#citrus scale lemon

[tee-hee-heidi]

Little doodle dump + some random rambles. Sorry for the massive censoring, buuuut you can always see them on my Furaffinity

[superbeans89]

Modern fanfic writers: Spicy 🥵 Fic!

Me, who’s been in fandom since the 90s:

[mysterygrl20]

need a new bl show to watch but unsure of how spicy it is? someone made a spicy index list

🌶️ - Bell pepper - longing glances, maybe a caress and pinky touch, solid hugs, no kisses (Cherry Magic)

🌶️🌶️ - Jalapeño popper - 1 or 2 kisses, closed mouth or hidden behind camera angles, full of cheesy emotions but not sexual (Mr. Unlucky has No Choice but to Kiss)

🌶️🌶️🌶️ - Sriracha - at least 1 decent kiss, actual makeout with or without tongue, but clothes stay on (Bad Buddy, Semantic Error)

🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ - Birds eye chili - multiple solid kisses and some clothes come off, but cuts away before any pants come off and hands generally stay above the waist, it's implied that they have sex but we only see the very start of the encounter (609 Bedtime Story, Between Us, Until We Meet Again)

🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ - Specialty hot sauce - all or most clothes come off at least once, full on simulated sex happens though it can be masked with sultry background music and may or may not include an implication of climax (Ghost Host Ghost House, Cutie Pie, Long Time No See)

🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ - Carolina reaper - full nudity at some point, though junk may be cleverly hid with angles and conveniently placed furniture, these boys fuckin and there ain't no ambiguity about it, sexy sounds at full volume rather than replaced by music or voiceover (Kinnporsche, Love in the Air)

🌶️☠️ - Pepper spray - there's full on sex and/or nudity but it's not pleasant or intended to be sexy, can apply to graphic SA scenes or just the marketing campaign for Dangerous Drugs Of Sex

(the show list isn't fully comprehensive yet but a great start)

[toxintouch]

Started out as an elaborate “draw me like one of your French girls” joke and spiraled outta control from there... @lu-dao-writes posted the same scenario in their Kinktober 2024 and they were kind enough to give me their blessing to post my take! Please check out their fics as well!  If this scenario in particular interests you, I rec you this post! :3

Further details below the cut so that the above the cut stays safe for anyone who is just scrolling through!

18+ Content MDNI || VERE x AIS x Reader

PROMPT/KINK(S): Dom!Vere, Dacryphilia (Tears)* + Cockwarming + Size Difference + Consensual Voyeurism. Power Play. (Some feral monsterfucking spice sprinkled v lightly on top.) [*original challenge prompt, randomizer used.]

OTHER INFO: “You” pronouns used for MC/Reader. Unspecified genitalia for both POV Character and Vere but Ais has a dick. Reader is the receiving partner in penetrative sex.

“Hmm, hold that pose,” Vere purrs.

Ais huffs a hot breath into your face as he freezes above you.  His brows furrow, mouth twisting into a determined grimace as he grits his teeth.  His forearms tense hard where they are resting on either side of you, fingers flexing against the silken sheets.

You can feel him pulsing inside of you.  A hot, insistent ache.

You try to relax, try to breathe through it but the lack of movement makes you hyper aware of every inch, the raw feeling of him stretching you open, the way your body twitches so sickly-sweet with the effort.  You inhale a slow, shaking breath, chest trembling, and shut your eyes in an attempt to block out some of the sensations—the clawing need gnawing at your core.

“Eyes open, darling,” Vere corrects you, tone somewhere firmly between scolding and teasing.  “And turn your face back towards Ais.  I’m trying to capture the moment .”  Your heart is pounding in your ears but you can hear Vere’s smooth, sly voice with perfect clarity.  Ais is an overwhelming force but Vere is a magnetic presence; no matter how caught up in each other you and Ais can get, Vere will always command attention without effort.

You turn your chin as requested, only to be caught in Ais’ gaze

(Caught and breathless–the same way you were when he was bullying his thick length into your hole, thrusting sharply and sighing in satisfaction, his fingers still at work massaging and pressing and stroking as he sunk into you inch by inch; he'd prepared you until your entrance was puffy and swollen, sopping with thick, medicinal smelling lube and he still had to take his time.  Fucking you slowly until you could take all of him.  And then, the moment you finally could...)

“Hmm, that's better.  Stay just like that.  Let me see those pretty expressions.”  You hear Vere adjusting his heavy vellum paper.  The glide of quick, clever lines being drawn.

You maintain eye contact with Ais, drunk off his breath, his body, the very essence of him, hovering so close above you, and are utterly unprepared to meet his intensity.  The way he looks at you like he’s seconds from devouring you, barely held in check by the challenge that Vere has laid before him.  Before both of you.

You bite into your lower lip as you shift involuntarily, oversensitive nerves still riding the throbbing of Ais’ dick.  He’s so fucking thick and girthy that he presses at the soft spot inside you without even trying. The angry pulse of him is a gratifying thrum, stoking your aching heat by way of mere burgeoning contact.

His cock gives another strong twitch and your insides clench around him.  He feels so fucking good–you almost think you might be able to come like this, if you can get your body to keep on clenching like that. 

—Almost.

Your next breath comes out as a sob.  There’s a high pitched whine building at the base of your throat and your lashes are wet when you blink.

A monstrous snarl escapes Ais’ lips, one that you can feel even more than you can hear, the vibration of it echoing through your body everywhere you're pressed against him.  The pinnacle between your thighs pulses with it, and your toes curl involuntarily as an errant tear runs down your cheek.  Ais is shaking, sweat dampening his face, his pupils expanding and contracting rapidly, his eyes locked on you as he barely holds himself back.  “Sparrow,” he says, gravel in his tone. 

You say his name in return, your head tipping involuntarily, bearing the softness of your throat, faded marks from both your lovers decorating your skin.  You hear the sheets rip below you, torn into shreds where Ais’ nails have dug into them.

Vere sighs pointedly.  You hear him stop his work, tap his charcoal against the paper as if he’s not entirely satisfied with the scene in front of him.  He pauses for a long time, leaving you both in limbo.

When he moves, it’s to stand.  To saunter over to you both.  You’re pinned beneath Ais, unable to look away, but you can feel Vere’s shadow fall over you just before his hand touches your face, forcing your eyes to his as he catches a crystalline tear with his index finger.

“Shame,” he says, dipping his fingers into his mouth, his tongue lapping up the taste of your tears, lavishing the digits with his tongue.  You whine out a desperate, quiet note just from watching his tongue at work and he basks knowingly in the attention.  “I really thought I could get you both crying.”  He smiles dangerously once his fingers have left his mouth. 

He uses them to drag a wet path down Ais' spine.  “Oh, but the night is still young.  Perhaps I may still think of something that will do the trick...”

18+ Master List | SFW Master List ✦"Kinktober Speedrun & Other Gratuitous (TOUCHSTARVED) Smut" on Ao3

[thedarkmistress16]

here's some long-awaited tony food for your thots

(im serious this is 100% PWP done in like, *check watch* 6-8 hrs or so in one sitting- it's all over the place, fam)

let me know immediately if any of you want me to community label this, if that makes you more comfortable. if you want another installment (it will have actual plot i promise) just let me know. None of the used images here are mine, they belong to their respective owners, I only own my garbage writing.

Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Experienced!Unfaithful!Reader x Jealous!Yandere!Tony Stark- Repression and Suppression

and here are some messy A03-esque tags for your reading pleasure (srsly read these before continuing or you void your reading warranty):

(Lime, Lemon, G-rape, Cheating, Physical Cheating, Unintentional Cheating, Affair, Noncon, Dubcon, Forced Orgasm, Overstimulation, Fingering, Oral, Vaginal, MxF, PWP, Love Triangle, Jealousy, Third Wheel Tony Stark, Sexual Deviant Tony Stark, Manipulation, Humiliation, Dirty Talk, Swearing, Teasing, Gaslighting, Sexual Coercion, Power Play? Beard Burn, The run of shame?, Lust used as a manipulation tool, Tony blatantly misunderstands words, The horny ruins lives, Reader’s never cheated in her life ong she just misses sex, Tony is all kinds of wrong here, OOC Tony Stark, His dialogue is probably OOC sorry about that, No descriptors besides gender have fun)

...

You don’t know how this happened.

…

Okay, you do know how this happened. You and Tony stumbled upon the same floor in an otherwise empty Tower and you both plopped on the same couch shooting the shit. No paperwork for you to do and no big baddie causing a commotion in New York for the Iron Man to stop. And you may have overshared a tad about the feelings you’ve been having at his prompting about your relationship status, but hey, that’s normal, even for sober people. Everyone needs to vent every once in a while. Or overshare, or both.

What you didn’t expect, however, was your totally innocent sex conversation with Tony to turn into dirty talk. Which, alright- fair, this was Tony you were talking to, so probably not your best moment.

“It’s not like he’ll find out.” Tony’s palm rests on your thigh. “And you said so yourself, he doesn’t give you what you need.”

But thankfully, that’s when your brain started working again, and you actively began to create some space between you, with his hand falling off your leg.

“No, Tony. You know who I’m with and you know he’ll be coming back.”

Tony follows you and- what the fuck? Was this couch always this small? The palm greets your thigh again, more insistent now if the pressure was any indication.

“Can you really wait that long?”

You stare at Tony, incredulous at the turn of events. He wouldn’t- would he?

You see him smile at you before diving in for a kiss.

Wide-eyed, your first reaction is to push him off, but he practically falls on top of you, keeping you pinned there as his tongue goes to work in prying your mouth open.

You struggle, and then, well, he knew how to kiss to get what he wanted, that was for sure. It was so different from what you were used to with him, all chaste and loving. Tony used the flat surface of the appendage to massage your tongue, and- holy fuck you really forgot what good kisses felt like. Tony feels so good- so warm and passionate, that his embrace sends you into a blanketed bliss.

And as you make out, that blanket grows more and more stuffy. You lose track of time, and- well, yourself. The next time you open your eyes, you’re greeted to a shirtless and more disheveled Tony Stark on top of you, kissing down your neck, and humping his bulge against you and- oh fuck your pants were gone.

Okay, this had officially gone too far. Yes, this was hot, and yes your body was awakened from the longest dry spell ever by his kisses, but you had to try and stop this. You had to get Tony to shut this shit down, and then blame your horny self later.

But first, Operation Turn off Tony.

“Wait!” Your hands fly to Tony’s chest, pushing with effort despite wanting to melt into a puddle. “I can’t- you know I can’t-”

Okay, your voice would’ve sounded commanding if Tony hadn’t run his hands under your shirt.

And if his arm wasn’t practically glued to the damn cushions you would've had more leeway to shake him off. And if he wasn’t so stron-

Wait- one arm?

…

…oh my god why is he pushing against you?

“Oh?” It comes out automatically and your body absolutely preens at the sensation before you come back down.

Oh fuck no- now two of his fingers are inside you and you’re not sure if you can even try to hold him off now.

Think of Steve think of Steve think of Steve think of Steve-!

“Tony, mmn-m, pl-”

“Why refuse this?” He pauses to let his fingers talk and the resulting squelching has you trying to seal your mouth in protest. “Why refuse me? When the sweet release you want is right in front of you?” His fingers fall away. “And when this-” he rolls his denim-covered penis over your pussy, eliciting a groan from both of you, “cock is ready and begging to be inside you?”

There is no hope to quell your blushing at this point either, you unhelpfully surmise to yourself. But even so, you don’t let up, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

“He’ll, ah- find out, hah, Tony.” Fucking hell it was hard to form words now, “and he w-will-”

Tony, more envious than you’ve ever seen him, snarls in retaliation. “Don’t think about him! He’s not the one who’s going to be fucking you tonight.” He takes a moment to regain his composure before adding, “don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you feel so good you can’t stand it.”

“Ton- ah!”He hit a sensitive spot inside you, and your body jolted with the feeling. “P-please...ha...” You pant, trying to control yourself as his fingers retract. Trying to think of Steve instead, and all the other reasons why you shouldn’t be doing this. Why he shouldn’t be doing this to you and how he’s currently making you tingle in too many places.

In mock concern, he inquires, “what is it, baby? I’m right here...” You swear to the highest moon that Tony Stark’s teasing is the worst kind you’ve ever had to experience in your entire life; mainly because he does it in a way that pisses you off to no end.

“I- Tony, I n-need you to-” He shushes you, leaving you more baffled. He doesn’t even know your request yet and he’s already cutting you off. The playboy slides two fingers inside your wet canal and you cry out in surprise. They slip out within the next second, not allowing you to properly process the action. He languidly laps at his fingers and you actually whine at the sight, which is literally the worst reaction you could've had. Tony hums at the taste and his eyes, holding your own, gleam wickedly as you attempt to recover.

“Oh, you need me to fuck you baby? Say no more.”

You gasp, utterly scandalized. How the fuck did he interpret a nothing sentence into that? He’s already working on unzipping his jeans and you’re quick to remedy the situation, despite your breathlessness. “No, Tony, that’s not-” A hand swiftly comes down to palm your sensitive pussy and squeezes, attempting to shut you up with desire. You’re shameful when you realize his tactic worked, as you find it elicits a sexual groan from you strong enough to make your head tilt up towards the ceiling and your back arch off the couch. Tony tuts at your wanton display.

“Don’t deny it, honey. You’re absolutely dripping for cock.” He leans in close to your ear and latches his mouth onto your neck. The man nibbles and suckles enough to probably leave a mark before playfully biting your earlobe and whispering, “and I’m more than willing to provide that relief.” A small part of you finds it ironic he’d use the word willing when you haven’t vocally confirmed it in this case.

When he’s fully sheathed inside you, he sits still for a minute, groaning at the feel of you. Tony then starts circling his hips, not thrusting in the slightest, and at this point you’ve had enough of his games. If he wants to do this so badly then so be it. “No teasing…” you huff unpleasantly.

“Hmm? What was that?” His member is still nudging against the ridges of your vaginal walls, causing your lower body to spasm and tighten at random intervals.

“If you’re going to fuck me then actually fuck me.” You make your voice harsh to get your impatience across, keeping your gaze even. Tony simply winks and wastes no time setting a pace inside you, smirking pleasantly as your body shifts from his thrusts. He licks his lips at the sight of your breasts bouncing underneath your shirt and impatiently forces the fabric up to your neck to squeeze at one. 

You close your eyes and furrow your brows, focusing your efforts on meeting Tony’s thrusts and tightening your pelvic muscles frequently to help his orgasm along. Judging by his strained moans, the fruits of your past lovers' labor seem to be working. He starts to shudder and you beam with pride.

Jackpot.

That is until he yanks himself out of you completely, struggling to hold himself over your body.

“Mngh, hah- baby,” he laughs in between ragged breaths, “let’s not spoil the fun too early, now…”

Tony then switches to playfully dragging his cock along the splayed seam of your lips, right over your spasming hole, and you wouldn’t have been able to hold in that unholy moan if you tried.

He flips you over without a word, leaving you disoriented with an “oof,” as he re-positions you to make your ass hang lewdly in the air. Tony swats one asscheek and your hands scramble to find purchase before he tries something else, which you seldom find in the firm material. Another mocking sound escapes his throat at your reaction and you turn your head to glare at him.

“Could have given a girl a warning, y’know?”

“Well, sweetcheeks, I can’t very well tackle this raging problem unless I approach it from all possible angles~” His eyes rove over your new position admiringly. “And this view is definitely worth the effort.”

He winks at you, smirking all the while. You refuse to react, deadpanning, before giving up. “Fuck you, Stark.”

He says some other comment you don’t care about- on the lines of having patience- when something wet wiggles across your folds-

Your eyes widen. Was this a better advantage point for him to-

His tongue thrusts itself inside your walls and you lose all sense of thought, wanting to collapse into the couch already. Tony’s firm and swift in his movements, pressing the angle of his chin into your mound harshly and rubbing your sensitive areas consistently. The stiff hairs of his beard rub themselves across your clit as he leans forward and you lose all sense of yourself, screaming into the cushioned void and spasming around his mouth.

Your hips lull into a gentle rocking, you realize, when the sensations have dulled. You can still feel Tony between your legs, but licking you much more softly now. Your satisfied mews fall out of your mouth like a gentle stream, and you let yourself bask in the well-overdue afterglow.

Tony slowly parts from your pussy with a smacking sound, and you feel saliva trailing down your thighs as you whine. You hear him say the word “ready” and you hum questionably, not in the mood for words. He leans forward to kiss up your back and make a path for your ear, reiterating himself.

“You ready for me, honey?”

“Mm, you’re not-?”

“-finished? How kind of you to offer, baby. After all, I haven’t finished fucking you into forgetting him yet.”

Your brain almost fits the pieces together, already turning towards him to voice the question when you feel him line up his cock at your entrance. You don’t even bother doing anything other than bracing yourself as Tony thrusts into you, and you realize too late that you’re still too sensitive.

He’s more insistent as he fucks into you, just as his mouth, but he’s humping into all the right places despite your body singing to the point of pain.

“Ahn! O-oh!” At this point, you literally didn’t care that your face was practically being suffocated by the cushions that Tony Stark- your not-boyfriend- was pushing you into and fondling your breasts. You were about to get an orgasm on a dick you haven’t been treated to in months on top of a great orgasm, and it was quickly feeling like it was going to be one of the best ones you’ve ever had.

“Oh, fuck- yes, oh- Tony- fuck-! me!” You manage to scream out over your lack of breath, feeling his thrusts grow frantic. The determined mumbling he’s spouting over your ear becomes noise as your second orgasm crashes over you. Your ears are fuzzy but you can make out Tony proclaiming your name in ecstasy before he plops down on your back, causing your legs to fully give out.

You pant there, lying in sweat and regret, wanting to move just yet but knowing you have a lot of cleanup to do.

Tony shifts first, stroking your hair as he whispers once more, “So, was that a thorough fucking for you baby?”

Despite yourself, you laugh. Whether it was from the now spiraling guilt slowly ebbing away at your brain or that it was from the sudden feeling of loss in how to handle your new infidelity status, you didn’t know. You chalked it up to exhaustion.

Tony mumbles again, but you’re coherent enough to understand his words and nod, calmly lying there as he gets up. 

You waited until the bare ass of Tony left your line of sight before you shot up like a lightning bolt, gathering your clothes and racing toward the elevator in one fluid motion.

You impatiently return to your room to inspect Tony’s damages in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, trying to ignore the aftersex glow you still had. Your hands trail over your naked body, taking note of the reddened marks with each twist and turn. Yep, that was definitely a hickey.

They halt on your thighs when you feel a searing pain there and your eyes grow wide, mouth hanging open with a hiss.

Oh fuck. You had beard burn. How the hell were you going to explain that to Steve? Covering them up was one thing- but the itching pain you were going to feel?

The cum inside you suddenly shifts downward and you instinctively clench to hold it in, cringing at yourself. Another man’s mess splattered on the carpet of your and your boyfriend’s room is not what you needed right now.

Biting the inside of your lip, you hurry to the connecting bathroom and wash yourself of the sexual encounter the best you can.

[plantanarchy]

My variegated lemon tree is blooming in my greenhouse and I hand-pollinated some flowers today. Citrus trees are one of my least favorite plants to care for but somehow this one hasn't annoyed me too much yet.

[not-poignant]

I've just realised I'm now old enough that when I hear 'Citrus Scale' I no longer think of the Lemon/Lime/Orange categorisations that indicated how much smut was in a fic

I think of literal citrus scale that means I need to chop some branches off my lemon tree lsajfsa

[sourfacedlemon]

Written for Siderea ( @siderealdei ) for the 2024 Smut Wars Exchange ( @smut-wars-exchange )!

-

"(And I like you)" 🔒

The Inquisitor's brother (and the Inquisitor himself, truth be told) is a strange and somewhat disturbing man. Dorian Pavus could use more of that energy in his life.

Rating: Mature

Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types

Relationship: Savage Opress/Dorian Pavus

Additional Tags: Crossover Pairings, Alien/Human Relationships, Minor Darth Maul & Savage Opress, Minor Darth Maul & Dorian Pavus, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Last Resort of Good Men, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Nightbrother Culture & Customs (Star Wars), hey yall the nightbrothers make me SAD, Alien Cultural Differences, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, POV Dorian Pavus, Darth Maul is the Inquisitor but It Ain't About Him

Words: 3,162

Part 1 of "hollow but we're brave"

-

"veins run red and blue" 🔒

Dorian Pavus and Savage Opress against the world. (One of them, at least.)

Rating: Explicit

Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types

Relationship: Savage Opress/Dorian Pavus

Additional Tags: Crossover Pairings, Alien/Human Relationships, Alien Cultural Differences, Nightbrother Culture & Customs (Star Wars), POV Dorian Pavus, Purring, Savage Opress Does Not Have A Big Dick, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Darth Maul is the Inquisitor but It Ain't About Him, one cheeky use of 'brother' but like in a brothers-in-arms nightbrother kind of way

Words: 1,440

Part 2 of "hollow but we're brave"

[sndwave]

I don't mind per se the usage of "spicy" as a semi-sanitized way of referring to sexual content in books but i do dislike how it has no real differentiation between "just barely past pg-13 fade-to-black" and "they fuck nasty in every single chapter in ways you never even heard of"

[sukoshininja]

me: *writing a spicy scene* me: *identifies as aroace* me: wow, idk what i'm doing, time to get lost on ao3. me: for ✨Research™✨

[tee-hee-heidi]

What could they be doing? 👀👀 check out my Furaffinity to find out!

[gaywarcriminals]

Does YQY's titties bounce? (barkbark woofwoof)

Have you seen the mass of those things? Of course they do. People underestimate how soft muscle its when its not flexed, not to mention that muscle is generally marbled with some fat, so those tiddies are absolutely beholden to gravity. I'm not sure even a modern sports bra could control them. If ever Yue-shixiong decides to go shirtless as he practices, the whole of Qiong Ding is waylaid for the day as people sneak looks.

[desertsportshipping]

This is for the two people who answered my poll in blog updates wanting to see them bone.

[x]

[aces-to-apples]

"a kiss may be grand"🔒

Written for hollyand (@hollyand-writes) for Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition 2024 (@dasmutquisition)!

When the cat's away and whatnot.

Rating: Explicit Category: F/M Relationships: Carver Hawke/Merrill (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Dragon Age II - Act 1, Developing Relationship, Miscommunication, Sex Pollen, Aphrodisiacs, Vaginal Sex Words: 4,078 Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition 2024

[foxesscreamingafterdark]

The Manic One Lore Post

Please Read the Tags Before Reading.

The 'deity' that Leo and his cult worship and feed is named The Manic One. That is not it's true name, none of it's followers have ever known it's true name. The Manic One declares one follower as it's 'enforcer' for lack of a better way to put it. This Enforcer is the one that leads the group in the name of their 'deity.'

The cult is generally seen as fun loving partiers by outsiders, which is by design. They allow outsiders to take part in their festivities like their holidays or holy days. What really happens is a mystery to people outside, which I think is standard cult behavior.

Along with a Enforcer, The Manic One 'blesses' one person. That person becomes the community fuck-hole, as per The Manic One's wants. If this is not followed, the 'blessed' person and the Enforcer are killed by the monster itself. Why is a mystery, but its assumed that whatever is done to the 'blessed one' feeds this creature.

And it's not like they can't see this thing, no; it's tangible. Whether you want to see it is debatable. It resides in a completely closed palanquin that the group carries with them from city to city. Inside it looks endless and all you can see of the creature is hundreds of slimy, wet, wriggling tentacles. Some have razors on whatever is considered the bottom. Others can deposit egg-shaped things. What these things actually are is unknown. Many followers theorize that they're the monsters unfertilized eggs. The Enforcers and the 'blessed ones' are the only ones who've seen more than the tentacles; The Enforcers see the creatures eyes and are subjected to its whispers. Ex-followers say that, from then on, it controls that person or drives them insane.

And the 'blessed ones' are taken completely into the palanquin and subjected to countless brutal fucks, forcing them to rapidly get used to their new role. Then, when they're ready, they're spat back out. If they do not conform to their role before they leave the palanquin, they're never seen again. If the 'blessed one' does not conform once they're out of the monsters domain, they're thrown back in. Usually that's where they stay.

The group travels around, recruiting as many people as possible and feeding their 'deity' when necessary. Aside from taking in people, it's not known why The Manic One makes them travel. It is known that it dictates where they stop and when they pick up again.

[slusheeduck]

For Want Of A Wish

[I]

II. Last Night

“So you two are really venturing off into the Feywild?” Gale asked the next morning—well, afternoon, really—over coffee and leftover tart. “That’s a death wish to most, you know.” 

“Most people aren’t fey-favored,” Falerin said with a little smile, scratching Zel’s ears as she hopped up into his lap. “But my patron won’t come over here, which means I need to go over there.” He shrugged. 

“But I’ve been there before, remember. And we’re going to the Summer Court, with the Seelie; not nearly as dangerous as dealing with the Unseelie.” 

“I thought there was no such thing,” Astarion said, stitching as he listened. “I mean, Seelie and Unseelie. I thought that was something we made up.” 

Falerin tilted his head back and forth. “I mean, it’s not actually good versus evil. But the Unseelie are…less patient, and more easily offended. And it’s already easy to offend the fey.” He made a face. “I learned that the hard way a few times.” 

Gale leaned forward. “So how does one get there? I’ve only heard of people making contact with the fey that have come here, and those who found themselves spirited away one way or another.” 

“Oh, just a fey crossroad. That’s how I did it before.” 

Gale’s eyebrows shot up. “Those are real? I thought it was just stories.” His eyes lit up as he leaned in closer. “How do they work?” 

Falerin looked over the table for a moment, then grabbed the paper with the design Astarion was working on. “Can I use this, love?” When Astarion nodded, he held it out to Gale. “It makes a lot more sense than the astral prism we were carrying around, for one. But imagine this end of the paper is our world, and this end is the Feywild. There are points where they…” He brought the two edges of the paper together. “…touch, like this, and that’s where the crossroad is.” 

“Are they stable?” 

“I wouldn’t use the word stable, but they stay in one spot for quite a while. The one I went through should still be there.” He gave Gale a smile. “You could join us, if you wanted.” 

Gale squinted at Falerin for a long moment, clearly weighing it. Finally, he shook his head. “Much as I would love the chance to see the Feywild myself, I don’t think now’s the right time for me. After all, there’s the issue of time and…” He trailed off, then looked to Falerin. “Time moves differently there, you’ve said.” 

Falerin grimaced. “It…does, yes.” 

Astarion looked up from his stitching, face serious. “How long were you away again?” he asked quietly.  

“I…I had guessed about ten years,” Falerin said slowly. “But it was a century here in Faerûn.” He shrugged. “But one year to a decade isn’t a hard and fast rule. It could be less time.” 

“Or more,” Astarion said. 

Falerin rubbed his face. “Or more, yes. But there’s…there’s no way to know. Sometimes it ends up like me. Others are there for centuries and it’s only been half an hour out here.” 

“And they crumble into dust the moment they cross the threshold back,” Gale said quietly. “I’ve heard those stories, too.” 

An uneasy silence grew around the table, only broken by Zel’s purring.  

“Well,” Astarion finally said, setting his cloth down. “I’d best get the current orders done quickly, shouldn’t I?” 

“We could find another option,” Falerin said quietly. “You’ve already lost so much time.” 

“Yes, well, so have you,” the vampire replied, sitting back in his seat. “But what’s the other option? Spending the next decade hoping that this is the lead that pays off?” He let out a long breath, head falling back. “I know you hate acknowledging it…” 

“Astarion, we have company,” Falerin said through his teeth. 

“It’s Gale. But we have a limited timeframe to work with. I don’t want to spend our time together just…hoping for a solution.” Astarion looked to Gale. “You’re doing the majority of research. What are our chances of finding a cure in the next ten years?” 

Gale’s eyes flicked between the two of them. “It’s…not good,” he finally said with a sigh. “Not unless one of you suddenly becomes one of Elminster’s rivals in terms of magical prowess.” 

“And do you think you can manage that, Falerin? I sure as shit cannot.” As Falerin shut his eyes with a long sigh, Astarion leaned forward, hand wrapping around his wrist. “It’s up to you, whether we go or not. But I don’t want to miss a chance for us to have a full life together. Not when we have it. I’d give up a hundred years in Faerûn for this, gladly, if it meant being at your side for however long I can.” 

Falerin stayed still, eyes still shut. Slowly, his free hand went to scratch Zel’s ears. 

“Gale, would you be able to watch Zel for us?” he asked quietly, opening his eyes. “However…however long we’re gone?” 

A pained sort of smile crossed Gale’s face. “Of course. Rest assured, she’ll be suitably spoiled in your absence.” He hesitated, then leaned forward. “And, when you do go, I’d love to be able to witness it. Not every day you get to see a fey crossroad in person, after all, and I don’t think I’ve had quite enough once-in-a-lifetime opportunities just yet.” He looked between the two of them and added, much more quietly, “And I’d like to see you both off.” 

Falerin gave him a small smile, then let out a long sigh. “This time, I want to prepare before we go. I went in blind last time, and we have the time to plan.” He looked to Astarion. “And I’m not letting you out of my sight.” 

 “Do you ever?” Astarion teased, picking up his work again. “Look at us, off on another big adventure.” 

~

The luxury of being able to plan a harrowing adventure at their leisure was really rather remarkable. No threats of ceremorphosis hanging over their heads meant they could actively set up how they wanted to go about this—and prepare for the chance that it may be a very long time before they returned.

Over the course of two weeks, their home was packed up, with instructions given to a neighbor to move their things out and sell it if they weren’t back in a year. Astarion blazed through orders, making sure to mention his poor sick aunt back in Baldur’s Gate when passing off the finished product. (Yes, yes, terribly sad—he’s her favorite nephew, so of course he’s going to be the one to take care of her. Oh, who knows how long he’ll be gone—it could be six weeks, it could be six years. But luckily, he knows an excellent tailor in the area who could take over while he’s gone, provided they come back to him when he’s back in town.) All that was left was for Gale to come pick up Zel, and it was off into the Feywild.

Falerin sighed as he dug out his armor from a purposefully forgotten trunk, making a face.

“Do you think we’ll need that?” Astarion asked, hand grazing his lower back as he passed to fetch a few stand-by potions for their journey.

“Better safe than sorry,” Falerin said, setting his armor aside to dig for Astarion’s. “I don’t know what we’re going to encounter while we’re out there. Have you still got your blade?”

“Naturally.” Astarion took his armor—drow-made, with dark, feather-like engravings on the chestpiece—and looked it over. “Good thing we didn’t sell these like you wanted to, darling.”

Fal let out a groan, gripping the scarlet leather jack in his hands. “I hate armor. And I hate that we’re going out into danger again. We just got comfortable.”

“You really shouldn’t lie, darling. You’re awful at it.” Astarion shot a knowing smile to Falerin. “I saw that brightness in your eyes when you were talking about the Feywild with Gale. You’re excited to go back.”

Falerin made a face, tossing the jack aside. “Excited isn’t the right word. It’s more like…” He looked up, thinking for a moment. “It’s beautiful there. It’s…painfully beautiful. And I’m glad to be back home, but…nothing compares to it, love. But even so, it’s…going back to somewhere familiar. I haven’t had that in a long time.” He looked over to Astarion. “Best I can describe it is that it’s like…” He puffed out a little laugh. “…it’s like bringing you back home for a visit. I get to show you where I spent…well, most of my life.” He set the jack aside before going to drop down on the bed. “It probably won’t even be that different, after only being gone for three years.”

 Astarion went to go sit beside him. “Bit like meeting the family, isn’t it?” he asked with a small smile. “Certainly can’t be worse than meeting mine was.”

“Well, I’m assuming my patron isn’t going to be trying to kill me to get unimaginable power,” Fal said dryly. He laid back on the bed, letting out a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“As much as I can be. I do feel a lot better going with you, even beyond the fact that you know what we’re getting into.” Astarion laid down beside him, also staring at the ceiling. “I hope we’re not gone too long, though. I’ve gotten fond of our little home, and I’m not keen to lose it.” He rolled onto his side, looking over Falerin. “You know, this may very well be the last night we have in this bed.”

“Don’t say that. I like our bed.”

“I do, too. We should make the most of it.”

“We won’t be able to sleep in. Gale’s going to be here just before twilight.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, then pushed himself up to straddle Falerin’s hips. “I’m propositioning you, you idiot.”

Falerin’s two-toned eyes went wide, and his lips parted in surprise even as his hands went to rest on Astarion’s thighs. “Oh.”

The vampire laughed, shaking his head as he started unlacing his shirt, only for Falerin to bat his hands away to take care of it himself. “You always look so shocked, darling.”

“Well, how can I not be?” Fal pushed himself up to sit as he pushed Astarion’s shirt off his shoulders, pressing soft, adoring kisses over the newly exposed skin. “I always feel so…unfairly lucky, getting to call you mine.” His lips dove down to Astarion’s throat, pressing hard against the hollow of it before working his way up. Teeth found his earlobe, and Astarion melted before turning his head to pull Falerin in for a deep kiss.

“Well,” he said, voice practically a purr as he drew back, “let’s hope that luck holds through our trip. And…” He plucked at Falerin’s shirt. “Let’s be free of this, hm, darling?”

Falerin grinned, pulling Astarion in for another kiss as the elf’s clever hands made quick work of his laces. His own hands traveled over Astarion’s back, tracing ever so gently over the scars etched in his skin–one of too many reminders of their lives before. His fingertips traveled further, tracing over the ridges of his spine before teasing beneath the waistband of his trousers.

“Cheeky as ever,” Astarion murmured, lips dragging down to Falerin’s jaw.

“That’s why you love me. Budge up so I can get these off.” He pushed Astarion’s trousers down, then set to wriggling out of his own. “Gods, remember doing this in the forest?”

“Are you trying to tell me you miss our romantic bed of sticks, leaves, and who knows what manner of insects?” Astarion snuck a kiss to Falerin’s temple, then leaned over to dig in the side table beside them. “If you want that again, go visit your druid. I enjoy creature comforts of a much less literal nature” He returned with a small vial of oil, pouring a bit into his palm before reaching for Falerin’s hand. His eyes flicked up, meeting Falerin’s gaze from under his eyelashes as he slicked up the half-drow’s fingers. “Help me?”

Fal let out a shuddering breath. “Always.” His eyes were riveted to Astarion’s face as he reached around him. His fingertips grazed over his skin as they found their mark, and he slowly pushed one into him. His breath caught as Astarion shuddered, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones.

“Fuck,” Astarion breathed. “Keep going.” He pushed forward, hungrily meeting Falerin’s mouth as the other man slowly pumped in and out, gently adding a second finger before starting to stretch him. Blunt teeth caught Fal’s lower lip, carefully tugging at it as he swallowed down a moan. Astarion nodded as he released him, tossing his curls back out of his face. “Yes, perfect. Perfect.”

Falerin’s mouth twitched, opting to slip in one more finger before pulling out. Astarion’s eyes widened, and a sharp groan was just barely muffled by clenched teeth. He panted, lips turning up. “You’re a bastard,” he said. “Gods, I love you.”

Falerin let out a breathy laugh, finally pulling out. His free hand went to Astarion’s cheek, eyes flicking over his face for a moment. “Bite me,” he said, voice low and rough. “Right as you’re about to come.”

Astarion’s brows drew together, and Falerin could see the struggle in his face before he shook his head. “You’re…you’re not…”

“I’m fine, and I want it. I miss it, Astarion. Please.”

Astarion swallowed, an argument starting to bubble up on his lips. But then Falerin’s hand snuck down to his cock before he could say a word, nearly making him yelp as he gave him a firm stroke. 

“Fuck, fine! Fine.” He pushed Falerin’s hand away. “Quit that or I’ll finish before I can.” He pushed himself up on his knees, reaching behind him for Falerin’s cock. His gaze ticked down as he managed to stroke it without so much as glancing back, lips curving smugly as Falerin’s head fell back. Unlike Astarion, he didn’t so much as try to hold back his moan, hands going to grip Astarion’s hips for dear life.

“You always make the most beautiful noises, you know that?” Astarion purred. “I’ve always liked that about you.” Slowly, teasingly, he sank down onto Falerin, tossing his head back with a luxurious groan as he took him. He took a few breaths as he pushed himself down flush against Fal’s hips, then reached forward to grip his shoulders as he rolled his hips. He dove down to meet Falerin’s lips as he began to ride in earnest, a full-body shudder coursing through him as Fal’s hand circled his cock, lazily moving in time with his hips. 

 There’s no lasting like this, that much was clear. Their kisses were all teeth and tongue, Astarion just barely able to keep his fangs from digging into Falerin’s skin too early. His hips quickened, and Falerin’s hand tightened, and they weren’t so much kissing anymore as they were sharing breaths, gasping in the other’s sighs.

As they reached a fever pitch, a familiar ache settled in Astarion’s jaw. It’d been so long since he’d tasted Falerin, and he’d never truly been able to get rid of that need, that desire to sink his teeth into his throat. For a flitting moment, he thought about being the bigger person and refusing. But he had permission, and gods, his mouth was already watering.

Falerin’s breath hitched–that was his tell. His hand tightened on Astarion’s cock, and there went the last of the vampire’s self control. A growl escaped him, deep in his throat, and his head dove to Falerin’s neck, teeth burying deep into his flesh.

Oh, this was heaven.

Again, he never had fully gotten rid of his craving for Fal’s blood, even as he’d exercised restraint. But now, as it flooded hot and thick over his tongue, it was all he could do to keep from draining him dry. 

The taste alone was enough to send white-hot pleasure through him, and he couldn’t even take a pull before falling over the edge, finish painting Falerin’s stomach as he groaned against his neck. Fal followed in short order, shuddering almost violently beneath him as he tumbled, but Astarion didn’t dare loosen his bite. Not yet. 

As they both came down, breathing hard, he finally took a drink. Just two swallows, mostly from muscle memory. But even so, gods. What a difference it made. He carefully dislodged his fangs, tongue dragging over the wound to catch every drop of blood. His head felt the clearest it had in ages, and like so many times before, he was happy. 

Well, happier. Wasn’t that nice?

Carefully, Astarion lifted his hips to gently let Falerin slide out of him, then he rolled off of him to  collapse onto the mattress, one arm splayed over the half-drow’s chest. After a few moments of catching his breath, Falerin rolled to pull Astarion flush against him, curling around his body and resting his lips against his hair.

“I love you,” he mumbled. 

“Surely not just because I let you come inside me?”

“Don’t you dare suggest that.”

Astarion let out a breathy laugh, then turned around to face Falerin, legs tangled and eyes bright as he cupped his face and leaned in for a kiss. He tasted of iron and salt, but Falerin didn’t complain in the least as he returned it. 

Sated in every which way, Astarion tucked himself up against Falerin, letting out a sigh as he started to slip into trance. Just as he was edging close, though, Falerin shifted.

“You can play the flute, can’t you, love?” he mumbled. It took Astarion a long moment to untangle that as not gibberish.

“Is that an innuendo?”

“No, I’m genuinely asking.”

Astarion made a face, shifting a bit. “I…can, yes.”

“Any reason you learned?”

Astarion blinked, and he shifted back to look at Falerin. “Is this the time to ask about my musical experience?”

Fal gave him a sleepy smile in reply, and he leaned in to kiss his nose. “It’s for tomorrow. I’ll explain later.”

Astarion let out a sigh, eyes rolling upward. “I…wanted to be a bard,” he muttered, almost too quickly to be heard. But Fal caught it, and his smile widened.

“Oh, that’s adorable.”

“Shut up. It was a ridiculous daydream from when I was very young. Now, why are you prying?”

Falerin shut his eyes. “We’ll have to get past the crossroad guardian, and the best way to do that is with music. I mean, or riddles if you have any.” He peeked his dark eye open, and Astarion shook his head. “Yeah, music’s the safer bet. But when we go, I want you to remember how you felt when you first decided to be a bard.”

“Why?”

“Because skill’s one thing, but heart’s more valuable to them.” Falerin leaned in to kiss him with that. “And I know you have more than enough of that to cross over, even if you don’t want anyone else to know.”

Astarion looked over him for a moment, then gave a sigh. “Then I’ll be sure to warm up before we go,” he said, then tucked himself up against Falerin again. “But in a bit. I want to enjoy our little death before we go off to what could be our big one.”

Falerin smiled, pulling the vampire into his arms. “And you won’t get a single argument from me.”

[Next Chapter]