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kkalnxtdoor · 2 months ago

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Green with Envy

more levi x blind!fem!reader cw: 2.8k words, cussing, jealousy, a little angst, a little comfort tldr: three times levi let his jealousy unravel find more silly levi drabbles in my masterlist <3

There were three times Levi let his jealousy truly unravel.

The first was long ago in The Underground, after Furlan and Isabel came around. It was one day where Furlan came to your room in the brothel to wait for Levi to get back— Something he needed to talk about with him, he said. It wasn’t unusual for this to happen, and you were always happy to have him around, to fill up the empty room with some chatter and noise.

You were even younger and more naive than you are now, a teenager with almost no experience of the The Underground, let alone the real world. You didn’t like to venture out more than you had to, Levi didn’t either, with all the crime and violence that occurred in the dirty streets.

And of course, you couldn’t see the longing glances and silent expressions Furlan wore around you and behind Levi’s back. Everyone knew you and Levi weren’t together, but Furlan still knew he couldn’t be caught with these pining feelings for you.

Furlan couldn’t help it, really. Your kind eyes always tried to hazily study his face, always asking how he was and if you could help him with anything. He liked the way your hair reflected the lamplight, and it wasn’t long before your pretty smile started to send aches through his chest as well.

He had brought you a flower from Mitras that he had somehow got his hands on that afternoon. As soon as you caught a bleary glimpse of the bright green stem and felt the soft, velvet petals, you threw your arms around him while gushing your thanks. The next thing he knew, a blushing Furlan was pressing a quick, stolen kiss against your innocent lips. You stared at him with your own flushed cheeks in surprise, and that’s when the door swung open.

Furlan was frozen. As he stared over at a glaring Levi, he swore the black-haired boy’s eyes turned red and steam blew from his ears.

“Furlan…” Levi’s voice came slow, low, and rough. “Let’s go.”

Levi beat the shit out of Furlan in an alley a couple blocks away. You saw the bumps and bruises on Levi’s fists and Furlan’s eye when they returned later, neither making the effort to hide what happened.

And no one ever spoke of it again.

+++++++++++++++

The second time was after the annual military ball you attended with Levi.

Year after year, you were always his plus-one, and he’d help you pick out the prettiest dress and fix your hair just the way you liked it for the big night out. Levi didn’t care for these events, but you looked forward to it every year so you could spend an evening drinking and dancing away in a fancy gown, so he bit back his complaints and let you stay as late as you wanted.

It was deep into the night when Erwin asked him to meet privately about some sensitive information, which Levi reluctantly agreed to after setting the runts from the 104th up to dance and keep you company, promising to never take their eyes off you. You didn’t know about his little ploy, but was delighted to get to know them all and dance with the adorable young men either way.

While Levi was hunched over secret papers and files in Erwin’s dark office, it left an opening for an unassuming, retired Scout by the name of Carlo.

“Excuse me,” The man had tapped on Jean’s shoulder. “May I steal this young lady away from you for a dance?”

Jean’s confident demeanor, which had turned flustered from constantly stepping on your toes during your twirling, suddenly seemed surprised and awkward. So, he gave your hand to the man’s and disappeared. It was a bit uncomfortable for you at first, having a stranger’s hand on your waist as he guided you smoothly around the dance floor, too nervous to protest it all. But, you quickly learned through polite conversation that Carlo was as courteous and respectful as he was brave.

There was a moment where Carlo asked who you came with, and then backed away when he heard Levi’s name. After a rushed explanation of ‘No, we aren’t together’, his hand was back on your waist and your skirt fluttered around his legs as he spun you around. After the dance, Levi was no where to be seen and you didn’t want to admit that you had no idea how to get back to your seat… so Carlo kindly escorted you out to grab some fresh air and a break from the busy, overwhelming noises of the ballroom.

Levi’s heart dropped when he scanned the room and you were no where to be seen. The runts from the 104th had no idea where you went, so he promptly chewed them out and promised a punishment later, and went to scour the halls. He was about to let himself start panicking when he checked the front steps of the Survey Corps Headquarters, where he saw you clutching onto some bastard’s sleeve as he held his elbow out for you.

Your back was facing Levi as he stood in the shadows, allowing himself to read the situation for a moment before lashing out to scold you for disappearing. You weren’t alone with the man, a retired Scout that Levi recognized and had spoken to offhandedly a few times, but surrounded by other drunk soldiers who were smoking and chatting away on the stairs. The two of you made quiet conversation, nothing inappropriate. But, what irked Levi the most was the honeyed smile on your beautiful face and how you slightly leaned into Carlo.

He waited until the conversation lulled, then called out your name. You turned around in surprise, then let a giddy smile replace your expression as you recognized Levi’s familiar voice. He took your arm from Carlo and set off to walk you home, against your protests to stay and dance a bit longer, and while almost completely ignoring the other man.

Levi said nothing about it to you— It was over and done with. It’s not like you were truly his anyways… Until a while later when you mentioned that Carlo had accidentally stumbled into the tavern during your shift, stayed a while to chat, and walked you home. After that, Carlo started coming around the house sometimes.

Well, sometimes turned into more, and more turned into a lot… and a lot turned into all the fucking time.

Levi denied and denied it, never asking about him, and only getting details when you’ bring something up. He just about burst into fucking flames when Carlo showed up at the front door one evening with a large bouquet of your favorite flowers, asking for Levi’s permission to officially court you and take you to Mitras some extravagant, unnecessary dinner.

“I’m not her father,” Levi had responded, trying to stop his eye from twitching and relax his clenched jaw. “She can make her own decisions. I don’t care.”

Levi had to close his eyes and hold his breath the evening you came home from that dinner, gushing about stupid fucking Carlo and more stupid fucking flowers and that stupid fucking meal after he safely dropped you off. He absolutely despised how chivalrous and reverent the guy was— He couldn’t even pinpoint a single inappropriate touch or comment from him, even after all the times he had to suffer through Carlo’s visits to you.

He suffered for weeks. Levi tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t last, that Carlo would break your heart eventually over something idiotic like your lack of sight or status, and he’d get to be to one to comfort you after the heartbreak. He tried to convince himself that Carlo was just a skirt-chasing bastard trying to get under your dress, tried to convince himself that it would all go away in due time…

…But it just got worse.

Levi was beginning to lose his fucking mind. Lying restlessly awake one night as his mind toiled over you, he suddenly realized that if you and Carlo kept on like you were, a marriage proposal was absolutely imminent. It was obvious that Carlo didn’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, that the shithead was just as infatuated with you as he was himself.

Levi had a migraine for two weeks straight, his left eye twitched uncontrollably whenever he thought of either of you— The poor guy even contemplated praying to the Walls about it. He started to get desperate, a strange feeling that Levi hadn’t felt in years.

After being teased by Erwin and Hange about it one day over paperwork, Levi had suddenly had enough. He stomped out of the room, duties still undone, and rushed home. He was over the pining, the yearning, the jealousy, the constant stress.

If Levi had to finally admit his hidden feelings for you after all these years just to get the fucker to disappear, then so be it! He couldn’t take another fucking second of it, ready to wield his blades against Carlo if it came down to it— Anything to never have to see his face again.

When Levi arrived home, he found you sitting in your garden, alone on the bench as the sun disappeared over the walls. He was about to blurt it all out when he noticed the solemn look on your face as you looked on toward the sky.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Oh, Levi,” You greeted him softly, your voice not as excited as usual. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Liar.”

You shuffled uncomfortably. “It’s nothing serious…”

“What happened?” Levi couldn’t hide the small bit of panic in his voice as his mind ran through every possible situation that could have made you upset. His pulse was already racing, the anxiety and nerves making the worry about you worse.

“Well… Carlo…” You began, and Levi’s heart plummeted. “…I don’t think he’ll be coming around anymore.”

“What the hell did he do?” Levi demanded. “Tell me now. That fucker—”

“—It was my doing, Levi. Relax, okay?” He watched your mouth turn into a sheepish smile. “I just got back from dinner with him. It was great, actually it was amazing. But when he dropped me off, he… well… he finally kissed me for the first time.”

Levi’s blood quite literally started to boil and bubble from the innate rage that suddenly coursed through him.

“Don’t get me wrong, it was so romantic…” You rushed to explain. “But, it just felt… odd? I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t feel a single thing. No butterflies at all.”

Suddenly, Levi’s heart rate was back to normal, and his rage transitioned to quick relief.

“So, I- um… yeah. I ended things with him.”

“…Are you serious?” Levi couldn’t cover the disbelief in his tone. Levi didn’t really believe in luck, but now he’s seriously considered it.

“Of course, Levi!” You scolded with a pout. “And I just feel awful about it! He probably was saving up the courage to kiss me for so long, just for me to break up with him no more than a minute afterwards. I’m terrible, just terrible. I think he’s far more torn up about it than I am, but I just couldn’t help but blurt it all out after realizing that… maybe we weren’t meant to be.”

Levi let out a breathe he had been saving, along with the string of dreaded love confessions he was just about to let tumble out. He quietly sat down on the bench beside you, letting your skin warm his side as you slowly tipped your head over to rest it on his strong shoulder.

“Levi…” You whispered, eyes brimming with tears. “Am I a bad person?”

“No,” He answered promptly, closing his eyes and slowly letting his chin come to rest on your hair. “You did the exact right thing.”

Levi hoped you took his words as a reassurance instead of a sort of… possessiveness or insecurity about the relief of the breakup. You were much smarter than that, though.

You smiled, and neither of you spoke of it again.

+++++++++++++++

The third time was long, long after.

Levi sat on the side of the room, tense hands gripping the armrests of his wheelchair, watching Onyankopon spin and throw you around the floor to the quick beat of the music with his one good eye. Your delighted shrieks and giggles filled the room while the bright red fabric of your skirt flared and fluttered in a mesmerizing blur.

He felt guilty. And alone.

Out of everyone among the crowd in the noisy bar, he was the only one who couldn’t dance with you.

Even after knowing for years how much you loved it, he never spun you around like that, and now he never will. He brought you all the way across the sea to a better, safer life in Marley, where he’d never have to leave you again.

But what was the point if he couldn’t even love and live for you the way he desired? The way you desired?

Levi was quiet for the rest of the night, anxiously picking off the labels from his beer bottles while he watched you take turns dancing with Onyankopon, Falco, and Gabi while the night wore on. It just made it worse, soured his mood further with each song, but he couldn’t stand to look away. The tipsy blush on your cheeks was impossible to ignore, same with the toothy grin that never left your face, and the adorable way you dizzily stumbled after a particularly rowdy dance.

Eventually, the others walked you home, leaving the two of you alone in the new apartment you shared along a quiet street that reminded you just enough of Paradis not to hurt. Scout was waiting by the door when you entered, greeting Levi with a quiet meow and a strong nudge against his foot.

“What’s wrong, Levi?” You asked softly. “I can tell something’s off with you.”

Levi had promised himself to be more candid since you came, refusing to hold anything back from you any longer. He still hesitated for a moment before answering you slowly, still uncomfortable with the vulnerability of it all. “I’m… jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“I can’t dance with you like that.”

Levi watched your eyes turn from curious to sympathetic in the soft light of the new, electric lamp he bought a few months ago in preparation for your immigration here. He was almost a bit embarrassed now, having to admit to something so dehumanizing yet obvious, even though he knew you would always be the most understanding.

“It’s okay, Levi. You don’t need to dance with me to make me happy.”

“I know,” He paused again. “I just wish I would’ve done it before. Back when I could.”

Both of you stopped for a minute, two minds rolling through past memories. Ones of that creaky old house, forest green cloaks, and even back to the musty, dark city under the dirt where it all began.

“Well…” You started cautiously. “We can still dance.”

Levi was about to scoff at you, tell you not to be so naive. He swallowed it as you walked over to the phonograph, gently letting your hands run over the vinyl and feel where to set the needle. It was your first and favorite purchase of your own after moving to Marley, after crying in amazement and joy when you heard the recorded music filter out of Onyankopon’s for the first time.

Quiet, lilting notes flowed from the bronze horn, a slower song you played constantly on sleepy afternoons. Levi never took his eyes away as you delicately sat yourself in his lap, making sure not to put your weight on the spots that make him ache. Your arms hooked around his neck, and your nose buried into the crook of his shoulder.

Immediately, Levi’s hands came to hold the back of your head and body, pulling you in impossibly closer as he breathed in the scent of your hair and the kneaded the plush of your waist.

Levi closed his eyes, letting his senses fill with nothing but the music and you. Your bodies started to lightly sway back and forth to the tune, subtle and calming.

He’s never felt so full before.

There was absolutely nothing more he could ask for as he held you tight, feeling the comforting warmth of your breath against his neck. He listened to you faintly hum along, his heart damn near bursting at the seams at the compassionate way you loved on him.

“We can always dance together, just like we are now,” You whispered in his ear when the song ended, another slow one starting to replace it. “Still jealous?”

Levi pressed his lips against your temple, then let out a long exhale while letting his body fully relax— A foreign feeling that he didn’t start truly experiencing until your arrival in Marley.

“No,” He answered. “Never again.”

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kkalnxtdoor · 2 months ago

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𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 & 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚

・❥・ pairing: veteran! levi x fem reader

╰┈➤ synopsis: known as ‘marley’s darling’, your father, a high-ranking marleyan diplomat, introduced you as his pride and joy since you were out the womb. dazzling smiles, coy and subtly flirtatious remarks, an innocent but seductive allure that keeps you in the eyes of the public. with concerns for your safety, your father hires levi ackerman as your personal bodyguard, a war hero to some, a warm criminal to others. the same man who fought against your people.

・❥・ tags/warnings: age gap, levi is in his late thirties, reader is 26, angst, fluff, smut, alcohol, drugs, war veteran! levi, reader takes inspo from marilyn monroe, mentions of ptsd, depression, death, post! war, prejudice, guns, knives, violence, reader is marleyan, slow burn, sorta opposites attract?, dark themes, cussing, gross men, no titans! modern au, may have some canon divergent elements (e.g. levi has both legs still lol)

chapter 1: primadonna girl

chapter 2:

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kkalnxtdoor · 2 months ago

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holy ..fuck.

𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 & 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚

・❥・ pairing: veteran! levi x fem reader

・❥・ wc: 9k

・❥・ series masterlist < next chapter

The sound of gravel cracks underneath Levi’s shoes, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. It’s a sunny day in Eldia, he’s almost begun to miss this place. It’s much more different than Marley, not that he’s complaining. He’s only been here for three days, yesterday was his last. For some reason, he’s dreading the plane back. A sigh escapes his lips, shaking his head at the melancholic intrusions. He stops in his tracks when he hears a tiny hurdle of giggles and whispers. Looking over his shoulder is a small group of children around the age of five or six, looking up at him with wide, starry eyes. He can see the way their gaze flickers across his features, going from the long scar across his face to the ghostly, white eyeball of his. Some hold their smiles back, while others gasp in child-like delight.

He turns to face them fully, crouching down to the children’s height.

“H-Hi…” a timid girl greets. “Are you—”

“You’re Mr. Levi!” a much more brave young boy blurts out, his toothy grin widening. “You look cooler than the books!”

Levi’s lips twitch into the smallest of smiles at the boy’s enthusiasm, his usual stoic expression faltering for a moment. He straightens up, towering over them once again, though his gaze softens as he studies the children.

"Mr. Levi, right?" the timid girl asks again, her voice barely a whisper.

Levi’s heart skips a beat, a strange, unfamiliar warmth flooding him as he nods. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The children seem to surge forward as if they’ve all had the same unspoken idea, their eyes practically glowing with excitement. The boy in front pulls out a little notebook and a small pen from his pocket. “Can you sign it? Can you sign it for us?!” His voice is filled with such an innocent eagerness that for a moment, Levi just stares at the child, a little taken aback.

“You want my autograph?” he asks, his voice low, almost like he’s not sure what to make of this situation.

The children nod eagerly, the timid girl now clutching a scrap of paper between her tiny hands. Levi takes the paper from her, glancing over it for a brief moment before scribbling his name, his signature jagged and rough, just like everything else about him. “Here,” he hands it back to her, the girl’s eyes lighting up like she’s just been handed the most precious thing in the world.

“Thank you, Mr. Levi!” she squeaks, bouncing on her heels. “You're our hero!”

Levi straightens up again, his hand returning to his coat pocket as he glances over the group. They stare at him for a while, their eyes filled with admiration, something he hasn't seen in a long time. But it’s not the kind of admiration he’s used to—it's pure, innocent, almost reverent. He can feel the weight of their gaze, but for some reason, it doesn’t bother him. “Well, I’m not really a hero,” Levi mutters, running a hand through his hair. “But thanks.” He turns his gaze away from them, feeling that odd discomfort creeping in. “You kids should get back to playing, yeah?”

The children nod excitedly, and as the last few gremlins get their signature, they scurry away.

He shakes his head in a slight fondness, turning back around to continue his trek back to the private plane waiting for him. Seems being a veteran has pretty good perks, if he does say so himself. The hangar isn’t too far away, luckily. He’s already had his morning cup of tea from the shop he used to always frequent before moving, same owners, same tacky furniture—nothing could get better than that.

He can see a few men in the distance, seemingly getting his plane ready.

Levi continues to walk toward the hangar, his mind begins to wander. The children’s bright smiles and excited whispers echo in his head, their innocent admiration stirring something within him. He hadn’t been called a hero in years. Most people only saw the scarred, battle-worn soldier who had fought for survival. The idea of being a symbol of hope to anyone was something he'd long abandoned. But there they were—those little faces full of wonder, looking at him like he was more than just a man who’d lived through hell. His lips press into a thin line as he shakes his head. Maybe it was just the way they were raised, seeing heroes in simple things, not yet tainted by the harshness of reality.

As he gets closer to the plane, one of the men spots him and waves. “Mr. Ackerman!” the man calls out. “Everything’s ready for your departure. We’ve got a clear flight ahead.”

Levi nods, not in the mood for small talk but acknowledging the man’s efforts. He’s almost there—almost back to the place he’s tried to forget sometimes. Marley. He tenses at the thought. There’s nothing left for him here in Eldia—not really. The place is a relic of the past, and he's nothing more than a passing memory of a world that no longer exists. Besides, he has two other little rascals waiting for him back in Marley.

He stops just short of the plane, eyes narrowing as the men finish their preparations. The sound of metal clanging and the hum of engines fill the air, but his thoughts are elsewhere. It feels like a strange kind of irony, returning to Marley, where the tension between Eldia and Marley still simmers just beneath the surface, a conflict that’s far from over. But it’s not his fight anymore. Of course, things probably will never be the same, considering just how many lives were taken in the war. A war spanning over nine years that only ended five years ago.

As the men begin to board the plane, Levi lingers, staring out at the horizon. He can almost see the faint outline of the place he left behind. His throat tightens. He’d been a different man then, a soldier with a cause. Now, he was just trying to survive, trying to forget. Humanity’s strongest.

He pushes the thoughts aside, stepping onto the plane as the door closes behind him. The world outside becomes a blur as the engines roar to life. His seat is cold and uncomfortable, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care about comfort. He’d long ago learned how to endure, how to keep moving forward. He settles back in the comfy chair the plane has to offer, opening the glass of whiskey that’s already been placed out on the table for him.

Giving himself a pour, he brings the rim to his lips and sips. A small hum of satisfaction sounds from him.

“Drinkin’ already?”

Levi stiffens, lips contorting into a hard-set frown. Kenny, uncaring of his niece’s animosity towards him, sits leisurely across from him. He takes his hat off and leans back with a relaxed sigh, lifting his legs onto the table between them and crossing his arms over his chest. “The hell are you doing here?”

Kenny scoffs. “Spending time with you, obviously.”

“I’d rather eat shit than be in your presence,” Levi gruffs back, eyes narrowing at his uncle. “As far as I’m concerned, this is a solo trip.”

“Was,” Kenny corrects. “Besides, got some business on the other side. Figured I’d hop a ride with you.”

Levi’s fingers tighten around his glass, the amber liquid swirling inside as his gaze locks onto Kenny, who seems entirely unfazed by the hostility radiating off Levi. The man across from him is annoyingly at ease, as always. A smirk dances across his uncle’s lips, a little too self-assured for Levi’s liking.

“Business?” Levi repeats, his voice laced with disbelief. “What kind of business? Last I checked, you didn’t exactly have a legitimate operation.”

Kenny’s eyes twinkle as if he’s relishing in the tension between them. He leans forward, and the casualness of the movement only serves to irritate Levi more. “You’re not the only one who can make deals, kid,” he drawls, the condescending tone sharp enough to cut through the stale air between them. “We’ve got some... mutual interests. Thought I’d tag along, see if you might actually get your hands dirty for once.”

Levi scowls but doesn’t respond immediately. He takes another sip of his drink, trying to swallow down the wave of frustration building in his chest. The last thing he wants is to be involved in any scheme that Kenny’s tangled up in. But, as always, Kenny knows exactly how to push his buttons, and Levi knew better than to think he’d be able to escape this.

“Not interested,” Levi mutters, leaning back in his seat, eyes flicking toward the window, though his mind is far from the view outside. “I’m not here for a job, nothing else. Keep your shady dealings to yourself.”

Kenny chuckles, the sound a low rumble that seems to settle uneasily in Levi’s stomach. “Right, forgot you’re Mr. High ‘n Mighty now. Forgive me, Your Highness.”

“You’re a fool. An old fool.” He scoots the whiskey bottle closer when he sees Kenny reaching for it.

“Oh, give me a break,” Kenny rolls his eyes, reaching forward and taking the bottle from his niece’s grip. He uncaps it and nonchalantly sips straight from the bottle. Levi doesn’t bother holding back the disgusted noise that leaves his throat, but says nothing and focuses his attention on the window as the plane begins to take off.

For a second, there’s silence.

Until Kenny opens his big mouth again.

“So…really not interested, huh?”

“No.”

“How come? Ain’t that compensated money the government lends ‘ya not that much? How the hell you even survivin’?”

Levi’s gaze sharpens at Kenny’s words, his grip tightening on the armrest. He didn’t need to explain himself, especially not to someone like Kenny. The audacity of the man still gets under his skin, even after all these years. But Levi knows better than to take the bait. “I'm surviving fine,” Levi mutters, his voice cold and clipped. He turns his head slightly, eyeing his uncle with a glare that would freeze most men in place, but Kenny only grins wider, clearly enjoying the discomfort Levi tries so hard to hide. “I have my shop, I don’t want blood money.”

“Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I mean, the way I see it, you ain’t exactly living large," Kenny says, tapping the neck of the bottle against his leg like a rhythm he’s got memorized. "Could use a little extra padding, if you catch my drift."

Levi huffs under his breath, a dry laugh escaping him. "I'm fine," he repeats, louder this time, not bothering to explain any further. The question, though, lingers in the back of his mind: how much longer can he keep doing this? How much longer can he stay out of the kind of deals Kenny’s offering?

Kenny’s eyes narrow, sizing him up, and for a moment, Levi feels the weight of his uncle’s scrutiny. The man knows Levi better than he lets on—knows his breaking points, knows what makes him tick. And that only makes Levi more defensive. The older man lets up a bit, sighing to himself and grumbling something Levi can’t quite make out. He removes his legs from the table, facing Levi head-on. “Listen, it’s not…that bloody, alright?”

“Sure,” Levi simply says, checking his watch. Two more hours to go. Dammit.

“It ain’t,” Kenny reaffirms, scooting toward the edge of his seat. He subtly looks around, as if afraid the small crew of the plane might be listening. “Just a tiny gig. Could help you out.”

“How many more times do I have to tell you no, old man?”

“As if you’re not gettin’ there your damn self, you little brat,” Kenny spits out. He huffs, taking out a crumpled-up sheet of newspaper from his back pocket and flattening it out onto the table.

Levi peers down, face indifferent. A few moments of silence pass with Levi expecting some sort of explanation. When none comes, he unfortunately takes the bait. “What?”

“See here,” Kenny taps a long finger onto the paper. “A…client of mine, you could say. Mr. Makoto Suzuki. Topshot back over there, heard of ‘im?”

Levi’s eyes flicker down to the paper, his stomach sinking at the mention of the name. He doesn’t want to show any sign of recognition, but he can feel the subtle tension rising in his chest. Makoto Suzuki. The name isn’t foreign to him, but it’s a name that brings too many memories—too many connections to things he’s tried to forget. Levi’s lips tighten into a thin line, but he says nothing, his gaze flickering back to the newspaper. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him,” Levi mutters. He’s been around long enough to know that the big players in the game—men like Makoto—always find their way into the darker corners of the world. “Anyone with a brain has.”

“Correct,” Kenny grins, his gold canine on display. “Well, Mr. Suzuki here has a very special package he holds oh so dear to his heart.” Kenny’s finger moves slightly over to the right, and Levi’s eyes follow. A young girl, maybe in her twenties. Smiling at the camera, displaying her pearly whites. Levi can make out the group that must’ve been hurdled around you and your father while the picture was taken. Makoto’s arm is around your waist in what appears to be a protective way. “His fine piece of a daughter.”

“Makoto’s daughter,” Levi says, the words coming out gruffly, like he’s testing the air. Of course, he knows who you and your father are. “Why are you showing me this?”

Kenny leans back, eyes gleaming with something Levi can’t decipher. He takes a moment, savoring the tension in the air before answering, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “Because her father’s paying a pretty penny to keep her pretty. Been buggin’ me about it for a while now, but I ain’t no babysitter.”

“Neither am I,” Levi scoffs, setting his glass down and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not taking anything, especially from people like them.”

Kenny’s eyes flicker with an almost predatory gleam as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a near hiss. “You know how things work, Levi. Money talks. And Mr. Suzuki's got plenty of it. He's desperate. His daughter’s a political asset, no different than a pawn on a chessboard. But she’s got a problem—she’s too... distracting, if you catch my drift. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll see the opportunity here.”

Levi shakes his head, his jaw tightening as he stares at the picture, your smiling face glaring back at him. The thought of being involved in any situation with Makoto Suzuki’s daughter—especially in the way Kenny’s implying—turns his stomach. He’s fought his entire life to distance himself from this kind of world, from men like Makoto, who wield their power like a weapon and treat their own flesh and blood like assets. He snorts, his voice dripping with disdain. “I’m not a damn babysitter, Kenny. And I sure as hell don’t get mixed up in that kind of business. I’m a civilian now, it’s staying that way.”

Kenny’s grin widens, as if he’s been waiting for this exact response. He leans back in his seat, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table. “That’s the problem, Levi,” he mutters, eyes narrowing. “You think you can just walk away from all of this. You think you’re done. But the world doesn’t work that way, not for people like you. You don’t just get to put your hands up and say, ‘I’m done,’ because someone like Suzuki? He doesn’t give a damn about your past. He sees what you can do, and he’ll make sure you know it.”

Levi’s eyes darken, his lips pressing into a thin line. He’s heard it before, the way people try to pull him back into the chaos. He’s been fighting it for years, but it’s always lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. “I don’t give a damn what Suzuki thinks,” Levi mutters, his voice cold as steel. “You know what kind of man I am. I’m not some hired weapon anymore. I’m happy where I’m at now.”

Kenny laughs, a low, rasping sound that seems to crawl under Levi’s skin. “And yet, here we are, aren’t we? You’re still the same guy, Levi. You’re just pretending not to be. When the world’s out to get you, you can’t just sit on your hands and pray it’ll go away. You’ll need allies, whether you want ‘em or not.”

Levi clenches his fists, his nails biting into his palms. He wants to reach across the table and throttle Kenny, but he knows that wouldn’t change a damn thing. The man’s words ring too true. The world doesn’t let people like him go so easily. It’s a cold, unforgiving reality. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze still locked on the picture of you and your father. The idea of getting involved with Makoto Suzuki’s business makes his skin crawl. He’s been there and done that—used as a tool in someone else’s game. He refuses to go back.

“I’m not your guy for this,” Levi says, his voice unwavering, but the unease in his chest grows. “Find someone else to play your damn games.”

Kenny groans and rolls his eyes. “Stubborn lil’ thing, huh? It’s extra cash, Levi.”

“Does it look like I care?” Levi cooly replies. “I’m not doing it. He can get a clean Marleyan to do it.”

“What? Ya think that’s it? He won’t let you watch his daughter ‘cause you ain’t Marleyan?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? What smart man would employ someone who fought against his country to be up close and personal with his daughter? We’re still a devil to some, remember?”

Kenny leans forward again, his eyes gleaming with something Levi can’t quite place. The older man seems almost amused by Levi’s firm resistance, as if he’s testing a limit he already knows well. He taps the table once more, the sound cutting through the tension like a ticking clock. “You’re a real piece of work, Levi,” Kenny mutters with a smirk. “But you’re forgetting something. Mr. Suzuki’s desperate. And desperation… well, it makes people do things they wouldn’t usually consider. And in this case, what he’s offerin’ isn’t just money—it’s leverage.”

Levi freezes at the word "leverage." The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as his gaze snaps up to meet his uncle’s, suspicion and anxiety coiling tightly in his chest. “Leverage?” Levi repeats, voice low, barely above a whisper. He knows too well what that means—Kenny’s not talking about a job offer anymore. This is something bigger, darker.

Kenny’s grin widens, but it’s not a pleasant smile. It’s the grin of someone who knows exactly how to pull the strings. He leans in, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “You ain’t gotta choose the game, Levi. You’re already in it. Suzuki’s got dirt. Big dirt. And if you don’t play nice, that dirt’s gonna find its way to your doorstep, sooner or later.”

Levi’s heart races as he absorbs the weight of Kenny’s words. He can feel the familiar weight of the past creeping back in, like a shadow he can’t shake. He’s fought so hard to stay out of this world—this world of manipulation, of dangerous men who make deals and break lives without a second thought. But it’s all starting to feel inescapable. “You’re saying if I don’t help him, he’ll use whatever he’s got on me against me?” Levi’s voice is steady, but there’s a tightness in his chest that betrays his growing unease. He feels like he’s already caught in the web—he’s just waiting for the final tug.

Kenny nods slowly, that sinister glint in his eye never leaving. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. He’s already been planting the chip in my damn ear about you. And you know better than anyone—someone like Suzuki? He don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. You’re useful to him, Levi. You’ve always been useful. And now, you’re gonna be useful to his daughter.”

Levi’s fingers twitch involuntarily, a dark, suffocating feeling building in the pit of his stomach. He wants to scream, to smash the table between them, but he stays silent. His mind races, searching for any escape, any way out of this mess. “You can’t make me do this,” Levi says, his words low but firm. “I’m not going back. I’m not going to be anyone’s pawn.”

Kenny leans back in his seat, clicking his tongue. “You’re already a pawn, Levi. You just haven’t realized it yet. You’re surrounded by players who know how to move the pieces. You just happen to be the one they’re comin’ for.”

Levi feels his throat tighten, the cold reality of Kenny’s words hitting harder than he wants to admit. He’s trapped. No matter how far he tries to run, no matter how much he wants to be out of it, the world he’s left behind has a way of finding him. And now, it’s threatening to drag him back in. He scrubs a hand down his face.

“Think about it,” Kenny continues, his voice almost soothing, as if he’s offering advice. “You ain’t have to do much. Just keep an eye on Suzuki’s little girl. Protect her. Get a few hands dirty, but nothing that’ll land ‘ya in trouble. Think about the money. Think about what you can do with that money. Think about the doors it could open.”

Levi looks down at the picture again, at your smile, at the image of a life he knows he doesn’t belong in. But he knows his uncle is right about one thing—the world doesn’t let people like him go that easily. And maybe, just maybe, this isn’t as simple as walking away. The weight of the decision presses down on him like a lead weight. He wants to punch something, to refuse, to get off this plane, never look back and stay his sorry ass in Eldia. But the words get stuck in his throat.

“So what’s it gonna be?” Kenny asks, voice heavy with expectation.

Levi doesn’t respond right away. He stares out the window, the soft hum of the plane filling his ears, as the choice looms over him like a storm waiting to break.

The second the plane has landed and the door opens, he’s striding down the ramp. Mood soured and the whiskey does nothing but make him more adept to just how much of a damn headache his forsaken uncle. Two figures in the distance momentarily ease his grumpiness. They familiarly approach him.

“Levi! How was it?” Gabi asks first, striding forward to give him a tight hug around his waist.

“Careful,” he murmurs, though his hand pats lightly at her back. “Nothing interesting. What about you two? Held up well?”

“Sure did,” Falco responds, smiling. “Shop’s doing fine, no hiccups.”

Levi nods and hums in approval. Gabi removes her arms from him, just about to ask another question when Kenny’s scratchy voice breaks the atmosphere. “Oh, look at that. Forgot about these two monsters.” He approaches with a crooked smile, head tilting and leaning against Levi. “Huh, you both are smaller than I re—”

“Shut up,” Levi cuts him off, shrugging him off. “And don’t talk to them.”

Kenny lets out a bark of laughter, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, no need to get your panties in a twist,” he says, stepping back with an exaggerated sigh. “Just makin’ conversation.”

Levi ignores him, glancing back at Gabi and Falco, who exchange wary looks before Gabi’s nose wrinkles in annoyance. “Who’s this old man?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“Just an annoying bastard,” Levi mutters.

Kenny smirks. “You wound me, shorty.”

Levi clicks his tongue, already regretting letting Kenny tag along. “You’re not staying long, are you?”

Kenny grins, all teeth and trouble. “Nah, just for a drink or two. Maybe I’ll even stop by the shop, see what kinda scam you’re runnin’.”

Levi’s eye twitches, but Falco steps in before the argument escalates. “We should head back. You look tired, Levi.”

He is tired—tired of this, of the headache that is Kenny, of the weight pressing on his shoulders. He casts one last glance at the man before exhaling sharply. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Kenny just chuckles, watching as the trio walks ahead, hands in his pockets, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. He follows at a distance, whistling a tune that grates on Levi’s ears. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Did you bring us anything back, Levi?” Gabi asks, looking up at him.

Levi exhales through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Tch. What do I look like, Santa?”

Gabi pouts, nudging his side. “Come on, not even a little souvenir?”

Falco chuckles. “I told you he wouldn’t.”

Levi rolls his eyes, but after a brief pause, he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small, neatly wrapped package. He tosses it to Gabi, who catches it with a surprised blink.

Her face lights up. “Wait—you actually got me something?”

“Just open it,” Levi grumbles, ignoring the way Kenny is still whistling behind them.

Gabi rips the paper off, revealing a sleek pocketknife with an intricate engraving on the handle. She whistles, running her fingers over it. “This is so cool!”

Falco’s eyes widen. “A-A knife, Levi? Really?”

“She’s gotta learn how to defend herself,” Levi mutters. “Can’t have her relying on you all the time.”

Gabi grins, flipping the blade open and inspecting it. “I love it. Thanks, Levi.”

Levi shrugs, glancing at Falco. “And for you.” He reaches into his coat again and hands over a small box.

Falco hesitates before taking it, opening it carefully. Inside is a simple but finely crafted wristwatch. He blinks, then looks up at Levi, eyes wide. “This is… really nice.”

“Better than being late all the damn time,” Levi says, side-eyeing him.

Falco rubs the back of his neck, chuckling. “I guess I deserve that.”

Kenny lets out an exaggerated sigh behind them. “Damn, no gift for your dear ol’ uncle? That hurts, Levi.”

Levi doesn’t even turn around. “Your gift is me not punching you in the face.”

Kenny cackles, and Gabi snorts as she tucks her knife into her pocket. Falco just shakes his head, slipping the watch onto his wrist. Despite his exhaustion, Levi feels the tension in his shoulders ease just a little. The walk to the tea shop only takes about ten minutes. Falco takes the keys from his pocket and unlocks the door, allowing the group to step in. Kenny looks around, nodding slowly with a small whistle. “Cozy in here.”

Levi glances around, already feeling a sense of peace settle in the small, warmly lit space. The gentle scent of freshly brewed tea fills the air, mixing with the earthy tones of wood and herbs. The walls are lined with shelves of tea jars, some familiar, others he hasn’t seen before. A few potted plants sit near the windows, softening the atmosphere.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Falco says, setting his bag down behind the counter and turning to face the group. “We’ve been getting a lot more regulars lately. Gabi’s been keeping things running smoothly.”

Gabi grins proudly, twirling a strand of her hair. “What can I say? I’ve got skills.” She gestures to the chairs by the window. “Feel free to make yourselves comfortable. I’ll brew some fresh tea for you.”

“Not a tea kinda man,” Kenny waves her off.

“I meant Levi,” she raises a brow, looking Kenny up and down before going back around the counter. Falco follows her. His eye twitches, huffing to himself and turning to see Levi sitting in one of the open chairs with a small grunt. “Damn kid’s a smart-ass.”

“Good thing she is.”

Kenny sits beside Levi, tapping his foot against the floor. “Alright, about the—”

“Not here,” Levi is quick to shut him down, sending the older man a certain look. “Hold on.” Gabi comes back with Levi’s desired tea, along with Falco setting down a small report of how things have been since he’s been gone. Levi nods and thanks them quietly, sipping the tea. “You two, head outside for a second.”

Gabi and Falco simultaneously tilt their heads in confusion. But Falco speaks up first. “What? But we haven’t even had time to—”

“Outside.”

Gabi opens her mouth to protest, but Falco quickly cuts in with a muttered, “We’ll be outside,” before she can say anything more. The two exchange a glance, clearly confused, but they gather their things without further questioning. Gabi gives Levi an uncertain look before following Falco out the door.

Levi waits until the door shuts behind them before turning his attention back to Kenny. The air between them tightens instantly, the tension thickening as Levi sets his tea down on the table with a soft clink. He hesitates for a few seconds, unsure if he should entertain his idiotic uncle. But he has a feeling that no matter what, he’ll be a thorn in his side. “How much?”

Kenny grins. “Confidential, of course. Until you accept the job.”

Levi’s gaze hardens. “I’m not a fucking bodyguard, Kenny. I’m not some hired muscle, and I’m definitely not interested in babysitting some spoiled brat—no offense to her, but that’s not my scene.”

Kenny’s eyes gleam with amusement, the kind that makes Levi this much closer to punching him in the face. “That’s exactly why they need you. You’re not the kind of guy who takes orders, and that’s what she needs. Someone who can think for himself, who won’t just bow to her family’s whims. You know how it is in that world, Levi. People like her, they’re walking targets.”

Levi’s eyes flicker briefly to the door, as though expecting the others to walk back in, but the room is still empty. He rubs his temple, trying to keep his frustration in check. “And what makes you think I’d give a damn about protecting some rich girl? I’m not in the business of charity, especially not for people like her.”

Kenny leans forward, his voice lowering, almost coaxing. “You’re in the business of keeping your head above water, right? Getting by. This job? It’s a chance for you to cash in. You’re good at what you do, and I think you’ll find this… lucrative. Plus, you know it’s not asking for much. Just a little loyalty to the Suzuki family.”

Levi’s fingers twitch, the temptation gnawing at him. He’s always been a pragmatist, and this… this could solve a lot of problems, not just for him but for the people he cares about. But Kenny knows that too. “You’re asking for too much.” Levi finally meets his uncle’s gaze, his voice sharp, but controlled. “And you know I don’t work on other people’s terms.”

Kenny’s smile falters for a split second, but then he leans back again, his expression returning to that smug, confident air. “You’re still thinking like the old Levi. You’ve got a chance here to step up and make a real name for yourself besides ‘the strongest.’ You don’t have to play by their rules, you just need to keep her alive and out of trouble. It’s not that hard.”

However, Levi is still finding it hard to just give in so easily. He’s never been a bodyguard, but is being a soldier that much different? Just protect, right? However, he remembers your father; how couldn’t he? The little meeting that was held after the bomb Eldia dropped on Marley that led to a cease fire not too long after. He remembers the way he regarded him and his peers with concealed mirth in his eyes, clenched hands that made it known how much he despised losing and coming to terms with ‘the devils’. He hadn’t trusted him then, and he doesn’t trust him now. So why the hell is this same man trying to employ him?

He’s never met you, of course. Levi isn’t much to delve into media or the higher-ups. Just simple bits of you here and there is what Levi is accustomed to. All he knows about you is what he’s seen in passing—brief news clips, vague mentions, a face in the crowd of the powerful, the kind of people he’d rather ignore. He doesn’t pay attention to the higher-ups or the media, and certainly not to the rich and pampered. That’s always been a world Levi keeps his distance from.

Kenny, sensing his niece’s hesitance, softens up just a tiny bit. “Listen, why don’t you come with me tonight? Supposed to be meetin’ up with the man himself at some club; maybe you can get a feel of him there?”

Levi’s expression hardens, and he mutters under his breath, “I’ve never trusted him.”

Kenny, watching him carefully, seems to understand the unspoken question. “I get it. You’ve got a history with that man, and I can’t blame you for that. But this isn’t about him, kid. It’s about you—your future. You could save up for yourself and find a better place than some shitty, one bed apartment. If you stick to what you know, you’ll always be stuck in the past.”

Levi looks up, meeting Kenny’s eyes. There’s no warmth in his stare, only cold calculation. “What’s the catch, Kenny? You want me to babysit a rich girl to what? To get closer to him?”

Kenny holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Nothing like that, Levi. I told you, this is about keeping her alive. That’s all. The rest will follow. But you’ve gotta see it for yourself. You think you can read people? Come with me tonight. We’re meeting with your old friend at a club, and you can get a feel for the man.”

Levi’s gaze flickers toward the window, the streets outside bustling with life, and the idea of stepping into that world, even for a moment, gnaws at him. He’s been out of that circle for a long time—he doesn’t want to dive back into it. He enjoys his civilian life. But Kenny’s offer is tempting. Too tempting. He could get a sense of what was really going on and see if it was worth his time or if it was just another trap. Levi stands up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He doesn’t say anything at first, his back to Kenny as he pulls his coat tighter around his frame. The weight of the decision is pressing down on him, but he knows that if he turns Kenny down now, the man won’t stop. He’s relentless.

“Fine,” Levi says, his voice steady. “I’ll go. But don’t expect me to walk away from this thinking it’s anything more than a job. And I’m not playing nice.”

Kenny’s grin returns, more satisfied now as he stands. “That’s all I’m asking, Levi. Just keep your head straight. We’re in for a long game here, and you’ve got a front-row seat.”

Levi doesn’t respond. He understands he’s walking into unknown territory, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for it. But one thing is for sure—he’s going to find out what kind of man your father really is. And if he’s going to protect you, he’ll need to know exactly what—or who he’s up against.

A high-end gentlemen’s club was not what he was expecting. Tucked behind an unsuspecting bar, the neon blue cursive letters that spell out “The Silk Rose”. They flicker softly in the darkness of the not-so-early night, casting an almost dreamy-like glow onto the concrete below. The street outside is quiet, unassuming—nothing to hint at the kind of opulence that lies within. Levi eyes the sign, then glances at Kenny with mild irritation.

“This your idea of a professional meeting?” he mutters.

Kenny just smirks, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat. “You’d be surprised how much business gets done between overpriced scotch and soft lighting. Besides,” he adds with a wink, “Suzuki likes a certain… ambiance.”

Levi scoffs, and the scowl on his face deepens. Still, he follows Kenny inside, the brute bouncer at the door giving them a once-over before stepping aside wordlessly.

Inside, the contrast is immediate. Velvet-draped walls, soft jazz humming low over the speakers, and golden chandeliers that twinkle like stars overhead. It smells like expensive perfume and power. The kind of place meant to impress men who’ve forgotten what it’s like to hear the word no.

Women in silk dresses that barely pass for clothing drift across the room like ghosts, each movement precise, curated. But the staff aren’t the only ones dressed to kill. Men in tailored suits lounge in leather booths, cigars in hand, speaking in hushed tones. This is a playground for the elite, the dangerous, and the untouchable. Hushed conversations, soft laughs, teasing touches shared between those around aren’t what makes Levi’s nose crinkle with distaste. It’s the look in the men’s eyes that does. The way they eye every woman as if they are a toy to be played with—as if they’re the prey. No doubt the women here have caught on to the predatory nature the men wordlessly exude, yet they’re still here. In a sense, it almost begins to remind him of his mother.

Though he’d like to think she had at least a little more self-respect.

Kenny leads him toward a private room upstars and in the back, past thick velvet curtains. “Suzuki’s already here. Try not to look like you’re gonna kill someone.”

Levi’s jaw ticks. “No promises.”

Two tall men are standing, dressed in all black suits, on either side of the velvet red curtains that separate the wolves from their leader. The one on the right steps up, chest puffed out. He eyes both Kenny and Levi before speaking. “This area’s blocked off. Head back down.”

Kenny doesn’t break stride. He simply reaches into his coat, flashing something—an emblem, a card, maybe even just the weight of his name. Whatever it is, it’s enough to make the guard hesitate.

“He’s expecting us,” Kenny says, voice smooth but with an edge that suggests he’s not in the mood to repeat himself. “Now step aside.”

The guard’s jaw tightens, and he glances toward the other man, who gives a small nod. With a reluctant sigh, the first one steps back, tugging the curtain aside.

Kenny winks at him on the way in. “Atta boy.”

Levi follows his uncle, his boots nearly silent against the plush carpet. His eyes flicker over the details of the room like a sniper zeroing in. He can feel it—every inch of this place is designed to disarm, to distract. And yet, his guard is higher than ever. The private room is dimly lit, the atmosphere intimate, suffocating. A low table sits in the center, encircled by deep sapphire couches that seem to swallow anyone who sits in them. The scent of aged whiskey, cigar smoke, and some cloying cologne hits his nose instantly.

And there he is.

Makoto Suzuki sits like a man who’s owned the room since birth, legs crossed, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch. His suit is dark navy, custom, his tie just loose enough to suggest control disguised as ease. His grey hair is styled neatly back, and his auburn eyes are trained on the swirling dark liquid in his glass. There's a woman perched next to him, draped across the couch more like decoration than companion. She doesn't even look up. There’s four more of his henchmen standing beside the couch, two more seated at the tiny table in the corner engaged in a small game of cards.

At their arrival, they all look up.

Makoto’s gaze lifts slowly, and when it lands on Levi, something in it shifts. Calculating. Amused. Maybe even mildly impressed. He doesn’t stand, of course. Men like him don’t need to.

“Kenny,” he greets smoothly, lifting his glass in a faux toast. “And the infamous Levi Ackerman.” His voice is like smoke—polished, poisonous. Makoto gestures toward the open couch across from him, entirely unfazed by the cold stare he's receiving. “You’re taller than I remember.”

Levi doesn’t blink or sit. “You’re exactly how I remember.”

Kenny stifles a chuckle, plopping himself down on the couch and pouring himself a drink. “Let’s keep it civil, boys.”

Makoto lets the jab roll off him like mist off marble. He leans forward slightly, that same damned calm expression etched across his face. “So, Kenny, how’ve you been?”

Kenny exhales like he’s just settled into his favorite recliner, legs spread, glass already swirling in his hand. “Busy. Making deals. Babysitting this one,” he jerks a thumb toward Levi without looking at him. “Same old.”

Makoto’s smile twitches—just enough to acknowledge the remark without really responding to it. His attention, however, doesn’t drift far from Levi. The kind of look a lion gives a stray dog: amused, but watchful. “And yet, you dragged him here. Which means he knows he’s not just here for the ambiance.”

Levi still hasn’t sat. He doesn’t intend to—not yet. The air in this room is thick with the kind of arrogance that turns his stomach. This man, this entire place, reeks of money and power layered like cologne over something rotting beneath.

Kenny, unbothered, tops off his glass and throws back a sip before answering. “Told you I’d find you someone. Someone you could trust to keep your girl safe.”

Makoto’s brow lifts, gaze sharpening. “My daughter is not some damsel in distress.”

Levi’s voice cut in, low and steady, “Then why does she need a bodyguard?”

Makoto’s eyes narrow just slightly. Not insulted—curious. Testing him. “Not many people speak to me like that, Mr. Ackerman.”

Levi doesn’t flinch. “Not many people interest me enough to bother speaking to at all.”

There’s a long pause, heavy but not quite tense—just enough to let the power dynamics settle. The woman beside Makoto finally shifts after he makes a subtle shrug of his shoulder, and she quietly excuses herself as she rises and disappears through a side door, unnoticed by anyone but Levi.

Kenny raises a brow and shoots Levi a warning glance that reads behave, but he doesn’t say a word.

Makoto finally leans back, the lazy smile returning to his lips. “I don’t trust easily. You know this. But your name,” he gestures vaguely in the air, “it still carries weight. Especially with them.” His eyes flicker with meaning—whether it’s to the press, politicians, or war-hardened enemies, it’s unclear. Probably all of the above. “My daughter is… unique. She’s sweet, but not stupid. Pretty, but not a pushover. She doesn’t know what’s circling her yet, and that’s exactly why she needs protection. She knows her role, and I intend to have her keep playing that.”

Levi folds his arms. “Then hire a soldier.”

“I did,” Makoto replies simply. “I hired you.”

Something sharp passes between them. Understanding, maybe. Or recognition.

Kenny sighs, slumping further into the couch. “You gonna stand all night like a coat rack, or you gonna sit and listen?”

Levi eyes the couch like it might bite, then slowly moves to perch on the edge—not relaxed, not open. Always ready. His stare stays locked on Makoto.

Makoto studies him in turn, then finally gives a small, tight smile. “You’ve killed a lot of people, haven’t you?”

“So have you.”

The smile lingers, but it doesn’t quite reach Makoto’s eyes. “Then we’ll get along just fine.”

A silence settles again. Somewhere outside the door, the jazz track shifts to something slower, more sultry. Time continues as if the world doesn’t realize two predators just agreed to circle each other, for now. Then Makoto raises his glass again, eyes gleaming. “To the devil you know.”

Kenny chuckles, clinks his glass. Levi doesn't move. He just stares. Because to him, the devils have always worn suits like this one.

“How much?” He finally asks.

Makoto leisurely sips his drink, setting the glass onto the table between them.

He leans back, fingers steepling loosely in front of him, head tilted slightly like he’s just been waiting for Levi to ask. “How much is her life worth to me?” he muses aloud, as if the question is more philosophical than transactional. “More than any sum I could ever offer. But you, Mr. Ackerman—you’re not a man who wastes time with sentiment.”

Levi’s silence confirms it.

Makoto chortles. “Ten thousand a week. A private penthouse suite. Round-the-clock access to every resource you’d need—transport, intel, weapons, contacts. And no leash. You work how you want, answer to no one but me.”

Kenny whistles low beside him. “That’s one hell of a package, even for you.”

Levi doesn’t look impressed. “Sounds like you expect a war.”

The atmosphere is a live wire—thrumming between them, sparking with old blood and new stakes. It’s broken by Makoto rising from his seat, his men following. He straightens out his suit jacket and makes a motion with his fingers. “Come, I’ll show you the prize right now.”

And Levi finds himself reluctantly following along like a dog, and Kenny too. The group of men exit from the curtains, heading back down the spiraling staircase. The music softens as they descend the staircase, like the club itself is aware something heavier just entered the room. Without a word, the other guests make way for the group, some women sending flirtatious waves or doe-eyed smiles towards Makoto. Levi’s eyes flicker across the patrons who glance up, some pretending not to stare, others openly gawking. Power like Makoto’s always draws attention, and the entourage trailing behind only confirms it. Levi hates this part—the theatrics, the display, the illusion of untouchable grandeur. But he plays along, stoic as ever, even as they cut through the low hum of conversation like a blade through silk.

Makoto slides into the center seat at the lavish round table like a king returning to his throne. The plush leather molds around him effortlessly, his posture regal but relaxed. Levi takes the seat to his right, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the dramatics. Kenny flops down on the left like he’s done this a thousand times—which, knowing him, he probably has.

The men behind them form a wall of polished muscle and sharp gazes, stationed with silent obedience.

Makoto signals to a woman behind the bar with a simple glance, and almost instantly, she nods and disappears into the back. Levi’s gaze tracks the interaction, narrowing slightly.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

Only moments later, the crowd parts—slow and smooth—as you step out from behind the deep red curtain, flanked by two club hostesses who clearly pale in comparison. You're wearing a purple satin number, delicate and barely-there, its shimmer catching the warm light in all the wrong—and right—ways. Your hair is styled with effortless elegance, and you walk like you’ve never tripped a day in your life. Or like someone taught you never to look like you did.

Levi doesn’t breathe for a second. Not out of awe, but surprise.

He wasn’t expecting this. Well, you surely look…different.

You don’t look at the men who part like waves for you. You don’t even glance toward Makoto until you’re at the table, offering only a faint smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Father,” you say smoothly, voice soft but clear.

Makoto gives a pleased nod. “Darling,” he murmurs, like the word itself is another performance.

You look to the man beside him—Kenny—and offer a subtle tilt of your head, polite, reserved. Then your eyes slide over to Levi. Your gaze lingers.

And Levi… feels it.

Not just the scrutiny. But the weight of expectation. Of curiosity. Maybe even challenge.

“Having a good time?” Your father asks as you lean down, turning your head slightly so he can plant a reverent kiss on your cheek. “Mingling and all that, yes?”

You chuckle, red-stained lips curling upwards in a soft way. “Oh, yes, father. Of course I’ve been. I’ve made friends with some of those you've asked me to.”

There’s a silent look in your eyes—like you and your father are telepathically communicating. Levi’s eyes barely stray from you, forcing himself to get familiar with his charge’s expressions. Your father hums in approval, nodding. “Good girl.”

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, head tilting. “Though…maybe some of my friends are having a bit…too much fun.”

Makoto follows your line of sight toward a semi-rowdy group of older men. Drained glasses littering their table as one they laugh boisterously at their own jokes. Your father’s jaw ticks slightly, giving three of his men a tiny nod in the group’s direction.

The command is silent but understood. The three guards move swiftly—like shadows trained in courtesy and intimidation—drifting toward the group of men without needing to speak. Their presence alone sobers the laughter, draining it from the air like a sudden draft of cold wind. The drunkest among them nearly chokes on his drink, sputtering apologies before anyone even lays a hand on him. Levi doesn’t miss the shift. The way your lips press together just slightly. Like you're both amused and weary of what your father’s influence can do.

Makoto turns back to you, eyes glittering with a sharp kind of pride. “You’ve always had a good eye.”

You shrug lightly, folding your hands in front of you like you're nothing more than an accessory at the table. “I just like keeping things...elegant.”

It’s then that Makoto gestures toward Levi with the casual air of someone introducing a pet he’s particularly fond of. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’ll be looking after you from now on.”

You finally turn to face him fully.

Levi meets your gaze, this time with intention. The color in your eyes is sharp, observant—more calculating than your painted smile suggests. It’s a quick scan, top to bottom, and Levi feels it again. The test. Like you're waiting to see what kind of man your father’s put in front of you this time. “I see,” you murmur, tone unreadable. Then, with graceful attachment, you sit at the table—choosing the empty lap of Levi himself. He stiffens in surprise, his initial instinct urging him to push you off. Your sweet scent invades his nostrils instantly. However, he withstands it, deciding he wouldn’t like to deal with the consequences as of now. “You like wine, Mr. Ackerman?” you ask lightly, pouring yourself a glass from the bottle that was already waiting.

Levi doesn’t answer right away. His eyes study you, more than the wine, more than your dress. Trying to read between your lines. Trying to decide if you’re amused by all this. “I don’t drink,” he replies flatly.

“Oh, what a shame. This is the finest liquor in all of Marley.” You pout, bringing the rim of the glass to your lips. Your eyes don’t stray from his as you indulge, licking your lips clean when you bring it away. “My father must’ve really hired such a resolute man.” You chuckle, leaning forward slightly and sending your father a subtle glance.

“As resolute as there is.” Makoto huffs in amusement.

Makoto’s pride crackles in the air like a cigar ember burning low—hot, glowing, dangerous.

Levi doesn’t respond to the praise. He just sits there, solid and unsmiling, posture stiff beneath the soft weight of you in his lap. He can feel the way you effortlessly carry yourself. You wear your charm like a silk veil—delicate and graceful.

You swirl the wine in your glass, voice lilting as you speak again. “Will he be sleeping in my room too?”

Makoto chuckles low, slow. “Only if you give him reason to.”

Now it’s Levi’s turn to give your father a look. He almost wants to blurt out the obvious question of why he’s allowing you to act like this in front of him. Why he seems completely okay with a hypothetical situation of some man you just met sleeping in his daughter’s room. But instead, he’s joking about it—going along with it, enabling it.

Do you usually act like this with men?

Kenny lets out a bark of laughter at that. You glance back at Levi, brows lifting. “Do you take orders well, Mr. Ackerman?”

He stares back at you, unflinching. “Only from the ones I respect.”

You hum, intrigued but unshaken. “I suppose we’ll see if I earn that.”

The moment hangs there—heavy, stretched taut like wire. Then you slide off him in one smooth motion, as if the whole thing was just a test. A show of dominance in velvet gloves. You cross your legs and lean back in your seat beside him, your posture still elegant. The toe of your heel nonchalantly brushes against his calf, up and down.

Makoto raises his glass in a lazy toast, gaze moving between you and Levi. “To new arrangements,” he declares.

You and Kenny echo the sentiment, a sweet giggle falling from your lips. Glasses clink. Wine swirls. The club resumes its slow, seductive pulse around them—but Levi knows something in the air has shifted.

This wasn’t just a job anymore.

This was theater. A powder keg. And he was now sitting in the front row, watching it smolder.

And the woman sitting beside him—who had moments ago treated his lap like a throne—now looks like a statue carved from something more fragile than stone. Still, poised, but not entirely present.

Levi glances at you from the corner of his eye.

You're watching the club floor now, eyes half-lidded, fingers idly tracing the rim of your wine glass. You laugh at something Makoto says, soft and sweet, but Levi hears how hollow it is. Like you’ve told that laugh to show up on cue too many times. And as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed loosely, Levi’s thoughts crawl.

Makoto didn’t hire a bodyguard for your safety. Not really.

He hired a leash.

But Levi Ackerman doesn’t do leashes—not for long.

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@bouquetoflove @reivelmin @teal-anchor @wakasaishot

809 notes · View notes

kkalnxtdoor · 2 months ago

Text

the way my heart broke in a million pieces is embarrassing..

FRIENDS? - LEVI ACKERMAN

Synopsis: Y/N is Erwin’s younger sister, new to the Scouts, and she’s determined to make Levi her friend, even if the odds (and everyone around her) are against it.

Hope you like it!

---

The wind on the top of the Wall was sharp and loud, howling through the Scout Regiment’s outpost like it had something to prove. You’d only been here a week and already regretted bringing so few scarves.

“Y/N,” Erwin’s voice cut through the air like the wind wasn’t even there, deep and steady, “whatever you do, don’t get involved with him.”

You blinked, glancing up from your half-laced boot. “With who?”

He didn’t answer right away, just tilted his head toward the edge of the courtyard where three new recruits stood: a tall boy with messy hair and a calm face, a girl with a scar under her left eye and a wild laugh, and in the middle—short, arms crossed, and eyes like sharpened obsidian—Levi Ackerman.

The infamous thug from the Underground.

“That’s Levi,” Erwin said. “Keep your distance. He’s… complicated.”

You snorted. “You’re literally the one who brought him into the Scouts.”

“Yes. And I don’t need my little sister turning it into a social experiment.”

But it was already too late. Your eyes had caught on Levi’s like a bad habit. He looked at you once and turned away just as quickly, completely unimpressed.

Rude.

You liked a challenge.

---

A few days later, you found your opening in the form of Isabel.

She was loud, fast-talking, and absolutely loved your hair.

“Oh my god, it’s so soft! Do you condition it in Wall Rose or something? Because this doesn’t feel like Wall Sina water, you know?”

You laughed, letting her play with the ends. Farlan, who’d been standing nearby, shook his head fondly.

“Don’t let her touch your things. She’ll braid your horse’s tail if you let her.”

“I’d braid yours too, Farlan,” Isabel shot back. “He has nice hair, don’t you think, Y/N?”

“I think I want to braid Levi’s,” you grinned.

Both Isabel and Farlan froze.

Farlan blinked. “You... want to what?”

“Talk to him,” you said innocently. “Make friends.”

Isabel snorted. “Good luck. He barely talks to us and we’ve known him forever.”

“You say that like it’s a challenge.”

Farlan raised a brow. “You’re Erwin’s sister, huh?”

You nodded, proudly.

He winced. “Yeah, Levi’s not gonna like that.”

---

Later that night, after a rough training session and a mild scolding from Hange for turning a vertical maneuver lesson into a competition with Isabel, you spotted Levi sitting on a barrel near the stables, sharpening one of his blades. Alone.

Perfect.

You straightened your uniform, smoothed your hair back, and walked over.

“Hi.”

He didn’t look up.

“Your boots are clean,” you said.

He stopped sharpening and finally met your gaze. His eyes were unreadable.

“That’s the first thing you say to someone? ‘Your boots are clean’?”

You shrugged. “It’s a compliment. Sort of.”

He stared at you a second longer, then went back to his blade.

You stood there. And stood. And stood.

Finally, his voice came again, flat and quiet. “You can leave now.”

You blinked. “But I just got here.”

“And I didn’t ask you to.”

Rude again.

You walked off, cheeks hot, just in time to almost collide with Mike Zacharias.

“Oh—sorry—Mike!” you laughed nervously.

He narrowed his eyes, sniffed the air, and then looked back toward the stables. “Were you talking to him?”

“Maybe.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just shook his head and walked off muttering something about “reckless siblings” and “stabby little criminals.”

This wasn’t going to be easy.

But you were determined.

If you could get Isabel to let you do her hair, and Farlan to teach you card tricks, then Levi Ackerman was only a matter of time.

Right?

---

“You’ve got that look,” Mike grunted, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall outside the mess hall.

You blinked up at him, holding two bread rolls and a stolen apple. “What look?”

He sniffed. “The ‘I’m about to make a terrible decision’ look. Looks a lot like the one Erwin gets when he's planning something insane.”

“I’m just bringing lunch,” you muttered, stepping past him.

“To Levi,” Mike said, flatly.

You froze.

Mike raised an eyebrow, slowly.

“I’m just—he barely eats. Isabel said—”

“Isabel's dead.”

The words fell like bricks.

You stood there, the rolls now heavy in your hands.

You hadn’t heard him come up behind you, but Erwin’s voice was colder than the wind.

“She was reckless,” Erwin said quietly. “And now she’s gone. Farlan too. Don’t make the mistake of thinking he wants to talk to you.”

You swallowed. “Maybe he doesn’t want to. But I do.”

Erwin’s jaw clenched. “He’s dangerous right now, Y/N. Grief doesn’t make people softer.”

“I’m not asking him to be soft,” you said, voice a little sharper. “I just don’t want him to be alone.”

Neither of them said anything. So you walked off.

---

Levi hadn’t spoken to anyone since the expedition.

Isabel had died screaming. Farlan too. You hadn’t been there—not in the same squad—but you’d heard the stories. It had been terrible.

But Levi—

Levi didn’t shed a tear. Didn’t yell. Didn’t eat. Just existed. Like a shadow.

You found him in the old storage wing of HQ, surrounded by crates of supplies. He was sitting on the floor, head back against the wall, cloak dirty and tattered.

You sat beside him without a word.

He didn’t look at you.

You placed the roll between you both. He didn’t reach for it.

Silence.

Then—

“I told them not to go ahead,” Levi murmured. “Told them to wait. But they thought they could help.”

Your heart cracked.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “They were my friends too.”

He laughed. But it was bitter, hollow. “You knew them a month.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Another silence. Then, softly:

“They were all I had.”

You turned toward him. “Then let me be something.”

Levi looked at you—really looked—and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that wasn’t ice.

It was pain.

It was fury.

It was guilt.

But it was alive.

“I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Then what is it?”

You hesitated. “It’s me. Just… caring.”

He stared at you. Then looked away. But he didn’t tell you to leave.

He didn’t say anything when you leaned your shoulder gently against his.

And when his hand twitched slightly, just slightly, closer to yours on the cold floor, you didn’t move away.

---

Back in the main hall, Erwin stood at the window, arms crossed, watching the snow start to fall.

Mike approached, silent as always.

“She’s still with him,” he said after a while.

Erwin nodded once. “Yeah.”

Mike sniffed the air. “He doesn’t hate her.”

“No,” Erwin said quietly. “That might be the problem.”

---

It started with silence.

Then sharing meals.

Then training side by side.

And now, it was this.

Levi stood behind you, hands loosely behind his back as you adjusted your grip on the twin blades. The sun had barely risen, but the two of you had been on the training field for an hour already. He didn’t speak much during these early mornings, but you knew when he was watching you—his eyes were like a scalpel, dissecting every movement.

“You’re dropping your left shoulder again,” he said quietly, stepping closer.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Good morning to you too.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t fix it.”

“You could just say ‘nice try,’ y’know.”

He stepped around you and reached out—hesitating for a second before his fingers lightly pressed your shoulder back into place.

“You rely too much on instinct,” he said. “Start using your brain.”

“I am using my brain,” you muttered. “That’s how I knew coming out here with you was a terrible idea.”

Levi smirked.

That was new. The smirking.

It had been eight months since the mission. Eight months since Isabel and Farlan died. Eight months since you started sitting next to Levi at dinner, joining his early patrols, dragging him into conversations he didn’t ask for, and refusing to leave when he glared.

And he stopped glaring.

He started teaching.

And eventually, listening.

Sometimes, after the rest of the squad had gone to bed, you’d sit across from him in the candlelight, knees pulled to your chest, listening to him talk—really talk. Not about feelings (he wasn’t wired for that), but about the world below, about Farlan’s obsession with poker, about Isabel’s snoring. About how the Underground stank like damp stone and regret.

You started opening up too. About Erwin. About how suffocating it was being “the little sister.” About the pressure of legacy. About how badly you wanted to prove yourself—not just to the Scouts, but to yourself.

And through it all, Levi listened.

He didn’t always reply, but he never walked away.

That was more than enough.

---

Of course, not everyone was a fan.

“You spend too much time with him,” Mike muttered as the two of you cleaned gear near the stables.

“He’s my squadmate,” you replied, not looking up.

“He’s not just your squadmate.”

You finally raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mike didn’t answer at first, just sniffed the air and scowled.

“You’re getting too close. He’s dangerous.”

You paused, the polishing cloth still in your hand. “He’s not the one sniffing people and growling at them.”

“Sniffing is useful,” Mike grunted. “And I don’t growl.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious, Y/N.”

“So am I,” you said, quieter this time. “He’s not who he was when he got here. People change.”

“People like that don’t change.”

“Maybe you don’t know people like that.”

Mike glared. But even he couldn’t deny it. You were stronger now. Sharper. Faster. Levi trained you harder than anyone else dared to. He didn’t coddle you. He didn’t soften the truth. He saw your flaws and forced you to look at them. And weirdly... he made you feel capable.

That scared Mike more than anything.

---

Later that week, during a joint exercise in the forest, a squadmate fell from a branch and nearly impaled himself on the treetop below. You reacted fast, maneuvering down with ease, blades drawn, balancing his weight with your gear until backup arrived.

Levi watched from above, silent and unreadable.

Back at HQ, as you cleaned the scratches on your forearms, he showed up at your door without knocking.

“You’re reckless,” he said.

“I saved his life.”

“You could’ve died.”

You tilted your head. “You’re mad because I did what you’d do?”

He was quiet for a moment.

Then: “I’m not mad.”

“Then what are you?”

“…Annoyed.”

You smiled. “You’re always annoyed.”

He stepped closer. “Only when it’s you.”

Your heart skipped.

But before you could reply, he turned and walked away, cape swishing behind him like a goodbye.

---

Back in the hallway, Erwin leaned against the wall beside Mike.

“She’s getting better,” Mike grunted.

“She’s getting too close,” Erwin muttered.

“Yeah,” Mike said. “She’s gonna break her own heart.”

Or his.

---

A year later

There were legends about you two.

Levi and Y/N.

The heart and the blade.

Steel and warmth.

Discipline and grace.

New recruits whispered about you like you weren’t real. That Levi Ackerman—cold, ruthless, unreadable—had a partner who smiled at everyone, who patched up wounds with steady hands and spoke gently even after slaying a dozen Titans.

You weren’t just good.

You were extraordinary.

And everywhere Levi went—you were there too.

In battle, your signals were instinctual. One flick of your eye and he’d shift his gear midair to cover your blind spot. One small cut on his arm and you were there before he even flinched.

Everyone knew it.

Everyone saw it.

Especially Erwin.

“She’s the only one who can pull him back,” he muttered once to Mike, watching the two of you argue over supplies in the yard. You were poking Levi in the shoulder, and he was looking away with an expression that was almost a smile.

“He listens to her,” Mike agreed, chewing on a piece of dried meat. “That’s rare.”

“You still hate him?”

Mike grunted. “Not as much. She’s made him… less of an asshole.”

---

But Levi wasn’t smiling, not really.

Not when he watched your hair blow in the wind as you ran training drills with the cadets.

Not when you laughed with Hange over tea, your boots still dusty from patrol.

Not even when you leaned your head on his shoulder in the strategy room, eyes closed for just a second of rest.

Because every time he looked at you, his chest pulled tighter.

Because every time he caught the way other soldiers watched you—admired you, adored you—something ugly settled in his throat.

Because every time you looked happy, he thought:

How long until I lose her too?

He had lost Farlan.

He had lost Isabel.

He had lost more names than he could remember.

And you—you—had become the only person that made this endless cycle of blood and loss feel survivable.

But the thing about getting close, was that you didn’t know how close you were until the idea of losing them made your hands shake.

---

“Hey,” you said softly one night, finding him alone on the rooftop, cloak wrapped around your shoulders.

He didn’t turn, but his body relaxed the second he felt you beside him.

You didn’t speak for a while.

The moon was full. The wind was soft.

And Levi was quiet in that dangerous way—like he was holding too much behind his teeth.

“Something wrong?” you finally asked.

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re bad at lying.”

He exhaled slowly, then shifted, eyes on the wall far below.

“You shouldn’t rely on me so much,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “Where did that come from?”

“I mean it,” he said, jaw tight. “You’re strong on your own. You don’t need me.”

You stared at him. “That’s not how this works.”

“People around me die, Y/N.”

You said nothing.

He looked at you now, finally, fully.

“They die and it’s my fault. I don’t want you to be next.”

You swallowed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

His voice broke at the edge.

And that’s when you took his hand.

Just one hand, yours slipping into his like it was always meant to.

“Then let me choose to stay anyway.”

Silence.

The wind stirred your cloak.

His fingers didn’t let go.

---

The next morning, a scout who barely knew you two made the mistake of asking Levi if you were “available.”

Levi stared at him for five full seconds and then said:

“She’ll kill you before I need to.”

You laughed for a full minute.

Mike almost choked on his coffee.

----

The mission wasn’t supposed to go that far north.

It wasn’t supposed to get that bloody.

And it sure as hell wasn’t supposed to fall apart like this.

But there you were.

Bleeding into the snow.

---

Everything happened fast. A cluster of Titans had flanked the rear unit—faster, smarter than expected. Chaos broke out. Screams, gear snapping, bones crunching. Levi was in the center, blades flashing, and you were two trees away when you saw it—his cable snagged, a second Titan lunging behind him, jaws wide.

You didn’t think.

You never thought when it came to him.

You launched forward with every ounce of strength you had, slashing through bark, smoke trailing your path, blood pumping so loud you couldn’t hear Erwin shouting behind you.

You got there in time.

You saved him.

But not before the other Titan’s hand crushed you midair.

You heard the crack.

So did Levi.

---

When they found you, you were unconscious.

Your leg was twisted, blood leaking from your ribs, your harness shredded. Levi was on his knees beside you, pressing his hands to the wound on your stomach, whispering things no one could hear.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Not you.”

Erwin dismounted and froze at the sight. His chest collapsed in on itself. Mike had to drag him away while the medics stabilized you, shaking his head with fury.

“You were supposed to protect her,” Mike growled at Levi later, when your body was being loaded onto the cart, limp as a doll.

Levi said nothing.

He just stared at his own hands.

They were still red.

---

You didn’t wake up for three days.

Levi didn’t leave the hallway.

---

When your eyes finally opened, it was Hange at your side. Then Erwin. Then Mike, who nearly broke a chair in his relief. You tried to ask where Levi was, but your throat was dry and your body screamed.

He didn’t come.

Not that night.

Not the next.

Not even when you were strong enough to stand again.

He wasn’t there.

---

“I don’t get it,” you muttered one evening, pacing the training yard with your limp. “He won’t even look at me.”

Mike exhaled. “He blames himself.”

“I chose to save him.”

“Yeah, and you almost died. You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

Mike looked at you for a long time, then shook his head.

“Never mind.”

---

Meanwhile, Levi stood on the highest wall of HQ, wind biting through his coat. He didn’t feel it.

“She almost died,” he muttered, voice low.

“She didn’t,” Erwin replied calmly beside him.

“She almost died,” Levi said again.

“She’s a soldier. That’s the risk we all take.”

“She took that risk for me.”

Erwin said nothing.

Levi clenched his jaw. “If I’m the reason she dies—”

“She’s not dead.”

“—Then I shouldn’t be near her.”

Erwin’s brow furrowed. “So you’d rather push her away and make her suffer that too?”

Levi didn’t answer.

But he didn’t walk back inside, either.

---

You found him that night.

He was in the old stable, cleaning gear alone like always, back hunched, movements sharp.

“You’re avoiding me,” you said simply.

He didn’t look up. “You should be resting.”

“I did rest. I waited. Now I want answers.”

Levi paused. His knuckles were white.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said finally. “You shouldn’t have saved me.”

“Would you rather be dead?”

“Yes,” he snapped.

Silence.

You stared at him.

He met your gaze, and his expression cracked. Just for a second.

“I don’t want to watch you die, Y/N.”

“I’m not dead,” you said, voice shaking.

“You almost were.”

“You think pushing me away is going to stop that from ever happening again?”

He looked at you, eyes dark and tired. “Yes.”

You stepped forward. “Then you don’t know me at all.”

You turned, your limp sharper now, and left before he could see your face crumble.

He didn’t follow.

But he wanted to.

God, he wanted to.

---

You stopped waiting.

It hurt too much.

You stopped looking for him in the halls.

Stopped leaving the extra cup of tea out in the morning.

Stopped asking Mike if he’d seen him that day.

You smiled at the cadets. You trained. You fought.

But you didn’t go to the rooftop anymore.

Didn’t wander by the stables hoping to catch him polishing his blades.

Didn’t try to pull words from a man who’d clearly made up his mind.

And Levi?

Levi watched it all from a distance.

And it gutted him.

He thought he was protecting you.

He thought that if he stayed away, maybe you’d stop loving him, and you’d be safe.

But watching your smile dim every time you walked past him?

Watching you sit on the opposite side of the table, laughing too brightly at Hange’s dumb jokes?

Watching Mike pat your shoulder with that big hand of his like he could keep you safe?

It made something snap.

---

The night it happened, it was raining.

You were alone in the armory, checking weapons after drills. The storm outside was heavy, loud, familiar.

You didn’t hear the door open.

But you felt him.

His presence always came like gravity—sharp and inescapable.

You turned around.

Levi stood there, soaked, his hair dripping rainwater into his collar, his hands clenched at his sides like he’d been holding something in for years.

“Y/N,” he said.

Your stomach twisted. “Captain.”

His jaw ticked. “Don’t call me that.”

You blinked. “What else should I call you? You made it pretty clear we’re nothing anymore.”

He stepped forward, breath shallow. “That’s not true.”

“You haven’t spoken to me in weeks.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“By hurting me?”

He flinched like you’d hit him.

You stared. “Why are you here, Levi?”

He was quiet. The rain thundered outside.

Then:

“I’m in love with you.”

Your breath caught.

He stepped closer, eyes locked to yours. His voice was low. Fractured. Honest.

“I’ve been in love with you since the first time you stood in front of a Titan like it wasn’t the end. Since you smiled at me like I was human. Since you looked at me and didn’t flinch.”

You couldn’t speak.

“I didn’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to love someone like you—someone good. Someone who still laughs, even after all this.”

His hands were shaking now.

“I’ve never loved anyone like this. It terrifies me. Because everything I love dies.”

You stepped forward.

“Then I guess I’m terrifying too,” you whispered.

He blinked.

“Because I love you, Levi,” you said. “I’ve been in love with you since you told me I was the only person you trusted with your back. Since you stood outside the infirmary for three days. Since you gave me your tea and pretended it was because you ‘weren’t thirsty.’”

Silence.

Rain poured against the windows like it was trying to drown the world.

Then Levi stepped forward and kissed you.

It wasn’t perfect—it was messy and desperate, and his hands trembled on your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear mid-touch.

But it was real.

And when he pulled back, forehead against yours, he whispered:

“You make me want to stay.”

You closed your eyes.

“Then stay.”

PART TWO??

306 notes · View notes

kkalnxtdoor · 3 months ago

Text

oh hell yeah.

Levi watches as a soldier takes your body measurements, he knew that it was needed, the new black uniforms were vital for new theaters. But he didn't like the way the guy was looking at you as he took the measure of your shoulders and then moved onto your waist. He scoffs leaning against the wall, it was thier job, he shouldn't interfere, you were getting your measurement taken, that's all. Yet Levi taps his foot on the ground impatiently, he doesn't want go cause a scene nor distrubute the soldier in his work but he really doesn't like how close the dude is to you.

He looks back as the soldier moves onto your hips, his hands lingering on your skin. Levi didn't like that. Not one bit. After you were finished, you smiled, thanking the soldier who went over to write your measurements down. "Done?" Levi asks, voice a little rough. Just then, the guy looks over. "The paper has already been filled.." He stops but then continues. "...and every measurement is disturbingly accurate." You look over at Levi. He won't admit it, but he did fill those out. Levi knew your body better than anyone, he had seen you naked just a few hours prior to this. "Papers can be funny like that. Shall we go?" Levi asks, and you can see the smug look on his face as he puts his hand on your hip when you make your way to the door however Levi stops in his tracks. "Oh and soldier? Next time get the measurement of her thighs right."

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kkalnxtdoor · 3 months ago

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STOPPP I CANT-

I am getting total dad vibes from Levi here.

Levi “hey brat, don’t you walk away to brood while im talking to you”

Erin “lalalala, I can’t hear you”

Levi “you are gonna get it mister”

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kkalnxtdoor · 3 months ago

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hiii! I just wanted to say I love your Levi Stories. Especially The Last Return, it's just so sweet that he had someone waiting for him, he deserves the best!!!! I also wanted to request another story for him with a fem reader. reader was on a mission in the city and i sback on her way to the hq when she sees a child stuck on a frozen cracking lake. She saves the child (have you seen Rise of the Guardians where Jack frost saves his sister, maybe like that) but falls in the water herself. She manages to save herself and goes home but falls sick? If this is too specific or you just don't like it, than just ignore my request! I hope you have a lovely day!!

Frozen Stakes

English is not my first language, so if you find mistakes, feel free to contact me!

Synopsis: On your way back from the city, you spot a child stranded on a frozen lake and don’t hesitate to risk your life to save him. In the aftermath, you battle hypothermia and a fever, but as you recover, Levi’s quiet, unwavering presence reveals a rare glimpse of his care, even as he keeps his feelings carefully guarded.

warnings/content: Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, angst and fluff, 5.077 words

The wind howled through the trees, sending flurries of snow spiraling into the air, each gust a biting reminder of the winter's unforgiving grasp. The ground was thick with ice and snow, the landscape an unrelenting sea of white, dotted only by the dark, skeletal trees that towered over the path. The cold seemed to sink into your bones, and with each breath, the freezing air burned your lungs. The world felt like it was holding its breath, the stillness broken only by the crunch of hooves against snow and the occasional murmur of your squad.

You pulled your cloak tighter around yourself, grateful for the warmth it provided, though it hardly seemed enough against the biting cold of the afternoon. The sun was low on the horizon, barely a pale smear in the gray sky, and the snowflakes fell like delicate feathers, their descent slow and graceful, almost mocking in their beauty. The air smelled of ice, of winter settling into the earth, and of the ever-present tension that lingered beneath the surface.

"It had been a quiet journey back to headquarters after you and Eld had handled some squad business on Levi's behalf in the city. Though the snowstorm had reduced visibility, the deep tracks of hooves in the snow were the only sign of life. It was clear that winter was coming to an end, with the weather slowly but surely improving after weeks of endless cold.

Eld's steady presence beside you was comforting, a reminder of the bond you'd built with your fellow squad members. His eyes were sharp, scanning the horizon as he nudged his horse forward, clearly aware of the dangers that came with traveling in these conditions. The last thing anyone needed was a surprise attack, or worse—an accident in the unforgiving wilderness.

The cold wasn't the only enemy you had to contend with. The tension in the air, though unspoken, seemed to cling to the snowflakes as they fell around you. You couldn't help but notice the way Levi's absence seemed to make the silence feel heavier. There was a constant awareness of his absence, as though the quiet was waiting for him to break it with his usual bluntness, his sharp commands or biting comments.

As your horse trudged through the snow, you could see the outline of the distant lake, its surface almost perfectly smooth, untouched by the passing winds. The cracked ice along the edges of the lake gleamed faintly in the low light, a stark reminder of the danger the season brought with it. You briefly wondered if Levi had ever let his guard down in weather like this, if he, too, felt the weight of winter's chill as something more than just the weather. But before your thoughts could wander further, Eld's voice broke the silence, pulling you back to the present.

"Do you see that?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.

You blinked and followed his gaze. Just ahead, standing at the very edge of the frozen lake, a small figure was motionless, seemingly frozen in place. The child's thin frame was almost swallowed by the expanse of white, their small form a stark contrast against the vastness of the icy expanse. The child stood, looking down at the crackling ice beneath his feet, unblinking, unaware of the danger he was in.

The mother was nearby, her figure barely visible as she paced back and forth along the shore. The distress in her voice reached you even from this distance—the sound of a parent who had already lost hope but refused to stop trying.

Eld cursed under his breath and kicked his horse into a trot. "We need to get to them. Now."

The urgency in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and without hesitation, you dismounted from your own horse, your boots crunching in the snow as you made your way toward the scene. The wind whipped at your face, but you focused only on the task at hand. The child was standing on the ice, frozen not in fear but in a child's ignorant curiosity, oblivious to the danger just beneath their feet.

Eld moved quickly beside you, his expression grim. The mother had stopped pacing, her hands shaking as she reached out to the child, but the ice, now cracking beneath her frantic steps, made it clear that she couldn't reach them in time.

You exchanged a glance with Eld, both of you knowing the risk. Every minute counted. The ice was no longer stable, and the boy's fate hung in the balance.

"Stay here," you murmured to Eld as you approached the mother. You could hear her sobbing now, her voice thick with panic.

"I can't let him fall in," she whispered, eyes wide, frantic. Her voice broke on the last words, and her trembling hands extended toward you.

"We'll help him. Just stay back," you said, trying to keep your own voice steady as you looked around, searching for any way to reach the child without causing the ice to break beneath you.

Eld kept a careful watch, his eyes scanning for any other danger, but his attention remained focused on you. There was no time to waste.

The tension in the air thickened as you searched the area, feeling the weight of the responsibility press down on you. You had to be quick. There was no room for mistakes.

You approached the mother, her hands trembling as she continued to call out to her child, her voice a mixture of fear and desperation. The child, no more than six or seven years old, stood in place at the center of the frozen lake, staring down at the cracking ice beneath them, oblivious to the imminent danger.

"Stay here," you repeated in a low voice, not wanting to distract him from watching the surrounding area. His eyes remained locked on the child, but his posture was tense, clearly ready to act at any moment.

You focused on the mother instead. Her eyes were wide with terror, and her entire body shook. "Please, help me," she pleaded, her voice thick with panic. "I can't get close to him—what if the ice breaks? Please, do something!"

You nodded, trying to project calmness in a situation where panic threatened to take over. "We'll get him off safely," you assured her, your voice steady. "You just need to stay back."

Her hands shook as she reached for you, but you could tell she understood the danger. She stepped back, keeping her gaze fixed on her boy, her lips trembling but silent now as she watched helplessly.

You turned your attention back to the lake. The cracking ice was loud now, and every moment the child stood there seemed to risk them falling in. You swallowed hard, your breath forming mist in the cold air, and scanned the edges of the lake. Your eyes landed on a long, sturdy branch sticking out of the snow, a potential lifeline.

With a swift, deliberate motion, you moved toward it, testing the ice beneath your feet as you stepped carefully. Each crack that followed made your heart beat faster, the ice groaning as though warning you to turn back. But there was no turning back now. The child's life was at stake, and you had to act.

You reached the branch and picked it up, feeling its weight in your hands. It would be just long enough to reach the child, if you were careful. As you started back toward the lake, you shouted, "Hey! Grab this!" hoping to get the boy's attention. He turned to you, eyes wide with confusion and no understanding of the danger surrounding them.

The ice cracked again, louder this time, a sharp sound that seemed to echo across the lake. The child jolted, eyes wide in fear, but remained rooted in place. You took a deep breath, took one step closer, and shouted again, this time with more authority, "Grab the stick! Hold onto it!"

The child's small hands reached out, trembling as they grasped the branch. You took another step, feeling the ice shift under your feet. The lake groaned in protest, a low, terrifying sound, but you didn't let it stop you. You focused on the boy, your mind sharp, your every movement measured.

The ice cracked beneath you again—louder, closer this time. You felt it shift and give way slightly. "Hold on tight!" you called as you yanked the branch forward, pulling the child across the ice, using all your strength to move them toward the shore.

The motion sent you sliding in the opposite direction—farther out, toward the heart of the lake. Your stomach dropped. Glancing back, you saw how the kid had toppled down, but where he was now, the ice was stable enough for Eld to grab the boy's clothes and pull him fully to the edge of the lake.

But you… You were too far out now. And you felt it.

The ice beneath your boots flexed again—whining like a wounded animal. You didn't have time to react. A deafening crack split the air.

Then the ice vanished beneath you.

Freezing water slammed around your body like a fist. Your breath caught in your throat, stolen by the sheer violence of the cold. Your head submerged, eyes burning, lungs aching. Panic roared in your ears as you flailed instinctively, the weight of your soaked gear dragging you down.

You kicked, clawed upward—your hand breaking the surface, fingers scrabbling at the jagged ice.

A gasp tore from your throat as you broke the surface, coughing, shaking, every breath like inhaling knives. You tried to grab hold of the ice edge again—slippery, cracking, crumbling under your fingers.

"Y/N!" Eld's voice was closer now.

You looked up through wet lashes to see him stepping onto the ice, inching toward you.

"No!" you rasped, throat raw. "Stay back—Eld, you'll fall in too!"

"I can reach you!" he shouted.

"You'll die trying!" you screamed, one hand still clinging to the edge of the ice, the other dragging at the water with weakening strokes.

The surface groaned beneath him. Another spiderweb of cracks bloomed outward.

"Please—just let me try!" Your teeth chattered so hard you could barely speak. Your arms were lead, your fingers numb. The cold was starting to win.

You sucked in a breath and pushed down with every ounce of strength you had left, elbows scraping hard ice, legs kicking against the water's resistance. For one awful moment, you slipped again—face plunging into the water—then surged back up with your last strength.

You slammed your forearms on the surface, and threw your torso up onto the ice. It held. Barely.

You laid there, panting, coughing violently as your lower body still dangled in the freezing water. Eld hovered just out of reach, eyes wide with helpless fury.

With one last heave, you dragged yourself fully onto the ice, rolling away from the shattered edge. You carefully made your way toward where the ice thickened slightly, toward the edge of the lake where Eld stood with panicked eyes, his hand outstretched, ready to grab you the second you were close enough and pull you to safety.

Eld was finally able to reach for you, gripping your arms and hauling you the final few feet onto more solid ice. "I've got you," he muttered, voice rough with worry as he pulled you in against him. "You're alright. You're alright now."

You wanted to answer—to reassure him somehow—but your jaw was clenched too tight from the cold, your teeth chattering so violently it hurt. Your fingers couldn't hold onto anything anymore. You were trembling uncontrollably.

"Shit… you're freezing." Eld stripped off his cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders, tucking it tight as he half-lifted, half-carried you toward the road where your horses were tethered.

Your knees buckled on the way there, legs barely responding to your mind's desperate commands. Eld caught you under the arms before you hit the ground, hoisting you up with more strength than finesse. "Easy—come on, just a bit further."

You barely registered the sound of hurried footsteps crunching in the snow ahead. The mother appeared—disheveled, sobbing, her arms wrapped tightly around the small boy you'd pulled from the lake. The child was safe now, wrapped in a thick scarf and held so tight you could hardly see his face.

"I—I didn't see him go out there—oh god—thank you—thank you—" The mother's words tumbled out through her sobs as she fell to her knees in front of you.

You blinked down at her, trying to focus, but everything sounded distant. Muffled. Like your ears were stuffed with wool. Her words blurred together, washed out by the roar of your pulse and the painful chatter of your teeth.

You tried to nod, to say something—anything—but Eld stepped in gently.

"She's freezing. We have to move," he said, not unkindly. He helped you into the saddle, lifting you carefully and settling you forward against the horse's neck. You slumped with a quiet gasp, your limbs useless, vision blurring at the edges.

"You're not riding alone like this," Eld said firmly, already swinging up behind you. He pulled you back against his chest, steadying you with one arm around your waist while taking the reins with the other.

"You with me?" he asked close to your ear.

You managed the smallest nod, though you weren't entirely sure he saw it. Every bump of the horse's gait sent icy pain radiating through your bones, but you didn't complain. You couldn't. You just pressed your cheek to the warmth of Eld's cloak and let the rhythm of the ride lull you into a half-conscious haze.

You were vaguely aware of the mother still calling after you—tearful, grateful—but it all felt so far away now.

All you could feel was cold.

Eld's grip tightened slightly as he sensed you sway in the saddle, your body's tremors too much to control. He pulled you closer, keeping you steady. "You idiot," he murmured, but his voice was gentle, his worry obvious despite his usual composed demeanor.

The snowstorm seemed to grow even harsher as you continued along the narrow path. Winds howled around you, biting at any exposed skin. Your eyelids felt heavy, and for a brief moment, you could barely hold your head up. Every step, every beat of the horse's hooves felt like an eternity, the cold threatening to pull you under at any moment.

The distant outline of headquarters appeared like a mirage, too far away, yet a beacon of warmth and safety that you could almost taste. Your heart stumbled in your chest, a glimmer of hope reaching you through the fog of exhaustion.

As you neared the gates of headquarters, Eld's movements grew more frantic. The fear in his posture had melted away into urgency, and you felt the tension in his body as he urged the horse forward, faster now, desperate to get you inside. The gates loomed closer, and with them, the promise of safety.

When you arrived, Eld wasted no time. He jumped off the horse first, swiftly pulling you into his arms before you had a chance to slide off. The world seemed to spin, but he didn't give you a moment to lose balance. You were back on solid ground now, but your body was still trembling, the cold threatening to consume you whole.

Gunther, Oluo, and Petra stood nearby, and the moment they saw you, their expressions shifted from concern to shock.

"What the hell happened?" Gunther's voice was sharp as he approached, eyes wide as he took in the sight of you, drenched, shivering violently, and looking like you were on the edge of collapse.

Oluo was already ranting, his eyes flickering with disbelief. "Why are you soaking wet in this weather?" he snapped, his hands flying in the air. "We are in the middle of a snowstorm! You look like you're about to freeze to death! What the hell are you thinking?!"

Petra immediately took charge, her worry evident but her movements efficient. "Stop yelling, Oluo. Eld, get them inside, quickly. Gunther, go and get Captain Levi."

With Petra guiding the way, Eld gently lifted you again, one arm around your waist, the other supporting you as you made your way towards the building. You could barely keep your head up, your body still shaking uncontrollably. As you were carried inside, the warmth of the building hit you like a hammer. It was almost too much. Your teeth chattered louder, the heat of the room making your body shudder even harder.

"Come on, we've got to get them changed," Petra said firmly, directing Eld and Oluo to help you to your room. You didn't have the strength to protest as they moved you toward the bed, and all you could do was try to focus on breathing. The cold that had seeped into you seemed so deep that you feared it would never leave.

Once inside, Petra shooed the boys out and moved quickly to strip off your wet clothes, her hands gentle despite the urgency in her actions. "You're going to be fine," she reassured you, but her voice was strained, worried. "Just breathe. Let me get you out of these wet clothes."

Petra worked fast, helping you into dry, warm clothes, her touch soft as she carefully dressed you. "I know you're cold, but we've got to get your blood moving again," she said, her words brisk and practical. She pulled a blanket around you after, making sure you were bundled up tightly.

As soon as she finished, Petra stepped into the hallway to get Eld. "We'll stay with her, you go and find more blankets."

Eld nodded, rushing down the hall while Oluo sat down next to you. His eyes were sharp and full of worry. "You're lucky you didn't freeze out there," he muttered, though it was more to himself than to you.

He sat beside you, his presence a constant as you slowly started to warm up, the feeling returning to your limbs bit by bit. The world around you felt muffled, distant, as you drifted between consciousness and the comforting embrace of sleep.

That quiet didn't last long.

The door slammed open with the force of a small explosion.

Captain Levi stormed in, boots thudding hard against the wooden floor, Gunther right on his heels. Levi's eyes scanned the room in a fraction of a second—taking in your soaked clothes on the ground, your trembling form, the pallor in your face, your blue lips. His jaw clenched.

"She's hypothermic," Petra said quickly. "We're trying to warm her, but—"

"Not fast enough," Levi cut in sharply. "Gunther, the fireplace in my room. Now."

Gunther didn't hesitate, already turning to carry out the order.

Levi stepped closer, his voice low and precise. "Blankets won't unfreeze her quick enough like this."

He turned to Oluo. "Help me move her."

You felt arms around you again—gentler this time but still efficient. Levi's grip was steady, unshakable. He didn't speak, but you could feel the intensity rolling off him like pressure in the air before a storm.

By the time you were being guided toward Levi's room, Gunther had the fireplace lit, flames licking to life and beginning to cast a golden glow across the room.

Levi barked over his shoulder, "Gunther—couch. Push it to face the fire."

Gunther grunted and got to work, dragging the heavy piece of furniture across the floor with some effort.Just as the couch scraped into place, the door opened again.

Eld stepped in, breathless, arms piled high with thick blankets. Petra trailed behind him. She had gone to get him after Levi relocated you to his room, their cheeks flushed from rushing through the halls.

"She was shaking too hard," Petra said quickly. "We thought we'd need as many as we could find."

Without waiting for permission, Eld moved forward and began draping the blankets over you layer by layer—one across your legs, another around your shoulders, tucking the edges in as if trying to build a barrier between you and the cold that still clung to your skin like a second layer.

You could barely lift your arms to help, but you felt the weight and warmth begin to settle. The firelight danced across the room, casting soft flickers of gold and orange against the dark wood walls.

Levi shifted in beside you, his movements uncharacteristically gentle as he helped adjust the top blanket around your neck and shoulders. He didn't speak at first—just watched you, those sharp gray eyes narrowing slightly as if he were memorizing every visible sign of your condition, calculating.

Then, finally, he spoke, quiet but deadly firm. "What the hell happened out there?"

You opened your mouth, but the words caught in your throat, the ache in your lungs and the fog in your brain too thick to push through. A small sound escaped—more breath than voice—but it was enough to stop Levi from expecting more.

"She needs to rest," Petra said quietly, stepping closer. "She's been in the cold too long."

Levi didn't take his eyes off you. "I'm not asking her."

Eld stepped forward, still standing a little stiff from the tension in the room. "It wasn't her fault," he said quickly. "There was a child—he'd wandered onto a frozen lake just outside the city. The ice was thin. She saw that he was about to fall through and didn't hesitate."

Levi's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

"She got him away," Eld continued, his voice softening. "Saved his life. But she… fell in during the rescue. The water was freezing. We got her out as fast as we could, but she wasn't doing well by the time we reached the headquarters."

Levi's expression didn't shift, but the firelight caught the smallest flicker of something behind his eyes—something sharp, something dangerous.

"You should've stopped her," he muttered, barely audible.

"I couldn't have," Eld said, his tone edged with guilt. "She acted fast. There wasn't time to think."

For a moment, no one spoke.

The fire crackled behind you, warmth beginning to seep deeper into your limbs, though your body still trembled under the layers of blankets. Your eyes fluttered open just enough to see Levi watching you, his gaze unreadable now—cold, but not with anger. Something else.

He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping to a murmur only you could hear.

"You could've died."

You blinked at him, your lashes heavy with exhaustion, and barely managed to rasp, "But… the kid didn't."

Something flickered in his expression again—this time unmistakable. Not anger. Not disapproval. Just the quiet burn of unspoken emotion tightening around his features.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, straightening back up.

"Get her warm. Get her stable," he said to the room without looking at anyone. "And someone keep her off missions until I say otherwise."

"Yes, sir," Petra and Gunther echoed softly.

Levi stood but didn't leave. Not right away.

Instead, he moved to the side of the couch and took a seat in the armchair closest to you, arms crossed, watching the fire—but his eyes flicked to you every so often, like he was making sure you hadn't slipped away.

And you didn't.

You let yourself drift—blanketed in warmth, in the quiet murmurs of your squad, in the silent, ironclad presence of your captain, who didn't say another word.

But he didn't leave your side, either.

The warmth from the fire should have been enough. But hours later, despite the thick cocoon of blankets and the steady heat radiating from the hearth, your body still wouldn't stop shaking. The tremble had faded for a time, but now it returned with a vengeance, curling through your limbs like a tide that wouldn't recede.

Your skin burned, but you felt cold. So cold.

Voices floated in and out of your ears—soft, hushed, indistinct. Someone checked on you again. Petra, maybe. Or Gunther. A cool cloth brushed against your forehead, but it did little to ease the heat beneath your skin.

At some point, you realized you weren't on the couch anymore.

You were tucked beneath a blanket in a bed—Levi's bed, you vaguely registered—clearly moved at some point during the night. The scent of leather and fresh linen clung faintly to the sheets. The fire still glowed nearby. Someone had been tending it.

Your head throbbed. Your muscles ached. And your throat was dry and sore with every shallow breath.

Then you heard it—quiet footsteps, precise and light. A pause.

You cracked your eyes open just barely.

Levi stood beside the bed, arms folded, face tight with concern he wasn't bothering to hide anymore. In the firelight, the shadows carved deep lines into his expression, but his eyes locked on yours the second he noticed you were awake.

"Tch. About time," he muttered, voice low.

You tried to speak, but your voice cracked into nothing. Levi reached to the table beside the bed and poured water into a tin cup. He slid an arm under your shoulders, lifting you just enough to tilt the cup to your lips.

"Drink. Slowly."

The water stung going down, but you obeyed, grateful for the relief. Your body felt too heavy to move on your own, so you let him support your weight until the cup was empty.

He lowered you back down gently, eyes scanning your face. "You've got a fever," he said flatly. "It spiked a couple hours ago."

You managed a soft, broken whisper. "Didn't think I'd get sick."

Levi raised a brow, unimpressed. "You fell into a frozen lake. You're lucky it's just a fever and not pneumonia."

You tried to smile, but it barely twitched at the corners of your lips. "Still saved the kid."

A long pause.

Then, softly: "Yeah. You did."

Levi stood again, turning back toward the chair beside the bed. But instead of sitting, he adjusted the blanket around your shoulders—tucking it in tighter, smoothing it over your arm without a word.

You watched him, heavy-lidded.

"You staying?" you asked, slurring slightly.

He didn't answer right away.

"I'll be here," he finally said, quietly, pulling the chair a little closer and settling in. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't do anything stupid in your sleep."

Your eyes slipped closed again, breath shallow but steady.

And as sleep pulled you under, you felt it—that quiet, solid presence. The one that said, without needing to speak.

You're safe now.

The fever clung to you for days.

You drifted in and out of sleep, time slipping like water through your fingers. The room changed around you—Petra sitting by your side, replacing cold cloths; Gunther quietly checking in with food you couldn't stomach; Oluo grumbling about your recklessness when he thought you were asleep; Eld apologising for not thinking of another solution.

But the one constant, through every hazy blink and every murmur that stirred you awake, was Levi.

He never said much. He didn't hover or fuss. But he was always there.

You'd feel the blanket being adjusted. A warm cup pressed to your lips. The fire crackling behind him while he sat quietly reading or cleaning his gear with that familiar intensity. Once, you woke in the middle of the night to find him dozing lightly in the chair beside the bed, arms crossed, brows still furrowed like he could scold the fever out of you if he tried hard enough.

By the fourth morning, the fever broke.

You woke to sunlight pouring in through the frosted window, sweat clinging to your skin, your limbs aching but no longer trembling. Everything still hurt, but your mind was clearer—no longer buried under the thick fog of illness.

Levi wasn't in the chair.

For a moment, you thought he might've left, until you heard the quiet sound of water splashing. He stepped into view from the adjoining washroom, sleeves rolled up, a fresh cloth in one hand.

He paused when he saw you watching him.

"You're awake." It wasn't a question.

You gave a faint nod. "Think the fever's mostly gone."

He crossed the room and pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, his fingers steady and clinical—but there was something gentler in the way he lingered just a second longer than necessary.

"Still warm," he muttered. "But not burning up anymore."

You sank back into the pillows, exhaling slowly. "Did I miss anything?"

He scoffed, setting the cloth aside. "No. You're not that important."

You smiled, weak but amused. "Harsh."

Levi sat on the edge of the bed, arms resting on his knees. "You scared the hell out of them," he said after a moment, eyes on the floor. "Petra, Eld, Gunther. Even Oluo couldn't shut up for more than ten minutes."

"And you?" you asked, voice quiet.

He looked at you then, eyes sharp but unreadable. "I'm not in the habit of letting my soldiers drown in frozen lakes."

You studied him for a long second. "That's not what I meant."

A pause stretched between you. The fire popped in the hearth behind him.

Levi let out a slow breath. "You didn't even think twice. Just ran out there."

"There wasn't time to think," you murmured. "That boy would've died."

He nodded once, but his jaw was tight. "Next time, think faster."

You let out a soft laugh. "That your way of saying you were worried?"

Levi didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted to the fire, then back to you. "I didn't leave this room for days," he said flatly. "Take that however you want."

Your heart stumbled in your chest.

"…Thank you."

He stood then, brushing invisible dust from his uniform. "Don't make me do it again."

You watched him turn toward the door, then hesitate at the frame. His hand hovered over the handle before he glanced back at you, expression unreadable. "You did good," he said quietly. "Saving that kid."

Then he was gone, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

And despite the lingering aches and exhaustion, warmth bloomed in your chest—deeper and more lasting than the fire could ever provide.

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