#This is the messiest post of my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 6 months

Text

777.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando has a wild week in vegas

on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol

posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍

inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic

warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit

5k words

lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.

the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.

it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.

they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember.  

everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.

everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.

he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.

by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.

a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.

suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.

lando couldn’t look away from you.

you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.

from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.

things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.

but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.

his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.

internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.

“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.

lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.

“you’re on.”

he lost.

every. single. game.

numbers were never lando’s thing.

it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.

the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.

he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.

it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.

the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.

“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.

he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.

it seemed he’d finally met his match.

you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.

your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.

slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.

happy fucking birthday.

lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.

you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.

“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.

lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.

he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.

lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.

and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.

when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.

you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.

lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.

lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.

fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.

you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.

he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.

and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.

lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.

with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.

your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.

he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.

lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.

apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.

lando remembered everything.

the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.

your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.

the way you gave as good as you got.

he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.

warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.

lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.

is this how he made people feel?

waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.

he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you’d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?

hope breeds eternal misery.

his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.

lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.

just like he usually was.

it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.

when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.

“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.

lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.

“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.

“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”

“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.

“bullshit.”

“woke up alone.”

“oh.”

“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.

“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.

“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”

“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”

lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.

he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.

the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.

carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.

lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.

there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.

just who were you?

lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.

you fucking winked.

he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.

but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.

had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?

every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.

the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.

lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.

okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.

he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.

lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.

fate had other plans.

lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.

“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.

as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.

“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.

what the actual fuck were you doing here?

lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?

“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.

“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”

“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.

well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.

“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.

“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”

“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.

“maybe i’ll see you next year.”

lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.

this would be the drive of his fucking life.

lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.

media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.

he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.

a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.

sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.

lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.

kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”

hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.

lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.

he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.

all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.

lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.

you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.

lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.

the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.

lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.

he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.

you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.

lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.

the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.

“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.

lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.

“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.

“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.

“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.

“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.

lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.

the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.

when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.

“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.

“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”

“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.

inbox me your thoughts bc aaaaaaaa 😨😨

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

i’ve removed tags that weren’t working! lemme know if u wanna be added or removed <3

2K notes · View notes

vaxieth · 8 months

Text

because something really did ask, have a much too long post about my thoughts on laudna’s individual dynamics with the rest of bells hells.

under the cut because it’s almost 3000 words.

laudna/imogen

i struggle to find something to say about imogen and laudna that hasn’t already been said a million times before. the core concept—the thesis—of their arcs, together and separately, is choice. so much of their backstories are defined by helplessness. laudna was chosen and killed because she happened to look like someone else, she was resurrected because she happened to be there. imogen’s mother left, she was burdened with powers she didn’t understand and meant constant pain and isolation. so, they make sure to constantly emphasize that the other person has a choice in everything. imogen tells laudna she only has to come back if she wants to, even though it would have devastated her to lose laudna forever. laudna tells imogen that the gods can’t control her, that no matter what her “destiny” is, if she wants, they can leave and live in a little cottage and raise horses together. the way they love each other unconditionally is all the more incredible given how cruel the world was to them for so long. laudna’s “you make me better” is true for both of them. they give each other a place to be vulnerable and feel all their messiest, worst feelings because they know the other one won’t judge them. they’ll support each other no matter the choices they make.

something i’ve mentioned quite a few times but never gone in depth about is that imogen and laudna do have a fairly significant age difference, and i do think that affects their dynamic. on the one hand, they both have a bit of arrested development—imogen due to her isolation from the rest of gelvaan from 18-26, laudna because she died at 20. on the other, laudna has so much more life experience than imogen. she spent almost 30 years traveling and interacting with the world even if was mostly people trying to kill her, maybe even because of that. the “laudna is imogen’s aunt/mother/older sister” takes were obviously ridiculous, but laudna does canonically look at imogen and see someone young who she wants to protect in a way she never was. she said as much to fcg after the gnarlrock fight. laudna acts as imogen’s rock, her tether if you will, a lot of the time, and part of the reason she can counterbalance imogen’s anxiety is because of the experience that comes with age. for example, during their conversation in episode 49, laudna is able to stay more “rational” and level-headed even when imogen is scared and overwhelmed.

one of my other favorite things about them, specifically from laudna’s point of view, is that with a few exceptions (the gnarlrock fight, her jealousy of frida), she doesn’t seem insecure about their relationship. again, during episode 49, laudna mentions that she knows they haven’t talked in a while, but she didn’t worry because they “transcend words.” she didn’t need outside assurance from imogen because she felt confident in their love for each other. something i love about that episode 39-49 period is that they didn’t interact a lot, but when they did, they slipped right about in the same kind of intimacy they’d always had—imogen holding launda’s hand when they went into her dream together, laudna’s protectiveness of imogen after she interacted with ludinus. but anyway—that confidence is why i believe the transition from friends to lovers was so easy for laudna. laudna’s unsure of herself, of delilah and what she might do, but she’s absolutely not unsure of the love between her and imogen. that’s why as soon as imogen tells her she’s not a bad person, that she wants to be with laudna in that way, she lets herself embrace it entirely.

in conclusion: they invented romance, they’re the best canon pairing critical role has ever had and one of the best dynamics in general, etc., etc.

laudna/orym

oh my god, WHERE to begin? i feel like my take on their dynamic is slightly controversial. at the very least, i get more push back from people when i post about it than anything else, so let me start with this: orym cares deeply about laudna, i will never dispute that. however, orym is uncomfortable with laudna and has been since the very beginning of the campaign. she’s his friend and he recognizes her beautiful heart and resilient spirit, but he’s uncomfortable with her appearance and her messages in his head, with her macabre humor and her deadness. he can’t reconcile that laudna his friend and laudna the dead woman can’t be separated. laudna’s deadness is a part of her, one laudna embraces. orym, for better or worse, is “normal.” he grew up with a loving family and he had a husband and a career. will and derrig’s deaths were an unbelievable tragedy but one that never challenged his place within the status quo. (sidenote: i’ve always wondered if part of orym’s discomfort with laudna come from the fact that her proximity to death is a reminder of the resurrections will and derrig never got.) he sees himself as a follower, someone that doesn’t stand out, then there’s laudna, who does nothing but stand out.

something i find fascinating is that orym is the first person to find out laudna’s backstory, and it affects him so much he can’t sleep that night and takes a point of exhaustion. he even explicitly recognizes the dehumanization she’s gone through and how laudna’s relationship with puppets like pate and sashimi mirror that. yet, he still never apologizes for trying to disguise her appearance, something without even asking. yes, i get it’s tactical and for “safety” (though that argument falls a bit flat for me when there’s also a glowing rock person and a fully conscious automaton in the group, but whatever), but it still hurts laudna. even beyond that, orym always qualifies his friendship with laudna to other person, making some mention of how she’s dead-looking and isn’t that crazy, wow, almost as if he wants some validation that it—laudna—is weird (one he, interestingly, rarely ever gets, given how enraptured most of the other pcs, including guests, and even some npcs, are with her). he does this even in situations he absolutely doesn’t need to like, for example, when maeve says laudna “looks cooler than i thought.” all this just sucks. it’s not that the love isn’t there, it is. it just isn’t unconditional, and laudna deserves better than that.

finally: the delilah in the room. no, it isn’t orym’s “fault” delilah is back. yes, he was also having an extremely bad time during the bor’dor fight and it wasn’t his “responsibility” to save laudna from herself, but laudna is orym’s friend. he listened to laudna tell him the trauma delilah put her through, he fought through hell to save laudna from her, and still nodded because part of him thought maybe delilah could help him and that was selfish. the fight against ludinus is important to of the bells, but for orym, it’s personal. it’s been his mission for six years. meanwhile, laudna is the one with the least enthusiasm about this. she has no connection to the gods. in fact, she actively thinks they dislike her, but he’s willing to sacrifice not just his safety, but the safety of her and all his friends for a cause they never set out to fight for.

in conclusion: i want to put them in a salad mixer together and watch them go around and around and around and around and around, then let them out to scream at each other a little.

laudna/ashton

if i had to explain laudna and ashton’s dynamic in one word, it would be “projection.” i adore their relationship, it’s one of my top 5 c3 dynamics, but oh my god, so much projection, and it’s so interesting because of that. ashton thinks he understands laudna, but in reality, he doesn’t at all. i’m an absolute sucker for characters that look very different on the surface but in reality are much more similar than they know, and ashton and laudna are that to a tee. they are very much narrative parallels especially regarding their feelings of “brokenness” and how their traumas are physical, visual parts of themselves, but the ways they diverge are almost more interesting.

certain people have said that her conversations with ashton are the only time laudna is “honest” or that, at the very least, she’s more honest with him than she is with anyone else, and i couldn’t disagree more. laudna can be a joyful, optimistic person and deeply traumatized with a core anger she hasn’t truly processed. laudna is a high-charisma character, and in my opinion, part of how that manifests is her ability to adapt her demeanor to the person she’s talking to. she speaks gently to imogen the same way she matches chetney’s hyperactive energy when they go sky-sailing. of course when she’s with ashton, who makes no effort to hide his anger and bitterness and doesn’t want her to be soft, she isn’t. none of these laudnas are more “real” than the others, they’re all laudna. what those people, and ironically, ashton themself, don’t get, or won’t let himself get, is that all those things can be true at once.

with ashton specifically, i don’t think they want to believe that because then they’d have to admit that growth and healing is a real possibility because anger is so much easier to deal with. people talk most about orym’s choices during the bor’dor fight most, but i’m fascinated by ashton’s as well. i wouldn’t be surprised if there was a part, no matter how small, that wanted laudna to break, to prove to himself that he was right and laudna was just as broken and fucked-up as them. so, laudna killing bor’dor was almost vindication, evidenced by their “what have i done?” “nothing i haven’t done.” exchange afterwards.

i don’t want this to sound like ashton doesn’t care about launda, they do. ashton cares about her so much, and besides imogen and fearne, is the most unabashedly into laudna’s aesthetic. i love how much they love all the weird shit she does. i love how protective ashton is of laudna, especially during battles and their willingness to go above and beyond for her—he carried laudna when she was dead despite his chronic pain without complaining once and were willing to make a deal with hexum after going through an entire museum heist to repay their debt. i love the moments when ashton sees how much laudna is struggling and tells her, as gently as he can, to take a moment and do what she can to ground herself. i love that when laudna way too dramatically assumes they kidnapped imogen, their response is “that’s very fair.” it’s all wonderful, and i love them.

in conclusion: I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AND I WANT TO LOCK THEM IN A ROOM AND FORCE THEM TO TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS FOR HOURS.

laudna/fcg

laudna and fcg have been getting more attention in the past few days for obvious reasons and that has me rubbing my hands together maniacally because even though they have very little actual interaction, the subtext is delicious.

besides ashton, fcg might be the character laudna parallels the most, especially their struggle with their humanity (if they’re even human at all), which isn’t helped by the constant dehumanization they face from outsiders, including the almost continuous comments they get when they meet someone new. people look at launda and see a horror while they look at fcg and see a novelty (he’s a robot with personality??), and those both suck. i think, for fcg, laudna is an uncomfortable reflection of himself because everything they’re afraid is true about themself is true about laudna. finding out they had a soul was such an important moment for his character (also remember his early campaign habit of calling other people “soul-touched folks”). as a hollow one, who knows if laudna even has a soul. if i’m honest, fcg seems to think less of laudna than the rest of the party (see: him calling her a “former person,” his speech before casting turn undead including, “no offense to laudna but can you please shine your light and wipe these evil, dead souls off the face of this flat planet?”) and that’s probably why. they have such strict ideas about “good,” which has become “godly,” and “wrong,” (“ungodly”), and within that framework, everything seemed to point to laudna as “ungodly,” which is why their empathy towards her is lacking.

the biggest conflict between fcg and laudna right now is obviously their feelings on the gods. the changebringer brought fcg purpose and tangibly helps them on a daily basis. of course they want to share this incredible thing with everyone they meet, especially his friends. yet, time-and-time again, the world has shown laudna the gods don’t seem to care about her. before someone says anything, pike resurrecting laudna doesn’t automatically mean she has to trust the gods. clerics and paladins spent 30 years running her out of towns for existing and trying to kill her in the name of their gods. if the circumstances were different, there’s a good chance fcg could have been one of those people. for fcg, the world is black-and-white. for laudna, it’s all gray. laudna was able to have a conversation with imogen about the ruby vanguard’s message and the purpose of the gods because she understands the need to question things and thinks that’s a good thing even if she doesn’t agree with the conclusions. fcg’s not there yet, and until he is, their friendship with laudna will never be able to progress past where it is now.

in conclusion: please have a conversation, maybe even two or three. it’d be so good for fcg to learn the world’s incredible nuances and for laudna to see how faith in the gods can be an empowering force for good, not just something beyond her grasp.

laudna/fearne

out of all launda’s dynamics, this is the one i desperately want more of. we’ve gotten so little! almost all their moments are interactions between the three witches that tend to center imogen (making the red-string friendship bracelets and comforting imogen after she talked with relvin come to mind) OR center imogen and fearne’s mutual appreciation for laudna’s… everything. one of my favorite about fearne is that, like imogen, she doesn’t think laudna is gross and creepy, she thinks laudna is gorgeous and charming without any caveats. even ashton, who also loves laudna’s laudnaness, tends more towards “yeah, you’re disgusting and THAT’S why it’s great.”

the other main part of their dynamic i want to sink my teeth into is the coin-toss, more specifically fearne’s guilt over the coin toss. regardless of whether you think fearne lied (i personally find that headcanon FASCINATING but to each their own), she clearly feels so many emotions about having to pick whether to save laudna and orym that she hasn’t even begun to unpack. one of the few sole moments we’ve gotten of them was in episode 42 when laudna asked fearne to help teach her to cast fireball, and in it, fearne, unprompted, blurts out, “how’s it feel being alive again?” almost immediately. she also apologizes to laudna, says they’ll fight any piece of delilah that’s still in there, and tells her, “i missed you terribly for that moment in time.” even when laudna gives her the chance to make the conversation light-hearted, fearne stays so genuine, which is all the more-noteworthy because she’s usually so flippant and almost always keeps her real feelings close to her chest.

some other examples of fearne’s guilt include: the 4sd where ashley said part of why she was so protective over imogen during their separation arc was that she couldn’t bear having to tell laudna anything happened to her and just this past episode when fearne’s protectiveness after laudna made her only cast first-level cure wounds on fcg after they cast turn undead.

in conclusion: PLEASE LET THEM INTERACT MORE. THERE’S SO MUCH JUICY POTENTIAL AND I WANT TO SEE IT EXPLORED.

laudna/chetney

i don’t have that much to say about them except that their dynamic is absolutely delightful. i love that we’ve gotten to see more of it in recent episodes, and i hope that continues.

chetney exists at an interesting place between orym’s genuine discomfort and fearne and imogen’s complete enchantment with laudna’s undeadness. he is sometimes grossed out, but he also seems to accept it as a thing about laudna without too much judgment, or at least, that “judgment” is light-hearted in a way orym’s or even fcg’s isn’t.

i love that they’re the characters with the most life experience (even if laudna is technically the fourth oldest, fcg only has two years of memory and fearne is a 100+ but spent 99% of that time in one place) but also embrace being “childish” and silly together, like the entire sky-sail sequence!

in conclusion: *gently holds* i just think they’re neat!

that’s all! if you read this whole thing, you get my eternal love and gratitude. thank you.

#laudna #imodna #laudmoore #orym #fresh cut grass #fearne calloway #chetney pock o'pea #bells hells #critical role #my posts #textpost #i’m weirdly more nervous about posting this on here than on twitter #but i spent like three hours writing and am pretty proud of the result #in case it isn’t clear i want to reiterate that i love ALL these characters #including orym and fcg #but they aren’t perfect #that’s what makes their dynamics so interesting!

285 notes · View notes

devourers-of-god · 3 months

Note

hii i love your blog, thank you for keeping the sf fandom alive with your amazing writing 🤍

can i request what it would be like if sal’s s/o was also his college roommate? like they both left nockfell successfully without the whole incident at the apartments and went to college together. how would it be for them from the domestic goofy shenanigans to the more deep emotional stuff, like since they share a room they’d be there for him during his nightmares and moments of insecurity 💔 aghhh i love him sm

Hii thank you for the compliments and for being sweet 😞🩷 sorry for inactivity!!! Also I already wrote this but when I tried to publish it didn’t work and erased my work. So this is second take of making this post ! (I’m going to throw my phone in a lake)

WHAT LIVING WITH SAL FISHER IS LIKE

Type: headcanons

Warnings: sh mention

- the dorm always smell like food because you guys have cooking nights often (except when you guys buy take out because you’re LAZY!!!)

- wine date nights even if he doesn’t like to drink, he does it for you. He also make charcuterie boards to go along with it.

- plays guitar for you and also plays composed songs made for you.

- pillow forts >>>

- the messiest/ prettiest dorm you’ll see: the messy room adds a huge charm to it.

- whenever he has a nightmare , you help him calm down while brushing his hair with your fingers, you hum his favourite song and you make sure he falls asleep after.

- when he feel like sharing what happened in his nightmare, you reason him by explaining that it’s just a nightmare and it won’t happen in real life.

- he paints your nails sometimes

- you guys dorm is a safe place for friends.

- you encourage him to take off his mask more often around you, and you always comfort him and shower him with compliments when he does so.

- you help Sal not relapsing with his self harm. You always help him in moments of crisis.

- you caress his face when you guys watch movies on the couch.

- after a series of weeks clean from self harm, you take him out to dinner or make his favourite food:)

OKI GUYS! Hope you liked😭 I’m sorry this is short I’m currently at work but I really wanted to post since it’s been a while !!!! I love you all guys

REQUESTS: ALWAYS OPEN!!!

#sallyface #sally face #todd morrison #larry johnson #ashley campbell #sal fisher #travisphelps #sf #sally face hcs #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher hcs #sal fisher oneshot #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher imagine

97 notes · View notes

mostlymaudlin · 5 months

Note

hi please can you rec some good long aftg fics i am DESPERATE i need to read about these people soooooo bad but i just am struggling to find things

so I think I have a lower barometer for “long” than a lot of people 😂 but here some longer ones from my bookmarks!

canon compliant:

if you really love nothing by @seasy33 / 40k / andrew and neil’s first “fight” of sorts (heart wrenching and beautiful)

The Later Parade by hourafterhour / 41k / kevjean that WILL change your life

Secrets and Honesty by fullyvisible / 42k / hilarious minyard-josten rivalry

au:

On the impossibility of reality by defractum (nyargles) / 56k / inception au!!

Dear Advice Guy by fuzzballsheltiepants / 60k / paramedic!neil gets a lil obsessed w the local advice columnist… and also meets a guy named andrew:)

Where The Wild Things Are by @justadreamfox / 27k / maybe 27k isn’t technically long? but this soulmate au is so BIG and immersive that it gives that same fic hangover effect you seem to be searching for!

In My Defense, I Have None by @likearecordbb / 65k / my favorite hs au! and in general one of my fave fics

Can We Burn Something, Babe? by @pipedream-darling / 65k + extras! / the messiest, most earnest kandreil ever written

I don’t read as much fic as I used to but one of my fave ways to find fics that are well-suited to my taste is to trawl the ao3 bookmarks of authors I like! OR look at the bookmarks of my favorite fics, and go to the profiles of the people who left the most exuberant bookmarks.

Also if it’s post-canon you’re hunting, may I suggest checking out the @aftgthenandnow fest collection if you haven’t already 👀 most of the fics are shorter, but there’s TONS and they’re all canonverse (and very good!!)

92 notes · View notes

voxaholic · 2 months

Text

Character Info For My Bojack Inspired Human Au

Hollywood Losers Au

Val & Vox

-Hollywood’s messiest on and off couple of just about 20 years

-extremely codependent: Val makes messes, Vox cleans them up, that’s how they work

-Vox has a shit ton of spyware on all Val’s phones and a tracker on his car and it’s only partially out of insane possessiveness. Vox’s creepy bullshit has saved Val’s life on occasion

-“Did you hide my fucking guns, Vox?” “Yes! And the fact that you’re even looking for them right now means I’m really glad I did!”

-Met on a set when Vox was still an actor and have been making each other miserable ever sense

-Gossip rags love them. Every piece of info about them is insane

-There are at least three twitter accounts keeping track of whether they are on or off again

-Neither of them would classify the relationship as abusive but from the outside observer, it definitely is

-Val is under the assumption that Vox is happy with their status quo and Vox is, until he isn’t

-Velvette thinks one of them is going to end up killing the other eventually

-they get into a lot of very physical fights. Vox usually comes out worse for wear

-see when a person with a disorganized attachment style and someone with an anxious attachment style get into a situationship…

Val

-43 but still lives and dresses like he’s in his early 20s

-semi washed-up actor that got his start on some sort of law and order-esque tv show

-has bleached and dyed his poor hair far beyond repair but it is still hanging in there somehow

-has had six PR managers quit on him over the last year and a half alone

-personal life goal is to do every drug once

-trying to fill the hole in his heart with hedonism. he thinks it’s working (it is not)

-self identified queer icon

-lots and lots of shallow acquaintances/fuck buddies, very few people he would consider close

-interested in the concept of a pet but every pet he’s ever had has either died of neglect or been taken in by Vox

-outward narcissism hides a deep yawning insecurity that he’s not even fully aware of

-self sabotages a lot

-likes to be taken care of and babied but only by Vox

-retweets his own callout posts on twitter (Vox deletes the retweets but screenshots exist)

-afraid of committing himself to anything

Vox

-45 and dresses like it

-greying early (he says it’s because of Val and Val thinks he’s joking. he isn’t)

-officially Val’s agent but also unofficially, his pr manager because every actual hired PR manager keeps quitting

-a fake bitch who doesn’t give a shit about 99% of people

-unfortunately once he starts giving a shit about someone he can’t really stop giving a shit

-has run several financial scams

-has done so much white collar crime

-gotten Val off for so much shit, like really, so much fucking shit

-briefly a child actor. it ended badly

-apathetic about most things outside of work but fakes it well enough

-always has like 18 different side projects going

-wants to marry Val to finally get some sense of stability in their relationship

-a control freak who needs to know what Val is up to 24/7

-the one who cooks in the relationship. he’s not good at it and Val complains constantly about how bland his food is but he still eats it

-has a blue pitbull puppy named Vark who he loves like a son

-he’s THAT type of dog dad

#Hazbin hotel au #staticmoth #valvox #voxval #hazbin hotel #this will be a fic eventually #human au

44 notes · View notes

eureka-its-zico · 1 year

Text

Winterfall

Synopsis: When you thought of your life, Glenview Psychiatric Hospital was the last place you thought you’d end up. What could be weirder than calling a place like this home? Finding people who remind you that, sometimes, the messiest parts of who we are can be the best parts of us too.

Pairings: Christian Yu x Reader x Jay B x Reader (It’s a love triangle, y’all)

Series: ongoing

Word Count: 5186

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, mental health issues, mental disorders, slight violence, sexual themes

A/N: This is a hard one to post. I’ve had this in my WIPs for over seven years. I’ve rewritten it multiple times. Consider if this was a series, I was willing to share. As someone who suffers from BPD II and PTSD, it felt strange to dive into mental health. In a way, I felt like I needed a safe place to get it out. To share. This fic isn’t meant to be sad. It’s meant to be about growth. The journey of mental health can be a messy one, but it doesn’t have to hinder our own growth. Our sadness does not define us. If I ever miss anything in the warnings for chapters, please let me know and I’ll fix it ASAP! This fic is loosely based off of one of my favorite films, Girl, Interrupted. And remember, if you you ever need to talk: Im here.

Shout out to my bestie @deadneverlander for always being the better half in our clownery. I wouldn't be able to do half of this without you.

There was something about the bleakness of winter that seemed to make countless people’s bones ache for the warmth of summer. Their loneliness is somehow made more apparent by rain clouds and negative degrees, turning thoughts into reminiscent scenes of a doomsday film.

You’d always claimed that fall was your favorite season because the vast spectrum of your sadness didn't match the heat of summer. Sure, you loved the possibilities of hot cocoa, warm fires, ridiculous horror, Christmas films, and the first sight of snow. Somewhere along the way, however, came the anxiety of holiday dinners. Where the comfort you’d found in overcast skies turned sinister with repeated looks that reminded you that you were the black sheep; the odd man out with another year of nothing to show.

Fall no longer meant binges on shows and breaks from the endless routine that was work and school. It meant laying in the snow until your body heat forced it to melt underneath you, seeping into the fabric of your clothes to leave your nerves numb and transparent like ice. Your mind silently hoped it would be enough to extinguish the agony that blossomed in your chest.

Jackets were no longer marked for warmth, but strictly to hide your struggle to feel anything past the chasm that’d grown in the past couple of months: to bleed out the parts of you that didn't belong. It wasn't a surprise it's what landed you a one-way ticket to the cozy room inside a psychiatric hospital. Maybe that's just what happens when you're found unresponsive with a belly housing a fifth of rum. The marks on your skin lay like a map to follow on how you got there; only being found like a frantic afterthought.

Glenview Psychiatric Hospital, or GSH that was strategically labeled in bright crimson above the pocket of your prison-inspired sweatshirt, had been home for three months now. It was meant to be a place of healing, among the basic mood stabilizing and therapy sessions everyone held in a day. You felt further away from that concept with every group activity the doctors forced you to take part in. Your social anxiety becoming apparent each time it lands on you to speak, either to close the circle, or to be a part of the ridiculous game activities. The last time you played volleyball your face saw more action with the pleather ball than your arms ever did.

It was currently 12:47 p.m. The clock giving you a false sense of hope that the time wouldn’t just creep by to leave you stranded the last thirteen minutes until you’d earned your freedom. There was, however, the off chance if Dr. Thompson wasn't hearing what he wanted; the hour-long group activity would be extended.

You scanned the other six faces that made up your group: the huddled mess of piled sweaters and huddled blanket of Soomi a fleeting moment of comfort. It only took your eyes adjusting on her figure to know she didn’t have one. Her tiny body composed of thick layers of clothes to portray a false sense of shape. Her anorexia becoming so severe her family had no other option but to put her here, or watch her die. Jason’s endless finger taps on every surface he could touch the only giveaway to his OCD until he removed himself from his chair. Sejun with his alcoholism and Yuna with her acidic imagination that the wind whispered her deepest secrets out into the world.

All this ending with your gaze narrowed on the statuesque figure of Jaebum who comically sat opposite of your current position. The two suicidal inmates that shared in the anxiousness of sadness but little else, and the usual reason why your group never seemed to end on time.

You couldn't say it was a shame to be stuck sitting dead center of someone so attractive; as shallow of an observation as it was there was no denying how ungodly true that statement was. He held a silent attractiveness that resonated in the solitude he kept around himself, and Jaebum was indeed a solitary creature.

He preferred books over people. Usually moving away from anyone who got close to his latest reading perch without ever glancing up from his current book. Jaebum’s favorite place he’d reserved to get lost inside his fiction the seal of the window that looked out the expanse of the institute’s backyard. The entire estate currently covered in the dead burgundy and gold of a forest of oak tree leaves.

It wasn't like you were laying avid amounts of your attention on him or anything. You didn't pay attention to how broad his shoulders looked in his old man sweaters that you could've bet money smells like mothballs. How his features seemed sharpened to match the fierceness that lived inside his eyes. The only thing that exposed his softness was the speck of a mole that dusted itself on his left eyelid.

Jaebum just held a presence that demanded to be noticed. Whether he himself liked it or not.

“Jaebum: do you have anything you’d like to add to the session?”

Dr. Thompson’s question made the both of you jolt in your seats. Youwere too busy staring down at your nails while you plucked away at the cuticles. Jaebum's head turned, unbeknownst to you, from looking at you to the good doctor. It was enough to make your cheeks flush hot.

His crossed arms gave a soft shrug, and you hated how your eyes stayed captivated by the movement. You were willing to blame it on the charcoal-worn cable knit sweater he favored. It really did smell like moth balls and age making you willing to bet it wasn't his to begin with.

“We talked about this guys. Shrugging is not an adequate substitute for an answer.”

His tone showing his frustration more than anger at his need to repeatedly inform the group. Dr. Thompson looked at each of you individually until he stopped on Jaebum, who didn’t seem the least bit moved.

“I have nothing to say.”

A sigh escaped from Dr. Thompson’s lips as his head shook softly. His eyes averted down to the tin clipboard momentarily before they resumed their previous position.

“And what is it exactly you would like me to add, huh?” You felt your body tense against the chair. Your hands grasping at its edges like it would be the only thing to keep you stable against the oncoming rage that was Jaebum’s agitation. “We do these pointless sessions over and over: again and again. For what? Do you think it “saves” anyone?”

Your eyes diverted from the safety of your knees; counting every frayed piece of cloth on your jeans that hung loose from torn holes. No part of you needed to acknowledge that he was standing. The room did that well enough with the tension his power caused. The room itself swelling with anxiety that made fidgety Sera begin to rock violently against the back of her chair. Her head shaking hair into her face, like a curtain to hide what she feared was coming her way like the abusive hands of her father.

The orderlies were already beginning to circle his chair, but Dr. Thompson held up a hand of warding. He reminded you too much of an irresponsible ring handler at a circus. Unwilling to recognize his own tiger was about to maim him.

“No, no that’s fair enough. I see you have an issue with the way we try and help our patients.”

“Help?!” Jaebum snarled. “Is that what you call it? Like you helped Simon remember all the things he wanted to forget! Is that what you call endless therapies until he killed himself! You consider being helpful with the way you handled Ian?”

Dr. Thompson regarded Jaebum quietly, but his eyes were focused and searching the young man’s face. You watched in helpless awe as one stood like a calm in a blazing storm, while the other raged so furiously you thought the walls would come down. No longer was his voice a strong current, but now thunderous words that hurled like lightning bolts were being directed at the man before him.

Jaebum was right. Sometimes, the doctors picked and picked a part at you until you were left bare and raw. And if their words didn’t do it their physical methods picked up where they lacked. His anger was justified, because deep down so were you. But you didn’t have the towering strength like he did to stand up to anyone. Your fear of the seclusion rooms kept you prisoner: locked in your chair as a simple flick of Dr. Thompson’s hand sent the orderlies rushing to Jaebum’s side.

“I think that’s enough for today’s session.”

In the back of your mind you knew that Jaebum was right. In part. Who were counselors and psychologists to tell the broken mirrors of people how to put their pieces back together? Only to end up with more blood on their hands from struggling to put sharp pieces in place. They studied people like you, Jaebum...people like Ian who were features in their college books. They themselves barely ever one to experience it themselves.

Healing, even if unconventional, was still healing in the end. There was no right or wrong way to get there, but here, with people like Dr. Thompson, their textbook solutions were the only solutions. Maybe that’s why it backfired so terribly with Ian.

So for once, you wanted to stand up with Jaebum. To call out the injustices of treatments forced on patients, like Ian. Treatments they’d placed on patients that only wanted to forget, because no one wants to remember traumas and everything that makes them feel like failures.

You knew, however, if you took that chance to be brave for once you would end up like Jaebum. Uselessly struggling against orderlies who came prepared with syringes to make you complacent and an endless day being locked for god knew how long inside seclusion.

It was cowardice that kept your mouth shut. All of you stayed quiet as an orderly you aptly nicknamed, “The Bull,” grabbed at the neck of Jaebum’s sweater. That was all it took for him to react violently. Jaebum’s elbow flew back with such force it dislodged The Bull’s grip, which only seemed to make it worse.

“Jaebum, please do not struggle.” Dr. Thompson’s voice didn’t sound as soothing as he probably imagined. Obvious agitation outlined every word; the struggle forcing all of you up from your chairs and away from the fighting. “Everyone out. Now.”

A part of you hated listening. For not firmly digging your feet in to stand for something you agreed wasn’t right. It was an odd thought. Since Ian was the usual instigator of the chaos of how these ended. Never Jaebum. Maybe he just felt like in Ian’s absence he needed to take over for him.

“You play god with everyone’s emotions and leave them to drown alone in the aftermath. You are the reason Christian keeps escaping and Hyujin is gone! It’s you! It’s all of you!”

Jaebum’s rage became more apparent with each sentence and broke as his throat formed the words of his former friend. Former because he’d found himself as one of Dr. Thompson’s experimental new treatments. A treatment that brought back too much Hyujin couldn’t cope with - was forced to confront - before he was ready.

The ward still felt hollow - missing in the sound of Hyujin’s laugh.

You would’ve been impressed with the way Jaebum was laying into the doctor. He was holding his own against the orderly at his arms until the Bull snuck behind him and brought him falling down to the cold concrete floor.

That was the last you saw of Jaebum as you were ushered outside the doors. You faced them for a long time. No one questioned why you stood at the entrance as Jaebum’s yelling dulled to nothing. It was too late for you to run back and play the role of knight in shining armor and standing in front of the door would only make the staff assume you were waiting to cause a scene.

Turning on your heel you headed towards the living area. Your mind racing heavily with indecision and not paying attention to the overcrowded chairs and couches. You bypassed them all to head to your favorite window seat. It was opposite to the one everyone knew as Jaebum’s; reading a new book every week during free time. It was so engrained to the fabric of the facility that no one tried to take it from him. Not even Ian.

You folded into yourself as soon as you sat down on the window seat. Your chin pressed into your shoulder so you could get a better look outside. The vibrant colors of changing leaves reminding you that fall was coming. Maybe they would let you work outside if you were good? You were tired of doing bathroom and kitchen duties, but because of Ian’s latest stunt no one was allowed outside. Not until the fences were made higher with wire curled along the top.

If thoughts could be breathed into existence, you were positive you alone would be deemed responsible for Ian walking, right then and there, through the facility's double doors. Of course, Ian could never simply enter a room quietly.

Christian entered every room like a force. Wild and unpredictable. Mother Nature couldn’t compete with his massive hurricane personality. No one could come close, because underneath all that unhinged nature was a magmatism that far outreached just good looks.

Was Christian good looking? Devilishly so. It was his way with words, however, that left many people reeling. Not just fellow patients, but staff as well. He was painfully charming and, if you weren’t prepared for his wide-set smile directed in your direction, you were going to find yourself in trouble. Deep, deep Christian-flavored trouble. The staff had even labeled him with a warning of “verbal jujitsu” - you had to stay miles ahead of the conversation or you’d find yourself like the recently fired psych tech who’d handed over the ward keys without a second thought.

Seriously. That’s how Christian escaped this time. All the other times, well, the man could be considered the second coming of Houdini.

“How have you been, Bob? Are your feet still giving you grief, Margo?”

It was impressive how he acted like it wasn’t a big deal he’d magically reappeared. The guard and orderlies awkwardly keep watch over the double doors he’d come through like he’d disappear back into thin air.

You hated how happy you became hearing the richness of his voice. The way his accent reminded you of the battle of wills on what was the proper way to say, “water,” and the teasing you gave him about constantly saying, “Naurr”.

“It’s Margaret, jackass,” the older psych tech mumbled in reply. She didn’t even bother to look up from putting a new bandage on Bob’s hands.

“Missed you too, babe.”

You watched his reflection in the safety of the glass of the window. You didn’t want to show how eager you were to see him - or to find out that every time he left the ward became almost too much to bear alone.

In the safety of the window, you could pretend the call to freedom was what kept your eyes hypnotized. Not the sleeveless tee he’d tucked inside the waist of skinny jeans that hugged to the muscles like paint or the layers of tattoos that covered honey skin. He wasn’t tan when he’d left. Where had Ian’s adventures taken him this time?

You would get the chance to ask him yourself.

When his eyes caught sight of your huddled frame curled in the window seat his trajectory changed completely. He didn’t think you’d noticed him yet, but it didn’t stop his infamous megawatt smile from brightening up his features and the butterflies he’d left trapped in your gut instantly springing back to life.

The only downside? You were more than positive Ian saw you only as a sister. If he’d thought of you in the past as anything else you would’ve definitely known by now. As much as Ian was known for his charisma and whirlwind energy, he was also known for slipping into the janitor’s closet with more than a few now-fired staff members.

In a matter of seconds, he left the mirage of the window to become real beside you. The smell of cigarettes and his preferred cologne enveloped you, instantly turning the space intimate. You tried your best to ignore him. Ian would receive nothing but the side eye from you after the latest shit he’d pulled.

He let out a heavy sigh as a finger playfully poked into your side. He wiggled the digit in a weak attempt to tickle you thinking it would be enough for you to finally look at him. Fat chance. Using your elbow, you pushed down with just enough force to dislodge him from your side. The act forced a heavy sigh to flare his nostrils as he leaned back against the window.

“Come on, ‘Roo. You can’t be that mad at me?”

Of course, he would use your nickname. The nickname you earned one night when he’d tried to tickle you until you couldn’t breathe. To be honest, he thinks you’d kicked him accidentally in the chest because you might wet yourself. The truth? Ian had gotten dangerously close. A few times it felt like his lips were just a few sharp breaths away from landing on yours, and that night you’d felt hollow. So hollow. All you wanted was to burn and Ian…he was so full of fire and life and for once you wanted to know what it felt like to be filled with something other than emptiness.

You wanted to catch fire too.

So you’d kicked out at him in panic. Hence how you became his Kangaroo. His ‘Roo.

“Actually,” you began, biting out the world with each syllable. “I can be upset with you and I most definitely am.”

“Don’t be like that, ‘Roo. I know you missed me.”

“No, I didn’t. It was rather peaceful while you were off on whatever antics you decided to get into.”

A tsk sent his bottom lip into a pout as he crossed his arms. His shoulders lean further down the window and slightly into your view.

God, why did he have to be so heartbreakingly handsome?

You refused to make eye contact with him. Don’t do it. It’s a trick. You knew it was a trick. A sneaky ploy and yet…you looked. One look was all it took and Ian knew he had you.

“I missed you.” His voice caressed your skin like velvet causing it to erupt in goosebumps. “So, I know if I missed you that can only mean that you missed me.”

A snort of disbelief left you as you finally gave him what he’d been asking: your full and undivided attention.

“Is that how it works, Ian?”

“Ah!” He beamed. “She finally looks at me.”

You couldn’t keep your eyes from rolling as you tried to face away from him, but Ian wasn’t having it.

“I shouldn’t even do that.”

“Where is all this hostility coming from?” He pouted. “Did you experience another one of Dr. Thompson’s riveting group circles?”

“It’s not funny, Ian. You always leave.” You hated how your voice betrayed you. The way it cracked before you could glue it back together. “You go and leave me here, without you, all the time. One of these days you may not come back.”

All the playfulness slowly drained from his features. The sly smile wilted to a grimace as deep brown eyes scanned over your face. Calculating your words with the body language of guarded arms and saddened eyes. His hands gently grabbed at your elbows to loosen your arms before turning you to him. His head dipped down just a bit to make sure he had you at eye level.

“Hey, ‘Roo. I’m sorry. I come back for you, you know that right?” You knew he was lying, but try telling that to the butterflies fluttering around like crazy in your gut. “These assholes could never catch me if I didn’t turn myself in, and I only turned myself in to get back to you.”

You didn’t know what you would’ve said at that moment. Maybe something he wanted to hear or maybe - finally - you’d have the guts to call him out on his bullshit. Luckily for you, the muffled sound of Jaebum’s screaming slowly grew louder until his struggling body was brought through the double doors from therapy.

“Let me go, you assholes!”

You’d never seen Jaebum fight so fiercely before. The way he flailed his arms to find a way to get them released along with his legs kicking out like a madman. They practically dragged him down the hall towards seclusion. For a split second, in his struggle, his eyes landed on you. His gaze held yours for what felt like a lifetime until the spell was broken. It felt like slow motion as his face turned to see Ian on your right and all the fight drained from his body.

Did he think he was fighting for Ian? Himself? Jaebum was never much for acting out. That was usually Ian who created trouble. Maybe that was why he looked so shocked seeing Jaebum being dragged down to seclusion.

“Oi! What the fuck is this?”

Ian was up off the window seat in seconds. A couple of orderlies were already coming out from behind the nursing station to meet him halfway. Whatever they were saying, you weren’t all too sure. Ian was doing his usual of screaming and shoving causing the orderlies to prepare for a fight. The patients closest to all the commotion desperately trying to get out of the way.

It was all chaos. All classic Ian. The only non-classic thing was Jaebum looking at you in a way you’d never noticed before. It created a row of questions that sat heavily on your tongue and ones you weren’t sure he would ever be willing to answer.

It wasn’t until everything had settled down again that you snuck inside the room that held group therapy. Your eyes instantly homing in on Jaebum’s chair and underneath it one of his grandfather’s books.

Before you dared to push all the way through into the room you gave one last cautious glance to the recreation room and slipped inside. You made sure to hold the door so it didn’t click into place. There was no denying if you were caught sneaking in somewhere you weren’t meant to be you’d be joining Jaebum in your own seclusion room.

The sterile room with its egg-white walls was most definitely not your favorite. The only way to add your own source of color to its walls was to display your thoughts - projecting them out like a fucked up home movie that you’d rather forget.

You made sure to cut across the room silently. Your legs bending at the knee to swoop down to grab the worn-down cover and secure it to your chest.

You couldn’t explain why as you made your way out of the room towards the upper floor that held the seclusion rooms what made you want to do this for him. It’s not like he would thank you, but you weren’t looking for that.

It wasn’t hard to notice the way Jaebum cared for his late grandfather's things. From the sweater he wore daily that was meticulously cleaned and laundered to the few books Jaebum was able to keep from his collection. He coveted them the way others valued trophies but it wasn’t praise that Jaebum found secluded inside their pages: it was peace.

You didn’t know much about him. Jaebum wasn’t much of a sharer. He was reserved. The only way to know him was by the pages you held close to your chest. So, you weren’t terribly sure why you were doing this for him except for the fact you believed no one should go without something that they loved.

Just as you were about to round the last corner to the hallway that held seclusion rooms 1 through 3, you caught a flash of an orderly speaking to a nurse. From the brief moment you’d caught before you found the safety of the opposite wall, they were more than likely flirting.

Ted. That was the name written on his uniform. He’d called Ian a “Psycho,” a handful of times. You wondered if Ted knew the nurse he worshiped spent the same handful of nights sneaking inside Ian’s dorm.

“Do you maybe want to go get breakfast in the morning?”

Breakfast?! You mouthed to yourself before you snuck another peek around the corner.

“Oh, I don’t know, Ted. I might have plans later.”

If your eyes could roll back any harder you would’ve seen brain cells. You knew exactly what her supposed plans were. You could already hear the moans that echoed down the halls like a haunting. The only thing haunted here would be you.

You didn’t have to see Ted’s expression to know he was defeated. He was probably wondering how someone could refuse breakfast or maybe he was finally growing tired of being told no. The mystery of the unknown in this love triangle would sadly (not really) remain a mystery. You didn’t really care if they had breakfast together or hunted Easter eggs. You just wanted them to finish their awkward conversation and leave the damn hallway.

A few more strangled pieces of conversation later and you could hear the shuffling of feet. Quickly, you moved inside a linen closet and quietly shut the door. Your ears straining - waiting - to hear a pair of feet move past your location so you could finish what you came to do.

Every second you were out here and not inside your own dorm waiting for the nurses to come in and check you were there was one second too many in a chance at punishment. After a few more minutes went by and the coast sounded relatively clear, you creeped out from the linen closet and dashed towards the seclusion rooms.

“Jaebum!?” You half whispered half yelled. “Jay!”

“What the hell are you doing over here?”

Ah, there was that condescending voice you’d grown accustomed to. Following the sound of his voice, and with the help of his fingers hanging out of the small seclusion window, you darted towards the back of the hall. Your arms still securely held onto his grandfather’s book and only began to loosen as you got closer to the door.

“I wanted to bring you something before they placed it in lost and found.”

With another cautious glance down the hall, your fingers wrapped around the edges of the book's spine. You offered it up to him and gently started to push it through the small window. Jaebum hadn’t spoken since he noticed what you held in your hands. His fingers overlapped yours as he took it from you. His arms immediately brought it inside with him with the sound of pages flipping while he made sure each page was still accounted for.

“How did you-“ he began, but his words quickly died out.

“Can you believe it ladies and gentlemen? For once, he was too stunned to speak,” you teased.

Jaebum’s eyes narrowed in on your face. His hands wagged the book as if he was going to hit you over the head with it. Who knows, he might have if there wasn’t a 30-pound door stationed between you.

“I’m serious. You came all this way to give me this?”

You shrugged his words off like what you’d done wasn’t a big deal. Both of you knew it was. So many factors that could lead you to where he was, or worse, if they believed you were trying to steal someone else’s property. Which, they one hundred percent would even though kleptomania wasn’t part of your conga line list of disorders.

“I remember how much his things matter to you. I didn’t want Bull or Kojak The Great Dick to get a hold of it. I know they wouldn’t have respected it after today.”

You’d expected a lot of things to come out of this exchange. The main one? At least a thank you. All you were getting now felt like the cold shoulder that featured a very unnerving stare. With every second you were feeling more self-conscious and it took everything in you not to shout, “Boo!” in an attempt to get him to blink.

You couldn’t take the awkwardness of the exchange any longer. Your feet were already backpedaling as your arms swung, thumb extended out, to indicate your exit before you spoke.

“Great well, this was a fun chat-“

“He lies to you, you know.”

Jaebum’s words took you by surprise. You were sure that was the point. His face was set in deep lines of determination as if what he needed to say was something you needed to adhere to like the gospel from the Bible.

“Okay, Jay I’ll bite: who is he?”

“You know who I’m talking about. Ian. It’s who he is. He doesn’t know how to tell the truth, and you always set yourself up for failure with him.”

Maybe Jaebum thought he was being helpful - calling to light all things you were aware of but couldn’t bring yourself to say out loud. You must have seemed too weak - gullible - in his eyes for him to believe he needed to say these things.

You eyed him coolly through the window. Your tongue rolled around inside your cheek trying to decide what exactly you should say at this moment. Did he want recognition that you knew you were an idiot? What did it matter to him if you knew Ian didn’t give two fucks about you.

So, the only thing you could settle on was the beginning of a long sigh before you spoke: “I know I might look like a love-sick puppy to you, Jay, but I know my place.”

He tried saying your name to stop you. You just ignored him as you shook your head and allowed yourself to begin to move back down the hall towards the safety of your own dorm.

“It’s alright, Jay I get it. Take care of your grandfather’s things better, okay?”

You didn’t wait to finish your sentence before you were already turning to head down the hallway. The bottom of your feet itching for you to sprint in the opposite direction. Your mind raced over Jaebum’s words and matched them with the growing chasm in your chest.

So lost in your head, you barely caught the sound of his parting, “Thank you,” as you bolted around the corner.

184 notes · View notes

lunar-years · 9 months

Note

THESE TAGS YES.

i loooove jamiekeeley (whichever way u wanna read that) however i think jamie was firmly over her in a romantic way by then. also re roy i just think of that one post like “everything is about football except for jamie except jamie is actually about keeley. but keeley is also about jamie so.”

and then we kinda cement royjamie’s relationship as positive with roy forgiving jamie and by the end 100% they are friends. roy getting close to jamie and being vulnerable with him and then saying he’s proud of him only to follow with “btw back off from keeley”….. [jamie voice] ok! awesome! i feel so great about myself and whatever we have going on. which is fucking nothing. apparently. cuz u were just buttering me up

this is so poorly written and nothing no one hasn’t already said. i just needed to rant -_- and then roy comes out looking like the bad guy but he’s literally not. he’s just repressed & even with keeley being the one to choose she’s still just a prop. which ok tbf with rj i can see how that happens ngl,, but that doesn’t mean i have to like it LOL

Me forced to look at my own spelling /grammar errors because its so annoying to add tags on this damn tumblr app 🫣 *roy springS

Anyway YEAH!! The only thing I don’t agree with you about is that I do very much think Jamie is still in love with Keeley romantically in the finale and I think he was being genuine to Roy when he told him as such. I just also think he’s in love Roy!

To me that scene is entirely about royjamie rather than keeley at its core. The whole reason Roy arranges it is because he loves keeley and wants to get back with her but he also loves Jamie (and probably doesn’t realize it yet, but DOES know he can’t stand the thought of Jamie not being in his life). he’s downright terrified being with keeley is going to change his relationship with Jamie and he quite essentially Can’t Deal With That. So he’s trying to preemptively tell Jamie how it’s going to be, because it NEEDS to be that way in Roys head since he wants to have both Keeley AND jamie as part of his life and this is the only way he can see himself getting that. He’s not intentionally trying to hurt Jamie (well, up until Jamie rightfully pushes back and Roy gets egotistical and pissy about it!). I think he really thinks he’s doing the right thing and being the bigger person by asking Jamie to back off?? Which is obviously so absurd and misguided but also so very Roy. Of course it doesn’t go well because he’s a repressed AND entitled asshole about it and thereby hurts Jamie in the process. But like. I think the intentions were warped but coming from a good place?

Meanwhile from Jamie’s POV he thought he was having literally the best day of his life, where crush #1 Keeley agreed (and was extremely excited about) going to Brazil with him AND crush #2 Roy finally asked him to hang out outside of training!! On possibly a date!!! And then he’s telling Jamie he’s PROUD of him, which is like, literally what Jamie has been waiting to hear from him!! Jamie must fully think he’s dreaming because DAMN. But then Roy (seemingly randomly) pivots to talking about Keeley and acting like his relationship with her was so much more Important and Real than Jamie’s (which. It wasn’t. Not in Jamie’s mind, certainly). I think Jamie is SO hurt because he thought he and Roy were really friends on the verge of more and then Roy instead decided to like. Be a giant dick again! Out of nowhere! So Jamie says what he says to hurt him back just as much.

It’s about keeley but it’s not about keeley, if you will. And the lines are all crossed.

Which is to say, I don’t hate that scene as much as most people. I think it actually exemplifies (in the messiest way imaginable) how deeply royjamie care about each other and how goddamn terrible they are at successfully communicating it to each other, let alone learning how to navigate those feelings together.

I do hate that Keeley lacks onscreen agency in her big “choice,” because there really IS no choice with royjamie behaving like that (though I think she’d have turned them both down regardless). And her telling them as much happens offscreen with no follow up!! Which sucks!!

#royjamie #royjamiekeeley #ted lasso #I know people hate this scene and I simply don’t.#I get why others do though!!#keeley jones #Roy Kent #Jamie Tartt

55 notes · View notes

eskiix · 1 month

Text

Coming Soon!

LITG Roberto x MC Fic

Post-Villa, Enemies to Lovers

Summary:

Louise cares too much about everything, and the only thing Roberto cares about is his career. Neither is strictly true, but that's how everyone sees them. Including each other. —-- Just when Louise thinks everyone’s moving on and leaving her behind, she’s handed the golden opportunity to fix everything by planning her best friend’s hen do. At least, that’s the idea, anyway. One week of sun, sea, cocktails, clubbing, and… the world’s most arrogant pilot.

Eeeee! I'm so excited to reveal the title and summary of this fic! This is the third (and possibly final) long fic I'm writing for my Post-Villa Universe. It's been a while coming, but Louise is at long last getting her own spin off - and with the love of my life, Roberto, no less! I've got three chapters fully written, and am hoping to post once I've got four or five in the bag. And um... these are definitely the messiest main characters I've ever come up with, but if there's one thing I love to see, it's character growth. Note - While this fic is a spin-off, you will not have to read AIDON or PBYR to understand what is happening. I'll be writing it so it can be read as a standalone.

I'll be writing from both points of view - so for Louise's chapters, I'll be posting the picture above with each chapter announcement. And for Roberto's I'll be using the one below:

#Too Much and Not Enough #New LITG fic #Fic #Litg fanfic #Litg fanfiction #Litg Roberto #Litg S6 #Litg season 6 #PBYR #Playing By Your Rules #AIDON #An Infinite Deal of Nothing #Bea talks

17 notes · View notes

albywritesfiction · 5 months

Note

Aro anon here! Dw, I've never felt that you as the author was pushing us to hate Ædan for not loving MC back. I think you've done fairly well, sort of, holding court(?) and showcasing asks without pushing any particular viewpoints.

Important addendum to my thoughts: I personally don't mind being uncomfy! like, not in this instance. Some fiction should be uncomfortable, especially attempting to delve into certain topics. It might be the only way to do it with honestly. It's worth it to read about the raw reactions Ædan gets. I don't want to police people's feelings on the matter - I think that's weird when we're talking fiction. Or worse, for any anons to be less honest going forward! But i do want to encourage self-examination, and give my own honest, first-reaction perspective to consider

I appreciate that you aren't planning to glorify sentiments like that, but i do hope you won't shy away from it altogether. Like, romance is messy, it can cause a lot of "ugly" feelings, and u should get to write the messiest version possible in a romance game 😂 where else to explore this? It'd be different if i was giving advice to a friend about a guy, but this is a story. Pls dw about making MC have "correct" feelings. Indulging in being vengeful, petty, or utterly enamoured with Ædan in the complete opposite direction from before could be really fun! MC being angry at Ædan specifically for not loving MC back is normal, and I think it'd make sense as an option in-game. But it'd be best, I think, to have varied reaction to this in-game. I think it'd be an interesting bit of characterization too, seeing who'd support MC unilaterally in this and who'd give more push-back against an MC who thinks like this.

e.g i think people already want the option to shove their happy relationship with Ædrick/Cyffrin in Ædan's face. There could definitely be a "if you'd picked me, you could've been this happy too 😒" bend to it 😂 so many possible reactions from everyone involved to be had:

Is Ædan actually jealous? What if not? I feel like he already knows his life would've been exponentially easier if he was in love with MC, but he had a decade and still couldn't force it. He knows what he'd feel like in a relationship with MC - utterly miserable. Maybe he'd just be happy that MC has found the happiness he feels with Helene in Ædrick/Cyffrin and say so. Would a Vengeance!MC be incensed about that?? What if Ædan was jealous and regreful! Would MC be pleased with that? Just openly gleeful? How do Ædrick/Cyffrin feel about being used for this so transparently? Or about an MC that's still so focused on Ædan, has such strong reactions to Ædan's opinions, even in a relationship with them?

Messy messy messy 🤗

Hi aro Anon! I was really glad to receive this from you as soon as I had posted my response to your ask, and I'm sorry it's taken me quite a while to respond to this one 😓

It's quite a relief to hear that I don't seem to be biased towards any one version of things. I've been kind of worried about deciding what things should I put a reasonable limit on so that ATE doesn't become too overwhelming to work on while balancing it with the interactivity and branching narratives that I want to delve into, so I'm glad to hear that it doesn't sound like ATE's turning into more of a kinetic rather than interactive novel just yet 😅

I'm glad to hear that you're open-minded about reading, even for works that may go beyond your comfort zone. I especially like how you, in your own words, "want to encourage self-examination, and give my own honest, first-reaction perspective to consider."

I also greatly appreciate all the insights and thoughts you've shared, especially about romance in fiction, the variation in responses to the entire mess Ædan created, and the potential spaghetti of emotions that the cast may experience 🤭

I've reread your ask more times that I can count since I received it all the way back in November 2023 in my attempt to write a sufficient response, and each time I did, I've felt grateful that you took the time to write such a detailed, insightful, and reassuring ask, so I'd like to thank you for sending in this ask, aro Anon, and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

#after the end #ate-if #ate-if asks #ate: mc #ate: ædan #ate: ædric #ate: cyfrin

29 notes · View notes

ksmutsociety · 5 months

Text

Featured Fics - November

At the end of each month, members have the opportunity to select 1 fic from the last 30 days (or retain the current fic, or a previously posted one, if no new fics have been posted this month) to showcase on this list, as well as on our updated Featured Fics page.

You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) ➢ written by: @wooahaeproductions

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x F.Reader Word Count: 15.2k Summary: You and your neighbor, Jihoon used to be best friends as kids. As time passed, unfortunate events and the cliques of junior high tore the two of you apart. Several years later, you find yourselves in the same college but the two of you actively avoid each other and some people would even say you were enemies. As fate would have it, breakups lead you both to wonder if there's ever a chance to rekindle the friendship.

Something Sweet ➢ written by: @anyamaris

Pairing: Kyungsoo x F.Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: You and your friend have started a weekly ritual of baking in your apartment, and you both find yourselves enjoying each others company more and more.

Challenge Me ➢ written by: @seokgyuu

Pairing: OT13 x AFAB!Reader Word Count: 85k+ Summary: Your best friend challenges you to sleep with 13 guys this semester and you end up in the messiest love story of your life.

F*ck My Thighs ➢ written by: @ourdawnishotterthanourday

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x F.Reader Word Count: 17.2k Summary: Ever since you started working at XTREMEGEAR, you’ve been hopelessly obsessed with Lee Seokmin...god damn Lee Seokmin and his fucking divine thighs. You didn’t think you’d ever stand a chance with him. But when your company forces you to go to a sports and wellness retreat with the whole HR department, you discover that you haven’t been as discreet about your little crush as you thought you were.

On The Ropes ➢ written by: @raplinesmoon

Pairing: Seokjin x F.Reader Word Count: 18.1K Summary: Kim Seokjin had been washed-up, run-down, and forgotten by the world of boxing. He’d settled on spending the rest of his life fading into obscurity. What he doesn’t count on is having a new trainee walk into his gym, and meeting you in the process.

Translucence ➢ written by: @icequeenbae

Pairing: Cha Eunwoo x F.Reader Word Count: 4.2k Summary: It’s your first short vacation with Dongmin since you started dating, and you get a chance to stay at an extremely fancy hotel in Jeju. The ocean-view suite is perfect, yet there’s a small inconvenience… or a genius design?

More Than You Know ➢ written by: @beomcoups

Pairing: Vernon x F.Reader Word Count: 2.5k Summary: A night of fright is no delight, as your boyfriend harbors a secret that changes the trajectory of your lives.

Otherworldly ➢ written by: @kwanisms

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader Word Count: 29.2k Summary: While watching a meteor shower with her best friend, Y/N witnesses a UFO falling from the sky and crashing on her family's farm. The two rush to the wreckage site and find an alien spacecraft with a rather mysterious survivor.

Smoke & Mirrors ➢ written by: @shuadotcom

Pairing: Seungcheol x AFAB!Reader Word Count: 3.6k Summary: You’re feeling uncharacteristically adventurous and your boyfriend just can’t say no to you.

Eros et Psyche ➢ written by: @hobeemin

Pairing: Im Jaebeom x F.OC Word Count: 5.1k Summary: A retelling of the Greek myth of how the God of Love Eros met and fell in love with Psyche.

#featured fics

22 notes · View notes

thetaleoflevi · 2 years

Text

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Lovers Who Hesitate

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Content: NSFW, Modern AU

Content Warnings: Insinuated poor relationship with family, explicit language, workaholic reader, alcohol *wine, drunk reader, vomit, 18+ smut, rub a dub dub…sorry, hand job through boxers, PIV sex, breast play, clitoral stimulation, scratching, more 18+ things, 18+ warning no. 3!, friends to lovers

Word Count: 13.4k

Description: Just a whole fic dedicated to Levi and Reader acting like dumb lovers throughout their friendship.

A/N: I hate writing descriptions//summaries. You guys know this and yet I still mention it every time I post something. Apologies :p. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy! 💙

⭐️Taglist: @urfilgoth @ackermandick

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were in love. You fell so hard, and it was the messiest thing you’d ever felt. It was upsetting when you finally came to terms with it, because you had given into one of those things you said you wouldn’t get into. “Money and success are the way of life,” you vividly remember your mother telling you when you were just twelve years old. Love had no room in the equation, or so your days on this popular, lonely planet showed you.

The universe was cruel for letting someone like him get in the way of you making life your bitch. It was stupid. He had a habit of walking into your office and watching you work, knowing he had things to get to before the end of the day. You found it childish whenever you blushed at the feeling of his body heat radiating from behind you. He enjoyed the rage that engulfed you when you were forced to stay later because your boss was a lazy asshole who pretended he didn’t know how to do his job so that you would do it for him. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Right…?

“Hey, Levi?” You poke your head through the doorway of his office.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” He spins his chair to face you, folding his hands in his lap, giving you all of his attention. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, but you can feel your ears getting warmer by the second.

“Oh, um, I was gonna go get some coffee from the shop across the street, and I was wondering if you wanted something.” You straighten your posture, your whole body in the room now.

“Did you ask anybody else?” His lip quirks up a little. You’re too kind for your own good.

“N-No. You’re kind of my only friend here,” you chuckle nervously, your whole face now growing warm at the lame confession.

“I see. I think it’s only fair that I join you, then. As your friend.” He stands up from his chair, grabbing his coat from the hook built into his door.

“I can just bring it to you. You don’t have to come with me,” you insist. “It’s right across the street. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

“It’s lunchtime. I doubt you’ll be back in two minutes.” He grabs his keys, putting them in his pocket as he nears the exit. “The lunch rush is killer for that tiny shop.“ He’s out the door before you are, but when he continues walking and doesn’t hear you behind him, he turns around.

“Come on. We can even sit inside if you want.”

You nod, an awkward smile on your face as you follow closely behind him.

—

“Have you had anything from this place? I’m looking at the premium black tea. It says premium but in my experience, anything with the word premium before it is a simple product with an extra charge.” He scans the board filled top to bottom with different items handwritten in a curly font.

“Actually, I haven’t. I just really needed some caffeine, but my go-to cafe is closed today.” You inch closer to the person in front of you as the line moves forward.

“Ah, then I guess this will be a first time for the both of us.” He looks away from the board, facing you. Your cheeks have a pink tint to them. You shove your sweaty hands into your pockets, still clenching them tightly.

“I can help the next guest,” the cashier calls to you and Levi. “What can I get started for you guys today?” The brunette says, emerald eyes flickering from your breasts to your eyes.

“I have a question about your premium black tea. What about it makes it a premium drink? There’s an extra charge for it, so it must be deserving of it.” Levi talks to the cashier, not getting full attention from the him. His name tag said ‘Eren’.

“Uh, yeah, give me a second. Mikasa!” He calls the black haired woman in the other room. She was quick to get beside him.

“Yes, Eren?” Her soft spoken voice was a great contrast to her pretty face.

“The guest wants to know what makes the premium black tea a premium drink.”

“Oh, the tea leaves are imported from China. The price per pound is a bit expensive, so we do want to make sure we make our money back eventually.” Her tone is flat as she answers any follow up questions Levi has.

“Did you need anything else, Eren?” Her voice gains its softness again.

“No, that was it. Thanks, Mikasa.” He winks at her, the woman’s pale face going red in seconds. She walks away, quickly turning to hide her blush.

“I’ll try the tea, then. What do you want?” Levi turns to you.

“Coffee,” you blurt. You’re not blind. You can see the direction the man’s eyes are looking in, and it’s unsettling.

“Okay. Did you want any sugar, milk, or creamer?” Levi catches onto your uncomfortableness.

“Yes.”

“Okay. She’ll have her coffee with milk and sugar.”

The cashier rings it all up, giving Levi a receipt. Once the drinks are ready, Levi goes to pick them up. “It’s polite to look customers in the eye when helping them.” He picks up the two cups, looking at Eren’s name tag one more time before going to the table you sat at.

“This one is mine and this one is yours.” He puts the cup down in front of you. “I don’t think we should come back here.”

“Why not?” You bring the cup to your lips, the hot liquid instantly burning your tongue as it enters your mouth.

“I know somewhere better. We’ll have to finish our work quicker, but I promise it’s worth it.”

Why does he have to be so impressive? Why can’t he give you a reason to hate him? A reason to focus solely on your life and forget about him.

“That sounds nice, but when aren’t we slammed with work? We got lucky today.” You attempt to push away from the idea.

“Why does it have to be during work?” His sterling eyes look into yours, his focus unwavering.

You think you should just come clean. You can’t stray off the path of success. Sadly, happiness isn’t part of the equation either.

“Levi, I-“

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. Your boss’s name pops up on the screen.

“One second,” you say, clicking the green button. Your boss wanted to know where you were, and unfortunately you got an earful.

Levi took the time to admire your features. Your lips formed the syllables of every word so elegantly, and your word choice is so careful, like you’ve prepared for conversations you haven’t had yet for days. He looks down at your neck, a simple necklace decorating it. Levi realizes something as you defend yourself on the phone. You’re beautiful, kind, and you know what you want, but you seem unavailable. You seem oblivious to his advances, or just plain uninterested.

“Okay. See you there,” you say, ending the phone call. You exhale frustratedly. “Boss called. I have to go.” You stand up, pushing your chair in with one hand, picking your cup up with the other.

“If you have to go, I have to go.” A small smile forms on his face.

“No, you’re fine. He didn’t ask for you.”

“If I sit here alone, it defeats the purpose of me coming with you. I wanted to spend my break with you.” He stands, repeating the same process as you.

“Sorry, Levi. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll buy the drinks next time.” You blush as he gets closer. The smell of his cologne wafts into your nose, and suddenly you feel even more nervous than before.

“It’s fine. We’re not coming back here. Let’s go.” His palm lands on your upper back, guiding you towards the exit. He turns to look at the cashier one more time, giving him a cold expression before following you back to the building.

You went right back to your office and slaved yourself for another three hours, sipping on the coffee that got cold as you focused on the endless reports on your computer screen. You clicked the last key for the day, slouching in your chair immediately after. Your phone buzzed on the desk, and the screen glowed with a notification. Levi’s name popped up.

Have dinner with me?

Your blood ran cold and your heartbeat was erratic. What about you intrigued him so much? Why did he want to spend time with you? What made you special?

Okay. Nothing fancy.

Just for tonight. Let me take you somewhere nice.

‘This sounds like a date’ you typed before deleting the message.

This is a one time thing, Ackerman. What time?

9PM. I’ll pick you up.

Deal.

—

It’s eight forty-five and you’re still panicking about how you should do your hair. It’s so unmanageable, too. It keeps sticking out in different directions, and you’re stressing about it like hell.

Just parked. The reservation is for 9:30 and it’s a 20 minute drive. Not trying to rush you or anything :)

No. The smiley face. You wasted a solid three minutes staring at it, and your hair still looked crazy.

—

You got in his car, feeling proud of yourself for being able to tame your mane.

“God,” Levi says, gawking at you. He’s blushing and you don’t even notice because you’re too focused on second guessing your outfit choice.

“W-What? Don’t we have to get going? It’s nine ten.” You try to distract him from your appearance.

“Forget the reservation. I’m cooking for you.”

“Oh, but you spent all that money. Let me at least pay you back.” You open your purse and pull out an inch of your wallet before Levi pushes it back in.

“It doesn’t matter. You can pay me back by letting me cook for you. I promise my cooking isn’t as bad as you might think.”

You chuckle before giving in.

“Okay, fine.”

He grins, putting the gear in drive, before driving you to his lovely home.

—

“Make yourself at home. Can I get you like something to drink?” He taps your shoulder, signaling for you to give him your coat.

“I’ll have what you’re having.” You feel strange in his house, not comfortable, but not totally uncomfortable. Being in a house that isn’t yours makes your nervous for a number of reasons, the main one being that if something breaks or goes missing, you’ll be the first person to blame as the invitee.

“I was gonna have a glass of wine. Are you sure you’ll have the same?” He goes into the kitchen, heading towards a cabinet where he stores fancy alcohol that is reserved only for the most special occasions. The occasion of today—you’re spending time with him outside of work, and that makes him feel like a hundred lightning bolts are powering him up.

He feels good about having you in his home. He prefers it because it’s more personal for him to cook for you than to pay for someone else to do it.

“Yeah, that should be fine.” You tiptoe towards the kitchen, stopping on the nonexistent line that divides the kitchen and the living room. You watch Levi as he skims through the labels on endless bottles of wine, not knowing that he’s choosing the most elegant one to share with you.

“This one looks good. We’ll start you off with half a glass because I don’t know what your alcohol tolerance is like.” He reaches up to grab two bulbous glasses from the cupboard.

“I don’t drink much wine, so I wouldn’t be able to tell you either.” You chuckle, still awkwardly standing between the two rooms.

The scarlet colored liquid pours into the glasses, yours only filled halfway, as promised, while Levi’s fills up just a little more.

“I’m gonna boldly assume that you have a high tolerance for alcohol. Correct me if i’m wrong.”

“Exactly. I’m still going to sip on it, but only because I’m trying to prove a point.” He goes into the fridge and brings out colorful ingredients for the meal he’s going to wow you with.

“Which is?” You question.

“Hmm…I need this, and this…and some of this,” he mutters to himself as he picks more ingredients from the drawers. He puts them all in a basket, thoroughly washing them before setting the basket on the counter so that he can rinse his cutting board and a knife. The water shuts off and he sets the cutting board over a damp towel.

“I know how to cook more than just scrambled eggs and ramen noodles.”

He finally says something about the way you’re still standing between the kitchen and living room, quirking a brow at the strangeness. “Sit on that stool for me, will you?” He points at a circle shaped stool that positions you in front of him, with his knife. He rolls up the sleeves of his light grey dress shirt before starting the prepping process for dinner.

You talked about so many things while watching him cook. How he got lured into the company you both work at, how much you both hated your lousy boss, dreams, places you’ve always wanted to go to. You got stuck on that last one for the longest time because Levi kept offering to take you to the places you only saw in your dreams. You settled for going on a spontaneous trip to Salzburg with him. The only rule was that it couldn’t be any time within the next two years, and that the trip had to be spontaneous. He agreed.

“It smells so fucking good, Levi.” You inhaled the smell that filled the air deeply. The profanity was a surprise, but he was glad you liked the aroma of the food he’d put so much effort into.

“One more minute.” He leans against the counter, watching as you eye your glass of wine. Half of it was gone, and you felt fine, or maybe you didn’t. Maybe that’s where the vulgar word came from.

“Time is a weird concept, don’t you think? In another dimension, the food would be done already, and in another dimension you would barely be putting it into the oven. I hate to break it to you, but in another dimension, we got carried away finding out about each other, and your food burned.”

Levi had figured out that day that your alcohol tolerance was weak. “I think it’s ready. Let’s get some food in your stomach.”

His oven mitts were cute. They were a gift from someone named Hange, and regardless of how stupid Levi thought the penguin littered, baby blue mitts were, he didn’t have the heart to throw them away. Hange moved hours—miles away, and these were one of his prized possessions.

—

“This is so good. Where did you learn to cook?” Halfway through the meal you sobered up a little. Partially because you stopped drinking the wine and stuffed your face a little.

“I’m self taught. I came to a realization during my final year of university,” he takes another sip of wine, taking his time to tell you his background of cooking, while you’re hanging onto every one of his words.

“What was the realization after all of that?” You ask, finally taking another sip of wine.

“I never want to live off of instant macaroni and cheese or frozen pizza ever again.” He picks up the perfect serving of vegetables and steak with his fork, feeding it into his mouth. “For something that takes two minutes to make, you get some shitty paste of a meal, when really, if you take more time and put in a little more effort, you can make something healthy—something that actually fills you.”

You suddenly feel ashamed of your stash of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

“Do you know how to cook?” He asks, washing down his last bite with a sip of wine.

“Not like this. I can cook you a piece of steak at most.” You savor the last bite of your meal. It’s something you wouldn’t even think to make in a million years.

“I can teach you, if you’d like,” his face warms up at the idea of spending even more time with you.

“No, I can’t ask you to do something like that for me. I’d only test your patience, and your patience is already tested at work.” You smile politely.

“I would have so much patience with you.”

Your face goes rosy at his last sentence. He didn’t mean it that way, but sometimes your mind likes making you think in that manner.

“Well, i’ll leave that at a maybe.”

—

“More wine?” He asks for the fifth time that night.

“Yes, please, Mr. Ackerman,” you slur. He had drank the same amount as you, maybe even more, yet it made less of an effect on him than you.

You stare blankly at the remaining drops at the bottom of your glass.

“On second thought, I don’t need it. It’s getting late, and I have to walk home,” your eyes were halfway shut and you spoke sluggishly.

“There’s no way you’re walking home in this state.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “And why is that? You’re telling me I can’t go home?”

You’re a mess. A stubborn, beautiful mess. Levi feels honored to be allowed to see you this way. You’re not stressing over work, you’re not stressing over family expectations. You’re intoxicated and honest.

“Maybe,” he replies to your cold gaze. “I’ll give you two options. One: you spend the night here. I have an extra room you can sleep in and i’ll be right next door if you need anything. Two: we sober up in the next few hours and i’ll drive you home as soon as I can.”

You go into a pensive state, struggling to remember the first option.

“One is my favorite number so i’ll go with that choice.”

At least you forgot how irritated you were a second ago when Levi said you couldn’t walk home.

“Levi, my favorite number is one,” you repeat.

“You mentioned that earlier.”

“Becauseeee, it’s so lonely. I could keep it company.” You blink. “Are you lonely? Am I keeping you company?”

“Yes.” That answered both of your questions.

“I’m so happy to be here with you, you know. I have something to tell you, but you can’t tell anyone. Okay?” You scooch closer to him, your shoulder touching his.

“Okay,” he says, mainly to entertain you.

You lean in, cupping his ear as you whisper what you’ve kept to yourself for months, maybe even a year now.

“I have a crush on you, Levi.” You giggle in his ear. “You can’t tell anyone, though.”

His cheeks are bright red, and suddenly it’s difficult to sit so close to you. His silence scares you, and you’re scared he might spill tea that isn’t meant to be spilled.

“Swear you won’t tell.”

“Who would I tell?” He asks, turning his head to face you.

“Your friend Hange and the people at work. Please don’t tell them, Levi. It’s embarrassing.” You hide your face behind his shoulder. “Swear.”

“Okay, I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

You come out of hiding and kiss his cheek multiple times, a surprise that spreads fire to his whole body.

“I like you a lot. I’ve been dying to do this since…” you hiccup. “I don’t remember, but it’s a really long time,” you slur as you hop onto his lap, holding his face in your hands as you pepper more kisses all over it.

‘It’s just kisses,’ Levi thinks to himself. If it goes further, he’ll put an end to it.

“Your hair is so soft,” you say, twirling a strand between your fingers. You sigh, your breath bringing goosebumps to his skin. Something must have disappointed you, because you stopped immediately and put your face in his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Levi asks, looking down at you. He’s hesitant, but eventually he puts a hand on your head, smoothing down some ruffled parts of your hair.

“I-I don’t want to say it. It’s embarrassing,” you speak into his shoulder.

“You said i’m your only friend. That means you should be able to tell me anything.”

You hum in agreement, lifting your head to face him once again. You pull the straps of your dress down, revealing your bare shoulders. You can’t look at him as you do it, so you look at the wall behind him.

“I-I want you to take me to the bedroom, Levi.” You lower the bust of your dress, exposing the matching red strapless bra you’re wearing.

He wants this so badly. He hasn’t wanted anything as much as he wants you, in so long.

“How about we get ready to sleep?” He pulls your dress back up, sliding your arms back into the straps.

“But Levi, I need you.” You squeeze his waist with your thighs.

“You need to sleep it off is what you need,” he says, holding onto the bottom of your dress so it doesn’t ride up when he carries you to the extra room.

“Okay, maybe next time,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder as he stands up. He carries you as if you weigh no more than a feather. He can hear what sounds like quiet snores coming from you before you even make it to the room. He flicks the light switch on with his back, before moving towards the bed. He lays you down on the comfy bed, but you refuse to let go of him. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck tightly.

“You wouldn’t let me sleep alone in here, would you?” You mumble, your eyes still closed.

“I think it would be inappropriate if I stayed,” he whispers as he unlinks your arms from his neck. He straightens his posture, looking down into your barely open eyes.

“Levi, stay,” you whine, reaching your arms towards him slowly like a sloth. “You have my consent, look.” You put a thumbs up and grin toothily. “You can even bring me a notepad and i’ll sign the legal documents needed for you to sit your ass in that chair.”

If he knew you would be so needy, he wouldn’t have continued to offer you more wine after the third glass. Then again, it was nice to know that you trusted him enough to be around him in this state.

He sighs knowing he’s lost the fight. He won’t lay in bed with you, he’ll just sleep in his home office chair. Before he sits down, he turns you onto your side, and brings the trash can close to the edge of the bed incase you wake up in the middle of the night feeling sick.

“You gonna go to sleep now?” He asks, getting comfortable in the chair.

Your eyes roll as you fight off sleep, but eventually you stop trying to open your eyes. You nod once they finally close, and Levi watches you to make sure you’re asleep for good.

Levi didn’t go to sleep until almost four in the morning because you kept moving onto your back, and every time you did he had to put you back on your side again. You wiggled into a position where you laid flat on your stomach, and Levi decided that he preferred for you to vomit on the bed than to choke on your vomit in your sleep.

You both slept peacefully until seven in the morning, when the alcohol had finally begun to irritate the lining of you stomach. Your cheeks felt hot, and you felt uncomfortable in every position you laid in. You looked over at Levi who had fallen asleep with his cheek resting in his palm. The squish was adorable, but you couldn’t enjoy it due to the discomfort in your guts.

Your stomach gurgled and you decided to make a run for it, almost tripping over the bottom of your dress as you sprinted to the bathroom.

Levi’s eyes snapped open, and he sharply inhaled as he woke up from his light slumber. His head turned rapidly in search of you, and he quickly discovered where you were due to the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut.

“Shit,” he muttered in a gravelly voice. He quickly stands up and traces your steps to meet you behind the bathroom door. He leans against the door, hearing all the upchuck, gagging, and coughing coming from you on the other side. This goes on for a good four minutes. He hears the way you groan after you think you’re done, only for you to gag before spilling your guts into the toilet again.

You spit into the toilet one last time before flushing, whining when you nearly collapse as you attempt to get off the floor. You blow your nose, throwing the evidence away, and immediately go for some water from the sink. You rinse your mouth a few times before actually swallowing some water.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks, his knuckles lightly knocking.

You open the door, startling him a little with your appearance. The beautiful makeup that you stunted the night before was now an enormous mess on your eyelids, waterline, and cheeks. The residue of mascara on your eyelashes left fan shaped marks on the upper part of your cheeks.

“I’m disgusting. D-Don’t ever let me drink like that again,” your eyes gloss over with newly formed tears that eventually slide down your cheeks.

“You’re fine, sweetheart.” Despite the mess of makeup all over your face, and the wet spot of vomit on the front of your dress, Levi still manages to pull you into his embrace. You sob openly, mainly due to the embarrassment of Levi hearing you throw up in his bathroom, and the fact that you smell horrendous, yet Levi still holds you like it doesn’t matter.

“We’re gonna get you cleaned up. You’re gonna shower, and then we’re gonna get that messy makeup off your face.”

You pull away and look up at him, resembling a raccoon with all the dark makeup around your eyes.

“I don’t have clothes to change into,” you nearly start crying again, but Levi prevents it.

“I have clothes you can wear. Wait here.” He leaves you for a few seconds to bring essentials for you. A clean towel, a shirt, and some sweatpants. He also brought you a new bar of soap, assuming you might not want to use the one he’s been using.

“Shower, change, then call me when you’re done. I’ll be in the kitchen making your hangover cure.” He sets everything down on the counter, and leaves you to it.

The warm water feels nice cascading over you despite your body already being uncomfortably warm. You refused to take a cold shower, even if it was probably better for you. The smell of the soap was comforting and it didn’t make you nauseous as you lathered it onto your body. You used it generously—the thought of having puke on your dress earlier was even more repulsing now. You examined the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shower caddy and reached for it to wash your hair. You hope your hair turns out as soft as Levi’s on the first use.

You finished up in the bathroom and called Levi as told. He was quick to follow your voice. You stood at the entrance of the door, holding the door in one hand, the other holding onto the doorframe. You looked adorable in his clothes, even with the heavy traces of makeup under your eyes.

“Let me help you take the makeup off. Sit on the counter.” He opens the bottom cabinets, crouching down to get some wipes. “I know they’re not as good as the ones you probably have, but they’ll do the job.” He stands up again, closing the cabinets. You’re already sitting on the counter.

“I’m sorry…” you say almost inaudibly. You don’t want to cry again, but damn, you feel pathetic.

He’s listening, so he doesn’t say anything. He pulls a wipe from the pack, wrapping it around his index finger to be able to clean with more precision.

“You did nothing wrong. It’s fine. Now stay still.” He gets closer, the wet towel inching towards your face until the coldness touches you. He wipes gently to make sure your skin doesn’t get irritated.

“I’m never drinking again. I’m never leaving my house again,” you babble.

“You still have to go to work. Again, stop moving.” He folds the towel, covering the dark makeup residing on it. The darkness around your left eye had been completely removed.

The coldness touches your face again, this time beneath your right eye.

“I don’t deserve your friendship, Levi. I don’t know how I can still face you after what happened last night. Why are you even my friend?” Your head slumps as your pessimistic mind takes over.

He raises your head and holds the bottom of your face, your cheeks squished between his thumb and the rest of his fingers in a semi firm grip. He wipes at the splotchiness around your left eye, total concentration taking over because he’s trying to avoid your eyeball.

“I told you to stop moving, but you wouldn’t listen so this is what it had to come to.” His focus remains on your right eye as he speaks, collecting all the color onto the clean part of the wipe. “I want you to know that I invited you out because I wanted to. I knew there was a chance something like this would happen, but I still wanted you to be here.” He moves back a little to see if you had any stains from the makeup.

“You throwing up in my bathroom doesn’t change the meaningful conversations we had yesterday.” He releases the hold be has on your face and throws the wipe away once he’s all done. “I would go through all of this again if it meant you would keep hanging out with me.” His hands lay on the counter beside your legs.

“All done. You’re back,” he says looking into your tired eyes. You look back into his eyes, and they look just as tired, maybe even more. He looks handsome even with his disheveled appearance. His soft hair sticks out at random parts of his head, resembling the sun.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mumble, looking away.

“Like what?” His tone is soft, and it runs smoothly. He leans in a little, just enough to see the blush rising on your cheeks closely.

“Like that, so attentively with those eyes. You’re making me nervous.” You feel trapped by him. His hands have yet to move from their position beside you legs, and you feel the urge to move. You don’t want to accidentally brush your leg against his hand, it would make the situation awkward.

“It’s not my fault you can’t hold eye contact with me.” There’s a small grin on his lips. “Now, come on. Your hangover medicine is sitting on the table.” He backs up, allowing you to hop off the counter.

You follow him into the kitchen where you see the two unwashed glasses that held wine the night prior, in the sink.

“What a way to start off the morning, huh?” You joke, attempting to make small talk after what happened in the bathroom.

“I’ve seen worse.” He pours some tea into a mug and hands it off to you. “This stuff is way better than that premium crap at the shop.” He pours some for himself in another mug.

“But I don’t like tea. Do you have any coffee?” You take a whiff of the hot liquid in your cup. It smells good, and you decide you can’t knock it ‘til you try it.

“The tea is gonna help your headache, whether you like it or not. And no, I don’t have coffee.”

You take a sip, and scorch your tongue in the process. Your eyes water for a second, but now that you know how hot it is, you can take another sip knowing what to expect.

“It’s actually really good. Thank you, Levi.”

—

Levi took you home a few hours later when you felt better. You said you had things to do at your house, but in reality you just wanted to sleep in your own bed again. You wanted to feel comfortable with knocking things over, knowing they were yours.

Levi checked in every hour, and reminded you that if you needed anything he would get it for you. At some point in the afternoon, you knocked out and didn’t wake up until twelve in the morning. You checked the few messages that Levi left when you told him you were gonna take a nap, and then went right back to sleep.

—

You couldn’t stop thinking about your time with Levi as you made your way through the main entrance of your work building, carrying some folders in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. It’s seven in the morning. You need some form of caffeine pumping in your veins if you’re going to function even remotely.

You step into the elevator, back against the wall as you wait for the doors to close.

“Good morning,” a familiar voice says, breaking the silence you reserved. The doors shut a few seconds after he enters the elevator.

“Oh, good morning, Levi,” sleep treads lightly on your voice. You restrain from taking another sip of coffee on the elevator to avoid him smelling your coffee breath.

“Don’t tell me you just woke up.” The elevator dings as you reach your floor.

“Would that disappoint you?” You ask, a playful smile on your face.

“Very much.” He lets you step off first, following behind you.

“Well, that’s too bad. Not everyone can wake up at three in the morning every day like you.” You chuckle, waving as you head into your office.

He peeks his head into your office just to take the final word from you.

“For the record, it’s two thirty, not three in the morning,” he says in a jokingly matter-of-fact way, before walking to his office next door.

You giggle as you set your stuff down onto your desk. Your joyous energy leaves when you load up the work you have to do on your computer. There are so many reports that need to be filed by the end of the day, and you’re actually scared that you might have to take your break later in order to make a dent in the workload. You sigh, sitting down in your office chair. You realize there’s no point in just sitting there and sulking, so you roll closer to the desk and begin typing and clicking away.

At around twelve you get an email from Erwin, the department manager that says:

Hello _____,

Today I will have to leave work a little earlier than usual, as I am meeting my in-laws for lunch with my wife. They flew a couple thousand miles to meet with me and my wife today and I will not be able to finish the work I have pending for today.

Would you do me the biggest favor and finish whatever I don’t get to by the time I leave? It would mean a lot.

Thank you,

Erwin Smith

You shut your eyes tightly and think about how easy it would be to run out of the building and drive home, but instead of doing so, you reply to Erwin’s email.

Hi Erwin,

Hope all is well with your wife and the in-laws.

No worries, you can leave the remainder of your unfinished work to me and I will get it done. I will have to take a later lunch than usual because I have a lot of work to get done as well, but you can definitely count on me to finish the job.

Best of luck,

_______

You felt like bashing your head on the keyboard, but nonetheless, you continued to work through your weariness.

—

“Hey, by any chance are you taking your lunch anytime soon?” Levi asks, leaning on the doorframe of your office.

“Nope. I have so much work to do, it’s hilarious.” You don’t even take the time to turn and face him.

“You don’t seem to be laughing. Is there anything I can help you with?” He stands behind your chair, looking at all the reports you had to finish by the end of the day. “Hey, aren’t those Erwin’s reports? Why the hell are you doing his work again?” He moves over, standing next to you so he can see the screen more clearly.

“He has this lunch to go to with his wife and her parents. It’s not like I was gonna leave work early today, anyway.” Your typing was flawless, almost robotic. No typos or extra spaces, not a capital letter or punctuation mark out of place. “It’s fine, Levi. Are you going on your break?”

“I was going to, but you’re still working like a maniac. I’ll just wait for you.”

“No, it’s okay. Go take your break. You must be exhausted. I’ll buy you a cup of tea later if you go on your break now.” Your eyes scan the large lettering as you speak like your sentences have been pre-recorded so that you can say them while you work.

“Fine. I’ll take my break in here.” He sits in one of the extra chairs in your room.

“But Levi, I need to focus.”

“I won’t say a word to you. I’m just sitting here.”

You give in and let him stay while you work, and he stays true to his word. Not a word is said during his break, but you can feel him staring at you, and it makes doing your work just a little harder. You make more mistakes in your typing, and you can hear him ‘tch’ every time he hears you tap the backspace key repeatedly.

When his break is up, he puts a hand on your head before he goes back to his office. The endearing gesture made surprise goosebumps rise on your arms.

—

You finished all the work you had to do in record time. Erwin’s work was your top priority so you finished it first, then you finished your work. You didn’t get to take a break, but you did get some overtime in. Hopefully, Erwin is okay with it.

You turn off the computer and grab all your possessions before leaving the office for the day. Levi is waiting for you around the corner.

“All done?” He asks when you shut the door to your office.

“Yeah. I’m tired as fuck.” You chuckle at his wide-eyed expression. “Sorry. I’m really tired is what I meant to say.”

“We’re both adults. You can mean what you say.” He offered to carry your bag as well as your folders, and you let him. “What do you need, right now?” He asks as you walk side by side to the elevator.

“Rest,” you reply instantly.

“Okay, let’s get you home.”

“Let’s?” You question.

“I’ll drive you home, and once you wake up i’ll drive you back here so you can get your car.”

“That’s not necessary. You really don’t have to, Levi,” you insist. You enter the elevator and Levi follows after you.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I really appreciate you. Thank you for your kindness.”

—

He brought you home, and you invited him in because you thought it was the polite thing to do after everything he’s done for you.

“You’re welcome to anything that’s in the cabinets or the fridge, or just take anything you like.”

Levi was in awe at how organized your cabinets were. The truth was that you had organized them the day before, before you went to sleep, because when you laid down to sleep, the guilt of lying to Levi was eating you alive. You told him you had things to do at your house, and yet you were just about ready to knock out on your bed.

“I’m okay, but thank you.” He goes back into the living room with you.

“Come hang out with me in my room?”

He looked like you asked him to steal the Mona Lisa—confused, conflicted, unsure if he would go that far even if you were the one asking.

“Okay,” he finally says a few seconds later.

He follows your lead as you direct yourself towards your room. As soon as you are within reach of your bed, you toss yourself on it, spreading your limbs like a starfish.

“You’re welcome to join me,” your words are muffled by the pillows.

“I don’t think there’s any room there for me,” he mumbles as he searches for a small area to sit, where he won’t interrupt your starfish pose.

“Sorry, let me just…” you reposition yourself. You’re now on your side, curled up. “You can lay there.” You point to space next to you.

Levi lays down on his side, facing you. He doesn’t know if this is overstepping boundaries with you, but it feels nice.

“I’m sorry I don’t have an extra room like you do.”

His eyebrows furrow, displeased with your apology.

“Don’t apologize for something so unimportant.”

“Are you uncomfortable? I can sit on a chair if you want-“

His hand lands on your shoulder, immediately silencing you.

“I’m fine. You don’t have to go anywhere. Let’s just lay here together.”

You blushed furiously at how romantic the words sounded. If you were smarter you wouldn’t have gone for the kiss and your relationship would have kept its romantic and sexual tension, but you couldn’t take it anymore. You, the one who avoided love at all costs, were the first to admit you wanted to love Levi.

His heart raced as if he ran every day of his life, just to meet you here, in this moment. He pulled you onto his lap, your position exactly like the night he invited you over, only this time you were in total control of your actions.

His hand on your hip, his fingers threaded in your hair—it was the proof that let you know he wanted this just as much as you. It may have been wrong to just spring this on him, but if it wasn’t a moment for now, then it would be a moment for later, which sounded like forever in your mind.

You pull away to see the reaction behind all of this. His heart is uncontrollable. He can’t calm it down, and he can barely hear his own thoughts with the way his heart beats in his ears.

“That’s how I feel. How do you feel?” You ask, staring into the storm residing in his grey eyes.

He leans forward to reach your lips, luring you back to him. His hands now hold your waist, occasionally squeezing to ground him when his soul threatens to vanish from being there with you. His lips chase yours endlessly, and you hate remembering that you need to breathe in order to stay alive, because you love the intimacy of kissing. It gives you uncontrollable butterflies that you refuse to tame because you continue to do the thing that sets them free.

This time he releases you, taking in the dazed expression on your face.

“That’s how I feel.”

You both stare at each other like a new world has been introduced, and you’re waiting for each other’s approval to go in together.

“I want you, Levi. Make me yours.” It’s your sugarcoated, romanticized way of saying ‘claim me because I don’t want anyone else to do it’.

“You want me to…” his ears go red. He’s scared to assume you want him sexually, so he waits for you to specify.

“Make love to me?” You say in the form of a question. You cringe internally, but you think it matches the moment better than saying ‘fuck me’.

“M-Make love to you?” He repeats, flustered by the request.

“Please,” you say with false confidence. You can tell he’s nervous, and you know you’re nervous, so you have to show him as much fake confidence as you can muster if you want to progress with him.

“Let’s take it slow. Nobody is leading, and we’re gonna roll with however things go.” You put your hand on his shoulder, an attempt to calm him. “Does that sound okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees.

“O-Okay?” Your veil of confidence collapses after your last statement, and you go back to being putty in Levi’s hold when he pulls you down onto the bed with him. There’s no way he’ll abide to your ‘nobody is leading’ statement. He’s a natural leader, and regardless of how nervous he is, he will take total responsibility for the way he makes you feel.

You still jump a little when his hands meet the warm skin of your cheeks and stay there, but nonetheless, you like it. The touch feels familiar even if he’s never touched you like this before.

He takes his hands off your face and begins unbuttoning his shirt. Little by little, you begin to see pale patches of skin from his chest and stomach. You nearly panic when the whole shirt comes off, and reveals toned parts of his torso. You strongly believe he was sculpted by some artistically driven gods.

You’re wonderstruck, and even if he doesn’t know it, he’s ruined men for you in a way only you can understand.

“I’m not that striking,” he says, a blush rising to his cheeks. You can now see that the color doesn’t start on his cheeks, but on his chest.

“I don’t even know what to say.” You’re smitten, and it was over for you the second his lips merged with yours. You played yourself by starting this, but there’s no way in hell you’ll go back to depriving yourself of him.

“Then don’t say anything.” He goes down to meet your lips again, his body feeling hot when you reach up to touch him. Physical affection is rare for Levi, and nobody has touched him like this in a long time, so deep down he’s really happy you’re the one he’s sharing a bed with. You don’t feel obligated to shed layers of clothing for him. He’s content with just having you, and though he would never admit it, knowing you had no words to describe the sight of him without a shirt was a major boost to his self confidence.

You reach down to untuck your shirt from your pants and begin unbuttoning it. Levi only noticed this because your hands weren’t running all over his body anymore, and he wanted you to keep touching him.

He almost chokes on his spit once your shirt is open, the loose halves laying next to each corresponding side of you. You picked the perfect day to match your lingerie. You donned a lacy black bra with panties that Levi had yet to see.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, scanning every inch of you that is now revealed.

“You think so?” Your cheeks glow like you’re surrounded by Christmas lights.

“I do,” the last words he says before he snatches your lips up again. Strands of his hair brush your face, tickling your nose and cheeks. You don’t think there should be a time limit for how long a make out session goes on for. It gives you an otherworldly feeling when Levi’s lips lock with yours. To say it’s electrifying would be a dulled down version of what you really feel.

The pace picks up suddenly, and your heart drops to your stomach. His hands hold your waist firmly, and your lips struggle to keep up with his. You don’t think you’re imagining the panting sounds coming from him as he kisses you with a fervor that can’t be pacified.

“Mmm…fuck,” he almost growls. “How are you able to make me feel this way?” He looks drunk on your affection.

You had an effect on him. The sweet, composed, professional Levi you knew as your best friend, was now bound to you.

He presses his nose to the column of your throat where he leaves so many kisses. His mouth ghosts over your chest, an occasional brush of his lips to your skin as he lowers down to your stomach. It’s such an intimate gesture filled with sincerity that does nothing but intensify the thrashing in your chest.

His hands wander, bringing goosebumps wherever they move. You see the way he looks at you—like he would devour you if this weren’t the first time he was bedding you. His eyes are so cold you think your gaze is frozen to his.

“Should I keep going?” His indirect way of asking for your consent again, even if you were the one who asked for this. You take the hint when you feel him tugging lightly at your pants. You respond by unbuttoning your trousers, shimmying them down your hips. He helps you get them completely off when they reach your thighs.

The black on black bra and panties combination… Something flipped in his head because for a few seconds his eyes just flicked up and down between the two areas. To capture this untainted sight of you for a few more seconds was all he wanted, because he knew that you wouldn’t look like this again for the rest of the night.

His hands roam around your body—running over your waist, then trailing down to your hips, which leads to them slithering down your thighs.

“Is that…” he points at the gusset of your panties, a darker spot contrasting the rest of the garment. It’s only noticeable because he’s so close. “Is that what I think it is?”

“U-Um…” you divert your attention from him. Your cheeks feel hot again.

“You’re so excited, yet we haven’t even done that much.” His hands splay on your thighs, spreading your legs as wide as you can comfortably have them. “Now I know what kissing does to you,” he says as he proceeds to kiss your inner thighs.

You inhale sharply, your stomach quivering a little.

“May I?” His hand nears your clothed cunt, centimeters away from the wet spot.

“Okay,” you simply say. Any more words and you’ll stutter up a storm.

Your heart might leap out of your chest with that gaze of his. His pupils are enormous, the lust almost blocking all the color in his eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind if I take it slow. I want to make you come once through your panties, and another time without them.”

Come? Panties? Another time without panties? It’s so strange hearing these words from someone who’s been just a friend for years. It’s strange hearing the words from Levi in general.

“O-Okay,” you stutter this time.

“Good.” His fingers finally make contact with the fabric of your panties, a circular motion stimulating your cunt. He can feel the wetness of your slick on his fingertips, the amount increasing with each pressurized rub.

Your arm comes up to cover your eyes, embarrassment flooding through you as Levi spectates you.

“Let me see your pretty face, please.” His voice is so commanding, you don’t think you can deny him of the things he asks of you.

Your forearm shakily raises off of your face, dropping down onto the mattress. He can now see the effectiveness of his fingers, on your expression. Your mouth is slightly open, your eyes begging for more from him. The whole thing makes the hardness in his pants twitch.

“Is this what you wanted?” He teases, knowing your words won’t beat the moans leaving your mouth.

“Mhm,” you whimper. “Please…please.”

“Didn’t think I would have you begging so fast.” He leans forward a little to whisper the second part in your ear. “That’s good, sweetheart. Keep doing it.”

You nearly lost it when he kissed the area below your ear right after.

“Levi… Levi, more please.” You can’t stand that look on his face as he continues to torture you. His teeth occasionally sink into his bottom lip. There’s so much lust behind the expression, that you’re actually nervous for what will happen to you after he makes you come the first time.

Your moans become more frequent, and you can feel that familiar heat in your core. You don’t remember ever touching yourself in a manner that made you feel this way, and he isn’t even touching your bare cunt.

“Oh, already?” He goes down your body, stopping at the elastic band of your panties and scattering kisses on the skin above it.

“Fucking—oh god—Levi,” you say, breathlessly. Your hands go to the back of his head and you tug his hair with unmeasured strength. He can handle the discomfort for as long as you provide it, and he won’t complain about something that makes his cock twitch. Your thighs shut around his hand, and you grind your cunt against it. It’s humiliating when he raises his gaze to watch you as you take control of your pleasure. At this point, you’re doing most of the movement, rolling your hips against the cupped form of his fingers.

“There you go,” he murmurs. He loves watching the way your chest heaves and hearing the cries of his name. The racing of your heartbeat is indomitable, you swear Levi can hear it over your breathing.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, you look down at Levi who’s mesmerized by the dazed look you give him.

“That was taking it slow?”

“Mhm. I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” His hand brushes your thigh in a comforting manner. It triggers goosebumps in the area which brings a sly grin to his face.

“Excuse me? Your pants have a little something on them. Now let’s talk sensitivity.” You raise your arms, stretching your taut muscles, a strained groan leaving you as your muscles were freed of their tension.

You didn’t catch the way his eyes sparkled when you bit back, but in that moment, he knew you could handle his snarky remarks at all times and put him in his place when necessary. That was definitely a turn on.

“Please tell me you’re ready to go again.”

You laugh through your nose.

“You want me?” You tease. A gear rotated in your head, and you suddenly remembered something from the night he cooked for you.

“Yes. So badly,” he says.

There’s a wicked grin on your face. You sit up, leveling yourself on the bed with him.

“How about you show me that patience of yours I was promised.”

His head visibly tilted in confusion. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen him do.

“Let’s switch positions. Lay here where I am, and i’ll take your spot.”

“Okay,” he says, seemingly understanding so far what you said. He crawls over to where you sat and lays down, and you sit in the spot he previously sat in.

“Care to explain what’s about to happen?” His head rests on his folded arms.

The act is so sudden, so quick that his arms fly out from underneath his head to hold onto your hips. You straddle his hips, your legs on either side.

“Uh… u-um… what are you doing?” He swallowed thickly, trying not to let the brush of your cunt against his crotch unravel him.

“I think you deserve be taken care of, too, Levi.” You unclip your bra, sliding the straps off your arms before throwing it to a corner in your room. Your breasts are definitely a sight for him, a sight he isn’t sure he can look at without your permission, so he holds eye contact with you.

You lean forward, covering his chest with kisses. You can see the way the area turns red upon contact with your lips, like your touch sets him on fire. Your lips maneuver around his upper body, trailing up from his chest to his neck and the curvature of his jawline. He almost freezes when he feels your breasts against his chest. You cup his cheeks, looking into his enamored eyes before kissing his lips.

“Do you think you can handle what i’m about to do?” You press your forehead to his, looking into those fascinating eyes of his.

“I think so.” His hands ride up and down your sides, nearly touching the sides of your breasts.

“Good boy.”

His brain felt fuzzy when you said the words. It’s something he’s never experienced before when hearing them. You seemed to have reinvented the meaning behind the words when you used them in this scenario.

There you went again, going down his body, kissing everywhere you could. You discovered areas where he was sensitive, such as his ribs and the area beneath his navel. He gasped or shuddered every time you licked or sucked the skin in those areas.

“May I?” You ask, hooking a finger around one of his belt loops.

“Do whatever you want to me.” His hands go down to assist you in unbuttoning his pants, lifting his hips just enough to lower them until you could pull them off. He sported some dark blue boxer briefs, his erect cock forming a very noticeable tent. You now saw the large spot of pre-cum that had ruined his pants, on the blue garment.

Your hand wraps around the silhouette of his cock, the wet fabric wrinkling as your hand moves up and down. You see the vein in his neck pop out and the way his stomach tenses. You don’t need vocal proof of the way he feels because you can see it, but he still gives it to you anyway, and it just brings that much more excitement to you.

His breath is shaky as you rub his tip with your thumb, the fabric of his undergarment absorbing every drop of his pre-cum.

“You’re really pretty, Levi. I know that probably doesn’t say much for you, but i’m looking at you right now, and…” you sigh, completely astonished by him. To see someone like Levi with his walls completely torn down was beautiful. He’s tough. Not with you, obviously, but things don’t get to him so easily. To think that you were able to get him in a vulnerable position like this… He must really like you.

“You know, I really like you,” your hand speeds up a little. “I’m gonna be honest with you…I lived an enormous lie for what felt like an eternity. I tried to see you as a friend for so long. So long. But, sir, you made it impossible, because you never treated me like a friend.”

He shudders, his cock twitching beneath your grasp. You lean down to kiss his clothed tip. His mouth gapes slightly, his eyebrows creasing the slightest bit when it slowly disappears into your mouth.

“F-Fuck. You’re kidding,” he mutters under his breath. Your eyes look wild. It seems like you’ll have to hold onto his soul for a few minutes, because he’s floating.

The shape of his tip is completely outlined now, your saliva darkening the fabric of his briefs. Even the slightest brush of your fingers against his length has him shaking.

“Give it to me, baby. You’ve got it,” you say, encouraging him to let loose. Your hand speeds up a little more, and before you know it, Levi lets out a whimper and some grunts as he leaves yet another damp spot on his briefs.

“F-Fuck—a-ah—oh my…” he sits up halfway before you push him back down. His eyes shut tightly and you can see the protruding shape of his ribs with every breath of his as you continue to jerk him into overstimulation.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you murmur, your hand stopping when you see him writhing.

You giggle, watching as he catches his breath.

“Was that okay? I know it would have been better if I had actually touched…it. I just wanted to do something similar to what you did.”

“Don’t worry,” he sighs heavily. “It was perfect.”

You blush, watching as he fulfills his task of fully sitting up. You can clearly see the layer of sweat on his skin now. It gives him an ethereal-like glow.

“Are we gonna actually, you know… today?” You ask when he doesn’t say anything. He just looked into your eyes for a few seconds.

“I’ll do anything you want me to do. Do you want to?”

It feels wrong to want more, but you do want more of him. You want to feel him close to you. Right up against you, meshing into your skin, or just pressed against you as close as possible.

“I want you so fucking badly,” you chuckle. It’s almost pathetic how much you want him.

He tucks a damp strand of hair behind your ear, softening the intensity of your gaze on him.

“You can have me, just sit on my lap.” His eyes look down at your breasts, watching the way they move when you breathe. You smile, holding in a laugh when he looks back at you with a flustered expression. “You can hold them if you want,” you position yourself between his legs, your back to his chest. “None of this…” you grab ahold of his hands and drag them down your body. “…is off limits. Touch as you please.”

He hums, content with having you so near. You release his hands, allowing them to roam freely. The first thing he does is roll the elastic band of your panties down. You lift yourself a little, allowing him to roll the garment below your thighs. You kick them off your legs, and wait for Levi to finish getting his briefs off. You turn around, immediately looking down. A quiet gasp escapes you before you quickly face straight ahead again. He’s big.

“Say the word, and we can get started,” He mumbles into your shoulder. One of his hands reaches for your breast, the other slides down to your cunt. He toys with your clit, rubbing it just the slightest bit with his middle finger. He lures a breathy moan out of you, your decision being made quickly after.

“O-Okay, okay,” you breathe.

“Ready now?” His voice goes deeper, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Mhm,” you hum, rising up just the slightest to settle onto his lap.

“Easy,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist. “W-Wait. Not so fast,” he groans, as his tip nudges through your folds, the cockhead sliding into your messy hole while you sink down as slowly as you can.

Your moans are synchronized once he’s in all the way. You can feel his warmth inside you, twitching, even with your idleness. He lays his forehead on your upper back, soft wisps of his hair tickling your skin. Soft, warm breaths make their way onto the tippy top of your spine.

“F-Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You lean back against him, your head on his shoulder. Your eyes shut tightly, your mouth gaped open once he starts moving beneath you.

“W-We’re friends, right?” You have an obvious amount of difficulty keeping your voice steady. Gasps, and random pauses litter your sentences every time Levi pushes in and out of you. His hands were cupped around your breasts, your nipples wedged between his index and middle fingers. Your heart dropped every time you remembered that he bought you coffee as a friend two days ago, and now he’s taking charge of you in your own bed.

“Sure. What’s on y-your—hah—your m-mind?” His lips attach to your shoulder, sucking an intense mark onto the clear patch of skin, like he’s trying to draw blood. You wince, your back arching a little.

“This is the only way you’ll picture me after today, isn’t it?” Your eyes roll as his lips brush over your shoulders and nape for areas to leave more marks on. You hear the quick breaths that leave his nose and the sound of his lips slipping against your bruised skin. It’s a good way of not answering the question that’s eating away at you.

“Would that be okay with you?” He finally whispers into your ear, a slight rasp in his voice.

“Oh, fucking hell, Levi,” your hands find his thighs, your nails sinking into the pale skin, leaving red lines as you draw your fingers in close like you’re fisting sheets. “I—mm…You— Fuck!” You cry out impatiently, unable to form a proper thought, completely flustered due to how fucking attractive that simple gesture was.

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest. It’s like he’s taunting you.

“I’ve pictured you in so many different ways. This is definitely one of them, but not the only one,” he clarifies. A sweet kiss is pressed into the side of your neck. “You don’t have to worry about that ever. Understand?”

“Mhm…” you hum, lost in the way his cock prods so deeply inside you.

“Use your words, sweetheart. I don’t know what that response means,” he teases. One of his hands releases your breast, dropping down to play with your clit. You nearly fold in pleasure, leaning forward the smallest amount before Levi’s arm drapes over your chest, pinning your back to his chest. “I need you here with me. Now give me your words,” his finger rubs the tiny bud lightly, just enough to make you writhe in his lap from the pleasure.

“I—fuck—I understand, Levi. I understand,” you cry out, your eyes tearing up due to the way he holds you so close the edge. It’s not enough pressure, and he knows it, but he likes the tone in your voice, and he wants to hear it for just a tad bit longer.

“Do you now?” He hums, followed by a breathy ‘ah’.

“I do,” tears nearly flow out of your eyes. “Please, Levi. Need more of you,” you plead.

His pace doesn’t speed up, but his thrusts are stronger now. Your pussy flutters around him, the intensity of your arousal almost completely unbearable. His finger brushes your clit in a tedious manner. It has you trembling on top of him.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. The clenching of your pussy has his cock in such a tight hold—so snug inside your velvety walls. You breathe heavily, unable to stay still on his lap anymore. You’re now chasing his thrusts, meeting them halfway to strengthen the pleasure derived from Levi.

“Fuck! Please, please, please! Please, Levi!” You gasp, heaving every time you inhale. The knot inside you is on the brink of snapping in one of the most concentrated ways you’ve ever felt. Levi was close, too. His cock pulsated with every one of his thrusts, and every time your pussy clenched, it just inched him closer to his end.

He succumbed to your cries of his name, your trembling form now shaking in rhythm with his powerful thrusts.

Choked sounds, breathy mutterings of each others names, whimpers, and cries of passion filled the room.

“Levi! Oh god, oh fuck!” The final words leave you before an overwhelming tidal wave of pleasure consumes your whole self. You’ve never felt pleasure from suffocation, but Levi was almost inhaling you from how close he was, and you didn’t want him to back off. His arms held your writhing, trembling frame tightly against him, while he whispered things into your ear.

His hips continued to roll just a little slower, just enough to bring him right to the edge. Drool coated your lips, threatening to slide down your chin. You could feel almost every part of him on you—his arms, his legs, his chest, his abs, his lips. Being trapped by him was endearing.

“Fuck… keep doing that. D-Do that again, please,” he moans, breathing against the shell of your ear. You clenched around him again, and audibly heard him go weak. His shuddered breaths and strangled groans were the sexiest things you had ever heard. He painted your walls white, the feeling so immense that he clawed at your chest, leaving red streaks on the clean area of your chest. He whimpered out so many sorry’s, not stopping the roll of his hips until the overstimulation was too much.

You stayed in that position for a while once he came down from his high. He held you tightly, his head laying on your back. His warm cheek rested on your spine as he looked at the closed door of your bedroom. The long silence was broken by the sound of you sighing.

“We’re friends, right?” You ask the same question from earlier. Maybe his answer will be different now that he’s not as distracted.

He did take a little longer to answer than before. “We’re not like them,” he finally mumbles against your skin.

“Like who?” You question.

“Like those stupid people that do the whole friends with benefits bit. Tell me we aren’t them.” His postures straightens, and he pulls you close again, not holding you too tight, just allowing you to lay on his chest.

“We’re not them. This was… a one time thing. Right?”

“I don’t like that.” He moves the hair away from your face and plants a kiss on your forehead.

Your eyes flutter shut, and a lazy grin appears on your lips.

“Let’s talk about this some other time. For now, we’re friends.” You break free of his hold and get off of him. You search for your clothes scattered across your room.

“I should probably get going. I really need to shower.” He picks his clothes off of the edge of the bed, putting everything back on.

“If only I had clothes you could wear. I would’ve loved to have you over for the night,” you say, feeling guilty once again for not being as hospitable as Levi. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for dumb things like clothes, or the amount of rooms in your house.” He sits on the edge of the bed, slipping back into his trousers. “There’s always next time.”

‘This is a one time thing.’ Yeah, right.

“Well…” he exhales, running a hand through his damp, disheveled hair. “I’m gonna go. Thanks for…”

You suck in your lips, suppressing laughter at his inability to say what you both just did.

“Thanks for having me,” he finally manages to utter.

You simply nod in acknowledgment, a smile gracing your features.

“Get home safe, Levi.”

“I’ll call you.”

And call you he did. The phone call could’ve been shorter. A simple ‘I’m home. I’ll see you at work,’ would have sufficed, but it’s like he needed to have some sort of connection to you. He spent a good portion of the phone call asking about how you were feeling physically. He didn’t go any deeper than that, not wanting to put any pressure on whatever you and him were.

He did something spontaneous and didn’t know how to react as soon as it happened, so he hung up immediately. He said ‘Goodnight. Love you,’ the last two words so quiet that you didn’t even hear them through the thin layer of static on the line. And that’s why you were so confused when the dial tone sounded in your ear. You thought the call ended due to bad reception, and expected him to call back, but he didn’t.

—

The next day was no different from any other day. Levi greeted you on the elevator, and acted as he usually did. There was nothing strange in your relationship according to the way he acted, or the way he talked to you. It was like the day before never happened.

“See you at lunchtime?” He says, stopping at the entrance to your office.

“Sure,” you say, unpacking your things. “I’ll have time for you today.”

“Good. See you then.” He turns and leaves your sight, heading into his own office.

You power through your work, making as much time as you can for Levi. He never left your mind as you read all those emails mindlessly. You were a zombie, the feeling of his hands roaming your body was engraved into your memory. It made you zone out a lot, the memory rolling in your mind so vividly because it was literally yesterday.

Your heart begins to race, at the sound of him calling your name. So desperate and needy, so unlike the Levi you knew before.

“Hello? Are you there?” Levi says, tapping your shoulder. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Huh? Oh, Levi. What are you doing here?” You check the time on the corner of your computer screen. “Shit, it’s already two thirty.”

“Right. Lunchtime,” he says, focused on your blank expression.

“Okay, yeah. What do you want to do?”

Not much besides kiss you, hold you, and more.

“Are you hungry?” He sits in the chair behind you, folding his hands on the table.

“Not really. Are you?” You rotate your chair to face him. Those eyes are intimidating every time you look at them, now. His gaze feels more intimate.

“Not at all.”

“Any other suggestions?”

He swallows every ounce of fear he feels, and prepares himself mentally for how this conversation could end. He could lose you or he could gain more than just your friendship. He can’t gauge which direction he’s leaning towards because you’re both actively ignoring the things that occurred. The things that friends don’t do.

“Let’s talk.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach, your nerves on edge. You wanted this conversation to happen, and now that it’s happening, you want nothing more than to be swallowed by a black hole.

“Okay,” you respond, your hands awkwardly splaying on your thighs.

“Did we overstep any boundaries yesterday?”

You look to your left, the door wide open for your coworkers to see and hear your private conversation. You give Levi one more chance. Maybe he won’t go into detail.

“I didn’t think we would actually act on the sexual tension—”

“Okay, hold on.” You stand up and head towards the door, pushing it shut, and shutting the blinds. “We don’t need any more workplace drama. This is between just you and me,” you say, sighing as you sit down again.

“We’re friends is what you’ve been telling me, and i’m completely fine with that.” The truth hides behind those flimsy words. He would rather destroy his favorite teacup and throw away his entire cabinet of expensive tea than fully accept that you’ll never be more than a friend. “But how will we prevent this from happening again?”

“Easy,” you reply. “It won’t happen again. We hang out at work, and only hang out outside of work when there are others around.”

“That’s an immature way to fix our situation.” He wants all the time with you. No division with others. “We can control ourselves. We don’t need people around to prove that. That’s just…absurd.”

“It’s the best solution. We won’t be tempted to do anything we shouldn’t do. There won’t be any tension. It’ll all work out fine.” You look down at his hands, his knuckles are nearly white.

He chuckles. “God, there is so much tension between us. You can cut it with a fucking knife.”

“I don’t feel it,” you say, averting your gaze immediately.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He grabs onto the seat of your chair, rolling you closer to him. He decides you’re close enough when your knees are brushing his, a nudge with enough force would send his knee between your thighs and vice-versa.

“What are you doing, Levi?” You question, a perplexed look on your face.

“I’m only asking you to do one thing and it’s really simple.”

He leans in, little by little, not close enough to kiss you, but enough to make your heart race when he doesn’t stop until you can see his slate colored eyes up close.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

You do as told, and look straight into his eyes. The intensity makes your head spin. You feel so vulnerable and submissive. You look away for a second, and he clicks his tongue.

“Don’t look away from me,” he instructs. His eyes don’t waver at all. They keep their intensity, and look at you dead on. You’re pretty sure he can hear your heartbeat.

After a minute of silence and staring into his eyes, you made a decision. You didn’t think at all about what you were fighting for and went with what your heart longed for. You cupped his cheeks and crashed your lips onto his. They were as amazing as you remembered, even so, imperfect. It felt right, holding him like that. Your breathing was synchronized, the heavy pants coming from both of you bringing some color to your face.

You pull away looking into his eyes again. There was a major difference. His pupils were huge, and there was a tenderness to his expression. He’s so weak for you.

“Fuck,” he curses. He swipes his bottom lip a few times with his index finger.

“What was the point of that?” Your voice is filled with disappointment.

“It was a test. You failed horrendously.”

“You did that on purpose, Levi. You’re being unfair.” Your eyebrows crease with frustration. “You knew you would get me like that.”

“I thought you were more self-disciplined,” he teases.

“You kissed me back. You should have had the willpower to push me away,” your arms cross in annoyance.

“I didn’t want to.”

You sigh, trying so hard to be mad, but in all your faux anger, you crack a smile that eventually evolves into a giggle.

“We’re so bad at this.” You think quickly, trying to figure out what to say after. “I think the only way to fix something like this is for us to stay apart for a while,” is the only thing that came to mind. You really didn’t think before you spoke, and you didn’t mean it.

His entire demeanor changed. This was the worst idea you had ever come up with, and all he could do was hope you would take it back.

“What do you mean?” He asks, secretly buying time for you to change your mind.

“We can’t be friends right now. It’s not working out like it should.”

“No. We don’t need that. All that would do is make an awkward gap in our friendship. We’re fine, we can handle this like adults.”

You stand up in your chair. “Adults who are old enough to passionately fuck, and kiss, and look at each other with longing stares. Adults can handle things recklessly, too, you know.”

“Where are you going?” He watches you grab your coat, in search of your car keys. You find them, the jingling making them easier to locate when you patted your coat pocket.

“Out,” you respond, pushing your chair under your desk.

“Okay. I’ll be in my office.” He pushes his chair in, following you out the door. You can feel the shift in his mood based on the way he avoids looking at you.

You shut your eyes tightly for a second, silently cursing yourself for having a heart. You pull on the back of his collar, bringing him to a halt. He turns around to face you.

“Fucking hell, let’s go on a date, Levi.”

“What are you saying?” He says, looking around the office to see if anyone heard your announcement. “You’re giving me whiplash with your indecisiveness.”

“It’s now or never.” The ultimatum is weightless— it means nothing because you will forever hold a spot in your heart for Levi.

“Okay.” It was the simplest way to accept your proposal. If you had more time, he would’ve stuttered for you, but you were both on your lunch break.

You both walk to the elevator, hands next to each other, trying not to link. It was like a staticky zap every time you accidentally brushed fingers. Your hands quickly moved away from each other every time it happened. Once the doors shut, Levi pinned you to the back wall of the elevator, and kissed you with so much ardor that you could feel the heat radiating off of his cheeks. You went through that first date with him, nervous throughout the entire thing, but nothing made electricity course through you like that thirty second elevator ride.

411 notes · View notes