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devildomcrybaby · 4 months
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𝕴 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖙 𝖒𝖊. 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖔
▸Astarion x Reader
Remember when Astarion asked Gale how was his sad, hopeless pining was going? Here we'll see how his pining went. For this purpose you and Astarion get stuck in a cave. Such a cliche.
Minors do not interact. 18+ only Warnings: explicit, blood, some little spoilers, Astarion and reader are so down bad for each other but also kind of rough, pain, blood drinking, piv, mentions of religious themes/gods.
Cold and dark. Everything is cold and dark. Everything except for you. You’re feverish, sweating and shivering at the same time. The only sound you can hear is the rhythmic drip of single drops of water sliding down the stalagmites above your head. Astarion pretends to miss the gulp you try to stifle. The air is thick with humidity, but that’s not the reason you feel like it’s hard to breathe. You throw your head back slightly, resting it against the coarse surface behind you, sighing heavily, eyes purposelessly fixed on the first flare they encounter.
Proper pronunciation is the key to successful spellcasting. It is indeed. Fucking hell. You huff, cursing Gale under your breath. Have a wizard misspell a single Latin word and find yourself stuck in a grim, slimy hole, almost as narrow as a coffin and not even as comfortable. Yes, I’m aware a wooden surface is not comfortable at all, I’ll leave to your imagination how comfortable can a spiky craggy wall be. Let’s be honest, you’d be complaining half as much if you were stuck in that hole alone. Of course your pale vampire companion would get caught in the spell as well. There’d be barely any room for one person to stand in that tight space, let alone two. However, it’s not the lack of space or freedom of movement that bothers you the most, ironically.
Astarion has always made you feel somewhat uneasy, like you want to crawl away from him, crawl away from your own skin too. But you always got the chance to do so before. You could always avert your eyes when he stared at you too openly, always walk a little faster when you could feel the faint warmth of his body as he shuffled too close to you, always pretend you had something else to do, someone else to talk to when his words sounded too sharp, too violent, even. Maybe the only violent thing was the feeling burning in your stomach each time his fingers lingered on your skin a bit too long, each time his usually biting words sounded a bit too sweet.
You felt like a little child trying to get the stern teacher’s attention and miserably failing every single time. And you know he notices. Notices how you go against yourself giving attitude to a deep gnome you just saved from goblins when you wanted to ask him how he was instead, how sad your eyes are when you tell the tieflings you seek to help to get to digging their own graves just to humor him. But he also notices the smirk you fail to disguise when teasing Laezel, keeping her caged a little longer asking her to say ‘please’ before setting her free, even though you already decided you wanted her along, notices the look of satisfaction on your face when you thrust your blade in Fezzerk’s stomach after he shot an arrow in Karlach’s leg. Maybe you’re not so different from his sordid broken self, after all. And he notices how itchy and restless you are now despite being impossibly still, spreading your legs to put some distance between the two of you when your thigh meets his knee for a moment too long, pressing your back against the wall behind you when your chest grazes his. You’re too caught in your own feelings, trapped in the thoughts crowding your mind to pay attention to the man in front of you.
You have no clue, but Astarion too tries to distract himself. He uses a different strategy than yours though.
You are both nuisance and entertainment as you try to avoid him at all costs. So he does the opposite, challenging you in his mind, thinking he’d succeed in a task you’re fumbling egregiously. He fixes his gaze on every little detail his eyes can catch in the dim torch light leaking out the small openings in the slab. The little crease between your eyebrows when you frown and sigh in frustration. The way your hair waves when meeting your shoulders. His fingers twitch as he suppresses the impulse to move the locks away from your face to expose more of your neck and shoulders. The reddening tip of your nose. How the Wavemother's Robe reveals your clavicles and reflects the poor light allowing him to see this little of you. But then, then he notices the dark shade of red of your cheeks. How you purse your lips when you glower. If only he could he’d bite them and make you bleed. The curve of your hips and the shape of your breasts. Your bare thighs. Should have worn the Blazer of Benevolence damn you and damned be the dead Water Queen. Had he always failed to catch how your armor perfectly traces your body, letting him, letting anyone see you as if you were disrobed, until now?
“I’m getting bored”. You’re almost startled when the silence is broken. “Aren’t you?” he adds, his voice lowers asking the question, in that bewitching way you know he got to master through the centuries. The words are simple, trivial, yet you wonder if this is the voice Ulysses heard as he got inside Circe’s lair, maybe the voice that lured sailors to their deaths in the Mediterranean Sea. You falter, his words not quite registering in your brain. He slips a hand between your hair and your neck, then slides his thumb over your pulse point. He doesn’t get that much closer yet, just enough so that his chest brushes yours. Time slows to a crawl, you hear your heart thumping in your ears, your vision is blurred for a second. You blink twice and you see him. In the umbral tangerine light, his features look even more graceful. Or have you already forgotten what he looks like, in your steady effort of avoiding to even glance at him at all costs? Since when have you been stuck in that bleak hollow? Was it minutes? Hours? Had the sun set already? “And I thought my presence would be enough to occupy you” you attempt a joke, keeping your voice as firm and emotionless as you manage. “It is”. His tone is serious, he lowers his face towards yours and his breath hits your parted lips. It’s been for a while, he thinks. Astarion isn’t honest with others, not most of the time at least, but he’s honest with himself. He doesn’t care for sex. He never did, at least since he has memory of. Maybe he did once, at a time when he was just any other elf free to make his own nasty choices. He doesn’t really know, come to think of it. The shadows of his former self getting blurrier day after day, until the days became months, years, centuries. He didn’t care since it became merely any other act he had to perform, exactly like the soothing smile he perfected to persuade his targets to follow him back at the palace, neatly crafted to conceal his embellished lies. Even his mannerism was devised to convey the mask embroidered on his skin. He did feel the atavic impulse, of course he did. Albeit that’s where it ended, at a physical urge. No true desire guided his hand as he undid his breeches. He wasn’t really allowed to desire anything at all, even his body got accustomed to that by then. It’s entirely new to him, this yearning to get close to another individual, to seek the comfort of the warmth of another.
“Allow me”. Not even for a moment does he entertain the thought that you might find it inopportune how close he is all of a sudden when you never even dared to hold his hand before. He fundamentally doesn’t care right now. He just feels and it’s devastating. Adventure after adventure, a long forgotten, perhaps unknown, feeling sneaked inside his rotting heart. His hand slides up to your jaw as he brings his lips to yours. You don’t question it for a second, still dizzy, your lips move against his of their own accord. It’s slow, tentative, like he forgot how to do it. But he hasn’t. You just leave him a small opening, tongue meeting his slightly more emphatically and he’s devouring you. His fingers grab your hair at the root, his tongue demands that you surrender and follow. He pushes his body against yours, your back pressed against the cold scratchy wall. His knee demands access between your thighs until your crotch is right above it. You break the kiss gasping against his mouth when the cool chainmail is pressed to your core. Maybe he took it as an attempt to get away from him, maybe he just followed a deep-seated instinct to have you against him. He pulls your hair hard, his other hand on your thigh, his fingers dig painfully in the bare flesh. His mouth is quickly against yours once more. It’s harsh, raw, and desperate. He’s not playing a part, he’s not kissing you to get you on his side, to have someone protect him from the harsh judgement (and he’d be lucky if it was just ugly glares and a few wisecracks and not a stake through his heart as he sleeps) of those who now know he’s a creature of the night. He’s not bribing the oh so powerful leader with his swift fingers and perfectly refined technique. This isn’t for you, nor for a master waiting for him in a place he's forced to call home, nor for a prying audience he has to entertain. This is for him. He doesn’t know why he needs it, needs your yielding body pressed to his. He only knows he does. He kisses you again and again. He doesn’t get bold, doesn’t need to. Kissing you, having you pressed against him in a cramped space where no one can interrupt the two of you, where no ally or foe can take you away from his merciless grasp, is enough.
But that’s when it hits him that Karlach and Laezel are still out there in the sewers trying to find a crack in the stones they can exploit, to crash them all and set you free. And Sorcerous Sundries where Gale is trying to find a way to undo his disastrous spell is only a few miles away. It’s not true that he has all the time in the world, that he has you at all. Such a ludicrous thought that no one could take you from him if even for this moment.
He gives you one last heated kiss before pulling away, his hands holding your face. As he sees your swollen lips and heated cheeks, he feels the need to kiss you until it hurts. He’s searching for something in your eyes, and you really hope he finds it. You’d show him, if only you knew what that was. Please, you think. And then he sees it. Or maybe it’s all a figment of his imagination bending reality to his own desires.
“I spent two hundred years using my body for the pleasure of others. It never belonged to me, you know”. He says it so simply, as if he was telling you it was windy today. “It was only one of the many means to achieve my master’s ends. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered. I didn’t have wants for so long I forgot I could have any at all. Each and all of my needs…disregarded, every time”. He sounds so exasperated when uttering the last two words, dry voice, and bitter stare. For a moment he's not really looking at you, his eyes hollow, torrid shadows unknown to you riveting him. Then his look clears, and he sees you again. “But now, now I’m allowed to want again. And I can take what I need”.
You get a pit in your stomach hearing his words, a pull you don’t quite know how to name makes you want to hold him, thread your fingers through his hair, kiss his cheek and tell him that it’s never going to be like that again, that you won’t allow it to be like that again. Pathetic! hisses a voice in your mind. You’re not used to intimacy, to showing affection without feeling shame. Certainly not to Astarion no less. Then the rest of his words sink in as he slides two fingers in the neckline of your robe, slowly, his gaze lowering on his hand touching your skin. Time slows down once more, your heart is pounding in your chest. You shiver when his cold fingers slip further in your armor, circling your hardened nipple again and again until you give up on acting unaffected and he hears your little gasps and strangled whines.
“A-Astarion, what are you…?”
“What am I doing, dear?” he finishes the sentence for you. You’re a little…incapacitated at the moment, it seems. “I think you know it very well”. His voice dangerously mellow.
You’d widen your eyes hadn’t pleasure made you dozy. You blink a few times, but your eyelids drop, heavy. You part your lips, the sigh you exhale reaches your ears muffled. You don’t argue for a little while, your arm reaches above your head, your fingers gripping the coarse crags that grates your skin as soon as you touch them, wetting the already dump surface with little droplets of blood. Your chest raises and falls with each ragged breath, your toes curl in your dank boots. You raise a leg, hooking it on his thigh so that you can – in your opinion unnoticeably – grind against it, chasing more and more of the sensations he was so graciously extending you. A sly smirk creeps on his face seeing you falling apart because of such a trifling contact. Aren’t you precious, acting like you’ve never been touched before. He delights in the idea for a moment, that his hands are the only ones that ever grazed your bare skin (not for slicing it, burning it and freezing it of course, or he’d have the competition of quite a few goblins, drows and Dark Gods’ favorites). He grabs the neckline of the robe pulling it down further. The tip of his tongue slides up your breast stopping on your nipple to circle and suck it. You swallow, trying to clench your thighs but only ending up squeezing his. Astarion casually bites your nipple before continuing his ascent licking your chest, your neck, your chin and your parted lips. His hand grabs your hip tightly, pressing you against him further, then his fingers find your chest again. He pulls back to look at your face, your half-lidded eyes slowly opening to meet his.
“Your hands are really pretty. Your fingers…” you pause, your voice soft, barely a whisper “…feel nice.”
“I had a feeling you liked them”. Astarion’s tone is amused, smug. Of course it is. He kisses your cheek, your temple, he’s almost nuzzling into you. “Would you like me to touch you a little further?” he thumbs your nipple, squeezes your breast a little, then presses his hand against it, slides it down your body until his fingers find the slit of your armor. You gasp as soon as they graze your inner thigh. The corner of his mouth twitches before stretching in a smirk.
“Well, that's a little dramatic, don't you think? I haven’t even touched you yet”. His voice is affectionate, but it’s evident how presumptuous he is. You feel your cheeks heating up, you scoff and turn your head to the side.
“Ain’t nothing special, you know? Been done a thousand times before you, vampire” you glare, your lips pursed.
“Oh? Do you come undone this easily at any hand’s touch? How disappointing”.
“No! I…” you turn to face him again, more flustered than ever, concern evident on your face. Have you offended him? Does he think you don’t like him, that you’d like just anyone doing this to you? That he’s just a tool for your own enjoyment? Couldn’t be any further from the truth.
Since you met him, you basically made a purity pledge, damn spawn. And not by your will, for certain. You’re not sure how or when it happened, but at some point, in this disgraced journey of yours, any other creature’s touch almost disgusted you. Elf, drow, human, tiefling, man or woman, tall or short, fair or dark, shy or outgoing, it didn’t matter, if it wasn’t him. You eluded any other’s touch to preserve yourself for a caress that was forbidden to you. Forbidden by who, you might ask? By yourself, by the circumstances, by the gods, even. The more you craved, the less deserving of attaining you felt.
“I know you don’t” he whispers back. Astarion presses his lips to yours once again, his kiss lazy and deep. His fingers find your underwear, the fancy one you just got from Figaro’s Facemaker’s Boutique that you find rather uncomfortable when fighting.
Astarion’s index and middle finger graze your panties a few times, tentatively?, you wonder. No, he doesn’t need to attempt. He knows. Tauntingly is more like it. You hold your breath until he moves your panties aside to rub his fingers up and down your clit. You almost hiss at the contact, his fingers are cold and it feels better than it should. He begins to rub lazy circles around it, relishing the sight of you at his mercy and the little sounds you try to choke back down your throat.
“S-shouldn’t do that” you say, and you grip his wrist tightly, nails digging in his skin. “Stop, I’ll…” he doesn’t move a fraction of an inch, still touching you deliberately as you squirm in his arms.
“Cumming already? You’re so easy. Doesn’t quite suit a leader”. He mocks, his other hand reaches for your breasts again. You hiccup and throw your head back so ungraciously that you hurt yourself. “Shouldn’t you be unswerving, aloof, unresponsive? As unmoved as possible by…extraordinary circumstances?”
“I detest you” you breathe out, ignominious sounds of pleasure leaving your lips.
“Doesn’t really sound like you do, darling”. Astarion hisses when your nails sink so deep in his wrist they draw blood. He refrains from grousing about it though, too engrossed with the sense of power of having rendered his revered leader a whimpering mess, chasing these little moments of weakness of yours. They never last long. You grab his shirt tightly and drag him towards you. His eyes widen, he’s almost startled. You let out a strangled scream before sinking your teeth in his shoulder. You come undone and the taste of his blood fills your mouth, your lips close around the wound, and you suck like he’s done to you many times before. You always liked to cut up pretty things after all. To have your mouth dirty with blood. Each time it left you wonder whether a heaven exists and if it does, whether its gates already banished you once and for all. And if you were indeed banished, was it the last kill or the one before that, that condemned you for eternity? Lost in thought you cling to him, your hands find his shoulders. Your breathing is still quickened, your heart beats so frantically that Astarion can feel it against his ribcage. He knows that you’re not gentle or delicate always. He doesn’t need you to be. He holds you close and kisses your head, a hand comes up to caress your hair. He twists it around his fingers, handling it like he would a precious piece of fabric. And when he’s satisfied, he pulls, hard. Your head is yanked back. You’re met with glistening red eyes. He looks like a mad man, and you know that so do you.
“You’re hideous” he says, and it’s not mean. He’s smiling as he speaks, he licks his blood off your lips, then his tongue demands for yours. He undoes his pants, and you can feel it, hard and wet against your thigh. “I know you want to hurt me. And hurt yourself on me too”. He kisses the corner of your lips and grabs his dick to rub the tip up and down your drenched pussy. Your body twitches each time he brushes your sensitive clit. “May I?”.
You nod and the next thing you hear is your own scream of pain before actually sensing the familiar burning feeling. Astarion grabbed your hips tightly and pushed them down harshly, entering you in one swift motion. You hold onto his shoulders, nails digging in your freshly made wound. He groans and you hiss. You catch your breath adjusting to his size and whisper in his ear.
“That was evil” you utter, your breathing accelerated. You clench around him, more because of the not so pleasant feeling rather than to tease him and he grunts.
“Forgive me, I might have gotten the idea that it was gonna slide in nice and easy”. With a sardonic smile on his face, he delicately grabs your jaw wetting your cheek with his glistening fingers.
You scrunch up your face. “You’re disgusting”.
He chuckles and rubs his nose on your cheek. “Want me to be gentle?”. He doesn’t move yet, an arm sliding around your middle. When he finally does his movements are slow and deep. You sigh in pleasure and put a hand behind his neck, cheek pressed to his.
“I want...I need you inside me like this. Need you to take and take until there’s nothing left. You don’t understand how much I ache for…” destruction. Destroy and be destroyed. That’s why you never dared to lay a hand on him before, terrified he’d crumble between your bloody fingers. But it’s different now. He’s hurting you too. Blood for blood, flesh for flesh. You look in his eyes, a wry smile looming on your chapped lips. He puts a finger under your chin, lifting your face to take a better look at your expression as if to make sure he heard you right.
“As you wish, lover”. He rests a hand against the rocks near your head, his other arm guiding your hips in a ruthless pace. You both grunt and whine and hiss, clawing at each other like one could escape the other’s grasp at any moment. Astarion’s head is dizzy due to the long-awaited pleasure, but still clear enough to ask if he could sink his teeth in you.
“You already sunk something way bigger inside me, do you really need to ask?”
“Naturally, I always ask first. I'm civilised, unlike you”. You don’t have time to reply, soon lost in the disorienting feeling of the pleasure building inside you and the familiar sting of his bite. The more of your blood flows down Astarion’s throat the closer to his orgasm he gets. His grip on you bruising at this point. As the familiar warmth spreads through your core, you cry out his name and it comes out as a prayer spilled from quivering lips. He screams the name of a god he knows quite well as he loses himself in you. Desperation and fury dripping from each syllable. You press your lips to his, as if it’d soothe his agony. His kiss lecherous and vicious just like his movements. But what you hear is not the wail of a martyr. It’s the cry of sore wrists tearing the rope that held them bound, the liberating cry of receiving a caress after only having known violent touches. You hold him close as a wordless scream leaves your lips and you cum together, hot liquid filling your insides and dripping down your things. Soon you’re left there, cold and sweaty against the slimy wall, staring at your vampire companion the same way Peter would have looked at Jesus, had he the chance of seeing his face once again after having denied him.
“It felt lonely, you know” Astarion says quietly after a while. To be treated like a ghost. The metaphor forming in his mind is not that far from the truth. You acted like a psychic child looking the other way at the sight of an unwanted presence as if obstinate neglect could make it disappear. Just like at the sight of a spirit, you got startled whenever you couldn’t avoid his sight, his touch. “To have you so close all the time…” he raises a hand to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear “…only for you to flee away as soon as I deluded myself that I could reach you”. You grab Astarion’s hand not to let him take it away from your face, pressing your cheek to his palm and closing your eyes. “It’s always been a terrible affair to me. To want. It petrifies me”. You pause. “As long as I crave nothing, nothing can mislead me. Nor be taken away from me. If I don’t cherish nor desire anything, what can be stolen from me? I’d replace it with something else anyway”. Your look is open and sincere, he doesn’t doubt you. “You…I knew I wouldn’t find you in someone else. I always kept you at a distance so I would have never known what I could have lost and now…”
“Such a silly little thing you are. Should have told me to part ways instead of ever guarding my side. I won’t forget it” he grazes your lips, then puts his arms around you and holds you close.
Despite his grip you soon feel that…something is missing. The wall behind your back crumbles and you slip from his arms, falling on your knees.
“Tch. I hate happy endings”. You grunt at the sudden pain of the bump and the scratches, before lifting your head and meeting Laezel’s repulsed grimace.
“There were quite a few…happy endings, it appears to me”. Soon follows Gale’s comment. “That does not strike me as a ‘need of saving situation’…would you perhaps like me to restore that side of the wall, leave you a few more minutes in heaven, as they say?”
“Given your record, Gale, I’ll pass” you get up and shake off the dust.
“How considerate. However, I’d like to inform you that we don’t really need a cave to set the mood”, retorts Astarion.
“Suit yourselves”.
“You better not set any mood anymore, Astarion” warns Laezel.
“Well, I didn’t really mind. That was a hell of a show”. Karlach stops in thought before adding “…which can be taken in two ways considering my opinion of the Hells”.
“I would have gladly missed it” sighs Shadowheart, as you all approach the stinky gooey hole that leads outside the sewers.
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demonlamb666 · 2 years
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Would you still love me if I was a worm? (Yandere Demon Brother reactions) pt 2
Warnings: yandere themes, slight nudity (not mentioned), slight manipulation and clingy themes.
You shuffled through the halls of the house of lamentation as your heavy backpack weighed you down, you didn’t let slow you down however as you hurried along. You’d been waiting for this all day! You rolled your eyes playfully at your own strangeness and knocked on the wooden door “hey I’m back”
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You stepped into Lucifer’s office immediately feeling comforted by the warm fire place and familiar smell. You weren’t sure exactly how Lucifer would react to you asking such a strange and sudden question but the thought did make you laugh. “Hey Lucifer” “oh darling” Lucifer says fondly “I wasn’t expecting you.” You walked up to his desk and examined the bits of paper scattered across it, Lucifer eyebrow rose as he watched you “is anything the matter darling?” You shook your head “nooo, but I do have a question.” He hummed in acknowledgment and you continued “would you still love me if I was a worm?” He looked up from the documents he was working on “if you were a worm you wouldn’t be capable of complex thought or romantic interest.” You pouted softly and folded your arms and plopped onto one of his couches. Lucifer looked up and noticed your disheartened face and smiled softly. You looked up as you felt the seat next to you dip and leaned into Lucifer’s side “you really wouldn’t love me if I was a worm?” you laughed softly “my dear Mc” he said cupping your chin in his hand “I would love you through a second celestial war, in eternal night and no matter what form you took, even if that form was a worm.” You giggled happily as Lucifer pressed a lingering and gentle kiss to your forehead “never doubt my affections for you my dear, for they run far deeper than you shall ever know.”
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Entering the luxurious bedroom you sighed at the pretty aroma of roses and different skin care products, a sudden exited squeal made you jump slightly and your boyfriend skipped over to you “sweetie there you are! You took absolutely forever!” “Ah sorry I got caught up” you smiled as Asmo clasped your hand in his and stared at you “I ran the bath for you so we could try out some new bath bombs I got” he exclaimed excitedly and you smiled as he dragged you towards his bathroom. Once you’d changed and stepped into the steaming bath water Asmo was quick to follow and gently massage a moisturiser over your legs, you admired his beautiful face as your legs relaxed under his touch “Asmo?” “Hm?” You smiled as he stared at you intently waiting for your reply “would you still love me if I was a worm?” He looked at you in confusion for a minute before a soft peal of laughter slipped past his lips “darling you’re much too gorgeous to be a worm! Although, it would be fun dressing you up like my little doll” you giggled softly at the image of Asmo dressing a tiny worm you up “well, if anyone could make a worm more attractive it would be you.” Asmo nodded and pressed his soft lips against yours before adding “I think you’d be the cutest worm sweetie!”
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“Satan” you called, peaking around bookshelves and trying not to stand on any of the precious books littering the ground. You’d almost thought you’d guessed wrong and he wasn’t here after all before the blond appeared from deep within the shelves “kitten, what a pleasant surprise” you collapsed into his arms and he held you securely “it’s hardly a surprise Satan, I always come here after school” you said curiously. A look of confusion flickered across his face before he chuckled “I must have got distracted, I was reading a fascinating new human world novel” you squeaked in excitement and gently took the book from his hand “oh I’ve never read this one” “how about we read it together kitten?” You nodded happily and sat on Satan’s bed, shuffling over to give him room “oh wait, I have to ask you something first!” He nodded at you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders “would you still love me if I was a worm?” You both laughed softly and held each other as Satan responded “I thought you were a kitten hmm, maybe you’re my little bookworm” “so you’d still love me?” you giggled. “Absolutely kitten” he said taking the book you had in your hand “now would you like me to read to you?” “Yes please” you responded as you cuddled up in his arms.
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You stepped into Levi’s room and were immediately greeted by his form embracing yours “Mc you’re here…I thought you wouldn’t come” “of course I came Levi, I do every day” you comforted as he held onto you. “I know but you took such a long time! I just thought maybe you finally realised what a useless otaku I was…” You took his chin in your hand and looked at him softly “Levi you know that’s not true, I’ll try to be quicker tomorrow, ok?” His eyes flashed happily and he smiled up at you “you’re so kind Mc, just make sure you not late tomorrow, ok? Or else I might think you’ve left me again.” You nodded and pressed a kiss to his cheek making him blush “ok I promise.” He grinned and grabbed your hand pulling you over to the tv he had set up “Mc you’ve got to see this new anime” you laughed a little as he enthusiastically dragged you across his room “wait Levi I had something to ask you first” he turned and faced you his smile dropping a little and fidgeted nervously “what is it?” “Well” you started “I was wondering, would you still love me if I was a worm?” Levi’s nervousness fades away and instead he looked away from you, seemingly embarrassed “of course I’d still love you Mc” he mumbled bashfully as his cheeks flushed pink. You grinned at him and sat down on the comfortable beanbags “good, because I’d still love you if you were a worm too!” He sat down next to you and rested his head on your shoulder shyly “thanks Mc…”
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evesbeve · 1 year
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The Curious Investigation on the Investigation Captain | Kaebedo Fic
Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None
Summary: “This is not an invitation to spoil me,” Albedo says through a bite, a hand over his mouth. “As you have with Klee.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about," Kaeya laughs. “Although… would it really be that bad, if I wanted to take care of you?”
(Or: When Sucrose mentions that she's been worried about Albedo and his constant cases of zoning out, Kaeya takes it upon himself to investigate the situation.)
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justsheerfilth1 · 1 year
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I feel like Steve is the master of eating pussy whereas Eddie would make you see god with his fingers
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eve-nightengale · 4 months
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The Night god Took Off His Clothes
The man wished that night,
that the Lord All Mighty
would step down from heaven,
to talk with him. But the man knew better.
There was no god; nor for that matter
were there answers.
So the man was a bit taken aback
when he stood and found God,
standing in front of him.
God said, in a voice of satin thunder
“Sit.”
and the man sat,
as one was wont to do with God standing before them.
So the man sat, and God?
God started taking off the clothes
humanity had given him.
First he took off his gender,
God’s features softened
and his beard fell away.
Next God threw away, the stern façade humanity had fitted them with,
and suddenly there was no stern mentor in the room,
only the laughing face
of a best friend the man hadn’t met yet.
Then God dissipated their physical form into ether,
pooling in the man’s chest like a neutron star,
dense, powerful, but also beautiful.
The man who now held God in his chest,
felt at once the laughter of a lover,
the grandfather’s smile,
the twinkle of a child’s eye.
God asked if the man understood now.
The man shook his head
and replied “ no, oh god who I denied.”
God left on a whisper thin as thread:
“My name is Love,
now go to bed.”
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arctichalo · 1 year
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thank you for tagging me @theirloveisgross !! 💕
Rule: tag 10 people you want to get to know better
Relationship status: i am engaged whoo it still sounds weird! been with my partner since we were 18 and got engaged last october after 12 years (should we have 18 by 1d as our first dance song yes or no??)
Favourite color: deep forest green, emerald green and lavender
Song stuck in my head rn: stole my heart by 1d (help)
Last song I listened to: idaho by gregory alan isakov
Three favourite foods: all kinds of pasta, mushroom risotto, ice cream
Last thing I googled: affordable retinols (i am on a skincare journey haha)
Dream trip: has been the same since i was 13 - spend at least a few weeks in New Zealand traveling, seeing the nature and all the locations LotR was filmed at
tagging @annoyingyellowhouse @sisterofficerchen @sunflowersofme @oksfranta @hometothecanyonmoon @chaotic-bells @blissoftheblue @zouis-exes-to-lovers do if you wanna! 🌻
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lgbtlunaverse · 7 months
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the wangxian + a-yuan "dads with an adopted son" thing is fine and enjoyable in fanfics honestly but I think we as a fandom are really not utilizing the idea of all of them in unconventional familial structures enough. Like, canonically it wasn't so much that wwx was a-yuan's guardian as that a-yuan was being raised collectively by the wens and wwx was adopted INTO the larger wen family. And lwj got attached to him through that. A-yuan just has these very attached weird uncles/older cousin figures that aren't related to him by blood at all but keep sticking around.
Just think of a modern AU with a lot less death where lwj does as he does in canon and keeps showering a-yuan in gifts as much as he can and when wwx is like "aiyah lan zhan you're gonna spoil him. Not everyone is as rich as you! What's his family supposed to say if they can't buy him all the stuff you do?" lwj just goes "Hm". And from then on out every year once a-yuan's birthday is near the extended Wen family members (well. the ones that are invited that is. No one wants wen chao at a birthday party) wakes up to a wechat payment from lwj.
Random wen cousin number 6 texts granny like
cousin 6: i just got 400 yuan????
granny: oh that's just wangji
cousin 6: i've never met this guy in my life???
granny: he wants you to buy a-yuan a nice birthday present!
cousin 6: how does he know my bank account???
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maybe you aren't evolved enough to appreciate female characters who are terrible people but I am. Let women be annoying, self obsessed, entitled, and as much of an asshole as their male counterparts.
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fieryskies · 1 year
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I love the ugliness of love. Removing love from its socially accepted roots. Love as not a mere source of tragedy and sadness, but as an active corruptive power over those it mystifies. Love as the addiction without cure and the wound forever bleeding. I love seeing the beauty of something so coveted spun on its head.
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aurorave · 2 years
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Words be hard tho. Why can’t the pictures in my brain just become words.
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devildomcrybaby · 10 months
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An empty man like you
▸Shigaraki Tomura x reader
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Minors do not interact Written with a fem!reader in mind and set when Shigaraki leads the Paranormal Liberation Front.
The first time, you felt something touching you and nothing actually touching you. You slowly turned your head to the side. Your eyes locked with someone else's. A young man with disheveled hair and an empty yet curious look in his eyes was staring at you. Your gaze shifted down to see two of his fingers with a hefty lock of your hair twisted around it.
The second time you were sitting on a cracked wooden chair. You kept shifting in your seat, the prickles lightly piercing your skin and getting stuck in your clothes. You got up, having had enough. With the sudden movement your nylons got stuck in some of the chips. You frowned in that slight irritation of those everyday hassles, pulling, only to rip your tights further. Two cold fingers grazed the back of your thigh and you were free to move again. With your lips slightly parted, not expecting external interventions with your little pinprick, you turned to the side to give thanks. You were met with a figure in profile, slouched in the chair next to you, hood of a black sweatshirt up and arms folded. You said nothing.
The third time you were cold. So very cold. You had a fight with your boyfriend. You were walking fast, the only noise was the smacking of the smooth soles of your shoes on the concrete. Such a steady sound. You could still hear your thoughts over it, like it didn't even exist. You walked faster, made more noise. Your brain got crowded, your ideas clearer, now you know him. You never knew him. It hurt. You sneezed. Your cheeks were red. The tip of your nose was red. Someone was thinking it was really cute. The sole of your shoe suddenly made a screeching sound. You walked over a drain. You were ready for the impact, you screwed up your eyes. Four fingers gripped your forearm. You never hit the ground.
"Careful. A warrior with a broken leg is not very useful to her Grand Commander". This was the first time he spoke to you. You didn't have much time to respond. You felt a heavy weight on your shoulders. Finally you were warm. You reached out, it was pointless. Again that sound of smooth soles smacking against the concrete, but you were still. He already stalked away from you. You wrapped yourself tightly in the coat. It smelled nice.
The fourth time you thought was the last. Not only the last time he touched you. The last time anyone touched you. The last touch you'd ever feel. The sound reaching your ears was the most dreadful one you've ever heard, like a hyena choking on the carcass it was feasting on. Little did you know that the sound was coming from you. Thick lines of coagulated blood encircled your neck tightly. You were kneeling on the floor trying to let air flow in your lungs, your fingers vainly trying to grasp the filiform strings holding your neck in a vice grip. You were about to lose consciousness, when you felt a pull. You looked up to see the hero in a red suit lifting you up, angrily spitting words you couldn't hear. You grabbed his wrist weakly in an attempt to have him loosen his hold on the blood thread, barely registering the touch of an arm sliding around your waist. Suddenly the pressure eased and you could breathe. The thread was gone, dissolved in the air and you slumped in the stranger's arms. The hero (ironic to call someone who was about to choke you dead "hero", isn't it?) was laying on the floor. When two other heroes shielded him and took him away you saw a pool of blood under his knees. You smiled. Serves him right. The air flowing in your lungs felt like the best sensation you've ever experienced and you laughed. You laughed loudly and uncontrollably, throwing your arms around the stranger. Not a stranger. Your Grand Commander, looking at you with a frown, uncertain between sharing your joy and giving you a reprimand for your foolhardy attack. The last thing you remember of that moment is his face awkwardly twisting in an indulgent smile. He mustn't be used to that, you thought.
A slight smile appeared on your face as you recollected those moments, your lips curled to hide it and return serious, aware of the countless pair of eyes fixed on you. Shigaraki put a half-gloved hand on the back of the thigh left exposed by the wide slit of your silky dress. You took a step forward and his hand slid up until it reached your hip, lightly squeezing it. You sat on the arm of the gray lush chair he was sprawled on, crossing your legs. The mink-like tippet sliding off your shoulder as you moved. You tilted your head to him and he looked up at you. The smirk you saw mirrored yours.
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“Tomura!” you mumbled, still chewing on the salmon nigiri when his lips pressed on yours, tightly sealed. “What if I taste like fish and my tongue feels like a sea bass slapping his tail on the ground so as not to die?” you asked with a serious frown that made him burst out laughing.
“Your tongue always feels like a slimy slippery thing” Shigaraki’s eyes squinted in thought. “I wouldn’t say a sea bass on the verge of death though” he paused. “Rather an Angolan python constricting its prey until it exhales its last breath” he squeezed his empty hand to follow his words. You gasped loudly and threw a leatherette upholstered cushion his way, his loud laugh making you wordlessly grumble.
“Piss off! I’m never putting my tongue in your mouth ever again”. You turned away from him and brought your attention back on the sushi resting on the glass table in front of you.
“Hey, hey”, he breathed slowly. “This infringes our deal”. He was suddenly closer to you, his tone low and hoarse. He sounded abruptly serious, but you could feel the playfulness in his voice.
“You said, and I quote…”. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “If I’m not mistaken, ‘if I'm to be your bride’…maybe you didn’t say ‘bride’ though, maybe you said ‘mistress’?”, he glared at you from the side seeking confirmation, his lips curling up in a smirk when the only response he got was an ‘eat shit’.
He ignored you and hummed to himself. “Anyway, ‘If I’m to be your – let’s say here ‘lover’ – I demand you to kiss me all the time’, yeah I think it was something along these lines, give or take” he was nodding, pretending not to pay attention to you.
You quickly dropped the chopsticks and stretched towards him, biting his cheek, not exactly lightly, but not even with too much strength that’d really hurt him, just enough to leave a pink teeth shaped mark on his cheek for a few minutes maybe.
“I rescind it!”, you squealed when he grabbed your hips and pushed you down on the sofa, climbing on top of you, his knee between your legs.
“Is that your final word?” he asked in a whisper.
“That’s my final word” you repeated in a softer tone.
“Okay”. He slowly bent down and lazily moved his lips on yours, his tongue licking your lips asking for an access you were quick to give. Your fingers entangled in his hair, pulling him towards you until he was forced to put his body weight on you, still careful not to lean too much to be of discomfort to you.
A hand slid up your exposed leg, bending it to put it against his hip. He kept caressing your now naked thigh, your stomach, your breast, his thumb gliding over your hardening nipple a few times, applying more pressure the more he felt you shifting under him and quietly whining against his mouth.
“You were gorgeous tonight. If it was up to me I’d put you in these tight silky gowns you despise so much every day”.
“You could make it an order, Grand Commander”.
“I guess I could”.
His mouth was on yours again at that same slow and lascivious pace. His movements soon turned more frantic and rough. He gripped your hips with both hands, grinding his bulge against your pelvis a few times. His hand slipped up to squeeze, pinch and pull your other nipple through the smooth fabric of your dress.
One of your hands gripped his hair more tightly, the other clenched around the back of his suit jacket. Your leg tightened around him to press your core against the zipper of his pants.
“Please” you whimpered. He stopped kissing you and pulled away, lightly biting your lower lip. He shook his head no, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You sighed heavily, your face slightly contorted in a melancholic and resigned expression. “I don’t care if…”.
“Shhh” his hand moved from your face, his thumb sliding over your lower lip in its wake. His hand rested against your neck, subtly squeezing on your pulse points. His nose rubbed against yours again. He kissed you languidly one last time before getting up and staring at you with flushed cheeks and a heavy breath.
You sat up on the sofa, your hands resting on each side of you. You looked up at him disoriented, the back of your hand brushing quickly against the underside of your nose. Hair tousled, deep red cheeks and swollen lips.
What a sight.
Shigaraki caressed your heated cheek with the back of his hand, then with his thumb. He tucked a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your face when you abruptly sat up. He moved the rest of your hair to let them fall behind your shoulders. The tips of his fingers traced your neck. Two fingers sneaked in the neckline of your dress, slightly pulling it down to show more of your cleavage, then went up to your chin lifting your face for your eyes to meet his.
“Sit pretty like this for me, yeah?”.
Heat raised to your cheeks as you nodded, watching enthralled his slender fingers moving to the zip of his pants, undoing it. He shuddered when his palm met his hard-on. Your little whimpers and pleas, offering, no, begging for him to take something, anything from you, your yielding soft body pressed against his, your hands setting his skin on fire and the view in front of his eyes did a number on him. The slightest of touches could have gotten him off by then.
“Just…” he exhaled shakily when his hand gripped his shaft loosely, then more tightly. “…sit here and look cute while I jerk off on your pretty little face” he said between aquiver breaths, loosening his tie and the first buttons of his white shirt in the meanwhile. You blushed harder at his words, leaning slightly towards him, your fingers tracing his wrist and the back of the hand he was slowly moving up and down his dick. You met the look in his eyes and pulled your hand away. It wasn’t a menacing or irked look, rather an inquiring one. Maybe he craved your touch too. But that was not what he asked for. He was your Grand Commander still. You looked up at him again and let some drivel run from your lips to the tip of his dick. He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, throwing his head back, enjoying the smoother friction of his palm. “Smart girl. So good. You’re so good. Fuck”.
You smiled and sat back on the sofa crossing your exposed leg over the other, then slightly squeezed your shoulders together to have your dress slide further down exposing even more skin. He wanted a show, after all.
“Shit. So pretty. Pretty little thing. Just for me, yeah?” he panted, slightly twisting his hand, his thumb running over the flushed red tip, his fingers squeezing harder and moving faster. You tore your gaze away from his hand to look at his face. His head thrown back, half-lidded eyes hungrily meeting yours as he looked up from your body. His chest heaving just like yours. You squeezed your legs together when you felt your panties soaked.
“Everything is just for you. I belong to you. Everyone and everything in this city belongs to you. To look at. To touch. To toy with. To destroy” you whispered.
“You’re the only thing” his breath hitched, his eyebrows knitted together. “The only thing I laid my hands on I never felt the urge to destroy. The sole living breathing thing I didn’t dream of seeing crumble under my fingers” he said between ragged breaths.
“What if I wanted you to?”
“That’s not...” he squeezes his eyes shut lost in pleasure. “I’ll give you what you want. Shit, I want it too. So bad. Don’t wanna hurt you, see. Fuck, you’d look adorable crying on my cock” he slurred, his mind going blank. He suddenly grabbed your jaw tightly, nails digging in your cheeks and you gasped.
“Is that what you want? Your cute little pussy bleeding on your Commander’s cock that’s too big for you to take?”.
“Y-yeah” you stuttered looking into his eyes, a dimness you didn’t recognize flashing in his red pupils. “I want you to make a mess out of me. An empty man like you, always touching me so gently. Why am I the only thing you won’t break?”.
“Sick girl. Sick girl” his fingers pressed harder underneath the head and moved faster. He pinched your chin hard between his fingers and bent down to slide his tongue over yours, raw and desperate, biting your lip hard only to lick the blood off your mouth right after. “Don’t know what you’re asking for. Gonna make your dress dirty. Fuck, I’m sorry”.
“Cum on my face then”. His eyes shoot up to yours, delirious, like you slapped him in the face. “Please?” he smirked ungraciously, roughly grabbing your hair and twisting it in a sort of ponytail, pulling your head to have it bent up, your lips slightly parted.
“So polite. A filthy, disgusting, polite subordinate” he tugged at your hair further making you whimper and scrunch your face. The familiar hot thick liquid hit your face. You felt it running on your eyelashes, down your cheeks and neck. You licked your lips tasting the salt and carefully opened your eyes to meet Shigaraki’s. He collected some of his cum from your cleavage, fighting the urge to spread it all over your chest and brought his fingers to your parted lips. You licked them clean from the base to the tips and smiled at him.
“Thank you, Commander”. He tucked his dick into the waistband of his pants and pulled the zipper up.
“Get yourself cleaned up and join me. This bed they arranged for me is awfully wide and cold”.
You smirked to yourself.
“I’ll help you unzip your dress when you get back”.
Banner from: @cafekitsune
Too many nasty thoughts for a single character, I can't get him out of my head.
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demonlamb666 · 2 years
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How would yandere Deku react to reader doing a tiktok challenge of calling another dude cute? I’d LOVE to see his reactions
Oof 😅
Warnings: yandere themes, obsessive behaviour, clingy behaviour, jealousy.
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You smiled cheekily as you set up your phone and covered it carefully with your jacket, making sure the camera wasn’t blocked. You sat impatiently as you waited for your boyfriend to finish up in his office. You grin softly as the car door opens and Izuku sits in the seat next to you, his muscular body struggling to fit in your small car. “Hi sweetie! How was your day?” Izuku asked as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It was good” you responded simply as he started driving “I should have brought your car though, it seems like you’re a little squished” you laughed. He smiled at you happily as you as your car sped along the roads. You came to your stop and parked the car before seeing your chance as a man crossed the road “oh my god!” you exclaimed “that guy is so cute….”
~His heart practically drops into his stomach at your words. He just turns and stares at you hoping he misheard or that his brain was playing a cruel trick on him. When he confirms that you did in fact call another dude cute he’s shattered. He still has lingering insecurities from when he was a child about not being good enough and not being strong enough to be a hero, which is why he works so hard to be the best for you.
~He’s silent for the most part as a million thoughts run through his head. Do you not love him? Do you not find him attractive? Do you want to leave him! He’s panicking internally while you watch him, unsure of what to do. You on the other hand don’t know if he somehow just didn’t hear you or maybe he knew you were pranking him and he decided to ignore you.
“…Zuku? Baby are you ok?” you asked cautiously as your boyfriend stared into the distance and clutched the steering wheel. You touched his shoulder gently and yelped in shock as his hand wrapped around your wrists, you looked at him as he stared at you with teary eyes “please…please…don’t leave me.” You winced as his grip tightened on you “Izuku, I’m not gonna leave you” you rubbed his knuckles slowly, guilt eating away at you for upsetting him “I’m so sorry it was just a stupid prank.” He let go of you softly as his tears started to spill down his cheeks “really?” “I love you Zuku, I’m not gonna leave you” you whispered as you wiped away his tears. You kissed his forehead apologetically as he wrapped his arms around you tightly “bunny don’t ever leave me, you can’t leave me, I won’t let you!” He mumbled into your shirt as you comforted him, your eyebrow raised at his concerning words. You looked at the camera still hidden under your coat as Izuku held you tightly. Maybe this should be the last time you try a tick tock prank on your boyfriend…
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evesbeve · 1 year
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secret menu item | Kaebedo, Ragbros, Klee Fic
Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None
Summary: “What do I do first, Big Brother Diluc?”
Albedo catches the exact moment life is drained from Kaeya’s eye.
“Oh God,” he mumbles and rests his forehead on the table. Albedo should feel bad—but the smile forming on his face has other plans. “He’s Big Brother Diluc now.”
(Or: When Albedo, Kaeya, and Klee visit Angel's Share, Diluc offers to teach a certain Spark Knight how to mix her first drink.)
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hello-eeveev · 2 months
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Essek was seated on the couch in the living room. Caleb stepped up behind him and, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, leaned his brow against the crown of Essek’s head. Essek made a small noise of greeting and raised a hand to rest at the nape of Caleb’s neck. His fingers worked their way underneath Caleb’s ponytail and scratched gently at his scalp. Caleb sighed, a haze of contentment settling over him at the touch. Essek tilted his head back, running his nose along the length of Caleb’s. “Hello, dear,” he said. “Hallo.”
An illustration of one of my favorite moments from my fic How to Rest! I love the wizards and I love when they are soft!!!
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thatsbelievable · 4 months
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arctichalo · 2 years
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my 30th birthday went a little like this
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