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#But I can add things while I am still writing so if you think you might like
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hi this is my first time sending a request and this one was rejected by other writer so I wondered if you could write it instead. I love quinn and I was thinking about a quinn fabray x fem!reader where reader was quinn first love back in middle school in that old school of hers and they had confessed to each other. reader loved quinn since her lucy caboosey phase and you could add that russell or Judy found out and separated them and encouraged quinn to get the nose job and lose weight. anyways, reader goes to McKinley during season 2 where quinn is trying to get her life together and she snaps when reader tries to approach her using her old name they don't speak anymore but reader always look out for quinn from the sideways (she's not from the glee club but she befriends Rachel) and quinn gets even more pissed when she catches rachel mentioning you before glee starts. the whole mess with lucy caboosey gets out and they finally speaks w reader comforting Quinn. make it angsty with a happy ending do not spare our feelings😂
-🫧
Still By Your Side
You know you're staring, but you can't help it. Something about this girl in your class is so familiar. You just can't put your finger on it.
See, you used to live in Lima, but you moved away in middle school. Forced away, rather. Now you're back and junior year began at McKinley High. While you recognized a lot of people, this one person just couldn't jog your memory.
Not until her eyes bore into yours.
As soon as class ends, you pack up your things and dart after the blonde.
"Hey! Wait!"
The blonde turns around, eyebrows cocked with an annoyed look on her face. She doesn't say anything, waiting for you to tell her why you're bothering her.
You take a moment to take her in. This girl was beautiful, that's for sure. There was a grace about her to match. Even her annoyed face looked pretty. You shake the thought from your head before finally speaking.
"Lucy, right? Lucy Fabray? It's me, Y/N."
Almost immediately, a hand covers your mouth and you're shoved against the lockers. Eyes blazing with fury found your shocked ones.
"I don't care who you are. I don't care how we met. But you will NEVER utter that name ever again." She leans closer and dangerously lowers her voice. "I am not Lucy and I will never be again. I am Quinn Fabray. Lucy is dead."
She pushes off of you, shoving you further into the lockers before striding away. You just watch her leave, your heart breaking with each step she takes. You didn't even notice the person next to you until she spoke.
"Sorry about her. She's always been like that."
With a jolt of surprise, you turn to look at the short brunette next to you. There's a moment before you look towards Quinn again.
"No... Not always." A sigh escapes your lips before you turn your attention to your companion. "You're friends with Lu-er... Quinn?" The brunette lets out a soft, rueful laugh.
"Kind of? More like rivals, I guess. We're both in Glee Club together. I'm Rachel Berry." She holds out her hand, which you take to shake.
"Y/N," you reply. "Y/N Y/L."
"If you wanna get close to Quinn, you can join Glee. We always need more members anyway." She offers. You consider it for a moment before shaking your head.
"Nah. I won't bother her like that. And I'd rather get myself settled before joining any clubs." You smile. "Thanks though. Maybe in the future." Rachel returns your smile with her own wide one.
"I'll hold you to that."
-----+++++-----
As the days pass, you learn more about Quinn thanks to Rachel. Her pregnancy and the resulting fallout with her parents, her life with the Glee Club, and now her determination to return to life before her baby. It was a lot and you weren't surprised by how much it affected her. You've already decided to stay out of Quinn's way, but they didn't mean you weren't still drawn to her.
While you tried your best to avoid directly interacting with the blonde, there were times when it was inevitable. Much like when she and Santana got into a fight in the hallway and you made it a point to pull Quinn away while blocking the Latina's attacks with your body.
Quinn didn't even acknowledge you.
It wasn't ideal. Your heart squeezed in pain with every rebuff. But the love you held for her, from the moment you met Lucy, it was worth every glance.
Only once did Quinn speak to you after meeting again. It had been months of just being in her orbit. But suddenly, you're slammed against the wall.
"Stay away from Berry." She growls. "I already have to deal with you everywhere else. I don't need that dwarf opening her big mouth to speak your name."
Recovered from the push and sudden rant, you retort.
"We haven't spoken since the first day! I even honored your request, Quinn. I don't understand why you dislike me so much."
"You don't get it." She leans into your space. If you weren't so frustrated, you would've blushed. "You're the only one who knows about Lucy. About everything I had to go through because of her. You can ruin my reputation with that knowledge. How can I not hate you?"
You could only blink in shock. So much was forgotten. Or rather, repressed. After a moment, you sigh.
"Quinn... What would I gain from that?" With a slump, your head thumps against the wall. "You may have forgotten but I... I loved Lucy." You hear a soft gasp. "I still love her. Even after your parents forced me away. Even after all this time."
You finally look straight into Quinn's eyes.
"If I ever talk about Lucy, it will only be with love and adoration. But since you don't want any indication of her existence, then she'll live in my heart. I'm not here to hurt you, Quinn. You have my word."
With that last word, you push past Quinn, leaving her in the hallway. You laid everything out there and you hope the blonde would trust you.
You didn't notice the look of awe in her face.
-----+++++-----
The first thing you noticed when you walked into school the next week were the whispers. Gossip sprung up all around you. You were confused until you were faced with a poster of a familiar photo.
Lucy Caboosey.
Almost immediately, you move to look for Quinn. At the choir room, you were met with most of the New Directions. Upon seeing you, Rachel rushed up.
"Y/N!"
"What's going on?" Another girl piped up.
"Fabray was being more annoying than Rachel." You recognized her to be Lauren Zizes. "I found out her little secret and decided to even the odds for Prom Queen."
You just stared at her. "YOU WHAT!?"
Everyone jumped at your voice.
"Do you know what she had to go through because of that bullying? I basically had to be her bodyguard in middle school just so she wouldn't be pushed to do anything drastic. And. You. Bring. That. BACK!?"
It didn't matter that Zizes was twice your size and stronger. She shrunk at your rage.
"You better damn well hope I find her before I see you again."
You whirl around to continue your search for Quinn, leaving the group in fear and awe.
Eventually, you follow the trail of torn posters to a classroom where you find the blonde crying at a desk. Quietly, you take a place across from her and wait for her to acknowledge you. It didn't take long for her to look up at you with teary eyes.
"Y/N..."
You smile. "Hey, Luce. Sorry I wasn't around to protect you this time." Quinn let's out a scoff.
"Please. I pushed you away. It's my own fault." A sigh escapes her lips. "How am I going to face the school now?"
"The same way you always did."
Quinn just looks at you, confused.
"Sure, you had an outburst. But you can't let that, or your past, dictate what you do now." You reach out your hand, palm up in an inviting manner. "You show that it doesn't control you. Even if you're just faking it."
She stares at your hand.
"Why are you doing this? After everything that's happened between us." You just give her a sad smile.
"I told you before. I love Lucy. Always will. I told her that as long as I was around, I'd protect her. I intend to keep it."
A tear falls from Quinn's eyes as she looks at you with wonder. Her hand covers yours and she revels in its warmth.
"Do you think you can... Love Quinn like you did Lucy? I've changed so much since you left. I'm not Lucy Caboosey anymore."
"Quinn," you start. "I don't think I could love you like I did Lucy." The blonde wilts, her heart breaking. Her hand clutches tighter onto yours. She had been so scared of her reputation crumbling that it masked her own feelings for you. Feelings she held for so long.
Quinn's actions catch your attention and when you look into her eyes, you're struck by the emotion in them. In an instant, you're back in middle school and falling in love all over again. You let yourself stay in that moment for a bit before speaking again.
"Lucy has a special place in my heart. She's my first love." You watch as your thumb caresses Quinn's hand. "It'll always be there, but it'll never grow." Your eyes meet again. "It can grow with you though. I may not know Quinn as well as I did Lucy, but I'd like to."
The smile on your face is immediately covered by soft lips. In a surge of emotion, the blonde leaned forward to kiss you. Before you could even react, she retreats.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself..." The light blush on her face sparks another memory and your smile widens.
"And here I thought I'd be the one to break." You chuckle. Gently, you lift her hand and kiss each knuckle. "Maybe let me kiss back this time?"
Quinn's blush deepens.
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taffingspy · 15 days
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RS3's story problems these past few years is a great example of "boring characters cannot carry a good plotline"
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jokeringcutio · 1 year
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Snippet 18+ content underneath the cut. You've been warned:
“Excuse me, but what is going on?” you asked, eyes wide in disbelief. What did they want from you?
But then Arthur flipped the covers open, the blanket aside, to reveal that he was wearing a shirt with nothing underneath. Naked flesh, bare thighs. A proud and leaking shaft protruded out of a bush of greying dark hair. His cock, you thought alarmed.
“Will you help me willingly?” he then asked, voice smooth and gentle, his eyes finally upon you.
~ I have yet to find the plot / and a title. It'll come. Like the reader and Arthur come in nearly all four chapters now. It is insane. Like:
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if there's one thing i hate more than slackers in group projects its goddamn hypocrites
#this guy did jack shit for two full weeks when we're building the damn prototype#but STILL brought up the fact that most of our team blew off a report till the last minute in the beginning of march#*prototypes don't work* “sEe tHis iS wHy wE nEedEd tO hAvE a cOnvErsaTioN aBouT MS3”#like hon you lost the rights to the “y'all need to contribute more” argument the moment you left me hanging for 2-3 FUCKING WEEKS#like excuuuuuse me you been prioritizing extra curriculars all week get off your high horse stop lecturing everyone else about contribution#he made maybe 3 contributions? maybe?#first he 3D modeled an adapter and sent it to someone else to print (couldn't even do THAT himself smh)#then he sent the gc a sketch of an idea i roughly proposed literally the NIGHT BEFORE as his own contribution (that I ENDED UP BUILDING#then he...screwed on a few pipe fittings and called it a project :)#would be a LOT less pissed if he didn't show up to One Thing outside weekly team meetings/class#then apologize for slacking off BUT then launch into a FUCKING SPEECH ABOUT HOW HIM BEING HERE PROVES HIS COMMITTMENT#all because he DOESN'T LIKE GETTING UP EARLY. like sir. sir i am rIGHT FUCKING HERE. i was up till 4-5am working on this stfu#we've been building for three weeks and he's come into work on stuff wo me there ONCE for an HOUR#for context id spent about fifteen hours in the shop alone working on the fucking thing that WEEK#like im trying to be understanding ik tech week is hell#but i took “stepping back” as “i only have a few hours here and there to be in the shop and will do the writeups”#NOT “won't show up outside meetings AND we're splitting slides and writeups 80/20”#like id been in the lab all fuckin day and notice we have an assignment due (missed a SINGLE meeting due to exam)#and i ask him if theres anything i can do (and im thinking like look it over maybe add a spec or two)#and this fucker has the AUDACITY to ask me to write the full four paragraph summary cause he#*checks notes* copy-pasted some specs from milestone 3 so of COURSE its only fair that despite the fact I've been in the lab ALL DAY#that i write the four fuckin paragraphs too#course we're troubleshooting and he's like “did you clean the pump? did you disassemble it and rinse it?” like yes???#i did EVERYTHING i could think of before i even bothered texting you cause i know you're fucking useless#and then he raises fifteen different concerns which while valid would have been NICE TO HEAR WHEN I SENT YOU MY INITIAL DESIGNS#y'know BEFORE i spent over fifteen hours of my free time building this damn thing#with slackers i just pick up the work and move on with my life this idiot is trying to gaslight me into thinking that he contributed fairly#when i heard “i need to step back due to play stuff” i thought we'd be splitting it like 65:35 NOT FUCKING 95:5#and now hes probably going to give ME a poor peer review because I've been passive aggressive with him in the few meetings he showed up to#like i got shit going on too? how the fuck does he expect me to respond to being abandoned to do this shit myself
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actual-changeling · 6 months
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we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).
there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.
we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.
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then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.
now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.
i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.
that's exactly what he does.
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he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".
glasses? on
emotions? off
hotel? trivago
i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.
by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:
aziraphale notices.
they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.
look.
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he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.
aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).
the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.
can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?
because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.
anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3
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oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.
and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?
easy answer: no.
alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.
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rthko · 3 months
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to add to the whole proud faggot thing: i rmbr at age 15 me and my friend (both newly out) would say faggot all the time until a teacher told us off and my friend (v cocky) said actually miss i can reclaim it to which the teacher was like ...its still a swear word ur still not allowed to use it like its not that deep. and that was a sort of revelation like 'oh yeah this word obvs holds meaning and whatever but at the end of the day us reclaiming it isnt revolutionary its just two kids who got their hands on a new curse word to use' & ever since then i try to figure out whoevers using faggot in a useful or meaningful way vs whoever is just excited to use a forbidden word. n i think for a lot of ppl its the latter
So for context, I saw a post where someone had left a comment with Israel apologia, and someone else responded by screenshotting their blog, which has a cutesy Tumblr aesthetic, and added a screenshot of another post about what it called "Smol bean Zionism." I noticed the blogger's bio also said "proud faggot," so I tagged the post:
"Are we ready to admit the 'proud faggot' is not contradictory to the smol beanification but part and parcel to it?"
I see sentiments on Tumblr that "I call myself a faggot to scare the tenderqueers," but I think the cute harmless approach and the edgy approach are two sides of the same coin. Molly Rose on substack writes about how she as a Black woman could never get away with "tenderqueer" behavior. She writes: "As far as I can tell, the hallmark of a true tenderqueer is an unwavering avoidance of responsibility or culpability at all costs, paired with the use of social justice and personal advocacy language to ensure that lack of accountability." The real problem with this type then is not that they're too sensitive, but that their sensitivity is a tool by which they act like they could never be in the wrong. So we see a soft type and an edgy type, but both wear their victimhood on their sleeve to feign superiority and avoid any kind of interpersonal conflict. The former will invoke queerness or neurodivergence to guilt trip you, and the latter will act above it all and treat you like you're stupid for even caring. It's "enough discourse, we should be making out with tongue" when trans women try to talk about transmisogyny, etc.
With all these discussions of the "tenderqueer," It's easy to forget that "queer" was that transgressive word said to connote political radicalism, or rather, speak political radicalism into existence just by uttering that very word. And while I have heard people prop up "fag" and it's equivalents as the solution when the former has been watered down, they are not getting to the root of the problem. If the problem is that some have turned the supposed magical powers of a word into a political dead end, the solution is not to go find other magical words to replace it. I am aware and respectful of the fact that to some, these words really are a political statement, or a symbolic gesture that they're not afraid or have moved beyond past wounds. Any word is what you make it. But to get back to your point, yeah, some people have that same teenager's mentality of getting their hands on a new curse word. And it does not automatically make them meaningfully transgressive or even interesting.
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buckys-wintersoldier · 4 months
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Already mine | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Female!Reader
Summary -> Bucky and you are fake dating for a mission, when the two of you are out for dinner you tell him about your planned date with someone. But Bucky isn’t really happy about it and makes sure to show you that you’re already his.
Warnings -> (E) Minors DNI, 18+, smut, slight chocking, kinda public fingering (not really), fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, squirting, breeding kink, jealous/possessive Bucky, bit of miscommunication
Wordcount -> 3.4K
Request -> I am absolutely foaming at the mouth as i think about this request i'm just ASHWUWHEU. okay, i'm sorry. hello! i wanted to order (👀) something from your smut menu which would be !!! fake dating (i gobble this up every time), jealous!bucky (when he's POSSESSIVEEE like yes please), and breeding kink (don't look at me like that...) idk if you allow additional details, but maybe some miscommunication/misunderstanding? god, i love that little pain before the delicious fluff & smut. 🥹 but you don't have to add that bit if it's not allowed! back to freaking out JDAJJDWJIDWKDO omg if you do write this, i will forever be thankful JDIANDKWMFKFKKEFKKR THANK YOU!
A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I tried to include everything, I added a few things and I hope you like it. My askbox is open so feel free to send and ask, as well as that feel free to send a request for the Bucky Barnes Smut Menu.
Prompt -> Fandom-Free Bingo | B4 | Multiple Orgasm | @fandom-free-bingo
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Smut Menu | Fandom-Free Bingo | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Part two
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You’re standing in front of your mirror; your red dress fits perfectly around your body, and you only need to fix your hair before you’re ready for your date with Bucky, or at least your fake date with him. The two of you are on a mission right now, dating each other, so no one will know that you're Avengers.
You hear the bathroom door opening and a gasp leaving Bucky's lips. With his eyes on you, he admires your back before his eyes move to look through the mirror. You smile softly when you see his blue eyes looking up and down, trying to see every inch of your body.
“You look beautiful, doll,” he tells you, and the feeling in your stomach, the one you have just with Bucky, grows.
You’re best friends, but something between the two of you changed. There are feelings for each other you have never felt for someone before. And now that you’re going on a date with him, even if it’s just a fake date, it feels like he really asked you out.
“Thank you, you too,” you mumble with a slight blush on your cheeks.
He walks a step closer and leans his shoulder against the wall. His hands running through his hair, the shirt, and his pants look like they were made for him.
“Can we?” he asks, smirking when you try to get your hair under control.
You nod while you turn around and fix your hair, walking a few steps closer to Bucky. His eyes are still on you, focused on every move you’re making. Bucky's nose is slightly scrunched while he smirks at you.
His hands are immediately around your waist when he is able to reach you, bringing your body closer to his. Bucky leans forward until he reaches your ear.
“When this would be a real date and not only for that mission, I would immediately help you to take off your clothes,” he mumbles into your ear, and you shiver slightly, pressing your thighs together to stop the arousal dripping down your legs.
Bucky chuckles softly, noticing your action, but he doesn’t say anything. He moves a few inches away from you and looks your body up and down before he holds his hand out so you can place yours in his.
“Ready?” he asks — Bucky, the 40’s gentleman in front of you — and you can’t stop but smile softly.
You place your hand in his, and then he walks through the room with you. His fingers are holding your hand tightly, but it is still soft in his hand. He smiles when he moves a strand of his hair behind his hair, then he opens the door and lets you walk through it before he follows you.
That’s something you love about Bucky. You've never met someone with that kind of charm and kindness before. He treats women like a gentleman, buying them flowers and asking them out to go to the cinema, and he takes care that his girl has everything she needs. You know those things because you have seen him with some women before — the way he smiled when he was buying flowers and presenting them to you, or when he asked for advice for date ideas in this century. You smiled and told him a few ideas, but inside your chest was a heavy feeling when you saw him with the other women, touching her and smiling at her in a way you would love him to look at you.
Bucky's hand is still holding yours when you walk through the corridor. You feel that tingling feeling in your stomach, and when you look at him, you need to concentrate so you won’t stare at him for the rest of the evening.
His jaw is relaxed, but his jawline is still visible. Bucky's blue eyes focused on the people around him, but his lips formed into a cute smile. You could look at him the whole time, but he caught you. He turns his head around and narrows his eyebrows.
“Do I distract you from the mission?” he asks, chuckling.
“No, it’s just- I wanted to make sure you’re focused,” you tell him.
“You checked that for five minutes already.”
His words make you blush, and you feel so embarrassed, but his beauty is just too much for you to look away from. The brown-haired man laughs before he walks through the door into the restaurant of the hotel.
You really looked at him for that long? You walked down the stairs, through two floors, and you weren't able to get your eyes off him? You definitely need to stop acting like that when you’re near him; otherwise, your mission won’t work the way Tony wants it.
He leads you to a table; it’s quiet there, and you enjoy the moment where it’s just the two of you. But when you see the people you’re looking for, you sigh softly. With a nod, you show Bucky you see them, and he turns his head softly.
They don’t look like criminals, but you read their files, and they are definitely criminals. They supported Hydra and still do, which is why you’re following them, and now it’s on you and Bucky to get to know where their hidden base is.
You listen a while to them before you look at Bucky with a serious gaze. When he feels you looking at him, he looks up from his plate, showing you he listens to you.
“Buck, you know we- we are best friends, right?”
He nods, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. His hand clenches softly around the fork, slightly sweating what you would like to tell him.
“And this whole dating thing is. Yeah, it’s really cool, but-“ you interrupt yourself. With a deep breath, you look down at your plate before looking back into Bucky's eyes, glistening with curiosity. “It’s just- as you said, 'when this wouldn’t be fake dating’ I don’t think we should. Bucky I love you, but I am dating someone else; he asked me out for dinner tomorrow,” you mumble, not really knowing why you tell him about it.
“Oke,” he says with a cold voice.
“Don’t be mad, please.”
“I’m not.”
You raise your eyebrow, knowing that he is mad at you. But there is no reason for him to be mad, right? The two of you are best friends, and he probably doesn't like you in the same way you do. But you can’t risk your friendship, so you just try to date the other guy; he is nice and handsome, and you can learn to love him, can’t you?
Bucky mumbles something to himself before he almost breaks the plate with the fork, smashing it down on it. His hand into a fist, and you can already see his knuckles turning white, his jaw clenching while his eyes are focused on you.
“Buck?” you ask softly, his eyes turning dark, but he is still quiet. “Could you try and not destroy the plate?”
He chuckles darkly, smashing the fork on the plate once more and breaking it. He smiles when he sees the damage in front of him and the sauce slowly flowing over the table.
You sigh softly, reaching for his hand to place yours around his. Bucky stands up, pulling his hand away, before he walks around the table and places his hand around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up from the chair, making you look slightly up into his eyes. Bucky is towering over you, his tongue slipping over his lips.
“You can’t fuck someone else,” he tells you. His voice is deep, and it causes a shiver along your spine.
“What? Why can’t I? I’m an adult, and I can do whatever I want,” you say, not as confident as always, but you try your best to sound confident.
He laughs darkly and roughly. Bucky’s grip around your throat tightens, and he pulls you even closer. With his firm chest pressing against your front, you feel his muscular body through the fabric of your clothes.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, and he lets go of you.
Bucky turns around and walks out of the restaurant. Your jaw drops open slightly, and you look while he makes his way until he reaches the door and pushes it open. You need a moment to realize his words when you sit down to calm yourself down. You feel the eyes of all the other people around you.
Your cheeks heat up, and you want to run out of the room too, but your legs feel so shaky that you can’t do a step without holding yourself up at something. You put some money on the table and get up again, holding yourself to the chairs and slowly following your best friend.
When you finally walk out of the restaurant, you see Bucky leaning against the wall. His eyes are dark, and he looks at you with a cold expression.
He walks a step closer, towering over you. With a fast movement, his hand is around your throat once more, and he pushes you against the wall. It’s a loose grip but strong enough to hold you where he wants you.
“You’re mine, and I will fill you with my babies so everyone sees you’re mine,” he tells you with a slight smile on his lips.
You whimper; your hands are around his arm, but just to ground yourself.
“Bucky-“
“I smell you; I can fucking smell you. I see the way you look at me, the way you press your thighs together,” he says, chuckling darkly.
“It’s not,” you interrupt yourself. “I have a date tomorrow.”
The laugh that leaves his lips lets you shiver; goosebumps are all over your body, and you can’t stop the arousal growing between your folds. But if he is your best friend and you work together, you can’t be together, can you?
“Yeah?” he asks, and you nod.
Bucky lets go of you and walks a step away from you. He nods his head in the direction of your shared bedroom.
“Tell me you don’t want me, or I will carry you into our room and make sure who you belong to,” he tells you, his blue eyes looking almost into your soul, and you need a moment to handle his words and the way he looks at you.
“Bucky, I have a date.”
“Tell me you don’t want me.”
“I-“ you look down, playing with your hands in front of you.
Bucky laughs and steps closer again; his fingers find their way under your chin and make you look up at him. His eyes glistening with lust, his tongue slipping over his lips, before he leans closer until there are only a few more inches between the two of you.
“Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you and make you pregnant with my babies, doll,” he mumbles.
You feel his breathing on your lips. Before you can answer, you wrap your arms automatically around his neck and press him closer to you. Your lips meet his for a sweet but passionate kiss.
Bucky's hand finds its way down your body until he reaches between your legs and pushes your dress higher to slide his fingers over the fabric of your panties.
You moan when you feel the cold of the metal through your panties. His fingers draw small circles on your clit, making you throw your head back. Bucky uses the moment to attack your neck with kisses, and he bites softly into the sensitive skin.
“Bucky, please,” you whimper, pushing your hips against his hand.
“Let’s go to our room; don’t want others to hear what’s only meant to be for me,” he tells you, and you blush slightly.
Bucky takes his hand away from your folds and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up. Your legs are around his waist when he walks with you along the floor to the bedroom the two of you share right now. The mission is completely forgotten. It’s just the two of you — you and Bucky.
It doesn’t take long for your super soldier to carry you into the room and lock the door before he places you on the bed. He stands in front of you, his eyes roaming over your body.
“Strip,” he demands.
“Do it by yourself, old man." you laugh, but the way he looks at you lets you be quiet immediately.
“I can do it, but I don’t think I can hold back then.”
You swallow hard, your eyes focused on him, and the way he takes a step forward and closer to you lets you shiver once more. His aura, his eyes, he makes you go crazy, so you do what he tells you.
“Could you- Can you open the zipper, please?” you ask, and Bucky nods, stepping closer.
His firm chest is almost pressed against your face when he reaches his hands over your shoulders and opens your dress. Bucky lets his hands slide down over your shoulders, holding the fabric in his hand and exposing your shoulders.
Then he takes a step back. You nod as a thank you, standing up and letting the fabric slide down.
“You're pretty, and all mine,” he tells you, reaching out his hands to touch your waist.
Bucky pulls you closer, his hand sliding up your back. He opens your bra and throws it away. Bucky's metal hand captures one of your breasts. You moan softly when his cold hand meets your warm flesh.
He leads you back to the bed until you sit there once again. Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, and you smile mischievously.
“Don’t smile like that; you make me jealous and want me to share what’s mine. I will give you all my cum, and you will beg for more,” he groans, pushing you down so you lay on your back.
Your best friend lowers his head and kisses your pussy through the fabric of your panties. Your hands find their way, and you grip his hair to ground yourself. He uses his hand to push your parties to the side, licking through your folds before he groans.
“You taste better than I thought,” he mumbles, pushing his tongue against your entrance.
“Bucky, more- please,” you moan, arching your back.
He chuckles but does what you want and pushes his tongue inside of you. His metal fingers joining his tongue, he moves one of the fingers inside of you, curling it. With your walls clenching around him, you moan loudly and throw your head back.
Bucky pushes another of his fingers inside of you, pushing them until he reaches his knuckles, and then he pulls them out of you again. After a few more thrusts, he finds your sweet spot, pressing his fingers against it. Your wet and warm walls clench around him, making it almost impossible for him to move his fingers.
“I’m so close. Bucky, please,” you beg, but he stops his movements and removes his fingers.
He sits up and looks at his fingers; they are glistening with your slick, and you blush when he pushes them into his mouth to suck them clean. Bucky groans and takes his clothes off as well.
First his shirt, then he stands up to open his belt and pushes his pants down. You look at him, following his movements with your eyes. You gasp when you see the bulge of his growing dick in his boxers.
“Like what you see, doll?” he asks, and you nod, looking into his face and discovering his body before you stare at his member again.
Bucky pushes the fabric down. His dick springs free, the tip already leaking with pre-cum, and he wraps one of his hands around his member, stroking himself a few times while his eyes are on you.
“Don’t know how often I have imagined that already,” he groans.
You sit up and move yourself further onto the bed. Your legs are spread, and Bucky joins you in bed. He sits between your legs, his dick still sliding through his hand. Bucky slides his tip through your wet folds, groaning when he feels the warmth and wetness. Then he lines himself up with your entrance.
You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him closer, pressing your lips on his and biting his lip softly while he pushes inside of you. Bucky pushes himself further into you, slowly, so he won’t hurt you. He is focused on your expression, making sure to stop when he could hurt you.
“Move, please,” you say and throw your head back when he suddenly pushes the rest of his dick inside of you.
Bucky is balls deep inside of you. He groans softly when you clench around him. Your hands are still wrapped around his neck while he thrusts his hips, moving his dick between your tight walls.
He hits your sweet spot with every movement, making you clench around him more. You moan whenever he thrusts inside of you. The pleasure in your body feels overwhelming, but you love it.
“He could fuck you like that,” Bucky says, kissing your forehead and thrusting inside of you harder. “And he can't love you the way I do. I will fuck you so full with my cum that, doll,” he adds and groans.
“Bucky faster.”
Your best friend chuckles and does what you want. He moves faster and harder inside of you. You can feel the veins on his cock, his dick hitting every right spot inside of you.
His hand finds its way to your clit playing with it while he thrusts in a steady rhythm inside of you. The way you clench around him and your moans get louder, he knows you will cum with a few more thrusts.
“Come for me; scream my name while you cum all over my dick. And I will give you all of my cum; fill you so much; after that, you’re pregnant with my babies,” he mumbles into your ear.
The moment he tells you, you feel the pleasure in your stomach grow until you squirt all over Bucky. The orgasm and the pleasure in your body are better than you ever felt before, and you say his name over and over again while he fucks you through your orgasm.
You’re already overstimulated, but Bucky still thrusts his hips further against yours. You’re a morning mess, your hands tugging on his hair. And you feel the next orgasm building when he still rubs circles on your clit.
“Oh fuck, will give you all of my cum; don’t think this little pussy can take it all,” he groans.
With a few more movements, he cums inside of you and pulls you over the edge with him. Bucky lets his head fall down on your shoulder. His breath is heavy like yours, and he slowly calms down. You slide your fingers through his hair while his dick is still inside of you, and you feel his cum inside of you — cum painting your walls.
“Now you’re mine, and only mine,” Bucky tells you, biting into your neck. “And you will carry my babies, won’t you?”
“I will,” you say, and chuckle when he lifts himself up and kisses your lips.
“My doll, my wonderful, precious doll.”
Bucky slowly pulls out of you, his eyes focused on the spot where your body was connected and where his cum is dripping out of you now. Then he looks up at you again and smiles.
“I love you; I don’t want to be just your best friend. I want to be yours; I want you to be mine,” he confesses, leaning over you again.
“I love you too, and I want nothing more than to be yours. I wanted to date the guy because I wasn’t able to tell you what I felt. I was scared you didn’t feel the same, but you do. And I’m yours, all yours, Buck,” you say, and he nods, kissing you passionately.
“Let’s clean ourselves, and then we should look to see if our people are still eating or if we cuddle after taking a warm bubble bath." Bucky laughs, and you chuckle, and he lifts you up to go to the bathroom and take a bath together.
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oh-theseus · 7 days
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bloody stones
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pairing: astarion x gn!reader, astarion x gn!tav summary: you nearly die and astarion still can't bring himself to be honest with you. word count: 4,018 a/n: first time trying to write for astarion (or just bg3 in general) & i'm not sure it came out how i wanted it to, BUT i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless <333 i kind of wrote this to be like a background for a future thing i think... but no promises bc i am anything if not inconsistent 😭
warnings: descriptions of blood & injury, canon typical violence, mentions of past abuse. lmk if i should add more!
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You were fairly certain you had never been as close to death as you currently were. Even while trapped inside of the nautiloid ship, you had felt like you would make it out. Granted, that might have been because you thought Lae’zel was going to kill you if you died, but still. Even then, on a ship that was actively crashing from hundreds of miles in the sky, you’d thought you’d make it out.
That hope is nowhere to be found as Z’rell drives her ax into your lower leg. You have been injured in battle dozens of times but this is the first time your injury has ever made you fall to your knees within three seconds of receiving it. There is next to no pain at first, but then she pulls her ax from your leg, and it feels like… well, like your leg was just split open.
Blood gushes down your leg, and you can’t stand up again, but by the grace of one of the gods, you manage to block her next attack. Her ax meets the blade of your sword with a loud clang that you can hear over the sounds of other blades clashing and spells being conjured. Anger blazes in Z’rell’s eyes and she surges her weapon further with as much strength as she can muster. You met her with the same effort, but you’re losing so much blood so fast. You’re not nearly as strong as she is.
A noise that is somewhere between a cry and a grunt falls from your lips. But you are certain this is it. You’ll die here. In Moonrise Towers with a parasite wiggling within your skull. You’ll die in a blighted land and your friends will go on without you. If they survive, that is. You can feel your arms wobbling, about to give out. Her ax will come down on your neck and you’ll sit here choking on your own blood until you die. Maybe she’ll dig the Illithid parasite out of your skull and consume it just as your Dream Guardian had urged you to do so many times before. You doubt Z’rell would have qualms about it though - if fact, she might just keep you alive while she digs around in your skull. She seems like the type.
But then there’s an arrow embedded in Z’rell’s neck. And now she’s the one choking on her blood, her weapon faltering. You don’t have time to be grateful, not when she’s determined to make a killing blow and take you out with her. It takes all of your effort to roll out of the way, her ax bouncing off of the bloody stone floor where your head had just been seconds previous. Your head is spinning from the movement, and your leg feels like dead weight, but you manage to draw your dagger and shove it deep into the disciples stomach.
Z’rell falls to her knees. Then forward, onto her face. Dead. 
Hands are underneath your arms, dragging you away from the rest of the battle before you even have time to process that you aren’t dead. You have half a mind to kick and struggle, but when you try to push the hands off of your body you stop your fighting. You know these hands.
“Astarion,” you choke out, tilting your head upwards to see him above you, carefully dragging you behind a turned over table. You can feel a trail of blood being left by your leg; for a moment you wonder if Astarion had smelled your blood before he saw it.
“Don’t talk,” Astarion scolds, propping your back against the table. Blood is splattered on his face and armor, his bow slung across his body. Your eyes shift to his quiver where only three arrows remain. If you weren’t so busy trying not to pass out from blood loss, you might have told him you were right when you’d told him this morning he needed more arrows. But you can hardly convince yourself to breathe, let alone make a joke.
Astarion’s face is twisted into an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen him wear before. There is determination there as he examines your wound, cursing beneath his breath. There’s concern too. But something else dances in his crimson eyes that makes you tilt your head to the side curiously. 
Fear.
Astarion is scared. 
“How bad?” you force out, leaning your head back against the overturned table. Your eyes lock on the ceiling of Moonrise. This had been a temple once. Briefly, as you fight to keep your eyes open, you decide that it might’ve even been beautiful.
“Not terrible,” Astarion lies. You know it’s a lie, and he knows you know that, too. You might’ve looked at him, tried to assure him you would be okay if you believed it. But you’re not quite sure that you do, so you keep your eyes on the ceiling, listening to the sounds of battle slowing down behind you.
Astarion stops talking after that. Your silence and sudden interest in the ceiling is enough to make Astarion certain his heart will start beating again just so it can race in fear. But his hands are quick in grabbing a healing potion from your belt and helping you get it down. They’re faster still as he shuffles through his discarded back for cloth to press to your wound. 
Blood quickly soaks the white cloth and Astarion’s hands, but the vampire doesn’t mind. He can’t be bothered to think about how potent your blood smells, how easy it would be to just take some for himself. He is certain that if you’d been bleeding out in front of him like this when you first met that he would’ve taken every last drop of blood that he could get. But right now… Astarion wasn’t sure he had ever wanted to puke at the sight of blood more.
Astarion isn’t sure he’s ever felt a panic quite like this before. Perhaps when he’d woken up in a coffin six feet underground. Maybe when he’d realized he was a slave to an evil vampire lord. But other than that? No, Astarion had never felt fear like this. Fear that clutches him by the throat, makes his hands start to tremble. Fear that won’t let him focus on the battle coming to end. Not even to see if his companions - his friends - had survived. All he knows is you, your blood coating his hands, and terror coursing through his entire being.
He’s so consumed by his fear that he doesn’t notice you’ve finally passed out. Nor does he hear Shadowheart approach until she’s shoving Astarion away from you, her hands immediately coming to rest above the gash in your leg. She starts to mutter the words of a healing spell and even Astarion can tell that she’s completely spent, that she’s using her last bit of magic and strength to coax your skin back together.
“Wake them up,” Shadowheart hisses, her eyes still locked on your leg. “Wake them up now, Astarion!”
The near crack in Shadowheart’s voice stirs Astarion from his fear driven stupor. His hands are on your face immediately, your name falling from his lips once, twice. His fingers find the pulsepoint at your neck, and Astarion doesn’t dare to move until he feels it. It’s faint, but it is there.
But your eyes are still closed, and no matter how hard Astarion tries, you will not wake up. You’re still breathing, but it’s hard and labored, and Astarion is certain that if he looks away from you for even a moment you will be gone for good. He didn’t know much, but Astarion did know that a world without you was not one he was willing to return to.
By the grace of… something, Shadowheart manages to mend the skin of your leg. She’s exhausted and can hardly stand by the time she’s finished, but she does it. You’re still out cold, and Astarion is not sure whether to start crying or to find something else to kill to distract himself.
“It’s the blood loss,” Wyll assures him quickly, hauling Shadowheart up from the ground with her arm over his shoulders. “They’ll live. But we need to move them. Now.”
The Blade of Frontiers does not waste another moment, leading Shadowheart across the main floor of Moonrise Towers, down into the basement. Astarion doesn’t hesitate to do the same with you, his blood coated hands holding you so, so carefully.
When you wake up, you’re pretty sure you’re dead. You didn’t know what you expected the afterlife to hold, but it certainly was not a stone floor and the smell of mildew. For a second you think that maybe you could be somewhere else (somewhere where you are not dead) but you can’t think very clearly right now. All you can feel is a distant throbbing in your head and a bone deep cold. Your leg… You could feel your leg. That was good, considering the last thing you could recall before passing out was taking Z’rell’s ax to your shin.
And Astarion. You remembered his familiar grip, pulling you to safety. You remembered his crimson eyes, the fear you’d seen in them. But that was it. You didn’t remember passing out or how light you had felt while blood seeped from your leg. For a moment, it troubles you that you can’t remember. But if this was truly your eternal resting place… maybe it was a good thing you couldn’t remember. You’re not sure that it's really something you’d enjoy dwelling on for the rest of eternity.
You’re not sure how long you lay there. You don’t move your body, and your eyes keep falling closed every once in a while. You feel lightheaded, yet impossibly heavy at the same time. All you can bring yourself to do is stare at the ceiling. Maybe there is a god here, because you’re gifted the memory of doing the very same thing before passing out the first time. And this ceiling looks remarkably similar to the one in Moonrise Towers.
That voice, too. The one you can hear in the distance - almost as if they are shouting for you from the other room. The voice is so similar to…
“Astarion?” You breathe out, your eyes finally shifting away from the ceiling. They fall instead to the person beside you. At first, they’re just a jumble of white curls and red eyes. But then your vision clears and so does your hearing. Astarion’s repeating your name, asking if you can hear him. All you can do is nod. At least you know you’re alive, though. Or at least, you’re pretty sure. Your brain is still foggy. The lingering effects of blood loss? Or perhaps one too many healing potions?
You somehow manage to force yourself into a sitting position. Astarion’s right hand splays against your lower back carefully, his left one hovering in front of your body to catch you if you fold in on yourself. When you straighten your back, the room spins so fast you’re certain that Gale’s cast a spell to make it do that. Your hands grip Astarion’s left arm to keep from falling over.
“Easy, easy,” Astarion says softly. You’re not certain of many things right now, but you are certain that you have never heard Astarion use that tone before. One so gentle, so soft. Even when he’d told you of Cazador and the scar that tainted his back. 
“I’m okay,” you reply after a moment. Your hands still grip his arm but neither of you seem to mind it. “I’m okay, promise.” The sentiment is just as much for yourself as it is for Astarion.
Astarion only hums in reply. His eyes are flickering over your face. Like he’s taking you in for the first time - or perhaps even the last. His hand on your back is a welcome weight and the feeling of his forearm under your fingertips keeps you grounded. This is real. You are here.
You are alive.
“Holy shit,” you curse. Your eyes widen and your breathing slowly begins to pick up. You’d been so close to dying, to bleeding out in a cursed land so far from home. You’d never thought you’d be one to care so much about something like this, but the fear that you could’ve died is gripping you by the throat, pinning you beneath its clutches. 
Astarion notices this. Of course he notices. He notices everything about you. The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. How you shift your weight from foot to foot when unsure about something. How your hands flex when you’re growing frustrated. So of course he notices your breathing picking up, your grip on his arms becoming just slightly tighter.
“You’re okay, you’re okay. You need to breathe, love.” He says your name softly then, still in that foreign tone of his. The hand at your back comes up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone. “Breathe,” his voice is firmer now, one you’re used to from him. Maybe it’s that tone of his that compels you to listen. Maybe it’s his hand cradling your face like you might slip away as soon as he lets you go. Or maybe it’s the fact that his eyes are still swimming with that fear you’d seen before you lost consciousness.
It takes a few moments, but you manage to even out your breathing. Those invisible claws at your neck retract, fading into the shadows of the room. The basement of Moonrise Towers, you realize. That was why the ceiling looked similar to the one upstairs. 
Everything returns to you then. The battle, Ketheric, the ax, the amount of blood you’d lost. Astarion’s arrow in Z’rell’s neck.
“You killed her,” you say, as if Astarion had not killed dozens of other enemies during your travels. “Nice aim.”
Astarion visibly deflates as soon as the joke leaves your lips. Your lips quirk into the smallest of smiles despite yourself. But then Astarion retracts his hand from your face, and that small smile falls away slowly. Astarion pretends not to notice it. You pretend like you don’t either; your attention shifts to your right leg, studying the skin exposed by the large tear in your pants. You make a mental note to find new pants.
Your hand trembles slightly as you remove it from Astarion’s arm and bring it down on your leg. Gingerly, you pull the ruined fabric back more and take in where the wound should have been. Instead, your skin looks near perfect. There is a thin scar from where Shadowheart’s healing had knitted the skin together but that is the only indication that your flesh had been torn apart that very same day.
“For a woman who worshiped the Lady of Loss, Shadowheart was rather good at keeping me - us from losing you.”
Your eyes shift to Astarion’s at his slip. You try to not let your face fall when he pulls his arm from beneath your other hand. He leans back in the chair that matches the table you’re laid out on top of, crossing his arms and screwing his face into that expression you’ve grown to recognize as a mask. A flash of hurt floods through you. Selfishly, you wonder how much more you will need to do to prove yourself before Astarion finally, finally trusts you.
“Shadowheart is a good healer,” you say instead of what you want to say. You want to comment on him being scared. You want to point out that he had literally saved your life. You want to tell him that that is not something you just do for someone you’re looking at with sheer indifference. “I think you’re the only one who doubts her.” Your own tone has changed. Despite the hurt in your heart, your tone is sharp.
“I do not doubt her, my dear. I don’t trust her. There is a difference,” Astarion replies with a wave of his hand. You don’t like this game. You hate this game. Why must he insist on playing it?
“Do you trust anyone, Astarion?”
If you were anyone else, Astarion would’ve had a quick retort. Or if you’d said it with anger in your voice. But you’re you and the question comes out with far less frustration than you had wanted it to. Instead, you sound sad. Hurt. And somehow, seeing you look like this is almost as bad as watching you bleed out. He predicts your next words before you say them, but he still winces at them all the same.
“Do you trust me?”
Your question hangs in the air between the two of you. Maybe it’s the lack of blood in your system that makes you say it. You never would have dared to ask something so vulnerable just a few feet from the rest of your companions normally. Maybe it’s the fact that you had almost died. Almost died with so many unsaid words swimming through your mind. Maybe that’s why you say it. Or maybe you’re just tired of not knowing what Astarion is truly thinking and feeling.
“You know I care for you,” Astarion replies after a moment. And you do know - how could you not when you’d seen his fear at the prospect of losing you with your own two eyes. How could you not know that he cared for you when he was so gentle every time he took your blood? How could you not know that he cared for you when he had sat beside you on sleepless nights? 
But that was not what your question was. 
“That’s not what I asked.” You intend to sound firm still. You fail, though, and you sound every bit as hurt and frustrated as you feel. “Why not?” Why didn’t he trust you? Or better, why did he not trust you enough? He trusted you enough to tell you about Cazador and what his former master had done to him. But he didn’t trust you enough to be honest about his emotions - especially his emotions towards you. Why? Why?
You watch as Astarion shifts in his seat. At first, you think he’s going to get up and walk away from you. Instead, he shifts forward, and his left hand finds yours. Your eyes fall to where your skin meets, they watch as Astarion holds your hand on top of his gently. His own attention is drawn to it, watching carefully as his other hand fidgets with your fingers.
“I thought you were going to die.”
His confession is soft, heartfelt. You might even be able to convince yourself he sounds like he might cry. But when he looks up to meet your eyes again, his crimson eyes are clear of tears. But there is pain there. Pain and torment and that fear. 
“I thought you were going to die and I would… And I would have to live with -” He gestures to himself with his hand that had been fidgeting with your fingers. “This.”
Your eyebrows knit together at his words, but you say nothing. You had long since learned that when Astarion was on the verge of opening up, it was best to let him get the words out on his own. Pressuring him had never gotten you anywhere. Well, except for right now. Every other time it had been entirely fruitless. 
“You have shown a kindness to me that I am unfamiliar with. With Cazador… His version of kindness was letting me eat instead of starving. But it always had a price. Always,” he can’t look at you anymore, instead looking intently at your hand in his. “Your kindness - I am learning - comes freely.”
“You are waiting for the other boot to drop,” You say, understanding what he is trying to tell you without directly saying it. When he nods, you swallow thickly. Words seem to fail you as you search desperately for the right thing to say. But there are no words that feel good enough.
Astarion also seems to be at a loss for words. Carefully, you place your hand not holding his under his chin and tilt his face upwards, so that your eyes meet once more. Your hand slides to cup his cheek, and your heart swells when you feel him press into your touch gently. 
“I am not him.”
Astarion’s eyes close at your words. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything except sit there for a long moment. So long that you think he isn’t going to reply. But then he turns his head, and he kisses the palm of your hand. Then where your hand meets your wrist. Then the inside of your wrist. As he places the third kiss to your skin, you let your hand fall away and watch as he picks it up with his free hand.
He doesn’t say it, but you know he understands. He knows you are not Cazador. And you don’t say it, but he knows you understand. You know he is trying. And neither of you say it, but both of you see those three words swimming in each other’s eyes. But you both know they’re there.
“Thank you,” you say after a long minute. “For not letting me die. Not that I expected you to, but…”
But you knew he wouldn’t have saved you a few weeks ago. 
“I mean it. Thank you.”
The fear in Astarion’s eyes finally melts away and that smirk of his falls onto his lips. But this was not his mask - no, this was his real joy. His real happiness at your not being dead and at being able to let a joke slip past his lips knowing you didn’t expect anything because of it.
“I can think of a few ways you could show that gratitude,” he says suggestively. A smile of your own spreads across your face, despite the color that floods it, too. Weakly, you shove his hands off of yours and roll your eyes at him. “You are welcome. I’ll save you a thousand times over if it means I get to see your smile once more.”
“Oh, don’t get soft on me now,” You say through your grin. But you’d like nothing more. A soft Astarion meant a healed one, a safe one. If that meant you were subjected to a few sappy lines here and there, you wouldn’t mind it.
“Hard to be soft with you around.”
“Astarion,” You hiss, realizing the joke you’ve walked yourself right into. For a second you debate getting off of the table and smacking him over the head, but when you shift your leg just slightly, that dizziness returns and has you gripping the edge of the table. 
Astarion is on his feet within a moment, noticing the change in you as soon as it happens. His hand has returned to your back, steadying you as the room starts to spin again. With your head a little clearer now, you recognize the feeling as similar to what you feel when Astarion drinks from you. With how strongly you’re feeling it… you don’t want to think about how much blood you must have lost.
“Rest. Please,” Astarion says in that soft voice again. And truly, who are you to deny him when he’s being so gentle? You let him coax you onto the table, onto the soft pile of fabrics you hadn’t realized had been under your head until just now. You want to stay conscious, to talk to Astarion more, but as soon as you’ve settled back down, you realize just how tired you are.
When you stir hours later, you’re tucked into your bedroll within your tent. And Astarion is sitting not far from you, reading. You don’t say anything as sleep overtakes you again, but you’re pretty certain you could get used to waking up to the sight of Astarion.
And Astarion’s pretty certain he wouldn’t mind it either.
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Activation Energy and Executive Dysfunction
A bunch of people (with executive dysfunction I assume) reacted a little disheartened to how I described the phenomenon.
The gist is that I used activation energy, a concept from chemistry, as a model for how executive dysfunction can keep you from doing things. Activation energy is the minimal energy that has to be available for any chemical reaction to occur and that amount is specific to every reaction.
Executive Dysfunction to me means, that this activation energy is always high, even for tasks other people experience as spontaneous reaction (yes the amount of ae and spontaneity of a reaction are not connected necessarily but bear with me here). A good example is showering or feeding yourself or sometimes getting up from the couch.
The tricky thing here is that the energy put into trying to reach activation energy is still *expended*, so while it might seem like nothing happens, you still get drained, making it harder to reach activation energy levels.
So what can we do?
In synthesis, if your activation energy is too high you basically can do two things: you either add a catalyst, or you find a different way to get to your result altogether.
The latter can be choosing a simpler recipe to feed yourself, graze on random items without making a meal until you are full or ordering food for example.
This is not always possible, but it *is* worth thinking about. An example from my life would be that I open my mail outside at the trash bins and immediately discard what I don't need because otherwise, I have paperstuff flying around my appartment that I don't get rid of.
"Weird" is not something that should factor in here. Make it functional and helpful.
The catalyst is my favourite solution however, and I can give you some tips here that you can *immediately* use. I won't know if they work for you, but they do for me (sometimes! be kind to yourself).
CATALYSTS AGAINST EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION
Have your tasks broken down: when you have energy, make sure that the thing on your to do list is something you can *actually* physically immediately do. Don't write "make reservation", but "call restaurant" along with the number. Not "clean kitchen" but "move dishes to sink" etc
Doorway Effect: The Doorway effect describes that silly thing that, when we cross a boundary, we sometimes feel like we've been soft reset ("what was I going to do?"). A hypothesis for why this happens can be that it helps our brain create separate contexts which then aids memory creation. What it can do for you is that it is an easy way to change context, which then frees you up to start something new more easily. Try it! Physically go through a doorway or open a different window on the computer, sometimes that is enough.
Costuming: Similar to the Doorway Effect, we are changing context in a low effort way here. Concentrate on putting on your shoes instead of taking out the trash or put on some rubber gloves if you plan on cleaning. Might be enough. Sometimes putting on mascara is enough for me to go "oh I am out of couch potato mode now"
Move! Put yourself where you need to be to tackle your task. That can already help.
Pressure: This can be done by setting a timer that will go off soon. Challenge yourself to get up and go before it rings - might stress you into inaction sometimes, but it can be helpful. I love visual timers for this as it helps with my time blindness
Prepare! If you are in a state of flow and have energy to spare *use it*. This includes breaking down your task as already described but also preparing your space - this can be a cleaned up desk or a caddy with cleaning supplies in a prominent spot.
And my absolute favorite: Throw a dice. When it is really bad, one thing I can always do is throw a dice (via an app, typing "d20" into the search bar or physically having one on me - which I usually do now). I tell myself that if I "make the roll" I get up and do it and if I don't, I try again in 20 minutes. This changes context easily, removes responsibility from me and makes the whole thing playful. I usually go with a d20 and tell myself to get going with a result over 10. If I have a particularly bad day I might need 15+ to do something. Just try it.
In short, what we are trying to do is
minimize friction by frontloading as much thinking and preparing as we can
make a context change as easy and small as possible
And remember: the goal is never to Always Be Doing Something.
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megistusdiary · 2 months
Note
Ok but transfem Arle with a breeding kink tho
-🎭
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i've been waiting for this one. i have been having arle brainrot for like 2 days because of this. just waiting for the right moment to write/post this.
it is time. 🤭 feast your eyes upon the culmination of my kinks all in one place.
this turned out so long 😞 i hope i didn't make arle ooc 🫠
(also, i just learned you can save drafts of ask answers. was that new? or am i really just that clueless)
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transfem!arle + breeding ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
dom transfem!arlecchino x sub!fem reader
warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, transfem!arle, face riding, penetration, breeding kink, size kink, arle is a little rough/possessive
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rough. that was the easiest word to use should anybody even dare to ask what it was like to bed your lover.
no matter how much restraint she showed, her sharp nails would still dig into your hips, leaving marks and scratches you could feel, even when you couldn't see them.
the way her hips would pound into yours would leave you feeling sore and achy the next morning.
her teeth would leave sharp indents and hickies strewn across your neck like a line of string lights.
yes, rough was quite the accurate way to describe your love life with her. yet there was love behind all of that. all of those bite marks, scratches, and bruises lay how much she cherished you. how she couldn't bear to even fathom life without you.
so, you must forgive her for what may seem like careless rough play. though, she does adore when you tell her how much you love it. when you ask her to be rougher.
however, nothing could top the feeling she got when you insisted on her breeding you. the way the words fell so easily from your lips had her promptly stiffening in her expensive office chair while you stayed perched upon her lap.
"what's gotten into you today?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed as her sharp nails dig into your hips through your clothes.
despite her tone bordering on harsh, you could feel the way she hardened beneath you. your teeth sunk into your cheek to prevent your smile bubbling up as you cleared your throat, leaning closer.
"don't pretend like you don't think about it all the time." you decided to tease her, hoping she would forego work in favor of taking care of you instead. "please?" you add, in a whiny little tone that has her exhaling sharply.
you yelp when she picks you up abruptly, your legs wrapping around her waist as she stands from her desk, shoving her chair out of the way.
"you're sure? don't go asking for things you can't manage." she reminds you and you scoff.
"i can take it."
and, with that, she carries you out of her office, everyone scrambling off and out of view before she could even lay eyes on them.
the minute you got to her bedroom, the door was kicked shut and locked, your back pressed against the wood as her lips stole your breath.
she let out a grunt when your tongue swiped over her lips, and she pulled away, moving one hand to grip your jaw. she pushed your cheeks together, opening your lips and sliding her tongue over yours.
oh, and the pitiful whimper you let out was just so sweet. she just couldn't help herself. the hand wrapped underneath you squeezed your skin through your clothes, holding you firmly against her as she slowly moved you both towards her large bed.
you were familiar with her bed. the softness of the silk sheets, blankets that felt like heaven, pillows full of fluff to keep you traversing your sweet dreams.
she dropped you onto your back on the bed, hearing your little huff of air when you hit the mattress. she looks down at you, shrugging off her outer coat to reveal that sleeveless turtleneck she knows you like. the way her jacket obscured her muscles from view was simply unacceptable, and this was most certainly your favorite way to see her.
she leaned back over you, this time letting her hands slide down your front, to the hem of your shirt. she wasted no time in yanking it up, revealing your stomach and bra, urging you to slide it all the way off.
the second she got it off your hands, she flung it across the room, looking down to admire you.
"you're so pretty." she praised in the sultry voice she knew made you shiver. a clawed nail trailed down your stomach, admiring the size difference between her hand and your body.
"don't tease me-" you protest softly, looking up with your best puppy-dog eyes. and who was she to not oblige your sweet little requests?
she swiftly removed your pants, leaving you in your undergarments before she was quick to remove those, too. she tore your panties clean off of you, ignoring your little surprised gasps and mumbles, tossing the torn fabric aside.
you half expected her to start stripping, but instead, she laid down next to you, pulling your nude form onto her lap.
the confused tilt of your head had the corner of her lips quirking up. she gripped your hips firmly, pulling you up towards her lips slowly as your eyes went wide.
"arle-" your voice was soft, nearly a whisper. you felt her lips touch your thigh gently, a silent reassurance as she hovered you over her mouth.
the first touch of her lips to your clit sent a jolt through your body, hips twitching in response as she let out a soft hum. she lapped at your clit, moving your hips for you to let you feel the wetness across your entire pussy.
every little movement had you letting out whimpers and involuntary noises, albeit muffled from your palm, head tilted back. "fuck, arle- that feels good-" you panted, other hand finding her hair to gently card your fingers through.
your palm pressed against her scalp, letting her feel the heat of your skin. she slowly let go of her grip on your hips, letting you ride her tongue at your leisure, listening for the slowly rising crescendo of your moans as you approached your orgasm.
blood rushed through your ears, tuning out her soft mumbles of what you assumed, or hoped, was praise.
she pulled away for a moment, tapping your thigh as you looked down at her, leaning back to sit on her chest instead.
"grip the headboard, and try to keep yourself upright. can you do that for me, doll?" she asked in a voice you knew you couldn't refuse, rapidly nodding as she kissed your thigh sweetly.
you moved back, hovering on shaky thighs while she sucked your clit. you heard the sound of her belt clinking behind you, head turning to see her unbuckling her belt, sliding the fabric just enough to free her cock.
it was pretty, long and thick, with similar markings to her arms.
before you could admire her any further, she lightly patted your ass, pushing you onto her tongue teasingly.
your head fell forward, listening to the sounds of one of her hands pleasuring herself. you could feel rather than hear the soft vibrations of her grunts against your cunt. your hips ground into her tongue, chasing your high as she looked up at you, stroking herself while she waited for you to cum for her.
the second you did, moved both hands to hold you up while grinding you into her tongue, drawing out your orgasm while maintaining the integrity of your lover's neck.
once you feebly grasped her hair, gently tugging and mumbling about being too sensitive, she finally pulled you away, sliding you over to rest on her lap. you could feel her cock pressed against your back, leaking onto you as you had into her mouth and now on her stomach.
the remnants of your glossy release stained her black turtleneck, causing her to click her tongue in annoyance, pulling the fabric off to reveal her toned stomach and plush chest.
she removed the rest of her clothes, making you finally feel more at ease to see her just as exposed. you moved to kneel above her stomach, hands pressed to her abs as you sat back down, her cock now in front of you.
you slowly inched down, about to kiss the tip before she stopped you. "not today." she shook her head, opting to use oil to slick herself instead, coating her cock in a light sheen, grunting with each movement of her hand before she pulled you to hover over the tip.
shaky breaths came from both of you as she slowly slid you down her cock. she gave you time to adjust with each inch, filling you up completely until your pelvis finally sat flush against hers.
your head fell forward, hands pressed to her toned biceps. she looked up at you, waiting patiently for you to tell her when you were ready.
of course, as soon as you had somewhat adjusted, her hips shoved upwards roughly into yours. the force had you bouncing on her lap, only stabilized by her iron grip on your body, surely leaving handprint-shaped bruises on your skin.
each noise from your lips was sinful, feeling completely stretched out and full from her. she looked up at you as if you were her world, focused on each tiny change in your expression. carefully monitoring your pain and pleasure, altering the angle of her hips in just the right way to have you trembling in her lap.
"you're so tight, doll. i need you to relax for me." she huffed in between clenches of her jaw. she shoved herself further into you, feeling you tighten around her and she groaned, eyes fluttering shut.
she found herself more endeared with how you seemed to praise her, mumbling how full she made you feel, how much you loved her, how much you wanted her to fill her up... it all had her ego inflating like a balloon ready to burst.
her thumb slid down, teasing your clit with tight circles that had your back arching.
"no- don't wanna cum without you-" you weakly protested, and she scoffed, rubbing faster.
once you finally started shaking again, body stilling except for your shivering, she eased up. you felt so tight around her, she couldn't resist, now fucking you with such fervor it had you collapsing onto her chest, panting into her shoulder.
"good, doll. such a good girl for me." she groaned, focused on fucking you deeper. "i'm close, are you sure you want-"
"archons, yes! i told you to breed me!" you cut her off, sucking a dark bruise into her neck, and she shivers.
once again, who is she to deny your wishes?
"if you want it so bad, then you'll fucking take it. you're mine to fuck, mine to fill, mine to hold. you're mine." she hisses into your ear, kissing your temple with such gentleness that it leaves you reeling.
her hips press deeper into you, pushing her cock further in as she finally cums, curses tumbling from her lips. you feel the warmth of her release spread inside of you, indulging in her grunts and soft breaths, cuddling against her as her bare chest presses into yours.
her hands slowly smooth up and down your back, keeping her cock inside of you to keep you plugged up. she relaxes beneath you, letting you stay on top of her as she caresses you gently, feeling you ease into a calming sleep, enjoying the warmth of her around and inside of you.
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mimimui · 10 months
Note
hellooo i saw your 'genshin men asking for a kiss' and i loved it sm your writing is amazing <333
can i request relationship headcanons for the genshin men. specifically alhaitham but idm who else you add
stay cool and have a good day/night :)
genshin boys as your boyfriend
includes: alhaitham, scaramouche, kazuha, diluc, kaeya, childe, xiao
tags: established relationship, endearments, fluff, not proofread, non-mortal/adeptus reader in xiao's
a/n: thank you so much ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡ aaaah i am back after being mia..! the writers block is beating me up so hard rn + its 3am :') i wrote each part in different time frames so the writing might seem inconsistent aghuahgu i hope its still ok :( anyways, as always .. enjoy !
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ALHAITHAM
he asked you to be his s/o while you were playing tcg together. you were in the middle of your turn when he asked you, and it'd be an understatement to say you were shocked.
(y/n): i'll use this support ca- alhaitham: will you be my s/o? (y/n): what? (shocked) alhaitham: what? (questioning)
while alhaitham is a bit aloof, he does loves teasing you. he would hide your things and help you look for the lost item like he doesn't know where it is.
when you're eating outside, he would step on your feet under the table. you can confront him about it all you want, but he will keep acting innocent.
if he's standing behind you, be wary because he might just throw his coat over your head as a joke, and then act like he did nothing.
alhaitham: do you want help putting on my coat? (y/n): seriously, haitham? alhaitham: yes? i'm seriously asking if you want my help.
when it comes to cooking, he'd leave you to do it. alhaitham would rather look forward to a meal you cook rather than a meal he helped make.
dinners are usually quiet, but if you want to tell him about the person that skipped in front of you in line today, then he's all ears.
the first time he told you he loved you, you were giving him a gift. you were smiling so brightly when giving it to him that he didn't know whether to be thankful for the gift or for you.
or at least you think that was the first time he said he loved you.
it was actually when you were asleep the first time you slept over. a very meaningful "i love you" was whispered softly in your ear.
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SCARAMOUCHE
he brought you somewhere with a nice view. he grabbed your hand without warning, and when you asked him where he was taking you, he said, "no need to be nervous, just want you to see something."
(y/n): thank you for bringing me here, scara. scaramouche: you're my s/o, there is no need to thank me. (y/n): i'm your s/o...? scaramouche: are you not informed about that or what?
it turns out that scaramouche planned to ask you a long time ago, and from the amount of times he's rehearsed in his head, his mind convinced him that he already asked you.
you laughed at him when you witnessed the moment he realized he forgot to actually ask you. he huffed at your reaction.
he acts annoyed whenever you ask to try on his hat, but his actions contradict his words as he places it on your head.
scaramouche: there are a lot of places where you can get hats, i don't even know (places hat on your head) why you want mine. (y/n): :D scaramouche: if it falls, i'll laugh at you. (y/n): >:(
scaramouche would make you food if you ask him to. he's glad to do it, but he wouldn't want you to thank him. he thinks thanking him for things he's happy to do is a waste of effort.
it's somewhat his unspoken rule to never leave you alone at the table. even if he doesn't join you for the meal, he'd sit down just to accompany you while you eat.
he denied it when you heard him tell you he loved you. the three words escaped his lips when you were busy picking fruits together. or, rather, you were the one picking fruits while he holds them.
you asked him to repeat what he said, but he was quick to reply with "it'd be a waste of effort to repeat what i said."
but he knows. and you know. you both know he loves you.
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KAZUHA
while he was out on sea, he wrote you a letter asking you to be his. along with all the other letters he wrote you, he made sure this was was sent out especially.
(y/n): welcome back, kazuha! about your letter... kazuha: yes, what about it? (y/n): my answer is yes. kazuha: i'm glad. thank you, (y/n).
he loves taking you out on adventures. even when he doesn't have a certain goal in mind for the day, kazuha will always find an excuse to bring you along with him.
you will always find him surrounding himself in nature. thanks to his extraordinary sense of hearing, he enjoys being outside even more. the world has a lot to offer.
one day, you ask him what his favorite sound of nature is. immediately, without fail, his reply is 'your voice', which you're flustered by.
(y/n): that doesn't even make any sense... i asked about your favorite sound of nature. kazuha: the world is full of nature, correct? (y/n): your point being? kazuha: you're my favorite sound of nature because you are my world, (y/n).
you both take turns cooking, always excited to try each other's new recipes. it's become sort of a competition of who can suprise the other one more.
his reaction is the cutest when you compliment his dish. if you're happily chewing the food he fed you, watch out because his hands will pinch your cheeks.
you two were hanging out one night, and you asked him to create a poem for you on the spot. he liked the idea, and immediately got to it.
without any hesitation, without thinking twice about it, he ended his poem with a very sweet "i love you."
when you stayed silent afterwards, kazuha got nervous. but his nervous expression soon washed away when you wrapped your arms around him, complimenting his impromptu-poem-writing abilities.
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DILUC
he was closing up the tavern for the day, and you two were the only one there after work hours. he decided to take his chances and ask you right then and there.
diluc: can you pass me the wash cloth? (y/n): sure! diluc: can you fix the chairs? (y/n): sure! diluc: can you be mine? (y/n): sur- wait.
he's never said it outloud, but diluc actually enjoys having senseless conversations with you. just last night you told him he reminded you of an owl, which he found amusing, and he asked you to explain why.
whenever diluc takes shifts at the tavern, you'd be somewhere around helping clean tables or wash dishes. he has enough staff at angel's share, but he appreciates your assistance nonetheless.
if you know how to play chess, he would regularly ask you to play against him. he thinks it's a great game to play while also being able to converse with others. he loves talking to you.
(y/n): the main character realized—check—his feelings too late, and lost the love of his life to someone else. it's sad. diluc: what happened—oh, good move—to the main character after that? (y/n): he was never able to express his true feelings to her. he should've taken the chance. diluc: hm.. i agree. he was too coward when he had the opportunity. and checkmate, by the way. (y/n): wh- hey! i didn't see that move! diluc: better luck next time, my dear.
when you offer to cook dinner for him instead of the maids, diluc doesn't try to hide his smile. you've prohibited him from entering the kitchen, wanting to cook something for him all by yourself.
he will always stand by the archway and watch you cook. you go over to him occasionally, asking him to taste some parts of the meal you're making. these are some of his favorite moments with you.
it was when you were eating dinner that he first told you he loved you. you had just finished cooking a meal, and you were sharing details from your day with each other while eating.
halfway through the meal, he says, "i've been wanting to tell you something all day. may i?"
as you nod your head, he tells you he loves you. or, rather, he tells you he's in love with you. but what's the difference? diluc is all yours.
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KAEYA
you brought klee back to the knights of favonius' headquarters after playing with her outside all day. albedo and jean thanked you, but kaeya wanted to express more than just gratitude.
kaeya: klee always returns happy whenever you're the one bringing her back. (y/n): she's precious. i'd do anything to keep her smiling. kaeya: likewise. but i also want to keep you smiling, sweetheart. (y/n): what do you mean? kaeya: be mine, (y/n), and i promise i'll always make you happy.
you, klee, and kaeya are always seen running around mondstadt. not only in the city, but also around the mountains. you'd all go find a big, empty space for klee to blow up.
rest assured he will always invite you for a drink, even if it's the morning. you've rejected about 90% of his offers, but he will always, always, make sure to invite you.
he is one call away when it comes to you. you have something urgent and needs his help? he's on it. you simply just miss him? he misses you too, he's on his way to see you.
(y/n): kaeya, aren't you supposed to be working right now? what would acting grandmaster jean say? kaeya: i missed you. that should be enough reason. (y/n): kaeya. kaeya: what? just wanted to see your face, sweetheart. i- ow! okay, okay, i'll go back now!
kaeya really enjoys when you cook for him. of course, he'll step in to help you, but the thought of you making him his favorite food is so heartwarming.
he insists on feeding you, even embarrassing you sometimes by pretending the spoon is a crystalfly and your mouth the cave it's about to fly into.
he first told you he loved you immediately after you agreed to be his. after you said 'yes' to his confession, he was quick to tell you those three words, and your heart fluttered at his boldness.
he will never forget to tell you he loves you. when he greets you good morning, when you drop by to pick up klee, when you come back to drop off klee, and so many more instances.
there was never a moment you doubted his love for you. he constantly reminds you of it, and kaeya will never let you forget it. he loves you. so much.
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CHILDE
he had it all planned out when he asked you to be his s/o. he made restaurant reservations at your favorite place, and even made sure it was on a day where not much people visited.
childe: (y/n), will you be mine? (y/n): are you serious? yes! childe: you are the only one i've ever been serious about. (y/n): you're so corny.
whenever he gets back from missions, he always makes sure to bring you back a little gift or a souvernir. one time, he brought you back a ruin hunter eye because "you're the light of my life" he says. it didn't make any sense.
the first time he brought you to snezhnaya, he wrapped you in so many layers that you were better off rolling on the ground than walking.
he absolutely loves it when you play with his siblings. when he comes home tired, he'll immediately be energized if he sees you and his siblings spending time together.
(y/n): ajax, join us! we could use another person to play tag. childe: do i get a kiss if i win? (y/n): ...i was just kidding, you don't have to play with us anymore. childe: hey! okay, okay, i'll join. no kiss needed, i swear!
cooking is one of his favorite activities to do with you. doing something so loving and domestic as cooking with someone he loves is heartwarming.
no matter how much you try to keep yourself clean, childe will find a way to get you messy. he says you can't blame him if you can never catch him wiping his hands on your shirt.
he wasn't the first one to tell you he loved you. his siblings did it for him, actually. well, who was going to stop them? childe was asleep, and you weren't.
he brought you all on a camping trip outside snezhnaya, and he promptly passed out first after story-telling time. as you were cleaning up the campfire, his siblings all walked over to you.
"(y/n), our big brother loves you very much."
it was very random, but very sweet. you smiled at them as you gave them a hug each, asking them why they were suddenly telling you this.
"if you leave him, you leave us, and we don't want you to leave. he loves you a lot, we swear!"
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XIAO
being uninterested in relationships, neither of you ever asked each other. but you've been together for as long as you could remember, and your memory goes back for centuries.
(centuries ago) (y/n): xiao, can you promise not to leave me by myself? xiao: that's a hard promise to keep. (y/n): but you'll try? xiao: ...yes.
xiao has never been the type to express much of what he was feeling—if he felt anything at all. unlike you, he has never bothered to fully understand mortals.
you thrive around the people of liyue harbor, and xiao will always find you casually strolling around or stopping to pet a cat you found on the sidewalk.
when xiao rests at wangshu inn, you find yourself accompanying him, staying with him on the highest balcony. this is the only time you accompany him though, as he has his duties to eliminate evil.
(y/n): need any help? xiao: you always ask, and i always say no. (y/n): well, you might need me one day. xiao: we've been together for centuries. you know i'm capable enough. (y/n): i know. you always have been. xiao: rest easy, (y/n). i'll be here. (y/n): good night, xiao.
food has never really been a problem for either of you, but if you want to treat yourself to a mortal meal, xiao will come along with you. with enough convincing, of course.
you eat at wangshu inn, and chef yanxiao prepares your meals. eating with xiao is quiet, but if you were to start a conversation, he will always reply.
he's never told you that he loves you, at least not directly. his actions will speak for him—one of them being always ridding the path you're taking of monsters.
whenever xiao has to leave you at the inn, he will never fail to tell you to "rest easy" before he leaves. he has sworn to himself to protect you, and eliminate all evil that might affect you.
his duty is to protect liyue, but it wouldn't hurt to make you his duty as well, right?
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thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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wolfiesmoon · 3 months
Note
Hey I hope you are doing well when ever you are reading this but how do you think the 3rd year boys from twst would react to their s/o (gn reader) cuddling with a huge plush instead of them.
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Like this.
Oh boy oh boy this kinda cures my writers block tbh, i have so many drafts but none of em look enticing enough to continue writing (´д`|||)
I took out a few of the 3rd years bc its too many people for 1 fic but i might make a part 2 where i add the missing 3rd years at some point
i went with the more silly writing style again, hope that's fine by you ○( ^皿^)っ
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𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Malleus Draconia
He doesn't exactly get why, but he feels kinda annoyed just laying next to you while you hug a big ol plushie
This doesn't feel right🫤
But then again, you look rlly happy and satisfied so he stays quiet since if you're happy, he's happy (he desperately wants to be in the plushy's place)
When you playfully kiss the plush though, that rule no longer applies. After all, his rightful spot is in your arms🫠
He nudges you. "Put the stuffed animal away."
"You sound angry." You smirk and kiss the plush again, knowing he's probably annoyed about that
without another word, he pulls the plushy out of your hands and settles down in its place
"I am a much better than that object. Just so you know." he smiled smugly, expecting a kiss on the cheek just like you gave to the plushie earlier
you kissed him on the lips instead just to see his eyes widen and his face go red ofc 😏
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Leona Kingscholar
basically, it is NOT happening
"hell no." is the only thing he says before ripping the poor plushie out of your arms and chucking it across the room
like actually how DARE you try to replace him with a plushie
"Why would you do that?" You pouted at him, looking at the now discarded plushy from the bed🤕
"You know damn well why." He huffed, laying down on top of you without warning which tends to be a habit of his
"Because that's my spot, got it?" He answered for you. clearly you forgot😒
"Uhhh, right." you answered after a short pause...
"I won't remind you next time." he sounded rlly annoyed. it's kinda funny how worked up he got over a plushy replacing him 🤭
this also means he won't let you get up for like.... atleast 2 hours to atone for your sins
moral of the story: don't do this again unless you want a ripped up plushie and a pissed off lion man😠
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Idia Shroud
"This is so unfair. Even worse than an OP boss. " he sighed dramatically, laying down besides you and pouting at the sight og a huge plushie in your arms
"pick up the sock if you have enough energy to complain." you turned away from him, still annoyed with him
being the epic gamer he is (😎💯), he discarded one of his socks in the middle of his room and didn't feel like picking it up later even after you told him to
...which ended with you refusing to cuddle with him until he does pick up the sock
after a short while of very awkward silence...
he groaned in annoyance, begrudgingly getting up and finally picking up the sock, then leaving the room to put it in the wash
you smirked victoriously, placing the plushie away as promised and letting him hug you instead
"The things you make me do, smh." he sighed, relaxing into you 😒
"Picking up a singular sock?" you teased him, hugging him back
He didn't reply so that means it's your victory 😝
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Vil Schoenheit
this is an unforgivable offense, just because you had a little disagreement earlier doesn't mean you can just replace him with a plushie😠
love transcends disagreements, after all
does not help at all that the plushie's cute round face reminds him of a certain thorn in his side named Neige LeBlanche😒
he sighs, "I may have been too harsh back there."
your only reply is an annoyed huff and you hug the plushie tighter which makes one of those anime veins pop up on his face 💢
he takes a deep breath "It was not my intention to hurt your... sensibilities." he's trying babe, he's really trying
You don't reply for a moment...
"Ugh." you throw the plushie away and hug him tightly "This doesn't mean I forgive you, just for the record."
"I still stand by my opinion too, just worded less harshly." he gently puts an arm around you, stroking your back
it was only a matter of time until you gave up with your stubborn pettiness, soon you'll forgive him too, he'll make sure of that 😌
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Lilia Vanrouge
He's actually surprisingly chill about it i feel like
He wouldn't get annoyed or be jealous per se, he'd just get a little sad it's not him you're hugging😔
he's there, you know? there's no need for a plushie...
"Am I not satisfactory enough?" He asks half playfully half seriously
"In what sense?" you totally knew what he meant but just wanted to tease him back
"Hey, isn't this supposed to be the other way around?" he smiled at you, immediately knowing what you were playing at
"Hahaha, you know me too well." you kiss his cheek, yet you still don't let go of the plushie which makes him pout
"I see you have found yourself a new lover." his eyes travel to the plushie for a moment, the betrayal is real😔🙏🏻
"You got a problem with him?" you raised a brow 🤨
"A little." he hugged you from the back, getting comfy
"Okay fine, maybe my ex is the better one after all." you let go of the plushie and turned around to hug him back 💗
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fcthots · 4 months
Note
Happy New Year!! I wish you the best of luck and prosperity in the New Year!
Have you thought about teasing Jason? Maybe making him read one of his favorite books out loud as you tease him til he can’t remember the words?
happy new year!!
Anon, you genius. I am a Jason loves teasing you truther, but I hadn't even considered the possibilities of you teasing Jason. And now that I am, he would not be able to take it for long. He would get so whiny and xhibedcd i have so many ideas for this, it's hard to pick one.
I'll proofread this later. <3.
It's not that Jason doesn't pay you enough attention, you take up 75% of his thoughts, but when Jason starts reading, it takes up all of his focus. It's damn near impossible to get his attention. Good thing you love a challenge.
When you walk into the living room, he's seated comfortably on the couch. A well worn book rests in his hands. He is so engrossed in it that he doesn't seem to notice your presence. You'll have to fix that.
"What are you reading?" He doesn't quite jump, but his eyes shoot up. There's something to be said about how he's so comfortable around you that his guards is completely let down. That does something to your insides.
"Just some poetry." It's such a vague answer that it piques your interest.
"What kind?" You step closer to him. His eyes track you.
"Some love letters. It's Letters to Milena by Franz Kafka." He'd spoken of the book before you think.
"Thinking about me while you read?" You climb onto the couch and straddle him. One of his hands moves to your waist on instinct.
His face dusts with a light blush. He doesn't respond, seemingly at a loss for words. You wrap your arms around his neck. He stutters for a moment, but never quite makes a full word. You smile. He's getting so riled up and you've barely done anything.
"Read it to me." His brows furrow and he fumbles with the pages. You dip your face into the crook of his neck and softly bite down. His breathing grows deeper and faster.
He stutters at first, struggling to find his place in the book. Eventually he finds it. "Yesterday, I advised you not to write me every day," You feel him grow hard beneath you, "I still hold the same opinion today and-"
You grind down onto him. His head tilts back, moving your face away from his neck, as he makes a sound between a whine and a moan. You lift your hips away from his and he opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first. "Keep going."
He nods obediently. His movements are shaky, pent up and nervous. "it would be very good for both of us," You drop your hips back onto his and he gasps, but doesn't stop, "and so I repeat my advice today even more-..." His voice trails off as your hand drops from his shoulder to down into your pants. He watches you with something akin to reverence as you slip the pants and underwear off together (with some difficulty). You drop them to the floor. Jason shudders beneath you. "Wait." His voice is whiny as he pants beneath you. "Please," one of his hands moves to the hem of your shirt and tugs, "take this off. Need to see you, please."
You start tugging it over your head. "Only if you keep reading." He nods vigorously and you unclasp your bra.
"Emphatically- only please," his voice hitches when display your tits in his face, you bring one hand to your chest and roll a nipple between your fingers, making a show of throwing your head back and pushing your chest towards his face with a breathy moan. "Milena," you grind against him and he stutters for a moment. You move the other hand back between your legs and begin to work yourself open, starting with two fingers, in and out. He continues and his hooded eyes watch your every move. He doesn't need to look at the book to know the words. "Don't listen to me, and write me every day anyway," you add another finger to your rhythmic motions that brush against his length, "it can even be very brief," you add in your pinky finger and Jason makes a pathetic little whiny sound that is music to your ears.
You undo the drawstring of his sweatpants and push them further down his thighs. Putting his book down, he shimmies his hips to help you get the pants down, as impatient as ever. As soon as he cock springs free, you urge him, "Keep going."
He watches, trying his best to keep talking, as you lift your hips and bring his tip to your folds. Your other hand staying occupied on your chest. His hands anchor themselves on your waist, "briefer than today's letters," he moans out as you begin to slightly push yourself down. He soldiers on, "just 2 lines," you slide down even more. You do your best to keep your own moans under control, you want to be able to watch him. You've worked yourself enough so he slides in easily, the stretch not painful. He feels good.
He can't form words while you take your time bottoming out on his cock. Once, you've sat your full weight on him, he can't tear his eyes away from where your bodies join. One of his hands slides down until his thumb reaches your clit. He's distracted, entranced, by you. You struggle to keep your composure. "Keep reading."
His eyes stay focused on his thumb as it circles your clit. "Just one," you move your hips up and snap them down. Pleasure blooms in your chest and you hear Jason curse and breathe faster. "Just one word," you find a rhythm moving up and down on his dick. His voice constantly wavers and he moans between words. "But if I had to go ah without them," the length between each word gets longer and longer as you move faster and faster and he gets closer and closer. He struggles to get even one word out.
"Finish it and I'll let you finish." You're getting close now too, his demeanor clearly having an effect on you. His thumb speeds up.
He nods, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "I would suffer terribly." He says the words fast, all in one breath as he begins to thrust up into you. You clench around him as he lets out a loud moan. You cum together as he spills out of you. His head tosses back and his thumb stills and he twitches through the last waves of his orgasm. You drop your head onto his shoulder and slouch against his chest. His arms curl around you and he kisses whatever skin he can reach. You legs burn and your knees ache, but you have nothing to be worried about. Jason will take care of you.
Also disclaimer! I have not read the book yet! I plan on getting it soon bc I've been wanting to read it for years, but have yet to read the full thing full so that's why it's undetailed.
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petit-etoile · 6 months
Note
Congrats on the 200 Followers man! Here's my drabble for ya, go nuts on what you wanna write from this; “Kiss me and/or shut up.”
your  heart understood  mine
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pairing: astarion/tav wordcount:  919 content warnings: ne.il new.bon said something about little astarions once & now i have Thoughts other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.
tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils, be added to the taglist here
summary: 'When am I happiest?' / 'When I'm looking at you.'
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‘So,’ Astarion says casually, staring at his nails. ‘What do you think the answers truly are?’
‘The answers to what?’ you ask.
‘Don’t play coy,’ he says. ‘The little…love test. I was rather pleased you didn’t expose me in front of a stranger, but now I’m curious.’
You remember Zethino now. You take a moment to glance at him, though your hands are still busy sewing away at a tear in your armor. Astarion is watching you while wearing a guarded half-smile, neither interested in his nails nor in your messy stitches. Your cheeks heat up and you look back down at your uneven handiwork. Your throat tightens a little.
When you had asked him if he had wanted to participate with you, you thought Astarion would reject it. It seemed silly, so out of element for the both of you that the thought of him genuinely agreeing never crossed your mind. Yet now he questions you about it, questions you about your answers, and you feel more nervous now than you had when Zethino called you stira. Astarion takes your armor from you and begins patching it himself, fed up with your clumsy stitches.
‘The heart is fraught, so let us begin with the joyous,’ Astarion recites sarcastically. ‘When is he happiest, my love?’
‘I don’t think you’ve ever been happy,’ you say quietly.
He hums. ‘Well, that’s mostly the correct answer,’ he says. ‘But you’re missing something. I know you can guess it if you really put your mind to it.’
‘You’re happiest with me,’ you say bravely.
You look him deep in his eyes, holding your breath. He laughs and nods, chuckling to himself while he tries to salvage a piece of leather. You think he might be blushing, but it’s hard to tell with how pale he is.
‘Many things delight the heart,’ Astarion continues, mimicking her monotonous timbre. ‘Only one makes it sing! Tell me, my sweet, what does he desire more than anything.’
Revenge. You had told the dryad he wanted revenge, but didn’t go into detail, not in front of someone unfamiliar. You watch as he untangles the thread, his hair soft and elegant, his hands assured and practiced. There lives a colony of butterflies in your chest. Your heart is beating so loud you’re certain he can hear it.
‘A life with me,’ you say.
‘You,’ he agrees.
‘A gaggle of little Astarions trailing around,’ you add.
Astarion looks up sharply, his mouth hanging open slightly. You press your lips together immediately and try to think of an apology but there’s something beneath his careful façade. You were right. You realize it now. You press a hand to your chest as if to stop your heart from pounding. Astarion wants a family, and he wants you, and even beneath that desire for revenge and for strength, once he succeeds then all he wants is you. He looks back down at your clothes in his lap and laughs shyly. You think you might faint.
‘The last, um, question,’ you stutter. You realize your palms are sweaty and blush.
‘Fear sits in the soul of all,’ Astarion says finally, voice soft. ‘To tame it, we must name it. What is his deepest fear?’
This time, you feel as though the answer isn’t so easy. Beneath the fear of Cazador and the fear of the mindflayers, there is something else brewing. You’re afraid to even mention it, but he’s curious and genuine. You slide closer to him and pull part of your armor into your lap so that you share the burden. He presses his nose to your temple and you distract yourself by touching the part of your armor he’s managed to save from your haphazard repairing.
‘You’re afraid of never breaking the cycle,’ you say carefully. You bite your bottom lip. ‘You’re worried that after all this rage, there’s no relief.’
‘Shut up,’ Astarion says.
There is little to no heat in it. You shake your head.
‘You’re afraid the you before Cazador is no longer there,’ you say. ‘And you’re afraid that because I am human, that there’s a ghost of you that comes after me.’
‘Shut up,’ Astarion insists.
‘Kiss me,’ you whisper. You turn to meet his lips.
Astarion presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You cherish it no matter how fleeting the kiss is. The silence, the quiet sorrow. It’s almost worth it for how he gently presses kisses against your temple and into your hair. He will never confess that what you said is true, and you’re almost thankful.
‘My turn,’ you say, clearing your throat. ‘When am I happiest?’
‘When I’m looking at you,’ Astarion says without hesitation.
‘O  — Oh.’
‘You desire a lifetime with me,’ he says with a practiced blasé shrug. ‘And little Astarions of course.’
You flush. ‘Shut up.’
‘And,’ he adds, ‘you’re deathly afraid of spiders.’
He laughs and kisses you again, and you wish you could bottle up the sound in a music box to play it back when you’re feeling lonely. You know what Zethino meant now when she said your bond beat with pleasure. You blossom beneath his careful musings.
‘See? We’re close as can be,’ Astarion murmurs. He rests his chin on your shoulder and brushes his thumb against your thigh. ‘But darling, if we’re going to have a lifetime together, we really must work on your stitching.’
‘Only if you’ll teach me,’ you say.
‘Oh, I’ll be the best teacher you’ve ever had,’ Astarion agrees.
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shanastoryteller · 4 months
Note
Happy Holidays Shana!! I really love your prompts about Greek mythology. Could you write a continuation of Hades or God's and Monsters?
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Zagreus is mid word when he stills, eyes going distant. "Huh. I'll be right back."
"You're joking," Megaera says flatly. "You can't just drop this on me and-"
"Technically, Than did that." He would really prefer if Zagreus didn't pull him into this. "I'll be quick. She's calling me, it can't be anything good."
"Who's she?" Megaera demands but Zagreus is already gone. She scowls and turns to the others. "Who's she?"
"Eliana, maybe," Sisyphus offers, completely unruffled at Megaera's ire. "At least take a look out the balcony. This is the highest point in the court and the view is really spectacular."
It is. Thanatos hadn't known the underworld could be beautiful before he'd seen what Zagreus had built.
Her eyes narrow. "How long has this been going on?"
"Oh, I can't say for sure," Sisyphus shrugs, his lips almost curling into a smile. "I wasn't really there for the beginning."
"I was."
They both turn to Patroclus. Eurydice is the only one of them that's suitably wary of either him or Megaera.
"He grew poms in my clearing first," he continues. "It's where we grew things until it became too full and then he created this. Zagreus has woven protections around it, to keep others from stumbling upon it accidentally, but I'm sure you could find it if you looked."
Megaera crosses her arms. "I'm not leaving."
Patroclus shrugs. Eurydice looks longingly towards the door and Sisyphus seems to actually be enjoying himself.
Thanatos stiffens, pain with no physical cause blooming from his chest. "He's died."
"Really?" Eurydice asks, taking a step closer. "He doesn't really do that anymore."
"Except for show," Sisyphus adds, frowning. "But you're both here."
Before Thanatos can decide how he feels about that, Zagreus is slipping back through the mirror, flicking off blood from his arms. "Sorry about that, Artemis wanted a favor."
Thanatos cannot have heard what he thinks he did.
"Artemis?" Megaera repeats dangerously.
"Oh, she told Aphrodite by the way," he adds casually, then pauses. "Actually, she was pretty surprised to see me, so I guess Artemis just called me and let her figure it out herself. Cold."
"Well, this is all unraveling," Patroclus says, but he doesn't seem that worried about it. Not nearly worried about it as Thanatos thinks he should be.
Zagreus shrugs. "They can keep a secret. Also it's been almost fifty years already, this can't go on forever. I suppose I could just challenge Demeter outright?"
"Do not do that," Eurydice says.
Thanatos wants to sit down.
"Have you LOST YOUR MIND?" Megaera screeches, grabbing Zagreus's shoulders. Her nails dig into him, but he doesn't bleed. "You can't do this! You can't - have you - this is crazy!"
Zagreus shrugs, pressing her nails deeper into him. "What's she going to do? Kill me?"
"There will be war," Thanatos says quietly while Megaera seems lost for words.
"Long overdue, if you as me," he says casually. "She's killing a lot of people, Than. She's undermining the other gods and making things worse for everyone all because she lost her daughter. She's turning against her own domain because her grief is more important than her duty. I can't make my mother talk to Demeter. But I have the power to stop her, to put an end to this winter. So I have to stop her."
"This isn't your responsibility, Zag," Thanatos says quietly.
"No," he agrees, expression souring. "It's my mother's. But if the goddess of spring won't do her duty and put an end to winter, then I will."
"Why?" Megaera asks, something small and scared in her that Thanatos hasn't seen since the first time she heard of Zagreus attempting to escape. "Why does it have to be you?
"I am a son of life's beginning and of life's ending." Zagreus says gently. "I know there is balance. I exist because of that balance. When I was born, I had too much of my father, and Nyx filled me with my mother's blood, because I can only exist when there is both." Thanatos hadn't known that, hadn't known how exactly his mother managed to save a stillborn Zagreus. "Who else, Meg?"
She doesn't have an answer.
There isn't one.
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belphies-cowgirl · 9 months
Text
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little things they do for you
word count: 900+
content warning: mentions of body image (if I am missing anything please let me know and I will add it!)
Lucifer
invites you into his study whenever he gets a new record. he prefers listening to it with you in his arms. also, he'll play the piano for you if you ask him.
will praise you for minor or major accomplishments. even if you don't think something deserves praise he gives it to you anyways. he's so proud of his human. 
wakes you up gently by rubbing your back or your shoulder. sometimes if you've stayed up late studying or working he peppers your face with gentle kisses (he will drag you out of bed lovingly if he needs to)
Mammon
will hype you up and be your partner in crime. will indulge in creating chaos or doing something stupid with you. you have his full support and he'd do anything for you, even if it results in him getting strung up by Lucifer. he'll happily take the blame and punishments for you. 
will let you have control over the radio and heat/ac settings in his car. will let you put your feet up on the dashboard too. he bought a car charger for you in case you forget to bring yours and he'll order for you in the drive-thru (has what you want memorized, but still asks if you want something else) 
helps you with chores. does laundry with you and carries your laundry basket (cleans out the lint trap for you too) does the dishes with you, he washes while you dry or vice versa. moves furniture for you while you vacuum (let him woo you by showing off his strength) want to rearrange your room at 3 am? he'll help you. 
Levi
if you're into cosplay he'll make outfits for you. he'll make sure it fits perfectly and has some wiggle room for comfort.
will let you sit on his lap and help you get through hard levels or help you find new areas and items. will guide your hand with his while doing so and praise you. 
if you're anxious about something he'll try anything to ease some of your anxiety. he'll give your hand reassuring squeezes or talk you through a breathing exercise or simply listen to you talk about what's making you anxious. he'll look up more ways to deal with anxiety and practice them with you. 
Satan
texts you quotes from books or poems that remind him of you or when he wants to be romantic. he sometimes takes inspiration from romance novels when planning a date. also surprises you with flowers for no reason. 
will help you study or write an essay. teaches you how to color code, organize, find proper resources, and reassures you that you're doing a good job. he'll be patient and adapt his techniques to any learning style you prefer. 
will spend hours with you in a bookstore, and carry any books you want to buy. if you like to spend a decent amount of time in certain genre aisles, he'll grab books you can't reach or just be content standing near you while you look through the books. 
Asmo
want an outfit that didn't come in your size or was sold out? he'll somehow get it for you or make one for you. need some alterations done? say less. see something you like but you're low on funds? say less. 
have any pain, discomfort, or trouble relaxing? he's got heating pads, pain relievers, an aroma diffuser, bath salts, anything you can think of for pain relief or relaxation. he also gives really good massages. 
will help you with any insecurities you may have. reassuring words, compliments, and sticky notes on any mirrors to remind you that you're beautiful and are worthy of so much more than you think you deserve. will buy you products that help enhance your natural beauty. he'll also help you take care of yourself with little reminders or help you establish and keep up with a daily routine.
Beel
lets you wear his clothes if you're having one of those days where you just want to hide your body or just want to feel super comfy and smell like him.
he reminds you to eat every day. he understands if it's hard sometimes for you to eat at least 3 meals a day or eat when you're not feeling well. will ask if you'd like some of his food or if he can make you anything. will also let you steal food off his plate. 
will support you and keep you motivated if you want to work out. he'll get on the treadmill next to you or go for a walk with you. anything you want to do he'll do it with you. shares his water bottle with you if yours is empty. will make smoothies, protein shakes, or trail mix with you. he'll encourage body positivity, but won't cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable. 
Belphie
gives you space and understands if you don't want to take a nap with him or cuddle. will offer to let you borrow one of his blankets or pillows to sleep with instead.
will comfort you if you have nightmares or trouble sleeping. don't feel secure after a nightmare? he'll hold you close or act like a weighted blanket for you. 
lets you kick him in your sleep and he'll adapt to any of your sleeping positions. want to sleep like a starfish with one leg up on the wall? that's fine, he'll make room for you and find a different way to cuddle.
✄ ——————————————————————
feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3
please do not use my work as your own! 
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