#then i played the game and while i enjoyed a lot of it a lot was just tedious in a bad way

[randombush3]

cool about it

alexia putellas x reader

summary: you can't find inspiration for your play

notes: this was rotting in my drafts and then i got drunk and finished it lolz

i refuse to read it back so have fun

The first time Alexia sees you, you are with your friends; sleeves rolled-up, wide smile on your face, a pool cue in your hand as you wield it like a weapon the minute one of the women beside you opens her mouth. She is drawn into observing, craving the knowledge of what you are being told; what is making you blush so furiously. She sees your mouth open, a blackhole that draws her in without mercy, and she barely survives the sound of your loud, raucous laughter

Suddenly, in the universe of football and media events and her little sister’s embarrassingly active love-life, you appear. Like a new star, burning bright, big and hot and… “You’re staring,” says Mapi with a smile. She knows not to tease, and she treads lightly. “You’ve been staring for a while.” 

“They’re speaking English.” It’s an incriminating sentence, but it would have been futile to deny Mapi’s accusation anyway. 

“I saw her at the bar. She spoke Spanish then.” 

“You’ve been stalking her.” 

Mapi nods, and holds Alexia’s drink in a silent push to get her over to the pool table. To you. “Because you’ve been staring. I was only making sure she wasn’t a psycho.” 

“Thanks,” she scoffs, but, in truth, she is grateful. 

As she saunters over (a newly regained skill, months down the line from her traumatic ACL reconstruction surgery), her confidence a believable façade, she decides that she is going to be Alexia Putellas. She is going to be cool about it, and she is going to impress you, and she is going to make you laugh so that she can hear that sound again. 

Again, again, again. 

“Yeah, sure, you can take over for Soph,” you say, nodding towards the woman who had been on the receiving end of your light prodding with the wooden stick all of friends regret allowing three-drink you to be in charge of. “So you’re spots, I’m stripes. I’ve got two left until I can pot the black, and you, er, you might be at a disadvantage here.” You rub the back of your neck as you peer at the balls on the table, almost all of them left behind by Soph’s inability to play pool. “How about we just, um–” 

“Está bien.” Alexia pretends to understand a lot more of what you said than she really does, regretting her choice to approach you in English, but she gets the jist. And, although you make her feel as though life has only just begun, she remembers her competitiveness very, very clearly. “Voy a ganar,” she scoffs. 

She holds in her celebration as you break out into a grin, immediately rising to the challenge, glad your friends have tired of the pool table so that no one can interrupt the battle you are about to commence. A battle with a very pretty woman, you must admit. 

You lose. 

You blame it on Alexia – she tells you her name as she pots three balls in a row – and try not to acknowledge the taunts from your friends at the bar, most of them having watched the entire game from afar to have something to talk about tomorrow. “You win,” comes your pitiful concession after a brutal defeat. “So, what will your prize be?” 

It’s an easy answer. 

That morning, throat hoarse from the cries that left it the night before, eyes red and tired and way too sensitive to light for you to consider drinking a drop of alcohol ever again, you wrap your arms around the warm body in the unfamiliar bed, finding the intimacy to have lived on longer than it should for a one-night-stand. Barcelona is warm and sunny, the day one to be enjoyed, and the company the best you have had in a while. 

It isn’t just that Alexia is a goddess. It isn’t the Amazonian ridges of her stomach and the firmness of her thighs, nor the softness of her hair or the deft movements of her fingers against your scarred skin. No, that is not what has, in just one evening, made you fall in love with her. (You bite your lip as you are overcome with emotion, chest filling up – with which feeling, you do not know –, heart pounding into your bones as the rhythm of your desire to be in Alexia’s life sets into the very framework of your being.) No! How could it be that? How could it be that when there is more? 

The coarseness of her determination; the slippery confidence, delicate and sharp, as though it is both the petal of a rose and the thorn that will prick you. Her humour, mistranslated at times, but always ready to make fun of idiots (most often, a specific idiot with a neck tattoo, as you come to realise). 

Personally, you believe it to be unfair that Alexia, Alexia Putellas, is simply ‘all that’. 

Getting to know each other fails to feel awkward, though you spend a lot of time waiting for the tension to appear. 

She discovers who you are, how you have moved to Barcelona for inspiration, finding that very thing lacking in dreary Leeds (the most depressing place on Earth, you could argue). She learns of your dream, although you label it as your ‘plan’: to write a play and to see it on the stage, preferably a grand theatre in the West End. Or in Stratford, where upon lies the greatest soil from which a playwright can grow. 

You show her your empty pages, devoid of black print marks. White and white, that goes on until it is clear that you have tired of pressing the ‘enter’ button as though it will ignite a story within. A story that hasn’t yet come, mind. 

“Do you think it will work?” she asks you, her accusation carrying nothing but curiosity once you see past the abrupt manner in which she interrupts your lengthy monologue about your severe case of writer’s block. 

Maybe you intend to be a little vague, for the sake of your racing heart and your delicate emotions, because you only shrug. You have already found your inspiration, not that you are going to tell her. 

Alexia is forward in the sense that she checks how temporary your presence is in her city before asking you out on a date. Your answer of ‘however long this shit takes’ is enough for her to be sure that she wants a second. A third, too. 

Then, before you know it, it has been a year. 

A year of Barcelona, a year of Spanish sun, and, excitingly, a year in which you have been cured; fingers blessed with movement and ideas and words on the tip of your tongue that run free in Alexia’s ear as you talk and talk and talk. She listens and listens and listens, and switches into the focus of your pairing when you go with her to watch her team play and play and play (why the fuck does football have so many matches?!). The final stage direction, all curling italics and sentimentality, sits at the bottom of the page. 

The end of your play. 

It is finished, it is done, and, soon after you have revised it one last time, it is sent to your producer friend with a nervous click of the ‘new email’ button and the hope that he is thankful for the times at university when you cared for him when he drank himself so silly that he barely made it to his lectures two days after the night-out. 

“It feels good,” you tell Ingrid, the girlfriend of the idiot with the neck tattoo, beaming as she inquires about your work. “I feel like I lived through it to get to this moment, you know? All that’s left to do is for him to read it and decide whether he’ll pick it up. Then, table reads and funding, of course. I’d want to direct, but, also, I’m not going to sell this one. Leasing it and taking a percentage of the royalties will make me loads more, because, Ingrid, this one is the best thing I’ve ever written.” 

There is a moment, usually, that comes after you have finished writing. A brief, sharp sort of panic, where you question your worth and your talent; you wonder if you have been lied to your whole life, and that your version of the same twenty-six letters of the alphabet, jumbled up on a white canvas as though you are (after a sleepless, usually) Picasso, is terrible. Or, worse, bad. 

Bad. Bad is so… plain. If it is just ‘bad’, you have failed as a writer. If it is not outrageous or unbelievably horrible, or, as one obviously hopes, incredible and amazing… if it is just ‘bad’, well: “Alexia, I’m terrified.” 

Alexia kisses your neck (you do not feel the finality of it, or maybe it is that you do not want to) because she knows it isn’t bad; she is more than aware that your play, your new creation, is really rather good. Brilliant, even. “Tranquila, mi amor,” she murmurs in your ear, bringing her arms to rest on your tense shoulders, a hand closing your laptop on its journey. “Le va a flipar.” 

“You think so?” 

“Sí.”

“Are you saying that because we’re together and you love me?” Your voice is small and unsure, and its teasing lilt is thrown off-kilter by the croak of your anxiety. “Or do you mean it? Please, I hope you mean it.” 

“I mean it.” She hates that she does. “Yes, of course I mean it. I love you and I am proud of you.” She hates it, she hates this, and she hates the talent your mind wields; something that is going to rip you from her grasp. It was bound to happen.

Your phone rings; soft, electronic trills dancing in the space between you and the coffee table it has been placed on. “I think that’s him,” you whisper, the volume you had intended to speak at smited by the nervous lump in your throat. Alexia nods mournfully, but you are too busy accepting the call to see.

“Let’s do this,” he says. 

…

The first frost of London comes that January. It’s unusual, the locals claim, because the city exists in its own polluted microclimate, but their statistics do not stop the layer of ice from freezing onto the windshield of your car. You are glad London feels just as cold as you do. 

Your play is beloved by the actors who speak your words, and the critics amongst your friend group, who for once, have no criticism to give. There is promise here. It is going very well. 

You drive to the theatre, ready to sit in on another rehearsal. Though your original intention had been to direct, you pawed off the role to an old school friend upon her return from Broadway. Your decision, you tell her, comes from a lack of experience in direction. You pretend to have had an epiphany: you only want to write the plays. 

In truth, this is a lie. 

Of course it is a lie. 

But how can you direct such happiness, such love and romance, if you know that the very thing that inspired each line has ceased to exist? 

Alexia feels like she has ceased to exist. 

On the outside, she seems relatively fine. She trains well, plays well, makes appearances where she should, says what you’d expect of her, hopes to make the world a better place. She walks Nala as though the Pomeranian does not whine for you to hold her leash, and she visits her mother and sister even though they continue to ask her why she did what she did. 

At night, she scrolls through social media, fingers always leading her back to you; your life; your work; your experiences that you no longer share with her. She cries, then, usually: a common occurrence nowadays. 

There is a gaping hole in her chest that has been made by her sticking her fucking foot in it. 

She has questions, naturally; each directed hatefully at herself. Why? Why, why why? Why on Earth did she tell you never to come back? Why did she blame you for leaving? 

You were always going to leave! Alexia knows that, hates that she knows that. 

You came to Barcelona because you couldn’t write, and you wrote. You wrote, you made her fall in love with you, and, when you had finished, you discarded the life you had unexpectedly built all because of some stupid, stupid play. 

A play titled–

A play. 

A… Alexia can’t even bring herself to think about it. 

No, all Alexia can think about is how insignificant she feels when you are no longer in love with her. You: sophisticated, intelligent, brilliant, adoring. Her? 

“Lex, you can’t mope if you’re the one who broke it off.” The words leave Alba’s mouth in jest but Alexia recoils as though she has been whipped by her sister’s tongue. 

“I’m trying to be cool about it,” she replies like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It seems as though the globe has spun a full circle on its axis by the time Alba formulates her response, dumb-struck by such fucking idiocy. 

Alba hopes her sister feels like a fool – she hopes Alexia looks at herself in the mirror and… laughs, at this point. The whole thing has been ridiculous, in her opinion. 

First, her sister claims she is in love with a playwright with no plays to her name (Alba is examining the facts objectively, here, because she did quite like you); then, poof! Like a rabbit in a magician’s hat played in twisted reverse, away you go, and it somehow isn’t even your fault. 

She’d like to hate you, for her sister’s sake, but she finds herself loathing her own blood as it thins and thins until it trickles just like water. 

Okay, maybe she is being a little dramatic there, but she is still annoyed with Alexia. 

Alexia – whose existence as more-than-a-footballer is fading as she loses herself to waves of futile guilt – hates that she cannot hate you. She is plagued by emotional constipation, and though she tries to squeeze the situation for a drop of cruelty from you, she fails to discover a gram of relief.

It would have been kinder for you to have been cruel. Mercy is getting Alexia nowhere, and she would run to you if it were fast enough. Mercy is what renders her in a perpetual state of regret. Mercy is what keeps her up at night, but maybe mercy is what she likes having because it is yours and, in that way, she carries a piece of you with her. 

To confuse herself even more, to skew her mind further onto a path of unconventional self-destruction, she silently begs the mercy you have left behind to disappear so that she can learn to do without it. It’ll become a crutch and she wants it ripped from her grasp so that she can learn to walk on her own. She’s capable of that, she tells herself. 

(It probably isn’t true.)

…

Opening night. 

You’re wearing something far too nice to be comfortable, and there has been a champagne flute in your hand since the lunch held by the investors of the production company. The bubbles have served their purpose, clouding your mind with thoughts that weren’t to do with Alexia and her Alexia life and her Alexia smile and her Alexia way of making an Alexia-shaped cavity in your heart. 

It gushes quite a bit, because Alexia is strong and big and capable of damaging you to this extent. You reckon your surprise is foolish but fuck off, you’re trying your best. 

Comfortingly, not one scrap of red velvet is visible once the audience is ushered inside the theatre. 

It’s beautiful here; small, old. The perfect place to fall in love, just as you did. Or at least, experience the good part through deliciously talented actors and a stellar script (your horn has been tooted enough times for you to give it a go). 

Fear creeps up your legs as you take your seat in the front row, guarded by friends and family and proud English teachers who’d believe in you, but you take another sip and it simmers down. 

“Careful,” whispers your mum, shoulder nudging yours as you place your plastic cup (no glass in the auditorium) on the patterned carpet just as the show is about to begin. “You’ll not remember this if you don’t take a break.” 

And you’re halfway to announcing you don’t want to remember anything at all when the curtain goes up and a woman walks onto stage. 

It’s sobering. 

The audience is restlessly quiet, anticipating the brilliance they’ve been promised with an impatience that demands to be sated, but the actress takes her sweet time. 

She walks from stage left to stage right, then up and down. She’s passively searching for something. 

Someone. 

(It’s the fucking point, and you knew this would happen because you typed out these exact stage directions once upon a time. Alexia had misplaced a sock – a lucky sock, she claimed – and her passion, her desire to discover it, had weirdly morphed into a scene you could see being played out on a stage.) 

“Figure this out later,” speaks the actress with a satisfied smile, folding her arms over her chest. Finally, the audience’s breaths catch, enraptured by the vaguest cop-out of opening lines you could’ve chosen. 

They love it, though; they lean forwards in their seats as they are plucked from London and dropped into the middle of Barcelona. It’s mildly unnerving that you can’t escape the journey, clearly a member of the audience even if you don’t need to be told the story, but you land without the masses in the rows behind you. 

You land right into Alexia’s arms. 

There she is before you, in all her glory, proudly displaying the blue and red that she is so admirably dedicated to. Muscular and tanned, beautiful in the way that she always is, but shining brighter than just that. 

And you fucking hate it. 

When you imagine Alexia, you imagine her crippled and bed-ridden. Cracked knuckles come to mind, too, and she can barely speak without descending into rattling sobs that hack on and on until she somehow falls into fitful rest. 

You come prepared for absolution, expecting to see her dying just as you are, so it’s no wonder that your fists clench at her blasé declaration of “no regrets”. 

(By the way, Alexia’s not really there. You’d been stalking her Instagram and so that’s why she’s wearing her training kit, and… and you’re drunk!)

There are many things you’d like to say to her. 

Alexia had always been apprehensive of your relationship. She was closed-off to new people, and though she was certain of your importance to her, she was untrusting of much else. It happens when you’re famous; there are many wrong turns to take. And she needed to stay on the right path. 

It was impossible to pass Alexia’s test. 

For you, that is clear. Broken up with, told to leave and never come back, and begged to find someone else are not descriptors of the winner, nor she who achieved full marks. You’re a bit of a stranger to failing, but you’re trying to forget about it so that it never happens again. 

You’re breaking a sweat trying to banish her from your brain, barely registering the applause rippling through the theatre as you reach the interval. Trying to get her out of your head is like tugging at your intestines – a hand down your throat renders you dumb, and pains sears through your stomach as you are emptied and left to be a carcass.

“Is it good?” you ask your mum as you head to the bar in the foyer. 

“I wish you had let me meet her.” 

…

Alexia has never been to London outside of football before. She’s played in the north and in the south – she’s won every time – and it’s summery enough right now, but she is still a foreigner in the city. 

It’s fitting, this feeling of being lost, and it’s acceptable to feel it here because she has an excuse. Lost in Barcelona would be ridiculous. 

(But she is.) 

Why is Alexia in London when she could be in Spain? 

Well the only answer is that she has a ticket to a play in a theatre just off the West End that reminds her of someone she once loved. 

She thought it might help, seeing as she hasn’t scored a goal in four weeks with no assists to excuse the drought. Her manager gladly gave her the weekend to recharge, and she escapes matchday seven of Liga F under the guise of illness. 

While sleeping with your pillow, your t-shirt, she must have absorbed whatever the fuck you were on. By osmosis. 

That block. 

And now she has to act like she can’t read your mind. 

Her ticket, acquired last minute by a friend in high places as a massive favour, means that she has a front row seat to a damned play. She is well-prepared for the dread that wrenches her gut. 

The silence settling over her is uncomfortable and impatient, and the lights go down with a sense of impending doom. It’s a bit like being on death row, Alexia thinks. Here she gets to see the good things – a last meal of whatever she would like (you, of course that’s you) – but it is only because of her inevitable execution that this happens. 

The necklace hanging from her collarbones is a noose, the seat is a wooden box about to be kicked out from underneath her, and she needs to make her decision now: does she scream? Should she– 

She’s pulled out of her insanely dramatic spiral by a woman walking onto the stage. 

Her shoulders are hunched slightly and she has that look in her eye; that pang of hunger. 

The actress is recognisable, sure, but that is not the familiarity that strikes Alexia. 

It’s the character. 

It’s you. 

Walking from right to left, towards the back, down to the front, the actress is desperately searching for something. 

Inspiration, Alexia assumes, a smug smile briefly brushing her lips as the opening line breaks the tense silence. 

“Figure this out later,” you say. 

The actress is experienced but she has never read a script like yours before. It moved her to tears, though you claimed it was very happy. 

She lies awake at night, furiously envying those who could love like you do. 

She pities you, partly, because it’s no secret that the story of this love ended when you came here to put the show on. 

She has had to fall in love with someone – method acting, according to the director. 

It’s not quite the universe exploding and stars being born that your relationship must have been, but it’s alright and she is glad to see him in the audience. 

He’s next to a woman who does not seem to be enamoured by the beauty of the plot. 

A woman who seems absolutely fucking horrified. 

Her eyes are wide, fists clenched.

You – the real you – are watching Alexia with curiosity, more interested in her reaction to the play than the play itself. You wonder if she knows the significance of tonight; the reason you are here once more. 

In one month, the set and costumes will be packed up in boxes and taken onto the main street. 

It’s a dream come true. 

You’re here to announce the good news at the end of the show. 

…

“Alexia.” 

She tries not to turn around but she does. 

The night is cool and fresher than she’d expected the London pollution to allow, and the lamp posts are scarily looming over her as she forces herself to not run into your arms. You don’t wear a coat, although your year in Barcelona has borne a certain nostalgia for a warmer climate, but Alexia is wrapped up warm. 

“How… how are you doing?” 

You cringe at how apologetic it sounds. She broke up with you. 

There is a year that will be forever lost to love and happiness, bliss in Barcelona that was always going to be too good to be true. 

There is a year that you will never get back, but there is a breakup you must deal with. 

It’s not a brick wall, it’s a hurdle to jump over. 

Breaking up won’t be the end of your worlds. 

Knowing this, despite the weakness in her knees and the aching of her heart, Alexia lies. For your sake, she lies. 

“I’m good. It’s nice to see you.” 

You’re drowning but you’ll eventually remember how to swim. 

“You too,” you say with formulated sincerity that one day will grow naturally. “Score a goal next time you play, though.” 

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #randombush3

[fagtainsparklez]

Hey I've been observing from afar through your reaction blogging, I haven't been in mcyt as much since the dsmp ended but I still care about a lot of the people in the mcyt circle and I'm interested in what goes on - care to give a rundown of what happened at this twitch rivals thing everyone keeps talking about? (no pressure only if you want to) Aside from the fact I'm sure it was terribly run like most twitch rival events are, but it sounds like there was more to it than that

okay so. i am going to be missing quite a few details because i missed a day myself + my streamer could not care less, so i heavily encourage others to add on stuff i missed

this was a multi-day competition, running for 5 days with prize rewards from 1k to 100k. it started with i think 150 players, with select numbers of people getting eliminated each round. day 1-2 are fairly normal, at least for twitch rivals. of all the games that got played through the whole event, i'd say like 1 was actually good, and maybe 2 were decent, at best. most are bad, poorly-executed, poorly thought out, or just boring in terms of both player enjoy-ability and content creation.

DAY 3 EDIT:

now, sapnap's been sapnap for this entire event already. obnoxious, a bad sport, but most notably, playing DMCA'd songs. the event ran on proximity chat, so while he was unmuted, everyone around him would also be subject to said songs, which could mute vods at worst and terminate accounts at best. most people are fed up with him at this point. while everyone's trying to come up with solutions for the glitch, sapnap spams the discord with useless shit. couriway calls him out in the discord, calling him annoying and obnoxious, then later calling him a cunt in twitch chat. sapnap uses couriway and feinberg's name in his stream title for clickbait and talks shit about them + their friends (hbg/house builder gang). he also makes some weird comment asking if couri is homophobic because sap was talking about having skeppy's dick in his mouth?? or something?? i'm unsure exactly how day 3's issue of the glitch resolved.

day 4 is also your average experience with your usual range of average to horribly painful games. sapnap continues to be a bitch and not take responsibility for his stans attacking anyone in sight, but what else is new

day 5 is. bad. the game set for deciding the final competitors can be cheesed (if you let someone else do all the work, you can punch them in the last second and steal their win) and eliminates like 20 people at once. on top of that, a glitch happens that leaves the server on standby for at least 30 minutes while admins decide what to do. firebreathman sends a picture of a bare naked ass in the discord. someone else sends a photo of their debit card. streamers entertain themselves in various ways, including growing a cactus (fulham), playing osu (purpled), collecting other people's streams for their overlay (fruitberries), playing slime rancher (badboyhalo), and building real-life furniture (couriway). tubbo (who was already eliminated at this point) starts jumping between streams and asking in chat for the tea. the game is eventually replayed, deciding the final 4 players, but it's just as broken and at that point, no one wants to be there anymore. it's revealed through multiple streamers (purpled, i believe also feinberg) that twitch rivals games are not tested before being ran. the only testing done was a stress test to see if the server could handle all original 150-some players. this explains why the games are so bad and poorly organized (some games take over an hour, others barely 30 minutes).

the final four are sapnap, shadoune, sneegsnag, and i think feinberg. it's the most anticlimatic game of connect 4 you can imagine. sneeg eliminates sapnap, and shadoune eliminates fein. notably, fein's game glitches during a throw, which despite being obviously a glitch, the coordinators brush off as being "part of the game". fein and multiple other streamers spend time analyzing every pov frame by frame and all agree that yeah, that was a glitch. shadoune and sneeg are left for the finals. they come to an agreement that this is stupid and a horrible event. tired of this bullshit, they purposefully stall the games and run a podcast for approximately 2 hours, forcing the coordinators to bend to their commands hunger games-style. essentially since the first glitch of the day people were begging twitch to just split the money, something that wouldn't be easy according to tubbo, because everything is pre-signed and delegated before the event. sneeg and shadoune give no fucks, and force the coordinators to split the money anyway, winning the day through the power of friendship. i cannot stress enough how no one wanted to fucking be there by the end of all this.

#muse talk #bumble-punch #ask to tag #aaand scene #i think #this is very long i am sorry. a lot of shit has gone down.

[copper-16]

Mascot

Elena's first time getting to be Alexia's mascot.

(a/n: I feel like I'm on such a roll with these lol. Hope you all enjoy! Feel free to send more requests if you have more of Elena you want to see before I settle in to work on my next bigger project I have planned :)

Alexia had gone into the gym to do a few extra exercises after training, just to get a few reps in before the important game the next week. It was El Clásico in Barcelona once again, the day before her birthday in fact. She wanted to be prepared, she wanted to be sharp and focused. She was still coming back from her ACL, she was still yet to get back to the form everyone expected from her. 

The mental load was beginning to take a toll on her, and her birthday wasn’t really helping anything. Yet another reminder that she was getting older, that everything would get more complicated as tried to play whilst she aged. 

She was so focused on her reps that she doesn’t realize that Elena is standing in front of her until there is a tiny tap on her thigh, and she looks down from the weights she is holding to see that the three year old is peering up at her rather shyly. 

“Pequeña! What are you doing here my little love?” Alexia said sweetly, carefully setting the weight down before she sat down, scooping the baby into her arms and smothering her with kisses. The little giggles and laughs that Elena let out relaxed her whole body, and she felt herself smiling more genuinely than she had in days. 

“I…um…uh…I had a….a question!” The little girl explained, leaning back slightly as she reached up to shove some of her hair away from her face. It was sort of braided back, but a lot of the baby hairs that framed her face had gotten free, and now flowed freely in the slight breeze through the gym. Alexia followed her little hand with her larger ones, running it soothingly over the little girl’s forehead. 

Mapi and Ingrid’s daughter seemed nervous for some reason, and the midfielder furrowed her eyebrows a little bit, wondering what was making the usually outgoing and bubbly little girl so anxious. She looked quite concerned for someone who was only three years old.

“What is it Elena? It is okay, you can tell me,” she promised, her voice gentle. This seemed to settle the green eyed girl for a moment, enough for her to ask her question. 

“Walk out with you?” She asked carefully, her words clearly well thought out. Alexia’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline with surprise. Mapi or Ingrid usually never let their daughter walk out with anyone else, and she wasn’t sure if she could say yes. 

She hesitated for a moment, knowing what her heart wanted, while also wanting to respect her friends' boundaries. 

“PSSSST!”

The blonde turned her head to see that Mapi and Ingrid were peering around the corner, the Norwegian’s head over her wife’s as they leaned into the gym while not wanting to go into the room completely. 

Both of the defenders reached their hands up to give thumbs up, citing their clear agreement with the situation. Alexia felt her smile grow as she turned back to Elena, who was looking at her hopefully. 

“Yes! I would love for you to walk out with me!” She agreed easily, picking up the little girl and twirling her around, inciting another round of laughter and squeals as she hugged the toddler. 

Suddenly the game seemed a little bit more exciting, and a little bit less overwhelming. At the very least, she had something to look forward to. 

—

“Where is my baby!” Alexia announced as she all but ran into the changing room, throwing her bag down when she caught sight of Elena. 

“Tia!” She cried, running over on her little legs and running directly into the midfielder. The laugh that came out of the Barcelona captain’s mouth was more natural than anything, as she bent down to peel the toddler off of her legs and to lift her up into her arms, dancing her back and forth. 

Elena clapped along with the bopping the midfielder was doing, horribly out of rhythm but still joyful all the same. 

“Tía, Tía, look at my shirt!” She announced, pulling at the little Barcelona jersey she was wearing. Alexia assumed that it was one of Mapi or Ingrid’s shirts, but when she turned the little girl around it was her name and number plastered on the back. 

“You have my shirt! What, do you love me or something?” She teased in an overly exaggerated attempt to hide the emotion that bubbled up inside of her, and when Elena nodded enthusiastically, she tucked the girl into her to give her a big hug. Little arms wrapped their way around her and held her tightly, and she found that her nerves had dissipated for the most part, at least for now. 

Elena was passed back to Mapi for a while so that Alexia could get ready, and before she knew it they were getting ready to head out. 

Elena was passed back to Alexia, who held her hand very securely as they walked out into the tunnel, preparing to go out onto the field. The little girl was oblivious entirely to Alexia’s nerves, and she babbled about everything and nothing at all to her Tía. 

When Elena looked over at the Real Madrid team, she quickly noticed a familiar face in line, and before anyone could stop her she had turned her body entirely, calling out with a force that was rather surprising from a three year old. 

“HOLA TÍA MISA!” Elena called out as though Misa was not ten meters from her. Mapi and Ingrid were standing further back in the line, and the Norwegian had to hide her laughter in a cough while the Spaniard smacked her forehead with her palm. 

The goalkeeper was known for her focus before matches, and for her stony expressions when she was in the zone, so Alexia looked over almost in panic when Elena called out to her. She wasn’t sure if Misa not responding would make Elena sad or not, and what she was supposed to do with an upset toddler when they walked out for the match. 

But to her surprise, Misa’s expression broke at the sound of her name, and her whole body softened as she turned slightly, offering a small wave to Elena, her gloves strapped securely onto her hands. 

Elena’s whole face lit up in excitement that Misa remembered her, and she turned back to Alexia with a bright smile on her face. 

“That’s Misa!” She explained cheerfully, and Alexia pretended to be surprised, looking up at the Real Madrid goalkeeper, following Elena’s instructions. 

The toddler managed to keep them preoccupied until they were ready to walk out, and Alexia held her hand carefully as they made their way out. She had been sure to inform any photographer she could find that she really wanted pictures of walking out with Elena, and she could hear the snap of the shutter as they walked out to get ready. 

The crowd roared around them, and as Elena took it in while they lined up, she found herself hiding behind Alexia’s leg a little bit. She was clearly a touch nervous, and found safety in the Barcelona captain. 

It was one thing to know her goddaughter and love her, but it felt like another for the little girl to find safety in the midfielder. It had this ability to make her feel such warmth inside, and like suddenly football mattered just a tiny bit less. 

The blonde looked down at the little girl, her forehead creasing in concern. 

“Are you okay pequeña? It is okay to be scared, I know they are loud. But they are just excited for the game!” Alexia whispered loudly, pretending that she was telling the curly haired little girl a big secret. Elena looked up at her, seemingly holding onto every word she said as she watched her godmother, nodding slightly. 

She reached her hands up as soon as Alexia stopped talking, and the Spaniard easily picked her up, popping her onto her hip and adjusting her little jersey down over her stomach with a practiced ease. 

“Do you want to wave to the crowd?” The captain asked, and Elena’s smile spread as she reached her hand out, waving at everyone in the stands. 

There will be a picture for Alexia to frame, of the toddler with a big smile on her face as she waved at the crowd, while the midfielder laughed at her, gazing down at the little one adoringly. 

It’s only after the coin toss, which Elena helps with, that the little girl has to part from Alexia, so that they can play the game. The green eyed girl is passed to Patri, who begins to take her from her fellow midfielder before Elena calls out, causing Alexia’s steps to falter. 

“Tía Ale! Tía come back!” Elena all but wails, and for a second the game becomes obsolete to the Spaniard, who instantly turns back at the sound of the little girl’s clear discontent. 

“What? What is it?” She replies as she jogs over, and the curly haired girl reaches her hand up to her mouth before she runs over to Alexia, exaggerating a kissing motion off of her mouth and then pressing her hand to the Spaniard’s knee. 

“Good luck kiss! Score a goal!” Elena nods her little head at Alexia before she runs after Patri, who scoops her up and jogs them both to the bench so they can start the game. 

The Barcelona captain looks down at her knee for a second. The one the toddler had tapped was her bad knee, and even though Elena couldn’t know that, it felt a little symbolic. Her resolve to win strengthens as she sets up to play the match. 

—

Elena squirmed in Mapi’s hold as the game wound down, the Spaniard’s daughter knowing full well that it was nearly over. She had been subbed off about twenty minutes prior, and had collected her daughter from Patri to sit together on the bench, but all the little girl wanted today was Alexia it seemed. 

“Just one more minute!” Mapi laughed as the little girl let out a big huff, clearly displeased with that answer. She continued to twist and turn until the final whistle blew, and finally the center back released her, allowing the green eyed girl to take off as fast as her little legs would allow it. 

Ingrid was standing in between her and Alexia, and she bent down to receive her daughter, only for the little girl to drive by her completely, clearly not in search of her. Mapi, who had been trailing after her, laughed easily at the semi-annoyed look on her wife’s face. 

“Gosh, when did we become old news?” The Norwegian shook her head with a slight frown on her lips, but the brunette could tell her wife wasn’t really annoyed, not when they turned to see where their daughter was headed. 

Alexia was headed for the little girl just as much as Elena was running to her, and she bent down just as Elena made it to her, so that she could feel the toddler bury herself in her arms as she wound them around her in exchange. 

“You did it!” Elena announced happily, because the captain truly had. 

Alexia had scored a goal in the 79th minute of the game, and with the very leg where she had received a good luck kiss from the curly haired girl right before the match. 

“I did! And it was all thanks to you and your magic kisses, thank you so much!” Alexia gushed happily, pecking kiss after kiss to Elena’s little cheek as she held her tightly. The squeals and giggles released in response were well worth it, and she found herself leaning into the kisses that the curly haired girl offered in response, pressing wet little kisses to her cheek before she nestled herself further into Alexia. 

“Love you Tía,” Elena announced as she fisted one of her little hands in Alexia’s kit, and the midfielder was absolutely positive that her heart doubled in size at the words. 

“I love you too pequeña, always,” she promised as she pressed another kiss to the top of her head, holding the little girl securely to herself, rocking her back and forth.

#ingrid x mapi x daughter #woso #ingrid engen #mapi leon #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #patri guijarro #misa rodriguez

[suplicyy]

Hii!

Could you please write some hcs of Kenma, and Nishinoya plus maybe anyone else you want with a gf who's like a tiny bit younger than them, shorter and is like really clingy. She's like constantly texting them, and takes every chance she can to hug them or just talk to them and is there even at their practices.

Haikyuu boys w/ a clingy gf

— Summary: Relationship hcs about them having a clingy girlfriend.

— Characters: Nishinoya, Kenma

— Fluff

— Fem!Reader

You're only a year younger than him, so it wasn't so difficult to make friends with him!! Little by little you would meet each other by chance during breaks or during free time in class, and these moments made you get closer and closer, until you started dating.

But as time went by, you opened up to him more and had the courage to be who you really are, as he has always made it clear that he likes you for who you are. And after that, you felt more confident to be more loving with him: with lots of physical touches, words of affirmation and lots of quality time!

You love your boyfriend very much and want to show it in the most affectionate way possible!

Nishinoya

The way you met is always told as a story at family lunches. You were passing by the gym by chance, and a ball he received flew out of the place and ended up in your face. He apologized a million times and even offered to buy you a popsicle for a whole week.

But after that you understood each other and became friends, until you got to where you are now!

He simply LOVES you to be clingy with him, as he returns your affections with the same intensity as you. People on the outside assume you were meant for each other since your personalities match up so well.

Anywhere and anytime you are always together in some way, whether it's clasping hands, hugging, kissing; you are rarely separated from each other.

But unfortunately there are times when you aren't always together, after all you don't live in the same house and you have your own clubs to go to. So you guys are always messaging each other on your cell phone!

If someone doesn't ask him to stop using his cell phone to talk to you, he could easily spend the whole day just sending you silly audios of him singing a random song he heard somewhere.

Kenma

One day, you saw him playing one of your favorite games, so you started talking to him. And you spent a few days talking until you had the courage to ask for his phone number, which he gave you almost immediately (but he would never admit he was excited about it for you)

Kenma spoke more freely through messages than in person, so you almost always talked about various things: games you're playing at the moment, movies, series, about your day. And with that you ended up becoming closer, until you started dating.

You know that Kenma is someone who is quite shy, so at the beginning of the relationship you weren't so clingy in public with him. But when the two of you were alone, you loosened up a little and became much more affectionate.

At first he was always very shy when you initiated physical affection with him, but after a while he relaxed more and managed to adapt to your way of showing affection to him.

You would from time to time be seen literally clinging to each other, with him playing on his console and with his head resting on your shoulder, and you hugging him. As much as he doesn't like PDA that much, he finds your presence and your touches so comforting that he ends up giving in a little.

Kuroo once went to Kenma's house to get something he had left there the last time he went there, and when he entered he found him hugging you with his face buried in the crook of your neck. After some deadly glares from the boy, Kuroo promised he wouldn't tell anyone.

A/N — Tysm for your request!! I wish I had added more characters, but recently I've been very busy so I was afraid it would take too long for me to do this one.💔💔

I hope you enjoyed it!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x fem!reader #haikyuu #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya fluff #kozume kenma x reader #kozume kenma #kenma fluff #hq kenma #hq nishinoya

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 1.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, alcohol, explicit content: jungkook has sex with a girl at the party, he overhears OC and Hoseok (no details), mentions of Jungkook knowing about the Incident

☆word count: 1.6k

☆a/n: wrote this in like twenty minutes after being unable to write for a few weeks, let's go :))))) hope you guys enjoy <3

☆join the discord server here!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook has been playing beer pong with Jimin for a while. They’re undefeated, like they most always are, and he’s buzzed with victory, but not alcohol because of course he’s not drinking tonight.

Mostly, he’s buzzed because he just beat you and the guy you were playing with, the one that looks a little too comfortable next to you. So Jungkook teases you about the game, his heart rate spiking momentarily as you blush lightly and playfully glare at him.

It’s been doing that every time he teases you since he met you last semester, and he’s grown addicted to it, which might be the reason why he teases you all the time. But then the guy interrupts, asking you if you want a drink.

“Please, I need a new drink,” you answer.

The guy smiles, and Jungkook can’t help himself. He reaches out, grabbing your arm gently to attract your attention. “I’m not drinking tonight,” he says after he let go of you. “I came with my car, thought I’d offer you a ride home.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “What?”

“As long as you don’t get sick, that is,” Jungkook teases, a smirk playing with the corners of his mouth. 

You don’t answer for a few seconds, but then you let out, “Ayt.” You move closer to him, a smile growing on your lips. “I’ll find you later?”

Jungkook is aware that you’re close now. Close enough so that he sees the way your eyes are sparkling with mischief as you look up at him, head tilted back. His tongue pushes on the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, and then he smirks as he glances at Hoseok before looking at you again.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

He means it. He fully does, yet he forces himself to leave then, even though you looked like you might want to say something else.

Later, when you return in Jungkook’s vicinity, all he can notice is the bright red hickey that’s appeared on your neck, and he clenches his jaw, only to relax it a few seconds later. Especially as you glance at him, asking Jimin and him not to tell Taehyung about the guy you apparently were kissing a moment ago.

As the hickey on your neck seems to indicate, too.

“Lips sealed,” Jungkook says.

“Didn’t feel like playing with your friends?” Jimin asks you, not replying to your request, and Jungkook notices the two girls at the beer pong table. The pretty one meets his gaze for a few seconds - Ria, he thinks - and he smiles at her, only for her to look away immediately.

“They don’t need me,” you claim as you take a sip of what looks to be rum and coke.

“Pretty sure you’d be a liability anyway,” Jungkook jokes.

That cute blush reappears on your cheeks, and Jungkook’s heart warms for a few seconds, right as he and Jimin laugh.

“I did get the redemption shot!” you say, and Jungkook can’t help himself.

He can’t help himself but nudge you with his elbow playfully. “Doesn’t count, your little boyfriend got all the other shots for you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you insist quickly.

“Of course not,” Jungkook says, cocking an eyebrow.

Jimin intervenes, “Leave her alone. She did her best.” It’s his turn to smile mischievously. “Not her fault if her best sucks.”

“Bruh,” you let out, and then you’re all laughing.

Jungkook likes this. You rarely hang out with him and Jimin, but he’s always found you fun to be around, despite the fact that you are Taehyung’s sister.

The way you occasionally make his heart race in his chest probably contributes to it.

You and Jimin start talking, and Jungkook finds himself joining in the conversation less and less. Perhaps because the pretty almond eyes of a certain Shelly have attracted his attention, even though you’re right here beside him. He excuses himself, and then he’s walking towards Shelly who smiles at him knowingly.

It’s not too long until Jungkook is buried inside of her in the upstairs bathroom, and though he usually takes his time with her, tonight he only pursues his pleasure, filling up the condom with cum before he’s made sure to please her.

Shelly doesn’t mind. She’s playful about it, teasing Jungkook, and he just kisses her deeply before pulling away. They clean up and get dressed, and when they’re ready, Jungkook grabs her hand and pulls her out of the bathroom.

Only to be met by your startled gaze the second he opens the door.

He lets go of Shelly’s hand almost instantly, holding your gaze but not saying anything. Shelly must have sensed the awkwardness slowly seeping in the atmosphere, because she leaves, not once looking back.

“Really?” you let out.

Jungkook pokes his cheek with his tongue before laughing lightly. “You told me not to fuck at home anymore.”

You purse your lips. “Didn’t expect you would respect it.”

“I’m not an asshole, peach,” Jungkook says, and it’s a little cold, a little mean. He can’t help it - it’s offensive to him that you didn’t believe him when he said he wouldn’t bring his hookups at home anymore. Like maybe his word is worth nothing, when he prides himself in trying to always respect it.

“Sorry,” you apologize.

There’s a silence, and Jungkook folds his arms on his chest as he leans against the door frame. He feels like he should say something, but he doesn’t know what, so he contents himself with looking at you as you clearly seem awkward under his gaze.

“Jimin went home,” you finally say.

A group of people appears at the top of the stairs, and Jungkook pushes up from the door frame, walking towards you. “Do you want to go home too?”

You tilt your head back so that you can meet his gaze. “You already want to go home?” You wet your lips, immediately attracting Jungkook’s gaze.

He scoffs. “I’m not drinking, I don’t see why I’d stay longer.”

“Why aren’t you drinking anyway?”

He offers you a smile. “Got morning shift at the library tomorrow.”

“Ah… Well…” You glance at the group of people as they exit the room where the coats are, and then look back to Jungkook. “My friend is supposed to sleep over, can I go find him?”

And though he was buzzing with the ecstasy from coming just a moment ago, Jungkook finds annoyance replacing it.

“Who?”

“Hoseok,” you reply.

“Ah, the guy you played beer pong with.” Jungkook smirks. “Thought he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

You furrow your brows. “He isn’t.”

“Then why are you bringing him home, peach?” Jungkook asks.

He doesn’t like your teasing answer. Doesn’t like that you tell him to imagine. Because he does. He fucking does, and he’s clenching his jaw as you all walk to his car a little later, the arctic winter night doing nothing to ease his annoyance. 

He doesn’t like the guy - Hoseok - getting a weird vibe from him that he blames on the fact that he knows you masturbated to the sounds of him and Shelly having sex a few days ago. It’s made him all too aware of you, as if he wasn’t enough already, and he doesn’t like that you’ll be with the guy in just a moment.

You reach his car, getting in, and Jungkook clenches his jaw as you choose to sit on the backseat with Hoseok. He meets your gaze in the rearview mirror, almost wanting to tell you to come sit with him in the front, but he refrains, not wanting to make a fool out of himself.

When he deems the car hot enough to drive, Jungkook starts driving, heading back home. He puts the radio on, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel to the beat of the song, up until he notices Hoseok getting closer to you on the backseat.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Hoseok tells you.

Jungkook’s fingers stop drumming on the wheel.

“Please don’t judge the state of the apartment,” you say, leaning closer to Hoseok. “This idiot doesn’t know how to -”

Jungkook almost bursts out laughing, because he’s always made sure to keep his living space clean but instead, he slams on the breaks, smiling contentedly when you and Hoseok both sit back in your respective seats.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though he doesn’t mean it at all.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence, as Jungkook tries his best not to think about what you’re about to do. It’s sinful, to think of you that way, yet he can’t help it.

Especially not as, about twenty minutes later, he has a front row seat to the sounds of the action in your room, and his dick goes rock hard in his pants. 

He curses, ignoring his erection, instead putting on his earbuds, turning up the volume until he can’t hear you anymore. It doesn’t do anything to his imagination, which still runs wild with thoughts of you, but at least he doesn’t have to hear you anymore.

He sighs, lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, focusing on the fixture that he’s almost never turned on since he moved in because he prefers using his LED lights. It does nothing to distract him from his arousal, so he curses again, rolling on his side.

This night promises to be a long night.

Read chapter one here!

☆☆☆☆☆

hope you guys liked it!! jk's not much a loverboy in this one but that's bc he's in deep denial haha :') let me know what you thought about the drabble!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

#chasing cars ch 1.5 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

[skibeegames]

Sul Sul <3

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hi, my name is Skye (She/her) and I am new to posting on Simblr but have been on Simblr quite a while and have been on Tumblr for a decade.

I recently turned 23 and am from the UK, I started playing the sims when I was a little kid and my love started with the Sims 2. I have been playing Sims 4 on and off since it came out but have been playing more consistently since 2021 when I got my first gaming laptop and started cozy gaming.

Here is my Simself:

I now play on PC so I have a very heavily edited game. I love taking screenshots of my sims and using different reshade presets to give off different vibes, so I am very excited to share those pictures.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

In terms of myself I like cottagecore and grandmacore things a lot and I like everything cosy obviously. I am also a content creator and I post cosy gaming content but it is predominantly Sims and Disney Dreamlight Valley but I like other games such as Palia and Coral Island and Animal Crossing. In my free time I also like games like Fortnite and horror/survival games.

Here is my Simself youtube video, if you're interested:

Like stated in my bio, I will predominantly be posting storytelling for my legacy families, building (which I love doing the most) and CAS.

I would very much appreciate any reblogs or likes and I can't wait to find mutuals on here and to see everyone's pretty posts . I hope you enjoy my future Simblr posts. I will be aiming to post at least once or twice a day.

You can mainly find me on tiktok, youtube and instagram and pinterest, any other socials are on my blog but all under the name @ skibeegames <3

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

#the sims 4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 #ts4 screenshots #new simblr #new sims blog #ts4 simmer #show us your sims #simblr #sims 4 cc #ts4 cas #new simblr alert #ramblings

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

You aren’t disproving the butler lover allegations

[Referencing this post!]

OKAY BUT I'VE NEVER DENIED THAT THAT'S A TROPE I LIKE, I’VE BEEN PRETTY OPEN ABOUT THIS 🤡

Related: I don’t know if it’s book 7, all the Silver-adjacent designs I’ve been seeing in other mobile games I’ve been playing (Elbert from Ikemen Villains and Alkaid + Cael from Lovebrush Chronicles), the realization that Silver is a prince/knight/“big brother” figure, my middle-school “I like princes/knights/big bros” phase resurfacing, or a combination of all four factors… but recently, I’ve found myself enjoying Silver a lot more 🤔 Well, a certain kind of Silver at least. I'm not fully reverting back to liking "vanilla" characters but instead it's mixing with my updated "villainous" interests and is resulting in a weird scenario of me trying my darndest to get Silver to break and go apeshit (while Silver is oblivious and confused about why I'm shouting at him to "step on me"; "... Won't that hurt? I don't want to harm you." "THAT'S THE POINT, THAT'S THE WHOLE POOOOOINT--")

And now, relevant memes:

#twisted wonderland #twst #Silver #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #lovebrush chronicles #elbert greetia #ikevil #ikemen villains #notes from the writing raven #cael anselm #aklaid mcgrath #is this considered silver rot…? not sure

[sylvaridreams]

Could be drawn and quartered for saying this but I'll risk it. Genuinely I love Livia. She's so unbelievably funny to me. My first encounter with her was actually last spring bc I didn't get to play that part of lws3 until 2023 (wow) and I thought she was soooo fucking funny. She's trapped in a bloodstone puzzle and needs your help to escape but I STRUGGLED with this puzzle and could not for the life of me figure it out and if you take too long she starts MOCKING YOU for it. It's so funny. Trapped by magic and she's like (snidely) "oh do you need a hint? For this simple puzzle for children? Do you need a little help? Is that what the great Pact Commander needs is a little help with a puzzle for babies? Maybe let's get some disadvantaged uneducated orphans in here and they can show you." And then you work with her through the end of lws3 and she continues to be hilarious. And I'm certain that a lot of people dislike her for that reason. She doesn't bathe in your excellence. She spends some fair amount of time treating you like a fool and a nuisance that she grows mildly warm towards.

Like when this bit dropped in SotO and people rushed to be like NOT MY COMMANDER! DOESNT APPLY TO MY COMMANDER! No? Alright, tell me your thoughts about why you hate Livia. ^_^ ohhh cuz she's rude and disrespectful to you? Oh noooooo... oh noooo is that why...!

Like it's not actually an issue to me. I don't care if people have differing opinions on a character, I don't care if the reason for disliking her IS "she's disrespectful and rude and I think I/my Commander deserve respect" like alright go off! I just find it funny. And a bit sad that she then gets trashed as like WORST CHARACTER IN THE GAME! WE ALL HATE HER ASS! Well I talked to Livia just yesterday. And she didn't even mention you. You didn't come up at all. And I texted her just now to ask about you and she was like "who?" So I think this might be a one way thing you have here. Sad!

And I'm sure for some percentage people it's also her combined race + gender! Black woman who talks down to you a bit and comments on your ineptitude. I'm sure that sits poorly with some players out there. Especially those seeking escape as the flawless genius loved-by-all hero of the story. It's not dissimilar to the years-long grudge some players hold against Braham for (checks notes) cold-shouldering you and pushing you away while grieving his dead mother as a teenager, and daring to make a stupid choice or two in the decade to follow. And for not basking in your excellence during. Whilst black. Idk. I'm no expert. I'm just the guy who enjoys things. The enjoyerrrrrrrrrr.

#this post was my lunch break. back to work! 😊

[tetrakys]

As a close friend of Chinomiko, how does your conversations go when it’s about mcl new gen, I’m pretty curious 🤭🤭 Because she probably can’t you stuff, so when you talk about your theories about each episode, she just sits and listens? heheh I wouldn’t be able to be her friend, I would probably beg her to spoil me!!

Ahah funny you say that because it's kinda the opposite, she knows I don't want to be spoiled in any way when it comes to plot or illustrations so no I don't discuss theories with her at all, that's what the fandom is for. We have often worked side by side on our own things and I'm not even tempted to snoop, I want to enjoy the games.

Of course it would be disingenuous to say that we don't talk about the games at all. We chat a lot about the characters, their personalities, not only New Gen but all her characters and OCs (her elf thief Thael? You'll see, he's going to be my Lance 2.0 😭💕😭💕). We also read the same books and talk about romance in general, tropes, things that people like and don't like. I do bring a player perspective when we chat about possible themes, and of course not everyone has my tastes and I absolutely don't act as if I'm representing the whole fandom, but I've been playing for so long that I can give suggestions on things I know the majority of players would hate or like.

For example, people were super scared that one of the LIs could possibly cheat at some point in the game, and I know for sure this is never going to happen because we've talked about this kind of things a lot. She miiiight create drama and make the MC and players think this is happening, just because she likes to torture her characters (and us all), but it won't actually happen. So, I guess in a sense I do have a different perspective on things, just because I know her and her tastes and opinions.

About New Gen, I honestly know nothing about what's going to happen, other than the fact that we will have more personal interactions with Jason starting the next episode, and that the story in general is kinda light hearted, there isn't going to be any real drama or deep plot. We should see it more as a sitcom than a drama, if we compared it to a tv show. And that's pretty much it 🤔 I'm trying hard to think if there's anything else I know that you guys may not know by this point but I can't think of anything. I do know she's many episodes ahead, but this isn't a secret, it was said many times even when working on other games, that the Bees are always at least one year ahead of us, so everything we see was planned a while ago, they can't really incorporate current feedback.

Would you really ask to be spoiled anon? I know it's tempting but I want to be surprised while playing the game 😌 I need to slowly fall in love 💕

#also I don't ask but I do harass #cute harassment of course... about more hot Jason scenes 🤭🤭 #mcl #my candy love #mcl new gen

[cameronspecial]

Hey, I was thinking of something cute for Zach Maclaren, something where he and the reader have been dating for a short time, and even though they've already been intimate, the reader is still shy, and maybe she wants to touch her abs and pecs from Zach, but don't know how to do it? and Zach thinks this is cute?

Body Of A God

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Masterlist

The heat from the sun creates moisture in the air that clings to everyone’s skin. As she fans herself with her hand, her gaze falls on her boyfriend. They’ve been dating for a month now and she finally decided it was time for him to meet her friends, so a picnic was quickly arranged, which is where Y/N finds herself now. She sits on a picnic blanket, nibbling on some cheese with Angela, while some of their other friends are playing soccer on the grass with her boyfriend. The ball goes flying into the net and this gives Zach a break while everyone else celebrates. He lifts his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face. Y/N’s eyes make contact with the lines on his stomach and she bites her lip.

They’ve been intimate before, allowing her the opportunity to run her hands all over his abs. However, sometimes, she feels the need to place her hands on his belly to feel how the muscles move under her hand as he breathes. She doesn’t know how to ask him though. She’s never been in a situation where she wants to touch someone (Other than holding hands, hugging or resting a head on a friend’s shoulder) in a non-sexual manner.

Feeling someone’s gaze on him, Zach’s eyes flicker to his girlfriend to find her ogling his abs. He smirks to himself and runs over to her. “Hey, Angela. Do you mind stepping in on the field for me? I need a break,” he requests to her friend. Angie nods and runs into the game. He nestles himself beside Y/N, throwing his arm around her shoulder. “You okay, Baby?” he mumbles. She turns to him, “Yeah. Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know… You seem to be staring at me a lot. And while I am flattered, I’m beginning to believe you think something is wrong with my stomach.”

Her head shakes from side to side, “No. No. Nothing is wrong with your stomach. I think it’s perfect. Very pretty.” 

Embarrassment creeps up on her through a warmth on her cheeks. She shuts her mouth and buries her head in his neck to hide her face. He gives a light-hearted smile, “Aww, don’t be embarrassed, Baby. I think it’s cute. Now, why don’t you tell me why you were looking so much.” She takes a deep breath and bites her bottom lip. “I want to touch your stomach,” she whispers. He brings his hand to his ear with a teasing smile, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. Can you say that again?” She sighs and looks him in the eyes. “I want to put my hand on your abs.” He smirks. His hand reaches to pick hers up and places it on the lines of his belly. “All you had to do is ask, Baby. There is nothing more I enjoy than feeling your skin on mine.” The skin is smooth and a little damp from the heat. The pads of her fingers trace the perpendicular dips in his skin. It tickles him. 

“How does it feel?” he questions.

She smiles at him and presses a kiss to his lips, “Like the body of a god.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #zach maclaren fluff #zach maclaren x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction

[foreverfangirlsblog]

Redemption (Husk x Reader)

Summary:

The reader and Husk try to get redeemed but one of them is left behind. Will they be able to meet again? Or is their relationship over?

Notes:

Word count: 3012

You and Husk were in his room, laying comfortably in each others embrace. It’s moments like these that you loved. Just you and him with no worries about soul binding deals, war with angels, or even getting redeemed. Just you laying with your big kitty, purring as you cuddled.

Admittedly you have been thinking about getting redeemed a lot recently. You and Angel have been working really hard towards redemption but have yet to get anywhere with it at the same time. You quietly sighed and Husk noticed right away. He nuzzled his face into the space between your collar bone and neck. “What’s wrong love?”

You hesitated a bit before speaking “I’m just wondering if we’ll ever get redeemed. If we’ll ever get out of this literal hell hole”

Husk tensed up a bit from your words. He knew that your goal here was to actually get redeemed, unlike him. Yet you still phrased it as “we” as in you and him, together. You always were a positive thinker, contradicting his glass half empty attitude. You had so much faith in him getting redeemed, he just couldn’t see it. “If anyone can get redeemed and welcomed into heaven it’s you doll”

You smiled at his words. “I guess this place isn’t total hell, not since I have you” you kissed his cheeks one at a time, then his forehead, then his cute little heart nose. He laughed at you sweetly before bringing your face to his for a short but passionate kiss.

“It’s just a matter of time”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Everyone gather around!! I have great news!”

You and Husk were at the bar, chatting together. Upon hearing Charlie announce for everyone to gather you both walked over to the lobby, sitting side by side on the couch.

Once everyone was in the lobby waiting anxiously for Charlie’s announcement she began to speak. “Alright so I’ve been allowed a meeting with heaven. Seems like they’re finally going to consider redemption as an option!”

At first there was silence, no one sure what to say. Last time Charlie had a similar announcement it resulted in a war with the angels and Sir Pentious dying…..

Husk was the first one to speak what was on everyone’s mind “You mean just like last time? When it resulted in us getting in deeper shit with heaven?” Of course he was skeptical, you all were. But how could you not hold onto hope.

“This time is different” Charlie said confidently, she didn’t explain how or why but told us to trust her, and you did. She told everyone to stay in the hotel, suggested having a game night or movie night while she’s gone. Then, her and Vaggie left to their meeting in heaven.

“Well might as well get comfortable” you said has you leaned into Husk then snuggled deeper into him. Angel and Cherri debated on which movie to watch. We ended up putting it to a vote and chose the less violent option that Angel surprisingly chose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You were leaning back, practically on top of Husk’s chest as he played with your hair instead of watching the movie.

You all finished the first movie by now and went onto your second choice, a basic romance. Everyone acted like they didn’t like your movie at first but you could tell they were enjoying it, at least no one fell asleep yet.

Suddenly a bright light shone down from somewhere in the sky. ‘But how is that possible? We’re inside?’ You thought to yourself. Then you realized that the light wasn’t just shining down on the room, it was shining down on you.

Your whole body felt warm, and almost tingly. Your back particularly started to almost vibrate. That’s when you also realized that you were floating, no, levitating upwards.

“Husk?!” You called out in a panic. Your body was levitated above his now, far enough that you could only hold onto his hand as he reached for you.

“Y/N?! What the the hell??”

“More like what the heaven” Angel suggested.

Husk glared at him quickly before realizing, he was right. This had to be Heaven. You were getting redeemed.

“It’s okay Y/N. You did it, you’re a winner.” He squeezed your hand to comfort you best he can “you’re going to a better place now” he smiled sadly at you before slowly letting go of your left hand.

“Husk no. We’re supposed to go together, I want you to come with me!” There were tears forming in your eyes as your body floated further and further away, the only thing keeping you down was your right hand holding onto his like your afterlife depended on it.

His heart broke seeing you this sad, and even though he wasn’t sure he promised you “I’ll see you soon, don’t you worry”. With that Husk softly kissed the back of your right hand before letting go.

You were now on your way up to heaven. Your eyes glowed an unnatural golden color. Your entire color pallet now shifted from dark hues to light. And now, you had magnificent wings sprouted from your back, even larger than Husk’s.

Then you were gone, the light was gone. All that was left was Husk by himself staring at the spot where he once held you, and his friends gathered around him.

“Well shit” Angel said awkwardly trying to fill the silence.

Before Husk could even think about saying anything another portal opened. His ears perked up, he got excited hoping it would be you. He should’ve known it was too soon. It was just Charlie and Vaggie.

“YAYY!!!” Charlie said excitedly as she stepped through the porta, back into the hotel lobby. “The angel council decided to redeem one of you as a tester! Isn’t that….great” she was excited to reveal the good news but faltered off at the end when she noticed the grim faces on everyone. “What’s wrong?”

“They took Y/N” Cherri told Charlie.

She gasped before turning to Vaggie, exchanging a knowing glance. “Oh Husk I’m so sorry”

Husk couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t do anything. He just sat there silently. Hoping it was all some bad dream, like all the other times. But it wasn’t.

“Hey I have an idea!” Charlie exclaimed trying to lighten the mood. “Why don’t we go visit her!”

Husk perked up again. “You really think we could see her??” He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I don’t see why not! They want Y/N to be an example! What better way than to show you all what it’s like after you’re redeemed??”

Husk nodded at this, happy for the chance to see you again, but still didn’t want to get his hopes up. “That sounds good Charlie”

~~~~~~~~~~~~ A month went by before they were able to schedule a meeting to visit Y/N. Charlie had brought the idea up to Emily and she was also for it! Excited even. Although she said only after you became officially settled. So Husk waited. A whole month. Damn was it the longest month in his entire existence.

To say he missed you would be an understatement, it didn’t describe the severity of the situation well enough. He missed your presence. At the bar while he worked, at Charlie’s exercises, and especially at night in his bed. It felt empty and cold without you, even if he had thick fur. He missed your soft touches, your genuine smile, your sweet voice, your intoxicating kisses.

He had actually been on really good behavior recently. Everyone noticed it. He stopped drinking heavily, he participated in more activities Charlie planned, he was really trying to keep his promise to you. He never thought it was possible before but now you were proof, and like hell he’d let his stubbornness prevent him from seeing you again. So he caved, he’ll become the nicest sinner in all of hell if it meant he’d get to hold you in his arms again.

Today was finally the day. The day everyone got to visit you in heaven. He was restless all night and barely slept. He was first in the lobby ready to go, even before Charlie. His fur was more tamed than usual, his teeth brushed, and even managed to put on his best outfit. He was going to see you today, and it meant everything to him.

*Yawnnn* “You’re here early Husk” Vaggie said as he came down to the lobby.

“Isn’t it obvious! He’s looking forward to see Y/N!!” Charlie squealed in response for Husk “looking nice buddy!” She nudged him with her elbow suggestively. Husk couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed, was it that obvious he was looking forward to this all month?

“Listen Husk-“ Vaggie started. Before she could continue Angel, Cherri and Niffty met them downstairs.

“Alright bitches let’s go visit heaven!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~ Husk and the others were all put into a conference room somewhere in heaven. They didn’t really get the grand tour like Charlie did the first time she was there. Not that Husk minded, he just wanted to see you.

It was obvious Husk was on edge waiting for you, his fur was standing up and his ears were pinned straight against his head. He twitched at every little sound he heard till finally, he saw you enter the room with Emily and Saint Peter.

‘Finally’ he thought to himself, before quickly running to hug you tightly. “Y/N!” He hugged you closer than ever before with his entire being, his tail wrapped around your torso, his wings shielding you from everyone else. All his worries melted away once he had you in his arms and could smell the familiar scent that was you.

“Husk there’s something you need to know” Vaggie said quietly to Husk.

He was going to ignore her but she snapped him out of his trance, he finally realized….you were still within his embrace but you weren’t hugging him back. He knew something was wrong. He untangled himself from around you and looked at closely. “Y/N what wrong?” He asked worriedly examining your face. You looked okay…

“I’m so sorry…” You turned to Saint Peter and Emily confused, “How does he know my name?”

Husks heart shattered. “Y/N, stop-stop messing around it me. It’s Husk.”

You just looked at him with pity and confusion. He hated that look, he never thought he could hate a look on your face but there he was hating that look, wishing it would go away, “I’m sorry I don’t know you have we met before?”

Everyone in the room was dumbfounded, well everyone except for the angels, current and fallen.

“Y/N you’re the love of my life. I’m-I think I’m-I thought I was yours. It’s me” Husk’s words were messy and shaken now as he stepped away from you slightly.

“I’m really sorry I think you’re confusing me with someone else. You do seem very lovely though” you smiled sadly at him stepping back, furthering the distance between the two of you.

He didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but just then it did. His heart broke into a million pieces.

He quickly turned away from you to hide his tears. Angel came up and tried to comfort him but Husk just pushed him away.

“What the hell is going on here” Angel demanded.

“Emily why doesn’t Y/N remember Husk?” Charlie added in concern.

Emily sighed and stepped to them while Saint Peter guided you elsewhere. “I thought you knew….once you become an angel you forget sinners”

“What?!” Everyone asked irritated

“What do you mean forget sinners???” Angel yelled “You mean to tell me my sisters up here and she just doesn’t remember her family?! Y/N doesn’t remember the love of her life??? What kind of bullshit logic is that?!” Angel’s comment threw everyone a little off guard, not everyone knew he had a sister, nor did he talk about her being in heaven.

Emily gave a look of sympathy “It makes it easier for the soul to transition, Y/N was in so much pain being ripped away from the people she came to love. Forgetting was the only way…..otherwise….she may have just gone back down”

“That’s bullshit” Husk growled “you can’t just take away someone’s life”

“Technically it’s not her life, it’s her afterlife” Saint Peter said.

Husks growling grew louder and rage fired his eyes. He was ready to claw those wings right off of that stupid angel. He saw the was he interacted with you, who the fuck did he think he was.

Before Husk could pounce multiple people were now holding him back.

“I’m sorry everyone I truly am”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Hotel the spirit was worse than ever, amongst everyone.

“I’m really sorry guys” Charlie apologized. In return everyone mumbled an “it’s okay you didn’t know”

“But I knew” Vaggie said, “I’m so sorry I wanted to tell you all, warn you. But I thought that maybe it would be different this time”

No one knew what to say but Husk didn’t care anymore. He got up and left to seclude himself in his room. What did anything matter now? If Y/N didn’t remember him all the work he’d done this past month to be with her was pointless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed since the meeting and Husk had lost all progress he made. Charlie was growing especially concerned for him “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Husk this drunk before” Charlie said nervously, looking over to the bar where Husk sat drinking himself away despite it being 9am.

“Well what do you expect. The only person who made him happy down in this literal hell hole forgot he existed” Angel said matter of factly.

“I know I just wish he would still work on himself, just because she doesn’t remember him now doesn’t mean there’s not hope”

Angel hummed at this and decided to risk approaching the drunken feline. “Hey you’re cut off” Angel said taking the bottle away from Husk

“The fuck you say spider freak?” Husk snapped

“I said you’re. Cut. Off.” Husk started growling at Angel and was ready to try and snatch the bottle back but Angel was one step ahead of him and stepped back, causing Husk to trip over himself drunkenly. “Dammit Husk you’re really going to sit around here moping when Y/N is up there waiting for you??”

“She’s not waiting for me” Husk hissed “she doesn’t even remember me anymore”

“Who the fuck cares?!” Husk became confused “You promised Y/N before she went up there that you’d try your best to get up there with her. You made that promise before, who cares if she forgot. You’re really gonna make yourself a liar to the one person you care about?? You’re just going to GIVE UP on the one person who made you a tolerable asshole instead of an intolerable jackass?” Husk blinked at him, processing the information he was just given. Angel wasn’t entirely wrong. How could he break this promise to Y/N. Does it really matter if she forgot him? Maybe if he can follow her he could win her back? Was that too cheesy to hope for? Isn’t that how love is supposed to work?

“I hate you when you’re right” Husk pouted crossing his arms “You’re wrong about one thing though, she’s not the only one I care about” Husk gave Angel a soft smile.

“That’s more like it, come on let’s get you to bed. You got a lot of work to do bud”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since that wake up call from Angel Husk really did try to change his ways. Maybe it didn’t matter if you forgot him, he remembered you and always would, that’s enough for him. He’d hold onto the memories you created together and cherish them. And maybe, just maybe you could still make more.

When Husk was eventually redeemed it was unexpected. He hadn’t done any heroic act, or done anything particularly kind at all, it was just a normal day. The sensation was dramatic and unfamiliar, identical to the light show he saw you go through. Although this time he saw his friends proudly wish him good luck as he rose to the heaven, to you.

Overall he noticed his appearance was generally the same just lighter. The reds were dulled down to dark pinkish colors instead. His clothes were also white instead of black, his wings now white and pink.

As soon as he regained composure and steadied himself he frantically looked around the empty room “Y/N??” He called out desperately.

“I’m sorry it’s just me” Emily said emerging from the shadows.

Husk tensed slightly but still had hope “Where Y/N? Can I see her please?” He asked nervously.

“Husk…I don’t know what will happen when you see her, I can’t guarantee that she will remember you again or even want to talk to you considering what happened last time”

“I need to know” Husk said firmly despite Emily’s warning.

“Alright I’ll send for-“ before Emily could finish her sentence the doors slammed open, startling her and Husk.

Y/N stood in the doorway looking out of breath and a bit panicked, but still beautiful. “Husk?!” She yelled into the room scanning it to find him. As soon as her eyes landed on him tears welded up in her eyes “HUSK YOURE FINALLY HERE!”

Emily was shocked and so was Husk as you ran and engulfed him into a big warm hug. Despite his initial shock he melted immediately in your arms. “I miss you so much” his voice said, barely above a whisper into your chest.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you” you squeezed him before pulling away slightly “I’m-I’m so-“

“Shhhh it’s okay” Husk comforted, bringing you back into the hug. “I’m here and we’re finally together, that’s all that matters”

You smiled. “Now we’re both winners”

“That we are love”

#hazbin hotel #husk one shot #husk x reader #husk/reader #husker hazbin hotel #husker x reader #hazbin hotel husk

[blueskittlesart]

i see discussion abt the traveler in the notes of a reblog and i think it’s very interesting you say that bc honestly i think it’s the amount of disconnect present in The Twins Themselves and The Player that intrigues me but also intensely frustrates me. it feels like “the traveler”/you as a person playing the game and lumine/aether/the twin chosen are two separate entities and honestly that could be Really interesting if it was acknowledged and could fit in nicely with some of the vague themes of otherworldly/fourth-wall breaking stuff and personal autonomy they’ve got going on. but Nope! i think this is yet another issue of the Gacha Mechanic too in a way bc honestly all of the instances of x character bonding with The Traveler ends up pissing me off REAL bad lmaooo. i would much rather there be some kind of genuine distinction in the twin’s dialogue too bc the whole idea of. “oh this character you are playing is Their Own Character but also they have the exact same story interactions and dialogue as their twin” is just. Eeufhhh. maybe this is just a lot of personal issues i have with the setup because i am someone who not only enjoys lore but also characterization and character interactions with other characters and the world around them and i am not a fan of when a You The Player character is thrown into that. sorry for dumping this here i just need to let out these thoughts somewhere

I think what it comes down to is that on launch hyv was worried about player immersion but reluctant to commit to a true silent protagonist. in most actual gameplay, the protagonist twin functions as a silent protagonist, meaning a blank-slate character with no autonomy, completely at the mercy of the actions the player chooses for them. (the only exception to this rule is A-plot quests which directly involve their sibling.) But in the A-plot of the story at large, the twins, regardless of which one you choose, are NOT blank slates in any sense, and that's what leads to the disconnect during gameplay.

Silent protagonists are a method of storytelling unique to video games and they're specifically a vessel to further player immersion, the idea being that a player character whose backstory and personality are unknown or nonexistent is much easier to insert one's self into, thus creating a more immersive experience for the player. I think that this was probably the original intent behind the twins, at least to a certain extent, and is likely at least part of the reason that hyv is still keeping all their story cards so close to their chest--the more we learn about the twins, the less our chosen twin functions as a silent protagonist. In a game with so many playable characters that AREN'T blank slates, hyv may have worried that having no designated player-insert character would break immersion from the get-go. However, the story planned for the game at large relied on a protagonist that was, from the very beginning, NOT a silent protagonist. the twins have personalities. they very obviously have backstories and pre-game relationships with each other at the very least. they have NAMES. The fact that genshin has you 'name' your character who quite literally already has a canonical name and gives you no reasoning behind that is one of the most glaring examples of this weird inconsistency in the writing imo. It almost seems like they want it both ways. they want a perfect silent protagonist for player immersion, but they ALSO want a protagonist who is tied up in the story because of their history and relationships and personality. and it doesn't work, because those two things are fundamentally incompatible. you cannot allow your players unlimited choice in the actions, thoughts, and feelings of your playable character while also requiring that character to make certain choices and have certain feelings and relationships for the story to progress. The result of attempting to do both is a story which promises unlimited choice to the players and then jerks them along in one direction anyways, which only results in frustration and immersion-breaking. there are plenty of ways to do a non-silent protagonist in a video game without sacrificing the player's experience, but what genshin has done is given us this weird worst-of-both-worlds combo that just. does not work.

#asks #sorry for all the genshinposting guys but im so used to using my video game writing hyperfixation to analyze GOOD writing that this is #actually an interesting change of pace. im fascinated by how many things went wrong here

[mixierupperc20]

I've been doing a lot of paper art recently, while listening to let's play on YouTube, That's when I came across this game called Imaginary Friend Asylum

I remember seeing a demo of it a while back, and the full game came out recently. The story of this game is so good, and oddly enough, it had my full attention.

Yes, a 2 hour let's play video. I especially enjoyed the different characters of the imaginary friends.

#imaginary friend asylum #pooly #polo #dolly #smudge #art #fan art #paper art

[annwrites]

thought this place was empty.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (part of a series)

— summary: billy finds you at a house in hawkins.

— tags: billy being infatuated with you just a lil

— tw: none

— word count: 1,984

— a/n: i love u ethel cain, tysm for the constant inspo; preacher's daughter is so amazing.

ooh i like this one, yes i do. i think this is the start of something good.

billy isn't going to be portrayed by me the same way he was in thoroughfare. he's an adult now & has grown into a man. i'm not saying he won't come off as a tad cocky at times, but he's going to be far more mature in this series.

He doesn't know why he cares so damn much. Why it piques his curiosity to begin with. But it does.

He'd, for the last two weeks, passed you every day on his way home from work.

You'd walk along the side of the road, before eventually turning off to the right, heading up a dirt path through the woods.

He wanted to know what was out there now. Some meadow? A swimming hole? A treehouse? He'd come up with many theories while sitting at home alone, having a microwavable dinner and a cold beer at the end of the night, hardly paying attention to whatever b-movie was playing on the little antenna color TV in front of him.

No. You were what he thought of. To an annoying level. He'd screwed up brake calipers one day at work with you on his mind. After that, he began to resent you a little. Some random girl with a backpack on her shoulders and no knowledge that he even existed.

He'd not even gotten to set eyes on your face yet. He'd taken in everything else he could, however.

Your long hair, tanned skin, the dresses and shorts you usually opted for in terms of attire, the bracelets that littered your wrists.

He would never, never admit to having gotten off one night in bed thinking about your tight backside swaying as you took step after step atop the same asphalt his tires rolled along. In truth, before that night, he couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered touching himself at all.

Once high school ended, and his father was no longer responsible for him, he'd been kicked out near-immediately and he'd changed as a person not long after. It'd been time to grow up. No more games.

He had crashed at this friend's place or that one's. Eventually, a homeless shelter or two. He worked odd-jobs until he saved up enough to begin renting an apartment. And then he found full-time employment at a mechanic shop. He stayed mostly to himself. The work was steady, the paychecks not usually all that much, but he saved little-by-little what he could, until he'd had enough for a down-payment on a fixer-upper on the outskirts of town.

He didn't want to live anywhere near where his father was.

He didn't mind the extra time it tacked onto his commute every day. Enjoyed it, really. It gave him time to think. Not that he wasn't always.

So, to get his head to quiet, he threw himself into work while at the shop, and into his new house once he was home every evening. The roof needed patching, the wiring re-done, the front steps replacing, the paint was chipping from the walls. The list was damn-near endless. But he liked that. It gave him something to do. His hands stayed occupied, if nothing else.

He earned a few more calluses in time from it all. He'd wondered once what you might think about a man with rough hands. Then wondered even more why the fuck he cared in the first place.

He didn't even know your name. And he was almost certain you were still in school. Unless you just liked carrying a backpack everywhere. Perhaps you went into those tall trees to camp. Perhaps a lot of things.

It's a Thursday when he finally decides to do it—follow you. Out of boredom, if nothing else. Or, that's the reasoning he gives himself, at least.

In truth, he wanted to know you. Ask you more questions than he was sure any normal person would probably be comfortable with. He wanted to see what was out here in the wilderness that seemed to draw you in so much that you returned day-after-day.

Then again, maybe you were meeting someone. A boyfriend, a girlfriend—a lover.

The thought makes his heart squeeze, which makes him feel just the least bit pathetic. He was no longer the boy he once was. The one that all other guys at Hawkins High wished to be, and all the girls there wished to be with. He'd become an after-thought to all of them now, he was sure. His glory days were long behind him.

But perhaps new memories could still be made.

The Camaro's tires crunch over twigs and dried leaves, rolling slowly between swaying trees of green, the path becoming more and more narrow until there's no place left for him to even turn around. He sighs, knowing he'll have to reverse the entire way back out of here.

He puts the sedan into park, exiting, his arms resting on the top of the car and the door frame as he gazes ahead, wondering what direction you'd possibly gone. He shakes his head then, closing and locking the driver's side door, pocketing his keys before—at least attempting, to follow after you.

The forest is littered with trees all around, Billy winding his way through them, looking back over his shoulder occasionally, wondering if he shouldn't head back to his car and go home. You were long gone by now. Maybe you'd already circled back around yourself, heading out and to...wherever it is that you live.

This was a stupid idea. Not that he hasn't had worse.

Just as he's ready to throw in the towel and settle for you remaining a mystery to him—perhaps he'd take the alternative of having answers to instead making up tales about you, who you are, where you go, and what you do when you get there—he comes into a clearing of tall grass, a rusted steel windmill in the distance, and a two-story house that looks just a tad dilapidated to the right of it.

Surely you weren't in there?

He continues walking, glad he's wearing pants as the weeds brush against his knees. He climbs the broken front steps, the wooden banisters rotting, until he's standing before a screen door at the front of the home—or, rather, house. A home at one time to someone, he was sure. But no longer, as it'd been clearly abandoned long-ago.

He raises his fist, wondering if maybe he should knock first, then lowers it.

He pulls the door toward him, stepping inside.

He takes a moment to look around first, glancing to each side of the empty domicile. A dining room is to his right, with a table that carpenter bees have clearly been making a meal out of for some time, and a sitting room to the left, an old sofa with missing cushions in the middle of it, a coffee table covered in dust before it.

He then heads for the staircase that lies straight-ahead.

The steps creak under his heavy boots, and he fears one of his feet may just fall through one if he doesn't step carefully. Once he's reached the second-story landing, he lets loose a small breath of relief.

He turns to his left and sees a long hallway, multiple doors on either side, some open, some closed, the summer sun shining against fading yellow wallpaper through open and broken windows within the rooms.

"Hello?" He calls, only half-expecting a response...which he's not given.

He begins to head down the hall, only peeking into the rooms as he passes them, looking for you.

"Anybody here?" He tries again, and is once again met with silence; only the sound of a gentle breeze outside greets him.

He stops when he finds a room three doors down on his right that has a dirty mattress on the floor. He doesn't want to imagine the things you'd discover—new kinds of bacteria—if you took a blacklight to it.

He stands in the middle of what he assumes used to be a bedroom, hands on his hips, and he looks to the open window at his right, a soft wind causing the tattered curtains to billow.

And then he hears it. A small creak to his left, and it's only then that he realizes there's a closet, with double doors, and he sees something shift on the other side through the wooden slits.

His heart begins to beat a bit faster as he comes closer, hands resting over the small knobs, and when he pulls it open, you're standing in the middle, back against the wall, staring up at him with wide eyes.

He looks down at you, heart skipping a beat, breath taken from him for just a moment at the sight of you. You were...beautiful.

"What're you hiding in a closet for?" He asks, then kicking himself. Hell of an opening, Billy.

Your brows furrow, wondering how it's not obvious. "I was hiding from you. Who...who are you?"

You take a step toward him and he takes one back.

He slides his hands into his pockets. "Billy...Hargrove. I live just-"

"I don't care. Why are you here?"

He raises a brow. Not quite the meek little mouse he'd initially assumed, then.

He takes a look around before settling his eyes back on you once again. "Thought this place was empty."

"Well...I'm here. I found it first."

His lip twitches. "So, this is where you've been coming every day for two weeks, huh?"

You shift uncomfortably. "How do you know that...?"

He jerks his head. "Saw you on my drive home last couple of weeks." He reaches up with his right hand then, running it over the curls at the back of his head nervously. "I got curious, I guess. About what was out here that was so interesting to make you keep coming back over and over again."

He looks back to the mattress, then to you. "You don't sleep here, do you, kid?"

You cross your arms at the infantilizing term. "I don't see how that's any of your business. Now that you know what's out here, feel free to leave."

He smirks. You were a firecracker. That much was for certain. Almost reminds him of himself once upon a time.

"Place looks like it should be condemned. If not tore down altogether."

You balk then. "You won't tell anyone. Will you?"

He shakes his head. "No. But, you do know it's not safe for you here, right? All alone like th-"

You pick up your backpack, shrugging it on. "I'm fine."

You head into another room, trying to get away from him—or, rather, hoping he'll finally get the hint that you'd like for him to leave—and he follows along behind you.

"Never told me your name."

You roll your eyes and stay silent.

He nods. "Strong, silent type, I get it. Guess I'll just have to guess. Is it-"

You turn back to him then, and he nearly trips trying not to fall against you. "Y/N."

He smiles. "Nice to meet you, Y/N."

You cock your head to the side for a moment. "I doubt it."

You head into another room then, slamming the door in his face.

He just grins as he turns the handle...and discovers it's now locked from the other side, smile falling.

He knocks then and is, of course, given no response.

He leans against the wall with his shoulder, arms crossed and he licks his lips. "I can wait all day. Got no place better to be."

All is quiet, until he hears something being shoved open on the other side of the door—a window? And then a thump.

Were...were you climbing down the side of the damn house?

He turns the handle again to no avail, so he then quickly walks down the hall, racing down the steps, and when he rounds the side of the house, he sees you jogging through the tall weeds, backpack bouncing as you disappear into the tree line.

He crosses his arms, smiling, shaking his head. "See you tomorrow, Y/N," he mutters to himself before turning around to start heading back to his car.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader) #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

[vampiric-hunger]

⊱─ 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: 𝕔𝕙. 𝟞 - 𝕖𝕟𝕧𝕪 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘:Ascended Astarion/f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, jealousy, arguing, asphyxiation, bondage, breast play, dubcon, underwear as a gag, smut, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, teasing, PiV, praise kink, vampire bites, caught while fucking, creampie.

➺ 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: you're skilled, driven and most importantly - ambitious. but even as someone in your position, a trained assassin and a leader of your own Guild, you still lend yourself to jobs that are of importance. even if those jobs sometimes mean attending parties. tonight - it's a masquerade and you're bored out of your mind, until the man who hired you to protect him leaves you alone, at the mercy of a stranger who suddenly took a keen interest in you.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 6,407

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: and we're getting close to the end! what a ride so far! i loved writing this chapter because writing jealousy and envy is always a lot of fun for me, but i digress! enjoy ♡~

➺ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: [link]

Upon your return you didn’t have a chance to send Astarion a message of any kind because the day after you came back the Duke himself demanded you accompany him to a celebratory ball. It appears one of his generals performed well in battle while you were away and begrudgingly you agreed. It would not do you well to scorn the ruler of Baldur’s Gate.

But as you are preparing for the ball, finding your finest dress and making sure that it’s clean and ironed, you wonder if you really have no time to send a message or if you simply don’t want to.

The answer comes simple – you don’t want to.

Not because you regret what happened in this very house two weeks ago before you left on a assassination mission to kill Princess, as you code-named her for secrecy, but because the thought of him turning you into one of his spawn haunts you.

He didn’t tell you that he abandoned the idea. No, he said nothing about that at all. And that’s something you cannot ignore.

While you dress and doll yourself up, you keep thinking about it, about the idea of being his like this and you realize that you really don’t want to be his thrall. That you don’t want to be his to command whenever he wishes. It’s already hard to assert yourself without that and how he cast Dominate on you proved exactly that without a shadow of doubt. It hangs heavily over you like a dark cloud, threatening to erupt in rain at any moment.

You know that before you see him next – you need to think, a lot. You need to figure out a way to give yourself what you want without giving Astarion what you are sure he will ultimately seek: your eternity.

When you finish preparing by hiding some smaller daggers on your person, you hear a carriage and a sound of horse hooves coming closer. You suspected that the Duke will send someone to pick you up to ensure that you show up. You find the man extremely predictable if not slightly paranoid. You don’t have an issue with that, you rub elbows with paranoid men every day.

The trip to the city center doesn’t take too long but you use that time to keep pondering upon the conflict in your mind and heart. Yes, you have to really and truly admit to yourself – you like Astarion. And it stretches beyond just carnal desire or the thrill of danger. You don’t even know why, you can’t answer this, what it is that exactly draws you to him like a moth to the flame, you just hope that the flame won’t consume you. And as you watch houses and people pass by the carriage window you feel a knot of dread in your stomach – you’re playing a very dangerous game with a man that holds unforeseen power in his hands.

Is risking your life really worth it? For something that could be just a fleeting fancy for either of you? And yet you realize that it’s too late for this already. While the carriage navigates the streets and begins slowing as it approaches a massive mansion in the middle of the city, you understand with a sinking feeling that you should’ve been honest with yourself and had this ‘conversation’ with your inner self before Astarion showed up at your house. But you didn’t know then that you will agree to… what exactly did you agree to? Another tryst? No, it didn’t feel like this sort of transient proposal from him. Not a relationship either, surely, too early for that, all you two did so far was fuck and shout at each other, a proper pissing contest between two very prideful people. Then what? You have no answer to that and have no time to think about this further as the carriage stops at last and the door opens, revealing the Duke in his best ensemble, offering a hand to you with a smile.

“Good evening.” he greets you before you take his hand and your skirts as you climb out of the carriage.

“Good evening to you too, Duke Sanolin.” you smile, easily slipping into your role of a perfectly pleasant, well-mannered noble woman. You don’t hate the role, but your words feel empty and shallow even when you greet the Duke.

“I take the road here was pleasant? City planners made sure to increase quality of the roads leading out of the city. Merchants have easier and swifter time traveling this way.” Duke starts boasting and you nearly recoil when you notice him offering you his elbow, but you just squeeze out a smile on your face and hook your arm exactly how he wishes.

You don’t reply because he doesn’t need you to speak. You are here to stay close to him as he mingles with patriars. You are here to look pretty while you discretely protect his life. You are here to smile and to nod and to be vigilant. Oh how you loathe these jobs.

However, when Duke Sanolin leads you inside and servants greet you both, offering wine and small snacks on silver platters, you scan the guests and see nobody you should keep an eye out on. There are some dangerous nobles among the masses of them in Baldur’s Gate. Some of them have relations with other Guilds, some are simply unhinged and unpredictable, some have grievances and revenge on their minds, but tonight you see no familiar faces, faces that you have memorized for safety. This makes your shoulders relax. Sure, someone undesirable might come yet, rich people are rarely punctual, but for now you feel more at ease than you expected yourself to be tonight.

And Duke is not some secretive heir like Lord Goldbrith or a boasting sex addict like Lord Witdale. No, Sanolin is a very educated man and a very social one to boot, so the moment you two enter the main ballroom, he quickly becomes surrounded by ladies and lords alike. Everyone wants to be on his good side and you too get acknowledged as someone who is accompanying him tonight, asking where his wife is. When Duke explains that his wife isn’t feeling well thus he decided to bring his ‘niece’ with him, most seem to stop questioning your presence, although you do notice a suspicious glance or two from those who don’t believe Duke’s innocent lie because they don’t know who you truly are, which is not that many of them, you suddenly realize. This party seems to have been assembled from people who rub elbows with the ruler of the city very closely, including yourself, and that makes your job easier – protecting someone of this importance is near effortless when he’s surrounded by his allies instead of enemies.

And then something dawns on you – could Astarion be here? You immediately begin to look around watching for signs of him, but so far you see nothing, yet it still doesn’t alleviate the panic beginning to claw at your chest and throat. You don’t like feeling paranoid but this is exactly the feeling that now overwhelms your mind, making your hands shake slightly as you hold the glass of wine and take small sips from it while keeping your eyes on the crowd as Duke Sanolin is talking to his political allies with you at his side.

You don’t fear Astarion, not really, you’re too proud for that, but what do you fear is a scene that he could cause if seeing you back instead of getting a message from you informing him about your return could lead him to anger. And you already know that Astarion’s anger can get pretty explosive with no regards to anyone around him unless forced to stop and think better.

For an hour or so you feel rising panic trying to replace all other senses in your mind and body, but thankfully Sanolin doesn’t notice anything, chatting away about things that dull your mind: trades, fashions and council meetings. Nothing useful for you to pay attention to. And when you finally feel like you can relax, that Astarion might not show up, you freeze, paralyzed with near animalistic fear when you notice him entering with a loud laugh, teasing the servant and making the young man blush.

Shit.

You turn your back to him and try to blend in with the nobles chatting up the Duke, trying to hide behind his own body and you empty your glass of wine in one gulp to calm your nerves. What is wrong with you? You faced enemies and threats bigger than Astarion’s possible anger for not receiving a simple note from you, but you immediately understand why – because you want to be with him and you feel like you betrayed whatever fragile start you two agreed upon those two weeks ago.

“Good evening, my dear.” you hear Astarion’s all too familiar voice croon behind you and your fingers clench the glass so firmly that you have to remind yourself to relax before it shatters in your hand.

You slowly turn to him, not bothering to plaster on a fake smile, and his crimson eyes immediately locks onto yours. Duke and his allies fall silent at the greeting and turn to Astarion as well, making minstrels that the host hired for tonight seem unreasonably loud even though that’s far from the truth.

“I was so hoping to see you tonight.” Astarion says and you hear traces of poison in his words, you notice the cold edge in his smile and hardness in his eyes.

“You know my niece?” Duke interrupts the stare-down and Astarion turns to the man, shaking his hand.

“Duke Sanolin, delighted to see you tonight. And yes, I do know your niece.” you near flinch at vampire’s emphasis on your fake title and you look at Duke, seeing that he and Astarion are exchanging some silent understanding, most likely about who you really are, the hired assassin.

“She’s a delight, isn’t she.” Duke smiles at you now and you feel his hand on your lower back as if trying to reassure you, it makes you feel like your heart is being squeezed and a flash of sorrow replaces your anxiety with the wish that your own father was ever this comforting. Alas, you quickly discard the self-pitying thought and smile back to him.

“I’m glad to be here tonight, surely.” you speak and sense Astarion’s gaze burn into you, but you pretend that you don’t feel it or see it.

“Duke Sanolin, would you mind if I stole your niece for a moment or two? There’s something I want to ask her about her… mother.” Astarion pauses as he tries to think of a lie on the spot but since Duke is perfectly aware of your line of work, after all that’s exactly why you’re here, he just gives Astarion a curious look and nods, his hand leaving your back.

“Just for a moment.” he says and Astarion laughs, waving his hand dismissively.

“You’re a powerful opponent in a fight, Duke, I’m sure you don’t need a small girl like her protecting you, do you?” Lord Ancunin says with a taunting grin and Sanolin narrows his eyes for a moment, but when his companions burst into lighthearted laughter, he relaxes and laughs along.

“Very true indeed. Go ahead then, steal my niece away, but I want her returned, sooner rather than later, she’s here to observe and to learn.” Duke lies with such conviction that you wonder if he’s becoming delusional, but you understand that maybe this is exactly why he’s a Duke – a good politician knows how to lie without a shadow of doubt in his own words.

Yet you don’t want to go with Astarion. Even when he pulls the empty glass out of your fingers you look at the Duke with questions in your eyes that you hope he can read.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t stay and… observe the conversations?” you ask as the men surrounding Duke now simmer down to chuckles and Duke pauses, then glances at Astarion, noticing his impatience. “I’m sure you won’t miss too much if you’re away for ten minutes or so.” he nods and your stomach clenches but you nod too and inhale deeply before you look at Astarion again, his gleeful expression looks more dangerous than actually happy to you, yet you don’t say another word.

“I will return her shortly.” Astarion ensures Duke Sanolin and when Duke nods to him as well, he briefly licks his lips. “Follow me.” the vampire gestures with a turn on his heel and begins leading you through the crowd.

With leaden feet and arms just as heavy you follow him, preparing yourself for the confrontation. The crimson daggers he was shooting at you the entire conversation, despite how brief it was, make you easily understand that Astarion is angry. Maybe not as angry as he was when he visited your home, but close enough to make you worry about what’s to happen.

The moment main crowd is behind you both, Astarion pauses and turns to you, then grabs your wrist and begins dragging you after him, ignoring servants and several scattered nobles loitering by the ballroom walls as you barely can keep up with him, your skirts burdening your steps.

“I can walk on my own!” you hiss behind him, not wanting to draw even more unneeded attention but you get ignored while Astarion navigates the hall, pulling you deeper into the bowels of the mansion until he arrives to the end of the corridor and pushes open the door.

You try to glance back, to see if anyone is watching, but don’t get the chance when Astarion pulls you into the room with enough force to make you stumble forwards, especially when he suddenly releases your wrist. When you spin around to face him, you watch him slam the door shut and turn the key in the lock, the snap of it sounding like a thunderstrike in the silent room.

Quickly you realize that you’re in party host’s private study as your eyes catch upon tall shelves, shields and paintings adorning the walls. The desk that you nearly ran into, that is now behind you, was empty when you briefly saw it and now you see two full armor knight suits by each side of the door.

At last Astarion turns to you. His expression is a deep frown and he tugs on the sleeves of his bejeweled white and silver attire, then smirks.

“So you’re back.” he starts and you open your mouth to reply but he swiftly raises his upturned palm to you, silencing your words before they leave you. “You’re back and you didn’t even bother telling me. For how long?” the vampire steps towards you and you move backwards away from him, not yet noticing that you’re doing that.

“Last night. I returned only last night and then this morning Duke’s note came.” you hear yourself rushing to explain but Astarion scoffs, his smirk wide and sharp and then it becomes even wider when you bump into the desk behind you, leaving you with no other place to retreat to.

“So instead of sending me a short, quick message that I know you are capable of, instead you prostrate yourself in front of all these rich politicians like a whore begging for attention. I thought I mattered to you more.” he taunts with fire and brimstone in his every word and you begin to feel sweat beading your forehead. Why are you so stressed about confronting him right now? You have no answer.

“I didn’t know I was married to you.” you bravely taunt back with a crooked grin, your palms grasping the edge of the desk and gripping it tight like it’s an anchor to a ship at sea because that’s exactly how you feel right now, lost in the storm that is about to crack the sky wide open.

Astarion pauses his steps at your words, his smirk faltering for a precious moment, then he tilts his chin upwards ever so slightly and takes couple last steps to end up right in front of you, just mere inches away, so close you can smell his perfume and see the dim light reflected in his irises from the few lit candles in the room.

“Would marriage be more preferable than becoming my spawn?” he asks and here it is, just as you suspected it will be – his desire to turn you into his thrall. You knew that he won’t give up the idea easily and you frown, finding your anger.

“Neither would be preferable. Look how you are acting! I do my work but you have the gall to insult me? Call me a whore?” you shoot back and straighten your back, your eyes harden as they look at him and Astarion’s own eyes narrow at your words.

“You told me you wanted me, to be with me.” his voice is dangerously low as he speaks but you don’t care, because what can he even do here, in the home of city’s general, with Duke not far either. Assured that Astarion wouldn’t risk exposing himself by hurting you - you feel emboldened.

“You came into my home and Dominated me, you bastard!” you raise your voice and Astarion’s hands twitch like he wants to do something, to strike you or maybe silence you. You don’t care either way.

“I didn’t force you to say what you said! You wanted it! You admitted it! Now you’re pretending like you haven’t said a word?!” Astarion’s own voice raises as you shout at each other now.

“I’m not pretending! But you’re insane if you think I will drop everything and just run to you the moment I’m back!”

“Why not?! Is carousing with these old cads that much preferable than coming to me?! You take their money so that they can roister with other fat slobs and you try to tell me that’s not what being a whore is?!” Astarion points his finger at you as he shouts, his features twisted in anger and you slap his hand away from your face.

“I’m not fucking them, you spoiled idiot!” you snap back and Astarion’s hand shoots up, his fingers wrap around your throat and start squeezing it.

“But what if you are?!” he hisses at your face while you try to pry his hand off your neck and it finally dawns on you – he’s jealous, isn’t he. He’s jealous because he saw you with the Duke.

“Let go.” you manage to croak with Astarion barely letting you take in any air while your nails scratch at his hand leaving marks, but it’s like he doesn’t even notice that, his crimson eyes blazing with fury and envy that you chose your work over doing something as small as letting him know you’re back.

“No. It’s time you learn once and for all – you are mine.” a wicked grin suddenly appears on his face and while you try not to panic at all the possibilities that can happen, you feel Astarion use his other hand to pull the dress off your shoulders in several harsh yanks, the seams straining and snapping.

“Astarion, what do you think you’re doing.” your voice is coarse, barely a whisper but he’s not even looking at you.

He’s holding you in place by your neck while he moves the dress down your arms, making you release his wrist when the fabric begins cutting into your skin, the garment then is moved lower, your breasts become exposed and you grit your teeth while Astarion moves the top of your dress to your waist, making sure that your wrists are still in the sleeves, binding them to your body this way.

“I know you want to be mine. You can’t deny it, I can hear your heart beating fast and not from fear, little assassin. I’ll show to you just how badly you want to belong to me” vampire responds with a degree of calmness in his voice and when his eyes finally raise to your face, he notices a traitorous blush on your cheeks. “You’re so beautiful when you are forced into submission.” he whispers and you part your lips to speak but stop when you feel the heat of his palm on your breast, fondling it, squeezing it, then his fingertips find your hardened nipple and pluck at it, making you gasp ever so softly with your neck still being squeezed. Your body responds to the rough teasing, desire begins to uncoil in your lower abdomen and for a moment you hate it.

“Stop it!” you manage a whisper and finally Astarion’s fingers on your neck relent, letting you inhale more air but also making you slightly dizzy in the process. You try to remove your hands from your dress sleeves, feeling like you’re being shackled but Astarion interrupts your attempt by harshly kissing you on the mouth.

Your lips were parted as you were gasping for air and he wastes no time to slip his tongue into your mouth. You try to lean back from him but all you achieve is Astarion biting down on your lower lip just for a moment and grabbing your hips, lifting them so that you drop on the desk on your back with a thud. You lift your head to look at him and notice his eyes scanning your exposed chest while he moves your body for you, pushing it more onto the desk.

“What do you think you’re doing! It’s host’s office!” you hiss with both anger and slightly panicked concern that someone might come looking for you, sooner rather than later, but it’s like Astarion doesn’t hear you.

Annoyed that he’s treating you like this you try to free your wrists again only for him to grab at the fabric in a way that it brings both of your hands together and he tsks at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment while he grins.

“Don’t struggle little assassin, you know you want this just as much as I do.” he says almost calmly if not for his eyes betraying his passion and desire.

“I have to go back, Duke-“

“Fuck the Duke.” Astarion suddenly snaps at you, clearly unhappy that you still try to resist him, try to argue with him, because obviously he doesn’t care about anything but this moment and you. “I will do whatever I please, to whoever I please, whenever I please.” his words are choppy and you feel your heart skip a beat at this. You realize that his arrogance and assurance that nobody can stop him is exactly what you find so alluring about him.

“Astarion-“

“No, no more words from you.” his brows are furrowed and with other hand he finds his way under your dress, finding your underwear and yanking it down with three swift, practiced pulls, wrangling it down your legs with ease. You watch him with surprise because he’s so different right now compared to two other times you fucked. There’s something else about him now, less charm and more confidence? No, that’s not right.

Dominance.

Dominance urged by his jealousy and his desire to make you finally submit.

And then his eyes flash red at you before you notice him holding your undergarment before he bunches it up in his fist and pauses just for a second. Astarion then quickly leans over you, his hand releasing your dress and now gripping your jaw, pushing his thumb and index finger into your cheeks until you are forced to open your mouth. Not that you resist much, caught completely off-guard by his sudden attack. You make a sound of protest and then your own underwear gets shoved into your mouth. You make another noise, startled and shocked but Astarion only clamps a palm over your lips with a grin.

“I think it’s for the best if you remain quiet for now.” he says with a bitter tone and you know he’s still angry, you can see it in his eyes, the possessiveness that he doesn’t even try to fight, because right now he just embraces it. You are his, that’s how he sees it, and he’s ought to teach you that once and for all.

Your eyes scan the room while you try to figure your way out of this predicament and while you’re not looking Astarion leans back from you, his palm leaving your mouth and for a brief second you try to push the fabric out of your mouth, but then clamp on it with your teeth when you feel two fingers plunge into your cunt. Your eyes immediately snap back to Astarion who’s watching his digits begin to pump in and out of you, enjoying how your body responds by clenching and releasing, getting wetter for him by the second. A smirk widens on his face as his gaze remains locked on your core swallowing his fingers with a wet sound.

“This is how I like you best, my little assassin. Submissive and eager for me.” Astarion croons, his jealous anger finally dissipating into nothing, replaced by pure desire. Palm of his other hand presses against the inside of your right thigh then pushes your legs wider apart and the tip of his tongue licks at his upper lip. “You will look absolutely wonderful as you stand by my side in the Crimson Palace.” he speaks more to himself than to you now, his fingers curling and stroking your inner walls, making you shiver and breathe faster as fire quickly spreads through your body, making you forget your fight at least for the time being. “You don’t know it yet, but you will love to be mine, I promise you that, darling.”

Astarion’s eyes do not leave your spread legs when he pulls his fingers out of you, together drawing a muffled moan out of your throat and then his head dips down and you moan around your gag louder when his hot tongue greedily presses against your drenched folds. He licks them, parts them with the tip of his tongue and then rubs against the nub of your clit while his fingers return and spread your entrance, this time making you squirm as your legs shake from tension and uncomfortable position. Astarion has a free hand and he puts it to use, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder while his tongue slithers down from your clit to your wide open cunt and he fills it with eager devotion. You mewl as you watch him with strained from pleasure expression, but soon your neck gets tired and you let your head drop back on the desk while vampire’s tongue explores you as deeply as it possibly can, making you pant out soft sighs at his ministrations.

“Ahh, delicious.” you hear Astarion exhale the moment his mouth leaves you and you exhale with relief when your body relaxes. “But that’s not all, little love.” he coos and your heavy-lidded eyes find his face. You watch him lick his lips, then quickly undo his pants, first the belt, then the buttons and then he pulls out his hard cock, the tip of it glistening with precum, and your throat involuntarily attempts to swallow, the gag in your mouth becoming drenched with your saliva. Astarion laughs. “I see the hungry look in your eyes, but don’t worry, I will give you exactly what you want.” a wicked grin and then he aims his length at you, teasing the tip against your wetness. “So ready for me with so little effort. You’re so easy.” he taunts with a chuckle and you blush heavily because something about how he says it makes your blood run faster and compels you to want to please him.

With a soft hum as he watches himself tease your cunt with his velvety tip Astarion finally pauses, nudging your entrance, pushing in just a little bit and then pulling back. His eyes flick to you to watch your reaction as he does it again and again, making your brain lose any thought except for all-consuming desire for him to stop it, to just fuck you, you’re not used to these types of games, but it looks like this is exactly why Astarion is doing this. He’s enjoying driving you crazy and it’s written all over your face how impatient you are already.

“I wish I could hear you beg, make you put that sweet mouth of yours to good use for once, but alas.” Astarion muses and just as you furrow your brows at his words he wipes everything from your mind by thrusting deeply and powerfully into you.

You cry out, your underwear in your mouth muffling nearly all of it and you watch Astarion smile widely, satisfied by your receptive reaction.

“Good girl, I prefer when you don’t struggle.” he teases and begins pumping.

His pushes are slow in the beginning and Astarion grabs your wrists now, holding them together at your waist as he increases his pace, plunging into you faster and harder. You mewl at his every shove into your core and watch his perfect curls lose their assembly with each passing moment, you see the sweat appear on Astarion’s forehead and his eyes are focused on your breasts that are swinging invitingly as he fucks you on top of this desk and yet he smirks, satisfied with himself.

“You’re perfect. Every time I have you like this I realize it more and more. You’re perfect…” his own voice starts becoming strained, his thrusts hard and heavy, and you wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper into you, making him glance up at your eyes. “Just perfect…” he affirms and bites his lower lip while his face flushes with his physical exertion and his eyes move from yours to your lips, then to your neck.

No, you can’t stop yourself, this feels too good and you bite on your gag as you watch yourself being fucked by a man who you tried to resist for so long. For so long you were trying to escape the truth, deeper truth than that you have feelings for him. Truth, that the thought of being his spawn is not as unappealing as you kept trying to convince yourself. And as his cock strokes you deep inside, making you feel more than pleasure, more than a temporary satisfaction, making you feel like you are wanted and needed, you let go and close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy this fully. But that’s what you were looking for all your life – someone to take charge and just allow you to enjoy yourself. Maybe that’s what you want for eternity too.

You suddenly gasp, brought back to the present as you feel Astarion’s fangs pierce your breast. When you open your eyes you now see that his mouth is wrapped tightly around your left nipple, his tongue moving against it, sucking hard, soothing the pain from his fangs now embedded into your supple flesh. Your eyes meet his when he lifts his red gaze to you and you see nothing but desire in them even through the curl now hanging over his face.

With a wet sound Astarion release your breast and you notice two puncture wounds, slowly beginning to seep blood while he straightens his back, his face covered in sweat and his lips painted in crimson, then his hands move and force your legs open, making you release the grip of your thighs on his hips with ease.

“You’re mine and you will be forever be mine.” Astarion says it with such conviction that you don’t think, you just nod to him as your dry throat tries to make your moans louder. “Yes? Nod again.” he commands and you nod eagerly again while he handles your legs by grabbing underside of your thighs and pushing them up, then down, nearly bending you in half as his cock manages to slide even deeper into you than before. “Good girl.” Astarion’s voice becomes audibly strained but he grins from under his eyebrows and begins thrusting again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your fingers clench at your dress harder and harder but you don’t notice that at all, instead you arch your neck and let out cry after cry with every mind-numbing pump only to be silenced by your gag. Astarion is panting too, his groans and moans louder and louder each time his body rocks against yours. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room alongside your voices and your back arches, you’re so close now, so close to the promised release.

“Fuck, you feel so good, I don’t think I will ever get tired of fucking you.” Astarion’s heat of passion has taken over him and he pounds into you with reckless abandon now, chasing his own climax without caring to tease you or prolong it any longer.

And then a knock on the door. Astarion doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch but you open your eyes, trying to gather your scattered thoughts to understand what’s going on.

“I can hear you in there! Come out at once!” Duke Sanolin’s voice barely registers in your clouded mind and more bangs on the door do not delay the orgasm that is approaching you like a tidal wave. “Do you hear me?!” an angry voice, but you don’t care. Rest of the bangs and words fade from your reality when you close your eyes again.

“Get the FUCK away from the door!” you suddenly hear Astarion snap angrily and the banging on the door stops.

You whine with pleasure, ignoring all of this and feel Astarion bend over you, squishing you underneath him as his tongue leaves a hot trail on your skin between your breasts. And then his voice reaches your mind, a strained whisper.

“Come for me, my love.” he nips at your right breast, his thrusts not relenting and it’s like this is all you needed to hear. You let go.

With a scream of pleasure behind your gag you come, your body straining, your cunt clenching around Astarion’s cock and with a loud groan he climaxes, spilling inside of you and filling you while his erratic thrusts try to prolong the bliss even for a second more. You don’t even feel how Astarion’s fingers dig deep into your thighs as he loses control and everything disappears except your satisfaction until it finally retreats and your body relaxes.

You lay there, gasping for air and finally remember that you can just spit out your gag. Yet before you do, you feel it being pulled from between your teeth and when you open your eyes, you see Astarion gently removing your underwear from your mouth. He smiles to you and then places a kiss on your dry lips, wetting them with his tongue.

“You did so well, my love, so well.” he praises as he gently lets you lower your legs and you try to gather your scattered mind, trying to catch your breath.

“Someone was here. Duke… It was the Duke.” you murmur and Astarion only chuckles.

“Yes he was and now he isn’t. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you and me. Be mine, little assassin. Be mine forever. You can’t tell me that eternity of us doesn’t sound good.” Astarion’s lips that were whispering against yours now move down to your neck and you tense for a moment, only for him to chuckle and look back at you. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn you here.”

“But you are going to turn me.” you begin to find your voice despite your throat feeling raw and Astarion gently rubs a pad of his thumb against your lower lip.

“You want it. I know you do. You want me to take care of you.” he whispers and something breaks in you, snaps in a way you never expected. What’s the point in lying and pretending.

What’s the point in struggling only to die.

The promise of immortality. A promise of eternity with him. Do you feel this strongly about Astarion? But as you look at his tired, sweaty face, as you see his smile that looks genuine and as you see desperate yearning in his eyes you realize that yes, you do.

“I want it.” you respond in barely a whisper and Astarion’s eyes widen for a moment, then he smiles.

“Wonderful.” he says but then pulls back from you, sliding himself out of you and letting his cum seep out of your sore cunt before he helps you sit up and free your hands from binds of your own dress.

You glance up at him as you rub your wrists but you’re allowed that only for a moment before Astarion draws you off the desk and into his arms, holding you firmly. His kiss is sudden and scorching while you still try to recover from everything but his happiness is obvious. Then he leans back before you are even able to kiss him back, his palms quickly move to cradle your face as he looks at you with relief on his face.

“Come to the palace. Tomorrow. I will have everything ready so that your step into immortality is perfect. I promise you this, my little assassin, I will make sure that you don’t regret this.” Astarion whispers and your heart beats faster in your chest. You heard promises like this before, many times, but somehow when it’s Astarion who’s saying them - you believe him.

“Tomorrow?” you ask, still dazed and trying to process everything.

“Leave the details to me. Just come to me when sun goes down. And… don’t change your mind.” he frowns slightly, as if worried you might not appear but you sigh and grasp his waist, pulling your body against his. There’s no fight left in you anymore, just acceptance. So you smile and give him a brief kiss.

“I’ll be there tomorrow evening, as you wish.” you promise and Astarion’s gaze slips down your face, then to your neck ever so briefly before his eyes are on yours again.

“I’ll be waiting.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #lord astarion #ascended astarion #astarion x reader #x reader #female reader #reader insert #astarion x female reader #astarion fic #astarion smut #my fics

[i-never-forgot]

Thinking about Eliana getting a case of the zoomies quite some time after the events of TPR after they settled. (Possible minor spoilers ahead, proceed with caution. I am actively trying to avoid giving anything too obvious away tho.)

Thinking about how she’s diurnal double-time since she’s a daytime mammal but also part plant to a degree, so she gets confused as to why she keeps waking up in the middle of the night (not from nightmares as frequently, much to her and the others’ immense relief). She’s sleeping well for the first time in years, she wakes up in the morning feeling fully rested, and she’s no longer fatigued. So why does she rouse when the moon’s at its peak, wide awake, thrumming with energy she just CANT seem to suppress?

She ignores it at first. She tosses and turns and huffs under her breath as she tries her hardest to wrestle herself back to sleep. A lot of times she ends up completely unmaking her bed because of this. The others are puzzled as to why she seems to crabby and how it even happened.

Eventually she gives up. To avoid disturbing the others, she patters up the stairs to walk around the top of the bluff in an effort to tire herself back out. It helps, but it's not enough. One night she caves and just breaks out into a full sprint through the forest on top of the steppe. It works.

She gets into an almost nightly habit of doing this to banish the excess energy. She figures out a trail through the wounds around treasure town and back. She even goes through town once or twice when she’s sure all the shop keepers are asleep. It improves her sleep and mood immensely and the others relax a bit.

Dusknoir gets curious, of course.

So he waits up until she leaves, and he follows. He has to follow the noises into the woods until he’s able to observe her darting through the underbrush to her heart’s content, gleefully yipping as she darts to and fro (entirely subconsciously, he is certain, as she’s so particular about her dignity and pride around others). The dapples of moonlight peeking through the leafy boughs above their heads illuminate her pale fur, helping him keep track of her whereabouts as he keeps a watchful eye, just in case. He understands, now, what she had needed—and he’s exceedingly glad that she found an outlet.

He continues this for a while, and she doesn’t even realize it at first. He spent years perfecting his stealth, after all, and he’s glad to use it for something good for once (bc one never knows when Eliana Kouros might fall into trouble’s way, after all). He almost…enjoys it. Like it’s a game of its own, to keep to the shadows and stay hidden and out of sight. He gets an odd surge of excitement when she darts right past him without her even glancing his way.

It doesn’t last forever, though. On a full moon night he accidental drifts into moonbeams and his rings start to glow involuntarily—it’s been a while since he last moon-bathed, after all, and he should have anticipated that. Elaina’s startled, of course, lets out a sharp sound of shock bc she was near him and felt foolish for being so oblivious, as well as mortified that he’d caught her doing such a “silly” thing (as well as the fact that even though they’ve both healed, bad memories still have a mighty grip on one’s subconscious and instincts). She gets prickly and a little huffy, at first—tries to brush it off and act a bit haughty to deflect his evident amusement—but he doesn’t tease her about it.

He tentatively asks her if she’d like for him to join her.

She blinks and stares at him for a long time in perfect silence. A part of her resists the idea—old wounds still lingered, after all, and why would she ever volunteer to have Dusknoir of all Pokemon chase her? Hasn’t she had enough of that for one lifetime?

He starts to retract his offer, bashful and ashamed himself by prodding that old scar in a way he hadn’t even considered before speaking, but she interrupts him. “I haven’t played tag in a long time,” she murmurs wistfully.

So they learn to play cat and mouse. And they love it.

Eliana is startlingly quick on her feet now that she’s adapted to her body. She has the advantage of ducking under low bushes and hiding in narrow places like under logs or in tree hollows. But her giggles give her away—unmitigated delight and anticipation overpowers her will, and it alerts him to her general direction any time he gets close.

Dusknoir has the advantage of greater reach—and, to a certain extent, speed, because this ghost will absolutely use Shadow Sneak to cheat if he’s losing—simply because it infuriates Eliana and he finds no small amount of amusement in riling her up. Having her rant at him also helps him avoid her longer.

Their raucous, elated laughter wakes Grovyle and Celebi one night. They’re bemused and a touch perplexed by the whole affair, but they decide not to speak on it to preserve their austere companions’ egos.

(I imagine, if they ever brought it up, though, Grovyle and Celebi would love to join in. Pray help them if they decide to do it on a sunny day, because Eliana’s ability almost helps her outpace the old ghost. It’s the only time the others ever get truly worn out.)

#figured some levity would be appreciated after I’ve been talking about all the sad stuff with these two #(I still need a ship name for a tag please god help) #fisara’s scrawlings #pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #explorers of sky #dusknoir #leafeon/eliana #headcanons #ao3: in the morning light #grovyle #celebi