Private Detective Levi x Reader (AU) Part 3

((Contains Swearing / Forced Intimacy))


You spoke to levi for a while that night, telling him every detail you could think of as he fired seemingly endless questions at you. You left at 11.30pm and arranged to be back the next morning.


8am. You knock on the office door and wait.

Silence.

Not even so much as a peep from inside. You knock again, louder.

Still nothing.

...Did he forget your appointment? Biting your lip in frustration, you look down at the handle and decide to see if you can at least jimmy it. You go to turn the knob, and there is an instant click. The door opens. Why wasn't it locked? You wonder for a moment about a possible burglary, but as you gently push the door open, your eyes fall on something which makes your blood boil.

You see him straight away, on the sofa by the window. He lies splayed-out on his front, his forehead resting on one arm, the other, draped down to the floor, fingertips lightly curled round the neck of an empty vodka bottle.

So, he never left.

You sigh in exasperation, almost tempted to kick something - maybe him. You don't have time for this! “Levi.” you snap.

No response. His breathing is heavy and slow.

You scowl at his lifeless form for a moment, before turning and shoving the door. The resulting slam is ear-splitting, and you watch as Levi’s body tenses in response.

He doesn't need to open his eyes, he knows it’s you.

“Fucking brat.” he mumbles, the words barely decipherable under his breath.

“Get up.” you snap, walking over and snatching the empty bottle from his loose grasp “In case it hasn't dawned on you, nothing has changed. My friend is still very much in danger! The first pint of blood arrived today.”

“Tch.” he spits, still refusing to open his eyes “It’s fine. Average human holds ten litres of blood. We’ve still got time.”

You chuck the bottle to one side, the sharp crack as it hits the floor making the man jump. “Get. Up.” you repeat, going to pull him up.

Before you can reach him though, his eyes suddenly flash open and an arm whips out, grabbing your wrist. Without warning, he swiftly yanks and you jerk forward, instantly loosing your balance as you fall forwards. Suddenly, he sits up on his knees and draws back as you collapse face-first into the place where he previously lay. You roll onto your back, but before you can drag yourself up, Levi’s hands appear either-side of your head and you feel his full weight on top of your body. You struggle against him, but it doesn’t work. He may look lean and stocky in appearance, but god is the man strong!

“Princess,” he growls, his eyes dark and furious as he holds himself above you “In case it hasn't dawned on you, I am not a morning person.” He flicks his gaze towards the clock on the wall marking 8am, before turning the full force of his glare back onto you “I managed to get to sleep two fucking hours ago.”

“That’s not my damn problem!” you snarl, reaching up to push at his chest.

He doesn't move an inch. The man is built like a rock!

He exhales sharply and lowers himself so that your faces are only inches apart. “Guess what.” he growls, “You hired me, brat. That means that I, am now your problem.”

You can feel a blush rushing to your cheeks at the man’s close proximity, but you refuse to look away. You will not back down. “I hired you to do a job. To save my friend. And yet I don't see you even attempting to complete it!” he's too heavy for you to try and move, so you go to slap him, hoping that it might have some sort of effect.

You quickly regret the decision though, as the man darts back and catches your wrist, his grip vice-like as he pins your hand back next to your head, quickly doing the same with your other. Shit. For a non-morning person, his reflexes are extremely sharp.

“Listen,” he says, deliberately making his words slow, as if speaking to an infant “Humans. Hold. Ten litres. Of blood. ...That’s ten goddamn days! Calm the fuck down. I said I’d see the case through, and that’s what I intend to do.”

You scoff, wriggling under his weight. “Sure,” you say “and I’ll believe that when I see it! Now get the hell off of me, unless you want my check...to...” Your words slowly taper off, because it suddenly dawns on you that levi’s eyes are no longer set on yours. Instead, his fierce gaze has slipped and his eyes are now fixed unwaveringly on your lips.

You hold still, not completely sure how to react. You’ve been caught off guard, but so has he.

He doesn't move, his body tense. He stinks of alcohol, but admittedly, he’s still stupidly handsome in his disheveled state.

Part of you wants nothing more than to grab his collar and pull his mouth towards yours. On the other hand, the urge is being out-weighed by the other parts that desperately want to - A: Strangle him for being so ungentlemanly, and B: Slap him for not concentrating on the case that gravely needs attention.

However, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you and as his own lips part slightly, your heart-rate suddenly picks up. He’s breathing heavily, but before you can start to panic, the man blinks and in one quick motion, pulls himself away.

Instantly, you feel the weight of his body lift as he stands up and walks over to the desk. You slowly sit up and run a quick hand through your hair, smoothing over the creases in your clothing.

You look over and Levi has his back to you, leaning with both hands on the desk.

You’re unsure of what to say, and so is he.

After a long moment, the detective sighs, dropping his head “...I’m still...drunk.” he finally manages, his back still to you. It’s a feeble excuse, but at least he’s trying “That was unacceptable. ...I’m sorry.” Sighing again, he straightens out and  walks round the back of the desk. Opening one of the drawers, he pulls out some sheets of paper and chucks them onto the desktop. “I did some research last night,” he says quietly, avoiding your gaze as he looks at the papers. You watch his expression and see a small blush in his cheeks. “I... know who to ask now.” He nods once to himself and without saying anything else, grabs a jacket hanging on the back of the chair and disappears out the door.