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#so i probably wouldn't recommend drinking it
thenothing17 · 1 year
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depresseddepot · 1 year
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what is it about certain types of songs that make it feel like my soul is being pulled out of my body by some strong magnet. my liberation notes by choi jung in and outro by m83 and overture 2 by sleeping at last and sora tsutsumi by masakatsu takagi and across the ocean by azure ray and i stand corrected by vampire weekend and unbearably white by vampire weekend and lullaby by lord huron and where's my love by syml and take me back by heroe and the animal crossing wild world opening screen soundtrack. there's something to be said about the heartache that comes from a beautiful, loud, emotional ballads but it's the quiet, peaceful ones that really seem to get me
#ive been drinking so maybe this makes no sense#if you want a quick example of what i mean then listen to the first 30 seconds of my liberation notes by choi jung in#after that listen to overture 2 by sleeping at last if you want more#after THAT move on to outro by m83#anyways I realize the reason all these songs get me choked up is purely circumstantial#like my liberation notes wouldn't make me feel nearly as much if i hadn't watched the show (PLEASE watch it)#(seriously its on netflix and the writer is so so so talented. if you like these songs at all you'd love that show (probably))#or like the acww soundtrack. that is so very specific to my world experience lol#but is there a genre name for these types of songs??? the slow calm and very subtle instrumentals/mostly piano??#some of these are a little different than the others (the vampire weekend ones are a bit more fast paced than the others)#but the beginning of i stand corrected (the humming) makes me so so so relaxed#and the repeating towards the end of unbearably white is so soothing#ugh. its so hard having such great music taste /j#also please listen to across the ocean by azure ray. and please watch coffee prince#if i keep putting requests out into the universe maybe one day someone will actually care about me enough to do so#please engage with me. please engage with me. please engage with me. please engage with me.#my interests are so so important to me. please engage with me#it's never actually happened (someone engaging w something i desperately care about) but. maybe one day idk#its like that poem about how she gave him book recommendations and he read them and kept asking for more#thats what i want. i just want someone to indulge me#please engage with me#sorry#vent
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notjanine · 1 year
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this week me n Books got dressed up and went to a slightly famous fun new restaurant,* the next day we stayed in for a cozy movie night,** and the next we met their mom for dinner.*** it’s almost like we’re building a life together or something****
#also got absolutely railed on my birthday godbless#actually we had sex every night i was at their place this week which is. a lot bc we be fuckin for hours#it's great but whew that's a lot of time! ya girl has been sleepy as hell#* canje atx- it was fun and i would recommend it but i probably wouldn't go again#each thing we ate was good (except i hated Books' drink and they did not like the (v mustardy) callaloo) but most dishes weren't balanced#and they didn't present them in a way that made a lot of sense (i've been to one of the owners' other restaurants and it was similar there)#it was also unbelievably loud in the restaurant which would have been very unpleasant but it was fine being there with Books#like it was a bummer bc they had just finished the first ep of black sails and i'd just finished the first book in their favorite series#so we were both psyched for a good conversation over dinner but! not possible!#but we still had fun bc they're the only person on earth i could just look at and not talk to for an hour and a half#ANYWAY the appetizers did absolutely fuck we had a little tropical fruit salad and saltfish fritter and they were bomb#and i looked Cute in my little black dress with my new leg tattoo#** we had never done a movie night in before?? we've gone to the theater and we've watched tv at home but#hadn't done a full on lights out cozy blankets quietly stare at the screen for two hours before. it was great#*** my first time meeting a Mom and it was weird and scary and awk bc they aren't out to her so i had to use the wrong pronouns for them#but i survived. and they aren't super close for complicated reasons so it won't be a regular thing but. it was okay.#**** i spent christmas AND my birthday with them and#ok they're in school right this is currently their first semester of college#and they mentioned to their mom that they might be transferring/moving before they finish#that was my first time hearing that so i brought it up later like hey what did you mean by that where are you planning on going?#and they were basically like. if you pick a state i'll pick a school there#like it is time for me to start applying for jobs and i had been planning on bringing up this slight possibility with them but#i decided to wait until next week or later bc i didn't want them to feel obligated to say what i want to hear bc of my birthday#but they brought it up. because as usual we are very much on the same page#i don't even particularly WANT to move out of state right now but#to know that i wouldn't have to make the hard decision between them and my career? gosh#they're so good#i'm so glad i kept an open mind when my friend offered to set me up with someone the exact opposite of what i was looking for lmao#remember after that weekend i had those two first dates and i was like idk ab this Bookstore one... l m a o i was a fool!#now i am still a fool just in a different way
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yuujispinkhair · 3 months
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You are watching Sukuna. And Sukuna is watching his brother's girlfriend... Until he is watching you.
-> This is Part 2 of this drabble
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Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + angst with a happy end. Word count: 4k. Angst, lots of pining, unrequited love at first, mentions of alcohol. There is no cheating. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end. Minors don't interact.
This small series was inspired by this beautiful art by @nayasch.
Also, for the best experience, I recommend listening to "Is there somewhere" by Halsey while reading this. I had it on repeat while writing. Divider @/hitobaby
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It's a spilled drink that brings you closer to Sukuna.
Just a moment ago, you were holding your breath as you walked past the tattooed, pink-haired boy who makes your heart race, too shy to even look his way when you were so close to him. But then someone knocked into you, and now you are standing there like a deer in the headlights, your hands wet, your shirt ruined, staring wide-eyed at the big red stain soaking the front of your crush's white t-shirt.
You faintly hear some guy behind you apologizing. You have no idea if he is apologizing to you or to Sukuna. All you know is that Sukuna is glaring daggers at him,
"Get out of my sight before I punch your stupid face!"
And then those beautiful maroon eyes snap to you, and you forget how to breathe. You wished for Sukuna's gaze to find you, dreamed about it all the time. Hoped he would notice you, hoped that fate would hand you a chance to get closer to him. But now that it happens so unexpectedly, you don't know what to do. A muttered "S... sorry." leaves your lips.
Sukuna's gaze travels from your face down to your shirt, which is just as soaked as his. And that attractive lopsided smirk appears on his face, the one that gives you butterflies, especially now when he is standing right in front of you, close enough to touch. He shrugs,
"Wasn't your fault. I'm gonna change into a fresh shirt. What about you? Want one, too?"
You barely manage a nod before Sukuna starts walking away, and you quickly follow him to his room with your heart beating up to your throat.
He doesn't bother turning away but just pulls his soaked shirt off right in front of you, making your stomach flutter and your face heat when you see his firm abs and chest adorned with those sexy tattoos.
He laughs softly, probably seeing how flustered you are by his bare chest. But he doesn't comment on it and hands you one of his clean shirts, a white one like the one he was wearing before you spilled your drink over it.
He leaves the room after slipping into a fresh shirt, leaving you alone in his room so you can change in peace.
You sit on his bed afterward, pulse fluttering as you feel the soft fabric of Sukuna's shirt on your skin. You bring it to your nose to inhale its scent. It's fresh out of the laundry, so it mostly smells just of fabric softener, but it was in his dresser with his other things, and you can very faintly smell his cologne on it, making you close your eyes and sigh softly, overcome by a longing so bad it almost makes you choke up.
It's ironic. As if fate is taunting you. Here you are, sitting on Sukuna's bed and wearing his shirt like a girlfriend would. But he is already gone again, back to the party, where he will gaze at his brother's girl with the same longing in his eyes that fills yours, too, when you look his way.
Your hand reaches out to touch Sukuna's pillow, fingers sprawling over it, while you stare longingly at the dent where his head rests every night. What you wouldn't give to sleep in this bed with him. Feeling his strong arms around you, your body snuggled against his. Holding him, loving him, showing him that he can have all those things he longs for.
If only things were different.
It's hard to pull yourself away and leave Sukuna's room again. You feel a strange mix of emotions as you walk back to the party. Exhilaration upon getting Sukuna's shirt and being in his room, mixed with that familiar heavy feeling in your chest because you know he isn't yours, and he probably never will be.
You enter the living room and see him leaning casually against the wall in his fresh shirt, tattooed arms crossed over his chest, biceps flexed enticingly, head tilted back, a bottle of vodka pressed to his lips as his eyes are once again on his brother and his girlfriend, who are dancing in the middle of the room.
You leave the party shortly after to go home and crawl into your bed, still wearing Sukuna's shirt, hugging your pillow to your chest, wishing it was him.
Is he alone in his bed, too? Does he yearn, too? Does he, too, think about the one he craves but cannot have?
The thought makes your heart throb painfully.
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Another party, another evening of watching the boy you secretly love from your safe space across the room. His gaze is unsurprisingly on the girl standing next to his brother. Yuuji says something to her, and she laughs happily and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. And you see Sukuna's jaw tighten, see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps hard, see the burning jealousy and pain in his eyes.
You blink against the tears threatening to well up in your eyes. His pain is almost palpable to you, but no one else seems to see it. No one seems to care enough to really look at Sukuna. They all just see Sukuna's mocking smirk and the arrogance and roughness he wears like armor. They don't see the pain in those beautiful maroon eyes. They don't see that his heart is aching.
Maybe you only recognize the signs because you feel the same way.
Maybe it is this all too familiar pain you see on his face that makes you brave tonight. And after all, you have a good excuse to walk up to him and stop in front of him, tilting your head to look up at his beautiful face, and say softly,
"Hey, Sukuna... thank you for the shirt you gave me last week. I wanted to give it back to you."
You don't really want to give it back. You have slept every night in it since last week, snuggling into it, inhaling the faint traces of Sukuna's scent, dreaming about having him in your bed, hugging him, feeling the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.
But you reluctantly put it in the washing machine yesterday, folded it neatly, and put it in your bag to return it to him tonight.
You hand him the shirt, and Sukuna takes it, his large hand with the tattoos and various rings brushing over yours, sending the butterflies fluttering in your stomach like crazy. You know how nervous you must look when you smile a shaky smile at him,
"Thank you again. That was really nice of you."
There is surprise in his eyes as if no one ever tells him he is nice. Maybe he isn't. Or maybe people just don't see the small, nice things he does sometimes. Maybe he doesn't want them to see.
"No problem, princess."
You lie awake that night, in your own shirt this time, but with Sukuna's low, velvety voice playing over and over in your mind, calling you princess. You know it means nothing, but it still makes your heart race and a giddy smile lift your lips.
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You clutch your drink tightly as you watch the boy you secretly love from across the room, just like you do every weekend. If only you weren't so shy. If only you were brave enough to walk over to him without needing a reason like giving back his shirt.
You sigh longingly as your eyes trail over Sukuna's face. Longing is what you can see on his face, too, as his gaze is on the happy couple at the other end of the room. Your chest feels so tight that it hurts.
I want to take the pain away from you, Sukuna. I wish I could be the one to make you happy.
But you are standing here, and he is standing over there with his eyes on someone else.
A sad love song starts playing and the air in the room feels suffocating all of a sudden.
Maybe you should leave.
What are you even doing at this party, where you are surrounded by so many people but feel more alone than at home, where it is only you and your bed?
What are you doing, coming here week after week just to stare at a boy you can't have? Hurting yourself when you see him looking at someone else. Drowning in desperation when you realize week after week that he is just as alone in his pain as you are and that you will probably never be able to break through his walls.
He is in pain, and you are in pain, and nothing will change about that.
Might as well leave and never come back. Stay away from those stupid parties. Find other places to go to. Maybe after some time, you will be able to forget about pink hair and black tattoos and maroon eyes.
Right when you push yourself off the wall, Sukuna turns his head. That beautiful maroon gaze lands on you, and all you can do is stare back at him.
Time seems to slow down as you and Sukuna look at each other across the room. You are sure he can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the pain in your eyes, can recognize it for what it is because he carries the same pain in his eyes.
Maybe that shared pain is what makes him slowly walk over to you. He stops in front of you, his typical teasing smirk on his lips, but the same sadness still unveiled in his eyes.
For a moment, you think he will ask you to go to his room with him to fuck. And it fills you with dread because you know you would just be a rebound. You would just be someone he uses for sex to take his mind off the girl he really wants. It would mean nothing to him. And yet, you know that you would say yes. You would go with him, would lay down in his bed, would let him take everything he needs from you until you have nothing left. And in turn, you would take anything he is willing to give you, too, even if it was just meaningless sex. Because even if he just used you to distract himself, it would still be better than nothing. Even if it were just impersonal sex, without any feelings involved from his side, you would still go with him just to feel his skin on yours.
But to your relief, the question never comes. Instead, he says in that calm, low voice,
"You look like you aren't enjoying this stupid party either. Even the pizza tastes disgusting. I'll make something myself. Wanna join me?"
You follow him as if you are in a daze. Everything around you is blurred as you walk behind Sukuna's tall figure, following him to the kitchen, your head spinning, making you feel light-headed even though you barely drank any alcohol.
You sit on the kitchen counter while he cooks. Studying his beautiful face while he is focusing on the pan in front of him. The pain in his eyes is not as burning anymore while he stirs the vegetables and adds various spices. Maybe this is why he wanted to come here. Maybe cooking distracts him enough to ease the pain at least a little.
Those maroon eyes you love so much meet yours while Sukuna tells you how tired he is of those parties all the time and those people he cannot stand in his apartment. He doesn't say what he really means, but you know. How tired his heart is of the longing, of the pain, of having to pretend like he is ok.
You tell him he is a good cook when he hands you a spoon to try, and a smile flickers over his face. A genuine smile, not the typical smirk. And it makes you fall. Makes you tumble down an abyss that you know you will never be able to get out of again. As if you needed to fall even more for him. As if you weren't already too in love with him.
You know you are lost. Lost in everything that makes Sukuna Sukuna. You thought you knew him and already fell in love with what you knew about him on a surface level. But now you have caught glimpses of the boy beneath the surface, and it makes you fall even deeper in love with him. Makes your chest hurt even more. Makes your every fiber scream with longing.
He hoists himself up on the kitchen counter next to you, handing you a plate and grabbing one for himself, too. You sit in silence, eating side by side, while the sounds of the party dimly drift to your ears through the closed door.
You praise his cooking skills some more because you are too nervous to think of anything else to say and because you like the way his lips curl in a smile again and how the pain in his eyes is almost completely gone when he turns to look at you.
He tells you where he got the recipe, how he adjusted it over several weeks, and that he enjoys cooking a lot. The way he says it doesn't sound like he is simply doing small talk, but rather as if he is letting you in on a secret. As if this is a side of Sukuna that people aren't supposed to know.
And you smile softly at him, hoping it conveys that you are grateful that he lets you share this moment with him.
His thumb brushes over the corner of your lips to scoop up some stray sauce, making your heart beat so fast you think you will black out.
When you leave an hour later, you tell him that you really enjoyed yourself,
"Thank you for letting me try your food. It tasted delicious... and I..."
You want to tell him how happy it made you to spend time with him, just the two of you in the kitchen. That you will always keep those moments in your heart like a treasure. But you are too shy to say those words out loud, and so you trail off sheepishly, smiling nervously at him and nodding awkwardly.
"Bye, Sukuna. Have a nice rest of the night."
He watches you closely with those beautiful maroon eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face, saying nothing. But he holds the door open for you like a gentleman in those old movies.
You can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin when you lie in bed with a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your chest for the first time after coming home after one of those parties.
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You are standing in a corner, taking a sip from your drink as your gaze wanders to the tall figure leaning against the wall across the room. Tattooed face and arms, pink hair, and maroon eyes.
You are prepared to see his gaze glued to his brother's girl. You are prepared to see the familiar longing and pain on his face. But you frown when you realize Sukuna's gaze isn't staring at a fixed place but instead wandering slowly through the room, scanning it as if he is searching for something or someone, even though the object of his pining is right in front of him. And yet that gaze slips over her and continues to wander.
Until it lands on you.
It catches you so off guard that you spill your drink again. This time, only over your own shirt, but you cannot bring yourself to look at the mess. Your eyes are on Sukuna, watching wide-eyed as he walks toward you, brushing past the girl you thought he would look at without so much as sparing a glance at her.
He looks amused when he takes in the mess on your shirt. A raised eyebrow, a boyish grin lifting the corners of his lips, a long tattooed finger pointing at your chest,
"Need one of my shirts again?"
You are back in his room a few minutes later, changing into one of his clean shirts while he has his back turned to you, making your heart beat so fast that you fear he can hear it thundering in your chest.
He leans against his desk while you sit on his bed, finding it hard to breathe with how nervous you are. With how lovesick you are for him. The longing to hold him so bad that you feel dizzy from it.
And he talks to you, tells you about a new recipe he tried, about a cooking show he watched, about this and that. Like he wants to keep you here in his room. Like he wants a reason to stay here and not go out to the party again. Like you are his escape.
His shirt feels soft on your skin, his bed so tempting under you. You grab a small pillow to hug to your chest, and the butterflies flutter like crazy when you smell Sukuna's cologne wafting off it.
He jokingly asks you,
"Did you spill your drink intentionally so you could get one of my shirts again? Liked it so much, huh?"
And you chuckle and tell him,
"Well, the end justifies the means. That shirt you gave me last time was really comfy. I slept in it a whole week."
You feel your face heat up when you realize what you just admitted. But Sukuna just laughs, and those beautiful maroon eyes sparkle like two precious jewels.
He tells you to keep his shirt this time.
"So you have something to sleep in."
And your voice wavers nervously, but you still tell him:
"You are really nice, Sukuna. Do you know that?"
He scrunches his nose at that,
"That's something I've never heard anyone tell me before. Are you sure you got the right Sukuna?"
"Yeah. In my eyes, you are nice. At least when you want to. You give me your shirts, and you let me try your self-cooked meals, and you hold open doors and talk to me and... make me feel less alone on these parties."
The last part comes out in a whisper, your emotions threatening to choke you up as you are overcome by your feelings for him. Being so close to him, spending time with him, seeing him smile and joke around with you. Sharing those moments with him that seem like something special.
Sukuna's eyes widen, an emotion flickering over his face that you cannot place. Surprise, maybe, but also something else. Something much softer. He looks away for a moment, staring at his wall that is adorned with pictures of pretty landscapes and bright red shrines and an old man standing in the middle of two pink-haired boys.
When he looks at you again, there is a vulnerability in his eyes you have never seen before. His voice is soft when he tells you,
"You make me feel less alone, too."
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Sukuna kisses you for the first time at a party two weeks later. And it is not a kiss in the middle of the party. It is not a kiss in front of his brother and his girlfriend. It is not a kiss meant for someone else. It is not a kiss to make someone jealous. It is not a kiss only for the show.
No, it is a kiss that is real. In his room, where he sits next to you on his bed. It is soft and slow. Sukuna's hand is cupping your cheek gently, his lips brushing over yours slowly as if he is scared to hurt you or hurt himself. As if he is scared that he is fucking things up. Or maybe as if he fears he doesn't deserve this.
It's a kiss that makes you fall apart and makes you whole at the same time.
You kiss him back as tenderly as he kisses you. Slow and gentle, your eyes closed, your hand landing on his neck and caressing the short stubble of his undercut. You kiss him like you are writing poetry for him with your lips against his, putting all the words you are too shy to say into this kiss, all your longing for him, all the tenderness you feel for him, all your love. And he kisses you like he is a drowning man who finally reached the saving shore.
You walk out of his room side by side. Sukuna holds your hand, tugging you along to the kitchen to cook another homemade meal he wants to share with you.
Your heart feels like bursting with happiness. No traces of pain are left in Sukuna's eyes when he hands you a plate of stir-fried rice. And that smile is lighting up his face again. He is so beautiful, and you tell him so without worrying that he will make fun of you.
He kisses you again when he walks you to the door, right there in the hallway where anyone can see, his lips lingering against yours before he pulls away as if he doesn't want to let you leave.
You smile at him and nod when he tells you to text him once you are safely home.
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"I like you."
Sukuna tells you in a soft voice while you are straddling his lap, currently cleaning some food experiment gone wrong off his tattooed face with a wet kitchen towel.
Wide, terrified maroon eyes look at you as if their owner thinks he just handed you a knife for you to ram into his chest and twist in his heart. It makes your own heart throb painfully even as you feel elated to hear that your feelings are reciprocated. Seeing this rough boy so scared. Scared of his feelings, scared of admitting them. Scared what you will do with that confession. Because all he knows about love is that it is painful and that it hurts and never gets returned.
You want to cry for him. For the boy who, until now, only knew meaningless sex and hopeless longing for what he thought he couldn't have. For the boy who believed that love wasn't meant for someone like him.
The first tear slips out of the corner of your left eye as Sukuna's large hands sprawl over your waist possessively, and he repeats his words despite the fear so evident in his low voice, the words nothing more than a hoarse whisper,
"I like you so fucking much."
Your hand with the towel is hovering in midair, your lips twitch, and finally, you cannot hold back anymore, and the tears spill over, running down your cheeks in hot rivulets. A broken sob falls from your lips, followed by a choked-up sounding:
"I like you too."
Sukuna closes his eyes for a moment, long black lashes fanning over his skin, a beautiful image that makes you drop the kitchen towel and cup his cheek with your hand. Your thumb brushes tenderly over the tattooed lines on his skin when those beautiful eyes open again and look deeply into yours.
He is braver than you are. Adding more to his confession. Making sure you can destroy him fully, if you like,
"Do you know what I mean? I.. I think I am in love with you."
"Sukuna..."
Your voice is thick with tears, but you continue despite the fresh tears welling up in your eyes, despite how much you are trembling in his arms,
"I... I am in love with you, too. Have been for months. Or maybe I was in love with an idea of you back then. But now I know the real you, and I fell even deeper in love with you."
You can see in his eyes that he half expected to get turned down, and it breaks your heart for him, even while happy laughter bubbles out of your trembling lips.
You cling to him when he kisses you, never wanting to let go again. Filled with the need to show him that this love won't hurt. That it won't slip through his fingers. That love can be good and safe and give him peace. That he deserves love, too, and that you are here to love him with everything you have.
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It's another Saturday, and you are at Sukuna and Yuuji's apartment two hours before the party starts, helping them with the preparations. Yuuji's girlfriend is there too. You feel a bit awkward, a bit uneasy when you see her. But she smiles a genuine smile at you and greets you with a hug.
You work next to her for an hour and realize that she probably never was aware of Sukuna's feelings. She might look at Sukuna, but she doesn't truly see him. She only sees Yuuji. Her gaze is filled with love when she looks at him with an expression on her face that lets you know she has found her person.
You turn around to glance at Sukuna, a mix of fear and hope in your heart. What you see makes your chest fill with warmth. Sukuna isn't looking at Yuuji's girl. He is looking at you. Looking at you with the same expression as Yuuji's girlfriend when she looks at Yuuji. And you know that Sukuna has found his person, too. 
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You wake up in Sukuna's bed with his tall, firm body behind you, just like you do almost every morning now. You feel his lips against your skin, trailing gentle kisses up and down your neck. His voice is still hoarse from sleeping when he murmurs,
"Mine."
His arms tighten around you and pull you even closer to him. And you answer with a smile audible in your voice,
"All yours."
Your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so broadly when you feel Sukuna's matching smile against your neck and hear his whispered:
"Just like I am all yours."
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I cried so much while writing this and listening to the song and looking at the beautiful fanart and the sadness in Sukuna's eyes. This version of Sukuna is my Achilles heel. I love this broken mess of a boy so much. I want to love him so bad and make him happy :(( This story hit me so hard, and the kissing scene is one of my favorite scenes I ever wrote. I am so emotional right now, but also so happy to share it with you.
Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first part of this story, wishing for a happy end. I needed a happy end too, and I am so glad I wrote this!! This story is very personal. I could relate to Reader 100%, and I got the impression that a lot of people could see themselves in her, too. So I hope you could enjoy your happy end with Sukuna, just like I did 🖤
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hollowtones · 9 months
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TONIGHT'S COCKTAIL: "White Gilgamesh II"
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I didn't have any goat's milk so it's not a true White Gilgamesh. This is the sequel.
INGREDIENTS:
Beer (2 parts, approx); lukewarm
Cow's milk (1 part, approx)
TEXTURE:
Rich. In a bad way. Velvety smooth on the way down. Leaves a thin, filmy, unpleasant coating on the inside of your mouth when you swallow. Carbonation from the beer feels caustic on the tongue. The fizz goes away alarmingly fast.
TASTE:
Notes of bad quality ice cream or yogurt, chemical sour, fermented funk, tonsil stones, and bread. Reminds me of eggnog but missing literally everything that makes eggnog good. Flavours intensify as time passes & the drink warms, but it reaches an eventual Flavour Peak and rapidly plummets to tasting like nothing. (This might have also been me building up an immunity to the drink as time went on.)
REVIEW:
It wasn't TOO foul and it wasn't TOO thick. But it went down hard and it wasn't good. It made me feel I was made of wood. Didn't make me feel like I was going to hurl, though! Which I suppose is ideal for a drink for a long night. I cannot imagine the goat milk original is much better. I wouldn't recommend drinking this. If you love to have bad ideas like me, though, then I probably can't talk you out of this. CHEERS!!!
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elliezato · 3 months
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‪‪❤︎‬She's Jealous‪‪❤︎‬
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pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
summary: Ellie gets jealous when she sees you kissing another girl
warnings: MDNI! cursing, drugs/alcohol, fingering, bathroom sex, public sex??
a/n: This is my first fanfic so idk how to feel about thisss. Also, I feel like this story isn't very original but I keep replaying this situation in my head, helpp. I'm open to recommendations! I will probably only write ellie x reader fics for now but let me know what you want and I'll write it! I get writer's block and need inspo!! Anyway... I hope you enjoy:)
♡︎.You and Ellie have been broken up for about a month now.
Parties have never really been your thing but your friend Dina has been begging you to go to one with her.
"It's been almost a month. You can't keep isolating yourself in your dorm like this."
You lay on your bed while Dina tries to convince you to go out tonight. She's right though. Things haven't been the same since you and Ellie broke up.
"Listen. Come to the party tonight. I hate that this breakup is holding you back. who knows. maybe you'll meet someone!"
Dina leaves and you make up your mind.
You change into a pleated mini skirt and throw on some baby tee you haven't worn since your relationship. Ellie liked it when you wore skirts and you knew that. Some part of you was hoping she would be there so she could see you. You apply a thin wing of eyeliner and put on your docs.
----------------------------------------------------------
Later that night you walk into the party. The house smells of weed and music covers the sound of people talking. You see Dina and Jesse from across the room. They're drinking and dancing with a few other of your friends. You hesitantly walk over to join them.
"Y/N!! thank god you're here!" Dina hugs you with one arm and a drink in the other.
"Damn, this is the first time I've seen you out since... you know" Jesse laughed as he took a sip from a red solo cup.
You sat on the couch and drank as you watched your friends enjoy the night. You hated yourself that you couldn't get up and have fun. The air felt hot and there was nothing left in your cup. As you get up to get another drink you feel eyes on you.
There she was. Ellie stood there with a drink in her hand. Your heart sank. This was the first time you've been in the same room as her since the heat of the breakup. Her eyes were on you as you slowly walked past her to get a drink. You look at the ground as you pass her, doing everything you can to avoid eye contact. When you look up to get another cup, you see Ellie standing in front of you. As she opens her mouth she say something to you, you feel hands on your waist.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing at a party alone?" The girl looks you up and down with a soft smile on her face.
From the corner of your eye, you see Ellie take a sip from her drink and walk away. You feel yourself sadden as Ellie leaves your presence. Fingers run down your waist. You look behind you and the girl is still there. It's been a long time since someone has hit on you. Honestly, the last time you romantically got attention from someone was with Ellie.
"You alright? What's upsetting you baby?" The girl whispers in your ear.
At this point, you'll do anything to get your mind off Ellie. A new relationship isn't what you want but it couldn't hurt. You turn around and face the girl. You've never seen her before but she's honestly really pretty. It wouldn't be hard to distract yourself around someone this attractive.
"m'nothin" The alcohol is hitting you. Usually, you'd feel guilty flirting with anyone other than Ellie, but right now, nothing matters.
She pulls you closer by your waist and passionately places a kiss on your lips. The sudden proximity makes you tense. Her hand travels down your hips while the other grabs your face. Something about this feels wrong but you push the thoughts back.
"I'm sorry, I have to go. I came with my friend and promised I wouldn't leave her" You lied so bad, you almost cringed.
You remove yourself from the girl's grasp and take your drink as you walk away from her. The pain of the breakup is sinking in again. You wander around the party to find Dina but she's off with Jesse. There's no point in being at that party anymore. You down the rest of your drink and walk outside. The air is cold and dry. Snow falls gently as the music from the party echoes.
"What the fuck were you doing? Kissing another girl? Already?" Ellie stares at you with a joint between her lips.
"Ellie." You look at her in shock.
"We've been broken up for barely a month and you're already making moves on other women!?" She laughs under her breath as a cloud of smoke leaves her lips.
"Why do you even care. We're not together" You look at her with sad eyes. The tough act was never your strong suit.
She grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head towards her. You gasp at her touch. Snow falls down on the both of you. Your breath is visible in the cold air and the only thing keeping you warm is the heat of the situation.
"Are you trying to make me jealous, hmm?" She looks at you with lustful eyes.
"No! she kissed me..." Your voice trails off as you feel the touch of Ellie's fingers trace your jaw.
Nothing could've prepared you for this. The last time you two spoke was the breakup. This was a topic that was hard for the both of you. Clearly, the thought of the other stayed lingering in your minds. Her touch felt nice. You could feel yourself practically melting in her hand. The similar scent of weed got stronger as her face got closer.
"It worked." She takes one last hit of her joint before tossing it on the ground.
"What?" You look at her dazed and confused. Your eyes soften as her fingers trail down your neck
"I'm jealous." She admitted as she tightened her grip on your face. "Let's go back inside and show them who you belong to, yeah?" Ellie gives you a dirty grin.
You follow her back into the party. Even with Ellie, you didn't want to be back in there but that didn't matter in the moment. She walks through the crowd of people holding on tightly to your waist. You look over at her face a notice a cocky grin stuck to her lips. You can feel the eyes of the other girl you were with earlier staring at you. Ellie notices the girl staring at you. She grabs your face in front of her and kisses you. You pause as her lips touch yours. You missed this. Fuck. You missed her touch so bad. Leaning in for more, Ellie playfully pushes you away.
"God you're just as needy as I remembered." She pulls you away from the crown and leads you into an empty bathroom.
Ellie pushes you against the door causing it to shut behind you. Her lips passionately press against yours. You let your hands roam her figure. Fingers running underneath her baggy band tee. She grabs your hands and pulls them away.
"You're not getting it that easily" She glares at you as she takes your wrists by one hand and holds them above your head. "I'm going to make sure everyone knows how good I'm fucking you" Her breath is hot against your ear.
Her tongue explores your mouth and her other hand runs up your shirt. You let out a soft moan as her fingers draw circles around your nipple. She lets go of your hands and strips off your shirt. Her kisses move down your neck, leaving marks for everyone to know she you were hers. Her tongue reaches your nipples and she traces small circles around them. Her mouth moves further down your chest. Fingers moving down your waist meeting the hem of your skirt. She stops kissing your body and looks up at you. Her fingers slide up your skirt and meet your damp underwear.
"Fuck- You're so wet and I've bearly touched you" She continues kissing down your waist.
She pulls your underwear down your legs and throws them off. Her fingers finally graze your wet folds. She picks you up by your waist and places you on the counter. The granite is cold against your thighs. She sloppily kisses your lips as she inserts a finger into you. You throw your head back and hum at her touch. She grabs your chin and forces you to look at her.
"Look at me while I fuck you with my fingers." She glares up at you. Her face is desperate to feel you.
Your hands run through her hair as she pulls her finger out. She adds another finger and slams them into you. You hold the counter with one hand and the other pulling at Ellie's half-up half-down updo. You're holding in your moans remembering there's a crowd of people right behind that door. You close your eyes as Ellie curls her fingers inside of you, hitting the right spots.
"Fuck Els- s'good" You quietly whimper trying to hold back.
Tears are forming in your eyes. You can feel the warmth building up in your stomach. Ellie can feel you're close. She stops her motions and pulls her fingers out of your cunt. Your slick coats her fingers, dripping down her arm. She brings her fingers to your mouth. You clean Ellie's fingers with your tongue, whimpering for more action.
"I'm not going to give you anything if you're not going to moan for me. I want to hear you" Her fingers slide out of your mouth and find their way back down to your inner thighs.
"They're gonna hear" You bite your lip as your thighs press together.
"That's the point baby. Tell me how bad you've missed me" She keeps eye contact as she moves her face down to your hips.
She pulls your tighs apart, spreading your folds with her finger. Her tongue rests right above your clit, waiting for you to beg.
"Fuck- I need you Els. I need you to fuck me." You give into her commands wanting to feel her touch.
She finally complies and licks circles around your puffy bud. She thrusts her fingers into you once again while tasting you on her tongue. You squirm under her touch. Pornographic moans leave your lips as she starts to suck your clit. Tears fill your eyes as you look down at Ellie taking you in.
"You taste so good, I've missed your pretty pussy" She smiles against your folds removing her fingers.
The vibrations of her voice cause you to moan as you push her face closer to you. Her tongue slides down your folds and she pushes it into you. At this point, you're a moaning mess. Anyone who walks by that bathroom knows what's happening. Her nose gently rubs against your clit as her tongue fucks you.
"mmm~ i'm gonna fucking cum-" Your hips grind against her face.
She holds your waits pulling you closer. Her tongue slides out and sucks your cunts as her fingers push deep inside you. The heat in your stomach feels like it's going to burst. Only Ellie could have you panting and desperate to cum like this in a bathroom.
"That's it baby, cum for me okay?" She feels how close you are.
Her pace fastens as she gets you to release onto her fingers. Your hips buckle as whimpers and moans fill the room. She continues but slows her pace milking your orgasm. She licks the wetness from your cunt and you pant in her arms.
"I missed you" Your eyes look at her as she moves closer to your face, kissing your lips.
You can taste yourself in her mouth as she sloppy kisses you. She holds your waist and guides you off the counter. You're a mess. Makeup is running down your face and your hair is falling from the ponytail it was in. Eille was still completely dressed as she watches you put your clothes back on. She takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on your neck.
"You're such a slut for me" She grins as she places her hand on the door nob. "I don't want to ever see you tasting another girl's lips, got it" You nod in response.
You realized how hot the room was when Ellie opened the door and you felt the coolness of the party on your skin. She takes you by the waist and leads you back into the party. Ellie wore a cocky smile knowing she was the only person at this party who could get you moaning like that. Eyes were on you when people realized who was in the bathroom.
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ancuninfiles · 1 month
Text
Comfort
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Screenshot by @astarionposting
5.6k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Tav - 18+
Summary: Nym, a wood-elf, finds herself thrust into leadership of a ragtag crew. From day one she is overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility. She seeks solace and unexpectedly finds herself drawn to the tent of a pale elf. In the intimacy of their encounter, they both ponder the potential for mutual comfort and connection amidst the chaos of their new journey. ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ Oneshot turned into a multi-chaptered work. I changed her name from Tav to Nym bc I am becoming attached to her and she needs a proper name. Pronounced "Nim"
Tags: Smut and Fluff, Druid Tav, Tav has catgirl vibes, Soft Astarion, P in V sex, Oral (female receiving), Wood elf Tav, Blood drinking, Vampire bites, Choking, Light BDSM, Enthusiastic consent, Soft dom Astarion, Tav is autism-coded, Romantic Comedy, Creampie, Aftercare, Realizations of feelings, Astarion is a dork
I changed Tav's name to Nym (Nim)
Read on AO3 (recommended)
Read part 2
It was a brisk night in Faerün. She had acquired allies that had also been infected with Mind Flayer parasites today. It was day 1 of this bullshit and they already had chosen her to be their leader for some reason. It was too much pressure. She already had a hard enough time deciding what to eat for breakfast, let alone make life-or-death decisions. She started getting a headache just thinking about how overwhelming all this was, and she wasn't sure if it was maybe partially caused by the literal worm in her fucking brain. 
"Silvanus, save me." She whispered a quiet prayer to herself in her tent. 
Nym started to think of what she usually does when she is stressed out. 
- Make tea (Shit, we have no tea, at least not the ones I am willing to drink from the woods in this region.)
- Take a warm bath (Well, there was the cold Chionthar. Getting cold and wet before bed was an idiotic idea.)
- Read a book (We have no books at camp yet, better add it to my Gods forsaken shopping list.)
Nym groaned in frustration. 'What else what else what else!? Come on, think.' 
Nym remembered that when she was growing up, Wild Shaping into a cat would often provide her comfort in trying times. She was able to cozy up in tight places like baskets and tree stumps. Nobody would ask anything of her or disturb her. 
If she Wild Shaped into a cat right now and hung out a bit outside of camp, she doubts her new-found "friends" would go looking for her. They just met and there is no way they are on that level. If she disappeared right now forever, they probably wouldn't even think about her ever again. Perfect. She just needed to slink away for an hour or so to decompress without the threat of the companions asking her for instruction or expecting her to have a fucking plan.
Nym stepped out about 30 meters into the woods, wearing sandals and trying to avoid getting twigs stuck between her toes. She needs to avoid having a meltdown and ripping her hair out for at least long enough to get into her cat form. 
"ERRG" She fumed. Sap managed to get into her sandals and it was sending her teetering over the edge. 
She transformed in a rage into a fluffy white cat with green eyes and a pink nose. Suddenly her hearing had improved. One thing she forgot about her cat form was that everything was much louder. Usually, the sounds of nature would help calm her, but right now, everything was setting her off. She could practically feel the sound of the wind bristling through the trees.
Her clothes remained in a pile on the forest floor. She stepped out of them with grace and then started making her way back to camp. Surely none of her companions would find it strange that a cat was hanging out at camp. They would probably just assume she was looking for scraps or hunting for fish down by the river. 
She arrived at the tree line and saw that everyone was either at their tents or in their tents. Good. She started walking to the fire, past the pale elf's red fancy tent. She couldn't remember his name. 'Aster? Asherion? Hmm.' She pondered. He was slightly threatening but mostly cute. He seemed to have a handful of sardonic quips in his arsenal. Locked and loaded, ready to fire whenever the tension needed to be broken. She always adored people like that. Those types of people were always good to have around, especially when she found herself often being embarrassed in social situations, falling silent and not knowing what to say. Gods it helps having someone silly with a dark sense of humour to just be idiots with. She hoped that he liked her, too, and maybe they could be buddies. Maybe he would help make the horrors feel less horrible. 
She was almost at the fire and heard something from behind her. It was the pale elf, Ass-er-rion or whatever the Hells his name was. Was he? No. No fucking way.
He was holding his hand out, rubbing his thumb to his fingers. "Psspsspsspsspsssss." The pale elf made the one sound that Nym couldn't resist in her cat form.
Hypnotized by his hand and his sounds, Nym's cat pupils blew as wide as can be and she brought her body tight to the ground and stalked towards The white-haired elf's tent. 
'Huhuh... Shit. I want - that hand. What - is in hand? I must bite hand.' She thought, against her better judgment. She crawled closer to his hand, and then she sped up. Finally, she pounced on his hand and wrist, nibbling at his wrist and kicking his hand.
"Ah ah, we ask before we bite." He said as he started to rub her soft fluffy tummy. Nym was disarmed and quickly unlatched from The elf's arm. She slumped into a puddle and slowly closed her eyes.
'Mmm, this is so relaxing.' She thought. Nym started purring. This was exactly what she needed.
The grinning elf scooped her up and put her on his lap. "You are a very cuddly kitty." He said quietly in a baby voice. He started scratching her armpits and under her chin. Rubbing her belly when she rolled over, scratching and patting the base of her tail when she rolled back onto her tummy.
'Free massages for kitty Nym. Hmm, this is the best!' She thought. She would occasionally stand up on his lap, stretching her front paws up to his chest and rubbing her head on his chin. It felt so nice. There was not a worry in her mind. 
He scratched and petted Nym's cat form thoroughly for 5 minutes before lying back while Nym rested on his chest, curled up in a ball, peacefully trancing and purring. He stroked her languidly across her side, occasionally petting her tail by gently holding it and making his way down to the tip before going back up the base and giving it a little scratch. 
Nym started slowly kneading at his chest with her toes and claws. This was the definition of bliss. She lay cozily on his still chest, accepting any and all the pets the gentle pale elf could offer her. 
"Oh kitty, I have had a terrible day, you wouldn't believe it." He whispered, "Your snuggles are the highlight of my evening." He said quietly in baby talk as he booped her nose and she twitched her head back but remained comfortable on his chest.
"Do- do you think people will understand if I bite like you do?" He asked in his most hushed tone. "Will people think I'm cute if I bite like you? Gods I'm starving." He says as he throws his unoccupied hand to his face, cupping his nose and then running his hand down his face, pulling his skin with it in frustration.
Nym then stopped kneading. The sound of his hand making contact with his face slightly startled her. Not only that, his words slightly pulled her out of her trance. 'If I bite like you do... okay? Odd. But then 'Gods I'm starving.' Uhmm...' she thought to herself. Still snuggled up on his chest, but now with her paws tucked under her chest and purring a quiet rumble on him. 
She started thinking, hard. 'What an odd thing for one to say. Is he a cannibal? Like the Bhallspawn type?' She sniffed. 'He doesn't smell like a Bhallspawn, usually they have an undertone of rot in their scent. What other type of person likes to bite people? Zombie? No. Stupid. Not a fucking zombie. A vampire? No way. He was in the beating sun when we had met. He would have been ash before I even got there if he was a vampire. Although..' she peered up at his face, looking for the tell-tale signs of a vampire. His eyes were closed and his head was back, so she decided to stand on his hard chest and stalk up to his face, sniffing his lips. 
He felt a tickle on his mouth that made him open his eyes and smile. "Oh, kitty you are so sweet!" He said in a squishy tone.  He picked her up off his chest and sat up in his candlelit tent.
Nym looked him over. She peered into his eyes which were garnet red. 'Oh fuck. Well... if he doesn't have fangs, maybe he is just part drow or something.' But then he flashed her a toothy grin. 'FANGS? OH FUCK. OH SHIT OH FUCK OH SHIT OH FUCK.' She started to panic. Her fur started to stick straight up off her skin... If the pale elf had been looking at her, he would probably be concerned.
"Well kitty, time for me to start getting ready to sleep." He said with a smile as he took off his night-shirt and then began to unlace his trousers. 
'SHIT. THIS IS NOT OKAY. I CAN'T BE HERE.' In a panic, she let out a loud and low-pitched yowl before suddenly transforming back into a human in his tent. Naked. 
They both screamed and then simultaneously went to cover one another's mouths with their hands. Then, they fell silent as they stared at each other's terrified eyes. 
"What was that? Is everyone okay?" Yelled the wizard from his tent.
The pale elf ripped your hand away from his mouth. He was pissed. "Yes! Just practicing for the opera!" He looked back at you with a deep frown and rolled his eyes.
"I see. Well maybe save it for tomorrow instead of waking everyone at camp, thank you."
Nym couldn't help but giggle a bit under his palm. Shit, he was hilarious. Suddenly becoming too aware of the lack of clothes she had on, she pulled away from his palm and scrunched her knees to her chest. "Can I uh, have that blanket for a moment, please."
The pale elf scoffed, "Fine, but only because I am such a gentleman. Godsdamned druids." He gave her the blanket and she draped it over her shoulders and around her knees.
"I, uhm, I'm really sorry." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
The handsome elf pinched his brow ridge with his finger and thumb, as he closed his eyes and scrunched his face in a scowl. "Why did you let me go on for so long, believing you were a real cat."
Nym looked down in shame. "I guess it's just that when I wild shape, sometimes the instincts of whatever animal I turn into take over me. Like I'm not in control." She sighs. "You called me over and your massaging felt so good. I was really stressed before, and, well, sometimes I turn into a cat to help calm myself down... I just, uh, didn't realize that we had a major cat-lover in camp."
The pale elf covered his face with both his hands as if trying to hide how embarrassed he was. He whined "Ohoho Gods save me. For once. Please just this once."
"I um - heard, also, what you said about biting and what-not," Nym says, awkwardly. "And your eyes, and teeth... Well... Also, I forget your name. What was it again? Asherton?"
He then ran both his hands through his hair and grabbed at his scalp. His eyebrows raised and his eyes were wide and staring at the floor of the tent. "This isn't happening." He said as his voice cracked. "No, this isn't real. I must be having a nightmare or - something." 
Nym stared at him with concern. He looked like he had one foot in the looney bin. "RAHH I said I'm sorry and it's okay that you're toothy and bitey." She snipped. For some reason, Nym felt too comfortable around this creature who could easily rip her throat out. He was just too silly for her to be scared of, for the most part. 
He took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale. "Astarion."
"A'staring at what? I'm sorry I'll look away." Said Nym, turning her head sideways to make him feel more comfortable.
"No, you blubbering idiot. That's my name. My name's Astarion." He quipped.
"Oh - uh - haha. So can I look at you or...?" She asked him genuinely.
"If a wall were nearby, I would smash my head against it." 
"Why would you do that? There are lots of trees behind your tent. And a big boulder if I remember correctly."
Astarion just stared at her, mouth agape and brows knitted together.
There was an awkward silence and it made Nym quite uncomfortable.
"I should go." She started to get up to walk out of the tent but Astarion grabbed her shoulder. 
"Wait!" He realized that he may have sounded a bit too desperate. With an intentionally lower tone, he spoke to her calmly while tilting his head down and looking at her through his black eyelashes. "Look. I just need more details on what you found out about me, please."
Nym turned back around to face him, still wearing his brown blanket like a cloak. "Oh! Well, I might have concluded that you are a vampire. But it confuses me a lot that you can walk in the sun so..." She paused.
Astarion fakely smiled and exhaled "Ah, okay. Glad we've cleared that up. Is there any chance that you could keep those pretty lips of yours shut about this specific topic with the others? You see, I would much rather break the news myself if I can."
Nym looked at him as if he had accused her of doing something she didn't do. "I wasn't planning on telling anyone. I think I realized that you're not dangerous - well, not dangerous to us at least." Her voice calmed with each word in her statement. 
"What?" He looked at her, shocked. "I'll have you know I am very dangerous, actually." He enunciated every syllable of the last word pointedly and smiled.
"Hmm, but you wouldn't hurt me! Right?" Nym asked with a shit-eating grin on her face.
Astarion pursed his lips to the side and held his chin with a finger as he thought about this question. "Hmm." He let go of his chin and then looked Nym up and down with a cheeky smirk. "Not unless you want me to," he leaned in close to Nym, almost brushing his lips on her ear, "darling."
Nym's face turned red as a tomato. "I'm not quite sure what you mean by that," she exclaimed.
"I recall you biting me without asking, dear." He snaked his right hand to the back of her head, fingers gently running through her hair. "Do you remember what I told you?"
Nym gulped and looked at Astarion with a mixture of fear, confusion, and lust. "To ask before I bite."
"Good girl. Now it would only be right of me to follow my own rules, correct?" Astarion asked in a sultry voice. He started rubbing the back of Nym's head, massaging her scalp.
Nym's head lolled back. Her eyes closed and she let out a deep sigh of pleasure. "Mmm yeah." She practically moaned as she leaned more into his hand that was massaging her head both thoroughly and tenderly. 
"So, Nym, what do you say? Can I bite you? I only need a taste, I swear."
Nym was entranced by his massaging. "You can do whatever you want, Orion - or whatever your name was." 
Astarion then slowly removed his hand from Nym's scalp and rested it on her shoulder. "Whatever I want? Darling, are you sure about this? We might get carried away. We've only just met."
Nym smiled and sighed happily. She looked at Astarion with a restful gaze. "Where I'm from, stuff like that doesn't really matter. I'm a wood elf, I'm sure you've heard about our ways." She reached a hand out from under the blanket that was cloaking her and rested it on his shoulder, mirroring him. "But of course, I would only want to do things if you wanted to as well. I mean, I might still want to if you don't want to but that obviously doesn't mean you have t-" he shushed her with a finger on her mouth and she looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?" He asked, trying his best to not sound like a dick without beating around the bush.
She spoke through her fingered lips. "Yeah, people actually usually say that I talk too much, but I think they're jus-" Astarion silenced her with a bruising kiss. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in as he climbed to his knees above her. 
He broke the kiss with a pop and then licked his lips as he looked down at her. He smirked. 
She was looking back up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. 
"You know, I rather like you, my dear. A lot." He said to her in a surprisingly genuine tone. "Now how about we make ourselves comfortable." He gestured to his bedroll.
"Oh! Yes!" She answered. She threw the blanket that was covering her back sloppily and then hurried to the bedroll, her breasts swaying as she climbed on all fours towards her destination. She hesitated for a moment. "Wait, do you want me on top or do you want to be on top?"
He felt a rush in his lower abdomen that made his cock twitch. There was something about a woman who felt so comfortable and confident in her skin that stirred something in him. "My sweet, if you wouldn't mind lying beneath me, I would be delighted. It will also help when I'm tasting your life's essence. We wouldn't want you toppling over, would we?"
"Right." She scooted to the bedroll and lay on her back. 
Astarion mounted her and nudged her supple thighs open with his knee. He pushed her legs up to expose her core, positioning himself fully between her legs. He sat there on his knees for a moment, taking her in. His eyebrows canted up in a frown. Gods, she was adorable. Her body was perfect. She got on his nerves a lot today but he respected her openness with him. He couldn't help but admit to himself that her silliness was extremely endearing as well. It wasn't often that he would meet someone charming in the way that Nym was. He desperately wanted her blood but he also had an urge to make her feel good, to make her whimper his name. 
Nym was blushing a deep red beneath him. She glared up at him and bit her lip. Her arms were to her sides, in cactus pose. She intuitively trusted him so deeply that she exposed her most vulnerable parts to him, willingly. 
They had only just met that day and now, in the night when everyone slept, they were about to become one. One of Nym's top 3 activities, to be sure. 
Astarion snaked down to Nym's pelvis with his head, squeezing her thighs in his wake. Nym let out a quiet mewl and looked at him desperately. 
"Tell me if you want me to stop, darling" he asserted, and hovered his mouth over her pussy, waiting for her response.
"Of course, love." She managed to say despite her eagerness to be ravished. 
"Perfect." Astarion cooed. He immediately licked a thick stripe through her folds and kissed her clit, which caused Nym to throw her head back and moan. This encouraged him further to start teasing her clit with his tongue. She arched her back and started wildly bucking herself onto his tongue. He held her down to gain control and she groaned in both pleasure and frustration. 
"Careful, dear, I have sharp teeth." He grinned at her for a moment and locked eyes with her. Her face was twisted with pleasure. "Be a good girl and try to hold still."
"Mmhm" she moaned out and clenched around nothing at his teasing. 
He continued his ministrations on her cunt and he tasted a gush come from her hole. He groaned into her clit as he sucked on it mercilessly. He inserted a finger as he teased her nub with his tongue and she clenched around his digit. 
"Hmm stuff me more, please, baby." She pleaded to him. She was experienced, and so was he. She knew how to tell him what she needed and wanted. The thought made his cock twitch and grow even larger in his unlaced pants. 
Not wanting to slow his mouth, he didn't say anything and simply added a second finger to her hole. She choked out a moan and her pelvis started to become more unruly under his grasp.
He curled his fingers and pumped them into her at a consistent pace while playing with her clit with his tongue. The tips of his digits stroked her spongy wall, driving her crazy. 
She gritted her teeth and groaned through them, glancing down at Astarion. She gently brushed her fingers in his hair to encourage him and he grunted into her core again.
Her legs tensed and her breath picked up to a runner's pace. "I'm gonna cum! Astarion!" She moaned loud enough for the whole camp to hear. This certainly wasn't something she was shy about, he thought.
He continued fucking her with his hand and licking her clit as she rode out her orgasm.
"Ahh! Too much! No more, please!" She sweetly hissed. 
"Good girl, you are so good at following instructions." He crawled his arms to either side of her and came up to kiss her tenderly. "And I'm surprised you remembered my name, darling. I'm impressed." He jested. He pushed down his pants just enough for his large member to spring out and rest on her soaking cunt.
"Hmph" she let out a huff of air. "Well certainly don't have the will to protest you right now." She retorted. Her hands rested at the sides of her head. Her chest heaved with breathlessness.
Astarion admired her form and her face. He would’ve said that he wished he had noticed her beauty sooner, but - well, he had only met her today.
"Mmm you can stare if you want but," she wriggled her hips against his cock which caused his eyebrows to knit and his mouth to form an "O". He choked out a whine. 
"Oh, you cheeky little pup." He cooed
"I remember you calling me 'kitty', actually." She teased and smirked at him.
"You're gonna pay for that." He stated as reached for his shaft and aligned himself with her core. He pushed the head of his cock into her tight hole with a grin on his face.
She let out a high-pitched moan and her face twisted into a needy expression.
She was incredibly wet and tight. He slowly entered her and she started twirling her hips sensually. He eased into her with little effort until he was fully buried to the hilt between her legs and his tip kissed her cervix snugly.
She threw her legs up above his arms and her feet dangled in the air above them. 
He started thrusting into her slowly while leaning his torso closer into her. They both whined and their lips connected in a passionate and messy kiss. Their tongues danced around each other's mouths, fighting for dominance. He unhooked one of her legs from his arm and grabbed her cheeks gently to pry her mouth open further. Her pussy fluttered around his cock at his actions. 
He pulled his mouth from hers. "Does the little druid like it rough?" He teased
"Uhuh," she whined. "Choke me, please!" She begged.
He groaned excitedly at her lewd suggestion. This moment made him realize how good it felt to be in control, even if it was only an illusion. Even when the other person wanted it. Especially when the other person wanted it. It was something he had deeply craved for centuries, but he never had the opportunity to have any control over any aspect of his life. Maybe things were about to get better for him, despite their condition.
He snaked his hand towards her throat. He remembered what it felt like to be strangled. He could certainly understand the appeal, under the right circumstances and if done safely of course.
"Take a deep breath, dear." He smirked as he consistently rutted into her core.
Nym took a deep breath as if she had done this before and she "knew the drill" so to speak. He then grasped the sides of her throat firmly and she tightened violently around his cock.
"What a good little druid, you are." He started thrusting into her faster and harder, using his grip on her throat to push her into his pelvis with unrelenting force. He slightly straightened the arm that was at her throat and lifted his torso from her. He placed his other hand on her clit and started rubbing.
Nym's face started to become a darker red than her typical blush, and she groaned. Her leg muscles were showing the signs of an impending orgasm. Her back arched off the bedroll and he slammed into her throbbing cunt remorselessly. 
"I'm coming again, Astarion!" She choked out her cries of pleasure as she came with his hand around her throat. He continued playing with her clit as he removed his hand from her throat and the flush on her skin began to fade ever so slightly. He hooked her right leg over his left shoulder. She was still fluttering around his shaft as he bent over her, tilted her head to the side roughly with a strong grasp on either cheek and sunk his fangs into her flesh. He removed his hand from her cheeks and used it to grab the back of her head.
He groaned needily into her neck as he fucked her, his pace faltering slightly. Her blood was delectable. This was the best gift he had ever gotten, and he was sure to not forget it.
Astarion felt Nym wriggling to free her clit from his abuse, so he removed that hand from her and then propped himself up on his elbow. Nym choked out a moan and she snaked her arm around to caress his soft white curls. He was so gorgeous. He was undoubtedly the most beautiful man she had ever bedded, and that was saying a lot because she had bedded many men before, sometimes at the same time, all of whom were very attractive. 
For some reason, letting him sup from her felt wholesome. As if she was helping a dear friend in need. 
Astarion was taking languid gulps of her blood, savouring the divine flavour as it coated his tongue and throat. He grasped the back of her head with a strong hand to hold her steady, all while fucking her drenched hole raw. 
"Can you cum inside me, baby?" Nym asked, hoping he was still with it enough to hear her request.
Astarion groaned an "Uhuh" into her throat. Wet slapping noises and moans filled the camp until Astarion did one final snap into Nym's core as he drank from her neck. He filled her with his seed to the brim. He did a few more shallow sensual thrusts until he stilled. He had yet to unlatch himself from Nym's throat.
Nym started to feel light-headed and weak, so she knew that it was time to request for him to stop; that is if he could control himself.
"Stary, baby. Please - stop." She cooed gently at him and tugged tenderly at the curls on the nape of his neck. 
Astarion took one last gulp and then he found the will to tear himself from her, panting instinctively. He craned his head into her neck and made sure to not waste a drop of her blood. He cleaned her up with his tongue, and he kissed her neck lovingly. 
"Mmm," Nym cooed as she rotated her hips around Astarion's still-hard cock which had yet to exit her.
He grunted, lifted his head from her neck, grabbed her hips with both hands and then thrust into her. He placed his hand at the nape of her neck and pulled her into a sloppy, exhausted kiss. Nym moaned at that, and their lips flew apart. They looked one another in the eye affectionately.
"As much as it would be nice to continue, I fear I will be too sore for tomorrow if we plan on doing this again." Nym sighed.
"It seems you are as eager as I, you sweet thing." He finally pulled himself out of Nym and they both sighed. "Now, kitty, shall I grab your blankets and tuck you in to spend the rest of your night entranced next to me? After we clean you up, of course." 
Nym blushed and fought back a grin that was growing on her face. "I really fucking like you. You're my favourite." She said with a cheeky smile, beneath him.
"The feeling is quite mutual, darling. If you couldn't tell already." He exclaimed and then placed a peck on her forehead before giving her head a little scratch. "Right, then, I'll be right back." 
Astarion tucked himself into his pants and laced them up. He nicked his best handkerchief and set out to find the kettle next to the fire. The water was warm, but not hot. He soaked his handkerchief and rang it out. He brought the damp fabric back to his tent. "Hello, there." He smiled. 
"Hi, Astarion. Long time, no see!" She giggled at her own joke. 
"You are quite the silly one. I'm becoming very fond of that laugh of yours."  Astarion stated, genuinely.
"Hmm well, you make me giggle a lot, too, if you haven't noticed." She winked at him and smirked.
"Oh, I make all sorts of sounds come out of you, apparently." He teased her, "Now let me help you wash up, sweet love."
She laughed again and she let him help her get cleaned up. It was a tender moment between two strangers who had sought comfort in the form of connection. Nym believed that moments like these were just as nature intended. That was how she was raised, and those were the teachings of Silvanus. 
Astarion tenderly wiped Nym clean with his soft cloth, making sure to be both thorough and gentle. Nym turned to face her bum to him and he used his free hand to briefly massage her backside. This gesture felt more sensual rather than sexual. Nym hummed into the feeling and pushed into his touch.
Astarion grinned, feeling satisfied with his efforts. He then left the tent again to rinse his cloth in the river and hang it up outside his tent in a somewhat obscured location. He stalked over to Nym's tent to gather her belongings, which there were few of. He managed to snag a couple of blankets, a pillow, and an unopened glass bottle of water.
He strode back to his tent, where Nym resided, and opened the tent flap with his hand that was holding the water bottle. "I have come with all the fixings, love. I hoped that you had had more blankets. It seems as though we will have to add it to our shopping list." He stated.
"We? Oh, it would be so pleasant to have someone's assistance with that. I've been finding this whole "leader" thing quite overwhelming." Nym awkwardly laughed and then frowned.
"Well, apologies. I should have offered to help you sooner. I may be a monster but I'm not a bum. I can't say the same for our other "companions", however." he quipped.
Nym rolled over on her back and smiled at Astarion, brightly. "You're not a monster, you're just a bit toothy. I can be toothy sometimes, and I don't think I'm a monster."
"Hmm well you are only slightly devious so I suppose they would make an exception in the Guide to Monsters." He smirked at her before undressing himself fully.
"Oh, stop. You love me." She jested.
"Maybe a little, I do have a thing for pretty morsels with claws." He attentively and tactfully placed each blanket atop one another. He kneeled beside her head. "Up." He gestured. She lifted her head slightly and he tucked her pillow under it. 
He opened the blankets and crawled in next to her. She was lying on her back with her eyes closed and her hands rested on her ribcage lazily. He nudged and caressed her cheek with his knuckle and then ghosted a thumb over her lips. She turned to face him and opened her eyes. Her hand snaked up to his ear and she stroked it softly. He closed his eyes at the affection, and then he sighed.
He couldn't remember how long it had been since someone touched him with so much affection. His closed eyes started watering at the thought, but he quickly pushed the thought aside and regained his composure. Fortunately, he had been able to avoid having Nym see his sudden emotion at her touch. It was better that he have a conversation with her about that once they had become more well-acquainted. For now, he tried to just enjoy this tender moment between him and his newfound friend. 
They lay entwined with one another, trancing until the sun came up. 
Despite their predicament, they both almost felt it a blessing that they had found one another. The bond that had begun forming between them felt powerful, in a way that could make both of them stronger. This was a good thing. 
Comfort can be a good thing.
Read part 2
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nackrosor · 10 months
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~Midnight Healing~
𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻
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[I highly recommend to put this song on repeat as background music. It will help set the mood.]
warnings/tags: 18+ smut, p*rn with feelings & plot, unexperienced reader, first kiss, first time, oral s*x (fem receiving), p in v, soft Ghost, slow dance, mutual pining, slight angst/comfort, Soap being the best mate, the team being supporting in their own way lmao, cap. price approved 👌🏻 summary: You're at the pub, enjoying a night out with your team. The soothing lulling music, the booze, Johnny's taunts and your own repressed feelings embolden you to invite Simon to join you in a slow dance. The dance leads to long overdue confessions which in turn lead to your first time together. word count: 12.5k. (longest one yet)
A special and huge thank you to my dear @magnoliabutters who has helped me SO MUCH. You've given me so many suggestions that inspired me to write the best possible version of this story. I probably would have given up halfway through if it wasn't for your support. I love you and appreciate you a lot. ♥️
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You close your eyes and take a deep breath, elbows resting on the smooth surface of the counter with a thumb circling the cold rim of your half-full glass of bourbon. The soothing blues music playing in the background adds to your sense of calm, with notes vibrating through your limbs, echoing in your ribcage, and clearing your thoughts. You let yourself be lulled by the soft melancholy tune, quietly humming along and rocking your head in rhythm. 
Given your job as a task force officer, you rarely get a breather and a chance to enjoy a night out. It is a luxury for you and that is what makes it so special, a time to truly look forward to. Especially when you can share it with your brothers in arms, your family, not bonded by blood but by a profound feeling born through shared hardships and nurtured by trust, respect and understanding. One would imagine you'd prefer to spend your free nights alone or with different people, perhaps even a one-night lover, rather than with your coworkers, the very same guys you spend your entire days with, through sweat and tears, anger and frustration, and occasionally a moment of respite. This is exactly the reason why you wouldn’t dare unwind with anyone else; they are everything for you, the sole people you trust and you would gladly give your life for without hesitation. Why would you need anybody else? 
Seeing them loosen up for one night, just enough to treat themselves to a pint or a glass of whiskey is such the delight. You wouldn’t even need to chug a drink of your own to feel the tension leave your body, finally allowing yourself to relax. 
This time is no exception. Same place, same company, same feeling of being exactly where you need to be, of needing literally nothing else in the world.
"Enjoying yourself?" 
Soap's voice sounds clear in your ear and interrupts your blues-induced trance. A lazy smile greets you as you turn to look up at him. He settles down on the barstool next to you.
"Yeah… I love this music. It feels like a lullaby but instead of making me want to sleep, it makes me want to move, you know? "
"Sounds like you want to hit the dance floor! Care to give us a show?" 
"Wouldn't you like that!" 
You smirk at him, bumping your shoulder against his.
"Who wouldn’t?” he returns the nudge, playfully winking at you, “But I know someone who would particularly enjoy it, more than anybody else."
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. Every time you come to the pub, you can't avoid one or two, occasionally three, drunken brash males hitting on you or simply gluing their eyes on you from afar, never stopping for the entire time you're here. You'd think that being literally surrounded by four menacing - some more than others - muscular men would prevent anyone from ever looking your way twice, especially weak-minded misogynists who don't believe a woman could take care of herself… That clearly isn't the case. Go figure! These people have no sense of shame or… self-preservation. 
"What ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude is staring at me this time?" 
A chuckle escapes him. He shakes his head as he swirls the liquid in his glass before taking a sip. 
“No ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude , just a possibly ugly dude.”
"Oh?" a wry smile takes form on your lips, "well, I could get behind that."
"He's been throwing some not-so-sneaky glances your way ever since we arrived."
"Yeah?”, you ask, taking a quick glance around the room. “Coordinates, Sergeant. Don’t leave me in the dark."
Soap's eyes glint mischievously as he subtly nods to your left, then raises his glass to his lips to take another sip and mask his grin. You follow the trajectory of his nod, gaze skimming the whole length of the counter, overlooking the serene faces of Gaz, Laswell, the captain, until it locks on a familiar pair of big dark eyes. The smirk on your lips immediately falters and your stomach flips. 
Simon is holding your gaze, seemingly unfazed, arms folded across his chest and muscles flexing under his black windbreaker. No matter how accustomed you are to seeing him in his casual attire, your heart always loses a beat whenever your eyes land on him. The way his skull balaclava hugs his face and the way the hood of his dark grey sweatshirt is all the way up, hiding his head, make his mesmerising eyes circled with black make-up even more striking and thus much more lethal to your poor weak heart. You’re so attracted to him, so infatuated… you’ve never felt this inexorable pull toward anyone before. It’s like a new form of gravity, so strong that you can’t even avert your gaze; it takes too much effort, like going against the laws of nature. 
Soap’s giggle draws you back from the trance. Your eyes dart around aimlessly for a moment before you whip around to glare at your friend.
“You’re a bastard.”
He shrugs innocently, that stupid grin of his still tugging at his lips.
"You saw it for yourself, he was staring."
"Yeah, 'cause he probably heard you or read your lips or… something."
"Right,” he says with a scoff, elongating the word. “Didn’t know superman was part of the 141…"
His mocking tone makes you roll your eyes. Grabbing your glass, you bring it to your lips and savour the sensation of the cool, sweet but strong liquid flowing down your throat. As you knock the empty glass back onto the counter, you catch a glimpse of Ghost. Fortunately, this time he appears to be engaged in discussion with Price, providing you with the green light that allows your wistful gaze to linger on him, unnoticed. 
"Well, you must admit that…”, you mutter almost to yourself, eyes reverently roaming his figure, “...if anyone had superpowers in our team, it would definitely be him." 
"Heh. You certainly look at him as if he already has them."
Johnny interrupts your reveries again and you shake your head, tearing your eyes away from Simon and trying to clear your mind in the process. "Stop it. He's just, he's-" 
"He's single, for all I know." 
The sergeant shrugs again with an innocent smile as you give him the stink-eye.
"You’re a menace ."
You poke him hard in the ribs, causing him to wince and almost spill his drink. You both can’t help but laugh.
“I swear if you told him or anyone anything… I'll strangle you in your sleep.”
“Mmm, so passionate, y/n. He’s gonna love that.”
You roll your eyes again, yet can't help but smile.
Soap is your best mate; you're closer to him than the rest of the squad, which is saying a lot given how close the team is. You may or may not have let your feelings for Simon slip during a private conversation one night at the HQ while you were a little tipsy, and he's been a little shit about it since then, unwilling to let you live it down. You know it's all in good fun, there's no malice in his words, but his taunts do nothing to help you keep your feelings under control. 
“You should tell him, by the way.”
“We’ve already talked about this, Johnny…”
“I just don’t understand why you’re keeping it to yourself. You scared of getting rejected?”
You shrug, your gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of you as you fidget with it absentmindedly. He struck a nerve. Taking the first step without being absolutely certain that your feelings are reciprocated and thus making a colossal blunder scares the shit out of you. Actually, the mere thought of taking a shot in the dark makes your stomach churn with dread. 
“Y/n, he would never turn you down. Never .”
“You don’t know that.”
Soap scoffs incredulously. “C’mon! You’ve seen the way he looks at you! There’s nothing PG-13 about it.”
He pauses for a moment waiting for your retort but when you don't give him any, he draws conspiratorially close to your ear. “Although, I guess you don’t get to hear what he says about you when it’s just us boys…”
You perk up, turning toward him with a curious and clearly hopeful look on your face. Does he know something you don’t? Or is he messing with you? You can never tell with Soap.
“W-what does he say?”
Soap grins victoriously, undoubtedly pleased with himself for catching you failing, yet again, to hide your stupid little crush. 
"Gave my word that I would keep my mouth shut..."
“Ugh!", you push him away with a hard smack on his arm, "you’re insufferable.”
“Go talk to him and find out on your own. In the unlikely case that what you fear the most happens, any of us smart boys would gladly take his place in your heart, love ."
You shake your head with a scoff, eyes drifting aimlessly to the other side of the room. Turns out, Johnny was trying to get under your skin, as per usual, however you can’t help but mull his words over.
Perhaps he's got a point, perhaps it is time to let it all out in the open and face the consequences , whatever they might be. Johnny said that Simon has talked about you with the guys. It might be nothing, but what if he really has let his own feelings slip during a conversation, just like when it happened to you with Soap? Or perhaps, he had a real heart to heart talk with his mates… 
You have your doubts, but then again why would Johnny mention that he spoke of you? Why would he try so hard to reassure you that Simon would never reject you? Why would he stress out the fact that he often gets caught staring at you? Could your friend be doing this solely for a laugh? No, Johnny is not that kind of person. He cares about you and he clearly understands how much you care about Simon. He would not give you a friendly push merely to watch you fall face first to the ground. There must be some truth behind his jokes and teasing… but are you ready to risk it all to find out? Being rejected isn't the only fear that prevents you from acting on your feelings... 
"Whatever.” You sigh at last, propping yourself up by pushing your palms against the edge of the counter. “I'm here to unwind, not get caught up in my head as usual. So… now, I’m going to dance. And, just to be clear, I'm not doing it for you or Simon or anybody other than myself."
The pointed look you give him makes Soap raise his hands in defeat, however it doesn't wipe that little smirk off his face. The glass grazes his curled up lips as he looks at you with an amused twinkle in his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah… You'll thank me later.”
His words get lost in the rising bustle of the pub; the cacophony of voices and the clatter of glasses gets louder just as the music fills your ears the more you get away from the bar. The soothing tune comes out of two huge amps set at either side of an empty stage, and floods over you, the sole person standing in front of it. You feel a bit self-conscious at first, sensing everyone's eyes on you but you try your best to ignore them. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you focus solely on the music, allowing yourself to be transported by the slow lulling rhythm. 
Soon, you're swaying your hips in time, your feet picking up their own pattern. You don't care about how you're moving, how it may look; all you care about is letting go, setting yourself free, feeling the music pass through you, and being completely in the moment. You dance worry-free, entirely surrendering control of your body to the enthralling and sinuous voice of the electric guitar. Few things are more freeing than dancing like nobody’s watching…
The song comes to an end almost too quickly and so does the enchantment that has seized you. When you open your eyes, chancing a look around you, you immediately meet Simon’s stare. He's still sitting at the bar but now he's turned toward you, back to the polished wood of the counter, one elbow resting on its edge. Clearly he has been watching you the whole time, enjoying the show , as Soap said. You feel a thrill run through you. Perhaps it's the alcohol kicking in, perhaps those feelings pushed deep inside you are finally emerging to the surface. Or is it just the adrenaline of the dancing still holding control over your body? 
Regardless of the answer, you find yourself walking toward him; the initial notes of a new song matching your sultry and unhurried steps. He firmly holds your gaze, but you notice the shifting in his seat as you approach him with renewed confidence.
You stop when you’re right in front of him, a coy smile plays on your lips while you hold out your hand.
"Care to join me?" 
His eyes flicker to your extended palm then wander over your face, as if he's looking for a cue that would tell him whether you're joking or being serious.
"You're outta your mind, princess ."
You raise your eyebrow at the word 'princess'. He knows you don’t like to be called like that but he doesn't seem to care. He keeps using that stupid term, especially when he wants to reprimand you, putting you in your place or just to tease you and get under your skin. But there is something in the way he said it just now, an endearing nuance in his tone that combined with his thick accent makes you melt like chocolate.
"Why? You seemed really interested only a minute ago."
You tease him with a challenging look on your face while you nonchalantly tug down the zip of your biker jacket. After the dance you're feeling a bit flushed, you need to let your skin breathe. No other reason for uncovering your cleavage, right? Definitely not to draw his attention to the deep neckline of your dress. Of course not, why would you do that? 
"I was only-" 
You interrupt him, arms folding across your chest, drawing his eyes even more to the curves of your body. " Enjoying the show , right."
"No.” He counters quickly, his voice loud and clear even over the music. Doesn’t he sound a little nervous? Or are you simply imagining it? 
“I was just… glad to see this carefree side of you. It's a good look on you."
You stare into each other’s eyes, your heart thumping hard in your chest. You didn’t expect to hear him say that.
"Well…”, you bite your lip as you try to ease your racing heart, arms falling back to your sides, “...dancing is very freeing. You should try it."
"I don't think it would work for me."
"Why don't we find out?" 
Shivering just a little, you take another step forward. His head slightly cranes up so that he can keep his piercing gaze on yours. You move your hand on his wrist, fingers wrapping gently around it before giving a little pull in your direction.
"C'mon…", you give him a teasing smile as you step back, head nodding back to the space behind you, “...let’s go.”
Despite your pulling, Simon doesn’t budge a single inch, but you see him hesitate. You keep tugging at his wrist, stepping backwards, even attempting to pout, until he silently relents and stands up, letting you drag him toward the stage at last. You didn't expect him to give up. You thought you'd have to put much more effort into it, or that you'd have to be the one giving up in the end. You're genuinely surprised by the turn of events but you won't let that dent your spirit now. You've just started playing with fire and you can't help but feel the thrill of it, the excitement lighting up inside of you. 
You stop when you reach the spot you previously made your own during your solo dance and turn around to face him. He stands there, tall and motionless, the hood of his sweatshirt still on; he looks so out of place on the dance floor, the sight makes you chuckle.
"Don't worry Si, nobody would dare judge you."
"I don't care about that."
"No?"
With a smile on your face, a gaze fixed on him, you start to sway your hips in sync again. His eyes immediately flicker down to take in your movements. He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he looks like a freaking pole, standing so still in front of you, not moving even one muscle. His whole focus is on you and he seems to particularly enjoy being able to watch you from the best seat in the house.
“You could move your shoulders a little bit, you know? Or even just nod your head in time with the music.”
It’s so evident that he doesn’t know what to do with his body, where to even begin. You almost feel guilty of having dragged him there, of putting him on the spot.
“Here, follow my steps.”
You pick up a simple left-to-right footwork, following the slow but steady rhythm of the drums and encourage Ghost to mirror your motions with a nod and a gentle smile. He studies you, eyes observing your body attentively, picking up every little movement you make. 
He appears quite stiff as he attempts to follow along; his bulky body doesn't seem keen to make him look as graceful on the dancefloor as it does on the battlefield. But he's trying at least, and quickly getting the hang of it.
“That’s it! You’re not half bad, Si!” 
A soft chuckle escapes you as you bite your bottom lip. Seeing him dance - or try to - makes you oddly giddy, euphoric even. It's just such a rare and bizarre thing to see that you can't help but smile wide and enjoy the moment to the fullest.
Raising your arms in the air, you swing your hips and bend your knees as you lower your body to the ground, only to raise up again, twisting your curves like a snake. The thrill of his probing stare piercing you causes you to shudder; his eyes are unwavering, admiring your every move with utmost devotion. Having his undivided attention makes you feel alive, it makes you feel special and bold. 
You take a step closer and reach out to grab both of his hands in yours, your movements mellowing to fit his laid-back rocking. His calloused hands are surprisingly soft and warm as they wrap perfectly around yours, like matching pieces of a puzzle; his touch feels comforting, stable, safe. As you look up at him, eyes locking once again, you feel your heart pound rapidly in your chest. A small smile takes form on your lips to mask the turmoil rising within you.
“This feels… nice, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
Your heart soars upon hearing his answer, smile widening.
“I didn't know you could dance."
"I can't dance”, you correct him with a light chuckle, “I simply enjoy moving my body to the music."
"Never seen you do that before."
"Well, most of you guys don't even like listening to music, so I only get to do it when I'm on my own… which is a rare occurrence since apparently you babies can’t leave me alone for more than one minute."
You squeeze his hands playfully, a cheeky grin playing on your face. You notice his eyes crinkle lightly in response.
"You can use my office, if you want. There's enough room to… move around."
You let out a hearty laugh, head shaking softly. Your eyes lower to the floor for a moment, monitoring the way both your feet move perfectly in sync and at the same time picturing the silly image in your mind.
"You gonna sit at your desk, grumbling over your paperwork while, with music blasting in my ears, I dance like nobody’s watching right in front of you?" 
"Why not,” he says with a shrug.
His voice doesn’t betray his collected demeanour, but you know he’s smiling underneath that mask.
"Well, for one…”, you raise one eyebrow, giving him a knowing look, “I think it would get pretty distracting, rather quickly." You bring your joined hands to the level of your eyes and his chest, slowly interlacing your fingers with his. The muscles of his arms seem to tense for a moment.
"...Fair enough."
"Secondly…”, you trail off, eyes flickering up to meet his serious stare, voice losing a bit of its jovial nuance, “...people might start talking."
"Who cares."
His remark is curt and blunt, and it takes you a bit by surprise. He actually sounds as though he wouldn't care less if your coworkers were to start spreading rumours about you two possibly being... intimate. Or perhaps you're merely grasping at straws. After all, you're talking about dancing. Nothing more, right? 
"You’re telling me that you wouldn’t care what the others may think or say?" your tone is clearly hesitant this time, vulnerable even, eyes frantically searching his, "...watching us dance like this? Being this close?"
He keeps silent for a long moment, gaze boring into yours. His hands then pull on your wrists, tugging you closer to him. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, while your hands fly onto his chest for support as a surprised gasp escapes your mouth.
“How could I give a crap about them or what they think… when I have you here in my arms?”
His straightforward statement catches you off-guard, causing you to stumble upon your feet. It feels like the tables have turned. Your flirtatiousness made him take the bait and now you’re the one who doesn’t know how to act. Your boldness instantly vanishes, it’s as if you never had it in you in the first place. A tardy nervous chuckle slips out of you as you struggle to regain your synced rocking.
“You must’ve had a drink too many, huh Si?”
“Never been more lucid in my life.”
You stare deeply into his eyes, a wild-eyed look on your face, as he firmly holds your gaze. Tension soaks the air around you, you can sense it getting thicker and thicker. Suddenly, there's not a single soul in the pub but you two. Your eyes locked, bodies swaying gently together, lightly brushing against one another. Your heart thumps forcefully against your chest. 
[ 2:26 min .]
… 
I just want to get your head back, baby
Give you all the love I got, for sure
So, baby, if you've got that feeling
You know I wanna give you that midnight healing
Oh, I just want to make love to you all night long
… 
Perhaps it's merely your perception, but the music appears to get louder. The song’s lyrics are now distinctly clear; they echo in your head, tickling your mind like a subtle hint intended specifically for you.
Returning your attention to Simon, you detect a strange glint in his eyes. Did he receive the hint as well? The way his grasp on your waist tightens, palms roving over your sides and drawing you even closer to him, seems to confirm your supposition.
You both seem to lean forward, attracted like magnets, until your faces are merely inches away. The music deafens, slowly making its way into the background, providing the perfect mood for this special moment. Neither of you says a word, instead you let your eyes speak for themselves. Everything around you seems to blur into a negligible mist. Simon has you hypnotised, just as the music did, with the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. As one of his hands slides up to your neck, fingers grazing the soft hollow area just above your pulse point, a sharp shiver travels up your spine. 
The room spins around you. All of a sudden, your heart pounds hard against your chest and in your ears. You sway on your feet with fingers tugging on his jacket to keep your balance. His hands move quickly to your back, to support your body as you shift your weight on him for a moment before catching yourself. You feel hot, dizzy, and out of breath. 
"Y/n?" 
"J-just give me a moment, will you?" You say rather harshly, unable to keep the rising panic and tension out of your voice.
His concerned gaze is the last thing you see before you abruptly pull away and dash back towards the counter, mind buzzing, chest tightening. You notice Soap’s smile drop into a puzzling look as he watches you rush over but before he can ask you anything, you hear Gaz's hesitant voice coming from behind you. 
"What's going on?" 
You throw a quick glance over your shoulder, instantly meeting his perplexed look. Your actions seem to have drawn the attention of Price and Laswell, too; you find both of their gazes set on you. 
You struggle to take deep breaths, your eyes darting aimlessly from one friendly face to another while your hands clutch around the table edges, fingertips turning white. It takes all your efforts to not raise your gaze toward the dance floor and rest it on the man still standing exactly where you have just left him. 
"Nothing! It's all going great!" 
Your voice comes out higher pitched than normal but you try to mask it with the most convincing smile you can muster. 
You turn toward Johnny before you can witness the other's reactions or give them time to question your words. Your friend pierces you with a questioning look that doesn't leave room for lies. 
"I-I think I'm gonna pass out."
He immediately reaches out to place a comforting hand on your arm as he slides his freshly refilled glass towards you.
"You ok? What happened?" 
Your hand shakes as you grab the drink. You rub it to your forehead, cheeks, and neck before moving it to your lips. The cool sensation of the glass against your feverish skin seems to ease your panic, even if only a little. You focus completely on the cold liquid scorching down your throat as you take a long sip. 
You gasp, pulling from the rim of the glass. "Nothing. It's just-" you take another deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut,"...it felt all-too real, all-too quickly, I guess. I'm not entirely sure. I panicked."
"Y/n," he coos softly, gently squeezing your arm, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to-" 
"But that's the point! I want it! We were so close, I mean… you saw it! If it wasn't for the mask, I’m pretty sure he would’ve leaned in for a kiss. I-I felt my heart was about to burst!” The words fall out of your mouth in a nervous rambling. “I wanted to close the distance so bad… that I fucking ran away." A deprecating chuckle escapes you, eyes rolling in disbelief. "I'm so fucking stupid!" 
Johnny squeezes your shoulder again, offering you a genuine smile.
"You are not stupid, y/n... Well, maybe just a little bit." He grins in response to your not-so-convincing glare. "Could a little more privacy help you feel better? You know there are rooms upstairs, you could always go there if you want to..."
You watch as his hand disappears inside his jacket and reappears a moment later, holding a small silver key between his fingers. He holds it out to you and you take it from him mindlessly.
Soap laughs as he detects the mute query in your stunned expression.
"I took it earlier thinking I might get lucky and use it for myself, but it looks like I’m not the lucky one tonight…"
Your gaze darts from your friend's face to the key, then back to him. Your heart starts racing again as the true meaning that small metallic object holds hits you like an unforeseen gunshot to the chest. You let out a loud groan, your hands flying to your face to hide your grimace.
"What is it now?"
"Johnny...", his name falls out of your lips in a sing-songy cry, barely audible above the music and chatter. Lips quivering both in embarrassment and fear for the confession you’re about to make. With a whisper, you share, "I've never been with anyone before... I've never even kissed anyone." You chance a look at your friend through your fingers. "What if I make a fool out of myself in front of Simon? Hell, who am I kidding? I-I already have!"
The astonished expression on Soap's face only aggravates your growing anxiety.
"Creeping Jesus! Y/n… I thought you… uhm, it’s okay-," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, his mouth opening and shutting without emitting a single sound, at least not one that you can hear. His gaze abruptly darts to the side, focusing on something far over your shoulder before moving back to rest on you with a barely concealed alarm. "Ok, take a deep breath, he's coming over."
You only have time to curse under your breath and pull your hands away from your face before you feel a presence behind you that makes every hair on your body stand on end.
When you hear your name being called, you turn warily to face the man standing by your side, stomach twisting as you meet his inquisitive stare. You believe you can also see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, too. 
"Simon, I'm… I'm-"
"She needed some fuel, L.T.!" Soap rushes to your aid, grinning up at Ghost and smacking him on the arm - a little too hard. "She's all good now… right, y/n?" 
He gives you a quizzical look, as if he's asking whether you're ready to handle the situation on your own or if you need more time; at least, that's what you believe he’s trying to convey.
You respond with a feeble nod before your gaze shifts to Simon. You offer him your glass. "A sip?"
He stares at you intently, seemingly studying your face, his expression now unreadable. 
"No."
"A-alright, more for me..." you fake a smile and then guzzle the drink all in one go. You slam the empty glass on the counter as you suck air through your teeth, grimacing at the piercing sensation of the scorching liquor spreading inside your system. Your gaze is drawn to Soap's, and you give him a somewhat confident smile, which he returns with a little wink.
Your hand then moves on its own accord, finding Ghost's large palm and interlacing your fingers with his; the contact sends a chill up your spine. When you look up at him, a ghost of a smile appears on your lips. You're not sure what you're doing or what's going to happen, but you try not to second-guess yourself too much and risk screwing up for the second time in a row.
Taking a step back, away from the counter, you beckon him to follow you.
"Come with me…"
He does not resist your pull. He does not hesitate for even one second. He trails behind you as you lead him up the stairs and to the second floor. 
Neither of you dare utter a single word as you walk through the corridor and come to a door that matches the number on the key Soap gave you. You don't dare glance at him as you walk in, taking in the dim tavern-like atmosphere of the tiny bedroom. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the king size bed in the centre, which takes up most of the space. Your mouth goes dry. You wonder what Simon might be thinking, if the same thoughts that course through your mind are pestering him as well. 
The sound of the door being closed startles you and makes you whirl around. Your gaze immediately captures his, and you gulp under his piercing stare.
With slow heavy steps that mismatch your thundering heartbeat, he walks over to you, stopping only when he’s towering right over you, standing tall in all his imposing height. You keep your gaze levelled in front of you, unable to meet his eyes, however his fingers curl under your chin and nudge your head up, forcing you to face him. 
" Princess… " he murmurs in a low breathy tone, his voice tinged with something akin to irritation, “why are you playing little games with me?”
Your stomach flips again. Of course he’d assume you’ve been messing with him, leading him on; it’s only fair considering the odd behaviour you’ve had all night. And probably not just tonight. 
“I’m not, trust me…”
He pauses for a brief moment, his keen eyes studying your face, possibly looking for proof of your sincerity.
"You brought me here. Why ?" 
"I-I don't know…"
"You don't know?" 
You mentally reprimand yourself for your dumb answer and shake your head in an attempt to dissipate the haze that has settled over your mind.
"I mean, I know why, but-" you try to swallow but your throat is dry. The intensity of his dark eyes boring into yours causes you to stutter, "f-fuck Si, you make me so nervous I can't even think straight!"
Your voice comes out louder than intended and soaked with frustration. Your hand moves on his wrist, tugging at it to pry yourself free from his grasp, but his hold on you does not relent.
"You were dancing for all the pub to see until a minute ago, and I make you nervous?" 
"Yes! Of course! I don't give a damn about those strangers! Why should I? Besides that's not the point! You make me nervous because you are... you are-" 
You shake your head again as you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze averted from his. You know you can't really back down now. You have to tell him the truth but it's damn hard to find the right words to express exactly how you feel. And more than that, to finally find the courage to say them.
You feel like your heart is on the verge of bursting out of your chest.
"You’re someone I really care about, Simon."
His fingers squeeze your chin, urging you to look up, and when you do you notice that his eyes have softened. 
“That made you panic?”
You give him a lopsided smile, but a short-lived one, for your anxieties come tumbling back, slithering into your mind and compelling you to address them, once and for all.
"T-There's something else..."
You want to tell him that you've never been with a man before, that you've never even had your first kiss yet, and that the thought of him, the only man you’ve ever loved, desired , possibly being your first, makes you incredibly nervous and self-conscious. You really want to tell him everything and free yourself of this burden but your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gape up at him, feeling your stomach churn.
Simon waits patiently for you to speak up, his fingers still holding your chin. The soft look he offers you seems to ease your tension a little. 
"I have…”, you draw a sharp breath, "...no experience in this field , if you catch my drift...”. You mutter those few words in a small voice as your face twists into a grimace. 
Your confession hangs in the air for what feels like eternity, your heart seems to have stopped beating altogether. 
"I know."
“Wha-?!”
You are completely thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone.
"H-how? Why-" you stutter, mouth gaping, your eyes wide. How could he know? You've never told anybody, not until a few minutes ago. But he couldn't have heard you, could he? That would be impossible. 
"Is it really so fucking obvious?" 
"No.” 
In stark contrast to yours, his voice sounds cool and collected. His fingers graze your skin as they move up from your chin to your cheek. "I figured you had no idea how this worked when suddenly you’re lacking your usual confidence and turning into a bloody school-girl. It threw me off at first. I thought you didn’t want this…”
" Hell…”, your head slowly shakes in disbelief, eyes darting to the side. 
Suddenly you don’t know if you should feel relieved, ashamed or sorry for it all. Your own body chooses for you, opting for an odd mix of the three; shoulders slumping, mind buzzing, you stare into space while his words sink in. 
So he's been into you the whole time but your mixed signals, caused by your stupid anxieties, have made it look like you were not into him? Or that you were just playing with him? Seriously? What kind of shitty B-rated rom com is this? 
" So , you've never been held by a man.” Simon’s calm voice draws you back to the moment, his fingers taking hold of your chin once again. “ Blimey . Is that what makes you so nervous?" 
"Is it really not a problem for you?" you ask out of genuine curiosity, brows furrowing as your eyes meet his.
Simon’s scoff almost turns into a hearty laugh as he holds your gaze, eyes crinkling.
"No man has ever put their filthy hands on you and I should be - what? Sad? Disappointed? For God's sake, princess..."
He shakes his head, fingertips taking better hold of your jaw as he leans down.
“You and your worries…” His tone is almost scolding but playfully so, eyes studying every feature of your face. “Stop thinking so much, you numpty . It’s not good for you.”
“Tell me something I don’t know…”, you let out a long shuddering breath, in an attempt to let go of the lingering worry still tightening your throat, "I just… don't want to fuck this up, Si. You mean too much to me..."
He hums softly. 
Silence engulfs you. A silence tinged with renewed tension. Not the type of tension that fuels your anxieties but the kind that makes you warm inside. Soft distant notes coming from downstairs fill the room, washing over you in a soothing yet electric wave, reminding you of the dance you shared, of how close you were and the desire that was rising, burning hot, inside of you. 
Just like a magnet the attraction between you and Simon grows. 
His free hand moves on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and just like before, out of instinct, your hands land on his chest. He holds your chin high, his gaze piercing straight to your heart.
"Do you want me to kiss you?" 
You bite your lip, surprised by his forwardness, a nervous giggle shaking through you. "What kind of question is that-"
"Do you want me to kiss you, princess?" 
He asks a second time with a more serious tone that makes your nervous giddiness fade. Looking deep into his eyes, you take a long breath to ease your racing heart, or at least attempt to.
"Y-yeah, I want you to kiss me."
His hand moves over yours resting on his chest, and guides it up to his neck. 
"Pull up my mask, uncover my mouth. Only my mouth."
You stop breathing altogether, heart jumping in your throat. 
"Y-You want me to do it?" 
"Aye."
Touching his mask, pulling it up to uncover his face feels like such an intimate gesture… Your eyes roam reverently over his newly uncovered skin as your fingers gently peel up the fabric of his balaclava, until his mouth is completely exposed to your sight and you can let your adoring gaze truly linger for the first time. You’ve caught glimpses of his face before, his chin looking vaguely familiar for the few times you’ve seen Simon drink or eat in front of you and the team. But that’s all it has ever been: glimpses. You’ve never been allowed to study his clean-shaved chin and alluring mouth like you are now, from so up close.
"You have pretty lips…"
Your comment slips out of your mouth before your mind could register it and you grimace out of embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, that was-" 
Words die on your tongue as soon as you feel his hand firmly squeeze your jaw. Your eyes immediately dart to his, which bore into yours. Slowly - breathtakingly slow, he draws closer until his lips hover inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You swallow dry. In a heartbeat he closes the distance, kissing you gently, softly but with a clear, barely-withheld passion. 
You respond to the kiss after a moment of stun. The contact of his lips on yours feels like a soft dream at first, one that seizes your mind in a haze and makes you walk on cloud nine, and then grows in force, as if Simon can't contain his desire any longer.
Your lips part and his tongue slips into your hot mouth, eager to explore this new territory. You moan in the kiss and meet him in a twisting dance of control. 
Every move comes surprisingly natural to you, as if you’ve done this a million times before.
His hand travels down from your back to your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive squeeze, then slips even lower to lift your short black dress at its edges and tug it upward just enough to expose the back of your thighs. He doesn't waste time when moving his hand onto that newly uncovered area, kneading the tight flesh there as he bends forward, causing you to arch your back and latch your hands around his neck. Bodies tucking closer. 
You take a deep breath as you slightly pull away, lips still grazing his, your hot breaths merging together. 
All the words you thought would play out in your head in such an important moment are now nowhere to be found. Instead, it’s all just a feeling of rightness between you and him. None of your fantasies could have ever prepared you for a feeling so… intoxicated. 
"Simon…", you usher in a barely audible whisper, slipping your hand under his jacket and feeling his muscles tense under your wandering touch. His lust clouded eyes search yours, his chest heaving hard, hands pressing against you and relenting a second later, as if he’s trying to restrain himself. 
"...I want you to be my first."
A guttural sound comes out of his mouth at your words, his fingers spread again on your ass cheek, squeezing it hard and causing you to whimper. His gaze seems to get darker and he draws closer once more, teeth grazing your bottom lip, nibbling at it. 
"Are you sure?" 
"Positive."
And just like that, as if a barrier has been finally lifted, his lips crush onto yours once more but harder, hungrier than the first time. In one swift motion he yanks the biker jacket off your shoulders and tosses it on the floor. You instantly match his eagerness, returning the favour; his own windbreaker dropping at your feet. 
Before your mind can register what’s happening, you find yourself back against the wall, your shoulder blades hitting the hard surface in an audible thud. You feel your guts twist as heat starts to pool in your belly. 
Your lips are still connected, unwilling to separate. His hands dive on your hips, the thin fabric of your flared dress creases under his ravenous groping. One hand slides down, curling up the hem and slipping underneath, meeting the side of your bare upper thigh. His palm closes around it, firmly, possessively as he lifts your leg up to his hip; you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find a red mark on your skin later, nor would you be displeased. You moan in his mouth in response and let your own hands wander on his body, blindly scanning the muscles of his torso from above his sweatshirt, only to slide lower and lower, until you find its edges and curl them up. Your fingers sneak under the fabric, meeting the smooth skin of his abdomen; his muscles tense up at the teasing contact. Your palms climb up his abs, his pecks, committing the tactile sensation of every inch of his taut torso to memory. 
As you both pull away, gasping for air, you let your eyes fall to where your hands disappear under his clothes; you want to look at him, feast your hungry eyes on his naked body but before you can do it yourself, Simon grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and pulls it off his head, adding it to the rest of your discarded clothes. However, he doesn’t give you time to take his bare chest in, for he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up like you weigh nothing at all, walks you over to the bed and drops you on the mattress. 
Only at this moment are you allowed to let your eyes wander over the muscles of his torso, probably the only part of his body you've already had the pleasure of seeing in the past, although mostly in not so pleasant times, when he needed to be patched up. This time it's totally different. Your hungry gaze devours every inch of him, glinting in twisted pleasure when it meets the scars that you remember having tended to yourself. 
You're too eager to touch him again to keep laying there waiting. Quickly throwing your boots off the side of the bed, you crawl on your knees toward him, hands latching on the inseam of his trousers to unzip them. In the meantime he yanks his own boots off his feet and out of the way, with eyes glued to yours. 
When you're done with his zip, before you can tug his jeans down, he pushes you back on the mattress and joins you on the bed, settling himself on top of your body, knees resting at either side of your legs. 
“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time.”
The way his raspy voice breaks a little as he ushers his confession makes your stomach twist.
“Do w-what, exactly?”
His hands move on your collarbone, peeling the thin straps of your dress and your bra off your shoulders. You allow him to tug them down your chest as you look up at him with nothing but unyielding passion. His eyes wander over your freshly uncovered breasts and you can see his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw setting hard. 
He takes a moment to answer, staring down at you, perhaps struggling to give voice to something that has been swirling against the recesses of his mind for quite some time. 
“Push you on a bed, pin your body under mine and… taste you.”
A sharp shiver runs up your spine at his words, heart skipping a beat. 
One of his palms closes around your breast, firmly squeezing the soft flesh, while the other lifts the skirt of your dress up to your stomach. Without missing a beat he bends down beneath your thighs and presses his mouth against your panties, just above your lower belly. 
“Oh!”
Your hips buck up on their own at the sudden stomach-churning contact. His free hand moves to rest on your upper thigh, pressing your body back against the mattress. 
"This is uncharted territory, innit?"
"I-It is, Lieutenant…", you match his playful tone even though your voice is but a mere whisper, struggling to get out in between your ragged breaths, "...nobody has yet claimed that path..."
You hear him hum in appreciation and you feel his voice too, vibrating against your core.
"Don't mind if I do."
You take a sharp breath as you feel his lips press against you again, only lower this time, teasing your most sensitive part. The thin fabric of your underwear does nothing to muffle the intense touch and yet the obstacle irritates you, you want it out of the way and Simon seems to share your feelings. Both his hands move on your hips, grabbing the hem of your panties and sliding them down and off your legs. A thrill curses through your whole body at the sight of your undies being tucked inside the back pocket of his jeans. Simon’s eyes crinkle lightly as they watch your reaction, lips curving into a smirk.
You don’t really care about them now, whether he’s planning on returning them or making you walk out of here butt naked. All your attention is drawn to the cool breath blowing against your delicate skin, turning hot only a second later as Simon leans closer, until you feel his lips meet your heat and cause you to whimper. The cloth of his mask grazing against your folds only adds to the stimulating touch.
His hot tongue swipes up your core once, twice, with hands spreading you wider for him to reach every inch of you. Another slow stripe from your entrance up to your clitoris and your body shakes in ecstasy. He latches his lips to you and starts to suck hard, swirling his tongue around your nub and dragging it up and down along your wetness. 
He said it. He wanted to taste you. And that is exactly what he’s doing, with no hesitation whatsoever, nor waste of time. You’re already a quivering mess beneath him, pathetic whines falling from your parted lips, hands closing in fists as fingers dig into the sheets. 
“F-Fuck, Simon…”
You feel his soft chuckle against you; it drives you mad. 
He shifts from his position, lips pulling away as he grabs the back of your thighs to tug you closer and pin your spread legs to your stomach. You chance a look at him through your heavy lidded eyes. His lips and chin are wet with your juices, the sight ignites a fire inside you that you’ve never felt before. The way you’re spread for him, your privateness so thoroughly exposed for the first time in your life… you thought that you’d be embarrassed, that you’d be awfully shy to show yourself like this, especially to him. You do sense a faint tightness in your stomach and a warmth spreading in your face, yet there’s another feeling prevailing over the rest. A feeling that surges from Simon himself; the way he leans back down, hands travelling up your body to grab your breasts, the way he’s devouring you like a starved man, the way he’s taking care of you, making sure to pleasure you, to make you feel good… It allows no room for awkwardness or discomfort, only a warm pervasive and soothing feeling of pure care and devotion to wash over you and envelope you whole. 
The lewd sound of his mouth working against you has long prevailed over the music and it only seems to grow in tone the more the tightening of the heat in your belly grows in intensity. You feel it coming, the high is close. Your hands fly toward him, landing on his head. You grab his mask, tug at it, feeling it slip from its place, then you freeze abruptly, as soon as you realise what you’re doing. You look down again, instantly meeting Simon’s hard stare. A strange glint passes over his eyes; he seems to ponder something for a moment then come to a final decision. In a few dismissive moves, he pulls away from you, grabs the dark fabric curled under his nose and yanks it off his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor. 
Your heart is sent into a frenzy. It no longer knows what to do; whether it should keep thundering in your heart for the intense and building pleasure or stopping altogether for the shock of what you have just witnessed. Your wide eyes wander toward him, curious and hesitant at the same time but they only catch a glimpse of his bare face before he disappears between your legs once again, latching his mouth on you even more greedily than before, possibly feeling more free in his movements without the mask impediment. You want to watch him, stare at him as he drives you to heaven but your head falls back on the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and back arching sharply as a wave of skin-crawling chills sets your entire body aflame. It is nothing like the orgasms you’ve had before, when you touch yourself. This is a new feeling; it’s intense, it goes to your head, it makes you dizzy and wordless. It makes you feel loved. 
Simon keeps moving against you, tongue curling at your entrance, gathering up the fruits of his hard work. His hands still pinning your thighs close to your stomach, fingers digging in your soft flesh as he eases your shakes. 
Your mind is still struggling to come out of the haze when your hand blindly travels down in search of him. Fingers tug at his short locks of hair, urging him to come up to meet you. He lingers a moment longer to press a soft kiss on your swollen bundle of nerves, then on your lower belly and between your breasts as he makes his ascent. Finally he faces you, eyes meeting again. 
If your body wasn't already heavily overwhelmed, the sight of his beautiful sharp features would send all your senses into overdrive. 
He looks at you so openly, dark eyes twinkling with adoration and what you can only read as vulnerability, that you find yourself unsure of how to act. 
Would this special moment turn awkward if you were to make a comment on his looks? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Removing his mask must take such an effort… you don’t want to risk making this more stressful for him. You opt for keeping your comments to yourself, at least for now. 
Instead, you let your hand rest on his face, caressing his skin, softly, slowly, as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world and you have to handle it with utmost care. You hope that by doing this you can show him and reassure him that everything is ok, nothing has changed, surely not for the worse. That you deeply appreciate the fact that he decided to let his guards down, to be vulnerable with you. That’s what you try to convey with your adoring gaze and your tender touch, and you sincerely hope it reaches him.
When you feel him lean into your touch, a content smile spreads on your face and you instinctively tilt your head up, capturing his damp lips in a passionate kiss that instantly rekindles the desire inside of you. Simon matches your eagerness, hands travelling down your body to caress, grab, squeeze, grope and tease anything he finds on his path. You do the same, mapping his muscular torso, skimming your fingers down to his navel. 
For a moment, only a moment, you hesitate to go lower as you get caught up in your head, worries threatening to hold you back again, but the way he interrupts the contact of your lips to place a trail of sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck makes your worries fade again and you slip your hand inside his unzipped jeans. You relish in hearing the guttural sound that rewards your action; it compels you to rub your hand over his boxers with more confidence, feeling his bulge with a light squeeze.
Simon hastily brings his hand to his waistband and tugs it down, his boxers receive the same treatment. Your hand now closes around his erection, giving it a few tentative strokes. He draws a sharp breath.
“ Bloody hell , princess…”
He mutters in the crook of your neck and you shiver. His reaction encourages you to increase the vigour of your movements.
“Is this ok?”
He hums softly, hips starting to buck in sync with your hand. He lets you fondle him, drag your fingers on the tip wet with precum, make him moan in pleasure as your hold around his girth tightens… then he pulls away, grabs your hand and brings it to his lips for a soft peck on its back.
You follow his movements, eyes drawn to his lips then flickering down to his cock. By the touch you assumed it was pretty big and the sight only confirms your thoughts but it shocks you anyway.
You hear him huff a laugh through his nose.
“Do you think you can take me, mh?”
Your eyes dart back to his face, meeting his amused look.
“I don’t know…”, you bite your lips, the angles of your mouth curling up in a playful smirk, “but I sure as hell ain’t gonna back down from a challenge.”
Your heart soars with joy seeing his face crack into a pleasantly surprised expression, a chuckle coming out of his mouth.
“Good girl.”
He pins you with his mesmerising gaze, bending down on you again. He leans on the side, toward the bedside table. You crane your neck to watch. His hand slips into a black smoking-bowl and comes back with a small metallic sachet. Protection. Of course. This place is well-equipped. Your curious eyes keep following his movements as he takes the condom and secures it onto his throbbing erection. You swallow as his gaze moves back on your face, your stomach starts churning again. He seems to sense your nervousness and leans down, hand grabbing your jaw, eyes piercing right into yours.
“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be gentle.”
You nod with a smile, then take a deep breath.
“It’s okay. I trust you, Si.”
He leans in for a quick soft kiss, hand guiding his erection between your legs, tip rubbing against your slit to coat it in your wetness. Your whole body tingles in anticipation. 
“Stop me anytime if you need to.”
He waits for your confirmation before he slides in, bit by bit, easing you to the intrusion. An instant groan comes out of his mouth.
“Oh, you’re so fucking tight!”
Your brows furrow, your jaw sets, soft cries come out of you as he settles inside your walls but you don’t stop him. He kisses your neck, right on the spot he learned that makes you quiver the most, your hands clutched at his sides. It doesn’t take long for the nagging feeling to fade and for you to get accustomed to the sensation as your core stretches to welcome him fully.
Simon feels your body relax and starts to push into you, slowly, carefully, letting out pleased grunts of his own. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and lift them up to his waist. You latch your legs around his body, a maneuver that allows him to bury his cock deeper inside you and that causes a loud moan to erupt from you.
“G-God… That’s…”
His lips trail back from your neck to your jaw, teasingly brushing your skin, until they hover on your open mouth; his eyes take in your contorting features with a pleased smile. 
He rocks at a steady pace against you while his hands roam your body, travel up your hips, caress your breasts, skim along the shape of your arms, stopping only to let his fingers interlace with yours, and pin your hands down to the mattress, at either side of your head.
You feel your lucidity slip from you completely. No coherent words come out of you, only a nonsensical mumbling. The way he’s thrusting inside of you, so deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot at each push, it takes every fiber in your being not to scream out loud and make the whole pub know how Simon’s fucking you sensless. 
You can only focus on how you’re connected to him, how he is filling you up so beautifully, how your bodies move wonderfully together; it’s almost like a dance, a primal animalistic dance that belongs to you two only. You even have the music to accompany your dance moves, a soft sensual melody that perfectly complements your passion-imbued union of trembling bodies.
So this is how it feels to have sex? This is how it feels to be wholly consumed by lust and desire? Or could this overwhelming sensation simply be Simon’s doing? To have him make love to you?
“Y/n…”
It takes a lot of effort for you to hum back in response.
Simon’s lips crush clumsily against yours as his movements become frantic and sloppier. He must be close to reaching the high. And so are you. Your eyelids are heavy, your sight slightly blurred and unfocused.
“Si, I think I’m about to-”
He pulls away from your lips, spine straightening, piercing eyes landing on your face as one of his hands slips from yours and travels along your body, down toward your core. He deliberately rubs your slit with his palm before he picks up a hectic waving motion to stroke your swollen nub, immediately triggering a shock wave of shivers to spiral up your back. Your head spins at the additional stimuli. Your eyes squeeze shut, cries fall out of your mouth as you contort in pleasure.
You feel his other hand grab your jaw and shake it lightly, demanding your attention.
“Eyes on me, beautiful.”
You look up at him with glazed eyes, dizzy and yearning for your release. With every stroke and every thrust you lose yourself more and more into the bliss.
His hand settles on your neck, closing around your throat, not hard enough to delay your breathing but providing you with such a thrilling and wicked pressure that makes you salivate and that instantly sends heat flaring in your belly, causing your need to build faster and even more intense.
Panting hard, your hands now free, you grip onto Simon’s strong arms while you progressively lose focus on every way he’s indulging your desire, instead centring your heightened senses on the feelings he’s awakening. The last thread of restraint then finally snaps and you reach the peak, core lightening with an answering flame that you’ve never felt before. You lose yourself in the waves of pleasure overtaking you, barely taking notice of Simon’s rutting inside you once, twice, three more times before his body goes still against you and a deep groan erupts from him. Both of you anchor the other’s body, pressing together, relishing in the other’s shudders and panting breaths. You’re so flush against him that you can feel his heart, challenging your own in a speed race and then gradually slowing down.
Chest heaving, you cradle the back of his head, letting your fingers thread between the roots of his hair, while he blows his hot breath on the crook of your neck as you both ease down from your highs. The warmth of his body is comforting against yours, you never want him to let go. The rousing feeling of his cock still buried inside you, resting between your fluttering walls is one you could easily get used to. It almost takes your breath away when Simon slides out of you, leaving you bare.
His damp lips press against your boiling skin, trailing up your jaw. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, committing this idyllic moment to memory. 
His thumb gently strokes your chin, fingers resting upon your cheek. When you open your eyes, he's already looking at you with the loveliest smile you've ever seen graze his face. You return it with one of your own.
"Si..." you pause, staring deep into his eyes. There's so much you want to say, a multitude of emotions running wild and untamed inside of you that needs to be addressed and yet you struggle to find the right words to tell him how you feel.
The realisation of what has just happened downs on you. You've spent years fantasising about this moment, fearing the real thing wouldn't even come close to your idealised perfect first time. Wondering when, where, with whom you would live through this experience. You're euphoric to admit to yourself that the real thing has surpassed the fantasy by a landslide. 
"I'm... glad it was you."
It sounds silly when you say it. You could have chosen from a billion other thoughts you had swirling in your head, yet this one drowned out the rest. But as silly as it may sound, it’s the truth: you’re beyond thrilled he was your first. There’s no other man in your life that you trust, respect, and love as much as him with whom you could share such intimacy. 
You see the angle of his lips curl up to one side, the pad of his thumb softly brushing the outline of your bottom lip. 
" I'm glad it was me ."
Your face cracks as you erupt in a giggle. With your palm against his cheek, you gently push him away. "Simon..."
He smiles down at you, his eyes crinkling as he leans down again to kiss the crown of your head before drawing all the way back and getting off the bed. 
Your gaze follows him as he tosses the used condom into the trash can and pulls up his underwear and jeans. As he picks up the rest of his clothes from the floor and gets dressed again, your devoted gaze glides up and down his body, a permanent smile engraved to your lips. You feel so lucky to be able to witness such a sight… You still have a hard time believing your eyes.
“Now, who’s enjoying the show ?”
His amused glance meets yours, and you give him a sheepish smile, followed by a shrug.
"I'm just taking it all in..."
"Oh, you've already taken it all in , princess."
You let out a shocked scoff, your mouth wide open. You dismissively wave your hand in front of your face and shake your head, as you feel a crawl of heat flooding to your cheeks. 
"Oh, shut up..."
You love his sense of humour. It’s one of the qualities you like the most about him. And now that you’re… well, even closer to him, the sarcasm is only bound to get more pungent. Not that you’d complain about it.
His low chuckle fills your ears as you distract yourself by adjusting your bra and dress, then taking a seat on the side of the bed to slip your boots back on. You notice a heap of black and white fabric on the floor at your feet and bend down to pick it up. It's his balaclava.
The thought doesn’t even have time to fully form in your mind that you’re already pulling the mask over your head. Unfortunately there’s no mirror in the room to check your reflection, to see how the skull fits you but the cloth feels surprisingly nice against your skin and… you can smell his scent.
The sudden lack of rustling from behind you causes you to spin around and you find Simon staring at you, holding your jacket. He walks toward you, handing you the garment, reaching then for your face to adjust the fabric on your nose and on your chin. He stops to give you an appraising look.
"It looks better on me."
You chuckle, smacking him playfully on the chest. “Oh, c’mon… what if I want to wear one, too?”
"And hide your beautiful face? Negative.”
“Well, then…”, you pin him with a challenging look, palms pressing hard against your cheeks, securing the mask on your head. “I won’t let you hide your beautiful face, either.”
You see him softly shake his head as he huffs a chuckle through his nose. After a moment, he reaches for his back pocket and retrieves your undies, waving them high above your head. 
“What? You’ll put those on your head instead?”
You try to suppress the laugh by biting on your lips but it erupts out of you anyway, like a river in flood. The pointed look he gives you only makes it worse.
“Alright, alright…”
Still snickering, you pull on the fabric and peel it off your head, holding it out to him. 
He takes the mask from you but doesn’t let go of your undies. He puts them back in his pocket as casually as he took them out.
You scoff, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" 
“I’m keeping them, as a memento.”
You stare at him, appraising his solemn expression. If he wants them then you’ll let him have them - the fabric is ruined anyway. They're not even your favourite pair, thankfully.
“First and last time you steal something from me, Si!”
“Can’t make promises, princess.” 
Your chest swells as you try to read between the lines. It's inevitable. You can't help but wonder if he means to tell you something else. Will there be a next time, or multiple next times? Does he plan on stealing something else? Like, your heart? To be honest, he's already halfway there, but he doesn't need to know that. At least not yet. 
You keep on looking into each other's eyes for a bit longer. You think you can detect the profound fondness behind his look. Your lips curl up in a shy smile.
“Ehm… I believe we kept the guys waiting long enough." you say, breaking the silence. "We should get back downstairs."
He gives you a curt nod but instead of moving away, he draws closer to you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he leans down and angles your head to brush one more kiss against your lips. The contact is strikingly gentle and it takes your breath away. It’s a kiss infused with unspoken words of devotion, promises, feelings which are too strong to be shared so early on but that are already there, growing, blossoming. Both your hearts are gardens in bloom. 
He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours for a lingering moment before taking a step back and disguising his face once again. 
The action saddens you but at the same time it fills your chest with pride; you're the only one who has been blessed to bask in the beauty of his seldom-seen bare face and no one else will receive such special treatment. Not today. Hopefully never. Is it selfish of you to wish that? Perhaps, but you don't care. Not when images of your lovemaking are still so fresh in your mind. Not when you can still feel the worshipping touch of his hands and tongue on your body. Certainly not when the cool, humid air of the room hits the wetness of your exposed core beneath the dress. 
You exchange a knowing look before moving towards the door and walking down the stairs together. That soothing tune, now linked with poignant core memories, floods in your ears once again, growing louder as you return to the main area and towards the bar. Your team is still at the counter, exactly where you left them... how long ago? You have no idea how much time has passed. You were too engrossed in your passion to pay attention to the outside world and its trivialities.
Johnny glances behind his shoulder just as you and Simon make a beeline toward the group. You can see his lips moving; he must be saying something to the others because they all crane their heads to look at you before returning to their drinks. Soap is the only one who whirls around, bivouacing on his seat and all over the counter like a fucking braggart as he meets your eyes and winks at you. 
Oh, he'll take yours and Simon's hookup as a personal victory, and he'll brag about it; you already know it. But you're far too happy right now to be bothered by it. Let him gloat. You're the one who got the reward, anyway. 
When you eventually make it to the bar, no one acknowledges your arrival. Nobody says anything about your absence or the dance prior to that. Their silence only serves to emphasise that they are all aware of what happened. The furtive glances they cast your way, some more mischievous than others, serve as plain confirmation. 
"Now that we're all here, I suppose we can head out." 
The captain's voice calls out to everyone as he stands up from the barstool. "Unless the two lovebirds fancy one last drink?" 
You try to ignore the appellation he used and the way your stomach flipped in response. You raise one hand and shake your head, avoiding his eyes as well as the urge to glance up at Simon. "I'm good."
A beat.
"Alright then. Off we go."
On cue, everyone gets off their seats, some knocking back their glasses, others stretching their legs. You take advantage of the shuffle to walk over to Johnny and hold out the key to him. He takes it back without a word but the sly smile playing on his face is hard to miss. You hope at least he has the decency to hold off of grilling you for deets until you’re back at the HQ.
You seem to catch a movement in your peripheral vision: Price giving Simon a firm pat on the shoulder? You’re tempted to turn your head to take a better look when a loud scoff interrupts you and draws your attention back to your best mate.
"Bloody hell, y/n! You and L.T. are not joking around!" 
Your brows furrow upon hearing his remark and when you follow the trajectory of his stunned look, your eyes widen as they meet the cloth of your undies poking out of his back pocket. You spring into action right away, grasping the exposed edge to yank it farther inside his jeans. Simon’s own hand reaches behind him to wrap around yours, fingers interlacing, as he maintains his focus on Price in front of him. Your chest swells at the gesture, heat rising in your cheeks,  but you manage to turn around and zap Johnny with a fierce glare anyway.
He makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. However, the grin he flashes you is so contagious that you find yourself returning one of your own.
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It appears like you're in for a ride full of taunts, jokes, knowing looks and funny name-calling. Your mates will give you two no rest… but who gives a shit about it? Simon said it first. Why should you care? You'll take this and much worse if it means getting the chance to explore your feelings with the man of your dreams and spending many more nights out - or inside his spacious office - dancing together.
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vmpiires · 27 days
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﹆₊ 一人 ‧₊˚ NOT ALLOWED, KAMO CHOSO
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ he loves you so much. he just can’t understand why you don’t love him back. wc, 1.02K. dark mode recommended.
␥ note. this story is based off ‘not allowed’ by tv girl and choso is obviously perfect for this idea i have. me and @5kstxrz were talking about the meanings of tv girl's lyrics and how deep they are. shit made me cry a bit...but i hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee (also, play the song while you read so you can immerse)
␥ tags. 90s AU, female reader, female anatomy, choso is in a one-sided love situation with reader, drinking, smoking, masturbation, jealousy, smut (?), lmk if i missed anything
␥ misc. masterlist AO3
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the acrid smell of smoke filled the small apartment, billowing up to the ceiling and swirling in an ominous dance. choso sat on the corner of the couch, playing with a switchblade in one hand while a cigarette dangled lazily from his lips. outside, the sky rumbled with thunder, and sheets of rain pounded against the glass panes as if pleading to be let inside.
the dim light cast shadows on the walls, making the atmosphere feel even more tense and foreboding. but choso remained unfazed, lost in his own thoughts as he absentmindedly flicked open and closed the blade in his hand.
the lit cigarette made a soft plop as it landed in the ornate, yet worn ashtray on the coffee table. it rolled around momentarily before coming to rest in a comfortable position. choso took a swig from his can of beer, lifting it to his lips and gulping down the cold, bitter liquid like a parched animal.
on the table in front of him lay scattered polaroids of you, your bright smile shining through the images. but in each one, there was also a man whose face had been scribbled out with a bold black permanent marker. you were always so beautiful, he thought to himself. why would you waste your time with someone who never even bothered to take you dancing, playing with your head?
choso gazed intently at the breathtaking backdrop of the spring season. the delicate cherry blossom trees adorned the landscape, their branches gracefully draping overhead like a string of luminous lanterns during the lunar year. the vibrant pink petals danced in the gentle breeze, filling the air with a sweet floral fragrance that intoxicated the senses.
as he observed this picturesque scene, choso couldn't help but wonder if this man you were so in love with was truly bringing joy and happiness into your life. did he ever make you cum? did he ever make you cry? he wasn't sure but, he was truly determined to change all of that for you.
those little wires in your mind were being sewn together, rubbed, and severed by the heat. you couldn't even begin to fathom how long choso could stare into your picture and wish that it was him instead of that parasite you call your crush.
choso knew he couldn't be angry. it wouldn't be fair for you. i guess it's different because you love him, he thought to himself as he took another swig of his beer, a thin trail of saliva stretching from his bottom lip to the metal of the can.
as the male drank, forcing himself to forget about you and how you were probably getting pounded into the mattress by someone who wasn't him, he decided to use his own sick and twisted imagination. his mind was always interactive, and his dreams were vivid and memorable. they always made him smile when you were in those dreams.
in a recent dream, choso found himself standing on your doorstep, his hot breath fanning over your forehead as he leaned in to lick the sweat from your skin. your fingers were tangled in his hair, gently tugging and guiding him closer. the air was thick with desire as leather jackets fell to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.
as he reminisced about this dream, choso felt his hips bucking lightly against his fist, a low groan escaping his lips as he imagined it was your touch instead of his. he could almost feel your hand wrapped around him, slick with saliva as you teased and stroked him. or maybe it was your mouth, warm and wet as the pink muscle slid against his glossy tip, driving him wild with pleasure.
a chaotic mess of papers littered his room, each one filled with love letters, soulful song lyrics, and passionate poems - all written for you. he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever have the courage to send one to you or serenade you with a single sonnet. would you even appreciate them? he worried they would turn sour instantly, the words losing their potency once spoken aloud when he's only being honest.
his fingertips were stained with traces of his own release, a physical manifestation of the emotions and alcohol coursing through his veins. the weight of his head against the arm of the couch added to the sensation of being drunk, both from the liquor and his turbulent thoughts. his gaze rested on the landline phone hanging against the wall, its cord twisting like a snake in mid-air.
he leaned back against the arm of the couch, his head tilted upwards as if searching for answers in the ceiling above. the room was spinning around him, the only still object being the glowing numbers on the digital clock ticking away on the side table. you never called. and choso was starting to suspect that you don't intend to do anything you say at all. wasting your tongue with lame excuses and lies.
“fuck,” the curse slipped out between his gritted teeth as he glared at the relentless rain. it was like a physical manifestation of a third party that was blocking him from reaching you, his heart's desire. the sound of the downpour echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of his unrequited love for you as you remained locked away in your house, captivated by the shadows of clouds rather than the beauty of the falling rain or the sweet aroma it brought as it pattered against the asphalt, and it only added to his frustration.
choso berated himself for being foolish enough to fall for someone like you. but it was okay. even if he was sitting alone, watching from a distance as you dashed off with another man, he didn't mind remaining just your friend. just for a little bit longer. even if it meant having even a small place in your life.
as the rain continued its steady rhythm against the asphalt, he couldn't help but feel that it mirrored his own emotions - a constant and unyielding force that would never be satisfied.
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thatfreshi · 8 months
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Soulmates Aren't Always Beautiful (Astarion x Reader)
Part 2 to "He's Not Sick, Is He?", the happy ending everyone (including me) wanted.
Recommended Song: Run - Taylor Swift Ft. Ed Sheeran
You fall asleep in the dark alleyway, finding some peace and quiet in the cold stone. Thinking back a couple of weeks ago, Astarion would've killed you for being so reckless, passing out somewhere in the city. When you wake to broad daylight, you wonder if he'd even care, if he'd notice how long you were gone for. You know he cares, deep down you truly do, but it doesn't feel like it. It's hard to seem like you care about anything when you can't even care about yourself.
Astarion has been awake since you left, wondering if maybe he pushed you away for good. Somewhere in his brain, he says that's probably for the best. He knows it's been miserable, that looking after him has been a fruitless endeavor. He goes in between reading a book he's already memorized and staring at the bottle of your blood on the table. It was true, he needed blood, he felt miserable, and yet there was comfort in that misery, as if this is how it was supposed to be. It reminds him of that year in the crypt, when there were no rats to be found, how he desperately wanted a drop of crimson, and yet there was nothing.
He wakes from the memory when his eyes meet the bottle again, knowing you sliced your arm open for him. Why were you so determined to try? Why did you want to be there so badly? Astarion thinks of the moments you laughed together, but he can't place the jokes. He remembers kissing you, finally becoming intimate again, but it's all a blur. The past week has felt like centuries. The vampire desperately wants to take the bottle, try to drink some of your blood, but everything is screaming at him to stay in bed, that his bones will be far too heavy if he even tries to stand up.
Hours pass, it's early in the morning now and you're not back. He thinks about the past week, how all of his friends left the inn and he didn't even say goodbye, how you kept making up excuses for him. Would he ever see them again? Would he ever see you again? Memories flood back of Cazador's palace, stabbing him to death, the sobs and screams. What would he think, if his old master could see him rotting in the sheets, unable to even feed himself. He eyes the bottle again, and slowly moves to sit up against the headboard. It's slow, creaking movement, that feels like trying to break through paralysis. When he's sat there long enough, he reaches out to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle you so kindly gave him. Eyeing the fluid, he almost wants to throw up, nauseous from how long it's been since he last drank. But then, he think of you, of your companions, of Cazador's death. It wouldn't mean anything if he wasted away here forever. He drinks. It's not nearly enough, but it's something, something to make up for days of starving. He begins to cry again, from how hard it was to simply drink your blood. Then, he hears the soft knock on the door, and just continues crying.
You hear him before you see him, and you're rushing in after you knock. It hits you: the bottle is empty. He's not lying down, wrapped up in fabric. Astarion's eyes lock with yours, but he says nothing, and continues wiping away at his tears. You come to the bed and hold him, and he unravels in your hands.
"Thank you my love, thank you for trying. I'm so proud, I hope you know that."
You choke out those words of encouragement, truly shocked that he managed to do anything. It's such a relief.
"I'm sorry."
He whispers to your chest.
"It's okay, it's okay Aster I promise. I've got you, always."
You comb through his hair with your hands, blood still crusted from days ago. The urge to grab an actual comb is strong, but you hold back, knowing he just needs you to be here right now.
"I should feel better. Why don't I feel better?"
"It takes time love, it'll come in time. This is just the beginning, I swear it."
Astarion doesn't often like promises, but he believes them when they come out of your mouth.
"Is... is your arm alright?"
"It'll be just fine."
It definitely wasn't fine now, and would most likely get infected despite your efforts to clean it, but you'd go see Shadowheart soon enough. After a few moments of silence, he shifts to look up at you.
"Could I, perhaps feed on you now?"
You smile.
"Of course."
He's still shaky, softly digging his teeth into your skin. The drinking starts slow, but speeds up once he realizes just how deep his hunger runs. At some point he releases his teeth, and lays back in your grasp.
"Better?"
"A little."
There a few moments where he simply relishes the feeling of being fed. He had forgotten for a moment just how much his stomach ached for blood.
"Are you up for a little more?"
You wonder if this has been enough care for him, if he needs some more rest.
"Could we just, lay here? And you can ask me again in a while?"
You run a spare hand across his back.
"I'd love nothing more."
It hits you in that moment, just how hard taking care of a lover is, how it rips your chest wide open at times. No one could ever make you feel as much anguish as Astarion could, and that was a curse as well as a gift. Soulmates aren't always beautiful. Sometimes they hurt, knowing you're forever attached at the hip to a miserable aching person. But those moments, when you can talk without saying a word, when all it takes is a look, it makes it all worth it. You think about all the times you battled together, how many times he killed in your stead, how many times you did the same. You remember the fear, the love, the pain. Your hands grip him tighter.
No, soulmates aren't this angelic concept. They're messy, affectionate but messy.
"I killed him..."
You're woken from the memories, looking down at the loving elf in your grasp.
"Mhm, you did. He's gone now, forever."
"I'm still scared though."
It tugs at your heartstrings a little, knowing how much this is to process, especially after being under his reign for far too long.
"We're always going to be a little scared, just of more normal things now. Like Lae'zel being angry or knowing Karlach could snap us in half."
He breathes out a little, almost forming a chuckle, lost somewhere in the air. Your eyes trail back to his hair again, and the bloody matted mess it has become.
"Could I try to clean some of this out my love?"
Your fingers glide through the hair closest to his scalp, getting stuck soon after. He makes a small noise of agreement. Trying your best not to make him move, you grab your comb from the other nightstand.
"Anything else you want to talk about?"
You ask, beginning to pick out the dried blood, knowing most of it is Cazador's. It makes your skin crawl a little.
"Do you think I'll be okay?"
The urge to joke with him is strong, like you normally would, but he's fragile right now. Saying 'You have your whole immortal life to be okay' probably isn't a good choice.
"I do. Might take some time, but we'll figure it out."
"It's just... so paralyzing."
"What is?"
"Freedom."
A thought you hadn't had before now. Spending your entire life with one goal, and now being met with infinite choices, that must be terrifying.
"Well, what do you want to do with your freedom?"
"Everything. And nothing. I, I just don't know what's next. I've always known what's next."
"How about we just focus on one thing at a time? Then, you don't have all these options to choose from, just something to do."
"What if I choose wrong?"
"That's the beauty of freedom my love. It's not so black and white. You live in the grey now, where you can't really choose wrong. You can just, choose."
"I almost chose wrong at Cazador's."
You feel a little sick, thinking about what would've happened after the ritual. How different your precious lover would've been, how you would've lost your dear Aster.
"But you didn't."
"Only because you convinced me."
"And I'll be here to help you with the rest, as long as you need my help."
"I think I'll need your help forever."
"Then I'll offer it up for eternity."
You plant a kiss on his forehead, almost done brushing through his curls now.
"But you won't have to make a choice as big as that again. At least not for a long, long time."
For the next couple of hours, you tiredly talk about everything and nothing, finally getting him a fresh change of clothes and a warm bath. There's a moment where you're wiping the blood and dirt off his face, and you pause, lost in his eyes.
"What?"
You smile.
"I just don't know how I got so lucky. That's all."
As you're getting ready to lie down, you remember that every day won't be as successful as this one. Two steps forward, one step back. But you're hopeful, like Gale said, that's all you can be. Astarion melts into your touch and you wrap yourselves up in the shitty inn blanket together, his back to your chest. Sometimes you can feel the scars through his shirt.
"I'm proud of you. For all of it, today, yesterday, everything you've ever done."
He doesn't say anything, but he loses a little tension in his shoulders, unclenches his jaw.
"Just promise me you'll get up and try again tomorrow. That's all I can ask of you, that you keep trying, every single day."
"I do, I promise."
The two of you drift off without saying much else, and it's the best sleep he's had in weeks. The realization sticks with him, that you love him regardless, unconditionally. A smile stretches across his face in his slumber, excited to make a small choice, to wake up again tomorrow and try.
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cosmicdream222 · 3 months
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An interview with a shifter who has been “time leaping” since 2001
I found this website of an interview with a Japanese shifter known as Mr. Kanda. He figured out how to shift back in time when he was in middle school - he calls it “time leaping”.
The original website is in Japanese and can be found here.
Mr. Kanda was born in 1986, and around 2001 failed his high school entrance exam. Due to his intense regret, he shifted back in time to repeat middle school. He then made multiple time leaps repeating certain years of his life, studying different subjects in high school and pursuing different careers. At the time of the interview, he says he has lived about 70-80 years of life.
I translated some of the most interesting parts below.
Note: a Tulpa is a phenomenon that’s like an imaginary friend that actually becomes a sentient separate consciousness from you. It’s an entirely different rabbit hole, so you can just think of it as a dream character to understand his story.
My notes are written in [brackets].
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Mr Kanda’s First Time Leap Story
Kanda: When I was meditating on my futon, I started to have a lucid dream.
At that time, Tulpa talked to me and said, "If you raise your clarity to the maximum in your dream, wouldn't it be possible to time leap, or even move around the world?" I tried it, but no matter how much I increased the clarity, it still felt like a dream.
So Tulpa said, "If you get absorbed in something you like, you won't be able to hear the voices around you, and your focus will gain momentum. You will eventually forget that you’re dreaming," so as a result of playing in the dreamworld, I spent about a week in a dream without knowing it.
At that time, I suddenly realized, "This is a dream", but I had already completely forgotten the feeling of the original world, and the dream world had become my new reality.
After thinking about why I didn't come back even though I realized it was a dream, the answer I came up with was, “It's because I completely lost my sense of the original world.”
To explain it another way, wouldn’t it be disorienting if I told you that the person you are right now is in a lucid dream of another person? That’s what it was like for me. My dream had actually become my reality, and I forgot about my old reality.
Q: What was the reason for your first time-leap?
Kanda: I think because something bad happened and I wanted to pretend it never happened.
The first time for me was probably a coincidence/accident. In fact, when I tried to do it again, I couldn't, so I started practicing with time leaps through lucid dreaming and meditation, and I got better at stabilizing and controlling them.
When people can’t do something, they hate it, but when they can do it, they love it. So once you succeed, even just once, your faith increases, and you know you can do it again!
Mr. Kanda’s Lucid Dreaming Method
Mr. Kanda recommends lucid dreams the most as a time-leap method. This is how he does it:
Before you go to sleep, first visualize in your head where you want to go. Then lie on your back and meditate. When you fall asleep, the images you were thinking about will run through your dreams. If you shift your consciousness to yourself in the dream, you will be able to act without being aware of what you are currently dreaming about.
In normal lucid dreaming, you become aware that you are dreaming right now [known as DILD or dream-induced lucid dream]. When trying to time-leap, the important thing is how much you can act in the dream in a way that is consistent with reality. He says it is important to “improve your clarity” to the point where it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore.
Mr. Kanda seems to be able to suddenly enter into a lucid dream from the moment he begins to sleep, [WILD - wake induced lucid dreaming] and he also teaches us how to do so:
First, relax.
In Kanda's case, he darkens his room 70 minutes before going to bed and drinks hot herbal tea. Adjust the temperature in the room to a comfortable level, then listen to some calming music. It's better to feel a little tired.
Once you get into bed, visualize and replay strong happy and positive memories in your mind. When you feel happy, close your eyes and calm down all at once and enter a meditative state.
Mr. Kanda recommends mindfulness meditation. Don't think about anything, just focus on the sound of your heart and breathing. When you successfully fall asleep from meditation, you are conscious but your body is asleep, and lucid dreaming begins.
Kanda meditates for 20 minutes every morning, not just when he wants to lucid dream. According to him, “conditioned reflexes” [creating habits] are important. By repeatedly performing a certain action, one eventually becomes able to enter that state without even trying.
 
Q: If the ‘you’ from another world were to time-leap to this world, what would happen to ‘you’ now?
Kanda: There seems to be a misunderstanding: there is only one consciousness.
Reality changes depending on where we place our consciousness in a world of infinite possibilities.
I do have consciousness in my other reality, but from the perspective of me in the current reality, it seems like I don't have consciousness.
In other words, my life in this other reality is as if it were controlled by a computer.
Of course, the same can be said for us. From the perspective of another reality’s consciousness, we too live our lives as if controlled by a computer.
In the end, even if consciousness from another reality shifts, the consciousness we see is always here. So no matter what they do, it has no effect on us.
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octuscle · 6 months
Note
thank you my friend for showing me all the things I can be. But one transformation just felt more right than the others. Please can you turn me back to a British chav working in ChavTF. This time I want it to be permanent and I want to become as chavy as possible. Just a dumb horny chav, who loves trainers, tracksuits, smoking, drinking and blowjobs
Alcohol gives you really stupid ideas, doesn't it? Even if the alcohol is an expensive 2020 Silvaner from a great vineyard on the Main in Franconia… Dude, you're a masterpiece! And you want to change that?
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You're playing with your cell phone… There's the ChavTF online store. Hot tracksuit on special offer. The devil knows when you'd put it on… But you order it. They recommend a pair of socks, a pair of sneakers, a bracelet and a necklace. You think the necklace is stupid… But the rest looks cool. Everything goes into the shopping cart. Pay. And order. Everything should be here the day after tomorrow.
When you get home on Friday evening, the parcel is on your doorstep. Some friendly neighbor has accepted the package. The box has been used before. A bong was obviously packed in it before. It also smells like weed, but also like the plastic of cheap synthetic fibers. The tracksuit is no longer in its original packaging. It also smells a bit like sweat. And it looks like there are dried precum stains in the pants. You get a boner. And your precum forms another stain in your pants. The socks and sneakers look great with the tracksuit.
There are lots of notes in the box next to the bill. A voucher for a hairdresser. And a flyer looking for new employees for the online shop. Hehehe, the job certainly wouldn't make enough money for your Mayfair apartment. But somehow you feel like redeeming the voucher for the hairdresser. Shorter hair goes better with the tracksuit. Okay, the cab ride to the Eastend is probably almost as expensive as if you'd gone to your hairdresser. But that doesn't matter to you now.
You fit into the hairdressing salon about as well as the king fits into the subway. None of the customers are over 25 years old. No one feels as muscular in their tracksuit as you do. And everyone is either smoking a cigarette or a joint. And most of them have a can of beer. The hairdresser sees you and shouts "You're next. Would you like uh beer, mate?" You just say yes. And then the barber runs the long hair clippers through your hair. "Mate, should I shave off da beard? it makes you look like an old main?" You actually feel much younger. The beer is why and tastes like piss. But it feels good. Your forehead is wrinkle-free and smooth again. You look more like a young bouncer than an investment banker. "Nah, mate, da beard stays on. But do you have uh fag for me?" Damn, what's happened to your language.
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You tip the barber a pound. You can hardly get enough of your reflection in the mirror. You need sex now. Quickly. It's still light and the cruising area in Victoria Park isn't far away. You don't have to stand by the tree for long before you disappear into the bushes with an old geezer. Phew, not really your level. But it feels right to get down on your knees and suck the unshaven, cheesy cock of this unkempt guy. And it also feels right when you pocket the ten pound note after the blowjob.
You take the subway home. Fuck, you're so horny, you could get fucked by every other guy here. But you need a pint of beer at least as badly. And it's not unlikely that you'll find something to fuck in the pub.
Fuck, you could clean up your mess and air it out. And you don't have anything clean to wear either. Shit, you had something planned for today… While you're pissing and smoking in your dirty little bathroom, you remember. You wanted to apply for the job. Warehouse worker at that cool clothes store in the East End. You spray some Axe under your armpits, put on your new tracksuit and take the bus to the East End.
You're already a little excited. After all, it's the first job you've done since you dropped out of your plumbing apprenticeship. And it's eight pounds an hour. A hell of a lot of money. But the guy in the store is cool. He thinks that all you need to be able to do for the job is organize weed for the other employees, give him the occasional blow job and tape up packages. Hehehe, hopefully you'll learn how to do the parcels, the rest you'll manage. And you can prove it right away. Starting with a blowjob.
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Best job ever. In fact, you're more of a warehouse hustler than a warehouse worker. But there are good tips. And the dope you got is damn good. And hopefully no one will notice that you took the necklace with you. Your mother yells for you to come into the house, dinner is ready. You shout back that you only have a few more things to do. Hehehe, you can't stand dinner with your mother and her new stud without being stoned.
Pics found @my-gear-smoking-favourites, @lyon69007-blog and @scallysmoker2
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luvring · 3 months
Note
Can I ask for headcanons about the LIs from Touchstarved and how they would deal with the MC who is suffering from menstrual cramps? Unfortunately, I'm in those days, I always get very sensitive and I can't eat anything (sometimes I even feel nauseous and vomit).
Sorry about my English
TS CAST WITH AN MC ON THEIR PERIOD
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gn!mc | aaaghh i hope u feel better soon/now anon that sounds awful :(
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ALL
i want you to know (partially because i don't want the notes to be repetitive) none of them would mind cleaning up any vomit, stains, etc. when they happen. literally none of them!! they've all seen worse, had worse happen, and care about mc. of course they'll take the time to clean up, change sheets, rub their back (and hold back any hair) as they hover over the toilet etc.
the others would ask kuras to check on mc if the symptoms are super serious and it could be some underlying condition. vere. ....mc is important enough to get kuras bro trust me. one of the others might recommend it if not him bdjhgbd
KURAS
! Finally a doctor that won't invalidate your experiences or just send you home! kuras would take their symptoms seriously and prescribe medication, etc as needed (i don't know how advanced they are surgery wise but if it was safe and possible...!)
he offers to let them stay at the clinic with him, but they both know he'd prefer they did assuming it isn't too difficult to set up
...methodical? when it comes to checking on mc, especially when they're suffering the worst of their symptoms! even when it seems like he's super busy and doesn't have time, he makes time.
he's good staying calm at signs of pain, strong emotions, etc., but it's a little different because mc isn't Just a patient. sometimes he can't help his worried expression when mc is in obvious pain, and he wouldn't buy tea for just anybody now would he! or let them pull him to the bedside and chat to distract them, comply when asked to hold his hand over their stomach, etc.
food wise.... he learns mc's favourites quickly, at least what they can stomach. best soup flavours, best drinks, soft foods... plus the nearest places he can run to. mc can be like Kuras It's literally 10 minutes away but he's like.. What kind of doctor would i be if i let my patient leave in this state. Can you lie back down now?
when they're home, kuras is freer to spend time with mc if they'd like! if mc says he has to cuddle because they're in pain, he can slip into bed with them. (he might be a little awkward the first couple of times because, well, cuddling isn't a usual treatment he offers to patients is it? and i don't think he's cuddled a lot in general, but he gets the hang of it!)
LEANDER
the wet wick isn't really where you want to be when you're dealing with cramps, nausea and anything else. so when mc mentions that they'll probably be dealing with their period soon and they tell him how bad it can get, leander makes sure to find a more comfortable place, even if it's just for a while. (or you know. maybe they live together somewhere else already and that'd just be very lovely and convenient !)
if there's any Magic Treatments he can do himself to soothe their pain, do some magic equivalent of a heating pad, etc. leander will absolutely use them! though he might make a joke like, Is the spell as good as me though? and when mc is like you know what? yeah. he's like :( / oh i see how it is...after everything we've been through /joking
i don't care if he doesn't like naps he will nap with mc if they ask. He Will. even if he doesn't stay the whole time, he'll at least rub their back and wait for them to fall asleep.
at their beck and call while he's around!! they need help getting to the washroom? he's there to help. they want a little snack? he's bought some! they ask him to run a hot bath? do they want him to help them wash because he will! their heated towels aren't hot enough anymore? no need to get up, leander's already on his way. they want to cuddle with him? What kind of guy would he be to say no?
if mc is more sensitive and their emotions are kind of all over the place, it probably surprises leander the most LOL. like everyone's caught off guard and worried walking in on them crying, but leander is most visibly like wait shit what happened? what's wrong? are you okay? did someone do something? because he's done everything he can to make sure they're comfortable like woah!!😭
VERE
do you guys know if vere's job is a 9 to 5 deal... well. while he's on the job, trust me when i tell you he's thinking of mc more often than he'd like to admit. he wishes he could check on them himself, but if he can't, he'll ask one of the others to. you'd think ais considering ais is the only one vere likes, but depending on what you need, he'll have to suck it up and ask. leander maybe?
yeah okay he'll rest his tail over your stomach and let you play with it now stop giving him puppy eyes and asking /lighthearted /silly. he'd appreciate it if you didn't squeeze very tight, like please hold onto something else besides his tail. but staying near you and getting that something isn't at all an issue for him!
if they want to cuddle Vere and not just his tail, he pretends he's Relenting and Allowing it, but he does enjoy it! (you can tell by the smile on his face and the way he shifts the pillows and blanket to make sure they're both comfortable for the foreseeable future.) he lets them rest their head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat, and he wraps his tail around just for extra warmth.
tones down his provocations and attitude when he realizes mc's state, and his more serious side comes out. if mc is confused/surprised by this, he rolls his eyes before carrying on to tell them to stay hydrated, and which places have the best teas/warm drinks. (he knows the owner of the one on the corner two streets down, and he's sure they'll lower the price for you.)
stubborn mc who ignores vere telling them they should stay in bed, or trying to help them there. vere who watches patiently as they're obviously in pain, until they give in and look at him. vere who, just once because he's vere, is like oh? what happened to not needing help? before mc tells him to shut up and he wraps an arm around them
AIS
makes sure they're drinking enough water and eating what they can despite his teasing. says shit like "okay, if you drink enough water i'll buy you some sweets" "think of how disappointed princess will be to find out you're pushing yourself" etc etc. of course when he's especially worried about them not eating, he'll take a more serious tone, but it's what he can do to keep their mood up.
even though exercising while you're cramping and bleeding often sounds. Miserable and Impossible. exercising regularly can help when the time comes! ais offers to join them on a couple walks a week :-) if mc thinks that they can do some light exercise, he'll be there to help them and suggest some easier workouts they can do. i don't think he's a huge yoga person, but he's got some stretches for sure!
guy who goes to buy some things and comes with more than mc expected or listed. he shrugs and says it's better to be prepared, and he was there so why not? he even asked some of the clerks for their opinion and was told some nice advice from a stranger who overheard him and who's he to say no.
might be below leander in terms of cuddling enthusiasm, but is still more comfortable than the others! he'll wrap himself around them, keeping a light pressure on their stomach and rubbing circles against their skin. he never complains about quietly staying and watching them, or talking if mc asks him to distract them. (they wonder how many of his stories take place in a bar. Have you never had a fun experience perhaps at a festival or park? he feigns offense before telling a 'nicer' story anyway.)
more modern au than TS but. i don't know if you guys saw that video where they asked their boyfriend to get pads with wings and he bought. pads and chicken wings. i'm crying soo bad like ais would do that as a joke. he'd take the wings out first then show mc he did, in fact, get pads with wings after they stare at him like ???? BEJHSBGJHB
MHIN
the first time it happens? they spot mc obviously in pain and watch them for a while because, well, that isn't their problem is it? they're just watching because they're curious, not because they really care. inevitably, they go up to check on them and bring them somewhere more comfortable because it was "hard to watch"
 it's like... mhin knows what to do, but there's hesitancy because they feel awkward About Offering. do they just hand mc the warm towel? do they ask them to roll over? if they ask what mc wants to drink, will they have the ingredients for it? they leave a bowl by the bed and say "in case you vomit" then hesitate before telling them where the washroom is, but the bowl is just in case. the others are more comfortable asking and taking initiative when it comes to mc y'know. but once they've established a relationship, mhin is quick to know what they like and need without mc even asking! ^^
"mhin" "hm?" "i think i'm dying" "you aren't dying" "i'm going to die" "don't die on my favourite blanket" "what the hell" (/lighthearted) (they do in fact care very much and feel bad. if mc wasn't busy suffering maybe they'd have noticed mhin preparing tea and a hot pack across the room.)
doesn't even try to entertain the thought of mc getting up and doing something strenuous. mhin shoots them a look like ? are you kidding. stay here and i'll take care of it. they won't force mc to stay in bed and assumes they know their limits, but that also means if mc pushes themself too much, mhin is all the more 'annoyed' (concerned!! they're concerned more than Angry, but can you please listen to them for once!)
omfg mhin bringing mc to a place where stray cats like to visit just to cheer them up a little. mhin handing them some food to hold out in their hand. there's a specific cat who really likes to purr and cuddle that they get the attention of just for mc. yeah.
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chosos-mascara · 2 years
Text
。˚۰˚☽ K I N K T O B E R D A Y 1 ☽˚۰˚。
Trying for a Baby - Kyojuro Rengoku
cw: breeding kink
Rengoku tries extra hard tonight following a conversation with Tengen.
minors+ageless dni.
masterlist
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"So," Tengen raised the patterned glass before him to his lips, taking a sip. His eyes moved from the table, up to his friend. "How are you and y/n?" He questioned, placing the glass back down after taking the shot. His fellow hashira's smile faded a little, understanding what he'd been implying with the somewhat vague inquiry. Rengoku thought over the past few months the pair of you'd shared, trying to create a family. Each month, your bleed would come, signalling your failure. Since the night of your wedding, you were yet to conceive the child you had both so desperately wanted.
"No baby yet." Your husband had replied, looking to the floor. His usual happy-go-lucky aura had dissipated when mentioning this topic. He was a little worried you wouldn't end up having a family, but tried to set these thoughts aside when with his friend. The two of you had of course spoken of this more than a few times, but Rengoku didn't like to lay concerns on you, as he'd understood your uneasiness had been as deep as his own.  "Do you have any advice?" Kyōjurō asked his friend, hoping perhaps Tengen would have some sort of miracle guidance- the man had three women to please, he'd had to know something of use. "Well, are you fucking her enough?" Tengen probed, though the answer should have been obvious.  "We have plenty of sex." Rengoku lost faith in whatever Tengen could offer, and in the conversation at hand. 
Tengen had noticed as Rengoku sank back in the chair he'd been seated on, usual bright and flamboyant eyes faded with concern.  "What positions are you using?" He quizzed, in attempts to come to a solution. Rengoku had been more focused on the bartender polishing glasses behind the bar, getting ready to close up within the next half hour. The pair of you had moved into the area shortly before your wedding, Uzui and himself sharing drinks in the establishment frequently post-mission, in celebration of their feats. 
"The usual; missionary, doggy, spooning..." He trailed off. Rengoku realised his own patience growing thin with the situation. He wanted to return home and take you now, having another try. Surely, he'd be successful soon. The thought of you baring his children brought him joy, after-all.  "You want your load to stay inside for longer, so I would suggest being on top, and raising her hips. Stop it from coming out for a while - that should higher your chances of fertilization." 
Your husband pictured doing this to you while on his way back home, warm from the sake the pair had drank. Tengen would probably be returning home around the time he was, Rengoku wondered whether the other male had also shared the lustful thoughts he'd been having with his own wives. 
You were in your room drying yourself after bathing when Rengoku had returned, slightly disheveled from his day and the few drinks he'd had. His shirt had already been partially unbuttoned, chest peeking from beneath. His body was beautiful, as you'd always told him, often tracing over the definition in his stomach, and the few scars he'd had. Each time he'd come home with cuts, you'd dress them immediately, always treating him well. Your genuine love and admiration for Kyōjurō was something he'd appreciated, and tried to reciprocate regularly. 
"Did you have a nice time?" You asked, pulling your damp hair back to wrap into a loose ponytail. Your skin was clean, smelling fresh from the soap you'd purchased at the market a few days before. Mitsuri had insisted on taking you shopping, though a lot of it had been for lingerie she'd recommended for use in your endeavors.  "Yes." Rengoku traced the remaining buttons, undoing them slowly. You'd already expected what was to come - it had been your routine for months now. He'd return home, and the pair of you would make your attempts at impregnation. 
Walking to you, Kyōjurō wrapped a finger around the fold in the towel you'd worn over yourself, pulling it undone. The male stared over your body, admiring the woman he'd come to love. The fire in his eyes ignited at the sight of you completely exposed to him, imagining the ways in which he'd take you tonight. One perk to the failure had been the drastic increase in your sex lives, and the openness you'd had to trying new things, or coming home with new toys to use. You'd kept it alive for each other, despite the undertones of why you'd been in this predicament. 
He'd pushed you backward, and you'd managed to make your way backward to rest your head on the pillows before he'd placed his lips over your body, placing kisses on the small of your neck. Rengoku licked and bit at the skin over your collarbones, before pulling back and moving his gaze to your face. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as he'd appeared to be looking over your expression, wondering why he'd spent so much time staring. His hand moved upward, behind your head, pulling the pillows from under you. You looked at him in confusion , stifling a laugh, unaware of his intentions. 
Your questions were answered as he used a hand to lift your hips upward, placing the cushions beneath you.  "Tengen suggested raising your hips." He'd explained to you, cheeks flushing over as he'd realised his actions hadn't been that of normalcy. You'd given him a smile, going along with his sweet attempts for success. 
He'd removed his own clothing, straddling you once more. The two of your mouths moved in sync against one another, being familiar with how the other's habits. You'd been aware of how your partner had enjoyed the way your tongue felt on his, often groaning into the kiss when you'd introduced your own. Tonight, you could taste the alcohol on his mouth, as well as feeling the tipsiness through his body language. His kisses were sloppy, your spit mixing together, a mess forming between you. Rengoku pulled back, a string connecting the two of your lips. His hair was messy, lips tinted and eyelids half closed, in a trance with how good you'd felt pressed against him. 
He placed kisses down your torso, before using the extra salivation he'd had from sharing with you to lube up his own cock. He didn't take much time to push himself into you, the comforting sensation of your walls hugging around him tightly. A soft groan left his lips as he'd pushed in deeper, hands steadying himself by gripping onto your hips. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his cock stuffing you, his movements of skin against yours causing you to bite a lip, moaning as you felt your core tighten. Your husband found his rhythm, breathing heavily as he used you to milk himself.  "You make m' feel so close, angel." Rengoku groaned, his dick twitching. You attempted to focus on his face, knowing the expression he'd had while pounding into your pussy was always so beautiful.  "I want your cum, 'goku." You'd moaned so sweetly for him, as he'd been bottoming out. His theory was to get as close to your cervix as possible before filling you with all he'd had, hoping that there'd be no option but pregnancy from his attempts. 
"I'm gonna get you pregnant." Rengoku's haze deepened, orgasm within reach. "I want your stomach swollen with my child." Your husband's words shocked you - himself bending forward to attach his lips to your ear. "I'll keep filling you up until nothing more fits inside you." The way he'd spoken to you had been unlike him, but through the daze, the thoughts had pushed himself over the edge, pushing as far into you as he was able to, coating your insides in his seed. "I'm going to get you pregnant over and over, you'll be constantly carrying my children. I won't give you any fucking breaks." 
His high fizzled out, his hands moving from your hips to hold your legs in the air. After removing his cock from your abused walls, he inserted his fingers inside you.  "W-what are you doing?" You'd questioned, still basking in the comments he'd just given.  "Nothing can go to waste, my love." Renogku had been adamant on his seed remaining inside you, until he was ready to fill you once more. 
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casterousaudrey · 9 months
Text
To have loved and lost
Word Count: 2k
Pairing: Astarion/Gender Neutral!Reader
Theme: very angsty, death of a lover, revenge.
Note: The people have spoken and I shall answer. I tried to make this as lore-accurate as I could while maintaining my main idea! Sorry if there are errors. I was initially going to write this as a hurt/comfort but angst was just calling my name 😪. I HIGHLY recommend listening to these songs while reading hehe.
Now playing: ※ Cover me in Roses - Holden Laurence ※ I want you - Mitski ※ No surprises - Radiohead ※ What was I made for - Billie Eilish ※ Video games - Lana Del Rey
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It wasn't supposed to happen how it did. Beating Cazador was supposed to be easy, Astarion had you and your other companions to fight alongside him. The difficult part was supposed to be deciding whether he would take this power for himself or let it go along with the thousands of vampire spawns with it.
So why was he frozen in place with your lifeless body an arm away, as your other companions tried to keep Cazador and his other lackeys at bay. You were always the protective type, you cared- probably more than you should for other people. He never understood how you could be so kind to people you just met, he who tried to kill you when you first met, he who takes all your offers to drink your blood, and he whose only goal was to kill Cazador, that was before he got closer to you.
He wasn't used to affection that didn't have a price, after all the times he fed on you he didn't hear a single condition on what you should get in return, all he heard was "I'm just happy to be helping you" Or "I can see in your eyes that the hunt wasn't good today, just swing by my tent if you need me ok?". He was- confused, and albeit sickened, after what he experienced being that kind only made him weak and even made him into a slave for Cazador. At the same time he couldn't help what he was feeling, how could he deny how he felt calm when he was in your embrace after particularly hard days, your skin on his with pleasure he never felt before, your kisses felt like the touch of the sun bringing back warmth into his pale and cold body, and your eyes that held no disgust for him.
But in the end, he was right, your kindness made you take a blow from Cazador for him and you paid the price. The last thing he remembered was you running to the blast that was aimed at him, gaining multiple attacks from the numerous minions Cazador had. Astarion couldn't move, he was stuck in place by Cazador and he already accepted the blast that was coming his way but if he knew that you were going to stand between him and Cazador maybe he would've fought harder, maybe your body wouldn't have been facing him with your eyes only focused on his. The moment you got hit- he swore he saw a tear leave your eye. He still doesn't know if it was out of worry for him or fear for what would happen to you.
The blast made your body fly to him as the impact knocked both you and Astarion to a nearby pillar. He was numb, even more than he was in all the years he served Cazador. After regaining his composure Astarion tried to take a glimpse at your body, but it only made him hold his breath and look away.
"Astarion are they ok? Say something!" He could hear Shadowheart screaming for him but there was still a distinct ringing in his head, he couldn't understand what was happening, he couldn't process what just happened. Shadowheart killed the remaining lackeys Cazador had while Karlach was able to kill most of them, Maybe they also saw what happened, and maybe they were also in rage. Who could blame them, You were the best of the group, and everyone's morale solely depended on you keeping it up.
He finally gained the courage to approach your body- crawling to where you were as he turned your body upright. He finally processed what had happened, you are dead, you sacrificed your life for a vampire spawn and he never felt sadness the way he did right now. Your eyes were closed, your chest not moving to breathe, this couldn't be the end. He loved you too much to let you go now, and he regretted not saying those three words earlier. "I love you" He whispered although now it didn't feel like what he imagined it would be, it felt meaningless.
In his grief he tried to find a solution, he racked his brain for any kind of answer, and in desperation, he found one. He'll turn you into a vampire, just like what happened to him when he died. Although he hoped this would happen in different circumstances he can't doubt himself now. "Hold on darling, okay? I got you. I'm here." He cradled your body in his arms as he wasted no time to bite your neck. In all his years as a spawn he has never experienced truly turning someone else, and why would he, the pain he remembered when he turned was not the pain he wanted on anyone else.
A bite and a drop of his blood was all that it should've taken. He bit his arm and had taken more than a drop of his blood in his mouth. He held your face as his blood made its way down your throat. For a moment he was glad, he knew it would work, this was how he turned! How could it not? But with the bite mark on your neck and the smell of his blood still lingering on your lips, you still weren't moving or responding at all. "What's the matter, love? Why isn't it working? I need you to live please!"
He cried and cried but through his tears, he wondered if maybe just biting you and giving you more blood would work. Frantic he started to remove the armor you had to gain access to more parts of your body.
Bite.
Your wrist, the same ones he remembers so tenderly to have kissed when you made love.
Bite.
Your leg, it would always tangle with his on nights that you found peace in each other's arms.
Bite.
Your thigh, what he would give to hold it tight once again as you sat on top of him.
Bite.
Your neck again, where he would bury his face, and suddenly all his problems would disappear.
He took in even more of his blood that once again made its way deep down your throat.
...
..
.
But nothing, it wouldn't work. He tried to reason with himself that maybe just maybe it would take a while for you to turn but he knew deep down that wasn't how it worked.
"You see boy, you are weak, you are nothing but a vampire spawn with no ability to protect anyone. Did I not teach you better than this?" Cazador who was already on his knees still managed to talk Astarion down.
Shock turned to grief and grief into rage.
"In all my problems and all the times I failed it was always you who was behind it..." Astarion made sure to put your body down gently whispering an 'I'll be back sweetheart' before standing up and striding towards Cazador and grabbing him by the back of his head "You just weren't satisfied with the years of pure shit you put me through were you?" Out of all the cruel things Cazador has done Astarion would argue that this is by far the most gut-wrenching thing he had ever experienced.
"Astarion, maybe if we bring them back to a church fast enough the clerics could-"
"The clerics can't do anything about this now!"
Karlach was quick to stop talking, normally she would not be easily swayed but she knew that he was right, You were as good as dead and in Astarions mind his world had also ended.
"You are a fool to believe that you could ever have a happy ending, Astarion. From the moment I turned you to the moment you lured your first victim you should've known that no Gods would ever take pity on your soul." The hand that was holding the back of Cazador's neck tightened. "You're right, No God would help me, but maybe your little contract can"
Astarion threw Cazador on the ground as the decision was set in his mind. "What do you think you're doing?" Finally, a hint of fear in Cazador's voice was what Astarion needed to continue what he was about to do. He needed to ascend to find another solution that his abilities as a spawn couldn't possibly find. "Karlach, I need your help- your eyes rather, to see the scars on my back. Use the parasite to connect to my mind so I can see the scars on my back and copy it onto his."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Oh, but I would, years of trying to push me towards the edge and today... You finally did it and I applaud you" Astarion picks up the blade beside him ready to carve the contract onto his back.
"You know I can't let you do that" Karlach tries to reason as she sees how truly hurt Astarion is.
"That wasn't a question! All the power that he's lusted after will be mine"
"At the cost of a lot of lives. It's not worth it, Astarion" Shadowheart knows nothing could sway him now, not after what Cazador did.
"My darlings' life was worth more than thousands! I'm just trying to even out the score"
Karlach debates for a minute, If she lets Astarion do the ritual thousands would die but if she doesn't Cazador would surely find a way to ascend and hunt down Astarion. In the end, she lets Astarion see the scars on his back, she could feel the blade in his hand with a tight grip and his grief covered by the lust for power that he can obtain.
"Yes, yes I see it." Astarion smiles a wicked grin as he removes Cazador's top which reveals his bare back soon to be marked with a contract.
The moment the blade came in contact with Cazador's back it was followed by his blood-curdling screams with the sound of flesh being carved out rather brutally. Shadowheart had to look away until the screams came to an end and the contract was finally set on Cazador's back.
"Ungrateful child. Wretched child."
"It's time to take your place."
Astarion picked up Cazador's staff which gave him the power to place Cazador to where he would be sacrificed. He could feel it, the power was an inch away from his grasp. All he needed to do now was plow the staff into the ground to obtain all that power.
As he raised the staff with closed eyes all he could think of was you, the images of all the times you spent together flashed before his eyes, at first he was happy then enraged after realizing that he might never see your smile again. It was all he needed for him to plow the staff to the ground as a red aura emanated from the floor and to the spawns. He recited the chant for the ritual and finally, he felt stronger and even more powerful.
One by one they all died and Astarion could feel the power flowing through him, he was high on whatever power he just received and as Cazador died the ritual was complete. Shadowheart and Karlach could only look in concern and fear as Astarion smiled.
He was free at last, but how free could he be when the chains of your death still hold him hostage? He let go of the staff as it started floating on its own and started following him. He slowly walks towards your body, still no change, but he picks you up anyway and gives a small kiss on your forehead. "Come on sweetheart, I'll get you fixed up, I promise. I'll find a way."
He started to slowly walk out of the lair, not caring if the other two would follow or not. Your body cradled closely to his chest. He looked to your lips which would feel so tender against his- now unmoving, and your eyes- he was convinced had some sort of magic in it now closed. His head filled with thoughts of the endless power and control he could have and what that power could do to bring you back to life. He looked menacing just from the way he walked, anyone who stood in his way would be destroyed. In his mind, this is what grieving felt like, an emptiness to what should be full, the weight of the world on his shoulders, and the Gods laughing at his despair.
As he approaches the elevator, the gurs stand in alert ready to confront Astarion about what he's done but for their sake, he hopes they would stand down. For a grieving monster is more terrifying than they think.
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dduane · 1 year
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For those interested in the drink covers
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Yeah, they're absolutely fabulous! Here's their story.
I first spotted them sometime in the late 2010s when @petermorwood and I were passing through Freiburg im Breisgau—that queen among medieval cities in southwestern Germany. I can't remember why we were there on that particular trip. It's a place we've both been often: occasionally on our way to Somewhere Else, sometimes specifically to go there and stay a while for the terrific yearly wine festival, or for Freiburg's own sake. (I've been there two or three times when I needed to get away and do some writing. The usual plan is to rent a holiday apartment for a week or so and buckle down: but even on such trips you get to know the city around you pretty well as you do your food shopping, etc.)
This one time we were there together, in the summertime. All the shops were full of cool summertime things that were making us salivate. And we passed by the well-known cutlery (and cookware, but mostly wonderful knives, ooo, kniiiiiiiives...) shop Ramsperger, and saw the drinks covers above in the front window, along with various picnic stuff.
As too often happens, we didn't go in and buy them right then. But a couple of years later I remembered them, and said to Peter, "We really need those, if we keep getting this good barbecue weather. I'm tired of wasps and things falling in my rosé." And he said, "Well, go find them!" So I went hunting.
Generally, because I am a persistence shopper, what I hunt I find. Eventually I tracked these guys down at Amazon.de. (There may be other sources for homeXpert goods, but I stopped there, as amazon.de happily delivers to us.)
Here they are:
"Trinkglas-Deckel Schirmchen" is more or less "Little 'Brolly' Drinking Glass Covers." They're stiff heavy plastic, and you can see how the concentric ribbing inside them will help them snug down onto just about any size of drinking glass.
At €16 for a set of six, which would probably turn into sort of $20 at the moment, I wouldn't call these cheap. (It's worse in the UK. Amazon.co.uk will charge you £23 and change for the same item.) ...Yet at the same time, if you were to buy them, you wouldn't need another set any time soon. They're solid and well made, even heavy-duty. As an anti-bug measure, they work way better than the kind of cardboard beer mats you get from bars: they're heavy enough not to blow off your glass. And the shape of them means that if it suddenly starts raining, none of the water will get in your drink.
So: 10/10, would buy again if necessary (though I can't think why that would be). And I heartily recommend them for those of you who like the look of them, and for whom the price isn't a problem.
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