It'll Pass.
it'll pass.

pairing: levi ackerman x gn!reader summary: a drabble of that fleabag scene but in levi's version wc: 1,826 genre: major angst warnings: fleabag (tv) and aot spoilers obvi a/n: i was in my feelings sorry

“I love you.”
You know it wouldn’t end well.
You told yourself a million times, “Don’t expect. It will lessen the disappointment.” But as you sit there, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, and knees almost touching, with the one you need like water, there are no more expectations to break. It’s done. You’ve said it. You’ve let out those words that prick like thorns at the back of your throat, aching to be said longer than you can admit. Now, it hangs dead in the air, waiting to be caught—to be answered.
From the small distance between you, you can see his steel eyes glisten under the moonlight. You can see the dark lines under his eyes and the creases on his forehead. Life hasn’t been kind to the man you love. It never was to anyone. But if you could change one person’s fate, it would be his. You don’t know the extent of what you would give to lighten the load in his heart. You would give anything to have him smile, to have him laugh, and to have him live, that was your wish.
And yet, you know that by having done this, you’ve burdened his heart more.
His eyes bore into yours, a million words settling into his irises. Just like that, you were back to where it all started.
It started at stolen glances, cheeks heating up whenever his eyes meet yours. You tried to avoid his gaze, pulling yourself out of the trance it would give you. You wanted to get lost in them. But you know that having an eye for the Survey Corps soldier was a stupid idea.
There were things much bigger than the both of you, things that only he could do. Levi Ackerman is humanity’s strongest soldier. One of Commander Erwin’s greatest gambles in the war against the Titans. There was no room for you in it, a normal resident of Sina. You know that the expected fate for you is to accept a marriage from someone who can stay with you as long as you can live inside these walls while relying and waiting on the scouts’ mission to maybe end the suffering of the people in these walls. It’s what was taught to you for years. But as always, you weren’t one to listen.
You couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help but to shop on your own in the markets when you can have servants do it for you. You couldn’t help but to talk to the people there, asking them what new things they could offer you every time you were around. You couldn’t help but try out every new food and beverage you could find.
You couldn’t help but notice the timid and quiet man buying tea every third Sunday of the month. He would be there exactly at the time you first saw him and you would wait to see him, not even talk or be near him. You just want to see his face. He always looks tired. There were creases on his forehead that always seemed to be scrunched. His lips were either turned down into a frown or a straight line. Although he looked very neat with his long-sleeved white button and black slacks, his clothes don't seem to be of noble or great wealth. He doesn’t seem to be a servant or one of the workers from Rose.
He orders the same black tea every Sunday. The same one your father drinks every morning. It was rare and expensive, something about it being grown on a small plot of land protected here in Sina. You’ve tried it once out of curiosity but was not very fond of it. It was too bitter for your liking. But nonetheless, you thought that if the mysterious man had enough to spare for one canister of it a month, he must have enough of an income.
Eventually, he notices your stolen glances and thought you were suspicious. He cornered you in an alley one time on the way to the markets, having expected you to be there already. In fear and fluster that the man was finally in close distance, you sputtered out your apologies and told him the truth that you only found yourself being curious about him. He warned you not to do it again. You could only meekly answer an agreement.
In anticipation for the next time he came, you were fully prepared to offer another apology. Your next interaction would have to be better that time around, you thought as you have already carefully gone about your words and have been holding a canister of the same black tea he prefers. Unfortunately, he didn’t come by the next month. Still, you waited.
The month after that as you wait, it was running a bit late, and when you were convinced that you have officially run the man away from this market, you finally caught sight of the man you have been waiting for. He had the same tired expression on his youthful face, the same haircut that always seemed to be trimmed at the perfect length, and the same grey cold eyes. Except, this time, he wears a military uniform with an insignia you don’t see much on these walls—the wings of freedom.
You froze where you stood, just near the pop-up teashop. You see that someone strides closely behind him, towering over him with his upright posture and blonde hair. Of course, you know who that is. That’s Erwin Smith, the commander of the Survey Corps. People thought him to be the devil commander, ruthless and ambitious. And beside him is the man you’ve been following every month, a member of the military division that gets sent to their deaths every expedition.
But still, you approached them with a smile and introduced yourself. Erwin gives you Levi a glance after, one that you couldn’t interpret the meaning of. At first, you thought that Erwin didn’t particularly enjoy your presence there. But he gave you a smile and even pushed the smaller man in your direction. He even gave you a wink behind his back.
Since then, Levi, a wonderful name for a breathtaking man like him, continued to come back every month.
And here you are now, standing at the edge of a cliff from the pressure of accepting a marriage for convenience versus your feelings for the captain of the Survey Corps.
It was silent. Not even the sound of air whistling or the birds chirping can be heard in the dead of the night. You can only hear the sound of your heart beating. You can hear his heart in sync with his. You can feel his pulse as he closes a hand over yours. Not fast. Not slow. Perfectly balanced. His rough hands held your soft ones, caressing them with his thumb. Fond, caring, and comforting.
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
Carefully, he smiles. A painful one. If you knew that the first time you’d see him give you a smile like this, you would have never asked for it.
After spending a long time with Levi more than his monthly visits to Sina, you’ve come to learn more about him. You were his only friend outside the scouts and if he were to choose who he’s the closest with among them, you know he’d choose Erwin. He highly respects him and he told you how he vowed to follow the great commander to the darkness. And you know fully that what you’re asking of him will collide with Erwin’s decisions. He can’t be with you. He can’t love you.
Gently, two words come out of his mouth. “It’ll pass.”
They were not the three words you longed to hear. But you smiled back, holding back the tears with an accepting smile. He nods, smiling back as if he was convincing himself. It was there that you realized that he was saying it to himself more than to you.
There was another silence. But this time, it no longer holds the weight. And yet, you don’t feel any relief, no burden lifted, and no thorns plucked out of you. You could only feel his hand for comfort and you looked down on it once again, memorizing the veins on his skin as if it will be the last time you look at it. You trace your fingertips over them, blinking away the tears that seemed to fall without your consent. The blurriness in your sight that your tears caused is going against your purpose to capture his hand in your brain. You don’t want to forget him. Ever.
You would rather memorize his face and how he looked knowing one day, you might forget his face. But with his hand and the way he holds yours, you know that both your dreams and nightmares will be plagued by it. You want to see it. You want to remember how it felt to be loved like this—to be loved by him, even if he didn’t say it yet. You know. You always knew.
His forehead is close to yours and you can feel him trying his best not to make them touch, he’s hesitating—pulling away in fear that he might never want to break it. His lips are quivering and he draws them in tightly into a line to halt it.
You don’t know how long you sat there but somehow, Levi was able to pull away, mutter he has to leave, and stand up. He takes a few steps away from you before pausing, back turned on you.
You called his name, the ache in your chest intensifying as it rolled off your tongue.
“I’ll see you next Sunday.”
He turns around, the same pained expression on his face. The corner of his lips twitches up ever so slightly in amusement. Both of you know that things will never be the same again. You will never come to see him in the market and he will probably never come to buy tea personally again. But still, he nods and lets out an unexpected response to your statement.
“…I love you too.” It came out in a whisper but it was loud enough for you to hear. He looked into your eyes for a few more seconds before looking away entirely. Before he turned around, you see a single tear fall from his eye. You watch as he walked away until you could no longer see his form fade into the darkness.
It never passed. Not even as the truth about the Titans and the people outside was uncovered. Not even as you survived all that, somehow. Not even as you held your child from a man that wasn’t him, a gold ring adorning your finger. Not even as you saw him again, wounded, and being wheeled by two children. Not even as your eyes met his cold, gray one.
It never passed.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.
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More Posts from Levisolace
[2] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)
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Chapter 2: Wedding Invitations
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WC: 8,654 Chapter Warnings: angst kinda ^^, reader and levi argue a lot Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do.
story masterlist | prev chapter > next chapter
![[2] Expendable Hearts (Levi X F!Reader)](https://64.media.tumblr.com/67a213dba4e65a0d451ecd695ed9a1e9/415be5a163d26228-25/s500x750/1b914f35af987dead3e5fbd47b6f31263b81f2ba.png)
The corner of his lips twitched, almost forming a smirk but it drops back into a frown in a millisecond enough for you to almost believe you may have hallucinated it.
“I have to kick you out,” he answered smoothly.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his sneering gaze, and tried to wipe your dusted face with your free hand while asking. “Does Hange live here?”
He inhales, exasperated as he leans on the door frame. “Why the fuck would Hange live in my place? Is she homeless?”
You close your eyes for a moment again, trying to calm your excessively beating heart, repeatedly reminding yourself to have patience and just get away from here as soon as possible.
If there is one thing Levi knows to do, it’s to rile you up. You didn’t think they fell in love at first sight, did you? No. You completely annoyed the hell out of him. When you entered the room, you flirted with him because you simply found it astonishing. His ears get so red when you call him cute or profess your crush on him in front of everyone. You, if not Hange, were often the receiver of his deadly glares.
“I don’t fucking know? Maybe she fucking told me she lives here,” you reply, waving your phone in from of his face.
He stares at the device in your hands. A phone from a high-end brand. Vanessa gave it to you as a gift recently. It’s the latest model they had.
“Well, would you look at that? It looks like you have a phone,” he states the obvious, blankly staring at it before your words sink into him, making his brows perk up in curiosity. “Hold on. Did you say Hange texted you?”
You trailed off, tilting your head in confusion. “Uh… yeah?”
Levi goes quiet, then turns to toss the box of powder somewhere inside. He leaves the door open and is quickly facing you again. If you were to be asked, you’d say that a look of hurt flashed on his face. But what do you know? You may not know who he is anymore. A lot can change in a year, much less seven years.
It was beginning to be uncomfortable, the silence that suddenly loomed between the two of you. Deciding enough is enough, you cleared your throat to catch his attention.
“You know what? Maybe she made a mistake. I’ll go. We can just say you kicked me out if you want,” you suggest the last sentence before letting out a painfully awkward fake laugh. You turn on your heels, ready to erase the look of his face in your brain.
As you step forward, fingers wrap around your elbow and before you know it, you are being pulled back to where you stood earlier. You turn your head to Levi with wide eyes, stumbling and losing your balance until another hand catches your hips, steadying you in place.
Your breath gets stuck in your throat when you realize how close your face is to his, mere inches away from each other. His hardened gaze falters, an unreadable one stares into your eyes. From this short distance, the musky and pine-like scent fills your nose—the same smell you used to wake up to every day. His breath smells like the tea he drinks. His face is sharper but they remain soft. Even at this age, his features still look younger than he actually is. Levi has always been beautiful even with a permanent scowl on his face.
One of the fingers still wrapped around your waist twitches and the movement sent you to hypersensitivity. You become too sensitive to how his hand curls on your arm, how the other grips your waist, and how your faces are too close for comfort—it becomes suffocating for reasons you don’t want to disclose to yourself.
You tug yourself free of his hold, turning around and facing him. With a glare, you spat out with furrowed brows. “What the fuck is your problem?”
His response was immediate, knocking you out of your breath.
“Stay.”
One word. One word and your anger dissipates.
If you had decided to tie your hair, you’re sure he’d see the tips of your ear redden. You breathe out a soft but confused response. “What?”
He shifts his gaze to the side, avoiding your eyes. A mannerism he does when he’s shy. “You can come in. Hange’s supposed to come today.”
“Oh.” You peek behind him where you see a glimpse of his personal space. He wants you to enter his home alone with him? What would you even talk about? You don’t doubt it’d be awkward. Wait. He lives alone, right? Not that you should care. But still, if he has a partner, it’d be weird to have your ex-girlfriend in your home.
“It’s fine. I could just wait for Hange in the lobby.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he rolls his eyes. “Just come in.”
“But—,” you try to protest again.
“Hange will drag you up here anyway. It’s a long way down.”
“It’s literally one elevator ride,” you point at the elevator behind you.
Levi sighs, arms crossed in front of his chest again. This time, your eyes drift from the smooth pale skin of his forearms, his biceps, to the chest that they pressed onto, and you notice that his toned muscles are more defined than it was before. It’s not the first thing noticeable about him, but he always had a great physique. He takes care of his body well and is much stronger than he looks. You remember how he could easily tackle men twice his size, that man being your old friend, Erwin. Your gaze on him only passed for a second, careful not to let him notice your stare.
“Fine. Suit yourself.”
Nodding, you turn your back on him again, having already decided to reject his invitation to enter his home. You had even taken a few steps away and best believe you really would have gone to the lobby as you planned. You would’ve, really, if it wasn’t for you remembering the state of your face.
Reluctantly, you spin on your heels. Facing him now with much more distance between you, you swallowed down the humiliation creeping into your face. He’s still standing there, straight-faced and watching you leave from his door frame.
“Levi.”
Saying his name sent your head mildly spinning. It’s a name you were adamant about not thinking about, not seeing, and definitely not speaking. It’s been a long time of suppression that your brain has become hesitant to call for him that it comes out in a wavering voice.
Let’s just leave that on the air for a second. His name. He’s here. In front of you.
“What?” He presses when you hesitate to talk again.
You sigh, shoulder slumping down in shame. “Do you have like… wet wipes or something?”
Levi rolls his eyes and steps aside to give you some space for you to enter his home.
“Just fucking come in.”
Knowing it’s probably the better option, you comply. It’s not like he’d murder you, right? At least, you think so.
When you passed by him as you entered, you mumbled a quick word of gratitude. While he closed the door behind you, you took it upon yourself to remove your heels and put them on the shoe rack by the door without the need for him asking to. He still probably doesn’t appreciate outdoor shoes dirtying his floor. You still like it that way too. It’s just common etiquette, you both agreed to that before when it came up in a conversation.
You notice he’s staring at your shoes on the rack in silence when you stand back up. Instantly, you ask if you made a mistake. “What is it? Are they not supposed to go there or something?”
The question makes him look at you. He shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he muttered and bent down to pull open a drawer from the chest beside the shoe rack.
He pulls out something from it, unwrapped it, and hands it to you. You look down, seeing new gray slide slippers. “Wear it.”
With a nod, you let it land on the floor beneath you. Slipping your feet in, you find that the slippers are very comfortable. They surprisingly fit just right, well, maybe a little larger but it was fine. They don’t seem to be one of those disposable slippers you get at hotels. Is he more of a clean freak now than before that he gives his guests brand-new slippers to walk around when visiting him?
His apartment is decent and obviously expensive. The grand living room greets you after the small hallway, illuminated by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that give you a great view of Paradis’ bustling urban jungle. Also, you don’t know what he needs three different couches for. Wait, is that a freaking massage chair? Holy shit, you need that for your stupid back. How many months of salary from ODM would that be?
“You can put your things on the couch or the coffee table right there,” Levi instructs. You ignore the inkling to ask and tease which couch he’s talking about and gently put down your bag and the box of invitations on the coffee table next to the two couches adjacent to each other.
You can’t help but be curious about his current career and that he’s living such a luxurious life. Granted, Levi had always been living well. But nothing quite like this. The man you knew from your past preferred to not live lavishly.
The interior had a theme of white, black, and brown—mostly white for what you guess is a clean look. True to his character, there was no speck of dust anywhere. Everything is kept neat and clean. It almost seemed like no one was living here.
When you look back at Levi, he’s at the end of a corridor beside what you assume is the dining area, pointing at the first door
“The bathroom’s here. Just wash your filthy face or whatever.”
You roll your eyes, mumbling to yourself how the filth on your face was his doing before giving him a tight-lipped fake smile and entering the door he pointed to.
When you shut the door behind you, you slam your back on the door. You close your eyes and sigh in relief. Fuck. Finally, you’re alone and can’t be seen by the onyx-haired man. What the hell is happening? You’re fucked. He’s obviously mad at you.
It’s been seven years. He couldn’t possibly be that mad, right? Sure. You’re exes. It’s natural to not be on good terms. It’s only right that the two of you act like mature adults, right?
Opening your eyes when you feel a little more calm, you face the mirror. Oh, you looked horrible . You looked like a baker who had too much fun with her flour. Some got to your hair too. Fuck. That’s it. You’re going to kill him.
You washed your face until you were satisfied, a bit upset that your light makeup had to be removed. Admittedly, you were more concerned with the fact that you’re going to face Levi barefaced than the wasted effort you’ve put in for the simple look, no matter how small. Partly because come on, you’re exes. It’s basically a rule (and a somewhat toxic one at that, you admit) to appear better than you’ve seen your ex last to make them see that you’re better off without them. It’s not that you want him to want you again or regret how things ended up between the two of you. You just don’t want to look like you’re not doing well, even to Hange and the others. But more so to him. The darkening bags under your eyes resulted from having not slept enough in months because of handling your new living arrangements and adjusting to your new job. You haven’t been eating much either, often forgetting meals when you’re too busy. The way you look isn’t really on your priority list. It hasn’t been for a long time.
There was a mild skin cleanser on the sink that you hoped he wouldn’t mind you using. Well, he shouldn’t. It’s his fault that you have to wash your face. The surprise reunion with Levi alone was enough to make you insecure in multiple ways. It didn’t have to be worsened by you catching cleaning supplies in the face.
Instead of looking for a spare towel, you used toilet paper to dab your face dry. The moment you felt refreshed enough and figure you’ve taken long enough before your host thinks you're locking yourself in his bathroom to avoid him, you come out and find him sitting on the couch with two cups of tea. One beside your things and the other in his hand in the unique way he does so, fingers holding the rim instead of the handle and using the space between his thumb and index finger to drink.
He glances at you when he hears the door open but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stares back out his glass window. Unsure of what to do next, you decide to sit on the other couch in front of the other tea.
Again, silence wraps around the two of you.
You rub your hands on your jeans, looking around the living room subtly. Not that you were particularly interested in his interior design, it’s just easier to avoid his face even if he’s just staring out the window quietly. It’s so obvious that he’s not even in deep thought. He’s waiting for you to speak first. He’s not gonna be the one to do it. He’s waiting to see how you’ll play this out.
What the fuck do you talk to him about? The weather? His comfortable guest slippers? The impending doom of capitalism and technology? Honestly, anything but the past.
You take a deep breath. Fine. Whatever. Here we go.
“How have you—,” you were interrupted before you could even finish the question.
“I doubt you actually care how I’m doing but I’m good.” He says as he puts down his teacup on the table.
Stunned. Astonished. That’s what you are right now. All that and he still doesn’t spare you a glance. But you’re aware that he’s observing your every move. That’s okay. You can try again. Patience. Kindness. You can see this through by being a civil, respectful citizen.
You cleared your throat.
“You look—,” he finishes the sentence for you this time, having guessed what you were about to say.
“It looks like you’re about to tell me I look good, which is dumb. I don’t need you to tell me that.”
You blink repeatedly.
Wow. He is much more of an asshole now, isn’t he?
You can practically feel your blood starting to boil. This is starting to be fucking ridiculous. When is Hange coming? Is she even coming? Maybe you should text her and ask her why you’re in front of Levi and not her. Or maybe just beg her to get to his apartment at full speed?
“You’re supposed to meet with Hange today, right?”
He finally looks at you. You look at him. And then you nod, preferring to stay quiet.
“Must be important if you went all the way here after seven years for Hange,” he gathered in a sarcastic tone.
If he thinks that, then Hange or Moblit hasn’t told him that you’re back in Paradis even if you didn’t tell her not to. You wonder why that is. Maybe they haven’t had the time? Maybe he hasn’t had the time? Nonetheless, you don’t know how to correct him. But something is telling you that you should.
You rub the back of your neck, head tilting, unsure of what to say but you agree. “Well… I guess?”
The invitations are kind of important, aren’t they? They’re kind of late too. These have to be sent out after this weekend.
“Tch,” he sassed at your unsure response.
And then it was silent again.
In the midst of it, you contemplate if and how you’re going to break the news that you’re in Paradis for work and not solely for meeting Hange. You doubt he even cared about your life update.
Before you can decide in your thoughts, his deep voice breaks the silence.
“So… you’re getting married.” He spread his knees apart to lean forward and rest his elbows on his knees.
Your shoulders tense up. A look of puzzlement crosses your face, unsure if you heard his words correctly. You lean an ear in his direction lightly and raise your voice. “I’m getting what ?”
He raises a brow and gives you a look of contempt as if you’re lying to him. When you continue to give him a bewildered look, he taps the box you brought to the table with four fingers. You look down at the box confused, searching for any clue that leads to his conclusion that you were apparently tying the knot.
Oh.
You ordered it so it was addressed to you.
The box had your name and a description of ‘Wedding Invitations ’ on it. Did Levi think that you were getting married and went all the way here to invite Hange? Your lips part as you nod to yourself, understanding the situation that apparently transpired.
When you look at Levi, he’s still waiting for an answer. You sigh and rub your temples, explaining calmly and slowly. “Levi, those are Hange’s wedding invitations.”
His brows furrow. Now, it’s his turn to be confused. But you don’t wait for him to ask and explain further. “I handled her wedding invitations as a favor when she texted me that there was a problem with it. I’m just bringing them here to deliver it.”
He takes in every word and pauses to think, the information you gave him is not just adding up in his head. He still appears puzzled. “But why you ?”
You shrug and answer quickly while lifting the teacup in front of you to your face. “I knew a way to handle it so I offered.”
You take a sip. It’s green tea. It’s good. You wonder what brand it is but you’re definitely not gonna ask him.
He nods but with a tightness to it, as if he’s holding back from saying something. Another follow question comes out from his lips, “And she knows this, how?”
You understand where he's getting at. He’s easing you into telling him how the hell you’re in contact with his friend after so long. He’s probably curious as to how and when this friendship started and if Hange has been keeping this from him for a while.
“We’ve been texting,” you admit while setting down the cup, seeing no point in denying the truth and acting like you’re going behind his back.
His brows raised for a second, amused. Then, his face returns to his usual stoic ones, but this time with a darkened gaze. You guess that he probably feels somewhat betrayed that his friend kept this little information from him, not that she was entitled to tell him about who she reconnected with. Hange was your friend too so you don’t see what’s so wrong about that.
You stared at his face pointedly and replied with a sharpened tone. “Don’t make that face. It’s barely been a week,” you add, not even waiting for him to ask ‘Since when? ’ because it’s written all over his face.
He stays quiet and avoids your eyes, fixing his gaze to nothing particular by his side. You take this chance to add more to it. “We ran into each other while shopping and exchanged numbers. Is that all you want to know?”
His jaw clenched. You could see his side profile so clearly with how he looked to the side. Your words make him realize something. “…you’re back in town?”
You huff, infuriated that the thought of you being back in Paradis was appalling to him. “For almost a month now. For a job. It’s not permanent yet so don’t go cursing me around already.”
“And here I thought you promised you’d stay far away from me,” he recalled tightly with a smirk on his face.
“Yeah. You’re all about keeping promises, aren’t you?”
You look down at your black top that still holds a bit of evidence from his childish skit by the door. Your fingers pinch the loose fabric by your chest to see the neckline and collar better.
“I am,” he agrees sternly, meeting your eyes.
You scoff, bringing your hands back down on your lap. He sits up and leans back on the couch, chin raised and legs crossed. He was taunting you. He wants to see you riled up. It’s not going to happen. Does he think that you can’t handle him?
The only way you can win his game is to act like the calm and mature grown-up you are. In short, unbothered. It’s not like you did anything wrong except for cutting communication with everyone after graduation. It was what you thought to be the right thing to do. Of course, you feel bad that you hurt them. But if you had to go back in time, you’d do it again.
With fists balling tight on your lap, you taunt back through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. “I didn’t expect you to be like this. How are you still holding a grudge after seven years?”
“How are you still so shamelessly indifferent after seven years?”
He spat every venomous word out and meant it, showing from the way his eyes aggressively sent daggers to your face. The words left a deep frown on his mouth, glaring at you relentlessly.
The pent-up, irritated expression on your face falls down in an instant. Like an attack, those two words are trying to break their way into your carefully curated walls, making you harden up.
Shamelessly indifferent.
How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?
With an impassive face, your soulless eyes bore into his icy ones. You set your lips into a straight line, giving away no expression he could read into.
How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?
His cold glare challenges your devoid expression. Like two hard walls parallel to each other, no one is seeing the other as they truly are unless one breaks down.
How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?
Neither of you will willingly let that happen. You won’t surrender your armor just yet when it has helped you last this long. You know your decisions would lead to this. To his hatred. You were fine with it. You were fine with being the protagonist of both your stories. There are much bigger things than that in this life that you were willing to trade anything for.
How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?
If that’s the case… Why do you feel so freshly wounded?
A door bursts open, startling the two of you. A loud boisterous voice pierces your ears, shouting your name. Your head whips in the direction of the way leading to the front door. You hear it close gently, then there were some thuds and sounds of shoes. From your peripheral, you see Levi slap a palm on his face with a groan.
The footsteps come running in, revealing an excited but disheveled-looking Hange. As she spots you sitting on the couch, she lets out a piercing shriek and jumps up with wavering hands. Her energy is so intensely soaring that an affectionate smile spreads on your face instantly as a response and has greeted her with it.
She runs to you across the floor in her socks and then tackles you into an enormous warm hug. You hear Levi sigh from his seat while he stares at the situation. You’re being squished again, Hange pressed to your side and hanging onto you like a koala.
“Now, Hange. Please don’t hog her all to yourself.”
Your ears perked up at the sound of the deep voice and whip your head in that direction. As you suspected, there’s a grinning tall, blonde, and handsome man standing not far from you. He’s in actual indoor slippers too unlike Hange who just threw off her shoes.
Erwin was always the most, if not the only, mature among the four of you. He just had this aura that overpowers everyone when he walks into a room. Smart, confident, and a born leader. You always looked up to him when you were young.
“Erwin,” you gaped as he strides towards you.
Now standing beside you and Hange (who was still refusing to let you go), he reaches in and pats your head gently. “Hey, Greenie,” he greets you warmly, which you exchange with a genuine smile of delight.
Erwin then proceeds to gently sit in the space beside you. All while smirking at his friend who sat alone on the couch across from the three of you. ”Levi, you look awfully upset,” he teased.
“Hange, explain. Now.” Levi ignores his blonde friend’s attempt to mock him, focusing deadly on the brunette woman clinging to you. You feel Hange lightly shudder at his words. When you tap her arm, you look at her with pleading eyes, indicating you agree with Levi in wanting an explanation for this predicament you don’t doubt she planned.
Pouting, Hange reluctantly releases you from her hold. She stares back at Levi who’s waiting but clearly without much patience. She looks at you who raised your brows, urging her to speak up. She huffs while facing forward again, arms crossed but her mouth quivering in excitement.
“Pft,” she holds back a laugh.
“Hange,” Levi warns in spite.
And then she bursts.
“Okay, fine! I sent her your address instead of mine intentionally.” She throws her hands in the air enthusiastically, amusingly proud of herself. Then she turns to you sheepishly. “In my defense, I didn’t explicitly say it’s my address in the texts.”
Your mouth drops. “What? Yes, you did.”
Hange shakes her head, thoroughly convinced. “No. You said ‘Hange, what’s your address? I’ll have a courier send the invitations to you.’ And then I said ‘No. Just come to this address after work on Saturday and personally give it to me.’ So technically, no, I didn’t. You just assumed it.”
You stare at her, dumbfounded. Beside you, Erwin chuckles and Levi grumbles at her explanation. “Great. Here comes the Harvard graduate.”
After taking a deep breath, you calmly ask. “Okay… but why here?” A valid question, you feel. Why would Hange purposely send you to Levi’s home? Her friend’s ex-girlfriend? With both of you unaware?
Hange grins from ear to ear, wriggling like a worm on her seat. She can’t help herself but stand up to explain in exaggeration, walking back and forth with hand gestures.
“Well my dearest friends, you see, when I saw Greenie for the first time after seven years, coincidentally before my wedding and the same day one of my planned bridesmaids called to tell me they can’t attend the wedding. I knew that it had to be fate. This was the gods aligning the universe for me and my wedding. Unfortunately, she rejected my invitation.”
“Of course, she would, dipshit. Why would you practically invite a stranger to your wedding?” Levi sneers at you. You roll your eyes. Hange ignores the remark from Levi that was meant to insult you and claps her hand loudly to distract you from getting down into a glaring contest.
“As I was saying, she refused my invitation. I was okay with that at first then my big brain was like… ‘It’s probably because of Levi!’ So I thought that we could all have a lovely day together to get over the dramatic reunion and see if we could all be civil before the wedding, you know?” Hange ends with hands on her waist.
“That makes zero sense,” you whisper to yourself while shaking your head.
“All of this is to get her to attend your shitty wedding?” Levi complains.
Hange nods enthusiastically, eyes flitting back and forth from Levi and then to you. “So? What’s our status? Do you guys still hate each other? Wanna kill each other?”
“I definitely want to kill someone. But it’s not her,” Levi’s face hardened, shooting daggers at Hange who didn't even bat an eye.
“Walk it off, Levi. You didn’t answer my question,” Hange brushes his words of murderous attempt at her life.
“I don’t know, Hange. He literally sprayed some window-cleaning solution on my face and threw baking soda on me earlier. Who knows? Maybe he’ll dunk my face on your wedding cake next,” you chime in.
Erwin snorts. Hange gasps. Levi tilts his head back with closed eyes, sighing. Their immediate reaction to your words left a bewildered look on your face.
“He actually did it?!” Hange dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth, gaping at Levi in disbelief. “No fucking way!”
“Wow, Levi. I guess all those practices were worth it, weren’t they?” Even Erwin taunts with an amused grin. Now that catches your attention. He had been practicing throwing you his cleaning supplies? Why would he… unless…?
You turned to the blonde man, perplexed. “He practiced it?”
“No,” Levi is quick to deny, now sitting up straight.
“Yes,” Hange and Erwin answer you at the same time.
Levi doesn’t speak without a sound of distaste leaving his mouth and sending daggers to his two friends. “Don’t flatter yourself. They ask me to do it.”
“Oh, yes we do. Especially when he’s had too much to drink.” Hange says as she finally sits back down beside you.
“Moblit purposefully gets him to a drinking contest just so he can do it,” Erwin says.
“It ends with both of them getting awfully wasted. It’s really funny that the trouble of getting them home is almost worth it,” Hange whispers to you.
“One time, at a party, he started throwing baking soda everywhere like he’s blessing the house with some sort of ritual,” Erwin reminisced and shook his head.
Levi, obviously having enough of his friends’ betrayal and teasing, rolls his eyes and gets up from his seat to leave. “That’s it. I’m not hearing any of this shit.” He turns his back and starts to stride off to his spacious kitchen with his teacup in his hand while Hange snickers beside you, sharing looks of amusement with Erwin.
You’re unaware of how to act. Should you act friendly to Hange and Erwin? Should you leave? You’re not sure of what’s really happening here. Maybe it’d be better if you just leave and apologetically reject Hange’s invite for the last time. Although you’re glad that the two had received you warmly despite how long it’s been and Levi, as annoying as he is, even offered you to freshen up in his home.
How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?
Maybe it’s better if you still keep your distance from them. You’re not implying you’ll ignore or jump to the next city again. It would be good for both you and Levi to not share the same friend group again. You should know your place.
You place a hand on top of Hange’s that was on her lap, letting out a soft sigh before you speak. An apology is due to your old friends. It’s okay. You can do it. Just don’t cry.
“Hange, I really appreciate the invite. Truly. But it’s more than the reason you think. It’s just been so long and I probably don’t know anyone there anymore, you know?” You started explaining with a smile and then moved your head to Erwin and continued.
“And I know that it wasn’t nice, disappearing all those years ago. I’m sorry if that upset you.” You squeeze Hange’s hand while looking at Erwin who now has abandoned his playful attitude just seconds ago. He was listening to you intently. It wasn’t like him to bare his emotions out in the open but unlike Levi’s form of being guarded. Erwin has just always just been like that, keeping his emotions controlled and regulated. And yet, you see a tinge of sadness in his eyes. You know you do owe them some kind of closure. And once you’ve given them that, you’ll be on your way and live your life in Paradis quietly just as you’ve been doing for the past seven years. This time, just a little bit closer to them.
“But the three of you have still been so kind to me now despite that and how long it’s been. So thank you.” You made sure to include Levi knowing he’s listening somewhere in his kitchen. You turn your head to Hange who stayed quiet with her chin down, your hand still in each other’s. Her hand is rough, no doubt from her adventurous personality. Despite that, you appreciate the warmth of her hand. It reminded you of how that same warmth comforted you in the past when you needed it.
“I do agree with Levi, though. It might be a bit weird if I attend your wedding out of nowhere. I’m glad that you want me back in your life. But attending and playing such an important role in your wedding might be too soon for me not to feel bad about it. Don’t worry about me, Hange. I want you to enjoy your day with Moblit,” you whisper the last two sentences to Hange who still hung her head down.
“Ah…” Hange’s deep voice grovels, a tone she only uses when she’s serious. “I really thought that it would work.”
You chuckle, placing your other hand on your intertwined ones. “If Levi was able to do what he apparently always wanted to do with me, then I’d say it went well. For him, at least.”
Hange finally lifts her face, looking defeated. It instantly makes you feel guilty having done that.
“I appreciate you looking out for me. For Levi. But hey, we can still hang out. Erwin, you wanna have my number? Hange has it.”
Erwin nods, smiling genuinely. “I will take you up on that. I might need a lawyer. Who’s better than an attorney from ODM?”
“Wait, you know where I work?”
Erwin scoffs. “It’s me, Greenie. What do you think?”
You let it go with a short laugh. It’s either Hange told him or his smartass somehow knows. Sometimes, you think Erwin should’ve pursued being a detective. Or the President, though that would be quite dangerous, you feel.
“Oi.”
The three of you turn your heads in the direction of Levi’s voice who stood on the threshold of the way to the kitchen. While his side leaning on the wall, he had his arms crossed, staring right into your eyes with the same exasperated expression painted on his face. Once he caught everyone’s attention, he spoke.
“Don’t be dramatic and just go to the wedding.”
“But—“
“It’s just a wedding. You said it yourself. Nobody knows you. It should be easy to go and leave.”
You pause, tilting your chin down to think for yourself. You do want to go but there’s something holding you back. Shame, maybe.
“Unless you’re really uncomfortable with me, which should hardly be the case. Because for me, I really don’t care if you’re there or not. It’s your choice.”
You look at Hange, whose eyes are now beginning to fill with hope but she silently awaits your answer. You look at Levi again, trying to decipher his words and actions.
“You’re sure you’re okay with me being there?” You ask him.
Levi sighs like he’s tired of the question. “I couldn’t care less, Greenie .” And then he turns around again, disappearing back to the kitchen.
Hange doesn’t ask for an answer right away. Easy enough, one question from Erwin about how Hange's day got the atmosphere to shift into a lighter one, shifting from one conversation to another. When Hange was in the middle of babbling about her wedding preparations, Levi came out of the kitchen with a tray of snacks and drinks.
They’re just fruit sandwiches and another batch of tea. Your mouth instantly waters, remembering the fact that all you had for lunch today was the pack of pocky sticks you had in your bag and a mango juice you bought in the office cafeteria. Both of which you ate in the car on the way home. Sue your laziness.
“Thank you so much, househusband Levi!” Hange takes one of the sandwiches in an instance, munching on the soft bread filled with whipped cream and sliced strawberries.
“Whatever. Don’t make a fucking mess.” He sits down and turns on the television for what you guess is background noise. He throws the remote to Erwin who swiftly catches it without a warning.
While Erwin switches through different apps and channels with Levi’s eyes on the television, you take the opportunity to get a sandwich for yourself, carefully holding it between your fingers. While your other hand is under your mouth to avoid being messy, you take a bite and immediately fight to hold back to moan. How is this strawberry so good and sweet?
You practically inhaled the sandwich right after. Though you don’t look at him, you swear that you saw a corner of Levi’s mouth twitch upwards. You’re not sure if that was because of you or the survival reality tv show that Erwin had settled on playing but decided to believe it’s the latter, not wanting to overthink whatever was that.
The next few hours were tolerable enough. The topics, as thankful as you are, are never about you for long, it’s mostly Hange talking your ears off about her work. You told them what you just told Hange about your life. Those being where you work and what you do. You also told them you’d been in Trost for a while before being transferred here. Though nearing the end of your gathering, one conversation led to something you were trying to avoid, you know that it was just a matter of time before they had to know.
Erwin, after offering to drive you home, asked you where you were staying, and when you told them where you didn’t miss their looks of disfavor.
“That crappy apartment by The Underground?” Hange was the first to say something out of concern.
You nod. You understand their disapproval, the place isn’t exactly the safest in the city. It isn’t like you couldn’t afford something better, you just didn’t want to commit to something permanent only to leave again. “Don’t give me that look, Hanj. It’s not that bad.”
“Still, it’s not very safe for you and Marjorie.” Hange insists. You gave her a smile, and though you try not to make it seem sad, the thought of your grandmother still brings upon a tight pang in your chest no matter how long it’s been.
“Marj… she’s not with me… anymore,” you tell them, looking down at the teacup in your hand and explaining in one word. “Leukemia.”
Everyone in the room immediately froze for a few seconds as they looked at you in shock which you hated. Hange’s hands flew to her mouth, stuttering an immediate apology. From your right, Erwin pats your shoulders in consolation. Levi is just staring at you, ever so unreadable.
“It’s fine, uh… it’s been a while since she passed. Don’t worry about it,” you chuckle, a hard attempt to convince them. You weren’t lying, though. It’s really been a while for you to have a breakdown at the thought of it. “And The Underground is not that bad anymore. I’ll be safe.”
If this was seven years ago, you wouldn’t have even considered living in The Underground alone. It’s this neighborhood in Paradis that was infamous for sheltering delinquents, criminals, and runaways. It’s always been a part of the city that never agreed with the ideals of the local government because of its informal settlers who refused to leave. That is why it's often set on fire. Literally. There’s never any proof but it was common knowledge that it's done to make them leave. That is also why the lodging and apartments close to it are the cheapest in the city.
The landlord had done well in selling the one-bedroom apartment to you, not uttering a word about The Underground and only of how big of a catch it was because it’s the cheapest in the city and someone had just recently moved out of it. You knew better before entertaining a visit though, well aware of the consequences and why there were triple locks on the front door. In defense of your decision, the inside of the place wasn’t actually crap, the interior of the apartment is modern and surprisingly clean. There were secure locks on the windows too. It’s really just the outside of the building that is due for a repaint, littered with both vulgar and creative vandalism. You realized that the reason why it has such a run-down appearance was also to keep it safe. There’s hardly anyone that would want to rob what basically looks like it’s falling apart.
To add to that, when you drove past The Underground, it was surprisingly not as chaotic and loud as it was before. You thought that maybe some new mayor actually had a functioning brain and realized that setting fire to the poor population doesn’t really fix anything. So what the hell, you took a bite of the risk and accepted the 6 months lease.
“It is,” Erwin surprisingly agreed with you. “But nevertheless, you are a vulnerable woman living alone. I can help you look for some other cheaper apartment away from it if you want.”
“Thank you, Win,” you genuinely say to him. “But I’ll be fine. It’s just for 6—actually, just 5 months left now. If I get permanent employment at ODM, it will come with an apartment as a benefit, actually.”
“If you say so,” Erwin reluctantly agrees. “But the second you feel unsafe, text me. I would take care of things immediately.”
“I don’t doubt you will,” you granted, thankful. You don’t feel particularly fearful of where you’re staying. You definitely lived in worse places without much choice. Physically wise, you can take care of yourself… you think.
With a deep inhale, you hook your bag in your arm and get up from the couch. “Well, it’s getting a bit late. I should go.”
“No! Don’t go yet,” Hange whined, pouting.
“Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay for dinner?” Erwin stands up as well, ever the gentleman. You really don’t want to intrude or overstay. Besides, the owner of the house didn’t even invite you to stay. It’s easy for you to read the room.
Shaking your head, you look up as you reply to the tall blonde man. “Nah. I gotta go take care of some things tonight, sorry. Next time?” you ask, particularly to everyone despite only conversing with Erwin.
“Absolutely,” Erwin responds. You give him a smile. “Alright. Text me.”
“Hange, I’ll text you my decision about the wedding very soon, okay? Thanks for today.” You say as you give Hange a hug to which she reciprocates lovingly.
“Ugh. I miss you already.” She sighs then leans into your ear. “Sorry about setting you up today,” she apologizes with a snicker. You pat her back in response. When she lets you go, she still has that big grin on her face.
You turn to Levi, giving him a nod out of courtesy. “Levi.”
He nods in return, gaze still heavy on you. He says your name back as a form of goodbye, still seated on the couch cross-legged as you stand in front of him, the low coffee table in between the two of you.
“Thanks for the… tea and snack.” Though sincere, you didn’t mean for it to come out the opposite.
“I’m sure you were,” Levi’s piercing eyes could cut through like a knife. You size him up in a similar regard. He was the attacker and you were the defender in this staring contest and you were the most competitive pair this game has seen, no one eager to back down.
“Levi, why don’t you escort your guest to her car?”
It was Erwin’s question that sliced through the tension, cutting their game short.
Levi scoffs. “Do it yourself.”
”There’s no need for that, Win,” you say almost at the same time.
“Nonsense,” he addresses you and then the man on the couch. “Levi, don’t be a rude host.” Erwin glares at Levi. You almost smile at the interaction. Levi and Erwin had always been an odd pair. The blonde always had a way with the raven-haired boy, always pushing him to a certain extent but it was always for the better. It seems like that dynamic hasn’t changed at all.
“Really, Erwin. I’m gonna be fine. I’ll text you when I get home,” you say lightheartedly as you’re already walking to the door to wear your shoes.
Erwin and Hange followed you, watching as you slipped off the house slippers and wore your heels. You bid the pair one last goodbye before stepping out of the lavish apartment.
Sighing, you begrudgingly walk away from his door as you feel the tension leave you when you were no longer in the same room as them. It was a relief but god was that exhausting.
You missed them though. It felt so… weird. They matured but never changed their personalities. It’s like if seven years ago, someone told you to picture how the trio would be, you would’ve pictured them as they are now. It’s funny, you think, how circumstances and situations can change everything about a person, how one heavy decision leads to a myriad of decisions too, how everything interconnects and falls apart. It’s all so funny.
As you wait for the elevator to rise to Levi’s floor, you hear his door creak open, revealing Levi with a petulant face. You raised a brow but don’t utter a word. Erwin must have made him do it somehow.
He silently waits beside you, letting him do whatever he has to in silence. The elevator dings open and you step inside immediately. You pressed the lobby level as Levi steps in.
It was quiet, only the subtle elevator music fills what was supposed to be an empty silence. Levi doesn’t even look at you, just glaring hard at the closing doors of the elevator with crossed arms. You look at him, shoulders tensed but face unbothered. He obviously did not want to be here with the way his face is scrunched up and his foot was tapping aggressively. It’s not like you wanted him to be here either. You just want to get out of here as soon as possible and away from him.
And of course, just like the heavens heard you, the elevator abruptly halts to a stop with a hard rattle, the lights flickering for two seconds before being stable again. You gasped a little in shock but you stay on your feet and maintained your balance, your hand gripping your bag for emotional support.
Levi, however, immediately holds your arm in response.
You look at him and his hand on you. His eyes were wide in worry and his hold was almost in a form of a tug before he stopped, your arm now raised mid-air. He didn’t look frightened, just cautious and agile. It was almost like it triggered his protective instinct.
When he realized, he immediately lets go as if you were scalding.
Sighing, you walk to the buttons and pressed the emergency button. When the light came on, you spoke into the microphone. “We’re stuck in the elevator with a direct line to the penthouse. Please send assistance.”
Immediately, someone from maintenance or security replies back with an assurance that they’re on it. They proceeded to ask how many are there with you and if everyone is alright. The typical questions at emergencies like this.
“We’re both fine. Your penthouse resident is pissed as hell, though.”
“We apologize, ma’am and sir Levi. We will have this elevator going in no time. Don’t worry.”
The emergency button’s light fades and you sigh, going back to the middle where you stood earlier.
“You don’t seem to be very startled,” Levi spoke up.
You look at him for a second, surprised he’s starting a conversation with you. You don’t have a problem with tight spaces and you’re confident that you won’t die even if you’re basically stuck in a tin can right now. This is a well-sought apartment complex and this is probably an expensive tin can. It won’t come crashing down soon. “Is there a reason I should be?”
He clears his throat and then doesn’t say anything back. He’s back on ignoring you and cursing every corner of the room with his venomous glare. He’s back on his anxious foot tapping again, the sound of his shoes tapping is as annoying as the droplets of water hitting the sink. It’s annoying you more than the godawful elevator music.
“God, can you stop that?” You spat, brows furrowed.
“No,” he denied in an instant.
You roll your eyes. “Piece of shit.”
“Says you,” he mumbled, his foot tapping growing incessantly faster. You know he’s just trying to rile you up more.
“It blows my mind how you’re still this grumpy and insufferable. I assumed age would compensate for the lack of social skills.” You glare at him. “And what was that? You practiced throwing those cleaning supplies? That’s all you could think of to do or say to me after seven years?”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“That’s all you could say? Sorry? After what you’ve done?”
“What have I done, Levi? What have I done that was so wrong?”
“God, you’re so conceited.” He rolls his eyes. “You can’t even make up an excuse for leaving. That’s why you ran like a coward. Now you’re back and all you had to say was ‘sorry’? And not even to me?”
“Why? What else did you expect from me when I appeared at your door, Levi?” You spat with a venomous taunt.
He was left speechless, you assume not knowing what to say or maybe holding back on something. You decided to continue, eyes fixed on the metal doors in front of you.
“I thought about it—what I was going to say to you after all those years. But I know that I wouldn’t have been as bitter as you. It’s been seven years. We broke up before I even left. As a former friend, I was in the wrong for ghosting everyone. As an ex-girlfriend, I have no obligations to you.”
The elevator dinged and suddenly, the whirling sound of the machine was back, and only after a few seconds of silence did the doors open and you immediately stepped out, breathing in the air from the lobby. You were expecting Levi to follow you out but when you turned your head to look back at him, he was still inside the elevator, looking at you with a stare so cold that it will give anyone near frostbite. The corners of his mouth are pointing downwards into a frown directed at you and his arms are laying limply by his sides.
Confused and heavily startled by his expression, you could only watch as the elevator doors closed with him still inside, eyes never leaving yours, and with a look on his face that mirrors the same one when you left him seven years ago.
![[2] Expendable Hearts (Levi X F!Reader)](https://64.media.tumblr.com/67a213dba4e65a0d451ecd695ed9a1e9/415be5a163d26228-25/s500x750/1b914f35af987dead3e5fbd47b6f31263b81f2ba.png)
© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

♡ Expendable Hearts: Masterlist ♡

title: expendable hearts pairing: levi ackerman x ex! afab reader genre: angst, fluff, romantic comedy (i'll try my best), exes to lovers, enemies to lovers, inspired by our beloved summer (kdrama), alternative universe - modern setting, college setting as flashbacks, mutual pining, mc is dumb, levi is dumb, they're both dumb warnings: eventual smut. probably won't use "y/n" very much. specifics and other warnings will be added each part. status: ongoing
Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do.

CHAPTERS
1: windex and baking soda (7.1k words) 2: wedding invitations (8.6k words) 3: ten things i hate about you (7.4k words) 4: earl grey (7.1k words) 5: paradis city (7.1k words) 6: busy nights (6.6k words)
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© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

ೃ⁀➷ welcome to levisolace ! ♡

↠ about azri - she/they, 23, poc (asian), and afab - bisexual ↠ about my writing - this blog is dedicated to my writing, mostly will be aot or levi x reader works. other fandoms include: jjk, alice in borderland (tv), love and deepspace (game) - all my works are 18+ only. minors, do not interact. - i will not write about non-con, incest, and the likes that are heavily triggering but please still be mindful of the tags i will put. but i will probably mostly write angst. - i'm a busy person. i work full-time and is still in uni so pls don't demand updates ! it's ok to ask about it but pls be nice ! :(

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© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.
𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽
➺ Character: Levi Ackerman.
➺ Reader: afab!reader
➺ Words: 8 316
➺ Summary: Levi Ackerman. Duke Ackerman. A mysterious, stern man who never strays from the straight and narrow, whether by choice or because of his hectic schedule, no one knows and no one wants to know, because this social season, they say, he's planning to take a wife. To your best parade ladies, the most coveted bachelor is finally available…
➺ Warning: Misogyny. Women are seen as reproducers. It's not a smut, but it's tendentious.
➺ A/n: I've watched so much Queen Charlotte and Bridgertone that I wanted to write something in that kind of historical universe. Haha… that ties in with my love of historical manhwa. English is not my first language. Sorry for the mistakes.



"Are you ready for the new social season, Ackerman?
Slumped against the comfortable back of the imposing office chair, the principal concerned didn't even bother to look up from his documents. Not out of concentration but to avoid being confronted with the irritating sight of that shit-eating, mocking smile on his friend's lips. His hand, holding a quill, continued to scratch the paper, drowning the sheet under the jet-haired man's beautiful cursive handwriting. He was doing all he could to divert his attention from the noisy, annoying ramblings of this over-talkative individual who doesn't know when to stop talking. The social season was far from his first and he hoped it would be his last. To take a respectable wife and finally be rid of the target that all the carnivorous mothers were staring at behind his back.
"Levi Ackerman. The most coveted bachelor since Duke Smith was taken off the marital market. Smith has found himself a charming little wife who fills him with happiness. And who will you find to warm your cold heart and sour mood? Will you have a sweet little loving wife? Maybe you'll have a carbon copy of yourself, which I wouldn't wish on any of the servants in your homes. Putting up with you alone is enough, so a woman like you…" "Hange, if you've got nothing better to do, get the hell out of my house." "Aw Ackerman, you're so rude! I'm sick to my stomach."
Levi looked up briefly from his documents to shoot a bored glance at the person in front of his desk who was feigning a deep wound in his heart. He snorted in disdain before diving back into his urgent business, all the while continuing to ignore Hange's mocking and playful monologue. He didn't need to be reminded of the social seasons. He still remembered perfectly how many people gathered around him at every ball he had the misfortune to attend. At the time, Erwin Smith was also single, which eased some of the pressure from mothers eager to find a good match for their daughters. But now he was married, forcing Levi to face the demons alone in the elegant clothes of a noblewoman called mother. Worst of all, rumour had it that he was planning to take a wife. It wasn't a lie; he intended to declare his intentions and take the hand of a young woman who would meet his standards, which he was forced to lower in the hope of finding someone. However, this rumour would fuel the ambition of these mothers. He could already see himself in a ballroom, unable to take a single step without being interrupted by one of them. Levi could bet his hand that the person behind the rumour was standing right in front of him.
"Erwin was lucky to find someone who makes his heart beat. If I don't rule out love, it's the last thing that's going to enter into my calculations. I need a duchess. A woman who can host and organise receptions and welcome foreign dignitaries. I need someone who can manage high society and the heritage of our estates while giving birth to my children. She must have the shoulders and spirit to handle the duties of a duchess. She must have the dignity and poise that comes with the title." "You are demanding." Hange sighed, in a melancholy breath. "I have to be. I can't accept just anyone as Duchess and you know that. Erwin was very lucky. One in a million. Who knows if I could be so lucky as to find in the most capable of women the one I would love." "Good. You're so serious about this that I can't not lend you a hand." "Please. I don't need your help which is too often useless and catastrophic. Not to mention shitty." "Trust me! The Queen has already chosen her diamond, the girl who shines above the rest. I happen to know her personally." "Don't say it like it's some revolutionary idea. There was nothing more predictable than being interested in the diamond of the season. A girl who is all too often chosen for her beauty rather than her skills. A factor I have no interest in." "You're depressing Ackerman." Hange complains, her upper body slumped over the paper-free part of the desk.
Levi clicks his tongue against his palate, now having to endure the sighs and complaints of this individual lounging on his wooden desk that is surely worth more than a small estate in the heart of the capital. He makes a mental note to himself to thoroughly clean the wooden surface to remove any germs that Hange might leave on his wonderful desk.
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"Lady [Name]. Miss [Name]. What a pleasure it is to welcome you to our land. I hope British soil suits your tastes." "It is an honour, Your Majesty. We thank you for your hospitality." "Isn't there someone missing? Don't you have two daughters?" Asks the Queen, one eyebrow arched. "My apologies, Your Majesty, my sister could not bear the journey on the ship. She was forced to stay in bed while her illness subsided." You say.
Along with your mother, you bow to Her Majesty the Queen of England. There is no doubt that this woman is of a completely different class to the ladies of the nobility. The Queen is the most noble. The one to whom all eyes naturally turn. You can't help but let your eyes take in the sumptuous details of the lace covering Her Majesty the Queen's dress. A puffed-up dress that breaks with the current trend for empire dresses. Why didn't she follow the current fashion? Wasn't it a silent obligation of society not to step out of line at the risk of being singled out for criticism and harsh words by other nobles? You have abandoned the clothes of your native country to blend in with current British fashion, but you feel a touch of admiration before Her Majesty the Queen. Perhaps you could persuade your mother to let you proudly wear the dresses of your homeland?
"Come, come, come! We have so much to talk about. We'll soon be one big, beautiful family." "I hope so too, Your Majesty." Your mother affirms, with a discreet, unruffled smile.
With that, you follow in the Queen's rapid and ample footsteps. How can she be so comfortable in clothes that seem so uncomfortable? It's probably a question of habit. A few steps behind her, you try to keep up with the rapid pace through the magnificent corridors decorated with gilding and sculptures that you know are worth more than anything the less fortunate could dream of. On the walls hang paintings depicting the royal couple's life together. When they are young, then soon joined by a multitude of toddlers until these children take on the appearance of young adults. A chronological frieze that tells the story of a hidden family history.
There's nothing like that in your family. There's just a register that takes into account the many members of your clan. Only the hard core share the ancestral domain, while the others are invited every year for a week to maintain a certain union between all the members of your clan. And you… you're the chief's goddaughter. Daughter of the chief's sister. After the chief's daughter, you are the most noble thing in your country. The purest. If your cousin is promised to the prince of your kingdom, you… Are you going to join the jewels of the British Empire? That is a perfectly acceptable future. But are you prepared to give up your family? Your country? The life you've built there? To leave to start a new life with a man whose company you're not sure you'd enjoy?
For a moment, this sumptuous palace looks like a cage. Your future cage.
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"Miss [Name], what's your country like? I'm genuinely curious about the different regions." The princess's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. "At the risk of committing an act of treason on your soil, I admit that our landscapes have nothing to envy to those of British soil. I would even go so far as to say that they are splendid. I think you'd like it very much."
The princess lets a soft laugh slip from her lips, which she hastens to hide behind her fan. You squint your eyes in delight. The princess doesn't seem to be offended by this little joke; she seems to be enjoying it. You take a sip of the tea you were served a few minutes ago.
Several days have passed since your arrival. You still haven't met the prince who may become your fiancé, but you won't regret not having met him yet. You dread this moment. If you do meet him, it will all become too real for you. These imaginary chains of commitment will be physically represented by a sumptuous ring on your left ring finger. The very thought makes your stomach boil with palpable discomfort. Fortunately, you've been lucky enough to meet a charming princess your own age. Historia Reiss. A soul so sweet and pure that you could swear you'd want to protect her just so she wouldn't encounter any unpleasantness in her life. You could almost find comfort in her presence should you end up marrying one of the princes.
"The first ball of the season will be held at Lord and Lady Yeager's house. Would you be comfortable? I don't know how different the culture of your country is from here." "Don't worry, your highness. I used to attend quite a few balls in my country, along with my cousins. We never missed an opportunity to socialise. We were an inseparable trio…" "You seem very close to your family." "I grew up with them. I can't conceive of a life without them in my life." "With so many brothers and sisters, I can only understand you. Sometimes they're unbearable but in the end, I wouldn't give them up for anything in the world."
The atmosphere becomes heavy with nostalgia. Memories of numerous family events come back to haunt you and add to the weight on your shoulders. The same dilemma seems to be facing the princess, who is also due to marry in the not too distant future. She too will have to leave her family, perhaps even her homeland, to marry a powerful nobleman from another nation in order to forge ties. Because that's what women are for: to produce heirs and to act as bargaining chips in the political game. Knowing and accepting are two different things. You know your destiny, but can you accept it? Are you even being asked to accept it? No. You are asked to suffer and endure.
The princess coughed in a feeble attempt to lighten the almost ceremonial mood.
"If you wish, I can teach you a few things for your first ball here. I don't doubt your social skills, far from it! But the culture here must still be foreign to you…" "Thank you, Your Highness, it is with pleasure that I accept your kind offer."
A smile curves your lips. The afternoon is spent talking about the little subtleties of the English court, which you find so lacking. Little protocols, little messages coded behind the tilt of your fan. The language of the fan is different from that of your country. She also teaches you the latest rumours so that you don't feel too out of place, even if you don't really know the protagonists portrayed in her rumours. It would seem, however, that this kingdom is particularly fond of such gossip. Time passed at an alarming rate and before you knew it it was time to part. The sun was about to set. You both had to get ready for the dinner that was about to begin.
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The evening of the first ball of the season has finally arrived. As expected, as soon as Duke Ackerman arrived, all the mothers with ambition presented themselves to him, their daughters in tow. He didn't hear any family names, all he heard was the roar of lionesses hungry for prestige or the pecking of hens. He almost cursed Erwin for abandoning him to indulge in his newlywed life. While he was genuinely happy for his friend, Levi couldn't help but curse him in this situation. A duke still single…a real dawn to behold. He excused himself briefly with a shake of his head, ignoring the sighs of disappointment, and extricated himself from the flock of ladies to join Hange, who was standing in the company of Erwin and his young wife.
He almost regretted having come to keep them company when he was forced to listen to Hange's mocking laughter, which seemed to find the Duke's distress satisfying in every way. If looks could kill, Hange would already be six feet under rotting and being eaten by worms. Too bad that's not possible.
"I can't wait to find someone nice so I can get away from all this excitement for good." Levi grumbled, his lips against the rim of his champagne glass. "You talk more than you act. If you keep running away, you won't know any of these girls and you'll end up another season on your own. A real vicious circle." Hange scoffs. "I'm not running away. I'm running away from this savage horde." Retorts the man concerned. "She's not wrong. You'll never find anyone at this rate." Erwin agrees, shaking his head. "Even Smith says so." Hange boasts. "Oh…I always thought you two would end up married. You're always together…" Lady Smith intervenes in a timid voice, unsure whether to say the words or not.
The other three turned to her. Erwin gently shook his head and calmly explained the situation. Hange couldn't help laughing as if she'd just heard the most hilarious joke, while Levi frowned, not holding back the visible disgust he felt at the very idea of having to share his life more than he already did with this individual. A friendly relationship could be tolerated, but more? Ah, God save him from this dark fate!
"My apologies! I always thought…" "Don't worry, my dear." Erwin said to soothe her. "It's common knowledge in the various circles of high society. Your relationship is a trending topic at every turn." Informs Lady Smith, a nervous smile on her lips. "Please don't say another word about it." Begs Levi, who swears a glass of champagne isn't strong enough to hear that kind of story about him. He needs stronger alcohol.
Fortunately for the Duke, the music ends, replaced immediately by the powerful melody of trumpets, a harbinger of the arrival of the one everyone is waiting for: Her Majesty the Queen of England. The big doors open, revealing the royal figure in her sublime gown of thick ivory with a few touches of blue. The guard at the door announced the Queen's arrival in a firm voice. Then other names were called: that of Princess Historia Reiss. Then the Countess [Name] and her daughter.
All bowed to Her Majesty the Queen, before rising to gaze at the two newcomers to the British court: mother and daughter [Name]. Two foreigners whose features stand out from the rest of the nobility. A refined exoticism that is sure to catch the eye of even the most self-righteous duke. Recognising beauty in the unknown is right up his street. But perhaps his gaze lingered a little too long on the young miss descending the stairs, as Hange tapped him on the side of the elbow. A single glance was enough for him to see the mischievous gleam in her eyes.
"Don't think about it, four eyes."
Hange shrugged, before pushing him forward, encouraging him to take a step towards the quartet who had finally set foot on the ballroom floor. Levi stumbled on his feet, managing to catch himself in time before hitting the floor. A movement that didn't seem to go unnoticed, on the contrary. He felt the weight of Her Majesty The Queen's gaze, which had just spotted him in the crowd. He refrains from swearing between his teeth, cursing the day Hange was born. With a perfect bow, he presented himself to Her Majesty, without bothering to smile. No one has ever seen him smile, he is thought to be incapable of it.
"Duke Ackerman, what a pleasure it is to honour us with your presence." The Queen begins. "The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty." "Have you already met our guests, Lady [Name] and Miss [Name]?" "I have not had that honour before today."
The Duke analysed the curve of the Queen's smile, then followed the discreet movement of her eyes towards the young miss in silent command. Levi wrinkled his nose briefly, so as not to break his legendary impassivity and reveal his displeasure at his situation. But perhaps he could have picked a worse partner than a young miss who had just arrived on English soil and who certainly didn't know the latest gossip. He walked around The Queen, his strides guiding him to a respectable distance from the foreign miss, his hand outstretched towards her. His steely eyes gazed into hers, taking in the minute details in her irises. The brilliance of the crystals on the ballroom chandelier was reflected in her eyes, as if a whole galaxy had taken refuge in her.
"Miss [Name], would you do me the honour of a dance?"
꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ
You smooth down the silk of your dress, which covers your body in a beautifully crafted adornment. You feel uncomfortable in this dress, not so much from the corset as from the layers of this empire dress. You weren't sure whether there was too much fabric or not enough. Your breasts, contoured by the corset, bulge out for all to see. Your eyes can't take your eyes off this display of flesh, which now seemed so unseemly just a few seconds before your entrance. A gentle pressure on your arm rouses you from your obvious discomfort. The princess stands beside you in a pleasant attempt to help you overcome the demons of anxiety. You offer her a gentle smile, thanking her for her kindness.
The double doors open to reveal the bright lights coming from the candles, especially the giant chandelier suspended above the couples of motionless dancers, facing you. All this attention is directed at you. Suddenly, all that nervousness evaporates like snow in the sun. The feeling of being the eye-catching jewel takes you back to the wonderful days when you and your two cousins dominated your country's high society. Your body remembers the small, graceful gestures and discreet, charming smiles of a noble lady. Why were you nervous again? You couldn't remember, but the delight of returning to balls and luxury made you feel like a fish in water.
Behind the Queen, you watch the Duke's silhouette approach you. A very handsome man, the orange glow of the candles emphasising the chiselled, severe features of his face. He doesn't stand out for his height, but the way his expensive suit clings to his muscles, the shadows discreetly emphasise the contours of his sculpted body. You hold your breath as he approaches you. Blimey, you've completely forgotten to follow the discussion that's just taken place. Has he caught you looking at him in the most shameful way possible? To your surprise, he invites you to join him in a dance. You slip your hand into his, a pleasant shiver caressing your spine as he traps your hand between his fingers, drawing you onto the dance floor. You feel his second hand slide down your side to rest on your hip, the perfect place to keep from being indecent. His warmth embraces you with a gentle sensation. It's so different to when you're being held by your cousin for a dance, it's different…because you're in the presence of a man and not a family member you grew up with. A breath slips from your lips as you feel his fingers tighten their grip on your hip. That simple touch electrifies your nerves. Your eyes gaze into his, searching for his soul for a brief moment. Perhaps it's simply because he's a man… the first man to hold you. Maybe it's because you can feel the firmness of his muscles under his suit.
The music begins, echoing throughout the room. You dance together, following the silent instructions of his body against yours. Around you other couples join in, but in all honesty you're not really paying attention.
"So…you're the most coveted bachelor of the season?" You ask to start a conversation with your dance partner. "I see you've been made aware of the latest rumours." The Duke resigns himself, his features hardened by the despair of his situation.
You can't help but let a laugh escape you at your dance partner's visible dissatisfaction. It would seem that this is a subject that puts him in an uncomfortable situation.
"The princess seemed well to inform me of the latest intriguing news at court so that I should not find myself out of place." "Do you intend to stay until the end of the season or will you be staying on British soil?" "It's a huge upheaval to change countries for good. But I'm beginning to discover the attractions of the British Empire." You reply, your gaze firmly anchored in his.
He opens his lips briefly, like a fish out of water. Then he turns in on himself, becoming once again the cold, stern duke, inflexible in his expressions if only for the tiny expressions that make him human and not a marble statue.
"The princess is a charming person who never fails to brighten my days. Her ladies-in-waiting, though I don't really know them, seem to me to be perfectly benevolent ladies."
The drawing music threatened to end the song. Soon you will have to part with this man whose surname and title you know only. A beauty like that won't struggle to find a wife before the season is over.
"I want to know you more, Your Grace."
No sooner do these words leave your lips than the music stops. The surprised expression on your dance partner's face reflects your own surprise. Tact has never been your strong point according to your twin sister, and today you have just confirmed what you have denied all your life. Are you really going to…propose getting to know another man? When you may end up betrothed to a prince if the discussions between your mother and the Queen come to an agreement.
꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ
Levi didn't know what to expect when he asked her to dance, or what the queen might be thinking. This damsel had not crossed oceans to come here with the intention of seeing some scenery. Everyone could sense that a royal wedding was approaching. The union between two great and powerful families that would make every nobleman in their homeland tremble. Yet he had to restrain his hand from slipping lower on her hip to feel the curves under her dress that must remain inaccessible to him forever. It wasn't love at first sight, he didn't believe in it and the very concept seemed delirious and implausible. Nevertheless, he recognised the principle of attraction. And the young woman in front of him was one of the few to arouse in him the first shivers of desire. But she was out of reach. She would soon be joining the crown jewels. He was not going to jeopardise this young woman's fine future plans, just as he was not going to ruin the excellent reputation he had built up by staying away from brothels and opera singers looking for stability and finance in the arms of rich men.
The conversation was very casual, nothing interesting, just banal politeness. Despite the tingling in his fingers when his ears were graced by her laughter. He hated the fact that this stupid rumour, although true, was brought to the attention of his dance partner. But unlike the many other suitors, she had no intention of putting a target on his back, as a better partner was presenting herself. She could be a breath of fresh air, if only for a moment. Was it wrong to enjoy this dance? To enjoy this company even for a few minutes? One dance before returning to their respective worlds. Or so he thought, until the words left her lips.
"I want to know you more, Your Grace."
Like a mirror, their surprise was reflected in each other's faces. Those words shouldn't have been spoken, not to a stranger and not to someone you know. Those words imply a lot of things, especially with a woman who was perhaps going to join the crown. He shouldn't accept, he couldn't accept. Perhaps his answer, his refusal, was visible in his eyes, for he needed no words to make her more embarrassed than she already was. Under his hands, he could feel the heat radiating from this body that wanted to bend over and disappear six feet under to save herself the embarrassment. He could feel the movement of her muscles, he could feel her holding back from rushing away and abandoning him on the dance floor, causing a scandal. She held back to avoid causing trouble for him as much as for herself. In the shame of rejection, she knew how to behave and curb her urges to save face. A quality… if it could be described that way.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I beg you to forget what just happened."
She bowed in a curtsy, signalling the end of their dance. He returned the courtesy. And before he knew it, he was with his friends, a glass in his hand to quench his thirst. His gaze lost in the sparkling bubbles of the alcoholic beverage.
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Why did fate seem so set against you? The ball was only a day old and yet you bumped into the man you swore you'd never see again for the sake of your pride. He also seemed taken aback, your eyes unable to tear themselves away from each other. You look away and concentrate on the young woman standing beside Lord Ackerman. She seems to be beaming with delight, ready to pounce on you for questioning or…examination. You feel the need to cover yourself with more than a dress and a thin shawl against the breeze.
"Oh, look at the sun; already so low in the sky. I'll be off, Ackerman! It's every gentleman's duty to keep such a charming damsel as the young miss company!"
Left in utter bewilderment, you bat your eyelashes at the spectacle, unsure of how to deal with the hasty departure of the brown-haired woman already far away from you both. Silently, you arch an eyebrow at Levi, as if to confirm that what has just happened really did happen.
"You…you're in the queen's gardens." "I am." Levi retorts.
Silence.
This is so uncomfortable, even for you. You decide to take your leave. A meticulously and swiftly executed curtsy, then you make your way back to the palace and hide under the covers of your bed to forget this second shame. You need to regain your composure. Shame doesn't kill, you've faced worse than this in your country! A man a little more handsome than the average is not going to make you forget your means. As you try to convince yourself mentally, you are slow to notice the footsteps at your back, until a hand wraps around your wrist. A gasp escapes your lips, and your body quickly turns towards the person who dares to touch you. You come face to face with the Duke. So close. Almost as close as when you were dancing. You blink, fighting against the honour you would lose if you were caught alone this close to a man, or the desire to feel that hand slide up your arm and lodge itself in the hollow of your neck.
"Your Grace…" You whisper. "I beg you to let me go. This is unseemly." You manage to stay firm on your feet, pushing deep into your mind that strange feeling that runs through you every time this man lays a finger on you. "I apologise. No matter how many times I called you, you didn't seem to be able to hear me."
With that, he releases your wrist, taking several steps away from you. A perfectly respectable distance. Your wrist still seemed to be burning from the Duke's touch. An exquisite warmth. Before you can sink any deeper into your thoughts, his voice brings you back to reality.
"I am also on my way to the palace. Allow me to accompany you."
Even now you're wondering what went through your head to accept the proposal of a man you can neither know nor approach for the sake of your mother's discussions. No… It was only a courtesy, there was no implication. It's ridiculous to worry so much about a man you only met a day ago. It's because he's so beautiful that you lose your nerve! It's only attraction, nothing more can come from this beauty. The journey continues in silence. Honestly, you don't know whether you prefer silence or a conversation filled with banality to fill the void. On reflection, however, the Duke seems to revel in the quiet, preferring words when absolutely necessary. In this respect, he reminds you of your twin sister, who thrives on silence and useful conversation. A smile lights up your face, shy and as light as the cherry blossoms that fall from their tree when the season ends.
"Was that Miss Zoe?" You ask, annoyed at more silence. "Your ability to learn all the latest society gossip both fascinates and frightens me. you'll make a fine lady of British society." Levi sighed, admitting defeat at your ability to inform yourself on such matters just days after arriving on the soil of the Kingdom of England. "You flatter me, Your Grace. But I am not. Your person intrigues every person in this company. Almost every rumour revolves around you." "I intrigue you too, it would seem." "Don't give yourself too much credit, Your Grace." You reply with a hint of mischief in your voice. Teasing your interlocutor. "You are the prologue to a great book called High Society in the British Empire." "Oh, but it's when you read the prologue that you decide to continue reading a book. Are you going to continue reading this book, miss?" He snarls, his steely eyes darting into yours in defiance. "I don't know. I haven't read the whole prologue to be able to decide." You reply with a satisfied smile.
Your smile widens as you hear the Duke chuckle. If you didn't listen carefully, it would be easy to miss his laughter. A soft warmth spreads through your chest, satisfied that for a moment you have been able to break the cold, unruffled expression. Once outside the glass doors leading to one of the palace's too many halls, your companion stops in his tracks. This is it. The time has come for you to part. There's no need to exchange any more words, just a glance at each other and you already know that you mustn't stay together any longer than that. So you do what your mind tells you rather than the tug of disappointment of interrupting a beautiful discussion. You go your separate ways until fate allows you to see each other again.
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The weeks went by. Invitations to the ball, invitations to tea, days spent with Princess Historia and sometimes, exceptionally, you have the honour of sharing a conversation with the Queen. You never got even a glimpse of the prince who might become part of your future. Nothing was official yet, but wasn't it the least you could do to come and see one of the women who was going to share his life? The Prince shone through his absence from the palace, but rumours spread quickly, even among a young miss who was still new to British society. You've heard the rumours: the Prince favours an opera singer. He flaunts her publicly with no regard for his honour. Historia was trying to protect you, but at the same time she refused to hide her brother's imperfections from you, especially if you were to marry him. This is how you discovered that he had fathered two little bastards whom he was trying to have recognised by his mother so that they could become princes with a right of succession.
Disgusting.
Was this the future fate that awaited you? Waiting for your twin sister? Sharing a life with a man who shows the world his mistress? Unable to do so discreetly like most other nobles.
That should be your main concern, yet you can't help thinking of the duke who shares a few conversations with you when you find yourselves at the same ball. You always shared a dance under your mother's watchful eye. She said nothing, did nothing to prevent you from getting involved with other men. Perhaps she thought, as you did, that it was just a friendly relationship that was developing? Perhaps you were the only one to convince yourself of this lie when you wanted to feel the Duke's hands on your hips. Were you alone in feeling that desire boiling in your chest? Yet here you were, once again, sharing a fleeting moment of happiness that was to end as soon as the ball was over. On the balcony of the manor house, surrounded by a few souls looking for refreshment, you were chatting with the Duke. Lost in your admiration of the thin smile that lit up the Duke's stern face, at this moment he looked divinely peaceful.
"Come now, Your Grace, these are not noble words to say in public, and not in front of a woman either." You murmur, stifling your mirth behind your fan. "Are you the best person to speak of noble words? I remember the last ball…" He replies, teasing you. "Your Grace, you promised never to speak of that again!" You react immediately, urging him with a wave of your hand to lower the volume of his voice in the hope that no one will hear him. "I didn't…I simply mentioned the last ball. Where have I sinned?" "You are impertinent." "Oh, Miss [Name], impertinence is a sin."
You roll your eyes as your lips make contact with your glass of champagne, taking light sips to avoid repeating the same mistakes you made at the previous ball. Even now you regret drinking a little too quickly with so little food in your stomach, the result wasn't bad enough to damage your reputation in the eyes of society but… The Duke witnessed a lot of…freedom on your part.
"Your Grace." A woman's voice breaks the comfortable silence that has just settled.
You both turn towards the woman who has come forward with three daughters on her arms. Ah… A mother has just spotted him, causing the other mothers to come to him with that simple word. You offer a compassionate smile mixed with a touch of mockery as you leave him in the hungry hands of the mothers and daughters. Swallowing the bitter taste of frustration at the very idea that a woman will have the honour of becoming Lady Ackerman. The wife of such a good and kind man… while you…
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When you return to the quarters you have been given for the time of your stay here, your mother is standing on the sofa in the bedroom. She closes the book and puts it down again in a terribly slow gesture. You lick your lips, suddenly nervous about what she might be telling you. There was always that imperturbable smile on your mother's face, but you knew her better than anyone. The slight wrinkle of her nose could only mean one thing: she wasn't satisfied with something. Did the discussions between her and Her Majesty The Queen go badly? You can only imagine the worst.
You take your place at your mother's side, your hands gripping hers in an attempt to comfort her or yourself. You're not sure. The impatience was going to kill you, yet she continued to remain silent. She seemed almost about to give up on telling you.
"Mother, what's the matter?" "[Your name]…I must say I should be pleased, yet I can't seem to rejoice."
You swallow your saliva with difficulty. Your fingers tighten around your mother's hands. Her fingers caress the backs of your hands in a circular motion, a gentle massage to try and soothe your raw nerves. But it brings no comfort.
"They agree to the marriage…" It wasn't a question. You let the phrase leave your lips in a silent breath. "Yes. They accept the union between our two families." "I see…" You fail to express more than those two words. "They did not specify the name. If a man caught your eye…" "No, no one caught my eye, I would marry the prince." "Are you sure, my dear child?" "Quite sure." "You still have a few weeks to think about it."
Your mother places a kiss on your forehead, leaving you alone in your room to consider the implications further. It's no longer just about you and your selfish desires. It's about the future of your family.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
"Miss [Name], it is an honour to meet you." "The pleasure is mine, your royal highness."
Those words stick in your throat, barely holding back the bitterness of disgust as the prince's lips brush the back of your hand. Lips that have whispered words of love to another. That have kissed the lips of another. And unlike other men, he never hid the fact that he had a mistress. Why do women have to be pure and chaste until they get married, while men do unspeakable things to 'enjoy' their youth before they tie the noose around their own necks? Why does she have to put up with the shame of a future husband who is incapable of controlling himself? Why does she have to put up with the way the prince looks at her?
For the family.
For your family, you will smile politely at the Prince, get to know him and pretend not to be repulsed by his touch. You will turn a blind eye to his actions and accept that he defiles your body with his sinful touch. For the sake of your family. For the sake of your twin sister, you will endure and accept this marriage. You know that your sister is in no state to put up with such a situation for years to come. But are you?
That tea to get to know you was as dull and miserable as the Prince's personality. He didn't want this marriage either, and he showed it shamelessly by hinting at his relationship with this opera singer. You couldn't dislike this woman. She is looking to survive, a prince is an excellent match and a protection against the harshness of everyday life for the less fortunate. You hated the prince. He is the one who initiated this relationship and who brings shame on Her Majesty The Queen and the entire royal family.
But for the sake of your family, you will turn a blind eye to this deplorable moment. You will smile at your mother's questions about your compatibility with the Prince.
"You are as beautiful as they say. Had I known sooner, I want you to know that I would have hastened from my royal duties to come and meet you." "You flatter me your royal highness. But I would be sad if you had to hasten your duties as prince to come and keep me company." You reply in the kindest tone you can muster. "You are right, after all, we could well spend the rest of our lives together."
A shiver of horror runs down your spine. Spend your life with him… for eternity. An infinitely long time. A life away from your land and your family to start one with this individual who is supposed to embody the best that the kingdom of England has to offer. But here again, you force a smile onto your face and offer a shy laugh like a sweet young damsel too modest to imagine making a life with a prince.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
How many days since this woman had approached him? She had expressed a desire to get to know him, she had persisted in talking to him despite her situation, and little by little she had dug into the abrupt façade he had built for himself as duke. And here she was, categorically refusing to stand in front of him or give him the slightest glance as she held her prince's hand and let him slide his hand lower than he should during a dance. He had always known how this story would end: badly. Despite all the warnings and dangers that his conversations with her continued to entail, Levi had found himself enjoying her company. Those moments of laughter when she momentarily forgot all about propriety. Those moments when the stars twinkled in her pupils and always fascinated him. Those moments of peace when even the most unhelpful discussions became distractions for him, even though he hates talking in vain.
This woman had forced her way into his life, only to leave as quickly as she had entered. He was angry with her. He blamed himself for having let her do it when he knew full well that a foreigner would not cross the oceans without the intention of marrying a prince.
Yet the sight of her unhappy eyes, of her thin, peaceful smile that can't deceive him… Levi hates having to be a mere witness to her fatal fate. A splendid woman with a mind and heart of gold married to a pathetic excuse for a prince. He hates how his chest boils with dull anger at the sight of this extraordinary woman trapped in invisible chains pulled by adults to gain power. For the sake of these two great families, she will sacrifice herself and accept a miserable marriage. A condemnation to torture for eternity.
But what business is it of the Duke's? None at all. He shouldn't interfere. He should be content to continue his search for a future duchess. Oh… But had he even begun his search? He didn't have the slightest recollection of having really been looking for anyone during this entire social season. For a moment, the face of that terribly annoying woman appeared in his mind. It was her again. Always her. Always [First name] [Last name].
He needed air. Immediately.
The wind hits his face as he sinks into the depths of his hosts' garden. Luckily for him, he's a man, so he's able to walk freely without his honour being called into question. And even if it wasn't, at the moment, he couldn't give a damn about his honour. His rational mind is fighting with his heart, which has decided to awaken a conscience of its own.
It's always that woman's fault.
If only she hadn't come into his life, everything would have been resolved by now. He'd already have a fiancée. He would have settled into a comfortable life far removed from the problems of being a single duke.
A creak drew him out of his thoughts. Someone was in the garden with him. Who would go this far into the gloom if it wasn't another man who was also trying to get away from greedy mothers? No… It wasn't another man, his breath catching in his throat as he laid eyes on the female figure who was the target of his internal battle.
"Miss [Name], are you unconscious? You mustn't be here alone, you're in big trouble." He tries to whisper despite his desire to scold her for such inconsiderate conduct. She was lucky to run into him and no one else, but no other noble soul should see them at the risk of causing a huge scandal.
Yet the harsh, reproving words he was about to say to her disappeared like snow in the sun. His eyes went wide as he witnessed the wet marks on the reddened cheeks of the young woman, who nevertheless had only a smile on her lips, true or false. She is crying. Alone. In the half-light of a garden. Breathing hieratically as if she has just escaped from something… or someone.
"Your Grace. Le…Levi."
A shiver caressed his body as his first name slipped from the miss’s moist lips. A name barely louder than a whisper, yet he could still hear it echoing in his mind. The sensation far surpassed his wildest thoughts. He didn't react until it was too late, when she let herself run straight into his arms. Buried against the hollow of his collarbone, she sobbed her pain, hoping for comfort. He could only guess. What was he supposed to do? Should he embrace her and risk being seen to sully the impeccable reputation of a future princess? Should he push her away and force her to go discreetly to a safer place where she would no longer fear anything? His hands clenched into a fist, he forced himself to stand still. He chose neither of the two options open to him. He couldn't go any further, just as he didn't have the strength to push her away.
"Miss [Name]. You shouldn't do that. It's dangerous." "I don't care!" "…You will soon be joining the crown jewels. I believe that soon your engagement will be announced. You must not risk ruining your future." "I have no future with such a man! You know that…you must have heard the rumours."
Who hasn't? Everyone had heard them. The prince had done everything he could to make sure the whole kingdom knew about his mistress and the two bastards he had fathered with her. He knew deep down that she would not have a bright future. But he also knew that this current situation, even if it didn't affect her, would inevitably lead her to a much more shameful and painful end than marrying an adulterous prince. At least she would have the luxury and comfort of a peaceful and secure life.
"Stand aside." He orders as firmly as he can. "Then do it." She provokes him. He knows she is trying to make a point. He orders her to step aside to perform a task he cannot. A frown bars the Duke's inexpressive face. "Miss…"
Only a whisper leaves the Duke's lips as he tilts his head to watch the miss against him embrace him as if her life depended on it. He can feel her breasts dancing against his, the layers of clothing separating them doing nothing to soften the sweet sensation of her breasts against his torso. His gaze wanders over the curve of her breasts, bulging from the corset. Enticing. Inviting. Terribly…irresistible.
"I have no future without you, Levi."
His name again. Again her bloody words to seduce him. To make him stray from the straight and narrow path he'd set for himself. He shouldn't destroy his whole life for one woman. He shouldn't…
Yet he surrendered to a kiss. He revels in the surprised moan of the woman who holds his heart in the palm of her hands. He savours with appetite and delight the faint contractions of her muscles against him, an honest and sincere body enjoying the heated kiss. He's going to engulf her. He feels he is capable of ravishing her essence and soul with this kiss, because he wants everything she has to offer. He wants to be able to caress the radiance she embodies with his fingertips.
꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ
His lips glide down your neck, covering every inch of accessible skin with light, velvety kisses. These simple little touches electrify your raw nerves. Your hands grasp his shoulders, in the faint hope of supporting you as your legs buckle under your own weight. You feel his kisses linger on your sweet spot, a moan slips from your lips but you can't hold it in. The petticoats of your dress lift as the Duke's hands roam over your bare thighs to find your crotch clad in fabric so thin he can feel the moisture seeping through. You collapse under the weight of the new sensations of ecstasy. Pleasure seeps into every pore of your body.
"L-Levi."
His name has become an unholy prayer. A sacred mantra that keeps your mind from slipping into the depths of this new ecstasy. His fingers encircle this sensitive little bud, caressing you through the fabric, actively working to introduce you to a new world. His lips cover yours in an instant, silencing your unholy moans from echoing too loudly in the darkness of the garden.
"[First name]…you are the bane of my existence. You are my dearest sin."
Never mind if you get caught…right now, only the two of you matter.
blipped: before the snap (preview)

title: blipped: before the snap pairing: brother’s best friend!yoongi x female reader genre: major angst !!, fluff, brother’s best friend au, unrequited love, set in the marvel cinematic universe (mcu), slow burn?, implied age gap, heavy themes, the blip is kinda fucked up if u think abt it, brother!namjoon, bestfriend!taehyung warnings: manipulative and abusive mom, family issues, y/n has a careless one night stand, no smut for this part yet, this part is a bit boring i'm really sorry. word count: 19k (bruh,,) teaser word count: 695
At the age of 21, you confessed your feelings to your brother’s best friend, Yoongi, which he rejected. One day later, Thanos snapped, turning fifty percent of the world population to dust, leaving the other half lost, confused, and mourning–including you. Five years later, Bruce Banner snapped everyone back to life, including Yoongi, who doesn’t really know you anymore.
a/n before i wrote it: it’s okay to read this if you aren’t into the marvel movies. i just think that the concept of the blip is a really interesting (very traumatic and sad) topic for civilians. imagine the adjustment of your loved ones disappearing and then they just come back. a/n after i wrote it: holy shit i thought this was a fun idea but this is just pure devastation writing about the blip is no fun at all. so i'm not really happy with this one but it's looooong overdue so fck it i'll just post it and get it over with.
release date: October 30, 2022 playlist: blipped.
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Silence filled the air for a few minutes. It’s always like this with Yoongi. Silence, comfort, and safety. It was never quiet with you. Not in your life. But whenever Yoongi come into it, it became quiet. He has made you feel at peace. He has made you feel warm.
The warmth he offered sometimes hurt, you admit. But it was not his fault. You are greedy. You want more of the warmth than what he can offer. But you would take this hurt everyday than go back to the chaos and noise that you have known before him. And tonight, you feel you can allow yourself to be more greedy.
“Do I look pretty tonight?” The words come out of your mouth before you even think. The beating heart in your chest seemed to want to run away from your brain with how fast it went.
“What?” Yoongi undoubtedly found the question unusual as you have never asked him questions like this. You weren’t one to worry about your appearance. They know that you’re definitely insecure about a myriad of things but you refrain from letting people know about it. Indulging the people you care about your problems is just not you.
“I’m asking you if you think I’m attractive.” You repeat, cheeks blushing and eyes set in the other direction. Where you’re getting your confidence right now, you’re not sure where.
“Tsk.” He cocks his head and began to remove his jacket. “You are attractive.”
“No.” Your hands are now by your stomach, fiddling and playing together. “I’m asking if you think I’m attractive.”
There was a pause in the air for a few seconds. It seemed like he was thinking. “Come here.”
When your eyes lift up, you find him offering his jacket to you. He was holding it by its shoulder part, the back facing him and ready for you to slide your arms into the empty sleeves. A black long sleeve shirt was left on him, complementing his growing ebony hair that was reaching the back of his neck. He was yet to get a haircut and you’re thankful for that.
“My arms are gonna die, get in.” He pleads and you comply. You’re disappointed he doesn’t answer the question but you decide not to press into it further due to sudden embarrassment.
You step in and turned around, sliding your right arm first and then your left. You fix the jacket on you as you look straight ahead the empty sidewalk. This was his favorite one. The black one adorned with white details of dragons on the chest and the sleeves.
“Put your hand in the right pocket.” He instructs and you did. You feel something box-like and fish it out of the garment.
It was a rectangular black velvet box not bigger than your palm. “Wha–”
“It’s your present.” He interrupts your confused reaction.
Inside the box was a gold necklace with a pendant not bigger than half an inch. It resembled a butterfly. The wings were carved by horizontal lines but was connected to four tiny diamonds on each wing’s inner part.
“Is this real?” You ask, eyes squinting at the necklace now in your hand.
“Are you saying I’m cheap? Of course, it is. I had my friend from work get it. That’s where I stopped by before going in.” He answers and takes the necklace from you from the back.
Before you knew it, his arms were in your peripheral vision, ready to put the necklace on you. He clasps it around your neck and you feel the cold pendant on your hand, admiring it.
Cold hands turn you around by the shoulders, making you face him.
“You look beautiful.”
And he smiles. His hands are still on your shoulders, literally making him an arm length from you. The smile on his face is the cutest you have ever seen. It’s toothless and his cheeks more fluffier than ever. The way his eyes sparkled competed with the street lights and the present stars the night sky above the two of you.
He looked so beautiful.
You’re so fucked.
You’re irrevocably in love with Min Yoongi.

© wolfvmin. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. thank you.