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#and they need to be shared for my own sanity
eggyboyoart · 11 months
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Being Isaikaied into Genshin (most likely SAGAU tbh) and being able to speak to animals but the power develops gradually and when you finally hear an animal actually speak to you, you think you're hallucinating.
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Reader: Hey Tighnari, could you do a quick check up on me? I think I hit my head
Tighnari: Sure :)
Reader: ...
Tighnari: Everything looks good, you don't appear to have a concussion or any head trauma
Reader: oh, okay then
Reader: then why the FUCK did I just hear that slime just call me a bitch?
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Summoning an army of tigers/foxes/boars and just watching them beat the fuck out of anyone you want.
Reader: I SUMMON MY ARMY OF ANIMALS
Reader: GO MY LITTLE FRIENDS, BEAT THE FUCK OUT OF THAT BITCH ASS
Cyno: WHAT. THE FUCK-
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Listening to animals talk shit about your friends but not being able to defend them because if you do, you'll sound crazy.
Tiger: Kaveh is a lil' crybaby bitch
Reader: :O omg girly, you can't say thatt...
Kaveh, peacefully unaware: :D
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Being insulted by animals and being offended and the people around you just; :|
Reader: Take that back RIGHT NOW
Frog: ... bitch
Reader: TAKE THAT BACK-
Witnesses: ... what the fuck...?
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bylightofdawn · 10 months
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“I feel like Tor Vizsla, and I would disagree on many of the finer points of Mandalorian culture, including the abuse of those under his power.”
I JUST, WITHOUT A SHRED OF IRONY IN MY SOUL, WROTE THIS DIALOGUE LINE FOR WALON-FUCKING-VAU.
Where's my clown shoes and wig. I have legitimately completely thrown myself out of writing heasdspace because I am screaming with laughter every time I read this line.
For thus unfamiliar with the context here, I have a LEGENDARY sized hateboner for Walon Vau because he was one of the most abusive trainers for the clones in old Legends canon. Like outright abuse of those under his power. Traviss tried to put a spin on it in a more positive light in later books but nu-uh. Fuck that shit.
But this fic is set in the past before Vau theoretically turns into a child-terrorizing monster but still. The irony of him saying this... I can't even.
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familiaanteomnia · 1 year
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Freedom in the loosest sense of the word; yet enough breathing room to discover himself and change up the patterns in his life. Ordering delivery, going out to eat and unable to help the unruly sweet tooth. Developing from the freedom to such treats as well from the vices that became part of him. When he remembered or wasn’t too busy that also of course played a big factor. Not to say he didn’t cook- of course he did but often the process was full of moodiness. Him uttering every foul word in every language possible; the whole time. Tea, coffee however- were ritualistic habits he only adapted to his hectic life’s fluctuating schedule. The first time he went back there with a sucker in his mouth; almost debated covering it back up with his wrapper and pocketing it. Yet he didn’t because it was that or smoking and he would hazard a guess the latter would be more prone to cause a problem. One of the vows he made upon being allowed to live elsewhere; he would only cook for others if he felt like it. Not that he thought a situation of that occurring very likely. It would suggest a permanent fixture in his life; somebody to care and love. Her comments that day were rather civil about the new found habit; but he could tell the unspoken annoyance was there. -------- Nobody would ever know, or notice the difference between all the places he lived. Assuming they even saw more than one. But the one in Paris, with the most foot traffic did get plenty comments at times. How messy it was. In their eyes; in the lens of how he grew up it was. Yet the clutter, chaos was purposeful and organized unbeknownst to anybody. Paris was the middle of the road given it did see foot traffic and was where Mercury no doubt paid attention the most to his life. It was home, home in the sense of his first tastes of being able to play music loudly and not having to seek approval before rearranging or adding decor. Home in that it was where he made his first friends, found family and began to discover who he actually was when not worried about being the prodigy he loathed being. Then there was London; home in the sense it really was just his space. He could hang colorful string lights; posters and really live in the space. It was the place where he had put the most personality into it. Of course he also was obligated to stay in; given he had no clue when who he was expecting would show up. Plus he was still processing his recent heartbreak; not following through with what he’d intended and having to leave home basically the instant she said to. And then there was his room, in that place he grew up. The place he really only called home when talking to Her; or with that acidic taste burning his tongue even if he meant it genuinely. The room that grew with him but also was like an time capsule. Rules to how it looked, rejected ideas when he asked to maybe paint the walls or to do anything deemed too drastic. It also felt more like a temporary thing somehow than his actual apartments. Home was a complicated word; often he debated about if he could even call anything his own. But then it became natural and possibly defiant, hopeful to refer as such. His apartments- not Her’s, not anybody else’s to dictate anything about. Even if he couldn’t fully commit to that attitude. ---------- He was of course surprised to see his friend; though relieved and fine with not having to work on getting free himself. Moving casually out of the way; just watching the show and patiently waiting to get uncuffed. It had been nice returning back to Paris; even if his life continued to be one disaster after another. Given all the trouble of the past few days; argument he didn’t want to head back to the bar. Had a bad feeling, which only settled further into his skin upon reaching the bar. Confirmed when the stairs were basically being guarded and he was met with hostility. Knew it was about to be one burned bridge- he’d mourn the loss of one the first places he’d felt he belonged and anchored him in his hectic life. Later- right now he was more worried about the two idiots and how he’d been stupid to kid himself that Mercury wouldn’t be strongly displeased if he didn’t do as she’d asked. Probably already on thin ice for all the lack of checking in. Plus maybe just maybe he did care about what happened to the two of them. Would be a bit cruel to just let them blindly go there. Feeling terrible having to fight them; part of why he was unable to free himself from the grip. Just earlier they’d been friends, family joking and them bailing him out. Shock as processed Nathan’s fit of rage? Gabriel didn’t know what to think of it but he wasn’t horrified maybe upset but then he was shaking it off; to help pull him away. Joking as he left the bar, shouting that the apology wasn’t accepted as if to provide the illusion of control over any of it. Had more important things to worry about as they ran away. When everything was over- he was going to probably have one hell of a breakdown. He deserved loud music, smoking and laying on the floor for hours. As they made their way among the bodies towards the hunter; he saw the body of his dead friend and despite their last encounter. His heart sunk in his chest and he paused there. Not his first loss, wouldn’t be his last and anger aside it hurt. Now wasn’t the time to grieve however. Needed to worry about the two people he loved and not allowing for any more death of people he cared for. ---------- Gabriel threw the pillow at the wall in frustration; normally he kept himself from thinking too much about his life in contrast to other’s and especially fains. Yet- tonight it had gotten into every crevice inside his mind, his body and consumed him alive. No he didn’t get the jokes about whatever cult classic film had been mentioned. It wasn’t endearing or amusing; it was really fucking tragic even if most those films were unappealing and not a hobby he could get into. Prodigy, talented and good looking but abysmal with some of the most average things. No he didn’t know the sort of games people played growing up. He didn’t get taken to any theaters to watch films. He had to force himself to take up space and how to relax. So many things that trickled into being a person, over the course of life and he didn’t have that. Fingers curling up into his hair after lighting up. Aware of his vision blurring with tears that he wouldn’t let fall out of his eyes. Choking sob of a laugh as his brain thought about how he knew how to do things like steer ships but nothing about subjects the made bonding with others less of an nightmare. And eventually he was all used up; the adrenaline high of emotions gone. Collapsed on his bed, wrapping around one of the pillows- it didn’t feel anything like a person but it felt less empty. Once asleep, he stayed asleep well into the late afternoon and when he woke up. Didn’t spare any of his previous evening any thoughts. ----------- He liked to sleep on his side most often; also quite preferred having his back to the wall furthest from a door. Or just sleeping on his back. It really depended where he was, if he was with anybody and countless other factors. However sleeping with his back to anybody was usually out of trust. Or to make them more comfortable. Then there was the fact he typically switched around in his sleep. Sometimes he’d do his best to not curl up into whoever was crashing in his bed. Only to wake up having entangled everything from their legs to their hands in his sleep. Most times he stirred awake before them. Unattaching himself, sometimes he didn’t and at times it wasn’t appreciated. Never figuring out the solution to if they woke before he did. Strange, sleepy limbo when he woke up and then processing what he’d done unconsciously sheepishly shifted to allow them more space. Good example of such was how self aware he was; sharing that bed with the two of them for the first time. Even going to sleep telling himself on loop to stay still in his sleep; really didn’t stop his subconscious from doing it as it pleased. At least when he woke up, he could be grateful he had only shifted slightly in his sleep and mostly kept to himself. Thankfully he didn’t have to even jokingly address it. There was always a level of exhaustion lately; maybe always but constantly going from one danger into another and the trail of death took it’s toll. Especially when tucking all sorts of emotions away to deal with when everything was less life or death. So it wasn’t hard for him to fall back asleep on the boat. Complete other side of the bunk; yet allowing himself to fall asleep facing Nathan. For the simple soothing fact of he’d know immediately he wasn’t alone when he woke back up. Drifting back awake slowly; haze of sleep as brought himself to open his eyes. At first he couldn’t help just want to stay in that state; he was comfortable and he could probably stare forever at the face looking back at him. Self consciousness crept is swift and unrelentless however. So before it could be soured- his hands withdrew close to him. It wasn’t likely Nathan would be hostile about it yet easier to never find out. Maybe he personally was just a wreck given how he had despite wanting to enjoy such comfort had sheepishly ruined it. Then came the crashing down; no more sleepy bliss or time to wake up slowly. Back to reality, back to the chaos that so filled the days lately with a deadline he refused to see happen. But that itself was only a small ripple in the tidal wave of issues. Gabriel didn’t waste anymore time getting up and getting back on mission. Yet he couldn’t quite tuck away the feeling of how he’d woken up; safe and comfortable. It lingered, the feeling of their hands intertwined and the closeness. So, he allowed it to linger while he focused on the tasks on hand. Maybe it’d cancel out some of the pointedly ignored emotions like suffocating fear. --------- Gabriel’s stained fingers, trailed ever so carefully over the various hair dyes. A large part of him impulsively debating- grabbing something bright and neon. Perhaps one of the radioactive looking yellow or green’s. But the instant he saw somebody else enter the store; fingers retracted away from the shelves. The urge dying especially when his brain brought up such an idea would be not worth any strife. Quickly ducking out of the store, into the nighttime and not thinking twice about it. ----------- His hair had powder in it and he was freaking out about it. If his hair got stained- well it might not be the worst thing but given he was supposed to check in. He’d rather not have to rush to either get color staining out or commit to dying his hair. Scrubbing at his hair several times in the shower and even though it didn’t stain could swear it did. It took several drinks and a few other things to calm himself down enough that he finally put the hair bleach back away off his bathroom counter. Doing some fresh makeup and a different change of clothes. Which really ended up just being changing some of the layers. Not for the check in or appearance’s sake but to shake off the rest of the freak out. Deciding to remove his chipped nail polish; it’d been experimental and he rather liked it not being perfect. The look was nice, so he didn’t stare at his finger tips as critically nor have to worry about staining or the already not so usual tinge to them or his nails. Kept him from biting them- turned out to be a nervous habit he must’ve rediscovered living on his own. ------------ “You look like hell my friend.” Gabriel put his middle fingers up while collapsing onto the sofa. It was all in the name of love and fun. Though he also was not in the greatest mood. Hungover, unrelated migraine and many bad choices the prior night in the name of self discovery. “No thanks to the fucking cocktails; whatever they contained is way too potent.” Of course his grouching was met with laughter, extended out cup of coffee. Readjusting his sunglasses before picking it up in both hands. Downing it before extending it out for more. -------------- Reclining, blowing the smoke upwards and enjoying the atmosphere. Getting up as the song switched to something far too moody. He didn’t want it ruining his pleasant high that’d just started feeling good. “Trying to put your customers to sleep.” A very not amused expression followed by the song being switched to something else. Far more upbeat, catchy and he gave a polite thanks before getting lost dancing to the music. Into the haze of his high, of the fun and the person who decided to dance with him. Which turned into waking up, alone and then the usual daily monotony. ---------- In the name of exploring, discovery and adventure- he had spent hours trying to locate one building. Was it worth it? He had no clue but given it was a local record store; most likely worth it in terms of his music loving soul getting another place to obtain and expand his music knowledge. Finally he found it in the late afternoon. As soon he stepped in the door, it was so beyond worth it from the music that was playing through the building and just the wide array everywhere. His funds basically depleted when he couldn’t help but buy an sizable stack. Rushing back to his home fully intent to spend the rest of the evening listening and relaxing. In fact, for a couple albums he just laid there and didn’t even smoke. For more than one listen of each Not working on anything. Didn’t read any of the books he’d gotten to read from the previous weeks adventure to an second hand bookstore. Being unproductive, lazy was not something he tended to do often. Everything was purposeful or out of necessity; multi tasking was what he knew best and grew up on. To just lay there? Not indulging in vices and only listening to music- was something he’d probably not consider doing ever. Yet he didn’t get restless or upset. His thoughts were peaceful and he was comfortable, calm. Even eventually unable to help drifting off into a little nap. As the exhaustion from several long days finally was able to creep in and get a hold of him. Back to the backside of the couch; curled up on his side with one hand brushing against the floor. His other tucked up close to his chest; it was an nap of peaceful slumber remarkably.
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crowfeathers · 1 year
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when erika stabbed herself at the end of piano teacher and chow whispered into the tree at the end of in the mood for love we’re left with artistic means of expressing difficult emotions but the real tragedy is not being able to dramatize our own feelings to the same level of catharsis.
they’re fictional characters whose stories end when they do. meanwhile we’re put on earth to deal with our own issues possibly until the day we die and we have to live with that apparently.
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eye-cri · 7 months
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Ayo if a dude bro understands the importance of the Chimera ant arc more than you just log out honestly.
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wonryllis · 2 months
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☆ MY PRETTY DOLL ! ( enhypen hyung line reaction to you in a lingerie )
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╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾.
𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen losing their sanity 𖥔 ݁ SMUT MDNI, requested fem!reader LIB? word count ` 1074 PLS REBLOG!!
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚
"my pretty little slut, you did this on purpose didn't you?" heeseung's fingers thrust in and out of you at an animalistic pace. the wet sounds echoing in the room, adding onto the arousal of watching yourself on the mirror. your back rests against his chest as he holds your legs apart with his own. one hand fingering the fuck out of you and the other grip your throat to force you to keep your eyes at the vulgar image infront.
"falling asleep on my bed with this on, baby you're so dirty and desperate," he grunts at the lewd sight, mentally drooling over the scene of you trying to push your hips forward to meet his fingers when he slows down a bit.
heeseung swears he almost stopped breathing when he came across you passed out on top of his covers, dressed in the prettiest lingerie. more like pretty you making the lingerie look so pretty. the thought of you waiting in his room like that to give him a surprise fueling his inner sex demons. feeling more turned on than ever. grinning sheepishly over his intentions.
"come on now, ride me baby," his arms hook around you as he manhandles you onto his lap. carressing your trembling thighs and slapping your pussy. he rests his palms on the bed, watching you struggle to put his cock inside after all the edging he put you through. cooing at your whiney protests to let you cum, cute and pathetic and hot. so cruel but you loved it and he knew you loved it.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚
"fuck baby, i can see your pussy from here," jay groans, feeling his dick twitch hard in his pants. the sleep lolling him from the previous night he spent gaming, immediately vanishing. he is so wide awake right now, orbs bulging out at the sight of you twirling in the middle of his room, showing off the lingerie you just got, for him.
it barely covers your ass, and it barely— wrong it does not cover your pussy at all, he can see it so clearly he thinks he'll grow crazy. frozen in his seat, gulping at every thought that comes to his mind, things he'd do to you right now.
"is it pretty?" you ask, looking at him with doe eyes, he feels he'll bust a nut right then and there. his cock throbbing with anticipation as he gets up from the chair, walking over to where you stand. calloused hands gently brush against everywhere, taking his time to admire your look, trying to imprint the image of it in his brain. "jayyy, do i look pretty? do you like thi—"
"yes baby, so so pretty. so fucking pretty," he's immediately grabbing you by the waist and throwing you on the bed. impatient all of a sudden as he rips the pathetic thread of a panty and shoving down his pants, thrusts his impossibly hard dick so rough into you, it's like he lost control. you drive him batshit crazy and jay doesn't know if it's good or worse that you fucking know it and use it to get what you want.
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡
"give me a little show, princess," jake's hands twitch with desperation, so restless to touch you. though the need to savour the sight of you in that racy lingerie is strong he can't help but be seated, tense and aroused, eyes locked on your figure.
"shit, you're beautiful," the way the lace hugs your skin with the little sneak peaks of skin showing him exactly what he wants to see but not entirely what he wants to see and it makes him feel feral.
"won't you touch me?" you whine sultrily, and jake feels like a hybrid in rut, his body heating up beyond sane, dick throbbing every other second, feeling hyper aware of his surroundings and possibilities of all that he could do to and with you. he pulls you against him lips landing on yours in an instant, the messiest kiss you have ever shared, rushed and gasping for breath. there's just so much he wants to do right now he can't seem to decide what to start with, malfunctioning poorly.
"fuck, jake," yet he finds it in him to begin with rubbing you over your pretty panties, quick circles with his fingers pressing hard against your sensitive folds,"yes baby, gonna make you feel so good," he pushes you to lay on the edge of the bed before forcing your legs far apart in a snap. getting on his knees and leaving fluttering kisses on you inner thighs. shoving your panties aside and diving in to eat you out at once. from kitten licks to lapping at your slick, from tiny kisses for a tease to lips harshly sucking at your engorged clit. jake was absolutely crazed.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡
"sunghoon! what are you doing!" you squeal, squirming in place as sunghoon suddenly grabs you from the corridor into his dark room, and cornering you against his desk roughly pulls your oversized shirt(his shirt) up. door slightly ajar, an open chance for anyone to peak in.
"couldn't help but wonder if you're still wearing it," he whispers, hands fondling your breasts harsh and sloppy over the lace material. just an hour earlier, while he was out with jay you sent him a picture of you dressed in the most gorgeous set of lingerie ever. looking so innocently sexy he felt his breath knocked right out of him, dick hard and leaking in the middle of the mall.
"mhp— they'll h-hear us," but that is least of sunghoon's concern right now, they have heard him fuck you before, multiple times. all he cares about is that you're here, putty in his arms, adorning the hottest thing you have ever worn, fabric barely covering your intimate parts. just touching you like this makes him feel so high on cloud nine, the rush of pleasure in your little whimpers and moans trying to be quiet. nothing is more important than this.
"let them hear, fuck you're so damn pretty i'll cum just from this," his breath is ragged, fast and shuttering as he watches your face contort into the prettiest of expressions while his hand stuffed in your panties, plays with your pussy. fingers switching between flicking and pinching at the little bud and plunging into your slicked hole in slow thrusts.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle
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catcze · 5 months
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While you were both dancing around... whatever kind of relationship you have, you had become intimately familiar with the fact that Wriothesley loved to call you terms of endearment. From anyone else, you'd gag and cringe at the cheesiness of the pet names, but somehow Wriothesley just made them work. Even some of the most cliche ones ever— My Heart. Love. Amour.
You had just been getting used to it, had just been getting used to fighting down the unbidden curl of your lips whenever he calls you by these names, when he decided to change things up a little.
"Hey, mon cœur, come take a look at this for a sec," Wriothesley says easily, barely even looking up from the newspaper in his hand. You, however, stop in your tracks.
Mon cœur. My love. Mine.
You're not entirely sure when Wriothesley started adding 'my' to the beginning of each of his cheesy little pet names, but you can't deny that every time you hear it, it sends you into a flustered little tizzy. You try to beat back the flutter of the butterflies in your stomach, try to fight down the heat that finds itself at your neck and the tips of your ears. Goodness, you have to will yourself not to hide your face in your hands, if only because that would make your predicament that much more obvious to him.
You nearly jump out of your skin when the very object of your embarrassment stands before you, his hand light on your shoulder. His brows are furrowed in concern, the back of his hand already raised to your forehead in a soft touch as if to check for a fever.
"Are you alright?" he asks, other arm holding you steady. You need the support, but not for the reasons he might think.
“Yeah— yeah,” you say, trying to shake yourself out of it. Trying to banish the thought of him calling you my love for the sake of your own sanity. “Yeah, I’m fine, no need to worry.”
“You sure? You’ve been kind of out of it recently.”
You gulp, gaze unsubtly trying to drift away. For a second you debate between being honest and merely shelving the topic for another time, but... something about his concern makes you want to dissuade his worries, even at the cost of your own pride.
Painstakingly, you try to clear your throat. “Yeah, I just…the… the pet names, they…”
Wriothesley raises a brow, blinking for just a second before a smug, pleased little grin finds its way onto his lips. “Oh? You mean, the little additions I added to them?” And when you only nod once, unable to look him in the eye despite how physically close you both are, his grin widens.
For the sake of your dignity, your racing heart and the steady heat crawling up your face, you wish that he’d give the teasing a break, but instead Wriothesley comes closer half a step, wraps both arms around you and leans down close enough that you can see the way the blue in his eyes shifts with the light.
“Does it get you all flustered when I call you mine, mon cœur?” He practically purrs, just to prove a point. It makes you swallow heavily, makes you want to smack him out of sheer embarrassment.
You do, in fact, try to slap him on the chest but he just laughs like it was nothing— curse him and his muscles.
But he manages to catch your hand by the wrist before you can draw it back, placing a sweet kiss on the back of your hand, and you come undone.
He holds your hand tenderly, his arm still wrapped around you, keeping you cradled against his chest
"You know," Wriothesley admits softly, leaning close and keeping his voice low, like it's a secret he wants to share only with you. His smile is boyish. Cute. Filled to the brim with affection and honey. "I'm actually really happy that you like it, because I really like thinking that I'm yours, too."
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[ #Taglist registration here !! ]
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months
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Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader
Getting so worked up during a celebration for Price's birthday that Simon has to take you in the bathroom of the bar you are both at just so you'll calm down
"Just couldn't fuckin' wait till we got back, yeah baby?" Simon growls in your ear with his warm breath, lips close to the side of your head as you both stand cramped inside that tiny bathroom stall as he desperately works your cunt with his fingers. "My fuckin' needy little kitten, shit you're just grinding away on my thick fuckin' fingers, aren't ya? Needed it that bad?"
It wasn't your fault honestly, he knew what the liquor did to your libido and yet he let you have shot after shot to keep pace with the boys...I mean it was a celebration after all, but still.
If he didn't want to be knuckles deep between your petals he should have pulled the reigns long ago...and yet maybe this was what he wanted in the first place. It wasn't like he was dismissing your discrete advances all night, even taking you by the hand to the dingy bar bathroom himself.
Price's birthday wasn't always able to be celebrated, work did have to come first unfortunately, but it just so happened that everything fell into place this year and so the entire group gathered in the local bar to let go and have fun.
And here you were with Simon having you own extra bit of fun, though this one wasn't for sharing...
Using your bandana that you had worn in your hair tonight as makeshift cuffs, Simon had your hands tied behind your head so that you wouldn't be tempted to stop the work his fingers were currently doing down below to get you off.
It had to be quick and distractions wouldn't help.
"Sorry, baby," you whimpered, mouth agape as heavy breaths exited your lips. "Just fucking need you so bad sometimes I can't see straight. And you are just looking so good tonight...was having trouble not just riding you at the table."
Oh he was absolutely gonna give you hell for it, but there was no doubt that he loved every fucking second of just how needy you could get for him. Just hearing that lilting whine in your voice, begging and pleading with him to take you in any way, shape, or form he could sent him up the goddamn wall.
"They probably all know what we're doin' in here, ya know that sweetheart," he said, thick accent making your skin tingle and your clit throb. "They're probably chucklin' under their breaths about how we weren't slick at all, breakin' away from the group like that. I bet they're whisperin' about how you're fuckin' just takin' it all, whatever I give ya."
You shook your head, eyes closed as he slipped another large finger into your already soaked panties and up into your core. "Don't care," you breathed, "even if they call me a whore, they better put your name in front of it and I won't deny it."
The plan was just to get you off quick so that you could finish out the night with the gang and then take you back later to his to do you proper, but fuck the way his cock was straining against the fabric of his jeans that wasn't gonna be enough.
"F-fuck baby, why do you always feel so fucking good?" you again whimpered quietly, so far gone between the booze and your lovers fingers that sanity had left you completely.
You were just so fucking wet, looking so goddamn voluptuous with all those juicy curves, saying all the right things to make him fall apart. As much as he tried to stay sane, it wasn't working, so change of plans...otherwise he was gonna be a fucking mess and that just wouldn't do.
That's how it always went, didn't it? He should've known he could keep himself out of you; not even if he tried.
"Ya want me inside ya?" Simon asked hurriedly out of the blue, as if he didn't already know the answer, and instantly your eyes shot open as your heart nearly burst from your chest.
"God, yes," you answered without hesitation. "Please Simon, fill me to the brim..."
A quick scramble to undo his pants, buckle jingling and denim rubbing against itself as he shimmied the damned things down enough to release himself, his cock already hard and pulsating, needing to enter you now.
Using the toilet paper dispenser as a makeshift ledge, Simon picked you up and set you on it with a prayer that it would stay bolted to the stall wall long enough the he could get you both off before it broke. He hated that any part of you had to touch anything in here, who the fuck knew how clean it was, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Your thighs instantly locked around his hips as you waited for him to align the head of his cock with your entrance. "Gotta make this quick" he groaned, the head of his member slipping itself through your petals.
And there it was, the initial thrust that always split you open as you took every inch inside until he ran out of inches to give. Christ, how fucking amazing it was to be so full of him; that fucking girth was more than enough.
"G-god-d-damn," he choked out, his hands digging harshly into your hips as he clung on for dear life, trying to not cum so fast. "Your gonna be the fuckin' death of me sweetheart."
You were already soaked and he had no trouble slamming into you over and over again, his pace quick and intense as at any moment someone could come walking through the door and hear you two going at it like a couple of teenagers, screwing wherever the mood struck.
Over and over his cock thrust into your core, the wet sounds of skin slapping against one another music to his ears that only fueled his passions further. You were a dream, a fucking vision of lustful beauty, and the way you felt only matched.
What was he supposed to do, not be obsessed? Fuck that, you were the best goddamn thing to happen to the manky bastard and it made him absolutely crazy about you.
Shit the pressure felt divine as the angle of his penetration made certain to engage your sensitive clit as well. Mix that with the tingling in your limbs from the alcohol and you were already dancing dangerously close to the edge of your orgasm.
"Yes, y-yes," you repeated in increasing volume, breasts bouncing up and down against his chest as he pounded into you.
"That's it sweetheart," he praised, "come on. Let go for me baby."
The wall of the stall shaking, the creak of the paper dispenser beneath you, the relentless place of Simon's hips snapping against yours was all to much.
"Cum with me," you begged.
"I'm already there luv," he replied quickly, "just let go. Come on pretty girl, come on."
In and out, in and out of your tight cunt a few more times, his abs clenching as Simon's own orgasm popped off and you were gone, crying out as your body shook from the release of pressure like a least in the wind.
Shit you saw fucking stars with that one.
As you both rode out the end of your pleasure together, that's when you heard the door open and a pair of heavy booted footsteps cross the floor. Simon's large palm cupped over the entirety of your mouth to stifle the last of your orgasmic moans, his cock still buried within you as whoever it was went about their business, taking a piss as was evident by the sound.
The urinal flushed after a few moments, followed by footsteps to the sink. A quick wash and the both of you thought the coast would soon be clear and you'd be able to finish up and head out.
"Be sure and come back to join us when your done, yeah?" the voice of your captain sounded through the tiny room; you'd been caught red handed. "Would hate to see you two leave early...again."
Well fuck, guess the cat was out of the bag now. Simon chuckled as he leaned in and gave you a kiss as the door to the bathroom shut, leaving you two alone in silence again.
"Oops," Simon whispered against your lips before he planted another heavy, greedy kiss to them, "too bad I'm not sorry."
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Text
I Want It All: Part 1
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Part 2, Part 3; AO3 Link
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Flirting, Light Angst, Longing
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It's easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can't pretend anymore?
A/N: This turned into a monstrosity. For my own sanity I need to break it up into three parts. I also apologize in advanced, the stuff in the preview won’t pop up until part 2. And please, REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!
Word Count: 4.8K
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The day really couldn’t decide whether it was going to be terrible or tolerable. 
On the one hand, it had been pouring rain for hours, leaving you and your party drenched as you searched for some place dry to sleep. On the other hand, you were able to find an inn with more than enough rooms to accommodate all of you. On the other, other hand, rooms cost money, something that was in short supply. 
“How much does that make?” Karlach asked, placing her share into the pile. 
Gale counted out the coins. “Enough for our own rooms, but not much in the way of food.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Hold on, this can’t be right. Who forgot to pitch in?”
All eyes turned suspiciously to Astarion. 
He raised his hands in surrender. “I put down enough for the room. Food is something…you all have to deal with.”
Lae’zel gave him a hard look, the threat obvious on her features. 
“We could always share a room or two,” Shadowheart cut in. “That will at least hold us over until we can find a way to make more coin.”
A devilish smirk formed on the vampire’s lips as his eyes turned to you. “I’m not opposed to the idea. Certainly would make it easier for me to get a little midnight snack.” 
You gave a theatrical sigh. “Not tonight dear. I have a headache.” 
“Teasing minx.” 
“Can the pair of you not for ten seconds?” Wyll complained. 
You bit back a laugh, turning your gaze to the dining area of the tavern. Gods you could smell something delicious cooking over the fireplace. When was the last time you had a proper hot meal? 
It was then you turned your eyes to one of the empty corners. The solution to the issue of food suddenly became obvious. 
“Not to worry everyone,” you announced, swiping the coins from Gale’s hand. “Dinner is on me.” 
Before anyone could speak, you stepped towards the bar, making a point to put on your best smile. 
A elderly halfling woman regarded you as you approached. “What can I get you deary?”
“Actually it’s a matter of what I can do for you,” you said. “I see you have some instruments sitting much too idly.”
The old lady shrugged. “Not really. Night like this you don’t need music to bring people in.”
Your smile faltered a moment, but you pushed on. “That may be, but nothing keeps people drinking longer and deeper than a good song.”
She gave you a disparaging look. “Don’t tell me, bard right?”
“Guilty.”
“If you don’t have money for the rooms, we don’t comp that.”
You waved the comment away. “The rooms aren’t the issue. However, if you’re willing to part with a cauldron of stew, I’ll consider it payment enough.” 
Her eyes remained wary, but you knew you had her as a twitch came to her lips. “That’ll do.  Thirty minute set. You eat after.” 
She held out a hand which you took, striking the bargain. 
It didn’t take long after to secure the rooms. They were nothing fancy, but a mattress was a mattress and with the guarantee of true privacy for the first time in weeks, none of you were complaining. 
“How’s this about food then?” Karlach asked, taking a seat at one of the few tables large enough to accommodate all seven of you. 
“All taken care of,” you assured. “Just need to pluck out a quick set and we can eat.” 
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Astarion said. “I don’t mind it myself, but your songs have a tendency to be a bit, well…destructive. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t use that cutting mouth of yours to simply insult the woman into feeding you.” 
“As it turns out, I have a little thing called restraint. Unlike some people,” you countered. 
“Oh trust me my dear, I’m well aware of that.” 
You rolled your eyes, deciding to ignore the slight twist of guilt in your stomach. 
He couldn’t seem to help making those kinds of jabs ever since you had declined his offer for a midnight tryst; always alluding to the theme of “untapped passions” or “delayed gratification”. It was starting to wear on you. 
Gods knew you liked him. He had so many qualities you admired; insight, intelligence, charm, the way he could make you laugh. The more you learned, the more you wanted to know and the more you were willing to give for answers. The trouble was his idea of a night of passion and yours were so very, very different.
A part of you knew the honest thing to do would be to spell it out for him.  You understood him well enough to know he’d respect those boundaries. At the same time, you didn’t want to lose this, whatever this was, between you. If suddenly that night of passion was off the table, all those moments, all his attentions would be lost. He’d be a friend, certainly, but nothing more. 
It was selfish. You knew it was. You couldn’t imagine finding the words to explain it to him. It would leave you too exposed, too vulnerable to that insistent burning want that had a way of tearing you apart from the inside out. It was better to leave him to his assumptions of suppression and prudishness. You’d keep your dignity at least. 
Pushing those thoughts away, you took your place in the unobtrusive corner and the spare violin waiting for you. 
A smile spread across your face as you tucked the familiar instrument under your chin. Since this whole adventure of yours began, you had little opportunity to apply your skills. Music had always been a source of comfort to you. It felt right to indulge in it now, some place safe and filled with warm firelight. 
With a flick of your wrist you began, the resonating tone of the strings filling the room. 
You allowed your eyes to close as you slipped into the melody. The sounds of conversation and laughter fell to an idle murmur. It was a simple tune, something easy to match the atmosphere, but one you loved all the same. You always found it best to start with something familiar. If the patrons could see you get lost in the music, they inevitably followed. 
As the first song came to an end, you chanced a quick glance at your audience. 
Most of the patrons still prattled on, but enough turned your direction to encourage you to try something a little more daring. 
Your fingers flew, igniting a livelier rhythm. More eyes found their way to you. A pleasant bubbling sensation filled you. They were falling right into your hands.  
Rising to your feet, you glided across the floor, moving with the music towards the center of the room. 
Patrons shuffled out of the way, transfixed by your performance. Even your companions had stopped their chatter. 
Karlach and Shadowheart’s faces lit up in delight. A smile touched the corner of Gale’s mouth. Even Lae’zel and Wyll looked on with admiration at your skills. As for Astarion…Astarion just stared. 
You couldn’t quite read what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. It was a look you had caught him wearing more than once, always blinked away before you could fully comprehend its meaning. All you knew was how it made that dangerous hope spark in your chest. 
He caught you looking and quickly morphed his expression to its familiar smirk. The bastard even had the audacity to wink. 
You rolled your eyes pretending not to have seen. It was all part of the game after all. He pretended to care, you pretended not to fall for it. 
A lute suddenly joined you from one of the corners, strumming its way into a new song. 
You turned as a cheer rose, encouraging the intrusive lutist forward. He was human by the look of him and certainly skilled in his own right. He took a moment to embellish your solo before taking over with one of his own. Soon enough you joined the conversation again with a counter melody. It wasn’t as clean as you would have liked it. The lad clearly had meant to upstage you, but you made sure to put him in line, allowing the impromptu duet to end in some kind of harmony. 
You transitioned easily to a new song as he took a seat, bowing to you as he did.
Remembering your showmanship, you made a point to bow in return, schooling your expression into a flirtatious grin before pulling away. That earned the man a round of cheers from his friends and a few obvious oohs from the crowd; exactly as you intended. 
You continued on with the remainder of your set. Requests were shouted from the audience, all the pieces of music moving to and from your fingers with practiced grace.  By the end of it, your arms were exhausted, but your face hurt from smiling. Gods you had missed this. 
As you took your bow, applause followed you back to your table as well as a handful of extra coin. 
“That was amazing!” Karlach said, beaming at you. “How’d you learn to play like that?”
“Years of practice,” you said, with pride. “Had to find an honest living somehow.”
“Well, it was beautifully done,” Gale added. “Maybe next time we make camp you could grace us with another performance. Provided we’re not all about to die of course.”
You shot him a grin. “I could be persuaded.” 
The wizard turned his gaze away, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet Astarion. Been bewitched have you?”
The vampire blinked as if coming out of deep thought. It was only in those last moments did you realize just how intently he had been looking in your direction.
“Yes,” he said, a little stiffly, “you were quite…good.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Be careful there. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm me with praise.”
He regarded you a moment before a sly smile turned at his lips. 
You were almost relieved. That look you understood at least. 
“If it’s praise you crave, you need only ask,” he purred. “You, my dear, are an unparalleled talent. Your beauty and grace alone should have brought you into the presence of kings. A true diamond in the rough.”
You snorted out a laugh.
“No good?” he continued. “How about this one; if I die tomorrow and the gods grant me mercy it will be your song that brings me into the beyond.”
You gave him a slow clap. “Brava.” 
He inclined his head in a little bow. “But seriously, you were good and you didn’t even destroy the furniture. Admittedly though, I wouldn’t have minded if he had met with a little accident.” 
You followed Astarion’s eye line to the lute player chatting with his friends. He perked up as he felt eyes on him. Without the distraction of playing, you could easily tell he was handsome in that sun kissed farmer’s son kind of way. Probably had most of the girls in the village swooning. 
He raised a tankard to you in toast.
You met the gesture in acknowledgment. 
“He wasn’t that bad,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
“He was the worst part of your performance,” Astarion insisted. 
You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t help but have your fun. 
“Oh my darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.
“Certainly I am,” he said, clutching his own chest in turn. “He’s the only person I’ve seen you willing to make sweet music with. And judging from his looks, he would have much preferred it to be a private performance.” 
You didn’t bother looking over to the other table to see if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter either way. It never did. Your answer was always the same. 
“He’ll have to keep waiting.” You shrugged. “Not my type.”
Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. “And what exactly is?”
You didn’t answer, deciding instead to take a long sip of your ale.
He continued to eye you, his lips pursed as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few moments he let out an exasperated sigh. 
“Fine, keep your secrets, but I will figure it out eventually.”
Your lip twitched up into a half smile. “You may certainly try.” 
It was then one of the staff brought out a truly enormous cauldron of the most delicious smelling stew you had smelled in your life. 
You didn’t think to wait as you greedily poured a ladle full into your empty bowl. Two full days on the road with nothing but a handful of nuts and berries to sustain you had taken its toll. The rest of the group soon followed, each taking their share. You ate yours so quickly that by the time the ladle had made the circle, you were grabbing for seconds.  
“Hungry are we?” Astarion observed. 
You paused mid bite, heat rising in your cheeks. You took a quick look at everyone else. Nobody seemed to have noticed how you inhaled your food. They were content enough in their own bowls and conversation. Carefully you swallowed before self consciously setting down the spoon in your hand.  
           “I am the one who worked for this,” you said, more defensively than you intended. 
Astarion regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Even so, it’s not going to disappear the second you look away.” 
“Says you.” 
“Clever,” he said, dryly. “Devastating really. What’s next? Are you going to hit me with an “oh yeah” or Gods forbid a “your mother”?”
“I was actually leaning towards, “leave me to eat in peace you pompous jackass”.”
“Oh yes, that’s much better.”
You breathed out a frustrated sigh. Hopefully it would distract from your obvious embarrassment. You had thought you’d tucked those bad habits away. 
Years of living on your own had left you going to bed hungry more times than you cared to remember. There was a time food had disappeared from your plate if you didn’t eat it fast enough. Of course, things got better. You found music and people willing to listen. It gave you fire and shelter and a contented stomach on good nights. Still, there were the bad ones and old instincts took over. It took practice not to be as ravenous as you knew your nature to be. 
“Do I need to worry about your hunger?” you asked, deciding to change the subject. 
“Oh you of all people should know by now. I’m insatiable,” he crooned. 
Your eyes narrowed, unamused. “I’m being serious, when’s the last time you ate?”
He shrugged. “Few days. Last time I fed on you I imagine.” 
Your stomach gave a sudden guilt ridden twist. If that were the case, it had to have been at least three days ago. 
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because as much as the image of you swooning in my arms is appealing, I’d rather it be over my charms rather than blood loss.” He nodded his head towards the bowl. “From my own experience hunger and restraint don’t mix.” 
You tried to fight it. You really did. Years of instinct and reason told you not to fall for the softness in his eyes and voice. He simply didn’t want to explain a dead body to the rest of the party. It wasn’t out of some concern for your well being. And you absolutely could not allow yourself to believe he recognized the desperation in your actions and not pass judgment. If you believed that, you’d be in much more danger than you already were. 
“Excuse me deary,” an elderly voice asked. “I was wondering if I could have another moment of your time.”
You turned to see the barkeeper at your shoulder. 
“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Of course.” 
You moved to stand, but she gestured you down. It was then you noticed she was carrying a case. It was worn with age, but clearly lovingly maintained as the edges shone with intricate gold inlay. 
“I know you already paid for your meal,” she said. “But I was hoping I could ask for one more performance tonight.”
She opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin you’d ever laid eyes on. The wood was a carefully polished chestnut interrupted with carvings which matched those on the case. The strings shone like gold and the pegs carved marble. You may not be a trained wizard, but could feel the magic pulsing from every square inch of it. 
“What is this?”
“It was my father’s,” the woman explained. “He was a bard you see, best in these parts from what people told. He had so many stories and songs. Built it himself to help tell them. Try as I might though, I could never get it to play as sweetly. I was hoping you might.”
You looked to your companions. The obvious curiosity played on all their faces. 
With a cautious hand, you plucked one of the strings. 
It was perfectly in tune. The sound echoed, rich and vibrant even with so light a touch. The instrument itself seemed to glow as if happy to be played once again.
Slowly, you lifted it from the case, taking the bow in hand. You placed it on the strings and with an exhale drew the first notes. 
It was the loveliest sound you’d ever heard.  
The vibrations resinated in your fingers, moving through your arm and into your chest. 
You decided to start simple, a handful of scales to get the intonations just right. 
Color danced across the strings, rippling from your fingers like raindrops in a pond. 
“Woah,” Karlach said, her eyes widening in awe. “Are you doing that?”
“No,” you said, pausing your motions, as you let it fall slack in your hands. 
The elderly halfing smiled. “My father always said an artist puts their truth into every stroke of the bow. This here helps one’s heart shine. I saw the way you performed earlier, you’re not afraid to play what’s true.”
Color rose in your cheeks, unsure how to take such praise. “Thank you.”
She just smiled, nodding towards the instrument. “Keep playing. See what happens.”
You were suddenly aware of the rest of the party’s eyes turning expectantly towards you. Some with caution, some with anticipation, and one pair of red eyes with unreadable intentions. 
Knowing there was no way you were getting out of this now, you rose from your seat, placing the violin securely beneath your chin. 
You started slow, picking a tune every beginner memorized in their first lessons. 
The music sparkled in front of your eyes, twirling outward in melodic waves.
The hum of conversation began to die down as you spotted the barkeeper beckon for silence. 
You continued on, moving to something a little more complex, allowing yourself to let the rest of the room blur in the peripheries. 
The sound of boots on cobblestones met your ears. Glancing down you saw stone where hardwood floors had been. 
You took another step. 
The stones followed. 
Around you the room fluctuated between firelight and the brightness of morning. Looking up you could see a clear sky had replaced the hatched ceiling. 
A smile spread across your face as you stepped away from your bench. 
As if waiting for your queue the rest of the bar quickly moved tables and chairs out of the way, clearing the center floor. 
The sun followed as the cobblestones spread out in front of you like a stream. With every flourish, finer details were added. You changed the direction allowing a building to form beside you, then another and another. Images of people faded in and out like memories, coming and going with the flow of the music. 
You never felt anything like this before. The strings sang inside you, drawing out a melody you knew was there, but had always managed to slip from your grasp. 
You surrendered to its current, following it deeper and deeper until all you could see, all you could touch was the music. 
Behind your eyes the streets began to turn and change. Buildings loomed large overhead. You could hardly see the stars. A cold swept through your clothes, the chords of the melody vibrating with the shivers in your hands. The world was so much bigger and you were so much smaller. 
No instrument laid in your hands, but still the music played on as if you had slipped into a dream. 
You continued to walk unsure of where your feet were carrying you until something warm pressed against your back. Light reflected behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. A melody played, soft and soothing against your own. You turned towards it as the voices of long forgotten conversation and laughter accompanied the strings of a quartet.
Your chords and theirs brushed up against each other, a new light shining in the darkness, but just as soon as it began, it moved away, leaving you on your own once again. 
You continued on, brushing against others. Sparks would fly, fire would ignite only for them it fade in front of your eyes. 
Your own melody grew more desperate, moving and shaping itself to match whoever you found next only just able to cling onto the barest sense of itself. 
An ache grew in your chest as you wandered, always searching, never finding. Something warm trailed down your cheeks. You let it flow, unable to stop. You wouldn’t end the story here, even as swirls of blues and blacks surrounded you. They wrapped around your body, filling your vision and squeezing tight around you until you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs. There was nothing else.  Even the music had gone dead. 
For what felt like a moment and eternity you sat there, alone in the dark. 
A voice came to you then, but it didn’t come from the instrument tucked somewhere under your chin.  No melody accompanied it. It was so far away. Something about it was so familiar. It spoke your name like a desperate prayer. You reached out for it.
The air itself moved around you as if you had plucked the very strings of the universe. 
A low hum came next bringing with it two pin pricks of light. A red fire glowed in the darkened space, growing until they sat as two eyes burning in the air. 
You cocked your head to the side. Your own song started again, cautious as it curled around the eyes, examining them from different angles. 
The eyes crinkled at the edges, amused by your persistence. 
With a blur of motion, it turned to the side allowing a profile to form and beginning an enticing melody of its own. 
You and the face took turns, calling and answering in playful antagonism. 
The lines of light continued downward as its counter melody grew in strength against your own, forming the outline of a man.
He stepped towards you, his own head turning to the side as yours had done before, examining you from every angle. 
After a moment, he bowed. You curtseyed. And then you did what only felt natural. You danced.
The heat of his touch burned your skin, but you didn’t dare pull away. You had been cold for so long you hadn’t even known you were cold. Even when it became too much, the fear of the darkness kept you in his light. 
The man in turn held you close, his song teasing against your own. So unlike the duet from before, this was a true conversation, the pair of you giving and taking in equal measure. You didn’t want it to stop, holding the feeling tighter and tighter until you felt the pulse of his fire inside you. 
You looked up to find the embers of his eyes pouring into you.  He moved your hand to his chest. A heart pumped beneath and you knew then it wasn’t his own. Just as you had taken from him, he had taken from you in equal measure. 
His face came into focus, forming a familiar knowing smirk and playful scarlet eyes.
He stepped back from you, his hand holding yours as he bowed, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. 
The song faded away and you were once again in your own body, a violin tucked carefully beneath your chin. 
You blinked your eyes open to find the tavern standing as it had been moments ago.  Patrons surrounded you, their eyes wide and mouths open. You glanced around the room, quickly finding your companions. Horror struck you as you read their expression. 
They’d seen it. All of it. 
Before you could register what was happening a wave of applause erupted from the crowd. People began to cheer. You heard awed whoops and hollers. The adoration was overwhelming and completely miss timed. You needed to lie down. You needed to think. 
Numbly you bowed before making your way to the side of the room where the barkeeper stood. 
You held the instrument out to her, unable to look her directly in the eye. 
“Thank you for letting me play this,” you said. 
To your surprise she didn’t take it, instead pushing your hands away with a shake of her head. 
“Keep it love,” she said. “After seeing all that, feels wrong to take it away from you. You’ve more than earned the right to it.”
You wanted to argue. You wanted to scream. You wanted to curse her for ever asking you to touch the damned thing. Somehow you managed to swallow all of that down, mumbling another thank you before slowly turning towards your party. 
There was still a chance to salvage this. Astarion hadn’t seen his own reflection in centuries. He didn’t know what he looked like. You could play this whole thing up to artistic license. You just carried a general feeling of desperate longing. No need for you to clarify its direction. 
Making a point to keep your head down, you put the violin away and slid it over to Gale. 
“Feel free to eat this one if you want,” you said. It was meant to be a joke, but even you could feel it fall flat. 
“I don’t think I can do that,” Gale said, his tone holding nothing but sympathy. 
“It really was lovely,” Wyll said, gently. 
“Beautiful really,” Shadowheart added. 
Your jaw tightened, caught between the urge to scream or weep. Why couldn’t everybody do you the favor of the lifetime and forget they saw anything. 
“Personally I don’t understand your choice in the spawn, but–” Lae’zel started only to be hit hard in the arm by Karlach.
“What?” she snapped. 
Your whole body cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next. 
“That was…me?” 
You were in hell. This was hell. You didn’t have to look up to see Astarion’s self satisfied expression. His tone made it clear enough.
In a flash you stepped back from the table, putting as much distance between you and the party as possible. 
“I need to go,” you managed. “Goodnight.” 
You sprinted out of the tavern, taking two steps of the time to the upper rooms. You didn’t stop until your door was firmly slapped behind you. 
Your breaths came hard as your heart pounded in your chest. Honestly you didn’t know how you locked the door. Your hands were shaking so badly as tears blurred your vision. All the emotions the violin had pulled from you returned, overwhelming you in their intensity. 
The instrument had done as advertised. It had shown the truth of your heart, putting it on display for the whole world to see. Gods you were an idiot. Why did you even pick up that damned thing? 
You kept your ears open, listening as everyone made their way to their rooms. Their murmurs never made it past the walls, but the way they paused as they passed your door made it clear enough they were discussing you. Thankfully they were kind enough to leave you be. 
Counting, you waited until all six doors shut before rising to your feet. 
As you did, you felt a small pull at the back of your mind. A vision of a door number and the feeling of anticipation sat on your tongue. The invitation was clear enough; Astarion was waiting for you. 
You wanted to ignore it, but you knew you couldn’t. There was no use in pretending any longer. The game was over and you would have to face the consequences.
With a steeling breath, you walked out the door. You could only hope Astarion wouldn’t hate you when it was all over.
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feral-ballad · 1 month
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“My name is Nour Saqer, for the name remains when all is lost. I turned 22 years old last November. Yes. My youthful time was wasted on horrible days. Yes. Those days still continue.
My name is Nour Saqer. And I am 22 years old. I am a fifth-year dental student at Al-Azhar University of Gaza. I am an aspiring student. I am eager and passionate about my studies. Until the last minute, I was allowed to stay at my house on Oct. 7th. 2023 I was still working on a scientific research proposal that was supposed to be published by me and my teammates of young researchers late in November, that year.
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This picture of me was taken late 2022 during an international dental conference held in campus.
During my college years alone. Me and my family have had to forcefully evacuate, and run out of our house four times. In 2019, 2021, 2022, and finally in 2023. Each time was in fear of the same threat; meeting our deaths under rubble. My name is Nour Saqer. And I have always been a Gazan. Each of those past times. If we were fortunate enough, we would discover that our home was in repairable damage. There would be a roof over our heads still. We were still fortunate. We still had luck.
But ever since October 7th. I haven't returned home. We were among the first families to evacuate Al-Rimal neighborhood from the very first day of this genocide, we had to turn our backs to it and expect no return. Two floors of my family house, along with my father's store, and only source of income, have been severely destructed due to neighboring missiles. And my university buildings were heavily exploded. All forms of life have been reaped from my city. My hometown.
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This is what's left of our campus. I was supposed to have my graduation ceremony here.
My name is Nour Saqer. And I had an enthusiastic heart. And an energetic body. I played sports and walked down every street until I couldn't. I loved my family and friends dearly. I wrote poems about them. I spent time loving them and cherishing their presence. I loved life with all its little things. With all its unattainable things. I loved the grass and the tall buildings. And I loved all people. I loved my people. All their faces. All their talents. All their hidden lives. All we shared. Until we didn't. Everything I have ever loved I lost.
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This picture of me was taken during a happy moment on the roof of our house.
This is all that is left of that picture now.
I am currently sheltered in Rafah with my family of 7. Sharing a place with 30 other homeless people. By the end of Ramadan, me and my family would have to evacuate and seek shelter for yet the 8th time due to housing problems. I am so tired of not having any sense of stability. Nothing to guarantee. Nothing to call my own. Every passing minute the situation in Rafah gets worse. Every passing minute I am losing loved ones and relatives. Every passing minute costs me my sanity. Costs me health. Costs me my basic rights to simply live.
I have nothing left to lose or pay the price with except for my life.
I don’t know how to retell my life story in limited words, how to make the most ordinary moments sound precious. How do I equate my value to someone deserving a life of safety? How do I shape myself as someone worth saving?
I have been interviewing myself for days. All my stories are choking me. All my grief is piling up and muting me. I keep trying to find a way to present the best of myself. To make myself someone you'd want to look at. Listen to. And even more,
Help.
I am finally placing both hope and faith in your helpful hands. I am asking you. Please put an end to this continuing tragedy. And help me get to safety. Before it's too late.
It should be in your knowledge that:
It costs $5,000 per person to get out of Rafah through the Boarder Crossing to Egypt. The rest of the donations will be to secure my tution money for the fifth and final year of dental school.
Thank you.”
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feyascorner · 3 months
Note
Imagine Tav who has a thing for deep voices (ahem Astarion’s when he gets all low and breathy and AHHHHH) and he notices. I’d combust
AGLAGKJL I HAVE OTHER REQUESTS BUT I SAW THIS AND I HAD TO WRITE IT IMMEIDATELY HES JUST SOOO....also warning this is a bit suggestive nothing terrible but i also haven't written anything other than fluff and angst in ages so i might be a little rusty....
You have barely any breath left in your lungs, and you think you wouldn't mind dying this way. He shoves the door to your shared room open with his back as you push him through it, lips molding against his in a heated wave of passion. Your fingers entangle themselves in his white curls, pulling at them just gently enough to draw out a low groan from his throat, and in an instant, he has your back pressed against the wall, both hands holding either side of your face as if it's the last time he'll get to touch you.
And as much as you wouldn't mind dying from suffocation here, being ever so perceptive, he pulls away to lean his forehead against your own, watching as your chest heaves up and down in a helpless attempt to catch your breath. He pinches one of your cheeks. "It's a relief that one of us needs air to remain conscious. If you were to become like myself, I'm not confident we'd actually ever stop."
"I never said we needed to stop," you say breathlessly.
"You don't need to tell me," he leans forward to press his lips against the area where he usually sinks his teeth into your neck. Instead of the familiar prick, all you feel are his cool lips peppering kisses on your skin. "Your body, and how it responds to me...it does all the talking for you."
And much to your embarrassment, his words are sent straight to the hammering of your heart. It must be the way he says it---so softly, yet rough. Teasing, yet honest. Low enough to drop his voice an octave but not enough to take away its usual charm. And the worst is the breathiness adorning his very words. For someone who doesn't need to breathe, he certainly sounds like he does it a lot.
You feel him nip at a sensitive spot of your neck and practically yelp, earning a snicker from the culprit in front of you.
"Your heart's beating quite fast, darling," he says slowly, almost in a whisper. "Are just a few words enough to rile you up so much?"
You remain silent, afraid all sanity you have left will snap if you dare to speak.
"But that's not all, is it? No, my sweet, you only feel this way about my words because I'm the one saying it," you can hear the grin in his tone. He pulls away from your neck, lifting his head back where he can meet your eyes. "Do you like when I say things like this? Vulnerable? Sensual? Seductive?--"
You slap your palms across his mouth, heat practically radiating off of your face, as you feel his fangs through his smile. He knows, you think, face paling. He knows how you respond to just his stupid voice, and you know him more than enough to expect the worst from the power you've given him. It's humiliating almost---but more than anything, you want him to shut up. To stop talking to you in that way that brings butterflies to your stomach, to stop looking at you as if you're the most desirable person in all of Faerun, to stop just existing in the moment---
Astarion gently pries your hands away from his face, satisfaction more than apparent in his expression. "No use being bashful now. I'm not offended at all. If anything, I'm rather flattered to know you find even my voice as attractive as the rest of me."
"Please stop talking."
"You don't mean that, clearly."
You grab a nearby pillow and smush it against his cheek, pushing him away.
With a soft laugh, he takes the pillow from your hands, placing it beside him to look at you properly. You want to hide away in a hole forever, but you can't do much other than look to the ground, beyond embarrassed. His obvious amusement doesn't do much to soothe you.
"Look at me, darling."
"Hells no."
"Will you listen if I whisper it to you?"
You shoot him a glare, and he laughs again.
So instead of convincing you any further, he takes either of your hands. His voice is low again, and you swear he's doing it on purpose. "We all have our quirks, my love. I enjoy drinking your delicious blood in our nights of passion, and you enjoy listening to my wonderful voice during them."
"Did you just compare this to being a vampire?"
"This and that. Same thing."
The quirk of your brow is enough to tell him of your annoyance, making him squeeze your hand with a grin. You'd throw him out if he weren't so pretty. Those long lashes, the white curls, that irritatingly beautiful shade of his eyes...Gods, you're helpless. But something tells you that the feeling is mutual. Wordlessly, you find yourself leaning closer again, and his grin stretches wider. "So talking lowly does seem to work its charm on you."
You snort, rolling your eyes. "Shut up and kiss me."
"As you wish."
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doki-doki-imagines · 4 months
Note
Happy new Year! I wanted to request an Reader with healing powers by touching,healing the boys of Mortal Kombat pls?
author note: Thanks! Happy new Year to you too!! As someone studying to become a doctor this request is a little to perfect LOL. feat. Earthrealm guys for my own sanity this time, but if you want you can also ask for Outworld ones.
Johnny Cage: -He doesn't believe in your powers AT ALL. -I'm not saying Johnny can't wait to hurt himself, because pain sucks, but he may get a bit careless… -He's gonna cut his finger with paper, the most stupid wound that sting like a bitch. -He visits you, you don't laugh at him, just touch his index with yours and…voilà! No wounds anymore. -He is stunned, mouth open. You absolutely need to come to Hollywood and let people pay, you know how rich you can get?? -Johnny will be attached to your hips, wounds or not. If he can't get you out your clinic he wants at least a date with the cute doctor.
Kenshi Takahashi: -He visited you after the Mileena accident. -Sadly you can't regrow new eyes, being able to heal just from tissue that is alive. -That doesn't mean you can't help him soothing his pain! Or decrease the itch he feels from the skin that grew there. -Kenshi visits you frequently, not just for medical reasons but also to share a cup of tea together, your chats a relaxing moment during frenzy times.
Raiden: -He doesn't visit you often, but when Raiden does he has a kind voice, even with broken bones and teared skin. -Luckily most of the time Raiden wounds aren't that serious, but he tends to prolong his stay in your clinic. -At times he felt asleep on the bed, heavy breath and some times snores. -He is so cute you never wake him up, but pulling a cover on his body to keep him warm and comfortable.
Kung Lao: -He has never been proud of the wounds and scar that he has, but at least now Lao can see the positive side of the bruises; visiting you. -You don't say he is dumb, and treats him with utmost care, your soft fingers on his skin make his heartrate speed up terribly. -Lao hopes you don't notice, hiding his real emotions under puns and flirty jokes. -You can totally feel Lao's heart, but find him cute, trying to sputter out puns to make you laugh, so you let him act.
Liu Kang: -He asked you to help at Wu Shi Academy because he knew about your powers. -Liu Kang made sure you had a tiny house of your own, separated from training grounds, but near enough to run to you in case of emergency. -He doesn't suffer of any injury, but he often visits you to ask if you are fine, just chit chatting about your days. -Every time Liu Kang visits you he brings a present, each time it gets more expensive. Maybe one day you'll pick up the signals, or maybe you could heal his broken courage; it has been awhile since Liu Kang asked someone out.
Geras: -He also doesn't need any kind of healing, but when someone is wounded he runs to you. -Most of the time you talk about work, you tried to pry informations about the you of other timelines but Geras never budges. -So you started to gossip with him, useless stuff, but you know he'll never tell the secrets out. -He listens to you, already knowing everything, but Geras enjoys your company so he sits still, your voice almost lulling him.
Bi-Han: -Doesn't trust you, he has never heard of healing magic. -But there you are, on your knees, him laying on the ground, your fingers repairing every cut, every wounds on his body with a mere touch. -Bi-Han starts to visit you more often, he wants to know your secret, the Lin Kuei's doctors could only improve with your guide. -You laugh at his proposal, telling him this is a gift you have since you were born and that you prefer your magic to be of everyone usage, not only his ninjas. -He scowls and exits your house. But Bi-Han won't give up, he'll convince you one day, he is sure of it.
Kuai Liang: -He doesn't have the time to have doubts about your powers because the first time Liang heard of you is the time you are healing him. -Now it is too late to heal his face scar, but for sure you can help him with his other wounds. -Liang begs you to join Shirai Ryu, but you refuse "You are good people, but my power is for everybody, not just your clan." -He accepts it…and trasfer Shirai Ryu base near your house, enough that if his men needs help you'll be right there. -And maybe Liang would be able to visit you not only for work matters…
Tomas Vrbada: -He visits you mostly because everybody is talking about your powers. -Tomas brings food, while you prepare a hot beverage for you two. You chat about your days, 'till Tomas finally asks you the question that has been wandering in his head for too long. -"So, are your powers real?" -You smirk into the cup, but don't reply. You take a knife and do a small cut on the back of your hand, you are so fast that Tomas cannot stop you. -He cannot also because the moment a drop of blood spill the wound has already healed itself. -Tomas is astonished, wide eyes. -"You are so damn cool." -You hope he'll visit you more often, you enjoys his company. Let's hope Tomas will never come for working matters, tho.
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larytello · 2 years
Note
(( is the rest a 2% chance at finding it? ))
That depends...?
There's some good bunch of stuff about my old OCs posted somewhere in the depths of this Tumblr account and a few other sideblogs or actually other blogs I own (like Kouri Turtles and/or Neat Saviors, though this last one isn't much about OCs) I made a new sideblog to try and get back into RPing or just interacting through asks, but it's nowhere near ready yet. I haven't touched it in a couple ages by now. My friend Myrna is so gonna kill me at some point because of that lmao
I have a lot of things about my OCs that's just been in my mind and I never did anything about it.
And then there's the new Transformers OCs I have created during these last pandemic years, especially in the last 10 months or so, but the only thing one can find online so far is my fanfiction "Back To Life". I actually have planned like three fanfics + some side stories like spin offs and extra/bonus stuff, I have been coming up with ideas, lore, plots, developing the characters and stuff, I even drew some cool artworks and doodles and didn't publish them because they would be spoilers about the fanfics, BUUUUUT, ONLY ONE OC HAS MADE IT INTO THE STORY SO FAR. Others will come up soon, but the whole shit I have planned will flesh out only when I begin publishing the second fanfic.
Which I didn't start writing yet because I'm busy re-writing the first one as I publish it.
Which means everything I've been planning will take ages to come to light.
:')
I''d be happy to post more about all these little shits living rent free in my brain but I'm still trying to actually find my will to stay online. Most of my social media has been like a ghost town lately and I have no strength to keep creating content in a pace fast enough to be relevant in the eyes of the all-mighty algorithm which decides if you're worth exposition in the search tools or not. I feel no motivation to do anything about all this, it's annoying tbh.
Also thanks for the ask, I wasn't expecting anyone to be up now, it's past 3 AM here and it's one of those times when I really don't see anyone active/online... Wow
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sh1-n0bu · 1 year
Note
I am such a simp for Scara Nobu omg. I'm in love with him being AFAB 🥹
Thinking about him cumming completely untouched just from your praise :(( He needs to hear it so badly, he's your good boy and just wants you to say it all the time <33
-👖
♡︎ 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙧 ♡︎
characters: AFAB!sub!scaramouche x nb!dom!reader
warnings: praise, markings, dirty talk, praise, degrading, thigh riding, cumming untouched, virgin scara my beloved<3
notes: currently on my last fucking line of sanity as i think of transmasc scara squeezing the life outta me with his thighs
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wanderer, formerly known as balladeer or scaramouche, was not exactly the most gentle of lovers. he’s always on the defensive, ready to protect himself whether it be verbally or physically. years of trauma, torture and manipulation at the hands of the second fatui harbinger - il dottore - doing nothing to soothe his harsh personality and snappy attitude.
he hated everyone and everything. each and every disgusting trace of emotion other than hatred and sadistic glee being frowned upon, slightest bit of gentle touch met with a harsh glare and a smack. yes, he hates everything.
everything and everyone except you.
he doesn’t really remember how it all started, how the swirling emotions of affection in his chest started. perhaps it was when he first met you when you were with the traveler, during his mission of finding out about the truth of the stars and meteors?
maybe during the lantern rite when the two of you stumbled upon each other as he held his bleeding side, denying your kindness of treating his wounds verbally but never doing anything to live up to his words?
he doesn’t remember and frankly he doesn’t care, not when his smaller frame is sitting on your lap, greedily whining as he chases after your lips in a drunken haze.
his own lips was already cherry red, swollen with small hints of blood, giving chase every time you pull away with a low whimper of a plea slipping from his mouth. his white and blue fabricated kimono top already sitting discarded at the edge of your shared bed, shorts halfway taken off, pooling at his ankle as he grinds himself on your thigh with a bright blush.
"hey now, let me breathe for a bit darling" tugging on his short, messy purple locks, guiding him away from yourself you took deep breaths in and out. wanderer whined at that - stupid oxygen. keeping him away from his lover.
taking your other hand in his smaller one, he guided it towards his side where the zipper to his bodysuit is - silently begging you to undress him. understanding his silent, unexpressed words you fulfilled his wishes, fingers grabbing at the zipper of his bodysuit, slowly pulling them down as your lover wiggled on your thighs with a beautiful deep shade of red blooming on his cheeks.
slipping your hand under his tight bodysuit, you felt him jolt at the sudden feeling of your fingers brushing on his sensitive nub. a quiet, poorly muffled whine escaped his throat as his hips bucked when you decided to give an experimental tug to his puffy nipple.
"ooh? so you like having your nipples played? who knew my sweet little kuni was such a whore" tugging down the turtleneck collar of his bodysuit, you bit down on his sensitive spot of jugular between his neck and shoulder, making the puppet in your arms whimper loudly. face burning up in shame, wanderer wanted to deny your words but deep down he knew it was true. especially with his body reacting so deliciously to each and every last one of your touch on him.
"aww you're this wet for me already? just from a simple tug on your nipples dear?" feeling his wetness soaking through his bodysuit and wetting your pants, you couldn't help but coo at his adorable flushed face. pinching and tugging on his sensitive bud, you leaned down to wrap your lips around his other nipple through his bodysuit. at that, wanderer let out a moan, gazing down at you with a completely red face, a hand over his mouth to muffle his noises. archons, this was all so perverted but he would be lying if he said he didn't like it.
"aanh... w-wait [name]~ wait wait wai-!! mmngh!♡︎" squealing as he threw his head back, your sweet lover spasmed. hips bucking on your thighs before a sudden wetness soaked through your pants more. did he just-?
letting go of his sensitive nipple, you looked up to gaze upon wanderer's face burning up in shame with tears welling up in his pretty blue eyes. hiding his face in your shoulders he let out a whine before asking you a question that made you giggle.
"can we do that again...?"
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Control 18+ Ft: Shuji Hanma, Taiju Shiba, & Ran Haitani WC:1400+ Resident: @enchantedforest-network Synopsis: You belong to them and they have to remind you that when you start to act out. They will put you in your place and you won't fight them doing so. (I wouldn't fight them not one bit 💀) TW: Masturbation (F! reader receiving), Morally Grey Men, Possessive Behavior, Choking, fingering, finger sucking, pet names (baby girl, brat), slight stalking, degrading names (slut), calling them daddy, strong language, dominating trait from the three men, jealousy, you belong to them.
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Hanma
“Tsk tsk like I told you to keep your legs open for me.” Hanma cooed in your ear. Your back pressed against his chest.
Your panties were tossed on the floor. Your legs spread slightly open. The way his fingers brush between your slits causes you to squirm uncontrollably. Hanma leaned over your shoulder, his golden eyes gazing at his tattooed hand between your legs. “Just the slightest touch is making you quiver this much?” the cocky tone left his devilish lips as he could feel your juices on the tips of his fingers. 
The way he did it was always a teasing matter, he knew it drove you crazy. “Stop teasing me so much.” biting back the moans as your eyes closed savoring this sinful touch his fingers could do to you. It was hard to separate yourself from him, he came and went when he felt like it. The consistency was never there when you really needed him. You said to yourself you were finally done putting up with his bullshit and mind games. You even questioned your own sanity wondering if he even loved you? If he did… he had a strange way of showing it to you. When you decided to go out with someone different you wouldn’t have guessed he followed you and your company the entire evening. 
Your company wouldn’t even make it into your apartment when Hanma finally had enough of what he liked to call the ‘little game’ you were playing. The poor guy didn’t know what hit him (literally). Hanma with a look in his eyes you could describe them as dangerous and yet sexy, almost making you want to get on your knees in front of him ready to take your punishment. 
 You were putty in the palm of Hanma’s hands and you hated how vulnerable he could make you feel and yet you wanted him to touch you more. Just like a drug, you couldn’t get enough. 
 “Just remember I’m the only one that can make you feel this good.” his fingers pushing more between your slits “Your pretty little cunt is mines and mines only. You thought I was kidding when I said no one else could touch you?” his long slender fingers sliding into your moisten cunt feeling the warmth of your walls. “See I can’t leave you alone for a few days without you acting like such a little slut….You disappointed me.”
“I’m-I’m sorry.” you whimpered as his fingers were pumping in and out of you. His fingers are getting nice and coated with your sweet nectar. “Oh fuck please don’t stop.”
“And if I do? How badly do you want it, my little slut?” 
“Bad Shuji baby~~” you whimpered.
“Tell me who you belong to?” The possessive tone was making its appearance in his voice. He added another finger into your warm little cunt.
“Shuji Hanma~~~” tossing your head back slightly against the lanky man.
Taiju 
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Taiju watched you avoid direct eye contact. “We are not done talking.”
“I’m done talking.” You shot him a quick look and began walking to the shared room. You began undoing the expensive dress he bought you just a few days ago for this special event. Where he was sitting, he clicked his tongue and began rolling up his sleeves getting up from his seat following you to the bedroom. 
‘god damn brat.’ Taiju being the observant man a few hours prior the dress looked great on you but he noticed some more unwanted looks. Even Taiju overheard a conversation about you and your dress with a few men he knew. He fucking hated how they were speaking about you. He just wanted to rip their throats out. It took every inch of him to control himself and not make a spectator of himself just like he did when he was younger. You were enjoying yourself but it was being cut short by him. When you asked him he didn’t give you an answer but simply moved you towards the exit. It frustrated you because he wouldn’t even tell you the reason and that's when you became more sassy with him. You weren’t going to look at him. 
It wouldn’t take long for you to hear his footsteps enter your bedroom. The dress slides down your frame as you reach for your silk robe placing it on. “Like I said we are not done talking you damn brat.”
“And I say we are.” you picked up the dress and placed it on the back of the chair. 
It was driving him crazy that you wouldn’t look at him. The large structure man walks towards you. In a quick motion, you were pinned between him and the wall. His large hand pinning both of your hands above your head. Still avoiding to look at him “Even pinning your hands above your head you still can’t look at me.” his large hand was around your neck applying enough pressure to get your attention. “Apparently, I need to wrap my hand around that pretty neck of yours to have you look at me like a good girl.”  Taiju's eyes focused on yours as they traveled to his hand around your neck. He felt his growing bulge forming in his pants. “Look what you do to me. Getting me all worked up..” his voice was low raspy the hint of his bourbon mixed with the cigarette he was smoking lingered on his breath. 
“Now… Are you going to listen to me when I tell you to do something?” he asked you. You didn’t argue as you nodded. “I can't hear you.” the slightly taunting in his voice. 
“Yes daddy.” your eyes are still on his.
“Good girl… Now get on your knees for me and show Daddy how much you love him.”
Ran
Sitting on his lap, it was becoming more apparent he was looking at your left hand more. His fingers seem to play with the ringless ring finger. Ran began picturing what kind of ring he was planning on placing on your finger. “Something on your mind Ran?” Looking at the violet eye lover. His eyes drifted from your ring finger to your doe-eyed expression. “Thinking about what kind of ring will look good on your finger baby girl. I think it’s been long overdue and I want to get it now.” 
You cocked your brow at him “Really now?” with a playful smirk “What makes you think I will wear it now?”
“As my future wife, it will be suitable. You would want to wear the ring your future husband bought now wouldn’t you?” Your fingers combed through his soft smooth short hair. “If I don't?” 
“You will, I will make sure of it.” He reached for your fingers intertwining them with his. Sliding you off his lap onto the couch, his hand still intertwined with yours. You were sliding lower onto the couch as he was hovering over you. “You and I both know well if I place a collar around your neck you wouldn’t remove it or just like when you ride my face until you cum. No one is capable of taking you from me either.”  
He had you right there. No doubt in his mind and he was right you wouldn’t decline anything he wanted to do. He would be able to convince you to walk down the street in lingerie if he wanted to. He had this sort of power over you and it always made you cave in. “I get it, Ran. You know I’m teasing Ran.” you playfully said, “I’m yours.”
Other than the three words he loved hearing, he also loved those two words  “Say it again baby girl.” Lowering his head lower towards your lips lightly brushing against yours. The light touch of his light sent a tingling sensation throughout your body.  
“I’m yours.”  You lifted your head slightly as your lips pressed against his. 
“That’s my girl~” Ran smoothly said to you. Ran freed his hand from yours, his index finger brushing against your bottom lip. The tip of your tongue lightly brushes against the tip of his finger. With no asking from him, your lips began sucking on his finger. “I bet you would be sucking me off so good just like always a baby girl. Seeing those pouty lips around my cock how you take me inch by inch.” he continued to watch you suck on his finger.
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Interested in joining the taglist please fill out the form below to get a notification of your favorite characters when they are being posted! Link here ->taglist
Tagging: @the-haitani-baton, @satanlovesusall666, @galactict3a, @ratlovecat, @niko-ash, @iluv-ace, @captainmycaptainn, @strawberrychrome, @missgab, @anxious-chick, @livefromraleigh, @kei-b-gurlll, @spookiisopium, @bontensbabygirl, @txna04, @intheafterall, @stygianoir, @kira-rrh, @intheafterall, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nightqueensk, @alexanderlightwoodii, , @sintyu, @missgab, @elmakimaki_ , @hana-patata, @ancient-vivarium @livefromnc , @mdibby @chronic-claire-universe @cxrxx @drakensdarling, @stephisokay, @lunatical, @q-the-rockaholic, @istanstraykids, @opchara, @twistedw0nd3rland3acc, @galliardsmaniac, @villsophie, @carixes
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yanxidarlings · 9 months
Text
YANDERE HP GOLDEN ERA: SLYTHERIN BOYS X DORMMATE READER
continuation of my previous post (i got caught up in getting out my anthony goldstein headcanons was it obvious). okay so full disclosure, i haven't read the fanfictions lorenzo and mattheo are from (i only read yandere is it obvious) (i see their faceclaims and cannot. exclude), so if i'm not portraying them correctly shout at me. but just for a moment, imagine having the 79-80 liner slytherin boys yandere for their dormmate? (okay there is a loophole i'll write for male readers/darlings if asked).
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maybe they've known the reader/darling since childhood, and the sudden close proximity magnifies the possessive and obsessive tendencies they were developing towards the darling. or, the darling could suddenly get sorted into slytherin and now they have a roommate they did not expect to have. for the second scenario i don't think the darlings personality would matter much - either way, they're all apprehensive about this really cute kid they suddenly are dorming with.
maybe they give the reader a hard time at first (although this is only really likely to happen for a darling in a different house, or a muggleborn darling) but whoo boy if anyone else thinks of teasing the reader, they'll get hell from our dear slytherins here. actually, anyone who the reader pays mind to becomes a target of torment and bullying by draco and his gang. especially potter. please, reader, for potters own sanity and the good of the wizarding world, do not approach, think about or even look in the direction of harry. it ends in an ugly tantrum from draco, prolonged sarcasm from theodore, silence from blaise, aggression from mattheo and teasing from lorenzo. crabbe and goyle won't be carrying your books for you for the next week either.
when they get like this, it'll be the darling that'll have to make it up to them, or risk having it all drag out until one of them gets over it naturally.
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GREGORY GOYLE & VINCENT CRABBE (cast josh herdman, jamie waylett):
they're all horribly possessive and jealous by default, but generally, crabbe and goyle are the easiest to deal with, they both have a soft spot for their darling, and are pretty used to being bossed around, the second choice and having to share. they're also the easiest to appease, putting food on crabbe's plate is enough to make him happy, and paying goyle any mind will go a long way.
they don't need constant attention (draco), validation (draco), and affection (draco), from their darling, and are content just being in their life.
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BLAISE ZABINI (cast louis cordice):
after them, i honestly don't know who's worse. going in alphabetical order, blaise appears to be calm and uncaring when it comes to his darling, but do not be fooled, he's not going to sit back and let his darling get whisked away by the likes of a half blood (sorry mattheo), spolit daddy's boy (apologies draco), spolit mommy's boy (soz enzo) or someone who's one lab accident away from becoming a supervillain (blaise's words not mine theo).
blaise tolerates the rest of the slytherins for now, but if any of them think he'd ever fully agree to sharing with the likes of them, they are wrong. he fantasises about taking his darling away from the world after graduating, and probably has his mother trying to arrange a marriage the moment he decides they're his.
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DRACO MALFOY (cast tom felton):
unlike blaise, draco is not even a little bit subtle about his possesiveness over his darling, he only see's the other slytherins as tools to ensure his darlings safety and happiness at hogwarts, and does not bother to pretend like he isn't planning to kidnap move the reader into malfoy manor the minute they graduate. actually, he couldn't wait that long.
he'll look for any opportunity to have the malfoy family gain custody of his darling. all the more better if his darling comes from a dysfunctional household. but either way, he'll make sure his family is all they have to turn to.
all i know about lorenzo is that he has mommy and daddy issues so i'll have to piggybank off that. he'll present himself as the 'sane' one, if his darling is complaining about the behaviour of the other slytherins, enzo wholeheartedly agree's with them "i don't know what's wrong with all of them - you sure you didn't slip any amortentia into their drinks?" he becomes a safe haven from the possessive obsession his dormmates seem to share for their darling.
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE (fancast louis patridge):
lorenzo acts the most normal, but don't be fooled, he's just as obsessed as the rest of them. enzo is just better at hiding it. he too, frequently thinks about whisking them away, but is much less finite about it; holing his darling up in his house isn't the end goal. he could honestly live with sharing them with his fellow slytherins, but this is all assuming that the reader takes well to his attempts at becoming the 'sane one'.
if enzo isn't able to successfully befriend them, he'll have to settle for being the 'mean one'. teasing and humiliation follows his darling, as does he. it's not severe, but it's probably the push the reader needs to fall into deep depression and anxiety. so please, take the sane bait.
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MATTHEO RIDDLE (fancast benjamin wadsworth):
mattheo doesn't exactly have a family reputation to uphold, blaise, draco, enzo and theo would want to keep up a respectable reputation, whatever that is in pureblood society, but mattheo? the dark lords son? he's entirely unhinged.
if lorenzo is the 'sane one', mattheo is the 'crazy one'.
he doesn't really care what his darling, or others, think of his behaviour. if he wants to spend time with them, he's going to. he'll pull them out of class, drag them away from the other slytherins, just to skip rocks in the black lake with them, or raid the kitchens. he doesn't really bother hiding his yandere tendencies, he'll actively tell his darling not to talk to certain people "because i said so" "stop asking questions", and will refuse to elaborate further. sometimes, there will be disturbing moments of honesty between him and his darling; he'll admit that he's obsessed with them, and threaten to attack people they pay attention to. and he'll tell them that they belong to him.
sometimes it's frightening and sometimes he'll come across as sweet. he is both predictable and unpredictable, which puts his darling at unease around him.
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THEODORE NOTT (fancast lorenzo zurzolo):
theodore uses guilt to garner his darlings sympathy, all the more easier if they are childhood friends. he'll make sure they know about his harsh childhood, and make them feel responsible for his wellbeing. he's the only one to create a sense of dependency not built upon threats. out of all the slytherins, he gets to know his darling the best, he'll use guilt, emotional breakdowns and dark secrets to create a sense of obligation towards him.
theo is the most comforting of the slytherins to be around, he's quiet and the only one who they can spend time with without feeling much pressure. he demands the most of their attention, and is by far the most possessive. whilst i can see the other slytherins finding a way to deal with sharing their darling amonst themselves, if the rest don't back off eventually (stop dreaming theo) (they won't), he's the most inclined to just get rid of them - he can't stand it when his darling is around anyone but him, he wakes early to walk his darling to class just so they won't get caught up in the busy halls, where eyes can wonder and other people can have a chance to interact with his darling.
theodore pairs with them for every project, which leads to some ugly arguments between him and blaise, who only really get's his fill of his darling by sitting next to them in class. and draco, and mattheo and enzo and even goyle who was hoping the reader would help get him a good grade for once.
out of all of them, draco, goyle and blaise are the most patient. they want their darling to love them, not see them as monsters to flinch away from.
theodore, lorenzo and mattheo will take whatever they can get. lorenzo in particular doesn't want his darling to fear him but won't let them get away with trying to escape or disobedience. mattheo doesn't mind being the villain if he must be, but his heart clenches when his darling acts so obviously distrustful of him. theodore is the least patient, and if his darling starts to shy away from him, he snaps. at them, at the rest of the slytherin boys. but he's also easy to keep content, so long as his darling is always by his side.
similarly, blaise just enjoys being in the presence of his darling, and doesn't feel the need to cuddle up to them constantly like draco and enzo do. mattheo is a loose canon, and sometimes is fine being near them, other times he wants skin to skin contact 25/8.
they're hopeless at sharing, and only really get along for the sake of their darling. there are only really two ways this can end; theodore finally snaps and tries to off the rest of them after graduation, or they somehow come to an agreement on sharing, maybe they each get their own day a week
monday for draco, tuesday for blaise, wednesday for theo, thursday for enzo, and friday for mattheo. goyle and crabbe probably aren't taken seriously enough to get given their own day, so then the weekends are spent sharing (fighting).
the only time the boys will work in tandem is when someone attempts to take their darling and their attention, away. best example, darling starts dating someone. which is already pretty improbable, considering they give the reader no alone time whatsoever. but let's just say the darling here is going on a date with cormac mclaggen (get a grip, darling), any grudges they've been holding against each other are off, mclaggen has just signed his death warrant.
mattheo and theodore do most of the dirty work, whilst lorenzo distracts the reader. draco and blaise cover up their tracks, so it seems like whatever they did to mclaggen was an untimely accident. or have it blamed on someone else. goyle and crabbe intimidate anyone who tries to get close to the darling from then on.
they might hate sharing with each other, but they truly despise sharing with an 'outsider'.
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