Fanfics & Self Ships Galore

Joseph, or rather, Tequila, navigates the steps out of the subway station in her kitten heels, while Suzi and Caesar lag behind. “Hurry up! We can’t let the march pass us by!”

As soon as the two blondes make their way up, the three are greeted by a cacophony of music, glitter, and joy. The march, to their relief, hasn’t turned the corner yet, giving them time to get situated. They squeeze their way through the dancing and cheering crowds until finding the perfect spot just close enough to the barricades. “You know, we wouldn’t be rushing if you didn’t take up too much time in the bathroom,” Caesar sighs.

“And risk losing this perfection?” Tequila poses with one hand cocked on her hip, and the other glamorously framing her face. “I think not, Caesarino.” She adjusts the pink sparkly fabric of her ruched dress, not wanting to overheat, but not showing off too much underneath the short skirt.

Suzi pulls a fan out of her bag, opens it with a CRACK, and fanning it in their direction to help them cool off. “You both remembered your water?” They each raise their respective bottles in response, and Caesar takes a sip of his. “Alright, let’s do this!”

The songs of Chappell Roan and Diana Ross grow louder as the throuple dances, mingling with the attendees near them. At one point, a young woman with golden blonde hair bumps into Tequila by accident, a demisexual flag wrapped around her like a cape. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I was dancing too much with my friend, and I didn’t notice you there.” She has to look up at her, as her heels make her tower over the two friends.

“Hey, at least it was an accident. But be careful out there, ‘cause I think the parade is getting closer!” 

The conversation caught the attention of her friend, who turned to Caesar instead. The two locked eyes, noticing each other’s faces. Light peach fuzz on his upper lip, their sideburns shaved square. A look that says “I see you, and we’re alike,” without uttering a sound. They nod to each other and smile, then return to their respective groups.

“Suzi, can you hold my bag for a moment?” Caesar shakes off the straps of his drawstring backpack and hands it to Suzi. “I think I’m ready to take this off. It’s too damn hot, anyway.”

“Are you sure? I know you were feeling a little uncertain before we left—” Suzi rambles, but out of genuine care. Caesar was one of her lovers, and she wanted him, as well as JoJo, to feel as comfortable as they wanted.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Caesar removes his tank top and quickly folds it before stuffing it into his bag. The hot summer sun shines on his skin, which matches perfectly with the tape binding his chest. He sighs with relief, both from the discomfort of the shirt on the cloth-like tape and the freedom to show who he truly is.

Loud cheering can be heard from down the street, catching everyone’s attention as the march finally makes its way to their section. The crowd cheers along, hands raised and waving miniature flags and bubbles flowing in the breeze from mechanical blowers. Marchers give high-fives from the other side of the barricade, greeting everyone they pass.

Dancing along to the DJ perched on top, a drag queen on one of the floats notices Tequila. She waves excitedly, pointing down at the float. “YOU GOTTA JOIN US NEXT YEAR!” she shouts, just barely audible over the booming bass music.

“NOT IF YOU’RE THERE!” The other queen playfully flips Tequila off, knowing it’d be taken in jest. Tequila leans down to Caesar and Suzi. “She’s a new girl at one of my home bars. Really sweet, actually! I should introduce her to both of you the next time you come for a show.” They wave at her, smiling wide.

• • • • • • •

As the parade winds down, the crowds dissipate into different parts of the Village, whether it be bars, the subway stations, or apartments shared with friends. Joseph, Caesar, and Suzi, however, wander until they find an empty bench in Christopher Park. The three let out a heavy exhale in unison when they sit, the exhaustion from the day finally hitting their bodies. Suzi takes the bisexual-themed scrunchie out of her hair, letting it fall to her shoulders. Caesar, having collected several bead necklaces, carefully removes them without tangling them.

And Tequila? With a groan, she removes her styled brunette wig, wig tape and all, before struggling to get it into her mini backpack. She raises an eyebrow at Suzi and Caesar’s amused faces when she turns to them, but it quickly turns into a smile. “What? You’d do the same if you were me!”

“Yeah, and that’s why we don’t,” Caesar jokes. “I’m not carrying you home because you don’t want to wear your heels, by the way.”

“Ugh, then you’re paying for the Uber home.” Caesar rolls his eyes at Joseph’s childishness, but doesn’t argue. 

Rather, his attention is drawn to the design of the park. White sculptures decorate the surrounding benches, reflecting the ancestors of their community. They seem relaxed, enjoying each other’s company. Not dissimilar to Caesar’s own feelings as he sits with the ones he loves, showing that, despite all the chaos in the world, all the efforts to delegitimize them, they’ll be there no matter what.

“Everything ok, Cae?” Suzi notices his distant stare, bringing his attention back to reality.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” Caesar finishes the remaining water in his bottle before tossing the empty plastic into a nearby trash can. “Just thinking about us.”

“Well, ‘us’ is a rather nice thing to think about.” She kisses him on the cheek before giving one to Tequila as well. “I’d spend eternity with you if I could.”

“You two, Suzi. It’s about time we get going, I think.” Caesar pulls out his phone and requests a ride back to their apartment. “Speaking for the three of us, there’s no way in hell we’re going to a bar tonight.”

“Agreed,” Tequila nods. “There’s always tomorrow!”

“Yeah, always tomorrow.”

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10 years had passed since Joseph and Suzi got hitched, bringing Holly into the Joestar family as well. World War 2 was finally over, and Europe was on its way to recovery.

So when Joseph, self-admitted genius, pondered a way to show his devotion, he realized that it should go back to where it all began.

• • • • • • •

The couple was relieved upon their arrival in Venice, able to finally take the time to enjoy the experience without the threat of impending doom, and having their little girl along for the trip was a wonderful addition to the plans. Suzi shields her eyes from the sun as the three emerge from the ferryboat taking them from the airport to the streets of the city, and Joseph lifts Holly onto his shoulder. “Welcome to Italy!”

Holly waves at the crowds around her. “Hi, Italy!”

“This was where me and your mama met waaaaay before you were born! Of course, I won her over easily.”

Suzi playfully hits Joseph's shoulder. “Oh, JoJo! You know that I found you silly at first.”

Joseph gently lets his daughter down, but doesn’t lose hold of her hand. “But you love me anyway.” He quickly pecks his wife on the cheek, and Holly responds with an exaggerated gagging face. “Shush, Holly. How about we get going on our tour?”

“Yay! Gonna go all around Italy!”

“Just the city we’re in, dear. It’s called Venezia! Or just Venice.” Suzi takes Holly’s other hand, helping to guide her.

“Ve…nice.” She tries pronouncing it a few times, stumbling over her words.

“Good job, Holly!”

• • • • • • •

The Joestar family sits on the seats of the gondola, the gondolier in front speaking in a regional dialect of Italian. “I can’t understand a single thing he’s saying,” mutters Joseph. “I mean, it’s so different from how you speak.”

“I’ve been catching some of it,” Suzi replies. “Oh, be careful, piccolina!” Suzi catches Holly before she wrangles free from her grasp, as the young girl was trying to dip her hand in the canal. “Stay in the boat with us, ok?”

Suzi’s pet name in her mother tongue catches the gondolier’s attention, who attempts to start a conversation with her. She quickly becomes flustered, trying to interrupt before he continues. “Ah, parliamo dialetti diversi.”* The message thankfully gets across, and the man makes a sad face before continuing to row.

Holly points at the buildings along the canal, eyes wide. “Mama, Papa, these houses are so old!”

“That’s right! They’ve been here for hundreds and hundreds of years.” Joseph then lowers his voice, talking to Suzi. “And it’s a miracle they survived the war, too.”

Suzi hums in agreement. “We made it to New York in the nick of time.” Holly continues to marvel at the architecture, while her mother carefully holds her in her lap.

• • • • • • •

With Holly resting in the hotel room, Suzi and Joseph make their way down to a famed bar on the edge of the Grand Canal one evening. The bar is small, but thankfully they find their way in. The two sit near the entrance, sipping on cocktails.

“It’s nice to have a break. It’s our anniversary, after all!” When the bartender hands the couple their drinks, Joseph raises his glass in a toast. “To our love.”

“To our love!” They each sip their respective drinks, the fresh peach puree a refreshing flavor with the champagne. “Oh, this is good, JoJo!”

“I know! The bartender said it’s a recent addition to the cocktail menu. Someone has to bring this back to America, or we’ll be coming out here a lot more often,” Joseph laughs.

“I wouldn’t be opposed, as long as we have the money.” Suzi smiles at Joseph over her drink. “We could get lost here sometime, once Holly is old enough.” The conversation isn’t extremely titillating, but when he sees the lipstick mark on Suzi’s glass, Joseph feels a soft blush on his cheeks.

• • • • • • •

On the final evening of their trip, Joseph and Suzi take Holly to a small cemetery near where an abandoned dock to Air Supplena sits. The sun slowly sets over the horizon, setting everything in an orange glow. “Where are we going, Papa?”

“Just a moment, sweetheart. We’re almost there.” The family reaches the back of the cemetery, where a stout gravestone sits covered in accumulated dust and dirt. “Damn, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s been here in years. But at least we finally made it, huh?”

Joseph wipes the dust off the stone's engraving, revealing the epitaph.

Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli

13 Maggio 1918 - 27 Febbraio 1939

Uno splendido figlio e un fratello amorevole.**

Suzi approaches the burial plot next, gently resting a bouquet of sunflowers from a local florist on the ground. She fetches a handkerchief from her purse, blotting at tears that she began to shed. 

“Mama? Are you ok?”

Joseph brings Holly close to him, gently holding her hand. “Holly, Caesar was a man very important to your Mama and me. We loved him like we love each other, and like how we love you. He, uh,” his breath catches in his throat for a moment. “He’s been gone for a long time, and this is the first time we’ve been able to visit since he passed.”

“Oh.” Holly looked at the ground, unsure of what to say next. “Well, um, if you guys loved him so much, then I guess I love him too! Cause I love you both.”

Both Joseph and Suzi pause a moment before laughing with her, hugging their daughter close. “And I know he would have loved you too, piccolina.”

Joseph fetches a small velvet box from his pocket, taking a deep breath as he opens it. “We got this for you, Cae.” Inside, it holds a golden ring, engraved with small, triangular patterns. The inside of it reads “J.J. & S.Q. & C.Z.”

“We would have come here sooner, but the war broke out,” he continues. “Anyway, Suzi and I are doing great, and Holly too, of course.” Joseph turns his head to Holly. “Cover your ears, Holly. Papa’s gonna say some adult words, ok?” The young girl nods, covering her ears with her palms flat against them.

“It’s been so fucking hard without you. Suzi and I, we both have moments where you’d know exactly what to do. But you’re not here, God damn it. Not in a marriage with us, or at least whatever the law would allow.” Joseph’s tears flow harder, and he hiccups as he tries to remain composed in front of his daughter. Suzi comes to his side, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “But we know that you’ll always be here, in spirit or otherwise.”

Joseph takes the ring and places it around one of the thinner flower stems, tying it around the band until it's snug. He works the stem deeper into the bundle, trying to hide it until the flowers wilt. “Hopefully one of his siblings will come by and see it, if they decide to come.”

Suzi pulls Holly into the embrace, and as she looks up, a dove flies from a nearby tree to perch on the wooden fence in front of them. Somehow, the three of them know that Caesar is there with them. Even the wind echoes him, sounding like the whisper of “I miei amori.”***

“You’re our love too, Caesarino.”

Translation of the Italian in the fic:

*“We speak different dialects.”

**“A splendid son and a loving brother.”

***“My loves.”

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When I was 13,

Brown hair wild and free,

I felt a tug on my little finger,

And a little cord of red

Had wrapped its way around.

I asked my grandmother,

“Where does it lead?”

She smiled, remembering the past

“To your love,

Like your grandfather and I.”

When I was 18,

Blue eyes like the ocean,

That little cord

Pulled me again.

And I followed it

Into the city

And across the desert.

And I found a man

Whose finger matched with mine.

“Fate,”

My grandmother had called it.

Fated through blood

And through souls.

And that thread of fate

Tugged once again.

And there was a woman

With laughter like music

Who made us three.

And she matched

Just the same.

Three red strings,

Bonding into one.

Forever together,

No longer apart.

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The sun rises above the New York skyline, golden rays illuminating behind the endless sea of skyscrapers. Caesar Zeppeli, 70, softly hums to himself as he makes his way to the kitchen. Always an early riser, he fixes a pot of tea before his partners, Joseph and Suzi, wake up and get about their day.

He rolls up the sleeves of his striped robe as he fills a kettle with water, placing it onto the heated glass-ceramic burners to boil before getting out two teacups and setting them on the table. He brushes his light blonde hair, not quite greying, out of his eyes when he stretches, letting out a groan as he feels his back pop.

Returning to the expansive living room, he’s surprised to see Joseph and Suzi already reading the newspaper on the couch. “Oh! Buongiorno, my loves.” He strolls over to give them gentle kisses on the cheek. “I wasn’t expecting either of you to be up this early.”

Joseph lets out a huff of a laugh. “And I wasn’t expecting you to be so chipper this morning. I guess it’s the season for Christmas carols now, isn’t it?”

Caesar gently tousles Joseph’s hair from behind him playfully. “Oh, come on, JoJo. You know I’ll sing for you if you ask nicely.” The two are interrupted by the whistle of the kettle from the next room. “Water’s done. Won’t you two care to join me?”

The three make their way into the kitchen, with Caesar getting to the stove while Joseph and Suzi sit at the glass table. Suzi sifts through a container of tea bags, looking for one to enjoy. “Oh, dear. It seems we’re all out of black tea. I’ll add that to the list for the next grocery delivery.”

Caesar turns around and approaches with the teapot. “I’m sure we have at least something we can enjoy, or—”

The older man’s sentence is cut off as he hits the kitchen table, as the clear glass wasn’t immediately visible while he was focused on the conversation. He feels as if the world is moving in slow motion as boiling water shoots from the spout of the teapot, threatening to scald his lovers.

But in an instant, the urge to yell “WAIT!” makes the water itself still, pulling toward Caesar and back into the pot. It carefully makes its way back in, without even a drop on the floor. For a moment, he sees the flash of a royal blue hand, with a large white ruffle extending onto its pinky finger, but it’s gone as soon as he sees it.

The room is silent, and the feeling of something not quite right is palpable. Caesar is the one to break the silence. “You all saw that, correct?” He sets the kettle down, using his hand to mimic pulling the water. “The hand, the water, all of it!” He tries to calm the shock in his body and mind, making sure that he’s not hallucinating.

“The water, yes, but not the hand.” Suzi looks up at Caesar with a sense of concern. “Are you sure you’re doing ok?”

Joseph pats Suzi’s hand. “No, he’s plenty fine. But Caesar,” he turns to face him with a fierce stare. “This must be what they call a Stand!” He notices the confused stare on Caesar’s face and clears his throat before explaining. “It’s a representation of your fighting spirit. I thought that all you had was your Hamon, but it seems like yours developed at last. Think of it like a ghost of sorts that always stands next to you.” 

With a wave of his hand, Joseph summons his own Stand, represented by a tangle of purple, thorny vines around his arm. “I’ve decided to call mine Hermit Purple. It can see things through cameras, but, uh, only if I break it first.”

Suzi chuckles. “So that’s why I saw all of those Polaroid camera boxes in the closet.”

Joseph smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck once Hermit Purple fades away. “Sorry about that, Suzi.”

Caesar catches Joseph’s attention back. “So you’re saying that I have this… spirit that gives me magical powers of some sort. But it’s not possessing me, only just next to me.”

“Correct! It looks like yours has to do with water in some way or another. Let me just—” Joseph fills one of the teacups with tap water, then pours it onto the table. “See if you can move it again.”

Caesar stares at the water, but it doesn’t move an inch. This is stupid. I can’t just move water with my mind. Can I?

Before he gives up, the ruffled hand appears once more, pushing the water away from him as if repelled by a magnet. A little more of it is visible, the arm patterned in narrow white and blue stripes, and the ruffle extending all the way up. “I can’t believe I did it!”

Joseph smiles proudly, patting Caesar on the back. “Look at you! We’ll have to take some time to hone your skills, but knowing you, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

The phone rings on the wall, unusual for the time of day. “I’ll get it.” Joseph strides over while the two blondes sit at the table.

“Holly! It’s been so long since we heard from you!”

“Is something wrong?”

“Jotaro, you say?”

“In jail?!”

“Well, we’ll certainly do anything we can to help.”

“Alright. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Joseph hangs up the phone, looking intensely at Caesar and Suzi. “Well, it seems like our grandson is dealing with a spirit of his own! Holly said we need to come to Japan immediately, so I’ll get a flight coordinated and have Roses pack our bags.” He kisses Suzi on the head. “I want you to be safe, so I’ll make sure he takes care of you.”

“You’ll be safe, won’t you?” Suzi looks back up at him.

“Of course, especially with Caesar to help us.” He sticks out his hand to the other man, raising his eyebrow. “What do you say, Caesarino? Up to the task?”

Caesar takes his hand, firmly shaking it. “As always, JoJo.”

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Suzi, Joseph, and Caesar emerge from the brick entryways of the bathhouse on the edge of Coney Island’s beach, the summer sun beating down overhead. Joseph’s towel, adorned with stripes near the hem, sits around his neck, complementing his bare chest and deep-blue swimming briefs. “Come on, what are we waiting for?” Joseph jogs ahead as the two blondes try to catch up. Zig-zagging from section to section, he finally finds a spot large enough to hold the trio, but close enough to both the water and the boardwalk. Despite it being morning, the crowd at the beach was nearly packed in like sardines, with little room to rearrange.

“I’m glad we came on a weekday,” Suzi sighs as she sets up her blanket and umbrella stand. “I can’t imagine what it’s like on a holiday!”

Caesar sets his towel as close to the umbrella as he can, trying to avoid the harsh rays. “JoJo, why did you insist on coming here on your day off? The sand, porca miseria!” Caesar retrieves an issue of LIFE from his bag, trying to ignore Joseph’s glee as he flips through the pages. “It's coarse. It’s irritating. And you know it’ll all come home with us.”

“Aww, where’s your sense of fun, Caesarino?” Joseph stretches, his tan skin looking radiant. “At least get in the water if you need to cool off.” He sticks his arm out to Caesar, who rolls his eyes before begrudgingly taking it.

“Fine. But only to cool down.” Caesar follows Joseph’s lead, wading into deeper water. Caesar shivers as the chilly ocean rises to his orange swim tank, the cutouts doing little to shield him. But when the sun warms his upper torso, he finds it’s a perfect balance.

“See? I told you so!” Joseph grins at Caesar’s pleased expression, prompting the blond to give him a light shove. 

“Che palle! Could you not act like a fool for once?”

“Seriously? I closed the office for the day, and you refuse to enjoy it!”

Caesar smirks. “I’ll enjoy it when you look like this.”

In retaliation, Caesar wrangles Joseph and dunks his head under the water for a brief moment before giving him time to come up for air. Caesar’s amusement is palpable as he teases Joseph, the brunet’s hair now soaked in his face. Joseph’s demeanor turns to playful shock as he pushes a wave into Caesar, drenching him equally.

Before they can roughhouse any further, Suzi calls out to them. “JoJo! Caesar! Come over here!” 

Joseph gets one last splash in, yelling “Gotcha!” before running up ahead. He flops onto the beach towel, with Caesar on Suzi’s other side. “What’s up?”

“I was worried you were going to drown each other for a moment,” Suzi says as she messes the boys’ hair. “But that’s not the reason I called for you! I overheard some people saying the concessions are opening up!” She kisses Joseph on the cheek, using her best puppy-dog eyes. “Tesoro, could you be a dear and get us something before it’s too busy?”

Joseph stands and gives a thumbs-up pose, almost like Superman. “Of course! Be right back.” Joseph slips his sandals back on and heads toward the boardwalk, leaving Suzi and Caesar resting in the sand.

The two look at each other and speak in hushed tones in their mother tongue. “This is the happiest I’ve seen JoJo in months,” Suzi remarks.

“I think so too. It’s been, what, a year since everything happened in Switzerland. I think he’s been pouring everything into the real estate business to do something.”

“At least he’s staying active. But you’re doing surprisingly well, Caesar!”

Caesar scoffs. “It’s not the worst I’ve been through, you know.”

Suzi giggles. “Says you! I never would have thought you’d come this far since Miss Lisa Lisa took you to the island for the first time.”

“Speaking of Mae— I mean, Lisa Lisa, how is JoJo dealing with knowing his mother—”

Before Caesar can finish his sentence, Joseph returns with his arms full of hot dogs and drinks. “Order up!” He hands the food and beverages off to his lovers, one frank each topped with ketchup, mustard, and relish. “Everyone was raving about this ‘Nathan’s’ place, so I thought it’d be great to try!” Joseph takes his first bite, eyes widening as he bites into the pan-fried meat. “You both have to try this! Can’t believe I never got one when I was in New York before, though things certainly took a turn then.”

Caesar and Suzi each dig in, giving similar reactions. “Only in America,” Suzi says as she wipes the dropped ketchup from her chest with her thumb before it can stain the blue ditsy pattern of her bathing suit. Caesar carefully scoops the ice cream out of his root beer float before it completely melts, giving Suzi and Joseph small tastes of the sweet treat.

The three spend the rest of their afternoon cycling through swimming, sunbathing, and relaxing under the umbrella, enjoying each other's company despite the chaos of Coney Island around them. They feel like they were in their own little world, a sanctuary of joy and affection.

As the sun begins its descent, the crowds taper, leaving a sense of stillness as the sky turns into hues of orange, pink, and purple. Joseph arranges himself to act as Caesar and Suzi’s lean-to, the blondes resting against his body. Thankfully, the umbrella is angled just enough to shield them from any unwanted stares.

A sigh interrupts their moment of stasis. “JoJo?” Suzi questions, peering up at the younger man.

“I was just thinking,” Joseph says as he stares out into the ocean, the water now a dark reflection of the sky above. “Meeting you two, and going through everything in Europe. It feels like we’ve really exhausted everything there is out of life.”

The other two join his gaze. “But then I stare out, and realize how infinite everything is. How, despite my success in saving the world,” a jab on Joseph’s rib, responded to with a wince, “Okay, our success, there’s still more out there.”

Joseph kisses the top of Suzi’s head. “And I think having another addition would be nice. All four of us, together.”

Caesar’s voice turns into a low whisper. “JoJo, you’re not really suggesting that we, you know,” he gestures towards Suzi’s abdomen, not wanting to call any attention that may put their safety at risk.

Joseph winks. “We’ll see, Caesar. I’ve got you and Suzi, and I’m never letting go.”

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Joseph sits in a chair beside Caesar’s cot, softly clenching and unclenching his right hand. It’s been three days. I thought we saved you, but…

The lump continues to rest in his throat, trying to hold back his tears. “Caesar…” Joseph reaches his hand toward the Italian’s, scared to touch him as if he would shatter into a million shards.

Only centimeters away, Caesar’s hand shifts, gently twitching to life. He groans, shifting his head to avoid the light streaming through the windows. “JoJo?”

“C-Caesar!” Joseph begins to tear up as he embraces his lover, holding onto him tightly. “Oh, God, I thought I lost you for good.”

Caesar squirms to get out of the hold, the pressure unintentionally focused on his healing wounds. “Agh! Get off of me, stronzo!” Joseph relents, but even he notices the tears streaming down Caesar’s face. “I appreciate the sentiment, but my god, you’re strong.”

Suzi’s voice echoes from down the hall, with her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as another sign of her approach. “JoJo? Is everything alright?” When she enters the doorway, she nearly drops her tray of medical supplies in shock. “Grazie a Dio!”

The young woman rushes to Caesar’s other side, much gentler, and plants a kiss on his cheek, brushing his hair from his eyes. “JoJo, how long has he been awake for?” She turns to Caesar. “È un miracolo che tu sia qui!”

“He did just now, I swear!” Caesar speaks to Suzi in Italian, something about her “adorableness” that Joseph barely deciphers.

Caesar draws his attention to Joseph’s left arm as it rubs gently against the former’s leg. “JoJo, what happened?”

Joseph scoffs. “It’s a long story, all having to do with Kars. But hey, at least Stroheim decked me out in some new technology, hm?” He flexes the knuckles on his mechanical hand, creating a loud clicking sound. “I still need to work out the kinks, though.”

Caesar lifts Joseph’s arm with the strength he has, examining him. The portion of skin where it meets metal is covered in a ring of scarred, light skin. It didn’t extend very far, but the damage was already done. “Oh, JoJo.”

“What? I think it looks badass! And there’s not much you can say about yourself.” Suzi elbows Joseph’s side from across Caesar’s lap. “Ouch! What was that for?”

Suzi sighs. “Give him some time, tesoro. I’m sure he’s still trying to get his bearings, so let’s not comment on his appearance right now.”

“What?” Caesar’s confused expression morphs into shock. “No, Suzi. I need to know,” he catches himself mid-sentence, “I need to see what I look like.”

“Pfft, you’re fine, trust me!”

Caesar glares at Joseph, then directs his attention back to Suzi. “Just hand me the mirror, please.”

Suzi relents, passing a hand mirror resting on the side table to Caesar. “JoJo is right, though. Sei bellissimo.”

Caesar peers into the glass, scrutinizing every feature of his face. Aside from his violet birthmarks, the bridge of his nose, along with his cheek, temple, and even his upper chest, revealed by his unbuttoned pajama top, were mottled with scars.

Caesar’s heart sank into his stomach. While he wasn’t the type to be obnoxiously vain, his appearance did serve him well in his flirting, including his romantic relationships with Suzi and Joseph. Without his good looks, he wasn’t sure where he held up in their eyes. No… They wouldn’t lie to me, would they? One cheek had a gauze pad on it, and he winced in pain when he reached to touch it. Buon Dio, if only I weren’t so reckless.

Both Joseph and Suzi could see the unease on the older man’s face, and neither was sure what to say next.

But Joseph, ever the trickster, knew how to make him smile, at least break him out of his thoughts enough to get a scolding. “Your next line is, ‘This will take some getting used to!’”

“This will take some getting used to— JoJo, figlio di puttana!” Caesar tries to shove Joseph off the chair in exasperation and playfulness, and a soft grin breaks through his anxiety.

“Hey! I got you to laugh, didn’t I?” The brunet regains his balance and leans over to peck Caesar’s cheek. “I know you still love me, Caesarino.”

Joseph looks tenderly into Caesar’s bright celadon eyes, cupping his face where an exposed scar lies. “Seriously, they give you that nice ‘macho’ factor.” Joseph moves his thumb, gently kissing the skin. He makes his way down the Italian’s body, softly appreciating each inch of skin with love.

A deep blush forms on Caesar’s face, his hair beginning to stand on end. He regains control of the situation, stilling Joseph’s mechanical arm as he moves, and leaning in to kiss the skin and cold metal. “And I think you’re just as handsome as the day I met you.”

Suzi giggles and pats Caesar on the shoulder, amused by his honeyed words.

“Always the casanova, aren’t you?” Joseph remarks.

“Do you want me to do something about it, JoJo?” Caesar instinctively moves closer to Joseph to close the distance, but “Cazzo!”

Joseph backs off as Caesar reaches back to his spine, from where pain quickly starts to shoot. “Whoa, take it easy.”

Suzi shoos Joseph away, retrieving an ice pack from the medical tray and adjusting it behind Caesar with some pillows. Caesar exhales as he leans back, the ice numbing the aching wounds. “There we go, all better.” She smiles sheepishly at the other two, and gently tousles Joseph’s hair. “You two are such a handful! And besides, we’ll always have time for that and more later,” Suzi says with a wink.

Both Caesar and Joseph blush at her risqué suggestion, lewd imagery coming to mind of what they’ve been missing since they started their recovery. “Anyway, now that you’re both awake, I should probably go have a telegraph made to let Lisa Lisa and the others know you’re ok!” Suzi gives the other two gentle forehead kisses, then hugs them gently. “I’m so glad you’re both alive.”

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Joseph bursts through the door of the shared apartment, followed close behind by Caesar and Suzi Q. He shakes droplets of rain out of his brunet hair as he tracks damp footprints into the foyer, nudging his shoes off to the side while the other two more politely hang their coats and fold the umbrella. “You two couldn’t have been any slower! At this rate, we’d both be drenched by now.” 

Caesar scoffs and rolls his eyes, the continual pitter-patter of the storm against the penthouse windows muffling any remarks, in Italian or otherwise, under his breath. “You could have walked with us from the restaurant with the umbrella, but it seems like you had more important plans.” He takes a handkerchief from his suit pocket and helps Suzi dab at her makeup before it runs completely.

“Well, yeah! Holly is at a sleepover with her school friends, which means we get the apartment all to ourselves for once.” Joseph flops back onto the couch, content. “Doesn’t mean we don’t love her, but we don’t have to worry about waking her up, or she has questions on her homework, or…”

“We get it, JoJo.” Suzi sits next to Joseph on the couch, smoothing the emerald-green silk of her dress. “I was just thinking about something, actually. I heard through some other ladies at the bridge club that some swing dance events are coming up soon!” She paused, apprehensive. “But I uh, don’t think they’d approve of,” Suzi gestures to Caesar and Joseph, “us.”

“Hm? If anyone tries to bring up the war to go against you two, I won’t hesitate to—”

“They’ll call us communist queers, coglione.” Caesar lights a cigarette, inhaling deeply. “I’m lucky enough to pass as Suzi’s brother most of the time, but it’s too dangerous in a dance hall where there’s mostly couples.”

Joseph crosses his arms. “Then what do you suggest, smart guy?”

Caesar walks over to the record console on the other side of the living room and flips through the selection of vinyls. “What I do know is that Suzi picked up some new records when she took Holly to the department store to get new clothes for the school year.” Suzi joins Caesar’s side to help him look, and he returns the gesture with a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Oh!” Suzi stops and holds up a record, bringing it over to Joseph. “A new Nat King Cole record. How about we turn our home into a dance hall, hm, tesoro?”

Joseph finally smiles, taking Suzi’s hand when he gets up. “Sounds like a plan! I certainly don’t want to disappoint you, Suzie Cutie.” The pet name makes Suzi giggle, and she hands the record off to Caesar to place on the turntable.

The speakers crackle to life as Almost Like Being in Love begins to play, horns blaring as Suzi first takes Caesar’s hands. He puts his arm around her waist as they stand next to each other, stepping and kicking in time. Due to his height, her hand struggles to reach his shoulder. Instead, she rests her hand on his upper back, brushing against the tweed fabric of his suit.

Suzi giggles as Caesar spins with her around the room, her skirt twirling like a blonde bombshell from a Hollywood film. Leading, he slows back down to a shuffle in place as Joseph approaches and taps him on the shoulder.

The older man lets Suzi go, and Joseph doesn’t hesitate as he pulls her toward him, then out, then back in again. Joseph’s smile is the widest it's been in a while as he swings his arm over and around her, stretching his arm out just to curl her back in.

As the bridge leads into the excitement of the final verse, Joseph looks at Suzi with mischief shimmering in his eyes. “Ready?”

“Ready for— ah!” As fast as lightning, Joseph tosses Suzi into the air, stepping back to catch her in a bridal carry.

“JoJo!” Caesar rushes next to Joseph in case the brunet misses, but Joseph succeeds in his feat.

Still, the sudden weight of Suzi in his arms causes him to stumble backward into the record console. The music suddenly stops with a ping echoing from within the player. “Oh, shit!” Joseph gently eases Suzi to stand, and her typical chignon sits loose around her shoulders after all the spinning. 

Joseph flips around to examine the machinery in question. Very little of it was visible to the normal eye, but on the surface, nothing seemed to be obviously broken. “Well, I’m sure it can’t be that bad.” Joseph aligns the needle on the vinyl where it left off, but the turntable doesn’t move an inch when he tries to start it. “Damn! And we had just gotten this, too.”

Caesar’s tone grows pointed. “If you hadn’t acted like a sbruffone, then we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“Excuse me?! If you hadn’t gotten in my way, I would have been just fine!” Joseph’s mechanical hand begins to click as he clenches and unclenches his fist, holding onto what restraint he had before an argument came to a head.

Caesar inhales, trying to calm the situation. “We’ll have to call a repairman in the morning, but it’s your responsibility.” He stares at Joseph for a moment before he takes his cigarette out of the ashtray again, smoke emitting from the lingering embers.

“Fine,” Joseph sighs as he sits back down on the couch. An idea pops into his mind. “You know, we can always try to finish the song ourselves.” Joseph snaps along to the song's tempo as the other two sit next to him.

Caesar smiles and chimes in with the final chorus, his earlier anger fading away. “I would swear I was fallin'.”

Suzi joins in, her higher voice harmonizing with Caesar's. “Swear I was fallin'!”

The three hold each other close, their voices melding into one. “Why, it's almost like bein' in love!”

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You slowly open your eyes as the hustle and bustle of the Lower City awakens your senses. Clearly morning, but you find your lover Astarion at your side, nestled under the blankets. Seldom do your sleeping and trance schedules match up — par for the course when your lover is a vampire spawn — but the mornings that they do are extra special. You look to him and gently brush a stray curl behind his ear before getting up to pull the shared datebook off the shelf. 

Neither of you are particularly good with the “planning” aspect that comes with a datebook, but it at least helps you keep track of whatever jobs you were hired for. You flip through the pages, finally landing on 19 Ches. Spring Equinox, I nearly forgot! The leaf in the corner of the page signifies the changing season, meaning the days would only get longer from here, leaving Astarion less time for his assassin hires, or “murdering the right people,” as he puts it. You flip through the past months, checking the timeline of everything that happened since you removed your tadpoles and moved in with Astarion. We saw everyone about a week ago, so that means…

As the unfortunate realization hits you, a familiar pair of cold hands slinks around your waist, and a chin rests on your shoulder. “Good morning, my sweet.” Astarion pecks your cheek, then peers over your shoulder. “Care to show me if we have anything planned for today?” He holds you closer, lowering his voice. “Because it has been six months, love.” 

You snap the datebook shut, trying to form words that wouldn’t immediately give away that you forgot that it was your anniversary. Your warm skin only makes Astarion’s touch all the more apparent, before he pulls away with a chuckle. “Relax, Tav. I’m sure anything you do will be fine.” He rinses the sleep from his eyes at the washbasin as you hurriedly get dressed. He smiles playfully, “That’s something to worry about once we’re married, and it’s grounds enough for divorce.”

“That’s if I agree to marry you in the first place!” You playfully stick your tongue out as you sling your satchel over her shoulder, but you don’t leave without giving Astarion a kiss. “I’m going to check for any happenings at the Elfsong. I’ve got a surprise when I get home before sundown, love. Happy anniversary!” You wave as the door slams shut, and he fondly waves back with a knowing smile before settling in with a book. Shit, he’s onto you.

The Lower City of Baldur’s Gate isn’t the most pristine of locales. Still, there was definitely an effort made with the number of floral arrangements hanging from balconies, merchant carts, and governmental buildings. You weave your way in and out of the streets and stalls, scanning for anything remotely romantic. You mutter to yourself, trying to keep your thoughts on track. “Alright. Flowers. They’re romantic, but not too outlandish. Roses are a good idea, but they don’t bloom until the summer. Tulips are a safe bet, I’m pretty sure.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a stall decorated with flowers and a tapestry of lace. The woman running it looks young, her blonde hair tied into two loose braids as her pastel blue dress fits her curves. She smiles at you fondly, beckoning you over to browse her wares.

As you step closer, you notice how the stall is decorated with signs indicating, ‘Best gifts for new couples!’ and, ‘Sale today!’ An assortment of flower bouquets, brassieres, and carved crystal animals is all on display, and your eyes don’t know which one to look at. “Greetings!” the woman chirps, then motions to the sale signs. “If you buy today, I’ll throw in a free bouquet!” The cheerful tulips stand behind her, but the assortment of lingerie catches your attention. They’re primarily in lighter colors and decorated with flowers, which doesn’t strike you as something you or Astarion would particularly fancy. 

But tucked behind them, a shine of crimson and gold catches your eye. You gently take out the garment and unfold it in front of you, revealing a form-fitting bodysuit adorned with white ruffles and red ribbons, with smooth black leather and gold buttons paneling the front. A pin holds a matching bunny-eared headband with ribbons and detached puff sleeves and cuffs in place, and you can’t deny the thrill that rushes through you as you imagine yourself in it, especially with a vision of revealing it to Astarion. 

“Oh, a perfect choice!” The woman pokes her head out from behind where you held the bodysuit up. “And enchanted, too! It’ll make you shack up just like rabbits, if you’re not careful enough.”

You turn the garment over, looking for a tag. There’s none to be found, but the rest of the lingerie is marked at around 60 GP. “That sounds great and all, but… how much does this all cost? With the flowers and everything.” You think about what you have in your coin pouch, as you didn’t expect to spend all that much on a gift. But this has more uses than flowers that will end up wilting, I suppose, you wonder.

“Oh! It’s 200 GP.” You try to hide your grimace at the price, as it was certainly out of budget. You check your coin purse to be sure, and you have 175 GP, as you remember your earnings from yesterday.

“Oh, I really wish I could, but—”

The woman looks at you closely before her eyes light up. “Hey! I saw a photo of you in Baldur’s Mouth Gazette! You’re one of those folks who saved the city a while back!”

You try to hush her, not wanting to attract a crowd. “Yeah, that was me. What about it?”

“You really saved my family back there! We didn’t have time to flee the city, and we all thought we would be done for. I’ll let you take the lingerie and the flowers as a special thanks.”

“You sure?” The woman nods, a smile on her face.

“Of course!” You drop the gold into her hand, and she pushes the gifts into your arms. “Enjoy your day!” she says louder than she needs to be, and you’re on your merry way as you complete your other errands. 

When you arrive home, you hear Astarion sharpening his daggers from the floor above. He’s preoccupied, perfect! You slink into the bathroom to try on the lingerie, carefully unfolding it from the bag. You hold it up to your form and look in the mirror, blushing the whole time, but you have a realization. Did I check the size? It seems the bodysuit is made for a slimmer figure, which you didn’t fully notice in the hustle and bustle of the city. You try to stretch the material to see if it fits your front, and you were correct: it was indeed too small. Shit, what do I do now? I spent so much gold on it, and I don’t want to risk tearing it…

A thought comes to you, and you devilishly grin into the mirror. I do know who it can fit, though! You quietly cast Mending, and the gift bag ties itself back up, ribbons forming as if it never opened. You gather it and the tulips in your arms, making your way upstairs.

You softly knock on the door of your study, greeted with a “come in, dear.” Astarion turns to you and puts his dagger down, his face softening from his focused state. “Well, hello, lover.” He reaches underneath the desk, presenting you with a wooden box adorned with a crest, clearly from one of the leatherworkers in town, but you don’t remember which one. You put your presents for Astarion down to examine the box to try and guess what’s inside, shaking it gently. He huffs, “Just open it, for gods’ sake!”

You open the box, revealing a smooth, leather belt, almost as dark as the night sky. Attached to it is a matching sheath with an extended leather portion, engraved with a rising sun surrounded by constellations. Your eyes light up, and you hug the scabbard close. “Oh, Astarion, you shouldn’t have!”

“I saw how beat up your current one is on our last quest,” he remarks. “You are the sun to my stars, after all. I figured a new one could be of use.” He kisses you on the cheek again and rubs his thumb over it, and you place the scabbard back into the box for safekeeping. He eyes the presents placed on the desk mischievously, then looks at you. “Is this why you were in such a rush this morning?” he teases.

“Shut your mouth!” you retort, and Astarion laughs. “Be grateful I didn’t get you a bouquet of allium flowers by mistake.” You carefully hand him the tulips, avoiding crushing the flowers. He breathes in the aroma, allowing in the memories of his brief time in the sun that he shared with you.

“Oh, these are beautiful! Thank you, Tav. I suppose we’ll have to find a vase of some sort, then.” You were still slowly building up your home essentials and decor, and you hadn’t checked a vase off your list yet. Astarion then picks up the gift bag, gingerly unwrapping it. 

Taking each piece out one by one, a blush rushes to his face, and his ears twitch as he unravels the corseted bodysuit. He stammers for a moment, trying to put words together.

“Astarion, if it’s an issue, I can return it. I mean, the flowers came with it, so—”

“No, Tav. It’s alright.” He inhales, but the blush remains on his face. “This is a pleasant surprise. It’s not very often that I have the chance to wear,” he motions to the lingerie on his lap. “All this for you.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “You’ll have to do the favor of telling me how I look, though.”

You smile, helping him get the lingerie in his arm as he gets off the desk and saunters to the bedroom. “Always for you, my love. Just call for me if you need any help!”

“Of course.” Astarion shuts the door, and you wait in the hallway, trying to suppress any intense arousal at the thought of your lover dressed like a sultry rabbit to the best of your ability. Your hand lingers on your waist, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you try to help yourself.

Finally, a voice from behind the door. “Tav, a moment, dear!” You open the door, and you quietly gasp at the sight in front of you. Astarion has his back toward you, his thighs and ass clad in silk and lattice tights. The bodysuit and accessories shine near the candlelight, all fitting to his porcelain-pale skin. The back laces, however, remain untightened. “Could you help me?” The red satin ribbons are a contrast against the scars on his back, a reminder of his past, but also of everything you overcame.

You slowly tighten it with your hands, working from the middle out. Once you have enough to hold onto, you look at your lover. “Brace your arms against the bed. I’m going to pull on the count of three.” Astarion nods, his elbows and arms firmly lying on the bed. “One… Two… Three!” You yank tightly on the ties of the corset, cinching his waist in and forming an hourglass shape.

And Astarion, the man you love, who you went through the hells and back for, moans. Not quietly or demure, but loud like there wasn’t anyone else in the world who could hear. He slaps his hand over his mouth in surprise, blush rising to the tips of his ears. “Gods, Tav. I never expected that to happen. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no, it’s alright!” You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “No need to apologize.” You pause for a moment. “You know, the merchant did say that it has some, ahem, fertility enchantments.”

You can practically hear Astarion roll his eyes. “Oh, please. People are just trying to make quick gold. They’ll lie about whatever they can to sell overpriced items during festival seasons.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “Besides, if I didn’t shoot blanks due to the nature of being a vampire, you surely would have been carrying our child by now.”

“That is true.” You step back from Astarion, giving him some space.

Your lover takes that as his cue, turning around to show you the full display of his outfit. He poses, cocking his hips slightly. The ruffles and golden embroidery suit him naturally, and you feel your pupils widen as your gaze leads to where his pecs peek out from underneath the large red ribbon in the center. He notices, and with a smirk, he shakes his ass to make the puffy, white rabbit tail bounce. “At a loss for words, darling?”

You gulp, nodding your head. “Y-yeah. You look, uh, good. Really good.” He chuckles, and as you marvel at the rest of his body, you notice how his bulge presses against the leather panel. He’s harder than you anticipated he would be, clearly enjoying the thrill of being dressed up just for you. You feel your own wetness dampen your smallclothes, inner walls clenching as Astarion circles around you.

“How about you get more comfortable, my sweet?” You nod, more fervently than you realized, and begin to slip out of your pants and top. Astarion slows your hands, undoing each button one at a time as the smooth satin brushes against you. Your smallclothes and bra drop to the ground, leaving you exposed. “Much better, love.” He leads you to the bed, spreading your legs open as you sit on the edge. 

He kneels, kissing up your calves to your thighs and nipping along the way with his fang, but careful enough not to draw blood. You gasp and whine with each sensitive kiss as he nears closer and closer to your core. Finally, he licks a long stripe up your lower folds, causing a low moan to escape your lips. His lips move to suck on your clit, pressing your bundle of nerves in just the right way.

Your eyes had fluttered shut, putting your weight on your arms behind you. “Oh, Astarion!” After a series of whines, your eyes open once more. But the sight that greets you stops you in your tracks, and you can’t help but burst into laughter.

Astarion pulls back with confusion on his face, not knowing why everything was suddenly so hilarious. “Tav? What in the hells has gotten into you?”

You catch your breath between guffaws. “It’s— It’s—” You finally get control of yourself, inhaling. “The rabbit ears! You were on the floor, and from my perspective, it was kinda like,” you motion with your hands, making bunny ears with your fingers and dancing them above your mound.

Astarion blinks twice before breaking into laughter. He doesn’t take as long to recover as you do, but he cups your cheeks with his hands and kisses all over your face. “You cheeky little pet! I can’t believe that that’s what got you to break.” He looks at your beet-red face, chuckling one more time. “I can take them off, if that’ll help.”

“No, keep them on! They’re cute, you know.” You still Astarion’s hand before he takes the headband off. “Perhaps a change in position, instead.” You lie on your back and put your arms above your head, signaling for Astarion to get on top.

“Of course, my love.” When Astarion moves the crotch of the bodysuit so his cock can spring free, it’s already leaking, and his tip is a bright red. He bites his lip as he gives it a few strokes, lining it up against your folds. You softly moan in unison, and Astarion’s pointed nails caress your inner thighs and stomach. “Gods, you feel as wonderful as always, my love.”

As Astarion slowly eases into you, you let out a long moan as he kisses up your body, timing each peck with a shallow thrust. The sensation makes you quiver with pleasure, even more so when he latches onto your nipple and sucks. “Ah! Astarion, please,” you beg.

Astarion glances up at you, those ruby eyes full of wanton mirth. “I’m only just getting started, dear.” With that, he increases the pace of his movements, his hips meeting yours as he sucks and nips on your chest.

Your moans grow in volume, and your hand reaches for Astarion’s hair as a tether to reality. “Fuck, stop being a tease! I know you want to just as much as I do.”

“And that is?”

“Bite me, Astarion.” With a low laugh, your lover sinks his fangs into your breast, right above where your beating heart lie. The familiar icy feeling, which over time became a source of pleasure, courses through you. Your heart pounds as you feel your blood course into him, and before he attempts to drain you dry like when you first met, you pull him off by the nape of his neck. 

His mouth frees with a pop, the last rivulets of blood dripping down his chin. He laps up any remaining wet crimson from your breasts. “Delectable as always, my darling.” With his energy restored, he pistons in and out of you with more power than you anticipated. He puts your legs against his chest, gripping your thighs as he leaves little bloody kiss marks on them. “That’s right, Tav. Clench around me.”

You can’t restrain your cries any longer as your back arches in pleasure, your inner walls fluttering against his length. “Astarion! Fuck me, please!” You babble as you get lost in the pleasure, needing his cock to fill you to the brim.

“Come for me, my love.” As if his words were magic, the hard thrusts against your cervix push you over the edge. With a keen of his name, you reach your climax and clench around Astarion’s dick.

It’s enough for him, too, as he presses into you and fills you to the brim. As he softens, the two of you gaze into each other’s eyes and catch your breath. You reach up to kiss him before he pulls out, tenderly brushing his cheek with your thumb. He heads to the door, turning to you before he opens it. “I’ll be right back, darling. Let me just get some cloths so we can wash up.” A few minutes later, he returns as promised, helping to clean his spend out of you and gently washing the blood off with some soap. You do the same for him, and he chuckles as you clean the dried blood off his chin like a doting grandmother.

“I suppose I, ah, should get all of this off before we get into bed, love.” You agree, helping to loosen the corset laces as he takes each accessory off and gently places it to the side. Once the lingerie is folded and put away in the dresser, Astarion takes you into his arms under the blankets. “That was certainly a surprise. Thank you, Tav.”

You nuzzle into Astarion’s chest, holding him close. “You’re very welcome. Happy anniversary, dear.”

“Happy anniversary.” Astarion blows the candle out, and you doze off feeling loved.

 • • • • • •

You awake to the sound of inexperienced bards outside below, and you stumble out of bed. Astarion follows, disgruntled by the racket. “Gods, could they pick any other spot to perform in? If you could even call it a performance.”

“It’s Greengrass, my love.” You pick up your datebook and flip through the notes. “Huh, I just realized it’s been a while since my last moonblood. You don’t think I should see a cleric, do you?”

Before Astarion covers his ears with the pillows, he pauses for a moment. His eyes go wide. “Oh shit.”

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The tentacled imprisonment of the Battleship Condescension holds you firmly in place, preventing you from fleeing or otherwise squirming away from the Empress. “ya betta take this like a good slave” she taunts. You feel her tentabulge squirm against your ass, writhing around to find your entrance. “or there’s gonna be an even worse ending”

Without any other warning, she slams her tentabulge into your unwilling hole, making you scream out with pain. It searches through your inside, finding your most pleasurable spot to cause your arousal and shame. “P-please, no! I promise I’ll do anything else!”

“too late for that, beach” She thrusts harder, hitting that bundle of nerves that makes you moan in lust. 

You feel the heat rise through your body as she pounds you, humiliation overwhelming. God, why am I into this? Any coherent thoughts of denial are pushed out as you lose your sense of self, subservient to The Condesce’s power and prowess. Her tentabulge thrusts into you over and over, causing you to cry out louder each time. Before you can even register it, you’re approaching your climax. The Condesce snaps her fingers, and an Imperial Drone approaches and places a bucket underneath your hole, surely to catch any leftover genetic material when she reaches her own orgasm.

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“Oh, why yes. All those posters must get delivered on time. Who wouldn’t want more of me after a tour stop?” Mettaton paces around his office, arms extending to flip through his planner book. 

As the merchandise representative drones on about deadlines and estimates, your android boyfriend looks over to your flushed form. Arms bound to the handcuffs hanging off the door, and a dildo relentlessly thrusting in and out of you, made you look like a porn star in your state. You swallow back your moans, but small gasps and whines break through your wanton lips. “Metta… Please…” you quietly gasp. Your breath hitches in your lungs, unsure of how much more you can take.

Mettaton mutes his end of the phone, his branded charms jingling as he places it on speaker phone on his desk. The other man’s voice comes out crackly, unaware of the debauchery on the other end. Striding toward you, the robot retrieves a gag from a hidden drawer, locking the sparkly pink pleather around your head and stuffing the black ball in your mouth to shut you up. “Much better, darling.” He mock-dusts off his hands before making the machine fuck you faster and picking the phone back up.

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Karlach does a full circle around the suspended and immobile drow, nonchalantly enjoying her ropework. Kaede’s arms and legs were carefully bent and tied behind her, giving the tiefling a perfect view of her dripping cunt and tits. “Man, you look real fuckin’ nice like this.” Karlach kneels to give Kaede’s breasts two even slaps, causing her to moan. “But don’t worry. I’ll take my time making sure you feel as good as you can, babe.”

Karlach pulls Kaede’s white ponytail, angling her face up to her line of sight. “You promise?” she teasingly asks, a glimmer in her eye.

The tiefling chuckles, then pulls her hair again to nuzzle her face against her bulge. “Yeah, I promise, alright.” Kaede kisses Karlach’s length through her trousers, feeling the heat radiating off of her. Karlach bites her lip, trying to hold back a moan as she undoes the ties holding it together. She exhales as her cock frees, her breath coming out as a low moan. Karlach pushes it against Kaede’s lips, the drow takes her full length into her mouth, preparing for the event ahead of time. “Yeah, that’s it,” she hisses as she begins to thrust into her face.

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Astarion pistoned in and out of Tavilina’s cunt, growling as he kissed where her pulse lay on her neck. “We’re both close, love. Come for me, clench around my cock.”

Astarion’s lustful command pushed the half-elf over the edge, her release washing over her like the waves of the sea. “Astariooooon!” She cried out his name as her back arched, but he didn’t relent. His orgasm was still further away than hers, and his pleasure made Tavilina’s even stronger. “Oh, gods, ‘Star! If you don’t stop, I’m gonna—!” His relentless thrusting pushed Tavilina over the edge once more, squirt pouring out from her glands and onto Astarion and herself. The tightness finally gave Astarion his release, pouring his seed into his new wife.

The vampire stopped, gently pulling his softening cock out of Tavilina. She’d never had an orgasm this intense in all the time they’ve been together. “Are you alright, darling?” He gently tilted her head up and kissed her forehead, caressing her cheek.

“Yeah, I’m good.” She shifts, noticing the large wet spot in the sheets, which causes her to blush. “Guess this is one way to break in the new bed!” she laughs. Astarion laughs with her, resting his hand on her abdomen in affection.

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From your position in the dirt near the campfire on your hands and knees, it’s hard to tell which of your companions is touching you, not that you disliked it. Being passed around like rolled hemp leaf was your idea, and the others enthusiastically agreed. After all, their fearless leader deserved a reward.

Your thoughts are broken by a harsh tug on your hair, pulling your eyes up to Shadowheart’s cunt. “I think it’s time to give you a proper taste.” You obey the half-elf, moaning into her mound as Wyll fucks you from behind. The scent and taste of her fills your senses, a mixture of florals and dark berries. As you suckle on her clit, you feel a hand reach for your cocklet. Your moans turn louder and more carnal as you realize Astarion — his claw-like nails are unmistakable — rubs and pulls your clit with fervor.

With each moment, each cock and cunt and touch, you unravel further and further, your core bursting with pleasure. “He’s close, I can tell,” Wyll gasps out, thrusting into you at a breakneck pace as he chases his climax.

Once Shadowheart steps away, Karlach sticks her fingers into your mouth, wetting them for surely another wanted intrusion. “Be a good boy and cum for us.”

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“Observe closely, wizard. If the lack of screams of pleasure from your former tent is anything to go by, you have little knowledge of how to please a woman properly.” Minthara smirks at Gale from the loveseat across from you, then gets to her knees in front of you. You can’t help but notice the deep flush that covers his face, betraying his uncomfortable expression.

The drow begins by spreading your thighs apart, kissing the sensitive inner skin. She nips here and there with her teeth, causing squeaks of pleasure to escape your lips. “Oh, that feels so-” your words of praise are cut short by Minthara making her way to your clit, sucking it diligently and licking a stripe up your cunt. You moan loudly and wantonly, as she had the technique that only women of Menzoberranzan nobility knew.

Tangling your hands in Minthara’s hair, you throw your head back, but not before getting a glance at Gale. He began touching himself already, ordered that he was only to do so, and that you were off-limits to him, or at least for the time being. You couldn’t help but find it exhilarating to have him at the whims of your and Minthara’s control.

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