#custom luggage tags

[personalizetags123]

Name Stickers for Books - Personalized Book Labels by Chatterbox Labels

Enhance your books with our pack of 20 stylish book label stickers! Choose from 40 vibrant designs and personalize them with your name, grade/division, roll number, and school name. Perfect for keeping track of your books! Shop now for top-notch name stickers for books.

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[thesecondproject]

Spice up your travel style with the best luggage tags for manufacturers!

From durable classics to unique designs, we've got you covered.

Stand out from the crowd: Make your luggage instantly recognizable with vibrant colors, custom logos, and playful patterns.

Say goodbye to lost bags: Choose high-quality materials and secure closures for worry-free travel.

Support sustainable practices: Eco-friendly options like recycled materials and bamboo make a conscious statement.

Tag us in your travel adventures and show off your unique luggage tags! #BestLuggageTags #TravelManufacturers #UpgradeYourTravel

P.S. We also offer bulk discounts and customization options!

Visit our website to discover the perfect luggage tag for your brand! Best Luggage Tags for Travel Manufacturers

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[bespokemedals]

We are one of the top metal craft products companies in the world by growth since 2010. Our extensive product selection is combined with expert service and affordable pricing to create the best buying experience in metal promotional item sector.

Bespoke Medal Ltd. has a QC team that inspects every item before shipping. Annual audits are performed on every department within Bespoke Medal Ltd. to ensure procedures are being followed as we strive for excellence and 100% customer satisfaction.

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[windupsproutdesigngallery]

Custom Luggage Tags: Pink Flamingo, Giraffe, Penguin, Llama, Tulip Flower, Rose, Tartan, Foodie, etc. | Unique Bag Tag Travel Accessories

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[apexgiftprint]

Customised Coasters Singapore - Apex Gifts and Prints

If you are looking to purchase customised coasters in Singapore for your upcoming corporate gifting, you are at the right place. Enquire now!

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[nutcasepersonalizedgifts]

Looking For A Not-Boring Personalized Birthday Gift? – Nutcase India

We are all judged by the gifts we send! If you provide a dull present, such as flowers or cake, the receiver will perceive you as someone who did not want to spend even a few minutes thinking about the gift.

Gifts are a fantastic way to communicate your joy to those you care about. Buying unique presents for loved ones, family and friends, coworkers, or a long-term relationship shows your excitement, support, and admiration for that person. When the receivers discover how much you appreciate, care about, and consider them, they will hold you in high esteem. But have you thought as to what sort of presents make people happy? Personalized gifts by Nutcase are the best option & Customization adds a sense of exclusivity to the fantastic present and gives you trust in it. These gifts also show how much the person loves and cares about you. 

Here are some of suggestions by Nutcase India:

1) Personalized Whiskey Glasses -

When you drink good whiskey in a customized whiskey glass, it tastes much better. If you're seeking for the finest whiskey glasses in India, Nutcase offers the perfect assortment. We can personalize these scotch glasses with your name, monogram, or initials. It might be the coolest gift you could give to the man in your life.

Personalized Whiskey Glasses & Scotch Glasses:

“Shop online for Personalized Whiskey Glasses”

2) Personalized Passport Covers / Luggage Tags:

Travel gifts are getting increasingly popular. However, with the growing popularity of travel-related gifts, it has become more difficult to find something that would stand out from the crowd, be useful in its goal, and have meaning for the person receiving it. This is why we believe that a personalized passport cover & luggage tags online might be the answer to your gift-giving troubles and frustrations. matching coverings for your loved ones to spice up your adventures!

Passport Covers:

Luggage Tags Online:

“Shop online for Personalized Passport Cover & Luggage Tags Online”

3) Personalized Men's Wallet: 

We understand that gifting guys may be difficult, but we can help. Nutcase offers personalized wallets for men. Customize wallets by adding names, alphabets, or symbols. These are made of high-quality vegan leather in masculine shades. Custom wallets for men may quickly make them feel special and joyful!

Custom Wallets For Men:

“Shop online for Personalized Wallet With Name”

4) For Those who love cooking, a Personalized Apron: 

Looking for the ideal gift for the cook or artist in your life? Personalized apron online made to order are excellent presents for anybody! Aprons are ideal for grilling dads, outstanding instructors, and mothers and daughters who like baking together.

“Shop online for Personalized Apron Online”

More About Nutcase India:

At Nutcase we have curated the largest 'not-boring' collection of personalized gifts because we know there is nothing worse than getting oh-so-boring presents. If you are looking for customized gifts for birthdays, friendship or valentine’s day, Christmas, Diwali, or Rakshabandhan - then Nutcase will enthral you with its wide range.

“Shop Online For Customized & Personalized Gifts: https://nutcaseshop.com/”

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[customcroatiashop]

Personalized Luggage Tag Bag ID Suitcase tag Backpack tag Keychain Tag Personalized Tag Personalized Luggage Tag If Found Custom Tag

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[foreverstickerlily77]

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[anlian-aishang]

Tags: levi ackerman x reader, mutual pining [coworkers] to smut, only one bed, non-sexual spitting, alcohol mention, reader wears levi’s shirt, cunnilingus, penetration, modern AU, fem!reader Word count: 10,000 A/N: thank you to @lostinwildflowers for betaing this! Birch is one my writing idols, so I am truly honored. I hope you enjoy <3

This can’t be happening.

Unknowingly, the two of you shared a silent sentiment. After a late taxi, long lines of airport security, and racing to the terminal only to be delayed for several hours, the cherry on the shit sundae - as he would put it - was the midnight arrival to a hotel with only one bed.

“You’re sure?”

The look on the nervous teenager’s face conveyed the answer before he even uttered the question. Still, Levi knew he had to ask, audibly enough for you to hear - just so you would know that he did. In the face of liability, you had to acknowledge that he had tried his best.  

“I’m really sorry, sir.” Their eyes were darting in panic between you and Levi as if you were the antidote to this angry customer. But he wasn’t angry, at least, not at them. Wasn’t the brat’s fault that Erwin booked the wrong room. “I have that in the afternoon of September the 15th, E. Smith booked a single king bed for one adult guest.”

“Two adult guests.”

They shared a lengthy eye contact. From the background, you watched their miscommunication unfold and cringed with secondhand embarrassment. You nearly burst into nervous laughter when they shrugged, “I can provide you with extra complimentary toiletries.”

At his sides, Levi unclenched his fists in defeat, “...We’ll manage.”

The plastic key cards made a satisfying sound as the receptionist slid them across the marble countertop - equal and opposite to the dissatisfaction on Levi’s face. In one smooth motion, he handed you your copy while simultaneously whipping out his cell phone. Two clicks - speed dial and call. Two rings - Erwin answered.

You couldn’t hear the other end, but you had your guesses.

Hello?

“You fucked up.”

Sorry?

“As you should be.”

For what? 

“Stuffing two adults in one bed, what made you think we’d appreciate that accommodation?”

Given the looks you’ve been giving each other at the office, I thought you might. 

Levi violently snapped his phone closed in hopes you couldn’t hear that. Thrusting his phone in his pocket, he used his free hand to snatch luggage from yours. “Give me that.” 

A kind gesture, but irritation in his voice made it confusing. You thought to grab it back and insist that you could handle it, but instead, held your tongue. Clearly, he was steaming. Any objection, even a well-intended one, you doubted it would better his mood. Walking towards the lift, you concluded that nothing you had to say would supply ice to his ire. Though, the walk, time, and your calming presence, seemed to be working, you thought as you watched him delicately pad the UP button. 

In the intimacy of the elevator, Levi allowed himself one venting word, “Idiot.” He sighed, placed his thumb and pointer finger on each of his temples, and rubbed wrinkles into his skin. “As if we haven’t already been through enough.”

Today and long before, the two of you had been through plenty together. Tonight was the first time you would pin it on Erwin. All other times, it had been your own selves and each other to blame. 

He loved the way you looked in those small pencil skirts and see-through tights, but he hated what it did to him. Meetings in which he could only stare, absorbing nothing. In the middle of a phone call, when you walked by, he would forget its purpose and stammer aimlessly. Nights kept awake, staring at his ceiling, a blank canvas for projecting his wandering thoughts: how you would look with the skirt yanked up and the tights pulled down, how you took your outfit off after work, and if you wanted his help with that. 

Countless times, you had cursed the man you crushed on. The way he ran his fingers through his hair when overworked made you want to try it yourself, to take his stressors away - or better yet - serve as the relief to them. On hot days, he loosened his top button. On lucky days, the top two. On his way out the door, he would tug his tie out from under his collar, creating a loop wide enough for you to slip your hand through and use it to pull his lips to yours - or so you imagined. Each day, Levi had fed you tastes. Over time, your craving for him had grown unbearable. 

Ultimately, this out-of-town assignment was a test, and a final exam at that. Years of studying one another were culminating in one night, on one bed. The chime of the elevator interrupted your thoughts as if it was a warning: ground yourself. The plain of Levi’s expression and calm in his pace on the way to room 845 echoed its sense: he was unriled, uninterested. 

Your read was wrong. Levi was thankful that you trailed him: with his back to you, you could not see his rouge tint, the bite of his lip, or the twitch of his cheek. As he pressed his key to the reader, held the heavy hotel door, and slugged both of your belongings atop the desk and dresser, you admired the way he moved so suavely - when actually, he considered his motions stiff, careful, and calculated. 

Neither of you bothered to turn on the light. Taxed bodies, tired eyes, and tempted temperaments shared a desire to finally climb in bed. No need to delay things any longer. Levi unzipped his suitcase, the sound garnered your attention. Immediately, you noticed now neatly he had packed, admired his organization and pristine folds, then planned that when it came your time to unpack, you would aim to shield your messy methods from the clean freak’s vision.

A gray cotton tee - matching his eyes, black sweatpants - same shade as his hair. A navy canvas travel bag topped the pile. Levi leaned effortlessly against the white bathroom door and stated, “I’ll change in here.”

You nodded vehemently, as if he had ordered you on an important mission, “I’ll be out here.” 

Cute. And at that intrusive thought, he silently ducked away. 

Unbuckling his belt, tugging his zipper, freeing his legs from his slacks, Levi tipped his head back against the wall and sighed. Every muscle in his body finally untensed, he was set free from one cage of many. His business-casual confines had been done away with. Now, he just had professionalism, work relationships, and his fucking hormones to maintain. 

His boxer briefs were agitatingly taut, struggling to constrain years’ worth of tension in their cotton threads. Levi looked down to his lap and cursed himself. Hovering around thirty, yet all the composure of a fresh young bachelor. Gradually, Levi hooked his thumb beneath the elastic waistband and loosened just a little, allowing him room to breathe. Too much room maybe as the chill thermostat air contrasted harshly with his warmed passion and drew a loud hiss. Levi clenched his teeth hard in an attempt to bar his vocals, praying to whatever power that you wouldn’t knock on the door and call Levi, you alright? It was just the kind of person you were, and Levi had come to know you well. 

That anxiety turned out to be false, for your ears were ringing: ignorant of his desires, overwhelmed by your own. Gingerly, you unzipped your luggage and fret at the sight: a little black nightgown with lace on the hems. Its sight hit you like a load of bricks, lightning to the thunderous memory of your midnight, sleep-deprived, frantic packing. That woman was giddy for the business trip with her office crush and, in that frenzy, picked her sexiest pajamas for the special occasion. Goddammit! If only you knew that he wouldn’t be seeing it from across the room as a tease, he would be sleeping next to it, maybe even feeling it if one of you crossed your half of the mattress. Cursing yourself, you dug frantically in search of something - anything - else to wear to bed, but were rudely met with only pantsuits and blouses. You bunched your nightgown in your trembling fists, but its thinness and shortness allowed it to fit wholly in your hands - foiling your coping strategy. All you could do was tip your head back and sigh to the ceiling, Fuck me.

That feeling echoed when you draped it over yourself and saw your reflection in the hotel window. Your hair was disheveled from the long day. Makeup smeared and ran down your face, eyeliner to eyeshadow. Wrinkles in your silk dress. Looks like you were already fucked. 

On the other side of the door, Levi was thinking the same thing: he was absolutely fucked. His erection stood high after minutes of waiting. Cold water splashed on his face, but his fever seemed to evaporate it. Trying to think about humbling topics, but he couldn’t get you off his mind. To make his arousal vanish, there was one thing he could do, but there wasn’t enough time for that. Even if the shower were running, Levi doubted that the downpour of water would be able to suppress the noises of slapping skin or his embarrassingly heightened vocals. Fuck. Levi clutched the bathroom countertop and sighed at his reflection. His exhale fogged the mirror just before he hung his head down and conceded. God, help me. 

His prayers ignored, you ended up knocking on the bathroom door eventually: “Levi?”

Every nerve in his body froze. He stammered more times than he would have liked before managing a stern “What?”

“Sorry! I just -” humiliated heat seemed to radiate off of you, “- take your time, I just -”

Half listening, half panicking, Levi seemed not to pay mind to your take your time - stepping into his joggers and throwing on his shirt as fast as he could.

“- can I brush my teeth?”

You were startled when his response was a quick and loud turn of the handle, wordlessly letting you in. Levi was surprised to see you the way you were: temptress dress with a toothbrush and toothpaste innocently perched in each hand. The eye contact lasted for three seconds, but you could have sworn that it was that many years long. 

The twitch of your hands and your heart’s lofty goals placed a dollop of toothpaste twice as big as you normally would. Had to have perfect breath, just in case. Not even just in case, you were going to lay beside him - mere inches away - for the next several hours. In those seconds of pondering, gravity began to spill your toothpaste off the bristles and towards the pristine marble vanity. With haste, you jammed the toothbrush into your mouth, causing you to gag on your device. 

Levi felt his erection press against his waistband and rolled his eyes at his own stupid urges. You assumed that eye roll was for you and offered an innocent grin. Not so innocent, however, was your curiosity. His t-shirt was tight, leaving little to the imagination. One arm’s reach from an array of muscles, you kept your eyes deliberately on the mirror ahead. However, your doppelganger had a mind of her own apparently, gaze falling from eye contact and onto his chest, waist, abdomen. Without even having to turn his head, Levi could see your staring, obviously more obvious than you thought it would be. With your attention on his lower half, Levi allowed himself a smirk. 

Such a silly thing, but was this the first time you brushed your teeth next to someone? This handful of minutes was inexplicably romantic, oddly domestic. Pajamas, double sinks, and the end of a long day. You had been coworkers, acquaintances, and unknowingly requited lovers, but for this one moment, you were husband and wife. 

White toothpaste lined the gap between his top and bottom lip, and for some reason, you felt your knees buckle. Levi ducked down to spit, a polite attempt to hide it. Your eyes rejected his offer, instead widening as your pupils honed in on the sight. Leaning forward ever so slightly, you savored yet loathed the way his rejection ran down the pipe. What a waste. 

Levi sheathed his toothbrush back in its protective case, a neat freak through and through, and slid it back into his tote. Sifting through, he stumbled upon a mini bottle of mouthwash, making him freeze with indecision: added freshness at the cost of spitting in front of you again? He felt that once had already been rude enough. Levi shot you a side-eye and made an unexpected eye contact: he was trying to read you, you were already staring. Mutually miscommunicated guilt, both of you felt you had been caught and snapped back to aversion. 

It came your turn to rinse your mouth, and he couldn’t help it. Levi could have blamed his peripheral vision, could have blamed the bright lights that lined the mirror, but hard-pressed, he could not come up with an excuse for why he watched you then. The streak of white that shot out of your mouth, its wake dribbling down your lips. Goddammit, you cursed your clumsiness and hastily wiped your mess with a washcloth. He knew it as well as you did: he should have been grossed out. Only Levi realized, though, how much he liked it, he was just too ashamed to admit it. 

Though his arousal screamed, his lips stayed silent. There was a time and place.

Was there? You’ve worked together for how long? All those years, they never had a time or place?

A long inhale, a slow exhale, his fingers curled underneath the cold countertop, hoping its chill would thwart the flush of his chest. Fuck how badly he wanted to kiss you then, to thumb that white stain off your chin and into his mouth, to clutch the backs of your thighs and hoist you onto that vanity. Your waist in his hands, your sex in line with his -

“Levi?”

“Yeah?”

His rapid response, you mistook it as anger. While the voice on his shoulder was lust, yours was insecurity. Surely, you’re the last straw. Having to share a bed with a dork like you? He’s had a tough day. Don’t make him endure this.

“Do you want me to take the floor?”

A dumbbell dropped to the pit of his stomach. Of course not, but for you to bring it up, he must have been hasty to assume that you would share the bed. Levi grit his teeth, annoyed with his lofty goals. Two slow blinks, “I can.”

That was the last thing you wanted. “N-No… I don’t - I don’t mean…” Your lips parted in stammer. Eyes darted as if the tile walls would whisper you the answer. For a moment, you cursed the beautiful neutrality of his face: impossible not to love, but impossible to read. His stillness was contagious, though, and brought you to settle on an answer, “I’ll meet you under the sheets.”

Ears burned red as they checked: was that selective hearing or was that what you really said? Before his eyes could study you, you turned on your heel and closed the door shut.

Once again, on opposite sides of the door, your sentiment was shared: Phew. 

He took a few minutes after that. When he finally walked out, he found that you had been lotioning your legs over that time. Dim glow of the bedside lamp reflected on your smooth skin. If not for the way he had come to know you, to respect and appreciate you, this sight could have been the cover of some sketchy magazine. Eagerness glazed your eyes. Your hands had been massaging your inner thighs, now a perfect shield for the gem between your legs. Levi gave the slightest shake of his head, not disapproval, but disbelief. How did you manage such effortless perfection?

Was that not everything about you, though? The most minute smile in meetings. Biting your lip when you were bored. A laugh so beautiful that it served as its own positive reinforcement, beckoning others to amuse you again. Were you the one? 

Or was it the eyes of your beholder? Maybe you weren’t perfect, maybe that’s why you were in his eyes. Despite all the signs of your singlehood - never in a rush to get home, never a mention of a date - he never truly believed it. It was a war of his flawless intuition and steep infatuation. Either you were the one for him, or he had been wrong all these years. 

Get in the bed, idiot. 

His stride was steady, captivating, as he made his way to the side of the bed. In habit, Levi crossed his arms across his torso, prepared to lift up, but caught himself halfway. No, he would not be sleeping shirtless tonight. Neither would he sleep in his loose and breathable boxer shorts, but instead, stifling fleece. Already, for one reason or another, he was sweating. Upon approach, the layers upon layers of sheets, blanket, and comforter looked even more suffocating. He caught a glimpse of the thermostat, but then of you, and found your skin laden with goosebumps. Lips rolled beneath his teeth, bargaining, but he could not bring himself to turn the AC up while your body temperature was down. Just as strongly, he refused to do anything that might make you uncomfortable, like taking off his clothes, no matter how badly he wanted to. More words would have served you both well, tearing down the artificial barrier your doubts were constructing. 

Can I take this off? 

I would love nothing more.

But you were both stupid to imagine that dialogue.

Levi slowly reclined back, sighing as he sunk into the sheets. Already, his skin was burning. He combed his fingers back through his bangs and released a heavy sigh. A heavenly trial, you read it as a hellish endurance, and instinctually apologized, “...I’m sorry about this.”

You have nothing to be sorry for, Levi pondered the response, but deemed it too much. Instead, he feigned a disinterested mumble, “It’s Erwin’s fault.”

You, on the other hand, indulged your gut feeling, “He’s done worse.”

Levi huffed a single exhale, his version of a chuckle.

You turned on your side. He loved that you chose to face him rather than the wall. He hated that he even thought of that. You were so close, he could feel the mattress dip between you, could feel your breath cool against his skin. Eyes fluttering shut, your voice was either sultry or exhausted, a glass-half-full kind of thing. “Good night, Levi.”

Fuck, what a fight, battling the urge to kiss you then and there. Your eyes sparkling, noses nearly touching, he had sworn that this was how all the shitty romcoms went, but he failed to find anything lackluster about this scene. His lips yearned to close that distance, arms ached to perch themselves at your sides. Levi redirected that energy to his hands, fisting the comforter hard as he draped it gently over your shoulders, “Night, (Y/N).”

But how were you going to sleep like this? Although you were running off a 20-hour day, you felt that sleep would be a waste. Queueing for tickets to see your favorite artist, only to close the window the moment your turn came. Styling your hair just to go and get it cut straight after. Champagne dumped down the drain. Mentally, it was an unbearable thought. Physically, your body was even more resistant to the idea. Your middle was fucking throbbing. Nipples stood tall against their skimpy silk covering as if reaching for more contact, his contact. Legs squirmed against one another, trying to smother the burn between them, but you willed them frozen: don’t wake him up. 

In your best state of mind, you would have recalled the symptoms of his insomnia: always a tall thermos of caffeine on his desk, perpetual circles under his eyes, especially the times you both worked late. On your way out, you would peek through the pane of glass on his door to wave good-bye. Now and then, he would be hunched over his desk, imprints of the keyboard on his cheek - a makeshift pillow for his crash naps. With a shred of thought, you would have realized he was likely already awake, but you were incapable of even that. It was midnight when you crawled into the king bed. Red digits at your side now read 1:40 AM, yet you knew that not one of those one-hundred minutes had been spent in sleep. Coffee in the morning, nerves on the plane, hormones now, you had left composure back at your apartment and you weren’t sure you’d get it back at any point of this business trip. I mean shit, you swore, this was only the first night.

Only the first night. One of many sure to come, right? How many nights had he gone to bed alone, kept awake with longing of having you by his side? How many mornings had he woken himself up with a sleepy mumble of your name, only to find one half of his bed empty? It couldn’t all be for nothing. Now that he was sharing the bed with you, it was all he ever wanted, yet you were still out of reach. Uncharacteristic, the most reliable man you knew was spiraling in thought. 

But to you, it would make sense: the only one who could bring Levi Ackerman down was none other than himself. He saw it a different way: you were the only one who could dismantle him like this.

You could feel his heat emanating, could see his sweat reflecting. Before you could stop yourself, your affection had boiled over, “Levi…” your voice was hoarse, having gone hours without as much as a whisper, and unexpectedly loud. His silver gaze drifted to you, depleting the last of your reserves, you mused, “...you’re hot.”

A statement, not a question. In near pitch blackness, he allowed himself a rare smirk. Levi waited until it faded to turn towards you. 

You pinched the hem of his shirt in your fingertips, nails accidentally scraped his abdomen on the way. “Want this off?” You tugged lightly, “I don’t mind.”

At the same time, you shivered, and Levi filled in the blanks to ground his wandering mind. “Cold?” His hands brushed yours on the way to the bottom of the garment. Levi bunched fists in his fabric and lifted it effortlessly up, over, off his head - as he wanted to do all those hours ago. Pent-up relief, he thrust his shirt to you and offered, “Could’ve just asked.”

You were right all along. All along, those loose button-up shirts had covered a chiseled body. He must have been curling with arms like that. A pull-up bar on the back of his bedroom door, how many repetitions did it take to get these muscles? Your eyes scanned every inch of him but could find not one flaw. Your lips were moving, but words failed to emerge. There were a million things you wanted to say to him, to tell him, but only one came through. You received his gift gingerly and muttered, “Thanks.”

This was a moment you had distantly fantasized over for years. Turns out, this was even better than you dreamed. His shirt carried a garden of mint, lavender, and tea leaves in its scent. In putting it on, you felt that you gained a glimpse into Eden. The fabric was satin soft and sheer thin. In watching you wear it, Levi felt in the presence of an angel. It highlighted the curves he loved and introduced him to ones he had never noticed before. Brows narrowed, pupils dilated in his gaze - concerned and deviant. The straight cut forced your waist and hips to confine. The small-pattern chest was clearly never meant to accommodate a body like yours. Threads were spread taut by your cleavage, nearly torn apart as they strained to cover you. In his eyes, he thought it fit you perfectly. 

Arms finally through the sleeves. Beneath them, your hairs stood on end. Again, you shivered, but could not pinpoint why. It did not take the shiver, though, to convey your state. Your erect points stood above all. Levi looked to you with both pity and admiration, his voice their lovechild: “Look at you.”

You simmered, embarrassed yet teasing, “Looking isn't helping.” You crossed your arms before your chest and bundled yourself together, “If you really care -”

He did.

“- then do something about it.”

Unfolding the quilt from the foot of the bed, turning up the room’s temperature - those were the most straightforward solutions. But Levi was not thinking straight, and he had a feeling that was what you wanted. Slowly, Levi sifted his arm behind your shoulders, when you snuggled in, he sealed his wrap with a hand at your side. 

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

His gaze descended to meet yours. Likewise, you raised your gaze to meet. Painfully aware that this was a first for the both of you - neither his passion nor your arousal would shut up about it. At the same time, watching you shiver reminded him of all the times he had silently substituted your needs. Behind on work, you never asked for assistance, but would hurriedly throw things his way if Levi offered his help. When your car wouldn’t start that one winter day, who knows how long you would’ve paced in the parking lot had he not pulled his sedan beside yours and given you a jump? A sharp pang seized his heart in realization: he thought you were close, and now you were physically there, yet you still were not comfortable enough to ask him for anything - even though you both wanted it.

“Y’know,” his thumb rubbed your shoulder, “you should learn to just ask for what you want.” 

Indeed, 2 AM haze was shrouding his awareness, too - particularly his self-awareness. Was it not him who steeped your tea in the mornings and tidied your desk before he left each night? He could have - should have - just asked you out all those times. How much sooner would this night have come if he had? Levi swore to live without regrets, but that did not stop him from acknowledging the opportunities he had missed thus far. He tossed you the takeaway he wished he had learned long ago: “Makes things a lot easier.”

At first, you thought he was chastising you. The stern monotone of his voice could chill you to the bone at times, but when you took in his expression, you felt warm all over. His brows were not knit, but perched in a tender lift. His breaths were not terse, like when he got annoyed, but slow and calm. At the same time, though, you could feel his heart pounding hard, could hear it when you placed your ear over his chest. Clouded moonlight softened those hardlined features, and again, you wondered if this was your first night together or actually your honeymoon: wasn’t this kind of pillow talk reserved for spouses alone?

A deep swallow, and the last time you checked yourself. Could he have looked any more genuine? Any more readable? Transparent? You didn’t think so. For the man of few words, this was all but an admission of his feelings for you, and it was the best look you had ever seen on him. His advice, his command, invited you to try that outfit on.

“Practice with me?”

One slight nod, so slight - you knew no one would have noticed it but you. In that, you felt your confidence soar, pulling the words from your heart to the air between you both, “Hold me tighter?”

He did.

“Pull me closer?”

He did.

“And kiss me already.”

Levi could not describe it, the feeling that overcame him when he heard your demand. Proud of you. Relieved. At peace yet exhilarated. The serenity that all was right in the world, yet the anticipation of what he had wanted all along. The nature of the kiss aligned with the latter. For two agonizing seconds, he examined you. Assured by the sight of your smile, he longed to taste it for himself. Thumb pressed to the curve of your chin, index finger perched under it, slowly yet with unwavering passion - that was the way Levi brought your lips together. 

Soft, as he expected. Expert, as you had. Initial contact was delicate, the warmup slow. Levi always went so hard at everything he did, held such a sharp tongue, which was why the way he brushed against you made your heart stop. You knew strength to be his greatest, most innate feature, and therefore you deciphered that this tenderness was a display of exertion. Levi showed no signs of struggle, though. Touch-starved for you, yet his lips chose to waltz rather than tango. His hand on your chin drifted to the back of your neck. Nape cupped in his palm, he used that leverage to drift you here and there, allowing him to taste all of you - encouraging you to do the same with him. 

Levi tasted like peppermint, the brand so sharp that it made you sneeze now and then, he had learned after enough lunch breaks. You tasted like cinnamon, the stick that baristas stuck in his chai come the colder months. When your tongues met, they created a new taste. After minutes of exchange, they became addicted to it. Their craving demanded all efforts in that search: Levi’s grip pulled you closer, you threw an arm over his back. Breaths turned to gasps, a wordless understanding of all you would do for the other: grab his mail on the way in, walk you to your car at night, and kiss until you were out of breath.

The thought had never crossed your mind, but his actions disintegrated it - the possibility that this was some selfish, opportunistic spell. Levi was nearly shaking with anticipation, his erection pained with neglect, but that did not influence his pace. Each time you thought the makeout might end, he would catch his breath with “pretty girl…” before joining you once again. His kiss was lovely, as was the spark at your middle, but his ardor was gas to your flame, and before you knew it, you were ablaze. You found your body rise against his, pushing off the mattress, and rolling to grind against the friction of his rigid figure. Levi was everything you ever wanted, and maybe you were just that desperate or just that greedy - the fact that you needed more. He wouldn’t have you any other way.

You thought twice before breaking from the kiss, one last deep plunge of your tongue to his throat before pulling away, conscious to savor the taste. “Levi…” you sighed.

A string of saliva hung between you, the clean freak calmly closed his fist over it, and you felt yourself shudder again, “can we keep practicing?”

His lips were one degree north of flat, about as big of a smile as anyone would see on Ackerman. Tonight, just the two of you here, it felt inexplicably, particularly special. “Make love to me.”

An advanced learner, you always went the extra mile. Back then, Levi had no doubt, it was the reason you had been promoted so quickly. Now, it was that you had aced the first lesson and jumped to the next: no longer asking, demanding already. Sentimental was not a feeling he knew, but proof that you were this comfortable with him was indeed something. 

His praise reflected that feeling back onto you, “That’s right, good girl.” The back of his hand brushed unruly strands from your face. A kiss on your forehead rewarded, “like that.”

Once more, he pressed his lips to yours, but it was not even a second that he stayed - just a starting point to the journey that was exploring your body. Lips slid to the corner of your mouth, down your jawline, neck, then chest. A trail of hickeys and teeth grazes was left - tomorrow’s meetings and your professionalism having vanished from his mind. His hands joined the excursion: one gentle yet relishing in its caress of your neck, the other crawled up your - his - shirt. The familiar texture of his old garment contrasted with the novel feel of your skin. Muscles twitched with satisfaction, disrupting the fluidity of his motions, but you found beauty in the unpredictability of his touch. Rose-colored lenses were blind to the signs of his weakness, instead chalking those movements up to Levi’s expertise. As you tipped your head back and sighed, Levi figured it was the first misunderstanding that had done you two any good tonight. 

On his descent, he could not help but take a stop at your breasts. Turns out, it was never just his imagination, but given your curvature, of course your buttons would have been stretched to contain you. Those blouses had been his guilty favorite for that very reason, but his tight t-shirt was taking a close second. No, that slip you wore when you joined him in the bathroom, that must’ve been the best, right? Blood rushed, pupils dilated, his body anxious for a visual refresher.

You were going faster than he could have hoped. Already, he was proud of you for having graduated to demands. Now, you had learned to act on your own - either having read his mind or listening to your own desires. Levi could not decide which possibility he preferred, but when you lifted your top and perched it at your clavicle, he was ashamed to admit that his mind had discarded all other affairs. 

Levi nestled his cheek in your cleavage, and though you were over a thousand miles away, he felt he was at home. Warm pillows cupped him, and both of you felt that the space was made for him to fill. Levi’s breath was hot on your skin, yet your nipples appeared as though you were in a winter wilderness. Of course, he took notice in all your details, and sighed in mutual enamor, “Fuck, baby…” 

It was a tone you had never heard in his voice before. Desperation and desire in a man so ever assured and disinterested, you felt your panties drip from damped to soaked. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You, too, was what you thought to say, but somehow, the word seemed inadequate. His body was artwork: a symmetric abdomen, muscular forearms, veins that stood against his skin, you longed to trace him as such. Bangs that fell perfectly imperfectly over his face, begging that you run your fingers through them: mess with them now, gel them straight in the morning. You could slice paper on that jawline, could get lost in his eyes. No matter how long you stared, and stared you had, Levi was like the sunset: even after a hard day, always breathtakingly gorgeous.

Especially with the perspective you had now. One hand cupped your waist, the other your breast, perching you into his mouth, eye contact deliberately maintained throughout his movements.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Levi’s tongue swirled your nipple before his lips audibly slurped. “To get what you want…” 

Again, the fog of the nameless hours between night and day had blinded him to the relevance his words had to himself. How long had he wanted this? How good did it feel? He had no verbal answer for it, only the fervor of his actions: sprightly tongue and rocks of his hips. As you always had, you filled his gaps: while he could not fathom the words, yours overflowed. 

“Oh, Levi… Fuck, Levi…!” your desperate cries of his name made him leak onto the hotel sheets, no longer pristine. Your harsh exhales ran currents through his hair, and suddenly, it seemed you two had traded temperatures. Now, he was the one shivering while you sweat through the shirt. For his fever, he craved one antidote. Crawling down your body, his approach to the medicine cabinet. He prepared to ask for his dosage.

“My turn.”

Huh? 

You propped yourself up on your elbows and took a good look. A good look: Levi had wedged himself between your legs. Fingers caressed your thighs with a precise pressure, a touch that tickled in a way that made you want more, yet was strong enough that he could push your hips to the mattress and pry your legs apart. You had to bunch your fists and rub your eyes to check, maybe 3 AM was just fucking with you. 

Levi read your search for reassurance and inserted conviction into his tone. His stare and voice unwavering, “Can I taste you?”

Yeah, 3 AM was definitely fucking with you, for this was too good to be true. His sharp chin dwindled above the soft of your sex. His gaze set on your soul. Both of you agreed: his hands had never felt so calloused until they met your smooth thighs. It was a dream you would have woken up thankful to have had bestowed on you, but the grip he had on you was so perpetually undeniable: this was real. Head spinning, mind raced to catch up, yet Levi’s wait was so astonishingly still. Levi knew he would make you feel good. Based on your state, it seemed he was already doing that. Now, you just had to say yes, but he would not push you towards any one answer, nor would he do anything more until you arrived at it. If you wanted it, you had to ask for it, sweetheart.

A flood of thoughts swirled in your mind, each one screaming over the other, you felt you were drowning. In your search for stability, you relied on your sense of sight: Levi Ackerman between your legs. What the fuck are you waiting for? 

“Y’Yes, Levi.” You reached down and held his forehead. As you brushed his bangs from his face, he offered another half-smile, but it was brief, for he was past the point of eager. Still, the calm in his pace remained. Slowly, his hands snaked from the backs of your thighs to the sides of your hips. Thumbs hooked between the straps of your panties and your skin. His fingers clenched over them, bringing the garment past your knees, down your shins, and off your ankles. From chest to toes, you were now entirely exposed. At first, you wrangled with embarrassment, but his infatuation was your comfort. Hunger seized his vision, thirst drove his actions. You had nothing to be afraid of. 

His earlier route, lips to neck, neck to chest, chest to torso, was now mirrored. Levi cupped your heels in his hand and lifted your feet, allowing him to plant kisses up and up your legs, drags of his tongue followed to connect the dots. Minutes gone by, and even after having pocketed your consent, he still had yet to put his mouth there. Spending time to appreciate your thighs, he wanted you to know how long he had been anticipating this, and now that he had finally landed his spot, he would be damn sure to save the best bite for last. 

Left arm wrapped around your thigh, Levi nestled his head against it, allowing his perspective to stay sound on your sex. His right hand trailed from your knee to your middle, and at last, you knew he was getting started. At first, it was his fingertips, and at that mere first touch came your sudden awakening as to how dire your desire had grown. Your hands flew back and clutched your pillow, Levi admired the tendons that rose in your wrist, and your voice, “A’Ahh!!” 

He shot one glance up to check on you, but the look on your face ensured you were more than okay. With that, he decided to repeat the pattern of his rubs. Index and middle finger paired as they rode the sliver between your lips, your arousal slickened his knuckles. Once wet enough, he would split his digits into a V, each one taking responsibility for one of your folds. When that friction ran dry, he would return to your core, a seemingly never-ending source of lubrication, to run the process back again. You should not have been surprised, for everything with him was purposed - in the office or in the bedroom. With your interior and exterior in a coat of your own clear, he would have the freedom to run his mouth, no need to lick his lips or garner more saliva. Years of anticipation, now that the moment had arrived, he was going to spend the extra seconds to make sure this went according to plan.

Your glisten was so thorough, looking at you, Levi swore he could see his own weak reflection, the blush on his cheeks, the sweat on his forehead. In that way, his plunge was accelerated: preferring to trade the sight of his unruly state for the taste of you. Lips circled to match your curves, and you quickly identified this as a familiar feeling in an unfamiliar place. Levi was kissing you with the same tenderness he had displayed in your makeout, only now, he was between your legs. His jaw stretched wide to ensure he could reach every inch, from the top of your cleft, along your crescent sides, and to the spot where they rejoined. With his mouth in control, he let his hands indulge in your body, adorned upon your delectable waist, light squeezes of your ass, and massaging the divots of your inner thighs. His lips practiced that motion with a goal of perfection. Meanwhile, his tongue distracted you from any signs of his learning. Slow, purposed drags from bottom to top made your love pool on the tip of his tongue - each accumulation swallowed with a satisfied groan. Levi’s oral was pristine, only an occasional slurp and smack, allowing both of your vocals to take the stage. Your sky-high gasps, his low and satiated moans. He lived for the moments you would syllabize his name “Le-vi…” His “there you go” always followed, implicitly begging for more.

His neck began to bob in support of his movements. With that came a whole new level of pressure and slate of angles. His sharp nose slanted against your curves, lovely opposite to your soft. Your scent and your taste moved mountains within him, and in that, he noticed: his emotional pull was just as strong as his physical. All his life, he had grown to love bitter tastes, perhaps because they had been force fed to him. You were the first cube of sugar to have landed in his drink. Now, he had honey straight from the source. Levi felt his erection press hard against the mattress, “Fuck…” he whined, “you taste so good.”

Breath caught in your throat, all you could manage was a light sigh. As your lips twitched, he generously helped, taking the words right out of your mouth. “You have no idea…no idea -” Levi moaned, “how fucking long I’ve been waiting for this.”

At those words alone, you felt you might climax right then. Had he been eavesdropping on your dreams? How did he know that you had been fantasizing over that exact sentence for an unspeakable amount of time? “Me - Me too, Levi…” 

Your admission was even sweeter, lifting his feelings from indulgence to fulfillment. All the nights he had spent awake, wondering if you were thinking of him the way he was of you, your confession was confirmation that this had been requited all that time. Levi found it both gratifying and maddening: gratifying to have discovered that your feelings were mutual, maddening how many years had gone by until that discovery. Levi grew determined to make up for all that time, revenge reflected in the acceleration of his actions.

Levi shoved his arms beneath your thighs, lifting you into a shameless, unhideable angle. Good thing, he mused, no more hiding. Shoulders propped at your midthigh, keeping you perched apart. Fingers wrapped around your skin, he pulled you down the bed and crashed you onto his face. Your gasp was exhausted as you tried to keep up. Both of you knew, though: you were no match. As his tongue thrust to unfathomable depths, you likewise could not conjure any idea of how to withstand this. Nose rubbed against your swollen bud, brows narrowed in determination, he looked nearly angry. Working hard for your climax, harder than he had for anything else, even his own. 

Shit…!

If this keeps up…

A telltale tide turned in your tummy, spasms sparkled along your legs. Fingernails pierced the pillowcase, fighting off your impending loss of control. You could not delay it, not unless he - You fisted your hand in his hair, and he thought this was it. Instead, you pushed him away. “L’Le-vi…” a series of rapid pants, “hah, hah, ho’ld… on!” 

His tongue flattened still. Between the vertex of your legs, his steel attention rose to you. Not anxious, but concerned, You alright? 

“I, I want -”

At those words, he once again simmered with pride, thankful you had taken his ask for what you want to heart. After a few more breaths, you managed the minimum composure to plead, “I wanna cum with you.” 

Levi’s first thought was one of generosity, you know you can have - I can give you - more than one, right? But he knew you better, and he knew what you meant. You wanted your first to be with him, and though he was parched with thirst, desperate for the taste of your cum in his mouth, your wants were foremost his. With a deep, patient breath, he watched your twitches slow to still. When the threat of your orgasm vanished, he calmly laid one final kiss to your core, etching your taste into his memory. His silver stare swallowed you down, a mental polaroid of your pose. His palm massaged your sex in physical praise, promising that he would never make you wait again, and that he’d definitely make you cum next time.

He started to ascend back up your body, but you flung yourself forward and met him halfway. Brows arched in shock, his eyes widened briefly, you closed them with another kiss. Mint flavor of before had been washed away by the taste of you. Further evidence of his devotion, you desired to prove that you were just as committed to him. You hooked your elbow to his nape and threaded fingers through his undercut - your turn to pull him here and there, granting yourself the freedom to explore the parts of him that you had always wanted to. Most of all, the length growing harder and harder to ignore. 

Still, you were conscious to withhold your rush. You endeavored to slow your pace so that you could match the one he had performed on you. How good it felt - he deserved to feel it, too. You ran your hands down his chest the way rain slid down a windshield. Levi felt his boxers turn wet when your palms pressed upon his pecs, the buds of your hands kneading his tender patches. His exhales turned crackly, his inhales uneven. Laying kisses on each of his abs, down and down his torso, your contact held the compliments you were too shy to say. He heard them and reciprocated them: arm wrapped around your waist, bruises where his fingertips pressed - he hoped they would stay till morning, and that when you saw them, you would remember the love he had shown you tonight 

Finally, you dipped your fingertips below his waistband. Sweat glazed his hips, allowing you to slide your hands in, but at this point, there was not much room for you. His erection had taken all his threads had to offer. You spared him the begging, sliding his cotton down his outstretched legs and finally releasing him from their confinement. Soaked in his own anticipation, veins visible, his arc steep. The shade of his member matched the one of his cheeks: the pink of a vulnerable blush, the crimson of ardent lust. As he watched you watch him, another dribble of clear dripped down his length. Levi grit his teeth and cursed. From stifling heat to cool air, that drench turned from comforting to exhilarating. In the wake of his tried swears, you gently cupped your hand around his girth and cleaned him as best as you could, spreading the leakage of his tip down to his base - his shaft your path. Contrast to his stress, you soothed him as you always had, just a different context this time. 

It was his turn to cling to the sheets. Hands clawed into the comforter, you watched without shame, enchanted by the way his forearms flexed. Heels ground to the mattress, toes curled in sheets. Each motion was accompanied by either a sharp inhale or short exhale. Was it sadistic or considerate of you to keep pumping him despite that? 

Levi loathed the way he stuttered through your name, on the other hand, you adored it. Levi cupped the back of your head in his hand and tugged your ear to his lips. His breath was hot on your cusp, yet somehow, it sent chills through you. Your sex had landed atop his lap, his cock nestled between your folds, still wet from his prior excursion. Pleasure had him growling, the look in his eyes both commanding and desperate, “Let me take you.”

Obliging and insisting: as one, you leaned back and he pressed forward. Your head landed atop the plump pillow, his hand beside it. Before you could blink, he had plummeted onto your lips again. This kiss was so opposite of all prior: his tongue demanding entrance, grazes of his teeth, and bites of your lip, loud and messy. You had cut Levi Ackerman to his last thread of composure, that was where you had always wanted him.

And this was how he had always wanted you: your most unabashed, honest, purest and filthiest self. He always found it so painfully obvious, how much you strained to stay prim and proper, polite and professional at work. It was why he lived for the times you slipped up: an eye roll in meetings, the long sigh after a conference call. Levi knew that the real you was there, and now you were here: in this shared bed with his shadow cast over your skin. 

There was just one thing, though, that differed from his expectations. Desire was painted on each of your features, but they were glossed in nerves. Twitches in your lip, rattle in your lungs, eyes glistening, he feared they were tears. You cinched your hand around his wrist, and he recognized that smile. It was the kind you donned when you spilled your coffee or showed up late. Adorable, but unassured, and that would not do in this context.

“You’re nervous.” Levi did not ask you, for he knew his intuition was accurate. “Wanna stop?”

You shook your head and insisted vehemently, “No.” With a tilt of your chin and arch of your back, your lips brushed his with each word you spoke. Seeped down his throat, understanding swallowed: “I want to start.”

Levi returned your characteristic smile with one of his own. Tipping your foreheads together, “You’ll let me know if you change your mind.”

An order or a question? Either way, your heart scoffed at the idea. You know how long I’ve been waiting for this? There was no chance in hell you would change your mind.

“Or if it gets too much.”

That, there was a chance of. It had taken him mere minutes between your legs to bring you to the point of screaming and to the brink of climax, but that was what you wanted. His consideration fed you calm, you fed him reassurance. The flicker in your gaze settled, meeting his of solid steel. You tucked his bangs behind his ear and affirmed, “I’m ready, Levi.”

Fronts pressed, heartbeats matching, there was only one connection left to make. By the grips of his hands on the backs of your shoulders, Levi pulled himself those last crucial inches, and closed that final gap. His tip slick with precum, your slit dripping with anticipation, yet accommodating him was no easy fit. He had spent all that time down there with the goal of making it easy on you, but watching your face scrunch and hearing your voice whine was not half bad, either. 

In fact, he had not even made it halfway in yet, and you were already writhing. Levi bit the inside of his cheek and knit his brows, careful not to push you too hard, conscious for signs of your apprehension. You sensed his wavering and clawed his back, pulling yourself further down his length.

Looking up, his expression was strained. Reaching new depths, pushing past your initial walls, his voice poured exertion. Still, he did not stop pushing. Toes arched into the mattress, calves flexed with each labored drive. Each fuck brought the two of you closer. For him, one more inch of his length. For you, one more stretch of pleasure. For the couple, a proximity you had always wanted. Each of you felt a tremendous responsibility to be the one to close that distance.

Repetition after repetition, his muted grunts melted to audible groans. The air between you was no longer saturated by your gasps alone, but his as well. His strain was the only thing that could ground you from nirvana and back down to earth. Despite his squint, he caught that transition: from the throes of sensation to the snap back to reality, all because you were concerned for his well-being. More than any sense of pleasure, your affection was what made his heart pound in his chest. Doe eyes gazed upon him, You okay?

After a series of hahs and ahs, Levi managed just a couple words, “It feels - It feels…”

Good? Bad? Your heart tensed in anticipation. Pleading and ordering, “Tell me, Levi.” 

Knuckles tight, fingers trembling, “...good!” Levi clenched his teeth and pulled himself forward with an aim of backing his words with his actions. After struggling to past your entrance, the force of this fuck brought his tip to your end, drawing shrieks from you and shock from him. Strength of his magnitude had pros and cons, he supposed. His flaws, you deemed them his perfections.

The damp of your cunt was audible, resounding throughout the room. You found yourself at an impossible choice: which was more embarrassing, your voice or your sex? Levi’s thought was similar and opposite, the same choices, just which was better? Levi decided that their symphony was best, and realized he could turn up its volume if he accelerated his pace. 

“Levi, Levi…!” To say his name came naturally, practically a swear word: the satisfaction of cursing after injury or mistake, so wrong yet so right to scream it out loud. 

Pleasurable pain when he hit your weakest points, a delightful exercise as your walls stretched to accommodate him. His eyes remained set on your face, ears tuned to your voice, translating your body language into instructions. Rapid thrusts to make you pant, but only until you started to choke on your own gasps. Then, he would decelerate, replacing speed with strength. When he filled you up, you would sigh and roll your eyes back. To Levi, that was the sign to dial it back up and get you there. 

Since this started, his read on you had been perfectly accurate. You were almost there. Simultaneously yet unknowingly, your inner voices warned: you won’t last much longer. The thing was, you didn’t want to, for you had endured so much already. The heat in your middle was unbearable now. Each nerve had been fried to its last end. This sex had gone on for hours, but your yearning had been years long. In your haze, you were blind towards any reason to deny yourself any longer. You wrapped your legs around his waist and relied on your calves to pull him closer. Bringing him to your end made Levi approach his. “Fuck…!” His voice was a low singsong, an adult lullaby. “(Y/N), (Y/N)...!” No longer a choice between deep or fast, Levi somehow managed both. Physiology threatened to overrule now. No, already…!

“(Y/N), I…I’m - ! ” His mind was racing now. Should he ask to cum or tell you he was? Should he withdraw so that you could get there first? Levi labored to open his eyes, looking to you for an answer. His senses of sight and touch told him: you were already there.

The pulsation around his cock, the steep arch of your spine, your parted lips and blissed-out face. The scrape of your nails down his back, ignorant to the possibility of hurting him. This was how Levi had always wanted it: to be the one you clung to, to offer himself when you were overwhelmed. Count on me. The orgasm that overwhelmed you now, that had been his doing, right?

Once again, it was as if you had read his mind. Without him having to ask, you answered: “Levi, Levi!!” Your hands squeezed him tight, white patches beneath your fingertips. Clinging to him, the life raft through each of your waves. “Y’Yours… I’m yours…” 

He had gifted you tissues for your crying spells at work, had picked up your lunch on the way back from break, but this provision was far preferable, much more fulfilling. Even as you turned his skin red, even as your legs clenched him and squeezed air from his lungs - no, even better - those were precisely the motions that pushed him over the edge. 

One hand clutched the top of the headboard, tight enough that you heard the wood wince. The other caressed your face with feathered tenderness. In that difference, you were once again reminded of his duality: on one hand, a hardass, but for you, a soft spot. Those dimensions were reflected in his voice, too: swears that made your ears burn and groans that turned the air heavy, yet arid gasps that lifted your soul and praise fit for a princess. While your cunt had run raw and slippery from his fucking, his warm cum filled you and soothed your stings. 

As you both came to, Levi lingered inside, patiently waiting until each of your waves crashed - savoring them. With a deep swallow and a delicate nod, he ensured he would handle your aftercare. Kleenex from the nightstand folded and padded against your sex. You sat up in panic, worried about the clean freak’s reaction, but he seemed particularly satisfied. Maybe it wasn’t that he hated filth, but that he loved clean-up. You bit your lip and bit back a smile, believing that the sex tonight had evidenced that.

Though his aftercare was doing much for your affection, it did pathetically little when it came to cleanliness. Both of you realized, not even the entire box would be enough. Levi looked at the wad of tissues in his hand, shook his head, and scowled, nearly laughing at the ineffectiveness. “We’re filthy.” 

Slowly, you made your way to his side. Carefully, you reached your arms around his back. Wrapped within your grasp, you leaned him back against your chest and whispered into his ear, “Good thing there’s a shower.”

Levi spun just enough to meet your eye contact, once again checking to see if he had heard you right. Three hours ago, he would have defaulted towards the no, always having believed one could not be let down if they did not get their hopes up. Over the years and especially tonight, your optimism was swaying that opinion. Your sound smile and unafraid stare confirmed: after all that mess, you were also keen for cleanliness. In post-coital clarity, he saw how stupid he had been to wait this long, and Levi almost said those three sacred words right then and there. 

But this was only the first night of the trip.

And the first day of the rest of your lives.

// masterlist //

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot x you #snk x you #anlian writes #my writing #alias's #oneshot #2023 #smut #salt and pepper

[rusmii]

𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝. . . Next door neighboor (i cant spell) Chuuya au????? like he moves in cause he's on a mission for a LENGTHLY period of time and he's like RIGHT next door to you?????? Any thoughts????

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I rushed this I do not like how I wrote this but it's wtv

𝐜𝐰𝐬: 6 month mission, grumpy chu, mentioned: hook ups/sex, arguments, talking it out, ambiguous ending

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who's absolutely fucking pissed about this 6 month long mission that was assigned to him by mori. When he questions about the mission's whereabouts, he gets even more cranky when he's told that the mission takes place outside of Japan.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who packs all of his luxurious items in multiple suitcases — if he was going to stay abroad for some time, might as well make the most of it, right? It's a practical free vacation if he gets his mission done sooner than later.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who grumbles when he finds out that the place he's staying in is a mediocre apartment meant for the middle class — hell, he might even say lower middle class like the asshole he is.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who stays up all night learning customs and local greetings before walking around the building, introducing himself — his favorite person to chat up being his next-door neighbor.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who accepts your offer to help him move in, after all why should he trudge all that luggage around alone when people around are willing to help him?

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who invites you out to lunch as a thank you for helping him out the other day — well, being the only one who helped him out.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who, out of everyone, now talks to you the most. Whenever he'd get invited out by other people, he would always knock on your door first to see if you wanted to tag along.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya whose face lights up when you accept his invitation and proceeds to drag you half out of your apartment before realizing that you needed to get dressed too. He waits for you patiently on your couch as he visualizes what you might wear.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who doesn't forget that he has a job to do, and always declines your offers to hang out at night — his mission requires night stalking, which is something that you don't need to be involved with.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who could feel your growing suspicion as each day passed by — him always finding excuse after excuse that narrows your lead.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who makes friends with your friends easily when you decide to do a ‘get together’ at your place. But that doesn't deter his attention away from you for one second — not even with the amount of flirtatious comments coming his way.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who hooks up with you one lonely night — a bottle of wine he brought over to your place one day. Too drunk to properly think, chuuya starts making advances in which you reciprocate.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who isn't shocked when you slam the door in his face after finding out about his true motive for being there. Despite his explanations, it doesn't change the fact that you felt betrayed and heartbroken.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who has left you alone since that day — your fight probably meant nothing to him; a cold-hearted mafioso.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who doesn't think the same way and sends you flowers/gifts anonymously to your front door step.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who, by the 6th month, finally shows up to your door one day and forces himself inside to sit you down and talk to you.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who offers to take you back with him once his mission is over — he knew it wasn't gonna be easy by the look on your face. So over the next few weeks of his stay, he brings it up again.

Next-door neighbor!chuuya who gave you one last night of pure pleasurable bliss before he packed up and the next morning and left — did you choose to go with him?

belong to @churuai DONT STEAL >:((

taglist (free to join!): @luvan1 @evilchuya @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani

#[🍓] — library #this is so shit yet i took so long with this im sry nonnie😭💔 #chuuya x reader #chuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #bsd x reader #[☆] — anon

[agentc0rn]

Flâneur

What if AZ is seen wandering in the city lol. Might not happen, may happen, who knows.

Short story I randomly made up for no reason if anyone wants to read based on this art (it's not the best but I wanted to indulge in my thoughts):

He wandered. It took great effort and time to get around the labyrinth of buildings. It did not help that his aged senses struggled with grasping all the novelties he had never seen before in his lifetime, nor did it help that hundreds of curious gazes and whispers accompanied him all the way through.

He had been well used to eye contact; not because of his height, but rather because of his status and duties he once held. Though now he was no more than a lost empty shell of a man, merely equipped with a heavy heart and a luggage full of harrowing memories and bygone knowledge that seemed of no use here.

He was a nobody, yet his presence was pronounced. Aside from his stature, his ragged, dull-coloured outfit and his long, unkempt white hair contrasted greatly with the finely made dresses and suits worn by the inhabitants of this great megalopolis. He stood out as a sore thumb, a prickly weed amidst a garden of small colorful flowers. Even though this place was formerly his home, he only became a stranger, a foreigner both in time and space.

Shunning the looks, gasps and hurried whispers he had garnered, he marched on, with no destination set in mind. An old habit that had turned into a lifelong custom - an eternal wayfarer he had become and identified himself as, since he had no home to return to. It had been long gone, washed away by the tides of time. 

He could not help but admire just how the place brimmed with life -  the way the afternoon golden sunlight poured down on the wide paved streets and avenues, where people chattered and strolled about, carrying bags full of goods purchased from the market stands. Carriages rocked and passed by, along with carts loaded with supplies of organic products. Pidoves pecked on bread crumbs at every chance they could get.

The longer he observed, his mind stirred up thoughts and ideas and imagination of all sorts. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment  as he saw himself opening up the mass contraption, unleashing a huge brilliant beam of light that pierced through the clouds, the skies, to the heavens above, soon to scorch upon the earth. Destruction was his legacy, forever engraved onto his name, a grave sin of his that took the form of a key that he long bore for centuries. The effects of his crime more or less tagged him everywhere, lurking around within his shadow. 

It haunted him.

He took a deep breath and doddled the other way, searching for a place to sit. His legs needed a break and so did his mind. He continued onwards until a fragrant scent reached his senses, causing him to stop in his tracks. Taking a closer look, he found a cart stocked with motleys of blooming flowers. There, a short, petite woman donned in a white dress looked around the pots, still yet to decide on which one to choose.

He couldn't help but draw near, all while memories seeped into his mind where his younger self plucked a handful of flowers, tying them and placing them onto his beloved one as a crown. As he bumbled towards the cart, the short-haired brunette took notice of his presence and backed away from him, startled. He mumbled an apology with a tilt of his head, stepping away from the cart. Once she regained composure, she smiled and invited him to come forward with a flick of her hand, quickly dismissing the awkwardness of the encounter.

"Lovely, aren't they?" she said, leaning towards one pot filled with daffodils and sniffed one. AZ did not expect the lady to speak, yet alone to him out of all people. But he did not want to rudely decline a conversation. He hardly exchanged a conversation with a human being for so long in the countless years of his wandering.

He yearned to regain a sense of humanity again, for he had long lost his sense of self along the way in his descent to desolation.

"...Yes, they certainly are," words parted from his lips. "Fleetingly beautiful. Small, but valuable. Truly Earth's finest wealth." With his gloved, coarsened hand, he gently lifted a drooping rose and over to the lavender. The lady in white's smile remained as she eyed his solemn expression. Her soft gaze held a tender curiosity, free of disdain and wariness, unlike the gawking reactions from others. She turned away briefly, returning to her search for some moments just before re-opening her mouth.

"With all of that cumbersome load and thick garment, you must have traveled a great distance. From where you might be?" She inquired. On her right, a Floette drifted up towards AZ, smiling brightly the same way her partner did. As soon as he caught sight of the Floette, it broke his stolid, stony expression. He tried to utter a response but failed. From the bottom of his stomach, grief resurfaced, securing his throat at a chokehold. Tears blurred his vision and he fluttered his eyes quickly. The Floette tapped on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him, but a few tears trickled down his pale, hollow-cheeked face.

"I...I apologize. I am suddenly reminded of something," he stuttered and looked away in shame. He had thought he had dried all his tears up after all these years.

Taking a quick gander at her surroundings, the lady beckoned to him to follow and he did so without a complaint until they reached a small alleyway, where ratattas scrambled out about. The lady fumbled in her bag and pulled out a handkerchief. "This should be a better place. I should be the one giving an apology, you did not do any wrongdoing. I am no fan of the public either." He accepted her generous offer and dabbed at his eyes, then gave his thanks.

"In a way, you remind me of my grandfather," she said. "Gentle, soft-spoken and fond of nature." As she spoke, the Floette twirled around AZ in a small happy dance. He cracked a weak smile, then returned to his usual countenance. .

"Do I?" he questioned.

"Your mannerism and tone precisely resemble him. I would have loved for him to meet you, surely you would have been good friends."

He smiled and said nothing. They stood in silence, gazing outward at the end of the alleyway, with small streaks of people flowing in and out of the street.

"It is better for me to go now. I worry that I am troubling you, having meddled with your errands," he said with concern, looking downwards at the lady. "I thank you for your acts of kindness. I truly appreciate it." For every word he said, he meant it. He glanced sideways at the lady's Floette and it dawned on him that he had something with him that he could give to the lady as a return of  favor.

AZ dug into his pockets.

"This may not be much, but I hope that you may use these to grow in your garden." He said, extending his long slender arm towards her, handing her a bag of red trillium seeds that he had collected not too long ago in his journey, in hopes of planting along barren areas long affected by the war and the destruction of the ultimate weapon.

"Oh, you are too kind, traveler! I have heard of these before, but never have I expected to possess them!" she placed both of her hands on her chest, gushing. "Do you see this, Fleurine? We can grow more!" she beamed to her companion, who spun around once more in great joy. She turned back forward to him and grinned.

"Before we depart, my name is Acacia for your knowledge, should we ever cross paths and meet again. It  was a great pleasure of exchanging some brief pleasantries with you, good sir! May your journey be filled with great tidings!" she waved at him, joined by her Floette, who waved her flower at him.

"Likewise. My name is AZ. If we do not meet again, then let those seeds be a souvenir of me. I wish you a prosperous life ahead," he said."Au revoir, Ehzie!" the young lady called one last time, and made her way back to the market. Waving back and nodding, he trotted off. He managed to make his way to the end of the city, apparently named Lumiose, with hope sprouting within his ancient, grief-ridden heart.

#pokemon fanart #my art #pokemon legends z #pokemon legends za #pokemon legends z-a #pokemon az #AZ #pokemon #pokemon legends #floette #this is probably one of the few times I drew city landscapes... there's some crookedness but nonetheless a worthwhile challenge and practic #I made the girl dress up in white to represent innocence and have a floette accompany her. #kalos #az pokemon

[personalizetags123]

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[theelderhazelnut]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @aceghosts @nightbloodbix @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn <3

I’m one hour late lol. Okay so this is what I have written so far for the first chapter of “Rise of Villains: The Shadow”. Atoosa (Ombra) has lost everything, and she meets Raiden for the first time. (Güney is a minor character)

Also, this is not proofread!

I had never truly felt it until that night when I was sitting beside the road. I had never wished to be anyone else, even that middle-aged man making tea for his customers, but this lost little girl. What did people do when their parents are suddenly killed in an airpalne shot by two rockets, and when they were suddenly left with nothing but an old luggage?

I stared at my fingers, trying so hard not to bury my face in them because then my life would magically go deeper into this abyss. What was I supposed to do really? A psychiatry student in a foreign country who had lost her financial support last week and her rented apartment this morning.

I went into my pocket to check the time, but remembered that my phone had just died. I took a deep breath to protect my sanity for just a few more seconds until I arrive at the restaurant, the temporary workplace I opt because I wanted to be this independent woman. The money it provided me for working there part-time would never heal any scars, but it was better that nothing. But now it was everything I had left.

I pushed glass door open after walking for fifteen minutes, and dragged my luggage behind me. There were only two couples left out of all the customers. Güney, the cashier, looked at me up and down.

“Where are you going?” He continued chewing his gum while his dark eyes were begging to be shut.

“Can I stay the night?” It was weird to hear my own voice after hours of silence in the pavement. Also when I was trying to hide the pleading tone shaking my voice.

“Uuum-yeah you can sleep in the kitchen, but why? Are you okay?” He raised his eyebrows in concern.

Güney was never the friendliest collaege to me, and I definitely did not need his sympathy right then.

“I-my landlord kicked me out I’ll just stay one night I promise I’ll fix everything and-“

“What do you mean he kicked you out?!”

“Because I didn’t pay the rent.” Even talking about what happened this morning made me feel ill and dizzy. I shook my head and walked up to the kitchen.

“You could stay at my place.” He offered in a low, cautious tone, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. Trusting a stranger I see almost everyday? Nope. Never.

I stared at him dead in the eyes. “I’m good. Thank you.”

He creeped out of the dark room with measured steps. And I was, once again, left alone. I sat on the counter for the next couple of minutes, staring at the distance while the fridge continuously beezed in my ears. I would lie if I claimed that I wasn’t scared to be all alone in a restaurant at midnight. Surely, the doors were locked, but my mind was a bastard who enjoyed visualizing diverse scenarios of a psychopath suddenly breaking in. Fortunately, the knives and axes were at reach, hanging gravely from the rank.

I tightened my grip around the edge of the counter. I could hear the already ruined house of my life collapsing into the deep abyss of misery. I would turn into a poor girl drowning in povert while she carries her dead dreams on her hunched shoulders. I would be useless. I would fail.

A vague, booming sound from afar rang in my ears. I found myself totally frozen when I only moved my eyeballs towards the door. I greeted my teeth as though it would magically create a shield for me. The sound was heard again; now three times in a row like knocking. I held my breath to hear every single noise resembling footsteps.

Knocking again. In utter silence, I picked one of the huge knives, and [walking silently] out of the kitchen. White knuckling the handle, my nails were penetrating my sweaty palm.

Before I knew it, a thunder striked just a few meters away. My eyes went blind and my ears went deaf for a brief moment, my heart skipping a beat. I stumbled, but maintained my balance by holding onto one of the tables. Gathering my mind, I aimed the tip of the knife to where it just exploded. But to my shock, evrything was in its place. Not even a single crack could be seen on the windows.

Instead, there stood a tall, masculine figure. Due to darkness I could only see the blackness of his robe and a triangle on his head. Two balls of blue light were shining intensely where his eyes supposed to be. Even though he seemed to be totally alright, tiny fractions of electricity lit up his fists, and occasionally connected the edge of that triangle to his neck.

My lungs begged to empty themselves, but even a small noise was deadly threatening. Was he an alien?

“Atoosa Aryan?” He called.

My heart dropped down to my belly. My thoughts stuck in a tight knot, and so did my tongue.

“I am Raiden, the god of thunder.” He lifted his gloved hand. “There is no need to be afraid. My mere intention is to save you.”

A few minutes later, I found myself sitting before him on one the tables.

“Do we know each other?” I mumbled weakly, afraid that if I blinked for a second, he would rip my throat out.

“I am certain that you have never heard of me untill this moment.” There was a soothing hint of patience in his nonchalant tone. “However, I have heard about you many times in the past two decades. I am well aware of your iron-bending power, Miss. Aryan.”

My heart skipped a beat. He knew too much about me, even the tiniest bit of control I have over iron which I had concealed even from myself. Was he really a god? No, it would be too stupid of me to believe him. He was probably a very professional thief who had taken his job a bit too seriously. What did he want to steal from me though? I had nothing.

He continued. “I am here to offer you a place among the defenders of the realm.”

If he wasn’t a well-trained thief, the he was definitely a psychopath. But that didn’t make sense considering how everything about him seemed too real.

In the next half an hour he took his time to explain about how those defenders defend our realm which he called Earthrealm. He was a god whose main responsibility was to protect this realm. And seemingly, one of his minor duties was to find miserable people like me - with supernatural powers - and train them to be fighters.

That was ridiculous. But a part of my heart begged my brain to believe it.

Writing Taglist(to be added/removed): @vivilovespink @scentedcandleibex @darialovesstuff @confidentandgood @spacestephh @takiisieju-moved @inafieldofdaisies @carlosoliveiraa @shegetsburned @bloody-arty-myths @zoetheneko @hi-thisiszira @admin-pipes @mitsuko-saito @malewifefirestar @krysta-cross @elderglocks @breakfwest @middlechildwhoescapedthebasement @ninibear3000 @sinclxirx @gavincruikshanksexhusband @voidika @orbitinytheworld @strangefable @bihanspookies @valyrra @simonxriley

#ombra the ironhead #lord raiden #mk raiden #mk oc #mortal kombat oc #rise of the villains: the shadow #wip

[sleepanonymous]

Do you know what's the best way to get a letter or something of the sort to the guys? Try to hand it to someone during one of their concerts or is there some other (better) way?

Hello Anon, ty for the ask 🖤 I do know of a couple ways to get a letter or item to Sleep Token, yeah. Letter-wise, this might be your best bet. It's a fanmade compilation of letters to Vessel specifically, that a couple of really awesome fans are creating. The link to that post has an FAQ about what is allowed and how to submit to the project, and you can also follow the #thelovevesselneedsbook tag here on Tumblr.

Another option, especially if it's a letter for one of the other band members or a gift, would be to seek out one of the tour crew. If you're going to one of the Australian or UK rituals, then you can try handing the item off to the band's photographer Adamross. He's been fairly chatty with fans in the past and I'm sure he's been asked to give the band notes and gifts before. His Instagram handle is @adamrosssi (but I think he's more active on his TikTok).

If you'll be attending the Teeth of God tour this May, you're in luck because the band's touring MUA, Shevy Marie, has been vocal about wanting to meet fans as well as offering to accept and hand off gifts and letters to the band. Aside from stage costumes and makeup, she helps run the merchandise booths, so you can find her there. Her Instagram handle is @shevyymariee if you want to give her a follow. She's typically vocal while on your and posts to her stories, but you might also be able to chat with her on one of her lives and ask her directly about handing off a letter or gift.

If you don't happen to run into either Adam or Shevy, you can still try to give the letter/item to whoever is working the merch booth for Sleep Token, just be aware that they are working and there's most likely going to be a long and impatient line behind you.

The last way that you might be able to get a letter or more specifically a gift, to Sleep Token would be by handing it to them directly while they're on stage. Obviously, this will only work if you're on the barricade or trust the crowd around you enough to pass whatever you're gifting up to the front. I can also almost guarantee that the security/bouncers between the barricade and stage will not accept and hand off gifts from fans unless specifically asked by the band or crew. I don't recommend this option, since it would be such a high-variable situation, but this is how fans have gotten things such as notes/letters/signs, stuffed animals, silly hats, and jewelry to the guys (but also, for the love of god, please do not throw things on stage, especially directly at one of the band members or their crew).

One last thing (and I know this wasn't part of the question at all but I'm seizing the opportunity to go off on this tangent): Whatever you give to the band, remember that they have to travel home with it. They're essentially living out of a tour bus and hotel rooms while on tour, and already have limited luggage space. On top of that, they'd have to pack the gift and get whatever it is through customs when they get back home to the UK.

#anon asks #sleepanon answers #sleepanon rant #sleep token #thelovevesselneedsbook

[malice-ov-mercy]

Somewhere Along the Way - Part 4: Roses & Sunflowers

(x)

Pairing: Will Ramos x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: none

A/N: I know it’s short, but the last part is 6k.

Word count: 1.1k

Tag list: @circle-with-me @witchyweeb34 @xxrainstorm @sammyjoeee @littlefoxkota @cookiesupplier @bngurngheart @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lacktoesandtoddlerants @foliosriot

If you would like to be added, please let me know for who! If you tell me everyone/everything, just know that includes anything I may write for Bad Omens AND/OR Will Ramos.

————————————

Will Ramos Masterlist

Somewhere Masterlist

————————————

Will’s plane landed some time ago. Nerves and excitement bubbled in my gut. It’d been a long month and I couldn’t wait to see him again. On the drive here, I decided we would have our talk in the car. The sooner I got everything off my chest, the better. Many of my nights were restless. I was tired of stewing in anxiety and fear.

I glanced around the bustle of the airport, searching through the crowds of people for that familiar burnt orange beanie. My heart leapt out of my chest when I saw it. His face was buried in his phone, probably getting ready to ask me where I was. He had his coat secured under the strap of one of his bags while the others lay scattered around him. I slowly walked in his direction, my heart hammering so rapidly and hard in my chest, I worried it was going to explode.

My phone buzzed, but I ignored it. Will shoved his phone in the pocket of his hoodie. I could see a small frown on his face as he looked around. Then our eyes met, and his face nearly split in half with how big his smile was. I mirrored his smile and hurried my pace.

“Hey.” He said, immediately wrapping an arm around me the moment I was close enough. He pressed a kiss to my temple.

“Hey yourself.” I tried to hug him back, but his coat was blocking most of the embrace.

“Can you close your eyes for me?” He hooked his thumb under my chin. His eyes were full of light and joy. I missed looking at them so much.

I frowned. “Why?”

He bumped his forehead against mine. “It’s a surprise.”

Despite my pouting, I closed my eyes. I heard the rustle of plastic packaging. A fresh and floral scent hit my nose.

“Okay, open.”

I gasped.

“Flowers for my flower.” Will said with a sheepish smile. I gawked wide eyed, my gaze flicking between Will and the flowers he was offering.

“Will…” His name was only a breath from my lips. Our fingertips brushed as I grabbed the bouquet.

The deepest red roses I’ve ever seen stared back at me. They paired beautifully with the saucer sized, bright yellow sunflowers. I’m going to have to learn to dry flowers because there was no way I was throwing away these flowers. Ever.

“Those were a pain in ass to get through customs, so I hope you like them.”

“You brought these back with you?” I said incredulously.

His cheeks flushed. “Yeah.”

I flung myself at him, nearly knocking him over, and wrapped my arms tightly around him in a bone crushing embrace—coat barrier be damned. A surprised chuckle rumbled in his chest. One of his arms settled low across my back. The other rested over my shoulders with his hand cradling the back of my head. I pressed my face into his chest, mumbling a thank you.

“You’re welcome.”

“I forgot yours in my car.” I looked up at him.

“I guess we better hurry then.”

Will kissed my cheek then grabbed my hand. I laced our fingers together and started walking.

———

The red tulips I got for him paled in comparison to the roses and sunflowers. He was still overjoyed to receive them regardless. He refused to put them down—and my offer to help— while he piled all of his luggage in the trunk.

“Uh, it seems silly to ask, especially since… what happened, but,” Will trailed off, slamming the trunk shut. A blush crept over his face, “Can I kiss you?”

Against better judgment, I said yes. Surely one wouldn’t hurt, right?

His lips were chapped, but I didn’t mind. Every flutter and surge of emotion I felt last time came roaring back. All the air was sucked from my lungs. The parking garage faded into nothingness, along with everything else in existence. An all consuming kiss, the only thing on my mind was him and how I never wanted him to stop. I don’t think he’s aware of just how far he’s dug himself into my heart

I leaned in after him, chasing his lips as he broke the kiss

“I’ve wanted to do that again since I landed in Europe.”

———

Will quickly fell asleep during the ride back, the sound of his soft snoring filled the small confines of my car. He looked peaceful and I didn’t have the heart to wake him. We could talk when we got home.

I turned the volume of the radio up just enough so I could hear.

Earlier, Will gave me the most unamused and unimpressed expression I think I’d ever seen when he heard his own voice coming through my speakers.

“(Y/N), please. I feel like that’s all I’ve heard for a month. Please pick something else.”

I’d playfully suggested the Pain Remains instrumental, but he only scowled more. Now that he was sleeping, I could resume. The bridge of the first part of the Pain Remains trilogy broke through the silence. I frowned, upset I missed most of the song, but I didn’t want to restart it.

A wrinkle in time

Take what is left of my life

Before you go

Show me what it's like to finally know

The face behind the silhouette

In this world I made to be infinite

But within the expanse, I finally see

A world without you isn't meant for me

I glanced at Will.

Where do you go when I close my eyes?

What do you see looking back at me?

I saw a lot of things in Will. I saw boundless energy and enthusiasm. Unbelievable kindness and humanity. I saw my best friend. Someone who’s been with me through every low and high in life. My strongest supporter and confidant. The pillar and rock that kept me grounded but also nudged me when I was uncertain. My everything through everything.

I really hope we can make whatever is happening work.

Am I just a ghost just like you?

Caught between the seams of two intertwining melodies

———

Before I even fully parked, Will was opening his door, eager to see his cats. He tapped on the trunk hurriedly as I finally turned off my car. I popped it and he moved at lightning speed pulling out all of his luggage. I bit my lip to keep from giggling out loud and walked to meet him.

Will slammed the trunk closed, a sleepy smile reminiscent of the one he gave me a month ago spread on his face.

“You have everything you need?” He asked, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

“Actually,” I took a step closer to him, “Do you mind if I stay an extra night? I don’t feel like driving back to my place.”

Will’s tired expression brightened. He kissed the top of my head.

“You can stay as long as you’d like, flower.”

#will ramos x reader #will ramos fanfiction #will ramos fanfic #will ramos fic #lorna shore fanfiction #lorna shore fanfic #lorna shore fic

[apexgiftprint]

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