#swing trader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ddejavvu · 6 days ago

Text

Excuse Me, Barmaid - Hiccup Haddock x Reader (Part 2) | SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Berk is a small island with a small populace. Everybody knows everybody, and everybody especially knows the son of the Chief. When you’re thrown into the mix, arriving alone on a ship from an island they’ve never heard of before, you’re the talk of the village. It, of course, doesn’t help that you’re now roommates with the aforementioned son of the Chief. Stoick’s hospitality is welcome, but how will you survive living amongst the Chief of Berk and his inquisitive son, all while keeping your secrets close to your chest?

Contents/Warnings: afab!fem!reader, mentions of sex, runaway!reader, non-canon timeline (no valka yet/stoick is alive but hiccup has dragonscale armor + trader johann hasn't... y'know...), more to be added as chapters are posted

WC: 7.6K / navigation / inbox / ddejavvu's summer of series

A/N: thank you for the love on part one! i'm massively inspired to write this series right now so I really appreciate that you guys are loving it and eager for more. I hope you like this part as much as the first! More is definitely on its way <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Hiccup’s journal is a tattered, impressive thing. It contains pages upon pages of sketches, blueprints for Toothless’s prosthetic tail fin- the story of which you’ve been filled in on, as well as Hiccup's metal counterpart - and doodles here and there of his green-eyed best friend. They bear a striking resemblance to the dragon currently stretched out on the forest floor to place his head in your lap, and his warm breath puffs over your stomach, seeping through your threadbare tunic and heating your skin.

You may be in shock.

You’d have assumed it would be harder to assimilate to an island full of dragons, not even ones that breathe fire and snap their great heavy jaws at you, but ones that blink up at you, pupils wide and teeth sucked into their gums.

But he’s done such a good job of acting like a cat that you almost forget he isn’t one, and his wings take you by surprise when he curls one over his exposed belly, protecting it from the ticklish grass of the cove.

“He really likes you.” Hiccup smiles, “I suppose that’s another reason I’m trying to help you. I trust his judgement.”

“He’s- sweet.” You marvel, “He’s twenty-five feet long, he’s got to weigh a thousand pounds, and he’s… sweet.”

“Legends about dragons are wrong.” Hiccup states, slipping his hand beneath Toothless’s wing to rub over his belly, round with fish, “You won’t need to fight them unless you try to. They’re gentle creatures.”

Toothless demonstrates this by getting so delighted that his belly is being rubbed that he whaps Hiccup upside the head with his red tail fin.

“Ow! Okay, except for that.” Hiccup yelps, scrubbing a hand over the back of his head, “You’ve really gotta stop swinging that thing around, bud. You’re gonna knock me out one day.”

Toothless raises his head from your lap to chatter back at Hiccup, and though neither of you understand what he’s saying, you certainly understand how he’s saying it.

“He has tone,” You laugh, “He’s- he’s arguing with you!”

“Yes, he is,” Hiccup drawls, “He does it all the time.”

“Incredible.” You note, and Toothless purrs contentedly, pressing his face back into your belly.

You gently rake your nails over the smooth scales on Toothless’s chin as Hiccup turns back a page of his journal, “Okay, so, we’re both familiar with the plan?”

“Stay out of the way, wait until the mead hall is empty, scrub like my life depends on it, and then in the morning your friends divebomb my boat?”

“You forgot be polite.” Hiccup reminds you, “I know my dad can be… brash, but that’s because he feels like you’re being brash. You might have to do some ass-kissing.”

You wish you could act indignant about it. But you are being stubborn, you are hiding the truth, and you’re going to for as long as you can get away with. So you nod, losing yourself in the pattern of Toothless’s scales, “Right. Ass-kissing.”

“It’s starting to get dark.” Hiccup notes, looking at the pinkening sky, “Berk doesn’t get much sun. We should head back before its hard to see.”

“Right. We’re flying.” You remember, as Toothless gets to his feet and shakes himself off, “I’m still getting used to that. Do you fly everywhere?”

“Almost everywhere,” Hiccup nods, reaching for his helmet on instinct and realizing that he’d left it in the great hall earlier, “I’ll walk around the village- to the forge, or to the great hall or whatever, but anywhere more than that and Toothless likes to stretch his wings.”

The large dragon crows in agreement, wings already spread to their full span. It makes him more intimidating, but you take Hiccup’s helping hand and mount him without much hesitation.

Taking off is easier this time, because now you know he’ll be gentle. It’s not really anything you’ve ever thought to prepare for- handling dragons, so you’re adapting as best you can amidst all of the other crises you’re going through. Toothless is a good test subject, and you’re sure Hiccup knows that.

Landing reveals that apparently it’s feeding time for the dragons, and Toothless nudges his snout into Hiccup’s back, crooning hopefully as the other dragons swarm the feeding troughs.

“Go ahead, bud. We’ll be okay.” Hiccup ruffles his hand over Toothless’s nose, nudging him towards the fish being snapped up by the mouthful. The dragon bounds away excitedly, and sticks his nose in beside a dusty blue colored dragon with a yellow spiked tail. They gorge on food, stuffing their mouths and shoveling mounds of fish into their hungry bellies.

“Hiccup!” A woman’s voice calls, and you turn to see a blonde viking rushing over. She’s got furs on her shoulders and around her ankles, and her hair is intricately braided over her shoulder, “Hiccup, I heard what happened.”

“I’m sure you heard something happened,” Hiccup grimaces, turning towards her, “But I’m willing to bet everyone blew it a little out of proportion.”

“You’re our overnight guest?” She guesses, her eyes narrowed like Stoick’s, and you wonder if she’s heard from him, or his friend, “The one that won’t answer any questions?”

“I’m Y/N- That’s me.” You nod politely, “I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m only restocking my rations.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what they’ve all said.” She warns, “Everyone’s curious, y’know. It’d probably be easier just to tell us the truth, instead of whatever everyone else will come up with.”

“I’ll take my chances.” You let your weight rest on one leg, your hip jutted out defiantly, “But thanks for looking out for me…?”

“Astrid.” Her mouth forms a tight line, then she nods to the dragon beside Toothless, “That’s Stormfly, my nadder. Stoick wants us to keep an eye on you, too.”

“Toothless and I can handle it,” Hiccup reaches for her placatingly, but she rounds on him.

“He meant for us to keep an eye on you. The three of you, you, Toothless, and Y/N.”

“I don’t need babysitting.” Hiccup grumbles, sounding like someone who does, very much, need babysitting.

“Well, you’re just lucky Stormfly can’t leave her clutch for more than a meal this soon after hatching,” Astrid sighs, “I told Stoick I couldn’t do it. But I swear,” She leans towards you, poking an accusatory finger at your chest, “If I hear even a whisper that something’s going on with you, she’ll shoot every single one of those spikes into your gut, you got it?”

Astrid points at the nadder’s tail, and your arms cover your vulnerable torso instinctually.

“Alright,” Hiccup laughs nervously, pulling Astrid’s shoulder back so that he puts space between you two, “She already thinks we’re a little hostile to outsiders, let’s not make it worse. Toothless and I can handle it! He’s a night fury! And I’m Hiccup! And she won’t do anything, anyways. She promised.”

Astrid looks at Hiccup like wearing a helmet to protect his brain is a waste of time.

“Oh, she promised! Like Heather promised to-”

“Heather is different!” Hiccup insists, and the two devolve into squabbling that their dragons have to separate. You stand uselessly while the two bicker over each other, and Toothless nudges the dragon beside him with irritation clear in his narrowed eyes. Apparently, dinnertime is over.

They move as one, creeping up behind their riders and plucking them apart like mother cats scruffing kittens. Toothless drags Hiccup five meters backwards, and Stormfly ends up parking Astrid beside you, noticing you for the first time. She drops her rider into the grass in favor of examining you with one of her massive, yellow eyes, and you take a half-step backwards in fright before Hiccup can shout that you’re okay.

“She’s friendly!” He assures you, and to his credit, the dragon does nothing but stare, tilting her massive head towards you while keeping it sideways, “She can’t see in front of her, she’s just checking you out from the side.”

“You’re afraid of dragons.” Astrid notes, almost haughtily from where she’s picked herself up and dusted herself off, “Are you a trapper?”

“She’s not a trapper,” Hiccup scoffs, reaching out to scrub a hand over Stormfly’s nose and hopefully deter her from moving any further into your personal space, “She’s never even seen a dragon before.”

Astrid’s brow creases only further at that, “Never? What island did you come from, anyways?”

“Remember, I don’t answer questions?” You raise a brow at her, but then you remember the part of Hiccup’s plan where you’re supposed to kiss ass, “I- It’s just private, okay? It’s all very dramatic and I wouldn’t want to bore anyone with the details.”

Astrid’s studying you much like Stormfly had, but her arms are crossed in front of her chest, unimpressed.

“Well vikings are fond of storytelling,” She muses, and Stormfly has grown bored of Hiccup itching at her scaly snout, now huffing and puffing at your arm, “Maybe you could regale us with the tale around the dinner table tonight.”

“Astrid.” Hiccup snaps, his voice taut, “Lay off.”

Stormfly snorts, and you choose to ignore the dragon snot now adorning your tunic, because you have bigger things to worry about. The dragon knocks her great head into your side so roughly that you tip over, and you yelp as you hit the grassy ground, the dragon following your descent.

Stormfly barely misses clipping your chin with her horn with the way she huffs into your stomach, dragging her snout up and over you as her two giant legs move on either side of you. All at once there’s a very large dragon on top of you, and she tucks your flailing limbs into the space between her legs and tail with her chin, closing you in.

Your thigh is by your cheek, and your other leg is bent awkwardly away from it, your tendons burning as they strain to stretch and not snap. Your head is cushioned by a scaly dragon foot, and you barely have time to get your bearings before light spills into your eyes again, and Astrid is shoving Stormfly’s giant head out from between her feet.

“Sorry!” Hiccup calls, his voice muffled until one of your ears becomes uncovered, “She has a habit of collecting people she likes. You can take it as a compliment,” Hiccup offers a hand to haul you out from beneath the dragon that Astrid is persistently shoving backwards over the grass so that you can untangle your limbs, “But I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

“She frequently sits on people?” You ask, brushing loose grass from your clothes and stumbling warily away from the two-legged dragon currently squawking at her rider.

“That’s how Nadders protect their young,” Astrid glares sideways at you, like it’s your fault that her dragon had decided you were baby-shaped and tried blocking off your airways, “She’s just very friendly, that’s all.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” Hiccup reasons, “It’s a good sign that the dragons are liking you so far. That means we’ll have less problems to deal with in getting you to stay.”

“Stay?” Astrid raises a brow, her arms crossed in front of her chest, “The Chief said she could be here for one night.”

“I know that,” Hiccup hedges, grimacing at his slip-up, “I just mean- well, y’know, if she does a really good job at scrubbing the mead hall, maybe we’ll want to keep her around.”

“She’s leaving tomorrow.” Astrid glares first at Hiccup, then at you, “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” You lie, standing tall with your hands clasped primly behind your back, “No trouble.”

“We’re watching you,” She vows, and Stormfly emphasizes her rider’s point by staring at you sideways again out of one great big eye, “I swear, any suspicion and I’ll fling you out into the sea myself. Stormfly is very good at ditching people in the ocean.”

Despite her threats being empty, just for show, your stomach twists and you edge a step away from the dragon, to Astrid’s satisfaction.

“Yes, and Barf and Belch are good at blowing houses up,” Hiccup drawls, “And Hookfang is good at threatening to swallow Snotlout, and so on and so forth. They’re all capable of dangerous things, but they’re also capable,” He smiles at you, his eyes bright as Toothless burrows beneath his arm and against his side, "-of loyalty. Absolutely unfailing loyalty, at that. If you're kind to us, trust that you’ll be safe here.” He casts a backwards glance at Astrid, “Even if you’re only planning on staying one night.”

Toothless croaks happily at you, and when he carefully steps forwards, considerate enough to take slow steps in case he spooks you, you let him butt his head up beneath your palm for a scratch against his jaw.

“See? You’re a natural.” Hiccup grins, and you’re fairly certain that’s because your cousin had a dog while you were growing up, and they seem to be similar creatures, but you’re not going to talk back any more than you already have. Hiccup seems to be the only one on Berk that’s on your side, so you heave a silent, heavy sigh instead of opening your mouth again.

“It’s dinner time,” Astrid notes, watching the sun sink lower into the sky, as well as the swarm of Berkians headed for the doors to the great hall, “Will you be joining us, or are you late for another disappearing act?”

“Oh, don’t mind her.” Hiccup decides your conversation is over, pushing you firmly but not roughly towards the great hall while the dragons tail you, “In her defense, like I said, we have had newcomers sneak off to conspire against us. But stay where everyone can see you, and try not to be so, well, y’know, stubborn and mysterious at dinner, and you’ll be fine.”

Shoulders hunched, hair a mess from its rendezvous with the grass, two dragons and a pissed-off rider trailing at your heels, you’re not sure you could look more mysterious and stubborn. But you’ll try to do what Hiccup thinks is best, because right now he's all you've got.

The meade hall is bustling like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Berk is a refreshingly tight-knit community, with people lining up at tables against the far end of the hall to set up dishes they’d brought in communal pots. It seems as though it’s one big assembly line, food brought from here, there, and everywhere for everyone on the island to share. For the most part, people serve their own dishes, and you feel out of place lining up to be served instead of bringing your own portion.

“I told you we mostly barter.” Hiccup hands you a bowl, still wet from having been washed previously, “Berk’s gold is more for alliances than anything. A lot of people make food to share because everyone needs to eat.”

“It’s nice here.” You hum, stew poured into your bowl despite the curious glances from the people dishing out their food, “My home- well, people weren’t cruel, but we had to pay. And some people couldn’t.”

Bread and cheese are handed to you, and you let someone siphon a generous helping of shredded meat into your bowl. It looks delicious, but a smell wafting from the end of the makeshift assembly line has your eyes slamming shut as nausea roils suddenly in your gut.

“Oh no,” Hiccup mutters from behind you, nearly bumping into you where you’ve stopped dead at the smell, “Okay, uh, Astrid’s very... generous! And she likes to contribute to dinner, but some of her recipes aren’t always village favorites. Just- whatever it is, take some and thank her. Please? It’ll help your case.”

The stench is truly horrifying. You weren’t quite aware that anything besides a decaying corpse could produce such an odor, but whatever thick, chunky substance Astrid is pouring into mugs for everyone seems to be more than cadaverous.

“Oh, yaknog!” Hiccup laughs, his voice dead and his eyes despairing, “It’s not Snoggletog, Astrid.”

“I know it’s not,” She rolls her eyes, grinning all the while. She passes you your mug gruffer than she does anyone else’s, but you take it without spilling a drop, even if it makes your stomach churn and your delicious stew less appealing, “But everyone always drains their glasses, so I thought I’d make it as a summer treat.”

“Thank you,” You hum blankly, staring at the noxious substance actively curdling in your mug, and as soon as Hiccup takes his stein, he rushes off to a far corner of the hall to claim an empty bench.

“We can dump that.” Hiccup promises, setting his own cup halfway across the table like it might contaminate his other food, “She’s- we really do appreciate the thought she puts into making food, but…”

“Yaknog.” You nod, still pulling in breath after nauseating breath of the odor, “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Here,” Hiccup glances at Astrid, finding her completely obstructed behind his father’s stocky form, “Quick, while she’s not looking.”

He takes both tankards, dumping them out into what looks like someone’s dirty pot. It blends in with whatever unusable scraps they’d left behind, and he slides it several feet away with the toe of his boot.

“Everyone does drain their glasses," He admits, grimacing, "We chuck it as soon as we get the chance. Just... tell her you liked it. She might stop threatening to kill you.”

“She’s very… spirited.” You continue your directive of ass-kissing, “Is she a part of your father’s council?”

“No, but she should be.” Hiccup digs into his stew, but your stomachache lingers, and you decide to give it a few more minutes before braving your meal, “She’s really smart. And she’s really strong. And she’s really good at scaring people off. Berk could probably use someone like her as Chief.”

“Are you next in line?” You ask, and you swear you see his face pale in the candlelight.

“Technically. It’s just- not really my thing.” He admits, “It’s complicated. But I think Astrid would do a better job than me.”

“I don’t know. You seem pretty smart,” You remember his journal, packed with pages and pages of blueprints and deductions, “And you’d have to be strong to fight off a dragon the size of a mountain. You two nearly scared me off,” You remind them, “But maybe she’s more like your dad.”

Hiccup nods, chewing through a bite of stew.

“That’s not a bad thing.” You add, conscious of the way his eyes have dimmed slightly, “Not being like your dad. I’m sure you are, in some ways. But that’s not the end-all be-all.”

He swallows and clears his throat, and you remember you’re not supposed to be there. You remember you’ve only set foot on Berk hours ago, and fall back into silence, still afraid to touch your meal.

“You know a lot about me,” Hiccup's eyes remain on his food as he tears into his bread, “Or, at least you think you do. And I still don’t know anything about you.”

“You don’t need to. And I’ll leave you alone.” You glance at your own bread, finding its bland flavor appealing to line your stomach with. You leave the cheese aside, but take a tentative bite of the bread, “I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

“If you’re gonna be staying here for more than a night, you’d be better off giving up,” He advises you, “I wasn’t kidding when I said we have stubbornness issues. You’re gonna be asked so many times that you’ll go crazy.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t stay for longer than a night, then.” You consider, “Maybe I’ve already botched my chances here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hiccup frowns, shifting in his seat, “You’re welcome to stay. I believe you. I… I trust you. It’s just- you have to trust us too.”

“Not- not yet.” You plead, fingers pinching the soft bread until it’s flattened, “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

You’re grateful when he shovels another spoon of stew into his mouth.

The bench shakes as someone sits down beside you, and your breath catches in your throat. You hadn’t seen them coming- perhaps you’d been too embroiled in your own thoughts. It feels like there’s a target on your back- and maybe there is, but they don’t know the half of it.

“Something wrong with your stew?” A loud, brash voice comes from the man beside you, and Hiccup grumbles something surely offensive into his spoonful of dinner, “I can go get you another bowl if you want. Or- two bowls. Like, any amount. I can get you whatever you want.”

It’s a dark-haired man, a helmet on his head with horns that spiral and wind. They look intimidating, but his wide, dark eyes don’t, even if he’s trying very hard to make them by accompanying them with a dry smirk.

“This is Snotlout.” Hiccup nearly bites through his name, “And you can ignore pretty much anything he says, all the time.”

“You told me to ignore Astrid, too,” You glance at Hiccup from across the table, “Do you have any friends?”

You don’t mean for it to come out rude, more concerned, but Snotlout barks a laugh, “Not without us, he wouldn’t! He’s just jealous, ‘cause I’m better than him, and Astrid doesn’t like him anymore.”

“I am not jealous,” Hiccup argues, “Your name is Snot. Lout. You have the word snot in your name. I’m just trying to give Y/N a peaceful introduction to Berk, and neither of you are ever peaceful- like Fishlegs is! Fishlegs, sit.” Hiccup offers the blonde man a seat beside him, and you kiss your empty table goodbye once and for all. The man who sits across from Snotlout offers you a wary smile, hesitant but not unkind.

“Fishlegs is peaceful. Just endure Snotlout for one meal,” Hiccup offers, “And I’ll have Toothless burn through the seat of his pants when we leave.”

“Toothless would never do that to me,” Snotlout brags, but you watch the way one of his large hands curls into a fist on the tabletop.

“That’s true,” Hiccup muses, glancing sideways at Fishlegs who grins back, “Because Hookfang would have already done it for him.”

“You’re all jealous.” Snotlout declares, eyes narrowing from beneath his bushy brows and wild hair, “Because the bond that I have with Hooky is far greater than any dragon-rider bond you’ve ever seen before!”

Hiccup and Fishlegs share a glance that tells you Snotlout is speaking out of his ass.

“Do you have a dragon, Fishlegs?” You speak, diffusing the tension by keeping your voice that same timbre of politely interested that it’s been when speaking to anyone but Hiccup thus far.

“Yeah, she’s a gronckle.” Fishlegs nods, scooping meat onto his spoon. Your brows raise, and Hiccup swallows so that he can fill you in.

“Y/N’s never seen a dragon before.” Hiccup reveals, and both men share a startled glance that they don’t keep secret well enough, “A gronckle is- uh, a big boulder-class dragon. She’s super friendly, you should meet her next.”

“Hiccup, you shouldn’t call her big.” Fishlegs frowns, “She’s sensitive.”

“Fishlegs, she eats rocks! She’s- she’s a little tubby.” Hiccup groans, “All gronckles are.”

“I’m sure she’s gorgeous,” You conclude, and both men smile gratefully at you for the effort.

You hope you’re doing enough ass-kissing.

“Yeah, well, Hookfang’s a little more impressive than a gronckle.” Snotlout brags, and you marvel at how you can really hear the narcissism in his tone of voice, “He’s a monstrous nightmare. Probably the most dangerous dragon out there. I tamed him though.”

“Neither of those things are true,” Hiccup glares at Snotlout, “Don’t worry about Hookfang, Y/N. The dragons have seemed to like you so far, and the only one who Hookfang ever has problems with is Snotlout, anyways. Plus, he’s nowhere near the most dangerous dragon out there.”

“There’s worse?” You ask, stomach now twisting for a different reason. You can’t possibly fathom a creature worse than one named a ‘monstrous nightmare’. Maybe you should leave Berk come morning.

“None that you’ll encounter.” Hiccup assures you, “And none that would hurt you even if they could.”

You’ll take his word for it, because you need to stop worrying or you’ll never eat.

You’re starved from nothing but rations on your boat, dried meats that hadn’t filled you the way you’d wanted them to, and bread you’d had to gorge on before it got moldy. You welcome the warm, steaming stew, and try to clear the smell of yaknog from your senses while eating.

It’s delicious stew, and you let the cheese get gooey on the bread before dragging it through the dregs in your bowl. Your almost non-stop nausea since departing from being rocked constantly by the waves had put you off of food, but you hadn’t realized just how much of a difference a hot meal could make until now. You wolf down the rest of your dinner, and Snotlout eyes you like he thinks you might tear into him next.

“Did you want another bowl?”

“No, thank you.” You straighten in your seat, your belly stiff, bloated and uncomfortable now that you’ve stuffed it for the first time in a week, “I shouldn’t overdo it.”

“You can have more later, if you want.” Hiccup smiles at you, stretching out in his own spot, “I’ll have them keep just the one fire going.”

“If the twins left any,” Fishlegs groans, “Here they come.”

All heads turn towards the pair of blondes headed your way, mid-squabble about who gets what spoon. They look identical to you- the spoons, not the twins - but you suppose siblings have to bicker about pointless things else they wouldn’t be close.

“-my spoon! I always take this one!”

“No you don’t,” The man practically roars at his sister, “This one doesn’t have a chip in the handle and yours is chipped from when I bit it.”

“I had to get a new spoon after you bit mine! It was giving me splinters. The new one's not chipped."

“Ruff, Tuff,” Hiccup tries, arms outstretched placatingly, but he nearly gets whacked on the head with a non-chipped spoon handle for his efforts, so he chooses instead to duck and cover.

“Fine. Then I want the one with the knot in the handle.” The man throws his spoon at his sister, smacking her square in the nose, “That one.”

He points to the spoon in your bowl, and seems to realize that he doesn’t recognize it’s user.

“Woah. Fresh face,” He notes, and his sister blinks owlishly at you from where she’s rubbing her stinging nose, “I’m Ruffnut.”

“No, I’m Ruffnut,” The woman scoffs, “He’s Tuffnut. The lesser twin.”

“Lesser? I’ll have you know, sister, that I’ve pranked more people than you have. That’s clearly not lesser.”

“You have not.” Ruffnut snarls, “You’re lesser because you have less of a brain.”

“Here’s the spoon.” You briefly rinse it with water from a jug on the table, wiping it dry with the hem of your tunic, “Please don’t start a food fight. I have to clean this hall later.”

“We heard you got a nasty punishment,” Tuffnut grins mischievously, “I think the last time this hall was cleaned, it was by fourteen-year-old Hiccup after he blew up the forge. There’s probably, like, spiders everywhere.”

You shoot Hiccup a concerned glance, but whether it’s more about his explosive tendencies or the Berk’s arachnid presence, you’re not sure. Either way, his ears flush red and you can’t see his cheeks because he hides behind another mouthful of stew, shoulders shielding his face as he hunches.

“I won’t throw anything.” Ruffnut promises, meeting your eye curiously, “But I can’t guarantee my brother won’t.”

“If I throw anything it’s gonna be at you, not at the wall.” Tuffnut grouses, kicking her beneath the table, “And I have, like, such good aim, it would never make a mess.”

“Your whole room is a mess.” Ruffnut scoffs.

Tuffnut yelps, “It’s your room too!” and you’re fairly certain that you’ll be scrubbing stew off of the walls hours from now.

“Guys.” Hiccup cuts in, his voice sterner now, “Guys!”

“What?” The twins shout in unison, brows furrowed as they seethe at the interruption.

“I have something for you two to blow up.” Hiccup pitches, and all at once it’s like they’ve been tranquilized. Their expressions relax, then kick up into pleasant grins.

“You’re speaking our language.” Tuffnut encourages, “So what is it? The hatchery? Mildew’s yard? Snotlout’s house?”

“We were already gonna do that,” Ruffnut shrugs, “But we can move our schedule around.”

Snotlout, who looks justly alarmed at this information, can’t get a word in before Hiccup continues.

“We need you to bomb Y/N’s boat.” He drags his journal out of a pocket on his pants, flipping to the appropriate pages, “And we also need you to not tell Astrid. Or my dad. Or- anyone, really.”

Tuffnut blinks awkwardly at you, a grimace twisting his features, “She’s not gonna be in the boat, is she?”

“No! Why would she-” Hiccup rears back, hands waving wildly, “Oh, whatever. No, she will not be in the boat when you two blow it up. My dad’s only offering her one night on Berk. And she needs more than that. We’re trying to make her a permanent resident, and he can’t send her away tomorrow if her boat’s in chunks throughout the coast.”

“I like where this is going,” Ruffnut nods, her voice gruff and enthusiastic, “And after we blow up her boat, everyone will flock to the ocean to see what happened. It’ll be the perfect time to strike Snotlout’s house!”

“Don’t blow up my house!” Snotlout shrieks, and Hiccup, for once, agrees with him.

“Don’t blow up Snotlout’s house.”

“Fine.” Tuffnut grumbles.

“Whatever,” Ruffnut sighs into her hand.

“So just- in the morning, sneak out before my dad wakes up. Make sure there’s witnesses though- we don’t want anyone thinking Y/N was responsible. Barf and Belch can do their thing, it’ll be dismissed as one of your regular escapades, and Y/N can get comfortable here.”

Tuffnut’s face twists into a pleased smirk, “Oh, but Hiccup, Barf and Belch don’t have to do their thing.”

“Indeed they don’t,” Ruffnut chuckles sinisterly, “We have a better plan.”

“Introducing!” Tuffnut reaches for a bag resting on the seat beside him, a messenger that’s bulging from the inside, “Thorston Productions' newest invention: The Zippleblasts!”

He shakes the bag, and the flap opens, letting tens of round, metal objects fall to the floor. They scatter around the hall, rolling this way and that, and Ruffnut laughs again, “We made bombs.”

Hiccup’s eyes widen, and so do the rest of your tables’, “You made bombs?”

“We made bombs!” Tuffnut shouts, louder than the crowd, and the hall falls silent. He doesn’t seem to notice or care, and no one moves to pick up the explosives at their feet, frozen in fear. “Ruffnut got Barf to breathe a bunch of gas and I kept Belch asleep so he didn’t light it.”

“You made bombs.” Hiccup repeats, “And you brought them into the meade hall?”

“We wanted to show them off,” Ruffnut huffs, as if Hiccup’s the crazy one, “Plus, it’s just gas in there. They’d need fire to get them going.”

“Right, so you brought them to the communal oven.” Snotlout scoffs, warily eyeing the fires still blazing at the head of the hall, “Nice going, geniuses.”

“I-I’d like to take a look at your production process,” Hiccup’s tone is, frankly, terrified, “But that’s a problem for another day. Ruff, Tuff, pick those up and keep them away from any flames. They might be useful if we ever have to fight again, but let’s not tempt fate by carrying them around the village.”

“As you wish, wise leader.” Tuffnut stands to bow dramatically, “Sister! Retrieve the bombs.”

Ruffnut’s already scooping them up from where they’ve rolled off to, and she flings one at Tuffnut’s ankles. It hits bone, and he drops to the floor to clutch at the instantly reddening skin.

“Ow! Hiccup, she bombed me.” Tuffnut gripes, “Can’t you throw her out or something? You’re the son of the chief.”

“Stop throwing them!” Hiccup exclaims, “Tuffnut, help clean them up. Ruffnut, stop throwing them. Just- help. For once. Please.”

“He’s exaggerating.” Ruffnut pops up beneath the table by your feet, snagging one of the explosives that had rolled under your bench. One of the horns on her helmet nearly stabs you in the stomach and you fling an arm around yourself to protect it, “We help all the time. Which is why we can definitely help get you an extra-long vacation on Berk by-”

“By what?” Astrid’s piercing voice cuts through the amicable chatter, Ruffnut’s eyes widening as she snaps her mouth shut. Evidently she's done dishing out yaknog, and is now standing with her food at the head of your table looking entirely unimpressed.

“Nothing!” Ruffnut and Tuffnut declare in unison, physically incapable of sounding more suspicious. Ruffnut disappears beneath the table again, and Tuffnut decides that he has to check on his smarting ankle again, whistling faux-casually all the while.

“Right. Nothing.” Astrid huffs, slamming her own food onto the table beside Hiccup’s, shoving him to the side despite his yelp and squishing him between her and Fishlegs on the bench, “You two are always doing nothing.”

“Astrid, don’t you think you’re being a little rude?” Fishlegs questions, but he seems to regret it when her eyes flash dangerously.

“Have you forgotten what’s happened to us every time someone new shows up out of the blue? Heather tried stealing my dragon her first night on Berk. You really think I’m gonna hold Y/N’s hand and teach her the quickest escape route?”

“Heather was… complicated at first.” Hiccup admits, shoulders around his ears with the way he’s compressed between his friends, “But let’s just try to keep an open mind here. Y/N’s gonna do a fantastic job scrubbing the hall, and we’ll send her off with rations in the morning.”

“Yes, we will.” Astrid speaks through a mouthful of stew, lessening the bite that her tone could have had, “Whatever you're planning, Hiccup, drop it, now. And Ruffnut, Tuffnut?" The twins glance warily at her as she meets their gazes head on and steady, "Stay out of this.”

“So they’re gonna do it?” You ask, your knees aching and your palms smarting from the way you’ve been hunched on the floor for three hours, “They’re gonna blow my boat up tomorrow?”

“They’ll use one of their Zippleblasts, I guess,” Hiccup nods, his eyes widening as his shoulders heave with a sigh, “Don’t worry about Astrid. The twins are the only two people on Berk that won’t listen to her. They don’t listen to anyone.”

“They’re certainly entertaining,” You groan, straightening up to find Hiccup scrubbing his own portion of the hall, “You don’t have to help me, you know? I’m supposed to be doing this all myself.”

“I’ve scrubbed this hall a thousand times.” He admits with a sheepish grin, “I know what I’m doing, and I know how to do it. Besides, we can get it done in half the time. We’ll already be finishing late, I’m not going to leave you hanging all the way until morning.”

“I appreciate it.” Is all you can huff before hunching over again to get a stubborn stain out of the floorboards. One lone fire crackles beneath a pot of stew beside Hiccup, and you can’t wait until you’re finished cleaning and get to indulge in the stuff. It provides warmth, too, but mostly an enticing aroma that keeps you motivated to finish scrubbing.

“So,” Hiccup calls, “Now that we’re alone again, away from the prying eyes of the Berkians, is there anything you feel like sharing?”

“Nice try.” You don’t mean it, “How about instead, we talk about why you’re an expert at cleaning duty?”

“I got in trouble a lot as a kid,” Hiccup admits, shrugging his shoulders while soaping up the wood around the fire, “I’m- clumsy. And I’ve always been imaginative. And bold, I guess. So those were really a recipe for disaster.”

You grimace, “I can imagine. So, what, you blew up the forge every week?”

“No! Just three times.” He grumbles, “And there were a few other incidents, maybe, but hey! This seems completely unfair. You won’t answer any of my questions, but you want me to humiliate myself for entertainment?”

“Fine. I’ll stop asking.” You nod resolutely, tossing water on another expanse of the floor, “I just thought we could make conversation.”

“You can keep asking.” Hiccup offers, his voice suddenly pointed, “If I can get just one honest answer from you.”

“What?” You snap, irritated, shoulders hunched and aching, sweat beading at your brow.

“Were you being honest with my father when you told him whatever you're running from isn't going to disrupt Berk?”

You glance up at Hiccup, surprised by both the question and its tone, and you find him kneeling in your direction, sponge forgotten on the floor and fire illuminating his expression. It’s concerned, but resolute, his brow drawn low and his jaw set tight. He looks chiefly in this light. Like his dad.

“I was.” You promise, sincerely as you meet his eye, “It was- listen, whatever you’re thinking it was, it wasn’t that crazy. Just- they would have hated me. When they found out. It was something stupid I did, and they would have excommunicated me anyways, so I just got it over with and ran away myself. Just some silly, interpersonal drama, and that’s it. It won’t come to Berk.”

He nods once, his face softening in the firelight.

“Good.” He rises to his feet, stumbling slightly with his prosthetic as he hobbles his way over to you on sore limbs, “I know what it's like, you know? Being a social outcast. You’re safe here,” You hear a clinking sound as his metal foot collides with something behind the table leg he walks past, “-and we’ll convince my dad to let you stay.”

“Hiccup.” Your eyes widen, and your stew-filled stomach drops down to your aching feet, “Bomb.”

“What?” His face scrunches in confusion, but at the sound of metal scraping wood, his eyes drop to find one of the twins’ stray, forgotten bombs rolling across the floor of the hall, beelining fast and true straight towards the only fire left in the hall.

Hiccup must have accidentally kicked it open, because a seal in the metal has come undone, leaking noxious green gas that kickstarts your fight or flight response. You’re on your feet in seconds, and you repeat yourself, shouting ‘Bomb!’ as you dash for the door.

“Run!” You scream, as if it might not have occurred to Hiccup. He’s already racing after you, the bomb too quick and close to the fire to stop, and as the blast sounds from behind you, you cross the threshold of what was once Berk’s great hall, but is now a pile of timber as the whole thing collapses.

You’re safe from the blast, but there’s smoke pouring from the building already. You trip and land on your knees outside of the hall's perimeter, and Toothless, who had been asleep outside, exhausted from the day’s patrol, jerks awake, his eyes wide and his ears alert.

“Toothless!” You exclaim, coughing as he bolts upright and rushes towards you, “I- I- It blew up! Hiccup, oh my god, are you okay- Hiccup?”

He’s not behind you.

You freeze, not for long, only for a split second, but long enough to realize that Hiccup hadn’t made it out.

God, you hope he’s not dead.

“Hiccup!” You cry, calling out into the wooden building already fully ablaze, itching to do something but faced with a roaring fire, “Hiccup, can you hear me?”

There’s no answer. Toothless is already rearing back to shoot what’s presumably more fire out of his throat but you push his head aside, “No, no, no! More won’t help! Are you fireproof?”

He screeches angrily at you like you’re not very helpful and he can’t understand you, both of which are probably true.

An alarm bell rings, high up in the village as a watchman shouts, ‘Fire!’

Within seconds, villagers in their pajamas pour from their houses in alarm, and you’re already prying at fallen planks of wood to try to locate Hiccup. They’re scorched, some still on fire, and you hiss as the flames lick at your skin.

“Hiccup!” You shout again, and thundering footsteps appear behind you as you dig through the rubble you can get to, “Hiccup, can you hear me?”

“Hiccup!” Stoick’s voice booms from behind you, “Hiccup’s in there?”

“He didn’t make it out,” You shout, tears beading in your eyes as you find a microscopic opening in the wood, “Help- help me! Help me find him!”

“Get out of the way,” Stoick shoves you aside, roughly enough to send you sprawling on the grass, “I knew you’d be trouble. Gobber! Help me get Hiccup.”

“I’m trying to help him! It wasn’t me!” You scream, and Toothless dashes forwards and picks you up by the neck of your tunic to run you around to what used to be the side of the building. There’s a larger opening there, not enough for a dragon to weasel through, but just barely big enough for you. It hasn't been engulfed in flames yet, but it will be soon. You don't have much time.

You dive in without a second thought- what do you have to lose?

The mass of broken wood is hot and still aflame, and you dodge the roaring fire as you scramble to find Hiccup amidst the carnage. You’re looking for a thick boot, a scruff of brown hair, a scaled shoulder pad, but what you manage to find is a leg, metal and glinting in the firelight.

“Hiccup!” You shriek, grabbing and pulling. To your horror, it slips right off of his body, leaving the most important parts of him still buried.

You groan and toss the metal behind you, digging further through the rubble to unbury him enough. You don’t mean to hit Toothless with the prosthetic, but it manages to alert him that you’ve found his rider, and he bashes a larger hole in the wood with his head to help you unearth Hiccup, thankfully not trying the fire-breathing approach anymore.

“I’ve got his leg!” You screech, your face ashen and sweaty as you fight through the fire, “Toothless, grab hold of his torso, and pull!”

To do this, Toothless retracts his teeth and practically swallows Hiccup’s head. He has to get a good grip on the man, for fear of injuring him without removing him, and you decide you’ll apologize for the spit in his hair after he wakes up.

If he wakes up.

His unconscious face is just as soot-covered as yours, but it’s quickly eclipsed by Toothless’s gummy maw, and you and the dragon work together to pry Hiccup out from the ruins of the hall. The fire blazes around you, and you feel the back of your tunic catch, but you use all of your energy to heave Hiccup out of the rubble before it’s too late.

When you smell fresh air again it’s because Toothless wraps his tail around your middle and helps compensate for your weakness. He drags Hiccup out by the torso and you out by your belly, grunting with exertion as he brings you both to safety away from the fire.

You’re coughing and your back hurts, but Toothless is slapping his tail against your tunic to put out the flames before you can think about dropping and rolling in the grass. It leaves you to worry about Hiccup, and you fall to your knees beside him.

“Hiccup?” You shout, grabbing his face and jostling it back and forth, “Hiccup!”

“Son!” Stoick’s voice reaches your ears again, and you feel the ground shake slightly as he parts the crowd to bound over to you both, “You found him.”

“He was buried,” You pant, coughing at the smoke filling your lungs, “But he’s- I tried, I swear I tried to help-”

Stoick takes the boy from your arms and nestles his ear against Hiccup’s chest, eyes squeezed shut in a silent prayer.

“He’s alive!” Stoick shouts, eyes springing open, and tears of relief and adrenaline bead at your eyes, “He’s alive, he’s- he’s not-”

“Thank the gods.” You breathe, your chest heaving with a sob.

“You.” Stoick grunts, gruff again, cradling his son protectively to his chest. Hiccup begins stirring, coughing the same way you are though his eyes remain closed. Stoick glances at your singed tunic, and the way blood is smeared up your arm from a jagged plank of broken wood, “Why’d you go in after him?”

“Because I didn’t set the fire,” You growl, panicking even though it’s miles away from the politeness you’d promised Hiccup, “It was them!”

You gesture roughly to Ruffnut and Tuffnut, who have shown up beside their two-headed dragon, which you’re sure is the aforementioned Barf and Belch.

Their eyes widen at the accusation, but they don’t deny it, “Uh, you wouldn’t have happened to see one of our bombs, have you? We counted when we got home and one was missing.”

Stoick’s eyes squeeze shut again, this time in exasperation. He clutches Hiccup tighter as the man rouses, eyes blinking open, arms trying to reach his face to rub smoke and ash out of his eyes. Stoick mutters, “Odin’s beard.” Then shouts, “Ruffnut! Tuffnut! Put out the fire. Then, you’ll rebuild the hall. Plank by plank. And I’m confiscating those bombs of yours.”

They protest, but it’s not meaningful- they’d blown up the great hall. They seem to know this and get to work without much fuss, grumbling instead of causing a scene as their dragon takes them all the way to Berk’s water reserves.

“I can-” You pant, fiddling awkwardly with your fingers as you come down from your adrenaline rush, “I can help rebuild it. If you want.”

“I suppose it wasn’t your fault.” Stoick eyes you with a narrowed gaze, peering down at Hiccup who’s barely conscious. He sits the man up against his chest, tipping his head back to open his airway, “Still. It doesn’t help your case that the village blows up the same day you get here.”

“I- I know, but,” You try explaining, but before you can get far a black-and-red tail crosses over your face, and you find yourself pulled backwards against Toothless’s side. The dragon leans his great head over your shoulder and chitters at Toothless, all sass and gruff grumbles.

“That’s rude.” Stoick grunts. “I don’t know what you’ve said to me, Toothless, but I know it’s rude.”

“He said,” Hiccup wheezes, his voice interrupted by a trembling cough as the twins return with water, dumping it over the flames, “That Y/N’s been nothing but helpful so far. She saved my life and it’s only fair that we save hers. He said we should let her stay.”

You’re fairly certain the dragon didn’t say that, but you appreciate both of their efforts anyways.

Stoick sighs deeply, glancing down at his weakened, frail son. Hiccup does look especially pitiful, and you’re sure that’s why Stoick heaves a great sigh, eyes flickering upwards towards you where Toothless is keeping you tightly held against him.

“Right. You did save my son’s life.” Stoick acknowledges, “And that means a great deal to me. You can stay. But-” He points a thick, accusatory finger at you, “Not unconditionally, and not forever. You earn your keep, you stay out of trouble, and we’ll find you someplace else to stay.”

“That’s all I ask.” You breathe, shoulders lifting as Stoick releases their burden, “I’ll work for my food and wherever I sleep. And I won’t cause trouble. I swear on my life. And- and thank you. For helping me.”

“You’re welcome.” Stoick meets your gaze, his eyes deep and soulful, Chiefly the same way Hiccup’s were a mere ten minutes ago as he clutches his son to his chest, “Don’t make me regret it.”

#excuse me barmaid #hiccup haddock x reader #hiccup haddock imagine #hiccup haddock fanfiction #hiccup haddock fluff #hiccup haddock angst #hiccup haddock oneshot #hiccup haddock drabble #hiccup haddock blurb #hiccup haddock headcanons #hiccup haddock headcanon #hiccup haddock x you

214 notes · View notes

ballvalveinahmedabad · 10 months ago

Text

Swing Check Valve in Ahmedabad - Gold Techno Casting

Gold Techno Casting is a leading manufacturer and supplier of high-quality Swing Check Valves in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India. We offer a wide range of carbon steel swing check valves for various industrial applications.

Google Map:--> https://maps.app.goo.gl/XJFpZAP246oxnbTk6

Swing Check Valve in Ahmedabad, Swing Check Valve in Ahmedabad Gujarat, Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve Manufacturer in Ahmedabad Gujarat, Top Swing Check Valve Dealers in Ahmedabad, Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve, Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve in Ahmedabad, Top Swing Check Valve Manufacturers in Ahmedabad, Swing Type Check Valve Manufacturer from Ahmedabad, Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve in Ahmedabad Gujarat India, Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve Manufacturer in Ahmedabad , Wholesale Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve Supplier, Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve Wholesaler Trader, Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India, www.goldtechnocasting.com/carbon-steel-swing-check-valve.php, Gold Techno, Gold Techno Casting

#Swing Check Valve in Ahmedabad #Swing Check Valve in Ahmedabad Gujarat #Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve Manufacturer in Ahmedabad Gujarat #Top Swing Check Valve Dealers in Ahmedabad #Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve #Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve in Ahmedabad #Top Swing Check Valve Manufacturers in Ahmedabad #Swing Type Check Valve Manufacturer from Ahmedabad #Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve in Ahmedabad Gujarat India #Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve Manufacturer in Ahmedabad #Wholesale Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve Supplier #Carbon Steel Swing Check Valve Wholesaler Trader #Ahmedabad #Gujarat #India #www.goldtechnocasting.com/carbon-steel-swing-check-valve.php #Gold Techno #Gold Techno Casting

0 notes

thebearer · 2 years ago

Text

the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a little tipsy, definitely hungry, and missing carmen, you find your way to the restaurant after closing to see him.

my first work/ blurb here <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!

contains: 18+minors dni. mentions of a gun and alcohol but not in a bad way lol? established relationship. slight mentions of a dom/sub dynamic. language. but really just fluff fluff fluff <3

"Yo! We're fucking closed!" Richie's voice boomed, throwing down the rag on the table. He huffed, teeth gritting, trying to remember to count yet he was still reaching for the gun in holster. Sure, he could be calm, but he still needed to be safe.

The pounding on the glass continued, a muffled, giggly scream from the other side of the blinds hiding the entrance. "Richie! Let us innnn!"

"Cousin," Carmen yelled from the back, running a bandaged hand through his curls. "What's goin' on?"

Richard rolled his eyes, peeking through the blinds to confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, there you were, standing on the sidewalk in fucking Chicago with your heels in your hand, leaning onto your friend for support. Carmy was gonna be pissed, that was for certain.

"It's your girl." Richie scoffed, twisting the lock so it unfastened with a loud click, the bell trilling when he pulled it open.

"Richie!" You cheered, staggering on your feet. "Told you they'd still be here." You told Alicia, looping an arm around hers.

"My girl?" Carmen repeated, pushing the swinging doors of the kitchen, heavy chef's clogs on the freshly mopped ground.

"The hell you doin'?" Richie looked at you, face deadpanned and unimpressed. His arm held the door open for you and your friend anyways, jerking his head so the two of you huddled in.

"We did karaoke tonight." You grinned at Richie, clutching the nearest booth when you passed to steady yourself.

Karaoke night was a once a month occurrence, down at Trader Todd's. Carmen had went twice with you and Alicia before, it was a little too touristy for him, but he liked watching you sing. He'd laughed so hard his sides hurt when you serenaded a Nickelback song to him because "it seemed like something he'd like". It was good, nice to laugh like that. It was nice to be with you.

Carmen furrowed his brow, hands thrown out towards you lightly. "What are ya doin'?" He asked, rag slung over his shoulder.

You rolled your lip, eyes trailing down his tattooed, veiny arms. "Just left karaoke." You hummed, striding playfully over to him. "Got hungry and I just so happen to know a place with the best fries in the world."

Carmen snorted when you looped your arms around his neck, swaying with him gently. Richie huffed, eyeing Alicia at the booth. "We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"

"Can't make an exception for us?" You pouted, looking over your shoulder at Richie. "C'mon, we came all this way for nothing? Not a single fry?"

"You walked here?" Carmen's eyes flashed at you.

"You need a cuppa coffee is what you need." Richie rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin's comment.

"Ooh, I'd take a cup of coffee." Alicia nodded, head propped on her hand at the freshly cleaned booth, still a little wet and sticky. "And a slice of cake."

"Mmm," You nodded in agreement, grinning at her.

"Hey," Carmen's hand cradled your jaw gently, tugging your gaze back to him. "Did you walk here?"

"No." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, curling into his calloused hands anyways. "We Ubered."

"Good." Carmen hummed, his hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing you closer into his touch. "I'd have your ass if you did, you hear me?" He muttered, low and gravelly in your ear, hand trailing down to the swell of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh through your dress. A warning or simply just him being playful, you weren't sure, but you flushed nonetheless, knees buckling.

"Kitchen's closed." Carmen announced, looking at you and Alicia, both your boos and cries of protest a chorus bouncing off the empty walls. "But I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee and see if we have any left over cake, but you," His finger poked your side, leaving you squealing and squirming in his grasp. "Have to clean up."

"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully.

Carmen rolled his eyes, but pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Brief and light, not nearly the same kiss he gave you this morning before he left for work. When you were still rolled up in the warm covers, eyes fluttering with sleep, the light of the morning on your skin.

Carmen patted your ass lightly, before turning back to go to the kitchen. You grinned triumphantly, snagging two forks and napkins before sliding into the booth across from Alicia. Richie's face fell, dropping the rag on the table he was cleaning.

"Oh, no fuckin' way. Cousin!" Richie yelled, stomping towards the kitchen. "Carmen, we're closed!"

"I got is, cousin. You can go." Carmen nodded towards the door, scooping the ground beans into the pot. "Gotta take them home anyways. I'll finish up."

Richie's face fell slightly, eyes bouncing from Carmen back to you and your friend, giggling over your phones, slumped into the booths.

Carmen looked at him, brow raised at his displeasure. "What?"

Richie huffed. "I just finished cleanin' the tables, and-and I'm tryin' real hard here to help you out and be better, but cousin, you gotta-"

"-They'll clean it up." Carmen said firmly, pressing the button firmly. "Or my girl will. I'll make sure of it, alright? I got it."

"Carmy-"

"-Look, Richie, I appreciate you helping me. I do. You've done real good too." Carmen said genuinely. "But I got it covered. Why don't you go sit with them? Tell Alicia the Bill Murray story, she'll like it." He nodded towards your friend.

Richie's ears perked, turning to look at the girl across from you. His love life was still shit, that was for sure, bad date after bad date. "You think?" Richie asked in a low tone.

Carmen shrugged casually. "Sure, yeah. Watch. Hey, baby," Carmen called to you. "You ever told Alicia about when Richie met Bill Murray?"

"Oh my God, no." You giggled, head tipping back onto the booth.

"Wait," Alicia looked over at Richie with a small grin. "Bill Murray? Ghostbusters, Bill Murray?"

"Yes, holy shit, Richie you hafta tell her." You giggled, tapping the table lightly. "He got him to do his voicemail and-"

"- Hold on, you gotta start from the beginning or it'll make no sense." Richie held his hands up, sauntering over to the two of you. "Alright, so I'm absolutely hammered. It's six-forty-five in the fucking morning, me and Mikey are leavin' the bar just drunk outta our minds..." Richie pulled a chair up to the table, exaggeratedly launching into his story.

Carmen smirked to himself, cutting two slices of cake and plating them off the still warm, clean dishes. He could hear Richie's voice trilling louder and louder, your laugh a delicate melody that soothed his chest, filled it with warmth.

Carmen slid beside you, just in time for the voice mail, setting your coffee and plate next to you. You muttered a small thank you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved into his side.

"No shit, it's still your voicemail?" Alicia gasped, eyes shining at Richie's

"Swear to God." Richie held his hands up. "Call it right now, you'll hear it."

Alicia looked over at you. You nodded, picking up your fork. "It's true."

"Well, now I gotta hear it for myself." Alicia declared, snatching her phone off the table. "What's your number?"

Richie flushed for a second, faltering before he sputtered out the number. You looked up at Carmen, brows raised in amusement. He shrugged lightly, pushing the coffee closer to you. "Drink it f'me, please."

You cradled the still steaming mug, lifting it to your lip while Alicia's jaw dropped, hearing Bill Murray's voice on the other end. "Oh my God!" She gasped, laughing. "That is so fucking amazing!"

"Thank you!" Richie threw a hand out to her. "It is fucking amazing. My proudest accomplishment- well, beside my daughter, of course, but a close second."

"How old is your daughter?" Alicia scooted closer, lashes batting towards Richie as he pulled out his phone to flick through photos.

You smirked, looking up at Carmen. "Thanks for the cake," You hummed, resting your head on his arm. "And the coffee."

"Anything for you, c'mon." Carmen shrugged, trying to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't done this before, really, had a relationship like this. One that felt this good. One where he felt this safe with someone.

"I'll clean it up, promise." You yawned, lashes fluttering, while your head fell heavier and heavier pressed on his bicep. "Hand wash 'em if you want me too."

"I know you will." Carmen muttered, shimmying his arm out so he could wrap it around you, letting you fall into his chest.

He didn't let you clean up, though. You stayed half awake, a little woozy and sleepy in the booth, listening to Alicia and Richie's playful flirting. You'd tried to get up, but he snatched the plate gently from you before you could, nodding at you to stay put.

You held his hand the whole way back to the apartment, resting in the center console, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Richie had offered to take Alicia home, which she eagerly agreed to, leaving the two of you to return to your own place.

Carmen shimmying your dress off you gently, tucking you under the covers with him. The apartment didn't have the same haunting presence here that his old one did. Not tainted with nightmares or fears. No, here he felt good. Happy memories he'd created with you, loving ones that filled his chest with contentment. He still had his moments, waking in a cold sweat screaming and clinging to you, but they were becoming scarcer with each day. He took care of you, and you took care of him- it was everything he'd ever fucking wanted.

5K notes · View notes

eternalbright-star · 1 year ago

Text

Herobrine x F!reader

🌷A/n: Am I really doing this? Of course I am, I want that Herobrine smut but can't find it on here. (First official post on here and it's smut-)

🌷warnings: smut, dubcon/noncon(?), hair pulling, marking, tentacles(just a bit), creampie, aphrodisiac, mentions of stalking, fingering. (let me know if I missed anything)

You honestly could find it within you to question how you got into this predicament, you just needed to find sugarcane for your farm so you could harvest them and make paper for books in your enchantment table.

But because they were so hard to find near where you had set up base, you needed to travel a bit far across the land, which caused you to be out after sun down, so now you were trying to avoid monsters that come bumping at night.

So with sword and shield equipped, you carefully trudged through the forest, not being able to throw away the feeling that someone must be watching you.

You chalked it up to a wandering trader who managed to drink an invisibility potion to avoid being attacked by zombies, but what didn't come across your mind was you didn't see his usual llama companions around.

You dodged branches and arrows, eyes focused at the path up ahead of you, despite being far from home, you still wanted to get out of the forest, something about it seemed to make you so unnerved and you just wanted to be away where you could have so many vulnerabilities.

Not really noticing the glowing white eyes that stared at you in the dark, nor did you notice tentacles that stalked you in the dark and approached you like a predator would with its prey.

But you did however feel the appendages wrap around your ankle, pulling you down to the forest ground with a shout of surprise as your body collided with the grassy ground.

You twisted your body to look at what had grabbed at your ankle and gasped in horror at the dark tentacle that wrapped itself at your ankle, brain trying to figure out what the source of the tentacle could've come from.

With footsteps being heard, your eyes glance up, causing you to shriek and crawl away as you looked at the being that approached you, with such predatory intent at that.

"Let me go!" You shouted, gripping the handle of your sword tightly and swinging at it, hitting the side of the tentacle. When you did so, a loud shriek was heard as he withdrew his tentacles and took a step back, cradling the injured appendage.

You twisted your body and stood up, nearly tripping and falling on your face as you ran away, lungs burning as you selfishly inhaled oxygen, as you looked back, watching as his silhouette became smaller.

But it didn't seize your running, but you couldn't get far when you were pushed to the ground, you were being pushed from your upper back onto the ground, your cheek making contact with the grass blades below you, “Let me go-” you were interrupted when a tentacle was shoved into your mouth.

Something sweet had ran down your tongue and down your throat, causing you to swallow the sweet substance, the tentacle had slowly retracted, and you tried to get up, but the burning feeling in your body stopped you from doing so.

“Ah…” you breathed heavily as you began to sweat, you tried lifting yourself up using your arms but you couldn't, so you laid there with your head buried in your arms with your ass sticking up in the air.

You quickly flinched as you felt a hand rub your crotch, causing you to make a muffled sound, you turned your head and weakly stared behind you as Herobrine knelt behind you, rubbing you through your pants.

You couldn't help but grind against his hand, trying to seek friction and satiate the pain growing in your lower stomach, so it didn't bother as much as you thought it would when you felt his hand go underneath your clothing, his hand toying with you nipples and how his fingers seemed to rub your folds, gathering up your slick.

Your body jerked when he rubbed your clit particularly hard, eliciting a shrill moan from you, every touch, every caress seemed to make your pussy so wet.

He flipped you onto your back, your eyes making in contact with his white eyes that seemed to glow brightly in the dark, he ran a hand down your thigh and squeezed your ass, while his other gripped your hair to pull your head back to bite you on the neck, eliciting a groan to come out of your mouth.

Your body felt so heavy and hot, and your clothes were not helping at all because of how constricting it was, so you tried to pull your clothes off of you, but was too weak from whatever substance he had made you swallow.

His stare bore into you, but he helped you take your clothes off nonetheless, leaving you in your underwear beneath him, he pushed his hips against your crotch, making you feel the hard on he had as he let you wrap your legs around his waist, he lifted up your bra to let your boobs spill out of the garment, grasping the soft mound and giving it a little squeeze before he took it into his mouth.

Sucking and licking your nipple as he pinched and pulled the other, grinding his cock against your clothed pussy, eliciting a moan out of you, your hand grasping his brown locks as you arched your back .

He let go of your nipple with a 'pop', his thumb hooking onto your panties to pull them off, leaving you bare under him on the grass, the moons light reflecting onto your wet pussy as you laid there all pliant for him to use as he pleases.

He ran his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick on his fingers before he sensually rubbed your hole, occasionally giving attention to your throbbing clit.

You were so...

So sensitive.

You couldn't help but feel so lost in the pleasure, you couldn't help but cry out when two fingers had entered you, his fingers much thicker than yours were, giving you this feeling of a burning stretch as he slowly thrusted his fingers inside your warm walls.

Being able to hit the spot that even your fingers couldn't during those lonely nights, all while you crumble completely just from his fingers, Herobrine watches you with a careful eye, watching your reactions and changing his pace and direction based on how you reacted and cried out.

His hard-on pressing against your inner thigh as he continued to watch you come undone, even after your first orgasm, he didn't stop, his pace remained the same way, but his thrusts were so hard and precise it had you shaking, that he needed to put a hand on your thigh to stop you from closing your legs.

Once you came a second time, that was when he found you fit to be able to take his cock, he pulled his fingers out of your pussy, his fingers and palm was coated with your juices, he stared at his hand before popping his fingers into his mouth, curious as to what you tasted like.

You watched with lidded eyes as he sensually licked and sucked his fingers of your essence, once he finished licking his finger clean, he leaned forward and buried his face against your neck while he unbuttoned his pants, slipping his hard cock out that leaked precum.

You shivered when you felt the head of his cock was being rubbed against your folds, coating his cock with your slick to lube him up. He licked and sucked at different places on your skin while he teased your hole with his cock.

Whatever skin he could bite and suck on was marked by him, like a show for territorial matter, like he's marking you as his.

When the tip of his cock is pressed against your hole, he could feel your pussy try to already greedily suck him in, pushing inside of you slowly as he leaned against his forearm that was next to your head, his free hand on your hip so he could properly insert himself inside of you without having to squirm so much.

Once he fully bottomed out, your mouth hung open while your eyes seemed to be on the verge of rolling to the back of your head as your sensitive body accepted his full size, his cock was like no other, he seemed to fit so snuggly inside you.

After what felt like minutes, he gave off a few experimental thrusts before fully on thrusting hard into you, changing into a more comfortable position so he could hold your hips with both his hands, to properly grind your hips against his.

As he thrusted inside of you brutally, the sounds of skin on skin contact and your loud moans echoed around the forest, his presence having made any nearby monster avoid the area around the two of you, giving you two the privacy that you needed.

Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders to keep you grounded, but all it did was have his pelvis grind against your clit, adding to the stimulation that had your eyes forming tears in the corner of your eyes from the severe pleasure, feeling so lost in his touch.

You were so perfect.

Herobrine could help but bite your bottom lip, wanting to tease and pleasure you at the same time, but that could be for another time, he could finally be able to get the taste of this pussy of yours.

You'd always felt that you were being stared at, but what you didn't know was who was doing it, he hung around your area ever so often, watching you from your window as you tried to pleasure yourself during those lonely nights.

Now he can be able to pleasure you over and over so many times, as he pleases.

He could feel that you're close, with the way your pussy was clenching his cock tightly, as if it greedily begs for his cum to fill you up.

With a bite of his lip and furrowed eyebrows, he lifted your hips, the new angle had you seeing stars as he hit the right spot over and over, a pornographic moan didn't hesitate to escape your lips as you desperately clung to him, your nails having been clawing at his skin through his shirt.

With a final thrust, the two of you came together, the thread in your belly having been snapped as you shivered, feeling ropes of his hut cum being shoot into you, your body flinching at the feeling of being full.

When you thought it was finally over, he had you flipped onto your stomach and he was thrusting into you over again, pulling in your hair to pull you against him, your back making in contact with his chest as he pounded into you.

The two of you going at it the entire night as he fucked loads and loads of his cum into you, by the end of it, you were spent and the effects of the aphrodisiac had already worn off, and yet you were still begging for his cock.

🌷End note: That's all for today! Hope you guys like this one, I spent too much time writing a full on smut , but here it his, hope you're proud of me!

#Minecraft #Minecraft Herobrine #Herobrine x reader #Herobrine smut #Herobrine x reader smut #x reader #smut

613 notes · View notes

windssong · 4 months ago

Text

A Long Way To Mushrooms // Astarion x gnTav

summary: Astarion doesn’t quite understand why you would go as far as to jump into some monsters hole for someone like him.

word count: 2k+

tags/warnings: fluff, brief angst, comfort, action

authors note: I will always find a way to shove in a lord of the rings reference lol Enjoy!

—

It was while in the Underdark that Astarion stumbled upon a memory he’d thought he lost forever.

“And if you happen to come across any Weeping Mushrooms, you’re either dead or soon will be.” Blurg, a trader stationed in the Mytholod Colony, warned. He handed over the enchanted ring, pressing it into the palm of your hand. “So run. Don't try to pick them.”

You closed your fingers over the ring. “Never heard of them. Are they rare?”

Astarion opened his mouth to speak, but the member of The Society of Brilliance was quicker.

“Rare?” He laughed. “Far from it. There's frankly too many of them. They’re simply impossible to get a hold of. Thanks to the Bulettes.”

“They eat mushrooms?”

“Only the Weeping ones. They take the teardrop shaped fungi from the surface all the way down into their burrows. Nasty creatures.” He said.

You stashed the glowing jewelry into your personal satchel and put the rest of the camp supplies you purchased in the large bag. The ring would allow you to see into the darkest of places, and in The Underdark, you needed all the special items you could get.

“Sounds like a pain.” You said.

“It is. I’ll get my hands on some one day. But not at the expense of my life.” The mushroom trader glanced at Astarion, then back at you. He pressed on a smile. “Happy discovering.”

With that successful exchange over and supplies secured, you turned to head back to your champions who were setting up at the new campsite.

Astarion was too absorbed in his thoughts to follow.

The strain in his face turned from a quiet curiosity to pure aching. His hands fell to his side, skin taut across his fingers. “Shit.” He cursed under his breath.

There was a moment of silence before he let out a sharp scoff. “Of course it’s gone.” He shook his head, hands finding his hips. “I can’t have anything.”

You tilted your head. “What’s gone?”

“Huh?” He stared blankly at the ground before coming to his senses. “Oh, nothing. Just some pesky memory floating around.” He frowned. “Can’t seem to catch it.”

You stepped closer. “Do you need help catching it?”

The sweet and genuine smile plastered across your face caught him off guard. “No… Not unless you want to be devoured by some dark creature.”

You recalled how he sank his teeth into your soft flesh the night before, cradling your life in his hands. Your heart fluttered. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Astarion licked his lips, eyes lingering on your pulsating neck. “And not the last, I hope.” He grinned.

“Of course no-” You shut your mouth, cheeks heating up underneath his gaze. All he had to do was look at you with those ruby eyes and your insides were eager to turn themselves into knots.

He leaned in closer. “I’m glad to hear it.” The words swam in the air, perfectly constructed for you.

Then, the knots in your stomach came undone.

There was a twinkle in the red that didn’t look right. His eyes were holding up a smile you found to be empty. They were fighting a battle beneath a carefully curated facade. You searched a blank canvas waiting for a drop of paint to return.

He froze. “What? What are you looking for?”

Astarion ran through every scenario in his head. He didn’t know whether you were trying to figure him out or already had. All his plans would fall to ruin if you did.

“Nothing.” You stammered.

It was unconvincing, but he was thankful for it.

You cleared your throat, shifting the weight of the bag on to your back. “Come on. We’ve got everything we need. Let’s head back.”

“Right.” He trailed behind you and watched. Watched as you held your head high passed the Myconids, then swing low once you were out of sight.

The walk back was silent, save for the booming heart of The Underdark beating underneath your every step.

You stole a quick glance back at the rogue. Some days, you saw someone as hard as stone. Other times, he was as see through as the wind. You couldn’t decide what you were seeing right now.

The ground continued to rumble beneath you. Groans and eerie noises echoed across the landscape.

When he caught you staring, you turned away.

You were a mile from camp when he spotted a single Weeping Mushroom poking its head out from a pile of dirt off to the side of the path.

You noticed the lack of footsteps behind you and turned around. “What is it?”

“I remember.”

You followed his line of sight. The mushroom certainly lived up to its name. The top of its body was shaped like a teardrop. It glistened with a shiny, wet top, as if it were crying. The entire fungi glowed a soft blue and white. It was much smaller than you thought given that the large creatures that roamed here ate them as one of their main sources of food. Apparently they came in many sizes.

Astarion said it again. “I remember now.” He didn’t fight the soft smile spreading on his face. “I used to eat these during my time as a Magistrate.” It was like he was his old self for a moment. “They tasted as sweet as a berry. Even sweeter.”

You folded your arms, listening attentively.

He was inching closer to the fungi without noticing. “I wasn’t well liked by the citizens of Baldur's Gate, understandably so, which meant less frequent trips to the market. So, it was always a good day if I could find some.” His hand hovered over the glowing teardrop. “I can’t believe I forgot such a silly little thing.”

Before his fingers could grasp it, the ground shook with a sudden jolt and the Weeping Mushroom tumbled down along with all the dirt. Astarion jumped back before he was taken down into the gaping hole with it.

You both peeked your heads over the ledge.

Astarion coiled back, nose turned away. “Whatever is down there can keep it.” He brushed off the dust and dirt covering his armor.

“Do you think it’s okay?” You quipped.

Astarion ran a hand down his face. “Now your heart’s bleeding over a mushroom?” He pointed down the hole. “A mushroom?”

“You’re the one that reached for it.” You rolled your eyes, pushing your bag into his arms. “Here. Take this.” Your hands fished for the items you were going to need for this detour.

“What are you doing?”

The ground shook again, this time enough to have you gripping Astarions arms for support. You wore a shy grin. Astarions didn’t know if he wanted to shove you away or bring you in closer. When it settled down, you continued going through your things.

Astarion watched as you pulled out a potion of Feather Fall and Flying from your bag. “You’re not seriously doing what I think you’re doing?”

The glass bottle was cool to the touch. You took the cap off. “Oh, I am.”

You couldn’t smell anything except for the foul odor simmering from the burrow you were about to jump into.

There was an icy coldness to his tone. He tapped his foot back and forth against the ground. “This is a waste of time. And resources.”

“We'll survive.” You responded passively.

He pursed his lips. “According to that trader, we won’t. Certainly, not down there against that foul beast.”

Taking the bottle away from your mouth, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “You didn’t listen to him in the first place when he asked us not to go anywhere near them.”

Astarion took a moment to reflect before letting out a sigh. “Point taken.”

You grinned then downed the entire bottle at once. Each potion would last only a few minutes, which gave you plenty of time to get down there, grab the mushroom and fly back up with it in hand.

The darkness below beckoned you to follow it. No matter how far you looked, you couldn’t see where it ended. “Oh! Almost forgot.” You rummaged through the small satchel around your torso.

You pulled the enchanted ring out, slipping it onto your finger. As soon as you put it on, you could see through the overwhelming darkness. A blue light shined at the bottom of the hole.

“It looks ridiculous.” Astarion said.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I quite like it.” You flipped your hand back and forth, examining the glowing jewelry.

“Of course you do. You have dreadful taste. Except for me, of course.”

Before you could jab back in response, a piercing roar echoed from the large crater. It rocked the ground again, nearly sending both of you onto your backs. It stopped after a few seconds and The Underdark let out a deep sigh.

Astarion clasped his hands together. “So, having any second thoughts now?”

Before plunging into the black abyss, you turned to him. “No. If it brings back a fond memory for you, it’s worth it.”

Not much shocked Astarion anymore. He’d seen worse than what they'd experienced on this journey so far. Worse things had been done to him. He was used to it.

But, he was not used to this.

Those words stuck in his mind. He couldn’t get them out, no matter how hard he tried to remind himself this relationship wasn’t genuine. Just a means to an end. To keep him safe.

Wasn’t it?

Then, why was he so petrified watching as your feet stepped over that ledge?

You were gone before he could give you a proper response.

The air circled your body protectively as you fell. The pungent smell was almost overwhelming. It took everything in you not to let loose the contents of your stomach all over yourself. It was less than a minute later when you reached the bottom. Your feet hit the dirt. You could only make out 40ft in front of you with the arcane jewel.

A disquieting silence filled the networking systems of tunnels. The glowing mushroom was a shining light in the pitch black cavern. You picked up the small fungi, holding it in the palm of your hand.

Astarions voice echoed from above. “Alright, you can come back up now. As amusing as it sounds, I don’t really feel like watching you be eaten alive today.”

Not wanting to make a sound and attract the Bulettes attention, you pulled out the potion of Flying and drank it in full. The magic raced through your veins. You could feel your feet levitating in the air.

You could see his white hair against the rocky backdrop. His face was somewhere in between awe and the rest lost in shadow.

Whether it was awed by your audacity or your complete and utter stupidity, you didn’t know.

“Look out!”

Your body was slammed into a wall of rock before you realized you were even hit.

White hot agony coursed through every nerve. The shock reverberated in your chest. Your ribs cracked like two enemy swords clashing together. Muscles spasmed underneath intense pressure. Your head throbbed, it was trying to keep itself above the rising tide. Your vision was blurred, you could barely make out the wall of dirt coming your way.

Instinctively, you reached for your sword behind your back, but it was nowhere to be found. It was knocked off when the creature body slammed you.

The adrenaline rushing through you was practically your friend at this point. It greeted you with a burst of fire in your lungs.

Right before the monstrosity bared its fury out from the ground, you managed to roll away. The roll nearly knocked the breath out of you, but you kept focus, dodging another hit from the Burette.

“Damn you!” Astarions voice was growing closer.

Why did it sound so close?

Then you saw it.

A figure falling from the hole above. Astarion landed with a rough thud on top of the creature before it could burrow back underground. His daggers met the weak spot on the back of its neck. The creature roared in pain, flinging Astarion off its back. It disappeared into the dirt.

Astarion hit the floor a few feet away from you. He rubbed at his side, eyes shut tightly. “I am going to kill you.” He seethed through his teeth.

He took a deep breath. “After we get out of here.”

You stood on wobbling legs. The pain had rattled your entire system. You were seeing multiple Astarions sitting before you.

“I… l got the…” you swallowed. You felt blood run down your throat. When you tried speaking again, only a weak whimper came out.

Astarion made his way towards you, still wincing from the fall he had without using any magic. “Darling.” He put an arm around you, holding you up. “Try to breathe, okay?”

You nodded, sucking in a sharp breath. “Sword. My… sword.” You managed.

Astarion scanned the dark and humid area. Your sword was all the way across the other side, shimmering next to a cluster of hidden Weeping Mushrooms. There must have been hundreds of the fungi trapped within this hole. Maybe even more in the tunnels surrounding all sides.

He set you against the rocky wall. His fingers lingered over your skin. They were cool against your burning flesh and brushed lightly over your bloody knuckles. “Stay here.” He said.

His thumb found a small cut over your chin. He gently wiped a bead of blood away. You couldn’t tell if your heart was still racing from the adrenaline or his touch.

The rogue picked his steps carefully. He was light on his feet, so he was able to make it to the other side before it broke the surface.

Astarion retrieved your Radiant infused blade, shoving it into the Brulettes eye before it could hit him. It shrieked in pain, retreating again.

By the time he was back by your side, your vision was coming back to you, and you could stand on your own.

He handed you your weapon. “Now take us out of this shithole before it comes back.”

You nodded, leading him to the center of the cave system. Right in the middle was the opening in the ceiling.

He wrapped his arms around you, trying his best to cause as little pain as possible to your injuries.You stared up at the giant hole above you, remembering the potion you had taken. And how long it actually lasted.

“Astarion?”

His eyes were shut tight. He hugged your body, ready to feel his body levitate out of here.

You poked his cheek. “Astarion.”

“What!?”

“It wore off.”

“Oh.”

Echoes of The Underdark filled the spacious cavern.

Astarion gritted his teeth, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Well, this wasn’t the way I expected to go out.”

“No, we’ll get through thi-”

The rumbling started again. Before you could tell where the Bulette was coming from, the floor crumbled beneath you, its jaws opened wide at your feet and it swallowed both you and Astarion whole.

There was too much to process.

Astarions screaming in your ear. The wet inside of the Bulettes mouth. The feeling of weightlessness as it tunneled up to the surface of the Underdark.

But, in the thick of the chaos, you were able to find a moment of clarity. You slammed your sword upwards and sliced through the Bulettes skull from the inside. It took a couple of hits before you could see a crack of light through the side of its head. The monster thrashed around in pain and you lost the blade.

With an empty hand, you found Astarions and squeezed it tightly. He eventually squeezed back.

Good. He would be conscious for this part.

With one final trick in your arsenal, you pulled out a smoke powered bomb from your satchel.

With little time left before it burrowed back down to its home and swallowed you whole, you threw the grenade down its throat and into its stomach.

There was a bright flash, then a wall of fire poured over you as the creature's body blew out from all sides.

Astarion and you were flung out of the creature's hanging jaw, falling back onto the hard surface below.

Blood rained down like a fierce crimson storm. It stuck to your skin and armor, wherever it landed. There was no place on your body where you weren’t covered in it.

The only part of the Bulette that remained was the bottom half of its body. It laid across the pathway, blocking the road back to your campsite.

It took a few minutes to compose yourselves, but soon, you were standing over the burnt carcass, bruised, bloody yet still put together.

Astarion spit on the ground. He turned towards you in a blaze of fury. “All of this over a mushroom!? We could’ve died. You could’ve-”

Your arm was already outstretched towards him. He stopped, looking at your closed fist. As you opened your fingers, the Weeping Mushroom greeted the air with its soft light. It was covered in dirt and speaks of the Bulettes blood.

“Sorry about all that. But I’m sure we can wash it off back at camp.”

Your face lit up with a bright smile. It was the only light Astarion found in this god awful place.

Over his 200 years of existence, he’d seen countless pretty faces. But, seeing you here, with your arm outstretched in kindness and body caked in guts and dirt, he realized he’d never seen anything as beautiful as you looked right now.

#astarion acunin #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x gn!tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #one shot #ravens masterlist

150 notes · View notes