that's built up on your uniform. "Think you can stand?"

Honestly no, but you think you can try, so you nod anyway.

Standing turns out to be the easy part, as long as you go slow. Your Captain stays close, hands hovering like he expects you to fall. A fair assumption, but you're proud to say you got to your feet with little to no issue - except the ache in your joints and migraine sharpening in your temples and the shivers wracking your body. Then you attempt a step forward, and it feels like the grass and the clouds have suddenly switched places as you try not to collapse again.

"Tch, yeah thought so," Captain Levi grumbles behind you. You're about to apologize when his hands are abruptly turning you just so, arms winding around your shoulders and below your knees. He holds you close to his chest, quick steps heading towards the barracks, and all you can do is stare at the sharp curve of his jaw as a blush you want to blame on the fever rises to your cheeks. His silver eyes glance down at you and he scoffs. "You throw up on me and you'll have stable duty for the next two months."

You snap your gaping mouth shut, choosing not to question the bizarre situation you've found yourself in, and hope the way you relax into his arms isn't too obvious.

"Sorry Captain, for disrupting training," you mumble, daring to rest your head below his chin because your muscles are aching and your neck was struggling to hold you up.

He hums, the rumble of the sound vibrating against your arm. "Not your fault you're sick, brat. You tried to work through it, I get that," he sighs like he's as exhausted as you are. "Just, listen to your body next time. Go to the infirmary, ask for some rest. We take training seriously here, but not at the expense of your overall health and wellbeing. It would do more harm than good. Don't be an idiot."

That makes sense, and you probably would have done so if you weren't so caught up in the pressure associated with being in the Special Ops Squad. Only a few weeks into your new assignment at that. This feels like a major step back from your progress in the military, not to mention a hit to your pride.

But still, sloppy training at the risk of your health is dangerous. You should have known better.

"Apologies then sir, for not speaking up sooner."

"Stop with the apologies, I already said it's not your fault," he huffs, rolling his eyes as he steps into the cool corridor of the barracks. You've never been this close to him before; his eyelashes are beautifully long and his cheeks seem soft. "Besides, as your Captain, I should have noticed something was off."

You're quick to shake your head despite the way it makes your vision spin. "Captain no, I - "

"Shut up, we're not going to argue about this now. Or ever." But you want to argue because the decision you made to move forward with training despite not feeling well was hardly his fault. You bite your tongue, focusing instead on the startling fact that he's not leading you to the infirmary or your dormitory.

"Uh, sir?" You frown, slowly recognizing the bend of the hallway. "Are we...are we going to your office?"

"We are." He slightly adjusts his hold on you, a fresh wave of heat highlighting your cheekbones when you're reminded of your position. "That a problem?"

"No, no I just...don't understand. The, um, the infirmary - "

"Is crowded with disease and noise and not a suitable place for getting any real rest. And someone needs to keep an eye on you so you don't choke on your own vomit or something."

It suddenly hits you as he's deftly maneuvering his body to nudge the door to his office open, outside of orders and mission briefs, you've never heard him speak this much before. You chew on your cheek, fingers fiddling in your lap. He has a really nice voice.

You can't really imagine him bringing someone like Oluo, or any of the others, to his office like this - except maybe Petra, but they've always been especially cordial - and you feel overwhelmed by the whole situation.

The Captain's quick to leave you standing on your own, leaning against the edge of his desk for balance, while he disappears into his adjacent quarters. You're left stumped and still a little dizzy while you wait for him to come back. Idly, your fingers trace the dark wood of his desk, coming away clean of course, noticing the intricate alignment of every little knickknack and stack of paperwork on the surface. You end up having to grip the surface when you feel yourself start to tip over.

You blink, and Captain Levi is standing in front of you, brow furrowed as he steadies you with one hand, the other holding a pile of blurry fabric. Blurry? No, no wait, that's just you.

"Showering's out of the question until you can stand more than a few seconds without falling over," he mumbles - to himself, you think because he doesn't seem to wait for any kind of response from you. He pushes the fabric into your hands. "Change into these so you're at least in clean, comfortable clothes. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Where...?" But you don't finish, exhaustion suddenly pulling at the weight of your tongue.

"Some tea will help, and Hange has a store of medicine in their office. Get changed, sit on the couch, I'll be back soon." It's gruff and curt and the familiarity of the tone has you relaxing into the strange circumstances that have lead you to your Captain's office today.

He's out the door before you have a chance to nod that you understand, so you sigh and take a moment to just catch your breath.

That turns out to be a bad idea.

Your stomach churns, and you only have the warning of your throat constricting before you drop the clothes and scramble towards the bathroom you know is in the Captain's quarters with your palm holding your mouth shut. A few agonizing milliseconds later and you're heaving into the porcelain bowl of his toilet. You're so fucking grateful you made it to the bathroom, pretty sure that if you had thrown up all over your Captain's clean floors, not only would you be off his squad, but you'd probably also find yourself dishonorably discharged from the military entirely.

The way your stomach cramps brings tears to your eyes. You were right, the oatmeal looks about the same as it did going down. A mix of sweat, tears, and saliva drips off the point of your chin, and you can't think of a way to be more miserable.

You're not sure how long you sit there, fingers white-knuckled on the porcelain edge, throat gagging even when there's nothing left in your stomach.

"Shit," you hear, cold hands dragging across the clammy skin of your neck, tugging back your hair. The Captain's back, pulling your hair from the slick of your sick. Walls, you hope you don't look as pathetic as you feel. "Okay, okay just...let it out."

"Hu-hurts," you whimper, spitting into the toilet.

He shushes you, swiping what you think is a cold damp cloth across your sweaty forehead and spit sticky chin. It feels nice. "I know, I know. It'll pass, just let it out."

Minutes pass stuck in the miserable cycle until you finally feel steady enough to push away from the bowl, leaning back against the wall to take deep gulps of air. You flinch at the clear glass of water held to your lips, but manage a few stale sips without feeling the urge to cough it back up again.

Captain Levi runs the cool cleansing cloth along your skin, sharp silver eyes tracking all over your face so intently you find yourself swallowing for a different reason entirely. Eventually his gaze settles on your own, the concern softening the stoic glare you're so used to seeing, and you nearly want to cry again.

"Thank you, Captain," you manage between labored breaths, eyes half-lidded at the drop in your energy.

"Levi."

"Hmm?" Your brows furrow, head lolling back against the wall in your confusion.

"Just Levi is fine, we're not on duty right now."

You're not sure what to say, stalled by your tongue stuck in your throat. Actually saying his name like that, so familiarly...you don't think you can.

Levi.

Maybe you can just think it.

Instead of replying you just nod, sniffing a little as you flush the evidence of a disgusting half hour down the toilet. "Sorry about that."

"Couldn't be helped, don't worry about it," Levi - wow, that's strange - dismisses with a wave of his hand. "Thanks for sparing my floors."

A halfhearted and decidedly painful chuckle shakes your shoulders, though you're grateful for the levity. "Anytime, sir."

He scoffs at the honorific, but can he really expect you to drop decorum so easily? You hardly think so, though he's already treated you a fair bit better than some friends of yours in this situation, let alone a superior.

Levi tosses you the same clothes he'd picked out before, standing to his full height, seeming as imposing as ever from your spot on the tile. "Try to change, go slow if you feel dizzy. Drink the rest of that if you can," he points to the water glass on the vanity. "I'll be right outside in case you fall or something."

Changing clothes turns out to be less nausea inducing and far more exhausting than you expected. You fold your uniform as neatly as possible, stacking the clothes on your discarded boots in the corner of the bathroom. The pants Levi gave you fit well enough, a little short on the ankles and tight at the hips - not surprising given his slimmer waist. The socks are warm and thick, almost cozy. He gave you a larger t-shirt that you almost wonder if it even belongs to him, the shoulders of it broad and length extra baggy, but you've been known to buy oversized sleep clothes for the swaddled comfort, so you don't think on it too much. The fabrics are soft and smell like fresh linen, clean and slightly lemony.

You pull back your hair to quickly rinse your face and gurgle some water to get the acidic taste of bile off your tongue. Without a toothbrush, you try to scrub at your teeth with your finger to clean out as much as you can. Dutifully, you tackle the task of drinking the water cup, both parched and fearfully nauseous at doing so.

It goes down relatively smoothly, which allows at least some of your lost pride to trickle back in.

You clumsily stumble from the bathroom, surprised at how quickly Levi's arms find their way around your waist to steady you. He keeps one hand high on your hip, the other gripping your elbow, as he leads you back into his office to sit on the couch. He sits on the table next to the tray of tea he'd promised and a bottle you know is some tasteless medicine you'll have to choke down.

"Better?"

"Much." You lick your lips, looking from your Captain to the tray of tea. "I have to drink that now, don't I?"

A dry smirk pulls at his cheek as he goes about pouring you a cup with a small drizzle of honey. "If you want any chance at feeling better, yes. The tea will settle your stomach, the medicine is for the rest." He takes what looks like a comically large table spoon in your hazy eyes and fills the curve of it with the amber colored medicine. Your nose scrunches, lips drawing into a thin closed line. "Don't be a baby, just take the damn medicine."

"Gross."

"You fight titans for a living."

"They're gross too, what's your point?"

"My point is, a talented soldier like you shouldn't be afraid of a little medicine."

Your chest puffs up, a weirdly teasing smile drawing across your face. Everything about this has been strange and otherworldly as Levi actually cares for you on your sickbed - er, couch. "Talented, huh?"

"Shut up and take the shitty medicine before I force it down your throat," he grumbles, and you have to blink away the illusion of a dusty pink warming his ears. You lean forward to accept the spoon, fully aware of the reality of his threats. Like the water, it goes down smoothly if a little bit thick, and tastes of the herbs you remember from childhood under the care of your mother's kindness when illness struck. Once Levi proves you've swallowed it with a hilariously thorough scan of your open mouth, he brings the warm cup of tea to your lips and encourages you to drink the whole thing in a string of gentle sips. The warmth of it spreads through your body, soothing the ache in your throat and relaxing your muscles, helping you sink further into the cushions of the couch.

He's wonderfully patient with you, and you're not really sure how to feel about it besides grateful and maybe a bit embarrassed.

You blink slowly, lids drooping and chin dipping towards your collar when staying upright proves to be a challenge.

Strong hands you trust with your life guide your head down onto a pillow, lifting your feet from the wood flooring so that you're lying across the length of the couch. A heavy quilt is draped over you, curbing the rising shakes you feel building up in your spine, and you can't help but snuggle into the plushness of it all.

"G'night, Levi," you mumble in the exhale of a yawn, eyes slipping shut with a gentle flutter.

"Get some rest." Your name rings from between his slips, quiet and fond and almost reverent if you were coherent enough to be aware of such things.

You fall asleep to the loving touch of something soft and rare and precious against your forehead.

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softeaswitch · 3 years ago

Text

Outranked

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Medic!Reader

Word count: 2,928

Warnings: mentions of injuries, dizziness and nausea (please let me know if I missed anything!)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort , Fluff

Description: Never had Levi been a fan of hospitals or medic tents, too in his head to appear as Humanity's Strongest to allow himself the luxury of being nurtured back to health. When he returns looking worse for wear and tripping over his two feet, his cadets know one person who'd be brave enough to drag the Captain to the medical wing by his ear if necessary— you.

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Masterlist

•

Levi messed up.

He knew he messed up when he completely skipped the obligatory check-ups held at the medical wing after every expedition— the very ones you were in charge of. He knew he messed up upon seeing the darkening bruises painting the skin above his ribs; every shuddering breath pulled from his lungs was a bitter reminder of the losses under his belt. He knew he messed up the first time his leg gave out upon reaching his office, buckling beneath his weight and dropping him onto pristine wooden floors.

But he knew he truly messed up when he found himself clinging to Jean for dear life. His vision swam while labored breaths rattled his aching ribs, nausea seeping through the pits of his stomach. He'd barely managed to drag himself to the mess hall before the world around him spun, his fluttering fingers trying to grasp onto anything that would keep him from doubling over. Of course, his nosey cadets were by his side the second they'd notice how their Captain looked ghastly pale; his sickly complexion was enough to sound the alarms within their heads.

How he ended up clutching Jean's arm as the boy frantically tried to ease him onto a chair, he didn't know. He might've blacked out for a second. A grunt escaped his throat, pushing past gritted teeth, muscles protesting as he settled down on the seat Connie had dragged over.

"Captain! Are you alright?" Eren shoved Jean out of the way and faced the Captain with a look of concern. His brows pulled together and it was then Levi was reminded of how young his cadets were. Damn, they're just kids.

Levi only spared the boy a heavy-lidded glance accompanied with a wave of his hand. "I'm fine. I was only a little dizzy," He sighed, "I apologize for scaring you like that."

"No offense Captain, but you've definitely seen better days." Connie pipped up, earning a smack in the head from Sasha.

Mikasa met the Captain's gaze, a look of disapproval leveling him. "You skipped the check-up again, didn't you?"

"My doings and whereabouts are none of your concern," Levi answered, his words clipped by the company of sharp breaths. The younger Ackerman clicked her tongue, earning a glare from the Captain.

Armin frowned. "Sir, that would be the third time you skip the check-up." The boy pulled at the sleeves of his jacket nervously, hoping he hadn't spoken out of terms.

At that, Jean nodded. "And I can't imagine Squad Leader (Y/n) will be happy to find out you've been neglecting your health again."

Damned brats were right, Levi knew they were. He knew you'd be dragging his ass to medical by the ear if you saw his current state. Pale, sweaty, bruised, and dizzy. But Humanity's Strongest didn't have the luxury of settling for a moment's worth of rest. No, there was no rest for the man who'd been tasked with the impossible— to be the strength of all of humanity. Broken or bruised, he had to keep himself upright for the sake of others. Because what was he if not more soldier than man? Who would he be if he weren't humanity's top weapon against the enemy?

"I can assure you," Levi breathed, his voice crackling painfully as it spilled past his lips. He winced slightly. "I do not require her medical services. I'm fine."

"Like hell you are," The sound of your voice had the Captain sitting up quickly, cursing colorfully at the stabbing pain that shot through his chest. Anyone else would've missed the subtle look of guilt and embarrassment that flashed behind his silver eyes, but not you. You, who could read even the most minuscule shifts in his expressions. You, who could differentiate the pained pinch of his brows from his usually stern stare. You, who seemed less than pleased with the signs of his condition. "You're so stubborn." You sighed.

It was only then that Levi noticed Sasha lingering behind you. She must've ratted him out. All he could do was accept defeat and slump back in his chair.

A few beats in silence passed, the air thick and tense. The cadets waited anxiously for their next orders, willing to help care for their Captain. It's the least they could do for the man that protects them at all costs. Their eyes flickered from the Captain to you, and back to their leader, their shoulders held back in attention.

"Go back to your table, kids," The reassurance in your voice had them relaxing ever so slightly. Your eyes remained on Levi as you spoke, "I can handle it from here." Sparing the cadets a final glance accompanied by a short nod, they were quick to scramble away, allowing you a moment with your lover.

"I'm not going to medical," He rasped, instinctively leaning into your touch the moment your cool knuckles caressed the sharp lines of his cheekbones. "I can't stand that place." The hot stench of death, blood, and bleach were always quick to make him queasy.

The sharp disapproval in your gaze softened in understanding as you gave a gentle nod. "I know," you sighed. "But I still need to make sure you're okay, love."

"Could I possibly pull the rank card here and say you can't make me go there?" A futile attempt at escaping the dreadful confines of the medical wing, he knew, but he couldn’t help the fluttering of his heart when a huff of laughter bubbled past your lips.

"You could," you started, a knowing smile pulling at your lips. "But it won't work."

Levi frowned, tilting his head curiously. "And why's that?" He truly wanted to know.

"Because, Captain," you teased. Oh, he knew you were enjoying the savory taste of your next words. "When it comes to the health of the Scouts, I outrank even the Commander himself."

“Damn,” Silver eyes searched your gaze. There was no doubt in his mind that you were completely capable of tossing him over your shoulder and carrying him to medical if necessary; he’d rather avoid such commotion. He was never a fan of the monotonous medical rooms, cold with grief and mourning, so he was really hoping he could avoid them.

As if understanding his train of thought, you brushed a strand of hair away from the slick sheen of sweat on his forehead, bringing his attention back to you. A tender stroke of your fingers down the contour of his jaw had his pained expression loosening subtly. You needed to get him out of the mess hall; there was no need for his condition to be exposed in front of all the Scouts. “Can you walk?” When conflict glimmered within his silver gaze, you nodded. “Alright, that’s okay. Come on, love” Carefully wrapping his arm over your shoulder while pulling his waist close to you, you slowly maneuvered him out of the wooden chair, whispering apologies as his troubled breathing hitched through hisses of pain. With his body so close to your own, you could feel the cold sweats that soaked his skin, the way he leaned most of his weight against you, the soft loll of his head as he fought through the fog in his brain. Your heart clenched with every muffled groan he kept within tight lips.

Before he knew it, he was being eased down onto your shared bed, carefully propped up by the pillows behind his back. Through dark lashes, he watched as you pulled out the medic pack you always had in the room, setting it by the bedside table before sorting through its contents. Even through his foggy mind, he could make out the pull of your brows accompanied by the gentle downward curl of your lips. It made his heart twinge with guilt. “I thought we were—”

“Going to the infirmary?” You finished for him, turning to fill out of bowl with cool water and pluck a rag from your drawer. Dampening the cloth and wringing out the excess water, you carefully began wiping away at his flushed skin. Levi sank into the pillows behind him in relief, the cool temperature of the rag working wonders against the nausea that spilled over him. “No,” You shook your head. “I’m sure I can care for you just as well here than I can over there. You aren’t the only one who’s tired of that place.”

Levi could only nod, wincing as he fixed himself into a more comfortable position, grateful for the help of your gentle hand guiding him with nurturing touches. “Careful,” you breathed, your jaw ticking. “You shouldn’t have been moving so much without knowing how bad you were hurt.” When your eyes flickered down to his chest, Levi nodded, granting you permission to pull up the fabric of his shirt. Darkening bruises tainted the skin above his ribs, but you didn’t wince at the sight; you merely set your jaw as you inspected the wounds, gracing his tender skin, frowning when Levi’s breath hitched and he instinctively shifted away with a pained look on his face.

The low droop of your shoulders were a tale-tell sign of your exhaustion, but before he could comment on it, you were carefully rubbing cream onto his bruised skin, the circular motions of your fingers soothing some of the aches rattling his bones. “This should numb the area for a bit,” You allowed for your touch to linger, feeling the jagged rising and falling of your lover’s chest. “Thankfully you don’t seem to have any broken ribs— they’re just bruised.”

Levi hummed his head falling back, squeezing his eyes closed. Maybe that would help shut the pain out. “Still hurts like hell,” he grumbled.

Falling back into the task of wiping at his clammy, flushed skin, you spared a lingering glance now that his eyes were shut. The sight before you was enough to drop your heart into a pit of uneasiness. Silver and reddenned scars littered his skin, accompanied by the angry bruises that claimed the curves and planes of his figure; his labored breathing and pinched brows enough to make your jaw tick as you held back your sorrow.

The wounded Captain had barely registered your ghostly touch as you worked to bandage and prop up his injured leg, but he surely felt the silence that swallowed the room like a weight on his aching chest. Cracking his eyes open tiredly, he was met with the sight of your contemplative expression, and though he knew he shouldn’t stare, he couldn’t look away. How could he? How could he possibly break away from the pintoresc view before him? As the sun kissed the horizon, light pooled into the room through the window next to the bed, plunging his surroundings into a golden glow. But you were truly a sight to behold. Warm hues danced over the contours of your face, the gentle streaks of light outlining your figure in the most delicate of manners. He nearly scoffed at himself.

It was only logical that the light from the heavens would recognize you and claim you as one of its angels. It’s the only explanation he could come up with for the way your mere touch could heal an army.

“You do know you don’t have to be Humanity’s Strongest with me, right?” The melodic sound of your voice pulled him in and he found his fingers fluttering by his side, aching for your acceptance. He sighed in relief once your fingers were locked around his own, and he allowed himself a moment to admire how perfectly your hand molded against the calloused skin of his hold. “Even the strong need to settle for a moment or two every once in a while.”

Levi opened his mouth, but no words came. What was he to say? How could he possibly reply when the butterflies in his stomach have awakened from their slumber, tickling his heart with the fluttering of their wings? How was it possible that a man as strong as an army now found himself defenseless in the face of hushed words full of care and concern?

He truly hoped the heat rising to his cheeks could be blamed on his weakened health and not on the foreign emotions he’d been ambushed by.

A reassuring smile pulled at the curves of your lips and Levi nearly slapped himself for wanting to memorize once more the shape of your kiss. Airy pressings of your lips graced the scarred skin of his knuckles, the gentle touch of your love disarming him once and for all. “You are one hell of a stubborn man, my love,” you breathed, a soft breath of laughter fanning against his hand. “And I know your reputation doesn’t give way for moments where you can shake the weight of the world off your shoulders.” His breath hitched, his hand tightening over your own as he found himself pinned by the glimmer in your eyes. “But Humanity’s Strongest is nothing without Levi Ackerman. So please, let me take care of you. Let me protect and care for the man behind the soldier.” The plea in your voice was enough to make his lips quiver; his eyes flickering away in hopes of concealing the tears that threatened to gloss over his silver gaze.

Never in a million years did he think it would be the sound of your voice that would break him, but, oh, this was much sweeter than anything he ever imagined. Incredible how a few sacred words had broken straight through the walls of a man made of war. Levi was too scared to speak, too afraid of what his voice would sound like if he were to utter a single word under the influence of such foreign emotions. He’d barely recognized his voice when he uttered a trembling “Thank you.” With all his might he tried to keep himself together, and he’d blame his weakened body for it all, but he couldn’t choke back the quiet cry that spilled from his lips. Even though it hurt his sore muscles and irritated his wounds, he was unable to stop the way his body trembled as he cried quietly.

“Oh Levi,” you cooed, sliding into bed with him. Mindful of his injuries, you rested your head against his shoulder, pulling his trembling body into the warmth of your embrace. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

Levi shook his head, letting his chin rest on the top of your head as tears trailed down his cheeks. “Please don’t apologize,” he hiccuped between sniffles. To hell with his injuries, he thought as he pulled you closer to him. He’d be damned if he even toyed with the idea of letting you go. He didn’t want you to go.

“I promise I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe,” you echoed the words he’d whispered to you years before, a sacred promise he had meant to be heard by your ears only now reciprocated within the safety of your embrace. “I promise I’ll take care of you, fiercely and with every ounce of love I have for you, Levi Ackerman.”

The tears had tired him out by the time his breathing had settled into a rhythm similar to the rise and fall of your chest. Levi could barely keep his eyes from fluttering closed, but his hold around you never faltered. He looked down, snickering softly to see that you were already gazing up at him, your eyes twinkling with adoration.

“How do you feel?” you whispered.

Levi hummed. “Physically? Like a pile of shit, still.” He rolled his eyes at the giggle you’d failed to contain. “Emotionally, though, much better than I’ve been in a long time.”

You propped yourself up, just enough to feather his heavy eyes with a kiss. Pulling back, you smiled at the dazed look that softened his gaze. “I’ll start on some tea for you to wash down the medicine with, okay?” Levi instinctively tightened his arm around you. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“That stuff tastes like shit,” Levi grumbled, quietly hoping you’ll spare him from the horrid taste that comes with the medication. “I don’t want it.”

“But it’ll help with the pain, love.” You were already pulling away before he could argue.

“I don’t want it.” He tried again, but he knew it was futile now that your mind was set on the task.

Lingering by the side of the bed, you tickled his cheek with a gentle brushing of your fingers over his skin. A cheeky smile curled your lips, and Levi knew he was fighting a losing battle. “Sorry, but as Captain or as my partner, it’s still my job to nurture you back to health, my love.” Your smile widened as he shot you a halfhearted glare. “Seems to me that I outrank you in either case, so my word is law, no?”

“Whatever,” Levi muttered, tickling your side and pulling back with a smile before you could smack his hand away. “Just hurry back, alright?”

Silver eyes followed your retreating figure, his heart pounding in anticipation for your return. Looking down at his hands, he smiled at the lingering warmth of your touch that still made his skin tingle pleasantly. Maybe forgetting about the steeled burdens of Humanity’s Strongest and giving Levi Ackerman the opportunity to resurface wouldn’t be such a horrendous thing to allow every once in a while.

It’s not like either could challenge your care and authority.

•

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@leviackermanmyhero245 @Violet-1999 @celestair @ms-sin-city @ghostly-haunted @andrastesbeard @ikisstoga @izukus-gf

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