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#and it sneaks up on you every now and then
pseudowho · 2 days
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"So, you go against the hairs...that's right...and then with the hairs..."
"...is-- is this right?"
"Mmm. Now, clean your blade..."
You pretended to tidy the bedroom, sneaking glances up to Kento, and Yuuji, stood shirtless at the bathroom sink. Both had thickly lathered faces, and sharp razors, examining their faces in the mirror with absolute precision.
Sshhhhick. Swshswshswsh. Shhhhick-ck-ck. Swshswshswsh.
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Peach fuzz.
"...and so anyway, I said to Fushiguro, shadows are great but sometimes you gotta just hit a guy..."
Kento listened, quiet, his mind always calculating several threads while mentoring Yuuji; yet, he was distracted. The old school corridor bathed in orange evening light, setting Yuuji's hair aflame, to coral in rocks. With Yuuji's nattering profile illuminated, the edges of his cheeks blurred from their usual sharp relief.
Fuzzy.
"...like, Kugisaki gets it, but she's like, just a bit feral and..."
Kento wondered if Yuuji had noticed. Kento recalled he only noticed, when his grandfather brushed his jaw with one clawed-over old hand, softly mocking Kento's furry scowl in lilting Danish. Kento's eyes lowered to the floor, counting his own steps and thinking in one, two, three and thoughtful on four, five, six.
"...Gojo's great but it's hard to learn from a guy who's that far out of my league, y'know? So--"
"Itadori-kun."
Kento had stopped, straightening his glasses, looking out onto suburban skyline. Yuuji stopped with him, inquisitive. A train rattled through, distant, splitting through the sunset. Kento looked back to Yuuji.
"It's important to look tidy, at work. Professional."
Yuuji raised his eyebrows, elbows rounded as he held his arms out, looking down at himself. He shot Kento a bashful smile, rubbing the back of his head.
Fuzzy peach.
"...ah-- yeah...guess I've always been a bit scruffy, huh? My grandad used to tell me I'd never get a job with hair like this."
Kento hummed. He stepped forwards, and raised one long-fingered, broad hand to gently grasp Yuuji's jaw, tilting it back and forth in the amber glow. Yuuji's bottom lip drew up, his eyes wide in surprise.
"...Nanamin?"
"Has anyone taught you how to shave, Yuuji?"
Yuuji blushed, his eyes flicking away from Kento in a mortified little scowl, his jaw still clasped. Kento released him, clearing his throat and checking his watch.
"I think we're finished up, here. Do you have any evening plans, Itadori-kun?"
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"If you need to go over an area again, get more shaving foam-- not that much-- and repeat the steps..."
"...this is...tricky..."
"With regular practice, you can improve any skill, Itadori-kun. Unless you'd like a beard, which still needs management, you'll be shaving every few days, or more."
"...you always...look so tidy..." swshswshswsh.
"It takes effort." Shhhick. Swsh.
"Yeah right. I bet you wake up like that. Tie and all."
A deep, rumbling laugh. Yuuji's foamy, surprised face, looking so boyish.
You slid past the bathroom. You pulled your phone out, surreptitiously clicking a photo. Kento and Yuuji, leaning over the sink while Kento steadfastly instructed him, became your new phone background, and stayed as such for a full year.
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"Took a lot of portions to send him to bed with a full tummy."
Kento chuckled at you, his hair mussed and soft. Legs crossed in bed, with a book on his lap, he read to the sound of soft snores in the guest bedroom next door. The lamplight, low and warm, illuminated Kento's face in the gloom.
Stubbly.
You reached a hand out, brushing across his jaw, feeling its sandpaper rasp across your fingers.
"I think you were so busy teaching Yuuji," you whispered, scratching Kento's chin as he crumpled his lower lip up, "that you missed some patches yourself. C'mere."
You stood, walking to the bathroom and sitting on the counter, grabbing a razor and shaving foam. Kento's eyes twinkled at you, feigning annoyance. He walked to you at the sink, looking straight into the bones of you. He grasped your thighs, pushing them apart before settling between them, chuckling again as you lathered his face.
Shhhhick. Swshswshswsh. Shhhick-ck-ck. Swshswshswsh.
You felt a growing pressure between your legs as you focused on shaving Kento's jaw. Kento fidgeted, pyjamas tight and tenting. You bit your lip, smirking.
"...Mr.Nanami. I am trying to concentrate."
"Mmm, so am I, but it's...hard."
"Yes. I can feel that."
Another deep rumble of a laugh. Kento grasped your thighs tighter, pressing forwards into you. You gasped, taking the razor from his face as Kento nuzzled shaving foam into your giggling neck.
"Don't stop." He whispered, a crooked smile on his lathered face. "Concentrate, please, Mrs.Nanami."
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finelinevogue · 3 days
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hot stuff
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summary - it’s summer in italy and you’re very in love with harry
pairing - fiance!harry x reader
word count - +1k
[ inspired by today’s pics of harry in rome ]
🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊
Life was pretty good.
Life was currently simply enjoying summer in Italy with your fiancée.
Life was sitting around a pool, drinking margaritas and tanning until the sun could give no more.
At this moment in time, life was watching your fiancée get out of the pool whilst you keenly watched.
Harry wiped his nose as he got out, pulling his swim shorts to the right level so he didn’t show everyone what was beneath the happy trail.
It was a Saturday and you were hosting a pool party.
Since you and Harry had bought a summer house out in Italy you’d met lots of new people, a lot of which were Italian residents.
Every so often you liked to invite people over to have fun and just enjoy life the simpler way for once.
So here you were, enjoying the simple life.
You watched Harry approach, water dripping off his skin and onto the paved floor beneath him.
The sun was hot, but you had to admit he was even hotter.
He’d recently decided he wanted to try grow a mullet and it was slowly getting there. The scruff on the back of his neck was growing and it made you weaker every time you saw him.
His mullet mixed with his tanned, tattooed, skin made him - being biased - the hottest person in Italy.
“Hey hot stuff.” You chuckled, as you said, as he got closer.
“Objectifying me now, are we?” He feigned hurt, walking to stand over you and your sun-bed, “I’m more than just my incredibly good looks you know?”
“A little modesty wouldn’t hurt you.” You mumbled.
Harry perched one hand on the back of your sun-bed and leaned down to your head height.
“What did you say? Hm?” He challenged you with a smirk.
“Oh, go away.” You playfully swatted his thigh.
“Gimme a kiss first.”
You couldn’t deny him, or you, the pleasure, so you leaned up a little to meet him and sealed your lips to his.
You quickly followed his lips, leaning up more so he could kiss you harder. Harry cupped the back of your neck for support, whilst you desperately wanted to tug on the hair at the back of his neck but couldn’t quite reach from this angle.
You let out a soft moan as he bit your lip ever so slightly, before he pulled back before you two ended up getting too carried away.
It was funny how you still got shy and giggly after you’d have a proper kiss. Harry brought out a side of you that felt like you could be in the honeymoon phase of your relationship forever.
“You wanna go upstairs?” You asked, watching him stand tall looking down at you.
“Baby, you know I’d love nothing more, but unfortunately we are the hosts.”
Oh yes.
The pool party that you were hosting, well kind-of hosting because honestly some of your friends were doing a better job of refilling drinks and having conversations than you or Harry were.
“I’m so horny right now, it’s not even funny.” You huffed.
Harry let out a laugh, before wiggling his way to sit down beside you on the same sun-bed. His body felt warm against yours and it did nothing to submerge the want you had for him right now.
“I know.”
“What?”
“I mean, you made me get you off half an hour ago in the downstairs toilets because you said, and I quote, were ‘going to die’ if I didn’t.”
“That was a real problem.”
“And I really fixed it.” Harry said smugly.
“Go away if you’re not going to help.” You tried to push him off your sun-bed but he made no move.
Instead, Harry completely ignored you and leaned back. His body sat sideways across yours, his head tucked just under your chin.
He was such a weight on your body, but a comforting weight.
“Harry, dude…” You pretended to be annoyed, but in reality you craved nothing more than the proximity to him. “You’re making me all wet.”
“See… I’m helping.”
You chuckled at that, kissing his forehead.
Your hand got to sneak up to the back of his neck and scrunch the scruff of hair he had there. You liked twirling your fingers around certain curls and then pulling them straight. Harry liked it too.
You were both quiet for a while, watching friends and neighbours pass you by.
People left you and Harry to be with each other, only stopping for a quick hello or to tell you how beautiful your house was.
The weather was warm, but the cross breeze was nice and cool. It made for the perfect temperature and was very close to lulling you to sleep with Harry safe in your arms.
“2 days.” Harry mumbled.
“Hm?” You said.
Harry tilted his head slightly to look at you, whilst you leant down with your five double chins at him.
“2 days and then you’ll have my last name.”
You warmly smiled at that, using your hand not occupied with scrunching his neck hair to cup his cheek and softly brush the skin there.
You leant down the best you could and kissed him as if that did more than words could do.
And it did.
“3 days and we’ll be going on our honeymoon.” You said this time.
“Manchester doesn’t know what’s coming.” Harry joked.
“Can’t believe we’re having our honeymoon in Manchester.”
You and Harry both chuckled at that.
“Yeah, but it’s home.” Harry smiled, pulling at your hand to move away from his cheek so he could hold it. He messed around with your engagement ring sat pretty there, mesmerised by the fact he even found someone to give the ring to.
“I’m actually excited to see some greenery. Maybe some cows and grey clouds.”
“Yeah.” Harry belly laughed.
“Remember that cow from that holiday to Cornwall with your parents?”
“My dad thought he was a cow whisperer or something.” You laughed at the memory, making Harry’s body shake at the motion.
“It’ll be nice to just go on walks in peace and not have phone service.” Harry turned his head to face you again, your hand still stroking his neck, “Nice to just be with you.”
You smiled with a blush, because how could you not when he spoke to you like that.
“I love you.” You kissed him.
“I love you.” He kissed you.
He sat up then, seeing where he’d left damp stains over you and your towel. His hand kept him propped up over your body.
Harry looked out to your guests, taking each one in quickly and smiling at those who smiled his way, before turning back to you.
“Wanna go upstairs?”
You perked up at that, “Really?”
“Yeah,” He leaned over to kiss you and your enthusiasm, “Only got 2 more days to have sex with my fiancée, gotta make the most of it.”
“I’m not even going to question your logic right now because I’m getting what I want.” You jumped up off your sun-bed. “Let’s go hot stuff.”
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sinsirellaxx · 2 days
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toxic boys react to hooking up with popular!reader who everyone has a massive crush on and they find out shes a virgin? and can it also include the morning after?xoxo
Slytherin Boys – Being your first
Warning: Toxic boys (is this considered toxic?), not proofread
Have fun!
Mattheo …
… who’d feel like he had won the lottery.
… who’d be on cloud nine for finally having you on his bed between his messy sheets.
… whose eyes would light up when he found out you were a virgin.
… who would be so much gentler with you after finding out – wanting everything to be more memorable for you.
… who is confused when you’re still in his bed in the morning – albeit kind of happy.
… who’ll sneak out of the bed and send his dormmates a thumbs-up when they look at him with raised brows, as he waltzes into the bathroom.
You are one of his trophies now.
Theodore …
… who’ll have a huge smirk on his face when you agree to go to his room. He’ll wrap his arm around you and lead you to his room with his chin raised.
… who’ll push you against his closed door before moving things to his bed.
… who’d be very intense – almost overwhelmingly so – until you told him that you were a virgin.
… who’d slow down after that – he had initially planned to rush through foreplay but now he knew he couldn’t.
… who’d watch you sleep – almost freaking out when he felt his stomach flutter traitorously.
… who’d stand up and sleep on one of the couches in the (now empty) common room instead – he couldn’t catch feelings. He wouldn’t.
Lorenzo …
… who would scream internally (in glee) when you returned his kiss.
… who’d force himself to break the kiss when it got too intense just to throw you over his shoulder, needing to get you somewhere private.
… who fully intended to fuck you by the end of the night.
… who’d be nervous when you were alone in his room – scared of you rejecting his advances.
… whose eyes darkened when you laid down on his bed, pulling him down with you until he was perched on top of you.
… whose restraint would completely melt away when he found out that he would be your first.
… who would be attached to you after that. He would spoon you from behind as you fell asleep afterwards. Waking up next you in the morning felt extremely rewarding and the sensation he felt when you sleepily smiled at him with your eyes still closed left him addicted to you.
Draco …
… who’s all nerves, screaming inside, as he walks up to you.
… whose shoulders immediately relax, his lips tugging up into a wide smirk when you hold his hand with a shy smile.
… who’ll be silent as he walks into the room his nerves returning when he was finally alone with you.
… who relaxes the moment you tell him that you had never done this before – the pressure lifted off his shoulders.
… who forgets himself as soon as he is nestled in you.
… who’ll immediately fall asleep after finishing.
… who’ll brag about it to his friends.
Blaise …
… who’ll use the opportunity to show you what he is capable off, pampering you with all the love and attention every teenager dreams of.
… who’ll be extra attentive and careful when he finds out you’re still a virgin. He’ll groan when you tell him – the thought of being the first shooting straight into his groin.
… aftercare king – he’ll kiss you softly afterwards and helps you clean before getting you into fresh clothes.
… who’ll cuddle you all night until both of you fall asleep.
… who is the only one to wake up after you.
… who’ll smile softly at you, blinking his eyes open when he feels your wandering fingers.
Tom …
… who already knew he’d be the first.
… who’d smirk at you knowingly when you stared at him with wide insecure eyes as he undressed in front of you. It was painfully obvious that you had never laid your eyes on another male. Good.
… who’d take his time in undressing you, teasing you before finally really touching you.
… who wouldn’t be as gentle – he was sure you would like it anyway.
… who’d draw out several orgasms before being satisfied.
… who’d be gone in the morning – leaving you high and dry.
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swordsandholly · 14 hours
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy
Part 4: “Girl Problems”
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You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.
With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.
“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.
As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.
Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?
The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.
“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.
You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.
Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.
John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you���re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?
With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.
>> ok so this is terrible
>> im so sorry
>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom
>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional
Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.
J >> How can I help?
>> i dont have any products on me
>> meant to stock the bathroom
>> sorry
J >> Stop apologizing
J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street
You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.
It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”
You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“
“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”
You snort. “Yeah…”
“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”
“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.
You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.
You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“
“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.
You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”
“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”
John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”
When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.
You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.
If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.
A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.
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Text
Neon Moon
Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst
Rhysand’s sister grapples with a one-sided mating bond that has yet to snap for the Shadowsinger. When a drunken night brings the two closer together than ever, Azriel is made aware of a circumstance that could change the course of her life.
This is a one-shot that is able to be read as a stand-alone fic.
This is also a prequel to Wicked Felina and elements of this prequel will be involved in the remainder of the series.
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Warnings: Sexual content, alcohol, language, age difference concerns
Y/N - 19 Years Old
When the sun goes down on my side of town, that lonsesome feeling comes to my door.
Pretty moans echo through the walls of the House of Wind only broken by an ocasional deep groan.
I roll over with an aggravated sigh, pulling an overstuffed pillow across the back of my head, covering my ears. Not that it will do any good. Curse being High Fae and the exceptional hearing that comes with it.
I lay awake, taking deep breaths, trying to sink into the starry depths of my mind but Azriel’s hook-up of the week lets out a particularly loud cry of pleasure before her moans are muffled by what I assume is a gloved hand and a low reprimand.
I roll my eyes. He may as well chide her with a warning of “Shh, don’t wake the baby.” by the way he treats me.
Never mind the fact that I am an adult now. I have tits for cauldron’s sake, nice ones at that. I wouldn’t be wearing this oversized, ridiculously soft knit sweater if I didn’t.
And yet he still views me as a child.
It’s cruel to think that on my eighteenth name day, a golden thread snapped. Tethering my soul to him… and yet, he has no clue. That, or he does, and has no intention of acting on it, refusing to view me as anything other than the little sister of his best friend.
I’ve got a table for two, way in the back where I sit alone and I think of losing you.
So I grin and bear it. And if I happen to wear clothing a bit too cheeky when he is around and other males inevitably gawk at my exposed skin, thus prompting the overprotective bat to shuck his sweater off and toss it to me, and then I spend the rest of the night drinking him under the table? Well, that will have to do for now. So, I wait for the day his soul is ready to seek mine.
Y/N - 21 years old
He’s watching her again. He always does. She dances through the room like petals on a breeze, enamoring the crowd with vivacious conversation as she skirts throughout those gathered in the room. How will I ever compare to the radiant and lovely enigma that is THE Morrigan? I shouldn’t feel bitterness toward my cousin and yet I do. I get why people flock to her, she’s kind and lovely, strong, somehow both approachable and unobtainable. She’s a total pain in my ass busybody cousin-acting-as-older-sister I never wanted.
I requested that the band play Azriel’s favorite song tonight. The one time he’ll loosen up and let himself enjoy a moment. It has become a routine, our dance. The one time that he holds me a little closer. The one time I can pretend he sees me as the mature female that I am and not the child I was.
But tonight, the song plays, and it’s Morrigan in his arms, not me. It’s not the first time he’s chosen her over me. When she’s here, I don’t exist.
I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t watch this.
I spend most every night beneath the light of a Neon Moon.
I turn to leave, exiting the hall, winding through the crowd of pompous nobility from all courts. The garden. I’ll find solace in the garden, beneath the glittering stars, among the fragrant blooms. Sneaking down a quiet corridor and out a shadowed alcove, a guard opens the door for me and the warm, lavender scented breeze greets me like a friend. My steps fall swiftly, distancing myself from the evening revelry. As I wind down a path of blooming roses, a loose stone causes my sole to slip, bracing myself for the fall and the sting of rock to my palms. Instead, I am shocked to feel warm, strong arms catching me. Looking up at my savior, a few long golden locks of hair fall over the concerned, emerald green eyes staring down at me.
Y/N - four months later
“Shit, Shadowsinger. You look like you could use this more than me.”
The start of a grin tilts the left corner of his lips upward as an incredulous laugh slips from his throat. Reaching a scarred hand toward the bottle of my brother’s finer wine and swiping it from me.
Azriel’s hazel eyes assess the bottle, giving a raise of his brow. “Looks like you’ve done a number on this one already.”
“I never do things halfway.” I tease. Giving a nod toward the wine that was indeed half-empty. His dark brows rise again as I unveil a second bottle before he could remark on it. “Some Spymaster you are. You should’ve know I’d come prepared with the best selections from Rhys’ secret-” The playful jest is interrupted by the tickle of a shadow trailing up my arm and spiriting the second bottle right out of my hand, eliciting a pout of my lower lip.
“Hey, now that’s just greedy.”
The handsome planes of Azriel’s face illuminate in the twilight, causing my heart to stir. Perhaps it’s the way the night shrouds him in ominous twilight, or the way his shadows sit strewn across his shoulders but I know tonight was hard for him.
Mor had shown up to dinner as radiant as ever, a red dress clinging to her delicious curves, some male she’d picked up at Rita’s on her arm.
Now if you lose your one and only, there's always room here for the lonely
I should leave him alone but I can feel it in my chest. Stoic and broody? Yes. A lonely soul? Also yes.
And damn, do I know I deserve better than to be the female that will never be chosen first? Yes. And yet, he’s my mate and more importantly, my friend.
“Scooch over,” my arm waives in a correlating gesture. “This grass is dewy and cold and this dress is far too thin. Your leathers can handle the chill, I’m stealing your warmth.”
With a small shake of the head, a lock of raven hair falls over his forehead, Azriel scoots, exposing the vacated patch of grass for me to sit on. “Gods, it’s still chilly.” I complain as I swipe one of the bottles back from the Shadowsinger.
“Nobody asked you to come out here.”
“And yet here I am.”
Azriel eyes meet mine, a small flicker of emotion passing behind them. “Yes.” He whispers fondly. “Here you are.”
I ignore the blush threatening to redden my cheeks and fire back at him. “Your breath smells like a vineyard. You’d already gotten started on the drinking without me?”
Recognizing the rhetorical question for what it is, Azriel presses his lips to the bottle, tilting his head back as he takes a long swig of the bittersweet wine. My breath catches as a harsh swallow bobs his adam’s apple. Heat pools through me and I quickly turn away, searching for something, anything to distract from the effect he has on me.
To watch your broken dreams, dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon
Shadows dance around us, like figures on the wind, weaving in and out of the moon’s luminescent rays.
“Y/N…” I turn to face him as a scarred hand reaches for me before seemingly thinking better of it and pulling back. “I didn’t dance with you at the ball.”
It’s my turn to laugh incredulously. “That was months ago Azriel, why bring it up now?”
That peculiar flicker of emotion crosses his eyes again.
“I’m sorry.”
I pause, taken back by the apology. Had he known how much it hurt to see him dancing with her? Thinking on it, I can’t seem to grasp whether it is better or worse that way.
I freeze, grappling with emotion as he ruffles his hair with a scarred hand, dragging his palm over his face. “Y/N. The conflict that wars within me, it’s… .”
Confusion conveys on my features and I resist the urge to dive into his mind and read exactly what he’s thinking. “What?” I ask as his sentence trails into a void of lost words.
He shakes his head as if he’s already pushed whatever he was about to confess aside. Hurt washes through me and I begin to turn away. A broad, calloused palm grasps my wrist. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.” He leans closer, his wine addled breath mingling with my own, only centimeters separate his lips from mine.
I think of two young lovers running wild and free. I close my eyes and sometimes see you in the shadows.
I’m certain he can hear my heartbeat as it roars through my ears. My eyes flutter looking into his heavy-lidded hazel and onyx eyes. His head tilts, low voice barely more than a rumble.
“You’re everything.”
Azriel inhales, his gaze searching mine in a silent ask of permission, preparing to close the hairs-breadth of distance between our lips. Suddenly those lust-addled eyes go wide, nostrils flaring, and he abruptly pulls away, swiping my bottle of wine as he withdraws his hand. “You don’t need any more of this, Y/N. Go to bed.”
My mouth gapes slightly, processing what just happened. “What?”
“It’s late and I have to leave for a mission for your father in the morning.”
He stands straight, stretching out his tall body and those glorious, broad wings, stiff from sitting on the ground.
My heart is crushed, once again. The words that could change it all sitting on the tip of my tongue.
You’re my mate. You’re my mate. You’re my mate.
But his feelings for my cousin still run strong and we have centuries ahead of us. I refuse to be in second place.
Azriel extends a tanned arm to me, eyes now softened, a slight crease between his brows as he takes me in. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s get inside.”
Taking his extended arm, we walk in silence through the grand entryway of the House of Wind, winding down the corridors within, stopping at my room, I murmur a rushed “goodnight.” before escaping behind the shield of my door, to the quiet lonesome solace of my room.
I sense Azriel’s presence outside my latched door for several moments before his steps pad down the hall opening the door one down from mine, into his room.
No telling how many tears I've sat here and cried, or how many lies that I've lied telling my poor heart he’ll come back someday.
Azriel
Azriel couldn’t take it. The way the walls closed in around him. Sleep was always just out of reach but tonight, he felt the weight on his chest in a crushing embrace.
If you lose your one and only, there's always room here for the lonely.
He’d spent the past few years dicking around, ignoring the shift he’d felt toward Y/N. For fuck’s sake, she was Rhysand’s little sister, barely an adult. She’d always gravitated toward him in her childhood. Looked up to him. And he cared so deeply for her, like a little sister. And then soon after her eighteenth birthday something began to shift in his chest. Something that he felt so incredibly wrong for feeling - and yet something he’d buried deep within begged him to accept that it was right.
He was a bastard for it and latched onto his feelings for Mor even harder, despite the fact that they’d simmered down in previous years. And then Y/N had changed her demeanor toward him and he knew- gods, he knew she wanted him but he couldn’t do it. Rhys would kill him for it if her father didn’t first. It was so wrong.
And it had gotten harder and harder recently. He’d brought females home, spent more time around Mor when she’d visit, anything to push her away without actually owning up to what his feelings were.
And then Mor had shown up on a whim tonight with some male that she’d picked up gods knows where, he couldn’t even fall back on clinging to her, leaving him forced to face how strongly he felt toward Y/N, so he’d indulged in booze and snuck out to sit beneath the moonlight and drown in his own pool of self-pity.
To watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon.
When she’d found him, any semblance of willpower was gone. Y/N was a goddess beneath the moonlight. Kind, strong, intelligent, and so damned beautiful and, out here, it was just the two of them. So, he’d finally given in. One kiss, one kiss would help him see how wrong this was. And yet as he leaned in, all he could feel was how right it seemed to be.
Until he’d inhaled, taking that final breath of courage to close the distance. That’s when he smelled it, the shift in her sent. Her scent was there but there was something somewhat familiar and earthen intertwined a scent so light and sweet, almost like roses. A scent that was not her own, not of her.
She was pregnant. He had no idea by whom but the realization sobered him up entirely. He swiped her wine and panicked. Did she know? Should he say something? Instead, like the older brother figure he’d once viewed himself as to her, he escorted her into the house and told her to go to bed, ensuring to keep the alcohol out of her reach.
Gods, he didn’t know what to do from here
He spent the rest of the night flying, taking in the stars and the moon as they shone brightly above, ethereal just like her.
He’d go on his mission this week, and Y/N and her mother would travel to the war camp that her father was at to visit him, and when she came back he’d talk it all out with her.
Yes, he’d support her and love her however she needed to be, whether it be as a friend, as chosen family, or as something more. It would all work out. It had to.
Come watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon.
————————————
Although this is a one-shot, it is also the prequel to Wicked Felina, you can read Part 1 here.
Tags
ACOTAR general: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139
Wicked Felina tags: @glittervame @julesofvolterra @saltedcoffeescotch @candyjaypoppins @st4r-girl-official @nocasdatsgay @gxdsmonsters @honk4emoboyz
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babygorewhore · 1 day
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New perspective
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Two best friends alone in a room…nothing will happen, right?
Warnings! Perv!Spencer! Masturbation! Panty stealing! Oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex! Degrading! Praise! Barely proofread
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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“So. You waiting for a certain cute brown haired boy to return?” Garcia quipped as you tapped your pen against the desk. You rolled your eyes at her while the blonde gave you a smirk with her pink painted smile.
“For the last time, he’s my best friend. That’s all. And yes I’m waiting for him to get back. He’s been gone for almost a week and we’ve had to reschedule movie night three times.” You grumbled as you crossed your legs.
“Three times? Reid never misses those. Everything okay?” Garcia asks with a sympathetic look and you sigh.
“Yeah. He was on a date the first time. The second time he fell asleep and the third was a date again.” You tried to keep your voice as casual as possible but your friend senses the hidden pang of jealously threatening to come out.
“Well-“ She began and then her expression turned when she saw something above you. You shifted in your seat and saw the agents exiting the elevator.
Hotch gave you a curt nod, Rossi gave you a smile, Emily and JJ waved while Morgan winked at you. You bit your lip in anticipation as you finally saw Spencer walk out. His floppy waves were flicked out of his face as he jerked his head and flashed his eyebrows at you in a greeting.
You stood, shoes padding the carpeted floor as your work pants flowed against your thighs. “Hey Spencer. Everything okay?”
“Yeah! Sorry I haven’t really been able to check in with you. Kidnapping cases are a race against time and the unsub happened to be a woman.” You nod as you withhold the urge to hug him but he shifts beside you and leans against your desk.
“A woman? That’s not common is it?”
“Statistically speaking-“ and then he was rambling. You bit back a smile and listened contently as Spencer caught you up on the case.
Several seconds went by and you cleared your throat, signaling him to slow down. “I know you’re probably worn out but would you want to join me for movie night?”
Spencer nods rapidly. “Yes! Sorry I’ve had to reschedule a few times. What’s on the watchlist tonight?” He extends his elbow and you wrap your hand around it.
“Hmm, you pick. Since it’s your first day back.” You smile at him as he leads you both to clock out.
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Spencer Reid was a man with reasonable amounts of self control but every single time he came into your apartment, he couldn’t prevent himself from sneaking a pair of panties into his pocket. It was completely off limits. You were his friend and didn’t look at him that way. You were a gorgeous, sensible and caring woman but he couldn’t possible be your type. Derek Morgan was someone he’d always pair you with. Someone with more confidence. Except now, he was searching for a pair of underwear in your room while you made snacks in the kitchen. You had changed into an oversized evil dead t shirt and shorts. Knee socks to top it all off and all Spencer wanted to do was rip them off and have his way with you but he’d settle for licking a strip in the middle of your thong.
He couldn’t imagine what the real thing tasted like. A pretty pussy hidden away in those little outfits you wore everyday at work. Spencer also had a habit of jerking off hidden away in an office, his dick painfully hard whenever he imagined fucking you.
His car was another spot, where he’d moan your name over and over again picturing your mouth wrapped around his cock. You’d wear the prettiest lipstick too and he’d catch peeks of a pink tongue whenever you ate something. Spencer almost felt like a dog with how pathetic he was for you. Yet he couldn’t admit it to you. His shyness won over every time. He even lied about dating. He just didn’t want you to think he was completely incapable of having a relationship but no one could ever replace you.
“Spencer? You okay? You coming back?” You called from the other room and he quickly straightened. Pulling your panties into his pocket and shuffling out of your bedroom. He smoothed a hand over his hair and hurried to sit down on the couch.
You held two bowls of popcorn, candy and a few other items with your hips swaying as you plopped next to him. “Your food sir.” Spencer had to swallow painfully at the term and the way your voice sounded saying Sir.
“Thank you.” He replied and shifted his body slightly away from you to hide his hardening dick.
You both watched in silence but Spencer caught glimpses of you and the way your body filled out your clothes. He wanted nothing more than to let his hands and mouth cover every each of you. It was almost unbearable.
“How was your date?” Your sudden question alarmed him and Spencer jerked his head towards you.
“What?”
You raised your brows. “How was your date?” You repeated and he shrugged.
“Oh. it’s alright. Don’t think it’s anything worth sharing about.” He kept it short and you both fell again into quiet.
You reached over and turned down the volume. “I missed you, Spencer. It feels like it’s been so long since we’ve gotten to hang out.” You gave him a slight pout with doe eyes and he wanted to fucking groan. His brown irises darkened as you nudged him with your knee. “It’s been really lonely without my favorite nerd.” You gave him a little smirk and he scoffed.
“I’m the nerd? You’re the only person who understands my rambles so clearly I’m not the only one here.” He retorts and you chuckle.
“Okay, okay, I’m a secret nerd.” You hold your hands up and he points at your shirt.
“And you’re the one who lives in shirts like that! Who else knows different seasons of Star Trek than you?” You grin and laugh fully.
“Alight! You win!”
Spencer didn’t know what came over him but he leaned in closer and rested his hand on either side of your legs. “As usual.”
You don’t back away. Instead you dip your head down. “Don’t get cocky, Spencer. This is a one time surrender.”
The way your mouth moved. Your eyes having a glint and the way your thighs clenched together. Spencer couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re going to be surrendering a lot more. You’re just too much of a brat to give in right away.”
To his deep surprise, you surged forward and leaned your weight on him, moving him on his back on the couch. “Oh yeah? Well I can still pin you down, agent Reid.”
Spencer felt like his dick was going to explode in his god damn boxers as you hovered above him, necklaces dangling over his face. “That’s because I let you win.” He replied breathlessly and you squeezed him with your thighs.
“Then don’t.” You whisper and glance at his lips.
He caved in and caught your mouth in a soft kiss, his emotions clouding over him momentarily before he pulled back. “Was that okay?”
Instead of answering, you meet his lips again harder with a sigh and Spencer moans. His hand move to cup the back of your head and your leg as he adjusts you to straddle him fully. Your fingers trail over his torso then his hips and you feel a lacy material sticking out of his pocket. His eyes shot open as he felt you pull out the pair of stolen panties.
Your face is heated and your lips are glossy. “So you’re the one who took my favorite pair. You’re fucking perverted, Spencer. Playing the “good”boy act pretty well.”
Something broke in him and he lifted you up, manhandling you on your back. “I’m fucking perverted? You’re the one walking around wearing those. You wanted me to take them and you wanted me to notice you. Don’t act so innocent. Can’t believe you actually bought the date story.” He growled and you were shocked at his sudden show of aggression and you’d only heard him swear a handful of times.
Spencer peeled off your shorts and saw your bare cunt. “God, let me fucking taste it please.” He begged and you nodded rapidly.
Moving downward, he held your knees apart and buried his face in your center. His tongue lapping at your clit with a deep groan before slipping it into your entrance. “You’re so sweet, better than I could ever dream.” You felt him press two fingers in, curling them as he paid attention to your clit again. Spencer focused on eating your pussy like a starved man and he grinds down on the cushion.
He was about to bust in his underwear from the sounds you let out. Desperate little cries and whimpers as you claw at his hair, rolling your hips to keep him in place.
“I’m gonna cum,” You whisper and Spencer nods against your cunt.
“Let me have it. Give it to me. Please,” And your climax hits you like a wave and you pant heavily.
Spencer follows suit and spills into his pants, his motions briefly stalling as he tongue fucks you through it.
“Need you to fuck me, please, Spencer.” He didn’t have a fucking chance from your pleads as he shuffled up and smashed his cum coated lips against yours in a bruising kiss. He shoved his pants and boxers off, his cock throbbing.
Spencer presses himself deep inside you, filling you to the brim as you wrap your legs around his waist and your hands grip his shirt.
He humps into you like a feral animal, “Fuck, your pussy is so tight. Can barely move.” You whine and clench around him harder and he thrusts.
“I want you to cum in me. Please, don’t stop and cum in me. I want to feel you, god, Spencer I’ve needed you. Fucking myself isn’t enough.”
“Talking like a whore already?” He grunts, “Don’t worry I’m gonna breed this perfect little pussy and then eat it out after I’m done.”
You reached your second orgasm and your eyes squeezed shut but Spencer wasn’t having it. “No open your fucking eyes, I want you to look at me when I cum in you.” Your eyes spring open as Spencer slaps your clit and you feel ropes of his cum coat your insides. “Shit-“ He grits out and buries his head in your neck and you feel his open mouth against your skin.
You tremble with aftershock for a few seconds before he pulls down, pumping himself and gestures with his fingers “Hands and knees, I’m gonna lick it off.”
You obeyed him, ass up in the air as he gave it a smack and buried his face again in your cunt. His tongue tasting both of your arousals with a throaty moan.
You’d have to talk about this but that could wait until after he was finished cleaning his mess.
Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @lilacheavenn @littlexdeaths
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harunayuuka2060 · 3 days
Text
WHB Series #1 (cont.)
Satan: ...
MC: ...
MC: What are you staring at?
Satan: ...
Satan: You seem fine now.
MC: Yeah.
Satan: ...
Satan: I thought something bad had happened to you because you were throwing up.
MC: *clicks their tongue* Why must you remind me- *wants to throw up*
Satan: ...
Satan: What caused this, huh? *amused smile*
MC: I followed Solomon's advice.
MC: And I didn't expect to dream of every freaky thing the world offers.
Satan: *laughs*
Satan: Can you provide an example?
MC: *gives him a side glance*
*hears a nearby explosion*
MC: We've got some job to do.
Satan: *laughs again* Come on! I want to hear it!
MC and Zagan: ...
MC: Thanks for the save.
Zagan: *has shot the angel who was sneaking behind them* *nods*
Satan: Oh, so you have met Zagan already?
MC: That's his name? *looking at Zagan again*
MC: I think I can tolerate you. *proceeds to move to the next location*
Zagan: ...
Satan: ...
Satan: We can't own that one.
Zagan: *sad face*
MC: *checks if they have enough bullets*
MC: Tch. Not good. I need to get some-
Leamas: Descendant of Solomon?
MC: *turns and immediately points their gun at him*
Leamas: W-Wait! I'm a devil of Abyssos! I'm your ally!
MC: The fuck you're not.
Leamas: What-
Satan and the others: *have arrived*
Satan: What's going on? Why are you pointing your gun at him?
MC: This sneaky little bastard pretending to be a devil.
Leamas: I-I am a devil! I have horns! Th-Though they are small...
MC: Sure, buddy. But I'm no fool.
Leamas: ...
Satan: MC, that's enough.
MC: ...
MC: *puts their gun down* *but still glared at him*
Leamas: *nervous as heck*
Sitri: *is also feeling suspicious of Leamas*
Sitri: Your Majesty Satan, what if Solomon is actually right?
Satan: This is Gehenna.
Sitri: ...
Sitri: Yes.
MC: You better have a good reason for approaching us or else.
Leamas: All I could say is I'm your ally.
MC: Yeah, sure. Keep that facade.
Leamas: ...
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theorphicangel · 2 days
Text
“Toji, you’re gonna die if you go in there.”
The man sitting beside you huffs, his large hands gripping your controller. a lazy sunday afternoon and you both have nothing better to be doing so you get the idea of playing video games with your lover and perhaps show Toji your favourite childhood game — Minecraft.
but now you’re thinking that maybe it wasn’t the best idea.
“you’re gonna die.” you repeat watching as he leads his character in first person pov to a cave.
“die from what?” he mumbles. his limps are outstretched on the couch and you lay comfortable on his chest. you decided to play on the tv screen so you could get a better idea of explaining but in the current moment it doesn’t seem to be going so well.
“I dunno….there’s zombies, skeletons and creepers.” you note, a rise of anxiety sweeps throughout your body. he’s gonna die, you think again but your lips fail to sound the words out.
“s’okay, I got a sword.” He mutters, squinting his eyes.
“out of wood.” you deadpan, “that won’t kill them fast enough.”
Toji makes no reply, focusing on the screen.
“you don’t even have a torch—“ you speak up again but your words are interrupted when all of a sudden, Toji’s body shifts from a scare.
“fuck, what was that?”
the screen jumps with every hit and the once full red hearts begin to empty rapidly.
“you’re getting hit by a skeleton, move!”
“I’m trying!” he calls out in frustration, trying to manoeuvre out of the way.
The character on the screen attempts to run away, back to the entrance of the cave to escape. More monsters seem to emerge from the darkness, rapidly chasing after the character.
“quick!” the hearts on the screen continue to decrease with every hit. He was close to making it to the exit of the cave yet before you know it, it was too late.
A silence sits heavy over the two of you.
‘you died!”
‘Toji was blown up by a creeper.’
“I didn’t even hear that little shit.”
“that’s why it’s called a creeper, love, they sneak up on you.”
Toji mutters a few curse words, passing the controller back to you. you take it gladly and return back to then main menu to create a new world.
“let’s go on creative mode for now babe.”
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join my summer event here!
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sweetangelgirl7 · 1 day
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝜗𝜚 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨
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𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 chris has been your escape from the burden of suffocating expectations you've known your whole life, but you can't ignore the emotional distance that's driving a wedge between the two of you anymore.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: DOM!chris x sub!fem reader au, plot, angst, SMUT, fwb, daddy issues, little use of religious imagery, taboo themes, slight degradation kink, bondange, unprotected, adult language, creampie, hair pulling!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k!
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first request! this is inspired by southern gothic aesthetics and ethel cain’s album “preacher’s daughter.” whoever requested this, just know i’m obsessed. i wanna remind y’all the title & visuals are purely for the AESTHETIC! this is 99.9% about daddy issues and the stereotype of the “pastor’s daughter” more than anything, with like one or two lines of ex-religious themes. PLEASE keep scrolling if you want to but i promise the smut is worth it lmao. anyway, enjoy!
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you knew christopher sturniolo was trouble, that’s all you’ve been told your entire life. every boy was trouble, for that matter. although, deep down, you also knew that he was no good for you. the feeling of being with him was like the tender familiarity of a sore blistering red on your gums, it hurt but for some reason you just couldn’t stop messing with it.
in a town full of secrets, he was somehow the hardest puzzle to solve. recently it had become more and more evident that you didn’t really understand chris or what went through his mind, leaving you feeling like you were merely scratching at his surface after all this time. however, you constantly had to remind yourself that it didn’t matter what he thought of you or what he thought of anything quite frankly, as it was just sex, after all. although, those days of climbing in through your bedroom window and sneaking around into the late nights were long gone by now.
for weeks, you had desperately tried anything to keep your mind from flashing the memories of your screams and his break lights casting a red glow on your face as he left you in the night. you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that you were so stupidly caught up over him, as he clearly didn’t give a fuck about you or your feelings. not only that but who’s to say he doesn’t touch every single girl in town the same way he touches you. it wasn’t your business anyway, as his deafening silence made that very clear.
pulling into the dusty driveway, you sat in the driver’s seat as your music loudly filled the car. you gripped the steering wheel between both hands while letting out a long, tired sigh before turning the keys in the ignition as the headlights faded out to leave you sitting in the dark. slamming the door behind you, your car was the only one parked out front as your father practically lived down at the house of the lord, by now.
walking up the creaky wooden porch, you fiddled with the keys to get inside and out of the insufferably humid air.
making your way to your room, the ticking wall clock comforted the silence along with the sound of you dropping your items on the bed side table. this was the rest of your night, as it had been for some time. staying in bed and turning through a book that you had already read a handful of times before or watching videos for hours, as the figures on the screen aided what felt like your eternal loneliness. you refused to attend services, trying desperately to escape from the toxic manifestation of “faith” you’d been controlled with your whole life. as the preacher’s daughter’s apparent absence and so-called promiscuity were already the talk of the congregation. around this time, chris would be laying in bed with you but the house remained vacantly still.
pressing your pajamas on the bathroom sink, you tugged your stiff work clothes off and stood in the steam, waiting for the water to run hot.
standing beneath the showerhead, you let the nearly boiling water wash over your face and body to rid yourself of the grime and sweat attained from stepping outside in the sticky summer. quickly washing your hair, you didn’t want to spend too long under the water, as the solitude only led your mind to wander further than you cared for at the moment.
towel drying off, you slipped the thin two piece cotton set over your still warm body before walking back to your bedroom.
rubbing lotion over your arms, the sound of a car pulling up onto the unpaved road across the street echoed outside.
paying no mind to it, as it was assumingly your father, you continued with your nightly routine before a pounding on the door brought you back soon after. walking down the hallway, the wood flooring cooled your feet as you made your way to the front door. working down the locks, you pulled the deadbolt back, opening the door halfway to see who was on the other side.
there stood chris under the dim light of the porch, looking down at you behind the screen door separating the two of you. looking at his face for a moment, you slammed the door shut as you stood behind it, your hand still against the wood.
you stood in silence as he waited on the other side, both of you knowing that you lacked the willpower to actually turn him away. as chris waited for a few seconds, the sound of the locks turning spilled from inside of the house before you finally opened the door, all the way. he opened the screen door and let himself in.
walking past you down the dark hallway and into your bedroom, you followed a few feet behind him. closing the door, you rested your back against it as chris sat on the edge of your bed, scanning the walls with frames and crucifixes that served as a reminder of the life you painfully tried to forget.
“are we gonna talk about this?” he broke the silence, adjusting the messy brown waves beneath his hat as he now pulled it on backwards over his hair. the squeaky overhead fan saturated the room as he waited for you to speak.
your chest rose as you breathed in heavily, exhaling through your nose slowly to find any ounce of self control left in your system. you looked at him in disbelief, your arms now crossed beneath your chest. “are we gonna talk about this?“ you asked as you bit your tongue to hold back the loathsome thoughts racing in your mind.
“all i do is talk. i can’t say the same for you, though ” you scoffed as your back was still pressed up against the wooden door. you watched his jaw clench at your words in the shadow of your lamp, as he leaned his elbows forward on his spread knees. “and what does that mean?” he shook his head before laughing bitterly to himself, looking up at you.
“you know exactly what i mean, christopher” you also let a laugh roll off your lips to disguise the grief in your tone. aimlessly looking for anything around your room to focus your attention on.
“it’s been nearly a month.” you mumbled, shaking your head as you watched chris in your peripheral vision. “god knows what you’ve been doing this whole time.” you muttered beneath your breath as he kept his eyes glued on you.
“what was that?” he asked, sneeringly placing his pointer finger behind his ear as he pretended to not catch that, although he heard every word.
“i said, god knows what you’ve been doing this whole time.” you forcefully raised your voice, now looking at him.
“and what is it that you think i’ve been doing exactly?” he laughed to himself again, now crossing his own arms over his chest.
“oh c’mon christopher, let’s not act dense” you rolled your eyes.
“no really, i’d just love to hear what you think i’ve been getting into these past few weeks” he nodded before pursing his lips as he leaned back in his seat.
“more like who you’ve been getting into” you scoffed quietly as he raised his eyebrows in shock. laughing at your words, he leaned forward again as he shook his head once more, wiping his hands off over his jeans.
“yeah exactly, you can’t even answer that.” you scorned. in reality you didn’t even know if that statement was true, but with him, you didn’t know what to believe as no matter how big of a crowbar you used, he refused to open up to you. you so badly wanted to chalk his communication issues up to emotional unavailability but it was almost impossible to look past that when he constantly discarded your attempts at wanting more.
“what the fuck are you talking about?” he continued to laugh through the disbelief, as if the same mistrust didn’t have you screaming in each other’s faces just weeks ago. “what’s wrong with you?” he continued, letting the frustration get the best of him as your eyebrows knit together in hurt.
“what’s wrong with me?” you questioned, pushing yourself off the door as you stepped closer to him, holding your hands up to your chest to gesture to yourself.
“what the fuck is wrong with you, christopher?” you began, finally letting yourself shout as you tried not to cry behind your words. “you come around here whenever you want, we fuck, for months at that, and after all this time you still can’t just let me all the way in.” you argued as your voice softly cracked, feeling tears starting to well up in the corner of your eyes.
“i don’t even know what’s going on in here half of the goddamn time.” you stepped closer, firmly tapping two fingers against his head beneath the black fitted hat that covered his hair.
he reached his hand up to grab your wrist before he could stand up in front of you, looking down at you as he held onto your skin tightly between his fingers.
“my god, enough. you don’t think i’m fucking trying? i want you, i don’t want anyone else but you. these past few weeks i’ve been thinking about you non-fucking stop” he asserted, thumping his free hand against his chest “but you wouldn’t know that because where were you?“ he questioned, as he leaned down closer towards you while he spoke. “right.” he whispered egotistically in your face.
while that was the most transparent he’d ever been, you couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief as he seemingly proved your point “no! i wouldn’t know that christopher! how could i possibly have known that, when you don’t tell me anything?” you shouted, your face level with his as you flickered your eyes back and forth between his.
“it only took weeks for you to reach out, probably ran through all of your other options by now.” you words were driven by anger, breaking free from his grasp as you turned your back to open the door for him to find his way out.
twisting the door knob between your fingers, he stood up and walked behind you to slam the door closed before you could even pull it all the way open. you squeezed your eyes shut as the heat of the resentment continued to pulse through your head. you felt his chest pressed against your back as the smell of cologne on his clothes filled your senses. god, you missed that scent but you didn’t miss the seething jealousy that came with it, knowing it was probably lingering in some other girl’s nose too.
“look at me” he commanded as you didn’t budge, your back still to him.
“i said look at me” he repeated himself, taking your hips between his hands as you felt yourself begin to melt at his touch. you didn’t want to give in but you fell short as you could never find the strength to ignore him.
you slowly turned to face him, as a stray tear trailed down your flustered cheek. your jaw clenched at the feeling of crying in front him, fighting from letting another tear stream down your face. you kept your eyes forward, glued to the white fabric of his shirt.
lifting his hand, he grabbed your chin between his fingers and pulled your gaze from his chest to his eyes. you two stared at each other, your eyes scanning one another’s features. you sat in silence for a moment before you could break the tension. “what?” you spat, looking at him through your eyelashes.
“you really think i just wanna fuck anything that moves, huh?” he questioned, his hand wrapped tightly around your jaw as you stared up at him before shifting your attention to avoid eye contact.
“look at me” he said sternly, gripping your jaw tighter, forcing your lips to push out between the space of his thumb and pointer finger. you obeyed, looking up at him as he followed your eyes, watching your every move beneath him.
“where’s your proof?” he muttered angrily, leaning closer in the heat of the moment. “besides the shit you stir up inside that pretty little head of yours” using his free hand to tap his fingers against the side of your head, mocking your motions from earlier, as he pressed your back against the door.
the silence became palpable while you stared at him as you visibly had nothing to say to back up your argument. “huh?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows as he waited for you to argue back as you had doing been all night.
you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at your exuding insecurities, as the signs burned red at your cheeks. you didn’t want to ruin things between you two but you couldn’t stay silent and continue to feel hopelessly shut out by him anymore. however, in this case, your mistrust and miscommunication took control of your emotions. you so badly wanted to look away in humiliation but you were trapped in his stare.
“get on the bed” he broke your train of thought as he finally released your face from his hold, your features painting a confused expression.
“go” he stood back and motioned to the bed, forgivingly slapping your ass as he let you walk past him.
sitting on the edge of the twin sized bed, you pulled yourself to the middle of the white sheets as you looked up at him standing in front of you.
“get on your knees and say a prayer, daddy’s girl” chris uttered, nodding at the wooden cross on the wall above your bed. you nodded timidly before turning to face your headboard, sitting back on the balls of your feet.
although you couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of him shuffling behind you. moving to the end of your bed, he reached forward to slip your tank top over your head as you lifted your arms up for him. the lukewarm breeze that the overhead fan was pushing around caused your nipples to stiffen. you rested your hands on your thighs while you waited for his touch, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.
chris trailed his fingers up the flat of your exposed back, pushing your hair to the side as he made his way up your body. he reached forward to unclasp the gold crucifix that had been around your neck since birth, letting it fall down your chest as you leaned over to place it on your bed side table. he pulled his white t-shirt over his head and tossed it to the carpeted floor before moving behind you on the bed.
you sat on your knees while he stood on his, behind you, as your eyes were glued up at the wall. he wrapped his hand around your neck to gently bring your back to his exposed chest, kissing down the crook of your neck as you tilted your head to the side with eyes shut. “dirty girl, thinking about my dick inside someone else” he uttered against your skin hungrily as you leaned into his lips.
he pulled back to rest his hand against your back, pressing your chest down into the bed as your cheek flattened against the white duvet. your ass lifted from the heels of your feet as you arched your back into the bed, feeling the sting of his hand slapping your ass over your shorts. your hands remained at your sides before trying to push yourself up on all fours as chris quickly flattened your upper half into the bed again.
“nuh uh” he muttered, standing to his knees as he fiddled with the belt around his waist, the sound of the clanging metal buckle filled your ears as you couldn’t see anything but a face full of sheets and the haunting willow trees breezing outside of the window. “put your wrists behind your back” chris ordered as you did exactly that, resting your hands behind you as you leaned into the mattress.
you managed to turn your head the other way, looking for the standing mirror in the corner of your room as you watched chris wrap his belt tightly around your wrists. he slapped your ass again as you attempted to adjust yourself farther upwards. chris wrapped his hands tightly around your hips as he pulled you upwards, arching your back down farther.
“we gotta do something about these” he muttered to himself, sliding his hands past your hips with the material of your shorts rolling down beneath them. he pulled the fabric down the rest of the way, dropping them to your legs as he slipped them from beneath your knees.
“already so fucking wet for me” chris laughed to himself as he trailed the pad of his thumb over the damp patch of your panties. you shuddered at his touch, feeling your nerves twitching beneath the fabric.
he continued to tease you over your underwear for a moment before hooking his fingers around the waistband to pull them off. they dropped around your knees as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, trailing his fingers over your pussy. he teased over your clit, watching your muscles jerk at the feeling as you whined quietly. he took the pad of his thumb between his lips, brushing the taste over his bottom lip.
“you think i’d want any other taste, besides yours, on my lips?” he chuckled at the idea, straightening himself up as he worked on unbuttoning his jeans. dropping them over his knees, he adjusted himself beneath his boxers before tugging them down as his hard cock sprung upward immediately past the waistband.
taking his dick between one hand, chris slapped your ass in the other as he rubbed out the red imprint beginning to spread beneath his fingers. you vulnerably flinched at the feeling, letting a low moan out as you squeezed your eyes shut. he pumped himself a few times before smacking his straining cock between your ass, trailing himself downwards over your folds. rubbing his sensitive tip against your pussy, he hissed through his teeth at the feeling before lining himself up with your entrance. holding your hips in his hands, he gripped his fingers on your skin as he pushed himself inside of you between your folds, equally pulling your hips back on his cock. your warmth instantly wrapping around him as your lips parted at the feeling, letting a moan out into the bed.
“fuuck, there we go” he groaned to himself as he slowly pulled out to thrust into you again, even harder this time as he completely bottomed out causing the side of your cheek to shove into the bed. you whimpered as your body took the blow by suprise, your stomach instantly tightening.
he continued with this pace, allowing you to get accustomed to the feeling as you harshly tugged at your bottom lip to suppress the moans fighting their way out of your mouth.
chris smoothed his fingers up your back to twist the ends of your hair around his hand before pulling your head back as he leaned over your body. your chin forcefully dug into the mattress before slightly lifting off the bed, looking up at the wood paneled walls as he held tightly onto the hair between his fist, pounding into you harder.
“why so quiet? you weren’t this quiet when you were running that pretty little mouth earlier” he breathily groaned into the skin of your neck while he deliberately thrusted into you harder. your lips parted open at the shock as a high moan escaped with the force. “you think i’d wanna bury my cock into anyone else?” he muttered, continuing with the same rhythm, only harder now as his hips repetitively hit your ass.
your body rocked forward as he pounded in and out of you, your lips still agape as he fucked the jealousy right out of your system. “fuck, i’m so sorry chris” you whined, as you could feel his warm breath against your skin.
he laughed at the sound of your whimpers, gripping your hair harder as he pulled your head farther back, moving closer to the side of your face. “if only daddy could hear you beg for mercy now” chris teasingly groaned in your ear while he continued to hammer his cock into your cervix, letting go of his hold on your hair as your chin instantly dug back into the bed.
taking your hips between his hands once more, he continued to exert his cock into you as your moans muffled into the sheets. the sound of his hips slapping against your perspiring skin echoed throughout the house. his grip tightened around your body as you turned your head to press into the bed, watching him through watery eyes in the mirror as he pounded into you from behind.
“chris, i’m gonna cum” you inaudibly choked out as your back arched farther into the bed while he picked up his pace, your face repeatedly smushing into the duvet. the focus furrowing between his eyebrows dissolved as his lips quirked up into a smirk. “louder, baby, i can’t hear you over all that fucking dick you’re taking” he chuckled under his breath as he slapped his hand against your ass, slightly rolling his head back, also nearing his climax.
“i’m gonna c-cum” you moaned loudly, barely being able to form the words as your eyes rolled back, the pressure building in your stomach. chris painfully clutched onto your hips as he buried himself inside of you, deep and hard.
“oh my god” you whined before your walls clenched around him tightly, finally releasing as you felt a warm sensation of euphoria rush through your body. your muscles felt weak as chris continued to thrust his cock inside of you through your orgasm.
“fuck i’m right there” he moaned out before digging his fingers into your skin, pushing himself farther into your hips as he released his warm load deep inside of you with a hiss through his teeth. the sudden warmth causing your eyes to squeeze shut.
he rolled through the high as his cock twitched inside your walls, lazily thrusting before smacking your ass one more time. “god damn” he shouted as his head rolled back, slowly pulling himself out of you.
your eyes remained closed as you tried to catch your breath while chris flopped down on the bed next to you. bucking his hips up, he pulled his jeans back up over his legs before laying down once again. adjusting beneath your weight you finally stretched your legs out and laid down on your stomach. turning your neck, you rested your face in the opposite direction to look chris over as he lay down next to you, your wrists still resting against your back.
“was that enough talking for you?” he mumbled, turning on his side to face you with a smirk. you laughed sheepishly as you shook your head before he could press his lips against yours.
“i’m sorry, baby” he mumbled quietly against your mouth. “i’m trying, believe me. it’s just hard.” he confessed as you nodded, wanting nothing more than to caress his face between your hands. “i’m sorry too.” you apologized quietly, softly connecting your lips once more.
he trailed his hand up your body and over your back as he began to adjust the belt around your wrists before the sound of a car pulling up the driveway broke the kiss as you both turned to look at the door.
chris laughed as he reached over to grab his shirt from the floor, quickly pulling it on over his head as he crept towards the edge of your bed under the window.
“wait, chris!” you called quietly, squirming as you tried to fiddle with the restraints behind your back. leaning forward to plant a kiss against your lips one more time, he swiftly slid the window open before stepping one leg out onto the damp grass. “sorry sweetheart, i’ll come back for you tomorrow.” he winked down at you before completely stepping out into the night, shutting the window behind himself.
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WHEWWW hope y’all r up horny on a wednesday night 😮‍💨 i’m a slut for sub!chris but this one had a lil kick to it. i couldn’t help but slip a little soft chris in there at the end SORRY. anyway, i hope whoever requested this enjoyed it as much as i did!
i’m actually working on a taglist, so let me know if you’d wanna be added to that! 💋
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1864reruns · 2 days
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ౨ৎ zoro, sanji, ace, law & "casual" relationships
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS
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includingㅤ━ㅤroronoa zoro, sanji vinsmoke, portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. law
tag(s)&warning(s). drabbles, gn! reader, sfw, slightly suggestive, we all yearners here, nothing new, little bit of angst, fwb's and/or lack of labels
from vyon. my intention was to have reader upset on the dynamics of their relationship but i can't see any of the op boys/men loving casually (apart from a couple sluts... shanks.. jokes :p), their love runs so deep, it governs their every move soooo :3 sorry if that was what you were expecting, but i was also expecting that until i started writin for zo and the rest jus followed; i wanted to add lufs, but i feel like if he loved you, he'd make it known and apparent, he leaves no room to doubt when he loves
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zoro, unsurprisingly, doesn't indulge in casual relationships. nothing in his life has ever been casual for him, not his swords, not his captain, not his crew, and it certainly won't be you that he'll ever feel casual about. it starts small, it starts stupid, it's a stroke of impulsivity and that's his downfall. the swordsman dwells on the immediate here and now often. though of course, zoro has long–term plans with his life, but a lot of the details between his current now and the promised future are blurred, unclear— which allows him enough space and flexibility to adapt to any new situations that he's thrown into. he's diligent and stubborn, but smart enough to know that it's necessary not to be so rigid and headstrong.
when you become casual, it's like something in him has been satisfied, a ruining ache that'd had settled below the scars he'd first received from mihawk stops hurting. your hands smoothed over his skin, your large smile thrown over your shoulder with the sun melting over your features, your warmth so sticky and humid when you sneak into his hanmock— he warns you that he's sweaty from training but it doesn't deter you, telling him that you're also sweating from running around with your captain all day. you'll both just have to take a shower later, you tell him and zoro naturally imagines himself trailing after you into the bathroom with no incentive. it all becomes so natural that luffy, nami, chopper, everyone begins looking for you when it's zoro they want. admittedly, there's still a dull sting where the ache used to lay sometimes. when your head nods down, your body stretched out on top of his, and you press your lips so slow, so sweet against his own that he thinks the next words to leave your lips when you pull away will be a confession. a declaration that might make his own promise to become the best swordsman pale in comparison. but old wounds scar, and those scars hurt when you press down on them because they're so deep.
that's why zoro still feels the ache sometimes when your entire weight presses him down, rendering him immobile— him, a swordsman, immobile. he's allowed your marks onto his back, there's so much softness in how he touches you and yet. there's still nothing tangible.
sanji wouldn't settle for a casual relationship unless it's the only thing he could get and unfortunately, it's the only thing he thinks he'd be capable of having with you. no matter how tall, how gentlemanly, how sweet, generous, attractive sanji was, there's something inherent in him that makes the thought of having you promised to his heart incomprehensible. without that tangible promise, there's nothing there for him to inevitably destory; no heart of yours left in the care of a vinsmoke and he believes it to be for the best.
despite how his heart lurches whenever you sneak up on him in the kitchen, despite your footsteps already so familiar to his heart that it immediately accompanies the dull beating that sounds in his ribs as you draw yourself closer and closer, wrapping your arms around him and leaning yourself onto him. despite how it's like you trust him as your weight falls onto him, despite how you relax as his arm reaches back awkwardly just to accommodate you, laying on your waist. despite the domesticity you offered as a lingering kiss on his cheek and ask him what he's making. despite it all.
he knows he wants something more— robin learns he wants something more when she becomes a witness to the decision to allow his fist to fall on the face of creep that had followed you all the way back to the sunny, but it's knowledge that'll always be foreign to you. it's haunting still, as you hold his hands in yours and dab a cotton soaked in antiseptics on his knuckles. his fingers tighten around yours when you finish, drawing away to put the first aid kit back and he pulls you back. just for a moment, whilst the skin of his hands are raw and bloody and weak enough not to hurt your heart if you ever decided to hand it over.
ace thinks himself capable of keeping things casual, foolish really when he pauses long enough to remember that his entire being was moulded from love. though it helps that he's such a notorious pirate, from such a notorious crew; it helps him pack up with excuses of having things he needed to do, people he needed to see, and people to avoid. he doesn’t stick around one place for too long, an enigmatic and mysterious enough man to make a decent night to tell friends about. he's content with that, whitebeard either doesn't know or doesn’t care, and his crew can't complain since he doesn't ever bring them on board. (though marco sometimes makes him go through very specific check ups that he gets teased for. even then, the trail of hearts he leaves behind is fairly scarce despite how his crew paints him out to be.)
that's why it's surprising for his crew to see him come back to the docked moby dick on an island under whitebeard's protection with someone trailing behind him. some of them hang from the guard rails, watching with interest as he spreads his arms towards his father's ship with a proud smile that only grows to look like it's tearing through his skin as your eyes widen in amazement. he hangs around the dock with you for a while longer, talking your ear off it seems as his fellow pirates swap places watching their commander. when the sun begins setting, ace is waving goodbye to you with a smile that's promising his return and immediately gets teased when he shoots himself up in a pillar of fire to get onto the ship. (the pirates ignore the way he looks over his shoulder to see if you've seen it.)
though surprising, they think they've seen the last of the unlucky soul ace has bought close to the moby dick until they're two days worth of sailing away from that island and he's scrunching his nose up at a sheet of paper, humming and making loud, annoying noises until someone else cuts in and asks what he's reading. a letter, he states. who's sending his ass letters? they wonder. the letters persist. a few months later, they're rounding back to that island because there'd been trouble there. whitebeard thinks it's lucky that ace was off on his own business when he'd gotten the news but when he makes it to the island, there are flickers of flames so vibrant and tamed that could only belong to his son. it takes a while for things to calm down, but ace is holding someone close to his chest as he pushes through the rooms of the moby dick, shouting for marco.
whilst marco is watching over you, whitebeard has to order ace away from your side to talk to him. it's customary for whitebeard pirates to introduce their lovers to their father, he tells ace. ace's face scrunches up, a flicker of regret. it's nothing like that.
law is a realist, a man of science, only convinced by facts and straightforward reasoning. love has neither facts nor straightforward reasoning; it's not something he can study to understand better, he has nothing to cut open, to observe in different conditions under a microscope. the body's desires, on the other hand, is easily explained by science. even then, law isn't one really to have desires often. they're unlikely and rare, but they happen sometimes and he rations that it's simple biology to wake up with his pants uncomfortably tight.
knowing you well enough, law's no stranger to the fact that you're not someone that can be easily swayed enough to the delusions of love after a few nights together— you're smart. though the first time is a simple accident. days, weeks, months of being stuck in the polar tang around his crew with no space or privacy to take care of himself, it only takes a couple lingering touches and a misguided conversation for law to reach out. after, you both come to an agreement that'll simply help you both let off some steam. it's easy, it's simple, until it isn't and law finds out that he was a stranger to himself and he finds that he is someone that is easily swayed by delusion. he rationalises it as a physical attraction.
then, you are separated. he misses his crew of course, and when the thought hones in, detailing out the features of you that he'd missed, he rationalises and he rationalises. luckily, with the arrival of the strawhats and their reckless captain, law has barely any time alone with any thoughts that aren't doubts about teaming up with them and more and more plans to counteract the ones that had been messed up. somehow, magically, luckily, it all works out. for the first time in a while, his mind is quiet. he doesn’t think of you or the strawhats. his mind strays further back to a certain love that'd left him starved, crawling in the shadow of the words that'd been governing him for a long time.
and of course, because nothing in his life ever goes his way, he's shook awake, forced to face his raw and unadulterated feelings with no way to rationalise. don't try to find a reason for someone's love, whilst poetic and helpful in another context, law finds many reasons why he loves you and none of them belong to the categories: fact or straightforward reasoning. he dreads returning to you and having to force his love back under those two genres.
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astralnymphh · 2 days
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can yoy do ellie massaging you after you've had a long day of work? (i love your fics btw)
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⋆˚✿˖° literally eager to do it at every hour of the day. but after the utmost grueling hours of your day, she makes it her job to soothe you. well— provided that she sneaks in a couple (lie) neck kisses alongside those massages. love is a grandeur thing ellie cannot hold herself from, even in the most mundane moments. i guess. try to explain anything to her and she'll get distracted.
silky smooches are laid behind the caress of her fingers, trickling up your shoulders slowly. her hands are good in practice—but that dork has an affinity for distraction, an impulsive mouth. the question is: are you the object of her distraction, or is it her own brain? it particularly takes over in whispers puffed against your neck. “you wanna—” kiss. “tell me—” another kiss. “'bout your day? could use a distraction right now.” and another.
“are you sure you aren't already distracted?” quickly, a smart remark leaves your mouth. a spry use of tongue to masquerade those sighs of easement when her fingers press circles into the base of your neck. you feel her breath graze you, “psh— shut up,” and the heat of her 'shut up' brand into your skin. softened by a punctual kiss thereafter. “thats the point.”
you're unsure on why you even thought to ask, “you're such'a idiot.” because you could only sweep aside her stupid response and stretch your neck out for her; indulging. “'love that about you, though.” sneaking in a compliment, since you know how cherry-flushed they get her. such a sucker for love. “mhm?” ellie hums, warming it through a kiss to your jaw. “last time you talked me up about how smart i am. which is it, babe?” suddenly, her hands were defiant, and roamed your body where 'mundane massages' take place the least; pawing at the plush of your thigh so innocently (another lie), a knowing grin curling at your nape. “cuz' it can't be both..” the tip of her nose is pushing into you, poking for answer.
“i think you choose when to be smart n' when to be an idiot. idiot more often, obviously.” those knuckles bending and pressing into your thigh pause for a glance, followed up by an offended laugh from her, a brief snort coming from her nose. “obviously? obviously? you dick..” ellie is definitely blushing her ass off right now. but her hands resume almost instantaneously, and so do her antsy lips. knuckles flexing into your skin, lips nipping little wisps of skin and suckling.
ellie just couldn't handle being mean to you back—only spare kisses of forgiveness, and let you breathe in every compulsive grope of your thighs, hands making way across every inch of your body. cherishing the way you just melt into her palms. “that feel good? hmhm—know it does.” pride painting her lips at each mewl she can strum from you.
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whoops got a little excited there at the end 💜 @/elliestattooo on pinterest for the pic.
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ddodol · 16 hours
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nasty — l.cy
mini series ⭑.ᐟ [ working ] synopsis ⭑.ᐟ you just want to make time for your new boyfriend. content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, coworker bf!anton, fem!reader, pet names, slight bondage mentions, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (oops). word count⭑.ᐟ 3.2k+
⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
✩🎧⭑.ᐟ [ nasty — ariana grande ]
⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
“good morning, love.”
you smiled widely at anton, standing up from your chair to give him a tight hug. he chuckles, leaning in to wrap his arms around your waist. anton was on his morning routine of buying you coffee and getting hugs in return, his favorite part of an otherwise bleak morning.
”did you get home safe last night?” anton asked against your hair, smiling when you nodded. “you saw me go in, toni,” you giggled, “and thanks for the coffee, baby.” you poked at his arm, suddenly feeling shy at how sweet anton was being.
anton laughed, pulling away to give you a small peck on the cheek, “anything that would get me a hug from you, love.”
you hummed, looking up at anton in adoration. the two of you have been dating for a month now, the most shocking development in your life and you never would’ve believed that anton shared the same feelings if it weren’t for a project you both worked on. until now, you’re still in complete shock that anton’s all yours.
work has always been something you prioritized, not having the desire nor time for romance but being with anton completely changed your life. he always made sure you weren’t overworking, even going as far as to help you with your workload discreetly. aside from coffee in the mornings, anton always dropped off lunch and even dinner on your table whenever you were too busy to pull yourself away from work. you couldn’t help but find yourself extremely lucky to have him as your boyfriend, giggling and kicking your feet every time you remember.
anton suddenly kissed your lips, successfully pulling you out of your trance. you smack his arm in embarrassment, making anton laugh at the cute look on your face. “what were you thinking, baby?” he asked teasingly, just smiling at you as he took your hands in his.
you looked away suspiciously, “work.” anton laughed, shaking his head. “no way you’re thinking of work with a lovestruck look on your face, y/n. please lie better,” you rolled your eyes at him, burying your head against his chest as he laughed softly.
”toni,” he hummed, smiling as he waited for what you were going to say. “wanna have another date on friday? something more special, maybe?” anton pulled away, scrunching his face at you.
“is there something going on? you know there’s no celebration i’m not aware of.” you giggled, tip toeing to place a kiss on his cheek, “nothing too special, just had something in mind,” you dragged your finger down his chest, the shirt he was wearing got dragged along to reveal a bit of his skin, hoping that he’d get the message somehow.
anton laughed when he understood, pulling you in for a quick kiss, “i get it, you’re needy,” he teased for one last time before getting away from you before you could slap his arm, leaving you in your desk just glaring at him as he ran away. you found yourself giggling like an idiot, shaking your head before sitting back down your chair.
work distracted you in a good way this time, unable to wait for friday to come any faster. anton has been incredibly touchy with you after that day, sneaking kisses and lingering around for longer during breaks. his hands wandered a bit too much as well, landing on your ass and giving it a little squeeze, or having his arms under your tits while he was hugging you from behind. you wanted to tease him back but you knew you were just as excited as he was, so you just let him feel you up whenever he felt like it.
thankfully, friday came quick. despite the multiple alarms you set up, you woke up way earlier than your alarm out of excitement. you made sure to doll yourself up for today, your skin visibly glowing once you were done. you wore a dress for the first time in a while, wanting to entertain anton’s wandering hands. the praises you got from random coworkers were nothing compared to rendering anton speechless at the mere sight of you. you could’ve sworn he almost dropped the coffee he got for you that morning, biting back your laughter when his shaky hands placed them down on your desk.
anton leaned down to place a peck on your cheek, “you look gorgeous, love.” you smiled widely, wanting to mutter a small thanks when you suddenly felt his lips down your neck. “toni!” you exclaimed quietly, turning your head to see a mischievous look on his face. you rolled your eyes, leaning in to give him a quick kiss, “you can do more of that later, don’t tease me now.”
”no, that’s not fair. i think i’m the one getting teased, y/n.” you giggled, “glad to know that it’s working.” anton smiled widely, chuckling at your adorable attempts to rile him up. anton lingered around longer even after you went back to your work, just smiling as he looked at you up and down. honestly, it was hard to pretend like you were clueless when anton was undressing you with his eyes so blatantly.
you let out a small sigh when anton finally went back to his desk, laughing breathlessly at how smitten he looked. you just knew tonight was going to be fun. or at least it was supposed to be.
”you’re going on an overseas trip tonight, y/n.”
you blinked at your superior, unable to even utter a complaint at how ridiculous the situation was. the coworker that was supposed to be taking care of the approved overseas project you and anton had worked on last month got sick, so you were the only remaining option as you’re one of the two people that knows the project well. anton, unfortunately, was busy with a different project so you couldn’t drag him with you.
from what you were told, the tickets were already arranged and you had to go tonight because the oh-so important presentation was tomorrow. already. “you’ll do fine, there’s not much you need to study up on because it’s your proposal. you can go ahead and leave work early so you can pack.” if it was any other day, you’d be jumping up and down in celebration.
you slumped forward on your desk, slamming your face against the smooth surface with a soft thud. you earned concerned looks from your coworkers, asking if you were alright, but you paid them no attention. the date you were looking forward to the entire week was suddenly cancelled. not to mention, you’d be gone for another week because there were more things you had to oversee. you couldn’t have that when you were promised a romantic night with your new boyfriend.
”y/n?” you raised your head at the sound of anton’s familiar soft voice, sniffling when you saw his face. he just chuckled at your face, rubbing your forehead with his thumb, “your forehead’s all red.” you pouted at him, he’s probably heard of the news by now, smiling at you a bit sadly.
”i don’t wanna go, toni,” you whined childishly, pulling on his sleeve. anton laughed, caressing your poor forehead, “i know, love. i don’t want you to go either, i would go with you if i could.” this was going to be the first time you two would be apart since you started dating, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how empty you’d feel without him or how much of a mess you’d be without anton looking after you.
anton sighed softly, pinching your cheek playfully, “come on, i’ll give you a ride home so you can pack.” you pouted, rubbing your cheek against his hand, eliciting a cute chuckle out of him. “let me spend some time with you before you leave, y/n,” the mention of your business trip made you want to cry, scrunching your face at him.
”i’m not leaving,” you huffed childishly, crossing your arms just to make yourself clear. anton just nodded, smiling as he played with your styled hair, “it’s a shame for me too, baby. i know our date’s cancelled but let me take you out for a quick one, hm?” you stared at anton with huge eyes, nodding cutely at the offer.
that was all it took for anton to finally pull you out of the office, driving away to the date location he managed to find at such a short amount of time. considering how early it was, the fancy restaurant anton brought you to was nearly empty. “would’ve loved to show you off but this would do for now,” you laughed, sitting down on the chair anton pulled for you.
the date went on for a short while, leaving you pouty once anton asked for the tab. “stop pouting, y/n,” anton chuckled, reaching his arm out to pinch your cheek. you really didn’t want to grumble again but you couldn’t help it, you really didn’t want to leave. not when you were this turned on by how hot anton looked with the pretty lighting at the restaurant.
”toni,” you whined, catching anton’s attention just as he finished paying. he smiled at you, waiting for you to keep talking, “do something about the tingling in between my legs too.”
anton smiled widely, eyes sparkling at your words, “hm, we can’t have that, can we?”
you don’t know how you two ended up making out in the restaurant’s bathroom stall, but you weren’t going to complain— happily melting in anton’s arms as he kissed you so passionately. anton held you up against the door of the stall, making you whimper at the cold surface.
”fuck, couldn’t wait until i had my hands on you, love,” anton muttered breathlessly, huge hands gripping on your torso, almost leaving a mark at how tightly he was holding onto you. “toni, this was all i could think about all week,” you confessed, eliciting cute giggles from anton. “i know, baby, i feel the same.”
you felt anton’s hand sliding down to your thigh, squeezing on it gently, ”it’s our first, let me take my time with you, baby.” you whined, shaking your head, “you don’t have to do that, anton. i can handle it, just let me feel you.” anton smiles at you, letting out a shaky breath, “you don’t know what you’re saying, love.”
you blinked, swallowing thickly at how you could feel anton’s self-control; he was trying his best not to give in to his desires. “are you big, toni?” anton laughs at the adorable question, finding the little shake in your voice cute as well. “not a lot of people ask me that so i don’t know how to respond,” he smiled widely, leaning in to place a kiss on your neck, “but knowing you, baby, you’d probably like it a lot.”
”then you don’t have to take your time,” anton furrowed his brows at how stubborn you were. “you said i’d like it a lot,” you pouted, “if you say it like that, it’ll make me want to have it as soon as possible.” he chuckled, shaking his head at how cute you were.
he hummed, “don’t cry to me when you start to feel overwhelmed, okay?” you bit your lip as you nodded innocently, completely clueless of your imminent fate. anton unbuckled his belt while you tried to take your panties off. he had a small smile on his face, puling away from you briefly to fully take your panties off. you stared at him curiously, “i don’t mind if it gets ruined, toni.”
anton shakes his head, giggling, “had a little something in mind because you were being stubborn.” anton took your panties in his hand and your wrists in his other, using your underwear as a makeshift restraint for your wrists. you feel shivers down your spine, huge eyes staring into anton’s as he smiled in satisfaction at what he just did.
”… toni?” you called out meekly, already trembling as he placed your hands above your head, hooking it on the small hook by the stall’s door. anton hummed, smiling at how vulnerable you are right now. “are you into this kind of stuff, baby?” you asked, making anton laugh. “not really, i just thought you’d look good like this,” he placed a small kiss on your cheek, “besides you’ve been teasing me all week.”
you giggled, “oh, so i’ve been bad?” you smiled teasingly. anton licked his lip, grinning as he nodded, “very bad, baby.” anton leaned forward, pressing his body against you as he kissed your lips. you smiled at the contact, already deciding to leave it all up to anton as you melt into his touch. anton placed his hands under your ass, gently guiding your legs around his waist.
it wasn’t until you felt anton’s tip poking your thigh, prompting you to look down, when you finally understood why anton would rather take his time with you. “eyes on me, love. can’t have you changing your mind when i’m about to lose mine,” anton let out a low groan, holding your chin with one hand to make you look at him as his other hand guided his tip against your entrance.
you felt air escaping your lungs when anton slipped his tip inside, trembling pathetically, hands trying to grasp onto anything for support. “relax for me, baby. you said you wanted to feel me,” anton choked out, breathing heavily at how tight you felt.
”i’m trying, toni,” you whimpered, throwing your head back against the door. you felt incredibly stretched, letting out small cries whenever anton would move shallowly. your head started to feel light, pain from earlier began to feel more pleasurable and now you’re already hungry for more. anton could also tell with the way your walls would flutter around his cock, chuckling at how adorable you were being even without saying anything.
”good girl,” he whispered against your ear before thrusting inside you roughly. “fuck!” you exclaimed, shuddering as you came just from his cock completely filling you up. anton bit his lip, finding the way you’d clench down on him a bit too addicting, “i know you just came, love, but can i please move? you feel so good right now,” anton whimpered breathlessly, placing kisses all over your neck.
you whimpered, finding yourself just as needy, “fuck me, toni. give it to me,” you moaned, head completely clouded with desire. anton was more than happy to oblige, bucking his hips against yours. his pace was deep, making you see stars with the way he’d relentlessly pound into your walls. “toni— so fucking deep!” you cried, body spasming at how overwhelmed you were feeling.
”fuck, you’re driving me insane, y/n,” anton moaned, burying his head against your neck as he thrusted mindlessly. you try to free yourself from the restraints anton put on your wrists, wanting to claw his back or play with your throbbing clit as he slammed his cock inside you. “toni, i need more,” you whimpered pathetically, trying to grind your hips against anton’s.
”still need more, love?” anton panted, raising his head to look at your flushed expression, half-lidded eyes staring back at him needily. he chuckled breathlessly, “fuck, you look so pretty like this, baby. show me more.” you cried loudly when anton began to hit all your sensitive spots. you couldn’t think, head spinning as you moaned anton’s name over and over. you threw your head back, completely losing it as you cum for the second time.
anton placed a kiss on your lips, rubbing his thumb against your waist, “you still good, love? we’re making a bit of a mess but if you want to keep going,” he smiled when you looked at him, still absolutely fucked out but you managed to understand his words. “i want another, toni. please fill me up,” he laughed softly, pecking your lips.
”so cute, y/n. i’ll fill you right up, love.”
maybe you began to regret your choice of words a little bit, crying out incoherently as anton slammed his hips against yours. you belatedly find out that anton was actually holding back earlier. he’s also going as far as to play with your swollen clit while hitting all the right spots, driving you insane with every movement. “toni, it’s too much,” you cried weakly, laying your body against anton’s as he just kept going. he muttered something against your ear, not that you had the energy to understand or reply. all you could do right now was moan prettily for him and take all that he was giving you.
”anton,” you muttered weakly, body tensing up as you feel your orgasm building up. “my hands, toni. please— fuck! i wanna hold you, love,” you whimpered, making anton coo at you lovingly. he easily unhooked your wrists, underwear breaking in the process but you couldn’t care less. you held anton’s face in your hands, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. anton smiled against the kiss, returning it happily even though you could barely keep up.
”love, i’m close,” anton whispered against your lips, smiling at the cute expression on your face. “you’re so adorable, baby. let me see you cum,” you moaned in response, letting out a loud cry as you come all over his cock. anton winced at your tightness, breathing heavily as his own orgasm approached. “anton! love, please!” you cried out, tired body laying against anton’s as he kept thrusting inside you.
you choked out a cry, making a huge mess as anton pulled out and came on your thighs. anton flinched sensitively as he squeezed every single drop out of himself, sighing softly at the mess he made on your thigh. he looked at you, completely out of it as you laid your head against the stall’s door. “love, come back to me,” he muttered playfully, chuckling as he patted your cheek.
”toni,” you mumbled, staring at anton with half-lidded eyes, “i don’t think i can move.” anton hummed as you slumped over him, “that’s fine, love. i can carry you to the car.” you chuckled weakly, losing control of your body when anton pulled away to lift you in his arms. “you really can’t move, huh? is it that bad?”
”i think you’re forgetting that i’m just an overworked office worker, love. i’m not built like you,” anton laughs, placing an apologetic kiss on your lips as he opened the door to leave the bathroom you two were just in.
”think they heard us, toni?” you asked quietly, wrapping your arm around anton to hide your face in embarrassment. “i don’t know about them hearing me, but they definitely heard you, y/n.” you whined against his neck, kicking your feet as he laughed at your reaction.
anton gently placed you in the passenger seat, reclining it so you can lay comfortably. he stared at you for a bit, smiling widely at how cute you looked with your skin still flushed and glowing.
“go get all the rest you can get, love, we’re continuing at your place,” anton kissed your forehead. you sighed softly, shutting your eyes close as you pray for your body to be able to keep up before your flight.
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pwinkprincess · 1 day
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hii! i see you’re back! hope everything’s okay 🫶 tumblr has been crazy with the links so i understand the break. i was wondering if you could write pussydrunk choso basically a longer version of your safe word fic except reader enjoys it lol thanksss
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“i-i need it, baby. fuck i need to cum in this pussy.” choso’s rambling in your ear as he fucks into you. he has already came inside of you twice, but with choso’s stamina and desperacy you know he could go until he’s practically shooting blanks.
“i know, baby. go ahead, ‘s your pussy.” in response to your words, choso lets out a whine. he lowers his lips to yours, the two of you begin a messy make out session. your tongues slide into each other's mouths while you two whine and moan out.
both your arousal and choso’s cum is flowing out of your pussy like a river. both liquids coming out of you create an obscene squelch every time choso smacks his hips against yours. 
“need you on top of me, please.” he’s pulling out of you and flipping you over before you could even give him a solid response. you let out a drawn out gasp when he rubs the tip of his dick against your clit a few times before completely sliding inside of you. the both of you stare at each other’s faces as you moan to each other.
he grabs you by the neck with two hands, it’s not enough to hurt but just enough to hold you in place while rocks his hips up. you can’t do anything but wrap your hands around his wrists, even though it's truly no use since he keeps his hands firm around you.
“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you repeat as you bounce yourself on your boyfriend’s cock. everything feels so good, your mouth opens in an ‘o’ as the tip of his dick brushes against your walls. 
“‘m so fucking sensitive, not gonna last long.” he warns you. his voice has taken a more whiney tole. his eyes have grown more lidded while his pale skin is flushed red.
he lets go of his embrace around your neck, his clingy hands grab onto your breasts for a few seconds. he grabs and pinches them causing high moans to escape from you. his eyes searches for yours as his hands go lower. one hand rests on your hip while the other goes to your clit. you gasp his name from the added sensation.
“chooo!” you pant his name. your back arches deeper, your breasts are directly in his face now. choso can’t stop himself from wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. his eyes shut as he lightly bites down on it. “cumming一ah!” your orgasm sneaks onto you both. you chant his name like a mantra while your pussy clenches around his dick, making a creamy mess on it.
he let’s go of your nipple, a thin line of spit follows and he breaks it. “shit.” he curses. he swiftly wraps his arms around your mid back, he pushes you against his chest. you’re still a bit woozy and can only lay there as he adjusts you like some sort of doll.
he plants his feet down onto the mattress. a series of moans rip from your mouth as he begins pounding up into you. he’s so fast and rough, all you could do is lay your head on his shoulder and take it.
“mngh!” you struggle to say any words and can only make noises. 
the room fills with his pelvis slapping against your ass. his thrusts are almost punishing, you don’t know if you want to scramble away or feed into it.
“gonna cum.” he whines out. his thrusts quickly become sloppy and uneven as he nears his orgasm. he grows more vocal the closer he gets. “pussy’s so fucking good. fuck, shit, ah!” he rambles as he fills your cunt with his thick cum. you can only hum tiredly at him while he fills you up.
the two of you lay still for a minute or two. choso’s breathing heavy under you, your eyes are sleepily fluttering. as you approach falling asleep, you abruptly awoken by choso giving you a soft thrust.
“one more, baby, please?”
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Love Bites
Love Bites, Chapter 6 // Love Bites {Masterlist}
Ship: Astarion Ancunin x fem!vampire spawn!elf!Tav/reader
Summary: Astarion remembers you, but it's already too late. He's bedded you and remembered the love and life you had together, two hundred years ago, and now he has to make a choice. Does he sacrifice himself, or does he sacrifice you?
Word Count: 9,455
Warnings: 18+, last night alive vibes, Astarion's memory gaps, being gentle with each other, Astarion anticipates being used but is not, vampire bite, mentions of Astarion's sexual abuse (non-con oral), therapeutic talking, reader is protective of Astarion, Astarion's bad at vocalizing his emotions, love confessions, anxiety, putting each other in danger
18+ Warnings: consensual sex, explicit smut, touching, easing into intimacy, oral (m & f receiving), masturbation (m), vaginal sex, consent & check-ins, loving sex, clit stimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, cum eating, aftercare
Note: Astarion does talk at length about the sexual abuse he's been through (not a lot of it is detailed), so please take care of yourselves as usual and don't read if you're not comfortable!
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion clung to your arm the entire walk back to your house. You leaned into him, at first surprised by the lack of body heat but seeming to enjoy his grip on you nonetheless. Instinctively, you put your arm through his and rested your head against his shoulder. He hesitantly placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and you hummed happily. 
“I’ve missed you,” you whispered to him. 
Astarion hesitated, wanting to return the sentiment but unsure if he should; he had spent the past two hundred years—or most of them, at least—not remembering you. But when you looked up at him with a soft smile, the words tumbled out, an absolute necessity to say, “I missed you, too. Even if I didn’t know it, I…I did.”
You smiled at him, soft and gentle, like you knew exactly what he was referring to, like you knew he had felt a hollow absence for all these years he hadn’t realized was there until you filled it again. 
There was a glint in your eye that Astarion was pleased to recognize. He bent just enough to let you kiss his cheek. The two of you both smiled the minute your lips touched his skin. 
You gave directions as the two of you walked, telling him when to turn and which way, until you came to a stop at a door. It was illuminated by a golden lamp, spilling over its lovely emerald green paint. The color was like a burst of life against Astarion’s eyes, vibrant against the blacks and greys of his Darkvision. 
The door did not hold the same familiarity as you did. He glanced at you as you unlooped your arms and slid a key into the lock. “Is this…where we lived?”
“No,” you said, glancing back at him. “Your parents still live in that house. Our bedroom’s untouched, though. The bed still unmade, curtains still closed… It’s as it was when you left for work that morning.”
Pain split through his heart. “My parents are still alive?” You stopped, almost shocked, and turned to him with your mouth slightly open. Before you could speak, he barreled on, “They still live in the same house?”
You glanced up at the sky, likely trying to gauge how much time you had left. You pushed the door open and gently guided him inside as you answered, “Yes. They found it too painful to leave. Your… Your mother said leaving it would feel like selling all that was left of you to a stranger.” You were quiet for a moment. You began lighting the wicks of candles, revealing a kitchen. “I still go back sometimes. To sit in our room. Every so often I sit on the roof like we used to. And, uh…your parents don’t know this, but I’ve been slowly sneaking away pieces of your clothes. It’s…comforting to have them near me, even if I’m terrified that by wearing them too long I’ll lose your scent.”
Astarion felt like he’d been struck by lightning. His family was alive. His family was alive, had been these past two hundred years, and they still loved him. “My mother…” he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes.
You paused in your lighting. “Asty? Are you alright?”
His lower lip trembled. “I… I don’t know. I didn’t know they were still… Do they miss me?”
You came over to him and wrapped your arms around him. “They miss you very much, darling. There hasn’t been a day when your mother has not spoken of you, or a day that your father has not stared at your painting.” You looked up at him. “There has not been a day where any of us do not wish to change what happened that day. To prevent you from going to work. To get you home faster. To convince you to take a different route home. Anything to keep you alive and with us.”
I’m still loved. They love me.
He bit his lower lip. “I wish I could see them again.”
“Perhaps one day you will,” you said. “Perhaps we’ll find a way out.”
Astarion smiled bitterly. “Cazador will take that optimism from you.”
You studied him for a moment, clearly wanting to argue. But instead you just gave him your hand and whispered to him, “Come with me, love.”
A nervousness filled his chest. “I don’t want to do this to you… I don’t want to lose you.”
You cupped his cheeks and pressed your forehead together. Your thumbs smoothing over his cheeks comforted him in a way he never remembered feeling before—but surely you must have done this a thousand times, with the practiced way you touched him. “You aren’t losing me. And you aren’t the one hurting me, darling. It’s your master who has done this to us both.”
Astarion shuddered. “Don’t speak of him. Not here. Not when we’re about to…” He bit his lip. “Not when I can have you again.”
You nodded and kissed his forehead. He leaned into it, some of the tension in his shoulders draining away. “I won’t.” You began walking him out of the kitchen, leading him up a set of stairs. “This way, love.”
Nervous in a way he didn’t ever remember being, Astarion followed you up the stairs. He glanced around the humble dwelling you had made your home—covered in paintings and tapestries and knickknacks that made it homey and welcoming—safe. It felt lived in, contrary to many of the homes of nobility he had found himself in time and time again. It wasn’t something he would have ever designed himself, at least not as he was now, but he liked it anyway. 
The door to your bedroom was open. It was a cozy, open room that felt familiar enough for him to pause at the threshold.
You noticed. “I may have designed it to be similar to our old bedroom. It was comforting.”
Astarion’s eyes scanned the room: a large bed in the middle, covered in soft blankets and piled with pillows, a circular rug underneath it, a mirror on the wall next to your wardrobe. Your desk was covered with paints and powders and pieces of jewelry similar to what you wore now. 
“I like it,” he said quietly. “I… We lived in a place like this?”
You nodded, sitting in the chair at your desk. He watched you take off your jewelry and take your hair down. “Our bedroom had a different color scheme and it was a little bit bigger. We had a washroom connected to it and two wardrobes—yours was bigger than mine. And we had a balcony we used to sit on late at night. But we shared a desk and I wore your clothes more often than I wore mine.” You smiled at him. “You used to tease me that if you couldn’t find one of your shirts, it was either in my wardrobe or on my body.”
You stood and closed the curtains of the two windows that let moonlight stream into the room. Darkness fell for a moment and Astarion watched your dim figure move to one side of the bed. You struck a match and an oil lamp flared to life. 
“Simpler than magic,” you explained. Then the two of you stared at each other. 
Astarion didn’t know where to start. He knew how to manipulate his victims into bed with him nearly every night. He knew what to say, how to move, when to smile, when to make the approach. But with you in front of him, suddenly all his best tricks seemed useless. 
You cocked your head to the side, noticing his hesitation. “Astarion?”
“I don’t know where to start,” he whispered. 
“Then let me?” you suggested. He nodded. 
You removed your apron and draped it over the back of the chair. You reached around behind you and loosened the strings of your corset, slipping it off after a moment. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but the movement still made Astarion’s throat tighten. Somehow, your movements—unpracticed for two hundred years—were more alluring than the nobles Cazador made him bed or the unfortunate virgins tripping over themselves to have him. 
It’s because it’s you, he knew. You weren’t just alluring—you were comforting. His body was strangely present, strangely here, as you undressed for him. 
You pulled off your skirt and left yourself in a poet shirt similar to the one Astarion himself had worn until it fell apart and then sewn back together time and time again. You glanced up at him for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. Astarion nodded eagerly, taking a step closer to you. So you pulled the shirt up over your head and stood before him.
Your undergarments were made of delicate lace. Automatically, Astarion reached out to touch them—touch you—then hesitated, looking into your eyes, suddenly afraid his instinct had been wrong.
But you only stepped forward and guided his hand to the fabric covering your chest. His touch seemed to arrest you for a moment before you stuttered out, “You gave them to me. The set was an anniversary gift. Somehow I knew when I dressed this morning I wanted this piece of you close to me.”
Warmth bloomed in the pit of his stomach—arousal, actual arousal, not the response he had forced himself to have when his victims got naked. He felt himself stir in his leathers.
Astarion let his fingers trail over the edge of the lace. Your eyes fluttered closed, your breaths coming in heaves. “Well, I…had good taste.”
You touched his chest, fingers trailing over the gold embroidery of his doublet. “You still do, darling.” You let out a heavy, pleased sigh. “Oh, gods, Astarion, please. Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” he breathed desperately, leaning into you. “Yes.”
You stood on your tiptoes; he bent down. As your lips touched, his arms looped around your waist and settled there, holding you against him. Your lips were soft, gentle, welcoming. You let him take the next step instead of forcing it. It was a kindness he wasn’t sure you knew was a kindness. 
He sucked your lower lip between his. You whined softly and then tried to pull away, clearly embarrassed by your need for him, but it brought a smile to his face. He chased your lips and brought one hand to rest between your shoulder blades, guiding you back to him. He kissed you again, softly at first, then licked your lip, asking for more. You obliged him with a slight smile of your own. 
Your tongues slid together, both of you careful of his fangs. After all these years, Astarion had gotten good at hiding them, even during a kiss—but he didn’t feel the need to hide them from you, only keep your tongue away from them.
One of your hands slid into his hair. He tensed momentarily, bracing for an unrelenting tug, but you only scratched his scalp with your nails. He relaxed against you, falling deeper into the kiss. 
When you parted, it was slow, both of you reluctant to part from each other. Your chest was heaving, your breasts straining pleasantly against the delicate lace. Astarion’s eyes dropped to the sight, mesmerized for several moments. Then he looked back up at you with a smile on your face. 
“I missed you,” you breathed. “I’ve missed that.” You toyed with his collar absentmindedly. But your eyes were fixed on his, clear and resolute, some concern clouding your blown pupils. “Are you alright?”
He nodded. “More than alright. You… You’re so gentle with me.”
“Is that what you want?” 
Quickly, he nodded again, almost desperate this time. He didn’t really want to explain the sudden tears that rushed to his eyes, but judging from the heartbreak he saw in yours, you had guessed his reasoning. 
“Then gentle we will be,” you promised. “Soft. Sweet. Slow. Like our old mornings.” Your fingers found the clasps of his doublet. “May I…?”
“You may,” he said, unbearably happy that you had asked. The feeling grew stronger as you carefully undid each clasp, rather than ripping them apart so fast and so hard that he had to fix them when the night was over. He reached up to help you undress him. 
You took the time to ask him before you removed any clothes. You took the time to admire him as skin was revealed. You took the time to kiss him when he hesitantly asked for it. You took the time to wait when you saw his uncertainty, holding him and stroking his hair. 
Is this what it feels like to be loved? 
When Astarion was left standing in only his boxers, you gently led him to the bed. You hooked your fingers into his waistband and met his eyes. Before you could even ask, he whispered, “Pull them off.”
You smiled at him and did so, your touch still light. You spared his half-hard cock only a glance as you stood back up and met his gaze. Astarion could still see the want in your eyes. But instead of doing what you wanted with him, you turned and said over your shoulder, “Would you like to take mine off?”
“Yes,” he whispered, lifting his hands to undo the clasps of your bra. He slipped the straps off your shoulders after you turned back around to him. He let himself admire your breasts as they were exposed before he dropped his hands to your hips and removed your panties in one graceful move that seemed to surprise you. 
“You were always good, but you’re better at this than I remembered,” you said by way of explanation, your cheeks turning pink. “You were always so shy when you undressed me, no matter how many times you had been inside me.”
For some reason, he felt guilty. “I’m sorry I changed.”
You shook your head, cupping his cheek. “Don’t apologize. Not for that. We’ve all changed. We would have changed whether you had died or not.” Your gaze drifted back down his body appreciatively, then to his cock. 
Skin crawling with self-consciousness, familiar from times having to improvise to explain away the struggle to get hard (especially without being able to explain how little blood he actually had in his body), but stronger now that it was you looking at the weakness that took away from the one thing he was good for, Astarion explained, truthfully for the first time, “I can’t get hard right away, not without blood and…and he starves us. Once we actually start, I can do more, but—”
You put your finger to his lips and lay on the bed. “Will it hurt?”
Astarion blinked at you. “What?”
“Your bite. Will it hurt?”
For a moment, it didn’t process what you meant. Then— “You want me to feed from you?”
You nodded. “I’m more than willing to work you up myself if you’d prefer, but…I’ll admit I’m curious. Besides…you finally have someone who knows what you are and loves you anyway. Bite me. Feed the only time you can.”
Astarion stepped closer to the bed, his hunger rearing its head. “Are you sure you want me to?”
You nodded and gestured him closer to you and, after a single moment’s deliberation that ended with the sole thought of, Fuck it!, Astarion crawled over you. You smiled up at him with a fond amazement. He grinned. “You’ve seen this view before, haven’t you?”
“Often,” you said. “I dreamt of this nearly every night. It’s almost hard to believe you’re right here… I half-suspect I’ll wake up in the morning and none of this will have happened.”
Astarion bent and began peppering your neck with soft kisses. Your blood smelled sweet, pumping through your veins with strength. “Believe me, darling, this is very, very real…”
You craned your neck, exposing the column of your throat to him. Astarion pressed his nose to your pulse point and breathed in deeply. He moaned, his whole body shuddering. You put your hand back in his hair, scratching softly. “Please…” you whispered, and all of Astarion’s restraint snapped.
He drew back enough to bare his fangs and sink them into your throat. You gasped sharply. He would have asked if you were alright if your blood did not suddenly fill his mouth, sweet and tangy and heavy all at once. He swallowed and instantly felt the difference. Bugs and rats were enough to keep him functional, surviving—this was enough to let him live. 
The next few pulls of blood had you whimpering pleasantly and warmth filling his body. Strength returned to his muscles with every mouthful and his chest began to move with the illusion of breathing. He became aware of the throbbing need in his cock and began grinding on your thigh. Your responding gasp quickly became a moan and your arms tightened around him.
Somehow, Astarion knew the exact moment that you had become equals again; he had taken half your blood and any more would kill you. In fact, any more and he would be too drunk on it to stop himself from killing you. 
Drain her. Drink her dry and go back to Cazador with enough strength to escape him.
The thought terrified him. He pulled away from you quickly, your blood dripping down his chin and onto your chest. He licked the open wounds of your neck clean of blood before he sat back and stared down at you.
You were paler than you had been when he started, but your eyes fluttered open and you reached up weakly to wipe the thin trail of blood away from the corner of his mouth. You offered him your thumb and he sucked it into his mouth without thinking, licking the blood from your skin. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing a hand through your hair.
You nodded. “A little woozy, but I’ll live.”
Astarion decided not to tell you how close you had come to not living. “What did it feel like?”
You paused, thinking. Eventually, you said, “Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It was…intimate. Magical. It was ecstasy in a form I’ve never felt before. Pain that turned into pleasure. I felt…connected with you more wholly than ever before. We always said we were one when we had sex, but that…that was being one.” You met his gaze again and breathed out one word: “Wonderful.”
Astarion couldn’t help it; he kissed you needily, pressing his entire body to yours. You responded willingly, even when the kiss turned into a tight hug that allowed him to hide his face in your shoulder so you wouldn’t see his tears. 
Eventually, you tapped his shoulder. “Sit on the edge of the bed, darling.”
A tingle of anticipation raced up Astarion’s spine—clearly his body remembered what you were going to do, even if he did not. You slid to your knees and spread his legs apart far enough to get between them. He tried to hide his shock; you wanted to pleasure him? Time and time he had been forced onto his knees and made to take a cock in his mouth, but he couldn’t remember the last time someone had done it for him… In fact, you were probably the last person to have done it, years and years ago.
“Darling, you don’t have to—”
You looked up at him. “Do you want me to?”
His chest tightened. “Yes,” he whispered.
You smiled slightly. “Then let me pleasure you, Asty.”
“Okay,” he breathed, his chest heaving with phantom breaths as he watched you lean in. You kissed the base of his cock and a quiet whine escaped him. You dragged your tongue up his length and kissed his tip before you took him into your mouth. He threw his head back, groaning. His eyes fluttered as you sucked gently, licking the underside of his cock every so often. Occasionally you popped off of him to kiss up and down his length and the sensitive area around it.
“Look at me,” you breathed. He did as you asked and you went back down on him, holding eye contact with him. He whimpered and bit his lower lip, muffling the sound. You made a face. “Let me hear you, Astarion.”
His answer was a whine as you licked a stripe along the underside of him. He brought his hand to your head and held you as you licked and kissed him. It didn’t take long for him to give into the pleasure; he began to mumble in Elvish to you until the words couldn’t roll off his tongue anymore and began coming out as moans, both low- and high-pitched. Some part of Astarion was deeply embarrassed by his sounds—but he knew now if he tried to hide them, you’d stop, and, gods above, that was the last thing he wanted. But you didn’t let up again and before he could stop himself or even warn you, he was cumming down your throat. 
And you let him. You pulled off of him only when you were sure he was spent. He flopped onto his back, panting heavily. A thrill went up his spine as he watched you swallow his spend, crawling up on his body to join him on the bed.
“That was… Hells, that was good,” he groaned as you laid next to him, getting perfectly cozy against his blood-warmed body. “How did you…?”
“You taught me,” you reminded him with a laugh. “How else did you think I knew exactly what you liked?”
“You could just have really good instincts,” he said, rolling onto his side to kiss you. He cradled you in his arms, holding you as tightly against his body as he could. You melted into his hug readily.
You pulled away for a moment and just stared at him, your eyes peering into his like you could see his soul. A little nervous, Astarion just watched you, taking in the way your eyes roamed over his face and how your lips easily came up into a happy, satisfied smile.
“What?” he whispered when the love on your face was almost too much to bear.
“Nothing,” you said. Then you shook your head. “Well, it’s not nothing. I…never thought I’d see your face again. Not really, not outside of my dreams. So I’m just… I’m glad to have you back.” You reached up and trailed your fingers across his cheekbone. He leaned into your touch. 
Slowly, Astarion began to return the favor, running his fingers across your body. He watched the way you shuddered beneath his touch, paid attention to when you giggled, noticed when your eyes fluttered shut and your body relaxed. He felt like he was learning how you ticked, but there was something about every movement you made that was almost painfully familiar. He had done this to you before, likely thousands of times, and had enjoyed squeezing your hips in his hands and groping your breasts and kissing every available inch of your skin.
“How many times?” he breathed against your sternum, pausing as he kissed down your body. You hummed and he clarified: “How many times did we do this?”
Your eyes were closed, your face the picture of contentment. “You mean the sex or the touching?”
“Touching.”
“Every night,” you answered. “Every night before we went to bed, whether we were naked or not, whether we had sex or not, we would do this. We’d cuddle and kiss and caress each other until one of us fell into trance or sleep, whatever we decided to do that night.”
“Gods,” he whispered. “I… I didn’t realize it, but I missed it. I think.”
You hesitated for a moment. Then you whispered, “I thought you did this every night.”
“Almost every night,” he corrected. “And…never like this. Never soft. Never gentle. Never…loving. It’s always rough and demanding, brutal.” He glanced at you, expecting criticism, but your face was open. There wasn’t a hint of jealousy that he slept with other people, nor anger that he was complaining about getting laid nightly when you had spent the years alone. So he continued. “I wake up sore and sometimes bleeding in places I didn’t know I could bleed from.”
You curled your arms around him protectively. “Oh, Asty… Love, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said quickly.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad for you,” you insisted. 
Disagreement coiled in Astarion’s belly, but he didn’t voice it, instead laying his head against your chest. He sighed happily when you began to scratch your fingers through his scalp. He remained like that for a few minutes before the words began to tumble out of him, slowly at first, then gaining momentum and—to his surprise—anger.
“It’s not always…random people from taverns. Sometimes he’ll…assign me victims. I’ll be sent to them. Nobles, mostly, who he wants for his thralls. Sometimes he sends them back out into the world to do his bidding, not keeping them the way he keeps me or my siblings, or draining them into dry, mummified corpses like most of the people I bring back for him. But if I don’t bring them back in the single night he gives me— Well. I’d be scarred horribly if vampires didn’t heal quickly, and even then, I don’t heal as quickly as I should so sometimes I go out the next night still wrapped in dirty cloth for bandages, bleeding through them, expected to bring home yet another meal.” 
Astarion paused long enough for you to have a quick interjection. “You have siblings?” 
“Of a sort. There are six others. Six spawn he made to do his bidding.”
“And are you all expected to…fetch your victims the same way?”
Astarion shook his head. “No. Yousen’s a gnome, for gods’ sake, who’s going to sleep with a gnome and not a handsome creature such as myself?”
You rolled your eyes. “There are plenty of people who find gnomes attractive, even if you don’t,” you chastised. 
He sighed. “But you get my point. He made his spawn from people with…different talents, so to speak, to bring in his meals. But if we fail, we all get treated the same way. Beaten. Bitten. Used. He…he does it to me more than the others. I’m his favorite to torture.”
“You mentioned that,” you murmured, touching his ear gently. His cock twitched with pleasure and he gasped. You froze. “Do you want me to stop?”
Hesitantly, he nodded. “Just— Just for a moment…please.”
Immediately, before he had even finished speaking, you removed your hand from his ear. “Alright.”
Surprise flooded his body. No one had ever listened to him before. No one had ever taken his ‘no’ to be a no. They always kept doing what hurt him, what he hated, what made his skin crawl with disgust and hate and fear. 
But you…listened. You more than listened, you stopped.
“Thank you,” he breathed. “It’s just— I…I’m not quite ready to do anything else yet. There’s so much I want to say because I’ve never been able to before and I don’t… I don’t want to ruin the moment, but…”
“But trying to push through will ruin it anyway for you,” you said, understanding him immediately. “That’s alright. Just keep talking, my love, and I will listen to everything.”
Oh, gods above, you understood him. Astarion felt the strong urge to cry until he had no tears left, all out of relief. Instead, he kept talking.
“He hosts grand, lavish parties from time to time. On those nights, we spawn are forced to pose as his…servants. It’s almost a relief to have a break, but then…then there’s the afterparties. And I’m his entertainment at the afterparties. They’re more…orgies than parties by then and I’m at the center of it all, dressed however he wants me for the night, which is sometimes nothing. He lets the partygoers use me however they wish. He orders them to, in fact. It hurts and hurts and hurts until it suddenly doesn’t because I can’t feel anything anymore.” His tears dripped onto your skin. You cooed softly, trying to comfort him, but you said nothing to stop him, so he kept going. “It’s not just the parties, either. It’s… Well, it’s like this. I’m his favorite to torture, and I’m his favorite to…to use.” 
You made a sound of both sympathy and rage. “Asty…”
Your whisper was lost in his continued tirade. “Whenever he wants, I’m there and I’m meant to do whatever he wants me to do and let him do everything he can to me. The others all know. They know I’m Cazador’s plaything and they think I get…special treatment for it. They don’t see how much it hurts, they don’t see that I suffer every night, because I don’t suffer like they do. No, no, I get to have sex! I get one of life’s simple pleasures while he beats them! So how is it fair that I complain?” Astarion looked up at you, his eyes shining with tears. “How is it fair that I complain?”
“It’s not your fault,” you said firmly. “It’s not. Darling, none of this is on you. Your master is…a leech. Yes, he’s a leech, taking what does not belong to him, forcing misery upon you. Astarion, please listen to me, honey. I mean it. This is not your fault. He is sowing dissent amongst all of you on purpose because it is the only way he can control you. If you all were to band together—”
“We’re his thralls, he can control us anyway,” Astarion snapped. “Anything he wants us to do, we do. It’s why I haven’t been able to stop him from—” He fell silent and buried his face in your chest, an unreasonable shame burrowing in his chest. He knew it was unreasonable; he knew you were at least somewhat right. He had no control over his life, and yet… The shame was there anyway. “Poetry. That’s what he said he carved into me. That’s the scar on my back.”
Automatically, your hand drifted from his hair to his shoulder. Before touching the scar you asked, “Does it hurt?”
“Sometimes. It hurt then, when he had to correct his mistakes because I couldn’t keep still enough.”
“Can I touch it?”
He nodded slowly and braced himself. But your touch was gentle and soothing. Your fingers ghosted across the raised marks and you peeked over his shoulder at it.
“It’s written in Infernal,” you murmured. “Last I checked, that’s not exactly the language of poets.”
Astarion raised his head. “Really? I…I didn’t know. What does it say?”
You shrugged. “I can recognize it, but I can’t read it.”
Astarion sighed and fell back against your chest. 
“What do you want to do?” you whispered to him.
“Hold me,” he breathed.
So you wrapped your arms around him and held him tightly to your body, his head against your chest, his own arms coming around your waist. You held each other in silence for quite a while. Your hand began to scratch his scalp and a gentle sound that was close to a purr escaped him. After a few moments, your hand went back to his ear. When he didn’t protest, you began rubbing his ear lightly.
A soft moan escaped Astarion’s lips. He looked up at you, his hips already beginning to grind into the mattress. 
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you reminded him. “You are more than just sex.”
“I want to,” he whispered, the statement true for the first time in nearly two centuries. “It’s… It’s you, of course I want to.”
You whimpered quietly at the words and pressed a tiny kiss to his forehead. “Only if you’re sure, honey.”
“I’m sure,” he promised. 
It didn’t take long for the heat in his body to rebuild. You caressed every sensitive spot on his body with care and intimate knowledge of who he was: his ears, the nape of his neck, his Adonis belt, his nipples. You touched him with a reverence that felt almost like worship and made his entire body tremble with need. You suckled on his nipples until he moaned loudly and ripped himself away from you to do the same to you. 
Very quickly you learned to give him control. He hovered above you, sucking hickies into your neck and chest, happily leaving little bites on your tits as he went.
“You can draw blood,” you whispered to him in the middle of a bite and he moaned delightedly, letting his fangs scratch your skin until you bled and licking up the crimson droplets. He met your gaze as he let his tongue linger on a deeper cut and found you looking down at him fondly, toying with one of his curls between your fingers. 
Astarion adjusted to slip a hand between your bodies. He cupped your exposed cunt and grinned at the sight of your head going back, exposing the column of your throat to him.
“I’ve barely touched you, darling,” he teased. 
“And I’ve waited two hundred years for this,” you reminded him. “Any touch is enough, but, hells, please put your fingers inside of me.”
“Needy,” he joked, but did as you asked, spreading your pussy to drag his fingers up your slit. He placed his slick fingers on your clit and began to rub gentle circles. You gasped, your body arching up into his. He chuckled and moved up to kiss you sweetly. His tongue against yours was a balm to the both of you; you calmed down enough to wrap your arms around his shoulders and he felt any lingering doubts slip away. 
You were his. You had always been his. You were not just another victim, you were the woman he loved, the woman he had been so devoted to that he was going to marry you. You were not using him like the others.
You seemed to read his thoughts and filled in the last possibility, murmuring against his soft lips, “I love you, Astarion.”
He moaned into your mouth. A single tear slipped past his closed eyelid and fell on your cheek. 
“I love you,” you whispered again. “You don’t have to say it back. I just want you to know.”
Astarion slipped two fingers into you, curling them deep inside you. You arched into him again, moaning obscenely. He giggled again; if just two fingers could make you this happy, what would you do when you felt his cock inside you again?
He pumped his fingers slowly until your hips bucked into his hand, wordlessly asking for more. He picked up the pace until you began panting. He watched you grow closer and closer to the edge, your body writhing, your eyebrows pinching together, your mouth falling open to let out delicious moans. He was almost tempted to just let you finish on his fingers, but… 
Gods, he wanted to taste you.
He pulled his fingers out of you. You whined his name, pitifully, already begging, already asking, “Why did you stop?”
Astarion’s answer was not verbal. Grinning, he dropped to his knees quickly and shuffled closer to the edge of the bed. He yanked you to the edge, letting your legs dangle over his shoulders, and leaned in. You held eye contact as he pressed a kiss to your clit. Then a second. Then a third. By the time he got to the fourth kiss and latched his lips around your sensitive nub, your eyes were rolling into the back of your head.
“Astarion,” you moaned, your hand twisting into his hair but not pulling.
He began to suck gently, letting the pressure drive you wild. He licked your clit slowly, lavishing attention on it with his tongue, feeling you grow very, very wet against his chin. He dropped a little lower to tongue at your entrance, the taste of your arousal pulling a moan from deep in his chest. You gasped at the vibration, your hips rutting against his face. He chuckled into you and slid his tongue inside you, lapping at your cunt. You were delicious in ways he hadn’t thought possible. He knew that his heightened senses meant that he could smell every bit of your arousal, every emotion inside of you, every liquid in your body—but he had not expected your lust to be infused with your love for him. 
It was a new feeling, a new taste. He liked it. 
Astarion reached up and coated his hand in your dripping arousal. Then he wrapped his hand around his cock and began stroking slowly, allowing himself to enjoy it, feeling the heady rush of blood to completely harden his cock. His hips rocked gently, the pace increasing when he glanced up at you and found you smiling as you panted, your breasts heaving. 
He released himself to bring his hand back up to your cunt. He sunk his fingers into your wet entrance and returned to sucking on your clit. You cried out, your hips bucking, and he grinned against your slick skin. 
“Cum for me,” he whispered against you, loud enough for you to hear his command. “Let me taste you. Cum on my face, darling.”
You clenched around his fingers, moaning the loudest you had all night. There was a fresh rush of wetness and the lewd sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you grew louder. Astarion slipped his fingers out of you and his tongue back into your cunt to taste you as your orgasm ripped through you. He put his thumb on your clit and started rubbing.
Astarion’s eyes fluttered shut as he tasted your cum. You were sweet, absolutely divine, your ecstasy meant entirely for him. He groaned into your pussy and your legs wrapped around his head, helping to bury him in your slick entrance. He giggled, more than happy to stay there longer and keep licking your cum out of you.
He tapped your thigh when he was done and you put your shaking legs back to the floor. He got to his feet and crawled over you, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. You moaned into his mouth, then made a sound of surprise.
“Do you taste yourself on my tongue?” he whispered, looking at you with hooded eyes.
“Yes,” you breathed.
“Good.” He kissed you again, grinding on your thigh to ease the throbbing in his cock. You groaned at the feeling, your arms tightening around his neck. You broke away from his mouth to pepper his face in tiny, loving kisses.
An overwhelming fondness filled him and he pulled away from you enough to meet your gaze. You trailed your fingertips over his cheekbone and then to his ear, rubbing gently again. He hummed happily and opened his eyes to see your face as he whispered, “I love you, too.”
You stopped, your eyes widening, your lips parting. Gods, you were beautiful. “Do you really mean—?”
“Yes,” he breathed quickly and bent down to kiss you again. You hummed into his mouth, pulling his body down onto yours. He paused in his grinding, wanting to be against you more than he wanted the friction.
“I love you,” both of you said at the same time, then burst into little giggles. You nuzzled into each other, Astarion’s cheeks hurting from the smile he couldn’t seem to drop. Then you kissed him and pulled his lower lip between your teeth. You tugged slightly.
Astarion pulled back and then glanced down your body to where his cock rested on your stomach. “Are you ready for me, darling?”
You nodded. “Yes.”
He grinned. “Spread your legs a little wider for me, sweet girl.”
You did as he asked without a second thought and he settled between your legs. He guided himself against your entrance, notching the head of his cock there. He looked up at you again and you nodded. He smiled softly, kissed you once, and then looked back down to watch himself sink into you.
Astarion moved slowly, careful not to hurt you, well aware that you hadn’t been fucked in two hundred years. You sucked in a deep breath, keeping your eyes on him as he pushed into you. Astarion let out a low groan as you squeezed around him, already a tight fit, your warmth and wetness enveloping him. When he bottomed out, you released your breath, your head falling back against the pillows. 
“Are you alright?” he whispered. 
“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, I’m alright. Gods… You feel…right. It’s…it’s almost as if it were yesterday you made love to me for the last time.”
He bent down enough to kiss your forehead. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to make love to you?”
“Please,” you whispered. 
Astarion began to move. He started with shallow thrusts, trying to allow you time to adjust and get used to the feeling, watching the pleasure on your face as he did. He held himself up with one hand and let the other slide up and down your side comfortingly.
Eventually, you turned your head to kiss his wrist. “More,” you said quietly. When he raised his eyebrow, prompting you, your already flushed cheeks turned scarlet and you amended, “Deeper.”
“Good girl,” he said and let his next thrust bring his pelvis to yours. Both of you moaned into each other. Your breaths came faster as he began to hit that spot deep inside of you over and over again, sure to never go too hard. Then you whispered, “Harder, Asty,” and all restraint left his limbs. 
Astarion lifted your leg to get a better angle and began pounding into you relentlessly, grunting with every thrust. Your moans became punctuated and he slowed down briefly to let you get some air.
Your response was to throw both legs around his hips, tug him down to you, and breathe into his ear, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop doing what you’re doing, darling.”
Astarion moaned happily and hurried back into his fast pace. You pulled him into a bruising kiss and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
“Can I touch your back?” you whispered and he nodded quickly. 
“Scratch at me all you want, sweetness,” he replied and your blush darkened.
You settled your hands on his upper back, your nails digging in just slightly as you held onto him. You crossed your ankles at the small of his back and let him drill into you.
Lips, teeth, and tongues clashed into each other as you made out messily, the sound of your spit-slicked kisses drowned out by the rhythmic smacking of your hips into each other. You felt a soreness begin to build, pleasant and familiar and distinctly Astarion.
For his part, Astarion was pleasantly surprised at how present he was. He found himself electing to keep his eyes open to see the ecstasy wash over your face when he wasn’t kissing you and he smiled at every moan, every “Oh gods” you let out, every cry of his name that left your lips. His whole body buzzed with pleasure and his cock throbbed inside of you. He nuzzled into your neck, kissing softly and nipping gently, not taking blood from you this time. He tongued over the bite he left earlier, licking the dried residue of your blood, but the wound had since closed. 
“I love you,” he murmured against your skin. “And I am so sorry that I have been gone.”
You kissed his cheek briefly. “I love you, too.”
Astarion groaned into your neck, then pushed himself back up, fucking into your pussy wildly. “You feel so godsdamn good,” he panted, grinning down at you. “I haven’t felt this way in…a very long time.”
You gently squeezed his hips with your legs and reached up to cup his face. “I’ve missed how perfect you feel,” you said. “How you always hit the right spots.” You moaned as he did exactly that, your entire body tensing, preparing for your orgasm.
“Are you close?” he asked.
“Very,” you breathed. 
He brushed your hair from your face. “Cum whenever you’re ready, darling. I want to feel you spasm around me.”
You whimpered. “Oh, Asty,” you moaned. You relaxed into the mattress. “Go a little harder and I’ll be there.”
He did as you asked, pounding into you fast and hard and just a little bit rough. He reached down to put his fingers on your clit and you let out a shriek, clenching tightly around him. He gasped, his cock twitching at the stimulation. You threw your head back, nearly screaming as you came around him, his name lost somewhere in your shrieks of pleasure. The fresh slickness of your cum surrounded him and he glanced down to find a ring of white on his cock, getting thicker and brighter by the second.
The grunts that fell from Astarion’s mouth were rougher, louder. He squeezed his eyes shut and then forced them open again.
“Darling—” he gasped, his entire body trembling with exertion as he tried to stave off his impending orgasm. “I’m— I’m gonna cum, oh gods, where do you— Where do you want it?”
There was a soft look on your face as you whispered, “Inside. Inside like the last time you ever fucked me.”
Astarion groaned, the reveal bringing tears to his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tear drop from his lashes. Your thumb came up to his face and wiped gently at his eye. He whimpered, leaning into your touch.
“Cum for me, honey,” you whispered, softly cupping his cheek.
Astarion whined and kissed your palm, burying himself to the hilt. He moaned loudly, tilting his head back, and it quickly became a series of high-pitched whimpers as ecstasy washed through his body. He trembled, holding himself up until he was spent. Then he collapsed on top of you, panting harshly.
You held him close, soothing him with quiet hushes and soft whispers of how wonderful he had done for you. You kissed the top of his head, running your hand through his curls, murmuring your love to him with a smile on your face. 
Eventually, Astarion pulled out of you. You whimpered and he whispered a soft apology. He sat back to watch his seed drip out of you. Fascinated, he gently swiped his fingers through your mixed releases. You shuddered. He held his fingers up to your mouth. You quirked an eyebrow at him at first, then opened your mouth and let him slide his fingers between your lips. Dutifully, you licked them clean.
“I guess we’ve never done that before, huh?” he joked, laying back down on you. He kissed you sweetly, enjoying the taste of you and him together on his tongue. 
You shook your head. “Nope. You only came inside me for one night.” He raised an eyebrow and you explained carefully, “I’d been tracking my cycle so I knew you could cum inside me without us getting pregnant too early. We wanted to wait until after our wedding to start trying for a baby.”
Astarion’s heart nearly broke. “We…we wanted a family.”
You nodded, smiling in a way that made Astarion feel like you knew the pain twisting in his chest at the moment. “We’d told your parents we wanted one the night before you died. They were…ecstatic. You know, I’m almost surprised they didn’t push us to move the wedding up so we could start faster.”
He laughed, more a huff than anything with how exhausted he was. “I take it they didn’t know about us taking the risk of finishing inside you?”
You grinned. “Well… We didn’t tell them, exactly, but I’m guessing they figured it out with how loud you made me scream that night.”
Astarion smirked. “Was it louder than you just were?”
“Oh, much louder,” you said, somehow teasing and serious at the same time. “I thought the entire neighborhood could hear you making me scream.”
“So I’ve always been good at sex, then?”
You shrugged. “Not…exactly. The first few times were a little…subpar in comparison to what our sex life became, the sex we just had. But because it was you, because it was so new…we still enjoyed it.”
The two of you shuffled to lay on your sides, facing each other. You snuggled against his chest and Astarion held you tightly, pressing soft, lingering kisses to every inch of your face. 
“I love you,” he murmured. “And I see why I loved you then. You are…perfect. Considerate. Gentle. You don’t…push for things I don’t want to do. You just know what I like, even after all this time… I had thought I had changed, but…”
“You did change,” you said. “But not so much that I don’t recognize the man underneath all your disguises, all your layers. You are, deep down, still my Astarion.”
He curled more tightly around you. “I like being yours.”
You kissed his nose. “I like it, too.”
The pair of you lapsed into comfortable silence. Astarion listened to your breathing and your steady heartbeat, watching your chest rise and fall against his, moving as if he was also breathing. 
You were so comfortable with him… So vulnerable. You trusted him with your exposed neck, with your bare body, with your love. Hells, how he wished he could remember what he had done to earn that trust. How he wished he could keep your trust.
Some time later, you mumbled into his skin, “It’s two hours until dawn, my love.”
Fear crept back into Astarion’s mind. “I know.”
“We should get going soon.”
He held you just a little tighter. “Not— Not quite yet, darling. Let me hold you for a few minutes more.”
You smiled knowingly against his chest and Astarion wondered how many mornings he had refused to get up, electing instead for a few more minutes in bed with you, your limbs tangled and the sheets just barely covering your lower halves. “Alright.”
Astarion pressed a grateful kiss to the top of your head. His mind began to spin with the beginnings of half-baked plans. The two of you could run, leave now and get as far away as possible. He could simply not go back, he could hide here with you until night fell again and then the two of you could leave. He could bring you back to Cazador with a plan, with a way to kill him or escape him or both in mind.
Every plan fell short. Nothing would work. Cazador had too many eyes in the city to disappear this quickly. 
We’d never escape alive. And while Astarion was certain that death—true death—would be a relief in comparison to the past two hundred years, he wasn’t willing to force that on you.
He glanced at you, still tucked into his arm, a peaceful look on your face. He tried to capture the image in his mind for a few moments, then stirred and gently slipped out from underneath you. He stood and slowly put his clothes back on.
You watched him do so, sitting up on your arms to grin at him. “Now that’s a sight that never gets old.”
Astarion frowned. “Me putting clothes back on?”
You nodded, reaching for your dress. Astarion helped you get it over your head. “It reminds me of our early mornings when you’d get ready for work and I’d watch you primp and preen until you were perfect.” You adjusted your dress, then looked up at him. “Here—let me fix your hair, I messed it up when I put my hands in it.”
Astarion watched your face, your expression twisted into concentration, your tongue poking out just slightly, as you carded your fingers through his curls and arranged them. When you were satisfied, you stepped back.
“There, good as new,” you said and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Are you ready?”
Astarion clenched his jaw. “Are you? Are you sure you want to do this? I…I really shouldn’t do this, darling, I should just take the punishment—”
“No,” you said firmly. “I will never forgive myself if I know you’re out there, getting hurt, because I wouldn’t go with you.”
“Darling—”
“Take me to him,” you insisted. “Don’t get yourself hurt for me.”
Still, Astarion bit his lip so hard he tasted his blood. “But isn’t that what we should do? I’d be protecting you—”
“I would be putting you in danger, Asty,” you insisted, cupping his cheek. “Please. Please do this and we will find a way out of this, alright? Even if it’s a last-ditch, desperate attempt to run—we’ll do something. I promise you, love.”
It won’t be enough. It will never be enough. But Astarion didn’t want to dash your hopes; naive as it was, it was relieving to see hope after two hundred years without it. It almost convinced him that you would be the lucky soul to escape Cazador’s bite, his eternal punishment. 
Astarion offered you his hand. “Are you ready, darling?”
You nodded, slipping your hand into his. “Ready.”
Before you left, you extinguished the lamps like normal and locked your door behind you like it was any other outing. You slipped the key into a hidden pocket in your dress Astarion hadn’t realized was even there. He admired the stitchwork as you walked hand-in-hand down the street. Despite the anxiety wriggling away in his stomach, Astarion let himself enjoy the feeling of walking with you, touching you, enjoying the last few moments of the night air with you. 
The Szarr residence loomed ahead far too quickly, the palace towers casting a horrible shadow across the road leading up to it. Astarion glanced at you as the pair of you passed into the shadows.
“Last chance to back out, darling,” he said quietly. “I can always circle back to an alleyway and drag some poor soul out—”
“No, Asty,” you said gently. “If that was a real option, you would have already done it.”
He sighed and nodded. “Alright. But—darling?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry for what might happen in there, what he’ll do to you.”
You smiled at him. “You don’t have to be sorry, honey, it’s not your fault. Nothing he does to me is your fault.”
“I brought you here,” he insisted. “I brought you here knowing what you’ll have to go through. I could just take the beating, but… I don’t want to, so I’m letting you suffer like I should.”
For the first time, Astarion saw a glimmer of doubt in your eyes. Your steps faltered and he felt the shudder that passed through your body. You licked your dry lips.
“What’s he going to do?”
A painful first bite. Drink you dry. Bury you. Make you dig your way out of your coffin. Trap you in chains the minute you’re free of the dirt. Whip you until you bleed and then lick your wounds. Astarion’s experience flashed through his head. But the fear on your face… He couldn’t tell you any of that, could he?
“Terrible things,” Astarion said gravely. It came out far darker than he intended and he knew what a terrifying sight he was: weak light in his hair, his red eyes glowing in the shadows, his fangs flashing in the dark with every word. You shrank away from him, stopping in your tracks, and inched out of the shadows. 
“Astarion, I—”
Fear gripped his undead heart, tainted his vision, thrummed in his veins. Astarion hissed and lunged, grabbing your arm with a vice-like grip. “Come on,” he insisted, just slightly aware of the growl in his voice. You resisted for just a moment, but Astarion was stronger than you were; it only took a tug to pull you back into the shadow of the tower. 
Servants of Cazador’s opened the doors for Astarion when they recognized him. They couldn’t hide their shock that he was dragging a victim in, his facade of the perfect lover dropped, and something clicked inside him.
It’s not Cazador who scares her; it’s me.
Astarion nearly let go of you. Then he felt the eyes of his siblings boring into him, all six waiting in a clustered group, and he knew Cazador was near. There was no escape for you now.
Astarion tightened his grip on you and dragged you into the palace’s shadows. He watched your feet cross the threshold, damning you eternally. The door slammed shut.
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin
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havoc-7 · 2 days
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The more that I think about the early episodes of TBB S3, the funnier they get to me. Like
First we have Crosshair, who is really getting to know Omega for the first time. His only real interactions with her in the past have involved his brothers being EXTRA protective of her, so in his head Omega is probably just this poor, scared, naive little kid. And then one day she just pulls up to his prison cell and is like “what’s up, loser, we’re getting out of here” and then proceeds to sneak him out of a high security government lab under the nose of the emperor himself (she knows our battle plans?? Of course she knows all of our battle plans, that’s a normal thing to teach a 12 year old…) Not to mention the fact that Omega gambled in a bar and won more credits than either of them had probably ever seen in their lives, so that they could bribe the space TSA into getting them off world (WHY does the kid know how to gamble). Not that Crosshair is in any position to judge someone’s parenting, but he has QUESTIONS.
Omega, meanwhile, is for the first time getting the full Crosshair Experience, complete with every bit of sarcasm, snark, and sass that the man has been bottling up on Tantiss, and she is not having it. No, Crosshair, I don’t really know how to fly this shuttle, why don’t you quit your backseat flying and get your butt up here and do this yourself? No, Crosshair, we cannot open fire on civilians in an airport, I thought that was just an inhibitor chip thing for you. No, Crosshair, we are NOT LEAVING OUR MAN-EATING HOUND ALONE AND UNSUPERVISED ON A RESIDENTIAL PLANET.
And then you have Hunter, who hasn’t been thinking clearly for five months and who probably is living off a diet of spiked lemonade and sour patch kids (to match the bitterness inside him), who went from thinking “oh yeah we’re gonna settle down on Space Greece” to “Wrecker, that one crime syndicate called us back, if we murder this one guy for them then they MIGHT give us some info on Omega, wheels up in 10”
And poor Wrecker finds himself as The Responsible Adult for the first time in his life, which is incredibly confusing and a little bit scary and Hunter, you are TOO CLOSE to the edge of that cliff!! He’s never really believed in vegetables before but Echo says they’re good for you so he spends every moment that he’s not trying to keep Hunter from starting a second interplanetary war over the disappearance of his kid attempting to convince Hunter to try an apple or something.
And then it all culminates in this very tense, dramatic moment where they’re all staring at each other and Omega is like “yay now we can all get therapy!” and Wrecker is like “Echo come back I can’t do this on my own anymore” and Hunter is like “you can’t commit fratricide in front of the kid, you can’t commit fratricide in front of the kid” and Crosshair is like “TAKE YOUR SCARY CHILD BACK” and if that’s not peak Bad Batch then I don’t know what is
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nicromancytarot · 20 hours
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DESCRIBING YOUR SOUL TRIBE
This is a general channelling based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake these.
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides what your soul tribe is like, pick a picture and find out what they had to say!
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Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3
PILE 1
You guys are girls girls lmao, even if you do not necessarily identify as a girl, your connection is so deeply rooted in the comfortability, and trust you have for one another. These are the people you will always feel good around when telling them your most vulnerable stories and moments of your life, these are the people who will make you feel heard and seen in more than one way.
Pink can be significant, maybe the things they say make your cheeks blush, or perhaps there is a level of nostalgia in this group. You may already have these friends, or they could even be from your childhood, people who you were friends with in your early childhood, but drifted away from in your later years, perhaps due to parting ways, attending different schools, meeting new people. Even if these people aren’t directly from your past, you will feel as though they were. Sometimes you could even have a situation of “wait, were you there when this happened?” Or “omg, do you remember this?” and it’s years before you guys even met lol.
You’ll feel very much like these people are meant for your life. They may even help with healing childhood trauma, helping you grow into a better person, and I think mainly for your pile, they will help you open up about the stuff that you don’t like talking about.
I feel like you guys share an interest in something or someone, like maybe the majority of your types are the same, or you’re all obsessed over this one celebrity who’s like thirty years your senior. Some of you may even meet this group of people at a concert, perhaps you go alone and then make friends while you’re there.
Names: Sinclair, So/unny, Charlotte, Olive/r/ia, Dalton, Ghost, Gabriella/Gabriel, Florence, Danni/y, Alex/a/is.
PILE 2 18+
Firstly, I can see a common interest between you all, this could be due to the place you meet, or the shared environment you’re in, perhaps even just something that you access through social media. Some of you may find that you meet these people when you’re in trouble for something, like detention at school, or being rushed into your boss’ office for doing something you weren’t supposed to do. There may be couples within this friendship, however the couples might try and be discreet with this, making out when the others are doing something else, sneaking suggestive glances from across the room; it’s forbidden, but all so tempting. You may find that you are the one in a relationship with this, and a number of you could meet your future spouse, or at least a very important partner while in this friendship.
18+ You guys might lowkey switch partners every now and then for some freaky time, like they get with your partner, and you get with theirs while all in the same room. Also friendly foursomes could be a thing for you even if you’re not dating. Perhaps a make out sesh with one or a few of your friends.
You guys are incredibly intelligent, I’m fr getting women in STEM, so you could be doing something like that, you could meet during an important conversation you have with someone. Maybe even a science fair, your friendship revolves a lot around intellectual abilities.
People may look at the group, or you look at it and think that you make no sense together, like some of you come off super cool and extroverted, meanwhile others keep to themself, and appear introverted. However, all while their are many differences, you guys are super alike.
Names: Otis, Shelby, Shiela, Shaun, Andy/rew, Xander, Poppy, Elizabeth, Daniel/Danielle/Daniella, Bea/trice.
PILE 3
You guys are the group who pretend they party, like you and your fated friends go out of your way to make out to the rest of your audience, followers, people that you know, showing them that you can have a good time. This could be an inside joke for you guys. You’re very social media based, you could post them a lot on social media, and they do the same to you. People on the outside will look at this friendship and beg that they one day manage to meet people just like you have.
I did get the word “pot,” so either you guys are flourishing like a flower, or you’re doing pot in your bedrooms discreetly. These friends could be the only ones you feel comfortable enough around to do drugs, or alcohol, as you may worry about how you could act out, and who would be there to support you during a time where you cannot support yourself.
Physically in looks, you guys compliment each other so well, you could have a friend of each hair colour, you could all check out what each person is wearing before you go out, just to ensure that you all look good as a group.
You let them into your sacred spaces, and they let you into theirs. Your friendship, and strength thereof is so prominent, you could say a single word in a fit of rage, and the others would immediately know what to do to deal with, or deescalate the situation. They know you like a book, they analyse all you say; word and vowel.
Some of you, if not all could have some type of matching device, jewellery, something in which you share in common. This could be pictures of you all in a photobooth stuck in the back of your phone case, or a friendship bracelet you all wear, a favourite song that you share, or maybe even a shared and interactive playlist that you all love.
Names: Lola, Tina, James, Shauna/Shona, Timothy, Bianca, Celius/Cecelia, Honey, Finley/Finlay, Kyra/Kira/Kiera/Keira.
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