Levi x Reader Oneshots

Moving Day (Levi x Germaphobe Reader Modern AU)

It was two weeks before moving day when you injured your ankle, and the doctor told you to take it easy for at least a month. This diagnosis was problematic, because you and Levi had been planning to rent a truck and move everything yourselves. However, with you barely able to walk, let alone haul furniture and boxes all day long, that plan went out the window.

Levi tried to insist that he could do everything himself, but you refused to let him. Sure, he was the strongest person you had ever met, but there were certain things – like the couch or the dining table – that were just too bulky. Thus, with no small amount of grumbling from Levi, the two of you hired a moving company.

The morning of the move, you went to your new house to start cleaning, while Levi stayed behind to make sure the movers got everything out of your old house. You were kind of obsessive when it came to cleanliness – and you especially hated germs – so you wanted to take the opportunity to sanitize the new place before you started putting your stuff in it.

Realistically speaking, it was probably a stretch to call your penchant for cleanliness a disorder or a phobia, even though that was how you often referred to it. You weren't so dysfunctional that you couldn't go outside, or anything like that. Mostly, you just wanted your home to be germ-and-dirt-free, because that was supposed to be your safe haven, your retreat from the rest of the world. And it was difficult to relax in a place that wasn't sanitary.

Levi didn't mind, as he was a certified clean freak himself. Actually, he was quite grateful that you were doing this, since you were the only other person whose cleaning skills he trusted. Thus, he sent you off with kiss and a stern, "Don't strain your ankle."

The new house seemed pretty clean already, but you weren't about to take any chances. You swept, dusted, and scrubbed every surface until it was all sparkling. Just as you were finishing up, Levi and the movers arrived with the truck.

To be honest, the thought of strangers touching your stuff bothered you, because who knew how clean they were? You could just picture the germs, the sticky handprints, etc. – and the images gave you anxiety. However, when you hired the moving company, you told yourself that you could deal with it for Levi's sake, because you didn't want him to move everything alone. You also tried to placate yourself with the fact that you would simply spray everything with disinfectant after the movers left.

Levi was busy carrying boxes inside, so you were the one who told the movers where to put everything – under strict orders from Levi that you were not to move anything yourself. Thus, you stood off to the side and pointed them in one direction or the other, and watched quietly while they assembled the furniture. You were doing a pretty good job of controlling your anxiety, until you saw something too egregious to ignore.

While the movers were assembling the bed that you and Levi slept in, you were disgusted to observe that one of them was dripping sweat onto your carpet, and he didn't even have the decency to towel off. It was incredibly uncomfortable to watch, and you felt like you were going to be sick. At the same time, the movers seemed like really nice people, so you didn't want to embarrass them by saying anything. Thus, you made a mental note of the spot and promised yourself that you would scrub and spray it later – multiple times.

It was mid-afternoon when the movers finally left. You immediately followed through with your plan of disinfecting all your stuff – having to wear a mask because there were so many chemicals in the air. But even then, you felt uncomfortable. What if you missed something?

You tried to reassure yourself that you had cleaned everything thoroughly, but it was no use – your anxiety couldn't be quelled. On top of that, when you looked around and saw how many boxes you had to unpack, how much was left to do...your mood plummeted through the floor. It was overwhelming.