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#aot underground
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Levi always thought you were beautiful breastfeeding. Cuddled up on your master bed, snuggled up in his robe, blankets, as the baby slowly eats from you plumb breast.
Levi couldn’t get over your breasts, they were larger, softer, covered in beautiful stretch marks, and most importantly they kept your child alive.
The soft look on your face, with the tired yet loving eyes, as you look down at your baby, and Levi’s tried yet loving eyes looking at you.
All he wants to do is press endless kisses to your body, especially your beautiful breast.
(Tell me, should I make a whole one shot based on this?)
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sonamytrash · 4 months
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Midnight
Underground Virgin!Levi x Virgin!Femreader
MDNI
Warnings: y/n used, Childhood friends to lovers, fluff, smut, puberty mentioned, masturbation mentioned, fingering, sex, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, mentions of prostitution, characters ages aren't mentioned, but it's suggested they're both in their late teens, of age when writing but could be interpreted as underage? Virgin levi, virgin reader.
Note: Kind of wanted to write something about Levi losing his virginity and give him the blessing of something in his life that wasn't all bad. Reader and Levi have grown up together. Feelings have blossomed, and desires have been ignited over the years. The underground is a tough place to live with sex and violence everywhere. There's no smut in the first chapter, but it is heavily suggestive. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!
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In a world where the sun never shines, where the only light comes from flickering Street lights, candles, and the occasional spark from a fire, three souls found solace together in front of a fire. The underground city was a maze of dimly lit tunnels, cramped living quarters, and a constant struggle for survival. You had grown up together, survived together, and lived together in this harsh, unforgiving environment.
Your landlord was a cruel and greedy man, having come to you the with news that he wanted his rent earlier than usual, probably because he owed someone else the money or had pissed his own money up the wall. You couldn't afford to be out on the streets again. It wasn't hard to find a crook to rent a small apartment to three teenagers. But his terms were unreasonable.
Desperation and stress hung heavy in the air. You were usually the type to try and remain cheery, strong, and resilient, but these sorts of situations made you anxious. Finding money down here was hard enough, but being given less time to find it was so much more stressful. "I-I don't know what we're going to do," you stammered. "There has to be some way to make the money quickly." Furlan said thoughtfully as he tried to reassure you, but even his words sounded hollow. It really wasn't much time to get the money together.
You were always aware of the easiest way for a girl to make money down here. Selling your body to some piece of shit man to use for pleasure. It was quick and easy cash that much was true. If you were lucky enough to get paid, that is. The attempt to make any money that way came with many risks. Most women down here lived in fear of getting raped, abused, and even killed before the added risk of being a working girl. Having grown up with Levi and Furlan, they had kept you safe. Currently, you worked a part-time job at the morgue, which didn't pay well but allowed you to learn and study to some extent. But in recent years, since hitting puberty and developing into a young woman, the pressure had been more intense, men often offering plenty of money for the opportunity to have their way with you. Although this sort of interaction would result in being beaten to a pulp by Levi, he would die before he allowed you to have to resort to sex work. And you were grateful for that. The thought of having to resort to prostitution, a common but desperate measure, filled you with dread.
Levi, said nothing. He just stared at the floor, his jaw tightening with anger. You glanced at him, concerned. "Levi, if we need the money I can-" You asked softly, stopping when you saw him look up at you, his eyes burning with a fierce protectiveness. "I'm not going to let you do that," he said, his voice steady and unyielding.
You frowned. "It will guarantee us the money."
"Y/N" He said sternly. "I won't let you go out there and sell yourself for us to survive. I'll find another way. I promise." You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty, but found none. There was only determination.
You nod in response, feeling reassured for now by his words. "I've got to go out. I'll be back around midnight, okay?" He states. Again, this wasn't uncommon. You worried about him and where he was going but even if you asked he wouldn't have told you. Criminal and immoral are the exact words that he himself would've used to describe his work, he was probably going to go and find some quick and easy job, guaranteed to pay but always carried so many risks. Furlan smiles gently at you as he follows Levi out of the door.
Having had a bath and tidied up a little. You toss and turn in bed for hours, lost in your own thoughts. You knew Levi would keep you safe to an extent, but nothing was guaranteed down here. Even if you didn't end up in a brothel, there was nothing stopping anyone from breaking into the apartment you shared now while the boys were gone, you could he kidnapped, raped and murdered any night, or day for that matter. You shudder at the thought. You wanted as much of your life to be in your own hands and control as possible. It wasn't like you wanted to stay a virgin forever, while still being young, you were old by the standards of the underground, which made you laugh. You wanted your first time to be something you choose, not something taken from you. You had desires and thoughts late at night like this when you were alone. Always of your stoic companion. You weren't sure when your feelings towards him became romantic, but it frightened you. He was difficult to read, but you were sure that there could be something there. And if there wasn't? Well, you were sure you could convince yourself that you would be satisfied to just be by his side in whatever capacity the universe will allow. Maybe you would be fortunate enough to be born as a princess in the next life, and he would be your Prince charming. You roll your eyes and laugh at the thought. A girl could dream, and your fantasy of prince's, pretty dresses and castles, however impossible it was did help you to fall asleep for a few hours before you were abruptly awoken by the sound of Levi and Furlan returning. You could recognise the sound of Furlans footsteps retiring to his small room at the end of the corridor. It sounded like Levi was still in the living room. You sit up in bed and light a candle.
Levi walks over to your door, having noticed the light emitting from beneath. A heavy sigh escapes him, his eyes carrying a look of exhaustion. As he knocks on your door just once, his voice is soft.
"Can I come in?"
You respond with a sleepy yes, and Levi pauses for a moment before he comes into the room. His eyes shift to your bed, and he realizes that you're only wearing a tank top and underwear. He doesn't let his eyes roam over you for more than a second, trying to focus on something else in the room before speaking up, sounding worried:
"Are you alright? Why aren't you sleeping?"
You smile. "I was, and I wasn't, I fell asleep not long ago, but I heard you come home. Is everything okay?" You ask him concerned.
Levi nods as he sits down on the edge of your bed.
"Yeah, everything is fine. Sorry if I woke you up. You should get back to sleep." He smiles softly, something only you and you alone are ever lucky enough to see. You gently tug his arm. "Stay, just for a little longer." A blush creeping across your cheeks. This was a bold move for you. Maybe you were still slightly delirious from having just woken up.
Levi looks down at your hand as it lays on his arm. A slight blush creeps up on his cheeks as he looks up at you again. Your messy hair, dreary eyes, and smile are just too cute. He doesn't know what he would do without you. He hates that he can't find a way to get you all out of this cesspit. You're like the moon that continues to shine on the darkest night. He's already resided himself to do anything to keep you safe and by his side. He feels guilty that this sight of you is making his cock twitch. The years have been kind to you and you're such a beautiful young woman now, each and every night his hand is tightly gripped around his cock at the thought of you. Seeing you like this, the covers barely covering your panties and your nipples visible through your tank top is all the more fuel for his desires. But he knows how it is for girls down here, he saw what life was like for his mother, he sees it daily in the streets. He would never dream of treating you with anything but the respect you deserve. Not only that, but the thought of jeopardising the relationship that you have now should he tell you how he feels, loosing you would really plummet his life into eternal darkness.
He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess I can stay for a little bit." He says softly. "Since you're such a brat if you don't get your own way." He teases.
You pout playfully at him, he chuckles as he shifts a bit closer to you, now sitting next to you with his arm around your shoulder, you nestle into his chest. A slight blush appears on his cheeks, which he immediately hides by turning his face away from you. "You're not still worrying about the money, are you? Is that why you're acting so needy?." He asks quietly
You shake your head. "Not anymore, I know it won't come to that." He nods, relieved that it isn't worrying you any longer. He's pulled from his thoughts when you speak up again. "I'm grateful. I know what I want for myself. And it's thanks to you that I'm able to make my own choices." You lift your head to meet his gaze, your face painted with a furious blush. "I'm ready to make my own choices."
Levi chuckles. "Well, you're spoilt for choice if that's the case." He says, trying to ignore the pang of jealously he can feel in the pit of his stomach.
You shake your head  "That's not what I mean, Vi." You nervously bring your palm to his cheek. "I want to be with someone I trust, someone I love."
Levi stares at you. Blushing slightly at your words. You have grown into a young woman who's a lot braver than he gives you credit for. A small smile forms on his face, but he's still hesitant to say all the things he wants to.
Levi tries to keep his usual cool exterior "A-Are...Are you saying what I think you're saying right now?"
You nod nervously. Averting your gaze, you have said enough for someone as intuitive as Levi to piece together. The seconds seem to last forever, but he finally gives you his response with a soft and gentle tone:
"I... I want that, too."
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amywritesthings · 14 days
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silver underground. | chapter 22
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( Read on AO3 )
Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 5k Summary: the past and present; levi's version Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - flashbacks, levi's pov, graphic imagery, sickness, medical conversations, panic / paranoia, mentions / canon divergence of the recently published 'bad boy' chapter (extra warnings under the cut)
Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.
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CHAPTER 22.
note: there is a presumed major character death in this chapter. please do not read if you are not in the right headspace for this content. mental health first xo
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He can’t shake the adrenaline.
Kinetic energy thrums through his veins, destroying his focus.
For the fifth time since he returned to headquarters, Levi’s hands dip generously into the pool of ice-cold sink water in the corner of his bedroom.
His wrists flick up, quick, to splash it across his face like the whiplash sting will somehow calm the fever in his heart.
A sixth time.
A seventh.
He’ll keep going until that look on your face from the forest is wiped from his mind.
(Until he stops thinking of the before, when he wasn't enough.)
His lungs constrict as he forces himself to breathe, slow and steady, though the exhales exit like strangled gasps.
White knuckles resign themselves to the mouth of the sink as he leans in. His shoulder blades detangle themselves, sorting out the tension, while his eyes wearily stare at his reflection from the watery mirror below.
I know you, you said.
Of course you know him.
You said a long time ago you’d always know him, as if he’s an extension of your arm leading directly to the beat of your very heart.
How could I forget someone like you? you'd muse. If anything, you'd forget me.
(As if that was ever a fucking option.)
When you were just kids wasting away in the bitterness of the Underground City, you likened yourself to a shadow following Levi’s every footstep.
How could you look at yourself as a shadow when you were always the only light in his goddamn life?
You may not remember everything that's happened to you, everything that's made you, but Levi has silently volunteered to carry every burden in the interim.
Yours and his.
Up a hill, down a slope, through the mud, against raging snow — he'll carry the essence of you until you come back.
Because he was there.
For most, if not all, of it, he was there.
Twin fingers, reaching high for the stream of morning sunlight.
Shoulder to shoulder in a mess of sheets; you swore you’d never get over the sensation — the warmth of the light.
He'd never forget.
Levi would come to know warmth far better than the sun above — like the ghost of smile peppered over your lips.
He rolled over to selfishly block your view.
You were better than the goddamn sun, he'd quickly come to realize for himself.
He'd never forget.
"Can you believe there's really a world out there like this that can be real?" you murmured into the hollow of his throat as he peppered a crown of kisses against your forehead.
That the two of you could lay on a mattress easily fitting the both of you, not threatening to cave in on itself.
That you both could live this secret life, as Captain and Lieutenant, until you were old and gray.
For a second he so foolishly believed you could, too.
In comparison to the Underground, the surface could be considered paradise.
Maybe still hell on earth in its own right, sure, but at least it wasn’t a life buried in a tomb.
The vibrant green of the trees. The dirt that didn’t always stink of rot. The endless blue sky above.
Warmth was a comfort so many took for granted.
You knew. You both knew.
Caked sweat and congealed blood. Green bruises and busted lips. An abyss of gray, nothingness.
That's what he understood best.
 — especially after she died.
His mother; the first concept he had of the sun.
And for the short few years she was alive, she was radiant. 
The withering city wasn’t so bad under her wing, even if the men who berated and belittled her were. 
Levi vowed he’d grow strong enough, brave enough, to make sure one day they wouldn’t have to live in a cramped space surviving on the niceties of traded goods — bodies for money, lies for survival.
Then Kenny entered his life and everything became violent.
Bared teeth and closed fists. Selfishness and territories.
Mine, mine, mine.
Except it was all his — that bastard took every damn cent he could make off of him and then some, oftentimes working him to the bone.
(You got a meanness, boy. Meanness that can’t be taught. No, that’s deep in your blood.)
And Levi believed him.
He believed him because no matter how easy it could’ve been to lie down and die, to maybe one day see his mother at the end of his dining table again, he was fully prepared to do whatever he had to in order to survive. 
To endure. 
To come out on top and never let anyone — not even Kenny the Ripper — destroy him.
Because he had memories to hold onto. 
People.
The rest of the world may have forgotten his mother, but Levi refused.
Hell, it was his only driving force.
He might have known violence, it may have infected his blood, but he wouldn’t lose his humanity and disappoint her.
And when Kenny set him up for a betting fight, usually it was with men twice his size and triple his age.
Little kids were never on the roster, but you — you were an exception.
New, but just as ferocious.
A girl, sure, but you landed the punches on him so many others couldn’t.
He remembers the way your neck felt under his bony fingers. How your teeth clenched together. How you growled like a feral animal.
One more second of that fight and you would have been able to overtake his lead — he was too busy staring, searching.
Memorizing someone who had endured, too.
You said you were a shadow.
Levi knew shadows.
If you were a shadow, then maybe he would've ignored you.
Maybe he would have left you the hell alone.
(Because at the end of the day, all of this is his fault. The memory loss, the injuries — all of it.)
After the gun fired and the crowd scrambled, Levi couldn’t leave you well-enough alone.
He couldn’t let you find your own way in the maze of a miserable mausoleum where your bodies would eventually find peace together, perhaps even side by side.
All Levi could do was selfishly keep tabs, watch your fights, see that piece of shit you called Mother berate and harass you in the comfort of alleyways hidden from plain sight.
If you didn’t die in the rings, then chances are she would have sold you off — resigning you to live out the rest of your days like his mother.
He saw the way the world was cruel to her.
He’d be damned if he didn’t stop the world from being cruel to you.
So at the end of the day, yeah, it’s all his fault.
If he hadn’t convinced you to join his two-person operation all those years ago;
If he had pushed you harder before the final job to hate him;
If he had figured out a loophole in Erwin’s ignorance of what you are to him to push you into another division that wasn’t the goddamn Scouts, claiming disruption or inciting violence—
If, if, if—
So many possibilities, so many scenarios, where he holds your fate so selfishly against his own chest in fear of dissolving it.
Yet he was so willing to finally let you go.
To do the right thing now that you’re on the surface.
Now that you are free.
An invisible string that gleams crimson is tied to his ring finger.
It dips under the sink and snakes across the wooden floorboards of his bedroom, into the hallway, and straight to you.
If only he had caught you the first time.
If only.
.
.
.
.
.
.
  In the aftermath of falling straight to the forest floor, dust kicks up all around him, invading his lungs and choking him out.
It burns, but it doesn't deter him.
Here he has only one objective.
One goal.
“James?”
He calls your name, hoping to hear something.
Anything.
The only sound that answers is the bristle of the tree branches above.
A scene so ghastly concludes with serenity and the weightless chirps of birds.
Coughing, Levi swipes at the cloud of dirt with his hands, dropping his dulled blade to the earth.
It clunks as violently as he’s moving, scrambling to find your silhouette anywhere in this goddamn mess.
"C'mon, damn it," he growls to himself, swiping at the murky air.
One step, then another.
You can't be far.
He'd fallen down with you, trying to break both of your falls, but the momentum was far too great.
At the last second, he rolled away from you thinking you'd lean in and follow.
You did not follow.
—then he sees it.
You’re not vertical, head up and feet outstretched in a daze.
You’re horizontal, lying face-down in the dirt.
Motionless.
“James?!”
Levi repeats your name, louder this time, before nearly vomiting from how much debris he’s inhaled.
He wretches, arm wrapped around his stomach, teeth grit.
He manages to get ahold of himself, to stave off the sickness, before he drops to the ground and crawls to you on hands and knees like a child.
“James, hey—”
The world stops, then and there.
You don't move. You don't respond.
His hand halts in a hover over your body, painfully aware that he cannot pull you upright carelessly.
It's so quiet down here.
Quiet, as if...
Slowly his watering eyes widen, his mind going to the place where logic can follow.
“...James,” he murmurs, voice dissolving. 
He decides to then scoop the once-hovering hand to inch it under your wrapped emerald cloak. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, mindful of the worst case scenario.
The sickening heaviness of your body greets him as he turns you over, carefully, to find your lips parted and eyes closed.
He can't tell if you're breathing.
You look like you're sleeping.
No.
No, this isn't what it looks like.
“James, shit, wake up—”
His words crack, throat dry.
“Wake up.”
Louder this time, like anger might jolt you.
Where he goes, you’re meant to follow. 
You’ll follow his voice. You’ll follow it and you’ll wake up and he’ll never forget how you scared the living shit out of him.
(Even if he will eventually forgive you for dedicating your fucking heart to a cause you didn’t even believe in.)
Logic battles with emotion.
Reality fights with fate.
Cradling the back of your head with immense care, Levi takes action and head ducks to press against your chest, desperate to find —
There.
It’s faint, but a heartbeat is still there.
“Don't do this,” he pleads under his breath. “Don’t you up and fucking quit on me now. I know you can hear me.”
The wheeze of overworked gear flies past his head in a semi-circle.
Several boots land to his west, hasty in their descent.
Luckily his head is turned to the east.
(He can hide the growing terror from his squad. He can buy himself more time to harness his panic and push it away.)
“Captain?” It’s Eld, wasting no time to rush over. He hears the quick taps of his boots running right for him. “Captain, what the hell happened?”
“James?!” Petra yelps, and he can hear Oluo gasp with finality.
No.
No, you aren’t dying.
Not today. Not tomorrow.
“Wait, don’t,” Gunther interjects suddenly.
Levi assumes it’s to keep the rest of the squad back from crowding the scene.
The blonde scout drops to his knees beside his captain, panting heavily. Levi can smell the stench of sweat and exertion radiating from his uniform.
“Captain Levi,” Eld urges once more.
“We have to get her back to the Walls," he forces himself to say, voice steady.
Levi lifts his head with practiced precision.
He meets Eld's worried gaze with a deadened stare.
"Is she...?"
"Her heartbeat is faint," Levi answers the question Eld doesn't have to finish, "but it’s there.”
Eld's face falls.
Levi hates it.
I just said it's there, damn it. Don't consider her dead. Don't.
“She saved us!”
A meek voice peeks out from behind Eld's back.
Levi Squad turns in unison — a well-oiled machine built for crisis — to find Miro Squad riding to the clearing with the extra horses.
The entire squad looks haunted, worse for wear, but they still stayed.
They still fought to the bitter end.
Like true Scouts.
Miro hops off of their horse, running over to the group first.
“Several titans attacked us. If it wasn't for the Lieutenant, we would have all been eaten alive. Please, if we can help in any way, we owe her.”
They bow as one of the other shaken Scouts pulls Levi's horse by the reins from around the back of the formation.
“Sir, Scout Rini is a doctor," Miro continues.
“A doctor?” Oluo blurts incredulously. “Out here? In the field?”
“Formerly a doctor,” Rini anxiously states while dismounting from his horse, "before I joined the cause. I — I would say I could treat her here, but there’s nothing I can do. Too much blood loss. If we can get her inside the Walls—”
“Are we going to keep wasting time talking?” Levi growls, glaring daggers at the rest of the group. “I’m not letting her bleed the hell out. Help me get her on my horse.”
No one hesitates.
Both squads rush to his aid, lifting you with utmost care.
Twenty pairs of hands and ten bodies working in tandem to make sure they don’t jostle your neck or hurt your spine.
The captain only lets go of you to hoist himself up on his black stallion, before bringing you close to his body in a side-saddle.
He can ride one-armed and keep you steady.
He refuses to believe otherwise. 
Because Levi sees it on their faces — beyond the faintest breath against his hand, there’s next to no indicators that you’ll survive.
But they don’t know you.
Not like he knows you.
“Don’t you die on me,” he murmurs against the crown of your head, lips close enough to count as a kiss.
Then he’s off.
He speeds off like a bullet on his horse, crouching over with his jaw so clenched he can feel his teeth nearly cracking.
Forward. His only goal is to push forward — past the trees, past the old villages, and doesn’t stop to look back.
“You’re not allowed to die.”
From this distance the other won't be able to hear, but you might. So he keeps talking.
Come back to me.
“Still got all that shit you wanted to do up here, right? You remember that?”
Levi wishes you could answer.
He wants to believe you would if you could.
“You still gotta get those dumbass cats of yours. You know how many of those filthy things are on the streets? You can fill an entire fucking house for all I care.”
Anything.
He’ll do anything, at this point.
“Didn’t give me a chance to… to find a damn house, to figure everything out—”
A whole world left to discover.
(You asked for his last name. A last name worth nothing, yet somehow it still held something for you. God damn it, he’d give you that last fucking name in every lifetime so long as he could still keep you in this one.)
He stops speaking when Gunther and Eld take it upon themselves to push their horses to their limits, flying past him.
They surge forward in their journey to the nearing Walls, determined to carve a seamless entrance for Levi to enter. 
Eld leans back and holds an arm up high, shooting off a red flare for the Garrison Regiment stationed at the perimeter to see:
Danger.
(Once they reached the gates, they could explain everything. A red flare is enough for now.)
Flicking his wrist to snap the reins, his horse picks up the pace and gallops harder.
Levi pulls you into his chest, ignoring the tremble in his limbs.
From fear or adrenaline. 
From both.
“We have an injured Scout, but she’s still alive!” Eld shouts to the Garrison Regiment above with an urgency Levi’s never heard from the typically stoic man. “We need a wagon and medics, now!”
Between the flare and Eld’s command, the action is already set in motion.
The gears churn, slowly opening the large stone gate just enough for humans to clear in passing. 
Eld and Gunther are first.
Levi, not far after. 
The others, including Miro Squad, arrive seconds later.
Several Garrison soldiers pull up to the gate with a wagon suitable for approximately eight, maybe ten people.
Levi continues to hold you protectively to his chest as they prepare, cradling your neck with the utmost care.
One false move and the light goes out. 
(He knows how easy it is to take a human life.)
“Levi!”
He hears the wail of Hange’s voice in the midst of the panic.
His eyes search for them in the commotion, body stonelike, only to spy their unruly ponytail flying in the wind — with Moblit not far behind.
And...
Commander Erwin?
The tall blonde causes the crowd to divide in half, shoulders adorned with the Scout emeralds.
Hange and Moblit look just as horrified as he feels.
They run right up to the side of his horse calling your name, but their voices are all but mumbles to him.
Not when Erwin’s eyes bore into his.
Although the commander's expression is one of stone, Levi can sense what Erwin wants to say.
Unspoken deja vu; they’ve seen how this played out before.
Except this time, Levi has you in one piece.
He made it back this time.
He didn't forsake you.
(And he isn’t letting a titan take you from him. Not like Isabel. Not like Furlan.)
“Levi, what happened?!”
Hange rips him out of his trance, bringing him back to gruesome reality.
Medics finally arrive on the scene. Below him he can see Scout Rini directing them, immediately stepping back into his former occupation with ease.
On the sidelines, the remainder of Miro Squad huddles together.
Eyes watery and body trembling, some cry into their hands.
Some hide their faces in the shoulders of their comrades.
She’s not dead yet, he wants to snap at them. Don’t act like she’s gone. Not yet.
(If he repeats it enough, then can he make the impossible true?)
“She played hero, that’s what fucking happened," Levi seethes after he manages to find his voice, forcing it not to crack. "Saved a goddamn squad on her own against orders. She needs a doctor. I don’t know—”
“They need to take her, Levi,” Hange interrupts with an understanding softness in their tone. “Let her go.”
The captain’s under eye trembles.
“I’m going with her on the—”
“You will,” Hange promises, nodding quickly, “but you have to let her go so they can start working — before it’s too late.”
They're right.
The medics are waiting, just on the other side to receive her.
Slowly Levi unfurls his arms, one by one, and helps gently transfer you to the people he's entrusting your life to.
As soon as you're off of his lap, however, Levi swivels his legs off of his horse to follow suit.
Hange’s eyes widen as he dismounts, but Levi’s too busy watching them set you down in a sea of blankets and gauze. 
“Levi, your shirt. It’s…”
Briefly he turns his chin to glance up at his comrade, registering what they're saying before looking down:
Maroon.
Deep, deep maroon.
His once-white button down is stained with a mixture of grimy dirt and blood.
“It isn’t mine," is all he can think of saying back.
Hange's expression shifts in seconds, a certain slant of pity he hates witnessing.
He doesn't have the energy to fight Hange, Erwin, any of them.
Not when he has to get to you.
He has to stay with you no matter what.
With that statement lingering in the air, Levi abandons Hange to trudge over to the wagon. In one swift motion, the captain hops over the siding of the transport.
His knees fall just above your head, settling in place for the ride to the hospital.
Most of the medics are too busy ripping up your uniform to check for deep gashes and broken bones, documenting them as they gear up to leave, but a few glance at Levi with uncomfortable shock.
Then one brave soul speaks.
“Sir, we’ll need you to stay back.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Levi firmly states.
“But it—”
“The wagon fits ten. If you have a problem with it, we can talk later. She's on my squad.”
She's my responsibility, damn it, and I'm failing her.
The wagon dips once again in newfound weight, and a pair of knees come into view.
On the other side of James’ head rests Hange.
“I’m going, too," Hange states firmly.
Levi can feel his expression smoothing, one of reluctant gratitude.
He catches the sentiment, buries the emotion down his throat, and drops his chin to focus on James.
“C’mon, c’mon!" they shout to the medics for him. "Let’s go! We can't waste anymore time, damn it!”
With Hange’s order, the wagon takes off. 
In the initial jolt, Levi abruptly reaches both of his bloodied palms to rest on either side of your head, keeping it in place as the horses run the wagon to the Trost hospital.
The medics and Doctor Rini continue working amongst themselves, with Hange on the ledge observing.
Seconds feel like hours.
It's agony.
“We’re almost there,” he murmurs under his breath, to you and you alone. “Just a little longer, alright? We’re in the Walls. You went back and saved almost an entire squad by yourself, you overachieving piece of shit. So don’t give up now, damn it. Keep fighting.”
Despite not being alone this time, the captain is unwilling to stop talking for a single moment.
He can sense Hange’s eyes boring down the back of his neck, but he doesn’t care for decorum.
He doesn’t give a shit if this brings more questions at his front door.
This may be your last few moments with him.
So he won’t leave.
(He never left Mom, and he sure as fuck isn’t leaving you.)
“She’ll need extensive surgery.” 
A rogue murmur catches his attention.
When Levi looks up, he sees one of the medics addressing the doctor scout. Gravity brings a grimace to her face. 
A second medic frowns. “Do you think she’s going to—”
“Don’t say it,” Rini replies softly. “What she needs is our undivided attention. This is a Lieutenant of the Scouts, and she saved my life. Treat her life as your highest priority.”
Levi decides to say nothing.
There is nothing to be said — no argument will change the outcome.
As the wagon finally arrives at Trost medical, they’re received by staff with a gurney.
They begin prepping you to be transferred, but—
In a flurry, Hange gasps and leaps out of their seat to fiddle with your neck.
The sudden touch completely throws him off, causing him to protectively curl around you.
“The hell are you doing?”
“Her necklace, Levi,” Hange swiftly states, their own voice shaking. “The doctors could break it during surgery. You know she’d never let us live it down if they destroy it.”
His heart seizes.
Hange’s act of kindness isn’t lost on him.
You loved that damn thing. 
No, you love.
You’re still there.
It isn’t just a mere memory yet.
Belatedly nodding, the dark-haired man clears his throat. "Yeah, she'd be pissed."
"I thought so," Hange exhales, finally detaching the clasps.
It's the first time he's seen you without it since you were teenagers.
(Doesn't look right, being off your neck like that.)
Eventually the medics successfully transfer you to the awaiting gurney.
Without another word to Hange or himself, the team dedicating to saving your life run into the building.
Everything was a flurry until there was nothing.
Silence.
Levi’s shoulders slump as he’s forced to watch you disappear from his sight.
There wasn’t a chance to save Furlan or Isabel.
They’d been destroyed, limb from limb, before he could stop it from happening.
He’d managed to get you this far, but…
Now it was out of his hands.
His fists clench, determined to keep your blood close, protected, in his palms.
(Helpless.)
“Do you want to hold it for her?”
Hange’s voice enters his mind as he slowly turns his chin, blue-grey eyes finding the taller scout frowning.
Their eyes are glassy in a way he refuses.
Mourning.
Slowly they extend their arm, unfurling their fingers.
A lump forms in the middle of his throat at the sight of the glittering silver in their palm, the pendant still just as beautiful as the day you accepted his gift.
“Keep it, Four Eyes, and give it back to her when she wakes up.”
(If he touches it, then you might actually disappear. He already possesses enough keepsakes from the dead with a self-inflicted burden to carry them all. The world may have forgotten them, but he hasn’t. He won’t.)
“Levi…”
“She’s going to live, Hange.” 
Whether he says it to convince Hange or himself, Levi doesn’t know. Perhaps it’s for both of them.
He knows how much they adore you.
He’s no stranger to the fact that you’ve made your own home outside of him — they love you as much as he loves you.
“She’s a fighter. Always been once, ever since we were kids.”
The lack of shock in Hange’s gaze makes him wonder how much you’ve told them about the two of you.
“She’ll fight tooth and nail to get the hell back here.”
“I know she will,” Hange laments.
A blanket of silence envelops them as they continue to wait for any news outside of the hospital, together.
The longer he waits, the closer he feels to being ten years old again.
Alone.
So fucking along and so goddamn terrified to wait for the truth.
Because it’s either one or the other.
You live, or your story ends.
Levi inhales, holding his breath.
And holds.
And holds, childishly wishing it could be enough for the both of you.
Like if he doesn’t let go until you gasp for life, then he can save you.
He can keep you.
.
.
.
.
.
.
  He finally exhales, giving in to the collapse of his shoulders.
He can’t save you, just as much as he can’t keep you.
Levi knows this.
He’s known it since the second you woke up in that hospital bed without an ounce of warmth in those eyes of yours.
That was when he made his choice to leave you be, to give you a running shot at the life the two of you had always talked about.
He thought one day was grueling.
Impossible.
One day became one week.
One week into months.
He stayed away, but at what cost?
He hasn’t slept right in this bed.
He barely eats.
He opts to show his face at the mess hall with his standard cup of black tea to keep up the appearances.
If the real you died that day, then he was certain he died right alongside you.
Now, within six agonizing months, you’ve saved yourself — chose yourself — to still somehow end up right back where he left you.
(That kiss, tattooed with the permanence of the loss of you, still burns his lips from yesterday.)
You might remember.
You might know who you really are.
You might know him.
The sink below rattles.
It takes a second, but when he shifts his dissociative stare to his thumb, he notes the tremble.
He grips tighter, squeezing, before giving up. He pushes away from it altogether, cradling his forearm to suppress it himself. 
Focus.
Find your sanity and ease it back.
Maybe you won’t say what he wants to hear, but he promised like a fool.
Don’t push me away. Don’t shut me out.
I won't, he promised. I’ll never.
Hearing the horses whinny to a halt outside, he scrubs his face with his hand and chooses to turn on a heel to stalk towards the door.
He’ll scope out how everyone’s doing, make a cup of tea, mull all this shit over—
Then he opens his door to your face.
You stand before him, hand raised like you were about to knock.
Frozen in time just like he feels.
James.
Levi can’t feign indifference when he stares back at you, not when it’s almost unsettling how much more… you, you look right now. 
Life radiates from a dead body. You’re not apologetic in getting caught, just apologetic that you nearly slammed the knuckles of your fist into his face.
For a moment, there’s silence. 
He can hear the other scouts talking amongst themselves downstairs.
And before he can say a word, you speak.
“Can we please—”
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t let you finish.
There’s no reason.
Rip the bandage off the congealed blood.
Call it a day, if he is meant to lose it all.
His hand extends the door on its hinge, inviting space for you.
“Yeah, might as well.”
You step in, and Levi prepares for the worst.
.
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author's note: a lot of you had asked for levi's pov on the events that went down, and i've been waiting to get his side of the story.
thank you for reading the final few chapters of this journey. you are all so very wonderful for the encouragement, the engagement, etc. on both here and ao3. i hope all of my rebloggers have a good night's sleep and a little treat; you are the soul of this story.
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zoozvie · 27 days
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Imagine // Levi makes you tea
You hate black tea. It’s way too bitter and Levi doesn’t make it with any sugar. But when it’s late in the mess hall and you two are leaning into each other's space to softly discuss your pasts, stupid things you’ve seen your higher-ups do, or complaining about the workload the recruits are bringing you. Levi makes it for you.
So you’ll drink every last drop.
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Masterlist
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mangaka-pikushi · 4 months
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Working on character settei's. My heart is dying at his cuteness!!
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ariessential · 7 months
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So, here is the thing. @amywritesthings is writing a great fanfic.....that's it.
Struggled a bit with how to include James, since she obviously doesn't have a physical description and shouldn't have one. Also, I never spent so much time on a background. Yes, I drew every single cobble stone. It had to be done.
Now go, read Silver Underground
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7m7n7 · 6 days
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this years levi lore really goes insane. how can u validate my “he was bending everyone over during his underground thug days” hc and expect me to function like a normal human being
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littler13 · 8 months
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What if…
Fem!Reader (Isabel Magnolia’s sister) x Levi Ackerman in a secret affair.
Not a full day goes by before Levi makes his way into the clinic again, locking the door behind him as soon as he gets in. Like a man on a mission, set on what he wants — the only way he knows how to live, an intensity that consumes you entirely. You turn to look at him from where you’re standing in front of the desk, frowning while he approaches.
“I wasn’t expecting you today,” you’re cut short and breathless when he reaches you, picking you up and landing you on the table in a swift movement. You hear the sound of objects tumbling to the ground, impatient hands moving them away. There’s not even time to giggle before his lips are covering yours, soft and wet and demanding, but you smile against them nevertheless. “What about Furlan and Isabel?”
“I told them I’d meet them at the apartment later, and that I needed to clear my head or another dumb excuse,” he breathes close to your mouth, closed eyes, hiding the heat that lives within them for this short instant.
You nod and sigh, already crumbling under his hands so easily. There are many things you know by now, about his body as well as your own, all the different ways desire and pleasure can be dragged out and brought to completion. Still, there are some things about the nature of this that you can’t quite figure out, which maybe attests to your lack of experience beyond him: are you supposed to feel your pulse quicken from the sight of him only? Sense his presence like a shift in atmosphere, engulfed by the scent of him from afar? Be consumed by the familiar tugging in your lower abdomen and have heat spreading through your center even before his touch has reached you? Could any man make you feel this way, if not Levi?
It’s been months of this, quick escapades between patients and robberies, secret sessions of stolen kisses and undercover sighs. You’re used to his impatience, the urge he has to reach out and touch after days of carefully crafted indifference. He was never one for physical contact, and you suppose you weren’t, either. You wonder why it feels different, now: is this only the effect that life-long deprivation can cause in people? Is that why you feel addicted to it, while he looks restless and even greedy every time you do this? In spite of your own natures, closeness calls to you, as if you’ve only recently found out that you’ve been starving from the lack of it.
Whatever it may be that causes this, you like it. You like it too much , a scorning voice appears to whisper in your ear. Its insistence makes you pull away, also halting his crumpling hands over your shirt at the sides of your body. It’s only then that you’re able to take a good look at his face, the slight furrowing of his forehead that indicates he’s upset about something.
“Elric withdrew from the deal again, the bastard,” he explains before you even ask. “He said it’s become too risky to conduct business with us, because of those idiots from the Military Police that have been on our asses. As if they’ll ever even come close,” he scoffs. While he speaks, your fingers drift from his nape to the sides of his neck, unconsciously trying to soothe him. You think he likes that — one more idiosyncrasy in your arrangement —, but you never really asked.
That’s a big issue, because Elric is an important client with enough purchasing power to push you closer to the surface with each successful business. His withdrawal is a tough setback, and it also means less money to afford the high-end medicines that Yan requires. Levi has every reason to be disappointed.
He leans in again, making his intentions clear. No more talking . This is what he does: he’s upset, he comes here. He’s particularly satisfied about a deal, he comes here. He’s not feeling anything at all, just drifting through the day and trying to find something to take him out of his numbness, his footsteps lead him to this same awaiting place with open arms and legs. This will never not be a mystery to you: why does he do it? Is it boredom, routine, distraction? And why do you keep letting him in? You can pretend not to know the answer to this last question, even though the truth of it has become increasingly hard to ignore.
His kisses become more pressing, hands working to open the buttons of your shirt, lips falling to your neck — good . He mumbles against your skin, finger drifting to draw patterns on the patches of your body he skillfully exposes. There’s a drunkenness to him that only becomes evident in moments such as these, which makes you think he actually likes this as much as you do. There’s lust in his stance, but also care — right?
You sigh and try to keep up, but the rushing thoughts slow your movements. It’s not that you’re starting to question this; it has more to do with the fact that you haven’t questioned this at all, ever since it started. Things just happened and kept on happening, and you told yourself that it was enough to go with the flow, just following wherever it would lead you. You don’t know what changed, exactly, but something seems to have, as the strong pounding of your chest every time he walks in would indicate; or the way you’ve been struggling to keep your hands to yourself in front of Isabel and Furlan, now, having to be extra careful not to let your excitement show when Levi’s fingers graze your skin or when Levi’s eyes flicker across the room to find yours.
“Aren’t you afraid Furlan will figure it out at this rate? He did say he’s onto us,” you recall the vow Furlan swore to see through only yesterday, trying to sound playful, both arms around Levi’s shoulders. Still holding him close in spite of your unexpected, spiraling doubts, legs opening to accommodate his body. He sighs and rests his forehead over your shoulder, leaning both hands on each side of you over the table. Sensing your hesitancy; frustrated about it? He raises his head to look at a spot beyond you, and you want to kiss his cheek. But you refrain yourself from doing it, because that would be purely affectionate, not at all seductive. Would he like it?
“It took months for him to even start suspecting,” he huffs. He seems tired, as the marks under his eyes would suggest. And he came here. Your heart aches inexplicably just from the sight of him, a disgruntling sensation. “At this rate, we’ll find our ways to the surface long before his slow head figures it out”.
And would that be so bad? , you bite your tongue before you say it. Not telling seemed to make sense when this abruptly started. It was never a decision, but something you ended up rolling along with, since it was easier to just keep it between you than to try to explain — hey, we’re casually fucking, is that cool with you?
But time passed — months that seem to hold the same worth of decades. Isabel is not a training girl Levi and Furlan took in anymore, but a steady part of the gang. And you’re not simply Isabel’s sister, but a close addition to the group and a constant part of their plans and ideas. You can’t see yourself parting ways with them, the closest to family you think you’ll ever get. None of you ever dared say the word to each other, almost afraid to jinx it; but it’s true.
So you want to say something about it, but you don’t know what . It’s been a thrilling secret, and maybe you should feel satisfied with that. But you want more , and you’re afraid he’ll keep getting comfortable with less , until whatever this is will just fade into nothing.
“I’m sorry for the deal,” you whisper instead, trying to remind yourself of why he’s here , convince yourself of a satisfying reason. It’s not just sex, but the comfort that exists in it. Deep down, he must know you understand , and that you’re someone he can share his frustrations with — which has happened time and time again, in the form of disgruntled, scattered admissions. You know him, and he knows you; that’s enough, or it has to be.
He doesn’t respond, but his eyes soften, his hand raising to hold your cheek in a way that is almost tender. When he kisses you again, you can feel the vibration of a hum pouring into your tongue, low and sultry, reaching out to spread through your whole body. Languidness takes over the previous rush, your hands bringing his face even closer, wanting to exist in the way your mouths meld together. He bites your bottom lip hard and licks it within a heartbeat, blurring the line between pain and pleasure until you’re unable to tell them apart. Unable to recognize your own voice, needy and breathy, whimpering his name in half agony, half rapture.
His left hand continues to cradle your face affectionately — you can tell yourself that —, tongue meeting yours in a slow dance. Your fingers dig into his hair, then wander down to feel the expanse of his chest, the shape of his muscles, almost cut-open and bleeding from the sharpness they meet in every corner of him. From the ethereal contour of his face to the honed sturdiness of his body, all of him seems to rip you apart and exposed, an incredibly gentle experience in spite of the deadliness. His hands are soft where they touch you, intent and so warm, drifting to rest on your thighs. Kneading, coaxing, thumbs circling the sensitive region of your lap until you’re dizzy and panting with want.
Your shirt is already half open from his previous efforts, enough of your cleavage showing for his eyes to get caught in it, simultaneously glinting and darkening with lust. He kisses his way down your throat and collarbone, his rhythm building into what it was before, desperate and hungry while he ravages your skin and leaves hidden marks on his wake. You almost cry out when his fingers graze your center, at the same time his lips close around your pebbled nipple over your thin undershirt.
So good , you can hear him mutter from time to time, nodding your head in earnest. He’s not much of a talker when you do this, but his occasional words of encouragement and appreciation are enough to make your insides melt. This is good , your mind repeats in a loop, too damn good , your shirt finally falling all the way down from your shoulder while you work to undo the buttons of his, completely intoxicated in him. His scent, the sweep of his tongue against your lips, the flexing of his arms when they pull you impossibly closer. You have all of this memorized by now, even if it feels new in every repetition.
You’re unraveling with every one of his low groans, the spark in his eyes raising too big of a fire that licks you inside and out, an exquisite burning. This is good , and you know him, don’t you? You know the effect he has on your body, the lowness of his voice, the bite of his clever statements as well as the softness hidden behind the harsh way in which he sometimes delivers his words. But you also know why he holds teacups from the top instead of the handle, the story of how hot liquid stained his clothes and scorched his skin when the delicate china snapped, making him too wary to trust it again. You know how he and Furlan met, the kind of childish alliance that only neglected kids can find in each other, growing into an unbreakable fellowship with every passing week, for years, now. You know that he hates his birthday and the way that it coincides with Christmas, reminding him of the kind of homely celebration he will never experience. The smell of death and the ache in his stomach at the small room he was confined to when too little to escape it, as well as the second desertion he was met with in his life when mysterious eyes turned his back on him for the last time.
You bury your head in the crook of his neck and sigh, letting the feeling of his hands on your breasts take over you completely, the familiarity of it all. The dangerous, delicious familiarity.
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youre-ackermine · 9 months
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Here's my entry for Levi Week 2023 Day 2: Underground City
Cross posted on X (Twitter)
@leviweek2023
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My entry for Day 1: Tea Shop HERE
Follow the event on Tumblr HERE
Follow the event on X/Twitter HERE
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fleabrainedmania · 5 months
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~From the darkness to the light, let your wings fly free~
Last drawing of 2023 and of course, it had to be my boi #Levi
He's come so far!
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
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made a lil sum 🫶🏾 🖤 what y’all think? Wanted to give y’all better visual of his aesthetic and what his music sounded like. This isn’t ALL of the muses but yeah, a start! :) If y’all don’t have Spotify, lmk, I’ll try to make a YouTube version.
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Levi wasn’t experienced with sex until he met you, but he learned pretty quickly what you liked.
He learned quite quickly right where you’re g spot was, how you liked it being hit by his cock slamming into you. How you liked his fingers gently poking at it, and then licking your cum of his fingers making eye contact with you.
He quickly learned where you’re soft spot was, right on the side of your nape. It was one of his favorite parts too, he could feel your pulse against his lips as he sucked at the spot, trying to get moans to pass your lips.
He quickly learned what your favorite position is while he ate you out. You laying on your back, as you thighs rested on his shoulders, his tongue going to work on your clit and pushing deeper inside you. He would also learn that you like him lifting your ass and holding you up, allowing better access to your sweet liquids. He secretly like that you liked that too.
He quickly learned that you loved him riding you, as he slowly moved in and out, sucking at your neck, hearing your moans, as he pushes deeper, trying to keep his hips from bouncing to hard on you.
He quickly learned how much he loved fucking you.
“I was always a fast learner darling.” He said through a soft moan, filling you with his thick cum.
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sonamytrash · 1 month
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Bad, bad boy.
Underground Levi x F! Reader
An: With bad boy out in less than four days, I felt inspired to write some sexy underground Levi.
Warnings: S3x, semi public s3x, dirty talk, alcohol drinking mentioned, smoking mentioned, reader has big tiddies, underground Levi, fem reader, female anatomy described, vaginal fingering, multiple org@sms, creampie, unprotected s3x.
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The dimly lit bar, nestled deep within the labyrinthine underground, was a haven for those seeking solace from the harsh realities of their world. The warm glow of amber lights danced across the rough-hewn walls with a haze of cigarette smoke hanging in the air like a thin veil.
He'd been nursing his drink for the better part of an hour, lost in thought, when you walked in. Levi glanced up as he felt a familiar presence. Something about you had caught his eye weeks ago - the way you moved, the confidence in your step, your curvaceous figure that seemed to demand attention.
The beautiful woman who had been frequenting his thoughts, and this bar as often as he. Your hair fell in waves down your back, and your eyes seemed to glow in the low light. You were dressed in a form-fitting black dress that hugged your body tightly. You were always a striking contrast to the drab surroundings of the underground. He could feel his heart race as your eyes met, the connection between the two of you almost tangible.
Your eyes adjusted to the light, scanning the crowd for his familiar face. You spotted him almost immediately; Levi, the short, brooding man with piercing blue eyes and a body that could make even the most jaded of women weak at the knees. His gaze was locked on you, and you could feel it like a physical touch, sending shivers down your spine.
You smiled to yourself, taking a step forward. The sound of your high-heeled shoes clicking on the floor seemed to echo through the bar, drawing everyone's attention to you. Levi's gaze never wavered as you sauntered to towards him, feeling more and more confident with each step.
It was true that your mere presence demanded the gaze of everyone in the room. And as often as other regulars tried to court you, it was all in vain. Very rarely did you bother to give them the time of day. Most of these men were filthy, obnoxious, and rude. But there was something about Levi, something you decided was becoming too much to ignore. He was always so well kempt, so aloof. Why not indulge your curiosity? for just tonight.
Finally, you reached the bar and leaned down, your breasts grazing the surface. "Whiskey, please." You purred to the bartender, your voice low and sultry.
Without another word, you slid onto the bar stool next to him as the man behind the counter poured your drink, your knees brushed against each other as you crossed your legs, sending a wave of desire coursing through the both if you.
Levi glanced at you, his expression unreadable. He took a sip of his drink, and then another, as if to steady his nerves. "You come here often, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. "But you never seem to leave with anyone." He comments.
You smirked, taking a sip of your own drink, "About as often as you." You reply, "and I could say the same, I leave whenever I can manage to slip away, can't a woman enjoy a drink without having to go home with someone?." you continued, raising an eyebrow, your own voice equally husky. He shrugs in response "I'm not judging you, there's fuck all else to do in this shit hole." He says, taking another drink.
"You're Levi, right?" You asked. You weren't sure why you were asking; you already knew who he was. You had seen him here every other night, alone at the corner of the bar. He'd drink a few whiskeys and leave, much like yourself.
The handsome, brooding man in the corner had caught your attention weeks ago, and you knew he was trouble. You had thoroughly enjoyed watching him effortlessly wipe the floor with the owner of the establishment in an arm wrestle. Each and every time you saw one another, there was an exchange of glances from across the room. An unspoken longing that was evident in his gaze.
He nodded, still not taking his eyes off you. "And you must be y/n." he said, his voice rough with desire. "I've seen you here, watching me. I didn't know if you were interested, or just curious...either way, you never try to hide the fact." He smirked.
"Well, I've heard stories about you," you admitted playfully, taking another sip of whiskey. "You're quite the legend, you and your friends, you know that? So I suppose you could say I'm both curious and interested." You tease.
Levi raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" he drawled, his voice laced with skepticism. "And what have you heard?"
You leaned closer to him, your breath fanning his cheek. "Well, I've heard you're strong, fearless, and loyal to a fault," you said, your voice lowering even further. "They say you're reckless, but I think it's just that you don't know how to back down from a fight." You trail your fingers gently over his knee and slowly up his leg, your face closer still until your lips were millimetres away from his ear. "They say you're nothing but trouble,"
Levi shot you a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable. "Funny, they say the same about you." he replies, another sip.
You smiled, feeling a thrill run through you at his words. "They say I'm trouble," you admit, your voice low and sultry. "That I'm always up to something, and that you should stay away from me if you know what's good for you." You rest your head in your hand, tilting it innocently. A playful smile painted accross your lips.
Levi chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your ear. "Well, it seems we've both been given some interesting reputations," he said, his gaze locked on you. "I have to admit, I'm curious. What do you think we should do about that?"
You leaned even closer, your breath tickling his neck. "I think," you whispered, "we should see just how much trouble we can get into together." Your fingers traced circles on his thigh, and he could feel the heat emanating from your body. "Don't you agree, Levi?"
He smirked, knocking back the last of his drink and then set it down on the bar. "I think," he growled, his voice rough with desire, "that we've danced around whatever this is long enough. "
You didn't seem the least bit intimidated, which only served to fuel his curiosity and arousal further as you smirked, standing up and gesturing towards the door.
Without another word, he slid off his stool and followed you out of the bar. The cool night air hit you like a wave as you stepped onto the street. You lit up a cigarette, cupping your hands around it to shield the flickering light. Levi stood beside you, close enough that he could feel the heat from your body, the tip of the glowing red stick illuminating your face in the darkness. Levi took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart as he watched you exhale smoke into the air.
After some moments, Levi followed your gaze, taking in the darkened alleyway to the left. He grabs your arm, leading you down the alleyway, dropping your cigarette in the process. "What a waste." You complain, your lips curling into a wicked grin as he presses you against the rough brick wall. He reaches out and trails his fingers down your cheek, feeling the softness of your skin beneath his touch. "Finally." He purrs before your your lips meet in a hungry, desperate kiss. Your body pressed against his, hands tangled in his hair, your tongues intertwined, mixing the tastes of alcohol and nicotine. Levi revelles in the curve of your breast against his chest. He pushes you harder against the wall, your lips still locked, bodies grinding together in a frenzy of desire.
A low, guttural groan rumbles in his chest as he presses his body flush against yours, his fingers trailing up your sides. His tongue sweeps in and out of your mouth, urgently exploring, as his kisses grow more demanding. Pulling away slightly, he murmurs against your lips, "Fuck, I've wanted this for so long..." His hands slide down to grip and lift your plush thighs, silently urging you to wrap your legs around him.
Levi lets out a shuddered groan as you wrap your legs around his waist and press yourself against his hardness. His grip tightens on your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Fucking tease," he growls, grinding his hips against you. His lips capture yours in another searing kiss, all tongue and teeth.
One hand slides up your body to cup your breast, kneading the supple flesh as his thumb teases your nipple through the thin fabric. "You have no idea what you do to me," he mutters against your lips, his voice a low, rumbling rasp.
"Oh, I do, Levi...." You moan in between kisses, taking his face into your hands, biting hip lip seductively. "I've seen the way you look at me." A moan escapes you as he tweaks your hard nipple through your dress. "You like these, don't you?" You tease breathlessly.
Levi's eyes darken with desire as he hears your seductive words. "You have no idea," he growls, his fingers kneading your breast with more fervour. His hips grind against your core, the hardness in his pants pressing deliciously against you.
With a low, rumbling chuckle, his hot breath caressing your neck. "These tits drive me wild," he murmurs, nipping at the sensitive skin on your neck. He yanks the dress down, baring your upper body to his hungry gaze. A low, guttural groan rumbles in his chest as he drinks in the sight of your ample breasts. "I'm going to enjoy every inch of you." His teeth graze your neck again, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from your lips. His other hand slides down to grip your rear, pulling you up tighter against him. "But you know what I want even more?"
You throw your head back against the wall and moan as you feel his hard cock through his trousers rubbing against your dampened cunt. "Mmmph, I can take a pretty good guess." you say, rolling your hips again against him suggestively, tightening your legs around his waist.
He smirks as his grip on your hips tightens further, his eyes narrowing with predatory hunger. "I want to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, milking me dry." He hikes up your dress as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging them aside. "Can you handle that?" he growls, his voice thick with desire. His lips crash against yours again, his tongue plundering your mouth as his hands roam your body.
You nod breathlessly. "Even if I can't, don't stop...." You purr.
Levi's eyes flash with dark desire at your breathless response. His fingers tease your slick folds, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. "Good girl," he murmurs against your skin, nipping at your neck and travelling diwn to take one of your nipples into his mouth. Without warning, he plunges two digits deep into your quivering heat, curling them to stroke your most sensitive spot. His thumb presses against your swollen clit, rubbing in firm, tantalizing circles. "You're so fucking wet for me, I can't wait to bury my cock in this tight little pussy."
You didn't make a habit of hooking up with men in bars, but something about him made you weak in the knees and you were right to follow your intuition. You bit your lip in an effort to suppress a moan.
Levi's eyes flash with wicked delight at your muffled moans. "Don't be shy now y/n, let me hear you," he growls, his fingers picking up pace as they pump in and out of your slick heat. His thumb presses harder against your swollen nub, drawing out more delicious whimpers. Leaning in close again, he captures your lips in another hungry kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure. "You feel so fucking good. I'm going to make you come so hard on my fingers before I split you open on my cock."
"W-what a dirty mouth." You hiss, your eyes rolling upwards blissfully, fingers gripping the undercut at the back of his head harder. He really is as strong as they say, gripping your ass effortlessly and pinning you against the wall while finger fucking you, what a fucking treat.
Levi's lips curve into a devious smirk at your breathless taunt. "Looks to me like you love it," he growls, his fingers curling and thrusting with renewed fervor. "You're fucking soaked. Now come for me, nice and hard." He grinds his palm against your sensitive clit, his piercing gaze fixed intently on your face as he works to bring you to the edge. A man had never made you cum so fast before, Levi's fingers curl and stroke relentlessly as your orgasm crashes over you, your entire body shuddering against him. He swallows your desperate moans with a searing kiss, drinking in every quiver and twitch of your pussy around his digits. "That's it, let it all out," he murmurs roughly against your lips. When your climax finally begins to ebb, he slowly withdraws his hand, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. "Delicious," he growls, his eyes smoldering with dark desire.
Levi's eyes are fixated on you as he watches you guide his hand to your lips before you lick and suck his fingers clean. A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest. "Fuck, you're insatiable," he growls, pressing his body flush against yours. His hands grip your hips again, pulling you snug against his straining erection. 
"I need to be inside you," he rasps, his hands gripping your hips possessively. In one swift motion, his fingers deftly work to unfasten his pants, freeing his aching hardness. "Hold onto me," he growls, guiding the tip of his cock to your slick, quivering entrance. With a sharp thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, a guttural moan tearing from his throat. His eyes fluttering shut as your tight, soaking pussy envelops his aching length. A strangled groan tumbles from his lips as he stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his impressive cock, "So fucking tight..."
Levi's hips begin piston relentlessly, driving his thick cock into your sopping pussy with bruising force. Each powerful thrust punched the breath from your lungs, his cock plumbing your depths. The cold brick wall pressed against your back, but it only seemed to heighten the sensation of being so close to him. He grunted and growled with primal satisfaction, his fingers leaving bruises on your hips. "That's it, fucking take it all," he rasped, his voice dripping with lust. "Your greedy cunt is loving this...." His pace grew more erratic as he neared the edge, desperate to find his own release.
Levi's grip on your hips remains tight, pounding into you with deep, relentless thrusts. His breath comes in ragged gasps, mingling with your desperate moans.
Levi's calloused hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he fucks you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the alleyway. His steel-gray eyes blaze with primal hunger, locked on your face as he drinks in every pleasured moan and gasp that tumbles from your lips.
"Cum all over my cock, I want to feel you dripping down my thighs." He states as his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in circles with just the right amount of pressure.
"Levi," You moan breathlessly, arching your back as your body tensed, ready to explode.
Levi felt your muscles clench around him, your walls rippling as they contracted, your breath hitching in your throat. He thrust deeper, harder, faster as he felt the hot rush of your release, the tightening of your inner muscles around him. He groaned into your neck, feeling your body shudder with the force of your orgasm.
Levi's eyes are fixated on you as you convulse around his throbbing length, your desperate cries of pleasure sending a jolt of primal satisfaction through him. With a feral growl, he redoubles his efforts, slamming his hips against yours at a punishing pace as he chases his own release.
Levi leans in, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss as his rhythm begins to falter, his muscles tensing as the thick ropes of his release spill deep inside you. "Fuck... Levi!" you whimper against his lips, his hips grinding into you as he empties himself completely.
Levi's taut frame shudders, his fingers digging into your hips as he rides out the aftershocks of his release. His steel-gray eyes are molten with satisfaction, his usually stoic features etched with unbridled bliss.
You both remained there for a moment, panting, your chests heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The alleyway seemed to swirl around you as you came to your senses. You leaned your head back against the rough brick wall, feeling the coolness seep into your flushed skin.
"So," mischievous glint in your eye, "you ready for more trouble?"
Levi grinned, his gaze travelling up and down your body. "Only if it comes in the form of you."
You smirk playfully, feeling a thrill of excitement run through you. "My place, it's not far from here." You managed to say between ragged breaths. "Lead the way," he said, his voice rough with desire.
You laughed the sound low and husky. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear. "Come on then, you bad, bad boy. Let's go."
182 notes · View notes
amywritesthings · 2 months
Text
silver underground. | chapter 21
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( Read on AO3 )
Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.8k Summary: day 163 - also know as the day your world changed Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - mentions of violence, death, bloodshed; miscommunications; amnesia trope; angst af
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CHAPTER 21
Bergamot. 
He smells like fresh dirt and home and bergamot.
A pair of arms cocoon around you, holding you in place. Cradling the back of your head, lifting it from touching the ground, is a strong palm. 
Sounds of the outside world are muffled; distant.
Here all you can hear is the wild thumping of your heart, your blood strongly coursing through your veins.
I am alive.
I am alive.
I am alive.
The crash happened so fast—
Falling from the sky. Sliding across the forest floor. Rolling over and over and over—
Until your body stopped abruptly against a cushion of muscle.
When the dust cloud settles, when the fog fades into vapor, you open your eyes.
Shades of deep, vertical brown overtake your vision. It's so vibrant, familiar yet new. For what feels like hours you stare at a small bug, a speckled ladybug, crawling in circles until it decides to head north.
With each passing exhale your attention travels with it — up, up, up — when causation connects:
One of the mighty tree trunks of the forest broke this violent fall.
(But not just for you — he was the one to take the brunt of the damage.)
He...
When your lips part, your mouth is dry.
Constricted, confused lungs try for their very first breath.
Inhale.
Breathe.
Stay with me.
But that isn't your voice; not in your mind's eye.
Blurry images flash along your vision, sprinkling red, black, and silver against the brush and trees of the forest.
No matter how many times you blink, squeeze, tear up, the visuals scatter like materialized pins and needles.
They won't go away. They clip to your peripheral, forcing you to confront what's ahead.
Nothing is linear. Nothing is clear.
Nausea, relief, uncertainty, rage — these emotions assault your senses. Emotions. Mind.
It’s like waking up after a horrible dream.
One you’ve been kicking and screaming to leave the minute it started.
Let me out.
The freefall plays over and over, a never-ending loop of sickening weightlessness, without a means to jolt yourself awake.
Let me out, let me out, let me— 
Something mirrors your heart beat and fractures in its own rhythm, pounding erratically against your chest.
Your heart still beats, but not as panicked — not as heavy — as this.
As... his.
Him — the one who broke your fall.
(Levi.)
Without thinking, your trembling hand rises past his ribcage, up his arm, to his fingers resting on your trembling shoulder.
Then you realize it isn't your body that's shaking.
It's Levi's.
Quivering like a leaf, gasping for breath as if he’s run a marathon. 
He doesn’t move. He’s frozen in time, right where you left him.
(I’m sorry.)
Over and over, you replay precious seconds in the back of your mind — fractured memories you’ve only just begun to uncover.
Falling.
Darkness. 
(James? James, shit, wake up—)
A voice crack.
Hopelessness.
Instinctively your arms surround him, as if dissolving him into your very pores will somehow help with the confusion in your gut. 
Even when your fingers raise hire on your shoulder to glide along his, he doesn’t relax. 
If anything, his ivory muscles forge into steel.
Prepared, like you’re the enemy.
They do not soften when your fingers curl, timid and experimental, around his hand for reassurance.
(Wake up.)
They do not yield when you exhale, slow and steady.
They do not rest when you squeeze, as if to offer a sign of life.
(Please, James, don’t do this to—)
“Levi.”
Two syllables — you murmur his very name, realizing the severity of all that you’ve missed.
The dampness of the Underground City right above your heads;
The heat of the sun on a riverbank of the surface;
The light of the morning, just outside an open window, glittering over a bare shoulder;
All puzzle pieces, scattered across a large table.
They fit together in a way — you just need to figure out where.
When you inch your face away from his body, you see it: those blue-gray eyes, pupils dilated and whites wide, staring straight through you.
(As though lost in another time, in the same nothingness you’d lost yourself in for months.)
His chest heaves in and out, trying to catch a breath that just won’t come.
Wretched, heavy gasps contain the fear.
The panic.
All while reliving, too.
“Levi?” you ask once more, softer this time.
A sharp battle cry sounds above your heads. You glance high to witness the silhouette of Petra flying through the canopy of trees with a trail of steam behind her, swords extended.
The titan has been defeated. 
The forest floor quakes and shivers with its demise.
Except that isn’t how the mission happened last time.
The realization is a chilling thought creeping, infecting, the back of your mind as you return your attention to the captain in front of you.
“Levi.” 
You urge firmer this time, but it’s no use.
Levi Ackerman continues to stare ahead, but he blinks. Rapid fire, as if trying to return to his body.
This face.
You gravitate towards this face that consumes every waking dream you’ve ever had.
Caging his face between your palms, you finally snap with a command.
“Levi, look at me.”
His gray eyes shoot down, catching yours, and your entire world feels warm again.
The light in a never-ending darkness.
Your past is your present and your present tumbles into your past.
An undiscovered constellation of points in your memory that haven’t quite lined up yet, but him…
All you know is that you have missed him, this incorrigible man, lying beside you.
And all this time, it is Levi Ackerman that holds the frame of the puzzle you have been trying to solve.
Instinctively your thumbs run along his cheekbones, causing his eyes to grow impossibly wider.
Unwise, perhaps, but the softened motion brings you comfort unlike anything else, tethering bits and pieces together in the mind by touch alone.
Bits and pieces, to bigger pictures —
You — a nobody from the Underground City, meant to die by the hands of greed and saved by ones of promise.
You — a formidable fighter, a friend, a colleague, a lover.
You — Lieutenant James, member of the Special Operations squad in the Survey Corps.
Maybe you don’t have the whole story yet, but whoever she is… whoever you are…
She’s supposed to be right here.
Levi’s eyes flutter over your face as if to search for injury or damage, but he doesn’t remove his arms from your body. The captain continues to cradle you as if you'll disappear, dissolve, into the mist that swallows your very waking daydreams.
So you lean closer, murmuring just under your breath with pure wonder.
Recognition.
“I know you.”
‘You know me.’
You recall standing right in front of him months ago, begging in a stable.
Those fateful few months before you really knew how close you were to the truth.
'You know me, but you won’t help me. Why?’
That doubt on his face, deeply ingrained in curbed expectations.
It's a memory you haven’t been able to shake, not since you awoke from the hospital.
Now it twists into something much darker.
‘Because you finally have an out.’
Profound sadness infects your stomach when one jagged edge aligns with another.
The memory, fresh as morning dew on a weed, sprouts before your very eyes.
Yes, you do know him.
Yes, he wouldn’t help you.
Because you’ve been down this road before.
But not like this.
Not wrapped up like two star crossed lovers.
(That’s why you hate me.)
— suddenly your back meets the ground.
A pair of hands abruptly push you, knocking you down to the forest floor with a whoosh of a small oof from your lungs.
Your eyes connect with the bright blue sky, the twinkling of green leaves, the expanse of a bird's wing flying high above.
I know this place.
Why can't you say it out loud?
In a hasty cloud of dust, Levi's boots keep up dirt as he scrambles off of you.
To steady himself, his pale palm presses to the tree trunk. He heaves once, twice, before exhaling fully.
Breath finally returns to his body. What once was pale now has color.
When you eventually turn your gaze to him, he glares directly at you, but it isn’t cruel.
Feral, maybe, and diluted in his own confusion, but not cruel.
(You’d never witnessed someone so beautiful in your life.)
In a new light, you finally see him — a mirror image of two worlds, old and new. Of what your body misses to its very core. Of what your mind wants to remember, to know as intimately as it once did.
Slowly you roll to your belly and push up with your arms. You draw up on one knee, your hand instinctively raising to graze your neck.
There.
The silver pendant, tiny and profound, remains intact. 
The fall didn’t destroy it.
Immense relief floods your system, and your fingers cradle it like a lifeline.
'You don’t own anything. Now you do.'
That melodic baritone guides your ghost of a hand, adhering one more piece to the puzzle.
A fuller frame.
All you want to do is run to him, speak to him, hear his voice, but all you can do is watch as he cycles through the motions of getting his shit together.
Struggling through stages of anger, betrayal, relief, and longing — 
Before addressing you as Captain Levi would.
Because he doesn’t know.
He didn’t hear.
(You didn't say.)
“Are you out of your mind?”
An ironic question, all things considered. 
Your lips part to answer, but his finger raises to warn against that judgment.
A curtain of dark fringe hangs over his eyes, shoulders heaving.
“Direct insubordination against your superior,” he spits, but the edge to his voice is frayed.
He’s barely hanging on by mere threads. You want to knit them back together so badly.
“And endangering the entire squad–”
“Levi—"
“Oluo would have been fine, but you? You weren’t ready.”
Standing on both feet now, you ignore the dirt and debris on your white uniform and take a step forward in earnest. 
“Levi, if you would just—”
“I didn’t ask you to speak, James.”
His bark is as cold as ice, causing you to stop your pleas right in their tracks.
Your own wide eyes stare at him as he reprimands you, seemingly unhinged by what has transpired.
Your mouth shuts into a thin line, willing yourself to hear him out.
To hear him.
Piece by piece, the image fills—
“Commander Erwin was wrong to put you back in the Scouts," Levi growls. It’s spoken as if to convince himself of that very truth. “Abandoning your horse, defying my orders, acting without any regard for your fellow squad mates—”
He seethes, a flicker of rage fluttering across his face.
“—the recklessness of your actions could have cost not only your life, but the lives of my squad.”
“Our squad,” you correct boldly without realizing you’ve said the words out loud.
Wrong answer. His anger only grows.
“My,” he corrects viciously, “squad. You are a—”
“—Lieutenant, which is practically the same rank as you,” you blurt with your own anger, the adrenaline flushed through your veins as newfound familiarity seeps into your veins. "The titles don't mean anything. It's just shit made up for people like us."
“Excuse me?” he growls, and you don’t let up.
“And I know Commander Erwin has always favored you more, but you only pull ahead of me by two goddamn months in the Scout Regiment,” you desperately rasp, the excitement too great, “so shut the hell up and listen to me, Levi Ackerman, because I know you.”
Exhaling your frustrations in heavy heaps, you refuse to cower.
There is no reason to fear this man. There never was.
"I know you," you repeat, defeated.
As if you've confessed at the foot of his altar.
Levi, despite all of his anger, turns his chin sideways with a growing bewilderment. 
Now that you speak, you can see the dots connecting behind his very eyes. 
All you can do is hope — all you have is hope.
When he doesn't say anything, you step forward and continue.
"This whole time. This entire time you've tried... you tried to shut me out because you knew that if you did, I'd walk away."
"What?" Finally, he speaks, but his voice drops with caution.
"You said you wouldn't shut me out."
"And I didn't."
"But you wanted to give me an out, right?" you remind. "That's what you told me the day in the stables at the cadet camp."
His teeth grit. "I told you—"
"That day, you agreed to give me a second chance, but you hoped I'd get too scared in the forest and run the other way. Except I've seen things and—"
That grit dies instantly. "Wait, seen things?"
"Yes, I've seen pieces, Levi," you admit. "Pieces."
"Of—?"
"Us. Of my life." Your fire dies. "Of our life."
His jaw clenches so hard that his teeth could shatter.
Your shoulders drop, defenseless. Your hand touches the back of your head, trying to feel for where you might have hit it on the ground back then.
"You ran from me in that hospital in Trost when I woke up. You saw I couldn't remember you right away, so you thought..."
A small laugh of relief exits your mouth before you can stop it.
There are so many black spots in your mind's eye, but…
His face paves the way.
Four hearts, staring up at a skyless night; now only two remain.
"Damn it, you really thought I would never remember you when you were my entire life."
Falling.
All you’ve ever done is fall.
On your back, as a child in those fighting rings in the Underground City.
On your side, struggling to learn the inner workings of stolen ODM gear while a rambunctious boy with ash-blonde hair laughs to the sky.
On your front, when two strong arms pulled you on top of him, lips crashed to yours.
Yet Levi always held out his hand and picked you up.
Now his fists are translucent, tight at his sides, as your eyes meet.
“And so you pushed me around in hopes that I'd leave you here," you conclude sadly, "all while you blamed yourself for the rest of your days for my mistake — right?”
It’s as if you’ve confessed you’re a titan in the flesh.
Levi staggers back, the clink of his ODM gear rattling as he moves.
His eyes flutter all over your face, studying, searching—
“What the hell are you saying?” the captain croaks, unlike himself.
He stares, clearly waiting for the final blow, like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hand.
Oluo and Petra are somewhere.
And wherever they are means Gunther and Eld are likely not far behind.
They’ll approach at any moment to regroup with the Captain.
But you need him to understand—
Levi's jaws clenches again; an overwhelming flurry of emotion settling on his tongue.
He looks two seconds away from detonating.
"What did you remember?" his voice cracks, the facade shattering. "Just say it, damn it, what the fuck did you remem—"
“James!”
The panicked voice of Oluo shouts from the sky.
Petra follows not long after, attaching to the base of the tree trunks to softly find a landing on her feet.
The rest of the squad follow suit, eyes wide.
“Whoa, are you alright?” Oluo repeats, rushing forward. “The hell just happened out there?”
“Her gear got caught,” Petra replies with equal urgency. “I saw it when Captain Levi took off after you two.”
“Her gear?!” Oluo yelps.
The two of them rush over while their hands reach out, swiping your emerald cloak up and away.
They duck their attention to the gear to assess the damage.
The ODM canisters don’t look particularly busted, but the wire dangles helplessly without its spike.
You note just how nervous everyone looks.
Because everyone knows the story, you realize deep in your belly.
The story where a member of the Levi Squad fought titans and got her gear stuck, resulting in a catastrophic head injury where her memories were no more.
The one where they nearly lost one of their elite, only to result in that woman becoming a completely blank slate.
Someone that they'll never get back.
Except she's screaming in your head, slamming against your skull.
I'm here! I'm here, don't you see? I'm still here!
Eld and Gunther quickly descend next, their feet pattering with the quickness towards where you stand.
The squad surrounds you with a million questions, checking your head should there be damage.
Petra even places a gentle hand on your heart, but it’s hammering.
Alive.
Levi says nothing, does nothing; his chin ducks to his emerald collar, allowing his squad to have their time.
“You scared the shit out of us,” Gunther admits with a sigh.
“The hell were you thinking?” Eld adds.
You sheepishly shake your head, eyes still attached to Levi. “I-I wasn’t—”
“I had it, James,” Oluo counters, cutting you off. “I had that titan. You didn’t need to go back for me and almost risk your damn life.”
“Hate to say it, but I agree with Oluo,” Petra replies with a soft sigh, before pulling you in for a small hug. Your arms remain lamely at your sides. “You didn't need to prove you were badass to us, alright? We know." She lets go. "How did you cut yourself loose?”
“She didn’t.”
Levi’s voice breaks through, stopping everyone in their tracks.
He turns on a heel away from the squad, head remaining in a bow, and walks in the direction they'd arrived from.
“I caught her.”
You note the changes in expressions on the rest of the squad's faces.
Recognition smooths over their tired lines, like the significance isn’t lost on them.
Suddenly they duck their chins, too, as if ashamed for gossiping.
Only you remain with your head up, eyes square on the captain.
He does not look your way.
“Outing’s over. We’ll just have to break Four Eyes’ heart and tell them we didn’t capture any of those bastards today.”
“But we didn’t even make it halfway through,” Eld starts, turning his boot towards the captain with surprise. “We can go further.”
"Wait, we managed to clear the forest?" you ask without thinking, causing Eld and Oluo to glance your way.
Oluo’s eyebrows slide high to his hairline.
Eld’s narrow to a point.
“It… was,” Eld slowly, carefully, explains, “but the mission you — the one that you — Wait.”
"People still made it to the other side after I fell?" you exhale.
They made it.
The Scouts managed to push to the end of the forest.
The mission wasn't all for nothing.
A flurry of confused relief floods your system, yet the squad looks at you with pure confusion.
“...none of us told her about the forest debrief from last year yet, did we?” Oluo inquires, pointing to Petra. “Hey, did you snitch?”
“Huh? Snitch?!” Petra yelps. “What the hell would I snitch about? It’s not like it's a secret to anyone here what went down.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t make it long enough to see the end of it,” Gunther replies, rubbing his chin between his thumb and index finger. “And we all agreed not to bring up said mission when she woke up until she was cleared by that doctor guy she saved.”
“Doctor?” you blurt under your breath, blinking. "That I...?"
That you saved…
Albeit foggy, you remember the other team that fateful day.
Miro squad. 
There were so many names, so much chaos…
You struggle to remember the finer details, but there was someone named Rini.
An older man — or did he just look weatherworn from war?
Was it the same man from Trost?
“Wait. James.” Petra rounds you, searching your face with budding excitement. “Do you remember the last mission you were on? Is that why you’re—”
“I said the outing’s over.”
Levi's command bites off her question, and Petra falters.
“I already have one shithead disobeying instructions. Is this going to become a trend?”
The squad goes silent, turning to their captain.
“Get the damn horses back,” the captain growls. “We’ll reconvene as a group back at headquarters. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir,” they all respond in unison.
One after the other, they offer a look of condolences to you before ascending to the skies.
Leaving Levi and yourself to remain.
In the back of your mind, you remember the odds.
Forty to eighty.
The screams of terror.
The urgency to fly through the trees.
A formation of horses…
A corner of the puzzle is complete.
Help me.
Why won’t you help me?
“Levi?” you start, and you see his face flinch at your tone. “Can we talk?”
“Not here,” he replies curtly.
“But—”
“I said not here,” he grunts, turning his chin to regard you over his shoulder. “I’m not doing this here.”
When his eyes meet yours, they soften.
Apologetic.
As if he’s teetering on the brink of giving up completely.
“Go back to your quarters,” he urges. “Clear your head. Figure out if…”
Did his voice just crack again?
You can’t help but gravitate towards his orbit, boots gently stepping closer.
“...figure out if you mean it,” he finishes, stronger now. “If you really do remember — any of this. We'll reconvene and debrief back at headquarters, but I told you: I'm not feeding you our memories. If you think you know me, then say it with your whole damn chest and hold nothing back."
His chin drops, his black fringe falling over his eyes.
You can't see what he's thinking, how he's feeling, but the way his voice turns to a whisper breaks your heart.
"I can’t keep up with these false hopes anymore.”
The necklace on your sternum burns.
Although you have a million questions, a thousand apologies, a dozen pleas, and very few certainties, you say one thing in return.
"Yes, sir."
You both stand in silence, awaiting the horses.
He stares at the ground.
You continue staring at him.
I know you.
You're the only certainty I have.
Once the rest of the squad arrives, you mount your horse and keep formation.
The sun bursts free.
There are no more trees clouding your vision.
Ahead there is an expanse of grass, reclaimed by time.
(A new start.)
Levi Squad returns to headquarters without a casualty in tow.
.
173 notes · View notes
sixpennydame · 1 year
Note
For the drabble prompts,
2. “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
Reader/OC or Levi has panic attacks/night terrors and one of them calms down the other after waking up in a cold sweat from a bad dream. Canon or non-canon. Much obliged!
I really wanted to take my time on this one. It’s actually a bonus scene from my multi-chapter fic, The Better Man, but you don’t have to have read it to understand this drabble.
2. Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.
Characters: young adult!Levi x reader (they live in The Underground)
Word count: 405
Content/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, suggestion of abuse/assault (but nothing detailed)
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It always starts the same way: dirty hands of unknown men all over you, grabbing at your neck, your thighs, your torso. Tearing, clawing into your flesh. You try to yell out, but you have no voice, no way to communicate for help. You look over in the corner of your room and see your father and you plead for his help with your eyes. But all he does is watch. It’s then you realize that there’s no one who is going to help you. You’re alone. You silently scream as the men take your body in the most insidious ways.
You wake up to Levi’s hands on your shoulders, shaking you awake as he says your name. Still partially asleep and in a dream state, you start to flail your arms and legs to fight him off.
“Get off me!” you yell, pushing him away.
Then you wake up and you see Levi’s face, his eyes full of concern. Tears are already running down your cheeks as he pulls you in a deep embrace.
“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
It’s been six months since Levi busted into the brothel you’d been sold to and brought you to his place to live. He’d even paid off the debts your deceased father had accrued that put you in that horrible place. Ever since you were children, Levi had said he was going to save you from your father and from this terrible life in The Underground. Even though neither of you have been able to make it above ground yet, this is the most freedom you’ve ever had in your life.
But these dreams, you can’t seem to escape them and they make you feel like a prisoner.
You melt into Levi’s arms, your tears falling down his neck and pooling onto his shirt. He knows not to ask you about it, so he just lets you cry. As you begin to relax, he pushes your hair off your face and wipes the tears off your cheeks.
“Look at me…you’re not in that place anymore, ok? You’ll never have to do anything like that again. I’m here. I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”
In a world where truth and love is only experienced in fairy tales, you look in Levi’s eyes and see both of those things. In his eyes, you’re not broken.
And in his arms, you’re not afraid.
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Final day to send a Drabble Challenge!!
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mangaka-pikushi · 5 months
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Quick sketch for a friend!
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