Levi X Reader - Blog Posts

my fav yapper x listener duo

I don't know why and I hope it's not a bad thing, but I'm actually TEARY right now?? Reading this?? Oh man, this is so sweet beyond words. Thank you.

Levi didn’t care for the mall. It was an obnoxious place and simply put, it gave him a headache. So when you asked him to come with you to pick up a pair of new shoes, he begrudgingly accepted.

You got your shoes with no problem, and Levi was looking forward to finally getting home. That’s when your eyes lit up at the sight of a photobooth; he didn’t know what was so exciting, but when you dragged him inside he rolled his eyes and followed.

The second you pushed some coins inside the slot, your arms flew around his neck and you pressed your cheek against his, smiling ear to ear with that toothy grin that made his heart flutter.

Ignoring the snapping of the camera, his eyes strayed to you. A smile crept onto his face, before you gently cupped his cheek and moved his face so he was looking at the camera.

A protective arm looping around your waist, he allowed you to hold onto him for dear life, and a warm feeling spread across his chest.

For the first time he could remember, he was smiling for a picture.

The photo strips were precious. On the first one, Levi’s looking his usual, grumpy self, then you watch as he begins to smile, mesmerised by your face. In the next picture, you’re redirecting his face to the camera; then finally, the perfect picture of you two smiling.

-

Months had passed, and you’d almost forgotten the whole thing. That was until the morning of your anniversary- he handed you a photo, small enough to fit in your wallet.

The picture is of him and you, cheek to cheek, his arm around your waist and yours around his neck. The rare smile on his face is small, not wide and sunny like yours, but the content look in his eyes communicates everything it needs to.

Inked on the white space below the picture, with his blue fountain pen and smooth handwriting, it tells you what he’s always thinking.

Yours forever, Levi.

A Conversation about the Sky (EreMika Fanfic)

Summary: Mikasa doesn't even notice the tightening of her fingers around his arm, or that her breathing is uneven, or that her legs and arms and her whole body is frozen and she should probably calm her heart down, but the only thing on her mind is he is here, a mantra that keeps on repeating in her head. He's here. He's here. He's here. He's really here. A smile lights up upon his face and it makes her cry even more. "Mikasa." He tries to say it with ease but his voice cracks in the middle as though he hasn't said her name for years.

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Warning: Spoilers, Angst, Emotional hurt/comfort, Canonical Character death, References to Depression, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Kissing, Making out.

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The back of a head is the first thing Mikasa sees after she opens her eyes and it takes her a moment before she can register that it is an unruly mess of brown hair on the head. It is too familiar, the shape of the head, the thin strands of the hair and how many times she has searched for this specific hair color in a sea of other colors. And she can just about imagine how it would look tied into a little ponytail as though it was a sixth sense in and of itself.

"Eren?"

She shouldn't say his name, because the figure in front of her could be anyone, but she does anyway.

The figure doesn't move an inch.

"Eren?"

His name rolling off of her tongue has always been a naturality on its own right but right now, it feels strange. As if she should have been calling his name all this time.

But didn't I?

Her arm lifts itself up, or maybe it is of her own accord, she doesn't know anything anymore, other than the fact that there is a sudden desire to touch this figure in front of her. To just have a feel of that hair, or cling onto those tattered-looking clothes, or even just a touch of the nape of his neck.

The figure is startled the moment her fingers come into contact with a little piece of his cloth, shoulders jerking up, and his body tenses up.

"Eren?" Mikasa's voice comes out as a whisper, but he nonetheless hears it. The way his ears perk up at the mention of his name remains the same, and she thinks it is as though he might get a command from someone any time now.

Please …

What? Please, what?

I don't know but please …

"Eren?" Her grip is on his arm now, too greedy for her own good but she must satisfy her hunger. She couldn't help it anymore, she has to see his face, so she twists him around and tries to locate those green as grass eyes of his until she realizes that she doesn't have to search. The pair of eyes are staring right down at her.

Mikasa is unable to open her mouth anymore so she leaves it be, her hands coming up to cover them and she can feel the slight tremble of her lips. Her thumb collects a tear that runs off on its own as a noise that sounds like a cry arose from somewhere. It isn't until later that she realizes it came from her own throat.

Those boyish facials she has spent her whole life looking after, taking care of the many scars and bruises it received due to his reckless habit of jumping face first into fights whether it concerned him or not, and the hair she remembers she based her own out of because it was the closest and only thing she could imagine that could guide the scissor in her hand, the mouth that cried out her name and it was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.

Eren is here in flesh.

Mikasa doesn't even notice the tightening of her fingers around his arm, or that her breathing is uneven, or that her legs and arms and her whole body is frozen and she should probably calm her heart down, but the only thing on her mind is he is here, a mantra that keeps on repeating in her head.

He's here.

He's here.

He's here.

He's really here.

A smile lights up upon his face and it makes her cry even more. "Mikasa." He tries to say it with ease but his voice cracks in the middle as though he hasn't said her name for years.

Mikasa is vaguely aware of her next movement: the wetness of her hands and cheeks is the first thing she notices but then she finds herself planting her hands all over his face, fingers crawling every nook and cranny, behind the ears, his scalp, under his jaw, half because she wants to make sure this isn't a cursed dream and half because there might be injuries hidden somewhere and she wants to be the one to treat it.

(To read more, go here.)