[6] Expendable Hearts (Levi X F!Reader)

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

Chapter 6: Busy Nights

WC: 6664 Chapter Warnings: just angst again 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: Levi POV in this chapter !! ^^ Oh, and unfortunately, there will probably no update until after the 17th of October. I have uni exams and my study schedule is clashing with work so I probably won't time have time to write until then. See you until then! (We're gonna get more angsty and a little steamy(?) when I come back, I promise.) check out the expandable hearts playlist here!

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Over the next few days, you found yourself checking your phone more than usual, a small flicker of anticipation stirring each time you saw a new message. On Wednesday afternoon, Kuchel finally texted you the details of the dinner, and to your surprise, it wasn’t at the restaurant.

Would dinner at my place this Thursday be good? 7PM. Just us. Don’t bring anything—just yourself. See you then. —Kuchel

You stared at the message for a moment, blinking. Kuchel’s home? You hadn’t expected something so personal, but it made sense. After all, this wasn’t just any casual dinner. It was a reunion, an intimate moment to reconnect outside the hustle and noise of her now-bustling restaurant.

A mix of emotions bubbled up as you responded with a quick response.

Sounds perfect. I’ll be there.

As the dinner date drew closer, you found yourself thinking about Kuchel more than you expected. Memories from the time you worked at her small, then unassuming restaurant resurfaced—late nights closing up, chats over coffee while you helped her organize orders, Levi’s rare moments of humor in between his sharp instructions. It all seemed so distant now, like a chapter of your life that belonged to someone else.

A couple of minutes after confirming the dinner with Kuchel, another message buzzed on your phone, pulling you from the stack of legal documents you’d been reviewing. You glanced at the screen and saw Hange’s name pop up and you remember she has been pestering you about her bachelorette party. She kept sending the same message everyday for the past week.

Heyyy! Guess what? You’re invited to my bachelorette party! 🎉🎉 It’s going to be WILD. Be there, or I’ll hunt you down!! This Saturday at 8 PM. The details are attached here. Can’t wait to see you!!

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you read the message. Hange hadn’t changed one bit. She always had this vibrant energy that could light up any room, and apparently, she was bringing that energy to her bachelorette party. The thought of attending the event tugged at something inside you—an old camaraderie, a time when things were simpler, messier, but undeniably fun.

The idea of being surrounded by familiar faces again—of slipping back into that old rhythm—both excited and unsettled you. But Hange’s invitation was impossible to refuse. She had a way of pulling people into her orbit, and you knew this wouldn’t be any ordinary night. Besides, Levi won’t be there anyway.

As the day unfolded, the prospect of Kuchel’s dinner and Hange’s bachelorette party loomed closer, each event pulling you back into the life you once had here. It felt as though the city, with all its memories and relationships, was welcoming you back in layers—one familiar face at a time. And you don’t even know if you deserved it. 

—

When the evening finally arrived, you made your way to Kuchel’s home, which was tucked into a quiet neighborhood just a few blocks away from the restaurant. The walk there felt almost surreal, the streets of Stohess now familiar yet filled with memories. When you arrived, you found the house just as warm and inviting as the woman who owned it.

Kuchel’s home was modest, but there was a charm to it—plants lining the windowsills, warm lights glowing from inside, and the faint scent of cooking wafting out the front door. You took a deep breath and knocked.

The door swung open almost immediately, and there she was, smiling as though no time had passed at all.

“You made it,” Kuchel said, her voice bright as she stepped aside to let you in. “Come on in, the food’s almost ready.”

You stepped inside, taking in the cozy, lived-in feel of the space. Photos lined the walls, some of Levi as a boy, and others of what seemed to be old family gatherings. The warmth of the place wrapped around you, instantly putting you at ease.

“I haven’t been here in so long,” you said softly, looking around.

Kuchel smiled as she led you into the kitchen, where a simple but delicious-smelling meal was simmering on the stove. “I figured it’d be nice to have dinner somewhere quiet. We can talk without the restaurant noise, and besides, I’ve been meaning to catch up with you for a long time.”

As you took a seat at her kitchen table, Kuchel poured you a glass of wine, her movements graceful and familiar. “It’s been too long. You’ve done so much since you left, and I want to hear everything.”

You smiled, settling into the moment. “There’s a lot to catch up on,” you admitted. “But I want to hear about you, too. Kuchel’s has grown so much—I couldn’t believe it when I saw how busy it was the other night.”

Kuchel laughed softly as she joined you at the table. “Levi deserves most of the credit for that. He’s been the driving force behind the expansion. I never imagined we’d get this far, honestly. But enough about work—for tonight, let’s treat each other like the old times.” 

You took a sip of your wine, feeling the warmth of the room and the comfort of Kuchel’s presence sink in. “It’s been a whirlwind,” you began, knowing that this evening would be one of reconnection, not just with Kuchel, but with the parts of yourself that you’d left behind when you moved away. You began to tell her what happened like how you tell it to everyone, how you left the city, moved your grandma, went to law school, how your grandma died, and how you began to work in Trost. 

And as the night unfolded, with laughter and stories shared over a lovingly prepared meal, you realized how much you had missed this—missed her, and the sense of home that Kuchel had always provided.

As the dinner with Kuchel neared its end, the conversation had drifted from light-hearted reminiscing to more personal territory. You both shared a bottle of wine, laughter mixing with memories, but there was a point where the ease of the evening gave way to something deeper. Kuchel, always observant, seemed to notice the way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes, the way you hesitated before answering certain questions.

She set her glass down, her expression softening as the last bit of warmth from the meal filled the quiet space between you. “I’m really glad you’re back,” she said, her voice gentle but with an edge of seriousness. “You were with someone else when I first saw you but it’s been plaguing my mind so I came to ask you to meet me. I’m sorry, dear… I have to ask, how are you really doing?”

You looked down at your plate for a moment, the weight of the question settling in. Kuchel had always been able to read you, even when you didn’t want to be read. She wasn’t one for surface-level small talk—not with you.

“I’m fine,” you started, instinctively offering the answer you’d given everyone else. But Kuchel’s eyes didn’t waver, and the sincerity of her gaze made you pause. She wasn’t letting you get away with that.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table, her voice a little softer now. “I know it’s been a long time, and I don’t expect you to spill everything right now… but I can see it. You’ve been through something. So, how have you really been?”

The words hung in the air, and for the first time all night, you felt exposed. You hadn’t planned on opening up—not tonight, maybe not ever—but something about Kuchel’s quiet persistence, her maternal presence, made you feel safe enough to let the guard down.

“You know—and don’t tell Levi I told you this but… when the breakup happened, Levi didn’t take it well. And I never got to talk to you about it. But if Levi experienced that… it was probably bad for you too, wasn’t it?” She reached for your hand across the table, placing a comforting hand on yours, and caressing it with care and love of a mother. 

It took all of you to control your emotions right there and then. For Kuchel to say this, the curiosity of what Levi endured during those times that you broke things off and what happened to everyone after you left only became stronger, accompanied with greater guilt that you have always been carrying. You look away and take a deep breath, setting your own glass aside. “I… it was hard for me too, I admit.”

Kuchel nodded, not interrupting, just listening in that patient way of hers. It encouraged you to continue.

“When I left, it was all I could think of doing. But it feels like I just ran. Away from here, from everything. And now that I’m back, it’s like… all of it is catching up to me, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

You hadn’t meant to be so honest, but once the words started spilling out, it was hard to stop. Kuchel listened intently, her eyes filled with understanding, but she didn’t say anything right away.

“I knew there was more under the surface,” she said softly. “You’ve always been strong, but sometimes it’s okay to stop carrying it all alone. I can see it’s hard to tell what really happened and I—we can wait. There’s still people that love you here. You can find your way back to them.”

Her words hit deeper than you expected, and for the first time in a while, you felt a small sense of relief—a release of the tension you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. It was comforting, having someone like Kuchel, who knew you before the layers of adulthood and responsibility piled on.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

Kuchel smiled warmly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. But don’t keep it bottled up either. You’ve got people here who care, people who are still part of your life—whether it’s me, or Hange, or whoever else. Don’t be a stranger.”

You nodded, feeling the sincerity in her words settle over you like a warm blanket. There was something about the way she said it that made you believe it.

The evening ended on a note of quiet understanding, Kuchel walking you to the door with a promise to see each other again soon. As you stepped out into the night, the weight on your shoulders felt just a little lighter, knowing that at least here, in this corner of your past, you had someone who understood—someone who saw through the cracks and cared enough to reach out.

—

After saying your goodbyes to Kuchel and leaving her cozy home, the cool night air greeted you as you stepped out of the cab in front of your apartment. The streets were quiet, only the occasional flicker of distant headlights passing by, the buzz from your dinner still lingering in your mind. Kuchel's words played over and over in your head—her gentle insistence that you didn’t have to carry everything alone. You felt lighter, as if some invisible weight had been lifted, but also heavy with the realization that coming back to the city meant dealing with more than just the people from your past. It meant facing the reality that this is the present–your current situation, something you can no longer run away from. 

As you rounded the corner of your street, something caught your eye—a familiar silhouette, leaning casually against the building. At first, you thought you were imagining it, the streetlights casting long shadows that distorted the figure. But as you approached, the figure became clearer, the unmistakable stance of someone you hadn't expected to see, but somehow weren’t surprised by.

Levi.

He stood there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was a tension in his posture that told you this wasn’t just a casual visit. His dark eyes flicked up as you approached, locking onto yours with the same intensity you remembered. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words.

“What are you doing here?” you finally asked, your voice quieter than you intended, but firm enough to mask the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside you.

Levi pushed off from the wall, standing straighter as he took a few slow steps toward you. 

"How was the dinner?" he asked, the words falling out more out of habit than genuine curiosity. He didn't need to know about the dinner, not really. He just needed to say something.

“You knew?” You blinked, surprised that he even knew about it. Then you remembered, of course—Levi was always aware of things, especially when it came to Kuchel. He probably knew you'd be seeing her tonight even if she didn’t tell him. 

"It was nice," you said, carefully, as if you were trying not to give too much away. "Kuchel’s doing well."

Levi nodded, his gaze shifting for a second, as though considering whether to say something more. But instead, he settled on something simple. "Good."

Another silence stretched between you, longer this time. It was clear he wasn’t going to explain why he’d really come. Maybe you didn’t need to ask—maybe it didn’t matter. But the tension between you felt thick, almost suffocating. The years apart hadn’t erased anything. You can still feel the immeasurable amount of love he has for his mother. In honesty, you’d expected him to be angry that you reconnected with Kuchel. But of course, this was Levi. If it’s mother’s happiness or want, he would never question or fault her for it. 

Levi nodded, staring down at the ground for a beat, shoving his hands back into his jacket pockets. There was no reason for him to stay, but he lingered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of the city around you both.

"You didn’t have to come all the way out here," you said, breaking the silence, your voice soft but carrying a note of hesitation. You didn’t ask him outright why he was there, but it was implied.

Levi shrugged, his eyes meeting yours briefly before drifting off again. "Maybe I did."

You swallowed, not sure how to respond to that. For all of Levi’s usual bluntness, there was always something deeper that he never quite let show. Something that made it impossible to fully walk away from him, even when you thought you had. 

“Get some rest,” Levi said after a moment, his voice quieter now, almost softer. “You look awful.”

He gave you a curt nod and turned to walk away, leaving you standing there, feeling like something had just shifted between you. Something unspoken, unresolved, and maybe destined to remain that way.  

—

The night of Hange’s bachelorette party arrived with the kind of energy that made the air feel electric. You stood outside the venue, a trendy rooftop bar in the heart of the city, the neon lights of Stohess Street reflected in the glass walls behind you. The place had been transformed—streamers, lights, and enough champagne to fill a small pool. You took a deep breath before stepping inside, knowing that wherever Hange was, chaos was sure to follow.

As you entered, you were immediately hit by a wave of laughter, music, and the unmistakable sound of Hange’s voice ringing out over the crowd. The space was filled with friends, both familiar faces and new ones, all gathered to celebrate. You spotted her almost immediately—Hange was at the center of the room, a crown of flowers on her head and a glass of champagne in hand, already in full party mode.

“There she is!” Hange’s voice rang out as she spotted you from across the room, her face lighting up as she waved you over. She was wearing a sash that read “Bride-to-Be” in glittering letters, and her energy was contagious. “I thought you’d never make it! Come here!”

You smiled, weaving through the crowd of partygoers to reach her. Before you could say a word, Hange pulled you into a tight hug, nearly spilling her champagne in the process.

“I told you it’d be wild!” she laughed, stepping back to take you in. “Look at you! You clean up well.”

“Thanks, Hange,” you said, unable to help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. “This is… a lot.”

“Only the best for my bachelorette!” she declared, spinning around to show off the venue. “We’ve got drinks, food, and games—oh, and don’t forget the karaoke later.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Karaoke?”

Hange grinned wickedly. “Oh yeah, it’s happening. And you will sing, my friend.”

Before you could protest, Nanaba appeared beside you, already holding a glass of champagne for you. “She’s not kidding about the karaoke. Start thinking of your song now,” she teased, handing you the glass. “Long time no see, girl.”

You took it, laughing softly. “Oh my god, Nanaba,” you greet her with a hug. She hugs you back.

Everyone began to greet you. Out of all the attendees, you only knew Nanaba who thankfully treated you kindly like it hasn’t been years since you’ve last seen each other. Tonight, it will all be about Hange, that’s what she said. 

The party was in full swing, with drinks flowing and people chatting in every corner. You settled into the crowd, reminiscing about college days with Nanaba and meeting new girls, but the chaotic energy of the evening was starting to grow on you. Every time you glanced at Hange, she was in the middle of some new adventure—whether it was a game, making an impromptu speech, or trying to rope someone into a dance-off.

As the night went on, you found yourself at the bar, taking a moment to breathe. That’s when Hange sidled up beside you, a mischievous glint in her eye. “So,” she started, leaning on the bar, “I heard you and Levi ran into each other recently.”

You froze for a second, surprised she’d brought it up. Of course, Hange would know. “Yeah… he returned something I forgot in his car,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Hange raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your casual tone. “Oh, just a handkerchief? Interesting.”

You gave her a look. “It was nothing. We barely talked.” While we were having dinner, that is, you thought. 

“Sure,” she said with a teasing grin. “Well, just so you know, I mixed that drink myself.”

You stared at her, caught off guard. “Of course you did.”

She laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. “What? It’s my party! I want everyone to have fun. Besides, it’ll be fun for everyone to let loose. Don’t worry, it’s not as dangerous as the ones I made from college. I’ve practiced a lot over the years.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Hange always had a way of stirring the pot, even when she didn’t mean to. Before you could respond, she was pulled away by a group of friends, leaving you to your thoughts for a moment.

The night wore on, and as promised, karaoke eventually took over the party. You found yourself dragged into a group rendition of some 90s throwback song, with Hange leading the charge and everyone laughing so hard they could barely keep up with the lyrics. It was chaotic, messy, and exactly what you’d expected from a night like this.

As you looked around at the familiar faces, the laughter, and the whirlwind energy of the party, you felt a strange sense of belonging—a feeling you hadn’t realized you’d missed until now. It was like stepping back into a part of yourself you’d left behind, and for the first time in a while, you felt like maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to be back. Or maybe that was the alcohol in your system. You feel like you’re about to crash out soon. 

The party didn’t start winding down until the early hours of the morning, when even Hange began to show signs of exhaustion. You were one of the last to leave, standing on the rooftop as the city stretched out beneath you, barely alive with the hum of nightlife. The reason you didn’t leave yet is because your alcohol tolerance betrayed you. You fear that if you go home alone, you’d pass out on the street and wake up god knows where.

Hange caught up to you once more as you stood, leaning on the tall railings. “Hey,” she said, her tone more serious now, though still light. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me, you know? Having you back here.”

You smiled, feeling the sincerity in her words. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

“Good,” she said, giving you a lopsided grin before pulling you into one last hug. “Now get home and sleep. We’ve got more partying to do at the wedding.” 

“Actually, can you grab me a cab? I don’t think I can book a ride on my phone at my state.” Your words are slurring off with a soft laugh as you talk, trying to pull out your phone out of your pocket only to find it empty. “Oh, other pocket,” you murmured incoherently as you finally had your phone in your hand.

You look up to already see Hange grinning at you, her cheeks flushed with the excitement of the night. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Already taken care of.”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What do you mean?”

Hange gave you a look that was somewhere between mischievous and knowing, her eyes twinkling with that signature glint she always got when she knew she was meddling in something. “I called someone to pick you up.” 

Your stomach dropped, and a sense of foreboding crept into your drunken haze. “Who?” you asked, dreading the answer. 

“For fuck’s sake, Hange.” 

For one good second, you sobered up, chills filling your entire body when you heard his voice. You look in his direction, already walking up to the two of you. He’s wearing a black jacket and jeans, his hair a little tousled by the windy air of the rooftop. 

“I thought you’d know better than drinking Hange’s mix,” he directly spoke to you now, arms crossed in disappointment. Him standing in front of you hit you like a splash of cold water. You blinked a few times, as if you don’t believe what you’re seeing in front of you. 

“Levi? You called Levi?” is what you would’ve said if you could even make some words out of your drunken mouth. You let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the situation settle in your already tipsy mind. The way Levi is seeing you right now—drunk, disoriented, and in this state—is too humiliating, but it was too late to argue. Hange had made her decision without consulting you, and there was no undoing it now, with him already standing in front of you.

Hange laughed, patting you on the back. “Welp, here’s your designated driver. Moblit’s on his way to fetch me so you two go on ahead.”

With that, Hange left the two of you alone by the railings. The two of you stood there in silence. The long-sleeved shirt you wore does nothing for the chilly night, you wrap your arms tightly around yourself as the cold night air sobered you up just enough to feel the awkwardness building. Your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned on the railing, trying to steady yourself.

He approached you closer, his usual unreadable expression giving nothing away. “You good to go, or do I need to carry you to the car?” he asked, his voice dry but not unkind.

You blinked, trying to pull yourself together, but you could still feel the alcohol buzzing in your system. “I can walk,” you muttered, feeling heat rise in your cheeks despite the cool air.

Levi’s lips twitched ever so slightly at your response, a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Sure you can.”

You huff, trying to walk away from him. You swayed slightly on your feet, your mind racing with a mixture of embarrassment and dread as you head to the elevator. Levi followed closely behind you. Whenever you feel like you’re about to lose your stance, you’d feel a slight graze of a hand on your back. He never touches you. But you’re awfully aware of his presence behind you. 

The two of you waited in front of the elevator in silence. You don’t look at Levi. You feel like your face is going to be redder than it already is if you look at his handsome face. And what was he wearing? Did he go somewhere? Why does he look like that? It’s so unfair. He’s so hot. The all black fit always hits you differently, the alcohol is not helping either. 

Just as the elevator doors open, something draped on your shoulders. Levi’s jacket. “Wear it. You look like you’re gonna freeze to death.” 

As the two of you go in, due to actually feeling like you’re going to freeze to death, you don’t complain and wear his jacket. The smell of his cologne fills your nose and you bury yourself in the warmth of it. 

"You look like you’ve had a rough night," he said, his voice flat but with a hint of dry amusement.

You huffed out a breath, leaning your elbows on the railing again. “It wasn’t supposed to end with you showing up.” You paused for a moment. “Thanks for coming… but you didn’t have to. I could’ve called a cab.”

Levi shrugged, glancing over at the view of the city in front of you. “You were drunk, and she called me. Simple as that.”

You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing with him. “Yeah, I guess.”

He glanced at you, taking in the way you leaned a little too heavily against the wall, the faint pink flush on your cheeks. As the two of you stood there, the awkward silence between you grew. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an underlying tension—one that neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

You made it to the lobby  and then outside of the building, the cool air of the outside world hitting you like a fresh wave of another cold. Levi led the way to his car parked just outside, and you hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and reluctance.

When you reached the car, Levi opened the passenger door for you, motioning for you to get in. You do as he says, slipping into the passenger seat.  The ride was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound between you as he drove through the city streets, which had quieted down in the late hours. You stared out the window, watching the lights of the buildings blur as you passed by. 

Levi finally broke the silence, his voice soft but steady. “Hange said you were having fun tonight.”

You let out a small laugh, still feeling the god-awful drink swirling in your veins. “Yeah, I was… surprisingly”

He glanced at you briefly. “Parties weren't really your thing.”

“Neither are late-night rescues,” you replied, shooting him a half-smile.

Levi’s lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile you’d seen from him all night. “Could’ve fooled me.”

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, the weight of the night settling over you as your eyelids grew heavy. The rhythmic hum of the car and the gentle motion of the drive lulled you into a deeper state of relaxation. The alcohol in your system had finally caught up with you, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your eyes grew heavier with each passing minute. You leaned your head against the cool window, the blur of city lights fading as your consciousness began to slip.

You barely registered Levi glancing over at you from the driver's seat. His expression, ever unreadable, softened slightly as he noticed your slow, even breathing. He kept driving for a few more minutes, but when he pulled up in front of your apartment building and turned off the engine, you didn’t stir.

—

Levi sat there for a moment, staring at you, your body curled up in the passenger seat, completely oblivious to the world around you. The faint rise and fall of your chest was the only sound in the quiet of the car. He let out a small sigh, looking around the area of your building as he considered his options. There were still some people outside in the streets. The underground never slept, filled with drunktards and no-good doers. 

After a moment of hesitation, Levi made his decision. Getting you inside your apartment, trying to find your keys, and getting you up the steep and unpaved stairs—all of it seemed like too much for someone in your condition. 

Without another word, Levi drove off your apartment and to his own home where you’ll be more comfortable. After he parked his car, Levi got out of the car and came around to your side. He opened the passenger door quietly and leaned down, carefully sliding one arm beneath your legs and the other around your back. You stirred slightly as he lifted you, your head resting against his chest as he effortlessly carried you out of the car. The smell of alcohol fills his nose but it didn’t bother him one bit.  His movements were slow and deliberate, making sure not to wake you as he adjusted your weight in his arms. 

You murmured something incoherent, your head shifting slightly as you nestled closer against him. Levi froze for a second, his gaze flickering down to you, but when you didn’t wake, he continued walking toward his building.

Once inside, Levi carried you up the stairs to his apartment. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the street lamps outside. He shifted you gently in his arms to open the door, then stepped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click. He made his way through the familiar space, heading toward his bedroom.

Levi laid you down carefully on his bed, pulling back the covers as he positioned you comfortably on the mattress. You stirred again, this time more aware, your eyes fluttering open briefly as you tried to figure out where you were. Your vision was blurry, your mind still fogged with sleep and alcohol, but you recognized the familiar scent of Levi’s apartment. 

"Levi?" you mumbled, your voice hoarse with sleep.

He was already adjusting the blanket over you, making sure you were covered and comfortable. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said quietly, his voice unusually soft. “Go back to sleep.”

You blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the situation, but exhaustion pulled at you like a weight. Your body relaxed into the bed, the warmth of the blankets lulling you back to the edge of unconsciousness. “This isn’t… my place…” you muttered, but even as you said it, your eyes were closing again.

“I know,” Levi replied, stepping back slightly as he watched you. “You fell asleep in the car.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead, you let out a soft sigh, sinking deeper into the mattress. “Yeah…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible as sleep finally overtook you.

As Levi carefully tucked the blanket around you, making sure you were comfortable, he turned to leave the room. But just as he was about to pull away, he felt a gentle tug on his arm.

In your half-conscious state, your fingers had wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place. He froze, staring down at you, his heartbeat quickening unexpectedly. Your eyes were still closed, your breathing slow and steady, but your grip was firm—gentle, yet desperate, as though some part of you, even in sleep, didn’t want him to leave.

“Stay… please…” you whispered, your voice barely audible but enough to make Levi’s breath catch.

He wasn’t sure if you were dreaming or fully aware of what you were saying, but the soft plea reached him. You shifted slightly, your hand sliding up his arm as you pulled him closer, nestling into the blankets. “hold me…” you murmured, the vulnerability in your voice tugging at something deep inside him.

Levi’s body went rigid, his mind torn between his instinct to distance himself and the raw emotion in your voice. He had never been good with moments like this—moments that demanded more than what he was used to offering. But the way you clung to him, even unconsciously, made it difficult to simply pull away. It reminded him of old, easier times. 

With a quiet sigh, Levi gave in. He gently sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb you too much. His movements were slow, uncertain, but deliberate. He stretched out beside you, keeping a small distance at first, though your hand never let go of him.

As you sensed his presence closer, you relaxed, instinctively shifting so that your head rested lightly against his chest. The tension in your body melted as you let out a soft, contented sigh, your hand still gripping his shirt as if afraid he might disappear.

Levi lay there, still and silent, staring up at the ceiling, his heart beating faster than usual. He didn’t know what to do with his free arm, but eventually, he let it settle around your shoulder, holding you with a gentleness that surprised even him. The scent of your hair and the warmth of your body against his was oddly calming, despite the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind.

The room was quiet, save for your slow, steady breathing. Levi glanced down at you, watching the peaceful expression on your face, the way your brow had unfurled and your lips parted slightly in sleep. You looked vulnerable, and yet completely at ease.

For a brief moment, Levi allowed himself to relax, too. He wasn’t sure what this meant—this sudden closeness but as you snuggled into him, your body warm against his, he let himself be present in the moment.

Just for tonight, he told himself. Just for now.

As the minutes passed, Levi found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. Your face was serene in sleep, the tension from the day and the alcohol completely dissolved. He hadn't seen you like this in a long time—peaceful, unguarded. There was something deeply comforting in watching you like this, something that stirred memories he had long buried. Only now was he able to stare at your face without fearing he’d crumble in front of you. The darkness under your eyes tells everyone that you’re tired but the years have painted a maturity in your face that didn’t take away your beauty. 

His eyes traced the familiar lines of your features—the way your lashes rested softly on your cheeks, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed. The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of your breathing, and Levi’s thoughts seemed to drift along with it. He wasn’t one to dwell on the past, but here, beside you, he couldn’t help but think of everything that had happened between you two—what you had been, what you could have been.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but a deep, unspoken longing began to rise in his chest, a feeling he had been trying to ignore ever since the night he had shown up outside your apartment without a reason. The closeness of you, the way you had unconsciously reached for him, pulled at something deep inside him.

His gaze softened, lingering on your parted lips, the way your hair spilled across the pillow, framing your face. Slowly, as if drawn by some invisible force, he found himself leaning in closer. His heart began to pound louder, an unfamiliar rush of emotions building within him, making his movements feel almost inevitable.

He told himself to stop, to pull back before he crossed a line. But as his face hovered just inches above yours, he was overwhelmed by the quiet intimacy of the moment. The warmth of your breath brushed against his skin, and his pulse quickened. You were so close, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would feel like—to close that final distance, to press his lips against yours once again. 

He hesitated, his breath hitching as his eyes traced your sleeping face. You looked so peaceful, so trusting, curled up against him. And yet, in that moment, the weight of what was unsaid between you—the unresolved tension, the memories, the regrets—hung in the air. 

Levi’s hand, which had been resting lightly on your shoulder, twitched as he fought the urge to touch you, to run his fingers through your hair, to let his guard down completely. But just as he was about to give in to the moment, he stopped himself.

A faint sigh escaped him as he pulled back, his forehead creasing with conflict. He couldn’t do it—not like this. Not while you were asleep and unaware. It wouldn’t be fair to you, and he knew better than to act on fleeting impulses, no matter how strong they felt in the moment.

With a deep breath, Levi settled back onto the pillow, keeping his arm around you but maintaining the distance between your faces. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing, the weight of the unspoken emotions pressing heavily on his chest.

As you shifted slightly in your sleep, your hand still clutching his shirt, Levi closed his eyes, trying to push away the longing that had nearly overtaken him.

But the truth lingered, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it: after all these years, he had never really let you go. 

He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of concern and something else flickering in his eyes before he carefully stood up from the bed, turned and quietly walked into his bathroom. He got two things, a cleanser and some cotton. 

He walked back to the bed, seeing you sleeping soundly. Gently, he sat down beside you and began to wipe the makeup off your face. He’s careful not to wake you, not applying too much pressure. He’s seen you do this back in college, telling him that makeup should always be removed before bed. If he could change your clothes he would as well. But you looked comfortable enough in his jacket. 

Levi walked back into the living room when he was done, his mind oddly restless despite the quiet of the apartment. He sat down on the couch, staring out the window at the city lights outside, knowing that tonight had been different. He didn’t know why he had brought you here instead of waking you up or why he had come to fetch you in the first place. He didn’t know why he didn’t refuse Hange’s call knowing that you were together. He didn’t know why he even dressed up and ran to your side without question. There were a lot of things he didn’t know and didn’t understand. Most of all, he doesn’t understand how you still have a hold of him like this all over the years you were gone. And to be honest, it angered him but mostly, it scared him. 

But as the minutes passed and the apartment remained still, he figured maybe it didn’t matter. And whatever questions you have, he'll figure it out tomorrow. For now, you were safe. And that was enough.

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

press four for more options. | part four.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k 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 - alternate universe (modern), sex work, pet names, alcohol, mentions of drugs, jokes about death Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part three. / return to part one. | masterlist

Night comes around.

You do not call.

In fact, you don't call the Scout Services Hotline a single time that whole weekend.

As you scroll mindlessly through social media in your bed, fluttering between apps without retaining a single word or meme, your cell phone weighs heavily in your hand.

Don't call.

Just don't call.

It isn't like you're devoid of things to do.

Going out is an option.

Being around people may help your mood — but you don’t feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.

Putting on a movie can be a great distraction — but you know your attention span would barely last through the opening credits.

It was him.

Right there.

Right in front of you.

Levi from Scout Services, alive and in the flesh, holding your phone.

No amount of mental gymnastics can make you doubt otherwise. 

He has a voice like no other; one that haunts your day dreams and soothes your nightmares, one that brings this sudden urge to do better for yourself—

Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.

Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that you’re stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.

(Kind of thwarts the whole ‘new me’ chest-puffing you’d started Friday with.)

So you make a final decision:

You still have to go to the gym Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

Even if you say nothing, keep to yourself, remain a shadow, you have to go.

(There’s a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. You’re not delusional to believe you’re a main character exception.)

Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too. 

Your stomach flip-flops with the unsettling realization that your perch on a treadmill actually gives you a perfect vantage point to watch him as he sets his station up every morning.

Meticulously he sets towels down to place his shaker bottle and water thermos down, as if worried the ground hadn’t been cleaned overnight.

He even takes the disinfectant cloths and cleans every dumbbell he lines up neatly before starting his workout.

The dark-haired man truly is less-than-average in height, which isn’t a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms — his goddamn arms.

Levi wasn’t kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.

He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.

They’re so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.

Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that you’re the bumbling idiot that’s tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.

Hell, he hasn’t a single fucking clue that you’re close enough to yell across the room to him.

Would he know?

That you’re Scarlet.

His, in some made-up world.

(Does your voice stand out in a sea of lonely people?)

The cleaning ritual extends to his cooldown, where he properly cleans each piece of equipment before nestling it back in its place.

Levi sits on his phone for a second, dropping down to a bench to scroll — text messages.

(Damn it, have you really resorted to minor stalking?)

As soon as he stands, though, you drop your chin to watch your sneakers rhythmically pass one another on the treadmill belt.

He passes like a ghost, evaporating into the men’s locker room without a word.

This is torture.

You miss him.

But you still refuse to call.

Can't — because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.

.

.

— —

.

.

    Tuesday night rolls around and you decide you hate life.

Annie, Eren, Reiner, and Mikasa are already there by the time you walk into the downtown hotspot.

The boys as well as Mikasa are still in their suit attire from work, their ties loosened at their necks. Annie’s in a hoodie and jeans, clearly much more interested in having a comfortable evening.

If the emptied shot glasses are any indicator of the plans for this evening, then you steel yourself for one hell of a Wednesday.

You glide through the busy crowds of the bar towards the group.

Bodies upon bodies crowd this place — it’s never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath. 

A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.

(Can’t you turn around and go home while you’re ahead?)

In the sea of people, a pair of emerald green eyes over by a cluster of tables in the right-hand corner catch your movement. They widen, recognizing your face, and a lopsided grin of surprise follows.

“Holy shit, she left her cave!” Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.

(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)

You don’t hear what she says, but you can see Mikasa’s lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.

Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.

“I know. Don’t be so shocked,” you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. “Am I the last to show?”

“Nah, you’re right on time. Armin and Jean’re on their way,” Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. “Sasha’s on babysitting duty with Nicco.”

You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.

“And Connie?”

“Passed out,” Mikasa supplies. “Took edibles after work.”

“There’s no chance in hell anyone’s waking him,” Eren snorts. “Fucker’s toast.”

Reiner sighs. “For what it’s worth, Jean tried.”

“No, Armin tried,” Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks — brandy? Whiskey? You can’t tell. “Jean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.”

“You didn’t see the Snapchat he sent?” Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.

You shake your head, knowing damn well you’ve avoided using your phone for the last several days. 

Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined — anything so you wouldn’t be tempted to click that little number.

Damn it.

Enough wallowing.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you state, disengaging with the table. “Anyone need anything?”

From your peripheral, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair walking towards your group. At his side is a much taller man sliding through the crowd, navigating the shorter one to the tiny table you’ve commandeered from the masses.

Armin and Jean.

Reiner and Annie shake their heads.

“Nope, I’m solid.”

“Good here.”

“Eren’s got the next round of shots,” Mikasa flatly states. “You’re fine.”

“Ha, hell yeah!” Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. “Wait, what?”

You don’t stick around for that aftermath.

Squeezing back into the lion’s den of people, you try not to get hit with any too-full beverages or waving hands.

You manage to weave and duck, eventually finding a small empty corner at the edge of the bar.

Success.

You rush to claim it before someone else can, your forearm on the wooden surface. 

Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartender’s attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you — she’ll get there eventually.

Two empty stools are available, so you scoot onto the one closest to the wall while waiting for your turn and drop your purse onto the other while you situate yourself. 

It’ll likely take a while if the busyness of the staff has anything to say about it.

An hour.

All you need to do is last one whole hour.

Chat a bit, mingle a little so everyone at work doesn’t think you’re a total goddamn recluse, then you can go—

“Is this seat taken?”

A question sounding to your left breaks your train of thought.

The seat.

The one next to you, where your purse lay.

Way to go, dumbass.

You answer on autopilot, not thinking twice about it.

“Oh — shit, yeah. I mean, no! No it’s not. I’m sorry.”

As your torso turns to grab your purse off of the deep red stool, your eyes drop to make sure nothing spills out of it.

“Hold on, let me just move—”

Your chin lifts to find yourself staring eye to eye with Levi.

Wait.

Levi?!

His cheekbones look even sharper under the warm hue of the bar lights overhead, lips parted like he was interrupted in asking a question.

The whites of his eyes grow more prominent with every passing second, making the blue-gray color of them stand out in stark contrast to the black curtain of fringe falling against his temples.

The realization that you spoke — that he’s seen your face before — seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.

Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.

“...my stuff.”

Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now. 

Maybe a stranger, like a secret agent with wicked strength, will simply rush the bar and put you in a headlock and knock you out. 

Maybe your drink will be poisoned. 

You’re happy for anything so long as it’s swift.

Levi grunts in acknowledgement, slowly finding a spot on the empty stool beside yours.

Both of you swivel towards the bar, staring ahead.

Silence.

For what feels like hours, neither of you speak. The noise of the bar becomes overwhelming.

Somehow the surrounding voices feel amplified when you’ve lost your own. 

It’s trapped between a thousand apologies and half a dozen explanations that sound worse than the one before it.

You need to get up.

Excuse yourself out. 

Leave.

You won’t get your damn drink, but that’s fine so long as you’re not here.

“How’s your phone?”

Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadn’t. 

The effect of his voice is even worse in person — so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isn’t a phone receiver to dilute it.

“Not… damaged,” you reply cautiously.

“Good.”

Another stretch of silence passes, and you forget about ordering drinks altogether.

Your eyes drop to view his folded hands, how the veins protrude even when resting.

His fingers are slender, strong, and hate yourself for yearning.

You have to apologize.

This is crossing a line.

You need to—

“So—”

“I’m canceling my subscription.”

You blurt a fraction later than Levi, proclaiming your innocence before he can ever condemn it.

When you meet his steely eyes, they squint with curiosity.

From the crown of your head to your chin, he assesses in a serpentine pattern before eventually finding your eyes once more.

“How come?” he asks, leaning further against the bar top.

“I— how come?”

You repeat his question in surprise.

Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.

“Uh, because that’s the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?”

He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.

“And for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

“I’m actually here with friends—”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling. 

“At the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didn’t say anything.”

Why isn’t he freaking out?

Shouldn’t he be freaking out?

Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.

“What can I get you?”

You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks. 

“I—”

“I got her tab,” Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. “Two hard seltzers.”

Then he has the audacity to glance your way.

“Pineapple, right?”

Holy shit, he remembers your favorite flavor?

Is this a flex?

(It kind of feels like a flex; a way to say I know you, I was there.)

“...pineapple’s fine,” you murmur in return, hesitant.

The bartender doesn’t waste another second to rummage in the mini fridge on the other side of the bar for two slim cans.

For another agonizing thirty seconds, neither of you say a word.

He raises his chin to watch whatever sport’s game is playing overhead on the television.

You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.

This is real life.

The man you’ve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isn’t trying to create distance.

If anything, he’s buying you a damn drink and asking you why.

Why didn’t you say something?

“I didn’t say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,” you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. “What would I have said? ‘Oh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isn’t it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?’ That’s so creepy.” 

When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.

“I mean, I thought you lived, like… a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.”

His brows pinch with amusement. 

“On Mars, or…?”

Oh.

He’s joking.

He’s actually joking about this.

You turn your chin, brow furrowed. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.

“I wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.”

No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.

“So you’re not…”

“Worried you’re a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?”

Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.

Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.

“I’m more pissed that you didn’t call all weekend, but then again, that’s the nature of the job.”

You both watch each other for a moment as the bartender returns, passing you both pineapple hard seltzers to nurse.

He pushes your can to your hand, nudging the icy-cold aluminum against your thumb, then picks up his own.

“The nature of the job?” you repeat, and he nods.

“People get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.” 

Levi shrugs, sipping his drink. 

“Just because you like talking to someone doesn’t mean they stick around. Wouldn’t blame 'em — shit gets expensive quick.”

“I just…”

You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.

“...I thought it wasn’t right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didn’t.” 

Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didn’t know you’d committed until hindsight.

“I can leave you alone,” you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. “Like I said, I’m here with my friends and… after all, you were doing your job. A great job. You’re kind of the reason I’m even here in the first place.”

Levi’s brow knits, and your eyes widen.

“Not like that!”

“Pretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,” he murmurs like it’s a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. “So how am I the reason?”

He’s not angry.

Hell, he’s conversational.

Not the least bit worried about how you’ve both managed to get here.

Might as well be honest.

“Because I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,” you confess softly. “It— That’s why I got to the gym so early on Friday. I wanted to start doing strength training, like how you talk about how much you love it. And… I thought, maybe, I’d spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive — beyond right now, obviously.”

The dark-haired man’s expression smooths at that in a mixture of recognition and surprise.

The slide of his brow is beautiful, and your heart squeezes at the sight of an animated Levi in the flesh, just as you pictured.

“Do you have to go back to your friends right now?”

At first you don’t quite register his question, but then it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

He looks left to right, as if trying to find your troop of buddies, before returning his attention back to you.

“You don’t… want me to leave?”

Levi shakes his head.

You feel bolted to your stool, unable to move even if you wanted to.

Simultaneously you sip your drinks, keeping eye contact.

It feels intimate.

Too intimate.

“So, then…” You start slowly. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. “Means the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.”

“Right.”

“Then again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.”

You blink, not following. “Huh?”

“There’s nothing in the company policy about what to do when you stumble into your client at the damn local gym, but there sure as hell wasn’t anything about…”

Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.

“...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. I’m good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

Levi… was sorry?

The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.

“I… just said I crossed the line?”

“When?”

“On the phone?”

“Okay, duh, but when?”

“Our last session.”

“So that was real.”

Levi actually got off to your voice.

If you weren’t in such shock about sitting here face-to-face with him at a local bar, then perhaps your ego would have, in fact, made a crash landing on Mars.

He considers his next words very carefully. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Then he sips more before shaking his head.

“Look. It’s… a job a friend of mine got me. I’m not a real-life Casanova or any of that shit. Hell, most of my time was spent training punks to fight in a boxing ring, so I never had the energy for relationships or dating.”

You can't hide your surprise. “You were a fighter?”

He makes a noncommittal face.

“Loosely. Personal trainer, training in general — fell into it after I got out of the service.”

“Right, you were in the army,” you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.

“A couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought I’d try it out. Guess everyone says it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but bossing fighters around and fielding horny-ass callers ain't all that different."

Levi turns his chin just so to regard you under a wispy black fringe.

“I can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, they’re in and out."

He takes a pause.

"You, though — the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.”

You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything he’s telling you.

"First night we spoke, actually, I ended up at this very bar to contemplate why the fuck I wanted you to call back. Didn't want you blowing your money on it, obviously, it's overpriced and ridiculous, but — it clearly shook me up enough for me to take then ten-minute walk in the middle of the night in the first place."

Ten minutes.

That length of time strikes something in you.

“So, your… office building isn’t far?” you slowly ask.

Levi shakes his head. “No, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldn’t do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder. 

“My apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.”

Ten minutes away, is your implication.

His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.

His eyes narrow. 

“The complex on Junction Ave?”

“Yeah," you say.

“Right across from—”

“The Reiss deli.”

That narrowed gaze shoots wide. “You’re shitting me.”

“You say the word shit a lot.”

“Baby, I live there,” he blurts.

“Wait, what?”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

(You’re too shocked to even process what he called you.)

He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.

“You gotta be fucking with me.”

“I’m not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?”

“You said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,” Levi states. “Do you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didn’t think we’d have the same one.”

Holy shit.

Oh, holy shit.

You sit up taller in your seat. “Wait, what floor?”

“Sixteenth.”

“I’m on the tenth!” you exclaim in your shock. “Holy shit, so you…”

Have been right above me this entire time.

Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought. 

Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annie’s message over your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?

Right.

You’re here with friends.

“Friends wondering where you are?” Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

You swipe the screen north and type a reply.

[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.

Annie’s reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Levi’s view in mortification.

[A. LEONHART]: 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????

[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!

[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted

[A. LEONHART]: i’ll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar

“Looks urgent.”

“Huh?” 

You shoot a glance back up to Levi, who’s now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top. 

“No! No. It’s just my friend Annie. She — is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,” you confess.

Levi hums in that delicious way you’ve come to crave. 

“I don’t want to derail your evening. I’ve already taken you away from them for a while.”

Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself. 

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay,” you quietly state. “I… liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole — you know.”

He nods once, setting his drink down. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to disappear, either. My job’s not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, but…”

Levi trails off, sighing heavily.

“...but I also understand if it’s just a fantasy, for you.”

Something nestles itself between the lines of his words. 

Something he isn’t saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.

“Do you really mean that, Levi?”

That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies. 

“Damn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.

You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.

“So Levi’s your real name?”

He nods.

“Not creative enough to come up with an alias."

Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.

"But to answer your question, I’m saying I… yeah, I mean it. I wouldn’t mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day — no pun intended.”

Are you seriously hearing what he’s saying right now?

Does Levi want to step out of a fantasy and into your reality?

Your lips part with a million questions only to end up blurting a very stupid one: 

“Are you single?”

That earns a bark of a laugh, causing his head to gloriously drop back, exposing his neck.

(All you want to do is sink your teeth into it.)

“Yes. Very,” he promises. “Are you, still?”

“Very,” you promise back.

“And my job doesn’t bother you?”

You haven't quite gotten that far, logistically, but it's only a coffee.

He isn't asking to marry you.

Besides, he talks about it like any other office job. You can't find any ill feeling toward it.

“Work is work,” you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, it’s unconventional, but… I’m so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing what’s good for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.”

Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over. 

You smile in return, sipping your drink.

It's the truth.

He may not really know you, but he knows you.

Just as you're beginning to think you know him.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

He steals a ballpoint pen from a dampened closed check from his left side.

Then he snatches a napkin from one of the bartending stations with lemons, limes, and straws.

Hunching over, he scribbles on said napkin, before turning a cheek to you.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow morning—”

Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top. 

His skin is smooth. 

Heated. 

Your entire body melts to his whim as he turns your wrist over, palm facing up.

One by one his fingers unfurl your fingers, nestles the napkin in your hand, then closes your fist for safe keeping.

“—give me a call.”

Leaving a twenty on the bar counter, Levi lets go of your hand to slip off of his stool.

You say nothing as you watch him give you one last once-over, expression full of admiration, before turning into the sea of people.

A call.

Flexing your hand, you uncrinkle the napkin to read the number etched black on white.

Not the Scout Services Hotline.

No — his number.

Your attention flies back to the original spot where you've now properly abandoned your friends, but you know they'll forgive you for your absence.

Annie knows.

She'll cover for your abrupt disappearance.

On autopilot you yank out your phone, bypassing the texts from your friends, emails from work, and tap the little telephone icon.

Zero through nine appear.

Hastily you type the number, hesitation long gone, and press send.

One ring.

Two.

By the third, it abruptly cuts. You hear shuffling in the background. Cars beeping.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

Levi Ackerman.

Knowing his full name warms your heart.

Standing from your stool, you rise to your toes to search the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Levi stands there on the sidewalk, holding his phone up to his ear.

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

Immediately he turns to the bar, searching the very same window.

Searching for you.

You smile to yourself.

"My schedule just opened up. I know it's a little late for some coffee, but..."

Trailing off, your teeth catch your bottom lip.

Be selfish.

"Are you free for some tea now?”

.

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

How are we feeling, Hotliner Nation? I teased that this may not be the end of this story. I'm not against writing a sequel, whether to continue the immediate story or time skip, but I wanted to see what people thought before I spoke too soon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed our hotline journey together.

In the meantime I invite you to follow me here or subscribe to my AO3, as I have other projects in the works (including finishing the final chapters of my canon-based amnesia au with Levi, Silver Underground.)

The last two months have been such a wonderful journey, and I thank every single one of you for engaging the way you have. I never anticipated such a frenzy when I started P4, so sincerely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you for the comments, reblogs, inbox mssgs, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

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

It's up now! <3

Hi, love!! Are you gonna upload next week?? 🙈🙈

yes ☺️ i’m done writing it i’m just fixing the plot of the rest of the story atm. thank u for the wait!

Hii, when is the next update of expendable hearts??? (I REALLY LOVE IT SO MUCHHH)

HELLOOOO ☺️ Thank you for the interest! I’m still writing chapter 4 but I’ll do my best to update before July ends! I’m so so glad you love it. <333

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

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