Hello there! I am Bun / Ellie :3 23 years old~ I mostly obsess over YouTube, Anime n games. NSFW >and< Dark content will be posted n reblogged here! 🥺💕🖤 minors DNI~
[id: a yellow userbox with an orange border and orange text that reads “this useris meowing at u.” on the left is an image of an orange tabby cat doodle. /end id]
i have diluc brainworms where he likes to finger you - it's like a drug for him to see your expressions and hear the wet squelches of your hole and feel the twitching of your muscles. his fingers are long and THICK and fuckkkkk i imagine him pumping them inside you, rubbing on the sensitive walls and that spongy spot that makes you see white. him being drunk on the way you squirm and writhe and drool from the overwhelming pleasure. bonus if he uses his pyro vision to heat up his fingers that then toy with your nipples and clit,,, hhghhg sorry i'm so not normal about this man
please i do not mind at all have a little brainrot because ahagahagah diluc
not sfw/minors dni. cw: reader is afab, no gendered terms used. fingering.
Diluc's fingers always hover, at first; as if he cannot quite believe that he's going to be able to touch you. They brush your bare skin, fingertips warm, his breath catching in his throat as you sigh and rest your head against his breastbone, as you urge softly in a voice so needy that it makes Diluc want to pleasure you forever and ever so he can make sure you are never wanting;
"Please touch me more," it gives him some confidence. One hand fastens about your thigh, pulls your legs further apart so that you're laid out bare beneath him completely, spread out like a blooming flower. He breathes out heavy and hot, steaming in the air, as he looks down at you - as his hand drags up that soft skin, before he sinks one finger inside of you long and thick and still not enough. You whine, canting your hips upwards, begging him to fuck you with them instead of just leaving you wanting - but his eyes have gone hazy.
"You feel so good," he murmurs, as if he can't believe it himself. "So hot. So wet. So tight--" He pumps the finger in, out, in - your lashes fluttering at the sensation, little noises escaping your parted lips. You try and make yourself say his name, a prayer for him to treat you rougher; but as you manage a syllable, suddenly two thick fingers are inside of you and he's crooking them, brushing the textured spot inside of your walls that makes you whine aloud.
Diluc doesn't drink; but he seems intoxicated nonetheless by your reactions, the way your body trembles beneath him, the whimpers of his name and the feel of you squeezing him like a vice. He slants his mouth down hungrily over yours, lit by new fire - and, desperately, you kiss him wet and messy back. His two fingers continue to abuse the new spot inside of you as he trails hungry kisses over your cheeks, your jawline, your neck and your collarbone. In between the wet kisses, he murmurs;
"So good," he says, a man in awe. "So right. So pretty. So beautiful. So perfect--"
Rough thumb pressing against your clit even as the two fingers inside of you curl and brush and thrust. You feel a heat not merely from your own sweat-slicked skin, the lightest touch of Pyro at the pad of said thumb, and without his mouth to bury the sound into you wail aloud into the ceiling. The maids will hear; the butler, any other house staff who may be milling around waiting to attend to their master's orders - but with Diluc's fingers inside of you, with you squirming and shaking and all over hot with pleasure and need, you cannot bring yourself to care.
And, as Diluc urges you further and further, as he stares down at you like a man witnessing the divine descending from Celestia itself - you don't think he does either.
You ignore Levi's irritated comment as you fiddle with the buckles on your shoes, too tiny to clasp easily and at a part of your ankle that requires your legs to be both tilted and bent to access them. A lethal combination in opposition to your dexterity.
"Are you sewing that dress by hand or what?"
His voice is nearer to your bedroom door now, a little bit more difficult to tune out with only the thin wood between you.
"No, my little mice helpers are doing that for me while I sing to them," you call back, but your words are light and flippant where his were heavy with the weight of his impatience.
"It wouldn't surprise me if you did have your own army of vermin with the amount of junk you've got in this apartment." You can't see Levi's face but you know he's looking around your living room with his nose crinkled in the particular way he does when he finds something distasteful.
You scoff as you finally succeed in doing up your second buckle. You lift your head so you can snap your rebuttal directly towards your closed door.
"Sorry we can't all live like minimalist monks!"
Levi snorts in reply. "I'm hardly a minimalist, I just don't accumulate needless things."
"You only own one bowl, one plate, and one mug."
You've known Levi since college, and you're fairly certain he has the same amount of possessions filling the entirety of his one-bedroom apartment that he did in his one-room dorm a decade prior. Probably the same ones, too.
"That way no one ever tries to come over for meals, it's clever."
"It's spartan."
There's a light thump on the other side of your door, and you wonder what it may have been.
"Didn't you ever read those Marie Kondo books?" Levi's voice is impossibly close now, like he's got his forehead pressed to your door. The thump makes a little more sense.
You laugh a bit to yourself as you imagine the way he's slumped against the expanse of wood, long-dressed in his suit and ready to go where you've taken your time getting ready. It's not your fault Levi showed up thirty minutes earlier than he said he would to pick you up for the company party your shared workplace was throwing that evening--though you should have expected it, given he's never been tardy to anything in the entire time the two of you had been friends.
"Can't say I did," you reply as you cross your bedroom, leaning over in your mirror to get one last close-up look at your face. You run your thumbnail against the edge of your bottom lip where your gloss was slightly ill-applied. "Why do you ask?"
"S'all that," Levi sighs, "'spark joy' bullshit. Don't keep things in your space if they don't make you happy or whatever."
You smile at your own reflection, eyes flickering to the image of your bedroom door you can see in the glass.
"And what if all my 'junk' makes me happy?"
There's some shuffling, and a moment later Levi mutters: "How can an issue of a magazine from 2010 make you happy?"
You suspect he's plucked an old copy of some fashion magazine off the stack resting on the bookshelf beside your door. You've actually been meaning to throw those away for a while, but you don't tell him that.
"How can you manage to not find happiness in anything?"
"That's not true," he argues.
"Oh yeah?" you counter, adjusting the way your necklace is resting against your collarbones. "Name something that you keep around just because it makes you happy."
"My kettle."
"Nope," you answer immediately, grabbing your purse off the end of your bed and heading towards the door, "that serves a practical, utilitarian purpose. I mean something useless that you just like. Just something you think is pretty."
You grasp the handle and pull it open, and you take Levi by surprise--he barely catches himself with a hand on either side of the door frame to keep from crashing into you.
There's a little pink mark at the centre of his brow where he'd been leaning against the door, and his eyes are wide.
"You ready to go?" you ask him, tucking your bag under your arm.
He's frozen, his expression still a little taken aback.
"What?" you ask him, suddenly self conscious. Your hands tug at the material of your dress nervously. "Should I change?"
"No," he says, soft but sure. "You look... fine."
Your face pinches.
"Fine?"
"Nice," Levi corrects himself, finally looking away. He fiddles with the stack of magazines he'd been complaining about moments prior. "You look nice."
"Wow, Ackerman, with compliments like that it's shocking that you have to take your best friend as your date to the company party and not one of the countless women I'm sure are knocking at your door."
Levi narrows his eyes, tossing you a withering look.
"You're the one who said we should go together."
"That's because I want to blackout at the open bar, and you're the only person I know who turns down a drink on the corporate dollar," you say with a bright smile.
Levi tuts in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes wandering away from you again. "Charming."
A beat of silence passes.
Levi sucks in a little breath.
"You."
"Pardon?" you ask, and not even because he said it so quietly you barely understood him, but because it doesn't quite make sense.
"Something I keep around just because I like it," Levi says, his eyes fixed so intently on the outdated magazine stack that you're surprised the pages don't burst into flames. "Just because it makes me happy..."
Your heart stutters in its rhythm, a sudden weakness in your knees you can't chalk up to the height of your heels as easily as you may have liked to.
"...Just because it's pretty."
You swallow thickly.
His eyes meet yours.
The time and space between the two of you is thick and sweet like honey, and you wade through it slowly as you fight to find your words. You swear you can almost taste it as your tongue peeks out to moisten your already glossy lips.
"We should probably go," you say quietly, reaching out to adjust the lapel of Levi's suit. If your touch lingers a moment longer than it ought to, if your fingers brush against him in a way that friends' shouldn't, neither of you says anything about it.
Levi nods and clears his throat, taking the slightest step away from you towards your front door. "We gotta get you back before midnight after all, Cinderella."
You blink, a little confused, a little dazed, a little bit of a head rush still clouding your thoughts.
"The mice, remember?" Levi offers when he sees your curious look, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Oh," you laugh, letting your head hang as you nod slightly. "Right."
The two of you make your way down to the parking lot outside of your apartment building towards Levi's car, and you watch as the lights flash when he unlocks it.
"I've got two mugs, by the way," Levi says as he pulls the driver's side door open, and you pause with your hand on the handle of your own. He looks at you over the roof of his car, his eyes suddenly firmer than you'd seen them all night. More insistent. More sure.
You tilt your head, confused.
He ducks down to slide into his seat, but not before calling back to you one last time:
[id: a light pink userbox with a pastel pink border, and pastel pink text that reads “this user is always sleepy” on the left is an image of pink clouds. /end id]
[id: a light purple userbox with a pastel purple border, and pastel purple text that reads “ this user loves their online friends very much and wishes they could give them a big hug.” the s in friends is in parenthesis. on the left is an image of a purple heart. /end id]
warnings: 18+ minors dni, fingering, nipple sucking, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex, size kink, big cock toji, fem reader, sub reader, toji is kinda soft in this but still a tease, cervix fucking (1 mention) clit smacking (1 mention) dacryphilia,,,,let me know if i missed anything. 3.7k words
sum: Be like the love that discovered the sin, that freed the first man, would do so again, and lover be good to me.
turnnoffyourmind
pixelskylines
