#been years since I visited so being able to catch up was great | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rauspberries · 4 months ago

Text

Hard Day's Work

summary: In which you decide to visit the firehouse for some help and end up walking out with a boyfriend... kind of.

tags: evan buckley x fem!reader, fake dating (kinda), season one evan buckley, evan buckley is a FLIRT

Part two of What a Feeling, could be a stand-alone if you want. WC: 2k+

“Can you mount a TV?”

You hadn’t expected Buck to say yes. You definitely hadn’t expected him to excitedly nod his head, handing over his phone for you to put your number in so that he could visit your apartment after shift. He had apologized profusely for not being able to do it right that moment, claiming that Captain Nash had already been getting on to him for disappearing during shift and he didn’t want to put himself in more hot water. Not even for his fake girlfriend, he had remarked with a playful smirk and a wink that had almost melted you into a puddle right then and there.

Now, you paced in your kitchen, thankful that you had cleaned the entire place before you had lumbered your way over to the 118. The last thing your racing, nervous heart needed was running around your apartment to quickly pick up the laundry you had scattered about and the dishes you had left in the sink.

The time between getting home and the end of Buck’s shift seemed like forever and even longer. You moved from the kitchen counter to your bathroom floor to the living room couch, doom-scrolling on your phone to try and distract your mind. You went from the opinion that this was stupid, you should text and cancel to the daydreaming of what this could become. A handsome firefighter in your apartment, doing housework that you needed…

It was a scene out of one of the romance novels you tended to read.

You were brought out of your dumb dream by a few, hestiant knocks on your door, immediately lifting your head. Your heart started thumping against your rib cage again, the same queasy waves of butterflies that had originally sprouted when you got home coming back in full force. Your hands shake as you wipe them on your jeans, getting off of the couch and making your way towards the door.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you run your fingers through your hair once more before pulling the door open, eyes widening as you come face-to-face with Buck’s fist. He had been in the midst of knocking again due to your hesitance to open the door, you notice.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I-I thought you maybe hadn’t heard my knocking, you know, since it was kinda quiet the first time. Uhm.” Buck clears his throat, a soft silence hanging in the air before he raises his arm, the toolbox in his hand clunking at the movement. “I brought my own tools. Didn’t know if you had your own or not. I had to stop by the hardware store for a few things, like a hammer, a drill… Well, honestly, all of it, but it’s okay.”

He winces at the way he had been rambling, his tongue suddenly feeling heavy in his mouth. He had talked too much. He tended to do that when he was nervous.

You let out a soft laugh, holding the door open a bit wider as you step to the side. You’re glad to see that this situation is just as awkward for him as it is for you. It makes your heartbeat a little bit slower. “Would you like to come in?”

Buck rolls his lips into his mouth to keep himself from speaking any more, nodding as he steps into your apartment. His cerulean eyes take a wide glance around everything, making you feel like you had just split your chest open and revealed everything to him.

You look around just as he does, wondering what he thinks when he sees your blue couch, so out of place against the white wall it sat against. You deliberate if he thinks the decorative pillows you’ve collected over the years are excessive, or if he’s internally laughing about the stuffed animals that perch in their own respective spots. You almost feel embarrassed by the posters on the wall, the memorabilia from posters and fake street signs covering every inch, until you realize that it’s just a great way for him to get to know you without going through all of the chitchat.

After his initial survey is over, he turns towards you, a ghost of a grin playing on his lips. “I’m assuming the TV you want put up is the one sitting on the box?”

A groan leaves your lips at the idea of how silly it looks, letting the ball of your hand rub into your eye. “That’s the one. And the only one, I promise. Living alone, I only need a TV in my living room, although it does end up with me sleeping on the couch more often than not.”

Buck’s chest rumbles with a low laugh as he steps forward, setting his toolbox on the ground and unlocking it. “It does look like a very comfortable couch. It has a lot of friends on it, too.” The tease falls off of his tongue effortlessly, his eyes finding your face to check and make sure it didn’t pinch a nerve.

Instead, you just laugh, shaking your head as you move into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Don’t people usually give lemonade to construction workers?” You mumble out loud, opening your fridge and peering into it. Again, you’re grateful for your productivity earlier in the day as you eye the fullness of it.

Another chuckle comes from the man behind you, the sound of a drill whirring following. “Are you calling me a construction worker?” He jokes, the light-heartedness having eased the tension of a first meeting.

“Shut up,” you retort. Pulling the gallon of raspberry lemonade you had stored in the fridge, you pour it into two of your nicest glasses, shutting the cabinet quickly so that he couldn’t even attempt to get a glance at all of the funny cups you had collected.

You carry the glasses around the island just as Buck finishes drilling the mounting bracket into the wall, working a lot quicker than you thought he would. A pang of disappointment hits you directly in the chest at the idea of him leaving both your apartment and your life way too soon.

“Does this look right?” He asks, looking over at you questioningly before back at the mount. “Even? Is it where you want it? I can move it and fill in the holes with spackle if it’s not right, you just have to let me know.” The worry in his tone has you grinning, letting your mind wander to the incredulous idea that he wanted to come back and do more stuff for you, just to see you again.

Handing him his glass, you shake your head. “It looks fine, Buck. As long as I can see my TV from my couch, I really do not mind where it is,” you add. You look up at him with a smile, heart jolting as his lips pull into a handsome smile.

He breaks the eye contact he had with you as he steps towards the island, setting down his glass before rolling up his sleeve. You admire the tattoos among his forearms as he talks, only to shake your head when you realize you haven’t registered a single thing he said. “Huh?”

Buck laughs knowingly, shaking his head. “I said, will you help me lift? As much as I’d love to do it all by myself so you could sit yourself comfortably on the couch, I can’t hold the whole thing on my own.” He quirks a brow, watching you closely.

You nod dumbly as you set your drink down, rolling up the sleeves on your sweater. “I’m able to do some physical work by myself, I guess.” You groan playfully, crouching down to grab the bottom corner of your TV.

As soon as Buck has his hands on the other side, he counts down from three, both of you lifting until the back of the TV is aligned with the mount he had already drilled into the wall. You hold it silently as he secures it to the mount, only letting go once he gives you a soft nod.

Both of you step back as soon as you confirm that it's sturdy on the wall, hands on your hips as you take it in. Buck had gotten it right the first try. The TV was level, not even slightly dipping on the side, and it hung perfectly fine on her wall.

Turning to face him, you give him a grin. “We did it.”

“We? Are you sure?” Buck teases, crossing his arms over his chest. You swear he does it just to taunt you, your eyelids fluttering as you look down before immediately looking right back up at his eyes.

“I gave you the lemonade,” you retort playfully. You gesture at the cups on your island, brow quirking in a dare for him to challenge you.

He doesn’t, opting with giving you a playful roll of his eyes. Another soft silence falls over the both of you, neither one wanting to say the words that’d end your time together. It almost makes you want to start breaking stuff, just to ask him to fix it and stay a bit longer so you could pick his brain about everything that was Evan Buckley.

Buck breaks the silence with a slightly sheepish grin, shoving his hands in his pockets as he faces you. “I guess that’s it. Unless you have anything else you need help with.” The last bit comes out as a slight purr as he takes a step forward, invading your space as his cologne washes over you. It smells like man, all woodsy and absolutely alluring, especially when it's paired with the way he looks directly into your eyes, staring into your soul.

Unfortunately, you cannot come up with an excuse to keep him there. You shake your head in disappointment, a frown pulling at your lips. “I don’t think so.”

A soft hum of discontent leaves his lips as he somehow gets even closer, his chest just an inch from yours. “That’s a shame.”

“Why?” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, the question meek in tone. Something about the way he loomed over you, all six foot two of him, was intimidating, but not in a way that scared you. It was exciting, it was fun. Directness from Buck was frightening, in a way that caused a shiver to travel up your spine. Goosebumps covered your arms so fast that you quickly moved to pull your sleeves back down.

You had never been one to flirt. Men usually came to you, even if they tended to be grimey and gross. Even with that, all it took was a good smile, a few well-timed words and boom. You had ‘em right where you wanted them. But with Buck, it was a game. It was equal attraction, not an ounce more on his side than on yours. It was a competition – who could break first.

His arm raised slowly, fingertips trailing along the back of your hand until he finally cradled your fingers in his palm. “I’d love to spend more time with you,” he admitted. The flirty tone in his voice has your chin tilting up towards him subconsciously, although you don’t have time to feel embarrassed about it. You notice that his own head is tilting down towards yours, his nose skirting against yours tauntingly. “I think I just thought of something you could fix. I can’t handle it myself.” You tease, your lips tilting up at the corners in a smile. He urges you on with a raise of his eyebrows, your smile turning into a pout. “My lips. They hurt.” You feel childish saying it, but you brush off the sheepishness as it works.

Buck chuckles quietly, raising his hand and sliding it along your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he cups the back of it. “I can fix that, I think.” His grip tightens as he angles your head back more, making it easy for him to press his lips against yours, dainty and gentle.

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #x reader #fanfic #evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley fanfiction #eddie diaz x reader #fanfiction #911 #911 fanfic #911 fanfiction #evan buckley x fem!reader #eddie diaz x fem!reader

212 notes · View notes

kittenintheden · 1 year ago

Text

Ethics Review

Dave Matthews voice: I DID IT

Tav (reader) and Astarion pay his old office at the Courts a visit in the middle of the night for funsies and things get spicy.

aka it's the switchy bitchy magistrate roleplay fic

Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Pairing: Astarion/reader (Tav) Content: 18+, light BDSM elements, sexual roleplay, bitches be switches, dirty talk, spanking, orgasm denial, light edgeplay, oral sex, PIV sex (AFAB reader, not gendered)

AO3 Link

It’s late, but then, it’s always late when you’re out with Astarion these days. By necessity, mostly, but also because it’s the best time for the pair of you to get up to your more unsavory plans without catching the watchful eye of the newly-reformed Fist.

“Where are you taking me?” you laugh as you follow him through a series of dark alleys. “This better not end with me having to send for Gale to get your hand out of another magicked jar.”

“Never going to let me live that down, are you?” He looks over his shoulder and gives you an affectionate smirk.

“Not ever.”

Astarion peers around the corner of a brown brick building, checking that the coast is clear. To you, he says, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving soul.”

“Ah, yes,” you agree, wrapping your arms around him from behind and nuzzling his neck. “Two of your most obvious and accurate qualities.”

He chuckles. “We’re almost there. Come on.”

A labyrinthine dozen alleyways later, you’re deposited in an open square, quiet and still. The cobblestones are dark with recent rain, sending their petrichor scent into the air. As you follow Astarion out into the space, you realize where you are. It’s the Courthouse District of the Lower City, where people are tried and held for petty crimes that aren’t suitable for Wyrm’s Rock.

You huff a laugh through your nose and look over at your partner with a raised eyebrow. “Did you need to tell me something? Have a court date you forgot to mention?”

“Hush,” he playfully scolds you, holding a finger up to his lips. “Let me think a moment.”

He peers up at a particular building on the square and furrows his brow, closing his eyes and moving his hands through the air. You fold your arms and watch as he moves his fingers like he’s following a path only he can see, turning corners and raising level by level. At last, he opens his eyes, and points at window on the third floor, two in from the corner.

“That one,” he says.

“That one what?” you prompt.

He grins devilishly. “That…” he points again. “... is my old office. I thought we might pay it a visit.”

“To what end?” you laugh.

“What can I say, I’m feeling a touch nostalgic these days.” He keeps his eye on the window and beckons you to follow closer to the building. “Something about my old haunts is calling to me.”

Behind where he can’t see, you pay him an affectionate smile. In the last year or so since the fall of the Nether Brain, you’ve seen the city rebuilt and gone on your fair share of adventures and quests, always searching for some way to give Astarion back the sunlight you promised him. No luck yet, but there have been promising leads here and there. It’s not a lost cause. Not yet.

The last few months in particular have seen certain changes in your lover. The terror and fear he carried for so long clung to him like a shadow, and ever so slowly it’s beginning to lift. His laugh is more present than before, more real. The intimate moments you share are filled with trust and care, even as you get more comfortable pushing a few boundaries here and there.

Most of all, he’s been remembering. Not everything. There are parts of his past forever lost to him, written over by more years of torment than he ever had of life. But there’ve been flashes every now and again of who he used to be. Some of them he likes, some he loathes. He doesn’t always talk about it, but you know being able to pick up a piece once in a while has meant a great deal to him.

So you follow along with whatever little game he has planned.

He walks along the building, scanning the brick for footholds. Just as he puts his hand on a storm drain and tenses to leap, you halt him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks back at you, you flick your eyes up toward the window.

“Three up, two in from then end?” you ask.

He nods.

“Allow me, love.”

You hold up your hand and cobalt magic pools in your palm, forming into a sphere. You send it up above you, the arcane eye floating until it finds the correct window before it slips inside. You blink, your own eyes glowing blue as you use your magic to scan the room. It’s certainly an office of some sort.

Astarion takes your hand when you hold it out for him and instantly you’re transported inside the office thanks to a handy little dimensional door spell you picked up on one of your many adventures. You wave away the arcane eye and give Astarion a wink.

He smirks and shakes his head at you. “Take all of the fun out of the thing, why don’t you,” he says through his smile. “Suppose I’ll have to make do with checking that the place isn’t alarmed. Alas.”

The place is, indeed, alarmed. Astarion manages to disarm two common magic wires and one trickier sending stone scattered throughout the room. You reach out through the Weave for any other whispers of magic. Some artifacts and lightly magical office supplies. Nothing worrisome.

Once you’re both satisfied that you won’t end up immediately arrested, Astarion moves to the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back. You’re quiet as he scans the walls, turning in a slow circle as he takes everything in. His fangs flash as he gives a quiet laugh.

“The layout is different, and the color,” he says. “But yes, this is the place.” He furrows his brow slightly and holds out his hands, eyes on the floor. “I… worked here. Me. A magistrate.” His eyes find you and his smile widens. “It was a lie for so much longer than it was a reality. But it was a reality, once upon a time.”

“I’m surprised,” you say, folding your arms and nonchalantly stepping closer. “The way you spoke and dressed when we first met, I thought you must’ve been an Upper City fancy defending-the-powerful type.”

Astarion clicks his tongue at you. “Now, don’t be judgmental. That’s my job.” He waves a hand through the air. “I was quite young in my career, but I was working my way up. All the way to the third floor, thank you.”

You come in to wrap your arms around his waist and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Genuinely.”

He spreads his fingers over your forearm, pressing his lips to your hair. “Thank you. That’s always nice to hear.” He clears his throat and removes your arms, backing away from you with a toss of his head. “But don’t be too proud. I wasn’t exactly a… what’s the term? Model citizen.”

Astarion begins to walk around the small table with four chairs set in the center of the room.

“Oh?” you say, walking around the other side to mirror him. “Were you terribly corrupt?”

He pauses and tilts his head, shrugging. “‘Terribly’ is such a strong word, isn’t it? Lets just say I may have been known to, ah… sway the odds in my favor.”

You stop and look across the table at him. “What do magistrates even do, exactly? What did you do, specifically?”

“An absolutely stupid amount of paperwork, as I recall,” he says. “At least, I certainly remember hating every scrap that came across the desk. Meting out appropriate punishment for any minor and petty crime you can think of, most of them horrifically boring. But…” He leans over the table and holds up a finger. “... sometimes I got to conduct interviews to determine if crime was worthy of Wyrm’s Rock, and I was very good at getting the verdict I wanted.”

You rather like seeing this side of Astarion. Honest pride, confidence, and authority. The tip of your tongue runs along your bottom lip as you take in your love leaning over that table, dappled in moonlight. Gods, he’s beautiful.

“And how did you do that?” You pop your hip and raise your thumb to your mouth, teasing your lip as you peer up at him through your eyelashes. “Exactly?”

Astarion notices the shift in your demeanor immediately, his own eyes going half-lidded as they track the path of your hand to your mouth. His grin goes predatory and he leans back so he can come around the table to you and pull out the chair.

“Please, darling,” he says, nodding for you to sit. “Let’s talk, you and I.”

You pay him a sultry smile and sink into the chair, which he pushes in under you. Then he walks back around to the other side with his spine straight, hands folded behind his back.

A new game begins.

Astarion rolls out his shoulders as if he’s shedding a coat. When he turns to look at you, he does so down the length of his nose, his hard gaze making it clear that he thinks you beneath him.

You shiver as a thrill runs down your back and attempt to hide it.

He shakes his head above you, tutting. You’ve disappointed him.

Instinctively, you shrink into your chair slightly as he leans forward and places the tips of his fingers against the table in front of him, continuing to lower his face until it’s a mere foot from yours.

“A pathetic display back there,” he says, voice dripping with condescension. “Your associates have hung you out to dry. You do know that…” He tilts his head. “... don’t you?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and drop your eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Silly little patsy,” he chides as he straightens to glare down at you again. “Such stars in your eyes for friends who would sooner see you burn than stick their necks out for you.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” you say, raising your eyes to him in defiance even as you let a waver of nerves shake your voice.

“What must it be like to be so tragically misguided?” he sneers. It’s like an echo of a man you once knew. One you met on a sunny beach amid burning wreckage.

You blink up at him, eyes going soft. “I can’t betray them.”

“Betray them,” he breathes, huffing a mirthless laugh as he leans one hand onto a nearby chair. “My dear, they are in the next room, and the room after that, giving you up as we speak. No loyalty among thieves, I fear.”

“No,” you gasp. “They wouldn’t.”

Astarion holds a finger up to his lips, shushing you. “I think you know better than that. But fine, have it your way. Don’t give them up to save your own hide. Let me sweeten the pot.”

He turns his body so he can side-sit on the table and put his first knuckle under your chin, lifting it so he can inspect you. The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Gold to line your pockets, perhaps?”

Though you try to stop it, your body betrays you as a bright blush blooms across your nose and cheeks. Astarion’s pupils dilate above you.

“Or something else entirely?” he whispers, tilting his mouth closer to yours. “I’d much sooner send those two cads to Wyrm’s Rock in your place. Help me, and maybe you and I could have a bit of…” His eyes trail down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and beyond before he looks back into your eyes. “... fun in celebration.”

“Why would you do that for me?” you whisper back.

He shrugs. “What can I say? I rather like you. Plus, I might get a little kickback in the form of a promotion for bringing in two thorns in the Fist’s side, but that’s neither here nor there.” He rolls his eyes and pays you a flirtatious smile on the last bit.

And that… is your opening.

Your expression grows serious and you note the moment that Astarion’s eyebrows give the briefest twitch of concern.

"You've overplayed your hand, Magistrate Ancunín," you say.

Astarion draws his hand back and gives you a perplexed look. “Have I?”

You smile, then. Calm and dangerous. "I've been sent by the Board of Ethics, you see."

Astarion is thrown by this turn, but he recovers quickly, offering a simpering smile. "Oh? Oh, dear. Seems I've been caught with my pants down."

You stand, holding his eye. "Indeed. Best go place your hands on the desk where I can see them."

With a flourish, he holds his hands up for you to see. No funny business, none at all. He goes to the desk and spreads his palms flat against the polished wood. He must feel the heat of your skin as you come close, only inches away. Inspecting. Considering.

You lean in close to his ear. "Say our word if you'd like me to stop, Ancunín," you whisper.

"Stop what?" he asks.

In answer, you grab his hips and pull them flush against your own with enough force that he gasps from it, genuinely surprised. In his ear again, you whisper, "Teaching you a lesson."

You release him and move to his side. He turns his head to look at you and you can see the openmouthed surprise in his face, but it’s more than that. Surprised, yes, but also open. Interested. Very turned on. You know this look.

This is Astarion’s “oh, we’re doing that thing I like?” look. It’s a good look on him.

You tap a finger on his nearest hand. “Keep these exactly where they are. I must warn you that you face serious repercussions for witness tampering. I have some questions. Answer them to my satisfaction, and I may consider…” Your gaze trails down to the front of his trousers, which are straining. When you meet his eye again, you add, “... reinstatement.”

Astarion tilts his chin down so he can give you a heated look. “Then by all means,” he says, lips parted. “Ask.”

“Hm,” you hum as you trail your fingers over the desk as you walk around to the other side. You mimic his stance with your hands on the table, though yours is one of authority while his is one of awaiting judgment. He tilts his head at you in question, gaze hot. You match it.

“Let’s start with an easy one.” You tilt your head toward the wall without breaking eye contact. “That placard hanging there. What is it?”

He looks and then huffs through his nose. “It’s an oath.”

You tilt your head the other way. “And what does it say?”

Astarion smirks. “‘As an officer of the Court, I will strive to conduct myself at all times with integrity, dignity, and honor.’”

“That’s right,” you say, nodding. “Now tell me, Ancunín… do you feel you’ve conducted yourself in accordance with that oath?”

“Of course,” he answers without hesitation, flashing you a winning smile. “I offered you the utmost dignity and honor, did I not?”

An idea occurs to you and you imagine he catches the twinkle in your eye as you raise one of your hands to click your fingers, a glowing web of pale blue stretching to cage you both inside. Astarion frowns up at it. The moment he realizes what you’ve done, he gives you a look that’s half-exasperated and half-devious.

“What’s this?” he says, playing along.

“A little insurance policy. To ensure your adherence to honesty.” You reach to the collar of your shirt and undo one button. Then another.

Then another.

Astarion struggles to keep his eyes on your face, but when you lean back down onto the table, he can’t help but sneak a peek.

You toy with another button. “Why don’t you tell me what you think about dignity now?”

Astarion bites the corner of his lip to keep his expression serious. He keeps his eyes trained on your chest and seems to carefully consider his words before he says, “I maintain that I respect the dignity of your tits.”

That’s not what he meant to say. He blinks. His eyes flick up to yours. “Your position,” he amends.

His eyes flick back down. “Your position and your tits.”

“Ah,” you say. “Yes, I thought that might be the case. That you might be… what do they say? Dipping your wick in the law office wax.”

You stand and come back around to his side, maintaining your spell as you do. Astarion tracks you all the way back around.

“I’d like you to be as honest with me as you can be,” you say softly. “Not that you’ve much choice. So, in that case, here’s some extra… motivation.”

You’re behind him now and you hear his sharp intake of breath when he feels your palms spread over either side of his hips before moving around to the ties at the front of his trousers. You loosen them just enough to give you space.

Astarion’s knuckles are going white where he presses his fingers against the desk.

Your fingers are soft and warm against his lower abdomen as they dip below his waistband, then inside his underthings. You find what you seek and grip it firmly, fisting the length of him. He bites back a groan and flexes his hands against the wood as you draw him out into the open air.

“You do keep it cool in here,” you whisper into his ear. You keep your touch light as you tease his cock, just enough to make him want but not nearly enough to satiate the need. “Why is that?”

Astarion swallows and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “A little discomfort loosens the tongue, I find.” He struggles to keep the breathiness out of his voice and very nearly succeeds.

Nearly.

Your smile is wicked. “I see. Well.”

You rest his hardened length against the varnished wood of the desk. It’s cool on his touch-warmed skin and he whines lightly as you leave him there to walk around to his other side, fingertips drawing a trail across his broad back and shoulders.

“In that case, we’ll be leaving that…” You glance down at his cock, then back at his face. “… out in the cold until you’ve answered my questions to my satisfaction. Understood?”

He takes a deep breath through his nose and meets your eye. “Completely.”

“Good.” You move one of his misplaced curls back into place. “If I’m satisfied, I just might let you warm it up again. We shall see.”

“Indeed we shall,” he says, voice dropping deeper, and you can sense the challenge there. You smile as you turn away from him.

“Let’s try again,” you say. “Do you make a habit of lying to your interviewees in hopes of manipulating a confession?”

“Is ‘lying’ the word we want to use?” he says with a lilt.

“Yes.” You turn back to look at him.

He clears his throat, chewing his tongue to hide another smile before he looks away. He thinks a moment, then says, “I occasionally massage my message to pave the way for a more fruitful discussion in my favor, yes. Only in the interest of this office and my personal satisfaction.” He smirks at you, clearly pleased with himself.

You shake your head. “My, my. And just when I thought we were getting somewhere. Perhaps you need a reminder that I hold your immediate future in my hands?”

When you move back in and loosen his trousers still further to shove down his hips and below his arse, he wriggles to help. He seems to think he’s won this phase of the game. Adorable.

Rather than give him any relief, you reach out to the desk and pick up a wooden ruler, thin and flexible. Astarion opens his mouth, presumably to ask what you’re doing, but doesn’t get the chance as you use the flat of the ruler to give him a quick smack on his bare arse.

He cries out in surprise and looks around at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him the opportunity to call his out. Instead, you watch his eyes darken. He’s still in. Which is good, because gods above if you aren’t beginning to make a mess of your underwear already.

“Do you understand your situation?” you ask.

“Maybe you ought to remind me again,” he rumbles.

You do, leaving another slap on his pale skin. A shiver travels up his back from the base of his spine all the way up.

“I understand,” he says.

“Very good,” you say. “Do you manipulate the outcomes of your interviews?”

“Sometimes, yes,” he says quietly, peering up at you from under his brows.

“Thank you for your honesty. With bribery?”

He nods.

You bend forward so you’re eye-to-eye. “And do you frequently offer favors of a sexual nature?”

Astarion’s gaze drops to your mouth and he blinks heavily. “That’s only for when I see someone I like,” he says.

There’s another slap to his arse, quick as reflex, and he gives a small, broken “a-ah” as he drops his head. He spoke the truth, your spell ensures that, but you want him to be more specific. You look down to see he’s subtly grinding himself against the desk, his cock beginning to weep pre-fluid as you watch.

You place the ruler against his back to hold him in place. “None of that,” you say. “Not until you clarify. Why me?”

He groans in frustration. “Because I like you. Because I’m attracted to you. Because I want to be inside you and fuck and fuck and fuck until we’re both hoarse from crying our ecstasy.”

Well. The pair of underwear you’re wearing are officially done for, you fear.

“What a wicked tongue you have,” you breathe, not quite able to keep up your aura of authority. You swallow and add, “Perhaps I’ll consider letting you off with a warning if we can figure out a better use for it.”

Astarion goes to his knees so quickly it makes your head spin. You don’t hesitate to take care of the bindings on your own trousers and he’s eager to help, shoving your clothing to the floor. You’re trying to remove a boot when he presses his face into the crux of your legs and runs his tongue along the seam of you so hotly that you nearly fall over. You lean down and give him another half-hearted smack. All it does is elicit a groan against your most sensitive of places.

With some struggle, you manage to remove the boot, kick your trousers and underthings off of one leg, and hop up to sit on the desk, Astarion follows you along, refusing to let you leave him now that he’s on you. His mouth works against you on its own, tongue lapping firmly at the edges of your cunt, flushing you and making you swell. He hasn’t even touched your clit yet and you know you’re already slick with desire.

You’re so momentarily distracted that you almost miss where his hands have gone.

Chest heaving, you weakly wave to dismiss your Zone of Truth and call up your mage hand, sending it down where you can’t reach to grab the wrist of the hand Astarion’s using to pump his cock while he licks at you.

“I don’t think so,” you gasp. “Still on… probation.”

You’re losing the thread and you’re perfectly okay with it.

Astarion growls in response and comes up higher on his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you tight against his face. His tongue finally finds your center and he rolls it against your entrance, plying the place just inside that makes you go flush with arousal, your clit swelling further. Then he finally pays it attention with a light draw followed by firm circles, teasing until you feel sparkles of arcane energy tingling at your fingertips and zaps of pleasure shoot through your core.

He holds you so tight to him that there’s no escape from the assault of pleasure he’s waging on your body. All too soon, you’re whimpering as you approach your peak.

And Astarion simply stops. He leaves you there, right before the edge, and you cry out in dismay and frustration. Before you realize what’s happening, he’s on his feet and pulling you onto yours, spinning you around until your hips are pressed to the edge of the dark wood. You can feel his rock hard length against the cleft of your arse, feel the wetness at the tip of him against your lower back.

“You’ve overplayed your hand this time, I think,” he pants into your ear. “Let your guard down. What member of the Board of Ethics accepts bribes?”

When you try to wriggle free, you feel his fingers at your wrists. He takes your hands and spreads them on the desk as you’d done to him, bending you over. His hips draw back and then return and you feel his hardness drag over your folds from behind, teasing but not quite putting pressure on your clit.

His breathing is heavy, but through it, he manages, “This time, you tell me the truth. Why did you meet with me?”

“To catch you out,” you gasp. “Your behavior has been… unethical.”

“Is it unethical to recognize when someone wants your cock?” he whispers, sending a tingle over your shoulders. “Is it against my oath to offer?”

“That’s not… I didn’t…”

The head of his cock nudges your clit and you both hiss through your teeth. He pulls back until he catches at your entrance, pushing in just barely. Just enough to begin to feel him, but nowhere near enough of him. Instinctively you arch your back harder, trying to take more, but he won’t let you.

“Beg me,” he growls in your ear. “Beg me for my cock. Tell me it’s why you came here.”

Your very last thread of remaining restraint is pulled to its absolute limit, but it doesn’t break quite yet. “I came here on orders to uncover a magistrate with loose morals,” you manage.

Astarion reaches a hand up to the hair at the back of your head, grabs a handful, and gently pulls to bend your head back. Directly into your ear, he whispers, “You’ve found him. Now beg for it.”

In the quiver of his voice, you can hear that he’s the one begging you.

So you give in.

“I came here for you,” you whisper back. “Please, let me. Let me take your cock.”

His breath shudders out of him. “Take it you shall.”

Astarion thrusts his hips forward, burying himself in you, and you hardly have time to so much as gasp before he sets a punishing rhythm, one arm around your waist to hold you in place and the other one still tangled up in your hair. You arch deeply, giving him as much access as you can, and he pounds into you relentlessly. On the outskirts of your awareness, you feel bruises beginning to form on your hipbones from where they repeatedly hit the desk.

You don’t care one whit.

He keeps you bent over the desk, your palms spread to keep you both upright as he fucks you hard, his moans trapped behind his clenched teeth. As you fly full speed back to your edge, he removes the hand from your head and absently places it over your mouth to muffle your own escalating cries.

The coil of your climax tightens and Astarion begins to mutter a steady mantra of “yes, yes, yes, gods, yes” beside your ear. He presses himself all the way to the hilt and rocks, the base of him stretching you just right and his balls pressed firm to your clit and there, oh there, it’s right-

You scream behind Astarion’s palm as you come, the delicious tension boiling and spilling over as contractions roll through you, pleasure washing over your body with every heartbeat. You nearly blank out for a second and when you blink back down, your lover continues to pump into you as he chases his own end.

With a shaking hand, you call up your mage hand from where it shimmers nearby and press it to his chest, pushing back with soft pressure.

“No,” Astarion whines, attempting one or two more thrusts before you back him up. “No, please, please, I didn’t finish, I-”

You turn, bottomless and eyes full of fuck and revenge, and add your own hands to the mix, all three pushing him back until he hits the deposition table, going flat on his back. You crawl up over him and straddle him, up on your knees just out of reach.

You look down upon him, beautiful and fucked out in the moonlight. “Do you regret any of it?” you say.

“I’m regretting a lot of my decisions at the moment,” he snarks. His lips part as he breathes.

With a smile, you roll your hips just enough to catch the head of his cock back at your opening. “Do you regret any of it?” you repeat.

He pants, looking up at you. Then he reaches up to grip the front of your shirt and pull you down over him in a searing kiss. When you break, he whispers, “No. Not a moment. It brought me to you.”

You roll back, sinking down onto him. He gasps and throws his arms around you, helping you get back into rhythm, and he’s so close that it’s barely any time at all before he arches his back clear up off the table and groans as he spills inside of you, the relief painted across every inch of his face. He comes for nearly a minute, twitching and humming beneath you until he finally relaxes into a boneless heap.

When he next opens his eyes, you lean down and catch him in another kiss.

The pair of you have barely redressed and cast a few prestidigitation cantrips as a courtesy before there’s a sound somewhere down the hall. Footsteps. Coming closer.

“Shit,” Astarion whispers, startled. He grabs your hand and spins you both into a dim corner of the room before you both cast Invisibility. Just in the nick of time, it appears, because there’s a jangle of keys and then a harried-looking halfling comes bustling into the room, dark bags under their eyes.

They grumble to themselves for a moment, going to a box to sort through files. They don’t find what they’re looking for and move on to the desk. Once there, they open a drawer, then wrinkle their nose.

“Bleeding hells, it smells like sex in here,” they grumble. “Gonna tell Jackobson that Cole has been using his office again. Teach that arsehole for making me come fetch the file he forgot.”

The halfling pulls a file from the drawer, slams it, and exits the room.

Neither of you move for the rest of the minute your invisibility lasts. As soon as the cloaking spell fades, you both collapse to the floor in quiet giggles. You kiss Astarion through your laughter, again and again.

It’s nice to see this side of him.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #tavstarion #kitten writes

944 notes · View notes

daizedndconfused · 2 months ago

Text

thievin’

a/n- idk why im up right now but yay first post of 2025 who’s hyped?? ik i’ve been like mia for a bit but i blame my ps5 for that. also back in school!! awesome (can you tell im crying) lmaooo anyway this is defo gonna be like a mini series so get ready okay lots of love everyone hope you keep up your resolutions if you do em<33

characters- cole brookstone x thief fem!reader

type- eh fluff kinda/enemies to lovers type beat you’ll see

warnings- very mild suggestive comments (not proofread)

synopsis- you’re a thief living in the most run down part of ninjago. you’re doing everything you can to make ends meet, but sometimes you gotta bite the bullet and take a gamble. in order to make a little extra cash you’re sent on a mission to steal a very priceless artifact—the most high risk heist you’ve ever been on. you encounter a certain ninja during your outing and you just can’t help yourself to a little bit of fun upon meeting him. will he let you go? will you succeed in recovering the artifact? or will it be your head on the line instead?

word count- 3.1k

Being poor was okay. Obviously, it wasn’t the ideal spot to be in, and sure you’d prefer to have money and not have to worry about whether or not you would be able to feed yourself tomorrow but you can’t have it all, can you?

Everybody thought Ninjago was the most gorgeous city–clearly they’ve never visited your side of town. You personally didn’t think it was an awful place to live, but it definitely isn't what people would expect out of the great ninjago city.

Nevertheless, it was home. Well, home since your parents died and you were left to fend for yourself. Technically, your mother died during childbirth, or shortly after. You didn’t really like to ask your father about it. It seemed insensitive.

The loss of your father was more recently caused by an unsuspected illness you didn’t have the funds to get treated. You lost him seven years ago, and you miss both of them immensely, even if you never knew your mother–she still held a place in your heart, and your blood.

Plus, it wasn’t as if you were completely alone. The loss of your parents and your home only hindered your spirit for a few months. But eventually, you had to grow up. You had only yourself now, and you needed to start getting your shit together.

That’s how you found yourself living in a narrow alley with nothing but a few blankets to separate yourself from the hard concrete, and a tarp above your head held up by hopes and dreams in case it rained. Courtesy of a girl you’d met three years ago–Henley.

You did what you had to to survive, the both of you did, but your version of ‘work’ was a tad more illegal than Henley’s. While your friend chose to work at some manufacturing factory that paid maybe ten cents an hour, you quickly developed the skill of ‘soft hands.’

Just a little something you picked up in the few years before befriending Henley. Plus, living where you did at the time, it was customary for your father to teach you martial arts, and teach he did. He often pushed you to your limits, making sure your senses were always on high alert.

Though now you supposed you were grateful for it. It made it easy to navigate the crowded streets of Uri–the poorer side of Ninjago that most people decided to ignore.

The early morning sun beat down on you, somehow finding its way around the tarp above your head.

Groaning you rolled over, hoping to block out the rays and catch a few more hours of sleep.

“Morning,” Henley yawned from beside you.

You mumbled incoherently back at her.

“I’ve gotta get going, work starts soon,” Henley told you. You heard her scooting closer towards you.

“Why d’you work at that shithole?” You grumbled, still not fully awake. “They barely pay you, Henley.”

You could practically see the expression on her freckled face. She was most likely staring down at you with a torn and somewhat somber expression.

“It’s the only place that would hire me,” she muttered. “You know that.”

Squeezing your eyes tight you then sat up, stretching out your back. Upon opening your eyes you came to find out your assumption was correct.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Which is bullshit by the way. Any web company would be lucky to have you.”

Henley shrugged a shoulder. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Then it’s a good thing we haven’t stooped that low,” you reassured her. You left the unspoken yet out of the sentence.

Henley smiled, brushing back her mane of curly red hair. “Okay, now I really need to go. Please, be safe today, and try not to get caught. I really don’t know if I can stomach breaking you out of jail again.”

“In my defense,” you said as she stood to leave. “There may have been some alcohol behind the reason that asshole caught up to me.”

Henley fixed you with a look that said, Good luck, before she looked up and down the already busy streets and made her way to the factory.

You gave yourself a few more minutes before heading out onto the streets. As usual, Uri was already busy at like eight a.m on a weekday. Stall owners were yelling at anyone passing by as if the volume would persuade people to stop and buy a useless trinket they didn’t need.

Still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you wove through people, fluid like a leaf in the wind. It was almost too easy to nick people’s wallets this way. In Uri it was almost impossible to walk anywhere without brushing shoulders with someone. Lucky for you, the jacket you wore held many pockets to store your ‘finds’ on the street.

After palming a few wallets on your way to possibly the best looking building in this part of town, you opened them up to find nothing much. Out of all the wallets you lifted, you got a whopping thirty dollars.

See that was the issue with living in a poor neighborhood–everyone you stole from was also poor. Not a great match unfortunately.

Sighing, you made your way towards the tallest building in Uri. It also just happened to be where you’d pick up a way to make some extra cash on the days that were really slow. Just from waking up this morning you knew today would be one of them.

The only issue is, the jobs you’re given are risky, and so you try not to do them as often.

The guards posted outside of the doors let you through without any issues. At this point you’d been coming here sporadically for about five and a half years. You were the best and most reliable thief Malina had.

A few doors, some hallways, and an elevator later, you stood in front of the woman herself.

Malina stared at you with a victorious glint in her eyes, her head resting on her intertwined fingers. “And here I thought you broke up with me.”

“Ah, you know me,” you shrugged, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “Always comin’ back.”

“Now that I can always rely on.” Malina leaned back in her big leather chair, one long leg crossed over the other.

Malina was the only successful business owner in this Uri. Shockingly, she got most of her wealth from illegal schemes and black market dealings. Which is why she needed you.

Malian didn’t waste any time in throwing down a file on top of her spotless desk.

“It’s all in there,” she waved a gloved hand, her diamond bracelet twinkling in the light of her office.

You reached for the file and flipped it open to survey its contents. Your eyes widened as you continued further and further down the papers clipped together. This job was impossible.

Usually, nothing is impossible for you. However, in the past Malina only ever had you stealing jewels from old guys on their deathbed, or artwork from museums, and sometimes some random priceless artifact guarded in an equally random warehouse.

Apparently this time she really wanted to put you to the test.

“This is a joke,” you said, flipping the file shut.

“How so?” Malina asked, dark brows furrowed in innocence.

“Look, you give me work, and I’ve always appreciated that,” you told her honestly. “But stealing from the Royal Family is my one way ticket to a lifetime in prison.”

Malina pouted at you. “And here I thought my star employee never got caught.”

You scoffed out a laugh, tongue in your cheek as you looked up to the heavens for patience.

When she didn’t back down you finally spoke. “What else you got for me?”

“Unfortunately,” Malina said, though her tone didn’t suggest she found it anywhere near unfortunate, “that’s it.”

“Bullshit,” you challenged.

Malina raised her hands. “I’m serious! Work’s been booming lately.”

Crossing your arms, you rolled your eyes. The two of you stood unspeaking, staring at each other as you weighed your options.

On the plus side, if you did this job successfully, you and Henley might be able to afford an actual apartment. A shitty one, but it was better than the alley. Plus, you might also be able to afford the first few months of rent before you get a real job and force Henley to quit hers at the factory.

Closing your eyes you reluctantly agreed. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Malina’s grin widened into an eerie expression, her pearly white teeth shone almost as bright as the diamonds around her wrist. “I knew you would. Clothes are in their usual place.”

You nodded and spun on your heel, hightailing it out of Malina’s office. Thankfully, ever since you all but pledged your loyalty to her, she’d provide you with some living essentials occasionally. Things like showers, a hairbrush, basic needs like that.

But when she sent you out on a mission, she made sure you were set up for success, and the rest was on you. Opening the wooden wardrobe at the end of the hall, you were greeted with the familiar sight of the dark clothing you typically wore on outings such as these.

You picked the uniform off the hanger and quickly found the nearest room to change in. Even though you wouldn’t be leaving until nightfall, you still would rather put it on now as it helped you even in Uri. With the hood and mask covering the bottom half of your face, the only thing you could really make out was your hair and eyes.

You spent most of the day on the roof tops, going over the blueprints of the palace Malina provided for you, along with the guard rotations. Pacing along the edge of an old rundown building, you slowly came up with a plan. Though, the object you had been assigned to steal was a bit odd. You expected jewels, or even the crown, but instead you were sent after a golden hourglass, with equally golden sand inside.

You didn’t know the properties or importance of the object, but to be honest, you didn’t really care. You just wanted to get the job done and over with so you could return home and finally place a roof over your head after seven years of sleeping under the open sky.

As soon as the sun set beyond the city, you set out. Of course, you left Henley a note explaining you might not be back tonight–and that you might not be back at all–but you assured her not to worry.

It took a while to get to the good part of town, but a few subway trains later, you finally made it. And what a difference it was.

Instead of yelling and aggressive haggling, there was light chatter, laughter, and the buzz of technology reverberating around you. Not to mention the colors. Almost every sign in Ninjago was neon, and sometimes you couldn’t help but get a little sidetracked looking at all the beautiful things you’d never get to experience yourself.

Eventually, you found yourself by the palace. Fishing out the timetable of the guard rotations, you determined that the east side of the castle would be the most unprotected in about two minutes–meaning you had to be quick.

Quick you were. You managed to get to the east side and scale the wall in a minute and thirty. Tiptoeing around the outer wall, you made sure to keep your eyes on the guards below. So far, none of them noticed you.

Finally, you landed on the tiled roof. By memorization, the hourglass would be located in a mostly open room on the top floor. Carefully maneuvering around the roof, making sure to not make too much noise, you managed to unlock the window and pull it open.

Thankfully, it didn’t make much noise. Letting out an internal sigh of relief, you quickly tied a rope on one of the support pillars of the palace and threw it over the side of the window. Directly below the window was an obnoxiously large potted plant that would do well to hide you from view.

You briefly wondered if you’d be able to climb back up with rope one handed, but instead you figured you could bring a cord to secure the hourglass onto your belt loop.

As usual, you landed on the red wood floors without a sound. As much as you wished to stick around and admire the impressive castle you’d only ever seen in newspapers, you had a job to do.

Heart hammering, you peeked around the plant to find two guards–both with their back towards you.

It feels almost too easy, you thought as you crept towards the hourglass displayed on a pedestal.

Once you got close enough, you took a few moments to inspect the pedestal. There was a very possible chance of the hourglass being placed upon a weighted pressure plate that would set off the emergency alarms if removed, but after looking at it, the stone surface looked entirely even. There most likely wasn’t any extra security around this artifact, but in the off chance there was, you’d have to be ready to run.

Calming your mind, you swiped it quickly, preferring to take it and bolt in case the alarms went off.

You got three strides in before your luck ran out. All around you alarms had started blaring, alerting every guard on the premises. However, by that point you had already tied the glass around your waist and were ascending the rope.

You could vaguely make out the alarmed voices of the guards chasing after you, and as soon as you heaved yourself onto the roof, you sliced the rope with the knife in your boot. Two thuds and pained grunts were all you heard before you bolted.

Guards were climbing up at every point, but what they had in size and brute strength, you had in speed and agility. Being quick on your feet was like second nature–and you really should send a letter to the Royal Family to invest in some guards. These ones weren’t all that good at their job.

You hoped over them in groups, and it felt like you knew the palace layout better than they did. You knew exactly where to step and when to step, that by the time you landed on the other side of the walls, you knew you had one.

You grinned and laughed triumphantly as you jumped across the rooftops. The guards got further and further away and you blame the adrenaline in your veins for what happened next.

Suddenly, something tangled itself around your ankles, sending you tumbling to the concrete of an apartment complex.

“Son of a–” you winced, cradling the wrist you had landed on at an awkward angle.

Sitting up quickly, you reached for the rope wrapped around your ankles when a boot beat you to it.

“I don’t think that belongs to you,” the stranger spoke.

Looking up slowly, you mentally cursed yourself at the figure standing above you.

The Earth Ninja.

Why the hell were they at the palace? Why did they care about some petty robbery, wasn’t there some maniac trying to destroy the world that they should be busy with at the moment?

“What? The outfit? It doesn’t–borrowed from a friend.” You leaned back on your palms, looking up at the Earth Ninja’s strikingly gorgeous face.

He wasn’t wearing his mask tonight, leaving all his features on display–brown eyes that you guessed were a gorgeous shade of hazel in the light, shaggy but well kept hair as dark as the sky above, and a build that could rival the strength of an ox.

Cocking your head, you pushed your hood back and mask down, letting him see your roaming eyes and approving smirk.

“I need that.” He pointed to the golden hourglass at your hip. Apparently he didn’t find your jokes very funny.

“No, I need it,” you countered. “How else am I supposed to keep track of the time? I don’t have a watch.”

You shoved your hands up, rotating your wrists spastically to emphasize your point.

The Earth Ninja leaned down, but you didn’t back down. “Just hand over the glass, and I’ll tell them you dropped it trying to flee.”

You too leaned towards him, the both of you so close your noses were almost touching. In the ninja’s favor, his expression didn’t falter.

“I told you, I need it.”

“And I gave you an ultimatum,” the ninja returned, his eyes hardening. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” You smirked with a wink.

You saw his facade crack slightly as he twitched back every so slightly. That was all the hesitation you needed.

As the two of you went back and forth, you had been discreetly severing the rope binding your legs, and you quickly wrapped them around his waist, flipping him over onto his back. The Earth Ninja landed with a harsh exhale. You leaped off of him quickly before he could counter your surprise attack.

He was a ninja, and you knew there was no way you’d be able to beat him at hand to hand combat, but you could avoid him. Your thought was proven when he was back on his feet and into a fighting stance a split second after you created distance between you and him.

The Earth Ninja raised a curious brow at you over his raised fists. “Who are you?”

“Funny I was about to ask the same thing,” you laughed. “But, I think I’ve got something that could help me out with that–Cole L. Brookstone–what’s the L for? Oh well, six-foot five inches, black hair, two hundred and ten pounds–” you broke off looking him up and down. “Well you certainly don’t look over two hundred.”

Cole’s eyes widened as he lunged for you, and the wallet in your hand. You jumped back from him easily and continued to read off his driver's license.

“Hazel eyes, nineteen years old–oh cute we’re the same age–”

“Give it back!” He demanded, reaching for you again, only for you to slide under his legs and appear behind him.

“Born on October 25th–” another attempt to grab you had you using the rope previously used on you against him, binding his wrists, and legs making him fall on his ass.

You then hopped onto the roof of the entrance hallway of the building, and sat on the edge, legs swinging in front of you.

You continued to flip through his wallet, “Restaurant receipt–you know you don’t have to keep those. Lifetime subway pass, oh you lucky bastard. Gift card you’ve probably had for three years, credit card–very shiny, one fifty in cash and–” you paused upon seeing the last item in his standard leather wallet.

Sliding your eyes down to the boy your age, you raised a brow at him, almost laughing at his red face you could see even in the dark.

“Why do you have a condom in your wallet?” You giggled.

Cole momentarily stopped struggling against the rope and had the decency to look away, embarrassed.

“Emergencies,” he grumbled, glaring up at you.

“Ah, right,” you sucked air through your teeth before tossing it back down on his lap.

Flexing his arms, he snapped the ropes like they were ribbons and did the same with the ones binding his legs.

“So, it seems we're at an impasse,” you sighed.

“No,” he stood, “we’re not.”

“Au contraire, you’ll never catch me. You had your shot, and you blew it.” You pointed at him accusingly. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I’m very slippery. And I assure you–you chase, and I’ll run, and I can keep running for a damn long time.”

It would become a game of cat and mouse you knew would go on forever.

“Surely you don’t expect me to just let you walk away with a priceless artifact from the Royal Family.” Cole crossed his arms.

“Exactly–impasse.”

The stubborn boy shook his head, black waves flopping. “No, I–”

Before he could finish his sentence, the dart was already buried into his arm.

Cole startled, looking down at the tiny metal needle sticking out of his right bicep. He gave you an unimpressed look before reaching with his other hand to pluck it from his body. However, his hand was halfway there when it went limp by his side.

Cole’s brown eyes went wide as his legs too started to wobble, and shortly after the rest of his body gave away.

He once again landed on the ground with a dull thud.

Smiling slightly you gracefully jumped down from your perch and made your way over to him to retrieve your dart.

“What the hell is that?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Just a numbing sedative,” you responded, pocketing it. “Don’t worry it’ll wear off in like an hour.”

“An hour? Hell no, help me up.”

“Hmm, tempting,” you deadpanned, but you did prop his back up against the wall of the roof in a sitting position.

Cole glared at you, and you smirked back.

“I enjoyed our little game of cat and mouse my friend,” you patted his cheek before standing to full height. “But I’m afraid I must be going. Places to be, money to be made–you know how it is.”

“Hey! Wait!” Cole called to your retreating back.

But you didn’t. Instead you leapt down to the adjacent roof and all but skipped back to Uri, happy that you weren’t caught, but you weren’t entirely mad about meeting the Earth Ninja either. Secretly, you hoped he'd track you down–where round two of your game would take place.

80 notes · View notes

silenzahra · 4 months ago

Text

🫧 Bubbles of love 🫧

Exactly one year ago, a very special game was released for the Nintendo Switch:

🫧 Super Mario Bros Wonder 🫧

And it's a game that I loved and enjoyed so much, that I decided to write a little something to celebrate it! 🎂

As I mentioned here, I came up with this idea when I was trying to fall asleep a few nights ago and wrote it in one go the following evening. Don't even ask me how, because I always take FOREVER to write a story, but in this case, and as shocking as it sounds, this story is short.

Yes. You read it right: short. Again, I don't know how, but without setting a precedent, I was able, for once, to write a story that is actually short 😂

Anyways, thank you so much to those of you who reacted to the aforementioned post to try and guess what this story might be about! You're about to find out... and I'll just say a few of you got it right 🤭 (And those who didn't, you gave me amazing ideas... I may or may not be taking notes for the future 🤭📝)

I hope it's okay that I tag those of you who showed interest, as well as some folks who I believe might enjoy this 🥰 Of course, if I'm wrong, you're more than free to ignore this post, and please forgive me for bothering you 😅

@megamagimugi @pepperycar @peaches2217 @bberetd @itsavee4117 @coffeecat1983 @doodleydoo101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf (no rush at all of course! Take your time 🥰) @smokszyvverstar @eleventhhourfactor @marioandluigi1983 @c-lavanda @zocchini37 @teegeeteegee @akiiame-blog @dragon-fly34 @supergay-64

EDIT: @pinkcreamypeach adding you to the list in case you're interested! 🥰💖

My beloved big sis @vulpixfairy1985 deserves a special mention, as you'll find a part in this story that might remind you of her beautiful story A moment together 🤭🎈 Thank you so much for giving me permission to do so, dear sister! 💖

Without further ado: enjoy! 😄🫧💖

As always, you can continue reading under the cut! Likes, comments, kudos, reblogs and any kind of feedback is always more than welcome! 🥰💖

🫧 Bubbles of love 🫧

Mario can't stop looking at Peach.

He’s been staring at her in rapt attention for a while now. Specifically, since he’s seen her touch the Bubble Flower that has caused her familiar pink dress, which suits her so well and which Mario adores dearly, to turn a shade of purple, though not a very dark one. Peach has immediately begun to throw bubbles to catch the enemies that were stalking them, facing them without hesitation, bravely and keeping every bit of her characteristic elegance untouched.

And Mario has confirmed, once again, that he’s absolutely and irremediably in love with her.

Now, fortunately, the road they’re following is completely clear. They’ve all stopped to rest together in a clearing in Pipe-Rock Plateau, and Peach, her power-up still on, is sitting on a rock and chats absentmindedly with Toadette. Mario is not even aware that he’s smiling wider than ever as he watches her; he’s just reveling in her infinite beauty, her long golden hair and deep blue eyes that resemble two sapphires, and her gestures and expressions, never lacking in sweetness and demureness.

Mario suddenly finds himself lost in thought, his mind filling with the moments they shared together on their first visit to the Flower Kingdom a year ago. How much Peach was surprised when the Piranha Plants started singing, just before she started smiling and clapping as she let herself be carried away by the music, being the first of the whole group to do so. The various races with their friend Wiggler, with whom they had such a great time, despite the dangerousness of some of the places they ran. The unexpected Halloween-themed party they stumbled upon when they arrived at Fungi Mines. How Peach liked to chase him as they dived into Petal Isles, making reaching the finish in the watery areas a fun and always healthy competition. The catchy and lively music with which the Ninjis greeted the whole group when they arrived at their hidden disco in Sunbaked Desert and how Peach enjoyed jumping to the rhythm of their melody.

The wonderful feeling of flying away clutching his cap while Peach did the same at his side, which gave them the opportunity to share a brief moment of complicity and fun that belonged only to them.

A sigh escapes Mario's lips. What he’d give to relive all those moments with his beloved princess just one more time.

What he’d give to muster the courage to go one step further and declare his love to her at last.

A loud laugh startles him and brings him back to reality. Puzzled, he turns his head in search of the source of the laughter. He smiles immediately when he notices Daisy, who, not much farther away, pulls Luigi's hand, who is also laughing, although a little more shyly and nervously. Mario notices that both of them are also using a Bubble Flower, as evidenced by Luigi's pink shirt and hat and his green overalls and Daisy's purple dress. A sudden memory assaults Mario's mind: his little brother, completely blushing, confessing to him, without looking him in the eye, that he loves how well Daisy looks in purple, as according to him, it matches perfectly with the yellow of the edges of her skirt and with her auburn hair. And, besides, it's her favorite color.

Mario's smile is full of tenderness as he watches his beloved little brother being carried away by his fearless princess. Daisy is creating bubbles incessantly and, without letting go of Luigi's hand, she starts bouncing on them, dragging the younger plumber along with her. Mario watches them while he remembers another special occasion: that time when, after taking Luigi to Sarasaland in his Odyssey ship, he began to create bubbles near the princess' balcony to invite her and Luigi to share a moment together. Mario recalls how much fun they both had, holding hands as they danced on the bubbles, the purest and most primal happiness radiating from their every gesture and face.

Mario couldn’t be happier that they’ve decided to recreate the scene they shared back then, this time being in charge of creating the bubbles themselves. Tenderness dances in his chest as he witnesses how his twin, despite his initial insecurity and reticence, gradually gains more confidence, no doubt infected by Daisy's boldness and the self-assuredness she gives him. Mario’s heart fills with joy when a laugh finally bursts from Luigi's lips, showing that all traces of fear have been buried under layers and layers of fun and bliss.

With dreamy eyes, Mario watches as, in a matter of seconds, Luigi and Daisy are dancing in the air, holding hands and surrounded by bubbles that seem to be in tune with their movements. A giggle escapes Mario as Luigi spins Daisy around and then holds her around the waist, Daisy's arms around his neck. His little brother is quite a ladies’ man.

A soft giggle then reaches his ears. Mario's attention is immediately diverted to Peach, who, like him, looks at the couple and seems touched by the happiness they radiate. It is at that moment, watching the princess cover her mouth with her hand, always so restrained, with her golden hair falling in waves down her back and her distinctive heart-shaped bangs crowning her forehead, that Mario gets the idea.

He doesn’t miss a beat and starts turning everywhere. Fortunately, his search soon pays off: not far away, at the other end of the clearing, he spots a block that, he hopes, hides a Bubble Flower. He rushes to it without a second thought, but on the way, he’s assailed by the possibility that it’s an Elephant Fruit or a Drill Mushroom. What will he do then? His plan will only work with a Bubble Flower... Although there might be something he can do for Peach if he finds himself transformed into an elephant. After all, he's pretty good at improvising.

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he reaches the block and looks at it while giving himself a few seconds to catch his breath. His fate is locked inside that bright yellow box with a white question mark inscribed on it. His mind tries to come up with ideas, options that he could carry out in case he doesn't receive the desired power-up, but Mario has never dealt well with uncertainty.

So, without further thought, he jumps up with his fist in the air.

A beautiful flower with a pink center in which two black eyes gleam, surrounded by purple petals which, in turn, are encircled by other petals, these of a snowy white, welcomes him.

Mario laughs and lets out a shout of victory before jumping back up, hand outstretched to touch the flower at its very center. As soon as he does, he notices how his body absorbs the power-up and performs a small spin in the air as his clothes change color, his blue overalls turning red and his shirt and cap turning pink. Before he hits the ground again, he’s already created his first bubble.

Satisfied, he quickly turns around and makes sure that Peach hasn't noticed anything, as she has resumed her conversation with Toadette. A little further on, Mario is surprised to see that, among the bubbles, Luigi and Daisy are now dancing closer than ever, their mouths very close to touching. He looks away immediately; even though they’re in a clearing with their other companions, he understands that this is a very intimate moment for his brother and the princess of Sarasaland. He tells himself that he has to remember to congratulate Luigi later, but not before teasing him a little as any good big brother would do.

Determined, Mario stands with his back to everyone and begins to carry out his plan. First he creates a huge bubble to serve as a base, and on both sides of it he places two others, also very large. He has to stifle a giggle as he realizes that he’s inadvertently formed a head that reminds him of a certain very famous mouse whose tone of voice is quite similar to his, or so he has always been told. He doesn't think there are that many similarities, but he's gotten used to the jokes.

He shrugs and continues with his task. He continues to blow and originate large bubbles that he places in the appropriate positions and climbs through them as his creation takes shape. He has no idea how long it takes him, but during that time, short or long, only he and his plan exist. He completely forgets where he is and who is around him. He can only recreate in his mind Peach's beautiful face, the living image of grace and pureness, as he works tirelessly. How will she react when she sees what he’s done? Will she be very surprised? Will she be happy?

Will she be... horrified?

Suddenly it occurs to Mario that, perhaps, what he’s doing is too bold, too obvious. He may indeed be taking a big risk. With his hand outstretched and about to blow yet another bubble, Mario thinks for a few seconds. Should he stop? Should he go on? What if it's too much?

However, he immediately shakes his head. He knows he wants to do it, no matter what, and that nothing could stop him. Not when resolve courses through his veins like a fast-flowing river and floods every corner of his body.

Besides, he loves the power of creating bubbles, bouncing on them and feeling himself fly higher and higher, and what better way to finally take the step of expressing his feelings for the princess of the Mushroom Kingdom than to use them?

Mario forces the torrent of tremendous thoughts that appear in his mind to stop and ignores the rapid beating of his heart. Firmly, he finally blows and creates a new bubble with which to perform his plan, and skillfully directs it to the point where he wants to place it.

Whatever happens next, Mario is willing to take the risk.

When, at last, he blows the last big bubble that puts the finishing touch to his work, Mario sits on it with a soft snort, eyes closed, and runs his sleeve across his forehead. He smiles absently and gives himself a few seconds to enjoy the sensation of being high up. There’s not much distance between the ground and where he stands, but it’s enough for him.

When he opens his eyes, however, his serene smile is replaced by an expression full of the most infinite surprise.

At his feet, a large part of his group of friends has gathered. The two Toads and the four Yoshis gaze at his creation with amazement gleaming on their faces. Nabbit is there too, his head tilted back so as not to miss a detail, but the scarf covering half of his face prevents Mario from reading his expression clearly. Even Luigi and Daisy have abandoned their close dance to come closer to watch, and they’re both beaming with smiles full of admiration and eyes shining with enthusiasm. When his glance meets his brother's, Mario smiles sheepishly as Luigi gives him an energetic thumbs-up while winking approvingly.

Next to his twin, Mario spots Toadette, who is clapping enthusiastically, and he waves at her quickly as his brain starts to process that, if she's there, that means...

Indeed, standing by her side is Peach herself, causing Mario's throat to suddenly go dry as his heart skips a beat.

His beloved Peach, for whom he has just built a huge heart made of bubbles.

His beloved Peach, who gazes at the result of his efforts with wide eyes as she covers her mouth with both hands.

His beloved Peach, whose sparkling sapphire eyes meet his own.

Mario is speechless. Are those... tears? He can't tell for sure, as he stands at a certain height, but he could swear he’s seen something glistening in the evening sun on the sides of his princess's beautiful eyes.

To say that his heart is bouncing in his chest would be an understatement.

Embarrassment invades Mario in a sudden surge that sweeps everything in its path. He hadn't counted on having such an audience. He had hoped it could be something private, something to share only with Peach. Of course, considering that the whole group is gathered in the middle of a clearing, he supposes it was too much to ask.

Still, the plumber puts his hand to his mouth and blows again. He sends the new bubble floating gently to Peach's very feet, and she lowers her head for a moment before raising it again, questioning him with her gaze. Despite the insecurity that always floods him when it comes to her, Mario nods, his lips drawing a nervous and somewhat crooked smile, and hurries to blow a second bubble that he also sends down, though at a slightly higher distance than the first one.

And Peach, without taking her eyes off Mario, lowers her hands to grab her purple skirts and begin the ascent.

Mario's heart swells and sings as he notices the wide, radiant smile adorning the pink lips of his beloved princess.

He forces himself to hold back a giggle of joy and keep blowing. His eyes never leave Peach's, who, in turn, can't take her eyes off him. Mario watches as his princess climbs towards him, those deep eyes getting closer and closer, her approaching him as if in slow motion. His rapid heartbeat thunders in his ears, but he’d love to continue living this moment forever, to extend it in time, to never end the sweet anticipation of knowing that, soon, his princess will be with him.

He never wants to stop looking at those eyes, which, as he very well knows, can never, ever have an owner, because of the simple fact that they’re not of this world.

However, sooner than he expected, Mario finds himself having to look up slightly, as Peach has finally reached him. They both gasp slightly, but the princess’ smile is so wide and shiny, brighter than the sun itself, that Mario doubts there can be anything in the world that would be able to erase it. He was about to create a new bubble, his hand outstretched, so instead, he extends his arm a little and offers it to Peach. She lets go of her skirts without a second thought and accepts his hand, her slender, delicate fingers resting gently on his rough, calloused palm.

Mario can hardly believe his luck.

Quickly, he leans to one side and invites Peach to sit next to him in the bubble that closes the heart, which she does with diligence and gracefulness, their hands still clasped together. The instant Mario’s brain registers that his beloved princess has just taken a seat next to him and that their fingers, despite the gloves, remain touching, he feels like he might faint. The outside world disappears completely for him, as does the entire group that continues looking at them on the ground. He barely hears, as if in the background, the voices of Luigi and Daisy as they urge the others to disperse to give the couple some privacy.

At this very moment, only he and Peach exist.

When they look at each other, she seems to want to tell him so many things. Why he has just created an entire heart made of bubbles, perhaps. Why he's invited her up, only her. “You're crazy,” even.

Peach doesn't utter a word, however. She doesn't need to, for her bright, expressive eyes speak for her. Mario senses that they’re communicating, that they’re speaking despite the absence of words, that they’re having a conversation that only they understand, a conversation that springs directly from her heart and reaches into his own.

And yet, despite this, he could never have foreseen what Peach does next.

She raises her hand, causing the touch between them to break. For Mario, it's like having a little piece of his heart ripped out, like his lungs shrinking in size. He will recover, however; for a few precious seconds he’s held his princess's hand between his fingers, and nothing can take away the joy that this brief but intense contact has caused him.

Even so, before he has time to understand what’s happening, Peach's palms rest on his cheeks, so that she’s cupping his face with infinite tenderness. Mario has just short-circuited again, so he’s unable to react. Unless melting inside and feeling his face burning like the fiercest fire counts as a reaction.

And suddenly, with the swiftness of the blink of an eye, Peach's lips land on his.

Mario's heart stops suddenly.

Suddenly he’s no longer there. Suddenly, he’s gone up to heaven and he’s not even aware that he’s done so. Suddenly, his eyes can do nothing but close, his ears cut off from the outside world, his hands rise to rest on Peach's hips with a certain possessiveness that he doesn't know where it comes from, but that he’s unable to contain.

Suddenly, Mario is in heaven and does not intend to come back down.

105 notes · View notes

calangolengo · 5 months ago

Text

Some headcanons that I think about a lot for Mute!Stan:

1. He didn't stop talking right away, it was a gradual process. Each year he spoke less, which got him into less trouble as a criminal, he had to do horrible things to himself to control his tongue and speak softly, he was yelled at a lot on the streets to shut up.

2. He learned some sign language on the street, but he wasn't fluent so he still had to speak sometimes.

3. When he got Ford's card he was barely speaking anymore, talking to his brother was one thing since his voice had been out of use for months already.

4. After Ford falls into the portal, Stan organizes his own funeral, his mother almost recognizes his voice because it was very different from Ford's at this point, so he decides to stop talking completely. People saw this as a response to the trauma of losing his brother so they didn't talk much about it.

5. Stan still opened the Mystery Shack, but without the guided tours. He simply made it more like a museum. He placed a speaker in front of each strange object where he recorded some descriptions of the creatures in advance, alone, at night.

6. He spread several speakers throughout the cabin with price information and random curiosities. As well as a larger speaker that constantly repeated that they did not accept refunds at the Mystery Shack.

7. The tours were created by Soos. As a child, he would visit the cabin with his grandmother and, since she was bad with the speakers, he would invent descriptions of the objects himself, which always gathered a small crowd around him who bought many more things on the way out. Stan hired him almost immediately.

8. Soos quickly learned sign language to talk to Stan and later taught Wendy, who also went to work there.

9. The kids learned sign language at home when they learned they were going to stay with their estranged great uncle who they had only heard about and who was apparently mute. It was a challenging project for them. Dipper learned it to challenge himself academically and Mabel learned it because it was fun to use a secret language and also because she thought it was like creating spells with her hands. They weren't very good, but they managed well.

10. When the portal is reactivated, Mabel is still left with the decision of whether to turn it off or not and for the first time in years Stan speaks and asks her not to turn it down, which shocks everyone because they thought Stan was mute since birth.

11. Ford is not happy when he comes back and Stan doesn't talk to him, despite all his knowledge of sign language it was never something that caught his attention and he suspects that Stan is just doing it just to be a jerk.

12. The kids get upset with Stan for being able to talk all that time and refuse to acknowledge his sign language for the rest of the day, avoiding looking at his hands the whole time, Stan panics and basically Soos is the only one who makes communication between Stan and the others viable because he translates everything Stan says.

13. The kids talk to Stan again the next day because he seems miserable for not being able to talk to them and also because they are so used to this type of communication that they forget that they were ignoring him.

14. Ford is the hardest to accommodate; when he's not deliberately ignoring Stan, he tries to catch him off guard so he'll talk. At one point, an argument starts at night on the porch, demanding that his brother talk, which leads Stan to try to talk again, but can't because he's desperate and has a panic attack.

15. During Weirdmageddon, they still switch identities, with Stan speaking and acting exactly like Ford. Bill is tricked because he knows that one of the twins can't talk and ends up being erased with Stan's mind.

16. When his memory is erased, Stan starts talking again. It takes a while for his voice to come back because he didn't use it much. The children still use sign language while talking to him to try to bring his memories back. The scrapbook works little by little.

17. With each passing day, Stan remembers a little more and each day he talks less until, by the time Stan and Ford get on their boat, he has all his memory restored and has stopped talking completely again.

18. Stan speaks few words sometimes, he says his brother's name, a few words of comfort or a greeting, only to Ford and in a low tone of voice, it doesn't happen much but whenever it does it brings Ford to tears, he preserves each of these moments as treasures.

That's it for now, I've been thinking a lot about Mute Stan in the last few days and I wanted to express these thoughts a little, whoever wants to add more things or take over the narrative from here on out, feel free, the floor is open.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #mute!stan

131 notes · View notes

haartemis · 5 months ago

Text

I love you, it's ruining my life | Part V

pairing: Kylian x black!fem!Reader

word count: 4.5k

part one, part two, part three, part four

V. May 2024

She’d gotten the invitation in the mail a few weeks ago, a creamy white envelope announcing the upcoming wedding of Julien, a childhood friend from Bondy, to his fiancee of several years. Seeing his name on the paper had brought a smile to her face; it had been years since she’d seen him.

She’d be in Paris to visit her parents anyway, it would be a crime not to go.

She’d quickly written to him to say congratulations, and Julien had texted back a thank you. Moments later, he’d texted her something she’d expected.

Not sure if you’re still in touch with Kylian, but if you can let him know about the wedding, that’d be great. We haven’t seen each other in ages!

Unsurprisingly, the response she’d gotten from Kylian was a firm and resounding no.

“Why not?” She’d asked over the phone.

“Because of a lot of things, Y/N” There was a lot of chatter from Kylian’s end, she had caught him just as he’d entered the locker room after a grueling match.

“Well, what are those things?” She’d asked.

“I can’t just go to a wedding” He’d grumbled. “Haven’t been able to do that in years, in fact. I have to think about bringing security and all that stuff”

She’d expected he’d say that, so her response was quick. “So bring your bodyguard. I’m sure Julien and his fiance won’t mind”

“And let someone leak a story to the press about how I’m a stuck up asshole who brings a hundred people with him everywhere he goes?” He’d snorted. “No thanks”

She’d rolled her eyes. “I don’t think anyone we grew up with would do that, Kylian”

“How would I know? I haven’t spoken to those people in years”

“I haven’t either.”

“Exactly” He’d said. “Let’s just not go. It’s Ousmane’s birthday party that weekend anyway. Actually, he said to tell you that you should come”

She’d frowned. “So you’d rather go to a party than to your childhood friend’s wedding?”

“It’s just a wedding Y/N” He’d said, his tone weary. “People get married all the time”

She couldn’t believe how mean and dismissive he was being.

“And get divorced all the time” He’d continued, letting out a humorless chuckle. “The stats on that are crazy, actually. Someone should let Julien know”

“What? Kylian, that’s so harsh. Why are you talking like that?” She was starting to get angry now.

“I’m not being harsh. Just honest” He’d said “Look, the last thing I need right now is to go to a public event, okay? I’m sick of people asking me about where I’ll be next year, and I’m sure as hell sick of having a hundred cameras pointed at me”

“Ok, then.” She said, her irritation evident in her voice. “You have fun at the party. I’ll go to the wedding.”

“But–”

“Tell Ousmane happy birthday for me”

He’d paused before responding with a resigned “Fine”

They hung up after that, goodbyes curt. She didn’t know what was going on with him, but he’d been very tired and irritable lately. He called less and less, and took longer to text back whenever she reached out. She suspected it had to do with his contract with PSG, which she knew was nearing its end, but they didn’t speak about things like that. If he had news, he’d tell her. So far he hadn’t said anything, which meant things were probably still up in the air and it was troubling him. She’d chalked it up to that, and was therefore able to quickly move on from the conversation.

The day of the wedding arrived, and Y/N found herself at the crowded venue of the wedding reception, wearing a silky blue dress she’d bought a long time ago but had saved for an occasion like this. She was seated next to Manon, a girl who used to live two doors down from her, and Anna, who she knew was Kylian’s first kiss and who she’d consequently been very envious of as a pre-teen. It was great catching up with the two and reminiscing about the old days. It turned out Manon worked in marketing while Anna was a tattoo artist.

“So, are you and Kylian still friends?” Anna asked, taking a sip from her drink. The toasts had been made, and dinner had been eaten. They were now watching the bride and groom take the floor for their first dance.

“Yeah” She said. “We’re still friends”

“Well, wave him over then. He looks like he’s lost” Anna nodded towards something behind her.

Y/N whirled in her seat. Sure enough there was Kylian, his head down, weaving his way through the tables. People looked up to stare with hushed gasps as he passed by them. Y/N raised her arms to wave, and thankfully his bodyguard noticed and started guiding Kylian towards their table.

“Hi” Kylian said, smiling tightly as he pulled a chair and took a seat.

“Hi” She said. “I thought you weren’t coming”

He shrugged. “You were mad at me”

“And I was right to be” She said, smiling despite herself. He looked handsome, she could tell he’d gotten a fresh cut.

“Sure” He rolled his eyes before turning to their tablemates. Anna and Manon were briefly starstruck as he greeted them, as if they forgot they’d grown up with him. The initial awkwardness wore off quickly though, and before long they were all chatting animatedly.

“Remember when you two–” Manon chuckled, gesturing between Kylian and Anna.

“Ah, yes. When we dated for a whopping two days in the seventh grade” Anna laughed. “I do remember that”

Kylian laughed along with her, shaking his head in embarrassment.

Y/N couldn’t help but snicker. “Two days? What happened?”

Kylian opened his mouth to respond but Anna beat him to it. “We kissed one day, and then the next day was valentine's day. I found out he gave you a card, while I got nothing. So I dumped him”

Y/N gasped, elbowing Kylian. “Oh my god, I remember that. Those anonymous valentine’s cards we did in class. That was the first year someone sent me one, I was dying to find out who it was. I didn’t know it was you”

“Oh, we all knew” Manon said while Anna nodded in agreement.

“Everyone knew he had a crush on you” Anna said. “At least everyone except for me. I found out after the whole card thing”

Kylian said nothing, keeping his eyes trained on the bride and groom as they swayed.

“Okay, so what happened after that?” Y/N pressed. She was flushed. If only her twelve year old self had that information. “Did you two ever talk again?”

Kylian finally turned to her, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Not really. I acted like it never happened” He grimaced at Anna. “Sorry about that, by the way”

Anna laughed. “You were the ultimate heartbreaker, Kylian!”

He chuckled, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that made Y/N’s heart skip. “Yeah, well, I got my karma back, don't worry.”

“What do you mean?” Anna asked curiously.

He hesitated before answering. “I’ve had my fair share of heartbreaks, is all”

Y/N looked down at her lap, idly fiddling with her jewelry. The cynic within her had convinced her that Kylian didn’t care for her in that way. She’d allowed herself to believe he wanted her only for her body, just another fleeting fling in a long line of them. But his behavior over the past couple of months had made it clear that her own insecurities had clouded her judgment. She had the person she cherished most right in front of her—the boy she had loved since she was twelve—and yet she had pushed him away.

As she watched the bride and groom twirl, doubt grew inside of her. Was that kind of love even possible for her? Could she ever meet someone she cared for as deeply as she did for Kylian? The thought felt almost laughable. In her heart of hearts she knew that there would never be anyone else who could fill that space in her life.

Suddenly, the DJ switched to an upbeat song and people started to flock to the dance floor, eager to join the bride and groom. Manon and Anna went off as well, leaving just the two of them at the table.

Y/N nudged Kylian gently.“Dance with me?”

He looked at her with an apologetic look, wordlessly shaking his head no. He looked tense, evidently very aware of being in public.

Y/N visibly deflated. She wanted to be in on all the fun, but Kylian clearly wasn’t up for it. Oh, well. He did come here for me. I don’t need to make him even more uncomfortable, she thought.

She smiled tightly at him, hoping he couldn’t see her disappointment. But of course he did.

He hesitated before grabbing her hand and standing up, pulling her out of her chair. “Let’s go”

She grinned, her heart fluttering as they made their way to the dance floor. Sometimes, when he did things like this purely to make her happy, the walls she’d built around her feelings for him would break down, sending her heart into a joyful spin.

They got to dancing, laughter bubbling between them as she playfully teased him about his abysmal dancing skills.

“You just want me to be publicly humiliated huh?” He grumbled, a mock pout on his face.

Just then, the song changed to a slow ballad. They froze, exchanging uncertain glances. It was only couples around them now, slowly moving to the romantic song playing.

“What now?” Kylian asked, his voice low.

She stepped closer, wordlessly wrapping her hands around his neck. Her breath hitched when she felt his hands land on her hips. They swayed to the song, shifting their eyes away from each other whenever their eye contact got too intense. His fingertips on her hips felt like they weighed tons. She wondered if he wanted to kiss her; she knew she’d let him if he tried. She’d fantasized about it more times than she could count.

Suddenly, she bumped into someone’s back. They’d been so focused on each other they’d completely lost track of their surroundings, it seemed. She turned around, ready to apologize, but froze when she saw who it was.

“Lucas?” She said incredulously.

He had a different haircut than the last time she saw him, but it was definitely him.

Kylian's grip on her tightened slightly. “You’ve got to be kidding me” He muttered under his breath.

Lucas’ eyes lit up in recognition. “Y/N, wow. How are you?”

“I’m good” She said, forcing a smile.“ Crazy running into you here”

He smiled a fake smile, pointing to his dance partner, who she hadn’t noticed until then. “My girlfriend is co-workers with the bride”

She greeted his girlfriend, who was nice enough.

“So you two finally got together, huh?” Lucas said. Y/N could tell he’d had a little bit too much to drink by the way he was swaying on his feet. He leaned closer to Kylian, making it known the next part was just for him. “Better have her on a tight leash, or she’ll start emotionally cheating on you”

Kylian recoiled at his words. “That’s not a bigger red flag than breaking up with a person over the phone, or thinking of women as animals you put a leash on” He gave a pointed look to Lucas’ partner. “He’s in the habit of doing that, by the way”

Poor girl looked like she wanted to disappear.

Y/N felt disgusted. “Can we not do this here?” she said to Lucas. “It’s a wedding.”

Lucas shrugged, unfazed. “Just looking out for the guy. He should know what he’s getting into.”

Kylian stepped closer, a protective stance forming. “She can speak for herself, Lucas. And right now, she’s not interested in your opinion.”

Y/N suddenly noticed that some of the wedding guests had their eyes on them, clearly having noticed Kylian on the dance floor. They had their phones out, no doubt ready to send social media ablaze with pictures of Kylian and a ‘mystery woman’. Without thinking, she stepped away from Kylian and his hands fell away from her hips.

He gave her a hurt look, confusion etched on his face. “Y/N…”

“There you go!” Lucas laughed. “She doesn’t even want you to touch her”

Kylian gave Lucas the dirtiest look she’d ever seen him give to someone. “Fuck you”

He turned on his heel and strode away without waiting for a response, his bodyguard trailing closely behind him adding a dramatic effect.

She made to follow him, but he disappeared into the crowd quickly. She turned to Lucas angrily.

“You’re disgusting, you know”

He opened his mouth to say something, but she stormed off.

She found him taking pictures with a group of people, dimples and charisma on full display. Someone even pulled out a jersey—though she couldn’t quite fathom why someone would bring that to a wedding. Still, he signed it with a gracious smile, effortlessly charming everyone around him.

“Kylian” She said as she stepped closer. “Can we talk?”

“Sure” He said, his smile fading slightly as he excused himself from the group.

“Look, I’m really sorry” She said. “It’s not that I don't want to be seen with you or anything. It’s just –”

“No, it’s fine” He said unconvincingly.

“It’s not fine” She said earnestly. “That was really inconsiderate of me. Especially since you were standing up to that asshole for me. Thank you for that, by the way”

He shrugged. “That’s what he deserved”

My sweet Kylian, she thought.

She enveloped him in a hug, taking in the smell of his cologne. He hugged her back, albeit somewhat hesitantly. She could tell something was still bothering him.

“Kylian, are you okay?” She asked, pulling away. “You’ve seemed off for a while now”

“I’m okay” He said, looking at the ground. “Just a bit stressed is all”

She looked at him empathetically. “Tell me”

“Well, for starters, I shouldn’t be in public right now”

She frowned, feeling guilty. “I know, it’s a lot–”

“No, it’s not just that. That I can prepare myself for.” He said. “It’s because there’s a video announcing my departure from PSG that’s going to be released–” He paused to look at his watch. “-- In about 20 minutes, so…”

She stared incredulously. “What?”

“I said there’s a video–”

“You’re leaving PSG?” She said in a hushed yet raised tone.

“Yes” He affirmed.

“And it’s going to be announced in 20 minutes?”

“Yes” He repeated.

“And you’re in a packed wedding full of proud Parisians” She stated the obvious. “One week after crashing out of the Champions League”

He nodded, then yelped when she smacked his arm.

“Kylian, why the hell did you come?”

“Because I wanted to make you happy” He said simply, rubbing his arm.

She didn’t know whether to smack him again or kiss his beautiful lips. She decided on neither.

“Let’s get out of here then” She said, already dragging him to the exit. “Before the video is released and all hell breaks loose”

“But we haven’t even talked to Julien!”

“You’ll send him an expensive gift” She said, sounding determined.

He chuckled, letting her lead the way.

They were in his car, his driver speeding away from the wedding venue. She watched him look out the window, the city lights casting a yellow glow over his skin. He looked less stressed, but she still thought there was something going on with him.

“So, where are you going?”

“Hmm?” He pulled his eyes away from the window, seemingly jolted out of his thoughts.

“Where are you going to play next?” She asked.

“Take a guess”

“Uh, let’s see, Leeds United?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes. “You know where”

She squealed, launching herself across the backseat to give him yet another hug. “Real Madrid? Oh my god! Congratulations, Ky”

“Thanks” He giggled, hugging her back tightly. “I’m really excited”

“You should be! This is your childhood dream” She pulled back to look at him, her eyes wide with excitement. “Remember that winter you abandoned me to go visit them?”

“Well you’re getting back at me for that now” He said with a sad smile.

“Hm?”

“You’re moving back here” He clarified. “While I’m going there. You’re the one doing the abandoning this time”

“Oh” She said, understanding. “About that, I, uh–I’m not moving anymore”

He froze. “What?”

“ I mean, I was going to, but… things changed. I got a promotion at my job, and the pay raise means I actually get more than what I’d earn at the new job here, so I told them I’m not gonna go for it”

He lets out a strange laugh. It’s near hysterical, but it stops as abruptly as it starts. “So you’re not moving back? You’re staying in Madrid?”

“Yes” She said slowly. “I’m staying in Madrid”

“Cool” He fidgets in his seat, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest “Great”

He looked out the window again, then turned back to her, his face breaking into a huge grin.

“What?” She giggled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just really happy you’re staying”

“Why?” She knew why, she just wanted to hear him say it.

“I wanted better for Luna” He exhaled loudly, as if this was a concerning issue he’d thought long and hard about. “ I hear the cat food here sucks”

She burst out laughing. She didn’t know what, but she could tell something just shifted between them.

“You know, I haven’t been back in a while” He said. “To Bondy”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” He said thoughtfully. “You just reminded me, when you mentioned that time I went to visit Madrid”

“Why don’t we stop by?” She said, her eyes lighting up.

He paused for a moment, contemplating.

“I don’t have anywhere else to be. Let’s do it” He said finally.

He told his driver, and they went on their way. They sat in silence for most of the drive to the suburbs, both lost in their own thoughts.

“Oh!” Kylian’s eyes lit up suddenly. He pulled something from the console. “I forgot to give you this”

“What is it?”

“Belated graduation gift” He said as he handed her a small gift bag. She’d graduated from her masters program a couple weeks ago.

She beamed, pulling out a jewelry box from the bag. “You didn’t have to” She cooed.

“Liar”

“You’re right, I love gifts” She grinned.

Her eyes widened when she revealed the pair of earrings. “ Kylian, wow”

She looked at him in disbelief as she held up the jewelry delicately. “They’re so beautiful”

“I got them from Cameroon, when I visited last year” He explained.

There was a card nestled amongst the wrapping of the earrings, small enough that she almost missed it.

“Oh, there’s a card” She said as she picked it up.

Kylian’s eyes widened, reaching out to take it from her hand. “Wait, no—”

She leaned away from him to avoid his grasp, her smile almost fading as she read what was written:

“Y/N,

I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but right now I’m in Cameroon, and I’m heartbroken.

Maman thinks I should call you. Tchaga and all the others think I’m annoying because all I do is sulk.

We visited a traditional market today. I saw these earrings, and I thought of you immediately. They’re made by female artisans, which I think you’ll like.

I love you, I think it’s ruining my life.

–K”

She looked up, the last sentence reverberating in her head, almost drowned out by the pounding of her heart.

She didn’t know what to say, just looked at Kylian, who was avoiding her gaze.

“I forgot that was there” He said quietly.

The car came to a halt just then, and Kylian’s driver let them know that they’d arrived at their destination.

They found themselves at the park they frequented as children, where they spent countless afternoons and evenings. They took a seat on a bench, facing a gaggle of children playing football. The park was otherwise empty save for a couple other wanderers, which was unusual for a summer’s evening. Y/N wasn’t complaining though; fewer people meant less chances of Kylian being spotted.

They seemed out of place in their formal clothes; her in her silk maxi dress, and him in his suit. She stole glances of his side profile as they watched the kids’ game, marveling at his beauty: his big brown eyes, the strong nose he’d inherited from his mother, and those pink, pouty lips. More than 10 years of knowing him and yet he still managed to take her breath away.

He turned to her suddenly. “What’s on your mind?”

She decided to be honest. “I was thinking about how pretty you are”

“Pretty?” He chuckled.

“Yeah. Pretty”

“Don’t think anyone’s used that word to describe me before” He said.

“Well I have” She said. “Many times before – in my head”

“Me too,” He admitted, his gaze warm. “I’ve called you pretty. Also many times —in my head.”

She grinned at him. It was impossible not to. “Speaking of pretty, I want to try those earrings!”

She pulled them from their box, quickly removing the ones she was already wearing and carefully putting on the new pair. Kylian took an exaggerated double take, his eyes widening. “Qué hermosa!”

She snorted. “ Working on your Spanish, I see”

“I’m already fluent, cherie” He winked at her as he pulled out his phone and quickly snapped a picture of her.

A loud cheer erupted from the kids; someone had just scored a goal. Y/N and Kylian briefly turned their attention back to the game, smiling at the infectious joy of the kids as they rushed to one another for a group hug. The celebrations gradually faded, and the children returned to their positions to continue the game.

She swallowed hard. “Did you mean that?”

“Mean what?” Kylian dragged his eyes away from the game. It didn’t matter if it was being played by a bunch of 10 year olds, football was still his favorite thing. It was quite endearing, actually.

“What you wrote on the card” She said quietly.

“Yes” He met her eyes. “I do”

“What did you mean– what do you mean when you said it’s ruining your life?” She asked.

He took a deep breath before answering. He had a pained look on his face. “It’s just – I don’t know, it feels like torture sometimes, not having you. First it was the whole time you were with Lucas when I was pining after you, and then it felt like I had you, but you ran away. Let me tell you, those couple months after that when we weren’t speaking were the worst of my life.” He took a shaky breath. “And whatever we are now, just friends, it’s never going to be enough”

“Kylian..”

“And I was speaking to Papa” He continued, ignoring her. He scooted closer to her, eyes so intense. “He told me to take a leap of faith. To cut out all the bullshit and tell you I love you. So here I am, I guess. I want you to tell me what you truly want. Not what you think you should want, or what other people want for you. What you really, really want. Because if it’s me? I’m all in, Y/N”

He took her hand, gently opening up her palm. “Because you’ve had my heart here” He traced his index finger over her palm. “Ever since I met you at my birthday party all those years ago. It’s always been you for me. There will never be anyone else”

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, lifting his hand that was on hers to her lips and kissing his trembling fingers. “Just so you know, I’ve wanted you as long as I’ve known you. And you’re right, maybe all of the excuses I was telling you and myself were lies. Because I was scared. I thought if we did this and it didn’t work out, I’d end up losing you forever. I didn’t want that, Ky. But how would we know if we don’t try? We have to try, right?” She paused. “I really want to try”

Kylian let out a relieved laugh at her words. They were so close to each other, their faces mere inches apart. He cupped her face with his hands, caressing her cheeks in a way only he could. She closed her eyes, basking in his touch. She felt gentle kisses on each of her eyelids.

“Yes” She heard him murmur. “I want to try”

They closed what little distance was between their lips, kissing passionately. All the tension, all the unspoken feelings that had been brewing for ages seemed to dissolve in that moment. It felt like releasing air after holding her breath for a long time. It felt like relief.

“Wait, there’s someone taking pictures” Kylian muttered as he pulled away.

“I don’t care” She said, chasing his lips with hers.

To her annoyance, he pulled away again. “But you–”

“I said I don’t care” She mumbled, kissing him again. She felt him smile against her lips.

They left the park after the game ended, satisfied and at peace. Hands intertwined, lips swollen from kissing. She thought about the kids that they used to be, the ones who used to run to the very same park everyday after school. Oh how they’ve grown, how they’ve changed.

Inside the car, she turned to him, her heart steadying after a long while of drumming loudly. “So, what now?”

His gaze was unwavering. “ No more running away.”

"No more running away" She repeated softly, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes.

A/N: Aaand thats it folks. hope you like this last part <3 i'm working on an epilogue though so stay tuned for that. as always lmk what you think in the comments or in my inbox. thank you for reading!

tags: @kyliansonlygf @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @ariesmai @edgyficuselastica

#kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian imagines #kylian fanfic #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappé imagine

96 notes · View notes

thevillainswhore · 2 years ago

Text

Perverse Desires

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Assigned an undercover mission, you’re partnered up with the bane of your existence, Bucky, to pay a visit to a s-ex club. What could go wrong?

Warnings: Smut (s-ex club, oral f receiving, f-ingering, nipple play, voyeruism, exhibitionism, degradation)

A/N: unbeta’d, dividers by saradika

Um, idk where this came from tbh, enjoy tho x

“Are you sure I’m the right person for this, Cap?”

The mission brief Steve handed over to you had stunned you in all honesty. You had been on numerous undercover missions for the team in the past, so there was no doubt in your mind or anyone else’s that you were capable for the job. It was your speciality - having a knack for being precise with discrete sufficiency and perfect timing to be able to get in and get out without making a fuss. But, this was totally new, even for you.

“Agent, I have no concern whether you’re fit for this job. I know it’s… different.” Steve clears his throat and you know this is as awkward for him as it is for you. “But, you were highly recommended and you have a- um, how d-do I say this? You, er-“

Tony interrupts Steve’s rambling from his seat in the corner of the office you were all situated in, decidingly having enough of watching his co-worker stumble from embarrassment.

“What Captain prude is trying to say, sweetheart, is that you have the right look for the job - great features, killer body - y’know? You’ll draw the target out no problem.” He finishes his explanation by throwing a wink paired with a smug smirk at Steve’s flushed cheeks.

“Yes. Thank you, Tony.” The grimace on Steve’s face has you desperate to laugh at his unease, but you manage to keep it in, eager to get out of this office soon as possible. “Your skills and experience are also compatible with the nature of this mission, Agent - it’s imperative we don’t mess this up.”

Skimming over the mission brief once more, you take in the role you have to play. An exclusive member of a popular underground sex club that’s been flagged up by Fury for suspicion of covering up a huge drug ring. Target ‘Antonio Maxwell’ - the leader the Avengers were looking to take down. While it wasn’t a world-ending level threat, the new drug allegedly supplied by Maxwell had already implemented significant damage and a high number of mysterious death cases to those in contact with him, concerning enough for higher ups to ask for help with this.

That’s where you came in.

You had enough background knowledge of ring leaders and crime bosses to call point on this - having worked undercover multiple times in this specific area over your years as an agent. Knowing how men like this worked and their strategies to cover their tracks was your forte. This would be a piece of cake for you. Yeah, the sex club element was a new challenge for you, but you were up for it.

“Okay boys. I’m in.”

Pleased hums and mumbled chatter from Steve and Tony as they finished up the paperwork with your agreement faded to the distance as you read till the bottom of the page of the brief - a new detail you must have missed before catching your eye and making you frown in confusion. Lifting your gaze to the men, you question the two of them one more time.

“Um- guys, it says here I’ll be working with a partner? Can I ask who it is?”

And just as Steve and Tony throw each other a worried look that has your eyes growing wide with realisation, you hear the door click open, a tall, beefy figure joining the room to announce his presence.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

“Sorry I’m late Punk, what did’ya need?”

Bucky Barnes.

“Y’know you don’t have to look so happy to see me dollface, I know how much you love spending time with me.”

Hell didn’t have shit on this.

Barnes is the literal bane of your existence. Constantly a pain in your ass since he had nothing better to do with his days than annoy you. Avenger you may not be, but the amount of time you still have to spend around him is ridiculous. Training, gym, drills. He just seems to be in your presence 24/7 and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was doing it on purpose. His teasing and childish remarks at your capability to do your job always has you biting your tongue around him. Frustration leading you to walk away from what you were previously doing, or causing you to snap in anger and scream at him in front of the other recruits - smug smile plastered over the bastard’s face knowing he’d won, yet again.

Bucky was unbearable.

You are also possibly the only one in the entire Shield initiative, who hadn’t fallen for his charm or swooned over him - women and men actually falling over their feet just at the sight of him - never mind what they did to actually have a scrap of his attention.

Sickening.

And so you believe it’s because of this reason, Barnes has made it his business to make sure every day is torture for you. His fragile masculinity unable to comprehend that you’re just not into him. Not desperate enough to whittle your entire being to admiring him.

Even if he did have them ocean blue eyes you occasionally got lost in.

Where the hell did that come from?

“Just because we’re paired together Barnes, doesn’t mean we have to speak - let’s just get this mission done with and go back home. Sooner this is over the better.”

Bucky’s mock gasp at your scolding only boils your blood hotter.

“Okay, first of all, ouch, I thought we were friends, baby.” His low chuckle and his pet names have you fighting the war going on between your cunt and your head.

“And second of all, we kinda have to talk. It’s part of the mission - the whole sex crazed relationship we got going on to be exclusive members of the club, remember? Silly bunny, I know your head gets a little fuzzy sometimes, but catch up dollface, you’re slacking.”

Okay, that shouldn’t be making my panties wet.

Huffing a frustrated sigh and ignoring his efforts to rile you up, you snatch the mission brief out of the compartment of the car and place it over your legs to read it over one more time before reaching your destination. Not giving Bucky the satisfaction of seeing your thighs rub together to stop the ache in your pussy and the butterflies in your stomach.

“There’s a good girl.”

Fuck.

The tacky neon signs and the disco lights of the bar you arrive at almost give you a headache worse than Barnes did on a bad day - you know this is a front to their downstairs adult party.

Stepping out of the car in your knee high leather boots is a task, but you make it look effortless as you smoothly swing your legs round and stand up, shuffling your tight, mini black dress down to cover as much of your ass as possible. Your outfit had to match the vibe of the character you were playing and you didn’t sell her short.

Bucky, however, got the better end of the stick in his full black suit. Top three buttons of his shirt undone to reveal his broad chest with a smattering of hair.

Stupid fucking Barnes and his stupid, slutty chest.

Closing your eyes and inhaling a deep breath to calm your headspace for the mission, you fail to notice the silent ex-assassin creep up beside you and whisper in your ear, “Last minute nerves, dollface?”.

Your eyes open wide in shock at the feel of his breath against your neck, goosebumps running down your arms and you push down the urge to shiver. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, do you mind? A bit of personal space would be nice please”, turning your head towards Bucky, you realise too late how close he is to you, noses almost bumping together as his intense gaze pins you to your spot.

“Can’t start getting all jumpy on me now, baby bunny. Thought you were good at your job.”

You can nearly feel the motion of his lips moving as he speaks. How easy it would be to just move that tiny bit closer to finally know if they’re as soft and plump as they look.

You’re better than this, he’s making you look weak - that’s his plan.

Your leather heels click as you walk away from him, tearing your body out of danger and berating yourself for acting just like those back at the compound, the lovesick recruits who put Bucky Barnes on a pedestal. You would not be like them. Not in a million years.

You don’t see Bucky cock his head as he watches your hips sway side to side, but you definitely hear his low whistle in reference to your ass - his grunt of laughter following soon after when you stick your middle finger up over your shoulder at him.

Security protocol of the club doesn’t take as long as you thought it would, the tech department handling your fake identity documents with the utmost care to ensure there would be no issues.

Now, you stood at the ominous red door at the end of the hallway, about to be let into the most prestigious sex club known. You couldn’t say you were totally ready, the natural fear of the unknown rattling your psyche. Yet, you didn’t let it show. Face stoic with a subtle sultry undertone to enhance your allure.

Bucky’s coded knocks on the door echoes through the hallway, his cold metal hand snaking over your waist and squeezing the meat of your hip. If the door hadn't opened as quick you would have stomped on his foot.

Would of served the fucker right.

And soon enough, with a private spoken password, only sent to the invited elite, you were in.

Holy. Fuck.

Had Bucky not kept his arm around your waist you would have fell flat on your ass.

Everywhere you looked had your heart beat erratically speeding up. Cocks. Tits. Pussys. All of it was on show without a care in the world. Threesomes, gangbangs, doms and subs. Any sexual position or kink your mind could conjure up was playing out in front of you - the glow of the red strobe lights highlighting the sweat, spit and cum covering numerous naked bodies.

The music blasting over the speakers had no chance of silencing the high pitched moans and needy whimpers of pleasure. Whips smacking against skin and leather cuffs clinking against railings - you didn’t know how to process your senses going haywire.

“What’s a matter, dollface? Don’t tell me you haven’t seen a cock before.”

You don’t think you could have suppressed the tingles shooting through your nerves at Bucky’s use of the word ‘cock’, the image already engraved in your mind of you squirming in his hold as he tells you his filthy thoughts.

Bitch, now is not the time.

Right, you had a mission to complete and you couldn’t fuck this up.

“Shut the fuck up Barnes. We didn’t come here to fuck around and argue, so you scour the left side of the room and I’ll take the right - if you see Maxwell then communicate through the coms.” Without listening to what would without a doubt be another jab at you from Bucky, you stepped away and left him alone, praying that a moment away from him would clear your head.

It had been at least an hour of searching, still no sign of Maxwell or at least any type of drug dealings you could snap a picture of for evidence. The ache ever present in your feet from the six inch leather boots. You had scoured the entirety of your side, ignoring the clapping of wet skin and grunts of feral men. You just needed a minute to rethink your strategy and come up with a new plan - something worthy enough to draw Maxwell out of his hiding spot for the night.

Stepping into the nearest open plan room, you lean against the wall and rub your temples in an attempt to get your brain flowing. Not noticing the growing crowd gathering to watch the spectacle on the sofa in the middle of the room. You really hadn’t paid attention to the man laying a woman down and spreading her legs for everyone to get a good view, too preoccupied with your own situation.

It only registered what was happening when you heard the first breathy whine of a woman, slowly lifting your head to witness a man licking her pussy in languid strokes, thumbs holding her folds open to suck her clit.

Shit, this is really happening.

It also occurred to you that the woman kind of looked like you - same hair colour and body type, enough to have you imagining it was you in her position.

You swallowed the growing knot in your throat, the arousal pooling in your lacy underwear creating a sticky mess. Chest heaving up and down as the scene before you had your breaths coming in heavier.

What the fuck am I doing?

You had never counted yourself as a voyeurist. You most definitely were not inexperienced and had experimented plenty in the bedroom with partners, but this was a total new sensation for you. Watching someone else bask in the pleasure their partner was bringing them, legs trembling uncontrollably. It was really doing it for you.

Without permission, you found yourself stepping closer, greedy to be just that tiny bit nearer to the main event. Your mouth stayed open as you placed your hands on both of your arms, licking your lips with raw need.

As you got a closer look at the man, you took in his mid length brunette hair, tied up in a bun at the back of his head. He had a broad stocky build, beefy and probably big enough to tower over you should he stand up. Wait…

He looks like Bucky.

You shifted on the balls of your feet at your new epiphany, shaking in anticipation on whether to stay and watch or leave.

Surely it couldn’t hurt to watch a little, right?

Bucky was growing fed up with the lack of leads on his hunt for information. No sightings of drugs and no clue where the leader of the drug ring was. He guesses you were still searching on your end too, a silent line on his com alerting him you’d found nothing as well.

He should probably go check to see how you’re doing.

While Bucky knows how irritated he makes you, it wasn’t his intention to make you dislike him, believe it or not. In fact, he had the biggest crush on you and just didn’t know how to deal with it. It’s true he really is used to most people gawking in lust over him and the endless invitations to go out for a drink. So when he first observed your blatant disregard for him, it sent him into a frenzy, powerless to his instant attraction for you. He was desperate to get a reaction out of you, even if it had you wanting to pummel him into the ground.

You’re cute when you’re angry, sue him.

And he’s not stupid enough to not comprehend the tension between you, you’re just unwilling to give in - don’t want the shame of contradicting yourself and falling for him like the rest of them.

Silly little bunny, you’d give in soon enough.

So imagine his surprise when he silently walks into the next room to find you there, hand trembling against your neck as you watch a man sloppily eat a woman’s pussy, teeth biting your lower lip to stop any noise from coming out of your mouth.

His naughty little minx, getting off by watching other people fuck. He was impressed.

Bucky wouldn’t have pegged you as a little voyeur. He can’t say he’s disappointed though.

It’s times like this where Bucky praises his super hearing from the serum, low chatter from the upper floor has him pulled out of his thoughts of you and sneaking a glance up to see a middle aged man leaning over the open plan railing and looking directly out at you. Maxwell.

Fuck, he was onto you.

Options speed through Bucky's head as he quickly concocts a plan to kill two birds with one stone. Throwing the target off your scent and getting to have some fun with you.

Time to play, babydoll.

Glued to the scene in front of you, your surroundings blur, mission forgotten as you focus on the sounds of the woman’s sloppy wet cunt, obscene squelching from the man’s thick fingers that fuck her pussy and her juices spraying out.

All the more reason for the loud gasp that escapes you as a cold hard hand wraps around your throat and drags you back into a firm chest, the whir of fingers squeezing the sides to slightly cut off your airway. Warm breath tickling the curve of your neck as electricity shoots through your body.

“Who’d have thought a stuck up little bitch like you enjoys something as dirty as this, huh?”

Shit.

“You’re a filthy fuckin’ slut, you know that baby? Y’know how disgusting you are getting off on this?” You can’t help crossing your legs to try and create some friction to ease the ache in your cunt and the needy whimpers that echo across the room even with Bucky's hand choking you - blending with the slick noise of the woman’s wet pussy on the sofa.

You weren't banking on your mission partner catching you in the devious act, anxiety bleeding over you as he finds out how shameless you are and how much you want him.

A large number of the growing crowd have turned to watch the display of you and Bucky. Humiliation washing over you from his degradation and how exposed you feel.

Bucky hadn’t felt this horny for as long as he could remember, his hard cock straining against his trousers over how much he’s enjoying turning you to putty in his hands for everyone to see.

You’re mine, little bunny. Even if everyone can see the dumb fucked out mess I’ve reduced you to.

“C’mon dollface, you’re normally so feisty, where’s them claws you like to scratch me with, kitten?”

His condescending words only cease to turn you into a bigger puddle, unable to get your words out without moaning or stuttering, “B-bucky, p-please.”

Even though Bucky wants to hold out longer, he can’t help but bring his other arm up from his firm hold on your waist up to your tits, toying with your peaked nippes over your dress.

Somehow, the little shit knew they were sensitive.

His grip on your throat moves up to hold your jaw, making sure you’re still watching the other couple play as he tweaks your nippes, rubbing his thumb over them and squeezing your tits. He fucking loved it. The broken moans you no longer care to keep down break free as drool drips down your chin.

You didn't think you could like being spoken to the way Bucky does, his harsh words but soothing tone has your head fuzzy and your mind empty, no coherent thoughts other than the man behind you.

Your ass rubs back onto Bucky’s crotch as you squirm in his hold, the throaty rumble he lets out only worsening the throb of your cunt.

“Y’know they kinda look like us don’t ya think, bunny baby? Is that what has you so fuckin’ gone, huh? You wanna know how good I’d eat your pretty little pussy?” He starts to grind his cock into the curve of your ass, the thin material of your dress leaving no guesses to how thick he really is.

It’s helpless as your head flops back onto Bucky's shoulder, boneless in his arms. You’ve forgotten about everyone else in the room with you, only enough room in your head to process who’s making you feel so good.

The tingling of your swollen clit has you wailing needy moans, the lack of stimulation edging you and forcing tears from your eyes.

“Oh dollface, you’re crying now? You need me to make all those tingles go away?”

You couldn’t nod your head fast enough, dragging his hand to place it over your soaked panties under your dress with pleas whispered against his neck. He’d punish you for that in normal circumstances, but right now he really wants to see you cum.

His warm fingers gently start rubbing your pulsing clit, the added friction of your lace underwear making your eyes roll to the back of your head and high pitched whimpers to fill the room. Gyrating your hips to follow his motion, you can feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter, so close to that release you’re internally begging for.

“You’re so fuckin’ desperate, bunny, my cocks rock fuckin’ solid for ya, bet you could take this fat cock in your tight little cunt.”

You can feel the brink of your orgasm on the precipice from his words, his Brooklyn accent spilling through as he continues to rub his huge cock against your back.

But it’s the switch from rubbing to repeatedly tapping your bundle of nerves as he licks the trail of sweat from your neck to groan in your ear that makes you finally let go.

“Now, fuckin’ cum for me before I leave your pathetic ass begging for me.”

Your legs give out as you suck lungfuls of air back in, eyes cross eyed as you see stars from how powerful your orgasm is. You don’t think you’ve ever cum that hard before in your life, and you’d crawl to Bucky on all fours to beg for it again.

Eventually, your high slowly descends and you come back down to earth, body limp but twitching with spasms. Should you even try to take a step forward you know you’d fall flat on your face, so you're grateful for Bucky keeping a tight embrace around you and cooing shushes into your ear as you muster a fucked out smile on your face.

You don’t care to see if anyone’s still around, if the couple that turned you on and got you into this state in the first place are still going at it.

Bucky, however, takes a peak back up to Maxwell, knowing he’d watched the whole show and his worries had been reassured by your brazen display that you weren’t suspicious. He catches the back of his coat, walking down the steps and into a back room.

The smirk grows back on his face as he takes one hand away from your body, your whine of displeasure all the more satisfying for what comes next, he won’t be able to see your face but that’s okay - he’s more than happy to feel your reaction instead.

Sucking his fingers from your juices that are still running down your leg, he presses the button on the com to send an update on status to backup and Steve.

“Target's position secured. Distraction followed through and on route to prepare for arrest, over.”

Your eyes rip open from your hazy daydream as you soak in Bucky’s update to the rest of the team. Blood running cold when it finally processes his motive for your little show.

“My my little bunny, I gotta say I’m impressed you folded so easily for lil’ old me.” Bucky’s murmur against your head vibrates through your entire being, but you can’t bring yourself to move an inch.

His chuckle has fury bubbling up to the surface, yet you’re speechless as he leaves a gentle kiss to your temple and departs with his final words.

“Didn’t know you were a squirter either, doll. I had fun, looking forward to the next time too. But let’s go catch Maxwell for now, yeah? I’ll even keep hush of your unprofessionalism on the job.”

You can only stare as he strolls towards the back room where you can only assume Maxwell is, whistling a tune to himself as he tucks his hands in his pockets, uncaring to the salacious acts of sex still occurring around you.

You’re so fucked.

A/N: I have to thank my angel baby @rookthorne for the inspiration in writing this after one of our little domme sessions 👀 loves you so much kotenok 💗 thank you for reading lovelies!!

906 notes · View notes

faerunnn · 1 year ago

Text

Memories

(GIF found Here! :D )

Hello, so i am back. With something a lil angsty, a lil fluffy. You guys should know the drill by now. Please let me know your thoughts :D

Astarion x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2464

It has been quite some time since the battle of Baldur's Gate. You all went your separate ways, occasionally catching up with one another but as time and lives went on, slowly drifting more apart. Everyone was slowly finding the lives they wanted to live. Some moved away from the city, wanting to forget it all. Some stayed around. Including you. Baldur's gate was the only place you ever truly was able to call home. And while your wanderlust had taken you to many places, you always found your way back to the city.

You sometimes wondered how the others were doing. Wandering what could have been, wondering what was never meant to be. You miss your old companions sometimes. But their happiness was what kept you smiling when thinking back on your adventures. There was barely any room for heartache when everyone got what they wanted. Everyone but you.

After the battle against the Elder brain you and Astarion never fully established what it was that the two of you had. The connection that was shared. There was something there, for sure. But the both of you being too stubborn to talk about it, acknowledge it. That same stubbornness led to the both of you drifting apart. Slowly but surely, until you stopped hoping that he might show up at your doorstep. Stopped visiting his place, stopped meeting at the usual spots. Your pride got in the way of your happiness, once again. The one time you felt like you truly had met your equal. A ‘’soulmate’’, if those were even real. You beat yourself up about for a while, until time got in the way.

It has been over a year since you last saw each other. And it wasn't until tonight that you went back to one of the taverns you and your companions would occasionally meet to catch up. You rather not go there but some of your co-workers insisted you’d tag along for a drink after a very long work day. And it had been a long day indeed. You wanted to just go home, take a bath and curl up in your sheets and sleep for days. But one drink couldn't hurt, right?

The party all gathered outside of the office and you all walked toward the familiar pub. A whiff of alcohol and sweat already hit your nose as you got closer. It must be a busy night. Maybe a famous bard was playing tonight. The music did sound quite lovely opposed to other nights of horrible out of tune lutes being played inside the tavern walls. You all gathered a small table in the corner of the main hall, scooting closer together and just catching up on life while enjoying a somewhat decent drink. The drinks have never been great here, but that somehow made you feel even more nostalgic of the many tears, laughs and memories shared in this space. You wondered if there was a way to get everyone back here sometime soon.

‘’So,’’ one of your male co-workers turned to you. ‘’What is it truly like being the hero of Baldur's gate?” A small smirk present on his lips and a playful look swirling in his eyes. All of your co-workers knew this was a topic you’d rather not talk about. Not because you're ashamed, but there was no need to brag about all the lives it had cost to save the city, guilty or innocent. You swallowed and gave him a tight smile before taking a rather large gulp of your drink. The alcohol is now slowly starting to kick in.

‘’Well, I suppose it is.. Flattering. I wouldn't consider myself a hero. But i am glad the city is somewhat safe again.’’ you said. Not really wanting to dig deep into the topic at all, even if you were slowly starting to feel more tipsy.

‘’Oh, come on! There must be something to tell. What about the tadpole? You were supposed to be dead, respectfully.’’ he carefully said.

‘’Yes, I was. But I am glad I am not. Though I wouldn't recommend anyone carrying a worm inside their head, it did save my life in a way. The experience itself was rather unusual, I suppose. I don't think there's anything I can compare it to.’’ as you start talking you hear a bit more commotion on the other side of the room. But from your angle you can't tell what's going on. Probably another tavern fight between two drunk sailors. Wouldn't be the first time. After a quick glance that way you quickly return to your conversation.

‘’What about your companions? Do you still see them?’’ A female co-worker asked you nervously.

‘’Uhm, we uhm. We occasionally see each other yes.’’ Not a complete lie. But these people didn't need to know the whole truth. ‘’Does anyone want another drink?’’ you quickly ask before any more questions on the topic could arise. You get up from the table and walk up to the bar to order another round for the whole table. Your last, you decided. It has been a long day and sleep was going to creep up on you soon. You look back at your colleagues while you wait and reminisce about the times that table was filled with your companions instead.

After a short while you take the drinks back to the table and join in on the conversation that had been started while you were gone when all of a sudden the commotion rose again. But this time it was loud, and people started getting out of the way. It was then that you noticed it was indeed a fight. While you were about to roll your eyes and take a big gulp of your drink you recognized a certain mop of white hair and pointy ears. Oh god. Your eyes widened. Your body froze. It was him. Fighting an orc almost twice his size.. In the middle of a tavern. He was wearing an all black outfit, which looked almost too good on his body. A dagger held to the neck of the orc as he held him in place. Reminding you of the time the two of you had met. He really hasn't changed much.

You got up from where you were sitting and got a little closer to the situation, trying to blend in with the crowd whilst figuring out what the hell had happened. You saw coins scattered on the table, drinks that once had been in tankards spilled over the floor and chairs.

‘’You better watch your damn mouth around here, elf.’’ The orc said. Trying to push himself back to his feet. ‘’Others might not show you the same mercy.’’ as he pushed Astarion from his frame, he got up. Gathered some of his coins and turned around to leave. Whilst Astarion did the same. You looked back at your colleagues and they were too caught up in their own conversations to notice you left the table again. You made a split decision, not even really thinking while your legs just carried you out of the tavern the same way he left.

He was already well out in the street again while the darkness of the night was about to lure him back into the shadows. You almost panicked, you didn't even know what you were going to say to him once you confronted him with your presence. You just let your feet carry you.

The weather had changed from a somewhat chilly afternoon to a rainy evening. Making your vision even worse. You kept on walking until you reached a crossroads. He has slipped from your vision, unknown which turn he had made, you looked around once more. Hoping to catch a glimpse of his frame. Alas, he was gone. You sighed in defeat as you wanted to turn back around, making your way back to the tavern. Coming up with an excuse as to why your clothes and hair are drenched. A small tear slipped from your eye, blending in perfectly with the raindrops that had been collecting on your cheeks. You looked down at your clothes, now completely soaked. But you didn't care anymore. Something in you stirred. A feeling you had buried deep within the depths of your heart. A flame reigniting slowly. Love. a feeling you had not felt in a while. Even only seeing him, so briefly, it brought everything back up. You looked up into the sky, closed your eyes and took a deep breath before finally turning around, walking back. Maybe you needed this. A very cruel way of the universe telling you to let him go. Fully letting him go. No more small hopes, no more wishing he would magically be on your doorstep. He slipped from your grasp tonight. Maybe rekindling was never an option to begin with.

You took a few steps back toward the tavern, hands wrapped around your own body to somewhat comfort yourself in a way. No more tears were going to be shed on the topic. It had been too long. You deserved happiness, peace. You had fought your battles. And now it was time to find your place in this life.

‘’What's a lady like yourself doing alone on the streets at this hour?’’ a creepy voice behind you said all of a sudden. You quickly froze, and looked around. Trying to find the body that matched the voice. You found none. You quickly tried to make your way back to the tavern but realized it would still be quite the distance. And with the rain clouding your vision, you didn't really know if you were walking in the right direction. Panic rushed through your body as you tried to make out which way to go, not wanting to get lost. Suddenly a hand made its way around your waist. Roughly pulling your body into a much larger frame. You tried to get yourself out of the grasp of the stranger but you were unable to, he was too strong. You looked over your shoulder and recognised him. It was the orc from the tavern fight.

‘’This is a dangerous place for someone like you, you know. I should bring you somewhere safe.’’ he said, getting awfully close to your neck. He held you in a tight embrace, there was no way to get out of his grasp. ‘’I know just the place to treat a nice lady like yourself exactly the way she deserves to be treated. All the things i am going to do to yo–’’ He couldn't finish his sentence, as he started sputtering and coughing up blood. Covering your clothes and hair in drops of his bodily liquids as his body went limp behind you, you quickly got out of his grasp and stumbled forward when your foot got caught on a piece of cobblestone. You stumbled forward and cried out when your body hit the ground, hard. You took a quick peek over your shoulder whilst crawling away and saw the orcs body lay there, lifeless and cold. A tall frame looming over his body. The figure then bent down and retrieved a dagger from the orcs neck. He wiped it clean on his clothes and slit it back into the sheath on his belt. You were terrified. You see the frame walking closer toward you as you try to get up and run away again. There were times where murder didn't bother you. But that life was in your past now. This was not the reality you wanted to live out anymore. Too much blood had been shed by your hands.

As you were trying to regain your balance you noticed that your wrist had taken too much of your weight when you fell. You didn't know if it was broken or just badly sprained, but it hurt like hell either way. The frame got closer to you and that's when you noticed.

The white hair, pale skin. Red eyes that had never been more aflame than they were in this moment. It was Astarion. He saved your life. You gasped when he was close enough to fully be in your vision. The very dim street lights are not doing him justice. He had never looked more beautiful than he did in this moment. His curly hair now sticking to his face from the rain, concern in his eyes. You both stared at each other in silence for a moment before you took a step toward him and pulled him into your frame. A soft sob leaving your lips as you felt him slowly wrap his arms around you, pulling you so close, like he was never going to let you go again.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ he said softly after staying in the moment for a while. You look up at him in confusion. ‘’I am sorry that I didn't try hard enough. I am sorry that I never really told you how I felt. I am sorry that–’’ before he could even continue his unnecessary apologies you kissed him. Softly, so tenderly. Hands cupping his cheeks. He was taken aback by your action but quickly melted into the kiss. A hand going up to the back of your neck, one lingering on your lower back. You pull back from him for a second and look into his eyes, trying to see if there's any form of hesitation in his stare. But there isn't.

‘’You don't have to say sorry. If anyone has to apologize it is me. I should've told you how I felt. I should've made the effort too. I guess this is on both of us. But I want you to know there has not been a day where I haven't thought about you.’’ you say. ‘’There are many things that have stopped me in the past. Many things I feared. But I am done being scared.’’

You look into his eyes. A small smile crept on his lips while you were talking. One you have missed so much, one you had been hoping to see every day for the past year. But fear has gotten the best of you. Your ego being too fragile, too weak. A small young girl, frightened of abandonment, had been making decisions in your life to make the risk as small as possible. But you were done with being afraid. You would rather risk the fear than live the rest of your days alone.

Astarion pulled you close again and placed a small kiss on your forehead.

‘’This is where our future begins.’’

And it was then that you fully realized, he is more of yourself than you are. Whatever our souls are made of, his and yours were the same.

#astarion x mc #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 angst #bg3 oc #astarion romance #astarion baldurs gate #astarion angst #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x you #tav x astarion #bg3 astarion

388 notes · View notes

charcoalhawk · 2 months ago

Text

Taste of home (tastes like a knuckle sandwich)

Phantom Truce 2024 gift for @auroraphantasma !

I went with the prompt; Some interaction with Pandora! We don't have enough of those!

Summary: Pandora was not a ghost that felt the tug of the living world often. She knew of others in ages past who described it as an insatiable itch at their core, poking and prodding at them until they were driven to seek out one of the naturally occurring portals that appeared throughout the zone.

But every so often, she too felt the itch.

Warnings: none

Pandora was not a ghost that felt the tug of the living world often. She knew of others in ages past who described it as an insatiable itch at their core, poking and prodding at them until they were driven to seek out one of the naturally occurring portals that appeared throughout the zone.

But every so often, she too felt the itch.

It crept up upon her over the span of a month. She would be telling stories of her great triumphs to a gaggle of young ghosts and suddenly she could smell the salty sea of home. Visiting the Yetti’s and catching up on their new dead and suddenly she could taste her favorite fruit as if she was holding it in her hands.

After the third time she looked down in confusion at her extra set of arms, Pandora realized she was in desperate need of life.

Going to her grave would be ideal. Seeing her city breathing just as it had when she was alive would undoubtedly settle her core better than any battle.

But simply existing outside the ghost zone for a few hours would do her some good.

For a while she debated searching for a naturally occurring portal, but those were far and few between, it would be far easier and straightforward to simply go through the new ever present man-made portal that led to Amity Park.

She followed the pull at her core, the ectoplasm almost singing in her veins as she got closer and closer to the doorway.

She had last come to the human realm of her own curiosity some fifty years ago, and that portal had been much closer to her grave. She could feel it, distantly. There was at least one sea between them, but Pandora had never found herself overly attached to her grave. Some ghosts she knew were compelled to seek it out every time that they could exit the zone, following that pull like a dog on a chain.

But Pandora had hundreds of years to dull that ache.

When she finally reached the portal and swept through it, the room she entered fell rather short of her expectations. There were smatterings of junk across the multiple tables, and even more strewn across the floor. It reminded her almost of an alchemist’s lab, though she has never seen one quite so unkept.

As she meandered up through the building and out onto the street she heard the telltale sound of battle, the burn of ectoplasm thick in the air as she raced to the scene.

————

“Greetings young Phantom! This foe seems of much higher caliber then the ghost of shapes we fought previously. Do you require assistance?”

“Uh hello, miss Pandora!” Phantom greeted as he dove around ectoplasm being hurled at him. The ghost he was fighting was vaguely familiar to Pandora, blue skin with a long cape and bright pink bubbling ectoplasm.

Just as Pandora was readying herself she felt a distinct pop in her eardrums. A second later she felt a familiar medallion settle around her neck and she looked up in present surprise to meet the familiar eyes of Clockwork.

“Clockwork! I have not seen you in some time,” she glanced over at Phantom, who grinned and the elder ghost, “is the young Phantom your ward?”

“Lady Pandora, your skill and grace are always a pleasure to behold.” Clockwork dipped his head at the young ghost and spared an indulgent smile as Phantom zipped over to poke at his frozen enemy. “I believe it’s been at least two hundred years since I’ve been able to seek out your company.”

Phantom looked between the ghosts with surprise.

“You guys know each other?”

“We’ve been acquaintances for millennia, but I believe the last time we saw each other in the flesh, so to speak, was when we fought and sealed Pariah.” Pandora flexed her lower left arm, so many years later and still that bastard could pack a punch.

“That was you guys?” Phantom seemed mildly impressed, “man, I wish I had had that kind of help when he broke out a few months ago.”

Pandora grimaced, “I apologize that I was unable to lend my strength or that of my fellow pantheonic ghosts, his escape was so sudden we had still been planning an angle of attack when we got the news he had been defeated and resealed.”

“Well the help would have definitely been appreciated, but don’t beat yourself up about it.” Phantom’s grin turned cheeky, “but if you feel you simply must repay me, you could start with this guy, he’s the one who let out Pariah in the first place.”

Phantom gestured to the frozen ghost, who’s eyes were still narrowed as ectoplasm curled in his fists.

Pandora felt a grin begin to pull on her face as she flexed her arms, she had been looking for a way to spend her time in the land of the living.

“I suppose we should finish this rather fast if we want time to reconvene before Pandora must get back to her home.”

Clockwork gave a dramatic, put upon sigh, but from the corner of her vision she saw a small smile split his face.

“Time in.”

#danny phantom #phandom truce 2024 #Pandora Danny phantom #Clockwork #Danny Fenton

28 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years ago

Note

A suspicious man in a trenchcoat, baseball cap, sunglasses, and mask sneaks into Pomefiore. He asks the mob students where he can find Vil Schoenheit and they suspect he’s a crazy super fan. The mob students are prepared to throw him out until who should appear but THE Vil who immediately recognizes the shady man. *“Dad?”*

Out of curiosity, who thirsts for Vil's dad (or at least appreciates the concept of what he could be since we haven't been able to meet him face-to-face yet)???? 😅 I feel like I actually haven't seen much fan art for him even though there seems to be tons for other parents and even siblings. Or maybe that's just because of the fandom circles I'm in??

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"Father?"

“It’s good to see you, my darling Vil.”

The sketchy man peeled away his surgical mask and sunglasses, revealing a brilliant smile and twinkling violet eyes. His hat followed, letting loose a cap of silken gold hair. Most of it had been gently slicked back, allowing for stray locks to curl in easy, effortless waves that called attention to his best features.

There was a rugged youthfulness to him, and what lines were on his skin were worn with grace and dignity. He had the kind of face that passerbys were drawn to: an older, conventional kind of handsome, yes, but with a magnetic warmth inlaid in it. When he laughed, people listened, and when he walked by, heads turned.

And listen and turn they did.

"It's him!! It's THE Eric Venue!!"

The surrounding Pomefiore mob students broke out into gasps and barely contained yelps. One of them fainted, caught in the nick of time by another mob. ("P-Pull yourself together, man!!" he hissed.)

The lounge went still for a second.

Then one voice rose high above the silence.

"Kyaaaaah! Father!!"

With a cry of delight and a giggle, Vil threw his arms around Eric. Entangled, he could breathe in the lovely smell of his father’s sophisticated cologne: jasmine, saffron, and cedarwood.

“What happened?” Vil asked, nearly breathless. “I thought you were busy shooting your new film in the City of Flowers.”

“I was—but I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to see you. I had my manager pull a few strings to clear a day in my schedule to visit. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Father…”

Excited murmurs passed throughout the mob students.

"E-Eh?! Vil-sama squealed like a high school girl just now…”

"I-I didn't realize he was capable of acting so cutesy.”

“Wow, they sparkle so much together. I’m going to be blinded!”

“Ah-HEM!” Vil straightened in his father’s embrace, directing a withering look at his dorm members. "Do you gentlemen mind giving us some privacy? It’s rather rude to eavesdrop and stare at a family reunion.”

There was a flurry of embarrassed apologies and nervous tittering. Then the onlookers hurriedly dispersed, as quickly as the flicker of a humingbird’s wings.

Vil peeled away from his father with a sigh. “Do excuse my dorm members. It seems they need a refresher for their manners.”

“That’s quite alright—it’s not the strangest fan interaction either of us has had,” Eric joked, eyes creasing. “They must have been mystified to witness your cuteness firsthand—as they should be.

“Just look at you!!” He spread out his arms toward Vil. “The fairest of them all, the apple of my eye.”

Vil chuckled, twirling to give his father a full view of him. The hem of his dorm uniform flared out like a flower in bloom.

“You’re all grown up now.” Eric’s voice grew tender, his eyes shimmering with wetness. “Studying magic, leading an entire dorm, going off on your internship next year, furthering your career… You’re going to accomplish so many more great things.”

“You were my very first fan—and I have you to thank for being my inspiration. I can’t possibly take all the credit.”

Eric laughed heartily, wrapping an arm around his son. “I’ve missed this. We have so much catching up to do.”

“We do. Seeing as it’s Family Day, there are even more people on campus than usual. We should be able to blend in easily… provided, of course, the right disguise.” Vil smiled. “If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll be fitted to join you."

“It’ll be just like old times, eh? The two of us gallivanting about in plain sight. You were still new to magic back then, but you were able to do something as impressive as changing the colors of our clothes."

"A color-changing spell such as that is elementary. It's one of the first spells taught to first year students." A smirk tugged at Vil's mouth. "I'll show you just how far I've come since then."

He produced his magical pen from his robes and raised it high into the air. A shower of sparkles rained down from its gemstone, casting Vil in a soft glow. Ribbons of light slowly knitted themselves over his outfit, stretching, stitching, and reshaping his uniform into something new.

As the magic dissipated, fizzling into fine speckles of glitter, Vil stepped out in a chic cream-colored tracksuit and deep purple sneakers. His famous face was obscured by a baseball cap and sunglasses that were identical to his dad's.

Eric's jaw dropped. "I think I'm starstruck again."

"Fufu. I tend to have that effect on people." Vil tugged up the surgical mask affixed to his chin. "Come now, we have a whole day ahead of us!"

#Vil Schoenheit #twst #twisted wonderland #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Eric Venue #NRC Family Day #disney twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines

442 notes · View notes

pokemonshelterstories · 8 months ago

Note

Hello! I have a question regarding the care for a mon of mine. I've had my altaria for years as a battling partner- she is like my best friend. When we are travelling in the wild I usually let her hunt and forage for her own stuff which ends up being anything from a few berries to a patrat or something. A friend and rival of mine always gets really angry whenever she hears about this though, saying I'm being 'neglectful' or even harmful to the local wildlife by letting her do this. Is this true? I don't want to stifle my mons hunting instincts by keeping her cooped up all the time but if it is hurting the local ecosystem I will have to stop and find something else enriching for her since she is so used to being able to do this. If it's any context she was a wild caught Mon not egg raised, she has been a habitual hunter since she was a swablu catching caterpies.

if she's in your care, you definitely shouldn't be letting her eat wild pokemon. aside from the fact that most locations you visit with her aren't going to have altaria as native predators, meaning that she is indeed negatively impacting the ecosystem, that's a great way for her to pick up some nasty diseases.

there's a reason pokemon generally live longer in captivity than in the wild. being a wild pokemon comes with all manner of dangers, and wild-caught pokemon always get a good dose of antiparasitical treatments and checks for infections at their first center checkup. especially given that your altaria is a battling pokemon, you shouldn't risk the chance of her picking something up. battling pokemon really need a specific kind and quality of diet to stay in good condition for the level of physical activity we expect of them. your friend is correct; you need to find other ways to enrich your altaria.

#charlietalks #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #pokemon enrichment #pokemon welfare

53 notes · View notes

neos127 · 9 months ago

Text

DIE FOR YOU — SIM JAEYUN (chapter ten)

spider-man!jake x fem!reader; synopsis. university student and daily bugle intern jake sim does his best to juggle having two separate lives. unfortunately y/n, who also interns at the daily bugle, is obsessed with finding out who the popular vigilante ‘spider-man’ is. with their constant close proximity and jake’s new found crush, y/n is closer to figuring out his secret identity by the day.

jake couldn’t face you the next day and explained that he had to skip out on finishing the article so he could check up on riki. the two of you had plenty of time so he wasn’t compromising anything— well maybe your relationship.

you never replied after jake’s pathetic text and he felt mortified, barely getting any sleep as he stared up at his ceiling the whole night. between the two hours and sleep and excessive amount of sirens blaring outside his window, jake was a zombie throughout the whole school day.

but as he promised, he still hopped on the subway and trudged over to the upper east side to visit his friend.

as soon as the elevator door opened, jake froze. he forgot how insane the nishimura residence was. he hadn’t been there since he was about ten. when the two approached their teens, riki had wanted to hang out everywhere else but home. jake assumed it was because of riki’s issues with his father but he also had the sneaking suspicion that the younger boy felt bad about having jake over. riki hated to show off and the penthouse he lived in was way more luxurious than the flat jake grew up with in queens.

jake never minded, he always thought the place was cool anyways.

stepping into the giant living room, jake looked over to the tall windows, finding riki sitting in front of them. he smiled, knowing how much the boy liked to watch the city ever since he was little.

“riki…hey.” jake called out, walking over to him. the boy smiled, a genuine smile that made jake’s lips turn upward. he always had a soft spot for the younger boy, and seeing him happy made him happy.

“how are you feeling?” jake asked after a while, once the two had finished catching up. they were now sitting outside, enjoying the last of the nice weather before it got cold. jake concluded that the balcony was bigger than his whole apartment (he hadn’t remembered it that way), but it was cool to have a view of the whole city below.

“i’m great. never been better actually.” riki replied, his tone light. jake eyed him wearily, wondering what exactly his dad gave him. he didn’t want to be invasive and ask, but ultimately he was worried for his friend’s health.

“so um— what exactly did your dad do to cure you?” jake asked hesitantly, not being able to meet riki’s eyes. the younger boy laughed at his shyness and shook his head.

“jake, you’re my best friend, you don’t have to be afraid to ask me stuff. but uhm, my dad and his team at muracorp had been studying something otherworldly. they had been studying it for years, doing some trials and figuring out what its use could be for.” riki began to explain, making jake’s eyebrows shoot upwards when he said ‘otherworldly’.

“i’m sorry— as in not from earth? something alien?” he asked in disbelief.

“yeah, definitely alien. one of team members tested it, but it didn’t seem as attracted to him. the alien attaches itself to people, but it has to want to. although with the short time that it was attached, it made the guy stronger and faster and overall just better. it improved his health significantly even though he is perfectly healthy. they concluded that it could be a cure so my dad asked me if i wanted to try. i was a bit hesitant at first, but im glad i did.” riki replied, a small smile on his face.

jake was at a loss for words, his head starting to hurt a bit. his spider sense began to tingle, but he wasn’t sure why. jake had many false alarms before due to anxiety, but this felt different.

“is it safe…?” jake asked, his form becoming rigid. he suddenly noticed the black goo crawling up riki’s arms which explained the reason for his spider sense going off. jake backed up a bit when he noticed it extending towards him, feeling a sense of danger.

“it’s ok, jake. my dad personally tested the symbiote for years. he made sure it was safe enough. it seems to like me too, apparently the last guy who tested it became a little violent. my dad felt weary because of that, but there haven’t been any issues.” riki replied, turning the black goo into an arm and extending it into the air. jake jumped back in surprise, watching his friend curiously.

“so, you were that hero at coney island the other night?” jake asked, wanting to confirm his suspicions. riki nodded with a smile on his face, looking as proud as ever.

“yup, that was me. i’m sure our friendly neighborhood spider-man gets tired sometimes, i wanted to help my friend out.” riki shrugged. jake froze, his mouth drying up.

“oh…um…you know spider-man?” he asked dumbly, already knowing that he had been caught.

“dude, it’s okay. i found out before i left.” riki scoffed, patting his friend on the shoulder reassuringly. jake jumped in surprise once again before he noticed that the goo was gone. the alien was giving him a feeling that he did not like.

“was i too obvious?” he groaned, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“kind of…you’ve definitely gotten better over the years. but i also did a lot of investing. sorry bro, i just wanted to know where you ran off to all the time.” riki said, making jake smile. even though he often kept his secret for safety reasons, it was nice to have his best friends in on it.

“what do you think about us saving the city together?” riki asked timidly, playing with the rings on his hands as he awaited jake’s response.

the older boy pondered the question for a few seconds, not wanting to put riki in danger. but it seemed as if he could handle himself, especially with the symbiote attached to him.

the city was getting a bit harder to handle on his own anyways, it would be nice to have a friend tag along.

“alright…i’m down.”

previous | masterlist | next

taglist; @odxrilove @junityy @hittoki @jaklvbub @fariest @besuqueos @n1k1mura @k1ttylvr @francinethings23 @sakiimeo @serafilms @riksaes @dreamiestay @iluvkyo @wonunuwoo @jentlecoeur @greyminyoon1 @sincerelyrki @ilovejungwonandhaechan @vousty @frickyratz @supportstudies @roastandtoast @letwiiparkjay @jakeyverse @cafeyuns @keilovr @rosas-in-the-garden @wonxlvr @ilyjxdz @mitchii @ahnneyong @noobgod1269 @iheartjayke @l2vedive

— ky’s notes; SORRY for the long wait :/ i was feeling super unmotivated with this smau so i took a small break from working on it

#enha imagines #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enha smau #jake imagines #jake sim imagines #jake sim x reader #sim jake #sim jake x reader #sim jake imagines #sim jake smau #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun imagines

56 notes · View notes

coopigeoncoo · 10 months ago

Text

Meat Cute, Chapter 3

Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 3 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!

---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–--

A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

“You're in a good mood today, Ms. Rosie,” you commented as you wrapped up her unusually large order of flank steaks, happy that something has managed to finally cheer her up after Franklin's untimely demise during the last Extermination. You'd taken it upon yourself to personally dismember Franklin's body, making every break and slice as precise as possible before packaging up her remains and delivering them to Rosie.

It had been a spur of the moment decision to separate Franklin's heart separately from the rest of the offal, boxing it up and tying it with a length of silky black ribbon. You'd carefully passed the box into Rosie's shaking hands; averting your eyes and pretending to not notice her tears as she slipped the sentimental hunk of muscle into the back of her icebox with a guy-wrenching sob.

“Sure am, sweetie!” Rosie grinned, adjusting the brim on her wide hat until it fell just so . “An old friend is back in town after seven years and I finally got him to agree to visit!”

“That's wonderful, Ms. Rosie! I hope you have a great time catching up.”

“It's gonna be a bloodbath,” she cackled in delight. “I'll make him regret up and disappearing on me without so much as a postcard!”

“Oh,” you murmured thoughtfully, still not quite used to the volatile nature of relationships in Hell, especially amongst the more aged population. “Can I sharpen your knives before you go?”

“That would be fantastic, darling! Thank you,” Rosie said, reaching into the handbag at her side and slowly pulling out no less than half a dozen ornate looking blades, lining them up carefully on the counter while you prepped a nearby whetstone.

The large brass bell on the wall rang cheerily, indicating the presence of a salesman at the back door.

“Fresh Meat handles deliveries!” the man at the sausage stuffer called over his shoulder with a grin, laughing as you threw your hands up into the air with a frustrated groan.

“This is ridiculous!” You hissed in irritation, wiping your hands off angrily on your apron. “It's been five flipping years of this! When are we going to hire someone new so I can have a break once in a while?”

“You think Hal is going to pay for a new employee?” The shift manager said, ladling blood into large glass jars. “He barely even pays us!”

Still grumbling, you throw open the back door, customer service smile in place, and nearly scream at the sight that awaits you.

Angels, dozens of them, being dragged down the alley and thrown into careless piles by the butcher shop stoop.

“What's the going rate for angel meat?” The man at the front of the line asked, his suit jacket torn to shreds and face splatter with glimmering angel blood.

“I- I don't know,” you whispered in shock, examining the angel closest to you, multiple bites taken out of the visible flesh of their arm. “But whatever it is, you aren't getting full price for the ones you've been nibbling on.”

It had been days since you'd been able to grab more than a couple hours sleep at a time. Cuts of angel meat had become an instant delicacy and sinners were flooding into Cannibal Town with loaded wallets, ready to spend any amount that would guarantee them the right to try the smallest morsel; not knowing when or if they'd ever have the opportunity again.

And since you were the only employee Hal trusted to break down the angels without helping yourself to a bite or two, you had been working pretty much nonstop since last week.

“Have a good rest of your day,” you managed to squeeze out in-between yawns, lazily waving goodbye to the pug-faced demon walking away with his newly acquired angel femur tucked securely under a beefy arm.

“I c’n help whoe’er's next,” you slur, the fist that's propping up your heavy head squishing your cheek and distorting your mouth and any words that tumble out of it. You closed your eyes, determined to catch a moment of rest while the next customer perused the assortment of angel parts stacked artistically behind the glass display case. A loud huff startled you awake, your body jolting when you realized you'd drifted off to sleep while the milling customers became increasingly irritated by the indecisive customer at the head of the line.

“I can offer suggestions if you're having trouble deciding,” you offer, doing your best to focus back onto your patrons and not your all-consuming exhaustion.

“My sincerest apologies for taking so long!” The man sighed, voice crackling as his eyes darted from one cut of angel to another. “It all looks positively divine!”

“That is the notable selling point,” you agree with a yawn. “There isn't a bad cut amongst the bunch, but if you're really undecided then I have to recommend grabbing a couple of rib eyes and some salt.

“Oh?” The man asked, nose nearly pressed up against the glass in front of the briskets.

“Mmhmm. That way, even if you made a mistake, salt makes m'steaks taste great.”

You had been expecting one of the regular responses to your puns, a polite chuckle or pained goan, but your customer did neither. Instead, much to your great surprise, the bright red man threw his head back and cackled.

“Rosie said this place had the best angel meat in Cannibal Town, but she failed to mention anything about complimentary comedy show!”

“Well, we have to keep that part on the down-low,” you say conspiratorially, lowering your voice into a fake whisper. “We aren't zoned as an entertainment venue.”

“My lips are sealed!” The man promised, using two black-tipped claws to close an invisible zipper across his saw-toothed grin; his lips nowhere near touching each other, let alone sealed. “I'd hate for my favorite new shop to be closed down just when I discovered it!”

You rang up his order, every angel steak you had available, and he left with the promise that he would return for a visit soon, the crowd of customers parting in front of him as he made his way towards the exit, hand twirling in the air as he bid you adieu.

Dorcas was beside you in an instant, squealing at such a high pitch that your ears folded back against your head protectively.

“You were so cool!,” she gushed, tugging at your arm excitedly. “I can't believe you were able to act so casually around him!”

“Him? Him who?”

“Alastor!”

“Alastor?”

“You know, the Radio Demon?” Dorcas asked incredulously. “One of the top Overlords?”

“The steak guy is an Overlord?” You gasp in horror, desperately grasping your coworker's boney shoulders to keep your legs from buckling beneath you. “Please, please tell me I didn't crack stupid jokes at an Overlord!”

“You did. And I think he expects you to do it again.”

“Oh,” you mutter distantly, saliva turning sour in your mouth as your mind reeled with the multitude of painful and bloody ways your overly familiar interaction could have ended. “I think I'm going to be sick.”

“Need me to get your barf bucket?”

“Yes, please.”

#pigeoncoos🕊#alastor x female reader #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you

70 notes · View notes