Latest Posts by kitty-kei - Page 3

My husband won Christmas this year.

But then if that wasn't enough, he got this.

Holy shit you guys.

straight up let’s hear it for dry humping!!! wooohoo dry humping!!!!

gale doodles (goodles)

first drawing references this pinterest post !

edit: pinterest links don't work if you're not signed in, i've attached the original ref image below the cut and here's the vogue link. the designer is Guo Pei and the dress is from her fall 2019 couture collection

pinterest ux my beloathed

a way with words this person has

You know I enjoy something when I actually draw. Here are all my best friends beautiful eyes. I am very normal about this game.

inspired by this edit and this artwork

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

Overstimulating Thoma to See How Long He Lasts

Pairing: Thoma x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, edging, overstimulation, kissing, begging, cock riding, teasing, lots of cum, cute!Thoma

A/N: More Thoma cause he is so underrated.

Overstimulated!Thoma is a very compliant man. He will do anything for his eventual release, fuck you however you tell him, gradually but surely lose the bigness in his eyes to the dark lust, his eyes deep green while he fucks his cock into you, trying to keep it from shooting his cum into your pussy.

Overstimulated!Thoma doesn't want to beg you to let him come but it's hard to keep the whiney pleas all to himself. He sees how you ride his cock and how good you're feeling from it, he wants to feel good too. Telling him to come would make him feel really, really good.

Overstimulated!Thoma can't keep his voice down and he doesn't try to. You like hearing it so his hope is that if he can make you come enough time then you will also let him come, a kind of a win-win for you both. Unfortunately you know what he's playing at.

Overstimulated!Thoma lets his eyes roll back every time your pussy comes undone around his cock. He's using all his strength to fuck you while not finishing before its time. It's a losing battle in the long run but he at least wants to make sure he lasts longer then the last time.

Overstimulated!Thoma has to close his eyes at times in order to ground himself. Simply holding onto your thighs or ass isn't enough when the sight itself if breathtaking, your tits bouncing up and down in front of his face, his mouth open wide to let all his whimpers out.

Overstimulated!Thoma smiles when you kiss him, thinking he sees the light at the end of the tunnel, nearly there, just a few more thrusts... when you pull up and leave his cock without anything. His hips are still jerking up wards into the air, his eyes stinging with frustrated tears.

Overstimulated!Thoma finally begs you to get back onto his cock. He's so damn close, the tip of his cock is already dripping, the head red and the veins throbbing along the entire length. His voice is nothing short of broken when you cup his cock and guide it back inside your pussy.

Overstimulated!Thoma leaves hand and scratch marks on your thighs as you begin riding him again. His chest is heaving with every breath he takes like he ran a marathon. He can't take much more of this and you don't think he should have to.

Overstimulated!Thoma nearly bucks you off him when you tell him to come, his pace so fast and deep and desperate that you can hardly recognize your gentle, cheerful boyfriend. It seems there's no end to his orgasm. Each time he twitches more white, warm cum splashes at your womb.

Laid Out Traps

Astarion has many masterful ways with which he keeps seducing you - traps laid out masterfully for you to fall into. And you are eager to let yourself get dragged under. But this time you're pulling him down with you.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Well actually I wanted to write something else today, but here we are. Thoughts about how Astarion would continuously work on seducing you, making sure he's always on your mind didn't leave my mind. So enjoy some... not quite smut, but something sensual? Anyways, here goes.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: light smut, lots of tension, blood Wordcount: 3,1k ~~~

You were walking through some forestry bits during another day of crossing this godsdamned Mountain Pass. It had barely been half a day but you were already exhausted. The journey just didn't seem to ever get any easier. Hopefully there would a break soon and you'd find some peace to calm your body and sort out your mind a little. Your thoughts had been running rampant for a while now and you were thankful for a moment away from the others when you could just let go a little.

Astarion - and therefore the reason why your mind was so scrambled - walked behind you. And he was also part of the reason why you felt so exhausted. Not only because the two of you had made it a frequent habit now to steal away when the others had gone to rest. But also because no matter how often you had found your way into the vampire’s arms, your thoughts never seemed to stray far from the pale elf. The hunger and need for the other never really sated.

It very much wasn't the kind of thing where the anticipation and the buildup had held all the magic. It hadn’t been merely a fling where the urge was overcome and then matters were dealt with for good.

No, much rather the more often you sought his embrace the more tightly wrapped his hold on your mind was. And you were beginning to feel that it might not even stop with his claim over your body and mind. At some point you would have confess to yourself that the sassy vampire, whose eyes sometimes were universes away with sorrow, had firmly snuck his way into your heart.

And Astarion took every opportunity to seduce you, to lure you in. Wrapping his strings tighter around you.

You were well aware of it.

He'd laid himself out as bait from the very beginning. You had known. At least you had very quickly been sure that he wasn't just after a body to lose himself in. Therefore, his ways were way too elaborate.

And also there were those moments when you were with him when it seemed he wanted to be anywhere but. But his focus always snapped back. Especially when you were trying to address these moments of absence.

Then he'd usually double his efforts, desperately trying to make you forget whatever thoughts had just sprung to your mind.

And unfortunately, he was masterful at that.

A master at deceiving you, luring you in and then keeping you trapped, being an addiction. It would probably not end well for you. Most vices didn't.

But you just couldn't stay away - neither from the way he held you but also from just… him.

A break was announced at some ruins you'd come across. Everyone seemed relieved. You set down your backpack and stretched when you felt a light touch at your back.

You turned to see Astarion who was lightly touching your shoulder. He gave you a knowing smile while his hand was quickly wandering down your arm with his fingertips finding some bare skin as quickly as possible at your wrist. The vampire's red eyes with a barely noticeable lifted eyebrow were an open question - or a promise rather.

His fingers in the meantime had moved to ever so lightly loop around your wrist. Not holding your hand of course, but it felt pretty intimate nonetheless. His lips were slightly parted, the tip of his tongue running over them absent-mindedly.

Your eyes immediately darted to them, then back to his gaze. Astarion's eyes were sparkling now in the midday sunlight and his mouth grew into his signature smirk.

This was exactly how he did it, how he caught you time and again: he made a game out of it, an adventure. Touching you when the others weren’t paying attention, letting his hand linger just long enough for you to feel a little heated, saying something playful that completely caught you off guard, sharing a stolen glance which always was a promise for more, for later.

Once he’d left you a little note in his narrow elegant handwriting with a line of poetry the two of you had once talked about. You still had it neatly tucked away under your armour - close to your heart. Sometimes you took it out to just look at it. Asking yourself how it could be if he always left you notes like that. You were hopelessly lost.

He had a thousand little ways of keeping you on your toes - or on your knees, much more -  and you were so prone to comply.

You were enjoying it, the way he turned it into this back and forth as if you were forbidden lovers: trying to hide away your attraction while finding as many moments to get lost in each other. It made it all the more titillating and intense.

You were absolutely sure the others knew anyway even if it was merely talked about in innuendos. But this didn’t stop Astarion from playing his little games with you. And you really didn’t want him to stop.

And so you also followed your lover this time, coyly throwing a glance over your shoulder to check if one of the other’s might be noticing. Then you let yourself be led around the ruins until you were around a corner of a former building. There was nothing much there but some underbrush and smaller blocks of former buildings.

Astarion had let his hand wander further until it had covered yours completely. And immediately when you had rounded the corner the vampire lifted your hand while he turned to you and with a few rash steps made you walk back until he had you up against the remainder of the wall.

He pressed your joint hands up against the stones next to your head while a predatory but auspicious grin had crept onto Astarion’s face. The vampire lowered his head as his gaze darkened and he took you in - lips, eyes, the hammering pulse at your throat.

His hips were pressing into yours, immobilising you against the stone wall, and the fingers of your joint hands were now laced - his thumb softly caressing yours lovingly despite the pressure he applied to trap you there with him.

The moment he’d pushed you against the wall, your former storming thoughts had been silenced and almost disappeared completely. Now you could only focus on the sensation of his closeness. Your lips were parted in anticipation already, your heart racing, a pleasant kind of tension was forming in your lower stomach.

You too took him in for a long moment, trying to burn this into your mind: the way he looked at you with his unique red eyes - almost from under his eyebrows -, soft lips curled into a cocky smile, the tips of his fangs noticeable, some of his silky white curls falling in his face, the curve of his high cheekbones that became even more noticeable when he slightly turned his head.

Astarion lifted his other hand to your face. He cupped your cheek for a moment, then let the back of his hand lightly stroke down your face. The gesture almost seemed too innocent in contrast to him having you pinned against a wall. Your eyes just widened more at him.

Then finally, his long fingers settled under your chin, his thumb placed on your chin, forcing you softly to tilt your head back while he moved in closer still.

“Shouldn’t you be careful who you follow into the woods?”, he whispered teasingly in a low voice.

His thumb was on your bottom lip of your already open mouth now, stroking over it as you let out a gasp. He was so incredibly close now too. Your hot breath must have moved over his cool skin. There were no thoughts in your head, only the feeling of the vampire being so impossibly and deliciously near - if only he moved like an inch or two closer.

“I wouldn’t want you to get trapped”, Astarion whispered again, drawing out the last word. His thumb tugged your bottom lip down now with quite some pressure before he let it slip back. Another gasp - almost a moan - left your throat.

“Maybe I am already trapped”, you managed to whisper in response. You earned a low chuckle and saw how the vampire’s eyes lit up and his grin grew broader - pronounced canines now fully on display. Your throat was dry, all of your hairs felt like they were standing on end in anticipation and your heart felt like it might give out any second. He slowly closed in on you, pupils dilating even more the closer he came - a hunter closing in on his prey.

And then he finally bridged the remaining gap, pressing his open lips to yours.

You immediately rewarded him with a deep moan. Your free hand was desperately trying to find hold on his armour to pull him even closer while your other was still firmly held in place.

Astarion’s tongue almost immediately slipped into your mouth, searching for dominance you willingly gave him when you welcomed his eager open mouthed kiss.

It wasn’t tender this. It was a powerplay - but it was full of burning hot passion. Fires were set ablaze in your lower body and the earlier tension was now making your whole body hum, sing for being graced with his attention.

The vampire moved so one of his legs pressed firmly between yours, almost forcing you up onto your tiptoes. Being even more immobilised, you were held at his mercy: indeed stuck in his trap - and you liked the place you were in.

The kiss was all tongues and teeth. Heads moving around while your mouths never left each other. Breathy groans and gasps were exchanged while his hand at your chin moved to your throat, fingertips pressing lightly onto your thrumming pulse before they wandered up again to outline your jaw, slightly applying pressure. With that he made your head tilt back even further.

Astarion eagerly claimed your mouth as his while pressing his body against you and you against the stone wall that pleasantly twinged at your back. If he wanted you right here and now there wouldn’t be a moment of hesitation. The water wasn’t even up to your neck anymore, you had well gone under and were happy to let go completely.

But after long moments Astarion withdrew from you. Instantly, you almost slumped down against the wall. Partly because of Astarion not holding you up anymore but mostly because he’d devoured almost everything of you with just a kiss. Knees were wobbly as you tried to catch your breath. Your eyes fell on Astarion who had taken a few steps back and was looking at you. His crimson eyes were wide with arousal, his breath a little ragged too. But he was still very much in control - the chase was only paused, not ended.

“Tonight then?”, he simply asked with an eyebrow jumping up.

This godsdamned bastard - turning you almost into a puddle with some kissing and now this audacity. He’d returned to his familiar stance, not one fucking hair out of place, breath already returning to normal. As much as you enjoyed this all, this game, the teasing, the nightly rewards. The asymmetry was all of a sudden making you mad.

Astarion cocked his head and blinked at you several times, with a sassy expression on his face still awaiting your response. He knew exactly what he’d done to you - smug arsehole.

A thought formed in your mind. You immediately jumped to the execution before you could second guess yourself.

You cocked your head just as he was still doing. Then you started to saunter over to him. Your gaze was locked onto his as you tried to not let your intention show on your face.

For once, just once, did you want to be the one leaving him flustered and in desperate need for more.

Astarion’s smug facial expression shook slightly the closer you came. For a moment you thought you even saw a slither of fear and worry run over his face. But this surely must’ve been an illusion, right?

His eyes became wide and round. Probably unbeknownst to him, but yet another thing that made you fall for his trap harder. Whenever the vulnerable person beneath all the sultry jokes and the perfect mask showed you wanted nothing more but to keep him safe.

But this wasn’t your focus now.

You shortly stopped before him, staring into his open eyes. Then you stepped closer even until you were almost touching him and you could take in his smell again. He gasped silently, all while his gaze never left yours.

And then your hands shot up, grabbing his face, pulling him to you once more in a kiss. You made him do the same thing he’d done with you: with your body pushing him back step by step. Then when Astarion’s boot heel hit a low stone of the ruins, you gave him a little push, so he landed with his butt on the stone.

You immediately followed, pressing your legs to his shins and knees so he wouldn’t have a way to get up - trapping him.

Heat was coursing through your body as you looked down on him now.

Astarion was breathing heavily now through his open mouth. He held your gaze - his expression surprised but not scared. If anything it was dominated by hunger now, demanding to be fed.

And so you did: sitting down on his lap, straddling him with both your thighs firmly pressing around his hips, ripping a low groan from him. Immediately you ground against him, already feeling his hardening arousal.

You grabbed his face with both hands and without hesitation pressed your mouth to his once more. This time you were in charge, your tongue playing with his and exploring his mouth.

Meanwhile Astarion’s hands both moved to cup your behind, squeezing your butt with splayed fingers, earning him your moan.

One of your hands went to the back of Astarion’s head, gripping some of his curls so you could pull back his head some more and shift your weight on his lap. You were leading this, you had him pinned - and you were keen to draw out the moment.

Your other hand caressed his face, fingers spreading, then wandering over one of his pointy ears, softly tugging, caressing and teasing - rewarding you with what could only be called a pleading whimper.

You rolled your hips again while your lips were still eagerly moving on his, not letting up, not giving Astarion a moment where he might take charge again.

Again, you were ready to just go all the way. Strip down bare here and now and just give into the carnal need that threatened to consume you both - but where would be the fun in that? And also you had been taught by a master.

Your last coup was to drag your tongue slowly along Astarion’s teeth. Feeling the sting of the vampire’s sharp fang as you drew your tongue along it.

A coppery taste flooded you for a moment; you’d drawn blood. Good, just as you had intended.

Of course Astarion had also immediately tasted your blood. His grip on you immediately intensified. A low growl rumbled in his chest when your taste hit him.

Your eyes that had been closed for the passionate kiss, flew open when you heard the vampire’s sharp intake of breath. His eyes were open too now and you saw how the black of pupils almost drowned out the red of his irises.

You gasped as you were eye to eye with the predator. Shortly asking yourself if it had been a good idea to wander willingly into his arms - his trap, as he had said before - and offer yourself up so eagerly.

Because this was also when the tides turned again.

One of Astarion’s arms looped around you while his other hand went up to grab your face. He pulled you even closer as he shifted his weight. Your hands slipped from their grip in his curls and went to simply cup his face as the vampire leaned you back.

He held your face in his firm grip as he groaned and deepened the kiss even more, eagerly trying to taste you fully. His tongue ran over yours as he was claiming your mouth once more.

He was leaning forward so much now as he eagerly sucked up every last delicious drop of you that you were arching your back, leaning back into nothing but thin air on his lap. Held in place only by his arm firmly looped around your waist and his hand pressing your face to his.

But soon every last drop of you for that moment had been abundantly tasted and devoured. One carnal desire - if not filled - at least postponed to a later time. Leaving one other still.

The kiss had slowed a bit again. But you still felt Astarion’s and your own arousal pretty evidently. The one tasted pleasure had fueled the other. But you had always only planned to tease him. To give the vampire a taste of his own medicine.

You arched your back once more to press your body against his harder one last time. Meanwhile you dragged his bottom lip between your lips just for a short moment, making the vampire groan and squeeze you against him harder, one of his hands on your butt again.

But then - at the height of your eager teasing - you withdrew. Startling Astarion so much with how you just swiftly got up from his lap that he simply let you go.

His eyes were still wide and he was obviously still feeling the rush of tasting your blood and from the kiss. His chest was lifting time and again as he was obviously desperate to regain composure. Besides surprise, admiration snuck into his gaze and into the smile he offered you now while he leisurely leaned one of his arms on his knees. His white curls were now thoroughly dishevelled as you noticed with satisfaction.

You were very much pleased with yourself, especially since resisting the urge had been no easy feat and you could still feel the need to grab and feel Astarion right this instant. But for once you had turned the tables - having the hunter end up in the prey’s claws just this time.

“Tonight then”, you answered Astarion’s previous question with a smirk. And then you turned and left your catch struggle. To return to it at a later time - and finish the job.

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

BLOOD ORANGE (full)

Description: You get your period during your adventure and anxiously wonder… can Astarion tell? Why is he acting like that? Looking at you like that? Smut ensues. (Takes place before you’ve ever slept together.)

Rating: Explicit, +18, MDNI

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader

Warnings: anxiety, sexual tension, mild blood, period sex, vampire biting, blood drinking, teasing, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, porn without plot, fluff and smut

Wordcount: ~7k (~3k just smut)

Read on AO3 or below the cut ♥

Something discomforting interrupts your sleep.

Sensations filter into consciousness - stars, crickets’ songs, the hard earth beneath you, and the smell of your now ashen campfire. A dull ache and heaviness spreads down your back and through your pelvis. It's a familiar feeling; it's just your period, though that isn’t much consolation at the moment. It still might as well be a stab wound.

You shift your weight with irritation and curse to yourself. Of all the times for this to happen, now was particularly annoying. During the day, you could've found something to distract yourself. But now, you’re expected to sit still among all your peacefully sleeping companions with nothing to dampen the pain. It's already starting to feel like knives carving into your body from the inside.

When this happened weeks prior, you were able to pull Shadowheart aside and she was happy to cast a spell to alleviate the pain. Part of you would like to ask her for that again now, but you don't get the sense you’re close enough with her to wake her at this hour. It wouldn't be the end of the world... but your pride and anxiety insist that it's just not an option. She did, however, give you a blood-catching cloth that you could use for next time. That was nice of her. 

You clutch at your sacrum when another painful sensation rakes through your insides. You ache to change clothes and be alone so you can groan and stretch in peace. There's bound to be a clearing in the forest not far from here where you could do that. Carefully pulling some supplies from your pack, you excuse yourself to go find such a place.

After hobbling through the woods for a few meters, the perfect spot comes into view. The trees are dispersed widely with large patches of soft grass creating space between them. Dew is already starting to blanket the ground. This will do. Undressing from the waist down, you notice a small stain of garnet blood has already marred your underwear. You change into clean clothes and put the blood catching cloth in place, wincing and groaning dramatically as you do so.

Finally, you lie down in the cool grass and release a deep breath, finding some comfort in at least being alone. But the cramps still painful and debilitating. Stretching usually helps you ease the gnawing and clenching of your muscles, so you cycle through a few positions for several minutes. You end up on all fours, arching your spine and dipping your navel toward the earth. You sigh with relief and find yourself almost growing sleepy again . . .

"Having a midnight romp, are we?" 

A silken voice hits your ears and sends your head spinning behind you.

Astarion stands at the edge of your forest sanctuary. He gently leans against a tree with his arms loosely crossed. He wears his usual camp clothes and a simpering expression.

"Ah, it's just you." Your bristles lower when you register the voice and see his familiar face. You rearrange yourself into a more dignified seated position. "Stalking me then, are we?"

"I wouldn't call it stalking so much as just following a loud, clumsy woman a few paces outside of our camp. Curiosity got the better of me," he says with some playfulness.

You smile a little. Quips like that used to annoy you, but you've grown quite fond of his sarcasm and banter these past few weeks.

"Well, you have found the loud, clumsy woman. Sorry if I disturbed your rest. I tried to be quiet," you say.

"Please, it's not like I need any more beauty sleep," he teases.

You smirk at him but say nothing. Your insides recoil a bit when you feel the temptation to agree. Truthfully, you've developed something of a 'crush’ on him, and it's reaching a certain point where you’re not always sure how to respond to his silly or suggestive comments. His roguish good looks and vicious aura don't help; he is indisputably attractive. Dangerously so.

But, a love affair is the last thing you want to further complicate your tadpole predicament with, especially with someone who can be so unpredictable. At least, this is what you tell yourself when the thought arises.

Besides, you don't want to stroke his ego too much. You've already been letting him feed from you nearly every night under the guise of 'I need you stronger for battles,' but truthfully… you enjoy it.

You enjoy the rush of adrenaline and the atmosphere of closeness that comes when his lips wrap around your neck. The sharp shock of pain that melts into a cold pleasurable tingle in your veins. You also like seeing the aftermath play out in his features. It always seems to have a very restorative and rousing effect on him. The way his mannerisms and expressions change after drinking from your body; It does something to you that you’re not quite willing to admit. 

"You know," he says, forced to break the silence. "I was a bit surprised you didn't invite me for a bite tonight... Not that I’m here to beg!" His hands raise in mock defense and he smiles sheepishly. "I just... well, you may have spoiled me a bit." 

A short laugh escapes you and you glance away shyly. "It's just been a busy day. I didn't mean to leave you hanging." This was the truth. "Besides, I’m not feeling very well so it's probably for the best. I likely wouldn't make a very good meal."

"Oh, I don't know..." he says trailing off. The corner of his lip twitches.

You notice something's a bit weird about him tonight... weirder than normal. He’s smiling but it seems off - an edge behind his cool exterior. Over these past few weeks, you've seen so many different expressions on his face but this one you don’t recognize. He’s also never sought you out to ask 'why not tonight?' when you didn't extend an invitation in the past. And it seems out of character for him to do anything that could be interpreted as desperation.

"What's got you feeling so poorly?" he asks almost sweetly.

"Just some stomach cramps," you say flatly and divert your gaze again. Annoyed he's making you elaborate on a potentially embarrassing situation. You regret mentioning feeling unwell in the first place.

In a tone that doesn't sound all that genuinely concerned, he sings, "Oh dear, I hope you're not the first of us to come down with some nasty food poisoning."

There's an ounce of breathiness to his voice - provocative as usual. But normally his torso and arms sway about expressively when the two of you chat. Those sweeping arms and gratuitous body language are now replaced with just the tiniest lift of his heels from the ground when he speaks. His arms folded over his waist, tightly, unmoving.

His stillness unnerves you. It also seems out of character for him to offer help... or pry…

You notice his eyelids are soft but his stare has so much potency behind it.

A sharp realization finally pierces your mind. You do recognize this look.

Gods above, so caught up in mulling over your infatuation and reading his cues that you didn’t even consider…

Does he… does he know you’re bleeding?

Can he smell you? 

Of course he can.

He's like a shark when there's a bloodied scene nearby. He always makes a point to mention it so the rest of us will be on guard during our travels. 'There's blood in the air.' 

You recognize this look from the first night he tried to bite you – suppressing his urge to devour you.

Ice in your veins.

You swallow thickly.

Detaching yourself from the thought as quickly as possible, you huff and try to squash the present discussion with some good old-fashioned beating around the bush.

 "Okay well... it's not a stomach cramp per say, um… I don’t really think you would relate. The important thing is I can promise it won't come to affect you too," you say curtly.

You can feel yourself blushing, your chest a bit tight with anxiety. If he didn't sense it before, then he must know now. This topic usually provokes some disgust and awkwardness from people who don't experience it, but you've never given thought to how a vampire would react. Which seems ridiculous now, considering you've been letting one feed from your neck nearly every night for weeks now. Your mind screams the last part silently.

"Ah, say no more," he says politely, seeming to understand your hints. "Forgive my nosiness."

You’re relieved the reaction isn't an unpleasant one. "It's fine," you reply quickly. "I just needed to find somewhere to groan in peace."

"You're sure it's not ceremorphosis?" he jests, feigning nervousness. He knows it isn't, but it lightens the mood. "You'll have a hard time convincing Lae'zel that it isn't." 

"Do githyanki not have periods?" I ask with genuine curiosity.

"Oh I have no idea. And I do not intend to ask." 

You'd find it funnier if you weren't so uncomfortable, but it does clear the last fragments of tension in the air. As if on cue, a sharp pain suddenly hitches your breath and makes you wince. Now that the hellcat's out of the bag, you don't bother masking your discomfort.

Astarion clicks his tongue and quickly apologizes when he sees your face contort. He takes a hesitant step towards you and then seems to root himself in place again. 

“It’s okay," you say through pinched features. “A nuisance. I’ll be fine by morning.”

"I suppose I should give you your privacy then,” Astarion drawls out rather slowly. His eyes skim up and down your body intentionally before he turns to leave. He wears a similar smile to the one that befalls him after feeding on you – the same one you’d never admit does wicked things to you.

"If I can be of any assistance to you tomorrow, please... let me know," he says over his shoulder. “Sweet dreams~”

~

The next morning, Shadowheart aids you. She insists you can wake her next time. She won't mind. 

As you venture forth, you can’t help but think back to the last time you had your period during your journey and how Astarion might (must…) have smelled you then too.

It was early into your travels, no more than 24 hours after surviving the nautiloid crash. You remember cursing to yourself about the timing, but there aren’t any memorable details beyond that. Any aches and pains were likely overshadowed by the daunting threat of ceremorphosis and energy spent getting to know your new companions.

You try to specifically recall Astarion's demeanor during those few days, but it's hard to remember anything outstanding. He was terribly reserved for the better part of a week when you started travelling together. ‘What’s there to tell? ...It’s all rather tedious.’ Only after his vampirism was exposed did he seem to strike up more conversations and wear more emotions on his face. But you do eventually remember an exception…

His façade seemed to crack when you stumbled upon a gory scene of bloodied gnolls and hyenas. His demeanor was suddenly strange and turbulent when you stood amongst them. Surrounded by piles of mutilated flesh and impossibly wide puddles of blood, even your less-attuned senses were saturated with the metallic aroma. He was trembling, gasping almost through each sentence. Desperate to move on and away from the area once we’d killed them all.

You remember thinking in the moment that he seemed more shaken up than you would’ve expected. And his comments about the overwhelming smell of blood... it seemed to disturb him more than anyone else – even though he’d given off the impression he was no stranger to violence and killing.

Now, you realize it wasn’t the carnage that disturbed him – but his own frenzied hunger.

The thought sends a shiver down your neck. There are some scaled similarities to his behavior then and his behavior now when he feeds from you. He all but vibrates with energy before supping on your blood. He does a decent job at hiding it, but you still notice his breathing is ragged and his hands tremble when he goes to drink from you. And afterwards, he sways and laughs generously as though he's single handedly polished off a bottle of wine. It affects him like a drug, and you can’t help but wonder what it must feel like. You can’t help but wonder if it’s stimulating in other ways too.

~

When you're back at camp for the night, you have some red wine with the others to wind down. Two glasses in, you realize you’ve avoided talking to Astarion as much as you normally would today. A bit of guilt drips through you when you walk past his tent. He stands there now, the moonlight framing his elegant shape while he lazily thumbs through ‘The Roads to Darkness.’ Your eyes linger too long on the notch between his collar bones and the veins that swim up his forearms. Your feet bring you closer to him even though you have no plans of what to say.

He notices you, smiles, and closes his book to greet you. “Hello, my dear.”

 “Good evening, my friend~” You’re surprised at your own confidence, then you remember the wine.

“You seem in high spirits,” he cocks an eyebrow. “Perhaps I should have imbibed some of that Blackstaff after all.”

“Oh, you didn’t have any?” You’re surprised. He usually partakes.

“No, I’m afraid now might not be the best time to let my inhibitions~ get the better of me.” He looks at you suggestively. “Maybe in a few days… when I’m a little less distracted."

You’re once again confronted with the embarrassing reality that he might (must… your mind insists. He must…) sense the blood between your legs. It seems like he wants you to know it too. The thought shoots an arrow through your abdomen – pleasure laced with fear. You’d be lying if you said the thought of Astarion’s mouth moving below your neck didn’t occupy your mind at times. Would he enjoy tasting your blood mixed with the nectar of your arousal?

You give in to the thought momentarily, leaving you at a loss for words. Asking him exactly what is distracting him fills you with too much uncertainty to speak.

After several more silent seconds the only thing that comes to your mind is an invitation. A familiar one.

Hesitation cleaves between your mind and mouth. The offer you used to extend so effortlessly now sits heavy on your tongue. All the bravado the Blackstaff gave you earlier is gone in an instant. A thousand thoughts echo in your head at once before you feel the words finally spill from your lips:

“You can feed on me tonight if you want.”

He holds your eyes calculatingly for a moment before replying in a hushed voice. "Oh darling, only if you're sure you're feeling up to it. I wouldn't want to put you out, considering your condition." His tone feels genuine, warm even.

"I’m sure,” you say in an elevated pitch. Your mouth is so dry.

"Alright... well you know, we could meet in that same little plot you sniffed out last night. If you're still having trouble sleeping, of course."

You do not give yourself time to speculate what this could mean. The thought of being alone with him again makes your heart flutter violently. You feel as if you’re floating away from your own body when you hear yourself say, "That sounds good." 

He smiles. A glimpse of his tongue pressed between his teeth. "Until later then."

~

You lie awake in your bed roll, eyes glued to the night sky.  Your companions have surely all fallen asleep by now. It feels like you have waited an eternity.

You try to talk yourself down from the heady excitement bubbling inside you. There's no reason to react this way – you’ve done this plenty of times now. We're just doing it a different spot tonight, you tell yourself.

Nothing is going to happen. You’re just reading into things too much.

At no point in your conversations with Astarion did either of you express a want to be intimate, yet you feel the palpable anticipation of that possibility. How ridiculous. You’ve made assumptions about his intentions because of your little crush. That’s all. A fleeting interest, and one he likely does not reciprocate.  

Your anxiety surely has you overthinking his reaction to your period as well. This kind of blood is probably completely different from the fresh blood he’s always sniffing out anyway. It’s not like you’re bleeding out from a stab wound… even though it may feel a bit like it.

You glance at Astarion lying in his bedroll across the campfire. He lies curled up on his side so you can’t see his face – odd for him to sleep in that position. You climb to your feet quietly and make your way to the forest clearing. Your body feels much lighter than it did the evening before, disorienting-ly so.

It only takes a few moments to reach the grassy area from last night. Perhaps you’re walking a little faster than usual.

Attempting to relax, you elect to do more stretches until your companion arrives. It will help clear your mind and relieve any lingering muscle tension the cleric’s spell no longer helped with.

Before too long, Astarion’s footsteps can be heard approaching. He makes a bit of noise on purpose to alert you of his presence this time. You’re relieved he doesn’t choose to sneak up on you again. He catches you uncurling from a stretch when you see each other.

“Well, well. You remind me of a cat. So languid and flexible,” he says.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you laugh.

“You should.”

So forward. Your insides turn over at the affectionate notion and the sultry tone of his voice. It seems to undo all the self-talk you endured earlier.

“You remind me a bit of a cat too,” you tell him. “Nighttime prowls, stalking your prey and sneaking up on them…” Your tone is playfully pointed.

“Oh please! I didn’t startle you again tonight, did I?” he scoffs.

“No, just an observation. A compliment.” You can’t help it.

This earns a smile from him. “That’s very kind.”

The air waits expectantly for you to break the silence next.

“Should we…” you motion awkwardly toward the ground. Going about things this way is new.

He knows your meaning and doesn’t force you to finish the sentence. He simply graces you with another devilish smirk and follows your lead.

~

Strewn out on the forest ground is a blanket you brought from camp. You lie back on it and go to offer your neck, turning your nose to the side. Your heart beats quickly and your mouth secretly waters in anticipation. He kneels beside you and supports himself on his hands. But while descending toward you he pauses halfway down. You feel his silence and stillness stretch on longer than expected.

"Perhaps we should give this pretty neck of yours a break," he says quietly.

Surprised (and disappointed), you start to turn your head to face him, expecting him to pull back so your eyes could meet. Instead, he comes in close as if he still intends to bite you, blocking your movement.

Lips hovering just above your neck, his breath blooms down your chest. His upper body brushes against your breasts ever so slightly, sending warm electricity down your midsection and scattering through your abdomen. You stay melded together there for long seconds.

Does he mean...?

"What are you suggesting?" you finally ask breathlessly.

"Don't pretend you don't know." He hisses and peels himself up to find your eyes. There’s a small edge of urgency to his voice. "The - tsk… "

"...The scent of blood on you has driven me mad the past two nights," his voice wavers.

Of course...

You almost want to apologize, but the fact that he’s just confirmed your suspicion is staggering. You feel as though all the blood’s been drained from your body in an instant, and he hasn’t even bitten you yet. You’re frozen, grasping for words in vain while you stare into his crystal red eyes.

"And it’s not just the smell of your blood,” he continues. “-intoxicating as it is. I can't help but notice how much I've... enjoyed your company lately. I've taken many moments to wonder what it would be like to… enjoy more of you."

The words send desire rolling through your body, surging deep in your chest and spilling into your sacrum. Astarion’s never shied away from directing flirty comments at you, but his tone is often flippant, bordering on disingenuous at times. Now though, his words feel truthful, vulnerable.

It’s exciting to hear him acknowledge the chemistry you’ve begun to share. The heavy trepidation your attraction once carried suddenly feels much lighter, replaced with a small spark of confidence. The forest feels as though it's condensed around you, holding you both in an impenetrable cradle – quiet, shielded from the rest of the world. It’s safe to name your desires and share them here.

And Gods, to know without doubt that he’s also wondered what it would be like to fuck you… it fills you with such a renewed lust for him; you can’t deny it anymore.

"Do you wonder that too?" he asks gently.

You swallow and whisper hoarsely, "I do."

He shifts his weight closer to you again. A spike of anxiety jolts through you when you remember what started this conversation – the smell of your blood… an alternative to your neck…

An obscene vision of Astarion’s face licking blood from your cunt flashes in your mind. Your hips curl instinctively at the thought. A piece of your mind shatters from the possibility of it becoming a reality.

"Then, what say you? Are you inclined to get a little closer? As soon as tonight?” he presses further.

Wordlessly you place a hand on the side of his neck, thumb stroking the corner of his jaw. His skin is surprisingly soft and cool to the touch. A mixture of excitement and unease floods your senses. It's so surreal to be here with him now when you've pushed away many daydreams of a moment like this.

“I would like that,” you admit.

He smiles at your affirmation and closes the gap between your lips. Arousal erupts from your veins once again when he kisses you. His lips are soft but with a tempest behind them. The desire in his kiss is tinged with melancholy, quiet desperation crashing against you. His tongue caresses yours in ways nobody’s has before. Both responding and leading. Moving along you like water currents.

He sinks into you to deepen the kiss. Your body responds in kind, free hand finding his waist and legs seeking to tangle with his own. Your bodies brushing against each other for the first time is almost too much to bear. If something as simple as this elicits such a strong reaction, you can hardly imagine how the rest of the evening will affect you.

His legs move between your own, his hips persuading your thighs to open. His body is so cool against yours, burning hot. The contrast makes you ache to press your core, the hottest place, against him. He must read your mind because he lets his full weight fall into you so your temperatures can mix. It’s now that you can feel he’s hard, pressed between your legs. He moans lewdly into your mouth as he steals your heat. The combination of stimuli begins to transform your arousal. Thoughts and time begin to slip from comprehension.

Your hands snake underneath his shirt to run your fingers against his midsection. You remove each other’s clothes and steal kisses between each garment. His hands skate up your obliques and trace circles around your breasts, making you arch into him like, well, a cat. You laugh to yourself.

He begins to slide down your body. You instantly miss having his pelvis pressed against your own. He drags his lips, tongue, and occasionally the tip of a sharp canine along your exposed breasts and midsection. His hands expertly unloop your belt and tug the pants off your thighs.

Gods, are we really doing this? The cool night air enveloping your bare skin sobers you a bit.

“Still sure you’re up for losing a little more blood?” Astarion whispers huskily.

You nearly choke on your own spit at the audacity.

“You really have a gift for disarming comments,” you tell him.

“Just making sure we’re on the same page,” he says while thumbing at the hem of your underwear.

 He must notice how tense your muscles are because he pauses.

“Are you comfortable?” he asks earnestly.

“I… you’re not grossed out?” you wince through the question.

He blinks at you in disbelief. The concern in his features morphs into amusement.

“Darling… I’m a vampire. Did you forget?” he jokes. "No, I am not ‘grossed out’. I may not know what it feels like, but I do know it’s perfectly natural and…" His voice lowers, "it's something I’ve always been quite intrigued by the possibilities of, if I’m honest with you.”

Yet another indecent sensation spreads through your body at these words. How interesting. Relief, pride, and curiosity tangle themselves in your mind and you can’t help but start to smile.

“Is that all you’re worried about?” he asks as if there was something else he’d expected.

You nod, “Yes. I want this.” To reinforce the words, your body language relaxes, open and willing for him. You’ve suffered in anticipation of this for nearly 24 hours and it’s time to give in.

“Please,” you whisper, driving the point home. He seems to like this.

“Good,” his voice hums and his dark smile returns.

His fingers return to caress your body and hook over the waist of your panties. He tugs at the hem, up, towards your bellybutton, skillfully maneuvering the fabric to tease you and manipulate your flesh without directly touching. You sigh and tilt your hips to encourage him. He peels the garment off agonizingly slowly, savoring every moment more of your skin comes into view, until they’re stripped from your legs and discarded entirely.

He strokes the pads of his fingers in circles over your mons veneris. They skate closer and closer to your lips, driving you to insanity. Your hips strain into him, begging for his touch to finally reach your clit.

Instead, his hands slip under your knees to lift and bend your legs. Powerful emotions of arousal, embarrassment, and euphoria crash over you all at once when he pulls your knees apart and looks down at you. You can feel the cool air against your wetness now, unsure how much is blood or transparent arousal. His jaw hangs open slightly, and you swear his pupils dilate to an unnatural size as he takes in the sight. The entire position makes you feel deliciously vulnerable. You tremble under his gaze and fight the nagging instinct to clamp your legs shut as he hovers over you. Even harder you must fight it as his elbows come to the ground and his head lowers down between your thighs.

His mouth encloses around you slowly and deliberately, as if lacing his lips around a wine glass. He presses his tongue firm against your wetness, immediately releasing a long, debased groan that shatters any of your remaining insecurities.

You've already imagined what his voice must sound like during sex (it's impossible not to) but the reality of its sound is more guttural and feral than expected. The sound waves resonate through your body violently and the pleasure is so great you think you might be dead.

Alas, you are very much alive, lying on the forest floor with a vampire between your legs.

Astarion laps at every curve, everywhere the colors red and pink have stained your skin and further. His tongue moves with purpose and heavy pressure, seeking to consume every bit he can. Teeth skim against your soft flesh every so often, but never hard enough to hurt. Just enough to make you feel like an orange peel he seeks to scrape every last morsel of flesh and juice from.

He clutches at your ass cheeks while he feasts on you, thumbs pulling your center apart. He’s apparently licked your thighs and lips clean, because now he only pushes his tongue inside you, fucking you mercilessly with it. Every so often, he pauses this onslaught to pet your clitoris with the tip of this tongue, making your hips spasm and core tighten. The rhythm he teases you in makes you wetter and wetter. It’s the perfect vehicle to coax more blood from your pussy and into his mouth.

He removes himself for a moment and leans forward to kiss you again, lips slick with saliva and slightly swollen from friction.

He tastes of so many things at once. Saturated in the copper cherry flavor of your blood and the seasalt of arousal, your tongues meet again and again. All this on top of Astarion’s own lingering scent, herbal and citrusy, your senses spill over with colorful stimuli.

“Still having any doubts, my dear?” he whispers through a kiss.

“No. Gods, no,” you answer.

"I could stay latched to you all day like this..." he pants against your lips. "I would clean up every. drop. for you." His voice drips with lascivious melody.

"What's it like?" you ask excitedly.

He grins at your question. He loves that you would ask him this.

"Intoxicating,” he breathes through his teeth. “You are the most sinfully delicious fruit I've ever tasted. As if your blood alone didn't already tempt me."

"Is it enough?" you inquire. "…enough blood, I mean?"

"There's no such thing" he says. "but… I have an idea of how to encourage more out of you." His fingers graze down your belly and knead at the skin of your pelvic bone again. The motion indirectly pulling the hood of your clit back and forth.

You moan unabashedly and your spine contorts, begging once again for his hand to go lower. This time, he obliges and uses two slender fingers to tease the contours of your vulva. When they slip between your folds, a silent cry hitches in the back of your throat. He probes at your entrance gently at first, pushing just barely deeper than before with every motion. You writhe against him, trying to remind yourself to breathe.

Normally you would savor such attentive foreplay, but right now it's torturous. It’s overwhelming to even watch what he’s doing; your eyes keep fluttering shut. Every time his fingers delve deeper your desire swells greater. When his knuckles finally brush against your ass, he curls his two fingers inside you over and over, quickly. They rub firmly against your sensitive upper walls, dragging more slickness out of you.  

The sudden pressure and intensity in his movements surprises you. It moves you to open your eyes just long enough to find his own. His gaze holds you down, you feel almost charmed, petrified, dominated. Unable to look away. Rutilant eyes stare deeply back at you while he possesses you – they hold so much intensity and desire, all while focused on you.

It leaves you a bit awestruck, to have him both create and witness your ecstasy. To know you. The moment feels unexpectedly intimate until his hypnotic eyes finally release you.

His mouth joins his hand, immediately working your clit with persistence while his fingers pump inside you. You gasp, and a laugh of disbelief bubbles out of you. The combination of touches makes you feel delirious. His tongue roves over you mercilessly and his hand quickens its pace. Every muscle in your body is taut and frozen in fire. Your eyes find the stars when you feel yourself start to come apart on his fingers.

"Please don't stop," you cry quietly.

He doesn't. His fingers continue to stretch your walls and thrust against your core, tongue quick and unceasing against your pert clit. Tears well up in your eyes as the intensity of sensation builds to a white crescendo.  It falls over you like glass shattering in slow motion. He groans against your pussy as you come, undoubtedly feeling it clench desperately around his hand. It’s so intense you can’t help but cry out and grasp wildly at his back. You don’t care if your voice reaches the campsite. He slows his movements to keep rhythm with you as you ride out your orgasm.

“Such a pretty voice you have,” he removes his fingers and kisses the inside of your thighs.

He makes sure you're looking when he brings his digits to his mouth and licks the red stain clean from them. There’s no hesitation in the action, he laps your blood from his fingers as if it's honey, or spilled wine. He licks your center again too, purely for his own gain now, just for the taste.

“Gods,” You shudder at his touch, still hypersensitive from the climax he wrought through you.

A little less clouded, your vision sharpens on his form. You admire how striking he looks below you. Shirtless, broad shoulders holding the weight of your thighs. Pale moonlight painting every muscle. Your eyes pathing from his sharp collar bones down to his toned navel. He looks so beautiful. Already, you desire him again. More of him. Your eyes land on his cock, still erect and straining against his trousers. 

“That was amazing,” you finally manage to say. “I don’t think I’ll ever have another experience quite like that one.”

“I certainly don’t think so either,” he looks proud of himself. “But must we speak of it in the past-tense already?”

“You’re right. I misspoke.” Your foot gently drags over his clothed erection, in case your interest isn’t clear.

He looks at you knowingly and brings a hand to his waistband.

“Oh, good,” he smiles and unwraps himself from the fabric. "You’ll tell me if it’s uncomfortable, right?"

You nod. “Just start slow, if you can?”

Your eyes widen at his exposed length. His cock is longer and thicker than you'd expected, which is saying something since your imagination was already kind to him. Filthy anticipation coils inside of you.

“Of course. I already intended to take my time,” he whispers lowly.

He hooks his palms under your knees and pulls you apart for him. His body looms over you and the head of his cock grazes your entrance, teasing you with every microscopic movement. He rocks against you in little pulses that make you whine and twist impatiently. He starts to enter you, a little deeper with each push, teasing you just like he did with his fingers, driving you insane.

You can’t take much more, mewling underneath him while he torments you. Fully withdrawing with every stroke, the tip of his cock re-penetrates you again and again in an agonizing tempo. Shallowly fucking you with disciplined control. Before long though, you see his expression start to lose composure.

He straightens up to a kneeling position and beckons you to lift your lower body up to meet him.

“Feet on the ground, darling,” he orders you sweetly.

He scoops you up by your ass and levels your entrance with his cock again. Your upper back still lies on the ground, your body in a half bridge pose, fully exposed to him.

He hoists you against him and sheaths himself inside of you, finally forgoing the teasing. You nearly scream at the sudden weight of him inside you, stretching the entire depth of your walls. His hands pull you up and down on his cock, thumbs tickling the inside of your hipbones where he grips you tightly. You lose yourself again as he fucks you, overwhelmed with elation and disbelief.

Astarion groans obscenely. You notice he’s transfixed on watching himself impale you, gradually painting his cock with your cordial. His eyebrows furrow seriously and his mouth falls slightly open, taking in the sight. He seems to lose himself too, and you find yourself with your full back against the ground again, his body covering you, still inside you.

“You still smell so irresistible.” A hand finds the base of your skull and clutches at your hair. He pulls and forces you to bear your neck for him. It sends a little jolt of fear through your body initially, but you relax into his grasp after a moment.

“Can't get enough?” you ask, just barely managing to show some cheek. He continues to fuck you gently through the exchange. Were his strokes any closer together, it wouldn’t be possible to form words.

“Never,” he hisses against your ear.

His lips graze down your throat, pausing to hover just above where he always drinks from you. “May I?”

“Do it,” you plead.

His fangs tease your skin for several more strokes before they finally drive through you, and as soon as they pierce your skin he fucks you faster. His cock beats against the back of your walls again and again. He moans desperately into your neck while he bleeds you. You’d call the sound pathetic, were it not for the way his teeth held you down like a predator killing its prey. Your cunt clenches around him tightly in response, mirroring his jaws.

The wound to your neck is just barely endurable at first, but it starts dissolving into pleasure almost instantly. Now coupled with the adrenaline of having sex with him, the feeling is near mind-altering. It hypnotizes you. Possesses you.

He drinks from you hungrily, sucking and gulping you down every few seconds. The wet sound of him swallowing can be heard right underneath your ear. You both whimper frantically into each other, ecstasy building quickly. His cock starts to hit you harder, stretch you wider. He unlatches himself from your neck, gasping for air. Blood drips from his lips and down his chin when you see his face. His pupils are blown out. It looks as though he’s trying to form words but they won’t escape his mouth.

He only manages a, “Gods… I’m…” before stuttering out a loud groan, abandoning his thought and dignity. You can feel him throb inside you eagerly, struggling against your muscles squeezing him in as he climaxes. He thrusts into you wildly a few more times before shuddering and cautiously falling into you.

His body covers you for a short moment, your chests rising and falling into each other as you both catch your breath. He then rolls himself off of you and lies by your side.  

“Apologies” he breathes out heavily, wiping blood from his jaw. “I lost myself there for a moment… I’m infertile, so no need to worry. But I should have told you.”

“That’s okay,” you whisper. You’d barely considered it - too drunk on pleasure to think rationally.

The sweet earthy aroma of the dampened grass drifts into your nostrils. Lying there naked, sticky and sweaty, anxiety slowly starts to creep back under your skin. No doubt this could complicate things going forward… especially if your attraction goes beyond the physical like you suspect.

You hear a wet sound beside you and turn your head to see Astarion licking his palm. His eyes meet you while he sucks at the skin between his thumb and index finger. He smiles and, to your surprise, gently pulls you into him. The smell of savory herbs and citron tickles your nose; his scent is already growing to feel familiar.

“I’d like to share a little more of your heat, if it’s alright with you,” he says quietly. His lips brush the hairs on your head.

“I’m happy to share,” you say through a smile, secretly delighted to be curled up in his chest.

His fingers trace your back lazily and you reflect on the past two nights (mostly this one). As amazing as tonight has been, the fear of your feelings growing stronger from this gnaws at you. But you gather the courage to push your insecurities aside. Testing the waters with a little suggestion:

“Provided we don’t die from being turned into mind flayers or some other horrors, I think we should do this again next month.”

You feel him smile against your crown.

“Why wait until next month?”

~END~

Thank you for reading :>

words to use when writing

Appetite:

craving, demand, gluttony, greed, hunger, inclination, insatiable, longing, lust, passion, ravenousness, relish, taste, thirst, urge, voracity, weakness, willingness, yearning, ardor, dedication, desire, devotion, enthusiasm, excitement, fervor, horny, intensity, keenness, wholeheartedness, zeal

Arouse:

agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up

Assault:

attack, advancing, aggressive, assailing, charging, incursion, inundated, invasion, offensive, onset, onslaught, overwhelmed, ruinous, tempestuous, strike, violation, ambush, assail, barrage, bombard, bombardment, crackdown, wound

Beautiful: 

admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, bewitching, charming, dazzling, delicate, delightful, divine, elegant, enticing, exquisite, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, grand, magnificent, marvelous, pleasing, radiant, ravishing, resplendent, splendid, stunning, sublime, attractive, beguiling, captivating, enchanting, engaging, enthralling, eye-catching, fetching, fine, fine-looking, good-looking, handsome, inviting, lovely, mesmeric, mesmerizing, pretty, rakish, refined, striking, tantalizing, tempting

Brutal:

atrocious, barbarous, bloodthirsty, callous, cruel, feral, ferocious, hard, harsh, heartless, inhuman, merciless, murderous, pitiless, remorseless, rough, rude, ruthless, savage, severe, terrible, unmerciful, vicious, bestial, brute, brutish, cold-blooded, fierce, gory, nasty, rancorous, sadistic, uncompromising, unfeeling, unforgiving, unpitying, violent, wild

Burly:

able-bodied, athletic, beefy, big, brawny, broad-shouldered, bulky, dense, enormous, great, hard, hardy, hearty, heavily built, heavy, hefty, huge, husky, immense, large, massive, muscular, mighty, outsized, oversized, powerful, powerfully built, prodigious, robust, solid, stalwart, stocky, stout, strapping, strong, strongly built, sturdy, thick, thickset, tough, well-built, well-developed

Carnal:

animalistic, bodily, impure, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, libidinous, licentious, lustful, physical, prurient, salacious, sensuous, voluptuous, vulgar, wanton, , coarse, crude, dirty, raunchy, rough, unclean

Dangerous:

alarming, critical, fatal, formidable, impending, malignant, menacing, mortal, nasty, perilous, precarious, pressing, serious, terrible, threatening, treacherous, urgent, vulnerable, wicked, acute, damaging, deadly, death-defying, deathly, destructive, detrimental, explosive, grave, harmful, hazardous, injurious, lethal, life-threatening, noxious, poisonous, risky, severe, terrifying, toxic, unsafe, unstable, venomous

Dark:

atrocious, corrupt, forbidding, foul, infernal, midnight, morbid, ominous, sinful, sinister, somber, threatening, twilight, vile, wicked, abject, alarming, appalling, baleful, bizarre, bleak, bloodcurdling, boding evil, chilling, cold, condemned, creepy, damned, daunting, demented, desolate, dire, dismal, disturbing, doomed, dour, dread, dreary, dusk, eerie, fear, fearsome, frightening, ghastly, ghostly, ghoulish, gloom, gloomy, grave, grim, grisly, gruesome, hair-raising, haunted, hideous, hopeless, horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifying, horror, ill-fated, ill-omened, ill-starred, inauspicious, inhospitable, looming, lost, macabre, malice, malignant, menacing, murky, mysterious, night, panic, pessimistic, petrifying, scary, shadows, shadowy, shade, shady, shocking, soul-destroying, sour, spine-chilling, spine-tingling, strange, terrifying, uncanny, unearthly, unlucky, unnatural, unnerving, weird, wretched

Delicious:

enticing, exquisite, luscious, lush, rich, savory, sweet, tasty, tempting, appetizing, delectable, flavorsome, full of flavor, juicy, lip-smacking, mouth-watering, piquant, relish, ripe, salty, spicy, scrummy, scrumptious, succulent, tangy, tart, tasty, yummy, zesty

Ecstasy:

delectation, delirium, elation, euphoria, fervor, frenzy, joy, rapture, transport, bliss, excitement, happiness, heaven, high, paradise, rhapsody, thrill, blissful, delighted, elated, extremely happy, in raptures (of delight), in seventh heaven, jubilant, on cloud nine, overexcited, overjoyed, rapturous, thrilled

Ecstatic:

delirious, enraptured, euphoric, fervent, frenzied, joyous, transported, wild

Erotic:

amatory, amorous, aphrodisiac, carnal, earthy, erogenous, fervid, filthy, hot, impassioned, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, raw, romantic, rousing, salacious, seductive, sensual, sexual, spicy, steamy, stimulating, suggestive, titillating, voluptuous, tantalizing

Gasp:

catch of breath, choke, gulp, heave, inhale, pant, puff, snort, wheeze, huff, rasp, sharp intake of air, short of breath, struggle for breath, swallow, winded 

Heated:

ardent, avid, excited, fervent, fervid, fierce, fiery, frenzied, furious, impassioned, intense, passionate, raging, scalding, scorched, stormy, tempestuous, vehement, violent, ablaze, aflame, all-consuming, blazing, blistering, burning, crazed, explosive, febrile, feverish, fired up, flaming, flushed, frantic, hot, hot-blooded, impatient, incensed, maddening, obsessed, possessed, randy, searing, sizzling, smoldering, sweltering, torrid, turbulent, volatile, worked up, zealous

Hunger:

appetite, ache, craving, gluttony, greed, longing, lust, mania, mouth-watering, ravenous, voracious, want, yearning, thirst

Hungry:

avid, carnivorous, covetous, craving, eager, greedy, hungered, rapacious, ravenous, starved, unsatisfied, voracious, avaricious, desirous, famished, grasping, insatiable, keen, longing, predatory, ravening, starving, thirsty, wanting

Intense:

forceful, severe, passionate, acute, agonizing, ardent, anxious, biting, bitter, burning, close, consuming, cutting, deep, eager, earnest, excessive, exquisite, extreme, fervent, fervid, fierce, forcible, great, harsh, impassioned, keen, marked, piercing, powerful, profound, severe, sharp, strong, vehement, violent, vivid, vigorous

Liquid:

damp, cream, creamy, dripping, ichorous, juicy, moist, luscious, melted, moist, pulpy, sappy, soaking, solvent, sopping, succulent, viscous, wet / aqueous, broth, elixir, extract, flux, juice, liquor, nectar, sap, sauce, secretion, solution, vitae, awash, moisture, boggy, dewy, drenched, drip, drop, droplet, drowning, flood, flooded, flowing, fountain, jewel, leaky, milky, overflowing, saturated, slick, slippery, soaked, sodden, soggy, stream, swamp, tear, teardrop, torrent, waterlogged, watery, weeping

Lithe:

agile, lean, pliant, slight, spare, sinewy, slender, supple, deft, fit, flexible, lanky, leggy, limber, lissom, lissome, nimble, sinuous, skinny, sleek, slender, slim, svelte, trim, thin, willowy, wiry

Moan:

beef, cry, gripe, grouse, grumble, lament, lamentation, plaint, sob, wail, whine, bemoan, bewail, carp, deplore, grieve, gripe, grouse, grumble, keen, lament, sigh, sob, wail, whine, mewl

Moving:

(exciting,) affecting, effective  arousing, awakening, breathless, dynamic, eloquent, emotional, emotive, expressive, fecund, far-out, felt in gut, grabbed by, gripping, heartbreaking, heartrending, impelling, impressive, inspirational, meaningful, mind-bending, mind-blowing, motivating, persuasive, poignant, propelling, provoking, quickening, rallying, rousing, significant, stimulating, simulative, stirring, stunning, touching, awe-inspiring, energizing, exhilarating, fascinating, heart pounding, heart stopping, inspiring, riveting, thrilling

Need:

compulsion, demand, desperate, devoir, extremity, impatient longing, must, urge, urgency / desire, appetite, avid, burn, craving, eagerness, fascination, greed, hunger, insatiable, longing, lust, taste, thirst, voracious, want, yearning, ache, addiction, aspiration, desire, fever, fixation, hankering, hope, impulse, inclination, infatuation, itch, obsession, passion, pining, wish, yen

Pain: 

ache, afflict, affliction, agony, agonize, anguish, bite, burn, chafe, distress, fever, grief, hurt, inflame, laceration, misery, pang, punish, sting, suffering, tenderness, throb, throe, torment, torture, smart

Painful:

aching, agonizing, arduous, awful, biting, burning, caustic, dire, distressing, dreadful, excruciating, extreme, grievous, inflamed, piercing, raw, sensitive, severe, sharp, tender, terrible, throbbing, tormenting, angry, bleeding, bloody, bruised, cutting, hurting, injured, irritated, prickly, skinned, smarting, sore, stinging, unbearable, uncomfortable, upsetting, wounded

Perverted: 

aberrant, abnormal, corrupt, debased, debauched, defiling, depraved, deviant, monstrous, tainted, twisted, vicious, warped, wicked, abhorrent, base, decadent, degenerate, degrading, dirty, disgusting, dissipated, dissolute, distasteful, hedonistic, immodest, immoral, indecent, indulgent, licentious, nasty, profligate, repellent, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, shameful, shameless, sickening, sinful, smutty, sordid, unscrupulous, vile 

Pleasurable:

charming, gratifying, luscious, satisfying, savory, agreeable, delicious, delightful, enjoyable, nice, pleasant, pleasing, soothing, succulent

Pleasure:

bliss, delight, gluttony, gratification, relish, satisfaction, thrill, adventure, amusement, buzz, contentment, delight, desire, ecstasy, enjoyment, excitement, fun, happiness, harmony, heaven, joy, kick, liking, paradise, seventh heaven 

Rapacious:

avaricious, ferocious, furious, greedy, predatory, ravening, ravenous, savage, voracious, aggressive, gluttonous, grasping, insatiable, marauding, plundering

Rapture:

bliss, ecstasy, elation, exaltation, glory, gratification, passion, pleasure, floating, unbridled joy

Rigid:

adamant, austere, definite, determined, exact, firm, hard, rigorous, solid, stern, uncompromising, unrelenting, unyielding, concrete, fixed, harsh, immovable, inflexible, obstinate, resolute, resolved, severe, steadfast, steady, stiff, strong, strict, stubborn, taut, tense, tight, tough, unbending, unchangeable, unwavering

Sudden:

abrupt, accelerated, acute, fast, flashing, fleeting, hasty, headlong, hurried, immediate, impetuous, impulsive, quick, quickening, rapid, rash, rushing, swift, brash, brisk, brusque, instant, instantaneous, out of the blue, reckless, rushed, sharp, spontaneous, urgent, without warning

Thrust:

(forward) advance, drive, forge, impetus, impulsion, lunge, momentum, onslaught, poke, pressure, prod, propulsion, punch, push, shove, power, proceed, progress, propel

(push hard) assail, assault, attack, bear down, buck, drive, force, heave, impale, impel, jab, lunge, plunge, press, pound, prod, ram, shove, stab, transfix, urge, bang, burrow, cram, gouge, jam, pierce, punch, slam, spear, spike, stick

Thunder-struck:

amazed, astonished, aghast, astounded, awestruck, confounded, dazed, dazed, dismayed, overwhelmed, shocked, staggered, startled, stunned, gob-smacked, bewildered, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, horrified, incredulous, surprised, taken aback 

Torment:

agony, anguish, hurt, misery, pain, punishment, suffering, afflict, angst, conflict, distress, grief, heartache, misfortune, nightmare, persecute, plague, sorrow, strife, tease, test, trial, tribulation, torture, turmoil, vex, woe

Touch:

(physical) - blow, brush, caress, collide, come together, contact, converge, crash, cuddle, embrace, feel, feel up, finger, fondle, frisk, glance, glide, graze, grope, handle, hit, hug, impact, join, junction, kiss, lick, line, manipulate, march, massage, meet, nudge, palm, partake, pat, paw, peck, pet, pinch, probe, push, reach, rub, scratch, skim, slide, smooth, strike, stroke, suck, sweep, tag, tap, taste, thumb, tickle, tip, touching, toy, bite, bump, burrow, buss, bury, circle, claw, clean, clutch, cover, creep, crush, cup, curl, delve, dig, drag, draw, ease, edge, fiddle with, flick, flit, fumble, grind, grip, grub, hold, huddle, knead, lap, lave, lay a hand on, maneuver, manhandle, mash, mold, muzzle, neck, nestle, nibble, nip, nuzzle, outline, play, polish, press, pull, rasp, ravish, ream, rim, run, scoop, scrabble, scrape, scrub, shave, shift, shunt, skate, slip, slither, smack, snake, snuggle, soothe, spank, splay, spread, squeeze, stretch, swipe, tangle, tease, thump, tongue, trace, trail, tunnel twiddle, twirl, twist, tug, work, wrap 

(mental) - communicate, examine, inspect, perception, scrutinize

Wet:

bathe, bleed, burst, cascade, course, cover, cream, damp, dampen, deluge, dip, douse, drench, dribble, drip, drizzle, drool, drop, drown, dunk, erupt, flood, flow, gush, immerse, issue, jet, leach, leak, moisten, ooze, overflow, permeate, plunge, pour, rain, rinse, run, salivate, saturate, secrete, seep, shower, shoot, slaver, slobber, slop, slosh, sluice, spill, soak, souse, spew, spit, splash, splatter, spout, spray, sprinkle, spurt, squirt, steep, stream, submerge, surge, swab, swamp, swill, swim, trickle, wash, water

Wicked:

abominable, amoral, atrocious, awful, base, barbarous, dangerous, debased, depraved, distressing, dreadful, evil, fearful, fiendish, fierce, foul, heartless, hazardous, heinous, immoral, indecent, intense, mean, nasty, naughty, nefarious, offensive, profane, scandalous, severe, shameful, shameless, sinful, terrible, unholy, vicious, vile, villainous, wayward, bad, criminal, cruel, deplorable, despicable, devious, ill-intentioned, impious, impish, iniquitous, irreverent, loathsome, Machiavellian, mad, malevolent, malicious, merciless, mischievous, monstrous, perverse, ruthless, spiteful, uncaring, unkind, unscrupulous, vindictive, virulent, wretched

Writhe: 

agonize, bend, jerk, recoil, lurch, plunge, slither, squirm, struggle, suffer, thrash, thresh, twist, wiggle, wriggle, angle, arc, bow, buck, coil, contort, convulse, curl, curve, fidget, fight, flex, go into spasm, grind, heave, jiggle, jolt, kick, rear, reel, ripple, resist, roll, lash, lash out, screw up, shake, shift, slide, spasm, stir, strain, stretch, surge, swell, swivel, thrust, turn violently, tussle, twitch, undulate, warp, worm, wrench, wrestle, yank 

Hurtful Words

Pairing: Astarion/AFAB!Reader

Mentioned Background Tadpolycule

Summary: In the months since Astarion left you, furious for refusing to help him ascend, you've tried to put your life back together the best you can. Your heart is broken, but you try to manage.

Astarion, meanwhile, stalks the streets by nightfall, hoping to find you again.

Warnings: Mild Smut 18+ content, hurt/comfort, break-ups, Astarion being bad at feelings (full list of tags on AO3)

A/N: You guys voted, and wanted to see the feely, hurt/comfort fic first, so here it is! It's been a while since I wrote this type of fic, so I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Word Count: 6885

AO3

"I'm done with this, and I'm done with you. I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming."

It had been months since you'd thwarted the Absolute, become the Heroes of Baldur's Gate, and yet, his words never left you. How his eyes that once held so much love for you were filled with a burning hatred, all because you refused to help him give up his soul for some foul, demonic power.

The others had given you space when you returned to camp. Astarion's tent was left untouched, clearly, he hadn't come back for any of his things. You weren't sure he even would.

Wyll and Karlach, sweethearts that they were, carefully kept prying if you really were as alright as you tried to make it seem. You weren't, of course, but their questioning soon became exhausting.

"Astarion wasn't the first person to love me," you had said, voice sure and steady. "And he won't be the last. I am in pain, for now, but it'll fade. We have more pressing matters right now, I'm afraid."

And you did. The tadpoles in your heads were still the greater threat - you couldn't waste any time crying over a breakup, no matter how much it hurt. You needed to get over it, and quickly, else you wouldn't be able to focus on the various crises at hand.

Some part of you was angry at him, too. You hoped it would make all of this easier.

So, the next morning, when you saw that Astarion's tent was still standing, undisturbed, you made a decision. You collected everything you owned that he had once given you, things that connected you to him. A shirt of his you liked to steal. A necklace he had pickpocketed for you. A blouse he loved seeing you in.

The ring you found in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, the one that matched with his.

You left those objects in his tent, scribbled a note to go along with it. If he decided to come back for his things, he'd find them - and if not, some other person may benefit from finding this. It felt like leaving a part of yourself behind - the part that loved him - to try and look forward instead.

With that, you told the others to pack up and move your camp.

You didn't know where Astarion ended up after the whole mess at Cazador's palace. You didn't dare to try and reach out to his tadpole, either. Your heart had clenched painfully as you watched the sun after you'd defeated the Elder Brain - you hoped Astarion could find shelter quickly enough.

But, that had been months ago. What was left of your group split up. You stayed in Baldur's Gate, having asked to be gifted a permanent home as thanks for saving the city.

You live alone, now. Sending stones connect you to the others, or they come to visit you. Scratch and the Owlbear keep you company, make your house feel more lively. You take odd jobs and occasionally help Rolan out at Sorcerous Sundries.

Hells, even Dalyria, Astarion's 'sister', sometimes comes by to check in on you. She's surprisingly pleasant company, and you can tell she's worried that you and her 'brother' are no longer involved. She tries to keep an eye out for him, but unlike the other spawn, Astarion never came to the Underdark. You usually talk research with her - enchanted things are just things with spells on them, so if the Ring of the Sunwalker exists, surely, there must be a way to replicate it.

Your life is quite mundane now. Sometimes you toy with the idea to follow Wyll and Karlach to Avernus, or to help the spawn settle in the Underdark. It was the one victory you had from that day, that you managed to wrench control from Astarion long enough to set the poor wretches in Cazador's dungeon free. You knew that, given how spiteful he could be, he would have let them rot forever after you refused to help him ascend.

On some evenings, you head out to the Elfsong Tavern for a drink. Sometimes, you even take someone home, but nobody ever sticks. You're not quite ready for something new yet. Not when your breakup with Astarion was so desastrous, and not now, when all your other lovers were scattered in the wind.

But, your life is okay. You're not starving, nor are you homeless, your fluffy companions are there to fill the void, and that is just enough for you.

____________

Astarion had been furious after what had transpired in Cazador's lair. He felt betrayed by you, of all people, and then, you had the gall to release the spawn when you had denied him his freedom.

He'd had no plans to return to your camp. He stalked taverns and brothels, indulging in his worst impulses now that he could chose to do so. It was the least he would do after you had refused him his ascension.

But reality kicked in as soon as the Elder Brain was disposed off. Astarion felt his skin burn to ashes in the sun and fled into the shadows, and as he cowered under whatever flimsy shelter he could find, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes at being condemned to the dark, again, he wished for nothing but your comfort. If you had been there, you'd have comforted him, soothed him, kept him safe from the sunlight.

He missed you. He missed you terribly.

Once night fell, he scrambled back to camp. It had only been a few days, surely, you would still be there.

His heart had shattered to pieces when he found his tent to be the only one left standing at camp, a hollow feeling settling in his stomach. Judging from the footprints around, you all must've left shortly after his outburst.

Astarion had resigned himself to simply collect his remaining things and start planning what to do with his new unlife. But then, he'd found the things you'd left for him, and the note.

Good luck on your new path, Little Star. Don't stray too far from the light, despite everything. I love you.

Even after everything, your final words of farewell were words of love, of affection. He'd expected anything else, something telling him that you hoped he'd burn in the sun, that some hunter would come and stake him. But no, even after he had wished violent death upon you, all you had for him was love.

Gods, what had he done?!

Astarion had sobbed into the note, into your blouse, until his voice turned hoarse, at the realization that you were well and truly <i>gone</i>. You had disappeared from his life, and he had no one else to blame but himself.

Seeing your ring had torn him apart once more. He remembered how you'd cheekily given him his ring, after you'd slipped on yours.

"There. Now you can keep me safe, too!"

Your smile had been infectious, even he couldn't resist joining in, no matter how much he wanted to comment on how cringeworthy matching warding rings were. But it also made his heart soar, knowing you were so willing to publically display that he was yours, and you were his.

He'd wished for nothing else, then, but to have you there, so he could return your ring to you.

Nowadays, Astarion is back to stalking the streets like a ghost. He has no proper home to speak of - Cazador's palace isn't an option, the other spawn would surely spurn him after his actions at the ritual, and unlike you, he wasn't a hero with gifts to reward him with.

He hasn't dared to try and reach out to any of your other companions. To be fair, he has no idea where everyone ended up. Astarion knows he'd easily find Gale if he travelled to Waterdeep - but the idea of coming crawling to Gale, of all people, makes him sick.

He never thought he'd be reduced to this again. Seducing people just to get a quick meal in. Getting on his back for breadcrumbs, once more. With you, he had painted a brighter future, the two of you often daydreaming about what you wanted to do once your tadpole problem had been resolved. You had thought up the most delightful things, thinking he could become a perfumer, or even a tailor, should you save up enough for a small shop. You would travel together to source the rarest ingredients or most exquisite fabrics, while you would brew alchemic concoctions or enchant objects for sale. You saw endless potential in him, while all he could dream of was having power. He never realized until now how little you actually cared for power. You wanted to be happy, and you wanted to share life's joys with him.

Even at the ritual, you had tried to see the best in him, had tried seeing everything he could be, but refused to see. He had thrown it away, your hope, your belief in him, and your love for him.

Astarion cowers in the shadows, once more, an ache in his undead heart he isn't sure will ever be soothed.

___________

It's Dalyria who tells him that you're still in town, and that you haven't run off with one of the others.

Astarion bumps into his sister one night while he's out on a hunt. Dalyria is just on her way back to the Underdark after having stayed with you for a couple of days. Their sibling reunion isn't the most euphoric, but Astarion is glad it's Dal he runs into instead of one of the others.

What nearly knocks him off his feet is that he can pick up your scent sticking to her. He immediately questions her on it - why the hells does she smell like you?

Dalyria would rather spare you from him. She'd heard the hurtful words he flung at you, and while you put on a brave face, she can tell you're still heartbroken over him. She can see it anytime you look at her. You very obviously associate her with Astarion, and though you value the friendship you have built, Dalyria clearly is a painful reminder of your lost love.

She leaves Astarion with nothing more than the information that you are still in the city. He wishes he could pry more out of her, but without the tadpole, she and him are evenly matched in power. He also knows that Dalyria will now likely lay low and not go to see you - she knows too well that Astarion would try and follow her.

Baldur's Gate is large, but he knows the city like the back of his hand. And if there's one thing Astarion has in abundance, then it's time. He'll find you.

He'll find you, and get you back.

___________

Find you he does.

Astarion sneaks into Sorcerous Sundries one day, in hopes of maybe finding a tracking spell he could use in his search for you. What he doesn't expect is to see you standing by the counter, arraging your alchemic concoctions neatly on a sales display, while you make idle chat with Rolan.

Astarion has to bite back a snarl. You seem chipper and happy in Rolan's presence. He also knows you're attracted to the tiefling - the two of you had taken Rolan with you for a fun little evening at the Last Light Inn, so many moons ago.

Are you his, now?

Thankfully, it doesn't seem this way. You are naturally flirty, in a way that doesn't always mean anything more serious. Astarion knows you love making people blush, so he files this away as you having a bit of fun with Rolan, nothing more, eventhough he seethes at how easily you fluster the haughty wizard with your sweet words.

Astarion sneakily follows you home. He's glad to see both Scratch and the Owlbear in your home - at least the little snacks have a safe place to stay, and they keep you company. They keep you safe. No burglar would dare enter a home guarded by a dog and an owlbear.

He doesn't approach you yet. He needs to plan this, think about what to do. What to say. A simple 'hello, again' would not suffice.

So, Astarion lays low, and stalks you the next few days. He's sure he must looks suspicious, covered during the daytime in such a thick cloak, but he doesn't care. He needs to know more about you, the city you, and the life you lead.

You don't do much, really.

At the beginning of a week, you head to Sorcerous Sundries to supply Rolan with new stock and collect payment for the sales made the previous week. Other than that, you take Scratch and the Owlbear on walks, and stay cooped up in your laboratory.

It is the evenings, when Astarion can be more active himself, that you actually do something other than your daily grind.

You head to taverns. Your favourite seems to be the Elfsong - you sit at the same table you used to sit with him at back in the day. You chat up other patrons, and let yourself be chatted up. There's no particular pattern to your partners, and you don't always leave with someone. Sometimes you just sit, and drink. Othertimes, Rolan, or any of the other tiefling refugees join you. Cal and Lia come by to try and lift your spirits. Dammon always seems ready for a long night of deep conversation.

Astarion watches you for a good few weeks. He toys with the note you left him - he's so close to you, now, he just needs to make a move. It needs to be one of the days when you're only in a drinking mood, but early enough in the evening that you're not drunk yet.

He makes his move on a night after you've had a goblet of wine. You'd actually brought a book with you, hoping to relax as Alfira is the bard performing tonight. Astarion glides through the movement in the tavern effortlessly, and sits down across from you.

"Could I buy you another drink?"

His voice is smooth as ever, trying his best to charm you.

You look up from your book. First, you look surprised, shocked, to see him. Then you seem as if you want to say something, but you swallow the words in favor of snapping your book shut and giving him a smile - though Astarion can tell you're anything but happy.

"I think not," you say, watching as he visibly deflates at your rejection. "I think I might have already overindulged, tonight. I may be hallucinating - you look like someone I once knew."

Ah, so it is to be a game. No matter, Astarion knows how to play along just fine.

"Oh? And is that someone a friend, or a foe?"

Pain flashes through your expression, gone as quickly as it came.

"I'm not sure anymore. Once, he was my dearest friend, the person first in my heart. Then, he told me he hoped I died screaming, and abandoned me." You toy with the rim of you goblet. Perhaps you did need another drink. "I'm not sure what exactly that makes us."

You take it as a victory that Astarion immediately looks remorseful. Some part of you wants to hurt him back, but what would be the point of that. It's only give you temporary satisfaction and lead nowhere else.

"Perhaps your friend was not in a right state of mind when he said those things," he reasons, a strained look on his face. "If you were to meet your friend again, it might be possible that he would want to apologise."

"Really? Aren't you an optimistic one. I'm not too sure about that. Apologising never was his strong suit. He'd rather lash out."

You can barely hide your scoff, and Astarion feels as if he's been stabbed. Perhaps Dalyria had been right in trying to keep him away from you. He never considered if you even wanted to see him.

He, once again, did not consider what you might want.

You sigh heavily. "Take me home, will you? Though I'd love to hear Alfira play tonight, I doubt I'll actually get much listening done."

Astarion stares after you as you get up out of your seat and make your way to the exit. He follows swiftly.

"How would I even know where you live?" He asks incredulously once you're both outside.

You don't bother turning to face him. "Really? You expect me to believe you just 'happened' to bump into me tonight? I'm not stupid. Knowing you, you've been stalking me for weeks."

"I did not!" Astarion protests. "This was pure coincidence, honestly!"

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that if it helps you rest easier at daylight." You shake your head. "Now, are you going to walk me home? I demand an arm to hold from such a dashing stranger."

Of course, he offers you his arm. And of course, he's already memorised every single way to get to your house. You don't mention it again, knowing full well that your darling vampire has a tendency to be an absolute creep.

Scratch and the Owlbear are happy to see you back home, but are overjoyed to see Astarion again. They circle around his legs, tackle him clean over, yipping and hooting euphorically as he struggles to give out an appropriate amount of pets to them both. You busy yourself hanging up your cloak, smiling at the display.

Both of your fluffy friends had been asking where your 'fanged friend' had went. You never had a good answer for them.

Once Astarion manages to wrangle both of your pets, he follows you to your dining table. You've set out glasses and two pitchers each, and motion for him to sit down. You are clearly drinking more wine. Astarion sniffs at his glass once he fills it, and his brows knit together in confusion. It's pig's blood, seemingly still fresh and warm.

"Your sister Dalyria comes by sometimes," you explain. "I've perfected the art of preserving and re-heating blood by now. I always keep some on hand for her."

"That's...very kind of you," Astarion says, unsure how to respond. "How often is she here? How did that even happen?"

"She thought I was good for you, and disliked the way our relationship...ended. She sought me out a couple of weeks after I settled in here to check on me - you vampires can easily sniff out a person. We usually chat about whatever research projects we've got going on." You take a sip of your wine. Maybe this whole conversation is more bearable if you get drunk. "Dal's become a good friend. She usually stays a couple of days, and we bounce ideas off of each other. I like her."

That causes Astarion to bristle. Was he really that easily replaced? By his own sister-spawn, at that?

"How much do you like her?" He asks, trying to keep his voice sounding casual.

He fails. Your eyes immedately harden into a glare.

"You are in no position to play the jealous one after what you said to me," you spit, rage bubbling up inside you. "But if it soothes your sick little mind - no, I am not fucking your sister, and she isn't feeding on me, either."

Astarion flinches at your tone. He's seen you angry before, but never has your anger been directed at him. It feels awful. He hates it.

"What are you two researching, then?" He diverts. Yes, keeping it casual was a good idea. Maybe you would soften up the more you spoke.

"Dal's still looking for a cure to vampirism. I'm looking into a way to get spawn to walk in sunlight. It would give them all a brief respite from the Underdark." You don't mind answering. You like talking about your work. You're also in constant contact with both Gale and Rolan about all of this - more brains to think with, so to speak. "Dal and I are also thinking to try and restore the Arcane Tower down there. I kind of miss the Myconids, and the equipment there was top-notch. It would provide both of us with a sharable workspace. Rolan could benefit from the resources there, too. Overall, getting it back up and running would just be beneficial, and if we find a way to reprogram the robots, they could help the spawn in building their village."

"So, you're moving to the Underdark, then?" Astarion worries. He's just found you again - he can't have you running off right away.

"Not immediately, and not permanently," you assure him. "Setting up portals between here and there is an easy matter. I'd move from time to time. But enough about me. I believe you have something to say?"

Astarion becomes indignant. He hates being cornered, and you are doing just that.

"You aren't going to apologise for anything?"

"Me? I don't think I have anything to apologise for," you scoff. "I have no regrets. If I had to do everything all over again, I would change nothing. There is not a world in which I would've helped you ascend, not a universe in which I would've let you sell your soul for the ascension. If losing you is the price I have to pay for ensuring you don't commit a vile act of mass-murder, then so be it. I will not apologise for that."

You can see he hates how sure of yourself you are. He wishes you felt any amount of guilt for having refused him, but - breakup aside - your conscience is clear.

"You've gotten over me quickly," he grumbles.

"I haven't. But I'll happily tell you what I told the others." You pin him with your gaze again, looking him right in the eye to make sure he properly hears you. "You were not the first person to love me, and the way I saw it, you wouldn't be the last. And to be fair - would <i>you</i> wish to continue to be with someone who said they hoped you died screaming?"

No. No, he would not. You have no reason to hear him out, let alone take him back. What he said to you was vile, hurtful, and wholly undeserved. He knows that himself.

"So. I have nothing to apologise for," you say again. "Would you do everything the same way again, knowing the outcome? Because if you would, then you don't have anything to apologise for either, and we can end this conversation here. Both of us should move on with our lives, in that case."

Astarion doesn't want to move on. He wants you back. He wants to bask in your light again, share your joy with his own.

"You never were so harsh with me," he finds himself saying.

"My patience has its limits," you reply. "I know you've a lot of growing to do, so I've always tried to be more lenient with you."

Your eyes harden into a glare, turning glossy as tears are slowly burning at their edges. Astarion doesn't want you to cry. He doesn't think he can take it.

"But after everything we'd gone through, how much time we shared, the fact that you would say something like that to me..." You shake your head in irritation. "It helped mask the pain, really. I was furious."

The tears start spilling down your cheeks. You wipe them away angrily. You'd thought about it, of course, what you'd do if you ever saw Astarion again. You would slap him, at the very least. Maybe turn him into a sheep. Cast the Daylight spell on him if he was especially vile to you again. You never wanted to cry. He did not deserve your tears, not after that.

"You once promised you would never hurt me - on purpose, at the very least. I was foolish enough to believe you."

Scratch and the Owlbear sense your distress. Scratch comes to sit beside you, resting his snout on your thigh, nudging you, as if to encourage you to pet him. The Owlbear settles in behind you, hooting at you as a mother owlbear would at her cub. You weave your hand into the soft fur of Scratch's head, and the dog whines.

It's a small victory to you that Astarion looks at you with regret. Even his ears have drooped, and he seems defeated.

"Did you ever cry for me?" He asks carefully.

"No." Your voice is cold as ice. "I did not. Not once. Not until you flitted back into my life."

Gods, maybe this whole plan was a mistake. You seemed like you really were moving on with your life - and then Astarion decided to come crashing in.

Astarion pulls out the ring and the note. The paper is crumpled, the ink faded - he'd read it over and over and over, trying to imprint every single memory he had of you in his mind. The ring is polished and well cared for. It's only now that you realize that Astarion is still wearing his.

"Back then, at the ritual. I was blinded by all the power and the safety it promised," Astarion says mournfully. "You've always seen the best in me, and I know you were trying to show me I could be better than Cazador ever made me to be. I wasn't able to understand it then. All I saw was you stabbing me in the back. You, of all people. Especially since I wanted to do it for us."

You scoff at that. "You cannot even admit the truth. For weeks before heading to Cazador's palace, the ascension was the only thing you ever spoke of, how you'd command some nocturnal hoard we would both supposedly rule over. You never asked me what I wanted. You just assumed. You didn't want it for <i>us</i>. You thought only of yourself."

He looks away, unable to bear your gaze any longer. You know him too well.

"You're right, of course," he says.

"Then say it. Speak the truth. Admit to it."

He shuts his eyes and sighs. "I wanted the ascension for myself. I didn't care what you want. I didn't care if I would turn into heartless being who would take what it wanted from you, regardless of your opinion on it. All I saw was the power, and I wanted it all to myself."

You seem satisfied with his confession. He knows it's the truth. He was too much of a coward to admit to it earlier. Astarion toys with the ring - your ring - in his hands. How long had he stared at it, day after wretched day, wishing he could somehow find you with it?

"I admit I wanted to hurt you when I...when I said I hoped you died screaming. I thought many terrible things in the days that followed. It was only when I returned to camp and found your belongings that I realized what I'd done. What I'd done to you."

He had wailed for you. You had never cried for him. Had he hurt you so badly that any love you held for him in your heart had shrivelled up and died? Had scorched the earth between the two of you so severely, nothing was ever to grow there again?

"You didn't deserve that. Any of it," he says. "And still, you found it in you to tell me you loved me."

"Because that was the truth." Your words weigh on him. Was. What about now? "I also know that sometimes, eventhough you love someone, you may both be better off apart. Which is why I let you go."

Astarion feels sick. Still, he needs to ask. Needs to know. "Do you still love me?"

"I'm not sure you have the right to ask that," you say bitterly. He hasn't even apologised properly, and yet has the gall to ask this. "But if it comforts you, I don't think all feelings are gone. Else, I would likely have less trouble entering a new relationship. And I wouldn't be crying, now."

Your tears haven't stopped. Astarion wishes they would. He hates knowing he's the cause of them. He has to swallow his jealousy. He wants to ask if it's Rolan who may have captured your heart, or Dammon, the sweet blacksmith. If it's Gale you have a distant relationship with, or if Shadowheart visits you in the night. But he is in no place to ask, not if he's the reason you're hurting.

Astarion leans across the table. He presents your ring to you in his open hand. You don't take it just yet, you simply watch him warily, the Owlbear and Scratch loyal at your side.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice almost a whisper. "I fucked up. I was messed up, too terrified of everything to think clearly. I'm sorry I said those things to you. You never deserved such treatment."

He bows his head.

"I've no right to ask for your forgiveness, let alone to ask you to take me back. I have been miserable since we parted, and I know it is my own fault. You're free to refuse me. I just...I just wanted to see you again, even if for the last time. If you are happier in your new life, I have no choice but to let you go."

You stare at him, for a good long while. Astarion doesn't move, frozen in place. He'll stay put until he has an answer, be it to say his farewells, or to pull you into his embrace.

You actually got a proper apology from him. That was all you wanted, really, but your mind is confused. You feel so much, all at once. You hate him, for having ever hurt you like that. And yet you love him, still. So, so, much. You've missed having him in your life. So while your mind is definitely still angry at what he said, and how he'd left you, your heart soars at the idea of having him back. It's enough to put out the firey rage, leaving nothing but relief. You'd worried so much about him the past months, wondering what had become of him after he left you.

You lean across the table yourself, and carefully clasp his hand in yours.

"Break up with me like that again, and I'll tie you up in my garden to see your last sunrise."

You're half-serious, half-joking about this. Your delivery is so dry, despite the wetness in your voice, that Astarion lets out a little giggle.

You've missed that sound.

"You'd be justified in doing so, darling. I'm surprised you haven't done it yet."

"Don't tempt me." You withdraw, and take your ring from him. "There's still time."

Astarion finally looks up. Tears are still rolling down your cheeks, but as you slip your ring back on, Astarion senses that at the very least, you're not hurting anymore - at least not as much. He's empathetic enough to understand this won't be a quick forgive-and-forget situation.

"Am I yours again, my love?" He asks. He almost doesn't dare to say it, but he needs to know. Needs to be sure.

"You are." You smile at him for the first time tonight, a true, honest smile. "As I am yours."

For the first time this evening, Astarion smiles a genuine smile. One of pure elation, of relief. It takes the years off of him, rounding out his eyes and softening his features.

He bolts up from his chair to near tackle you from yours. You yelp, for you surely would have fallen straight off if not for the massive Owlbear behind you. Astarion settles in your lap, unintentionally shooing Scratch away from you, and squeezes you to his chest. You can only laugh as Scratch then insistently burrows his snout between the two of you, demanding to be a part of the embrace, yipping excitedly all the way. You return Astarion's embrace, trying to accomodate your fluffy friend as well.

"Gods, what a relief," Astarion murmurs into your hair. "I've missed you, my love. You have no idea."

"I can imagine, my darling. You've gone to quite the length to find me," you reply. You shut your eyes, relaxing in his arms. "I missed you, too. Terribly so."

You stay like this, with his weight comfortable in your lap, until Scratch decides all this cuddling is far too warm for him. The dog scuttles out again, which you use as your cue to head over to your living room. You and Astarion stay there for the next few hours, talking, catching up, and drinking some more. All the while, Astarion is glued to your side - he's been without contact for months, and he's not ready to be apart from you again.

It's only when your yawns start increasing that he decides for the both of you that your night is over. Your tiredness is a bitter reminder to him of how the two of you now exist in different rhythms, but you quickly assure him that you'll find a way to manage.

The two of you have faced harder challenges.

Astarion insists on carrying you up to your bedroom. Scratch and the Owlbear curl up on their respective nests to sleep downstairs - the Owlbear is far too big to climb the stairs, and Scratch would never abandon him to sleep alone.

When getting ready for bed, Astarion is disappointed to learn you truly have none of his clothing left in your possession. No shirt for him, then, which neither of you happen to mind terribly. He strips down to his underwear, and is delighted to see that, while your eyes have a quick roam over his bared skin, they easily settle back on his face, happy and relaxed.

You never were with him for just his body. You always loved him for who he is.

It's a little awkward at first. The two of you just got back together, neither of you are sure what the other is comfortable with. You allow Astarion to take the lead on that - he's the one who has more trouble with intimacy, so his boundaries need prioritising, within reason, of course.

For now, he just stares as he lays across from you, like he is truly unsure of what to do. Then, he hesitantly speaks.

"May I kiss you?" He asks.

He doesn't have to ask twice. "You may."

"Thank you, my treasure. Can you lay on your back for me?"

Easily done. Astarion is gentle with you. He cautiously slides himself between your legs, avoiding too close of a contact at first, and cages you in with his arms. You gaze up at him, taking in the vibrant red of his eyes, the slightly nervous glint in them.

You nod at him once more to affirm that you want this.

He dips his head down and presses the softest of kisses to you lips. It's so chaste and gentle, it seems so unlike him. You enjoy the softness. It's a rare gift from him.

His lips are hungry for more. They wander away from your own, leaving little pecks on your cheek, your brow, your nose, your eyelids. You feel every word he might wish to convey to you in each of his kisses.

Don't leave me. I need you. I love you.

When his lips find yours once more, their touch is more heated. He pulls you impossibly close, and you grasp his shoulders in return. Astarion's tongue licks along your lips, and you easily let him enter, moaning softly as his hands glide down the sides of your body and rest on your hips, squeezing at your flesh.

Astarion moves on from your lips to pepper your neck with kisses. He's disappointed that his bitemarks have healed and left no scars in his absence, no trace of him left on your lovely skin. You feel his growing hardness start to strain against his undergarments, but resist grasping for him in a short moment of clarity.

"No," you say softly.

Astarion raises his head. He looks confused, almost hurt. You run your thumbs over his cheekbones, trying to soothe his fears.

"I want this. Madly so, my Starlight," you say. "But tonight is not the night for it. Everything feels too fresh, too raw. I don't think I would enjoy it if we slept together right now."

You see the relief in his eyes, the panic dissipating from his expression.

"You may be right, darling. Apologies. I got carried away."

"Don't apologise. Not for that." You pull him down for another kiss. You feel him smile against you before you break it off again. "We can keep kissing like this, though. I do rather like that."

"Darling, there is nothing I'd like to do more."

Astarion kisses your lips, your face, lovingly, adoringly over and over, until your breathing starts to slow, and he realizes you've fallen asleep in his arms.

He'll keep watch. Keep you safe. No matter what may come.

__________

The next morning, you wake to Scratch yipping at you from the footend of the bed, and Astarion missing from your side.

You drowsily cast a quick Animal Speak spell, to hear what your fluffy friend has to say.

"The other one's doing something in the food place," Scratch tells you. "It smells...concerning."

Good gods. You quickly throw on a dressing gown and head downstairs, Scratch at your tail. Indeed, you smell something burned, and hear a sound of frustration come from your kitchen.

The Owlbear curiously eyes Astarion through the doorway. You pet its beak, before heading in to meet your lover, who has clearly been defeated by what looks to be heavily charred fried eggs, the yolks burst and blackened bits stuck to the pan.

"Cooking for me?" You coo at him, slinking up and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. "The bacon and the bread looks good."

"Yes, and the eggs are a disaster," Astarion says with a sigh. He turns his head to press a kiss to your forehead. "So much for my surprise. Good morning, little love."

"Good morning to you too, Little Star. Oh, and I'm happy and surprised, nonetheless. The Owlbear doesn't mind charred food, so they won't go entirely to waste, and I can show you how to do it without them sticking to the pan like this."

He lets you take the reigns from there, paying attention as you teach him how to fry an egg.

Later, you settle down in your living room after breakfast, the curtains shut tight so Astarion can get comfortable.

"So, what's next?" He asks. "Any plans?"

"Well, first I'll send message to Rolan that I'm taking the next week or two off," you say. "I'd like to just spend some time...being with you. We didn't get the chance to do that on the road, perpetually fearing and fighting for our lives. Now, we can."

"Sounds delightful. No objections from me."

He'll have to bring what few belongings he has to your house. You have no trouble accommodating him - what had worried you was that he'd admitted to you that he was essentially homeless, drifting from place to place with just his pack and nothing else.

"Wonderful. I think we need a bit of adjustment time. While I'm glad to have you back in my life, some wounds still need healing, I think." You give him a knowing look. "On both sides."

Astarion hates how right you are, but hums in agreement, anyway.

"Do you want to see the others?" You then offer. "Not a lot of them are close, though. Shadowheart is the closest. The others are day's trips away, or in another realm entirely."

"Shadowheart would be a good start," Astarion says. "She may be the least likely to stake me for having broken your heart."

"You'll have better luck with Wyll or Gale," you say with a chuckle. "She was ready to set your tent on fire."

Astarion feels a cold shiver run down his spine. "As long as she doesn't set me on fire, I'd love to reunite with her."

"Don't worry. She's bound to be more mad at me, really." You find this all too amusing. "I can hear her already. 'Really? He trampled all over your heart and you're taking him back?!'"

That does sound like Shadowheart.

"Anyway. We could also head to the Underdark and see what's what. The portal is easy enough to cast," you contemplate. "And the quicker the Arcane Tower is back up and running, the closer I may be to find a solution for your sunlight allergy."

"I'm happy to go anywhere you like, as long as I get to be by your side, my love," Astarion says sincerly.

He's truthful this time, you both know.

Astarion feels that with you by his side, anything and everything may be possible for him. His new life can truly begin now, and he's happy that he gets to share it with you.

His dearest, most beloved treasure.

i rly admire astarion for continuing to try to lie, gaslight, and otherwise manipulate u even after immediately establishing that u both have psychic mind reading lie detection flavored parasites in ur head the first time u meet, and hes still like no i was born with these fangs i dont know where that exsanguinated boar came from. dont read my mind btw

This is THE look

astarion has fluffy cat energy to me idk

I do feel judgement from Shadowheart having to cast lesser restoration after every long rest, even if she doesn’t say it.

staying close w people long distance really is about the mundane stuff. i get texts like "made quesadillas" "spilled mop water all over the floor :(" "lady on the bus has not one not two but three tiny dogs in her purse" andits like wow. i love you more than words can express

me and my friend watched the fnaf movie the way you’re SUPPOSED to

+18

wriothesley makes the hottest noises while fucking you.

sure, he’s feeling good thrusting in and out of you the first time you sleep together. good? no, he’s on cloud nine. feeling your pliant body beneath him, smelling your sweet scent when he buries his face in your neck, hearing your desperate whimpers when his thumb brushes over your clit and brings you closer to your third orgasm that night. but the moment his steady grunts turn into louder moans, his breathing starts getting laboured, and his voice shaky- he swears you’re tightening up around him, you’re wetter than before and … louder than before?

"ha, you're such a sweet, little whore. getting off on my moans, aren’t you, love?"

you won’t hear the end of it. he'll tease you about it in the most inappropriate places at the most inappropriate times. he'll lean into you and quietly breathe, almost groan, down your ear. your legs quiver and neck starts feeling hot until you remind yourself that you're in public and you shove him away, only for him to offer you that handsome chaffing smirk of his. yet frankly speaking, you can’t deny it. he just sounds so good.

spreading the nonbinary/trans DCA agenda

me: *is jokingly mean to my friend*

friend: *jokingly pretends to be hurt*

me:

ATTENTION ALL GIRLS AND LADIES: if you walk from home, school, office or anywhere and you are alone and you come across a little boy crying holding a piece of paper with an address on it, DO NOT TAKE HIM THERE! take him straight to the police station for this is the new 'gang' way of rape. The incident is getting worse. Warn your families. Reblog this so this message can get accross to everyone.

whenever my program freezes

i am so fuckin sorry y’all, i really do want to write more zuko fic but i’ve got AWFUL writers block right now ;;; i’m trying to write i swear, but i don't want to give you guys garbage writing, so pls be patient i beg of you

Admit it

Hobie brown x fem!reader

Request: Can I get a hobie brown x stubborn fem! reader. Like they obviously like each other but won’t do anything about bc of her. Hobie keeps asking what’s up and she just brushes it off. Turns out, she just wants to protect him.

Warnings: Some language, angst, poorly written lmao, not proof read

Story type: Blurb

A/N: Lmk if I should do a part 2, and sorry this isn't great, I rushed it.

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

After a particularly pressing mission, your new focus was on the grumbling in your stomach.

I grab a tray and fill it with food, rushing to an empty table. As I take my first bite, hear a tray slamming down across from me. I glance up and see Pavitr smiling at me over the table.

"So," He says cheerfully, drawing out the 'o'.

"Yes?" I ask, mouth full of food. The second I have enough swallowed, I take another large bite.

"You and Hobie…. What's the deal?" He inquires and my face immediately heats up. I take a moment to swallow my food and reply simply,

"There is no deal."

"You guys flirt all the time! You obviously like each other." He presses. My heart races at the thought of Hobie and I consider confiding in Pav. Nausea twists into my stomach and I just shake my head and take another bite. The topic is not up for discussion. "Y/N, you deny your feelings every time someone asks. Why won't you admit you like him? You guys could be so happy." My chest tightens and for a second I nearly forget how to swallow.

"There's no feelings." I shrug.

"Admit you like him and spare us all this agony of waiting!" He exclaims and luckily I am saved from Pav's interrogation when Hobie takes a seat next to him, Gwen and Miles plopping down next to me.

"Admit she likes who?" Hobie asks with a smirk, although he already knows who he was asking about. I just stuff my mouth with my lunch, barley taking a break to breathe. Throughout lunch I catch his gaze on me, not attempting to hide it, and I feel my stomach churning.

I survive lunch unscathed and head to the only place I feel like I can really breath, the roof of the building I was just eating in. I sigh in relief the second I step into the open, freshness of the outdoors. I take a seat, dangling my legs off the edge. I breath in and out evenly, staring out at the vast view of headquarters. The spider people walking and flinging around look like ants from my elevated position.

I sit like this for a while. Calm and away from the stress of headquarters. But it is ruined when a voice calls out behind me, drawing nearer.

"Y/N what are ya doin up here?" The familiar British voice rung in my ears, immediately placing butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

"It's peaceful," I say, looking at Hobie as he sits next to me. "Or, it was." I tease. We settle into silence, both staring forward. He bounces his legs as they dangle and I can hear his heavy breathing, subconsciously matching it. His proximity causes shortness of breath and I am about to get up when he speaks, breaking the silence.

"Its a beautiful view." He states and I nod. We both turn to face forward again, the wind humming in my ear and blowing my hair gently. I wish we could be here forever, sitting in each others quiet presence. But we can't.

I notice him scooting closer, slowly. If I blinked I wouldn't have even noticed him closing the gap between us. I can't help the sick feeling overcoming me, making me want to free fall off the edge.

We both look at each other, holding eye contact. Normally one of us would ruin the moment with a snarky comment, but instead he begins to lean in slightly. I feel his breath and it sends shivers down my spine. For a minute I want to kiss him, well, I always want to, but for a fleeting second I almost do. I wish I could freeze time, just like this, and stay like this forever.

"I- I can't." I whisper, heart breaking as I pull back. I turn away, missing the hurt flash across his face. This isn't the first time I've ended a moment before it can begin. I know I'm leading him on, but he makes it hard not to succumb to the moment. But a certain spidermans voice rings through my head in these moments, clearly saying "You have to keep your distance."

"This is one fucked up game darlin," He sighs with a humorless chuckle and I know he's right. He doesn't understand how bad I want to be his everything. He doesn't understand how much it hurts me to be the bad guy. He doesn't understand the longing I feel.

"You're so good at games though," I laugh, and he knows what I'm getting at.

"I flipped the board one time in the game of Life. It is a major misconception of real adult hood. Not everyone wants to get married or have kids or go to university," He rolls his eyes, and I don't mind his rant. I chuckle and like that, it's like the almost kiss never happened.

~

"You guys completed the mission?" Miguel questioned harshly. Everyone nods and he continues, "How was the performance?"

"Everyone did well," Gwen says and everyone hums in agreement. "Pavitr and Miles did exceptional with getting the people out." She adds.

"Y/N you specifically disobeyed orders and went into the building when you were supposed to be helping Gwen." Miguel snaps and I feel embarrassment bubbling in my stomach.

"She don't follow rules, if she did she'd be boring." Hobie says which earns a vicious glare from Miguel. Hobie puts his elbow on my shoulder, head in his hand, and leans his weight on me. I feel scarlet crawling up my neck and spreading onto my face. I catch Miguel's fixed glare on me and look to the ground.

"Hands off Brown." I grin and step to the side, causing him to loose balance for a moment. He passes me a dirty look and I laugh at him.

As everyone is leaving, Miguel tells me to stay back. My shoulders tense and I can't bare to look him in his red eyes. "Y/L/N. Have you been following my orders?" He demands.

"Hmm, what were they again?" I pretend to forget, scrunching my face and holding my chin to annoy Miguel. It works, his scowl deepening.

"Y/L/N, I tell you everyday. You can't date Hobie. You have to keep your distance. It's better that way."

"I know. I know, okay?" I groan, wishing he wouldn't stress it so much. It only makes it hurt me worse. He just pinches the bridge of his nose, no doubt mentally cursing me.

"You can't disrupt the canon." I roll my eyes at his comment.

"I know." And with that I turn around and stomp out. I can't stand this. Not being able to be with the boy I'm head over heels for, all because I'm supposed to have my first kiss with someone else.

That's my fucking canon event. My first kiss, and then other bullshit. I can't kiss Hobie because that's not my canon first kiss, and have to keep my distance because its canon that my first kiss happens on my first ever date so I have to wait to go on my first date for some idiot from my universe.

I'm so entranced in my thoughts as I walk aimlessly around, not knowing where I plan on going, when I bump into Hobie. I nearly fall but he catches me and helps me get my balance. Again, blush creeps onto my face.

"Now you're literally falling for me," He smirks, the lighting causing his rose ring to sparkle. I narrow my eyes and snort. "You alright?" He asks in a mocking way.

"Yeah, sorry," I grumble and step out of his grasp.

"Didn't you fall on me the first time we met?" He reminisces, walking with me as I shuffle forward. I remember as well, I had just joined and I had pissed off a spider cat, I was running from it when I bumped into him and took him down. I immediately fell for him, ironically.

"I can't forget when we first met." I start and his eyes widen in surprise at my sentiment. "But I'll keep trying." Which causes him to glare at me andd flip me his middle finger.

"Aren't you miss snarky?" He elbows me and I laugh. We walk together for awhile, to nowhere in particular. Eventually we catch up to Miles and Pav, who wiggle their eyebrows at us.

"Ooh, look at the love birds." Miles nudges Pavitr, a sly grin on his face. Although I know where they are coming from, it doesn't stop my heart from dropping.

"Where?" I play dumb and look around with a fake jaw drop.

[Two days later]

We have finished working for the day and a lot of my spider friends are chilling in one of the many living rooms in headquarters with me.

"Anyone else starving or just me?" Peter b asks, Mayday crawling on his shoulders. I nod hastily in agreeance. "Im going to get some dinner, who's with me?" He stands and a few others do too.

"I think I'm just going to head home to eat, but thanks!" I smile and wave them off. They linger outside for a moment, trying to decide on something.

"Want to go back with me and grab a bite together?" Hobie asks, staring into my eyes. I avert his gaze, cheeks burning.

"I'm okay, thanks though." I say with a faltering smile. My eyes fall to the floor as I hear the murmurs of the group quiet at the sound of my rejection.

"Another time then." He smirks but I notice the grimace behind his expression.

"Maybe," I lie for his sake and head back to my universe as quickly as possible.

~

"I can't believe you did that!" Pavitr gags in disgust.

"it's not so bad," I shrug and take another bite of the mayo lathered corn. Miles shudders in disgust and Gwen rolls her eyes. I lift another spoonful to my mouth when the spoon is snatched from my hand as Hobie takes a seat next to me. He stuffs it into his mouth and swallows, then makes a scrunched up expression that leaves me staring slightly.

"That's putrid." He grimaced and I shrug once more.

"You just don't have an exquisite palette like I do." I puff my chest out and grin. He digs into the contaminated corn again, scooping another bite and eating it. "I thought it was putrid?"

"I don't believe in consistency," He gives me a side eye and I roll my eyes.

"Why don't you just admit you guys are in love?" Gwen blurts then turns pink in embarrassment. I immediately turn my head from Hobie, praying he doesn't notice the fluster evident on my face.

"Yeah Y/N, admit it." Hobie mocks and I shake my head.

"there's nothing to admit. I don't like Hobie." I say.

"Yes you do." The table says at the same time, including Hobie.

"No i don't."

"Oh please, admit it already." Miles groans.

"No, there isn't anything to admit."

"Yes there is," Hobie smirks and I fight the burning sensation that stings my cheeks.

"No." I press.

"Yes." He continues. Gosh, I just want to strangle him.

"No. Stop it." I say, heart dropping. I can't like him why can't he be okay with that? I can tell he feels guilty for pressing, which makes me feel bad for snapping. "Sorry, I'm sorry." I close my eyes tightly and sigh, getting up from the table and going to my safe place. The roof.

I am welcomed with a gush of wind that blows my hair into my eyes and mouth. I have to continuously brush the hair away as I sit in my usual place. Even with the hair in my face and the wind burning my skin slightly, its still calming. Until its not.

"Y/N!" Hobie calls in a sing-song voice and I close my eyes in aggravation. He takes a seat next to me and I feel a lump growing in my throat. I just want to hold him and kiss him and hug him and never let him go.

"Do you pretend to like me, or pretend not to?" He asks and it takes me a second to understand.

"I don't do either." I say flatly, standing up to leave. Miguel would want me to walk out and keep my distance. And that's what I am doing, walking away, until Hobie uses his webs to bring me tumbling into him. I gasp in fear that I'll fall over the edge but Hobie catches me. I pant to catch my breath as i sit wear I was before.

"I should push you off this damn roof, Brown!" I shout.

"Oh please, you're fine. You're just proving my point. I know you, if you didn't like me than you would've pushed me." He chuckles and then gets a serious look on his face. "Why do you act like you don't like me? Am i-" he groans, embarrassed of his next question. "Am I doing something wrong?"

He's looking at me with the saddest expression I've ever seen him make and it nearly causes the lump in my throat to escape into a sob, but I manage to keep it down.

"You're not doing anything wrong Hobie." I sigh and gaze into his eyes, my own glossed over.

"Then what is it?" He demands, "You owe me an explanation!"

"I also owe you like 40 bucks, so what?" I try to play it off, despite the crack in my voice, hoping we can toss this in the bin of 'forgotten' moments. We have a lot of them.

"Y/N." Is all it takes for tears to spring out of my eyes. He looks surprised, scooting back slightly. I rub extremely hard at my eyes with my hands until I've relatively stopped.

"Sorry the wind got in my eyes." I laugh, but its not even half hearted. When he looks at me I know he doesn't believe a thing I say.

"Just tell me the truth." I meet his eyes as he speaks and feel my heart breaking at how badly I want to smash my lips against his. We stare into each other's eyes so deeply it makes me want to shuffle off the edge. My face twitches towards his and then I pause.

"I can't Hobie." I whisper but it is pointless to say anything, the look we're sharing tells enough truth. Before I realize what we're doing I am swept in the moment and we begin to kiss. Its better than I've ever imagined. His kisses me delicately, like I am fragile. I suppose I am, considering this may be the only time we kiss. We should savor it.Despite his gentleness, I kiss him with urgency and desperation. I need this. I need him.

After a moment, reality comes crushing in. I'm kissing Hobie. My first kiss, Hobie Brown. I can't do this! This is it, I've ruined everything. It's self sabotage. This is just making it harder than it has to be. I am about to pull away and tell him it's a mistake, but before I get the chance Miguel's voice booms from behind us.

"Y/L/N!" He shouts an I flinch, scrambling away from Hobie. Immediately I burst into tears. Its too much. "I've told you countless times not to do this. You had ONE rule." He yells and confusion clouds Hobie's face.

"I've ruined everything." I whisper to Hobie, but really to myself. Tears stream down my face as Michael's large shadow covers me in shade. "I'm sorry." I tell Miguel, throat tight as I keep myself from sobbing.

"It's too late Y/N. There's no going back now." He says it dangerously low. "Get up." I obey, and as I turn to follow him away I glance back at Hobie, who is no doubt utterly confused. I'm sorry, I mouth to him sadly.

I tried to stay away from him, but I couldn't.

~

Comment or send me an ask if I should do a part 2 ;)

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Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?

It Sounds Nice coming from You.

Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader

“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)

People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.

But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.

The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.

You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.

There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.

So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.

—

Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.

Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.

Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.

The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.

The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.

He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.

Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.

Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.

It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.

“She’s silent, ain’t she?”

“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”

“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”

“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”

The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.

“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“

“Cut it, mate.”

He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.

“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”

“No.”

“Mm.”

Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”

“Jesus..”

He felt rather accomplished that day.

—

It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.

Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.

Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.

He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.

immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(

I’m patient 🦑

u werent 2 seconds ago

I don’t subscribe to consistency.

Or this slandering talk

ur consistently lame

also why squid

I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute

hes not real

Don’t do this me

reeeeeal tasty tho

What is wrong with you.

numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)

Inhumane.

mmmmmm yummyyyy

He can’t die, he’s immortal

The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.

“Hey, Hobie!”

Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.

He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.

“Pav, my guy!”

Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.

“What’chu doing up there?”

His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.

Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”

Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.

“Textin’ [Name].”

Just then, the next message from you showed.

immortal ??? how consistent of him to live

He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.

He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything

ihu

terrivle joke

No, you don’t

And it was great

wtvr >:P

Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.

“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.

“They do argue very often.”

“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”

Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.

They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.

He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.

“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”

Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.

“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”

“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”

“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.

“What does mini-punk even mean!”

“Not exactly, Pavitr.”

Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.

The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.

“Huh?”

“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.

“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”

Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.

Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.

“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.

Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.

“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”

A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.

“Wha’ ‘bout it?”

His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.

“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”

Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.

“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”

The punk quirked a brow.

“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.

“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.

“Exactly, it’s not.”

Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.

“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”

Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.

“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.

“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”

“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”

“Gwen, it’s not like that.”

“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”

“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.

“No— well, not unless—,”

“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.

“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“

They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.

“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.

The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.

—

“You agreed to this?”

lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”

He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.

“Now, you know that’s not tr—“

His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.

“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”

He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.

“I really didn’t mean to agree.”

Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”

And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.

You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.

How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.

You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.

And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.

Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?

Because you love him, you guess.

His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.

His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.

“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”

“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”

“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”

Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.

—

Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.

“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.

“This—, This asshole!”

“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.

Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”

“Not kicked.”

“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”

Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”

“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”

“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”

“Gwendolyne.”

“All of you, stop.”

Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”

“Since when did you have a say—“

“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”

“She’s an adult.”

“When it’s convenient to you.”

Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.

“She doesn’t talk to people.”

“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.

“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.

“Not that I’ve seen.”

Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”

“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.

“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.

“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oops too late, portals open.”

“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.

“Yeah..”

“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.

“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”

The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.

—

He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.

You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.

Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.

Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.

“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.

“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”

Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.

“I totally called it.”

“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.

“Oh my god, I love this movie!”

“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.

Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.

“The horse.”

“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.

Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”

You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.

He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.

The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.

—

Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.

“You doin’ right, babe?”

“Yeah, Hobes.”

You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”

“We’re in bed, dummy.”

He shot you a playful look.

“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”

You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.

A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.

“Sleep, sweethear’.”

“Mhmmph.”

Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.

No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.

—

BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️

Adventures in babysitting: a saga

One hour in:

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Seven hours in:

Bonus:

Fiery Familiarty - Part 4

i’m so sorry yall ;;; i really meant to post before now, my brain has been all over the place. but finally, here you have part 4, please forgive me!! i hope you guys enjoy <3

words: ~2.1k

prologue | part 1 | part 2 | part 3

When you awoke the following day, you were almost nervous to leave your room. As you dressed, you mentally prepared yourself, taking a deep breath before you walked out to greet everyone else. You greeted everyone politely, elbowing Toph and Sokka as you fought for your morning meal. You thanked Pipsqueak before taking your food, settling in to watch Aang and Zuko training. 

You couldn’t help but cringe as Zuko let out a particularly frustrated growl, changing form in an effort to get more out of his bending. “Don’t patronize me! You know what it’s supposed to look like!”

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman!”

You snickered around your breakfast at the nickname.

“Hey, jerks!” Sokka sat beside you, munching his apple. “Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerk bending?” 

You elbowed him, “Shut it.”

“Get out of here!”

“Okay, take it easy.” Sokka drops his apple, “I was just kiddin' around.” He snickers to himself as he walks away, “jerkbending, still got it.”

You watched Zuko sink in on himself, groaning in frustration at his own failure. You decided to leave them to train in peace, not noticing Zuko’s eyes trailing after you as you went. 

Once you caught up to Sokka, you shoved him. “Hey, idiot, what was that for, do you have a death wish or something? Willingly bothering an angry bender? Has Katara taught you nothing?”

He chuckled to himself shoving you back, “Hey, not my fault I’m so naturally hilarious. Besides, he’s so fun to tease now that he’s on our side.” He threw an arm around your shoulder, “besides, I think he’s got other interests. Somebody was asking about you this morning.”

Your eyes widened as you looked over to him, “what?”

Sokka’s face pulled into a Cheshire cat grin, “oh yeah, he was asking all about you this morning. Who you were, where you were from, what we knew about you. Seemed to reaallllly wanna get to know you. You got something going on with Prince Grumpy?” 

Your heart was pounding so loud that Sokka’s voice sounded muted. Had he figured it out? Surely not, or everyone would know. Right?

You laughed nervously, trying to keep your voice steady. “No way, I think he’s just asking 'cause I talked to him yesterday. Asked him about some stuff, he probably just wants to know more about who he’s teamed up with.”

Sokka swung his arms behind his head, crossing them to support it. “Okay, whatever you say! But I’m telling you, he’s more than just curious. There’s something more there.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, you tried to will it away as you grumbled, “whatever.” You passed him and went to check on Toph. You chose to spend the rest of your day with the others, exploring the Air Temple and playing mindless games to entertain yourselves. 

Around the campfire, after Zuko came to the realization that he didn’t have the rage and anger to fuel his bending, Toph explained how she learned from the original source, the badgermoles. Though, seeing as the dragons had since gone extinct, he and Aang decided they were going to visit the civilization of the Sun Warriors. They set off bright and early the next day. 

You paced all day until they returned, rushing to check on them. Aang laughed, assuring you they were alright before launching into another of his long-winded stories. You all got a good laugh out of their very sacred dragon dance.

Later that night, you guys sat around the fire, sharing food and laughter. 

“You should’ve seen the look on his face, I’ve never seen a kid so scared about a baby tiger seal!” Katara’s cackle was infectious, everyone joining in as Sokka whined at her for exposing him.

You chuckled softly, nudging him, “Don’t worry Sokka, I remember back home when we would visit the turtleducks, Zu-” You panicked, coughing to cover the fumble. “My friend Zumon, he used to bug them and the mother would bite him.”

The others laughed softly but mostly continued to tease Sokka and tell more stories. You could tell Toph felt your heart start pounding. She tapped your leg in concern, to which you tapped back twice for “I’m okay.”

You could feel Zuko staring at you. You lifted your gaze to meet his, your breath catching in your throat. He knew. There was no way he didn’t, not with the shock in his expression. He almost looked hurt, and you couldn’t take it. You stood up, quietly bidding everyone a good night, claiming you were tired. In reality, you barely slept.

You woke up before the morning sun had even risen, a hand on your shoulder. You panicked, sitting up so fast it made you dizzy.

“Sorry,” Zuko whispered, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You felt some tension bleed as you realized it wasn’t someone coming to attack you, but some came back when you realized that it was Zuko. Your Zuko. The Zuko you deceived into thinking you weren’t his childhood friend. Who found out by accident because you had slipped up in your stupid story. “Zuko… hey.”

“Hi,” his awkward attitude strikes back. “I was… Well, I was wondering if you- If you’d like to train. With me.”

“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea-”

“Please.”

You could see the hope in his eyes, even in the dim light.

“...Okay”

You got on some light clothes, following Zuko out to where he’d been training with Aang. He sat down, patting the spot beside him. “So…”

You laughed softly, “so…”

“Why… didn’t you say anything?”

The dreaded question. “I didn’t mean to lie to you… I just couldn’t tell them. You have to understand, having someone from the Fire Nation try to join them? That was not an option. I couldn’t tell anyone. After I left, I had to blend in. I became a lost child, an orphan. Everyone assumed my family had been killed in the war, and I couldn’t tell anyone the truth. The family of the Fire Nation generals, even a child, are not treated kindly. I didn’t get my scar from a trip and fall,” you laughed bitterly.

Zuko paused, taking in your words before responding, “I didn’t mean why you didn’t tell anyone. I mean, why didn’t you say anything to me before you left? Y/n, you were… You were my only friend.”

Your heart dropped as you looked at him, grabbing his hands, “I never wanted to leave you, Zuko. There was never a day when I didn’t regret leaving you behind, you were my best friend. But after what I heard, their plans to enslave a town of innocent people… I couldn’t stay there.”

As Zuko studied your expression, he could see the distress in your eyes. His eyes softened, “If anyone understands the cruelty of the Fire Nation, it’s me. I’m just glad you got the chance to get out of there. It just… hurt. Losing my best, my only friend. Then when mom left…”

You leaned forward, hesitating before hugging him, tears welling in your eyes. “I’m so sorry for not being there when you needed me. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to lose her, Ursa was so kind and loving… I’ll never let you go through something like that alone, not again.”

As you pulled back, you saw a sole tear stream down his face. You raised a hand to his cheek, swiping your thumb across it as he leaned ever so slightly into your touch. “I promise, Zu.”

And as the Zuko in front of you looked into your eyes, you could see the broken boy he used to be, a weak smile finally gracing his face.

He closed his eyes, taking a moment to gather himself before pulling back. “Will you train with me? I… can teach you what I learned from the dragons.”

Your eyes widened, “I’m honoured, Zuko, but if they catch me-“

“The sun isn’t even awake yet, Y/n. Just this once, bend with me. It’s been years.”

You couldn’t resist those puppy dog eyes.

You nodded, stepping towards him as you bowed to each other. “I haven’t used my bending in years, I can’t promise I’ll be any good to practice with.”

A soft laugh, “I supposed I'll have to show you how a real master does it then, huh?”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head playfully, “you, a master? I saw you a couple days ago, that little smoke show wasn’t master level.”

He grinned, sliding into his first form, “that was before a dragon showed me my true power. Here, I’ll show you.” He moved so fluidly, from one motion to another before he struck. The sheer amount of fire, the heat radiating from his bending, it was mesmerizing.

You smiled, “Oh great Sifu Hotman, show me your ways!” You waved your hands in fake worship, eyes swimming with mischief.

“Spirits, not you too!” You let out a cackle as he grumbled about the ‘stupid nickname’. 

“Well, come on, teach me.”

His grumpy expression seemed to soften, his eyes betraying him. He slid behind you, “may I?”

You nodded without even thinking about what he was asking to do.

You gasped as he placed his hands ever so softly. You had forgotten how bending heated his hands. His touch felt deliciously warm with the morning air cooling your skin. You inhaled, holding your breath as his feather-light touch slid over your arms, guiding you. 

“Uncle always told me that your firepower comes from breathing, not muscle.” He pressed gently on your diaphragm, “breathe, Y/n.”

You drew a shaky breath, closing your eyes to try and steady yourself. You focused on his voice, on the electricity buzzing under your skin everywhere he touched.

“Good. Your breath becomes your energy. It powers you, it extends out and becomes your fire. Let the air fuel your flame.” He was so close you could feel his breath against your neck and he pushed you into form.

Your eyes shot open as you felt all the energy culminating, a flame shooting out of your hand. Your eyes lit up as you turned to him, “I did it!”

He laughed, “I told you, you just needed a master to teach you.”

Your smile turned to a cocky grin, “oh yeah? We’ll get ready to get your butt whooped, O’ Great Fire Master. You can’t stop me now that I’ve got my spark back!”

You let out a laugh as you pushed, a flame forcing him the deflect. That was all it took to get him going. You mimicked him, mirroring his forms in a perfect act of push and pull. It brought back old memories of long-forgotten childhood games, and silly moves you once used. You let out an excited yelp as he threw his ‘Super Mega Prince Fireball’ at you, nearly tripping over yourself as you dodged it. Zuko couldn’t help but play fight when it brought such a lovely shine to your eyes.

Then suddenly, as if the puzzle pieces had fallen into place, you remembered an old dance. One from such a distant memory, you were sure he had forgotten. But as you took your first step, and hummed a note, hoping he would remember… You could see recognition cross his face as he took the next step, humming the note to match. The raspy notes in his voice matched with the even tone in yours, creating the melody you’d missed so dearly. 

You danced around each other, letting out plumes of fire, your bodies brushing against each other in an intricate dance. As the tune built to its crescendo, your eyes met and suddenly it was like the world ceased to exist outside of him. He danced so perfectly, it’s like you were an extension of each other. You could feel your heart pounding as your feet moved in sync, a harmony you had never known until now. Then, on the last note, he swept you up, the way he’d never had the courage to do as a child. Zuko held you close before he dipped you, and both your opposite hands reached up toward the sky. Then, in your final pose, your hands wove together, shooting out flames that mixed so hot it burned white. 

You both held the pose, bodies pressed together as your chests heaved from the exertion. You were staring into his eyes as though you’d never see each other again, drinking each other in with a breathless smile. You almost forgot that you weren’t the only people in the temple.

“Well well, looks like Sparky finally found his match.”

taglist:  @mochminnie @martinys-world @shinyakii @typicallydepressedandanxious

If you’re still adding people to the firey familiarity tag list, I would love to be on it 👉👈

absolutely!!! i will add you to it as soon as i post the next part <3

Spare a place on the tag list, my lord 🤲

yes, for sure!! i’m sorry it’s taking me so long to update, i’ll post soon i promised <3