#he adores her succulents

[hedgehog-moss]

Look, friends.

Do you think this is a post about my adorable baby succulents? No. Look harder.

It's about the GIANT HOLE IN MY FENCE that I had to patch up with cardboard.

I can't blame Pampérigouste for this one; the brutish nature of the damage is not consistent with her usual modus operandi. Pampe outsmarts locks like Arsène Lupin; she doesn't charge at fences like a bull who saw a red cloth. This is Pampe Pondering A Fence Problem:

No, the damage to my fence looked a lot more mindless this time. Boorish. Boar-ish. I'm blaming a boar. A deer would have destroyed the whole thing rather than just the lower half. Note that there is not a single tuft of llama wool on the damaged wire mesh.

(Note no.2: the boar's smile was originally meant to be a tusk but it really just looks like a sardonic smile)

I brought some chicken wire to patch up the hole—but there wasn't enough of it. Then it started raining and I felt persecuted and decided to just cover the hole with cardboard and go have my morning coffee and get back to this later.

This is not an Innocent Pampe post; there is no such thing. My temporary cardboard solution lasted 8 to 10 minutes. I'm not sure exactly when she got out, but by the time I went back outside to repair the fence there was a Pampe-shaped hole in the cardboard.

(Not really; she just kind of lifted or ate a corner then wormed her way through the very small opening. I think.) (See, this is how you recognise a Pampe escape: you're not entirely clear on what went down, you just know there was a llama inside and now there is a llama outside.)

It was still raining and I didn't feel like going after her, plus it felt pointless to bring her back in her pasture before the fence was repaired, so I went in the barn to look for my tools and rummage through leftover pieces of previously-destroyed fences, hoping to find something the right size.

Then I heard Pampelune's hyena shriek, aka the llama alarm call. It was followed by:

horrified chicken screams and frantic feather noises; the soundtrack of a violent fox attack

infuriated barking from Pandolf

very loud panicked braying from Pirlouit

basically, chaos.

I ran outside just in time to see Pampe emerging from the woods at a full gallop, pursued by a bear. I didn't immediately identify the animal that was chasing her as the giant dog that he was, because he was running with a weird gait, with his legs going everywhere like he was frolicking at top speed (I now know that this dog is a puppy that has learnt to run just a few months ago, but that didn't occur to me at the time because this puppy is the size of a calf.)

Pampe was running towards the cardboard through which she had escaped and she managed to squeeze through her small corner hole again (I assume—there were trees blocking my line of sight and I only saw her again once she was in the pasture, running for her life along with the other 2 llamas + donkey.) Meanwhile, the dog didn't see the corner hole and tried to power through the cardboard much like a boar, or was carried away by his momentum and didn't brake in time; I don't know. In any case, when I reached him, he was stuck.

My large piece of cardboard was tied to the fence posts and still holding strong, but the middle was a bit soggy with rain and not too solid, so the dog's head went right through it. The rest of his body didn't.

He could have probably finished breaking the cardboard quite easily, but for some reason he instantly gave up. On life. By the time I got there the dog was half-in and half-out of the pasture and he looked defeated. Which made my piece of cardboard look like a mediaeval beheading apparatus with just a hole for the head.

I went to lock an angry Pandolf in the barn and checked on the chickens along the way (ruffled & offended but fine); I was hoping the dog would figure out how to extricate his head from the cardboard in the meantime. He did not. I tried to call him in a friendly tone (from behind) to encourage him to free his head by stepping back, but the concept of taking a couple of steps backwards in order to extract his head from the hole might as well have been advanced engineering. He clearly had no idea where his head was, where his body was, how to make the two a coherent whole again, and he started whining pitifully.

I untied the rope I had used to attach the cardboard to the fence posts, then wriggled the piece of cardboard a bit to try and free the dog's head. The dog was alarmed by the wriggling and took several steps back—but I didn't manage to hold on to the cardboard so it just moved with the dog. He clumsily ran away, taking the cardboard with him, wearing it around his neck like the world's largest cone of shame.

He immediately got stuck between two trees.

I was starting to find the situation hilarious, but the poor dog did not—he lay down and started making sad broken noises like a malfunctioning dog-robot. He didn't look very threatening but he was still a very big (and stressed) dog so I felt a bit wary of touching his head to help him, and decided to run home to get a box cutter. I figured I could easily rid him of most of the cardboard and leave him with just a soggy cardboard collar that would soon fall apart. I heard my landline phone ringing from afar and ran faster, and it was one of my nearest neighbours, the retired lady who lives on the plateau.

"I've been trying to reach you!! I saw your llama in my garden earlier, I was going to give her a little treat—" (she loves Pampe, for some reason) "—but then my dog saw her too."

I know this woman's dog—he's a tiny thing with fragile nerves who thinks the whole world is out to get him, so I asked anxiously, "Did Pampe scare your dog?" and she said "Oh no! Domino is here with me; but I have a new dog. His name is Texas."

I thought of the gigantic puppy currently sobbing in my woods, held prisoner by two trees, a self-inflicted cone of shame and his total lack of reasoning skills.

"Yes", I said. "I've met Texas."

The old lady asked worriedly if he'd scared Pampe ("Il est un peu zinzin" she said—he's a bit crazy. "I wanted to call him Rex, but then I met him and thought—Texas!!") I told her I was pleased with her dog for scaring Pampe, because she needs to learn that her pasture is her only hope for safety in this cold uncaring world and as soon as she steps out of it she returns to her lowly status as a prey animal. Then I ended the phone call because I was worried both about Texas and about the large hole in my fence. Thankfully all my animals were still terrified and hiding far, far away from Texas.

Texas actually managed to free himself before I attempted to cut the cardboard, but he still thought of me as his saviour and was very happy to follow me through the woods back to his owner's place. Before we left I propped up the cardboard against the damaged fence, and despite the hole in the middle no llamas escaped in my absence; I think the whole area still smelled like Texas and fear.

I'll admit I was initially tempted to leave Texas with his head stuck in the cardboard in a more permanent capacity in order to patch the hole in my fence with this amazing anti-Pampe Cerberus. Like this

(I know this artistic rendering makes my llamas look like frightened carrots and my donkey like a bunny but I will not be taking constructive criticism at this time)

#crawling along #llama drama #i spent an hour at his owner's place eating biscuits and being told all the reasons why texas is ''a bit zinzin'' #for example he runs away to the nearest farm to steal the cow feed (pellets) at feeding time #he was caught red-pawed by the farmer and just. stole the entire plastic tub that contained the pellets #and ran back home. holding this very large tub in his mouth and sprinkling cow feed everywhere along the way #this time around his owner must have feared he would come home dragging a bag with pampe inside or something

[spicycinnabun]

“Steve, something is wrong with Christofern!” Eddie entered Steve’s room, cradling the potted plant in his arms.

He’d come home after work, ready to greet his bud-dy, but one look at him had made Eddie gasp. His leaves were shriveled up like sad little green raisins. Usually, they were puffed up like oversized Rice Krispies.

Christofern had been Robin’s, originally. It had been in a very sorry state on her windowsill before she’d left for college—a lot worse than it looked now, under Eddie’s care, thank you—and she’d told him, “I honestly can’t stand the thing. You keep it. It sheds worse than my aunt’s Great Pyrenees, and I’m tired of vacuuming. Just don’t throw it out, or Steve might murder you.”

And that had been that.

Christofern didn’t look like a typical house plant. He wasn’t a fern, which Steve kept reminding him. Steve was more practical. He didn’t give his plants names but called them by their designated labels.

Christofern was a Donkey’s Tail, or sedum morganianum, part of the succulent family. That term meant absolutely nothing to Eddie unless it was referring to a big bowl of pasta—he had no idea there was a whole plant category called delicious.

“But maybe he wants to be a fern, Steven,” he’d argued. “Ever thought of that? He doesn’t have to be a succulent just because he was assigned so at birth.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had been Steve’s reply.

At first, Eddie had enlisted Steve’s help purely because he’d wanted his attention, and talking about plants was an easy as hell way to get Steve’s attention. Steve was a very passionate plant dad. But later, Eddie grew to love Christofern, and the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for him were almost like raising his own child.

Christofern had not just one but seven long, thickly spiked green tails. Seven tails. He reminded Eddie of a mutated dragon. He was adorable but occasionally grumpy and high-maintenance, like a certain someone Eddie knew. (Perhaps Christofern was more of a prince than a dragon—a dragon prince?)

If he didn’t get enough sunlight, his leaves shed, and he wilted. If he wasn’t rotated daily, he got yellow and sunburnt. And if he didn’t get enough water…

“I swear I watered him... uh, recently.” When had Eddie last watered him? Not the day before, but maybe Wednesday? Or had it been Tuesday? Shit. Eddie pouted. “I just gave him a drink now, anyway. It’s not too late, is it, Doctor Steve?”

He clasped his hands and watched Steve’s attentive eyes rove over his plant, waiting for the diagnosis.

“Eddie, how could you neglect Christofern like this? I should call Plant Protective Services.” Steve grabbed his hand, startling Eddie and his overactive heartbeat.

He took Eddie’s index finger and pushed it into Christofern’s soil right down to his second knuckle. It felt inappropriate. Eddie made a noise, appalled. “Steven, why are you making me violate Christofern?”

Steve ignored him. “What do you feel? The soil is soaked down there, isn’t it?”

Eddie wiggled his finger. It felt goopy. “Yes,” he admitted.

“You’ve overwatered it,” Steve chastised. “Now, the leaves might rot instead of rehydrating themselves. You’ve got to make sure you don’t drown it. Christofern only needs a moderate amount of water every two weeks, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said meekly. “I’m sorry, Christofern.”

Steve pulled his finger out of the soil and gave him a look bordering on amusement. “Leave him with me for a few days, and I’ll get him back to where he should be.”

“Thank you, Doctor Steve. How can I ever repay you?” Eddie imagined repaying Steve with his mouth, his tongue, his hands (after he washed the soil off)…

“You can clean the bathroom,” Steve said.

Eddie’s fantasy shattered. He whined. “Does it have to be that?”

“Yup.”

“Damn it, Steve, just make me suck your dick next time,” Eddie grumbled on his way out.

He missed the way Steve’s jaw dropped.

#fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie au #roommate au #steddie fic #plant dad steve harrington #crack fic #christofern is their love fern #eddie won’t let it die #🪴

[msbigredmachine]

Say Cheese - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

A steamy after-work rendezvous with the Tribal Chief and his princess is captured in 4K.

PAIRING: Tribal Chief!Roman Reigns x OC

Warning: SMUT

Word count: 4.9k 

Song Muse: "Sativa" by Jhene Aiko and Rae Sremmurd

————————

The audible smacking of lips and sliding of tongues was the seductive tune serenading the lovers, seemingly drowning out the actual song blaring from the speakers of the hotel suite. It started out with soft, gentle pecks, but ever so greedy, he’d taken it up a notch, kissing her more hungrily at the same time he lifted her up onto the kitchenette’s counter. That lethal tongue of his consumed the insides of her mouth, earning his deep chuckle at her needy moan as her legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close. 

“We are so bad, we should be at the party,” she giggled against his succulent lips, sneaking her hands behind the nape of his neck to tug his ponytail loose. “People are gonna notice we’re not there. ‘Specially you, Mr. Tribal Chief.”

He pulled away long enough to huff, “Well, that's on you. You’re the one who kept rubbin’ on my dick the entire ride back here, making me so hard everyone woulda seen it.” Picking up the half-drunk bottle of Cristal next to her, he took a large gulp before handing it to her. “Gon’ be boring as shit anyway. Fuck the party,” he added.

“Nah, I’d rather fuck you,” she stated, making her intentions clear, loving the way his eyes blazed at her bold statement. 

“That’s my girl.” He showed his appreciation by tongue-kissing her slowly, coaxing her to follow his lead and match his energy. She wasn’t inexperienced at all, but each time they kissed, she felt like a virgin being taught for the very first time. Emboldened by the alcohol in her system and the passionate moment, her hips rocked back and forth, grinding against his prominent erection pressing between her parted thighs that his big hands caressed so lavishly, all while their mouths sought the depths of each other’s sensual taste. 

It took Cleo Parker-Jones just three months after her main roster call-up to get Roman Reigns in her bed. It probably would have been quicker if it wasn’t for his part-time schedule and her focusing on proving herself on the blue brand. Whenever he did show up to work, they did not get too many moments alone. But each time they did, they made the absolute most of it. Flirty banter. Suggestive winks. Subtle caresses as they grew closer. Soon, she was sneaking into his locker room or his bus for intense make-out sessions that left them both breathless and hungry for more. The sparks flew between them and it was only a matter of when and not if they would seal the deal.

Of course they did, and it was glorious. The man was blessed by the dick fairy and he backed it up with incredible, toe-curling bedroom skills that challenged even her own renowned stamina and athleticism. The not-so-amicable end of her last relationship had left Cleo lonely and horny, and she knew right after having her first taste of the Tribal Chief that she wouldn’t be able to leave him alone. Luckily, the feeling was mutual, as he kept coming back for more…and more…and more…

Fast forward a rollercoaster of a year and she was now Miss Money in the Bank, Smackdown’s fastest rising star at twenty-six years old…and Roman Reigns’ sugar baby. Of course, the perks were perking…Traveling in Business Class or in his own jet, designer outfits and accessories, late-night lobster dinners in restaurants shut down just for them, phone bill and house rent paid up, luxury hotel suites like the one they were currently in, enjoying a little after-party of their own after ghosting the one downstairs. But there was nowhere else she would rather be, especially since he would be gone in the morning while Cleo wrestled around the country, missing him something fierce. She never thought she would be in this kind of relationship, but this fun, adorable, generous, criminally sexy older guy had her wondering why she’d never considered it. He took care of her, pampered her, and satisfied her every need. He made her feel like a princess and that was all she’d ever wanted in a man.

She pushed him firmly to catch her breath, lightheaded from his delicious kisses, and licked her plump and swollen lips while staring up at him. Her fingers found the buttons on his dress shirt, slowly flicking each one open to expose his smooth, bronzed, tattooed chest inch by inch, noting the way he shivered as her short acrylic nails gently scraped his skin. She couldn’t help but grin at the sight of his open shirt and his hair loose and wavy; he strongly resembled those romance novel cover models from back in the day.

“Let me down so I can suck on my favorite lollipop,” she requested.

Without hesitation, Roman picked her up off the counter and brought her down to her feet before him. Lowering down to a squat, she backed him up against the counter and relieved him of his slacks with nimble hands. Her darkened eyes leered at his erection bulging impatiently through his Nike briefs, the front stained with his arousal for her. Her fingers peeled the elastic waistband down his muscled thighs, his long, hefty dick almost slapping her in the face when she set it free.

Roman’s breathing quickened as Cleo curled her fist around the throbbing length, squeezing out the bead of precum that clung to the tip. Their hazy gazes locked as her tongue darted out to catch it, licking the underside of his cock before guiding him between her lips, coaxing a deep sigh out of the Samoan.

“Unnnh, shit, Cleo,” Leaning back against the counter for balance, he nearly knocked over his iPhone in the process. Jerkily groping for the device, he picked it up, glanced between his Home Screen and Cleo’s bobbing head, and a naughty idea came to him. Tapping his thumb on the screen to find the camera, he couldn’t hold back his moan when her image materialized through the lens, making his dick disappear in her hot mouth like a magician.

"Smile for the camera, baby, I wanna remember this..." he said.

Her big brown eyes fluttered in his direction, and he tapped the button, the snap sound capturing the image of her pouty lips sealed tight around his dick forever. He firmly gripped the back of her head, struggling to take the picture three more times as she sucked him deeper and harder.

"You can just record it," she pulled him out to say.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “For real?” 

“Yeah. Have something to remember me by when you’re away from me.”

This was new. Sure, they’d exchanged dozens of nude selfies and some raunchy solo videos, but they were yet to put any of their sexscapades on film. His train of thought evaporated when a thick string of spit fell from her lips onto his milky brown length. His vision blurred as she then swallowed him up in one go, her sucking more audible from the gathering saliva, her hands twisting determinedly around his erection. As best as he could, he hurried to select the video setting on his phone and hit Record, his fingers digging into her scalp as the vibrations from her moans almost had his knees buckling. 

“Aw man, that mouth is fuckin' goated, princess,” he encouraged, raising his phone higher to get a better shot of her working him. He loved it when she got into it like this, so nasty and with so much passion and concentration. “This what you been waitin’ for all night, huh? This big dick deep down your throat?” he taunted.

Cleo blinked up at him with her long lashes, her naughty smile stretched by his girth. He looked so hot, bare-chested, staring down at her with his hair falling over his face. She could tell he was close already, the veins in his dick seemed to spring to life and thicken in her hand. With every suck, she made sure to moan around his big beautiful cock and let her tongue slurp all over it for extra stimulation. Her goal was to drain him, to wring him dry and make him lose his sanity. 

But not just yet.

Abruptly, she pulled away, sliding him out of her mouth with an audible pop as she said, “Okay, my feet hurt, I ain’t Megan Thee Stallion.” She raised her arms, gesturing for him to pull her back up.

Roman fought back a whine as his cock twitched pitifully from the sudden absence of her oral attention. Her annoyingly sexy smirk told him she was screwing with him again like she liked to, but he kept it to himself, inwardly promising to get his lick back. With shaking hands, he stopped filming and helped her stand up, watching her wobble a little in her high heels. 

Her lilac-colored nails wrapped around the neck of the Cristal bottle as she picked it up for a sip, and poked out her tongue to let the drink drip from it. It was bait, and Roman seized it with a needy growl, lapping up the alcohol with his tongue and making a messy transfer from her mouth onto his. God, he had the tastiest kisses, even coupled with the bittersweet flavor of champagne. When he pawed at the obscenely low neckline of her dress and his mouth latched on to her hardened, bare nipple, her heart thrummed excitedly in her chest as that familiar feeling of desire bloomed within her. 

“This dress is sexy as fuck, princess, but I want it off,” he demanded.

“You can take it off me, Daddy. Let’s go to the bathroom first. And bring your phone with you.” She took him by the hand and led him like a little boy across the large suite. Roman’s mouth watered as he watched her curvy hips sway from side to side as she walked. The things this girl did to him. It’s been a long time since he felt this way about any woman, since he’d been this happy and excited to be with someone. Initially, he felt like a dirty old man taking advantage of the beautiful, bright-eyed young starlet. But that reasoning was short-lived as Cleopatra proved from the jump to be more mature, more well-rounded and more in control than she liked to let on. He liked that a lot about his princess.

The backlit mirror in the fancy bathroom stretched over two sinks, the perfect backdrop for the sinfulness that was about to transpire. With a sultry smile, Cleo bent over one sink and pulled her dress up to her waist, exposing her black g-string nestled between her bountiful round globes. Using two fingers, she parted her folds and circled them gently over her labia, never taking her eyes off her big bad lover man, his phone recording her every move even though his eyes were glued to her soaking wet folds. With her slippery fingers, she rubbed her pussy before bringing them to her mouth to suck them like a pacifier, her moan low and sultry from her own taste.

"Mmm. Come closer, Daddy, I want you," she purred.

As he did, she took his phone and propped it up against the mirror in front of her, leaving the video running. His hulking form towered over her, his body molded into hers, his aching erection straining against her backside. His tongue darted out between his lips as his hands roamed her body. His expansive paws caressed her curves and the fleshy mounds of her ass, his thumb brushing over the phoenix tattoo just above her right buttock. Cleo loved that this Adonis of a man never seemed able to keep his hands off of her. Having done some work on her body, naturally and surgically, she hoped the change would take her places. Never did she think that said place would be in the arms of the face of the WWE. Her career progression, along with his constant attention, was validation that her investment was paying off.

"Look at the camera while I eat this pussy, baby," he instructed. He had the bottle of Cristal in his other hand, and he turned it over and poured the liquid all over her ass, drenching her already damp panties. She watched as he disappeared behind her, and a hiss slipped from her lips as she felt his mouth on her ass, kissing and biting softly. The feel of his long fingers squeezing her cheeks as he licked the champagne off her skin was incredible. He rolled her panties down to meet her stilettos and ran his hands up and down her smooth, toned legs, widening them to expose her wet, glistening pussy from behind. Her stomach fluttered and her loins clenched as he left a trail of big, wet kisses on her inner thighs.

"Your pussy is so pretty, baby girl. Just like you."

He started suckling her folds, using that godly tongue of his to split them apart and lap at her opening. The faster and deeper he moved his tongue, the louder Cleo moaned, all while doing her best to focus on the camera like he wanted. Fuck, his lips were so soft, his tongue warm and fat and heavenly as they worked together to devour her aching cunt.

The Tribal Chief reached around her front, slipping one hand between her thighs. Ignoring the throbbing of his cock reacting to her throaty moans, he pushed his middle fingers inside of her and pumped, reveling in the panting, whimpering mess he'd turned her into. She reached behind her to grab the back of his head, only for him to shove her hand away and slap her ass in warning. Cleo groaned loudly as his finger plunged deeper, nudging that sweet little spot that made her eyes roll back as the pressure built and built. She braced her hands on the sink and rode his face and fingers, grinding her hips until she couldn't anymore. She howled her pleasure as the orgasm quickly overtook her and she came in his mouth and all over his thick beard. The sensation so overwhelming that her legs nearly gave out where she stood.

"I need you to come like that on my dick," Roman murmured as he rose to his feet. Ridding himself of the rest of his clothes, he wrapped a steadying arm around her before guiding her face to his. She moaned as she tasted herself on his tongue, swiveling nastily with hers, devouring each other as though only the other could quench their thirst.

"I can't get enough of you, Cleopatra. Every time I think I'm satisfied, the hunger comes back stronger." He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, letting her flowery scent fill his lungs. "Everything about you makes me so hard. I need you, baby girl."

His voice and his words caressed her heated skin with the same devastating effect as his hands on her. Suddenly, her dress was too tight, too constricting, prompting her to pull it over her head with his help and throw it somewhere far away. She gasped as he immediately reached for her breasts, rolling their softness in his callused palms. Her gaze flickered from the mirror to the camera and back, catching his eye as he winked slyly at her.

She yelped a little as he smacked her hard on her behind, once on each cheek. His hand print seemingly seared into her ass, but she didn't dare say a word. As she waited for his next move, he stepped back, though she could still feel the mass of his thighs warming her backside. Suddenly, she heard the frantic, sticky sound of his hand jerking his dick. She almost melted at his expression through the mirror, his eyes clouded over, his beard glistening with her cum, his lips parted as he pleasured himself right in front of her, holding out on her. As "Sativa" played in the background, Cleo began to throb and pulsate, the anticipation getting her wetter by the second. The fact that he was making her wait sent her hormones into overdrive. Her honey dripped, rolling down her thighs.

When he was done, Roman grabbed the phone and held it right above her backside. His free hand rubbed all over her round ass before he grabbed his dick and spanked it on her ass, feeling harder and bigger than before on her skin. Reaching behind her, Cleo pulled her ass cheeks apart to help him sink inside her with one long thrust. He stroked inside her at a moderate pace, relishing in her sweet cream already streaking his dick. The mirror gave them the perfect view and eye contact. They could see each other's faces when their expressions changed, feel the shudder of their bodies when they moved and when they moaned with pleasure. Damn, what a beautiful sight, all captured on camera for their viewing pleasure.

"Ya know what? Throw that ass back for Daddy," Roman spoke roughly, his large hand clutching her waist and slowly rocking her back and forth on his cock, "This fat, sexy chocolate ass...fuck my dick with it..."

Planting her hands on the marble surface to steady herself, Cleo bit down on her lip as pushed back against him, pausing every couple of seconds to grind on him because he liked it when she did that. More heat bloomed within her loins at the satisfied groans falling from his lips, as he brought his hand down on her ass yet again. Moaning softly, she bounced faster against him, her pussy gripping him tight with each slide inside her. He felt so good, made her feel so full and so ready to explode again as her walls massaged his girth.

"Like that, baby? You want it like that, my Tribal Chief?" she spoke breathlessly, "That dick feels so good Daddy...Oooh sh-"

Roman had grabbed her left leg and lifted it onto the sink, opening her pussy up to him. He held her down and pounded her hard from behind with drunken, reckless abandon. It did something to his brain when Cleo idolized him with all these pet names; Daddy, baby, Tribal Chief; it boosted his ego and made his dick harder knowing that he was indeed in God mode. As her reward, he delivered heavy, grinding strokes right up against her g-spot that intensified her cries and had her gripping the marble surface for dear life.

"Talk to me, baby, tell me where I'm at?" he said, angling the camera to view her flushed face.

"In my stomach." She could barely speak or think straight or even stay upright, weakened from the mindblowing pleasure surging through her. She lay slumped on the sink, her eyes closed, her kiss-swollen lips parted as she enjoyed him inside her. He knew he was hitting her spot whenever her long eyelashes fluttered and her heavy breaths actually stopped for a couple of seconds, her mouth open in a silent cry. His hand then wound around her throat, yanking her body up from the sink and against him with her back to his chest. Twisting her chin towards him, he covered her mouth with a hot, sloppy kiss, coaxing her moans out of her throat and into his. Blindly putting the phone back down, his hips accelerated, drilling her pussy with added force, their slapping wet skin reverberating around the bathroom. His fingers slipped south to strum her clit, making her body tremble, on the verge of complete collapse as each wave of ecstasy grew more incredible than the last.

"D-Daddy...Roman, fuuuuck!" she stuttered, clawing helplessly at his arm around her neck, trapped between the hard surface and his hard strong grip, unable to do anything but endure the dizzying tandem offence of his cock and his hand inside her.

"I can feel you, baby, you 'bout to come, ain't cha?" he asked, a husky groan slipping from his lips as her pussy tightened around him. "Unnnh god, you feel so good. Come for me babe, I want your cum all over my dick."

Cleo's moans dissolved into broken whines as he kept pummeling into her, nudging her closer to the edge until there was no room left and she toppled over headfirst. Her body jerked once, freezing and then shaking as liquid gushed out of her and all over his and her thighs. The ecstasy was blinding, numbing with its sheer intensity. "Shiiiit!" she cried out.

"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout," Roman chuckled, letting her leg down and smacking her ass before spinning her around and lifting her to sit on the sink. His burly arms hooked beneath her knees, dragging her to the edge with his pelvis wedged against her clit. "Legs up, baby girl. Take the camera and watch Daddy fuck his pussy," he ordered.

Cleo licked her lips as she grabbed his phone, staring into the camera with unfocused eyes for a moment before directing it downwards to their naked, sweat-slick bodies. The Tribal Chief shuddered at the contrast of her pretty pink pussy against her russet skin. So fucking sexy. He rubbed his dick left and right like a windshield wiper over the fat, puffy pussy lips before patting her clit with it. "I'ma go nice and slow this time so you can feel all of me," he told her, groaning out loud as he slid in.

Chills ran down her spine as his magic dick stroked her right there, that lower sensitive part of her pussy that made potential orgasms creep in faster than usual. Roman knew exactly where that spot was, and he focused the pressure of his dick there, never stopping his onslaught.

"Shit...fuck that pussy, Daddy, fuck me, oooh yeahhh..." Cleo moaned, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of his dick beating her pussy up, testing the stretch of her walls. It felt so good that her grasp on his phone began to falter. Roman noticed, and he took it from her, extending his arm so that the camera caught the entirety of both their bodies, showing off his messy dick pumping in and out of her creamy pussy.

"Look at us, princess, look how good you take Daddy's big dick. Fuckin' beautiful," he said. She followed his gaze into the camera, honing in on his trademark smoldering lip curl that she always found so hot. Her pussy agreed, leaking just a little bit more for his benefit and hers.

With her arms braced behind her, her legs spread wide and looking right into the camera lens, Cleo watched her lover go to town on her, his dick finding the bottom of her pussy. His strong, toned hips bounced off hers, his increasingly ravenous strokes causing her walls to pulse around his girth. Searching desperately for something else to grab onto, she clutched the back of his neck and pulled his mouth down hard on hers. A clattering noise sounded, and she felt both his hands curl around her throat as he nipped at her lips, his tongue tangling with hers. When he pulled back, the light in his eyes was gone, completely blown with lust and need, and Cleo couldn't help but smile with pride. A warm thrill always rushed through her to see him like this; this huge, powerful, unflappable man losing all composure and control and losing himself in her and in the pleasure she was giving him. It was the biggest ego boost, probably a bigger achievement than anything she'd done in the ring, to know that no one else did this to him or made him feel like this.

Their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air while he rocked into her, his dick sliding in deeper with each roll of his hips. His phone lay unattended next to them, having dropped it in the heat of passion. Even as her climax loomed, Cleo still had the wherewithal to prop the phone back up against the wall facing them, not wanting to miss the money shot of their coupling.

"I'm 'bout to come, baby," Roman rasped, his movements intensifying.

"Me too, come in my pussy Daddy, come in me," she whimpered,  her belly warming with the molten heat of an impending explosion.

Her breathless mewls propelled the snapping of his hips, his growls more uninhibited and desperate as he held her legs tighter and fucked her like an animal. Her head banged back against the mirror and her body arched into his with a keening cry, her nails digging into his biceps as her arousal crescendoed and splintered her into a hundred pieces. It felt like the music was playing directly in her brain from how hard she was coming.

"Yeah, come all over me, fuck, Cleo, I love this pussy so much. Daddy 'bout to come so hard for you, ah, mmmhhh..."

The jolt of his big frame and the thick grunt that followed gave him away. His thrusts stopped, and he held himself still inside of her, his head thrown back while he came inside the warm tunnel of her pussy, making the sexiest noises as he lost himself to unbridled pleasure. Cleo moaned with him as her body jerked from the force of his pulsing cock filling her up with his seed. She grinned lazily into the lens knowing that the entire scene was captured perfectly. As he crumpled in her arms, she left a string of kisses along his cheek and his neck, holding him close in a sudden desperate need to crawl into his skin as they descended from the incredible high together.

After the world had quieted and the room had stopped spinning, he straightened his back, kissing her before he pulled his dick out, watching his cum ooze from her pussy. She reached down to spread her pussy lips open while he picked up his phone again to get a closeup of the creampie that he created.

"Feed me our cum, Daddy," Cleo begged with her soft spoken voice. She watched as he swiped two fingers inside her and held up their joined fluids to her lips. Her mouth eagerly weaved around the digits, sucking and licking up their cum juices thoroughly, making him moan at the sexy visual.

"I've trained you well, my baby girl. You like this freaky shit just as much as I do," he teased, kissing her again as his arms wrapped around her waist. This was probably the part Cleo liked the best; the quiet after the storm, the cuddles and sweet butterfly kisses; basking in the afterglow as her love for him continued to blossom and deepen.

"You okay?" he asked, massaging her back in soothing circles as he looked at her.

"Mmm-hmm," she sighed blissfully in response.

"Mmm, that shit was fire, baby. Damn. I know that video is gonna be a masterpiece when we look back at it."

Cleo giggled in agreement, cradling his face in her hands and smoothing her thumbs over his beard, watching him visibly relax from her delicate touch. "Send it to me. I plan on having a lot of fun with it when you're not around."

"Dirty girl," he replied playfully with another sweet kiss, leaning down to help her take off her shoes. "Speaking of, what's TV like for you on Friday? It's the run-in angle from Damage Ctrl, right?"

"Yep. I'm off all through next week to sell the beatdown. Why?"

"Perfect. I'm at my place in Palm Springs for a week. Come meet me there after the show. I'll send you your flight details. Gabriel will take you to the airport and I'll come get you when you touch down. Bring a couple of bikinis and dinner dresses. You need some money for those, babe?"

Shaking her head no, she smiled the sweetest smile and hugged him. He spoiled her so much. She still had to pinch herself sometimes that this was her life. "You take such good care of me, Daddy. I lo-...I appreciate you."

If he caught the near slip-up, he didn't show it. "I appreciate you too. You should know by now that I love spending my money on you and taking care of you. So your fine ass better get used to it if you ain't."

Get used to it. She couldn't help but let her imagination run amuck at those words. Was it possible that he saw something more concrete between them? After all, they pretty much acted like boyfriend and girlfriend and most of the roster knew they were a thing. Deep down she longed for confirmation, but she also didn't want to ruin their great dynamic by overcomplicating it with an "official" label.

"Question. That video is in safe hands, right?" she changed the subject, making Roman snicker at the tinge of trepidation in her voice.

"Relax. The security on my phone is double-cheeked up," he insisted.

"You sure? Cuz I'mma smash your phone to pieces if I have to," she warned. "My folks will kill me if that video ever leaked."

Her cute little threat had him chuckling. She was so adorable. "Easy, tiger. It's safe, for mine and your eyes only. I'd never do anything to embarrass my baby girl." He stroked her chin gently, his eyes soft and filled with a warm, tingling emotion that brewed inside him only for this beautiful, exciting woman and seemed to grow stronger every day. He knew what it was, and he secretly prayed that it was not one-sided.

Their lips met once more in a gentle, sensual kiss that neither of them wanted to end. The disappointment sinking inside Cleo when he pulled away quickly vanished as he picked her up and carried her towards the shower. Again, she let him take her wherever the hell he wanted to. As long as she got to be with her Daddy, it didn't matter where they went. Sooner or later, with the right timing and persuasion, she would finally gather the courage to tell him she was in love with him.

THE END

————————

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[tvgirlcore]

how would adam in eden treat his first wife reader

Was he an asshole before eve and lilith left him?

HOOOOLY CRAP GUYS. i went down the BIGGEST rabbit hole for this (perks of being sick and having free time)… first request!!!! (AND FEEL FREE TO LEAVE MORE :)) tysm!!! and with all the background research, i cooked !!! (proofread + i tried my best to make this accurate)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

how would adam in eden treat his first wife reader?

was he an asshole before eve and lilith left him?

(no warnings, no pronouns used, but suggested you are his wife ^_^)

— in my opinion, lucifer pretty much messed with his whole love life. i think he would be much more chill than he is now. but to try and match his character, he will be a little egoistic.

you were adam’s first wife, and to him, you meant a lot.

seriously, being the first man on earth he grew to be a bit egotistical. but, you helped tone that down from him. 

you knew he thought higher of himself, but you tried to remind him that humans should all be equal.

life was wonderful in eden. after spending time in eden with him, you both realized you were falling deeply in love with each other.

“hey, i think i’m in love with you.”

adam says with a grin, and you can’t help but reply,

“me too.”

and your relationship bloomed from there. he thought you were the most wonderful woman he would ever meet.

and as a few years passed, you became adam’s wife. 

he could hardly believe it, considering how dumb he was. you were like a goddess to him. beautiful in every way, even if you didn’t think so. he would always tell you how important you are to him.

you spent days upon days with him, and you would plan various things to do.

one of your favorite activities was spending a day in the warm sun, prancing in meadows and playing in creeks.

adam just adored you, sometimes he got a little embarrassed to participate because of his somewhat  ‘manly’ ego, but if you asked him to do anything, no questions, he’d do it right away.

“babe, there’s a bunch of flowers in your hair.”

he says, gently leaning forward to pick some of the succulents out of your hair. you two sat in the meadow, as adam hummed while doing so.

“what happens when we die?”

you say curiously, and adam looks at you wide eyed.

“oh, sweetness, don’t worry ‘bout that, ‘kay?”

you silently nodded, curling close to him. the sun was starting to set.

you two shifted on your backs to look at the stars, and he listened intently as you mumbled about the different constellations.

and soon, he knew when your speech got slower, and your hands stopped pointing up at the sky, you had fallen to slumber. and he follows quickly.

͙͘͡★

and you remained close, in love for years to come.

when it came time for death, you both succumbed.

when you made it to heaven, you were there together.

he was so happy, happy he is able to spend the rest of eternity with you.

extra / if he left you for eve + lillith (angstyyy kinda?)

when you and adam got married, you knew this wouldn’t last forever. you love him, so so much, but you knew he didn’t love you fully.

and that’s just who he was, perhaps. he was always eyeing other women, thinking he was superior to you, and seemed to become a bit short tempered around you.

and that’s when you couldn’t take it anymore. you confronted him, tears in your eyes.

and he left.

left you for eve, left her for lillith.

you knew there was no end to it, but when you became an angel, you saw just how fucked up he was.

he was even worse now, somehow, and you knew it was all his wives fault.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

research/long blabber about adam’s backstory i looked up to understand him further even after rewatching hazbin 4 times…  adam’s first wife lilith married lucifer,, lilith and adam fought (as of religious text) demons =sinners and freedom with a life in heaven =exterminations lilith = left and kinda evil? adam =first man earliest of man and kinda worst of man? (according to lol more religious text blah blah blah) uprise because lilliths singing which adam took advantage of? alastor’s master = lillith..(theory i think) OH GOD IM SO CONFUSED anyways. lilith hates subservience (willingness to obey others unquestionably) that’s why she left adam?? adam =toxic masculinity. eve left to eat the apple from lucifer ADAMS EX-wife set lillith up? or what. first human. after his wife’s? he’s EXTRENELY cocky and arrogant in charge of annual extermination of sinners (because of overpopulation) is mean because he thinks it’s hilarious, who’s gonna stop him? adam thinks no one can change, and thinks heaven and hell is a great system. basically abuses his power..  lucifer had a baby with adam’s ex-wife and is indirectly responsible for adam losing out on paradise. adam didn’t eat the fordbifden fruit which is why he acts the way he does? god complex cuz he’s firsy man. lillith was the first woman in hazbin, lilith left because adam thought higher of himself. EVE ATE THE FRUIT of knowledge! i tried to use my brain to the max to make this so I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #tvgirlcore #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x oc

[some-pers0n]

Hi I made a crackfic for Arctic's death because I had a terrible, horrible idea inspired by that old fandom meme. I don't regret anything <3

"Aaannnddd...perfect!" Darkstalker stepped back. "All set and ready to go. Haha! Look at him! Clearsight, look, c'mon. Come see."

"Darkstalker, I don't think this is a good idea–"

"Shut up woman and come look," he bluntly said. "Come on, it's not like the camera's gonna bite you or anything. Neither is Arctic, but, eh, maybe that'll add to the drama. The kids love it when people get hurt, it's why they watch it."

He grabbed the camera again and pointed it at Clearsight. "It's rolling. Come on, babe, don't you wanna do it? For the bit? Ohhh it'll be such a funny thumbnail. Everyone's gonna click on it. Just stick your head near him."

"I'm not going to bite an innocent dragon..." Arctic muttered.

"HA! Oh but it's okay for you to do that to me. Not cool dad. Mid dad behaviour, tee-bee-haitch. To be honest. Tee-bee-haitch– you get it."

"Back in my day we just called somebody a 'loser' if they were a bad parent. Like, me? I'm a dead-beat dad."

"Yeah, that's true." Clearsight nodded.

"But I'm not...mid? What does that even mean?"

"Mannn you so did not cook. 'Dead-beat'? Yeah, you're gonna be dead as hell once I'm done with ya. Like for real done. Dead. Deceased. Ain't coming back from that."

"God just kill me now," Arctic grumbled.

"In a minute! Me. I'm God. It's me. Get used to it :)"

"What was that sound you just made with your mouth--" Clearsight began but Darkstalker cut her off. He couldn't bother to hear such a whiny, woman voice. He needed to pay more attention to the crowd that gathered.

"Hey, hey! Guys! Check this out! I'm a livestreamer. I do all of these cool things on Twitch and YouTube. Follow me! My handle's Darksalter. Like Darkstalker, but salty, cause of all of the noobs I own on my daily League of Legends streams."

The surrounding NightWings just blinked at him.

"Ughhhh. How about you guys being recorded, huh? You get famous! Right here, right now, this is a big deal. No cap, this is serious. This is gonna be a livestream to end all livestreams. There's gonna be like at least ten dragons watching!!"

"OH MY GOD!?" One dragon shouted. "TEN??? I've never seen anybody have that many, hold on! We gotta watch this guy!"

Immediately, the entire population of the Night Kingdom arrived. Even the queen (a closeted Darksalter fan, who was wearing all of his merch) was waiting for him. They all cheered and clamoured for him.

"Settle, settle! I know you're all such adoring fans. Believe me, I would love me too. Already do! Such a great, handsome, all powerful animus." He flexed his muscles. "Plus, the ladies love me." He glanced back at Clearsight, who had the most aggressively unenthusiastic frown he ever seen.

"But, but, we gotta wait a minute. First, I gotta mew."

"What does that even mean?" Clearsight asked.

Darkstalker did not answer. He brought a talon up to his snout and then traced the outline of his perfectly gorgeous jawline. I mean just look at that thing. Downright beautiful. Like, come on now. Look him up right now. Yeah, yeah! The thang of all time! That sweet, succulent jaw. Bro's been mewing since the day he was hatched.

[A/N: it is a pretty cool jawline]

He cleared his throat. "Anyways, enough talk. You had your shot for the thumbnail, so now it's all about me." He looked at the camera and enchanted it to float. It hovered above, pointing at him. "Three, two, one..." He clapped. "And we're live!"

The crowd cheered and roared as he did so. No omegaluls. No minus ones. He was an unboxing andy just about ready to tear open into his best work yet.

"Hey what's going on Stalker Gang! How are the stalkers in chat going? Can we get the hype train going?" He gestured to the crowd, which yelled and screamed louder. "Yeah!! Let's go Stalker Gang!!"

"Darkstalker...this isn't you." Clearsight sobbed. "You don't do this. You aren't like this!"

"Baby, I'm an influencer. It's my duty as Twitch's No. 27 streamer of all time!"

Clearsight cried more but Darkstalker did not care. He turned back to the camera. "Ayyy guys!" He clasped his talons. "So, today is a very, very special day, because we have a guest! That's right, my terrible, very uncool, incredibly mid father! Look at him. Blue pilled in every sense of the word. Even his blood's blue, which y'all are gonna see real quick." He pushed the camera directly in his face.

"Hey, hey, everyone!" He gestured to Arctic. "Can I get a 'boo' from you all?"

With his command, the crowd began to jeer at Arctic. A wave of rotting tomatoes came hurling his way, splattering against his face.

"And, with that being said, this stream is sponsored by Glep. Get a Glep. Now. Or else. You don't wanna be there when Glep is upset. That's how the last moon was destroyed." He stared silently into the camera for a minute, as customary with the Glep sponsors.

"NOW!! Let's get this going!" He pointed at Arctic. "You. Unbox yourself."

"Wh–" Arctic didn't have a chance to finish before he clawed at his torso and gutted himself. The crowd kept cheering and applauding and tossing money at Darkstalker.

"Woah woah, pretty messy, huh guys?" He raised an eyebrow. "Totally unpoggers. L behaviour. Boo!!" But when he turned back, he noticed that everyone stopped cheering.

"Bro, dude," one dragon began, "poggers is so, like, old man. That's so cringe, skull emoji."

Then, they began to dissipate. Quickly as they arrived, they left. He was cringe now. So cringe.

"No, NO! Wait! Come back! I'm still relevant! I'm still hip with the kids! I– I..." But it was too late. He was cancelled for being cringe. Everyone was bored by him. He was out-of-touch. He was out of time. He was out of his head when they're not around.

Behind him, he heard his sister, Whiteout, crying. He turned back to see that her favourite stim toy, a rainbow coloured pop-it shaped like a crewmate from Amomg Us, was lying on the floor. Things must be serious.

"Sis, are you upset at me?..." he muttered.

"Yes! You just unboxed our dad! My trauma points are like so high right now. I can't even..." She wiped her tears and kept crying.

Darkstalker looked back at Arctic, who was dead. Very dead. He growled. "When I'm the alpha king of the world, everyone will be my fan. Everyone will follow me! Everyone will like and subscribe! You'll see, you'll all see!"

#sp-writing #wof #darkstalker wof #wings of fire

[epiphyllous]

when morning comes (Astarion/Reader) [3]

Astarion understands Ketheric Thorm more than he realizes. For what are they both if not selfish, foolish men willing to do everything to keep what is theirs? (Astarion begins to think he does not deserve you.)

Word Count: ~9k Notes: Astarion/Reader, Paladin!Reader, AFAB, gender-neutral "you", following Astarion romance route in his POV + my hc/additional scenes, [switches to your POV], annoyance to lovers, fall first/fall harder, mutual pining, Wyll/Karlach, implied Wyll/Reader [Part 2]

[Act II: Moonrise Towers]

Getting into Moonrise was almost too easy. It is a relatively stressless trip if not for the grand introduction of Ketheric Thorm. The man truly is invulnerable, walking up the steps of the tower without care after being killed twice right before their eyes. It is no wonder Moonrise follows his command, convinced of his authority as the Absolute's chosen. 

It is equally as easy to convince Moonrise that they are all willing followers of the Absolute. Z'rell is the only person they truly had to demonstrate loyalty to, but Astarion watches you display just enough cruelty to the goblins to prove your place. 

“Your lust for the neck pricker is succulent,” she suddenly says, eyes turning to him. Astarion looks to you in question, only to see you glance away in mild embarrassment. “It almost makes me want to take a bite out of him myself.”

“Enough,” you say, clearing your throat. “Surely you know by now we're loyal to the cause?”

She does, or she says as much when she assigns them a mission to help Balthazar get the artifact responsible for Ketheric Thorm's immortality. Astarion doesn't really know the details, not caring much to pay attention when he already understands the gist of it involves killing someone. Besides, he is more interested in what exactly Z'rell saw in your thoughts. If only to tease you about your ‘succulent lust’ for him, he means to bring it up the first chance he gets. 

You must realize this, because you take your time exploring Moonrise Towers and keeping them all preoccupied. Gale manages to get blessed for the first time in what seems like forever by his goddess when he rids of the foul Netherese magic circle in Balthazar's chambers. Karlach gets her chance to pet the undead guard dog in Ketheric's private quarters, and you keep him preoccupied with all the chests they have to unlock.

Astarion gets an opportunity to talk after they find Melodia Thorm's room and the letters she gave to her husband, but he finds you solemn in thought at the discovery, so he decides (for once) to leave you be for now. 

Then they meet Araj Oblodra, and the thought completely leaves his head.

He barely resists the urge to cover his nose for how foul her blood smells. He manages to smile rather than grimace when they first greet her, though he finds his efforts wasted when she sets her eyes on him to be bitten. Astarion can't imagine something he would want to do less.

When the drow asks if he ‘belongs’ to you, Astarion watches as you frown. "Astarion can answer for himself just fine," you say. "He's his own person." 

It is almost adorable how disconcerted you look when the drow continues on, as if you can't quite understand why anyone would think you could own him. Astarion finds it annoyingly familiar though, the way he is viewed as something lesser without needs or preferences. Your easy agreement to his own autonomy is... refreshing. He has known your proclivity for all things good and fair, but to have you display it in full for his sake,  Astarion feels touched.

“I will have to decline,” he tells her with a stiff smile.

The blood dealer bristles, not expecting his response, and he begins to feel uneasy despite himself. “Excuse me? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it.”

Astarion nearly bares his fangs in response. “I gave you my answer,” he hisses, and in the corner of his eyes, he sees you shift, stepping closer to him. The unease at refusing the offer dissipates knowing you are there to support him, even when the drow becomes increasingly displeased. 

“Can't you talk sense into your obstinate charge?” Araj demands, and you quip her with a short and sharp smile. That’s one he hasn’t seen in a while, Astarion thinks, forced civility wielded like a weapon against those who have found themselves on your bad side. Which you do have, to his past surprise. Astarion just never imagined that he would bear witness to someone landing themselves in it just because of the way they speak to him. 

Astarion would be lying if he said he was not pleased.

"I don't really see why he needs to say yes,” you drawl. “I'm surprised he said no, to be honest."

Ugh, you are honest even in the worst of times.

"Sorry, one moment..." Amusement and exasperation battles in equal strength as he pulls you away just enough to speak to you privately. "Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some potion?" He asks, though when he sees genuine confusion flit back into your expression, he confirms your question is out of curiosity not persuasion. You seem almost panicked at the thought of his suggestion being true.

"What? No," you reply back to him, alarmed. "I would never!” You desperately scramble to explain yourself. “I just thought you'd jump at the opportunity to bite people. I was, you know, just a little surprised.”

Funnily enough, you may have a point. A point that need not happen in front of an annoyed drow, but a point nonetheless. He could never truly fault you for being right, however inconvenient it is sometimes. (In the past, he would never have imagined he would feel this way about you.) "Well, yes, you aren't wrong,” he says, “but something smells off about her blood. I don't need to taste it to know it's going to be awful."

He shudders for good measure, and he sees your lips quirk up at his dramatics. He thinks briefly about how he has only known the taste of your blood, besides the time he was compelled to take a bite out of Gale because of a cursed frog. The drow's blood smells worse than his netherese poisoned blood, and in comparison, yours is almost sweet. Astarion finds himself elaborating without prompting. "Nothing that will kill me, but I'd rather not go through it if I don't have to."

You nod. "Okay,” you say easily, “if you don't want to, you don't have to.”

"Alright," Astarion replies automatically before his surprise can stop him. Just like that, he thinks, and he can make choices for himself just by how it makes him feel. It's rather novel. The realization is quite overwhelming, despite how simple you make it seem. He pauses, shooting you a quick smile-- or what he hopes is a smile. "Uh, thank you." 

You only wave your hand at him and turn back to the drow with an unapologetic smile. He faces the drow with you and turns her down again, much to her immense displeasure. 

You manage to lift Araj's moods somewhat when you offer up your blood for experimentation. Astarion isn't happy about the exchange, for who knows what the drow will do with your blood, but you seem genuinely curious enough about the whole concept. You get a flask made from your blood in return, which you give to him almost immediately. 

“A gift,” you tell him. “Let me know what it does if you drink it.” A flicker of guilt comes and goes when he accepts it, and for a brief and endearing moment he thinks this may be a gesture made because of the misunderstanding earlier. He feels pleasantly surprised by how quickly you come to his defense and try to make amends when you think you have done him a disservice– as though his feelings mattered. 

You tilt your head curiously. “Can you still smell my blood in the potion?”

Astarion opens up the flask and takes a look. In the bouquet of herbal scents, yes, he can identify your blood mixed in it. He rather thinks he is quite familiar with it, and it is a taste he can never get tired of. 

He wants to thank you but finds that he has bigger things to be grateful for. He has never been shy of showing thanks, but what you've just done for him in front of Araj is too important to him for it to be said in passing.

At every chance you get, you make him feel... seen. Safe. He is his own person, vampirism be damned– a living being with his own thoughts and feelings, and you make it known to him and to everyone even if he himself cannot see it. Your goodness remains in the face of temptation, and you are unwavering in your beliefs when you believe it to be right. How does one even begin to thank you for not betraying his faith in you like that? 

(What a fragile thing trust is, to be put to the breaking point at a single moment in time. What if you had demanded him to bite the drow, regardless of how he felt? If you had placed more value in the potion's abilities than in his own free will? He suspects his relationship with you would be unsalvageable. For some things may be forgiven–and he feels as though he would forgive many things for you–but he cannot afford to lose himself again, even to you.)

Astarion doesn't get a chance with you alone for a while, the party having moved on to trying to break the prisoners from Moonrise Towers. The tieflings– Rolan will absolutely hate the fact they will have saved Lia and Cal for him--and dark gnomes alike all wait in the prisons for the right time to hatch their plan. They are lucky to have them show up when they do and guide them out without a single trace. Astarion is almost disappointed that there wasn’t a fight to be had. 

He waits until the freed gnomes and tieflings steer their way to Last Light Inn in the distance before he speaks with you. Water laps at the makeshift port the prisoners sailed from, and as Gale goes into the logistics of his mage hand magic to Karlach, he approaches you. 

You look into the distance, beyond the point of where the Moonrise Tower's light can reach. When you turn to him, as if feeling his gaze, he feels a moment of déja vu. 

"I wanted to thank you,” he tells you.

You look confused, glancing out into the dark before coming back to him, and he realizes perhaps you think he's somehow grateful for releasing the prisoners. Not a strange notion, but certainly what would be a first for him, considering who they saved. "For what?"

"For what you said whilst we were in front of that vile drow,” Astarion continues, finding himself more impassioned than he previously thought. “You could have asked me to throw myself at the drow, my feelings be damned.” He pauses for a moment to gather himself. “But you didn't, and I'm grateful."

Your response comes easily to you as it did before. "Of course.” You tell him, “I wouldn't want you to do something you don't want to.”

Your words are gentle, but they leave him feeling exposed. It's as though his chest has been opened and now you bear witness to what he has kept hidden for so long. He is by no means fragile, but it does not mean he is unaffected by how vulnerable he feels in the face of your unconditional acceptance.

"I admit it's a novel concept. A little intimidating.” Astarion stops again, musing over his words and willing for his voice to stop shaking. You wait patiently for him until he confesses, “For two hundred years, I used my body to lure pretty things back to my master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing-- it never mattered. It would have been easy enough, honestly, to just bite her. Face a little disgust and move on from it like I did before."

“Astarion,” you begin softly, and he feels his neck prickle with an emotion unfamiliar to him: embarrassment. You pause then, finding the words you want to say. “I want you to keep telling me how you feel about things. I need to know what you're okay with and what you're not because,” and it is your turn to look abashed, “I don't always know what you want. I'm not the most observant person, and I would hate it if I accidentally made you do something you didn't want to do.” You breathe. “So, thank you, for telling me.”

“It's rather odd to hear you thank me,” he admits, and he unfurls fists he hadn't realized he was holding. He leaves it unsaid, how difficult it has been to be truthful to himself and to you. He isn't sure if he can remain so in the worst of times, but he knows this at least: he will continue to try.

He thinks it is the first time he has been given the chance to.

You make a face he would have laughed at if he were not so relieved. “I've said thank you to you before.”

“That is not what I mean, dear,” he replies dryly, and when he hears footsteps approach, he knows this conversation has reached its end. (An expert, Astarion carefully sews himself closed, though he leaves a stitch untethered so perhaps next time it will not be so hard to undo. The thought of being seen becomes less frightening when he knows it will be you.)

“Gale and I might've found something you might want to check out,” Karlach says, pointing behind her. “Looks rather nasty and sort of important.”

“Man, can we ever separate the importance from how disgusting it ends up being?” You bemoan, walking up to Karlach and easily accepting the arm she puts around your shoulder. “How gross?” 

“Quite nasty, even to our standards,” Gale replies, grimacing. “I think that's saying quite a lot, considering our adventures so far.”

Astarion hears you mutter a small ‘ew’ under your breath and he huffs in laughter. “Well, as long as it involves blood and violence, I'm sure it won't be too terrible of an encounter,” he says. 

Entering the adjacent bowels of an illithid colony threatens that viewpoint, but the rest of them are too preoccupied with their own thoughts to call Astarion out for it. All in good time, he thinks as he brushes off the organic bits off his clothes without drawing attention to himself.

.

.

.

Shadowheart is beside herself when they enter the Gauntlet of Shar. As one of the only and largest places of worship of the dark goddess, it is impressive in its grandiosity and in how unwelcoming it makes itself to be with its dark corners and tall pillars. If Shadowheart finds rapture in the temple, Halsin and you find it unsettling with how cold it is, though you keep your opinions to yourself. 

For Astarion, he finds the temple rather homey; it is quiet and lonely, but it is still leagues better than the dreaded halls of Cazador's castle. When he tells the party just as much, he receives matching looks of incredulity. 

“Do you… happen to like tall ceilings, Astarion?” You ask, comically sincere about it. 

“Perhaps he sees the beauty in the silence,” Halsin offers. “It could be seen as…” He pauses. “Peaceful.”

Astarion sees Shadowheart turn her head a tad too late to hide her laughter. 

Peaceful is giving the Gauntlet too much credit. The silence of the temple is unsettling at best, abandoned by those who used to worship it. Abandoned, it makes for a lovely home for a devil– more specifically the orthon they are tasked to kill in order to fulfill Raphael's deal. 

Astarion could care less why Yurgur is here, but if the absence of living Dark Justiciars is of any indication, the orthon must have overstayed its welcome after the war. His ability to turn invisible is a tad irritating but he and his army are no match for them and their combined wit. You have quite the arm to throw his bombs back to him, and in the aftermath, there is nothing but dust. 

As though he were watching, Raphael appears to them soon after to uphold his end of the bargain. He seems a midge too satisfied to be revealing the truth about the devilish contract etched onto Astarion's back, but perhaps he is simply happy to have gotten rid of his enemy vicariously. Astarion pays no mind to the devil when he leaves, mind whirling with the implications of the truth. 

In short, it is overwhelming. (The feeling is quickly becoming familiar.) Two hundred years of questions finally answered. The reason for his pain all those nights ago, the horrors he has had to face all these years finally having meaning. It is a dreadful conclusion to result in, with more problems introduced than closure given. 

Astarion lets out a thoughtful hum, and the concern on your face would be funny if his thoughts weren't so preoccupied. "You okay?"

"It's a lot to take in." Astarion pauses, looking over to you as you wait patiently, though there is still a veneer of concern behind your eyes. He finds that in your patience, he realizes he is afraid–of what is to come, and what this revelation means for him. Another realization is the fact that he trusts you in full. It should scare him, the way he feels like he can turn to you for help, but it does not--not as much as it used to. "What do you think I should do?"

"Well," you begin placidly, "anything to do with devils and demons never ends well. And," you glance at him, "the sacrifice of all vampire spawn doesn't sound too good to me."

"There's only the seven of us," he says, though he knows one is already too many for you to leave dead. The thought both irritates and comforts him in equal measure, especially when you give him a practiced look of exasperation. "Though that does include me. Just when I was about to start enjoying life again."

"And about Cazador." You continue plainly, "I don't think you'll be free until he's dead."

His heart leaps, and then something settles. How quick you are to get to the heart of the problem, not that he will ever admit it to you. "I hate," he says, "how right you are. If I thought he'd stop at nothing to find me when I was just his plaything, he'd go to the ends of Faerûn to bring me back knowing this contract." He swallows inaudibly, preparing his next words. "We need to take the fight to him, but I can't do it alone."

"You won't be," you say so easily. It pulls at heartstrings he wasn't aware existed. "You'll have me."

"Yes, well." He clears his throat. "Let's not overestimate ourselves; the two of us will certainly not be enough to go against a true vampire lord. Though..." Astarion trails off, trying but failing to stave off from the warmth that courses through him. "For what it's worth, thank you." 

Your smile is beatific, and Astarion begins to think perhaps he doesn't deserve you. 

.

.

.

As the umbral gems are collected, it begins to feel like the beginning of the end for the shadows that lurk. Everyone can feel it; it is the way hard conversations are beginning to be had, all loose ends tying up before the coming of a new chapter. Astarion sees you speak to Gale about his so-called destined fate to die against the Absolute, to Arabella about her future beyond her parents’ death, and to Karlach about hard decisions and an ending that seems all too close to come. You are busy with all matters of import that Astarion has not had a moment's time with you for the past few days.

He loathes to admit it but he finds himself missing your company. A ridiculous notion, he is sure. It's not as if he has not seen you around camp or not exchanged words with you at all. If anything, you still proactively seek out opportunities to see him when you are free, but all attempts to find the time to spend with him end up taken by someone else. 

Astarion remembers once upon a time when he had barely cared to recognize the effort you put into spending time with him. Now, when he is bereft of your presence, he cannot stand the fact that everyone seems determined to thwart your every attempt.

He says as much to Karlach– though he may have complained more about your busy-body schedule than admit the fact he finds himself in want of you. Much to his dismay, Karlach is similar to you in the worst of ways, seeing through him easier than most. Though it may be due to her straightforward manner more than anything. 

“Aw, Astarion, if you miss them that much, you can try to see if you can talk to them when they’re free too. Ooh!” She exclaims in excitement, “Do you want me to distract everyone for a little while? So the two of you lovebirds can have a moment together?”

Astarion is quick to turn her down. It embarrasses him to a degree that he misses you. He doesn’t think he is quite ready to admit it to himself, let alone to other people. It feels… final, like a turning point that Astarion isn’t sure he can take– should take. Surely, he thinks, you find other people’s company more enjoyable? “No, that won’t be necessary, darling,” he says airily. “It is hardly that important to warrant that much effort from either of us.”

He thinks Karlach’s look is much too sympathetic for his liking, so he excuses himself to read the Book of Thay again. At least then he won’t have to listen to his own thoughts.

That being said… Astarion's gaze follows you when you flit back and forth in camp. The book lay in his hands, opened but nearly forgotten, and he starts to take Karlach's words into consideration. Surely, initiating conversation with you should not be that hard? He has propositioned you twice already with no qualms and yet he doesn't know what to say to get your attention when it is not of sexual nature. He has never cared to, never been able to if he wanted to– and now when he has the chance, he stands rooted to his spot, unable to do a thing when Wyll asks you to dance with him as though it is second nature. 

And of course you would accept– why wouldn't you? 

He may have grown out of prince charmings and fairytale endings, but you? There could not possibly be a better match for you than Wyll, who is the epitome of everything you could ever dream of. Handsome, righteous, selfless– Wyll is the hero of every storybook, and Astarion would not be surprised if the heavens decided to make you for each other. Wyll twirls you in his arms, leading you with a gentle hand that is befitting of your nature. And you laugh, light and joyous, the two of you looking at each other with bright eyes.

Astarion would never doubt the fun that the two of you have together. But he knows you would want more than that. You dream of true love and world peace, dressing up in all white and walking down the aisle to swear yourself to another person for life. You bleed love with your every touch, and he has never tasted love until you. 

He doesn’t know if he will ever be capable of loving you the way you deserve. (After all, what has he ever given you but lies and deceit?)

Astarion watches as you take a deep bow, laughing all the while as Wyll claps at your performance, and something inside him churns with an unfamiliar bitterness. Jealousy? Envy, perhaps. (Of who– maybe Wyll, maybe you, maybe both.)

But then you bid Wyll farewell and turn to him, and your face lights up as bright as moonglow. Astarion hates the way his heart trembles at the sight of you. 

“Hey, you,” you say to him warmly, and a part of him wants to be spiteful– for invoking uncomfortable emotions he does not know how to deal with. The other half is simply glad that he has you at last. 

Bad habits are hard to break though. “I see Wyll has made you his latest dance partner,” he says, unable to remove his scathing tone. You are more surprised than upset at his sudden animosity, which is a boon in itself. You look at him curiously though, with eyes that see into him too well for his sake, before you reply.

“For practice.” You say carefully, “For somebody else.” Before Astarion can inquire on who, you change the subject. “Do you know how to dance?”

“I know enough.” He clears his throat, continuing, “Dancing is an easy way to proverbially and literally whisk someone off their feet after all.”

Your eyes brighten at his words, and Astarion begins to think your earlier joy was not because you were dancing with Wyll but because you love to dance in general. “You want to teach me how to dance?” Your smile reaches your eyes, as it always does for him. “I bet you know how to ballroom dance. That sounds dreamy enough for you.”

“Without music? Hardly a dance,” he tells you, but when he sees you deflate, he is quick to say more. “When there is a proper setting, you can be the first to witness my skills personally.” He finds it inconvenient that his mood shifts with yours, because when your countenance lifts with hopeful anticipation from his words, he finds himself pleased to have caused it. “For now, I think my words will suffice in charming you just fine, don't you think, darling?”

“Confident you still have more lines to give me?” You ask teasingly, and Astarion is nothing if not a proud performer.

“Every time I heard the tieflings cry, I remember how you sounded crying for me,” he recites sultrily. “And now all these accolades from the Harpers are nothing compared to the sound of my name uttered from your lips.”

There is that familiar look of embarrassment and delight again. You laugh in response, leaning your head into his shoulders bashfully. “You're too much,” you tell him, your arm pressed against his. He relaxes at the warmth from your touch. 

Guilt, envy, jealousy: he yearns for you despite everything he cannot be. In the end, he is but a selfish man at his core, and whatever he wants he will take. Until the moment you choose someone else to love and to hold, he will simply count down the hours till the sound of midnight chimes. But he will not let you go until then– and not a moment later. (Though perhaps if there is a person he can learn to love, it is you.)

Astarion goes on, line after line, if only to keep you here with him. “If you don't remember how much you enjoyed it last time, I would like to try again.” He lowers his voice to a whisper and watches as your eyes darken in response, “Until you can think of nothing else.”

“I hope,” Shadowheart interrupts with mirth, “you know he practices these lines when you're not here.” 

Astarion sputters, and he narrows his eyes in mild annoyance when he sees Shadowheart pass by with a knowing smile. “Excuse me-”

“If you wanted your practice to be a secret, you might want to be quieter next time.” Shadowheart pauses. “Or perhaps not set your tent next to mine?”

“I don't know, Shadowheart,” he croons, “perhaps you might benefit from learning a thing or two from my charms.”

“Rather doubtful–”

Astarion hears you laugh long and hard as the two of them bicker. It is difficult to come up with retorts when he cannot help but be besotted at the sound of your joy. He hopes it is not obvious to everyone else.

.

.

.

His worries seem all the more unimportant when they complete Shar's Trial. It turns out that the Nightsong is not a relic but an aasimar--Selûne's own daughter. Astarion already knows a fight lies in wait the moment Balthazar stops talking. After Balthazar swiftly joins the land of the dead, it is Shadowheart's faith that is put to trial. When she refuses to kill the aasimar, Astarion isn't sure he should be impressed she would deny her goddess or by how spectacularly her goddess lost her trust in the course of the journey. 

It's one of the reasons why he has never subscribed to the words of any god. What have the gods done for those who believed in them? Queen Vlaakith, who now swears to destroy Lae'zel despite her intrepid loyalty. Selûne, who could not save Ketheric's wife and daughter or her own child from a hundred years of captivity. Shar, who took advantage of the grief in Ketheric and innocence in Shadowheart for her own means. Mystra, who plucked Gale from a young age and cultivated him into a man who never felt like he was enough. 

There is simply no use relying on them for anything. For what can they offer to him now when none has answered him once in the past two hundred years? 

Astarion thinks you feel similarly. You could have easily been a cleric, a healer of the people blessed by the gods. But instead, you walk the path of the paladin, an oath created not in servitude to a higher being but to the weak and vulnerable. (Even then Astarion thinks that is too restricting for him, bound to do good by others no matter the situation. Believe him, he's already been on his best behavior by not pointing the sharp end of his dagger at anyone who tries to trifle with them.)

He once believed that your heart could know no evil, so being a paladin was easy. But he has grown to know you like the curve of his bow, and you are no saint. You become angry at others, yell and curse, and gods, you had the attitude to match him from the very beginning so he should have known even then. 

But perhaps it is because you are like anyone else that your ability to keep your oath shines far brighter than any devotion to a god. It is a part of you that no one can take away, and it is a concept that both amazes and discomfits Astarion in equal measure.

Even now at the top of Moonrise Towers, you still hold mercy in your heart for a man like Ketheric. Of course you would sympathize with a heart like his, twisted and mangled beyond repair because of love and grief. Astarion wonders how long Ketheric Thorm has gone without anyone trying to understand him? A hundred years at least, since the death of his wife and child, and here comes a wayward paladin and their party of four, giving him a chance for redemption. 

Astarion watches as Ketheric Thorm, the human he was, falls without a fight, and in his place, rises the undead chosen of Myrkul.

They've gone from fighting goblins to living machinery to literal shadows. To think those pales in comparison to the avatar of necromancy before them, all bones and scent of death. It would be so easy to be afraid, but then Astarion looks at you, lips moving in a silent prayer for courage, and he finds it less daunting to know that you can continue to move on despite your fear.

You are quick to dispatch the party: a group to free Dame Aylin from her shackles and another to start the fight against Myrkul. As Astarion sees Wyll, Shadowheart, and Jahiera teleport themselves closer to the aasimar, he knows quickly what team he's on. (“We work well together, you know,” he told you once after knocking down the goblin camp. He finds it somewhat comforting to know that statement is still true today.) 

“Ready?” You ask him, a scroll of dimensional door in your hands. 

“Darling,” he drawls, long bow in hand, “I thought you'd never ask.”

It ends up being a hard battle: cold, grasping hands of death from the unliving attack from all sides, the avatar of Myrkul summoning horrors beyond comprehension when they get close enough. And still, Astarion's hands remain steady as they aim deadly arrows toward a deity until it falls just like anybody else. 

“It's over,” he hears you breathe out, eyes wide as Ketheric falls to his knees for the very last time. It is a horrible sight to see a man in his last minutes, soul broken by grief and the gods that took advantage of that, and body broken by the aasimar he deceived in turn. Still, when your hand finds his in the aftermath of such horrors, he understands two things: he has never cared for someone like you before in his life, and all things must come to an end. 

It is only a matter of when. 

(And a third thing– Astarion understands Ketheric Thorm more than he realizes. For what are they both if not selfish, foolish men willing to do everything to keep what is theirs?)

.

.

.

They stay behind to help the Harpers rebuild the Last Light Inn. It's enough time to see where allegiances lie, who is to join them for the final act in Baldur's Gate, and to see the glimpse of the shadow-land curse ebbing away. Astarion doesn't know who, but someone suggests a celebration of victory as an ode to those who had fallen, and suddenly life is breathed into the land and its people. 

He's always loved a good party and he figures everybody feels the same. He can only hope the wine that's provided is even a smidgen better than the one in the druid grove. And he deserves a break– all of them do. Astarion watches as the Alfira and Lakrissa drag you away to some pre-celebratory hangout during the event's setup and cannot find it in himself to be anything but amused. 

As it turns out, in between the cobwebbed walls and doom-and-gloom, Moonrise Towers has plenty to offer for the celebration. The leftover rations– whatever is still good after the battle anyways– serve as the basis of a banquet. The old and dusty black and white robes and attires of the Selûnites that once occupied this place are still in good condition, if you discount the mothballs and eaten up bits. 

It makes for a nice change in pace for many at least, though Astarion thinks he'd rather wear something with embroidery than don a goddess’ servants outfit no matter how nice it is. It is a good thing Shadowheart is not quite Sharran or else there would be quite an upset. She is more preoccupied by her conversation with Dame Aylin than with the festivity preparations, but he knows she will join in due time if you have anything to say about it.

In the quiet bustle before the banquet, people flit back and forth, busy. Whether they are preparing the necessary things for the celebration, healing the wounded, making the burial grounds, or getting drunk ahead of the game, there is something to do. Astarion finds himself in the last category nursing a cup of wine and watching the processions, His Majesty curled up at his feet. 

The last person he expects to make time to speak with him is Wyll.

“Care for some company?” Wyll asks with a smile.

Astarion shrugs, hiding his surprise behind his nonchalance. “I suppose the wine can be shared.”

Wyll nods. “Much thanks,” he says, allowing Astarion to pour him half a glass before taking a cursory sip. Astarion follows after him, though he watches Wyll carefully in the corner of his eyes. 

“I've hunted demons,” Wyll begins, “orthons, devils, and monsters. When I met our leader, I never expected to eventually fight against a God. Did you?”

Astarion lets out an airy laugh. “Knowing who we're following, I can't say I'm too surprised.” He waves his hand flippantly before crossing his arms. “Goes to show even Gods can fall… and that paladins seek nothing but trouble.”

Wyll laughs at that, and Astarion tries to not make it seem like he's almost dropped the glass. “Makes you hopeful, doesn't it?” Wyll tells him, “That there's nothing that cannot be done at their side?”

And there it is, Astarion thinks wryly. Their single point of similarity lies in their affections for you. He was wondering why the righteous Blade of Frontiers was making conversation. But still, with the jealousy that swirls low in the pit of his stomach, he thinks of you and the miracles you have created from seemingly nothing and warmth spreads and overtakes any and all bitterness.

“Astarion,” Wyll starts, faltering for the first time. Astarion barely has enough time to turn to him when he continues to greater incredulity. “I was wrong about you. Truly wrong about you.”

What? Astarion stares at him for a moment before he realizes he's taking a moment too long. Being snarky comes like second nature. “Let me guess,” he drawls, “you thought I'd sucked blood, but instead I just suck. Was that your witty jab?”

“No! I mean it,” Wyll says. He is sincere as he always is, and Astarion wants to sneer at it, if only he wasn't reminded of you. (He's grown used to people saying what they mean, and part of him is scared of it.) “There's little between us we share, but you've fallen in love and stood by your lover. This is something this dreamer's heart can appreciate.” 

Wyll means you, he realizes. You and him: lovers. It seems to become less of a lie with each coming day if Karlach and now Wyll seem to see right through him. “I– thank you,” Astarion replies, bewildered, “I suppose.” 

“Pay it no mind,” Wyll tells him, clinking his glass to his. “After all the fighting we've done, it puts a lot of things in perspective. I don't want to leave things unsaid nor undone.”

Astarion snorts into his glass; hardly a charming gesture but he finds it easier to be less than such these days. “See, that's where you and I can agree on!” He says slyly, “Is that where all your night time dancing practices have been for? To woo your love at the first chance you get?”

Wyll coughs into his hand, and Astarion watches in glee as he grows embarrassed. “I hope you haven't seen me in the earlier nights; I was quite horrendous.” He sighs. “I can only pray that no one else has noticed besides you and our leader… I was hoping to keep it a secret until later.”

“Knowing our camp, it was never a secret to begin with,” Astarion says dryly.

“I just…” Wyll continues almost wistfully, “I want to give her something to look forward to. She deserves the world after everything she's been through– let alone a dance to truly and well whisk her away.”

Astarion can see the lovestruck gleam in Wyll's eyes as he talks, and he recognizes that look not when he looks at you but instead… “Karlach?” He asks, watching as the mighty Blade of Frontiers fidgets in place, “So you've been practicing your dances for Karlach?” His smile widens not unlike a cat who has captured a canary, both from the fact he has nothing to fear from Wyll and from the way he now has the ammunition to tease the man. So this is what it means to kill two kobolds with one stone. “I hope you haven't been practicing other things without her too.”

“Astarion, please.”

It's moments like these when Wyll is trying to sink into the floor from mortification that he is reminded how young the warlock is. He never imagined talking about love with him of all things, but here they are– it surely isn't the strangest situation he's been through. “I'm sure Karlach would be happy to have you ask her to dance, skills be damned.”

“I'm sure,” Wyll says warmly, “but I want to give her only the best, if I can.”

And if that wasn't another sentiment Astarion has grown familiar with.

Before guilt can sink his mood, Astarion clears his throat. “You wouldn't happen to have a few dancing lessons in store for your fellow companion, would you, darling?”

Wyll is kind enough to not say anything to his question, though the knowing looks he gives Astarion throughout his guidance is reminiscent of Karlach that he escapes as soon as he is able. With the party soon underway, more people come into the main floor with fresh attire. Alcohol is poured and music is played with Alfira leading the fray. Lakrissa, never far from her lady bard, meets his gaze and nods her head upward. 

“Upstairs,” Lakrissa tells him with a wide smile. “They're doing some finishing touches. I'm sure they won't mind if you get them.”

There is that damned knowing look again, he thinks, walking up the stairs. He pauses for a moment halfway up, gazing at the party quickly underway and at the people he has met thus far. He spots Dammon and Karlach talking near the door, Wyll across the room building his courage to ask her to dance. Shadowheart and Lae'zel sit at the bar drinking in surprising camaraderie next to Rolan and his siblings, still ribbing him in usual manner. Harpers are scattered in the room, Jaheira to the side watching on after having said her goodbyes prior; she will be joining their party to Baldur's Gate, after all. 

Halsin was preoccupied with Thaniel so he may or may not be joining them later on, though Astarion doubts he would disappoint you by not showing up. Not seeing Gale in the midst if the celebration is strange, considering how much more eager he is to converse with others. Astarion's pondering answers itself when he sees Gale exit your room.

“Ah, there you are,” Gale greets him cheerily. “They're about done with their preparations– they thought they'd ask me for my opinions on their appearance. And despite my admitted inexperience in the matter, I hope I did my due diligence in reassuring them they looked fine. The rest is up to you, I'm afraid.” He puts a hand on Astarion's shoulder and squeezes lightly, and the look in his eyes grows somber for just a moment. “Treat them well.”

If he had a heart still, it would pang with guilt. “Don't I always?” Astarion says airily, and Gale gives him another pat and a wide smile.

“That you do, my friend,” Gale says warmly. “I am ever glad to see my two good companions happy together. Best wishes to you both.”

Gale leaves him and Astarion stands outside your door, unsure what he is waiting for. He peeks inside, watching as you tinker with your jewelry in the mirror. In the reflection he sees you in all your glory. You are beautiful as ever in your evening attire, simultaneously dashing in your knightly way as you are beautiful and warm and real. You notice him in the mirror and turn to smile at him, and guilt settles into him like lead.

You deserve more, he thinks with finality, and Astarion knows then he can no longer delay the inevitable, despite himself. You must know the truth about his intentions for you, even if it pushes you away from him and renders your protection for him. You deserve nothing less but his honesty. He only wishes he were not so cowardly as to have done it sooner, if only to not ruin the rest of your night. 

(But the truth is, Astarion has a little hope that you will still love him despite it all– because he thinks he wants something real with you too.) 

“There you are,” you say warmly, walking up to him. “Are you ready to dance?” You take his hand in yours, and he holds onto you for dear life. 

"I was waiting for you,” he tells you weakly. He squeezes your hand as if asking for strength. “Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk."

Lovely as you are, you are nothing but concerned for him. "Yeah, sure! Are you okay?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine,” he tells you automatically. Deflection comes easily for him. “I just-- feel awful."

Your sympathy is almost too much to bear that Astarion musters up the will to push forward before your compassion weakens his resolve. He must confess now or he never will. He swallows painfully.

"Look, I had a plan,” he begins to explain, “a nice simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me." He lets out a shaky laugh– entirely inappropriate and unreflective of his feelings, but what else is he to do? Does he even deserve to show you how much turmoil he has gone through to reach this point in telling you? 

"It was easy,” he continues, trying to ignore the way his chest twists painfully when he sees you flinch, hurt. “Instinctive.” He lets your hand fall from his as he gesticulates, weaving his story dramatically in the only way he knows how lest he feel too much. Your arms draw themselves in as if to brace yourself for a blow, and all Astarion can think is that he must– he must continue on for better or worse. He cannot bear doing this a second time. 

“Habits from 200 years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it,” he tells you. Astarion feels his voice shake. “And all I had to do was not fall for you. That was where my nice, simple plan fell apart."

He sees a flicker of something in your eyes as he finishes. He can't quite place what it is– he can hardly begin to process how he's feeling at the moment. But the truth is finally out in the open, and the tension in his body is pulled taut like a bow string as he waits for your response. He wants so desperately to make excuses, to go on about anything that would salvage his relationship with you, but he won't. You have been patient with him time and time again, and it is only fair for him to do the same.

No one ever told him how hard it would be though. To wait. You stand only a foot away from him and yet the distance between the two of you feels vast.

"...So,” you begin quietly, “did the nights we spend together... did they mean anything then?"

You're ridiculous, he thinks, almost laughing in fond incredulity. He half expected you to storm out of the room, demanding he never speak to you again. The fact you are still talking it through with him is more than he could ever ask for. "Of course it did,” Astarion tells you fervently. “That's the problem. Or part of it. You–” His voice catches with emotion. “You're incredible. You deserve something real.” 

He watches as you blink in rapid succession, willing the tears that come easily to you away. Astarion thinks about the way you yearn for simple touches, sweet romances, and true love. And even if he does not yet know how to love you the way you want, he knows this: “I want us to be something real."

Astarion reaches his hands out to meet yours before he realizes it is happening. The utter relief he feels when you close the distance (so small yet so far) between the two of you is insurmountable. He thinks you can feel the way his hands shake when you hold onto them. Or is that you? He thinks, savoring the warmth seeping into his skin. No matter– nothing else matters but the way you are still here with him now.

"So do I,” you say wetly. “More than anything."

Astarion knows better than to look into a gift horse's mouth, but it is in his nature to question when good things happen to him. His question comes out quietly, disbelieving, "Really?" 

And he can see your expression soften-- not of pity or sympathy-- just affection as you huff good naturedly, as though he were just absolutely silly for doubting you. "Yes, of course," you say, cupping his face just as gently before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. 

You are warm in his arms with the sweet scent of lilac. 

When was the last time he has been held like this, he wonders. Without precontext for sex or expectations for something more. Like when he was helpless but to see you preoccupied with others, it is in times like these Astarion realizes he is inexperienced when it comes to affection in its purest form. It makes him… lost in a way, to know what he does not know. 

[Can he tell, you wonder, that you've been wanting to hold him like this from the very beginning? To make him feel safe. To let him know he has nothing to worry about, at least when it comes to you. You hold him tightly, and if love could be poured out from you to another, you would have it spill over and more.]

But you don't seem to care. You never have. Giving little bits of affection to him wherever he can accept it without expecting anything given back. He wants to learn how to be with you starting now.

Moving his arms around you to embrace you is unfamiliar, but his hands find purchase on your back, palms flat and firm. Your heart against his chest beats steadily, and Astarion finds that he doesn't want this moment to end. He feels vulnerable in a way he has not felt in a long time, if ever. Everything seems easier to say to you, now that you accept him, flawed as he is. 

"I just,” he begins quietly, “don't know what real looks like, not after two hundred years of playing the rake. Being close to someone, any kind of intimacy, was something I performed to lure people back for him.” 

He feels you pull away, but only for a moment before you are holding his hands gently. He continues, “Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels tainted.” He feels his mouth twist at the word, and he looks down, shame burning his tongue despite himself. “Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing.”

“I don't know how else to be with someone,” he confesses, “no matter how much I'd like to.”

Silence fills the space the two of you take up. It would feel suffocating if not for the way you rub his hands with your thumbs, grounding him to this moment. It feels so easy to just run away, but he stands with you until you find the words to speak. You tell him finally, “You are important to me no matter what you're going through.” His breath catches. “And if that sort of intimacy makes you feel uncomfortable, we can be together without sleeping together for as long as you need.”

You are firm with your words, and Astarion blinks away wetness in his eyes and tries to reach for levity as he always does. “Why, that almost sounds like a challenge,” he says, and when you do a little laugh, he feels lighter. 

The two of you are by no means a perfect union. Far from it: who would ever imagine a vampire rogue and a devoted paladin to be a match for each other? And yet, you want to make the two of you work. He wants it to work, whatever it is they are. Rather than fear or apprehension, he finds himself in anticipation for an unknown destination with you by his side. 

(It feels a little bit like death, in a good way. To imagine this is how people feel all the time– excited and terrified all at once; how do they all do it?)

Astarion lets out a laugh of his own. "Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing. Or what comes next,” he says. He raises his hands where they are connected to you. "But I know that this? This is nice."

Your smile is wobbly with emotion, and your eyes shining with an affection that Astarion has grown familiar with. "Dance with me?”

Astarion responds by taking one of your hands and placing a kiss at your knuckle. The smile he receives from you is daylight and he basks in its presence. “Shall I take the lead this time, darling?”

“Only just this once,” you tease, and he is almost giddy at the banter. Oh, how quickly the two of you begin anew, as if no hurt has been done. Eyes wet with emotion now dry and upturned from mirth as Astarion dramatically presents your hand, walking down the stairs to join in the banquet.

How ridiculous mankind is, for celebrating while their fate looms over the horizon at Baldur's Gate. How incredulous people are for still holding onto hope even when hope seems all but lost. Astarion still thinks it unwise to trust others in a world where only the strongest survive, but perhaps he has changed just a bit if he thinks it is not quite so impossible to believe in it himself. 

He is not healed– and he feels he will not be for some time, not as long as Cazador still lives. But much like the shadow-cursed land, he feels as though he is healing. At your side, with his hand on your waist and the other entwined with yours to twirl you on a wooden dance floor as you laugh until you are breathless– he can finally try.

And perhaps that is all that matters.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(Sleeping beneath the stars, a night before reaching Baldur's Gate, Astarion thinks about how you have given him precious, impossible moments of comfort. He had only expected to have a few more before an untimely death but after time and time again, the two of you live. 

But just how long will that luck last? 

With Cazador, the two avatars of death, and the elder brain looming over their fates, Astarion feels a fear unlike what he has ever faced, for he has far more to lose than just himself now. It suffocates him. Because he is not good enough- not strong enough. Not for you, not for Cazador, nor for the gods that never answered him. 

Unless…

If he takes Cazador's power for his own, if he can ascend and become a creature far beyond a true vampire… he can finally keep the two of you safe– for good. From all the evils of the world, from the Cazadors, from whoever dares to threaten the two of you.

Whoever must be sacrificed to make it happen be damned. Astarion will be selfish enough for the two of you. 

A part of him wonders if you will still love him then.)

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x you #astarion/tav #astarion/reader #thank god i split act ii into 2 parts

[equallyshaw]

the one where - | nico hischier

─ nico x erik johnson oc sister

warnings: swearing, anxiety attack. angst, thats all i can say. a bit slow burning as well. sexual themes at end, but its like pg.

word count: 5.8K

shoe link.

dress link.

clutch link.

second outfit.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the first time they met.

miranda stepped into the prudential arena for the first time since she had been hired by the management team. she followed the team assistant that had been waiting for her as soon as she walked into the staff wing, and the two made their way up to her office than she would be getting a personal tour of the arena. miranda johnson was hired as as the devils second in command to their head psychologist, thought she was hired for the social worker aspect. "is it true your erik johnsons little sister?" the assistant asked and the girl nodded towards the older girl. "yep unfortuntly." miranda hummed causing the blonde girl to giggle. "i have an older brother too- id like to kill him sometimes." and miranda laughed. "oh good lord, i want to sometimes as well. sometimes they need their lives threatened every once in a while." miranda joked as casey opened her office door.

four walls covered with grey paint, a desk, small leather couch, mini fridge, a tv, some fake succulents and a desktop computer filled the room. "home sweet home." miranda said softly, setting her bag down under the desk. "lets head down to the ice, I'm sure its different then denver." casey smiled and miranda grinned. "well for starters yall have no mountains." miranda joked. miranda had done her undergraduate and graduate degree at the university of denver, and as soon as her brother was traded she no longer wanted to be in denver. so she headed out to the east coast, looking for different jobs in the new york area and came across the devils. match made in heaven she thought, doing what she loved and working within the sport she adored. the two headed down talking about jersey and the team themselves, "i would say the captain does a great job of keeping the team together but he's also younger so sometimes it doesn't always work out." casey explained and miranda nodded. "good to know." she hummed, now walking down to the bench. the ice was clean, patiently waiting for the players. they sat on the bench taking in the quietness of the arena. "it definitely is different than ball arena." miranda commented, with slight sadness in her voice. the two spoke about the team, the coach and anything else casey had to say. they stood up just as some of the players began to filter out. "casey!" the boys said as they noticed the girls. they smiled at miranda before stepping out on the ice, and then nico stepped out. "hi casey!" he said and then stalled seeing the dark haired girl. casey noticed him trying to figure out who miranda was as she watched the players skate around. "oh this is miranda johnson, the new social worker we just hired for the team!" casey explained and miranda was pulled out of her trance and turned to look at nico. "miranda johnson, nice to meet you..." she trailed off as she held out her hand. he took off his glove and held out his hand, "nico hischier, captain." and she nodded before pulling back her hand. "hopefully we arent too much work." he joked and she waved him off, "nothing i cant handle." she smiled and he chuckled softly. "let me know if that's the case in a...week." he joked before stepping onto the ice. miranda looked at casey, "you're gonna hate jack hughes in a week." casey joked causing miranda to smile respectfully. "trust me, you will..." casey added, before the two headed back upstairs.

°

the time she ended up at his place. and one where she got fired.

it was saturday night, before a early afternoon game between her brother and the devils in jersey. she had been with the devils for about two months already and was enjoying her time, and most definitely understanding the chatter (mostly harmless) around jack hughes. he definitely had a lot to say, and most of the time it was just drama he wanted to talk about. she had to remind him many times, that she was a mental health professional not somebody who talked about drama all day everyday. he still came around, to do just that. but she enjoyed getting to know the other players and some of their wives, all of them wanting to meet the person on the team who had been knocking some sense into their men and who was making progress. like real progress. and creating an environment that made the team, staff, and everybody who came across her safe.

she smoothed down her black mini dress and stepped into her baby blue heels, making sure everything looked good before she left her apartment. she quickly made her way down to her car, sliding in and letting erik she was on her way. about 35 minutes later, she pulled up to the Italian restaurant in lower manhattan and pulled up to valet, letting them pull her car around back. she made her way in and greeted the hostess, and they took her towards her brother. "bean!" he said wrapping his arms around her 5'5 frame. "hi bear." she smiled, taking in the hug she had missed the most. they parted, and he pulled out the chair for his sister and she thanked him. "so tell me about jersey, how is it?" he asked as she sipped the wine he had ordered for the two. she smiled, "its good! i've pretty much have found my groove with everybody. i think they're really taking to my style of work and i think the way everybody has responded to it has been good. though." she paused giggling, "there is one guy that quite literally just wants to gossip with me, he knows my role and stuff but just wants to gossip. half the time its funny shit but others its like serious and so i tell him he cant go around blabbing his mouth but i know he doesn't listen." she said and ej laughed. "hows buffalo though, hows josty?" she questioned, a small smile forming on her soft pink lips. ej laughed, "he's great! he's happy to have me on the team...y'know he still asks about you." ej said grinning and miranda rolled her eyes. "last time i checked..isn't he the one that said we couldn't be together after he was traded? that he didn't want to do long distance?" she smirked, quirking an eyebrow. he shrugged, "i think because im now there, he realizes how much he's missed having a johnson in his life." he said with a toothy smile. she rolled her eyes, "alright big bear." she hummed.

_

as the dinner progressed, miranda's phone hadn't stopped vibrating in her clutch that sat next to her. erik took notice of it, but did not say anything at first. "hey randy, you wanna check your phone?" he asked slirping spaghetti in his mouth. her eyebrows creased in confusion, and she pulled out her phone to see multiple messages from nico as well as a few phone calls. she read the messages, nico clearly in some sort of distress. "do you need to take it?" ej asked and she looked up at him, "its one of the players." she said looking back down debating if she wanted to call or text. she chose the latter,

miranda: you ok?

nico: i dont know whats happening

miranda: whats going on? are you hurt? do you need an ambulance or me to call somebody?

nico: thats why i was calling you. my chest hurts, i cant breathe.

miranda sighed knowing what was happening.

miranda: do you need me to call?

nico: can you come over? i need to talk face to face with whatever this is

miranda thought long and hard, before looking back up at erik. "one of the players needs me to come to his place and i-i don't know." she paused to bite her lip, thinking if ethically she could. "ej-im sorry." she said looking up at him but he waved her off. "your job calls, don't worry randy. go, ill take care of the bill. ill see you tomorrow." he said standing up to hug the girl. the big bear wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head before they pulled apart. "ill let you know when i get home!" she said before taking off towards valet. she texted nico, asking for his address and he responded quickly. back to jersey.

_

she knocked on the highrise apartment, alerting the swiss inside. he stood up and dragged his feet towards the door and as soon as she saw the state of nico; she knew she was in for a long night. he opened the door wider for her, and she took in the surroundings. clean, crisp, and sleek, she thought. she turned around to face nico, keeping a bit of distant between the two. he took in her attire and then looked at her. "were you on a date?" he questioned, with somewhat of a distaste in his mouth. she shook her head, "no i was out with my brother. him and buffalo just got in." she said and he was confused. "my brother is erik johnson." and then nico's eyes went wide. "i had no idea, I'm so sorry!" he said feeling bad, his anxiety rising even more. she shook her head, "no no, its ok! i just want to make sure you are ok nico. whats going on?" she asked softly. he closed his eyes and sighed. she took in his composure and his inability to relax. may it be because he's the captain and he feels as if he can't show any weakness or maybe its pride. "take your time nico, you don't need to spit it out all at once i promise. whatever you feel comfortable with." she said trying to gage his reaction. he nodded, reopening his eyes, and looked towards the kitchen. "would you like some water?" he asked shooting himself in the foot, calling himself stupid for not asking it to begin with. "sure, ofcourse, thankyou." she said following him towards the kitchen now. she could tell that it was eating him up inside, and knew at some point she'd need to inquire about it. but tonight was not the night. she sat down at the island counter, and he pulled out a bottle of water for himself and her.

"how are you feeling right now nico?" she asked sipping a bit before setting it back down. he shrugged, "i feel a bit better, after you said you were coming i kind of calmed down a bit but my mind wont st-stop racing. which is causing my to be nervous about something, i have no idea." he rambled as bit and she nodded. "what are the thoughts you're having? are they about hockey, personal things, family?" she asked tilting her head to the side just a bit. he bit his lip, "its-its nothing." he said closing off, and she nodded "okay. in order for this to work nico and to understand more of why you called me, can you explain a bit about how you were feeling earlier?" she questioned, treading water. he was either going to answer it or retaliate and get upset. he sighed, "it felt like i had a weight on my chest or something, i couldn't breathe. my breathing was fast and shallow, i was sweating..i-i cried a bit." he said looking down at the ground. "I've never had that happen before though, it was a shock and so that made it worse." he said looking up at miranda. "well it is completely normal, nico. i can assure you that. sometimes our bodies can not always tolerate or compensate our anxiety. thus, leading to anxiety attacks. so we have chills, the sweats, overwhelming thoughts for various reasons. could be from work, could be our family or personal life or it can just be triggered for no apparent reason." miranda explained and nico nodded. "i don't want you to feel as if its wrong or that it means you are weak, because that is far from the truth. i like to say that when people have an anxiety or panic attack, it shows how strong mentally we are because to get to the point of an attack we would have had to gone through so much turmoil mentally and emotionally. and sometimes the only release is for those to happen. to think of how much you might have been taking on and that is remarkable in itself. besides, having an anxiety attack makes humans more resilient." and that made nico relax just a bit.

"well good thing you said that, i was feeling like a freak over here." he said cracking a small smile. she nodded, "yeah no, you are from a sneak i can assure you. if its considered to be a freak, then call me one. i don't wanna feel left out." she hummed, "you've had them before?" nico asked quickly. she nodded after realizing what she had said and the fact that she shared personal info, "uh yes. I've had them throughout my childhood and adolescence. its gotten better over my young adult years but i still get them occasionally. especially when i feel like a fraud at work or in my personal life." she said shrugging. "a fraud?" he questioned, moving towards the kitchen island and resting his elbows on it, their hands now only inches away from one another. she nodded, "yes. i believe and feel as if i don't belong where i have ended up. i believe that i don't know enough, have enough experience for the work i do. and then i don't feel as if i deserve the friends i have, especially the ones i made back in denver. I've always thought that if they did not know my brother, they wouldn't give me a second look." she said shrugging before she took some sips of water.

nico took in that information and his heart broke just a bit, she didn't understand what a god send she was. how kind, open hearted, always willing to help in any way she could and on top of that, she was hilarious. always had a joke or two to cheer up some of the guys. he didn't like how she sold herself short over friendships. "i don't buy that for one second." he said, "the friends part. you're pretty rad miranda." he hummed and she felt her cheeks heat up just a bit. "oh really? i guess ill add that to my case file." she said laughing, and nico chuckled softly with a smile forming.

"what do you like to do to relieve any stress or anxiety?" she asked, trying to regain focus on why she was here. he shrugged, "does hockey count?" he asked genuinely. she nodded, "ofcourse but that is also your job. so anything else that you do outside of work would be a good place to start." she said and he nodded. "i uh like to hang with the guys, um i read a bit, i like to workout and play video games." he said, "but i don't know if those count." he said but she nodded anyways. "ofcourse! anything you do to distract yourself in a healthy way and relieve stress are coping skills, the ones you have are great nico!" she said smiling and he nodded, mirroring hers. "i would stick with those but would not limit yourself to just those. there are so many out there, i can definitely offer some others when i go back into the office monday." she offered and he nodded.

"thankyou, i definitely am feeling much better now. you've relieved a lot of anxiety i had tonight, by just talking and listening to me." he stated and she nodded. "I'm glad nico, i find that talking about things in a safe place can do wonders. and having somebody understand you as well can be beneficial. would you like to come see at some point this week?" she questioned and he nodded. "yeah id like that." he said smiling. the smile he gave everybody closest to him. "great, ill send out a few times for you and we can go from there." she said standing up. he nodded, again taking in her outfit. "sorry, i came right from manhattan so i didn't have time to change." she said feeling self conscious, "nonsense..you look uh, you look really nice." he said. really nice? oh my god, he thought. "well uh thankyou nico, ill see you monday. text me if you need anything else." she said praying to the universe to get out of there as quick as possible. he nodded her walking her back to the front door, he thanked her once more and she slipped out.

_

she woke up the next morning to a text from her boss, stating the he needed to see her in the office today. she groaned as she stood up, her body feeling the effects of only getting 6 hours of sleep. she quickly got ready and stopped at starbucks before heading over there. when she walked into the arena, some of the players had just begun to arrive. she slipped between arena personal trying to get to her office. once she opened it, she saw nico sitting in one of the seat two seats in front of her desk. "ah hi nico, how can i help you?" she questioned setting her bag down under her desk and sitting down. "i wanted to apologize for calling you over last night. it was way outta line and it shouldn't have happened." he said feeling remorseful and guilty for the reprimand she was about to get, "oh uh, no problem nico. its all good." she said trying to reassure him but she could tell that by the look in his eye, it was not. "i have to go see larry, ill stop by and talk to you guys soon. just check in." she said as they both stood up. he only nodded before walking out. she sighed, placing her hands on her hips. what did all this mean? she did not have time to ponder anymore because larry knocked on the door. "hi larry! what did you want to speak about?" she questioned, her hand raising for him to sit down in front of her. he sat down sighing, not sure of how to say what he was about to say. "you're fired miss johnson, i'm sorry i have to do this. but you are not permitted to treat players at their residences." larry said feeling horrible, he really liked miranda but nobody from upper management liked that she did what she did. "wait-what? he was having a crisis! i went over there, besides. nobody wanted to tell me this, tell me what i cannot do?" she said as her heart beat began to rise. he shook his head, "it was in your contract." he stated and she shook her head. "larry excuse my language, but what the fuck? it was not!" she said taking out the contract she kept in her desk. she threw it on the table before them, "you no what no. I'm taking this." she said snatching it up and putting it in her bag. "seriously larry what the fuck. fuck you." she said angrily. she hoisted her bag up and threw open the door, and made her way down the hallway toward her car.

"miranda!" he screamed but she didnt budge. she continued walking faster now, weaving in and out of people. she sighed knowing that she was about to pass the lockerroom and most likely a group of guys playing soccer. "miranda!" larry yelled again, gaining some attention from people. "don't you fucking say another word larry. you guys will be hearing from my lawyer." she spat as she turned around to face him. larry froze taking in the words, and knew she was serious. the group of players looked up as soon as she had said that. all of them confused and looking at one another. she shook her head turning around and continued towards the exit. larry stood there shocked, and mentally panicking. they did not need a scandal to get out, and he quickly made his way out to find somebody in upper management.

°

the one where she confronts nico.

she sat at the bar, sitting next to a friend she had made in her time here in jersey. "i cant believe they didn't even give you a warning! fuck them, I'm never supporting them ever again." molly spat, and miranda chuckled. the two had had there fair share of cocktails the past 2 hours as they conversed. "but that means you can come work with me!" molly added causing the dark brunette to giggle. "we'll see. I'm sure erik would want me to come to buffalo." she sighed. "or ill go back to denver." she said shrugging. molly nodded before swearing, "you are fucking kidding me." she growled seeing some of the devils players walk in. miranda followed her eye sight before the taste of vile hit her throat. "fuck off." she mumbled, pinching her nose. "lets go." molly said looking at her phone calling an uber. "yes lets." miranda sighed, "lets head outside it'll be five minutes." molly said and they both stood up. as they began their dissent out, nico took notice of the dark haired girl. he immediately felt guilty and a sense of dread washed over him. "isn't that-" jack didn't even finish his sentence before nico was off to go talk to the girl. molly and miranda held hands as they filtered their way through and miranda felt a tap on her shoulder as they were close to the door. she turned around and looked up at nico. "oh no not you." she growled but he wouldn't let her leave that quickly. "wait miranda!" he said but she was not in the mood. "what do you have to say nico, huh? wanna let everybody else in the world know that i came to your place last night to talk? huh! you wanna tell explain to them that that was the only reason why i came over? you wanna tell management that that was all that happened? because they think other stuff happened and i'm you know quite disappointed in you, being the captain and all. let me know if you need some help, i know a great captain that can help you out if you need it." she seethed, molly and the rest of the team taking in the interaction between the two. nico felt like an ass watching her as she walked out. he felt like an idiot too for telling a trainer that they had seen each other last night. not thinking anything of it when they asked what he did over the two day break.

°

the one where nico apologizes.

miranda was back in denver by new years, taking on a new position with the denver hospital. she would be working in case management and was happy to be back with her friends and the organization that adored her. she worked part time for the avalanche, after nathan mackinnon begged for her to come on for the rest of the season. he accredited some of his work these past few years to her. even if she was just a student at the time, her advice had helped tremendously. it was right before all star break when the devils came into town and she was dreading the game. she stood down near the entrances that the players used to get to the lockerroom. she was chatting with the head sports psychologist about a research article they'd both read in the past when nico saw the girl. she did not notice him at first but when she heard jack, she knew that the devils were arriving. she turned to look when she heard the whiney voice call her name. barabra the psychologist laughed and then bid her goodbye until after the game. "if it isn't mr hughes." she said crossing her arms, "oh it is me johnson. I'm sure you've missed our gossip sessions." he said cheekily, smiling widely. she rolled her eyes, "not in the slightest, bud." she said smiling just a bit. he grabbed his chest where his heart was, "that hurts." he said causing her to giggle. she saw luke walk in and she smiled to him and he waved back with one. "hows luke doing?" she asked the older brother, and he shrugged. "taking it one game at a time. day by day." and she smiled. "well good, im glad." she hummed. nico stood by jack, waiting to continue their walk together but also hoped there would be a chance to apologize. "well jack, good luck with the game." she said bidding her farewell. he nodded, saluting her briefly before turning back around. as miranda was about to take off, she heard her name. "miranda!" nico called out, his thick swiss german accent sending shivers down her spine. she sighed stopping and turned around, "yes?" she asked curtly. "can we talk..in private?" he asked and she thought for a brief second. "come e're." she said motioning for him to follow. they walked off into a hallway over from the opponent's lockerroom that was deserted. "yes, nico?" she asked, and he sighed. he knew he didn't have much time, "im sorry." he blurted, and her lips turned inward. "im sorry i said something without clarifying what had happened. im sorry i didn't defend you or speak to management. i fucked up badly, i know that and i wish i could take it all back." he said taking in her reaction.

her arms were crossed per usual, her neutral stance. "nico, i-i cant talk about this." she said shaking her head. he knew why, he knew about the lawsuit going on. "yeah, i know. I'm sorry about it though." he said and she nodded. "yeah, thanks." she mumbled. " i really am, you were an asset to our team. larry couldn't crack half these guys in the time he's been here and it took you all of 2 days to. the guys miss you, especially me." he said the last part softer. her eyebrows crinkled, "you made my job easier ofcourse." he teased. "ahh gotcha." she said rolling her eyes playfully. "its unfortunate that you guys are the most affected by this. the constant in and out of psychologists and therapists is not good for the morale and the mental health of the team, so I'm sorry you guys are going through the ever-revolving door." she said and he nodded. "yeah its too bad. i don't particularly feel comfortable talking to any of them." he said non chalantly. alrighty, she thought. "i hope things get fixed soon nico, i really do. if any of the guys need a place to talk outside of larry, i can send some referrals out." she said looking at nico in the eye, and he nodded. "thankyou miranda and again...i really am sorry." he said genuinely. she nodded, "its all good." she said. "good luck tonight, you'll need it." she said grinning as she began to walk backwards towards her team. his face lit up in a cheeky smile one second and in the next she was gone.

°

the one where they confess.

molly and miranda laid out in the sun of sunny hawaii, as by week had finally rolled around for the nhl. molly jumping at the opportunity to join the girl, her brother and her brother's fiance. the two chatted for a while in the sun, sipping on some mimosas after brunch. miranda stood up, stating that she was going to get another. she walked from the private pool area where the villas were and walk towards the main one that had a bar. she took in her surroundings, lots of families, couples, and great, the familiar group of guys from jersey. she sighed hurrying towards the bar across from them, and she quickly ordered another mimosa and a water bottle. she tapped her fingers tapped the wooden bar and took in the slight chill that was coming off of the ocean just beneath them. "holy fuck- johnson?" she heard to her right and she turned to see john marino. "john!" she said smiling softly, "how are you?" she asked taking the mimosa and water bottle from the bartender. "good, good! can never be sad with by week." he mused and she nodded, "no you cant, or else i would knock some sense into ya." she teased and he laughed. "oh don't we know it." he said laughing. "randy!" she heard her brothers name from the left of her, and she turned to see him waving her over. "good luck with the rest of the season and have a wonderful rest of the week." she said before walking off.

she walked towards erik when she heard the group of guys talking loudly, all now looking over to see the girl. nico took in her two piece suit, the soft waves hanging off of her shoulders and the confidence she possessed. "whats up bear?" she asked erik, shielding her eyes from the sun. "dana wants to know if you guys wanna get dinner at 7." he stated and she nodded, "i don't see why not. we didn't have any plans." she said and erik nodded, "see ya bean!" and she smiled, "see ya big bear." and the two went their separate ways. nico watched as she went back to the private area with bungalows. he prayed to the universe he'd see her again.

-

it was 6:20 when molly and miranda went down to the hotel bar before dinner. the two had napped and sobered up since their mimosas and sun time. they stood there drinking some champagne, when molly had left briefly to use the washroom. miranda sat down on the bar stool and took out her phone. she heard the familiar deep voice of the swiss she hadn't seen for a few weeks. she turned to her right and saw him in black collard shirt, black suit jacket and black pants. he looked good, she thought. too good. she turned back to her phone and hoped molly would come back soon. "fancy seeing you here." she heard and she turned towards nico who had a toothy grin. "hi nico." she said setting down her champagne. "what can i do for ya?" she said turning towards him. "well for one you can let me join you." he said boldly and she was taken back, but found her self nodding softly. he sat down next to her, "how are you enjoying your by week?" he questioned, sipping his drink. "its been nice thus far, especially when i'm not the one footing the bill." she grinned and nico chuckled. "i told ej to spread the wealth one time years ago and thankfully he hasn't stop providing." she teased causing nico to laugh again. "all jokes aside, im extremely grateful for him. he just doesn't know how to take no for an answer." she said as nico looked at her. "oh really? so you're not a moocher?" he grinned, and she grinned. "not in the slightest!" she said placing a soft hand on his arm. he looked down at it, and then back at her. she didn't move it, especially not when he looked back at her. she left it there for a few seconds, before pulling away. "sorry, i should probably be finding molly. we've got dinner with my brother and his fiance." she said clearing her throat. nico nodded, a tad bit sad. "well i think she'll be a bit occupied for a while longer. saw john sneaking her into the elevator as i walked in." he mused and miranda's eyes went wide. "no way!" she said, her hand going back to the spot it had just occupied.

"things have happened since you left, that happened quickly after you screamed at me in the bar." he said and her face flashed through guilt and remorse. "yeah...sorry about that." she said biting her lip. he shrugged, "i needed it. it knocked some sense into me." he hummed finishing the rest of his drink. "well now i don't feel as badly." she grinned, enticingly. he looked at her, and she at him. her hand softly moved down his arm, her head cocking to the side. call it alcohol, call it the heat of the moment, or the fact that she'd been thinking about nico since she spoke to him in his apartment. "maybe you could also sneak me into the elevator." she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. nico had a mischievous look on his face, once he realized what she was getting at. "lets go." he said pulling her off of the bar stool by her hand.

as soon as they entered the elevator, nico placed his hands on her waist pulling her in closely. "god I've been waiting for this." he whispered in a husky voice. "oh really?" she teased innocently, catching the heat in his eyes. "hmm mmm. couldn't wait to tell you that i like you...the first moment we met i was a goner." he said as the elevator dinged to his floor. "is that so?" she grinned, feeling butterflies flutter in her chest. "uh huh. surprised you didn't notice that long stares, always finding ourselves in the same area and the smiles i reserved just for you." he said as they entered his room. "i thought you were just being nice, nico." she hummed, placing her hands on his chest. "oh no, only reserve those smiles for the girl who stole my heart one casual conversation at a time." he hummed sliding out of his suit jacket as she began to work on his buttons. "i feel quite flattered, cap." she grinned looking up at him with a glint of excitement in her eyes.

clothes were quickly discarded after that, teasing and many kisses were exchanged after that. "well its a good thing i like you too, nico." she said as she laid in his arms. she looked up at him with a smirk, before he leaned down and kissed her. "how bout i come to denver after the season ends?" he questioned and she nodded. "id really like that, really would." she smiled resting her head on his chest. they looked at one another for a minute more, "now tell me whats going on in that pretty head of yours." she smiled and he blushed. "where do i begin?" he smiled.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

pls like and reblog if you enjoyed, it would mean a ton!

@hischierhaze @nicohischierz @jayda12 @skatesnstuff

#nico hischier #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fic #new jersey devils #erik johnson #john marino #jack hughes #nhl #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #queued post

[comatosebunny09]

Of course, you were nervous when he asked you to have lunch with his mother. It would be your first time meeting her, after all.

You spent the morning fretting over your hair and makeup. Tore through your closet for the perfect outfit to compliment your figure. And only the best flowers would suffice for the woman who bore your wonderful husband and adorable brother-in-law.

Would she even like the flowers?

You were a shaking, sweaty mess the entire car ride. Picked at your nails and some loose threads on your outfit. Kyojuro assured you throughout your journey that you were perfect.

“She would have adored you,” he said, drawing your hand into his on the center console. He squeezed reassuringly, a youthful smile rounding his lips. Though your heart still raged within your rib cage, you returned the gesture. Swallowed thickly as the iron-wrought gates of her home slid into focus, ominously contrasting the endless blue canvas that stretched overhead.

The driver's door slamming shut brought you back to the present. You peered at your reflection in the rearview mirror whilst Kyojuro circled the car to fetch you from the passenger side.

It was now or never.

The path to her home was a quiet one, juxtaposing the war taking part in your mind. It was humid, yet the cool breeze rustling the trees was a welcome combatant for the heat. Birds sang peacefully overhead. Wildflowers sprouted from the cracks of the cobblestone, bowing beneath your feet. The air was stained with petrichor and other scents associated with summer.

Kyojuro held your hand the entire way down, occasionally beaming over his shoulder to keep you grounded. You clutched the picnic basket in your opposite hand tighter as you approached her sanctuary, your heart thrumming in your throat.

A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach.

What if you messed this up? What if you disrespected her and jeopardized your marriage?

You halted in your tracks, slipping out of Kyojuro’s grasp. The intrusive thoughts swarmed above, causing your shoulders to slump. He turned to you with bewilderment clinging to his features, about a foot ahead. Expression slid into understanding as a fond chuckle left his lips. His smile held a somberness that made your heart shrivel.

This was no time to be afraid. He needed you now more than ever.

He closed the distance between you in four strides, dwarfing you as he gently twined your fingers with his. “Do not worry, my love,” Kyojuro said in hushed octaves. “She does not bite. I promise. Though, she might have turned over a few times due to my questionable choices in life.”

His eyes twinkled when you snorted. Cupped your jaw, angling your head towards his for a succulent kiss.

He draped an arm around your shoulders, leading you to his mother’s resting place. Plucked the basket from your fingers, leaving your side to unfurl the picnic blanket. But not before urging you forward with a hand at the small of your back and a wink.

Whilst Kyojuro laid out your lunch, you took up the bouquet he left near her gravestone. The knot forming in your belly slowly unraveled as you kneeled. You released a weighted breath, carefully arranging the flowers by her headstone. You admired the crisp marble with your fingers, reverence coloring your eyes.

A warm hand on your shoulder startled you. You peered skyward, the afternoon sun silhouetting your husband, casting an ethereal glow on the gravesite. Kyojuro crouched beside you, bumping shoulders whilst he mirrored your position.

“Told you she was harmless,” Kyojuro jested, luring a smile to your lips.

“Shut up and pay your respects,” you snickered, clasping your hands together and bowing your head. You side-eyed your husband until he did the same. Silently thanked his mother for birthing such a wonderful human being, wishing you could’ve met her sooner.

#rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny fanfic #rengoku fluff #kyojuro fluff #tw: mentions of death #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro fluff

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Secret

In which Gale asks his lady to tell him a secret. NSFW.

“Tell me a secret,” Gale whispered to his lady. There was a slight slur to his words because of the wine. He’s so adorable when he’s a little drunk. Even more cuddly and snuggly than normal, which is not a bad thing! I love it.

Agnes giggled. “Gale love, you already know so much! There’s very little I haven’t told you.”

He took another sip of wine and placed the goblet down on the little table in his tent. As per their previous agreement, when they were alone, his glamour was off. But that’s not the only thing that’s off. He’s down to his smalls and holding me and kneading my belly and kissing me and oh my fucking gods please Gale don’t ever stop. “My sweet sorceress, surely there is something you haven’t shared.” He kissed her red curls and sighed. “Could be a nice secret. Not anything bad.”

The dwarf closed her eyes for a moment, listening to Gale’s heartbeat. “I…do you remember the night we shared the Weave? The night of the celebration after saving the grove?”

“Mhmm yes, my love.” His free arm continued to hold her to him as he drank some more. “Such a beautiful moment with you.”

Playing with his thick, dark chest hair, she smiled. “Feeling you, feeling the Weave…I knew I loved you in that moment. I mean, I already liked you of course.” She opened her eyes and tickled him a bit. “Even though you insulted me.”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

NOPE. Agnes giggled. “Maybe in a decade or so, love.” Back to my not-so-secret secret. “I knew I loved you that night. I could feel your very essence, and it made me feel safe. Happy. Adored.” She felt his hold on her tighten. “You’re a sweet, wonderful, handsome man, Gale. I only wish I said something sooner.”

A broken sob escaped him as he practically squeezes the stuffing out of me!! GOOD GODS, LOVE! “My love, I had wanted to tell you that night, but the orb…any amount of excitement could have made it unstable. I didn’t want to erupt and kill you!” He kissed her hair and rubbed her back.

Should I? I SHOULD. Snuggling against his chest and still playing with his chest hair, she hummed. “Well, I hope that you’ll erupt inside me later.”

The strangled sound that came out of Agnes’s lover made her giggle. Before she had a chance to tease him just a little bit more, Gale kissed her soundly. He was breathless when he pulled away and cupping her face in his hands. “Lie down, my sweet. Let me take care of you.” His brown eyes were full of emotion. “You take such good care of me, sweetness. Let me love you…” He positioned her on her back and began kissing her neck and collarbones. “Oh Agi darling, you’re so beautiful.” His hands found their way to the laces on her corset. Eyes locked with hers, Gale whispered, “May I?”

“As if you even have to ask.” Agnes giggled. You never have to, Gale of Waterdeep! And the only reason I wear this extremely uncomfortable thing is because it’s hot seeing you unlace me! AND MY TITS LOOK GREAT!

Gale chuckled, his long fingers undoing the laces. “While that may be true, my love, it never hurts to ask. Who knows---there might be a night in the future when you don’t want me fondling your breasts.” Pulling the laces loose, he removed the offending garment and tossed it to the side. His hands quickly grabbed her large breasts, kneading them gently. “Though, I do pray they’re few in number.”

“You and me both.” She teased before she let out a soft moan. “Gale love, please…” Please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.

Those three words seemed to do something to Gale, whose head then dipped and took a nipple in his mouth. Licking and suckling, he was relentless in his very mean and cruel and perfect and amazing assault on his lady.

“G-Gale love, please…”

He released her with a pop, a smirk across his lips. “Please what, my beauty? Please don’t stop? Please continue? Please conjure a mirror image to take that other succulent breast in his mouth?” He leaned back down, his lips barely touching hers. “Please give me your large, incredibly hard cock?”

Trying and failing to rub her soft thighs together because he’s RIGHT THERE, Agnes whined. “For fuck’s sake, Gale…just fuck me already!”

Gale’s brown eyes darkened as he laughed heartily. “Who am I to deny such a heartfelt request from the most beautiful, sweetest sorceress in all the realm?” He lined himself to her entrance and sighed happily. “My love, I’ve been wanting you all day…needing you…”

YOU. AND. ME. BOTH. GALE. LOVE. “A-ah,” she breathed as she felt the tip of his cock slip through her folds. “Is that why you’ve been so handsy tonight?”

Groaning, he nodded quickly. “You arouse me in infinite ways, my beauty. Seeing you cast even the simplest spells…the sway of your hips as you walk…” He gently thrust a few times, moaning. “The way your thighs touch…your generous bosom bouncing as you get excited…your plump lips touching mine when I give you a kiss…” The next thrust was much harder. “The way you come on my cock…Gods, I can’t get enough of you.”

Gale love, this all amazing and I love you so much but MORE FUCKING LESS TALKING. Reaching for his broad shoulders, Agnes pulled Gale down, his lips crashing into hers. As much as she could, she wrapped her legs around his thick waist. Want more contact. Want more of him. All of him. Always. Thrusting up into him, she moaned into his mouth. “So close…” She breathed, gasping for air after their kiss. Feeling his fingers pinch her clit, she came with a small scream on his mouth, her brown eyes meeting his.

He came soon after, several very ungentlemanly but very sexy grunts escaping him as he collapsed next to her. He said he’s afraid of crushing me. I’m a dwarf! I’m tough! I can handle my big, sexy wizard. One hand was over his heart, sweating pouring off him. The other was holding hers. “I love you dearly, my sweet sorceress, but I’m afraid you’re going to be the death of me.”

Turning, she snuggled into his side and giggled. “Who? Me? Your beauty? Hurting you? Never, Gale love.”

“Ha! I never said ‘hurt,’ darling, but if you want to go again, give me a few—”

She pressed a kiss to his chest. “Not tonight. If we were at my house, in my bed…yes, absolutely.” When we get to Baldur’s Gate, I’m insisting on a night for just the two of us at home. I’ll cook him whatever he wants, maybe chocolate chip cookies for dessert, watch the sunset on the roof deck, and then ride him until dawn!

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Or in Waterdeep? I assure you that my bed is quite comfortable---a soft mattress with the finest silk sheets and Waterdhavian feather pillows. Plenty large enough for the two of us.” Kissing her red curls, he heaved a heavy sigh and sat up. “But before we delve into this much further, let’s get cleaned up, shall we? You stay right there,” a long finger touched her nose as smiled gently. “Let me.” He grabbed a cloth and tapped a bowl that filled with water instantly. I love magic. He carefully cleaned her first and then himself. Knowing his preference for modesty, Agnes expected him to put on his sleep shirt and trousers and lie back down.

He only put the trousers on.

She raised an eyebrow as he pulled her into his embrace once more. “Your shirt…?”

He tensed immediately. “O-oh, you want it on? Forgive me, I—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I mean, you usually have on a shirt and bottoms. It’s a…good change.” Good. Great. Amazing. Spectacular. She nuzzled his hairy chest and rubbed his soft belly. I love you so much. My own walking encyclopedia magic bear. I hope this is another little step towards you loving the man you are, not the great wizard you think you should be.

Gale sighed and rubbed her shoulder. “Oh! Well, good then! As I was saying, my bedroom…”

His lady giggled softly, listening to him describe nearly every detail of his bedroom for over a half hour before she poked his side. “Hey, you asked me for a secret earlier. How about one for me, love?”

He did not say anything for a few minutes. “I,” he swallowed thickly. “I…ever since we’ve been together, despite the dire circumstances of said meeting, despite the orb, despite everything else, I’ve been dreaming of the future so much more. Do you want to hear about them?” His voice was tentative, and he seemed a little nervous.

“Of course I do, love.”

With a nod, Gale continued. Breathing a deep sigh of relief. Poor love. “I dream of us in Waterdeep, living in our tower.” Our!!! TOWER!!! Oh goodness, this already sounds perfect. “I have students that come for lessons. After all, every wizard begins somewhere! Not like a certain sorceress who was simply born with awesome power.” He chuckled and kissed her head. “Ahem, anyways, I’ll have students coming and going for lessons. Or maybe I’ll teach at my old university. There was a dream where you brought us sandwiches and treats.” I can picture the dreamy look on his face. “Another you came in as I was doing work with a tray of freshly baked cinnamon rolls,” his lips curled into a smile. “With a small army of little ones following. Each with varying degrees of red in their hair, big smiles, and another one on the way. We ate. Laughed. I told them stories about our adventure, about the Weave, anything, everything. Sometimes you were the one telling stories.” His voice broke a little. “The dreams themselves are so beautiful, my love, but the fact that I can dream about this…that it may actually come to pass…all because of you…I cannot describe what it…what you…mean to me. There are so many words yet all they all seem inadequate for you and what you’ve given to me…to us. I suppose that’s a long way of saying I have the most pleasant dreams of our future, and they make me so happy.”

As he spoke, Agnes’s eyes had filled with unshed tears. She shifted, leaning on her elbow. With the change in position for her, he turned on his side to face her. “Gale love, I promise, no matter what, all your dreams will come true.” She got closer to him, their foreheads touching and their eyes locked. “We will make them happen. Together.”

His lips lazily touched hers, a small smile forming. “Yes, my love. Together.”

#agnes wildheart #dwarf tav #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x named tav #fluff and smut #these other other other two dorks #plus size tav #chubby gale #i imagine this is how most night are with them #gale is buzzed and wants to cuddle...for a while lol #they both really like cinnamon rolls #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

[thiccweebtrash]

Gift for Kalego

She peeked at Naberius Kalego who sat at his desk, seething in rage. His malicious and intense presence was much stronger today. His mood much more grumpy. It was one of two things that caused it, the chairman (her now grandfather), Sullivan, or he was summoned by Iruma (her little brother) in a form he called "degrading and embarrassing" to his clan name, but (y/n) thought he looked quite adorable.

She looked back down where she sat, in her hands was a small blue cactus with a red flower starting to bloom. After over hearing Iruma and Jazz talking about how it was his favorite plant, she decided to get him one for his desk in hope to make her demon crush a little happier. But now she was scared. He looked so upset she was afraid he would snap at her, or just ignore her. However, she swallowed hard and slowly stood up, her heart was about to jump from her chest as she slowly began to treck toward Naberius's desk, the small cactus hidden in her hands behind her back. She internally cheered herself on, igniting a faint and frail flame of confidence.

As she got closer she felt herself begin to shake a bit. It was idiotic, at least she thought, for a human to feel such emotions toward a demon, but yet here she was. She found his constant dead pan face quite handsome. And when he actually smiled she would swear her heart could stop. His appearance was always so clean and he carried himself with pride and confidence, (y/n) found herself admiring him so much. And even if he hid it behind insults, administering extremely hard work and setting high almost unachievable goals, she found it adorable and sweet how he truly cared for his students, even if he rarely let them see it. She heard it in his voice when he'd speak about them to other teachers, a hint of pride at how amazing his class truly is.

"What do you want!" His growl pulled you back to reality and you realized you were standing next to his desk. "Don't hover, I hate it. It's annoying." She gulped, her confidence slowly burning away to ash. "I... I'm sorry." She shuffled, a hurt looked forming on her face as she struggled for words. A long and slightly irritated sigh left his lips. "I don't have all day, of you want to say something say it. If its any request from the chairman he can... nevermind."

She gulped, willing her heart to settle and the red dusting her face to go away. "Are you okay?" He asked, eyeing your cheeks. She nodded her head, anxiety causing her to shuffle her feet. With one last little spark from her dying confidence, she spoke up, "I... wanted to give this... to you." She brought the small cactus forward and held it out to him. "I heard you like them... and so I wanted to get you one for your desk."

His dark eyes looked from (y/n) to the small succulent in her hands, both eyes and his face unreadable. She felt relief to see him relax a bit, his anger looked to slowly fade away, his usual scowl replaced with... her body froze and her (e/c) orbs opened a bit wider. He was smiling? And not his evil, crooked smirk, but a geniun, almost happy smile.

"Yes, thank you." He said. As he reached for it, he placed his hand under the two of yours that held out his present. "Small, and cute, like someone else I know." He flicked her a look, and (y/n) swears she could had died then and there. Did he mean her? It had to be right? Why else would he look at her after speaking. She over flowed with happiness, a sweet smile formed on her lips and her cheeks dusted pink. "I... I'm glad you like it." Her voice was soft. He slowly moved his hand and took the small plant from her hands a placed it on an open spot on his desk.

She turned to head back to her desk, content with her completed mission, a dreamy smile on her face, until she felt a hand on her wrist. She was spun around and was face to chest with the tall demon. His cool lips placed on her forehead, his hands gently cupping her cheeks. Her hands instinctively going to his. "I would appreciate it if you'd help me take care of our little cactus." He muttered agaisnt your forehead, peeking up, you swear you saw him blushing as hard as you were. "Y... yes. But I don't know how." (Y/n) squeaked. He pulled away, his hands leaving her cheeks. She wanted so desperately to reach for them and put them back. Before she could speak, more teachers walked in, Kalego's face went right back to its usual annoyed scowl at the presence of others ruining their moment.

Turning to his desk he quickly jotted something down on a piece of paper and folded it, handing it to her. "Here, this is what Sullivan asked for." He quickly pushed the paper into your hands, "you can go now." He spun you around and gave a gentle push toward your desk. Confused and slightly sad you went back and sat down, looking around to make sure no one was near she hid the paper under her desk and slowly opened it;

I can teach you, meet me at the entrance after school is out.

Your smile was giddy and quickly she looked up in time to see the handsome teacher turning away, his face still a slight red. She watched as he looked at his new plant, his finger lightly tracing shapes into the small pot with an ever so slight smile.

_________________________________________

(A/n: I love these two, they make a great team! I also love this anime and manag! I'm trying my first NSFW with them so idk how that'll work but hey! I'll give it a shot!)

#mairimashita! iruma kun x reader #mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #kalego x reader #naberius kalego #naberius x reader #fanficion #character x reader

[gaiath]

♡Being in a relationship with Jane and Mike in modern day♡...

I deeply apologize for any spelling mistakes!!

Gender neutral

[people I really want to see this: @unsheath @moonlane ](◕ᴗ◕✿)

Their personalities contrast so much and in the best way possible.

Jane is the sight of beautiful doe eyes, an array of trinkets on a window sill, different options of colors in a closet, a beautiful breakfast on a wooden table and gentle music playing on a record player.

Mike is the instinct to worry for those of whom he loves , thunder outside of your window that surprisingly comforts you, a long sleeved graphic tee and memorizing something you mentioned to have liked.

Something that they both have in common is their instinct to protect you, and they act on that instinct.

It doesn't matter what offense somebody did, it's all equally bad. Someone insults you, puts you in danger, tries to pursue you romantically, etc. That person will feel their hellish wrath.

Living in a cozy apartment with them that has enough room for all of you. Jane has her sculptures on several surfaces. Succulents of all colors have their sweet homes on your desk.

Mike also has multiple guitars all over your shared bedroom

He writes songs about the two of you and describes y'all in the most precious way possible. Jane looks at him with adoring eyes while he plays the guitar and let's his voice out.

While you get ready for a date night Jane can't help herself but admire from the doorway. She'll sit down on the bed and watch you go through outfit options.

"I wanna see you get ready" she confesses while staring up at you.

She even writes down how the two of you make her feel. Every memory she will fight wars to remember, things the two of you remind her of, places she'd wanna go together and much more.

Don't get me started on when she learns about marriage.

Whenever inevitable movie nights happen, they take their positions on your body.

Jane has her spot on your chest whilst Mike keeps his arm around your shoulder and a hand on Jane's waist.

Mike's kisses are gentle to make sure he doesn't do something unwanted. He keeps a hand on the back of your neck whilst he does so. There's desperation in this act of devotion and he's not bothered.

Jane's kisses are surprisingly rough but in the best way a kiss can be. She puts both hands on the sides of your face to keep you close . As if you'll melt.

Being with them obviously means meeting their beloved parents.

Hopper has always been more than cautious about Mike but he's softer on you since he actually got to know you and you actually... behaved when it came to pda.

Jane will take the both of you to talk over a nice meal with her father. He put in effort since he hasn't seen her with a permanent smile since... ever!

She's a little nervous because she truly wants him to approve of the both of you. Even if he doesn't, that won't stop her, she's devoted and ambitious.

Now on to Mike! ✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧

Oh, is Karen more than happy to meet the two of you. She prepares a beautiful dinner and gets her best dress out of her closet. The two of you need to know you are now a part of this family and welcomed.

His little sister will ask you questions on if you could play with her and if you know how to braid hair, but, most of the time she's quiet.

Ted will also put his best efforts in since he wants to keep Karen happy. He'll enjoy his food and ask the typical questions!

Overall, being their lover is such an amazing experience. To be with two people that have such unique ways of showing their never-ending love, oh, are you happy you met.

#mike wheeler #mike x reader #mike wheeler headcanons #mike wheeler x y/n #mike wheeler x reader #mike headcanons #jane x reader #eleven x reader #eleven hopper x reader #eleven #stranger things headcanons #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things season four #stranger things

[oneforthemunny]

okay we know what Eddie got nepo!baby for mother's day, but what did the GIRLS get their mother for mother's day?

when they're younger, they always make cards and eddie takes them to pick out something for their mom before. it's literally anything, he lets the girls pick, takes them one by one.

some highlights include, one year persephone picked out a measuring spoon set because "mommy says you use them for your cereal, daddy, and you put them in the wrong drawer." eddie snorts and gets them, and ofc persephone proudly shows you. you just grin bc it's true lol. she's such an eldest daughter tho.

kensington got you a my little pony and got herself one too so you can both match and play. she got you a yellow one because you said it was your favorite color and a happy color, and you absolutely needed one. you keep it in your safe for years to come because it's so sweet.

sienna gets you hair ties with the little bobbles and sparkly puffs on the ends, because you said she looked soooo adorable with her hair like that, and so she got you some too. you put your hair up to match hers one day, and there's still paparazzi pics to prove it lol.

siciliy got you a music box that played 'here comes the sun' which is what you always sang to her. you're not even sure where they found it at, and eddie just grins when you ask him, but it made you happy cry. you still wind it up and play it from time to time.

zarah always got you a house plant. she bought you a peace lily and it's been alive (somehow) for years in the sun room. she added succulents and cacti and others (usually indoor and hard to kill) so your window sill is covered. she'll help you water them too and take care of them.

vega is insane, so she got you corn on the cob holders one year. there was no explantation, eddie really wasn't sure, she was five and adamant you needed them (no one knew why) and threw a fit when you didn't use them that night (there was no corn so you put it in your dinner roll). her gifts, especially when she was little, were all over the place and they were so unexpected and random, they always made you laugh.

as they get older, they try to get more thoughtful obviously, but nepo baby misses the silly little childlike gifts because they were always surprising and sweet. she likes everything tho.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader

[nixie-writes]

Can I request Lucifer and Lilith raising an abandoned demon toddler they found in hell as their own child? When they get a little older, they see charlie and run up to the gates yelling, "Sissy! My Sissy!" And get a little bit jealous of Vaggie for stealing big sister Charlie.

Sure thing, I love this idea!

Lucifer and Lilith raising an orphan demon child

You were only an imp, all alone. Your father left your mother to be with a younger imp woman and your mother fell victim to drugs, eventually overdosing. You had no other family and simply wandered the streets.

It was as you were turning a corner you bumped into a taller figure. You fell on your rear end and looked up to see a ferocious pig demon glaring at you. "You think you can knock into me?!" He snarled. He was clearly drunk. You tried to just side step him but he grabbed you by the horn and swung you around. "Don't try to get away from me you little bitch!" He screeched and threw you to the concrete. He was about to hit you over the head with an empty liquor bottle when a figure too swift to see swept in and threw him into a wall, leaving his imprint in the bricks. Soft arms lifted you up and carried you and you fell asleep.

When you woke up you were surrounded by doctors and fellow imps checking you head to toe. You were malnourished, dirty and covered in wounds. Your body stung from rubbing alcohol in your wounds and you craved the sweet smell of succulent meat drifting from the kitchen. After being cleaned and cared for you were brought a meal of demon meat, milk and candy. You dug in and it was gone in five minutes. Finally a familiar figure entered the room and the maids and butlers scattered out.

"You poor little thing, so bruised and hungry." A sweet voice drifted to you as a tall woman approached you. Her blonde hair reached her thighs and she was dressed in a satin dress that brushed the polished floors. "How lucky my husband rescued you, you would have been dead in a week in this condition." She stroked your broken horn gently and gave it a kiss. "You little thing, you're mine now. Meet your father and older sister."

She stepped aside to reveal a man dressed to the ninth degree in white clothes, an apple-adorned walking stick in hand, next to a bouncing young woman gazing at you brightly. She mimicked her mother in every way except the distinct rosy cheeks she shared with her father. "It's a pleasure to meet you," Lucifer spoke as he approached you. "This isn't my normal course of action but I couldn't leave something as pitiful as you to die alone in the street. I know your mother is dead, I looked into you. No worries, you'll have a better life here." He stepped aside to let the young woman hug you. "I'm so excited to have a little sibling!" She squealed. You gently hugged her back. Was this a dream? If it was, you never wanted to wake up.

***

You peered around the corner of the hotel to spot your sister, Charlie, deep in conversation with her girlfriend Vaggie. You ran up to Charlie, arms up requesting to be picked up. Charlie only giggled and lifted you up. "How are you doing my little monster?" She inquired. You laughed and pulled out some candy. "Sugar rush!" You squealed. You noticed how Vaggie looked away, a little let down. "Vaggie, hug us!" You demanded with a Popsicle smile. She sighed and joined the group hug. "You're lucky you're adorable."

#Hazbin Hotel x reader #Hazbin x reader #Hazbin Hotel x child reader #Hazbin x child reader #x child reader

[freesia-writes]

Chapter 34: Cohabitation

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance. COVER ART BY @zaana!!

Master List of Chapters

A thick stew bubbled cheerfully on the stove, filling the cottage with the rich scents of local game and vegetables. Vel gave it a stir, sprinkling in a few pinches of herbs chopped from her windowsill planter boxes. Winter had fallen across Bendego, and while the seasons were fairly temperate, they were varied just enough to give the full experience of each. A light layer of snow was dusted across the ground, held back mostly by the thick canopy of trees above. Out in the meadow, there was a good few inches of fresh fluff that lay pristine and untouched across the curves of the hills. 

The fire crackled in the hearth, playing its part in the soothing symphony of a cozy home. The light scent of smoke complimented the faint undertones of the heavy wooden furniture, the fragrant plants scattered throughout each room, and the mouthwatering dinner simmering in its pot. Sinking into the plush couch, Vel pulled out her datapad, reviewing the sector of the forest that she had planned to survey the next day. There were plants that only appeared in winter – hardy succulents and fascinatingly thin vines that somehow withstood the season’s chill – and Vel could have sworn she spotted something new beneath a huge fallen tree trunk. 

The door banged open and Tech clattered in, his arms full of wood, a few plants, a backpack, a datapad, and a hat. Vel would have been peeved at the startle it caused her but he was so irresistibly adorable in his thick winter layers that she couldn’t help but smile. As he kicked off his boots and began dropping his items in their delineated spaces, she put the datapad to sleep and rose to her feet, waiting for him with open arms as he finished. The tip of his nose and the apples of his cheeks were red, and as she pressed her lips to his, she marveled at the cold, feeling more and more grateful for her day in. 

“I marked the kalendor sprouts in the fern sector,” Tech said, drifting off as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the rich scents of their home. “But if tomorrow is similarly undesirable for outdoor work, I am certain they will remain identifiable for at least another week. So there is no rush.”

“Thanks. Although… maybe we could both stay home tomorrow,” Vel suggested, tracing an idle finger along the lapel of his dark plaid winter coat. “I can think of some things we could do…”

“I am sure you are an endless fount of excellent ideas, my love, but I assured you I would fix the creaky floor within the month, and there is still ample time in that deadline.”

“That’s not what I was thinking of,” she returned, nuzzling into his neck and placing a few open-mouthed kisses in a trail from his shoulder to his ear. He shuddered, a shaky little breath accompanying his excitement, bringing a smile to her face. 

They had been living together for the better part of a year, and the slow progress of physical intimacy had been a smooth and intoxicating journey of learning each other’s bodies in new ways and growing in deeper understanding of one another. Tech was slow-moving, and Vel wasn’t complaining, as she hadn’t ever got much further than kissing with the couple of people who had shown interest in her. There was an undeniable hunger to dive into the deep end, but the tantalizing pace of Tech’s exploration was as captivating as it was satisfying. But on each of the recent mornings that she’d woken up next to him, the look in his eyes and the weight of his hands as he glided them over her curves had a new intensity that had her shivering in anticipation. 

“Hmm. I have a compelling suspicion that you are attempting to seduce me,” Tech accused, pulling back slightly to give her a mockingly stern look. “And further, to avoid our assigned duties in order to pursue it?”

“You know I’ve always lived life on the edge,” she laughed, unable to keep a straight face at her own ridiculousness, and a smile played on Tech’s face as well. “Okay, okay. I’m just thinking a lazy day with nothing to do but watch the snow fall sounds really good after the last couple of weeks!” she admitted, letting out a little sigh as he kissed the top of her head before turning to remove his coat. 

“I believe this is a fitting situation in which to use figurative language, so I shall agree and say that perhaps it would not be the worst thing in the world.”

* * * 

Dinner was unusually quiet, not between Tech and Vel but in the lack of the company they usually had. The first snowfall of the year may have been enough of a deterrent, but Vel had to admit she was surprised that not even Fives nor Wrecker were there. It was commonplace for visitors to show up unannounced, conveniently in time for dinner, which Vel was growing increasingly skilled at creating. She’d made good friends with a few of the women in the nearby village and had immediately taken an interest in their unique style of cooking with the planet’s bountiful ingredients. 

Their family, as they called the entire group they’d come to the island with, had all been appreciative of Vel’s new hobby and were more than willing to be test subjects for the various creations she would try. Echo had a very “discerning palette” (or he was simply picky, according to Crosshair) and was able to ruthlessly critique anything and everything. Wrecker, on the other hand, found delight in anything and everything, so the two of them had frequent and vigorous disagreements when they ate together. Hunter would often bring some meat; he had turned into quite the mountain man and was some mixture of farmer and trapper that resulted in him always having more food than he knew what to do with. 

“I’m surprised no one’s here,” Vel commented, swallowing a hot mouthful of the rich stew. 

“Hmm,” Tech agreed, “I cannot posit as to why.”

“Teeech…” she said slowly, squinting at him from behind another spoonful. Something about his tone and the nonchalance with which he said it made her instantly suspicious. He looked up from his bowl with the largest, most innocent eyes she had ever seen. Her heart did a flip. 

“Alright, I am certain I could come up with a variety of possible theories as to why our usual rotation of visitors seems to be experiencing a temporary cessation; I simply thought it was one of those ‘rhetorical’ sort of comments.” He turned back to his stew, tilting the bowl to scoop the last bit of the hearty broth into his spoon. That was another odd thing… He didn’t normally eat so quickly. 

“I feel like you’re up to something,” Vel admitted, starting to feel foolish if she had misread him. She nudged his foot beneath the table, causing him to jerk his head back toward her. His mouth was slightly open, eyes wide, then he slowly closed it, assuming an expression of perfect nonchalance. 

“Technically, I am always up to something,” he said pertly, and she guffawed so hard it surprised even herself, causing her to drop her spoon with a clatter. 

“I freakin’ love you,” she laughed, picking up the bowl to drink the remainder. Tech rose to his feet, clearing the table and beginning to wash the dishes in the large white sink while Vel finished. She brought her bowl to him, slipping it beneath the warm, soapy water before wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing against his back and turning her head to rest on his shoulder blade. “Thank you,” she murmured contentedly. 

“I am merely completing my usual tasks,” Tech answered, continuing his scrubbing. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be grateful.” 

“Fair enough.”

“So… you interested in dessert?” Vel purred against his back, hands splaying across his abdomen with a lightly suggestive pressure.

“I believe the answer to that question, in the appropriate context and barring any sickness, handicap, or brain damage, will always be yes,” Tech said, the corner of his lip lifting as he found his own wit quite entertaining. “But judging by the way you are touching me, I must assume once again that you are attempting to… ‘enter my pants’.” 

“Me? Never!” she laughed, releasing him and coming to stand beside him. “And it’s ‘trying to get in your pants’. But I kinda like your version better.” The sparkle in her eyes spoke volumes about the peace and joy that had graced her life recently. She felt ebullient, still unable to fully come to terms with the fact that this was all hers – a beautiful planet, a fulfilling job in nature, a cozy home, and all of it shared with the most incredible man that she never believed she could have deserved, much less won over. But as he finished the dishes with one last cursory wipe of the counter, neatly folding the towel and turning to face her, she didn’t care whether it were all a dream or not. His honey brown eyes were soft and affectionate, and she felt drawn to him like a magnet. 

She slid a gentle hand across his hip bone, settling it on his waist, and sidled forward, tracing a finger across his torso as she savored every inch. Her chin tipped up to bring her face to his, and with a meaningful gaze of gratitude and love, she leaned against him to kiss him tenderly. It never failed to thrill her, the way he would stiffen for a split second no matter how much warning he had, and then he would melt, slowly fitting his form around hers and immersing himself in their shared passion. But this time, after just a short moment, he pulled back, eyes moving quickly as he spoke. 

“I… ah… For a variety of reasons, I am fairly convinced that now is not the best time to pursue… that. As wonderful as it is.” His words were sheepish, and there was that suspicion again… Something was definitely different. Vel’s mind began to spin a hundred different stories of things she could have done wrong, faults he may have found with her, and various other tragedies that were about as likely as Palpatine returning (not likely at all. zero. zip. zilch. none. Zillo baby chewed him up good). She opened her mouth to confess her insecurity but was cut off by the front door crashing open.

artwork by @vimse!

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#tech fanfic #tech fic #tech x oc #romance fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #star wars the bad batch #tbb #tbb fanfic