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seenoversundown · 6 months ago

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For Death Or Glory : Chapter One

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious theme, Bickering, Brotherly Taunting, Uncomfortable situations, Yearning (oh the yearning) Smoking, Alcohol (it's a bar- feels self explanatory but just for safety) Shitty dad jokes, and silly goofy boy time!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Jake has spent most of his 20's single or just random dates here and there. Unfortunately for him, his brothers and their partners are all on board for trying to find him the love of his life.

Author's Note: hehe hi :) I couldn't resist any longer. I hope you love Jake as much as I do.

Beggars Song - Matt Maeson "Oh yeah, I'm a beat down, washed up, son of a bitch, I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent, but I'ma Be damned if I let it keep me down."

The soft ‘click’ of the door latching behind me as I sneak out of Willa and Quinn’s apartment. It stopped snowing a few hours ago, so the plows have had time to take care of the roads. Hopefully, they could get out of there quickly enough to make it home. I can’t be shocked that we all got roped into a slumber party, especially with Josh involved. I honestly didn’t even mind it; sometimes, spending time with everyone is nice, not in the bar. My heart was whole, watching everyone laugh and smile together.

Their apartment complex wasn’t too far from the bar, but I don’t trust the roads enough to drive the speed limit.

‘Oh, what a night,

Late December back in ‘63..’

“Oooh, this one hits,” I say as the song fills the car. Turning the volume, I tap along on my steering wheel. Taking my time, I can appreciate how the snow softly coats the trees, which kind of makes up for the lack of leaves. The sun feels extra bright today, bouncing off all the snow piles and practically making the ground light up.

‘What a lady, what a night.’

“Oh, I, I got a funny feeling when she walked in the room,” I quietly sing along. I’ve always been a little partial to the “oldies” as they say on the radio, but I grew up listening to all of it. Maybe I’m just a sucker for nostalgia.

Pulling into my usual spot, ‘Oh, what a night,’ I sit for a second, contemplating whether I should run upstairs real quick or go into the bar. I probably should at least change. I’ve been in these clothes for almost twenty-four hours.

As fast as I can, without busting my ass on the ice, I walk to the stairwell. It’s unfortunately not the most insulated, so I hustle upstairs; the first chilly days always catch you off guard. The warmth hits me when I get into the apartment, my body letting out one last shiver, shaking the chill from outside off.

After finding a clean button-up and switching into new pants, I feel like a new human. I take a few minutes to brush my teeth, spray myself with some cologne, and then make a cup of coffee. The warm drink on a cold day routine never misses. I scroll through my emails while waiting for my coffee to finish brewing before heading to the bar.

The brisk air has me running down the stairs, fumbling with my keys to unlock the back door to the bar. I quickly turn the keys, hearing the heavy ‘clunk’ of the deadbolt flipping over. I scoot myself inside, pulling the door shut behind me while letting out another shiver.

My body freezes when I hear sounds coming from the actual bar. Jesus Christ, NO. My heart rate spikes as I creep down the hallway, not wanting to give myself away. As if whoever or whatever is in here didn’t hear the door, you dumbass. I still can’t see out into the bar, but the faint sounds are becoming much less muffled as I get closer.

“Fuck, what do we do?”

“Just get dressed, baby. Go, go, go.”

Is that Danny? I take a few more steps before finally seeing his tall figure standing shirtless near one of the end booths. He’s clearly buttoning his pants when I see a pair of smaller arms reach out behind him. Oh my god, Melody. I watch as he fumbles around, trying to flip his shirt from inside out, when he turns around and locks eyes with me. I can see any ounce of life drain from his face from a mile away.

We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Still, it is realistically ten seconds before I spit out the only question I can manage to think of, “What the fuck is going on?”

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“Jake, really, I’m so sorry,” Dan is about to plead his case now.

Looking at him, I take a deep breath, knowing he genuinely feels terrible about this. “It’s fine,” I say, touching his arm.

“I will just take the day to really clean the bar, I suppose,” letting the smile sneak onto my face to ease the tension.

He lets a small laugh, “I’ll help since it’s my bad anyway.”

“Oh god,” I let slip. That was supposed to be an inside thought, but here we are.

“What?”

I silently point to the camera behind the bar. I won’t lie: Watching the emotions cycle through his face wasn’t a little funny. Melody looked wide-eyed as the realization hit her as well.

“Oh shit, oh my god,”

“You quite literally helped me install them,” I let out an uncomfortable laugh, “I don’t know how you forgot.”

He runs both hands over his face before finally asking, “Can we just.. delete that.. ALL of that..please?” His voice is coated in desperation as he keeps looking over at Melody.

“I’m certainly not going to watch it, Danny.” Relief washes over him as if he really thought I would watch that.

“Let’s agree to never bring this up.. again.. Ever?” I cock an eyebrow at him, taking a quick glance at Melody as well. She nods aggressively.

“What are we never bringing up?” Sam’s sing-songy tone radiates through the bar. God damn it.

Josh’s loud voice followed suit, “Oh, I love a good secret!” Of course, he came with Sam.

“That is between you guys and Danny,” I put my hands up, “I have cleaning I need to get done.” I look over to Dan, trying not to laugh. The look on his face is screaming that he knows he’s screwed now that Josh is here. Everybody is about to know his little secret.

“If you need to go for a little bit, do what you need to,” I lean in and whisper to Melody as I pass her. She gives me a thumbs-up and mouths, ‘Thank you,’ as I head down the hall.

“Goodmorning, brother,” Josh’s voice comes from behind me as I grab some cleaning supplies from our storage closet.

“I’m surprised you guys got here this early?”

When I left the apartment, I didn’t think anybody would be moving for quite a while. The few of us in the living room, all sleeping on the makeshift bed we crafted with extra blankets and pillows. Sam dipped at some point in the night to Willa’s bed, what a party pooper.

“I couldn’t fall back to sleep after you left, and I heard Sam moving around,” he tells me, “We figured you could use some help getting the bar situated after last night anyway.” Reaching out to take the broom and dustpan from me.

Surprised that they wanted to help, I quickly said, “Oh, well, thanks bub.” Not that they didn’t usually help out if I asked, but it was a bit more dependent on me asking, which I’m candidly not great at doing.

“So, what exactly needs to be cleaned?” Sam finally caves.

I smile at him, knowing what he’s trying to do, “Let’s just say we’re taking the opportunity to really make sure everything is clean.” Grabbing a rag and some disinfectant to start wiping everything down.

“Well,” he instigates further, “I just didn’t know if there was like a specific booth or something.” He unsuccessfully chokes back a laugh.

Josh quickly cut him off, “I’m sure he asked for specifics,”

I bite my tongue so as not to laugh at the argument that will start. If there’s anything I know, it’s that these two can’t help but start shit with each other.

“It was just a question, Josh.”

“You’re just picking at him for no reason. He said we’re cleaning everything, so just clean.”

“You know why we’re cleaning. That’s why you’re being defensive,” Sam says, his voice rising as he realizes.

Josh gasps dramatically, “You DO listen to your girlfriend. Oh my god, I’m so proud of you!”

“Oh, fuck off,”

Josh laughed loud: “It doesn’t take much to figure out what happened, Samuel. Just use that little brain of yours for a minute, and maybe you’ll piece it together.”

I sit in a booth to wipe the table down, just listening to them go back and forth. Josh isn’t wrong.. If he really did just stop to think about it, he would figure it out. Or, literally, just ask Danny. I never said he couldn��t ask him.

“I’m not that stupid, I know that-” Sam starts but immediately stops when he sees Danny walk back in.

“What are we yelling about?”

“The two of them are bickering about why we’re cleaning,” I say plainly, with my eyebrows raised and a tight-lipped smile.

His eyes widen, clearing his throat before saying, “Yeah, uh, people were a bit frantic last night trying to get out of here when the storm started, and we also didn’t want to get stuck too long, so we just.. didn’t have time to clean.” He couldn’t be worse at lying, but I think Sam will let it slide because of how uncomfortable he looks right now.

“Now, why couldn’t you just say that?” Sam turns, looking back over at Josh. Jesus Christ, here we go.

“Because that’s obviously not the reason, they clearly–”

“Good morning, Krusty Krew!” Quinn sings through the bar, thank god.

“Did we interrupt something?” Willa asks through a laugh.

“Yes, thank you,” I speak before the other two can.

It’s fun to watch as they both make their way over to their respective partners. Josh and Quinn always seem like they haven’t seen each other in years, even if it’s only been 20 minutes. The way they just curl into each other at any given moment. And then there’s Sam and Willa. Her laugh radiates through a room whenever Sam is around; they constantly pick on each other about something. He presses a kiss to the side of her head before she starts to walk away, but not before he swats at her ass, and she flips him off. She’s a saint for putting up with him.

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I listened to everyone’s chatter until Josh and Sam started bickering again. I motion to Danny to say that I’m going outside for a minute before grabbing a cigarette from my office. Walking out the back door in the crisp air, I pull out my lighter and try to beat the wind. That first inhale is always the most rewarding. I told myself when I left the shipyard that I would cut back; the guys I worked with were heavy smokers, and it’s easy to fall into that trap. Now, I settle for one a day, and honestly, some days, I don’t bother; I find that when I’m stressed, I tend to go for it, but I’ve stuck to my guns and not gone back to smoking aggressively.

I walk across the street, finding my usual spot to watch the boats slowly sail out to the ocean. I like to come here when I need a moment. I’m unsure why I’m feeling more anxious today than usual, but my chest feels heavy. Why do I feel so alone?

It’s not that I can’t be alone. I obviously have made it this long without someone; I have just spent the last two years watching everyone close to me find love. I never really feel lonely because they are all part of the family at this point, but I do have days where I can’t help but be almost..jealous. My mind keeps wandering as I take another drag. Is there something I’m doing that just makes me not worthy of dating? I’ve never understood why, out of all the dates I’ve been on in the last handful of years, none of them have worked out. God, I sound so pathetic.

I enjoy the last moments of my smoke break, forcing myself to focus on the boat coming into the dock. I can’t seem bothered when I go inside, or they’ll notice.

Finally, making my way back inside, I see Josh and Quinn in one booth and Sam with Willa in another. They don’t seem to notice that I’ve snuck back in, so I just spend some time cleaning up and organizing behind the bar while there’s nobody to actually tend to.

I start mindlessly wiping down the wine glasses, trying to make them as clean as possible. Josh and Quinn are in my line of sight; it’s hard not to notice how in love they are. Always sitting on the same side of any table, whether it’s a booth or a typical table setting, they’re attached at the hip. They’re always touching. Whether it’s just sitting close enough, one of them can move their leg closer, or right now, where Quinn is just tracing their finger along his jawline and down the bridge of his nose. They lean in, pressing a kiss to his nose before he tugs them in quickly for a real kiss. This is dreadful. I really can’t remember the last time I kissed someone. Am I that touch starved that I’m jealous of my brother? The squeak from the glass reminds me where I am. I shake my head, putting it back in its place and grabbing a new glass.

I glance over to the other booth; Willa has her head propped up in her hand as she looks at my brother. Even though they instigate each other most often, it’s always with love. She has a soft smile plastered on her face as she nods to whatever he’s saying. Running his hand down her forearm every so often, it’s weird seeing Sam so.. domestic? Willa really is perfect for him, though. I knew the moment she put him in his place while on a date with SOMEONE ELSE. How she looks at him like he’s the greatest thing ever created is incredibly sweet. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can see the way her eyes light up before she calls him ‘babe.’ I put the last glass back in place, tossing the towel under the bar.

I think I have scrubbed every inch of this bar today, I think to myself, leaning into my hand. The music is lower since there’s nobody here, and everybody is currently preoccupied. I let my mind wander for a minute.

The feeling of being so excited to see someone that your heart flutters. Being able to just hold someone close. God, getting to kiss them endlessly— nothing is better than that. Feeling them smile at you, ugh. Being so wrapped up in each other, pulling her into your lap so you can just have her as close as possible. Someone to call sweet things and have them call me ‘babe.’ Fuck me. I need a wife. Can I just skip to the being in love part? I don’t want to waste my time on girls who will just leave after a couple of months. I just want to fall helplessly in love and spend every day making sure they feel the same.

“Jake?” Sam loudly says, waving his hand in front of me.

My body jumps involuntarily, “For fucks sake.”

“Good daydream, huh?” Josh teases. I fight the warm feeling creeping into my face, rolling my eyes subtly.

“What do you guys want?”

“Will you make us drinks, please?” Josh asks, trying to recover from his taunting.

“Quinn and Willa too?” I double-check as I’m grabbing glasses. They both nod in sync.

I kept letting out little sighs, which, to be fair, I didn’t think were that obvious. Turning and setting one of the drinks in front of them, my eyebrows pulled together.

“Why do you look so angry?” Sam asks.

“I’m not?” I quip back. Unfortunately, it didn’t come out as convincing as I would have liked.

“I really think you just need to get laid or something, Jake,” Josh laughs out, “you need someone to take the edge off!” he laughs, nudging Sam with his elbow. You’re telling me.

“When do I have the time, Josh? Come on,” I can’t help the attitude that comes out, but given the day I’ve had so far— getting harassed for not getting laid is not helping.

“Honestly, you just seem tense lately,” Sam pipes up, “maybe if you actually flirted with one of the pretty girls who comes in, you could get off once in a while.” Josh barks out a laugh towards Sam, but I see Dan pointing in our direction as I listen to my personal peanut gallery giggle.

Rolling my eyes at them as they keep egging each other on, “Trust me, I’d love for my wife to walk through those doors, but I don’t see that happening.”

I turn to finish making drinks for the boys, trying to ignore them, squawking about my lack of sex life. As I set out a few glasses on the counter, I heard a lower, raspy female voice ring behind me, “Could I speak with Mr. Kiszka?”

I turn around to a petite redhead dressed very professionally. Her button-up was a pale yellow, tucked into some grayish-blue slacks. Her hair curled perfectly, and her dark red lips stood out against her pale complexion.

“Which one?” we all answer in unison.

She flips open her folder, looking at whatever papers are in there, and I can’t seem to look away from her. She’s … so hot?

“Um, Jacob Kiszka, I’m sorry.”

She looks up at me, making direct eye contact. Green. Her eyes are green.

I manage to muster up the ability to ask, “What do you need from me, dear?” Dear? Am I ninety? The sounds of my brother’s giggling prevented any level of silence between us.

“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you randomly, Mr. Kiszka,” she says confidently; her voice is so pretty.“Mr. Kiszka is our father. Please call me Jake,” I say, trying to lighten the mood as I extend my arm out to shake her hand across the bar. It feels like a small jolt to my heart as her hand firmly grabs mine, and she tells me, “Charlotte Rhodes.”

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Chapter Two

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | Prologue | FDOG Playlist

If you ask nicely, I may be so inclined to drop Chapter 2 sooner than next Thursday .. is all i'm going to say. 🤭

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fettuccinealfred0 · 9 months ago

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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

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 fanfiction #x reader #til death do us part

113 notes · View notes

mari-lair · 7 days ago

Note

Shit I might want to read this, it looks cute. What is this?

I am assuming you're talking about the manga with a cute art style, the one with this trio, which I love dearly

If so, I am very sorry Anon, my blog is misleading propaganda. None of these three are the protagonists, or even sidekicks to the protagonist, they are either stuck as a gag character for half of the manga, pushed to the side, given an antagonistic role/a role that have a diferent belief from the mcs, or all of the above simultaneously.

This is not their story.

They do eventually get focus, there is a reason I have grown attached to their arcs more than the protagonist's stories, but I am aware most people do not vibe with them. Many actually hate these three. They aren't the heart of this story. If you read this manga, rest assured it won't be for them.

So let me try to give you a more accurate idea of what the story is about without any major spoilers/details.

The manga is called "Toilet Bond Hanako-kun" which is a strange mainstream translation considering "suicide boy Hanako-kun" is the more accurate one. Very different vibes between those two translations, right? That's how the manga feels too, it is a mix of strange and goofy and 'oh, shit got dark'.

The story takes place in a fantasy world where supernaturals and ghosts exist and the trio in the spotlight are these three goofballs!

The red eyed girl is our main protagonist, Yashiro Nene, she is in love with the idea of love, a true hopeless romantic!

She attracts trouble and have a wild imagination, easily getting stuck inside her own fantasies as a form to both find strength and avoid tragedies. She is an insecure but very kind soul with a lot of hope in her heart, but she is not that smart. While she does have her moments, if you dig strategy stories and logical characters this story isn't for you, it's more about whimsy and vibes.

The boy with the cap is the main lead and our titular boy "Hanako." He is a ghost, more specifically a supernatural, which are ghost whose soul got corrupted for staying in our world instead of moving on once they died. He is also the main love interest. A mischievous morally grey spirit with no self-love, no hope, and a lovely mix of being apathetic and caring too much. He is dangerous, selfish, awkward, and possessive and he hates it.

The blond one is Minamoto Kou, an exorcist who never exorcised anything, he is a kind and insecure guy, not very smart logic-wise but his emotional intelligence is surprisingly good (bad habits aside). He is selfless to the point of concern, and starts out determined to be Hanako's eternal enemy but they become besties by accident. He is desperate to help, very determined, very impulsive, very easy to trust. Horrible at being an exorcist.

The friendship between these three is very sweet. You feel like it will be a generic love triangle on their intro but no, they all care about each other. Romance may be a big thing in this manga but this trio are besties.

The humor can be hit or miss, sometimes it's so silly or dry that I love it, but sometimes it's passes my bar and becomes overly exaggerated. Some of the gags just don't land (at least to me), and if you think about the story too much, is not hard to find inconsistencies, but the main sell of this manga is character comflict, which is usually real good, and the supernaturals elements/stories which are the main events of the manga. All the supernatural stories are amazing.

I don't want to spoil the powers and rumors and tragedies but here are some 'vibes' of the supernatural elements.

It is a rollercoaster of cool ideas and vibes and creative ways to explore the wishes and fears of the characters.

A lot changes through the story, this trio won't be the main dynamic forever but it is the heart at the start, and the supernatural stuff is strong during the entire manga! So if the pros sound better than the cons, go check it out!

You can read it: here

#i have so much self control i can't believe i actually stayed focused instead of going 'let me make it about my side trio anyways'#should i tag this?#no one in the tbhk tag need a tbhk resume/propaganda/idk how to call this

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laura1633 · 2 months ago

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I am clearing out some of the old wips I have and I came across this piece that I never fully developed but still thought I might share with you all. So here is some Omega Charles.

Warning for mention of alphas not being able to control themselves around omegas.

Charles always knew this conversation would have to come up sooner or later. He’s been avoiding heats with Max for six months now and the alpha has been surprisingly patient. More patient than any of Charles’ previous partners were but Charles guesses he owes Max an explanation.

“We don’t have to spend your heat together,” Max looks disappointed, “I just wanted to be able to look after you properly.”

“What if I said we couldn’t spend my heats together?” Charles starts cautiously despite being almost certain of how this will play out. There’s no way he can word this that is going to make Max happy.

“Never?” Max already sounds upset.

Charles’ feet bounce under the table. Max is his perfect alpha. He’s not ready to lose him. Except he knows he’s not like all the other omegas Max will have been with. He knows he can’t quite give Max the full omega experience.

“I just…I don’t like spending my heats with alphas.”

It’s a lie. Charles would very much like to spend his heat with an alpha. Just not sexually. He gets slicked up just like all the other omegas. His scent even turns sweeter. He just doesn’t get turned on. Quite the opposite. The idea of having sex during his heat makes him sick to his stomach to the point he’s hunched over a toilet and heaving.

He’s tried having alphas lie with him during heats before but - much like he was warned in biology class- they always want more than cuddles and it never ends well when he has to tell them to leave. They get incredibly selfish and aggressive. He doesn’t want to ever see Max that way.

“Maybe you’ve just never spent your heat with the right type of alpha before,” Max puffs his chest out and smiles, “I could change your mind.”

Charles smiles fondly. Fuck he’s going to miss this. Max is so goofy sometimes. Charles knows that he is in love with the alpha. So in love it makes him feel like his heart is beating at twice the speed of normal when they are around each other.

“I don’t think you could.” Charles sees the frown forming on Max’s face.

“So my ruts?”

“I can spend ruts with you,” Charles smiles. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy sex. He just doesn’t enjoy sex in heat. Which is so confusing and not at all normal and he wants to cry about it, “Just not heats, I am sorry.”

Max smiles but looks a little embarrassed, “I just thought maybe I could help.”

“I wish” Charles mumbles before he can stop himself.

“You wish?” Max’s eyes widen, “Do I not….. I mean am I not very good… in bed… I thought you liked it when..”

“No you are” Charles jumps in quickly before he gives Max the wrong impression, “God no, you are good. More than good - ”

“You always like my scent near you when you are in heat” Max says cautiously.

“Yes,” Charles wants to cry, this is all so difficult, “But just your scent not..…”

Max waits silently for Charles to finish his thought.

“Your knot” Charles finishes.

“Is it not big enough?” Max looks like he is trying to work things out in his head, “I can use my tongue and fingers and I can ..”

“I hate having sex in heat,” Charles finally blurts out, “The thought makes me want to be sick. I know that makes me weird. All I want in heat is your scent close by because it makes me feel better.”

Max purses his lips and takes a moment to process things, “So it’s not that you don’t want me there. You just don’t want me there for sex?”

“Kind of, but I know alphas can’t..” Charles trails off to a whisper, “Contain themselves.”

“I would never touch you if you didn’t want me to,” Max looks horrified at the thought, “But I could be there, no sex, just for whatever else you need. It’s my job to look after you, as your alpha.”

Your alpha.

Its the first time Charles has heard Max refer to himself as that and it gives him butterflies. But none of that matters because how can he ask Max to be with him, to be surrounded by sweetness and slick and not be able to do anything. Charles feels cruel thinking about it.

But Max is looking back at him so earnestly. Sweet sensitive Max who has been nothing but loving and kind towards him. Max who has been patient enough not to press the issue before. Max who has always scented and soothed him after sex.

Charles thinks, maybe, just maybe Max would be different to all the other alphas. Maybe Max would look after him like he needs.

#Lestappen fanfiction #Omega Charles #Alpha Max

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residentialsinyomakai · 4 months ago

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My Thoughts/Kind of a Summary on "Katie's Yokai Butler"

This will all be from memory, so I apologize if some things are off, out of order, or otherwise incorrect `~` Edit Yomo here! I watched it about halfway through this but i have an awful memory ahhh! Anyways, screenshots n stuff might be included now! This'll basically be somewhat of a summary as well as a few observations I've made. Also, I'll be using the English names for characters! Keita is Nate, Fumi-chan is Katie, Warunyan is Baddinyan, so on so forth—☆

[SPOILERS AHEAD OBVIIIII]

The alternative timeline in summary is basically if Katie had gotten the yokai watch instead of Nate. It's first (and last) anime mention to my knowledge is in the Season One episode "Katie's Yokai Butler" if my memory served correctly! The episode follows Whisper through his 'dream' in what is presumed to be a look into the alternate Whisper's life. After a little argument with Nate about his messy room, Whisp cream goes to bed upset. He first wakes up to the smell of roses, and quickly realizes he isn't where he should be. (Probably bc Nate's room smells like cheeto puffs/j) He looks around to find himself in Katie's room. ( ＞Д＜；)

This brings us to the first major difference in this timeline; it takes place in Katie's house obviously! Makes sense since she got the watch instead of Nate >u○ Her room is a lot cleaner, and even appears to be more spacious than her male counterpart. That aside, Katie comes upstairs at some point to wake Whisper, to which he responds with confusion as to where he is and how she can see her. To this universe's Katie, she thinks he's acting strange. She pinches him upon request to make sure he's not dreaming, to which he didn't wake up. That confirms that!

(*￣∇￣)ノ

After a bit, Katie returns back downstairs when she hears her father calling her. This leads Whisper to wonder about another difference; the inclusion of Baddinyan. Besides the obvious fact of it not being Jibanyan, this also means Katie is probably going to interact with other yokai in a rather different manner than Nate! I say that because Nate met Roughraff in Season 1, Episode 3. He didn't even get Baddinyan's medal! (which sucks because that's one of my favorite yokai! Goofy little cat,,, °□°)

Baddinyan's first appearance in the episode 💞🐛👾

If we're talking on all timeline differences—not just the ones in Katie's house—then the meeting with Roughraff might be a good point to bring up. Considering the fusion was involuntary in Nate's timeline, what happened in Katie's? Did they decide to stay fused after that for whatever reason, did Katie fuse them at a place like shonen temple (which doesn't exist in the anime I think >~>), or did something happen pre-canon for them to have became friends and fuse? Sometimes, a fusion can be in the same place as the yokai that fused them in the anime due to certain yokai like Baddinyan forming a separate consciousness from either original host ( 〃=▽=〃) (I probably sound like a huge dweeb rn </33) Maybe Katie said something to the newly existent Baddinyan to make him give her the medal, and thus hanging around her from now on!

After some vague threats at fighting Whisper from Baddinyan, the yokai butler in question wonders about who replaced Hidabat in the closet. He goes to open it leading us into our next difference; Shadow Venoct. There isn't much from me to say about this one to be honest, he doesn't have any lines except for maybe the hissing of his snake-scarf thingies hissing at Whisper (¤o¤|||. I've noticed that a lot of Katie's friends seem to be more powerful, or at least a higher rank than Nate's. [Ex: Shadow Venoct being S Rank, Baddinyan being B Rank, and another S Rank we'll get into later—!♡]

Sometime after that, Katie calls Whisper down to help her investigate the strange way her mother was acting. Whisper attempts to use the Yokai Pad to identify the yokai...although Katie swipes it away just as quickly. <°[O□o;]°> She says that Whisper (or this timeline's original version of...) promised to try and memorize the information instead. It seems un-Whisper like, but to be fair, alternate Whisper probably formed a different dynamic than the usual! She identifies the yokai with the watch, to which Whisper (discreetly uses the pad and) figures out it's Noway!

To deal with him, Katie said that she'd summon a special rare friend. This turns out to be Robonyan's timeline counterpart; Goldenyan! Upon asking the golden robot cat for help, he says that this was 'beneath' his capabilities and basically that his power shouldn't be wasted on it...; ￣Д￣ Anyways, he leaves to the future and the episode ends with Katie using Whisper as a special attack against Noway, much to his dismay >u<. Oh, and it's revealed here that Whisper was dreaming.

Although it may have been a "dream", I'm 99% sure that was a plot device to not have to script in 'Whisper going to another universe!!' to the episode and how he eventually gets back. I personally believe it would be cool to see a spin-off dedicated to something like this! There's Nyanderful Days I guesssss but that doesn't really count cuz it just has Whisper and Jibanyan and it's just inserting Katie into the og series plot (￢_￢) There's a lot of potential, and I'm sure viewers over here in the west and Japan would be happy to see our girl the the spotlight for once wwwwww. Maybe it'd also be an opportunity to have McKraken put into the anime? Hint hint? That, as well as several yokai who might not have been seen by Nate due to him going different places as Katie, hanging out with different people, etc! Anyways, that's all for now!

#This was FUN TO WRITEEEE #edited a few things but ykyk ajbsofke #I'm a little scares to post this because I don't wanna get made fun of #If I'm scared to post this imagine how i feel about the mckrsken and babbling ones since those include #My personal interpretations and headcanons....#Anyways. I love these forever I LOVE YOKAI WATCH!!!#BTW. Pspspsp. If you're reading this and have drawing suggestions throw me an ask. I always need yokai watch stuff to draw #□ yolo watch 2!#●posts from yomakai #yokai watch #katie forester #whisper #nate adams #jibanyan #baddinyan #♤ resident rambles

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sonicfanthenightfury5099 · 1 year ago

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Werewolf! Michael myers RZ Halloween NSFW Alphabet

Note: I wanted to do an NSFW Alphabet for the Werewolf Tall Mickey for a while now. This gif is giving me them Tall Myers vibes.

18+ Minors DNI

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex?)

Panting like crazy, he's been through so much fucking he's panting like a dog who ran a long way. He starts to clean himself like a dog licking your juices off his balls, which leads him to clean your back, which you don't mind. He then asks if you want food, which you replied with a yes to that. Eating in bed with making sure you're doing well after the fucking he did to your body, He'll lift you up to take a hot shower before bed.

B = Bodypart (Their Favorite Bodypart of their body and also their Partner's)

The giant is a Werewolf. His arms had a lot of strength to them to decapitated a victim, and the jaws he has, he would be breaking bones and crushing wind pipes with his large fangs.

You and your small frame to him perfect to him. He loves your soft lips that are so comfortable against his. He melts when you try to reach his face to cress it

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He has a breeding kink, and he's staying in deep till he fills you up real good.

D =Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to see you in loose lingerie, which he will try carefully to take it off in a creative way every time. A way of teasing you till be gets down to the night of breeding sex

E = Experience (How experienced are they?)

He had none if you lived in a Sanatorium for 15 years, and you mostly did art in your room. You can only imagine it was when he got out he had seen Victims doing it, especially in his old abandoned house. He may have seen some videos online when you were at work.

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Missionary, easy position to learn, and to see your face scrunched up in the amount of pleasure you're in. Cowgirl, you can ride and bounce on top while he watches you ride on his beast and play with yourself. Doggie Style, do I have to say why he loves this position? He'll put you into this position for a little rough fucking from behind. Mating Press, his breeding kink kicks in when he's ready to release his load into your warm womb. He'll stay in that position as a plug to keep his semen inside you.

G = Goofy (Are they more Serious in the moment, or are they humorous, ect?)

This time means I want to make you feel amazing in the moment, so he doesn't want the mode spoiled by something goofy during the act he'll become grouchy which will take forever to get him back in the mood.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the Carpet match the Drapes, ect?)

On top he has lovely long locks, he had grown out when he was in Smith's Grove with some stuble on his face, down below, it's a little forest, but a quick trim down there it looks better. When he goes wolf, looking a bit like an Old English SheepDog due to his long hair, and his abdomen is completely covered by his long wolf hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect..)

He's definitely wanting to give you a lot of kisses while praising your body during what he calls sometimes, "Breeding time," which is every time when you both have sex. Having him holding you in his arm in between rounds, he's careful not to be laying his whole body on you. Definitely saying sweet nothings in your ears during the round.

J = Jack/Jill off (Masturbation headcannon)

He doesn't do it often, but if that urge creeps on him, he's going to take care of it. He can turn you on by how he would show how he strokes, starts at the base of his shaft stopping halfway, then strokes fast at his tip. Making a wet sound from it, he will do that when he fingers you.

K = Kinks (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding, praising of any kind, Cockwarming, and size differents kink

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do )

This man wants to rut in the bedroom cause it's more comfortable for sexy time.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

A touched starving man gets turned on by suggested touches on his body. He would be thinking about you with a heavy pregnant belly with swollen breasts for you and his pups that makes him go into breeding mode.

N = No (Something that they wouldn't do, turns offs)

Definitely, no mentioning Smith's Grove or Sister

Won't turn you into a Werewolf if you ask him. He loves you this way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills ect)

Definitely giving you some oral, eating you out like a straving beast. Michael definitely enjoys a good oral treatment on his disco stick (He'll pound you real good as a Thank you.)

69 is his favorite. He's eating you out while you're giving him head.

P = Pace (Are they Fast and Rough? Slow and Sensual? Ect.)

Does start slow before picking up the pace and going to pound town. He doesn't want to go too rough on you, but he can't help it. He loves you so much. He'll go soft the next round

Q = Quickies (Their opinions on Quickies rather than proper sex, how often, ect)

Depending on how he feels, he would not be interested one day. The next, he's got you bending over the couch or counter and give you one. He'll be giving you more when he is done hunting.

R = Risks (Are they game to experiment, do they take any risks, ect

Out of curiosity or just getting horny when out in the woods, he would want to go down on you in the woods. Like a wolf in the wild, he will do the dirty with you on a blanket (so your back isn't pricked by branches just so you're comfortable while in pleasure Town) He might want to fuck you when he's in his Werewolf forme, his huge dick on you looks like it can't fit in and would tear your holes into one big hole (and a trip to the ER)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

Will go all night if he's back home early or he's having a day off, around 10 or 12 rounds, depending on how much energy he has that day. Morning sex is a big Yes for him.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You probably have a vibrator you have in your dresser that you would use before you met Michael. You take it out to use it when he's not home and needy of him. He finds it useless cause why would you use it if he can give you endless hours of pleasure from him.

U = Unfair (how much do they like to tease)

His form of teasing is showing you is the for mentioned of stroking his cock, and fingering while stroking his tip making a luded sound from it. Cockwarming is another form of teasing from him he'll be in you for a while till he's ready.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make?)

Loud Panting, grunts, and moans in his gruff voice, Hella hot.

W = Wildcard (Random Head cannons)

When you first met, Michael wasn't comfortable with you on seeing his face. He would wear his wore out mask or his Jack o lantern one. When is he ready for you to see his face he'll let you do the honor of taking off his mask.

Michael would, on occasion, pick wild flowers when he's out for you. He would come home with a big boutique of wild flowers he found in the woods.

He would make you a mask as another form of his love for you.

Michael may not look like it, but he deep down he wants to hear the sounds of little feet on the floor one day. He would wonder when the day will come you tell him that you want a baby.

X = X-ray (What's going on in their pants?)

Human: A good size, 7 inches with good girth

Werewolf: Hidden underneath his shaggy fur is a near 10 inches cock with big girth and knot (he won't put all of it in but started half before going in fully when you get used to his size)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive depends on his mood. He would be cranky one day the next day he's horny and uses his look when he wants to rut.

Z = Zzzz.. (..how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

After a shower and some leftovers, you cuddle up with your man clean clothes and dried you'll drift off to sleep. He'll follow suit when you're asleep and you're doing good after the pounding you got from him.

#michaelmyers #halloweenmovie #werewolf #robzombieshalloween #michael myers x reader

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sharpth1ng · 6 months ago

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Do you have any tips for writing? Or you just go with the flow and hope for the best

I do have tips yeah, but keep in mind this is just how it works for me, there are probably lots of different approaches that are equally good.

My writing is pretty character driven so that drives a lot of my process.

When I'm writing I want to have a sense of how a character experiences the world, so I ask myself questions like this:

-Are they more cerebral, in their head? Or are they more sensory -How much tolerance do they have for bad things and feelings? -How do they react when something good happens? -Do they celebrate their wins or react with anxiety because winning adds pressure? -Are they embarrassed by compliments or do they take them well? If they're embarrassed do they get flustered or gruff? -Do their outward reactions match the way they feel inside? -Do they lie well? If they do is there anything they can't lie about? -What do they need to feel secure? -What calms them down? -What are their coping mechanisms? Make sure there are some bad ones (I mean that, imo a good character needs real flaws) -Do they speak directly about their feelings or do they talk around things

There's a lot more questions like that that you can ask yourself, and know the answers to those things makes it a lot easier to figure out how they would react to whatever you want to throw at them in the plot. Sometimes a character is going to be resistant to something you want to do and it's worth it to take the time (both IRL and in the plot) to figure out what that character needs to get them to a place where they're ready to react the way you need for the plot point.

Dialogue and Language

Another big thing for me is dialogue, as well as the language you use in general for describing things from a character's perspective. I'm not exactly sure out to describe this exactly, but I'll give an example. Stu uses a lot more casual and shortened language than Billy ('cause, gonna, sayin', ect.), and he's a lot more willing to use goofy slang than Billy is (dope, rad, the bomb).

Both of them use some movie language but Billy uses more- referring to his life plans and experiences as "the plot", referring to his field of view as "the shot", stuff like that.

Billy on the other hand uses slightly more formal, occasionally more dramatic language. He's less likely to use shortened words if he's not actively having sex, and when he swears he's more likely to say fuck than shit. He also refers to a lot more using critical language. Things are stupid, dumb, asinine, ect.

for both of them though I generally try to stick to more common language. Theres lots of fun words in the thesaurus, but if they don't sound like something a 19/20 year old dude would say I'm not going to try to find something else.

Plot

There are different kind of arcs to consider when you're figuring out pacing. For me I try to make sure chapters have an arc- I try to introduce an issue in the start, the characters navigate that through the chapter, and the tension rises toward the end until it comes to a head somehow. In my writing thats often a sex scene or a fight (or both).

I also try to consider the overarching plot. where do I want my characters to end up by the end of the story and what needs to happen to get them there? I don't like introducing plot elements out of nowhere, so I often try to mention things at least in an offhand way before they become important to the plot.

Practically the way I approach this is to figure out plot milestones. as an example for Debaser we start with a choking encounter that results in both of them having a sexual experience. That leads to an exploration of more power/painplay under the guise that it's not sexual, until they get to the point of having to admit that it sexual.

At that point its a slippery slope, especially after Maureens murder, which is a bonding experience. It sort of continues on that way, but they're all steps that move Billy into a place where he's more willing to let himself do what he actually wants.

I'm sure there's more I could say but this is the most useful advice I can think of right now. Basically know your characters! Know more about them than you think you'll need to to write the story, because you'll be shocked how much of it you can use to fill in blanks in a way that feels genuine.

I hope that helps!

#just sharp things #writing tips #debaser fanfic #ask

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formula-fun · 2 months ago

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Hi I reread the old “I need to multiply” snippet and the new one! And while I was rereading, I saw that they have cats now!!

Would you be interested in writing how they adopted the cats and of course want to know about laying eggs too hahhahhhhdjjjshah

Hi!! Yess they eventually do get cats, probably at some point after max has recovered from the accident in Shanghai!! Max has to figure out how to make Charles not allergic to cats anymore but once he has that done max steals them from a breeder in Monaco. And then is forced to put them back where he found them so that Charles can contact the breeder and adopt them the correct way

Charles doesn’t really fully get why Max likes them so much, and Max doesn’t fully get it either beyond that they’re soft and they’re warm and they make Charles happy, and also they’re perfectly designed apex predators

(unlike humans, which have long goofy limbs and stupid curvy spines and value things like kindness and generosity and empathy so much that it’s a wonder they’ve lasted this long at all)

(Charles doesn’t point out all the counterpoints that rumble through Max’s subconscious like cannon fire one after the other: his limbs which are so lovely and so linear and so graceful, and his spine which curves so nicely when Max touches him just right, and his kindness and empathy that made him latch onto a creature like max and care for him regardless of what exactly he was, simply because he recognized something in Max that he decided was worth caring for.)

And Charles takes one look at Max’s little round face and long fangs, and another at Sassy’s scrunched eyes and long white teeth, and he remembers something he read once about how cats think humans are just stupid, larger cats, and all of a sudden it makes a LOT of sense

Max likes cats because they’re liquid and stretchy and they like to kill things for fun, and they don’t even eat their prey every time—sometimes they’re even more vicious than Max is. They have big long teeth and eyes that turn to slits sometimes, and when they’re happy they make unearthly rumbling sounds, and when they sleep they like to sleep curled up around their big dumb Large Cat and keep him warm and safe because they love him. Max loves cats because they’re just like him, and he’s stolen adopted two of them because he wants to be part of a family with Charles

So the cats do become like their kids in a way

As for the egg thing uhhh let’s say Charles is a curious man with a dick and a hand and a laptop, and he has been on the wrong side of the internet enough times for all of the worst information to stick to his subconscious and rot there until max pokes around and finds it. The egg thing was slightly closer to the surface unfortunately for him because as soon as max mentioned having a mating season charles was like 😵‍💫 you will fuck me for days?? You will lay eggs in me??? I will be fucked out in the bathtub covered in goo delirious while you fill me up over and over and pin me down and praise me for taking it so well and being so warm and soft and so good for you until all I can think of is how good it feels for you to just use me over and over and— and max is like uhhhh. What

And it kind of feels like a fireworks show in his brain every time max even mentions the word egg after that for about a month straight because Charles is HORRIFIED by the idea!! Absolutely horrified!! But it also makes his stomach swoop and his abs clench up and his heart do really alarming things, and the pleasure of the physical reaction of it wars so strongly with the overwhelming embarrassment that it’s really just a lot to take in. Max is getting better at wearing down his knee jerk reaction of shame to things like this, but every once in a while Charles manages to surprise him with something new, and it’s delicious every single time

So he has to tease him about it for days on end and work him up and wear him down until eventually one day he’s fucking him on the floor of the bedroom with his chest to the rug and his hips in the air, and then pauses just to tug at his rim a few times and tell him this is exactly how he would breed him, chest down and ass up, and this is how it would feel as max filled him up over and over and helped him take it even as Charles said it was too much, because it’s never too much, not really, is it? And Charles starts crying with his next breath and starts begging for it the one after that and goes limp and spreads his legs even further apart like he’s trying to prove exactly how good and eager and perfect he could be for it, and. Well

So yeah. Max doesn’t lay eggs and certainly doesn’t need to lay them into someone else, but it leads to some fascinating conversations and role play scenarios

#venom au #not safe for work tag #I’m writing a long answer as an apology for disappearing for a few days!! I’m traveling!! so sorry

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minheelovelee · 6 months ago

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hi! ♡ i really love your nsfw a-z’s! do you think you could do one for ej? much love <3

that’s crazy anon bc i was just thinking about writing this. it’s been 6 months i hope you still want to see it. WHOOPS.

ej nsfw a-z

nsfw under the cut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- ej is a great dom. he’s so sweet after sex. he’s filled with so much pride after any session, and he makes sure that his partner knows it. he’ll get lotion, run a bath, wipe you down, and get a movie ready.🥹

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- he likes legs. long legs are a weakness of his. especially when they’re thrown up on his shoulders and he can leave kisses on your calf.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- he loves coming inside. it’s his guilty pleasure. he’ll go non-verbal before he comes bc he’s fighting demons in his brain telling him to use you as a cum dump.

- sometimes he likes to wear a condom and pretend to cum inside for the fantasy :)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- he fucks in the dorm all the time. no one knows. everyone assumes he gets no action. he just smiles when they tease him. he’s an expert at making you shut up. he thinks his members might explode when they find out the nasty things he does behind closed doors.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- he’s not experienced. there might have been a handjob and a makeout session, but nothing else. he’s a very quick learner, which makes me think he learns about your body and reactions super fast.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- he’s a missionary fan. if you’re serving face, he wants to see it. he also likes having your legs up while on your back. it’s some of his favorite shit.

- he likes reverse cowgirl a lot, too. watching you struggle and reading your emotions without seeing your face is fun for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- i like to push the ej soft dom agenda. he knows when he can and can’t mess around. he likes to tease and make little comments, but overall, he’s serious during sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- he definitely shaves something. he keeps it in control, but doesn’t care to go bald.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- unmatched rizz. seriously he will be the most romantic guy you’ve ever screwed. he like to whisper little blurbs about your future while roughing you up. talking about how he’s gonna make you a mommy and he can’t wait to take you on every surface when you move in together.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- nothing out of the ordinary. when he has needs, he’ll take time to jerk off. otherwise he doesn’t care to. he’d rather take a cold shower.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- his breeding kink is crazy. it was a joke at first. then it was just in the shower. now he likes to cum inside and make you hang out with his friends, stuffed full.

- also his oppa kink??? he’s kind of a pervert. <3

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- the bedroom. being alone is preferred. he also likes shower sex, so he doesn’t mind the bathroom.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- thinking about your future makes him horny. he feels so bad but he can’t help it. he wants to touch your heart with his dick <3

- boobs and exposed legs get him going, too. he just likes them. a lot.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- he was scrolling through youtube shorts (🙄) and saw a video on sounding. he searched it up without a private browser and was so scared. not sexy for euijoo.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- he prefers to receive. putting your head in his lap is dangerous bc it will end in him fucking your mouth.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- he keeps an overall slow pace. but things are usually quite intense. he might not fuck fast, but he fucks hard and accurately.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- he’s not gonna suggest them. sex is more of a romantic act for him. if you try to have a quickie with him, you need to free your schedule for the next two hours.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- honestly, yeah. he teases a lot, but sometimes your words get to him. if you ask daddy to choke you, he’ll laugh in your face, then choke you. he also is open to car sex. it never ends up being quick though, so he likes to park in the middle of nowhere. :)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- he can do quality work for a few hours, then he’s beat. usually he can only come once, but if he’s particularly pent up, he’ll come twice. three rounds is his max.

- he builds up the intensity and saves his energy until he really needs it. he’s so smart.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- he owns a vibrator or two to use in his girl. he’s a big fan of locking your arms and legs back, and making u come over and over on the vibe. :)

- he didn’t buy one until he started having sex. he didn’t realize people just bought sex toys. sex and all of its’ quirks felt like a secret society. he probably owns a vibrating cock ring or something, too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- he’s such a tease. it’s unexpected, but he gets in a headspace when he fucks. subspace is a thing, but domspace is, too. he gets so happy when he sees his partner blushing or crying because of him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- he’s not that loud and he doesn’t make a lot of sounds, but he likes to talk. juju is 100% that type to talk you through it when he’s rearranging your insides.

- the sluttiest thing a man can say is “oh, yeah?”. he’s constantly making remarks like that.

- “is that so?” “you like that?” “feels good?” “that wet?”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- his rizz is unbeatable. when he sets his eyes on a goal, he meets it. his dirty talk game is unmatched as well.

- “fuck, i love that dress. i cant wait to see it on the floor.”

- “take another one for juju. then you can be done, love.”

- “the mouth is heaven.”

- “i just needed it so bad, darling. thank you.”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- ‘tis not the sword, but the knight who wields it.

- average in all forms. but he learns how to utilize his strengths so quickly. he’s like 🤓 a little sex scholar.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- not high. he’ll be okay with wee(e)kly sex. whatever his baby wants.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward.)

- he likes to stay up. it’s another domspace thing. he can’t sleep until he knows everything is cool and you’re safe. seriously he’s just a really good soft dom and he’s grown on me a lot.

- i like u euijoo.

#mhll &team #mhll ej #&team smut

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1p2p-heta-suggestives · 1 year ago

Note

Can I get 1p Canada for the NSFW alphabet please?

Read more is here for now so people don’t accidentally read this kind of content without wanting to

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

• He is the absolute sweetest when it comes to aftercare. He’ll run them a bath, make sure they drink sometimes, compliment and praise them, he’s always the nicest person with aftercare.

B - Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

• He likes his legs, he’s pretty toned underneath all the baggy clothes since he plays ice hockey which you (apparently, don’t quote me) need strong legs for and he’s proud of himself for it

• He’s a thigh man, he sees it as: the bigger thighs, the better

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

• Again with the thighs, he absolutely loves cumming on them especially if they give high a thigh job, it’s his favourite

D - Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

• Will keep people’s clothes if they leave it and go home, he has a small collection of random things from people he’s slept with that they never came back to collect

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

• He experienced enough that he knows what he’s doing, he always makes sure to know what the other person wants beforehand though

F - Favorite position (This goes without saying)

• Mating press, he likes having some underneath him like that

G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.)

• Not really humorous or serious, he’s very relaxed about everything and hopes it calms any nerves that they may have

H - Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

• He’s pretty well groomed, he trims whenever needs be, it’s the same colour as his hair

I - Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

• He’s usually quite intimate with people, he wants to make them feel good and loved so he makes an effort to be romantic

J - Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

• Whenever he’s hard, doesn’t really have a timeline, it’s not all that often though

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

• Role Play

• Hair Pulling

• Creampies

L - Location (Favorite places to do the do)

• He doesn’t really mind if it’s his room or theirs, it’s mostly wherever they’re most comfortable that he cares about

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

• Any kind of neck kisses, he’s absolutely weak for them

N - No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

• Not into cuffs, they just end up making his wrists ache and he can’t focus of anything but that so he’s not a fan of them

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• Prefers to give, he’s an absolute service top, and he’s very skilled

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

• He defaults to something slow but rough, is always happy to change it up if they ask him to

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

• He’s indifferent, he doesn’t like or dislike them, he won’t complain about one

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)

• He can usually tell if he’ll like something at the start of it so it really is based off of that first mention of it

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

• 4 or 5 rounds and then he’s out, he’s usually very overstimulated by that point anyway

T - Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

• He has one or two toys, not many, they’re for himself. If the other person wants to use them then he’d get them their own.

U - Unfair (How much they like to tease)

• Not much of a teaser

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

• He’s not that loud, the occasional moan and heavy breathing is the most

W - Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

• Has to use stimulants sometimes because antidepressants make it difficult for him to stay hard, he’s not really embarrassed by it

X - X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

• A little bigger than average, around 6 inches, quite thick.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

• It’s higher than most countries, he’s pretty unashamed about it

Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

• Only falls asleep if he has nothing else to do, usually he lets the other person rest while he does something like making a meal or cleaning

#Hetalia Smut #1p #Hetalia #1p Hetalia #Hws Canada #1p Canada #1ptalia #1p Headcanons #Hetalia Headcanons #1p Hetalia Headcanons #1ptalia Headcanons #Nsfvv Alphabet

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justsomekpopstuff · 10 months ago

Text

ateez as male musical characters (according to me)

A/N: Please remember that this is my opinion, so please be nice. Also I promise that I AM working on Stray Kids as D&D Characters its just taking me a while. Enjoy!

current masterlist | fic recs

Seonghwa: Baron Von Trapp, The Sound of Music

Hear me out - He's poised, organized, clean, and well-put together at all times. However, he secretly does have quite the interesting, fun-loving side. He prefers organization, but is also full of love and creativity that isn't always apparent to everyone. He is strong in his ideals and values, with a soft side for those he loves.

Hongjoong: Orpheus, Hadestown

He is focused and creative, but often times gets too immersed in his work. He gets so immersed to the point where he will forget to care for himself and those around him. However, that doesn't mean he does not love them - in fact, he cares incredibly deeply for those he loves. He will do anything to make sure that they are okay and that they get back on track, even though there may be doubt setting in.

Yunho: Jack Kelly, Newsies

He's a little flirtatious, a little goofy, and also willing to do anything to protect those around him and keep them safe. He really is a leader in his own right even if not many always see it. He really loves pushing people’s buttons if given any space and opportunity, but he also loves pushing for change and making things better for those around him.

Yeosang: Seymour, Little Shop of Horrors

Bless him, he's so quiet and sweet. He really cares deeply for those around him even often at his own expense. He can often be too nice for his own good sometimes but it is so hard to not love him. Yeosang, I feel, makes sure the people around him feel the love at all times, even if his methods are unconventional.

San: Christian, Moulin Rouge

San really loves so deeply with all of his heart. He feels like a hopeless romantic that will love who he does until even after they have gone away, and even more after that. He is a loyal and dedicated lover and friend to those he holds dear. He would also sing instead of talk at all times if given the chance, and would feel heartbreak on an intense level that not many can comprehend.

Mingi: Roger, Rent

He feels so many emotions all the time and uses music as an outlet when words otherwise. He wants to leave a legacy to the world but feels overwhelmed with the pressure to make it perfect. He loves too much and it kind of scares him sometimes. He also tends to doubt his success despite having the people around him giving him support. He is also a certified Rock Star/Emo King™️

Wooyoung: Fiyero, Wicked

We all know he's a little sassy, flirty, and a bit of a shit-stirrer sometimes. But, when he sets his mind to what he cares about, he will do anything and everything possible to achieve his goals. When he loves someone, he loves them with his whole heart and will happily sacrifice himself for them at any cost - a love that is truly hard to ignore and hard to come by.

Jongho: J.D., Heathers

Again, hear me out - He regularly has a lot of things going on in his head, so much that he often can't say. He often takes things into his own hands, which can be a bit intense even to him. He comes off composed and deep, but internally may be a chaotic mess sometimes. He is also spooked by affection from others, and it takes him a while to show his true colors (for Jongho irl, his true colors are beautiful, unlike J.D. who is...not that - that's a difference).

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez headcanons #my musings #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #choi san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho

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seenoversundown · 4 months ago

Text

Amongst The Stars: Chapter Three

Josh x Quinn (Nonbinary OC)

Warnings: Misgendering of a nonbinary character, Men (that’s it. That’s the warning), Wallet chains, Jake being Sweet. Word Count: 4.1k Summary: Josh has always loved love, and he's finally found it. Buuuut, he can't exactly tell anyone. Join him as he navigates the ins and outs of his sweet, secret romance. Author's Note: We are officially on our regularly scheduled programming. Every monday, babies. I hope you all enjoy this one and the little dual POV action. I just had to get quinn back in there for a little bit at the end :)

Can't Take My Eyes off You - Frankie Valli “Pardon the way that I stare There's nothin' else to compare The sight of you leaves me weak There are no words left to speak”

I can’t stop thinking about Quinn after they leave. Every little thing I do draws my mind back to them. I know it’s wrong, and I shouldn’t be, but I am jealous of their partner. God, Josh, you sound insane. Pining for a person you’ve met one time, being jealous of their partner. Their partner doesn’t respect them, so their partner doesn’t factor in. Sometimes, I wish brains functioned like an etch-a-sketch because I try shaking my head to clear those thoughts, but it doesn’t quite work, and I end up with a minor headache. Oh well. I walk back up to the front of the store, disinterested in actually working now that my day has been positively derailed by a lovely and mysterious person in a pair of beat-up Doc Martens.

I stand by the front registers, waiting to greet customers as they walk in. Hobby Lobby has never been my favorite place to work, but it really isn't so bad when you're a manager and can choose to fuck off on the clock if you want to.Which I do. I want to fuck off on the clock badly. I look down at my watch, noting that I only have 20 minutes until I can clock out for the day. There's no sense in starting a new task, I smile to myself. I'm pleased I've managed to time my “greeting responsibilities” so well with the end of my shift. I stand around for a minute, bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet, and I let my mind drift back to Quinn. Their lips looked so plush and biteable. It should be illegal that they nibbled their lips in front of me while I didn't have the option to offer my assistance.

I ponder their lips for another moment before my mind slips back to their concerning comment. “He’d done a lot worse for less…” My eyebrows furrow as I try to imagine a situation in which I would be anything short of sweet and kind to Quinn.

I meander out of the first set of sliding doors and step into the area where only the ugliest furniture goes to die. Goin’ to the Hobby Lobby lobby, I sing to myself as I take stock of the atrocious seasonal items that no customer would ever think to purchase. That's a lie; old women exist. I walk the area and make a mental note to bring the feather duster out tomorrow to tackle the growing piles of dust that inhabit the, reasonably, rejected items. I run my finger along the gilded frame of one of the paintings that’s propped up atop one of the fucking ugliest baby pink chalk-painted tables I've ever seen. Of course, it's chalk paint, I shudder. My thoughts return to the painting; it’s massive, at least two and a half feet long—a highland cow with fluffy hair covering its eyes and an inexplicable crown of leaves resting upon its stupid little horns.

“Oh, Bessie,” I whisper, pulling my finger back from the frame and examining the dust that came with it. “They could never make me hate you. I may hate everything in this sad room, but never you.” I decide to check the markdown schedule tomorrow because, as much as I love this goofy little cow, I will never take her home at full price. I do have some standards.

As I'm about to turn around and head back into the store proper, I hear the entrance door slide open as a man about my age, give or take, walks through.

“Oh! Hey, man. Welcome to Hobby Lobby,” I greet him. “Lookin' for a dude named Josh.” Me? I take a second to look him over. Curly, blonde hair that sits a bit too close to his eyes. Nondescript black tee with baggy jeans. A wallet chain attached to his belt loop. A fucking wallet chain. What year is this? Well-worn Adidas sneakers. He seems safe enough. A bit worse for wear, but he doesn't seem scary.

“Ah, yep,” I stick my hand out, offering it in greeting, “that’d be me!” He looks at my outstretched hand and scoffs. Okayyyyyyy, maybe I misjudged. “I just wanted to talk with you, man to man.” “About…” “About you flirting with my girlfriend,” he cocks an eyebrow. “Not sure what you mean, champ,” I let out an awkward chuckle.“Don’t pull that shit with me, man.” “I’m afraid I really don't know what you're talking about. I haven't said more than ‘hi, welcome to Hobby Lobby’ to a girl in weeks.” “So, you're gonna act like you have no idea who Quinn is?” I narrow my eyes, putting two and two together. This is Quinn’s shithead partner. “I don't think they’d appreciate you calling them your girlf—” “I don't exactly care what she’d appreciate right now,” he cuts me off, “I'm here to talk to you.”

Oh, so he reallyyyyyyyy doesn't respect them. Noted.

“Yeah, so,” I roll my eyes, “you can talk at me, but you're not talking to me until you show some respect.” I watch his face contort in confusion, quickly morphing into anger. “Why should I respect you?” He spits out quickly. “Are you delusional? Just stupid?” I can't help but laugh at the look on his face “I’m not asking you to respect me,” I continue, “I'm asking you to respect your partner. It’s ridiculous that you're in here, trying to talk to me ‘man to man’ while you're misgendering them.” I watch as realization dawns on his face. “Come on, you know I didn't mean that.” “I’m assuming you’ve been with them long enough to know better,” I watch his eyes slowly shift away from mine, “not that length of time has anything to do with respect.”

His eyes fall to the floor, properly chastised.

“I—” “For what it’s worth,” I cut him off, “from the few minutes that I talked to Quinn today, in a purely professional capacity, I think they deserve better than whatever it is you have to offer.” “Hey—” “AND, don't forget that they’ll realize that one day. And when they do, someone will be waiting to treat them better.”

I check my watch. Time to gooooooo!

“Anyway,” I pause, narrowing my eyes at him in a silent gesture to get his name. “Craig.” “Anyway, Greg, my shift is over. I don't intend to mention this to Quinn the next time I see them, and I’d suggest you don't either.”

I turn on my heel and book it to the break room, practically sprinting by the time I make it to the double doors. I push through, throw my smock on one of the hooks above the time clock, and punch out. Finally, finally, I sit on the worn-out leather couch across from the lockers and let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in.

“What the FUUUUUUUUUUCK,” I lean my head back and groan.

I didn't have “getting accosted by a fucking freak” on today’s bingo card, but I suppose I'll have to tick it off regardless. Who does he think he is? Who do I think I am? I don't talk to people like that. I pull out my phone and send a text to Jake, chuckling at his nickname in my phone. I'm five minutes older, and I will never let him live it down.

Me: I think I messed up Kiddo: Elaborate on that? Me: No

I slide my phone into my pocket and stand up from the couch, shaking some of the nervous energy from my limbs. I’ll explain everything to Jake when I get home; I just need him to know I may be in a mood.

I let out a long sigh and slowly made my way out to the front of the store, praying to whatever gods existed that Craig would be gone by the time I got there. I thank all my lucky stars as I walk out of the first set of sliding doors and find myself alone. I glance once more at my girl Bessie, then head out to the parking lot. I glance in every which direction, ensuring that Craig isn’t hiding anywhere, waiting to pop out and murder me. Perhaps I am being dramatic, but my gut tells me you cannot trust someone who wears a wallet chain unironically. And I always follow my gut.

I make it to my Jeep truck and sigh as I plant myself in the driver's seat, connecting my phone to Bluetooth and clicking into my Apple Music Discover Station. Occasionally, I find something new that I enjoy. The opening notes of a pop song filter over the speakers as I back out of my parking spot and pull through the parking lot. Sam would hate this; I’ll have to add it to the bar playlist.

I bob my head to the music, driving down the road back to my apartment “I’m your dream come true when it's on a platter for you…” For some reason that brings Quinn to the forefront of my mind, I can’t help but think about what a piece of shit Craig was to me today. I hope he’s better to them, but something tells me he isn’t. The things they said about him today…My stomach clenches thinking about it. Someone like Quinn deserves the world, and Craig is obviously not giving it to them. I could. Okay, no, that’s crazy.

I sigh, pulling up to the stop sign next to the bar that Jake owns. We’ve lived in the apartment above it for years, but the prior owner finally decided to sell it, and Jake took him up on the offer. Jake got a job down at the docks when we were freshly graduated from high school; he decided he didn’t care about college and just wanted to set himself up with a good job that would pay him enough to put money back in savings and have a little spending money on top, and in Portland… That’s the docks. Not that he ever needed spending money; he didn’t (and still doesn’t) ever do anything for himself. He’s always been too busy taking care of everyone else. I can’t even remember the last time he took a nice girl out for dinner.

I pull into the back side of the parking lot and slam my car into park, practically jerking my key out of the ignition and running through the backdoor of the bar, ready to see my twin after the horrendously long day I’ve had.

“Uh, hey, bub,” Jake greets me from behind the bar with a confused wave. “Hey, kiddo,” I sigh, sitting at the bar top, “can I get a salty dog?”“Sure thing, gin or vodka?” I raise an eyebrow at him, signaling he doesn't need to be in customer mode with me. “Surprise me.”

I watch as he takes a bottle of Tanqueray gin from the top shelf, pours a measure of it into his cocktail shaker, and then adds grapefruit juice, lime juice, and ice. He shakes it, then strains it into a highball glass rimmed with salt and slides it over to me.

I take a sip, and, of course, it's delicious. Jake indeed found his calling here — no one on this earth can make a cocktail like he can.

“Perfect as always, Jake.” “I don't make them any other way,” he starts, “now, wanna tell me about how you ‘think you messed up?’” I slam back the rest of my drink and shake my glass, asking for another. “Slow down, you're gonna drink me out of house and home,” Jake scolds, but prepares another one, nonetheless. “I need a little help loosening my lips.” “Get real, you've never had an issue talking in your life. If anything, you're too good at it.” I roll my eyes but secretly know he’s correct. I'm a known yapper. “I resent that, you know.” “And I don't care, stop changing the subject.” “Fine,” I huff, “I got into a fight with a customer today.” “Physical or…” “Verbal, obviously. Do I look like a scrapper?” He chuckles, wiping non-existent dust off of the spotless bar top.

“Anyway, some crazy dude wearing a wallet chain, of all things, came in and yelled at me for hitting on his partner.” “What?” “Yes, Jake. A wallet chain. In 2024. I was baffled, too.” “No! Not that, you weirdo. He yelled at you for what?!” “Oh, he thought I was hitting on his partner.” “Well, were you?” I sit and think for a moment. I wasn't not flirting with them, but it wasn't my initial intent. “Maybe a little,” I sigh, “I didn't realize they were in a relationship. And I do have eyes. They were too cute. I had to try and shoot my shot or whatever the kids say.” “You’d ‘shoot your shot’ with a wall. I’m honestly shocked this is the first time this has happened.” “I resent that, too.” “Add it to the list.” “Anyway, I think the guy was just insecure. But I may have been rude to him.” Jake slowly blinks at me. “You were rude?” “I know,” I laugh, “he just brought it out in me.” “How rude were you?” “Well, I jumped his ass for misgendering his partner.” “That's not exactly rude,” Jake jumps in, “it’s quite the opposite, I'd say.” “I’m sure he didn't feel that way.” “Why do you care? You did what was right; plus, it’s not like you'll ever see this dude again. Hell, you probably won't even see his partner again. No harm, no foul.” My stomach flips at the thought of not seeing Quinn again. We don't have time to unpack that.

“Yeah, you're probably right. I’ll never see either of them again and, as of right now, he hasn't reported me to corporate. So, no need to stress.” “Exactly right, bub.”

I finish up my drink and set the glass down.

“Thank you, Jake.” “You don't have to thank me, I’ll always be on your side.”

I reach out and pat his arm.

“Also,” Jake starts, “I don't know the situation, but it’s pretty serious if you actually act rude to someone else. So, don't discount those feelings.” What is he saying? I fix him with a confused look. “I don't understand.” “Look, Josh,” he sighs like he’s preparing to explain physics to a five-year-old, “I’m not telling you to get in the way of their relationship. But, if the opportunity to explore this arises, don't let that opportunity go to waste. It’s no small thing that you felt connected enough to this person to do what you did today.”

“You know, I did tell the guy today that if he doesn't treat them right, someone else will be there waiting. Maybe I’m that someone.” “You could be, if that's what you wanted.”

I simply hum a response. Jake has given me too much to think about.

“I appreciate you lending me an ear, brother,” I shove my stool back from the bar and stand, “but I have chores to take care of upstairs. Text me if you need a hand down here.” “Will do.”

I open the door to the apartment that Jake and I share above the bar. Home sweet home, finally. I kick my shoes off and walk into the living room, planting myself on the couch, thinking about Quinn the whole time. Something about them piqued my interest. I can't help but feel that if we’d met at a different point in time, we’d be together right now. That's ridiculous. You've spoken to them for a total of 3 minutes.

It is true that I've only spoken to them for a few moments, but I noticed them the first time they ever came in while I was working. I've watched them from afar, hoping to find a way to actually converse with them. I was shocked when they found a way to converse with me first. Jake may joke about how I’d hit on anyone, but that's not true. I’m nice to everyone, and I'm flirty with a lot of them. But Quinn is different. And it's unbelievable that I feel that way. I don't wink at every single person I see, nor do I tell them how important their work is. I certainly don't get into verbal altercations defending other people. Verbal altercations are reserved for when someone is talking shit about my family. So, what makes Quinn different? I keep replaying our interaction in my mind. I got butterflies when they complimented my tattoo. I was practically shaking when they pulled me in for a hug. I was angry on their behalf when they insinuated that they don't have people who support them.

What. Makes. Quinn. Different.

I never act this way about strangers, but it's as if their soul called out to mine, and mine answered. It's the only way I can explain the way I handled Craig. I called him GREG just to piss him off. I never do shit like that. But he was an absolute chode. He kind of deserved it. I can internally debate whether he sucks or not all night, but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t speak like that to people, and if Quinn, sweet, curious Quinn, weren’t involved, I likely wouldn’t have spoken to him that way either. Regardless, I really need to find a way to get closer to Quinn. Good job; that sounds so creepy. What I mean is that I feel a soul-deep need to know this person. I don’t know in what capacity because it seems as though I’m entering their life a little late for it to be romantic. Which is what I want. But I could be just in time for friendship. I’ll take it if they truly want to extend the offer, but only time will tell.

When Craig makes it back home, shopping bags in tow, Willa and I are roughly two and a half sheets to the wind.

“Well, well, well,” Willa points an accusatory finger at him as he walks through the door, “The prodigal Greg returns.” I can’t help but snicker, knowing how much it pisses him off when: 1) Willa is here without warning 2) Someone calls him by the wrong name.

“Hey, Willa,” He plastered on a pained smile. Willa turns to look at me, shock written on her face. That may be the nicest he’s been to Willa in months. Craig walks into the kitchen and places his bags on the counter.

“Didn’t realize you were going to be here,” He half shouts from the other room, “But you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you want.” “Does he even know how to cook?!” She whispers. “He knows how to heat food up,” I shrug. “I’m making Eggplant Parm.” My eyes light up. It’s my favorite meal. “Maybe this is his way of apologizing,” I whisper to Willa. She rolls her eyes but cuts me a devious look. “That sounds great, Craig. I’d love to stay if you’ll have me.”

“You girls just stay in there, and I’ll have it out in a jiffy.” “Jiffy?” Willa mouths, fighting back a laugh. “Girls?” I mouth back, shaking my head, and Willa’s face instantly sours. She knows that Craig has a hard time with my pronouns and prefers to ignore my identity. This is a regular point of contention in my relationship with Craig and, by extension, my relationship with Willa. I don’t understand why he does it, and she doesn’t understand why I let him get away with it. I don’t understand why I let him get away with it. He is quite literally just a man.

Willa and I fall into silence for a moment before she grabs my hand and stage whispers just loud enough that Craig may hear. “I bet Stock Boy wouldn’t misgender you.” I hear a small crash from the kitchen, and I clap one of my hands over her mouth. “Stop!!”

I feel her tongue dart out and lick between my fingers, and I let out a squeal. I pull my hand back from her mouth and wipe it on her shirt. “You are an absolute monster. I’m not sure why I allow you to call yourself my friend.” “Oh, Quincy,” she lets out a cackle, “You wouldn’t know what to do without me.”

I roll my eyes, but it’s true. She is the only thing that has kept me sane since we moved to Maine. She’s my rock. Kind of sad that your own partner isn’t your rock, Quinn. Willa picks up our empty wine glasses from the coffee table and shoots me a wink before heading into the kitchen. Surely, this will be fine. Willa trapping Craig in a room could not possibly cause anything terrible to occur.

I can hear their muffled voices just enough to make out their conversation. ‘So, Craig. What did you get up to after Gamestop?’ I wince, waiting for his response to that emphasis. Willa has always been phenomenal at telling him that she knows precisely when he’s messed something up. ‘Oh, uh. I just stopped by the grocery. Wanted to make it up to Quinn.’ Interesting. ‘You were gone an awful long time to have just stopped at the grocery.’ ‘Mmm, yeah, well. I had to figure out what to make and how to make it. I’m not exactly a chef over here.’ ‘That’s an understatement,’ I wince again. What is she playing at? This situation is already precarious. ‘But, I suppose you get half of a point for trying. We’ll see.’

Willa walks back into the living room with two more glasses of wine for us.

“He’s–” She starts at full volume before I shush her, connecting my phone to the Bluetooth speaker in the corner. Once the music starts playing at an acceptable volume to cover our conversation, I motion for her to continue. “He’s lying. I can smell it on him. He didn’t just nip over to Hannaford and come home.” “I mean, obviously. He was gone for like three hours.” “You don’t care that he’s literally lying to your face.” “Technically,” I poke her side, “he lied to your face. And no, not really. If he came home and decided to be sweet for once, I’m not gonna question what it took to get him there.” “Quinn,” She says softly, reaching a hand out to pat my leg. “I know, Wills. But, just let me have this for the moment.”

She hums a non-response and drops the conversation.

I should have questions. I should care. But, if he’s going to be sweet, I’ll take it where I can get it because these moments are becoming fewer and further between.

“Dinner’s done,” Craig pops his head into the living room, “Y’all’s plates are already on the table.” Willa and I scramble to the kitchen table. “Thanks, babe.” I kiss Craig's cheek before sitting down. “It looks great.” “Anything for you, babe,” He beams.

I see Willa’s lips quirk up in a slight grin and brace myself for whatever she’s about to do.

“So, Quincy. I’ve got a photography project I’m working on, but I need some supplies. Wanna come to Hobby Lobby with me tomorrow?” I let out a massive sigh as the color drains from Craig’s face, and I begin mentally preparing myself to do damage control, but Craig impresses me. “That would be nice, Quinn. Y’all can get out of the house for a little bit. I’ll stay behind to clean up around here.”

Willa sits in shock, clearly not expecting that response.

“Oh, and Willa,” Craig smiles at her, “If you want to stay over tonight, I’ll take the couch. Don’t want you to drive home after you’ve had all that wine.”

Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf.

Even if Craig has decided to be a bit nicer after his moment earlier; I still can’t help the little shock of excitement that rushes through me at the thought of being able to see Josh again so soon. I’m not sure what it is about him, but I want to learn more about him. He’s the most compelling person I’ve met in a long time, and perhaps he feels the same about me.

I’m excited to see if our friendship may blossom.

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