Aika🌼

Characters: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Summary: Modern day with a twist of the supernatural. You live an ordinary life on paper. But lately, your dreams have turned strange. You see swords. Blood. A boy with stormy eyes and trembling hands. A name you don’t recognize… but your heart aches for him.

Chapter Three: Find Him Again

That night you didn’t sleep well. Dreams chased you through the night from half-formed flashes of places you’ve never been, names you don’t recognize, and eyes that felt familiar. Not quite his but haunting in a way that stirred something in your chest. Over and over, you saw your hands reaching for something and never quite catching. You woke tangled in your sheets, heart racing like you were late for something you didn’t remember agreeing to.

The morning was gray, the sky outside your window a dull wash of silver. You moved slowly, dragging yourself through the motion's tea, hair, coat, keys everything tinged with the distant weight of something unfinished. You didn’t speak much at work. No one pushed you. Even Hange, intuitive as ever, only glanced at you now and then but didn’t say a word.

You told yourself you were tired. But the truth clung to your ribs like fog

You couldn’t stop thinking about all of it. The book. The store. Him.

At first, they were all tangled together in your mind, each thread pulling at the next. But now, more and more, it was him. The way he looked at you not with surprise, not even curiosity. But like he remembered something. Like you were the ghost of a thought he’d held onto for far too long.

That evening, you walked home again. On purpose. Past the same dim corners, the old record store, the florist with the closed shutters. Just to see that the bookstore was closed.

You stood across the street for a while, coat zipped high, and collar pulled to your chin. Just watching. Just wondering. The sign in the window hand-painted, elegant rocked gently in the breeze. No lights. No silhouette behind the glass.

Still, you whispered to the dark storefront: “I came back.” And then you left.

That night the dreams came again.

They sharpened became clearer with every night. You were running through a golden field, breathless and laughing. Someone was behind you, or maybe beside you. You could never quite turn your head fast enough to see. There was a warm hand in yours and a distinct sensation of knowing you were safe.

Then a flash Water. Blood on stone. A name carved into something ancient and cracked with time.

You woke up shaking, your pillow damp. You reached for your journal without thinking. You hadn’t written in weeks. But now, the pen moved like it had been waiting for your hand.

You scribbled it all down. The field. The warmth. The ache. And three words you couldn’t explain: Find him again.

A week passed. The rain returned. You didn’t plan to stop by. You told yourself you were just walking.

But when you turned the corner, the bookstore was open.

The door stood slightly ajar, the little brass bell above it chiming softly in the breeze. The warm scent of cedar and dust drifted toward you like a welcome.

You stepped in. And he was there.

Behind the counter this time, sorting a stack of old poetry volumes like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He looked up as the bell rang. For a moment, nothing passed between you except the low hum of music on vinyl and the sound of the rain tapping the windows.

Then he smiled not the full kind, just the ghost of one tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You came back.” You nodded, voice quiet. “I did.”

He closed the book gently, sliding it aside. “I thought maybe I made you up.” You didn’t laugh. “I thought the same.”

There was a silence then one of those still, full ones that didn’t demand to be filled.

You looked around, fingers trailing along the edge of the counter. “So… is this place new?”

Levi glanced toward the back wall, where a faded, worn photograph was placed. A man in a weathered coat, with a sharp look and steady eyes.

“No, it’s not,” he said. “My uncle used to run it. Kenny.”

You looked over at the photograph and raised an eyebrow. “Your uncle ran a bookstore?”

He gave a small, dry laugh. “Not exactly the type you’d expect. He didn’t have much patience for nonsense. Always blunt, always sharp. But deep down… he cared about this place more than he’d admit. Kept the best books tucked away, even if the shop looked like chaos to everyone else.”

You smiled. “Sounds like quite the character.”

“Yeah,” Levi said quietly. “He had his ways. Left it to me when he passed. I guess he trusted me to keep it alive.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of that legacy between you.

After a moment, you asked gently, “So, what’s your name?”

He looked at you, steady and calm. “Levi.”

You smiled softly. “It’s nice to meet you, Levi.”

Levi’s gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer before he said, “I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime. Maybe a café or something.”

Your heart skipped. “I’d like that.”

Sorry for the late update everyone! I hope everyone is having a good day, also I'm working on my request that I've gotten, and I should have the first chapter posted next week! lmk if you have any suggestions

Taglist

∙ Please leave a comment if you'd like to be tagged for each new part of Soul Bound, and other posts that directly connect to the story. Check your settings and make sure you're able to be tagged in posts!

Started: 5/30/25

Last Updated: 5/31/25

AOT

Series

Levi Ackerman

Soul bound

In which Gabi has an older sister who was Colt's girlfriend. She worked cleaning houses or establishments to help support the household. Gabi's sister had her own cleaning supplies and a floor polisher that she would take to clean. She worked at the Tybur household and some Marleyan families.

Gabi wants to set her sister up with Levi. Gabi doesn't want to see the former captain get so lonely and her sister is the best option for a girlfriend and future wife. So, she recommends her sister to help clean the tea house. She meets Levi's cleaning standards, which surprises him as he watches her wax the floor before using the floor polisher. Levi had never seen this type of machine. Little by little, they got to know each other better.

I'll leave the development to you.

Thanks for replying. Don't rush to write. Take your time.

Characters: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Summary: Modern day with a twist of the supernatural. You live an ordinary life on paper. But lately, your dreams have turned strange. You see swords. Blood. A boy with stormy eyes and trembling hands. A name you don’t recognize… but your heart aches for him.

Chapter Two: Fated Threads

The evening air carried the smell of wet pavement and the hum of distant traffic. You arrived home just before sunset, the sky blushing soft rose and gold through your apartment window. you took off your damp coat and slung it over the coat rack.

The quiet of your apartment should have comforted you. Usually, it did. But tonight, it felt different, the silence felt heavy.

You laid on the couch longer than you meant to. Not asleep, just still. That bookshop. That man. The book you didn’t buy. You didn’t know what was bothering you more the way he looked at you like he was trying to remember where he’d seen you before… or the way some part of you already knew him.

As you aimless laid still your eyes slowly began to drift, and you fell asleep.

Morning came, and You began getting ready for the day.

You made your tea, tied your hair up, grabbed your tote and headed off to work. You worked at a design studio downtown in Marketing mostly, with a small team of friends who blurred the line between coworkers and family. You liked it. It gave you purpose, and belonging.

But by midday, you hadn’t touched your project.

"Hey," someone called from behind their monitor. Hange, her closest friend at the studio, leaned over with a furrowed brow. "You good? You’ve been staring at your monitor like it stole something from you."

You blinked. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. Just tired."

"Did something happen?"

You hesitated. Thought about the bookstore, about the strange man. But how do you explain a feeling that doesn’t make sense?

"No. Just… weird dreams, lately."

Hange gave you a look, not buying it, but let it go. "Come out with us after work. Dinner’s on Moblit. He just landed a new client."

You smiled. "Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

Hange looked at you for a second with a concerned face.

“Are you sure? We can wait for you.”

“Yeah, I still need to clear off my desk.” You replied.

“Okay. we’ll see you there.”

Not long after, you cleaned off your desk and grabbed your bag before heading out for the night, unsure if the heaviness in your chest would follow you.

The restaurant was a tiny place tucked between an old antique shop and a florist, but at night, it transformed into a local favorite buzzing with clinking glasses, music low and warm, the kind of spot that regulars claimed as their own.

Hange was already two beers in when you arrived, waving dramatically from a corner booth with Moblit trying (and failing) to keep her volume in check.

"You’re late!" Hange grinned, sliding a menu toward her. "Moblit bet you bailed. I said you were too polite to ghost us. I’m glad you came."

Moblit gave her a tired look. "I said she might be busy. That’s different."

"I almost was," you said, easing into the booth with a tired smile. "But I figured you'd send Hange to hunt me down if I didn’t show."

"Damn right I would’ve." Hange raised her glass. "One beer, two threats, and three wild theories while we waited. You missed a lot."

Moblit muttered, "Too much."

You laughed genuine this time, brief but warm and picked up the menu, trying to focus. "What wild theories?"

"That the moon has been getting closer to earth or Mike is a sleeper agent who activates when he hears classical music," Hange replied instantly. "Moblit thinks the moon one’s true I say Mike is a sleeper agent."

"The Mike one," you echoed, without thinking. "Definitely."

Moblit rolled his eyes. "Traitors. Both of you."

The conversation moved on, bright and easy, but even as you listened, your mind drifted. That voice in the bookstore, the look in his eyes it lingered. You shook it off, smiling when Hange shoved her beer your way and demanded a taste.

You smiled and sat, letting the noise and laughter pull you in. Your friends laughed loud and talked over one another, debating something about time travel and other conspiracies.

She laughed with them but a part of her felt detached, like she was watching herself from across the table.

As the customers slowly sifted out your friends eventually called it a night with moblit supporting hange body as she’d drank a few too many beers tonight.

You waved goodbye and headed in the opposite direction.

On the walk home, the city was quieter. The sky had gone navy, and the streets shimmered under the streetlights. You took the long way without thinking, turning down the lane where the bookshop sat.

The lights inside were low, flickering faintly against the window glass.

He was there.

Not a ghost of memory but real. Turning a key in the lock, one hand braced against the doorframe. That same posture. That same quiet tension in his shoulders, like he was always ready for something to go wrong.

You stopped in your tracks.

He didn’t see you. Or maybe he did because just before he turned to go, his head lifted slightly. Eyes meeting yours across the dimly light street. Just for a moment.

You didn’t move.

He didn’t smile.

But he stood there, watching you, like he was waiting for you to say something first.

And then he turned, disappeared into the night.

Thank you so much for reading my fanfic! I appreciate all of the love and support. I’ll post chapter three on Monday, also I’m open to any suggestions or even requests❤️

Hello! This is my first fanfic so please be nice... anyways enjoy!

Characters: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Summary: Modern day with a twist of the supernatural. You live an ordinary life on paper. But lately, your dreams have turned strange. You see swords. Blood. A boy with stormy eyes and trembling hands. A name you don’t recognize… but your heart aches for him.

Chapter One: Eyes I’ve Met Before

The bookstore was small, dusty, and quite tucked into a corner of a street most people didn’t bother to notice. You weren’t supposed to be there. You’d been on your way to the post office when the rain started, sudden and cold. A hand-painted sign reading "Time forgets Faces" had caught your eye just as the first drop hit your cheek.

As you walked into the old bookstore.

You noticed it smelled like old paper and cedar wood. Jazz played faintly in the background, barely audible over the soft patter of rain against the glass windows. You wandered without purpose, letting your fingers drift over the worn spines until they paused on one.

"Echoes of the Soul: A History of Reincarnation."

You frowned, thumbing through the yellowed pages. Words leapt out at you. Soulmates. Memory. Lives lived over and over. Your heartbeats faster, like something forgotten was trying to push its way forward.

"Interesting choice."

The voice was low. Rough like smoke, and somehow... familiar.

You turned. The man beside you looked like he’d been pulled out of a different world. Sharp eyes, steel gray. The kind that saw everything and gave nothing away. His black hair was slightly tousled, but his posture was rigid, controlled. He wasn’t tall, but his presence made up for it.

He nodded to the book in your hands. "You believe in that stuff?"

You opened your mouth, but no sound came. There was a tug in your chest a flicker of something. Recognition. Longing. Fear?

"I don’t know," you said finally. "Do you?"

His jaw tightened. He looked away. "No."

But he lingered. Like he didn’t want to leave.

His name was called from the front. A man in a brown uniform stood in the doorway with a box that looked quite heavy. He cleared his throat before responding with a simple “yes?” You murmured a thank you and turned to go, but the man was still watching you. Like he was trying to remember something he’d once promised to never forget.

And as you walked away, you realized.

You never told him your name.

But somehow, some part of you were certain

He already knew it.

As you stepped back out onto the quiet street; The rain had slowed down since entering the store. You hadn't meant to stay so long in the bookshop, but time had melted inside those walls, bending around you like the memory of a half-forgotten dream.

You hadn’t even bought the book, but the title still echoed in your head like a whisper. You told yourself it didn’t matter. That it was just a coincidence. That the man with StormCloud eyes was just another stranger.

Still, your steps felt heavier now. Like the world outside had shifted ever so slightly beneath you.

The post office sat at the far end of the block, its windows fogged up from the weather. You ducked under the overhang, shook the rain from her coat, and stepped inside. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting everything in a pale, too-bright glow.

Back to reality.

There was a small queue. An old woman with a mauve umbrella. A teenager mailing something covered in stickers. You stood quietly behind them, absently tapping the front of your bag. The warmth you were feeling had begun to fade.

That man’s voice still echoed in her chest.

"Do you believe in that stuff?" "No."

But he’d lied. She was almost sure of it.

When it was her turn, she slid the small parcel across the counter with a practiced smile the clerk proceeded to ask about the letter being sent. She nodded, distracted.

As you finished at the post office she walked out again into the cool, misty afternoon, you paused under the awning and looked back the way you came. The bookstore wasn’t visible from here, but she could feel it.

Maybe you’d go back tomorrow.

And maybe he would be there, too.

Thank you for reading! I'll probably continue writing this story I don't know how long I'll make it, but we'll see. Have a good day!