#losing my fucking Marbles right now
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AYO?!?!?!???!?!?!??!!>!?!
#losing my fucking Marbles right now#never thought i'd get a house oh my goduaguighdfjfregnhjsnfsdarjgnkjg#this was my first time trying the lottery in like. 5 months? id given up#im so. oh my god
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ADULT VAN ANNOUNCEMENT?????
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WHY ARE YOU SO EVIL!!! /POS. ATTACKING YOU.
Xemnas and Xigbar for 37 if that number hasn't been done? If it has, how about 74?
no puedo pedirle lo eterno a un simple mortal // ay, todo lo que he hecho por ti.
[ID: a mostly black and white drawing with a purple overlay of xigbar and xemnas shown from the hip up on the left side of the image. the background is black and has some diagonal lines with a bit of transparency on the right side. the shadows are harsh, with only a bit of light falling on their faces.
they stand before each other turned to the audience. xigbar, holds the handle and the middle of No Name before him, head tilted down as he looks to the audience. xemnas stands a full head taller behind xigbar, his left hand held some distance below the bladed tip of No Name, his left eye is covered by his fringe.
xemnas visible eye is painted ochre with a white pupil, while xigbar's eye is white and gold. The eyes on no name's handle and the gazing eye on the blade are a vibrant cyan. the caption reads the spanish lyrics "i can't ask a simple mortal for a forever" and "oh, everything i've done for you." /End ID.]
close-up under keep reading.
#capisnotonfire#PUTS MY HAND TO MY STERNUM AND FALLS TO THE FLOOR ON MY KNEES /affectionate#warning to whoever might open the link; there's a slightly suggestive several 'ay's at the beginning porque shakira it's also bass heavy#OBJECTIVELY THE FUNNIEST SONG THAT COULD'VE COME UP. it's the gift that keeps on giving!!#this specific remix's been on my top list... several years; top five for a couple. i've loved it forever. top radio edits ever.#it's basically about a guy that makes up excuses to hide he's cheating and a gal that's fed up with his bullshit and is like. okay. bye.#i briefly considered going with............ right now i know my heart is yours <- in regards to i'm already half-xehanort#as per usual not ship art but it would be HILARIOUS if it was. it would've been able to go so many incredibly funny tragic ways#nano does reqs#my doods#xigbar kh#xemnas kh#IT TOOK SO LONG. putting this out there because i WILL lose my marbles if i do anything more. it's not as polished as it could.#fret not if you've asked for a req i am still doing 'em this one just. kicked my ass (been busy). i tried a couple of things and failed#THEN the file corrupted like 9 hours in and i wanted to die a little (thank the heavens my drawing app has a#thing to get back corrupted files through their screen recording) but i GIVE UP (affectionate)#Does this make sense thematically? Fuck if i know. i forgot all lore (half serious). it looked cooler in my head (jesting)#anyways. mwah tysm for the ask<3#i love posting at mystifying times (i finish at terrible hours and get excited)#described#74
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Say what you will about the Cyrano movie (and one day I'll be able to in a halfway articulate manner), but I am still mildly obsessed with "Every Letter", and I think about this ending couplet all the time...
Your letters are drawings on me from above
I know who you are and I know you are loved
Just... the idea of Cyrano and Christian receiving a letter in return from Roxanne and feeling their breath catch both with ecstasy and with bitter regret.
I know who you are...
But she can't. But she mustn't. But it would break her heart--she would never trust them again. But it wouldn't be fair to Christian. But Cyrano could never show his face again. But they already feel themselves burn under her gaze, and to meet it honestly without the armor of a soldier, of these letters, would scorch them until nothing remains. But the only true honor is to hide, even if they know it's really the coward's way out. But the only safety (if they were being brutally honest with themselves) is to hide.
... and I know you are loved.
But God, they wish they didn't have to.
#It's four thirty in the morning and I have been slam-dunked back into Cyrano Hell...#Listen okay ever since the movie introduced the idea of *Roxanne actually writing back* I have been even less normal about these idiots.#The imagery is so fucking delicious either way because you get to imagine either the two of them sitting close enough together#that they can both read either together or over the other's shoulder and just... occupying that space together the two nearly becoming one#and I get to lose my mind over the proximity and the warmth between them forged in the fire of their love for Roxanne.#OR *or or*... the two of them taking turns reading and just *watching* the other's face as they read trying to glean from their expressions#what she might have said and the intensity of that study becoming its own terrible intimacy that right now they can only show through proxy#and I *also* get to lose my mind over Cyrano watching Christian and musing that even if his partner might look like a marble statue#he's never seen a marble statue make that face before but he's *definitely* seen it from Roxanne and it's just as coronary-inducing on both#and Christian watching Cyrano and musing that this might be the closest he'll ever come to seeing the pride of the cadets#and the mythic figure he's built around himself completely *shatter* if only for a moment... he's *human* and he's *exquisite.*#CANNOT be normal about it... it's 'So--here's my heart under your velvet now'--#it's 'I've loved but one (man) in my life and now I must lose him twice'--#it's the darkness of the balcony and the endless sunshine metaphors regarding Roxanne herself--#it's the goddamn Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known and how much Roxanne *craves* it from two men terrified to submit to it...#God these three make me sick I love them so much.#cyrano de bergerac
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my ipad randomly giving up on me has made me realize that i am actually one small inconvenience away from losing my shit
#it’s a brand new ipad too#i’ve had it for like five months#didn’t even do anything to it either#it deadass only has procreate and netflix downloaded on it#i decided to charge it while it was at 5% and then a few hours later i went to continue my drawing and it won’t even turn on#fuck this guys#i’m actually so upset#i mean i have a warranty and can just trade it in for a new one#but still#i don’t want to deal with this shit#between all of my health problems both mental and physical right now#and with finals coming up#i’m literally ready to end it all#y’all pray for me because i might actually lose my marbles#ipad#tech issues
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i'm going to rip someone's head off
#text#sorry. calculating my credits completion rate right now and i dont think my transfer credits are counted even tho they SHOULD BE#AND THOSE WOULD PUT ME OVER THE COMPLETION RATE I NEED TO BE OFF PROBATION#-___- i might talk to an advisor tmrw bc i'm losing my marbles . all As and Bs in my classes didnt drop any didnt share confidential#documents publicly didnt get off the academic grind for a SECOND this whole semester. take me off fucking probation you fucking school#college tag
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ohhh my god okay that is. an INCREDIBLY accurate fucking. portrayal of flashbacks. okay!!!! im going to walk into the fucking ocean holy fuck
#[ren]#OHH MY GOD. OH MY GOD#SORRY I DONT RELLY HAVE WORDS#my mind is kind of. blank. right now.#but just know im. losing my fucking marbles
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god it's easy to forget how fucking miserable chemo is when you've gone almost ten years without it (''':
#I'm losing my fucking marbles in this hospital room guys im 🤏 this close#my whole body feels like its fucking melting away like all of it#i feel like my fingernails are melting away like candle wax and my skin is fucking numb#my head cant think a straight thought and my chest is so fucking heavy#it feels like instead of blood my heart is pumping fucking gravel!!! jesus christ#I've been in here for like five days i need to get out right now man#i should be going home in like 24 hours or less but holy shit it feels so far#i wanna be home so bad i miss my bed and my fiancee and my cat#AND THE SMELLS HERE. HOLY SHIT. CHEMO MAKES EVERYTHING FUCKING STINK#literally my own skin smell makes me wanna throw up it's so ridiculous#anyway sorry just having a breakdown on main lol (:::#negative#round 2
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the fucking wild thing about living around/with people who are like. yk. ableist in a Very Specific Way (and being bullied for being disabled) is how that kinda. internalises a lil weirdly or whatever
like i was terrified for fucking ages that i wouldnt be applicable for my country's disability allowance thing because im like. not the ~right kind~ of disabled (despite being. objectively disabled regardless).
i think its kinda like. related to the general lack of equity or something. im not looked at like im disabled (and having specific needs that need to be tended to), but just. someone who's lazy and doesnt want to do a thing. like i only got permission to wear my headphones in school THIS YEAR. i only got access to my school's disability support system like. what 2 years ago? after having my diagnosis for i think 4? 5 years at this point i think. i function so specifically that its just generally assumed that i dont need extra supports until its made APPARENT that i need them later on (though ofc the whole "me being aggressively suicidal at age 12/13" thing didnt actually lead to those supports. which i think is funny. i think my parents just assumed "erm. this is just a phase. if we address it once i SHOULD be fine and our child will never be suicidal AGAIN proceeds to. not ABUSE per se but. be kind of Wrong about that child (not taking emotional needs in to account, getting mad because that child reacted to having their boundaries knowingly crossed in regards to sensory overload from. the sensory processing disorder theyve been Diagnosed with. but thats not what im talking about right now so im going to stop thinking about it ok cool)
like how difficult can it be to comprehend that theres just things i Cant Do. i dont Care if youre able to block out things you dont want to hear, mom, i dont care if youre able to just get up and do things but i cant and i dont know how to dumb that down for you any more than i have already because you are actively not listening to me. and idk
im really fucking overwhelmed right now because my stupid godawful brother is snoring through the walls and. again. i cant just fucking Block That Out. so im wearing my headphones and listening to some rainworld videos but also i need to charge my headphones for the morning so i might just like. die
#i cant fucking deal wit h this actually#not that anybody gives a shit#god im BEGGING him to STOP IT i mgoint to lose my fucking marbles how m i supposed to sleep right now#m so fucking tired and i cant sleep because i cant just ~ignore~ tihings i fucking hate it here
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I see glasses on a guy and I think he's the type to fuck you stupid, braincells falling out of your head, losing your marbles in real time, and he kisses your temple and coos to you all sweetly like "I know baby, I know" while you're babbling barely coherent barely breathing let alone speaking, just going through the most intense pleasure you've ever felt while he effortlessly keeps up a steady pace and holds you in place.
Just the type to be like "that's it baby, there you go. Just let go for me. Let go and take it, pretty girl. Just a little more for me." Just absolutely fucking railing you while stroking your hair and anchoring you with affection.
Imagine this with Seonghwa, his dark eyes staring down at you behind his glasses, while he hums to you in his deep voice, "There you go baby, take this cock. Aww, what's wrong? Can't talk? Oh, well I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that pretty girl?"
"I know it feels good, I know it does baby." Seonghwa murmurs with a smile that's equal parts endearing and arrogant, so self satisfied and absolutely reveling in your wanton reactions. He loves the way you writhe beneath him, how your body twists and jerks in response to the pleasure he gives you, how a particularly deep thrust can make you arch off the desk and claw at the hard wood with scrambling hands.
Fuck he loves doing this with you. He can never get enough of you, the way you ripple around his cock and envelop him in your silken heat, how you get so wet that your juices completely soak his cock and spill onto both of your thighs, how fucking pretty you look taking his cock like this. He loves to witness the sight of your braincells leaving in real time, your eyes clouding over and growing hazy and unfocused before the effort to keep them open becomes too much and you slide them closed. He loves to watch you fall apart for him, so much so it's almost hard to concentrate on fucking you and making you feel even more overwhelming pleasure. Almost. His pride and his lust collide to form his absolutely ardent want for you, a craving that leads him between your legs over and over again.
"Think you can take me deeper, baby?" You hear through your haze of lust and desire. You're barely aware of the sounds you're making, barely able to feel the sharp puffs of air that surely indicate you're making some sort of noise. All you feel is his cock delving into you over and over again and the resulting bursts of pleasure, and his hand stroking the side of your face, his thumb resting right on your cheek and his palm cradling your jaw. You turn your head into his hand, your legs starting to get tired from the effort of keeping them open. He notices this, his other hand clutching your inner thigh to keep your legs spread for him. He starts thrusting deeper, stars dancing at the edge of your vision as you whine in bliss, panting raggedly.
"There you go, pretty girl. I knew you could take it." He whispers his praise against your sweat covered brow, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The tenderness melts into an newfound wave of immense pleasure as he grinds his cock deep inside you, stimulating multiple points of pleasure with every roll of his hips. You're practically sobbing now, gasping out sharp whines as your hips twist and jerk against him, only to be held in place by his strong grasp.
His lips make their way down your temple, down the side of your face, down the side of your neck, in the form of slow, methodical kisses, languid enough to let the heat of each kiss seep into your skin. He hums to you the whole time, grinding into you, just enjoying your pussy, "Mmm, you feel so good, baby. I could fuck you like this all day. Just keep you wrapped around my cock. You'd like that wouldn't you?"
And you nod, because even though you're overwhelmed to the point of tears welling up in your eyes, you've never felt more pleasure than when he fucks you like this.
Something about guys in glasses who know exactly what they're doing makes the brain go brr 🥶
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A Tatted Sin.
Toji Fushiguro X Reader
Summary: You got yourself a womb tattoo to surprise Toji. He loved it. A bit too much.
(18+)
Tags: Smut, oral sex, vaginal sex, female reader, toji has a big dick lol, soft toji, praise kink, dirty talking, face riding and creampie
Cross posted on AO3
MDNI and do not interact if uncomfortable
To state that Toji was horny was an understatement.
Here he was, you sprawled out underneath him, your riotous laughter echoing about in the room, in the middle of a pillow fight you had bugged him into when he caught a glance of it.
A delicate little inked intricacy peaking out right below your curvy navel and Toji’s was about to lose his marbles. How had he never noticed it before and maybe it was time he got rid of all your high-waisted jeans. “When did you get this one love?” he turned to look at you, his expression darkening. You didn’t quite understand him at first but right before the embarrassment could sink in, he pinned you down one hand on your wrists and his other one on your tattoo, warm and big, rough against your soft skin.
“I was…going to tell you about it Toji-” “Yeah?” Toji nuzzled his knee closer to your core and his mouth latching onto your pulse point on your neck “Answer the question bambina, when did you get it done.” he whispered nipping about the sensitive area. “A week ago..mmph-!” a pitiful mewl leaving your lips the moment he crashes his lips onto yours, grabbing you the by waist and pulling you hard and closer than ever. Your luscious fucking scent was all over Toji and if he could just bottle it up or make it settle in his bones he would.
“Hiding that precious little thing from me for a week now love? You could have asked nicely and I would kissed it better for you the day itself” He wasn’t angry about you getting tatted, if anything he loved it more than anything. His innocent girl, whose eyes welled up even if she accidentally touched something hot went through all that pain, of course, he had to reward you, In his own way that is.
Ripping away your flimsy shirt, he immediately latched his lips onto your perky little mounds, leaving half-mooned crescents all over one and twisting and deliciously torturing the other with his fingers. Your head was fuzzy, feeling Toji all over you and his mouth leaving a trail of fire everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Those moans leaving your mouth were Toji’s drug and his carnal touches, with his hands splayed all over the tattoo had you gasping “Toji-Please-”, you can hear a hard tear as he ripped off your shorts, his pupils almost blown at the site in front of him.
Lips bruised a beautiful red, a sinful tattoo and a cunt wetter than a waterfall you were Toji’s salvation. He got around to kissing your still-fresh tattoo, licking it and massaging around with his tongue. Your navel had always been a pleasure spot for you but with the added pain from the tattoo and Toji’s ministrations, it was ecstacy. If you had known it would get Toji so riled up maybe you would have got it done sooner even. “Did it hurt baby? Needle all over, ink on your precious little womb” he asked while dipping his tongue in and out of your belly button. “It did-hurt’…so much Toji, but I wanted to surprise you-” Toji’s cock ached so much, rubbing himself when he could over your thighs, precum staining his boxers. He could just take you right now but he was enjoying the tease.
“Stop teasing …please..baby…ahmphh-” he was nipping at your hip bones, your inner thighs, kissing and licking anywhere but where you were aching the most at this moment. “Beg for it, love. Tell me what do you want me to do to you.” he rid himself of his office shirt and pants and the view in front was heaven. Toji in all his muscular glory, scars all over his chest and stomach and goosebumps all over his skin and perked-up brown nipples. “Do you want me to kiss you for being a good little girl and sitting through the pain? or put my cock in your cunt and make both of us see how far up to the tattoo it reaches? Huh?”
Could he get any dirtier and hotter than this?
You grabbed him by his face and kissed his plump lips slowly, pulling and swirling over his tongue “Kiss me down there Toji…it..aches” “Come on baby you can do better than that, spell it out” “My clit Toji..please-” before you could finish, Toji’s wet tongue was on your pulsating nub, sucking and lapping up your juices like a man damn possessed. With your grip on his dark locks and your knees buckling, you could feel the tension building up in your tummy, ever more with his tongue plunging in and out your seeping hole and his nose pressing into your clit, with you riding his face, it was all too much. “I am gonna cum baby…keep going…right there” But what you didn’t expect was Toji to pull out right before you could ride out your high, and kiss you, making you taste your own arousal and a mix of his saliva. “You will only be cumming with me inside you of today”
“What do you mean…aghhh..Toji slow down.” You gasped as he was sinking into you, his ridiculous length kissing your core in the most delicious way, your gummy walls swallowing him. “Gosh baby, look at this pussy, starving for me, taking me so well…uggh godd” Toji’s guttural moans only made you clench around him even more, “such a dirty little minx you are huh? Look what you have reduced me to baby, I don’t think I can ever get enough of this tight cunt—fuck!” your hips and back arching into him and your tits brushing and rubbing right against his hard pecs, adding to the pleasure. His hips were rutting into you wildly and yours were setting their own sensuous rhythm to match his, and the wet warmth had started to build up again, your thighs quivering and mouth spilling out moans and calling out Toji’s name like it was a prayer. “You are doing so well for me love, look at me” he grabbed your chin and while looking at your beautiful tear stained eyes he confessed “I love you so much, you know that right? I am all yours as long as you will have me.” “Tojiii….that’s so unfair..I am gonna cum—, it feels so wet down there-” “I know baby, I know…ughh..come on make a mess for me girl, cum all over my cock baby, take what yours” and you did, you came right along with Toji so hard, a wet mess soaking the sheets all over and clutching onto Toji’s broad shoulders for dear life, kissing his lips with so much fervor “I love you so much Toji, love you-will never let you go”
The next tattoo was definitely going to be a lower back one.
A/N: First time writing smut, I couldn't sit through its editing because I couldn't stop laughing and cringing PLS WTF IS THIS
lemme know how you like it, I tried my best for this one (read some smuts from a whole new perspective just to write one out) I wanna get used to writing smut a little bit more just because I decided to have some in KMIL but yeah.
use protection always.
Header tag and credit to wonderful @kiochisato her headers are aesthetic af!
Take care sweets.
#fluff#romance#wattpad#anime smut#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk toji#jjk x reader#oc#toji smut#jujutsu toji#toji zenin#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu geto#jujutsu nanami#gojo smut#toji x reader#reader insert#toji x you#toji x y/n#smut#jjk x you#soft toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fluff
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WEAVED TOGETHER (SAY IT'S FOREVER)
SUMMARY: After faking your death years ago, Astarion finally finds you in Waterdeep.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 5,128
WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, fingering, orgasm denial, sex used as a manipulation tactic, biting, blood sucking, descriptions of past/current abuse, Ascendent Astarion (feel like I need to tag this just in case), a whole lot of angst.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic gave me so much grief. I really hope my labour translates into something good because man, if it doesn't I might fucking cry. :') Also, fic title is inspired this bop!
MASTERLIST
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You’ve never been particularly keen on parties. Favouring quite possibly anything above the stuffy insides of a ballroom packed with people, it’s a miracle that you haven’t already left Gale’s side for some air. To take even the shortest of moments to allow yourself some alone time.
Feeling the fabric of your dress uncomfortably stick to your skin, you can’t help but squirm at the thought of having to stay any later. Considering you’ve been here for a good few hours already, you’re tempted to ask Gale if maybe now’s the time to part ways.
At this point you’ve been well and truly shown off to the entire party, gawked at by countless of his old academic friends, so surely he wouldn’t mind if you up and left now, right?
Before you can think to ask, he’s already wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a friendly kiss to the cheek. “I really do appreciate you coming,” he tells you, drunkenly swaying as he speaks, letting out a chuckle as you hold him steady. “I would’ve been terribly embarrassed to show up at such a renowned event without a date.”
“So you’ve mentioned.” You shoot him a smug look, watching him roll his eyes and take a sip of wine, debating whether or not to take the glass from him, knowing just how much he’s had.
“I mean it, you’ve been nothing short of wonderful to me in my time of need, so thank you.”
Despite the urge to play down his thanks, to remind him of all the things he’s done for you as of late, you merely take it, offering him a quick you’re welcome in return, knowing just how persistent a drunken Gale can get. How the man hardly pauses to breathe in the midst of a conversation —his endless string of words seeming to lose you almost instantly every time.
Even now, as he begins to go on some long-winded speech about the importance of your friendship, you’re already miles away, longing to drift towards the balcony that rests just across the room, taunting you with its open air and lack of people.
“Anyways, would you care for another drink? I’m in need of one myself thanks to the hole at the bottom of my glass.” Pulling you back in, Gale lets out a joyous laugh, throwing his head back while you merely shake your head.
“I’m uh, no I’m fine Gale. You go ahead and get that drink. I think I’m going to head outside and get some air.”
All he does is give you a tight hug before he leaves, stumbling across the marble floors, bumping into various bodies that suddenly get caught up in his inebriated storm, allowing you a moment to yourself.
You let out a sigh of relief then, turning your attention to your desired spot, gathering up the skirt of your dress so that you can race to its opening, breathing in the scent of fresh air once you step past the threshold.
Somehow once you’re out there, you notice that there isn’t a body in sight. No couples having late-night trysts in the corner or other lonesome individuals stood painfully reflecting on their night. It’s just you by yourself, walking slowly towards the railing, gripping it tight as you allow your mind to settle. To shut down for just a moment after being on for so long.
It feels like forever since you’ve felt this calm. After years of endless journeys —of fighting and running and, as of late, hiding away— you feel that old sense of ease wash over you. Like the waves of Waterdeep’s coast, they gently lap at your feet, rising and falling with each breath you take, watching from afar the bustling city streets below as they begin to die out for the night.
It reminds you of home, a bit. Of the nights you used to spend wandering around Baldur’s Gate, your belly full of the cheapest ale and your mind empty of anything other than the prospect of fun. Back then, you were always full of reckless abandon, constantly getting into trouble only to talk your way out of it not long after and unfortunately, you can’t help but begin to miss it all. The life before the war. Before you were taken in the dead of night and forced into a life you never wanted to live.
Things were simpler then. You didn’t have the scars of clashing swords or the kind of memories that often shook you awake each night, covered in sweat and gasping for air. Devoid of anything truly awful, all you had was the blissful ignorance of a fool. One hellbent on solitude in a world of constant interaction.
Honestly, if it weren’t for the people you’d met along the way you’d be jealous of that life. The one where you were seemingly untouchable, your mind vacant of regret and resentment and—
Before you can continue, you shake those same feelings from your mind, forcing out a heavy breath as you try to maintain the calm. The ocean of waves of Waterdeep pooling between your toes, knowing it’s the only way you’ll move on. If you focus on the positives —if you refuse to look back even for the slightest of moments you’ll forget all about those other lives you lived. All the chapters you spent haphazardly scribbling down, trying desperately to get to this moment.
It seems impossible sometimes, remembering how much shit you had to go through to get here. Not only did you have to survive countless wars involving mind flayers and cultists, but you also had to die to get it. And not die in the metaphorical sense, either. No, you had to literally die —to off yourself in front of countless people and hope to god the Necromancer that you hired actually turned up.
It was a whole process. One that you refuse to think about as you let out a scoff and raise your hands to your head, pressing two fingers to either temple to relieve yourself of the sudden ache that hits.
“Remember what we said about thinking,” you remind yourself then, allowing your eyes to slowly roll back, savouring the alleviated pressure your fingers provide.
Repeating the mantra in your head, you rub your skin and hum aloud, standing for a few more minutes as you listen to the sounds of the bustling party behind you. How the music swells into a crescendo of excitement, various strings and woodwinds all playing in time with one another.
Alongside it, a calming voice echoes over, rising and falling with each passing note that carries through the air to your ears. At first, it’s soft and silky —comforting in a way that wills you to drop your hands and take a few steps towards the entrance of the building, watching as a beautifully freckled bard strums her lute and smiles at the crowd.
Suddenly intrigued, you move to your previous spot inside the ballroom, spotting a rather awestruck Gale who’s holding onto two glasses of red, staring with widened eyes.
“She’s rather pretty.” You grin wickedly and bump your hip against his, hearing him grunt as he blinks and glances at you.
“I’m sorry?”
Taking the glass nearest to you, you then use that same hand to motion to the bard that’s begun to erupt in an upbeat chorus, her voice lowering to a wild growl as she kicks up her feet, dancing around the stage with some of the other musicians. “The bard. Fancy a taste?”
He narrows his eyes at you, a grin of his own peeling across his face as he shakes his head. “I think a conversation would suffice. Least, for starters.”
Biting your bottom lip, you jokingly wrap your arm around his shoulders and shake, pressing your face against his cheek to make obnoxious kissing sounds that leave him laughing and shoving you off.
“Unhand me, you harlot!”
“What? Afraid she’ll see?”
He opens his mouth, almost offended, staring for a moment as you wiggle your brows and take a sip of the wine. “Excuse you, that was my drink.”
“You got yourself two drinks?” You raise your brow.
He scrunches up his face in response before subtly craning his neck towards the other side of the ballroom. “No, it’s for Astarion.”
Your stomach sinks at the mention of his name, filling you with the kind of dread you’ve only felt one other time in your life. All at once it sends you into a panic. Your chest aching and your throat tightening. Even your hands, once carefully wrapped around the vessel of liquid seemingly shifts to a close, resulting in shattering glass that pokes and prods your skin before it falls to the ground.
Crying out in surprise, Gale’s previously mischievous expression quickly fades. Replacing it, an air of worry envelopes the both of you. As he reaches for your arm, allowing his hand to carefully slide down to view your newfound injury, you try to swallow and scan the room, picking apart face after face to no avail, wondering if somehow he’s already found you. If perhaps, instead of where Gale assumes he is he’s instead directly behind you, lingering like the creature of the night he is, waiting to strike.
A shaky breath escapes you then. Peeling away from Gale’s cautious grasp, you take a minute to blink and look him up and down, noticing the growing fear in his eyes. How his lack of understanding only spurs your head to whip behind you, to find more curious eyes staring back.
“Are you alright?”
The question comes from a voice you’ve never heard before. So, instead of entertaining it you merely turn back to Gale, suddenly catching an unfortunate glimpse of pale skin and ivory hair quite a ways back.
Immediately, it strengthens the dread inside, ripping the breath from your lungs as you press a nervous hand to your neck, realizing that somehow it’s already been years since you’ve last seen him. Months and days and hours all collectively bundled together, only to be completely ruined by this one moment.
As you stand there, staring —watching as he does nothing but the same, you feel your mind yelling for you to run. To discard whatever reservations you may have left to push violently through the crowd because, at this rate, it’s the only option left. Having already tried hiding beneath the freezing hands of Death himself, it’s obvious you’ve exhausted all other options. No matter what you do —what you say— nothing will be deemed feasible enough to grant you the escape you so foolishly desire. You’re too vulnerable now, standing there in your ballroom gown, bleeding from your injured hand, trying not to have a full-blown panic attack as he takes that first stride forward.
Matching his step, you feel your body waver backwards, everything suddenly swirling across your vision as Gale reaches out to grab your arm, asking if you’re okay.
“I’m aware the breakup wasn’t amicable but maybe if you two just talk?” he suggests, his voice bouncing off your ears like a war drum, reminding you that Sufferance is coming. And that he’s dressed in his fanciest suit to mark the occasion, practically gliding through the room with knitted brows and frowning lips, pushing aside everybody who gets in his way.
“Gale, we —I need to go.”
Suddenly your palm, still filled with glass pushes against his robes, staining the fabric as your blood begins to drip, reminding you of his hunger —of the way he used to feed. How he took and took, ignoring your starvation for something other than submission. Refusing to acknowledge the withering of your soul each day you spent wrapped around his pretty little fingers.
As he shoves a woman to the ground, you can feel the emptiness within your stomach start to grow at the memory. The shuddering of your limbs driving Gale to look behind him, noticing the wild look in Astarion’s eyes as the crowd begins to part in fear, watching as he bares his teeth.
It’s a look that makes you instantly flinch. Closing your eyes, your shoulders rise to touch your ears in anticipation. Waiting for the moment to strike, you all but freeze in place, holding your breath as the steps of his boots draw near, reverberating through the air until they suddenly stop.
In fact, everything stops. The sound of him —the sound of the party. All of it falls onto deaf ears, creating a new fear that has you so terrified you merely stand in place until you eventually hear the clapping sound of a hand on someone’s back, followed by the swirling of your head again, forcing your eyes to jolt open.
“Oh, hello darling, didn’t see you there.”
Once again trying to breathe, you glance between the two men in confusion, watching as they share a lengthy embrace before Astarion’s pushing himself onto you. Gentler than expected, his arms slowly wrap around your shoulders as he does it, pulling you to his chest in a way that feels both frightening and familiar. A mix of home and hell encased around your nervous frame as he lowers his head to yours.
In response, you reluctantly raise your hands and place them on his back, applying a bit of pressure at the centre as you mutter out a muddled hi, looking to see that the commotion he so violently caused before seems to have evaporated into thin air.
“You’re awfully far from home, aren’t you?” His voice is barely above a whisper, ghosting against the shell of your ear as you force out a shaky breath.
“So are you.”
“I wonder why that is.”
You hum in response. Using the short moment of silence that’s granted to stare. To watch the way he looks you up and down, the edges of his lips pulling into a smirk of amusement.
It’s obvious then that he’s thinking of playing tricks. Of taunting and teasing —using all the usual charming tactics before he decides it’s worth it to raise a little hell.
Because of this, you merely swallow hard and spare Gale a glance, watching him magic away the bloodstain on his robes before looking back towards the stage.
“How did you find me?”
Astarion reaches for your chin. Taking hold of it with his thumb and forefinger, he then waits patiently for you to share his gaze, looking your face up and down until he can finally see the fear in your eyes. “Does it really matter?”
It does, but you know he won’t tell you so you move on to another question. “Why are you here then?”
Immediately he scoffs, the smirk on his face falling for a split second. “Do you really have to ask?” he says, letting his thumb run across the length of your bottom lip. “Obviously, I’ve come to enjoy a spot of red with old friends.”
“Hm.”
“Among other things, of course.”
“Like?”
“Reclaiming my dead consort, for one.”
“And two?”
He shrugs his shoulders as he taps your chin. “Not sure. Depends on how the night goes.”
You’re not sure what to say then. Growing increasingly lost to the feeling of his hands and voice —remembering all the moments shared when it was just him and you and the power imbalance of ascension hadn’t yet existed— all you can do is pull him in a bit tighter.
Knowing that Gale is probably growing more curious by the second, you suddenly feel a sense of protection. An urge to get rid of him so that he’s no longer at risk.
Well aware of the power Astarion now holds within his grasp, you know it’s hardly worth it to try and get him involved anyway, especially considering how much alcohol he’s consumed. The poor man couldn’t be helpful even if he tried, so instead of asking you merely hold on. Tightening your grip as the other parts of you desperately try to rationalize just how much you’ve missed this. How even after years spent fleeing his hold —years of constant moving and hiding and watching your back for signs of his presence— his touch is still the only thing that makes you feel safe.
Which is a fact that makes you sick to your stomach, discovering that, regardless of being able to name a million reasons why you should be fleeing rather than falling, suddenly you’re able to name just as much for why you’d stay. Why you’d more than willingly follow his footsteps if he asked.
And not because you fear him, no. Despite having just been found out —despite that growing uncertainty of how you’ll inevitably be taken back— it’s as if your mind resets on impact. As he holds you close, speaking in obvious threats to your safety if you don’t listen, you can feel the defiance in you quickly dwindle. Evaporating into thin air as he leans away to give Gale an overly friendly smack to the shoulder.
“Gale, darling, you wouldn’t mind giving us a bit of privacy would you? Seems we have much to discuss.”
The hold he has on you tightens as he speaks, reminding you that such a conversation is anything but optional as Gale almost immediately buggers off, drunkenly mumbling something about drinks and fun before Astarion’s whisking you away.
Leading you through a crowd of bodies, you quickly find your hand gripping his shoulder absentmindedly. All splayed out, your fingers nervously caress the fabric of his doublet, feeling the texture shift beneath your skin, reminding you that he’s here. That’s he’s present and real and not just some illusion conjured up to scare you into coming back.
“Your entrance back there was…”
You’re not sure what to say anymore. Not with the underlying rage you can feel radiating off of him. Given the fact that it’s been so long, you’ve almost forgotten how to please him. To make his mind ease into those old spaces of pity where sometimes he’d grant you reprieve amongst the punishment.
Knowing this, he looks at you with feigned innocence, taunting you with his still raised lip as though he’s having fun despite slowly inching towards the blowout. “Did you like it? I figured, it’s been so long since I’ve last toyed with that little mind of yours, best to give it a proper show.”
He wipes his thumb across your forehead and watches you frown; your head suddenly darting back only to be ripped forward when that same hand tightens around your throat.
All at once the action leaves you gasping for air. As his thumb presses down on the centre of your neck, applying just enough pressure to pull from you a nervous wheeze as the two of you stop, he can’t help but lower his face to yours.
“I’d consider yourself lucky that the temperament I showed back there was merely an illusion,” he tells you, pressing his forehead to yours.
Swallowing to no avail, you feel the lump in your throat become pressurized by the growing frustrations in his hand. Prompting you to panic, another airless sound emits from your lips as your eyes begin to dart around, looking at all the curious eyes that seemingly look away the second you make contact.
You realize then that nobody cares. Whether it’s due to the intimidating presence he exudes or the potential word of mouth of his ascendance circulating the room, you don’t care, knowing it doesn’t really matter anyway. He’s untouchable regardless. A force so unmovable that all you can do is pray that he’s merciless.
As he grips your throat amongst a sea of avoidant faces, unwavering in his efforts to patronize your past behaviours, you know then that this marks the end of your freedom. That from this moment on his control over you has been reenacted without discussion.
“Now, are we going to obey and have a nice evening or are we going to do something we might regret?”
Looking back at him, all you can do is nod, feeling that alleviation slowly come. Granting you the chance to breathe again, you cough quietly and reach for your throat, rubbing the pain away as you watch his previously aggressive demeanour fall into amusement, once again stringing you along.
At which point you effectively zone out. Still feeling his hand flush against the small of your back, it’s as if suddenly your mind becomes null, avoiding all thoughts as he leads you through the main entry of the ballroom, turning down a seemingly endless stream of corridors until you find yourself face to face with an ornate door.
Once there, he peels away from your frame and begins to pick the lock, wickedly grinning at you once that familiar click rings out, reminding you of the old him. Of how he was before the ritual, all doe-eyed and excited to experience the world and all its gifts.
It makes your lip pull between your teeth nervously, seeing him unbend the length of his back to look at you. To smirk in a way that feels so real and him that you almost forget that he’s changed. That, instead of picking the lock to loot the room and make charming little jokes at your expense, he’s doing it so he can get you alone. So that he can do unspeakable things the old Astarion would never think to do.
“Shall we?”
His voice rings out like a request even though you know deep down it’s a command, secretly telling you to hurry up. So, doing just that, you brush past him without so much as a glance, taking in the endless wall of books that greets you as you enter, opening your mouth in slight awe until the door closes behind you.
Turning back, you’re then given all but a second before he’s on you. Grabbing you with such violent desperation, a hand snakes around your waist, claiming you like he used to do when you were still devoted to being his. When this idea of free will was nothing more than a passing thought that barely grazed the surface.
Back when he was still yours.
Immediately, the familiarity of it wreaks havoc on your chest. Your heart, once filled with longing and fear now radiates nothing but need. Demanding that old sensation of flesh brushing against flesh as his other hand takes hold of the base of your neck.
The second you feel it, all thoughts are lost. Every previous reservation you once had melting into nothing against the hot feeling of your mouth pushing against his, prying open both lips to taste his tongue. To remind yourself of what it felt like to be wanted in the simplest sense.
Deepening the kiss, he moans and somehow pulls you closer, forcing your chests together as he maneuvers you backwards, stumbling over a raised edge of a rug before practically tossing you onto the floor.
“Years,” he groans then, pulling away to stare down at you with knitted brows and swollen lips, distracting you with that pretty face as he begins to rip the bodice of your dress. “I’ve spent years without this flesh —without this blood.”
His fingers pry at the fabric, peeling back the only layer you have to hide behind until you’re left exposed from the waist up, anxiously breathing at the sight of his hunger.
A sight that leaves you helpless beneath his grasp as he quickly leans forward, palming one breast while holding your face with the other. Beneath him, all you’re able to do is take each touch as it comes, savouring the uncharacteristic softness as his thumb brushes against your nipple, teasing it with gentle swipes as he goes in for another kiss.
Similar to his hands, there’s a strange feeling that comes along with it. As he nibbles your bottom lip, choosing to give you control, you know that something’s off. That instead of displaying the softest version of him you’ve felt in years, he should be punishing you with reckless brutality. Taking what’s rightfully his without so much as a thought.
Because of this, you reluctantly pull away, gasping for air as he hovers above you, still stroking your chest and face.
“Why are you doing this?”
Normally, such a question would result in some sort of punishment. A night of solitary confinement. Perhaps the silent treatment for up to a week.
Back before you realized just how fucked up everything had gotten he used to isolate you for things as simple as this. Forcing everyone around to ignore your every waking move, he found that loneliness was the key to your obedience. The only way to control whatever reckless thoughts entered your mind.
So, it’s surprising when he answers —when he lowers his mouth to give your lips one final kiss before flashing that smirk. “What do you mean?”
You raise your brow and move to sit up, leaning against your elbows as your face contorts in confusion. “Why are you acting like him?”
“You mean me?”
You open your mouth to respond —to fight against his words, knowing now more than ever that you should. Considering the door’s already open for conversation, you might as well get all your thoughts out while you’re able. Because after this it’s apparent, you’ll be stuck all over again, wasting away at the foot of a God who’s anything but forgiving.
“You aren’t punishing me.”
“I’m not.”
“Why?”
His hand explores your face, swiping across skin that hasn’t felt a single touch since your departure. “There’s always time for punishment —for penance,” he tells you, tracing your features with featherlight strokes that have you begging for more as you push yourself upward. “Now that I have you again, there’s far more important things I want before I subject you to what you deserve.”
“Which is?”
He pauses for a while, continuing his ministrations in a way that has you forgetting why you left in the first place. Why, instead of subjecting yourself to the torment of his hand to feel the grace that often coincides, you decided to give it all up.
“I haven’t quite decided yet.”
It’s a simple statement, yet it holds far too much weight against your ears. As he speaks, your heart flutters in your chest nervously, reminding you that this thing between you is nothing more than an imbalance. A tipping scale so unevenly distributed that you’ve lost all hope for rebalance.
Because of this, you don’t fight him when he inevitably leans forward. Nor when he presses a slightly rougher kiss to your lips, biting down with a newfound vigour that splits your lip in half. Feeling the blood pool out, you hardly react when Astarion’s lips begin to suckle the wound, lapping up whatever spills through as he rips away the rest of your clothes, tossing it all aside.
Suddenly cold, you find your arms rising to hold him all over again. Wanting to feel the fabric of his clothes pressing against your bare skin, you grip him tight and groan, relishing in this moment. Enjoying the familiarity of it as something warm blooms across your aching core, fuelling the need for your hips to slightly buck up, making him laugh.
Light and airy, the sound filters through your mouth like smoke, taking hold of your lungs in a way that leaves you addicted. Wanting to chase that past feeling, your hands swiftly lower to his waist, your fingers tucking themselves under his clothes to touch the texture of his scar —to feel the old him amongst all the new.
Realizing this, his movements become suddenly erratic. Forcing himself up with a grin, he then begins to quickly trail down your body, pressing his mouth to every exposed bit within his sightline, making sure to glance up at your heavy eyes and parted lips along the way.
“Mm, still as desperate as ever, my little consort,” he tuts.
Between the kisses he places to your freshly bruised flesh, he releases another laugh that lingers in your mind, further reminding you of him. Of the man you fell in love with. Of the man who swiftly slips between your thighs with little notice, raising the backs to rest against his shoulders.
A sound of shock escapes your lips at the new position, craning your neck to watch him latch onto your inner thigh, suckling the plush through such a guttural moan that it forces your jaw to drop.
“Fucking hell,” you mumble then, prompting his lips to curl into a grin before he’s biting your thigh, forcing his teeth through the tender flesh before you can even think to object.
It feels better than you remember. Almost like a hot flash of pleasure before that familiar coldness kicks in, numbing the space that he suckles with haste. As his lips hollow out to drink whatever he can get, you feel his hand slip against your entrance, knuckles grazing the outer folds of your sex just right.
Bucking your hips again, you feel his movements become one. Each time his tongue licks up, his fingers raise to the top of your cunt, flowing back down in such delicious unison you’re already ready to submit. To surrender yourself to whatever pleasures might await through the pain of your punishment.
So much so that you’re already begging for it. Through gasps that barely hit his ears, your voice whines for more. For more pressure or movement or frankly, whatever the hell he’s willing to give despite how undeserving you are.
“Please, Astarion.”
The moment he hears that little please he’s pulling away, grinning at you with teeth and tongue all covered in your blood.
“I’m sorry, you want me to please you?”
He gently pushes two fingers into your entrance, curling the ends ever so slightly while keeping them still, watching as you press your lips together, unable to speak.
“To pleasure you?”
Slowly, he angles his head to suck your thigh again, dragging a fresh wave of blood through his hungry lips before shifting towards your cunt and licking a tentative strip directly above his fingers.
“To taste you, perhaps?”
His voice is low, droning on in that teasing way that has you looking down annoyed, taking in the way he goes back and forth, debating whether or not to relent. To give in to the indulgence, watching you squirm beneath him. Forcing you to stir in your own prolonged pleasure until he all but sits back up, digging his fingers into the holes in your thigh, telling you you’ll get what you deserve once you’ve come back home.
-
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#weaved together (say it's forever)#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion fan fic#astarion x female reader#astarion x reader#astarion x you#ascended astarion#summer writes
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Prized Possession
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k
𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: fluff!! littlest hint of spice. like a little angst too bc they have a brief fight??? idk
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:
You lose something and Azriel gets it back for you.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:
im too soft for this pls its too much. i almost made this a smut but i am wholesome and refuse to listen to the little devil on my shoulder. also this is unedited
･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･
ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.
･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･
The ground shook as the air cleaved and two bodies fell to the floor from the mass of shadow above. A wave of cold river water surged out, slickening the marble tile with a slight greenish tinge.
You were retching up water on your hands and knees, drenched hair plastered to your face and your neck. A large slice of skin was exposed diagonally across your collar from where the siren had scratched you, a red ring around your wrist quickly turning purple from where it had grabbed you and dragged you under. That was all before Azriel had dove in from the sky, as graceful and lethal as a bullet with his wings tucked tight and limbs flush to his sides. In but a flash of blinding, brilliant blue did he slay the faerie, the life just starting to leave its gaze before firm hands had snatched you and you’d slipped away into the shadows.
Now the shadowsinger was coughing violently, all the while glaring at you as he braced his scarred hands on his knees, heaved over. His large, dark wings were dripping, a mist showering over you as he shook them free of moisture. You could feel his stony stare fixed on you as the puddle on the floor gradually grew, both your bodies dripping.
The moment you regained some semblance of control you were up on your feet and jabbing a finger into the male’s broad chest, a vicious growl emitting from your mouth and your eyes ablaze.
“What the hell is your problem?!”
He had the audacity to look shocked by your outrage, a dark brow scrunching and lips pulling back to snarl something back at you but you were quicker than him.
“I had it, Azriel, what the fuck?”
“The only thing you had was a watery grave,” he instantly barked back, now standing upright so he loomed over you as usual.
Somehow he looked even more devastating fully drenched, his clothes sticking to his lean frame, revealing his rippling muscles to you with every movement. His dark locks were pitch black and curling at the tips, heavy, shiny droplets collecting at the very ends. Hazel was lit aglow beneath that darkness, his gaze lit with some unknown wrath that you didn’t quite know how to place.
It was just plain unfair how good he looked after nearly drowning.
“Fuck you,” you scoffed, even if he was right. The ache in your lungs remained from your lack of breath, the creature having dragged you underwater so deep that your ears nearly popped with the pressure.
You turned away from him as your fingers ran over your chest, toward the spot that your necklace usually laid upon. But now there was only a shallow slice where the siren had swiped it from you, and the tattered edges of your top. Tears welled in your eyes at the barren expanse of skin you felt, but you refused to let them fall in front of the shadowsinger, refused to let your anger turn to sorrow before you were in the privacy of your own room.
“I think gratitude would be more appropriate,” Azriel spoke harshly, still glowering from his position behind you. “You know, for saving your life?”
You whirled around, fists clenched at your hips. “Would you just shut up!” your hiss morphed into a gasp as you trembled with the effort of curbing the sob that tried to escape.
The haughty look instantly dropped from Azriel’s face, his eyes flicking over every inch of you to assess you for any sign of physical damage. When all he came up with was the cut on your collar and the bruise around your wrist, his brow furrowed.
You were shaking, frustration peaking as you ran your fingers through your sopping hair, starting to pace before the male. “I had it, it was right there…” you muttered to yourself, quickly swiping away a rogue tear, praying he hadn’t seen it.
The shadowsinger remained rooted where he stood, watching your display of upset with quiet intensity. After you had paced for a minute, he finally asked, “You had… what?”
His voice was deep as it sliced the silence in the room. The chill of his chambers was now starting to leech into your bones, your arms crossing over your soaked midsection.
You pinched the spot between your brow and nose bridge, willing any nearly-boiling emotions to relax to a simmer, at least while you were still in front of your long-time crush. “Just forget about it…”
You weren’t looking at him so you didn’t see the way his plush lips pursed.
“Forget about what?” he pressed. His persistence forced an annoyed sigh from you, and you shot him a quick glare before continuing your pacing.
“It’s nothing,” you said, trying to shut him down again. You didn’t know why enlightening him of the true reason you were so upset seemed somehow embarrassing. Maybe it was because the male had never shown profound emotion to you and therefore cueing him in on your own felt… too intimate.
But Azriel wasn’t having it.
“If it’s really nothing—”
“You wouldn’t get it.”
“Try me.”
You turned again, facing the male before you and gauging his stance. With one look you knew he was not dropping it. Any excuses you would attempt would be futile.
“It took… my necklace.”
You held your breath, waiting for him to explode, for him to belittle you and call you stupid and materialistic and any other insult he could produce. But all he did was stand there, and look at you.
Eventually, he said, “So you’re telling me that you nearly drowned… for some jewelry?”
Your eyes fell from his to the floor. You knew he wouldn’t understand.
“Risking your life for such a thing is extremely reckless and I don’t care to entertain it,” he stated, callous.
“It’s not just some jewelry!” you quipped, standing your ground. You didn’t care if it made you look weak, stupid. Yes, you thought he was cute and funny and usually kind, but this meant a lot to you and you were going to hold your own.
Azriel sighed, stepping closer to you. “I don’t think you understand the value of your life, or the importance of your existence in others’.”
You brushed off whatever that meant.
“It’s the only thing I have left from my mother,” you finally revealed, the words fading softer toward the end. You regretted it immediately, but you knew from the emotion that flashed in his eyes that he had heard it, and there was no taking it back now.
You had never mentioned her to him before, only the fact that she was dead and had been for a long time. And Azriel hadn’t pushed, so you hadn’t felt the desire to give any further detail.
But now he was looking at you with some sentiment you couldn’t quite place. It seemed like… maybe it was… empathy.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”
You were surprised by his immediate apology, hadn’t expected it. A somber smile graced your lips and you nodded, gaze drifting down to your feet again, turning to head back to your room to wallow in self-pity. “It’s okay, it’s just a necklace.”
Three steps into your retreat Azriel cleared his throat.
When you turned to look at him he was still standing there, but he now had a little smirk on his lips as he held out a clenched fist. He released his grip and out dropped a small, silver-laced heart pendant, the chain bouncing from its coil around his fingers.
“You mean this necklace?”
Your breath was genuinely sucked out from your lungs, your eyes tearing up as you blinked furiously, unsure if he was really holding your most prized possession.
“Az,” you blubbered, choked up and your lip quivering. “That’s…” Two slow steps and then you were flying into his arms, your limbs wrapping around his torso as you clung to him and laughed.
Azriel stumbled back just slightly, unprepared for your abrupt launch into his embrace. But he quickly recovered, his free arm wrapping around you so your bottom was secured by his elbow, his hand at your waist. He chuckled as you squeezed him, fingers reaching out to stroke the pendant that now lay in his open palm, to make sure it was really here and you hadn’t lost it. Your longtime crush had saved you and somehow managed to sneakily grab your necklace at the same time.
“Thank you,” you sniffed, tears welling up with relief, “thank you, thank you so much, thank you Az.” You whispered it over and over, tucking your face in against his neck, breathing in that soothing cool cedar scent you loved so much.
The shadowsinger was blushing with your proximity and your praise, near giddy from your outright gratefulness. He allowed himself to nuzzle your ear just once, not wanting to toe the line. “Of course, sweetheart… anything for you.”
You sat back so you could look at him, your beaming smile reaching your eyes. Azriel couldn’t help but grin back at you.
“I can’t believe you got it! You’re the best, Az!” you cheered, fingers now resting on his palm, pleased to find the necklace was indeed there and not lost at the bottom of the river.
The Illyrian was basically looking at you with heart-eyes now, not used to such overt flattery. You wiggled in his grasp, totally overjoyed. The display of your content was making his heart feel funny, his icy exterior completely melting for you.
“I’m so happy right now, I could just—”
You planted your mouth on his, hands coming to cup his strong jaw and hold his face flush to yours.
Azriel went stiff, his eyes widening as his grip on you became steel. But you were undeterred, pulling back to plant a few more swift, equally-firm kisses on his lips and then across his hot cheeks and nose.
When you pulled back, Azriel was gaping at you, lips now parted and his cheeks and the tips of his ears a soft, warm pink. Your smile faded as you took in his expression, settling into the knowledge that you’d just assaulted him with a barrage of kisses.
“Shit— I— I’m sorry Az,” you laughed, embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck. “I just— got a bit excited, I guess.”
You shifted so he would let you down but he refused to budge, arm taut around you. His wings were held high and tight behind him, still buffering as he tried to process what you had just done.
Your cheeks were becoming the same shade as his now, and you swallowed, uncomfortable under his intense stare. You weren’t accustomed to being able to look him head-on like this; he usually towered over you. He was so handsome up close, it made your heart drop into your stomach at the thought that you had just kissed him. About ten times, give or take.
It seemed like an eternity had passed before the shadowsinger finally blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes falling to linger on your lips. You felt aflame as you watched his tongue dart out, tasting the spot your lips had just claimed. “That’s alright,” he murmured, the hand that was holding the necklace coming to tuck your wet hair behind your ear, fingertips gliding down your jaw, leaving you wanting more. “Seems like a worthy reward for returning your most prized possession to you.”
Then he was setting you down, your ankles suddenly weak as your feet touched the ground.
“Allow me,” he said and gently placed his hand on your hip, turning you away from him.
You held your breath as the rough pads of his fingers coasted up your shoulder, the familiar weight of your mother’s pendant heavy against your rapidly-beating chest while he secured the clasp. You tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t happening, your body leaning back against him on its own.
Azriel hissed lowly, firm hands grasping the back of your forearms and holding you out, far from where your back had grazed him. “Careful— you’re not the only one excited here.”
Your face burned and your core stirred at the same time.
“Sorry…” you whispered meekly.
He sighed a soft laugh, one hand rubbing your arm. “It’s alright. You go and run a hot bath, you’re drenched and I can hear your teeth rattling from here.”
You turned and smiled smally, grateful he was offering you an escape. You took extra care in keeping your eyes locked with his, no matter how bad you wanted to look down and see just how excited he was. “Thank you again, Az. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
And with that, you slipped from his chambers, the sound of your wet feet pattering down the hallway.
Azriel watched the spot where you had disappeared around his door, his shadows now surging out and dancing around him with glee, flickering across his mouth to get a taste of you. He didn’t care that he was still dripping wet as he flopped back onto his bed, his fingers coming to trace his lips. He recalled how your mouth felt on him, closing his eyes as he tried to preserve the feeling as best he could.
“No sweetheart,” he spoke to no one in particular, a confession only the stars in the sky would hear, “you’ve no idea how much you mean to me.”
･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･
#azriel x reader#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar fanfiction#azriel x you#azriel fluff#azriel fanfic#acotar fluff#acotar fic#azriel fic#angelshadowsinger#my work
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Kento Nanami and his wife losing their unborn child in Shibuya (major tw!)
Pairing: husband!Nanami x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,5k
Synopsis: It seemed like a normal evening when you passed out on the couch, not aware of Haruta sneaking into your shared apartment until he pierces his blade through your pregnant stomach. How will your husband react, finding out what happened to you?
Warning: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING!, if you feel uncomfortable with child loss or it triggers you in some way, please don't read this, heavy violence, heaviest angst but comfort (bc Nanami is the best husband ever), didn't proofread this because it hurts my soul, please note that I never experienced something like that and wrote it out of stories from family and it might be bad
This is like the bad ending to Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife. You can find it here
Thank you @wifenanami for breaking our heart (I love your requests babe) 😭
Your mind is a blur when you open your aching lids against a harsh light. Damn, everything hurts, you feel like someone has stabbed you over and over again. Your stomach aches so bad…why? The last thing you remember is…
A toe-curling scream coming out of your own mouth. Hands that keep you from falling to the ground. Darkness, unimaginable agony, grief. But why? What happened? Out of instinct, your hands wander to your belly. Weren’t you at home passed out on the couch with your heavy belly laying on the side, waiting for your husband to come back to you?
You were, but there’s something else…
Suddenly, a wave of memories washes over you, memories that make your whole body tremble with overflooding emotions.
“I-I can’t feel her anymore. Shoko, I can’t feel her, she isn’t moving!”, you cry on top of your lungs, hands roaming around your blood-soaked stomach in a desperate attempt to find a heartbeat.
You weren’t fast enough. The minute that blond-haired man with the ugly ponytail stumbled into your apartment and shot a sword directly through your belly, you were lost at words, lost at actions, lost at control. As if frozen in place, you watched as he pierced through you over and over again, your blood spilling onto the cold marble floor, discolouring everything in your crimson blood within seconds.
And hers. Your precious daughter. It was only a matter of time said Shoko the other day. A matter of time until you’d be finally able to hold her in your arms, a matter of time to see your husband putting her to sleep.
But time ran out for both of you.
“Send my best wishes to your husband! Well, you probably can’t do that anymore though…See ya!”
You can’t remember what happened next. How did you even manage to let Shoko know that you’re injured? It doesn’t matter anyway. The look of pure horror on her face was enough for you to know that it’s too late.
“Y-you…you need to save her”, you hush, tears now taking your sight completely.
You are nothing but weak. Too weak to defend yourself, too fucking weak to even move an inch when someone attacks you.
Too weak to save the life of your daughter.
Your daughter…
“Tell me she’s okay”, you mumble into the light above you over and over like a prayer.
Maybe all of this was nothing but a bad dream. Maybe Shoko was really able to use her reversed technique on both you and your precious daughter. Maybe she’s laying in her father’s arms right now, safe and sound. Her father…where is your husband? Is he alright?
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I tried everything I could but…I couldn’t save her, she was already dead when I arrived…”
“No”, you interrupt her immediately.
You hold your breath. How often did you imagine what she might look like? Your little angel. Oh, you were so excited when you found out you’re expecting your first child back then, Kento was so overwhelmed that he even cried. She was the blessing in a world full of curses, your little ray on sunshine in the dark.
She…She can be dead…
“You were there, right? You saved both of us, right?”
Shoko leans down towards you. And for the first time since knowing her, you see her cry. Not only a single tear runs down her face, but a never-ending waterfall while she holds onto your shaky hand.
You feel numb, want to laugh and cry at the same time, want to scream and to stay silent all at once. This…This can’t be reality. This isn’t how it’s supposed to turn out. You’ve read enough books to know how happy endings work, that the people who deserve it will always find happiness.
“My darling.”
His voice catches you off guard, makes your glossy eyes widen and heartbeat pick up. This is him, without any doubt. Your husband is here.
Gently, he grabs your other hand and leans forwards.
Your breath hitches in an instant.
“Kento…”
Half of his body is burned, bruises cover his gorgeous face. But the worst thing is the unwavering sadness that gleams in his orbs. It hits you like a wall.
The things you saw, Shoko’s words.
Everything is true.
You lost your child at Shibuya.
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). Everything is my fault. I should have saved you, I should have stayed with you, I should have killed him…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…”
And then he breaks down on the side of the bed you’re laying in, head pressed against the soft mattress while crying so horribly that you feel like dying right on the spot.
This, everything that happened…Everything is only your fault. You should have listened when he instructed you to stay at Jujutsu High, you should have locked the door like he always said. You are not only responsible for getting hurt, but also for losing the way too young life of your unborn daughter.
She had her whole life ahead of her. Her first steps, her first time saying “dada”, your precious husband buying her clothes, bringing her to school on her first day, comforting her when he first boy breaks her heart only to scare this poor boy to death…
You didn’t only kill her, but her whole future. And Kento’s on top.
“How are you feeling, love? Are you still in pain?”
You don’t even dare to look at him, numb eyes just staring at the ceiling. No, you don’t deserve this man kneeling in front of you, you don’t deserve him even talking to you.
“You should leave.”
Thick silence hangs in the air, Kento’s eyes darted towards you in sheer disbelief. Why would you ever suggest something like that? When he woke up, the first thing on his mind was you. When Shoko told him what happened, that your daughter died and she isn’t sure if you’ll make it, it felt as if a part of himself is vanishing. You, the love of his life, the baby both of you waited for…
“I will never leave your side, love. Not when we both need each other more than ever”, he replies as calmly as possible.
“Why would you say that when I’m the one who killed your daughter?”
Your words hit him with full force, tear the ground from under his feet. It already hurts enough to know you lost your little angel in than senseless battle to that disgusting creature. But hearing that you make yourself responsible for what happened, that you think he doesn’t want to be with you anymore…
“Look at me.”
Carefully, he cups your cheek with his large hand, forcing you to return his gaze. The empty look in your eyes makes him tear up all over again.
This is so unfair, so unbelievable cruel. Isn’t it enough that you’ve lost your child? Why are you plaguing your mind with blaming yourself for that tragedy, why are you even thinking he’ll leave you?
“Let me tell you from the bottom of my heart that I love you more than ever. Let me promise you that I’ll never leave your side, no matter how numb you feel, no matter how often the pain gets overwhelming. Let me tell you that we’ll get through this together. Because you are my wife, (y/n). And even though it rips me apart to know that we’ve lost our daughter to this fucker, I will always be thankful that you survived. You did so well. I’m beyond proud that you’ve managed to call Shoko, that you pushed through and fought for your life. I will NEVER blame you for what happened at Shibuya. And I will love you through everything.”
“Kento…I miss her so much”, you breathe against his hand with so much grief in your voice that it takes him all his strength so not break down all over again.
“I miss her too, darling. But she’s always with us, she’ll never leave our side”, he whispers gently.
“I don’t deserve you…You, you are injured yourself. What happened to you?”
“Nothing but a few scratches. Let me stay by your side, okay? I never want to leave you alone again, (y/n).”
You can’t contain yourself any longer, it seems like the world around you collapses as you let yourself fall into your husband’s arms. Everything is too much, all the grief, all the sadness seems to swallow you whole. But oh does it feel good to lay against his chest, to feel his fingertips stroke your hair gently.
“I will always stay by your side. And so does our little angel.”
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopstick @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345
@polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp@wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#nanami fanfic#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#husband nanami#nanami x you#nanami fluff#nanami hurt#jjk hurt/comfort#jjk hurt#jujutsu kaisen shibuya arc#shibuya#jjk shibuya incident#jjk shibuya arc#shibuya incident#jjk kento nanami#kento x reader#kento x y/n#jjk kento#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanamin#nanami my beloved
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Eddie had lost a lot of blood. He blinked rapidly at the man carrying him out of hell. This was straight out of a romance novel. Steve even looked like a goddamn prince. It wasn't fair. Wait. . .does this mean that Eddie's a princess?
"I'm not a princess," Eddie slurred.
"Okay," Steve said, looking at him strangely.
"If I'm alive because of you, ser Stevie, I'll tattoo your name on my chest," Eddie said, and then he promptly passed out.
He made good on his promise after he healed up. He tattooed Steve’s name right above his nipple. Of course, he neglected to tell anyone about it, and he didn't think about it when he spilled soda on his shirt while he was hanging out with Steve at his house.
"Oh fuck!"
"Hey, it's alright. Pop it off, I'll put it in the wash and you can wear one of my shirts," Steve said.
"Not a polo!" Eddie said as he whipped off his shirt, and he handed it to him. "What?"
Steve stared at Eddie's chest, his mouth open in a perfectly plump oval shape.
"You have my name tattooed on your chest," Steve pointed out, his cheeks red.
"Oh, yeah, that," Eddie said and winced when Steve reached a hand out.
He was surprised when Steve gently cupped his tit, brushing a thumb over the tattoo. His thumb was also brushing over his nipple, causing Eddie to suck in a breath. Eddie bit his lip, smiling at the touched look on Steve’s face. His perfect lips stretched into a smile. It wasn't Steve. Above the his nipple was the name Stevie.
"Why does it have a heart, Eddie?" Steve said, looking at him with a soft look.
"Because I - I - ," Eddie stuttered.
Steve was no longer rubbing the tattoo with his thumb. He was now pressing his thumb directly into his nipple now, putting pressure on it the longer Eddie didn't talk.
"Fuck! It's because I heart you, Steve," Eddie said, his face flushed.
"Now, was that so hard?" Steve asked, and Eddie cursed at him as Steve laughed. "I heart you too, Eddie."
Steve cupped the back of his neck and kissed him. Eddie kissed him back eagerly, and just as he did that, Steve broke the kiss.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Steve asked.
"That we're boyfriends?" Eddie asked.
"Well, yes, but this means that I need to get a tattoo now, too," Steve said.
Steve was true to his word and let Eddie watch as they tattooed his name on his chest. When they got back to Steve’s house, Eddie asked his burning question.
"So. . .why a crown above the I?" Eddie asked.
"Because. . .you're my princess," Steve said with an amused smirk.
"I was suffering from blood loss, Steven!" Eddie exclaimed. "I am NOT a princess!"
"You're certainly acting like one," Steve said. "A very pouty princess."
Eddie straddled his waist and pushed his shoulders back.
"Am I going to have to punish you, big boy?" Eddie asked.
"Oh yeah. . .princess," Steve laughed, and Eddie growled.
A few weeks later, they announced their relationship to the group at a pool party Steve threw. They walked around without their shirts, hoping someone would notice. Of course, it was Dustin who noticed first.
"Hey, did you guys get girlfriends with the same names as each other?" Dustin asked with a grin. "That's hilarious."
"Oh my God. How can you be so smart and so dumb at the same time?" Max asked.
"You know, getting your girlfriend's name tattooed on your chest is pretty permanent. You must be serious," Dustin said.
"Someone, please hit this idiot," Erica said. "Shake his marbles lose. Do something."
"Yeah, It's about as permanent as the bat bites I share with my girl," Eddie said, throwing his arm around Steve’s shoulder and leaning his head against Steve’s.
"Wow, your girlfriend was bitten by bats?" Dustin asked.
"Dustin!" Mike yelled. "Our dungeon master is fucking our babysitter!"
"Yes! I know that, Michael! I wasn't sure if they wanted us to know or not," Dustin snapped. "I was giving them an opportunity to say it themselves."
"I'm pretty sure they were saying it with their tits!" Mike yelled.
"Don't talk about their tits!"
Meanwhile, Steve and Eddie had relaxed into a couple of lawn chairs.
"Should we let them go on, or should we stop them?" Eddie asked.
"Well, I figured if we let them go, they'll tire themselves out, then we don't have to fight them later when we're getting them to go to sleep," Steve said.
"Sounds like a plan," Eddie laughed and clinked his beer with Steve’s. "We're great 'dads'."
They laughed as they watched their 'kids' bicker.
#stranger things#eddie munson#stranger things s4#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fan fiction#a little bit of a crack fic
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TokRev x Insecure!Reader
♡ SFW->NSFW, fem reader, fluff, praise, reader is nervous of intimacy because of her body, oral->fem receiving, mirror sex, riding, breeding kink ♡
Characters: Baji, Kakucho, Takemichi, Sanzu
note: requested by @my-13-reason-why 🩵
edit: added Sanzu
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Baji
🔥 Laughs when you tell him you're insecure about your body because HOW??? WHY???
🔥 In his opinion (which is the right opinion) you're the most beautiful woman he's ever met and some silly insecurities aren't gonna stop him from devouring you
🔥 Eats you out extra slow so he can fully appreciate your body
"You should really see yourself right now cutie, look so fucking perfect ♡"
Kakucho
🩷 Doesn't initiate anything because he's not in any rush, he can wait as long as you need
🩷 When he finds out that you've been hesitant to do stuff with him because of your body he almost loses his marbles
🩷 Decides to fuck you in front of a mirror so that you can see yourself from his perspective
"Don't look away darling, I want you to see how pretty you look for me~"
Takemichi
🍀 Cries because he thinks he caused you to be insecure about yourself
🍀 Showers you in praises because you're absolutely perfect in his eyes
🍀 Let's you ride him so you can set the pace and feel more comfortable
"S-slow down princess, want you to be on top of me for as long as possible~"
Sanzu
🌸 Understands how you feel because he's always been insecure about his scars
🌸 Reassures you that he loves every inch of you, even the parts you don't like
🌸 Breeds you all night to show that he loves you
"F-fuck angel, you look so damn good underneath me, so nice and full ♡"
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Taglist
@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies
#tokyo revengers headcanons#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers fluff#baji x reader#kakucho x reader#takemichi x reader#baji fluff#kakucho fluff#takemichi fluff#mirror sex with Kakucho would literally be life altering 🫠#Baji's official nickname for reader is cutie at this point 😭 I swear it just fits#Michi's so damn cute and subby 😮💨#tokyo revengers smut
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