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#and this fic lives in my mind rent free
blackhillverse · 9 months
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do i want to reread the perfect girlfriend for the umpteenth time for the fake dating blackhill au or.
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rrogueamendiares · 10 months
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i just wanted to hold you in my arms
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bolithesenate · 5 months
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i just really love designing togruta montrals
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and thinking about how the patterns change as they grow
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they are very shapes
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I go bazoonkers whenever I see his neck and collarbones 🛐🛐🛐
His neck looks so kissable and biteable
(RAWRARAWRWAAAHHHAJQBAJNDJQNARAWR)
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Chest, jaw, hands and lips too.
If he needs a dog...I can moo 🍞
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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year
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Eddie Munson does do the whole rock star thing, but it doesn't quite go the way it did in the daydreams of a sixteen-year-old kid trying to stay awake in school.
He leaves Hawkins after the world doesn't end, gets himself out there, takes all the hurt and fear and fucked up shit and puts it into a handful of good enough songs to get himself signed.
It's not quite the genre he grew up with, not quite something any of his idols might have played, but only because it is so entirely Eddie, so influenced by where he's been and what he's seen that it kind of doesn't fit one specific influence.
It's new and it's good, is the point. Really good. And he skyrockets fast enough to give himself the spins.
He's recognizable and then he's famous and then he's too famous and too young to know what to do with it and too far from home and everyone he loves to really cope with it and it's just.
Eddie isn't built for it. Eddie hasn't even processed the fact that he was maybe supposed to die in that place, or the fact that he did watch people better than him actually die, but he's out here shooting to the top of the charts and being called the next big thing and it's too much.
It's just enough, at the end of it all, for him to self-sabotage his way out of being more than a one-hit wonder.
One big hit, a contract broken by the guys at the top with the fancy lawyers because Eddie has become the too much thing, just like always, and it's over as quick as it started.
He disappears, becomes one of those whatever happened to him? he was supposed to be the next big thing? stories that travel by word of mouth and then fade with the shift in conversation.
So what does happen to Eddie Munson?
He falls hard, he hits rock bottom, he crawls his way home to an uncle who deserved for Eddie to really make it, make him proud, have him financially set for life and get him into a real house with two stories and a garage to park the truck in, maybe even a yard for a dog.
He spirals and isolates and falls apart and stops letting himself make music at all and makes some personal choices that will probably have lasting effects on him for the rest of his life and then somewhere along the line a girl with hair like tangerines and terrible aim manages to smack him with her cane and says if I learned to walk again, so can you, asshole.
There are people in his life again after that, a reason to get out of bed and realize that he can make Wayne proud in more ways than the one he'd already fucked straight to hell.
Eddie watches a bunch of kids graduate high school and then he packs up and chases down some people who pulled him out of hell once before up in Chicago, crashes on Steve and Robin's couch until he gets himself a job painting houses and they can afford three bedrooms instead of just the two.
He cuts his hair, not short but shorter, and he gets more tattoos and itches for the guitar that sits in a case under his bed, ignores it. Itches for the pen in his hand, ignores that too.
He's still barely past his mid-20s and he still has some fucking around left to get out of his system, some finding out to accomplish doubly so, but he learns as he goes no matter whether it's forwards or backwards.
He falls in love and falls out of it, gets fired from jobs and tracks down new ones, gets into fights with his friends because they're all a little fucked up and codependent and weird but makes up with them for the same reasons.
The thing with Steve happens slowly, going from tolerating each other for the sake of knowing they'll always be on the same team to genuinely liking each other to discovering a care between the two of them that's a bit too strong to be normal about even if it still takes them a half-dozen so-called turning points to really name it and take it and keep it.
Eddie's 33 when they buy a condo together on the outskirts of Chicago two weeks after they fall into bed with each other for the first time, and he's over a decade on from being a kid who rose to the top too fast but it doesn't feel dissimilar, that sensation of a too-good thing that's bound to go wrong.
Only this time he doesn't try to sabotage it, tries the opposite, tries to hold it tightly in ways that would probably be too tight for anyone other than Steve Harrington with all his deeply intense feelings and inability to love at anything other than an eleven.
It's in the move that Steve finds a box of notebooks, snoops because it's who he is, and finds years worth of words that never made it past the tip of a pen but did, eventually, make it that far.
And it's not an easy thing, convincing Eddie that they're words worth sharing, because Eddie doesn't want it to be an easy thing. He can't let kind words shoved into his orbit by a beautiful man be enough to make it feel worth it, can't see a world where sharing his art doesn't end in another great big self-induced mess that he can't let happen when he's finally found something good.
He doesn't want to go on tour and get screamed at on stage and, besides, he's pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't want to scream for him anymore either, but then Steve has to go and remind him--
"You don't have to be the face of it. You can just be the words; you are so fucking good at being the words, Ed."
Which still isn't quite enough to be convincing, but it's a start in a solid six months of the words coming easier now that he has someone to share them with, someone to listen as Eddie plucks away at a guitar that sits out in the open now, free of dust.
It stops feeling like something shameful to hide, his music, and the thing is? It doesn't feel how it did back then either.
It's not an escape or a purge of violent energy or a distraction from everything he didn't know how to think about. Sure, it takes all of that into consideration because it takes the whole of Eddie into consideration, but more than anything it's just fun.
Like he's thirteen and still learning how to play the guitar, like it's just a hobby that never has to go anywhere, like it's just art that maybe deserves to be heard.
Everyone pitches in on ideas when they find out he's trying to come up with a pseudonym, and it's goofy and supportive and kind of the final straw in reaching out to old, burned bridges to see about any new artists looking for equally new tunes.
The first time Eddie and Steve catch familiar lyrics being sung by a new hotshot band on the radio, Eddie cries not because he's jealous or disappointed, but because it feels right.
He doesn't like being up in front of the crowds, had only ever walked across tables and made himself big and scary and loud out of self preservation, would always rather his biggest performances be for the people he knows really care.. Besides, after everything he's survived he's learned, albeit slowly, that he really likes the freedom of the quiet.
This way he still gets to say what he has to say, gets to throw his hat into the ring of an artform that he loves without selling his soul to a machine that tried to eat him alive (trust him. he knows what that feels like.)
Of course, someone is going to put 2 and 2 together eventually, the industry isn't as big as it looks and pseudonyms only pull so much weight when you went out in such a spectacularly messy and memorable fashion, but Eddie's got his condo in Chicago.
He's got the guy he shares it with in his bed.
He's got two cats and a windowsill full of plants he's going to keep alive this time, Steve, just you watch.
He's got his uncle settled in Indy these days, a small place with a small yard.
He's got music, too. Turns out even his own tendency to self-destruct couldn't take that away, huh?
It's what got him out of hell alive, after all.
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videogamelover99 · 2 months
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Bill Cipher angst at 2AM??? Also plz read Flat Dreams
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slutforsilverfoxes · 8 months
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It's a bird! It's a plane! It's another intentionally suggestive Hotch x gn!reader scene!
__________
“Oh my god,” Aaron groans, voice muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into. “Don’t stop, baby, please.”
You bend at the waist to kiss the spot just behind his ear and murmur, “Yeah? Feels good?”
“That feels fucking incredible,” he affirms with another groan that reverberates through your body from the point where your hips meet. “What are you even doing back there?”
With a giggle, you mold your hands down his muscular back and explain, “It’s called petrissage, love. Part of my spa day was learning how to give a proper massage.”
“Emily got you that gift certificate for your birthday, right?”
“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers now trailing along the taut cords of muscle that make up his shoulders, the tension practically melting away beneath your touch.
“Remind me to give her a raise.”
__________
AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch
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sic-vita · 2 years
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The Sandman | favourite transitions
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loguetowns · 1 year
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meet cute
luffy x reader, law x reader, kid x reader
a trilogy of short fics ft. the captain trio
what happens when a pirate takes the last pastry?
0.9k words
a/n: this bakery that i go to is always sold out by the time i go in the afternoon, so i went at 7am and finally got more than just leftovers and it was sooo worth it
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when monkey d. luffy meets you, he doesn't even see you at first because you're hidden behind the mountain of baked goods on his tray. sure, maybe he overdid it but they all looked too good to stop at one. and if anyone asks, he plans on having them all himself.
unless there's a good reason to, luffy doesn't share.
you start packing his order, the mountain slowly shrinking with each bun, as you sneak glances at the guy in the straw hat on the other side of the counter. he's cute and friendly, and you think this is the shortest amount of time it took for you to crush on a guy.
making small talk, you ask him about his day ("it's great now! there's so many options here!") and he asks you about your favourite pastry.
"oh, it's this one!" you point at the last bread on his tray, "but it's always sold out by the time i'm on lunch."
to which luffy frowns, thinking about how unfair it is that someone as nice and cute as you doesn't get to enjoy their favourite treat.
you take his coins, blushing when your fingers brush his, and thank him for coming by, wondering when you'll see him next.
it turns out that the answer is very soon.
because 10 minutes later, luffy comes flying into the shop, landing right next to you with a little laugh and your favourite pastry in his hand,
"here," he grins. "for you."
luffy doesn't mind sharing if it's for a good reason — and your wonderfully surprised smile is a pretty damn good reason.
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trafalgar law thinks to himself that if it wasn't bepo's birthday, he would've left the bakery ages ago. but now he stands here, surrounded by nothing but bread, and he realizes that unless he wants to skip lunch, he's gonna have to find something to eat.
what shitty luck.
he eyes the last tuna bun and grabs it, thinking about how this'll have to do, when someone knocks into his arm and the bun goes flying out of his hands.
he whirls around, ready to unleash his hangry fury, but his complaints die on his tongue when he discovers who bumped into him — a pretty, adorable thing.
"oh my god! i'm so sorry!" you yelp. "oh no, there's none left..."
you fuss over the empty display, but law's already forgotten about his fallen bun. you're far too cute, with a faint tinge of pink in your cheeks, for him to care about a pastry he wasn't going to enjoy.
"wait!" you rummage through your bag. "it's not a tuna bun but it's close?"
you offer him an onigiri, one with bits of grilled fish, and law can hardly believe that he's staring at his salvation.
his handsome face breaks into a wide smile and you can't help but do the same. your eyes are warm, a soft smile dancing on your lips, and there's a sugary sweet feeling in law's chest when you hand him the rice ball.
what wondrous luck.
he takes his favourite food from your hands and thinks that maybe — just maybe — bakeries aren't so bad.
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the only thing eustass kid is thinking about right now is how much he's going to enjoy eating this chocolate danish. he reaches into the display to grab the last one, but instead of a flaky pastry, his fingers find a soft hand.
"excuse me," you say. "i'm just trying to reach the danish."
kid gives you the onceover (pretty, he thinks). "ya should be excused. that's my danish."
you narrow your eyes at the boldness of this rude (albeit, hot) stranger. "says who?"
"says me."
"and who are you exactly?"
kid puffs his chest, "eustass kid."
you scrunch your nose and cross your arms, "you mean the boorish pirate who raided that south blue island?"
"i- boorish?" kid gapes incredulously.
"did i stutter?" you scoff. "you pirates are awful. the more good looking you are, the ruder you are."
you blush slightly at the admission, but kid's too riled up to even notice (though later, he'll remember it and grin).
"do you insult everyone that you meet?" he grits.
"i don't know, do you steal food from everyone that you meet?"
"listen," kid leans over you, catching a whiff of your shampoo (which just so happens to be his favourite scent). "i already said that the danish is mine."
unwilling to be intimidated, you jab a finger in his (extremely muscular) chest. "you damned pirates always take what you want - absolutely zero consideration for the rest of us."
"you're no angel either, sweetheart. generalizations don't look good on anyone — not even cute hotties like you."
your cheeks flush hot, "you-!"
"me, what? look who's stuttering now, huh?" he goads, getting even closer to your face now.
"you really-"
"mommy, look! i got the last one!"
both of you snap out of it just in time to see a little girl grab the pastry you were fighting over. dumbfounded, you look at kid and just when you're about to curse him out, he cuts you off.
"well, looks like neither of us get what we wanted," he says.
then, kid turns back towards you with a devilishly handsome grin, "but now i kinda want you, so how about i buy ya dinner instead?"
(spoiler: you say yes.)
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amerain · 10 months
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in my next life
for @tododekuweek, day 7: fantasy, soulmates
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petit-etoile · 6 months
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hi! :) i love your writing!! Could i request an Astarion fic based on the Mahmoud Darwish Quote “they asked ‘do you love her to death’ / i said ‘speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life.’”?
it's  our  last  chance  ( we'll  get  it  right  )
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pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 2,902 content warnings: canonical discussions of death, spoilers for astarion's act iii romance, spiritual interlude to this fic, references to cann.ibalism as a metaphor for love, an exploration of how s.ex can be healing, the faintest hints of a mortal!tav but that's up to the reader, what if s.ex cures vampirism ? other tags:  canon compliant,  character study,  introspection,  codependency,  religious imagery & symbolism,  p.orn with plot archiveofourown: here.
tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia,  @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene be added to the taglist here
summary:  ‘Gale asked me tonight if I loved you,’ Astarion tells you. ‘He asked if I loved you purely. I’ve never loved anything purely in my life, but I knew what he meant. He asked, ‘Will you love them to death?’ That’s why I brought you here tonight.’
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This is a night reminiscent of the day he died.
The sun has faded out over the horizon. The streets are bloodied once more, and hundreds of shadows have transformed into the shape of a bat.
Astarion’s grave is very old and covered with moss. You watch as he kneels in front of it and brushes his fingers across his name in reverence. You join him and cross your fingers together in prayer. You don’t know what you’re praying for but you mumble the words under your breath. It isn’t until you start digging that you begin to understand why you’re really here. You dig and dig and find relics of a life you never knew  —  dead flowers and childhood toys, tears that you cry. A mother and father’s love.
Astarion looks so much younger now that Cazador no longer hangs over his very being. The tension around his eyes has lessened, and even though he’s feeling something you can’t imagine, he wears the smallest smile as you uncover the gifts left behind by his family. Proof that Astarion lived, proof that Astarion existed. You dig until your fingers reach nothing and then you turn to him. He means to plant a seed and watch it grow.
He hands you seeds from a flower you can’t remember the name of. You pour them into the depths of this grave and fill it back up with dirt. You drop handfuls and wait for it to rain. You turn your chin up to the sky and wait for the storm clouds to release rapture.
‘I love you,’ Astarion says suddenly.
He looks at you like a man learning to see for the first time. The softness of his features only intensifies the longer he looks at you. Astarion is always made up of hard angles and harsh lines but tonight, he looks upon you with an earnestness you haven’t seen for him in quite some time. You’re caught off-guard when he caresses your cheek.
If Baldur’s Gate were to weather a storm tonight, Astarion would be the warmth from the cold of the rainstorm. You close your eyes at his touch and lean your cheek into it, nuzzling his palm. Astarion decides that it isn’t enough. He’s selfish, manipulative, roguish and cruel, but when he leans forward and kisses you with his plump mouth, you forget about all those things. It’s healing. You open your lips for him.
‘I love this,’ he murmurs, snaking a hand down to the small of your back. ‘And I want it all.’
The storm breaks overhead, but Astarion covers your body with his and you forget that you hate the sound of thunder. He kisses the very soul of you, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. There’s something about the way he nips at your skin that infinitely thrills you. How could a man so determined to be dangerous, so keen on becoming the most powerful man in the world melt at the sound of your voice? Had Astarion always been this weak for you, or was this a new transgression in his never ending quest to crush his desires?
Astarion kisses you.
He is the only thing that quenches your thirst.
He knows that.
When you first fell from the illithid ship, you had felt a hunger unlike any other swell up in your gut. It was freedom you had never experienced, and somehow, you came out on top. What happened after that was only like the romances you had read about. When a beast hunter falls in love with their bounty, when a mortal loves their immortal despite the difference, when an angry vampire becomes softer and softer the more he learns about kinder touch. You’re a romantic, after all.
You think that you should talk about it. You want to ask Astarion if he’s sure. But of course he’s sure, he’s never been surer of anything. Asking him now would be a disservice, you think. He’s worked so hard to come this far. You don’t ask. You kiss Astarion back like you’ve never kissed anyone before.
His mouth is yearning. Astarion pines for you like a prince pines for a sweetheart  —  and his mouth and his tongue and his teeth are so overwhelming that you can’t help but cling to his shoulders, using him as a lifeline.
He turns his cheek against yours and sighs wistfully against your skin. Slowly, carefully, Astarion presses his fingers between your legs curiously. He does it just to hear you gasp. You meet his eyes, and your cheeks burn so hotly you think you might be dizzy. Astarion consumes your soul. He presses you down in the flowers you planted above his grave. Clover, daisies, and asters grow around, twirling in your hair as Astarion collapses into your arms. You hold him as he shakes.
‘I was dead before I met you,’ Astarion whispers in the crook of your neck. ‘I was a ghost.’
‘You’re alive now,’ you promise. He cradles your soul in his hands. ‘You’re alive now and you’re the sun, and I love you.’
Maybe it’s not that you aren’t sure Astarion is ready. You’re nervous about the setting. It’s not that it’s inappropriate or dire, but that anyone could see at any time and you were a selfish creature. For so long, it has always been you and Astarion and everyone else. Now, Astarion presses into the space between your hips and mouths at your chest. He tastes your skin and your nipples, and you shiver at the touch. He eats your heart. You’re grateful.
‘I’m not convinced,’ Astarion says roughly. ‘Should I die, where will I go?’
‘You will go where I go,’ you say as he sinks into your flesh. ‘You are half my soul. I’ll beg the gods. We can never be one without the other.’
‘And if they deny you?’
‘I’ve already killed gods,’ you say. ‘What are a few more if they deny me my love?’
Astarion lets out a satisfied hum, content with the fruit you have given him. He ripens you with his fingers and you turn your head. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and allow him to caress your sides, closing your eyes as he touches the more ticklish parts of your body. He nibbles at your collarbones
You say, ‘This isn’t your grave.’
Astarion’s mouth ghosts over your skin, and finally, he sinks his cock into you until you’re gasping for air. It pushes and fills and causes lights to dance in the corner of your eyes. You touch the little hairs at the nape of his neck to distract yourself.
‘You’re right,’ Astarion says softly.
‘A place of rebirth.’
‘A place of happiness, my love,’ he says. ‘Now when I see it  —  ’
‘More,’ you whisper.
You feel a rush of tenderness sweeping through your veins. You are drawn to it like a moth to light, and you chase Astarion as he flees from you, sliding your hips back against his so that he’s never gone for too long. You waited patiently for Astarion. Every touch, every kiss is a feeling so rare that you can’t help but savor it. You admire the vulnerability he shows you, and when he leans back to lift your hips higher for a better angle, you moan softly and cry.
Astarion’s fingers burn holes into your skin. He leaves a wildfire against your skin. It leaves you wanting more. But you’re always going to want more, aren’t you? Even a lifetime of Astarion is not enough. You seek the warmth in his gaze.
You aren’t sure how long you’ll last. The time between your trysts and the sheer passion causes you to be needy. He likes it that way too. Likes the way that you’ll always seek him out first. The first in your heart. The first in your soul. You wish you could pour yours out of your body to give it to him. He’s half your soul regardless of what he might say. You never understood the concept of an immortal soul until now. You pull Astarion back to you and kiss him, teeth to teeth.
But it’s not enough.
You don’t think it will ever be enough. You dig your nails into his spine and hold onto him. You cry weakly. It feels too good and like it’s too much at the same time. You part your legs wider and drag him further, hypnotized by the feel of his thighs beneath yours. Astarion shows an enthusiasm you haven’t seen in a while, and you’re reminded of how much you’ve craved him. The knife at your throat, the scowl on his face, the night at the party… Astarion is all-consuming. You never thought it would happen.
At first, you thought Astarion was primed to ignore you forever. You were kind and good and sweet, and now you knew that was everything Astarion was looking for. He tastes your kindness and goodness and sweetness and becomes drunk on the taste of your shared fate.
Astarion bites you on the shoulder but for once, it isn’t to draw blood and feed upon what makes you who you are. It’s a lover’s bite. An inquisitive nibble. That part of sharing is what this is about. He meant it when he said you were more than blood, more than a fling. You always thought about it…
Astarion proving his love to you now was welcomed. You summon a new life for him here during this pale evening. A life where he will not know hurt. A life where he will not be betrayed by those he trusted. Astarion was in your hands now, a crow on your wrist. He sings you a pretty song against your neck. He’s vocal now, content with moaning and mewling as he takes his pleasure in the warmth of your body. You wish you could bottle up his pretty song and take it with you forever.
You press your mouth to the sharp curve of Astarion’s ear, sneaking a kiss against the pointy tip. ‘Come closer to me, my love,’ you whisper. ‘No one must know.’
‘Everyone must know,’ Astarion disagrees softly.
‘Even the birds?’ you ask. ‘Even the trees?’
Astarion smiles. You can feel it. ‘The entire world must.’
‘Are we in love?’ you ask him softly, looking upon him fondly.
‘We are,’ he says, laughing.
You are in love like you have never been in love before. Astarion is a romantic and he cherishes this new world with you. He’s intoxicated by the freedom of your scent. And it’s not as though it’s any different for you. You wrap your legs tightly around his hips and keep him there, and when his arms shake and tremble, you accept his weight.
You kiss his throat and he raises his chin so you can kiss it more. You’ll pretend that it doesn’t entice you. You want to sink your teeth in like he has, to share with him that quiet exaltation. Astarion gives it to you more and more, and finally, you can no longer tame that part of you set to rupture. Your pleasure causes your vision to burn almost.
There is a world where you and Astarion have never met. A world where the mindflayers never devised a plan and you were still searching for enlightenment. The thought of it scares you so you cling to him and you climb into his sternum, holding onto his skin while the world is remade in your image. A world without Astarion is not a world worth living. You know that to be true. That’s why you’re here now.
Astarion follows suit in quick, frantic strokes. He loses himself in the quake of your core and digs his fingers into the dirt next to your head for stability. You watch as pleasure overtakes him and he wavers, choking on a ragged moan. You press unfocused kisses against his shoulders and sink beneath the earth.
It’s a good thing Astarion finds his confidence in the taste of your bones. He eats from you an essence that would make him strong. When he sits up, eyes soft around the edges and mouth swollen from your love, you can see the change in him. Have his shoulders always been that wide? Has his back always been that straight? Has the majesticness of his attitude always been so grandiose?
Astarion holds out his fingers and you kiss the tips of them. You give him a blessing and watch as his skin begins to glow. Cazador had unmade a proud man. You have rehabilitated a broken man.  But Astarion is not defined by his brokenness, not authenticated by his terrors and trauma, but by the whims he has shown you tonight.
When Astarion pulls you from the bed you made in the grass, you can see a dim light filtering through the overhead tree. A familiar sight, like the first time. You pull his jacket over your head to avoid any more mess and become acutely aware that Astarion is watching you breathe. He listens with that frightening vampiric hearing as your lungs exhale. He smiles as your heartbeat settles.
You distract yourself as he enjoys his orgasm by making him a crown of flowers. You twist them expertly like you once did in your youth, and when Astarion turns his head, you give him a kingdom. The fresh green of the leaves accentuates the paleness of his hair.
You know what you’ve done even if the world does not. It was an objectively stupid thing to do, Astarion said so himself. Life is a challenge, and you were not a quitter. If anything, you knew that you deserved it. A ghost called your name and you answered, unfrightened by the specter’s cold touch. Slowly, you replaced that frigid air with your own heat until there was nothing but fog in the aftermath.
‘Sometimes,’ Astarion begins when he’s ready, ‘I still have these cruel thoughts. This fear still consumes me but… It’s so unlike before I hardly recognize it.’
‘You’re not his first son anymore,’ you say.
Astarion smiles and slides the crown from his head. He twirls it between his fingers. ‘Not  —  Not that fear, no. Something else.’
‘What else could frighten you?’
‘Everything,’ Astarion confesses. ‘I listen to your heart when you sleep for any change. I check your face every day for any extra wrinkles.’
You laugh. ‘I’m still young,’ you insist. ‘We have time, Astarion. I am with you every moonrise.’
‘The worst thing about loving you is that I will never stop,’ Astarion says, staring at his headstone. ‘I don’t want you to die in a world where I could still love you.’
You think you’re going to be sick. You don’t mean to cry, but you do. You burrow your face in your hands and weep so hard Astarion wraps his jacket around you and kisses your head, shushing you until you’ve let it all out. It’s…not how you wanted to end the evening.
‘You didn’t let me finish, my love,’ he murmurs against your forehead.
‘Then go on,’ you say miserably.
‘I will never stop loving you,’ Astarion says again. ‘For a thousand more years and one.’
You twist the knuckle on your middle finger anxiously. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what to feel.
‘Gale asked me tonight if I loved you,’ he tells you. ‘He asked if I loved you purely. I’ve never loved anything purely in my life, but I knew what he meant. He asked, ‘Will you love them to death?’ That’s why I brought you here tonight.’
You look at him suspiciously, and his ardor steals your breath away. His jacket slips from your shoulders. You watch as he fixes the carvings in his headstone and adds to them in a sprawling language you’re almost too exhausted to read. Eventually, you find your voice again. You lean your cheek against his shoulder, and if your eyelashes are wet against his skin, he says nothing about it.
‘Tonight,’ Astarion says, ‘and on top of my grave, you have brought me back to life. That is a debt that cannot be repaid.’
You turn to him and this time it is your turn. You take Astarion’s jaw in your hands and lift his mouth to yours, kissing him so sweetly you’re almost certain that he swoons from the touch. It’s like kissing him for the first time, a kiss that sweeps over and over, until the ocean of night sweeps over you and you melt into his sinew.
 ‘You love me?’ you ask him just to hear him say it again.
‘I love you,’ Astarion says.
Love is not always in the eyes of the goddess. Love is buried somewhere most will never find it. It is healing, it is sweeping, it is gratifying. It is watching your lover’s hair turn grey strand by strand every morning. It is chasing the sun before it falls beneath the stars every evening.
You think you get it now.
Astarion rests his cheek against your palm, and for the first night since he was turned into a vampire, he slumbers in your touch. He dreams of a future where you are both mortal and laughing.
‘I love you too,’ you confess, and Astarion smiles in his sleep.
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sugarcoated-lame · 6 months
Note
kricket please i had this thoight and i just know you’ll understand it
dad’s best friend, jake seresin. OR! best friend’s dad, jake seresin.
i meannnnnnnnnnn
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SEB MY BELOVED ❤️❤️ this has been sitting in my inbox for… way too long and I am SO SO SORRY that it’s taken me so long to get around to answering it 😭 (truthfully I started writing something for it and completely forgot about it, and just found it while going through my drafts today haha 🙈😭😭) BUT today is also your birthday, so what better time for me to finally finish this hehe 🥰
AAAAAAAAAAAH OK
I had to go with dad’s best friend Jake, because I just feel like he would be the biggest tease, and he’d be so smug when he sees the affect he has on you.
Maybe you’re just back from college, and Jake has always known you’ve had a bit of a crush on him since he moved into the neighborhood a few years ago and befriended your father. He could see the way you’d always blush and stumble over your words whenever he’d so much as say hi to you when he was hanging around the house with your dad. The way your leg would bounce nervously under the table and you’d go quiet when your parents would seat him next to you when they’d have him over for dinners.
But now you’re older, a little more confident— and sure he still makes you blush, but now you’re not so afraid to be a bit bolder when it comes to your dad’s best friend. And you make it your mission to make him just as flustered.
Wearing your cutest, more risqué outfits whenever you know he’s going to be around. Going for a swim when you know Jake is coming over to help your dad out back with some yard work and lying out in the sun on a lounge chair in a pretty little bikini, your body on display just for him, glistening as water droplets glide across your smooth skin.
Leaning over him and brushing your arm against his when you go to reach for something at the dinner table. Relishing in the way Jake’s hungry eyes follow your every move no matter how hard he tries to fight it, that strong jaw of his that you’ve always wondered what it’d feel like to press little kisses to, clenching along with his fists anytime you brush past him. His cheeks still going a bit red despite the cocky smirk that fights to grow on his lips whenever you catch him staring.
It’s only when your parents are away for the weekend to celebrate their anniversary that something finally happens between you and Jake. Your dad asked him to check in on you while they’re away, and when you answer the door to in a too-big t-shirt that reaches your mid thighs and makes it hard for him to tell if you’re wearing shorts underneath it, face free of any makeup and showing off your natural beauty, hair in a messy bun with loose tendrils beautifully framing your face— looking absolutely irresistible and offering him a beer, Jake knows that he’s a goner.
You bring Jake his beer and tell him that you were just watching a movie and he’s welcome to join. The tension between the two of you is palpable as you silently watch the movie, nothing but the sounds of your quiet breaths and the movie playing on tv filling the room.
This is the first time you’ve ever been truly alone with him and Jake can see your confidence wavering as you sit on opposite ends of the couch, watching your leg bounce nervously as you try to your hardest to focus on the tv screen and not on him.
You jump when you feel a warm hand cover your knee to stop your fidgeting, looking down at it before turning your gaze towards Jake and seeing that signature, devilish smirk on his lips that never fails to make your cheeks feel hot.
“You nervous about something, honey?”
There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, your too-quick squeak of NO and the way you wince at yourself afterward telling Jake otherwise and only make that grin of his grow wider.
“C’mere, sweets.” His big hand glides up from your knee to your thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake as Jake helps to guide you closer and closer to him until you’re hovering over his lap, your hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders.
“You want this, darlin’?” His face is serious as he searches yours for any hint of hesitation, fingers brushing across the smooth skin of your cheek and causing you to whimper as you lean into his gentle touch.
“Yes, I want it— want you, Jake.”
His large hands trail down the length of your sides and you can feel the warmth of them through the thin fabric of your t-shirt as they wrap around your waist, pulling you down securely onto his lap.
Leaving you breathless as his signature cockiness returns, smirk taking over his face and mirth in those pretty, hooded green eyes as Jake leans in to whisper,
“Oh I know you do, honey.”
One hand cradling the back of your head, the other tenderly squeezes at your waist and pulls you flush against his chest as Jake pulls you in for a bruising kiss. The movie long-forgotten, this is just the beginning of a not-nearly long enough weekend spent learning each other’s bodies, figuring out what makes the other tick and fall apart, with Jake taking you on nearly every surface of your parents’ house and making you feel oh so good.
hehe thank you so much for this delicious thot, my love! I hope you enjoy this little birthday present from me 🥹 happy birthday babey, ilysm! 🥰😘💐💜💕💜💕💜
everyone go wish @sebsxphia a happy birthday <3
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incorrect-supercorp · 11 months
Text
kara: this is my girlfriend lena and this is lena's girlfriend, andrea
[an indefinite period of time later]
kara: these are my girlfriends, lena and andrea
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beanghostprincess · 4 months
Note
Roger really DOES have mad girldad energy and I am feral.
Welcome to my walls btw, it's hot af in Florida, so lmk if you need a popsicle/hj
Just. Omfg imagine Toki and Buggy bonding SO MUCH and Toki is the one who helps Buggy find Her Style and Her Confidence. Oden also has Big Himbo Dad Emergy too, so I bet he'd just be like ":000 a GIRL! WONDERFUL!!! I shall have TWO daughters!"
Roger ofc takes big offense to that and it becomes a shipwide brawl over who gets to be her dad, and Buggy is just laughing, crying, pickpocketing everyone. Only like. Three fellas even have the driving NEED to call her their daughter, they just love the chaos. Shanks is just left GAPING bc ofc he loves Buggy, he always has, always will, but the way she was smiling, the way she's just beaming at the acceptance, no matter how dramatic it is - by Davy Jones, it steals his breath away.
Whatever you do tho, don't imagine Toki dressing Buggy up in traditional Wano attire. Don't imagine Toki taking on the role of aunt or big sister and sharing this culture with Buggy. Teaching her the ways of warriors from her homeland, the codes and dress and recipes. Don't imagine Toki telling Buggy "family secrets" like recipes, fighting styles, etc. Don't imagine Toki just easily saying that of course Buggy needs to know these things! Blood is but the fluid of life, and love is what makes a family - and Buggy has so much love to give, so much to receive, and Toki calls her a child of Wano in heart and soul, in all the ways that matter should Buggy want that.
And Buggy, who has only ever wanted to BELONG, oh she accepts without hesitation.
Leaving Toki behind was hard, but she gifts Buggy an heirloom of sorts, a hair piece that she keeps either tucked under her beanie or safe in a chest, anchored to the floor of her room ((or hidden carefully with Devil Fruit powers)).
The day Toki manages to make/get a suitably sized kimono for Buggy, maybe for a party on the ship, maybe a birthday celebration ((and here I insert my Wano Culture Headcanons, that there's a birthday where children transition to young adults, and it's similar to a quinceñera but different, partially because it's done at 13, and then a second one at 18, a five year period of growth, life compared to butterflies, and so Toki convinces the crew to do these for the Cabin Kids-))
Buggy comes out, hair done, kimono flawless and bright and bold and so very her, a quiet joy on her face, and the crew is FLABBERGASTED.
Roger is sobbing.
Rayleigh has suddenly aged 20 years because oh shit oh gods she's going to be beautiful as an adult, oh damn it all he's gonna have to beat men off of her-
Shanks is caught between swooning, wanting to tackle her, and remembering just how the heck breathing works.
((Roger, Rayleigh, Crocus and Oden do rock paper scissors to get the first dance with her, and it dissolves into a fist fight somehow. Shanks gets involved and bites them. Toki takes the first dance.))
I have. So many emotions about transfem Buggy, bestie, send help it's all my brain can think about.
It's okay, I miss hot weather because here in Spain I am freezing and I am a spring child. My spiritual flower is a sunflower. I need the SUN. I NEED TO GO INTO THE FLAMES. So I'll stay there happily.
Please, Toki would so adopt Buggy. And Oden would be THRILLED. He'll see them getting along and he'd instantly say they look like mother and daughter. Buggy would be shy about it but Toki would probably laugh and say "Oh! Do we really? What do you think, Bugs?" and it's just,, So sweet,, Oden loves her a lot and he can't wait to see his Hiyori grow up too. Roger would be FURIOUS when he hears that because he "found her first" which, you know, true, but it's a weird way of saying that's his daughter. Anyway- Rayleigh would be so fucking done with everything. They'd fight about it and Buggy would actually have the time of her life because she feels important and flashy for once in a long time, and she'd laugh oh so beautifully at them when talking with Shanks about it in their room. Like she'd just laugh at the situation and Shanks is still not getting used to his very very not platonic feelings for his best friend. But he'd enjoy his time with her. He's just going a bit insane.
I can't stop thinking now about Buggy finally finding a place to belong. She's been lost for so long,, Feeling left out. And now Toki has gifted her with the most precious treasure there is: A home. Belonging. And I am so so emotional right now. Toki would be so proud of her and Buggy would just be so thankful. If Buggy called her 'mom' at some point, she'd feel embarrassed right away, but Toki would probably fight the tears and hug her close. Going crazy, really. All the men in Buggy's life fighting for her first dance,, Rayleigh just knows he'll have to fight all the men that hurt his precious star. And Shanks is starting to think about that too and the thought of Buggy dating somebody else makes him sick, so perhaps he needs to start with a plan to confess finally (he's so asking Toki about it. I'm gonna cry). Roger crying because he wants to enjoy every second he has left with her... It kills me.
I just know that to this day, Buggy still thinks about Toki as her mom. She never mentions it to anybody, but she feels such a strong connection to Wano and she's dying to go there finally someday. She might have not been born there, but her soul belongs there. And it's just so sweet. I am sobbing, thank you. Every time she does her hair, she feels Toki's hands instead of hers and she remembers everything she taught her,,,
Now I have on my mind a very silly Shuggy thought about Shanks trying to flirt with Buggy but failing miserably (because he's a kid and he only knows how to tease her or follow Roger's advice which are, um, not good) and Buggy just being so done and exhausted. She can't stand him! He's so annoying! Sometimes she doesn't know if she wants to punch him or kiss him! And she doesn't even know if Shanks likes her back because he keeps acting stupid. And she goes to Toki for advice and she's like "oh, darling... Men are stupid. Do you know why you felt smarter than them when you were unaware of being a girl? Well, one of the reasons is that Shanks is a kid. He's dumb. But he loves you and cares so much for you... He's just having a hard time trying to make his way to your heart" / "But he-! He's so damn- Ugh. He's such an idiot. He already did, and he just doesn't know because he can't see it and I can't stand him-" / "Well, maybe you should be the one telling him, huh?" / "What?! No! And give him the satisfaction of thinking I fell first?! I'd rather die. No. He has to make the first move". And now Toki is involved (like the rest of the crew because Shuggy is a whole teen drama) in their love story because Buggy keeps complaining about men being stupid and Shanks keeps saying he doesn't get how Buggy can't see he's in love with her.
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actual-changeling · 1 year
Text
probably projecting but idc but imagine ellie having a little crisis once they're in jackson and thinking that eventually joel will leave her cause she becomes too much of a burden/too annoying/too whatever and starts pushing his boundaries.
being more rude, being mean, behaving badly, trying everything to push him away cause she would rather figure it out now and have it be her doing instead of joel suddenly leaving her when she isn't prepared for it.
joel is incredibly confused by wtf ellie is doing cause to him it's all out of nowhere but he just assumes she's struggling and does not budge no matter what, he stays calm, lets her do whatever she wants, gives her what she asks for, even fights tommy and maria when they're like "parent ur child" and he just goes "shut tf up she is going through a thing and you will let her"
and eventually ellie reaches her breaking point and just yells at him before she starts sobbing "why dont you leave me already why are you still here i dont understand" and joel holds her face and goes "i wont ever leave you cause you're mine" (theyre too emotionally repressed to reach the ur my kid/dad stage just yet so he does the same thing he did with tess)
anyway they hug a lot and they talk it out in their own way and are happy nothing bad ever happens to the tlou 2 doesnt exist the end
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kamaluhkhan · 1 year
Text
i'm not wanting anything (but your loving, your body, and a little bit of your brain)
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pairing: shuri x fem!reader
summary: being an avenger doesn't leave you much time for college life (let alone a girlfriend), you and gwen stacy accidentally show up to a halloween party in a couple's costume, and shuri is determined to prove who you really belong to.
warnings: allusions to PTSD and death, mentions of alcohol and partying and smut - fingering (both shuri and reader receiving), oral (shuri receiving), thigh riding....
song inspo: "thats what i want" by lil nas x
a/n: hello!! this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr and im so nervous but very excited because shuri has been on my mind for the longest time. reader is an avenger in her senior year of college and best friends/roommates with peter parker. this is set before black panther: wakanda forever, and after endgame but some things are different (the blip was only a year, steve and tony both died in the final battle with thanos). anyways, please enjoy!!
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before the blip, you had the whole work/life/superhero thing (mostly) down to a science. now, everyone was still processing the absolute mindfuck of half the universe being snapped away by a mad titan, only to be returned by a group of heroes one year later.
in the midst of it all, the girl you'd travelled across time and space for somehow ended up low on your priority list, but you found comfort in the fact that it was mutual. you were busy in new york, with college (senior year was kicking your ass) and avengers work (trying to keep the city safe with half the team gone and the others scattered across the universe was exhausting) and your internship at oscorp (basically unpaid labor, but you needed the credit to graduate). shuri spent most of her time catching up on what she missed, working on scientific and technological developments in wakanda whenever she wasn't travelling with her brother around the world for united nations or wakandan outreach reasons. there was only so much calling or texting that can be done before your relationship started to feel like an afterthought.
tonight was supposed to change all that.
harry osborn was throwing a 'halloween in january' party. shuri was in new york with t'challa, but she'd promise to keep this night free, and you promised the same. you were looking forward to being surrounded by a crowd of drunk 20-somethings, taking shots, dancing to music that was way too loud, feeling shuri next to you.
normally, you didn't dress up for the holiday - wearing a supersuit all the time kinda takes the novelty away from wearing a costume - but if halloween could be in january, you decided tonight would be the exception. you'd decided on a red lace bralette with a matching vinyl skirt, fishnet stockings, and a headband with devil horns. you didn't normally show this much skin. it was supposed to be a surprise for shuri, and the hope was that the outfit would drive her crazy. you had finished decorating your face with glitter and were about to swipe on some red liquid lipstick when the text signal rang from your phone.
shuri ♡
i won't be able to come to the party tonight - brother wants me to join him at an ambassador's dinner. i'm sorry. love you.
you knew that there had been one too many times when you had done the same to her - needing to attend to your avengers duties instead of spend time together, cancelling at the last minute on plans you were both looking forward to. you would see each other next time one of you happened to be in the same place, which started to feel less and less likely. that was just the way things were. you were fine with it. totally fine.
after you send shuri a quick no worries! i understand, you finish applying your makeup, taking one last look in the mirror, ready to party even if you didn't have your girlfriend by your side.
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harry osborn was shirtless, wearing only a red and gold tie, jeans, and round glasses. you were pretty sure peter choked on spit when harry walked up to you, chest sparkling with a mixture of sweat and glitter under the disco lights.
"magic harry potter, right?" you guessed, glimpsing the lazily drawn lightning bolt on his forehead.
harry grinned and did a little spin to show off his costume. "hogwarts student by day, stripper by night," he said, voice strong over the pounding music. he gestured to your outfit, eyes lingering at the top of your bralette. "you look amazing. and you...." he looked peter up and down. "damn."
peter was wearing an earlier model of his spiderman suit. you'd told him it might not be the best costume to wear when he was still very much clinging to the whole secret identity thing. he didn't particularly care, though: apparently, he overheard a certain heir to the oscorp dynasty gush about how hot spiderman must be under the suit, and how much hotter it would be to be tied up by his webs. needless to say, by the way harry looks equally entranced by peter as peter is by him, your guess is that his eavesdropping paid off.
"come on parker, let's dance." harry didn't wait for an answer, only pushed through the crowd of people. he turned around and locked eyes with peter, a flirtatious grin on his face. you spotted a bar in the corner, and bartenders dressed up as various halloween creatures who walked around with trays of bright neon shot glasses. when a skeleton offered you some, you grabbed a few before they moved on to a trio dressed up as the powerpuff girls.
"i don't have to go if -"
"go," you interrupted, handing peter one of the drinks in your hand. "one of us should get laid tonight."
even though the flashing multicolored lights made it difficult to know for sure, you guessed that peter was blushing. you clinked glasses, downed the shots. peter kissed your cheek.
"love you!" he said before disappearing into the crowd to find his wizard with shining abs.
you smiled, and made your way to the bar. next to the bar was a table of halloween themed snacks - candy, sugar cookies in the shape of ghosts, orange cupcakes and more - so you popped a few pieces of candy corn into your mouth before ordering a drink. you took another jello shot while you waited, this one sweeter than the last and neon green. looking around the room, you were impress by how decorated it was: orange string lights, pumpkins, ghosts and bats floating from the ceiling. you wouldn't have guessed that harry osborn would be into this kind of thing, assuming that he was a trust fund kid used to parties at yacht clubs, but as "monster mash" played through the speakers, you had to admit you were pleasantly surprised.
you scanned the room to see if there was anyone you recognized. you spotted a mermaid making out with a pink power ranger; a group of fairies doing body shots; someone wearing a zombie captain america costume (steve rogers version) and another in a zombie iron man suit, both of which felt more than a little insensitive. it hadn't even been a year since they were gone, and you didn't need the reminder. you glared at the zombies from across the room, and the captain america actually noticed you, offering some sort of awkward salute, like you were a war hero. somehow, that made everything worse and the room suddenly felt suffocating and you just needed some air -
that was how you found yourself on the balcony, overlooking the manhattan skyline. there were heaters outside, thank the gods, so it wasn't too cold. you could still hear the chaos of the party from behind the glass doors, but other than that you were alone - or so you thought.
"you look hot."
you turn around to see gwen stacy in all her glory, wearing an almost perfect replica of claire danes' angel costume from romeo + juliet. the two of you were co-workers more than friends, both working at oscorp along with peter and harry, but it was comforting to see a familiar face.
"and you look amazing," you complimented.
"here, you looked like you might need this." she handed you a sugar cookie decorated with orange frosting and black sprinkles, which you gratefully accepted.
you split it in half, handing one back to gwen before devouring your own. you washed it down with the neon orange drink you'd ordered earlier, before offering a sip to gwen.
"god, is that --"
"vodka and orange crush," you explained. "apparently harry osborn likes to color coordinate his parties like he does his lab notes. at least this makes sense."
gwen laughed, angelic and carefree. "you wanna go back inside? i've always wanted to dance with the devil, and i was hoping this would be my lucky night."
you'd been around long enough to know that gwen was flirting with you and even if you were totally, completely committed and in love with a certain wakandan, you were feeling a little tipsy (probably more from sugar than alcohol, it was hard to tell), and it felt nice to be complimented, to be noticed, to be touched. so, you let gwen lead you to the dance floor, your bodies close together. you let her flirt with you, and maybe flirted a bit with her back. you let people compliment your accidental couples' costume. you weren't sure how long passed, after a while you heard your name being called over the sound of "somebody's watching me" by rockwell. ironic, you knew.
instantly, you recognized the familiar accent and lilt of her voice. you turned around to see shuri, wearing a black satin suit lined with dark burgundy, the shirt underneath long gone, revealing only a black lace bra and a gold body chain and gods she looked so fucking hot right now, it felt like your entire body was on vibrate.
"shuri!" you exclaimed, voice an octave higher than usual, a little thrown off by her sudden appearance. "um, this is gwen."
"hey! it's nice to meet you. i like your vampire costume --"
"i'm not a vampire," shuri interrupted gwen before dragging you to the bar. she leaned against the counter and ordered a whiskey, draining it in one sip before practically slamming the glass back down. "what in bast's name was that?"
"we were dancing," you explained.
"it looked like the two of you were about to rip each other's clothes off," shuri snapped. "i didn't realize that was how you danced in america."
you bristled. shuri was the one who ditched you tonight, and now she was mad at you? "it's a party. we were just having fun. you're overreacting!"
"i showed up to surprise you, but maybe you'd rather go to bed with that angel over there."
"that's bullshit."
"no, what's bullshit is me walking in on my girlfriend grinding on someone else while wearing this outfit." her eyes grazed your body dangerously, and from the clench in her jaw you could tell she had to restrain herself. "so don't pretend you need me here. it seems like there are other girls you'd like to fuck instead."
shuri ordered another drink, but before it arrived, you dragged her to the nearest bathroom. one of the zombie avengers from before - iron man - was about to enter, but you beat them to it, effectively closing and locking to door behind you. you ignored the subsequent banging on the door. harry's apartment was huge; you were sure there was at least one more bathroom, and you couldn't bring yourself to care about whether that asshole got a uti or not.
while shuri remained standing, pacing back and forth on the marble floor, you leaned against the counter, watching her.
"what the fuck was that?" you asked, arms crossed over your chest. "you walk in here accusing me of what - wanting to cheat on you? do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"
"you have to admit, it couldn't have looked good from where i was standing. you grinding on some blonde girl, wearing a couple's costume. don't think i didn't notice that, too."
your cheeks felt warm, knowing that shuri might have a point. "in my defense, the costumes were a coincidence and the grinding.... maybe that was less of a coincidence," you admit. you walk over to shuri, placing your hands on her cheeks to get her to finally look you in the eye. she gently pushed you away, looking down instead, but stayed in front of you. "look, i get that it probably looked like --"
"like you wanted to have gwen's babies."
you took shuri's humor as a good sign, continuing with a soft smile on your face. "please know that i'm 110% committed to you. i would never want to do anything to make you think otherwise. but...i'm not going to apologize for dancing, and having fun, because shit's been....fuck, shuri, it's been hard."
"you don't think it's been hard for me, too?" she scoffed, finally meeting your gaze. "i was gone for an entire year, and the world just moved on, and - and maybe it doesn't need me anymore. maybe you don't -- " she let the words get caught in your throat, and she broke away from your gaze once more.
oh.
what you thought was a burst of jealousy was actually...something else.
"hey." you take her chin between your thumb and your index finger, turning her head to look at you. "hey. i don't care how many dates either of us miss, how many oceans or time zones separate us, you are my person and i'm yours, okay? i will always need you." you moved to drape your arms around her neck, and she instinctively grabbed your hips, hands dangerously close to your ass. your bare torsos touched, the cool metal of her body chain brushing against you and sending shivers throughout your body.
you could tell that her eyes were slightly glazed over, and wondered if she was about to cry. your heart ached as you placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, as if to let her know: i'm here, and i'm not going anywhere anytime soon.
she didn't say anything, but instead closed the gap between your lips. it was such a rush kissing her, after all this time. her lips tasted like whiskey, mixed with sugar from the candy you'd been eating. when you pulled apart you felt dizzy.
"shuri." you whimpered. she lowered her head to the side of your jaw, placing a kiss just below your ear before whispering:
"tell me what you need from me."
"so much," you answered. "i need you on top of me, under me, inside me."
shuri's lips ghosted yours, the hint of a smirk.
"come on, sithandwa," she taunted, letting her xhosa slip out. "you can do better than that. be specific."
"fuck," you groaned. you found yourself being pushed back against the counter, the marble cold against your bare skin. shuri didn't stop kissing you everywhere, her hands exploring your body. "i - i don't know. something, anything, everything. any time i try to get off i need to think of you, but it's never as good as the real thing. and now that you're here now...." your words trailed off into a sigh. right now, you couldn't make a reasonable argument, let alone a logical sentence, even if you tried. you just wanted to relish in the moment - to enjoy her.
you throw your head back when you feel her thumbs brush underneath the vinyl of your skirt, the slight pressure reminding you that she was here, with you, for you.
"fine, i'll decide," she said sternly. she gestured for you to sit on the counter, and you did just that. shuri adjusted her body between your thighs, spreading them wider. she shuddered seeing the red lace thong you wore, the lack of fabric covering you, and met your gaze once again, eyes darker than before. "you don't get to come if you don't stay quiet. so be quiet for me, yeah?"
you bit your lip and nodded. anything, everything. she smirked, pushed the fabric of your panties aside, and sunk two of her fingers into you, knowing you were ready for her. even after weeks, months, apart, shuri could always read your body, know what you needed, how you needed it. the answer was simple, really; like you said, it was always her, her, her.
she kissed you, harsh and messy, tongue and teeth, swallowing your moans as her fingers brought you closer and closer to your release. shuri pulled your bottom lip with her teeth before moving to suck on your collarbone, your jaw, your neck. she bit down on your skin, right at your pulse point.
"i thought - i thought you weren't a vampire," you attempted a joke, but that was a mistake. you'd let a low groan tumble from your lips. another when she let her tongue soothe over the sting from her bite.
"i don't appreciate the attitude," shuri replied, her voice steady, but the corners of her mouth, slightly upturned, threatening to turn into a smile, gave her away. she was loving this. "and, i told you to be quiet."
she removed her fingers from your cunt and promptly shoved them past your red lips. you groaned again when she kissed you roughly, the taste of you dancing across your tongues.
"we'll try one more time to see if you can follow instructions. make me come, and maybe you can finish after."
she swapped your positions and unbuttoned her pants, pulling them off along with her briefs, as you got on your knees before her.
there was a joke here about the devil worshiping an angel, but you were too focused on her. her smell, gods, her taste - it was too overwhelming, and all you wanted was more. you'd spent your whole life on your knees for shuri if you could: worshiping her body, worshiping her.
you draped one of her legs over your shoulder, giving your tongue better access. shuri tugged on your hair slightly and you moaned, sending vibrations up her body.
"bast, that's it," she groaned. you added a finger, while your tongue worked her clit. "fuck. i missed you."
you brought her to the edge, stayed with her as she came. she probably expected you to get back on your feet right away, but you stayed, adding another finger and sucking her clit. she moaned your name.
you pulled away slightly. "one more, pretty girl," you promised. "can you do that for me?" she nodded furiously, and you went back to work.
when she came once more, you kissed her ankle before releasing her leg. shuri pulled you up to your feet, sucked the taste of her off your tongue.
"i missed you, too." you pull away, breathless, heart racing. "do i get to come now?"
shuri hummed. her thumb wiped the smudged lipstick below your lip. she studied you, admired you, like you were a fucking work of art that belonged in the met, like you hadn't just fucked her through two consecutive orgasms in the bathroom at a rich kid's upper east side apartment while michael jackson's "thriller" played outside the door.
"take off your thong." you did as instructed. she pulled you towards her, and lodged a leg in between yours. your cunt brushed against the skin of her thigh, back and forth as shuri guided your hips. "i can't believe you got all dressed up like this. absolutely sinful. and these...."
her hands moved to your thighs, nails digging into the flesh and dragging across your fishnets, effectively ripping them.
"shuri!" you protested, though it sounds like a moan.
"i'll buy you more. now, are you gonna come for me?"
the sound of her voice, the feeling of her skin against your heat, the smell of the two of you intertwining, it was too much. your orgasm crashed into you, and you were grateful that shuri held you through it. you kissed her once more before removing yourself from her grasp, smoothing down your skirt and looking around for your underwear.
"where are my...."
you looked over as shuri tucked your red thong into the inner pocket of her jacket.
"i'm guessing you'll buy me replacements for those, too."
she flashed you a shit eating grin before putting on her own underwear. she then pulled up her pants, not wiping your release from her thigh. the thought of her walking around, leg sticky with you, made your pussy clench.
the sound of someone banging on the door brought you out of your post-orgasm haze.
"holy fuck! hurry up!" they shouted.
"given your costume, i would say that was an unholy fuck," shuri joked, adjusting your headband for you. you nudged her playfully, rolling your eyes.
"how about we stay for a few songs, steal some cupcakes and drinks, and then head back to my place for round two?" shuri nodded.
"perfect."
before you opened the door, you shot her one last devilish grin. "oh. and this time, i'm in charge."
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the next morning, shuri woke up to an empty bed and the smell of burnt cinnamon.
you were sitting on the small window bench in the corner of your room, a tangle of purple yarn on your lap and crochet needle in your hand. even though there was frost on the window, you only wore a pair of boxers printed with the word 'sunday' and cartoon suns, and an empire state university sweatshirt.
"sithandwa? the bed would be warmer with you in it."
you turned to look at her, snuggled under your brightly colored duvet, eyes half open.
"this should help."
you walked over and wrapped a purple scarf around her neck, sitting cross-legged in front of her. shuri sat up, but kept the duvet wrapped around her. there was still glitter decorating your face from last night, and shuri reached out to brush some away.
"you made this for me?" you nodded.
"rhodey taught me how. said it would help with...." you trailed off, not wanting to go into the details of your insomnia. "anyways, t'challa mentioned at our last team meeting that you're going to vienna after this. we went there once to take down a hydra base and gods, it was freezing."
shuri kissed you, pulling you into her blanket cocoon so that you were inside as well, straddling her waist. you broke apart, and she put her hands under your shirt. you shuddered at the sudden contact, her skin cold. her thumbs rubbed circles under your breasts.
"it gets pretty cold in new york, too, doesn't it?"
"yeah, but i can just make another one," you explained, letting your finger trace the details of her face, her sharp jawline. shuri took your hands in hers.
"no, i mean....i can still wear the scarf you made me when i stay in new york."
you brightened like one of those cartoon suns. shuri staying in new york for more than a day, more than a night, hasn't happened in so long. you yearned to wake up next to her regularly, kiss over coffee and bagels, take the subway together, show her the tourist sights you yourself haven't been to since you were a kid - the statue of liberty, coney island, the works.
you stopped your daydreaming there, not wanting to get too ahead of yourself. life is busy. plans change. people leave, for a little bit or forever. it happens.
"like for another day?" you asked, clearing your throat to subdue the excitement in your stomach.
shuri shook her head. you knew it would be too good to be true.
"like for me to move to new york. to live with you."
wait, what.
"shuri. wakanda's your home just as much as new york is mine. i know this long distance thing has been tough on us, but i would never ask you to leave your home, your family."
shuri said your name softly and gently brought her palms to your cheeks.
"you're not asking. i'm offering. the dinner i had to attend last night was to convince the UN to greenlight our wakandan outreach centre in new york," she explained. "if it goes through, my brother suggested that i be the one to lead it. on site."
"and that's what you want?"
"what i want to be wherever you are. i want to be part of your routine. i want to meet your friends, skip work and spend hours in bed together. i want to be here for you - for parties and movie nights and graduation."
at that word, you put your hand up. "i'm going to stop you right there before you send me into an existential crisis."
shuri grinned. "but yes to the rest of it?"
"yes. yes, of course." you pushed her onto the bed so that you were both lying down, facing each other, your legs tangled together. "so...when is this happening?"
"probably in a month, maybe a month and a half. there are still hands to shake, contracts to sign."
"bureaucracy," you sighed. shuri giggled, and your heart fluttered at the thought that you would get to hear that sound on a regular basis in person, not just through cellphone frequencies.
"i am, however, staying for a few more days while my brother takes care of things in vienna. so you're not getting rid of me just yet."
"now that is great news." you kissed her once, then twice.
suddenly, there was a knock on your door.
shuri readjusted your position so that the length of the duvet covered both of your bodies. "come in pete!" you said once she was done.
the door opened and peter parker's face came into view, along with a plate of those ready to bake cinnamon rolls that must have been fresh out of the oven.
"there's extra if you want," he offered.
"that'd be great, thanks." you gratefully accepted the plate, swiping some icing from the edge and licking it off your finger. "what's the special occasion?"
peter cleared his throat. "no special occasion."
you glanced the hickey on his collarbone. "oh, so harry stayed over last night and you wanted to make a good impression on him. breakfast in bed, domestic husband, sort of thing."
"that's not --"
"that's exactly it!" a voice from the kitchen interrupted.
"good morning, harry!" you replied, smiling tauntingly at peter.
"harry, i don't think we've met!" shuri added. "peter has told me so much about you...."
peter groaned and flipped you both off before shutting the door.
"thanks for the cinnamon rolls!" you shouted.
there was a pause before the door opened slightly. a curt, "you're welcome," was offered before it was closed once again.
you got up to put on a record as shuri devoured a cinnamon roll.
"you know, i'm really happy you're staying for a bit because i actually need your help with some things." you ripped off a piece covered in frosting and stuffed it in your mouth.
shuri raised her eyebrow, waiting for you to explain.
"my electric toothbrush has been weird - i can't figure out, for the life of me, what is wrong with it - and i've asked peter to fix it one too many times at this point," you continued, ticking off checkboxes in your head. "i wanted to talk to you about some potential upgrades for my suit that i would love your opinion on. oh, and i'm pretty sure i also broke my vibrator." you grinned sheepishly. "i didn't even bother to ask peter about that one because we don't need to be that close."
shuri stiffled a laugh, muffled by a mouthful of cinnamon and cream cheese frosting. she swallowed. "how do you even break a vibrator?"
"i don't know!" you exclaimed. "that's where you come in."
"baby." shuri wrapped her arms around your torso. "if i'm staying around for a while, you won't need a vibrator."
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