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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 5 months ago

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The Missing Piece

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Spencer is always leaving little gifts for you, mostly flowers that you use to brighten your apartment. There is always one flower missing, and you finally find out the reason why.

Square Filled: gift for @goodthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

This is one of those rare days when you wake up before your alarm. You had gone to bed early last night since Spencer went to bed early. He had a tough day at work, and since you don’t like to be up by yourself when someone is sleeping, you went to bed with him. Spencer is such a light sleeper that you’re afraid of making noise that will wake him. He barely gets enough sleep as it is.

You roll over in bed and bury your face in Spencer’s pillow. His side of the bed is cold since he left it to go to work a few hours ago. The blackout curtains do a really good job of keeping the light out so you don’t know if it’s barely sunrise or if the sun has been up for hours.

You get out of bed and peel the curtains back slowly to let in enough light for your eyes to adjust. You continue until the curtains are all the way open and the entire room is bright. Something Spencer loves doing is leaving little gifts for you like flowers or candy or your favorite coffee. This time, it’s a beautiful bouquet of flowers that’s sitting on the bedside table next to your phone. The bouquet consists of roses, sunflowers, and lilies that he most likely put together from the local flower shop down the street.

I hope these brighten your day. I love you so much - Spencer

You clutch the note in your hand with a smile and walk over to the closet. There is a box of every single letter Spencer has written you. You don’t throw anything out because you love keeping these little tokens of your relationship. The only thing you throw out that he has given you are the flowers.

You take the bouquet and walk to the kitchen to separate them into smaller bouquets that you can put all over the house. There are six spots where you put flowers to give the rooms a bit of color, so you remove the old ones and put the new ones in. However, there is always just one left over because Spencer never gives you a full bouquet. He always gives you eleven flowers instead of twelve.

You’re not sure why but you never ask him. You’re just grateful to get flowers.

You and Spencer always schedule lunch together unless he’s on an active case, and the B Team is in the field for this week. To pass the time, you get started on your morning chores. You want Spencer to come home to a clean house. He works hard so that you don’t have to. It’s not that you’re incapable of getting a job or unable to hold one down, you just love being a stay-at-home wife.

It gives you the opportunity to work on your art. You love sewing, embroidering, and knitting anything you can get your hands on. You have your own Etsy shop that you make things for, and a lot of people on Facebook Marketplace want to buy your items. By not having a normal nine-to-five job, it gives you plenty of time to work on your craft. You have a bunch of commissions to work on so after your morning chores, you get to work on one of them. Once you get in the zone, it’s easy to make two hours feel like ten minutes.

Around lunchtime, you set your work aside and get ready in something light and flowing. It’s a nice day outside and you don’t want to be stuck wearing jeans and a T-shirt. You take public transportation to work since Spencer took the car this morning, and you reach the BAU in thirty minutes. The receptionist knows you by heart so she checks you in with a visitor badge before you go to the elevator.

JJ and Derek pass by with files in their hands when you enter the bullpen, and they both smile at you.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I’m taking Spencer to lunch. Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah, he’s in Hotch’s office. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

They walk off and you approach his desk. Everything is neat and in order, not to your surprise. You sit down and twirl around before spotting a single rose on his desk. It’s the same color rose as the one that was in the bouquet he gave you this morning.

“Hey, I’m ready to go.”

“Is that the missing flower from my bouquet this morning? Which, I loved by the way. Thank you.”

“Yeah, I keep one on my desk so I know when it’s time to get you a new bouquet.” The feeling of love floods your body at the simple gesture. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m always ready,” you grin.

He kisses the top of your head and leads you out of the BAU. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for this man and clearly, he feels the same.

Want to be tagged? 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 fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fiction #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fiction

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workerty · 8 months ago

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Sell your unwanted items fast & local with Workerty Classifieds Local buyers are ready for your pre-loved gems! ⚡ #makemoneyonline #workertyclassifieds #sellfast #shoplocal #prelovedfinds #secondhandfirst #declutter #treasurehunt #cashforclothes #convenience

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jackiepackiee · 8 days ago

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Telemachus x Apollo Blessed! Reader

Chapter One

Chapter two

Prince Telemachus who is favored by Athena with a reader who's favored by Apollo. Both under the guidance of the god and goddess of wisdom and knowledge respectively. One a fierce warrior and the other a lovely musician. Yet complete opposites of their role when it comes to a peaceful artist and intimidating opponent.

an - Telemachus will be here next chapter, don’t worry

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The Gods and Goddesses of Greece were known for many things, scorned by some and yet worshipped by many. One thing they were especially known for was to do in their contact with humans. In love, childbirth, war, and death, the gods changed the lives of many mortals, warranted not always for the better.

And two of the most powerful among these sky dwelling immortals were no strangers to this meddling in human affairs. Romantic rendezvous of the most personal kind to forging warriors with nothing but a cheap sword and minds of steel.

Apollo and Athena, god and goddess of Wisdom and Knowledge respectively, meant to pass on their skills to the humans of earth that they deemed worthy.

And complete opposites.

One, the most handsome god in all of Olympus. Often finding himself entangled with mortals that caught his attention. If not for Aphrodite, it would come as a shock to very few if he was the god of love with his affection for many throughout history.

The other, known as the virgin goddess for her complete disinterest in all romance. Living for the fight, mind a fortress that no warrior or crush could infiltrate.

Oh how unlucky were they when choosing their new mortals to train for the new generations…

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The sun was on its journey to rise above Ithaca, letting its golden light rest across the bustling marketplace, filled with the chatter of vendors and the clinking of coins. It was how it usually was with each new kingdom you moved to. At least each one had a similar experience in shopping, full of the same crowds.

Young children straying from their mothers who bought the household essentials, men who bought tools or just passed through. And boys, the same age as you. All mostly tan with black hair. Every kingdom had its similarities, especially with its choices of acquaintances.

“How about that one? The boys in Ithaca are cute for you, maybe one taller than you? Or are girls more your type? I haven’t asked you that yet, have I?” Apollo’s voice rings out in his usual smooth, teasing tone.

Of course, one thing that was always the same in every kingdom was Apollo as well. Your oh so loving patron god. Stuck to your side since you were little. God of oracles, healing, archery, music and arts, light, knowledge… blah blah. He loved to remind you of all his titles.

But at the moment he is pointing out the other boys around your age in the marketplace. Since he’s unseen by the public, he’s twirling some of the curly hair of a brunette next to you before moving over to a boy buying a loaf of bread and inspecting his face.

“Don’t you have the gift of knowing the future, great god of prophecy?” You retorted, rolling your eyes yet keeping your mouth closed. Easy to talk to a god when he reads your mind when you share your thoughts… You just felt lucky you didn’t look crazy talking to thin air.

Even if he was unseen, he was always excited to interact with the locals in one way or another.

“Unfortunately my little ray of sunshine,” he teases again, poking your cheek enough to bring out a huff from your lips. “I can only see the more important facts of the future. Your love life isn’t the same level of importance as a titan breaking free.~”

You, as usual, ignored his teasing, his poking and prodding was something you had been forced to get used to over the years. Despite moving from town to island across Greece, he had always found where you were and his interest meant a strange sort of friendship.

“Really, in all my years of knowing you I haven’t seen you give even a second glance to these people.” His eyes washed over all the crowds in the busy street, but he was no longer content with the choices he had. Now ignoring the boys who he seemed so fond of only seconds before.

“Are my choices not good enough? Don’t tell me you have high standards.” His whining was sarcastic, as it always was. If you didn’t know by the shining golden hair and a bow in his arm you’d think he was Hermes.

Before he could continue his onslaught of “boy talk”, you let your thoughts into his mind as your response.

“You’re one to talk. I think most people know you because of your little adventures of human love.”

Despite your refute, he didn’t back down on his bright smile and insistence of romance. Ignoring your words completely.

“So I am right, you do have high standards. What do you look for in a person? Good looks, godly power? Because I think you’re out of luck.” He gestured to the boys in the market, now completely uninterested in all of them.

All he got in response was a huff of agreement to respond to one of his questions. You would answer, and he was happy since you would usually shut his inquiries down before he could spit them out.

“I guess… somebody who’s willing to help others. But not someone weak, I don’t want to have to protect anyone all the time, I would be too stressed out to ever leave them alone.”

The market was busy, filled with new weapons built in Sparta, comfortable Chitons from Mycenae, and a booth of items from Athens. Greatly known as a city that had many temples for the gods and adored Apollo as one of the main powers, especially his music. So seeing beautifully strung lyres on the cloth of the table was no shock.

“Oh, and someone who likes the arts. A person who can appreciate beauty and passion.”

As you talked you hadn’t realized you picked up one of the lyres, mindlessly tuning the strings and strumming an almost divine tune. Apollo was your music teacher after all.

“I think passion is one of the most important things in the world, for gods or humans. They need to be confident. Not in an egotistical way, but they need to be proud of themselves for their victories either small or large.”

Before you could continue, Apollo was laughing. That wasn’t a good sign, he never laughed unless something was happening and as far as you were concerned it must’ve been recent.

Looking around for the source of the laughter you quieted your mind from your monologue on love… oh.

This whole time you had thought you were just mindlessly tuning the lyre, but instead it was playing a lovely melody. Your fingers seemed to work in muscle memory to create a tune. This was the song you were currently writing… great.

Not only that, but the surrounding crowd at the stalls of bread, wine, and clothes were all watching with looks of confusion and interest.

This sucks. You didn’t ask for this attention.

Before you can place the instrument back down and apologize for touching the equipment of the shop opener, a little girl tugs at the waist of your chiton.

“Excuse me?” Her sweet voice calls out, a small hand having a vice grip on your clothing. She was adorable, who were you to ignore such a nice kid?

“Yes? Is there something you need?” You replied, no longer hearing the laughs of Apollo. In fact, the market sounded much quieter than normal. Still you bent down, getting closer to eye level with the child. Her fist freeing your dress and going shyly behind her back.

“Could you play more music? It was really pretty.” She glanced up at you shyly, before returning her gaze to her feet. Who in their right mind would say no to her?

Probably someone who was asked to play music is a market full of strangers with no prepared songs in mind…

“I appreciate your kindness, but-”

“Please?” Before you could finish a little boy ran up to you next, his eyes even more puppy dog than the girls. “We wanna hear the… the?”

He was pointing at the instrument, now less excited and more confused. His pleading eyes turned curious.

“The lyre, it’s an instrument for playing music.” You explained, petting the boy's head gently. Your smile warmed your cheeks as his excitement returned to his face.

“Play it! Play it!” The two chanted, and now you really couldn’t ignore them.

So you gave in, strumming the strings just as Apollo taught you. Creating a beautiful song of joy, humming mindless lyrics that were yet to be created.

And as you played, the children danced. Left in fits of giggles and spins, song pulling in the rest of the small ones from their mothers side to join the fun. It was adorable, pure childish fun.

You couldn’t help but laugh with them, continuing the song. Watching all their smiling faces with content.

But this break of peace was suddenly broken by a shopkeeper. A man, in middle age, with a scornful expression. Heavy brows furrowed as he glared menacingly over the street. His shoulders held highly over the crowd of children. One of which being tugged at by his burly hands.

“Quit it, you’re blocking the work.” His voice called roughly, commanding the end of joy and ruining the laughter of innocence.

All of the little ones stopped, some running back to their mothers so they could hide behind their legs and others standing frozen at the tall beast of a man.

Without thinking you gently placed the lyre back onto its original stand at its booth and walked up to the man. Gripping his wrist that held the child’s shoulder and tugging the kid free.

“Is there a problem?” You snapped at him, letting go of his wrist and standing straight. The child you freed running to hide behind your legs, watching in fear.

A crowd had gathered, but unfortunately the market rarely had strong men. Either gone for Troy or lazing as suitors in the castle, there was no knight in shining armor. Not that you needed one.

Mothers and their children, as well as older gentlemen and teen boys watched on, pulling away.

“This is a workplace, not a place for play.” He barked back at you, the sun dimming in the sky. Apollo was quick to become unhappy, as he usually was when you were in trouble.

“They’re children, all they do is play.” Retorting, you gestured to the young now hidden in fear. “I am the one you have an issue with.” Your eyes stalked upward into his, cold and unforgiving.

How dare he be so harsh with the innocent souls of the young?

“Maybe you are the one I have an issue with, girl.” He stepped towards you, the air growing thick as if time had stilled and each surrounding audience member had stolen all the oxygen during their bated breath.

“And yet you will do nothing. This is a place for ‘work,’ not ‘play.’” You didn’t step back, instead standing your ground. You continued. “And if that is true, you should get back to work before the day is lost.” The sun glowed behind your head, creating a darker silhouette of your frame.

Unwilling to move, the man stood in stillness for a few seconds. Challenging you with his eyes, but seeing you not back down he just huffed. His chest deflated as his chin wasn’t held as high as it was before. He averted his gaze from you, tearing his eyes to the ground next to you.

“Fine.” Was all he said before he shuffled back to his stall.

As you watched him, the child you pulled from him hugged your leg.

“Thank you.” She sniffled out, nuzzling into your thigh and slightly shaking. It was heartbreaking to observe her fear.

“Everything is okay, sweetheart.” You smiled and pet her head, letting your fingers feel her soft hair. Her tenseness faded away and she slowly let go of your leg, looking up at you with gratitude.

Apollo had made sure the sun was shining bright again. Giving you a proud smile and nodding towards the lyre you once prayed. Insinuating you strum again for the children.

So strum you did, spending the rest of your morning with the children and their mothers of the town singing soft songs of beauty.

If only you had known Queen Penelope would catch wind of this…

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Taglist-

@dog-and-cat-person230 @m-carriaga2021

#telemachus epic the musical #telemachus epic #telemachus x reader #telemachus #epic the musical x reader #epic x reader #epic #epic the vengeance saga #epic the wisdom saga #epic odysseus #odyssey

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cheralith · 2 years ago

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to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part ii) 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, some fluff if you squint

word count ; 4.3k

notes ; at long last, here's the much waited part two! truly didn't expect the first part to blow up like it did, but i'm ever so grateful for all the support and the patience for those still here!

parts ; one two three (tba)

“Lyla, show me the nearest florist from here.”

“The nearest flower shop? That’s gonna be Business is Blooming on 27th Street—”

“27th Street?!” Miguel exclaims, his shock at the distance startling him and making his hands accidentally tighten the belt he was fixing much too tightly. He lets out a strangled choking sound and quickly loosens it before his legs lose oxygen, a feat that he’d hate to do just minutes prior to an event that could possibly change his life for the better. “That’s at least fifteen minutes away and on the opposite side of Clark! I’m already late, aren’t there any other ones closer?”

Lyla’s smaller holographic form pieces together on top of his full-body mirror that displays him in a formal-casual attire consisting of a cream turtleneck, black dress pants buckled with a coffee brown belt and topped altogether with a sepia overcoat that hadn’t seen the light of day since he bought it all those years ago. She puckers her grinning lips, a little amused at the rarity of Miguel in such an outfit and thinking he looks like a cup of coffee.

“Well, there’s always that crowded grocery store on Main?” she suggests as she examines her fingernails, instantly changing the pattern of them with a snap of her fingers. “But that’s gonna cost ya another twenty minutes and you’re already what—? Ten minutes late?”

Miguel fights off a groan at her teasing. “Lyla, I’m serious. Are there genuinely not any other ones around here? Any local ones? C’mon, this is Nueva York, there has to be at least one.”

“You could always try the marketplace. But then again, it’s Sunday so might not really be wise to take your chances,” Lyla shrugs.

Miguel even wonders if men these days still even have the dignity to give their partners flowers after realizing there is a significant lack of florists in today’s day and age. He wouldn’t be like them; flowers are a timeless gift everyone enjoys and he thinks if he can’t get it for you, he might as well not call himself a man at all.

His eyes go to spot the window in the reflection of the mirror where the sun is beginning to finally set and the city’s nightlife is rising from the dead. Buildings of all heights buster from every corner and the open road that eradicates much of the land dissolves a weary pit in his stomach, obviously annoyed at the many obstacles that block his path. Miguel takes another glance at the clock, the minute hand inching closer and closer and closer to 6:00. The initial plans were to leave the apartment by 5:30, acquire some gifts for you and then travel to the restaurant by 6:00, but seeing as how he’s still trapped in his abode, Miguel thinks that he can only do so much.

But he realizes that’s for Miguel O’Hara, renowned Alchemax geneticist and full-time father. Miguel O’Hara, an everyday citizen, couldn’t possibly crunch so much in such little time.

For Spider-Man, however…

Lyla eyes him suspiciously and purses her lips when Miguel looks at his wrists and then at the window again. “I don’t think that’s wise, Miguel.”

“What’s wise?” he replies coyly, going to quickly shovel off his clothes to replace them with a familiar blue and red attire.

“I know whatcha gonna do,” Lyla says and glitches around him as he searches for his suit. “But it’s not gonna end well, I’m tellin’ ya right now, mister!”

Miguel shakes her caution off, too occupied with shuffling on his superhero suit onto his body before neatly tucking his other outfit into his hammerspaced pocket. “It’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to get her some flowers and then I’ll be on my way. Lock up the house for me, yeah?”

“You’re not gonna make it,” Lyla shakes her head. “Just ditch the flowers and get her something on the way instead.”

But the last of Lyla’s words don’t make it to Miguel’s ears, as he’s already slinging and gliding himself out of the window and toward the given address of the florist. Lyla can only watch in artificial disdain as Miguel’s figure grows smaller and smaller through the passing seconds. She sighs, rolling her eyes as she flickers off the apartment lights before disintegrating.

The roar of the city life grows louder and louder the more Miguel comes closer to the center of it where the flower shop lays. People gather in clusters bustling about all over, making him a little weary of himself as he stares at them from above a high tower. He’s not exactly an ordinary passerby that can easily maneuver their way through so easily—especially not with this getup. Spider-Man is also a name that rather became widespread across the city of Nueva York, meaning that even if one person were to see the flash of blue and red, he’s up for trouble.

The evildoers tonight seem to be at cease, thankfully. He hasn’t heard of any malicious plotting or future events that will take place today by any of the supervillains that hunt him down like deer recently. Then again, there’s always smaller crimes still waiting to be stopped, but he’s sure the cops will come around for those. Miguel convinces himself it’ll just be a one time thing.

Yet when the familiar song of police sirens blare through the city, he twitches at the thought of leaving such miscreants in the hands of police when he’s sure he can take them down like an army of ten men.

But the police have ten men on them, so truly he can just leave it alone, right? He’s essentially in front of the flower shop that’s seated below an apartment building. All he has to do is just jump down, get the flowers, and leave in the nick of time. He doesn’t have time to dilly dally with low-rated criminals.

Then again, when he spots the gang of robbers in two white vans speeding down the road at a blistering speed without any caution for pedestrians, Miguel grits his teeth. On their tail is a rally of five police cars that keep gaining and losing them by the second and Miguel isn’t sure whether the irritation was from his indecisiveness or the fact that if he didn’t do anything, there will be consequences.

Perhaps do both to ease his mind? No, he can’t do that. You’re most likely on your way to the restaurant, all dolled up and fresh-faced. He still would need the time to fix himself up in some dingy public bathroom. A cop car that’s been hiding in the corner joins the chase—that’s surely more than enough to take care of them?

Miguel’s eyes go back and forth... back and forth between the two sights. Anxiety is doing little to help his situation and a mist of sweat begins to form on his skin the more the seconds tick by, making the innermost part of his suit much more uncomfortable and moist. A clock hangs by an awning nearby that displays the haunting time of 6:03 PM, just twenty-seven minutes shy of the designated 6:30 meeting time.

He glances one more time at the chase, swallowing a thick lump in his throat when he sees the vans hurdle full speed toward an open street of walking pedestrians, all ignorant of the fact to what beholds them in just mere seconds.

Miguel curses under his breath.

It’ll only be this for today, no more after that.

Fatigued eyes go to watch as the last people leave the restaurant, leaving you isolated in your little corner both embarrassed and hungry due to the heavy lack of food served on your platter for tonight. The other waiters begin to scrub the tables and booths free of crumbs and topple the chairs onto them, indicating that tonight has drawn to its close. You think you’ve memorized the entirety of the menu at this point, considering it’s really all you’ve been averting your eyes towards to avoid the looks of others.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the waiters and waitresses pitifully gossiping about you and a heat flashes onto your face by how incredibly desolate you’ve looked in the past three hours. Internally, you thank them for their patience and how they’ve tolerated your excuses for your date’s tardiness-turned-absence, knowing that it must be a pain to look after someone that hadn’t even ordered anything besides water for the time she had been here.

You don’t even wait for your waitress to come to your table for the nth time tonight, going by your own initiative to pack up your things. Your phone is still devoid of any notifications from Miguel, as well, even after the four calls, occasional text checkups, and last minute voicemailed question of a needed rescheduling if he so desired.

What remains is just a grayed out Read, 7:47 PM underneath all the text bubbles.

“I… sincerely apologize if I loitered at all,” you murmur with your head half-down to the young host who shuffles the menus back into the lectern. “This was truly the last thing that I had expected from him…”

You instantly take back that statement the moment it leaves your lips. If anything, you should’ve known that this would’ve happened. Foolish you were—you’ve been with Miguel for the past three years, this was everyday behavior for him. You suppose this is how Gabriella must feel constantly and another heartache pits itself within you at the shared feeling.

The host shakes his head sympathetically. “You wouldn’t be our first case, I’m sure you didn’t have any ill intent. If anything, I’m the one sorry that he made you wait that long,” he replies with evident pity. “Whoever he is, he must be a dick for leaving such a pretty thing like you alone all night, ma’am.”

“Oh, he’s—” you fall short on your words, not even having the energy to sorely defend Miguel’s name. “Never mind…” you mutter.

“Do you need a cab?” asks the host, “Well actually, I’m about to clock out for tonight. I can drive you home, if you want. It’s the least I can do for you after tonight.”

You’re about to reply to him to turn down the offer, as you suspect he’s the type of guy to use women in these situations to his advantage, but the doors suddenly burst open to reveal the one and only in a hazy state and what seems to… flowers clutched in his hands? The petals, however, are corrugated and some have even completely drooped down from their stem. The paper that is supposed to guard them is wrinkled and torn at the corners. Almost all of the bouquet is wilted, much like your own composure for tonight.

Miguel isn’t much better. Hair and clothes a little damp, he’s frazzled and evidently guilty, as his face pales when he sees your contrasting appearance. You’re adorned in an a-lined, half-sleeved royal blue dress that made you look so regal in comparison to your daily white blouse-black pants outfit that he's seen too much of. Not to mention additional details of your styled hair and accessories just brought out the best of your beauty that was wasted on essentially nothing this evening.

“Mr. O’Hara…” you breathe when he passes through the door. The first thing that you notice automatically when his face properly comes into view is a sharply jagged, yet thin cut on the side of his cheek. “Did someth—”

“(Y/N), I’m so… so sorry,” he chokes out. “Something c-came up at work and they asked me to help them out… I’m sorry, I know I should’ve said no, but they were kind of on my ass about it and I got so caught up with it, so I wasn’t able to text you and—”

“She waited three hours,” the host drones and juts his thumb toward the dining area where all the chairs are laid atop the tables. Its lights flicker out, leaving only the foyer and smaller hallways lit so dismally in the night. “Until closing. She didn’t order anything in the meantime, so not only you left her alone tonight, you left her alone and hungry.”

“Hey listen, bud,” Miguel snaps at the host. He points a finger at him with irate in his eyes. “Not your business, so stay out of it.”

The host scoffs with a smirk on his face. “Not the first time I’ve heard that and certainly not the first time I’ve seen this happen. Guys like you always—”

You raise a hand to stop their bickering, afraid of what might happen if things escalate further as you really didn’t desire to do anything more than just sleep off your feelings. Both men stop and turn to look at you with concern on their faces.

“Do you still need that ride home?”

“Are you still hungry?”

A frustrated head shake finally silences the both of them.

“I’m fine, thank you for the offer, though,” you say quietly to the host. You turn to Miguel, who swallows at the sight of your tired eyes. “May we talk outside? I’d hate to stay here any longer than I need to.”

Miguel attempts to excuse himself one more time, but when you begin to pace yourself toward the door without waiting for him, he realizes he can’t exactly make any more decisions of his own any more this evening. Not after choosing his heroic duties again and again for tonight instead of tending to you.

The moon and stars tonight have made their presence with the special guest of light rain coming in for a visit. The whisper of a drizzle ghosts itself on your goosebumps skin and the chill of a wind nips at your flesh.

Miguel is quick to follow you. “I’m really sorry again, (Y/N),” he utters so softly that it makes your heart ache with familiarity. It’s the same tone of voice he’s used with Gabriella when at times, he wasn’t able to make it to her events or practices like he promised. “Are you still hungry by any chance? I know a good 24/7 diner that’s pretty close here.”

Without turning around, you politely shake your head and begin to search for any cabs coming your way. “I’ll be okay. I think I have some leftovers in the fridge that can suffice.”

The thought of you eating alone like he did on a night that you shouldn’t be sends shivers of guilt down Miguel’s spine. He curses himself at his past actions—deciding that it was stupid to catch those robbers who didn’t even put up much of a fight, to stop that gang brawl that was happening on the corner of 5th that was resolved the moment the elderly shopkeeper began to yell, to help that old lady that was certainly taking her sweet time to cross the street. They were such unbelievably mild crimes that he didn’t need to attend to, but did anyway even with the thought of you in mind.

Perhaps he should’ve had more faith in technology, because he’s sure Lyla was going to have much fun taunting him for the rest of the week.

“You can keep the flowers, too,” you say softly when a cab begins to pull up. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think I have a vase to store them in unfortunately.”

Miguel’s grip on the dismal bouquet tightens, not even trying to fight your refusal as you get into a cab. He stops the door from closing just as you’re about to, trying one last time to make up for his actions.

“At least let me pay for your cab,” Miguel whispers.

You know he’s sorry. You can see in his eyes the familiar gleam of woe that he’s given to his daughter. Your eyes go to flicker at the cut again, but you know that if you ask, he’s sure to give one his many excuses because it isn’t the first time he’s shown up with an injury before. And you don’t want to put yourself through that wall of verbal familiarity.

With sorrow gentleness, you pry his fingers off the edge of the car and shut it, putting a physical barrier between you and Miguel. The eyes of the driver goes to pitifully glance at your state before beginning to rev up the engine.

You don’t even have the courage to share a glance towards Miguel one last time before the cab begins to drive off—your wallow of disappointment is deep enough as it is.

The rest of the week is agonizingly slow; Miguel dares to say it’s torturous, even.

He’s thankful you’re still acknowledging his existence and talking with him, but your conversations lack the usual warmth and gentle playfulness they often had. It was already lonely enough dealing with the lack of a third person like him at home, but the feeling of isolation felt even more scarring this time because when he came home late after your babysitting session, you didn’t bother with small talk with him, the only thing that made him realize he didn't have to do everything by himself alone.

You didn’t ask how the late shift was, how were the bosses treating him, if he was getting enough rest… no, you only kept him updated on his daughter's schoolwork and any future events regarding her and her only. Your words never included him or you, only finishing off with a goodbye and have a nice night.

At least you were still kind enough to fix him the usual leftovers.

Work itself wasn’t much better. Conversations were brief and the lab in which you two worked privately was filled with silence that was only broken with the occasional demands and directions of lab work. Sometimes a forced cough would sneak its way through Miguel’s lips if the silence began to disturb him too much. He attempted to make some at the beginning, asking how your day was and whether your father was on your tail again, but he was met with short, sharp responses.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m not sure.”

Never have such words been so agonizing before. Ironic that they are because Miguel often hated it when people rambled and preferred it when conversations got to the point. He supposes, though, you get to the point too fast for his liking nowadays.

When he tried bringing up an explanation for Sunday’s events, you’d quickly shut it down as tenderly as possible, saying things along the lines of “It’s alright, your schedule is hectic. I can understand.” or “I just hope your work didn’t give you too much trouble.” You’re so polite about it that it hurts him. Miguel would much rather have you lash out and insult him than have you soften the landing that does barely anything to ease him because it feels like you’ve put on that mask you put in front of others—professional and orderly—and Miguel didn’t want to be seen as just a mere coworker, let alone your boss, to you.

His pride bites at his ankles. Lies coming out of his lips too regularly, he had to fib to Gabriella the morning after her sleepover when she asked about the date that you had fallen sick and weren’t able to make it. The disappointment on her face mimicked yours too eerily. She asked him if they were going to reschedule it. Miguel could only shrug his shoulders—he wasn’t even sure if you wanted anything to do with him after that event.

At least nothing changed with you and his daughter. He’d still home to an apartment with you helping with homework or her helping with dinner or tucking her into bed. That’s all he could ask for right now.

Miguel still had the chance to redeem himself this week. There was the annual banquet held at a banquet hall to celebrate the yearly achievements Alchemax and those associated had accomplished, as well as discussing major plans for the future. It was a boring, yet formal event used for connections and idle chatter, something Miguel usually didn’t look forward to. Lyla suggested to him to convince you to go and that Gabriella would just have a one-time babysitter while you got to enjoy (or in your case, put up) with his company as he redeemed himself best as possible. You’re not one to talk with others you’ve never met, so he knew that you would most likely stick by his side for a sense of familiarity.

It took a while, but you murmured you’d go under your breath to shake him off your tail. Miguel was elated, but it was quickly shut down halfheartedly by the reminder that you were still somewhat upset by Sunday’s incident, saying you’d take a cab to the banquet instead of driving with him like he offered.

No matter, as long as you were there by his side.

Miguel made sure that this time, he’d be out the door much earlier than the last, promising to never keep you waiting longer than a minute. A text on his phone pings that you’re near the back entrance, where the parking lot was so it’d be easier to find you. He swerves a little too harshly into the lot—either from nervousness or excitement or both—at the mention and had spotted you near the staircase adorned in a floor-length blushed, ivory pink halter gown with luminescent tulle, making you look like the human embodiment of an ocean pearl.

His eyes are so fixed on you that he didn’t realize he almost knocked himself straight into an oncoming BMW. The owner, a crabby old man he recognizes from human resources, swears and honks at him, making Miguel hide his face before hurriedly parking a little more safely.

When he approaches you, he drinks you in your full glory. Everything about you is so fresh… so exhilarating. You’ve done your hair with a couple of clips this time, with more subtle jewelry this time. Your makeup looks tidy and perfect and Miguel enjoys the way it emphasizes your best features instead of morphing them. If only he was wiser on Sunday, he would’ve been able to savor a different version of you in blue.

Nevertheless, you still manage to take his breath away with just a simple breath like you always have. It’s just that it was only recently had Miguel realized you had that ability and he’d be alright experiencing it again and again if it was with you.

“Mr. O’Hara?” you say and wave a soft wave in front of his face to break his trance. Somehow, you begin to grow self-conscious. Perhaps he didn’t like it? Maybe it was too revealing… the slit at the halter neckline did somewhat peek at your cleavage and you weren’t used to baring your shoulders out. “I-is everything okay?”

Miguel blinks a couple of times. His surroundings finally come into focus like your figure, making him realize how long he had been staring. “Apologies. I… never got to tell you this on Sunday, but I hope to do it now, (Y/N)... ” he clears his throat and straightens his posture, remembering to act everything out as practiced, before softly whispering with evident fondness that, “You look beautiful, tonight.”

A spark of surprise shocks your features for a brief moment, before your usual modesty is displayed again. Eye contact is broken, for you can’t fathom the thought of someone like Miguel O’Hara, favored in every possible way, would be complimenting you so casually. “Oh um. Thank you,” you choke out halfheartedly.

Miguel leans over slightly over your figure and tucks a lock of stray hair behind your ear. If he wanted to truly make up for what happened, he was going to have to go all out tonight, even if that meant rocketing out of his comfort zone. He just barely catches you hitching a breath at the semi-intimate of physical contact as he tries his best to hide his own when he murmurs in your ear again.

“I’m not saying it out of manners, I’m saying it factually,” he mumbles, eyeing the passersby that stare in wonder at you. Some ego swells inside of him at the jealous looks that are given to him. “You’ve bewitched me and many others already.”

You stray your gaze away at him with your hands fiddling at the skirt of your dress. “You didn’t have to, but thank you for the dress, by the way,” you murmur timidly. “I’ve never heard of a brand called Lyla, but I admit, this dress of theirs is rather nice.”

Miguel furrows his brows at the mention before Lyla briefly appears on your head, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up before disappearing. It doesn’t take Miguel long to realize that Lyla had shipped something so pristine to you without his permission, though he supposes that she had done him and you a favor given how majestic you look tonight.

He lets out a soft breath of a chuckle before shaking his head. Maybe he’ll give her some upgrades in return.

You turn your head behind you, not knowing what he was looking at. “Is something wrong? Is there something in my hair?”

“No, no. Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts…” Miguel interjects before offering his arm to you. “We should get going. I’d hate for a dress like this to go to waste for only my eyes.”

Internally, Miguel wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be greedy and have you all for himself, savor your every move tonight, have you and him be the only ones in this place. He didn’t want anyone to look towards your direction and have you look at anyone else besides him. A little venomous thought of people not realizing you had so much more potential than they realized embeds in himself, and that their awe for tonight was too artificial. He wanted more and to give you more, but then again, he’s still Spider-Man at the end of the day, the impossible man that somehow does it all and faces the consequences head on. He can only offer a regular day citizen like you so much.

But for now, he’ll make do with what he can. Not as Spider-Man this time, but as Miguel O’Hara.

a/n ; hi yeah don't panic, there'll be a part three lmfao i lied lolol. most likely it'll be the last part to this little series i've got going, too, since i think making it a fully fledged series would kind of lead some things astray for me. that doesn't mean the end of the miggy o'hare writings, however! still will most definitely attempt to write for him bc bro's GLORIOUS

thank you all for the patience for part ii, and i hope to see that part iii comes out asap! i'll give updates for it as always, but in the meantime, thank you for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and infinitely appreciated ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ !

taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @toofsfairys @raeisthebae (for those with strikethroughs, i'm not able to tag you for some reason :(!)

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader

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facebookmarketplacecore · 16 days ago

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Shopping Cheap etiquette:

General TAKE ONLY WHAT YOU NEED. ACCEPT "NO" AS A COMPLETE ANSWER. UNDERSTAND TIME IS A PRIVILEGE. KEEP SETS TOGETHER.

At the Thrift Store Don't hide things. You might be able to get bulk discounts if you ask politely. (I bought $40 worth of books for $20). Keep track of discount days. Check the Thrift Store first, so they can keep donations moving. On Marketplace or Classifieds Keep an eye out for scam listings. Read descriptions closely for any weirdness. Tell a friend where you'll be if picking up in an unfamiliar area. Respond to messages in a timely manner.

At the Flea Market Expect to rummage. Get to know the sellers. Learn to recognize rip-offs. Only try to haggle if you know what the item is worth. Keep sets together. If you don't need all of it, don't buy it.

At an Estate Sale or Auction Be respectful of the previous homeowners. Don't try to haggle down your bid after purchase. If you buy it on accident, you still have to pick it up. Don't push pickup times. Take a chance on the $5 piles.

Garage Sale Haggling is usually expected. Don't park in anyone's way. Be friendly. Don't comment on people's property or items. Be neighborly.

At the Farmer's Market Make conversation, get to know people. Don't try to come to a booth while they are packing or setting up. Don't avoid imperfect food. Bring reusable bags and jars. Learn meat and veggie lingo. Avoid the resellers. They take up booth space from farmers.

At the Antique Store Don't swap price labels. Don't hide things for later. Expect rummaging. The staff doesn't know what's in the store. Understand different booths price differently. If you break it, you buy it. If the sign says "do not touch" don't touch it. Ask for help moving furniture or unlocking cases.

Shopping Online Shop online last. Always review who you buy from reasonably. Triple check the description. Don't complain about something you were warned about. Contact the seller with questions. Double check for "local pickup" listings.

Foraging food Leave only footprints. I've seen so much trash from foragers. If you can, grow it, don't forage it. Go for invasive edibles first. Don't forage in protected woods. Always leave some behind. Don't resell foraged food. Only. Take. What. You. Need.

#secondhand #thrift store #garage sale #rummage sale #antiquing #foraging #online auctions #estate sale

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doctordeathawaits · 2 months ago

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INFO - LIST FOR TRANSABLED AID ACCESS

A list of discreet access of assistive aids , ways to hide assistive aids , and euphoria inducing replacements .

Where to get assistive aids ?

01 , An obvious choice would be online shopping , although discreet shopping can be a bit difficult . Buying many things at once so you get a big / couple of packages could be a way to not turn any eyes , especially now that the holidays are coming up . " But I live with people who have the tendency of opening my packages " , there are a couple of options of what you can do - use a p.o box or locker service ( ex: amazon locker will send you an email with pickup instructions ) , choosing a specific delivery time of when you are only home / you have time to be the first one to pick it up ( tip : have delivery notifications on so you can be the first one to receive it ) , have delivery instructions to specify where to put the package ( ex : behind a pot plant , under the steps , etc ) , have it delivered to your friends / work . " But big shopping sites aren't safe for me " , Facebook Marketplace and Craigslist could be a better option for you , may be also safer as you can request the person selling you the item to make it discreet / can also be on the cheaper end , as they tend to be used . It can also be safer on the end of simply picking it up , making it so that there isn't any sort of electronic transaction that can be seen on a bank / phone receipt . 02 , Thrifted / Yard sales are also a good option - not only is it generally more discreet , allowing you to take it home by simply putting it in your bag without any other notice , but it's also generally cheaper , seeing that often times its used items still in a somewhat good condition . " What / where do I look for ? " , I would often suggest Goodwill , as they tend to have a wider range of mobility aids . You can also find them at your local small shops - try calling ahead and asking if they have anything , as they mostly will have more time to look through their storage . " How do I know it's worth it ? " , shopping out is a greater option as you can test out if the aid is good for you . When shopping for aids , test if they are sturdy , if they are the right size for you / there is any ability to diy fix it to your measurements , and how you would be able to put it away / hide it .

When it comes to what sort of aid is the most discreet : Canes : foldable canes are the most discreet , they are compact and are able to be carried in a bag . Double use canes , such as umbrella canes , are also discreet in the sense of being able to play it off as just an umbrella . Rollator : also good to consider a foldable rollators / walkers , ones that also have a seat can be passed off as just portable seats . Wheelchairs : Wheelchairs , unless you live in a spacious area without any judging eyes , are hard to turn discreet . While folding wheelchairs are a thing , plus lightweight ones - like most wheelchairs , they are expensive , and often are badly fitted / uncomfortable . ++ temporary replacements are a better option . Hearing Aids : Hearing Aids kept in their case can very easily be passed out as to be wireless earbuds / there are many hearing aids that resemble simple ear buds. Although , Hearing Aids bought online aren't the most reliable , and may be even dangerous - so temporary / thrifted replacement is a better option .

Where do I hide my aids if I am in an unsafe environment ?

While hiding things from the people you live with can be draining , it is still suggested for your safety .

01 , Folding Aids - Any aid that is able to be neatly folded and easily stored is the best when it comes to hiding . Placing them in bags in also the best , as you are able to take them out once you leave your place . Another way would be having a designated spot outside your place , where you can easily access it once you are out . More ways of hiding them : in drawers , unused umbrella holders , under your mattress , in coat hoodies , old shoe boxes .

02 , Aids with Wheels - While trickier , definitely able . The biggest suggestion is to have folding versions . You can fold them and store in the back of your closet along the wall . You can put it on the frame of your bed and put a mattress over it . If you have a rug , putting it specifically near / under your bed , and then the aid right under the rub can also be an option . If you have a dresser , sliding it between the wall and the dresser's side can help . On top of closets can also be good . When needing to store it for outside use , big portfolios could fit them . 03 , Hearing Aids - Probably the easiest to hide as they resemble ear buds . Although getting custom / decorated cases can be good for disguising them . Nonetheless , if needed , hiding them in small pockets of backpacks , coat pockets , pencil cases can be extra security . " What if I immediately need to hide something for my safety ? " , when opening your drawer - look past the drawer / take it out , you will see that there is room on the inside of the frame , even with the drawers fully closed . You can throw any smaller sized aid in that space , and then simply take out the drawers to take it back when ready . Another way for more bigger aids - take out all of the drawers from a dresser , put the aid inside , then put the drawers back in . If the back of your dresser is a softer material that's able to be cut , cut a ⊏ shape so that it creates a flap , put your aid in and tape the flap , put your dresser back up on the wall - the flap is an easier access than taking out all drawers . Although if you feel like you are in immediate danger for having an assistive aid in your home , prioritize your safety and take the aid out of your home . You are worth more than something that you will be 100% able to get back in the future < 3

DIY - ING

Everyone should be able to have access to assistive aids - even when it comes to creating their own .

Folding Crutches . ( need to already have simple crutches ) Cane out of yardsticks . ++ easier , You can make a cane by taking hard pvc pipe , sealing the bottom + adding a stopper ( shaped rubber or foam ) , while at the top you cut out to sides of a handle - a top and bottom , glue it with hot glue and attach it.

While it may not be as sturdy - it's still a good alternative .

More affordable assistive aid shopping :

essentailaids.com , affordable canes / crutches / walkers - lots of accessories , has wheelchairs too .

mobilityshop.co.uk , also affordable AND a huge range , so you have some options . Also offers accessories and some more simpler accessibility aids .

argos.co.uk , on the more pricier end yet still quite affordable , also offers joints support and braces .

abilitysuperstore.com , while not as affordable as other sites , still has a pretty decent price range - but has way more options to offer .

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ahoycaptainautumn · 1 year ago

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Fated Mates Part 3

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

Astarion learns more on vampiric mates while you do odd jobs in town. Scraping up enough money your merry gang gets to rest well tonight. Though there’s only one problem, there’s only one bed.

It took another two days before your merry band finally made it to the first town. More hours of Gale’s snores and sleep talking of magical items. Or the way Karlach randomly set fire to something now twice in her sleep. Wyll played some tune non stop on a ukulele you swear just to annoy you. Not to mention the bickering and fighting when they were awake. After getting no sleep you demanded to the group that you would all pitch in and do some odd jobs to afford a stay at a tavern for a night. Anything to give you a chance at relaxation and a soft mattress. Everyone agreed to meet at the town square at the beginning of sundown. The hours before that were up to each entirely.

You first went into the town square in hopes of finding someone to offer you an easy quest for a fee. Perusing the marketplace you find a dressmaker eager to find someone for help.

“My my my! You’re perfect for the job! I was just in need of some help, thank the Gods! I need you to run to this store and grab the fabric on hold for Marteen, then meet me at my shop after the market closes.” He hands you a wrinkled piece of paper with the name of the shop on it. You nod your thanks and head out to said shop.

Astarion immediately abandoned the idea of doing some side quest and instead goes to find the local bookkeeper. The town was quaint in size but he hoped large enough to have some of a selection on what he was looking for. 200 years as a vampire and still his knowledge of vampirism was slim to none. Most of it from passing mouths. Fellow spawn were more than likely in his similar predicament and just as naive to the ways of the vampire world. Anyone higher on the food chain wasn’t keen on educating. Here and there in his travels for prey he heard whispers of things. Knowledge of vampire mates was mostly rumor, common gossip with no real evidence. Astarion had only met one other vampire to have met his mate. At the time the bond seemed weak to him. A cause for a future exploitation. A bother. He never believed himself to be plagued with such nonsense and had not thought to ask more of it. Astarion made his way up the old brick library steps and into the establishment. Years of neglect were evident in every crevice of the place. Spiderwebs littered every corner and shelves of books were caked with years of dust. Astarion tried his best to hide his disgust and made his way to the front desk. An old human woman sat slouched in her chair dozing off. Astarion cleared his throat, waking the woman. She fixed her overly large glasses before squinting up at Astarion. He gives his most award winning smile in return.

“How can I help you stranger?” She croaks.

“I was wondering if you had anything on a special type of creature? A vampire perhaps?” Astarion asks nicely. Her bushy brows furrow in confusion.

“Sorry, things of that nature need special clearance given by the governor. Something about too many impressionable kids trying to bite one another.” She waves her hand away as she finishes talking. She goes to turn away from him as Astarions hand darts across the desk. His thumb and forefinger caress the old woman’s chin as he gently turns her head back to him. Astarion leans close, breath mingling with the librarians. With his best bedroom eyes Astarion pleads once again.

“Please dear? I swear I shan’t be more than a moment.” The woman’s face lights up beet red as she flusters under his touch.

“I mean- I- well I mean- if if if you really won’t be more than a second than I guess it’s okay.” She stutters out.

“Perfect. Just point me in the direction, love.” Astarion purrs. The woman scuffles from behind her desk and grabs a set of keys from her pocket. Astarion follows as she leads him further into the library towards an old vault door. With a turn of a key she guides him to the shelving labeled V.

“Please don’t be long, my boss will be around any moment!” She giggles behind her wrinkled hand. Her blush still evident as she walks away. Astarions face drops back to a resting neutral once she’s out of sight and he makes his way through the novels. There are only a few books pertaining to vampires. His fingers slide over titles of “How to Properly Slay a Vampire” and “Vampire Bites for Medical Use”. None contain anything about mates. A growl of frustration leaves him before he’s manically ripping through books across the shelves. Books and scrolls fly through the air before Astarions rage stops in its tracks. Mid throw Astarion reads the title of the small book in his hand. “Mates in Five Different Species: Fate Driven Partnership”. Astarion just about rips the book open before he hears the patter of the woman’s footsteps coming closer. He rushes out the door and slams it behind him. The woman jumps at his sudden movements just outside the chambers.

“You have been so lovely, thank you. I must go, good day!” Astarion shouts over his shoulder before dashing outside. The woman’s shriek at his mess is the last he hears as he makes for the door and rounds the corner. Finding a secluded alleyway, Astarion makes himself comfortable on top of a wooden crate and cracks open the book.

Vampiric Mates:

Vampire mating is a rarity within the species. Only about an average of 31% of vampires have mates. Of that 31% only 3% of their mates were non-vampire in manner. Courtship of mates in vampires comes within three stages: sight, taste, consummation. The beginnings of the mating correspond with the first mutual stare between the partners. Mating is then felt in its entirety with a touch of either lips or genitalia. Finally, the mate bond is accepted for eternity with consummation of the partnership.

Astarions eyebrows shoot up as he reads. He had already completed two damned steps without even realizing.

Though the “feeling” of a mate may differ slightly from vampire to vampire, similarities are shown throughout each recorded mating. Feelings of a something similar to a cord “tightening” is usually the most common sign. Feelings of falling, fainting or loss of emotions momentarily have also been recorded. It is believed to be innate to each vampire to recognize a mate once seen.

Astarion thinks back to the shared bargain kiss you had made a few nights earlier. The feeling of a band wrapping and tightening in his core. The way he felt his stomach drop. He had thought himself nauseous from not drinking enough but in reality he knew he was denying it. Denying the feeling he felt with that first look. Something so ingrained biologically he couldn’t shoo it away. He flips to the section labeled “Vampire Mates: Other Species Mate”.

Mates of a vampire not already afflicted with vampirism upon meeting may be at a disadvantage. Though similar feelings may be present they will not be as strong as they are for the vampire mate. The mate also may not feel the same feelings of possessiveness and aching as the vampire mate will. Non vampire mates may not inherently realize what has happened without further education.

Astarion reads the last sentence several times over. You didn’t even know. He could continue on this little adventure and you would never be the wiser of what was unfolding between the two of you. A large part of Astarion was glad, gleeful even, to not have to worry about this further. But a small, quiet and forgotten part of his brain felt remorse at the thought. Astarion was about to continue to read through the entire section before he noticed the beginnings of the sunset. Realizing he would be meeting back with your party shortly, Astarion leaps from his seat on the crate and moves through the alleyways. He knows if he shows up empty handed you won’t let him hear the end of it. He knows your still deciding on whether or not you want to plant your stake right into his heart anyhow. Moving through side streets and back alleys Astarion moves with grace between drunks and gamblers. Swift and nimble, his hands dip into their pockets and empty them of any useful change. With a bit of money to his name, Astarion takes a main road back to the square. Though an image to his right stops him in his tracks, you.

A bit earlier -

Fabrics in hand, you huff down the street to Marteens shop. The fabric store was on the very outskirts of town. Nothing more than an old witch with a spindle, calling it a shop was a bit excessive. Though the lady was kind enough, you spent far too much time to get there as well as listen to the old woman gab as she got your order together. You finally step up to Marteen’s Dress Shop and softly knock on the door. Large floor to ceiling windows show the interior from the front. Mannequins dressed in beautiful floor length gowns adorn the left and right side. A small podium sits in the middle awaiting a blushing bride to try on her future gown. Marteen opens the door and beams at you.

“Please come in, come in!” He waves you in. He helps unload the several bits of fabric from your grasp. Luxurious rolls of dark blood red fabric, black lace, and golden trimmings leave your hands. You help bring everything else into the shop. Marteen unloads the rolls onto a long table next to the front podium. You stand next to him admiring the cloths.

“It really is beautiful.” You whisper, more to the fabrics than the man. He smiles at you as he grabs a mostly made dress from his back room. The same fabric is made into a long gown in his arms. A tight black bodice corsets the top as gold accents the sides. Crimson fabric layers on top of eachother at the bottom as it bellows out into a sweep gown.

“Before you go, could I ask you one more job? I’ll throw in a few extra coin!” Marteen asks.

“Sure, what can I get you next?” You ask.

“This dress, it’s for my daughter. It’s nearly complete save the sleeves and a bit of patching in the back. You look about her size, mind being my model? I’d ask her, but it’s a bit of a surprise.” You really hadn’t expected that. It had been a very very long time since you worn something so exquisite. Back before your parents had been murdered. Back when your father threw elegant balls for nothing more than to fill the manor with good company and better wine. Back before life became what it is. You shake the thought before they take hold.

“Sure why not.” You shrug.

Cinched into the velvet fabric feels like a dream against your skin. Marteen expertly sewed beautiful bell bottom sleeves with black lace endings onto each arm. Gold is hemmed in the sides to accentuate your curves. Flowing black ribbon ties in the bodice tightly. Marteen smiles broadly, proud of himself. You do a small twirl at his command and watch the fabric flow with your movements. You can’t help the giggle that takes over you as you sway.

“It’s perfect! Absolutely perfect!” Marteen glows.

“It is! It’s absolutely perfe-“ your words die half way through your throat when through the front glass you see a gawking Astarion. Shame and anger sweep over your momentary glee. You clench your hands and jaw as you stare him down. A smug look takes over his face as he watches you. Marteen comes and looks over your shoulder.

“Oh, is that your betrothed?” He asks innocently. You can’t help the sarcastic laugh that leaves your lips.

“As if! Never in a million lifetimes.” You reply coldly, eyes narrowing. Marteen gives you a puzzled look.

“By the way he looks at you in that dress, I would have thought otherwise.” Marteen tosses over his shoulder.

—

Astarion had good intentions, brilliant and easy intentions. Seduce you, con you, but never fall for you. To overcome the illness of being mated. He was determined, arrogant even in his belief that this mating was nothing more than a silly joke from the universe. He could get over a few fleeting feelings, he had endured much worse in centuries of slavery and solitude. But those resolutions all but melt away at the sight of you. He watches you twirl in a dress fit for a vampiric queen. Blood red accentuating your body, long fabric flowing with your movements. An easy smile gracing your lips. That familiar coil in his chest begged his attention once again. An ache fills his long canines to sink into the soft nape of your neck. All he could do was stare at your form, the way your lips looked so mesmerizing in that easy smile. An animalistic urge shook him with the thought that that smile should be for him, not some gown maker. The thought vanished as quickly as it comes as you find his stare and match it with a look that could kill. Gods, this was going to be harder than he thought.

Redressed, you collect your payment and meet Astarion out in the front of the shop. He gives you a fake saddened look.

“Here I was out doing honest work and you’re trying on gowns. Really, (y/n) you outta be ashamed.” He tuts at you. You wag your finger in his face.

“I was doing work blood sucker! Besides, there isn’t a way in the 9 realms of hell you did any honest work.” You accuse him. At your words Astarion pulls the money he had collected from his pocket. Your finger stops mid wag as you look at the coins in his hand.

“Now now now, nothing to say little killer? What will the others think when I tell them?” Astarion muses. He starts to make his way towards the center of town. It takes you a moment to catch up with him.

“You are not to tell them anything! Do you hear me, or so help me-“ you threaten.

“Or what, drive a stake through my heart? Last time you tried that you ended up kissing me. Really you need to learn better threats.” Astarion teases. You swear you see red. You just about open your mouth before Astarions face comes smack dab in front of yours.

“Besides dear, we both know you need me more than you want to kill me.” He whispers to you. You stare him down fighting the urge to hit him with all your strength. All it does is make his cocky smile grow bigger. An awkward throat clearing brings the two of you apart as Gale stands in front of you.

“Hmm well if you’re all done with your lover's quarrel, we were going to put our money together.” You want to argue that a lovers quarrel was very very far from the truth but you instead take role. Counting the money together you think you have enough for all of you to grab a bunk for the night. You had spotted an inn earlier and lead the group towards it.

The inn was one of the larger buildings in the area. It hosted a tavern on its first floor, home to beer drinking and dinner. The next two stories were dedicated to rentals. Thankfully, there was just enough space for two to a room with a small bed for each. Everyone argued who was going to bunk with you. Given your earlier appearances everyone had already voted you and Astarion to a room. You just about lost your head in front of the kind old inn woman.

“Come on, the lovers can share a romantic evening together!” Karlach teased.

“There is no lovers and there will be no romance!” You seethe.

“Honestly, I mean Gods knows I can do better.” Astarion chimes in.

“Now what is that suppose to mean-“ you turn your attention to the white haired Vampire. He raises his hands in mock defense.

“Aw the lovers are fighting again.” Shadowheart replies. The old woman behind the desk gives a small chuckle.

“Oh deary, I completely understand. You two need a special room. Here darling, on the house. Last door on the right.” The woman gives a set of keys over to you. You thank her for her understanding and set off in the direction she gave you. Astarion is on your heels as you ascend to the rental rooms on the third floor. The rest get together with their designated partner for the night and set off to their rooms for the night. You set the key to the lock and turn it.

“I hope you know I’ll be getting the largest bed, beauty sleep needed and all.” Astarion quips. You don’t have the function to respond as you peer into the room. The room is massive. There’s a beautiful fainting couch overlooking large windows peering into the valley below. Velvet curtains hang in the windows. A fire roars off to the left corner in a stone fireplace. A plush bear rug lines the middle of the space. And right there, dead center, is only one large king bed.

Part one here

Part four here

#smut #reader insert #astarion #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bd3 #mates #baldurs gate wyll #baldurs gate gale #one bed trope #soul mates #balders gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3

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