Is It Gonna Be Hange's Wedding Next Chapter??

is it gonna be hange's wedding next chapter?? 😩💗💓

Not yet. But it will be Hange’s Bachelorette Party and more! 🫶

[4] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 4: Earl Grey

WC: 7,120 Chapter Warnings: angst again ^^ (they need to communicate), also unedited 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. Note: At least it didn't take a year this time?

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The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow across your small apartment. You sat on the couch, Earl nestled beside you, his sleek black fur shimmering in the sunlight that streamed through the window. A bowl of Earl's favorite tuna-flavored kibble rested between them, and you carefully scooped a handful into his waiting dish.

"Here you go, Earl," you murmured, voice soft and soothing. Earl's green eyes gleamed with anticipation as he watched the kibble tumble into the bowl. With a gentle nudge of his head, he began to nibble contentedly.

You smiled, your fingers absently stroking Earl's fur as she watched him eat. It was moments like these that you cherished — quiet mornings filled with the simple pleasure of caring for your companion.

The kitchen clock ticked steadily on the wall, reminding you of the peaceful passage of time. It was Sunday, a day she reserved for leisure and relaxation. Outside, the neighborhood was bathed in the golden light of morning, with the distant sound of cars honking and people shouting. Despite the chaos that the neighborhood offered, it should be a peaceful day… if only you aren’t aware of a certain raven-haired man on the way to your apartment. 

"You're going to have a good day today, aren't you, Earl?" you murmured, your voice tinged with affection. Earl looked up at her, his green eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief, as if he understood every word. “That man I used to tell you about, he’s coming.” 

After finishing his breakfast, Earl stretched lazily, arching his back and then padding over to you. He rubbed against your leg, purring loudly, before settling down at your feet. You chuckled softly, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. "You're such a charmer," you whispered.

Together, they basked in the tranquil morning, you sipping you coffee as Earl curled up beside you. The sunlight danced across the room, casting playful shadows on the walls. 

When the clock struck nine, you were agitatedly waiting for Levi to arrive. He hasn’t texted or called to follow up or confirm he was even coming, making you doubt if he was even aware of it. You’ve pondered just asking Hange for the address, but when you texted her, she assured you that Levi was coming. 

You were aware that the appointment isn’t until the end hour but you were biting your nails, your nerves acting up all of a sudden. Should you dress up? Was it alright that you were just wearing jeans and a tight fitting top? For some reason, you feel like you should dress up. Hell, you even put on more makeup than your usual corporate look.

“Earl, do you think he’s coming?” 

The cat purred, jumping to your side on the couch. You run your thumb on his head, petting him softly. Just then, your phone pinged with a notification. A two-word text from an unknown number.

Come down. 

It’s no mistake that it’s Levi. You could almost hear his commanding and aloof tone through the pixels. Rushing, you take one last look in the mirror, you pat your hair and smile at yourself. But just like being dumped with cold water, your smile drops as you realize your action and your hand flies up to slap your cheek lightly. 

What the hell is wrong with you? This is not a date or even a friendly get together.

You make sure everything in your apartment is in check before grabbing your coat. You bid your pet farewell and hurried down and out of your apartment complex. 

Like it was on cue, the moment you stepped on the pavement, you heard the low but powerful hum of an engine approaching. A sleek black Audi glides into view. The car stops smoothly in front of you and you look around, a few people outside staring at the car with an odd expression on their face. 

You don’t move. Instead, you take a step back. You don’t even know if this is Levi. The windows are tinted and you don’t know his plate number or car model. 

Before you can pull up your phone to ask Levi, the car window rolls down, revealing the man himself. 

“Get in,” he says curtly, his expression composed as ever. 

You open the door and slide into the passenger seat, immediately noticing the immaculate interior. The leather seats are impeccably clean, and the subtle scent of expensive cologne fills the air. You wouldn’t expect less from Levi. He glances at you briefly before shifting the car into gear. 

Although you want to look at him, you avoid doing that and avert your gaze beyond the car itself and to your surroundings. The people in your neighborhood still watched the vehicle even as Levi drove away. They don’t seem to be in awe of the car. Somehow, they looked wary… maybe even afraid? You found this strange but brush it away. Maybe it’s just weird seeing a different social class driving along The Underground. Maybe you were just reading into it too much. 

Levi is silent the whole ride. He navigates the streets with precision, every turn and lane change executed flawlessly. The car’s performance seems like a natural extension of Levi’s own skills and discipline.

As you reach your destination, Levi parks the car with the same precision he’s shown throughout the drive. He looks at you, his eyes sharp yet calm. You stare back. He doesn’t look like he’s gonna say anything so you open your mouth to speak.

“Don’t,” he beats you to it. “If you’re going to say something about what happened in the elevator. Just don’t.”

You were taken aback and you remember his face when you left. Guilt consumes you once again but you don’t let it show on your face. 

“I wasn’t going to,” you mumbled. “I was gonna say that you could leave me here. I know Hange probably forced you to come. I think I can find my way back from here.”

“Tch,” he responds with his usual expression. 

He gets out of the car without a word for you to follow and yet you do so anyway. You gave him a choice to leave but he doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere. You wondered if it’s also his day off. What could his job be? Maybe an office job or managing the restaurant? Could Kuchel’s still be up and running? You hope it is. Although you want to visit Levi’s mother, you’re not sure if she would welcome you like before. 

The wedding boutique’s interior is just as sophisticated as its exterior. Soft lighting illuminates racks of exquisite dresses, each piece more stunning than the last. The air is filled with the subtle scent of fresh flowers, adding to the refined atmosphere.

A sales assistant approaches, eyes shifting from you to Levi. “Good morning, ma’am and sir. Looking for a wedding dress?” 

You and Levi take an awkward glance at each other before he clears his throat. “No. We’re here for the ten o’clock appointment. The refitting?” He states simply. 

The sales assistant nods enthusiastically, apologizing for her mistake. “Ah, yes! For Ms. Zoe’s bridesmaid. Please wait here.” 

She ushered you both to a waiting area. You sit side by side on the couch. There are racks of wedding dresses around you and on mannequins. You take your time to admire them while Levi scrolls through his phone. 

You’re happy for Hange that she’s settling down. She looked really happy with Moblit and he seemed utterly in love with her as well. Although her personality hasn’t changed, there seemed to be some maturity around her that you weren’t familiar with. 

At the moment, marriage isn’t something that you can see yourself in. But god, the dresses are so pretty. You don’t really get to wear gowns like that. 

For a moment, you think about it, maybe as a result of you haven’t eaten breakfast. If a ring adorned your finger, what wedding dress would you like best? You think you’d like something with a petticoat, something that would make you feel like a princess. Your eyes caught one that you adored. It’s on a mannequin. You could picture yourself wearing it. In all honesty, this is the first time you’ve thought about weddings in years. And you do see the irony of doing that with your ex-boyfriend sitting beside you. 

Your trail of thoughts were cut off when the sales assistant came out from the room she went into. “Miss, we’re ready for you here. Your boyfriend can accompany you inside.” She points to the room with a gesture of her palms laid outwards. 

“Not her boyfriend,” Levi nonchalantly reacts and the disgust in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You give the girl an awkward smile. He wasn’t wrong and yet you can’t help but feel offended at the way he reacted so quickly as if he found the thought repulsive. 

“He’ll stay here. Or leave… if he wants to.” You give him a glance to which he scoffed at. The sales assistant awkwardly laughs, seemingly noticing the tension in the room. 

“Ah, I’m sorry again for assuming. Please forgive me. Do you need any refreshments as you wait here, sir?” She asks Levi while you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

“No, thank you.” Levi stands up from his seat and you could see the sales assistant’s eyes wilter for a moment at his rejection. God, he’s rude. 

“I’ll be coming inside as well,” he continues, shocking you. 

“What? You don’t have to do that,” you whisper to his side. 

He doesn’t take no for an answer, heading inside first and brushing past you. You look up at the ceiling, praying nothings above to give you enough patience for this time.

You stood in front of the mirror, tugging the waist of the dress. It was a tube top, which you don’t often wear. Sleeves accompany your arms most of the time and right now? They feel naked. Despite that, the dress is nice. The fabric hugged you in all the right places. But your nerves were more due to the fact that Levi was sitting just a few feet away, casually scrolling through his phone. You hate to admit that until now, he still makes you nervous.

Levi hadn’t even looked up when she stepped out of the dressing room. He was sitting straight up in the plush chair, legs crossed, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. His dark hair flopped slightly over his forehead, and his posture was so relaxed it bordered on dismissive. And you were right, he is scrolling and typing on his phone like his mind is entirely somewhere else.

“Oh, it’s perfect. Magnifique!” The tailor clasped his hands, catching Levi’s attention. 

He looks up and drags his eyes up and down your form. It took all of you not to show your nervousness at his reaction. And yet, like a child waiting, you look at the people in the room with a smile.

“How’s it look?” you asked, your voice trying to sound casual, but the weight of the situation made it come out more forced than you intended.

Levi doesn’t take his eyes off you as you asked, just for a moment, then back at his phone. “Looks fine,” he muttered, tapping at the screen.

Your smile faltered. You turned back to the mirror, adjusting the tube in the hope of distracting yourself from the pang of disappointment in her chest. You weren’t sure why you expected him to be more... invested. He was here as a favor to Hange, your mutual friend. Not to you. 

“Is something wrong, madame?” The tailor asked.

Your eyes widened as your eyes shifted to the reflection of the tailor in the mirror and you shook your head. “Oh! Nothing, no. It’s just… I’m not really used to wearing tube top dresses. Don’t my arms look kind of awkward?” 

“Nonsense, madame. You look beautiful!” The joyful tailor said flamboyantly. 

You purse your lips, looking at your reflection again. This was all so sudden and you kinda wished you had more time to prepare. It’s been a while since you dressed up like this. It’s like seeing yourself in a whole different light. After focusing on your career and all, you guess you’ve neglected your appearance. 

The tailor noticed your silence. “But if you’re uncomfortable, we can add straps or alter it to your liking. It’s no big deal.”

“Oh, please don’t. You don’t have to do that,” you tell her. “It’s perfect.” The thought of imposing more will only burden you and make you more uncomfortable. Anyway, you’ll only be wearing it for a day. 

The tailor nods. “So this measurement is good, then.”

“Yes, I think I’m done here,” you said after a beat, your voice quieter now.

As you stepped back into the dressing room to change, you could hear him tapping away on his phone again, already checked out of the moment. You took a deep breath. You sighed quietly, fiddling with your hair as you stared at your reflection. You weren’t sure why you felt disappointed at his reaction. It was like he found it repulsive to even look at you. It made you wonder… does he still find you attractive? You hated that it bothered you this much. 

It took you a while to change, carefully taking the dress off without misplacing the pins and all. When you emerged from the dressing room, Levi was nowhere to be found. It only made you feel worse. But at least your stomach was no longer in knots. It always felt that way when he was in sight. 

You approached the sales assistant who was also in the room, obligated to give her an apology for how Levi reacted. She smiles when you reach her and tells you that the tailor began to work on the dress and had stepped out.

“Hey, I just wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. He’s rude but he’s not always like that,” you tell her but you know it’s half a lie. Levi doesn’t really do well with strangers, especially if he’s in a bad mood. You guessed he hasn’t really at all changed. There’s still that introvert inside him. Or maybe you just trigger it with your presence. 

The sales assistant gives you a reassuring smile, a genuine one that you differentiated from her usual customer service one. “It’s fine, ma’am. I experienced worse…” 

Her last words trail before she paused for a while, stopping herself as if she wanted to say something else. You tilt your head in curiosity. “What is it?”

“Nothing ma’am. It’s just… I thought you were a couple because of how he was looking at you when you weren’t looking,” she replied shyly, a hand scratching the back of her neck.

Your smile drops as you hear what she had to say, that fluttering feeling in your stomach that had gone dormant in years was alive once again. 

“What?” you mutter, feeling your face heat up. 

“I’m sorry. I think I overstepped once again, ma’am.”

“You’re not, don’t worry about it,” you assure her. You point at the door with your thumb. “Is he still outside?”

“He stepped out. But his car is still outside so I don’t think he left, ma’am.” 

The sales assistant redirects you back to the waiting area. As she does, you take your phone out of your bag and pull out your messaging app to text the same number who called you earlier. 

Where did you go?

Had something urgent. My secretary will drive you.

As if on cue, the front door’s bell dings, indicating it had just been open and boy probably in his early twenties walks in. He has a buzz cut and a shining glimmer in his eyes. He wears a polo shirt and slacks. 

“O-Oh, you’re done, miss?” He says as his eyes land on you. Your mouth parts, unsure why this stranger is addressing you. He says your name as a question and you nod in confusion.

“Ah! Pardon me. My name is Connie. I’m Mr. Levi’s personal secretary. He asked me to fetch and drive you. He was needed there.” 

Secretary? Not only does he have an Audi, he has an assistant running errands for him on a Sunday? And how could he just leave without telling you? 

You smiled at Connie. Although you don’t find the stranger suspicious, it’s still a bit much to get in the car with him. It’s more of you thinking you’d be imposing. He could be doing better things. 

“You don’t need to do that, Connie. I can get home by myself.”

Connie’s eyes widened and he brought his hands up frantically waving. “No, no, no. I have specific orders from Sir Levi. I also have breakfast for you ready in the car.” 

That caught you off guard. Breakfast? He got you breakfast? 

“Levi asked you to get me breakfast?” 

“Yes, ma’am. He was very specific with what to get.”

“What?”

“Oh crap,” he mutters to himself as if it wasn’t information that he should’ve disclosed to you. “Can we go to the car now, ma’am?” 

In a trance of thoughts, you nod aimlessly and follow the boy outside. He guides you to the car and even opens the door for you. He sits you on the backseat. Connie enters the car to the driver’s seat. 

“How long have you been working for Levi, Connie?”

Striking up a conversation seemed like a good idea instead of sitting in silence and so you did just that. As you speak, Connie hands you a paper bag that rested from where you sat earlier in the morning, making you mumble a quick thank you as you accepted it. 

“I’ve been working with Mr. Ackerman for years,” he said proudly, grinning.

“Years? He must really like you then,” you said, amused and chuckling.

“I really hope he does, ma’am. It was tough, if you know what I mean?” He gives you a mischievous look through the rearview mirror. “Don’t tell him this but I used to cry in the comfort room in the first month that I worked for him.” 

A three-second silence in the car and he immediately takes back what he said. “Shit. Overshared. Sorry.”

You huffed and let out an amused chuckle that turned into laughter. Connie laughs back, bringing up a hand to scratch the back of his head. He did that twice already, you gathered by now that it’s a mannerism. 

“I can see why he does, you know, why he likes you,” you shared. “He needs people like you,” you added. 

Levi keeps people around his life when he likes them. Erwin keeps him in check. Hange pulls him out of his shell. And you? What was your purpose in his life? What did you have to offer him back when you had him? 

Your eyes drift to the paper bag beside you. Peeking through it, you see a green drink and pastry. Matcha and Blueberry muffin. Your heart swells and you have to close your lids to stop the overwhelming emotions that threaten to come out. The smell is purely nostalgia. 

The quiet hum of fluorescent lights was the only sound that punctuated the silence of the library as you huddled over her textbooks, your brow furrowed in concentration. The dusty scent of old paper and leather bound you in a cocoon of academia, the world beyond the heavy oak doors fading into insignificance.

In the middle of you losing yourself in a particular chapter of your reading, a soft but familiar deep voice broke through the stillness. “You’ve been here all morning?” 

You looked up to see Levi standing there, arms crossed and giving you a concerned look. 

He slipped into the chair across from you, his presence is warm and comforting, a disruption to your heavy mind and the coldness of the place. 

“Yeah, I’m almost finished with this reading,” you whisper to him. 

“Have you eaten, at least?” He asked, pulling out his laptop.

“Yeah,” you replied back, nonchalant and obviously lying. You know he doesn’t like it when you skip breakfast and always argues when you don’t. You were never really big on breakfast, you never felt the need for it. You don't like the feeling of being full in the morning. However, Levi lived a life with a cook for a mother, so having breakfast was a must in his vocabulary. Most of your life was spent hustling. Being fast. Mornings were made up of getting ready, having half a cup of coffee, and making your way to school early in the morning. 

“You’re lying,” he states the obvious with disappointment in his voice.

“It’s almost 10. It’s just two hours before lunch time anyway,” you shrug. 

“That’s bullshit,” he replied, shaking his head.

Erwin and Hange came by as he said it, following Levi like the trio that they are. 

“Can you lovebirds not argue in the library?” Erwin whispered as the two of them sat down. 

Levi slides out of his chair quietly while turning down his laptop screen. 

“Get up,” he demanded straight at you. You look up at him, confused and a bit annoyed. You were almost done with the reading. 

“I’m almost done,” you refused, burying your face back on the paper. 

Levi sighed audibly, the kind of sigh that meant he wasn’t going to drop it anytime soon. You could feel his eyes on you, unwavering and expectant. The weight of his gaze was enough to break your concentration on the reading. It was like a silent battle, one you knew you wouldn’t win, not when it came to Levi and his insistence on taking care of you in his own stubborn way.

“Get up,” he repeated, voice firmer this time. He wasn’t budging, and you knew he’d stand there as long as it took for you to listen.

You glanced up at him, your expression caught between exasperation and defeat. He wasn’t about to let this go, and as much as you wanted to finish your chapter, you could already feel the familiar pull of his unspoken concern. Levi’s brand of care was persistent, never showy, but impossible to ignore.

Hange leaned over the table, grinning mischievously, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Better do what he says, or we’re all going to hear about it for the rest of the day.”

“Come on, just humor him,” Erwin added with a slight smirk, though he kept his voice low in the quiet library.

Levi didn’t wait for your reply this time. With a swift motion, he closed your book gently but decisively, tucking it under his arm. His other hand reached out, hovering near you, but not touching—an offering, rather than a demand. He wasn’t going to drag you out, but his patience was running thin.

“Let’s go,” he said, more quietly now, his tone softening just a little. “Five minutes. We’ll grab something, and you can finish your reading after.”

You wanted to protest, but the look in his eyes—steady, unrelenting—told you it was a lost cause. It wasn’t really about the food. It was about him needing to make sure you were okay, even when you didn’t think it mattered. 

With a resigned sigh, you stood up, brushing off the nonexistent dust on your jeans. “Fine,” you muttered, though the fight had gone out of your voice.

Levi gave a small nod of approval, turning toward the door without a word. You followed, casting one last glance at the table and the chapter you had been so close to finishing. Hange gave you a teasing wink as you passed, and Erwin, ever the composed one, simply smiled knowingly.

As the two of you stepped out into the crisp morning air, the library’s warmth replaced by the gentle chill, Levi’s pace slowed just enough for you to fall in step beside him. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. The silence between you was comfortable, like slipping into something familiar, something safe. Despite his earlier gruffness, Levi’s presence was calming, grounding. 

After a few minutes of walking, he broke the silence. “There’s a café around the corner. You’ll like it. They’ve got good tea.”

“Not coffee?” you teased lightly, trying to lift the mood.

“Figured tea would go easier on you,” he replied, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His lips twitched, almost like he was trying to hide a smile.

You couldn’t help but smile back, a small one, but genuine. Levi always had this way of knowing what you needed, even when you didn’t ask. He was stubborn, but his quiet care ran deeper than words could ever express.

As you walked together, the tension from the morning dissolved, leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t just from the sun filtering through the trees. It was the kind of warmth that only Levi brought with him—steady, comforting, and constant, even when you didn’t realize you needed it.

You took a moment to breathe, the cool air outside replaced by the comforting warmth of the café. The stack of readings and the stress from earlier seemed to slip away, replaced by the calm of the moment. When Levi returned, he set a cup of matcha in front of you and a plate with two blueberry muffins.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were just grabbing something quick.”

He slid into the chair across from you, his own cup of black tea in hand. “You need more than just tea. Eat.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his insistence but reached for a muffin anyway. The soft texture and burst of blueberry sweetness were enough to remind you just how hungry you actually were. You took a bite, and Levi watched you, sipping his tea silently, but his expression was lighter now, less tense.

“Better?” he asked, though it was less of a question and more of a check-in, like he needed to hear you confirm it.

“Better,” you admitted, taking another bite.

He nodded once, satisfied, and turned his attention to his tea. The steam rose from his cup, and he closed his eyes briefly as he took a slow sip, savoring the warmth. You watched him for a moment, appreciating how he could find calm in the simplest things—like the taste of tea or the quiet atmosphere of a small café.

“So, you’ve got me here, eating muffins,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence. “What’s the plan? Gonna keep babysitting me, or can I finish my reading after this?”

Levi smirked, setting his cup down. “You can finish your reading after this. Just didn’t want you passing out in the middle of it.” His tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of concern behind his words, subtle but there.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t pass out.”

“Right,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “And you’ve never done that before?”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly what he was referring to. That one time during finals week… but that was different. You’d been exhausted from back-to-back exams. Still, Levi wasn’t wrong. You had a habit of pushing yourself too hard.

“Okay, okay, point taken,” you conceded, taking a sip of your matcha. “Thanks, by the way. For this.”

Levi gave a small shrug, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “No need to thank me. Just don’t make it a habit.”

You smiled at that, though a part of you was still processing the strange dynamic between you two. Levi was always there when it mattered, even when things were complicated between you. He wasn’t the type to make grand gestures, but he showed up in these small, quiet ways—making sure you ate, pulling you out of your own head, grounding you when you didn’t even realize you needed it.

You nodded, taking another bite of your muffin, content to sit in comfortable silence as you both worked. Occasionally, Levi’s eyes would flicker up from his screen to check on you, a small gesture you pretended not to notice.

As the morning stretched into midday, the café buzzed quietly around you, but in this little corner by the window, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist. The warmth of the matcha, the sweetness of the blueberry muffins, and Levi’s steady presence beside you made everything feel lighter, less daunting.

Since then, it became a routine for the two of you. Blueberry muffins and matcha. The perfect way to start your day with your boyfriend, Levi. 

In your apartment, you sat at the table, cradling a warm cup of matcha between your hands, the aroma of the freshly baked blueberry muffins filling the air. It was something familiar, something comforting. You absentmindedly pulled off a piece of the muffin, the tart sweetness of the blueberries mingling with the warmth of the soft pastry, and let it linger on your tongue. It was a flavor that always brought you back to him, to Levi.

For a brief moment, you missed the way it was—if the distance between you two wasn’t so carefully maintained. You wondered what it would feel like to feel his warmth again. But you pushed the thought aside. Whatever this was, for now, it was enough. And for once, you let yourself enjoy it.

The stillness of the apartment, the absence of his voice or the low, comforting rumble of him sipping tea across from you—these were the things that haunted the corners of your mind when you least expected it. 

You sipped the matcha slowly, closing your eyes for a moment, letting its earthy flavor settle in your chest. You could almost hear him scolding you, telling you to eat something more substantial, to stop skipping meals. His voice was still so clear in your head, even though he wouldn’t do that anymore. You smiled faintly at the thought, more out of habit than anything else.

The muffin in front of you sat half-eaten, but you weren’t really hungry. Not in the way Levi always worried about. You picked at it absentmindedly, your mind drifting back to those mornings in the café, where everything felt like it was on pause—like whatever was broken between you two didn’t matter in that quiet space. You’d sit there, stealing glances at each other, filling the air with comfortable silence, pretending for a little while that nothing had changed.

But everything had. 

You took another sip of your drink, eyes drifting toward the window. The city outside was bustling, indifferent to the quiet memories you clung to. Life moved forward, as it always did. It was more of a soft ache, the kind that settled in the background, always there but not overwhelming. You’d made peace with the fact that it had ended, but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss the way things had been—how easy it was to just be around him, how he knew you better than most people, even in the smallest ways. 

Earl’s soft purr pulls you out of your thoughts for a moment and you watch as he jumps from the other chair to your lap. You pet his head and chuckle a little.

“Earl Grey, you were named after his eyes, you know?” 

And then after the longest time, you let yourself drop a tear for him. Then came another. And another. 

The day went by pretty quickly. It was late when the knock at your door came, breaking the peaceful stillness of your apartment. You were curled up on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through a book you had already read twice. Earl, your cat, was nestled on your lap, purring softly as he kneaded into your blanket. You weren’t expecting anyone, but a small part of you, maybe even hopeful, already knew who it was. 

You stood up, setting the book aside and carefully placing Earl on the couch, his displeased meow following you as you made your way to the door. When you opened it, there was Levi, standing in the dim light of the hallway, hands in his pockets, looking as stoic and nonchalant as ever.

“You forgot this,” he said, holding up your handkerchief—the one you had carelessly left in the passenger seat of his car earlier that day. It was checkered pink with your name at the corner, one of the few your grandmother had embroidered herself for you. 

You stared at the handkerchief for a moment, surprised he’d come all the way back just for that. “You didn’t have to come all this way, Levi,” you said, though you couldn’t hide the soft gratitude in your voice.

He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Figured you’d want it back.” 

His eyes flickered past you, into the warm light of your apartment, where Earl was now perched on the back of the couch, eyeing Levi with a curious but lazy gaze.

Levi noticed the cat immediately, his expression softening just a fraction. “Didn’t know you had a cat,” he remarked, his voice low as he took a step inside, uninvited but not unwelcome. He quietly removes his shoes and puts them beside your outdoor shoes. Confused but accepting, you close your door and approach the two.

“Yeah, Earl,” you replied, following his gaze to the fluffy black cat now making his way down from the couch, padding silently toward Levi like he was sizing him up. 

Earl stopped a few feet from Levi, sitting down elegantly and staring up at him, his green eyes narrowing as if judging whether or not this stranger was worth his attention. Levi, to your surprise, crouched down slightly, meeting the cat’s gaze without blinking. It was such a Levi thing to do—silent, direct, and somehow commanding without even trying.

“Earl, huh?” Levi muttered. “He’s got a lot of attitude for a cat.”

You chuckled softly, watching as Earl sniffed at Levi’s shoes before giving a satisfied flick of his tail and brushing against Levi’s legs. You didn’t expect Earl to warm up so quickly, but there he was, already purring as Levi reached out to scratch behind his ears.

“Guess he likes you,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. “He doesn’t do that with most people.”

Levi glanced up at you, one eyebrow raised slightly. “Smart cat,” he said, standing back up. “Knows who to trust.”

The comment hung in the air for a moment, lingering with a weight neither of you wanted to address. You weren’t sure how to respond, so instead, you bent down and scooped Earl up, holding him close to your chest as his purring grew louder.

Levi handed you the handkerchief, his fingers brushing yours briefly as you took it from him. “Thanks,” you murmured, your voice softer now.

“Yeah, no problem.” He shifted on his feet, glancing around the apartment briefly, like he was trying to decide whether or not to stay longer.

“I apologize for leaving abruptly earlier,” he pauses for a while before continuing. “I had something urgent.”

“As you and your secretary told me,” you answer. You weren’t really holding a grudge about that. You don’t know why he came all this way to tell you that. “Thank you for the breakfast, by the way.” 

He gave a small nod, his face unreadable as always, but there was something in his eyes—something soft and unspoken. 

“Have you eaten dinner?” 

For a brief second, the two of you stood there in the living room, the quiet of the apartment wrapping around you both. Earl wiggled in your arms, clearly done with the moment, and you set him back down, watching as he padded off toward his bed near the window.

“I… haven’t.” 

“Do you want me to cook something?” It was a simple offer, but it felt heavy between you. Levi blinked, like the question caught him off guard, though he masked it quickly.

“To pay for the breakfast,” you add quickly with an awkward smile. 

“Yeah,” he said after a pause, his voice steady. “I could stay.”

You felt a strange wave of relief, mixed with nervousness. It wasn’t like you hadn’t shared meals with him before, but this felt different now. 

“Well, I wasn’t planning anything fancy,” you said, moving toward the kitchen, feeling a bit unsure of yourself. “But I could make us something quick. Pasta okay?”

Levi leaned against the counter, watching you as you opened the fridge. “Pasta’s fine,” he replied.

He didn’t respond, but you caught the subtle twitch of his lips. It felt almost normal—like slipping back into an old routine without realizing it.

As you started boiling water and prepping ingredients, Levi moved around the small kitchen, grabbing plates and silverware, his movements as efficient and familiar as ever. Neither of you spoke much, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was filled with the soft clattering of utensils and the rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables.

His attention is briefly on Earl, who had taken to watching Levi’s every move with mild curiosity. “Your cat’s a stalker.”

You chuckled, tossing some garlic into the pan. “He’s just making sure you’re not a threat.”

“You said he liked me,” Levi muttered again, though you could tell he didn’t mind Earl’s presence at all. In fact, it seemed like Levi was actually enjoying the quiet company of the little observer.

As you cooked, the kitchen filled with the comforting scent of garlic and olive oil, the sizzle of the pan a soothing backdrop. Levi set the table quietly, his movements almost instinctive, like he’d done this a hundred times before. The two of you worked in sync, no need for instructions or small talk, just moving around each other as if nothing had changed.

When the pasta was done, you brought the pot over to the table, serving two generous portions. Levi settled into the chair across from you, picking up his fork and twirling the pasta around it. The first bite was met with a small nod of approval from him.

“Still the same,” he said, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if he was talking about the cooking or the way you fit so naturally into this space together.

You smiled, taking a bite yourself. “I had a good teacher,” you say, thinking about the raven-haired woman who Levi holds so dearly in his heart. You miss her in these kinds of moments, you wondered how she felt about you now. 

“How’s Kuchel?” 

“The same,” he answers shortly. “Everything in this city has changed except for her.”

You wondered what he meant by that. But in the sake of keeping up the small talk, you say the first words that pop up in your mind. 

“You don’t look like you changed at all, either.”

You really didn’t mean it in a bad way. But it seemed to have triggered something in your meal companion. His jaw clenches before chewing faster. Your heart races when you notice it upset him.

“And you haven’t either,” he responds, a bitter malice in his tone.

“I don’t mean it like that,” you try to save the peace that enveloped you two a minute ago. 

He doesn’t say anything else and you don’t either, afraid you’d say anything bad to upset him enough to leave with his meal unfinished. You don’t want that. In fact, you didn’t want him to leave. But you don’t want to admit that to yourself either. 

The meal continued in a comfortable silence after, broken occasionally by the sound of Earl jumping down from the windowsill to investigate Levi’s shoes or the clinking of silverware against plates. There was something surreal about the moment—sharing a simple meal in your apartment, after everything that had happened, after the years of space between you. 

Levi finished his plate first, as always, but instead of standing up to leave, he leaned back in his chair, watching as you took another bite, his gaze soft but unreadable.

“Thanks for dinner,” he said, his voice low but genuine. You nod in response. 

For a moment, the air felt thick with all the things you hadn’t said to each other—the unspoken words, the history that lingered between you, and the quiet understanding that neither of you had been able to let go of entirely.

“Yeah,” you replied, setting your fork down and meeting his eyes.

For a moment, the air felt thick with all the things you hadn’t said to each other—the unspoken words, the history that lingered between you, and the quiet understanding that neither of you had been able to let go of entirely.

Levi broke the silence first, his voice quieter than before. “I should go.”

He shifted on his feet, ready to leave. 

“Yeah, it’s getting late,” you agree, looking at the wall clock. It’s almost past nine. 

You followed as he walked through your apartment. You watched how he put on his shoes and brushed his clothes straight. You open the door for him, heart racing as you stare at him quietly. For a brief second, the two of you stood there in the doorway, the quiet of the apartment wrapping around you both.

Levi took a step back, his eyes still lingering on you for a moment longer. “Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice low but carrying a quiet sincerity that you hadn’t expected.

“I will,” you replied, managing a small smile. “And Levi?”

He paused, looking at you expectantly.

“Thanks again. For today. And for coming by.”

He gave a small nod, his face unreadable as always, but there was something in his eyes—something soft and unspoken. “See you around,” he said, before turning and walking back down the hallway.

You watched him go, the door slowly closing behind him. Earl returned to your side, nudging your leg before jumping back onto the couch. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the warmth of the apartment suddenly feeling a little emptier without Levi in it.

You settled back on the couch, Earl curling up beside you again, his purring filling the silence. You reached for the handkerchief in your pajama short’s pocket. The handkerchief in your hand, a small, simple thing, but somehow it felt heavier now—like it carried more than just the memory of your grandmother. 

In the quiet, you wondered if this was how it would always be between you and Levi—brief moments, small gestures, and unspoken words that never quite filled the space between you.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

what day are you gonna upload??? I can't waittt ACKKKK

It's up now! <3

Hiii lovelyyy, it's been awhile!! I'm still waiting for the chapter 4 of expendable hearts hehehe. We miss it so muchhh

Hii! I’m sorry I just noticed this ask 😭 I’ll be updating Expandable Hearts tomorrow! I’m really sorry for the wait ☹️ I know I said July aksjsksj I promise I haven’t forgotten about this fic.

press four for more options. | part three.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, edging, pet names, sex toys, multiple orgasms, mentions of body image Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part two. / part four. | masterlist

“Hel-lo, is the idiot in the room still with us?”

A slender hand waves back and forth, back and forth, until you awake from your everlasting daydream.

Annie Leonhart sits across from you at your favorite coffee shop looking like the cat that caught the canary.

That knowing smirk hasn’t left her face since she sat down.

Curling her fingers, she pulls her arm and returns her hand to join the other under her chin once she’s finally caught your attention.

The small blonde squints her icy blue eyes, observing, deciding on what you’ll say before you launch your defense.

“That good, huh?”

Embarrassment is your first folly.

"I— What?!”

“I know a blissful climax cloud when I see one.”

“Annie.”

Sometimes Annie could be an ass, too smug for her own good, but she was a fiercely loyal friend and colleague.

Everything is meant in jest — at least, to you. Not many others got to avoid her wrath.

You lean over the table, reaching your hand out to cover her mouth.

She manages to duck your advances, expertly so, and rears her head with a small chuckle.

“Relax, no one’s listening,” she chides.

“That’s not true,” you argue under your breath. “It's a small shop. You know the vultures circle this place.”

“Not since the old thirsties got busted for their smutty book club — which, quite frankly, I resent losing.”

"You resent?" you repeat, mirroring her squint. “But you never ended up joining the old lady book club.”

“Mm, I didn’t,” Annie agrees, picking up her coffee cup to sip leisurely. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t listen. I looked up a couple of those titles for myself. In retrospect, they had good taste.”

“Seriously?”

“Dead.”

She pauses, setting the cup back on the table.

“So… are you going to make me work for the details, or what?” she finally leads, getting to the point while you skate around it with imaginary triple axels. “Did you call again after Friday?”

You did.

In fact, you've called several times — almost every night since last Friday with the exception of Tuesday, since you’d fallen asleep as soon as you hit the couch after working overtime.

It’s now another Friday afternoon, one week from the first time you’d called the hotline, and you’re wondering what constitutes bordering on addiction.

“I have,” you confirm. 

“That’s all you’re going to say?” she chastises with a grimace. “Boo — tomato, tomato.”

“What?! What did you want me to say?”

“For starters, who the guy is.”

“Not happening.”

“Loser.” A beat passes. “But it’s not Bert?”

You shake your head vehemently.

“Definitely not Bert.”

“Thank god,” she exhales. “I like you, but I don’t know if I like you enough to be calling up the same dude to get our rocks off.”

“Jesus, Annie.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a prude.”

You pick up your own tea, sliding it across the table before taking a tentative sip.

“I don’t know how you freely talk about this like we’re trying out restaurants.”

“Because it’s not real?” she suggests, and your stomach flip-flops. 

You know it isn’t. 

It’s a job.

It’s his job.

“I don’t know,” Annie continues, sitting back against her chair with her arm draped across the curve. “It’s no strings attached and hot. I’ll never meet Bert, and he’ll never meet me, and it isn’t like he’s going to ask to hold my hand and beg me to meet his mom.”

“You’re such a commitment-phobe,” you comment with the roll of your eyes. “You won’t ever meet anyone’s mom.”

“Yeah, because I’m not a psycho,” she replies with a snort. “I take it you went premium?”

You nod once. “Levi suggested it.”

Her eyes widen, delighted, and you scowl at your own stupidity.

“Levi?”

Ah.

Fuck.

"Wait." You sit up taller. “Don’t—”

“Oh, that’s a hot name.”

“Annie, I swear to—”

She sours to herself. “Damn, that’s so much hotter than moaning Bert.”

The tea in your cup bubbles from your chortled breath. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, not my favorite name ever, but that’s fine — because it’s more like he’s moaning Annie.”

Paired with a wicked grin, your friend winks at you.

“We have two very different wants.”

You squint, and her grin widens. “Wait, do you—”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh my god, Annie.”

“What?!” she chirps with a chuckle. “You like the bossy ones, I like being the boss. You’re not allowed to kink shame me. We’re in this shit together.”

“Who said I like being bossed around?!”

She points her finger at your facedown phone.

“Porco Galliard bosses people around. I’m not stupid. And you scream ‘I don’t like being assertive’.”

Great.

The same observation Levi made over the phone without ever meeting you in person.

“Whatever, that isn’t the point,” you wave off, deciding to try and swerve the subject. “I wanted to ask: how many times do you call a week?”

Annie presses the tip of her tongue against her cheek as she considers.

“A week? Maybe two, three at most. It used to be a hell of a lot more, but I’m working a lot of late nights.”

“When you say ‘a hell of a lot more’, do you mean—?”

“Daily?” she finishes for you then tries to recall. “Why? Are you daily right now?” 

You hate yourself for a second. 

“Sort of? It’s only been a few days, but—”

“Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She reassures in that randomly serious way Annie can pull on a rare occasion.

Making fun of people might be her favorite pastime, but if she can sense true withdrawal from her friends, then she’s quick to stop. 

The blonde reaches over the table to pat your hand, but it’s hardly a comfort.

Annie is about as comforting as raw-dog wearing a hand-knitted sweater by an amateur: it's itchy, too tight, and you want it to stop immediately. 

“You’re a grown woman with grown woman money. If guys can go get blue balled at the strip club, then why can’t we call a hot guy over the phone?”

Again: not comforting at all.

With reluctance, you nod.

“You have a point.”

“I know I have a point.”

“Then again, I don’t know how long term this fix can be,” you reason. “It’s very expensive.”

“Yeah, but you know what’s more expensive?” Annie retorts. “Hooking up with a stranger at a bar who’s abysmal in bed. Maybe not so much for your wallet, but definitely for your ego.”

“And your sanity,” you agree, “if they’re weird.”

“Or a creep.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“A weird creep that happens to be a serial killer.”

You both give each other a look, an unspoken conversation of two delusional women saying ‘exactly’ in a singular gesture, as you sync the sips of your drinks.

.

.

— —

.

.

  “Do you ever — ha — use to — oh — ys?”

You’re not sure why you’re so chatty with your rabbit vibrator barely hovering over the hood of your clit.

A week ago, you would've been trying to smother yourself with a pillow for talking.

However, with each night you’ve called Levi, the more comfortable you’ve become.

More bold, if openly using toys tells him anything.

The avalanche that brought you here was quite swift.

Traffic lights no longer remind you of the cars on the road but the man waiting for you on this hotline.

A willing striptease; a compliance to do what you wish but let him take the lead.

All you had to say was ‘my hand’s getting tired’ during an edging session.

All Levi had to reply with was ‘if you had a toy, I’d allow you to tag it in’.

Allow.

Like you’re completely under his spell.

Like you couldn’t have been using one from the get-go, but you listened.

You said you did.

He said grab it.

(God, you always listen.)

Now you’re here, legs spread in the center of your bed with your phone sitting between the valley of your breasts as you talk to him through the speaker.

“I am right now,” Levi replies in that diplomatic way of his, the lift of his voice telling: he’s amused by the way you try to speak to him, even when you’re ready to scream with impatience.

“I meant on yourself,” you exhale shakily.

“On myself?”

“Like on c-calls,” you stammer, forcing yourself to focus.

He loves when you lose your mind.

You refuse to cave so fast tonight.

“A mystery for another day,” he teases, before adding in a firmer tone: “You earned it. Touch it to your clit, but don’t go inside yet. I want you wet and ready for me, understand?”

“You’re so mean.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he softens for just a moment. “And don’t talk back.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” you joke, before pressing the device against your clit.

The vibrations surge pleasure down your legs, causing your toes to curl.

You’re not sure if it’s the ‘sir’ or the moan you emit that makes him groan in return.

“The answer is no,” he finally states.

For a second, you think you did something wrong.

Then you circle back, remembering what you asked in the first place.

Right.

The toys question.

“You don’t?”

“Not on me, no.” He exhales, slow and steady. “Too busy making sure I’m hitting the script.”

That’s the funny thing about these calls:

The fourth wall? 

Broken.

He doesn’t pretend to be your boyfriend for the night, just as you don’t pretend he’s only yours.

You’re aware he’s a sex worker, just as he seems to open up about his profession when speaking to you.

At first Levi wouldn’t — it was meant to be a fantasy — but each night he’s divulged more.

Like how he used to be in the military. (Unrelated to sex.)

Like how he has an affinity for tea, going so far as to have a mild cup with you after a session in lieu of a cigarette. (Unrelated to sex.)

Like how he’s a Capricorn. (Unrelated to sex — kind of.)

In the midst of learning about him, you’ve learned about yourself.

You’re less vanilla than you originally thought.

With Porco, things felt regimented.

Scheduled.

You weren’t willing to open up your heart, much less your legs, because he was too cold behind closed doors.

Focused.

Driven to his work and passions.

Levi, on the other hand, will suggest leaning against the wall with your hand in your underwear, eyes forced to watch yourself in your full-length mirror.

To worship yourself, when he can’t.

To pump your fingers into your weeping core, when he can’t.

To give over complete and utter control with the promise that you’ll come as many times as he asks you to, because if he could be in this very room — this very apartment — he’d easily do it himself.

With Levi, you’re bold.

With Levi, you’re in.

So you’re not shy to arch your back, moaning into the receiver when you feel your first orgasm approaching you like the incoming tide.

“Levi,” you whimper his name, “can I—”

“Shit, baby, you know you can,” he practically purrs, already knowing what you’re going to ask. “C’mon. Let me hear that pretty little voice of yours, huh? Just for me?”

“Just for—”

The last word is garbled by the way your teeth clench, legs snapping together as the first climax hits after a relentless twenty-minute edging session.

It’s unreal.

It’s pain.

It’s bliss.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

(Freedom.)

You pant, pulling the vibrator away from your body for a moment to catch your breath.

You hear him hum with approval on the other end, a low rumble against your chest.

“That’s a good girl,” he says after a beat. “Feeling better?”

“So much,” you confess breathlessly.

“You sound better.”

“Thanks to you.”

“Didn’t do much.”

“Oh shut up,” you scowl before laughing.

Turning off the toy for a momentary reprieve, you allow yourself to catch your breath as you grin up at the ceiling.

“Always so goddamn modest.”

“You’re one to talk,” he scoffs, shifting on the other end of the line. “Can’t take a damn compliment to save your life.”

You make a face like he can see you in the dark, but you decide to continue the conversation.

That’s a new thing the two of you have picked up — talking.

Lots of talking.

You get off, sure, but he knows your work drama, your chore schedule — your mailmen even have the same first name, funnily enough.

“I’m serious, though,” you exhale. “Do you ever like… get off? Without toys, obviously.”

“During a call?” he clarifies, and you nod. He answers like he can see it. “No, not — not typically.”

“Wow, so you’ve faked an orgasm with me,” you tease with a blissed out snort. “Shame, shame, I know your name.”

“I what?”

“Faked it,” you clarify, fluffing your pillows behind your head as you situate yourself on your bed. “As if I don’t hear you breathing all heavy and shit over there.”

Then something unusual happens.

The man grows quiet on the other side. 

Nothing shuffles.

No huffs or ‘tchs’.

Just… silence.

“Levi?” you ask, brows knit.

A beat passes, but he answers.

“Yeah?”

“Are you good over there?”

“I— yeah, fine,” he clears his throat.

Uh-oh.

You frown immediately, blinking twice. “Sorry, was that a weird question?”

“Not at all,” he clarifies, gruff this time, “just… I said not typically, not never.”

…oh.

Oh.

Suddenly you abandon the rabbit and sit up in bed, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Wait.”

“Scarlet.”

“No, did you actually—”

“I already said too much.”

“No, wait, you can’t just imply that you’ve gotten off with me then abandon ship here, Levi!”

“I’m not abandoning ship — why do you say such weird shit sometimes?”

“How many times?!” you yelp.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Holy shit,” you exhale, “I’m so mad I didn’t pay attention.”

It’s like you can hear Levi squinting, narrowing his eyes with uncertainty on the other end of the phone. “...why would you be mad?”

“Because maybe I want to hear you get off, too?” you suggest simply.

Another agonizing breath of silence.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you place your phone on your sheets and pick up the vibrator, contemplating your next move.

“Because I would totally love to just… I don’t know, make you moan, too? See what you taste like? Feel you lose control, pull my hair, hold my head down while I wrap my lips around—”

“Baby.”

Two syllables shoot out of his mouth, as if overwhelmed with shock.

Huh.

An Uno reverse in your favor.

You’re no Shakespeare, but what you say is as honest as words can possibly be.

“I picture you all the time,” you confess softly, pressing the rabbit vibrator’s first function.

A low rumble begins, and you guide it between your legs.

You’re already soaked from your session.

There will be little give to the toy.

“When we’re not on the phone together, I wonder what it would be like. I could be at work. I could be at a coffee shop. Like, holy shit, I was meeting with a friend today and all I could think of is how badly I’d love to just take you to it — maybe disappear in the back hall, find a bathroom? I’d bend over a sink. I don’t wear skirts all the time, but I’d wear one for you.”

You hear shifting on the other end of the line, but Levi is deathly silent.

Mindlessly, your hand takes hold of the vibrator and you press against your entrance.

With a tiny whimper, you push in, deliciously enveloped in a sea of vibrations.

“You wouldn’t need to wear a skirt.”

Suddenly his voice appears, and you accidentally push the vibrator further in, causing a strangled moan to exit your mouth. 

“Le—”

“Pants are just as easy,” Levi cuts you off, a thread of a whisper. “Couldn’t take that much effort. Wouldn’t give a shit if anyone saw your damn clothes at your ankles.”

Suddenly the room burns.

“I just know you’d fill me up so good,” you whine, and there’s a sharp hiss on the other end.

“Jesus Christ.”

There.

You hear it: the waver in his voice.

“Yeah, baby,” he concedes. “I’d fill you so fucking good.”

You whimper, a pathetic little noise at the base of your throat, and he exhales a large breath — as if he’s been holding back this entire time.

“Promise?”

“When have I ever led you astray?” he challenges, a bit more strained now.

It’s the hottest thing you've ever heard.

“I wanna make you feel so good,” you breathe, ragged and wrecked, and there’s a small groan on the other end of the line.

“You already do, baby.”

“Not how I want to,” you argue in return, body pulsating with the growing need to release a second. “You’re so good at making me cum, but all I want is to take it how you want me — bend me over and fill me up, push me to my knees and stick my tongue out—”

“Fuck,” he curses sharply. “You’re so good for me. So, so fucking good, not fuckin’ fair.”

“Wanna cum with you.”

He groans, louder this time, and inhales the most deliciously jagged breath you’ve ever heard.

“Right there, baby,” he forces out. “C’mon. Give me one more. Just one more.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

You purposefully bite your tongue when you come a second time, squeezing your eyes shut with all of your senses focused solely on your ears.

A grunt, as if he’s holding back just the same before exhaling, slow and languid.

In your mind’s eye, you see it: how he uses his teeth to hold up his t-shirt, painting his abdomen with streaks of white as he holds himself back from climaxing too loud. His whole body trembles. He squeezes the tip, milking himself for all he’s worth.

Pulling the vibrator from your body, you turn it off and toss it elsewhere on your bed. Your body curls around your phone, trying to stay quiet so you can listen.

Shaky.

Exhausted.

Not typically, not never.

You say nothing, can’t, but a small giggle of euphoria emits from your throat.

Surprisingly, Levi chuckles back with that drugged slowness that comes with exhaustion.

“You’re too damn giddy after two orgasms,” he chastises, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Uh-huh, Huff ‘n Puff,” you tease right back, and he tsk’s right against the phone.

And in your heart, you know—

Know you’re in deep shit.

Know that you like Levi, even if it’s impossible to like a stranger.

Maybe when you get this month’s credit card bill, you’ll sober up from your crush.

But not right now.

Just not right now.

.

.

— —

.

.

  The next morning, you’re up bright and early.

Skip the elevator to the apartment lobby.

Walk down the stairs to kickstart your adrenaline.

Skip the coffee at the local shop.

Choose a small cup of chai instead.

By the time you make it to the gym, you’re more ready than you ever have been in your life to take on the day.

.

.

— —

.

.

  Forty-five minutes later, your sweat even has sweat.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, the endorphins from a tough workout only make you feel that more excited to get your shit together. To be more mindful of your time.

(Totally not because your last call with Levi was unreal. Nope.)

Overall, you went from hating your life to — well, this.

Whatever this is.

Owning your self agency and worth after a pitiful breakup?

Unfortunately joining this gym had been Porco’s idea — he’s a treadmill hamster, and you got swindled by the sea of abs under his tank tops.

A ‘couples activity’, whatever that meant.

(Being sweaty and tired without an orgasm to finish it off never did feel rewarding.)

After the breakup you considered trying to get out of your 6-month contract, but Porco dipped first.

He joined Pieck’s crossfit endeavor somewhere else in the city, leaving you and this dingy little gym to commiserate together.

Now?

Now, you excitedly get ready in the morning to the gym — not to get thin or look a certain way to appease anyone else. A revenge body is bonafide stupid.

No — you don’t want to be anything but stronger.

Because Levi would probably think it was hot if you were stronger.

Maybe the next time you call, he’ll be impressed that you’ve taken to strength training. 

Maybe he’ll give you some pointers — one more topic of conversation to be had.

Setting down the free weights back on the rack after a thorough cleaning of the equipment, you step out of the way of the other regulars gearing up for their workout and head towards the locker rooms to shower.

In the small pocket of your leggings, you hear your phone vibrate. 

Digging your hand in to fish it out, you see a familiar name on your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Yo [A. LEONHART]: We’re all going out Tuesday for drinks – u in?

All.

All means the department.

All might mean Porco and Pieck.

Annie must sense your apprehension, before adding:

[A. LEONHART]: Porky probs not going, Pieck’s got a family thing

Well, that’s two positives.

[ME]: I’ll think about it. [A. LEONHART]: Think about it????

[A. LEONHART]: 🍅🍅🍅

Her and her fucking tomatoes.

You snort and begin to write back—

But not before accidentally slamming chest to chest into a stranger.

The phone flies out of your hand like a bar of wet soap.

Like a Scooby Doo short, it alley-oops to the sky then smashes down against the black-speckled rubber gym floor.

Before you can even react, the person you’d bumped into is bending to crouch on the floor.

“Shit. My fault.”

Every cell in your body freezes.

Time ceases to exist.

They scoop your phone into their hand, flipping it over checking for damage. 

Luckily, the screen is intact. 

No fall damage.

But that isn’t why you’re frozen.

As they rise to full stance, your eyes are still downcast. 

From their sneakers your eyes crawl up, up, up — noticing the basketball shorts that cut just above the knee with compression under armor peeking beneath.

On his torso is an emerald green tank top, clinging to his flexing abs, the fabric speckled with sweat. 

His collarbones are defined; chin just as sharp as his cheekbones.

Then you meet his eyes.

A blue-ish gray.

The man standing before you runs on the shorter side — under average height for a man.

His ebony hair dangles and sticks to his sweat-slicked forehead, the ends pointed and shaggy.

It takes a moment until you realize you’ve seen that hair before.

While you’ve taken to walking on the treadmill for your warm-up these last several weeks, he’s typically nestled in the strength training corner of the gym alone. 

Every morning that you’re here, he is also here diligently working on his physique.

He’s always in some squat position or lying on a bench, so you never paid attention to his face—

He’s fucking gorgeous.

“Looks like it’s fine,” he says casually, and your stomach falls out of your ass.

Baritone.

Smooth like honey, low like a rumble.

There’s no way.

There is absolutely no way it’s—

“Here.”

The man holds your phone out for you, brows knitting curiously. 

You can’t speak. 

Hell, you can barely breathe.

He shakes his hand to wake you from your shock.

“Take it.”

You know that voice like the back of your hand.

Wordlessly, you reach a shaky hand towards the phone to take it back.

You part your lips to speak, but no words exit.

All you can do is grasp your phone and pull it to your chest as you catch the scent of his deodorant with a mixture of musk when he passes by, none the wiser.

By the time you turn to say something, anything—

Levi from Scout Services Hotline dips into the men’s locker room.

.

Author's Note:

...oops.

Thank you for reading part three of P4! I continue to be blown away by the response. Because of your encouragement, I wrote one of the fastest updates I've made in ages. How are we feeling now? Let me know in the comments!

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

AGGHH JUST MAKE UP ALREADY HAHAHAHA, are they gonna be together again?? 🤗 #trusttheprocess

I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ Let’s see.