#and all because of SAPPY VAMPIRES AND THEIR SAPPY FEELINGS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bunnys-kisses · 1 month

Text

trust - astarion ancunin

pairing: astarion ancunin x fem!reader rating: 18+ tags: pwp, smut, outdoor sex, intimacy & love, missionary, sappy & sweet

Oh how times had changed. Astarion was a new man, more of a man than he was for the past two hundred years. He was no longer a captive to a sadistic vampire master who only saw Astarion as a means to capture prey.

And it all changed because the vampire spawn made the acquaintance of a young traveller. If Astarion had a bit more malice in his heart he would've killed you or at least tried. But you showed him a kindness that he didn't understand at first.

'Why me?' He'd often think to himself when you proved that there was no malicious intent with your actions. If he wanted to be free from the curse of a spawn, then you'd help him with his goal. It took him a while to get adjusted to the freedom.

But Astarion was a curious man. The way a moth is curious when nearing a flame. He wondered if he'd get burned, or worse, fully disintegrated. Dust from your simple touch.

“I want you.” He said softly one night, his voice low in your ear, “Will you join me tonight?” His slender fingers caught strands of your hair. It was an old seduction tactic, but it wasn't to find food for his master. It was to indulge in passion for himself.

You looked over to him. Your eyes met his, you were captivated by the red of his eyes. You could only describe them as rubies, but you knew they held a lot of heartbreak. Only one look at his back gave you all the answers you needed.

“Astarion.” You replied, “Do you want me to join you?”You fully turned around. There was a slight height difference between you two so you had to tilt your head to look at him, “Do you want me, or do you want to feed?”

He frowned, “Of course I want you, why wouldn't I?” He leaned in closer, “I want to know what our party leader tastes like. You freed me of my strings, darling. I am no puppet to no master. If I want you, it's of my own free will.” His expression softened.

You reached for him and touched his face. His skin was cool and soft. Part of you expected it to be like marble the way his features were carved. Your gaze quickly dropped to his lips before you made eye contact once more. You dragged your touch down to his chest and placed your hand over where his heart was.

If it was still beating you wondered if it would be racing. Questions of Astarion's mortal place died on your tongue, bringing up the past would only ruin the mood.

Just as Astarion was curious about you, you were curious about him. A high elf turned vampire, a magistrate turned spawn. A creature of the night with an insatiable lust for blood. So many questions yet so little answers.

“Tell me again you want me.” You said.

He leaned closer, he crowded into your space as he said softly, “I want you. I want all of you, darling. I want to know what you feel like inside and out. I wish to devour you whole.” He pulled away, his hand took yours, “Is that enough convincing?“

You frowned, ”I am trusting you, Astarion.“

He chuckled, ”That's the first I've ever heard that. I don't think anyone has ever trusted me.“ He took your other hand, his fingers locked with yours, ”This will be exciting then, Trust.“ You could see the hint of a smile on his lips. You were inclined to smile back.

You gave him his freedom. You ripped the chains from him and gave him the choice to determine his own life. You could not heal his vampirism, but you could care for him. Maybe make him believe he wasn't a monster.

Trust. There was a nice ring to it. Trust between two willing parties and as he led you through the thick of the woods, you were more than willing to see how deep the trust ran.

The moon hung heavy in the sky as if it was threatening to drop on the earth. It cast a light across the land as you stepped out from the woods and into a clearing.

You held his hand tighter when you heard the call of an owl from the top of one of the trees.

”I'm certain an owl won't hurt you, darling.“ He led you to behind a grand rock, ”If It does, however. I'll slit its throat.“ His smile grew before he took you by the face and pulled you in for a tight kiss.

You tensed for a moment, your eyes widened before you relaxed into his touch and melted into the kiss. You held onto his arms and further the kiss. You could hear your heart racing in your ears. This was a strange feeling.

You had been intimate with men before. You were no stranger to their anatomy. But there was something enthralling about Astarion that you couldn't put into words. He was unlike any other being you had known.

He shuddered against your kiss before he pulled away, his breathing was a tad heavier. He sank with you down to the grass. The boulder obscured you both from viewing. It allowed you a little more privacy.

No owls had to see what you two were about to do.

”I've become addicted to you, my dear. I had been in a cage for so long and you freed me without a second thought.“ He took your face in his hands and he gazed down at you, ”You could've easily made me your slave. But instead you are more than willing to put a stake through the heart of my master. We have killed for each other and quite frankly, I'll continue to kill anyone who gets in our way.“

You wrapped your arms around him delicately, ”I want you to be a free man, Astarion. Even if I want to, I could never tame you. It would be like taming the great North Star, it's impossible.“

He chuckled softly, ”Getting soft on me now, aren't we?“ He tried not to feel the tug in his chest from your kind words. Maybe it was a desire to be in control and not collapse from the weight of your kind words.

You moved his hands away from your face and you held both of them to your eye level. You kissed his cold knuckles, all of his skin was smooth and soft. He hadn't aged a day in over two hundred years. You closed your eyes, ”You are the brightest star I can see.“ You opened them once more to meet his gaze, ”I would follow you to the pit of hell if it meant being by your side.“

Astarion looked at you, with minor shock across his face. He turned his head briefly to compose himself before he looked back to you, ”I think you'll be leading me to hell, darling. But it shall be much warmer with you by my side.“

You two kissed once more. Slowly you were stripped of your clothes. You parted so he could get your armour off of you along with the clothes underneath. Soon your items laid around you. You pressed your bare chest up against the front of his shirt.

The softness of the material tickled your breasts and paired with the cool air, your nipples grew hard. You exhaled deeply as you propped yourself up against the rock. You could feel the heat lingering in your face.

You could feel the heat intensify as he began to strip himself. You had seen Astarion nude before, you have seen all of your members nude at one point or another. It was the reality of being so close together. But under the pale moonlight, he looked less like a monster and more like a divine being.

Carved from the highest quality marble, the lines of his body enticed you. You swallowed as your eyes reached his hardened cock. Your hands dug into the green grass under you. It was impressive, sizable but not intimidating. To see it that close was far different than seeing it from a distance as he bathed in the river.

He noticed your gaze and reached down to touch the top of your head. His hand combed through your hair as he said, ”No need to feed my ego, darling. I know what you're going to say.“

You looked up to his face and straightened up, ”I didn't say anything.“

He laughed, ”You don't have to, I can see it in the lines of your forehead.“ He rubbed his thumb against the creases to smooth them out, ”I guess you want me as much as I want you.“

”I want you.“ You confirmed.

He got down to the ground quickly and encroached on your space once more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, mindful of the scars on his back. The kiss you shared was more heated then the previous ones.

The time for affection was over as lust emerged. It heated your body as you both laid in the grass. His hands explored your body. He ran fingers across your own scars. He felt every curve that you possessed, he felt the moles and the raised scars from your dedication to training. You heard him hiss into the kiss as he grew more aroused by the feeling of you so close to him.

In over two hundred years he never had the fortune of a lover like you.

He laid you out on the grass, he gazed down at you. He kept himself up as he dug his hands in the grass under you. He took a moment to admire you. He had seen many mortal nude during his time on this planet. But there was a connection between you two that he couldn't deny. It wasn't sex for the sake of a meal. It was sex built on a foundation of trust.

For the first time in a long time, Astarion trusted you. In his eyes you could do no wrong.

If he was a star, then you were the angel that hung him up in the night sky.

”My darling." He said softly as he grabbed you by the waist and rested himself on his heels. His cock stood at full attention as he rubbed it up against your cunt.

You covered your face with his hands, “Astarion.”

“Don't hide yourself from me. I want to see how I make you feel.“ He replied as he reached to your face and pulled away your hands, ”Don't make me pin them down.“

You swallowed, ”You don't have to."

"Good.“ He replied softly. He brushed his cock up against your wet slit. He exhaled sharply from the feeling. It made his cock twitch with excitement. He soon guided his cock into your sweet sex.

He tried to pace himself so as to not cause you discomfort. He kept his eyes on you for any signs of pain as he sank further into you. His jaw tensed as he felt the warmth of lust spread from his gut. Soon he had every last centimetre inside of you.

You had taken him so well. He leaned down to pull you into a tight kiss, his hands were back on your hips as to guide them up and down his cock. You let out a high pitched noise that was muffled by his lips on yours.

”You feel divine, darling.“

”Shit, Astarion.“ You replied. Your heart drummed in your chest, your breathing was heavy as you laid in the soft grass. When he thrusted up into you it felt like his cock was pushing your insides up into your throat or maybe it was your heart trying to make a quick escape from the amount of pleasure you felt through your body.

You'd dare to say that your intimate encounter was romantic. Two bodies together in the depths of lust. He leaned over you and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. In an effort to keep both of you quiet as you rutted like animals.

He played with your breasts as you tighten your legs around his waist. The sounds of your love making filled the open night air. You were thankful that you were far enough away from camp that there wouldn't be any curious members trying to seek you two out.

As if Astarion wasn't going to let the others know in his own sly way. Especially in front of Gale, who he thought had his eye on you. The vampire could have a jealous streak run through him like a splash of light in a dark sky.

Your hands roamed his shoulders, your fingers dipped low enough to touch the scars on his back. He melted into your touch, a sign of comfort towards your hands on him.

When he broke the kiss, he continued to thrust inside of you.. His eyes met yours once more, ”You look lovely under me.“

You reached out for him and held his face as you moved in time with his thrusts. You replied, ”I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.“

”Good.“ He said, 'Because I have no intention of letting you under another man or woman. For as long as your heart beats, you will be mine.”

You leaned up to kiss him on the nose. It was so intimate as you replied, “That sounds good to me.” Then you two kissed once more as you felt yourself nearing climax.

Hands roamed, bodies moved. Lust filled the night air as the two of you made love under the moonlight. A life with the vampire didn't seem so horrible. You tightened your legs around him as he rocked back and forth against you.

Your heart fluttered at the feeling of intimacy between you two. Trust was all you could think of. It was the adhesive that kept you two together, that and an undying, unwavering commitment to one another.

Astarion, the vampire and you, the mortal, rutted against one another in the dead of night. You gripped onto his shoulders as the intense feeling of climax flooded your bloodstream and made you light headed.

You yearned for the release. You wanted to orgasm on his cock. You could feel the grass stick to your sweaty back as the two of you moved together. The gentle sounds between you two as the urge became stronger.

You were no longer alone in these travels. You didn't only have a party to rely on, but also a vampiric lover who wanted nothing more than to devour you. You were his; mind, body and soul. But he too was yours in the same way.

Matched in wits and skill. Fighters till the end. The thought excited you. What would become of your future?

With another searing kiss, you both climaxed in each other's arms. You clawed your nails down his arms as his grip bruised your hips. With a final thrust, he finished inside of you. He marked you as his, and the thought made his body run hot.

When he pulled away, he looked down at you. He said with a smile, ”Forever mine.“ Before he pulled out of you and laid beside you in the grass.

Your breathing was laboured as you laid next to him. You could feel his cum stick to your inner thigh as he spooned you. You held his hand as he held you by the middle.

His lips grazed at your neck. He sighed with content, ”I could turn you tonight and we'd be together until the sun melted the earth.”

You chuckled softly, “How about we finish our quest first. Then we can spend eternity together.”

He replied, “I can be impatient. But I will be patient for you, my love.”

You relaxed into his arms and felt your eyes grow heavy, “Good. Now let's kill Cazador.”

He chuckled, “Of course, my dear.” Then laid one last kiss onto your heated skin. He was scared at the thought of seeing his master again. But maybe, just maybe, with you by his side, he'll gain the courage to break himself fully free of the chains he carried.

If you believed he could be free, then he'll trust you and believe it himself.

#bunny writes #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion #astarion smut #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 fanfiction

281 notes · View notes

failing-to-write-again · 4 months

Note

What would it be like waking up with Shu, Reiji, or Ruki?

So sorry I didn't see this Tumblr did not send me a notification!

But thank you for the ask and I will answer all three!!!

Under the cut because my writing is long and I might be mildly suggestive but nothing explicit!

Shu

I imagine waking with Shu would feel like a Saturday morning in Winter, where the heating is on and your bed is so warm and outside it's a cool snowy light.

Rolling over and feeling the slight chill of the vampire, his chest cool but the arm you slept on warmed by your body heat.

I think Shu, as a more subtle romantic, would enjoy like sleeping naked or at least shirtless with you. While throwing perverted comments around to deflect from showing his true sappy side, yet never actually going further then running his fingers along your spine as he holds you against himself slowly heating up.

Hearing him deeply inhale and stir as he feels your movement, eyes opening slightly and smiling before nuzzling between the pillows and your hair. A grumble of protest at having been disturbed.

If it is a weekend or holiday you give in easily resettling into the peaceful feeling of simple having skin contact with someone so intimately. Shu lifting the covers to cover you more as goosebumps cover your body slightly due to his lower body temperature.

A personal head cannon is that after you began to have an actual close relationship he would have servants bring hot water bottles to your room close to bed so you didn't have to be as effected by his chill. However by morning the once warm devices are now useless, yet he's less cold after a night of having you next to him.

Eventually you may try coax him awake. As he hides himself against your neck, feeling him voice complaints in a gravelly morning voice against your skin.

"My princess is so pushy, just rest order the servants to do the stupid errands. They're yours now."

Reiji

Reiji could go one of two ways depending on the day. A busy day or a holiday. Either way I think his room would feel fresh but still warm to wake in.

On the average day Reiji wakes you either accidentally as he gets dressed and ready for the day, or with a drink and some breakfast delivered personally to your room. He claims it's to prevent your morning mood effecting the household but it is actually to just keep you to himself a moment longer even if it's while you're both busy preparing for a long day ahead.

He runs his fingers through your hair to wake you, slowly massaging your scalp. You'd be surprised that it doesn't put you deeper asleep.

On the rare days he doesn't feel the need to wake as early he's sensual and soft. Rare for someone as prim and proper as him.

It's canon from the sleeping with a vampire audios that Reiji wears silk pajamas and bed sheets with high quality mattresses. I see him ordering you matching pajamas and night dresses in similar designs to his and he secretly waits until you get yours on before changing. He refused to admit when he's sweet. He melts when you sleep in his shirt after nightly romps in the sheets.

Ever the leading partner, you wake up being spooned by him either facing him or with you back against his chest and his face buried in your hair. You used to worry about it irritating him at first until one night you felt him nuzzle against it intentionally as he smelt the shampoo you had recently used.

Like Shu I feel he would do things to motivate the temperature difference. However maybe an electric blanket or a potion that will last the entire night.

Deepest as morning voice, grainy too completely unlike his firm even tone when awake. It's a personal side only you see. And forget Shu being the lazy one when Reiji has the time to sleep in with you. The man is begging for 5 more minutes.

"My love, stay...hm? Need a drink? I left one on the nightstand. ... You can't reach it?... Cruel woman treating your lover like this."

Ruki

Ruki's room must smell like candles and new books. A nice toasty feeling to wake to.

Clingy is the best way to describe how I feel he sleeps. So scared you may slip through his fingers or leave like others before, Ruki holds you close as you sleep.

I imagine he sleeps on his stomach due to having to sleep like that for so long after he initially got the scars on his back. His arm around your waist and head turned to rest abobe your shoulder.

The exception being when he reads a book to help you sleep. You lay, head against his chest or in his lap as he sits against a pile of pillows. You wake to his head against yours and the book left open on his lap as his arms encircle you.

Ever the slight sadist, on days you need to be up faster he might lightly pinch your sides to wake you. Chuckling as you squirm and complain at the rude awakening. Kissing you forehead in apology.

During nights where he has particularly bad nightmares you may have to wake him. Holding him against your chest and brushing through his hair as you comfort him best you can. You don't know when you both nod back off but you wake the next day to him still there resting more peaceful than ever. That being said night terrors have decreased drastically since you began to share a bed.

After you both wake up properly he holds you in his lap as you discuss your plans for the day. He takes his time laying kisses along your shoulders and down your sternum, a personal good luck ritual that makes the day a little easier to begin.

"Hm... where do you think your going? I assume like me you don't want to leave my side yet. Especially with those fingers tracing along my body. How shameless."

#diabolik lovers #reiji sakamaki #reiji sakamaki x reader #shu sakamaki x reader #shu sakamaki #ruki mukami #ruki mukami x reader #diabolik lovers imagine #diabolik lovers headcanon #may have to edit later it's 1am rn

201 notes · View notes

here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

it's sweet (explicit)

genre: a fluffy lil sickfic

pairing: taehyung x reader

summary: you forgot to call out sick from your dick appointment, but he stays anyway.

word count: 4.3k

contains: no smut just fluff????? new year new me 😎 but as this is fuckbuddies to maybe-lovers and there are certainly a few references in here to sex, because of who i am as a person, it's enough that i'm tagging it explicit anyway lmao. but this is all fluff! reader has the flu, tae is a sweet sweet boi and takes care of her, it's all a bit sappy~ 🤧

A/N: happy new year!!! and a very happy belated birthday to my capricorn prince 💜 this soft little idea got stuck in my brain and wouldn't let go, and i had a lot more fun writing it than expected. plus i feel like i only wrote tae as a menace in 2022 (sorry to tae 👹) so i had to right my wrongs with this one lmao. it was a nice interlude before i jump into LDOMLT ch11 (the final chapter 😭) - i hope you all enjoy and that your 2023s are off to a pleasant start!!!

read on AO3!

~*~

You genuinely enjoy being single.

With your last relationship officially in the trash, you’ve found yourself settled into a comfortable peace. There’s no man in your life to mess up your plans, to force you to have to compromise or share anything, to suck up your energy and domestic labor like some kind of emotional vampire. You can do what you want, whenever you want, and you have a reliable rotation of both sex toys and fuckbuddies to keep you physically satisfied when the need arises.

Being single, you have come to learn, is fucking great.

Except when you get sick.

A knock at your apartment door drags you out of your DayQuil-induced slumber. You move to sit up with a sniffle before letting yourself drop back into your veritable nest of blankets on the couch, struck with the immediate recollection: it’s just the food you ordered. You’d specifically put in a request that they leave it at the door, but maybe the delivery person is just being nice and letting you know it’s there.

Except then they knock again.

And ring the doorbell.

“Jesus,” you groan to yourself, aggressively enough that you’re nearly sent into a fresh coughing fit, but you manage to choke down the spasm in your lungs as you drag yourself to standing. You cross the short distance from your couch to the front door, sure you look like death warmed over, and swing the door open.

At first, you’re certain it’s the DayQuil fucking with you.

“Taehyung?”

The corner of his mouth pulls up as he blinks sweetly at you, expressive almond eyes peeking out beneath untidy dark hair— extra fluffy today, like he’s just washed it and waltzed out of the house without any styling. His clothes tell the same story, a plain gray hoodie and joggers, creased a little like he’d just pulled them off his bedroom floor, though everything looks fresh off the runway on him.

As your eyes trail down his frame, you take in the container of ramen you ordered, held easily in one of his large hands, his long fingers hooking over the side.

His presence is typically a welcome one, particularly on Friday nights like tonight, but those are circumstances where you tend to be a little more… put together. So why is he here tonight?

“When did you start working for D—”

The food delivery service name dies on your tongue as your thoughts finally catch up with your mouth. He’s here tonight because it’s Friday, and this is what you do on Fridays. He’s here because you didn’t cancel. You’d had the thought in a drowsy half-awake state between naps, then had promptly rolled over and pressed your face into the pillow, telling yourself you’d remember to text Taehyung when you woke up.

Which of course, you did not. And so here he is, having clearly intercepted your delivery. And, it now occurs to you, having to witness how absolutely godawful you must look in your stained sweatpants, your hair surely a mess from a day spent napping on the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you mutter, quickly crossing your arms over your baggy t-shirt, suddenly very aware of the fact that you’re not wearing a bra. Why that matters when you’re standing in front of a man who regularly leaves hickeys all over your tits, you’re not sure, but in this moment it somehow feels like it does.

“Tae,” you take a step back, trying to keep him out of your germ radius. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to text you. I’m super sick, I think it’s the flu. You should go.”

He frowns a little, his eyes jumping from you down to the takeout container in his hands. “This is like, barely warm.”

That makes you smile a little despite yourself. A very Taehyung greeting.

“Yeah, well.” You roll your eyes. “I pay twice as much so it can take an hour and be cold by the time it gets here. Makes sense, right?”

His dazzling smile at your sarcastic remark only heightens your own self-consciousness, and you quickly extend a hand for the container.

“Sorry to make you come all this way. Hopefully next week I’ll be back to normal.”

Taehyung nods, yet makes no move to hand over the soup he’s currently holding hostage. “You should rest. Let me heat it up for you.”

You can’t help but wonder what he expects to happen when he crosses the threshold, and that makes you heave a sigh, then quickly bury the cough that chases after it into the crook of your elbow.

Thankfully your voice doesn’t give out when you manage to answer him. “I’m serious, Tae. I’m not—” you pause, considering how to phrase it: desperate to be railed? “—you know, the way I usually am on Fridays. Nothing’s gonna happen tonight. Except maybe you’ll get sick.”

He shrugs, like there are worse things. “I get it. But you shouldn’t be alone.”

At least he’s been sufficiently warned, you think to yourself, and then you relent, leaving the front door of your apartment swung wide as you step back across the living room to promptly collapse onto the couch again. You bury your face in the blankets with a muffled groan as you hear Taehyung shut the door behind him, then make his way into the kitchen.

As is typical with any man that enters your kitchen, you expect to have to walk Taehyung step-by-step through how to do everything. But, to your surprise, he asks no questions: he seems to find a good-sized pot and figure out how to work the stove all on his own, and you can hear him humming softly to himself as he goes.

Truly a credit to the male species, you think to yourself with a bitter laugh.

You collapse back against the cushions, a little too aware of the fuckbuddy in your kitchen to be able to drift off to sleep entirely. Nevertheless, you still find yourself slipping into a haze, your eyes dropping shut just to snap open again at the tap of a bowl being set down on the coffee table in front of you.

Your eyes widen as you sit up and stare down at your ramen, only to find two halves of a soft-boiled egg staring back up at you. You’d ordered from your favorite place in the city, which is easily the best ramen you’ve had in your life, but you know those fuckers charge extra for an egg. Which is why your cheap ass never orders one.

But here one is. So that means…

Taehyung drops down onto the couch next to you before you can even finish compiling the thought in your brain, but he must be able to read the look on your face. “Oh, do you not like eggs?”

“I— no,” you answer quickly. “I mean yes. I mean, I like them, I just… Thank you.”

You glance up in time to see him shrug, his mouth twisting a little, like he’s suddenly made shy by his own kindness. “Gotta get your protein in,” he offers casually, and you laugh over the steam rising up from your bowl.

He keeps a tentative cushion’s distance away from you, but you can feel his eyes watching as you take your first sip of the rich, warm broth. While you slurp it down, you tell yourself not to get greedy with Taehyung’s time: you expect this will be it, that with his act of kindness done for the day, he’ll get to his feet and be on his way. As soon as your front door slams shut behind him, he’ll probably be pulling up his text messages with one of the many other options that must be available to him.

You try to ignore the way that thought makes your stomach twist, to just eat your damn soup and not think about it. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

But to your surprise, Taehyung leans forward and snatches the TV remote off your coffee table with a triumphant sigh before slumping back against the couch, like he’s settling in. “Do you wanna watch something?”

You shake your head as you take another sip before answering. “You really don’t have to stay, Tae. I can appreciate that I’m not a lot of fun to be around tonight. And obviously you didn’t come here to watch me eat ramen.”

Already starting to scroll through your streaming services, Taehyung runs his free hand through his hair with a knowing, slightly horny smile. “Depends on what you mean by eat ramen.”

You nearly choke on a noodle, but he’s otherwise distracted, mouth dropping open a little as he clicks into one of the options.

“Oh, I know what we can watch.”

When he pulls up A Charlie Brown Christmas and promptly presses play, you can’t help smirking. “Christmas? You’re, what, five days late?”

Taehyung’s mouth opens again, like he’s going to say something, and then he just smiles that same self-conscious smile. “Ah, I just like the music.”

His long fingers splay out in front of him, miming along to the opening melody while he adopts the faux-cool expression of a jazz pianist. You hide a giggle in another sip of broth, and he quickly shrugs the impression off, crossing his arms over his chest as if to keep his limbs under control.

“And it’s cute,” he adds, voice halfway between shy and sentimental. “The little tree.”

It occurs to you now that you’ve never seen Taehyung so… your brain can’t find the right word. He’s just different tonight.

You nod as you slurp up a strand of noodles, and you can’t deny that he’s right as the movie plays on. It’s been years since you’ve seen it, not since you were a kid, but it’s just as enjoyable now, somehow timeless. You find yourself smiling softly as you finish your meal and settle back against the couch, tugging the blanket up to your chin.

All at once, Taehyung jumps up, and you watch dumbfounded as he silently scoops up your dishes and disappears off to the kitchen. When you hear the tap switch on, your jaw drops in sheer disbelief, and you sit up again, peeking over the back of the couch to get a glimpse of him: he’s pulled on the dishwashing gloves you keep tucked next to the sink and is making short work of not just the bowl and the pot, but the takeout container too, and your various other sick-person dishes you’d regrettably let pile up. Humming to himself along with Vince Guaraldi, like it’s something he does every day.

Your head spins as you drop back down against the cushion. What is happening? Did you take too much cold medicine?

That thought only reverberates louder in your brain when he returns, still humming the last few notes of the song. This time he chooses to settle in right beside you on the couch, as if entirely unconcerned about the contagious virus running rampant in your body— he just pulls you into his side, one arm wrapped over your shoulders, fingertips casually starting to play with the ends of your hair. Like it’s that easy.

You glance up at him, shaking your head a little, and Taehyung looks down to meet your gaze. “What?”

“This is just…” An incredulous laugh cuts off the end of your sentence. It’s hard to believe you’re looking at the same person. This can’t be the man who wraps his hand around your throat as he spits into your mouth, who will keep you in his bed for hours until you’re crying from overstimulation, who fucks you so good you can hardly walk the next day.

“I didn’t expect you to be like this,” you admit, pairing the words with a finger driven gently into Taehyung’s ribs. He squirms a little. “You’re… sweet.”

Taehyung’s lips part, and then he pauses, clearly considering how exactly to answer you. His mouth turns up soft at the corners, hesitant, as if he’s embarrassed to say what comes next. And then he says it. “You didn’t seem like you wanted sweet.”

The words settle over you, offered quietly in the low, rich tones of his voice, and as you keep gazing up at him, it strikes you: he’s not wrong. If he’d pulled this cozy domestic housewife act on you any earlier, on a normal Friday, you would’ve sent him packing without hesitation.

That thought makes you a little sad.

You tuck back in against Taehyung’s side, trying to refocus on the TV screen as you snuggle in under the blanket. Pressed close like this, you can feel the sturdy thud of his heartbeat in his chest, at a rhythm not dissimilar to yours.

“Well, I won’t tell anyone,” you breathe, and you swear you can hear him smile.

His touch lingers as the last few minutes of the movie play on: slipping from the ends of your hair to trace over the fabric of your shirt, then sliding further up to dip beneath the collar of it. The talented fingers you’ve become well-acquainted with work their magic in a new way, pressing firm circles into the muscles of your shoulders, muscles you didn’t realize were pinched so tight until he starts to work them open.

“Fuck,” you murmur, shifting a little to allow him better access as he continues. “That feels so good.” You can’t quite help the laugh that flutters out after your words; it’s certainly not the first time he’s made you say them.

There’s a small huff of breath from Taehyung beside you, and then his hand moves up to cup the back of your neck and give a gentle squeeze. It’s a comforting motion, and just arousing enough to make you sigh a note, your eyes briefly dropping shut. When they flutter open again, you realize the movie has ended, that he’s looking down at you, a knowing smirk toying at his lips.

“Don’t start,” you warn, unable to keep your voice entirely serious. “I meant what I said, I’m tapped out for the night.”

Taehyung raises his palms in the air, as if to claim his innocence, and you find yourself instantly missing the heat of his hand on your skin. “All I was thinking is that I kinda want dessert. Too tapped out for that?”

“I’ll never say no to dessert,” you admit with a soft smile. “I think I have ice cream in the freezer.”

Something glints in Taehyung’s eyes at your words. All at once he untangles himself from you and, rather than standing up and walking the long way around like a normal human, chooses instead to vault himself over the back of the couch, as if to get your freezer as fast as possible. You tip back against the cushions, momentarily overcome with laughter, and thankfully, it doesn’t trigger a cough attack.

After a second, you cocoon the blanket around yourself, then get up to follow after him, dropping unceremoniously down onto one of the barstools tucked on the far side of your kitchen island.

Taehyung glances up, clearly surprised, then continues trying drawers until he finds the silverware and retrieves two spoons.

“Just want to keep you company,” you say by way of explanation as he hands you one, and you reach down to pry off the lid of the pint of chocolate ice cream he’s set down on the counter. It’s only as you glance up again that you realize he’s grabbed something else, too, and is continuing to rummage through your cupboards. “Wait, what are you doing?”

There’s an innocent look on Taehyung’s face as he rights himself, the handle of a pan clutched in one hand. “I found something when I was looking for the ice cream. It’s my favorite. And I thought it might make you feel better, too.”

“Uh huh,” you intone, though your mouth is already starting to tick up, endeared. “A completely selfless act, I’m sure.”

“Of course it is,” he answers with an over-exaggerated wink, flipping the pan cooly in his grip. You squint at the bag as he thuds it down on the counter beside him, then sets the pan on the stove and flips on the burner beneath it.

Hotteok. You’d completely forgotten you’d even picked the bag of frozen sweet pancakes up a few weeks ago, that you had purposefully tucked them into the back of your fridge for a particularly good— or bad— day.

“Chef Kim,” you ask, feigning the tone of a journalist conducting an important interview as you fish your phone out of the pocket of your sweatpants. “Can I interest you in some background music, or do you prefer to cook in absolute silence?”

Taehyung glances back over his shoulder at you, his grin nearly too big for his face. “How about Sinatra?”

You raise one eyebrow at the admittedly unexpected suggestion. “Frank or Nancy?”

He pauses for a moment, as if considering. “Either.”

It’s only a few taps, and then Come Fly With Me is floating out of your Bluetooth speaker, and Taehyung is singing along to himself as he drops a frozen disc onto the heated pan, occasionally turning back to deliver lines to you with an extended hand.

You roll your eyes as you drag your spoon through the top layer of softening ice cream, sucking it into your mouth in an attempt to hide the grin that’s spread over your face.

By the third song you find yourself humming along too, trying not to put too much strain on your still-weak throat. The kitchen has started to smell of sweet, toasted dough as Taehyung works diligently at the stove, and he finally flips the burner off before turning back to you, a plate in each hand and a thick pancake stacked atop each plate.

“Sous chef, will you please apply the ice cream?” he asks, eyes wide and blinking as he sets the dishes down.

Quickly playing along, you nod as you begin to scoop a healthy amount onto each plate. “Yes, chef!”

“And sous chef, do you, uh… have any chocolate sauce?”

You bite back a laugh as his roleplay falls apart as quickly as it began. “It’s in the fridge.”

Taehyung promptly turns and pulls the door open, eyes searching the shelves before he finally spots the dark brown bottle and lets out a triumphant hum. He nudges the fridge shut again with his hip before striding back toward you.

“Plating is key,” he muses. You answer with an appreciative nod and a giggle when he uncaps the sauce, then leans down close to the plates, feigning intense focus as he drizzles each dollop of ice cream with stripes of chocolate.

Once his artful design is complete, he steps back, his tongue toying at the corner of his mouth as he spins one plate to admire his handiwork.

“What do you think, chef?” you tease, and he nods once, decisive.

“It’s perfect.” He glances up, shooting you a grin that knocks the breath from your lungs, and you try to collect yourself as he nudges a plate toward you, encouraging you to take a bite.

You carve your spoon through the pastry, right down the middle where it’s stuffed full of sweet brown sugar syrup. The flaky layers pull apart at the impact, warm enough that you can see steam rising off of the golden dough. You pair a small piece of pancake with a wedge of ice cream on your spoon, then bring both into your mouth at once, and the contrasting mixtures linger on your tongue: hot and cold, sticky sugar chased by rich chocolate. It’s so good that you can’t help but make a soft, appreciative noise as you press your hand to your mouth and chew.

“Do you want to know something?” Taehyung’s voice pulls your attention back, and you look up at him.

“What?”

“Today’s my birthday.”

There’s a split second where you wonder if this is another imagined scenario, and then your eyes widen as you take in the look on his face and realize he’s entirely serious.

“Wait, Taehyung, really?”

He nods once, bringing a spoonful of ice cream to his lips.

“I-I had no idea,” you stammer, suddenly feeling like an asshole. His birthday, and he’s here waiting on you hand and foot, while you haven’t so much as said a word of felicitations. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he’s waving away your apology with his spoon, then proceeding to answer around his bite of food. “It’s not like I expected you to know. I don’t really make a big deal of it.” He shrugs. “I tend to… I don't know. I get sort of melancholy this time of year. The holidays, my birthday. It’s a lot all at once. A lot of pressure. To be happy. To have everything figured out.”

Nodding slowly, you let his words fully wash over you before you respond. “I get that,” you finally murmur, working off another piece of hotteok. “Nobody ever talks about it, but I feel like birthdays are kinda weird as an adult. You have enough of them and it just starts to feel like a day, you know? Not special.”

“I usually find myself just hiding out, waiting for it to be over,” Taehyung admits.

You take a second to think back. “Yeah. I didn’t even do anything on my birthday this year.” A self-pitying laugh rises up before you can stop it. “Honestly, this whole year was such a flop. I’m glad it’s nearly done.”

Taehyung makes a face like he can’t disagree. “Hey, sometimes that’s life.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly, then reaches a palm across the table. “Can I play a song?”

“Go ahead,” you offer, pushing your phone into his hand. You scrape your spoon along your dwindling dessert, and haven’t even managed to bring the assembled bite to your mouth before the music changes— from one Frank Sinatra song to another, this one with a driving blues rhythm.

Taehyung is already on his feet, hips starting to sway. “Ah, come on. You have to dance with me.”

He’s closed the distance between you before you can even protest, his hands smoothing across the blanket still wrapped over your shoulders.

“Let me take your coat, ma’am.”

You shift off the stool and onto your feet with a smile as he unwraps the blanket from around you and tosses it toward the back of the couch, missing by at least a foot.

“Why thank you,” you tease, feigning some kind of Transatlantic lilt to your voice that makes him really laugh. “Such a gentleman.”

Taehyung turns to face you again, and then you feel his large hand pressing to the small of your back, warm even through the fabric of your shirt, and your heart stutters a little. You take his other hand in yours and let him lead, let him pull you all the way in until you can turn your head and press your cheek to the firm plane of his chest.

Frank Sinatra croons on about how you can’t let life get you down, and suddenly there’s a weight settling in the pit of your stomach.

“I feel bad, Taehyung,” you admit, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking right back down at you. “That you’re here with me tonight.”

“Why?” he asks, like he really doesn’t know.

“Because,” you shake your head. “I don’t know. There’s a million better places you could be. I can’t even give you birthday sex.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t want to,” he answers simply, then leans back, guiding you under his arm for a spin.

A little giggle bubbles up in your chest, catches on the first syllable of your reply as you twirl. “A-are you sure?”

Taehyung nods, thoughtful, when you come back to center again. “This is a good reminder that… I like taking care of people. It’s been a while since anyone’s let me.” The hand holding yours gives a gentle squeeze, and you can’t help but squeeze back.

“Well, thank you for taking care of me,” you answer softly. “You did a good job. Pretty sure I’m on the mend already.” You blink up at him through your lashes, and the way his eyes are fixed on you makes your heart squeeze, too.

It’s nearly overwhelming, taking him in like this, close enough that you can see every stray beauty mark kissed over his handsome features. Fluffy-haired, big-dicked Kim Taehyung— who would’ve thought?

Taehyung’s adam’s apple jerks in his throat as he swallows, and you feel a sudden rush of heat all over, one you don’t quite think you can blame on a fever. It hardly even occurs to you that the two of you have come to a complete standstill now, barefoot in the middle of your kitchen, Taehyung’s palm pressed to your back, the fingers of your joined hands now shifting to lace together.

“Taehyung,” you’re breathing his name before you even realize it. “Would you… want to stay here tonight? Like, sleep together, literally?”

The smile that flashes over his face is nothing short of brilliant. “Yeah, okay.”

Your voice dips a little lower, teasing, as you smile back. “I really do think I’m feeling better, so. Maybe in the morning I can take care of you, too.”

Taehyung’s fingers brush the length of your jaw, then reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you continue.

“I’ve got this spray that makes my throat totally numb, so.”

He pauses, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, but he can’t quite keep a straight face. “Fuck, why is that so sexy?”

You’re laughing against his lips when he kisses you.

#taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #bts fluff #bts x reader

2K notes · View notes

justporo · 4 months

Text

From savoury to sweet

All your friends are invited for winter festivities and you're doing your best to prepare everything for a big reunion. But a certain vampire keeps testing your patience until it ultimately snaps...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Written for the "Delicacies" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge and since I'm running this challenge I'm cheating a bit and also fill the "Holiday spirit" with this - because I guess everyone knows the feeling of feeling stretched thin when the end of the year comes around with all the joy and stress it has to offer... And sadly I don't have a sassy vampire to pull me through it *sighs* Happy holidays to you all!

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,5k ~~~

The little townhouse in Baldur’s Gate you and Astarion lived in was filled throughout with delicious smells: mulled wine, freshly baked pastries, simmering gravy. Together with everything being neatly decorated with holly, candles and more wintery decor it made for a very cosy and festive atmosphere.

Unfortunately, the comfy mood was disrupted by smells of burning and colourful curses being spat.

Gale and you had been bustling around the kitchen cooking, baking and making preparations, meanwhile Astarion sat at the long table there - one leg lazily dragged up onto the bench. He was reading something and kept stealing brandy infused cherries out of a bowl that always seemed to magically find its way back into his reach - no matter how often you moved the bowl away from him.

The wizard had come over to help you prepare a whole bunch of food. And of course there had been a very good reason behind all of this.

Somewhen when winter had rolled around and the Midwinter holidays had come closer, a thought had entered your mind and been stuck there ever since - and with that a wish.

It had been quite some time since you had seen all the other members of your little adventure group last - or friends rather because that was what they all had become. And you missed them all deeply. But fortunately there could be something done about that.

So, you had brought up the idea to Astarion to invite them over for the holiday to have a nice festive evening together.

Immediately, the vampire’s nose had scrunched up in distaste: “You’re not becoming all sappy all of a sudden, are you? I didn’t sign up for this.”

You had swatted his arm and pouted profusely, feeling a little hurt by his immediate rejection of your idea.

This had been a dream of yours for a long time: having a really fancy and enjoyable holiday festivity with someone to actually share it. Because you never had the chance to have that when you had grown up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

The closest you’d ever gotten to a holiday celebration had been sharing a stolen pie with some other urchins while you had huddled somewhere under tattered blankets, trying to escape the cold.

When you had painted that picture for Astarion (maybe purposefully laying it on thickly), his sassy attitude had immediately fallen. You had seen some of your past hurt mirrored in his red eyes. With a small sigh he had hooked his thumb on your chin and promised you to give you the holiday festivity you had always dreamt of.

“But”, he had immediately added when you had already started jumping up and down joyfully, “no one and I mean none of them will stay with us, darling. I had enough of sharing camp with all these buffoons for a lifetime - for all of immortality even.”

You had brushed off his sarcastic words quickly and had sent out letters to all your friends the following day. Answers had come in slow and sporadically since then - but that surely only meant that everyone was just very busy. Right?

But once you had started to think about what dishes you all wanted to prepare for this evening, how to get everything festive and whatnot, all these worries had quickly been forgotten. Gale had immediately been enlisted as your aid to tackle the massive task - obviously not taking no for an answer.

So there you were: a prodigy wizard and a former thief slaving away in the kitchen for almost a whole day in preparation for holiday dinner. Meanwhile a vampire was contributing nothing to the efforts - except if you counted his snide remarks (and of those he contributed many).

Every surface in the kitchen was filled with already finished dishes, loose ingredients or heaps of dirty pots, pans and utensils. Together with Gale you had prepared little filled pies as a starter, a variety of sides for the main course of different picks of meats and fish and sauces to compliment everything.

Almost all of it was done being prepped for dinner. Now only your baked dessert was missing. And of course that had been where things had went awry. Your nerves had been on edge already, stressing how everything would go. Gale had not been helping with his unhelpful-helpful commentary. And not even to mention your vampire just lounging there on the bench like a cat, making it a point to annoy you even more with his sassy manner.

And you had reached your breaking point when you had pulled a completely burnt cake from the oven, covering up the delicious other smells while a small smoke cloud had erupted in the middle of the kitchen and Astarion hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut about it.

“Oh love, I mean, I am no expert by any means, but I do think that’s a bit dark even for a dark chocolate cake,” he’d commented while he had barely even lifted his eyes from his book, one elbow propped up on the table and head placed on his hand while he popped another cherry into his mouth.

And that had also been the reason why he’d been hit with a small bun. Caused by your already thin stretched patience finally snapping you had grabbed the nearest throwable thing and had hurled it at the vampire’s head. That thing had happened to be a bunch of sweet rolls you had made as a side. Your impeccable aim had made sure that you hit your mark - and the screech you had let out had probably given it even more force.

Without even checking Astarion’s reaction you had sunk down on the bench opposite of the vampire and had buried your face in your hands while you tried to not let tears overwhelm you.

Astarion reflectively hissed and swatted the gnarly pastry away from him. But then he took in the scene and quickly realised that he had rightfully brought this onto himself.

Gale, who had taken a step back from you in caution with hands lifted defensively, threw the pale elf a sour look now while you suppressed sobs. “Incredibly supportive, Astarion, a job well done”, the wizard scolded the vampire who at least had the good grace to look ashamed of himself.

The wizard sat down beside you and started rubbing your back while he kept throwing Astarion looks. The vampire shuffled around awkwardly for a few moments, not being used to and not enjoying having to apologise.

With a sigh he finally got up and moved around the table and with a “shoo shoo” motion chased Gale out of the kitchen so he could be alone with you for a moment or two.

“Love, I’m sorry,” Astarion whispered as he sat down beside you and looped an arm around your shoulders. Immediately you let yourself fall into his touch. You really didn’t want to be mad at him. Under different circumstances you would have just laughed at his comment.

“I’m sorry I upset you with the stupid thing I said, forgive me?”, the vampire added and softly nuzzled his nose into your hair as you buried your face at his chest.

“I forgive you - sorry I threw baked goods at you”, you mumbled into his chest but you knew he had understood you when you felt the soft rumble of his laughter run through his whole body.

“It’s all good, my love. I got what I deserved and may I add: incredible aim. You’ve not lost your touch since the end of our grand adventure”, Astarion added and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You relaxed a little and just sat there with him for a few moments as you felt that your breathing slowly became normal again and some tension leaving your body. Astarion just held you.

After a while the vampire dragged over the bowl of liquor drenched fruit he’d been stealing out of. “Cherry, my sweet?”, he asked and with that made you look up again. He was holding the sticky fruit between his thumb and index and winked at you.

And for some reason that made you laugh. But when you didn’t immediately answer, Astarion shrugged his shoulders and popped the little treat in his mouth. You whacked his hand.

“No, Astarion! And stop eating those, we still need them!”, you scolded him as your partner pouted at you for being told off.

“Alright, no more cherries, but only if you agree to come with me and get some fresh air”, Astarion proposed. You wanted to protest but the vampire hushed you. “I’m sure Gale can be trusted to not burn the house down for like half an hour alone”, he continued.

You looked at him with some suspicion: “Unlike you to trust Gale with anything but walking in a straight line.”

Astarion rolled his eyes while he already got up and made to drag you along.

“Well, unusual circumstances and the like - you know”, he went on and let his free hand draw circles in the air. You just shrugged, honestly being happy to be dragged outside for a while.

“Now come, love, get your cloak - you need a break from all the sweet and savoury dishes here”, Astarion said and patted your butt for some motivation.You grinned at him: “Alright, except for that one sweet snack, my dear.”

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #bg3holidayfluffle23 #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

224 notes · View notes

sugairsstuff · 4 months

Note

may i request general relationship headcanons for both astarion and cardan greenbriar (separate) 🥺💕 i love them both sm and it’s great to find a blog that writes for both!

it’s double trouble with this pair! i’d love to give you some fuel for your fire <3 here’s some things i think about haha, i hope you enjoy!

also i kept it sfw because i wasn’t sure!

relationship headcanons

astarion ancunín and cardan greenbriar

warnings: very brief sexual mentions

(credit to @cafekitsune for the divider)

astarion ancunín 💫

🌙you and astarion share playful banter. a lot. naturally, he’s always the winner of your little battles of wits- or so he claims- but you both leave each other laughing by the end of your back and forth teasing. it’s another way for you two to flirt with each other apart from the more traditional ways.

🌙of course, your relationship doesn’t involve sexual intimacy for however long of a time, if ever, astarion needs. but that doesn’t mean you two don’t enjoy holding each other close. after the first hug you two shared, you become able to coax him into your arms time and time again late at night when the rest of your companions are sleep (because how dare they see him get all sappy and soft, of course), engulfing your gentle lover in the warmth his body lacks. neither of you need to speak, most of the time preferring to enjoy each other’s company quietly, listening to whatever idle ambience is stirring about beyond your tent’s walls- whether that be rustling bushes in a breeze, the rushing water of river or cave, or the hoot of an owl.

🌙it’s these moments that ground you both. those quiet ones, where nothing is said but you both hear what the other is trying to anyway. astarion is both an elf and a vampire, his body doesn’t need to sleep, but he still finds his eyelids growing heavy alongside yours as you two remain tangled together, his head resting against your chest as your fingers sleepily stroke those springy cotton curls atop his head. it’s only from gale’s babbling one day that astarion learns that people feel sleepy around those they feel safe around, and that thought crosses his mind a lot whenever he gazes at you from across camp.

🌙and when he’s not thinking of these sappy, heart wrenching thoughts, he’s (im)patiently waiting for you to forget whomever you are oh so busy with and come pay attention to him- especially if it’s gale. sorry gale.

🌙his eyes are almost always searching for you, too. and yours for him, as well. whether it’s him peering up from his book just to see you stride into camp after another one of your silly little heroic side quests (or murder sprees, if you’re dark urge), or in the midst of battle ensuring you’re not caught in the cross fire- and if you are, you best bet this rogue is sweeping in to give you back up. he does remember you once told him that if he had your back, you’d have his, too. astarion learned this meant a lot more than just protecting each other from enemies as his relationship with you progressed, finding that you two could lean on each other in emotional times of back-up, too. being so vulnerable started off difficult with him, but he reminds himself that you mean safety, you mean love, and you mean happiness to him- and these reminders help him show you those pieces of him he thought cazador buried long ago.

🌙we all know astarion is not shy when it comes to his words, but once you two become something real this act of his is broken down noticeably. don’t expect him to not crack a dirty joke, though, but do notice how- since having you at his side- he has less of a tendency to flaunt himself like a preening peacock, he becomes more comfortable with casual touching and non-sexual intimacy like mentioned before, and you even are able to render him speechless time to time with your kind, honest words to him.

🌙the kisses you two share are gentle and slow. kisses on the knuckles, wrists, cheeks, and nose before either one of you reach the other’s lips. they never last long, not long enough to tempt either one of you into something more, but they’re more than enough. your little butterfly kisses seem to settle themselves in your chests and beat their wings alongside your heart- and in astarion’s case, they beat in place of his.

🌙you two become nearly inseparable. while you were close when your relationship was just a friendship, now that it has evolved into something new, rare, and hell of a lot foreign you both can’t seem to get enough of each other. more often than not, when one of you is going out for some task, the other is close behind (and only the partner with the fanged teeth is dramatically complaining about having to go). as well, you notice that astarion begins to set up his tent closer to yours as your camp begins to change locations the closer to baldur’s gate the lot of you gets.

cardan greenbriar 🐍

🪷his tail subconsciously finds any available limb of yours- preferably coiling itself around your thigh, where it’s not noticeable enough to any who spares a meaningless glance in your direction but evident enough that someone properly looking at you would surely see. he would tell you it’s simply to give a message to wandering eyes, but that would be a half truth, as the subtle touch brings the prince turned king new blossoms within him- not the ones he bleeds, but rather those of comfort.

🪷 if you are a faerie, you most likely were apart of cardan’s friend group before he became a king, and knew him since longer. lounging about with him, locke, valerian, and nicasia, the young prince was disinterested in the rest and favoured bothering you. having to be around him so often made it difficult to ignore his clear attempts in getting under your skin, and so you eventually took it upon yourself to return the ‘favours’. and as you two spent more time together- time you both claimed you despised but in actuality you both sought it constantly- your relationship slowly grew into what it is now.

🪷 cardan would not love a hero, it is too late for such a character in his life. he does not need a person to peel away the walls he built around himself which have the words ‘the cruel prince’ carved into them. he’d rather love someone who instead saw what is beyond those walls, and take it selfishly for themself alone- he’d rather not share the sweeter sides of him with anyone but you, which means those walls must stay standing. he would fall in love with you for your ability to understand him, to not expect so much from the young prince, and he would fall in love not only with your virtues (as he would not love a villain, either) but also all your flaws that make you real.

🪷 perhaps that is why, if you are a human, he confuses his curiosity with disgust for you. humans, who live so imperfectly, so little, and yet so freely- creatures who do not look back before they jump because they do not have enough time to. people who live among the Folk and yet have no care for being good enough for them. and then cardan learned that he loved every single thing that made you human, every single thing about you that set you apart from those he was surrounded with- all equally as cruel and manipulative as him. every dimple, curve, scar, and line were all like breaths of fresh air for the forgotten prince.

🪷 either way, your love for each other crept up on both of you, until you both snapped and suddenly found your bodies entangled and lips interlocked as the world around you turned to a blur.

🪷 his kisses taste like fruity wine, only encouraging the dizziness you feel once he finally lets you escape his passionate embraces. and they have never been shy, and you have never cowered from them. he pulls you closer, you push closer, he kisses you hard, and you kiss him harder. you two challenge each other, relishing in each other’s playful competitiveness and bantering over who’s the better kisser.

🪷 for every important event cardan must hold as king of elfhame, you are there at his side. although the stubborn fae probably wouldn’t admit it, he wobbles beneath the heavy weight of the crown he didn’t even want, and still needs to learn to take these responsibilities seriously. you are his anchor, his partner in crime, the only second opinion he wants to hear- and also a good option for ruling in place of him when he slacks off.

🪷 if you are human, he tells you that you have somehow defied the laws of nature and glamoured him under your spell. he’s joking as usual, but there is really no other way he can explain the dizzying, storybook love he feels for you.

🪷 he will continue to bother you, tease you, and get under your skin even deep into your relationship. you learn that it stems from a desperate need to be seen and heard. you indulge him always, but not necessarily with snarky snips back all the time. whether you fight fire with fire or douse his with your water, the interactions are never serious and usually end in the two of you entangling your limbs together and lounging on some random velvet couch in an embrace.

#cardan greenbriar #cardan x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur’s gate astarion #astarion ancunin #prince cardan #the cruel prince #high king cardan #headcanon #headcanons #astarion x you

153 notes · View notes

saradika · 8 months

Text

— BLEED FOR ME | epilogue

[masterlist]

mand’alor!vampire!din djarin x f!reader

rated e - 1.6k

haunted hoedown: vampire!au + “i would burn the world for you.” + vampire has a taste for specific blood + revenge + (one-sided) enemies to lovers (+2 secrets!)

tags: vampire!au, sexual innuendos/references and nude cuddling, sweet and sappy fluff

a/n: honestly I just wanted to write a sweet little ending for them - this epilogue is optional! 💕

It's the last evening you'll wake like this.

There's a sort of melancholy with that knowledge. A thrill that comes soon after, as you already look to the future. All the changes that you will live to see, with Din at your side.

The adjustment will take some time getting used to, you're sure. But in ways, you're already living among them. The dusk is now your dawn, and there's solace found in a life spent walking under the stars.

But the diet... well, that will be one of the largest changes. The delicate pastries, the jams and the freshly-baked bread from the downstairs kitchen will be certainly something you’ll miss. But with time, you’re sure you will manage.

As you stir in the large bed - the last dregs of light filter through cracks around the arched windows, slipping in at the edges.

Rich pinks and purples fading into grey as they are dragged across the stone floor of the massive room you now share with Din - disappearing with the sun.

The room of slate grey now woven with shades of indigo and violet and gold. The starry night sky brought with you, when your things mixed with his. Reminders from your beloved tower, woven into tapestries that hang on the walls.

The rack of clothes near the door is now filled to the brim with pieces you now wear proudly. The books you've collected now line his shelves, next to your ottoman.

Everything weaving together so neatly.

Your lives have become entwined as well. There had been some adjusting, after he had returned to you. After that long morning spent, entwined in the sheets.

Time had been taken after, days and weeks spent with the intent of getting to know each other. Putting the knowledge of your bond aside - starting fresh, wiping the slate from before clean.

And now... that feels like a lifetime ago.

You cherish the few stolen minutes as your mate rests beside you - waiting for full darkness before he stirs. Your hand props up your chin as your eyes trace over his features, not wanting to wake him.

Over the bare expanse of his chest, the curve of a shoulder. The slight, persisting furrow of his brow. Parted lips, the points of his teeth just barely visible.

Dreamless, in his dormancy.

Among the list of changes, that is one thing that you do not think you will mind. Because with time, you have moved on from the before.

But it still comes back to visit you, in your dreams. Waking up in a sweat as the fire licks at you. The echo of the throbbing in your head, the ghosts of the faces that swim before you.

Compared to that - the soft silence is appealing. Perhaps preferable.

And soon he stirs, under your admiring gaze.

Under the fingertips that can't help but reach out and touch. Across the scars and marks you've come to know so well. Dark eyes fluttering open, the low groan as his muscles flex with his languid stretch - as he pulls you closer.

"Today is the day." You tell him, and he smiles.

He smiles more often, now. For you, behind closed doors and in stolen moments. A rich, ringing laugh that makes you feel accomplished when you can pull it from him.

Still so much the reserved man that you had met so long ago, but you know his humor now. The dry quips and the sighs, and each time you hear them - you think you fall just a little harder.

"It is," He agrees, his knuckles brushing your cheek.

There's a glittering look in his eye - before his hand is grabbing your calf, thrown across his waist. Pulling you to him, on top of him. Straddling his waist - your thighs squeezing his hips, as your hands flatten against his chest.

A little squeak as you find your balance, with a shift of your hips. The air cold above the nest of blankets, chilled by the thick walls of stone and the frost that's begun to nip at the grass outside.

Your skin pebbling, as his hands smooths over your thighs - trying to warm you. His sleepy gaze dragging over skin that's just as bare as his.

Lingering on the remnants from the morning before. The pretty marks against your skin, the twin sets of bruises lingering on the soft swells of your breasts.

Some, you still heal.

But there's others - ones tucked beneath layers of silver and crimson silk - that you leave. A secret something for him to rediscover later, when he strips the clothes from you.

"Are you nervous?" He asks, as his thumb sweeps across your skin.

After a moment of thought your nose scrunches, as you shake your head, "You said it wouldn't hurt."

"Wouldn't hurt too badly." He clarifies, carefully, "You'll be... uncomfortable. From what I remember. But I'll be with you."

You supposed it would be uncomfortable. To have your blood all but drained, leaving you open for it to be replaced.

But you can't help but think that there was a sick sort of romanticism in the ritual. At the thought of his essence being the first you will feed on - the final step of your transformation.

"If you're with me, then I can do anything." You smile.

Fingers bite into your skin, as his hips rock upward at your words. His cock twitching where it’s trapped snugly between your thighs, pressing against the soft curve of your ass.

His words come out distracted, "Maybe when this is over, you can convince Fennec. Show her that it isn't so bad. She's never seen the ritual done, before."

"I'm surprised she hasn’t changed yet." You can't help but move with him - a subtle rock of your hips that has an eyebrow raising, "She pretends not to be interested, but I saw her listening when I was talking about tonight with Boba."

Boba - who had chosen this path of life for himself, like you had. Following in his father's footsteps. A friendship had formed, and you know that he was someone who you could talk to without bias - who would give you each and every detail with an open clarity.

The messiness of your first hunt. The sharp bite of silver, the sear of the midday sun. The hunger.

Because, you knew that deep down - Din secretly held onto the wish to have with him. Just as you did.

"Perhaps she’s nervous. She’s had a close enough brush with death already.”

"I doubt that," Din’s guess makes your smile, as you counter, "Fennec isn't afraid of anything. I'm much more scared, and I'm still-"

His expression changes then, eyebrows pinching in concern. Hands bracing on your hips to pin you down, halting your teasing as he pushes himself up on an elbow.

"If you've changed your mind cyare, we can wait." Din tells you - solemnly and with no judgement, "As long as you need."

His words, his concern, warms you.

But you don't want to wait any longer. The thought had already first come to you, soon after your first evenings together. Only for that wish to intensify in those weeks and months that followed.

Sometimes it felt like it had taken so long to find Din. Even longer for him - neither one of you thinking or even suspecting that your mate might be out there. Waiting. Destined for them.

The idea that you wouldn't want to - that you could live with the idea of him existing in a world where you weren't right there, by his side was...

Impossible. Unthinkable.

"That's not what I meant." You frown, your head shaking, "We've talked about it."

His look softens, "I know we have. I just mean that either way, it's your choice."

“I’ve thought plenty about it,” You gently assure him, “I want this.”

You know that the choice has always been yours. And maybe that's one of the reasons you want it so badly. The very human urge to reach out and sink your teeth into the ripe fruit of immortality.

A smile, then - as your mind wanders. Wanting to turn him away from his concern - to bring that smile back.

"Besides, don't you think it will be nice, once you don't have to hold back?" You coo, distracting him again - taking advantage of this way his hands had loosed, with another pointed wiggle of your hips, "If I'm going to be your riduur, then I should-"

He interrupts you, with a voice that is rough and firm - the voice of a Mand'alor.

"You will be my riduur, vampire or not."

It makes your heart race, a fluttering of your pulse. Just how much he loves, how he always has. The true nature of those names he’s called you from the beginning carefully confessed, repeated reverently in your ear.

Groaned against your skin with the pump of his hips, the familiar swirl of his fingers. Mixing in with praise, choked out and ragged as he buries himself in you.

Whispered softy in the early morning after, as you both drift off together.

And now quickly you’ve caught up - falling head-over-heels as well. With his kindness and his ferocity and his loyalty, all so carefully woven into everything he did.

You think you would have fallen, even if he wasn’t your soulmate.

The upcoming ceremony is for tradition - something that you both want. But it’s not needed to prove your devotion - not with the way you both know deep down that the bond of your mark and your entwined souls more than joins you.

That it already tethers you together - throughout space and time.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum." You murmur - the words finally sounding smooth, with the hours of practice, "That's what I want. Forever."

You can feel his smile, as he pushes up to kiss you. Slowly moving down to your throat, the thrill of his open-mouth kiss heightened with the sharp scrape of teeth - a mimicry of later.

His voice is soft and smooth as he repeats the words. So full of love that it makes you ache, as his lips press against your skin. As he swears one more vow.

"Then forever is what I will give you.”

cyare - beloved | riduur - spouse

ni kar'tayli gar darasuum - "I love you." / I will know you forever”

— THE END!

(one of my fave parts of vampire/human romances is the ‘so do they turn too?’ and since they are soulmates I thought that would be fun to explore as a sweet little ending for this series. Thank you all so much again for reading! 💖)

(Tags: @dameron-grant-spector, @sugadolly, @writingsofestella, @spaceydragons, @-ohsolovely-, @survivingandenduring, @queenquazar, @alitaar, @dindjarinsslut, @creatureoftheunderworldd, @margowritesthings, @your-slutty-gf, @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl, @lovers-liability, @swissy23)

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin imagine #hauntedhoedown #haunted hoedown

265 notes · View notes

madarasgirl · 1 year

Text

Without You

Friends…I am a Mrs. now! The wedding stuff turned my head to goo...feeling very romantic (but also horny). Sorry for the sappiness in this story, which I baked on/off over the past month. This Alucard is pretty soft with his Reader until he wants to troll.

With how important a concept virginity is in the world of Hellsing, I was surprised by the lack of virginity loss fics, especially with a partner Alucard actually cares for. So I wrote one. Your decision was made. You will not forsake your humanity in exchange for an eternity with your vampire King. On the night he was to take your virginity, there will be no going back.

“Eternity is a long time, little one.” Tags/warnings: 18+ NSFW, Alucard (Ultimate) x Fem!Reader, Vladcard x Reader, Riocard x Reader. Romance, angst/comfort, emotional sex, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, creampie, oral sex, sex marathon, slight bondage & BDSM, partial mind control, anal, snowballing (?), tiny bit of predator/prey (Alu can’t help that side of himself), AFTERCARE, Alucard uses his abilities... Words: 10441

Tumblr won't let me post the full fic even though I've seen longer fics here before. So here's the link.

An excerpt is below the cut.

Dracula was crying. It felt as though he murdered you metaphorically even if you were still living, which was foolish because the sex only solidified the fact you will never turn into a ghastly vampiric monster like him. Yet the act also represented the end of something. The dream that you might always be together. Bloody tears stained his face and the silky sheets. He held you close, squeezing you into the soft mattress as he wept silently, unwilling to let you physically part from him.

You understood. Your arms found their way around his broad back and caressed soothingly in an oval track. Salty tears fell down your cheeks as you mourned with him –you mourned the fact you won’t always be there for him.

Sir Integra gave her blessing to your relationship with her servant years ago, instructing you to take care of him because he was little more than a sobbing child. Her words were nonsensical at the time. This creature of mass destruction, a sobbing child? She had been right all along.

You kept rubbing his back while you peppered his head with light kisses. You were lost in the intimacy of the moment, but when you came to, the vampire in your arms was Alucard again, peering at you lazily like he wasn’t vulnerable just now. This was the form in which you met. You loved him as the King, but also like this. You loved him in all his forms. You pet his sinfully alluring face as he purred and leaned into your touch. He loved to be touched.

He was so beautiful it just wasn't fair. His stunning appearance and cryptic mannerisms used to fluster the heck out of you. Fortunately, after many years together, you managed to better compose yourself in his presence. Until the next time he discovered another way to pester you, as Alucard does.

The Cheshire grin told you he heard your thoughts. “I’m not reading your mind, sweet, you are telling me.” He looked too pleased with himself. You exhaled. Nothing was fair to begin with when it came to this immortal being. “Come love, join me in the bath,” you told him, making to get up from the tear-stained bedsheets when you were swept off your feet and into lean arms several feet off the ground. “Alu, I can still walk!” You laughed at his overprotectiveness.

A sound at the back of his throat reverberated as he silently drew the bath and poured in scents and products, never letting you out of his grasp while he waited for the tub to fill with steamy water. “We will rectify that by the time I am through with you.” He finally replied, lowering both of you into the water, a devious grin painting his lips.

The bubbly water level reached your shoulders. You wriggled against a toned, lanky body to get comfortable, ignoring the boner poking your rear as you enjoyed the bath with Alucard. His head was thrown back against the tiles as he felt you shift around, your vampire the image of relaxation and contentment, his long limbs hanging awkwardly outside the tub. You sighed and leaned against him, the soothing water jets the only sound in the room.

He washed you, sweat and fluids sliding off your body with each swipe of his hands. "My Queen. My love...I will protect you. Always." His voice was low, eyes lidded and rippling with intent as he scented your rising arousal.

He buried his long nose in the crook of your throat and crooned, the elixir of your blood that raced under the skin ravishing his senses. He had been obsessed with your neck since the night you met. How he loved to lick, nuzzle, and sniff your throat. Running dexterous fingers down your waist, he found slick vertical lips once more.

The vampire made his infamous landshark smile from behind you, two rows of pointy teeth glinting in the soft light of the bathroom. He lapped at the side of your jugular, a low moan sounding deep from his chest as he teased, “So tempting, love.”

You snickered, head tilting over as if to invite him in, daring him to bite as you held his head and pushed his mouth against your throat. His teeth ached with the compulsion to drink, your intoxicatingly heady aromas tickling his bestial nature…

His fangs descended, his cock twitched. Alucard growled, huffing and finally ripping away from the urge to sink fangs into your vein. “A dangerous game you play, little one.”

#alucard x you #alucard x reader #hellsing alucard #alucard smut #alucard fanfiction #hellsing fandom #vladcard #riocard #post-30 year interval #alucard #alucard hellsing #hellsing ultimate #a bit of fluff but mostly heavy smut and some angst #yes I think Riocard is kind of scary

401 notes · View notes

connorsnothereeither · 6 days

Text

So like, a while ago I did a little update on the Brink fics, and I figured it was worth giving a kinda sad update on my other Fable fics as well.

At this stage, there are no plans to continue or finish Your Skin Beneath My Teeth (the second book in the Blood series).

I know this is probably disappointing, because I know a lot of people really loved the Vampire AU. But from a personal writing level, I’m just sort of unhappy with the direction of the books, and I don’t have the time to commit to rewriting them. I’m not invested enough in my own story, and while that’s a shame, I don’t know if there’s much I can do without just giving myself time to stew on it.

There’s also a logistical side to things as well. Fable is coming to an end in less than a month. I feel like it’ll probably take me months to finish the Brink series still first, which are the fics I’m personally more passionate about. And at a certain point, I don’t want Fable to be the only thing that consumes my writing for the next year+. Not to mention the time I want to dedicate to other SMPs and creative projects I’m involved in, like Cantripped, Bound SMP, and Terramortis, with even more stuff in the works.

On top of all that like… I’m just a guy, ya know. I’m a full time student, work part-time most days of the week, commute between 2 major cities regularly, and I have other things that just deserve my time more.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in fandoms for years, I know it’s shitty when fics you enjoy never get an ending. But I hope that like, people get where I’m coming from with discontinuing it, I guess.

Besides, there is, technically, an ending for Blood. I’ve had the ending written since the end of the first book (it’s just getting there that’s the problem) and so if people would like, as some sort of closure for the story, I would be happy to release that here on Tumblr or on my Kofi or something. Maybe I’ll make a follow up post with a poll.

I might as well mention that there is likewise no plan to “finish” the Band AU, but since that was always a collection of one-shots, there was never really a plan or end for any of it. It was always kinda disjointed without an end in sight lol.

I’m not saying that I’m NEVER going to go back to these fics. Just that it’s unlikely. But who knows, maybe someday I’ll crawl out of the dirt to finish them-

If you did only follow my Fable fics for the Blood books though, I’m sure some elements of my other fan works might appeal to you, if you want to give them a go! The horror/contemplations of humanity are the key theme of Brink, and the mystery/thriller, high stakes political conflict mixed with interpersonal melodrama is the focus of Cascading Skies, my new Bound fic. And of course those and so many more things are just key elements to like all of my storytelling my canon characters lol. But if none of that ticks your boxes, it was great to have y’all along for the bloody vampire ride :D

Anyway this was me getting sappy about setting aside a project I worked really hard on lol. Sometimes you gotta do that and sometimes that’s okay, and that’s an attitude I struggle with but am getting better at. I know don’t owe y’all any kind of explanation for this, I could have just stopped and let it die, but I wanted to give one. More for me personally really; I needed to say something about it publicly to like… fully cement in my mind what I decided on a long time ago. Anyway, catch y’all later when I’m not incredibly tired, and hopefully with a more silly goofy post ✌️

#fable smp #fablesmp #fanfic

54 notes · View notes

torturedpoetemotions · 4 months

Text

Laszlo cares SO MUCH and it isn't a new development in season 5, he's ALWAYS cared that much. Who he extends that care to may change over time, but like. In season 1 we see the lengths he went to trying to guard Nadja's happiness. He's killed Jeff god knows how many times, and it wasn't out of jealousy! Not with him and Nadja out here fucking and sucking everyone and anyone happily and openly. It was because having Jeff around always made Nadja unhappy eventually, and he hated that.

He gives his sappy speech at the orgy because he cares more about expressing his love for Nadja than he does about a lot of sex, despite being one of the horniest characters ever to grace the screen.

We see that he's managed to form a sincere attachment to Sean, and is deeply distressed at the thought of killing him. All the caveats that come with him being a vampire apply, of course, but he's still the first one in the house to form a sincere attachment to someone OUTSIDE of the house. And he LOVES Sean! He's always so delighted to help him in any way he can, goes out of his way to help get Sean out of the messes he gets himself into, NEVER judges him for it. He just LIKES him and accepts him for everything he is, and enjoys being there for him.

In season 3, he spends all this time with Colin Robinson, who he doesn't even like that much, bonding with him and trying to show him a good time, because he knows he's going to die soon. He wants to make Colin's remaining life as nice as possible. He wants to be there for him at the end. He prioritizes that, again, the feelings of this person he cares so much about, on his birthday and final day, over power and prestige among the wider vampire community. He initially refuses to ever go back to England because his wife was snubbed there, and he loves her SO MUCH.

Even what he did to Guillermo was out of care for Nadja. Deeply misguided, for sure, and not showing much concern for Guillermo at that point. But insert vampire caveats, the point is he CARES and tries his best to show it.

We then see him doing his best, with really no tools or skills, to raise baby Colin. Asking for help, even, when he feels he's doing it poorly. Setting aside his own expectations and even sharing memories of his own father to try and be what baby Colin needs. His whole life revolves around that kid all of season 4.

And then season 5 with Guillermo. He's the first one to notice something is off, which to me says he was keeping an eye on Guillermo. Maybe because they bonded more in season 4. Maybe because he was worried Guillermo would take the loss of baby Colin as hard as he did. But he notices.

And then when he finds out the truth, he keeps Guillermo's secret and spends months trying to help him. Despite Guillermo having done something he finds repugnant. He actually gets so invested in helping that it leaves him catatonic for days when he realizes he can't (because let's be real, that was in no way about organizing books). He then steps in to stop Guillermo's soft spot for Nandor and his trust in him from getting him killed (and secondarily, from leading to Nandor doing something he knows he'll regret). He KEEPS trying to look after Guillermo even after Nandor finds out.

He's also the one best able to give the Guide what she needs, regardless of how sincere (and I do think it was at least somewhat sincere, I can't imagine he would bestow backside compliments he didn't mean under any circumstances). He may not have decided she's one of his people yet, but he knows how to recognize what she needs and give that to her, which is more than the others are capable of in that moment.

I dunno man. Laszlo doesn't always show it well or get it right, but he cares and tries so terribly hard.

#laszlo cravensworth #the heart of the house truly #wwdits

115 notes · View notes

lou-iz-stat · 3 months

Text

While listening to the new podcast that Jacob Anderson was on I seriously got emotional about it. And it was not because of what he said about letting Louis go for a little while.

It was because when Jacob as talking about the other roles that he has had and how usually when he ends a role he doesn’t ever want to celebrate them but with Louis and Interview with the Vampire he decided to do something different. When he took the rocks from the Dubai set and scattered them where he felt most comfortable really felt like for once he was celebrating the work of the past two seasons.

And on top of that it really expressed to me how special IWTV as a show and story is. I know a lot of people have their favorite shows that they obsess over but this show really is something else. Like even Jacob says he is not really a spiritual person and neither am I but this show is so extraordinary that it just feels not of this world. And I don’t mean to sound so sappy or cheesy about this. I mean think about it there have been so many hurdles that this show has had to go through throughout the production of both seasons but it is still such an incredible and transformative show. And on top of that every single person on that set has nothing but great things to say about it. Even Luke Brandon Field who plays young Daniel even said it was his favorite set to ever work on. I can continue on and on including Jacob and Sam finding each other as platonic soulmates through this show. Every single person that has had a hand in the show just loves it so much like it’s not just a job for them but actual art. Frankly the show should not have worked with how many problems it initially had but because everyone loves the source material so much and what they are doing so much that it is almost if all that love was able to create a show like no other.

The last thing I want to bring up is that the show would not be what it is without amc. I know a lot of people take issue with the way that amc handled the marketing and promotion of season 1 and for the most part I can agree with those criticisms but I still would not want any other studio to have taken this story on. We can be frustrated with amc all we want but we have to acknowledge that if this show went to some other streaming giant like Netflix or Max the show would not have been this amazing. AMC, being that it’s a much smaller studio feels to me that they are much more closely connected to their shows. There always seems to be a sort of distance from the big studios to their shows considering they make so much content. And I am praying that I won’t regret when i say this but I just feel like AMC is in it for the long game. And if I do end up being wrong and the show does end up getting cancelled I seriously don’t know what I am going to do with myself.

Even as I type all this out I’m getting teary eyed just thinking about everything. Also I’m sorry for being so dramatic about the show but it really is the most important piece of media that I have ever experienced and no matter what happens in the future it will always be my favorite thing ever.

97 notes · View notes

amica-aenigmata-naboo · 6 months

Text

COLLISION

Astarion x Y/N - Chapter 7 - 3.8K WC - NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 NSFW 18+

Chapter 6 NSFW 18+

Chapter 7 NSFW 18+ (you are here!)

Warnings: last chapter!, penetrative sex (gender neutral), sappy and fluffy af

------------------

“What would you like to do my dear? It’s your last day as a mortal, anything you want shall be yours.” Astarion said as he finished dressing himself.

You smiled, watching him from the bedroll as you drank the tea he had brought you. You thought about what you could possibly miss the most once you could no longer thrive in the sun. “The beach, I want to go to the beach.” you said.

Astarion smiled at you, a fine choice he thought. “The beach it is.” he took the empty cup from you, helping you stand. You adjusted your clothes, knowing you wouldn’t be in them long once you got to the beach. Astarion held your hand as you both walked out of camp, his supply pack slung over his other arm. Gale was the only other companion awake so early. You waved at him as you left camp, he smiled back at you.

Astarion took you to a secluded cove, not another soul in sight. The water looked like it was made of crystal, shimmering and shining in hypnotic patterns. You quickly shimmied out of your clothes before bolting to the water. It captured you in a warm embrace, feeling perfect on your body as you twisted around in the water.

Astarion watched you from the shore as he slowly took his clothes off. You were so happy with something as simple as the ocean. He watched as you swam lazily, sun glistening on your body. He lusted for you but above all he felt this sinking in his heart. He loved you and couldn’t bear to think of life without you. When you agreed to becoming immortal it felt like a blow to his chest. In the best kind of way; he honestly expected you to say no. Maybe even leave him. He would have understood, but gods it would have destroyed him. Yet here you were, basking in the sun one final time. After the tadpoles were gone he wanted you to be able to remember this day, the way it made you feel. He would still take you to see sunsets, never wanting you to be completely withdrawn from the bright world. His thoughts were interrupted by wet arms encasing him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, kissing his bare shoulder.

“Nothing my sweet.” he said, turning around so you could face each other, his hands finding your waist.

“You have that look on your face.” you said.

He raised his eyebrow at you. “That! That look.” you giggled a bit. “It's a mix between perplexed and distraught.”

Astarion smiled and sighed, his hands coming up to envelop your face, “Are you sure you want to give this up?” he asked. He wanted to give you every opportunity to back out because, once done, it’s done. There is no cure for vampirism. You would be stuck.

“Astarion Ancunin,” you said firmly. His full name and tone of your voice had him holding your gaze, hanging on every word. “I want you. Everything else is…” you trailed off looking at him expectantly.

“Background noise.” he breathed out.

“I love you and will spend eternity proving it to you. Now, enough with the melancholy, come enjoy the sun with me.” you said while trailing your hand down his chest, over his stomach. His eyes closed as he felt your hand touch him where he wanted you most. Before any pleasure could build, you ran back to the water, laughing as you ran. Astarion was quick though, he grabbed you by your waist, you let out a happy shriek as both your feet got tangled causing you to collapse into the salty water. You emerged first wiping the droplets from your eyes as you looked around for him. Another shriek escaped your lips when he picked you up from under the water. He gazed at you, his ruby eyes big and round. You loved when he looked like this. Carefree. As if nothing had ever hurt him. As if it were just you two in the whole world. He slowly slid you back down into the water. You kissed him briefly before splashing him and trying to swim away.

-------------------------

You and Astarion laid on a large flat rock, half in the sea half out. The stone was sizzling against your wet flesh but you would have it no other way. You laid on your back with your eyes closed, your arms above your head, perfectly resting. Your eyes opened when you felt something cold against your lips. Astarion laid on his front, he held a grape to your mouth. You bit it in half, Astarion smiled and pulled the other half into his mouth.

“If you could go back to your world for a few moments, would you?” he asked randomly.

You pushed yourself onto your elbows, looking at him with a confused face, “Indulge me.” he said.

“I would only go back to get a few precious things from my house I suppose.” you shrugged, not wanting to make it sound like you wanted to go home in any way.

“Would you like to get your things?” you stared at him in confusion before he spoke again, “I spoke to that rhyming sack of bones and he said he could open a doorway so to speak. You’d get five minutes.” you kissed Astarion, seeing his true self be devoted to you and your happiness made your heart flutter. “Only if you come with me, I don’t want even the slightest chance of losing you should the portal close accidentally.”

“As if I’d let you go alone.” he said, kissing you quickly.

---------------------

Withers opened a portal before you. Astarion’s hand was clutched in yours tightly. You were terrified to go back to your world. Even the smallest threat of having to go back permanently or be without Astarion made you sick to your stomach. You swallowed down your fear, pressing “start” on your phone timer before jumping through the portal with Astarion in tow. It felt like you were falling before there was a harsh thud as your feet planted themselves against your bedroom floor. You heard little pats on the floor before a soft mewl.

“Diaval!” you cood to your cat before picking him up and giving him a cuddle. “He’s coming with.” you said to Astarion who rolled his eyes, fighting the smirk on his face.

You quickly shoved your favorite books and clothing into your backpack. Frantically trying to think of anything else that could be needed or wanted. Grabbing your favorite necklace you slipped it on and picked up your converse before handing them to Astarion. You picked up Diaval and hurried Astarion back to the portal. You took one final look around at the life you had. It was cold and dark in the room, lonely. Astarion slid his hand into yours, gently pulling you as he saw the portal start to get ever so slightly smaller. You ripped your eyes from your room, looking into his eyes, your future is all you saw.

You both emerged from the portal. It was as if hours had passed in Baldur’s Gate, the sun long gone behind the hills. Withers closed the portal as soon as you both stepped through. You didn’t know if Withers had emotions but you were so grateful. Surely he did it for a price but it didn’t stop you from sticking your hand out, Withers took your hand. You held it for a moment before giving it a squeeze, “Thank you.” you whispered to him.

You started towards Astarion’s tent before he gently tugged your arm. “Actually darling, I’d like to take you somewhere if that’s alright.” you smiled at him and skipped back to his side. You set Diaval down with Grub, the two sniffing each other out before Diaval sauntered away, presumably to explore camp.

You and Astarion wandered the streets of Baldur’s Gate. You could hear the carnival off in the distance. The music and voices around you made the busy streets feel even more frantic. Astarion occasionally pointed out shops or places he had a story for. 200 years in Baldur’s Gate gave him plenty of stories. Finally you ended up at the Elfsong Tavern. Astarion led you inside and up the stairs.

“Astarion! We need to pay to be up here!” you whispered harshly.

“I already paid.” he said in an unconvincing tone.

“Oh my god did you charm the innkeeper?” you asked, a smile creeping onto your face as you searched his.

“How lowly you think of me,” he said, holding his hand to his chest feigning offense.

You glared at him for a moment before he rolled his eyes, “... perhaps a bit of charm was used.” he looked anywhere but at you.

You laughed before squeezing his hand, “Lead the way.”

Astarion took you down the hall to a room alienated from the others. A simple room with a bed, a basin, and a small desk. Lamps flickered, illuminating the room with the dancing flames. You sat on the edge of the bed looking up at Astarion. He moved to stand between your legs, cupping your cheeks. He searched your face, unsure what he was even looking for. Your hands wrapped themselves around his wrists, gently smoothing your thumbs back and forth.

“I’m sure I want this Astarion. I’m not glass, I won't break.” you said, smiling softly at him, trying to reassure the growing worry you saw.

Astarion sighed before leaning down to peck your lips. “I wish I could have made it more romantic, but I suppose this will have to do.” he said, gesturing to the room.

“This is perfect.” you said as you laid down on the bed, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position.

Astarion climbed on top of you, his face looked sorrowful. He carded his hands through your hair, “I’m sorry this will hurt.” he looked at you.

You held his face, pulling him up to kiss you. You both stayed like that for a moment, exchanging kisses until Astarion felt you tug your shirt open. He pulled away and you nodded at him. He kissed your neck repeatedly before sinking his fangs in. You had become used to the sensation and gave nothing more than a little jolt when you felt him start sucking blood out of you. He drank for a moment, until you became woozy the room was spinning. As he pulled back, you had to wait a moment for him to come into focus. You saw him bite into his wrist, his blood looked almost black. He brought it to your lips, a few drops landing on them. The irony taste felt strangely appealing. You took his wrist in your mouth, sucking down gulps of his blood. You shoved him away and spat what blood was left in your mouth. You started crying and shaking violently. It felt as if a searing chill was spreading across your bones. Your insides meshed and mingled in the most painful fashion. Your teeth felt like they were being yanked out at an excruciatingly slow pace. Every bit of you ached. You writhed in pain on the bed as Astarion tried to talk you through it. He attempted to hold you but when you shoved him away again he left you be. You whimpered and screamed, hoping it would all end soon. Your vision was consumed by darkness before you felt your body go numb. You panted, the pain making your chest heave. When you opened your eyes it's as if your senses were dialed to eleven. Everything was perfectly focused, you could see every detail wherever you looked. Your hearing was impeccable. You could smell the city in every aspect. Above all you felt your throat and how dry it was. Aching for a sip. You sat up quickly, reaching for Astarion’s wrist. Sucking down more of his sweet crimson - you felt powerful. You could drink him dry if he had let you. He pulled away and you whimpered at the loss.

You had never looked so beautiful. Your striking red eyes held Astarion’s gaze. The blood that dribbled down your lips and chin gleamed in the fire light. Astarion kissed you quickly, whispering apologies for the pain he caused you.

“I’ve never felt better, my love.” you said flashing your first smile with your newly acquired fangs.

You lapped up the last of the blood on Astarion’s wrist before he kissed you, invading your mouth with his tongue. You both moaned at the contact. Astarion tasted himself on your lips. How delicious, he thought. You indulging in him. The heat spreading in your body makes you feel hungry, but not for blood. Your lover towering over you on his knees was a sight the gods would be envious of. You pulled Astarion back to you, fighting his tongue for dominance as you laid down. You untied your shirt with one hand as you lay there, the other running over the ridges of his scars along his back.

“Can we?” Astarion asked out of breath.

“Until the world crumbles around us.” you breathed back.

Astarion’s hand disappeared between your thighs. Nothing compared to the feeling. What you felt now is barely comparable to sex before, even with the elixir of folly in your system. Your senses were so heightened you had to tell Astarion to be gentler than he already was. Astarion watched you, your face distorted in pain and pleasure.

“Please…” you begged repeatedly, for what you didn’t exactly know.

Astarion kept on you, shushing you and whispering the filthiest things in your ear. “You’re so good for me, little love…”

You nodded fervently, too caught up in the pleasure to string words together. You reached for Astarion and guided him on top of you, hands skimming over the laces on his pants.

“Naughty - it’s like you read my mind.” he said, letting your hand sink into his pants. Feeling him through his small clothes. It set something off inside him. He swiftly took his clothes off, never stopping his hand from pleasuring you. You moaned loudly, feeling yourself all too close to the familiar edge. Astarion pulled his hand away, leaving you feeling unsatisfied. You let out a confused groan, looking to Astarion for an explanation. You watched as he fisted himself, the lust inside you roaring. Begging to be quenched. You couldn’t stand it, your own fingers instinctively going between your thighs to satisfy the ache in you. Astarion watched with hooded, dark eyes. Almost carnal, like a predator watching its prey. Astation pulled your hand away, lacing it with his, holding it above your head. You kissed him as he pleased you. His hands, mouth, and cock all trying to claim as many points of contact as they could. Unsurprisingly, you didn’t last long. The stimulation making you overly sensitive. Tears welled in your eyes, the pleasure making you convulse as Astarion chased his high. He followed you quickly with his release. Both of you panting for a moment, letting the remaining pleasure settle lowly in your stomachs. Astarion pulled off of you, both of you covered in blood and sweat. Without a word, He picked you up and walked to the room across from yours. A steam room with a bath poured to the brim of the large tub. Astarion locked the door before settling you into the bath. You sighed happily at the hot water. Astarion sat behind you, holding you to his chest. You almost drifted off to sleep a few times before jolting back up, determined to stay awake after such a monumental night.

“I thought I wouldn’t get sleepy as a vampire.” you mumbled into his chest.

He let out a breathy laugh, “Your body has been through quite a bit today, it’ll need a little rest.” you huffed out like an annoyed child. Astarion laughed before he kissed your head, playing with your hair as you both soaked in the tub. You fell asleep rather quickly. Astarion shifted gently so as not to wake you. He gently cleaned the blood from you, as a bit had gotten on your body in the heat of the moment. He watched you sleep as the water grew tepid. He could hear how shallow your heart beat was. Contrary to popular belief, it takes time to become undead, the vampire venom soaking into every atom of your being. He gently traced the healed bite scar on your neck. A forever reminder of what you are now.

---------------------

You awoke before Astarion, a rare thing. The sun was barely caressing the horizon. You felt hungry. Remembering that Astarion said you could embibe in mortal food you crept down the squeaky stairs. The innkeeper was scuttling around the kitchen, you slowly walked in, knocking gently on the door frame so as to not scare the woman. She whipped around, hand holding her forehead. She gave a pained smile as you remained in the shadows.

“Breakfast will be served shortly.” she said before letting out a whooping cough that echoed in the kitchen. The babe in her arms fussed about. The poor woman looked drained.

“If I may be so bold, you don’t look entirely… well.” you said inching closer.

She scoffed, “I don’t feel entirely well.”

“May I?” you said taking the milk and eggs out of her hands. She put up no resistance. “Here,” you said, handing her a few pieces of gold. “You go see the healer, I will take care of breakfast.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly…” she said, waving you off dismissively.

“I insist.” You said, gently taking the babe from her arms. “You go, we will all be fine until you return. How many patrons do you host?”

The lady of the house sighed, holding her head as she tried to remember, “Just umm… just you and your friends.”

Friends? You felt joy that your friends would be the first to see your transformation. They knew how much you and Astarion felt for each other, how you cared for each other. They would be happy for you both, intertwining your fates.

“Are you sure? It’s really nothing...” she said before letting out another cough.

“I’m sure madame, worry not, they are in good hands.” you gestured to the babe who had nuzzled themselves into your chest.

“Baela.” She said as she hobbled to the door, “Her name is Baela.”

You cooed at the baby, you never particularly wanted children but they weren’t so bad in small doses. You settled the baby on the counter, using your soft coat as a makeshift bassinet. They slept soundly, little huffs coming from their mouth. You got to work on breakfast deciding that french toast was easy enough for everyone. You played music on your phone softly so as not to wake the babe. You swayed around the kitchen, singing some of the words of the song while you cooked.

-----------------------

Astarion awoke to an empty, cold bed. He reached out for you but when he felt nothing on your side his eyes snapped open. His first instinct was to panic, he frantically got up. Throwing his clothes on sloppily he stepped swiftly down the stairs. He didn’t see you in the lobby but he ever so faintly heard music. He inched towards the kitchen, the smell of something sweet rising through the air. Astarion stayed in the shadows as he peered around the corner.

“And he’s very handsome. Did I mention that? His eyes are like rubies, his hair as white as fresh snow, and ughhh that voice? Simply to die for.” you spoke to the baby as she giggled and watched you plate all the food. You heard some of your companions rising above you so you readied the food, knowing they’d be famished. “Behind his beauty though… there is so much pain…” Astarion felt his heart sink, he knew you regretted him. “But! Now that I’m immortal, I can help him heal. His soul is truly beautiful, he’s so kind and caring despite his cold exterior. I punched him a bit after we met actually.” you said, tickling the babes stomach just enough for her to let out a shrill giggle. “... he is meant for me I think, and I for him. This universe had a collision with mine for us to even meet, how could we not be meant for each other?” you asked the babe who looked at you with wide, bright eyes.

Astarion’s heart felt as if it was beating again, he felt so human in this moment. Something he hadn’t felt in over a hundred years. Love was so foreign to him even now he questioned every move he made and every word he uttered. Believing you loved him so much was almost unfathomable.

Almost.

Astarion walked through the archway, finally stepping out of the shadows. Your back was to him so he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his chest to your back while placing a soft kiss on your neck. You hummed happy he was with you. You set the food and condiments on the table, waiting for the hungry adventurers to come downstairs. Astarion watched as you ever so gently picked up Baela. She fussed a bit before you hushed her. Astarion returned to his previous position, hugging you. You bothe swayed back and forth. Astarion watched Baela sleep. As much as he despised children, he could at least acknowledge the babe was cute.

“Darling, did you steal a baby?” he asked with a tinge of humor in his voice.

“Hardly,” you said as you smacked his arm lightly “the innkeeper is sick, she’ll be back as soon as she sees the healer.”

“Awww how domestic.” Karlach teased from the doorway, she eyed the table full of food. “You made breakfast?” she rushed over, making herself a plate.

Everyone else shortly followed, the innkeeper coming back already with more color in her face. You handed Baela off, waving to her as the innkeeper went to the front desk.

You watched everyone from behind the counter as they all ate while talking and laughing. Astarion gazed at you as you watched them.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What? Oh nothing… I just… This little group, it's like a family… it's all I could ever want. And having it with you, it… makes me happy.” you smiled fondly at everyone before looking to Astarion.

He pulled you into a gentle kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist and cupping your face with the other. Your hands rested on his chest. You heard the room quiet down, breaking the kiss you looked over at everyone. Most of them wearing shit eating grins, Karlach taking pictures with your phone. You blushed, hiding your face in Astarion’s chest until you heard their chatter pick back up. Astarion chuckled at your sudden bashfulness, he tilted your chin up. Smiles adorned both your faces.

“Whatever happens… together?” he held his pinky before you, eyes all but pleading.

You kissed him, locking your pinky with his, “Always.”

fin.

Taglist:

@lilmou5ie

Hello! I hope this was a satisfactory ending for you guys. I will write more and for other characters - just need to get some motivation and requests would be lovely to get the brain going. Thank you for reading, commenting, and reblogging! Love yaaaaaaa xoxo <3

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 #writing #bg3 wyll #gale of waterdeep #isekai #lae'zel #karlach #shadowheart #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate oc #astarion ancunin #astarion

112 notes · View notes

no-see-um-incorrect · 6 months

Text

The long awaited

The highly anticipated

The thing that’ll make you swoon

I’m bout to make you leave y’all’s man’s

✨William/Marie✨ headcanons

(A.K.A my actual antidepressants

⚠️Warning it gets really sappy⚠️

: he does that thing when they’re sitting next to each other (usually at a table) he will gently rub his knuckles up and down her thigh

: if the ground is wet or her feet hurt, he will pick her up without hesitation. This man is a 500+ year old vampire. she weighs nothing to him.

: chivalry died. William turned it, and became his maker. we’re talking opens the doors, hold her bag, offers his jacket if she’s cold or if it’s raining

:he sends her flowers very frequently. And make sure he sends them to her work or milo’s house and not her house

: she will address him like ”Will honey” or “William sweetheart” it makes the man’s heart skip a beat

: Milo said when he first learned that they were going out ”treat her like royalty Will ” and William responded fairly quickly with a ”don’t be ridiculous Mr. Greer……I will treat her like a goddess”

That comment is what won Milo over

: Marie is Handsy…..not like that you hoes. I mean, she’s very affectionate with her hands, like putting her arms around his neck, holding his face, putting her arms around his waist, linking their arms together. just overall very physically, affectionate. and William melts into it every time.

: William’s favorite thing to call her is his dove. Because she is the love and peace in his life.

: Marie did not expect how ripped this man is. like she thought that the strength he had was invisible strength. she was not expecting him to be jacked.

: Marie is also fairly muscular (I mean she spent roughly 17 years chasing after a bunch of shifters and working double jobs what do you expect) so when she took her jacket off during solstice to help David with something man could not take his eyes off. Like Vincent was laughing at him because he could not stop staring.

: lets her know how gorgeous he thinks every inch of her is (if I elaborate I might die)

:👏Queen Treatment👏

: One time William had a meeting with Vincent later in the morning and this particular morning, just happened to be the “morning after” a date night. And William did not realize that Marie had left a bright red kiss mark just above where his collar sits. and of course Vincent being Vincent noticed it immediately but didn’t say anything until he got home to lovely.

: another thing Marie loves to kiss this man. Just anywhere. anywhere and everywhere. red lipstick kiss marks all over his chest, shoulders, jaw, this man is Well Loved. 💋

: One time he noticed that some of Marie’s clothes were a bit worn, and some things that she would wear have tiny holes in them. So he gave her a credit card and just told her to max it out. so she took Milo on a little mother son date, that she always wanted to do, and they went clothes shopping and got lunch

: The first thing he noticed about her was her laugh. He heard it from across the room and did not stop until he found the person responsible for that laugh. and once he found her. just love. instantly. like it just hit him like a fucking freight train.

: she has crows feet when she smiles……………..If it was possible for someone to die twice, William did it just then.

: Milo had the upmost joy, helping his mother kick his father out of their apartment/house

: William loves to give gifts to her (kind of to compensate for the fact that he can’t really be around during the day) and she was so upset at herself because she couldn’t give him gifts. And then he explained to her in very um…… passionate detail that her existence in his life is the greatest gift he could give her and anything that comes from her is a blessing to him

(if that makes sense)

(I feel like I’ve said this next one before. Forgive me if I did. but even if I did, it bears repeating)

: 👏INSECURITY KISSES👏 if there is a single part on her body, rather that be stretch marks, scars, bumps, bruises, ANYTHING. He will kiss it as if it was a priceless diamond.

And that’s all you’re getting (for now 😉) hope you enjoyed feel free to re-blog and add more Love y’all 💋

TAG: @frog-0n-a-l0g @evansotherthoughts @everything-redacted-and-others

If you want me to tag you in the next William/Marie post let me know

#no see um writing #william/marie #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted headcanons #redacted william solaire #redacted william #redacted marie greer #redacted marie

104 notes · View notes

xalygatorx · 3 months

Text

Unbound | Chapter 16, "Full of Surprises"

Áine Ts'sambra—a wayward half-drow bard with a painful past—has her world upended when she's snatched up by a Nautiloid ship and furnished with a tadpole to the brain. In her journey to remove the infestation before it can turn her and her newfound companions illithid, she not only finds that their solution has more layers to parse through than she can count, but that a particular vampire in her party does as well.

Unbound is an ongoing generally SFW medium-burn romance based in the world of Baldur's Gate 3 between Astarion and a female OC. Any NSFW content will be marked in the Warnings section. Contains angst, fluff, explorations of trauma, spice, graphic fantasy violence, and a guaranteed happy ending.

For anything additional on what to expect (and not expect), check the preface post.

Summary: The party sets up camp with the myconids, resting before doing the Sovereign a favor. They meet the other colony guests—a hobgoblin, a mind flayer, and a sanguine alchemist. Astarion is put in a position to stand up for himself (and Áine has an opportunity to stand up for him as well). Astarion is honest with Áine about his complicated relationship with intimacy and about what spurred their affair in the first place. The pair decide where they’ll go from there.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!OC

Warnings: Descriptions (in-depth but not graphic) of Astarion’s sexual trauma; early Araj appearance (we will still probably run into her at Moonrise later); fluff; comfort/hurt; angst; trauma; flashbacks and descriptions of physical anxiety responses and feeling triggered; blood & blood-drinking; lightly proofread

Word Count: 8k

Listening to: Quiet the Monsters - Victoria Carbol

A/N: Just want to quickly say thank you so much for all the comments, feedback, and kind words on Unbound, it helps the headspace a lot and it means the world to my sappy little heart. x

Áine’s heavy rucksack hitting the ground caused a blossom of tiny, glimmering bioluminescent spores to rise in a small puff from the base. The cloud also subsequently caused Áine to sneeze. The bard frowned at the discovery, shaking her head as she rifled through her bag for a health potion, thinking how she’d never live it down if she was half-drow and somehow allergic to the fungal flora of the Underdark.

“That was precious,” Shadowheart remarked on the sound of Áine’s half-muffled sneeze, earning a glower from the bard. “Have what you need to heal up?”

“I should,” Áine said, her fingertips skimming the side of one of the glass bottles she was searching for. She plucked it out and checked it before uncapping it to take a long sip. “I just got knocked around really. I’ll be glad when that burrowing monstrosity stops retreating every time we almost kill it.”

“Indeed,” she sighed, rubbing her hand along her arm as a turquoise glow emitted from her palm. “Between that and the minotaurs, a clan of agreeable mushroom folk was a welcome find. Although I could do without the strange voices that keep projecting into my head.”

“Other than the usual ones, you mean?” Áine teased her, earning an eyeroll.

The bard glanced across the little foothills they’d stumbled upon, the different levels connected by toadstools as big as trees. It felt like a sort of haven, perhaps because it was the first time since they’d left the Selûnite outpost that she’d felt like she could relax a little. Unless that godsdamned bulette came back, but the myconids seemed to maintain this area firmly for themselves and she hadn’t seen any evidence of the thing disrupting the dirt through their settlement.

“Tell me you didn’t pick up another ‘hero’s quest’ side job from that creature on the roll,” Astarion grumbled as he walked to join them, already exasperated because he knew Áine and of course she’d said they’d help someone else. Yet another useless venture for gnomes this time of all things.

“Astarion,” she murmured, her tone scolding. “It won’t kill us to help her.”

“Well, it might,” Shadowheart posited with a shrug.

“See?” Astarion griped, gesturing toward the cleric. “Someone with sense. Imagine.”

Áine glared between them, her lover and her best friend teamed up against her. Unbelievable. “We’re going that way anyway to cull those slavers for Spaw,” she pointed out. “And it’s not like I take these things on for free. We need the extra coin.” She sighed as she set her bag back down, placing the empty potion bottle next to it. “Especially after I suck it up and stock us back up on supplies.”

“And where do you plan to do that?” Shadowheart asked, glancing around and finding the area just as shopless as she’d first assumed.

Áine nodded toward the side of the settlement where a studious hobgoblin worked over a table. “I’d like to see if he has anything to trade. There was a drow over there too who might be worth speaking to. She looked like she had some alchemy equipment,” she said as she got her coin pouch from her hip and took a tally, mentally preparing herself for inflated Underdark prices.

“You’re going back over there? Where the mind flayer is?” Shadowheart demanded.

“Sure,” Áine said, shrugging when she met Shadowheart’s skeptical eyes. “They seemed perfectly fine for being a mind flayer. And vegetarian.”

“Ugh, fine,” Shadowheart sighed. “Just be careful. And here.” She took a handful of coins from her purse and put them in Áine’s palm. “To help with the potion restock.”

“Thanks,” Áine said, looking at a pouting Astarion. “You coming?”

The vampire made a noncommittal grunt in his throat, which she just took to be a yes.

“Can I come?” Karlach piped up nearby. “I’m bored to tears.”

Áine laughed as she led the way from their campsite, ending up with an entourage of Karlach, Wyll, Astarion, and Scratch. She dropped her hand to her side and stroked Scratch’s ears as he trotted alongside her, just pleased to be among his friends. As she drew close, she said, “Erm, Blurg? You wouldn’t happen to have anything you’d want to trade, would you?”

“A curious mind would never refuse to peruse,” the hobgoblin said amenibly. “What are you looking for? And what can you offer?”

“Some basic supplies and medicinal tonics are what we seek,” Áine explained. “To trade we have a bit of gold, some odds and ends, and at least one charming smile.” When he looked at her, she jokingly gestured to Wyll and said, “That’s his specialty.”

Wyll smirked, laughing when Astarion gave a disgruntled huff in Áine’s direction that she ignored.

“In the way of supplies, I do tend to overstock for myself so I would be happy to trade something of that ilk with you,” he suggested. “Let me have a look at the ‘odds and ends’ and if nothing strikes, gold always sits well.”

Áine got out the items she’d collected for bartering purposes to let him have a look. As he stooped over the array to have a gander, she heard Karlach hiss to get her attention. “‘Ey, soldier,” she said, nodding just down the wall toward the female drow that Áine had seen earlier. “She looks more like the potiony type. Might be worth asking her?”

Wyll pulled a face when he followed Karlach’s gesture. “Hmph, an underelf?” he mumbled.

“Gods’ sakes, Wyll,” Karlach chastised him, making Áine smirk to herself. “You do recall that Áine’s half-drow, right?”

Wyll blushed with the appropriate amount of chagrin. “Right. Sorry, Áine,” he mumbled.

“That’ll be Araj over there,” Blurg said absently as he picked out a couple of things from Áine’s stash and gathered some supply packs to offer for compensation. When Áine agreed to the trade, he pocketed the trinkets and said to Karlach and Wyll, “She would be a good ask for your tonics and elixirs, but she does follow more of a…specialty than most alchemists I’ve met.”

“Hopefully she’s not opposed to half-bloods,” Áine sighed, already readying herself to be condescended to. “Thank you, this helps us a lot.”

“Thank you,” he said. “And good luck with your tadpole dilemma.”

It was refreshing to not be balked at for having a parasite in her brain, which wasn’t a thought or feeling Áine had ever thought she’d experience before her abduction. Karlach and Wyll led the way to Araj’s setup while Astarion fell in step with Áine, lowering his voice to chat with her as he was curious as to what she’d decided to part with. They paused their conversation with murmured “later”s and a sneaky brush of hands when they caught up with Wyll and Karlach, who had just gotten the drow’s attention.

“Ah,” she huffed, looking at Áine with undisguised speculation. “Half-human, I assume?”

Here it comes. “Indeed, but I prefer to go by Áine,” she said dryly. Astarion and Karlach snickered, both trying to hide it at least until they got whatever potions they could get from her. Their efforts only grew more difficult when they made eye contact just to see the other in equal shambles.

“How lovely,” the drow alchemist purred and Áine wasn’t sure if Araj referred to her name or her genetics. Either way, it was preferable to another person telling her that she’d muddied her lineage. “Araj Oblodra, trader in blood and the sanguineous arts. It is a pleasure to stand before a True Soul if what I caught of your conversation next door is accurate.” Her garnet eyes slid toward Astarion. “And your pale companion, of course.”

A blood alchemist? she wondered, both intrigued and alarmed. She’d never heard of such a thing. And, it seemed, an Absolutist nut at that. “You know of the Absolute?” Áine asked, playing into the narrative seamlessly. She tried to ignore how Araj took in Astarion like he was on offer with the rest of their wares.

“Who does not, this side of Faerûn?” Araj mused. Based on everyone they’d met, Áine couldn’t disagree with her. “I’d like to offer you my services if you’re willing?”

Áine’s expression turned bewildered. “If I’m willing? What exactly are you offering?”

“As I said, I trade in blood and the potions that can be wrung from it,” the drow said. “I’m more than happy to make one for you…if you’ll honor me with your blood. With one drop, I can brew a potent potion just for you. The rest, I keep for myself.”

“What sort of potion?” Áine asked, considering it more now that she knew the alchemist was only after a drop. Although she did wonder what she’d want with the “rest” she mentioned keeping. Research probably.

“No idea!” Araj exclaimed, enthused by not knowing. “But it will be unique to you—your blood essence and the Absolute’s blessing intertwined. We can learn exactly what that means together.”

“Hmm…,” Áine hummed, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Alright.”

“Just a little prick and it’s all over,” Araj assured her as she reached for Áine’s hand. She created a tiny incision in her fingertip, methodically milking the wound over a vial.

Áine shifted uncomfortably, flicking her eyes up toward the ceiling to ignore the procedure. It was wild how blood didn’t bother her whatsoever when it was on a battlefield but as soon as it was something as sterile as a medical process, her stomach turned. She’d even gotten used to Astarion drinking her blood somewhat, but just barely. Half the time she had to just pretend he was necking her a little too roughly. She supposed that wasn’t not the case.

Araj took the vial and turned to her tools and glass implements, the gurgling of boiling, steaming liquids amplifying as she started to create a brew. Subconsciously, Áine popped her bleeding finger into her mouth to hasten the clotting, only glancing toward Astarion after she did. He was giving her a withering look that made her smirk around her fingertip.

“Later,” she mouthed after freeing her digit and Astarion’s annoyed glance faded, satisfied with the compromise.

“And there we are!” Araj proclaimed as she turned around and offered a corked flask to Áine. “All of your best traits in a bottle. Use it well.”

“Thank you,” Áine said, smirking as she added, “I think. Maybe we should wait to see what it does before I thank you.” Araj chuckled and Áine asked further, “Would you have anything pre-brewed that you’d want to sell? I know it’s not your focus, but we’re hoping to restock on some basic stuff for the road.”

She gestured toward a cluster of bottles set aside from her workspace. “I have a hodgepodge of elixirs and potions just over there if you’d like a look,” she suggested. “Some extra stock from my journey. Some of that gold back would be a positive.”

“I’ll take a look, thanks,” Áine said, pocketing her pricked hand so she didn’t touch anything that might infect the little cut before she could clean it back at camp. She stepped over to the cluster of potions, lifting a bottle here and there to check for labels. With her back turned, Araj’s attention drifted again.

Astarion noticed Araj’s hungry stare and his eyes narrowed, glancing fleetingly toward his companions. Áine and Karlach were hunched over the bottles and Wyll stood nearby, staring down the path while lost in thought. Astarion cleared his throat and continued to avoid Araj, but he could feel her eyes on him, rooting him to the spot and peeling him apart. He hated it.

Áine, not seeing a wink of what was happening just over her shoulder, was a little startled when Araj spoke again. And then deeply unsettled by what she said. “Perhaps there is one more thing we could discuss…,” Araj mused, her eyes still hooked into Astarion. “Your friend.”

Astarion’s jaw tightened, his posture rigid. Áine, Karlach, and Wyll all looked over from what they were doing but Áine was the one to speak. “Um… Excuse me?” she asked.

“He’s a vampire, no? One of their spawn at least.” She spat the word like a curse.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Astarion swiftly said, his mask fully up. “We’re all friends under the Absolute. I won’t bite.”

“Oh, I’d prefer if you did,” Araj countered. All their eyes had gone a little round at that and Áine’s expression remained bewildered as Araj turned to her. “He belongs to you, I assume?”

Astarion faltered, hiding it well. Suddenly he was little more than a slave again and that old, familiar dread started to creep in. Meanwhile, something in Áine began to unhinge.

Her eyes narrowed, hoping she was just being dense and misunderstanding the woman’s question. “...He belongs to himself. If you have questions for him, you can direct those questions to him,” she said in a hard voice. Astarion’s eyes darted toward Áine’s bristling tone, vulnerability flashing through his eyes faster than light.

Araj gave an amused hum. “I’m sure he really believes that… How utterly adorable.” She slanted her gaze back to Astarion. “Do you have a name, spawn?”

“A-Astarion, but hold on!” Astarion stammered, holding his hands out in front of him.

“Good,” she purred back to him for, as she saw it, following her order. “Now, Astarion, I’ve dreamed of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice creeping a note higher in disbelief, “you want to be bitten?”

Áine was watching the exchange with discomfort. Araj had struck her in odd ways when they’d first spoken, but now she felt genuinely disturbed. And oddly a faint twinge of jealousy. Maybe because most of the times Astarion had bitten her at this point had been mingled with something more intimate or maybe because it would be the first time outside of a quick chomp during a fight that he elected to drink from someone that wasn’t her.

It was an odd train of thought, so she abandoned it and continued to listen in while she placed a couple of bottles she’d set aside to buy back into the original cluster. She’d scrape up ingredients and make her own healing draughts if Araj was their only option for the stuff.

“To feel your life’s blood slipping away?” Araj mused, her tone painting the experience as a sensual one. She’d heard of a vampire’s bite being fetishized but it was something completely different to see it in real time. “To dance on the edge between life and death? Yes. I want it.”

Infuriating Áine further, Araj turned to speak to her again as if she were Astarion’s keeper. “I’ll even compensate you. Whatever vials you require from that pile plus a potion of legendary power that forever increases the strength of the one who consumes it.” She slid her gaze back to Astarion, who stiffened beneath it. “It’s not for sale. But it’s yours…if you bite me.”

Áine wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do, but it did surprise her a little when Astarion said without a second thought, “I will have to decline.”

“Excuse me?” Araj laughed, incredulous. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you’re squandering it.”

“I gave you my answer,” Astarion gritted, something disgustingly close to fear rising in his chest. The compulsion to obey his master. The demand to use his body, his entire being, in bent form to his sire’s will. This wasn’t the same, but he felt its echoes.

Offended and blustering, Araj directed her next words at Áine. “Ugh, can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?!”

Astarion dared a look at his lover. Áine’s eyes were colder than he’d ever seen them as she inhaled a deep, steadying breath and leaned away from the table to face Araj. Her anger was barely contained. “He said no,” she growled.

“How very disappointing,” Araj murmured. “Right. Well, then I suppose gold will—”

“Keep your wares,” the bard muttered, leading Wyll and Karlach back toward Astarion and Araj. His tension eased a bit once they were back in his proximity. “And keep to yourself. Come near him again unbidden and that dealing, you will have with me.”

Araj tsked at Áine. “I’d always heard half-breeds were feral,” she spat.

A dangerous smile crossed Áine’s mouth, her eyes boring into Araj’s. “Would you like to find out for yourself?” she asked, positively saccharine.

Araj’s face flickered with a twinge of fear and she huffed, looking toward Karlach and Wyll. Finding no sympathy on their faces, she muttered a few choice words in elvish and turned away from them, back to her work. Áine had half a mind to teach her a lesson, but she forced her burning gaze away from the alchemist’s back and whistled for Scratch before leading them all back to camp.

Astarion was more than relieved to be away from the drow, his jaw finally unclenching when they were a few paces back down the path.

“The audacity!” Wyll was exclaiming, absolutely floored by what had just happened. “What a horrible woman!”

“Proud of you for sticking up for yourself, Fangs,” Karlach said, equal parts agitated and fired up in her protectiveness. “That was fucked.”

Astarion found himself relaxing further at Wyll and Karlach’s praise and validation, his gaze lingering on Áine walking just ahead of them with Scratch. Her shoulders were still rigid, proverbial hackles still up, and her hands were balled into fists at her sides.

He would’ve done it if she’d asked, he realized, even with his autonomy returned. Even if he’d been left to Araj wearing him down, he may have buckled despite how positively fetid the drow’s blood had smelled. He’d had so little opportunity to make his own choices unpunished in this life that the word “no” had felt foreign on his tongue every time he’d said it back there.

Even at the offer of a potion that would’ve arguably been quite useful for their cause, she hadn’t hesitated. Hadn’t questioned why he didn’t want to bite the drow. Hadn’t expressed an ounce of disappointment or inconvenience when he’d opted out. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her so deadly angry either.

They arrived back to camp and Scratch immediately bounded off to find the owlbear cub, who was sitting next to Halsin with a dopey expression on its young face. They’d become fast friends and it was adorable. It did little to calm Áine’s ire at the moment, but only because the flames were burning so high.

How dare she?! Suddenly she could empathize with Astarion’s impulse to go back out to the woods and kill Gale after originally deciding not to—not because of anything to do with Gale but because it was taking everything in her not to go back to that table and reduce Araj to resemble her own nasty spread of potion ingredients. Half-breed comments be damned, she wanted to kill her for placing Astarion in even a semblance of one of the situations he’d finally escaped.

Muttering under her breath, Áine slammed the supply packs down next to her rucksack. Methodically, she started to paw through the pack to put back the bits that Blurg had passed on and do some updated inventory. It was necessary and it gave her something to do. The stuff she’d gotten from Blurg seemed good and that would get them through their trip to track down the duergar at least. If they rationed a little more harshly, then—

“Ahem.”

The meek intrusion jarred her from her scattered thoughts, and she looked up over her shoulder, finding Astarion lingering behind her and fiddling with his fingers. “Do you have a moment?” he asked, obviously anxious.

“For you?” she suggested, getting to her feet and brushing off her pants as she turned to face him. “Any moment you’d like.” Had she ever seen him so timid?

“I, uh…,” he began, faltering. His voice was soft and emotionally raw. It did funny things to her heart. “I want to thank you.”

Áine’s brow creased. “For what?”

“For what you said,” Astarion replied, “whilst I was in front of that vile drow. All my years serving under my master, what I felt about what I was doing…it never mattered.” He sighed. “You could’ve asked me to do the same just then. To throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned. I likely would have done it, you know.”

Áine frowned. “Astarion, I would never.”

“I know,” he reassured her, his voice gentle. He was silent for a long moment, seeming quietly overwhelmed. “...And I’m grateful.” He made an impatient sound as he waved his sentimentality away and, gesturing, said, “It would’ve been so easy just to bite her! To just go along with what I was being told to do. A moment of disgust to force myself through and then I could’ve carried on, just like before.”

Áine’s brow crumpled. “Isn’t that what you’ve been hoping to leave behind?” she ventured to ask. “What could possess you to repeat the motions now?”

“Repeat the motions,” he repeated in his head. You’ve no idea how close you are to the truth. The thought made him sullen and panicked for their eventual conversation about just that.

“Habit perhaps,” Astarion said on a sigh. “It was all I knew for a very, very long time. Even still, amongst, well friends I suppose, it’s difficult not to expect a trap in every question. A punishment for every wrong answer. The illusion of choice. In any case, that made me realize that despite being ‘free,’ I’ve still been living as if I’m not in many ways.”

Áine listened, nodding slowly as she processed his answer. She remembered her first couple of years out in the world on her own.

Everything had felt like a trap. She’d been utterly paranoid out of her mind. Every too-friendly face she met, she’d met with suspicion. She’d run any time someone got too close to her and veered firmly away from anywhere that could’ve been described as “bustling,” but she’d been terrified when she was completely alone too, a sickly member of a herd to be picked off.

It had been the worst those first few months, her old strength and left shoulder shattered along with her sense of identity. He was in one piece physically, but he was only about a month or so out from his escape. She couldn’t imagine he’d felt safe a moment since. And in Áine’s experience, she wasn’t so sure he’d truly feel safe for quite some time. Ten years later, she still didn’t.

Astarion watched the understanding soften her features and could only hope that it would carry over into harder topics. Knowing he’d back down if he didn’t, he asked, “May we talk later tonight?”

“Later?” Áine asked, tilting her head. “We can—”

“Later would be best, if that’s alright, my dear,” he suggested, knowing she would offer to have their conversation now. He could see in her face that his request worried her.

Slowly, Áine nodded. “Sure. I guess…just come get me when you’re ready.”

“I will,” he promised and it held none of his usual sensual spin he liked to put on everything. He nodded toward her pricked finger. “How is your hand?”

Áine smirked as it all came around to blood again, extending her hand and raising her fingertip for his inspection. “It’s fine, but I do wish I hadn’t given her a damn thing now,” she said, the edge back in her tone.

Astarion’s eyes flickered down to the small clotted cut on her finger, leaning in closer to examine it and taking her hand in his to bring it to his eye level. Áine smirked, expecting him to reopen it and take a sip—she’d promised after all—possibly with the addition of making it an innuendo.

However, when she braced for the sting of his fangs as he dropped his mouth to her cut, she was surprised when all he did was kiss it. She saw his craving in the way his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared at the scent, but he didn’t try to partake.

“Perhaps get a salve on it, darling,” he suggested while Áine still watched him, bemused.

“Sure,” she said, watching him step away with a mix of confusion and affection. He was acting strangely, but she didn’t quite feel as if it were the sort of “strange” he’d be acting if he intended to end things later.

But, if not that, then what?

Reassuring herself that Astarion’s wasn’t the behavior of someone who was soon to end a relationship sufficed to steady Áine’s nerves through the evening. There was no “breaking up” when they’d never been exclusive, she kept reminding herself. Even if she’d felt exclusive with him the moment she’d realized there was a mutual interest between them, nothing had been spoken into existence. She’d just leaned in too far and fallen.

She knew how she was with these sorts of things—at the inception of a crush, she was all-in. That wasn’t the norm.

Áine did her damnedest to not let her anxieties creep out in the open, too. As much as this was eating away at her, something had eaten away at Astarion enough for him to ask her specifically for a time that they could speak. There was something on his mind, too.

Knowing she’d just wear a rut on her tent floor, Áine took up her usual spot near the fire. She was without her lute, but the myconids’ melodies interwoven in the spores around them felt like more than enough of a nightly treat for the ears. She laid back on the dirt, her fingertips tracing faint patterns in the deep earthen soil and her eyes cast toward the black ceiling overhead serving for a sky. She marinated in her thoughts and the interesting flow of the unearthly music in her mind until Astarion’s beautiful face peering over her blessedly cut her overthinking short.

She smirked up at him and shifted one of her hands behind her head. “Huh. A star in the Underdark,” she mused aloud, making him smile and roll his eyes. “How poetic.”

“Aren’t the romantic advances and suave pickup lines meant to be my job?” Astarion asked as he sat down next to her, his gaze following hers to skim the towering caverns.

“Mm, we can take shifts,” Áine said, nonplussed by his grumbling. Subconsciously, she moved one of her hands over to gently rub his back, but she stopped herself shy of his shirt when she remembered his scars. When she looked at his face, she saw he was already observing her dilemma. “Sorry. Instinct,” she said as she started to tuck her hand back under her head.

“What instinct exactly?” he asked.

“Uh,” Áine mumbled, suddenly flustered at having to put her silly little notions into words. “I was going to rub your back. Didn’t fully think it through. Unless…that sounds interesting?”

Astarion was amused by something, whether it was her tone or her wording. He thought over her offer before giving her a measured nod. “You may try if you’d like.”

With care, Áine laid her hand against his clothed back, feeling the faint shudder that rippled through him. “As ever, just say the word,” she murmured, her voice and her touch tender as she began stroking his back, beginning with small predictable circles. Her heart broke as she felt the raised lines of his scars through the fabric of his shirt. “True vampire” rules be damned, she’d bleed Cazador on his own palace steps if they ever crossed paths.

He interrupted her ferocious thoughts when he said, “I think the others have all taken to bed… I mentioned it earlier, but I think we need to talk.”

Áine’s hand stilled against the small of his back, almost feeling stupid for having it resting there now. Her throat suddenly dry, she asked, “Is here okay or did you want to go somewhere else?”

Astarion shook his head. He wanted to keep this on neutral ground rather than in one of their tents. Just in case. “No, here is fine.”

Áine’s brow creased, her eyes speculative. “...Are you alright?”

“Oh yes, I’m fine,” Astarion quickly said. “I just… Well, I feel awful.”

Áine’s chest felt like it was constricting. Here it comes, she chided herself. You got in too deep, as always. Well, actually opposite of always. Regardless, just as much of a fuck-up. She drew a breath and sat up, pulling her knees toward her chest and looking at his profile. “I’m listening?”

Astarion seemed almost scared to look at her, which she couldn’t comprehend. But he still made himself do so, sitting on his knees and turning his entire body toward her. When he met her eyes, she read the precise fear there that she’d anticipated, but she couldn’t imagine the why of it. His attention faltered for a split-second as he studied her face and seemingly without thinking, he mumbled a dumbfounded, “Gods, you’re beautiful…”

He cleared his throat too harshly and coughed against his fist, creating even more confusion in Áine than before along with a bright blush in her cheeks. “Mmf, no, that’s—it’s true but that’s not what I mean to discuss,” he scrambled. He was so uncharacteristically scattered that she may have laughed were she not frightened of whatever he was about to drop on her.

Astarion found the wherewithal to continue after searching himself for that singular selfless bone left in his body. He couldn’t bear to lose her, but it wasn’t solely his choice in the matter. Not anymore.

“Right. Look. I had…a plan. A nice simple plan. And that plan…well, it’s been my most solid strategy for the past 200 years. Never played for myself, but for Cazador.” As ever, he sneered the name like a curse. The shadows beneath his eyes seemed to darken further as he spoke. “We’ve spoken of the torture, of the compulsion, of the rancid vermin and insect-based diets… There was…much more.

“My ‘duties’ to Cazador entailed bringing him the most beautiful souls I could lure his way from the streets of Baldur’s Gate,” Astarion explained, his eyes far away. “I was meant to do so…with my body. With sweet words and promises and sex. From a tavern corner, from an alleyway, it didn’t matter. What happened to me, what I wanted…none of it mattered. I was a puppet with my orders and I served those souls on silver from the time I could be let off the leash to prowl the city proper. I was told time and time again that my body was all I was good for until I believed it. I still find myself believing it. It’s my only token of trade.

“I may have been free of Cazador from the time the mind flayers snatched me up, but I’ve been realizing that I’m working in the same patterns. Less and less over time, but my survival instincts still default to those old methods. Whatever worked, whatever kept me alive since I wasn’t permitted to die.

“All that to say, I…needed help. When you found me, I needed protection. And therein hatched the plan,” he drew a sharp, anxious intake of unnecessary breath. Áine sat stone-still and just listened, dread still coating her stomach.

“My ‘simple’ plan…was to seduce you. Sleep with you. Manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. At least until I didn’t need your help any longer,” Astarion said, a panicked chuckle passing his lips. “It was easy. Instinctive. Habits from two centuries of charming people kicked in. All you had to do…was fall for it.”

His voice cracked as he forced himself to keep looking at her when he wanted to run and bury himself back in the grave. “And all I had to do…was not fall for you. Which I think we both know is where my nice, simple plan fell apart.”

Astarion’s throat worked as his hands rose from resting against his knees and gestured toward her as if pained. “You… Áine, you are incredible. You deserve something real,” he said, swallowing hard. “I want us to be something real.”

He stopped speaking and Áine knew that he was waiting for her to say something now. She could feel the preemptive tears pooling against her lashes, her nails picking anxiously at her shirt sleeve. She was relieved that it wasn’t over, that she hadn’t done something wrong, but…there was still that sense of betrayal, too.

The signals she’d gotten from him since that night had been real, she knew that, but before… Well, she’d just been stupid before then, was that what she was to take from this? Shadowheart had been absolutely correct in warning her against his advances at that time and she’d just hopped too-willing and wine-flushed into his lap. And she realized the gutting feeling she was experiencing wasn’t necessarily betrayal or anything to do with him, it was embarrassment at her own actions. It was shame. More than that, she was devastated for him and his past.

Áine drew in a shaky breath and asked slowly, “...So the nights we spent together… They didn’t mean anything?” Gods above, don’t you dare cry now, she chided herself. Her inner voice almost didn’t sound like herself in that moment. You weak little thing, why must you always cry?!

“Of course they did, that’s the point!” he said emphatically, his hands twitching like they ached to take hers. “Or…part of it anyway.” Astarion pushed down a grumble of frustration. “Áine, being close to someone—any kind of intimacy—was something I performed to lure people back for him.” His brows canted upward and she saw the heartache in his eyes unmasked. “Even though I know things are different between us, being with someone still feels…tainted. It still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. Sporadically, most days. Other days, constantly.

“I don’t know how else to be with someone… No matter how much I’d like to,” he confessed. “And I would like to. It terrifies me sometimes how much. But I fear misjudging my own capabilities after being so thoroughly broken and taking us down a path leading to ruin. I fear hurting you in trying to do the opposite. But I want to…if you still do or ever did.” Astarion sighed again and it sounded a mix of morose and relieved. “However, I couldn’t keep this from you any longer, as much as telling you felt like a form of sabotage. It would have been unfair to you for me to keep this up.”

Áine’s musings to Shadowheart that night at the party bubbled up in her memory. Of fretting over a similar yet completely different fear. That she would ruin what was between them before it ever began. And now here he was, fretting he’d ruin what they had after it had begun but before it truly blossomed. They were quite a pair.

The bard leveled her gaze at him, unable to help the tears that she tried to manage by swiping her sleeve against her face. “I care about you,” she murmured, the tension in her throat coming through in her tone. “Deeply. But you know that.”

Astarion frowned. He did know that. Firsthand thanks to the tadpole. And in every gesture, every compliment, and every kind touch she’d graced him with, romantic and platonic both. “I do.”

“What do you want?” Áine asked him point blank, sniffling a little as she tried to get her weepiness under control.

The question, as ever, took him off guard. “I…,” he hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve had to decide what I wanted.” Astarion’s resolve seemed to renew in the square of his shoulders and the intensity in his gaze as he said, “I—I want to try. With you. If you’ll have me after all this, that is.”

Áine tilted her head a touch. “Astarion, if this is too much for where you’re at right now, I’ve told you before that those ‘friend-based feelings’ exist,” she said. “They’ve been well and truly archived, but I could dig them back out. I hate the idea of worsening the things you’re feeling because you mean to appease me with this.”

“Darling, I don’t mean to appease you. Or at least that’s not my sole reasoning,” he said, his rebuke gentle. “I’ve meant all I’ve said. I want us to be something real. If you can forgive me.” Something crossed his mind then. “Most of my unpleasant reactions arise when it comes to sex specifically. What we’ve done otherwise, I never needed or felt compelled to do before. That’s all new to me. And it’s wonderful.”

Áine nodded slowly, thinking. “So it would be helpful to you if we didn’t for a while? Have sex, I mean.”

Astarion pulled a face. “That seems a poor bargain for you, doesn’t it?”

“Not if it’s not for you,” Áine answered in kind.

“I think I just don’t want you to think of me in terms of sex. I don’t know if I want anyone to,” he admitted, giving a frustrated tsk at his own verbiage. “I don’t quite know what I’m saying anymore, I don’t know how I can expect you to understand if I—”

“No, I…,” Áine murmured, “I get it. More than you might expect.” She held his gaze, searching and vulnerable. “You’re more to me than your body, Astarion. You always have been. And if you don’t want to, then we won’t.”

Astarion looked a mixture of guilty and unsure. “I want to be clear that I do find you unbearably attractive,” he murmured. “And that every time that we have slept together thus far, I’ve wanted to. Even the first time got swept into an emotional affair for me as soon as it started. I just tried to deny it. Clearly, that didn’t work.” He chuckled. “But I do feel awful when those memories resurface while we’re together. So…as tough as it may be to abstain…”

Áine nodded in agreement. “It sounds like perhaps you need some time. And that’s okay. Have as long as you’d like.”

“Does that mean then that you’ll stay with me?” he ventured to ask, hope laying bare in his eyes. “Despite everything I’ve put you through? Everything I’m unsure I can give you?”

“The original intention set aside, you’ve not put me through much of anything,” she pointed out. “The rest unfolds with time if we let it. Believe me when I say that the pause on sex doesn’t bother me. I’ve always been strange in that way. At least it’s finally working to someone’s benefit.”

“Strange?” he repeated. “In what sense?”

Áine shrugged and it was her turn to be embarrassed again. “Most people seem to want more in that regard than I ever have. I’ve spent years trying to understand it, but it’s just how I’m wired,” she explained, her gaze falling to her kneecaps. “I only want to do those sorts of things with someone I care for. I don’t really experience attraction otherwise. Things like one-night stands or romps with strangers have never appealed to me. So, at least in comparison to everyone else I’ve ever met, I’m a bit strange.”

Astarion measured her response. It added more context to his understanding of how she liked to navigate her relationships at least—he’d thought she was just one for long-term love interests in a general sense, but she couldn’t feel attraction unless she was invested, it seemed. And now knowing that her “yes” that night at the party had also meant she already cared for him so much…

“I see,” he said, pensive as he looked her over and noted the way her eyes timidly shifted away from being studied. “I may not have always felt that way, but at least now, after everything… I find that relatable.”

She offered him a faint smile. “You’d be the first.”

Astarion inched forward, cautiously reaching out and taking one of her hands. He looked at her to ensure that he wasn’t doing anything out of turn, reassured as she squeezed his hand. “Honestly,” he murmured, an almost giddy smile touching his lips, “I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next.” He smoothed his thumb against her knuckles, his other hand coming to stroke along the veins lining the back of her hand. “But this? This is nice.”

Áine’s features softened. “It is.” She sighed and gestured toward herself with her free hand. “Come here, you sweet man,” she mumbled, pulling him into her lap when he shimmied forward, starved for affection but not sure what she wanted him to do.

Astarion laughed, wary of letting his full weight rest against her. “I’ll crush you, you cheeky little pup,” he mumbled, but ultimately relaxed and let his cheek rest against the top of her head. He was infinitely grateful for the comfort of her arms around him. She still wanted him. He could hardly fathom it.

“I’d like to see you try,” she muttered in response to his fretting, gratified when he leaned into her and nuzzled her hair. It almost brought tears to her eyes again how adorable he could be when it was just them. He’d already come such a long way in opening up around her and she only wished that it would continue, more for his sake than hers. She just felt honored to witness it. “I’m pretty sturdy still, even if I’ve been out of rank for a while.”

“No doubt,” he murmured against her crown. “But could you take a vampire? Now that, my darling, is the most interesting question.”

Áine tilted her head back to peer up at him, a challenge gleaming in her eyes. “Spar with me some time and find out. Just for fun.”

Astarion snorted softly and dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Deal.”

It still sent him reeling that he could engage in physical affection, in touch, without it needing to be sexual. It was intimate yet not carnal. When what held him back or sent him into quiet dissociation wasn’t a years-old trigger or that familiar bile of self-loathing, he sometimes found himself holding back because he defaulted to sex as a means to express all degrees of affection and wanting. He didn’t want to “default” to anything with her—he needed to form new inclinations like seeking a handhold (which he was getting better at) or a hug.

Astarion briefly remembered telling Karlach just weeks ago that he wasn’t a hugger and scoffed softly at his foolishness. Perhaps he wasn’t with anyone but Áine, but at least in that regard, so far he was. As if to prove it to himself or practice new motions, he raised his arms from his lap and looped them around her shoulders, pulling her close. Her arms tightened around his waist, one of her hands tracing up and down his side.

In his euphoria, he felt some startling words start to bubble up from his heart, but he stalled them before they could tumble out. Red eyes widened and, out of her view, Astarion found himself reeling all over again with new things to fret over. Gods, she truly has been sent to ruin me.

“I would stay like this all night,” Áine said, jarring him from his panic, “but I don’t think my back would ever recover if we did.” Her features grew serious as she pulled back to look at him. “Thank you, by the way. For trusting me. Again.”

Awkwardly, Astarion inclined his head, his mouth opening and closing like he’d considered something to say and thought better of it. Áine took his silence with grace—it was hard to open up. He huffed a sigh and surprised her when he said, “Well, thank you. For… Well. Everything.” Astarion met her eyes, his expression a bit more dreamy. “You’re…well, you’re full of surprises. Aren’t you.”

It wasn’t particularly a question and it made Áine’s blush return. They sat like that a while longer until it was clear that Áine wasn’t long for this conscious world and Astarion finally moved and let her up. She was brushing herself off when she glanced up and found Astarion hesitating near his tent, looking like he wanted to say something again. She took a glance around and guessed at what ailed him, asking, “Do you…want to cohabitate tonight?”

“I do,” Astarion said, combing a nervous hand through his curls. “But just…that. I’m sorry, I just…think we’re correct in taking a break from sex.” He sighed, his brow furrowed in pained frustration as he looked at the ground. “I’ve made this far more difficult than it should be.”

“You haven’t,” Áine assured him gently. “Even if we weren’t holding off, it’s not like that’s something we have to do every night anyway.” He peeked at her, looking unsure. “Just get comfortable, I’m going to grab a couple of things and I’ll be in. Alright?”

Astarion nodded and cleared his throat before he ducked into his tent. He hardly knew how this was helpful, he was just finding new ways to hate himself by putting her through this. No matter what she said, the guilt still hung over him, thick and suffocating. How long until she realized he wasn’t all she seemed to think? How long until she saw the full extent of the baggage he brought with him everywhere he went?

Áine didn’t take long to return to his side and he looked up to see her toting a few of the plush pillows from her tent and her blanket. He smirked at her, but the expression didn’t touch his eyes, and he could only be glad that her darkvision didn’t seem to be as good as his.

“Moving in?” he teased her as she set down the pillows and arranged them to accommodate them both.

“Problem?” she countered, collapsing on her work when she was satisfied.

“I suppose not,” he allowed. In reality, his dead heart was full to bursting.

“Good,” Áine remarked through a yawn as she got comfortable. She’d staked her spot confidently, but in truth, she’d worried about overstepping. His teasing put her somewhat at ease, but she still wasn’t sure what he was comfortable with. They were firmly back to testing the waters, which was always unnerving, but she didn’t mind because it was him.

They were silent for a while after Astarion laid down next to her and Áine was sure he’d gone into reverie until she heard him tentatively say her name. “Yes?” she asked, her immediate worry apparent in her voice.

“I…,” Astarion began and then retreated. “Hm, nevermind, darling, I’m sorry.”

Her brow furrowed. “Um… You sure?” she asked.

Another long pause. Astarion cleared his throat and murmured, “Would it be alright if… If I held you again? The way we did the other night?”

Áine smiled, blinking back tears as she turned on her side to reach out and pull him close. They adjusted around each other until they were in a perfect tangle again. This time, however, because Áine sensed perhaps he was the one needing to be held, she gathered him into her arms and kissed his forehead. He rested his head against her chest and felt something close to peace as he listened to her heart.

Gods above, she’d broken him. He considered that with some measure of horror as he felt tears well up in his eyes, tears he buried against her chest and in the crook of her neck. Her warmth and her pulse sang to him like her evening serenades and he sank into her with all the reverence of a prayer.

He was almost startled when she spoke again, pausing in tracing his little patterns against her back. “You can still drink from me tonight if you want to,” she mumbled, sounding utterly content and almost half-asleep.

Astarion’s brows rose. “I can?” he replied, giving an embarrassed cough to belatedly cover how shocked he sounded. “I mean, I… I just thought…” I’m not holding my end of our bargain anymore, he finished in his mind alone, not sure how to speak the words. How is this possibly fair to you?

As if reading his mind, Áine laughed softly and kissed his hair as her fingertips traced against the nape of his neck and the finer hairs there. “Nothing about this has ever been transactional, darling,” she murmured and he noticed that she didn’t put her usual spin of mimicking his drawl on the endearment. Perhaps she was too tired, but it sent a little thrill through him nonetheless. “And it certainly isn’t going to start being transactional now.”

A sigh eased from his chest. He considered thanking her but thought better of adding yet another one to the pile of the night, wary of those words of gratitude growing overused. Instead, he kissed across her neck before he bit down across his old marks, his eyes rolling back and his snowy lashes fluttering in ecstasy as her essence wept past his lips.

He was careful to stop well before he would’ve even caused her to feel lightheaded, but after licking the wounds closed, he drew back just to make sure she was okay…only to find her sound asleep.

Bleeding Hells, I refuse to start crying again, he swore inwardly, raising his fingertips to gently trace her features. To trust him enough to doze off while he was fangs-deep in her was…

…well it felt hardly deserved, but he’d never before felt such a tender ache in his chest.

Next chapter: Chapter 17, "Get Up"

34 notes · View notes

rays-of-fire-and-ice · 22 days

Text

The Music Goes On and On

Rating: K/General

Setting: in the decade before the main story.

Synopsis: Shinji is going about his daily life at his job in a music store, until he sees an old face from the past.

AN: the winner of my first poll! This was fun to write, so thank you to everyone who voted for it!

I hope I did Shinji justice here. He's a character I love, and I've always wanted to know what he and Visoreds did after escaping the the Living world and before they introduced themselves to Ichigo. I've broached the topic before in As Months Go By, As Season Change part II, but I wanted to write a specific instance of his life in the World of the Living. I had intended this to be more comedic, but well...it's me, and it ended up more angsty with one sappy moment.

In terms of research, I looked into Japanese 1990’s music and the workforce during the 1970’s. I'll briefly go over it here, but if you want to skip it and get to the fic, continue to the line break before the story begins.

For music, I mainly used information from this article about Japanese jazz bands, doing Youtube searches for 1990s Japanese music, and searching for what records stores in Japan typically look like.

The songs, albums, and bands mentioned in this fic are:

B'z: a Japanese rock duo who sold millions of albums during the 1990's. They're one of Japan's best-selling artists even to this day, having sold over 80 million albums. Sasori ni sasa reta by Kimidori Review by Glay: this was one of the best-selling albums in Japan for 1997, and sold over 2 million copies in it's first week. Casiopea: a Japanese jazz fusion band who have created over 40 albums as of the time of writing this fic. They've been active since the 1970's, and have gone through four phases with different band members; in this story, they're in their second phase. Light and Shadow by Casiopea Casiopea by Casiopea Yasuko Agawa: a Japanese jazz and blues singer. Before releasing her debut album, Love-Bird, in 1978, she starred in movies in the early 1970’s. This included the Bloodthirst Trilogy, a Japanese horror film trilogy that involves unconnected stories about vampires. Agawa starred in Chi o suu bara, which is the final film in the trilogy and it's title has been translated to Evil of Dracula in English. Love-Bird by Yasuko Agawa All Right by Me by Yasuko Agawa Scenery by Ryo Fuuki (also mentioned in As Months Go By, As Season Change part II)

In terms of the workforce research, I had to change the timeline in light of what I found. Rather than seeing a coworker Shinji knew from 30 years ago, it's now 21 years. This is because the store they worked at together, Yodobashi Camera, opened it's first store in 1975, and in this fic Shinji got a job with the company a year later. In it's early years, the stores primarily sold cameras and photography equipment, but eventually branched off into other technology and home electronics such as TVs and PCs. Nowadays it's online version is incredibly popular and one of Japan's most visited online shopping platforms. Why a camera store? I can't explain why, but I have this weird feeling that Shinji might've worked in a camera store at some point. Maybe because old camera's used to have inverted lenses, meaning they could be upside down (and we all know how Shinji feels about things that are inverted).

Finally, there's a slight joke with the name Shinji chooses to use here. From what I saw in my research, ‘Mako’ can use the same Kanji characters as ‘Shinji’, (which are ‘真子‘ and if I’m not mistaken have the same meanings of ‘truth’/’sincerity’ and ‘children’) but both names can also be spelled using other Kanji characters too (but it changes the meaning of the name). While ‘Mako’ tends to be primarily a girl's name, it seems it can also be a boy’s name too, and from what I can see, the spelling of it can be same for both boys and girls when using the same characters as ‘Shinji’. If I got any of this wrong, please let me know so I can change it. My sources for all of this were here and here.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this!

______________________________________

The bell above the music store’s entrance rings as the latest customer leaves. Shinji doesn’t glance their way, taking and unfurling a poster of B’z from his cart. After pinning it to the wall, he lifts out a box of CDs to restock the ‘New Releases’ display rack at the front.

Karakura Beats Records Store is empty save for him and Kana, who resumes pricing the latest shipment of vinyls behind the cash register. The morning sunlight pours in through the many posters and notices stuck to the windows facing out on to the quiet street, casting blocks of shadow over the many vinyls and CDs.

From the speakers high up on the walls, a tune he’s never heard before begins to play quietly through the air. Shinji drums his fingers on the CD rack to the tune in between stacking in copies of ‘Review’ – which will no doubt be gone by the end of the week if the hype around the album and the sales figures from other music stores are to be believed.

Eventually, he’s swaying his body to the beat too. “Yo, Kana-san!”

She looks up, her bright, dyed hair falling over one shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Which track is this?” he asks, still swaying as he tops up the rack the. “It’s a good one, I might buy the album if the rest is any good.”

“ ‘Sasori ni sasa reta’ by Kimidori.” She grins. “I knew I could get you to like something I like.”

“Didn’t think you’d like hip hop.”

“Not much of it, but I heard this one when I was in my last year of high school.”

Done with the CDs, Shinji returns to his cart and rolls it behind the cash register. “Ya done with those?” he says, pointing at the vinyls.

Sticking a price on the top one, Kana picks up the pile and drops them into the cardboard box that just had 'Review' in it. “Done now.”

He goes to pick it up, but blinks down at the cover. There’s three shadows on a white surface, and above them with is a de-saturated sky, and running along the middle is a dark lake and the silhouettes of hills and houses. The album’s title is in English, as is the band name. Even so, he recognises the name without having to read the blue slip on the vinyl’s side with a translation. “Huh, when did this come out?”

“In September. The old drummer came back, apparently.”

“Ya mean Jimbo Akira?”

“Yeah, but it’s got a guest drummer too.” Kana cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’m surprised you don’t know. You like Casiopea, right?”

Shinji shrugs. “Some of their stuff, sure. I can take ‘em or leave them, just surprised I didn’t know about this one.”

“They release something every year, right?” Kana says, moving on to the next stacks of vinyls and CDs to price. “Shouldn’t be too surprising.”

No, it shouldn’t. He’d been listening to their music since their self-titled debut album in 1979, and even though he’d lost some interest in their music by the late 1980’s, he still kept tabs on them. But then, even after being in the world for as long as he has, the passage of time is so different it sometimes escapes him.

Resisting the urge to shake his head, Shinji puts two other boxes of CDs and vinyls Kana had prepared into his cart, and rolls it down the right-side aisle.

Hecomes to a stop at his favorite section. Written above the display racks and cupboards is ‘Jazz’. When he’d started here three months ago, while he'd been impressed the store's collection was better than others he'd come across, the section had been smaller and in desperate need to of a wider range of artists. After showing his extensive knowledge about jazz and blues music had been one of the reason’s he’d been hired by he and Kana’s manager.

Aside from the usual roles in customer services, he’d been tasked with refurbished the store a little, putting up posters for bands and music artists on the walls and redoing the titles over each genre section. While doing the latter task, he had to withhold the temptation to write every genre name upside down – he’d tried to argue it would make them stand out from other stores, but backed down when Kana protested against the idea, saying ti would confuse customers.

The jazz section was his unofficial space in the whole store, the one where he got to arrange it as he wanted. The entire row against the wall has a wide variety of artists, from the famous to the up and coming to local talent. He goes to the where the rest of Casiopea’s discography is and clears a space for the vinyls.

The bell rings again. Kana greets their new customer from the counter and offers assistance. Judging from the voice that thanks her, the person is elderly.

Shinji doesn’t listen to the rest, but as he makes his way down the middle aisle to stack some vinyls and CDs in the ‘Rock’ section, the older man remains in his peripheral. He takes out the box, balancing it on the rack with his arm over the top, and unloads the vinyls two at a time into an empty space with the others. He frowns at the sensation in the back of his mind; something nags in the back of his mind, begging him to look at the man.

The bell rings again. This time by the sounds of it, it’s one of their regulars, a young woman who’s name doesn’t remember. She and Kana chatter away, discussing the weather and family. It’s so ordinary, so far away from all of the worlds he’s ever known. He hasn’t been in the Soul Society for decades, and yet there are times like now when it feels like only yesterday he was a captain.

With all the vinyls stacked in, he begins to lift the almost empty box back into the cart. However, his arm bumps into someone, clattering the records inside. Shinji turns to apologize, but his throat closes up involuntarily when he sees it’s the older man from before.

“Oh, sorry, please excuse…” The old man trails off.

Shinji frowns, that nagging sensation getting stronger now that he has a closer look at the man. He’s not as old as he thought. His hair is greying, but there’s still some dark hair on the top of his head and in his thick eyebrows. Wrinkles ring around his eyes and the ends of his mouth, but they aren’t deep, only just beginning to show more prominently. Behind his glasses, the man’s eyes are dark brown, and widened with probably the same strange feeling of familiarity as Shinji is experiencing.

Then, when the man tries to speak again, and his brows furrow into a frown, it hits Shinji.

He nearly has to bite his tongue from saying the man’s name aloud. “No harm done,” he somehow manages to say without any of the spiking nerves thrumming through him.

He tries to remain calm as he continues stacking the vinyls in, but he can feel the man’s – Keiji Mimura’s -- lingering gaze on him, even as he turns and pretends to browse the albums in front of him.

He has to get out of this fast. He can hear the cash register going; Kana must be ringing up the regular, which means she’ll be free any second now. He hoists the box back into the cart, planning to head back to the counter, then offer to take over the register for Kana. She’d go out on to floor, probably keep Keiji distracted and try to sell him some obscure rock album she likes. If he ends up buying the album, Kana will likely keep the conversation going all the way to register, get Shinji to move aside so she can ring Keiji up, and then he’ll be gone from the store, and Shinji’s life again.

Shinji doesn’t even make it three steps when Keiji speaks up behind him. “…Hirako-san?”

Shinji has no choice but to stop and turn around. In the face of the man’s shocked expression, Shinji somehow manages a smile. “Excuse me? Did you say something.” It sounds lame even to his own ears.

The man shakes his head. “Forgive me, it’s just…you look and sound like someone I used to know.”

It takes everything in Shinji to not drop the smile, but even then, the corners of his mouth twitch. How to get out of this?

He and the other Visoreds had managed to keeps their identities a secret up until now, switching jobs every few years, never getting close to any coworkers and never revealing anything about their personal lives. They mostly find work outside of Karakura Town in the major cities, countryside towns, and to a smaller extent the towns that surrounded Karakura. The commutes were a pain, but they needed to make a living and not expose themselves as being ‘ageless’ to local residents. This was his first job in Karakura Town, and it had partly been out of desperation when he couldn’t get another anywhere else.

He can dismiss Keiji, just treat this as an awkward encounter with an elderly man who had a case of mistaken identity. It happens, more often than he realized before being forced into the World of the Living.

It’s what he should do.

Later, as he's walking back to the warehouse and then while being lectured by the other Visoreds after telling them about his day, he will reflect on this moment where he chose to do something far more troublesome for himself.

Shinji’s widens his eyes, pretending to come to a realisation. “Ah! Wait. I think I understand your confusion.” He chuckles and shakes his head to himself for effect, leaving the older man bewildered. “I’m terribly sorry, sir,” Shinji continues. “Did you used to work with Hirako Shinji?”

“Y-Yes!” Keiji stammers out.

“Ah, ya see, he’s my father. I’m his son.”

The older man blinks, briefly scanning Shinji from head to toe. “He never said anything about children,” he murmurs under his breath.

Shinji pretends he didn’t hear it, remaining rooted in place, grin plastered wide over his face and a fisted hand on his hip. Seeing the man’s unfaltering skepticism, he bows slightly and holds his hand out to him. “I’m Hirako…Mako.”

Of all the names! He purses his lips and continues to stare at the ground, hard, as he inwardly begs, Please don’t think too much on it, please don’t think to much on it, Keiji-san, don’t think --

After a beat, the older man bows and shakes Shinji’s hand. “I’m Mimura Keiji. Forgive me for before, it’s just that you look so much like Hirako Shinji – your father, I meant.”

“That’s fine. I’ve gotten that quite a bit, actually. Everyone’s always saying I look like my old man.”

That gets a huff of a chuckle out Keiji; Shinji can’t tell whether it’s due to the comment, how informally he’d spoken, or how the way he spoke was identical to his 'father'. It's probably the latter.

Keiji lets go of Shinji’s hand and they both straighten back up. The store bell rings, briefly drawing Shinji’s attention to Kana. To his chagrin she doesn’t look his way, instead continuing her chat with their regular as she makes her purchases.

“I worked with your father a long time ago.” Keiji explains. “We were coworkers”

Shinji keeps his grin small as he returns his focus back to his old coworker. “Where did you work with him? The old man’s had a lot of jobs across his life.”

Keiji smiles. “So he said. We used to work at Yodobashi Camera together.”

“Ah yeah! He was a sales clerk there. He barely knew a thing about camera’s when he started, huh?”

Another huff of a chuckle broadens the old man's smile. “He learned on the job. I was no expert at the time by any means, but he even had to learn which button to press to take a picture.”

Shinji chortles, both from the memory and the embarrassment of those years. He’d been the World of the Living for several decades by that point. He’d known about cameras but was so concerned with training to control his Visored abilities and stay afloat money-wise he hadn’t ever learned about some of the most basic things for humans.

“He was all right with the other technology of course,” Keiji continues. “We often had shifts together. Every now and then we went for drinks at ‘The Golden Cup’ with everyone else.”

Despite himself, Shinji can’t help but grin wider as nostalgia flutters in his chest. He and the other Visoreds tried to maintain a certain distance between themselves and the cowrokers in whatever job they worked in. Regardless, on rare occasions, he’d indulge himself and go drinking with his coworkers. He did it more often with the employees of Yodobashi Camera than in any other job, and he’d never had a bad night out with them. They were a good bunch of hard workers who knew how to party even harder afterwards -- or at least as much as they could given that they all needed to wake up and go to work the next day.

“I -- He mentioned that too,” Shinji eventually says. “He always came home in a good mood after those nights, tripping over his feet."

Keiji gives a nervous snort. "I must admit, I did worry about how much he drank sometimes."

Shinji did too. He recalls the concerned pinch of Keiji's brows when he was about to leave, wobbling on his feet. He rarely got drunk, and he didn't always understand why he chose to get drunk with those guys.

"Nah, he was always sharp," Shinji says, "even when drunk. Heck, he could even play mahjong while drunk and still win." He let's Keiji's chuckle fill in the air for a pause. "He used to play that game with his coworkers too, right?”

“Ah, yes! I used to enjoy our games.” Keiji sighs. “It’s been a long time since then, and Yodobashi Camera has certainly grown bigger and bigger over the years.”

“Ya can’t escape them these days, huh? Feels like they’re at every railway station in the major cities.” Shinji leans back against the vinyls racks, trying to appear casual. “So, do you live in Karakura Town now?”

“Oh, no. My wife and I are visiting our daughter. I assume you live here?”

“Yeah, I moved here about a year ago.” A lie, so natural sounding from years of saying many more like it before.

He can sense the next question coming – something to effect of ‘Do your parents live here as well?’ – so he quickly continues, “It’s a small town, but there’s a few places I can recommend for visitors if your daughter hasn’t taken you to them already.”

“We only arrived two days ago. We visited one of the shrines with her yesterday. My wife and daughter are having breakfast at a cafe nearby. We’re planning to walk around the shopping district this afternoon.”

“All good ideas. There’s also Tsubakidai Park, it’s always nice to walk around there. There’s also a music performance happening there two days from now, local bands mostly.”

“Is there now?”

Shinji points to the most recent poster taped up next to the store’s entrance. He briefly glances at Kana, who had gone back to pricing the vinyls, but she’d stopped at some point, staring at their exchange. She eyes him with a raised brow. Her expression is asking him ‘Is everything okay?’

“See that there?” Shinji says, keeping Keiji distracted long enough to wink at Kana in reassurance. “It’s got the details for it if you’re interested.”

With a shrug and a good-natured roll of her eyes, she returns to her task.

Keiji nods. “I’ll be sure to look at it on my way out.” Turning back, he looks over Shinji shoulder. “Speaking of, I came here to get an album I was told would be here. I believe it will be under jazz.”

“Yeah? Which one?” Shinji asks as he leads Keiji to the ‘Jazz’ section.

“It’s often hard to find, but Umei -- oh, she's my daughter -- thought I should try my luck here. She said this store often sells music from older artists. ‘Retro’, she calls it.”

“She ain’t wrong.”

Keiji frowns thoughtfully when they stop in front of the rows of CDs and vinyls. He let’s out a sudden, ironic laugh. “Actually, now that I think about it, it’s from a singer your father introduced me to.”

Shinji already knew, and his heart squeezed for a moment. “Oh, yeah? Which one?”

“Agawa Yasuko.”

The memory comes to him. He’d gone drinking with Keiji and his coworkers, and they ended up discussing films they love. When the topic of The Bloodthirsty Trilogy came up, Shinji brought up how Yasuko Agawa had gone on to make music since then. Only Keiji was interested, and took up Shinji’s suggestion to go buy her debut album. He hadn’t seen someone as smitten with a jazz album as Keiji (and apparently his wife) was. They discussed her singing the next day during lulls at work, and for the first time in a while, Shinji felt relaxed, briefly forgetting the troubles that always weigh on his mind.

“Well, her albums are just here,” Shinji says, gesturing to the left-side display racks. “Were you after CD or vinyl?”

“CD,” Keiji says while steps around him. He bends over the CDs and thumbs through them. “You have most of her albums here.”

“It’s like your daughter said, we’re retro here.”

He takes out a copy of ‘All Right With Me’ with a grin. “This is the one! I listened to it last year, but haven’t been able to find a copy of it until today.”

“It’s a good one, she’s always had a great voice. I can recommend any of her albums, they're all good.”

“Ah, are you a fan of jazz music too? Just like your father?”

“Yeah, like my old man, jazz is one of my favourite genres. It never gets old.”

“He said the same thing.”

Then, because one of half of him is now stuck in the past, Shinji says, “My father mentioned you had a wife, a daughter, and a son. They doing okay?”

Keiji hums in ascent. “Yes, very well. I’m not sure if your father told you, but my wife, Kyoko, works in a bakery. She has worked in the same place for over twenty years now, and got promoted to manager five years in.”

“That’s incredible!”

Keiji nods firmly and returns to flicking through the albums. “She’s always been determined. Umei is a newspaper reporter for the local news here, and my son, Naoya, is an accountant in Tokyo.” He grins. “He’ll be having our first grandchild soon. My wife is eager to be there in the weeks before the baby is born, she already has gifts planned for him. He’s a lot like his mother, determined and hard-working. I have no doubt he’ll be a good father.”

Shinji has the sudden urge to reminisce with this man. To talk about their days in the store, where Shinji learned how to use a camera, and about their regular customers. To show he remembered the little details Keiji had told him about his life outside of work – how Kyoko would come to visit them with baked goods when she knew her husband hadn’t packed a lunch, or how happy he was about Umei’s first day of school, or when he was pleasantly surprised by Naoya’s sudden obsession with the new ‘Astro Boy’ anime. To talk about the music from that time, and see if he’d taken on other jazz and blues recommendations he’d made.

At Shinji’s silence, Keiji’s grin transforms into a bashful smile. “You’ll have to forgive me. I must seem like an old man rambling about my family and reminiscing about the past.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I get it. My old man worked at Yodobashi Camera over twenty years ago, and if I saw an old coworker, even if it was their kid, I’d want to talk about it.”

"Well, thank you then," Keiji says, “How is your father these days? I probably should've asked that first.”

Shinji knew it was coming, hovering over them from the moment Keiji recognised him without realising. Even so, the pit of his stomach plummets along with his grin. He’s at another crossroads.

He takes in the man’s features again. How the wrinkles gather deeper around his eyes and around his mouth as he speaks. The fact he wears glasses now, resting over the faint scar on his nose he got when he broke it during a high school baseball game – he’d tumbled after getting homebase and cracked it on the ground, Shinji recalls; it'd been a drunken confession made on one of the night he'd gone out with the coworkers.

He thought noticing age couldn’t affect him anymore. But seeing someone from his past, someone who he got along well with and truly wished the best for, it strikes something in him. He’d been a Shinigami for centuries, ferrying hundreds of Souls like him to the Soul Society. One day, Keiji will be met by a Shinigami when he passes on, and forget the life he’d lived by the time he gets to the Soul Society.

It’s then SHinji realises he's been living in this world for too long. That detachment, that knowledge that he was not like humans, has eroded over time, crumbling bit by bit, leaving only a thin slab behind. Hiyori was right; he should’ve left his job at Yodobashi Camera sooner. It's been one of the longer jobs he'd had, and he recalls trying to stuff down the bitterness of leaving it behind when he left on his last day.

It hadn't been right to drag Keiji along like this, for his own selfish whims of wanting to relieve the past. So he does the right thing this time.

Shinji looks off to the side. “He’s gone. So is my mother.”

In the pause, Keiji remains frozen in place, lost for words. “Oh, I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up…I had no idea.”

“It was three years ago. He and my mother were involved in a car accident.” Like all his lies, it comes out smooth and natural, like he is the son reflecting on grief he's only just overcome. He hates it.

Keiji shakes his head in disbelief. “That's awful, truly. I really am sorry.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to be. I’m sorry you found out this way.”

Keiji is silent again, staring at the ground for a long moment before raising his head. There’s a faint mist across his eyes. “Your father and I only knew each other at work, and on the occasions he came to drink with the rest of us. Even so, I could always tell he was a good man. He worked hard, but he always had time to help others around the store too. Not just his coworkers, but also the customers.” His smile faintly returns. “I always wondered what happened to him after he left the store. I always thought, though, that wherever he went, he’d do good work.”

Keiji always saw the good in others, and in a time where Shinji still hadn’t fully processed Aizen’s betrayal, he’d been wary of the man at first. He'd reminded him of his seated officer Genji Isawa: a hard worker who could bring a smile and laugh to anyone who met him. Maybe this is why he'd eventually came around to being a little less guarded with him.

In his last year with the store, it was only then he’d begun to take an interest in his personal life and the lives of his coworkers, whether it was the rowdy Takahiro, or the quiet but hard working Kaneshiro. In some ways, now that he thought about it, Keiji might’ve been the closest thing he’d had to a friend in many years. Still kept at a distance, still lied to, but still an echo of a friend, one he probably would've had in another life.

He can't tell him any of this, not without it sounding like he truly knew him rather than a son telling a father's old coworker what his old man thought of him.

He'd put what little detachment he still had between him and his past, but now it came bleeding through like a bruise. If only he knew he was speaking these words directly to him and not to the son he thought he was.

“Thank you,” Shinji says quietly, still unable to meet Keiji’s eyes completely. “He’d have appreciated your words a lot.”

A sombre awkwardness settles over them, only broken when the store bell rings. A young couple come in, with the woman goig straight to the ‘New Releases’ rack. Shinji looks to Kana, who now unabashedly just stared at the scene unfolding in the corner of the shop. She’s only distracted away when the man who just entered asks for assistance.

Keiji bows. “Thank you for your assistance and for listening to my ramblings today, Hirako-san. I’ll go purchase this now.” He rises, but doesn’t move to the counter. He hesitates to say something else, lips parting and closing. "And I'm truly sorry for your loss. You have my condolences."

Shinji can only nod. This will be the last time he ever sees Keiji. It’s just as well, given the emotions and reactions he’d undergone today. Who knew how he’d react to meeting some of his other old coworkers from his other jobs. If nothing, this has reiterated why he shouldn’t get close to any of the humans, not even asking them about or taking an interest in their personal lives.

But some part of him, a wistful part that he’d thought was buried under the cynicism and hurt of Aizen’s betrayal, urges him to do one last thing. His detachment tries to block it, but it shine through, clutching at his heart.

“Did my father ever tell you what his favorite record was?” Shinji asks.

Keiji frowns slightly and shakes his head. “He might have, but I’m sorry, I can’t remember.”

“Well, to be more accurate, it’s one of his favorite records.” Shinji takes a step backwards and scans the lines of CDs until he finds the one he needs. He fishes it out of the rack and presents it to Keiji. A copy of ‘Scenery’. “He loved it from the moment he heard it. I still have his vinyl copy of it.”

Keiji is slow to take the CD. “I’ve always been more into pop music, really. Agawa Yasuko is the only jazz singer I liked.”

“It came out in 1976, the same year he started working for Yodobashi Camera. He said that while listening to it, it’d remind of his life at the time, including his work and his coworkers. He always associated it with good memories.”

Keiji nods, and his smile returns, albeit with a sadder edge to it. “I’m glad, then.” As Shinji holds his hand out, planning to take the album and put it back, Keiji raises his gaze back to him. “In that case, I’ll be buying this too.”

Shinji let out a chocked chuckle. “Whoa, hey, I wasn’t trying to make a sale –”

“I know, but I want to buy this now.”

Keiji had to be guided by his sentimentality right now, this isn’t fair. Did he feel the need to listen to this to honor him? “Hey, look, it’s really not –”

“If you recommend it, and if your father would’ve recommend it to me, then I have no doubt I will enjoy it. I’m sure my wife would too. She also likes Agawa-san’s music, and a few of the other recommendations your father made.”

Somehow, that lightens the load on his heart. He even manages a grin. “Then in that case, it’s on me.”

“What? Oh, no, please, there’s no need –”

Shinji holds up a hand to silence him. “It’s no trouble. Think of it as a gift.”

Even as they walked to the counter, Keiji fretted about the idea. Kana is ringing up the couple, but as the woman counts out the money, she eyes Shinji and Keiji as they approach.

After serving the couple, Keiji comes up the counter and Shinji digs his wallet out of his pants pocket.

“He’s buying the Agawa album, the Fuuki Ryo one is on me.”

“Really, you don’t have to do this,” Keiji insists.

Kana only shrugs as she takes Shinji’s money. “If you’re sure.” She turns to Keiji with a smile. “Good choices by the way.”

Keiji hands her the albums and his money. While waiting for Kana to count up his change, Keiji reads the poster for the upcoming music festival. “I’ll tell Kyoko and Umei about this. I have a feeling they’ll be interested.”

“It’s looking to be a good line up this year,” Kana says while handing him his change and bagging his purchases. “They have a lot more local acts. It’s always good to support them.”

“Yes, it is.” He bows to her after taking the bag from her. “Thank you very much.”

She bows in return. “Have a good day, sir.”

Keiji then bows to Shinji. “And thank you so much, Hirako-san. I’m glad I got to meet you. Please, pay my respects when you next see your father and mother.”

Shinji bows in return. “Likewise, Mimura-san. I’m sure my old man would’ve been happy to see you today.”

Both rising, Keiji smiles broadly, before turning and leaving the store. There’s a still silence after the bell above the door rings. A few heartbeats later, Kana finally speaks. “What was that about?”

“One of my dad’s old coworkers,” Shinji says, ungluing himself from his spot and going back to get his cart. From across the store, he says. “My old man and I look a lot alike, so he thought I was him.”

“Huh,” Kana huffs. “That sounds like it’s be awkward.”

“It was, but…I’m glad I got to see him.”

Kana’s brows frown slightly, but she doesn’t say anything about him ‘seeing’ rather than ‘meeting’ him. “So long as you’re feeling okay about it.”

“Yeah, I am.”

The rest of the day continues as usual until closing time. The sky has turned to amber, with the last of the sun peaking out over the horizon, by the time Shinji and Kana steps out of the store.

After locking the front door, Kana spins to him and hitches her bag over her shoulder. She jerks a thumb in the direction of Karakura’s main shopping districts. “You want to go for a drink?”

She always offers, and just like every other time, Shinji shakes his head. “Nah, gotta get home.”

Kana shrugs. “Suit yourself.” Unlike other times, concern flickers across her expression. He’d tried to hide the sombreness that’d settled into him after Keiji left, but maybe he hadn't been convincing. Maybe he's losing his tough.

Kana bows. “Thanks for your hard work today. See you tomorrow.”

Shinji does the same in return. “See you tomorrow.”

They part ways, going in opposite directions.

Autumn is in the air, crispy in the wind that brushes against him as he walks the quiet streets of Karakura Town. The streetlight pop on, beaming down over him and the those either returning home or heading for a night on the town in the shopping district. He can blend in with everyone, dressed like them and walking like them, but never be one of them.

He never wanted to be, still doesn't, but like them, he'd let that small part of him, that sentimental part of him, get the better of him.

As he comes to the quieter part of town, getting closer to the warehouse, he contemplates quitting his current job. It's only a passing thought, one that he dismisses when he considers his and the Visoreds financial situation. Kisuke had been generous over the years for someone struggling almost just as much as them, but they can't rely on him.

They needed to make their own path back to the Soul Society. Back to Aizen, to take him down once and for all. The old fire returns in Shinji's, a determination he'd used to fuel his detachment form humans.

But he's been here for so long, more than a century now. He's been alive for too long, and been around humans for too long.

Their lives are so short; one moment they're here, and the next, they're meeting a Shinigami or another agent of death. Yet, he'd come to like some of the human's he'd interacted with over the decades. Keiji is clearly one of them, and for all of the grief today had caused him, he still can't deny he'd been glad to see him. But now he'd another person in his past, one he'll never see again.

And one day Kana will have to be one of those people too. He could still visit the store for next few years and get away with it, but there will come a time where he’ll have to stop visiting. And even then, he’ll have to watch himself more in public; Karakura is a big place, but there’s still a decent chance he’d run into her on the streets in the years to come.

When that time comes, she might wonder where he went, what he’s up to, or maybe she won’t. Maybe she’ll unintentionally spare him and move away, going back further north to be closer to her family and finally confess to that one highschool friend she sometimes calls on her breaks and still lives in her hometown. Maybe she’ll use the money she’s saved over the year for singing and guitar lessons, then start that rock band she’s always dreamed of and leave Karakura to go touring.

And maybe none of that happens, and she stays here until the end.

It’ll be a shame when it happens. Despite how small the store’s original jazz section had been, he always loved the store’s collection. He hadn’t found another like it in all his time in the World of the Living.

#shinji hirako #sosuke aizen #mentioned only #Visoreds #genji isawa #yes he makes a cameo here!#bleach #fanfiction #angst #on a side note #I'd like to think this was Shinji's last job while he lived in the World of the Living #that he stays at this job for the longest of any of his jobs #maybe even up until the year before the start of BLEACH's main story #he tells his manager he has to leave #and then several months later BOOM he meets Ichigo #and yes #I think Kana would wonder about him long after either she or Shinji leave the store

21 notes · View notes

lovebeinaprincessworld · 2 years

Text

Will you try? - Two

(Felix Volturi x reader)

After well over a year I finally wrote something to post again. I swear, I have so many ideas I’m just too lazy ahaha, anyway I hope you like it! This sorry will probably take a while to finish, but alle the parts have a kind off closed ending so it’s still satisfying to read if you know what I mean <3

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Masterlist

Description: After dealing with the Newborn Army in Washington, Felix comes home to you.

Warnings: Slight mentions of smut

1666 words

You’ve been living in the castle in Volterra for about four months now and Felix was away on a mission. At first he didn’t want to tell you what it was about, but after you got on his nerves enough he finally told you it was regarding the red headed vampire Victoria, who was after your cousin. Apparently she wanted to revenge her mate James that the Cullens killed after he bit and tried to kill Bella. And now Victoria was assembling a newborn army to kill the Cullens and your cousin. You were trying to wrap your head around how Bella managed to get herself into these situations for a long time now, since you were kids. But then again you were one to talk, living in a castle in Italy with your vampire mate. Maybe it was because you two were related.

You insisted on going with Felix, Demetri, Alec and Jane, but after a heated argument, Felix put his foot down and while you pouted, you backed down and stayed behind. So you lounged around in your shared room and binge watched a few shows, Heidi sometimes joining you when she wasn’t on duty. She was your closest friend in the castle, even though you had the feeling that Jane was slowly beginning to crack and warm up to you too, which got Felix speechless, as he’d known her for centuries and she still didn’t like him.

While you where watching (Y/F/S) for the nth time, your phone chimed. Hello my love, we just landed so I’ll be there in about an hour, can’t wait to see you, it read and immediately a smile lit up your face. You really missed him while he was gone, it’s crazy how it’s only been four months and you were head over heels in love with the giant vampire. Neither of you said the three words yet, but you knew it was because Felix wanted to give you time and not send you running for the hills. That’s great baby, I can’t wait! I missed you, you answered and threw the blanket off you.

It was already 8pm, but you still wanted to brush your teeth and look somewhat presentable when he arrived. That’s one thing you were always insecure about, vampires could see everything so very clear and detailed, every pore, pimple, hair. You were glad all the rooms in the castle were soundproofed, otherwise you’d probably had to go to the next restaurant to use the bathroom with the knowledge everyone in the castle could hear you otherwise. You were sure the vampires were happy about the soundproofed walls too, glad they didn’t have to hear each other all the time. Leaving the bathroom you sat back down on the couch and resumed your show, waiting for your mate to come back.

Half an hour later the door finally opened and an exhausted looking Felix stepped in, as far as vampires can look exhausted. You immediately jumped up from the couch, the blanket falling on the floor, and made your way over to him. “Hey”, you smiled and as soon as your eyes locked, a smile made its way on his face. “Il mio amore”, he replied and opened his arms for you to step into. Your face pressed to his sculpted chest, he embraced you and bent down slightly to put his cheek on your head.

“Are you alright?”, you asked, muffled by his chest. “Now that I’m back here with you, I am”, he answered making you giggle. “You can be so sappy”, you smiled and you could practically hear him grin. “You know, back in my times people called that romantic”, he lectured you with a laugh and pulled you to the couch with him. Before your butt could hit the cushion, he sped to the coatrack by the door and took off his coat, before sitting right next to you. Even though you’ve seen him do this a thousand times already, your heart still skipped a beat. “I`ll never get used to that”, you breathed holding your hand to your heart. “Don’t worry my love, I mean at the bottom line your body is made to react to a predator like that”, he grinned and - just to prove his point you felt - was leaning over you a second later with his hands on either side of your head, your back pushed into the pillows behind you. And to his satisfaction your heart sped up again.

“You’re an idiot”, you laughed, lacing you’re fingers behind his neck, his smile shifting from playful to genuine. “Is this idiot finally getting a kiss though?”, he asked and with a smile you leaned up towards him, but he was already leaning down to meet your lips. Even though his body temperature was considerably lower than yours, you never felt more comfortable and at home than in his arms, with his lips on yours. You’ve kissed people before, but no one could ever come even close to the way you felt when Felix held your cheek with one hand, while slowly deepening the kiss. He was always like this, the perfect gentleman, especially compared to the teenage boys you’ve had experience with before him. But with his tall, muscular frame propped up above you and his tongue starting to trace your lips, you’d be lying if you’d say you weren’t thinking about more inappropriate things he could be doing with his tongue.

But if you tried to bring up the idea of having sex again, you knew exactly what he would say. That he’s afraid he’d hurt you - or even worse, not being able to control his own strength, especially with him being even stronger than a normal vampire (as if that didn’t turn you on even more). This seemed to be a vampire thing in general though, considering Bella told you Edward was the exact same when you last talked to her over the phone. It was good to have someone kinda being able to relate, especially to everything you had to give up. But all of that didn’t mean you wanted it any less. And it also didn’t mean you could control getting turned on by the attractive vampire on top of you, making Felix groan deeply and pull away.

“Damn you smell so good, you’re making this really hard tesoro”, he breathed, his hands clutching the fabric of the couch tightly while you laid under him flushed and panting. Taking another breath in, he clenched his eyes shut and buried his face in your neck with a moan. “Maybe that’s the plan”, you laughed breathlessly, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck making him sigh. “You know we can’t”, he whispered against the sensitive skin of your neck, your body almost reacting instinctively, clutching your legs together a little more. You could feel his body stiffen immediately. “I know, I know, but…we haven’t even tried, have we? And you seem to be in control just fine when we make out, so-“, you tried once again to convince him, your hands gripping the front of his shirt. “Love, there’s a considerable difference between making out and having sex”, he said smirking while pulling away from your neck and looking at you with those red eyes that made your knees weak.

“Yeah, yeah I know that, but-“, you tried again, but he immediately interrupted you with a slightly tense look: “What do you mean you know?” “Just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t mean I haven’t done anything before, we’re living in the twenty first century after all”, you said rolling your eyes at his possessive nature (trying to hide it also made you feel a certain way). This conversation wasn’t really going in the direction you wanted it to, because now he looked positively pissed off. You really did forget sometimes that his views and morals were from a different millennia, getting yourself in trouble once again. “Other men have…touched you before?”, he asked with a dangerously calm voice, his eyes narrowed on you. “Uhm…I wouldn’t say men, more like boys or someth…”, your voice chocking up under his fiery gaze, your hands slowly releasing his shirt while the hand on your hip tightened her grip. After staring at you for a few seconds with furrowed brows, seemingly thinking about something he finally opened his mouth: “Alright, we will try.”

You must’ve looked like a deer caught in the headlights, because he adds with a smirk: “Not today though, don’t worry amore.” Before you could muster up an answer he already claimed your lips again with a short, but passionate kiss before pulling back and leaving you breathless again. “If I’d known making you jealous would make it happen, I would have tried that months ago”, you giggled, beaming up at him with joy. “Don’t get your hopes up love, I can’t promise you anything”, he said with a serious look, shifting you both so that he was laying on his back with you on top, your head comfortably against his shoulder.

“I know, thank you for trying though baby”, you smiled, pressing a small kiss to his neck. He hummed, his eyebrows furrowing again slightly. “I really don’t like the idea of other men touching you”, he shared his feelings making you giggle slightly. “Don’t worry my love, since the day I met you I knew you’d be the only touching me from now on”, you promised smiling, feeling him relax underneath you. He pulled the blanket over both of you, knowing he’s cooling you down.

“(Y/N)”, he quietly said while pressing a kiss to your head. “Mhm?”, you hummed, your eyes closed, satisfied with having him back in your arms. “I love you”, he whispered, making your heart skip a beat. You immediately pushed yourself back up, looking into his eyes completely stunned. Considering he was such a strong and tall man, he looked kind off unsure right now waiting for your reaction. But you didn’t even have to think about it, a smile forming on your face. “I love you”, you whispered back. His face relaxed right away and he was pulling you down to meet your lips in another kiss, this one more soft and gentle than the others.

——————

A small explanation as to why (Y/N) didn’t say “I love you too”: I read somewhere, a long time, that when someone says “I love you too” it feels like they’re just like accepting or confirming what the first person said instead of really meaning that they love the other person and it kind off stuck with me.

627 notes · View notes