#I love how you gave me such a cute cottage. I love it here

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

*sneaks up to house to slip this in your mailbox before running to Hide back in my blog*

How I imagine your blog being like.

Sketchbook engraved over the fire place.

Pictures of Johanna and Kaisa everywhere .

The Pooka being pissed outside the window because he can't come in.

A library of random Hilda knowledge.

Fresh baked cookies (briskets)

You just chilling in your chair ready to invite anyone in that is not the pooka.

* waves at my Sketchbook neighbor while chasing the Poola down the street with a wooden spoon*

Yeah no I got back to my Blog and that little shit was in fhere.

Remember lock your doors.

This is it. This is where I live

[willowsnook]

Done Waiting

Lando Norris x bsf!reader

She isn’t you

Hi, could I request a salami sandwich with tomato on wheat bread, please, and thank you. Request from @itsnotsophiasworld

—-------------------------------

MF: SOS, can anyone fly to Spain to check on Lando? From what I’ve gathered, he is staying in an Airbnb by himself and very much in his head. I’m caught up in some work stuff, or else I’d make the trip myself. 

Your heart sank reading Max's text to your friend group. Lando had been having a rough season and was constantly getting ripped apart in the media, no matter what he did. All you could do was make sure that he knew you were there for him and try to be around as much as possible, which was easy as you also lived in Monaco. But after the last race before summer break, none of you had heard from him. 

Looking at flights, you quickly replied to the group saying that you could go. One of the many perks of working remotely was that you could pick up your computer and go anywhere, so leaving to help Lando was a no-brainer. There was a flight leaving tonight, so you purchased that and started to pack. 

You wished the world could see him the way that you did. He was a caring, down-to-earth friend who would do anything for the people he loved. It was hard for anyone who knew him not to like him, and it was hard for you not to be in love with him. 

It hadn’t taken you long after meeting him to fall for his charm, but he had been dating someone else then, so you settled for friendship. That was three years ago, and you’d dated guys since, but the feelings still lingered. He could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world, so it was easy to get sucked in. 

Ultimately, you valued your friendship too much to ever act on it, even when you were both single. You’d been through too much together to risk losing him. You had a hunch that he felt the same way about you because of how overly affectionate he was with you compared to everyone else and that you were usually his first call. Still, his life was busy, and you understood that a girlfriend didn’t fit in that picture right now. 

Landing in Spain around 10, you grabbed your luggage before jumping in a cab to the address Max had sent you. The Airbnb was a cute little beach cottage right on the ocean, and you inhaled a deep breath of salty air and instantly felt better. 

The door to the house swung open, and you were greeted by what seemed to be a very irritated Lando. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Making sure you don’t do something crazy,” you replied, mirroring him with his arms. 

“I want to be alone.”

“I don’t care.” 

You stared at each other for a while, neither one giving in before he finally sighed and moved past you to grab your suitcase, grumbling to himself. The cottage had windows on the backside, allowing a constant view of the ocean, which you could appreciate. Lando put my luggage in the guest room before joining me as you looked at the water. 

“You didn’t have to come; I’m fine,” he muttered. You looked over at him with a sad smile, reaching your hand down to grab his. 

“I wanted to come.” He gave you a small smile, and you took in his exhausted state, noting just how bad it really was. 

“Why don’t we get some rest? Then you’ll be ready for a full day tomorrow,” you suggested, and he looked over at you. 

“I’m here to relax, y/n,” he said, and you smiled mischievously. 

“It will be relaxing, I promise.”

It was not relaxing. 

You dragged Lando out of bed at 7 a.m. to go on a run, and he was not happy with you, but you were just happy he came along. Jogging through the little town, you could tell that his mood was improving as he kept pace with you. 

Out of breath, you were hunched over as you two had climbed to the top of a dune. 

“Are you not relaxed?” Lando teased, and you gave him the finger. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 

“Yeah, I need to log on when we get back to the place,” you wheezed, and he handed you his water bottle. “What are your plans for while I work?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, scroll through social media hate, maybe watch all my old races and critique everything I did; the possibilities are endless.” 

Shooting him a look, you sighed, “That would be funny if I didn’t know you’d already been doing that.” 

He looked down at his feet, and you moved over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. His head found your shoulder, he breathed deeply, and you held on tighter. 

“You’re going to be okay Lan,” you said, looking up at him. 

“I know,” he said sadly. 

Lando spent the rest of the day in the water while you worked, slipping away to get groceries for the night. He hadn’t had time to hide all the takeout bags and boxes he had been surviving on, so you figured a homecooked meal would do him well. 

Having dealt with him being a picky eater for a while, you were finishing up your favorite spaghetti and meatballs recipe when he came back into the house. 

“Smells great,” he commented and you smiled. “Can we eat outside?”

“You read my mind,” you replied, plating the food. 

Eating on the back deck, you felt a sense of serenity as the sound of waves crashing filled your ears. 

“This place is amazing; how did you find it?” You asked, turning to Lando. 

“Honestly, I just opened the app and picked the first place I saw that looked secluded,” he admitted. “I just wanted to be away from everyone.” 

“We are here for you to lean on Lan,” you said softly. “I’m never going to leave you.” 

“I know that, but I just don’t want to disappoint you,” he confessed, and your heart sank. 

“Lando Norris,” you said, forcing him to look at you. “There is nothing you could ever do to disappoint me. I am so insanely proud of everything you’ve accomplished. Please come back to Monaco with me tomorrow.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” He whispered, holding out his arms. You climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair. 

“You buy me so much shit so I have to be nice to you,” you joked and he giggled. He pulled his head back to look at you, and your breath hitched because of the lack of distance between the two of you. Shifting, you tried to move back but his grip on you tightened so you leaned down to bring your lips to his. As you were a millimeter away his phone started to ring and you rested your head briefly against his, groaning internally. 

Sliding off of him you handed him his phone as it was Max calling. Hearing him tell Max he was coming home the next day made you smile, and you gathered all the dishes to clean up. He joined you a little later, and neither of you brought up the almost kiss; you wrote it off as something that happened in the heat of the moment. 

—------------------------------

Zandvoort was a dream, and you were so glad you made the trip with your friends. The next race you were going to was Singapore and Lando had invited you, Max, and some others to hang out the week before in Portugal. 

Your friend group had rented a big house, and you were ready to soak in the sun and relax after taking the week off work. Pietra and you had flown in together and met up with everyone that night at dinner. 

“Hi, I’m Mary,” a girl you didn’t recognize said to you, holding out her hand. You smiled back warmly, introducing yourself. 

“Mary and I met at a shoot early this year,” Pietra explained, and you nodded. You chatted with her for a while over dinner, glad to have another girl on the trip. 

You were less happy the next day when you watched this girl throw herself at Lando every chance she got. Right now, you were watching as she asked Lando how to show her how to hit the ball off the tee at the golf course where you guys were. 

“Ya know I went golfing with her two weeks ago, and she had a perfect swing,” Pietra muttered and you grimaced, watching Lando wrap his arms around the girl to guide her swing. It seemed like she would find a way to touch him no matter where you went. Up against him at dinner, clinging to him in the pool, leaning on him while you were watching a movie. 

At this point your jealousy was flaring up and you were trying to keep your composure, especially because this girl had been nothing but nice to you. What made it worse was that Lando entertained it, accepting her advances right in front of you. Your mind replayed that almost kiss back in Spain and the way the two of you had gotten closer since that trip. It had seemed to you that something was changing in your relationship, but clearly not. The whole trip you felt like your heart was being ripped apart and you were starting to wonder if you needed to take a break from being around him until you could get over your crush. 

Two nights before you were supposed to leave the group ended up at a club downtown as a pre-celebration for what you predicted would be a Lando win in Singapore. Rounds and rounds of shots were taken and you were dancing with Pietra on the dance floor trying to have a good time. 

You briefly glanced back at the VIP section, and your stomach dropped. Mary was sitting on Lando’s lap, and you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Water instantly filled your eyes, and Pietra looked concerned before following your gaze. She looked at you with such sadness that you decided then and there that you were done. 

Leaving the club you walked back to the Airbnb alone. You weren’t sure if it was your drunkenness or just the emotional exhaustion of the situation but you started to get angry. Time after time, you were there for him and this is what you got back. It would be different if he had made it clear from the start that he wasn’t interested but he didn’t do that. He slept in your bed back in Monaco on nights like these, he spoiled you constantly with gifts, and you knew that he had told other drivers on the grid to back off from you, laying a claim. 

God, you were so fucking over it. 

You gathered all your stuff and threw it in your suitcase, calling for a cab to take you to the airport. You made it down the stairs just as Max was coming in. His face fell as he saw your bag. 

"No y/n don’t go,” he pleaded, and you shook your head, already feeling tears start to fill your eyes. 

“I can’t fucking do this anymore Max,” you said, voice cracking. “I have to protect my heart.” 

“You know he loves you,” he said moving towards you to hold you. “Everyone knows that.” 

“If that’s true, why have I watched him with her this whole weekend? Why did I just watch him sit there when she stuck her tongue down his throat right in front of me,” you yelled and Max stayed silent. “Exactly. I need some space to figure out how things can move forward between us.” 

Max helped you carry your bag outside and the two of you stood silently waiting for the car. Just as it pulled up, Lando walked up to the house, alone. 

“Y/N!” He called out, not seeing your suitcase yet. “Where’d you run off too? I was looking for you.” 

You turned around and his eyes widened seeing your tear stained face, his gaze flickering down to your bag. 

“What’s going on?” He asked hoarsely and you just shook your head turning back to get into the car before you started to sob. 

“Let her go mate,” you heard Max tell him and you looked out the window to see him holding Lando back. The sight made you cry harder as the car finally drove off. 

Lando’s POV

Watching the car disappear down the street, Lando turned to Max, panic and confusion colliding in his mind.

“Why is she leaving, Max? What the hell happened?”

Max let out a sigh, his eyes searching Lando’s face with a mix of frustration and pity. “Mate, she’s in love with you. And honestly, you’re in love with her too, even if you haven’t figured it out yet.”

Lando froze, the weight of Max’s words hitting him harder than he expected. He thought of all the moments he spent with you—the late-night talks, the shared laughter, the comforting silence. He thought about how he’d let Mary get close, but each time she reached for him, a nagging feeling crept up inside him.

She isn’t you.

The thought was so painfully clear now. It didn’t matter how kind or fun Mary was—she wasn’t you. And suddenly, he realized why none of it felt right.

“I need to go,” Lando said suddenly. “I need to go to the airport.” 

He took off down to the main street hailing a cab but when he finally got there, you were gone. 

—--------------------------------------------

You skipped the Singapore GP. You didn’t even watch it on tv so you didn’t know why everyone was wondering why despite winning, Lando looked miserable standing on the podium. 

He had texted you a million times begging you to call him but you declined the call everytime. You were trying to move on. You’d started running again in the mornings, working out of coffee shops,  and hanging out with your girlfriends. Basically you were doing everything in your power to not think of him; and it worked until 10pm each night. Then you were miserable. 

It was two weeks after Singapore when you heard knocking at your door one evening. You weren’t expecting anyone so you were especially surprised to see Oscar standing on the other side of your door. Considering he didn’t live in Monaco, you didn’t really know what to say, just stared at him silently. 

“May I come in?” He asked politely and you nodded, stepping aside to let him through. “Nice apartment.”

“Thanks,” you replied following him into the living room. “What are you doing here?”

He settled down on your couch, motioning for you to join him and you sunk down on the other side. 

“I need you to tell me what happened when you and Lando were in Portugal,” he said slowly and you immediately looked away. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumbled, playing with your hands. 

“It does matter,” Oscar insisted. “It’s okay if you finally rejected him but I need to know how to fix him.”

Your head snapped up, “I didn’t reject him Oscar. He basically rejected me.” 

“There’s no way,” Oscar said, shocked and you told him everything that had happened from you flying to Spain for him to him making out with that girl at the club. 

“Trust me when I say that I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings, but I feel like this is a big misunderstanding,” Oscar said and you rolled your eyes. “He is so in love with you y/n. All he does is talk about you.”

“Then why did he never tell me!” You said, voice rising. “I’ve been there the whole time Oscar, and he has never said anything. I want to be with someone who isn’t afraid to love me.” 

Oscar’s heart broke at your words, knowing you were feeling this way. 

“I came here y/n, because he is a mess without you,” he said. “I’ve never seen him like this and it’s starting to affect his racing so I’m begging you to at least think about talking to him.” 

—-------------------------------------

You would have thought that Lando would stop texting after a while but he didn’t. Every morning he texted you “good morning” and gave you updates on his day even though you weren’t responding. His plan seemed to be to slowly chip away at you until you were ready to come back and unfortunately it was working. 

Brazil was the next race that your friend group was attending and you went back and forth on what you should do before finally deciding to book a flight. Max must have told Lando because you immediately were notified that your flight had been upgraded and your hotel had been booked. 

Because of a work event, you weren’t going to be able to get there until Saturday night and probably wouldn’t see Lando until qualifying or after the race. You joined Max and Pietra on the track, bright and early on Sunday morning and you were wondering how Lando would survive with it being this early in the morning. 

Oscar gave you a big hug when he saw you and you could tell he was incredibly relieved that you were there. Qualifying was 20 minutes away and you heading towards the Paddock club when you turned a corner and were immediately wrapped up in two arms. Inhaling his familiar scent, you relaxed into his touch. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he said into your ear and you hummed in reply. You were still unsure about pretending like nothing ever happened. He pulled back to look at you and his excitement was contagious, pulling a small smile out of you. 

“We’ll talk later okay?” He asked and you nodded. “I have a lot of things I need to say to you.”

He kissed your forehead before running off and you tried to keep your cool. Qualifying was good for him and you were feeling good about the race but a little nervous about the weather conditions. 

Sitting with Max and Pietra in the paddock club the mood was very much anxious. Lando had been doing great until a red flag reset everything. He had fallen down because of pitting and you watched as he went off the track on that first turn, your heart sinking. The rest of the race was a blur and he finished in P6 which you knew would not go over well with him. 

After the race, you felt hesitant heading back to the McLaren hospitality area. You weren’t sure if he’d want to see you, especially in his disappointment. But as you lingered by the entrance, you caught sight of him. Lando was drenched, exhausted, and his usual radiant energy seemed dimmed. Still, he locked eyes with you, a faint smile managing to pull at the corner of his lips.

He walked over slowly, stopping right in front of you. “You waited for me?”

“Of course I did, Lando,” you replied softly, feeling the gravity of the moment settle in. “I always do.”

He nodded, then glanced around at the crowded area. “Can we go somewhere… quieter?”

You followed him through the paddock until you found yourselves outside in a secluded spot overlooking the track. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, Lando took a deep breath.

“I was an idiot,” he began, voice raw with honesty. “You don’t know how many times I replayed that trip to Portugal, thinking about what I could’ve done differently. I didn’t understand how much it would hurt you… I was blind to everything but my own mess.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept going, unable to hold back.

“You’ve been the best part of my life for years, and it took almost losing you to realize how much I’d taken you for granted. I’m sorry, y/n. I thought I was protecting you by not… admitting how I feel. I thought if I never said it out loud, maybe it’d hurt less. But I can’t pretend anymore. I love you.”

Hearing those words, the walls you’d built around yourself began to crack, the anger and disappointment from before softening as you looked into his eyes.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” you whispered and he gave you a soft smile. 

“I know, I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.” 

When he kissed you, it was tender and full of all the unspoken words and missed opportunities between you. As you pulled away, you both smiled, feeling the weight of the past couple of weeks finally lift.

[gumified]

Omgg for a part two or ‘whispers of gold’ you could do on insight on their life after escaping the dungeon.. 💕

you can even show detail about satorus kingdom and his personal life with reader being human and him taking her there when other demons consider is improper or even hate it…

You can make it fluffy like a domestic day with them stuff like that <3

perhaps a wedding/pregnancy fic also? 🤭

pairing: demon!satoru x human!reader

summary: domestic bliss after you escape <3

content: 0.7k, fluff, just a cute little drabble i whipped up <3

note: maybe maybeee i'll write a pregnancy fic if these exams let me, we will see <3 ENJOY THO MY LOVES

If anyone told you that the life you would have found the love of your life while being locked up in a dingy dungeon you would’ve laughed in their faces. Yet here you were. The world you discover was vast and filled with so many beautiful sights that you found it hard to comprehend just how gorgeous everything is. Your whole life had been spent cooped up in the tiny village you called home, now with Satoru by your side everything seemed technicoloured. 

Days turn into weeks turn into months and you find yourself even more enamoured by the demon than you already are. He had teleported the both of you to a breath-taking meadow when you had first escaped. There was an abundance of wildflowers and in the middle stood a little cottage. It seemed as though he had plucked the perfect home from your head and spun it into reality. 

Satoru tried his best to assimilate into human life as best as he could. There were many mornings that you awoke to the sweet scent of flowers and him fumbling in the kitchen looking very out of place. He keeps his promise, taking you to the most magical places in the kingdom. Secret glades, glistening lakes, hidden forests. Satoru loves to show off his powers, teleporting you to breathtaking vistas and enchanting places, always with a playful grin and a request for a kiss as “payment.”

One particularly memorable evening, he whisked you away to a cliffside overlooking the ocean. As the sun set, casting a golden hue over the water, you sat together, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. “I thought you might like this place.” He whispered, his voice filled with warmth.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Satoru.”

The seasons changed, and with them came new adventures and experiences. Spring brought picnics in the meadow, where you would lie in the grass, watching the clouds drift by, hands intertwined. Summer meant long days by the lake, swimming and sunbathing, the two of you laughing and splashing like children. Autumn was a time for cosy evenings by the fire, wrapped in blankets, sharing stories and dreams.

And now, it was winter. Snow blanketed the ground outside, little snowflakes falling from the sky as you sat cuddling in front of a fire. His arms are wrapped around your body and you lean back against his broad chest, enjoying the feeling of his warmth radiating off his body. Satoru’s chin’s on your head and you bask in the bliss that you were now so familiar with. Your hand found his and you smiled as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 

“Remember when we first escaped?” You mused at the distant memory. “Feels like forever ago.”

“It does.” Satoru hummed as you listened to the slow beating of his heart.

Silence stretched between the both of you and all that could be heard was the gentle crackling of the fire. 

“Satoru.” You begin softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “When I first met you, I never imagined we’d end up here. You were...terrifying.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he gave a short laugh. The mere sound has butterflies erupting in your stomach. “I was trying to be. Demons aren’t supposed to be comforting.”

“But you are.” You insisted, squeezing his hand tightly. “You are to me.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “You changed everything.” His voice was quiet. “From the moment I gave you my name, I knew things would never be the same.”

You lifted your head to look into his eyes, the firelight reflecting in their depths. “You changed everything for me too. You showed me a world I never knew existed. You showed me love.”

Satoru’s expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently. “I love you.” He murmured against your lips, the words filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away.

“I love you too.” You whispered back, your heart swelling with happiness that you found. 

The grasp he had on your heart was tight and you knew he would never let go. You knew that Satoru would be yours forever and you forever his. The love you held for him was something you always cherished and now that you were here, in his arms, you never wanted to let him go. As the night continued, both of you drifted off to sleep. The fire continued to crackle and the light flickered. The matching gold bands the both of you had on your fingers glinted in the light, the memories of the promises you both made to each other only a few months ago.

[mochinomnoms]

*insert cat biting leg gif here*

You have made me feral for more domestic tweels now with the Mate for life head canon.

I imagine you living with them in the sea, and I just scream at the adorable thoughts.

Imma go hide under a rock with how cute this is.🫣

GOOD BE FERAL GET RABIES (don't actually)

I have opinions about where the twins would like to live with their partner.

If it's just Jade, I think he'd actually like to live on the surface, despite what he says. He loves hiking, exploring the forest, foraging, and well someone has to start moving the family business to the surface! He's happy to live in a cottage (he calls it a cottage, but it's more like a small mansion) in a maritime forest. It's right on the beach, a forest behind with the sea in front. It's the perfect home for an outdoor loving person. It also makes for a wonderful spot for get-togethers with your old school friends. Cater is particularly happy with the potential pictures he can take, while Malleus likes to check in on the rose bushes he gave as a wedding gift.

If it's just Floyd, he's wanting to stay in the sea. He loves his home, it's familiar and comforting. But he knows that the sea is still new to you, especially as someone from a world with no merfolk. Despite what people may think, he is quite attentive to the things (and people) he cares about. Floyd knows that the deep sea, cold and dark, isn't something you'd probably enjoy as a human. He makes a compromise and gets a villa on the reef of the Queendom of Roses, where Ace and Deuce are able to visit you often. They sometimes split time with Grim at one of their homes and he with you, it's nice.

If you're with both, they, honest to god, decide with rock-paper-scissors. You have the final veto, of course, but neither are really wanting to give up their ideal home. Maybe suggest that you downside to two smaller homes as a compromise (or not, it's not like they don't have money.)

[konigsblog]

Cute innocent cottage core you deciding to look for herbs in the woods only for a snow storm to end up starting and you lose your way! :(

Coming across a big cabin and knocking on the door only to find big mean lumberjack Price.

Little ol you shivering and trembling pleading to come inside just for a little while.

Price grumbling at what a stupid girl you are and pulling you in :(

Stripping you off your snow soaked clothes and sitting you in front of the fireplace with a blanket but you're still so cold!

Price beckoning you on to his lap so he can warm you up and you're so thankful. But then eek he starts to bad touch you! >_<

omg stop i love this idea STOP; (lumberjack!price x f!village!!reader)

you weren't planning on going out for too long, but once you looked back, you couldn't remember which way you went :( you went in multiple directions, believing you were in the correct direction, only leading you towards an old cabin. it reeked of cigars and beer, and you could hear the faint and distant sounds of a tv inside the building !! you knocked off the door, your teeth chittering due to harsh and cold climates.

an older man, a lumberjack, who's name was price answered the door, a cigar between his teeth, no doubt that was were the pungent smell of smoke lingered from. you explained you situation, desperately hoping for him to let you inside as the sky turned dark and dusk settled. “alright, c'mon.” his husky and deep voice felt comforting yet intimidating, his larger build a sign not to mess with him. “stupid fuckin' girl..” price whispered under his beer filled breath, and if you weren't in such a horrible situation, you would've gave him a piece of your mind, but instead you decided to forget about what he'd said.

his hands grasped at your jacket, pulling it off and throwing it on a coat hanger. grabbing at your hat and throwing it on the couch, dragging you along with him to his bedroom. “you'll be here for a few days, snow storm, doll.” he threw you a large t-shirt, his t-shirt, waiting for you to strip and get changed. “do you have to be in here while i change?" he sighed, grumbling. “look i'm doin' you a favour, girl.- just get changed, s'not a big deal.” he watched and inspected you as you changed, getting naked before him, quickly throwing on the piece of clothing he'd gave you. you noticed his gaze lingered on your body, a bulge beginning to form in his pants at the sight.

you felt your cunt grow wet, oddly. you ignored it, being pushed infront of the fireplace with a blanket draped over your form. you thanked him, again, an idea planted in his head. “wanna show me how grateful you are?” you thought nothing of it, niave. being thrown onto the couch, his hands already wandering up the shirt, grasping at your tits and pressing his bulge against your cunt.

a whimper escaped you lips, squirming and whimpering, feeling vulnerable underneath him :( you did wanna be grateful, though. letting him take your wet panties off, soaked from falling in the snow countless times and from your arousal. his cock sprung from his boxers, shoving himself inside you without preparation, listening to your mewls and gasps !! you whined, feeling as he began pounding into you. “c'mon, sweethear', told me you wanted to be grateful..” he encouraged you to fuck yourself back on his meaty cock, the stretch painful yet pleasurable, grinding yourself back on his length :((((

“that's it, show me that you're glad i've let you inside.” you increaded your pace, desperately trying to show him that you were thankful, fucking yourself back ok his size until he came all inside you :( making such a mess and forcing you to lick it all up while he takes your ass this time ! his cock buried inside your ass, hole stretched to allow his big dick, slamming into you again and again until you were gasping for air :( then giving him head, tasting the mixture of your slick and bitter cum on your tongue, wincing at the metallic, bitter taste. “still don't think you're that thankful..”

you sat on his lap, letting him grope you while he smoked a cigar, blowing the smoke into your face and spanking your pretty, raw pussy whenever you scrunched your face up in disgust. “good girl, lettin' me touch you like this.. so naughty, what would the others think about you bein' fucking stupid by a lumberjack?”

[fettuccinealfred0]

Til Death Do Us Part | Epilogue

Series Masterlist

Astarion x f!reader, Arranged Marriage AU

Word Count: 13k

(CW: SMUT 18+, face sitting, cunnilingus, overstimulation, blow jobs, fingering, unprotected p in v, some cute role playing, Astarion really likes the sound of his own voice)

Summary:

You feel Astarion’s hand move, his thumb running along the length of your palm up to brush against the ring on his finger. 

“We met at my ball. A year ago, tonight.”

Though the beat of your heart is missing and it no longer flutters away inside your chest, a familiar warmth spreads through your veins all the same. 

“Happy anniversary,” you say and you feel a goofy smile spreading across your face.

“Not yet, my love,” Astarion says, but he smiles just as wide. “Not for another two days.”

Read on ao3 here

You could watch Astarion sleep forever. His mouth hangs open slightly and his gentle breathing mixes with the sound of waves. His face is so soft when he’s asleep and with the sun shining off his hair, he can only be described as angelic. 

The two of you are still on the beach, laying on the blanket spread out over the rock. Your feet are tangled with Astarion’s as you curl on your side to watch him doze. Touching. Always touching. The thought makes you smile.

When he wakes up, his long, pale lashes blink open slowly and his arms reach out to pull you tighter against him. You shower his face with kisses and he basks in your affection. 

By the late afternoon, the two of you decide to finally head back to the cottage. There had been a tentative plan for your first day in the sun which most certainly did involve you and Astarion making love on the beach, but which did not account for how long that would take. You probably should have woken Astarion up if you wanted to stick to the schedule, but he was sleeping so peacefully beside you and it seemed like a crime to disturb him. 

And besides, it’s not like the two of you were in a rush- being immortal meant there would be endless time for you both to explore the abilities that Mephistopheles had returned to you.

As you watch Astarion lazily pull on his trousers and shrug back on his shirt, you can’t help but think that he can be a little right sometimes- it is rather devastating to lose sight of his perfect body.

After watching him dress, you push yourself up from sitting on the rock, sliding your chemise and your loosened corset over your head. 

“Help, please,” you say, turning your back to Astarion so he can help lace up your corset. 

“Now, why would I do that? Helping you back in your clothes doesn’t benefit me in the slightest.”

“Astarion,” you whip around to face him with narrowed eyes. “If you aren’t going to help me, then you’re the one that’s going up to the house to fetch Shadowheart because there is no way I am walking back up there with my corset in hand like some kind of cheap harlot. And you know Shadowheart is going to be exceptionally ill-tempered if you bother her since I gave her the day off.”

You watch as he weighs out which option he finds more annoying in his head. 

“Turn around,” he grumbles. He drops a kiss to your shoulder and sighs. “You know, I have a love-hate relationship with this thing. I can’t deny that it makes your breasts look wonderful, but if you’re wearing it, that means I can’t actually see them, which is a travesty.”

“Poor Astarion,” you tease. “For he cannot always be touching his wife’s perfect breasts.”

“No,” he teases back, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Sometimes, I have to touch her cunt instead.”

“You’re too clever for your own good.” You playfully shove his head off your shoulder and he laughs, hands finally moving to help with your corset.

You know he does a purposefully bad job lacing it up. It doesn’t bother you too much because you also know that Astarion would likely be encouraging you to shed the offending garment from your body almost immediately upon your return to the house.

You reward him for his troubles with a peck on the cheek. Astarion seemingly deems it not enough payment for his efforts because he grabs your hips and dips you back into a bruising kiss that leaves you a bit weak in the knees. After a few more kisses, the two of you take your time walking back up to the cottage, your entwined fingers swinging loosely between you. 

When you enter, there’s a lavish spread of food in the kitchen- meats and cheeses and fancy chocolate desserts. The two of you had told the kitchen staff to make everything but evidently you had underestimated how much everything there was. 

When you sneak a peek at Astarion’s face, he looks a bit too overwhelmed by all the choices so you take over, instructing the kitchen staff to bring wine and to load a tray full of berries and sweet little tarts and the fancy chocolate desserts and deliver it all to your and Astarion’s bedroom. You aren’t sure why, but you have the sneaking suspicion that Astarion has a bit of a sweet tooth. 

When the staff ask what to do with the rest of the food, you tell them to throw a feast of their own tonight. 

And as you expected, the moment the door is shut to the bedroom, Astarion is pulling his shirt back off and helping you strip back out of your clothes to pull you onto the bed with him. 

As the two of you lounge on the bed together, you press different fruits to Astarion’s lips for him to taste. It hadn’t been that long since you’d eaten, but watching Astarion was something special. The way his eyes closed in pleasure. The way he would let out a little moan when he tasted something he really liked. The way he would lean over to lick the up the juices that ran down your arm when you fed him a particularly juicy strawberry. 

Eventually, you both grow bored of the food and the tray lays discarded on the other side of the room. The two of you curl into one another, sated and content.

Astarion’s hand rests on your stomach and you absentmindedly roll his wedding ring around his finger as you watch the curtains swaying in the breeze. The sun dips back down over the horizon. 

Astarion knocks his head lightly against yours to guide your attention back to him. 

“It’s been a year now, you know.”

You turn your head to look at him quizzically. “A year?”

You aren’t even sure you know the date, let alone why it holds any special significance outside the fact that it was your first day in the sunlight. You had unfortunately lost track of time in your haze of being a newborn vampire.

You feel Astarion’s hand move, his thumb running along the length of your palm up to brush against the ring on his finger. 

“We met at my ball. A year ago, tonight.”

Though the beat of your heart is missing and it no longer flutters away inside your chest, a familiar warmth spreads through your veins all the same. 

“Happy anniversary,” you say and you feel a goofy smile spreading across your face.

“Not yet, my love,” Astarion says, but he smiles just as wide. “Not for another two days.”

You roll your eyes affectionately but the two of you continue smiling at one another until Astarion leans over to kiss you. The sweet press of his lips against yours deepens as his tongue slides into your mouth. You whine when he pulls away.

“Always so needy, always so desperate for me,” Astarion murmurs.

You huff out a laugh and stretch lazily, playfully elbowing him. “Keep talking like that and I’ll rescind the comment I was going to make that I like you better now than I did at this time last year.”

Astarion simply smiles at your insincere taunt and props his head up on his hand, looking down on you with the hungry eyes of a predator playing with its food. 

“I don’t know, I found it rather amusing when you held that butter knife up to my throat.”

“That’s just because you thought I didn’t know how to use it. You know better now.”

He gives you a condescending, arrogant smile. “It’s cute that you still think you can get the upper hand on me.”

And because you like nothing more in this world than proving people wrong, you reach out, quickly wrapping a leg around Astarion’s hip and pressing on his shoulders to push him backward so you are sitting on top of him, straddling him. You catch his hands with yours, lovingly threading your fingers together before you wrench his hands over his head. 

He doesn’t even try to fight back, which is boring.

“Still don’t think I have the upper hand?” you ask.

“No, I know you don’t.” Astarion’s arms flex underneath yours, pushing back against your hold. There’s a hidden strength there.

“And yet, I’m the one who came out on top.” 

You squeeze his hands to accentuate your point, a silent reminder that he is the one at your mercy right now. 

“Cute,” Astarion says and you shoot him a glare. 

And then, with the graceful elegance of a cat, Astarion manages to flip the two of you so that he is the one pinning you down on the bed. 

“But just know, darling, the only reason you were there is because I adore having you on top of me.” 

You test his hold on your arms but he’s stronger than he looks and your hands are locked in an iron vice.

“Fine, you win,” you admit reluctantly.

“And what do I get as my prize?” Astarion’s got a mischievous little gleam in his eye that spells trouble.

“What do you want?”

He drags his nose down your throat, inhaling your scent. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to ask for a bite. A silly request considering you had never refused him in the past. But Astarion simply retraces his path up your neck, gliding his tongue along your skin.

“Touch yourself,” he rasps, tongue skimming the shell of your ear. “Let me watch.”

Astarion rolls off you, sprawling among the pillows on the bed. His gaze trails along your body like a caress. Down the curve of your shoulder, over the valley of your breasts. Perfect, he had called them earlier. His eyes continue lower, staring expectantly at the juncture of your thighs.

“Well,” Astarion says impatiently. “I’m waiting.”

Beneath his cocky veneer, you recognize that this is Astarion asking your permission, presenting you with the opportunity to deny him. But what idiotic person would ever do that? Who wouldn’t allow the moon and stars to worship them? 

You sit yourself up to lean back against the wall of pillows on the bed and you spread your legs open before him. Astarion inches closer ever so slightly, staring at you with the same awed fascination of a man looking upon the divine.

You really put on a show for him, too- taking the time to let your hands wander your skin. His tongue darts out, wetting his perfect red lips, almost as if he is already fantasizing about the taste of you on his tongue.

When your hand finally makes contact with your cunt, you move your fingers in the way that you have taught yourself over the years, chasing after climax in moments of pent up frustration. Straightforward. To the point.

“No, slow down,” Astarion instructs. “I want to watch you struggle. Only when you have reached the heights of your desperation, only when you have gone delirious with need, only when you beg for it, will I grant you the release you so desire.”

You slow your movements. It’s a poor imitation of what you know Astarion is capable of- all clumsy where his hands are deft, all amateur where he is pure grace. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he orders, propping himself up to move closer to you. 

“Good,” you tell him, honestly. Because it does feel good. Just not as good as you know it could.

Astarion’s eyes narrow when he senses your hesitance. “What else?”

“Not the same as yours…” you confess in a whisper and you feel your skin flushing with heat. “Gods, the things you can do with your hands could bring the world to ruin.”

“Would you like that?” Astarion’s fingers stroke along your ankle, sending streaks of pleasure curling up around your legs, straight to your aching clit, which you roll slippery circles against with your fingers. “Would you like for me to bring you the world, bloody and bruised in my hands, and present it to you as a token of my love?”

You aren’t entirely sure whether Astarion genuinely means this or if this is a role he is adopting for this moment. All you know is that the desperate whine that forces its way from your chest is agonizingly real. 

“You liked that, did you, pet?” Astarion chuckles, all dark and deep and sending a chill down your spine. “You want to hear how I’d burn the world for you? How I’d take the charred remains and mold it in your shape?” His thumb traces little circles around your ankle bone. “I would have blotted out the sun for you. I would have made it rain death and darkness and chaos if we had not found our cure. I would have drowned the world in corruption and laid the soaking remains at your feet.”

And you know he’s not lying- that in another life, all these words are true. It shouldn’t turn you on. It does anyway. 

Astarion’s hands burn where they brush your calf. He touches you possessively, as if your body was simply an extension of his own.

And if he will not touch you where you need him the most, you will let yourself drown in his voice. You will let his words caress your skin where his hands will not. You will hear more of how this man you love would destroy the world, if only you asked.

“More,” you plead with him and he grins arrogantly.

He speaks with a newfound confidence, fingers running up and down your calf, but never any higher. 

“Just think of what we’re going to do to them, my beloved. All those fools… They think they know what true power looks like, but we’ll show them. We’ll rule from the shadows. And you, my queen, only need to point. I shall be your weapon. I shall be the one to enact your ruthless judgment upon the world.”

Astarion is relishing in the sound of his own voice, as well. His other hand falls down to languidly stroke his cock. There’s a lovely bead of moisture at the tip and your mouth waters, you want nothing more than to lean over and take him in your mouth, to let his hands thread in your hair as he guides your mouth along his hard length…

Astarion gently nips at your thigh, drawing your attention back to him. 

“And do you know how I plan to begin my crusade?” he asks, but doesn’t give you any time to answer. “I’ll start with all those men. Anyone who ever looked at you as less than the goddess you are. Any of them who spoke- No, dared to even think of you in a degrading, vulgar manner. Any of them who merely wasted your time by boring you with their presence.” 

Astarion’s hand curls around your knee, slender fingers brushing the sensitive skin along the back and making you shiver. He wrenches your leg open wider, giving himself a better view of the way your fingers slide along your cunt. 

His gaze stays transfixed on your cunt as he speaks. “I’ll kill them all.”

You shouldn’t want that but oh, you do. That bloodthirsty, hungry part of you wants nothing more than to watch Astarion rip those men limb from limb, to watch him bathe himself in their blood and allow you to lick it clean from his skin afterward. 

You reward Astarion by sinking one of your fingers into yourself and his mouth hangs open in awe. Slowly, his head has moved closer to you and your obscene wetness makes you acutely aware of each panting breath he releases. His grip tightens desperately around your knee, as if he is having to clutch onto you to hold himself back from reaching out to touch you. 

You move your finger slowly, letting the palm of your heel continue to graze against your aching clit. It’s not enough. It’s not Astarion- you aren’t full enough, your fingers don’t curl and hit that spot Astarion always manages to find.

“Gods, you’re perfect,” Astarion whispers in breathless praise and you feel the way your cunt tightens around your finger. You know that if he was buried deep inside you, that would have made him moan and his hips would stutter before he rutted into you even faster, even harder.

“What did I ever do before you?” He turns his head, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Do you have any idea how it feels to gaze upon perfection?”

Yes, you think. You know that feeling intimately as perfection is gazing up at you right now, his head resting in your lap as his blood-red eyes devour you. 

His voice is low and dark. “For months, I kept myself away from you, spent my time longing and pining and waiting for you to return to my arms. For months, all I had to sustain myself on was the memories of your silken skin. Of the pool of nectar hidden between your thighs. Of the noises you make. Oh,” Astarion cries out and his hand picks up speed where it strokes his cock. “Those pretty noises. I missed those the most.”

You make one such noise now- a desperate, gasping moan.

Astarion’s eyes are ruthless when they dart up to your face. “If you ever left me-”

“Never,” you cut him off.

You’ll speak with him about that insecurity later- assuage him and assure him until every doubt has been killed from his mind. But not now. Now is the time to feed into this wonderful power fantasy the two of you are discovering together. 

You let out another sound, a pitiful whine, annoyed that your hands have brought you teetering so close to the precipice of bliss with no hope of falling over it.

“Do you need me that badly, pet?” Astarion chides, his hand mercifully moving higher up your leg, closer, so close, almost right there, nearly at the spot you need him to touch you. He stops. You nearly sob.  

“I wouldn’t have let you leave me anyway,” he hisses, fingers digging into the flesh of your hip so hard that you worry it would leave bruises if you were still human. And thank the gods you aren’t if it means Astarion can clutch at you with such desperate abandon with little to no consequences to you. “Besides, if you had, I would have followed you. Anywhere you went, to the ends of the earth. Understand?”

You nod.

You know there is a metaphorical truth to his words. If you wanted, Astarion would have let you leave. But his heart would have followed after you. Just as surely as yours would have stayed with him. 

“You have to say it if you want me to touch you.” You feel Astarion smirking where his mouth rests against your thigh. He has enjoyed this- has enjoyed watching you back yourself into a corner. Now, it was time for him to pounce. 

“I understand.”

Astarion descends with the ferocity of a man whose very last shred of control was hanging on by a thread. He sucks your fingers into his mouth, messy and ravenous, as if he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your arousal. His own hand quickly takes over, slipping a finger inside you and curling it so good. Your hands claw desperately at the sheets. 

You come almost immediately. After so much build up, it was little wonder it would happen so quickly. What is a wonder is that Astarion immediately pulls his hand and mouth away from you rather than driving you repeatedly to the brink of madness like you had expected. 

For lack of a better term, the whole thing is anticlimactic.

Astarion, seemingly sensing your disappointment, reclines back on the pillows behind him.

“Well, come on, then.” He gives your ass an affectionate pat, silently instructing you to move on top of him. “I’ve given you one. You’ll have to work for the rest of them.”

You crawl over to him, moving to sling your leg around his hips, wanting nothing more than to grind yourself against his cock and guide him into you.

“Not there, pet,” he catches your leg, reflexes still somehow lightning quick even when you know he has to be distracted by how hard he is. 

“Sit on my face,” Astarion says, using his grip on your leg to pull your knee up by his shoulder. 

And out of everything that has happened today- from making a deal with an archdevil to watching a breathtaking sunrise to discovering Astarion has a penchant for blackberries- this request is what has shocked you the most.

 “But what about you?”

Astarion laughs, his soft fingers stroking along the back of your leg. “My motivations are not selfless, if that’s what concerns you, little flower. Your cunt is my favorite meal. I need to spend time appreciating it with these new taste buds. And besides, this bed is just so comfortable. You’ll forgive me if I want to lay back and relax while I feast for once.”

“But I want you to feel good, too,” you pout.

“I assure you, I do.” Astarion tugs more insistently on your hip and you move, knees framing either side of his head. 

“You can stop whenever you want.”

“I know, my love,” Astarion’s face softens and he catches your left hand, bringing it to his lips so he can press a kiss to your knuckles, right under your wedding ring. “Now, as much as I appreciate you checking in with me, you’re keeping me from my plans of drowning between your thighs.”

His arms, soft and surprisingly strong, wrap around your hips and pull you down. His nose brushes along the thatch of hair on your pubic bone before he continues to move it lower. And for a moment, the two of you sit like that, with you shivering in anticipation and Astarion simply breathing against your cunt. 

And then, his mouth is on you and there’s lightning running through your veins. He presses an open mouthed kiss to your cunt before his tongue flattens and he licks.

You feel his strangled groan reverberating in your own bones as he continues lapping. His nose brushes against your clit and you have to reach out one of your hands to steady yourself on the headboard. Your other hand winds its way into Astarion’s hair, tugging at the white curls whenever he does something especially wonderful. Which is… pretty much always. 

When the gods made Astarion, they surely started with his tongue. 

The whole time, his hands stroke and knead along the flesh of your thighs and ass, guiding you to start rolling your hips. It has his nose moving against your clit in a way that has you seeing stars and gasping for air.

Astarion leads to climax again. And again. And again.

Astarion plays your body like it is a violin and he is your virtuoso. He plucks and pulls at the strings, creating a symphony of music that threatens to overwhelm you. Your thighs ache and burn and still you continue rolling your hips against his face. Still, he continues to lap at your cunt with the fervor of a dying man.

At some point, you have transcended your corporeal form. Nothing else exists but these waves of pleasure- constant, unending.

Surely, the ringing you hear in your ears is some form of holy communion. Surely, the gods in the heavens have finally noticed Astarion missing from their ranks and have come to summon him home.

Your grip in his hair slackens. Your head bows in reverence.

It takes you far too long to register that Astarion’s mouth is no longer upon you.

“There you are,” He says, voice a low rasp. “You were missing from me for a moment.”

His beauty is stunning. His chin is glistening, his lips are red and swollen, his white curls are messy and wild. And best of all, he’s got that pretty, pink blush on his cheeks.

Astarion’s hands continue rubbing soothingly along your thighs, anchoring you back to your body.

“Too much, too good,” you slur out. 

Your whole body feels all delightfully fuzzy and light as air. 

Astarion slides out from underneath your legs and gathers you in his arms. You’re sure that you are very moldable and easy to move around right now since you think you might have turned into liquid.

You feel Astarion lips brush against your forehead as he wraps his arms tighter around you. Faintly, you register him praising how good you did, how you listened so well, how you gifted him with yet another lovely moment to cherish forever. The whole time, his fingers knead gently into your muscles, easing away the dull aching in your hips. You simply sigh and curl further into him.  

“We should have a ball,” you say, tracing your fingers in little heart shapes over his chest. “To celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?”

“Our anniversary.”

Astarion’s lips press against your forehead. “We’ll have as many balls as you want. Gods, you can have whatever you want, you only need to say the word and I’ll get it for you. Or, well- I’ll have someone else get it for you, more likely.”

You giggle. “What about a kiss?”

“Hm, I think I can handle that by myself.”

—-----------------

FOUR YEARS LATER

The dress you're wearing tonight truly is breathtaking. In the past, the price of the red silk alone would have nearly made your jaw drop, but you had gotten used to prices like that after years of Astarion waving them away like they were nothing. 

‘What’s the point of money if you aren’t going to spend it,’ Astarion had said. 

After the dressmaker had finished construction, Astarion had spent weeks embroidering the material. The front of the gown only hinted at the masterful craftsmanship- just a delicate chain of flowers along your waist, but the long train which followed you was decadent to the extreme. The lovely red had been nearly covered in the shimmery gold thread, a garden following behind you. 

Astarion had said it was some of his best work to date and had praised you as his muse. 

And the past few months, you had gotten to enjoy a lot of time watching him as the two of you sat out in the gardens in the sunlight, entranced by how his fingers were able to move the tiny silver needle so easily, spinning gold seemingly out of thin air. He never pricked himself, like you and the roses. 

And of course, Astarion had insisted that the two of you matched. His waistcoat was the same blood red fabric covered in flowers that he had embroidered.

Astarion had even humored you by letting you sew some little stars onto the inner lining of his waistcoat, right over his unbeating heart. He had feigned that he had been doing you some big favor, allowing you to put your mark on his body, but you caught how his eyes went a little misty when he saw your work.

“You look wonderful, darling,” Astarion slides up behind you as stand before the mirror, attempting to clasp the ruby necklace behind your neck. His hands meet your own and he deftly clasps the chain into place before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest.

Your reflection grins back at him.

“We can see our reflections and still, the mirror doesn’t do you justice,” Astarion says, nose trailing over your collarbone to the juncture of your neck where he always likes to bite down. He surprises you by redirecting instead, coming up to whisper huskily in your ear, “The way this fabric hugs your body, the way the silk brings out the red in your eyes, the way the diamonds in your hair shine like stars in the night sky, those are all things too lovely to be captured by a simple pane of glass.”

You turn your head toward him and Astarion lips move closer and closer to yours with each word until they are just a hair’s breadth away. The anticipation is killing you, but you hold steady, daring him to meet you. 

He brings his hand up to gently cradle the back of your head-

“Don’t mess up her hair!” Shadowheart yells from across the room, where she’s fiddling with all the leftover hairpins. She huffs quietly to herself, “I spent forever on that.”

You and Astarion are shocked out of your trance, his hand immediately dropping away from your hair. Astarion is so startled by her presence that his cool facade even slips for a moment as he mutters out a quiet ‘sorry.’

“What’s she still doing here?” He whispers to you just loud enough that you know Shadowheart can hear and roll her eyes. 

You use the opportunity to slip out of his arms and continue getting ready.

“I asked her to stay,” you tell him, pulling the gloves up your arms. You watch the twin marks on your wrist disappear as you slide on the silken white fabric. “I don’t trust myself around you and I’m determined to get down to the ball on time this year.”

You hold out your wrist so Astarion can clasp the slippery little buttons along the side. He just stares at you for a moment, giving you a look like ‘you know this kind of task is beneath me’ and you jut your wrist at him a bit more insistently and he rolls his eyes as he grabs your arm. 

“I assure you, little flower,” Astarion says as he buttons your glove, placing a delicate kiss to your wrist before he moves on to the other. “You would have made it to the ball on time.”

“That’s what you said last year. And then we ended up being an hour late.”

No, if you were allowed to be alone with Astarion, he would surely have already bent you over your vanity by now and your throat would be decorated by a necklace of his bite marks. And as beautiful as blood and jewels go together, it would have certainly distracted from the ornate ruby necklace Astarion had given you as a fifth anniversary present.

Five years. Has it really been that long already? Or have you simply been too happy to notice the time passing?

“I don’t recall hearing any complaints from you last year, my love. In fact, I do believe you said ‘more’ quite a few times,” Astarion’s hand drops and rests heavily on your hip. “And besides, who cares what those idiots think?”

“We have to at least pretend to care about propriety, darling,” you remind Astarion and he rolls his eyes. You know he’s going to say something like ‘fuck propriety, let the world know how a true man satisfies his wife,’ so you gently rearrange the folds of his cravat as you speak, “There’s going to be a lot of important people here tonight. We need to uphold their high opinion of us if we hope to continue to use them.”

“I love the way you think,” he says with a wicked gleam in his eye, pulling you back into his arms. 

Shadowheart loudly clears her throat and Astarion glares at her but steps away from you.

“Don’t be upset, husband, there’s still plenty of time to let you plant your seed in my garden tonight,” you say, giving Astarion a big wink at your double entendre.

He looks mortified for a moment before he’s practically falling over in laughter. “Be honest, little flower, how long have you been waiting to use that line?”

“It just came to me.”

Astarion tilts your chin up, a devilish smirk on his beautiful face. “That won’t be the only thing coming in you tonight.”

“You two are strange and… off-putting.” Shadowheart has a look of disgust on her face that has you burying your head in Astarion’s chest to laugh.

“Speaking of strange, Lae’zel is going to be here tonight. I’m sure she’d love it if you made an appearance downstairs long enough for her to ask you for a dance,” Astarion says and Shadowheart’s face turns bright red as she tries to excuse herself from the room as quickly as possible. 

“Look at what you did!” You cry out. “You chased off a perfectly good Shadowheart!” 

“Yes, but now I can finally do this.”

Astarion leans down to kiss you, careful to keep his hands resting on your hips and far away from your ornate hairstyle. You sigh happily against his lips and he presses a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth before he pulls away.

“You ready?” he asks, holding his arm out to you. 

You tuck yourself into his side and the two of you make your way down to the party.

Of course, because this is a ball hosted by Astarion, there’s a big fanfare at your entrance as your names are announced. The two of you descend down the stairs with the grace and elegance that only two vampires can possess. When you reach the ballroom, people are swarming the two of you immediately, begging to speak with you and offer their congratulations on your anniversary. 

The gentry were practically throwing themselves at your feet and what were you supposed to do? Stop them? No, not when it was so much more fun to encourage them. 

You and Astarion make your initial rounds, but your eyes continue scanning the crowds. You hope your father comes again this year. It always fills you with glee, the fact that he shows up every year and is forced to celebrate your anniversary with Astarion. Forced to watch you be happy and in love and thriving. That he continues to grow old and wither away while you and Astarion retain your youthful glows. 

You spot him over by the wine and you’re filled with the wicked thought that maybe one year, you would kill him, make it look like a drunken old fool had stumbled out into the woods and been attacked by an animal. 

Astarion’s hand comes to the small of your back. Touching. Always touching. His breath whispers against your ear, “Oh, I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that glare. Tell me, wife, who do you want me to kill for you tonight?”

“No one,” you think for a moment. “Yet.”

A sly grin spreads across your husband’s face. “Only speak the words and it shall be done. I am yours to command.”

“Oh, I know you are, pet,” you tease him, trying to sound like him. You even give him a little pat on the cheek for added effect. Astarions bares his fangs playfully at you.

“Come dance with me, I’m bored,” you tug on his hand.

You let Astarion wrap you in his arms and spin you around the dancefloor.

“Should I be hurt that you aren’t tripping over your feet at the sight of me anymore, little flower?”

“No, I just have expensive tastes now,” you giggle. “I fear I’m growing too used to awe-inspiring beauties such as yours.”

Astarion’s hand moves down your back, just a bit too low to be acceptable. “Sounds like you’re getting too spoiled.”

“I’m not the one to blame for that problem, star. Not when you insist on buying me far too many lavish gifts.”

“You might be right,” Astarion agrees with a chuckle. “I just can’t help myself. My gifts always look so beautiful on you and your face always lights up so bright. It’s addictive, your smile.”

You smile brightly up at him and Astarion looks upon you with adoration. 

“Pardon the intrusion,” Wyll interrupts with a friendly hand on Astarion’s shoulder. “But I believe I was promised a dance?”

He bows elegantly and extends his hand out.

“Wyll!” You cry out happily. “You know that I always save a dance for you!”

“Who said I was asking you?” Wyll playfully holds his hand out to Astarion, who feigns a delighted shock. “Lord Ancunin, if I may.”

“Cute,” you say, looking between the two of them and pouting. “But you can dance with Astarion later. Right now, it’s my turn.”

They both laugh. 

“Have fun.” Astarion drops a kiss on your cheek and passes you off to Wyll. “I’ll go speak with Lord Idril about our stance on the upcoming council vote. He’s the last person we need to sway.”

The upcoming vote was about providing relief to farmers after a particularly long and harsh winter. You and Astarion really did try to use your influence for good from time to time honestly.

The two of you simply had your own methods for doing good that others might qualify as ‘morally questionable’ and ‘deeply manipulative.’ 

Astarion glides away with a charming smile on his face, waving at adoring nobles as he passes by like he’s the king himself.

“I can’t even imagine the size of his ego by the end of the night,” Wyll says.

You don’t mind too much, Astarion with an ego in public turned into a mouthy Astarion in the bedroom later. The ego boost of the ball was most certainly worth it if you were the one to reap the rewards at the end of the night. 

But you’re fairly certain that Wyll doesn’t want to hear about your methods for taming a wild Astarion so you turn the conversation back to him with a friendly smile.

“How have you been?” you ask as the two of you begin to step in time to the music. 

“Can’t complain. Karlach and I have been traveling along the Sword Coast, as of late.”

“Ah, yes, the formidable Blade of Frontiers,” you tease but you catch the way Wyll’s chest puffs out proudly at the nickname. “That’s what they’re calling you now, right? I’ve been keeping up with your adventures through Volo’s books.”

Wyll rolls his eyes. “Volo… If I fought half as many battles half as valiantly as he writes, I’d wholly be dead.” 

You laugh. Volo was always known for his exaggerations, but you had been so proud when he decided to start following Karlach and Wyll since it kept you up to date on their valiant adventures.

“It’s good storytelling. His books are always best-sellers for a reason,” you say with a shrug. “And besides, I quite like to imagine you and Karlach out there slaying dragons and hunting down devils.”

Wyll laughs, “Yes, devils have become a bit of a speciality of ours.”

“Where’s she at by the way? I haven’t seen her yet this evening.” 

“She’s here, but she’s doing her own dancing,” Wyll grins when he speaks of Karlach and you wonder if his smile is a bit too affectionate to be considered friendly. “She doesn’t like all the stuffy rich-people small talk.”

“Gods, and who could blame her?” You groan when you and Wyll hear the couple next to you discussing how they think you and Astarion sourced the shrimp. “They seem to be exceptionally dull this evening.”

The two of you giggle together and Wyll spins you in a delightful twirl.

“So,” he asks when he brings you back from the twirl, “How are the renovations on the Szarr palace going?”

“Ancunin palace,” you correct him. 

In the interests of venturing into the political landscape of Baldur’s Gate, you and Astarion had decided to renovate the old Szarr palace to use as a secondary base. It had been sitting vacant in the years since Astarion had left and a couple bands of rogues and thieves managed to find their way inside, tearing the place apart. 

A part of you was almost glad when you and Astarion had discovered the disrepair- it felt like poetic symbolism of how his life as a spawn was dead and behind him and that now, he could build something beautiful in its place. 

You and Astarion had spent a long time hiring new staff to work at the palace and even longer working on plans for the renovations. Astarion leaned toward opulence and grandeur in all areas of life, so his ideas were rather… ambitious. It had taken a while to find guild artisans who met his high standards of craftsmanship (and that’s not even mentioning the headache of how few people specialize in gold metalwork, which Astarion would still complain about at length when the mood struck him). 

But aside from your husband’s expensive tastes, the whole process had been mostly fun. The two of you had spent many afternoons laying out in the gardens, swapping fantasies of how you pictured each room in the palace looking. It felt like the two of you were building a home together.

A very expensive, very gold home, but a home, nonetheless. 

Your visits to the palace were still infrequent, however. Astarion still had nightmares and episodes that always seemed to get worse after a visit. You hated to see him in pain and you knew he was frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t simply will himself out of those moments. 

You both knew it would still take time. Luckily, time was the one thing the two of you had in abundance. 

“It’s been slow progress,” you answer Wyll. “There’s lots of memories there, so I think it will take us a while. Though, we are planning another trip to the city soon. How’s your father doing?”

“He’s well,” Wyll smiles and you know he is grateful you asked. Both he and his father adored talking about one another. It was wonderful to see a family with that much love, even as the two of them attempted to navigate past their previous differences.

Astarion had told you about Wyll’s complicated relationship with his father soon after you had met him. Since you and Astarion were beginning to make a name for yourselves in Baldur’s Gate and Wyll’s father was the Duke of the city, it only made sense to introduce yourselves. It didn’t hurt that Duke Ravengard was surprisingly refreshing company in a city full of pompous nobles. 

“He’s sorry he couldn’t make it tonight but he wanted me to extend an invitation for you and Astarion to dine with him again next time you visit Baldur’s Gate,” Wyll says. “Father said that he’d be sure to buy more wine this time so Astarion doesn’t bleed him dry again.”

“I do apologize, bleeding people dry is a particularly nasty habit of mine,” Astarion interrupts.

You know your face lights up when you see him, even if you have only been parted for a few short dances.

“If you’ll excuse me, Wyll.” Astarion’s hand rests on your lower back and you lean into his side instinctually. “I think I’d like another dance with my wife.”

“Of course,” Wyll smiles at the two of you. “And congratulations on your anniversary.” He leans in to whisper conspiratorially to you, but loud enough that Astarion can overhear. “Somehow, you’ve made Astarion considerably less insufferable to be around. We all owe you our thanks for that.”

“I’m not insufferable,” Astarion pouts, pulling your body against his far tighter than most of the other married couples dancing together. 

“No, darling,” you reassure him. “Not unless your feet are cold.”

He was a particular sort of monster when he was cold. It was lucky that you knew a few good ways to warm him back up. 

“Little minx.” He pinches your hip affectionately. “You’re far too much trouble. I’m not sure why I bother to keep you around.”

“Cause you love me.” You move your hand up from his shoulder to cradle the back of his head, stroking your thumb along the sharp line of his jaw.

Astarion’s eyes soften. “I do, don’t I?”

He looks so handsome, you think to yourself. The red in his waistcoat really does bring out the shade of his eyes and when he’s staring at you like this, his heart nearly bleeds out of them. You let your hand drop from Astarion’s face when it is time for Astarion to twirl you in the dance. He pulls you back into him, your back against his chest.

“Got the vote by the way,” his voice is a whisper in your ear. 

He means to disguise his true intentions of political scheming as a loving husband whispering words of affection in his wife’s ear. And he really did whisper in your ear often enough that his actions hardly turned any eyes. 

“Turns out Idril really doesn’t want his wife to find out about the bastards he’s left around the Lower City. Thanks for that bit of gossip by the way.” Astarion twirls you out again and you miss the cool line of his body pressed against your back. 

You give him one of your ‘I told you so’ smiles. “I knew that damned sewing circle would feed me something good eventually. It’s all about playing the long game for you and I.”

“Be honest, darling,” Astarion smirks, “you really just like taking credit for my embroidery, don’t you?”

He’s only partially right. You mostly like showing off his work because you’re proud to have such a talented husband. It’s a very small part of you that does enjoy passing it off as your own since your own attempts at needlework were typically abysmal. 

You laugh. “Oh, don’t pretend you aren’t listening through the walls as they praise your work.”

“Do you really think so little of me as to believe I need the approval of a group of old married hags?” Astarion gasps in faux offense. You giggle and he drops the act to laugh along with you. “Did you enjoy your dance with Wyll?”

“I did. Wyll’s an excellent dancer,” you answer. And then, because you can’t resist teasing Astarion, you add, “Some might say he’s better than you.”

“Oh, really?” Astarion raises his eyebrows. 

“Some might. But not me.”

Astarion looks so pleased with himself, like he could exist off your praise alone. 

“It’s all about the right partner,” he says, repeating one of your favorite phrases back to you.

“And I’m lucky that I found mine.” 

The smile he gives you is radiant. 

Over his shoulder, you catch sight of Gale, trying to get Astarion’s attention. “Looks like Gale is here with your little snack.”

You give both Gale and the woman standing next to him a friendly wave. Now that you are a more experienced vampire, you have better control over your bloodlust and so, about a year ago you had started feeding from the townspeople that you and Astarion payed. It has allowed you to develop tenuous friendships with a few of them. 

But tonight, the two of you had a plan. This snack was for Astarion alone.

Astarion kisses you in a way that is far too scandalous for public eyes. Over the years, that kind of behavior has come to be expected from the two of you, so people simply avert their gazes. And anyone that is staring at you in shock, you simply ignore, choosing instead to enjoy the way Astarion’s fingers curl underneath your chin to tilt your face up to his and the way his lips slide sweetly against yours.

“See you in a few minutes,” he murmurs before he’s walking over to Gale. 

You mingle a while longer before you leisurely make your way out to the gardens, following Astarion. The warm summer night doesn’t feel quite as hot against your skin as it did when you were human. It’s easy to find Astarion now. You know the path in the garden and, more than that, you can smell him. You can practically taste the sharp metallic sting in the air from the woman he’s drinking. 

But it’s not your job to find him easily tonight so you wander, slipping your gloves down your arms and discarding them on a bench to be picked up later as you let your hands brush along the delicate rose petals. You need to make Astarion a new bouquet soon, you think absentmindedly, the one currently in his study was starting to droop.

Eventually, you round the corner to the spot where you know Astarion will be.

He has the woman in his arms, his mouth on her throat. You think back to that first night you saw him, when your heart had shuddered with fear and dread and beneath that, some carnal desire that you couldn’t yet name. You make sure to step loudly so Astarion will hear you but deep down, you know he is just as aware of you as you are of him, even if he is a bit distracted by feeding right now. 

His eyes tear up to look at you, all crimson red and blood dripping down his chin. The shiver that runs down your spine is caused by elation rather than terror, like all those years ago. Looking at him, you cannot help but be filled with love and warmth.

Astarion practically drops the other woman to the ground as he moves to chase after you.

You laugh, a twinkling, sparkly thing that belongs like a star in the night sky, and you have to stop yourself from practically skipping with delight back up to the manor. You remind yourself that you’re supposed to be acting scared as you sneak a peek at Astarion over your shoulder. 

He catches your wrist in his grasp just when you’re about to slip inside and he drags you to that familiar closet. It’s cozy and it’s dark and there’s not much room inside unless Astarion’s body is pressed tightly against your own. His arm presses deliciously against your throat to pin you in place.

His eyes are ravenous as they flit across your face. “Tell me, sweet flower, what’s an innocent thing like you doing out in the gardens all by herself at this time of night?”

“My husband left me all alone,” you say demurely, looking up at Astarion from underneath your lashes.

“He must be a stupid man, indeed, if he ever dared to leave a treasure as precious as you unaccompanied.”

“Yes, he’s very stupid,” you say, poking at his ribs. It’s just so hard to resist teasing him when he presents you with so many wonderful opportunities. 

Astarion rolls his eyes, moving his arm from your neck to rest his hand on the wall, next to your head. “Well, that’s not fun, pet. That’s just being mean.”

“I’m playing along! Like you told me. It just gets too self-referential and confusing if I think about it for too long, star. Somehow you’re both my husband and the seductive vampire that lures me into dark corners.” You whine, your hand moving to squeeze his ass and pull him closer to you. “Just tell me pretty things and fuck me, please.”

Astarion’s hand cups your cheek. “I do that all the time, my love. I was trying to make tonight memorable.”

“Every day with you is memorable in its own way, even without the role playing,” you promise him. You nuzzle into Astarion’s hand and his thumb strokes softly along your cheekbone. 

“You’re sweet,” Astarion says and his face melts into a soft smile. 

“I think I just need more rules about what I’m supposed to say. I’m not you- I can’t just whip up seductive lines full of dirty innuendos at the drop of a hat.”

Astarion laughs. “I am rather gifted at that, aren’t I? We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I can take you upstairs and make love to you like I normally do if you’d prefer.”

It’s a tempting offer. Astarion making love to you was likely one of your favorite activities. You liked it almost as much as when Astarion went on a bit of a power trip and whispered lovely, depraved things to you while he fucked you like you were his entire reason for existing, which was exactly what he was offering you tonight.

Besides, when Astarion had brought up this idea, he had been so excited to try it out, so excited to recreate the night you first met in a space where the two of you could act on all the perverse desires you had been holding back. 

And you truly loved seeing Astarion enjoying and having fun with intimacy, watching his comfort zone expand with time and listening to the new desires he whispered that he wanted to try. 

Sometimes, he didn’t end up liking the outcome nearly as much as the idea. There had been that… unfortunate time where Astarion’s hands had only been bound to the bedposts for a few minutes before he was already pulling himself free from the loose restraints, pleading with you that he was sorry. You had simply wrapped your arms around him and held him against your chest, reminding him that he never needed to apologize for setting boundaries. 

No, from then on, restraints were saved solely for you. 

“No, let me try again.” You drop your hand from his ass and smile sweetly up at him. “Can we go back to the beginning, please?”

Astarion presses a quick peck on your lips. “Just follow my lead. I’ll make it easy for you.”

He takes a moment to compose himself before he’s pressing his arm against your throat again, looking down at you with dark, hungry eyes. It sends an immediate spark of arousal straight to your cunt.

“Tell me, sweet flower, what’s an innocent thing like you doing out in the gardens all by herself at this time of night?”

You look at him with your best impression of wide, scared eyes, like you are a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf. You speak, voice barely a whisper, “Chasing after monsters, it seems.”

“A monster?” Astarion laughs, all dark and condescending. “Is that what you think you saw?”

He presses his leg between yours, pinning you to the wall with the full weight of his body and your cunt is aching and it would be easy, so, so easy, to just grind yourself down against his thigh. 

“I don’t know what I saw,” you say and your voice comes out surprisingly breathy and naive. You tilt your head up a bit to look at Astarion, exposing more of your neck and your hand clings desperately to the hem of his coat, pulling him tighter against you. “All I know is that you’re simply too beautiful to be human.”

And in another life, perhaps these are the exact words that you would have said to Astarion in that closet when you first met. Perhaps if you had put up less of a fight or been brave enough to say what you were truly thinking, you would have confessed how you thought he was a beam of moonlight come to life, how you thought that there was no way that the perfect man in front of you could exist because he had to be the embodiment of all your childhood fantasies.

“And yet, I was not the most beautiful person in that garden tonight.” His voice is smooth and silky and feels like a caress on your skin. 

His arm flexes where it sits across your neck and his fingers brush along your collarbone, just the hint of a touch. You roll your hips down upon Astarion’s leg and apparently he’s feeling benevolent tonight because he pushes his thigh into you a little bit harder and it provides just the amount of friction you need. 

“Yes, the woman you were with was very pretty.”

It’s a bit too boring if you just feed Astarion compliments. He deserves to do some work here, too.  

“Don’t go chasing after compliments. It’s unbecoming of you.” Astarion’s arm presses harder into your throat and he narrows his eyes at you. You don’t even need to breathe but the slight impact on your airflow has you feeling dizzy. Or maybe that’s just Astarion’s scent, all bergamot and rosemary and the hint of blood on his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur and you both know that you don’t mean it because your hips don’t even stutter where they grind against Astarion’s leg. 

“You already know that I meant you,” he continues, ignoring your insincere apology. “All those roses, all those flowers, and they looked pale and lifeless compared to you.”

His voice is low and hungry in your ear. He licks along the shell of it before he whispers, “Don’t all the great poets compare cunts to flowers? I fear they’d run out of words if they ever saw yours. I’d have to kill them all, obviously, but at least they would gaze upon perfection before they died.”

Yeah, that line was a little too ‘your husband’ Astarion and less ‘vampire cornering you in a dark room’ Astarion. It sends a victorious trill singing in your veins because you know he’s fighting just as hard as you to keep himself composed. 

Astarion takes a shuddering breath and corrects himself. “It’s truly a shame that I’m going to have to kill you.” 

“No, please. Perhaps I can find some way to convince you that I’m worth keeping alive.” 

You really play it up, too- pouting your lips, looking up at him from underneath your eyelashes, tilting your chin up to expose your neck just so. Astarion loved to spoil you normally, but he was always so especially susceptible to your begging.

Astarion releases his arm from where it had been pressed against your neck, tracing one of his fingers down his favorite artery. You can feel Astarion’s cock where it presses into your stomach, hard and heavy. 

And although his body betrays his desires, Astarion manages to keep his voice flat and unimpressed when he speaks, like this negotiation is beneath him. “I already have more than enough blood, my sweet treat. I’m afraid you’ll have to be more creative about what you can offer me.”

“I’ve been told that I have a very talented mouth. Let me show you. Maybe that will change your mind.”

And thank the gods Astarion released his arm from your neck because now you have more freedom to move. He moans when you catch one of his earlobes between your teeth and his hand comes back up, wrapping gently around your throat and pushing you away from him. 

Gods, you can only imagine how wonderful his hand looks wrapped around your throat, accentuated by the lovely ruby necklace he had given you. Maybe you would have to ask him to do it again later in front of a mirror, so you could actually see it. 

“Hm, you’re a clever one, aren’t you?” Astarion asks. He shifts his hand so his thumb presses heavily against your bottom lip. His eyes feel like they’re burning into you. “Go on, then, show me.”

You part your lips, letting his thumb slide into your mouth. You suck on it greedily, letting your tongue swirl around it teasingly in that same way you know he always likes around the head of his cock in a silent promise of what is to come. You can feel Astarion’s hips grinding subtly against you as he watches your lewd display and it makes your cunt move so wonderfully against his leg.

“Very well, pet, you’ve proven your point.” His breathing is ragged as he slips his thumb out of your mouth. He leaves a wet trail as he slides it along your chin, all the way down your throat. “Now it’s time for you to really convince me.”

Astarion’s hands fall down to your hips and he pulls you with him, moving until his back is against the wall and your body is leaning into him. His mouth grazes yours as he purrs, “Your lips are going to look so pretty wrapped around my cock.”

He continues to trail teasing almost-kisses along the length of your neck before he bites down. You gasp at the shock of cold, but his mouth retracts from your skin almost immediately. You whine in protest- the bite was too quick, you didn’t even get to really enjoy it.

“On your knees, darling,” he commands, voice all deep and heavy with desire. 

You obediently sink down to your knees in front of Astarion and look up at him as one of your hands reaches out to run along the outline of his hard cock straining against his trousers. Your touches are light and fleeting and his hips jolt involuntarily as he tries to press himself harder into your hand.

You’re the one on your knees for him and yet you are the one who will control his pleasure. What a lovely dynamic.

“Promise you won’t kill me?” you ask, acting timid as you fiddle with the fastenings on his pants. 

“I don’t know,” Astarion’s eyes glint dangerously in the darkness. “Perhaps a little death is in order tonight.”

It’s a cheesy double entendre but he sells it with the way he’s looking down on you like he can’t wait to devour you. You feel electric, like all your veins in your body are sending molten fire straight to your cunt. 

You make quick work of the fastenings on Astarion’s pants and he helps you push them down enough to free his cock. He hisses when your hand wraps around his length. 

It’s up to you now, whether you want this to be quick and messy or whether you want to drag this out so long that Astarion is crying and begging to come. Or maybe a mix of both? You’ll see where the mood takes you, you decide, as you lean forward to kiss the base of Astarion’s cock. 

You trace a line of teasing kisses along the whole length and when you reach the head of his cock, you let your tongue slip out to run along the slit. Astarion groans, his fingers threading into your hair as a silent request to finally take him in your mouth. You ignore him, content to trace another line of kisses back down his cock. 

“Right now, I’m leaning toward killing you,” Astarion says and you can’t help but laugh. You apologize by licking a stripe along the underside of his cock before sucking the tip into the soft, wet heat of mouth.

“Gods, your mouth,” Astarion groans. 

You hum in response and Astarion’s hips give a little buck. You take the cue and begin bobbing your head slowly, swirling your tongue around his tip a few times in between each drag of your mouth up and down his cock. You’re trying to take your time, you want Astarion to enjoy this as long as possible, want to make this moment good and special for him.  

You take more and more of his cock into your mouth as you move, hollowing your cheeks and bringing your hand up to assist where you’re unable to fit him in your mouth. Quickly, too quickly for what you have planned tonight, you’re able to get a good rhythm going and Astarion’s cock pulses in your mouth in response as he lets out a long string of curses.

Because you are a bit selfish and you don’t want this to end just yet, you pull your mouth off Astarion with a gentle pop. You keep pumping your hand up and down at a slow pace- enough to feel good, but not enough for him to come. Not yet. 

With Astarion’s fingers still loosely threaded in your hair, you sneak a peek up at him. He’s breathtakingly gorgeous, of course. His head tilts back against the wall, eyes closed in rapture, and his beautiful pink lips are slightly parted as soft gasps and breaths escape his mouth. 

Gods, you want nothing more than to bite him, to taste his little snack from earlier for yourself. 

You grab his wrist with your other hand, bringing it toward your mouth. Pushing up his sleeve, you run your nose along the veins in his wrist. 

“Let me taste you,” you plead. And then because you know Astarion is weak for you, especially when you’re on your knees for him, you add a breathy, “please.”

He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes and his voice is so deliciously condescending when he says, “Only since you asked so nicely. Drink up, pet.”

With his permission given, you sink your teeth into the soft flesh of his wrist. It tastes divine. You let your tongue lick away the blood until his wounds have closed and then you set back to work on his cock with a renewed vigor. 

When you take him back in your mouth, you lift your hand up to pat on Astarion’s thigh three times, the signal between the two of you that it was okay for him to start moving however he wanted.

His fingers curl in your hair a bit more insistently as he starts guiding your motions and you relax your jaw, letting him fuck into your mouth as he chases after his orgasm. You wish you could get to your cunt more easily around the skirts of this heavy ball gown because you’re practically aching with need. 

“That’s- fuck, so good, my love,” Astarion pants out. 

His hips quicken and you know he’s close so you move one of your hands to cup his balls and you feel them tightening beneath your fingers. 

“Fuck, I’m going to-” Astarion gasps. “That okay?”

And it would make you smile, if your mouth wasn’t currently otherwise occupied. It was sweet, how even in the heat of the moment, Astarion still found the time to check in with you. Even now, after years of assuring him that was unnecessary. 

You pat on his leg thigh again, another okay, and it only takes a few more thrusts before his cock is twitching and he’s coming in your mouth. 

When you finish swallowing, Astarion is guiding you to stand again, pressing his mouth to yours in a messy kiss. Gods, are you ever grateful that Astarion is not shy. It certainly helped you over the initial awkwardness you felt at moments like this very quickly. 

Astarion groans into your mouth as he tastes himself. The metallic tang of the woman’s blood still remains faintly on his own lips. You find yourself fighting against Astarion as you both try desperately to chase after the taste in the other’s mouth. 

Between your messy kisses, Astarion ungracefully works to bunch the gorgeous fabric of your dress up to your hips, shifting again to push you against the wall. 

“Hold,” Astarion instructs you, passing your bunched up skirts off to you. You collect them in your arms and hold them up around your waist. His lips slide slowly and deliciously against yours before he murmurs, “I can smell you. I can practically taste in the air how wet you are. And we don’t want you making a mess out of your pretty dress, now do we? I imagine someone worked very hard on that.”

Astarion’s leg presses against you and for a moment, you wonder if that was his hidden plan for the night all along- if he was going to make you rut against his leg in the dark closet, guiding you to ecstasy with just the sound of his voice. You start rolling your hips again and the relief you feel at finally giving your cunt some attention nearly makes you sob.

“Now, now, pet,” Astarion tuts. “I know your cunt is just aching for me, but now is the time for patience. If you can wait just a little longer, I promise to reward you handsomely.”

And oh, how you adored being rewarded by Astarion. It usually involved at least a few orgasms that left your legs shaking and your mind spinning. Astarion accentuates his words by kicking your legs a bit wider apart with one of his own feet. His hand moves down between your body, fingers brushing against your cunt.

“Just like I expected, you’re practically dripping. You like sucking my cock that much, don’t you?”

Your eyes fall closed as you let yourself drown in the soft strokes of Astarion’s fingers along your folds. It feels like you might very well burn alive.

Astarion’s other hand gently weaves through your hair. You’re sure the rubies that Shadowheart spent hours weaving into your hair have long since been scattered across the floor. You can’t bring yourself to even begin to care. 

“Answer me when I speak to you, pet,” he commands in that wonderful low voice. 

It’s accompanied by a sharp tug on the roots of your hair that have you offering up your neck to Astarion. His mouth dips down to suck at your throat and you mewl in delight when he finds a particularly sensitive spot. 

“You know I love your cock,” you tell him. 

You’d add how much you love the rest of him, too, but that doesn’t seem to fit the mood right now. No, you’d save that for later tonight while you rode him, forbidding his hands from roaming your body. With his hands tightly gripping the sheets, you would shower him in praise and be those lovely, pathetic whimpers he made as he fought to keep his hands off you. 

Astarion hums, tilting your chin up to press another deep, slow kiss to your lips. “And you know I adore your mouth.”

His hand keeps moving in maddening, feather-light patterns along your cunt, occasionally moving up to brush against your clit before his fingers are darting away again. It seems Astarion has not finished having his fun with you tonight. 

He speaks against your lips, “You look so pretty on your knees for me. I’d keep you there forever, pet, but I think I’d grow tired of not being able to properly kiss you.”

And if anyone else said that line, you’d be rolling your eyes and grimacing about how corny it was. But this is Astarion and he commits and says it in the low, hungry voice that has your toes curling and heat pooling in your cunt.

His mouth is hovering just centimeters away from yours. You can feel each panting breath on your lips. You move forward to kiss him, but Astarion tugs on your hair again, keeping you just a hair's breadth away from what you want. 

Trying to outsmart Astarion, you use your free arm that is not holding your skirts to pull him down by his cravat and seal his lips against yours. He actually seems rather glad that you managed to work around his grip in your hair as he hums happily into the kiss. 

And either Astarion is extra observant tonight or you’re just being extra obvious about the way you chase after the taste of blood in his mouth.  

“She tasted divine,” Astarion says, his thumb making a slow circle around your clit before it’s gone again. “But I doubt you want to hear about that, do you, pet? No, I think you’d much rather hear about how she paled in comparison to you.”

He dips just the tip of one of his fingers inside you before pulling it out again almost immediately.

“She was nothing. They’re all nothing,” Astarion hisses. Gods, how did that even manage to sound attractive coming from him? “No one else has ever made me feel as good as you.”

For a moment, his pure, unadulterated love breaks through on his face and your chest burns with love- you know how devoted he is to you, you know how much he adores you. 

For a moment, it is just the two of you in a little bubble of love. And then Astarion finally, mercifully pushes a finger into you, working it in and out so agonizingly slow. You whimper and Astarion smiles wickedly down at you. 

“They all bow to us, you know?” Astarion asks, knowing you are in no state to answer. “They bow to me. To you.”

You pull his lips down to yours again and slip your tongue in his mouth. He knows exactly what he’s doing- he knows this line of speaking always works you into a state of frenzy. And you know that arrogant side of him enjoys the sound of his voice just as much as you do. 

It had been so easy, too, to work the nobles onto your side, to start poisoning their minds with your and Astarion’s ideas. A few carefully placed smiles, a few favors promised and repaid, a few veiled threats. The two of you worked together so easily- Astarion charmed and you schemed. 

Astarion chuckles, slipping another finger into you and curling them in a way that makes you unsteady on your feet. He seems perfectly content to keep his other hand threaded in your hair, delivering your mouth to his whenever he wants a kiss. 

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you, pet? You like thinking about them on their knees for you, just like you were for me a few moments ago.” The heel of his palm brushes against your clit. “Do you want to hear more? Do you want to hear about how even the sun herself bows her head in deference to your light and beauty? About how even I bow down to you, surrendering myself to you in worship?”

“Show me, then,” you pant out, pulling on the back of his neck to press his forehead against yours. “Show me how you intend to worship me.”

That has Astarion cursing under his breath and reaching down to give his cock a few pumps before he’s pushing into you, already hard again. 

The fullness and the stretch of him finally inside you soothes the ache that had been plaguing you all night. And when he moves, you can’t help the barrage of moans and gasps that fall from your lips.

“Quiet, little flower. We don’t want everyone to hear, do we?” Astarion asks, bringing his fingers up to your mouth. They’re still wet with your arousal and you follow his silent cue, sucking them into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he purrs and it sends a spark straight to your cunt. You feel yourself tighten around his cock and Astarion groans in response, his hips thrusting into you with even more desperation. 

The thought of who’s the one being loud now? passes through your mind as Astarion groans and tells you how good you feel. And then, because deep down, you’re a little bit vindictive, you let one of your fangs scratch along the skin of Astarion’s fingers in your mouth. You greedily lick up the blood, enjoying the way it mixes with the taste of your wetness on your tongue. 

What was it that Astarion always called the combination of your blood and your cunt? The nectar of the gods? He might be onto something there. 

Astarion’s eyes lock in on you with a single-minded focus before he’s wrenching his fingers from your mouth, capturing your lips with his own. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and bites down, lapping up the blood until your wound closes.

“I love you,” you whisper when he pulls away.

His cock pulses inside you and his hips stutter a bit before he can recover his rhythm. You would never get tired of that- of reminding Astarion of how deeply you loved him and watching how he never failed to viscerally react to those words. 

“Love you, too,” Astarion says, pressing a peck to your cheek. You can feel him smiling against your skin. It’s a total contradiction to the obscene way his cock drives into you.

You grab Astarion’s hand from where it had been gently cupping your face and drag it down between your bodies. 

“Need your hands.”

“I know just what you need,” he assures as his magical fingers begin circling your clit. 

There’s that lovely heat building low in your stomach, rising into a great inferno that surrounds you. And with Astarion’s whispered promises of how he loves you, how good you feel, how you shine brighter than the sun, you come. 

Astarion fucks you through your orgasm before his fingers fall away from your sensitive clit and his hips continue to drive into you as he chases after his own high.

“Come for me,” you tell him, half a command and half a begged request. “Want to feel you inside me.”

Astarion’s forehead rests against yours as he comes.

He keeps you pressed to the wall with the full weight of his body for a few moments longer as the two of you fight to steady your breathing. 

Frankly, it’s a miracle that you managed to hold up your dress the whole time. You had been so worried about damaging the lovely needlework that Astarion had spent so long embroidering that you had kept the fabric clenched to your stomach in an iron-vice the whole time. 

Astarion ensures you are steady on your feet before he shuffles around the closet in search of a rag to wipe between your legs. He finds one and helps you to clean up before throwing it in a bucket with the other dirty rags. You finally release your skirts and flex the muscles in your aching arm as you lean back against the wall, grabbing Astarion’s wrist to pull him back toward you. 

“I love you.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he pulls you into a hug. “I love you, too, now and forever.”

“‘Til death do us part,” you tease, because the idea of death to a vampire seems nothing more than a joke. 

Astarion laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And even after then.”

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

Notes:

Me? Ending a fic on the title? It's almost like I planned that from the beginning... This chapter could alternatively be called 'I let Astarion have a delusions of grandeur as a treat for working on himself.' He's still the Astarion we know and love and of course he's still a little bit evil, but now he's got a wife to help him channel all that energy in healthier ways!

Wow, I can't believe this story is over and this is my final note. I'm getting a bit teary eyed as I write this. Know that I will never be able to fully express my appreciation to everyone who has read/liked/commented on this story. This whole experience has been so much more fun that I ever could have imagined and I have all of you to thank for that!!!

As always, hugest thank you to my beta-writer (and real life friend) AliensNSuch on ao3. She has put up with my insane text rants about obscure details and she has logged many, many hours editing this thing and hyping me up over the parts I hate. I owe her a lifetime of boba for her service!

I've also got some plans for a new fic that I'm gonna start. I'll have a follow up post on my blog talking about my plans if anyone is interested in that. I'm not quite done with Astarion yet!

Thanks again. I love you all!

Taglist: @ayselluna@idkbrodontaskme@maruichio@fanfic-share@the-littlest-bruja@asterordinary@divineknightmare@fandomarchiveilyd

[slytherhys]

June in January (Because I'm in Love)

Prompt: Powers & Possibilities (but make it Witchy!) @elriel-month

A/N: So I've had this AU in my mind for a really long time and I thought it'd be perfect for this prompt. It is kinda different from how I usually write so please bear with me. I hope I managed to make it at the very least a cute read! Enjoy 🌼

TW: Swearing, Blood and Violence (mentioned because Az is an idiot!)

You can also read this story on AO3!

The first time Azriel visits the witch’s cottage on the outskirts of Velaris, it’s against his will.

For starters, he has never been a fan of witches – not of their unrestrained power and certainly not of their blood-drinking habits. He is also a firm believer that, despite Mor’s insistence, Madja would’ve been perfectly able to fix him up with whatever medicine she usually gave Cassian whenever he got punched in the face.

But after a sparring session gone wrong, a vicious hit to the face that takes both him and Cassian by surprise, and a pounding headache only made worse by Cassian’s incessant bragging about knocking out the Shadowsinger for the first time in centuries, Azriel barely bats an eye when Mor presses a piece of parchment to his hand and nearly forces him to visit her dear friend.

“You can thank me later.” She says with an impish smile. “Preferably with chocolates.”

Azriel doesn’t bother asking any questions – namely, who her friend is. Or rather what . With a nasty black eye, a bruised ego and absolutely no desire to take part in any small talk with a stranger, he simply goes, dazed, and confused as to how the fuck he let himself be punched in the face by Cassian, of all people.

But when he first gets there, he has to wonder if Mor is pranking him. 

The cottage is covered in ivy, idyllic enough that one could think it actually belongs to the landscape where it stands. The garden surrounding him is an array of colours and scents, neatly organised by a logic Azriel does not pretend to understand. It looks innocent enough, all things considered.

But something in him goes still as he takes in the landscape in front of him. His eyes narrow as he watches the flowers sway softly in the cool January breeze. They’re beautiful and fragrant and would raise absolutely no suspicion on any other given day – if not for the fact they were in full bloom despite it being the middle of winter.

And then he sees it – a plain, wooden sign, the lettering a loopy cursive that speaks of lovely, gentle things. If it wasn’t for what they spell out, of course.

Elain’s Herbs & Potions

His entire body goes cold, and it speaks of his self-control that Azriel doesn’t shoot to the skies without a glance back. Because he knows –vividly remembers – all the tales of witches he grew up hearing about. Of their all-seeing eyes and their crooked smiles that promised nothing but pain and horror. The tales of their rituals and tricks not even the most cunning soldier could escape. Even Rhys, for all his powers and smarts, has never showed much interest in coming across a witch.

He's wondering why, exactly, Mor ever thought it’d be a good idea to send him here when he sees her.

The first thing he notices, oddly enough, is how small she is. After living next to Amren for most of his life, Azriel is not foolish enough to ever think that a sign of weakness, but it intrigues him all the same. Then, he’s utterly aware of how she doesn’t look anything like what he thought she’d look like. There’s no yellowed teeth, no wispy, greying hair, no soulless eyes.

Instead, all he sees is long, golden-brown hair and chocolate eyes. A yellow dress that compliments her tanned skin and red cheeks and speaks of warmer, sunnier days. She’s carrying a wicker basket overflowing with flowers, but the scent that trails after her is all her – sweet and sour, and Az feels his legs nearly giving out from under him, it’s probably completely unrelatable.

Elain , he assumes, and never a name has ever sounded so sweet.

When she looks up and spots him, she smiles, as if she was waiting for him and is pleased to see he's finally here. His heart tumbles inside his chest and he tells himself it’s because he’s in the presence of a witch – not because he’s suddenly wanting things he’s never wanted before.

She eyes him curiously and he has

to stop himself from asking her what’s on her mind, even if it suddenly feels

like the most important thing he’s ever needed to know.

“Can I help you?” She asks sweetly. Her voice echoes through him, and something inside him settles. He, however, can’t bring himself to speak, swallowing dryly as he stares and stares and stares . The woman - Elain ,

he thinks with delight - tilts her head, furrowing her brow as her chocolate

eyes trace his face. “That doesn’t look good.” She mutters and Azriel has to

remind himself of the reason he’s here in the first place.

“A fight.” He says oh-so-eloquently , and he’s surprised she doesn’t seem alarmed in

the slightest by his response. As if, perhaps, this is a normal occurrence for

her. He doesn’t know why that bothers him, but it does. 

Elain, oblivious to his nonsensical thoughts, simply nods and turns on her feet, disappearing inside her cottage without another word. Azriel remains where he is, unsure of what to do. All of a sudden, he can’t recall why he ever feared witches in the first place, why he ever believed the tales his brothers told him in the middle of the night when they were too young to know any better. 

And fuck if they knew any better. 

It takes the pretty witch less than five minutes to return, this time carrying a small basket in her hands, each one of her steps a small symphony of bottles clicking against each other until she’s standing in front of him. He looks down at the basket with intrigue and pretends that her closeness isn’t making his skin tingle. He listens carefully as she explains – a bit shyly, Azriel notices with satisfaction – how he must apply the green ointment to his bruises, at what time he must drink the periwinkle potion and how many times a day the white paste must be applied to reduce the swelling of his cheek.

When he nods in thanks and turns to leave, it’s entirely too soon and a pang echoes through his body as he desperately tries to come up with ways of prolonging his stay but comes up empty instead. His skin feels too tight, his cheeks too hot, his hands too clammy. He vaguely wonders if he’s running a fever - if maybe he can ask her for a cure for that as well. 

She walks by his side until they’re standing on the limits of her property, like maybe she doesn't want him to leave just yet either. He feels oddly mislaid; uncertain of what to do and who to be. All his convictions turn into ash and suddenly there’s only one thing he knows for sure: he’s going to have to get punched again, because there’s not a chance in this world he isn’t seeing Elain again.

“Who won?” Azriel turns to her as she asks, confusion clear on his face. Elain, not one to be put off by his silence, clarifies, “The fight.”

Azriel chuckles softly. “Not me.”

She frowns like she's not entirely happy with his response. “Well, make sure you win next time. Okay?” 

But the second time Azriel visits the witch’s cottage, just on the outskirts of Velaris, Elain greets him with a brilliant smile, not disappointed in the slightest to see him sporting a new bruise and a busted lip.

It shouldn’t surprise him how beautiful she looks, but he still is taken aback when he first sees her. Her hair is tumbling down her back in a messy braid, a too-big straw hat on her head and a small streak of dirt on her cheek that she probably isn’t aware of. Her cheeks are flushed from the sun, her blue dress reminds him of ripe blueberries, and the way it sways with her every step reminds him of flying in the summer breeze.

This time around, there’s no doubt in his mind he’s right where he should be. A familiar feeling of contentment rushes through his body, as if after weeks of waiting to see her, he can finally let himself relax and enjoy this small moment of reprieve (and really, who can blame him for wanting to get punched again?).

When Elain asks him what happened this time around, Azriel doesn’t dare tell her he made sure to pick Rhys during this week’s sparring session; that he made sure the most powerful High Lord in history punched him just in the right place so that he could bust his lip open. He doesn’t tell her about the confused look on his friend’s face as Azriel smiled maniacally when he felt the blood on his lips, nor does he tell her he tried to go for a broken nose instead so that maybe she would touch him too.

He simply smiles sheepishly at the pretty witch and utters something about distractions, making her blush under his stare as she turns around and scolds him for being so careless, all the while making a package of too many potions he doesn’t entirely need. (He still hasn’t used up all the old ones, but he doesn't tell her that either).

When Elain finally turns to him, her eyes drop to his lips and Azriel feels fire licking up at his spine. She watches him with curiosity and something else lingering in those cinnamon eyes. Amusement, perhaps?

For a brief, panicky moment, he wonders if she can see right through him. As it is, Azriel doesn’t exactly know where her power lies, and for all he knows every lie, every excuse is pointless in the presence of this witch.

Elain, however, doesn’t seem too concerned by his lies. “What is your favourite fruit?” She asks instead, eyes flickering to his as if nervous to see his reaction. 

Azriel tucks away his puzzlement and says, “Blueberries,” pretending the whole time it’s not only because of the colour of her dress. She nods once, as if the answer satisfies her, and hands him the basket.

“Be careful, okay?” She tells him in that honeyed voice and Azriel can think of nothing else to say, so he nods and leaves without a glance back.

He pretends he doesn’t miss her the entire flight back home.

The third time Azriel visits Elain’s cottage, he is greeted by a brilliant smile that sends his heart racing inside his chest. Elain, still bent over a shrub, tells him about the new batch of healing potions she’s been perfecting so he can try them, and he tries not to show just how pleased he is that she has been thinking about him, waiting for him to return. She doesn’t ask him about his bandaged shoulder and Azriel doesn’t tell her about the lecture he got from Rhys once the High Lord of the Night Court realised what was going on.

“These ones taste like blueberries.” She says, handing him three new potions he’s never seen before. He frowns slightly. “They’re your favourite.” She explains, and the expectant smile on her face makes it impossible for him to come clean. He isn’t even sure he likes blueberries, but he thanks her anyway and smiles the whole way home.

The fourth time Azriel visits Elain’s cottage, he has just returned from a mission abroad. When she hears the rustle of his wings, she turns to him with that brilliant smile of hers. To her credit, she doesn’t stop smiling when he sees the heavy expression on his face. She simply stands up, holds his hand, and leads him to a wooden bench under a willow tree behind her house.

They sit there for hours, without a word ever being spoken. He doesn’t know how Elain knows he doesn’t wish to speak, but he’s thankful all the same.

When he returns home, he doesn’t take any potions with him, but nevertheless something inside him feels mended; lighter than it has ever felt before. For a quiet, lovely moment he wonders if maybe he’s worthy of having his hands held despite the scars marring his skin and the idea of such a life follows him all the way home.

The fifth time Azriel returns to Elain’s cottage, nothing seems to be amiss - both Cassian and Rhysand refuse to fight him (since Rhysand promptly forbade them), and Azriel can’t seem to find any more excuses to see her again. Until he realises he doesn’t need them anymore.

As he flies to her house, a million scenarios rush through his mind as he wonders how she’ll react. If she’ll welcome him with her beaming smile, watching him as if she’d been waiting for him all along or if instead, she’ll find it so weird to find him uninjured she’ll send him on his way the second she understands why, exactly, he’s there. Azriel isn’t foolish enough to believe he’d be so lucky, but he wants to brave enough to find out.

He finds sitting in the middle of the daisies, looking for all the world like she has been painted into the landscape to make it all the more appealing. When she sees him, a smile lights up her face, eyes taking him in as he walks her way and Azriel isn’t entirely sure why, but every single doubt tainting his mind melts away into a puddle at the expression on her face.

Elain doesn’t say a word. She simply waits, rising to her feet and watching him with an expectant look in her eyes.   

“I don’t need anything today.” He says by way of greeting, and she gives him a tentative smile. 

“But you’re here.” She says gingerly, not a trace of confusion on her face.

Which makes him confused in return. “I am.” He says, and Elain chuckles, the sound low and so sweet, so perfect his heart nearly leaps from his chest to try and catch the sound. He can’t stop watching her as certainty settles deep into his bones.

Elain blows a breath like she’s finally had enough of his silence. Her cheeks pinken under his stare but she isn’t deterred. “Are you finally going to ask me out, Azriel?” She asks a bit exasperatedly. “Or is the Shadowsinger going to keep getting his ass handed to him until he finds the courage?”

He’s speechless for one second. Two. Three. He vaguely thinks of Mor and how she described Elain as her dear friend . And then he’s wondering if he’s truly that transparent and if she’s known what he had been doing all along – gathering the courage to kiss her, have her in any way he can get.

And then he’s not wondering anymore - he’s pulling her into his arms instead, kissing her until they both can’t breathe, until the sun falls behind the trees, until the cool breeze of January makes Elain shiver in his arms, reminding them of where they are. That, despite the blooming garden and the warmth of their kiss, it’s still January and there’s an entire world out there waiting for them to start the rest of their lives.

But none of it seems to matter as Elain pulls away from him, never letting go of his hand as she asks, “Do you want to come inside?”

And later that night, when the colours of dawn chase away the darkness of the night, with Elain sleeping soundly against his chest, Azriel smiles, shaking his head in disbelief.

Because he now owes Mor a very big fucking box of chocolates.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

HAPPY NEW YEARS QUEEENNNN hope u r doing amazing <3333

k so i saw ur requests were open and i HAD to send something, so as i said before i absolutely ADORE when u make big ass men super soft for their girl so i’d like to request a very fluffy fluff with tan where they go on a date on his day off??? maybe do something that his gf likes like taking her to a museum or reading together at a cafe lit anything u do with it i’ll be more than happy 🥹🥹🥹 ily mwuaks

- 🍪

hii bby!! this is really really fucking cute!! ily and hope you’re well. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

VILLAGE DATE.

tangerine x fem!reader

word count. 460

Whenever Tangerine had the day off, he was always sure to spend as much time with you as possible, whether it was a movie at home or a spontaneous trip to Venice - he was keen to make the most of the free time.

Tangerine felt like he had been putting you second to work lately, so when he found out his schedule for the week, he immediately designated one of the days for you - a day to yourselves, just him and you.

This morning, when you were lying in bed, adjusting to the day, Tangerine surprised you with a hot drink with a singular red rose, a small note attached reading, 'Wear something casual and comfy. I'm taking you out for the day x.' That was all the information he gave you, kissing you on the forehead as he let you get ready. 

So now, sitting in the passenger seat of his car, you turn to face him - the anticipation making your tummy fuzzy. "Please, can you give me a hint?" you ask, tapping his hand - the one comfortably placed over your thigh. "Just a little one?"

"Wouldn't be a surprise, now would it, love?" he teases, giving you a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the road. "Oh, come on. We're nearly there."

Except it looks like you're going into the middle of nowhere. Leisurely driving down tight, narrow country roads, passing by small cottages and shops. 

He makes a sharp turn and pulls into a tiny car park - his lavish car juxtaposing the old, worn-down ones around him. He turns to face you, meeting your confused gaze.

Tangerine gets out first and walks around to open your door, his hand latching onto yours as he helps you out. 

"What are we doing here?" you ask, looking around the foreign village scenery. 

"Surprise, darlin'. Like I said," he grins, slipping your hand through the gap of his arm, leading you towards the surprise.

First, he takes you to a small, cosy cafe - the interior warm and inviting. You sit together on a sofa near the window, cuddled into each other's sides, mugs in hand as you warm up with the help of the hot beverage. He uses this time to tell you about the few things he has planned for today - a pub lunch by the riverside, a booked visit to a local museum and a little shopping trip on the high street. 

Tangerine goes on to tell you how he's been meaning to come here for a while, how he often drives through it for work but would never stay to look around, thinking you'd appreciate the charm of the small, quaint village much more. 

And he was right. 

no taglist as don't want to spam

[mysticgeekzartz]

Meet, Honey Sugar

So the votes were in and you guys all voted that you wanted to know more about Honey, so here is my blog post about her (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) also yes I am posting this before I post those requests I did for The let me draw You're welcome home OC box thing I only have one more character to draw and then I'll be finished and I will post it Because this will be my proudest work of drawing six characters with lots of detail into these boxes :) It was a lot of fun practice but until then I hope you enjoy this post in the meantime

HOW SHE BECAME TO BE!:

I recently made Honey last year A lot of my OCs I made last year but they have stuck with me since then which is the first for me in Oh season general usually a lot of times I make one off characters. But there's something special about these characters I just Don't know how to explain it but I think this is the first time I've actually felt a deep connection with something that I created like an OC because usually my OC's had never really had a deep connection with me they were always just one offs or a few weeks I was connected with them but My current OCs very connected Well enough yapping about this let me tell you about Honey.

So at the beginning of the year originally Honey was a one off character that I made for roleplay me and my friend were role playing some Welcome Home stuff and we needed a relationship for Howdy we did not know who to ship him with so we decided to quickly create a character that would be perfect for the prompt that we were doing So I decided to make a quick baker character that would have her bakery right next to Howdy and they would have like a very competitive type of relationship because they're both selling goods she's selling breads, sweets ect And of course him selling general goods. They decided to have a competition on who can make the most sales which would be Howdy's processed bread from a factory versus honey baked goods like freshly baked stuff but of course Honey wins Because everybody's going to want fresh versus overly processed bread So of course since she won she could name whatever she wanted for a prize so she said take me out to dinner and when I kept playing her for this relationship Howdy which their whole relationship was based on teasing and her pointing out the obvious in his flaws and a snarky / funny way but they balanced each other out She was sweet but also spicy, I kept developing her character more and more she wasn't just this baker chick anymore She was becoming a character and then that's when I realized Oh my God I love this OC so much So I just had to make her as her own character.

Here was the first rendition of honey when I first drew her and when my art wasn't the best I'm glad I improved lol So I had the basic idea that she was going to be Eddie's cousin as well as a love interest for Howdy in me and Friends RP So originally I wanted her to look very cute almost cottage core-esque you can say and the reason why she was wearing bee earrings and a necklace was because of her name being Honey originally she was about to be a bee as well but I decided not to make her a bee Because it was difficult for me to draw and because I thought it was more of a fun dynamic with Howdy to have her being a humanoid puppet versus a bug type puppet but yeah a lot has changed from her design like for example I did change up the color palette because I thought the colors look dreadful together in this I mean in their own way they do look okay but I much prefer her current color palette then this old color palette I had for her and the hair I like her curly bob a lot more than the Bob with a braid that I originally gave her Plus her eyes don't look soulless anymore like it does here lol

I know you've seen these previous two pictures before but I'm going to a really like deep dive into how I designed the character as well as explaining the character lol So this was her second rendition and her most current rendition actually as you could see in the newer piece on top I did a new color palette a whole new style for her but I did kept some elements of the old one like her coloring for her felt and her nose shape and somewhat of her eye shape I closed her eyes I decided to fix her hair make it more of a curlier bob I gave her flowers to add more to that cottage court s look and by the way the dress is actually in apron dress If you took off the actual apron part of the dress it would actually just be a white '70s peasant style blouse with a pink peasant style skirt with a petticoat underneath this is my most favorite rendition of her and I'm probably going to keep it like this unless I decide to experiment with her outfits for different seasons which I'm planning to do with all my characters.

Here's a close-up of slightly older rendition of how I used to draw her face before now I made it no tip on the bottom and I made the nose all a little bit more dynamic but still the same ol sweet Honey So now I'm going to talk about some interesting facts about honey

FACTS ABOUT HONEY:

Honey Sugar It's not a nickname It is actually her real name that her parents gave her that everybody assumes it's just a nickname or just her trying to be unique but no it's actually her real name

She has a southern accent

She's 23

Honey grew up in a bakery Her mother is Southern and her father is French So she had a very strict pastry like upbringing so she is very particular about how things are done especially when you have a French pastry stuff as a father

Honey is type 1 diabetic She usually has really low blood sugar and I like to think as she bakes when she feels her blood sugar get low she likes to eat what she's made to help it out

Honey is usually a sweet woman she tries to be like the southern belle like woman like her mama but press her buttons the wrong way or do something that she views as disrespectful or uncouth You will see this normally sweet southern woman bring out the spice and she's not afraid to fight either She can be mean if you get on her bad side but normally she doesn't like to be like that

Honey is actually a very smart business woman She knows about what her customers want supply and demand-wise And she really knows how to pronounce herself and her pastries and sweets and all sorts of baked goods Her strategy is to always leave the door slightly open or leave somewhere that has a crack in it so the neighbors can smell fresh baked goods and that will make them want to come in

Honey is a workaholic She loves to bake so much that she'll end up baking up a storm usually tending to forget to eat and take breaks and just completely lose track of time sometimes neighbors will have to come in there to remind her to take breaks and eat and make sure she hasn't baked so much to the point where it's unsellable

One time Honey baked so much that the neighborhood had to have a baked goods eating contest because there were just so many pastries and if you're wondering what type of pastry it was jelly donuts they were popular and she went through one of her moments where she just non-stop baking in the zone and yeah she ended up filling up the whole shop and a little bit outside her shop of jelly donuts

I would say if Honey would have any close relationships with any neighbors it would probably be Howdy Poppy and Eddie, Howdy Because they're both business oriented and sometimes they might get competitive, Poppy I like to think that they would bake together and just talk and have tea and you know have some lady chats hehe, And Eddie I feel like they would talk in countryisms a lot and just have some similar experiences to things again like loving their jobs I feel like they would be really good friends

Before moving to Home, Honey used to own a bakery that was very successful where she would get catering jobs for weddings birthday parties gatherings etc and it was really good business The only reason why she moved away from the city and to Home was because she wanted to have a new market where it wasn't so stressful like it was in the city Just countless orders but in home it's relaxing it's peaceful she can just bake bread and pastries to people that seemed like they would appreciate it more

Some flaws that Honey has is that she'll make way too much sometimes enough to feed an army, she's very time blind She tries to be on time but when you're in the zone baking a lot of stuff you lose track of time So that's why she makes sure she has timers for important stuff, She is a bit of baked good snob she's very picky and particular about how things are baked and how things are served when you make baked goods whether that being a pastry or savory sort of baked good The reason for that is her upbringing of having a French patissier as a father and being trained hard and her family bakery to make the best pastries they could make so that's why she's a bit of a pastry snob and will nitpick the littlest things if not done correctly, though she is trying to get better at not doing that though as not everyone is a professional baker like her, And she has a habit of spraying way too much perfume on herself She likes to smell good but sometimes it's a little bit of overkill And it's just too much It's overpowering, She can be a klutz at times especially when she's serving when people order like a pastry and a coffee or a hot chocolate she goes out and serves and she's the only one working she might end tripping on herself and spilling whatever she had to serve onto the customer That's a little joke as well

Since Honey is half French She can speak French very fluently and use the French terms for certain pastries and savory baked goods and will use the French terms for the methods that are used with a perfect accent and everything and people are usually impressed when she speaks French

I still do ship her with Howdy because of the connection of how I created her as a character so it has a special place in my heart (but it's not a main focus)

Her bakery is called Honey's Sugar Stop

If she had one of the it's for you phone phrases it would be: "Hello, Sugarcube, this is Honey's Sugar Stop this is Honey speaking would you like to place an order?......Hello?.... Are you there sugar?........*taps foot*...... Look sweetie I can't Just stay on the phone line the whole time I got some rolls in the oven that I better take out of the oven before they burn, So if you have an order you like to place for the best baked goods in Home Please call me up If not please don't waste precious bake'n time....."**CLICK**

Well that's all what I could think of her at the moment I might add some more stuff to characters I might change some stuff I don't know but so far this is what I got for honey You know as time pass she can develop more but I feel like she was a fun character to develop And I had a lot of fun creating her I hope you guys really get a kick out of her I know this was a very long post of me really going in deep diving into how I made her as a character as my OC but I feel like this was really fun to make and I hope you guys have a fun time reading it- Mystic🧁

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother. Part 30/?

<Part 29<

"I need you to wake-up, My love." Steve whispered, looking down at where you rested your head against his chest, smiling lovingly at you.

The journey to Brook was long, tiring and uncomfortable. Even with a stop off for lunch and to stretch your legs, you still found yourself being lulled to sleep after a few hours as you cuddled up against Steve's warmth. Well, that and because Steve couldn't keep his hands to himself. Not that you were complaining.

You mumbled something incoherent as you snuggled closer to Steve making him chuckle and kissed the top of your head.

"I guess, you don't want my surprise then." He whispered.

You raised your head with a hum, "What surprise?" You asked groggily.

Steve smiled to himself, "Knew that would work." He sat up, untangling himself from you. "C'mon sleepy head. You can go back to sleep soon."

Your brow furrowed as you watched him open the carriage door and get out. "Are we back already?" You asked.

Steve shook his head. "Not quite." He held his hand out and helped you out of the carriage. "This is your surprise." He smiled.

You stood in silence as you looked at the cute (not so) little cottage in front of you that was tucked away behind a wall of trees and rose bushes. It was lit up with an orange glow and smoke pouring out of the chimney, looking warm and cosy.

Steve smiled to himself as he gave you a gentle nudge, encouraging you forward. "I thought this would be a good place for the two of us to hide away for a week or so. Enjoy married life without any worries. Just us." He whispered.

You stepped into the cottage with a grin, "Where are we?"

"Not far from the castle. My hunting cabin isn't far from here."

"It's beautiful... Who does it belong to?" You looked around the place, taking it all in.

Steve smiled as he stepped closer to you, placing his hands on your hips. "You."

You spun around to face Steve with a gasp, "Me?"

Steve nodded. "My father wanted mother to have a quiet place to retreat to if the castle got too much whilst she was carrying me, so he had this place built. Once I was born, it became a place the three of us would use to hide away from the castle..."

Your brow furrowed, "It's not mine then if your father had it built for your mother."

Steve sighed softly, "Sweetheart, it was my mother who gifted it to you... To us. She knows how difficult it can be for a young Princess... She wanted you to have a place that you feel safe in, like she did." He smiled lovingly st ypu as he took yoyr hands in his. "Wha'cha say, happy to spend some time alone with me here, wife?"

You bit you bottom lip and nodded with a giggle, "I certainly am, husband." You wrapped your arms around Steve's neck and kissed him.

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

The sound of birds tweeting and the sun leaking through the drapes slowly aroused you from your sleep just enough for you to sense something was happening around you that could only be described as chaos. You could hear voices, shouting and cursing over the top of one another, heavy footsteps stomping back and forth. You let out a tired groan and rolled over in the large empty bed, frowning as you blindly searched for Steve. You opened your eyes and looked around the room, empty. You sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes before climbing out of bed and making your way out of the room, in search of your husband.

The cottage wasn't too big that you'd end up lost like you did on your very first visit to the castle, but there were still plenty of rooms to explore.

You fell in love with the cottage the moment your eyes landed on it. It was much bigger than you first thought, but it still managed to have a cosy feel to it.

The room you and Steve were occupying was larger than the others that filled the cottage. It had a four poster bed at the farthest side of the room, a dressing table and chair against the wall opposite the door, a fireplace opposite the bed, as well as having a small closet attached. There was a smaller room opposite that had been used as Steve's when he was much younger and had been turned back into a nursery for when the time arrived for yours and Steve's children to use. A small water closet sat at the end of the hallway on the left that held a large bathtub (big enough for two) and next door to your room was what had been a study that Steve's father used before Steve had it changed into a miniature library for the two of you to use. That, too, had a fireplace that the two of you could sit in front of. At the other end of the hallway was a door that led into the front of the cottage. The door opened up into the sitting room, a large space that had a couple of armchairs in front of another fireplace as well as a dining table by the window that looked out onto the small garden that was filled with rose bushes and trees. To the right of the sitting room was a joining kitchen, and that was where you found your husband and the chaos.

You watched as Steve, Sam and Bucky coughed, trying to wave smoke away from them as they each yelled over one another.

"What on earth is going on?" You asked with a cough, quickly covering your mouth.

The three of them turned towards you like startled deer, panic in their eyes.

When no one answered, you huffed and folded your arms across your chest. "Well?"

"His fault!" Sam and Bucky said in unison as they pointed at Steve.

Steve glared at them, "Is not."

You rolled your eyes as the three of them began to talk over each other once more. "Enough!" You huffed and made your way over to the large wooden door at the front of the cottage that lead out into the garden, "You're like children... Worse than Morgana." You mumbled.

"What are you doing, My love?" Steve asked as he watched you open the door.

"Letting the smoke out so we don't choke to death." You turned back to the three of them. "Perhaps one of you could open the windows?"

Sam and Bucky quickly and began moving around the cottage. Steve stayed in the same spot with his head lowered, chewing on his bottom lip looking a lot like a child that's about to be scolded.

You smiled to yourself as you walked towards him, reminding yourself to tease him later on about it. "What happened?"

Steve opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Bucky and Sam bet him to it.

"His Majesty, was attempting to cook."

"And like it usually does, it ended in disaster." Bucky shook his head with a huff, "I told him to stay out of the kitchen."

Sam nodded, "But His Majesty knows best." Sam rolled his eyes.

You let out a small giggle as Steve continued to glare at them.

It was true, Steve wasn't the best cook. Any time he attempted cooking, something disastrous happened.

"Boys," You stood in front of Steve and placed a comforting hand on his chest as you faced Bucky and Sam. "Could the two of you fetch some more firewood, please?" You smiled sweetly.

The pair nodded before bowing to you and making their exit.

You cleared your throat before you turned back to face Steve. "So... What happened?"

Steve sighed as he gently placed his hands on your waist and tugged you against his chest. "I wanted to bring you breakfast." He frowned. "I don't know what happened. One minute I had everything set, and the next the pan of water boiled over and-"

"Put the fire out?" You asked already knowing the answer. Steve nodded with a pout. You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself cooing at him. How can a man be so soft and adorable, yet feared by so many? You gently cupped his cheeks with your hands and pressed your lips against his softly, letting out a moan as Steve gave your waist a squeeze. "Don't worry about it. It's an easy fix." You smiled at him before slipping out of his arms. "Let's get this cleaned up then we'll cook breakfast together."

Steve raised his eyebrow at you as you began moving things around. "Do you know how to cook?" Steve asked.

You giggled as you looked back at him over your shoulder. "Yes, Steve."

"You do?"

"Don't sound so surprised." You smirked.

"Sorry." Steve blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I just, don't understand how you know?"

"Well, I learnt, Steven." You teased making him roll his eyes.

"I get that smart-ass." He chuckled, coming up beside you. "When?"

"What did you think I did when I wasn't attending sowing circles?"

Steve smiled, "Who taught you?"

"The Castle's cooks." You smiled with a shrug. "Even Dum-Dum taught me how to cook his famous battle stew last year."

Steve's brows raised in surprise just as Sam and Bucky returned. "Dum-Dum gave you his secret recipe?"

"Her Highness cooks it even better than Dum-Dum." Bucky winked at you with a grin making you blush.

Sam nodded and rubbed his belly. "Oh man, what I'd give to have some of that stew."

Steve frowned as he looked at them then at you. "Why have I never tried it?" He pouted.

You turned away from him to hide your smirk before clearing your throat, "You're always busy with meetings when I cook it." You let out a soft sigh.

Steve frowned to himself as he thought back to your visits. He usually did have a few meetings that lasted hours and hours, plenty of time for you to cook Dum-Dum's stew and share it with his men. He can't remember how many times he's found you training with them, even in rain, as you tried to pass the time.

"No matter," You smiled at him. "I'll make it tonight for us all."

Steve chuckled, "Let's focus on breakfast first, love." He kissed your cheek. "Now, tell me what to do."

"Nothing!" Bucky and Sam groaned in unison making Steve glare at them.

You began to laugh, quickly disguising it as a cough and looking away as Steve turned his glare to you. He smiled to himself as he watched you busy yourself before he sent Sam and Bucky another glare.

"Piss off," He mouthed to them, waving his hand around.

Bucky smirked, shaking his head at him as he walked up to you, "What can I do to help, Your Highness?" He asked, sending Steve a wink once you began telling him what to do.

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

You giggled as Steve kissed your bare shoulder, working his way up your neck until you were a giggling mess. "Stop it," You tapped his bicep, pushing slightly to get him off you.

Steve pulled back with a grin. "You're just too sweet," He teased before pressing his lips to yours. He rolled over on to his back, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest. Steve panted softly against the top of your head before kissing it. "You know... They won't be here all the time... I promise."

You smiled to yourself, snuggling further into his chest, wrapping your arms tighter around his body as you hiked your leg up over his. "Stop... I had fun today. Besides, I don't mind Bucky and Sam being around."

Steve sighed, "I know you don't... But I wanted it just to be us. I wanted us to have some time together... To get to know each other."

You carefully pushed yourself up so you were looking down at Steve, not care in the world as you let your naked body show as you looked down at your husband lovingly. "We already know each other, darling."

Steve shook his head, "But we're married now..." He smiled as he reached up brushed your hair back as he cupped your cheek. "Things are different."

"How? We're still the same people, Steve."

Steve smiled, "But now I can do this," He gently pulled your face down to his and pressed his lips against yours, easily slipping his tongue past your lips and deepening kiss momentarily before pulling back, "As much as I want." He grinned at you. "As well as other things," He teased.

You lowered your head, trying to hide your face as you blushed. "When you put it like that." You smiled to yourself. "Maybe Bucky and Sam shouldn't be around so much."

@letsdisneythings @smile1318 @readawaythereality @dad-supremedeactivated04291992 @marebare21 @imjustanotherperson @slutforchrisjamalevans @summersong69 @gretavankleep37 @calimoi @noonenuts @nighttimestan @sarahbellesaurus @bloodyinspiredfuck @coffeebooksandfandom @lewisroscoelove @oceansrose2002 @teambarnes72

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

Hi 👋🏻 you generously offered to give me some fic recs once you're back home if I gave you some more details as to what I'm looking for. Basically, anything tedependent that's close to, around or after canon. Open to personal favourites that deviate from this, though. Thanks in advance. Seeing the tags made me so happy! ❤️

oughh sorry this took forever, long story short getting back home ended up being a 24 hour comically terrible disaster and then i was just. tired :( but HERE I AM NOW!!!!!!!!!YAY

okay! OKAY.

tedependent

near/around canon

i'm going to assume leaning away from nsfw since it wasn't specified

no preference towards complete/incomplete, but i tended for the former

let's start with a ⚡LIGHTNING ROUND⚡!

these are fics I think at least somewhat fit your description (not sure I'm a great judge of 'close to canon') that i don't have any extra commentary to add about (that's not a bad thing!) they're all good!

A Mighty Nice Shine by turingpatterns - oneshot (complete) (trent's daughter! cute fic!!)

For As Long As We Can by ShutUpGwen - longer fic (complete) (post-canon getting together, kinda)

All Publicity, as they say by JessJessTheBest - medium sized fic(?) (complete) (very cute and funny social media centered fic)

if music be the food of love, play on by literary_lesbian - medium sized fic (complete) (great author, mae pov deserves more love)

Take My Whole Life Too by ItsClydeBitches - oneshot (complete) (adorable valentines day fic)

it's nice to have you here by foxwatson - longer fic (incomplete) (excellent 'there's only one cottage' fic, not s3 compliant as it was written before s3)

Holding Pattern by Wildgoosery - oneshot (complete) (honestly worth it for the ending alone--not that the whole thing isnt' good)

Nothing’s as Easy as Riding a Bike When You Don’t Know How by r_n_g_are_dead - long fic (complete) (trent falls in looove)

closer to your request (i think)

richmond is for lovers by confessionofaking- series (complete)

[summary for the first fic in the two-fic series] “So you do laugh!” He heard himself shout. Trent blinked, and then he was standing. “But you don’t do it until page—,” he crossed the room and peered over Ted’s shoulder “forty-three? And it wasn’t even a big laugh! That was more of a loud nose breath,” he paused, trying to recall the proper word. “An exhale.” Ted put a halt to his nervous rambling in a matter of seconds. “Hey, Trent, look. I know folks are divided on the actual police these days, but all human beings are opposed to the laugh-police.” or, the 'laugh police' scene fix-it fic, except i made it worse.

notes: an eventual post-canon fix-it, as well as a fix-it for the "laugh police" scene. excellent fic, excellent author (HI CADE!!!! HI!!!!! ILY!!!!) i would also reccomend from him... well, any of his fics, but for a quick round-up of a few more sfw tedependent fics of his:

twist of fate

red light

i’ll catch you, darling

just can’t get enough (more nsfw in themes but very cute)

The Lasso Effect by earlybloomingparentheses - oneshot (complete; part two of a series)

Dating Ted Lasso is a wonderful thing. There are, however, certain downsides. For example, Trent no longer has control over when and where he smiles. He apparently cares about Roy Kent's opinion of him now. And he's been having the most ridiculous urge to tap dance. It's the Lasso Effect.

notes: there's several bits in this for trent's characterization that live in my brain rent free.

number four was always you by thefaceofno - long fic (complete)

Ted’s phone rings. He looks away from the window, where he was watching the tree sway in the wind, to see Beard’s face splashed over his phone screen. He thinks about not answering, but if he doesn’t answer then all he’ll have done today is run to CostCo for no reason. He doesn’t need eight pounds of almonds, but he has eight pounds of almonds. a.k.a. the post s3 fix-it where Ted does some intense mental healing.

notes: THE post-canon tedependent fix-it. excellent. please read it immediately.

constant as a northern star (constantly in the dark) by laiqualaurelote - medium sized fic (complete) (technically part of a series but this is standalone)

“I just met Ted Lasso,” Sachiko Crimm says bluntly when her ex-husband picks up. Trent is silent for a while. “And?” he says finally. Sachiko gives it five seconds, and then she bursts out laughing. “Stop it,” says Trent wearily.

notes: one of my favorite incarnations of trent's ex-wife ever. also always a sucker for pov outsider. also, excellent author, and you should absolutely read their post-apocalypse theater/shakespeare au. please.

nothing worth doing comes easy by pocky_slash - medium sized fic (incomplete)

First Ted Lasso is a joke, then Ted Lasso is a story, and then, suddenly--mortifyingly--Ted Lasso is something more. (Or: Trent doesn't want to be Ted's friend.)

notes: excellent, loving it, basically, to quote the author's note, "trent's deeply awkward gay spiral in the [s2] finale". however, word of warning: it is, tragically, unfinished.

Architecture With a Human Element by ItsClydeBitches - oneshot (complete)

“There has to be something,” Trent muttered, furiously scrolling through his feed. Each suggestion he found was debunked by the next post, with many parents swearing up and down that certain techniques made the whole thing worse. Trent stopped on a video of a mother taking scissors to her daughter’s curls and bit down on an actual sob building in the back of his throat. It was right before Trent let it fly that his mobile rang. Coach Ted Lasso (from America). Trent couldn’t say what possessed him to answer with his throat thick and his eyes prickling, but his traitorous hand had already swiped while his mouth said, “I have to shave my head.” Or: 5 times Ted got to touch Trent's hair and one time he returned the favor.

notes: losing my mind at the tenderness in this one. ough (positive)

time may change me by rockinhamburger - oneshot (complete) (part of a series)

Trent’s writing a book, so he’s in the room, generally, whilst [AFC Richmond’s magical season] fucking happens. These are the kinds of days when he curses single fatherhood. Trent debates whether he can just skip work for the day, but the West Ham match is a mere week away. Nothing else for it. “Mia, how would you like to come to work with me today?”

notes: very sweet, good series. this particular work is pre-relationship, but i love crimmlet so much, and their interactions with the team.

Independent by TheBasilRathbone - medium sized fic (complete)

Trent Crimm might only recently be an independent journalist, but he's had no one to rely on but himself for far, far longer. And most days, it feels like he's barely keeping it together. So it only seems fitting that the conclusion to the worst period of his life is for the whole thing to go up in literal flames.  Luckily for Trent, help comes from a (not so) unexpected source.

notes: one of my favorite tedependent fics, not gonna lie. just. wow

some all-time favorites!

a man arrives on thursday by clementines_and_colorful_things - medium sized fic (complete)

The capture of a friend prompts notorious outlaw Ted Lasso to take on the crooked leadership of Nelson Road, Kansas, with his motley crew of castoffs, cowboys, and criminals. When English-born historian Trent Crimm finds himself unwillingly swept into the fast-paced world of Lasso and his outlaws, he gradually begins to unravel the enigmatic Ted Lasso’s complicated ties to Nelson Road’s most prominent players. Tensions run high as Ted evades arrest and plots the downfall of those who have wronged him, and Trent worries that Ted will meet the same abrupt end that most outlaws do: with a length of rope and a rather short drop. — A Ted Lasso Wild West AU

notes: a very good cowboy au from a very good author. not close to canon by any means, being a cowboy au, but very, very good nonetheless.

read our constellations by ShowMeAHero - long fic (complete) (series)

[summary of the first fic in a four fic ongoing series]

And Trent’s not a mess! He’s not. He’s got his life entirely together. He chose to reveal his source and give up his position with The Independent. He chose to start chasing book authorship as his new branch of his career tree. He chose his flat, and his car, and his life, down to the brands of tea he buys and the sorts of people he spends time with and the sheet sets he puts on his and Beatrice’s beds. He’s an adult man, for Christ’s sake. Of course, he’s got his life together. Everything is under his control, and it’s all fine. It’s entirely, completely, fully fine. Taking one last steadying breath, Trent opens his eyes and looks over the line of seven tests on the counter: the first he took a few hours ago, and the six he just took since. Each and every last one of them says he’s pregnant. Some have plus signs, some have two lines, some simply have the word pregnant. All of them may as well come together to form a little sign reading, Congratulations, Trent! You did it! You’ve finally made a goddamn bloody mess out of everything! Just wait until you have to tell Ted! Trent’s stomach turns for more reasons than one.

notes: what is there to say??? one of my favorite fics from one of my favorite authors. it does somewhat follow along canon, with a pretty obvious deviation of their relationship and trent (a trans man) getting pregnant. but i truly cannot recommend their fics enough. another lightning round of their more sfw tedependent fics:

to seek solace (exploration of trent and past abuse that makes me wanna bawl (positive))

you'll never walk alone (HEARTWRENCHING soulmate au, happy endings all around, i adore it)

you know (i love you so)

darling, i love you

come what may

birdhouse in your soul

[staring-at-my-keyboard]

An Awkward Ghost and Lively Ginger Walk Into An Old Cottage...

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

Some brief writing of a cute idea I got from @mayomkun where Donna moves out to the countryside and Ten is a ghost haunting her house.

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

Fluff

Comedy

(hint of angst)

TWs:

⇾ none!

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

“Hello?”

“Hello there.”

Donna gasped sharply, drawing back with a hand over her mouth.

“Well I can’t meet you if you’re hiding back there. Who are you?”

The voice, in an alarming contrast to how Donna thought a ghost would sound- because what else would this voice be- was solid, as if there were someone standing just in front of her. It was light, rather jovial, and sounded like a man. Probably wasn’t going to turn out to be a horrifying spectre crawling across the ceiling, then.

“I think I should be asking you that, weird… ghost… thing. I’m allowed to be alarmed, you’re talking to me from  my gloomy basement.”

“Fair enough, I suppose. Hold on-”

Something buzzed, and a soft ambient light emitted from… somewhere, showing a tall, thin figure standing in the middle of the room, which was nothing but bare stone walls and a rotted wooden floor. He had a soft smile on a surprisingly pretty, if boyish, face, and a pinstriped suit, over which draped a long brown duster. His light brown hair stuck up in all directions. Said figure was also translucent enough Donna could make out the cracks on the wall just behind him.

“Hello again,” He gave a little wave, the other hand stuck in his pocket. “I’m- um-” His face went blank for a moment, wide eyes searching. “I was a doctor, I think. A Doctor?”

“Well, Doctor it is, then,” Donna nervously stepped forward, flashlight held out like a weapon. He sure looked pretty solid– in terms of shape, at least. “What the hell are you doing in my basement, Doctor?”

His face lit up. “Oh, well I’m- I’ve just been passing through, really. Just seeing, travelling… although I think I’ve gotten a bit stuck. Something about this place, I don’t know…” The Doctor seemed to space out, so Donna cleared her throat. His eyes instantly refocused. “Right, but now you’re here, brilliant! Now I’ll just-” He stepped forward, only to violently startle at Donna’s reply.

“Oh, no you don’t! How do I know you won’t, I dunno, murder me or something.”

“Why would I murder you if I don’t even know your name? And besides,” He ran up to just in front of Donna with a few long strides, and went for her hand. Before she could draw away, he passed right through.

“I’m not quite here, you see. Not sure what happened. But I’ve been ‘not quite here’ for a while, I think. Still! It’s nice to meet a new face. At least one that I like.”

“Oi!”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, I meant I like you!” Donna gave an affronted look, as the Doctor looked increasingly worried. 

“No, not that your face isn’t perfectly pleasant, I meant you- you- well, I like things about you as well, um, like your attitude- not that you’ve got one! I just meant you’re pretty cool, and- oh, I sound like a bloody teenager, um-”

His nervous rambling was cut off by Donna’s laughter. When she managed to finally catch her breath, opening her eyes to see his face caught between affrontment and relief just sent her further into cackling.

“Um- ah…”

“Been awhile since you’ve actually had a conversation with a human, hasn’t it, Ghost Boy?”

“‘Ghost Boy’?” The Doctor raised a brow, his face the picture of confused offence. 

“What, would you prefer ‘Spooky Spectre’?” Donna fired back.

“I’d prefer ‘Doctor’, to be completely honest.”

“Right, but ‘Doctor’ is just a title anyone could have. If I’m not getting a name, I’m working with what I’ve got.”

“I suppose the perfectly suitable name I’ve just given you won’t work then?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“I’m starting to reconsider my decision to like you, Angry Ginger.”

“Oi! ‘Angry Ginger’?!”

“Well it’s not like I’ve got a name, either!”

“Well, it’s ‘Donna Noble’ to you, if the best you can come up with is ‘Angry Ginger’.”

“Lovely to meet you, Donna Noble!” His voice dripped with sarcastic saccharine.

“And you, Ghost Boy.”

The Doctor sighed.

“Wanna get out of the basement, then?” Donna asked.

“Oh, yes please.”

–

It became a sort of ritual for the pair: every day, mid-afternoon, they would sit on the old rocking bench in the backyard. Donna would ramble about her job, her granddad, complain about the man up the street who always mowed his lawn at 6am every Saturday. The Doctor would always listen, having a keen interest in the daily life of the living. Donna learned very quickly that he himself had little memory of being alive, but did have seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of astronomy and, weirdly enough, the history of the sci-fi genre.

On no special day in particular, the pair once again found themselves at their bench, looking out over one of the neighbours’ orchard.

“I’ve been stuck inside unpacking and organising for days now. ‘S nice that we have this, a time I get to just sit and feel the sun.”

“Oh, I wish I could.” The Doctor said breezily. “Nice to see it, though. A great big ball of deadly gas allowing for the creation of all this.” He gestured at the lavish countryside, before turning to smile at Donna. 

“I owe the sun for getting to meet you.”

“Don’t go getting mushy on me, Spooky.”

“Well, I do. You’re brilliant! Although maybe a bit scary-”

Donna raised a brow challengingly. 

“Which is plenty good! Everyone could do with a scary friend, I should know.”

“You? Scary? You look like a twiggy Uni kid who isn’t sure what year it is.” As she said that, Donna pointedly looked him up and down as a silent critique of his fashion sense.

“Really? I-” The Doctor’s face went blank as a hand came up to feel around it. “Actually, I’m- I’m not quite sure what I look like. Donna? Donna, what do I look like, I can’t remember, I haven’t seen my reflection in years, I-”

“Hey, hey, Doctor, calm down, it’s alright.” Donna resisted the urge to grasp his hands, which were wandering around his face, desperately trying to gauge an appearance from feel alone. She couldn’t even touch him to help calm him down.

“But everything is so fuzzy, and-”

“Tell you what, I’ll draw you then. How’s that sound?”

“Really?” The Doctor’s wide eyes looked into hers. “You’d do that?”

“Of course I would- you’re my friend, you daft ghost. ‘Course, I’ll have to learn to draw first. I’ve been meaning to, and it’s never too late, I suppose.”

The Doctor gave her a shaky grin. 

“I’d like that, Donna Noble.”

[dragondemoness]

A Hopeful Future - DV3 Cast x Ultimate Cuteness Reader Finale

Ten years since you graduated Hope’s Peak Academy.

You stand on the balcony of the house you shared with your significant other, who was standing right beside you.

At your beloved plush bunny’s request, you passed him down to your child, if you had one.

He was just as attached to the rabbit as you were when you first received him from your grandmother. It was an endearing sight.

But that didn’t mean the bond you shared with Mr. Bunny ever went away. He continued to give you any kind of support you needed, and sometimes, you had time to spend alone with him. He still loved to hold you like a baby, even though you were fully grown.

If you had any children, you’d best believe the rabbit does the same thing to them too.

When they were born, you handed them to Mr. Bunny to hold them, and he held them so gently, as though they were made of glass. And instead of cowering away from him, they curled into his soft chest, and you saw his black, beady eyes shine with tears.

He basically became their third parent, and sometimes, you had to pry the child away from him because he refused to leave their side. Then you would laugh as he got grumpy and pouted at you.

He was like the family’s bodyguard, and he did his job well. Not only was he very difficult to damage, but his keen senses did a great job at sensing danger, then getting rid of it before you or your family could find out.

Anyway, you watched the sunset with a peaceful expression, on the warm cottage property you always dreamed of living in.

Seeing you lost in thought, your significant other gets your attention by placing their hand on yours.

“Are you alright?”

You snapped to attention and gave them a warm smile and nodded.

“Just thinking about the past, and how we ended up here. It’s kind of weird to think about, but I couldn’t be happier.”

Your significant other nods and mirrors you, watching the sunset as well.

Shuichi Saihara

He smiles and chuckles at you.

“Yeah, kind of. But I’m glad we’re here now.”

After graduation, he received a letter from one of the best detective departments in the city

He spent many nights working, and often struggled to come to bed with you

But he still assured that you meant everything to him

Together, you had one child

They took after your appearance, but was shy, like Shuichi

You find them absolutely adorable

Shuichi smiles and takes your hand in his, as he turns back to the sunset

Rantaro Amami 

He chuckles at you and nods.

“It kind of is, huh? But hey, I’m not complaining.”

He still loved to travel, so he found a job where he could take business trips often

So sometimes he would leave for a while, but he sent postcards and gifts he knew you would like

Anything to let you know he was still thinking of you

You have at least two children with him

He loves taking care of people, but if two is enough for you, it’s enough for him

Sometimes he and Mr. Bunny argue over the children’s affections

It’s pretty funny sometimes

Rantaro smiles at you once more before slinging his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close to him

Kokichi Oma 

He tilts his head and gives you a look of mock confusion.

“Hmmmm? What do ya mean ‘weird’? Are you calling me weird??”

His face changes to a look of playful sadness before smiling at you.

“Yeah, I guess it is kinda weird. But at least we’re here now, right?”

Thanks to him and his organization, he earned a lot of money

He worked too hard to let it go, even after all these years

But he did promise not to do anything too evil

He’s not a fan of kids, so he doesn’t enjoy the idea of having one of his own

But if you really want a child, he might consider it

He hopes they’ll at least have a fun attitude and won’t be super boring

In the present, he wraps his arm around your waist and leans into you

He may not have gotten that last growth spurt, but at least his attitude matured

Somewhat

Kaito Momota 

He looks at you and grins widely.

“Maybe a little, but I’m happy to be where we are!”

He achieved his dream and got a job as an astronaut

Similar to Rantaro, he often leaves home to go on space expeditions

But he’ll bring you back souvenirs from the places he visits

He loves the idea of having kids, so you’ll probably have at least one

He’ll teach them about his passions, hoping they’ll take interest in it

As you sit together, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close to him with a smile

Gonta Gokuhara 

He turns and gives you a warm smile.

“Maybe, but Gonta is glad S/O stayed by his side for so long.”

He found a job where he could talk about bugs all day long

Some people found the way he talked to be weird, but he was improving

And he was at least able to talk about something he loved

He would love to be a dad, so you might at least have one child

Most you'll have is three

He'll introduce them to all his bug friends, and hopefully they won't be afraid of them

In the present, Gonta grins at you and pulls you into a soft, but tight embrace

Korekiyo Shinguji 

He looks ahead with a thoughtful hum before turning to you with a smile.

"Hm. I suppose you could say that. But I wouldn't dare rewrite history if it meant that we wouldn't be together.

To continue his passion for humanity, he started studying archaeology

And he no longer covered his face with a mask, since you being with him finally helped him to let go of his sister

He's not big on the idea of having children, but he's open to it if you want to

He'd prefer to have just one partially because he doesn't want a repeat of him and his sister

As you sit together on the balcony, he gives you a soft smile and takes your hand in his

Ryoma Hoshi 

"Yeah, kinda. But hey, at least we're here."

After leaving high school, he continued with becoming a tennis player

He hoped it would help him find himself, discover what he wants to do

It does help, and he remembers what he enjoyed so much before he lost it

He doesn't plan on having any kids, but maybe

He certainly wouldn't mind playing some tennis with them

Plus, his cat and your bunny have developed a loving relationship

If you do have a child, forget a third parent, they'd have a whole other set of parents

He smiles and takes your hand and pats it

K1-B0/Kiibo 

He nods at you while admiring the sunset.

"You could say that. But I wouldn't change a thing!'

I mean

He's a robot

There's a lot he could do

When Miu began her robotics company, he became an employee and worked alongside her for a while

And once he got enough money, he started one of his own

He was determined to show off the power of robots and what they can do when working alongside humans ahaha...

Having children is... Kind of difficult

But he would love to adopt one with you

He wants to experience what it's like to be a father, and to experience parental love

In the present, he takes your hand and squeezes it

Kaede Akamatsu 

She nods with a soft smile.

"Yeah. But I'm glad we're here."

She became a professional pianist

She started piano lessons for those who wanted to learn, and she played at big events

She would love to have a child with you

You'll have one, maybe two

She would love to play them soft, classical songs to help them sleep, and maybe even teach them

She leans against your shoulder with a small smile as you enjoy the moment together

Maki Harukawa

She nods and gives you a small smile.

"Yeah. But I'm glad it turned out this way."

After high school, she ditched her job as an assassin and went back to child caregiving

She wanted to leave that part of her life behind and pursue a more wholesome career

Although it was frustrating at first, the kids always liked her, and she started to warm up to them

She's still hesitant to have a child of her own, because she doubts if she can be a good parent

But she would love to have one, to give them the loving home she never got

And she'd do a damn fine job of it

While you sit together, she scoots closer to you and takes your hand while leaning on your shoulder

Miu Iruma 

She lets out a chuckle and watches the beautiful sight ahead of you.

"Heh, kinda. But hey, I managed to find your fine ass. I gotta say, that's pretty damn good."

She got a job as an engineer

Even started her own robotics company to show off her skill

She's still vulgar, she's still flirtatious, she's still Miu

But she has matured quite a lot

She doesn't really want kids, honestly

But if you do have one, she'd make them a bunch of cute toys for them to play with

As you sit together, she wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close with a grin

Himiko Yumeno 

She blinks sleepily and gives you a small smile.

"Nyeh... A little. But at least we're together."

She'd still give magic a shot, even after high school

She wants to prove that her "parlor tricks" are real magic

Mr. Bunny has actually been rather helpful in helping her achieve this, so she showed even greater skills to the world

She even started taking aspiring magicians under her wing and training them as apprentices

She doesn't love the idea of having a child; you and Mr. Bunny are all she needs

But she miiiight consider it if you really want one

She wouldn't mind teaching them magic if they were interested

In the present, your sleepy mage leans against your shoulder as you watch the sunset

Angie Yonaga 

She hums and smiles brightly.

"Indeed! But I'm glad that Atua put me on that path! It guided me to you, after all!"

She became a professional artist

She did commissions, sold art online, even sent some of her art to a museum

She even did art classes for anyone interested in learning from her

She would love to have a child with you, if you want

She'd teach them all about art, and she'll hang up everything they make on the fridge, even if it sucks

In the present, she giggles and pulls you close to her in a soft embrace

Kirumi Tojo 

She hums thoughtfully and gives you a small smile.

"Indeed. But I couldn't be more glad that we're here."

She still did work as a housemaid

People could call her and hire her whenever they needed

Only this time, she valued herself more

She doesn't take nonsense from anyone, nor does she allow anyone to take advantage of her

And it's all thanks to you

She would love to have a child with you

She would be strict at times, but also give them all the love and care they could ask for

As you sit together, she takes your hand in her gloved one and squeezes it

Tenko Chabashira 

She turns and gives you a smile.

"Yeah, a little bit. But at least I'm with you."

She became a Neo Aikido instructor

She taught people all over how to master it

But although her master did help her become strong, she didn't poison her pupils' opinions of men like she did

She didn't want them to become bitter and hateful

She wouldn't mind having a child with you if you wanted to

She'd love them with all her heart and soul, and might teach them the art of Neo Aikido when they're older

In the present, she grins and wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close

Tsumugi Shirogane

She hums thoughtfully before facing you with a warm smile.

“Yeah, it is. But I’m glad we’re here now.”

Her talent for cosplay expanded into designing actual costumes

People commissioned her for her talent, and she even had her costumes sold in stores

You'd best believe she'd make a billion different outfits for your child

She would love to have one with you

She would shower them with soooo much love

As you sit together, she smiles and takes your hand before leaning against your shoulder

As you two enjoy your moment, Mr. Bunny comes out with your favorite hot drinks and sets them on the table before sitting right between you two.

Any children you have, if any at all, come rushing out to you, causing you and your significant other to let out a laugh. Now all together, Mr. Bunny wraps his arms around you and pulls you both close to him, as your little family shares this loving moment together.

The End of the DV3 Portion of the Ultimate Cuteness Series

[murkystarlight]

Okay- @crystallisedroses since you asked me to write more about Luktra(and I've been dying to talk about this actually) so here it is!

Another round of random brain ideas

I personally think Petra and Lukas were childhood friends. Since they knew each other before the game, and it couldn't have just been from Lukas getting a nether star from her. Because- Petra was trying to get Jesse's gang to be friends with Lukas. She has no reason to do that unless we say that Petra was already friends with Lukas and wanted them to get along. Or Lukas was sad that they(him amd the treehouse gang) are like... forced into a rivalry(because of the other Ocelots) and kind of in a bad situation with each other but he thinks the treehouse gang are nice people and wants to be friends. So Lukas asked Petra if she could help with being friends with them since he knows Petra is friends with them. So, I like to think the two are close friends.

Speaking of childhood friends,

They know a lot of things about each other. So they tease each other a lot and use it agaist each other quite a bit.

I also really like to think that Petra was a really small and cute (and chaotic) kid when she was young. So when she got taller(and stronger) Petra made a lot of comments on it. But Lukas doesn't actually mind it all that much. Still pretended to be upset and made a lot of banter with her though.

Of course, one of the usual conversation starters would be,

"How did you get so tall? You were like the smallest kid ever"

Petra probably leans on his head a lot cause he has the good hair(and he isn't short y'know. So makes him a little bit uncomfortable to use as a arm rest). Makes a nice cozy place to face plant in

I also like to think that, Petra just loves messing with Lukas' hair. She ruffles it, ties it, decorates it... stuff like that. Lukas hates it. But gave up on trying to fix his hair and tell her to stop. He has no choice but to let her play with it until she's satisfied

Sometimes when she is in deep thought, she looks like she's planning to murder someone and everyone else is worried while Lukas has a warm smile on his face not feeling anything is wrong. The others look at him and go "she doesn't look the slightest bit intimidating to you?" And Lukas just keeps smiling and says "she looks calm" With like zero emotion(the others get used to it later)(and I'm not saying the others, the treehouse gang, weren't friends with Petra before the game. I'm saying that I think Petra would have been friends with Lukas longer than with them. Like.. if she was friends with Lukas since pre-school, then she would have been friends with the treehouse gang since like... high school-ish)

AND if Petra was younger than Lukas- that could make the cutest thing ever. Imagine Petra being like a clingy three year old, refusing to let go of a new friend she made. And Lukas is just standing there looking down at her, a girl he picked up on the streets that is now currently holding onto his legs, and he is patting her head with a smile.

Watching old videos and photos would be so fun- (Lukas probably has a lot of blackmail material from when they were really young like elementary school +some recent ones. And Petras would mostly be from when they are a bit more of age)

Lukas' cottage in season two was like- a checkpoint to Petra before she started going into distancing all her friends too much. She would sometimes stop there to visit him if she ever comes across a part of the forest where he lives. They would hang out and Petra gets a place to rest. Lukas often bakes her small snacks to bring along her adventures before she leaves. Even if she refuses them, they do come in handy when she doesn't have enough food around

They both love animals, so they like playing with Lukas' ocelot. Lukas is totally fine with the cat playing with Petra more than him.

Lukas got her into reading. Or, well. She always kind of liked reading, but she never really told anyone or read in public in front of people(cuz- persona lol)(you can kind of see something like this in the Netflix version). But sometimes they read together. Just sitting in the middle of a forest on a nice sunny day and just read for hours.

Lukas tries to keep a healthy schedule. Most of the time he does. The problem is when he is really into writing, then he forgets to take care of himself. So Petra tries to remind him not to do that, even when she isn't around. Which actually is a bit very irritating for Lukas since, she always brushes off her injuries.

Whenever Lukas finds/notices a new scar or some injury on her he sits her down and starts patching her up immeatiently. While scolding her for being too reckless and not telling anyone about them.

One last thing I want to add in this,

the song 'Valentine' by Laufey and 'Small girl' by 이영지

It fits so well to them(or maybe anyone. Just- it fits well with Petra for sure though) in my head- I swearr

So that's about it for now. This- it's all mixed up and makes no sense... and probably not the kind of content you were expecting🙏 but I can only remember stuff like this right now. I'm open to writing more about this though if anyone's interested 👉👈

I'm sorry- so hh... take this instead

Friends, lovers, whatever

I had fun🙂

[wonik1ss]

kitty prince — jg.n

pairing : prince jungwon x f!reader

song rec : love song - nct 127

“ You gotta be fucking with me! “. You yelled at your step mom.

“ What was I supposed to do? “. Your step mom yelled back at you as you rolled your eyes.

“ Ohh I don’t know.. GET A JOB OR HAVE ONE OF YOUR KIDS GET ONE?!?! “

“ Y/n me and you both know no of us are fit to work! “. You step mom said as she smiled and her two kids looked at you in disgust after your idea.

“ You know what forget this! “. You said ready to leave your dads little cottage in the woods. You were just going to run into town get your own job and forget your step mom and her mucher kids. You would think after your dad died and gave her everything she would take care of you but she didn’t give a shit about what you did.

As you opened the door and tried to walk out you were meet with what felt like a brick wall. As you looked up you saw a knight you backed away as your step mom eyes beamed.

“ You came to collect her right! “. The Knight nodded as told you to get your stuff. You rolled your eyes as you ran to your room and started to hurriedly pack your stuff. Maybe the prince was cute.. and would let you leave in a little house in the woods! Or.. he was some old creep who bought you to marry him.. by force. You shock your head as you closed you bag.

You were about to go meet the guard when you saw your window.. wide open.

“ Not so fast missy “. The knight said as she dragged you to the carriage he and his other knights came from. You kicked and screamed as your Step mom just waved and her kids snickered at you.

What a fucking witch

-

You keep your arms crossed and brows furrowed as you approached the castle; but soon your face turned into one of shock. How could 1 person live in such a big house, the castle looked like it was 100ft tall littered with gold accent’s everywhere. Gardens everywhere and a line of maids waiting for you.

As you stepped out the knight who grabbed you introduced you to all the maids and then brought you inside.

You now sat in a blue bedroom. The anger that used to fill you was gone and replaced with amazement. That was until you saw the door to the bedroom open and a boy walk in. He jumped when he saw you eyes wide.

“ Who- Who are you? “. You rolled your eyes as you stomped over to him.

“ The girl you bought! “. The boys eyes furrowed and then went wide as he started to pace around the bedroom.

“ Shit I was only joking I- I didn’t think they would actually do this! “. Imaginary steam came out of your ears as you stomped over to the boy and turned him around.

“ What are you talking about?! “

“ I joked with my parents that.. that if they wanted me to make friends they could just buy me one and.. here we are “. Your face dropped as you sat one the bed.

“ So your the prince- “

“ Jungwon.. yes.. “. You laughed as Jungwon tilted his head.

“ What’s so funny? “

“ Nothing.. it’s just that.. none of the articles I read about you talked about how you looked so much like a.. cat “. The princes face turned read as your walked up to him face to face now.

“ It’s not a bad thing.. your actually really cute! “. Without realizing you made the boy blush harder which made you laugh harder.

“ Stop It! “

“ Sorry Sorry! “

“ I can try to get my parents to bring you home if you want!!.. or you could stay and get paid to be my friend., “

“ And do what? “

“ Be my friend? “. You laughed as Jungwon’s face dropped.

“ I would want to be your friend for free so I don’t see the point “. Jungwon’s face lit up as you both sat down on the bed and went into a random conversation about if dogs were better then cats,

As Jungwon’s parents pecked in the room smiling to themselfs. There kitty prince finally had a friend.. even if they went around the wrong way to find him one.

[wsknbfanaccnt]

Kise x chubby reader cinderella

She was falling in love with kise, but kise only dates pretty girls, not ugly girls she was too scared to talk to him because she was too chubby, but then she met a strange woman she gave her pot to make her pretty but it will were off in midnight there's a prom tonight.

HIIII I don't usually do AU but this one seemed really cute and interesting! Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it!

btw the rhyming thing is not my doing- I just put in the words that I wanted to use and asked AI to make it rhyme😅😅 hope that's okay lol

Just a Glimpse

"There's a ball tonight!"

"A ball?"

"Yes yes, hosted by the prince!"

"Hosted by the Prince Ryouta?!"

"I heard he's hosting it to find a wife!"

The chatter all around your village rang through your ears, taking a deep sigh. You merely looked down at the bread that you were carrying in your wicker basket, seeing your rather large and chubby arms in the corner of your eyes.

"Why should I even bother..." you muttered to yourself, making your way home. As you stepped foot inside your humble cottage, you couldn't help but be lost in thought. It's Prince Ryouta, the most handsome prince in all of the Kingdom, and descended from the Kise family no less. A girl could ask for no better man.

You put the bread away in the pantry and rummaged through your cloest. Nothing but a few simple dresses, none fit for a ball at least. But there was one cute yellow dress that you always felt pretty in more than the rest.

I'm not even planning to go. Why am I putting this on? You thought to yourself as you put on your cute sunshine colored dress. You smiled as you combed your fingers through the soft fabric, savoring the fleeting feeling.

But it didn't last for long. You caught yourself looking in the mirror, observing every imperfection. How some fat buldged on the sides of the dress. The way the straps dug into your shoulders. How your thighs tightened the dress. You wanted to take it off and rip it to shreds. But you didn't want to destroy your favorite dress.

Prince Ryouta always made his relationships public. Even the villagers knew his taste by now, and it was always the most beautiful girls in the kingdom. But for some reason, they always ended up falling apart.

"If he keeps breaking up with those beautiful girls... I don't stand a chance." you told yourself, shaking your head. You stepped outside, eyeing the castle from your cottage. Guests were already starting to flow in, you guessed, since the lights outside the castle had started to dance.

"Pretty girl… pretty girl, cheeks so soft and full,

You wish to dance, to charm, to pull."

That voice sent chills through your spine, looking around in fear. You were so sure that you were alone.

"Over here, pretty girl, come close, come near,

Step to the shadows; there’s nothing to fear."

In the shadows was a woman, an old woman in a long cape and a hood so large you could barely see her face.

"Don't mock me..." you hissed, turning towards the door.

"Wait, wait! A potion, slender and sly—

One little sip, and pounds say goodbye."

You stopped in your tracks, glancing at the shadows.

"A-A potion...?"

"Oh yes, oh yes… come near, come near!

I’ll trade it for the basket, my dear—full of bread so warm and sweet,

A tasty price for a slimmer feat."

There was no debate. A chance to be with Prince Ryouta! Just for a night, every young girl's dream... You can buy bread tomorrow.

"Wait here-!" you said to the woman, rushing indoors. Within a blink of an eye you brought out the wicker basket with bread, putting it on the ground near the shadows. With one swift move, it disappeared and was replaced by a small potion bottle.

"This potion holds a hidden flaw,

For when the clock strikes, it fades without a draw.

At midnight's chime, your hopes may wane,

All that you gain could vanish in vain.

So seize the chance, don’t linger in dismay,

Hurry now, pretty girl—time slips away!"

"Thank-" but as you looked up at her, she was gone. You ran to the purple bottle and opened it, immediately downing all the contents. Then all you had to do was wait.

But you didn't have to wait for long. You felt as if you were suddenly drenched in beautiful gold and silver, closing your eyes to let that feeling engulf you. You felt yourself change. Your waist slimmed, your dress tightened. When it all stopped and you opened your eyes, you ran inside and looked at the mirror.

"Oh... I'm so pretty...!"

You looked like everything you've ever wanted to look like. You were ready for the ball. Glancing at the clock that read 9:30pm, you nodded in determination.

Even just a glimpse of Prince Ryouta...

_____

You arrived in front of the steps just in time, right before they had closed the gates. You sprinted inside, catching your breath as you realized where you were.

You've never been inside the castle before. You reeled in from the beauty, the elegance of it all, the structures and the decorations. Nothing less for a prince.

Looking around you realized as well just how many people there were in this ball. And most of them were girls.

Your heart suddenly started to beat fast. Voices in the back of your head started to mock you, degrade you.

You don't belong here.

You shook them off, taking a deep breath and roaming around to see what this ball had in store. After all, you looked pretty now.

"Make way for Prince Ryouta!" a guard suddenly called out, his voice booming through the entire Hall. The crowd parted in the middle as Prince Ryouta himself made his grand entrance.

"Good evening everyone~!"

Boy he was as handsome as his pictures. But seeing him in real life... he was just the perfect man.

"Please enjoy the ball. Thank you all for attending, ssu~!" he announced as the rest of the crowd blew up in cheers. But you merely smiled softly, looking at the handsome prince.

A glance, that was all you wanted. And you got it. Don't expect anything more. You told yourself.

In defeat you made your way to the food, grabbing a plate. After all, no one would recognize you when after tonight, since the potion would wear off anyways. Deciding that you didn't care, you served yourself heaps of food. Meat, rice, potatoes, all of it. And you were excited to eat.

Most of the crowd stared at you as you made your way to an empty table, sitting down as you started scarfing down your food. You had manners, but by God the food was just so good. So good that you didn't even notice Prince Kise Ryouta standing over you.

"It's not everyday that you see a girl that can handle her food. Do you like it?"

You halted, and looked up at him, your cheeks stuffed like a squirrel. To your surprise, Prince Ryouta giggled.

"You look so cute like that," he chuckled, sitting next to you.

You slowly swallowed your food, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

"I'm sorry- I didn't notice you Prince Ryouta... but yes, the food is really good," you smiled a little. But internally, you were panicking. Everyone was staring at the both of you, murmurs and whispers scattered around.

"I didn't catch your name," he said, smirking softly and grabbing your hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"(Y-Y/N), my Prince...." you muttered shyly.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." he then leaned closer to your ear. "You wanna get outta here, ssu~?"

The crowds were panicking at this point as well. It was the first time Prince Kise Ryouta had ever pursued a girl by himself.

"U-Uhm... sure..!" you managed you blurt out. The Prince took your hand and pulled you through the crowds, and to the garden where no one else was allowed. The Prince took a deep sigh, shaking his head.

"Was a bit stuffy in there, don't you think?" he chuckled, smiling at you.

"Y-Yeah..." you muttered.

What the devil is happening?!

"You know, most girls I've dated are so stiff and cutesy and all that. Always eating just the tiniest bit of food. But you... well. No one has ever appreciated my food that much before."

"Your food...?"

"Yes yes~ I've been getting lessons from my chef and such, but no one really eats any of my food..." he pouted.

He pouted.

You tried to hold your laugh in but eventually it just came out, bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Hey, why are you laughing at me ssu?!"

"I'm sorry- pfft-! It's just- you look really cute... And everyone always worships you as if you're some God, but you're just a dork-" you laughed. Prince Kise Ryouta smiled fondly, watching how your face wrinkled in certain places when you laughed.

"I think you'll be perfect as my princess for the rest of my days. What do you think, ssu~?"

You suddenly halted, looking at him. He's asking you? You??? To be his girlfriend? And his princess???

"I..."

Your eyes caught the clock on the wall. 11:58, it read.

"I... I can't- I'm sorry!" you said, getting up and sprinting through the garden. You could feel the potion wearing off by the second.

"W-Wait- Where are you going?!" he called out, chasing after you.

Unfortunately, you did not know the way through the garden. As the clock striked twelve you were in your yellow dress again, and in your chubby body.

The woman lied. I'm not pretty... I'm ugly.

In the middle of the garden you fell to your knees, knowing you had no hope. Tears started to stream down your face, covering it with your hands. Prince Ryouta heard your sniffles and immediately ran to you, stopping as he saw the mess.

"I'm sorry- I deceived you... I'm not the pretty girl you met earlier..." you confessed, crying into your hands.

"I'm not pretty..."

Prince Ryouta went over to you, kneeling in front of you to get to your eye level.

"(Y/N)... please let me see your face," he said, reaching out and gently lifting your face with a finger. You looked at him with your tear stained face, your lips quivering.

"Not pretty? You should look in the mirror, ssu." he chuckled, looking at you with his golden eyes.

"What...?"

"You're even more beautiful than I thought."

You only realized what happened when your lips felt Kise's. You succumbed to the kiss, melting in his arms. Finally, someone found beauty not only in your body, but also your heart.