lyrastark94

[lyrastark94]

DANGEROUS MISSION - SATORU GOJO (+ MEGUMI, ITADORI AND NOBARA)

Synopsis: Gojo sends the kids to a special grade mission without telling you, and they come back badly injured.

The moment Y/N stepped into Jujutsu Tech’s quiet, dim-lit corridor that evening, something felt wrong.

She had brought snacks. Homemade, warm, packed for three insatiable teenage stomachs. Nobara always asked for the spicy chips. Yuuji had a thing for that ridiculous soda with the marble. And Megumi—well, Megumi just ate whatever was quietly put in front of him, but Y/N always made sure his favorite rice crackers were in there.

She was humming when she opened the door to the lounge. But it was empty.

No laughter. No Yuuji jumping over the couch. No Nobara demanding someone pay attention to her new eyeliner. No Megumi curled up with a book, pretending he didn’t care.

Her smile faded.

“…Where are the kids?” she asked Shoko, who was walking past with bloodied gloves.

Shoko looked up, then froze.

“Oh. You didn’t know?”

“Didn’t know what?” Y/N’s voice sharpened.

“They were sent on a mission. Earlier today. Out in Saitama.”

Y/N’s heart slammed in her chest.

“Who the hell sent them on a mission without telling me?”

Shoko blinked. “They’re sorcerers, Y/N. It happens.”

“They’re kids.” She was already moving. “And I’m not asking again—who sent them out?”

But Shoko didn’t get the chance to answer.

The doors to the main hall burst open.

And then—

The sound that would haunt Y/N’s nightmares for weeks.

A thud. Then another.

Yuuji was the first one she saw—half-carried by Kento Nanami, blood running down his forehead, eyes dazed. His uniform was torn, drenched in red. One arm was held to his side in a way that looked wrong.

Nobara stumbled in next—wrapped in a coat, limping, her mouth set in a grim line, face bruised and pale. She wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

And Megumi—her Megumi—was unconscious.

Shoko and two other medics rushed forward, shouting for stretchers.

Y/N’s bag hit the floor. Snacks scattered everywhere. Her legs were already moving, fast, too fast, skidding to a stop beside Megumi’s stretcher as he was lowered down.

Shoko barely managed to intercept Y/N before she threw herself at Megumi’s stretcher. Megumi was starting to wake up.

“What the hell happened?” Y/N asked, voice shaking. “For God's sake, Yujii are you hurt? Megumi? You are. Why are they like this? What happened?!”

None of the three said anything.

Yuuji looked at Nobara. Nobara looked at the wall. Megumi closed his eyes.

Y/N stood still, staring at each of them in turn.

“…Who. Sent. You?”

Silence.

“I’m asking you a question.” Her voice dropped into something deadly soft. “Who sent you?”

“Y/N, it’s not a big—” Yuuji tried.

“YUUJI, YOU HAVE BLOOD ON YOUR TEETH!” she screamed, pointing at his face. “DON’T TELL ME IT’S NOT A BIG DEAL!”

The air turned ice cold. Nobara flinched. Megumi looked away.

Y/N took one shaky breath.

“You’re all teenagers. You’re supposed to have a handler on missions like this. Who sent you out alone?”

Finally, Megumi muttered, “It was… Gojo.”

The silence that followed was unbearable.

Y/N blinked.

“…Satoru?”

No one answered.

“…Satoru? He sent you? On a mission like this?! And didn’t tell me?!”

As if summoned by the sheer rage radiating from her, the door opened again.

And there he was.

Gojo Satoru. Tall. Calm. Cheerful. Absolutely oblivious.

“Heyyy! I heard there were a few scratches—”

SLAP.

The sound cracked across the room.

Even Shoko dropped her clipboard.

Gojo stumbled half a step back, blinking slowly, hand moving to his cheek. “Did you just—?”

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND, SATORU?!”

“Y/N—”

“NO. NO. DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO TALK.” She shoved him hard in the chest. “YOU SENT THEM. YOU SENT THEM. ON A SPECIAL GRADE MISSION.”

“They’re—”

“THEY’RE CHILDREN!”

“They’re sorcerers, Y/N, they’ve trained for—”

“BULLSHIT! LOOK AT THEM! LOOK AT MEGUMI! HE’S BARELY BREATHING! YOU COULD’VE— YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN THEM KILLED!”

Gojo’s jaw clenched. “You think I don’t know that?!”

“I THINK YOU DON’T CARE ENOUGH TO THINK AT ALL!”

The kids were frozen.

Nobara was white as a sheet. Yuuji kept whispering “Oh my god oh my god oh my god.”

Megumi had a pillow over his face.

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE STRONGEST! THE ADULT! THE ONE WHO PROTECTS THEM!”

“AND YOU THINK I DON’T WANT TO?!”

“THEN WHY?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?! WHY WOULDN’T YOU TELL ME?!”

“BECAUSE YOU’D YELL EXACTLY LIKE THIS!”

“I’M YELLING BECAUSE THEY ALMOST DIED, SATORU!!”

Shoko threw her clipboard.

“OUT.”

“What—”

“BOTH OF YOU. OUT. NOW.”

“I’m not—”

“OUT! Take your stupid white blindfold and your girlfriend and SCREAM SOMEWHERE ELSE.”

Y/N opened her mouth—

“OUT.”

Gojo put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on—”

“DON’T TOUCH ME.”

She stormed out. He followed.

The door slammed behind them, shaking the glass.

Inside, the silence was deafening.

“…Do you think they’ll break up?” Yuuji whispered.

Nobara blinked. “I didn’t even know she could scream.”

Megumi, muffled: “I warned him.”

Shoko sighed. “They’re not breaking up. They’re just being dramatic. Idiots. Hot idiots. But idiots.”

---

The walk back to the room was dead silent.

Gojo trailed behind Y/N like a ghost, not saying a word. His blindfold was off now, hanging limp from his fingers, and his jaw was set tight like he was biting back everything.

Y/N’s hands were still trembling when she shoved the bedroom door open.

“Y/N, please—”

“DON’T,” she snapped, not even turning around. “Don’t even try to explain it.”

“We need to talk about—”

“NO, we don’t! Because if I hear your voice right now, Satoru, I swear I’m going to break something.”

Gojo leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Well, you already broke me, so what’s one more thing?”

That stopped her for a second.

But she didn’t answer.

She started pacing instead, rubbing at her face, mumbling to herself. “They were covered in blood—Megumi was barely awake! Yuuji couldn’t even sit up straight. Nobara’s arm is broken. I swear to god, if Shoko hadn’t been there—”

“They handled it.”

“THEY SHOULDN’T HAVE HAD TO!” she screamed again, finally turning to face him. “They’re kids, Satoru. Kids. And you sent them into a special grade like it was just another Tuesday.”

“They needed the experience. They were ready—”

“They weren’t. Not for that.”

“They survived.”

Y/N’s face crumpled. “Oh my god. That’s your standard? ‘They survived’?!”

Gojo’s jaw twitched.

Y/N stood in the middle of their bedroom, fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms.

“You sent them,” she growled, eyes locked on him like daggers. “You sent Nobara. Yuuji. Megumi.”

“I already told you—”

“YOU SENT THREE TEENAGERS INTO A SPECIAL GRADE, SATORU!”

“I MADE A CALL!”

“NO,” she snapped, stepping forward, fire rising behind her eyes. “You made a mistake. You SENT THEM—YOU SENT OUR KIDS—INTO HELL.”

His jaw tightened. “They’ve been trained. I wouldn’t have if I thought they couldn’t—”

“YOU SENT MEGUMI!” she screamed, voice cracking. “YOUR OWN SON!”

Silence.

Gojo’s expression twitched—just a second, just a flicker—before he said flatly:

“He’s not my son.”

The silence after that was brutal.

Y/N froze.

Her breath caught.

She blinked once. Twice.

Then her voice exploded like a grenade:

“WHAT THE F** DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?*”

Gojo didn’t flinch, but his eyes shifted. A tiny crack.

“Don’t twist this—”

“HE’S NOT YOUR SON?!” she screamed. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND?! YOU RAISED HIM! YOU TAUGHT HIM TO FIGHT, TO STAND, TO LIVE—HE LOOKS AT YOU LIKE A FATHER!”

“I never asked for that!” he shouted back suddenly, voice booming.

“AND HE NEVER ASKED TO BE AN ORPHAN!” she shrieked. “BUT HE GOT YOU! HE GOT US! AND YOU’RE THROWING HIM AWAY BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANNA FACE THE GUILT?!”

“I’M NOT THROWING HIM AWAY!”

“YES, YOU ARE!” she jabbed her finger into his chest. “You’re pushing every single person away the second they get too close! Because if you care, it’ll hurt! So you act like you don’t!”

“Don’t pretend you know what it’s like to be me.”

“I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT’S LIKE TO LOVE YOU!” she screamed. “AND I KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO WORRY THAT ONE DAY, YOU’RE GONNA COME BACK FROM A MISSION AND DECIDE TO STOP!”

His eyes flared with something unreadable—fear? Anger? Shame?

She stepped back, breath shaking. Her voice was raw now.

“You may not call him your son. But I do. And he is. And if you won’t protect him, then I will.”

She turned, stormed to the door again, and just as she pulled it open, she added through her teeth:

“Don’t follow me.”

And then she was gone, footsteps thudding down the hallway toward the infirmary once more.

Gojo stood in the middle of the room.

Frozen.

Broken.

And utterly alone.

---

She made it back to the infirmary in record time, ignoring the nurses and the other staff who tried to call out to her. She just marched straight to Megumi’s bed and dropped to her knees beside him.

He was sleeping.

Nobara was still awake, propped up against the wall with a blanket over her. Yuuji was whispering something to her that made her laugh weakly—until they saw Y/N, and the guilt returned like a wave.

“I brought snacks,” she said quietly, setting a bag down. “And some drinks. Nothing too sweet.”

“Y/N…” Yuuji sat up a little. “Hey. Don’t be mad at Gojo-sensei, okay? He really thought we could handle it.”

She didn’t answer. Her hand moved automatically to brush Megumi’s bangs away from his bruised forehead.

“He’s an idiot,” Nobara mumbled, “but he’s not evil. And he really does care about us.”

Y/N’s lip wobbled.

“He sent Megumi,” she whispered. “He sent his own son into a special grade.”

“It was my decision too,” Megumi said hoarsely, barely opening his eyes. “We didn’t tell him the whole thing. It escalated.”

Y/N turned, her eyes wide. “What?”

“I said we’d be fine,” Megumi muttered. “We all did.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, tears brimming. “You don’t get to protect him, Gumi.”

“I’m not. I’m telling the truth.”

She exhaled shakily. “I just… I can’t lose any of you.”

Yuuji reached out for her hand and squeezed it. “You won’t.”

---

It had been four days.

Four days since the screaming. Four days since the slap, the heartbreak, and the words no one could take back.

Four days since Y/N had stepped foot into their shared apartment.

She’d been staying at the infirmary. Shoko gave her the small cot near the window, where she kept vigil over Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara, even long after they were cleared to go. She just… didn’t leave.

Gojo hadn’t come to see her once.

And no one knew what to say.

The kids exchanged glances constantly, silently communicating through looks. The tension was miserable.

Megumi sat cross-legged on his bed, watching Y/N carefully place a cold towel on Nobara’s forehead, even though she was perfectly fine.

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” he mumbled.

“Yes, I do,” she said softly, not looking at him.

Yuuji, chewing on a protein bar, spoke up carefully. “Y/N-san… you and Gojo-sensei…”

She paused.

Megumi immediately stiffened. “Don’t.”

“I’m just asking!”

Y/N straightened up, back rigid, like she’d braced for impact. “We’re not talking,” she said flatly.

Megumi frowned. “Because of us.”

“No,” she said instantly, sharp. “Don’t you ever think that. This isn’t your fault.”

Nobara raised a brow. “Are you sure? Because we were literally bleeding on arrival and—”

“It’s not your fault,” Y/N repeated, turning to face them. “It’s his. He made the call. You obeyed orders. I would’ve obeyed him too.”

“But he didn’t mean it,” Yuuji said gently. “What he said. About… Megumi.”

Megumi looked away. They know because they heard Lyra telling Shoko what Gojo said.

Y/N blinked fast. “I don’t care,” she whispered. “I don’t care if he didn’t mean it. He still said it. He meant it enough to throw it in my face.”

The room went silent again. Thick and heavy.

Suddenly, Nobara huffed and stood. “Okay. This is insane. You both are walking around like ghosts.”

“Nobara—”

“No, seriously!” she snapped. “Just make up already! This is worse than being stabbed in the gut!”

Yuuji nodded with his mouth full. “I second that.”

Megumi said nothing. But he didn’t look at Y/N. He couldn’t. It hurt too much.

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were red-rimmed from days of no sleep.

“I’m going to get some air.”

As she left, the door barely closed behind her before Megumi muttered under his breath:

“He’s miserable too.”

Nobara glanced at him. “He should be.”

“Yeah,” Megumi said, quietly. “But I think he’s scared.”

Yuuji leaned back with a groan. “So we’re just gonna sit here while our surrogate mom and dad are at war?”

“Yes,” Nobara said dramatically, lying back. “Because if we try to meddle, we’ll die.”

---

Meanwhile, Gojo stood just outside the infirmary.

He'd come three times that day.

Each time, he walked away.

Because every time he lifted his hand to knock, he remembered the look in her eyes the night she screamed:

“HE’S NOT YOUR SON?!”

And he couldn't face it.

Not yet.

But he missed her.

More than anything.

---

Yuuji stood outside the faculty storage room, holding an absolutely unhinged grin and a key he definitely wasn’t supposed to have.

“You guys ready?” he whispered.

“I still think this is a dumb idea,” Megumi muttered, but didn’t move.

Nobara rolled her eyes. “You have zero romantic vision.”

Inside the building, Gojo walked toward the room, reading a suspiciously vague message on his phone:

> “Urgent! Y/N needs to speak to you. Faculty storage. Now.”

–Shoko

Suspicious? Yes.

Would he still go? Also yes.

At the exact same time, Y/N followed a note from Shoko herself saying:

> “Come to the faculty storage. Bring the first aid box. Someone’s injured.”

And because she trusted Shoko with her life, she walked straight in.

The moment Gojo turned the corner and Y/N stepped into the room—slam.

Click.

“WHAT THE HELL—?!”

Y/N spun. “Gojo?!”

“Why are you here?!”

“Shoko said someone was hurt—”

Gojo grabbed the handle. Rattled it. “It’s locked.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no—"

Outside.

Nobara smirked. “It worked.”

Yuuji and Megumi pressed their ears to the door.

“Are you two IDIOTS?!” Y/N’s muffled voice shouted from inside.

“Oh come on,” Gojo drawled. “Can’t be worse than getting stabbed.”

Inside the storage room, the silence between them was thick again.

Gojo leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Are we really going to keep pretending this isn’t slowly killing both of us?”

Y/N didn’t answer.

He took a breath. “I miss you. Every minute you’re not with me, I miss you.”

Still quiet.

“Look, I was an idiot. I am an idiot. I didn’t mean what I said about Megumi. I was scared, Y/N. I thought if I acted like I didn’t care, I could live with myself if I lost any of you.”

He turned to face her fully. “But I lied. I care more than I can stand. About them. And about you.”

She finally looked up. Her eyes glistened.

“I was mad for the mission, but with what you said about Megumi? You broke my heart, Satoru.”

He stepped closer. “Then let me fix it.”

Y/N sniffed. “I still think you’re an arrogant, emotionally constipated disaster.”

His lips curled into a crooked smile. “I love you too.”

“…Idiot. But don't you dare send them to a mission like that, alone, again. And you better apologize with Megumi. Although he seems like he doesn't care, he's hurt.”

They stood there for a moment before Gojo pulled her into a hug so tight she melted into it, arms around his waist, face pressed to his chest.

Outside, Yuuji gasped. “Did they just make up?!”

Megumi looked away. “I think he cried.”

Nobara fist-bumped the air. “We did it.”

Suddenly, the door swung open.

Gojo stepped out dramatically, arm around Y/N. “You meddling little gremlins.”

Nobara crossed her arms. “Someone had to do it.”

Yuuji beamed. “You’re not mad?”

Y/N smiled gently. “We’re… getting there.”

Gojo grinned. “But next time you trap me in a closet—make sure it’s stocked with snacks.”

Megumi just stared at him. “You’re the worst role model.”

“And yet,” Gojo said, smug, “you turned out just like me.”

“Don’t. Ever. Say. That.”

---

Megumi sat on the edge of the roof, staring out over the Tokyo skyline. The night air was cool, and the moon hung low, casting long shadows across the empty space. He was alone—well, not exactly.

Gojo’s footsteps were quiet, almost too soft as he approached. He’d been avoiding Megumi for days now, not knowing how to fix what he’d broken.

There was a sense of guilt hanging over him, so heavy it nearly crushed his chest. He had said things to Megumi—things he never should’ve said.

"I’m sorry."

Megumi didn’t look at him. “Don’t apologize. You said what you meant.” His voice was quiet, and it was clear he wasn’t angry anymore, just… exhausted.

“I didn’t,” Gojo muttered, his voice low. “I was angry. And scared. But I didn’t mean it, Megumi.”

He walked over to where Megumi sat, sitting down beside him, legs hanging off the edge.

"You're my son." Gojo’s voice was steady now, a little softer than usual. He looked at the boy beside him, eyes serious for the first time in days. “You’re my son. And I meant it when I said I’d protect you, no matter what.”

Megumi finally turned to face him. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something Gojo couldn’t read. “You don’t have to keep saying that.”

“I do, though,” Gojo insisted. “Because I think I’ve been trying to deny it. To pretend I’m not attached. But I can’t. Not anymore. You’re not just some student to me, Megumi. You’re family.”

Silence hung in the air between them, the weight of Gojo’s words settling in. The rooftop felt even colder now, but it wasn’t the night air that gave him chills. It was the vulnerability in Gojo’s voice.

“You’re not just my son.” Gojo added quietly, looking down. “You’re important to Y/N too. You have no idea how much she cares about you. I think that’s what scared me the most…” He trailed off, realizing how far he’d gone.

Megumi was quiet, thinking for a moment. His eyes softened just slightly as he turned to Gojo. “I don’t need you to protect me, you know.”

Gojo laughed, a little bitter. “You’re still my kid. Even if you don’t need me, I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry for pushing you away, for what I said. I just—" He stopped, swallowing. “I don’t know how to be this way with you, you know? Being a dad? It’s not easy for me.”

Megumi didn’t respond immediately, just letting Gojo’s words settle. Then, in his usual, matter-of-fact tone, he said:

“Just don’t do it again.”

Gojo looked at him, a small, relieved smile creeping across his face. “I won’t, kid. I promise.”

Megumi nodded, still not completely convinced, but accepting the apology all the same. They sat there for a moment, just looking at the city below, the tension between them finally easing.

Gojo cleared his throat. “So, uh... about Y/N… we both know she’s gonna kill me if I mess up again, right?”

Megumi gave him a small, ghost of a smile. “Yeah. Probably.”

Gojo chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “Alright. So, we’re good then? Father and son?”

Megumi shrugged, but there was a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. “I guess so.”

“Good.” Gojo’s smile softened as he clapped him on the back. “We’ll figure it out, Megumi. Together.”

[lyrastark94]

FRIENDS? (PART TWO) - LEVI ACKERMAN

PART ONE HERE ↓

Synopsis: Erwin's younger sister is having a secret romance with captain Levi.

WARNINGS: Mentions of sex.

It was dangerous—what they were doing.

Not because they were breaking protocol. Not because it would spark rumors. Not even because Mike had caught Levi brushing dirt off her shoulder and narrowed his eyes like he’d just seen a crime scene.

No.

It was dangerous because Erwin would murder Levi Ackerman in cold blood if he knew Levi was sneaking into his sister’s room every single night.

Not for anything scandalous.

Most nights, they just lay there.

Legs tangled. Her cheek on his chest. His hand curled around her fingers like letting go meant death.

Levi didn’t sleep well without her anymore.

He hadn’t, since that night.

---

They were careful. So careful. Y/N would leave five minutes before morning bells. Levi would walk the long route around HQ just to avoid being seen near her quarters.

They timed patrol shifts. They had a coded knock on her door. They used Hange as a cover more times than either of them were proud of.

And no one suspected a thing.

At least… not at first.

---

“Why are you always late to the meetings now?” Mike asked one morning, squinting at Levi.

Levi shrugged. “Overslept.”

“You don’t oversleep.”

“I do now.”

Hange coughed into her mug suspiciously.

Y/N walked in two minutes later, out of breath.

“I overslept too,” she lied.

Mike stared at them both.

Narrowed his eyes.

Said nothing.

---

At night, Levi would wait for the hallway to go quiet. Boots gone. Voices gone. Lights dimmed.

Then he’d knock once.

Twice.

Pause.

She’d open the door, sleepy-eyed, in one of his old shirts. And he’d just melt.

“Rough day?” she’d whisper.

He never answered. Just pressed a kiss to her forehead like that was answer enough.

---

He never planned to fall this hard.

She wasn’t like anyone else.

She was warmth and sharpness and softness all at once.

She still laughed. Still believed. Still made tea even after the worst days.

And when she smiled at him like he was safe?

He knew he’d burn the whole world for her.

---

They were subtle. Professionals. No one knew.

…Until one afternoon in the war room when Erwin raised an eyebrow and said:

“Captain, you’ve been unusually agreeable lately.”

Levi blinked. “I can be agreeable.”

Mike snorted.

Hange leaned in, grinning. “You smiled last week. Smiled. I almost called a medic.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Get out.”

Erwin watched him carefully, then turned to his sister.

“You’ve been humming lately.”

She froze mid-sip of tea.

“Just in a good mood,” she said too fast.

Erwin narrowed his eyes. “Are you seeing someone?”

Levi coughed so violently he nearly choked.

Mike looked delighted.

Hange mouthed: busted.

But Y/N just smiled sweetly. “No one you know.”

---

That night, Levi collapsed onto her bed, face in her pillow.

“He’s going to kill me.”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He knows.”

She grinned, climbing in next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.

“Then I guess we better be more careful.”

He turned his head to look at her, face soft, voice low.

“I’m not careful when it comes to you.”

“Clearly.”

She kissed his shoulder, cheek, then his lips. And he melted. Again.

---

Because every morning he left her room just before sunrise.

And every night he waited until the base was asleep just to feel her next to him.

He’d never had this.

Never thought he could.

But here it was.

A secret.

A risk.

A life.

---

They were supposed to be alone.

Everyone was out—training schedules staggered, Erwin locked in meetings, Mike and Nanaba scouting the perimeter, Hange “dissecting something disgusting.”

It was the perfect window.

So, of course, it went horribly wrong.

---

Levi had just closed the door to her quarters behind him when Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

“You’re early,” she whispered.

“You complainin’?”

She turned him around, slow, deliberate. “Never.”

The kiss started soft.

It never stayed that way.

Levi’s hands found the hem of her shirt.

Her mouth pulled a sigh out of him he didn’t know he had.

He kissed her like he hadn’t in days—desperate, intense, all-consuming.

One hand braced on the wall.

The other tangled in her hair.

Her fingers were sliding under the collar of his shirt.

He kissed her harder.

And that’s when the door opened.

---

“Y/N—have you seen—”

Silence.

Erwin stood there.

Blinking.

Expression unreadable.

Mouth slightly open.

Y/N gasped and shoved Levi away.

Levi blinked like someone had dropped a brick on his head.

Erwin’s eyes dropped to Levi’s hand, still splayed across his sister’s waist.

Then to Y/N’s lips.

Then to the way her shirt was definitely on inside out.

“…Commander,” Levi finally croaked.

“…Captain,” Erwin said slowly. “I see you’ve… made yourself comfortable.”

Y/N wanted to die.

Right there.

On the floor.

Maybe under the floor. In a hole.

“I—I thought you were in a meeting—”

“I was. Until I was told you didn’t show for supply drills. I came to check on you. Clearly, you’re—” he gestured vaguely at whatever had been happening, “—busy.”

Levi looked like he was weighing the merits of jumping out the window.

Erwin exhaled. “I am going to need… a moment.”

He turned on his heel and walked away, after saying:

“I’ll kill you if you break her heart,”

Silence.

Y/N was still frozen.

Levi leaned his head back against the wall and whispered:

“Well. That went to shit.”

---

Later that night, as they sat on her bed in total, shame-filled silence, Y/N glanced sideways and muttered, “...I think we were still hot.”

Levi choked on his tea.

---

Erwin didn’t speak to Levi for two days.

Then one morning, in passing, he said:

“She’s the only good thing in this hellhole. Don’t ruin it.”

Levi just nodded.

Didn’t say it out loud.

But he already knew:

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He was in too deep.

---

It started with a knock on her door.

Gentle. Calm. Suspicious.

Y/N cracked it open. “Yeah?”

Erwin stood there. Stoic. Neutral. Too neutral.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay?”

“In my office.”

Her soul left her body.

---

She sat on the couch. He stood with his arms crossed like he was briefing her on a siege.

"Y/N," he started.

"You and Levi."

Her eyes went wide. "Nope. No. We're not doing this."

"I'm not angry."

"You’re you. That’s worse."

“I just want to make sure he’s respecting you.”

“He is! In fact, you can leave now, thanks!”

Erwin took a slow, deep breath like he was about to lead a charge.

“I need to ask…”

He paused.

She glared.

“...Have you two… done it?”

Silence.

You could hear a Titan cry from five miles out.

Y/N shrieked, “OH MY GOD, ERWIN.”

He held up both hands. “I just need to know.”

“NO! WE HAVEN’T! THANK YOU FOR THAT!”

He sat beside her like he hadn’t just tried to ruin her life.

“I’m serious, Y/N. If things progress, you have to be careful. I don't want accidents and you know it's serious having sex with someone, and Levi probably—”

“I SWEAR TO MARIA IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE—”

“— he probably doesn’t understand subtlety in bed—”

“ERWIN.”

“All I’m saying is, please use protection. You don’t need to give me details, I just want you to be safe.”

Y/N stood up, pacing like a madwoman.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD. You are talking about sex like you’re explaining a combat strategy.”

“Well, in a way, it is.”

“STOP TALKING.”

Erwin leaned forward, elbows on knees, voice calm and terrifying.

“You're my sister. I care about you. I trust Levi. But I'm still picturing him shirtless in your room and it's actively giving me a stroke.”

Y/N screamed into her hands.

---

Levi, 15 minutes earlier, had been heading toward her quarters with tea and a book.

He saw Erwin walking in.

He turned 180° and walked back into the woods.

“Not my war,” he muttered.

---

Later that night:

Y/N was laying face-down on Levi’s bed.

Dead silent. Emotionally traumatized.

“I’m never looking at our commander in the eye again,” she mumbled.

Levi stared at her, deeply unamused. “What’d he say?”

“He asked if we’d done it.”

A pause. A blink.

Levi turned and walked directly into a wall.

“…He what?”

“And then he told me to use protection.”

Levi sat down slowly. “I’m killing him.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’m killing myself.”

“That’s fair.”

They lay there in horrified silence.

Y/N peeked at him. “...But, like, we haven’t done anything.”

Levi looked at her, calmly. “Do you want to?”

“LEVI!”

---

Meanwhile, in Erwin’s office:

He took a long sip of tea, sighed, and whispered to himself:

“I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

---

It started—like all great disasters—with Hange.

She hadn’t been snooping, per se.

She was looking for Levi’s spare cleaning supplies.

In his room.

Without knocking.

It’s not like she expected to find evidence.

But then she opened a drawer.

And found a single, unopened condom.

Right on top.

“Huh,” she said aloud. “Weird packaging. Wait, is this…?”

A pause.

A beat.

A gasp heard across Wall Rose.

“HE’S DOING THE NASTY?”

She didn’t even shut the drawer.

---

Mike heard the scream and came running like a bloodhound with rage issues.

He skidded to a stop in front of Hange’s flailing arms.

“HANGE. WHAT.”

She held up the condom like a damn crime scene tag.

“LEVI’S HAVING SEX.”

Mike froze. “That’s—”

“WITH Y/N.”

And that was it.

Mike stormed through the hallway like an incoming natural disaster.

Everyone got out of the way.

Birds flew off windowsills.

Someone said they heard thunder.

He kicked open the doors to the stables—Levi’s latest hiding spot.

Levi turned.

Calm. Clean. Hands in pockets.

Until Mike grabbed him by the front of the shirt and lifted him.

"NOT WITH THE KID."

Levi blinked. "...The f***?"

"Y/N. Smith. The baby of the Corps. The sunshine gremlin. You're old. She's not."

Levi didn’t even flinch.

“We’ve been together for a year.”

Mike’s eye twitched.

“WHAT.”

Levi sighed. “Yeah. She loves me. I love her. Deal with it.”

“DEAL WITH IT??” Mike boomed. “YOU’RE DOING UNSPEAKABLE THINGS WITH ERWIN’S LITTLE SISTER??”

“Okay first of all, she’s 22.”

“She knits scarves for injured pigeons!”

“She also broke a Titan’s jaw with her bare hands last week.”

Mike was seething.

He dropped Levi.

"You manipulative little bastard—"

“I’m literally shorter than her.”

“YOU THINK THAT’S GONNA SAVE YOU??”

---

Meanwhile, in Erwin’s office:

Hange slammed open the door, breathless.

“Did you KNOW?!”

Erwin looked up from his paperwork. “Yes.”

Nanaba poked her head in. “Is it true? Are they… doing the do?”

“Apparently,” Erwin said with the calm of a man whose soul left months ago.

Hange: “And you’re just OKAY with this?!”

Erwin: “No. But I’m tired. - Why are you asking me this? A little respect, man, I'm your commander.”

Mike stormed in with Levi’s crumpled collar still in his fist.

“HOW DO YOU ALLOW THIS?” he barked. “SHE’S YOUR BABY.”

Erwin folded his hands.

“She’s not a child. She’s a soldier. She made her choice.”

“WITH LEVI??”

“Yes.”

Nanaba: “Did you at least give her The Talk?”

Erwin: “I did.”

Hange: “Oh my god.”

Levi entered, looking like he walked through a hurricane of judgment.

Y/N came in after him, sheepishly.

Mike stared at her like she’d been possessed.

“You could do so much better.”

Levi: “Gee. Thanks.”

Erwin stood up. “Enough.”

The room went quiet.

Erwin looked at them all. Stern. Calm.

“They’re in love. Get over it.”

A long beat.

Then Hange muttered, “Still wild you had condoms.”

Y/N squeaked, “THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET—”

Levi walked straight out the door.

---

Hange told the entire barracks.

Nanaba asked for tea and details.

Mike started following Levi everywhere.

Levi, deadpan: “Why are you behind me.”

Mike: “Waiting for you to slip up, loverboy.”

Erwin poured wine and whispered to himself,

“Maybe I’ll just let the Titans win.”

---

It started with Hange, as always.

A whisper here.

A comment there.

Until it was everywhere.

They didn’t even say it outright. Just...

“Hey, did you hear?”

“What?”

“About Levi and Y/N…”

Eyes widened.

Chokes were swallowed.

Teacups shattered.

And somehow—somehow—the story mutated.

By noon: they were dating.

By dinner: they were living together.

By midnight: someone swore they heard something from Levi’s room.

---

MEETING ROOM – 0800 HOURS

Erwin walks in. Calm. Composed. Commander.

Levi walks in. Cold. Silent. Iconic.

Y/N walks in. Smiles. Sunshine. Danger.

The room?

Dead.

Silent.

All eyes immediately avert.

Nanaba coughs behind her hand.

Moblit stares at a wall.

Mike sniffs the air like it’s tainted.

Hange grins. “So… sleep well, lovebirds?”

Y/N goes red.

Levi blinks. “She kicked me in her sleep.”

Gasps.

Erwin doesn’t flinch. He just sighs.

“Back to the report.”

---

LATER – TRAINING YARD

Levi is brutal.

Y/N is glowing.

Nanaba whispers, “He’s trying not to flirt. Look at him. He’s dying.”

Moblit: “I heard he called her ‘baby’ yesterday.”

Mike: “He’s using pet names? Levi?”

Y/N flips someone over and casually strolls past Levi.

He glances—just glances—and Hange goes:

“DID YOU SEE THAT??”

Levi, loud enough to scare birds:

“Focus or I’ll have you scrubbing latrines with your tongue.”

Everyone shuts up. But they know.

They know.

---

He only softens when they’re alone.

Rough hands on her waist.

Murmured “you’re all I fucking care about” against her hair.

A smirk when she teases him.

“Commander asked if we were being ‘responsible.’”

Levi: “He should be glad I didn’t bend you over his desk.”

“LEVI—”

He rolls his eyes. “Like I’d disrespect furniture.”

But then he pulls her close.

“I love you, dumbass.”

She laughs. “Say it again.”

He grumbles it into her neck, “I fucking love you, Y/N.”

[lyrastark94]

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.”

“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↓

[lyrastark94]

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - LEVI ACKERMAN

---

Basado en “Slow Dancing in the Dark” – Joji

Levi Ackerman x Y/N

Recomendación: escuchar la canción mientras lees!

---

I don’t want a friend

I want my life in two

Desde el primer día en que entraste al Cuerpo de Exploración, Levi decidió mantenerte lejos.

Demasiado brillante. Demasiado humana. Demasiado peligrosa para su paz.

No necesitaba una amiga. No necesitaba a nadie.

Y aún así, ahí estabas. Siempre con una broma tonta, con una mirada directa, con una herida más en el brazo y el corazón en las manos como si no te pesara cargarlo.

Waiting to get there

Waiting for you (waiting for you)

Al principio fue tu voz en las reuniones.

Después, cómo limpiabas tu equipo de maniobras con el mismo cuidado obsesivo que él.

Luego fue tu risa.

Luego fue tu rabia.

Luego fuiste tú.

When I’m around slow dancing in the dark

No lo notó al principio.

Cómo su mirada te buscaba en el comedor.

Cómo caminaba más lento cuando ibas detrás.

Cómo apretaba la mandíbula cada vez que salías en una expedición sin él.

No era amor. No podía serlo. Él no amaba.

Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms

—No te acerques tanto —le dijo una vez, después de que le ayudaste a vendarse la mano.

—¿Por qué? ¿Te asusto?

—No. Me jodes.

Pero no te alejaste. Nunca lo hacías.

You done made up your mind

I don’t need no more signs

Can you?

Can you?

Levi empezó a escuchar lo que decías. A recordar tus frases exactas.

A notar cuándo no estabas. A dormir peor cuando no estabas.

Tú le habías escogido. Le habías ofrecido tu lealtad, tu tiempo, tu risa.

Pero él seguía cerrando la puerta antes de dejarte entrar.

Give me reasons we should be complete

You should be with him, I can’t compete

Te vio hablando con Jean.

Sonriendo con Eren.

Entrenando con Armin.

Y pensó que era lo correcto. Que tú debías estar con alguien que no cargara tantos muertos en la espalda.

—¿Tú crees en segundas oportunidades, capitán? —le preguntaste una tarde, sin mirarlo.

—Creo en lo que puedo controlar.

You looked at me like I was someone else

Can’t you see?

La primera vez que te vio llorar, no supo qué hacer.

Te quedaste sola en el establo, apretando los puños, con la mandíbula temblando después de perder a dos reclutas.

Levi no dijo nada. Solo se sentó cerca.

No te tocó.

No te habló.

Pero se quedó ahí, toda la maldita noche.

I don’t wanna slow dance

In the dark, dark

Te soñaba.

No en pesadillas.

No entre gritos.

Sino bailando. Sonriendo. Viviendo una vida que no era esta.

Y eso era lo que más lo jodía.

---

Una noche, después de una misión, te acercaste a él.

Tenías barro hasta en las pestañas.

La camisa desgarrada.

Y una sonrisa estúpida por haber sobrevivido.

—Estoy viva.

—No te emociones. Casi mueres.

—¿Y tú? ¿Estás vivo, Levi?

No supo qué responderte.

---

When you gotta run

Just hear my voice in you (my voice in you)

Las veces que salías del cuartel, dejabas notas.

Pequeñas.

En su escritorio.

A veces eran bromas. A veces frases serias.

Una vez, solo escribiste: "Sé que me escuchas más de lo que hablas."

Tenías razón.

Shutting me out of you (shutting me out of you)

Doing so great (so great)

You

Una noche, Hange lo miró con cara de “te tengo calado”.

—Vas a explotar si no le dices algo.

—Cállate.

—Solo digo que nadie mira a alguien así si no está enamorado hasta el cuello.

—Vete al demonio.

Pero Levi no dijo nada.

---

Give me reasons we should be complete

You should be with him, I can’t compete

Una tarde, te vio con otro soldado riendo en el patio.

Y por dentro, se le rompió algo. No de rabia.

De miedo.

De no haber llegado a tiempo.

De haber esperado tanto que se le pasara el momento.

---

Hasta que un día, lo enfrentaste tú.

—¿Vas a seguir mirándome así sin decir nada?

—¿Así cómo?

—Como si me quisieras pero te diera miedo admitirlo.

Levi te sostuvo la mirada.

Silencio.

Tu corazón sonaba como el de un titán a punto de atacar.

Y él, en voz baja, como si le doliera cada sílaba, respondió:

—Porque sí te quiero.

—¿Y entonces?

—Entonces no sé si puedo permitirlo.

Can’t you see?

Te acercaste. Él no se movió.

—Llevas tanto tiempo bailando en la oscuridad que no sabes cómo sería hacerlo con alguien al lado.

—Y tú —dijo él, apenas audible—, eres la única que se atrevió a encender la luz.

---

I don’t wanna slow dance

In the dark, dark

Pero aún así, esa noche, no se besaron.

No se abrazaron.

Solo se quedaron ahí, cerca.

Como dos personas que, por primera vez, admitían que querían bailar… aunque no supieran aún los pasos.

....

[lyrastark94]

A/N: Aquí tenéis un intento de algo q no había probado nunca! Escribir un one shot con los lyrics de una canción! He escogido de night we met, es UN Poco triste JAJAJA espero que os guste! <3

Recomendación: escuchar "The night we met - Lord Huron" mientras lees!

THE NIGHT WE MET - SATORU GOJO

---

I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

La lluvia caía sobre Tokio con la misma tristeza que empapaba los pensamientos de Satoru. Caminaba solo, con las manos en los bolsillos, las gafas oscuras abandonadas en el fondo de su chaqueta. Por primera vez en mucho tiempo, no tenía prisa por llegar a ningún sitio.

El eco de tus pasos aún resuena en los pasillos del colegio Jujutsu, aunque hace tiempo que ya no estás.

I've been searching for a trail to follow again

Take me back to the night we met

—¿Por qué no te detuve? —susurra, sin que nadie lo oiga.

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

And then I can tell myself

Not to ride along with you

Gojo se detiene frente al antiguo salón de entrenamiento. Ahí fue la primera vez que te vio. Con esa expresión desafiante, los ojos llenos de una fuerza extraña que no encajaba con tu voz suave ni tu risa tímida.

—No deberías estar aquí —te había dicho entonces.

Y tú le respondiste: “Y tú deberías sonreír menos.”

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Las imágenes vienen como cuchillas.

Las noches juntos. Tu voz entrecortada por la risa. Tus dedos enredados en su cabello.

El “te odio” dicho entre carcajadas.

El “te amo” susurrado cuando pensabas que dormía.

Satoru… ¿crees que cuando muramos, nos volvamos a ver?

—Te dije que no te ibas a morir —responde en voz baja, como si aún pudieras oírlo.

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

La noche que te conoció, el cielo también lloraba.

Tú habías llegado mojada, con una expresión dura, cargando una maleta rota y un pasado aún peor.

Y aún así, sonreíste al verlo.

"Escuché que eres el hechicero más fuerte. No pareces gran cosa."

Él se rió. Como siempre.

"Pues tú pareces una amenaza con esa cara, pero mira, aquí estamos, hablando."

When the night was full of terror

And your eyes were filled with tears

Esa noche.

La noche final.

Tú llorabas, y él no podía acercarse. No a tiempo. No cuando todo estaba a punto de explotar.

"Vete, Satoru."

"No pienso dejarte aquí, Y/N. ¡No te atrevas a irte!"

"No puedes salvarme de mí misma."

El silencio fue más cruel que cualquier maldición.

When you had not touched me yet

Oh, take me back to the night we met

En su mente, sigues allí. Sentada en la barandilla del tejado. Con una bebida caliente en las manos y el viento jugando con tu cabello.

—Vuelve. Solo una noche más. Solo una.

Pero no vuelves.

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Tu risa. Tu voz. Tu calor.

Todo se volvió eco. Recuerdo. Castigo.

"Satoru, si algún día me pierdo… no me busques. Quédate con la versión que te hizo feliz."

Pero él sí te buscó.

Te sigue buscando, incluso ahora, entre la gente. En cada silueta de espaldas. En cada sueño donde cree verte y se despierta sin ti.

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Take me back to the night we met

Gojo se sienta en el borde de la azotea. El mismo sitio donde tú solías pasar el rato. Saca el mechero viejo que solías llevar y lo hace girar entre sus dedos.

Sonríe. Una sonrisa rota.

—La próxima vez que nos veamos... ríete otra vez, ¿vale?

La ciudad brilla debajo, indiferente.

Pero él sigue ahí, esperándote.

Porque la noche en que te encontró, fue la única en la que realmente vivió.

---

[lyrastark94]

PREFERENCES: COMO TE TENDRÍAN AGREGAD@?

1. Eren Yeager: "Mi princesa"

2. Mikasa Ackerman: "Y/N 💙"

3. Armin Arlert: "Mi sol" 🌞

4. Connie Springer: "Mi amorcito" 😘

5. Sasha Braus: "Mi patatita" 🥔💖

6. Jean Kirstein: "Mi reina" 👑

7. Annie Leonhart: "Y/N 💫"

8. Reiner Braun: "Mi todo" ❤️

9. Zeke Yeager: "Mi mujer"

10. Levi Ackerman: "Y/N" (minimalista y directo, sin emojis)

11. Bertolt Hoover: "Mi ángel" 😇

12. Porco Galliard: "Amor ❤️ "

13. Erwin Smith: "Princesa"

14. Mike Zacharias: "Mi cielo" ☁️

15. Hange Zoe: "Mi experimento favorito" 🔬💖

16. Pieck Finger: "Y/N <3"

[lyrastark94]

Tenéis este fic en mi wttpd! -> @IAmLyraStark

Synopsis: El ministerio de protección le encarga a Yaga entrenar a una chica con telekinesis a la cuál no consiguen controlar, de lo contrario, será ejecutada. Yaga le encarga la misión de entrenarla a el hechicero con más ego del planeta, pero el único que puede hacerse cargo de ella.

WC: 3.2k

"AMENAZA" - GOJO SATORU

El ambiente dentro de la oficina de Yaga era denso. Silencio pesado, como si el aire mismo escuchara. Un par de oficiales del gobierno, de traje gris y expresión pétrea, estaban de pie frente al escritorio. El más alto sostenía un maletín. El otro, una carpeta clasificada con el sello del Ministerio de Asuntos Paranormales.

—Director Masamichi Yaga —dijo uno de ellos, sin intención de saludar—. Estamos aquí bajo autorización directa del Consejo de Seguridad Nacional. Se trata de un caso clase roja. Catalogado como “peligroso para la integridad humana y sobrenatural”.

Yaga se recostó en su silla, cruzando los brazos. Su rostro endurecido no mostró emoción, pero sus ojos brillaban con desconfianza.

—Hablen.

El hombre del maletín lo abrió y sacó un expediente grueso. Lo colocó sobre el escritorio, girándolo hacia Yaga. La primera página tenía una foto: una chica joven, no más de 19 años, con mirada apagada. Tenía heridas visibles en los brazos, como si hubiera estado sujeta o... contenida.

—Nombre: Y/N. Sin apellido conocido. Edad estimada: diecinueve años. Fue hallada hace tres meses en una zona restringida del norte de Hokkaido. Sin rastro familiar, sin registro civil, sin historia previa. Pero posee habilidades... preocupantes.

—Telekinesis —añadió el segundo oficial—. No jujutsu. Algo más crudo. Más primitivo. Puro control mental. Objetos, personas, incluso maldiciones menores... destruidas con un simple pensamiento.

Yaga hojeó las primeras páginas. Había informes médicos, grabaciones de cámaras, fotos de instalaciones destruidas, cuerpos desfigurados. Todo con una palabra sellada en rojo: Clasificado.

—¿Y por qué vienen a mí?

—Porque ya intentamos contenerla. Cuatro veces. Las instalaciones no sirven. Los inhibidores mentales solo retrasan lo inevitable. —El oficial lo miró con firmeza—. Ella no quiere hacer daño, al menos no conscientemente. Pero si no aprendemos a controlarla… es cuestión de tiempo antes de que alguien la provoque y ocurra una catástrofe. Ya causó dos.

—¿Y qué quiere el gobierno?

—Queremos que Jujutsu Tech la contenga. Entrene. O al menos… que la estudien.

Yaga frunció el ceño.

—¿Y si me niego?

El otro oficial, el más silencioso, habló por primera vez.

—Entonces el gobierno procederá con el protocolo de eliminación. Su caso está bajo condición de riesgo nivel uno. Si no logran resultados dentro de seis meses, será ejecutada. Sin excepciones.

Un silencio amargo se instaló en la oficina.

Yaga bajó la mirada hacia la foto de la chica. Pese a todo, se la veía... sola. Vacía. No tenía expresión de furia, ni gozo. Era el rostro de alguien que no había conocido nada bueno en mucho tiempo.

Suspiró.

—Déjenla aquí. Haré que alguien se encargue.

—¿Acepta las condiciones?

—No. Pero no pienso dejar que un gobierno de burócratas decida sobre la vida de una cría asustada con más poder del que sabe manejar.

El oficial asintió. Era lo más cerca que llegarían a un “trato hecho”.

—¿Quién se hará cargo del entrenamiento?

Yaga soltó una pequeña risa, seca. Se levantó de la silla y caminó hacia la ventana.

—Tengo en mente a alguien que ya lidió con niños difíciles antes.

—¿Gojo?

—El mismo.

---

La puerta del despacho se abrió sin que nadie dijera “pasa”.

—¿Qué hiciste ahora, Yaga? Huele a problema gordo desde el pasillo —dijo Gojo con su típico tono cantado mientras se acomodaba las gafas oscuras.

Yaga ni levantó la mirada.

—Cierra la puerta.

—Uf. ¿Tan serio es?

Gojo obedeció, aunque sin perder su sonrisa perezosa. Se dejó caer en una de las sillas frente al escritorio, con las piernas abiertas y los brazos cruzados por detrás de la cabeza.

—¿Qué pasa? ¿Una nueva maldición de clase especial? ¿Un alma errante enojada con la dieta japonesa? ¿Un panda que habla?

—No. Una chica.

Gojo alzó una ceja. Se enderezó un poco.

—¿Chica como “cuidado, puede matarte” o chica como “necesita una beca”?

—Ambas.

Yaga le deslizó el mismo expediente que había recibido de los oficiales horas antes. Gojo lo hojeó con poco interés al principio… pero luego, al llegar a la parte de las fotos y los reportes, su expresión se volvió seria.

—¿Esto es real?

—Más de lo que querrías creer. La encontraron hace unos meses. Nadie sabe de dónde salió. Tiene telekinesis a un nivel que ni siquiera entra en nuestros registros. No usa energía maldita como la conocemos, pero hay algo en ella que la conecta con lo sobrenatural… como si su existencia estuviera rota. O atada a otra cosa.

Gojo cerró el expediente de golpe.

—¿Y qué quiere el gobierno?

—Que la entrenemos. Que la contengamos. Y si no logramos resultados en seis meses… la matan.

Gojo se quedó callado por unos segundos. Silencio puro. No el silencio molesto, sino ese que aparece cuando algo en su interior se pone serio de verdad.

—Tiene diecinueve. Parece menos. Y está sola. Esto suena más a experimento que a ayuda.

—Lo es —admitió Yaga, con cansancio en la voz—. Pero es eso o dejar que ellos decidan cuándo apretar el gatillo.

Gojo se levantó de la silla, caminó unos pasos por la oficina. Luego se apoyó contra la pared con los brazos cruzados.

—¿Por qué yo?

—Porque tú puedes manejarla. Porque si alguien puede hacer que esa chica no se convierta en un arma… eres tú.

Gojo rió, una risa suave, sin humor.

—¿O porque si ella se descontrola, soy el único que puede detenerla?

Yaga lo miró sin responder.

Gojo se pasó una mano por el cabello y suspiró.

—¿Cuándo llega?

—Hoy. En un par de horas. Vendrá con escolta. El gobierno no se fía de nada.

—¿Y cómo quieres que me acerque a ella? ¿Como un maestro? ¿Un niñero? ¿Un maldito cuidador de zoo?

—Como alguien que pueda enseñarle a vivir sin miedo.

Gojo se quedó en silencio un momento más. Luego, alzó la cabeza con esa sonrisita medio peligrosa, medio decidida.

—Entonces será mejor que prepare una buena primera impresión.

—¿Sin gafas oscuras, quizás?

—Ahora sí que estás pidiendo demasiado.

---

La furgoneta negra se detuvo frente a las puertas del Colegio Técnico de Jujutsu. No tenía ningún logo, ningún símbolo visible. Solo chapa y cristales polarizados. Salieron dos hombres con traje, visiblemente armados, aunque intentaban no parecerlo.

Y/N bajó del vehículo en silencio, escoltada como si fuera un paquete peligroso. Llevaba ropa sencilla, un suéter gris de cuello alto, jeans oscuros y una mochila pequeña colgando flojamente de un hombro. Sus ojos lo escaneaban todo: la puerta, los árboles, el cielo. Como si cada sombra pudiera tragársela.

Sus dedos temblaban. El aire le parecía más denso aquí.

Una de las aves posadas en la verja metálica se alzó en vuelo de golpe, y Y/N apretó los ojos. Por un segundo, la farola cercana vibró... casi imperceptiblemente. Uno de los agentes la miró con tensión.

—Cálmate —le dijo en voz baja.

—Estoy calmada —respondió ella, pero sonaba a mentira.

Frente a la puerta principal, como salido de un manga, estaba Satoru Gojo. Manos en los bolsillos, gafas oscuras, sonrisa de lado. Su chaqueta blanca se agitaba un poco con el viento.

—¿Así que tú eres el arma secreta que van a matar si no aprendo a domesticar? —dijo con un tono relajado, casi bromista.

Y/N lo miró. Lo miró de verdad. No como se mira a un humano, sino como se mide una amenaza. No le respondió. Bajó la mirada al suelo.

—Muy bien. Estás en fase “perro callejero asustado”. Lo respeto.

Los agentes se le acercaron.

—La dejamos bajo su custodia. Tiene pulsera de inhibición psíquica. No debería causar problemas. Si hay incidentes, nos llama directo a este número.

Gojo no los miró siquiera.

—Gracias, caballeros. Ahora, váyanse. Están arruinando mi vibra.

Cuando se fueron, el silencio se volvió incómodo. Y/N seguía de pie, inmóvil. No parecía querer entrar.

Gojo se inclinó un poco hacia ella, con esa sonrisa medio burlona que usaba cuando trataba de no asustar demasiado.

—¿Sabes quién soy?

—Uno de ellos dijo que eras fuerte. Y que no me matarías… todavía.

—Qué simpáticos. —Se llevó una mano al pecho con fingida ofensa—. Me han subestimado. Yo nunca mataría a una chica bonita en su primer día.

Y/N lo miró, alzando apenas una ceja.

—¿Eso es una broma?

—Es mi intento de que te rías antes de que te dé un ataque de pánico. ¿Funcionó?

Ella no respondió. Pero sus hombros se aflojaron apenas.

Gojo bajó el tono, suavemente, como si estuviera hablando con un animal herido.

—Aquí no tienes que pelear con nadie. Nadie te va a encerrar. Nadie te va a cortar la cabeza si estornudas mal. Si quieres gritar, grita. Si quieres quedarte callada, quédate. Pero si vas a estar conmigo, lo único que te pido es que no me tengas miedo. ¿Vale?

Y/N dudó. Luego asintió muy, muy despacio.

Gojo dio media vuelta.

—Entonces ven. Te enseño tu habitación. Después te llevo a la terraza. Es el mejor sitio para no pensar en nada.

Y/N lo siguió. Los pasos lentos. El corazón desbocado.

No sabía si confiar en él. No sabía si confiar en nadie. Pero por primera vez… alguien le había hablado sin miedo.

Y eso, para ella, ya era nuevo.

Gojo la guió por los pasillos del colegio con las manos en los bolsillos, hablando sin parar como si no notara la tensión que aún colgaba de los hombros de Y/N. Ella no decía mucho. Observaba. Absorbía. Caminaba como si en cualquier momento fuera a tener que correr.

—Esta es tu habitación —dijo Gojo finalmente, abriendo una puerta sencilla al final de uno de los corredores del ala este—. Sábanas limpias, agua caliente, vista decente. No te quejes, eh. A mí me tocó compartir cuarto con Suguru. Y roncaba.

Ella entró despacio. Era pequeña, pero limpia. Minimalista. Como si nadie esperara que fuera a quedarse mucho tiempo.

—¿Hay más alumnos?

—Ahora lo verás. —Gojo sonrió, como si disfrutara del misterio.

Salieron de la habitación y caminaron de vuelta hacia el hall principal. Allí, ya los esperaban varias figuras. Profesores. No muchos, pero los suficientes como para que Y/N se sintiera… examinada.

Shoko Ieri fue la primera en mirar. Se cruzó de brazos, alzando una ceja. Su cigarro colgaba de los labios.

—¿Y esta?

—¡Nuestra nueva alumna estrella! —canturreó Gojo—. Cortesía del gobierno paranoico.

Utahime frunció el ceño.

—¿Una nueva alumna? ¿Tú trajiste a alguien sin consultar con el resto?

—Yo no la traje. Yaga la aceptó.

Nanami, que estaba de pie al lado con cara de “ya quiero renunciar”, clavó sus ojos serios en la chica.

—¿Tiene maldiciones? ¿Manipula energía?

—Telekinesis —dijo Shoko, hojeando el expediente que uno de los asistentes le pasó—. A niveles muy peligrosos. No es usuaria de jujutsu al uso.

Mei Mei apareció justo detrás, con su típico aire de desinterés elegante. Se detuvo frente a Y/N y la observó como quien evalúa un diamante… o una bomba.

—No parece muy impresionante —dijo con su sonrisa serena.

Y/N sintió todas las miradas sobre ella. Todas a la vez. Como bisturís. Dardos. Nada que ver con la sonrisa cálida de Gojo o la habitación acogedora. Estas eran miradas profesionales, tácticas. Calculadoras.

—Yo… no quiero molestar a nadie —dijo en voz baja—. Solo… me dijeron que tenía que venir.

Nadie respondió.

Fue entonces cuando la puerta del despacho de Yaga se abrió. El director caminó hacia ellos con su paso firme, cruzando la sala con presencia autoritaria. Todos se callaron.

—Esta es Y/N —anunció sin rodeos—. El gobierno la ha puesto bajo nuestra custodia directa. Si no conseguimos estabilizar su poder y enseñarle a controlarlo… la ejecutarán.

Utahime dio un paso atrás.

—¿Ejecutarla?

—No es una exageración —dijo Yaga—. Es una orden.

—¿Y por qué nos enteramos ahora? —preguntó Shoko, molesta.

—Porque decidí manejarlo directamente. Y necesitaba que alguien la entrenara que no se asustara de su poder. Por eso se encargará Satoru.

Todos miraron a Gojo.

—. Me encantan los casos imposibles.

Y/N no sabía dónde meterse. Se sentía una intrusa. Como si todos esos ojos estuvieran listos para verla fracasar. O peor: para verla perder el control.

Y sin embargo, Gojo la miró de reojo y le guiñó un ojo, como si dijera “tranquila, ya te acostumbrarás”.

Ella bajó la cabeza. Tragó saliva.

No era bienvenida.

Pero por primera vez en años, al menos no estaba sola.

...

El campo de entrenamiento al aire libre estaba vacío esa tarde, salvo por dos figuras en el centro.

Gojo, relajado como siempre, giraba un palillo entre los dedos. Frente a él, Y/N estaba con las manos cerradas en puños a los costados, la mandíbula tensa, el corazón dándole golpes al pecho como si quisiera escapar.

—Vamos, Y/N. Muéstrame lo que sabes hacer.

—No… no quiero hacer daño a nadie.

—No vas a hacerme daño. Créeme. Mi ego es a prueba de explosiones.

Ella no se rió. Solo dio un paso atrás. El suelo crujió ligeramente bajo sus pies.

—No quiero.

Gojo la miró por encima de las gafas. Por primera vez, su voz perdió el tono juguetón.

—Y/N, si no aprendes a controlar esto, no te van a dar una segunda oportunidad.

A lo lejos, bajo la sombra de un árbol, estaban Panda, Maki, Inumaki y Megumi sentados en el césped. Habían escuchado rumores, claro. Pero ahora que la veían allí, la curiosidad era inevitable.

—¿Esa es la nueva? —preguntó Maki, afilando una katana sin disimular que los estaba mirando.

—Parece más mayor que nosotros —murmuró Megumi, con el ceño fruncido—. ¿Y por qué no tiene energía maldita? No la siento.

—Salmon. —Inumaki ladeó la cabeza.

—Dicen que no necesita energía maldita —añadió Panda, con voz grave—. Que lo suyo es puro poder mental.

Volviendo al centro del campo, Gojo dio un par de pasos hacia ella.

—Vamos, princesa. Haz algo. Intenta tocarme. Empujarme. ¿Qué pasa si me acerco?

Ella retrocedió.

—Gojo-sensei, por favor...

—No tienes que tener miedo de mí. Vamos, usa ese poder tuyo. ¿Dónde está esa telekinesis que hace temblar al gobierno?

Y/N se tensó. Respiraba más rápido. Su visión temblaba. La presión se acumulaba en su cabeza. Sentía ese hormigueo detrás de los ojos, como electricidad sin salida.

—No quiero…

—Entonces hazlo, Y/N. ¡Hazlo ahora!

Y entonces ocurrió.

Un latido.

El aire a su alrededor colapsó, como si el espacio mismo se quebrara.

Desde el árbol, Maki se enderezó.

—¿Lo sintieron?

—¿Qué...? —Megumi abrió los ojos con fuerza.

Gojo sonrió.

—Eso es. Ahí estás.

Y/N levantó la mirada hacia él, y en un solo movimiento, giró la cabeza hacia un lado, como si estuviera escuchando algo que no existía. Y en ese instante…

El Infinito de Gojo se apagó.

Un parpadeo. Una nada súbita. Gojo dio un paso atrás, sorprendido.

—¿Qué…?

Antes de que pudiera decir otra palabra, el suelo bajo él se levantó con violencia, una onda psíquica invisible lo empujó cinco metros hacia atrás y lo estrelló contra el campo de bambú. La tierra se agrietó en espiral desde donde ella estaba parada.

El grupo en la colina se puso de pie de golpe.

—¡¿Desactivó el infinito?! —dijo Maki, completamente incrédula.

—¿Eso se puede? —preguntó Panda, con los ojos abiertos.

—¡Shake shake! —soltó Inumaki, con la voz tensa.

Megumi apretó los dientes.

—¿Qué clase de persona es esa chica?

Gojo se reincorporó entre risas, con hojas pegadas al cabello y la chaqueta arrugada.

—Bueno, bueno, bueno… —Se quitó el polvo del hombro—. Eso sí que fue interesante.

Y/N lo miraba con los ojos abiertos, el cuerpo temblando, lágrimas bajándole por las mejillas. Sus labios se movían sin sonido, como si estuviera pidiendo perdón sin poder hablar.

—No… no quise… yo no…

Gojo levantó una mano.

—Tranquila. Estoy bien. Esto... esto es lo que necesitábamos ver.

—Pero… te toqué. Te hice daño.

Gojo se acercó, despacio. Ya no era el mismo tono burlón. Había asombro. Respeto.

—Sí. Me tocaste. Y eso no lo ha hecho nadie desde que tengo uso de razón.

La miró con seriedad.

—Y/N… tú no eres una amenaza.

—¿No?

—Eres un monstruo.

Pausa.

Y luego, sonrió de nuevo.

—Pero si vas a serlo… más te vale serlo con estilo.

---

Después del entrenamiento, Gojo decidió dejarla descansar. No sin antes decirle con tono casi paternal:

—Te lo dije, ¿ves? Nadie va a matarte hoy. Mañana quién sabe, pero hoy estás bien. Anda, vuelve a tu habitación. Lo hiciste bien, en serio.

Y/N asintió sin mirarlo del todo. Aún tenía los ojos húmedos y los brazos pegados al cuerpo como si temiera romper algo con solo moverse. Caminó por el pasillo largo que conectaba con el edificio de habitaciones. Los pasos le sonaban más fuertes de lo normal.

No pasó ni un minuto antes de que oyera voces tras ella.

—¡Eh, tú! ¡La telépata asesina! —gritó una voz femenina con fuerza.

Se giró. Venían bajando las escaleras Maki, Panda, Inumaki y Megumi. Caminaban con paso firme, como si fuera una patrulla. Maki iba al frente, con el bō apoyado en el hombro. No parecía muy impresionada.

—No soy asesina —dijo Y/N en voz baja.

—Tranquila, es su forma de dar la bienvenida —soltó Panda con un tono más amable—. Aunque sí es verdad que lo que hiciste con Gojo fue una locura.

—Shake shake —añadió Inumaki, con los ojos grandes, mirándola como si no supiera si tenerle miedo o ofrecerle un onigiri.

Y/N apretó la mochila contra el pecho.

—No quería hacer daño. Solo… fue como un reflejo.

Maki se cruzó de brazos.

—¿Un reflejo es desactivar el infinito y lanzar a Gojo como una marioneta? —Levantó una ceja—. ¿Así de asustada estás?

Y/N no respondió.

Megumi, que hasta ese momento se había mantenido en silencio, dio un paso al frente.

—Yo no sabía que alguien podía hacer eso con su mente. Ni siquiera sentí energía maldita. Solo... presión.

—No uso energía maldita. Es otra cosa. No sé cómo explicarlo.

—¿Y puedes apagar tu poder? —preguntó Maki— ¿O estamos viviendo con una bomba?

Y/N tragó saliva.

—Estoy intentando aprender.

—Bueno. Espero que aprendas rápido —dijo Maki, ya dándose la vuelta como si eso cerrara el tema.

Panda la empujó suavemente con el hombro.

—No le hagas mucho caso. Es igual con todos. A mí me llamó "oso de peluche radiactivo" los primeros tres meses.

Inumaki asintió con entusiasmo. Luego sacó un onigiri de su bolsillo y se lo ofreció a Y/N, con una pequeña sonrisa.

—Shake.

Ella dudó un segundo... y luego lo tomó con cuidado.

—Gracias.

Megumi la miró un momento más. Había algo en su expresión que no era desconfianza, pero tampoco confianza. Era más bien... reconocimiento. Él también sabía lo que era llegar a este lugar con miedo a uno mismo.

—Tu habitación está por el ala este, ¿no?

Y/N asintió.

—Te acompaño. Este sitio es un laberinto.

Caminaron juntos en silencio mientras los demás se quedaban atrás charlando. Maki resopló, mirando de reojo a Y/N mientras se alejaba con Megumi.

—¿Tú crees que sea una buena idea tenerla aquí? —preguntó a Panda.

—No lo sé —respondió el panda, rascándose la cabeza—. Pero si Gojo la está entrenando, entonces las cosas van a ponerse muy interesantes.

Desde el pasillo, Y/N miró a Megumi un momento. Luego susurró:

—Gracias por no tenerme miedo.

—No me hagas arrepentirme —respondió él, serio.

Ella sonrió por primera vez desde que llegó.

Solo un poco.

---

PARTE 2???

[lyrastark94]

Aquí tenéis otro one shot de mi libro de one shots de Wattpad -> @IAmLyraStark

Palabras: 1.7k

Advertencias: ninguna, todo fluff

"AMIGA" - GOJO SATORU

El apartamento de Gojo Satoru siempre tenía un aire desordenado pero cálido. Era amplio, moderno y lleno de luz, con ventanales enormes y cojines por todos lados. Pero hoy, algo era diferente. Había velas aromáticas encendidas. ¿Velas? Gojo, ¿haciendo ambiente?

—¿Estás segura de que quieres subir? —preguntó Satoru con una sonrisa ladeada, mirando a Y/N mientras ella se detenía en el ascensor, insegura.

—No lo sé, Satoru… me da un poco de cosa. ¿Y si está Megumi? No quiero incomodarlo ni a ti.

—Tranquila, tranquila —le guiñó un ojo—. Megumi está en clase, no vuelve hasta dentro de horas. Eres bienvenida aquí, siempre.

Y/N se mordió el labio, dudando un poco más, pero la manera en que Gojo le tomó la mano y le dio un suave apretón fue suficiente para que sus pasos siguieran los suyos hasta el apartamento.

Cuando entraron, Gojo se quitó las gafas, las dejó en la mesita y sonrió como un crío.

—Ponte cómoda, Y/N. ¿Quieres té? ¿O mejor algo más...? —la miró con picardía—. Tengo helado de matcha. Edición limitada.

Ella rió, suave, con ese tono que siempre le hacía cosquillas al alma de Satoru.

—Té está bien. No quiero ser una molestia.

—Molestia sería que no vinieras nunca —respondió, caminando hacia la cocina con su andar despreocupado.

Y/N se quedó de pie unos segundos, observando el lugar. Había fotos de Gojo con Megumi en la pared, algunos dibujos de cuando era más pequeño, y una chaqueta del chico tirada sobre el respaldo del sofá. Se notaba que convivían. Aquello le hizo apretar un poco los labios.

“¿Y si no le caigo bien?”, pensó.

—Aquí tienes —Gojo regresó con dos tazas humeantes—. Y ya deja de pensar tanto. Todo va a salir bien.

Ella se sonrojó, sorprendida.

—¿Cómo sabes que estaba pensando?

—Porque me gusta leerte, hasta cuando no hablas —le guiñó.

Apenas tomaban el primer sorbo cuando se escuchó el sonido de llaves en la cerradura.

—¿Qué...? —susurró Y/N con los ojos muy abiertos.

—¿Qué? —repitió Gojo.

La puerta se abrió y Megumi entró con su uniforme, su mochila colgando de un hombro y expresión de fastidio post-clase.

—¿Por qué huele tan… a vainilla? —dijo, arrugando la nariz.

Y/N se puso de pie de golpe, con la taza aún en la mano. Megumi alzó una ceja, detenido a medio paso.

—... ¿Quién es ella?

Gojo, como si no pasara nada, se levantó lentamente y caminó hacia ellos.

—Ah, cierto. Sorpresa. Ella es Y/N. Mi… amiga —dijo con ese tono despreocupado que usaba cuando sabía que estaba ocultando algo.

Megumi entrecerró los ojos. Su mirada pasó de Gojo a Y/N, luego de vuelta a Gojo.

—¿Amiga? —repitió, con una ceja levantada—. ¿Por qué estaba aquí sola contigo y por qué están tomando té como si fueran… una pareja de ancianos?

Y/N casi se atraganta. Gojo se rió fuerte, divertido con la reacción de Megumi.

—¡Vamos, Fushiguro! ¿Tan mal piensas de mí? ¿No puedo tener amigas?

—No si pones velas aromáticas cuando vienen.

—Son para el ambiente —replicó Gojo, tratando de sonar indignado.

Y/N bajó la cabeza, con las mejillas ardiendo.

—Lo siento, no quería incomodarte, Megumi. No sabía que volverías tan pronto —dijo ella, dulce, genuina.

Megumi la observó un momento más, como si analizara una técnica mal camuflada. Luego, suspiró.

—No me incomoda. Solo me sorprende. Gojo nunca trae a nadie. Y cuando lo hace, son idiotas.

—¡Ey!

—Tú no pareces idiota —le dijo a Y/N, encogiéndose de hombros—. Supongo que está bien.

Gojo le revolvió el cabello con una mano, satisfecho.

—Ves, Y/N. Te dije que todo saldría bien.

—Aún no dije que esté todo bien —gruñó Megumi, quitándose la chaqueta—. Pero acepto el té si queda.

Y/N sonrió con ternura, como si de pronto todo el peso que sentía se desvaneciera.

—Te haré uno. Me sale bastante bien, ¿sabes?

Gojo la miró, encantado, mientras ella iba a la cocina.

Y en ese momento, Megumi se acercó a él en voz baja.

—“Amiga”, ¿eh?

—Déjame tener mis momentos —susurró Gojo, feliz.

---

Perfecto, aquí va la continuación, con Y/N haciendo su mejor esfuerzo por caerle bien a Megumi (aunque el karma y Gojo no se lo pongan fácil):

...

Los minutos pasaron tranquilos. Y/N sirvió otra taza con manos delicadas y una sonrisa suave, intentando que su nerviosismo no se notara. Gojo estaba tirado en el sofá, tan relajado como si la situación no fuera la más evidentemente incómoda del universo.

Megumi, en cambio, se sentó en el otro extremo del sofá, cruzado de brazos, observando todo con esa mirada de “estoy viendo más de lo que dicen”.

—Gracias por el té —dijo Megumi finalmente, tras probarlo.

—¡De nada! —respondió Y/N, con un poco de entusiasmo de más.

Silencio.

Gojo tomó un sorbo y miró de reojo, intentando no reírse. Estaba claramente disfrutando todo.

—Así que… ¿vas en la escuela Jujutsu también? —intentó Y/N, buscando conversación.

—Sí.

—Qué bien. Yo no soy hechicera, pero Satoru me cuenta algunas cosas. Siempre habla muy bien de ti —dijo con sinceridad, mirando al chico con una sonrisa ligera.

Megumi le echó una mirada rápida a Gojo. Este, en su defensa, simplemente le guiñó un ojo.

—¿Ah, sí? —Megumi se volvió a Y/N—. ¿Y hace cuánto son… amigos?

Y/N parpadeó. La palabra “amigos” sonó con tanta sospecha que casi se le atraganta el alma.

—Uh… desde hace unos meses. Nos conocimos en una cafetería. Yo pedí el último muffin y él me lo robó.

—Lo compartí —aclaró Gojo desde el sofá, sin abrir los ojos.

—Después me pidió el número con una excusa ridícula. Dijo que quería "compensarme emocionalmente con memes".

Megumi entrecerró los ojos.

—Ajá.

—¡Y funcionó! —dijo Gojo, sentándose de golpe—. Estoy lleno de encanto, ¿no es así?

—Llámalo como quieras —masculló Megumi, bebiendo más té.

Y/N se levantó para llevar su taza vacía a la cocina, y cuando pasó cerca de Megumi, le dejó discretamente un pequeño tupper con galletas.

—Las hice yo. Si no te gustan, puedes dárselas a Satoru, se come todo —le dijo bajito, como si fuera un secreto.

Megumi miró el tupper y, por un segundo, se le aflojó la expresión.

—Gracias.

Gojo se acercó en silencio, como un ninja mal disfrazado.

—¿Qué es esto? ¿Estás sonriendo, Fushiguro?

—Estoy respirando. No confundas.

Y/N regresó y se sentó de nuevo. Esta vez, más cerca de Gojo, aunque aún con prudencia. Gojo, en cambio, decidió que ya era hora de no tener prudencia.

Le pasó un brazo por detrás del respaldo del sofá, estirándose ostensiblemente. No la tocó, pero la intención era clara.

Megumi lo miró.

Y/N lo miró.

Gojo sonrió como quien no ha hecho nada.

—¿No ibas a entrenar, Megumi?

—¿No ibas a disimular?

Gojo bufó una risa, levantando las manos como si fuera inocente.

—Bueno, bueno. Ya está. No soy bueno mintiendo. Sí, Y/N es mi novia. ¿Contento?

Silencio. Megumi se quedó mirándolos. Luego volvió a mirar las galletas. Luego a Y/N.

—Mientras no se besen delante de mí, no me importa.

Y/N rió bajito, aliviada.

—Prometido.

—Y tú —Megumi apuntó a Gojo—. No hagas el ridículo delante de ella. Ya es suficiente con lo que haces cuando estás solo.

—¡Oye!

Y/N soltó una carcajada sincera esta vez. El hielo se había roto, aunque quedaban muchos pedacitos flotando. Megumi agarró una galleta, la probó, y asintió sin decir nada más.

Gojo la miró con ojos brillantes, como si acabara de presenciar el acto más romántico del siglo.

—¡Te aceptó! ¡Es como un cachorro salvaje que te deja tocarlo!

—Cállate —dijeron Y/N y Megumi al mismo tiempo.

Gojo sonrió. Todo iba mejor de lo que esperaba.

...

La tarde se fue volviendo noche, y entre charla, galletas y unas cuantas historias vergonzosas que Gojo soltaba sin filtro, el ambiente se volvió cómodo. Casi familiar.

Megumi se fue a su habitación en cuanto terminó el té. Lo disimuló diciendo que tenía tarea, pero Y/N sabía que simplemente le estaba dando espacio a ella. O vigilando desde las sombras, quién sabe.

—De verdad fue un gusto estar aquí —dijo Y/N, ya cerca de la puerta, abrochándose el abrigo con manos suaves—. Gracias por todo, Satoru.

Gojo se recostó contra la pared, mirándola con una sonrisita tonta.

—Gracias a ti por venir. Sabía que Megumi no sería tan difícil como pensabas.

—¿Estás seguro de eso? Creo que todavía sospecha que soy un demonio encubierto.

—¿Y no lo eres?

—No más que tú —le guiñó un ojo.

Gojo se acercó un paso. Luego otro. Su voz bajó a ese tono suave que solo usaba cuando estaban solos.

—¿Te puedo besar?

Ella parpadeó. Se mordió el labio con timidez, y luego asintió.

—Un beso rápido, que Megumi está cerca.

Gojo sonrió como quien escucha un desafío.

—Yo nunca hago nada rápido.

Y sin esperar más, la tomó de la cintura y la atrajo suavemente hacia él. Fue un beso lento, tierno, pero con esa carga eléctrica que solo ellos entendían. Las manos de él subieron a sus mejillas, y los dedos de Y/N se enredaron apenas en su chaqueta. Se separaron un momento, respirando cerca, con sonrisas bobaliconas.

Y ahí fue cuando se escuchó:

—...¿Están besándose en la puerta?

Y/N se congeló. Gojo también. Lentamente, ambos giraron la cabeza hacia el pasillo.

Megumi estaba allí. Pijama puesta, toalla sobre el hombro, cabello húmedo. Mirándolos como si hubiera visto a alguien patear a un perrito.

—No. No, no. No. —Megumi se giró sobre sus talones con cara de trauma absoluto—. ¡Esto es mi casa, Gojo!

—¡Era un beso inocente! —protestó Satoru, pero se reía.

—¡Se estaban devorando la cara! —gritó Megumi desde su cuarto.

Y/N escondió el rostro en las manos, muerta de vergüenza. Gojo se acercó por detrás y la abrazó con ternura, apoyando la barbilla en su hombro.

—¿Ves? Te dije que iba a salir bien.

—¡Salí traumatizado! —se oyó a lo lejos.

—Shhh, Megumi, estamos teniendo un momento romántico —dijo Gojo en voz alta.

—¡NO QUIERO OÍR ESO! —cerró su puerta de un portazo.

Y/N rió, todavía con las mejillas encendidas.

—Satoru… eres un peligro.

—Y tú me quieres así.

—Lamentablemente… sí.

Gojo la besó otra vez, esta vez más suave, sin importar el portazo, los gritos o el pobre chico en su cuarto jurando no volver temprano jamás.

[lyrastark94]

Aquí tenéis un one shot de Levi x reader sacado de mi libro de one shots de Wattpad --> @IAmLyraStark

TEMPANO DE HIELO - LEVI ACKERMAN

El viento helado cortaba como cuchillas.

Cada ráfaga se sentía como un jodido azote en la piel, y por mucho que Y/N intentara moverse para entrar en calor, el frío se le metía en los huesos como una maldita maldición.

No sentía los dedos.

No sentía la cara.

Probablemente tampoco sentía la dignidad, porque en ese momento se veía y se sentía como una rata congelada encima de su caballo.

-Joder... -murmuró entre dientes, abrazándose a sí misma.

Levi, cabalgando a su lado, le echó una mirada rápida antes de chasquear la lengua.

-¿Cuántas capas llevas?

-No las suficientes, por lo visto.

Levi no dijo nada más, pero antes de que Y/N pudiera reaccionar, algo pesado y cálido cayó sobre sus hombros.

Parpadeó, sorprendida.

-¿Qué...?

Miró hacia abajo.

Era su capa.

La capa de Levi Ackerman.

Levi le había dado su capa.

-Póntela y deja de temblar, me estás poniendo nervioso.

Y/N sintió que su cerebro se reiniciaba.

Porque, vamos a ver, Levi no era el tipo de persona que simplemente prestaba su capa.

-¿Seguro? Tú también debes de tener frío.

-No soy yo el que parece a punto de morirse.

Traducción: cállate y acéptalo.

Y/N lo hizo.

Se envolvió con la tela gruesa, y joder, era como meterse en un maldito refugio portátil.

Olía a limpio, olía a té y olía a Levi.

Lo cual no ayudaba una mierda, porque ahora su corazón decidió que sí podía latir y, de hecho, iba a hacerlo a toda velocidad.

Pero Levi no volvió a mirarla.

Simplemente siguió cabalgando como si no acabara de hacer algo que le daría material para sobreanalizar durante días.

---

El campamento estaba montado.

Después de horas de cabalgar bajo la ventisca, los veteranos decidieron que si seguían más tiempo fuera, Y/N acabaría convertida en un puto muñeco de nieve.

Las tiendas estaban listas. Las fogatas encendidas. Todo parecía más o menos decente.

Excepto por un pequeño detalle.

-¿Qué quieres decir con que no hay más tiendas? -preguntó Y/N, mirando a Erwin con incredulidad.

El comandante, con su cara de póker de siempre, simplemente tomó un sorbo de su té caliente antes de responder.

-Exactamente eso. No hay más tiendas.

-¿Y qué se supone que haga? ¿Dormir en la puta nieve?

Hange, que estaba demasiado entretenida con la situación, se encogió de hombros.

-Nah, puedes meterte en la tienda de alguien más.

Y/N entrecerró los ojos.

-... Esto huele a trampa.

-No es una trampa -intervino Mike, nada sospechoso en absoluto.

-Nooo, para nada -añadió Nanaba, con una sonrisa que gritaba lo contrario.

Y/N los miró a todos.

Luego miró a Levi.

Levi, que hasta ese momento había estado fingiendo que no existía, sintió un mal presentimiento en lo más profundo de su alma.

-No -dijo de inmediato.

Hange dio un falso suspiro dramático.

-Oh, pero Levi... eres el más limpio, el más organizado, el más-

-No.

Erwin dio un leve asentimiento.

-Lo lógico es que duerma contigo.

Levi lo fulminó con la mirada.

-¿Desde cuándo haces chistes?

-No es un chiste.

-Pues debería serlo.

Y/N bufó.

-¿Sabéis qué? Me da igual. Si el enano no quiere, me meto en la tienda de Mike.

Mike arqueó una ceja.

-No, no lo harás.

-¿Y por qué no?

-Porque Levi te mataría.

Y/N resopló.

-Pues Erwin-

-Tampoco.

Y/N se giró hacia Nanaba, ya en un último intento.

-Nanaba, por favor, sé mi salvación.

Nanaba sonrió dulcemente.

-Lo siento, mi tienda está llena.

Y/N apretó los dientes.

-Hijos de puta, lo tenían planeado.

Hange rió.

-Pero claro, ¿qué pensabas?

Y/N giró lentamente la cabeza hacia Levi, que ya estaba masajeándose las sienes como si le estuviera doliendo la vida misma.

-¿Y bien?

Levi resopló.

-Haz lo que te salga de los cojones. Pero si roncas, te echo a la nieve.

---

La noche cayó.

Y con ella, el verdadero infierno.

Porque sí, Levi ya sabía que Y/N era una molestia.

Lo que no sabía era que también era una puta estufa rota.

La tienda estaba oscura y silenciosa, salvo por el sonido de la ventisca afuera.

Levi dormía de espaldas, en su lado, sin tocarla.

Y/N, en cambio, estaba hecha un ovillo de mantas, con la nariz fría y los dientes castañeteando otra vez.

Trató de hacerse la dura.

Trató de no moverse demasiado.

Pero, poco a poco, el frío empezó a metérsele en los huesos.

Intentó envolverse más en las mantas.

No sirvió de una mierda.

Intentó hacerse bolita.

Nada.

Y, en un acto desesperado, sin pensar, se giró y pegó su espalda contra la de Levi.

Levi se tensó como si le hubieran clavado un cuchillo.

-¿Qué cojones haces?

Y/N ni siquiera tuvo fuerzas para ser sarcástica.

-Tengo frío.

Levi no respondió.

Porque si abría la boca, probablemente diría algo de lo que luego se arrepentiría.

Ella estaba helada.

Como si estuviera hecha de nieve.

Y su primer instinto fue apartarse.

Pero... no lo hizo.

Porque, joder, la sentía temblar.

Levi suspiró.

-Esto es una puta mierda.

Y, sin decir más, se giró.

Y/N parpadeó, sorprendida, cuando de repente sintió un brazo pasar por encima de su cintura y un calor inesperado envolverla.

-¿Q-qué estás haciendo?

-Cállate.

-¿M-me estás abrazando?

-Cállate, hostia puta.

Y/N no supo qué responder.

Porque...

Porque Levi Ackerman la estaba abrazando.

Voluntariamente.

Y lo peor era que se sentía bien.

Jodidamente bien.

Se quedó quieta, sin moverse, sin atreverse a arruinar el momento.

Levi, por su parte, mantuvo los ojos cerrados.

Si alguien le preguntaba al día siguiente, lo negaría todo.

............

La tienda estaba en completo silencio.

Bueno... casi completo.

Porque la puta ventisca afuera seguía aullando como si el infierno se hubiera desatado, y para rematar, Y/N seguía temblando, aunque ya no tanto.

Y Levi lo notaba.

Porque, bueno, la estaba abrazando.

Algo que todavía no había procesado del todo, pero si se ponía a pensar en ello, le iba a dar un derrame cerebral, así que mejor no.

Lo peor era que ella no decía ni hacía nada.

Simplemente estaba ahí, helada pero tranquila, acurrucada contra él como si no fuera la peor decisión de su jodida vida.

Y luego...

-Levi.

El susurro le rozó el oído y casi le da un puto infarto.

-¿Qué? -gruñó, con la mandíbula tensa.

-Si me muero de hipotermia, quiero que hagas una estatua en mi honor.

Levi cerró los ojos y respiró hondo.

-Te juro que si no estuvieras a punto de convertirte en un cubito de hielo, te sacaba de la tienda a hostias.

Y/N soltó una risa baja.

-Oye, yo solo digo.

Levi suspiró, su paciencia ya colgando de un puto hilo.

-Duerme, joder.

-Pero-

-DUE-RME.

Silencio.

Por un momento, pensó que por fin le haría caso.

Pero claro que no.

Porque al parecer, esta noche iba a ser un puto calvario.

-¿Tú crees que Mike y Hange apostaron por esto?

Levi abrió los ojos y frunció el ceño.

-¿Por qué cojones harían eso?

-Porque es exactamente el tipo de cosa por la que apostarían.

Levi consideró su punto.

...Mierda.

-Hijos de puta -murmuró, dándose cuenta de que probablemente ahora mismo Hange estaría contando monedas y Mike oliendo a la distancia para saber si había ganado.

Y/N rió de nuevo y, sin pensarlo, se movió un poco más hacia él.

Levi se quedó completamente congelado en su sitio.

Porque ahora... ahora la tenía prácticamente pegada al pecho, y eso ya era otro nivel de pérdida de control.

-Estás calentito.

La voz de Y/N sonó casi adormilada.

Levi apretó la mandíbula.

-No empieces con tus mierdas.

-No es una mierda, es un hecho.

-Es un hecho que te voy a lanzar a la nieve si no cierras la boca.

Pero ella solo se rió de nuevo.

Y Levi, el puto idiota que era, no hizo nada por apartarla.

---

Al día siguiente, todo fue una mierda.

Porque cuando Levi despertó, lo primero que vio fue la cara de Hange asomándose a la tienda con una sonrisa de "Te pillé, cabrón".

Lo segundo que vio fue a Mike cruzado de brazos, mirándolos con la ceja arqueada como si acabara de confirmar sus sospechas de toda la vida.

Y lo tercero que vio fue a Erwin con su cara de póker, pero con un brillo en los ojos que decía "esto me lo guardo para después".

Levi se quedó mirando al techo de la tienda, sintiendo una necesidad profunda de matar a alguien.

Preferiblemente a todos.

Especialmente cuando Y/N, que seguía enredada en él como una puta lapa, decidió desperezarse con un bostezo y murmurar:

-Mmmh... buenos días.

Y Hange, la hija de puta, canturreó:

-¡Muy buenos días!

Levi quería morirse.

O mejor aún.

Matarlos a todos y luego morirse.