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chrollogy · 8 months ago

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iv. NEW YEAR BLUES

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: v. Misunderstandings | series masterlist

synopsis: After sending a risky text to Atsumu, you avoid your phone the next morning like a ticking time bomb until curiosity gnaws at your skin but it doesn’t take long before you cave. Thus, with a bated breath, you brace yourself for his response.

chapter content warning: college au, angst heh, shrine visit (poor depiction), implied alcohol use, tipsy reader (maybe a dumbass too), miya atsumu is an even bigger dumbass, hinata mention LMAO, mutual pining, slow burn, requited unrequited love, miscommunication (it just got even worse. rip.), not beta read.

word count: 4.1k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. woweeee one more chapter and then we’re done ehehehehe >:)

It was quarter to two.

The mellow hum of Hyōgo’s early winter morning settled into Atsumu’s bones like a pair of invisible shackles, holding him hostage between the borders of sleep, and sobriety. On other nights, it lulled him to slumber without any problem but not tonight, not when his mind was plagued with thoughts of you.

Out of all times, his brain decided to recount every single moment with you from the trip. First, it was the happy, mellow memories of the first day—stolen glances full of yearning, his crimson-tinged cheeks, and fluttering heartbeats, and then came the uncomfortable haze that drove a wedge between the two of you. God, Atsumu didn’t even want to think about that moment on the boat.

Atsumu was fully aware that you knew his response was a complete lie but could you really blame him? What difference would it have made if he said ‘yes’? At the end of the day, what he felt for you was one-sided, nothing was going to change the fact that you only viewed him as a friend.

In fact, maybe this wall between the two of you was the cure to his yearning heart—a space to help him move on, and forget the familiarity of loving you.

As Atsumu’s caramel gaze bore into the ceiling above, tracing the moonlit glow that seeped from the window, his phone illuminated the dark room for a brief second, a tinge of blue catching his attention.

Mindlessly reaching for his device that lay on the wooden nightstand, he let out a tired sigh, honeyed eyes squinting at the sudden brightness that invaded his vision. Letting his eyes adjust, Atsumu carefully read the notification banner on the lock screen.

It was a message from you. His heart violently stuttered. Thank goodness for the tight grip he had or else his face would’ve been aching from his phone falling on it.

As if on instinct, Atsumu sat up, clearly sobered up from the fact that you texted him at almost 2 AM. Were you perhaps also having trouble sleeping? Atsumu wondered if your mind was also filled with thoughts the past few days—thoughts of him. He could only fantasise.

The blonde positioned himself against his headboard before clicking onto your message with a shaky digit, and a thundering heartbeat.

It was an absurdly long paragraph.

‘hey. i know you’re asleep right now, and you’ll probably see this in the morning but whatever :) . .’

Atsumu swallowed thickly. For some reason, he felt oddly nervous about this message but at the same time, anticipated the context behind it. Maybe you were trying to salvage whatever was left of the friendship? Or maybe you just wanted to cuss him out with a long, detailed message.

Nonetheless, Atsumu kept reading,

‘. . . i’m not going to beat around the bush or anything so i’ll get straight to the point. i like you. i’ve had feelings for you since highschool and i know it’s cowardly of me to confess over text but i don’t mind being called one.

god, i cannot even remember the feeling of my heart acting normal around you. my heart is so painfully familiar to yearning for you that it hurts. whenever i see you, i just can’t seem to act right. i hate how my heart stutters, how my cheeks heat, how my body suddenly doesn’t know how to act normally. it’s bittersweet because i feel guilty for falling in love with a close friend but also i’m not ashamed of it because you’re so amazing, and caring.

i cherish you a lot, tsumu, i really do and i know you do too but i don’t think it's in the way i want you to. i’m not pressuring you for an answer or anything because i already know you don’t like me back but that’s okay. i don’t know what will happen after this but just know that i really admire our friendship.

like i said before, you don’t have to reply to this. i just really needed to get all the pent up feelings out of my chest so i can finally move on :) just give me some time to be myself again.’

One word. Speechless. Miya Atsumu was speechless.

There were so many goddamn emotions that ran through every single fibre of his body to the point where his brain couldn’t process it all. Atsumu didn’t know whether to be ecstatic with the fact that—holy shit—you reciprocated his feeling, or to be frustrated with the fact that you thought it was one-sided.

His heart hammered against his chest, the pounding of it reaching his very ears. He was so fucking nervous that he breathed through his parted lips, honeyed eyes re-reading every single word you typed. The winter chill that filled his room went awfully warm, mirroring the crimson tinge that painted his cheeks.

So he was the one you were talking about back then; that drunken confession where you told him you had feelings for a certain someone.

Atsumu didn’t know what to do—didn’t know what to respond.

In all honesty, you put him in a very tough spot. How was he supposed to respond after confessing your feelings but also stating that you did not, in fact, sought an answer. Not to mention how you practically put words in his mouth.

Who were you to decide if Atsumu reciprocated your feelings or not?

The blonde took a deep, shaky breath, palms sweating as he gripped the device. Atsumu knew he needed to respond with a calculated mind—as tempting as it was, he wasn’t going to let his heart lead this time.

Not when his mind painfully reminded him of the conversation you two had,

“I don’t even think I’m ready for a relationship.” “So . . yer jus’ gonna confess for the sake of movin’ on? Even if he likes ya back?”

He vividly remembered the way you solemnly nodded to his question, a sad, subtle smile lingering on your lips as if to reassure yourself that you’ll be okay.

Atsumu closed his eyes, letting the sounds of crickets chirping outside consume him. The gears in his head turned, and turned, working overtime to come up with a response. He had to be sensible, whatever he replied was surely going to change the course of your bond, forever.

Though, there was only one thing he knew—to respect your decision.

The morning came rather quickly, early rays peeked through your window, mellow hues of yellow, and orange painted the ivory walls of your room to cast a warm, inviting glow—a reminder of the impending day ahead.

As you reached for your device to check the time, you were greeted with a black, unlit screen, your sleepy reflection staring back. Oh, that’s right. You had turned it off right after sending that risky text message to Atsumu, wanting nothing to do with it.

Vivid memories of last night came flooding in, filling every corner of your mind. All the words you typed down, the feelings that came with it, the hammering of your heart—it came back to you, and now, you were twice as nervous. You wondered if Atsumu had already read your message, even more curious about his response—if he did send one back.

Just thinking about it made your head dizzy. There was a ray of hope tucked neatly at the bottom of your heart, it wasn’t big but you held onto it like it was the most precious thing.

You let out a sigh, and tossed the device on your bed before getting ready to brave the winter day ahead. There were four more days before the new year rolled around—how you were going to spend the last two days heavily depended on Atsumu’s response.

It was inevitable. Every now, and then, your eyes mindlessly wandered to the device that lifelessly lay atop your sheets, its blackened screen inviting you to turn it on. You turned your room upside down for anything to distract you from the silent beckoning of your device—from re-reading your favourite manga to blankly staring at the ceiling above.

There was even an urge to read a syllabus from one of your new classes this coming semester.

Four hours. You lasted four dreadful hours before curiosity settled into your skin like a painful bite—no matter how much you ignored it, it seemed to worsen.

And with a hammering heartbeat, and sweaty palms, you turned it on. Patiently waiting, you watched as it displayed the brand logo, and then a few seconds before it loaded your lock screen. A heartbeat passed as the device showed several notifications from last night, and this morning. Disregarding them, you scrolled straight down until Atsumu’s message notification came into view.

You sucked in a breath.

The thread of messages between you two quickly popped up as you clicked on the notification. Bracing yourself, your eyes wander down to the start of his response—god, it was equally as long.

It was sent at 2 AM. It made you even more nervous after realising that Atsumu was indeed still awake when you had sent the message.

‘hey :) first of all, i’m very thankful that you had the courage to bring this up to me so please don’t call yourself a coward, i know how hard it is to try and confess to someone. i find it admirable, really. i think it’s brave of you to decide something like this.

secondly, i am over the moon after finding out you have feelings for me. it feels such an honour to be loved by a close friend so thank you again for letting me know. like you said, i, too, cherish our friendship. i don’t know what will become of our bond after this but just know that i am very glad to be friends with you.

thirdly, as you’ve mentioned in your message, i don’t feel the same way. .’

You stopped reading to stare at the ceiling above, a foolish smile plastered upon your lips—it conveyed anything but happiness.

Oh.

So, you were right. Atsumu didn’t feel the same way.

That little bundle of hope deep inside your heart disappeared, dissolving into nothing but what seemed like distant memories—memories of your saccharine moments together.

God, you already had a feeling he didn’t like you back but why did it feel like a hard slap on the face? As if reeling you back into dull reality after a haze of fantasy. This was what you wanted, right? To confess with rejection in mind so you could finally move on. But now that the answer lay right before you on a silver platter, why didn’t you want to move on?

You mustered every single bit of your strength to read the rest of his message, vision becoming blurry as tears slowly formed.

‘. . . you’re such a great friend. don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful both inside and out but my feelings for you are just platonic. i’m really sorry that i don’t reciprocate your feelings. i don’t know how much this will affect you but just know that if you want me to stay away, i will. it’s the least i can do to help you move on.

you’re an amazing person, and there are a lot of other guys out there who deserve you so much but i am not one of them. again, thanks for letting me know.’

You didn’t even realise hot tears started rolling down your cheeks until it hit the screen with a soft sound, one by one, droplets of tears scattered the surface of your device as if to wash away all of Atsumu’s words

A weird feeling blossomed in your chest, extending its sharp roots down to your stomach where it painfully planted itself. The grip on your phone tightened, other hand clutching—clawing—at your heavy heart, wanting to take it out from the confines of your ribcage and mend it with your own shaky hands.

Everything felt completely still, birds that hummed their usual morning song were no more, mellow sounds of the city became distant as you let yourself wallow in complete sadness.

It was odd, you felt nothing, and everything at the same time—the ugly feeling in your chest, the sting behind your eyes, the impending headache from your stuffy nose. Atsumu’s words repeated inside your mind, plagued it like an invasive plant which invited more pain to your strained heart.

‘I don’t feel the same way. My feelings for you are just platonic.’

It wasn’t just cupid’s stupid arrow agonisingly digging into the core of your heart, no, it also felt like he had wrung your heart dry with his bare hands, and he was laughing about it.

You felt like a fucking fool. Especially for hoping that somewhere down the line, Atsumu felt the same way.

The last two remaining days of the year were a complete haze, navigating through the last moments with a clouded mind, and an unmendable heart while putting on a brave face. And as the clock struck midnight on the 31st, you put on the happiest smile you could muster in front of your parents, and welcomed the new year with uncertainty. You tried not to think about Atsumu’s words but they were seared into your mind, a mocking reminder of your unreciprocated feelings.

It wasn’t long before the first morning of the new year greeted you with clear skies, and warm rays, paired with an early call from Suna. You already knew the reason for his call—of course, one cannot celebrate the new year without hatsumōde.

“It’s a surprise you picked up my call, you haven’t been answering my texts. Anyway, the twins, and I are visiting the shrine, coming?”

“How about Kita?” You asked. “He’s going with his grandmother tomorrow.”

With a sigh, you hesitantly agreed. It's only been two days since the confession, and you could already feel the awkwardness, and pain seeping into your bones. You knew you weren’t even ready to face Atsumu yet but you’ve never turned down a shrine visit from your friends, especially on new years.

Before you knew it, the crisp winter air engulfed your body. Clad in thick layers of clothes, you walked the quiet footpath to the local shrine, heart hammering against your chest with every step taken closer to your friends—to Atsumu.

His flaxen locks were easy to spot, standing out amongst the crowd of people with raven strands. Your heart violently stuttered but you kept your eyes on Suna, putting on a bright smile to greet them. They stood just before the grand torii gate which led straight to the shrine itself.

“Glad ya could make it.” Osamu greeted you with a hug, followed by Suna.

Throughout the whole exchange with the two men, you could feel Atsumu’s burning gaze on the side of your face, and god, was it an extreme sport to ignore it. The two didn’t notice the way you, and Atsumu awkwardly greeted one another—a tight-lipped smile, and a brief eye contact. You felt small, and naked under his honeyed gaze but it wasn’t anything intimate, you guessed this was the consequences of baring the contents of your heart two nights ago.

Tugging at the neckline of your clothes, you began to grow uncomfortable at the awkwardness that made itself known.

You weren’t going to lie, Atsumu looked devastatingly handsome as ever, and it pained your heart even more. Though, he had this familiar expression painted on his face—the one he always wore whenever he was upset about something. It was subtle but you noticed the way his bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly, the light crease between his thick brows.

It was hard not to wonder what Atsumu was upset about.

After showing respect by bowing at the torii gate, the four of you fell into a step. Since it was the first day of the new year, the shrine was packed with families, friends, couples and people alike; some were at the chōzuya—water purification pavilion—to purify their body & mind while others were already lined up to pay respects at the main shrine building.

Keeping to the sides of the main path, You, Suna, and Osamu fell into a mellow conversation—talking about the new year ahead, and the upcoming semester. Surprisingly, Atsumu didn’t join in the conversation, hands tucked deep inside the pockets of his jacket, he stared hard at the concrete beneath.

It shouldn’t bother him but it did.

You were the one who got rejected so why was he more upset about the situation? Why were you able to easily slip into a cheerful conversation with Osamu, and Suna while acting like nothing happened two nights ago? Atsumu half expected you to not even turn up today, he had to practically stop himself from overreacting after the brunette stated you’d come.

Well, it was good that you were already moving on but whatever. Atsumu decided shoving away the weird feeling in his chest was the best option.

After doing the ceremonial purification rite at the chōzuya, the four of you headed at the back of the line for the main shrine. It didn’t take too long until it was your turn, Suna, and Osamu went ahead first which left you, and Atsumu to pair up.

Watching as your two friends prayed at the shrine, you dug your nails into the plush of your palms, awkwardness eating away at you. It felt like everyone’s eyes were burning holes on both your’s, and Atsumu’s backs—as if they all knew what happened between the two of you a couple of nights back; it also didn’t help how you could practically feel Atsumu’s not-so-subtle stares from the side.

Sighing, you spoke to him for the first time since that moment at the boat, “If you’re uncomfortable with me, I’m more than happy to do it alone.”

You didn’t dare look at him, even when he fully turned to face you. It was dangerous, one look into his gaze, and you’d be a sobbing mess.

“It’s not that. It’s just . .”

Atsumu’s sentence trailed off as he noticed you walking up to the shrine. He closed his lips and silently followed, heart weighing heavy with every unspoken word that plagued his mind.

The two of you did the customs as usual: ringing the bell, tossing a 5 yen coin into the wooden saisen-bako, bowing twice, and clapping twice before praying. You, and Atsumu stayed still for a moment, eyes closed, and palms glued together to wish for good luck in the new year ahead. Ending the prayer with another bow, the two of you joined Osamu, and Suna.

“I saw ‘em distributin’ amazake. Wanna go grab some?” The younger twin pointed a thumb over his shoulder. His brother, and Suna agreed rather quickly, their throats bobbing at the mention of the sweet treat.

Feigning a yawn, you spoke up, “I think I’ll head home now. I didn’t really get much sleep last night.” This earned a unison of disgruntled sounds from Suna, and Osamu whereas Atsumu wordlessly looked over your way.

It wasn’t like you were lying, you really didn’t get much sleep, especially after waiting for the clock to strike midnight but it wasn’t like lack of sleep bothered you, no, it was the growing feeling in your chest the longer you spent time in Atsumu’s presence.

Bidding your friends a good bye, you headed home, each step taken away from Atsumu somewhat eased the strain in your heart.

Never in a million years would your old self believe that the feeling of being away from Atsumu brought a sense of comfort, a tranquillity in your heart. Albeit, not easy—nothing ever was when you’re taming a yearning heart—there were days where the urge to bask in his presence were strong, and there were days where you felt fine without Atsumu around.

Safe to say, your year started with the much dreaded new year blues.

Ever since the new semester started, you’ve busied yourself with assignments, weekly quizzes, and whatever else that allowed you to make several excuses just to not see Atsumu—whether it be movie nights at the twins’ apartment, afternoon library sessions, or simply just coffee runs with the group, you had an excuse

Before you knew it, it had already been a little over two weeks since you’ve confessed—two weeks since you last saw Atsumu at the shrine. Two weeks, and your feelings never wavered for him, not even once, that was the stubbornness you were dealing with.

“Whatever, I’ll come by your place tonight, and drag you out if I have to.”

You groaned, “Suna.” He said your name with an equally serious tone, his dulcet voice spilling from the speakers of your phone.

“You’ve been holed up in your room since forever, and we haven’t seen you that much. I miss you, the twins miss you, and Kita misses you. It’s just a few hours to let loose.”

“Isn’t it a bit too early in the semester to party? Also, Kita’s coming?” You tried your best to ignore the fact that your heart stuttered at the mention of the twins missing you. Atsumu missed you? Before you could pick Suna’s words apart, he spoke into the line,

“It’s not a party, just a small gathering with some familiar faces. And, no, he isn’t. He needed to work on an assignment.”

“I do, as well!” “Bullshit. I’ll see you at eight.” With that, he ended the call.

And that’s how you ended up in the twins’ apartment, lazily sloshing the alcoholic contents of your plastic cup. You don’t recall the amount of drinks you’ve drank but it sure was enough to have your head spinning.

There were familiar faces here, and there—which you took time to greet every single one—and some foreign faces. You assumed most of the people here were Atsumu’s teammates from the university team with how close they were with the blonde.

In all honesty, you had absolutely no idea as to why the twins were even hosting this gathering, it was so out of the blue. Though, you did hear an orange-haired male loudly exclaim to Atsumu at how much of a genius he was for organising a gathering this early into the semester.

So, it was Atsumu’s idea all along.

“Y’know, you can just talk to him, right?”

Suna’s slurred voice unceremoniously pulled you out of your trance, shifting your attention over to him. “What do you mean?” You coughed, cheeks heating, trying to hide the fact that Suna just caught you shamelessly staring at Atsumu who conversed with the orange-haired male. He sat beside you, body far back into the couch, narrow eyes fighting the sleep that slowly overtook him.

You didn’t like how your mind instantly agreed with his sentence.

The brunette let out a humourless chuckle but didn’t elaborate further, instead, he pulled out his phone to mindlessly scroll on it. Narrowing your eyes at him for a brief moment, you shifted your gaze back to the blonde, he had a big smile on his face, a tinge of crimson across his cheeks.

God, even under the shitty lighting of their apartment, Miya Atsumu still looked handsome as ever.

You stared at him for a moment, heart hammering against your chest, limbs tingling at the sudden urge to walk up to him. Oh, this was a very dangerous game you were playing, especially with the alcohol in your system. Your mind yelled go, go, go but you knew better than to play with fire, right?

Wrong.

In a heartbeat, you were on your feet, taking slow strides over to Atsumu. The sober part of your mind screamed at you to turn around, and sit back down but the tipsy part of your mind was stubborn—you wondered if it took after your heart.

The sudden urge to talk to Atsumu was fuelled by nothing but liquid courage—all the worries in your mind were magically solved; the weight that pulled your heart down was gone, and suddenly, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to even talk to him.

Deep down, you knew you were playing a very dangerous game right now but you couldn’t care less. Not when your heart pulled you closer to him.

As you neared, Atsumu cut the conversation short with his friend, and stared at you with expectant eyes, brows sky high in surprise. He sucked in a breath as you looked up at him through your lashes, the corners of your lips subtly turned upwards. Heart pounding, he shifted his weight from one leg to another as he waited for you to speak first,

“‘Tsumu, can we talk?”

Atsumu’s knees almost gave out upon hearing his nickname roll off your tongue, an icy shiver running up his spine.

—

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shawnxstyles · 1 year ago

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the only one

DATE: JANUARY 2, 2024

summary: you go on your first date with peter, and it ends even better than you could have ever expected. ;)

request: yes!

words: 6.3k

warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [oral, fingering, multiple orgasms], protected sex, dirty talk), language, and the most gentlemanly man.

note: i cannot believe i’m finally writing another gyno!peter after all this time… anyway, this is NOT an actual series, simply just more situations/scenes of these two together!

gynecologist!peter x patient!y/n

–

Every date that you’ve been on in the past never made you this nervous. You didn’t spend two hours just deciding on what to wear and taking an extra hour to prepare yourself. You worked for a fashion magazine, editing and reviewing comments and critiques. You were surrounded by clothes and creativity all day, but struggled to pick a “first-date look” from your closet. You swore you read something about that before…

You never thought first dates were anything more than a simple introduction, a first impression of another human being. It was one of the foundations of the question, “Could I get along well enough with this person to go on a second date?”.

You had only been on two first dates: one with your ex, who you were with for four months, and recently with that guy from your work. The second one was mainly just a hook-up, and the first one obviously led to some type of relationship that didn’t work out in the end. Maybe you didn’t have enough experience in the dating world to be wondering if the amount of nerves you had right now was healthy.

Your hands were clammy as you strapped on your black heels. You noticed you were swallowing more frequently than normal, and you didn’t understand why. When you looked in the mirror, your hands flattened out your black dress more times than you could count, ridding wrinkles that aren’t even there.

After your appointment a few weeks ago, you had texted Peter. More specifically, you texted him the next day. Immediately after simply saying hello and your name, you thought of how many other people he may have given his phone number to. Or worse, how many people he had fingered in his office… You started worrying if you shouldn’t have texted him at all because he was a doctor. He was probably too busy for anything. It was just a nice gesture, maybe?

But an hour later, in the evening, he had texted you back with a short apology. He was working a little past the clock in order to get more doctor stuff done. Even his texts were sweet with a dab of charm. How do women control themselves around him?

Or maybe it was just you, and you were a fucking weirdo.

Yeah it could be that.

Peter and you went on to texting every now and then to texting daily. Texting him was something to look forward to after a long day at work. It also became pretty clear that he wasn’t texting anyone else because well, he was working throughout the day doing doctor stuff while you were doing editor stuff. He would even text you during his lunch break and that always made your heart skip to see his message in the middle of the day.

One night in particular, you were complaining to Peter (yes, you had gotten to the point where you could complain about little inconveniences) about your sink malfunctioning. Instead of asking you to send pictures of the pipes under the sink, he had you FaceTime him. It was the first time you guys have ever called and the second time you’ve ever seen his face, so your heart was a little race-y. But when that charming, wide grin flashed on your screen, he easily slipped into conversation. Peter helped you fix your sink with a little wrench movement along with replacing a broken screw through the phone.

It wasn’t awkward. It was relieving.

You didn’t have to force a certain personality in order to engage in a conversation with him. You felt more yourself than you ever have when talking to him, flowing easily like two streams into one. You hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you guys ended the call until he was gone. The serenity of your place felt a little more emptier than usual without the sound of his beautiful accent from your speaker. It was nearly midnight by the time you went to bed, wondering how things would be if you and Peter took your friendship a bit further.

Would talking always be this simple? Would he always be this charming?

After that night, you would make excuses to call him. He never denied you, even after he told you he had a long day at the hospital. You guys were not only texting now, but calling daily. You would get excited for his texts and calls, looking forward to talking to him. That’s when you realized you wanted more with him. It felt like you knew each other forever, but it had merely been a few weeks. You wanted to go on a date with him, wanted to be with him in person again. And of course, your mind wandered to the thought of how he is in bed.

If he was that good with just his quick fingers, then how good was he with more space and time? You began to dream about it.

Then he finally asked you. It was so sudden, you honestly didn’t expect it.

You were debriefing your plans for the week and what you had to do at work.

“Sometimes, I feel like my life is on repeat,” You chuckle, but it sounds tired.

“You’re always doing the same thing every week?” Peter questions. He found that he loves just listening to you talk for hours about whatever. He prompts you with questions, and you always answer thoroughly. It’s like an unspoken routine for you two.

“I mean, it feels like that. I never have time to go out and do anything. And when I do, I don’t go out,” You half-smile to yourself as you look down at your lap. You sounded kind of lame, so you were trying not to cringe at yourself.

“You told me your agenda for this week, but what about Saturday and Sunday?”

“Oh, well, you know I don’t work on the weekends. Sometimes, I get extra stuff done at home, but only because I’m bored. I watch TV…” You squint your eyes, trying to think of things you do on the weekend when you’re not busy. “You know, I’m listening to what I’m saying, and I am so lame. God, I need a life outside of work.”

“You’re not lame. Just busy. Give yourself some credit,” he waves off your dig at yourself, and you don’t stop yourself from smiling. He’s just too nice. You can’t take your eyes off him through the small screen as he watches you back.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. What are your weekend plans?” You definitely talk too much, so you always attempt to ask him questions back.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you out,” he very casually says, nonchalantly staring at you through the camera. “Unless you’re busy watching TV.”

“W-What?” Heat crawled up your neck and ears, skin flaming off of his quick words. He’s always charming and always confident with you, so why are you surprised he’s this smooth? You wonder if he’s been thinking about it for a while or if he just got the idea randomly. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I am joking…”

“I want to, Peter,” You smile with the words. It feels impossible to lower your cheek muscles because of the giddiness coursing through you. “If I’m honest, I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”

“I was a little slow, yeah?”

“Yeah, both the turtle and the hare beat you to the finish line,” His wonderful laugh echoes through the speaker of your phone, and it fills you with warmth.

While other people have belittled you and forced you to be one way, Peter naturally allows you to be yourself. Your wit flourishes, and your insecurities fade into unique parts of you. Whether you two are friends or more, you need more people like Peter in your life.

After you two had confirmed the plans for Saturday, you two both went to bed when the call ended. When your head hits the pillow, it’s instantly filled with scenarios of you and Peter. Mostly how your first date might go. Is he the type to pull out a chair for you? Definitely. Would he pay without a second glance? Probably, knowing he has that doctor paycheck. Would he kiss you after walking you back to your door? Maybe, maybe not.

But he did finger-fuck you in his office, so nothing is really that impossible.

So, you let your mind wander for the rest of the night while you sleep peacefully. Yes, you had some great dreams.

–

Instead of texting you that he’s here, Peter knocks on your door. The sound itself made your heart accelerate instantly as you stride quickly to answer it. You’ve been overthinking all the ways that this day could go bad, seriously hoping that it doesn’t.

“Hey,” Peter says, clearly eyeing you up and down. He sounds slightly breathless, but not as if he just ran to your door. No, more like he’s speechless. But you could just be overanalyzing every little detail.

“Hey,” As you repeat the word back, you’re both silent for a second. It’s not awkward as it is tense. You’re both just observing and taking in the appearance of the other, appreciating the time and effort in the looks. Peter’s wearing a navy button-up with black slacks. The first two buttons are undone, giving you a peek at his seemingly smooth chest. He’s not wearing a jacket, so you get a view of his arms. From the way the rich fabric stretches around his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out. He just keeps getting better. He continues to check more of your boxes. “Let me just go grab my purse really quick.”

You snatch your bag off of the coffee table after checking you have everything. What if his one flaw is that he won’t pay for at least half the dinner? You must prepare for all the possible outcomes.

“You look brilliant,” You can see him swallow before his compliment, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He never makes it a point to look even the slightest bit unsure, which you admire. He’s very charming, which takes a lot of confidence, and he’s very good at it. When he asked you out in his office, you saw that persona slip just a tad, enough for you to see that he is human and that he gets nervous too. You found him adorable. You still do.

“You as well,” You blush as you shut the door behind you. The two of you walk to his car, and of course, he opens the door for you. You can’t stop blushing. “Seriously, how do you make such a simple outfit look so good?”

“Unbutton it,” he answers before gently shutting your door closed. Your mind instantly went to places that it shouldn’t have, making your skin burn. You thought about unbuttoning his shirt slowly and sensually until it fell down his bulky arms. You thought about unbuttoning his slacks and palming his cock. He would be so hard for you, and you didn’t hesitate to get on your knees. God, you wished it was real because you truly would not hesitate for this man.

You shake your head, attempting to rid yourself of those dirty thoughts, so you can have a peaceful date. A first date with Peter.

–

When you guys get to the restaurant, that small voice in the back of your head expects it to be awkward the second you sit down. But once again, you were proven incorrect.

Peter instantly engages in a smooth conversation, asking how your week was overall. You told him all about work and the papers you’re reviewing, and he told you about some of his patients. Every time he mentions anything doctor related, it just makes you swoon. It’s impressive how intelligent he is, and even more so how hard he works. It’s obvious he loves what he does, and you never realized that loving one’s passion was a must-have in your partner checklist.

You also just love the way he talks. His accent makes your skin hot and your spine tingle. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t more often than not. And his gaze never leaves yours, only when talking to the waiter when ordering.

There is never a dull moment. Even as you were patiently waiting for your food, you still found things to talk about.

“What do you think they’re celebrating?” he asks, observing two people in the back corner with smiles on their faces.

“They’re dressed nicely, and they’re holding hands too much to be together for that long. I’m going to guess the three or four month anniversary.”

“What about them?” he nudges his head in the direction of the people not too far from you two, sitting with straight faces.

“Oh, they’re not celebrating. Probably breaking up.”

“Who goes to such a nice restaurant for a break-up?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like rich people problems to me,” You joke, and you both share a chuckle. It feels nice to casually chat and people watch with somebody else. When your food arrives, you both eat with more adding silence, slipping in words slowly.

“Did I tell you you look really good tonight?” Peter changes the topic, eyes fixating back onto you.

“Yes… Thank you,” You feel yourself blushing all over your body. You use your napkin to wipe your lips, but you’re really using it to protect your face. It was so obvious what his words did to you, that’s probably why he said them. Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot, even just in your dress. “Took me a while to find out what to wear.”

“You could have worn a garbage bag and still looked great,” Peter says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, stop it. You’re such a charmer. What’s your game? What do you want?” Your words are playful, but the look in Peter’s eye seems more serious. More powerful and heated. Eyes you haven’t seen for a long time in another person, and it freezes you still. The only thing that’s countering the lust circling his irises is the uprising smirk on his lips.

“To take you home.”

Boy, was he a charmer.

“Don’t ask if I’m kidding because I’m not,” he adds, setting down his napkin on the table. He leans over, a curl falling onto his forehead. A hand reaches halfway across the white cloth and rests delicately on your hand. Even his touch was warm and soft, not forceful in any way. “If you want, I’d like to.”

“I…” You were speechless. You knew what your answer would be, but you were just starstruck. How can one person be so gentlemanly yet hot? Cocky yet so sweet? God really didn’t give anyone a chance when making Peter. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

Your thumb rubs reassuring circles on his thumb while you smile like a fool. Peter’s smirk only got bigger as the night went on.

–

You talked. You laughed. You smiled.

But as he drove you to his house, you got nervous again. Maybe you guys would do something as normal as watch a movie. Maybe even cuddle a bit. But you really, really hoped it was more. Especially after your first meeting, you knew Peter wasn’t too shy about sexual matters. However, maybe he didn’t want to do that with you yet and just wanted to take things slow.

But his office…

When his hand was on yours on the table, your memory was brought back right to the moment of his fingers inside of you in the chair. You remembered the feeling of him pushing his digit in and out repeatedly and how good it felt when he removed his latex gloves. Your core rumbled with lust, getting off on the mere fantasy of it all.

When you arrive at his house, you both silently get out of the car. Besides the sound of nature, you could only hear your racing heart and how it was racking against your ribcage in intense beats. He unlocks his door, keying jingling while the breeze flows past. You’re hyper-aware of every noise as if Peter could hear your choppy breath. When he finally opens the door, he lets you in first and you smile, trying to not let your obvious nerves surface.

But you clearly fail when he points it out.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your eyes lock on his hands as he rests his key on his door side table and feet as he casually slips off his dress shoes. Everything about him was mesmerizing. You swear you could just watch a documentary of a regular day in his life and you could be starry-eyed.

“Bunch of things.” But it was really just one thing.

“Care to share?” Peter shifts to the kitchen and you follow him like a helpless dog, clutching your bag for dear life.

“I keep thinking about…the last time we were together,” the words fall from your mouth as you round the counter. You felt like you needed to create some distance between you two if you were going to admit something like that.

“What about it?” Peter’s knack to ask questions right now is making your face burn from embarrassment under his bright kitchen lights. He grabs two glasses and fills them up with fridge water without even asking if you wanted some.

“You know, the fun part,” You round the counter to reach the water, slowly taking a sip. When you set the glass down, your eyes don’t leave his chest. You’re too afraid to look into his eyes.

“I thought it was all pretty fun,” he says, placing down his own glass and taking one large step towards you “Especially the part where you came all over my hand.”

Your skin flames, eyes peering at him for a moment before dashing away. His finger slides beneath your chin to turn your face back to him. He could feel your radiating heat and could see the widening of your pupils under the luminous lights.

“Were you thinking of that?” His finger directs your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. His voice was low and husky, only for you to hear. “Because I haven’t stopped since the day I walked out of that room.”

“Peter…”

“Just say the word, honey, and I’ll kiss you right now.”

You could just melt into a puddle on the floor of his kitchen. His words are so sensual, there is no way you could ever say no to this man. He’s irresistible without trying too hard.

“Please,” You mustered out seemingly breathless while your eyes were locked into his surely.

He doesn’t miss the beat. His head turns as his lips crash against yours. Your lower back hits the island of the counter of marble, but you don’t flinch. His lips electrocute yours, sending jolts of energy coursing through your body like a shock. Your hands naturally find his neat yet messy styled hair on his nape, fingers rummaging through the curly ends. One of his hands holds your waist down from moving as if he already knows you’re antsy to grind on him. His other caresses your jaw in a stable position, the type of dominance you’ve been craving since that day in his office.

His hand goes underneath your thigh, leading you to wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought he was going to sit you on the counter, but he walked all the way to a bedroom without breaking the kiss.

Peter gently lays you on the bed, causing you to depart from the kiss. He wordlessly goes to unbutton his shirt, but you quickly sit up to do it. You’ve been thinking about doing it since he picked you up, so it only seems right that your fantasy comes true, right?

Just like you imagined, you slowly flicked off the buttons and delicately removed the fabric until it was a bundle of cloth on the floor. On the edge of the bed on your knees, you stare up at Peter with a lustful glint in your eye. That glowy look caused Peter to kiss you again, hungrier than before. His force makes you fall onto the mattress again, making you gasp. He trails down your neck in sloppy kisses, touching every inch of your neck and chest with his lips.

“Where did you get this dress?” You didn’t expect him to ask you that while he was groping your breasts through the material. You moan at the feeling of his rough thumbs on your nipples. It’s very distracting while you try to remember where you got the dress that is currently in the way.

“Um Zara? I-I don’t remember,” You moan loudly, not having time to conceal it as he suckles a mark on your neck.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“The dress.”

“S-Sure, yeah. It’s-It’s not my favorite, though,” His tousled hair tickles your face as he gets closer to your boobs.

“Maybe you should have worn a garbage bag.”

“Why?” You pull back a little, moving his head up so you can see his face. You thought maybe you would see some expression of disgust, but he only has pure enjoyment. His soft smile turns into a smirk that you’re growing really fond of. It means he’s about to do something hot.

“Because then I wouldn’t feel so bad about ripping it off of you.”

Just like that, the thin straps are easily snapped from his large hands while he yanks the long dress down your body and onto the floor. His mouth instantly went onto your nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with the raw peak of it. He repeated the same movement the opposite one until you were a panting mess, huffing and puffing from just his mouth on your chest.

You can tell he knows how to do this. Yes, he works in gynecology so it’s a benefit that he knows the female body inside and out. But he’s actually skilled in his technique. Although he is hungry and nearly primal, he takes his time with certain areas, making your body want him more and more each time. It’s incredibly smart, and you’re wondering why every man doesn’t know how to properly treat a woman.

You don’t even know your body the way he seems to know it.

His mouth is at your panties before you could even process it. Right when you think he’s about to widen your legs like you so desperately want him to, he stops when his hands rest on your knees gently. He had been going at a fast pace, but now, he’s slow and controlled. Taunting in a way. Torturing.

“I’m going to remove these now, yeah?” He knows you want it now because he has you in his bed right where you want to be. His tone is not as shy as it had been in the office. It’s more controlling yet still soft. “Words, Y/N.”

That demand was all too similar to his words back in the chair with his hands on your waist. He was about to pull off your underwear then for professional reasons, and now, he’s going to yank them off for selfish ones.

“Please take them off,” Just like you had then, you clenched around nothing. Just his sensual words that make you spiral into horny oblivion. Your wavering tone makes him smile as he tugs down the thin material from your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.

Then he finally widens your legs, facing your aching pussy that hasn’t forgotten about him since all those weeks ago. You were throbbing and leaking to the damn bed sheets, but you couldn’t give a fuck less. You wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock–anything that he was willing to give you.

“That day,” he starts, “I really wanted to taste you. You were dripping all over my fingers. It was so hard to stay professional.”

He leans down and gets really close to your cunt, inches away from doing what he really wants to do.

“You’ll let me taste you, right?” he asks in an innocent kind of way, but there’s hints of taunt in there. It makes your core burn, and you almost moan at the way his breath hits your center.

“Yes, please. Do whatever you want,” You say that because it’s true–he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would be grateful.

“So polite. So eager,” he kisses your thigh, dangerously close to you now, “And so, so wet.”

“Peter, please,” You were begging now, but you didn’t care. You would beg all night for Peter to touch you the way he did in his office. You’ve tried to replicate it, but it’s no use. You’ve been craving that feeling for weeks now, and he seems to be the only one who can get you there.

“So polite. Good girl.”

To your luck, he doesn’t say another word. He finally puts his mouth on your pussy by slurping up all of your juices. You immediately moan, just by the mere knowledge that his mouth is on you. His tongue slips through your folds all the way up to your clit. Peter suckles on it, feeling it throb in his mouth.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” You don’t know if his whispered words were meant to be heard by you, but you heard them. They caused you to clench right as his tongue slotted inside of you, desperate to taste more of you.

His large hands are pressed against the insides of your thighs, forcing you to stay spread for him. You can feel them ache, but nothing feels as prominent as his tongue inside of you. And then, just when it starts to feel good, he makes it feel even better. One of his digits finds your clit, circling pressure until you’re a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Peter. That’s… so good.”

His mouth pops off of you for a second to catch a breath. But he could honestly drown in the taste of you. He smoothly slides a finger to replace where his mouth was, filling you up just like in his office. Now, his mouth is sucking on your clit, needing to make it throb. You feel that feeling you’ve been chasing for the past few weeks building up in your stomach, and you know it’s not going to be long at all until you achieve it.

“Come. Show me what only I can make you do,” Peter grumbles, his words cascading over your body. The deep rumble of his voice tips you over the edge, causing you to come all over his fingers again. After cleaning up some of your orgasm, he lifts his mouth, but doesn’t remove his fingers. He continues to pump them in and out, even though you’re sensitive.

“So fuckin’ tight, and I haven’t even given you a second finger,” one of his fingers taps of your clit, causing you to gasp at how sensitive you are. “Can you give me another?”

“A-Another one?” You’re panting and sweating from just one, but he wants to give you another? Who is this man, and where has he been all your life? “I can’t.”

“Oh, but you can. The body is an amazing thing,” he inserts another finger into your cunt and increases his intensity on your nerves. You gasp again, moaning without caring how loud you are. “See, your clit makes you do that. And I love that.”

“Oh, Peter,” You helplessly whimpered. As he thrusts his fingers inside of you with that charming smile and a hint of a smirk, you already feel your high approaching you again. The sight and the feel of him was just too overwhelming. With each thrust of his fingers, his arms bulged, forearm veins popping deliciously. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“C’mon, baby. Give me another. Want to feel you clench around my fingers. Imagine it’s my cock. Imagine how big my cock is going to feel in your little, tight cunt.”

His words oozed sex. So it only made sense that you came not long after. Your release coated his skilled hand once again, and this time, he seemed satisfied with your two orgasms.

When you could finally catch your breath, you didn’t see him reaching for his belt like most men do. But you really, really wanted him to reach for his belt.

“Are you tired? How do you feel?” The tone in his voice was soft. He was easily able to change from sex Peter to caring Peter. Your heart melted at his concern.

“Tired, but good tired. I’ve only ever had three orgasms, and you just gave me two of them,” You laughed breathlessly while he chuckled. “Would I be selfish to ask for more?”

That made him laugh. It was wholehearted and deep, echoing throughout the room. “Not at all.”

And then he reaches for his belt. You feel your organs twist in that lustful, horny way that they do when he does anything. When all his clothes are discarded and you’re faced with his raging cock, you’re practically drooling. He was right when he said he was big; thick and veiny all along the sides. It seemed unfair, really.

He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it and rolling it on easily. You continue to watch him in awe as he strokes himself a few times over the condom. Truth be told, he’s already incredibly hard. The second he slips inside of you he fears he will come on the spot because of how tight you are.

But he leans over your body, elbows holding himself up. You can smell his fresh scent, full of pine and wood.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” he whispers next to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, which gives you the shivers. Your hands trail up over his body until they’re resting on his broad shoulders. You can feel his tensed muscles working to hold him up right, even though it looks like an effortless task to him.

“Oh shush. But thank you,” His comment makes your face warm, like a candle right next to your cheek.

“You look especially pretty under me,” his cock brushes your cunt, sliding delicately through the folds. You’re not shy of gasping, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his impeccable size.

When he finally pushes the head in, you take a deep breath and release it in a small whimper. You know you’re tight because you haven’t been with anyone in a few weeks. The most you’ve taken are Peter’s fingers, which are nothing compared to his cock.

He waits a few moments before moving again, giving you time to adjust. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully settle with his size. It seems like he’ll always be stretching you out, no matter how many times you take him.

“Breathe, baby,” his words are breathy and wavering, but so sweet. The small nickname gives you the butterflies you haven’t felt for a while. Not the nervous butterflies, but that tingling, excited feeling of fondness. It’s one of your favorite feelings, and you’re so glad Peter gives you them.

You listen to him, taking deep breaths. He takes the opportunity to push himself a bit further until he’s fully inside of you. He stays still, looking at your face as you grow more comfortable. He watches as your expression contorts into desperation, which is what he’s been waiting for.

“You’re so tight, honey. But you’re taking all of me. Knew you could,” Peter reassures you, even as you clench snuggly around him. It’s embarrassingly hard for him to stay still, given how warm you feel wrapping him.

“Please move. Fuck, I need to feel you.”

Slowly, Peter removes himself and then slots in again. You remember to breathe as his movements become less languid and more fluidly quick. Soon, his thrusts have a bit of speed, causing you to scratch his shoulders at the intensity.

“You’re so big… so deep,” Your moan bounces off the walls of the room, making Peter smirk as he continues to move. His cock pins your hips, shutting down your squirming.

“No one’s ever fucked you like this? Never been this good, baby?” A small huff of his breath hit your skin and you were awed. His words alone could get you off, and then he’s pumping himself perfecting inside of you too, just making you go insane. He knows where all the right spots are, lifting up one of your legs with ease to get a better angle. You love that you can just let him take over you without having to work for your orgasm like you’re used to. You’re used to being on top, but it’s evident that Peter just wants to take care of you. He wants you to be satisfied for once, and you’ve never felt so seen. You’ve never felt so… good.

“Y-You’re the only one,” You sigh as you bite your lip, loving the way he's speaking to you. He’s all sultry in tone and even sexier with his words. You believe he has no flaws that are worth noticing.

“S’right. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. You can only take my cock like this, deep in your cunt,” All you can do is moan and shake as you feel your next orgasm approaching.

Just when you go to reach down to your clit to push yourself even further, he reads your mind and does it for you. His thick finger circles the throbbing bud until you’re arching your back. Your fingers play with the pebbled nipples on your chest as your insides grow more tight. You haven’t had an orgasm feel this intense yet, so it’s hard to anticipate the feeling.

“Gonna come, baby? Come all over my cock, I need to see it. Need to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

With one entire pump inside of you, you’re coming over Peter’s cock and showing him that he’s the only one. All you can see is his charming, fatigued smile surrounded by stars. His brown hair is tousled and a dash of sweat is above his eyebrows, but God, he’s never looked so fucking hot.

It’s not long after that he’s coming after you, his release filling the condom completely. Peter was trying his best to hold himself for as long as possible. But with you, he discovered it was very difficult. Like he thought, the second he was inside of you, he could’ve come. You’re so slick and warm, just so alluring.

He gets up from the bed to discard the condom in done trash while you lay there in naked awe. You already know that you’re going to be sore tomorrow like the day after the gym.

As Peter comes back, he has a wipe that he uses to clean you up.

“What are you doing?” You ask before he starts to wipe you.

“Cleaning you up. You know, like aftercare. You can go to the bathroom and even take a bath if you’d like,” Peter answers while you sit straight up dumbfounded. “May I?”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” You allow him to soothingly clean you while you just accept it. Your mind is still whirling with confusion. Are all guys supposed to do this? Or is he really just that great? “Thank you. I… No one’s ever done that before.”

“Really? God, you were really with some twats, Y/N,” he shakes his head and walks back to the bathroom while you chuckle. It’s funny that you had to go through those two guys in order to get to Peter. Third time’s the charm. “Want to take a bath?”

You ponder for a second. You were tired, but not like you would drown in the tub. Maybe if you had better stamina you would ask Peter to join you, but for now, maybe you just need to sit and think about what’s happening alone. Peter is too good to be true. He’s such a gentleman, he never misses a beat. You hope you’re not overstepping by accepting.

“Can I? Or is it too much—”

“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable. Now, do you like the right or left side of the bed?” You stare at him in confusion. One, because that was a random question. And two, because when did he put on boxers?

“What?”

“Which side do you sleep on?” You felt your cheeks burn for some reason, and then you realize you’re still naked while he’s semi-dressed.

“Um right, I think. Why?”

“So you can sleep there. You are staying, aren’t you?” Peter’s cheeks tint rosy red, that peek of nervousness shining through. It made you smile because even if he seems too good to be true, there is a little human in there who’s just like you.

“Yes, of course,” You can visibly see his tenseness fade as a small smile grows on his lips.

“I’ll start the bath then get you some clothes then, or else you’ll keep me hard all night.”

Your skin burns, but you feel like that’s not the last time that will happen to you. Not with Peter. No, you know.

—

thank you all for being patient!! i also think this is the longest taglist i’ve ever had, so thank you again!! 💞

taglist:

-> @motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @httpscomexe @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @deathst9r @ellenita98 @ellabellabus07 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @eatshitanddiee @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach @winuvs

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnstyles #tom holland #peter parker #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland fan fics #peter parker fan fics #tom holland fan fiction #peter parker fan fiction

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brokebonewritings · 1 year ago

Text

Be Mine, Forever?

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Valentine's Day Special

Summary: Your day is interrupted by an impromptu girl's day. and your night is filled with passion as Matt surprises you for Valentine's Day. You had a surprise for him as well. Song: Here (In Your Arms) - First Dance by Hellogoodbye

Word Count: 4.4K

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The day started normally enough. Of course, Valentine’s day fell on a week day this year so you were stuck at work. You sent Matt a few ‘Good Morning’ and ‘Happy Valentine's Day’ texts, but it's been radio silence from the other end. This was expected though, since he had already informed you that he was going to be in court all day.

You sit back at your desk, you've been preparing all month for a new exhibit at The Met. The plans that spread across your desk puzzle you as you try to figure out where to place each case and art piece.

As you meticulously arrange the plans for the new exhibit, your mind can't help but wander back to Matt. The silence from him is starting to feel unusual, as he's always been the one to send you sweet messages and surprises on special occasions. But you brush it off, he's never disappointed you.

Just as you're about to finalize the placement of the last art piece, Marci rushes into your office, a mix of urgency and excitement in her eyes. "Hey!"

"How did you get in here?" You respond with a raised eyebrow. "Did my assistant let you in?"

Just as you finish your question Justin, your assistant, rushes in behind her. "I am so sorry. I tried stopping her, but she is so fast in those heels."

"Lawyer walk." Both you and Marci say in unison.

She turns back to you with a smile plastered on her face. "I need you to come with me for the rest of the day."

"Marci, I can't just leave work in the middle of the day." You cross your arms over your chest.

"Oh yes you can, I already spoke to your boss! So come on." She grabs your coat that's by the door, along with your umbrella. "We got things to do, come on."

You sigh and thank Justin for trying, and invite him to also take the rest of the day off. Which he does happily.

"So what are we even going to do?" You ask. Grabbing your bag, and putting away your belongings.

"Well we're gonna go get ready for our Valentine's Date Nights, duh." She helps you get your coat on, and you both were off. "I just know that Foggy, and Matt are planning something special for us."

You smile at the thought. "Have you heard from Foggy today? I know they had a busy day."

"Not a word. You didn't hear it from me, but apparently their client is very demanding of their time."

"Oh shit, really?"

You loved the gossip you got from your lawyer friends. Not that it was filled with a ton of details. Client/Lawyer confidentiality and all that.

"Mhm, Needs lots of attention to detail." She says before dragging you into a nail salon. You realize how nice this salon is after looking around. "Hey, wait, I don't think I'm gonna be able to afford this right now. Trying to save up for a new apartment with Matt, remember?"

She laughs before checking the both of you in for the appointment she had already made. "Who said you were paying? It's all on me today, hun."

"Oh my god, no way! I seriously cannot accept this."

"Too late! It's already done, you don't wanna ruin this day for me do you?" She pouts after turning back to you.

You sigh and shake your head. "Thank you, this is incredibly kind of you."

"Don't even mention it. I wanna make sure we both are dolled up!"

You're both called back after about 5 minutes. The salon was nicer than you thought. When you had both settled at the manicure station, they had offered you both a glass of champagne. Who were you not to accept a free glass?

It was truly relaxing, you were glad that Marci got you out of work early. You both spent the next two hours getting your nails prepped for a night out. Usually you don't get long nails since you work with your hands most of the time, but she insisted you get something more elegant. You couldn't refuse since she was the one paying.

Just as the nail technician finished with your right hand, your phone buzzed on the table beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Matt's name flashing on the screen. You quickly picked it up and answered, not wanting it to go to voicemail.

"Hey! Happy Valentine's Day!" You chirp happily. "How is court?"

There was a brief pause before Matt's voice came through, heavy with exhaustion. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart." It's been chaos. I couldn't even find a moment to catch my breath."

You let out a sigh of relief, understanding his predicament. "Then I guess tonight will be a good night to cash in one of those massages I owe you, huh?"

Hearing the low rumble of his chuckle sent chills through your body. "Yeah, guess it will be." He pauses. "I was wondering if you would meet me on the roof tonight, like we used to?"

"Yeah, of course I will." You blush, it has been a while since you both sat on the roof together. "What time do you want me there?"

"8:30. There is room for you to be fashionably late, of course."

You let out a giggle. "Yeah okay, 8:30 then. I'll see you then."

"I love you." He says with a loving sigh.

"I love you too." You respond before hanging up.

"Soooooo," Marci pipes up. "Romantic Dinner?"

The blush was still tinting your face from the conversation. "Yeah, on his rooftop."

"That sounds lovely, very romantic."

As you finish up at the nail salon, Marci insists on taking you to a cafe nearby. She called it a Galentine's Brunch, just the girls. When you both arrived, you were surprised to see that Karen was able to join you.

"I thought you were in court with Matt, and Fog?"

"Oh no, I told them I wouldn't be in today. Playing hookie." She laughed lightly. "Besides, Im not going to deny Marci a girls brunch. We need it."

As you settled into the cozy booth at the cafe, sipping on your latte, the three of you began catching up on each other's lives. Karen shared stories about her latest investigative assignment, Marci talked about her recent courtroom victories, and you filled them in on the details of the upcoming exhibit at The Met.

Marci nudges you playfully. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear?" she asks with a mischievous smile.

You shake your head, realizing that you've been so caught up in work and the surprise day off that you haven't even considered your outfit.

"I just figured I would wear what I was wearing right now."

"You're joking." Marci says. "You have to wear something else. Not saying that what you're wearing right now isn't cute, but this is Valentine's Day."

"Yeah you gotta wear something he can undress you with" Karen chimes in with a mischievous smile. "Cause you know he'll love it if you wore something hot."

"Okay, okay. I have been saving a silk dress for a special occasion."

"Silk? I gotta see this." Marci says forcefully.

You pull out your phone and find the dressing room photo you took of the dress in question. It was a lavender colored dress with a cowl neckline. They both stare at the photo then back to you.

"Where have you been hiding that!" Karen says in disbelief.

"In the back of my closet." You respond with a laugh. "I just didn't know how to style it."

"I will simply just have to come over and help you with that." Marci states.

"And." You pause. "There's matching lingerie."

They both squeal before you change the subject back to Marci and Foggy's plans for the evening.

You stare in the mirror at the dress you had shown Marci, and Karen earlier in the day.They had left about an hour ago to get ready for their own plans. Not without them giving your outfit their seal of approval though.

Sitting on your bed, you pull on the heels Marci had carefully chosen. This was going to be a good night, but you didn't know why the butterflies in your stomach felt so prominent. You haven't been this nervous since you started dating Matt.

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that there's nothing to worry about. It's just a rooftop date with the love of your life. You run a hand down the front of your dress, feeling its smooth texture against your skin.

As you do your makeup, you can't help but replay all the beautiful moments you've shared with Matt. From late-night conversations under the stars to stolen kisses on the rooftop, every memory fills you with warmth and love. Tonight is just another chapter in your story together, a celebration of your deep connection.

With your hair styled in loose waves, you stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire the final look. The dress drapes perfectly over your figure, accentuating your best features. You feel confident, more confident than you've felt in years.

You look at the clock on your nightstand, and see that it just hit 8:00. Perfect. You grab your bag and set out walking towards his apartment building.

The city is alive with the energy of Valentine's Day. Lovers walk hand in hand, their laughter and joy filling the air. As you make your way through the bustling streets, you can't help but smile. The anticipation in your heart grows with every step.

Finally, you arrive at Matt's apartment building. Taking a deep breath, you enter and climb the stairs towards the rooftop. The familiar sound of the door creaking open greets you as you step onto the familiar space that holds so many precious memories.

The sun has already set, casting a magical glow over the city skyline. The soft twinkle of lights fills the air, creating an atmosphere that feels straight out of a fairy tale. And there he is, standing near the edge of the rooftop, tall and handsome as ever.

Matt turns as he hears your footsteps approaching. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. That's when you realize that you're not alone. You turn to see that your friends are there. Not only your friends but also your Aunt May and Peter.

"What is happening right now?" You say with a nervous laugh.

"Sweetheart," You hear him say and you turn back and give him your full attention. "I have been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't know how to go about it."

"Matt, are you?" You begin before he cuts you off with a kiss.

"Ever since I met you I have been so entranced by you.You've brought so much light and love into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," Matt says, his voice filled with sincerity. He takes a step back, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small velvet box. Opening it to reveal a dainty opal ring, he drops to one knee.

You stand there for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening or if you were have a really specific dream.

"Will you marry me?" Matt asks, his voice filled with vulnerability and love.

The world around you seems to fade away as you lock eyes with him, feeling a mixture of excitement and overwhelming joy. The weight of his question hangs in the air, and time seems to stand still.

Tears well up in your eyes as you try to find your voice. This moment feels like a dream, but the warmth in your heart tells you it's all too real. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question like a beautiful promise.

"Yes," you whisper, barely able to contain your joy. "Yes, Matt, I will marry you."

The rooftop erupts in cheers and he stands and slips the ring onto your finger. You glance around, realizing that they had all conspired together to create this magical moment. Aunt May wipes away a tear of happiness while Peter grins ear to ear. Marci and Karen are practically jumping up and down with excitement, their eyes shining with joy. Foggy is trying to conceal his tears by wiping his eyes with his sleeves.

Embracing Matt tightly, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. This rooftop, once a place of solace and refuge for the two of you, now holds even more significance. It symbolizes the foundation of your future together, a place where love can blossom and dreams can be realized.

Amidst the cheers and laughter, you take a moment to soak in the beauty of this milestone in your relationship. The twinkling lights of the city below seem to dance in celebration, mirroring the joy in your hearts.

"This is so epic, and I got it all on video." Peter says amidst the celebration.

As the cheers die down, Aunt May steps forward, her eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, darling" she says, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't be happier for you both. You deserve all the love in the world. Your father would have loved Matt."

"Thanks Aunt May." You say with a tearful smile.

As the rooftop continues to buzz with excitement and congratulations, you and Matt share a tender moment together. He pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. You feel safe and cherished as you rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ears.

"I love you so much," Matt murmurs softly, his voice filled with emotion. "And I promise to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration. "I love you too, Matt," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

After the shared dinner with all of your friends and family, you all decide it's time to head home to spend the rest of Valentine's Day in the comfort of your homes.

Saying goodbye to everyone, you and Matt clean the roof top and share a few intimate moments with kisses and lingering touches.

On your way back down the stairs, you can feel Matt's presence hovering over you. So you stop for a moment and turn to see what he is doing. As you turn, you feel his hand slide up your jaw as he pushes you against the wall. You gasp as he presses himself against you, one hand around your neck and the other sitting on your waist.

"Ive been waiting all day to be alone with you." He growls into your ear before kissing you roughly.

Your heart races as his lips claim yours, a hunger and desire that electrifies your senses. The intensity of his touch against the coolness of the wall sends shivers down your spine.

His hands explore every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench. The urgency and longing in his kisses leave you breathless.

With each touch, each caress, the connection between you deepens. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driven by a love that transcends words.

As he pulls away, you feel dizzy with the intensity of his attack. "We need to get back to your apartment." You state.

"Oh do we?" He questions. "I have no problem ravishing you right here in this stairwell."

You huff, as you stare at his smirking face. "I would actually love for you to ruin this dress, but in the comfort of our bed."

"Our bed?"

"Yes, our bed." You smirk as you push his hands away and begin to walk back to his apartment.

He follows closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your body. The desire he has for you is palpable, and it fuels you as well. As you pass each door, you can't help but imagine what would happen behind your own.

Approaching his door, you grab the keys from his hand and begin to unlock the door.

"I promise, I'll ruin that dress, right here," he whispers in your ear, causing you to shiver.

You hear the click of it unlocking as you turn to him, "Well, Mr. Devil. Ruin the dress then." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the door creaks open, the sound echoes throughout the hallway, the anticipation in the air is palpable. Together, you step inside and kick the door shut behind you. He pins you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body like a man possessed.

He seems desperate to claim you, to conquer every inch of you. You're aching for him too, the want and need between you undeniable. You need his touch, his kiss, his warmth. You're completely vulnerable to him, ready to give yourself to him in every way.

His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his hands holding your neck as your fingers dig into his shirt. You break the kiss, both of you panting heavily, your hearts pounding in sync.

"I love you so much," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion.

"And I love you more," Matt replies, his voice filled with warmth and devotion.

With that his hands grip the top of your dress and he pulls, ripping the dress down the front. You moan at the intensity of the moment. He really did ruin the dress.

You're left in the lingerie you had on underneath as the dress drops to the floor. He takes a moment before feeling up your sides and realizes what you have on.

"Oh you dirty girl." He groans. "You wanted this to happen tonight, didn't you?"

You smile, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Maybe I did"

"Well, I'm not complaining." He says slowly. "You have no idea how hard this is making me."

"I think I have some idea." You say as you lift your knee, feeling his erection already straining under the fabric of his pants.

His hand maneuvers down to pull your lingerie to the side, revealing your most intimate parts. "I'm going to make you scream, baby."

With that, he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom. The moment you step into the room, he drops you onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"I want you so bad," he growls into your mouth. You feel his erection pressing into your thigh, and you're more than ready for him.

He breaks the kiss and starts to unbutton his shirt, you lay back watching as he undresses himself. What a sight it was, he could have been a Greek god.

Once he's stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you again, his hand traveling down your body, tracing patterns on your skin as he does. His fingers run along the edge of your underwear and you shudder at the sensation.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked body to him. He leans down and begins to kiss your inner thigh, nuzzling into the most inner part.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his thumbs brushing against your waist.

Before you can respond, his tongue swipes up against your core. You gasp at the sudden electricity of the situation. He repeats the motion, his tongue swirling around your clit in slow, steady circles. Your hips start to rise in response, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. You arch your back, moaning softly.

Matt responds with a gentle growl, his fingers still moving against your waist, caressing your skin. He reaches down and slowly pushes two fingers inside you, drawing out a loud moan.

His other hand moves to your breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. You mewl, your body trembling with need. His tongue continues to dance around your most sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, Matt," you moan, "I need you inside me."

He stops his ministrations, lifting his head towards you. "Not yet," he says, standing up and helping you off the bed. "I want to make you beg for it."

He leads you over to a table by the window, bending you over it. The cool glass feels amazing against your naked skin, as you're exposed to the room with your legs spread apart.

Matt positions himself behind you after dropping his boxers. You can feel his erection pressing against your ass, precum leaking out. You know he's ready for it.

"You're going to make me come so hard," you whisper.

He rubs his tip against your entrance, teasing you, making you crave him even more. Sliding his cock between your folds. You push back against him for any sort of friction.

A loud crack echoes through the apartment. His hand lingers, massaging the area he just spanked. "You need to be a good girl for me. Or else the next one will be a lot harder. Do you understand?"

You nod, pleasure spread across your face as you lean against the table.

"Good girl, sweetheart. Such a good listener."

Beginning to slide against you once again, you hold back every instinct to push back against him. With every teasing thrust, you feel electrified, your desire for him only growing. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves every moment.

He slowly begins to tease your hole as you stand there whimpering. Pushing the head inside you, and quickly taking it out.

"Please, Matt, fuck me," you plead. "I can't take it anymore."

He pulls away, a devious grin on his face. "Not yet," he says, kissing the side of your face.

He picks you up, carrying you over to the bed. He lays you down, spreading your legs wide apart and kneeling between them.

"I need you to beg. Okay, sweetheart?" He says and you nod.

He slips two fingers into you, pumping and curling to find your sweet spot. You cry out in pleasure as he hits you right where it feels good.

"Please, oh god, Matt" You moan loudly. "I'm going to come, please I need you in me."

That must have been enough for him. With a low growl, Matt plunges into you, filling you up to the hilt. He thrusts deep inside you in one swift motion, the bed frame creaking under the force of his passion.

He pulls out almost immediately, leaving you emptiness. "Please," you beg, wanting more.

He chuckles softly, teasing you by running his cockhead up and down your slit. "Patience, sweetheart. I want this to last."

He thrusts back into you, moving slowly, savoring every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

The way his cock pulsed inside of you was almost too much to bear. He began to pick up the pace, each thrust harder than the last.

You let out a loud, trembling moan, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you.

"I love you," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you too," you choke out, the emotions taking over you.

He picks up his pace, driving into you harder and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Your body responds in kind, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"I'm going to come," you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm starts to build.

Matt's thumb found your sensitive clit, sending you soaring towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he growls.

You let out a wail, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your inner walls clenched around him, milking him as you shook uncontrollably.

He continued to thrust into you, driving you further over the edge. Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body writhing beneath him in pure ecstasy.

Finally, he slides out of you, leaving your inner walls quivering. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as your heartbeats sync.

You lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.

"My ass hurts." You after taking a deep breath. He begins to chuckle as you giggle.

"Sorry, too much?"

"Not at all."

"Good" He says as he pulls you closer and peppers your face with kisses.

As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, your skin still flushed and sweaty, you can't help but smile. This was more than just sex; it was a powerful expression of love and intimacy.

Matt pulls away and smiles, a look of pure contentment on his face. "I just can't get enough of you."

You giggle and wrap your arms around him, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.

"Can we talk about the fact that we're engaged now?"

"I've been planning it for the last 2 weeks with Foggy, Peter, and your Aunt May."

"There is no way that Peter kept a secret for that long. How did you even manage that."

"You can thank your aunt for that one. She basically grounded him from texting you."

This made you both laugh. "You know, I'm gonna have to get used to being called Mrs. Murdock."

A smile spreads across his face, "I'm already getting used to it."

As he pulls you in for another kiss, you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. This man. This strong, protective, and passionate man, is now your fiancé. The thought brings a smile to your face, and you wrap your arms around him even tighter.

"I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," you whisper.

He pulls away slightly, a gentle smile on his face. "The future is ours, my love. And I promise to love and cherish you, always."

"Though I do have one complaint."

"And what is that?" He raises an eyebrow.

"You never asked me to be your valentine."

Chuckling, he pulls your hips closer before whispering in your ear. "Be Mine, Forever?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

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brabblesblog · 1 year ago

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Safety

Part 6 of the Goodnight Moon series

The confession has its repercussions.

More angst (happy ending at the end of the series) and more slow, slow burn.

Read on AO3.

Part 5

Part 7

Masterlist.

Astarion hears the words, but it doesn't really register. What? He blinks, taking a moment for it to sink in. He had heard those same words before, countless times from countless lips - lips soon to be screaming and crying as Cazador took them away. He instinctively flinches away from your grasp, taking a sharp breath. This isn't the same situation, he tries to remind himself, but is it not?

Did he not manipulate his way into your bed? Into your heart? Did he not do this to send you Cazador's way? To kill him this time, sure, but what difference did that make?

And shouldn't he be happy? Your devotion to him was clearly written on your face. You died for him. Surely you would go to the ends of the earth to rid him of Cazador. But all he feels is a mix of relief and a twisted pain in his chest where his heart was. Relief that you had finally come back to him, yes, but that pain - he refused to look too deeply into it.

He looks to your soft, sad eyes and slipped his mask back on. It takes seconds to do, seconds you would have normally seen but not right now in your current condition.

"That's even worse, darling," he hisses, trying to bring as much venom into his words. "Love is for the foolish, the unlucky, the damned. I-," he almost falters, but presses on, "I don't do love. Let's just keep this fun, alright?"

You look away. Of course. That explained those faraway eyes whenever you were together. You try not to cry, but it was hard. Not expecting anything in return was one thing, but having your feelings dismissed so nonchalantly was another. You nod curtly and lay back down, stretching your neck out. If this was the case, you can only really think of one reason he'd be here.

"I understand," you say, in a small whisper, eyes brimming with tears. He can see it, can almost taste your pain, but he cannot - will not - do anything about it. "Just feed, please, and then you can go. I need to rest."

He stares at you in confusion. "Why would I - you're -"

He stops himself, realizing why. Instead he shakes his head. "You don't really have much blood left inside you, so I shall abstain today. I just came by on the way to hunt to make sure my little snack was going to be alright. And it seems like you are." He pats your hand twice, awkwardly. "I shall go, then. Good night," he says a little too cheerily, turning to leave.

If he hears the soft muffled sounds of your sobbing as he does, he ignores it.

As the days pass you slowly recover, thanks to Shadowheart and Halsin's help. You have been staying with the druid more often of late, as he helped you walk and would carry you when your body finally gave up walking. Astarion seemed to be acting like nothing had happened between you that night. He was back to his usual flirty, sassy self, and you were all too happy to just let that happen. There were too many problems for you and everyone at camp, and you were all too happy to just push this one to the side for now.

You still asked him to come feed on you at night, and without fail he would show up. Your little conversations in your tent remained the same. The only thing that changed was that whenever he would reach out - to touch your hand, or to cup your cheek - you would flinch slightly, but let him do it anyway. It meant nothing to him, you knew, but you couldn't really resist these small morsels of affection he gave no matter how insincere it was.

As the group traveled the underdark and the shadow cursed lands, Astarion begins spending more time at your tent after he had fed. There was nothing to hunt here, the lands barren and desolate. Inevitably it brought you two closer, but you knew not to let hope into your heart.

"Tomorrow we have to look for last night inn," you say, yawning. He had fed a lot today, as the fights had taken a lot of his energy. He nods and takes your hand, lazily tracing your knuckles. "Mm. I shall scout ahead. Which direction was it again?"

You frown. "Why do you like being in front? You don't trust me to have your back anymore? We used to fight back to back and- ugh. Never mind." You worry you pushed too far, asked too many things and upset the delicate situation you two had.

He tilts his head to meet your eyes. His were oddly round and shiny, as though he was about to cry.

"To keep you safe," he says in such a small voice that it's almost inaudible. You notice that his hand gripped yours tightly now, terrified of letting go.

"I can keep myself safe, Astarion. If anything, I keep you safe," you say, joking a little bit. He does not find it the least amusing. His eyes narrow and he almost hisses. "No," he says, his voice low and rough. "You are incapable of that, darling. You did it once, and it killed you. No more."

You take a deep breath, trying not to react in a way that would push him away. "Thank you for your concern. I am well though. I have been training with Halsin as well. I have seen my errors and am improving in combat. You can ask him."

His grip in your hand is almost painful now. He wants to scream, to tell you how much fear he felt when you died, how he could never live through that again. He bites his lip hard, enough to draw blood.

"Be as it may, me leading in the front has been beneficial to the group," he says quickly. It was true, to a point. He knew though that he had to leave. Any more of this conversation, and he was afraid he'd open his mouth and his heart would come spilling out onto your hands.

"Thank you, yet again, for the blood," he says as he slaps on a well-practiced smirk. "I shall see your delicious self tomorrow."

You nod, closing your eyes and settling in for the night.

He gives you once last glance, and is unable to completely stop himself. He leans over you and you feel soft lips press against yours. You feel a soft gust of wind as the tent flap is opened and when you open your eyes, he is gone.

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sotwk · 2 months ago

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Holiday updates!

Unfortunately, it looks like I wouldn't be able to deliver on my Yuletide in the Elvenking's Realm this Christmas season, as I had planned. Although I have been having a very merry (albeit hectic) holiday season offline with my family, my Tumblr experience since Thanksgiving has been rather bah-humbug.

I'm not sure why; my Moots are being lovely as usual, but overall the vibes are off. Perhaps it is a *me* issue. I feel oddly out-of-place and even rejected because I noticed a weird, sudden drop in my follower count (by like 10+)--which is possibly a site glitch, but it's disconcerting nonetheless. I know Follower count doesn't matter here, but you cannot truly care about your Followers as individuals without tracking how many there are, could you? And I do happen to care about each person that chooses to follow me; I'm not cool enough to pretend not to notice.

Anywayyyyy... on top of that humbug-ness, I have been experiencing crippling writer's block for weeks. It's not even that I cannot seem to write; I actually am hating my writing right now! And when I try to read my talented friends' fics for inspiration, I just feel more disappointed in my own (perceived) lack of skill. This is a normal feeling for a writer that happens to everyone occasionally, but it's pretty bad. If this type of writer burnout is allowed to fester, it's what often leads writers to quit. So I'm trying to be careful and gentle with myself and not push too hard.

I don't want to work on any of my precious WIPS when I'm in this kind of mood; the sourness would seep into my writing! Especially my Yuletide series, which is supposed to be filled with joy and hope! So alas, that would just have to wait another year.

But now for some positive news! My dear husband has bought me a new laptop for Christmas! He's a stickler for rules and tradition, so I can't open it until Christmas Day, but once I set it up, my sister can give me her gift--the Scrivener software!

I've decided to spend the rest of December taking it easy by not pushing myself to produce anything; instead I will just try to set myself up for a strong start to 2025 when I come back from my post-Christmas vacation (going on a road trip to see family). The new laptop and software should give me a little boost! :) And I gotta go learn how to use Scrivener now--lol!

I hope everyone reading this is having as good a Christmas season as possible. <3 This is the time of year when I truly wish everyone can experience joy and peace, whatever or however you celebrate. If there is anything at all that I can do to help you be merry, my Ask Box and DMs remain open. Please know that you are very loved.

One the flipside, if anyone would like to send some Christmas joy my way, please sign my Christmas tree (I saw some Mutuals doing this!) and/OR give my Yuletide series a try! Every little bit of cheer helps!

Yuletide in the Elvenking's Realm Series (Tumblr link)

#sotwk updates #sotwk personal #holidays #christmas #yuletide in the elvenking's realm #sotwk ocs #writing #writer stuff #sotwk fanfic #writer's block #follower appreciation

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majokkid · 5 months ago

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Contacting an Incubator

It feels like most of the magical heroes, or aspiring magical heroes, in my orbit are working within the paradigm of Puella Magi Madoka Magica and I’ve seen many requests across platforms for tips regarding contacting Kyubey or another Incubator.

For the uninitiated, an Incubator is a ‘messenger of magic’; they grant a wish in exchange for service as a magical hero. In Puella Magi Madoka Magic and related works, those who form a contract with an Incubator must defeat witches—corrupted entities that feed upon the hopes and dreams of the masses.

Note: While this agreement may seem fair to some and the Incubator may seem enthusiastic to help by any means necessary, Incubators are known for their calculating ways and almost trickster-like mentality. Incubators cannot exhibit emotions of any kind and as a result Incubators often seem cold and uncaring. However, Incubators seek to achieve only one main goal; to preserve the universe from total entropy. To ensure this, they employ all logical and efficient means to create magical heroes.

You may want to try contact an Incubator if you want to initiate your magical hero journey or if you want clarity or direction regarding this kind of work. I’ve seen evidence of folks using a variety of methods in order to contact an Incubator, namely through evocation, divination, and invocation/channeling techniques. If you are a solo practitioner looking for this communication, I would definitely recommend the routes of evocation and divination. Here is how I would go about contacting an Incubator:

Prepare a dimly lit space with a mirror, and/or perhaps a candle, where you can work with minimal distractions. Banish as you would normally and prepare to meditate.

Position yourself comfortably in front of the mirror or candle. If you have both, try to place the candle beneath the reflection of your face or off to the side—just try to not obstruct the view of your reflection.

Relax your body and begin meditating with your eyes closed. Try to not focus on anything in particular and steady your breathing into regular intervals.

When you are satisfied with your breathing, open your eyes and stare into your reflection with a soft gaze (as in, you do not have to fight to keep your eyes wide open). Try to keep your eyes open for as long as possible before blinking and repeating, all the while keeping your breathing regular.

After a bit, you may notice your reflection changing or distorting, or you may start seeing things on the periphery of your vision. This is when, I believe, an Incubator may approach you—either by appearing behind or beside you visibly in the mirror or by altering your reflection entirely. This is when you can initiate telepathic conversation. Try to keep your breathing regular throughout this experience.

At this point, you can continue communicating telepathically or introduce a divinatory tool. If you want to use a form of divination, I recommend something simple like using a pendulum or automatic writing—something that is not too complex or requires a lot of effort as to not distract you from your breathing or could potentially break your connection.

When you are satisfied, or the Incubator leaves, close your eyes and ease out of state. Snuff any lit candles and banish to clear the space.

This post is part of my Magi Praxis series. If you have any suggestions for future topics, or you have attempted anything I have shared and want you share your experiences, please send me a message! I am always happy to go back and provide further explanation as well. ☆

#chaos magick #pop culture magic #magi praxis #puella magi madoka magica #kyubey #incubator #summoning #divination #evocation #magical kid #magical girl #mahou shoujo #real magical girl #irl magical girl #irl mahou shoujo #magick #magia

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earth616variant · 2 years ago

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the send-off | s.r ; 4

summary | Being his best friend and assistant, Howard Stark asked you to be the first one to be tested on his time machine project. After some unexpected errors, you ended up stuck in the modern times of the 21st century. Where you meet the man you thought died years ago: Steve Rogers.

pairing/s | steve rogers x reader, avengers x reader

word count | 5k+

genres | angst, fluff, crack, time travel au, unrequited love au

warnings | mention of blood, idiots…

note | after months, here's a new update! finally found the inspiration to write again :)) I apologize for the long delay. anyway, let me know your thoughts on this one. enjoy reading!

series masterlist

“Ugh… What to do? What to do?” you hummed.

It’s been days since your arrival in this era. And so far, everything is fine. Confusing but fine. You were still having nightmares that always woke you up. But you didn’t bother to tell anyone about it. It’s probably a normal reaction.

Since the superheroes in the compound have alternative schedules for their missions, you found yourself rubbing shoulders with whoever Avenger is in the compound. It’s obvious that they don’t want you to feel excluded and made it clear that they don’t mind you asking questions if you find something puzzling.

You usually bond with the youngest one, Peter Parker, who is always around since he is, based on what he said, “a friendly neighborhood superhero”. It means that he doesn’t go out of the country, like Natasha or Steve, or even this state for a mission since he still has classes to attend and he explains that his aunt won’t let him go anywhere far and dangerous. Understandable, you thought. The kid is only sixteen. But for now, Peter is staying back with his aunt in their apartment while the others are on their missions. He has a schedule for staying between the compound and his aunt’s place.

Clint is with his family, who you heard lived in this secret farmhouse. Tony is probably home too. You don’t really know. You kind of feel that he avoids being alone with you. Wanda is resting in her room. You don’t want to disturb her as you saw her coming home earlier, looking really exhausted.

When he can, Steve also kept you company. Of course, you enjoyed talking to him about his life after the whole defrosting thing. But sometimes, you felt like a disturbance or a burden in his free time. You thought, maybe he just wants to rest. Perhaps he just feels bad for you. So, you try to not stay around him all the time if he’s home.

So, you really have nothing to do. You have books but you don’t feel like reading now. You have this novel that you liked so much, you just finished it today. The compound also has this large, flat television but you don’t feel like watching anything either. It’s not like you’re not used to being alone. You’re always alone before! But at least you have a job to take up all your time. With all this free time, you cannot help but miss doing something in the laboratory. Computing numbers or testing prototypes with Howard. You wondered if your best friend ever finished that flying car he kept on re-working. You figured, maybe not. You see that people in this modern time still use four-wheeled cars.

“Oh, hey, Doctor Y/N.”

Sometime in the afternoon, Bruce Banner went out to the kitchen to get himself something to drink. That is where he sees you, looking all bored and spacing out. You forced a smile at him and greeted him back,

“Hello, Doctor Banner.”

“Bruce. You can call me Bruce.” he smiled as he opened a can of rootbeer.

“Then, you can call me just by my name too,” you replied, tapping on the hardbound book you had with you. You tried not to be obvious as you examined his look. With his eyeglasses and white coat, you know he’s been working in his laboratory.

After taking a sip from his drink, he spoke, “What are you up to in here, Y/N?”

Hearing that question, you instantly sighed heavily, making your shoulder slump, “Nothing really. I’ve been watching the paint dry, Bruce.”

Thankfully, the scientist caught on to your use of words. He chuckled before asking you, “Do you want to go to the lab?”

You swore you jumped from where you were sitting when Bruce said that. He took it as a yes and you two walked together back to his laboratory. Instantly, you were in awe of the place. There are screens and machinery everywhere. You don’t understand how these new gadgets work but you cannot wait to hear about them. This is like something you dreamed of.

“Here.”

Bruce handed you a white lab coat and you immediately grabbed it, wearing it excitedly. Damn, you missed wearing it. You stood next to him in front of his messy desk, which is pretty normal. Notes were everywhere. Even pens and crumpled papers. You’re starting to miss your own messy work table.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Bruce spoke, referencing his desk.

You smiled, “It’s fine. It means you’re really working hard for something.”

Slipping your hands into the coat’s pockets, you wander around the spacious lab. You try to stop yourself from touching anything, fearing that you might mess something up. So like a little kid, your eyes just show your enthusiasm as you watch some type of liquid flow into a transparent tube.

“What are you working on?” you asked, turning your head to Bruce.

“Something that can help the world, hopefully.” he chuckled. He walked next to you, “It’s a serum that may help cancer patients.”

“That’s nice,” you whispered, eyes still distracted.

“Yeah. But it’s still an experiment. This is the first time I’m working on something like this again after I tried to recreate the super soldier serum.”

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him, “You tried to recreate that serum?!”

Steve did not tell you about that. No one told you that someone in the compound tried to recreate it. You always wondered what Dr. Ernskine did to that serum since it seems very impossible to reproduce. But now that you’re in this modern era, people have more resources and findings. Maybe Bruce succeed.

Bruce stared back at you with a small smile, “It’s what brought me here, Y/N.”

“Cap. You okay?”

Tony asked as soon as he made sure the auto-pilot was set on the plane. Instead of answering, Steve grunts while pressing a hand on the right side of his stomach. Blood was gushing out from the stab wound he got from this mission. Bucky, on the other hand, also earned bruises on his face and small cuts on his arm. The two admittedly underestimated this mission. They didn’t expect that a hundred members will show up in this cult-like mob they raided. Thankfully, Tony was able to answer an emergency call.

“Those guys really got you cornered. Whoever stabbed you would probably brag about the fact he got to stab Captain America. Too bad he died.” Tony quipped, trying to lighten the mood. He signaled to Bucky to pass him a bandage.

Steve listened with exhaustion running in his veins. He breathed out as he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the surface behind him.

“You know, you got to be more careful now…” Tony suddenly spoke, sounding a bit serious. Steve opened his eyes and look at his friend who was focused on cleaning his wound. It took minutes of silence– since Tony made sure that his wound won’t get infected– before he continued, “You have a girlfriend waiting at home.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Tony,” Steve replied sternly.

His best friend still managed to chuckle at that. Steve groaned when Tony slightly applied pressure to his wound. Not that Steve doesn’t like the idea of you as his romantic partner, he just doesn’t want to tolerate this kind of teasing from his friends. They might get used to it and make you uncomfortable whenever you’re with him.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Okay, whatever. But my point is you are Y/N’s closest friend in the compound right now and I don’t think she will like seeing you come back like this. I mean, you already died before and Dad told me a lot of things that happened.”

Steve tilted his head quizzically. He looked at Bucky who shared the same expression on his face.

“What–”

“There.” Tony got up as if he didn’t just say something. He pointed at Bucky. “And you too, buddy. Bring more backup next time. Something worse could have happened. You’re lucky I’m just another country away for a presentation.”

He walked back to his seat as the pilot, ignoring the confusion and curiosity from the two a-decade-old super soldiers.

“That was your last memory?”

Bruce sat in front of you, typing on his laptop as you nodded an answer. A couple of hours after inviting you, you two ended up just chatting in his laboratory. Bruce told you about the time he recreated the supersoldier serum. You learned his history and how he joined this league of superhumans. He was open to sharing his struggle in accepting his power and learning to control himself from being Bruce and the Hulk.

After that, he ended up giving you a tour of his laboratory. You would share how a gadget you had before evolved into what he has now in these modern times. Your curiosity about these said gadgets made his offer to teach you whenever he can and you happily agreed. Although you’re still unsure if you’re staying here for the rest of your life, you think that it will be good to adapt in the meantime.

“The time machine…” your voice trailed off as you brought up the topic. “How did you and Tony make it?”

You’ve been wanting to ask someone about their version of a time machine here. But since Howard’s son was a bit distant, you get to talk about it with Bruce now.

Bruce shakes his head, “It was unsuccessful.”

“It brought me here.” you countered, pursing your lips.

The air around you two was suddenly all serious and Bruce feels it. You were just wondering how they built their time machine. How did they make it work? It was seemingly more successful than Howard’s. Was it because of the current and upgraded technologies? Did they use different formulas than Howard? Did they make their own original version that was way different than what you and your best friend worked on in the past?

Bruce looked at you for seconds like he was contemplating if he should tell you. Then, he exhaled, removing his glasses.

“Tony brought the blueprint and basically the whole plan for it months ago. He said he found it when he was digging up in his dad’s office in their old house.”

“Wait.” your eyebrows scrunched together as you paused. You take your time processing his answer. You made sure you understood it by saying, “So… it was originally Howard’s… The blueprint for it?”

He nods, “Yes, Tony found it along with other plans his dad never worked on. We just used other materials than the outdated ones...”

You didn’t really listen to the rest of his words when you heard the first sentence. Your eyes stared at some space. Never worked on? He means, Howard made this plan and never worked on it? Does it mean that if your best friend just worked it, you could have been back earlier than this era? Your hand slowly pressed a hand on your chest and you felt your heartbeat getting quicker Bruce quickly noticed it and you looked up at him with your eyes screaming in confusion and surprise, hurt.

“When did Howard plan it?” you asked. Your voice was weak and you almost said it in a whisper.

Although confused, Bruce replied, “1977. It was written on the bottom of the blueprint.”

Your brain was quick in computing it. It was thirty years after your disappearance. You feel like shaking as you blinked away the tears that were blurring your sight.

“W-Where can I find this blueprint? I want to see it.”

The change in your tone and expression made Bruce ask, “Y/N, are you okay–”

“Where?” you asked again instead of answering.

“Uh, Tony has it.”

You ran your palms all over your face, calming yourself down. You breathe out. You knew you had to stop yourself from crying as you cannot stand doing it again. It’s pointless. You’ve been tearing up ever since you came here and you have never been this vulnerable. You don’t like it. Before Bruce can repeat a word, you sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I… I was just surprised Howard planned on building another time machine and never made a move on it.”

Bruce hummed quietly and replied, “It’s fine… Everything must have been a lot to you.”

You chuckled, trying to lighten up the atmosphere, “Yeah, it’s a real bummer and I think it makes me blow a fuse really easily. I swear I was never this emotional.”

If he did it, would I have come back earlier?

The question floats in your head as you set your eyes on the quiet lake just outside the compound. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. The sky was already dimming down as the sun already set. Nature was quiet and the only loud thing was your brain with all these questions you were asking yourself.

There was a part of you who wished you shouldn’t have just asked Bruce. Maybe you wouldn’t feel this way. But you were always curious about things, so you asked. And here you are, having this moment. As if knowing about Howard’s plans is not enough, you still had thoughts if you can ask Tony about it. You let out an exasperated, hopeless exhale. Maybe not.

“Dr. Y/N!”

You snapped out of your deep thoughts when you heard your name. Turning your head to your side, you spotted Peter approaching with a smile on his face. He waved his hand, and your lips form a small smile.

“Hey… I thought you were staying with your aunt tonight?”

He sat beside you on the green grass, “I’m just staying here until nine. Then, I’ll go back home. I dropped by to see if you’re baking tonight.”

You giggled, “Well, today’s not your lucky day, kid. But I think we still have a few brownies in the jar from the other day.”

“I checked. It’s already empty.” he feigned disappointment, holding his chest, and you two chuckled. “How was your day here, doc?”

“Boring. I haven’t really done much. Bruce saw me in the kitchen earlier and invited me to his lab. I just miss doing something again.“ you confessed with a hint of frustration in your tone. “How about you, kid?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Eh, just school. I and my friend Ned ended up in detention because he cannot stop talking about this new movie during chemistry class. Then, our other friend, MJ joined us since she said she enjoys going to detention. We planned to eat something after but MJ has a part-time job to go to.” Peter shared and you feel that he was pretty satisfied with how his day went.

“Well, at least one of us got to bond with their friends,” you scoffed. “I have to get used to my friends being superheroes.”

“They are usually busy, aren’t they?”

You nod, “Yeah. It actually made me feel jobless.”

You two laughed at that. You resumed, “I can’t believe I finished two books in a short period– Speaking of books, I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.”

“For what?”

“Oh, you know that novel I’ve been reading these past few days?”

“Ah, the one with the whole time machine plot too?”

“Yes. I… I really loved the book. Is there any way I can reach out to the author? Maybe write them a letter? I just really want to let them know that it’s a good story.”

Maybe it’s because of a lot of free time on your hand. But you just really adored the plot and the novel itself. You found it in the new releases section of the bookstore you went to days ago. But the story was set around your time, in the 40s, and mainly revolved around time traveling, which initially pulled you into buying it. It was accurate by the era it was in, and it made you feel closer to where you came from. Now, you just finished it and it was beautiful even though it was left on a cliffhanger. It causes you something to look forward to.

“We can try to reach out. Maybe they have e-mail. It’s faster than sending them written letters.” Peter suggests.

You cocked an eyebrow, “What’s an email?”

“Oh, it’s electronic mail. It’s like the modern type of exchanging letters with other people. Instead of asking for the person’s home address, they can just give you their email address. Then, you can send them a message with the computer or cellphone.” he explains and you nod.

“How about your laptop?”

He nods, “Yeah, we can also use that.”

You two ended up walking back to the compound. Peter helped you with creating your own e-mail address and typing your message to the author. You wanted to learn and get used to with using this gadget so you offered to type yourself. He was patient enough to teach you with the keys on the keyboard as you type.

“So, it automatically saves itself as a draft?”

You moved the cursor on the screen as you glided your index finger on the touchpad of his laptop. It wasn’t a long message but it was genuine. You re-read the whole thing again before passing the laptop to Peter.

“Yeah, what’s the name of the author again?” the boy asked before opening a new tab in the browser.

“Oh, wait…” you reached for the book and read the huge, bold name written on the front cover. “It’s… Donald S. Burton.”

“Okay, we can look for his website. Maybe he has his contacts there.”

His voice trailed off when he began typing on the search bar. It never fails to amaze you how fast this thing can give you answers. It’s like all of the books in the library were compiled into this gadget. Peter input the name and a list of information about Donald S. Burton showed up. There were even images of the man. You cannot help but smile when the old guy reminds you of someone familiar.

“Here is his email!“

“I like these. What are these again?”

Steve smiled at your curiosity, “Chicken nuggets.”

“Okay. Chicken nuggets,” you repeated. “I wished we had these in our time. I love these and these sauces. And of course, this sundae!” you exclaimed before taking a scoop with the tiny spoon.

Just a couple of days after you talked with Bruce in the lab and sent an e-mail with Peter’s help, you found yourself having a picnic with Steve just around the city. It was a quiet park in the busy city. It was a Tuesday so there were fewer people in the place. He invited you with it after he got home from his mission.

“Should I bake or make something?” you asked him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We’ll be ordering food on the way to the park,” he replied.

“Are the others coming too?” you asked again.

He shook his head, “I… didn’t ask them.”

“Why didn’t you ask them?” you raised an eyebrow.

Steve seemed to be caught off guard. Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Peter, who were also in the living room when you asked, smirked and looked at each other knowingly when they saw their leader’s frozen reaction. He stood there awkwardly with his hands on his hips. Natasha was the first to break the silence.

“I’ll be training,” she said.

The others caught on to it and spew their reasons too. Peter chimed in, “I have a ton of homework to do, Doc.”

“I’m visiting my sister in Louisiana,” Sam explained with a scoff. That made you squint your eyes at him. Then you looked at Bucky, waiting for his reason. He seemed frozen like the gears in his head is turning.

“I… uhm… I’m…”

“He’ll help me with training.” Nat saved him. “We’ll do some planning with the next mission.”

So that’s how you and Steve ended up alone on this picnic, which you don’t mind. You had a fun ride going here. He lets you play songs by connecting your rarely-used phone to the car’s stereo.

“How did you learn about that song?” he asked when American Pie played.

You smiled, “Natasha. I heard it from her.”

You ordered food from a fast food chain through a drive-thru. It was exciting as Steve ordered meals you didn’t try before. When you arrived at the peaceful park, you insist on helping him with bringing stuff. He just made you bring the blanket while he carries all the other things. When you found a perfect spot, you laid the gingham blanket on the green grass. You sat comfortably in your casual floral dress before you two began eating.

“Thank you for this, Steve.” you smiled.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for coming with me. I haven’t been on a picnic with someone for a while.” he said.

“You know, before I got in the time machine, I went picnic with my neighbors.” you shared, remembering that day with the Smiths.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones?!” he asked with surprise.

Your ears perked when you heard that. The Jones were your neighbors before the Smiths. They are the last ones Steve knew since he and Bucky would sometimes fetch you if you were hanging out somewhere. The said couple was a bit grumpy, to be honest. They can hear even the smallest noise you would make in your apartment and would always let you know they don’t like it.

“Oh, no. They moved out months after you disappeared. Another family occupied their space. Susan and Robert Smith. They have this little kid named Donny. They are much nicer.” you joked.

“Well, that’s nice. I missed a lot of things while on ice.”

“It was only two years, Steve. Nothing much happened.” you snorted, finishing your sundae.

“A lot of things can happen. I know Howard found the Tesseract while searching for me on the ice… Share some things that happened in those two years.”

“Okay…” you exhaled. “I bet you already know that they tried making a series after Captain America vanished. You became an icon. Have you seen it?”

You laughed when you saw Steve hissed, “I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, it was bad.” you cracked up. You only watched that once. You don’t like how they painted Peggy into a character named Betty who was always a damsel in distress. Peggy had complained about it too.

“Anyway, we– Howard and I– tried for like a year to search for you. But he would usually be the one to go on sites and I would always try to come with him. He needs more convincing but it always works.”

Howard often says that going in the field can be dangerous and you would fight back over and over again. You were glad you did because you were with them when they found the Tesseract.

“What convincing did you do?”

“Well, I would say that I’m his assistant. My job is technically following him around. Then when he says no, I’ll say that I am his best friend. I still do have my last reason if he denies me of coming with him.” you said.

“And what is it?”

You paused and just stared at him. Chewing on your bottom lip, you hmmed. It was like you were thinking if you should tell him the last reason for Howard to let you go with him. Steve waits. He tried to be comfortable as he leaned back with his arms resting behind him. He hoped he doesn’t look much curious or nosy. After what felt like an eternity, you spoke.

“It’s… It’s that I am the last one you spoke to while you were on that plane.”

You looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. You tried to just look at the trees and people from the distance than just look at Steve. Your chest felt heavier when you remembered that time Steve fought that skull and had control of that plane. Steve didn’t say a word so you continued to explain more, just to get it off your chest.

“It would always work since he fully knows that I have guilt living in my system after the country lost you.” you chuckled bitterly. “I felt awfully bad that I cannot do anything to help you during that situation.”

When your voice shook uncontrollably in the last words of your sentence, Steve sat back up and you can see the sympathy in his blue eyes. He reached out for your resting hand, instantly caging it in his warm hands.

“Y/N… none of it was your fault. It was already a dead-end situation. I was the one who chose to crash it.” he tried to reassure you.

“I know, I know,” you mumbled, tears slipping from your eyes. “But I cannot stand losing another person in my life that time, Steve.”

Your tearful eyes met his concerned ones. “We just lost Barnes earlier that year. And I really just can’t lose you… I tried to think of something. Howard was in the same room while I was talking to you on the phone. We tried to make a plan but we don’t have any idea where the hell the plane was and it was moving really fast. It was really bad. I felt helpless. I thought I might have been able to do something to help you but we have no time. I hate that all I can do is talk to you on the phone, hoping that you won’t feel alone, while I prayed silently for some miracle to happen. And it was crazy because I don’t even remember the last time I prayed before that moment.”

By the time you finished talking, you were full-on sobbing. Your chest heaved and your cheeks were damp from your salty tears. Steve held your hand. His thumb drew circles on it as he lets you cry for more. And when he felt you calming down, he uttered:

“Staying in that call with me until the end was enough for me. I appreciate you for handling yourself very well and being calm with me that time. You are amazing. And you don’t know how relieved I am when I knew you were the one who answered the call. Thank you.” Steve said softly, offering a small smile as he looked directly into your eyes. “You already did much more you know for me that time.”

2/19/1945

Y/N arrived with puffy eyes today. I knew it before she even removed the black sunglasses she had on. I already told her the day before that she have the choice of not going to the laboratory today. But she still did. It was quiet the whole day in the lab. We both tried to act busy like nothing much happened. Due to the events of these past two weeks, I’ve been getting telephone calls from a lot of people. I chose to ignore them because I know it has something to do with Rogers’ disappearance and I’d been hearing they want to make the serum like Ernskine’s. I honestly think that it would be hard to “remake” Captain America ever again. She didn’t eat anything for the whole day even a cup of coffee. I insisted on walking her home, saying I have to borrow her old research about the future of computers. She said she’ll just bring it tomorrow but I said I need it urgently even though I really don’t. In fact, I have nothing to do with her research. I just had to make sure she’ll get home safe. I thought it was a good idea to just walk with her instead of asking Jarvis to drive us. But boy, I was wrong. The loss of the nation’s superhero is plastered all over the place. I tried distracting Y/N by telling her about the funny encounter I had with a girl months ago. I never told her about it before because I know she doesn’t like that I cannot commit to a single girl. But I have no more story to tell at the moment. It was a relief that she let out small laughs and smile at it. Although the smiles didn’t reach her eyes, I hope she felt better for a bit. She was about to say some advice or something when she suddenly froze. Her lips formed into a frown and I see tears forming in her eyes. I follow where her eyes lay and it was the newspapers. WE NEED A NEW CAPTAIN. The headline was printed in big, bold letters. Eye-catching. “They cannot just replace Steve like that.” It was a whisper from her. I hate that all I can do is sigh. Two minutes later, we reached her apartment. She handed me her research and thanked me. She smiled. But it was forced, I know.

As I am writing this letter, I am thinking of leaving this city with Y/N for a vacation somewhere away from here. I don’t know if she will like that. Maybe she won’t. Maybe I’ll just settle on walking her home with another made-up reason from the back of my head. I don’t know. I just feel helpless seeing her like this again after Barnes’ and now, Rogers’ death. Even so, I’ll always make sure that she will be alright.

H.S.

Tony removed his eyeglasses as he finished reading. His index finger traces the handwritten words by his father, sighing in the process. He can hear his father’s voice with each word in it.

“Tony, we need to go. We should fly at six!” Pepper’s voice cuts off his thoughts.

He stretched his limbs before replying, “Okay, honey. Just getting my glasses.”

Tony stared at the page again for a second before closing his father’s journal. He slid it onto one of the drawers on his nightstand and left.

THE SEND-OFF TAGLIST

@supraveng @sunflower-golden-vol6 @curi0usc4t @caitlyn-who @bitchy-bi-trash @stilltoomuchafangirl @matisse556 @ladybug05 @sunwoahkim @meanttobea @j69confessional2 @thenyxsky @swthxrry @justab-eautifulmess @7minutes-tomidnight @curlycarley @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @wisepenguin @shatfairy @coffeeshub @stillthatbetch @cosmicgirls-things @mediocre-m @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mrsjaderogers @themerc-with-a-mouth @slutdreams @royalwritersoftheuniverses @yunloyal @avengersinitiative2012 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @madnessinwrighting @lilizia @saintmagx @saranghaey @elmphoenix17 @animegirlgeeky @t-stark35 @ameliabs-world @seijaelee @sully-stick-together @capswife @katdahlali @avengersgirllorianna

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@rosedpetal

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers au #steve rogers series #steve rogers enemies to lovers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers time travel au #avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #the send off steve rogers

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 9 months ago

Text

Nameless, Faceless: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

You arrive at his apartment building in ten minutes and immediately head to the floor his apartment is on. The second you step foot onto the floor, you know something is wrong. The feeling in your stomach hasn't gone away, it gets stronger. You knock on his door but he doesn't come to it.

"Hotch? It's me, Y/N. Are you in there?" you ask and knock again.

You take out your phone and call him but when you hear his phone ring from inside, you know something is wrong. You take out your gun and try the door knob which is unlocked. You push open the door and get hit with a wave of familiar energy--George Foyet's. You walk in slowly and notice a few things off the bat. Hotch's keys and briefcase are still by the front door, his phone is on the kitchen table, and there is a large bloodstain on the floor behind the couch. Upon further examination, there is a gunshot in the wall, tables and chairs are turned over, and Hotch is nowhere to be found.

If Hotch is dead, you would have seen his spirit here. Though, he has been stabbed multiple times by George Foyet. How he got in, you're not sure but the entire attack is played over and over to see exactly what went down between the two men. If you're going to have hope in finding Hotch alive or dead, you need help from someone you know who can track him.

"Overtime shift. Penelope speaking," Pen says when you call her.

"Pen, it's Y/N. I need you to listen really carefully. Something's happened to Hotch."

"What do you mean, something?"

"He's been stabbed. There's blood on the floor but he's not dead. I would have felt him otherwise."

"Oh, my God," she gasps.

"I need you to send police and FBI techs here right away. Everyone available."

"Do we need an APB?"

"Only on Hotch. I saw his car outside."

"Someone took him?"

"Yes, I believe so. There's a lot of blood here and a gunshot in the wall. Just get people here."

"Okay, I'm sending an army."

"Pen, I'm gonna have to tell Spencer because he and Em are expecting me back but you can't tell the others. They cannot be distracted. I'm only telling you and Spencer."

"Okay. I'm calling everyone."

You hang up on her and immediately call Spencer.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Listen, don't tell Emily this but something bad happened to Hotch. He's been stabbed."

"What?"

"He's not here but there is a lot of blood here and I felt Foyet's energy here."

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Is that Y/N?" you hear Emily in the background.

"I can't come back but just tell Emily and Dr. Barton that I'm away on an emergency. Don't tell the others. They can't be distracted right now."

"What's going on? Is this about Jeffrey?" Dr. Barton asks.

"No, it's unrelated."

"We only have a few hours left here."

"I'm really sorry, I have to take this phone call, okay?"

"What could be more important than my son right now?"

"I assure you, this will take one second. Please, I promise." Dr. Barton walks away and joins Emily's side to go over the files that Penelope has sent over. "What happened?"

"There's a gunshot hole in the wall. I'm guessing it's a .44 but there isn't any blood or tissue spray around it. Hotch wasn't shot."

"Any idea how he got out?"

"Foyet carried him. Hotch was stabbed but there aren't any blood drops anywhere. His body might have been wrapped in something.

"Is he...?"

"Dead? No. I would have felt him."

"Are bureau techs on the way?"

"Yeah, Penelope called everyone. She's the only one who knows."

"Alright, write down everything you see. We'll profile from your notes when you get back."

"How's Dr. Barton?"

"It's a huge list of cases to go through with him."

"Okay, I've got this here. You have Emily with you. Just stay focused."

"Alright, you too."

"What's wrong?" Emily asks when Spencer hangs up with you.

"Nothing. Y/N's been called away on an emergency not related to the case, but it's fine."

That answer seems to satisfy Emily but not Dr. Barton.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm confident that the three of us can do this together. We know he's been killing Hispanic males as surrogates. Did you separate the case files?"

"Yeah."

"How many of the surgeries fit the criteria?"

"Eight-two."

"Let me ask you this. On how many of those dates did you operate on somebody else as well?" Emily wonders.

"Seventy-five."

"Did any of those patients die on the table?"

"Eleven."

"That's where we start. This whole thing is about choice. He's forcing you to play God with your son because the last time you had a choice, your decision devastated him."

"I'm a doctor. I save people."

"It doesn't matter to him," Emily says. "All that matters to him is that you had an alternative and you didn't take it. Now, how many of those surgeries involve patients under twenty?"

"Six. I get a lot of gunshot wounds, mostly gang-related."

"Has a gang or family member ever threatened you?"

"No. At first, when you lose someone it's mostly confusion and devastation. The anger comes later."

Emily and Spencer go through the case files that fit the criteria and come up with six dates that could have been the trigger for the unsub.

"Alright, we have six dates where you operated on a Hispanic male on the same night a patient under twenty died. What we're gonna do is read the names and dates off to you, and you tell me anything you can remember, okay?"

"Okay," Dr. Barton sighs.

"Let's start with January 22nd. I have Tyler Hayes with multiple gunshot wounds. The next day, Brian Douglas was a hit-and-run victim with a lacerated aorta."

"No, not that one."

"March 15th, Devon Marks who was a heroin overdose, and Angela Harris who is another car accident victim in a single vehicle, bleeding into her brain."

"No, this is no use. I would remember if I was threatened."

"Did any of them ask you about your family?" Dr. Barton looks at the clock that is ticking down. "We have time."

"Okay," he sighs.

He tries not to think about his son and the danger he's in as he recalls the patients he's dealt with. The entire school day has gone by without a hitch but there are still a few hours before school ends. Derek, Rossi, and JJ have been very diligent in making sure Jeffrey and the other students are safe from the unsub.

"I talked to Detective Walker," JJ says, "The final bell is at 3:10. He's gonna have a SWAT unit in place at exactly 3:00 to escort kids out. We'll need you to gather the students at 2:45."

"This could all be happening now," the principal argues.

"If the unsub sees us evacuate early, we feel certain he'll kill another random citizen, and this also buys us a day to try and discover his identity. So, we'll have school buses for evacuation, and teachers can brief parents who are here to pick up their kids."

"The key is to keep Jeffrey isolated and avoid panic with the other students. If we can do that, everybody gets out of here safe," Rossi explains.

"Have you cross-checked all the records of employees in the building against Dr. Barton?"

"Garcia's on it."

Derek calls Penelope who answers eagerly.

"Y/N?"

"No. Sorry, baby girl, just little old me. You're out of luck."

"Right. Sorry."

"Did you finish the background check on everyone in the building?"

"Yeah. There's no red flags, no felonies, and no connection to Barton."

"That's god. Alright, I gotta go. There's about to be a bell."

"Alright. Be safe," she sighs.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

"Yeah, I hear you. Let's just get this kid home safe and we can all sleep."

"Right."

As soon as Penelope hung up with Derek, she called multiple hospitals in Virginia in hopes Hotch was in one of them. No one has seen or heard of a man named Aaron Hotchner, though one of the hospitals did have someone named Derek Morgan show up recently. With this news, she immediately calls you.

The FBI techs and police did come quickly while you stayed off to the side and replay what happened over and over again. You're not sure how Foyet got into Hotch's apartment but he waited for him and threatened him with a gun only to shoot the wall. They both got into it and knocked some shit over only for Foyet to stab Hotch multiple times. Every time you replay the scene, it leads to more questions than answers.

How did he get in? Why didn't he kill Hotch? Why stab him and take him to a hospital? Your phone rings and you pick it up when you see it's Penelope calling.

"Hey, what's up?"

"I called hospitals to see if Hotch had gotten himself admitted to an emergency room. He's not listed as a patient but someone dropped a John Doe off at St. Sebastian Hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan."

"Foyet took Derek's credentials."

"Why would he drop him off at the ER?"

"I don't know. I'm headed over there right now. I'll call with an update as soon as I get one."

You quickly send a text to Spencer to let him know what's going on so he doesn't freak out about the state of his boss.

Hotch is in St. Sebastian Hospital. I'm headed over there right now. I'll call when I have an update.

Spencer reads the message as soon as it comes in. He knows Hotch is in good hands if you're the one looking after him.

"Are you sure she's okay?" Emily asks when she notices his worried look.

"Yeah, she's fine. She's just giving me some updates."

"I don't understand. These surgeries are all hours apart. I didn't have to choose between patients. If he's punishing me for my choices, none of these fit," Dr. Barton groans in frustration.

"Alright, look at the note again and compare it against the wording on the charts. A lot of times an unsub will unconsciously mirror the wording of situations." Something suddenly comes to Dr. Barton which is evident in his facial features. "Do you remember something?"

"I don't know. It was right after New Year's. There was a car accident. One of the victims was Hispanic."

"New Year? I have it right here," Emily says. "On January 3rd, there was a two-car collision. You operated on someone named Hector Ledezma. That was your only surgery that night."

"I remember that case. Someone else came in, but I didn't operate on him. His name was Jason Meyers."

Spencer calls Penelope to gather more information on Jason.

"Garcia, I need you to find a patient in the system named Jason Meyers."

"He was admitted on January 3rd on life support. Oh, no. He was taken off the ventilator and declared legally dead three days ago."

"Who is his father?"

"Patrick Meyers, age forty-five."

"Get a photo into the school immediately. I think he's our unsub."

"Okay, it's on its way."

Spencer texts you an update on the current case since you're doing everything you can to take care of Hotch, which you appreciate. You can't do anything about Dr. Barton and his son, but you can find Hotch and figure out what's going to happen to him. As soon as you checked into the hospital, one of the doctors met with you and took you to the room Hotch was in. The second you see him, tears form in your eyes.

"He was stabbed nine times, but no major arteries were hit. It's a miracle he's alive."

"When will he wake up?"

"The anesthesia should wear off within the hour, but he's bound to be out of it."

"May I stay here?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

The doctor checks a few things before giving you some privacy. You pull up a chair next to his bed and stare at his unconscious body.

"You better not die," you say to him. "This entire BAU is my family and that includes you. Do you hear me, Aaron? Don't die."

You hate lying to your team and hope they're doing okay without you. Hotch's medical chart is hanging off the edge of his bed. Your curiosity makes you read over it as if you're going to understand what most of it means. You're very smart but you're not medically smart. However, the initial L.C. in the top right-hand corner grabs your attention. It's the same initial the unsub left on the note for Dr. Barton. You grab the chart and find the doctor at the nurse's station.

"Excuse me, what does L.C. stand for?"

"Living Children."

"Thank you." You walk back into Hotch's room and call Spencer. "I know what L.C. stands for. Living Children."

"Are you sure?"

"Hotch has it on his medical chart. It's administrative. It's when they're afraid a patient's gonna go on life support and they don't have a DNR order."

"What if the unsub was trying to tell Dr. Barton that he is actually the target and that he's gonna leave his son without a father?" The sound of a door opening catches Spencer's attention. "Barton!"

"What's going on?" There is commotion coming from his end and you hear something that chills you to the bone. A gunshot. "Spencer?" No answer. "Spencer, answer me. Please." Still, no answer and you get tears. "Spencer? I can't lose two people I love. Please answer me." Instead of trying to get him to answer, you hang up and call 911 to report the gunshot. "This is Special Agent Y/N from the FBI. I need police and an ambulance to 120 Kensington Road, Mclean, Virginia. Shots were fired and a federal agent is possibly down."

Spencer lays in front of Dr. Barton with a gunshot wound in his knee from the unsub. The unsub was targeting Dr. Barton but got Spencer instead.

"Are you hit?"

"No."

"Get my gun. Get my gun!" Spencer urges.

Dr. Barton scrambles for the gun before the unsub can fire off another shot. Spencer grabs his gun and points it at the unsub.

"Get away from him!"

"Whatever you do, stay down," Spencer says to Dr. Barton before facing the unsub. "Drop the gun!"

"Don't protect him. He killed my son!" Patrick says emotionally.

"He did not kill your son. Your son was killed in a car accident."

"Stand up!" he yells at your boyfriend.

"I'm gonna ask you again, please drop the gun. I do not want to shoot you."

"Stand up, you coward!"

"Mr. Meyers, listen to me. Dr. Barton did not kill your son. Your son was killed by a car, and this is not what he would want. Okay? So, drop the gun. Please."

His words seem to get through to Patrick because he lowers the gun. Tears are streaming out of his eyes, he looks like he's in so much pain, and he doesn't know who or what to trust. Sirens can be heard from down the street no doubt from the call you made to 911. The unsub raises his gun toward Spencer and Dr. Barton.

"Don't do it."

"I'm sorry."

Before Patrick can fire, Spencer shoots him in a spot that's not fatal. Dr. Barton turns to Spencer to help him but the young doctor waves him off.

"I'm fine. Go to him. Kick his gun away. Make sure his gun is not near him."

Dr. Barton kicks the gun away before assessing the wound on Patrick.

"No, don't touch me. Oh, I want to die. Oh, don't touch me," Patrick weeps.

"I need to stop the bleeding."

"Let me die."

"The medics are almost here. Can you keep him stabilized?" Spencer asks.

"Yes, I think so." Seconds later, the ambulance and police arrive. "Hold on, they're right here. Help is coming, alright?" They get out of their car and rush over with equipment. "We need a backboard and a C-collar. Put pressure on this right here. Call ahead to the ER and tell them they got a GSW to the thoracic cavity, and have him redlined to the OR stat."

"You got it."

"Don't touch me," Patrick cries.

Dr. Barton approaches Spencer and inspects the wound on his knee.

"It looks like it went clean through."

"You might have just saved his life."

"Keep pressure on this, okay?"

The team arrives with Jeffrey, and Spencer nods to the doctor's son.

"I'm good, I'm fine. Go to your son."

Jeffrey and his son embrace in a tight hug while the team joins Spencer's side with worry on their faces.

"Are you okay?" JJ asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"We'll get you to a hospital."

"No, you need to call Y/N. She's at the hospital with Hotch. He's been stabbed by Foyet."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

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silverflqmes · 11 months ago

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ignore that im on my selfship account it’s luma lmao

some selfship questions for u and tooru <3

•does tooru get you flowers? if so, what kind?

ldoes tooru like to read books with you? or does he secretly collect all your favs and binge read them?

•what shows do you watch together?

•have you guys had any thoughts on marriage? (sorry if this makes you uncomfy i’ll note it for the future)

•do you guys match icons on like tumblr or insta?

•what couple do you resonate you and tooru with? like for example me and scara kinda resemble harley quinn and the joker (minus the toxicity)

•what video games do you guys play together? if you play genshin together, who does he main / what team does he use and do you do cute genshin couple things?

hi luma! no worries, i figured it was you😭 woohoo selfship questions, i’ll do my best to answer those<33

— tooru is the flower giving type!! i think he’s the kind of person to read into flower language and symbolism cuz like, it’s tooru.. he never does anything haphazardly and always wants to provide the best, so he definitely looks into their meanings before choosing accordingly depending on the occasion or mood<3 red roses are a common ( given their symbolism for love and passion ), forget me nots are also some he frequently sends ( often as a reassurance to me, along with himself ), daisies ( he remembers how i used to really like them as a kid, and brings them as a reminder of those times ) and a combo between lily of the valley and larkspur ( they’re the flowers of our birth months<3 )

— i think he would show interest in what i read and i would beg him on my hands and knees to read my favs, specifically the folk of air series, to scream with him!! bonus if he decided to annotate and swap copies with me so we could read each other’s comments<3 furthermore, he serenades me to sleep by reading on stressy nights :’) and just cuz his voice is so<3

— definitely star wars oriented shows.. the clone wars has consumed us wholly and we have not recovered from the siege of mandalore.. sitcoms FOR SURE, i love friends a completely normal amount, seinfeld too, modern family, big bang theory, king of queens, etc. anyway, other than that we’d probably watch a lottt of slice of life / romance anime since it’s super comforting and silly<333 although some shonen anime make certain exceptions ( owari no seraph my love ) OH AND CARTOONS BC OLD SPONGEBOB HUMOR >>>

— TOORU IS DEFINITELY A MARRIAGE KIND OF GUY and like same i want marriage too but later down the line cuz i wanna enjoy the youth and sillying around of dating.. but i think we would unironically refer to each other as husband n wife.. and act like a married couple.. proposing is gonna be a challenge because he wants to do it but i ALSO want to do it like babes let me get on my knee pls and propose to you like the king you are smh

— i don’t think tooru would be on tumblr, maybe he would be if he indulges in my nonsense.. so probably instagram!

— we are anakin and padmé for sure and take turns, although misaki and usui are definitely us too, as well as kuronuma and kazehaya ( THEY MAKE ME SO EMO AND NOT NORMAL )

— we play a lot of wii and ds games together pre timeskip, specifically super mario bros, mario kart, mario party, wii sports, just dance — all that jazz, and i would have begged him to indulge me in my tekken addiction despite the amount of times he would get his ass handed to him BAHAHAHAHA ( he’s petty bc i use asuka since she counters attacks ) now post timeskip, we would definitely play ssbu because it’s just sm fun ( a-and um um sephiroth…. ) — now i would get my ass handed here instead.. and of course we cannot forget the hit game GENSHIN IMPACT!!! bro mains either tartaglia, ayato or alhaitham because i am not normal about them and he makes it a goal to tease me using them.. think he probably uses vaporize a lot to stick to my synergy or spread; as for couple things, we definitely take each other to pretty locations we found or help one another with grinding / quests. if there are also co-op games, those too!! for the rest, we’d probably take turns on ffvii since it’s single player and i have a tendency to throw a controller at someone when things get too heated.. prepare yourself tooru!! especially if sephi is the final boss..

#luma🫶#— ; 🏹 ) toorellie.#whoops i wrote too much..#I CANT DO ANYTHING WITHOUT BEING DESCRIPTIVE #ahem anyways thank you for the questions luma<3 i will send some soon LMAO

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coolingrosa · 3 months ago

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HI!! I don’t normally send in asks or anything of the sort but I just really wanted to say that I absolutely adore your work, I’ve been following Roseverse since like a year or so before the first chapter released and it’s been so wonderful seeing the series come to fruition. I love everything about Roseverse, from the writing to the characters (Although Dream is definitely my favorite overall!) and their designs, it is all done so well and holds a special place in my heart.

Roseverse has been one of my biggest inspirations when it’s come to working on my own take on the undertale multiverse (and hopefully eventually begin posting about it aswell) and I don’t think I would’ve had the courage to begin working on it had I not stumbled on Roseverse. It’s given me the confidence to be able to create and portray the things I want to in my own work and I cannot express the full extent of my appreciation for that in mere words alone.

So, overall, I wanted to send this in order to show my love and gratitude for you, your work, and all the others who have helped bring Roseverse to life. ^_^

I’m sorry if anything sounded silly or didn’t make too much sense by the way! I’m not really too good at wording things lol

ALSO AS A SIDE NOTE BEFORE I SIGN OFF: I LOVE YOUR DRINK ART! I LOVE DRINK!!! Your drink art provides me with so much sustenance …i love them sosososoo much

OK IN ORDER TO ENSURE THAT THIS IS NOT TOO LENGTHY.. TOODLES! I HOPE THAT YOU AND WHOEVER ELSE IS READING HAVE A LOVELY REST OF THE DAY NO MATTER WHAT TIME IT CURRENTLY IS FOR YOU!!!

THIS IS GENUINELY THE SWEETS4ST THING EVER 😭😭😭😭 I thank you greatly, anon, for sticking around so long to see RoseVerse flourish. The new elsewhere chaoter is giving me issues since I don’t have as much time to work on it, but coming along great and I’m so excited to keep writing this story for you all. Big things are coming to YouTube as well…stay tuned.

I’m so glad you love my drink content! I love them so much MY BABIESSSSSZ

#undertale #undertaleau #undertale multiverse #roseverse #cooling rosa answers silly stuff

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nottoofondofgaypeople · 1 year ago

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You should make a long post about Laurance

You are so lucky I got that Vylad ask before this... Ohhh boy

Full stop, this post is probably going to be one of the longest things I post on this Nether forsaken website. Laurance has been a comfort character since I first watched this series years ago in spite of all the bull shit Jesson put him through. I have many many many thoughts on him, and none of them will be organized.

I'm fairly confident that this post will get into some very unhinged territories, I cannot be normal about this man

I feel like this should go without saying, but all of the headcanons I have dumped onto Laurance on my main blog apply to this rewrite. Including this one which you have definitely all seen, and all Shadow Knight headcanons are also canon here.

But let's talk about this rewrite specifically. Because when Laurance comes back from the Nether, and he confesses his love, the mother fucker does it! He actually gets Irena to say she at least feels something towards him! It isn't much, but she doesn't get all awkward when he says that he loves her, and she's supremely gentle with him while helping him with his recovery. This really quickly turns into romance and the two are effectively dating shortly after.

Yeah Laurance's eyes aren't magically fucking cured to perfection, that's stupid an abelist.

Actually, because I want peak recovery arc material out of this rewrite Laurance is going to get to spend a lot of time learning how to fight with this new form. His body has been pretty significantly altered from the process of undeath and also the torture. I'm so for real when I say Laurance has so many scars, just so many of them, 18 million scars all over his everything. He already had some from being a stupid fucking child, but these ones are a lot uhm... bigger.

Laurance has to adjust to the new symptoms of his body. A lot of them are slow, appearing over time. The first major thing Laurance notices is that when he stops thinking of breathing for long enough, he just stops breathing. Shadow Knights don't need to breathe, so their body doesn't naturally do it. But Laurance never fully died, so he kind of does need to breathe?? And this is just where it starts.

I think the doll symptoms start kicking in a lot slower than I initially thought of. There's still the first time that it happens, but then it doesn't happen as often. Maybe once or twice, but the next time Laurance really deals with that is during the Season 1 finale (but it isn't Garroth that knocks him out (but that's a whole post unto itself)). Going into Season 2 though, it gets worse and worse. As the Shadow King has more influence over the Overworld, the calling gets stronger and stronger.

More often than not the calling manifests as a whisper in the back of Laurance's mind, something that sends a tingle down his spine and not in a good way. His blood runs hot, and he can feel his body pulled to Irena. Like his blood is tied to her life force and constantly trying to bring her to it. And any time he's around her, that voice gets louder, starts multiplying as he fights it, all of them demanding him to kill, to do it, to free himself of the burden, to gain eternal life.

Laurance doesn't want eternal life though!! He never has!! He wants to fall in love and start a family and grow old with his partners!!

Okay so going into Laurance's childhood a bit, I've said it before and I'll say it again, Laurance is the mcd equivalent of a theater kid and yet somehow fumbled in choosing his class and ended up as a fighter instead of a bard, the goof. He picked up the Lyre when he was a teenager, mostly because his father bought one and expressed an interest in teaching Laurance how to play, and he was all over that.

He stops playing it when he goes to the guard academy cause they just don't have instruments there (which is a crime), but he does still spend a lot of time remembering songs and finger placements, mans is doing whatever he can to make sure he doesn't fall out of practice. When Laurance comes back to Meteli as an official guard he celebrates by having a party in the town and finally getting to play his beloved lyre again.

He doesn't play it as much when he's a guard, but he always tries to stay in practice. And he won't let any blindness get in the way either, his muscle memory is so on point he barely needs his eyes unless he's reading sheet music, which is usually right in front of him.

I could seriously go into a whole character analysis of comparing Laurance to Orpheus, specifically from Hadestown, like I really want to, but I'll restrain myself to just the general myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Laurance really thought he could walk into hell and defy the gods. He really thought he could just do that. And even when he was faced with punishment, when Orpheus was forced to stay in the Underworld in her place, he endured it all for her. And actually this is so funky the roles are kind of reversed. Because Irena is the one who can't turn around to look at Laurance when they're running out of hell. If she does, she will die. That is guaranteed. Eurydice has always acted in the assurance of her survival. Unlike Orpheus in the same position, she can manage to not turn her head.

Hhhhhhg Laarmau as Orpheus and Eurydice is literally everything to me you don't understand.

And yes Laurance being Orpheus coded is why I gave him a Lyre, I won't even deny that. Like, c'mon, Laurance very earnestly trying to earn Irena's affection and saying "I also play the lyre" and Irena snarking back "A liar and a player too? I've met too many men like you." I'm--

Stay focused!! This is not the Hadestown post!!

What if Laurance was like obscenely physically affectionate? Like he's so so so physical, he loves having a point of contact with someone at all times. It doesn't have to be anything big either. He just likes wrapping his arm around Garroth's shoulder, or having Irena play with his hair. It was something important before the Shadow Knight transformation, and he only needed it more as time went on. The feeling of his lovers heartbeat reminds him he's alive.

And other people touching him reminds Laurance he still has this body. In spite of all the Shadow Kings control, he has control of his own body in this moment and he is using that control to show love and care and that matters to him more than anything. He likes holding hands, putting his hands on people, having other people do the same, even the smallest amount of affection is enough for him to selfishly crave more.

Laury likes singing a lot. His voice got a little deeper after the Shadow Knight thing because his vocal chords got just a little shredded in the Nether, but he still loves singing and singing with his friends and lovers. Laurance singing some sappy love song to Garroth who is just completely smitten, or singing some silly little campfire song to boost Cadenza's mood when she's having a bad day.

THE TABLE BIT!! I simply adore the table bit!! All of it! And it's even better in my rewrite cause even if the dialogue and the scene plays out almost exactly the same, they're in love while doing this silly bit!! Such fucking dorks I want to throw them against concrete.

Thinking about Laurance and Ungrith. Laurance finding this wyvern in the forest while exploring one day and befriending it almost instantly because Laurance is just a very kind person. Even if Ungrith isn't allowed to be with his brethren, it's okay because this weird fuckin kid is really entertaining and a genuinely great friend. I know it isn't possible but a scene where Laurance, Garroth, and their wyvern childhood friends get to hang out and talk would probably fix all my problems.

Raven doesn't literally anyone but Garroth touch him, but when Irena tells him about Ungrith, he's willing to let Laurance pet his scales or whatever you do to show affection to a flying lizard. It's not the same, but it's better than nothing.

Laurance's favorite place to kiss other people is on the cheeks, but his favorite spot to be kissed is the forehead. I think that he doesn't admit this to people, rather lets them figure it out. Both Garroth and Irena figure out Laurance likes kissing their cheeks a lot, like he does it constantly, especially because Garroth has freckles and Laurance is determined to kiss every single one of them.

Garroth is the one who learns about Laurance's affinity for forehead kisses cause he's only like two inches taller than Laurance, but that difference matters a lot to both of them. And Garroth can tell very easily from the way Laurance always loves looking up at him with those big doe eyes. Once he tells Irena this, she starts asking Laurance to bend over or kneel in front of her so she can kiss his forehead very tenderly.

Because I made Garrancemau polycule real in my rewrite, Laurance's calling latched onto Irena, but man oh man, it tempts him with Garroth sometimes. He fights so hard to protect Irena partially because if she dies by someone else's hands, he knows it'll latch onto Garroth. And sometimes the calling urges him towards it anyway, considering it'll work. A calling is best answered by the death of a lord, but the death of another guard isn't always a bad thing.

Every time Laurance runs from his lovers to fight the calling he feels so cold without them. Like if he bothers to try sleeping while on his own it just feels so cold. So empty. It doesn't feel right to try to sleep without Irena in his arms and Garroth snuggled up behind him and a blanket over the three of them.

I think Laurance cries a lot. He doesn't really have hang ups about showing his emotional side until he's a shadow knight, and even after, he only tries to hide his anger. He never hides his anguish, his sadness, his absolute misery as a result of the nightmare he was forced to live through. Laurance's crying is so loud, so wretched, almost agonizing for him. It forces his entire body to shake and tremble, sobs being wrung out of him almost forcefully.

I want. him. to be okay. and happy. and I know he won't be. Aughfhhg.

#minecraft diaries #mcd rewrite #minecraft diaries rewrite #text post #aphblr #mcd headcanons #writing #laurance zvahl #laurance mcd #minecraft diaries garroth #garroth ro'meave #mcd aphmau #mcd cadenza #mcd kenmur #way too long #so many words #gay block men

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andypantsx3 · 1 year ago

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andie can u give us some book recs?<33

Yes!! Although normally I think recs are best given in the context of your other tastes, because I find literary preferences to be a highly-individualized thing!! So without knowing what other books you love, idk how my recs will hold up.

But I will give you some of my personal recent faves!!

I have already talked at length about my favorite book of all time The Goblin Emperor, and I think I've already also recommended the Pink Carnation series to my fun silly regency romance lovers, so I will not go into depth on them here but those are easily my all time faves.

I forget if I have also already talked about Winter's Orbit so forgive me if this is repeat info for you!! But I absolutely loved this book.

SUMMARY: While the Iskat Empire has long dominated the system through treaties and political alliances, several planets, including Thea, have begun to chafe under Iskat's rule. When tragedy befalls Imperial Prince Taam, his Thean widower, Jainan, is rushed into an arranged marriage with Taam's cousin, the disreputable Kiem, in a bid to keep the rising hostilities between the two worlds under control. But when it comes to light that Prince Taam's death may not have been an accident, and that Jainan himself may be a suspect, the unlikely pair must overcome their misgivings and learn to trust one another as they navigate the perils of the Iskat court, try to solve a murder, and prevent an interplanetary war... all while dealing with their growing feelings for each other.

I really like the way Kiem's & Jainan's pictures of one another shift over the course of the narrative, and as you read them through one another's eyes you understand their unreliability in self-narration due to their own personal insecurities. And what I love is that they both strive to emulate the traits they grow to respect in one another and that becomes the key to defeating the forces working against them!! It's so masterfully done, very gentle and thoughtful, and I hope someday to write a book just like this.

As an aside the author also got their start on ao3 and has a tumblr account and you can really feel the love & respect for some of the fannish conventions in their work. Cannot recommend enough.

This is also so basic of me but I would be remiss if I did not also recommend Howl's Moving Castle which I recently reread. If you have seen the movie but not read the book, you are absolutely missing out because it's very much its own unique experience with several divergences from the plot of the movie. Sophie's perspective is hilarious, it's such a fond send up of men in general, and I love the extra argumentative element to Howl & Sophie's relationship we get to see here; I feel it adds way more depth to their characters and relationship and you will totally eat it up.

I also read The House Witch recently and would definitely recommend to fantasy fans who are in the mood for something wholesome and cozy!!

SUMMARY: When Finlay Ashowan joins the staff of the King and Queen of Daxaria, he’s an enigma. No one knows where he comes from or how he came to be where he is, which suits Fin just fine. He’s satisfied simply serving as the royal cook, keeping nosy passersby out of his kitchen, and concocting some truly uncanny meals. But Fin’s secret identity doesn’t stay hidden for long. After all, it’s not every day a house witch and his kitten familiar, Kraken, take to meddling in imperial affairs. As his powers are gradually discovered by the court, Fin finds himself involved in a slew of intrigues: going head-to-head with knights with less-than-chivalrous intentions, helping to protect the pregnant queen, fending off the ire of the royal mage, and uncovering a spy in the castle. And that’s only the beginning—because Fin’s past is catching up with him just as his love life is getting complicated . . .

It is not the most tightly-buttoned narrative, I think because there are several more books in the series that I haven't read yet, so there are lingering threads of an overarching plot I've not seen sewn together yet. But it's an extremely easy and accessible read and I again really loved the respect and admiration the characters grow for each other, even as they resist their feelings for one another.

This rec in particular though I can see people disagreeing with me on, as some of the humor is like kind of immature and you can tell the author is inexperienced and/or the editing team did not quite do their jobs as some of the ending felt forced or cobbled together. But overall I really did like this book, I thought the gems of a really compelling story shone through the little dirt there was lol.

I also cannot recommend most of Naomi Novik's work enough either. In particular I would recommend Spinning Silver (Uprooted too but that's wildly more popular and you might have already read it!!).

SUMMARY: Miryem is the daughter and granddaughter of moneylenders, but her father's inability to collect his debts has left his family on the edge of poverty--until Miryem takes matters into her own hands. Hardening her heart, the young woman sets out to claim what is owed and soon gains a reputation for being able to turn silver into gold. When an ill-advised boast draws the attention of the king of the Staryk--grim fey creatures who seem more ice than flesh--Miryem's fate, and that of two kingdoms, will be forever altered. Set an impossible challenge by the nameless king, Miryem unwittingly spins a web that draws in a peasant girl, Wanda, and the unhappy daughter of a local lord who plots to wed his child to the dashing young tsar. But Tsar Mirnatius is not what he seems. And the secret he hides threatens to consume the lands of humans and Staryk alike. Torn between deadly choices, Miryem and her two unlikely allies embark on a desperate quest that will take them to the limits of sacrifice, power, and love. Channeling the vibrant heart of myth and fairy tale, Spinning Silver weaves a multilayered, magical tapestry that readers will want to return to again and again.

Her prose is always immaculate, vividly descriptive but succinct enough to keep the story going at a driving pace. She always writes like the most compelling female POV characters, to me; driven and complex without falling into the trap of being ~so special uwu~ or ~angry murder girlie >:(~ which I feel so many authors end up flattening their FPOV characters into!! She is absolutely masterful at taking common ideas/tropes and turning them on their heads/fleshing them out in unique and interesting ways.

Lastly, I have also been reading through a bunch of MXTX's danmei series LOL. I haven't finished Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation so I can't quite give a coherent account yet but I have been enjoying it so far. What I can say is I like how conversational and silly her style is even while tackling gruesome and fairly problematic concepts, and I very much love the sweeping and single-minded focus the love interests always have on one another. She also is very good at writing unreliable narrators whose perspectives you don't really understand are unreliable until the end of the narrative, and it makes you fonder of them for all their self-doubt and strength in the face of hardships they try to downplay.

#no idea what ur going to think of my tastes LOL #but here u are~!!!!!#ask andie #book recs

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littlemourningstarr · 10 months ago

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Meeting other drow, being propositioned to work at a brothel, and running into vampires feels like just a normal day for Sekh, at this point. But what feels exceptional is Astarion admitting he misses him, every aspect and inch.

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, fantasy racism, soft Astarion, fluff, bath scene, edging, masturbation, vaginal fingering, blow jobs, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, dirty talk, cum play

Sekh stared at what seemed like just a quaint little building, as his companions around him bickered over if they were willing to go in.

Gods it was just a brothel.

“Absolutely not,” Wyll said.

“Scared of a little temptation?” Karlach asked, raising her brows and elbowing him. Wyll tried to push her off, but Gale echoed Wyll’s sentiment of having no desire to go in.

“We’re not going in for fun,” Sekh pointed out, only to have Astarion fold his arms and frown, as if he disagreed. Sekh chose to ignore him. “Look, we don’t all need to go in. We just need to find Valeria- it can’t be that hard. Besides-” Sekh cast a glance past the group at Yenna, who was looking around her in awe- as if she had never gotten this far into Wyrm’s Crossing, “I’m not bringing a child in there. I’ll go in-”

“And me,” Astarion pointed out, and Sekh just sighed.

“-And Astarion,” he added. “The rest of you can give the rest of the crossing a look- see how bad the bridge is into Wyrm’s Rock.” Sekh really didn’t want to relive the mess of getting past the last gate. Thank the gods they had helped those Iron Hand Gnomes, back at Moonrise. He wasn’t interested in his first real night in the city being spent in a jail cell.

Gale and Wyll seemed more than happy with this- but Karlach and Shadowheart both frowned, speaking over each other that maybe they had wanted to go in. Shockingly, Halsin seemed to not care- but he was quite distracted with Yenna, and Sekh was glad for that.

Lae’zel just looked bored.

“Okay, fine,” Sekh said, as Shadowheart and Karlach continued to argue the decision. He was going to get a headache already and the day had barely begun. “You two come with us.” Karlach looked about to burst with excitement, and Shadowheart grinned, looking like a predatory cat.

Oh gods he was going to regret this, wasn’t he?

Decision finally made, the four headed into Sharess’s Caress. It was lively inside, despite that it was early- the entrance room framed with a bar that boasted plenty of patrons already. Music could be heard from a neighboring room. Sekh had barely gotten to register anything beyond that, when a woman greeted them from a little desk, facing the door.

She clapped her hands together once, nearly cooing when her eyes caught sight of Sekh. “Oh, another drow. How lovely. Come here darling- what’s your pleasure?” Sekh turned to her, took in the wild blonde hair piled atop her head, her face older but attractive, lips painted the most vibrant red. Her dress cut so far up her thigh he could see the crease of flesh from her pelvis. “No no, let me guess.”

Sekh folded his arms, cocked a hip- intrigued. She studied him for a moment longer, before she snapped her fingers, a grin finding her face.

“I’ve got it- a sturdy dwarf, a leather whip- she gives, you receive.”

Sekh laughed, felt a bit of color rising on his cheeks. “Not my first choice,” he said, and she frowned, even as Karlach asked if she could take her up on that option. “But apparently my friend here might be interested.”

And, okay, there wasn’t really time- but if Karlach wanted to pay some coin for a little fun, Sekh wasn’t going to stop her. She deserved it, after so many years of forced celibacy.

He would have gone utterly mad.

The woman’s frown deepened, creasing her brow. “Unfortunately Ffion has gone missing, or I’d send you right up to her room- Elminster’s Library.”

Astarion barked a laugh so hard and loud he had to cover his mouth and turn away. Sekh heard him mutter oh I cannot wait to tell Gale.

This was going to be a long day, Sekh was sure.

“We do have options for other company, of course,” the woman said, now eyeing Karlach. “Drow twins, just through the curtains. There is nothing their skilled hands cannot fix.” She turned just her eyes back to Sekh. “Drow do quite well here, sweetling. If you might be interested in some work, you have a look that I know our customers would eat right up.”

Sekh fumbled for words for a moment- but a moment was enough time for Astarion to curl an arm around his waist, nearly draping himself against Sekh. “I don’t share him,” he said, and the look in his eyes was almost predatory.

Sekh suppressed a shiver.

The woman grinned then, offering a little chuckle. “Oh, now I see your type. I did have you all wrong. Still,” she waved them off, “I’m sure you bend the pretty little thing over and use him quite well.” She turned her attention completely back to Karlach, even as Shadowheart began laughing so hard she had to walk away. Astarion simply stared, eyes a little wide, completely caught off guard by the woman’s brass response.

Sekh chuckled himself, managed to say, “Oh I like her.” Astarion frowned, pulled away so he could face Sekh properly. “She has some nice ideas.”

He couldn’t keep the heat from his voice, or the way he knew his eyes were devouring Astarion. But the prospect of watching Astarion fall apart, of having his fingers inside him-

Well, Sekh quite liked it.

Astarion cleared his throat, glanced away- but Sekh could see just the faintest flush, to his eyes. He took the single step to him, leaned in and placed a very soft kiss to his cheek. “If you’re ever ready, know that I’m willing.”

Astarion moved to speak- but whatever he said disappeared in the excitement as Karlach was suddenly off, into the depths of the brothel. Lost to them, Sekh figured. Well, good for her.

They headed further in, turning into a curtained room where the music grew louder. The room had a liveliness to it, a few patrons enjoying their drinks, watching not only the music, but a gorgeous tiefling woman draped in jewels, dancing along a stage.

She was breathtaking.

Sekh elbowed Shadowheart, who followed his stare, her eyes going a bit wide, locking on the woman and not once leaving her. Astarion noticed their distraction, seemed content to watch as well for a moment.

Sekh forced himself to look away, noticed that across the room were a pair of drow. He said something to his companions, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears, as he turned and walked towards them.

“My, my,” the woman said, her eyes trailing down the length of Skeh’s body in a slow, lazy pace that seemed obscene and yet wonderful. “Aren’t you a special one- I can tell from just a glance.” Her smile was controlled but still petty. The man next to her folded his arms, gave Sekh an even longer once-over.

Sekh felt his pulse pick up. Still, he was more excited to see other drow. He hadn’t expected any in the city. “I didn’t expect to see other drow here.”

The woman smiled, and offered out her hand. “Nym,” she said, and Sekh took it, pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. Her smile grew, her eyes dancing in amusement. “And my brother, Sorn.”

“Pleasure,” the man said, stepping closer, taking Sekh’s free hand, and flipping it, pressing his mouth to his wrist. He glanced up at Sekh, could easily feel the momentary spike in his pulse.

“The feeling is mutual,” Nym said, “I can’t say we’ve seen many other drow lately. Just an endless line of surface dwellers.” She didn’t seem bothered by the fact- Sekh’s look must have given away a hint of concern, because she waved him off. “Your look is sweet, honey. Trust me- we’re much happier here, kissing the man lips of the surface, than tending a shop or- gods, manning a farm back in the Underdark.” She shuddered, and the man, Sorn, laughed.

“It’s very true, everyone is always so intrigued by us.”

“Life is easy, here.”

Sekh smiled, his concern melting away. If they wanted to use the surface’s curiosity about drow to their advantage- let them. He didn’t blame them. He couldn’t even say he hadn’t done it himself.

“Well, we are immaculate,” he teased, “how could they resist us?” That got him a round of laughter from both, and Sorn was reaching for him, taking his hand.

“You are a pretty thing,” he mused, “if you were interested, I would love to see how wicked you could be. Or,” he nodded towards Nym, “you can be as sweet as you like, with my sister.”

Well, that explained their resemblance. It didn’t even register as strange, to Sekh. He’d seen plenty, growing up. Heard far more than he should have, about his father’s work.

“I’m flattered,” Sekh said, “but I do have a…” he paused, settled on, “partner.”

“Oh?” Nym looked intrigued. “Four can be quite a party.”

And wasn’t that just a novel, lucious idea. Sekh had to admit to himself it was so tempting- to get to see Astarion fall apart, under another’s hands. He didn’t feel threatened by it in the slightest- Astarion was his, when the day ended.

And he was Astarion’s.

But… “I don’t think now is a good time for that,” he said, and Sorn actually frowned, said, what a pity. Sekh hadn’t even bedded Astarion properly since before they had reached the shadow cursed lands- he couldn’t fathom asking the vampire if he’d be alright sleeping with strangers, when he wasn’t even sure Astarion was comfortable with him, again.

Although, the man had welcomed Sekh’s presence, yesterday morning- in his tent, when Sekh had found him. He’d wanted Sekh’s touch, asked for it.

Maybe he’d want all of Sekh again, soon. Or maybe he wouldn’t- whatever the case, Sekh would accept it. He might have quite the fondness for sex, but his affection towards Astarion went well beyond that.

As if his thoughts could summon the vampire, Sekh was startled to suddenly feel his hand, on his lower back, as he leaned in slightly, taking in the other two drow. And making a very quick decision on what he seemed to think was going on.

“I’m sorry pet,” he said, and Sekh thought his eyes looked sad, “I’m not quite ready for this yet.”

“I wasn’t even thinking-” Sekh stared, a moment of terror taking hold. He didn’t want Astarion to think Sekh was willing to look elsewhere for release, if Astarion wasn’t ready. He didn’t want him to feel threatened, feel like he might owe Sekh sex-

“He already turned us down,” Nym said, smiling at them both. Her smile seemed real now, relaxed. “Quite the charming man you have- and quite the devoted one, to turn down the both of us for you. Although,” she took Astarion in, a quick glance that felt almost polite, despite what it was. “I can certainly see why.” She turned back to Sekh, “if you ever change your mind, come find us here. We’ll be happy to spend some time with you both. Or,” she paused for a moment, and her smile grew, “if you just want some company. We know the surface can be strange for drow.”

Sekh relaxed. He’d like that, honestly. Both options, if he was honest- but the sex could wait, indefinitely if Astarion said so.

Having another friend though? That was very welcome.

They found Valeria already half a bottle of wine deep, and unwilling to listen to them, even when presented with a murder weapon. The damn dried blood was still caked on the vile looking dagger. But it wasn’t enough for her.

Sekh had been very tempted to try and scare the damn thing into listening- but he hadn’t wanted to cause a scene in the brothel. He wasn’t trying to be permanently banned on his first visit. With mounting frustration, he left Sharess’s Caress, Astarion by his side. Shadowheart had stayed behind to wait for Karlach, and promised to find them shortly.

“The murders have something to do with all of this,” Sekh said, tapping on his forehead. As if on queue, his tadpole squirmed, and he grimaced. Gods he hated that feeling. “I just don’t know what yet- and it’s not like that stupid hollyphant would listen to reason anyway.”

He was scowling without meaning to. Astarion chuckled slightly, arms folded. “You’re a moment away from pouting, my sweet. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t let the drunkard get to you.”

Sekh sighed, but tried to relax. Astarion had a point- they would figure it out, because that was what they did. What they had been doing, since the Nautiloid. What they would continue to do.

Frankly, he just didn’t care for hollyphants. Asskissers to the divine, mostly. But he kept that to himself.

“Listen, about the drow,” Sekh said, feeling like they had brushed that off far too quickly- they had left and immediately gone back to business. “I wasn’t… I don’t want you to think I was looking elsewhere.”

Astarion shifted a little, and while he tried to appear cocky, with his shoulders squared and his chin lifted- Sekh could see through it. There was a muted panic, in his eyes. “You can look all you want, but I don’t see why you’d ever need to.”

Astarion didn’t believe his own bluster. It made Sekh’s chest cramp. He reached for the man, settled a hand on the curve of his waist, stepping so close he could smell the bergamot on Astarion’s skin.

“You’re right, I don’t need to.” Sekh inclined his head a little, made sure to keep Astarion’s stare- wouldn’t let the man look away. “You’re everything I’ll ever need, Starshine.”

Astarion let out the smallest of breaths, his stare wavering. He cleared his throat after a moment. “Don’t be so nice to me.” His voice was laced with mock annoyance, as if he wasn’t even trying to make it convincing. “It makes me want to be nice back.”

Sekh laughed then. “Oh what a shame. I guess you’ll just have to be nice to me.” He leaned in, pecked Astarion’s cheek- but before he could pull back, the vampire was reaching up, grasping his chin, holding him steady as he turned and stole a far deeper kiss.

Sekh sighed into it, eyes fluttering shut, utterly undone in a single breath. He’d gladly kiss Astarion until the sun burnt out. He’d kiss him into the endless darkness that followed.

“If I’m everything to you, darling,” Astarion whispered, “you should kiss me like I am.”

He was still so close, Sekh could feel his breath, with each word. “I don’t want to overstep,” Sekh admitted, and Astarion frowned, pulled back much to Sekh’s dismay. The vampire sighed, bowed his head, rested his forehead on Sekh’s shoulder.

“I’m sick of waiting,” Astarion mumbled, his hands moving to Sekh’s waist, squeezing affectionately. “I miss you.” Those hands slid to his hips, pulled Sekh against him- and the drow shivered. “I want you.”

Sekh forced himself to take a single, deep breath. He forced himself not to shove the vampire to the ground right there and climb into his lap, create a spectacle for all of Wyrm’s Crossing.

But gods was it difficult.

“And every bloody night i think I’m finally going to get you,” Astarion added, “someone else takes you.”

Sekh frowned. Yes, Shadowheart had interrupted what might have been their first night together in so long- but Astarion hadn’t hinted at his desire the previous night-

Oh.

Sekh forced Astarion to straighten up. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t think… Yenna seemed so nervous alone, and nearly jumped on the chance to have some company. I wouldn’t have-”

“You would have,” Astarion corrected, “even if you knew. Because you’re… sweet.” There was something then, in Astarion’s eyes. Something that didn’t feel right. Sekh wasn’t sure what it was, a sadness, an anger- he couldn’t decipher it, and before he could ask, Astarion was pulling back, turning Sekh away from him and the brothel, towards another building. “We’re never going to get anywhere just standing here making a spectacle,” he said, and Sekh didn’t argue-

But he filed away his questions, refusing to forget whatever had crossed Astarion’s eyes.

The building they entered next Astarion recognized, quite well. He told Sekh he’d found so many victims for Cazador here. There was a look of remorse, on his face, as he admitted it.

Sekh only took his hand, laced their fingers together, and squeezed. There wasn’t anything to say- what was done was done. But Astarion had never had a choice. He wasn’t guiltless, per say, but he need not carry the weight of it on his shoulders.

That fell to Cazador himself.

They began up the stairs. Sekh wasn’t exactly sure what they were looking for- but if this had been a haunt of Astarion’s, he felt they should give it a proper look through. They still knew nothing about the ritual aside from what its end goal was- and if they wanted to stop it, they needed details.

At the top of the stairs they heard voices, from an open room to the left. Sekh watched Astarion tense, then- as if in recognition. Before Sekh could ask, Astarion raised a hand, holding up a finger to silence him.

“Soon, sister. I just need one more mark.” A man’s voice. Astarion bristled at it- one he knew, Sekh was sure.

“We have enough for the master- no more are needed.”

“This will be for me, not the master. I’ve spent one hundred years feeding on dogs and rats. I want to be able to feast. And so, so soon.” His words dripped with hunger, one that Sekh recognized, from Astarion.

These had to be his kin.

“I want someone ready, waiting, so that when the Master grants my freedom, I can drink. Them. Dry.”

Astairon moved then, briskly barging into the room. Sekh had to hurry to keep up. “Cazador promised you your freedom?” He was nearly yelling the words, pausing only a step from the two. Sekh paused at his shoulder, taking them in- red eyes like Astarion, only glowing in a way that screamed magic. A noticeable tether to Cazador.

The two stared at Astarion, those red eyes going wide.

“And you bloody well believed him?” His expression changed to one of disgust, as he leveled his stare at the blond man. “You were never burdened with intelligence, Petras,” he spat his name like it was laced with poison, “but your load seems especially light, these days.”

The man was scowling at Astarion, the tips of his fangs visible. The woman had a much softer look directed at his vampling- but no less surprised. “Astarion?” She asked. Sekh liked her voice, even after only one word. “It cannot be…”

Astarion held his arms out, chin lifted- looking smug and regal. “That’s no way to welcome back a brother, Dal.” He paused, and then added, “Didn’t you miss me?”

It was meant to sound cocky, but something about it was sincere. Something about Astarion wanted her to miss him. Sekh had presumed things had never been great with Astarion and the other spawn, but if there was one, just one, who might have cared just a little- well, Sekh might consider setting aside his distaste for the divine to pray for that.

He wanted Astarion to have someone, in every aspect of his life. He wanted his world to be full of someones.

“We thought you were dead.” She spoke as if that would have been the favorable option, to being here. “If not, if you were free- why come back? You got out.” She lifted her hand, as if to reach for Astarion, but Petras reached over, pushed her hand away. Sekh felt his lip twitch over the action.

“Isn’t it obvious, sister? He wants to ascend with the rest of us. He heard of the Master’s plan and came back with his tail between his legs, hoping everything would be forgiven.” The sneer on the man’s- Petra’s- face was ugly. He turned his stare to Sekh, gave him a look that was not only undressing him, but pulling his skin from his bones. “He even brought a gift to get back in the Master’s good graces. You’re too late, brother, the Master has all he needs. But I,” Petras dared to take a step forward, eyes still honed in on Sekh, ignoring Astarion as if he was nothing, had never been and could never be a threat. “Don’t. I don’t think drow would have been my type, but I’m willing to lower my standards.”

Sekh fisted one hand, felt it crackling with a chill of necrotic magic. He was deeply considering knocking the man flat on his ass, but Astarion acted faster. He reached for Petras, wrapped his hand around the man’s throat, and hauled him across the room, into the light of the sun, streaming in through a window.

The moment the light touched Petras, his skin glistened, began to turn a molten silver, flaking away. He gave a shout, mouth turning into a pained grimace- while Astarion stood, utterly untouched.

“Keep your eyes and your pathetic fucking mouth away from him,” he hissed, bared his fangs fully. They looked so much longer than Petras’s. “He’s mine.” He squeezed, choking the unneeded breath from the other vampire. “Now, where is he hiding?” Petras reached up, clutched at Astarion’s wrist, but didn’t have the strength to even threaten his grip. It was iron, unmovable. “Tell me!”

The woman, Dal, moved halfway across the room, past Sekh. She paused just out of reach of the light. “Brother, please! Astarion!”

Astarion glanced at her, when she said his name. Yet he remained firm. Sekh folded his arms, offering up his best glare, directed at Petras.

“Talk or burn. Your choice.” The vampire glanced at him, and there was something so pleasing about seeing his initial confidence replaced by fear. It didn’t take much thought to see Astarion had never gotten on well with this one.

“You heard him. Tell me what I need to know. Now.”

“The Master is preparing his black mass beneath his palace.” Dal, speaking quickly, looking at Astarion with a fear that felt new. “The entrance to a chapel is hidden in the palace- he hid it from us all. We never knew.”

Astarion smirked, turned so his body shielded Petras from the sun, and shoved him. The man stumbled away, safely out of the sun’s reach, panting in pain. Astarion stood firm, letting the sunlight halo him.

“I’m going to stop Cazador.” The way he bared his fangs while saying Cazador’s name was as if he were ready to bury them into his throat.

“What the hells happened to you, Astarion?” Petras reached up, touched his burnt face. It was already beginning to slowly knit itself back together. “What are you?”

Spoken as if Astarion was a god, an abomination, something to be terrified of, in darkness and sunlight. Sekh bristled with pride.

“I’m more than what I was.And I’m not afraid of anything anymore.”

It was a lie. Sekh didn’t believe either of the other vampires caught it- but there was a tick to Astarion’s mouth, a glint in his eyes- he didn’t believe the last bit. At least, not yet.

“No one else can stop him. The sun can’t harm me- he cannot compel me.” He lifted his hand, letting the sun hit it directly, as if him standing, silhouetted by the sun wasn’t enough. He turned his head, beckoned towards Sekh with his fingers, and the drow walked over, took the hand in front of the others, kissed his knuckles while holding Petras’s stare. “And I’m not alone any longer.”

Petras stared, still in shock, jaw going slack- but Dal, she was studying them. Her alarm seemed to have ebbed, now that Petras wasn’t in direct peril. She was looking at Sekh, as if she was trying to read him, determine the thoughts bouncing around in his skull.

Determine if he was genuine.

Sekh lifted his chin- he didn’t need to prove himself to her, yet something in him reared to ugly life at his adoration for Astarion being challenged. “You should go,” he said, not looking at Petras- keeping Dal’s stare completely.

Astarion didn’t seem to notice. “You heard him- before I change my mind on roasting you, brother.” The last word was spat, foul tasting.

Dal tore her eyes away from Sekh, turned her stare back to Astarion. “This isn’t over, Astarion.” In a moment, they were gone in a flourish of red mist- leaving the room oddly silent.

Sekh turned to Astarion, who had a mingling of pity and disgust on his face. “They actually believe Cazador will save them,” he muttered, “poor fools. I’d expect this from Petras- but not Dal.” He turned his gaze back to Sekh, who wanted to ask about the both of them, wanted Astraion to tell him more about his kin-

But it wasn’t the time. “They’ll warn him we’re coming,” Sekh pointed out. While the information they had received was valuable, it also ruined the one advantage they had going for them. Surprise.

“And they’ll be trembling like terrified babes while they do.” Astarion waved the concern off. “They’re no threat to us- they don’t have a choice but to obey him. If anything I…I pity them.” For a moment, the disgust was gone, only the sadness remaining in Astarion’s voice. They faced the same forced fate he had for two centuries, after all.

But Sekh knew they could save them, if they only stopped the ritual.

“Worst of all, they don’t know their fates are already sealed. They’re doomed- it’s just a matter of if their deaths benefit a monster like Cazador, or,” he paused for a moment, a smile growing on his face-

Not a pretty one. It twisted his lips in a malicious way, the very air around Astarion seeming chilled.

“If they serve a greater purpose.” Sekh felt his blood running cold, a stabbing ache in his chest growing. Dread. “We find Cazador and take this power for ourselves. The rite can be mine.”

Sekh had hoped, considered praying, that perhaps Astarion’s initial mention of considering the rite for himself would have passed, faded into memory. He realized now he was so, so wrong.

“They’re your brothers, your sisters,” Sekh pointed out, “your family.”

“Not by choice!” Astarion snapped, reaching out, jabbing a finger into Sekh’s chest. “None of this is by choice! They’re the lot Cazador thrust on me.”

“They didn’t have a choice in the matter either,” Sekh pointed out, reaching up and gently pulling Astarion’s hand from him. “Astarion, are you ready to sacrifice them for this? To what end? What would you gain?”

“I’d rather slaughter someone else’s family, true- but they’re just as guilty as I ever was. Were any of them in my position, they would take the rite within a heartbeat.”

“But they’re not,” Sekh pointed out, “Astarion, only you can make this decision. But you have to know the consequences…”

“The consequences of unlimited power? Of never being afraid again?” The vampire laughed. It lacked the almost silly quality that Sekh loved so much. It rang hollow. The vampire reached for him, gripped his waist and pulled him in. For a moment, Sekh pulled back, just a fraction- Astarion didn’t even notice. “You’re not getting sentimental on me, are you? Your bleeding heart will be the death of us.”

His voice almost didn’t sound like himself. Sekh felt a cold sweat on his spine.

“I thought you were with me on this. I thought you wanted what was best for me?”

Sekh sucked at his own tongue. He did- he wanted Astarion to be safe, happy, loved. And none of that felt like it would stem from this ritual.

Nothing good ever stemmed from power like the divine. A man becoming a god would always undo him. And the last thing Sekh wanted to see was Astarion destroy himself, and the future he had.

“Can we just go?” Sekh asked, hoping that getting Astarion away from the ghost of his siblings might help dispel some of whatever had come over him. Hoping distance might bring back the man who had kissed him moments ago, had made him feel light. The man he loved.

Loved.

“Of course love,” Astarion said, relaxing a little. “It stinks of rat blood and dispair in here anyway.” He let go of Sekh’s waist, but Sekh took his hand again, gripping it perhaps too tightly.

Holding on, fearing if he let go, he’d lose the Astarion he had come to know.

The rest of the day was spent exploring the Flophouse- which proved fruitful, shockingly- and then arguing with the hollyphant over a possible target list they’d found. When she eventually caved and told them to seek out her comrade, it gave them exactly what they needed to get into the city properly.

A pass.

A pass that came with a face to face with Gortash, which ruined whatever fine mood Karlach had gotten from her time at Sharess’s Caress. Yet despite the ugliness, as evening was flooding the city with an orange glow from the setting sun, they finally set foot into Baldur’s Gate.

Sekh glanced around him, the streets bustling with so much life, despite the ever looming threat of the Absolute’s Army. Seemed no matter how close the end of days were, folks would always find time for their nightly activities.

He chose to stay in step behind Karlach and Wyll, who knew the city better than him. He’d expected Astarion to be leading them, but a few paces from the gate he noticed the vampire was nowhere in the group. He paused, glanced around, turned fully-

And found Astarion hadn’t moved from the entrance, was simply looking around, frozen in time.

Sekh left the group, hurrying back, reaching out to place a hand gently on his arm. “Are you alright?” Astarion glanced at him, his eyes looking almost dreamlike.

“After two centuries… you forget how much color there is.” His voice wavered, and Sekh hurt over it. Astarion hadn’t seen his city, his home, in true daylight for almost two hundred years.

Of course he was awestruck.

He was going to wait with him in silence as long as Astarion needed, but suddenly there were hands on his robes, Yenna leaning in, looking between the both of them. Her own eyes sparkled with wonder. “It’s so busy here- there are so many people!”

Astarion snapped from his trance, glanced down at her- and frowned. Without a word he brushed past both Sekh and the girl, hurrying to catch up with the group.

Sekh frowned himself. He didn’t understand why Astarion seemed to have a problem with the girl. He had been fine around Arabella, and the tiefling children at Last Light had grown quite fond of him. What was so different about Yenna?

“Did I upset him?” she asked, looking up at Sekh. Sekh shook his head, offered his hand to her. She gladly took it, and he walked them back towards the group.

“No. This is Astarion’s home, but he hasn’t really seen it in a long time.” He didn’t want to divulge too much- it wasn’t his palace to tell Astarion’s story.

Yenna only nodded, walking in perfect stride with Sekh. They had a destination- The Elfsong- to find the Flaming Fist Valeria had referred them too. Sekh was hoping they might be able to grab some real dinner, as well, before figuring out where they were going to rest their bones for the evening.

“Are you two married?”

The question came after long minutes of silence, as the two were still paces away from the rest of the group. Sekh paused, stared down at Yenna- who looked up at him as if the question made perfect sense.

“You and…” She paused, obviously trying to pull Astarion’s name from memory. “Astarion,” she finally said.

“Why would you think that?”

Sekh’s heart was hammering, and it wouldn’t quell it. A future that he hadn’t dared jump to seemed to be blossoming behind his eyes-

Astarion hadn’t even put a name to what they were now.

“You look at him like no one else is around.” Yenna shrugged a shoulder. “I never knew my dad, but my mom liked to point to couples when they looked like you and tell me they were married. That they didn’t see the rest of us, only each other.”

Sekh cleared his throat, shoving his wild torrent of thoughts aside. He couldn’t think about this now. “No,” he finally said, “we’re not married.”

“But you love him?” Sekh turned his gaze from Yenna, looked at his companions as they grew further and further away. Looked at Astarion, who had buried whatever annoyance he’d had at Yenna, was laughing at a very flustered Gale. The setting sun dazzled his curls in goldens and vermillions, and Sekh could just make out the lines around his eyes, from smiling.

His heart was racing, his body warm- pleasantly so, beneath his skin.

He squeezed Yenna’s hand, and knowing this had been the answer for much longer than he should ever admit, said softly, “Yes. I love him.”

The Elfsong, it turned out, happened to be the answer to all of their problems. Not only did they get support that they were chasing the Bhaalist cult in the right direction- but they got a roof over their heads, for as long as they needed. Sekh had smiled sweetly at the owner and the man had been more than happy to give them the whole upper floor for a price that was far too cheap.

And to find Lakrissa and Alfira again- it was warming, to know they were safe.

The upper floor was spacious, beds lining the parameter, privacy screens placed for some discretion. Sekh felt like he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d slept in a bed.

But the best part had to be the prospect of a bath.

With evening in full swing, it seemed pointless to try and venture further into the city. They needed to rest. The Dead Three could wait until morning. The majority of the party happily headed back down into the pub, eager for a drink and a hot meal.

“Are you coming?” Yenna asked Sekh, as the drow shed his shortsword- still fractured, the tip now a ragged edge. He hoped he might get it fixed- that a blacksmith in the city could smooth the edges for him again. Until then, he’d carry it as is.

His mother would have done the same.

“In a bit,” Sekh said, “I need a bath.” He reached out, tussled the girl’s hair. “You probably do too.”

Yenna pouted, and it made Sekh laugh so hard his belly hurt. “I’ve just been in Wyrm’s Crossing. I think you stink more than I do.” She folded her arms, and Sekh had to urge to grab her and toss her around- throw her on the bed and smack her with a pillow.

He’d never had siblings- he had to wonder if it felt like this.

“I smell lovely,” Sekh said, leaning forward, voice dripping with a sass that had Yenna rolling her eyes. As he did so, Astarion walked over, dropping some of his armor that he had just pulled off on the floor, at the foot of a bed in the corner.

Where Sekh had dropped his shortsword.

“Lovely is a … choice word,” Astarion said in passing, and Yenna cackled. Sekh spun on his heel, staring at Astarion, who glanced over- gave him a teasing smirk.

“You ass,” Sekh said, reaching for him and pulling him closer. “I smell fine.” Astarion squirmed in his hold, but didn’t try to actually escape it. Sekh placed a kiss to his cheek, caught out of the corner of his eye Yenna beaming at them.

Astarion huffed, finally pushing Sekh off. “Perhaps I like how you smell anyway,” he muttered, before he caught sight of Yenna smiling at them. For a moment there was this looking of longing, of wonder in his eyes- like there had been, when they’d first stepped into the city.

And then it was gone, smothered quickly as he turned away, frowning so hard his brows creased. Sekh turned away, focusing back on Yenna as Karlach walked over, wanting to take the girl for herself so they could go have a right, proper dinner.

Sekh was glad for Karlach taking the girl- he wanted to make sure she ate, but he needed a moment to focus on Astarion. The man had shed his armor, had made it abundantly clear that he was claiming the bath first.

Everyone else was more interested in dinner and hadn’t argued.

Sekh took the last few steps to him, placed a hand gently on his lower back. Astarion didn’t even glance back at him- knew who was touching him without a look. Of course he did.

“Can I ask you something?” Sekh asked, quietly, and Astarion huffed.

“You just did.”

Sekh rolled his eyes, slid his arms around Astarion’s waist. The vampire covered his hands with one of his own, as they rested on his belly, Sekh placing his chin on his shoulder. “Funny. Why don’t you like Yenna?”

Astarion went tense in his hold, before he scoffed at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t like her. It’s pretty apparent. You’re not a subtle man, Astarion.” Sekh gave him a gentle squeeze. “Do you just not like kids? I didn’t get that, from how you acted with Arabella and the tiefling kids.”

Astarion didn’t speak, for a long moment. Sekh began to wonder if the man was just going to ignore the question- but then, in barely a whisper, Astarion said, “No.” He pulled from Sekh’s hold, turned to face him-

And Sekh’s heart cracked. Astarion’s eyes looked lost. A sadness had fallen over his face that Sekh hadn’t seen in quite some time. Gods, he hadn’t meant to upset him.

“Children don’t belong around vampires,” he finally said, his voice seeming a bit strained, caught in his throat. “Nothing good will come of it.” Astarion glanced away then, his fingers fidgeting at his sides- as if he wanted to reach out to Sekh, but wouldn’t allow himself. “She’s best off far away from me.”

Sekh reached out then, took one of Astarion’s hands. It felt like his fingers were trembling, as Sekh squeezed them. “Astarion,” he said, and then, softer, “Starshine. You’re not going to hurt her.”

“I may not, but something will because of what I am. Trust me, children do not belong around us. We aren’t allowed the luxury of family.” The words were heated- a deep seated despair that hadn’t been breathed to life ever, if Sekh were to judge. The words were barely out of his mouth before Astarion was pinching his lips shut, pulling his hand from Sekh’s hold. He moved to turn, but Sekh reached for him, slipped his arms around his waist, pulled him into a tight hold, hands splayed on his back, pressed along the ridges of his scars that he could just feel through his shirt.

Astarion didn’t try to pull away this time. He melted against Sekh, pressed his face into the crook of his neck. “You’re allowed everything,” Sekh said, softly, “Astarion, I promise you- whatever you want, it's yours. Whatever that monster did to you, whatever he made you think you can’t have- he’s wrong.” Sekh squeezed him, wanted to gather the man up, cage him in his ribs and keep him safe, sheltered.

Astarion nuzzled against his neck, breathed him in. “You can’t promise that,” he whispered. “But I can, if-”

Sekh cut him off. He didn’t want to hear it- didn’t want Astarion’s mind going down that dark path now. “I can promise it. And I do.” He pulled one hand from Astarion’s back, forced him to lift his head, cradled his cheek against his palm, kept Astarion’s head steady so he was forced to gaze at Sekh. “I told you I’d take care of you. And I will. I meant that, I mean it to my damn dying breath, Astarion. You are everything.” The vampire turned his head just slightly, managed to press his mouth at the base of Sekh’s palm, kissed his warm skin.

The softness, the affection made Sekh’s chest ache. His fingers pressed harder to Astarion’s back.

“Astarion,” he breathed, “I…” The words caught in Sekh’s throat, then. Thick and cloying and true, but a part of him feared it was too much for this man. That he was running where Astarion was content to walk.

He settled on silence, which Astarion took as an invitation to lean in, press a kiss to his lips. Sekh kissed him back, slowly, hand finding his way into his hair. The vampire hummed, opened his mouth for the kiss- seemed content to let the conversation die in favor of this.

Sekh was happy to indulge, but swore to himself he would revisit this.

“Gods, can you two wait until we’re all gone at least?” Astarion paused his mouth’s movements, as Sekh glanced to the side- and Shadowheart was watching, a hand on her hip, the other pinching the bridge of her nose as if they were giving her a headache.

Sekh pulled back, just offered her a sheepish smile, and Astarion moved out of his embrace. The vampire gave Shadowheart a teasing smile, before he headed across the large, open room- heading for the bath, situated behind a few privacy screens. Shadowheart rolled her eyes, turning back to Sekh.

“Please tell me you both aren’t getting in together.”

Sekh choked. “There isn’t room,” he said, knowing Shadowheart knew that. “I just… thought maybe he might want some help with his hair…” He reached up, rubbed the back of his neck, and Shadowheart laughed at him. Sekh decided this was definitely what it was like to have siblings.

“You two would find a way. Don’t take too long, you need to eat.” Sekh only nodded, and Shadowheart left him, heading out herself. He shrugged out of his robes, leaving them tossed on the foot of his bed-

Astarion’s bed? Their bed? Astarion hadn’t said a word about it, he’d just dropped his own items on the same bed as Sekh and carried on.

Sekh found he was smiling, as he walked across the room, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. He stepped around the privacy screen, found Astarion with his arms out along the wooden bath, head tipped back, looking utterly blissed out. He could see the steam from the water.

“Enjoying yourself?” Sekh asked, and Astarion didn’t even open his eyes, simply hummed an affirmation. Sekh got down on his knees, ran his hands along Astarion’s outstretched arms. “Need a hand?”

This time the vampire cracked his eyes open, glanced at Sekh. Those eyes teased, and Sekh laughed himself.

“I meant that as innocently as possible,” he admitted, and Astarion lifted his head properly, arms sliding from the bath into the hot water.

“How dull.” Still, Astarion smiled. “But if you want to be helpful, I wouldn’t say no.”

Sekh took the invitation, reaching for one of the bottled soaps, as Astarion dipped himself awkwardly under the water. He came back with his curls drenched, as Sekh lathered the soap onto his hands. Once the vampire was settled again, Sekh worked the suds into his curls, fingers scratching softly against Astarion’s scalp. The man sighed, eyelids fluttering shut, as Sekh seemed to work each individual curl as if they were made of glass.

When Sekh finally pulled his hands free, Astarion dipped under the water again, working his own hands through his curls to free them of the suds. Sekh took advantage to grab one of the tiny hunks of solid soap, and the moment Astarion was back out of the water, curls wet and flung into his face, Sekh was guiding him back, dragging the soap down along his chest.

Astarion arched slightly, head tipping back, resting against Sekh’s shoulder, hair soaking through the fabric instantly. Sekh didn’t care. He got his other arm around Astarion, pressed his hand flat to his chest as he worked the soap down along his abdomen, then back up, slowly covering each inch of him.

When Astarion tried to reach up, brush his hair from his face, the hand on his chest batted him away. Sekh pushed his wet hair back instead, watched Astarion’s eyes open, looking a bit hazy. The vampire bit his lip, one fang poking out between them, and Sekh wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh, kiss him sweetly-

Or ravish him until dawn.

He slid his now slick fingers and the soap back down along Astarion’s belly, past his navel, curving towards his hip. Astarion lifted his hips slightly, made a frustrated little noise. “Tease,” he breathed, and Sekh kissed his wet temple.

“I said I was going to help,” he said, “I never said I was going to do anything sordid, sweetheart.” Still he moved dangerously close to the base of Astarion’s cock, felt the man’s body shifting, trying to get to him.

He couldn’t help teasing just a bit.

His next movement dragged the soap to Astarion’s thigh, and then he was leaning over the tub, working it along his bent legs. Another huff from his vampire, but this time Astarion sat still.

Once Sekh had gotten both of his legs he straightened up on his knees, gently pushing at Astarion’s shoulder. “Let me get your back.”

For a moment, Sekh wondered if Astarion might refuse him. The vampire hadn’t shied away from his touch on his scars lately- but Sekh also understood that a layer of clothing could create enough of a barrier to allow for the touch.

But Astarion leaned forward without a word, Let Sekh cup the warm water in one hand and spill it over his back. He shivered, once, at the first touch of the soap against his scars- but it almost didn’t seem bad. After a moment, when he hadn’t pulled away, Sekh asked, “Okay?”

Astarion nodded, and when he spoke, his voice caught in his throat. “Okay.”

Sekh smiled, leaned in and kissed the back of his wet curls, soaping up his scarred skin until the soap had dissolved into nothing in his hands. Once it had, he cupped both his hands together, rinsing the suds away, noting that the water was beginning to cool.

He leaned back, was about to stand up, assuming Astarion wouldn’t want to remain if the water wasn’t scorching. But before he could Astarion had his back pressed to the lip of the wooden tub, was reaching up and back, grasping at Sekh’s shirt, pulling him forward.

The drow was forced to bow over him, as Astarion’s other hand tangled up in his hair, held him still as he pressed a feverish kiss to his lips. Sekh groaned, too shocked to move for the first few moments. It was only when Astarion’s tongue flicked the seam of his lips that he seemed to respond, opening so willingly for him, as water splashed up onto his shirt.

Sekh gasped around the kiss, Astarion’s tongue teasing the points of his teeth, pushing at the plush of his cheeks. He trembled, and Astarion pulled at his hair harder, broke the kiss to let Sekh pant against his wet lips. “I’m going to devour you,” he said, voice low, pulled from his chest.

Sekh bit his own lip, couldn’t even think to answer. His silence seemed to be all Astarion needed- because the man gave him a smirk, before he pushed him back.

Sekh stood, carefully- legs feeling numb from being on his knees, and before he could even turn to give Astarion privacy, the vampire stood up. He didn’t turn to face Sekh, but reached both hands into his own curls, squeezing the water back so it riveted down his back, between his scars.

The drow swallowed thickly, felt the juncture of his thighs throbbing. Astarion glanced back at him, over his shoulder. “You’re staring, darling.”

Sekh felt like he had forgotten every word he ever knew. And that seemed to be the response Astarion wanted from him. The vampire turned then, reached a hand out, beckoned him closer. Sekh took the two steps to the tub, and Astarion grasped his shoulder with one wet hand, used him for balance as he climbed out, before leaning back in, brushing his chest along Sekh’s.

“I’m going to get dressed,” he said, voice soft yet commanding. “I’m going to find something to drain dry- and when I come back, I’m going to pull you apart until you forget everything but. My. Name.” Astarion leaned in, breathed into Sekh’s ear, “You’re mine- and it’s been far too long since I proved that.”

Sekh shivered then, heart hammering so hard his chest ached. He swore he was seeing stars already, little tendrils of heat snaking from his cunt up his belly, taking hold and twisting.

Astarion stepped away, took one last long glance at his drow- and then crossed the room, completely naked, leaving Sekh in a soaked shirt wondering how he’d survive until the man returned.

Bathed, dressed in dry clothes, Sekh made his way downstairs, found the entire party scattered about- looking happy. There was only one absence- Astarion- but Sekh was almost glad for it. If his lover was gone, that meant he was already hunting- and the sooner he had left for his hunt, the sooner he’d be back.

Sekh made his way to a table most of the party had sequestered, was nearly pulled down onto a bench by Karlach. “Wondered if you were ever going to join us,” she teased, pushing a plate of food towards him. “We ordered enough for everyone. Don’t worry- no fish for you.”

Sekh grinned at that. “You’re a blessing,” he said. He knew he was hungry, but it was hard to focus on that need, when another was raging within him. Still- he rationalized he might need some energy tonight.

He must have blushed, because as he was biting into what might have been the best roll of his life, Karlach grinned and simply said, “So, are we all invited to the show, or are we locked out until you two are done?”

Sekh choked, and she laughed so loudly it could have shaken the very building, smacking his back once.

“Teasing!” she said, “relax- I think we all know you two need some quality time together. Fancy boy barely said a word when he came down, I thought he was going to run right through a wall to get outside if it would be the fastest route.” She tossed her arm around Sekh’s shoulder, giving him a one armed hug. “And don’t worry about your little counterpart. Auntie Karlach will keep an eye on her.”

Sekh breathed out a relieved sigh at that. Truth be told, he had been a little worried about Yenna. He was the one who had decided she could stay with them- she was his responsibility, in his eyes. Knowing Karlach would keep an eye on her so he could focus solely on Astarion was a godsend.

“I owe you my life,” he said, pushing the rest of the roll into his mouth. Across the table, Shadowheart caught his eye as she was speaking with Lae’zel- and without breaking conversation, poured him a cup of wine and pushed it across the table.

Karlach waved him off, as Sekh picked up his cup and took a drink. The wine was a mild white, not exactly to his taste, but also not strong enough to make him regret it. He just wanted a bit of courage.

He felt foolish, the excitement building in him like this would be his first night with Astarion. Like he was back at their old campsite, drunk tieflings about, counting down the seconds to when he could sneak off for their first tryst.

He had to smile to himself, thinking about where they were now, and how it felt like they had progressed lifetimes.

He was standing with Karlach and Wyll, when Astarion returned. He wasn’t facing the doorway, was across the pub, near the stairs- yet something warmed in him. He glanced at his hand, holding his wine cup- at his ring, and realized it was mildly warm, buzzing softly. He turned, thinking it had to mean something regarding Astarion-

And the vampire was already quickly crossing the room, heading directly for him- eyes boring a scarlet fire directly into his soul. His curls were wild and soft- having dried in the night air and not been styled. His cheeks had a hint of color- be it from feeding or a chill in the night wind, Sekh didn’t know.

All he knew was that his heart stopped, and then crashed back to life the moment Astarion reached him, cupped the back of his neck with one hand, and pulled him in for an unceremonious but so needed kiss.

Sekh fell into it, kissed Astarion back, matching the fervor the man was pouring into him. His free hand clutched at Astarion’s shirt, his knees feeling weak. Gods, he was so undone.

When Astarion broke the kiss, Sekh tried to chase him- but the vampire pulled back just too far. He took the cup from Sekh’s hand, blindly handing it to Karlach- who seemed too struck by the show to even offer her typical commentary. Then, grabbing Sekh by the wrist, he pulled him towards the stairs, nearly running up them.

As they were disappearing, Sekh heard Karlach announcing to Yenna that they were going for a little adventure. The last thing he heard of the world below was the girl’s ecstatic response-

And then the world was gone, as Astarion pulled him along the upper floor, throwing open the door to their sleeping quarters. It had barely closed when Sekh had his back pressed to it, his vampire boxing him in, greedily taking another kiss.

Sekh melted into it, hands finding Astarion’s waist, squeezing. He could still taste the ghost of blood in his mouth, as Astarion pushed his tongue past Sekh’s lips, kissed him so hard that Sekh swore his lips would bruise.

He rolled his hips forward, into Astarion, as the vampire splayed a hand on the door, the other finding Sekh’s neck, wrapping along it, thumb stroking his throat. The drow shivered, could feel the scrape of Astarion’s nail on his skin, before the hand was gone, and Astarion was suddenly hoisting him up. Sekh gasped, clutched at his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist.

Astarion purred. “I like you like this,” he whispered, and Sekh squeezed his shoulder tighter. He was panting lightly from sheer need already- felt ridiculous over it, and yet couldn’t find the will to try and control or contain himself.

Astarion deserved to know how desperately he wanted him.

The vampire turned, actually began carrying him across the room. Sekh bowed over him, kissed his jawline. “You’re not this strong,” he teased, only to have the hands on his hips squeeze, nails digging into the fabric of his pants.

“Darling, I am divine.” Sekh nipped at his earlobe, got a little rumbled growl from Astarion’s chest. “With you, I can do anything.”

He reached their bed- it had to be theirs, didn’t it?- and tossed Sekh down onto it. Sekh fell without a care, arching on impact, as Astarion crawled over him, slotted between his legs and found his mouth for another kiss.

In the back of Sekh’s mind, the drow knew that if Astarion was this alive, this virile, his dinner hadn’t been animal blood. And yet, he didn’t care. He trusted Astarion enough to believe he wouldn’t have just slit open the first person he met’s throat.

If someone died, they deserved it. He just wished he had seen it.

He would never deny what seeing Astarion take what he needed did to him.

He rolled his hips up, could feel Astarion’s cock, straining within his pants. “I can feel you,” he managed, between kisses. Astarion grunted, ground against Sekh’s pelvis and nipped at his lip. Sekh reached for Astarion’s waist, began pulling at his shirt.

Astarion pushed away from him, got up on his knees and nearly tore his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Sekh sat up then, still pinned beneath Astarion’s legs, hands working almost clumsily at his pants as he pressed his face into his neck, kissed at his pulse.

The vampire tipped his head back, sighing when Sekh finally got his pants unlaced, was able to free his cock. He was so hard already, skin hot in Sekh’s hands as he wrapped it around his shaft, stroked slowly. He dragged his teeth along Astarion’s throat, wanted to bite himself- wondered what sort of noises Astarion might make, if he could break his skin.

Astarion rocked his hips to meet each stroke, breathing coming quicker- before he was reaching for Sekh’s hand, desperately pushing it away. “Darling,” he managed, breathless, and Sekh grinned.

“Don’t want to come yet?” he asked, watched Astarion bite his lip. The vampire took a single breath, as if composing himself, before he climbed off of Sekh, stood up to properly shed his clothing.

“Not without you,” he finally said, and Sekh’s breath caught. “Now, you have ten seconds to remove your clothes, or I shred them myself, pet.”

Sekh thrashed, shoving his clothing down his legs, up over his shoulders. It took more than ten seconds, but Astarion managed to restrain himself.

Just barely.

Sekh was still tugging off his shirt, his last piece of clothing, getting it tangled around his arms over his head, when Astarion’s patience wore out. He climbed onto the bed, grasped the drow’s thighs and shoved them roughly open, groaning because Sekh was soaked- had been since before Astarion even left.

Sekh arched, arms still stuck over his head, and Astarion gave a wicked smile. “I could leave you like that,” he teased, as he stretched out between his legs, hips grinding into the bed the moment he was settled. “In fact,” he purred, his breath warm against Sekh’s cunt, making the drow tremble, “I think I will.”

He dragged his tongue up along Sekh’s slit, from entrance to clit- and the drow gave a cry, eyes squeezing shut. Gods it felt like lifetimes since he’d felt Astarion’s tongue.

The vampire groaned, a mumbled fuck, his fingers pressing with bruising force into Sekh’s thighs. Sekh managed to untangle himself from his shirt, letting it drop off the bed, as Astarion eagerly went back for another taste, lapping at his lips, just teasing his clit enough to keep Sekh squirming.

“Tease,” the drow breathed, hands grasping at the blanket beneath him. It was nice, to be in a bed for once- to not have the hard earth pressing into his bones.

Astarion growled, but otherwise didn’t respond, hips continuing to rock into the bed as his tongue worked Sekh’s cunt. He finally gave the drow the touch he wanted- tongue rolling over his clit, again and again and again, until Sekh was seeing stars, behind his eyelids, gasping for breath.

He hadn’t had release, even by his own hand, since the last time he’d bedded Astarion. The weeks of celibacy had left him desperate, sensitive- and he could feel his orgasm already building, in his belly.

He reached down with one hand, tangled his fingers into Astarion’s wild, soft curls- and pushed. Astarion made a surprised little noise, and Sekh felt him tremble as he was forced closer to his cunt, held there so Sekh could grind against his tongue.

From the eager way the vampire’s tongue danced along the sensitive bud, he was loving it.

“Astarion,” Sekh breathed, “I’m so close.” It made his belly ache, to be right there, dancing along the edge of bliss and yet not tripping over the edge. Astarion made another needy noise, and Sekh could feel the bed shift as he desperately rutted against it, needing friction just as badly as the drow.

Sekh dug his shoulder blades into the bed, one hand twisting the blanket, the other Astarion’s hair, as he found his first release in what felt like centuries. Euphoria washed over him as he cried out Astarion’s name, thighs trembling with the force of his orgasm, body seizing up, wishing desperately to have something inside him, to clench around.

Astarion’s efforts didn’t diminish, his tongue eager, working along Sekh’s clit until it was so sensitive Sekh was squirming, pushing his head away instead of towards him. Astarion fought it for a moment, before he obeyed, moving his tongue instead to Sekh’s entrance. The hands on his thighs moved, spread him open so Astarion would push his tongue just inside him, get a true taste.

Sekh arched again, eyes nearly rolling, behind his eyelids. Astarion’s growl reverberated into his body, echoed in Sekh’s very bones. When he slit his eyes open, it was to the vampire lifting his head, looking at him with pupils so blown his eyes seemed black, lips and chin glistening.

Sekh opened his mouth, to say his name, anything, but Astarion was crawling over him, pinning him down, kissing him fervently. Sekh got his arms around him, dug his fingers into his shoulders, bucked his hips up, felt Astarion’s cock rubbing against his pelvis, smearing precum onto his skin. Sekh shifted his hips slightly, trying to get himself at an angle where Astarion could slide inside him, but the vampire pulled his hips back, exhaling a shaking breath against Sekh’s lips.

“Darling, wait.” Sekh paused, thinking for a moment that perhaps Astarion didn’t want to go farther- and despite the lust clouding his mind, leaving his head foggy, he would never be so beyond himself to not stop.

“Are you okay?” Sekh moved one hand from Astarion’s shoulder to his face, cradled his cheek. The vampire was panting.

“Yes. No.” Astarion swallowed thickly, and Sekh could see the delicious points of his fangs, each time he spoke. As if they would respond to his arousal. “I…” he paused, cleared his throat, and in a softer voice that was embarrassed, admitted, “I won’t last inside you.”

Oh. Sekh relaxed, smiling up at Astarion. “Is that it?” He chuckled, and color flooded Astarion’s face. “Starshine I don’t care.”

“You should,” Astarion retorted, but Sekh shook his head. He let his hand leave Astarion’s cheek, slid it between them, fingers just brushing his cock.

“No, because this isn’t a performance. If you feel that good already- well,” Another ghost of his fingers, and Astarion trembled, “I’m flattered. Besides,” he leaned up, as he wrapped his hand around Astarion, breathed into his ear, “we have all night.”

He gave him a single stroke, and Astarion dropped his head down, rested it on Sekh’s shoulder, hips moving to desperately fuck his hand. His cock was slick with precum, droplets falling onto Sekh’s belly. Sekh smiled, rubbed his hand along Astarion’s upper back, over scars that felt warm, to his touch.

“Do you want to come?” he asked softly, and Astarion gave a desperate nod. Sekh gave his cock another squeeze, before he stroked faster, let Astarion’s hips set the rhythm. Each breath into his neck was coupled with a whine, a groan, until Astarion was sighing in pure relief, body trembling from his very core as his first orgasm took him.

Sekh felt his cum, splashing his belly, down onto his cunt. It was filthy and had him nearly squirming as he continued to stroke, until Astarion was arching his hips away.

The vampire pushed himself up, back up onto his knees between Sekh’s legs, to get a look at him. Unable to help himself, Sekh reached down, fingers moving through Astarion’s cum on his belly, until he was pushing it between his legs- rubbing along his clit once, before his own fingers delved down into his cunt.

Astarion bit his lip again, and Sekh swore the vampire was going to break his own skin. Sekh let out a shaky breath, fucking himself slowly, Astarion’s eyes locked on his fingers movements. When he went to ease his fingers out, Astarion reached for his wrist, squeezed it, pushed his fingers further into him. “Don’t,” he whispered, voice thick, “stop.”

Sekh sucked at his tongue, dug one heel into the bed and lifted his hips slightly, getting his fingers deeper. He thrust them quickly, as Astarion released his wrist, laid a hand flat and low on his belly, so he could rub his thumb over Sekh’s clit.

His other hand moved back to Sekh’s thigh, pushed so his legs were open further. “I could watch you forever,” Astarion admitted. Sekh tipped his head back, squeezed his eyes shut, felt his second orgasm of the night beginning to build, in his belly- stemming perfectly in time with Astarion’s slow rubbing of his clit. His cunt squeezed at his fingers, and he pushed them deeper, mouth falling open as he began to pant, feeling dizzy. Yet Astarion didn’t move any faster- kept a rhythm that was far too calm.

Sekh tried to roll his hips, but Astarion pressed with the hand flat to his belly.

“Don’t be impatient,” he warned, and Sekh could scream that Aastarion was the epitome of impatience- yet he listened, forced himself to still his hips. “Good,” Astarion whispered, his other thumb rubbing soothing circles into Sekh’s thigh. “Do you wish it was me inside you?”

Fuck. “Yes, gods yes.” Sekh whimpered, felt a wave trying to catch hold in his belly- his orgasm receding a moment later, leaving him wanting terribly.

“Why?”

Sekh bit his lip, dug his teeth in so tightly he almost broke skin. Astarion was going to drive him mad. “Because,” Sekh breathed, curling his own fingers, sliding along his sweet spot and making him see stars. “Nothing- nothing feels as good as you.” He craned his neck slightly, to look down his body, could still see smears of Astarion’s cum on his dusky skin.

Astarion hummed, approving. “Do you come better around me?”

Fucking hells- “Yes, yes.” Sekh’s thighs trembling, his orgasm trying to build again. He rubbed his fingertips desperately at that spot inside him, but it just wasn’t enough with how slow Astarion’s thumb was moving- and in a moment the orgasm was fading back into his belly.

The damn vampire knew, from the smirk on his face. Sekh wanted to scream.

Astarion leaned over him then, caught his stare, held it. “Sekh, darling,” he breathed, “can you be a good boy and come now?”

Sekh arched, and Astarion moved just a tick faster. But gods, it was enough. This time when his orgasm welled inside him, it crested, sent his belly and cunt into the sweetest, tightest knots- and then burst. Sekh arched so far his back should ache, shoulders digging into the bed, crying out Astarion’s name, little pleas of yes and more, as he fucked himself through the orgasm, Astarion encouraging him on.

When he finally went lax, his fingers easing from his body, the vampire was grabbing him by his wrist, pulling his hand up, sliding those two fingers into his mouth, along his tongue. He sucked at them gently, tongue rolling around him, getting a taste of Sekh’s wetness, his own cum that the drow had fucked into himself.

When Astarion finally guided his fingers from his mouth, Sekh grabbed him, pulled him down and rolled them over, so he was sprawled on top of the man. Astarion let him, seemed relaxed as Sekh kissed him eagerly, rocking against his body. He wasn’t fully hard again yet- but his cock was still pressing tight to Sekh, weeping precum already.

Sekh broke the kiss, had Astarion chasing his mouth, wanting more. Instead he kissed the hollow of his throat, then the dip of his clavicle. Slowly, Sekh eased down his chest in a line, only glancing up when he reached Astarion’s navel.

The vampire was watching him with rapt attention.

Sekh smiled softly to himself, continued his way down, until he could press a kiss just under Astarion’s cockhead. The vampire groaned, as Sekh took him in hand, easing his mouth down along him, able to take him until his lips pressed to Astarion’s pelvis-

For now.

“Gods,” Astarion breathed, as Sekh suckled gently, his tongue rolling along Astarion’s cock. He could feel each throb of desire, as the vampire hardened slowly, against his tongue. Carefully, Sekh eased back, pulled off and stared up at Astarion as he stroked up along his length.

“There are no gods here.” Sekh’s voice was a rumble from his chest. “Only me.” Astarion whined, and Sekh took him back in his mouth, easing down along his length as far as he could- which was quickly becoming less and less.

Astarion tangled a hand in his free hair, rubbed it between his fingers as Sekh reveled in the salty taste of his skin. He pressed his thighs together, his cunt aching again, body insatiable.

He was still squirming, when Astarion tugged at his hair, guided him off his cock. It left Sekh’s mouth with a wet pop, bobbed against his lips. He stuck his tongue out, unable to keep himself from teasing, as Astarion still watched.

But the vampire’s eyes told him everything- this wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t what he’d ached for, all day.

Sekh pushed himself up onto his hands, let Astarion pull him up the bed, stretch out on his side. The vampire kissed him, drank down the saltiness on his tongue, as he carefully rolled him onto his back. Sekh moved like liquid, thighs spreading without Astarion’s guidance, as his lover slipped between them, still kissing him hungrily.

Sekh hooked a leg up on Astarion’s hip, bared himself, as the vampire took himself in hand, rubbing his cock along his cunt. Sekh trembled, as Astarion breathed against his lips, before the vampire’s tongue was pushing back into his mouth, at the same time as he eased into his body.

Sekh groaned, his hands reaching up, grasping at Astarion’s back, as the vampire’s hand planted on the bed, supported himself as he rocked into his body. Sekh broke the kiss to gasp a breath, and Astarion dropped his head, panted against Sekh’s hair. The drow could feel the muscles in his back and shoulders- tense- as Astarion tried to contain his thrusts.

“Don’t,” Sekh whispered, as Astarion lifted his head. “Don’t hold back.” Astarion made a small, needy noise, and Sekh smiled, curled his leg tighter around Astarion’s hips and ass, pulling him in quickly, so deep that Sekh nearly forgot his own thoughts.

Astarion groaned, before he went back for the drow’s mouth, kissing him rhythmlessly, hungry. His hips moved faster, fucked into Sekh so hard that the drow didn’t think he could breathe. He clung to Astarion desperately, body coiling tight, screaming because this is what he had wanted, for so long.

Astarion nipped at his lip, pressed the tip of a single fang just hard enough to break skin. He gathered the drop of blood on his tongue, and the following thrust had Sekh breaking the kiss, screaming. Gods, he was going to bruise inside- and he wanted nothing more.

“They’re going-to-hear us,” Sekh panted, words broken by thrusts. Astarion bared his fangs, looked feral, ethereal, divine and hellish.

“Let them.” He pushed up, grasped a hand at Sekh’s hip, the other at the thigh not clutching tightly to his body. He pushed Sekh’s leg until his hip ached, yet the drow didn’t stop him, eyes rolling at the way it let Astarion get even deeper inside him. “Let them hear you break, darling.”

Sekh arched, a hand scrambling down his belly, between his folds. He rubbed at his clit, the bud hard and aching. His cunt was screaming, nerves alight and burning so hot he swore he would combust. Astarion didn’t seem to be in a better state- his breaths rushed, sweat along his hairline, a bead running down his throat.

Gods Sekh wanted to lick it away.

“Only,” Sekh managed, felt his cunt clenching around Astarion. “Oh fuck.” He rolled his hips, for a moment forgetting what he had even been trying to say. Astarion didn’t seem to mind, nails digging little crescent moons into his thigh.

Sekh swore his nails were sharper, lately. Talon like. And yet somehow, he didn’t think they even could hurt him, were they inside him. As if Astarion didn’t possess the power to make his body cause Sekh harm.

“Only if you break with me,” he finally managed, watched Astarion baring his throat. Sekh still wanted to dig his teeth into that pale skin, feel it break, get a taste of the vampire for a change.

Astarion’s mouth fell open, an attempt at Sekh’s name. Sekh felt his muscles coiling, along his back, his belly, his very core. His fingers moved desperately, and he knew Astarion could feel how close he was, how desperately his body wanted to break.

He pushed harder, so deep into Sekh it should have hurt- but everything felt good, in that moment. Sekh cried out his name, a panted mantra of Astarion, Astarion, Astarion, as his orgasm took hold and quaked through him. The world faded to black, the only light the white hot starbursts, behind his eyelids. Sekh was smiling, head tipped back, still coming when Astarion followed, his own shout of Sekh’s name.

Sekh felt each wave of Astarion’s orgasm, inside him. Behind his eyelids, his eyes rolled, realizing he was so full, and gods, wanting still more. He wanted Astarion to fill him to the point that he couldn’t contain all of his seed, that it was spilling down his thighs.

Astarion’s hips finally stilled, as he leaned over Sekh, sought out his kiss swollen lips. Sekh sighed into it, pulled Astarion until the vampire was lying along him, a pleasant weight as they both slowly came down from their high. The drow’s hands roamed along his back, fingers idly tracing his scars without even meaning to.

Astarion sighed into the kiss, broke away just to press his forehead against Sekh’s. And, in a voice that was hoarse yet soft, whispered, “I missed this.”

Sekh smiled. “The bed or the sex?” he teased, and Astarion huffed, finally rolling off of him. He stretched out next to him, staring up at the dark ceiling.

His only answer was, “You.”

Sekh felt his heart flutter, the wicked thing taking flight in his chest. He rolled onto his side, slotted in against Astarion’s, tracing a hand down his chest as he propped his cheek against his other hand. “Astarion,” he started, “what are we?”

The vampire glanced at him, before turning his eyes back to the dark above. He was quiet, for a moment, before admitting, “I don’t know.” He licked his lips, rolled the next words over before continuing. “You’re not a target. You’re not a night it’s best to forget. But then, what are you? What does that leave?” Astarion reached for the hand that was stroking slowly along his chest, grasped it, tangling his fingers with Sekh’s. “I don’t know how to be a part of anything else.” He turned his head to face Sekh, his eyes open, vulnerable. “But you said you care… and I trust you. I feel safe with you.”

Sekh leaned down, pecked Astarion’s lips very softly. “I do care,” he whispered, “more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I’ll always keep you safe, Starshine.” Another soft kiss, but when Sekh tried to pull away, Astarion chased him, dragged the kiss out until he was pulling Sekh back down properly to the bed, so he could sprawl against the drow’s side, rest his head on his chest.

Sekh wrapped his arm around him, rubbing along his spine. Astarion’s cheek was cool against his warm skin, a comfort. For a long moment, they lapsed into silence, and Sekh was content with it, happy to hold the man against him. He could have laid in silence forever.

But Astarion broke it. “I’m terrified,” he admitted, not lifting his head. Sekh’s hand stilled. “Terrified because you should be taken from me. What you do to me…” He took a slow breath. “Anyone else who made my dead heart sing died for it.”

Sekh resumed his slow strokes of Astarion’s spine. He didn’t need to ask who would never let Astarion have anything. It was all too obvious.

“Once,” Astarion said, his voice trembling, “in the early years of my… slavery. I met a boy. A darling boy.” His voice caught, and he had to pause, take a slow breath. “And I couldn’t bear the thought of bringing him back to Cazador- couldn’t live with myself knowing I was going to bring him to his death. So I… I ran.”

His arm slid over Sekh’s waist, held onto him. Whether for comfort or as if to protect Sekh from the phantom of his master, the drow wasn’t sure.

“Cazador found me. Of course he did. And he locked me in a tomb for an entire year, starving.” A tremble wracked Astarion’s body, as he tried to grip Sekh even tighter. “There were months of trying to claw my way out, feeling my nails break off my fingers just to sprout back. Months of screaming my throat raw- months of nothing at all. Of silence and blackness. And months of just wishing for death. And then…” Astarion squeezed his eyes shut. “Even moments of begging for forgiveness. Thinking that if Cazador would just let me out, I’d make things right.”

Astarion pushed himself up then, looked down at Sekh. The drow could see a shimmer to his eyes, tears unshed, begging for freedom but never having it granted.

“I was weak. I never knew what happened to that man. Perhaps my suffering was for nothing and Cazador still drained him dry, took his life while I screamed in my tomb. But I learned that I… I can’t have anyone. They will always belong to him.” Astarion closed his eyes, and added in a broken voice, “I’m terrified that I’m bringing you death.”

Sekh sat up then, pulled Astarion into his arms. He cradled the man, held his head to his chest, stroked his hair as he felt a silent sob wrack the vampire’s body. “I told you he’d never have me,” Sekh whispered, “and I meant it. You don’t belong to him. And nor do I. I won’t ever let that happen to you again.” He held him tighter, and in a voice that felt like fire and steel, added, “I will never let him hurt you again.”

Slowly, Astarion calmed. His trembling subsided, and he sat up himself, pulling from Sekh’s chest. There were no tear stains on his cheeks- but Sekh almost wished there were. It would do the man good, to cry for himself.

“You can’t promise that,” Astarion pointed out.

“Oh, but I can.” Sekh reached for Astarion, caressed his cheek, cradled it softly. “I swear on my life, on my pact with Syl, on everything that I am and ever will be. He will never hurt you. Again.” Astarion nuzzled against his palm, eyelids fluttering shut, as the vampire simply breathed him in, mulled the words over.

If he had an answer, a rebuttal, he kept it to himself. Instead, when he spoke, he only added, “Stubborn fool.” Those eyes fluttered back open. “I shouldn’t expect anything less from a drow.”

Sekh cracked a smile then. “No, you absolutely shouldn’t. We are rather amazing.”

Astarion huffed, turned to kiss Sekh’s palm. “You’re rather ridiculous,” he corrected, but- oh- he was smiling. And Sekh would do anything for one of those smiles. He must have stared, with the same lovesick, dumb look on his face, because Astarion’s cheeks flushed lightly, and he added in a mumble, “and staring.”

“Sorry,” Sekh said, “it’s hard not to.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, before he reached out, shoved Sekh. The drow sprawled on his back, and Astarion crawled over him. “That’s enough talk,” he said, bowing his head and pressing a kiss to Sekh’s throat. “We’re only going to get so much privacy before the rest of our merry band get bored.”

Sekh tipped his head back, exposed his throat, and Astarion dragged his tongue over it, the drow so sure he could feel his pulse. “Is this what you want?” Sekh asked- just wanting to be sure.

Astarion paused, mouth poised over Sekh’s warm skin. For a moment, Sekh could feel just his breath, before the vampire said, in a voice that sounded sure, “Yes.”

The one word affirmation was all Sekh needed. Before Astarion could do more than plant a single kiss against his throat, he was rolling them over, pinning Astarion back to the bed. The vampire arched, as Sekh grasped his wrists, pinned them up towards his head. Astarion’s eyes danced like evening lights.

“Darling,” he purred, “what are you doing?”

His voice was intrigued, dripped with anticipation. Sekh gave him a cocky, sly smile, and pecked his lips quickly. “Taking care of you,” he whispered, before he let go of Astarion’s wrists and slid down his body. He didn’t give the vampire a moment for even a thought, before he was dragging his tongue along his soft cock, making Astarion arch.

He smiled to himself, teased him with his tongue, his hands rubbing Astarion’s thighs, urging them open. The vampire obeyed, as Sekh turned, kissed his pelvis, then the soft skin of one pale, inner thigh. Astarion sighed, and Sekh nipped at the skin, felt Astarion shake, just once.

He grasped the flesh between his teeth harder, enough pressure to ache, and Astarion’s breath caught. Oh. “I want to tear into you,” Sekh admitted, the hand that was on Astarion’s neglected thigh moving to his cock, teasing it. He was half hard already, from just that one bite.

Astarion tossed his head, little noises leaving his pretty lips as Sekh stroked him, teasing his cockhead with his thumb. He kissed the spot he’d bitten, and Astarion pushed his thigh closer to Sekh’s mouth. Taking the invitation, Sekh grasped the flesh in his teeth again, digging in until it had to burn, his teeth indenting into Astarion’s soft skin.

Astarion gasped, arched- and Sekh felt his cock throb, leak precum down over his knuckles. He laved his tongue over his teeth marks, before he sucked at the skin, knowing it had to sting. Astarion squirmed, but not away from him- and when Sekh lifted his head, he knew the flushed skin he’s bathed in his attention would bruise, soon.

The thought made his cunt ache.

He turned his attention back to Astarion’s cock, taking him over his eager tongue, swallowing until he couldn’t fit anymore. The vampire reached for his hair, tangled it around the fingers of both hands, pushing Sekh down further still, until tears beaded in the corners of the drow’s eyes.

Astarion was panting, as Sekh grasped at the thigh he’d bruised, digging his thumb into the sensitive skin. Astarion whined, this sweet, nearly broken sound, and Sekh ground down into the bed- wanting friction, wanting Astarion inside him again. Wanting everything.

The moment Astarion let up even the slightest on pulling at his hair, Sekh was pushing himself up, forcing the vampire to lose his hold. Sekh climbed over him, straddled his hips, and with an ease that was obscene, lowered himself onto Astarion’s cock.

The vampire groaned, eyelids fluttering, eyes nearly rolling. Sekh leaned over him, grasped his wrists, pushing them back to the bed, pinning him down as he rode him. His movements were quick, his hair falling over his shoulders, into his face as he panted.

“Fuck,” Astarion growled, hips rocking up to meet each of Sekh’s movements. “Darling, slow down.”

Sekh bared his teeth, squeezed Astarion’s wrists. “No.” He pressed himself tight to Astarion, had his cock nestled so deep inside him he could nearly choke. Astarion shuddered, mouth falling open- and Sekh knew what the man wanted to say, if he could form words-

He wouldn’t last. He needed Sekh to come first. He needed, he wanted-

“This is about you,” Sekh said, lifting his hips, before slamming them back down again. “Let me just focus on you.”

Astarion tipped his head back, whatever words he had dying on his tongue. Sekh smiled to himself, his thighs beginning to burn as he rode Astarion. He didn’t care. He wanted his lover to find a soul shattering release while simply lying back.

Sekh squeezed his wrists, his cunt clenching around Astarion. His own body yearned for more stimulation, for another release. He ignored it completely, simply enjoying being aroused, as Astarion melted beneath him. The man’s breaths were ragged, his hips losing any rhythm they’d had.

The drow grinned to himself, wicked and divine, watching Astarion’s face contort in sheer ecstasy. His cheeks were flushed, kiss swollen lips open in desperate pants, whining keens of need. And gods those eyes.

“Can you come for me?” Sekh asked, and Astarion managed a nod. Sekh clenched around him, purposefully, and Astarion choked, eyes fluttering open. “Good. Come on Starshine-” he bowed his head down, found Astarion’s ear and breathed into it, “fill me until I’m nothing but you.”

Astarion cried out, wordless, trembling as he obeyed. His orgasm had him nearly thrashing, arching as he pushed against Sekh’s hold on his wrists. The drow pushed him down harder to the bed, continuing to slide along his cock, milking Astarion’s orgasm until the vampire had nothing left for him.

When Astarion began to melt into the bed, Sekh slowed, began to grind against him instead of riding him, getting a bit of friction that sent sparks down his spine. Eyes still closed, Astarion licked his lips, trying to catch his unneeded breath.

“Wicked,” he managed, his eyes slitting open, “wicked, darling boy.” Sekh grinned, finally lifting himself off Astarion, rolling onto his side. The moment he did, Astarion was turning to face him, one hand sliding between his legs, two fingers pushing into him with such ease it had Astarion growling.

Sekh gasped, thighs trembling, as Astarion buried his fingers as deep as he could, nosing at his throat, his jaw. “Don’t you dare waste a drop,” he whispered, fingers thrusting slightly, mostly just curling to push at all of Sekh’s sweet, aching nerves. Sekh bit his lip, and Astarion clicked his tongue, and the moment Sekh released his lip Astarion was there, pinning it between his teeth.

Desperate now, body craving another release to the point that Sekh was dizzy, the drow slid a hand between them, pressed his fingers along his aching clit, rubbing quickly. Astarion released his lip, smiled. “Good,” he said, words breathed against Sekh’s mouth. “Fall apart for me. Let me feel it.” His fingers thrust quicker, and if Sekh’s mind was clear, he’d wonder how it didn’t hurt, how Astarion managed to not catch those sharpened nails on his soft insides even once.

Again- it was as if the vampire couldn’t hurt him.

Sekh tipped his head back, body so close that all his muscles felt knotted. Astarion mouthed at his exposed throat, dragged his fangs along Sekh’s pulse. Sekh saw stars, before everything burst in another crest of pleasure. His cunt tried to milk Astarion’s fingers, and the vampire gave a warm chuckle, bemused by the fact that Sekh’s body was so starving for him.

Sekh touched himself through it, lost in his own body, in each pulsing wave of pleasure. Even as they began to ease he touched, Astarion’s fingers never once letting up.

When Sekh’s hand finally fell away, the vampire slowed his ministrations, but didn’t cease. “Aw, pet,” he cooed, “is that all you have for me?”

Sekh’s eyes fluttered open, and he reached for Astarion’s chin, grasped it and pulled him in for a kiss. He pushed his tongue into the vampire’s mouth, teased those glorious fangs, felt Astarion trying to tame him. He clenched himself around his fingers purposefully, and Astarion gasped, suddenly giving to Sekh’s clawing at dominance.

“No,” Sekh finally said, against Astarion’s lips. “I have so much more for you.” Astarion growled, pulled his fingers from Sekh then, sliding them up between their mouths. Astarion dragged his tongue along them, and Sekh mimicked him, tasted himself mingled with Astarion’s cum.

Astarion parted his fingers, and Sekh’s tongue flicked at the vampire’s. Gods he wanted to go again already, wanted to ride Astarion again until the vampire was screaming for him.

But before he could roll the man over, climb back onto him, he could hear loud footsteps, outside their rooms. Laughter.

It seemed their time was up.

Sekh frowned, and Astarion sighed. The vampire pulled from Sekh, stood up and stretched. “I believe that’s the after party,” he said, nodding towards the door.

Sekh flopped over onto his belly, still frowning. “Dammit,” he mumbled, as Astarion found his own discarded underwear, stepping into them. “I wasn’t done.”

Astairon glanced over his shoulder, now holding his pants. “You are insatiable.”

“You weren’t done either,” Sekh pointed out, and the vampire simply flashed him a toothy smile, before getting into his pants. He gathered up Sekh’s own pants and underwear- which had somehow managed to be flung with enough force to land on Gale’s bed- and handed both to the drow.

“Maybe if you can be quiet,” Astarion teased, bending over and pecking his lips quickly, “We can have a little more fun once they’re all asleep.” Sekh choked, as Astarion straightened up, adding, “of course, we both know you can’t.”

He grabbed his shirt, carrying it with him as he crossed the room. Sekh grinned, called out after him, “You can’t either!”

Astarion didn’t once pause to challenge him.

Sekh hurriedly squirmed into his underwear and pants- was sitting on the bed when Astarion opened the door, leaned against it and greeted a rather tipsy Gale and Shadowheart. Sekh didn’t bother to listen to what they said, as the two entered.

“Were you two not done?” Shadowheart asked, folding her arms as she reached Sekh. Gale sat down on his own bed, sighing because it had to be nice not to have his aching joints cushioned by just a bedroll.

“Maybe not,” Sekh teased, and Gale groaned.

“I regret choosing this bed,” the wizard said. “Shadowheart, want to switch?”

“Absolutely not.” she sat down on the edge of Gale’s bed, seeming to think for a moment. “Wait… who is on your other side?”

“Karlach.” Gale looked a bit confused, and Shadowheart grinned.

“I might change my mind, then.”

Sekh bit back a laugh. He had to wonder if Shadowheart was ever going to follow through with a single of her flirtatious remarks regarding the tiefling. He doubted Karlach would have a single complaint.

Speaking of- “Where is Karlach?”

“She and Wyll just came back- and yes, they have our resident child in tow.” Shadowheart said it fondly. “Hence why we’re here. If it wasn’t Gale and I- Lae’zel was going to burst through those doors and demand you two stop mid act if needed so she could sleep.”

Sekh smiled, just as he heard the door opening again, the room flooding with the rest of their companions. Astarion was with them, shirt now on, walking next to Karlach, who had Yenna in one arm, the child draped across her shoulder, dead asleep.

“That one,” Astarion said, pointing to a bed around the corner of the room, from the one Sekh sat on. “She’ll want to be close to Sekh, I’m sure.”

Karlach nodded, heading up the single stair to the enclave, Yenna’s cat following behind in perfect step. Sekh watched the cat, felt a strange tingle in his mind, almost a recognition.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, as Astarion returned to him, passed a cup he was holding to Sekh. For a moment Sekh thought it was wine, which really wasn’t what he needed- but the cup was quite cold.

He took a sip as Astarion sat down next to him, the man saying something to Gale that had the wizard groaning, exclaiming he hadn’t had enough wine to deal with him.

It was just water.

Sekh glanced at Astarion, must have stared, because the vampire looked at him, quirked a brow. “What?”

“Uh. Nothing.” Sekh glanced down at the glass, and Astarion cleared his throat, made a point to look away.

“I just assumed you’d need it.” He turned his attention back to Gale and Shadowheart- but there was the faintest color to his cheeks, the tips of his ears.

Sekh smiled, taking another sip, the cool water soothing on his throat. Astarion had said he didn’t know what they were, didn’t know how to be anything-

But Sekh would argue he did. He would argue that Astarion even thinking about his needs was the vampire already doing more than he thought himself capable of.

Sekh leaned over, pressed a kiss to Astarion’s temple- and without looking, the vampire slid an arm around his waist, pulled him closer.

This would be alright, Sekh told himself. In the end, no matter what- this would be alright.

It had to be.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #sekh'met #sekstarion #eternally yours #astarion/tav #astarion x tav

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