#and his desire to having a fucking masquerade party

[whollyjoly]

hi im thinking about how mulcahys first thought for hawkeye's birthday party was to do a masquerade party and what possible motivations he could have for such an event

[pursuitseternal]

“Unmask Me:” 🎭 NSFW Masquerade update for “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x f!Reader |E| 4.7K of revealing smut

🎨by @glorious-void 🌹

Summary: Music and masks, dancing and deception. It’s so easy to hide your identity beneath a mask, but for you, as Regent Consort while Lord Astarion is away on his travels, everyone knows you. Everyone wants to be with you, particularly your love and Lord. Once he returns and is unmasked, of course.

CW: Mistaken identities, jealous/aroused Astarion, Dom!Astarion, outdoor sex, playful punishment, spanking, oral sex female receiving, rough fucking and regal engagements afterwards.

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

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Regent Consort. That is your title, at least until your love’s return. You flounce your ebony skirts, that sultry hint of burgundy beneath a little nod to your beloved vampirism. You adjust the many layers of petticoat that fill out your gown. Alone in the ballroom, you pace by the window. Weeks of Astarion away, and he is due to return any hour now.

You know he will be hungry, he will desire you more than anything. He will be feral, wild. Untameable until he’s drunk his fill of your blood and fucked you enough. If he isn’t exhausted from his travels to the far East… alliances and silks from Cormyr and gems and… it was enough of a burden for him to shoulder. You have been left with enough to handle here in the City, his Right Hand to rule in his place, his Regent Consort on his throne. Your tasks have been ceaseless since he left so many tendays ago: Council meetings and trade deals to twist towards your benefit, not to mention cajoling Duke Wyll Ravengaurd enough—enough for him to remain oblivious to the fact that you and your love had far surpassed any authority he thought he held.

You smirk, gazing out into the night’s sparkling darkness. Of course you decided the best course of action was to stroke your old friend’s ego—and nothing touts a symbol of friendship and your own wealth and power like a good masquerade ball.

Of course, it just happened to fall on the same evening as Lord Astarion’s long-expected return. But your heart leaps in your chest, if it could beat faster, that is. Every detail has been carefully laid, and all with his secret knowledge. He approves of this wholeheartedly, those little flashes of his affection quaking down your bond as Master and Bride keeping him informed. You feel his love, his approval and his hunger. Your bond of heart, mind, and blood is enough only to coax his hasty return just a little faster.

His presence had long disappeared from your mind, leaving you without word, his journeys consuming enough of his power to claim his concentration. And so you wait, on baited breath, for his return. Soon, he had said. Tonight.

At long last, your guests arrive in your wide and sprawling drive, carriage after carriage emptying with elegantly clothed couples and painted faces. A parade of colors and paper and decadence. A night in honor of the Duke, a demonstration of the Vampire Ascendant’s immense affluence. The grandest host on the Sword Coast. The most powerful, handsome being in this whole realm.

Yes, you smile, releasing your folded arms to adjust your own demi-mask, Astarion will revel in the extravagance.

Once he finally fucking arrives, of course.

But you force a smile on your face as your guests parade into your presence, all fanfare and pomp and circumstance as befitting a ball for the Duke… as befitting a party hosted by the Vampire Ascendant and his Consort. Couples sweep into the grandeur, each pair, each guest more sumptuously dressed than the one before. You make your way to the head of the dais, your black Demi-mask in place, but you are certain your own scarlet eyes and your fang-toothed smile will surely make certain not a hand is laid on you.

No mistaken identity as to who you are tonight. You are Regent Consort, the Ascendant’s Lady. You are his.

And if your vampiric qualities aren’t enough to drive away would-be admirers, the decadent, gold and bejeweled crown on your head certainly will. A quaint little symbol of the power you tend in his absence. Your eyes scan mask after mask, even as you stand before his throne. Nodding greetings, formally and cordially welcoming guest after guest.

You scrutinize the most gallant looking, the most ostentatious of males. If he were to disguise himself, to play one of his little games with you… surely he would spare no expense on his costume. Even arriving from his travels… it dawns on you now, looking at this primped and preening man. You know why he has gone as silent as his empty grave on his end of your bond.

He’s planning something. A surprise, a seduction. Something that will surely set your slow, undead heart racing and make your folds drench down your thighs.

Once you unmask him of course. There would be… some clue. He wasn’t that clever, never one for details. He prefers to lure you in with honey-sweet words and a grind of his bulge somewhere on your body. Sensual, sweet thing that he is.

Your gaze has grown distant, your pleasant smile fixed on your painted lips. It’s only once the musicians strike up the music that you slowly return to your surroundings.

And it’s only once the drums begin pounding so loudly it shakes in your rib cage that you notice one male lingering at your feet. Richly brocaded damask, deeper crimson than what runs in one’s veins, his costume is breathtaking. Cut so perfectly around his waist and hips, drawing the eye towards that gusset between his thighs.

You quickly raise your gaze, realizing you are licking your lips as you scan this male’s body.

And you’re met with eyes that are so deep set in his golden Bautta mask, you can’t see the color. But you drink in that intensity. That gilded cover hides every sharp, pale feature, even covering his sly and sultry mouth. But all he needs are his eyes boring into you, already undressing you. It’s… delicious.

He would come in regal colors and damask, in a mask that’s inlaid and filigreed with real gold. That feathered cap on his head is a nice touch to hide his telltale silver tousles, as well. Slowly, this man turns towards you, and you can feel it, the way he is drawn to your power, eager to be your thrall.

He wants you, and you know it must be his plan, a master of stirring your body for him alone even in disguise. Feet treading up a stair or two in your direction, he gives an elegant bow, a swish of his scarlet, silken cape as he extends his gloved hand for yours.

Your feet follow him into the mass of people, the center of the dancing as couples begin to form in patterns and forms. Ready to dance.

He doesn’t need to say a word, only giving a deep, muffled laugh beneath that pointed mask as you sweep with your supernatural grace in his hold. A merry dance, one that weaves you around other couples at a clip, one that makes your own silken, gloved hand pass into the palm of every male on that dance floor. Spin after spin, pass after pass, and your flesh practically ignites with each time you cross with your golden-faced lover.

Your mouth salivates, and you wonder why he hasn’t whisked you away to your chambers.

As the music begins to slow, you feel a pinprick at the back of your neck, even as he… the man with the golden mask… your lover pulls you in one last spin. You see nothing in the crowd, but you feel… something. Something hot and sharp, eyes on you from somewhere in the masses.

Then again, all eyes are on you. You and your Lord do tend to turn every head in the room. And you do so as you pull him through the double glass doors and onto the open aired terrace.

Lit by only the moon and stars, you keep your hands on his arm and his waist, leading him as far as possible from the crowds. You don’t even know if the Duke has arrived, nor do you care. You need sating, need to indulge the tension that has flared between you two in that ancient way you always have.

He stops once you both reach the shadows, arms wrapped around your elegant dark dress, its gauze and crinolines dusky burgundy and black as you practically bleed into the shadows yourself. “My lady,” that voice whispers from behind the mask, muted and strange. A trick of his disguise.

“My lord,” you lilt back, taking a single finger to stroke the bare flesh of his neck where it peeks above the bright collar of his jacket. “I need something from you, ever so badly.”

“Then take it, my lady,” he tilts his head, baring more of his pale skin. Your eyes are wide, ravenous. You haven’t fed from living blood since his departure. For his was the only vintage you drank, the only kind that would fill you. Craning your head, standing on the balls of your toes, you lick your lips, barely restrained enough to take a little bit of time.

Your fangs finally bite, and warm, coppery essence fills your mouth… but only after a few swallows does it hit you.

Smack in the face.

Blood strange on the tongue.

And then you feel someone drawing closer behind you, soft footfalls that make your stomach flutter, your bond snapping taught. He’s here at last.

And this man beneath your mouth isn’t him…

“Darling, I’m hurt,” you hear Astarion’s voice, perfectly clear, breath brushing down your shoulders and back, “I thought we had something special…”

You round so quickly, spitting out the stranger's blood from your mouth in utter disgust.

He’s there.

Astarion.

You curse yourself. You should have known… how did you not? He was perfect in his disguise, he was…. Your rogue. Just as he was on those nights in the camp… simple and elegant and mouthwatering. A familiar frilled shirt, ruffles of embroidered silk framing his pale and perfect chest… tightly cinched breeches that hug his every sinew and line of his thighs and bulge. A mask, black as night, gilded with embellishments shaped like the rays of the sun—a little nod to his Ascendant power.

His greatest disguise as the Vampire Ascendant— the Rogue he once was.

But it’s his lips pressed in a hardened smile, his eyes practically glowing with power, swirling with the concoction of jealousy and arousal that makes you tremble before him. Both emotions strike you in your belly, launched at you, a blade from his mind thrust into yours.

You let out a whimper, your mouth fluttering at the sight of him, your elegant rogue, your vampire lover and lord and husband and master. “Astarion,” you gasp, feeling the man’s mortal blood seeping down your lower lip. Gaping in horror at what you have done.

“Tch,” he sucks his teeth, keeping his distance, totally giving no heed to the man who staggers a bit behind you. “Well, darling, it seems you have found your entertainment for the evening already. A pity I wasn’t more forward… more aggressive to catch your… hungering attentions.”

You feel it… knowing he feels it too. Your belly aches to begin feeding once more. “No, no…” you protest, drawing a step closer, wiping your bloodied chin on the back of your sable silken glove.

“Really, my Consort, who am I to deny you your hunger?” he’s hissing. Defensive. Eyes heavily lidded, jaw tweaking as he watches you unravel before him.

“Hungry? Yes,” you pant, a feral need unlocking inside you to be so close to your love, your maker, and yet kept at arm's length. “For you, my love. I thought he was you, Astarion.”

He sniffs, derision seething in that one breath. Disdain turns playfully at his lips and darkens his crimson eyes. “I forget sometimes how new to your vampirism you are, darling,” he chides, none too gently. “You have no idea the pull you have on others… the natural way your charms will command the weakest minds to bend their necks for your teeth. No matter what ignorant fools they are, trying to take what’s mine.”

And with that, he snaps. Uncontrolled aggression embodied, a growl in his throat, Astarion flies at the poor male. His bare hand locks around the other’s bleeding neck. “Get out of my sight, out of my palace… out of my city, if you wish to survive this night, you fool.” His voice is death itself, bone chilling and sharp. And the man waits not one second more before fleeing into the night, back through the crowds.

Turning back to face you ever so slowly, he pulls off his mask, fingers tugging swiftly at the black silken ribbon behind his head. You see it in his face, the darkening of jealousy… but also the arousal in the way his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate so wide. “Well, my treasure, I’ll admit… power never looked so good on another… on anyone that wasn’t me.”

You force yourself to inhale, lungs shaking as you try to breathe. “You’re not… mad?”

“Darling, I am furious,” he hisses, closing in on you swiftly, clenching his grip hard around your throat. “You’ve done remarkably well in my absence in most ways, such a lavish soirée, even I am impressed. But,” he thrust his smirking, snarling face into yours until your noses brush, “you clearly need a swift reminding, darling, of just what you’ve been missing… of what parts of me you’ve missed.”

Grabbing at your hand, he thrusts your palm against his cock, so hard and hot through the well-oiled, skin-tight leather.

“Just like old times,” you rasp under his clutches.

“Tut, tut,” he chides you, all honey in his venom. “Nostalgia for your vampire rogue isn’t going to work on me…”

“Well,” you smirk, rubbing your hand up and down against his twitching erection, “something has…”

His lips crush yours, certainly ruining what was left of your lip paints, licking off the remnant of that poor fool’s blood from your chin, your fangs. And most assuredly, making your lips swell and bruise as he works ravenously in his kiss. He keeps your palm pressed hard on that aching rise between his legs, slow little rolls of his hips against the pressure.

“Watching you touch another… dancing with another… watching your eyes batting at him…” He breaks from his words to dart his tongue inside your mouth, licking again and again until he’s replaced all traces of that offender’s blood with only the flavor of him. “Watching you beckon him into the privacy of your presence… your lips on his skin…” His body seizes, that blend of jealousy and arousal crashing into you again four-fold. “I’ve never wanted to kill and fuck more than I do right now…”

You watch his pale chest heaving, watching every one of his veins beat with his ascendant heart, perfectly perched under his beautiful skin. Head cocking, he grips the ruffled collar of his silken shirt, tugging it wide.

Licking your lips, you feel his command: If you’re starving, daring, then feed.

You don’t need him to offer again, don’t need any other influence on your mind. Your stomach assumes control. Crown tilting askew from the pile of curls atop your head, you bite his warm and tender flesh.

And you bite hard.

Lewd, loud, trembling as if you just came… you moan right under his ear. Your mouthful of his rich, powerful blood almost spills over your lips, but you don’t dare let a drop be wasted. His hand presses harshly against the back of your neck, your curls and pins tugging at your scalp with the force. But you don’t care. Not as one hand grips into his arm to hold him steady, your other bracing on the other side of his neck to feel that raging pulse under your touch. There is nothing now that matters more than his ascendant blood on your tongue and his warm flesh beneath your lips.

“Careful, darling…” he speaks, vibrations from his silken voice shaking your lips. “I can’t be too bloodless to finish satisfying our hunger. Bad form to have the Ascendant unconscious at his own gala.”

One last, long drink and you pull off the wounds from your fangs with a pop. “Yes, my lord, how else do you think I hunger?”

Oh, he catches you by your neck once more, more playfully this time, long fingers wrapping up around your jaw. “What a stupid question for one as clever as you, my pet. You’re going to take my cock so nicely, another nice warm welcome that I know you’re craving too, darling. But first, you’ll pay nicely for your charming little transgression.” He pulls you further from the chaos and din inside your palace, deeper into the shadows. You can smell the gardens below you, the heady scent of blossoms in the air, lilacs and roses and lilies, just over the waist high wall.

And it’s over that wall you feel him spin you, laying you out carefully over its wide edge.

“Bad girl, my consort,” he leans over, his body crushing you from behind slightly to rasp right behind your ear. “Though, it was rather… intoxicating… to watch those lips redden with another’s blood… to scent your arousal so potently at the mere thought of my return. I shall be lenient, my love.”

“You liked it, didn’t you?” you jeer sweetly, a little roll of your ass against where he presses you down into the stone. “Of course, I only indulged thinking it was you playing some cheeky little game…”

He sinks his fangs into your neck, making a sharp cry pierce your words and stutter your voice.

“… should have known your games are much more fun,” you manage to add as he sucks from your veins. One hand grips behind where your crown perches, yanking at the roots of your hair and tugging your neck to a wider angle. And then he drinks quickly and deeply.

“What am I if not fun, hmm?” he purrs beneath your ear, one hand clasped around your wrist, the other begins to lift the pile of your skirts, tulle and silks and crinoline piling high on your back until you feel the night air on the back of your thighs.

Until you feel the breeze on your ass as he slips your undergarments to your knees.

“Feel free to scream, my pet. There is no one out here but us creatures of the night now….”

Smack.

His palm lands sharply on your bare cheek. A gentle rub follows the pain, fingers angling their dexterous touch slightly between your pressed thighs.

Smack.

Harder this time, fully on the other side, he spanks you. And while you grunt, muffled into your bent arms beneath your head, Astarion groans.

Loudly. Full throated.

His hand massages that freshly reddening ass this time. You feel his body bracing along your side, spank after spank making you shake with pain, only to be brush away quickly with his tender touch.

It’s maddening, making your core heat even more than before. Your hips wiggle under his fingers, hoping he might accidentally slip one or two between your folds.

But nothing Astarion does with his skilled hands is accidental or blunt— refined, precise. Perfect. “Feeling sufficiently contrite?” he purrs, moving behind you. One single hand splays on your lower back, the leather of his breeches presses behind you, almost like skin against your bare flesh.

“Yes, sorry,” you mumble into the gauzy sleeve of your dress as you bury your face.

His touch slips just a little between your cheek, your arousal running down your thigh as he spreads you just a little. “What was that, darling? You have been awfully quiet in your penance, you know…”

A single finger, nail first, creeps to where you clit lies. “Yes…. S- sorry,” you groan, lifting your head, turning just enough to see where he crouches behind you. He looks delicious in the moonlight, if you didn’t feel your bond, know your body teemed with undead power, he would look as he did all those nights on the road. That same devious smirk, same glinting, feral gaze that wants to eat you right up….

Say no more… he purrs into your mind, a delicate brush of his power making you shake. Reading your thoughts as you gaze at him.

He slaps your thighs apart, burying his face between them to do just that.

Eat you right up.

That thick tongue of his sweeps from your clit to the end of your seam.

“Scream for me,” he bids you. Your back arches, your head lifting, like a wolf in heat, you howl. Your voice ricochets off the garden wall, followed by another whimpering sound as he keeps that mouth of his sucking on your clit. Fingers spread you wider, thrusting your body back and forth as his tongue slides into your channel, his breath hot each time he breaks to swallow you down. That bliss begins to swell, relief from longing for his body for so long finally within your reach.

Until he stops. And you pant and growl in frustration as that precious wave of orgasm washes out of your reach.

One last, long sweep of his tongue, and he moves out from under you. His hands squeeze hard into your ass, marking your pale, cold flesh with his nails, just a bit. Just enough for him to know you’ll sit with hidden discomfort for the rest of the night.

“You’ve earned my forgiveness, my lovely consort,” he raps, leaning over you, crushing you to kiss against that sensitive spot behind your ear. “And I’ve been wanting to this since the moment I left your bed, my pet…”

Recognition spikes up your spine, you know that warm, blunted head that slowly begins to enter you. Contented. Happy. You sigh and arch to look back, unable to see anything below his chest beyond that ridiculous pile of your skirts over your back. His gaze is fixed on your thighs, watching your folds swallow him up, the little tip of his tongue licking the corner of his mouth.

Sweat gathers under your mask, and you know your tints and kohl and paints are wrecked by now. But you don’t care. No one would notice under your demi-mask. And it was so worth it, to feel him buried deep inside you again.

That paradox of pressure and relief. To be so full and so happy again. A belly sated by his blood, a cunt brimming with his cock. Your delicate fingers grip into the edge of the balustrade, bracing yourself to ride his thrusts. The soft whines of music a merry tempo, one he almost seems to match as he fucks you. You groan, knowing it’s just a taste of the rest of your night, knowing that once your guests have basked in your presence for long enough, you’ll steal away, spending the rest of the night in each other’s arms.

For now he ruts into you, no holding back, no mercy or tenderness now. Just that blind drive to finally join with you after so long apart. If you close your eyes, you might as well be in some clearing near the Emerald Grove, addicted to giving one another your bodies. His sweet words in your ear, little grunts as he fucks with each snap of his hips.

Same cock… same arrogance… same moonlight-bathed faces twisted in pleasure as he takes you from behind. Even the scent of blossoms in your nose… truly just like when you knew nothing more than his charm and his vampirism. And didn’t you come to love all he was… all he became… the same and yet now so much more to you.

“I missed you…” you whisper into his mind, feeling how his body has wound tight through your bond, sensing his cock’s throb, his sensation of how good it feels inside you flooding your own body.

“I know,” he replies, a growl inside your ear, a caress of fangs in your mind. He chuckles into your thoughts, until his laughter turns into real breathless pants as that tension in his body claims its release. He slams into you, once… twice… until all you feel is the twitching head of his cock emptying inside. Leaning over your once more, Astarion places a kiss into your neck one more time. “I missed you too, my love…” he whispers for your ear alone. “Never again, my treasure. It was too long… too many horridly boring, ugly people. Why waste my time with riff raff when I could have just brought you with me.”

“At least you know better now,” you simper, moaning as he pulls from inside you, those skirts brushing over the raw, tender skin of your ass. You hiss, straightening.

“As do you, my naughty consort….” He’s already slipped himself back in his breeches. Bringing you in for a devouring kiss by grabbing your reddened and punished ass. Yelping, you kiss him back, feeling his wicked smirk against your lips. Pain shoots up your spine as he crushes the hard fabrics of your skits against your flesh… nevermind that your undergarments are abandoned on the ground now…You shrug, let them be.

You have no need for them, now that he’s returned.

He pulls you by your hand back towards the gala, retrieving his mask from the terrace, quickly replacing it on his handsome face.

You smile, shaking your head at his antics, his games… his rakish, seductive smirk. Licking your thumb, you clean the lingering streaks of your blood and cum from his chin. “There now, you look presentable, my Lord,” you speak in dulcet tones, regal and refined. “The Vampire Ascendant ready for his festivities, no longer unmasked like some feral, rutting monster.” You wink, a sly smile at him.

Hand braced at the back of your neck, he crushes you once more to his mouth, one more kiss, one more cleaning lick of his own tongue on your lips and chin. “And you, a radiant Regent Consort,” he grins, hands quickly, assuredly straightening your mask and crown. As you turn to enter, he whispers against your temple one more time. “Let’s turn some heads, shall we?” He offers you his arm, a gentlemanly bow at the waist, as if he hadn’t just been ramming into you on the terrace moments ago.

You flash him a smile, head held up high, as you enter the crowd and din and lights. They part like water before you, heads bowing… even the stony-gazed face of Wyll, new Duke Ravenguard, tips slightly in deference. He knows your power, cautious to upend the delicate balance you and he have established.

But Astarion… Lord Astarion… he carries you right past the Duke’s contingent, right up the dais stairs until he’s stopped before your thrones. He stops short, says nothing but a wave to the music to continue the festivities.

They promptly obey, and he sits in his throne… and before you can sidle over to yours, he wraps an arm about your waist and settles you on his lap.

You hiss, the bone of his thigh pressing hard on his bruises and bite marks that riddle your rear.

“Something the matter, my lady?” Wyll’s formal tone hasn’t changed a bit since your days on the road.

You glance up, smiling and demure. He’s grinning politely back, concern in his stone eye. Always that suspicion underlying his gaze, that mistrust of your new… vampirism. You widen your grin and give a little bubbly laugh. Assuaging the monster hunter. “Just so pleased to have Astarion back from his travels. I’ve felt so… empty… without him.” You hide the double entendre with a regal simper and a pat on his chest.

“Not too exhausted to enjoy your evening, I hope,” Wyll asks, pausing a bit too long until he adds, “my Lord?”

“Nothing I can’t manage to savor in spite of it, Wyll,” he jerked his head with a smile, shifting you higher up on his lap, dragging those raw marks to center over his still softening cock. “Now, enjoy your festivities, old friend….” He drags his fangs over the shell of your ear sucking it between his lips, a display of his desire for all to see. “We know we will.”

🌹 thank you to @glorious-void for the fanart, and to my consort coven: @marimosalad and @brabblesblog

[avelera]

I definitely don't need more WIPs right not for Dreamling, but sometimes it is fun to brainstorm a total nonsense fanfic-y premise played totally straight, which is why I'm fondly remembering the Cinderella Dreamling AU I brainstormed on one of the servers.

(Canon Divergence AU, because that's how I roll)

2022 rolls around and Hob and Dream are friends. Just... friends. Hob would love there to be more. He sometimes suspects, more like wishes really hard, that Dream would like more but, as usual, the guy isn't talking if he does. And Hob is too chicken to ruin the friendship they finally achieved to do something so uncouth as proposition his oldest friend.

He comes to the sad and perhaps inevitable conclusion that Dream has had all the chances in the world to say something so the only conclusion is that Hob's just not that interesting to him in that way. Stands to reason. The more Hob learns about the Dreaming and Dream's fantastical realm and all his adventures, the more Hob's almost single-minded dedication to living a normal life despite his immortality seems a bit... dull.

Enter Desire. Or Death. Or both. This is fanfic-y nonsense, after all, the point is there is a device and the device is our fairy god-person who is also sick to death of watching Dream pine from afar but is also a huge fan of chaos.

They (let's go with Desire for now, even if the trope is a bit overplayed, because it seems like their sort of thing) offer Hob a proposal. The chance to go into the Dreaming each night to woo Dream. Best of all, it will be with Desire's protection of his identity and a small amount of magic to create a persona for wooing Dream that won't be immediately obvious.

Oh, also, Dream is throwing a big fuck-off bash for Faerie or some other Dreaming ally so there's gonna be a party for weeks up there. Perfect place to slip in a new stranger. (Hob is a little charmed by the idea that he gets to be the stranger for once.)

Enter: the Knight of Roses.

Basically, Hob creates a persona into which he pours all of charm, wit, and courtier's polish from 600s years of life. If nothing else, he's having the time of his life at what is essentially a fancy magical masquerade ball where he gets to try his damndest to sweep Dream off his feet.

And it seems to be working. Hard to tell with Dream. But each night, Dream seems excited to see the Knight of Roses again.

(It is working. It's working very very well. The Dreaming is awash in flowers. Dream spends every waking moment he's not at the ball pacing his quarters, interrogating his subjects as to how in the world he can't get to the bottom of who this is, and every person who could nominally be considered his friend including his siblings and subjects are tearing their hair out with how sick they are of hearing about the Knight of Roses.

Hob doesn't hear about it though in the waking because Dream is in love with him and doesn't want to ruin any chance they might have together someday by agonizing over a mysterious guest who is probably some trick sent by Desire or Lucifer or someone to mess with Dream. He has no idea how right he is and how wrong he is not to bring it up to Hob.)

Secret Identity shenanigans ensue, of course, until we hit a breaking point with drama, tears, etc etc the usual for the trope because of course (gasp!) Hob is the Knight of Roses and there never was any need to create a separate persona because Dream was also agonizing over whether Hob was interested and Hob was so chill around him he assumed he was misreading all the signs. (Hob was working so, so hard to appear that chill around Dream.) Identities are unmasked and everyone lives happily ever after.

(But Hob is keeping the outfit once they're officially together, because Dream really, really liked the romance of the whole Knight of Roses identity but he likes it even more now that he knows it's Hob and not an evil trap laid by one of his enemies.)

[causeilikelix]

Stray Kids Soulmate Smut Au Series

Member Scenarios (warnings tbd)

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for the whole series or just individual fics, please leave me a comment or shoot me an ask!

I have no posting schedule at the moment, all I know is that I'll be writing Felix's last because I know myself and I'll get carried away.

Synopsis under the cut:

In the magical world of soulmates, you can begin looking for them when you turn 21. Once you touch them, the overwhelming urge to consummate the union takes over you until you fulfill the desire.

Bang Chan (18+)

Bodyguard x bratty, younger ward au

Chan is your bodyguard who is determined to keep you out of trouble and protect you from those who want to use you to get to your rich and powerful father.  The only problem?  Trouble is your middle name.  Going out to clubs and getting random guys to grind up on you is one of your favorite pastimes and Chan has to go along with it.  You love how he gets gruff and protective when other people put their hands on you.  With your 21st birthday creeping up on you, these outings get more dangerous since anyone could be your soulmate.  On the fateful night of your 21st birthday, you go out to dance and when you dance with the wrong person, Chan isn’t so sure he can keep his hands off you much longer.

Minho (18+)

Prince x Maid, Bridgerton era au

Part One: 

Everyone in the ton is invited to the final tea party before the Queen announces who will be the lucky lady betrothed to Prince Minho.  Everyone except the help, of course.  It is the final opportunity for eligible ladies of age to meet with the prince to determine if they are soulmates.  The lady you work for has managed to get you into the tea because she’s not interested in the prince and would rather spend time with you.  Bored, you wander around the gardens and you run into a young man who also seems to want to escape.  After some banter, you touch accidentally and you realize this man is your soulmate.  Once you consummate the union, you have to rush away to find your lady in time for the introduction of the prince, only to find out that you just fucked him behind a hedge.  And how he can’t take his eyes off you.

How will you survive if he’s supposed to marry someone else?

Part Two:

Prince x betrothed sister, 40s Italy, past lives au

You are a noble lady who is not quite ready to enter society, being just under 21.  Your older sister, however, is out and your family is in talks with the royal family to betrothe her to the prince if they cannot find his soulmate by the final masquerade ball of the summer.  Luckily, you have no interest in marriage or soulmates, mostly because you think you’ve found yours already.  

In a lonely bookshop that very few frequent, you’ve been sharing secret notes with another reader of your favorite poetry book.  You can’t remember how it began, but all you know is that you have been corresponding anonymously with someone through notes hidden in books and you may be falling in love.  Your multiple attempts to discover the identity of the person have all failed.  Including promising to be at the bookstore on your birthday instead of at the ball.

On the night of the masquerade and your 21st birthday, your sister discovers her soulmate in someone else and begs you to take her place.  You’re torn but ultimately agree.  You dress up in your sister's gown, don your mask, and attend.  While you’re there, you see Prince Minho mingling with other guests and when you lock eyes you get the sinking suspicion that you’ve met him before…

Changbin (18+)

Brothers best friend x reader college au

 Your older brother, Chan, and your neighbor, Changbin, have been best friends since they were kids.  You were just Chan’s little sister for years so you thought that Changbin would never look at you twice, which made your crush on him that much more difficult.  Especially since you eventually developed a friendship with the three of you. Halfway through high school, your family moved away for your dad’s job but you went back to college in your hometown.

Low and behold, you run into Changbin again and your friendship picks up right where it left off.  The two of you reminisce and he invites you to his place to play Mario Kart and watch Jurassic Park, just like old times.  The entire time you’re at his apartment Changbin is nervous around you and you wonder why until you beat him at Mario Kart and tackle him in victory. 

Changbin finds himself torn… between his soulmate and his best friend.

Hyunjin (18+)

Rich CEO x Assistant reader au

You and your boss have been exceedingly careful.  Hwang Hyunjin is rich and successful and gorgeous and every single woman in his company envies your position, allowing you to be close to such an immaculate being.  You, however, find it very stressful.  Since you’re both successful adults who haven’t yet found your soulmates, you have to be very careful and go to extreme lengths on occasion to keep from touching.  You can’t let love get in the way of your work.  It doesn’t stop you from trying to quietly entice him.  You often wear borderline sexy outfits to work with the hopes that one day your hot boss will finally touch you to at least see if you’re soulmates, but he’s so hot that you can’t help but feel aroused in his presence.  You simply wouldn’t know until then. 

One day, Hyunjin has a photoshoot and interview for a high fashion magazine and he looks incredibly delectable.  You stay nearby in case he needs something but you keep to your own work.  While he’s getting pictures taken, the director gives him a prompt and asks him to think about something that makes him hot.  The director wants to sell sex for this collection.  When you look up, Hyunjin is staring straight at you and you are not sure how much longer you can keep your hands to yourself.

Jisung (18+)

College student Jisung x slightly older college student barista reader au

Han Jisung is the bane of your existence.  You’re both in the same major so you take a lot of the same classes and it’s as if he made it his personal mission to annoy you every time he sees you.  He must, because he does.  He does it in small ways, like asking you dumb questions during class just to get you riled up, stealing your pens, and overall being a nuisance.  Why does he pay so much attention to you?

One day while you’re working at the coffee shop you’re the manager of, Jisung comes in for some coffee and specifically requests for you to make it.  Despite the fact that you’re absolutely slammed, you have to comply.  You make his drink and pass it to him, not realizing that your fingers brush in the process.  Jisung’s demeanor changes immediately, instantly getting a little more serious.  You continue working through the rush, wondering why suddenly you feel the intense urge to rail Jisung into the next century.  

Closing suddenly can’t come fast enough.

Lee Felix Yongbok (18+)

Professor x graduate student au

Professor Lee’s class is one of the most coveted on campus.  It fits into multiple fields of study and even the undergrad students desperately want a chance to take a class with him, even though he only teaches at the master level.  You finally get a chance to take his class, lucky since it’s required for you major, and you realize why everyone wants to take his class. 

He’s intelligent, he’s fun, he’s charismatic, and he’s positively stunning.  He’s easily the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on.  And even you you’re initially hesitant to act like all the other students in the class and fight for his attention and a chance to touch him just to see if he’s theirs, you find yourself dressing up as well.  Not to impress him!  Not at all.

One day during class, he asks a few people to collect the paper that is due and you happen to be one of the people he calls on.  You gather the papers and ignore the ugly looks from all the others who wish they were in your position.  Professor Lee is teaching with no care in the world until you trip on the bottom stair.  Papers go flying and your cheeks burn.  Professor Lee gasps and helps you gather them while making sure you’re okay.  

Without thinking, you reach for one of the papers at the same time and your fingers brush.  Felix looks at you, eyes dark and he dismisses class without looking away from you.  The class is silent for a moment before he finally tears his eyes away from you.  His demeanor changes and he tells the entire class to leave unless they want to fail.  You begin to scramble away to follow his orders like an obedient little girl but you freeze when he locks you in his gaze again and rasps: “Not you.”

Seungmin (18+ suggestive)

Lawyer x Lawyer au.  Suggestive, no full smut

You and Seungmin have been rivals since law school.  Always trying to best each other in your final grades, who got to be valedictorian (it was you), and the most important: who wins the most cases.  For years, you two have been working for different law firms in the same building and have been keeping a tally of who wins what.  

One day you are pitted against one another in a heated divorce case.  Not your usual type of case, but you took it in order to be against Seungmin.  The case is emotional and dramatic and you find yourself arguing so intensely that the judge orders a break.  You both storm off to the break rooms to console your clients but the hallway is too narrow and for the first time in all these years, you brush arms.  

The arousal is instantaneous and you look at each other in equal surprise.  You each go to your separate chambers to calm your clients down before you excuse yourself.  You seek him out, looking into each office until suddenly someone grabs your arm and pulls you into an empty conference room.  

Of all people, why did it have to be him?

Jeongin (18+ Suggestive)

Tattoo artist x client au.  Suggestive, no full smut.

You are too innocent for your own good.  Jeongin recognizes this in you the second you walk into his tattoo shop in your short pastel skirt and matching top.  You ask him if he has time to do a simple tattoo of a line-art flower on your thigh.  Obsessed with you already, Jeongin quickly reschedules his next appointment and invites you in.  As the only artist in his shop, he can pretty much do whatever he wants.  The walls are covered in his art and you know you’ve come to the right place.  You discuss the tattoo you want, you fill out the paperwork, and sit down in the chair while he prepares the stencil. 

The second his fingers graze your thigh to put the stencil on, several things become apparent to you all at once.  First, he’s the hottest guy you’ve ever seen.  Second is that this hot guy is your soulmate and you can tell by the stickiness growing between your legs.  The third and most important thing?

You forgot to put on underwear this morning.  

And Jeongin?

He can definitely smell it.

[vampiric-hunger]

⊱─ 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: 𝕔𝕙. 𝟞 - 𝕖𝕟𝕧𝕪 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘:Ascended Astarion/f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, jealousy, arguing, asphyxiation, bondage, breast play, dubcon, underwear as a gag, smut, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, teasing, PiV, praise kink, vampire bites, caught while fucking, creampie.

➺ 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: you're skilled, driven and most importantly - ambitious. but even as someone in your position, a trained assassin and a leader of your own Guild, you still lend yourself to jobs that are of importance. even if those jobs sometimes mean attending parties. tonight - it's a masquerade and you're bored out of your mind, until the man who hired you to protect him leaves you alone, at the mercy of a stranger who suddenly took a keen interest in you.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 6,407

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: and we're getting close to the end! what a ride so far! i loved writing this chapter because writing jealousy and envy is always a lot of fun for me, but i digress! enjoy ♡~

➺ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: [link]

Upon your return you didn’t have a chance to send Astarion a message of any kind because the day after you came back the Duke himself demanded you accompany him to a celebratory ball. It appears one of his generals performed well in battle while you were away and begrudgingly you agreed. It would not do you well to scorn the ruler of Baldur’s Gate.

But as you are preparing for the ball, finding your finest dress and making sure that it’s clean and ironed, you wonder if you really have no time to send a message or if you simply don’t want to.

The answer comes simple – you don’t want to.

Not because you regret what happened in this very house two weeks ago before you left on a assassination mission to kill Princess, as you code-named her for secrecy, but because the thought of him turning you into one of his spawn haunts you.

He didn’t tell you that he abandoned the idea. No, he said nothing about that at all. And that’s something you cannot ignore.

While you dress and doll yourself up, you keep thinking about it, about the idea of being his like this and you realize that you really don’t want to be his thrall. That you don’t want to be his to command whenever he wishes. It’s already hard to assert yourself without that and how he cast Dominate on you proved exactly that without a shadow of doubt. It hangs heavily over you like a dark cloud, threatening to erupt in rain at any moment.

You know that before you see him next – you need to think, a lot. You need to figure out a way to give yourself what you want without giving Astarion what you are sure he will ultimately seek: your eternity.

When you finish preparing by hiding some smaller daggers on your person, you hear a carriage and a sound of horse hooves coming closer. You suspected that the Duke will send someone to pick you up to ensure that you show up. You find the man extremely predictable if not slightly paranoid. You don’t have an issue with that, you rub elbows with paranoid men every day.

The trip to the city center doesn’t take too long but you use that time to keep pondering upon the conflict in your mind and heart. Yes, you have to really and truly admit to yourself – you like Astarion. And it stretches beyond just carnal desire or the thrill of danger. You don’t even know why, you can’t answer this, what it is that exactly draws you to him like a moth to the flame, you just hope that the flame won’t consume you. And as you watch houses and people pass by the carriage window you feel a knot of dread in your stomach – you’re playing a very dangerous game with a man that holds unforeseen power in his hands.

Is risking your life really worth it? For something that could be just a fleeting fancy for either of you? And yet you realize that it’s too late for this already. While the carriage navigates the streets and begins slowing as it approaches a massive mansion in the middle of the city, you understand with a sinking feeling that you should’ve been honest with yourself and had this ‘conversation’ with your inner self before Astarion showed up at your house. But you didn’t know then that you will agree to… what exactly did you agree to? Another tryst? No, it didn’t feel like this sort of transient proposal from him. Not a relationship either, surely, too early for that, all you two did so far was fuck and shout at each other, a proper pissing contest between two very prideful people. Then what? You have no answer to that and have no time to think about this further as the carriage stops at last and the door opens, revealing the Duke in his best ensemble, offering a hand to you with a smile.

“Good evening.” he greets you before you take his hand and your skirts as you climb out of the carriage.

“Good evening to you too, Duke Sanolin.” you smile, easily slipping into your role of a perfectly pleasant, well-mannered noble woman. You don’t hate the role, but your words feel empty and shallow even when you greet the Duke.

“I take the road here was pleasant? City planners made sure to increase quality of the roads leading out of the city. Merchants have easier and swifter time traveling this way.” Duke starts boasting and you nearly recoil when you notice him offering you his elbow, but you just squeeze out a smile on your face and hook your arm exactly how he wishes.

You don’t reply because he doesn’t need you to speak. You are here to stay close to him as he mingles with patriars. You are here to look pretty while you discretely protect his life. You are here to smile and to nod and to be vigilant. Oh how you loathe these jobs.

However, when Duke Sanolin leads you inside and servants greet you both, offering wine and small snacks on silver platters, you scan the guests and see nobody you should keep an eye out on. There are some dangerous nobles among the masses of them in Baldur’s Gate. Some of them have relations with other Guilds, some are simply unhinged and unpredictable, some have grievances and revenge on their minds, but tonight you see no familiar faces, faces that you have memorized for safety. This makes your shoulders relax. Sure, someone undesirable might come yet, rich people are rarely punctual, but for now you feel more at ease than you expected yourself to be tonight.

And Duke is not some secretive heir like Lord Goldbrith or a boasting sex addict like Lord Witdale. No, Sanolin is a very educated man and a very social one to boot, so the moment you two enter the main ballroom, he quickly becomes surrounded by ladies and lords alike. Everyone wants to be on his good side and you too get acknowledged as someone who is accompanying him tonight, asking where his wife is. When Duke explains that his wife isn’t feeling well thus he decided to bring his ‘niece’ with him, most seem to stop questioning your presence, although you do notice a suspicious glance or two from those who don’t believe Duke’s innocent lie because they don’t know who you truly are, which is not that many of them, you suddenly realize. This party seems to have been assembled from people who rub elbows with the ruler of the city very closely, including yourself, and that makes your job easier – protecting someone of this importance is near effortless when he’s surrounded by his allies instead of enemies.

And then something dawns on you – could Astarion be here? You immediately begin to look around watching for signs of him, but so far you see nothing, yet it still doesn’t alleviate the panic beginning to claw at your chest and throat. You don’t like feeling paranoid but this is exactly the feeling that now overwhelms your mind, making your hands shake slightly as you hold the glass of wine and take small sips from it while keeping your eyes on the crowd as Duke Sanolin is talking to his political allies with you at his side.

You don’t fear Astarion, not really, you’re too proud for that, but what do you fear is a scene that he could cause if seeing you back instead of getting a message from you informing him about your return could lead him to anger. And you already know that Astarion’s anger can get pretty explosive with no regards to anyone around him unless forced to stop and think better.

For an hour or so you feel rising panic trying to replace all other senses in your mind and body, but thankfully Sanolin doesn’t notice anything, chatting away about things that dull your mind: trades, fashions and council meetings. Nothing useful for you to pay attention to. And when you finally feel like you can relax, that Astarion might not show up, you freeze, paralyzed with near animalistic fear when you notice him entering with a loud laugh, teasing the servant and making the young man blush.

Shit.

You turn your back to him and try to blend in with the nobles chatting up the Duke, trying to hide behind his own body and you empty your glass of wine in one gulp to calm your nerves. What is wrong with you? You faced enemies and threats bigger than Astarion’s possible anger for not receiving a simple note from you, but you immediately understand why – because you want to be with him and you feel like you betrayed whatever fragile start you two agreed upon those two weeks ago.

“Good evening, my dear.” you hear Astarion’s all too familiar voice croon behind you and your fingers clench the glass so firmly that you have to remind yourself to relax before it shatters in your hand.

You slowly turn to him, not bothering to plaster on a fake smile, and his crimson eyes immediately locks onto yours. Duke and his allies fall silent at the greeting and turn to Astarion as well, making minstrels that the host hired for tonight seem unreasonably loud even though that’s far from the truth.

“I was so hoping to see you tonight.” Astarion says and you hear traces of poison in his words, you notice the cold edge in his smile and hardness in his eyes.

“You know my niece?” Duke interrupts the stare-down and Astarion turns to the man, shaking his hand.

“Duke Sanolin, delighted to see you tonight. And yes, I do know your niece.” you near flinch at vampire’s emphasis on your fake title and you look at Duke, seeing that he and Astarion are exchanging some silent understanding, most likely about who you really are, the hired assassin.

“She’s a delight, isn’t she.” Duke smiles at you now and you feel his hand on your lower back as if trying to reassure you, it makes you feel like your heart is being squeezed and a flash of sorrow replaces your anxiety with the wish that your own father was ever this comforting. Alas, you quickly discard the self-pitying thought and smile back to him.

“I’m glad to be here tonight, surely.” you speak and sense Astarion’s gaze burn into you, but you pretend that you don’t feel it or see it.

“Duke Sanolin, would you mind if I stole your niece for a moment or two? There’s something I want to ask her about her… mother.” Astarion pauses as he tries to think of a lie on the spot but since Duke is perfectly aware of your line of work, after all that’s exactly why you’re here, he just gives Astarion a curious look and nods, his hand leaving your back.

“Just for a moment.” he says and Astarion laughs, waving his hand dismissively.

“You’re a powerful opponent in a fight, Duke, I’m sure you don’t need a small girl like her protecting you, do you?” Lord Ancunin says with a taunting grin and Sanolin narrows his eyes for a moment, but when his companions burst into lighthearted laughter, he relaxes and laughs along.

“Very true indeed. Go ahead then, steal my niece away, but I want her returned, sooner rather than later, she’s here to observe and to learn.” Duke lies with such conviction that you wonder if he’s becoming delusional, but you understand that maybe this is exactly why he’s a Duke – a good politician knows how to lie without a shadow of doubt in his own words.

Yet you don’t want to go with Astarion. Even when he pulls the empty glass out of your fingers you look at the Duke with questions in your eyes that you hope he can read.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t stay and… observe the conversations?” you ask as the men surrounding Duke now simmer down to chuckles and Duke pauses, then glances at Astarion, noticing his impatience. “I’m sure you won’t miss too much if you’re away for ten minutes or so.” he nods and your stomach clenches but you nod too and inhale deeply before you look at Astarion again, his gleeful expression looks more dangerous than actually happy to you, yet you don’t say another word.

“I will return her shortly.” Astarion ensures Duke Sanolin and when Duke nods to him as well, he briefly licks his lips. “Follow me.” the vampire gestures with a turn on his heel and begins leading you through the crowd.

With leaden feet and arms just as heavy you follow him, preparing yourself for the confrontation. The crimson daggers he was shooting at you the entire conversation, despite how brief it was, make you easily understand that Astarion is angry. Maybe not as angry as he was when he visited your home, but close enough to make you worry about what’s to happen.

The moment main crowd is behind you both, Astarion pauses and turns to you, then grabs your wrist and begins dragging you after him, ignoring servants and several scattered nobles loitering by the ballroom walls as you barely can keep up with him, your skirts burdening your steps.

“I can walk on my own!” you hiss behind him, not wanting to draw even more unneeded attention but you get ignored while Astarion navigates the hall, pulling you deeper into the bowels of the mansion until he arrives to the end of the corridor and pushes open the door.

You try to glance back, to see if anyone is watching, but don’t get the chance when Astarion pulls you into the room with enough force to make you stumble forwards, especially when he suddenly releases your wrist. When you spin around to face him, you watch him slam the door shut and turn the key in the lock, the snap of it sounding like a thunderstrike in the silent room.

Quickly you realize that you’re in party host’s private study as your eyes catch upon tall shelves, shields and paintings adorning the walls. The desk that you nearly ran into, that is now behind you, was empty when you briefly saw it and now you see two full armor knight suits by each side of the door.

At last Astarion turns to you. His expression is a deep frown and he tugs on the sleeves of his bejeweled white and silver attire, then smirks.

“So you’re back.” he starts and you open your mouth to reply but he swiftly raises his upturned palm to you, silencing your words before they leave you. “You’re back and you didn’t even bother telling me. For how long?” the vampire steps towards you and you move backwards away from him, not yet noticing that you’re doing that.

“Last night. I returned only last night and then this morning Duke’s note came.” you hear yourself rushing to explain but Astarion scoffs, his smirk wide and sharp and then it becomes even wider when you bump into the desk behind you, leaving you with no other place to retreat to.

“So instead of sending me a short, quick message that I know you are capable of, instead you prostrate yourself in front of all these rich politicians like a whore begging for attention. I thought I mattered to you more.” he taunts with fire and brimstone in his every word and you begin to feel sweat beading your forehead. Why are you so stressed about confronting him right now? You have no answer.

“I didn’t know I was married to you.” you bravely taunt back with a crooked grin, your palms grasping the edge of the desk and gripping it tight like it’s an anchor to a ship at sea because that’s exactly how you feel right now, lost in the storm that is about to crack the sky wide open.

Astarion pauses his steps at your words, his smirk faltering for a precious moment, then he tilts his chin upwards ever so slightly and takes couple last steps to end up right in front of you, just mere inches away, so close you can smell his perfume and see the dim light reflected in his irises from the few lit candles in the room.

“Would marriage be more preferable than becoming my spawn?” he asks and here it is, just as you suspected it will be – his desire to turn you into his thrall. You knew that he won’t give up the idea easily and you frown, finding your anger.

“Neither would be preferable. Look how you are acting! I do my work but you have the gall to insult me? Call me a whore?” you shoot back and straighten your back, your eyes harden as they look at him and Astarion’s own eyes narrow at your words.

“You told me you wanted me, to be with me.” his voice is dangerously low as he speaks but you don’t care, because what can he even do here, in the home of city’s general, with Duke not far either. Assured that Astarion wouldn’t risk exposing himself by hurting you - you feel emboldened.

“You came into my home and Dominated me, you bastard!” you raise your voice and Astarion’s hands twitch like he wants to do something, to strike you or maybe silence you. You don’t care either way.

“I didn’t force you to say what you said! You wanted it! You admitted it! Now you’re pretending like you haven’t said a word?!” Astarion’s own voice raises as you shout at each other now.

“I’m not pretending! But you’re insane if you think I will drop everything and just run to you the moment I’m back!”

“Why not?! Is carousing with these old cads that much preferable than coming to me?! You take their money so that they can roister with other fat slobs and you try to tell me that’s not what being a whore is?!” Astarion points his finger at you as he shouts, his features twisted in anger and you slap his hand away from your face.

“I’m not fucking them, you spoiled idiot!” you snap back and Astarion’s hand shoots up, his fingers wrap around your throat and start squeezing it.

“But what if you are?!” he hisses at your face while you try to pry his hand off your neck and it finally dawns on you – he’s jealous, isn’t he. He’s jealous because he saw you with the Duke.

“Let go.” you manage to croak with Astarion barely letting you take in any air while your nails scratch at his hand leaving marks, but it’s like he doesn’t even notice that, his crimson eyes blazing with fury and envy that you chose your work over doing something as small as letting him know you’re back.

“No. It’s time you learn once and for all – you are mine.” a wicked grin suddenly appears on his face and while you try not to panic at all the possibilities that can happen, you feel Astarion use his other hand to pull the dress off your shoulders in several harsh yanks, the seams straining and snapping.

“Astarion, what do you think you’re doing.” your voice is coarse, barely a whisper but he’s not even looking at you.

He’s holding you in place by your neck while he moves the dress down your arms, making you release his wrist when the fabric begins cutting into your skin, the garment then is moved lower, your breasts become exposed and you grit your teeth while Astarion moves the top of your dress to your waist, making sure that your wrists are still in the sleeves, binding them to your body this way.

“I know you want to be mine. You can’t deny it, I can hear your heart beating fast and not from fear, little assassin. I’ll show to you just how badly you want to belong to me” vampire responds with a degree of calmness in his voice and when his eyes finally raise to your face, he notices a traitorous blush on your cheeks. “You’re so beautiful when you are forced into submission.” he whispers and you part your lips to speak but stop when you feel the heat of his palm on your breast, fondling it, squeezing it, then his fingertips find your hardened nipple and pluck at it, making you gasp ever so softly with your neck still being squeezed. Your body responds to the rough teasing, desire begins to uncoil in your lower abdomen and for a moment you hate it.

“Stop it!” you manage a whisper and finally Astarion’s fingers on your neck relent, letting you inhale more air but also making you slightly dizzy in the process. You try to remove your hands from your dress sleeves, feeling like you’re being shackled but Astarion interrupts your attempt by harshly kissing you on the mouth.

Your lips were parted as you were gasping for air and he wastes no time to slip his tongue into your mouth. You try to lean back from him but all you achieve is Astarion biting down on your lower lip just for a moment and grabbing your hips, lifting them so that you drop on the desk on your back with a thud. You lift your head to look at him and notice his eyes scanning your exposed chest while he moves your body for you, pushing it more onto the desk.

“What do you think you’re doing! It’s host’s office!” you hiss with both anger and slightly panicked concern that someone might come looking for you, sooner rather than later, but it’s like Astarion doesn’t hear you.

Annoyed that he’s treating you like this you try to free your wrists again only for him to grab at the fabric in a way that it brings both of your hands together and he tsks at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment while he grins.

“Don’t struggle little assassin, you know you want this just as much as I do.” he says almost calmly if not for his eyes betraying his passion and desire.

“I have to go back, Duke-“

“Fuck the Duke.” Astarion suddenly snaps at you, clearly unhappy that you still try to resist him, try to argue with him, because obviously he doesn’t care about anything but this moment and you. “I will do whatever I please, to whoever I please, whenever I please.” his words are choppy and you feel your heart skip a beat at this. You realize that his arrogance and assurance that nobody can stop him is exactly what you find so alluring about him.

“Astarion-“

“No, no more words from you.” his brows are furrowed and with other hand he finds his way under your dress, finding your underwear and yanking it down with three swift, practiced pulls, wrangling it down your legs with ease. You watch him with surprise because he’s so different right now compared to two other times you fucked. There’s something else about him now, less charm and more confidence? No, that’s not right.

Dominance.

Dominance urged by his jealousy and his desire to make you finally submit.

And then his eyes flash red at you before you notice him holding your undergarment before he bunches it up in his fist and pauses just for a second. Astarion then quickly leans over you, his hand releasing your dress and now gripping your jaw, pushing his thumb and index finger into your cheeks until you are forced to open your mouth. Not that you resist much, caught completely off-guard by his sudden attack. You make a sound of protest and then your own underwear gets shoved into your mouth. You make another noise, startled and shocked but Astarion only clamps a palm over your lips with a grin.

“I think it’s for the best if you remain quiet for now.” he says with a bitter tone and you know he’s still angry, you can see it in his eyes, the possessiveness that he doesn’t even try to fight, because right now he just embraces it. You are his, that’s how he sees it, and he’s ought to teach you that once and for all.

Your eyes scan the room while you try to figure your way out of this predicament and while you’re not looking Astarion leans back from you, his palm leaving your mouth and for a brief second you try to push the fabric out of your mouth, but then clamp on it with your teeth when you feel two fingers plunge into your cunt. Your eyes immediately snap back to Astarion who’s watching his digits begin to pump in and out of you, enjoying how your body responds by clenching and releasing, getting wetter for him by the second. A smirk widens on his face as his gaze remains locked on your core swallowing his fingers with a wet sound.

“This is how I like you best, my little assassin. Submissive and eager for me.” Astarion croons, his jealous anger finally dissipating into nothing, replaced by pure desire. Palm of his other hand presses against the inside of your right thigh then pushes your legs wider apart and the tip of his tongue licks at his upper lip. “You will look absolutely wonderful as you stand by my side in the Crimson Palace.” he speaks more to himself than to you now, his fingers curling and stroking your inner walls, making you shiver and breathe faster as fire quickly spreads through your body, making you forget your fight at least for the time being. “You don’t know it yet, but you will love to be mine, I promise you that, darling.”

Astarion’s eyes do not leave your spread legs when he pulls his fingers out of you, together drawing a muffled moan out of your throat and then his head dips down and you moan around your gag louder when his hot tongue greedily presses against your drenched folds. He licks them, parts them with the tip of his tongue and then rubs against the nub of your clit while his fingers return and spread your entrance, this time making you squirm as your legs shake from tension and uncomfortable position. Astarion has a free hand and he puts it to use, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder while his tongue slithers down from your clit to your wide open cunt and he fills it with eager devotion. You mewl as you watch him with strained from pleasure expression, but soon your neck gets tired and you let your head drop back on the desk while vampire’s tongue explores you as deeply as it possibly can, making you pant out soft sighs at his ministrations.

“Ahh, delicious.” you hear Astarion exhale the moment his mouth leaves you and you exhale with relief when your body relaxes. “But that’s not all, little love.” he coos and your heavy-lidded eyes find his face. You watch him lick his lips, then quickly undo his pants, first the belt, then the buttons and then he pulls out his hard cock, the tip of it glistening with precum, and your throat involuntarily attempts to swallow, the gag in your mouth becoming drenched with your saliva. Astarion laughs. “I see the hungry look in your eyes, but don’t worry, I will give you exactly what you want.” a wicked grin and then he aims his length at you, teasing the tip against your wetness. “So ready for me with so little effort. You’re so easy.” he taunts with a chuckle and you blush heavily because something about how he says it makes your blood run faster and compels you to want to please him.

With a soft hum as he watches himself tease your cunt with his velvety tip Astarion finally pauses, nudging your entrance, pushing in just a little bit and then pulling back. His eyes flick to you to watch your reaction as he does it again and again, making your brain lose any thought except for all-consuming desire for him to stop it, to just fuck you, you’re not used to these types of games, but it looks like this is exactly why Astarion is doing this. He’s enjoying driving you crazy and it’s written all over your face how impatient you are already.

“I wish I could hear you beg, make you put that sweet mouth of yours to good use for once, but alas.” Astarion muses and just as you furrow your brows at his words he wipes everything from your mind by thrusting deeply and powerfully into you.

You cry out, your underwear in your mouth muffling nearly all of it and you watch Astarion smile widely, satisfied by your receptive reaction.

“Good girl, I prefer when you don’t struggle.” he teases and begins pumping.

His pushes are slow in the beginning and Astarion grabs your wrists now, holding them together at your waist as he increases his pace, plunging into you faster and harder. You mewl at his every shove into your core and watch his perfect curls lose their assembly with each passing moment, you see the sweat appear on Astarion’s forehead and his eyes are focused on your breasts that are swinging invitingly as he fucks you on top of this desk and yet he smirks, satisfied with himself.

“You’re perfect. Every time I have you like this I realize it more and more. You’re perfect…” his own voice starts becoming strained, his thrusts hard and heavy, and you wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper into you, making him glance up at your eyes. “Just perfect…” he affirms and bites his lower lip while his face flushes with his physical exertion and his eyes move from yours to your lips, then to your neck.

No, you can’t stop yourself, this feels too good and you bite on your gag as you watch yourself being fucked by a man who you tried to resist for so long. For so long you were trying to escape the truth, deeper truth than that you have feelings for him. Truth, that the thought of being his spawn is not as unappealing as you kept trying to convince yourself. And as his cock strokes you deep inside, making you feel more than pleasure, more than a temporary satisfaction, making you feel like you are wanted and needed, you let go and close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy this fully. But that’s what you were looking for all your life – someone to take charge and just allow you to enjoy yourself. Maybe that’s what you want for eternity too.

You suddenly gasp, brought back to the present as you feel Astarion’s fangs pierce your breast. When you open your eyes you now see that his mouth is wrapped tightly around your left nipple, his tongue moving against it, sucking hard, soothing the pain from his fangs now embedded into your supple flesh. Your eyes meet his when he lifts his red gaze to you and you see nothing but desire in them even through the curl now hanging over his face.

With a wet sound Astarion release your breast and you notice two puncture wounds, slowly beginning to seep blood while he straightens his back, his face covered in sweat and his lips painted in crimson, then his hands move and force your legs open, making you release the grip of your thighs on his hips with ease.

“You’re mine and you will be forever be mine.” Astarion says it with such conviction that you don’t think, you just nod to him as your dry throat tries to make your moans louder. “Yes? Nod again.” he commands and you nod eagerly again while he handles your legs by grabbing underside of your thighs and pushing them up, then down, nearly bending you in half as his cock manages to slide even deeper into you than before. “Good girl.” Astarion’s voice becomes audibly strained but he grins from under his eyebrows and begins thrusting again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your fingers clench at your dress harder and harder but you don’t notice that at all, instead you arch your neck and let out cry after cry with every mind-numbing pump only to be silenced by your gag. Astarion is panting too, his groans and moans louder and louder each time his body rocks against yours. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room alongside your voices and your back arches, you’re so close now, so close to the promised release.

“Fuck, you feel so good, I don’t think I will ever get tired of fucking you.” Astarion’s heat of passion has taken over him and he pounds into you with reckless abandon now, chasing his own climax without caring to tease you or prolong it any longer.

And then a knock on the door. Astarion doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch but you open your eyes, trying to gather your scattered thoughts to understand what’s going on.

“I can hear you in there! Come out at once!” Duke Sanolin’s voice barely registers in your clouded mind and more bangs on the door do not delay the orgasm that is approaching you like a tidal wave. “Do you hear me?!” an angry voice, but you don’t care. Rest of the bangs and words fade from your reality when you close your eyes again.

“Get the FUCK away from the door!” you suddenly hear Astarion snap angrily and the banging on the door stops.

You whine with pleasure, ignoring all of this and feel Astarion bend over you, squishing you underneath him as his tongue leaves a hot trail on your skin between your breasts. And then his voice reaches your mind, a strained whisper.

“Come for me, my love.” he nips at your right breast, his thrusts not relenting and it’s like this is all you needed to hear. You let go.

With a scream of pleasure behind your gag you come, your body straining, your cunt clenching around Astarion’s cock and with a loud groan he climaxes, spilling inside of you and filling you while his erratic thrusts try to prolong the bliss even for a second more. You don’t even feel how Astarion’s fingers dig deep into your thighs as he loses control and everything disappears except your satisfaction until it finally retreats and your body relaxes.

You lay there, gasping for air and finally remember that you can just spit out your gag. Yet before you do, you feel it being pulled from between your teeth and when you open your eyes, you see Astarion gently removing your underwear from your mouth. He smiles to you and then places a kiss on your dry lips, wetting them with his tongue.

“You did so well, my love, so well.” he praises as he gently lets you lower your legs and you try to gather your scattered mind, trying to catch your breath.

“Someone was here. Duke… It was the Duke.” you murmur and Astarion only chuckles.

“Yes he was and now he isn’t. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you and me. Be mine, little assassin. Be mine forever. You can’t tell me that eternity of us doesn’t sound good.” Astarion’s lips that were whispering against yours now move down to your neck and you tense for a moment, only for him to chuckle and look back at you. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn you here.”

“But you are going to turn me.” you begin to find your voice despite your throat feeling raw and Astarion gently rubs a pad of his thumb against your lower lip.

“You want it. I know you do. You want me to take care of you.” he whispers and something breaks in you, snaps in a way you never expected. What’s the point in lying and pretending.

What’s the point in struggling only to die.

The promise of immortality. A promise of eternity with him. Do you feel this strongly about Astarion? But as you look at his tired, sweaty face, as you see his smile that looks genuine and as you see desperate yearning in his eyes you realize that yes, you do.

“I want it.” you respond in barely a whisper and Astarion’s eyes widen for a moment, then he smiles.

“Wonderful.” he says but then pulls back from you, sliding himself out of you and letting his cum seep out of your sore cunt before he helps you sit up and free your hands from binds of your own dress.

You glance up at him as you rub your wrists but you’re allowed that only for a moment before Astarion draws you off the desk and into his arms, holding you firmly. His kiss is sudden and scorching while you still try to recover from everything but his happiness is obvious. Then he leans back before you are even able to kiss him back, his palms quickly move to cradle your face as he looks at you with relief on his face.

“Come to the palace. Tomorrow. I will have everything ready so that your step into immortality is perfect. I promise you this, my little assassin, I will make sure that you don’t regret this.” Astarion whispers and your heart beats faster in your chest. You heard promises like this before, many times, but somehow when it’s Astarion who’s saying them - you believe him.

“Tomorrow?” you ask, still dazed and trying to process everything.

“Leave the details to me. Just come to me when sun goes down. And… don’t change your mind.” he frowns slightly, as if worried you might not appear but you sigh and grasp his waist, pulling your body against his. There’s no fight left in you anymore, just acceptance. So you smile and give him a brief kiss.

“I’ll be there tomorrow evening, as you wish.” you promise and Astarion’s gaze slips down your face, then to your neck ever so briefly before his eyes are on yours again.

“I’ll be waiting.”

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

The Party (Spacedogs) - Shortfic

Explicit // M/M // Adam Raki (Adam)/Nigel (Charlie Countryman) // Tags: Christmas Party, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Alternate Universe, Meet-Cute, Getting to Know Each Other, party hook-up, Closet Sex, Dry Humping, Dirty Talk, Coming In Pants, Family Drama, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Anal Sex, Riding, happy ending. Prompt Fill. Nigel and Adam meet at Will and Hannibal's Christmas Party... smut ensues...

Inspired by this amazing art by @beatricenius

The Party (4.5k words):

Nigel usually made plans specifically to get out of these pretentious fucking parties, but this year he’d dropped the ball and had no excuses when it came to the Lecter-Graham annual Christmas costume party. 

On the one hand, he supposed, Hannibal was probably happy he hadn’t attended since the tradition’s inception - not having to inflict his brother onto polite company. On the other, Hannibal’s in-laws were probably beginning to think that Nigel didn’t actually exist. 

It wasn’t like Nigel had met any of Will’s family, ever. And from the way Will sneered at him half the time they were around each other, he probably preferred that. 

After five years of these parties, perhaps it was time to partake. Though the costume had been a palaver. 

Every year had a theme and this year was masquerade, which Nigel imagined would be comprised of a lot of stuck up wankers dressed in those Venetian masks. Nigel didn’t have time to or desire to get something like that, besides he had an old Halloween costume that would work perfectly with the mask theme.

Nigel zipped up the boiler suit and rummaged for the mask. It wasn’t that he was purposely trying to piss off Hannibal and Will, it was just something that came naturally and he felt the urge to lean into it each time. 

He found the mask and pulled it on, he looked in the mirror and smirked. 

*

“Are you mad at me?” Adam asked, trying to read Will’s expression as they stood in the guest bedroom. Even though Will shook his head, Adam still wasn’t sure. He’d always been close with his cousin and spent most Christmases with him since both their parents had died years ago, But reading people entirely was difficult, and Will knew that. He knew he had to tell Adam what he was thinking or feeling and not expect that he would always know. 

“It’s cute,” Will shrugged and Adam frowned. That at least seemed to prompt his cousin, “It’s fine, honestly. When we said masquerade, we had in mind more… masks…” he made a motion over his eyes as though to indicate wearing a mask.”

“Like Zoro?” Adam asked, frowning. 

Will shrugged and winced, “Just a mask-mask. A mask.”

“Repeating the word makes it no clearer. I do understand the concept of a masquerade but you seem to want something very specific. This <i>is</i> sort of a mask,” Adam held up the helmet and put it on, then he flicked down the sun visor, “this bit is a mask.”

“You’re right, it’s fine.” Will agreed.

“Okay then,” Adam smiled and secured the helmet on. “I didn’t have anything else I could bring.”

“Hannibal and I could have gotten you something, or we could have gone shopping…” Will trailed off as Adam shook his head. He really wasn’t great with shopping, and was pretty particular about clothes.

“I’m comfortable in this,” Adam said.

Will smiled then and nodded, he grabbed Adam’s shoulder and squeezed, though he could barely feel it through the thickness of the spacesuit. 

“That’s all that matters.”

Continue on AO3!

[shadowqueenjude]

Tamlin angst part 5

@achaotichuman @fell-in-luvs TW: suicide, abuse, etc. etc. etc. As if the command had worked, Lucien opened his one remaining eye. "Eye sense a High Lord hovering above me. Haha, get it? Eye?" Tamlin sobbed onto Lucien's chest. "That was such a horrible joke, you idiot!" Lucien laughed weakly again. "Well, it can't be worse than telling Amarantha to go back to the shit-hole she crawled out of." "Holy shit I fucking love you." Tamlin clapped his hand over his mouth, unable to take back the confession of love he'd made, which was answered by Lucien's "Love you too, brother." Man, Lucien was so intelligent, but he could be so oblivious sometimes. Tamlin felt certain that at least half of Prythian was in love with him but Lucien had no fucking idea because he himself was so affectionate with faeries in general. He couldn't blame them. Who could look into Lucien's sad brown eyes-er, eye- and not fall in love? Tamlin stared at the scar- the wicked scar slashing across his forehead all the way down to his chin- and wished it was on his face instead. Amarantha had dared to mar Lucien's perfect face. It was one thing coming after himself, but Lucien? He vowed that no matter what Amarantha did to him, he would never ever give in to her ever. He'd sooner take a human as a lover than her. With great effort, Lucien lifted himself up. Tamlin tried and failed not to stare at Lucien's muscles shifting as he sat upright. He was so fucking strong. His Lucien. His braveheart. His flame. Tamlin tried not to collapse in despair at the sight of his empty eyelid. All his fault. All his fucking fault. If he had just been stronger- "I don't look that bad, do I?" Lucien joked. Joking- he was joking after everything he'd just gone through. This fucking guy. Tamlin fell more in love every moment. "You could never look bad," Tamlin choked, and it was the truth. "Thank the Cauldron for that," he said. He grasped Tamlin's shoulder. "Don't worry about this, Tamlin. I have a friend back in Dawn- she'll know what to do about this." So typical of Lucien to be trying to reassure Tamlin after he'd just lost his fucking eye. Tamlin had never been more ashamed of himself. "So, I'll have to leave you for a little while, but I'll be back soon, I promise." It had been a while since he'd gone so many days without Lucien. He'd forgotten how lonely it was, how empty without Lucien. Lucien was his light, his moment of day in a world of night. Every brush of the leaves, every laugh, every flash of red, Tamlin saw Lucien. He had failed him. He had one fucking job, and he failed. Tamlin's father was right. He was a good-for-nothing. Amarantha had invited him to a masquerade party under the mountain in apology for what she'd done to Lucien. Tamlin didn't trust it, but what choice did he have? He'd rather have peace in Prythian than violence, even if he'd never forgive Amarantha in a thousand lifetimes. When Lucien had returned fully healed, scar scabbed over, a wicked gold metal eye in the place where his beautiful russet one had been, Tamlin nearly fell to his knees. He'd thought that there was no way Lucien could ever get more handsome, more desirable. He was dead wrong. One look at his magnificence, a dangerous edge now added to his look, and Tamlin couldn't breathe. Prythian couldn't handle this male. Tamlin couldn't. It was a miracle that Tamlin's legs didn't fail him, that he didn't shout out the words, "Marry me!" Then he felt guilty for finding him hotter than his unmaimed self. What was wrong with him? His maiming had been his fault, after all. He was sick. As sick as Amarantha.

[inkyquince]

Patreon Post: Unholy Confession (Father Blythe- VtM oc)

content warning: Throatfucking, Secret Sex, Confessional, general warning for Malkavian stuff.

content warning. a bit of angst, emotional cheating (from a third party, not from reader or father), mean girl Blythe. 

“It’s so bad Father, god, I can’t stand this anymore.” The man on the other side of the confessional struggled to keep his voice down, cracking hoarsely every time he used the priest’s title.

Father Blythe hummed knowingly and you struggled not to whine from your spot between his thighs, drool slipping from your mouth from the cock lodged in your throat. Tears pricked your eyes, nose buried in his thin happy trail as he saw to confession after confession after confession. Your body was so cold, the cold stone slabs freezing your knees, with the cool temperature of the priest not warming you up in any way.

“I can’t stop thinking about him. I know it’s a sin, but everything melts away when it comes to him.”

He hummed again and for the first time in over an hour, he slowly looked away from the confessional screen, down to you. His pure white eyes were so clear to see behind his dark glasses and you can tell his steel gaze was fixed upon your face. As per usual, it made your stomach flip, almost curdling inside your own body as if it was alive and squirming.

“I see… Desire can be such a savage sin that masquerades first as fondness and then love.” His gloved fingers squeezed your cheeks, making you dribble more, mouth already stuffed full with cock.

“I know, I know.” The man seemed to be rocking himself in the small confession booth. “I’m having impure thoughts about someone who isn’t my wife, but… But Father, I adore him. He’s the first person to make me laugh… Make me feel something real after so many years.”

Father Blythe listened close, even as his sharp fangs emerged slowly and dug into his pale bottom lip, eyes growing more hungry at his words as he looked at you. Tangling his thin fingers into your hair, he had enough of your snug little mouth cockwarming him. His touch was gentle but firm as he forcibly pulled you off his cock just to press it all the way back in. You couldn’t help the slick sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat or your gagging at all, His sadistic grin grew at the sound.

“Ah, matters of the heart. You might be thinking of those matters with a different part of your body. Do you love him, or do you lust after him?”

The man on the other side gave a sniff and fell silent, but the Father didn’t let up, fucking into your throat, and not worried about your very audible gagging and drooling.

“... I love him. W-We haven’t had sex, and I don’t… Want him for that.”

Father Blythe’s pale pink tongue poked out from his lip as he exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back to show off his graceful pale neck, Adam’s apple bobbing. He started bucking his hips, the soft of his priest’s robe brushing against your skin as his happy trail tickling your lips. You became dizzy from the lack of air but knew not to pull off. Not until he deemed it.

“Then be with your lover.” Blythe hissed through his teeth, taking both you and the confessor off guard.

“What?” The man stammered.

He tilts his head back down to stare at you, his gaze unnerving and steady. It was like waking up in the middle of the night and seeing something from the bottom of your bed. Looking. But this time you can’t switch on the light and wash the illusion away with a warm glow. Just like when the priest first arrived in your town, and you had nightmares every night of something staring down at you, hungry and cold and detached. Now it’s above you, making you gag on his cold cock lodged in your throat.

“Run away with your love. Or be with them. Why waste your time?” He murmured, low, leaning down as if to speak directly to you. “Run away. Pack up and leave for a better life with a man who loves you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, first warming you before growing cold all over. He wasn’t telling you that you… Were the one he’d leave with. He was mocking you. Daring you to run away from him, leave his flock. Mocking you because he knew you never would. Docile as a lamb and loyal to its shepherd even as its being led to its butchering.

“I… I could? And God wouldn’t-”

“Why would God care?”

That seemed to take the confessor aback. They stayed silent and Father Blythe refused to look away from your eyes, staring deep into them before he leaned back, satisfied that you understood what he meant. With a gentle touch, he slipped his cockhead from your mouth, the drooling slit still pressed against your bottom lip. You deeply inhaled oxygen, unable to stop drool from slipping out as you rested your cheek against his covered knee, still lightheaded. It took you a moment to realize you were far too loud, your gasps for breath drowned out by your own heartbeat throbbing in your ears. But it took you a moment to realize that it didn’t matter, as the confessor was softly crying.

“Thank you, Father… Thank you!” He whispered between tearful sniffles and soft sobs.

“Go with God.” Father Blythe murmured and raised his thin, gloved hand to shut the screen, immediately plunging the two of you in darkness. The father remained still as the man slipped through the thick fabric of the confessional and you could hear him trot away, footsteps echoing.

There was just a beat of silence between you two. Father Blythe leaned down and pressed his cold lips against yours, your warm puff of air meeting his breathless mouth, tongue flicking over your bottom lip, where precum stained your skin.

The confessional curtain was tugged at and someone else walked in and sat down and Father Blythe leaned away. With a cruel, harsh grip of your jaw, he forcibly parted your lips before lodging his cock all the way into your throat again, making you give a soft whine of pain.

“Father?” Oh. That was your neighbor.

“Hello, my child.” Father Blythe looks down at you with a smirk, with his fingers stroking over your cheek as he slowly began to fuck into your throat again. “Tell me, how long has it been since your last confession?”

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Colorful Fic Titles Masterlist

all that glitters is gold (ao3) - strxngersagain luke/calum, luke/omc T, 30k

Summary: Luke is running from everyone, including himself, and Calum is getting tired from chasing after him.

black coffee and sulfur (ao3) - allsassnoclass (brightblackholes) calum/ashton T, 9k

Summary: “You’re the demon,” Ashton says, voice steady. “I was right about the crop failures and electrical storms. There is a demon in Springville.”

black is the colour (of my true love's hair) (ao3) - hemmingscliffords Michael/Luke E, 2k

Summary: His eyes graze over Luke's ash blonde hair, the multitude of colours from various batches of highlights that their stylists have given him over the past year, the butterscotch coloured roots that are growing in from not upkeeping it, and out of nowhere Michael thinks that holy shit, Luke would look awesome with black hair. Maybe an ebony colour that had a midnight blue washed through it.

Blue (ao3) - Extras0fts Michael/Calum G, 544

Summary: "You're home, and whenever I'm with you, I feel blue."

blue gatorade & strawberries (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum M, 7k

Summary: “That’s actually why I’m here,” Calum says, causing Luke to frown in confusion.

“To haunt me?”

“To ask if I’m being too loud,” Calum replies with a lopsided smile. “My sister got me these badass speakers for graduation, but the subwoofer can be kind of intense, so I wanted to make sure I wasn’t bothering you.”

“Oh, are you the asshole in 314 whose bass is making it impossible for me to quietly pine after my best friend?”

Blue Masquerade (ao3) - CalumSmiles (dreamforlife) michael/luke E, 85k

Summary: Michael is in love with Luke. That much is clear. Well, to Calum, Ashton and the rest of the world anyway. Luke is blissfully oblivious to the blatant signs. He gets a girlfriend. Michael tries to move on.

Spoiler: he fails.

Color of Love (ao3) - felixandtae luke/ashton N/R, 161k

Summary: ❝Sometimes my eyes show emotions I don't even realize I'm feeling.❞

Where Luke's eyes change color based on his mood, but they never turned purple until he met Ashton.

Gay Doesn't Mean Rainbows (ao3) - walking_crisis69 michael/luke T, 3k

Summary: "Your breath tastes like smoke." Luke said as he pulled away, running his fingers through his enemy's hair. "And your breath tastes like rainbows."

he's got blue eyes deep like the sea (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton 5k

Summary: He groans, a sickening pain shooting through him. He can feel something wet beginning to trail down his leg, and in his hazy mind, he just barely manages to put together that it's slick, and he's just presented.

Fuck, he's an omega.

(or, the one where luke goes into his first heat at a party, and it all goes downhill from there.)

Milky White (ao3) - gardener luke/ashton, michael/calum M, 3k

Summary: 'Hey, where are you guys heading?' 'Woodford Folk Festival!'

Ashton is a gray romantic hard worker with his mind set on hiking through the forests and meeting nice people to become friends with. Whilst exploring the woods in Queensland, he comes across two friends who enthusiastically invite him to join them to the festival. Despite the fact they know nothing about each other apart from names, he decides to tag along and see what the fuss about this festival is all about. It all turns into a hot mess that night, with Ashton's nose nuzzling between Luke's milky white thighs he is starting to want to become good friends with.

My Baby Wears Shades of Pink (ao3) - twinkylukey luke/ashton E, 1k

Summary: Ashton now owns the Playboy mansion. Luke is the only male bunny, and the only one that suits his needs.

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Summary: Or where Luke and Michael had a summer fling and they both have feelings for each other after a year.

Purple Lipstick (ao3) - SinisterMind michael/calum T, 3k

Summary: Michael picked up the eyeliner his mother left on the side of the sink and an overwhelming desire to wear it washed over him.

or

Michael likes to wear make-up

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Summary: Michael’s just finished his undergrad and is ready to stop messing around with strangers and get more serious about his studies as he prepares for his dream job. No relationships, no sex. Which is harder than it sounds when Ashton Irwin comes into his life.

White Lines, Pretty Daddy Golden Skin (ao3) - twinkylukey luke/ashton E, 3k

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White Noise (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton E, 7k

Summary: Luke and Ashton have massive crushes on each other, Ashton throws a party, and all of Luke's dreams come true. (Maybe they're a tiny bit in love too. Maybe.)

you showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else (ao3) - lifewasradical OT4, luke/calum, michael/ashton T, 20k

Summary: “Well, the color we can see is red. Well, wait, is this the color you see?” Calum asks, holding out his phone to show Luke a list of basic colors. The only box that's anything but a shade of grey is marked red. Luke nods again, looking around to place more red objects.

“I’ve never heard of someone meeting their soulmate and not seeing all the colors at once,” Calum says, leaning back against his bed.

Or, you're supposed to see all the colors when you meet your soulmate. Calum and Luke only see red.

you’re my honeysuckle rose (ao3) - merlypops Luke/Ashton E, 8k

Summary: Ash and Lu have been in love with each other for a long time, and they just want to be together.

[beta-adjacent]

The Great Gatsby Placement HCs🍾

I feel like this story is one of the more interesting ones to flip dynamic archetypes, not only because we should generally re-explore gender/sexuality during the turn of the 20th century, but also because this book specifically toys with ways to have social/interpersonal leverage. I really struggled to cover that here adequately (I’m kind of a basic bitch lol), but I’d love to see an AU where conceptions like “masculine/leader/protector alpha” changes entirely

Daisy: omega.

An annoyingly easy placement for me. I feel like for her to be driven to have an affair with Nick, she'd need to be one, if that makes sense? She needs that feeling of being equal and being in a traditional marriage of "man x omega woman" or the epitome of “object of desire” Really would emphasize that I think.

Beta works too? You’re not going to see me actively fight that

Nick: any dynamic

I and I think most others would see him as a beta. He’s an observer, he finds it natural to fall into the background of whatever bullshit his life is surrounded by, he often finds himself a mediator between other parties, I lowkey kind of kin him, etc.

I’d also take Nick as an alpha who refuses to step into the spotlight, which adds an interesting nuance for him admiring Gatsby ("do I love him or wanna be him?" type beat).

And I’m down to argue to defend omega Nick too, though I’ll be honest, I only really considered it because Nick was played by Tobey Maguire in the movie, haha.

Jordan: beta or alpha

Really, I just want to emphasize she and Nick are foils.

Honestly, I'm kind of in love with Jordan being whatever dynamic Gatsby initially presents himself as, because there's meant to be this kind of hollow relationship thing happening between Jordan and Nick and ✨fucked up implications in dynamic parallels✨ are tasty (listen, Nick was already on thin ice considering how this motherfucker specifically liked how androgynous Jordan was; please let me do this shawty)

I’ll also say omega could be fun because we’d be working with an omega athlete

Gatsby: literally anything works

I don't know how many times I've seen transmasc Gatsby since I started looking up fanworks, but what I do know is that the idea is stuck in my mind forever. That is to say, it almost feels imperative for Gatsby's narrative to hide his dynamic or to excessively flaunt it because it was the one thing he could rely on in his youth.

I personally find myself the most in love with beta Gatsby, masking as anything he finds fun for that day, using the most expensive perfumes and tech.

Alpha Gatsby who follows his dream partially because “I’m no real alpha if I can’t make it big” or “I’m an alpha so I’m destined for greatness”.

I love Omega Gatsby specifically because it means we’re now playing with the classic “omega-mask as-not omega” trope. Like are you fucking KIDDING me?!?!?!?!? TEXTBOOK ANGST for this genre HOLY SHIT.

Point is: any dynamic for Jay is stellar, including pan/inter/fluiddynamic, because he can use it as yet another way to masquerade (or as deluded inspiration for his idealism, haha)

Tom: alpha, but consider…

Tom’s old money, the traditional foil for the new-wave moonshiner Jay. So alpha is just kind of a no-brainer, especially if we’re playing with Jay being this aspiring alpha/putting into question what makes an alpha.

But. But but but PLEASE just imagine a Tom who’s ALSO insecure like Gatsby in his second gender. Beta or omega Tom is insane to me, and this is really where I wish I had the brains for an non-traditionalish AU, because I want to see Tom/Daisy’s personalities/interactions to be totally flipped from the “ideal” alpha man/omega woman couple.

[godspeedwarrior]

This story comes from a game of Vampires of the Masquerade.

I'm a fresh new storyteller for VtM. Have a few DnD campaigns under belt, figure what's the difference running my own game of VtM? Already played one campaign. Rules are pretty easy to grasp as a D10 system.

Have a new group of players who are all DnD vets looking for some spice to their roleplay lives. Sit down with each player individually to sort out details and a quick session zero. Intermix players in each storyline to establish familiarity for when main story starts.

Enter the Gangrel. Her name is Merik. Wants to be an Egyptian native from the 60-70's era. Likes fish out of water idea where she wakes up in modern day. Likes druid, so picked Clan primarily due to animalistic play style.

Wants an animal companion. Has enough dots in Animalism to at least summon a desired beast. Ask her what she wants, what's the story there? Receive a solid tale about finding a snowy owls nest in her travels. Little guy is sole survivor of an attack by a hawk or something. Decides in moment of humanity to raise him.

Has highest Humanity in group, seems fair.

Figured after building a relationship with the little guy I could fridge the bastard for some sweet character development. Love abusing major attachments in World of Darkness.

Dream of, "You come back to your haven to find your bird sliced to ribbions on the floor. There's a note written in his blood that you're next!" Can't have shit in Detroit. Roll your humanity.

Run simple interaction, don't put too much thought into his character, be a little shit for five minutes because bird logic. Doesn't give a fuck about rules or society. She instantly falls in love with him. Names him Hi-Jinx due to shenanigans.

Begin to establish time-skip. Decide good antagonist would be Followers of Set since we're in the dunes outside Cairo. Come up with motives later.

Merik's clan is ambushed before dawn. She takes a few shots in the back, falls into the sands and is swept away. Wasn't ashed, sleeps in torpor (aka Vampire coma).

Awakens in tomb. Modern day. Blood everywhere. Realizes she's holding an arm that was clearly being used to beat some poor excavator.

Jinx pops out of hiding.

Explains she's been sleeping for many moons and that he got lucky when the humans digging in this location. Hints that he may be why she was awoken. She doesn't catch on.

Brushing off the frenzied slaughter, Merik casually chucks the arm randomly.

Fuck it. Roll situation to see what becomes of random arm. RNGesus has deemed this session zero shall be a thing of legend and curses my entire roll.

Talking not a die above 3.

Situation immediately goes to shit. Equipment begins to explode or catch fire due to overload. Police sirens can be heard swarming in from the distance because one survivor managed to phone the police. The tomb begins to collapse due to the shock from the explosions. The sands begin to reclaim the tomb.

Needless the say, Merik immediately fucks off in a hurry.

About this time my other players began to ask questions. If Jinx was born in the early 70's was it really possible for him to be alive in the modern day?

Suddenly realize I have no idea how long birds actually live for. Tell everyone to take a smoke break so I can google some things.

Begin to sweat when Snowy Owls generally live 10 years.

Quietly panic when I find that vampire blood burns out of a creatures within a month, meaning no extension of life or loyalty.

Hold my breathe as I realize I'm in too deep with this character to retcon anything.

New plan: Roll with whatever comes to mind.

Come back to group and tell them not to worry about anything until their characters are able to ask these questions themselves. Buy at least 3 sessions by playing to the Party's attention deficit.

Begin session 1.

Party is Motley Crew. Starts trouble everywhere they go. Breaks shit without hesitation. Go full Scorched Earth at first sign of trouble.

Being independent they have no idea what a "masquerade" is since I forgot to make it an important part of their backstories. Ends up fighting other clans that are simply trying to keep the peace.

Enter the Bird Boi.

In a moment of genius, decide Jinx is a super natural being. Solves the age problem and gives the party someone who will give them a fighting chance to learn how to be creatures of the night socially.

He begins to display powers that grant quick fixes to the crew's more minor screw ups. Watched enough Fullmetal Alchemist to bullshit most fixes via transmutation.

Isn't an entirely reliable solution to most problems.

Is still dumbass bird weilding god-like powers. Isn't exactly reliable in general and only ever acts when situation is dire.

Fixes only lasts long enough to ensure masquerade is held.

Keeps Jinx from being fix-all.

Somehow promotes more critical thinking. Party starts to consider beforehand if Jinx has the ability to fix their given situation, or even the willingness to. Being dumbass bird, he'll sometimes accidentally monkey paw a request due to misunderstanding the context and finding what he's willing to bargain with can be more work for the players than just fixing the problem themselves.

Sessions start go by so well that I forget to mention if he's even there.

Party takes note of my fuck up.

Next session begins with Crew meeting at Tzimisce's Haven for the evening. Conversation works towards questioning Merik about Jinx's whereabouts lately.

Player fimbles roleplay ball and states she has no idea. Hasn't seen him.

Literally drops it on everyone, myself included, that she's not his keeper. Didn't sign up for this shit. Considers him more of a childhood friend since she took care of him as a hatchling. Realize I could have dropped him at any point and it wouldn't have bothered her.

Get dumbass idea.

A grimy naked homeless man suddenly slinks into meeting room. Starts talking to everyone like an old friend, makes himself obnoxiously comfortable despite sending everyone into immediate high alert.

Tzimisce of the group begins to have a fucking aneurysm. Demands to know how some rando just made his way to his guarded Haven without triggering the pamphlet full of safeguards and heavy security.

Ask him if he says any of it in character.

He pauses for a moment, confirms he does.

Decide to bullshit power the situation.

Guy explains he just walked through.

Tzimis doesn't buy it. Lists off death traps, guards and other shit. Pulls out pamphlet with building design, reference notes, and illustrations. Thrusting it in my face that it's vampire proof.

Guy sticks to story, unphased

Tizmis pulls gun on him.

Surprised he didn't start with that.

Guy proves claim by phases his hand through the table. (No he's not a Phantom. You're welcome for getting that stuck in your head.)

Whole group is taken a back.

Guy wonders why everyone is so hostile towards him. Begins to try and peck at his chest to itch it. Fails to do so. Curses his lack of neck.

Party takes a smoke break so they can continue to deal with my bullshit.

Party concludes that Bird is now Boy.

To quote, "One Bird Boi bath later," Jinx explains how he came to be this way, all the while fighting off every attempt to make him wear pants. (He's usually a naked bird, felt like being an asshole)

While flying around one night he noticed a suspicious group of people with Snake tattoos hiding out around Merik's place. When he got closer he could hear that they were planning, to bag Merik. Protective instincts take hold, he swoops in and starters pecking at eyes and clawing the assailants. Going as far to actually pull one of their eye's out.

After the scuffle, Jinx remarks that he began to feel strange. Finds somewhere safe to lay low and recover for a while. After some strange dreams he woke up in a human body with no idea how to change back. Only managed to find Crew due to a new found sense of direction.

They manage to get him to compromise on wearing kilts. Seemed fitting.

Following week, am listening to YouTube, just letting random go, hear about Owl of Athena. Start to wonder if there's more Mushu/Mulan set ups in history I can abuse for story.

Only find Johan of Arc. It's suggested to be same owl as Athena. Roman Catholic, go figure.

Get invested in the idea of Jinx being this mascot for godly avatars.

Begin search in Egyptian gods to match Merik's theme.

Find Horace. Find that despite Horace being most commonly depicted as a Hawk- commoner shrines could depict him as just about any bird. He and Set are enemies.

Start to shit pants at the perfection.

Horace is missing an eye with his power in it and needs to collect shards to reclaim his power.

Can't fucking believe the coincidence that Jinx just ripped some Set follower's eye out and suddenly gained more power.

Start moving Followers of Set in full force. Every little underhanded thing that happens now leads back to the Followers. Start encountering raid boss-like "Amped Vamps" to match up with the Crew's perpetual murder practices that have reached such a level- nearly each of them is built to face down tanks in one way or another. Jinx starts developing new powers after each encounter. Begin to see the gears in motion as party starts to connect the dots.

Decide it's time to establish solid plot. Invade the Ventrue's Haven, catching most of the Motley Crew with their pants down as Brujah duo is not present. (The heavy hitters of the group)

Follower's of Set demand Merik be turned over to them in exchange for their unlives.

Ventrue displays he's read the easy-read notes for "Art of the Deal."

Is built socially to argue with God on account of being business man and rest of party barely speaks above "Unga-bunga, Yabba dabba DESTROY."

His dice explode on 10's (counting the roll as a success and getting to roll that die again at chance for another success).

Burns all the luck of the Irish, and maybe some Scottish.

Dice don't quit exploding like a Mexican fireworks truck on the 4th of July.

Eventually have to ask him to stop rolling.

Ventrue basically has free reign to talk shit without consequence for remainder of encounter.

Demands to know what's going on. Followers have direct orders from Set to collect Merik. Didn't say why. Didn't really care, they are commanded to do.

Admit Motley Crew's two Brujah have been the real problem up to this point. Sick of getting their teeth kicked in, things have come to diplomacy.

Ventrue tells them to pay in gold or piss off. He's got shit to do, the only time he makes for an ass kicking is when he makes a whole evening out of it.

Followers agree to price, but refuse to pay in advance.

Ventrue orders ghoul servant to piss on their shoes to make a point.

Follower takes ghoul's head over the insult.

Ventrue reveals he's been stalling for time. Lying to their faces that he's got a personal silent alarm for calling the Brujah and that they're bound to arrive any second. Out of respect for offering a business deal, permits them enough time to leave if they truly intend to pay for his services. However, wants to be clear that he's only doing this because he's not feeling very... murderous tonight. No, no, his special toolset has been very neglected lately, and he knows for a fact that the Tzimisce has been in need of a new plaything recently since he got bored with the last one and made it into a table.

Feeling good impressions have been made, Follower's politely leave.

They happen to catch sight of one of the Brujah walking up as they drove away just for a laugh.

The moment Merik and Jinx show up the Ventrue loses all composure. Starts waving his Desert Eagle around like a scene out of Boondock Saints. Demands to know what's going on between Merik and the "snake fuckers." Is done with band of discount Sytherin cosplayers taking the piss out of his evenings. Orders personally tailored suit made entirely out of snake skin. Designs perversed take on "Don't Tread On Me" icon depicting Follower's snake emblem getting curb stomped for the back of jacket.

"Stomp It Out" logo is born.

Merik genuinely has no idea what's going on. Honestly thinks the Followers of Set just hate Gangrels. Jinx hesitantly begins to explain.

Since they've been collecting his power back through encounters with Amped Vamps, Jinx has also been regaining some memories.

Begin to explain Hawkman levels of bullshit reincarnation. This not being the first time he's been her companion, or the first time she's been a vampire.

Due to reasons still outside his memory, Set has constantly tried to kill Merik before she can reach a godlike state. Keeping the two separated from their eternity together. Could lose Merik anytime as she is and he'll have to sacrifice what power he has just to bring her back. Is vicious cycle. No one questions if this is toxic as fuck or super romantic.

From here, the game started to die out due to work schedules conflicts and out-of-game drama. Merik's player just stopped coming to game although because one of the Brujah's started overseeing every little thing she did, being the most high chaos player and the highest priority target. Tried to sort things out so plot could continue as planned, but they fought out-of-game and from there it was completely out of my hands.

Was able to note a few instances that gave signs she was a jackle thanks to Protean; making her the female representation of Anubis. But we'll never know what this crazy storyline would have come to since Merik was out and it didn't make sense to carry on the plot without her.

That's the story of how not knowing enough about owls started a major plot point in my game.

[your-turn-to-role]

so, since i've failed at getting into c3 so far (i've tried, it's just yet to be my kind of story), i've decided in lieu of my liveblogging, each week i will be posting a one sentence summary of the episode based exclusively on what everyone on my dash is freaking out about, regardless of how relevant it is to the episode!

the list so far:

episode 3 - bertrand is fucking dead

episode 4 - s h a d o w b a k e r (who is 100% Not Essek)

episode 5 - "pretend that this is kith and kin, because both liam and i forgot to bring it-" "-both promised to bring it-" "-both forgot!"

epiosde 6 - 🎵 HEY THERE DELILAH WHAT'S IT LIKE IN LAUDNA'S BRAIN🎵

episode 7 - revenge of chetney chocolatecane poc o pea!

episode 8 - dorian's brother is a himbo

episode 9 - moon lore just dropped??

episode 10 - i think the party intimidated their way out of a problem but it's hard to tell because there's a shadowgast time loop au now

episode 11 - my whole dash is one art of the nightmare king, chetney is a werewolf, and matt's figured out how to counterturtle!

episode 12 - is it marwa time i think it's marwa time

episode 13 - ~masquerade ball~

episode 14 - everyone forgot that dorian wasn't a permanent cast member and they would like him to stay pls??

bonus one shot! - how many horses can one party stack!

episode 15 - no dorian :(

but also we're bell's hells now motherfuckers

episode 16 - mind condom

episode 17 - laudna in tlovm confirmed

episode 18 - imogen's blue now. that's her attack.

thursday 31st march - we've had first exu what about second exu?

episode 19 - one gold and a lime

episode 20 - new nordvpn, laura has new hair, and an incredibly deadly heist through a gift shop?

episode 21 - i cast yassify

episode 22 - oh my god did they actually get a response back from vex?

episode 23 - is travis actually making all these things out of wood?

episode 24 - imogen is bald now and erika's playing a hot elf

calamity break - brennan's here to destroy the world and it's the best written thing anyone's ever seen

episode 25 - new intro!!!

episode 26 - orym is Gay and erika ishii is Up To Something

episode 27 - erika's hot elf is evil and even hotter (also not an elf)

episode 28 - fearne lore time

episode 29 - [S] CR Fandom: Mental Breakdown

episode 30 - m o o n  l o r e  j u s t  d r o p p e d [bass boosted edition]

episode 31 - "i was waiting for the riegel shoe to drop" ~taliesin jaffe, c2e48

episode 32 -

episode 33 - somehow the queen is the least relevant person to die today

episode 34 - the true monster in laudna's head wasn't delilah briarwood it was fandom discourse

episode 35 - ashton confirmed spoonie, thank you taliesin for as always giving me personally the representation i didn't even realise was possible

episode 36 - deus vox machina

episode 37 - genuinely i think the delilah fight was so cool and i didn't even watch it

episode 38 - HE LEFT THEM A SKYSHIP AND A COOKIE RECIPE

episode 39 - i don't know what happened this episode but im glad travis is fulfilling his werewolf dreams

episode 40 - fearne put your hand up

m9 two shot! - THREE. PACTS.

episode 41 - it's been almost exactly one whole campaign since the last time members of the party got super fucked up on something they shouldn't have eaten, so it was about time!

episode 42 -

episode 43 - everyone desires planerider ryn carnally

episode 44 - i wanna say amateur porno in the basement. i really do. but unfortunately ludinus is up to some bullshit

episode 45 - turns out he doesn't keep a ledger... he has a kenku... so... we kidnapped the kenku

[vampiric-hunger]

⊱─ 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: 𝕔𝕙.𝟜 - 𝕤𝕝𝕠𝕥𝕙 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Ascended Astarion x f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - T, (this chapter) pissed off Astarion, threatening

➺ 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: you're skilled, driven and most importantly - ambitious. but even as someone in your position, a trained assassin and a leader of your own Guild, you still lend yourself to jobs that are of importance. even if those jobs sometimes mean attending parties. tonight - it's a masquerade and you're bored out of your mind, until the man who hired you to protect him leaves you alone, at the mercy of a stranger who suddenly took a keen interest in you.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4,043

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: enjoy ♡~

➺ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: [link]

After the last encounter with Astarion you felt like you had no choice but to make sure that he is watched, if not because of your curiosity then for your own safety. He threatened you in your own office, and you are sure he would’ve gone through with his threat if not for you having your men guarding the door, as is per protocol every time you have a visitor. It made you think about how quickly he dropped the mask of a charming noble and gave into his vampiric desire. It made you wonder if you would have survived the meeting if not for your precautions.

And it made you doubt your own abilities and skills, made you revisit those long decades when you were naught but a slave to men’s desires. Men like Astarion. And yet you can’t help but find him strangely alluring despite the danger he poses to you and everything you work for.

He wants you as his spawn.

That’s the cold, hard fact that doesn’t leave your mind. And you can understand why he would want someone like you in his possession, his to order and to command, but you sense there’s more to it than your influence or possibly your blood that he found so intoxicating before. It’s just that you can’t quite figure out what else is there that draws him to you.

But as weeks pass you neither hear from Astarion or see him. You attend couple balls, again in your role of a guard to spoiled patriars, but even there you do not see even a silver lock of him. And all your assassins report is that the Lord doesn’t seem to have left his mansion since you put your men on duty to watch his movements.

“Nothing again.” a man dressed in black leather armor and a cloth mask over his lower face reports and you nod to him as you wonder why Astarion seems not to have left the palace at all.

When the man leaves, you remain with your thoughts and find yourself feeling… worried? You’re not sure if it’s the right word to describe your emotions, but for now – it’s the only one you have. Worry.

You stand from your desk and pour yourself some wine, thinking. Why would you worry about a man who you simply fucked couple of times, a man who came to your Guildhall and threatened you, nay, nearly killed you, simply out of his obsession to have you as his, like it’s a whim he can’t get out of his head. A man who is very much a Vampire Lord, one of the most dangerous and powerful creatures to exist.

But as you think that, you suddenly pause with your silver goblet nearly touching your lips. If he’s a Vampire Lord, why haven’t you realized until now that his touch is warm? You’ve been with vampires before, when you were forced to serve carnal desires of whoever your masters deemed you sufficient enough but sometimes not even that was enough for you to not end up violated. You remember those touches well, among countless others – cold, chilling to the bone, their skin icy as steel, their mouths only warm when they were coated in your own blood. So why Astarion’s touch felt scorching on your skin, why his claim upon your body didn’t feel like a piercing shard of ice.

With a confused frown you walk to your armchair and sit down, remembering how his heartbeat felt when you pressed your palm against his naked chest.

A heartbeat.

What kind of vampire Astarion is after all? This puzzles you more than you’d like and you can’t help but sip your wine and think of what to do. Should you see him? If so, do you even want to go to his mansion alone? But you know that bringing your men would only make this Vampire Lord see you as a threat when all you are right now is just curious.

And he hasn’t left his home in a while. You quickly calculate how long since you last saw him: must be close to a month, you realize. With a frown you battle yourself - to go see Astarion in his own domain or just try and forget about him, but you realize once more – he left his mark on you, intentionally or not. And while it’s not a bite mark like he wishes to inflict upon you, the one that would forever make you his, it’s a mark nonetheless.

It doesn’t take you long to finish your wine and leave your office, citing orders to the men you pass them until you climb the ladder and return to the surface world.

The living, colorful world of Baldur’s Gate.

You notice a guard nearby, the one you lately stationed among several others to guard the secret entrance. It was a precaution just in case Astarion wanted to show up unannounced, but knowing that he doesn’t seem to even leave his mansion, you think that you will have to dismiss the watch. Sometimes these things attract more attention than having no one at all loitering by the passage. Still, you don’t acknowledge the man and pull your hood over your head, blending in with the crowd easily as you weave through the streets leading to the Ancunín mansion. You haven’t been there, not even once, but you know the layout of the city like the back of your own hand, so it takes you very little time to arrive at the gates and peer through them at the massive wooden door, closed for everyone who’s not invited. Or at least you suspect so.

The day is partially cloudy and while you’d prefer some better, darker conditions when showing your face at the front gate of Lord Ancunín’s home, you know better than to try and sneak inside. You’ve come here on good terms after all, but mainly because you want answers. Answers to questions you shouldn’t be asking an undead monster, and yet here you are, wondering how to get anyone’s attention inside as the front yard looks completely void of any life besides some trees and shrubbery littered across the grass.

You lift your eyes to stained-glass windows, seeing the expensive beauty of them but not much else. Not only they are not meant to let onlookers peer inside, you suspect there might be heavy curtains in front of all of them, given you’re at the doorstep of a vampire coven. Still, you are left with the seemingly impossible task of being noticed and let inside.

Pressing your lips into a thin line you wonder what would you get the attention of the occupants inside the mansion but nobody else’s, then look around, noticing that there’s very few people who do not even pay attention to you while you linger by the massive iron gate.

“What do you want?” a voice behind you nearly makes you flinch. You can’t recall last time someone was able to sneak up on you like this and you turn immediately, seeing an unfamiliar face partially hidden in the shadow by a hood of a heavy cloak that’s covering entire creature. A vampire spawn, you don’t need to be a monster hunter to deduct this correctly.

“I’m here to see Astarion.” you reply and the spawn, a short human male from what you can assume, eyes you from head to toe.

“He’s Lord Astarion to you.” spawn responds in a gruff voice and you can’t help but chuckle with amusement.

“Is he now. I don’t recall Astarion wanting me to call him by his titles before.” you tease and red eyes flash at you with a threat, making you wonder if this type of loyalty comes from the man himself or if he’s been beaten into such submission and dog-like piety.

A pause while the spawn considers your words or maybe simply tries to soothe his own rage before he makes a scene at his perceived insolence towards his Master.

“What do you want?” he finally repeats with a more leveled tone and you clear your throat, trying to be patient. After all you expected to be scrutinized for your sudden appearance at the gate.

“I want to see Lord Astarion.” you don’t hide the mockery in your voice but seems this insults the spawn less than your lack of formal etiquette towards the Vampire Lord.

“Master does not want to see you.”

This makes you raise your eyebrows. You don’t know why you’re surprised that Astarion knows you’re here. Most likely he’s even watching this interaction from one of the luxurious windows, meant to give him all the privacy in the world.

“Your master can suck it up for ten minutes, I am sure.” you know you sound irritated and despite your best effort – you are. He went about looking for you so feverishly before only to deny seeing you now, when you’re at his door, literally wanting to see him? You find this behavior quite childish and it annoys you.

“You insolent whore-“ the spawn stops and as you look at the man you notice a strange red glow in his eyes as his features smooth out from rage to indifference in a single moment, as if he’s listening to something very carefully. And then it’s over, whatever trance he was in is gone, the bloody glow of his eyes fades to almost nothing and spawn frowns at you. “Very well, you may enter. But you will have to give up your weapons.”

You part-scoff, part-laugh at this and raise your eyebrows.

“Does Astarion think me stupid? I’m not giving up my defenses while entering a literal vampire lair.” you respond without delay, then watch for several seconds as the same trance overtakes the spawn and then he sighs heavily, clearly extremely annoyed. You suspect his Master is talking to him, telepathically or maybe through some other vampiric bond, but you couldn’t care less. Fact remains – Astarion is part of this conversation.

“Why are you here?”

“I’d rather tell that to a master himself and not his slave.” your response grants you a death glare from the spawn and you can literally hear him grinding his teeth but after a moment he moves.

You watch the man unlock the gate with movement that seems forced, but he does so anyway, opening the iron barrier separating vampires from the rest of the world and you feel a split second of dread as you step inside. You nearly flinch when the gate is closed and shut in quick succession.

“Follow me.” the spawn instructs and you do as he says, following him to the massive wooden door adorned with decorative iron vines. You don’t have a chance to look closer but they seem like rat tails to you before one side of the door is opened just enough to let you and the spawn in.

Inside your footsteps echo off the high walls that have expensive looking paintings on them. Golden candelabras and satin chair cushions don’t intrigue you much as you pass them, more focusing on possible escape routes if things turn for the worst. Just for a split second you wonder if you’re making a huge mistake. After all, Astarion threatened to turn you into his spawn, now you’re coming here alone and you’re not too sure that your blades and spells will keep you alive if the Vampire Lord decides to try claiming you as his once more.

Still, you follow the silent spawn through the corridors, noting windows and doors and memorizing your route to the exit. You notice some servants bustling about, they don’t look very vampiric to you and you wonder why would living beings serve a monster willingly. Yet you don’t get a chance to ponder upon this for long as your guide stops and turns to you, finally slipping off his hood to reveal a gaunt, pale face that would be handsome if not for otherwise so clearly visible hunger. The shadow cast by his hook truly hid how horrific he looks, smoothening out the edges of his sharp features.

“Go.” he commands and walks past you, now utterly disinterested.

You wait until his footsteps fade from your hearing and open the door, remembering how Astarion didn’t knock either when coming to see you. When you step inside you are greeted by the most luxurious room you probably have ever seen. It’s clearly a bedroom with the bed situated at the end of the room, a massive wooden piece of furniture that could probably comfortably welcome a family of twelve if not more. In white silk sheets you see Astarion. He’s dressed in a wonderfully embroidered set of blue and black, a glass in his hand. His feet are bare as he lounges against the innumerable count of pillows and he’s grinning at you.

“Come closer, my little assassin.” he croons and you raise an eyebrow but do walk closer, taking note of wine bottles strewn around on tables and floor, seeing a pile of clothes by a massive ornamented closet, noticing what looks like bloodstains around the bed, sheets of it in disarray but unstained. As you get even closer you notice a limp hand, hidden behind the corner of the bed but you’re not shocked at that, you knew where you were coming.

When you finally stop in front of Astarion with your eyes sweeping over his relaxed form, you are reminded of rich slobs you were sometimes forced to service. All sloth and vanity. Except Astarion is much more handsome even while he looks like he’s hiding his lethargy behind a smirk.

“Crawling back to me, aren’t you, darling?” he taunts and you frown slightly, then make a show of looking down at yourself and back at him.

“I’m not on my knees, Astarion.” your eyes meet his and vampire dismisses your words with a wave of his hand, his smirk now fading and his face showing nothing but boredom. It’s quite a change compared to how you saw him last: full of attitude and determination.

“You will be soon enough.” he responds as if he’s already tired of this conversation and takes a sip of whatever it is in his glass. “What do you want?”

“I have questions.”

“Questions? What if I don’t want to answer them?”

“Then I will leave.”

Your answer gives Astarion a pause and you see that there’s a strange spark in his eyes.

And then he throws his glass at you.

You manage to duck just in time, thankful for your quick reflexes and you raise your eyebrows at this outburst. But before you can say anything Astarion jumps out of bed, his feet making a heavy thud on a carpeted floor and he marches straight up to you, making you tense and your muscles coil tight like a spring.

“Leave? Leave?! That’s all you can do, little assassin, can’t you?” he spits his words like venom and while you’re not surprised, you are still taken aback a tiniest bit.

“Are you still so bitter about it?” you can’t help but ask and Astarion points an angry finger at your face. You notice there’s blood under his fingernails and when you look at him again, this time much closer, you see that his hair is less than immaculately put, his outfit, while lavish, is crumpled and not properly buttoned. Was he sulking this entire time after you saw him last? And if so, then why?

“I’m not bitter!” vampire hisses through his clenched teeth and suddenly grabs the front of your leather armor, making a mouse-like squeak with his fingers as he grips onto it. “I just don’t appreciate when arrogant, pathetic mortals think they can deny me.”

“Let go of me.” you immediately demand, making sure that your face is serious and without a hint of surprise or unease that you actually are beginning to feel.

“Or what?” he snarls at you but you remain still, your eyes staring into his with dangerous reassurance that you won’t sheepishly stand here if he doesn’t comply.

“Or I will find out on my own if a vampire with a beating heart can be killed like his more undead counterparts.”

Silence falls so heavily between the two of you that you hear clock ticking as if it’s right against your ear. Astarion’s eyes don’t move from yours for a long moment and then he finally lets go of your chest piece, wiping his hand on his shirt with a scowl, giving you a look of a wounded prideful animal.

“You would not be able to harm me even if you tried.” he finally says and walks away from you, to the table with countless bottles obscuring even the color of wood.

He briefly rummages until he finds a not empty bottle and finds a glass, sniffing at it, then pouring red liquid in. From where you stand you see that it’s merely wine, but you use the chance to glance at your leather armor and to your surprise you notice marks, crescent moons of Astarion’s nails that he left cut into tough leather of your armor.

“What are you?” you decide to get to the point right away before he gets another one of his rages and Astarion ignores you for a long moment, swirling the wine in his glass, giving it a sniff again, then taking a long, seemingly enjoyable swallow before he looks back at you once again.

“I’m a Vampire Ascendant, darling, and there no other vampires like me, I’ll let you know.” he responds, sounding quite casual about it and you watch him get back to the bed, getting on it, leaning back on his countless pillows.

Driven by curiosity, you approach his side of the bed and cross arms on your chest.

“And what does that mean?” you raise an eyebrow and Astarion waves his hand dismissively before letting it rest in his lap, his eyes again on the glass of wine.

“It means I can do whatever the hell I want, darling.” he falls silent and when you don’t reply he sighs slightly then gives you a grin that to you looks tired, near exhausted. What was he doing these past weeks, you wonder to yourself. “I don’t have the sanguine hunger, I don’t have to fear the sun. Does that explain it to your tiny, incapable brain?” he taunts and it takes everything in you not to frown.

“Thank you for answering me.” you say politely, making him roll his eyes, but before you can stop yourself you blurt out the question that suddenly materialized in your mind. “So what is it that you want from me if not my blood?”

Astarion finally looks back at you, a deep frown etches into his beautiful features, his lips twisting into a soundless snarl.

“I don’t want you, you stupid slut.” he lashes out to no surprise. “I can have you if I wish for it, but I don’t want you or need you. You were fun to play with until you decided to be insufferable.”

“Just because I’m not on my knees sucking your dick with devotion?” you raise your eyebrows at him and Astarion freezes as if you slapped him, then he grins at you. His smirk is cold, menacing and taunting once again.

“If you think I need another waiting mouth for me to defile then you’re wrong, I have plenty of those already. You…” he trails off and waves his hand around while he tries to pick his words. “…you were amusing when I met you. But I prefer my women to be of a more submissive type, my dear.” he says and you can tell he’s lying. You can tell because you see his forced act of nonchalance while he’s sitting in a room befitting not a Vampire Lord but a sloth. And maybe it’s your arrogance that makes you assume he’s in this state because of you, but so far you have seen nothing else to indicate that it’s not true.

“You don’t want me, you don’t need me, yet you chased after me twice already. Why?”

“Maybe I like a challenge, but only if I’m bored.”

“I suppose I’m not as easy of a challenge as you expected.” you smirk at him and get another deathly glare from Astarion.

“No, you were not.” he admits unexpectedly and you raise an eyebrow at that.

“So you have given up then, is that right?”

“What, you want me to continue pursuing you?” he grimaces a mean smile and you nearly roll your eyes at him.

“No, I’d prefer if you didn’t. I only came here because your state of undead left me with questions.” the moment this sentence leaves your mouth you realize you are lying and not unlike Astarion himself.

You wanted to see him again, you wanted to talk to him again. You shove this realization deep to the back of your mind. You don’t want to admit it, not even to yourself, that you’re drawn to him like moth to the flame, because you know that if you give in – it might be the last thing you do while you have free will. You know you shouldn’t let him get close, no matter how hard your heart beats in your chest when you’re near Astarion, no matter how your palms sweat as if you’re once again a young elven girl having a crush.

No.

But seems Astarion’s keen eyes, or maybe even his vampiric senses, caught onto something within your soul. He doesn’t reply for a long moment as his eyes study your face, his form unmoving, not even a twitch of a muscle, but then it passes, you collect yourself, remind yourself why you’re here and that he’s a bloody vampire and Astarion frowns.

“You got answer to your damned questions, now go.” his crimson gaze moves back to the glass he’s holding and then he takes a sip, clearly indicating that the conversation is over.

“Hold on, I still want to know-“

You don’t get to finish your sentence, interrupted by the door to the bedroom swinging open and spawn entering. When you look to your side, you see there’s two of them, neither of them being the one who you met at the gate.

“Remove her from my home.” Astarion says in a tone of voice that indicates boredom but you’re not quite sure if he’s simply not pretending again.

“Fine, I’ll go.” you speak up, still not being able to make Astarion look at you. “And I hope I never see you again, you monster.” you throw your words like daggers in sudden anger. He’s throwing you out like a dog and your pride is hurt, but you also realize that’s what he wants, to get back at you.

Yet at your words Astarion finally does look up at you, malicious glee in his eyes and smile.

“Oh I’m confident you’re hoping for exactly that. Because when we meet again, I am not sure I will be able to resist wringing your neck until your spine snaps.” his voice is low and a clear threat.

You huff at that, sharply tilting your head but before you say or do anything else, you get a grip on your anger and straighten your shoulders.

“We will see about that.” is the last thing you say before you turn on your heel and walk towards the two awaiting spawn.

“Ta-ta!” you hear Astarion laughing with so much arrogance it makes your blood boil, but you let the spawn lead you out of the bedroom and when the door behind you closes – you still hear the Vampire Lord laughing at your departure.

Once outside and with the gate again securely locked, you glance back at the mansion, trying to count which windows are those of Astarion’s bedroom, wondering if he’s watching you, but you don’t linger and begin walking away, your own anger boiling as you squeeze your fingers into fists.

That insolent bastard.

For his sake you wish you two never meet again.

And maybe, just maybe, for your own too.

[karahalloway]

Sleepless in New York: Chapter 5 - Find Me In Da Club

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: The gang arrive at the much-awaited club... where there are a few surprises in store for Drake.

Word Count: 4,400

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, rude behaviour, angst, sexual tension)

Chapter theme song:

A/N: Apologies this took me so long! August ended up being quite a busy month, so I didn’t get as much writing done as I wanted to. Also... this is not the whole chapter 😅 Because this installment was getting close to 7,000 words (and it was still not done!) I decided to split it into two chapters to (a) give y’all something to read, since you’ve been waiting so patiently (or not, in some cases 😆), (b) make the posting on Tumblr a bit more manageable, and (c) this way I could use both chapter theme songs that I could not for the life of me decide between! The next chapter should be up a bit faster because it’s about half done already, and my schedule should be back to a bit more normal from September 🤞

Chapter 5 - Find Me In Da Club

"Let me guess..." I sigh, picking up the tumbler to tip the rest of my drink back. "Max's bright idea?"

I know that going clubbing was the original plan. But I guess I kinda hoped we'd have more time on our impromptu detour... Especially since Gale’s finally talking to me, and I don’t want to lose the hard-won progress I managed to make with her.

Plus — as she so aptly put it just now — I’m nowhere near satisfied yet and I want to keep her to myself for as long as possible...

"Nope!" declares Leo impishly. "It was actually the girls' suggestion. And it'd be rude to keep them waiting. So, chop-chop!"

"Alright, alright," I grumble, dropping the glass back onto the bar top and reaching for my wallet. "I'll be over in a minute."

"Better make it a New York minute," Leo advises with a clap on my back. "Because it'd be mighty bad form for the best man to miss the climax of the night!"

He saunters off with a rakish wink in Gale's direction.

I roll my eyes as I pull the platinum credit card out again.

If there’s one thing that Chris didn't need help with, it’s finding a hook-up... Which is why I bet on him last night.

But Leo’s right in that I probably shouldn't hang around too long. Because this trip had been my idea, and as the de facto best man (even though it hasn’t officially been announced yet), it’s my job to make sure that Chris gets the best night out that the Big Apple can provide...

...and that he also makes it back to the hotel — and to Cordonia — on time and in one piece, and ideally without any recreational drugs floating around in his system. Otherwise, the plane ride back (not to mention the all-important Masquerade Ball) is going to be rough as fuck for everyone involved.

"So, you're here... on a bachelor party?" asks Gale, her voice cutting through my thoughts.

"Yeah," I reply, raising my hand to signal my desire to settle up with the bartender.

"And you're the best man."

"Yup..." I confirm, tapping the card against the bar top as I wait for the guy to print off the receipt.

She cocks her head to the side with a frown. "You don't seem very happy about it..."

I respond with a nonchalant shrug. "It is what it is. How I feel about it isn't important."

"Shouldn't it be?"

Turning my head, I catch her gaze. She's looking at me with laser-like focus — like she had last night when she'd been trying to decipher where I was from... Only this time it feels like she’s trying to get a read on my very soul.

I quickly break eye contact. "No."

"Why n—?"

"Cash or card?" asks the bartender, cutting off Gale with impeccable timing as he places the cheque in front of me.

"Card," I reply, quickly scanning the list of items to make sure everything’s in order.

Christ, this girl’s more persistent than a dog with a bone...

But I can’t exactly tell her that I’m best man to a prince at the mercy of tradition, and the last thing I’m looking forward to doing is standing by Chris' side in a few months' time, pretending to be happy for him while I officially and irrevocably witness his marriage to a blue-nosed social climber in front of God, his family, and the entire kingdom.

Because we’re supposed to be here incognito, and I’m not gonna risk my best friend's last night of freedom by blowing his cover to some girl I only just met.

And even if I had been at liberty to talk about the upcoming wedding, and the social season, and how the only reason we’re here at all is because Chris got shafted by his brother, it would be a pointless exercise anyway.

Because talking — about any of it, especially how I said 'yes' to Chris without a second's hesitation, even as I felt my insides burn up with betrayal at the knowledge that I'll be complicit in signing my brother's life away in a loveless marriage of political convenience to a woman he barely knows... or worse, Olivia — isn’t gonna to help me, and it sure as hell isn’t gonna help Chris.

Not when we’re both powerless in the face of the inevitable outcome.

"Thanks," I mutter, pulling the card back out of the machine and stowing it away in my wallet.

Better to just bury whatever resentment I’m feeling at being an unwilling pawn forced to participate in the whole monocratic set-up — next to the same hole I stuffed my bitter rage at Dad's untimely passing, my hurt at Mom's departure, and my guilt-ridden sense of failure at Sav's unexplained disappearance — and try to enjoy what little time I have left with Chris before I lose him too.

"Hey," she says softly, laying a hand on my wrist. "I know it's not my place but—"

"It's not," I confirm gruffly, stuffing the wallet back in my pocket as I stand up. "You comin'?"

She stares at me for a long moment — as if wanting to say something more — but in the end just nods silently before sliding off the bar stool.

"Yeah! The PAR-tay's in da house!" hollers Max, raising the roof. "Whoop-whoop!"

"Now this is what I'm talking about!" agrees Tariq, sweeping his approving gaze around the club.

"Oh, wow!" gushes Gale's brunette friend, who I learnt on the ride over was called Hayley. "Check out the view!"

Chris claps Leo on the shoulder approvingly. "Looks like you picked well, brother."

I had to agree.

If there’s one thing that Leo’s good at — apart from sneaking out of official events and getting into the pants of any girl he sets his sights on — it’s having his finger on the pulse of every major city's nightlife.

And this place is no exception.

Located on the 16th floor of a swanky hotel, the club features floor-to-ceiling windows that lead out onto a large, wrap-around terrace dominated by an oblong hot tub set against an unparalleled view of both the Manhattan skyline and the Hudson.

And even though in real terms it’s still quite early — barely gone 10pm — the venue’s already heaving with what looks like the crème of New York's glitterati. Diamond-studded watches flash in tandem with Bvlgari jewellery under the strobing neon lights as glamorously dressed bodies move to the EDM beat.

In short? We've stepped into a Mecca of excess. And even though the flashy venue with it's high-roller clientele isn’t exactly my scene — you can smell the self-entitlement from the doorway — it’s the perfect place to cap off Chris' night.

Hell, the overall net-worth’s probably so high that no one'd even bat an eye at the fact that a bone fide prince has just waltzed in to join the party!

So, despite everything, I have to hand it to Leo — his days of flaking off have paid off big time. Because the entire club’s basically one oversized VIP area, which means that security’s tight, and I don’t have to worry about spiked drinks, kidnapping attempts, or someone recognising Chris...

...at least, not as much as I would have to normally.

"Ohmygod!" gasps Lucy, grabbing Gale by the arm. "Leo!"

The elder Rys chuckles. "I admit it is a rather divine set—"

Max shoves him out of the way with wide eyes. "Oh, my giddy aunt, you're right!"

"Guess we're not talking about me, huh?" observes Leo dryly, as shrieks of excitement erupt from the rest of Gale's girlfriends as they zero in on whatever it was that has got them all into such a tizzy.

Chris nods his head towards the other side of the club. "I believe it is that gentleman over there who's caught everyone's attention."

Leo follows his brother's gaze. "Ah. Should've guessed. The slightly more famous Leo. He's always stealing the spotlight."

"Undeservedly," mutters Tariq, craning his neck judgementally. "He's not even wearing a suit..."

"So?" counters Lucy tartly. "A suit doesn't make a man. He could be wearing a paper bag and he'd still look hot!"

I can't help but snort at the look on Besnard's face. "Told ya..."

"Keep it in your pants, Luce!" smirks Gale with a shake of her head... though I can see that her gaze is also fixed on the far side of the club.

"I'm just sayin'!"

"Holy shoot!" gasps Hayley, covering her mouth. "Is that Rihanna he's talking to?"

"Didn't they used to date?" asks Jamie quizzically.

"No!" scoffs Lucy. "How can you even—?"

"Come on," interrupts Leo, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll introduce you."

Lucy's mouth drops. "You... know him?"

"Of course!" he affirms, looping his arm through hers and Gale's. "Met him at the UN a few times. Brilliant chap! Just don't ask for photos or autographs."

Gale cocks her head. "The UN? How did y—?"

"It doesn't matter!" squeals Lucy, bouncing up and down like a jackrabbit on crack. "He knows Leonardo DiCaprio! Do you know how long I've been—?"

"You're not seriously going to try and get him onto your podcast again?" asks Gale with a wry quirk of her brow as Leo starts leading the procession away.

"Why not?" comes the objectionable reply. "I'm an environmental commentator, he's an environmental philanthropist. We're a match made in influencer heaven."

Gale throws her head back — exposing her long, slender neck — her laugh ringing out like a bell despite the loud music.

But I don't catch her reply because in the next second, she's pulled into the press, and I lose sight of her amongst all the bodies.

I heave a low breath.

There goes Gale for the rest of the night...

I know I shouldn't be surprised. Especially after I cornered her into coming clean about the crap she'd been through with that dick of a boss, only to shut her down hard her when she tried to return the favour by doing a rundown of my feelings on the upcoming royal wedding.

Because conversation’s a two-way street. And instead of opening up to her — like she opened up to me — I basically told her to fuck off.

And normally I wouldn't give a damn. Because my personal shit’s exactly that — my personal shit. I don’t need people rooting through it like hogs on a muck heap. And if that doesn’t sit well with the counterparty, then they can lump it.

But, for some reason, watching her walk off just now without a backwards glance — even though it’s completely within her rights to do so — feels like a kick in the gut.

I mean, since when the fuck do I care who she talks to? A girl I met yesterday and am never gonna see again after tonight?

It's not like this is a date, or that she owes me anything. Right?

"You coming, mate?" asks Chris, laying a hand on the small of Hayley's back to guide her after the others.

"Nah," I demure. "I'm gonna hit up the bar."

I may have shot up the hard-won progress I managed to make with Gale tonight, but at least I’ll always have whiskey as a consolation prize.

"You sure?" he queries.

"Yeah," I affirm, making quick eye contact with the two undercover Guard to let them know I’m passing Chris over to them. "Don't worry about me."

"Alright..." he concedes, eyeing me sceptically...

...but I've already turned away.

I know he knows that something’s up.

But Chris had more important things to do, like actually enjoy his unofficial bachelor party in the company of a girl who he obviously hit it off with back at the karaoke bar, instead of listening to me piss and moan about things that are — and always have been — set in stone.

Best that I just take my irritations and drown them in booze. Alone. Like I always do.

Threading my way through the crowd, I arrive at the busy bar area, and I feel a growl of annoyance slip out of me at the sight of the heaving mass of humanity before me.

Just fuckin' great...

But, short of forking out roughly five grand for table service — assuming we can even get a table on such a busy night — there’s no alternative.

Steeling myself, I dive into the press, trying to avoid sloshing drinks and stiletto heels as I battle my way to the front.

This is the biggest reason why I avoid clubs like the plague. It isn’t the loud music. It isn’t the dancing. It’s the fact that the bar’s always swamped and you have to fight tooth and nail to get your hands on a hastily prepared drink that you can have for half-price anywhere else.

It's all for Chris, I remind myself stoically as I squeeze myself into the tight space that’s just opened up in front of me. You can suck it up for one night, Walker.

Leaning onto the minimalist, polished brass bar top, I try to catch the closest bartender's attention...

...but just as I manage to make eye contact, a wad of cash gets thrust in front of my face by an over-manicured fist, narrowly missing my nose.

"Oi! Murudda!" cries a female voice from next to me in the perfect octave to carry above the thumping techno music and general shouted conversation. "You deaf, or somethin'? I said we need tequila, pronto!"

"We got Casamigos, Patrón, or Jose Cuervo," calls the bartender in response while sloshing gold-flecked vodka into a row of shot glasses.

I feel my jaw tighten. This is how people got served, huh?

"Make that Maker's Mark, double," I holler back, angling myself back in front of the interloping woman.

I'm rewarded for my asperity with a nod from the other side of the bar. "Coming right up!"

"What the fuck, shit face?" objects the girl shrilly, giving me a shove. "Am I invisible, or somethin'?"

"Nope," I reply as I pull my wallet from my jeans. "Just rude and obnoxious."

Her mouth drops. "What did you just say to me?!"

"The truth," I hit back, pulling some cash out. "You cut up about a dozen people back there. And nearly broke my nose waving your hundred bucks around like you owned the place."

"How 'bout I break your nose for real, jackass?" she snaps, getting up in my face. "Teach you some respect, huh?"

"Respect is earned, missy," I tell her calmly, exchanging the bills for the tumbler of Maker's Mark that is deposited in front of me. "And gettin' into a fight over a drink ain't how you get it."

Grabbing the whiskey, I turn pointedly away, not bothering to wait for whatever outburst she was gearing up to throw my way.

Un-fuckin'-believable...

I know that New Yorkers have a reputation for being brash and impatient. But that woman had been next level.

And I want to put as much distance between us as possible because I have no time — and even less interest — in getting caught up in a shouting match with a pissed-off Karen.

Slaloming myself between bodies, I make my way back to the others.

Arriving at the back of the club, I pause in a slightly quieter corner to do a sweep of the crowd, quickly spotting the now disparate members of our group. Leo’s stood off to one side, in solitary conversation with DiCaprio. Max is busy channeling his inner Travolta in the middle of a small but growing circle of onlookers. Lucy and Jamie are...making out on the dancefloor?

Huh. Did not see that one coming...

Normally I’m good at picking up on these things. But, I’m admittedly more distracted than usual...

Lifting the whiskey to my mouth, I continue my sweep of the club. Tariq’s trying — and failing — to flag down one of the VIP servers by waving his gold credit card around like a moron. Meanwhile, Chris has parked himself on a chaise long in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and is in deep conversation with Hayley about something, the two undercover Guard standing a few feet away.

The only person I can’t see is Gale.

Had she left?

I shake my head irately.

It doesn’t matter, dumbass.

She’a a grow-ass woman and can do whatever the fuck she wants. Up to and including heading off the rails, or even home with a hookup. She doesn’t need my oversight or my permission...

...even if the thought of her being felt up by some guy makes my teeth clench.

I throw the rest of the bourbon back angrily.

I know I shouldn't care. I know it’s none of my business. I know I have no right.

But something about this girl wipes all the God-given sense from my brain.

Hell, I barely know anything about her apart from her name and the fact that she’s pissed at me — again — yet all I can think about is ripping that flimsy crop top off and layering my hot and heavy apology all over her body until she’s begging me for salvation as she—

A sharp clink rends the air.

Glancing down at the empty tumbler in my hand, I see that a hairline fracture had appeared down one side.

Fuck.

This isn’t good.

I need air. Now.

Throwing myself out onto the terrace — before I shattered the glass completely — I’m hit in the face by the humid evening breeze.

But it does little to tame my pulse, or the latest iteration of the graphic fantasy that I can’t seem to get away from, no matter how hard I tried...

...which — if I’m honest with myself — isn’t very hard at all.

Because let's face it. The girl’s a pipe-dream. That I keep blowing up. So, an X-rated reverie’s the closest I’m ever gonna get to the real thing with her.

May as well keep on dreamin'...

I make it to the end of the terrace. Dropping the empty glass onto a nearby planter, I reach out and grasp the coolness of the metal and glass railing as I gaze out over the picture-perfect Manhattan skyline without really seeing it.

Instead, the mental images continue to dance in front of me, haunting me like ghosts.

Gale swaying her hips between my legs at the karaoke bar...

Gale looking up at me from the back seat of the taxi, her lips parted, her eyes pulling me in like the cusp of an event horizon...

Gale pushed up against the wall, moaning as my hands explored every—

I clench my eyes shut. Christ... I’m in too deep. I should never've—

"Drake?"

My head snaps around.

Gale — the real Gale — is stood next to me, face creased in concern. "Are you... okay?"

"Fine," I reply, tightening my grip on the railing as I look out into the night again.

I’m the furthest thing from fine. My palms are sweating, my gut feels like it's been tied in knots, and my heart’s going a million miles a minute.

But like hell am I gonna tell her any of that.

"Are you sure?" she asks sceptically. "Because you looked like you were going to throw your guts up over the side of the building just now..."

I snort wryly. "Trust me, I'm good."

The irony of the situation isn’t lost on me.

Neither is the fact that — just like Chris — she seems to have an uncanny habit of being able to read me like an open book... which is weirdly unnerving.

"If you say so, Dr House," she deadpans, lifting her arms up to rest them on the railing next to mine. "But just so we're on the safe side, I'm gonna keep you under observation."

I heave a breath. "Gale, you don't need t—"

"I do," she says softly, glancing up at me. "Because I want to apologise."

I reel back, dumbfounded. "Apologise? What in the hell for?"

"For trying to pry about something that's obviously a sore subject for you," she explains. "I should've just taken the hint and—"

"No," I interject, turning to face her. "You did nothing wrong. I gave you an answer you weren't expecting, so you tried to dive deeper. It was a completely natural reaction to have."

"Then why have you been giving me the cold shoulder for the past hour?" she asks patently.

"I..." I rake my hand through my hair with a sigh. "Because you're right. It is kind of a sore subject for me. But I'm not at liberty to talk about it."

She raises a brow. "Because of the bro-code?"

I blink. Who is this girl?

She throws her head back with a laugh. "Oh, don't look so surprised, bud! I grew up with three older brothers — I know all about your 'secret' ride or die rules." She raises her hands to emphasise 'secret' with sardonic air quotes. "So, I can respect the fact that you don't want to bad-mouth the groom — even if you think he's about to make the biggest mistake of his life."

"Erm, thanks," I mutter finally, managing to recollect myself. "For understanding. Most people wouldn't."

She shrugs up at me with a smile. "I'm not most people."

I swallow. Hard. Don't I know it.

She's close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off her body, taste the sweet earthiness of her perfume drifting over me, see the chestnut-coloured flecks that ring her irises as I stare into her eyes.

But as strong as the undercurrent of attraction is, I can't let myself get lost in the pull of possibility. Not 'til I've squared my accounts.

"Even so." I pause to clear the sudden hoarseness from my throat. "I shouldn't've cold shouldered you like I did. It was a dick move, and... and I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "Drake, you don't need t—"

"But I want to," I insist, closing what gap remained between us on autopilot.

"Does that mean you're planning to make it up to me?" she whispers, her breath tickling my mouth as she tilts her face up towards mine.

"One hundred percent," I confirm, reaching up to brush away that same lock of hair that had escaped her up-do again. "I still owe you a proper apology."

Her eyes search mine.

I hold her gaze… waiting… wondering what she'll say.

A slow smile curves at her lips. "In that case, cowboy," she declares, flicking her finger over the underside of my jaw, "you can break it down for me on the dancefloor."

My eyes widen. "Wait... What?"

This isn’t what I'd been expecting. At all.

Her telling me to fuck off? Sure. Buying her a drink, a late-night dinner... Hell, even going back to her place for Netflix and chill had all been on the cards...

But dancing?

At a club?

Especially after she stormed out halfway through my karaoke routine?

No fuckin' way.

"What's the matter, Walker?" she purrs slyly. "You only do solo acts?"

I scoff. "No."

"Should I ask the DJ to put on some Rod Stewart?" she continues conversationally. "Get you in the mood?"

I suppress a groan. "No."

I knew that song choice was gonna come back and bite me in the ass.... I just hadn't expected it to be so soon. But, I guess I deserve it.

"Or do you need to take your shirt off?" She trails her finger down across the buttons at the front with a smirk. "Make yourself more comfortable?"

"Why?" I counter, leaning in. "Is that what you want, Gale...?"

Her eyes widen in the face of my sudden flip of the proverbial table.

"...because if you're lookin' to undress me, there's easier ways to do it," I remind her pointedly, dropping my hands onto the railing on either side of her.

Despite her initial frazzlement, she recovers quickly to meet my gaze coyly. "What makes you think I want to undress you?"

I feel a smile pull at the corner of my mouth. She wants to play it like that, huh?

"You mean apart from the fact that it's written all over you?"

She lifts her chin defiantly. "I think you're imagining things, bud."

"Funny you should say that," I reply with a lupine grin, bending low. "Because I'll bet my bottom dollar that right now, all you're imaginin' is skipping the unnecessary foreplay and diving straight into the main event..."

I hear her breath catch in her throat at the thinly veiled invitation.

"...which is that pool party, right there." I incline my head meaningfully towards the hot tub.

Her jaw drops.

I pull back with a smirk. Turnabout’s fair play, girl.

But in the next instant, that mischievous sparkle ignites her gaze again. And before I can blink, she's up in my space, calling my bluff as she hooks her finger through the front of my shirt.

My heart-rate jumps to 100.

"Or maybe I'm just looking to make you sweat, Walker..." she breathes against my mouth.

All the blood in my veins dives south.

"...and I don't want you to ruin your fancy shirt." She gives the material a sharp tug.

I groan despite myself. Fuck, baby, you can ruin all my shirts...

But before I can grab her, or kiss her, or react in any way, she's already spun away with a sassy smile, pinging the cotton against my chest. "Because you probably got just the one."

I let out an explosive breath.

Sweet Jesus. Somebody needs to put a warning label on this girl!

Because while I can think of a dozen better ways to spend the night than getting bumped around on an overcrowded dancefloor like a pissed off pin ball, my feet are already pulling me back across the terrace after her.

Like the hooked idiot that I am.

Because I can’t say 'no' to her.

And she knows it.

Which meant I’m royally screwed.

The story continues in Chapter 6 - Let It Whip

Translations:

- Murudda = idiot / shit for brains

Permatags (let me know if you want to be added!)

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Sleepless in New York only (let me know if you want to be added!)

@bebepac @lilacsandwhiskey @katedrakeohd

Picture credits

Dancing - Rooftop - H&D - Drake - Bar - Harper - Skyline - Drinks

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Dark Shenanigans - Nandor x (f)reader

Summary: It’s Nadja’s something hundredth birthday, with that said, you’re on a mission to make it great.

Warning: fluff, general vampire nonsense

Masterlist

“Yeah being a half vampire half human does have its perks. I mean for one I can do all that cool vampire shit and I can go out in the sunlight...so that helps for when they’re all being really annoying.” You admit with a casual shrug to one of the documentary cameras before turning to an isle of party supplies. “So anyways we’re at this store.”

The camera shifts to the multiple arras of supplies and materials at the local supermarket in Staten Island that you and your vampire lover’s human familiar, Guillermo, currently are. Specifically on the hunt for birthday decorations for Nadja and ghost Nadja who’s possessed a strange looking doll for the time being.

Since the other four actual full vampires can’t shop for themselves at this time of day or really in general, you and Guillermo have been given such an honorable task in making Nadja’s birthday the best one yet. Considering she’s the most well balanced in the head out of the four of them and is the only other lady of the manor.

“Hey Y/N, how’s this look?” Wonders Guillermo as he holds up a bunch of Mardi Gras beads of yellows, purples, and greens. “Comments, questions, concerns?” He adds with a small smile.

Eyeing up the beads, your head shifts over to the other various colors, “Hrmm, G I’m feeling the vibe you’re going for this year and I like it, but let’s go with Nadja colors.”

Guillermo’s dark eyes light up at your positive suggestion, “Right! So the red and black ones then?”

“Yup. She’ll love that shit.” You state with a satisfied nod of approval, “Let’s get some black and gold confetti from over there and oh, those masquerade masks look cool as fuck.”

You pick up and test out various masks in the background as Guillermo adds some bits of dialogue for the documentary crew, “Um yeah she’s really cool isn’t she.” He says with a smile while glancing at you then back to the camera, “Which is kind of odd since Y/N’s been with Nandor since 1793 so you’d think she’d be a little more like them but no, she’s super chill and really nice.” Suddenly his face goes a bit serious as he leans in to whisper, “But she did kill a whole street gang once when they threw a slur at me so I wouldn’t mess with her. For your safety.”

The camera pans back over to an oblivious you who’s put on a masquerade mask and is swinging a plastic light saber around with a whole lot more accuracy and grace then would a normal person. The camera then pans back to Gullimero, “Um, I’m just gonna....make sure she doesn’t smack anyone.”

——

Arms full of groceries of food for you and Gullimero, as well as random party decorations for Nadja’s birthday tomorrow night, you use the bottom of your boot to skillfully open the door as the documentary crew and Guillermo follows suit. Guillermo now on the verge of falling over with the large heart shaped pillow in his arms that’s covering most of his body.

You don’t feel tired in the slightest due to your half vampiric abilities so this is nothing to you, “Alright.” You state, turning on your heel to face the crew and Guillermo, “They’re asleep so we gotta be extra sneaky now, I don’t want Nadja catching us with all this cool spooky birthday shit. Everyone to the attic!” You whisper yell before leading the charge to the attic.

They all follow as quietly and as quickly as they can and then soon enough in no time are you and Guillermo back outside in the sunny garden trying to figure out if you should blow up the giant sea monster pool floaty.

“I mean it would look cool as hell and no doubt out-do whatever the fuck boring thing Lazlo probably has planned.” You quip with a shrug while the two of you stare thoughtfully at the small gloomy dark pond. “He’s got no chance with us. I’ve won best decorator and card maker for two hundred years in a row.”

Guillermo side eyes you in honest amazement, “Wow that’s a lot of years. And cards.”

“I know. I was an artist in the 12th century but my no good terrible good for nothing piece of garbage trash sexist human husband, who I was forced to marry when I was only sixteen, took all the credit for my artwork in that era.” You confirm with a growl, “But it stings less because once I finally grew into my powers and strength at eighteen I simply made his untimely demise look like an accident.” You add with a smirk.

“Oh, wow.” Mutters the intrigued familiar.

“Precisely. The old fool was thrown off his horse because I told Philip, the horse, to throw him off. And he did. Which killed the idiot so I got the house and all of his money.”

“That’s......neat.” Mutters Guillermo as he shoots the camera crew from behind you and him a nervous look. “Uh the suns going down so I should probably help Nandor out of his coffin.”

Raising your head to the sky you immediately see how the sun has begun to paint the clouds in beautiful colors of oranges, reds, light pinks, and darkening purples. “Oh, how bout that. Yeah alright let’s get inside.” You nod to Guillermo before turning to walk towards the manor’s giant mahogany doors.

——

Turning the handle and walking a couple feet into the large main room that holds itself as a sort of crossroads for all the other various connecting hallways and staircases. You don’t make it even three more steps towards the left ascending staircase before you hear the highly recognizable voice of your one and only.

“Y/N! My lovely wife and favorite person still ever so lovely!” Announces Nandor loudly with a grand smile showing off his pearly white fangs, “How I have missed you and your morning kisses. Where have you been off to?” He wonders softly as you smile a big dumb love-struck grin right back up at him, you’d absolutely die to hear that accent one last time.

“I can’t tell you right now it’s a secret!” You whisper yell back, causing his thick dark brows to scrunch up in confusion.

“But I am your lovely strong puff dragon Y/N.” Whines Nandor adorably as you roll your eyes at the cameras before looking back up at him.

“Fine. Come here then.”

In an instant he’s at your side, excitedly awaiting what secretive news you will tell him, “Okay, so we know it’s Nadja’s birthday tomorrow right?”

“Yes. I remember because she hasn’t shut up about it.”

“Right. So me and Gullimero got some fun surprise birthday party decorations and they’re in the attic and we can’t tell Nadja.”

Nandor gives you a knowing look of affirmation as he leans in closer to you, his demeanor suddenly shifting into a more saddened one, “You went shopping without me?” He says quietly.

Leaning up to give him a quick peck on the cheek your hands instantly find his, “Just for a little while, but I still need to find more stuff so....you wanna come?”

Nandor’s big dark eyes light up with joy as you hand him a kind smile, “Yes! Let us go in search of unknown treasures for our lady friend Nadja so she will not be mad at us for terrible dull gifts of friendship.”

Laughing you give his hands a playful squeeze, “Come on I’ll race you to Party City!” You say before leading him past the camera crew and Guillermo who simply watches the two of you leave, glad to have an hour of peace.

“There’s a whole city for partying? Y/N why have we never been to this place?”

——

“Y/N there are no people partying here.” Whines your vampire lover in puzzlement as he follows you from the entrance to a side isle. “You said this was a city for partying.”

“That’s just the name of the store Nans.” You retort with a small chuckle as he looks from right to left at all the color coded party plates and napkins galore.

“Well the title is very misleading.”

“Agreed.”

Turning to the right you guide him towards the decretory pirate themed isle in search of something that will peak his interest. Also you wanted so badly to make it to this spot but Gullimero was a man on a mission so your intention was thwarted for when you had Nandor with you.

Speed walking down the pirate themed isle you quickly halt all movement as Nandor’s large body stops within less than an inch from your back. Smiling brightly you snatch the desired object in front of you and as swift as a cat turn to face him.

“Have you come for a dual my old enemy?” You speak slyly, eyes narrowed as you hold the foam sword right in front of his face. “I sense a nervousness about you. Tell me, are you ready to face your inevitable bloody end?”

Staring at the pointy foam, his dark puppy eyes shift over to you as an adorable fangy grin breaks out across his pale face, “Seems you have come prepared, oh radiant and alluring seductress. Well, so have I!” Shouts Nandor before grabbing two foam swords from off the rack and swinging them in both hands like a mad man.

Taking a cautious step back you hold your pathetic five dollar sword in both hands like a true warrior ready for battle, “Only one shall leave this place alive.” You affirm with a smirk, “And it’s not going to be you.”

“Arrrrrggg.” Bellows your lover as he charges you like the true conqueror that he once was. But all to soon do you swiftly duck under his arms and swat him over his stomach with a confident thwack sound.

He makes a puny little “oww” as you turn around to face him once again, “Y/N you hit me kind of hard.” He complains, looking rather defeated and genuinely hurt that you could have intentionally injured him on purpose.

Bringing the plastic weapon down to your side once again, your face suddenly softens as you walk over to him, “Come here you big baby.” You quip sincerely as he leans down so you can give his cheek a quick kiss.

Rising back to his full height, Nandor almost blushes as the corners of his eyes crinkle into a happy smile, “Actually it didn’t hurt at all I just wanted you to kiss me.” Reveals the vampire with a proud grin as you simply roll your eyes.

“Should have known.” You add before turning and snatching up four more plastic foam pirate swords for the others. “Alright let’s get outta here, follow me my love, to the checkout line we shall purchase our weapons of war and partying on the high seas.” You announce with gusto as Nandor stands proudly at your side, ready to follow you anywhere.

“Yes. To check out.”

——

Kicking open the unlocked door, Nandor bursts into the vampire residence with bags full of goodies for Nadja’s birthday party. You right behind him but less dramatically, “We’re back!” You shout to no one in particular as Colin Robinson suddenly appears from out of nowhere, looking ready to leave with his funny little hat and usual beige jacket.

“Oh hey guys,” He starts with a friendly nod, “I’m just heading out on the town tonight. I guess there’s a fair or something in the park and I wanted to test my skill at the ball toss. I’ve been reading up on the body mechanics and how the game is set up which seems pretty basic all in all. Also I really want to win a stuffed bear this time, it might add a little pizazz to my room. Welp see ya’round.” Adds Colin before walking past the two of you without another word and out into the night he goes with some of the camera crew following close behind.

Nandor turns to you with a look of annoyance, “Jeesh I thought he would never leave. Let’s go to your room I want to kiss you some more now.”

“Why my room?”

“Because since you are half vampire you get to sleep in a bed and because I am a full vampire I sleep in a coffin.” Inquires Nandor while looking at you with those big beautiful dark eyes of his, “And my coffin is too small for cuddles so your room will suffice.”

“Yeah that’s a fair point.” You shrug before following him to your room.

After many cuddles leading to other more rated R type activities that lasted until just about sunrise, you finally got some well needed rest while the sun shone high in the sky until she began her dramatic descend back into oblivion. Opening your eyes you slowly rise from out of your comfy bed, already missing the presence of your obsidian eyed lover.

He gets too nervous about your closed windows for fear that the sun might burn him which would be impossible because you black out the glass. But alas, he’s very cautious about these types of things and won’t risk it for anything, though he feels bad about leaving you in the morning, you understand.

Suddenly it dawns on you that today or perhaps tonight, is Nadja’s birthday and you completely forgot to set up any decorations. Shit, how stupid. Throwing the blankets off of you, your feet move quick as you speedily change yesterday’s outfit for something a bit nicer and more clean.

Racing out of your room and into the dimly lit manor hallway, you make a bee line for the attic but before you’re able to reach the steps, Guillermo runs into you, just about knocking you into a wall of various stolen ancient weapons. Sharp ones at that.

That was close.

“Y/N are you okay!” Worries the familiar as you quickly gather your bearings.

“Guillermo! The decorations! Nadja’s birthday!” You whisper yell as the human man simply smiles. “Why are you smiling, this situation does not call for smiles.”

“Don’t worry. While you were sleeping I set up all the decorations.” He replies with a shrug, “No problem.”

“What? But that must have taken you all day, you could have asked me for help. I would have come.” Your brows furrow as he shakes his head, though you still feel bad for not helping with anything.

“Well I did try, but um,” Gullimero awkwardly clears his throat, giving the camera a quick glance, “Nandor was with you and last time I asked for you while you and him where having alone time he threatened to carve out my eyeballs and force feed them to me.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance you take a deep breath, “Sounds like him. Very creative when he wants to be, alright, well....where’s everyone?”

“Oh, they’re not up yet. I was actually on my way to get you. I made blood popsicles and the pool floaty is all done and in the pond.” He says with a sense of pride for his decorating skills. “I think she’ll like what we’ve come up with this year.”

-

Standing in the living room with your three fellow immortals you search a dresser for her card, “Oh shit where’s my card? I could have sworn I had it yesterday on my dresser but I don’t remember seeing it there in the morning. Maybe it’s in this one?”

“Witches!” Hisses Nadja as you huff in frustration, where the hell did you put that damn card?

“Oh, Y/N my love,” Intervenes Nandor with a gentle tug of your sleeve, “I took it with me when I left your room before sunrise because I wanted to put my name on it too so she would know it’s from us.”

“What?” Replies Lazlo dramatically, “Now hold on just a damn minute, this card competition is individually scored so I won’t be having any of this nonsense. I worked really hard on mine this year.”

“Oh lick a donkey’s arse, look here,” You retort with, quickly holding up the card for Nadja, “there are two separate drawings on ours so either way if one of us wins she gets both our pictures. So you better hope your drawing doesn’t resemble a night clubs bathroom wall.”

“Yeah.” Mutters Nandor, who’s hiding behind you while resting both hands on either one of your shoulders as you glare at Lazlo.

“Fine.” Agrees Lazlo begrudgingly, “And mine will be amazing, this bitch of paper took me a whole six months to plan and produce. Can’t get quality this good anywhere else I guarantee it.” Adds Lazlo with a firm nod of self approval as you glance at the nearby camera.

“Right, okay everyone sit it’s time for presents. I want to know what you all got me.” Beams Nadja excitedly as she smiles a fangy grin in delight, plopping herself down in one of the arm chairs. Lazlo quickly finding the other one while you and Nandor seat yourself on the large couch. Colin and Guillermo finding somewhere to sit close by respectfully.

“Well, all I can say is hold onto your socks my dear cause this is going to blow you away.” Smirks Lazlo as he pulls a small box from out of his jacket pocket.

“If it’s a self made business card that says invitation to sexy town I will puke.” You deadpan while Nandor laughs from beside you, causing Lazlo to lose his smirk as Nadja hides her amusement the best she can manage.

“He he, sexy town, nice one Y/N.” Mutters Nandor with a proud grin as you raise a brow at Lazlo who’s giving you a hard glare.

“Oh, my dear pumpkin pie love, don’t listen to Y/N I will love anything you gift me.” Encourages Nadja with a bright welcoming smile, no doubt immediately boosting Lazlo’s once irked mood.

Rolling your eyes you shift a bit to find yourself leaning into Nandor’s body as Nadja opens up the rest of the vampire residents various gifts. A joyous fangy smile gracing her pale features every single time, revealing this birthday party was a thrilling success.

After much more fun that just about lasts throughout the whole night, and some rare but hilarious attempts at dancing between the five of you vampiric individuals. You’re feeling rather sleepy and you can tell Nandor is ready for a trip to dreamland as well.

Swaying to the lowly playing record instrumental, you hold Nandor tight while simultaneously enjoying the feeling of him so close, him doing just the same as he keeps you firmly pressed against his chest. His long dark hair tickles your face as he presses his head to your cheek, doing his absolute best to keep the flow without tripping up.

Sensing his growing fatigue, you gently squeeze his hand, “My love the sun will be up soon, let’s get you to bed, yes?”

A small lazy smile tugs at the corners of his lips while he looks down to meet your gaze, “But my dark angel I’m not tired. I want to dance with you a little longer.” He whines adorably before failing to conceal a big yawn.

Giggling, you lean back to slowly lead him towards the door, “That yawn says otherwise.”

“That wasn’t a yawn Y/N, I was just smiling really big.” He protests, though he still follows your lead to the door.

“I’ve never seen anyone smile like that.” You add with a raised brow.

“Well maybe that’s just how I smile.”

Letting out a breathy snort, you pull away from him to at last take his one hand, “Come. I can’t have a single ray of that dreaded sun to get a taste of your precious skin. Not on my watch.”

Glancing at the closed front door, Nandor squeezes your hand, “Well um, now since you’ve mentioned the sun...I think I’d like to go to my crypt now.” He says, the flash of worry crossing over his face for only a brief moment.

“You sure? I mean a sunrise is pretty beautiful if I’m being honest and I know you never get to see them...”

“Not funny Y/N. And not fair, you know I can’t because I am full vampire.”

“And you’re missing out.”

“And I’d like to stay alive Y/N.”

“Aren’t you dead?”

“Yes and I am your only husband so I need to stay not burnt to a crisp.”

Chuckling, you follow him down the hallway, “Oh really? Don’t want me finding myself with another vampiric lover? Some new beast to sweep me off my feet and take me away into the night.” You tease.

Side eyeing you, he frowns, “No. Don’t I sweep you off your feet?”

Stepping into his crypt you stop him with your hand against his bicep, “Always.” You whisper sincerely with a quick wink, causing him to break out into a big fangy grin.

“Good. And if anyone would try and whoo you I would make sure there would be no more whooing again!” Exclaims Nandor, making the candles rise in flame for only a short second at his rise in emotion for how much he loves you.

“I don’t doubt they would fall by your blade. Not for a second.”

[kravkalackin]

“Could I perhaps ask you something? I don’t want to be rude, I’ve just been beyond curious all night,” Kravitz said, and he genuinely could not remember the last time he enjoyed himself so much. It was a little frustrating if he was being honest. 

He just wasn’t a fan of their typical galas and balls. Everyone trying to vie for his attention, having to put on a show all night, knowing that he couldn’t trust anything someone said as a genuine compliment or desire to get to know him. It was all a careful dance for power. 

His mother had suggested the masquerade idea, just to give him a night where he could have some fun and not have to worry about all those things. He really hadn’t thought it would work, that people would just be able to sense it was him or something. There was certainly a lot of talk about where the prince was all night, but Kravitz really wasn’t paying much mind to it. 

Sure, the accent was a little silly, but most people seemed to have no idea it was him under all the feathers and gems. His current companion seemed none the wiser, at least.

“Shoot, can’t promise I’ll answer though,” he said, and Kravitz could just make out a wink through the eyehole of the rather peculiar mask he wore. 

“Fair enough,” he said, smiling despite himself. “I was just wondering what exactly is your mask?” he asked, and the other man laughed. It was a louder laugh than was typically considered polite at these things, and Kravitz noticed several people look their way. He found he didn’t much care though. “I just, I can’t tell if it’s a weasel or a rat or, well whatever it is it’s certainly cute,” he added quickly. 

“Mongoose my man,” his companion said confidently. Kravitz raised an eyebrow at that, but it probably remained unseen under his own mask. 

“Certainly a unique choice. Why did you go with a mongoose?” he asked, because it was simply interesting. This man was so interesting, Kravitz couldn’t remember the last time he just talked to someone for so long, and he wasn’t anywhere near bored. 

“They have specialized acetylcholine receptors that make them impervious to venom,” he answered breezily, which wasn’t the answer Kravitz expected. “Very surprisingly dangerous, they’re known for killing snakes,” he continued. 

“What about birds?” Kravitz asked, the other man pausing for a moment as he gave him a look over, clearly taking in the black feathered mask of his before chuckling. 

“I don’t think you gotta worry your pretty little head there babe,” he said, and Kravitz was thankful for the mask in an all new way now. No one could see his embarrassment. Before he could think of some way to respond his companion was changing the subject. “So, you ever been to one of these shindigs before?” he asked. Kravitz chuckled a bit as he nodded. 

“A few, yes. And you?” he asked, and it felt a little like cheating, but he’d been trying to place the man all night. Certainly if they’d met before he would have remembered someone like him, but there were so many people at these things, and Kravitz was a bit of a recluse. 

“No, first time actually. Was kind of hoping to meet the prince,” he said, and Kravitz was trying to remember if there was anyone of note they had invited this time. He had not been paying attention to the guest list though, he never did. 

“Oh, I doubt anyone’ll see him. From what I hear he’s not much of a fan of the big parties,” he said, hoping it came off as casual. His new friend didn’t seem suspicious, shrugging without much care.

“I guess I can get that. I mean to be fair, when I came to this thing I expected to do a lot more dancing than walking around a garden,” he said, and they had been out in the garden for a while. Most of the night, if he was being honest. “Can’t say I’m complaining though,” he added. His voice sounded genuine, and taking a deep breath Kravitz steeled his nerves. 

“Would you care for a dance?” he managed to get up the courage to ask, holding out a hand. The other man seemed surprised, glancing down at his hand for a moment before nodding and taking it. The music was quieter out here, but they could still hear it just fine. 

“Sure, wouldn’t mind knocking another thing off the ol’ bucket list,” he said, moving in closer. Kravitz fell into leading with ease, and it was honestly a little funny as his companion tried to follow. He was clumsier than expected, but it didn’t take too long for them to get into a rhythm. Slower than Kravitz was used to to compensate, but yeah he certainly couldn’t complain. 

They kept talking as they danced, and Kravitz had no idea how long they kept like that for. He did know that he was gripped with the desire to pull up this endlessly intriguing man’s strange adorable mask just enough to be able to kiss him more times than he would care to admit. 

The clock charmed for midnight, and he was very disappointed when the man in his arms pulled away. 

“Shit, is it that late already? I should... probably be heading out,” he said, and Kravitz wasn’t able to hide his disappointment at that. 

“These tend to go well into two or three in the morning. Perhaps you could stay another hour?” he offered. The man looked conflicted before eventually shaking his head. 

“Nah, I’d love to, but I’ve got a shift in the morning. It’s already gonna be hell waking up after all this,” he said, and Kravitz cocked his head to the side curiously at that. 

“A shift?” he asked, and ask soon as the question left him the other man froze. He could see his eyes go wide inside the mask, an obviously caught red handed look on his face. 

“Y-yeah, that’ll just be our little secret, alright babe?” he asked, trying to sound confident but not quite managing to capture the same ease as before. Kravitz probably would have brushed it off, but from that reaction, combined with so many other little idiosyncrasies from the night that did nothing but charm him, one thing was obvious. 

Whoever this was, he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

“I really should head out,” he continued, and Kravitz wanted to keep protesting. The words got stuck in his throat when suddenly this man closed the distance between them again. He couldn’t see when his mask was pushed up just enough to expose his lips, but he didn’t hesitate to respond when the stranger gave him an all too short kiss. 

“But thanks, it was, ya know, a regular fucking fairytale of a night,” he said once he pulled away. 

“Wait-” he tried, but his companion was already dashing off between some of the large bushes and topiaries. He went after him, because he had to get his name. There was no way Kravitz would be able to find him again if he lost him now, not if he wasn’t even on any official guest list. 

Whoever he was though, he was fast. 

And apparently sneaky. None of the guards reported seeing a man in a mongoose mask leaving through the front exits.  

It didn’t make any sense. It was strange and inscrutable and utterly fascinating. 

And Kravitz was utterly in love.