Hi I’m Magz I’m a non-binary dork. 18+ BLOG!!! I kinda write what I want when I want cause depression and life. I’ll take requests. Expect Star Wars content, Pedro Pascal character content, and Baldurs Gate III (mainly Astarion). MASTERLIST
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text

Just speedrunning the terf to fash pipeline
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Come Softly
Frankie Morales x nonbinary!reader
Masterlist : Triple Frontier Masterlist
Summary: At Will's wedding, Frankie noticed your back pain.
Warnings: Chronic back and neck pain and feelings around that. Ablism. Misgendering.
Immersivity: Reader uses they/them pronouns. Reader dresses more fem for the wedding (dress, talks about heels), reader has chronic back/neck pain.
Written for @mani-pedro I had this idea in my head for a while but I saw you were in pain rn and needed comfort so I decided NOW IS THE TIME
Written also for Disability Visibility! Theres one more technical day left as it goes through May, BUT I have a few who reached out about extensions so if you need one just hmu!!!
1.4k Words
A/N: Yes this is a version on my LAL universe you'll recognize the names Alice and Lorelei okay I just like using them in other stories!!
The night had been going well, honestly. Frankie had convinced you it was okay to wear your flats, the ones with doctor Scholl's support built in to help the body pains, and although it did upset you that your body couldn’t handle the sexy heels you used to rock back in the day, you do feel more comfortable.
Only Benny’s girlfriend, Alice, had made a comment about the shoes, but you didn't feel like a fight tonight. You didn’t know what Ben saw in her, especially when it was clear to everyone but Ben that Santi was in love with him. Ben was a mystery to everyone, including Will. Despite the outgoing personality, he kept his secrets to himself.
You danced slow to Come Softly To Me by the Fleetwoods, Frankie’s arms wrapped around you. Frankie looked handsome as ever, his little tuxedo and bowtie, grinning like an idiot the whole time he stood to the right of Will for his wedding. Frankie loved his friends dearly, and seeing them happy made him happy. You thumb at your engagement ring. You and him were next.
He rubs at the known sore spots, the backless dress allowing open access. “How are you feeling? I notice you’ve been sitting a lot.”
You want to lie and say fine, but you knew you needed to trust Frankie with your pain, love him enough to share it.
“My back hurts…” You mumble into the crisp, starched dress clothes.
“Usual spots, or more whole back?”
“Whole upper back and then that spot lower right. By my ribs.”
Frankie hums, starts rubbing at that spot to ease it. Frankie knows all your usual pain points, the pain and him long enemies. You once joked that him and your back were enemies, but Frankie insisted it wasn’t your back that was the problem, but the pain. You know he doesn’t want to issue the blame to your body, but sometimes it’s like you can’t separate the two. Your body and pain were one most days, it was just a matter or how much. You never could medicate to pain free, only manageable.
🎶‘I want, want you to know
I love, I love you so
Please hold, hold me so tight
All through, all through the night’🎶
“Feels nice…” You love how he touches you, whether for pleasure or to ease the pain, sometimes both. His longer fingers knew intimately the ways in which you hurt, the ways you tingled and aches and thrummed. He knew how to take so much of the pain away. Never all of it, but much of it. He was a pilot, an engineer. You body was like a plane to him, something his hands were capable of bringing to their highest performance.
In the early days of dating him, it was a rare fight, but his attentiveness did, in fact, cause one. You were tired of chasing a cure. While you tried new things to ease the pain, you gave up searching to cure pain that had been with you for so long. Your neck and back were fucked, they always would be. Frankie hadn’t given up on you, and you found it sweet… but sometimes you had wondered if he was trying to cure his way into a partner who could sit at barstools without a backrest, who could go on long hikes, who didn’t need a heating pad packed every vacation and a medicine cabinet full of remedies.
You wondered if he wished he had a partner who could wear heels.
It had caused a fight, and you tried to break up with him, tried to free him… but Frankie never let you go.
“No.”
That was his response to the break up. He didn’t mean it in a possessive way, in the way of ‘you are never allowed to leave me’ but in the way of ‘I know what you’re doing, and I won’t allow it.’
Since then he’d made you feel like it was his pleasure to care for you, that it was something he enjoyed, something he’d do whether or not you were disabled.
Dum-dum, dum-doo-dum, dooby-doo
Dum-dum, dum-doo-dum, dooby-doo
Dum-dum, dum-doo-dum, dooby-doo...
The song fades away, and Frankie pulls you towards the bathroom. “Come on, I got some icey hot patches.”
In the family bathroom, you try to protest. “I don’t need it… I’ll be fine.”
Frankie turns you around, using the open back to access the two pain spots. Your heart clenched, realizing he’d packed icy hot for you in his wallet, just in case…
The relief was damn near immediate.
“There we go.” Once again you are maneuvered, this time to him where he gave your lips a peck.
You frown at him. “But I can’t cover up the patches…”
He looks at you with a question. “So?”
“People will see…”
“Baby…” Frankie grabs your shoulders. “Listen to me. You’re in pain, this is a treatment. Don’t be embarrassed. I got your back, always.”
You knew he did. You smile at him. He always did.
*
Frankie was talking to Ben, Santi, and Alice although that last part was not voluntary. You were over by the snacks talking to Will’s new wife, Lorelei, and he was waiting for a chance to go rejoin you… but you two seemed to be getting on so well. It was nice when their partners got along; no one liked Alice, and it made an issue.
“Well, they have back pain.” Ben starts explaining why your neck and back hurt all the time, which snapped Frankie back to reality.
“Hm?” He turns back to his friends (and Alice.)
Alice speaks quick to deflect, “It’s nothing! Just saying she looks very pretty with those shoes.” She gestures to you.
“They” Santiago correct. “And no, you fucking weren’t, you were being a bitch.”
Frankie’s eyes widened. It takes a lot for Santi to call a woman a bitch; his mother would kill him.
Ben turns to Santi. “Jesus Pope! Relax”
“No!” Pope points at Ben. “Your girlfriend is a bitch and she’s rude to everyone, including you! Everyone sees it but you’re so blind you can’t see you deserve to be treated-!”
“Hey!” Frankie stepped in between his two friends, veins thrumming because he knew she said something about you but there was another matter to deal with. His hands kept the men apart. “We are not doing this at Will’s wedding.” He turned to Alice. “Are you going to tell me what you said?”
Alice hesitated for a moment, then her face settled, dropping the mask of innocence. She is about to stand on her shit. “She- they or whatever, is making a scene at someone else’s wedding. It’s embarrassing to watch.”
He turns to look at Ben as Ben looks at his girlfriend, confused. He’s seeing her for the first time exactly as she is. “Why would you say that… They’re in pain…”
Alice tried to refute that you were just looking for attention.
Frankie turned back to Alice. “Do not. Ever. Speak about my fiance like that. Ever.”
She glares right back. “You can’t tell me what to-”
“Get out.” Ben’s voice from beside Frankie. When she looked shocked, he insisted. “I mean it. We’re fucking done, Alice.”
She took a step forward, and when Benny flinched Santi stepped between them. When he was angry, Santi was a fearful sight.
Alice stormed off. Ben, anxiety over finally breaking up ran off in another direction, Santi taking off after him. Frankie wandered his way back to you.
*
On a long bench outside, you lay on Frankie’s lap while he rubbed your neck. Only a few straggles from the wedding party and those not ready to end the night remained. You watched Will and Lorelei dance their last dance. Santi and Ben danced in the corner.
“What was all that about? Earlier?” You asked, eyes on the others.
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“I thought a fight was about to break out. I tried to keep Lorelei distracted, didn’t want her to see a fight at her wedding.”
Of course you’d noticed. You always did.
Frankie sighed. “Alice said something shitty, Ben decided it was his last straw.”
“OOOHHHH! That’s why Santi and Benny are finally dancing together. Did you stop the fight?”
Frankie thought back. Usually, he was the peacemaker. But he wasn’t sure he was the calmest person in the room that moment. Definitely calmer than Santi and his anger issues though.
“We got it figured out. I think she’s gone now.”
He rubbed your neck, getting right at that spot right where your scalp ended.
“Thank you for taking care of me, baby.”
“Always gonna take care of you. Always.”
THANKS FOR READING ILYYYY
So happy with so many great submissions to my event!
and thank yall so much for all the support while i struggle with my anxiety. it has not been easy <3
Please consider reblogging to support artists and writers
tagging usually plus thos whove expressed chronic neck/back pain to me as well. I suffer from it pretty bad so this was near and dear to me.
@my-secret-shame @missdictatorme @sunshineispunk @pedge-page @miraclesabound @clawdee @max--phillips @kewwrites
appriciate y'all. Wen to the doctor, got back on anti anxiety and anti depressants. Hopefully will be feeling better soon.
Other piece written for event is Joel x deaf!reader
41 notes
·
View notes
Photo
obi-wan christ almighty, he’s going to fucking kill you
25K notes
·
View notes
Text
a welcomed distraction
obi-wan kenobi x fem!reader
word count: 9.8k (i have no idea how)
warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (oral f receiving, mxf intercourse, general sexual content) mentions of death, reader has deceased family so mentions of dead parents/siblings only briefly
a/n: sorry this is fucking LONG i dont even know why because there is hardly a plot but i tried. sorry but reader calls him master kenobi so thats hot? it’s fluff throughout tho bc CMONNNN ITS KENOBI HES SWEET AS. can’t believe the show is ending tomorrow i am so sad. manifest another season! okay bye!!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“You came all this way for me?” You smile at your former classmate turned Jedi council member, and he is just as gorgeous as you remember him. “I’m honoured.”
“You haven’t changed a bit.” Obi-Wan Kenobi bows slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. It was protocol, now that you had taken your rightful place on the throne of your home planet, but with the history you shared with the man in front of you, you quickly brushed off the gesture and came towards him. Pulling him into you, your arms wrapped around his significantly large frame. The last time you saw him, he was a scrawny padawan training under Qui-Gon, and had that ridiculous braid down his face, but seeing him now, you hadn’t realised how much you actually liked it.
Keep reading
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
I want a pride helmet now
i do not remember these battalions being in the show….?
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m not tall so tall people enjoy my Astarion thought.
Astarion is short for a typical “male” so just imagine post game where you purposely put things on high shelves.
Sure when your not close he’ll just grab a chair so he won’t admit defeat (prideful fucker).
At first he asks, “Darling, would you mind?”
It’s the third time he finally puts it together. You do this on purpose. On one hand he’s annoyed; on the other he loves when you come help him. You stop whatever your doing for him, and then he thinks of the kisses to the top of his head or cheek you give him.
So he doesn’t say anything. Instead he starts huffing, sulking and pulling out his blood red puppy eyes. Two can play at that game.
But on the occasion you can hear from the other room,
“Bloody hells, Tav!”
And a grin cracks on your face before you drop what your doing to go help him.
#silly shower thoughts#baulders gate astarion#astarion fluff#astarion acunin#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
Musical Detour
Astarion x Bard!Reader
Words: 3000
Synopsis: Imagine that scene in Tangled where they're all dancing n stuff but Tav does the music. Thats pretty much it. FLUFF
A/N: THIS STARTED AS A SMALL CUTE IDEA AND HERE WE ARE OVER 3000 WORDS LATER FUCK. Okay back into the void bye.
You and your party had just arrived at Wyrms Crossing after defeating a used to be immortal and a literal god. Tensions were high as well as the exhaustion that flooded your minds and bodies, but there was an elder brain to be stopped. Refugees surround the lower levels of the city, bickering and groaning from long travels.
“So many people seeking refuge.” Shadowheart mummers.
“All hoping to get into Baldur's Gate, where my father is held. They won’t get the help they need until we save him.” Wyll notes.
“One problem at a time. Why don’t we set up camp? Me, Astarion, Karlach, and Gale will take a look around.” You suggest, trying to keep your tone light.
“Sounds good, be safe.” Shadowheart nods, before leading the others to the area we scouted.
“Well, where are we off to now, oh fearless leader?” Astarion chides.
You sigh, looking around the surroundings overwhelming you. You see a cobble road to your left which leads to multiple buildings with people bustling about. You turn and nod your head towards the road, “This way seems like a good start.”
You start walking down the path where it leads to the main road. Once you reach it there's a line of people waiting in front of a gate. You were about to start maneuvering around them when one of your companions stopped.
“Oh. My. Gods. It’s the Circus of the Last Days! My mum and dad would bring me when I was a kid.” Karlach exclaims, stomping in place for a moment in excitement. “Tav we have to stop in just for a little bit. Please?”
Her excitement brought a smile to your face, and you couldn't help but want to go just for her enjoyment. Who knows what silly mischief your current company will get into going in, it certainly piqued your interest. You looked around Karlach’s large frame to the others behind her with your shoulders shrugged, and a natural smile gracing your face.
You knew just how to convince Astarion into getting into trouble, more than he actually realized after you became official. It wasn't just the effortless smile that seemed to radiate off of you that convinced him, but your eyes grew wide as soon as they met with his.
He sighs, “Fine, but if there's any clowns, you’re on your own.”
Karlach jumps with excitement, which makes your smile widen. Suddenly she grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the entrance. Astarion frowned for just a moment after your face, holding an expression that rivaled the sunshine on his skin, was ripped away.
“No stopping those two once they’re together. They seem to be the only one that can keep up with Karlach’s energy.” Gale comments before following behind them.
Astarion watches a moment longer before jogging up to stand behind you, Karlach taking his spot next to you still holding your wrist. He is still as close to you as he can get, his chest just barely rubbing against the back of your armor. The feeling causes you to turn your head to the side just so with a small smile, always acknowledging his presence.
Your attention gets turned back ahead of you as the line moves up. As you step up you see an elf in some of the most colorful clothes you’ve seen, along with a ghoul dressed up as hideously as the elf.
“Hello, hello, and welcome to the Circus of the Last Days!” He greets enthusiastically.
“Hello, we’d like to enter please.” You say.
“Ah yes! Come and forget your worries! Benji just has to check if you're a vicious murderer first.” He says with a smile. “Benji!
The clownish ghoul stalks up towards the four of you and begins sniffing the air.
“BLOOD. TASTY BLOOD, SO DELICIOUS” It shouts and laughs maniacally.
“Well, I gotta say that's the first. Sorry folks, I'm afraid you cannot enter. Have a nice day!” He dismisses.
After seeing how excited Karlach had gotten, and how her shoulders drooped, you refused to take no for an answer. Even if you could feel Astarion perk up behind you at being turned away, and Gale sighing somewhere behind.
“Oh! Did I forget to mention, I’ve been recently hired! Meet your new bard! And their band of misfits.” You exclaim, gesturing with your arms and showing your violin.
“Oh! No one tells me anything around here. Well, welcome to the family. You’ll want to talk to Ringmaster Lucretious once you head in. Good luck!” He says before moving to open the gate to the circus.
You smile awkwardly towards the strange gatekeeper and continue into the entryway. Once through you could see colorful booths lined up, each with a different character expressively trying to get customers. You slowly walk past each one, taking in every detail you can of each vendor. Clearly they’re swindling. Years of being a bard on the streets had taught you a thing or two about how con artists work, and sometimes having to be one.
“Surprising to see how many people fall for these silly games, just a waste of gold.” Gale comments.
“Common, I want to play at least one game, the point is to have fun!.” Karlach whines.
You reach into your pouch and pull out some gold holding your hand out towards her, “Go crazy Karlach.” you say with a smile.
A fiery, playful grin adorns her face, “Thank you!” She grabs the gold from your hand and quickly brings you into a bone crushing hug before racing off.
You, Astarion, and Gale continue walking, checking out the rest of the booths. As you venture deeper into the circus you start to hear music. It sounds like a few people playing together playing a familiar song. One you know by heart. You couldn't help but follow the music, your pace increasing.
“Something catch your attention, my dear?” Astarion asks behind you, but it doesn't quite register in your head and you continue walking.
You round a wide corner to see a little band playing just a few shallow steps down. There's a gnome holding a strong steady beat, while a drow plays strums on a lute. Alongside them was an elf carrying the main melody on their flute. The music begins to take you, the beat drumming in your chest, becoming your new heartbeat. The rhythm of drow’s strumming makes it feel as if you could float away with its voice. You tracked the elfs movements as he played the main part of the song. He’s floating around the crowd, trying to keep them engaged.
You close your eyes for a brief moment, really listening to the flute. The key they’re playing the song in, each particular note to the beloved melody they play. Slowly you grab your violin strapped to your back with its bow. You can hear the notes in your head, and you know just the right moment to jump into the song.
“Everything alright?” Gale asks, but once again the question falls upon deaf ears.
The three musicians look at eachother, and the tension and volume of the music increase. It’s about to happen, and your eyes coles once more. The main part is coming up and that's when you’ll jump in. You keep your eyes closed counting to drumming that took over your heartbeat.
1
2
And
You leap down the 3 shallow steps to be on the same level as the other musicians starting to harmonize with the flute. Your eyes were closed, lost in the melodies the four of you create. Your body moved with the music stepping, skipping, turning in whichever way the music desired it to.
People nearby cheered, some throwing gold at you and the three others. Eventually the cheering turned into a gathering of dancing and laughing. Random circus patrons and even workers stop to watch your merry band. The laughter made your eyes open to see wide smiles surround you. Couples and children dance around you causing a wide smile to shine on your face.
Meanwhile Astarion and Gale stood right where you left them staring at the scene before them. Astarion shifts his weight onto one leg, and his arms cross. He tilts his head to the side as he watches you, and swears your smile blinds him momentarily. Without realizing it the corners of his mouth curl up as you start to interact with the crowd. You crouch down in front of a small human child and poke them lightly with the tip of your bow during a small break. The child giggled, hands coming out to try and catch your bow but you pull away with a twirl and begin to play once again.
“Always up to something.” Gale smiles, his body relaxing.
“You mean always causing a scene? Then yes, they’re quite good at that.” Though the words seem a tad harsh, there's no sense of malice in them. That soft smile of his refusing to leave.
After another twirl you stop a moment, out of breath but refusing to stop playing. You look over towards your companions and see them looking at the scene unfolding. Only Astarion was staring straight at you. You stare into his blood red orbs the best you can from the distance between you. Even though you’re already breathless it feels as if he took your breath away, and not the performing. Warmth spread through your body from his gaze making you feel both giddy and shy.
You force yourself to turn away from Astarion to look at the ensemble beginning to end the song. The drum slows, the rest following its beat as the flute dies off. You begin to improv with the strums of the lute as the drum slowly fades. You lock eyes with the drow ready to finally finish the song. They strum the last chord, as you play the last few notes while slowly bowing. You draw the last note out and stop, bowed over in a small lunge-like stance and your chest heaving.
The crowd erupted into cheers, and shouts. Gold clattered onto the stone beneath your feet, which made you stand to full height. Everyone around you had wide smiles, applauding you and the others for the show. You walk over to talk to the other musicians, and help them pick up the gold.
“Did you know they could play like that?” Gale asked, one hand holding his chin clearly amused.
“I-I had no idea.” He said in disbelief.
They both knew you could play, have even heard you practice no matter how hard you tried to hide it. But they had no idea how well the practice had really paid off. They had no idea how well you actually perform in front of people. Astarion briefly wondered how your name wasn’t well known for your talents.
You turn away and leave the group of musicians behind you, violin packed on your back, and head towards your companions. About half way there the small child you poked ran up and tugged on your pant leg. You crouch down to see they have a few small wildflowers in their small fist held out towards you.
“Thank you! These are beautiful.” The child lights up at your words and runs back towards their parent. You stand back up and continue to walk back towards your friends. You look down at the flowers and pick one to put behind your ear.
You stop in front of Astarion and Gale, still too preoccupied with the flowers to see their astonished faces. Once you were satisfied you looked up at them, and you can’t tell if the warmth you’re feeling is embarrassment or residual from all the dancing.
“That was amazing!” Gale exclaims, his smile wider than you’ve ever seen.
You let out a little huff of a chuckle, a bashful smile adorning your face, “Thanks.”
“So, you do really have talent after all.” Astarion teases, with a wicked smirk to match.
Somehow you can't help but relax from his silly teasing, a genuine smile coming back as you hit his shoulder. “Shut up” you mumble.
“It’s really a shame Karlach missed that. She’ll be sad when she finds out, no doubt.” Gale comments.
“Please, she would’ve burned her heart out from dancing if she were here.” Astarion cracks.
“We should probably find her.” you say trying to change the topic, “The games couldn’t have taken that long. I saw her run off that way” you point.
“Right. Well let’s make sure she hasn’t burned anything, yes?” Gale rhetorically asks as he leads on the way in the direction you pointed towards.
You turn to follow Gale but stop when you don’t feel the vampire's presence behind you, “You coming?” You ask.
You turn around after asking to see if he’d followed but you still see him standing there. His arms were no longer crossed, he had one hand on his hip that was jutted out and the other resting at his side. His eyes were still trained on you almost as if you had put him in a trance. He finally made eye contact, and that subtle smile that naturally came to him when looking at you grew.
Astarion started making his way to you, never once looking away from your widened eyes. You couldn’t look away from him as he stalked towards you, Gale and Karlach forgotten from one endearing gaze from your vampire. You take note of that cute little smile that adorns his face. It’s small, but it's rare to see a smile like this one from him. Once that's genuine.
He stops in front of you, one hand coming to grab your waist to bring you closer. You raise your hands up to his chest, one hand still clutching the other flowers the child gifted you. You’re nearly chest to chest if it weren't for your arms trapped in between you two. The hand on your waist now further towards your back as his arm wraps around you. The other hand comes up to the one holding the flowers, running his fingers gently over the back of your hand.
“You really are something, you know that?” His voice is deep, and low enough for just you to hear.
“That I am, though I do hope you mean it in a good way.” You tease, head cocking to the side.
“Depends on the day, really.” He says with a dumb contemplative look on his face, that smirk never leaving. “But yes, I do mean it in a good way.”
He looks back into your eyes, before the drop down and he leans closer. Both of your eyes close in unison as he gives you a gentle, chase kiss. You unintentionally softly sigh into the kiss, loving the feeling of him close to you. He pulls away and you’re still momentarily dazed, eyes taking a second before opening to see him looking back at you.
A little chuckle escapes him at your dazed expression, “Aren’t you just an adorable little pup.”
You hum at his teasing comment, slowly coming out of the trance he put you in. You look at the flowers still clutched in your hand and grab the small red one with your other hand.
You somehow get closer than you already were, your lips grazing his ear, “Same can be said about you, my love.” you whisper.
As you tease him with your breathy words against his ear, the hand holding the small dainty flower comes up to place it in his luscious locks. Your hand brushes his other gently as you work causing the smallest of gasps to escape his lips, you would’ve missed it if not being so close. You step back after twining the flower into his curls, taking in every detail of his face and your work. The red hue flower perfectly matched the highlights of his eyes as they shine in the sun that bathes the entirety of Baulders Gate.
“Perfect.” You smile. “Anyways where did the other misfits go?” You wonder, starting to turn around looking for them. You start walking in the direction you saw Gale disappear to, leaving Astarion behind.
He stared in bewilderment as you walked off, not quite ready for you to turn the table so fast on him in more than one way. ‘Certainly is something’ he thinks to himself as a small smile of disbelief graces his lips, before walking after you.
BONUS:
You and Astarion were still looking for Gale and Karlach. The circus really wasn't too big, and how does one lose a tall, rambunctious, fiery Tiefling. You were coming up on the last few booths, and still no luck. Did you pass them?
“Where in the hells are they?” You wonder out loud, beginning to get tired of walking in circles.
Astarion was cut off, from what was no doubt a teasing or snarky comment, by running footsteps approaching the both of you. People part as you see Karlach jog towards you, you can tell she’s burning hotter than usual. You brush it off knowing it's from excitement, judging by the smile on her face. You then notice she's holding something rather large in both of her arms.
“Guess what I just got!” She shouts.
She raises a large owlbear blush closer to her chest as to showcase it, arms around its middle as if she's carrying a real owlbear cub. You’re surprised it's not being chared by her excitement.
“He matches the one we got at camp, now he’s got another friend!” She screams in excitement. “That game merchant had no idea what hit him!”
“Oh, no. Please tell me you didn’t set anything on fire.” You groan
“No, but they will need a new strength gage, and hammer.” Gale chides in, strolling behind Karlach. “Quite an impressive display nevertheless.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised. Now I heard something about a terrible clown? Let's see how terrible.” You say with genuine curiosity.
“You’re really gonna drag me to a clown show?” Astarion scoffs.
“Come on! It’ll be fun, well fun to make fun of him.” You say, having to think halfway through after listening to yourself.
Your hands grab one of Astarions before dragging him along with you to the circus stage. He groans and reluctantly lets you lead him away. The other two follow behind you, Karlach distracted with her new plush and Gale wondering how he ended up with such fools.
#astarion fluff#astarion x reader#astarion acunin#bg3 astarion#baldurs gate 3#baulders gate astarion#baulders gate 3#baulders gate fanfiction
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
Like she’s part of the reason he is where he is. The reason he lost someone. (TRYING NOT TO SPOIL)
Y’all think Darth Vader (Aniboy) will recognize Bariss and if so what should he do?
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Y’all think Darth Vader (Aniboy) will recognize Bariss and if so what should he do?
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
When you read a fic for smut and it turns out to be well written with a good plot.
190K notes
·
View notes
Text
Robe
Dieter Bravo x GN! Reader
Words: 900
Summary: You sleep in Dieters robe while he's away. That's it.
Warnings: 18+, TW DRUGS, minor spiciness, OOC Dieter? IDk its been a min but I had this idea for a while.
Dieter arrives back at his luxurious condo finally happy to be home after being away longer than he would’ve liked. Filming this last project was a hassle, working with people he never wanted to work with again. The whole time he was just thinking about getting back home, with his favorite whiskey always on stock. He sees his favorite bong sitting on the counter with a half a bowl ready to be smoked. He smiles knowing you are probably curled up somewhere with all the lights in the place off. He takes a small hit wanting to relax after the chaos of traveling. He lets out the smoke with a hefty breath before setting on finding you.
He slowly wanders to his room, opening the door as quietly as he can before closing it again. When he turns around he can see a lump under the sheets, your head barely poking out from the blankets and pillows. You start stirring awake reluctantly, Dieter watches you move under the sheets. Your eyes slowly open before drooping back closed a couple of times.
“How’s my sleeping beauty?” He asks with a smile, both humor and adoration coating his words.
Your head perks up at his voice, but you don’t dare move from the warmth of the covers. They fall slightly at the movement, where familiar green velvety fabric peeks out. He realizes it's his robe, his favorite one in fact. Pride and adoration for you rises in his chest, along with a small wave of arousal. He smirks looking straight at you, almost as if he can see right through you. It sends a small shiver through you despite the heat trapped under the covers.
“Whatcha wearing under there babe?” He teases.
You know he knows exactly what adorns your body even if just slivers of his robe show over the covers. A wave of embarrassment washes over you, your body heating up a little more.
“I might’ve slept with your robe while you were gone.” You say quietly looking away from him.
Dieter chuckled as he dropped his bag to the ground near the bedroom door. He couldn’t help but gravitate towards the bed where you're curled up in his fluffy robe, hugging his pillow tight to your chest.
He plops down on the bed leaning over towards you reaching for the pillow you’re clutching tightly to your chest. You pout as he pulls the pillow out of your grip, tossing it back to his side of the bed. He then removes his jeans and lays down beside you replacing the pillow with himself, his arms pulling you closer as he nuzzles your chest. Your arms encircle his head pulling him as close as possible, hand tangling in his messy hair. His arms clutch your waist tight as if you would disappear from his grasp. You both close your eyes and sigh at the feeling of being in each other’s arms again.
As he sighs he finally realizes his breath hits bare skin. When he opens his eyes he pulls his head back a little bit to see the robe must’ve opened in your sleep a bit. Your chest is barely covered, your skin teasingly on show.
“Are you wearing anything under this?” He asks, not expecting such a treat to come home to.
You shy away a little bit digging your head into your own pillow, “It got too warm.” you mumble.
“God, you’re killing me.” He groans before slipping his hand under the cheek pressed against the pillow bringing you into a searing kiss.
You make a small noise of surprise before relaxing into him. You move a hand down to his waist pulling him close and grabbing his shirt tightly as if he’d disappear. His other hand moves down to grab your thigh bringing it over his hip, slotting his leg in between yours. The kiss begins to soften and slow, his hand that was on your thigh rubbing your back now.
He pulls away, and presses your foreheads together, not ready to be further than where he is now.
“If I wasn’t so jet lagged, you wouldn’t be able to walk right for a week.” He grumbles
You laugh, louder than expected considering you had just woken up. Dieter can't help some small giggles escaping himself. You pull back to look down at him, his hair is disheveled now by your hands. He already seems more relaxed than when he first walked in.
“Well you’d have to wait anyways. You did interrupt my nap.” You tease.
“My apologies, your highness.” He smiles, bowing his head slightly.
“You need rest anyways.” You sigh, the sleepiness still evident.
Your arm around his waist comes up to wrap around his neck, your hand sliding into his curls massaging his scalp. Dieter sighs at your touch and decides to take another glance at you before he drifts off.
His chest swells seeing your eyes closed, a small smile playing on your lips. He feels your breathing slow, body completely relaxed and tangled against him. His eyes close once more, he takes a deep breath helping his body melt against you further.
It doesn't take long for your warmth to lull him to sleep. Your noses are nuzzled against each other, breathing each other in. Both of you safe and warm in the comfort of your home, your bed, and each other.
#pedro pascal#dieter bravo x reader#dieter x reader#dieter bravo#the bubble#the bubble fanfiction#dieter bravo fluff#pedro character fic#pedro pascal fanfiction
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dune Sea [d.d.]
Summary: You ride a speeder bike for the first time, and the desert gets boring very quickly.
A/n: I almost lost this being lazy so I hope its worth the mini heart attack.
Cw: touch starved din, pet names, mando’a, fluffy, but also kinda suggestive, the helmet stays on, size difference kink(reader is considered small but only in height), reader is picked up, stripping, sappy din. I probably missed something its 1am.
Your first time on a speeder bike comes pretty early in your travels, and you’re very very excited to get to zip through the desert on something that’s much faster than by foot.
What you don’t expect is just how much even having your hands on his waist while you race through the dunes does to him.
It’s entirely platonic, reasonable even, but the second his body feels your arms settles on his sides barely circling his waist, it’s like he’s being seared by the twin suns. His hairs stand on edge as goosebumps flood his skin, and suddenly his skin feels flush and cold all at the same time.
He’s never been more thankful to hide behind the shield of his helmet, or surely you’d see the rose tinted pigment of his cheeks and the flutter of his eyes when your back tires and you lay your cheek to his back.
The wind rushes over your skin, and disguises the shutter the rushes through his muscles. You’re so small, so helpless, and dependent on him to keep you safe, and no matter how grumpy or silent he is you blabber away with whatever knowledge or story you’re sharing but he can’t seem to ask you to stop. Or kick you off his ship. Or even dare to leave you and the child alone for longer than a few days.
It hurts him. He’s attached. He wondered if keeping the kid around would change his outlook, and his decision making, and of course it did. The safety of a child is something that would change the actions of a renowned bounty hunter, but he didn’t expect it to change how he felt about you.
Each time you climb a dune your hands tighten on his flight suit, and when you descend your thighs squeeze together securing yourself tighter to him so you don’t face plant into the blunt metal on his back.
For the first hour he does his best to stave off his urges, but as he gets more comfortable with having you so close, more comfortable with the route and feel of this particular speeders control, he grows more brave.
First, he lets one hand fall from the throttle, letting his other steer confidently, and it settles on his hip, brushing against your knee. If you notice or react, he isn’t able to tell, but the connection is enough to cause his cock to twitch against his leg. He’d be lying if he wasn’t turned on by being this close to you from the get go.
Then, after a while of that, everytime your legs tighten around him he reaches down and runs his gloved hand down the back of your calf, caressing it in a soothing and gentle gesture. Your muscles flex into the surprise but welcome embrace, and you smother a smile into his cape.
For a moment he thinks he can feel your heart pounding against the armor, strong and steady if not a bit faster than he’d expect, but he’s embarrassed to realize it’s his own. Maker, he’s so pathetic.
Finally, he just leave his hand there, occasionally switching to your other leg when he needs to steer but never leaving you unconnected for long.
As the twin suns set over the sandy hills of Mos Pelgo, you pull into town. Wordlessly the bike is parked and turned off, you both sit for a moment, what is only a single breath feels like a lifetime as his other hand reaches to touch you at the same time.
Privately and both without knowing it, you share the same sad smile, wondering what’s to come of this, and weighing the chance of it never happening again against the risks of rejection.
“Cyare.” You feel the rumble of his chest against your cheek, the deep guttural tone of his voice in his native tongue, you’ve only heard him speak it a few times but the feeling in your chest is only warmer this time.
You both start your sentence at the same time, but rather colliding in the air, they compliment each other, harmonizing in the opposite ways that your cadences go when breaking ice, yours high his low.
Your blush deepens, “You first.” Keeping still you try and calm the rapid beating of your heart and the electricity passing through his touch.
“I’m going to find Marshall Cobb, he should be able to find board.” His thumb is still mindlessly sliding over your smooth skin, “Will you stay with the bike?”
You look through the one main strip of land between a dozen or so buildings, “I don’t think there’s many places to look.” You laugh, half surprised no one has welcomed you with a blaster aimed at you yet.
“What we’re you going to say?” He muses, clearly registering the playfulness in your voice as a good thing. He peers over his shoulder and as you look up towards his face you see a hint of his skin tone where the helmet rests on his face, and you blush and smother your face further into the sandy warmth of his cape.
“That we…” You hesitate for an audible moment, your brain shuffling through a multitude of lies and half truths, “ought to take speeder bikes more often.” There. The answer is the truth, and it’s casual but you think it’s clear enough to provoke an honest response from him.
His hands still, and you hold your breath, to your relief he squeezes the flesh tenderly. “We will.” His voice is hotter than the setting sunset.
Your back straightens with recognition, “I’ll stay with the bike.”
He doesn’t have to see your face to hear your smile, and he hoped you could hear his teasing smirk, “I’ll be quick.” Mando dismounts the bike and stands tall over you, as you turn your knees to face him a gloved hand pinches your chin gently but firmly, locking your eyes together. “Don't go too far.”
You smile sweetly, already daydreaming and clenching your thighs together, “I couldn't bear it.” . You straighten your leg from underneath your robe in a dramatic stretch, exposing it to the dimming desert air tauntingly. Massaging your fingers into the tops of your thighs, exposing the thin white strap of your underwear curving over your hipbone.
His mouth is dry, like he’d crawled through the desert towing a hefty bounty. The unmistakable tug in the pit of his stomach of need stirred his tired muscles into a fever, his travel-worn mind only thinking about how to he's going to break you over his cock in perhaps just a few hours. But as his eyes drift to the dark knowing smirk calling to him, begging him to come play.
“Mando! I was beginning to worry about you.” A handsome older fellow in a bright red sweater emerges from a few buildings down.
Minutes he thought. He would have you somewhere, anywhere where he could hold you, run his hands over your legs, and your chest, into your mouth in the next few minutes or he might collapse.
“We need a room. She's exhausted, heat sickness.” he shouts, barely bother to call over his shoulder or address the strangers concern.
“My home. Four doors down on the left, spare room is to the right of the entrance.” He calls back, this must be a friend of his. “I'll bring you food and leave it on the table when I come home.”
You nudge Mando’s boot with your foot, “Manners.” Half playing but the eagerness is pouring off him in waves, stroking your own need until you might pounce on him using the bike seat as a vault.
“Thank you.” He calls over his shoulder, genuinely, and he utters something you barely make out between the two of you, “Let's hope he’s out late.”
You shiver at the implication, inhibitions diminished. “Heat sickness?”
He shrugs, before bending down to lift you up around his waist. “It's a good reason to do this.”
This close you nuzzle into the gap between his helmet and his shoulder, lips moving against his throat as you kiss over the thin fabric, so thin in fact you can feel his heart drumming steadily.
You're so enamored with everything about him, his scent, his prowess, and his energy mixing with your emotions and this own.
With ease, you're brought through a small modest living room, but you're unable to see much other than the wall rolling by as you're swept through a doorway and set on a thin bedroll. The lights are promptly shut off and you hear a soft sound, and its not until his bare hands are resting on your cheeks that your eyes adjust, placing together a familiar armored chest.
He runs his hands over your body, lightly urging the robes off your shoulders, the fabric spreading open to reveal your modest undershirt. Thin with wear even in the dark you can see the tight bundles of your nipples through your breast band.
“Maker.” He swears, not even disquising the beeline he makes for them, circling and brushing over them with precision you used to fear. “You’re so beautiful. Mesh’la.”
You recognize this word, and as the word endearment clicks in the forefront of your brain you realize just how after each other you always were. Pet names, play fights, lingering fingers on helpful hands, plain as day.
He moves to the hem of your undershirt demanding it off, but you protest, reaching for the front of his armor to unlatch his chest plate.
He stills, keeping his hands out of your way and watching you dismantle is armor around him like you've done it your entire life. The heavy pieces are set aside, accumulating in a disorganized pile in front of the door as he takes them from your hands.
Undressing him, the intimacy of the moment almost overwhelms him, not only the physical demands of the extensive clasps and hidden magnets, but the mental shield that the armor protects him with. Hiding his emotions, his skin, his weaknesses, it was his crutch, his symbol and status, but none of that mattered anymore. Each exploring hand running over the uncovered area drove him wild, feather light but thorough.
You said a silent thank you to whatever sorry soul’s house this was and prey for a sandstorm.
223 notes
·
View notes
Text
i wish you guys lived inside my head the fics in here go crazy
33K notes
·
View notes