Latest Posts by kitty-kei - Page 2

emotions be damned

Shout out to that character who acts boastful, egotistical, and confident at times because in reality they have severe anxiety and trauma. You know, the one that’s a large public figure that has an abusive boss who leads them to believe they aren’t worth anything without them? They also are in love with a different character who has a smooth deep voice. You don’t know who I’m referring to? Oh, okay.

Besties get Banged

Angel Dust x FemReader Smut

➽─❥Angel Dust x MaleReader Smut version

You didn’t think Angel liked you the way you did him, how could you? While sharing a profession, he was nothing like you. He was the star in every room he entered. After being booked on a shoot together, you find maybe Angel wasn’t so ignorant to your existence.

Warning/Promises: Angel x Reader do not fuck but they do get banged, Val is going to ruin shit but I ain’t writing that part, Foursome but no one cares, handjob, cum countdown 💦, masturbation, making out, porno, vaguely threatening ending from Val

minors dni (👁️👄👁️🔪)

When Angel Dust slipped into the dressing room of Val’s ‘sex dungeon’, you struggled to keep your smile down. You’d never actually worked together. The two of you had attended the same awards shows, frequented the same clubs, danced the same stages. But never graced the same screen. Every encounter left you more and more enthralled. Always the life of the party, but when the crowds would die down Angel would become so sweet, talking with an emotional intelligence many sinners seemed to have lacked or intentionally abandoned at death.

Angel threw himself at many people, sometimes jokingly, sometimes not. But you’d be lying to say it didn’t sting he’d never propositioned you.

“Mornin’,” he plopped into the make-up chair beside you, hand lazily combing through his bedhead.

Angel hoped you hadn’t seen him pause when he saw you. He didn’t get butterflies often, but you always managed to make his stomach flutter. He felt so silly, a kid with a crush.

You knew Val wasn’t going to let it be just the two of you. He enjoyed watching you both get fucked too much. ‘Besties get Banged’ was written on the clapperboard. Angel gave you a wink, “Ooh besties! Is this work or just another Friday night?” His elbow hit a soft spot in your ribs, making you laugh.

“Stop— st-stop that. Get on the bed.” Val used all four arms to separate you, “Bitch number 1 on the left side, Bitch number 2 on the right.” He sat in his chair, arm angrily motioning for the large demons to enter the set already.

It was a standard enough shoot, until you and Angel found yourselves both on your knees, eye to eye from across the pink heart shaped bed. One yellow and one black eye looking back at you, hazy with pleasure as he was fucked dumb by some piece of muscle with a dick attached.

He looked so beautiful when he felt good. You reached out your hand to him, then the other. Fingers laced together, you both moaned into the space between yourselves. Angel’s eyebrows rose up, tongue coming out. His face was so flushed, cheeks pink. You weren’t sure it was an invitation, but you pulled yourself to him and ran your tongue over his. The demon behind you followed your body, trying to maintain contact.

Angel’s eyes rolled closed, tongue pushing into your mouth. The kiss interrupted again and again as the repeated pounding into your holes pulled your lips apart, your entire bodies moving in rhythm.

“Hey!,” Val yelled, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Angel smiled at you, “Whats the matter Val?” He strained forward, capturing your mouth again.

“Stop kissing! You’re ruining it!”

“You never kissed a bestie? Awww,” Angel kept his lips near yours. “Val’s never had a real good friend before.”

Val’s antennae bristled, “Pull em apart, they’re making googly eyes at each other. Killing my fucking hard on. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

Your bodies were slid away, fingertips still reaching out to each other. You were flipped onto your back, pacing brutal as if making up for lost time.

Angel watched you, mouth lonely. His cock leaking from just a kiss. Reaching down, he began to stroke himself while enjoying his own personal show. Your body bouncing with the thrusts, eyes watery. He arched his back, looking across to where your body connected with the other demon. You looked so wet, so inviting.

“Angel!” Val seethed.

Angel’s closed his eyes, imagining you around his cock and not his fingers. His eyes shot open when he felt hands on his face. His fear dissolved into relief as he saw you had scooted back towards him, pulling him down for an upside-down kiss. Breath hot, he moaned into your mouth.

“Uh Boss, should we stop em again? It’s kinda hot.” The shark demon behind Angel slowed.

Your fingers slipped through his hair, bringing him deeper into your kiss. There was nothing else in the room anymore but you and Angel. Tongue rolling over tongue, breathy moans exhaled and inhaled.

Val shook his head, “Let the little sluts kiss. If they wanna ruin my shoot so badly, be my guests.” His eyes aglow, Valentino exhaled his toxic smoke throughout the studio, sinister grin spreading across his face.

The demons continued as directed, you and Angel not having noticed the interruption you had caused. Angel’s mouth left yours, head resting on the mattress.

“Val’s going to kill us,” you tried to remember the name of the wolf demon pounding into you, knowing you had some sort of lines.

Angel’s teeth nipped your ear lobe, “He’s gonna do that anyway.”

You moaned, “Feels good when you do that.”

“Yeah?” The wolf asked. You wanted to kick him in the neck.

“Uuh, yeah. You… fuck me so good, Daniel.”

“Donny.” He corrected.

Angel got back on his elbows, “Literally no one cares, David.” Whispering now, “Roll over and come ‘ere.”

Douglas didn’t seem bothered, you using your feet to stop him and twisting around his cock to get back on your knees. The demons whose names neither of you cared to learn followed you again. Angel was pressed into you, two arms holding you against his body, one arm on your cheek, a fourth finding its way to your clit.

You gasped, Angel licking up your neck and chin as his hand expertly rubbed you. Regaining some bit of your brain, you reached down a hand to his cock. It was slapping against this stomach in time with the thrusts. Your hand only need to grip him, the other actor basically fucking him into your grasp.

Angel’s head craned down, sucking bruises into your collar bone, “I wanna fuck you so bad, it hurts.” Another whisper into your skin.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” your words faded in and out, volume jumping as your pussy took hit after hit. Angel’s hand electrifying every part of your body.

Angel pulled you as close as he could, bringing your hand from his cock to hold in his. Now him and his pre-cum were rubbing along your stomachs, pressed together tightly. “Wrong. So wro-uh.” Eyes rolling back, Angel’s words fell apart.

“You close?”

He nodded.

“Want me to count you down?”

A more frantic nod.

“Five”

You leaned in to kiss at his neck.

“Four”

A long drag of your tongue up to his ear.

“Three”

A kiss to his cheek.

“Two”

You bit at his lip, pulling it with you before letting it go.

“One”

Angel clenched his eyes, grip on you tightening as he came across your stomach, thick and hot. You heard the other actor moan, Angel’s ass tightening with his release.

You took the chance to kiss Angel again, lips soft and swollen from the long shoot. His cum dripped down your stomach and found its way to his hand, adding more lubrication to your wet pussy. Angel’s fingers eagerly used his seed to slip and slide over your clit.

The feeling pushed you into your orgasm, legs shaking as you tried to stay up. “For fuck’s sake,” Val could be heard shouting just past the studio lights.

Drawing him in for another kiss, less deeply now, lips sometimes on lips, and sometimes the chin and the cheek.

You stayed, holding each other, through the shoot. The other actors finishing their parts, cumming and making some puns about bosom buddies. When everyone else left the scene, and you two broke apart your hungry mouths to consider getting cleaned up and dressed, the air grew thick around you. Heads swimming now, a horny haze fell on set.

“Bravo, bitches. You ruined my shoot, only fair I get to ruin something now.” You both turned to see the lights gleaming off Val’s glasses. “Where should I start?”

༻Masterlist༺

My general tag list is called the Horny Little Deer Cult! To be tagged, you are more than welcome to ask to join

👿🌈😇

Finally it's done T^T

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

☒ Summary: "Alastor said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel looked puzzled. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?" 

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with no comfort sorry, tons of confusion for alastor and the reader, one kiss, very suggestive language (its from angel- are we surprised?), slight self harming (alastor), blood, tears, arguing, desprate!alastor, toxic themes, split pov (second devider is when alastor's pov starts!)

☒ Word Count: 2,653

"You- WHAT?" 

Angel shot up from his spot on your bed. His eyes widened, eyebrows knitting in perplexity.

"I know- I know! It's bad... but I wasn't thinking clearly!" You slumped under Angel's judgemental gaze, pulling your knees up to your chest from where you sat on your bed. 

"Toots, there is no way his pussy eating skills are good enough to fuck you that dumb!" You averted your gaze. Heat rose to your cheeks from Angel's crass words.

"Oh, but they are..." You mumbled before you felt two of Angel's hands grip your shoulders, shaking you out of frustration.

"Did you really have to pick an absolute psychopath to be the one to pop your cherry? Toots, you're gorgeous. You could have anyone you want!" You were flustered beyond comprehension as Angel stopped shaking you. Opting to glare at your heated face instead. 

"We didn't go all the way! Plus he's the one who's been pursuing me all this time- I didn't get it at first, and I still don't. But-" Your expression morphed into one of contemplation. Angel's jaw went slack as he impatiently awaited your next words. "But what?! Spit it out!"

"He said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel nudged you to the side before slotting himself atop your bed once more. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?" 

You froze. 

Angel's inquiry filled your mind with more questions than answers. 

"I... not much," You paused, turning to face Angel before you continued. "The earliest memory I have is waking up in a hospital bed after surviving a blow to the head from some hunting accident." 

You closed your eyes, wracking your brain for every last detail you could remember; no matter how small. "I ended up falling into a coma only days after that mishap. The next thing I know, I'm in fucking hell." You chucked bitterly. Angel let out a laugh of his own. 

"No offense, babe, but that has to be one of the saddest fuckin' things I've ever heard," Angel outstretched his legs, overlapping them atop yours. "That accident, what else can you remember about it? Maybe that's the ticket!" 

Your eyes shot open from Angel's question. "Wait... before I fell into a coma, there was this nurse- she told me that I was led into the woods by a dangerous fellow," You paused, eyes scanning Angel's wildly as he perched himself forward. Literally hanging on the edge of his seat from your musings. 

"She told me the gunshot wound saved my life, fucking ironic now because It ended up killing me anyway. She also said that... the man who took me into the woods was a serial killer who had been on the run for decades. He ended up getting shot in the head that night, also. Except he died instantly..."

Angel was hanging on to every word you uttered. He could see the pieces falling into place from your look of awe. "What was the man's name, toots? What was it?!" Angel shouted a little louder than he intended. You jolted back from his outburst, taking in a shaky breath. You replayed that memory with the nurse over and over again. 

She had to have said it at some point. 

Come on! Think, think- think!

“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That 𝘈⃒̅𝘭⃒̅𝘢⃒̅𝘴⃒̅𝘵⃒̅𝘰⃒̅𝘳⃒̅ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer.”

"His target was a nearby deer."

A deer... 

Again. 

Retrace.

"That ɹ̸o̸ʇ̸s̸ɐ̸ʅ̸Ɐ̸ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer."

Fuck- it was just out of reach. 

One more time, one more fucking time. 

Think carefully. 

"The hunter wasn’t even aiming for That A͊l͖a̪sto̶̸̅r̷̦͍ fellow. His target was a nearby deer."

You gasped sharply, startling Angel. You felt your heart sink into your stomach as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"Alastor... his name was Alastor." 

Your voice was distant as you spaced out. Angel's face blurred out of focus through your line of sight. 

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me. That freak was going to kill you when you were still alive-? And now... you belong to him? Shit- toots! This is rough... and not the good kind of rough." 

Alastor sat at the piano. Staring at the keys with that ever-present smile— but not daring to strike a tune. 

You’ve been avoiding him again.

What was it going to take for you to realize that he was your fiancé on earth? 

Sure, his features were more creature than man, but at the end of the day; Alastor was still the same man you fell in love with. 

Maybe he should have held off from his… desires. 

Could you blame him, though? He’s been waiting nearly a century to be reunited with his beloved. 

You’re the person he thought about for all these lonely years in hell. The only solace for Alastor was the notion that you survived, lived a long happy life, and inevitably made it to the pearly gates. 

So imagine his despair when you showed up at the Hazbin Hotel, looking to be redeemed. 

Alastor recognized you immediately. He could spot that grin of yours in a crowd of billions. 

Smile at the world, and she smiles back at you. 

But— you didn’t even spare him the time of day. Alastor gave you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you just needed some time to reignite your memory. 

And so, he gave you time. You’ll come around, Alastor thought. 

But he couldn’t have been more wrong, as much as he hated to admit it. 

He grew impatient— losing all of his resolve when you admitted to his voice reminding you of home. 

Alastor presumed maybe a passionate encounter would jumpstart your adoration for him. You had never breached that level of intimacy when you both were alive. You were adamant about waiting until marriage, but those dreams never came true. 

Yet even still, it was not enough. 

Was he really that forgettable to you? 

Suddenly, a knock on his door pulled him from his stupor. Alastor quickly cleared his throat, straightening his bowtie and taking steps toward his door. 

The second he swung the door open, he was met by the person who invaded his every thought; you. 

“What a pleasant surprise! Come in, my dearest.” Alastor piped up, stepping aside to let you into his safe haven. 

Your face was devoid of any vibrancy, and your eyes frantically avoided his. Alastor watched you closely as you hesitantly stepped past the threshold of his space. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alastor hummed as he shut the door before turning on his heel to face you. 

You rubbed at the sleeve of your dress nervously. Alastor’s mind instantly flashed the memory of your first meeting. 

The sight of you soothing yourself with a gentle caress to your bicep. Clammy hands seeping perspiration through that gorgeous vermilion dress of yours.  

“I-I remember you…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Legs trembling from where you stood before him.

Your words caused Alastor’s heart to race wildly. 

At long last— you remember him! 

“I knew you would, my smart girl! Ah- you have no clue how elated I am to finally hear those words leave your lips!” He invaded your personal space without missing a beat. 

Alastor’s eyebrows knitted in confusion as you dodged his hand— that had full intention of clasping around your cheek. 

“Don’t… don’t touch me.” Your voice was shrill as you took a step back from him. 

Alastor took one step forward. 

“My darling, why are you being so cold? You know how much I loathe teasing.” Alastor forced out a chuckle as you took two steps back. 

Alastor took three steps forward this time. 

“You’re sick! You’re the one who’s been teasing me all this time— how dare you?!” You spat, raising your hands to push him away, but to no avail. 

Alastor grasped your wrists with his large palms. He gazed down at you with a frenzied look, grip tightening scarcely around your wrists. “Darling… this isn’t funny anymore.” His voice was low, and the corners of his lips twitched in irritation. 

“It never was funny to begin with! I mean, how could you try to kill me on earth and then think it’s okay to fool around with me in hell?!” You glared up at him, tears of frustration now rolling down your cheeks. 

Alastor’s grip loosened from your words. He was utterly astonished. "You think I... tried to kill you?" His voice was quiet, crimson orbs frantically searching yours. 

You grimaced at him, rolling your eyes before you shouted, "You led me out into the woods, and the next thing I know, I'm in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the head and no memories before waking up in a stiff hospital bed! Everything I know about you and the accident was spoon-fed to me by some crappy nurse!"

Alastor's smile dropped. He wasn't even aware of the frown that crossed his features. The only giveaway was the absence of that standard achy feeling in his cheeks from holding an everlasting grin. "Darling, I-I'm not following... you mean to tell me you... don't remember your life before that mishap?" 

You looked puzzled by Alastor's uncharacteristic display of distress. His hands slipped from your wrists as he wobbled backward. "Yeah, and It's your fault! If you didn't haul me out into those woods to kill me, I would still remember who I was! And my whole life before all this bullshit!" 

You took a step forward. 

"I would remember my family, my career, if I even fucking had one! I would remember my joyful memories, my painful ones, and— and- maybe I would remember somebody who actually loved me!" You furiously glared up at him. Pointing your index finger into his chest in an accusatory fashion. 

Alastor snapped at your last words. 

Somebody who actually loved you?

It was him.

It was always him. 

Was his love for you really that immemorable?

"You truly aren't joking... you... don't remember me." Alastor felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. You were the last thing keeping it intact. All that he felt in his chest now was your blunt fingernail piercing his skin from where you jabbed him. 

"I just told you I do! What the fuck are you talking about?!" Alastor could tell your patience was wearing thin. You were probably just as confused as he was but for all the wrong reasons. 

Alastor's arms fell limp against his sides. Yet his fists were balled up so tightly that he could hear the pitter-patter of his blood spilling onto the carpet from how deeply his nails sunk into the flesh of his palm. 

You weren't ever going to believe the truth, but Alastor still needed to try.

"My dearest... that is not how we met. And my intentions were not and never will be to end your life." Alastor paused, taking in a shaky breath before continuing. 

"You're frustrated about not remembering somebody that loved you, yes? As am I..." You tilted your head in confusion. Finally pulling your finger away from his wounded chest. "What the fuck are you trying to say, Alastor?" Your voice was laced with annoyance, and your scowl was unwavering. 

"Darling, that somebody that loved you was me-and still is. It will always be me," Alastor paused, hands now finding purchase on your shoulders. "That accident should have never happened! We were scheduled to be wed at the courthouse later that evening... but... we never... made it..."

Why were his cheeks burning unbearably so? 

And why was your countenance blurring before his very eyes? 

Alastor's grip on your shoulders was unwavering, but his hands now trembled. Your expression was one of perplexity as you shook your head incredulously. "I loved you in life and now in death. I've loved you all this time, my sweet girl. Nothing will ever change that! Please, I beg of you- you must believe me!"

The definitive radio static crackle to his voice was nowhere to be found. Instead, his voice was laced with desperation. You looked disoriented through his blurry gaze as you took a weary step back. 

Alastor felt wetness trickle down his burning cheeks. 

Oh, he was... crying?

The last time he wept was when he first arrived in this grim place otherwise known as Hell. The realization that he left you on earth all alone tore him up. Alastor was inconsolable for years.

You truly knew how to put him together just to rip him apart all over again, huh? 

There is no undoing grander than love itself. 

"I-I don't believe you..." Your voice was just above a whisper as you slipped out of his grasp and approached the doorway. You turned your back on him, literally and metaphorically. 

Alastor didn't miss a beat. He rushed to you, large palm slamming flat against the wooden door. "We worked at the same radio station! Your bitch of a friend Elaine and her parents took you in after your pill-addict parents abandoned you on your eleventh birthday!"

You let out a sharp gasp as he hovered over you. Alastor couldn't read your expression, with your face practically pressing into the wooden door. All he could see was the top of your head as he pushed his chest into your rigid back. His arm was outstretched, keeping the door shut and caging you in entirely. 

"It was love at first sight for me! We went dancing for our first date. Did you truly fail to notice how effortlessly we moved along the dancefloor at Charlie's last gathering? It's because deep down, your body remembers every dance we ever shared,"

Alastor flipped you over faster than you could process. Your back was now flush against the sturdy door, his arm still caging you in. He peered down at you as his thumb and index finger from his non-dominant hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Every lingering touch..." 

He felt you tremble beneath his intense stare from how his chest now squashed against yours. Alastor's face dipped lower, invading your personal space. He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, breath fanning over your tear-stained cheeks. 

"And every kiss..."

Alastor observed you desperately as he pressed his lips against yours. He poured all his love into the shared embrace, hoping it would jumpstart your memory. But instead, you just shoved him away harshly, breaking away from his embrace. Alastor felt his world crumble around him as you wiped his kiss away with the back of your hand.

"You're fucking crazier than I thought!" With Alastor still reeling from the rejection, you took your leave. The sound of the door slamming thundered through his head. 

Alastor sunk to his knees. His hands came up to tug at his messy tufts of hair. Allowing the tears to flow freely now that he was completely alone.

Alastor did not think you were capable of hurting him until now. 

Alastor yanked at his locks furiously as his cheeks burned brightly in frustration. His knees quivered as his forehead kissed the carpet that was stained with his blood from earlier—when he unintentionally ripped up his palms. Alastor curled in on himself as he wept. 

This pain was worse than any other.

But more than anything, his love for you only burned brighter.

As did his determination to have you remember him and the pleasant life you both shared before all was lost. 

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff

Snap (Vox x reader smut)

Vox brainrot entry #1.5

Follow up on entry #1

A/N he falls to bits, but they take care of him in the end, I promise. He def deserves it though. If this is bad, I apologise, I've never shown the smut I've written to anyone for feedback lmao.

Probably should have done a word counter for this - it's pretty long.

Cw: 18+ NSFW fic below cut, degradation, edging, punishment, biting, overstimulation, voyeurism, switch (but ultimately bottom) Vox, domtop! reader, AFAB reader - gn pronouns, also feat my nerd ass's knowledge of flower language lmao

Idk if there's other things I should CW in here sorry (advice/correction in comments appreciated 🙏)

- It didn't take you very long to start noticing how he seemed to know what to do perfectly; gifts, gestures, dates. Even if he always played it off as a master at lying through his toothy smile, you weren't an idiot.

- You do curse yourself that you let it slide and treated it as an afterthought for several months however. It begins to become more of a conscious thing on your mind though.

- So you bait him with something so very specific that it wouldn't ever be a consideration normally for someone trying to woo you - as he had been doing for several months at this point. After you know that he's off work, you sit on your phone scrolling and click onto a post about flowers, sprawled across your lounge lazily.

- You smile at your phone and say out to the empty room as if just casually talking to yourself. "Ooo, snapdragons." He fell for it hook line and fucking sinker.

- The next morning, there is a delivery of beautifully wrapped red snapdragons at your door with a note taped to the side of it.

- You felt a mixture of disgust, anger and betrayal rise in your chest at the confirmation that he'd been violating your privacy by looking at you secretly like some fucking stalker. You push it down though, smiling for the camera (literally) and decide that you'll confront him about it later. For now you'd just act like you didn't know he was looking at you, and later on you'd be punishing him for it.

- Your sex life with him hadn't exactly moved that far due to both of your hesitation to move to become more seriously involved, not wanting to fully ruin your friendship with one-another in case it was unrequited. Only being FWB sometimes having sex essentially. But, you decided you would be getting back at him real good for this. You would be much like the flower you had caught him out with.

***

You groaned into the mutually hungry lust-drunk kiss as your lips melded against his, tongues roughly fighting for control against the other as your back was pushed against the wall by Vox who grunted deeply against your lips.

The demon's monitor provided the only light in the house as you arrived home, it serving as the most common secret rendezvous for you two to be together like this. His claws gripping at your sides slid down your thighs to grope at them before picking you up and bringing your crotch up against his steadfast arousal.

You pulled back from the kiss with a gasp at the stimulation and wrapped your legs around his hips to grind closer into one another. "You're very quickly excited just by making out as per usual." You teased him, kissing his face where his cheek should have been.

He let out an embarrassed growl as he glared down at you, the blush on his cheeks making it not hit all that hard. "Shut the fuck up."

You laughed at him as you watched him give a sharp inhale, tensing up at the way you ground your clothed pussy into his dick. You could tell by the way that his claws dug into your hips that he intended to be in control of the situation, and you inwardly grinned in satisfaction as the plan you had been sitting on for a while was finally going to be executed.

Vox slammed his lips back onto yours as he walked to your bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot impatiently and falling forward on the mattress with you gripped against him.

He sat back to begin removing all the layers he was wearing, it taking a long time as usual as he didn't like creasing his jacket or shirt - him wanting to preserve his appearance to the world outside your doors even when his hands were shaking with anticipation of what he thinks is going to be the usual fuck session for him.

And this is where you choose to shift the power dynamic, while he's expecting you to take off your shirt and lay back, you're pouncing on him and slamming his back against the bed the second his shirt, jacket as he finishes shedding his layers.

He looks up at you with surprise as the bed squeaks under the shifted weight, and then annoyance which flickers onto his features but is quickly replaced by a strained smirk. "Haha, yeah, no. That's not how this is gonna g-" you cut him off by moving to straddle him, pressing your lips against his and rolling yourself into his hard-on again. He let out a loud groan into the kiss which teetered into a slight whine.

You could feel the way he tensed up at the embarrassingly submissive sound you'd pulled from him and he moved to try to reposition himself as being in charge again, you didn't let him however as you held him in place under you.

You rhythmically began setting the pace for the two of you, and you felt him begin to relent begrudgingly and give in to his pleasure, one claw gripping your hip as he tried to alter your pace to match his, while the other came up to grab at your chest as your tongues moved against each other in a dizzyingly hot way which added to the growing arousal you felt.

You could feel your wetness seeping uncomfortably into your underwear as Vox's erection rubbing against your cunt at just the right angle sent stabs of pleasure through your body despite your pants.

You parted momentarily to let out a soft panting moan before diving back in. Vox seemed to take this as his chance to try put you under him again, gripping both hands against your sides as he turned the two of you over again, him moving to push you firmer into the mattress but you not letting him as you flipped back the other way and pulled back to look down at him. Observing his frustrated expression and slightly parted lips which were moving as he panted excitedly.

Shaking your head, lips pouted, you shook your finger at him as if scolding a child - patronising him. "Now, now, Vox. You and I both know that this is not about to become where you inevitably fall apart on top of me. Not tonight." He tried to rise from to mattress, opening his mouth to protest at the extra mean way you were addressing him. You put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down.

"You are going to just listen to me and take it how I know you damn well enjoy it despite all the usual whining and bitching." You commanded, eyes narrowing.

Vox went light blue at the cheeks, moving once again to try and change your postions. "What the fuck has got you so damn worked up today?" He growled. You looked down at him while finally allowing the rage you've been feeling for days to seep into your voice.

"Snapdragons." You look down upon him with utter contempt, and watch as his smirk fades and confusion and a bit of fear flickers across his features at the sudden shift in your attitude. He clearly doesn't understand what you mean.

"Wha-" he asked, eyes squinting up at you.

"'Snapdragons'," you repeated, "Are what I said to myself while I was home alone, and then found on my doorstep the next morning. Or at least, when I should have been home alone." You give him an absolutely evil grin laced with anger as his face begins to recognise what you're saying and shifts to utter horror.

"N-no I just guessed truly, you know I'm too busy for that kind of thing anyways! I own Voxtek, it's a non-stop business and you know tha-!" He goes to try and immediately make the usual bullshit excuses. You don't let him as you cut him off, hands moving to grip him by the writs and pin him down to the bed.

"And," your eyes bore into his red ones. "How you'd be sweating nervously as fuck the day after I'd be giving myself some.. self love the night before, after a certain time, which I believe matches up with when you start to knock off of work." You hissed through clenched teeth.

You were ready to give more examples but didn’t have to as Vox's face turned fully purple with embarrassment. You watched in satisfaction as his excuses turned into horrified, growingly rapid spluttering nonsense as he glitched and jolted under your gaze with utter humiliation.

"I-I'm. I-! I- hf, I just- stop looking at me like that!" He let out a horrified mumble which petered off into a whine, eyes looking away but ultimately coming back to yours as you glared at him unwaveringly.

He'd never seen you this pissed off at him and it honestly scared him. The heavy feeling of self disgust set in on him as his activities which he'd been brushing off for a while now came crashing down in on him. As he looked into your eyes, feeling his wrists being gripped hard in your hands, he did something which he normally never does; apologise genuinely.

"I-I'm," he blue sceened in the middle of his sentence as humiliation made his voice crack "--orry. 'M sorry I won't ev--r do -t aga-in!" Pixelated tears had begun to form at the edges of his eyes as he allowed his embarrassment at his actions and being caught by you finally take over.

Vox hated himself for putting on such a pathetic display, but he hadn't exactly liked himself over how much he craved spying on you in general, especially in the more intimate moments he knew he particularly shouldn't have been seeing.

The burning hot anger inside of you began to dissipate slightly as you watched the way he was so openly expressing remorse for his actions, however your punishment for this shit was far from over.

You stopped glaring at him as hard, and rather fixed your face with a blank expression instead as you leaned forward towards him and gently gripped the side of his screen. "I--m -orry I'm sor-ry.." He repeatedly whined again and again. Vox sniffled loudly as he looked up at you with a somewhat hopeful expression, hoping it was enough to stave away the rage he had seen in your eyes.

"You're going to be." You said coldly as you reached downwards to begin undoing his belt. You didn't miss the way he jolted in surprise. He was going to be getting sexual punishment from you? This was certainly not something he was expecting, and he felt an extra layer of embarrassment at the excitement he felt at that prospect.

You took his dick in your hand and looked at the way it twitched with quite a bit more vigor then usual. "You're joking. Does the prospect of me punishing you over this really excite you this much? You're a filthy fucking pervert." You insulted him with a look of distaste, smirking inwardly.

"N-no no!" His eyes widened as he glitched out, voice coming out mortified.

You shook your head as you moved your face to the space in between his shoulder and neck. "Your body is much more honest than you are." You murmured, relishing the way he shivered under you as your breath fanned across his neck.

You moved your hand down to grip firmly around his dick, stroking it as your teeth sunk deep into his throat. Vox jolted under you, letting out a strained moan due to how he was tearing up before, just starting to compose himself with his guilt, embarrassment and the weight of your gaze just a minute ago.

You began tormenting the twitching and tense demon under you. You pumped his dick in your hand while kissing his neck and shoulders, leaving marks as you went, putting him in a pleasure filled haze that was dizzying to Vox.

"Shaking under me like some common fucking slut." You laughed against his skin where you pressed your lips against his chest, prompting a huff with teetered off into a moan as you sped up your hand on him.

Whatever calming down he'd been doing was undone quickly as his first climax began to approach after all the attention, coupled with the various degradation you were giving him.

He let out a loud groan coupled with words that were barely orders at this point and were much more begs. "Ugh, l-like thaat." Vox moaned, arching further into your touch as sticky precum began flowing in large amounts from the flushed head of his dick.

Just as it was obvious he was going to come the next second, you took your hand off of him and brought away any stimulation you'd been giving him all at once.

He let out a disappointed grunt at the loss of contact, looking up at you and trying to tug at your heart strings to allow him release. He could tell you weren't going to however by the way you looked at him though. He already regretted it, but it was clear you were far from satisfied.

Once again, you began kissing him.

Your lips made their way downwards, agonisingly slow to get him further uncomfortable and bothered.

Vox watched you with rapt attention as your lips left dark grey/blue hickies on his skin. For the first time in his life, it seemed the demon was truly speechless.

He knew he'd truly fucked up as bad as he probably could if he was getting this kind of treatment from you of all people. You certainly weren't some yes-man pushover, but the usual layer of sweetness covering your words and actions as you interacted with him even while pissed was gone.

Vox arched with a whine as your lips finally wrapped around his already overstimulated cock, and then began a barrage of agonisingly pleasurable, contradictory torment upon it that had him giving out broken sobs by the end of it.

You edged him again several more times, skilfully sucking on him before taking your mouth off again and again as he almost orgasmed, all the while giving him criticism each time he failed to orgasm.

By this point, Vox was well and truly crying with the overstimulation and now painful arousal he was experiencing. His ego was in tatters, and he didn't have the fucks to give about hiding his desperation at this point.

"You truly are a shameless fucking pervert." You growled against the inside of his hip as you sunk your teeth into his skin there as he came down from halted release. You relished the sound he made, a loud and glitchy whine which didn't even try to negate your insult this time.

You leaned over to once again begin sucking him off, pausing before taking him in your mouth. His claws gripped into the sheets for some kind of consolation, as he had already tried to seek comfort in gripping at your hair to pull you further onto him, and you'd swatted his hand away with a hard glare up at him.

The demon's tear filled red eyes and purple face watched you desperately above as you wrapped your lips and tongue around him once again, you looking up at him with blank contempt that shattered him inside further.

You looked down away from his crying face as you swallowed an uncomfortable amount of precum. Pulling away from Vox in the middle of abusing his dick yet again. He let out a broken sob at the loss of contact again, eyes squeezing shut hard.

At this point, he was unable to even deny how much he just wanted release and a break from the relentless harsh words you had been giving him the whole time. The rare event where Vox wasn't being as bratty as possible was truly a shocking one.

His screen at this point was mostly just flashing blue with an error message alongside his whines, which had begun to sound less humanised and more mechanical. You didn't read it fully, but it was something along the lines of: 'Remove subject Them.exe (I'm s_rry I'm sorr_ pl--e pleas_) to prevent further error.'

You hummed somewhat sympathetically as you observed the way he trembled with overwhelm; skin covered in goosebumps, sweat, and a patchwork of your bite marks and hickies. You could tell at this point you had given him enough, and anything further would just be cruel.

The rest of the road to full forgiveness for his bullshit would be outside the bedroom. He was truly wrecked at this point.

You got up and stood up on the bed over him and quickly moved to undo your pants.

The man on the bed looked at you with desperate eyes as you finally revealed your contrastingly touch starved sex.

"Please- I'm sorry, so so sorry, please, plea--, pl-eeash." Vox whined quietly, pleading with you.

You got down on your knees over him again, gripping his hand and guiding it between your thighs as you shushed him softly. "I know, I know, hon." You leaned forward and gently kissed him on his lips, trying to calm him down. "It'll be over soon."

He mumbled out relieved nonsense at the fact you weren't being so mean, and the confirmation he'd be finishing finally. Vox took up the non-verbal cue and began gently touching in between your thighs.

You moaned softly as the kiss you were sharing began to become more passionate, his claw carefully pushing inside of your neglected pussy to avoid hurting you at all.

Your hands moved to gently cup his neck as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, forcing the taste you'd been dealing with the past while. You heard him gag on the taste of his own precum, but he still didn't try to push away as his disgust melted into a throaty groan.

You pulled back from the kiss as you jolted at the feeling of him brushing his thumb over your clit. "Good boy." You praised him breathily. God that did something to him. Vox's brain had been messed up from all the torment, but the sudden praise made it feel like it was turning to mush as warmth flooded his chest intoxicatingly.

You softly laughed at the way he seemed to be so happy after hearing that, arching a brow at him. You leaned back to look down at him. "Don't think you're off the hook here. You're still a disgusting voyeur," his face fell again as more tears flowed from his eyes. "Though," you leaned forward so your lips were barely off of his screen. "I suppose you are my disgusting voyeur because I'm feeling so nice about all this." Vox let out a little relieved huff at the reassurance, relaxing again and focusing more on trying to pleasure and prepare you.

Vox leaned forward awkwardly in an effort to properly kiss your neck in a way that made you comfortable even with the way his head was shaped as he began trying to match his fingers' pace inside of you with what you usually wanted. It was very rare that he was this obviously eager to please you. Showed just how absolutely fucked up he was.

As his tongue ran over your neck, it brought up goosebumps at the strangely wet yet static electric-like sensation his tongue had. You sighed, gripping at his shoulders as you rocked your hips down on his fingers.

Vox's eyes softened with love-sickness where you couldn't see as he heard the sounds of your sighs and murmured praises, tasting the salt of the sweat on your skin and feeling your walls gripping onto his fingers with desire with a satisfied groan.

He was utterly relieved that you had started treating him better again; even though he was absolutely aware in every fibre of himself that he did deserve it and more. The fact that you hadn't broken off your strange situationship with him the second you figured it out was truly a blessing.

You prompted him to lay back into the bed again as you were prepared enough to take him. He didn't fight you as he flopped back onto the mattress, his eyes admiring the way his fingers dripped with your sticky wetness as they pulled out of you with a lewd squelching.

"You're not going to come instantly inside me." You said pointedly to him; not a request but an order. He nodded quickly as he gave you a look like he would never ever do that. You wouldn't be surprised if he did with all the attention he'd been getting despite the pause, but you hoped not.

You slithered one hand downwards to position him to slide inside of you, the other cupping the side of his face.

You let out a relieved sigh as he slid into you with little to no effort - the precum he'd been leaking for so long at this point was significant lubrication along with your own.

The pace you set was quite quick from the get go as you pressed yourself down onto him at the right angle to hit where needed to be hit inside of you.

Vox's claws moved to grip at your back with clear desperation. You let him cling onto you this time. You smirked down at him, observing the fucked out expression he was showing alongside an error message that was just showing keysmash alongside a heat warning that was displaying on the right side of his monitor, flashing climbing temperature.

You leaned forward to give him an absolutely filthy kiss, open mouthed and drooling as you two shoved your tongues into each other; both of you moaning loudly into it.

The room filled with the sounds of the two of you fucking messily, your sweaty bodies rubbing harshly against one-another creating extremely loud slapping noises alongside your moans and the whining cries of Vox who had seemingly found his voice again.

"-on't stop! Don't st -- op! Fu-cking he-ll!" Vox yelled as he dug his claws painfully into the skin of your back, likely leaving scratches. The pain of it didn't yet kick in as your own sky-high arousal and growing pleasure hit into you in hot waves that had your knees shaking as you rode him.

"Not happening- fuuck." You groaned out, voice teetering higher at the end.

Ecstacy began to climb quickly, and the rhythm eventually began to fall apart as you began slamming yourself onto his dick in a frenzy to stimulate yourself.

"This what you wanted spying upon me, huh?" You teased on top of him, observing the way he so clearly was so close to finishing from the way you were clenching around his already over stimulated cock. "Such a gooood little bitch." That sent Vox screaming over the edge with an extremely loud yell accompanied by mechanical whirring as he hit his peak.

The feeling of him filling you up was fucking heavenly as you slammed down on him one last time and arched into the claws that had dug long scratches down your back that were now weeping beads of blood in places as your orgasm overtook you.

As you panted, feeling your pleasure hit into you in waves, you watched as Vox glitched badly below you, face looking up at you with a fucked out expression that read as if he was looking at some sort of deity - before switching off under you, leaving nothing but a black screen which began flashing a 'we'll be right back' message as well as a 'critical temperature error 121 degrees' in bold red.

You cursed, getting off of him shakily and quickly walking to go get an ice pack. As mad as you were with him right now, you didn't want to actually damage him.

As you came back with the ice pack, you noticed that he'd switched back on on a very low brightness, face looking as he was sweaty as all hell and it was obvious he was still coming down from his prior release. The red number was flashing 102 now as it began climbing downwards.

You breathed a sigh of relief while shaking your head in slight annoyance. You walked over to the edge of the bed and sat on it, pressing the icepack on the side of his neck where you'd first bit him. "You're so damn dramatic." You scolded him, only half seriously insulting him.

Vox had somewhat gotten his bearings back, and he looked away in embarrassment with a sour look on his face. "Shut the fuck up." You rolled your eyes, and went to fake getting up.

"Okay, I guess I'll just leave then if you don't want me here, asshole." You snorted as you watched his bullshit crumple so fast, him looking back at you and gripping onto your wrist pleadingly.

He grumbled again when he realised you weren't serious and relaxed against you as you moved to lay on top of him. Your chin rested on his chest as you looked up at him with growing fatigue expectantly as the temperature bar quickly dropped from red to orange, and his flushed purple face began to turn the usual shade of blues he usually had.

He sighed as he somewhat seemingly struggled to say what he knew he had to. "Listen, I... I am sorry. Really. I know it was wrong, and I... won't do it again." He looked away from you with clear remorse in his exhausted voice.

You stared at him for a few seconds before nodding. "You're not off the hook yet. Tomorrow, you will tell me where the things you've been watching me through are, and I will be you-proofing them." You said very seriously.

Vox went to bite back the usual level of snark but figured he'd be bratting far too close to the sun after what you had already done. "Fine." He said enunciating the 'f' as if it took everything to say it.

You hummed in satisfaction with his answer and buried your face into his chest. Vox sighed heavily, looking at the vase full of now wilting snapdragons that had started all of this with annoyance as he loosely wrapped his hands around you.

"You're lucky I love you so much." You murmured tiredly into his skin. What.

You startled as you realised that you'd just said that out loud. Opening your eyes with a shocked expression and slowly finding Vox, whose red eyes were looking at you with equal shock.

The silence in the room was all-encompassing.

I got so into writing this that I physically went outside and touched grass afterwards 💀

A/N If you got the metaphor, I love you so much 🙏 (hint: snapdragons mean deception)

Oh my fucking God it was like the world didn't want me to write this one. First copy get screwed into nothingness because my reception got cut due to mfs doing work on the phone towers in my area, then after I got back home and had WiFi I got absolutely killed by a migraine that would not leave me tf alone.

dammnnn this is fuckin good, i gotta come back when this gets updated!!

Jolt of Love (Part 1)

Husk x Fem! Overlord! Reader x Angel Dust

Hazbin Hotel Fluff/Drama

Synopsis: You’re madly in love with your two partners but the strain on Angel from work is becoming to much. Husk knows you’ll do something reckless with or without him so he stays behind to care for Angel in case something happens. It’s been a while since you switched your flip but maybe it’s time for you to remind Hell why you’re an overlord.

Tw: Polyamorous relationship, reader is a hacker w/ electrokenisis powers, Alastor stirring drama, Angel and Husk getting mad at you, Hacking/Theft, cursing, etc…

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn was barely breaking over Pentagram City, the start of another hellish day was just beginning. Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks with each lazy blink you made, the room was dark and the soft snores of your partners filled your ears. To your left was Husk, grumbling in his sleep with his eyebrows furrowed angrily like always. To your right was Angel, the tear stains of last night’s nightmare still evident on his cheeks. You sighed and slowly sat up to stretch your tired bones and muscles, your fierce (e/c) gaze focused on the nearby clock.

“Almost show time.”, you smirked, the energy of your demonic powers slowly slipping free causing a distortion in the room.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm yourself, your emotions were getting the better of you but you knew that no matter what you couldn’t allow your emotions to blind you from your goal today. You had an TV interview later today with the one and only Vox, this was your chance to make some noise.

“Hey you three breakfast is ready!”, Charlie’s voice called from the door, “Come down when you’re ready!”

You smiled to the sound of her chipper voice, “Husk, wake up honey.”, you mumbled against his cheek gently placing kisses into his fur while he started to stir awake. Although still asleep a deep purr started to sound from his throat the more you kissed him. A soft laugh spilled from your lips in amusement, now you were onto Angel. You turned and pulled Angel into a deep embrace gently squeezing him and calling his name, “Mmm five more minutes.”, he groaned in his sleep.

“Wake up sleepy boy, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”, you teased tickling his sides, a contagious fit of laughter erupted from Angel’s chest. He flailed so much that he was stealing the blankets from right under you.

Husk chuckled watching you two fall off the bed in a mess of limbs and blankets, “Guess I’ll just eat your food then!”, you cheered standing up and rushing out of the room.

You could hear Angel yelling for you to come back but you were already half way down the hallway. Eventually they both joined you downstairs in the dining hall, Husk brought your pajama pants that you’d forgotten and Angel brought his brush to comb out your wild hair into something more manageable. Charlie happily squealed from her side of the table watching you three be so sweet and loving to each other.

“Good morning all, what a fine day we’re having.”, Alastor cheered upon entering the room.

Your left eye twitched at the sight of him, without a doubt he knew about your meeting today hopefully he’d be kind enough to keep it to himself. Sadly Alastor was kind, he liked to stir up trouble and you were a cesspool of it.

“(Y/n) dear, I heard an unfavorable rumor that you’ll be guest starring on Vox’s show tonight! A bit unfair that you couldn’t bless my radio show with your presence first.”, Alastor grinned watching your two partners tense up to the news.

You glared at Alastor and sent a quick jolt of electricity his way from your hand, he dodged into the shadows his maniacal laughter echoing in the room. “Shit.”, you cursed feeling the worried gazes of your lovers.

“Out now!”, Husk ordered everyone out, now you were stuck alone with him and Angel.

You let out a heavy sigh and waited for the argument to begin, usually it was Husk that would argue with you over something like this but to your surprise Angel spoke up first. “An interview with Vox, (Y/n) are you insane? The Vees are some of the most influential demons in Hell, one wrong move and they’ll erase you from existence!”, Angel yelled, his two lower hands reaching to hold your face so you’d look at him, the other pair moving wildly in correlation to his words.

“Look I know it’s a surprise but I wasn’t planning on telling you two until I was done. There’s just something I gotta do with the Vees and then after that I swear I’m never going after them again.”

“Going after them? Going after them! (Y/n) you’re a receptionist for a hotel! You don’t understand what you’re getting yourself into!”, Angel panicked, “Whatever you’re planning on doing you better stop!”

You frowned at Angel, the light leaving your eyes while you glared at him with a murderous look, “I’m doing what I have to and neither of you can stop me.”, you growled.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed and then what? Why even risk going to Voxtec if you’ll just die?”, Angel continued yelling, growing angrier by second by your sudden change in attitude.

“There’s more to me than you know sweetheart, if I die than I die, at least you two will still have each other.”

Tears spilled down Angel’s cheeks, worry and fear coursing through his veins. You wanted to offer him a hug but instead you received a well deserved slap to the face. You didn’t stumble or fall back, you accepted the momentary pain while Angel stormed off in a fit, “I’ll never forgive you if you fucking die!”, he screamed before leaving back to the room.

You looked down at your feet, anger bubbling in your veins. Husk watched you curse out your frustrations and pace around, “Angel’s worried…he doesn’t know you like I do. (Y/n), love, what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”, Husk asked softly, hugging you from behind.

His forehead pressed gently on your back just between your shoulder blades. You let out another angry breath and looked up at the ceiling trying to keep your tears from spilling. “I-I know he’s mad. I know it…but I wouldn’t be risking this if it wasn’t for a good reason. I’m just trying to make sure you’ll both be okay.”, you choked out.

Husk listened closely to your words, trying to figure out what you meant. “Listen sweetheart, I love the both of you, it’s been a long time since I loved anything really. Being with you and Angel has made me the happiest I’ve ever been and I want to go to Heaven with both of you no matter what. So please understand that we’re scared, we’re scared of losing you, you make us whole. So please don’t go doing anything reckless in what seems like a trap.”, Husk pleaded softly with you.

He could feel you going limp in his arms, “I know what I’m doing Husk, we’ll get to heaven I promise. J-Just go check on Angelcakes for me. Give him a kiss for me and I promise I’ll be home tonight.”

Husk allowed you to turn around and look at him, your eyes begged him to trust you and although he was scared he knew better than to not believe in his girl. He pulled out a single card from his deck and used his powers to charge it up, “If you need this then use it, it’s my lucky card. It’s gotten me out of a few bad spots before. I hope it’ll be just as lucky for you. You better come home…I love you.”, Husk hummed softly cupping your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Love ya too, Whiskers, tell Angel I love him and I promise I’ll be home tonight.”, you smiled weakly watching him leave to comfort Angel.

Now alone in the room an electrical spark glowed in your cold eyes, “Showtime.”, you mumbled to yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“(Y/n)! Welcome to Voxtec, Vox at your service such a pleasure to meet you my dear.”, Vox welcomed you with great enthusiasm.

Confidently taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, you quickly took your hand back and forced a sweet smile. “The pleasure’s all mine. I hope you don’t mind my sunglasses, my eyes are hypersensitive and the tower is just so bright that I’m a bit overwhelmed.”, you lied.

Vox gave you a questioning look and smiled reassuring you that it was all right by him. He couldn’t tell yet but the moment you stepped into the building you were already working on what you’d came to do. The electrical virus in your body was slowly pulsing from the (f/c) soles of your shoes hacking into the Voxtec systems secretly while you distracted its CEO. Vox lead you down to the tv studio where more and more computers and systems were for you to hack into.

“Wow it’s so advanced down here. How do you keep up with it all?”, you gasped in awe.

Vox smiled seeing how mesmerized you were, “My abilities give me limitless access and power to any device in my possession. With my tv broadcasting I also possess any technology my show is showed on. I’m an overlord afterall but you probably aren’t used to someone as powerful as me.”, he chuckled taking his seat behind his desk.

You sat on the couch next to him and smiled, your eyes rapidly scrolling through all of the coding appearing in your glasses. Vox noticed the (f/c) glowing tattoos running down the side of your legs and smiled seeing how little your clothes covered you.

“You’ve got a pretty sexy style for a receptionist of a hotel. Never would’ve expected a sweet thing like you to have tattoos.”, Vox chuckled, you shared a little playful giggle with him and stuck your leg out straight in the air.

“Just a tight black dress and a huge oversized jacket, simple but elegant enough to pass as an outfit. I was born with these tattoos, I like to show them off when I’m not dressed like a school teacher.”, you giggled.

Vox smiled at you and readied himself for the interview, the cameras were set and the audio team was ready to roll. The countdown began and in just a few short seconds Vox was live with you as the special guest star of the show.

“Top of the hour and we’re welcoming a very special guest star to the show today. The innocent and beautiful receptionist of the Hazbin Hotel, welcome (y/n)!”, Vox cheered for the camera.

You smiled at him giving a sweet wave to the camera, “Now (Y/n) let’s get right into it, how did you end up being part of such a delusional project?”, Vox asked condescendingly.

You rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses and faked a laugh, “As delusional as it might seem the purpose of the Hazbin Hotel is a deep passion project aided by several powerful souls. You should pay a visit we could probably help you with your attitude.”, you teased with a cocky smile.

Vox faked a laugh, his left eye beginning to glow with his hypnotic energy. You smiled knowing full well that you’d be safe from his abilities thanks to your own. “I’ll think about it dear, now tell us about the people you work with. I’m sure it’s not easy having to deal with the scum of hell in that hotel.”

“Oh it’s never boring thats for sure love, we have our two founders. Our hotel manager, our bartender, our housekeeper, our facility manager, and of course all the new guests that we’ve been getting since extermination day was cancelled.”, you sounded so bubbly and sweet all while your powers wildly surged through VoxTec Enterprises.

Vox seemed annoyed with that answer, what he wanted was something to use against you. He wanted to publicly defame the hotel by involuntarily using you.

“Then let’s talk about them shall we, the Founders what are they like?”, he smiled, playing with his cup of coffee.

The coding in your glasses was all running smoothly, you were peacefully copying data and changing passwords and security measures for everything that belonged to the Vees.

Purchases and shipments cancelled!

“I’m not ready for an early second death so I won’t bother mentioning Lucifer, he might hang me.”, you giggled knowing full well he’d never do that, “Princess Charlie is a sweet lil thing, funny and a bit ditsy and always trying to sing her way through the day. She’s got a big heart full of hope for every soul in hell regardless if they believe in her or not. She’s a good apple with a lot of room to learn.”

The live feed of responses behind Vox lit up with comments both sweet and hateful but you didn’t mind. You quickly hacked the livestream just to allow only positive comments to flood in. Vox, growing more and more annoyed by the second, let out an anxious huff.

Comment thread hacked!

“Th-That’s great and all, any weaknesses you could think of about her?”, Vox continued to pry.

You faked a pondering expression, tapping your pointer finger against your lips with a hum, “Caring to much? Yeah caring to much, and her girlfriend of course. Never want to get on Vaggie’s bad side physical therapy days with her are rough.”

Passwords changed!

“Oh and then there’s Husk, greatest bartender in Hell, I’ll fight you on that if you try to argue with me.”, you laughed noticing Vox grow more and more agitated the more you talked.

Bank funds transferred, accounts locked!

“Best bartender to talk to when you got a problem! Love that sweet grumpy cat to death. Then there’s Nifty the Maid, she’s…she’s something. Trust me you don’t wanna know about her she’s got issues.”

Social media accounts hacked and locked!

Vox was beginning to glitch, his emotions were getting the best of him while he subconsciously tried to fight off your virus. His fake smile slowly curling into an annoyed scowl, “W-Well you sure got alot of good things to say about the Hotel huh? So sweet just like everyone says.”, Vox groaned.

Company titles and ownership transferred!

All of your hard work was paying off everything was going so well, you just needed one last thing.

“Surely you don’t have anything to say about that old fool Alastor. That fossil is so out of touch with modern life that he just hides away in a recording studio all day!”, Vox cackled trying to stir some sort of emotion from you.

Company stock value dropping, buying all shares and stocks with transferred funds now!

You let your smile drop pretending to be offended by his words, “Alastor is a difficult guy I’ll give you that. Frankly I don’t know if he actually cares about the Hotel or not but he is pretty reliable.”, you huffed.

Anti-Vox data virus ready to launch!

Vox smiled seeing how he finally got a reaction out of you. He hated Alastor and would gladly use you to ruin his image in any way possible. “Don’t you think having someone like that on staff diminishes the value of the Hotel? Surely a powerful overlord like Alastor doesn’t actually believe any of you can accomplish this silly little goal. It’s just laughable really.”

Your smile quickly returned along with a hearty laugh that left your stomach hurting, Vox didn’t appreciate you laughing at him! Small blue sparks started firing off from the back of his head, the lights slowly flickering in the building.

“You’re so bothered by Alastor, pretty insecure about your rival there huh?”, you teased asking your own questions now.

Vox growled at you ready to end the interview then and there but you knew better then to back down. “Heard through the grapevine that you and Alastor had a little fight a couple years back, I heard he wiped the floor with you.”

“Now listen here little lady you-“

“You must’ve been so sad without him being active for seven years and now he doesn’t even give you the time of day. So sad how replaceable you are.”, you giggled, more sparks shooting off from behind Vox’s head.

Data corruption ready to launch!

“You’ve got some nerve talking to me like that!”, Vox screamed standing up and slamming his hands against the desk.

You smiled ready to do what you do best, “You wanna fuck Alastor so bad it makes you look stupid.”, you hissed watching his left eye burn red with his hypnotic gaze.

“Alastor is weak and useless!”

Virus launching in 3…

“But wouldn’t that make you weaker then him? You haven’t even beaten him in a fight yet.”

2…

Vox growled, pulling a gun from his belt and aiming right at you, “That’s it you’re dead!”

1…virus data download complete and initiated!

The cords connected to the back of Vox’s head started glowing with a bright (f/c) current of electricity. He was to blinded by his rage to notice the virus going right into his head, you held his screen in pain feeling himself short circuit. His screen went blue, coding appearing and detailing the reason for his reset, your virus had made it in. Without meaning to he caused a blackout throughout the city leaving it clouded in darkness.

“You want it to stop then you need to give me something.”, your voice cold and murderous as you kicked the spasming demon down onto the floor.

“Wh-what did you do?”, Vox growled up at you.

You smiled and squatted down next to him, your once completely black outfit was now glowing (f/c) along the trim. Your tattoos along your body now glowing with your clothes, “You’ve got alot to learn little overlord, you may be powerful but you aren’t ready to play with the big boys yet. Now call you little boy toy here or I’ll make you regret ever dying a sinner.”, you warned lifting up your glasses so he could see the electricity surging in your (e/c) eyes.

Vox gasped recognizing the symbol in your demonic eyes, you were an overlord just like him but far stronger and more dangerous than all the Vees combined.

“Y-You…you’re the Cyberwar Demon, but you’re supposed to be dead!”, Vox gasped, feeling another jolt your virus course through his body.

You smiled at him in amusement, “Alastor’s not the only one who disappeared for seven years, I just did a better job hiding that I was back. Now gather the Vees before I make you my fucking puppet.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the City the demons in the Hazbin Hotel were all panicking, not because of the black out but for your safety. Although the interview was amusing to watch the moment the tv turned off everyone’s stomachs dropped.

“We need to go get her! We need to go get her now, they’ll kill her.”, Angel panicked already running towards the door in a hurry.

Husk sighed and reached for Angel’s wrist with his tail, “Angel stop. She’s gonna be okay, you’ve gotta have faith in her.”

Husk could see the fear in Angel’s eyes. Panic, worry, guilt, all those bad emotions were getting the best of him. “Husk…I told her I’d hate her. I didn’t even tell her goodbye before she left, if she dies I-I don’t think I could handle it.”, Angel stumbled over his words.

Husk let out a defeated sigh and nodded his head, “I get that but for now all we can do is believe in her. I know she’s coming home, we’ve just gotta wait for her.”

Husk offered Angel a tight hug before he felt the others joining in to help ease both his and Angel’s worries.

“She’ll make it back, I know she will.”, Charlie smiled.

Angel looked to the front door, letting a shaky breath fall from his lips, “I-I sure hope so.”, he whimpered. Husk followed Angel’s gaze, worry slowly starting to build up in his own heart now that you were on your own.

“You better come home (Y/n).”

୨୧﹕༊﹒ lucifer morningstar (demon form) gifs — please credit me if you use these!! i take requests for gifs too! lucifer soft gifs <3

｡ﾟ･ ☆ lucifer morningstar (soft) gifs — here’s part 2!! I’m so in love with this man my god … anyway!! Here’s the other lucifer gifs and my requests are open if there’s any gifs / writing prompts you’d like me to do ! please credit me if you use these!!!

little mage - part 2

notes: this ended up so long. but yall wanted to be patient for porn so here we are lol. sequel to this

words: 5.4k

rating: E

pairing: astarion x reader (no pronouns used, reader has a vulva)

The camp in Wyrm’s Crossing is alive with joy. 

Orin the Red has been killed, the party is one Netherstone closer to getting the tadpoles out of their heads, and everyone’s using it as an excuse for a booze-up. The campfire is roasting a pork loin for the main course and you’ve all gathered around it to enjoy each other’s company before dinner. Tav has their lute out and is playing a raunchy song, much to the group’s delight, and their clear voice fills the night with music and laughter.

Across the crackling embers, they catch your eye and give you a wink. You find yourself grinning. You can see why Gale is so totally smitten with them, their upbeat attitude is magnetic. No wonder they became the impromptu leader of this little group, you could quite easily see yourself following them into battle too.

As Karlach drunkenly sweeps the bard up into her arms with a whoop, you let yourself look around the campsite. Lae’zel and Shadowheart are bickering about something inane, but not with the ferocity they once did - it seems more like banter now than anything. Well, as close to banter as a githyanki can get. Halsin and Jaheira are reminiscing about the ‘old days’, and, next to the High Harper, Minsc is loudly telling a tale of his wild past to Wyll who looks equal parts interested and bewildered.

It is lovely to be part of this little family. You’ve never felt more like you belonged somewhere, amidst this group of colourful oddballs.

And finally your eyes settle on the furthest member of the group.

Astarion rarely lets himself be caught up in the middle of things. He sits at the edge of the circle, quietly swirling a glass of wine which you know he doesn’t really want to be drinking, but does so in order to look like he’s busy. He watches the rest of you laugh and joke and be merry in a way which he can’t quite bring himself to be. 

You wish you could get him to smile. He looks lighter when he does. 

A few days have passed since the… incident in the alleyway, and it’s been enough for the heat to die down both in camp and between your legs. You can look at him without throbbing, now. The two of you haven’t really spoken much outside of quiet morning pleasantries when grabbing a coffee, and those interactions are always around the others. You’ve felt the heat of his eyes bore into you though, and desperately tried to keep yourself from meeting his gaze.

To be honest, you’re glad that you’ve been so busy recently, and that business is keeping you away from Astarion. There simply hasn’t been time to explore things further with him, and you’re not sure you want to.

Well, no. That’s a lie. You do want to, desperately, but you’re worried. Astarion strikes you as being like belladonna: beautiful, but deadly if you let yourself touch.

He is, after all, a two-hundred year old vampire, with all of the baggage that comes with it. And you’re just a little mage.

“Well, seems like someone’s a million miles a–”

You shriek and drop the chicken leg you’re holding to the camp floor. Gale holds up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“My apologies. It was far from my intention to surprise you, especially at the cost of your first course.”

You sigh and grab the chicken, using a quick Prestidigitation to clear off the dirt as Gale takes a seat next to you.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry. My mind was elsewhere, which it shouldn’t have been. I know how important it is for a wizard to keep their wits about them.”

He smiles at that. He always does when you remember one of his lessons. He nods to the chicken bone you’re stripping the meat from.

“You’re getting better at that.”

“Eating floor food?”

“Well, that too perhaps, but I was referring to your grasp on magic. It’s much improved since our last lesson.” He looks a little downcast for a moment. “I’m sorry. We haven’t been focussing as much on your studies as I’d have liked - but, well, I’m sure you can understand that I’ve been somewhat waylaid due to an unwelcome guest.”

“Gale!” you say, faux-shocked, “That’s a horrible way to refer to Tav!”

He looks appalled, then realises you’re joking and grins in relief. You give him a friendly elbow.

“I understand. You didn’t ask for any of this, and we can only take each day as it comes. If anything is a reason to put teaching on a back burner, it’s the threat of being turned into an illithid.” There’s a pause. “And Tav is good for you, you know. You smile more now.”

You see his ears go a bit red, even in the low light of the fire.

“Thank you. I’m inclined to agree. They’re so thoroughly… good,” he decides, reduced to wordlessness in his ardour. He turns to you, and his posture shifts a little. Oh no. He is going to try and be Serious.

“And you know, it isn’t wrong to want to find companionship. If there was someone who you…”

Nope, no. You have to stop this. You can’t talk about your love life (or lack thereof) with Gale, it would be like having The Talk with your big brother. The idea makes you panicked and nauseous.

“Besides, Gale,” you say, quickly, interrupting him and steering the conversation back to magic, “what I just cast was a cantrip, I’ve been able to do those since I could tie my shoes.”

Gale seems relieved that you’re on more solid ground, crossing his arms over his chest with a smile.

“Is that so? Well, please, show me something spellbinding. As it were.”

He sits back and waits for you to show off. You run through your prepared spells in your head and settle on one which feels right: carefully, making sure that nobody will get hurt, you reach out and cast a careful Pyrotechnics on the campfire.

Fireworks shoot into the air, exploding into the night sky with colourful whizzes and bangs. The party all looks up and gasps in surprise and delight at the impromptu little display. You carefully shape the spell so as to keep it vertical, change the colours with a wiggle of your fingers, pulling invisible strings of weave until you feel it naturally come to an end. There’s a beat of silence before the campfire erupts in a cheer, Gale grinning proudly next to you.

“Look at you!” he says, slapping you on the back in triumph, “I’m certain that we’ll have an archwizard on our hands in no time.”

You know he’s exaggerating, but your tutor’s praise does make you beam anyway. In between compliments and Minsc’s pleading for a repeat performance, your eyes drift to the outside of the circle.

To Astarion.

And he’s watching. Of course he is. There’s something unreadable in his expression, something which makes you feel hot under the collar.

Oh, gods. This is a mistake.

You’re suddenly aware of how much the centre of attention you are. Everyone’s eyes are on you, boring into you, watching for the next thing you’ll do. 

Astarion’s eyes are on you.

No. You don’t like it. The limelight takes to Tav, not you. You’re a bloody apprentice wizard, not a fabulous bard. The heat rises until it’s eclipsing your face and gods you need to get out of here, now, choking out some half-baked excuse and getting to your feet. 

“Are you–?” begins Gale, but you wave him off and quickly scamper away, heart beating in your throat.

Unseen, Astarion slips after you.

The longer you walk, the quicker you go, the more you calm down. Soon you can feel your panic get under control; yet questions swirl around your mind. What were you thinking, doing something so public? You berate yourself for your childishness only to know the answer is there in plain sight.

You wanted Astarion to look at you. To notice you. Oh gods, you are such a little fool. He’d never be properly impressed with you, ever, and to get wound up about it is–

“Well, someone made quite a scene back there.”

You jump. His voice is like an ice cube being run down your spine, chilling and exciting you all at once. In the forest clearing you’ve found yourself in, you turn to face the pale elf, watching as he leans up against a tree, jealous at how easy he can be in this situation.

“I hope you aren’t too put off by the fact that I followed you as you scurried off… though, judging by the way you were looking at me over the campfire, I don’t think you mind the company.”

Then it occurs to you, oh gods, you’re alone with him again, aren’t you? Far from the camp, just the two of you, and with nobody to watch he can do whatever he wants, you can do whatever you want, and…

“You’re overthinking.”

His words cut like a knife through the thick air between you, and then he’s closing the gap, getting close enough to feel your shaky breaths on his skin, red eyes gleaming. His white shirt seems to be particularly unlaced today, revealing broad plains of perfect alabaster. 

You want to touch him. You can’t move under his gaze.

“I am,” you manage to confess, voice barely more than a whisper. Astarion chuckles, and you want to hear that sound over and over and over again.

His fingers brush your arm and you gasp. His vulpine smile grows wider, looking at you from under hooded eyes.

“Would you like me to help you stop thinking?”

You nod all too eagerly, and he loves it.

His mouth is just as wonderful on yours as you remember. He tastes nice, too, of vanilla this time - you wonder if he sweetens his breath before he seeks you out. You let him lead the kiss. He has far more experience with this, after all, and it shows: the way your tongues entwine makes you moan in anticipation, the soft clack of his teeth on yours a melody unto itself. When he begins to walk you backwards you immediately follow. It’s a waltz, of a kind, something intimate and sensual, and you reel with ecstasy when you feel your back hit the rough bark of a tree.

Yes. Yes, anything. Anything that he wants to do with you, you’ll offer it all up. You’re drunk on him already, head swimming, only after more Astarion, and then you feel his hand press up against your stomach and start to gently sneak in under your waistband, and he is so so close to touching where you need him most, and –

With far more self-control than you ever realised you had, your hands reach out and grab his forearm in a vice-grip.

“No, no. Astarion. Stop.”

He does, immediately, backing away so that he can scan your face. Your chest may be heaving and body thrumming with desire but you’re not so lost in the thrill of it that you can’t see he’s genuinely concerned. His eyes are wide, searching, trying to work out what he’s done wrong. It’s the first time you’ve seen him be unsure of himself - at least in front of you.

“Did I… do you not want…?”

“No, I do. I do, but… gods, look…” this is so embarrassing but you need to say it or it will be buried forever, and any real chance of connection will be lost, “... if this is just sex for you then I don’t want it, Astarion.”

He looks absolutely bowled over by that. His eyes flit across your face as he attempts to read you; he must think you’re trying to trick him. How far that is from the truth.

You carry on. 

“I know… I know you think it might be something you have to do to win me over, or to make me like you. But it isn’t, because I already do like you! I really like you, Astarion. And while, gods know, I want you to take me here on this forest floor, I don’t want this to be some little fling. I want to go out to bookshops with you, and drink coffee, and judge people as they walk by us.” Despite everything he gives a flicker of a smile at that. “I want to hold your hand while we walk places. I want to sit in the park and look at clouds with you. I want to go to sleep next to you, gods damn it, every night if you’ll let me. I want to be there if you need someone on your side. I want… I want all of you, every messy, wild piece of it. So if this is just something physical? I can’t. It would break my heart.”

Astarion lets that little confession settle. He looks utterly gobsmacked, no matter how well he tries to make it seem otherwise. You can tell he’s thinking. That his mind is going a mile a minute trying to work out if you’re being serious, and second-guessing himself when he comes to the conclusion that you are.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that.

The moment hangs in the air, pregnant with possibility, and eventually he reaches in to kiss you. But it is not all tongues and teeth and hunger this time. It’s sweet. Affectionate. And you love it even more than the ones that came before it.

“Aren’t you full of surprises, little mage?” he asks, voice as light as a feather, caressing like velvet. Another kiss before he pulls back, returning to his typical bravado, sighing as if this is all so much, but with a sincere smile on his face which he can’t quite seem to wipe, “Alright, tomorrow, then. We’ll go out for tea. I know a little place I think you’ll like - chamomile is your favourite, isn’t it?”

Your eyes go wide as you nod. It is. And he just knew that.

“It’s a date,” he grins, and your heart skips a beat.

He’s as good as his word. 

The next day you head to a little café in one of the quieter areas of the lower city, one with quaint outside tables under large gingham parasols, and the two of you sharing a pot of tea while people-watching. He grins at every bitchy comment you make about someone’s dress sense, and when your feet brush up playfully together underneath the table your heart jumps as if you’re a schoolchild again. 

When you finish your cups he indulges you as you go shopping, linking his little finger in yours and letting you pull him along as you go through your new favourite bookstore. He complains but you can tell he doesn’t mean it, not really. He carries your things for you while you let your hands run over the spines of newly-printed tomes, occasionally picking one out and adding it to the pile in his arms. When you’re done, you take the long way back to camp, just to be alone together for a little while longer. 

That night you sit with him by the campfire as you eat, lost in quiet conversation, and you absolutely ignore the way that Gale is grinning and trying to catch your eye because oh gods it’s embarrassing when he’s smug - and then, at night, he retires to your tent with you. You thrill as he wraps you in his arms, burying his face in the nape of your neck and drifting off to sleep. 

A few days go by and you suggest that, whilst you know Tav has let him feed from them for ease, you’d happily volunteer to take the position. He grins, and whispers something filthy which makes your face hot, and you start waking with a pleasant pain over your jugular from the next morning on. 

A few more days on from that, the two of you start kissing in front of the rest of the party. This earns a “yeah, baby!” from Karlach and a good-natured ribbing from the others. You’re insightful enough to know that he likes to show you off a bit, not out of any self-satisfied reason - or at least, not entirely - but because he is genuinely pleased to have you as his paramour. Sitting in his lap at dinner, holding his hand as you stroll through the city, these things become as easy as breathing. Every part of you sings for Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. 

One night, he confides his fear about sexual intimacy for you. You’re so glad you didn’t give into him those times before, and tell him you’re happy to wait as long as he needs. There is no rush for you. It breaks your heart how relieved he looks. 

Were this your regular day-to-day life, a romance would have blossomed slowly. But it is not your regular life. There is no chance to feel emotions other than intensely on the road you tread, to throw yourselves into one another and be known completely. 

When Cazador Szarr dies, you are there. You told Tav you were coming, despite everyone pleading you to stay behind - there was no way you would let Astarion face him without you, and you can tell that he’s secretly relieved to have you there. You sling spells from the back line and pick off his master’s minions, one eye on the vampire lord and the other on your partner. And when the fight is over, and he is offered the possibility of ascension - he looks to you straight away. 

A little shake of your head is all that’s needed to dissuade him from the idea entirely. 

That night he cries and you hold him, so so tightly. So tightly in fact that you’re scared you’re going to hurt him. But he says nothing, he just presses his face into the place where your shoulder meets your neck and weeps, long and loud and raw and intimate. You stroke his hair and wait until he’s exhausted, then lay him down to sleep wrapped in your arms. 

He looks like the weight of the world has been lifted from him the next morning. 

When he takes you to his gravestone the two of you sit, hand-in-hand, understanding how much you have come to mean to each other. It is a sweet and intense love you have fostered, so far from the vampire who would have taken you in that alleyway on the way back from Sorcerous Sundries. 

Well, maybe not that far, because as you leave the cemetery he sweeps you up in a burning kiss, all tongues and teeth and fire. 

Oh. Tonight, then. You can do tonight. 

As you head back to the Elfsong, you get him to pause by the front desk, and he watches as you dish out the coin with shaking fingers to rent a suite for the night. You have no intention of going back to the party’s shared floor. When he realises what this means, Astarion is half elated and half trepidatious as the two of you ascend the stairs to your private room. 

“My sweet,” he says, eyes blazing salaciously but sincere in his words of comfort, “you know that we don’t have to…”

“I know. But I want to,” you tell him, utterly sure, “but only if you want to, as well. I know how you feel about… all this. If there’s even a single doubt in your mind, then—”

He kisses you so fiercely that the breath is stolen from your lungs. You don’t even realise he’s taken the keys from your hands until the door swings open and the two of you tumble back into the room, into bed. 

His mouth is hot and delicious, kissing every inch of your skin he can find. Little nips of fangs only serve to excite you. He is thorough in his exploration; lavishing attention only onto what is exposed, and it leaves you a mewling mess beneath him. 

“Astarion… please,” you beg. His eyes are heavy-lidded as he looks up at you from your chest, your sternum aching pleasantly from his ministrations. 

“Please what, little mage?”

Oh, he knows how it excites you when he calls you that. Without even thinking, your hips rut up into his. He smiles in hunger and delight. 

“Use your words, my love.”

“I need you to touch me.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

This seems to satisfy him, and he tugs at your shirt until it becomes untucked from your waistband, slowly lifting it until you take it off properly. Chest bared to him for the first time with the promise of lovemaking, he slowly reaches to take a nipple in his mouth and sucks. You moan and cant beneath his body, letting his teeth graze your areola, allowing his fangs tease the soft skin he finds. When his hand reaches up to touch your lips you let them fall open easily, letting him fuck your tongue with his fingers. 

“Good… you’re so pliant, aren’t you? Naughty little thing. Desperate for me.”

This talk is driving you wild. It will kill you, you’re sure of it. You throb, actually throb, and moan as he reaches for your trousers. It’s an easy shucking and oh gods he’s taken your underwear too and then you’re lying there, bare beneath his gaze. 

He looks you up and down. Your chest heaves. 

“Like what you see?” you want it to be playful, but instead it’s full of nerves. You really, really hope he does. If your body is anything less than desirable to him you’ll be shattered. 

He senses the worry in your words and, rather than continue his work on your chest, reaches over to kiss you, slow and sweet. It’s a kiss you know well, one you’ve given him a dozen times over: a kiss of reassurance. 

“You’re divine,” he whispers. A thrill runs up you. This man - this man, who could have been carved out of marble by the gods themselves - thinks you’re divine. A surge of courage runs through you and you sweep him in for another kiss, taking his hand in yours and guiding it down your body. 

When he first touches between your legs you think you might explode. His long, dexterous fingers slowly spread you open, running along the soft seam of your cunt. You find yourself reduced to jelly, a quivering mess as he explores you for the first time. His touch is gentle, reverent, careful; his fingers find your sweetest spot and rub there for a moment until you see stars light up behind your eyes.

It’s good. So good. When he presses those fingers inside you gasp a little but he is attentive to what he does. There is no urgency as he slips in one, then two, slowly pumping you as you hope he plans to with his cock later. Your legs spread and he settles between them better, lavishing your skin with kisses and your ego with praise. 

“So lovely… so wet. I’m going to make this good for you. I’m going to empty your head of every piece of magic you know, you gorgeous thing, and replace it only with the feeling of this.”

At that he crooks his fingers upwards and you squeak as he hits a spot that sends electricity along every nerve in your body. 

“Astarion—!”

“Yes, that’s it.” He drops a kiss to your shoulder and continues his work, fucking you with his fingers. He slips in a third when he feels you’re ready enough, and when his thumb presses into your clit you know you’re hurtling towards the first orgasm someone else has ever given you. 

It’s magnificent. It’s syrupy and sweet and shocking, crashing over your body like a wild tide and dragging you out to sea with it. You come all over his hand and ride it out, pressing your cunt down into his palm and rutting up against it like a dog in heat. Astarion smiles, and though it’s lustful and heavy-lidded you can see the genuine affection for you there too, a true happiness that you’d give yourself to him like this. 

When the feeling has passed he kisses you before slowly removing his fingers and pressing them into his mouth. Your eyes go wide. 

“Astarion!” you squeak. He gives a blasé shrug. 

“I wanted to taste you. Can you really blame me? You look delicious.”

Face hot again you do the only thing you can think of: thump him playfully with one of the decorative cushions on the bed. He looks actually shocked at that before he bursts into genuine joyful laughter, and you do too - and it’s good. It’s so, so good. You’re in bed with the man you love and laughing because it’s silly and you feel safe and adored. And it occurs to you: yes, you do love him. You want to keep him happy and safe and in your arms for as long as he’ll let you, which is hopefully forever. 

“You’re wearing far too many clothes,” you point out. He looks down to where he’s still fully dressed, cock pressing achingly against the front of his trousers. 

“I suppose I am. Let’s remedy that.”

You help him remove his shirt, caressing the expanse of smooth chest he reveals, undo the laces of his bottoms and pull him free. His length stands hard and ready in front of you and it gives you a not insubstantial thrill that you’re the one who managed to do this to him. You!

You take him in your hand, carefully, and he groans. Smiling, you let your body take over - pumping him slowly and languidly, as easy a pace as he set with you. He’s a decent size and thick, something you can see fitting quite comfortably inside you. 

Emboldened, you reach forward and lick a stripe up him. Astarion arches as if he’s been electrocuted, and his hands dig into your shoulders to halt you. 

“Oh… did I do something wrong…?” you ask, but when you meet his gaze you don’t find scorn or anger. You find such unbridled, carnal desire you’re overtaken with it. 

“No. Quite the opposite. If you do that I will end up finishing in your mouth. And while it’s a lovely thought - I want this to be about you.”

You release his cock and let it bob against his stomach, moving to give him another tender kiss. 

“It’s not about me. It’s about us.”

He smiles, softly. 

“Indeed it is, my love. Indeed it is.”

He manoeuvres you, carefully, so that you’re lying back on the bed, legs spread open for him as he takes himself in his hand and rubs it against your already orgasm-drenched cunt. 

“Will it hurt?” you ask, suddenly a little scared. This is happening. It’s happening. 

But Astarion is sweet. A kiss is dropped to your shoulder, tender and reassuring.

“If it does, tell me, and I’ll stop. I swear.”

You trust him. You lie back and fan your legs open a little further, letting him press the head of his cock against your entrance and start to slide it. 

It’s an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. You’re full for the first time, in a different way to his fingers; his cock is thicker and spreads you in a far more lucious way. You gasp as he enters into you, each little thrust of his hips easing him inside deeper, and though it does sting a little the pleasure that he brings is far more easy to concentrate on. 

“Oh… oh…”  is all you can manage, and when you look up Astarion’s eyes are screwed shut in concentration, like he has to actively prevent himself from fucking you with the vigour he wants to. That’s promising. You hope the next night you spend like this will be far more wild, once you’re used to the feeling of him. 

Eventually he sinks all the way up to his base. He groans, cock throbbing inside you, totally sheathed. Together as one. His forehead presses down against yours, and he takes deep and slow inhales he doesn’t need - encouraging you to get your own breathing in sync with his, calm you down and adjust to it. 

Soon you’re used to the intrusion of him, and you nudge your hips up against his. He smiles. 

“And here I thought learning magic required patience. You seem to have none of it.”

“I’m patient when it comes to how to cast a bloody fireball, Astarion. If you don’t start moving now, I might explode.”

He chuckles again, genuine in his glee, and slowly begins to buck his hips. His cock stretches you wider, and his head grazes that sweet spot over and over. Oh, it is delicious. Your body is on fire for Astarion Ancunín and you never want to extinguish it; you want him to keep on fanning this flame forever. You will become a roaring inferno under his touch and nothing has ever seemed more appealing to you. 

“My love,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. He peppers your neck and shoulder with kisses as he thrusts, utterly enchanted by you, fangs tracing your throat as your racing heartbeat echoes in it. 

“My love,” he replies in kind, speeding up as he can feel how soaked you’re getting. You cup his face with your hands so that you can see him properly. Oh, Astarion. Your Astarion. The moon in your sky and every star around it. 

Your cunt aches, but not from discomfort but from pleasure. You can tell you’re going to come again soon, and want it to harmonise with his own release, have the two of you crescendo together. If the way his hips are beginning to move arrythmically, erratically, you can sense he’s not far from completion either. 

“Please… inside…” you manage, and oh gods he is gone. His hips stutter as he empties himself inside of you with a little moan, flooding your cunt with hot jets of his release and toppling you over the edge with him. You sink your fingernails into his back, over his scars — those damned scars, scars he’s never going to have to be afraid of again — and cry out your pleasure.

The two of you take a moment to catch your breaths. You need it, he literally doesn’t, but feels he probably ought to take a moment anyway to let you collect your thoughts. He rolls off and lies on the bed next to you, eyes roving up and down your panting, sweat-slicked body. 

You can tell there’s a tiny hint of nervousness in him. A bite of worry that you didn’t enjoy it. To quell his mind you reach over and bring him into a slow, long, tongue-twisting kiss. He noticeably relaxes under you. 

“That was… everything,” you confess. “More of that. Please.”

He laughs. 

“Oh gods, I’ve made a monster. You’re going to be insatiable now, aren’t you?”

You playfully bite the air above his face, baring your teeth like an animal, before grimacing as your newly-abused cunt twinges. You reach between your legs and find him dripping out of you sinfully, but also that your fingers come back coated a little in red. Proof of what just happened. 

Without warning Astarion grabs your wrist and presses your bloody fingers into his mouth, sucking on them with a groan. 

“Astarion!” you shriek with a shocked giggle, reaching to grab the pillow and give him another swipe with it - but he wrestles you back into the mattress, pinning you down playfully. He kisses you again, then, and you feel the affection rolling off of him. Adoration, there’s no other word. Devoted adoration. 

“I love you, my little mage. My heart,” he confesses, in the low light of the inn’s room, face dancing in the moonlight from where the two of you didn’t bother to join the curtains. The words sound odd coming from his throat. As if he’s had no reason to say them for a long, long time. 

You’re glad you were the spark he needed. 

“I love you too.”

Whatever comes next, you’re in it together. 

Dividers by firefly-graphics!

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate@dhampling (lmk if you want to be added!) and those of you who seemed interested in the original lol: @the-littlest-bruja @ravenswritingroom @piperd06 @thedump1inhere @flustered-fawn @hopeful-n-sad

omg… could we get an astarion x reader where the reader is gale’s apprentice? she’s extremely studious and focused on her learning of magic (as gale teaches her to be) and because gale took her on as a young girl she’s never had her first kiss (much less her first time) bc she’s been so focused on her academics… mwahahahahah 😈

notes: reader’s gender isn’t mentioned, but Astarion does call you “little”! (Edit; part 2)

rating: M

words: 1.8k

pairing: astarion x reader

Taglist: bg3 Taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 (let me know if you want to be added!)

“We hope to see you soon!” calls the cashier from behind the desk, waving amicably as you leave with your arms laden with scrolls and books. You manage a smile over your shoulder, no hand free to return the kind gesture.

“I’m sure you will!” you reply. This is true. Gale has probably spent a small fortune at Sorcerous Sundries, and - with the amount of time he’s been spending with Tav recently - supply runs have fallen to you. Not that you particularly mind. It’s nice to get into the city and get away from your mentor and the de facto leader of your group making heart eyes at each other from across the camp. It’s wonderful that he’s found someone (gods know that he deserves it after all that Mystra business) but he doesn’t have to be so bloody nauseating about it.

You wait for a cart to pass, readjust your hold on the pile, and head across the road. You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t hear your name being called for a second and barrel on ahead - it’s only when you become aware of footsteps approaching that you turn.

Astarion isn’t jogging to catch you, exactly. He’s far too precious for that. But he has increased his speed to close the gap, that little smile on his face which you know can only spell trouble.

“Well, fancy running into you, my dear. Isn’t chance a fine thing?” he purrs. You raise an eyebrow.

“What, you fortuitously meeting me at the only store I ever seem to go to?”

He doesn't reply to that, instead putting a hand on his hip and cocking his head.

“It can be dangerous for a little thing like you to walk around a big city alone. Never know who might take advantage.”

He flashes his fangs with his smile, and you swear your cheeks don’t start to burn.

“I know the route back to camp perfectly well…”

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I join you then? Let me help with those books, they seem to be rather precariously perched.”

You take a moment to look him over. He’s got muscle, of course, you’ve seen him with his shirt off at camp, but you’re certain it’s all for show – you are definitely stronger than he is. Being Gale’s glorified pack mule means you have to be. But, suppressing a smile, you press half of your haul into the elf’s waiting arms and chuckle when he stumbles under the unexpected weight.

“You could suggest to your mentor that he gets into a little more light reading,” he mutters, and that makes you laugh properly. He seems pleased with himself for that. Well, more pleased with himself than he usually is, anyway - so you find yourself walking through the city streets with his company. 

And it’s… nice. You’ve never been sure what to make of Astarion. He’s a bit too cunning for your usual taste in companion, but there can be no doubt that he’s competent. He travels the city streets with a familiar ease, and when he goes to turn down an alleyway mid-conversation, you almost follow him without thinking.

Almost.

“The thing is I’m sure he eats them, but – what are you doing back there? Keep up, I won’t wait for you,” he says, waiting for you. You shuffle awkwardly, and he reads your face without you having to say a word.

“Come now, I’m not going to bite you. Not unless you want me to,” there’s that damned grin again. You harrumph, knowing full well that’s exactly why you hesitated, but not wanting to show weakness in front of him. Nothing that he can use against you. You scuttle along until you make up the distance, and fall back in step.

Soon it’s just the two of you. The city noise dies down and the sound of your boots echoes in tandem with his. He has you completely alone. He could do whatever he wanted with you. You know he wouldn’t, of course, but… you’d be lying if you said the idea didn’t thrill you, just a tiny bit.

Astarion lets out a laugh.

“Your blood’s started pumping faster. Tell me, little mage, is something making your heart pound?”

Oh, right. Vampire. The bastard is uncannily attuned to these things.

“No!” you say, quickly, but there’s not much fire behind it, no real sincerity. His lip quirks. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, you know. It’s alright to feel desire. Gale doesn’t seem to take very good care of you, after all…”

That makes you stick your tongue out and gag. You totally ignore the first part of that sentence and spit:

“Eurgh, Gale? Absolutely not! He’s like my brother. We’ve known each other since… well, for as long as I can remember, honestly,” you say. And it’s true. You love him, of course, but not like that. Maybe you’re a bit jealous of Tav but only because they’re taking up so much of his time. You’re desperate to have another magic lesson. It feels like it’s been ages since he’s taught you anything, and you’ve been somewhat demoted to his personal assistant rather than his student. You can’t be too upset, though. He does have that tadpole in his head, so things are probably a lot more pressing to him than teaching you how to properly refine your Fireball spell. 

Astarion sees how introspective you’ve become. You have a habit of chewing on your lip when you’re lost in thought, and he’s become quite partial to it. It’s… sweet. Secretly he’s become quite partial to you. You’re endearing, bullheadedly stubborn, but sincere and enthusiastic. A bright spark in a dark world and he is drawn to you, whether he wants to be or not. 

He’s harbouring something for you, and doesn’t quite want to admit what that might be. So he teases. 

“You really do take up all of your time with studying, don’t you?”

You shrug as much as you can beneath your armful of books. 

“Wouldn’t you, if you had the best tutor around? Wouldn’t you want to learn every single thing you possibly could?”

“All that time squirrelled away over a spell book. I wonder if you’ve ever even been kissed.”

You stop dead. Ah, he thinks. Got you. 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you snap, but you know your voice wobbles a little. A bit of a sore spot if you’re honest. Seeing Gale and Tav has made you realise that, actually, maybe there is something you long for. Something more. 

“Ahh, so you haven’t. There’s no shame in that, little mage.”

Your cheeks are burning. You can’t look him in the eye. Thank the gods the two of you are alone, you wouldn’t want anyone to see you so flabbergasted. 

“I’m… you’re…” you struggle to find words to adequately express how you feel. Furious. Embarrassed? A whole tide of things all at once, rooting you to the ground. 

He walks closer. If he was living, you’d be able to feel the heat coming off of him. He puts his pile of books on the top of a part-built wall, then takes yours to do the same. You don’t resist. 

“Would you like to be kissed?”

You manage to drag your eyes up from the ground to meet his gaze, searching it for any hint of insincerity. He is teasing you, a bit, but… his eyes are surprisingly soft. 

He means it. 

And before you can think it over, you nod. 

His lips are soft. Far softer than you expected for a vampire. His kiss gently presses your mouth open, allowing for a lithe and curious swipe of his tongue. You eagerly accept it, voice catching in your throat a little in a half-rendered moan. 

He tastes like mint. It’s fresh. It’s sweet. 

You want more. 

Carefully you put a hand on either one of his biceps, a gentle test of the muscle there. It might be only for show, but it’s firm enough for you to enjoy how it feels in your grip. You sense him smile against your mouth and deepen the kiss, running his fingers up the length of your arm until he can cup your face; grip the back of your head.

When he walks you back to press up against the alleyway wall, you trust him; and when he hooks your collar down with a single long finger, exposing your neck, that half-moan comes back with full force. 

“That’s it,” he sighs, feather-light, “let me hear you, you sweet thing.”

His mouth leaves yours in order to kiss a long line down your jugular. His teeth ghost the skin there, but he never threatens to bite. 

Not unless you want me to. 

You find yourself trusting him absolutely. His tongue flicks against your pulse and you thrust your hips forward inadvertently. It’s an impulse. An instinct. But it has an impact, and you hear Astarion catch his breath just a bit. 

“Where have you been hiding all this?” he asks, gravel filling his voice as you thread your fingers into his hair. 

“Maybe you never gave me a reason to show it to you.”

He seems to like that answer, so when he slips his leg between yours, presses his thigh up to your sex… gods, you start to rock against him without a second thought. 

It’s good. It feels good. Good in a way only your own hands have ever made you feel, late at night, beneath your bedroll with fucking Astarion, Astarion, Astarion running through your head. 

“Look at you. All desperate for me. What do you want me to do, little mage? Where do you want me to touch?”

You take his hand and guide it down your body, yes gods yes to the apex of your legs, and —

Greetings! Hope I’m not catching you at a bad moment, but need those books at camp ASAP. Do let me know when you’ll be back!

Gale’s Sending is like a cold bucket of ice through your body, and you freeze under Astarion’s ministrations. The moment is utterly shattered. A hand on his chest moves him away and he acquiesces, confused but not pushing back. 

“Hello Gale,” you sigh out loud, letting the elf know the reason for the interruption. “Will be back as soon as possible. Not too far from the camp now. Sorry for the delay. Got a little… held up.”

And then you’re just standing there. In an alley. With Astarion. And you feel very silly all of a sudden, very small. Once again your eyes drop to the floor and you start grabbing the books, quickly, anything to distract you from how humiliated you feel. You’re not sure if it’s because you let yourself give into him so easily or if it’s because you didn’t want him to stop — and you’re a bit terrified at how far you’d have let him go. 

“I’ll see you at camp,” you manage to stutter out, before practically running away. 

Astarion watches you go. Your departure stings. 

not to be buck wild but:

astarion x LG!paladin!Tav scenario. (cw: spanking, mild brat taming. minors dni)

he’s tired with how damned good you are, how nice and always trying to do the right thing, and yes maybe he seduced you into bed a little while ago and it was amazing and afterwards you held him and looked into his eyes and stroked his face and he felt more seen and protected than he had in two hundred years but —

but—!

you’re so… bloody… ugh. you’re so you. and if he looks at himself in your light for too long he begins to realise how small he is. how pathetic.

how could someone like you really feel anything for someone like him?

so one night he goes to do a bit of light pilfering at the emerald grove. it’s not too far and he can sneak in over the walls, they’re not that well protected after all, and picks the things he thinks nobody will miss. a few gold here, a necklace there, a couple of potions—

and he thinks he’s gotten away with it until he comes back and finds you waiting in his tent.

you look softer without all that armour on, but no less broad. he can see the way your muscles glint in the low candle light. it makes him salivate, and not just for the blood he can taste from here that’s thrumming through you.

you ask him where he’s been, and he tells a lie (of course he does). you see right through it though. he finds himself obeying when you tell him to empty his pockets. the look of disappointment on your face is worse than any anger. he starts to defend himself, asking what you expected of him, he prides himself on sneakery, and —

you interrupt him by telling him to “come here”.

he obeys. he can feel himself getting hard. he’s so humiliated by it, but he knows the first time you touch him he’ll be gone.

slowly you pull him into your lap, then over your knee. his cock stirs in curiosity as you put your hand on his arse cheek, telling him clearly he’s going to have to learn with a slightly firmer touch. if he’s going to be a brat he’ll be treated like one.

you look into his eyes for consent. even now, you care. care about him.

he nods.

the first smack steals the breath from his lungs - breath not needed but inhaled when he saw you in his tent. his cock goes from half-mast to full.

the second has him mewling, rutting against your thigh. you move it just far enough to stop him and he realises he has become desperate embarrassingly quickly.

by the third he’s moaning, arse smarting but each little sting dancing through his body like lightning. he begins to leak in his britches, impossibly aroused just from this.

you keep going until he’s a blubbering mess across your lap. all he can do is lie there as his head empties, desiring only your touch.

eventually you ask him if he wants to cum. he begs, fucking begs, but he’s too blissed out to care how needy he’s become - as your hand snakes round to cup him it only takes a couple of strokes over his trousers until he’s releasing in them, cumming in his pants like a teenager.

you stay there for a moment, still, until eventually he feels you using your Lay on Hands to heal the ache in his cheeks. he grumbles - he would have been happy to carry about the smarting feeling - but then you sit him up and check he’s alright. touch his face and mutter how good he is, asking if he’s seriously hurt.

he thinks once again: even now, you care.

he’s never had that before.

the next day you make him return everything he stole. he can’t look at your thighs without wanting to be laid out over them again.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @hopeful-n-sad

I bet when Arabella joined camp, she was bothering more than just Withers with her questions. She was probably asking everyone there whatever came to mind.

All hell broke loose when she got to Astarion and asked, “If you’re a vampire, then why do you look so old?”

I'd like to apologize to my mother, to the Gods, but most of all I want to apologize to my friend and long-suffering wizard, Gale of Waterdeep

Act 1 was rough for Maeve and Astarion's relationship. Didn't last forever, though!

( Text based on posts from tumblr that I now cannot find due to the accursed search function!

Backgrounds by Rick van den Berg, environmental artist from Larian Studios! )

served my duty as an autistic artist and made a bunch of autism creature reaction images

Tumblr Code.

Maybe it's just my proximity to middle age, but for my money, Halsin is the most attractive romanceable character in BG3 by a mile. He's kind. He's courteous. He takes responsibility for his mistakes and undertakes to fix them without roping you into a bunch of drama about it and then goes on to help you save the world just because he likes you. He's a leader with a healthy ambivalence about leadership. He's effectively an eco-socialist with deep and abiding convictions about the treatment of the underprivileged, especially children. He is passionately romantic about you while also decrying the constraints and jealousies compulsory monogamy. AND he's built like a brick shithouse and will fuck your brains out. I'm just not seeing what's not to love about this man.

i think one of my fave subtropes of enemies to friends to lovers is watching "[petname]" (derogatory) 😒 become "[petname]" (affectionate) 🥺 and ultimately "[pername] (desperate) 🥵

There should be more fanfic that utilize the tadpole mindlink…I don’t think I’ve read a single story that really utilizes its potential for kink.

Someone’s having sex? Now everyone knows/can feel it

Accidently broadcasting a lewd thought to the others, or hearing their lewd thoughts

Tadpole to tadpole mind sex

Incorporating the tadpoles subtly using these methods to manipulate their hosts into being more compliant

druid gf

words to use when writing

Appetite:

craving, demand, gluttony, greed, hunger, inclination, insatiable, longing, lust, passion, ravenousness, relish, taste, thirst, urge, voracity, weakness, willingness, yearning, ardor, dedication, desire, devotion, enthusiasm, excitement, fervor, horny, intensity, keenness, wholeheartedness, zeal

Arouse:

agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up

Assault:

attack, advancing, aggressive, assailing, charging, incursion, inundated, invasion, offensive, onset, onslaught, overwhelmed, ruinous, tempestuous, strike, violation, ambush, assail, barrage, bombard, bombardment, crackdown, wound

Beautiful: 

admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, bewitching, charming, dazzling, delicate, delightful, divine, elegant, enticing, exquisite, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, grand, magnificent, marvelous, pleasing, radiant, ravishing, resplendent, splendid, stunning, sublime, attractive, beguiling, captivating, enchanting, engaging, enthralling, eye-catching, fetching, fine, fine-looking, good-looking, handsome, inviting, lovely, mesmeric, mesmerizing, pretty, rakish, refined, striking, tantalizing, tempting

Brutal:

atrocious, barbarous, bloodthirsty, callous, cruel, feral, ferocious, hard, harsh, heartless, inhuman, merciless, murderous, pitiless, remorseless, rough, rude, ruthless, savage, severe, terrible, unmerciful, vicious, bestial, brute, brutish, cold-blooded, fierce, gory, nasty, rancorous, sadistic, uncompromising, unfeeling, unforgiving, unpitying, violent, wild

Burly:

able-bodied, athletic, beefy, big, brawny, broad-shouldered, bulky, dense, enormous, great, hard, hardy, hearty, heavily built, heavy, hefty, huge, husky, immense, large, massive, muscular, mighty, outsized, oversized, powerful, powerfully built, prodigious, robust, solid, stalwart, stocky, stout, strapping, strong, strongly built, sturdy, thick, thickset, tough, well-built, well-developed

Carnal:

animalistic, bodily, impure, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, libidinous, licentious, lustful, physical, prurient, salacious, sensuous, voluptuous, vulgar, wanton, , coarse, crude, dirty, raunchy, rough, unclean

Dangerous:

alarming, critical, fatal, formidable, impending, malignant, menacing, mortal, nasty, perilous, precarious, pressing, serious, terrible, threatening, treacherous, urgent, vulnerable, wicked, acute, damaging, deadly, death-defying, deathly, destructive, detrimental, explosive, grave, harmful, hazardous, injurious, lethal, life-threatening, noxious, poisonous, risky, severe, terrifying, toxic, unsafe, unstable, venomous

Dark:

atrocious, corrupt, forbidding, foul, infernal, midnight, morbid, ominous, sinful, sinister, somber, threatening, twilight, vile, wicked, abject, alarming, appalling, baleful, bizarre, bleak, bloodcurdling, boding evil, chilling, cold, condemned, creepy, damned, daunting, demented, desolate, dire, dismal, disturbing, doomed, dour, dread, dreary, dusk, eerie, fear, fearsome, frightening, ghastly, ghostly, ghoulish, gloom, gloomy, grave, grim, grisly, gruesome, hair-raising, haunted, hideous, hopeless, horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifying, horror, ill-fated, ill-omened, ill-starred, inauspicious, inhospitable, looming, lost, macabre, malice, malignant, menacing, murky, mysterious, night, panic, pessimistic, petrifying, scary, shadows, shadowy, shade, shady, shocking, soul-destroying, sour, spine-chilling, spine-tingling, strange, terrifying, uncanny, unearthly, unlucky, unnatural, unnerving, weird, wretched

Delicious:

enticing, exquisite, luscious, lush, rich, savory, sweet, tasty, tempting, appetizing, delectable, flavorsome, full of flavor, juicy, lip-smacking, mouth-watering, piquant, relish, ripe, salty, spicy, scrummy, scrumptious, succulent, tangy, tart, tasty, yummy, zesty

Ecstasy:

delectation, delirium, elation, euphoria, fervor, frenzy, joy, rapture, transport, bliss, excitement, happiness, heaven, high, paradise, rhapsody, thrill, blissful, delighted, elated, extremely happy, in raptures (of delight), in seventh heaven, jubilant, on cloud nine, overexcited, overjoyed, rapturous, thrilled

Ecstatic:

delirious, enraptured, euphoric, fervent, frenzied, joyous, transported, wild

Erotic:

amatory, amorous, aphrodisiac, carnal, earthy, erogenous, fervid, filthy, hot, impassioned, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, raw, romantic, rousing, salacious, seductive, sensual, sexual, spicy, steamy, stimulating, suggestive, titillating, voluptuous, tantalizing

Gasp:

catch of breath, choke, gulp, heave, inhale, pant, puff, snort, wheeze, huff, rasp, sharp intake of air, short of breath, struggle for breath, swallow, winded 

Heated:

ardent, avid, excited, fervent, fervid, fierce, fiery, frenzied, furious, impassioned, intense, passionate, raging, scalding, scorched, stormy, tempestuous, vehement, violent, ablaze, aflame, all-consuming, blazing, blistering, burning, crazed, explosive, febrile, feverish, fired up, flaming, flushed, frantic, hot, hot-blooded, impatient, incensed, maddening, obsessed, possessed, randy, searing, sizzling, smoldering, sweltering, torrid, turbulent, volatile, worked up, zealous

Hunger:

appetite, ache, craving, gluttony, greed, longing, lust, mania, mouth-watering, ravenous, voracious, want, yearning, thirst

Hungry:

avid, carnivorous, covetous, craving, eager, greedy, hungered, rapacious, ravenous, starved, unsatisfied, voracious, avaricious, desirous, famished, grasping, insatiable, keen, longing, predatory, ravening, starving, thirsty, wanting

Intense:

forceful, severe, passionate, acute, agonizing, ardent, anxious, biting, bitter, burning, close, consuming, cutting, deep, eager, earnest, excessive, exquisite, extreme, fervent, fervid, fierce, forcible, great, harsh, impassioned, keen, marked, piercing, powerful, profound, severe, sharp, strong, vehement, violent, vivid, vigorous

Liquid:

damp, cream, creamy, dripping, ichorous, juicy, moist, luscious, melted, moist, pulpy, sappy, soaking, solvent, sopping, succulent, viscous, wet / aqueous, broth, elixir, extract, flux, juice, liquor, nectar, sap, sauce, secretion, solution, vitae, awash, moisture, boggy, dewy, drenched, drip, drop, droplet, drowning, flood, flooded, flowing, fountain, jewel, leaky, milky, overflowing, saturated, slick, slippery, soaked, sodden, soggy, stream, swamp, tear, teardrop, torrent, waterlogged, watery, weeping

Lithe:

agile, lean, pliant, slight, spare, sinewy, slender, supple, deft, fit, flexible, lanky, leggy, limber, lissom, lissome, nimble, sinuous, skinny, sleek, slender, slim, svelte, trim, thin, willowy, wiry

Moan:

beef, cry, gripe, grouse, grumble, lament, lamentation, plaint, sob, wail, whine, bemoan, bewail, carp, deplore, grieve, gripe, grouse, grumble, keen, lament, sigh, sob, wail, whine, mewl

Moving:

(exciting,) affecting, effective  arousing, awakening, breathless, dynamic, eloquent, emotional, emotive, expressive, fecund, far-out, felt in gut, grabbed by, gripping, heartbreaking, heartrending, impelling, impressive, inspirational, meaningful, mind-bending, mind-blowing, motivating, persuasive, poignant, propelling, provoking, quickening, rallying, rousing, significant, stimulating, simulative, stirring, stunning, touching, awe-inspiring, energizing, exhilarating, fascinating, heart pounding, heart stopping, inspiring, riveting, thrilling

Need:

compulsion, demand, desperate, devoir, extremity, impatient longing, must, urge, urgency / desire, appetite, avid, burn, craving, eagerness, fascination, greed, hunger, insatiable, longing, lust, taste, thirst, voracious, want, yearning, ache, addiction, aspiration, desire, fever, fixation, hankering, hope, impulse, inclination, infatuation, itch, obsession, passion, pining, wish, yen

Pain: 

ache, afflict, affliction, agony, agonize, anguish, bite, burn, chafe, distress, fever, grief, hurt, inflame, laceration, misery, pang, punish, sting, suffering, tenderness, throb, throe, torment, torture, smart

Painful:

aching, agonizing, arduous, awful, biting, burning, caustic, dire, distressing, dreadful, excruciating, extreme, grievous, inflamed, piercing, raw, sensitive, severe, sharp, tender, terrible, throbbing, tormenting, angry, bleeding, bloody, bruised, cutting, hurting, injured, irritated, prickly, skinned, smarting, sore, stinging, unbearable, uncomfortable, upsetting, wounded

Perverted: 

aberrant, abnormal, corrupt, debased, debauched, defiling, depraved, deviant, monstrous, tainted, twisted, vicious, warped, wicked, abhorrent, base, decadent, degenerate, degrading, dirty, disgusting, dissipated, dissolute, distasteful, hedonistic, immodest, immoral, indecent, indulgent, licentious, nasty, profligate, repellent, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, shameful, shameless, sickening, sinful, smutty, sordid, unscrupulous, vile 

Pleasurable:

charming, gratifying, luscious, satisfying, savory, agreeable, delicious, delightful, enjoyable, nice, pleasant, pleasing, soothing, succulent

Pleasure:

bliss, delight, gluttony, gratification, relish, satisfaction, thrill, adventure, amusement, buzz, contentment, delight, desire, ecstasy, enjoyment, excitement, fun, happiness, harmony, heaven, joy, kick, liking, paradise, seventh heaven 

Rapacious:

avaricious, ferocious, furious, greedy, predatory, ravening, ravenous, savage, voracious, aggressive, gluttonous, grasping, insatiable, marauding, plundering

Rapture:

bliss, ecstasy, elation, exaltation, glory, gratification, passion, pleasure, floating, unbridled joy

Rigid:

adamant, austere, definite, determined, exact, firm, hard, rigorous, solid, stern, uncompromising, unrelenting, unyielding, concrete, fixed, harsh, immovable, inflexible, obstinate, resolute, resolved, severe, steadfast, steady, stiff, strong, strict, stubborn, taut, tense, tight, tough, unbending, unchangeable, unwavering

Sudden:

abrupt, accelerated, acute, fast, flashing, fleeting, hasty, headlong, hurried, immediate, impetuous, impulsive, quick, quickening, rapid, rash, rushing, swift, brash, brisk, brusque, instant, instantaneous, out of the blue, reckless, rushed, sharp, spontaneous, urgent, without warning

Thrust:

(forward) advance, drive, forge, impetus, impulsion, lunge, momentum, onslaught, poke, pressure, prod, propulsion, punch, push, shove, power, proceed, progress, propel

(push hard) assail, assault, attack, bear down, buck, drive, force, heave, impale, impel, jab, lunge, plunge, press, pound, prod, ram, shove, stab, transfix, urge, bang, burrow, cram, gouge, jam, pierce, punch, slam, spear, spike, stick

Thunder-struck:

amazed, astonished, aghast, astounded, awestruck, confounded, dazed, dazed, dismayed, overwhelmed, shocked, staggered, startled, stunned, gob-smacked, bewildered, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, horrified, incredulous, surprised, taken aback 

Torment:

agony, anguish, hurt, misery, pain, punishment, suffering, afflict, angst, conflict, distress, grief, heartache, misfortune, nightmare, persecute, plague, sorrow, strife, tease, test, trial, tribulation, torture, turmoil, vex, woe

Touch:

(physical) - blow, brush, caress, collide, come together, contact, converge, crash, cuddle, embrace, feel, feel up, finger, fondle, frisk, glance, glide, graze, grope, handle, hit, hug, impact, join, junction, kiss, lick, line, manipulate, march, massage, meet, nudge, palm, partake, pat, paw, peck, pet, pinch, probe, push, reach, rub, scratch, skim, slide, smooth, strike, stroke, suck, sweep, tag, tap, taste, thumb, tickle, tip, touching, toy, bite, bump, burrow, buss, bury, circle, claw, clean, clutch, cover, creep, crush, cup, curl, delve, dig, drag, draw, ease, edge, fiddle with, flick, flit, fumble, grind, grip, grub, hold, huddle, knead, lap, lave, lay a hand on, maneuver, manhandle, mash, mold, muzzle, neck, nestle, nibble, nip, nuzzle, outline, play, polish, press, pull, rasp, ravish, ream, rim, run, scoop, scrabble, scrape, scrub, shave, shift, shunt, skate, slip, slither, smack, snake, snuggle, soothe, spank, splay, spread, squeeze, stretch, swipe, tangle, tease, thump, tongue, trace, trail, tunnel twiddle, twirl, twist, tug, work, wrap 

(mental) - communicate, examine, inspect, perception, scrutinize

Wet:

bathe, bleed, burst, cascade, course, cover, cream, damp, dampen, deluge, dip, douse, drench, dribble, drip, drizzle, drool, drop, drown, dunk, erupt, flood, flow, gush, immerse, issue, jet, leach, leak, moisten, ooze, overflow, permeate, plunge, pour, rain, rinse, run, salivate, saturate, secrete, seep, shower, shoot, slaver, slobber, slop, slosh, sluice, spill, soak, souse, spew, spit, splash, splatter, spout, spray, sprinkle, spurt, squirt, steep, stream, submerge, surge, swab, swamp, swill, swim, trickle, wash, water

Wicked:

abominable, amoral, atrocious, awful, base, barbarous, dangerous, debased, depraved, distressing, dreadful, evil, fearful, fiendish, fierce, foul, heartless, hazardous, heinous, immoral, indecent, intense, mean, nasty, naughty, nefarious, offensive, profane, scandalous, severe, shameful, shameless, sinful, terrible, unholy, vicious, vile, villainous, wayward, bad, criminal, cruel, deplorable, despicable, devious, ill-intentioned, impious, impish, iniquitous, irreverent, loathsome, Machiavellian, mad, malevolent, malicious, merciless, mischievous, monstrous, perverse, ruthless, spiteful, uncaring, unkind, unscrupulous, vindictive, virulent, wretched

Writhe: 

agonize, bend, jerk, recoil, lurch, plunge, slither, squirm, struggle, suffer, thrash, thresh, twist, wiggle, wriggle, angle, arc, bow, buck, coil, contort, convulse, curl, curve, fidget, fight, flex, go into spasm, grind, heave, jiggle, jolt, kick, rear, reel, ripple, resist, roll, lash, lash out, screw up, shake, shift, slide, spasm, stir, strain, stretch, surge, swell, swivel, thrust, turn violently, tussle, twitch, undulate, warp, worm, wrench, wrestle, yank 

Hi hi! I absolutely adore your astarion smut and I saw you were looking for ideas sooooo, how about reader being distracted watching him work with his hands?? Like he could be sat fixing his shirt with a sewing needle, flicking book pages or lockpicking- whatever- but it has an effect, his nimble, veiny hands being just soo good at things that he can’t help but notice just how zoned out and squirmy they get.. some teasing and loving jokes about it ensue until maybe one thing leads to another and he’s sat behind his pretty tav fingering them, bringing them to the edge over and over, whispering and nipping, carefully mocking them about somthing as simple as his hands getting them going.. just making them melt.. idkkkk man it gets me just thinking about it pahahah

Hi, anon! This was a WONDERFUL prompt to get me out of my smut rut. Hope you enjoy! xoxoxo

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

A Lesson in Lockpicking

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings/Tags: Hand kink, praise kink, semi-public sex, mild exhibitionism, teasing, vaginal fingering, smut with a little plot

Summary: Astarion notices you watching him pick some locks. He offers to give you a lesson you won't soon forget.

*****

It was unfair, really. No one should have hands as lovely and dexterous as he did. 

You were practically salivating, watching Astarion’s nimble fingers pick lock after lock in the underground bank vault that you and the party had happened to stumble upon. While the others were far too distracted by crates of silks and gold troves, you had eyes only for Astarion. Or, more specifically, Astarion’s hands. 

The others were slowly pilfering their way around the cavernous room, pocketing what they could without encumbering themselves. But not you. 

No, you were too entranced by the movements of the rogue before you, as he worked to release the heavily rusted lock on one of the many jewel-encrusted chests scattered about the vault. You bit your lip, studying the way the tendons in his hands flexed and relaxed with every twist and fidget of the wrench and pick he held. His long, slender fingers balanced the tools with a graceful sort of ease that you knew could only come from years of practice. And the way he curled his wrist while manipulating those tools, it was almost too much to bear. 

You blushed as you realized you had subconsciously clamped your thighs together, your body desperate to relieve some of the growing tension within you. 

Gods above, you hoped that if anyone – especially Astarion – noticed your intense gaze, it could be chalked up to your excitement over another chest opened. Surely that made sense given the circumstances. Right? It was embarrassing enough to catch yourself squirming over just his hands doing some mundane task, let alone having someone else realize it. 

Within seconds, Astarion had the lock released. Tossing it carelessly to the side, he heaved open the lid of the old chest to reveal the contents within. Another heaping mound of gold and jewels, same as the rest. Clearly unimpressed, he rose from his crouch and slunk over to the next locked chest, beginning the process again.

Gods, you needed some air. Needed to be anywhere else but watching him pick another lock open. With a tight cough and shake of the head, you mumbled a “nice job” as you skirted by him, desperate to put some distance between yourself and those mesmerizing hands of his. 

*****

He had known why you were watching him so intently earlier in the day. Of course he had known. Even without his heightened sense of smell alerting him to your arousal (thank you elven heritage and vampiric consolation prizes), your expression in his peripheral vision told him everything he needed to know. 

You were coveting. But not for the gold in the old chest he had popped open in record time. 

No, your eyes had been focused singularly on him. On his hands. And sure, knowing this, perhaps he had embellished his movements a bit more than necessary. Perhaps he’d slid his fingers across his tools with a more lascivious flourish than lockpicking ever required. And perhaps he’d curled his wrist suggestively as he released the tension from those over-wound lock pins. But, oh, the way you had squirmed and clenched your thighs together as he did so was worth every second of that exaggerated performance. 

So enamored with his hands, you’d neglected to see the smirk ripple across his features as the lock opened with a muted snick. 

All the better for him, though. 

Your starving expression had produced so many entertaining ideas in his mind while he worked. 

And what made those ideas all the more enticing? You had no idea of the plans he had in store for tonight. 

*****

It was late. Everyone else had retired to their tents for the evening, but you had volunteered to take the first watch. Like most nights, it was fairly quiet, nothing but the sound of crickets chirping and owls hooting in the distance.

You were stoking the fire with fresh tinder as you caught sight of Astarion reentering the camp. He was whistling some bawdy tune you recalled from the pubs of Baldur’s Gate while he sauntered toward you, tossing and catching some metallic thing that flashed in the firelight. 

“What’s that you’ve got?” you whispered as he drew closer, mindful of your sleeping compatriots. 

“Practice lock,” Astarion replied, tossing you the object. You turned it over in your hands, noticing its striking resemblance to one of the locks he’d picked earlier in the day. 

“Why are you giving me this?” you questioned, eying him warily. 

“I caught you watching me today, darling. I assumed you were too shy to ask for… lessons,” he supplied. 

He had an innocent-enough tone, but still, it had you gulping audibly. Did he intend a double meaning to his words, or were you just desperately lusting after him? You couldn’t be sure. It certainly meant he had noticed your staring earlier, but far be it from you to correct the narrative he had formed in his mind. You would rather be buried alive than admit the truth to him right now. 

No Astarion, I couldn’t give a damn about lockpicking. I just can’t stop watching your hands and thinking about all the ways I’d wish you’d use them on me. Even the idea of that confession caused a blush to bloom across your neck and cheeks. 

You cleared your throat and nodded. “Right. You’re right. Thank you for offering.”

His smile widened. “Of course. I was thinking,” he began, as he circled around you, graceful as always. Like a feline cornering their dinner. 

“We could have our first lesson tonight. Right now,” he continued. 

You shivered, unable to see him any longer, but feeling him close behind you. 

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” you asked weakly. 

You both felt and heard his chuckle by your ear, his breath blowing tendrils of your loose hair into your periphery. He’d gotten so close without you even realizing. His preternatural stillness was always catching you off guard. 

“Oh no, darling. It’s the perfect time for it, I think,” Astarion murmured. You shivered again as his nose traced a path up the column of your neck. “Let me show you.”

“All right,” you whispered, desire choking your voice into some muted, demure thing. 

You clenched your jaw, commanding yourself to remain calm, as you felt him settle around you. Felt his body press snugly against you. You watched as his long legs stretched to bar you in while he circled his arms around you, resting his forearms on bended knees. His chest was flush against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder. You knew if you turned your head, your lips would be close enough to touch. 

You were effectively caged within his embrace. Even fully clothed, it felt electric, everywhere his body touched yours. It took everything within you just to maintain your breathing. 

Your eyes tracked his every move, as one hand moved to pluck the lock still clutched in your fingers, while the other hand revealed a simple lockpick – a long metal stem with a tiny curved hook at the end. 

“It’s simple, really,” he murmured. “Do it once, and you’ll never forget.”

“Is that so?” you replied.

“Mm, quite so,” he crooned. You could hear the grin in his voice. 

“Watch me,” he continued, as he held the lock in one hand and inserted the pick with the other. 

You obeyed, taking in every minute movement of his fingers as he twisted the pick this way and that. This close, you could truly appreciate his beautiful porcelain skin. The way the blue-gray veins underneath snaked around each knuckle of his hand, a delicate webbing that came alive with each fidget of his fingers. The dance they performed against the tendons in his hand, as they rose and fell while he continued to work. 

A quiet snick, and the lock handle popped open in his palm. 

You blinked, impressed by how quickly he’d managed to free the pins within. 

“See? Simple. Now you try,” he whispered. 

You felt your stomach drop. 

Fuck. You were utterly, completely fucked.

You hadn’t been watching the actual pick at all. You hadn’t the slightest clue how he’d maneuvered the tool. Once again, you’d been far too distracted by his hands. 

You remained still, hesitating to accept the lock and pick he now offered.

“Is there a problem, darling?” he crooned after a moment’s pause. You could hear it again, that grin in his voice. 

You turned your head slightly to take in his expression. There was mischief in his eyes, that much was unmistakable. Whatever game he was playing with you, you could tell he was enjoying it immensely. 

“I, um… I think I may need to see you do it again. I’m not sure I’m ready,” you confessed in a hoarse voice. 

“Oh, but you were watching my hands so intently! I doubt you missed a thing,” he chuckled, his eyes alight with amusement. 

Gods damn it all, you thought to yourself, eyes roving across his face. Taking in the telltale signs in his expression.

He knew. He’s probably known this whole time. 

You sighed, surrendering to the heat of the blush that was now coloring your entire face and neck. 

“You know I haven’t been watching the pick, Astarion,” you murmured.

“Whatever do you mean, darling?” he gasped in mock surprise. “What could you have been watching then?”

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to face the campfire once more. “You know already, you ass,” you grumbled.

“Tsk, tsk. Evading my questions and now name calling? Honestly, darling, I thought we had something special,” he pouted. 

You groaned, smacking one hand against your forehead. His teasing would be the death of you. 

“I was watching your hands,” you groused. 

“My hands? Whatever for?”

“Gods damn you, Astarion. You’re really going to make me say it?” you snapped, whipping your head around again to glare at him. 

“Oh, I really am,” he chuckled. His shit-eating grin did little to lessen your embarrassment. 

“Fine. Fine!,” you spouted, exasperated. “I like watching you work with your hands. It… gets me… excited. And then, I start thinking about all of the other things I’d like you to do with your hands…” you paused.

“And?” he prompted. His teasing expression was gone, replaced with something more akin to what you had been feeling for him all day. 

“And… and I think about how I’d like you to use your hands on me,” you finished in a whisper, mouth watering at the look of anticipation on his face. 

“All you had to do was ask, darling,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you as his hands slipped down to the front of your breeches. With deft hands, he loosened the knot there and pulled the strings free from their bindings, jerking the leathers down past your hip bones.

You gasped and keened back against his chest as you felt his fingers slip beneath the fabric, skimming past the tuft of curls to brush against your swollen clit, slick with arousal. 

Astarion groaned. “Fuck, you’re absolutely drenched. Is this all for me?” he asked, as his fingers drew slow, languid circles against you. 

You mewled a pathetic “yes” as your hips subconsciously rutted up, pressing yourself harder against his fingers. 

“Just from watching my hands, darling? Just from watching me pick a rusted lock?” he teased. 

You huffed and nodded your assent. 

“Naughty thing, you,” Astarion chuckled, trailing the fingers of his other hand against your entrance, barely entering you with one finger before removing it entirely. 

You whined your disapproval, inching yourself forward in an effort to communicate how much you needed those fingers inside you. 

“Shh, shh,” he admonished, kissing your temple. “We don’t want to wake the others, now do we?”

“No,” you breathed, burrowing your face into his neck to muffle your noises. “I’ll be quiet.”

“That’s my good girl,” he cooed, slipping two fingers inside you. The sudden fullness caused you to groan desperately against his skin, becoming a long, drawn-out noise as he began pumping them with sure, deft strokes. 

“No, we can’t have them see you getting finger fucked by the rogue in the firelight,” he whispered, working you now with both hands. “Although, I think the wicked part of you likes the idea of getting caught like this, hmm? Part of you wants them to see how I’m taking you, so easily, right under their noses? In the middle of camp? You want them to see how well I fuck you into oblivion with only my hands. You want them to hear and see how I make you moan.”

With his fingers on your clit and three knuckles deep in your cunt, you were far too gone to form an articulate response. His voice, so alluring it was sinful, only stoked the growing inferno within your lower body. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried against the column of his neck, both an admission and a plea. “Yes, Astarion, yes.”

“I know, I know. You naughty, precious thing. My sweet girl. My wicked one,” he cooed, planting kisses along your cheek and temple. “You’re doing so well. Making this so easy for me, love.”

You whined at his words, relishing the sound of his voice as it uttered the sweetest and most deplorable things. You nearly saw stars as he slipped a third finger inside you, thrusting into you harder as his fingers drew tighter and tighter circles around your clit. 

“You can’t last much longer now, can you, darling?” he whispered. “Not when I’m fucking you like this, hmm? Tell me. Tell me how much you want to come.”

“Please, gods, please, Astarion. Let me come,” you pleaded, covering your mouth with your hands now to try to quiet your noises. It was becoming almost impossible to keep quiet. You could feel your release barreling through your body, desperate to spring free.

“I want you to. I want you to, my sweet one,” he responded between kisses. “I want to feel you clamp around me, knowing it was my hands that turned you into this pliant, mewling little thing.”

“Yes,” you moaned in agreement. “Yes, please.”

“Take your hands off your mouth, darling,” he whispered hoarsely against your jaw as his fingers ratcheted up their pace. “If you’re going to scream for me, I want everyone to hear it.”

It was the last push you needed before freefalling into ecstasy. Your climax rocketed through your body as his name burst from your lips, your hands freed from your mouth to clutch his thighs in a vice-like grip. 

You were so lost to the sensation, you couldn’t tell how loud you had cried Astarion’s name. You simply melted back into his embrace, absorbing the aftershocks of your release while he held you snugly against him. 

“Good girl. So good for me. So very good,” he whispered praises while his hands trailed errant patterns across the goosefleshed skin of your arms. 

“Did anyone hear us?” you whispered after a while, blinking open your eyes to take in his expression. 

He laughed, causing you to bounce lightly against his chest. “Oh, I’m sure they did. You sang like a songbird for me, darling.”

You huffed in annoyance, too relaxed to drum up much more irritation.

“If anyone complains, I’m going to tell them it was your fault,” you grumbled. 

“I suppose that’s fair. I’ll apologize to them on behalf of my hands, since that’s what started it all,” he smirked. 

Some of my favorite words and phrases to describe a character in pain

coiling (up in a ball, in on themselves, against something, etc)

panting (there’s a slew of adjectives you can put after this, my favorites are shakily, weakly, etc)

keeling over (synonyms are words like collapsing, which is equally as good but overused in media)

trembling/shivering (additional adjectives could be violently, uncontrollably, etc)

sobbing (weeping is a synonym but i’ve never liked that word. also love using sob by itself, as a noun, like “he let out a quiet sob”)

whimpering (love hitting the wips with this word when a character is weak, especially when the pain is subsiding. also love using it for nightmares/attacks and things like that)

clinging (to someone or something, maybe even to themselves or their own clothes)

writhing/thrashing (maybe someone’s holding them down, or maybe they’re in bed alone)

crying (not actual tears. cry as in a shrill, sudden shout)

dazed (usually after the pain has subsided, or when adrenaline is still flowing)

wincing (probably overused but i love this word. synonym could be grimacing)

doubling-over (kinda close to keeling over but they don’t actually hit the ground, just kinda fold in on themselves)

heaving (i like to use it for describing the way someone’s breathing, ex. “heaving breaths” but can also be used for the nasty stuff like dry heaving or vomiting)

gasping/sucking/drawing in a breath (or any other words and phrases that mean a sharp intake of breath, that shite is gold)

murmuring/muttering/whispering (or other quiet forms of speaking after enduring intense pain)

hiccuping/spluttering/sniffling (words that generally imply crying without saying crying. the word crying is used so much it kinda loses its appeal, that’s why i like to mix other words like these in)

stuttering (or other general terms that show an impaired ability to speak — when someone’s in intense pain, it gets hard to talk)

staggering/stumbling (there is a difference between pain that makes you not want to stand, and pain that makes it impossible to stand. explore that!)

recoiling/shrinking away (from either the threat or someone trying to help)

pleading/begging (again, to the threat, someone trying to help, or just begging the pain to stop)

Feel free to add your favorites or most used in the comments/reblogs!

the better strategy. / masterlist

After successfully saving Druid Grove, Astarion has one goal in mind: secure his safety. His strategy? Seduce Tav. But what if that plan goes horribly wrong and he falls for his own game?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Tav (Baldur's Gate 3) Rating: Mature ( 18+ ) Word Count: 16k Tags: tiefling party reimagined, act 1/2 spoilers, non-sexual intimacy, astarion's pov, miscommunications, allusions to astarion's past, selûne worshipper!tav, eventual romance, heavy mentions of death and abuse Note: NSFW content chapters added with asterisk Tag List: Request to join the tag list here!

CHAPTERS

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five (coming soon)

                                        ( Visit the AO3 story. )

A LOVER'S FOLLY

"THEY DIE FOR LOVE —YOU KILL FOR IT."

-

PAIRINGS: Astarion & Female Reader

TAGS: 18+ sexual content (eventually), idiots in love, mutual pining, friends to lovers, contains Baldur’s Gate 3 spoilers!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, the Astarion/BG3 brain rot got too much so I had to write a fic about it. Hope you enjoy! :)

MASTERLIST

-

PLAYLISTS:

magnificent bastard!

a lover's folly

-

CHAPTERS:

bleed you dry

the rogue tax

if thoughts could tease

fear of losing it

painful vulnerabilities

i care for you

where's your patience?*

i'm starving, darling

in unfair hands we're dealt

a foolish lover's offering

guard dog

go slow

deliverance, deliver me

i'll crawl home to her

my love is mine, all mine

*chapter 16 coming soon!

1 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Sometimes, you wonder if letting him ascend would mean he would still be here, by your side, rather than lurking the shadows of Baldur's Gate.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. 1, TBA

a/n. very excited about this!!!! I have a lot of ideas on what to do w this plot!!! ALSO there is some material (pressuring??) in this specific chapter that may be a bit uncomfortable for some readers it's very brief, but it is there so please take care of yourself!

As dark spots blur your vision, you realize you can no longer breathe.

His hands–the slender pale fingers you’ve grown to love more than your own–wrap desperately around your throat, digging crescent-shaped indents into your skin. You’d always thought that if he were ever to realize you weren’t as precious to him as he believed you to be, your neck would be the one part of yourself he’d continued to cherish. The softness in which he brushed his fangs against the most vulnerable areas of your throat had led you to believe so.

But as you stare up at him with wide eyes meeting a murderous glare, you understand that you are wrong.

His crimson eyes gleam with an emotion you’ve seen plenty on his pretty face, but never toward a friend. Never to you. You’re going to die, you think. And it wouldn’t have seemed so bad to die at his hands if it were not for the hatred reaching his eyes.

You’re not sure who–maybe Karlach or Wyll–but someone tears him away from you. Your chest dares to tighten from the loss of contact, yet you desperately grasp at the air, hands flying to the tender flesh of your neck while Shadowheart rushes to your side in an instant with her eyes narrowed dangerously at the very man who’d made the dark blemishes.

They’re yelling. Everyone is. At you, out of panic, or at Astarion, you’re not sure, but you just stare at the vampire spawn who’s now unwillingly locked into a life cast into the shadows of the city. He doesn’t look at anyone else, either.

He says something and a few more muffled voices spit back before he throws the dagger you’d given him to the ground, turning to leave. Your hearing clears just in time to hear his parting words.

“I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

A pair of hands shake you awake, and you quickly remember the poor consequences to your back of falling asleep on the empty, narrow street beside the Elfsong tavern. You look up wearily, eyes in a daze as Shadowheart sighs irritably, brows furrowed in a way that tells you to ready yourself for a scolding. “Honestly, at this point, I’m just surprised you haven’t gotten robbed during the night yet.”

You force yourself onto your feet, leaning against the walls as you rub at the crust forming under your eyes. “I have nothing of value anyway. They’re better off stealing from some other poor bard who actually bothers to write songs.”

She raises a brow at this, scanning over your appearance. “Where is your lyre?”

“Sold it,” you shrug, dusting off the muck garnered at the sides of your pants. “Wasn’t much use to me anymore. Better off adding to the funds to rebuild the city, don’t you think?”

Shadowheart frowns, and it makes you look away shamefully. Thankfully, she quickly shakes her head and then paces past you. “Speaking of which, are you in any condition to help today? Gale’s promptly exhausted trying to cast mage hand at least a dozen times yesterday to rebuild the Blushing Mermaid. That foolish wizard nearly passed out by noon.”

“‘Course,” you offer a pathetic smile. “We’re nearly finished with the Baldur’s Mouth. I’ll catch up with you once I check on everyone there.”

“Very well,” she says. She purses her lips after a slight pause. “You should stop falling asleep on the street. Especially since there’s been quite a few murders recently around the city,” she checks to see if you haven’t dazed off, “I expect you to come home tonight–We’re making stew.”

“I will. Don’t think my back can stand much more of this anyway.”

Her shoulders relax the slightest bit, and she finally manages to catch your darting eyes. “Is it the nightmares again? They’re getting worse, aren’t they?”

Your throat goes dry, and you can feel your knees grasping at its remaining strength as you search your mind for a way to respond. You’re tempted to lie through your gritted teeth, knowing she’s fully aware regardless of what pathetic answer you offer her, but you opt to seal your mouth shut, shrugging.

The flash of disappointment in her eyes is enough to make you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. With a curt note, she turns to walk away, glancing back for one last time. “Don’t give him the privilege of occupying a part of your mind for so long. He doesn’t deserve even the dirty filth you have all over yourself.”

For the first time after he nearly killed you and you defeated the Elder Brain four months ago, you think she might be right about him.

_____________________

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Though after the pitiful look your companions gave you when you arrived back at camp and the aching truth in Shadowheart’s words, you find yourself feeling bolder than the last time you dared to call Lae’zel’s cooking inedible (which it was, quite frankly). 

He’s handsome. A reasonably tall elf with pale blue eyes glinting with attraction as he stares at you across the tavern. Sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and long hair brushed back and away from his face. You only notice everything else after the silvery shade of his hair–not entirely white, but fairly close, or as close as you could get to it while still being blond. You were sure he was approaching you for your title–the famed hero of Baldur’s Gate–rather than for pure physical attraction, but you weren’t in any position to nitpick at the moment.

You just wanted to feel skin other than the unsettling feeling of your own.

“Seems to have taken a liking to you,” Shadowheart sips at her drink.

Lae’zel glances at you. “He’s tolerable to the eye. Not quite attractive by githyanki standards, but tolerable.”

You stifle a smile at their attempts to urge you forward and put down your drink. “You sure you two won’t be lonely without me?...Or kill each other.”

“You can leave them to me,” Gale smiles, pacing toward your table with his drink. “I’m sure a Hold cast or two would settle them down.”

Lae’zel snatches the cup from his hand. “You act as if you aren’t fresh out of cast slots, wizard.”

Shadowheart shakes her head, nudging you forward. “Go. We’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be long. Certainly won’t be overnight,” you assure her. “I can’t miss the stew, anyway.”

She smiles, and Lae’zel scoffs in the other direction. “Hurry, he looks almost demented waiting for your graces.”

You snort and offer a clumsy glance to the elf across the tavern before striding out the door. 

Behind the tavern, he’s quick to press a desperate kiss to your lips, lacking the usual tenderness you experienced with Astarion. Or had it been tender at all? Even now, you’re unsure what parts of him had been to manipulate you and what parts of him had been his raw feelings. At the time, you’d embraced either with open arms–you’d embraced him. 

The elf bites at your lip, which snaps you back into the waking world. And while you curse yourself for comparing the moment to him, you find that it’s impossible as you observe that this elf is slightly shorter than he’d been. And instead of his hands wandering to your hip or waist, they graze your behind, pushing you into him in a way that feels nearly suffocating. 

And most glaringly, his lips are warm. Not the cold, yet soft lips of an undead being.

You’re grateful that he keeps his eyes closed because you can simply stare at his pale hair, longing for something you vowed to forget.

It doesn’t feel right. Not at all, and you hate yourself for it.

You shove him away, face falling as you realize you want to wipe his touch away from your mouth like it’s filth, and you do. Understandably, he appears puzzled, brows furrowing as you push yourself away from the wall, shaking your head. “Sorry, I don’t think I can do this.”

But as you try to walk away, his fingers close around your wrist like a death grip, sending shivers up your spine as you find that you hate the feeling of his skin. You hate the feel of your own skin, too. Why, you’re not sure, but he leans close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheeks and yank you out of your daze. “What’s gotten into you? I didn’t do jack shit.”

“I just can’t do this,” you hiss, tugging at your hand. You could just knock him out, but the hero of Baldur’s Gate punching people as they pleased wouldn’t look too good on your end. “Let go.”

“Well, you have to give me at least an explanation,” he snaps, grip tightening. It hurts. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been sending me looks all night.”

His words seem to snap the remaining patience inside you because you elbow his stomach, shoving him backward onto his ass before pressing your dagger that seemed to appear from thin air into his neck. You haven’t had to use the knife in a while, considering how your biggest recent foe was the stinginess of patrons when it came time to pay their tabs at the tavern. Though it belongs to you, it feels foreign in your hands because, for a time, it had a different owner.

One who used this very blade against you. The same one who taught you how to elbow someone hard enough to make them reel.

“P-Please, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You’d forgotten he was there. “Just let me go, please; I won’t bother you again.”

You drop your head, sighing loudly as you sheathe your dagger once more. You think you must really be losing your mind—threatening to slice open a civilian’s throat despite the significant power imbalance between the two of you. You’re sure the greatest threat he’s faced in his life is from petty theft or something along those lines while you—well, you’re you. It’d be equivalent to a full grown owlbear attacking a goblin with a half broken club.

So, as much as you want to make him bleed just a bit, you opt to step away. “Do that again to anyone—not just me, and I won’t be so forgiving next time. Understand?”

The tremble in his irises tells you enough. You sigh again, turning to leave.

You curse your luck. Of course you would have to attract the foulest person in the tavern on a night where nothing seemed to be going correctly. Or rather, the past four months that haven’t been going as you anticipated.

Getting rid of the tadpole meant you should’ve been free from the chains of someone else—and it had, but at the cost of losing something else. And that ‘something else’ was one you weren’t sure you were ever ready to sacrifice. It should have made you happy to see the Elder Brain fall, and to rid of the squirming feeling in your skull, but all you could remember was the churning in your stomach as you realized the last string tying you to him had been snapped.

You’d gone to every tavern, every bar, playing a tune at each one until the skin at your fingers split open, because he knew you’d be there. He’d known what your lyre meant to you. Yet among the sea of faces, not once had you seen the one you wanted.

As you walk around the corner, you wrap your arms around yourself. Though Summer’s quickly approaching, there’s still a chill in the air this late at night. You pull out your dagger once more, lifting it to the sky to examine its hilt against the moonlight, which glistens with what was once your pride and love. Now, it just looks dull, and faint.

You back feels too light, now lacking the lyre. You suppose you’ll have less of a hassle moving around now, since you don’t have to worry about the strings snapping, but it doesn’t soothe you. Still, you’d sold it for good reason.

An instrument is nothing without a player who can use it, after all.

So you turn your attention back to your dagger, the last crumb he’s left for you to hold dearly to your heart, and then to the trash can perched beside a nearby wall.

You’ve tried a million times before, and you’re not sure what makes you think you’ll be successive this time, but you swallow hard in determination to rid of the thing entirely. But just as you’re about to take your first step toward it, you hear a loud, halting screech muffled instantly.

It’s from the direction you came from.

You’re breaking into a silent sprint, the weapon in your hand ready to be used. You stop before you turn the corner, readying yourself for the worst. A murder? There’ve been more than a few occurring around the city, but you’d thought the Flaming Fist were investigating that already…You can hear your blood rushing in your head, but a crunch of bone and the silence that follows afterward is all you can focus on as your grip on the hilt tightens desperately. 

Cautiously, you peer at the moonlit alleyway, poised to attack.

You nearly drop the blade.

Draped in the moonlight with his face hidden by a hood, he nearly glows, though you’re not sure if it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. His fangs are buried viciously into the man’s neck, whose legs and arms lie limply at his side while the life in his eyes slips away as if it were never there. And while you don’t dare to breathe, you stare with wide eyes, drinking in his appearance as if it would be the last. A part of you thinks it may be.

But as quickly as your heart begins to race, it calms. A drop of your stomach tells you it’s not him. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or how you know, but you can just tell.

The man finally drops the now lifeless body onto the ground with a thud, wiping at his mouth with the back of his dark sleeve. He turns, and you finally see one of Astarion’s brothers–the one who’d been at the flophouse, confirming your suspicions. Regardless, your guard stays up. “I thought you guys left for the Underdark.”

He snaps his head toward your voice, eyes wide. He looks a lot better than you’d last truly seen his face after Astarion nearly burned him against the sunlight in the flophouse. What had been his name, you try to recall? Pallet? Peter? It doesn’t matter, much. “You were at the flophouse.”

He cringes at the memory but nods. “Petras. You’re the one who stopped Astarion from killing us all, aren’t you?”

Your throat goes dry at that. You’d never thought about it in such a–vulgar way, and it makes your stomach churn, but he doesn’t give you time to respond. 

“Dalyria, Leon, and I have decided to stay for the sake of the spawn hiding in the city sewers,” he explains curtly. “My other siblings are in the Underdark with most of the spawn, as you expect them to be.”

You stare at the corpse on the ground, expression twitching as you meet his eyes. “Why’d you kill him?”

He licks his lips, stained with the man’s blood.  “I didn’t. Someone did the work for me. I just didn’t let his precious blood go to waste.” He pauses. “I’d put a few rats on betting that it’s Astarion.”

Your eyes go wide, your armed hands dropping to your side. “Astarion? He was here?”

You’d been here mere moments ago. Had he seen you? Was he watching you?

“Maybe. Judging from how quickly he ran away from the scene when he saw me, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Shoving your dagger into its rightful place on your back, you immediately turn to search for your former companion. He couldn’t have gone far. You’d been talking to the dead man mere minutes ago, and if the death occurred between now and then, he couldn’t have possibly gone more than a few buildings away–

“I never got to thank you.”

Petras looks at you anxiously, and as much as you’d like to cut the conversation short, the way he shifts nervously can’t help but keep you in place.

“There’s no need,” you reply, stopping to shake your head. You hadn’t done it for him or any of his siblings, for that matter, anyway. Not even for Astarion. Your choice to stop had been for yourself, to keep him by your side. Your brows furrow at the selfishness draping your thoughts—that you were willing to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls for the sake of protecting the one you loved. It was a lapse of judgement. Naivety. “It’s just how things turned out.”

He tilts his head but doesn’t push it any further. “Have you seen him recently? Astarion?”

“...No. He left after we—I killed Cazador.”

His eyes flicker with disappointment, and you wonder if he’s forgiven Astarion for what he tried to do in Cazador’s dungeon. “He’s always been good at hiding. Seems some things never change.”

You nod numbly. “I’ll let you know if I do see him.”

Though you doubt you ever will. Not after how things ended. But if there’s a slight chance, even the smallest of hopes, that you can bring closure to the sleepless nights you spend on the streets, staring up at a sky that no longer brightens the way it used to, you’re willing to wait until you’re shriveled up and old, while he remains beautiful.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

The painful clench in your heart doesn’t go ignored. “Have you spoken with him?”

“Once,” he says. “But it seems he doesn’t want to speak with us anymore either. You see, our conversation didn’t quite end in a happy family reunion. We did manage to ask him a few things—like asking if he was to be staying with you.”

“And?” You’re afraid to hear the answer, but your voice is far too hopeful.

Petras gives you a look of pity, and you understand.

You understand that no matter how long you wait or how long you search for him, Astarion will not be seen when he does not want to be.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

For the rest of the night, you weep. You weep in the comforts of nobody but your own arms and nobody to hear you but the moon above.

_____________________

Baldur’s Gate is by no means a city that sleeps. The past four months have been a restless cycle of rebuilding the city, and while you’ve done your part, no matter how much you do, it never seems enough.

“Oh, welcome, dear. Your friends have been a wonderful help for my house as of late,” the lady of the Highberry’s Home, Cora Highberry, ushers you into her house, still missing a roof and half the windows but appearing in better shape than most other structures in the city. She offers you a wine glass. “Do you have a preference?”

“Anything’s fine,” you smile, but just as you reach for the glass, it’s snatched away by a familiar wizard’s hand.

Gale extends Cora a gentle nod and that charming grin of his as he hands her back the wine. “While we greatly appreciate your hospitality, I’m afraid my friend here is in no condition to drink as of now.”

The playful roll of your eyes makes Cora laugh. “Ah, of course. But do know I’m so grateful for all your help. I didn’t imagine we would be building the home back for the orphans so quickly!”

“It’s the least we could do,” Gale beams. “Now then, my dear friend and I will continue working on the second floor, so just give us a holler if you need us.”

He whisks you away toward the stairs before you can wave goodbye to the woman. While you’d expect him to initiate conversation, he doesn’t say anything until you arrive upstairs, where you’re mostly alone beside the few other volunteers in the other room. You tilt your head when he finally paces past you toward one of the broken windows. “Gale Dekarios keeping his mouth shut for more than a few moments? The city truly must be falling apart.”

He cracks a smile at this, dusting off a few glass shards from the windowsill. “I’m glad to see you still have your sense of charm.”

“When have I ever lacked my charm?”

He doesn’t lift his head, pulling out his spellbook and flipping through a few pages while you survey the state of the room. “You didn’t return last night.”

You tense.

“It would be wise to be grateful Karlach’s still in Avernus with Wyll, because I’m certain she would’ve given you quite the scolding for daring to miss my world-famous Wizard’s Stew,” he says lightly, his tone morphing into something more serious when he shifts his gaze in your direction. “We’re worried about you, you know. Especially Shadowheart, even if that woman doesn’t know what gentle means in every possible level of hell.”

He’s silently asking you for an explanation, and your heart breaks at how gently he prods at your walls, giving you an opportunity to slip away again. But with how his eyes plead at you, you can’t imagine that would be possible anyway. Slowly, you perch yourself on the windowsill, looking down at the bustling crowd working together to rebuild the Highberry’s porch. They’re laughing—some face red with wine, while others scold them for it. You see a bard playing a tune you haven’t heard before, but it’s effective in lifting the mood regardless, and you finally glance at Gale.

“I met one of Astarion’s brothers yesterday.”

His face is grim. “I didn’t realize they were still in the city.”

“Me neither,” you sigh. “Some of them stayed. From what I could tell, they're mostly in the sewers, but they’re definitely here.”

“Did he seem…hostile?”

“No. He just asked me about Astarion.” You leave out the part about the dead body.

Gale’s brows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything, only silently urging you to continue. And you do.

“He doesn’t want to see me. Not ever, I think.”

There it is. The same gaze everyone seems to give you lately: pity.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you hop off the windowsill, pacing across to the other side of the room. “If he doesn’t want to see me, I won’t. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t. I’m tired of waiting for him, Gale. I’m tired of waiting for someone who won’t ever come.”

And despite the puffiness of your eyes last night, and despite the way your eyes gloss over even now, you offer him a crooked smile. “I want to focus on the city now, for better or worse.”

Gale appears the happiest he’s been since returning a few months ago with the news that Mystra has healed him of his orb. “You thought well, dear friend. You should know how glad we are to have you back. We could certainly use more hands in the kitchen, as well, considering—well, you know how the rest of our companions are with cooking.”

Just as you open your mouth, there’s an ear-shattering scream from downstairs. The two of you meet wide eyes briefly before hurrying downstairs.

Only a few feet from the patio of the Highberry home, there’s a crowd gathering with hushed whispers and the weeping of a woman. And when you manage to push through the mountain of people, you finally see the corpse.

Cora Highberry sobs over what remains of her bloody husband, who, without a doubt, has the markings of two fangs punctured through his throat.

Just Astarion's reactions to the question "What do you want?"

Act I

Act II

Act III

I'll go cry now goodbye

I love his hair

Intimacy is not just about sex. It's having heart-to-hearts, staying up all night talking, sharing childhood memories, thoughts, fears, dreams & hopes for the future. It's uncontrollable laughter, direct eye contact and feeling each other without touching - it's exchanging energy