#how much small talk do we really need here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days

Text

sparkling juice

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad

“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.

“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.

“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.

“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.

“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.

you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”

“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.

rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.

“wanna try some juice with me baby?”

“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”

you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”

“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”

“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.

“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”

rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.

“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.

“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”

“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”

“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”

“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”

“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”

“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.

“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”

“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”

“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.

“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.

“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.”

you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.

“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.

“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”

“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”

“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.

“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”

“mhm.”

“and we have been dating for over a year now.”

“yes.”

“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.

“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.

“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.

“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.

“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”

“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.

rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.

“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.

“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.

“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..

“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”

“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.”

“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.

“okay.” you say.

rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.

“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.

he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.

you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.

rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.

“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”

“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.

“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.

“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.

“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.

“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”

“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.

he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.

“i think im close.” you say.

“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.

your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.

you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.

rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.

“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.

“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.

-- six months later --

“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen.

“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.

you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.

“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.

rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”

626 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 2 days

Note

Do you have any opinions on modern (post-1970s) movies that you feel capture the essence (in a good way) of Old Movies?

No, unfortunately. That doesn't mean I don't like modern movies or that modern movies aren't good, but modern movies—and here I'm really using modern to mean post-2010, so contemporary movies—have different standards for pacing, characterization, budget, and production that make it harder (or impossible) to capture some of the magic of old movies. Even when modern movies clearly try to emulate that old-movie feeling—I'm thinking of La La Land, The Artist, The Shape of Water, In the Heights—they play the homage too broadly, or they ignore crucial components that make the original films work.

There's kind of too much to go into here without writing a full essay, but essentially, the Old Hollywood system—ugly, failed beast as she was—made some movies simply more accessible to make, due to the ongoing storage of props, sets, master craftsmen, crew, and onscreen talent that could move from one movie to the next without pause. If you needed a dancer, he was already on staff. If you needed a fancy bed, it was already in the warehouse. That kind of longterm storage is invaluable if you want to crank out movies quickly and cheaply because it saves so much time on individual negotiation and sourcing. Modern production companies have to work out individual contracts for every actor on every film; crew members have to negotiate rental contracts and source pieces from scratch; if you need someone with specialist skills, you have to contract them specially at a high rate, which a lot of small companies can't (or won't) budget to do. There's sand in the wheels where there needn't be any. It's wasteful, and costly, but that's the system modern movies are made with.

Which all means that even if the modern movie system wanted to make a classic movie musical just like the old ones, they couldn't, because the talent isn't already there—it hasn't been trained up enough, and there's not that breadth of knowledge you can only get from people who have been allowed to work in the same department in the same place for decades. Movies like La La Land fail, for me, because they present themselves as descendants of Fred Astaire or Busby Berkley movies, while missing the bit where Fred Astaire was a master of his craft. When you watch Fred Astaire dance—or Moira Shearer, or the Nicholas Brothers, or Ann Miller—you are watching a true artist at work, purposely showcased by the studios because they already have them on contract. Modern movies, on the other hand, tend to take people who already have star talent (as actors) and try to convert them into dancers/singers—or they pull dancers/singers off of Broadway, but then they don't have the star power built in. You end up with lackluster musicals where no one truly knows what they're doing, or they do but they're not built up enough by the studios to sell. And that's me discussing just on-screen talent for musicals—there is a huge loss behind the scenes, as well, for all kinds of movies, where roles that would have been filled by union crew who moved continuously from one job to the next have been swapped for freelance labor who live with immense turnover, financial insecurity, and knowledge loss. You could hand me the budget and I could try to make an old movie, but the industry itself has changed so much it's impossible to recapture that charm of steady, niche talent, the amazing possibilities of bonkers set design, and the ability to take a risk on a smaller movie because the other films being produced by the same studio can help balance the budget.

I've talked way, way too much about all of this! Sorry, I just have a lot of thoughts—and the one above is just one of them; the talent loss and storage issues are only facets of a much bigger problem that extends to how we watch movies today, how we market them, what we expect of them, and what's allowed in them. It's a crying shame because the talent is still there, but times change and so does the industry, for better or for worse. (And, just again to clarify, I don't think modern movies are bad—they're just missing a lot of the juice old movies got to play with, even if there's more talent available than ever before.)

#asks #hotvintagethoughts

264 notes · View notes

jordyn14 · 2 days

Note

can you please write jealousy joe??? I would love to see that 😁😁

Pairing: Joe x fem first person

Words: 2,020

Notes: I’m loving these requests, please keep sending them in! I hope you enjoy!! <3

Taglist: @wickedfun9

I reached forwards and grabbed the alcoholic drink I’ve been sipping on periodically while laughing and having a great time with some friends. Like every night after the Bengals first win of the season, Joe, my best friend and her husband, and me all go to our favorite bar in Cincinnati to celebrate the win, and today wasn’t any different.

The bengals first game of the season which was a home game was pretty much a shutout. Joe threw for over 400 yards and threw for 4 touchdowns, 3 of which were to ja’marr chase. It was everything we could’ve hoped for the first game of the season, so in celebration, we all came to this bar in the quieter part of Cincinnati.

We all sat at a small table in the back together while Joes hand rested on my thigh, squeezing and trailing his hand up and down it periodically, which sent shivers down my spine. As I sipped my drink, I got to the very end of it and then set it down on the table. “Alright, I’m going for another drink run. Anyone need anything else?” I asked the 3 other people at the table who were still laughing at something Joe said a few seconds ago.

From next to me, Joe patted my thigh. I looked over to him with a flustered smile on my face, the alcohol somewhat taking an effect. Damn, I was a lightweight. “I’m good, baby, but thank you.” Joe said and leaned over to me and placed a kiss on my cheek. My face flushed red and I looked over to my best friend, Serena, and her husband jonny. I let out a little giggle as Joe slid his hand up my skirt jokingly, knowing how it affected me. Once I contained myself, I cleared my throat and waited until they both said they could use another drink before I walked away.

As I walked away, I could feel Joe’s stare on me the entire time. Ever since we first met at LSU when he transferred, I was totally taken aback by him. The first thing that drew me in were his looks. Those locks that fell onto his forehead and those bright blue eyes. His body wasn’t bad either. What made me stay was his personality. Before I met Joe, I didn’t know a man could be so amazing, inside and out. I mean we’re talking about a nerdy, Lego and SpongeBob loving, funny, kind, thoughtful man. What more could a girl ask for?

When I got to the bar, I found a place to squeeze myself in and placed myself between two people. After a few seconds, the bartender walked over to me so I put in all of our drink orders and started to sing along to the music quietly, wanting the time to pass quicker. “Oh my gosh…is that really you?” A familiar voice asked from next to me. I raised an eyebrow and looked over to the man before my mouth practically dropped open. “Luke? What the hell are you doing here?” I asked in a shocked tone and instantly wrapped my arms around him. The both of us just laughed, shocked to see one another.

Back at LSU, Luke and I used to hang out pretty frequently. It was never anything more than two friends getting together, getting high, or getting drunk-even studying in some rare cases. Our little friend group consisted of me, Luke, anna who was Luke’s girlfriend, and Serena, my best friend. But, since Luke was 2 years older than me, by the time Joe came along Luke had graduated, which means I never got to introduce Joe to him and the friend group kind of broke up and became Serena, me, Joe, Ja’marr chase, and Justin Jefferson.

“Since Anna grew up here, we decided to move back. What are you doing here?” He asked me as we pulled away. “I followed my boyfriend here after college. When I get my drinks you’ll have to come meet him, he transferred right after you left.” I told him. After hesitating for a few seconds, he nodded and flashed me a smile. “Yeah, I definitely will have to meet him. So how have you been? How’s your writing going?” He asked me. “I’m good, writings been good too. I actually published my second book a few weeks ago. What about you? How has your business major been going?” I asked him with laugh, knowing back in college he had no idea what to do with it. “I actually didn’t do anything with it. I’m a police officer how. I love that I found out what I was passionate about after I spent thousands of dollars on college.” He laughed. I laughed and grabbed the drinks the bartender set down in front of me as was about to invite Luke over to our table so Joe could meet him.

All of a sudden, I felt a hand slide around my waist and looked to the side to see Joe practically hovering over me and Luke, who was shorter than me. I couldn’t help but notice the angry expression on Joe’s face and how he was clenching his jaw. I was about to open my mouth to introduce them but Joe spoke right over me. “Hey, I’m Joe, Her boyfriend. And you are?” Joe said abruptly, giving Luke a fake smile in the process. I looked up to Joe with a glare on my face at his rudeness and was about to say something yet again when Luke talked first. “Hey, Luke. It’s good to meet you, man.” Luke said and held out his hand for Joe to shake it.

Joe just glared down at his hand and then looked right back up at his face, not shaking his hand. “Excuse us, Luke. It was great seeing you again.” I said. I flashed Luke a smile before grabbing onto Joe’s arm and tried to pull him with me, but he wouldn’t budge. Why did he have to be so strong? I could feel his arm muscles as I gripped onto his bicep before I said, “Joe?” In a somewhat pissed off tone. I saw Joe look Luke up and down before grabbing two drinks in his hand while I grabbed the other one and started walking with me.

I scoffed a little bit and stopped walking before we got to the table so Serena and Jonny couldn’t hear us. I turned to face Joe as we both set our drinks on the nearest table. Joe was just looking down at me with a pissed look on his face. “What the hell was that, Joe?” I asked him. Joe looked like I was the stupid one before he gestured over to Luke and said, “What the hell was that?” I looked at him like I was missing something. What was his fucking deal? “Me catching up with a friend from LSU and you being a fucking dick before I was able to introduce the two of you, that’s what it’s called, Joe.” I said.

Joe just looked me up and down while biting his lip slightly and said, “I don’t care what it’s called. I don’t like the way he was looking at you. I’m your fucking boyfriend, not him.” I let out a small laugh and shook my head, taken aback. “What, do you not trust me now or something? When have I ever given you a reason to not trust me.” I practically spat at him, getting even more annoyed as we talked. Never in our time as a couple have I ever been unfaithful. “It’s him that I don’t trust. If you haven’t noticed, you’re the most gorgeous girl in this entire bar.” Joe said.

What reason would he have for not trusting Luke? Could he not see by the way I reacted that we were only friends who haven’t seen each other in a while? And anyways, he overreacted before he even got the whole story. I couldn’t help but laugh at him a little bit. “He has a fucking girlfriend, Joe. Why are you so jealous?” I asked him. “It doesn’t matter that he has a fucking girlfriend,” Joe said quickly and looked over at Luke before he looked even more pissed and gestured angrily over to him, “I mean look at the way he’s staring at your fucking ass right now.”

Without even looking at Luke, I scoffed while shaking my head at him and said, “you’re unreal.” Joe squinted down at me. “So now I’m not allowed to be pissed when a random man is drooling all over you?” He asked me. I put my hands on the top of my head for a few seconds before letting them slide off, shocked at how he was acting. “You are blowing this way out of proportion, Joseph. We were friends back at LSU.” I said. “Why, because I don’t want a man who used to be your friend flirting with my girlfriend and staring at her ass? You’re mine.” Joe said.

“Exactly, I’m yours. I’m yours and you are mine, so who the fuck cares that someone I was friends with a few years ago was flirting with me?” I asked him. Joe looked over in the direction of our table and grabbed my arm gently and moved us a few feet away. While he was moving me, I looked back at the table to see Serena and Jonny staring at us, knowing something was going on.

When we stopped, Joe looked right into my eyes. For the first time during this entire conversation, my face flushed red and I could feel myself getting turned on slightly. Why was this so hot right now? “I do. I care. I am the only one that should be flirting and looking at you like that.” Joe said. I tried my hardest to hide my smile because despite how much I was annoyed with him and his jealousy, he was really fucking hot.

After a few seconds, I couldn’t hide it any more and smiled up at him. Joe glared at me in confusion while butterflies flew around in my stomach. “You’re honestly pretty freaking hot when you’re jealous.” I said, my face heating up a little bit from the dirty thoughts in my head as I admired Joe and his pissed off state. Joe started to smirk a little bit but when he realize what he was doing, he cleared his throat and the smirk was gone just like that. “It’s not funny. Do you know how much I wanted to smash his fucking face into that bar?” Joe asked me. With a little glare, I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge. So, I tried to go closer to him, but all he did was back up.

I stopped moving and then stuck out my bottom lip jokingly, knowing one of his weaknesses was when I looked sad. With an annoyed look on his face, he wrapped his arms around my waist, hating the effect I had on him. We both pulled each other in closer so I leaned forwards and kissed Joe’s lips. Not expecting it at first, Joe pulled back slightly and gazed into my eyes before smashing his lips against mine. Joe breathed in the kiss as I arched my back. Joe kissed me back hard and right before we pulled away, Joe bit my bottom lip gently. “Was he watching that?” I breathed out with a smile. Joe looked up at the bar past my head and then nodded with a small smile. “Good.” I said and turned around to look in the direction of the bar with our arms still around each other. My eyes caught Luke’s who immediately looked away with an embarrassed, awkward, and nervous look on his face. I looked away and to Joe while running my fingers through his hair. “Let him be the jealous one, I’m not going anywhere Joey. Ever.” I said.

157 notes · View notes

strangersmunsons · 2 days

Text

read 'em and weep #5

you're acting weird. Eddie decides to do something about it.

Chapter 5 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 4 -> Here!

Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, mix of fluff & angst, romantic gestures, idiots in love, communication breakthrough, shy babies working out some kinks. No mention of reader's appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: Discussion of Eddie's past, mentions of poverty, drug use, allusion to violence. Mentions of food & eating. Word Count: 4.5k sometimes I think I make him too soft in this series, but I can't help myself. are you guys tired of lovesick!eddie yet???

Eddie wakes up late on Sunday — it’s well after noon when he rises from bed with a sticky yawn in his throat and sleep in his eyes. In his rumpled t-shirt and boxers, hair a tangled mess, he pads down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Wayne is dropping scoops of pancake batter into a sizzling pan on the stove.

“Mornin’, Ed.”

“G’morning,” Eddie grunts back. He plops into one of the seats at the tiny table, rubbing his eyes.

“Sleep okay?”

“Like a rock.”

Wayne nods approvingly. “Figured as much. I could hear ya from the living room.”

Eddie scrunches his face in annoyance. “You could not.”

His uncle smiles, mirth buried in his whiskers.

“Well, you deserve a good night’s sleep. You’re always out and about these days.”

Wayne flips the last pancake, lets it cook, then adds it to the stack he’s already piled up. He sets the plate of cakes and two cups of coffee onto the table, and takes a seat across from his nephew.

They begin to eat in silence. That’s not unusual, as Eddie has a tendency to inhale his food — the boy’s got a garbage disposal for a stomach — but he’s not scarfing it down the way he normally does. Instead, he pushes his breakfast around his plate in between taking small bites, looking moody.

Wayne pauses in between sips of coffee, #1 Uncle mug hovering halfway to his lips.

“Everything okay?”

“Uh…I think so. Yeah.”

Wayne raises an eyebrow skeptically at him. “You sound like you’re not sure.”

Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat, frowning at his pancakes.

He doesn’t want to push, lest Eddie shut him down completely, but Wayne’s curious. Sue him.

“Somethin’ happen with your girl last night?”

Eddie blushes and sits back in his seat, voice pained. “Wayne —”

“We don’t have to get all touchy-feely. It’s just a question,” he tells him sternly. “And believe it or not, kiddo, I have known a woman or two in my lifetime. I can give you advice if you need it, y’know. I’m not a eunuch.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Gross, man.”

Wayne laughs, a gruff chuckle that reverberates around the small kitchen. Eddie smiles in spite of himself.

“So what’s the problem?”

Eddie drums a nervous rhythm against the table with his fingers, naked without their bulky rings. “I don’t know, really. She was just kinda weird yesterday.” He pauses for a moment, searching for the right word. “Distant.”

Wayne listens intently, fist tucked under his chin. “Distant how?”

Eddie fills his cheeks with air, and lets it out in a long, slow exhale. “Well, she was fine in the morning, but last night she was really quiet. Especially when we were alone, which I don’t understand.” If you’d been nervous to spend time with his friends, then he’d get it, but you seemed fine at Benny’s. It was before and after, when you were by yourselves, which strikes him as odd.

He gestures helplessly with his hands, words flowing faster now, confusion leaking into every syllable. “She’s usually really excited when she sees me. All happy and stuff, y’know? And we always talk a lot, but she hardly said a word to me. And at first I thought she just had a tough day at work, but then —” Eddie stops abruptly, clamping his mouth shut. I didn’t get hardly any kisses, he finishes miserably in his head.

Rather than verbalize the thought for Wayne, he just throws his arms up, letting his flailing limbs speak for themselves.

Wayne gives him a solemn nod, determined to keep his expression neutral. If he reacts too strongly either way, then Eddie might not feel so inclined to discuss his love life with him again. Ever the sensible one, he asks, “Did she have a tough day at work?”

Eddie looks sheepish. “That’s what she said,” he admits reluctantly.

“But you don’t believe her?”

Eddie’s bottom lip juts out petulantly. “It just didn’t feel like she wanted to be around me.” His face falls, and his voice becomes softer, the hurt more pronounced. “Like she couldn’t wait to get away.”

Wayne heaves a sigh, and thinks it over. “Personally, I think you’re readin’ too much into it,” he finally responds. “If she tells you she had a hard day, then she probably did.” He rubs his stubbly chin thoughtfully. “Although, you might be onto something there….”

Eddie’s face crinkles in despair, mouth falling open.

“Now, hang on,” Wayne adds hastily, seeing his kicked-puppy look. “I just mean to say, that you’ve been spendin’ an awful lot of time together, right? And you haven’t really known each other that long, but you’ve hardly gone a day this summer without seeing her. Maybe she’s runnin’ out of things to say to you,” he jokes.

Eddie clicks his tongue in distaste. “C’mon,” he complains.

“She might just need a little space, is all I’m sayin’.” The older man shrugs. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you, or that she doesn’t wanna be around you. Just give her some breathing room. And then, in a few days, if you still feel like things are off, talk to her about it.”

Eddie squints at him. “Can I just do that?”

Wayne shakes his head in disbelief. “Boy, I swear,” he mumbles.

After breakfast, Eddie mulls over what his uncle told him. Now, he’s the first to admit that he doesn’t really know how to be a boyfriend, but goddamn it, he’s trying.

Is that his problem? Is he trying too hard?

Okay, fine, he’s a bit of a smother. But it’s difficult for him not to be; he’s spent far too long navigating life in this thankless town alone. Now that he’s finally found you, he can scarcely bring himself to let go, even for a second.

“Breathing room,” he mutters to himself. Fine. No biggie. He can deal with that.

For the next few days, Eddie resists the temptation to call you first, or visit you unannounced at work, which is a task that would be much easier to accomplish if you were giving him literally anything in return.

But you haven’t called. Not for an evening chat, which was customary on days he didn’t stop by the library. Not to check up on him, not to find out where he’s been, or why he hasn’t visited…it’s like nothing is out of the ordinary.

Evidently, you’re not missing him at all.

The phone has only rung twice so far this week. Once it was Henderson, and the other one was a telemarketer that he promptly hung up on. His ego took a huge hit every time he came home and asked, “Any calls for me?” and had to see Wayne shake his head no.

Disappointed, and overwhelmed by a creeping sense of dread, Eddie concludes that your radio silence could mean one of two things: either you just don’t feel the need to be around him as much as he does you, or he did something to upset you.

He can’t figure out which is worse. The internal debate plagues him morning and night as the days keep rolling by.

Up until now, you haven’t seemed to mind his clinginess. If anything you were nearly always overjoyed to see him — so much so that it startled him, and he often found himself looking back over his shoulder, to see if there was someone else standing behind him that you were smiling at instead. Has the novelty of Eddie Munson worn off so quickly? It didn’t seem like you, so kind and attentive towards him, but who was he to expect you to want to be with him twenty-four/seven?

Unless it was something else entirely, something he had done that didn’t sit right with you, that was causing this. He tries to think of what he could possibly said or did that may have offended you, but he keeps coming up empty.

And then, in the midst of his warring thoughts, inspiration strikes.

“Uhhh…hey, Wayne?”

Wayne calls back from his spot on the couch, where he’s immersed in the latest episode of The Joy of Painting. “Yeah?”

Eddie shuffles into the living room, lips pursed. He tries to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. “Would it be…ill-advised…to show up unannounced at her house with a grand romantic gesture?”

Wayne stares at him. “You know I said space, right?”

Eddie starts packing up a brown paper grocery bag with everything he thinks he’ll need, while Wayne hovers in the kitchen, watching him with his arms crossed. He’s simultaneously disapproving and amused.

“So you’re just gonna ignore my advice, huh?”

“Wayne,” Eddie sighs, “I appreciate your sage words of wisdom, I really do. But unfortunately, I am not a patient man. I need resolution now, or else I’ll die.” He pulls out another snack from a cupboard and stows it away in the bag, alongside the sandwiches he made and some other morsels scrounged up from the kitchen. He’ll get your favorite drink, too, when he stops for flowers at the gas station —

“You? Impatient? Naw.”

“Ha, ha,” Eddie replies sarcastically.

Wayne shakes his head. “I sure hope this works out for you.”

Eddie hesitates. “I mean….” Suddenly insecure, he looks over at Wayne, anguished expression on his face. “Is it a completely horrible idea?”

Wayne softens immediately, and silently curses himself for discouraging him. “No. No, I don’t mean that. I’m actually…well, I’m mighty proud to see you treatin’ a lady so well.” Eddie turns scarlet, grimacing at the praise, and Wayne continues. “I’m just worried you might overwhelm her, with…how well you’re treatin’ her.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his hair. “I just…don’t like the way things feel right now. And I don’t wanna make the mistake of ignoring it, hoping it’ll go away, and have things get worse.”

There’s a pang in Wayne’s heart. He really is a good kid, isn’t he? “Aw, hell, Ed. If this feels like it’s the right thing for you to do, then I say do it.”

When Eddie finally arrives at your house, the nerves have really kicked in. He understands that this is kind of a gamble, but subtlety has never been his forte. Slinging his acoustic guitar over his back, clutching the grocery bag in one fist and a small bouquet of dyed carnations in the other, he manages to rap lightly on the front door without dropping anything.

Eddie holds his breath as the seconds tick by, heart thumping in his chest.

Finally, the door swings open slowly, revealing your figure and Eddie immediately feels warm, in spite of the cool air that seeps out from the house. You look startled to see him, even more so when your eyes drop down to the flowers in his hand, mouth popping open in surprise.

“Hi,” he greets you nervously. “Uh, I hope it’s okay that I’m here, I-I know I didn’t call you or anything first. But, um, it’s a nice day out, so I thought we could have a picnic?” It comes out like a question. He jostles the grocery bag, and you can hear the contents shift around inside. “If you’re not busy or anything. And these, um, are for you.” He thrusts the flowers forward, palm sweating against their plastic wrapping.

You stand there in silence, not saying or taking anything, just gaping at him. Eddie’s stomach drops. And he’s totally unprepared for what happens next.

Your face crumples, and you burst into tears.

“Oh, Jesus.” Eddie sets everything down onto the ground and lurches forward, arms outstretched to touch you, but he hesitates before making contact, his hands fluttering around your figure uncertainly. “I — sweetheart — what?” he stutters, entirely out of his element.

“Sorry!” you sob, clapping your hands over your mouth. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize,” he says automatically, completely bewildered. His hands finally come down to rest on your shoulders, and he leans closer to you, like maybe proximity will cure whatever this is. “Is something wrong?” He winces, and shakes his head. “Sorry, that’s stupid — what’s wrong?”

You sniffle in response, fat tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.

Watching you tremble with emotion breaks his heart, and it’s stronger than his panic at being unexpectedly confronted by a crying woman. “Oh, baby,” he says tenderly, wrapping his arms around you fully and pulling you in close. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” you repeat in a watery voice, slightly muffled by you pressing your face into his shirt. “You’re just…you’re so sweet, Eddie. That’s all.”

“You don’t have to say sorry for crying,” he says, chuckling breathlessly. “Although I was kind of aiming for a smile with all this, not tears.” He pats your back gently, and moves his lips to your ear. “It’s been a while. I was missing you.”

You shudder. “I missed you, too.” You let out a choked laugh, and pull back a little, dabbing at your eyes. You audibly try and swallow the lump in your throat. “This isn’t how I usually greet company, I promise.”

In the small, sunny backyard, Eddie lays out a faded gingham tablecloth onto the grass. It’s tattered at the edges and bears quite a number of stubborn stains, maybe not great for their tiny kitchen anymore, but perfect for an outdoor blanket. While he sets up his little surprise date, doling out food and plates and napkins, he steals glances at you, visible through the kitchen window, where you’re arranging your new flowers in a vase. When you come back outside to join him, he doesn’t miss the way you swipe at your eye one last time, trying to rid yourself of the final remnants of your outburst.

He offers you a soft smile, and pats the spot on the ground next to him.

You sink onto the blanket with a sigh, looking tired but pleased to see him nonetheless. And there’s a trace of something else in your eyes, some unknown emotion that he can’t quite put his finger on. You reach gingerly for the sandwich he packed for you — your favorite, you note right away — but Eddie simply watches, wondering if he has to ask or if he should wait for you to explain.

“So, how’re things?” you ask innocently, and take a small bite.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, but he keeps his tone light. “Well, I’m a little concerned, naturally. We gonna talk about what just happened back there?”

You chew slowly, stalling. He waits patiently.

“I wasn’t expecting all this,” you finally say, gesturing around at the spread before you. “It’s…it’s really, really nice of you,” your voice breaks again on the last word, but if you’re threatened by another wave of tears, you don’t succumb.

Eddie shrugs modestly, but remains curious. “It’s no big thing. Just wanted to surprise you,” he says, and hesitates before continuing. “I, uh, haven’t heard from you in a while, so I wasn’t sure if…maybe you were upset with me, or something, I dunno. Like, if I did something wrong.”

Abruptly, you fix your gaze on your lap, but not before Eddie sees them widen in alarm.

He peers closer at you. “Were you upset with me?”

Your blanche. “God, I’m such an asshole,” you mumble, throat tightening again.

Eddie’s thoroughly confused now, and he chuckles uncertainly. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m a little lost here. Why are you calling yourself an asshole?” The idea is absurd; it’s hard for him to even fathom.

You wring your hands nervously, unable to make yourself look at him. “Eddie, I — I’m sorry. That I haven’t been reaching out to you lately.” You struggle with what to say, feeling ashamed, but you force yourself to continue. “But…Marissa — from work, y’know? — she…she told me some stuff about you.”

Eddie’s insides turn to ice.

“Stupid, gossipy stuff,” the words come out in a rush now, like you’re desperate to get the truth out and over with, “most of which I didn’t even really believe, anyway, but I guess I couldn’t help feeling…anxious, after it happened? And I didn’t know how to talk to you about it, so I just…didn’t. I’m so sorry.” You take a deep breath and shake your head, frustrated at your own actions. “And then you come here today with an entire picnic, and flowers, and your guitar, and I feel like the biggest jerk on the planet. I can’t believe myself.”

Eddie falls silent for a moment, his dark eyes big and sad. It’s not what he was expecting, though he supposes he should have been anticipating something like this happening eventually. Gossip about him had improved — or affected him less, at least — when he finished school, but there were still whispers about him amongst the townies, he knew.

“What did she tell you?” he asks dully. “That I’m the spawn of Satan?”

A knot twists in your stomach. “Something like that. Of course I know that’s bullshit.”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. “Oh, yeah? What did she tell you that was so impressive, then?” When you flinch at his words, he cringes inwardly at his own snarkiness, and reminds himself who he’s talking to.

You scratch at a dark spot on the blanket, fidgeting under his stare. “She — she said that you were involved with someone named Chrissy, and the way she mentioned it really freaked me out.”

Upon hearing her name, Eddie’s eyes bulge with panic. Oh shit, oh shit. Low blow from Marissa. Because unlike the far-fetched devil worship accusations, there’s some substance to that rumor, no matter how convoluted the truth became. He starts to mentally scramble for a way to explain, but you continue on before he can speak.

“I guess I just couldn’t stand the thought of you having another girlfriend,” you admit guiltily. “I didn’t wanna find out, because I didn’t think I could take it, if I knew you were seeing someone else.”

That catches him off guard. “Oh, you —” Eddie fumbles with his words, “you thought that I was…dating her?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. When someone tells you ‘ask him about so-and-so’ in that kind of tone, that’s generally what comes to mind.”

Eddie blinks, then groans, and flings himself back on the blanket. He drapes one arm over his eyes, hiding the world from view. He heaves a great sigh. “Nothing like that ever happened between Chrissy and I,” he says quietly. “Never dated, never hooked up. Never even so much as kissed.”

“Oh.” You process this, wondering at her significance. “Who is she, then?”

“Just a girl in town,” he mutters. “We went to high school together.” He sighs resignedly again, and pulls his arm up, just enough so he can peek at you. “Listen, Wayne and I, we don’t have a whole lot to our names. In case that wasn’t obvious.” He snorts humorlessly. “I…used to deal, for a bit of extra cash. Help out with the rent and stuff. Did Marissa tell you that, too?”

“She did,” you affirm. “But Eddie, I don’t care about that either, I swear.”

He moves on without acknowledging your remark. “Chrissy was a cheerleader. Queen of Hawkins High, basically. And she was looking to buy one day, so we met up after school. I was just gonna sell her some pot, but she asked me if I had anything, ah, stronger.” He wets his lips with his tongue. “I didn’t usually sell harder shit to other students, but I had some Special K laying around, for my own…personal use.” He doesn’t dare look up again to see your reaction to this tidbit. “And I sold it to her…and then she disappeared.”

You stare at him. “She…disappeared?”

Eddie sits back up and nods, face hardening. “For a few days, anyway. Ran away. Her family’s got a good name, and a lot of money, but that doesn’t always make for a good home life, y’know? I don’t know what was going on with her, exactly, but she wasn’t okay. And when she skipped town, everyone pointed their fingers at me.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate; the implication is clear. Still, you ask, “What, they thought that you…did something to her?”

“Yeah,” he deadpans, staring off into the distance. “All but brought out the pitchforks and torches.”

Indignance on his behalf hits you like a truck. “Teenagers run away all the time!”

Eddie rubs his face in distress. “Yeah, they do, but when Hawkins’ golden girl is last seen entering the town freak’s trailer to buy ketamine, people tend to jump to conclusions.”

A wave of sadness washes over you, as you try to picture it in your head: they truly believed that sweet, doting Eddie was capable of hurting a young girl like that?

Eddie, who played fantasy games with kids six years his junior simply because they asked him to, and fed the strays in the trailer park, and spent many a Sunday making banana bread with his uncle? Who he chose to live with instead of moving out, because he loved him and wanted to be close in case he needed him? Was it even possible, for people to be so blind?

The very thought of it makes you sick. “That’s horrible….”

“S’okay,” he mumbles. “She came back home eventually. A little worse for wear, I heard, but she was fine. Told everyone that I had nothing to do with her leaving, or whatever happened while she was gone. But,” he shrugs, “people will believe what they wanna believe. The Munson reputation precedes me.”

You reach for his warm hand, and clasp it in yours, savoring the feel of his calloused palm against your own.

He casts you a desperate glance. “I swear I never did anything to her,” he whispers.

Your chest aches for him, and you squeeze his hand. “Of course you didn’t.”

His breathing hitches. “I guess it’s obvious,” he says, voice trembling slightly, “that there’s a lot of stuff I haven’t, um, told you about yet. And to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready to tell you all of it right now, either. But I will, someday.”

There it is. The notion that Eddie wants to be in your life long-term, and that he wants you to be in his, finally spoken.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to,” you reassure him quietly. “It won’t change how I feel about you, anyway. I think you’re really wonderful. I-I like you so much, Eddie.”

A silence falls over the two of you. Eddie watches the bumblebees fly lazily over the white clover dotting the lawn. You try to think of something else to say, something you can tell him that’ll make the pain go away, erase the hurt that this town has caused him. You suspect that this incident with Chrissy is just the tip of the iceberg that is Eddie’s trauma — for how long was he treated like this by those around him, and how harshly?

Before you can come up with the right words to soothe him, Eddie speaks again, his voice a little stronger. “So you, uh…heard that I was a drug-dealing cult leader, but got upset because you thought I was seeing someone else?”

At last, some brevity. You make eye contact across the blanket, and you’re relieved to see the corners of his lips have turned up into a tiny smile.

Heat blooms in your cheeks as you nod. “I did, yeah.”

He attempts husky laugh, though he still looks weary. “Damn. You got it bad, huh?”

You shrug. “What can I say? You’re a catch, Munson. I don’t think I feel like sharing.”

He hums softly, and he relaxes a little, body sagging as he finally releases some of the tension he’s been holding onto all this time. “Sorry for snapping at you,” he offers needlessly, biting at his thumbnail.

You dismiss it immediately. “Don’t apologize —”

“Nah, I get it. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you if the cult rumors or the dealing really did bother you, even. I mean, that’s some pretty jarring intel to hear from your boss about the guy you’re dating. They’re not really things people tend to look for in a partner.”

You shake your head. “I should’ve talked to you about it as soon as it happened. But it just felt so…crass to come right out and start interrogating you.” You scoot closer to him on the blanket. “You have to believe me, Eddie, I don’t care about what anyone else has to say. I feel like I know you,” you pause, and reach out with your free hand to cup his cheek, “even if I’m a little fuzzy on the details right now.”

He sucks in a quick breath, closing his eyes, and rests his face against your palm. “I have to warn you,” he says, “that if we’re together, and people know about it, then this might not be the last time someone tries to talk to you about me. And I’m asking you to — to trust that I’m not what they say I am.”

“I do,” you promise. “I trust you.”

You lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, and chuckles weakly. Although the reassurance was needed, he’s feeling all too vulnerable for his liking, so he changes the subject. “You know, while we’re hashing things out here, can I ask you an unrelated question?”

You smile indulgently. “Shoot.”

“So, I guess we know now that this wasn’t really why, but Wayne told me that the reason you weren’t talking to me is because I’m up your ass all the time, and that I need to give you more space. That’s why I didn’t come sooner. I know I kind of smother you, and I was worried that maybe, maybe you needed a break from me, or something?”

Rubbing your thumb against his cheekbone, you whisper, “Oh, gosh no. You’re like…my favorite person, Eddie.” You nod shyly, as though affirming it to yourself for the first time. “Yeah. You’re the person I want to be around the most, um, at any given moment.”

Eddie blushes, and something inside of him shifts at those words, making him feel impossibly soft. “Me too,” he returns.

Your turn. “And I have a question for you, too.”

“Shoot,” he echoes.

“Were you gonna play me something on that?” You gesture to his guitar, forgotten on the grass behind him.

Eddie lets out another laugh, the most carefree one he’s uttered today. “I was. Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine you playing acoustic music. I’m intrigued.”

Eddie grasps the neck of the guitar with one hand, and drags the instrument into his lap, situating himself into a playing position. “You’d be shocked, sweetheart. I can make just about anything sound metal.”

Your eyes sparkle wickedly. “Are you gonna play me some Joni Mitchell?”

Eddie purses his lips. “No, I was thinking KISS. It, uh, translates pretty well, actually.”

You cross your legs on the blanket, rest your elbow on your knee and tuck your hand under your chin — giving him your full attention.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s hear it!”

thank you for reading!! <3

taglist: @eddiesgirlforever @eds6ngel @sheisahauntedhouse @lokis-tardis-companion19 @teary-eyed-egg @whenshelanded @nanaminswhore @witchwolflea @destinationwanderlust @kores-mun-son-n-more @clairesjointshurt @fishwithtitz @wickedscorpio22 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @lexr86 @cultish-corner

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x reader series #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x bookworm!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff

90 notes · View notes

onceuponapuffin · 3 days

Text

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

Beginning|| Previous || Next

It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning|| Previous || Next

74 notes · View notes

ninjakk · 2 days

Note

Hey!!

I recently saw someone claim that Wei Wuxian was starved of conversation on his journey to Yiling with Lan Wangji and Wen Ning and so board he needed to chat to people before they ascend the mountain. I hadn't really noticed this until it was mentioned. What do you think of that scene?

I love your meta and fics btw. You use your understanding of the novel in your writing and it's just *chef's kiss*

Hi anon 👋🏻

Personally, I've not seen any comments regarding the above - but we can certainly look at the text in question 😊

Let's take a look at the scene in question:

Several days later, they arrived in Yiling.

The Burial Mounds were less than five kilometers ahead of this small town. Although they didn’t know exactly what awaited them there, Wei Wuxian had a feeling it wasn’t anything good. But Lan Wangji was right by his side, his gait steady, his gaze cool. Wei Wuxian had never been one with any sense of crisis to begin with, and with the way Lan Wangji looked, he was even less likely to get nervous at all.

Passing through the small town of Yiling, he was awash in the sounds of the local accent. It was invigorating and incomparably endearing. While he wasn’t planning on buying anything, he couldn’t help but strike up conversations in the local dialect with the street vendors. Only after he’d had his fill of socializing did he get down to business.

“Hanguang-jun, you remember this town, right?”

7S translation

So the scene opens with WWX gushing over how safe and happy he feels around LWJ. He's just so thankful to have someone by his side, someone he can fully depend on and is there for him, should he need it. This very much echoes his thoughts from when they began their descent from the Cloud Recesses, at the start of their journey here. For someone nearing the place he met such a gruesome end at previously, he seems incredibly content and calm - all thanks to LWJ. So straight away, we are reminded of how WWX feels around the other man. It's there for a reason, to set the scene. WWX is relaxed and enjoying himself because he's with LWJ.

They have just arrived in a city he is very familiar with. It's the place he both lived as an orphan and frequented as a man while residing at the burial mounds. He is surrounded by the accent of his "home" for the first time in over 13 years and it's making him feel sentimental. I also think it's a great parallel between when WWX finally visits Lotus Pier in the coming chapters and how desolate and subdued the place has become since JC became sect leader.

I think the above reaction is very normal considering the emotional impact it obviously had on him. WWX has already stated on numerous occasions that LWJ makes him happy and he enjoys his company, but he's also very sociable and likes to look around markets and chat with vendors - there's even a scene in the novel which states as such and many other examples. Although WWX is running around chatting and exploring the stalls, LWJ is still by his side. Doing so does not subtract from his obvious enjoyment of having LWJ's unwavering presence.

We see more than enough evidence that WWX happily chats to LWJ and that he, in turn, even responds and asks questions also. There seems to be this mind-boggling misconception that LWJ literally doesn't speak, and if he does he's like some caveman that can't communicate effectively, when it's the exact opposite. LWJ talks when necessary and is very succinct with his words - he's a true gentleman of their time. Of course, in comparison to WWX, he's much less chatty - but when he does talk it's sincere and relevant. WWX loves this about him! He's also an incredible listener and doesn't miss a single thing WWX says, which WWX also appreciates! Hardly anyone listens to all his ramblings and holds them all so dearly!

It's funny, because although WWX chats to anyone and everyone, it's obvious he enjoys conversing with LWJ the most. He treasures the fact they are on the same wavelength and understand each other implicitly 🥰

Aww! Thank you so much anon! I'm glad you are enjoying my meta and fics ❤️

I hope I managed to answer your question! Have a lovely day 😘

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs novel #anon ask #answered ask

70 notes · View notes

pippytmi · 2 days

Note

Your ennemies to lovers prompts make me think so much about kacy during S1. I appreciate all of your Kacy fics and love the emotions you manage to create with your writing. I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a story that combines prompt 4 and 6?

It is an unspoken rule that when the DIA is involved in a case, Lucy needs to be kept far, far away.

At least, that’s how Jesse rationalizes trying to keep Lucy away from DIA Officer Whistler. He cites repeated complaints to Tennant (undeserved ones), numerous whisper-shouting matches in the halls (all Whistler’s fault), and ending in the middle of tense stare-downs more often than not (obviously biased). So really, it’s a no-brainer that Lucy indignantly ignores Jesse’s pleas and makes it her mission to give as good as she gets.

“Good morning, DIA Officer Whistler,” Lucy tells her sweetly this morning, having been waiting outside the elevator just to catch the briefly-perplexed, then immediately-annoyed expression on Whistler’s face.

“Special Agent Tara,” Whistler says curtly. “I was told I would be speaking with Agent Boone today.”

“He’s busy,” Lucy says. “Small mishap with his car.” (She’d let the air out of his tires, actually, just in preparation for today).

Whistler’s expression does not waver. “I’ll speak with Special Agent Tennant, then,” she says.

“Or,” Lucy says, following as Whistler begins to stalk through the bullpen, “you can discuss the case with me. I haven’t actually been briefed on why you’re here, but if you give me two minutes…”

Whistler comes to an abrupt stop, and Lucy nearly knocks them both over; Whistler has to grip Lucy’s arm just to keep her from falling on her face, and when Lucy meets Whistler’s gaze, she sees—strangely—a kind of uncharacteristic apprehension that Whistler never has. Whistler drops Lucy’s arm like she has been burned, and her voice goes quiet when she says,

“It really would make more sense to discuss clearance with your boss. It’s a time-sensitive matter.”

“Oh.” Lucy tries to hide her confusion, but it’s a halfhearted attempt at best; usually, the back-and-forth with Whistler is inevitable (and maybe even slightly thrilling). Whistler never just…gives up. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Whistler says, already heading towards Jane’s office with renewed intensity. “Excuse me.”

Lucy is practically rooted in her spot, bewildered, and she watches as Tennant beckons Whistler inside before shutting the door. “Huh,” she says aloud. “Weird.”

“What’s weird?” Kai comes in carrying coffee, and he freezes in place as he, too, realizes what Lucy is looking at. “Damn. DIA’s here already? We haven’t even been briefed on the case yet.”

“Apparently it’s ‘time-sensitive’,” Lucy says, complete with air quotes and everything. “Think this means Whistler will actually give us something for once?”

“I’m not holding my breath,” Kai yawns, offering Lucy her cup before he wanders over to his desk. “Hey, where’s Jesse?”

(Lucy decides not to incriminate herself by answering that).

By the time Whistler and Jane emerge, both Kai and Lucy are pretending to be working and Jesse is just barely bursting through the doors. Jane doesn’t comment on either; instead, she waves her arms to get everyone together and begins her spiel about how they need to work with DIA and be a happy team or whatever. Honestly, Lucy is kind of tuning out the pep talk and is instead studying Whistler—everything about her body language screams discomfort, from the stiffness of her shoulders to the sharpness of her set mouth. And when she catches Lucy staring, all she does is quickly look away.

Weird.

Later, after they've been fully briefed and Jane dismisses them to do boring grunt work, Lucy tries to edge closer to Whistler and ask what exactly DIA needs to be here for. But when Whistler sees her coming, she makes a beeline towards Jesse instead, and Lucy is left frowning at their backs.

At first Lucy doesn't think too much of it. Jesse is probably handling the precious, redacted DIA files that point them to the possible suspects in this abduction case. But then, after Lucy is tasked with talking to their kidnapping victim's husband, she tries to be polite and ask Whistler if she wants to sit in. A gesture of goodwill, really, to make Whistler feel like she’s part of the investigation.

“Hey Whistler, do you want to get in on this?” Lucy waves her case file enticingly when Whistler emerges from the break room. “We can do a good cop/bad cop routine. Obviously we know who's who in that scenario, but if you ask nicely I might consider flipping you for bad cop.”

Whistler blinks at her. “What?”

“I'm going to interview Sergeant Nguyen’s husband,” Lucy clarifies. “Want to help?”

“That's not in my job description,” Whistler says, brow crinkling in deeper confusion. “And I have to go talk to Tennant.”

“Again?” Lucy asks this question to the empty space where Whistler used to be. Except this time, Whistler is not being invited into Jane’s office. No, Whistler is just walking away, and pretending to get a call so she has an excuse to exit the hallway.

In an instant, Lucy is pissed off. Here she is, extending an olive branch, and Whistler is acting like she's too good for it. Fine—if Whistler wants to avoid her, then two can play at that game.

Ernie patiently listens to Lucy explain all of this once the interview with the Sergeant's husband gets them nothing. “So that’s why you're hiding in here,” he guesses. “Because Whistler doesn’t want to fight with you like usual.”

“I'm not hiding,” Lucy scoffs. “I actually came here to discuss…” She lamely grabs the top file on his desk, flipping it open to the first page. “Timothy Summers. Hm. Yeah, I think he's our guy.”

“Great,” Ernie says. “So an arrest is imminent, then?”

“Oh, definitely. That's why I'm here…with you…for our next move.”

“And how does the fact that he's been dead for six months fit into this?”

Lucy pauses. “You couldn’t have just told me that?”

“It’s literally underneath his picture. Deceased.” Ernie jabs at the file with his finger, and Lucy smacks him with it. “Ow! God, you’re mean when you fight with your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Lucy’s voice comes out several octaves higher than it should. “Why would you say that?”

“Uh, lots of reasons.” Ernie pops open a box of candy on his desk, offering Lucy a sympathetic red vine which she numbly accepts. “Everyone can see it. Honestly, I thought you two were going to start going at it on Kai’s desk the other day when Whistler broke the news that we were off the Dominguez case.”

Lucy’s jaw drops. “Because we were arguing?”

“Intensely arguing,” Ernie corrects. “Kai and I placed bets on who would kiss who first.”

“Are you serious? She hates me.”

“Does she?” Ernie continues chewing on his red vine before whispering conspiringly, “Or does she secretly burn for you?”

Horrified, Lucy ditches the candy; surely, that must be the reason she suddenly feels sick to her stomach. “Forget it. I’m going to hide somewhere else.”

“So you are hiding. I knew it! Hey, can you—”

Whatever Ernie wants, Lucy doesn’t stick around to find out. She decides she’s going to find Kai instead, see if he has any actual leads in the case.

Except she ends up bumping into Whistler again. Full-on body contact this time, even—Whistler jerks backwards, Lucy tries to jump into the wall, and really it's a wonder it doesn't end in catastrophe.

“I'm sorry, I…” Whistler trails off when she sees Lucy. “Um, Tennant said I had to talk to Ernie about Sergeant Nguyen’s finances. Is he here?”

“Yeah, he's in there.” Lucy gestures vaguely over her shoulder. “The tech-nerd talk is all yours. I need to go talk to...other people. About things.”

Whistler nods awkwardly, still waiting, and Lucy belatedly steps out of the doorway in order to head back to the bullpen. Okay, so, Operation Avoid Whistler is officially off to a bad start.

But when she catches up to Kai, he has a much better idea of how to spend their time, and it also guarantees Lucy can avoid Whistler perfectly.

“Sergeant Nguyen was last seen at a Vietnamese restaurant two blocks from here,” Kai says. “Do you want to go check it out? Maybe we'll get something the police didn't.”

Lucy’s spirits are immediately lifted. “Yes. I could go for a banh mi,” she says dreamily. “Ooh, and some spring rolls.”

“I'm…pretty sure we're not allowed to order food from our suspects.”

“We don't know if they're our suspects,” Lucy reminds him. “And besides, spring rolls never kidnapped anyone.” She pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

It ends up being closer to twenty minutes to update Jane on their next move, but Jane does give her blessing to investigate (and bring back lunch). Lucy has a pep in her step the entire way out to the parking lot, where…Whistler is standing.

Lucy notices her first; Whistler is facing the ocean, hand cupped above her forehead and frowning at something. She looks so serious—and out of place—that Lucy almost considers asking what’s wrong. Key word almost, because she is still on avoid-Kate-Whistler-mode, and she makes a mad dash to Kai’s car before Whistler can spot her.

Kai yelps when Lucy yanks the door open with, admittedly, a sense of urgency that is a tad unwarranted. “What—?”

“Drive, Kai,” Lucy demands, and he immediately starts up the engine, but he eyes her warily all the same.

(Unfortunately, Lucy makes eye contact with Whistler through the window as the car peels out of the lot, and she groans and sinks low in her seat.)

“What was that?” Kai ventures to ask. “Are you and Whistler fighting?”

“For once, no,” Lucy says. “She’s been avoiding me. So now I’m the one avoiding her.”

“Well did something happen?” The drive is quick, and before they know it, Kai is easing the car into a parking spot. “I know you two get…uh. Really passionate sometimes.”

“Because she hates me,” Lucy reiterates, feeling like a broken record at this point. “So I hate to break it to you, but you and Ernie are not going to collect on any bets related to kissing.”

Kai winces. “You know about that?”

“Yes, Kai, what the hell? I expect this from Ernie, but from you?”

“Any way I can make it up to you?” Kai asks weakly.

“Buy me lunch and we’ll talk,” Lucy says, and Kai—newfound meddler that he has proved to be—can at least follow instructions beautifully.

The restaurant turns out to be a dead-end case wise, but their menu is grand; they order too much food and bring enough lunch for everyone. (Even Whistler).

But when Lucy ever-so-casually mentions this, Jane just shrugs and says,

“I told her to stick around for you two, but she said she had to finalize some reports.”

“Wow,” Ernie says around a mouthful of noodles, “that’s dedication. Turning down free food just for work.” He pointedly raises his eyebrows at Lucy, who in turn tries very hard to glower at him with just her eyes.

“Good for her,” is all Lucy has to say about that. Jane gives her a curious look for the comment, but thankfully doesn’t ask.

“Hey, Lucy,” Ernie says suddenly. “I left my tea in the lair. Can you do me a favor and bring it to me?”

Lucy—still cradling her precious, half-eaten banh mi—has to do an actual double-take. “Why can’t you get it?”

“Because I have a cramp…in my leg…and you love me,” Ernie says. When Lucy stares back at him, unimpressed, he tries again with: “And I’ll owe you?”

“Fine,” Lucy sighs. “But you’re being so weird.” Suspiciously weird, even, but his scheming doesn’t click until Lucy is actually opening Ernie’s door and—“Oh.”

Whistler lifts her head at the intrusion, her stunned expression likely a mirror of Lucy’s. “Special Agent Tara,” she says.

“Whistler,” Lucy says slowly. “What are you doing in here?”

“Ernie said I could borrow his computer,” Whistler says. “DIA wants me here until we get a ransom demand, and I wanted to get some work done.”

“Ernie let you borrow his computer,” Lucy echoes. “Willingly?”

“Yes?” Whistler tilts her head questioningly. “Sorry, did you need something?”

Lucy knows she should be looking for Ernie’s tea. She also knows she should probably ask Whistler about it. But all that comes out is: “You know, we brought lunch for everyone.”

“Thank you, but I had lunch already.” Whistler glances back down at the computer screen, tapping away at its keys in a silent dismissal, and in an instant Lucy has had enough.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

The mechanical typing falters. “I’m not.”

“You’re working with everyone else on my team but me,” Lucy says. “That kind of feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“Maybe I felt like getting actual work done for once.” Whistler looks up again, this time with a deep-set frown on her lips. “And I wasn’t in the mood to fight.”

“Hey, you’re the one who fights with me!” Lucy argues. “Literally, from day one. You yelled at Jane about me in front of everyone.”

“Because you stole a sensitive report which you had no clearance for!”

“Actually, I read it upside down while you were talking about how I didn’t have clearance for it,” Lucy counters. “No stealing required.”

Whistler’s jaw clenches. “That is not any better.”

“But it means I’m not a thief. I’m just…you know, crafty,” Lucy says. “Come on, haven’t you ever bent the rules a little to break a case?”

“I don't break cases,” Whistler says flatly. “I protect intel.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she snaps, exasperated, “you’re a saint and a better person than I am. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Are you—what is your problem? That is not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” Lucy lets the words hang between them in the ensuing silence. She doesn’t even realize that she has placed her hands on the desk in challenge—barely any space between them now—until Whistler is hastily standing up.

Even as tall as she is, Whistler’s voice comes out incredibly small. “Nothing,” she says finally. “Please forgive my…gross unprofessionalism. Clearly, I have overstayed my welcome.” She steps out from behind the desk without even bothering to close whatever she’d been working on, and Lucy sees red.

“Oh sure, just run away,” Lucy huffs. “Go ahead! Prove you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been—”

“I’m sick of playing this game with you!” Lucy cuts her off.

Whistler doesn’t move an inch. “What game?”

Dammit. Ernie is most definitely in her head. What the hell; it’s not like Lucy has anything to lose. “The game where we pretend we don't like each other,” she says firmly. “You’re an asshole and I like to piss you off, but obviously there is something else here and I’m not crazy. This is—”

Honestly, in the back of her mind, the most Lucy expects is more denial. At worst, she expects Whistler to march out of the room and report her to Jane again. She certainly does not anticipate Whistler yanking Lucy in to kiss her breathless—just for a brief, dizzying moment—before pulling away.

Whistler tries to apologize, but Lucy doesn’t let her; she is once again determined to give as good as she gets (in a very different context). Lucy pulls Whistler right back in, grasping desperately at her face and stretching as fall as the tips of her toes will allow.

It seems to reassure Whistler in any case, who eagerly slides her hands along Lucy’s back and melts against her. Maybe it's the months of pent-up aggression between the two of them, or maybe it's the knowledge that Whistler is an actual human being, or maybe it's just the ghost of the faint touch of Whistler's fingertips underneath the hem of Lucy’s shirt, but the kiss gets really intense really fast.

Lucy debates sliding her own hand under Whistler's shirt—see if she is as serious in her bra choices as she is in pantsuits—but then Whistler flicks her tongue into Lucy’s mouth and she cannot possibly be expected to focus. It's intoxicating and exhilarating and…

“Wait, wait,” Lucy regretfully manages to twist away. “We can't do this.”

“Right,” Whistler says, nodding rapidly. “It would be a mistake.” She's clearly trying to school her features into her usual stoic demeanor, but her efforts are completely undermined by her kiss-swollen lips and the obvious flush on her cheeks.

“What? No, I meant, we can't do this here,” Lucy says. “You think it would be a mistake?”

“Not if…you don't,” Kate says, almost like a question.

“Are you seriously going to throw yourself at me but not even say what you feel out loud? I think you're addicted to fighting with me,” Lucy decides.

“I didn't throw myself at you, and—if anything, you're the one trying to fight with me!” Kate exclaims. “Every day I come in, and you're there trying to undermine me. I've been trying to keep my distance for both our sakes. Obviously our working dynamic is…less than ideal, most of the time.”

“I'm not trying to undermine you. I'm just trying to get you to loosen up a little maybe,” Lucy says. “Which…okay, might be annoying. So I get why you're an uptight asshole sometimes. No offense!”

Whistler frowns. “Some offense taken.”

“Oh, it's fine,” Lucy says. “The asshole thing is unfortunately very hot. Ernie may or may not have had a point.”

“What does Ernie have to do with this?” Whistler looks horrified now.

“Not like—Ernie and I don't sit around discussing how hot you are,” Lucy tries to save face. “He just suggested that we might…you know…jump each other at some point.”

“You're not making this any better.”

“Then forget Ernie,” Lucy says. “Take him out of the equation entirely. Do you also find me unfortunately hot?”

“I wouldn’t call it unfortunate,” Whistler says. “But. Yes?”

“Okay, so…” Lucy trails off. “What are we doing here, Whistler? Do you want to walk out of here and pretend this never happened?”

“No.” Whistler steps forward hesitantly. “That’s not what I want. I…I like you, Lucy. And I know this would completely ruin our working relationship, but—”

“Shut up about work,” Lucy says, dragging Whistler back in for another fervorous kiss, delighting in the fact that Whistler certainly isn’t fighting her now.

(Lucy’s phone buzzing, however, does effectively kill the mood.)

“What is that?” Whistler is instantly back into work mode, smoothing her hair haphazardly as if someone is about to walk in any second. “Is it about the case?”

Lucy unlocks her phone with bated breath. “Maybe we finally have a ransom call,” she says, before the familiar face in her text messages proves otherwise. “...nevermind, it’s just Ernie. He wants to know if we’ve ‘kissed and made up’. I’m going to tell him we’re going to have sex in his chair.”

Whistler half-coughs, half-chokes. “Are we?”

“Obviously not,” Lucy says. Then, thoughtfully: “But I’m technically still on lunch. Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, I have a company car,” Whistler says. “Do you have another lead?”

“No, but I do have thirty minutes to spare,” Lucy says cheerfully. “Get your keys. We’re totally going to have sex in your company car.”

Whistler turns very, very red. “I…don’t think my boss would like that.”

“Fine, then we can make out in your company car,” Lucy amends. “But you’re going to have to leave first. Kai and Ernie have a bet going about us, and I don’t want either of them to win.”

“Your team has a strange obsession with your love life,” Whistler tells her matter-of-factly.

“Eh, could be worse,” Lucy says. “Jane could get involved.”

Whistler—marginally disheveled—manages to crack a smile. “Let’s not let it get that far,” she suggests, brushing one final kiss against Lucy’s mouth with a resigned sigh. “So…are we keeping this between us for now?”

“I guess so,” Lucy says begrudgingly. “Think you can keep on fighting me in front of everyone?”

Whistler shrugs. “Are you going to keep being an asshole?”

“Wha—hey, no fair! You’re the asshole. I’m the good-meaning, happy-go-lucky agent who just wants to keep you human,” Lucy says, poking at Whistler’s cheek until her smile grows even more.

“Challenge accepted,” Whistler says, smoothly tucking a strand of hair behind Lucy’s cheek before casually making her exit.

Lucy places her hands on her hips and wistfully watches her go. This day has gone absolutely nowhere she expected it to, but dammit, she can’t be mad.

(Especially when her phone buzzes again with another text from Ernie. All it says is: NOOOOOO 😭).

#this is essentially a re-imagining of s1 #where kate & lucy first met on the job and just hated each other from day one and ofc the tension is off the charts #kacy #kate x lucy #ncis hawaii #ty for the prompt!! these two in an enemies to lovers scenario 100% eats ngl #i need a fic tag

64 notes · View notes

pumpkinbxtch · 2 days

Note

Thanks for doing that Lester x Non Binary Dionysus reader! I really loved it and I'm sorry for being so vague about it I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted. But it made me think, what would happen if Dionysus found out that Apollo and his child were dating? I think it would be fun. Take your time, I love your oneshots <333

oops, father found out ˚ ༘ ⋆

— apollo x child of dionysus!reader

previous part (no need to read it)

Warnings: none!

a/n: hi again! I'm glad you liked the last part and don't worry sometimes it's hard for us to know what we want. Here you go, I hope you like it ❤️ And thank you for your support 🥹🫶🏻 I hope i did well on this one too.

— What? Did you lose your mind, kid?! — You chuckled at the obvious reference to your father's powers. Usually, you'd be scared out of your wits, but with Apollo by your side, things just seemed easier. If that wasn't love, then what was it? — Don't make me punish you!

Apollo sighed. — Brother...

— Exactly, you're my brother! It's your—

— Stop! — You pleaded as you brought your hands to your head. You looked at Dionysus, his nose getting redder when he got angry. — You don't have DNA, father.

He snorted.

— I don't care, this can't happen.

— But it's already happening — your boyfriend defended. To your surprise, Apollo stood up straighter, more convinced, determined not to let you be separated, not after all the eons he spent searching for the love of his life. — And I love them. Be sure of that, brother. My intentions are not to hurt them.

Dionysus gritted his teeth and looked at Pollux, who had his gaze fixed on some point, thinking gods only know what. You, who knew him better than anyone, thought he looked surprised but not angry, because he had already lost a brother. Clearly, he didn't want to lose another sibling... but things were different, different situations, that's what he thought.

The room remained tense for different reasons; you couldn't believe the stupid reason you had been caught. Maybe it would have been better if your father had caught you kissing behind the cabin or holding hands, but you never imagined it would be because of the trace of your perfume on Apollo's clothes.

"I gave it to you!" your father said when he shook your boyfriend's shirt in your face, and you let out nervous giggles.

The question that haunted you was whether your father would take all this seriously and not let them be together because sometimes he could be strict and stubborn.

— You know what it is...

Apollo's voice filled the room of The Big House, and you could see Chiron discreetly pacing to catch up on the gossip. Dionysus raised an eyebrow and leaned over his brother, who, holding his brother's fleeting gaze, never faltered.

— What are you saying, Apollo?

— Falling in love — he replied, and you stopped feeling the situation funny; instead, a warmth spread across your cheeks. Pollux glanced at you sideways, and a small smile formed on his face. Things were getting better and better.

— Don't talk nonsense, Apollo.

— I'm not, brother. You and Ariadne—

— No! — the other exclaimed with a growl, his eyes bubbling with fury.

Apollo sighed again and approached his brother even closer, almost touching noses.

— Don't forget how you felt every time father scolded you.

— It's not the same!

— No, but you know what it's like to love someone so much that you lose the reason for your being, brother. — Apollo stepped back, his eyes shining with confidence. — I won't make them feel less than a deity or part of royalty I'll adore them with my soul until the ether dissipates. You know I've changed, brother, and for them, Me, a god, would die.

Dionysus wanted to intervene; however, Apollo kept speaking, pouring his heart out with every word.

— I would vanish and all humanity with the absence of my light before I even think of disappointing your child.

Pollux slid until his shoulders bumped, and you looked at him amazed. He smiled and hooked his pinky with yours. "I like him, I accept it," he wanted to say.

The place filled with silence, and your father looked away from Apollo for the first time to fix his gaze on you.

— Leave, I need to talk to my brother alone.

And although you would have liked to contradict him, you obeyed because you finally noticed the emotion he was hiding behind the anger in his eyes; there was nothing but fear, and you would have to endure until he let you know because despite how tough he could seem, he was your father. The same one who raised you with love and affection.

Before walking further from the porch, you could see through those curtains a hug, and you sighed. Everything would be fine.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#trials of apollo #apollo x you #apollo x reader #apollo pjo #apollo pjo x reader #apollo x y/n #lester papadopoulos x you #lester papadopoulos x reader #lester papadopoulos #pjo hoo toa #pjo #trials of apollo x reader

41 notes · View notes

volturiprincess · 2 days

Text

You kill me

Caius Volturi x Vampire mate

Summary: Mated to the Ruthless Volturi King Warnings: Language, mentions of death, Angst, Caius internal thoughts 🤭 A/N: I kept changing my mind of how I wanted to write hence why it took me like 2 weeks to work on it, there will be a part two to this. Also this was inspired by the song "Me Matas" by Eslabon Armado, at this point its like a mini series of One-Shots being inspired by this group. Second A/N in the end. Enjoy :) Word Count: 4k+ (Didn't realize it was that long)

________________________________________________________

(I loved him in this era, gold is his color, but he looks so good in red also)

“Well brother it appears you have found your mate”

I looked up at Aro who was looking at Caius. Mate? Whoever it is. I am so sorry for them. I have heard stories about Caius being this ruthless king who had no sympathy for human life, much to what my twin brother Carlisle has told me but he did say that Caius did have a love for the arts. Still I never had the chance to even meet the kings or anyone in Volterra, from the time my brother was part of this coven I was in South America exploring as always. The only reason why I'm even in Volterra was because Edward decided he wanted to kill himself for the reason he thought that Bella was dead. Alice brought me along not really telling me why, only said she needed my help.

So now I am here in the throne room staring at the other three kings. I could feel the blonde one staring at me but I avoided eye contact. Aro with his creepy like gaze swiftly moved toward me and my family,

“It is an honor to finally meet the infamous sister of Carlisle, may I?”

He extended his hand and I knew what he wanted. Carlisle told me about Aro, so I obliged without wanting to put the kids in danger. With one touch I relived every thought and memory I have ever had, it was strange seeing everything I have been through flash before my eyes. I pulled my hand away when I heard a slight hiss. It didn't come from Aro but it did leave me curious.

“Magnifico! You will make a wonderful mate to my brother and a perfect addition to this coven”

My eyes widened at his words, what does he mean mate to his brother. ME. Since when? How?

“I beg to pardon?”

“It appears you are the mate to my brother Caius”

No way, the mate to the blonde, I was just badwording him a minute ago and now I'm his mate. Instant karma for me. My eyes then wandered slowly to the blonde and he already had his gaze on me, just from his face I can tell he was displeased with the unraveling events. I felt a small hand grab me and I looked slightly into the eyes of the one I was the closest to, Alice.

“You knew didn't you?”

She looked down and I knew I got my answer, I looked up at Edward who had a flabbergasted look and cling more to Bella. Now I'm starting to think if Carlisle knew about this, did Alice tell him and Esme, my eyes widened slightly at the thought that I might never see my family again. I didn't even want to look at anyone in this room, not even the piercing blood red eyes that belong to my now mate. Aro was the one to break the silence

“Well with that cleared why don't we go on with the plan”

I totally forgot why we were here, I also forgot that Aro was on the verge to kill Bella and as much as I don't really like her, I might as well do one more thing for my family

“That won't be necessary Aro”

The raven head looked at me with a look of curiosity

“Why’s that?”

“What if we made a deal?”

I could literally see the spark or interest in his eyes, he looked like a child who was going to be rewarded with a prize for behaving. He nodded toward me to continue

“You spear my family and I stay”

What surprise me was Caius was the one to speak up next

“No deal, that human is a liability, she knows to much”

I looked at the blonde with narrowed eyes

“What if my family promised to change her soon?”

Nobody dared to talk but Aro piped in

“If they follow through with the promise then we will allow it, but you remain here and they go”

I nodded and then instantly a guard who had such elegance that would put the Greek gods themselves to shame led my family out and I was about to reach out for them when a beast of a man grabbed me. I looked up at the giant and my initial thought for a minute was “Why is he good looking?How can he be so tall and…have muscle in all the right places, again the greek gods themselves would be jealous”, That hiss sound was heard again and the giant let go of me. I looked around the throne room for where that hiss came from but everyone seemed to stand in the same place as before. Aro gave instruction to the twins who I remember my brother told me about, Alec and Jane, to take me to Caius private chambers. At the mention of that I almost wanted to make a run for it. The two led me away and I felt Caius' gaze on me the whole time as I was leaving the room.

Eventually I was left alone in the room, I had to admit it was a lovely room, it did seem fit for a king but also for a man of art. I felt strange being in his room alone, I don't even know the vampire and now I have to be with him for eternity. This is also unfair, why couldn't I at least say goodbye to my brothers kids, I might never see them or my brother again, I just got back from traveling and was set to settle down with my brothers coven for once. I only got 5 years with them. Maybe it's my fault for always wanting to explore and be on my own but life was cut short for me and I never got that chance when I was human.

Mine and Carlisle’s father forbade me to go out without my brother by me, I couldn't even go down the street to get a loaf of bread for dinner alone. Not that I don't love spending time with my

brother, but I always had that curiosity to go be alone and explore the world. Until that fateful day of my ‘death’, it happened after Carlisle was pronounced ‘dead’, and from that father was more strict than ever, I never got a chance to get a breath of fresh air, day and night at home; cleaning, cooking, reading, sewing, and etc. It got repetitive very quickly, so I decided one night to run away. That night I knew my father was away on another vampire hunt, so I knew I would be alone. I packed a small bag and went out by the back door. So far my journey was good, I decided to head off to York, I read books about this town and the gothic architecture was a must see.

I had a good 10 miles away from my home, when it happened, I was walking along this path in the woods when two random men came out of the blue and took advantage of me. They left me there barely breathing and in my growing cold blood. I was minutes away from dying when a familiar face came into my hazyview, I knew who it was and before I could even say his name everything went black. It was not until days later I woke up in a small clearing and Carlisle came into view and explained everything to me. I was glad to see my twin alive but at the same time I was not thrilled with the idea that I had to drink human blood. Me and Carlisle with time discovered the concept of drinking animal blood and that helped. Soon after we were accustomed to the life of vampires we parted ways. I wanted to travel but he wanted to spend time in Italy.

At this moment I wished I stayed with my brother this whole time but then that meant I would have met my mate sooner and would have not met my brother’s coven. My mate…I was always curious to find out who they would be, I could see how my brother and Esme looked at each other, or how my brother’s children looked at their significant other, even Edward for once looked happy. I never knew I would even find them, I spent a lot of time alone and didn't really think about settling down or even finding my mate in this lifetime. I thought for sure I was destined for solitude, but it appears I was destined to be with the ruthless Volturi King.

Speaking about him I didn't even notice he came into the room and was seated in one of his Victorian burgundy styled sofas. I blinked a couple of times to make sure I was not seeing things but he spoke up

“You should really learn to be aware of your surroundings, I even gave you a kiss on the forehead and you didn't even notice or flinched”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I saw he had a slight smirk on his face, he was teasing me. I didn't even know whether to be surprised or pissed at this, in different circumstances I would have joked back. In a blink of an eye he was in front of me, towering over me, I would have looked up at him but I wanted to stand my ground. I felt him lift my chin up and I faced his bright ruby red eyes that seemed so enchanting.

I tried to avoid eye contact but his eyes were like a lure, once you got a glimpse there was no way to look away. He started to lean in until he was inches away from my lips, “keep it together y/n, keep it together y/n”. But then Blondie whispered “Con tempo” and he was gone. I was relieved but at the same time I had a hint of intrigued.

Flashback….

Year 1700 – From the stories I have heard from the townspeople and from our father, they made the vampire life seem so horrible, that a vampire is only seen as a monster. But I have never felt such a peace like state, from being controlled, to losing my brother, to my ‘death’, I finally have forever to be free with my brother. And as of right now me and him are laying in an open field in the outskirts of Italy, gazing at the stars as we have been doing the past 30 years already.

“They had it all wrong, did they not, lyle?”

“I can not say I disagree but you have a point, I would've never pictured our life to turn like this”

Life really has never been better than this moment. I appreciated the times me and Carlisle would spend at night talking about the latest book we read or how we want to further our education in medicine and the arts. I want to travel more but it seems he has other plans. I can sense it.

“Just say it, I know there is something”

In the corner of my eye I saw that he took an unnecessary breath. I knew what he was about to say would hurt me, he always did that when he had to break bad news to me, even when we were little, he always acted like the big brother.

“I was confronted by a coven of Vampires, they call themselves the Volturi, they been around for millennials, they favor the arts and science, and they have more knowledge than any human could ever dream of knowing and they have an impressive collection of books on everything, they offered us a spot into their coven, I said I would talk it out with you first”

I knew he made his decision, I knew this is something he has always wanted to do, he wanted to know more about the background knowledge of Vampires and more on old medicine and arts. Even that intrigued me but that would mean I would have to settle down and live out my life in some coven and stay in one place for eternity.

“Carlisle…you know I would never want to stop you from your education, I was the one who persuaded you to have an interest in the medical field, so I'm not going to be one to hold you back, I would rather die than to stop you from this.”

“I figured you would not want to join, I thought that maybe I would be able to convince you. I don't like being separated from you, your everything I have left of family”

I looked at him with a saddened look

“I know Lyle, but you know I don't like to be contained in one place forever, I need to be out and about, exploring and having the life I never got the chance to have”

He sits up looking out in the open field, I know he really wants me to join him, and I want to but there's still so much to explore still. Sitting up also I extend a hand toward him and a Lily flower bloomed within my hand, he looks at it with awe

“A Lily Flower? Mothers favorite…”

I gave him a small smile “It took me a while to learn how to create it, still not used to having this ability but I only managed to create a Tulip, next time I see you I will show you a whole garden of flowers”

End of Flashback.

We had that conversation over 300 years ago already. Even when we finally did reunite and I lived with him and his coven, I didnt show him what I was working on with the time I was away from him. I am actually outside in the Volturi gardens creating a whole new garden with fresh new flowers that are both rare and exotic but also some common ones. I think what fascinated Aro about my ability is that I can create poisonous flowers that can knock out even the strongest of vampires out cold (I accidentally knocked him out the first month I was here for 5 days straight). And that was already 5 months ago since that “accident”, from that Aro just let me be in the garden alone and doesn't dare interrupt me unless I request his audience.

With my short time here, I actually became close to Marcus. Even though it took a while to get him to talk to me, I caught him in the gardens one day and I saw he was overlooking a dying yellow lily. I instantly healed it, he turned to me slowly with a very small but very pleased look, he mentioned later that it was his late wife's favorite flower. He reminded me of Carlisle, we tend to talk a lot about plants and philosophy, we even had small arguments on certain philosophies. With Aro from the accident I'm still wary about him, he creeps me out sometimes and when he does that one laugh I don't know whether to hold in a laugh or wonder how such a laugh can come out of him. With the elite guards, we are slowly building trust with each other. Just the other day I managed to make Felix and Demetri laugh when I accidentally made an “erotic" looking plant. They reminded me of Emmett and Jasper. As with Jane and Alec, they are still wary of me, but I can see they are starting to warm up to me.

And how can I forget Caius? Having him as a mate has been interesting. I don't see him as often but when I do, he does a tactic of a quick and go. I could be doing something as reading a book in the King's private library when he appears and leaves a longing of his aura and then vanishes. It frustrates me so I decided to just ignore him.

Caius POV:

As soon as Jane came in with our “guest”, I felt a strange pull and was overcomed by the strong smell of roses. It was an addicting smell, I must know who it's coming from. I notice the human and internally I'm thinking “all this dramatic antics for this human? This Cullen boy was all set to end his immortal life because of her?” even I'm not that dramatic. I scanned the rest of the entourage and one of them reassembled as a human sized fairy, she’s almost the polar opposite of Jane. I didn't pay much attention to her for it being one of them caught me completely off guard. My mate… she's breathtaking, just from her looks I can tell she has an eye for art like me. Sadly her eyes are gold like the rest of the Cullen coven but that can easily be changed with time. It was not until Aro said she is Carlisle's twin sister that I lost it internally.

Why is life so unfair? Millenniums of existing and waiting for my mate to come along to find out she's the sister to the one person I absolutely despise . Out of everyone why a Cullen? The minute that “Vegetarian Doctor” left my respect for him vanished. But why is she avoiding eye contact with me? What has that Carlisle said about me? Great, I barely find out she's my mate and she hates me. Why would she hate me? I like to think I'm straightforward and speak my mind without hesitation, what is there not to like about me? I'm also quite dashing myself if I must say, I take a great deal of myself and I at least don't have that weird laugh Aro has.

As if on cue I heard Aro do that said strange laugh and I was snapped out of my thoughts to see Aro was holding her hand to read her thoughts, without a thought I hissed in displeasure. She's my mate, nobody can touch her but I. Have I always been possessive? Didn't think of myself as the possessive type, I'm just being reasonable. I must know what Aro has seen from her, I want to know everything there is to know about her, everything she has seen and done. Hopefully she has not been with another man or even a woman, I'm not judgemental, but it seems I also have a jealous side. What is wrong with me today? I am suddenly having all of these out of character personality, I blame her.

When she offered a deal, my anger took over and I said no deal, even if she said she was going to stay. Of course she's going to stay, she's my mate, in no way was I going to let her walk away after I waited millenniums for her. After my little outburst on her Aro said for Felix to take her to my chambers but the way she looked at him when she was grabbed by him made my eye twitch involuntary, I did that hiss sound and Felix immediately let go.

When the throne room was set for clear I had to go see her up close. When I arrived at my private chambers I noticed she was in a trance like state, as if reliving a past memory. Wanting to respect her I waited it out. She did after a while and that is when I striked first, with my speed I was in front of her gazing down on her, she's more beautiful up close. I think I might like the color amber now, the way her eyes are so full of light and warmth is so wonderful to witness. I leaned in thinking I might kiss her but I decided to tease her. I want her to be the one to break first even if I'm already secretly hopelessly falling for her.

Y/n POV

It has been a very confusing couple of weeks. I think I'm conflicted with whether I should keep ignoring Caius by not being flirty in return like he has been with me or should I just reciprocate the same behavior toward him. Trust me I do want to get out of this weird faze we are dealing with but the way that man is so bipolar sometimes is astonishing to witness. Our latest incident resulted in Felix and Demetri carrying me out of the library while Aro and Marcus consulted with Caius. The funny thing is Caius walked in all suave and flirty.

“You know I always find it difficult to look at you without falling in love with you”

Not wanting to give him a satisfaction that his words made me feel a certain way, I brushed him off

“So don't look at me, it's that simple”

“That simple? Have you no idea that when I look at you, all of the beautiful work you do in the gardens is put to shame with your beauty, how your voice is sweeter than the richest of blood, or how your eyes have conquered me?” he scoffs “As if that's simple amore”

I shut my book and set it on the table already getting sick and tired of his little suppose clever tactic to get me to confess my undying love to him

“You know you walk in here all suave and seductive or whatever you call this, and then you leave before I can say anything, in the 4 months I have been here, not once have you sat down with me and had a full on conversation with me”

“Well i'm a king, im busy, I have matters to take care of, things you would not know how to deal with”

Now it was my turn to scoff at him

“Busy? With what? I have talked with Marcus and he says you mostly are in the throne room looking at old text that I bet you have read at least a thousand times so far, your just avoiding me because i'm a Cullen, I am well aware you despise my brother and his coven”

That for sure shut him up but unfortunately what I said fuelled his anger.

“How dare you speak to me like that! Conspiring behind my back with my own brother! I have done nothing but be patient with you and been a great mate to you!?”

How can he say such a thing about being a great mate when there are times I don't see him for days and when he does appear it's only for a couple of minutes.

“You are unbelievable, you being a great mate to me? How can you say that when one) I don't even see you that often. two) you haven't even bothered to talk about actual things instead you seduce me and three) you just assume every time you flirt with me that I like it or I will return the favor. Well news flash I don't like it, maybe my brother was right about you”

Using his vampire speed he was up in my face in an instant glaring down on me, I might not be able to read his thoughts but just with his eyes you can see how pissed he is.

“Your brother!! Are you also conspiring with him about me behind my back! Some mate you are to me. I have been patient with you, I have been all sweet talk with you. How am I supposed to know what you like and don't like if you never speak up, I was starting to think you are mute”

I could now feel my own anger rising at his words

“Well maybe if you actually took time in your supposed busy day to sit down and talk to me I would start to open up to you and be more affectionate with you but I never say anything because you always vanish in a blink of an eye. Your so childish for doing that, hiding from someone who is a whole foot shorter than you, pathetic”

In all of my decades of existing as a Vampire, I have never been caught off guard until now. I was in a literal chokehold as I was kissed deeply by Caius. WAIT he's kissing me? H-how did this even happen? I was absolutely horrified by the turn of events. My reflexes finally kicked in I pushed him away roughly from me and I took several steps away from him. How dare he kiss me like that without my permission? Who the fuck does he think he is to even do such an action on me? To add to that, the freaking blonde had a small smirk but his eyes held a bit of pain and shock. I haven't the slightest idea of what to do next, I won't lie and say I didn't enjoy the kiss but I didn't want our first kiss to be like this.

We just stood in silence, I wanted to say something but I don't know what exactly, I must have been too deep in thought because when I looked up he was gone.

A/N: Ooooo cliffhanger, I had to do it, part two will come out at some point (to be honest I have not started to work on it yet but I have a basic idea of how it will end).

#caius volturi #caius imagine #volturi kings #caius x reader #volturi #caius volturi x reader #caius volturi imagine #twilight renaissance

24 notes · View notes

chaoticbardlady99 · 3 days

Text

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn! Astarion x F! Ghost Reader) MDNI 18+

Chapter Six: Four Clerics and a Vampire Spawn Enter a Tomb

Synposis: Astarion is struggling to adjust to not having you around for a little bit, but he amends this quickly. Astarion takes a moment to explore his own wants and needs while you are asleep.

CW: Mentions of torture, gore, m! Masturbation, Astarion being a lovesick mess I just had this, “oh Astarion and Tav were never together so he has no baseline for sexual touch.” And my brain went, “HE DOESN’T HAVE A BASELINE FOR SEXUAL TOUCH” and well- here we are. I hope you enjoy! I have put markers for when smut starts and stops for anyone who isn’t into it :)

Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. I did take the picture of ‘Birdie’ and Astarion on my PS5

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!

Chapter 5: Chapter 7: AO3

Astarion sits and stares at your broken, crumpled form. He had closed your eyes already and he had dug a hole to bury the cat that so graciously let you inhabit it for so long.

He recognizes the country bumpkin arrow as one of Leon’s. How could this happen? Astarion had searched the area high and low for signs of the Bastard and didn’t find a thing- where the fuck did he come from!?

Astarion lets himself cry as he buries the cat.

He can’t feel your presence around him and that terrifies Astarion to no end. He can’t lose you- you are both supposed to be ‘stuck’ with each other forever.

Astarion has hopes, dreams, and stupid fantasies about what kind of life you could live together once they were able to resolve your incorporeal person problems. He really just knows that, as long as he’s around you, life will be fun. Hard sometimes, but nothing that couldn’t be talked about or handled.

You have given him a rather large lesson in communication and the importance of it- after about six months, you had both celebrated Astarion directly telling you that something you said bothered him instead of lashing out.

It had been something stupid- he can’t even remember what it was. He was jealous of some man that you said was very attractive as the two of you peered over the railing of your inn in a small town around Amn.

That all feels so trivial now. You could be with anyone if it meant Astarion could have you back right now. He may kill the person and cry, but that’s beside the point. <

The sun is suddenly embracing him and Astarion feels his body become reinvigorated.

You never gave up on him or finding a cure so that he could walk in the sun. You also expressed having hopes and dreams amongst other what-nots. You wouldn’t give up this easily on him and he sure as hell won’t give up on you.

You have to be out there somewhere. If you aren’t around him that you had to be teleported somewhere else and if that means storming the Heavens- so be it.

Astarion immediately begins flipping through Volo’s book- rubbing the stupid pink tulle tutu material between his fingers.

It’s a stupid thing to keep- he admits it to himself all the time- but it was such a hilarious sight to see and you had said you hope one day he sees how much you mean to him. Astarion will mess with the crappy material whenever he needs the reminder that he has worth and you are busy doing something or sleeping. It’s helped him a significant amount during the night time- the happy memory soothing his soul.

And he desperately needs that reassurance and soothing right now.

Thankfully, Volo’s book wasn’t totally filled with bullshit- the back detailing a City that is not that far from his current location.

It’s about two and a half days away. That’s entirely doable and you are more than likely perfectly safe, exploring the city and, with any luck, you are hoping he’s trying to get back to you.

He can’t get himself to stop- not even for a moment. He finds himself absentmindedly humming various violin pieces you have played for him since you learned you could be an incorporeal person.

He feels border line delirious and he’s pretty fucking hungry if he’s being honest with himself- the creatures he’s finding as he goes aren’t filling enough, but he doesn’t have time to properly hunt.

You would be worried and upset with him for not taking care of himself, but he won’t feel okay again until you are back in his sight and within arms length again.

The trek is horribly boring- he has become so accustomed to even your little snores during travel that the silence is uncomfortable and wrong. Astarion can’t even begin to imagine how his heart would feel if he tried to fall asleep and stay asleep without you near.

The hour he tried to trance out of sheer exhaustion had been full of every nightmare imaginable, but it was a dream of Leon killing you- taking away the only person in the whole world that Astarion would gladly lay his life on the line for.

He should have killed Leon the moment he suggested you become a sacrifice for him to get Victoria back. Astarion would sooner go back in time sacrifice him and the other spawn than hand you over if that’s what it took to keep you safe.

At least in that reality, you could both be together and he would never have to worry about losing you because he wouldn’t have to worry about fucking Leon.

He just knows Leon is involved- he can feel the irritation in his bones grow with each minute he walks.

Astarion races through the forest- being mindful enough to not go barreling through some poor soul just minding it’s own business.

For once, he isn’t looking for a fight. He just wants to get to you and leave- get far away from this Gods awful place and begin your lives together somewhere far, far away.

The second day feels even worse than the first- twenty four hours was far too long and he was growing more worried by the second stint of his journey.

What if Leon finds you before Astarion does?

Astarion is worried that Leon will convince you to sacrifice yourself for his daughter if he gets to you first- something he knows you would do without a second thought.

Astarion finds himself begging the universe that, for once, he is good enough for someone to stay for him- wait for him.

Worth someone being a little bit selfish for once.

What if he isn’t? What kind of life could a transient vampire spawn offer you? Would you willingly remain a ghost if you had the choice or would you pass on?

He attempts to trance again when his thoughts become overwhelming. He continues, however, to refuse sleeping for very long or take the time to properly hunt.

He knows what his needs are and he will take the time later. However, time isn’t a luxury he thinks he can afford right now.

Astarion needs you- he’s doing this for himself more than anything.

His second hour long trance is much better. He dreams of you in his arms, held tightly to his chest- your hair fanning out on a plush pillow while he leaves gentle kisses on your face and you giggle happily. You are here again and everything is okay.

Astarion wakes up crying when he realizes it’s only a trance- a trick of the mind. His lips yearn to know how your skin feels underneath them.

Astarion needs you back by his side yesterday. One day was unacceptable as is, but two? His world feels tilted.

He feels like he can breathe again when he spies the massive Watch Tower in the distance- the black, oddly shaped tower looms over the other buildings and it’s presence demands to be seen.

His feet lead him through the gates of the City of Manifest and he makes a B-line to the Hall of Farewells. There are people everywhere enjoying their loved ones, but no sign of you yet.

Astarion goes to the front of the line- ready to knock whoever over so that he can talk to the teller. Your life very well could be in danger- Astarion hasn’t seen any signs of Leon in the Underdark, but you can never be too careful and that arrow was definitely one of his shitty homemade ones.

“Hey! You can’t just cu-“

Astarion gives the man a menacing, unblinking smile. The man gulps nervously.

“You were saying?”

“Ha, uh I was just saying, go right on ahead! You can cut me anywhere, anytime.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my Boy,” Astarion says with a sneer, “otherwise you may not live to see the light of day.”

A dawning realization of horror crosses the man’s face.

“That’s not what I-“

“NEXT!”

Astarion waves, “that’s my cue- I will find your delicious self later.”

He snickers to himself after he turns around- the man was positively green-, but when he goes to look down next to him to be chastised by you as you begrudgingly laugh- he’s reminded once again of his current twisted reality.

It’s only been 56 hours and he misses you so much- there is a massive hole in his chest with every step he takes and he is praying to every God that you are here.

“Hello! Welcome to the Hall of Farewells,” an elderly woman stands behind the counter, “who are you looking for today, young man?”

If you were here? You would have busted up laughing.

“Young man, my ass!”

He can’t help, but smile slightly to himself as a tear begins to fall from his eye.

“I’m looking for Althaeastra Rothwell? She goes by Birdie,” he gestures to show your height, “about this tall, beautiful, kind, hilarious, plays the violin really well.”

“Well- that is more than enough information for me to help you!” The elderly woman states while beaming, “she must be a very special woman and how lucky of her to have such a wonderful partner.”

“I’m the lucky one, actually,” the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them.

The woman smiles even brighter and Astarion has to try very hard to keep himself from blushing like a smitten school boy.

Good Gods, he thinks, stop being a grieving, emotional mess and focus. You can be weird and dissect your feelings later once you find Birdie.

The woman claps her hand and performs some kind of magic on a book that flips pages with the intensity of a storm. Names are jumping from the pages- sorting through nicknames, letters, dates of death, etc. until a bright DING alerts the elderly woman that the spell is complete.

“Ah yes! Miss Rothwell! She hasn’t been here too long- only a couple days,” the woman muses, “hmm well, it looks like your brother already went off to find her. My guess is that you will find her with him.”

Astarion feels his entire body become significantly colder than it already is.

No- Leon couldn’t have bested him this time. How did Leon get here ahead of him? He did so many perimeter checks before entering the Catacombs and Leon was nowhere to be found. There should be absolutely no reason for him to be here- unless he had planned to kill you so you are a ghost again? That would make sense and it would force you two apart.

“Which brother?”

The woman cocks her head at him and then a realization seems to be forming in her mind.

You weren’t supposed to be going anywhere with Leon and it’s likely this woman just directed you to your actual death.

“His name is… Leon,” she reads the name uneasily, “she wrote only your name in the registry- specifically put ‘WAITING FOR ASTARION’. Brayden tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. Your brother came in shortly after and checked the registry.”

Astarion damn near loses it- screaming profanities inside his head and desperately trying to keep from exploding all together. He can’t protect you from prison so he needs to play nice.

Afterwards? Well, let’s just say Astarion may be creating a list of people he wants to Falcon punch in the throat after you are safe and with him again. You most likely won’t approve, but he told you not to go wandering off with strangers! You do not have the combat experience or street smarts to be able to protect yourself.

Astarion goes to ask another question when a man comes racing in with a very mutilated, but living ghost. An insignia with a boot print and compass rose is on the front. The man’s black, curly locks are mangled and blue stained.

The older man is hysterical- begging someone to save his son as pieces of him begin to fall away and disappear. Astarion feels a wave of panic go through his body.

“Brayden,” the elderly woman gasps, “Gods help us!”

A group of clerics descends on the men and tries to help the man who was evidently giving you a tour. Another group goes racing out the door in the direction the body was found. Astarion makes note of this “Tombyard District” and begins to leave.

His body, however, freezes as he approaches the young Ghost laying out on the floor- wheezing painfully and his eyes meet Astarion’s a look of recognition. You must have talked about Astarion a lot.

Brayden’s eyes seem to scream back at Astarion, “she’s in danger! You need to save her!”

Astarion would know that magic and knife work anywhere- Leon got to you and this poor man probably tried to defend you. It disgusts Astarion that he is grateful for a perfect stranger, but anyone who has attempted to keep you safe is okay in his books.

He will not lose you to this place and he will make sure Brayden’s suffering was not in vain or yours for that matter.

Astarion leaves the Hall of Farewells- realizing that the more he sits there and listens to that man wail for his adult son to stay with him, the more and more hopeless and scared Astarion becomes.

Leon was Cazador’s best hunter, but it was because he was an aggressive meathead about the whole thing. It irritated the piss out of everyone. He wasn’t subtle and was more than happy to swoop in and steal your mark if it meant he could get back to the Palace faster.

It doesn’t take very long for Astarion to track Leon, but he’s alarmed when the faint scent of his other siblings begins to tickle his nose. The guard at the entrance of the Tombyard warned him against going in this late, but Astarion has a feeling he doesn’t have much time.

He stole a Ring of Manifesting on the way there so that after he finds you, you can both run straight to Waterdeep. Astarion had used one of his sending spells detailing what is going on to Tav and Gale just in case you both go MIA, but they are expecting both of you to be there. Admittedly, Astarion is quite proud of himself- you are always on him for not having a plan and this time he actually has a plan!

The smell of rotting flesh and the sound of people crying over their loved ones rings through his ears. There are multiple funerals occurring at once- mostly Drow and a few Humans.

The area is not cozy nor is it an aesthetically pleasing place to rest, the buildings look like warehouses for the bored and lonely and the statues along the streets are even graveyard-esque. It makes him uncomfortable- he doesn’t necessarily care for graveyards anymore. Not that he ever did, really.

There are alleyways here and there, but only one has Leon’s scent and the other scent is Lavender and something else he can’t pick up on. It has to be you which makes Astarion feel even more sick.

What did he tell you about following random strangers places!? One time you followed a man with white hair because you thought it was Astarion and you had been missing for an hour and a half.

Now you have been missing for probably two Gods damn days!

The scent leads him to an alleyway and the stench of rot becomes worse- Astarion can practically feel the pull of the weave in the air and the dark art of Necromancy.

Wonderful, just wonderful.

Astarion creeps along the wall- grateful that he listened to your suggestion about wearing solely black armor. It made sneaking around much easier and if he’s about to face a necromancer without a Cleric around then he’s going to need every advantage he can get.

A few new scents are in the air- much cleaner than the heavy must that threatens to suffocate him.

Think before you act, Astarion reminds himself, being irrational is not going to bring Birdie back to you any faster.

As he comes around a corner as slowly as he possibly can, he pulls his daggers out with the pointed ends against someone’s throat- he is met with a set of piercing blue eyes and earthy brown eyes. Both individuals appear to be clerics and they both gesture for Astarion to be quiet- that they are not a threat. Two other people become more visible to him.

Astarion recognizes the individual symbols on their chest as Uhanam- a lawful neutral God that is about law and intelligence-, Durann- a Lawful Good God that is about healing and listening to laws, and Aluvan- protector of Ghosts. He doesn’t recognize the other God, but she has the same symbol as the poor Cleric who had been severely injured trying to protect you.

A door appears further down an alley and a man that smells of Undeath with a beating heart comes walking down the alley. Astarion recognizes him as a Shadar Kai almost instantly.

Much to his irritation, the individuals let him pass by them, but he watches one use sleight of hand to maneuver the keys off his belt. The Shadar Kai doesn’t even so much as flinch. It’s rather impressive and Astarion enjoys the shit eating grin the Wood Elf flashes at their fellow clerics.

You would really like these people. Astarion will like them as long as none of them attempt to take you away from him.

“Alright,” one of the clerics, a blonde halfling woman, releases a sigh of relief before continuing her whispering, “hello- are you friend or foe?”

“Depends,” he whispers back, “are you going to kill everyone-including the people they have held captive- or are you on a rescue mission.”

“Rescue and revenge mission- actually,” the half- elf woman with the same insignia as Brayden says, “they tried to kill my fellow Cleric, Brayden- my husband in fact, and they kidnapped the person he was showing around. We just hope she’s still alive- this Lich doesn’t hang onto people very long.”

Of course it’s a fucking Lich.

“For all of your sake,” Astarion snarls, “you better hope she is alive.”

“Your loved one, I take it?” the halfing says.

Astarion nods- they need to know there is someone here for you and if they so much as look at you funny, he will kill them with absolutely no remorse to show for it.

“That settles it then,” the Wood Elf says, “let’s go save some folks and kick some ass!”

It was like being around Karlach- the cleric has a goofy grin and an even goofier vibe.

Astarion follows them- trailing behind so that he can take more time to search and see you before it becomes a bloodbath.

You just have to find her and get out of here, Astarion repeats like a mantra in his head, she is alive, she is safe-ish, she is okay. Everything is going to be fine because it has to be fine.

The place is filled to the brim with various undead creatures haunting it’s halls. Some creatures he has never even seen before and others look like they are stitched together with mismatched parts.

Astarion tries to swallow his panic- no sign of you yet so you may just be caged some-

“NO PLEASE!” your voice screams through the air and the sound of you struggling against someone rings alongside your voice, “PLEASE! I- DON’T WANT TO BECOME THAT- PLEASE!!!!!!”

You cry out in pain and Astarion begins barrelling past the Clerics who are trying to stop him, but they can figure it out. He needs to get to you.

Astarion pushes past every individual who comes by him- some try to attack him and he is quick to rebuke them or kill them with one blow. Your screams are becoming more and more panicked- you sound like you are fighting for your life and Astarion wishes you were aware that he is right here- nothing will happen to you.

He just needs to find you and then you never have to come to this horrible place ever again.

“ASTARION!” your cries are coming from down the hall, “ASTARION, HELP! PLEASE!”

Your voice has begun to sound gargled, but he knows he’s on the right floor- the scent of Lemongrass hanging in the air like a blessing.

When he finally finds the room you are in, he watches as some kind of magic tries to contort you into something else entirely. You are fighting to prevent it- tears streaming down either side of your face.

“Astarion- please hurry,” your anger and your voice being reduced to a tearful whisper, “I’m not ready to die.”

And he’s not ready for you to. In fact, Astarion feels positively homicidal.

Within a millisecond, Astarion is shoving his daggers between the Lich’s ribs and it cries out in surprise- Astarion uses an arrow of Thunder and sends the Lich crashing into the wall- one of it’s arms dislocating in the process.

The Shadar Kai descend on him and you struggle against your restraints- trying to get away from the ones that are trying to hold you back down and keep him from getting to you. They are unlatching your restraints and dragging you towards another hall. The Lich waiting like a coward behind it’s soldiers.

“ASTARION!” you scream, “BEHIND YOU!”

He sends another Shadar Kai to the Shadowfell thanks to your warning, only to have one of the Shadar Kai holding you cut your throat, an angry growl leaving Astarion,and he cuts through every creature his blade can get it’s sharp edge on.

A crash from behind him and the horrific creature that comes racing into the room distracts Astarion and he’s grateful that the Clerics had caught up with him because he wouldn’t have been able to save himself from the oncoming Ghoul running towards him otherwise.

He makes eye contact with Dalyria, but it’s not her eyes. The sight of his siblings and their fate makes Astarion feel ill- the Lich gestures and suddenly they are collapsing to the ground in a ball of red magic. The blood curdling scream of anger that leaves Astarion’s mouth scares him.

The Lich looks like he’s about to shit himself.

Not only had this horrible, unnatural creature taken you and harmed you significantly- it had destroyed his family. The only one he knows and remembers. The only people in the whole world who know what it means to suffer just as well as he does.

The creature gets back up and the Lich doesn’t have time to dodge before one of it’s unnaturally strong hands grabs it’s face and sends it’s flying away from the hall- it’s skull begins to crack the moment he makes impact with the wall.

The Lich uses shadow step to retreat down one of the hallways as his siblings run at him again- looking rather pleased that they chased it off.

He feels angry- it won’t be safe for you or his siblings here or anywhere with that Lich fucking off. Astarion wants to go after it- desperately and end this once and for all, but he knows he can’t.

Instead, he returns his attention back to the battle and getting to you as you continue to struggle against your captors. He’s over there in seconds- uses Dimension Door to put you in a safe corner and then using Misty Step to get back into battle. The creature that is his siblings stand protectively in front of you- waiting to destroy anyone who dare harm you. Their eyes meet his and they nod- we’ve got her.

He tries not to cry from sentiment alone- they care about him enough to keep you safe so he can focus on killing the other enemies in the room and Astarion never thought he would see the day where that would ever happen. It’s a shame it’s probably too late now to try to start over with each other again.

The remainder of the creatures are destroyed and Astarion personally mutilates the individual who decided cutting your throat was a fantastic idea.

Once it all calms down and everyone is dead- the Clerics lock the hallway door where the Lich had run away and they gesture for the mix and match of his siblings to follow as they exit the building.

The Aluvan Priestess, the Halfing, is the one to assure them that they would reverse their condition, they’ve apparently done it before and he hears your choked sigh of relief. He’s surprised to see the monstrous versions of his siblings look at you with hopeful eyes and you back at them.

It must have been a horrible 56 hours.

Brayden’s cleric in arms and wife comes over and heals your throat, your wrists, and offers you a clean outfit. You are shaking as you take the clothes and you look at the woman with your lower lip trembling.

“Is Brayden okay? He was trying to keep me safe.”

The woman nods and smiles, “he’s in rough shape, but nothing he won’t be able to come back from- thank Wyst.”

That seems to make you cry harder and Astarion is quick to scoop you up into his arms now that the initial shock of everything he has just seen has worn off. You cling to his neck, your arms wrapped around him tightly, and he just rubs soft circles into your back.

“It’s safe now, Birdie,” he whispers, “I will never ever let anyone harm you again.”

*****************************

It’s later in the evening when you seem to finally be more yourself again, but Astarion can tell that something horrible happened to you at the hand of the Lich. He is refraining from asking- not wanting to upset you or push you too hard.

You are drinking the honey mead in your hand heavily- eating bread and cheese along side it. Ghosts can’t get hung over so you took it as an opportunity to try to drown out the events of the last couple days.

It’s when you look at him with tearful eyes that he knows you are truly, honest to Gods suffering.

“Darling?” He gently takes your hand in his, “what is it?”

You look up at the ceiling with a trembling lip before looking him in the eyes again.

“He cut me open,” you choke, “he- he took out my organs and put them in other bodies before putting them back in mine.

“Then he was going t- to,” you shake as you try to get through your next sentence, “he was going to turn me into a Necroplasm. A horrible creature only made of bone and ectoplasm. Lifeless; thoughtless.”

Your face is back in your hands and Astarion is feeling an incredibly confusing amount of emotions right now.

He wants to hunt down that lich and destroy the bastard limb by limb, over and over again until he finally shows the last bit of mercy he could- breaking the phylactery.

But he also wants to get out of the City of Manifest entirely. His siblings are all separated again- temporarily Ghosts, but incredibly happy to not be melded together while the Clerics search for the remainder of their bodies to reconstruct. He has no idea how it works, but apparently the Gods over manifest are much kinder than the ones who dominate the rest of Faerun.

Leon is the only one who hasn’t come back, but he’s dead to Astarion either way. He was quite impressed with the amount of damage you had been able to inflict. Once he teaches you how to use a dagger, you could truly be unstoppable.

However, that’s for a later date when you become settled.

Gale sent him two tickets to teleport to Waterdeep and you seemed to be relieved that you wouldn’t be staying here- you want to come back, but after you feel more confident in your ability to protect yourself.

Tav and Gale are getting married in a few weeks- Waterdeep will be good for both of you. It will be familiar and comfortable.

You can stay together in the room you usually occupy, he will keep watch if that’s what you need to sleep for a while.

Anything to make you feel safe again.

“I feel so violated,” you sniff and laugh sadly to yourself, “I have the worst luck. The first touch I receive in three and a half centuries and it’s while I’m being cut open and fit to others like a puzzle piece- like a thing.

“I could feel it,” you wipe your eyes, “every horrible thing those people felt before they died. I felt their love and misery for the people they were never going to see again-“

This was not how Astarion wanted this reunion to go- Leon is dead, but it would never feel like enough.

Leon took honest, innocent moments you deserved to have and tainted them- all for something that was never going to happen anyway.

A Lich is a Lich and he’s going to hunt the bastard down- you were just a victim of opportunity in his eyes.

“I wish I had gotten there faster,” Astarion whispers, “this isn’t how I imagined this going.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, wiping your eyes.

Does he tell you that he envisioned at least kissing you? If you wanted? Now it feels like it would be pressuring you.

“It’s not imp-“

“No- enough about me,” you say, “I want to know what you’ve been doing and how life in the sun has been!”

Astarion smiles softly, “there hasn’t been a life in the sun without you. I barely noticed- I was focused on getting here to you.”

“Wait, really?” he nods in affirmation, you smile widely at that, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who missed hanging around.”

You look so happy looking at him- you are wearing his shirt since your own clothes had been practically destroyed and the clothing that was lended to you was uncomfortable.

“I’m going to wash my face and all the ick from these last couple days off real quick- I’ll be back.”

He couldn’t help but miss you- even a room away when you go to wash off. Astarion had braided your hair back afterwards.

Every part of you is beautiful and lovely- he was so scared he lost you without ever getting to see what would happen between the two of you. He hates how gushy and mushy he’s become over the last two days- at this rate, he’s just going to embarrass himself when you ultimately don’t return his feelings.

“Be my date for Tav and Gale’s wedding,” he blurts out of nowhere.

Nice going panty dropper- you call that romantic?

“What?”

You literally said one sentence and blew up the whole thing, Astarion scolds himself.

Astarion clears his throat, “I couldn’t think of a better plus one nor anyone I would want to suffer through the cheesy affair with.”

“Yes!” You exclaim, jumping up, “one hundred thousand times yes! Oh my gosh!!!!!! We will need to go shopping or thieving- who cares- I GET TO GO TO A WEDDING WITH MY FAVORITE PERSON!!!!!”

Oh thank Gods.

Your once melancholy mood has shifted and Astarion feels a warm glow in his chest. He can already think of what cut would fit you best, what colors, how your hair should look, etc.

You ask him so many questions- what color does he think would be best? Will you match with him? What color would be best for both of them? And “GODS ABOVE HOW WILL I DO MY HAIR AND MAKE UP!? I’m out of practice!”

Oh and you made it very clear- absolutely no tulle or crowns.

You both somehow decide on lavender and silver. Astarion figures he’ll wear silver with lavender designs and you will do the opposite.

“What if I don’t remember how to dance!?” You say, mortified, “I’ll embarrass us both!!!”

“Oh the horror- to be forced to save my darling damsel in distress from tripping over her own heels,” he teases, pushing a stray hair out of your face, “I’m sure I have more than enough dancing experience for both of us.”

You look at him and bite your lip- a little bit of worry in your eyes.

“What is it, my Sweet?”

He struggles to stop his smile at the nice blush that courses under your skin at the term of endearment.

“I- I know you hate parties,” you start cautiously, “are you sure you want to dance and everything? We don’t have to if it would make you unhappy. Just being there with you would be more than enough. Unfortunately I can’t offer not going, I think Tara would murder me.”

Well that is… unexpected. Astarion’s body feels like it’s radiating with happiness and affection- you are quite literally perfect.

Pull yourself together.

“I’ll be fine, my Dear,” he says with a slight dismissive wave of his hand, “besides, this is my first party as a free man- who knows? Maybe I’ll become a party fiend.”

“Ha! I don’t think you like people enough to do that.”

“But I like you enough to,” he states, “so if you would like to go to them from time to time- I have no qualms.”

Gods when did he become such a romantic?

You, on the other hand, look like you might explode and he can’t tell why, but he hopes he hasn’t pushed it too far. Astarion is quickly reassured when a coy, mischievous smile passes over your face.

“I promise I won’t make you go to too many parties,” you tease, “one too many and one might end up being a funeral.”

“Ah see, that’s my kind of party!”

“Oh my Gods,” you shake your head, giggling, and put it in both of your hands, “you don’t even like cemeteries.”

“You don’t need a cemetery for a funeral if you are creative enough, Darling,” he smiles cheekily, “I do put the fun in funeral after all.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile at his Gods awful pun- he learned it from Shadowheart on their adventures and he loves to sprinkle it into conversations.

“Fair.”

Somehow, you eventually end up asleep in his arms in the plush Inn bed like he had dreamed about the other night. You snore softly as Astarion holds you closely to him- making a point of looking at the door and windows frequently enough so there aren’t any surprise visitors.

Astarion has never actually cuddled with anyone (willingly, at least). Anyone who’s ever been in a bed with him has been condemned to becoming Vampire spawn (he almost wishes they had all just been dead). It was just sex, nothing more or less. Sure people offered, but it never felt right.

This? This feels right and like you were made for him. It’s a miracle truly- Intimacy without any sexual touch and he has the choice to be there, curled up around you.

It feels heavenly- better than his trances could have ever imagined.

You are both the same temperature so you almost feel warm to the touch. Your eyes are moving back and forth as you dream, he is relieved to see a content smile on your face.

Astarion is prepared to be there for you if you have nightmares. You have taught him that just having someone to comfort you is enough. He just wishes you didn’t experience any of it in the first place, but he won’t be keeping you too far out of reach or unguarded so hopefully it will never happen again.

Eventually sleep takes Astarion too and he’s grateful for the somewhat peaceful rest- until it turns into a full blown fucking sex dream.

Astarion tries not to jolt you awake- somehow aware enough of his surroundings to know you are still there. You are still fast asleep- dawn is coming and Astarion is not, which could very well be a problem if you wake up while he’s hard.

He sneaks away to the washroom- making sure to lock the door.

He will just take a bath, cool himself off, and then go back to bed for a cuddle. It’ll be like this never happened.

(Smut begins)

He’s never actually masturbated and there is a significant amount of weariness when he thinks about the idea. Sure he’s done it for show, but never in a private, alone moment.

Astarion has basically been celibate for the last nine months and of course, now that you are a ghost person again, his libido decides to rear it’s ugly head.

He doesn’t even know if you actually want him that way!

The water is lukewarm and Astarion leans back against the tub- willing his hard on to go away already. It feels almost impossible to forget his trance- the way your pretty mouth looked around his cock, the way you keened when he filled you for the first time, the dance that takes the act from slow and romantic to something else entirely.

Wild, passionate- unrehearsed.

Astarion wraps his hands around his cock- desperate for any release he can get at this point. He isn’t going to be able to will this trance or these desires away and he is entirely in control of the act- if he becomes uncomfortable or begins to dissociate, he can stop.

“You don’t have to sleep with these people,” you reminded him softly, “Hells- you don’t have to do any of it at all if you don’t want to! Even if you are both naked and you’re already inside the person- you can stop. A good person, a person worthy of you, will respect your needs and be understanding.”

Astarion can stop. You helped him with this realization nine or ten odd months ago.

He strokes himself slowly at first, trying to mimic the movements of the trance- starting with your mouth. You are inexperienced and Astarion imagines teaching you how to suck him off- your wide, beautiful eyes looking up at him eagerly as he praises you for being such a good girl for him.

His breath hitches when he runs his thumb over the head and applying a bit of pressure over his slit, his hips bucking upward and his brain paints the beautiful picture of him thrusting into your mouth- guiding your movements by grasping your hair as gently as he possibly can as he gets closer and closer to his peak.

In this fantasy- you moan around his mouth and you are touching yourself while taking his whole length until he hits the back of your throat. You wear his shirt like you are now- nipples pert, your breasts swaying as he thrusts into you. Your eyes are lustful, hazy, and wanting.

Astarion’s head goes back by instinct- a breathy moan escaping his mouth and he’s thinking about what it might be like to be inside you. What it would be like to finally connect with someone he adores intimately.

He imagines exploring every single inch of you- finding what makes you wet and wanting for him. Astarion will ruin you for any other lover- his tongue teasing your clit and lapping up your juices like a man dying of thirst.

Astarion wants- no, needs- you to be crying out his name and telling him how you will only ever be his like he will only ever be yours.

(Smut ends)

He reaches his peak much faster than he anticipated- the release feeling like heaven. Astarion pants as he stares up at the ceiling, entirely blissed out.

Now that was incredible. He can understand why people enjoy it from time to time.

His mind continues to think of you and it gets caught on the words the elderly woman had said earlier today- about how you were lucky to have him and vice versa. Astarion let’s his brain indulge for a millisecond before locking the thought back into the “we aren’t going to talk about this right now, self!” box.

Althaeastra “Birdie” Ancunín. She would want a nice, but simple ring- nothing gaudy, he pauses his thoughts, or maybe she needs one simple ring and one gaudy one. Especially with her ability to pick up music again. What if she has to dress especially nice for an occasion? The ring should at least be able to tell people all the way out in the courtyard that she is spoken for.

He pushes his guilty pleasure thoughts aside. You are his dearest and closest companion- he will not screw that up by making you feel like you have to be in a relationship with him or like you have to jump into something right away. You just started your life and why would Astarion be your top pick? He’s a disaster- with or without you.

Well, the bliss was wonderful while it lasted. Now he’s just sad.

After cleaning up- Astarion finds himself leaning against the door frame, jealous of the warm rays of sun that get to kiss your face first thing this morning. You are still asleep and don’t stir when Astarion climbs back into bed behind you.

One day, he will tell you his feelings, but for now? Astarion is going to try to go back to sleep.

***********************************************************************

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x you #bg3 #karlach #astarion x f! reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #astarion fanfiction #astarion smut

22 notes · View notes