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shenanigans-and-imagines · 7 months

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I Want It All: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Astarion, Allusion to Astarion's Past (Sexual Assult/Dissociation)

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: Holy shit! It's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and reblogged and just...everything. I cannot tell you how much it means to be to know this story has resonated with so many people. I don't have any plans to continue this as a larger story (I still haven't played the game); however, if anyone would like to send requests for small one-shots or headcanons involving Astarion and this Asexual!Tav, feel free to send me an ask.

Also, sorry if I didn't tag you. There were a lot of request, so I stuck to those who asked on the previous chapter.

And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!!

Word Count: 5.2K

You didn’t sleep that night, but what else did you expect?

For hours you simply lay in the dark, staring at the window. The patter of rain was the only source of sound besides your own breathing. Even that small comfort didn’t last as the storm passed leaving behind cloud covered silence.

No tears came to you. What had you to grieve over? Everything you felt had been a product of your imagination. You knew that.

Still, it ached. There was a throbbing in your throat you couldn’t swallow down and a constant pressure behind your eyes. You almost wished you would cry, just to get it out of your system. If you could have a nice little breakdown, there was a chance you could get over this. It would be the slap in the face you needed to accept reality. Maybe then you’d stop doing this to yourself.

All the same, it stayed there, pressing heavy on your chest until the sun teased the edges of the clouds beaconing morning.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. You couldn’t lie and wallow the rest of the day. You had things to do, places to be, worms to destroy. The sooner you had something else to occupy your thoughts the better.

With an effort you pulled yourself out of bed and slowly made your way to the dining room.

You were a bit surprised to see everybody already up. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale were already seated with plates of half eaten food in front of them. Two seats were still empty, settings ready and untouched. A quick look around confirmed the rest, Astarion had yet to make an appearance.

“Morning everyone,” you said, trying your best to be cheerful as you sat yourself between Gale and Wyll.

You could feel all their eyes on you, no doubt noticing the dark circles under yours.

“Morning,” Gale greeted. “I trust you slept well.”

He let out a small yelp of pain.

You looked up to catch him glaring at Shadowheart as she shot him a disapproving look.

You frowned. Did she just kick him?

“I mean, ah, did you lie comfortably?” he amended.

“Seriously?” Karlach questioned.

You swore you could feel the heat of Gale’s blush, as he grumbled into his toast. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” you asked.

“We just hoped you spent the rest of the night…pleasantly,” Wyll tried, and ultimately failed.

Your stomach flipped, as harsh, dreadful realization washed over you. Yes, of course they would.

“You don’t look well,” Lae’zel noted. “After all his boasting, I had thought Astarion would leave his partners more satisfied.”

You didn’t say anything, deciding to take a bite of egg as an excuse. Now would be a great time for the ground to open and swallow you into the hells. Gods knew it would be an improvement.

“She’s right,” Shadowheart said, sounding a little annoyed to admit it. “You do look tired and not the good kind. Did something happen?”

“Did he hurt you,” Wyll said, his brow furrowing in sudden concern.

“What?! No!” you said quickly. “Nothing happened.”

“How’d you mean nothing happened?” Karlach put in. “We all saw what we saw. How could anyone turn down all of that?”

Fresh embarrassment washed over you, making you wish you could erase the last twenty-four hours and crawl into the nearest, deepest hole. You had spent the whole night worried about what Astarion would make of your vision, you had all but forgotten you had shared that part of yourself with all of your companions. Of course they would have their own interpretations.

“It wasn’t like that.”

A quick look around the table gave away the doubtful thoughts of all.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm. They weren’t going to believe you if you were emotional about this.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. As I said, nothing happened. We talked, and it became clear that we just want different things. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Now are we done or are you all going to keep chattering on like a bunch of fishwives?”

The silence at the table was palpable as everyone exchanged looks.

Alright, maybe being calm wasn't a realistic expectation, but you hadn’t lied. Sure, there were some details you neglected to share, but that really was the long and the short of it. He hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had you. It just didn’t work out.

The plain truth of it settled in your heart carving out a hollow space for it to lay in.

Gale was the first to act, clearing his throat. “Fair enough, the matter is closed. Please, accept our apology. With such an intimate group as ours, it’s sometimes easy to forget that one’s personal matters can be well and truly personal.”

He looked at the rest of the group, each nodding in agreement to various degrees of reluctancy.

“Just for the record though, if you need someone to knock some sense into that pretty boy’s head, you just need to ask,” Karlach offered.

Despite yourself, you had to smile. “I’ll think about it.”

You then turned to Gale, who met you with kind eyes and a comforting smile. You let yourself be warmed by it, even if you still felt a little guilty for snapping. He really did understand. It was easy for heartbreak to recognize heartbreak.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

To your surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to reach for words, but rather your hand as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Anytime.”

“Good morning everyone. Gossiping without me?”

You whipped your head around to find Astarion standing near the head of the table, a sardonic smile on his lips and a hard glare in his eyes. No doubt he had heard everything.

Everybody shifted in their seats, glancing between you and Astarion. You averted your gaze, focusing hard on the table in front of you.

Gale’s hand still rested over yours. Whatever comfort it had given you, faded as something akin to panic flooded your veins. In the next second, you rose from your chair, scraping it hard against the floor in your hurry.

“I’ve still got some packing to do,” you said. “Be back down in a few.”

Coward’s way out? Yes, but after the night you had, you figured you were entitled to it.

Keeping your head down, you slipped past Astarion, feeling him watch you as you made your way back up the stairs.

If you had lingered a moment, you might have caught the flash of hurt in his eyes. You might have noticed how his clothes were more rumpled than usual. You might even have seen his hand twitch with the instinct to reach for yours. But you didn’t see, and anything that might have happened disappeared in a brush of air.

-----------------------

The next several days carried on in much the same way. Not as torturous as that first morning, but still a drudge of avoidance and awkward silences.

In your defense, Astarion seemed just as keen to keep his distance. Where he used to be your preverbal shadow, filling the hours of travel with idle teasing and conversation, now he kept to the back, his mouth decidedly shut.

The others caught on and seemed determined to make up the difference. Karlach, Shadowheart and Wyll especially made a point to walk alongside you, telling stories and jokes in an attempt to make you smile.

You did your best. They meant well, but in some ways they only served to emphasize the absence of another.

Gale, on the other hand, had the foresight to try a different approach. He made it clear he didn’t expect you to talk, but always made sure you had the best spot by the fire and a little extra of whatever he made for the camp. You had to wonder if Tara had provided a similar comfort to him after Mystra. It was obvious he had the practice.

Even Lae’zel offered to help you train it off, something about how your, “objectively weak body had left the rest of you vulnerable to attack”. A part of you felt the insult, but the gesture was appreciated.

Honestly, all of this care was starting to make you feel guilty. None of them were giving Astarion the same courtesy. He wasn’t being shunted exactly, but the message was loud and clear; they were on your side.

This was met by him taking a step back from the late night conversations. His interactions with the others were kept short and lacked his usual humorous flare. He took his shifts on watch alone and he spent even more time either roaming the forest or in his tent.

The only person he consistently spoke to was Gale, which should have raised some alarm bells on their own, but you never caught what they were discussing. All you knew was Astarion never appeared especially pleased while Gale gave a look of someone begging the gods for patience.

All of this was your fault. You just wanted things to go back to normal. Even if you couldn’t be with Astarion the way you imagined, you still valued his friendship. If this kept up, there was a chance he might decide to leave all together. An olive branch was needed, something to signal you didn’t hold a grudge or expect anything more.

The answer came to you one early evening as you took note of his haggard looks and less than graceful steps out of camp. He hadn’t fed on you in a week and there was only so much deer and boar could do.

You considered simply offering up your neck, but that felt too forward. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready to have him that close. The only other solution you could think of was to bleed yourself somehow.

This proved more difficult than you first imagined. Astarion seemed to have an instinct for where to bite, balancing enough blood for himself without causing any permanent damage. You couldn’t boast the same. It took more than one cut to fill an empty goblet with what you hoped to be the right amount of blood. You’d ask Shadowheart to heal you properly later. Hopefully she’d accept a poorly executed knife trick as an excuse.

You wrapped your wrist as best you could and, watching to make sure the others weren’t looking, slipped into Astarion’s tent.

You were immediately hit with the scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy. A sense of calm washed over you at the familiar combination, settling comfortably in your lungs as you took in the space.

A single candle remained lit, allowing just enough light for you to appreciate the rich purple and red fabrics lining the walls as well as the sheer number of pillows littering the floor. How he managed to pack so many was a mystery you doubt you would ever solve. The whole set up was down right ornate, but considering this was Astarion you were talking about, you shouldn’t have been surprised.

It was only then you realized you’d never been inside before. He’d invited you more than once, but you’d always turned him down preferring to keep your feeding session in the open air. You had known, even then, any closer would give the wrong impression; all for naught it seemed.

You pushed the thought aside, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be some place you could put the goblet where he wouldn’t knock it over. Why did he have to keep a side table outside the tent?

A shuffle came from just outside. Focusing your ears, you caught the tread of boots on grass transition to the nearly silent carpet just outside the tent flap. You turned using those handful of extra seconds to school your features into something passively innocent as Astarion ducked inside.

His whole body froze, his arm holding the fabric above his head as his eyes went wide. For a long moment, neither of you said anything.

You took advantage of his momentary shock to examine his appearance more closely. He looked…well, tired and more than a little confused. No blood marked his shirt or his lips. His pants appeared to have taken a tear or two from a bramble bush. Even his hair looked just a bit disheveled in a way so unlike himself.

“No luck hunting?” you said, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.

He stared, as if your words were coming from somewhere far away and required extra time to reach his ears.

“I’ve had better,” he finally said.

You nodded in understanding, shifting awkwardly as your eyes went to the goblet in your hands.

“Here,” you offered. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”

He gave a tight smile. “I’d say no offense taken, but this is me we’re talking about.” All the same, he took the cup, sniffing it cautiously. He blinked hard, his brows furrowing as he stuck his nose further into the cup and took a deep whiff.

“Is this yours?” he asked.

You shrugged, holding up your bandaged wrist. “Whose else would it be?”

His mouth parted slightly as if to say something before closing it again.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his tone oddly serious.

“I know,” you assured. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead released a breath of a laugh, allowing whatever tension he had formed in those last few seconds to fall from his shoulders.

“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it seems I can’t help it with you.”

Before you could ask him what exactly he meant, he raised the goblet to his lips and drank.

The effect was instantaneous. Your blood met his tongue and any control he had slipped away. His pupils dilated to those of a predator as he guzzled the whole thing down in two deep swallows. He let out a gasp of air before returning to the cup, licking the sides so not to waste a drop. A low hum of bliss came from deep in his chest as he savored the rest, allowing his fingers to scrap the bottom before bringing it back to his mouth.

The sight should have left you horrified, but in truth, it was encouraging. Things would be different, but you could at least provide him this.

“Do you need more?” you asked.

This time his laugh was loud and genuine as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before licking the remains; yet another thing you found inexplicably endearing. He really was just a big cat sometimes.

“Dangerous thing to offer me in this state, darling,” he said. “Luckily for you, I found a nice burrow of rabbits yesterday.”

Once satisfied there was truly nothing left, he set the goblet down on the ground before turning his attention to your wrist.

“Let me see,” he said, reaching out a hand.

“It’s fine,” you promised. “I’ll get Shadowheart to look at it later.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, give it here.”

Knowing there was no fighting him, you relented, allowing him to unwrap the bandages.

He visibly winced as he examined the litter of harsh scratches along your skin. “What did you use? A rusty spoon?”

“I had trouble finding a good vein,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. You hadn’t thought it looked that bad.

“Oh is that all? And here I thought you’d lost an argument with a displacer beast.”

You pressed your lips into an annoyed line, but Astarion was already digging around his pack, coming back with a salve and potion of healing.

“Drink this.”

You shook your head, ignoring the pleasant little flutter in your chest at the gesture. “I told you, I’ll just ask Shadowheart.”

“Oh this isn’t just for you,” he said, dryly. “Do you think I want her believing you’d willingly butcher yourself just to give me a proper meal? Neither of us would hear the end of it.”

A small flush of embarrassment worked up your neck. He was right, of course. The party really hadn’t been subtle in their disapproval. It was the reason you had tried for discretion.

Without further protest you accepted the potion.

This seemed to appease him as he quickly got to work on applying the salve.

He had bought it not long after you had come to your little feeding arrangement. It helped to sooth small cuts and bruises while minimizing the threat of scars. He had initially offered to provide…other services to relieve the pain, but you had declined. This was the compromise. You’d offered to do it yourself, but he insisted, claiming it was the least he could do. In truth, it was all very…transactional.

This felt different. The hesitation he so often held, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, was gone. His touch was gentle, his expression focused and his body oddly relaxed. It didn’t feel like an obligation, but an act of kindness, one he was more than willing to give.

Any nerves that remained slipped away. You could find a way to live with this. Certainly it was more than others had given you in the past.

Once he was done, he pulled fresh bandages from his bag and began redressing your wounds with decidedly more precision than you had.

“I am glad you’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was hoping we could talk.”

A sharp sting of anxiety pressed itself into your skin.

“Oh?”

He nodded, tying off the bandage. “I think it’s important.”

You swallowed. The instinct to run pulled at your feet, but you managed to keep it in check. You owed him that much.

“Well, I’m here so…let’s talk.”

He breathed out an audible sigh of relief, raising his hands up as he took a small step back.

“Just stand there a moment. Don’t move.”

He spun around, rummaging through various bags before letting out a cry of triumph. He stepped back holding what looked to be a violin string glowing with magical golden light.

Your head tilted to the side as your eyes narrowed. “Is that…?”

“Part of the violin, yes,” he admitted. “Bit of a story. Short version, Gale was able to extract one of the strings. It shouldn’t cause any permanent damage to the instrument, as far as I know.”

You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “And Gale just let you pluck this from his tent did he?”

Astarion shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I, ah, may have had some trouble understanding how it worked and…inquired as to his assistance.”

“You asked Gale for help?” you asked, astonished.

“Don’t make me relive the experience,” he lamented. “He told me the strings themselves have different magical properties in order to create the effect you demonstrated the other night. Apparently this one alone compels people to tell the truth.”

He then took the string and carefully wrapped it around his wrist before handing the other half to you.

Your eyes widened, glancing between him and the offered cord. “What are you doing?”

“Leveling the playing field,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do that.”

His lips curved into a self deprecating smile. “I think I do though. I haven’t been honest with you and…while that’s not exactly unique to you, the regret I have is. So you see, it really is a selfish action. If I’m to be free of this, I need to know for certain you understand that what I say next is the truth…all of it.”

Your mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The expression on his face was one you had never seen before. While he did his best to hide under his usual indifferent airs, his eyes gave him away. You’d never seen them so open and unsure.

Slowly, you took the other end, feeling a familiar tingle spread through your fingers.

“Alright,” you said, cautiously. “What’s your favorite color?”

Flashes of red shot across your vision, moonlit skies and a pair of eyes you only just caught to be your own before the image settled on something else entirely.

“Pink,” Astarion blurted.

Your eyebrows shot up as the start of a delighted smile spread across your face.

“And orange,” he amended quickly, “and dark blue and…honestly just the color of the sky at sunrise.” He pouted as if annoyed at the words that escaped his lips, but he shook it off. “Alright, you had your little test run. Give me something harder.”

You considered a moment. It was very tempting to continue on with some more embarrassing questions, but that wasn’t the purpose of all of this. Best to start at the beginning.

“What did you think of me when we first met?” you asked.

He grimaced, guilt evident not just through his averted gaze but the tug of the string between you. “You were a target,” he admitted. “At best a convenient meat shield. You were just so…open, ready to trust. Manipulating you would be easy.”

You took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain between your ribs. You should have expected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle.

“And that’s what you were trying to do the other night, manipulate me?”

“Yes.”

Another stab of guilt, a flash of your own back walking out of a candle lit room as a hand that was not your own reached hopelessly outward.

Your actual jaw clenched. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Then what?!” you snapped. “Hells bells Astarion, do you even like me?”

“You drive me to acts of insanity,” he said indignantly, raising up the glowing cord around his wrist as proof. “Do you think I’d willing subject myself to days of Gale’s passive aggressive commentary on my personal life for just anyone? Of course I like you. Gods below!”

You stared, unable to deny the waves of exasperation mixed with the sound of your own laughter as heard through another’s ears. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in the chest of the body opposite you making your mind spin, as you tried to re-establish the divide.

“Why did you ask me to come to you?” you asked. “What were you hoping to gain?”

Astarion took a deep breath. It was only then you noticed how tightly he was holding the chord linking you.

“I was hoping to get back on track,” he said, slowly. “I had a plan when we met. A nice simple plan. Seduce you, bed you, manipulate your emotions so you’d never turn on me. It was easy…instinctive.”

He met your eyes and for the first time, you felt him fight against the images threatening to breach the gap between you. You caught the barest flashes, memories of half forgotten faces passing by one after another. Shame and vile brushed the edges of your mind, and quickly faded as Astarion regained control.

“But, you seemed immune to my attempts,” he continued. “I could tell you enjoyed my attentions, but you never asked for more. My simple plan that had worked on countless targets, couldn’t get off the ground. And yet, you still gave me blood, protection…trust. I couldn’t understand it. I found myself wanting to know more, to know you. To anticipate what you would ultimately ask in exchange. And then that night, you showed me exactly what it was you desired.”

Something slipped through. You saw yourself in the center of the tavern with darkness surrounding you. A rise of fear entered your heart as you heard your name called from familiar lips. And then, the world shifted, light came back into the world and it was…beautiful.

“I thought I finally understood you,” he said. “A poor repressed urchin who had been hurt one too many times. All that was required was a more gentle touch. I could provide that. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He paused, his expression softening. “And then you had to do the most inconsiderate thing and surprise me all over again: you asked for my heart, in exchange for yours. I should have been elated. It meant my plan had worked, not the way I intended, but you had fallen for it…for me. The trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I would fall for you.”

You stared, unable to say anything as a well of emotion threatened to burst from you. It was as if someone pulled a bow across your chest, creating a resonating sound that moved in harmony with your very soul.

It was true, all of it.

By some miracle, you wrestled back control over your lungs and tongue.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “Even if I had, would you have believed me?”

You averted your gaze. It was answer enough.

“It’s alright,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Smart really. I wouldn’t have believed me either.”

You nodded in appreciation, your mind still reeling from everything he had just confessed.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

You frowned, unable to shake a question that had been stirring for some time.

“Do you even want to have sex with me?”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his mouth falling open. “I’m standing here baring my soul to you and that’s what you ask?”

“You asked me what I was thinking,” you defended. “Besides, it’s a relevant question.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but let it go just as quickly with a huff.

“Well?” you prompted.

He made a series of non-commital noises, his mouth half forming words before being wrenched in another direction. The chord between you glowed brighter, twisting just a little deeper into his skin.

“I…don’t really know,” he said, slightly stilted, as if surprised by his own answer. “To be clear, I do find you physically enticing. In that aspect at least, I’d hardly qualify bedding you a chore, but... I spent two centuries using lust and desire to lure people back to him. In that time I developed the habit of taking myself out of my body, looking at it as if it were happening to somebody else. Even in those rare times it could be pleasurable, I still walked away feeling nothing but disgust and loathing. I don’t want those feelings associated with you. At the same time, I can’t help thinking that if we were together, it would be different. But, don’t take that to mean I expect it. Like I said, I don’t even know if I want it. Honestly, before you said it, I didn’t know saying no was an option.”

You took all of that in, your heart clenching as the full weight of what Cazador did to him settled on your mind. Red filed your vision, the sympathetic ache replaced with a rush of fury. He was a dead man. One way or another, you would see Cazador bloodied by the end of all of this. But as quickly as it had come you let the emotion pass. This wasn’t about him. You wouldn’t let him intrude any more on this moment.

“What do you want from me then?” you asked, softly.

To your relief, something familiar and teasing flashed across his face.

“I thought I’d made that obvious.”

With his free hand, he cupped your cheek allowing his thumb to lightly caress your skin. His scarlet eyes burned not with lust, but something warmer and just as desperate.

“You showed me the chorus of your heart. How could anyone look upon that and not desire it? The trouble is, the price you asked. I…I don’t know how to pay it. I don’t know how to be with someone that way, but I’m willing to learn. I want it all. I want you to have it all.”

The connection between you burned hot in your hand, but you couldn’t let it go. It felt so warm, so real. It filled every empty part of you to the point of bursting and still you wanted more. You were insatiable.

Astarion looked just as lost as you, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions for you to name. His body began to tremble. It was becoming too much.

In an instant you pulled his hand away, unwrapping the chord from around his wrist and tossing it aside.

He took a sudden deep breath as if coming up for air after being submerged in deep water.

“Shit,” he cursed, gulping for air. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm.

Your eyes widened as you caught the angry marks left behind on his wrist.

“Are you alright?”

He blinked hard as if clearing spots from his vision. “I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting that is all.” He turned his focus to you with a bewildered expression. “Does it always feel like that?”

“That’s admittedly a first for me,” you confessed. You reached out your hand, glancing at his injury. “Let me see.”

He followed your gaze frowning, as if surprised to note the welts forming on his wrist. Still he stepped closer allowing you to examine them without protest.

“Does it hurt?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Sort of numb, honestly, tingly.”

You nodded, swallowing hard to keep the rise of guilt and fear at bay. It didn’t help.

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t think a little thing like this is going to scare me off. I meant what I said. I intend to give you your fill.”

“You don’t have to give it all at once,” you promised. “I can be patient when it counts.”

A sly smile turned at his lips. “I almost hope you won’t. You’re not the only one who's starving.”

Heat spread up your neck, something Astarion undoubtedly caught as he gave a low laugh.

“Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what happens next?” he asked.

“I’m…not sure,” you admitted. “Nobody else has ever given me the chance to figure that out.”

He nodded slowly, before taking a small step back. His head tilted as if to examine you from every angle. A question started to form on your tongue just as the start of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly straightened before placing a hand on his chest and regarded you with a deep bow.

You grinned, matching him with a curtsy of your own.

He then offered his hand, which you easily took before he pulled you just a little closer. Your other hand found his shoulder while his pressed lightly on your waist. And then you did what was only natural. You danced.

It wasn’t anything elaborate. There was no fire or sparks of magic. You simply moved together to a song of your own imagination. It stirred in your chest, the barest pluck of a melody, but it was yours and his; the promise of a symphony to come.

Tag List:

@ambrolyer, @cassiecasluciluce, @tamwritesstuff, @hallowedandhungry, @mangomonk, @amefuyuu, @righteous-scamp, @starved-kitten, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @twinkliker3000, @unrestrictedbyreality, @screechingphantommaker, @becksynthetic, @black-sapphic, @dicenete, @isharaneith, @sarcasticlittlebook, @catsandskyrimcafe, @sora-o-kaku, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ka-du-trur, @baldursgateslittlestar, @rakilein

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #asexual #asexual!reader #asexual!tav #bard!tav #baldur's gate iii #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie

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candycandy00 · 7 months

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The League of Villains Halloween Horror Anthology Sign Up

This is the sign up post for the first annual League of Villains Halloween Horror Anthology!

The deadline to sign up for this event is September 30th! Please keep that in mind!

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

What it is:

The anthology will be various fanfics and fanart of League of Villains members reimagined as horror creatures/icons/characters, to be posted throughout October of this year. I thought it would be a fun way to get us all in the spooky Halloween mood.

This is an adults-only event! Please do not sign up unless you have your age listed in your bio or pinned post! Minors do not interact!

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Rules:

You can make fanfic or fanart, or both! But each piece must feature a League of Villains member (past or present, but only one per piece) as a horror creature/icon/character, such as a vampire or a masked killer. They have to be the source of the horror, so no zombie fics where the character is fighting zombies. If you pick zombie as your horror creature, the character you pick has to be a zombie.

Multiple people can claim each character, so if we get 30 Dabi fics, so be it. However, only one person can claim each horror icon for the medium you chose. So if someone already signed up for one of the characters as a vampire in a fic, you can’t sign up for a character (even a different one) as a vampire in a fic. You can sign up for a vampire in a fanart, provided no one else has. I will do these on a first come, first serve basis. So the first person to claim a given creature will get it. If a lot of people sign up and I feel like we’re legitimately running out of horror tropes, I might bend this rule a bit. Also! You can be specific to differentiate between creatures. Like an undead pirate is different from a regular zombie, and so on.

Fanfics can be X Reader or not. They can be NSFW/smut, or not. That’s up to you! If you choose Toga as your character, only write/draw SFW pieces for her, as she is a minor. It doesn’t matter if you age her up. You don’t have to make your piece horror, but it’s encouraged. This is a Halloween anthology after all. At the very least, a spooky vibe should be present, even if your piece is overall light hearted. Likewise, you don’t have to set the story on or around Halloween, but it would be nice to have some works that do so.

You can post your piece any time in October. From the first day of the month to the last. Ideally, the pieces will be spread out a bit throughout the month, but I’m not assigning anyone specific days. Just post it whenever you want in October.

If you sign up, but decide to drop out, that’s fine! This is a zero pressure event. You don’t even have to explain why. All I ask is that you send me a message or Ask letting me know so that I can remove you from the sign up list. Someone else might have wanted to write about the creature you chose, but couldn’t because you picked it.

When you post your piece, use the tag #lovhalloweenhorror. Feel free to use the tag before then! Use it to talk about the piece you’re working on, use it to post sketches or previews! Heck, use it even if you just plan to enjoy the fan works! Use it to talk about things you’d like to see/read as a viewer. Anything goes! Let’s build up some excitement!

As works begin to be posted in October, I’ll create a Masterlist post to list all of them in one convenient place. If you post your piece and you don’t see it added to the list within a day or so, send me a message to let me know in case I missed it.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

How to Sign up:

If you’d like to sign up to create a piece for this event, send me an Ask or a direct message with the following information:

Fanart or Fanfic?

Character?

Horror Creature?

That’s it! Please send a separate message for each piece you plan to make.

As people sign up, I’ll list them in this post so everyone can know what’s been claimed. Please be patient with me. I might be slow!

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

The List:

Fanfiction:

@missrosegold - Dabi - Demon

@candycandy00 - Shigaraki - Scarecrow

@jabberwocky-92 - Shigaraki - God of Decay

@scary-grace - Shigaraki - Ghost/Wraith

@spicymeatball1992 - Shigaraki - Incubus

@jabberwocky-92 - Dabi - Grim Reaper

@gamergirlghost - Toga - Vampire

@doumadono - Dabi - Merman

@doumadono - Toga - Rusalka

@red-as-mars - Dabi - Charro Negro

@candycandy00 - Mr. Compress - Mad Scientist

Fanart:

@sammystep - Twice - Dr. Frankenstein

@fleetwoodmoth - Dabi - Fire Atronach

@selinearts - Toga - Demon

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Ideas/Inspiration:

If you’re having trouble deciding on a horror creature/icon/character, here’s a list of some to give you some ideas! Obviously, what you pick doesn’t have to come from this list, and in fact I’m looking forward to seeing all the different ideas I never thought of. You can even create your own creature! This is just a list of some possibilities.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Feel free to reblog this! Let’s get as many people involved as possible!

#shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #shiragaki #dabi #touya x reader #league of villains #lov #dabi smut #shigaraki smut #mr. compress x reader #twice x reader #toga himiko #shigaraki tomura #todoroki touya #my hero academia #lovhalloweenhorror

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facewithoutheart · 6 months

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Thanks for the tags @shrekgogurt, @blackberrysummerblog, & @ic3-que3n ❤️❤️

Today in updates no one asked for, I’ve been picking at two long projects and start/stopping so many others… writing hasn’t been a huge priority for me right now and I haven’t been pushing myself to share but it makes me so happy to see y’all out here creating & thriving, even when I’m silent.

Long project #1 is my Drag Queen Baz fic, All I Ever Wanted was the World, which lives rent-free in my head. At any given point in a day, I’m thinking about this fic. I’m so so so close to the good part but for some reason I’m dragging my feet on the way there. Longfics are such a labor of love and I’m really enjoying the process.

Here’s a well-timed bit:

Niamh gives me an approving nod when she sees I’ve prepared fish tacos. “Nice timing,” she says, grabbing a plate.

It takes me a second to realise she’s referencing the Wanker’s daily theme and not the fact I’ve brought food on one of the days she works a double. I show her my nails, painted in varying shades of oranges, pinks, and red. “Not a coincidence.”

(Like I’d forget it’s Women Loving Wednesdays.)

Happy Women Loving Wednesdays! I spent a lot of time plotting out the Wanker’s daily specials when I was blocked on writing the fic, and it’s paid off.

Long project #2 is a ZimBits they-didn’t-kiss-at-graduation AU, which is one of my fav tropes, and it’s Christmas-themed so it’s helping me get in the spirit. I also wanted to get back in the flow of writing third person in case I ever try original writing again.

Here, have one of my favorite stupid puns:

Bitty was certain Jack would slip under the pressure of NHL life with an ever increasing delay in replies to Bitty’s phone calls and texts.

But if anything they’re closer for the distance. Jack’s the only one of Bitty’s friends who’ve made the trek down to Madison twice: first, that summer after graduation.

“I feared if I didn’t come in person, you wouldn’t stop sending apolo-pies for missing my graduation.”

“They’re a-pie-logies,” Bitty sniffed into Jack’s shoulder, wrapped in a tight hug neither of them seemed likely to break anytime soon, despite the July heat.

“Whatever you say, Bits.”

Side note: I’m seeking a beta if you read ZimBits/Check Please because this fic is kicking my ass.

Tags to @artsyunderstudy @cutestkilla @martsonmars @bookish-bogwitch @raenestee @thewholelemon @moodandmist @aristocratic-otter @theearlgreymage @best--dress @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @fatalfangirl @whatevertheweather @nightimedreamersworld @stitchyqueer @onepintobean @confused-bi-queer @forabeatofadrum @whogaveyoupermission @gekkoinapeartree @stardustasincocaine @hushed-chorus @orange-peony @palimpsessed @larkral @messofthejess @dragoneggos @ileadacharmedlife && of course anyone else who wants to share!

#WIPsday #wip wednesday #snowbaz #fanfic #zimbits #personal updates no one asked for #but you’re getting them!!!#women loving Wednesdays #all I ever wanted was the world

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uramilf · 11 months

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The Record Shop - Chapter One

A/N: Surprise!! It wasn’t bedtime after all

Warnings: SMUT. Oral (f receiving), weed mentioned, alcohol consumption, Matty being a bit too hot to handle also how cutesy is this gif

*Penny’s POV*

“Can I help you with anything darling?”

I opened my eyes wide at the sight of the beautiful boy in front of me. He smiled at me, and I blinked, pulling myself together.

“You can, actually,” I nodded. “I’m just looking for some Jeff Buckley?” He grinned. “You like him too, huh?”

I smiled back. “Yep, do you have Grace?”

“Of course, let me go grab one from the back.”

He left for a moment or two, and I heard him rummaging about through the back of the store. When he returned, he was holding a Grace vinyl. “I swear this is one of my favourite albums of all time.”

“Oh totally, it’s amazing,” I smiled back. He stood there for a moment, looking at me with those deep brown eyes. I looked back, meeting his gaze. We were quiet, but it somehow wasn’t awkward. It almost felt like I was meant to walk into his store.

After a moment or two, he broke his gaze and cleared his throat. “Sorry, do you need anything else darling?”

I shook my head. “No thanks, it was my first day at a new job today so I thought I would come treat myself to a record. I usually go record shopping after something big like that, you know?”

He looked surprised. “New job, huh? Where are you working?”

“Attitude hair salon, just down the street. I’m a hairdresser, just moved up here from London though.”

“Oh hey, my friends girlfriend gets her hair done there,” he replied. “She got it cut there last week and she’s been going on about it ever since.”

I grinned and he made his way behind the counter and scanned my record for me.

“I’m Matty, by the way. Oh sorry, you probably already saw that. Name tag. Duh.” I could tell he was getting slightly nervous, so I smiled at him again.

“I’m Penny.”

“That’s a pretty name, love. You mustn’t know many people here if you’re from London, then.”

“Nope, pretty much nobody, apart from the girls at work. I met them when I came down for an interview.” Matty nodded slowly whilst putting my new record into a plastic bag for me. I handed over some cash and he put it into the register, handing me back my change. Our fingertips brushed slightly and I saw a ghost of a grin on his lips. I could tell I was turning red.

“Will you wait here for just one second, darling?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Um, sure.”

He disappeared into the back of the shop once more and I heard him talking frantically to another man, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I definitely heard my name, along with ‘London’ and ‘doesn’t know anyone yet.’ I blushed a bit. I didn’t want him thinking I was pathetic for having no friends in Manchester. However, when he returned, he was accompanied by a man quite a bit taller than him, who had fair curly hair and dark eyes, with the same logo on his t-shirt: the word “fusion”, which was the name of the store, and a little embroidered vinyl record, and his shirt was dark grey instead of black.

“Penny, this is George. He’s my best mate, we’ve been working here together since we left school.”

George stepped forward and shook my hand.

“Hi, George, lovely to meet you.”

He returned the sentiment, smiling confidently. I have to say, it was turning into the strangest interaction I’d ever had in a record shop.

“So basically, George is having a party tonight, and all our friends are gonna be there. I thought since you haven’t really met anyone down here yet that you could come along? Don’t feel pressured to say yes, of course, but it could be nice for you to get to know some people in the area.”

I felt overwhelmed by their kindness and nodded eagerly. “That would be amazing, guys. Thank you so much.”

“No problem, Penny. Why don’t you gimme your number and I can send you my address?” George asked. Matty looked panicked.

“Actually Penny, if you give me your address I could always pick you up and take you. You know, that way you could have a drink without worrying about getting home.”

I laughed to myself. “Thanks Matty, that would be great.” I gave him my number and scribbled down my address quickly, before grabbing George’s number too in case of emergencies. I thanked the boys again, taking my record in the plastic bag and leaving the store.

“I’ll pick you up at nine, Penny!”

—————

I looked in the mirror one last time. I had opted for a tight black dress that reached my mid-thigh, but had a slit that went up my leg and left little to the imagination. My makeup looked good, some dark eyeshadow and a red lip making me look quite bold, a feeling a wasn’t used to. I was wearing black strappy heels that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk in after a few drinks, but I supposed I would just have to chance it. My phone buzzed and I checked to see a text from Matty: “I’m outside your building love x”

My heart fluttered at the message, especially the “x” at the end. I shook the feeling off. I had just met this guy, and he was really only inviting me out because I had no friends. Super romantic.

I grabbed my keys and headed out of the flat, getting the lift down to the ground floor. Stepping out the main door of the building, I shivered slightly at the cold air against my bare arms. My eyes fell on Matty, standing against his car.

“Hi darling. You look stunning.” He was in a similar pair of black jeans as he had been in earlier, but he was now wearing a white button-up and a leather jacket. He shrugged the jacket off when he saw me shiver and made his way to me, draping it round my shoulders right away. Holy shit. That was fucking hot. He even opened the car door for me, as if we were on a date. I tried to shake that thought from my mind. Of course we weren’t on a date. We had just met. It was just a party. I didn’t know anything about him - fuck - did he have a girlfriend?

Matty shutting his car door and switching on the radio pulled me out of my train of thought. Arctic Monkeys was playing - Fluorescent Adolescent. The song seemed to fit Matty. He must have been must older than me but he had a kind of boyish air about him, like a teenager constantly in trouble, but in a cheeky way that you couldn’t help but find funny. He turned his head to look at me. “You ok love?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You look great, Matty.”

He began to pull out of the car park, smiling at me.

“Thanks darling. I meant it when I said you looked stunning. You really do.”

My stomach was churning now. Even my ex boyfriend Alex had never made me feel this way, and I dated him for three years.

“Thank you Matty,” I said quietly. He eyed me again, for longer this time, until he had to look at the road again.

“Really, Penny. I know we’ve just met but if there’s something wrong, you can tell me. If you’re not comfortable hanging out with us this quickly it’s ok.”

I shook my head and giggled.

“No, Matty. It isn’t you. Honestly I’ve never been as glad to meet someone as I was to meet you, I thought it was gonna take me forever to get to know people.”

“So what’s up then, love?”

“I was just thinking about my ex. Our breakup was kinda the reason I moved, to start over. Me and Alex were together for three years, and it ended pretty badly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that lovely, I’ve been there.”

His hand crept onto my knee and gave my leg a reassuring squeeze, before placing his hand back on the wheel. My breath caught in my throat. I don’t think he knew how attractive he was without even trying.

—————

We arrived at George’s house at a quarter last nine, and there seemed to already be quite a few people around. I spotted George almost as soon as I walked through the door, wearing faded blue jeans and a button up similar to Matty’s. He strode over to me, wrapping me in a warm hug. George was someone I couldn’t help but like, even having only met him once very briefly before.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Penny! You look great.”

“Thanks George, great house,” I said, looking around. The house was small but, much like myself, he had made it beautiful. I noticed a photo of him and Matty hanging on the wall above the stairs and smiled to myself. It had clearly been taken years ago, when the boys were teenagers. Matty’s hair was longer and curlier, and George’s was less blonde. They stood at a similar height and had their arms around each other, grinning into the camera. They were both in shorts and Newcastle United shirts, and their arms were stick thin and bare of tattoos. In front of them was a little boy with light brown hair and a grin similar to Matty’s, who was clinging to one of George’s legs.

“That’s a nice picture,” I commented.

George looked up and laughed. “I think that was taken about 7 years ago now. We were only 17. That’s Matty’s little brother Louis in the picture, he was only 5.”

George led me into the living room, where most of the people were. A girl around my height came running over excitedly. She had long, black, straight hair which tumbled down her back and moved beautifully when she moved. I found my weird hairdresser brain thinking about how much I wanted to touch it. She slung an arm around George’s waist, barely coming up to shoulder height on him.

“Oh my god, you must be Penny! George said he met you earlier.”

“Yeah, that’s me!”

“I’m Charli. It’s so nice to meet you, babe. Let’s go get a drink.”

With that she stood on her tiptoes to give George a kiss on the cheek before linking her arm with mine and pulling me towards the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Charli introduced me to Adam and Ross, who were apparently some of Matty and George’s closest friends. Adam worked in a bar down the street from my flat, and I promised to call in next time he had a shift. Ross worked in a place a few streets over that did tattoos and piercings, and told me he had done most of his friends’ tattoos. Adam called his girlfriend Carly over to meet me, and she embraced me warmly much as George had when I arrived. The boys left to go for a smoke and I was left with their wonderful girlfriends.

“So Penny, George said you’ve just started at Attitude. We both get our hair done there,” Charli remarked, whilst pouring me a vodka lemonade (which seemed like a lot more vodka than lemonade, not that I was complaining.)

“Wait, really?” I took a sip of my incredibly strong drink. “I hope I get both of you when you next come in, I always prefer customers I know.”

After a short conversation with the girls about work (and how much I loved their hair), Matty appeared in my peripheral vision and draped an arm around my shoulder. “Sorry girls, do you mind if I steal Penny for a bit? I wouldn’t want such a beautiful girl to leave without me getting to know her.”

Carly raised an eyebrow. “You’re such a flirt, Matty. Give the girl a break, you just met her for god’s sake!” I giggled, unable to resist walking away with Matty, after catching Charli give me a knowing look.

—————

George had a small balcony attached to his bedroom which Matty and I had ended up on, sharing a blunt. We were sat side by side on the cold ground, the night air cooling us down. The weed hadn’t kicked in yet, but we were chatting away with no awkwardness whatsoever.

“So how old are you anyways, Matty?”

“24, you?”

“21.”

“So it’s totally ok for me to do what I’m about to do then.”

I snapped my head up to look at him. He gently cupped my jaw and pressed his lips to mine. I was shocked but kissed him back. Our lips moved together for a few more seconds before he pulled away. “Shit, love, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before I did that.”

“Hey,” I whispered, lifting his chin so our eyes were aligned. “I wanted you to.”

Matty’s smile could’ve lit up a thousand cities. “I know we only met today, and we know virtually nothing about each other, but I want to know you. I just have to.”

I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, taking the blunt from his hand and inhaling deeply. I put out the blunt in the ashtray next to me and snaked one hand around Matty’s neck, the other resting on his cheek. I pressed my lips to his and exhaled the smoke into his waiting mouth, where he inhaled it and breathed out the excess.

Matty stared at me for a moment, before leaning back on his hands and patting his lap. I swung a leg over his to straddle him, before crashing my lips to his again in a much more desperate kiss. His tongue swiped against my bottom lip and I opened my mouth slightly, allowing his tongue to enter my mouth. He tasted of weed and smoke and mint. My hands crept up to play with his hair, fingertips grazing against his shaved sides which seemed to be growing back a little. I was glad. Mullets were definitely not my thing.

Matty’s hands were venturing up and down my sides and my back, sometimes coming up to tangle themselves in my carefully curled hair or cup my jaw. I pulled away to catch my breath, and Matty used the time to press small kisses onto my neck and jawline. He began to get a little more cocky, sucking a bright red mark into the skin of my neck. I giggled; usually I would be a little annoyed but the weed was beginning to kick in and everything he did felt perfect.

“Hey, Penny?” Matty pulled away from sucking on my collarbone to speak. I took his face in my hands and whispered “what?”

“I just smoked weed and I drank a bit so I probably shouldn’t drive. Do you wanna get a taxi?”

“To where?”

“My flat. If you want.”

I couldn’t have thought of anything better at that moment, so I rose from his lap and pulled him along with me. I went to slide open the balcony doors, but Matty pulled me in for one last kiss, even dipping me back slightly in his strong arms. How could a stranger be more romantic than my ex-boyfriend of three years? I felt like I was going insane. I couldn’t even believe I had kissed him within only a few hours of knowing him, never mind going home with him. Maybe it was the weed talking, but I trusted Matty.

—————

Matty and I managed to get a taxi fairly quickly. He slid into the back seat beside me and told the driver his address. As soon as we started driving, his lips were attached to my neck again, kissing the skin gently. I turned my head and placed a hand on his cheek, pressing my lips to his. His tongue entered my mouth once more and I could still taste the weed in his mouth, along with some red wine he had downed before we left. I started to feel bad for the taxi driver and broke the kiss, resting my head on his shoulder and reaching for his large, calloused hand. He continued to press soft kisses to the top of my head and stroke my hand with his thumb for the remainder of the short taxi drive. It felt odd to be so intimate with a stranger. I had hardly even felt this close to past boyfriends. What was it about Matty that made me feel so safe?

When we arrived at Matty’s apartment building he paid the taxi driver quickly and basically pulled me out of the car and all the way inside, pressing the lift buttons frantically. I laughed at him, placing my hand on his jaw and pulling him down to look at me. “Chill out Matty, we have time.” I kissed his cheek as the lift doors opened and he pulled me inside, barely waiting until the doors had closed to pull me into another deep kiss. He bent down slightly to wrap his hands around my thighs. “Jump,” he whispered with a grin. I jumped up and he caught me, pushing me against the cold metal wall. I moaned into the kiss as his hands made their way to my ass, squeezing gently. The doors began to open again but Matty didn’t put me down, instead running down the corridor with me in his arms, until I was screaming with laughter and begging him to drop me. He lowered me to my feet when he reached the door to his flat as he fumbled with his keys to open the door.

No sooner were we through the door than he slid his jacket off his shoulders onto the ground and kicked off his shoes, connecting our lips again. “Please, Matty,” I whispered into his mouth, and he ran his hands up and down my back a few times before finding the zip of my dress and pulling it down. As the dress fell to the floor, he devoured me with his eyes. I had gone braless to the party and my nipples were rock hard with the cool air and anticipation of what was to come. My lower half was barely covered by a lacy black thong which seemed to attract Matty’s attention. He was already hardening in his jeans, and I couldn’t wait any longer, so I stepped forward to start unbuttoning his shirt. He yanked it off and threw it behind him, before pulling his jeans off and kicking them away from himself. He stood in a pair of black Calvins, eyeing me up and down and smiling. “How did I get this lucky? It’s not often girls as perfect as you come into the shop, babe, never mind me taking them home on the first night of knowing each other.”

I blushed, before saying “get a move on, Matty. I’m not standing here all night.”

He lunged towards me, tackling me onto the sofa and attacking my nipple with his tongue, making me cry out between bursts of laughter. He sucked a few dark red marks into the skin of my breasts, to match the one he had given me on my neck. He scooped me up, making me giggle, and carried me into his bedroom, throwing me down on the bed before stripping himself of his boxers and pulling off my thong, dropping to his knees when he saw my exposed pussy. He looked up at me for permission. “Can I?”

I nodded. He started by licking the whole way from my hole to my clit, making me cry out in pleasure, before settling on my clit and sucking, licking, grazing it with his teeth. I was dripping now, and one of his hands crept up and was catching some of the wetness on his fingertips. He inserted two finger into me, thrusting them in and out, curling them to hit my g-spot, while he kept licking my clit over and over. I screamed his name and clutched at his dark hair, nearing the edge. Him sucking my clit again and thrusting his fingers into me faster than before had me cumming over his hand and mouth, my arousal dripping down my thighs. He retracted his hand and placed his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean of my wetness. I lay panting, heart pounding, legs shaking.

“Fuck, baby. You’re incredible,” he whispered, as if I was the one doing the work.

He crawled up to hover above me and kiss me, the taste of my cunt on his tongue.

—————

Matty had tucked me under his duvet with a kiss to my forehead, crawling into bed beside me and pulling me tight to his chest. We had decided not to take things any further that night, realising that despite the feelings that had obviously generated extremely quickly and the connection we seemed to have, we didn’t want to rush into anything. I knew we were both drunk, both high. I didn’t want to wake up the next morning and think I had made a mistake. I rolled over to face him, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin of his cheek, before tucking my head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, and drifting off to sleep; our hearts beating in sync and our breathing matching each others.

—————

A/N: First chapter! Lemme know what you think PLEASE I’m begging give me feedback. Hope y’all enjoyed. Btw in the future when a few more parts are out I would LOVE to take requests for Record Store!Matty blurbs. We’ll see though 🫶

#the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut #smut #adam hann #george daniel #ross macdonald #matty #matty healy x oc

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chronic-ghost · 10 months

Text

Chapter 4 of Recovery Road

chapter rating: E (18+)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 4377

chapter summary: Despite the good, they’ll always manage to fuck it up.

chapter warnings/tags: arguments, discussions of poor family relationships, self-destructive tendencies, depictions of sex but nothing graphic, angst :(

a/n: i've finally put together a taglist request form if anyone wants notifications about this fic or any of my other series! This fic will update every Thursday now!

▲ Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

▲ AO3 Link

By the end of the first week waiting for production to resume, you’re living in his AirBnb.

Down the hall, in a separate bedroom, of course. But at least he gets to wake up and you’re the first thing he sees.

It’s temporary and you end up splitting the cost. It’s easier than getting a hotel, you justify, and all you have to do is send the PA a selfie to “clock in” and “out.” By the end of the first week, you have several selfies of Dieter Bravo that TMZ would pay hand-over-fist for.

You like scrambled eggs over runny, he learns. You like your coffee with a bit of creamer, no sugar. Your toast has to be golden brown, not burnt and not floppy.

“Makes me think of a flaccid penis,” you say one morning with your cheek in your hand as you shake a piece of un-toasted white bread. It wobbles beneath your fingers and he can’t help but bark out a laugh. “And that’s nobody’s best friend.”

“And you’ve ruined un-toasted bread for me forever. Thanks.”

There’s not much to do in Albuquerque so you spend almost every waking minute together. You go shopping together. He needs new running shorts and you’re getting bored up on the top of the hill. You help him choose between three pairs, and every time he comes out to show you from the dressing room, you’re wearing a different combination of hat and sunglasses.

“Mhmm, hmm,” you nod thoughtfully as though studying Michalangelo’s David, an $80 price tag dangling down your nose. “Hmm, I think you need to turn around again. I need to see another angle.”

He rolls his eyes, blush tinging his cheeks, his hands on his hip. “I’m not showing you my ass again.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful,” you shrug innocently. “I don’t want you running around Los Angeles looking like a dork. Imagine what Instagram will say.”

“Fine. One turn, and no lingering.”

“Whatever you say, hot cakes.”

He goes back behind the curtain, fingers tight around the edges of the running shorts. It was Chloe’s suggestion that he take up running– had seen a 60 Minutes episode on addiction and many former addicts reported that replacing one unhealthy addiction with a more healthy one was the key to their sobriety. But God, he hates running.

He emerges again, this time wearing ones that resemble those 80s little cotton red shorts, just to get a laugh out of you, but instead you’re holding something up.

It’s a pair of gray sweatpants. Soft. Cozy. Entirely former Dieter’s MO.

“What about these?” You say seriously, no glasses on your nose. “Seems more like you.”

He doesn’t end up buying the sweatpants, but takes only one pair of shorts.

One hot day, he sits out by the pool, practicing lines and drinking a coke.

You splash into the water without preamble and come up soaking. He thinks – he hopes – it’s the heat frying his brain. You swim laps while he reads lines, your tits and thighs breaking the surface of the water as you swim in elegant backstrokes. As the sunsets, you climb out, not wearing that one piece from the hotel. This one is electric green, ruffled, and a two piece that laughs at the idea it’s going to cover anything. You dry your hair as you walk back inside and he lets himself have one more glance at the curve of your ass.

Despite clumsily adjusting himself in his pants occasionally, this week has been . . . nice. There’s no pressure to perform, to be Dieter Bravo, the Movie Star. He can just be Dieter and, for some inexplicable reason, you seem to like this guy. With everything out in the open, he can feel himself relaxing around you, giving himself over to the pleasure of just being — of waking up when he wants to, reading the embarrassing romance novels he shouldn’t be caught dead with, eating pizza like he’s fourteen again — and you are right there with him. And you’re having fun.

He learns you’re mystically good Scrabble player (his game always has been Trouble), and that you are rather obsessive about spicy foods, and that the best memory of your father (of which there are only a handful to start with) is the one where he played paper football with you outside of his office while you waited for your mom to come pick you up. Half the time you wonder if that memory is real.

“He’s held me at arms length my whole life, and I get it. But sometimes I didn’t. Especially when I was younger. Then I realized I shouldn’t have to earn his love, because no matter what I did, he just wasn’t capable of it. If you truly love someone, you don’t make them feel like they aren’t enough. That they have to be different to deserve that love.”

“If it’s not, it’s not so bad not having a dad sometimes,” Dieter said as you sat in the car after a trip to grab a bite to eat after an attempt to make your own sushi turned out tragically. “Sometimes not having one is better than having a real shitty one.”

He made you arroz con pollo. So you make him lasagna, your old roommate’s grandmother’s recipe. It’s delicious and he’s surprised you’re a good cook. You don’t even ask to buy red wine at the store and he’s appreciative of that.

In turn, he surprises you with his ability as a painter. You come home one day from scoping out a potentially cool records store and he’s out on the second floor patio. He’s got on a white loose shirt and tan shorts and no shoes. He’s painting the canyon below in reds and golds. It’s not a perfect recreation but it does feel like the desert. It feels alive. It feels warm. It’s beating.

He’s got paint on his forearms when you step out onto the patio, mouth open.

“Holy shit, Dieter, you didn’t tell me you could paint.”

“You never asked.” He smirks at you as he wipes himself clean.

“No, but, Dee, this is good.” He glances at you. You only ever used his nickname when you were very serious about something. “This is, like, really good. Why are you an actor? You could totally do this for a living.”

“Because this is therapeutic,” he says, stepping away from the canvas as you come closer to inspect. He picks up his ice cold glass of water and drinks deep. “I, uh, actually picked it up in rehab. Always wanted to, but the excuse was I never had the time. But in there, you’ve got nothing but time.”

He usually doesn’t let anyone see his work until it’s finished, the thought of rejection hotly unbearable. Especially Chloe, given her famous father’s own world-renown artwork.

But you aren’t looking to judge or criticize. You are swept in by the painting, awestruck. It makes him warm, warmer than when the sun is on his skin.

“So, you like it?” He hesitantly stands next to you, the sticky, splotchy rag still in his hands. It’s not his best, but it’s not his worst. It just feels nice to paint again.

You nod, silent. Your mouth hangs open and your fingers hover over the oils, careful not to touch but clearly wanting to sink into the canvas.

“It’s not done yet, but, uh, when it is . . . do you want it?”

Your mouth drops to your chest. “Are you fucking serious? That’s gotta be some form of robbery. You could make thousands of dollars off it.”

“Well, I don’t want to make thousands off it. Do you want it or not?”

You nod vigorously, mouth still open in surprise. “Of course. Yes! Because then I’m going to turn around and sell it and make thousands!”

“You fucking better not!” He flicks water from his glass at you and you giggle, nose scrunched up.

“Hey, that’s no way to treat the nice roommate who got you tiramisu.”

He makes a face. “Bullshit. There’s no way Albuquerque makes good tiramisu.”

“I never said it was good.” You roll your eyes. “Just come and try it.”

You grin over your shoulder as you waltz back inside, the backs of your thighs as open and bare as a canvas. You’re wearing those distracting jean shorts but the auburn t-shirt goes nicely with your eyes. You’ve got your hair up again and he wants to count all the little curls at the back of your neck. He doesn’t, of course, but he wants to. The golden evening makes the whole house sparkle, and you’re at the center of it. A sun, blazing, beautiful, almost painful to look at.

He wants to paint you.

It’s peace. It’s relaxation. It’s bliss.

And none of it is his to keep.

Scott Manley, like the perpetually old man that he is, sends out an email at the end of the second week with an update on when shooting will resume.

“Hey, did you see this?” Dieter asks, holding up his phone as he comes out of his room and is immediately stunned. The entire house smells like bay leaves and garlic and you’re standing over a pot on the stove top, stirring something.

Whole-wheat pasta. Yesterday, he challenged you to make the world’s best buttered noodle recipe and, as if you could resist, you immediately went to the Food Network. Alton Brown has been playing on Netflix in the living room all day.

The steam is making your face pink and your brows are furrowed as you concentrate, lips ghosting over the words of the recipe on your phone. Your pink crop top has several stains on it.

Unguarded and unwatched, he smiles.

In another time, in another life, he would have bent forward and kissed your temple, email and dinner forgotten. He would have wrapped his arms around your waist and inhaled the scent nestled in your neck. In another life, he would have –

“What? Dieter, did you say something?” You blink up at him as if he teleported right in front of you with no warning.

He shakes his head, the movement small and contained. “Yeah, sorry. I said, did you read the email that Scott sent?”

“Nope. Why? What’s it say?” You go back to stirring, adding a bit of salt before sticking your finger into the pot and tasting.

“He says shooting will ‘recommence’ – his words, not mine – next Monday at 8AM. He also sent a schedule of all the scenes we’ll shoot next week.”

“Oh, yeah? Are any of ours on there?”

A spark runs up his spine. “See for yourself.”

Mark and Cooper, page 27-32 - 8:15AM

Samuel and Roxie, pages 45-51 - 10:20AM

Natalie and Dieter ***, 11AM

You frown. “Asteriks, what does that mean?”

His flush could be passed off as warmth from the stove. “Generally, it, uh, means intimate or sensitive content. So non-essential cast and crew know to stay off set during that time.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks are pink along with the back of your neck. “Hitting the ground running, I guess.”

“I wanted to talk to Scott before we left,” Dieter says as he leans with the back of his hips up against the counter. He crosses his arms, watching you slice butter. “I tried to get him to start with something a little less intense. But I guess, with the delays, they can’t reschedule.”

“It’s fine,” you wave your hand, nose wrinkling. “Good to know ahead of time.”

You turn back to the pot to slip the butter into the pot when his large, warm hand encloses your wrist. His black glasses have a thumb print so you’re kind of blurred out of his left eye. He doesn’t want to think you look upset.

“Really, are you okay with this? We’ve had a pretty good thing running here so far,” he smiles, “and I don’t . . . I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Your chin quivers for a moment before your mouth explodes into a smile. “Why would I feel uncomfortable? I know that Heidi hired an intimacy coordinator beforehand. There’s nothing to be uncomfortable about.”

The last word wavers, as if you were fighting a laugh that fizzled out. You step around him, easing yourself out of his grip, and add the butter to the pasta. You stir it a few times, before turning off the heat.

You beam at him. “Let’s eat!”

It’s nearly eight o’clock. The light from the fading sun is red tonight. Red and emboldened. It peaks into every window, every mirror. It can’t be looked at directly. The house still smells like bay leaves and garlic.

Dieter is leaning forward at the patio table, laughing so hard, tears are streaming down his face. You’re next to him, knees tucked your chest, grasping at your sides, as your eyes fill with giggly tears.

“And then the waiter– the waiter says – that’s enough shrimp cocktail for you.”

He’s laughing so hard he thinks his lungs are going to burst.

Seriously, he cannot remember ever laughing this hard in his whole life. Maybe he never had. Maybe life has never been this good.

He can’t see straight in front of him, but he can hear you. He can hear you laugh, and laugh, and laugh. It’s good. This is good.

Finally, when he might actually break a rib, when lungfuls of air have been gulped down, and palms rub away at tear-stained cheeks, you lean back and look at the coming night sky. You’re still huffing, chuckling as he sips ice cold water.

The buttered noodles were fucking excellent, by the way. He means to tell you that.

Your face is flushed but you’re staring up and away. You bite your lip and smile.

“What?” He chuckles, fighting off another giggle. “What are you thinking about?” He taps your knee.

He leans forward, like his body is reaching for you. But you always have your feet tucked up away from him. Like your body knows the line in the sand.

You shake your head. “Nothing. It’s just . . . this week has been so fucking weird, you know? Like, I can’t remember I binge-watched anything on Netflix–,”

“Where else were we going to find most of Shirley MacLaine’s filmography?”

“–Or just went shopping for the hell of it. I live in Los Angeles, for God sakes, and I just never go to any record stores.” You pick up the end of your braid. “I don’t know. It just feels like all this stuff I did this week wasn’t me. Like someone from another timeline possessed my body and did stuff as me, but I was someone else. Sorry, I know I’m not making any sense.”

“No, no, I do. I do understand. I feel the same way.” His heels dig into the concrete and pull his chair forward. “I think not being attached to my phone was nice.”

Cell reception was spotty up here, neither calls nor text reliable to go through. Throughout the week, when in town, he’d try to check in with Chloe. Texts. A few phone calls. They went through but he never heard back. Finally, he had sent her an email explaining the situation and this was the best way to get in touch. He did mention you too. That a “friend was staying over until production resumed.”

He wasn’t lying.

He had gotten a few replies (“I’m doing great, Dee. Dad’s so excited about the upcoming renovations.”, “yep, that’s my flight number.” , “haha”) but nothing in the past day or so. He didn’t exactly check his emails frequently. He knew he was just misreading her tone but it made his stomach sour when he read her messages.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah,” you blink as though the thought of being cell-phone free was just now occurring to you, “Oh my God, that was amazing. This’ll probably be the last time in a long time where I don’t feel like I need to doom-scroll out of boredom.”

You take your glass and hold it in the cradle between your thighs and your chest, looking at the immaculate sky behind him. “I dunno . . . this just felt like I got to be someone else for a change. Like this is our own little pocket universe.”

Our. Our, she says. Dieter’s grin falters and he leans away.

His phone is lying face down in his room where he left three hours ago. He feels like he should go get it.

Instead, he drinks the rest of his water. “Yeah, it’s been nice.”

But you’re still imagining, lost somewhere above the house.

“What are you going to do when you get back? The first thing.”

There’s an ugly, guilty muck tightening in his chest.

“Uh, I don’t know. Kiss my wife, probably. Tell her I love her, and then go to sleep for forty-eight hours straight.”

That is the wrong thing to say. Your gaze drops on him like a stone.

“Oh.” Your tone is distant. Like the clang of a wardrum.

He feels it, squirming under his skin.

That old need, from the time before. That dark, slippery wet thing that whispered in his ear.

You don’t deserve anything good. Ruin it. Ruin it. Ruin it.

Destroy destroy destroy

You huff, shaking your head, irked but not yet combative. You’re not ready to make this an active warzone. You aren’t ready for mutually assured destruction. Not like he is.

“Well, if that’s what awaits me as a housewife, then I guess I’ve got no complaints.” You smirk, pulling at your braid again. “Ruffle dresses, apple pie, a vacuum – I think I’d make a fantastic housewife.”

Dieter laughs. He actually laughs and it’s like he can almost see his life from another angle.

He’s trapped on the inside and some fucking asshole taking control of his body because this is what happen when things go well. He’s lost permission. He’s got strings on his back and they’re bending his knees, forcing him to eat dirt and shit.

It infects. It rots. It wants to burn it all down.

This is how the spiral starts. This is always how the spiral starts.

He laughs, cruelly. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re messy, distracted. Self-centered. What, next you’re gonna be a mother?”

You can see the meanness in his eyes. You chew the back of your teeth, black holes in your head for eyes.

“Fuck you, Dieter.”

You stand up and storm back inside. He groans and he stands up to follow you.

“C’mon, don’t be that way. It was just one comment. I meant it as a compliment.”

You freeze halfway through throwing your phone into your purse.

“A compliment? How the fuck is that a compliment?”

“You’re leaving?” He spots the car keys in your other hand. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Dieter, answer me. How was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“You’re just proving my point! You’re not that kind of person!”

“Oh, you mean the kind of person who waits around home all alone while their husband spends an entire week with another woman? That kind of housewife?”

“Goddamn it,” he slams his palm onto the countertop, “watch your fucking–,”

A glass at the edge of the counter trembles and topples to the ground. It shatters everywhere.

It lets out a ringing. It rings and echoes and startles the coyotes under the mesa.

They’re howling in the dark as you stare at him.

“I’m fucking leaving.”

And you do. You take the car and drive down the mesa.

The ache in his chest bubbles and cracks and burns and hisses. It’s putrefying. He purposefully breaks four more glasses after you leave.

He cleans it all up, just like he always does. He accidentally steps on glass and has to spend thirty minutes trying to pull out a glass shard out of the bottom of his foot with fingers so full of rage, they’re trembling. He’s so angry he can’t see straight.

He gets it out. He’s bleeding worse than ever. He wraps his foot up in gauze and shuffles into bed.

He checks his phone. No new emails.

“Fuck,” he hisses and chucks the phone off the bed. He presses his hands into face and groans. “Goddamn it.”

It’s been three hours and you’re still not home.

It’s four o’clock in the morning. He knows this. He’s been watching the clock tick by. He knows this because he’s awake and he can hear it and, on some level, he is vastly aware he deserves this.

He can hear you fucking someone down the hall.

He heard you come in, giggling, hushing, stumbling – you’re drunk he knows it – and a deep, male voice following you, talking after you.

And then the talking stopped.

Furniture squeaked. Bodies knocked into walls.

Your goddamn moans that had once been for him.

“Faster,” you beg, at the end of the hallway, “c’mon. I wanna feel it tomorrow.”

Dieter stares up at the ceiling, hands clenched on the sheets, every muscle in his body locked up tighter than a fist, and listens to you fuck a complete stranger. Some twisted part of him thinks you want him to hear.

“Oh, God, I’m coming– I think I’m coming–,”

The other voice is too low, just muffled noises.

And then you scream. It’s loud and it’s fake and he’s nauseous.

He knows he made a mistake. He knows he pushed too hard on that thin line of reality, that bubble that existed just around the two of you in this little house. He was cruel, he shouldn’t have said those things – but, fuck, he really didn’t think you’d do this.

His heart is so heavy, it’s sunk into the back of his spine. He thinks he can feel it beating there, alive, but stunted.

He just wants this to be over, but he might deserve this. He might, but you didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to make him listen. Force him to imagine. Imagine what he could never have.

The following morning, you come out of your room at the same time he does. You don’t look guilty. You don’t even look mad any more.

There are clothes everywhere. Everywhere. Your bra is on the kitchen counter. Your thong is in the dead center of the hallway. Your shirt is over the TV and it looks like it had been torn clean off your chest.

The guy you fucked is gone.

Makeup is smeared beneath your eyes. Your pupil-black eyes. You’re using again.

“I’m moving out,” you say.

“Good.”

He walks past your thong and goes to start the coffee machine.

The day after that, you fuck him.

Not literally but it’s the sex scene.

You don’t fight on set. You fight in character, but the second Scott ends the scene, the light in your eyes disappears and you turn away.

Scott, of course, is delighted. No more arguments that threaten to level the building, and the chemistry is still there.

“I’ll be sure to tell the studio that close quarters character work is a great success!” He claps Dieter on the back. “Great job.”

Dieter watches you walk by, silent, contained. You haven’t spoken a single word to him.

When he has to kiss you, it feels perfunctory. Your tongue is dry and your lips cracked. Chloe’s face comes to him easier and quicker than it has in ages.

And then they direct you to strip and climb on top of each other. If this was how actual sex went, the human race would have died out a long time ago.

He fights to close his eyes half the time, to act like he’s enjoying this. To feel something as he grinds his hips just below yours. Everything is fake. It even smells wrong. It smells nothing like hot, delicious sex. He can barely feel your hands on his chest.

Your moans are too airy, too high-pitched to be real. He’s got his cock strapped down and he’s rubbing against the mattress and you’re beneath him, moaning like you’ve got a fire poker shoved up your ass.

He can’t help it: he laughs.

But the professional that he is, he turns away from the camera and passes the laugh off as a shudder.

You’re being ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous.

But it’s convincing when it needs to be and Scott calls cut after a reasonable amount of takes.

It’s over. It’s done. What the fuck was he so worried about?

He went to a coffee shop the morning after you left and called Chloe’s phone until she answered. She had been so busy she hadn’t seen his email. The guilt eases, replaced by an uncertainty he could feel smack in the back of his teeth.

When he came back, all of your shit was gone. The guest bed was even made up perfectly. Every trace of you had evaporated from the home, as if you’d never been there in the first place. Even the painting he made for you remained untouched.

You don’t say anything as you walk by in the changing room, after pretend-fucking him for the better part of an hour, fully clothed already while he’s taking his time in his robe. A good scene partner would congratulate you on a job well done. Neither of you are capable of that.

He can’t put his finger on exactly what was so funny, but somehow he just knew those noises were over-enthused, dramatized.

He’s got his boxers on and he’s sliding his jeans over his hips when he remembers.

Those sounds were nothing like the ones you made when you finger-fucked yourself on his couch. To him. In front of him.

The memory buzzes around his head like a fly and he shivers. Fuck, he was so close to being normal about this.

He thinks about going to talk to you, going to apologize, but then he remembers you brought some fucking guy back to his home – the home you shared together — and suddenly he doesn’t feel so bad anymore.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo/reader #dieter bravo/you #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction

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infloresco · 5 months

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RULES.

Hi, Janice here and I am finally writing some rules. It is a short thing, just putting things that I think that are very important. If I think of more, I will definitely add it here. I am a pretty nice and chill person. I love screaming about our muses and their interactions. I am an absolute angst lover.

General rules & quality of life.

This blog is semi-selective & independent. Activity varies from to to week basis since I don’t have a set work schedule. Most of the IC interaction will most like be with mutuals since it is better for me tracking wise.

AU and OC’s are always welcomed and encouraged, especially if we have discussed it previously. (I have yet to write down all the different verses Robin is part off, so If you ever have any questions about them, please don’t be afraid to ask.)

NSFW content is present in this blog. I will always try to tag everything accordingly but as a general rule interaction as will be discussed before hand. Because of that it is advice to be 18+ and over. Any interaction with a minor will lack any sensitive material. Anyone lying about their age in search of NFSW interaction will be blocked! On the tagging topic, for the most part I don’t have any triggers, but if you aren’t so sure about something and you wish to discuss it before hand you can always contact me. (the best way to do it is on discord. Tumblr IMS are glitchy for me tbh)

Very important, my inbox, asks are always welcome, IC (obviously if we are mutuals I will reply to it eventually) and OOC (especially if you wanna know more about my take on Robin). My anon are one but as a general rule: don’t abuse it. I’ve received a few ill intended messages. If they were to continue, I will definitely turn off anon.

For the most part this blog is multi-ship. I love discovering dynamics and if our muses click, expect me sending you cute lil things and musing about them. But if that’s something you aren’t too keen on, please let me know. The last thing I would like is to be a bother to you.

If I reply to an ask and you like to reply to it, please do. If you like it but you just want to reblog it, you are more than welcome to do so. I really don’t mind. And on that note, I’m not really on the reblog karma thing, If you want to reblog a meme from me, please do it. If you did it by accident? Please know I will not be made about it.

As established before, activity will vary weekly because of work but I will like to say that it will also be dependent on how I am feeling my muse. Hyper-fixation of certain topics prompt me to reply immediately, while sometimes I might not feel motivated to write. I try as much as I can to reply to all my drafts and inbox. Rarely do I clear my inbox so if you sent me something, I will most likely respond to it, eventually.

My mental health is slowly getting into a good place but sometimes the decline comes and my activity might become less. Even if I am not writing, I always love to discuss and plot, actually gives me motivation and serotonin to come back. But it is important that you know that I do this for fun, if you start pressuring me for replies I am going to call you out on it.

ABOUT SHIPPING:

I love to write various different ships. I love the discovery of something new. That said, please don’t force any ships for my muse. Chemistry is very important in any type of relationship. Be the romantic type or even a friendship. I love it when our muses vibe.

Robin is written as demi-sexual. Connection is truly important and the first step to have any sort of relationship.

I am open to a list of dynamics, from slight toxic and age gaps (muses need to be of age of course) Enemies to lovers… anything that gives me drama and angst. When I think of more I’ll write it down.

NFSW memes are open to people I ship with.

I have a bias for these ships: LawBin and Frobin but that doesn’t mean I won’t write anything else. Frankly I’ve been wanting to write Robin x Crocodile.

I am probably missing some things, but I couldn't figure it out. I think I've said like a million times already, but I will add anything that comes to mind.

#GENERAL RULES.

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thestarfishdancer · 9 months

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tagged by the delightful @shineyma - thanks for the tag, it's nice to have fun things to think about!

name: Myranda. Often misspelled, most recently as Moiranda by the Starbucks barista who asked "Is is Mir?" and got the reply, "Myr, actually, but it doesn't matter!" and yet neither of those were used!

pronouns: she/her

where do you call home: Northern Canada. Yellowknife, if you need more pinpointing but honestly I usually just get ??? after that so... Northern Canada. Above the 60th parallel Northern.

favorite animal: Like @shineyma who tagged me, also tiger! I like the way they stalk about and their stripes. I also like dolphins though.

cereal of choice: I actually rarely eat cereal! When I do, I tend to weirdly like the "boring" grownup granola kind I would have turned my nose up at as a kid.

visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner: Some combo of auditory and visual, not entirely sure. I can remember a lot from what I hear without notes, but I also recollect a lot of what I see/read, so...

first pet: A couple of tetra fish.

favorite scent: A light floral jasmine.

do you believe in astrology: I think anything that you can use to help discover more of yourself is interesting and that there's validity to it. I read my horoscope now and again to see what resonates, but really I can take it or leave it.

how many playlists on spotify/apple music: Several! I love exploring playlists, but I'm also lazy. Periodically I made a new one for myself or do one for a friend, but when making a "real" playlist I'm also obsessed with the flow being JUST RIGHT so they take forever (though I do also have "dump songs in playlists". My friend Emily makes incredible playlists though. She used to live above me when we both lived in a different building, and once there was music playing loudly and I messaged her and was like, 'hey, what are you playing???" and she was all "I'm sorry, I'll turn it down!" and I was like, "No! I'm not complaining, I am chilling to this hard!" So she burned me a couple of CD (this was like 10 years ago) of the playlists she'd made: "Love Songs For Lonely Foxes" inspired by the foxes by hour house and "I Miss Pear Crisp". She still sends me an excellent playlist now and again. Here's one: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3d0aHp9eEttSA1GZ1E8lcp?si=e1bd2c36dfc14869

sharpies or highlighters: Sharpies, but only for writing the address on packages. I like pens with really fine tips.

songs that make you cry: I can't really think of any that make me cry on my own. Music on its own not yet a tear trigger for me.

songs that make you happy: So many. I just love discovering new music. Or old music. I was Teamsing with an HQ colleague lately about The Rigs, The Civil Wars, The Weepies being a vibe I like, so thinking of those artists is making me happy lately!

do you write/draw/create: I do write, though I haven't been lately. I have been taking on some editing projects outside my day job. BUT my best friend and I did write and publish a kids' book this year, and we're both off in September (she's a constituency assistant so our territorial election means no job in September, so I planned some Leave With Income Averaging to coincide) so we are going do a writer's retreat for just over a week together to work on more... then I'll be hanging around BC for a few more weeks on my own to get inspired by the ocean and work on some of my own writing. Hopefully the Muse will appreciate the setting and become a little more activE

tagging but no pressure: @dresupi, @meghan84, @treaddelicately, @sapphireglyphs, @ANYONE who wants to! My brain is too tired to tag more! I'm an old potato who slept poorly, and needs to get a few more braincells back to rub together.

#tag game #tag meme

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lucy-sky · 10 months

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15 Questions + 15 Mutuals

Thanks for the tag, @anna-hawk! :***

Were you named after anyone?

Officially - after my grandfather’s older sister. Unofficially - after my mother’s best friend :)

When was the last time you cried?

Hmm... I think when I was watching The Guardians of the Galaxy?.. Yesterday I watched Stand by Me and it also made me feel like crying, but I can’t say I really cried, if you get what I mean.

Do you have kids?

Nope.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I mean... How else can I possible survive here? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Agree with you, it’s mostly the eyes, I think. Unless there’s some particular feature like interesting hairstyle, jewellery, memorable print on a shirt... I notice the details, you know.

What's your eye color?

Brown.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Umm why not both? Not necessarily in the same movie, I mean :D But there are scary movies with good ending too. Anyways, all depends on my mood. Sometimes I want to watch something light, sometimes something sadder... But isn’t it like tha with everyone?

Any special talents?

I uh... Really don’t know?.. I’m good at languages I guess :)

Where were you born?

Arkhangelsk, Russia

What are your hobbies?

Graphic design (including making gifs as well :D), drawing, writing, sometimes scrapbooking (I make handmade cards for friends for all the holidays, can send you one :DD), languages (Irish Gaelic currently)... I used to be very much into photography, but now I’m tired of carrying a professional camera around all the time. But I still make quite a lot of pictures on my phone :)

Have any pets?

Nope. My relatives have a cat though, and I can cuddle him when I come over :))

What sports do you play/have you played?

I don’t play any sports, just ride a bicycle and go to the gym twice a week.

How tall are you?

162 cm

Favourite subject in school?

English!

Dream job?

I don’t dream of labor (c) :DD Tbh a while ago I answered this question like that: I’d love teaching movie stars my language/pronunciation/culture, and I still think that’s a cool idea. If you want me to be more realistic - anything where I can use my language or photoshop skills would be nice and satisfying.

No pressure tags: @a-supernova-girl, @jcusack, @like-a-million-suns @munsonownsmyass and everyone who wants to :)

#tag games

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ronancestyle · 2 years

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tagged by @hopelessronantics ! thank you :D

zodiac sign: capricorn

fave musicians: my top artists on spotify are currently pheobe bridgers, mitski, taylor swift and laufey which like yeah that checks out

fave sports team: don't watch a ton of sports but i like watching college football and professional baseball sometimes!

sports watched: football and baseball

other blogs: i've got a backup account but i haven't posted anything there

do i get asks: sometimes but not very often so feel free to send me some <3

following: 70 which isn't a lot i know but i have only had this blog for a few months

tumblr crushes??: not any really but all my mutuals seem very nice!

lucky number: i've always liked 17

what i'm wearing: t-shirt that says chicago in a wacky font and pyjama shorts

dream vacation: france or nyc!

dream car: idk jeeps seem pretty cool but anything that would keep me safe is fine

instruments: clarinet! also trying to learn either alto or tenor saxophone

languages: english and french

celebrity crush: i'm going to be real here for a second,, for the longest time I thought people had celebrity crushes as a joke 💀💀💀 but maya hawke is very cool of course, maya hawke our beloved<33

tagging: @pimplepogue and @lovelybuckley +plus anyone who wants to join! no pressure tho

#mutual tag #ask game

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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years

Note

hmmm

I'm an avid enjoyer of the Wings AU and I had a question.

If I were to do a study of some of the places would you like to see some of the art? I just kind of want to do fantasticalish (wow. such word. I can english I promise) settings and I feel like Shattered Upside Down would be a fun one to think about.

I think you also said you enjoyed getting art so would you want an ask of it if I do end up liking the pieces?

Yes!! Of course I'd love to see some of the art! It's so cool to see how people visualize the places and things I describe and transfer them onto paper, and it's so so amazing that people want to create things based on the au. Like!! Those are my words!! And you have turned them into art!

There's no requirement or pressure to share anything you've created, but if you do want to share anything I will be more than thrilled to receive it and shower you in compliments. And should you share it, do so however works best for you! You're welcome to send it in ask form, as a submission, or to post it on your own account (if you have one)--just please tag me if you chose the last option so I can see it! any way works I'm just honored to see it either way <3

also "avid enjoyer of the wings au" come here i am giving you a kiss on your silly little forehead I love you this is so sweet! (/p) every time someone says they like the wings au I am surprised for some reason. like I know people have read it and I can see the hits count go up when a post a new chapter but my brain doesn't register is as "people enjoy the au" so it's always nice to hear

in case anyone was wondering, this applies to everyone. everyone has my permission to create anything they'd like in relation to the wings au. my one request is that if you do share/post it, let me know so I can see it!!

#kotlc #kotlc wings au #shattered upside down #quil's queries #nonsie #I like how the au has an entire name but we've all collectively just ignored it and went no it's the wings au #i think it's very endearing #also this ask was so sweet!! if you do make art and feel comfortable sharing I'd love to see it <33 #seriously makes my day #so do asks like these. like woa. people like the au <33

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candycandy00 · 8 months

Text

The League of Villains Halloween Horror Anthology Sign Up

This is the sign up post for the first annual League of Villains Halloween Horror Anthology!

The deadline to sign up for this event is September 30th! Please keep that in mind!

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

What it is:

This is an adults-only event! Please do not sign up unless you have your age listed in your bio or pinned post! Minors do not interact!

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Rules:

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

How to Sign up:

If you’d like to sign up to create a piece for this event, send me an Ask or a direct message with the following information:

Fanart or Fanfic?

Character?

Horror Creature?

That’s it! Please send a separate message for each piece you plan to make.

As people sign up, I’ll list them in this post so everyone can know what’s been claimed. Please be patient with me. I might be slow!

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

The List:

Fanfiction:

@missrosegold - Dabi - Demon

@candycandy00 - Shigaraki - Scarecrow

@jabberwocky-92 - Shigaraki - God of Decay

@scary-grace - Shigaraki - Ghost/Wraith

@spicymeatball1992 - Shigaraki - Incubus

@jabberwocky-92 - Dabi - Grim Reaper

@gamergirlghost - Toga - Vampire

@doumadono - Dabi - Merman

@doumadono - Toga - Rusalka

Fanart:

@sammystep - Twice - Dr. Frankenstein

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Ideas/Inspiration:

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Feel free to reblog this! Let’s get as many people involved as possible!

#dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki #dabi #league of villains #lov #mr compress x reader #league of villains fanfiction

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fairydustedtheory · 2 months

Text

Time for a new pinned post!

So you guys know life hasn’t been too kind to my kid and me since end of 2022 and all of 2023. I’m not going to do the “previously on the life of Audrey and daughter” because i think I share enough in my personal tag and I don’t want to go over the awful bits again. I’m here to say that it seems like 2024 is treating us a bit better, at least emotionally! My kid’s therapist was happy to announce that she saw a nice improvement. My kid having been left alone by her biological father and paternal grandmother is the main reason, and obviously therapy and time both help heal wounds. I’m still absolutely disgusted by the fact that her father pulled all the horror last year just to disappear as fast as he appeared… the asshole. I mean I’m glad he disappeared from our lives again but if he could just have stayed gone and never shown his face, it would have saved my kid a lot of hurt. Anywayyyy I guess it was meant to teach us something and everything happens for a reason and all that.

Then there’s the legal side. It’s not absolutely over yet. We’re still living with some sort of threat above our heads that maybe the grandmother will try to pull some BS. But it’s the waiting game at this point, every time nothing happens is a win for my kid. I’m working on my patience and bracing myself for whatever will come in the future.

financially, there’s not much to say except that my bank account is still a deep void of barely anything. I’m in a small town where there’s not a lot of jobs (and the jobs are always given to whatever children/cousin/friend of the people running the town… so not me since I’m a nobody). I don’t want to think it’s not in the cards for me but I’d very much like not to be an old granny when I start a career so I’m sending vibes to the job gods for something that would make life easier and not harder because we’re still not at our best yet so we can’t do hard right now.

I know the inflation/recession/overall state of the world is terrible for everyone so as always no pressure and not expecting much, but here is my Kofi account in case anyone feels like donating a few bucks and I also made a new Amazon wishlist with basically everything in it (some are essentials like food or nasal spray and other cold remedies, some essentials and gifts for my kid, and then some stuff I’d like to get for myself but definitely can’t right now but I’d like to budget for if I could).

❤️

#personal

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Note

Hi!! It's me AGAIN! 😝 May I request "OH, you're jealous!" with Gibbs? I love jealous Gibbs so much!! 🤭👀❤️

I love writing jealous!Gibbs!! Thank you for your request! This took an unexpected turn, I hope you'll like it! 👀❤️

Warnings: smut, dom!Gibbs, blowjob

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

Oh, you're jealous

You met Leroy Jethro Gibbs a couple of years ago. You had just started as an FBI Agent, and you were Tobias Fornell's partner. The case with NCIS was your first interagencies encounter, and not on your life would you have thought about meeting the most amazing man.

But you did and you spent the next year hoping something would happen with him. Every time you heard about NCIS through a case, you made sure to be involved. It's only after Diane's wedding with Victor that things finally took the turn you were waiting for.

Tobias had a hard time seeing his ex-wife and mother of his daughter getting married again, especially after he learnt that she had cheated on him with that Victor. After the wedding, you invited him for drinks but he told you he already planned on getting at Gibbs's house and he told you to join.

You did, and by the end of the night, Gibbs and you were making out in his basement while Tobias had passed out upstairs on the couch.

That was a year ago and since then, your relationship with Gibbs has been amazing. Unfortunately, you don't see each other as much as you'd liked to. You're both committed to your jobs and you knew about your boyfriend's past. You don't want to pressure him into anything, it may scare him away.

There are actually good sides of not seeing each other much; when you and Gibbs manage to get together, you just enjoy one another's company and there are no fights. What would you two argue about anyway?

You can't say you and him are clearly dating, since you never used that word and actually, you never talked about what the relationship is and where it's going. Eventually, you'll have the talk, but not for now. You don't want to ruin it by asking it to be serious or planning a future.

Finally, a new joined case came in. Gibbs called Tobias and quickly, you two were driving to the NCIS headquarters.

Of course, Gibbs's team doesn't know anything about whatever is going on between you two. To be fair, Tobias was suspicious, but you - or Gibbs - never told him anything.

When you arrive in the bullpen, you can see Tony DiNozzo's face lighten up. He greets you with a huge smile, clearly avoiding Tobias. "Y/N, it's nice to see you again! This case just became very interesting," he winks at you and you chuckle. Tony has been very flirty with you for the beginning, and if you hadn't had a crush on Gibbs at the very first second, you probably would've hooked up with the Very Special Agent.

"Nice to see you too, Tony. I like working with you, guys," you smile and your eyes finally settle on your 'boyfriend', sitting at his desk, already talking with Tobias. He doesn't greet you at all, instead he just asks his team to do a sit-rep.

As you're staring at the screen and listening to McGee, you can feel Tony's body on your left and Gibbs's on your right. Gibbs's fingers are gently brushing yours and you can feel shivers running down your spin.

"You cold, Y/N?" Tony whispers in your ear. "Want my sweater?" he offers and before he knows it, a hand slaps the back of his head. "I'm just being nice, boss," he complains. Boss doesn't answer.

Tim finishes the sit-rep, and orders are given. Of course, Gibbs asks you to be with him and the two of you are on your way down to Autopsy. As soon as the elevator's doors close, Gibbs's mouth is all over you.

"Hey," he finally greets you.

"Took you long enough," you say between two kisses. He smiles against your mouth, ready to kiss you one more time but the ride is over and the doors open.

After that stop in Autopsy, Ziva tells Gibbs that the BOLO they sent gave results and they need to get going. He tells her to go with Fornell. As you need to check a few things in the FBI database, you settle at an empty desk with your laptop and get into work.

Quickly, you notice someone putting a coffee next to you, "Latte, two sugars, am I right?" Tony asks.

"Wow, no one brings me my coffee at the FBI. I'm gonna need Fornell to steal you," you smile at the Agent.

"I'd rather have you joining us. I'm sure Gibbs would be okay," he says. "Although, if I break rule 12 again, I'm a dead man,"

"Wait!" you think for a moment, "Rule 12 is--never date a coworker, right?" Tony nods. "Very presumptuous of you, Tony DiNozzo," you grin at him.

Not that you enjoy flirting with DiNozzo - even if it feels nice that a handsome man like him is hitting on you - but you can see Gibbs's pissed off face in the corner of your eye and you do enjoy that. "Well," as he's practically sitting on 'your' desk, Tony leans over you and whispers, so no one can hear, "You're pretty, I'm pretty. We can make pretty good things together, don't you think?"

You only have time to softly laugh, since Gibbs got up and headslaps DiNozzo again. "Quit flirting at work, got it, boss,"

You watch Gibbs walking to the elevator while Tony puts his hair back in place, "We'll continue this tonight, if you want to join us? We're celebrating Ziva's citizenship at a bar,"

"I'd love that,"

Gibbs comes back half an hour later with a fresh coffee. You can see on his face he’s clearly pissed but you decide not to do anything about it for now.

* * * * *

The rest of the day went smoothly. There was no big breakthrough in the case, for a moment you thought that the celebration might be canceled. But to everyone’s surprise, Gibbs and Fornell decide to call it a night. “We won’t be able to get anything done before tomorrow morning anyway,” Fornell says.

The NCIS team didn’t need much to start packing their things. As you’re putting your laptop in your bag, Abby, Jimmy and Ducky appear in the bullpen, “Celebration night!” Abby exclaims, “Gibbs, Fornell, you’re joining?”

“What are we celebrating?” Your boss asks.

“Ziva David, being officially a citizen of the United States of America!” Jimmy explains, wrapping his arm around Ziva’s shoulders.

Fornell looks over his shoulder, down to Gibbs. “You going?”

“Pass,”

Then, Fornell puts his eyes on you, “You?”

“Yup, Tony offered me to join. If anyone minds,”

“Of course not!” Abby happily grabs your arm and walks you to the elevator. You don’t have time to give one last look at Gibbs, as you’re all taking off to the bar.

Only Fornell and Gibbs remain in the bullpen. “You sure you don’t want to keep an eye on DiNozzo?” Fornell teases his best friend.

“Fornell, if you want to go, just--leave,”

“Fine, I’ll protect her myself,” he says, “Unless I get too drunk and don’t see them sneaking out to the bathroom,”

Gibbs growls before standing up, “I hate you,”

* * * * *

At the bar, you and the team got into a booth in the back. Of course, Tony made sure to be right next to you and Abby was on your other side. You all ordered your drinks and when the waiter brought them, you toasted, “To Ziva!” everyone says.

You have barely swallowed the first sip of the Champagne when you see Gibbs and Fornell entering the bar. Abby sees them too and calls their names. “I don’t know what you told him, Fornell, but I’m so glad to convince him to come,” Ziva confesses. It really means a lot to her that all of her team - her other family - is here to celebrate.

Even if he joined, Gibbs is being himself and doesn’t talk much with anyone, except some quick exchanges with Ducky. He’s sitting across the table from you, and you can see his eyes darkening as Tony whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle. He drinks his second bourbon in one swallow and goes to the counter to order another one. You excuse yourself to Tony, and join Gibbs.

“You okay?” you ask him, innocently.

“Perfect,” he mutters.

“Wanna spend the night at my place, tonight?” you whisper in his ears, gently nipping his lobe.

“Why don’t you ask DiNozzo?” he answers.

"Oh, you're jealous!" you exclaim with a chuckle, as the bartender puts the glass in front of Gibbs. His hand grips on the glass hard, his knuckles are turning white.

“Why would I be jealous? We’re not dating,”

This sends you off, you bit your bottom lip to avoid shouting in the middle of a bar. You take one deep breath to remain calm and answer, “Of course. I wonder what you’ve been doing for the past year, if not dating,”

Even with the dim light, Gibbs can see your cheeks turning red from anger. He shouldn’t have said this, because obviously, he has strong and deep feelings for you, but he hates to admit that he’s indeed...jealous. “Maybe I’ll indeed ask DiNozzo. Or maybe I’ll ask a stranger. Or--Or maybe, I’ll ask DiNozzo and a stranger,”

You’re about to leave him here when he grabs your wrist, ever so gently. You can see that his face had softened a bit. Then his hand moves from your wrist to your hand and his fingers intertwine with yours. Gibbs starts to walk away, taking you with him. He doesn’t say a word until he reaches his car. He opens the door for you, “Are we really sneaking out?” you ask.

“Just get in,” he orders, along with smack on your ass.

This gesture sends something right down to your core. You smile and get in his truck, shortly followed by him.

The parking lot is dark, the car is only facing trees and bushes. But you don’t have time to overthink what’s going on, as Gibbs’s lips crash on yours. He immediately asks for access with his tongue, which you happily grant him. One of his hands gets under your top, feeling your skin under his fingers. It keeps getting higher, until he cups one of your breasts and squeezes. You moan in his mouth, and your nails scratch on his scalp. He growls at the feeling, and quickly grabs your hips to make you sit on his lap. “You seriously want to do this in the car?” you ask, but it seems obvious as you can feel him getting hard.

“I want you to make yourself forgiven,”

His blue eyes are dark with lust. You know exactly what that means. You haven’t experienced the dominant side of Gibbs yet and god, is it turning you on. You can feel yourself getting soaking wet in your panties. You approach your lips to his to kiss him again but he only lets them brush. “Your mouth should be busy somewhere else,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” you agree and work on his belt.

You don’t know if he’s ever done something like this before, but his painful erection lets you know how turned on he is. You give him a few strokes, feeling some precum on your hand. He groans under your touch and then, you bend your head over to lick the head of his cock, tasting him. “Fuck!” he mutters. You play with the head for a moment before taking him inside your mouth.

As you blow him, Gibbs has one arm stretching over the seat and his other hand is settled in the back of your neck, guiding you. You can feel him grabbing your hair into his fist from time to time. “You’re so good at this, sweetheart,” he praises you and you hum in response, with his cock still inside your mouth. It sends shivers down his spine, and he bucks his hips, making his length go as deep as possible inside your throat. When he hits the back of your throat, Gibbs lets out such a huge moan, people in the bar may have heard him.

“Who does this mouth belong to?”

You relish him briefly, “You.” you answer.

“Good girl,” he growls. “Now, make me cum in that pretty mouth of yours,”

You go back to your oral ministrations and quickly, Gibbs is coming inside your mouth, shooting his load inside your throat, as your name leaves his lips in the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard. You couldn’t be any more turned on at this very moment. As he’s catching his breath, you make a big show of swallowing every drop of him.

Finally, he grabs the back of your neck a bit roughly to make you kiss him. He can taste himself on you and from the sound you’re making, he understands that you love that side of him. “I’m not done with you,” he says, brushing his lips against yours. “We’re going back inside, like nothing happened, but if you keep flirting with DiNozzo, or anyone else, I’ll deny you for such a long moment, you’ll beg me to shot you,”

You may be crazy, but this makes you want to piss him off a little more.

#jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #gibbs #tony dinozzo #tobias fornell #gibbs smut

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salazarslytherin · 3 years

Text

midnight rendezvous (b.w x y/n)

requested: yes! by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 [i love you arms your writing so uh anything w bill weasley. either smut, angst, fluff, etc. is fine, but could it be on the longer side. please and thank you, no pressure btw :)] send in your own request here

summary: where you and bill have a penchant for meeting in the night

part two here

🃛 masterlist

cw/tw: angst, smut AND fluff babes fem!reader, bill's kind of a dick for a part. sexual tension to the MAX doll. age difference (~6-7 years?) reader IS 18! jic anyone was worried. also i imply reader is short-ish? but in my mind bill is like 6’3-6’5 so he’s massive and like most people would be shorter than him

word count: 5.25k (so i heard u say ‘on the longer side’ and interpreted it as ‘i want a short novel’. hope this satisfies u doll, there'll be one or two?? more parts coming!!)

a/n: requested by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 . hope you like it! pls leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost if you did xx

☯︎ join tag list here

Being the best friend of the Weasley twins definitely had its perks. Spending summers at the Burrow, having a second family that was closer to you than your own, friendly banter that came along with the family.

However, there was an unexpected drawback that came with this.

A drawback by the name of Bill Weasley.

⚔︎

Although in the same year as the twins, you were a year older than Fred and George, meaning you had always felt a little more mature than the two pranksters.

Thus, you felt like you noticed things that the two of them never really noticed. Girls having crushes on them, boys being envious of them, the ways rumours would fly around about the three of you.

The main thing, however, that you felt the two of them didn't notice, was the way Bill treated you.

It wasn't that he'd always been like this. The first few years you'd known the man, he was very nice to you – familial and brotherly, much like the rest of the family had been to you.

However, sometime in fifth year, things changed.

⚔︎

You arrived at the Burrow with the twins for Christmas, ready to be welcomed by the family you'd come to call your own, but was left feeling hurt, weirdly hollow.

Every Weasley had welcomed you with open arms, except Bill. Harry, the only other non-Weasley around, was embraced heartily by the curse-breaker, but you were given a sharp nod, and nothing more.

Confused, you shook it off, moving to sit next to George, his arm wrapped around your waist as you snuggled into him. Fred landed on your other side, passing you a mug of hot cocoa as he landed a kiss on the top of your head, arm enveloping your shoulders with a tight squeeze.

Surrounded by the younger Weasleys as you watched Ginny, Ron and Harry play a game of Exploding Snap, you felt an intense gaze on you, looking up to see the four oldest Weasleys sat around the dining table, watching all of you.

You caught Bill's eyes, sending him a familiar smile, but was ignored as the man took a sip of his coffee, turning to look out the window instead.

Your hurt was short-lived as Fred leaned into whisper a soft quip into your ear, letting out a laugh, turning to relay the same quip to George.

The rest of the trip went similarly – every time you attempted to catch Bill's eye, to hold a proper conversation, he'd ignore you, or brush you off, pretending that he had something else to do.

The day all of you left the Burrow to go back to Hogwarts, Bill had even left the group before you could say goodbye to him, and you could only be left wondering, what did you do?

⚔︎

Now that you've graduated, you were relishing in the last summer you could spend in the Burrow as a teenager without the pressure of work hovering over you.

Determined to have the best time you possibly could with your 'family', your days were consumed by pranks with the twins, quidditch with the family, and helping Molly bake.

Yet, you still felt empty; a hole in the warm pit created by familial love, a hole marked with the name 'Bill Weasley'.

The cursebreaker was still actively avoiding you, for no known reason, and you stopped seeking out why a year ago. Instead, you sought to live your life with one less brother, one less family member to love.

Tossing and turning, you found yourself particularly restless one night. Not wanting to wake Fred, who was sleeping soundly in bed next to you, you got up, tiptoeing down to the kitchen to have a nice cool sip of water.

You'd taken to sleeping in the twins' room since the first holiday you were at the Burrow. Molly was against the idea at first of course, but was incapable of stopping the pranksters who managed to sneak you in night after night, insistent on having 'sleepovers' with you.

After the third night, Molly gave up, only giving you three a strict 'no funny business!' warning, before trudging back off to bed.

⚔︎

The dim lamplight from the kitchen illuminated just about enough for you to see your surroundings, having been around the Weasleys' long enough to know which boards to avoid so as to not have them creak and wake the family up.

However, what you hadn't taken into account was a body on the ground, hitting your foot into a blanketed torso, making you elicit a shriek, the unknown body on the ground letting out a muffled groan.

"What the fuck?"

You muttered a quick 'Lumos', pointing your wand at the person under the quilt, only for the fabric to be thrown aside, revealing a tousled Bill Weasley, sleep clouding his narrowed eyes as he massaged his abdominal with one hand, ruffling his hair with the other.

"Oh."

Realising that the man on the floor was, in fact, a Weasley, and not some thief who'd stolen into the house in the middle of the night, you dismissed the charm, lowering your wand and shifting awkwardly on your feet.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were there."

Throwing a curt apology at Bill, you moved off towards the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard above and wordlessly filling it up, intent on finishing your business as quickly as possible before heading back up to the twins.

"Pour me a cup?"

The deep voice startled you for a moment. At some point Bill had gotten up from his mound of pillows and now found himself stood behind you, his hand holding out a mug that had a 'B' painted on it, gesturing at the water jug you were holding.

Nodding curtly, you poured him his water, Bill thanking you before moving to lean against a counter, watching you from behind the rim of his mug.

"'m surprised you're down here."

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man in confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

He shrugged, downing the rest of his water before placing the mug down on the counter with a tad bit more strength than he needed. He stretched for a moment, arms pulled over his head to pull the sleep out of his eyes, shirt moving up with the movement to show off a slither of his toned stomach.

"You're always around the twins, never see you without 'em. Expected you to be, in their beds or something I don't know."

A protest spluttered from your throat, choking slightly on the water that you'd been drinking.

"I–what?"

The man lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

"Am I wrong? You've been in and out both their beds since you were firsties. I mean, it's not hard to guess what you're doing in there with 'em."

You huffed at the implications of Bill's words, putting your mug down with much of the same vigour as he had just now.

"First off, I'm an adult, and I can do what I please."

You were fuming, steam practically coming out your ears, and hearing the muttered 'clearly been an adult for a while' from Bill's lips didn't help.

"Second, even if I was sleeping with your brothers, which I am not, I don't understand why it'd be any of your business. It's not like we're friends or anything."

An odd, emotionless laugh came from Bill's lips, pushing off the counter to come stand over you. His tall stature forced you to stumble backwards, pressed against the wooden cabinets as he glared down at you.

"First off," Bill's deep voice was modulated up an octave, mocking your previous rebuttal.

"I am not saying your life is part of my concern. I'm concerned for my brothers."

A hand landed next to your head, pushing against the cabinet harshly.

"But second, you're practically a Weasley. It's my duty to look after you guys."

You laughed indignantly, looking away from the intense man to focus on his arm instead, as if studying the tattoos that covered his tanned frame.

"I'm sorry. It's your duty to look after me?"

You pushed him off of you, moving away with a huff, grabbing the two abandoned mugs to wash them with far too much tenacity, water splashing everywhere.

"Yes, that's what I said. I've known you since you were eleven – of course I have to watch over you. You're like family."

You rolled your eyes, giving up the facade of placidity as you left the mugs clattering in the sink, whipping around to face Bill.

"I'm like family? That's rich, William, truly rich."

Now it was your turn to advance towards the man, causing him to back up as your anger fueled you with energy, stomping dangerously close to his feet.

"If how you treat me is how you treat your family, I pity Molly for having you as a son."

Incoherent words left Bill's mouth in an attempt to argue further with you, but you didn't listen. Turning on your heel, you left the man in the kitchen, no longer concerning yourself with which steps to avoid as you stomped back to the twins' room, leaving Bill accompanied only by the dim light from the lamp, and the creaks coming from the floorboards.

⚔︎

After that infuriating night, it was no longer a 'hidden' fact that something was off between you and Bill.

While it had seemed that Bill used to be the one avidly avoiding you, the tables had quickly turned – you were now the prey ardently avoiding any encounters with your predator.

Any time Bill came into the room, you'd either leave, or place yourself as far away as humanly possible. During meals, you'd move yourself to sit next to Ginny, as opposed to in between the twins as you'd been sat for years, just so you no longer sat across from Bill. Even during quidditch, one of your favourite things to do with the whole family, you opted to sit out and stay in the twins' room or help Molly with the dishes, just to make sure you never had to interact with Bill.

Honestly, you weren't quite certain why the conversation with Bill had ticked you off so much. Maybe it was because he accused you of sleeping with your best friends, as if that was all you were good for. Maybe, it was because he had no right to insert himself in your life like that, to pretend like he cared about you in the first place.

It was clear he no longer wanted to be a part of your life when you were sixteen. You had no desire to welcome the curse-breaker back into your life now.

⚔︎

Three days after the midnight meeting with Bill, you found yourself restless again, unable to sleep.

George shifted slightly as you moved out of his bed, turning to cuddle with your now abandoned pillow as you slipped out of his grasp.

You decided to go for a quick midnight broom ride, hoping that the adrenaline rush and energy that you'd burn while flying would tire you out so you could finally fall asleep. A lot of the time you'd spent avoiding Bill turned into naps, which meant you were increasingly unable to fall asleep at night, disrupting your sleep schedule massively.

Cursing Bill under your breath, you creeped down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't be down there again. You didn't want to have to deal with the eldest Weasley again.

Thanking your lucky stars, you landed on the final step, noting that the first floor was empty. Hoping that the door wouldn't creak when you opened it, you ran towards the small shed out back, grabbing a random broom from it and got ready to fly.

"Y/N?"

You were already mounted on the broom and ready to kick off as that dreaded baritone resounded from the door.

You should have known you weren't that lucky.

Yelling a quick "Nope!", you kicked off and flew out towards the countryside, only looking behind you to see Bill standing in his sleeping pants, hands gesturing out at you in exasperation.

"Now how's that for some good ol' avoidance?"

⚔︎

Though you'd initially planned on flying only for a little bit, seeing Bill at the door really put a damper on your plans, making you decide to fly to a nearby watering hole the Weasleys used to bring you to.

Illuminated by the moonlight, you descended upon the grassy area, smiling at the way the water rippled in the soft night breeze.

Tranquility was what the scene spelt.

In a moment motivated by something you'd come to dub as 'Weasley Whims', i.e the reason the twins had gotten the three of you in trouble constantly, you decided to strip down to your underwear to take a dip in the cool water, abandoning your clothes and wand on a mossy rock nearby.

Taking a running leap, you threw yourself into the water, feeling, for the first time in three days, free. A laugh rippled the waters as you broke through the surface, swimming back over to the edge, only for the laugh to be stolen away as you noticed a shadowed figure land next to your broom.

Bill Weasley was here to ruin your night, yet again.

You let out a strangled scream of frustration as the man alighted from his broom, feet and torso bared to the moonlight.

Clearly, he, like you, had not bothered to dress properly for the impromptu flight.

"Why are you following me."

Your question held no semblance of curiosity, only frustration as you demanded an answer from the man. His answer did not come, only moving towards the water to kneel in front of it, looking down at you.

"Why are you running away from me?"

Wisps of his ginger hair fell forward, covering bits of his handsome face as the rest was carelessly thrown up into a short ponytail, clearly done to prevent his hair from falling into his face during the flight, a precaution that you'd forgotten to take.

"I could ask you the same. Only, it must be a bit harder to hide from someone when they're already hiding from you in the first place, hmm?"

You turned away from the man, diving back down into the depths of the watering hole to kick yourself over to the other side, wanting to do nothing more than swim away from the ginger, or maybe, have him leave you alone and fly back to the burrow, alone.

But of course, fate never let you have your way.

You turned around only to see the man had sat himself down cross-legged, body illuminated by the moonlight as it highlighted the tattoos decorating his forearm, the several scars that littered his chest a sharp white juxtaposing his tanned skin.

"I never ran away from you."

Your head fell back as you tread the water lightly, looking up instead to admire the stars that embellished the night sky, recalling fondly the astronomy classes you'd taken in the past two years as you focused on constellation after constellation, intent on ignoring the man in front of you, hoping your disregard would drive him away.

"Y/N, I'm talking to you."

The words drew a monotone chuckle from you, your eyes snapping to meet Bill's.

"Well that's a first."

Bill moved to stand up, and your heart jumped for a moment. Maybe he would finally leave you alone.

But yet again, luck never did seem to favour Y/N Y/L/N.

Instead of moving further away as you'd thought he would, Bill moved closer, stepping into the shallow of the watering hole, the water soaking the bottom of his pants.

Your eyes darted at the ripple of his abs with every movement, swallowing as your eyes darted to look anywhere else you could. You were not about to find this man attractive.

You could see him coming towards you in your peripherals, and moved back to face him, his pecs the only part of his torso above the water.

"You haven't spoken to me for almost two years, and now you've just got so much to say to me, huh?

Bill looked down into the water, nibbling on his lip as he looked back into your eyes, almost sheepish as he tried to answer.

"I–"

"You know how much that hurt?"

You swam closer towards him, your feet finding ground as you stood next to him, your shoulders bared to the world as you were no longer submerged.

"You were like family to me for almost five years, and then one day. You just fucking stopped. Stopped talking to me. Stopped joking around with me. For a while, you didn't even look at me!"

Your hands came up out of the water, gesturing wildly as you basically screamed at the man, Bill flinching slightly as the water splashed into his face, looking back down at the water again.

Ashamed.

"D'you know how fucked up that was? I had no clue what happened, why one of the people I considered family, one of my favourite people in the world, just fucking despised me all of a sudden."

Bill looked up at you in surprise at your words.

"And you know the worst fucking part?"

Your voice suddenly fell to a hush, almost a whisper as a tear welled in your eye, prompting you to shut them as your head tilted down, urging your breath to slow down.

"The worst part, the worst part was that I thought it was my fault, that it was something I'd done to drive you away. I blamed myself for ages, didn't know what I said, didn't know why you hated me."

"Didn't know why you'd never like me back."

The last part was said in a true whisper, barely audible despite the silent night.

Yet Bill still heard it, and his breath hitched in his throat, eyes searching your face as a tear escaped you, rolling down your cheek.

Unable to restrain himself, Bill's hand darted forward out, cooled by the waters you two found yourself in, a blatant contrast to the warm tear as the pad of his thumb wiped it away.

You flinched away from Bill, feeling vulnerable for the first time that night, coming to the sudden realisation that you were clad only in your underwear, your unintended confession drawing heat to your cheeks as you moved away from the man.

"I, I was afraid."

Bill's own confession halted your movements, making you turn back around to look up at him, confused.

"I–, how do I say this. I was ashamed of myself."

It was now Bill's turn to feel vulnerable, his unease making him shift in the water, the water rippling around the two of you at his movements.

"That winter when you came back here, when you turned sixteen, I started seeing you as more than family. I– I found you attractive, and I felt disgusted with myself."

You huffed, disbelieving of the words you were hearing.

"I'm being serious Y/N. You just, grew up over those few months, and just came back different, somehow. I felt like a predator, I was twenty-three! You were still a kid, and I, I just didn't know what to do anymore."

"I wasn't a kid!"

"Of course you were! You were still in school, I'd been working for five years, I couldn't live with myself feeling like that. I didn't know what to do, so I just, distanced myself. Hoped that the feelings would go away eventually, then I'd just, go back to being normal."

Your eyes scanned the ginger's face, searching for a speck of a lie, a pinch of deception but only found uncertainty, attraction and lust dusting the man's face.

"But you never stopped..."

Your breath stopped for a moment as your eyes met.

"Are you being serious?"

His breath fanned your face as both of you instinctively moved closer towards each other, more of your body exposed to the world as you came further out of the water.

"As serious as I could be Y/N."

Your breath was taken away as Bill leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours, strands of ginger hair falling to tickle your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

A breathless whisper fell from Bill's lips, prompting you to nod in assent, the man falling to capture your lips before you even finished the move.

Sparks flew in that moment, the man's lips gliding over yours as he stole your breath away. You pulled apart after a second, before your lips fell back together again, insatiable in your desire to taste each other.

Bill's tongue teased you, mouth falling open for his teeth to graze at your lower lip, making you gasp such that your lips fell open in the same way, his hand moving to cup your jaw. Taking advantage of your momentary shock, the ginger slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of you as you moaned into his lips, pressing your chest against his.

The water waded around you as Bill's left hand moved down your body, fitting snugly under your ass as he muttered a soft 'jump', which you obliged.

Your legs wrapped around the man's hips, Bill walking the two of you onto the soft grass, muttering a charm against your lips before placing you down.

Instead of feeling prickly blades of grass on your skin, a soft blanket had appeared, making you smile, pulling away from the man.

"Quite the romantic, Mr Weasley. Know how to treat a girl right don't you?"

A deep chuckle sounded from the man who hovered above you on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip at the sight of you.

"Only the best for my girl."

Your heart leapt at Bill’s words; were you his now?

Not wanting to dwell on it, to overthink this moment of passion, you pulled his lips back down onto yours.

His girl.

⚔︎

The moon hung high in the night sky as both your hands explored each other, frantic, as if it was your last day on Earth and you only had here and now to envelop yourselves in each other.

The pure animalistic need that pulsed through the two of you allowed no time for foreplay, fingers hooking into the soaking fabrics that clung to both of you.

“Can I?”

Bill fingered the waistband of your underwear, thumb brushing your hip bone with motions feather light, wildly disparate from the way his lips devoured yours hungrily.

One act designed to ruin you, the other almost afraid he’d break you.

“Yes, I need you.”

You deigned to show him just how much by hooking your own fingers into his waistband, soaked pajama pants pulled away to reveal his boxers, clinging to his muscular frame.

Bill responded by undressing you with much of the same vigour, moving to pull your underwear down to your ankles, his pants in very much the same state, gazing down at your soaked private with lust clouding his vision.

“Next time,” he breathed out onto your glistening lips, “I’ll make you cum with just my tongue.”

Your breath hitched at his words, no, his promise, of a next time as Bill made his way back up your body, peppering kisses on your exposed skin, his hard-on grinding against your leg as he moved up.

The cursebreaker’s deft hands unhooked your bra expertly, sucking in a breath as your pert nipples were revealed to him.

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

Bill moved to unclothe himself fully, before you stopped his movements, his hands already pulling at the waistband around his hips.

“May, may I?”

He nodded as you sat up, eyes glazed as he studied your body, memorising the way your breasts glistened in the moonlight. He would make it his mission to mark them, to show anyone who came near you that you were no one’s, but his.

You hooked your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down to his thighs at an almost agonising pace as every part of Bill was unveiled to you, standing proudly in the light.

“Are you... a virgin?”

The man above you asked as it dawned upon him. He was really about to have the girl he’d been craving for.

“No, I’m not.”

His jaw clenched at your admission, the thought of someone else’s hands on you ticking him off, before pushing it away.

It didn’t matter. You were with him now.

He nodded, coming back down to kiss you as one hand braced him by your head, the other reaching down to pump himself slowly.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, eyes falling closed as you immerse yourself in him.

Bill’s knee nudged your thighs apart, moving himself so he was lined up against you, hand brushing his cock up and down your lips, causing both of you to shudder.

His head dipped into you, your tight heat causing him to hiss, pausing for a moment to savour the feeling before pushing himself in fully, stopping only once he’d bottomed out.

“Are y’okay?”

You bit your lower lip as Bill moved away from you to scan your face for discomfort or pain. His girth, while not quite painful was definitely bordering on pain, your walls stretching as he filled you entirely.

“Yes, just, one second.”

Your hands gripped his neck, lacing your fingers through the tresses of his hair as you adjusted around him. As the pain receded, you nodded, a silent signal for the man to move.

He carefully pulled out of you, then pushed back in slowly, hands landing by your head to brace himself, testing the waters whilst both of you moaned at the feeling.

“Faster.”

Bill obliged, moving to thrust in and out of you at increasing speeds with each movement. His hips snapped against yours at a speed that could only be described as vicious, eliciting sounds that defiled the tranquil nature you were surrounded by.

You were breathless as the man thrusted in and out of you, his movements only capable of drawing pants and whimpers from your mouth, the activity rendering you a simpleton who knew only two words - ‘Bill’ and ‘please’.

Your climax soon drew close, a coil tightening with his every sound and every move, your body notifying the man above you by the clench of your walls around him, the motion drawing him closer to his own orgasm.

“Are you close baby?”

A nod was all you managed as you threw your head back, Bill’s tip brushing against your g-spot edging you even closer to your precipice.

One of Bill’s hands moved down your body, landing on the bundle of nerves above where the two of you met, rubbing figure eights onto you, making you let out a gasp of surprise as the older man helped you move closer to your orgasm.

His movements didn’t falter as your moans grew louder, seeming instead encouraged by the promise of your climax, your moans growing loud and unabashed.

Each pant of his name made the man groan in return, moving both his fingers and his hips so ferociously that your breasts bounced with each thrust, your back sure to be red and chafed in the morning from the friction against the blanket.

But you didn’t care - the only thoughts you were capable of manifesting was how good it felt to have Bill inside you, how this was the one thing you’d ever needed to feel full, how he never stopped in his stimulation, the way his mouth felt on your nipples - sucking on the skin of your breasts, a reminder that would last of this fleeting night.

As Bill stimulated you with his cock, his fingers, his mouth, you couldn’t hold it in any longer - and you could tell Bill was reaching his breaking point as well - you let out a moan that would awaken the sleeping birds in the tree nearby, a scream of “Bill” that would leave the twins wondering why your voice was hoarse in the morning left you, legs trembling as you released around the man.

Yet he still never relented.

As you rode out your orgasm, your cunt throbbing, Bill never faltered in his actions, hips thrusting into you as he bit into your neck softly, intent on marking you for all to see as his cock twitched inside of you.

With a moan that you could only describe as sinful, yet angelic, a sound that would haunt your dreams and bless your nightmares, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, Bill came into you. Hot stripes of white liquid coating your walls while his thrusts slowed to a stop.

Getting up on trembling hands, Bill hovered above you, exiting you in a slow movement that had you whimpering at the sudden emptiness, your eyes still shut from your post-orgasmic bliss.

Lips pressed onto your forehead, as if Bill was savouring something he didn’t want to lose.

Something you didn’t want to lose either.

⚔︎

The flight back to the Burrow was silent, the two of you side by side as you flew through the wilderness of Ottery St. Catchpole.

When you landed, you looked out onto the nature around you, Bill landing almost immediately after you.

In the distance, you could see the sun readying to rise in the East, colours bleeding into the sky that had been pitch dark save for the spattered stars hours ago.

“Did you regret that?”

The man standing beside you asked after a moment of silence, not daring to meet your eyes as he appeared vulnerable, afraid, feigning an interest in the rising sun.

His muscular arm was what you were faced with as you turned towards him, his tall stature casting a shadow over you. You eyed the red marks you’d left on him, the little reminders scattered on his shoulders and back.

“No. Did you?”

The cursebreaker turned to face you, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched you, scanning your face for the umpteenth time that night.

“Of course not.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, drawing Bill’s gaze down towards them, a small smile telling you he was admiring the slowly darkening marks he’d left on you.

“Then why’d you assume I would’ve?”

He caught his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing on it absentmindedly as he shrugged.

“I dunno. Just assumed you wouldn’t have wanted that with an older man or somethin’, I s’just worried, s’all.”

You inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh as you reached out towards the man, cupping a hand on either side of his chiseled jaw, making him look into your eyes.

“Bill, that was my decision to make. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I wouldn’t’ve done it. It’s not your place to decide for me whether I wanted it.”

You leaned in to capture his lips in yours; this time deepening the kiss on your terms, slipping your tongue into his mouth and savouring his taste.

Cinnamon, with a hint of mint and tobacco.

You pulled away, tracing your lips to the sweet spot under his ear, sucking softly before turning to whisper in his ear.

“I wanted it, and I’ve wanted you for longer than you could have known.”

part two out now x

#mine #writing #request #bill weasley #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley angst #bill weasley smut #bill weasley fluff #harry potter fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter angst #harry potter smut #bill weasley imagine #hp angst #hp imagine #hp fluff #hp smut

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Seven minutes in Heaven with Physics Major Levi

author note :: i lost the ask but anon i do not know what this is. reading it sounded better in my head but physics major levi with reader who likes him is that a good description???? HM ANYWAY enjoy it’s not too great i’ve been revising nonstop for exams but i might as well have finished this off for the anon who requested it :-)

word count :: 2.5k probably... hm who knows maybe 3k

when you and levi become friends it’s definitely unexpected to say the least. everyone is naturally very confused by the peculiar pairing. levi doesn’t really... go out of his way to befriend anyone really??? so for him to approach you in the middle of the library and start talking about how he noticed you shared a class together was out of the ordinary

the flow of the conversation is a little awkward at first, you’re revising for a final exam and don’t really appreciate the disruption but you’re not confident enough to tell him to leave.

at one point an awkward silence drifts between the two of you until he points out you’ve completely RUINED your notes and have been looking over the wrong lectures for the up and coming physics exam

later on into the night levi’s stood sighing next to you. he tells you to take your pick from the pot noodle section — “hey, i know we literally just met but i’m telling you a chicken pot noodle is gonna make you feel better.”

you’re so distraught that he has to pick it up for you and pay

and that is how you and levi become friends !!!

if it’s of any relevance yes you passed the final (all because of levi giving you his organised binder full of notes and telling you to make use of it)

you know it just sorta happens but through all of the all nighters you’ve pulled with levi by your side you become used to his presence nearby. in fact most of the the time it’s difficult to even find you anywhere without him. you’re both practically joined at the hip

levi’s pretty protective of you, hates the whole party scene but is willing to tag along if you’re going. at first you think it’s because he feels more comfortable stepping out of his comfort zone if you’re there with him but his intentions become more evident later on

any time someone makes you uncomfortable he’s by your side, if you happen to get into any sort of trouble he’s the person people call to help you because who else knows you the way levi does?

currently you and levi are at another party, you tend to keep to yourself and only ever talk to your close friends. it’s also not like you to partake in games, you’re far too nervous to play anything like seven minutes in heaven but for some reason you find yourself wanting to take part JUST this once

maybe it’s the fear of never making fun memories to tell your future children about

then again why on earth would you be telling your children about your experience kissing a random man in a closet??

either way, participating shouldn’t hurt!!! you’ve got to loosen up a little!!!

levi’s a little surprised you agree to play nevertheless he still sits next to you, the both of you have your legs crossed on the floor, your knees are touching and you aren’t sure if he feels the same warm sensation that you feel. it bubbles in the pit of your stomach – you feel oddly content

“levi!! anyone you want the bottle to land on ???” hange a mutual friend of yours leans in handing him the glass bottle

levi gives the bottle a disgusted look before his gaze flicks over to you.

“i’m only here because of y/n, i ‘m not playing.”

that doesn’t satisfy hange and they begin to groan complaining that he can’t stay unless he spins the bottle

“look you don’t have to do anything in the closet, okay??” hange’s begging him at this point, he’s still holding up pretty well and for some reason you’re disappointed. it’s almost like you hoped he’d spin the bottle just so it would land on you

levi takes notice of your frown and guesses you want him to be included, he isn’t one for games like these but if it’ll make you happy so be it. there’s still the chance it’ll land on you and his thought process falters for a second.

he thinks he really wouldn’t mind if the bottle landed on you and so he ends up nodding and agreeing to play.

anyway it’s not as if he isn’t guilty of imagining the two of you being a little more than friends

ok wait!!!! it’s completely innocent HE SWEARS!!!!

he’s never told you about it but sometimes he thinks if he was a little more straightforward that day at the library and asked for your number MAYBE just MAYBE his intentions would be clearer and he wouldn’t be stuck in the friend zone for this long

he should’ve used a stupid physics pick up line he knows you love those

something like – “i’m attracted to you more than an electron’s attracted to a proton.”

or maybe — “i’d fall for you even in the absence of gravity”

ok... maybe you wouldn’t have got that one considering you were revising the wrong content and probably forgot about that topic

he can’t imagine himself saying those things but if it would make you finally see him as a potential love interest and not a best friend he wouldn’t mind having to force it out

but still it’s not really a secret that levi has a soft spot for you, literally everyone can see it. when has he ever gone out of his way to save a seat for anyone? when has he ever willingly gone to a party? WHEN has levi actually let someone lay their head on his shoulder??

he only ever let’s you do that stuff

let’s actually discuss the head on his shoulder thing!!!

whenever finals approach you’re always sucked in by huge amounts of work and barely get to sleep, levi’s always hovering over your shoulder reminding you to catch a few hours but of course you don’t listen. you think you’ll be just fine if you rely on an energy drink and two hours of sleep to get by

but levi knows you better than you know yourself. it’s hour seven into the day and you’re already dozing off in your seat. slowly but gradually your head tilts forward. levi’s sitting across you contemplating whether or not he should prop your head back up like a nice friend would or if he should wait for you to smack your forehead right into the solid oak table.

he ends up making his decision last minute, your head flies towards the table and if it were anyone else he’d just let them jolt awake from the harsh impact but it’s you and his body won’t let him ignore you.

on reflex his hand flies out and in the matter of a split second he’s holding your head back. he’s surprised you haven’t woken up and he’s even more surprised he bothered to help you

before that happens levi knows he likes you, he knows he enjoys your company, he’s aware you make him happy but he thinks he’s willing to just be friends with you because clearly you don’t want to pursue anything.

you haven’t even flirted with him before aside from the witty “you remind me of an exothermic reaction” joke that you made one time

oh and there’s also the additional fact that you had a boyfriend up until quite recently so he’s sure you don’t see him romantically

honestly he’s fine with not dating you but something about seeing you overwork yourself like that has him simmering in anger. if he were your boyfriend he would have forced you into bed whether you liked it or not

if he were your boyfriend he’d never break up with you because he “found someone better.” he can’t even manage to imagine anyone better than you.

levi shuffles into the seat next to yours and places your head onto his shoulder. a few students shoot him questioning looks but the deadly glare he sends back is enough to deter them from coming any closer

it’s a little funny actually, by the time you wake up you’re rubbing at your eyes, you don’t even notice how close levi is to you until his hot breath fans across your neck. it seems like he’s dozed off whilst trying to make notes on fluid dynamics

wait

levi. right. next. to. your. neck.

should you move????

no, he might wake up he barely sleeps and you don’t want to mess up his schedule even more

that day you choose to drift off back to sleep as if you never woke up to his breath against your neck.

“OHHHH LEVI LANDED ON Y/N????”

your head shoots up NOW you’ve completely been dragged away from your thoughts.

“lucky for you both. guess you won’t have to do anything and stand there for seven minutes. told ya levi there was nothing to worry about B-)”

hange without warning pulls you both up by your arms, you’ve yet to see levi’s reaction, you’re too stunned to have noticed his slack jaw or wide eyes

“HAVE FUN!”

and with that said and done you and levi are shoved into the cleaning closet

“well, i’m glad it landed on you. i won’t have to do anything.” levi seems happy as can be, you don’t really know why but it stings a little

he doesn’t even seem to stop for a second to wonder if you’d maybe want to do anything

are you just not his type ????

hange once told you levi liked organised people and well,, you’re anything but organised. you’d probably pass out from the work load of your physics lectures if not for levi always helping you out

scowling to yourself you try to ignore just how awkward the situation is until levi plops down on the floor in front of you

“you okay?” he asks looking genuinely concerned

“i- yeah i’m good.”

your eyes dart away trying to look at anything but him. you can’t deny he looks good today, you actually helped him slick his hair back - the entire time he complained about the hair gel feeling weird but he looks great and now you can’t even stare at him for more than a second

“i’m guessing you’d have preferred if the bottle landed on someone else.”

leaning forward without even noticing it you aggressively deny what he says. “NO!!! i like being stuck here with you.”

levi looks stunned by your outburst but nods “oh, did you feel pressured to join the game? we can leave if you want—”

“no, no i– you aren’t– oh god i mean, look. i can explain– do i need to explain???”

completely choking up in front of him and sputtering before slamming your lips shut and saying absolutely nothing is probably one of the most awkward things you’ve done in your ENTIRE existence

levi reaches out for your knee, something that’s usually seen as him being friendly only feels intimate tonight. his thumb strokes comforting circles into your skin. the situation doesn’t make it any better, essentially you’re meant to be making out with him right now

“is something bothering you?”

there it is again. that look. he only seems more concerned than before and you hate yourself for not even thinking about your friendship before you open your mouth.

“do you not want to kiss me because we’re best friends or is it something else?”

there it is. you’ve said it.

you see levi’s face contort from a mix of confusion to what looks like disgust then shock. screwing your eyes shut you know you’ve ruined everything now. he’s never going to speak to you, never going to approach you again. you’re mentally preparing for him to ditch you at this party right here right now

but then you notice his hand still steadily placed on your knee, he’s now stopped with the circles, his grip is bruising

“do you want me to kiss you?”

his question isn’t really expected, it helps you find the courage to look your best friend in the eye.

it’s pretty dark but you can still make out the familiar shadows of his face. the butterflies rush up from your stomach all the way to your throat.

mild regret fills you, usually his curtains obscure his piercing gaze but the way you’ve styled his hair gives him a better view of you, there’s nowhere for you to hide

not even stopping to think about the possibility of him teasing you right now, all you care about is telling him the truth. you’ve come all the way here you may as well finish off what you’ve started

“would you be mad if i said i’d like it if you did?”

levi doesn’t need any more confirmation than that, he swoops in yanking you by your waist. his knees are still pressed against the floor and so you find yourself leaning down into his mouth and craning your neck downwards

his chest is completely pressed against yours. the drumming of your heart is so loud you feel self conscious but levi’s soft lips moving against yours distract you from that

not even ten seconds in and you feel out of breathe but not in an overwhelming way. levi’s pace isn’t at all what you imagined it to be like. he’s soft and slow yet calloused and rough around the edges, some how he still manages to make the kiss sweet

his left hand leisurely travels to the small of your back, the other hand now caresses your cheek. his fingertips are anything but soft but the way he handles you is tender and endearingly delicate.

you smile into the kiss and almost instantly levi’s lips tug upwards too. his take on seven minutes in heaven is quite easily the most romantic thing you’ve been subjected to. instead of a passionate make out you’ve been given a honeyed introduction to a new side of him

the kiss ends much quicker than you anticipate, you open your mouth to whine and convince levi that the two of you should still have a solid minute left before hange returns but he presses his index finger against your lips

“later. i promise.” his voice is heavy and if his blushed cheeks are anything to go by he’s thoroughly enjoyed your session together

at his reassurance you comply and take the time to have a better look at him

his lips are wet – some of your lip gloss has clearly stuck to him. his hair isn’t as well styled as it was before, seeing him like this makes you feel a surge of confidence. you know you did that to him.

so... what is someone to do with a sudden boost in confidence?

hit your new possible love interest with a pick up line :-) !!!

“heyyy so i know the spring constant of my mattress, would you be interested in taking some data with me?”

slapping your shoulder lightly he’s yet to gain his composure back, levi’s genuinely out of breathe now trying to steady himself and your comment doesn’t do him any favours that’s for sure

“my god you have no sham–”

without warning the door to your left swings open you and levi flinch trying to scramble away from eachother only to fail, hange marches in before stopping dead in their tracks.

all they see is levi knelt in front of you, hair disheveled huffing like his life depends on it

then their focus shifts to you, you’re sure some of your makeup has smudged and the entire scenario looks suspicious

levi seems as if he’s about to warn hange to not tell anyone and keep this a secret for now but they sprint away before any of you have the opportunity to ask for some privacy

not even ten seconds later a collision can be heard alongside a series of thuds and then hange’s yelling towards the end of the hallway “GUYS??? THEY ACTUALLY DID IT???”

for some reason the cheers coming from the living room warm your heart

you guess your friends figured out the direction of your relationship long before you and levi did :-)

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