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allfearstofallto · 2 months

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hii! can i make a request?

I've been thinking about angsty things a bit. say if, reader got pregnant, would she hate it? how would scara/childe react? in my opinion, id like to think that scara thinks of this as a way to tie her down to him more, plus its canon he likes kids!! and as for childe i think he'd be very very happy since he has soooo many siblings, (maybe he wants a lot of kids too??)

and..what if reader miscarried? i have this thought of where scara would still be cold to her but give her breaks and more space than usual, but what if reader completely locks herself in and then when he confronts her about it they get into a huge argument, how would scara tackle that, would he resort to abusive tactics and would it increase readers hatred & distance more?

just a brainrot, you dont have to write about it if you're not comfy^_^

This took me so so so long!! I'm so sorry if you were waiting for it!!

I don't typically write for things like pregnancy because it makes me uncomfortable, but I'd be lying if I said I do not absolutely fucking adore angst and hopelessness.

Parasite

Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: 18+ MDNI, Dark Content, Forced marriage, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Mentions of Dub/Non-Con

A week late turned into two. Two turned into a month. A month turned into three. And three turned into unusual cravings for foods that didn't go together. Sickness and vomiting clouded the hours of your mornings. Dread filled your body the second you realized what this was. Stress makes your cycles late, you told yourself, stress makes your entire body change, and this was a stressful situation, but stress wasn't causing this, was it?

Scaramouche could tell the changes in you immediately. As someone who constantly kept tabs on your life, it was only fair to assume that he'd noticed your slight fluctuation in weight and lack of asking for your monthly cloths. When you were called into his office, you felt a hot flash all over your body, you assumed it was fear, but it could've also been nausea.

His office was a place filled with dread. The air in the room was too thick and worst of all, he was there. The room made you feel small, the only good thing about it was that he was usually too focused on his mile high stacks of paperwork. Except today. Today his razor sharp gaze was focused on your trembling form as you bowed to him, his eyes following down, then back up.

“Answer me honestly,” he began, hands planted on the wood in front of him, “Are you with child?”

If you could throw up again, you would. Of course, you knew all this time, but you never wanted to say it. You hoped, just hoped and prayed that maybe if you never acknowledged it, it would all go away. It would all be a bad dream. But it was true. There was something disgusting living inside you. And it was his.

“I believe so, my lord,” the words couldn't even completely fall from your lips before you were a blubbering, sobbing mess of anguish and fear. Despite the fact that you were completely breaking down before him, he had a small smile on his face, like he was proud of what he'd done to you.

“That's good,” he said calmly, wiping away your tears and planting a forced kiss upon your face. His touch felt cold as ice, but his hands against you made you want to melt your skin away.

The reaction to the “good news” was immediate, whether that was good or bad was up in the air, but everything changed. The tight obi of all the kimono you owned would put too much pressure on your budding stomach, new one's were ordered to be ready as you grew more in size. Your diet was changed completely, less of the Inazuma raw delicacies and more lean meat and vegetables. Daily classes of calligraphy and tea ceremonies were switched to resting with your feet up or light stretching, everything to keep you happy and healthy during your pregnancy.

The biggest change was Scaramouche himself. A man filled with so much hatred and disgust, was suddenly being kinder. Or trying to at least. You watch him open his mouth to make a comment, only to shut it again in favor of saying something still rude, but less insulting.

The Scaramouche that believed that he could take your body whenever he pleased was long gone, even though that was what got you in this predicament in the first place. He'd taken to leaving you in the middle of the night and going to the bathroom to sate his urges. He'd come back with cold damp hands and lay next to you, a protective hand over your stomach as he kissed your cheek and told you how much he loved you.

The day you saw blood between your legs and felt an aching pain in your stomach was a joyous one indeed. A part of you wanted to scream out in glee, but you didn't want to wake your already on edge husband. The blood that coated your fingers could only mean one thing. One good thing. It was gone. You were free of it. Almost immediately, the dark air that seemed to linger over your body vanished and you let out a sigh of relief.

Scaramouche was informed shortly before breakfast that same morning. You relayed the information to a maid, who then told him, whispering the words in his ear so quietly, it sounded like she was speaking gibberish. His face, his expression, changed to one shock, then horror, then pain. You didn't even know he could make such a face, yet there he was with tears in his eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” There was that tone again. The one you were used to. The anger and distaste for you in his voice. He slammed his fist down on the desk, turning his head away from you as his voice became high and breathy, so desperate for answers, “What did I do wrong?”

You stood in his office awkwardly, even this display from a person you hated, this display of agony was hurting you as well. You thought it would be funny. Seeing the man who pulled you from your home and forced you into marriage in pain was supposed to make you happy, but you felt your own chest clenching, felt your hands tremble.

“I-i suppose…I was stressed, my lord,” you muttered, his already labored breaths hitching at those words. The few months you were carrying that thing inside your body, was when he asked for less from you. He expected you to laze around all day and relax. For your body to fall into a daze like trance of naps and delicious food. He wanted happiness for both you and his child that you carried, yet you were still the most stressed you'd ever been in your entire life, knowing that he had something inside you. Something that would continue to fester and grow, until it eventually ate you alive.

He sat back in his office chair dejected, hurt, and empty. Scaramouche's normally sharp, glaring eyes were wide as he stared at the ceiling, body limp as he bit his lip, “Leave me,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. Had it not been for the quietness of the room, you wouldn't have heard him.

Leave him you did, closing the door as silently as possible and not lingering behind. You felt yourself finally stop tensing, telling yourself that all your woes were over, for now. The thing was gone. You were happy. For once, even if unintentionally, you'd won over your captor.

#mai<3 answers #genshin #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #tw pregnancy #mdni

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caraphernellie · 4 months

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build god, then we’ll talk // e.w.

a/n: preacher!ellie part 2!! yay! once again heavily mcr inspired lol, also mm a fever you can't sweat out aka the best p!atd album. i got super freaked out because this accidentally posted a few days ago and i dont even know why what the actual fuck. im super nervous about this one. this one is significantly worse than the first and if i wasnt already before writing this i certainly now am never seeing the pearly gates. AGAIN IF THIS ISNT UR THING DONT READ

read part one here!!

word count: 2.6k

warnings: preacher!ellie , christian!reader . some random bitch named paisleigh i tried to go for names karen would pick. fem!reader , dom!ellie , sub!reader . rough sex . church sex they are in the church please dont be mad at me LMFAOOOO . oral (e!receiving) , inappropriate use of holy water?? lol. established relationship (secret lovers). internalised homophobia + religious trauma , mean!ellie , she’s mostly very nice , just punishing reader and suuuuper clouded by internalised homophobia. degrading/slight humiliation kink , corruption kink if you squint , dacryphilia , spanking (r!receiving) , fingering (r!receiving) , hair pulling. dialogue heavy tbh ,, . use of the word whore. use of pet names : angel , sweet girl , good girl.

towards the back of the church, you sit next to ellie during the evening service. her warm palm covers most of your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin. it’s secret moments shared in plain sight that get you going, that make your heart flutter and knees weak.

it’s moments like these that increase the doubts you are having about your faith – not like ellie knows, and absolutely not like you would ever tell her. she is your lover, and you have trusted her with so much, but she could never understand this. she’s dedicated her life to the church like it’s her purpose, and you’re haunted by it.

so even as you feel yourself losing sight of the need for salvation, and as you find that you can only feel happy and free once you let go of religion, you will sit through every mass. you will pray with her. you will continue to live this hidden, shameful life, living with the knowledge that nobody else would approve of the way you love ellie.

and it gets difficult, hiding it. you’ve lived in fear, hiding the secret of your sexuality for so long, but ellie’s warmth and her gentle touch is something you wish you could show off.

the service ends, and ellie stays back as she often does to talk to anyone who needs her guidance. you sit and wait for her in the pews, growing impatient, and growing guilty as your thoughts run wild and you realise what an apostate you have become.

you fidget in your seat, antsy and itching for ellie to come back to you, so you’ll be alone once more, and free to feel her touch and her kiss that you so desperately crave. but she’s having a chat with her neighbour paisleigh, of course, who is asking ellie with some not-so-subtle judgement when she’s going to settle down to become a typical housewife. you scoff at such an idea.

ellie? settling down with a man? that’s laughable.

but watching her talk with paisleigh, the way her chapped lips move and the moonlight shining through a stained glass window hits her eyes, you need that kiss more than ever.

almost on autopilot, you trail towards ellie, standing beside her with a blank face.

she interrupts paisleigh for a moment, turning to you, there’s always that undeniable look of adoration in her eyes, how she always tries to make time for you, and be attentive towards you, and it curls the corners of your lips upwards.

“you alright?” ellie asks, quirking a brow in your direction, “somethin’ wrong or you’re just bored?”

and you realise you’re actually not sure why you came up to ellie – or, you do know, but it’s not something you could ask right now. so you just grab her hand instead of replying, and ellie’s gaze hardens. in an attempt to appear professional, she squeezes your hand before dropping it.

“is something wrong?”

“uh…”

paisleigh utters something under her breath, something that sounds a little mean, before she speaks up. “i should get going. i will see you tomorrow.”

“for sure,” ellie nods, smiling. “see you.”

and ellie doesn’t even spare you a glance, waiting until paisleigh exits the church. you’re alone, the church is empty, and it’s so silent you could hear a pin drop.

at this point, it’s a matter of who will break the silence, but ellie beats you to it. you know she’s not happy – she’s always bitching the second you come close to even subtly showing love to her when someone else is around.

“jealous or something?” ellie says, crossing her arms. she leans against a pew, crossing her ankles. “couldn’t handle hearin’ about me possibly settling down? or were you just in the mood to get us caught?”

“ellie, it’s not like that, i just–”

“then what was it like?” ellie challenges, raising her eyebrows. she’s got a real mean streak, and it only comes out when she wants to protect you.

“it was- j-just– i just wanted to be close,” you mutter, looking down, a newfound meekness in your tone, “it was just me holding your hand, i–”

“and if someone takes you holding my hand the wrong way, then what? hm? you’re willing to lose everything just to hold my hand? what, you’re that desperate for some attention?”

“i wasn’t thinking, i just–”

you don’t know when ellie got so close to you, but her hand grabs your chin and lifts your face so she can stare into your eyes. there’s not much of anger there. you know what it is, it’s her own internal struggle, that she’s only taking out on you because she saw an opportunity.

“not thinking, huh?” ellie snorts, then caresses your cheek, a far cry from the callous tone she’s giving you. “poor girl, wanted me so bad, is that it?”

your lips are sealed, a doe look in your eyes that makes ellie smirk.

“talk. you wanted me, hm? use your words.”

“i just wanted a kiss,” you say quietly, “or at the very least, j-just a hug.”

“awe,” ellie croons, pulling you close. her heart isn’t calm like usual and you can hear it, the harboured speed she gained in fear of your secret being revealed. she’s warm as ever, her hands on your waistline and chin resting on your shoulder. “well here’s your hug, angel. but you know what i think?”

“...what?”

“you’ve forgotten where the fuck we are.”

ellie pulls away from you, and shoves you in the direction of the altar, causing you to gasp and catch yourself with your arms on the white table.

“we are in a place of worship. in the house of god, sweet girl, do you know what god thinks of people like us?”

you look down at your hands. “we’re… sinners.”

“that’s right,” ellie hums in approval. she ends up behind you, a hand gripping your throat to pull your back against her chest. “we’re sinners. and you went as far as to want me, to be thinking these kinds of thoughts during our service, in which we are to honour him. if you’re that much of a whore, i’ll give you what you want right here, right now.”

you splutter, quick shock taking over completely. “i- wha- here? in church? ellie, y- we can’t, this isn’t priv–”

“nobody’s watching,” ellie murmurs into your ear, leaving a kiss right where your shoulder meets your neck. “nobody except god himself. so why don’t i teach you a little lesson, show god how sorry you are?”

oh.

“i…”

ellie’s hand slides down your neck and to your back, pushing, pushing, until you’re bent over the altar. she tugs at the hem of your dress with one hand, the other trailing up the back of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake like little electric sparks.

“let this punishment be our prayer. our repentance,” ellie suggests, holding your dress up. a finger traces slowly over the outline of your panties, such a feather light touch you almost don’t feel it, until she’s tugging them down and letting them pool on the floor over your mary janes. “remind me, what are we?”

you’re preoccupied, trembling over the altar and mulling over in your mind the way the air brushes against the heat in your cunt.

preoccupied, until there’s a stinging pain spreading over your ass, and a slap echoing through the empty church, followed by your own yelp.

“i said,” ellie speaks through gritted teeth, repeating herself, “what are we?”

“sinners,” you answer, voice wavering. “so sorry, i– ah!”

another spank, right on the other ass cheek this time. ellie chuckles, her large hands kneading over soft skin to soothe the sting of it.

“we are sinners, and we always beg for forgiveness, don’t we, my angel? so how dare you–” the word dare is punctuated by another spank over the middle of your ass. “-think something so sinful in a time where we are supposed to be holy?"

a pathetic mewl whines past your lips and you tremble even more, “i’m sorry, ellie, but the–”

“don’t be apologising to me,” ellie says, chuckling. she cups your cheeks in her hands from behind, tilting your head up. your eyes focus on the large wooden crucifix hanging on the back wall of the cathedral. “apologise to him.”

“oh,” you whisper, the heat of embarrassment bubbling inside your stomach, rising to your face. “yes. of course.”

ellie’s face appears beside you, a soft kiss pressing against your shoulderblade. “i love you,” she whispers, and she loses sight of herself for a moment – forgetting where her values are, forgetting her internal battles for just a moment to show you something tender, a warning, a reminder that she is playing.

and just when you think the harsher treatment is over, she gives you this short warning that almost doesn’t register in your mind. she slaps your cunt, and she laughs at the way you buck your hips away from her hand.

“this is not going to be gentle. you didn't think your punishment was over, did you?” ellie teases, two fingers spreading open the soaking folds, gathering creamy slick over the pads of her digits. she lives for every reaction you have, every shudder and every little gasp. “tell me, sweet girl, what happens if you sin?”

“y-you’re damned,” you reply, trying to focus your gaze over the cross, and your back arches when two of ellie’s fingers slowly slide inside. “damned to hell.”

“yes,” ellie answers, an audible strain in her voice, where she grits her teeth over the feeling of your walls clenching around her long digits. “and is there a way to save yourself?”

“by… oh, el– by looking to god,” you say. your voice is barely above a whisper, but ellie nods anyway, slowly beginning to move her fingers. “and by apologising, a-and seeking forgiveness from the lord, and y-you can be absolved of s– ffuck.”

ellie is hardly listening to your answer at this point. you can’t see her, but if you could, the look on her face would be tantalising enough. lip pulled between her teeth, thick brows burrowed over narrowed eyes as she watches her fingers coat with your wetness.

“you’re right,” ellie whispers, flitting her gaze up to the back of your head again. “so what are you gonna say now, angel? do you want to be an angel? or keep being a whore?”

“i-i’m sorry, lord,” you plead, a moan choking out as ellie speeds up her pace, thrusting in your pussy, squelching, wet sounds echoing in the church and increasing your embarrassment. “please f-forgive me, for disrespecting you, in a t-time meant for w– ellie!”

the shriek comes as ellie’s free hand spanks your ass again, and she growls, “now apologise for both of us. like we always do.”

you nod, panting softly, but there aren’t many words coming to mind at the moment. think, think, we pray every time. this shouldn’t be hard.

ellie’s fingers slide in and out of you, and she smirks when she feels your clench around her again. the pace is so fast you can’t keep up, and her fingers pound so roughly it almost burns. a knot builds in your stomach, tears in your eyes.

pulled out of your daze, ellie rips a cry out of you as she grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head upwards to look at the cross after noticing your head fall. she keeps her grip tight. a hot tear slides down your cheek.

“aw, angel, this shouldn’t be hard,” ellie coos, almost as though she read your mind. “are you sorry?”

“yes, yes,” you whine, hands holding onto the edge of the altar for stability. “please, oh f-fuck, ellie.”

“please? please what, angel?” ellie asks, smirking. “you’re not cumming until you can show god you’re sorry for this.”

“i’m sorry!” you cry, a tear or two dripping onto the white tablecloth on the altar. “please, lord, f-forgive us, we have- are sinning, again, a-and- ahh, mmff,..”

ellie almost rolls her eyes, a large grin on her face that she can’t wipe off for the life of her – you can’t get a full sentence out, and she’s proud.

“please guide us, and p– protect us from future error,” you continue, “thank you for your f-forgiveness.”

“good,” ellie murmurs, easing up some of her relentless pace only to make you more comfortable, “keep cryin’, maybe your tears’ll convince someone to believe you.”

you can’t bother to reply, though ellie’s finally, for once, acknowledged how unapologetic you both are. not sorry, just guilty.

“el– ellie, i’m going to– mm, right, yea, like that please-”

ellie releases her grip on your hair, and hooks a strong arm around you. she laughs as your cunt twitches when her hand begins rubbing at your puffy clit, now with nothing on her mind but the goal of making you cum.

it doesn’t take long after that. a cord in your stomach snaps, unravelling as you shake and tremble and jitter, loud, lewd moans filling the silence of the empty church.

pulling away, leaving your wrecked hole empty, her fingers poke at your lips. as you still come down from such intensity, ellie lets you lean against her while your lips part and take her fingers in, sucking the slick off of them.

“good girl,” ellie whispers, her other hand smoothing your dress down and patting your ass. “you’ll make a perfect angel, so obedient like that.”

you hum around ellie’s fingers, hands lazily grabbing at her wrist, half lidded eyes trained on the veins in her hand.

“i need you to do one more thing for me, can you do that?” ellie asks, taking her fingers out of your mouth. she kisses the corner of your lips, and then grips your shoulders, beginning to push you down. “kneel.”

glassy eyes peering up at ellie, tear stained cheeks and a small pout on your lips, she grunts and reaches for her belt. “ah, fuck...”

she’s ruined you.

unzipping her pants, ellie takes down both the slacks and her grey boxers at once. there’s no time to process anything before she’s got a hand on the back of your head, gently prompting you to move closer, enticing you towards her messy cunt.

ellie looks down at you, huffing a breath out of her nose when she meets your eyes. “c’mere, angel, let me mess up that pretty face even more. just– aw, shit, uh-huh.”

your nose tickled by auburn bush, you press your face against her and flick your tongue out, lapping over her clit. the memory of your dwindling faith is hazy in this moment, nothing but ellie’s moans and taste filling your senses.

“that’s it,” ellie praises, leaning back against the altar to keep herself from growing weak. her hand begins to move your head, and you almost can’t keep up with it. “just so– mmm, ffuck yeah, shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

hands folded in your lap, there isn’t much you can do but take this, especially when ellie begins rutting her hips towards you. lips and tongue melting between thrusts and the hand moving you up and down, meeting ellie’s pulsing cunt, tasting her essence.

“sh– fuck,” ellie grunts, staring down at you, pretty green eyes jaded in pleasure, bushy brows knit together, and chapped lips groaning explicit praise while she teeters on the edge of orgasm.

“so, so, nnng, s-so fucking good, that’s my girl.”

your desperate whimpers vibrating through ellie’s core are what does it. she fucks her pussy against your face with a guttural moan, head tipped back in pleasure.

and when it’s all over, she lifts you to your feet, redresses herself. chuckling at the sight of your wrecked face, lips and chin covered in spit and slick, ellie kisses you with the gentlest affection.

“good girl, you handled that so well. hm, shit, you’re messy.”

looking for something to clean you off with, the only thing ellie can find around is holy water. smirking, she pours some onto her hands, and massages it over your face.

“amen,” she whispers, nodding her head.

and ellie’s smile grows genuine when half lidded eyes meet her own, and you bow your head.

“amen.”

tags: @dinasvampgf @fadedin2u @eurewili @diddiqueen @machetegirl109 @craz1er4you @divinediorss @onlinelesbo @thecowardwrites

i may consider a part 3 let me know if you want it :) it would be fluffier 😭 maybe they'd leave the church? mybe consummating a marriage iywim... hmm...

#ellie williams x reader #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic #ellie fanfic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x yn #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #preacher!ellie

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stevie-petey · 3 months

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oh, you didn't know?

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.6k

Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.

Steve has never had the best timing.

When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died.

There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face.

Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”

“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over.

“Oh my god–”

“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”

Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped.

Well fuck.

“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”

You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”

The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit.

He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not.

Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.

So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side.

Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again.

You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out.

After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open.

Steve’s plan was foolproof.

Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend.

However, Steve really should’ve known better.

His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door.

There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.

“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him.

You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.

“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”

There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life.

At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place.

A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in.

Then, late January, your birthday came along.

This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.

You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake.

Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly.

Except that isn’t what happened.

What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in.

“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face.

Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”

You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him.

Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck.

He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something.

He’s miserable.

Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks.

You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts.

The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”

Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”

He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind.

“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear.

“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”

This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him.

“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”

Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”

At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”

“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”

Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”

“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along.

God, he is so stupidly in love with you.

He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist.

The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of.

Then, a thought occurs to Steve.

“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”

“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”

Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.

And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss.

Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time.

⌑ writing masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #m's writing #fluff #valentines day #enjoyyyyyy <3 #mans just wants a gf #bless him

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just-some-random-blogger · 8 months

Text

Safe Keeping | 2

Part 1 2 3

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut (dub con, primal play, PIV, rough sex), emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, canon typical casual misogyny, baby fever, typos, etc.

A/N: you guys, i dont want to edit the summary from p1 so i wont. also for future me here are the asks i got for this fic [x] [x] [x] which is like 🤯 cos i thought id get 5 notes on this tbh HAHAH originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds

I refused to leave my chambers when I woke.

Not only had I cried myself to sleep, but I had woken with puffy eyes and ended up crying all over again. I was glad that my doting handmaiden was so fiercely loyal to me. Lucy didn't think my weeping childish. She was understanding and eternally on my side. I am immensely grateful for it; I don't know what I would have done without her.

She helped me bathe and dress and eat, then entertained me with gossip from the servants. For a while that was enough.

As the day passed though, my thoughts muddled and left me restless. I could not do anything but obsess over the fact my husband left me after wifing me up.

"Do you think he will come back tonight?" I mutter as I stare blankly at my reflection on the mirror.

Lucy ceases combing my hair and takes my chin in her fingers. Paired with a hand on my shoulder, she silently urges me to straighten my back from my seat. I do just that. She smiles at me through the mirror, "my lady, if you wish it, I will look for him and make him come to you."

I release a breath, "don't be ridiculous."

"I am not being ridiculous," she sets the brush down, "I am being serious."

I feel my throat tighten. My lips quiver but I refuse to break down in tears again. I shake my head rapidly, unwilling to speak, for I knew I would crack if I did.

Lucy frowns in concern then kneels down on my side, grabbing my hand, "my lady, I would die for you."

I screw my eyes shut and break into a whine, "please-"

"I owe you my life," she clasps my hand with hers and brings it to her cheek, "you freed me from my chains. You clothed me, fed me, and showed me kindness none of my masters have ever shown me before," she looks up at me with a solemn expression then repeats, "I would die for you."

I shake my head and lean into her, "live for me, Lucy. I've forgotten what's it was like before you and I don't want to remember."

She kisses my hand and presses her forehead on mine before standing, "I shall do as you command."

She stands behind me and gathers my hair back. She strokes my locks and offers me a smile through the mirror once more. I smile back at her this time around.

The comfort she offers me finally seeps through me as she massages my shoulders.

"I pray the gods will swiftly bless me with a child so that I will have other things to do than await my husband so helplessly and forlorn."

"Well, you said that he pleasured you," Lucy tilts her head, "women who have not been pleasured still bea-

Lucy is cut off by the crashing open of the door. She and I both whip back, hearts in our mouths as we stare at our Lord Clegane, who was staring right back at us.

"What's wrong with you?" he demands. The metal of his armor clanks. I eye the one Lucy tidied to the side, the one I undid the night before, and turn back to him. His brown eyes look at me with such intense accusation.

I feel my hands tremble. I cannot for the life of me find the words to speak.

What did he even mean? How could he ask me this?

"No one has seen you all day," he says, "have you not left this room once?'

"She 'asn't," Lucy snaps, "milady has been feeling-"

"I wasn't talking to you, wench," the Hound does not turn to her when he says this. His eyes are very much still fixed on me, "I'm talking to my wife."

My wife. I look away. That's right, all that I am now is forfeit to him.

I gasp and turn back when I hear him marching over. Lucy places a protective hand on my shoulder and I find myself cowering into her touch. I clench my jaw and gulp when he stops in front of me.

He gazes upon me for the longest second of my life. He furrows his brows, "what's wrong with your fa-"

I flinch when he reaches out to my cheek.

Instantaneously, Lucy tightens her grip on me and blocks him, and Sandor cuts himself off and recoils before he can even touch my skin. He steps a few paces back then clenches his hand as if he'd gotten burnt.

We both evade each other's gaze. Sandor's eyes finally land on Lucy, "has she been crying?"

Lucy's blood boils. She hisses, "yes," then harshly pronounces, "milord."

Sandor turns away and twitches. He rolls his shoulders back and stretches his hands. He knocks on his chest plate. He looks to no one when he asks, "are you hurt?"

Lucy takes no care in masking her scoff or sigh. I take her arm and she watches me shake my head disapprovingly.

I do not look at anyone when I reply either, "I cannot say I'm not... lord husband."

A thick silence builds in the room within a moment.

When I dare too look at the Hound, he is already looking at me and suddenly speaks, "leave us, wench."

I turn to Lucy. She does not move an inch.

I give her an urging shake, but she is steadfast in her spot. Our Lord Clegane turns to her and grinds his teeth, "you will find I do not make habit of repeating myself."

I shoot up from my seat when Lucy presses forward and quips, "and you will find that I will not allow you to treat milady like this."

"Lucy!" I admonish, yanking her back.

Lucy glares daggers at him as I attempt to pacify and persuade her to leave us. Her eyes do not leave him as I sweep her out the room. I instruct her to walk around the gardens for a while then close the door after.

I press my back against the wooden surface as I look back to the man I was now alone with.

Sandor watches me expectantly. I do not say a word, for I did not know what he wanted to hear.

He finally breaks the silence, "you walk well enough."

I am dumbfounded by his choice of words. I dare not respond when I feel my lips quiver; instead, I nod quickly.

Sandor deeply furrows his brows. He shifts on his spot and chances a step in my direction, "why didn't you come out your room then?"

I lick my lips and shake my head. I turn away from him and mutter, "do I appear like I am in the state to be walking around when I look like this?"

"Like what?" he draws nearer.

I whip my head, "THIS!"

Sandor stops in his tracks. He looks at me, expressionless, "this what?"

I scoff in disbelief, feeling tears immediately soak my face. I whisper, "look at me."

"I am, with both eyes."

"And you see nothing?" I mutter shakily, "feel nothing?'

"Should I feel something?"

My chest sinks; it feels like it's caving in. He might as well gut me and spit on my bones. I turn to my feet and wipe my cheeks, "no. I suppose not."

Sandor curses under his breath. He rips at his collar, suddenly feeling his armour weigh down on him. He feels unbelievably hot. He clears his throat, "it hurts."

I look up at him.

"It hurts the first time, usually," he clarifies, "or in times you're not wet enough." He nods, "you were wet enough."

My entire being burns at his words, at his nonchalance. My face is searing in embarrassment and shame.

I want to scream at him, want to hurtle into him and demand to know why he left me, why he was so removed, but then I find the answers in my head. It dawns on me that he acted carelessly because he didn't care. He didn't want this. He didn't want me. All of it was forced. And so I hold my tongue.

Instead, I calmly explain, "my hurt is not bodily, Sandor."

Sandor's stomach rolls at the sound of his name.

"I was," I turn to space between us, "hurt that you left me. And-" I shake my head as tears rush from my eyes, "I've realized now that it's wrong of me to be."

I put a brave face on in spite of my weeping and hold his stare. The man is as stoic and hard as ever. I scoff at myself for feeling this way.

"Worry no longer, Hound," I open the door, "I will not cause you trouble again."

I step back and make way for him to exit.

He looks at me for what feels like an eternity then marches out the door.

"And have you-"

Lucy and I gasp and turn at once.

"-named it yet, Lady Clegane?"

I chuckle guilty, "Lord Varys."

The man nods to me in regard, "good morrow to you."

I curtsy to him, as does my handmaiden. Lucy lifts her skirt as inconspicuously as possible in hopes to block what was behind her.

Varys catches this and waves his hands, "there be no need for that, my dear. The stray is an obedient one, isn't it?"

I share a look with Lucy before we step back and reveal the dog behind us. Daisy was panting and wagging her tail. She had her front paw bent, for it had been broken and healed that way. I had a maester examine it. In the end, he said it was pointless to put a split because it would not fix her leg and Daisy just kept chewing it anyway.

Daisy closes her mouth and sniffs the man.

"Ah," Varys smiles at the creature, "may I pet it?"

Lucy nods and eagerly explains, "she's Daisy; she is incredibly sweet, milord."

Varys cheerfully scratches the crown of the dog's head.

Though he laughs, my own face contorts into an opposite expression, "please make no note of it to my husband."

Varys looks at me exaggeratedly, as though he was offended.

I continue, "she makes me happy."

"One does not need to be told that to know," he presses his lips together. He links his hands, "I imagine you must be rather heavyhearted since the arrival of your womanly bleeding."

I drop my gaze upon hearing this. The master of whispers truly knew all. Lucy turns to me, then back to him, "milord, it's not proper to mention these things."

Varys measures my reaction before turning to Lucy, "yes. I suppose one such as myself has no business speaking of such things." He raises a finger, "still, if you should ever need assistance with that or your stray, know that my services are available to you, my lady."

I smile at him and nod, "I thank you for it, Lord Varys."

With that, he walks away.

"Do you think he will tell him?" Lucy asks as she grabs my arm.

I sigh and turn Daisy.

I've only had her for few days but she's given me purpose. I named her Daisy because she turned up from a bush of daisies while I read in the gardens. I was shocked, puzzled with how she got there, and a little scared she would bite me. When I noticed her injury, I figured she must be very weak and offered her food. She had my heart the moment she licked my fingers.

It was fate, I figured. I had not read in the gardens since the Hound berated me for it, and she came out of nowhere. When I imagine what would have happened to her if anyone else found her, I dread to think of the fact she could have been struck dead. The gods must have sent her to me, to remedy my sorrow and fill in for the absence of my Hound.

I was meant to save Daisy, and she was meant to save me.

I shake my head, "I'll have someone keep her tonight."

The Hound stops in his tracks when he witnesses what he does from afar. A blazing fury engulfs him as he watches two women walk away. The guard, who was spoken to, ogle their figures as they did.

Sandor laughs under his breath, but of course, nothing about this situation was funny to him.

He immediately charges when the guard is left alone, stupidly attending to an open crate-- he'll fucking bash it into his skull.

The guard goes back to his post and spots the approaching giant. At first, he is unfazed by the Hound but fear quickly finds him when he realizes he was heading straight for him.

He does not speak. The Hound simply grabs him by the chest plate, lifts him up and slams him on to the stone wall. He was angry-- worse, he was irrational.

"Why was she speaking to you?!" he snaps, "what business do you have with her?!"

The guard does not waste a second in spilling his guts, "Lady Clegane paid me to watch her dog!" He sounded like he was about to piss his pants.

"What?!" he seethes.

"The crate! The crate! There's a dog in the crate!"

Sandor shoves him away and walks toward the crate. Lo and behold, the Hound sees the mutt, fur a light shade of brown, tongue out as it pant, right arm curled up.

He draws his sword.

Lucy and I head back to my chambers after eating supper. Our chattering is abruptly cut when he step in and see the Hound's hulking figure.

To say I am shocked is an understatement. I am terrified. He has not come to my chambers since the day after our wedding night, and now, here he was after Lord Varys confronted me. I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat, "my lord, I-"

"Don't you have one too many dogs now?" he growls.

Lucy is unable to hide the sound that leaves her mouth. My eyes begin to water as trepidation rips up my neck. I whisper, "Sandor."

Sandor flinches. He huffs, "what were you doing with it? You playing dolls with it, girl?"

"I saved her!" I explain with a shaky voice. "I fed her, gave her water-"

"Its leg is broken. You keep it in a crate. It's mercy for me to kill it."

Lucy gasps. My stomach drops and I run up to him, "no. Please. Please, tell me you didn't-"

I start when I see something move on the bed. I let out a shaky breath when a bark echoes in the room. I had never been more relieved to see Daisy than now.

Sandor growls, "OFF!" He marches to the bed and charges at the her. I shriek and grab his arm, holding him back. Of course, I nearly shoot forward for what was my strength against his? Still, he turns back to me and huffs. Daisy jumps down the bed and comes to my side.

Lucy grabs her and leads her to the corner of the room.

I continue to beg, "please, don't kill her. Please, I beg of you."

"You pay the guards to watch the mutt," Sandor yanks his arm away; the action hurts my hand. He seethes, "you're better off selling the bitch to a butcher as pig food."

I wail, "it was only this time! I have kept her with me since before." I drop to my knees, "please, I will ask nothing more of you," hot tears burn down all the way down to my chest. "I beg that you just let her live."

Sandor steps back and looks down at me. I can see how pathetic he thinks I am at this moment, and yet I find myself unable to care.

"You will ask me nothing more, aye?" he scoffs. His lips curl, "don't you want a child?"

My expression drops.

"You would rather save the bitch than have a babe?"

I am unable to speak.

Why is he doing this to me?

"Well?!" he demands.

I screw my eyes shut when some of his spit sputters to my face. I turn to the floor, "she's been keeping me company in your absence. She's-"

"Ah, so that's why she feels so comfortable on the bed. You sleep with her."

I look up at him, about to explain that she sleeps on the floor and has never done that before. I do not have the chance.

"Well then keep your stray," he scoffs, "and have it fuck a babe into you."

The Hound storms off right after.

He grips his hand and his hilt as he marches away.

He should have killed it, he shouldn't have hesitated. The only reason he did was because it didn't flinch at his sword. The mutt was so dumb it had no fear. It even propped on the crate and tried sniffing the steel. Brainless.

His insides feel like they were boiling.

He knew the little girl would weep if he killed it, yet he didn't and there were tears anyway. He curses loudly. It reverberates in the hall.

He should have killed it.

Now it was too late.

"I see you make friends even with stray cats now, my lady."

I look over my shoulder after the cat I was petting runs off because of the voice. Lord Baelish comes up to me, sparing a quick glance to the orange feline that jumped down the wall. He turns back to me with a smile, "pardon me, Lady Clegane, I did not mean to frighten the kitty."

I shake my head, returning a soft smile. I wrap my arms around myself, still not entirely used to the light fabric and freeness of the dresses I've been wearing lately, "it's alright, my lord. The cats do not like people."

Baelish walks in front of me and smiles wider, "they must see you their goddess then."

I shake my head and give a soft chuckle.

"Where is your hound?" he asks.

I stiffen.

He clarifies, "I mean the one with the broken leg."

I release a breath and look out to the view, "I had my handmaiden bathe her."

"Mmm," Baelish looks out to the view with me, "thus why you sought the cats."

A breeze brushes past us.

I do not turn to him, but I know he turns to me. He speaks, "one such as you should not be left alone or unaccompanied."

"Why? Would you hurt me, Lord Baelish?"

He chuckles, "and risk getting mauled by the Hound? I would not."

I watch as a flock of birds fly overhead.

"Other things perhaps," he says.

I do not respond to him.

A moment passes with nothing but looking and silence.

I feel his hot breath when he sighs deeply, "I remember clearly the day I first met you."

Baelish speaks my first name and it's enough to finally make me to turn to him. In truth, my name sounds foreign to me. Who I was has been long overshadowed by Lady Clegane... or, more accurately, the Hound himself.

"You were a vibrant flower. Your fragrance wafted through the room the moment you stepped in," he says, taking one step closer. "Being around you was a privilege; conversing with you, a prize."

I blink at his words, taking in the lines of his face, "and now," I clasp my hands together, "I've withered away, have I?"

His Baelish-blue eyes appear to be solemn. My lips part when he takes my hands in his. He speaks under his breath, "you are more radiant than ever."

I do not move an inch.

"Take heart," he speaks my name again, "hounds are crushed under heels of goddesses."

I pull away from him and shake my head, "do not speak blasphemy with me."

He laughs, bringing his hands behind him, "ever devout and god-fearing." He raises an arm, "shall we part ways by the stables? I will be heading out of the keep."

I debate for a moment. Ultimately, I offer polite smile and decide to agree.

We walk with no sense of urgency. I never knew Petyr to be one for small talk, and so I am surprised that he asks me about my dresses. In truth, I really shouldn't have been.

"Your dresses are Dornish, are they not?" he raises a brow.

"Dornish-like," I clarify, "it was my usual tailor that made my new dresses. I feared if I asked a Dornish tailor for a modest silhouette, I'd be colder than I am now."

We share a soft laugh.

He shrugs, "the style suits you still," he smiles. "Undoubtedly, the Dornes would love to dress you in their more traditional clothing."

I purse my lips and raise my brows, "wouldn't you like that, Petyr?"

He chuckles, slightly in disbelief by the casual referral. He raises his hands, "I said the Dornes. I am not Dornish, my dear."

When we reach the stables, I stop in my tracks, not because we're about to depart, but because his words freeze me in my spot.

"Surely, our Lord Clegane finds it hard to keep his hands off you."

I do my best to stay neutral, to not give myself away. Baelish holds back a smirk.

"Wouldn't you like to know what me and Lord Clegane get up to?"

Baelish laughs, "if I'm being honest, I do."

I roll my eyes at him and nod dismissively, "farewell, my lord."

He nods back with a chuckles, "and you, my lady."

I promptly head to my chambers after this. As I walk on, however, I remember that another day has passed with me not seeing Lord Clegane. I am unsure if it was deliberate or coincidental, but it was the fact either way.

It had been a handful of days since my monthly bleeding passed. I was never a regular bleeder, and when it came this time around, it stayed longer than usual. I was glad with his absence then, in not needing to explain myself to my him. The moment it had finished, however, I expected I would at least see him once.

I did not.

This lead to my decision to be more... seductive.

And, well yes, or course, he yelled at me and told me to have my bitch fuck me instead-- truly, there was a large pit of dread in my stomach because of this, but people say a lot of things in anger, things they don't mean. He could not have meant that.

I rub my belly, willing the dread away.

I refuse to believe he meant that.

I suck in a breath and decide to head to the king's chambers.

Besides, I've been assured over and under that men really like making babies.

My breath hitches when I catch sight of the Hound, guarding the door. I see him do a double take when he spots me, and yet he gazes into space in the end.

"Good evening, my lord," I curtsy at him.

He grunts with exasperation, "what are you doing here?"

"I wanted," I measure my words carefully, "to request you not stay out late tonight."

The man turns his head fully to me, "what?"

I feel my throat itch. I clear my throat, "I was hoping that you come to my chambers before too late."

Sandor shifts in his spot. He eyes me up and down. I feel like I am being burned alive under his gaze.

He looks away and shifts back in place.

I open my mouth but I don't get to speak at all.

"Dog. Dog! Come inside, I-" King Joffrey calls but then ceases when he steps out of the room and sees me.

I immediately curtsy, "my king. Good evening."

Joffrey raises a brow and demands to know why I'm here, referring to me by the house I was born into.

I offer him a smile, "I wanted to speak to my lord husband, your grace."

His face contorts in deep bewilderment. He opens his mouth and raises a finger, "why would you come h-" he turns to the Hound and stops himself. He breaks into a laugh. He laughs so hard that he clutches his stomach, "oh!" He wheezes, "oh, I've forgotten about that!"

King Joffrey calms down with a sigh. He from to his Kingsguard then to me, eyeing my attire. He chuckles under his breath as his eyes rake me down, "I see your wife has dressed to seduce you, dog." His looks up to my face, "or wouldn't that make you bitch?"

I do not respond for a moment, put on the spot by his malice, but then my wits finally meet me. I curtsy to the king, "I am what my king makes me to be."

Joffrey laughs airily. He shakes his head, "my, dog," he turns to his guard, "I've truly matched you well," he pats his shoulder plate, "too well, in fact."

He then retreats into his chambers, calling out as he did, "you're dismissed, dog. Breed your bitch as you like."

The door slams shut.

I release a breath once the king leaves, clutching my belly as I did so.

Sandor does not move an inch from his spot. He does not look at me.

I begin to get nervous all over again. I try, "husband?"

"You think I'll answer to your whistle just because you're dressed like a whore?"

My face hardens. I look away from him. I mean I expected as much.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "I only wanted to please you-"

He scoffs.

I look back at him, "I will dress more modestly if it is what you'd like."

"I'd like not to see you whoring around."

I am unable to withhold my scoff, "I am what my lord makes me out to be."

The Hound finally spares me a glance. I glare at him as I curtsy, "apologies for the impertinence." I turn on my heels and walk away. My anger and vexation gets the best of me. I cannot help but jeer, "if my dress angers you so, take it off me then."

Sandor shifts on his spot.

I continue down the hall.

His lips curl as he growls lowly, "run."

I do not hear anything but my own grumbling.

"Run, little girl!" he barks, making me jolt and turn back to him with a scowl. The irritation is apparent in my face as I stop at the end of the hall, "what?"

The Hound begins to march over. My heart races as I hear him warn, "run, if you know what's good for you"

I begin to shuffle back.

"I'll tear that shit off your body when I catch you."

I break into a sprint at the sound of his threat.

I don't look back. I heave heavily as I rush down the halls. I don't hear him chasing after me, though once I'm far, I see him treading fast as the times he's dragged me by the arm. My stomach flurries with anxiousness and regret.

When I reach my chambers, I mentally debate whether or not I should lock the door. I gulp at the idea of him breaking it down. I decide I do not want a memory such as that to be branded into my brain.

I gasp when he bursts into the room. I grip my skirts from the edge of the bed where where I sat.

The Hound locks the door before walking over to me. He grabs my shoulders and shoves me down on my belly.

I squeak when he grabs my skirts and rips it all the way up my ribs. He scoffs, "fucking parchment."

I hear him grab something by my vanity. I do not dare to look at him. I proceed to hear him undo his armor and his clothes.

I hear a pop. I yelp when he grabs my smallclothes and yanks them down. I groan into the cushions when I feel his fingers toy with my folds.

"Don' fink you nee' vis," he speaks like something was in his mouth. He pulls his hand away and suddenly the smell of my lavender oil assaults my senses. I hear a squelch. Something is thrown to my side; it's my vial.

I squeak when he grabs my hips. He sighs, "you're ready on your own." We both make noises when he begins to thrust into me. The Hound growls, "little girl likes to be chased."

I am shoved into the cushions. My entire body tenses.

"You want to dress like a whore," he taunts, "I'll fuck you like a whore."

His tempo is brutal and harsh. He does not relent or give me leeway. It's strange and shameful that my body even feels tingles of pleasure.

I cannot help the screams that rip out of my throat. Had I not been faced down on the cushion, I fear that I would have woken the dead.

I call out his name when he hoists my hips up. My toes could no longer touch the floor. He begins moving faster. My hands dig into the sheets. I feel my eyes water.

The Hound howls. He shoves me down and suddenly my feet are on the ground. He plunges deep, it makes my eyes roll back. His thrusts become increasingly irregular and after with a few more slaps, he stops.

I catch my breath, thanking the gods he's shown mercy.

I whine when I feel him pull away. I gulp and shift on my spot. I anticipate his next movements. I hear a rustle. I lift my head up and look back at him, confused by the sight of him tying himself up.

Was... was it done?

"Don't think to have that dress mended, girl," he pants as he grabs something from the floor. I roll on my back, feeling uneasy because of the wetness between my thighs. I watch him unlock the door and slam the door on his way out.

All hells were breaking loose. King's Landing was under attack, the castle was on fire, and Stannis Baratheon was winning.

All the women and children holed up in the queen's retreat chamber spilled out to gods know where.

My mind was racing, yet all I could think was: run, flee, Lucy, Daisy, Hound.

I was already running. I was already fleeing. I was doing both with Lucy in my grip. I had Lucy, but I did not have Daisy.

We were running up to my chambers. I left Daisy there, my poor Daisy. We were fleeing up the stairs in haste, sparing no time to catch a breath.

I had no idea what we were to do. We could bar the door, block it with our bed. Lucy and I could manage it, I think. Was it a good idea? Would it guarantee our safety? There was only one way we'd know.

I quickly open the door and lock it once Lucy and I are inside.

We take a moment to finally catch our breath. Lucy grabs my arms and I grab hers. I can feel her shaking. I rub her skin, "it will be alright. No harm will reach us here."

Lucy shakes her head, "milday, you and me both know that's not true."

My heart shatters when I catch the way her eyes water. "Shhh," I pull her into a hug, "have I ever failed you, Lucy?"

She seals her arms around me and whispers, "no."

"Nothing will happen to us," I rub her back, "I will protect you."

"And I, you," she pulls away, "as will Daisy," she wipes her tears before they fall, "and the 'ound."

We scream when we hear a voice in the room. We press our back against the wall and turn to the bed. A figure is sat on the floor by its side. What was said was, "your mutt is stupid."

Lucy and I clutch each other for dear life. I recognized that voice. I muster the courage to tiptoe towards the figure and breathe out shakily when I confirm the presence, "Sandor?"

The man turns to me as we walk up to him. Sandor had Daisy on his lap. She looked up and blinked at me before closing her eyes. She was being pet a bloody hand and did not mind at all.

"She was jumped on me when I walked in. She looked excited," he turns to Daisy, "stupid bitch. Anyone else would have chopped her up."

I find myself releasing a breath of relief. Here now was Daisy, and Hound. I had nothing left to think about.

I walk up to him, kneeling on his side. He turns to me. I examine his face, dirtied and bloodied, "are you hurt?"

He looks at me for a moment. I watch him slowly raise his hand. He cautiously touches my cheek. I clutch his wrist in my hands. He swipes his thumb on my skin, "save your tears." I didn't even know I shed them. "None of the fuckers got close enough to try."

He draws his hand back. He grunts as he gets to his feet. Daisy moves back, wobbling on her three legs; I move back too.

"Take your valuables," the Hound grunts, "we're fucking leaving."

I pull my head back. I watch the man survey the room.

Lucy runs up to my side and she wipes my cheek with her skirt. She watches the red collect on the fabric and wonders who it belonged to. She wagers it's not from her lord.

I shake my head in confusion as Sandor grabs a satchel and stuffs my jewelry in it, "I don't understand. Aren't you going to fight?"

"Fuck the fight," he quips as he shoves objects down and raids through the drawers and closets.

Lucy finishes wiping my face. I walk off and grab all my hidden pouches of gold. I hand it to Sandor, "what about the king?"

"Fuck the king," he takes the pouches and stuffs it into the bag, "fuck him especially."

Sandor then chucks the satchel to Lucy, who grunts when she catches it.

"The stupid fuck's done nothing but fuck around," he picks up Daisy, propping her front legs on his shoulder, "no good thing's come from that fuck." He takes me by the hand and mumbles, " 'cept for one."

He releases me only to unlock the door and hold me again. He does not let me go until we reach the outside of the keep.

The whole lot was in disarray; dead bodies, debris, and fire littered the scene. He hands me Daisy, and I struggle slightly to carry her, considering she was not a small breed. He walks not too far off and brings a wandering horse over.

It's a wonder we do not encounter anyone on this side of the castle, more so that we find a horse.

Sandor takes Daisy and puts her down before helping me mount the steed. My stomach rolls with how his touch lingered on my thigh once I was on.

Next, he took the satchel from Lucy and handed it to me. He then eyed her when she stepped forward, as if debating whether or not he wanted to bring her along. Before she or I could speak up about it, Sandor is already helping her climb up behind me. Lucy takes the satchel from me and eyes him after. He rolls his eyes.

He picked up Daisy and tried handing her to me. However, she struggled too much and could not fit in my arms, so he cursed and threw her back onto his shoulders. He grabbed the horse's reins and started walking.

"Fucking bitch, fucking wench, fucking horse, fucking war, fucking-"

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kurosstuff · 3 months

Note

Hi could I please request a Lute x GN! Reader where Lute and reader get into an argument before the failed extermination and reader dies?

( if you aren’t comfy please ignore this ask ^^ thank youu )

But huge warning? This is a darkish fic. Like its detailed- kinda

I'm gonna mix this with an idea I was actually making similar to this request if you don't mind♡

Warning(s): cannibalsm(..there's cannibals around), blood. War. DEATH(a littke detailed) like? Implied what's happening. just? Very sad, slight toxic relationship?(lute doesn't understand-)

Lute x Reader

Fights were common. Especially in relationships. Only difference in heaven given how usually no one fights. Unless your lover happened to be lute.

Most fights with lute don't typically end with a screaming match. But in this case, it did. It was the worst fight you've ever had with her. You assumed it was from whatever Adam did. But now? As your pacing ignoring her as she screamed her head off at you. You don't know.

You don't even know what triggered her violent self. Sighing, you shook your head. "Lute. You're a cruel woman, " which? Set her off into a rose tantrum, sighing, rubbing your head at the growing headache. From these arguments, you opened your mouth to apologize just to get this over with

"Drop dead Y/N" she snarled out before freezing. Everything became quiet as you stared at her, confused, shocked? You didn't know what to feel. Turning you did what you should have done.

You walked away

Not once since your fight did you go back home. You didn't want to talk to her. Fight anymore, especially now as you trained for the next battle. Going to the hotel itself.

Frowning, you sighed, ignoring how Adam himself moved to try and convince you to talk to Lute "no Adam. She knows she fucked up. She needs to apologize, " you snarled, glaring at his attempt to again fix you both up. Walking right past him you sighed.

You both knew? Lute would never apologize. Her pride is too big.

If anything, she expects you to apologize to her for starting something(even though she did) closing your eyes to ignore the regret. Ignore the need to find her. Kiss her. Tell her everything is going to be fine- wrap her in your wings and hold your mate. But you don't. You walk right past her training

She needed to do it. You won't hold her hand through this. It's her responsibility to take care of her mistakes.

The battle was a mess. It's a huge mess. Everyone was dying. Angels demons - all around you was just blood shed.' Your missing leg was evidence of this matter. Closing your eyes behind your broken mask, you smiled. Lute would be fine. She's safe. She'd get out

That's all that mattered to you

You prayed Lute wouldn't find you. Prayed she would just fight leave with Adam like usual and just go home during arguments. Just have faith you'd come home.

Your lip quivered as memories with her flashed through your mind. All the good the bad. Everything. As footsteps and cackling was heard around you. A tear ran down your face

"I love you lute" was all you could say before hands grabbed at you.

Lute was in a panic flying around the blood shed searching high and low for you. Where the fuck can you have gone? Snarling easily sliced a demon, not even looking before she paled getting pissed the usual Lute as she stared at you cornered by cannibals watching you' as If? They were waiting for something to happen.

Lute flew fast, which was hard given the state of her bleeding wing plus missing arm? It wasn't gonna be easy "YOU LET THEM GO YOU FUCKER" she screamed filled with rage and panic.

Please. Don't take them- not them

Tears mixed with her blood as she landed on the ground on her two feet, rushing forward to fight to save you before hands pushed her down those bloodied cannibals forming around the two of you like a ring.

PLEASE- DONT FUCKING TAKE THEM. Is all that's going through her mind. She lost Adam. She was too late but- not you' not her dove. Not her lover. Not her life

"UNHAND THEM -" she screamed out as panic setting in once more as she - too weak from blood loss - was pinned forced to watch as the cannibals above you began their meal. Tearing your once gorgeous white wings off that gold blood splattering everywhere

She couldn't hear anything besides your screens. God. Those begs of Freedom and someone else's screams - before she realized the one screaming was her as she screamed bloody murder. Screamed for you to be let go' to get a chance at life. You didn't deserve this. "TAKE ME. IM THE ONE YOU WHAT NOT THEM THEY DONT DESERVE THIS PLEASE -" How pathetic. Her once cold, strong, commanding voice now broken hoarse clear pain as she begged for your life

She couldn't help but scream even louder as they mauled you like some starved animals given a meal for the first time in weeks. As if I had never been fed before - screaming loudly, she didn't stop until she no longer could anymore.

Until she tasted the blood eyes closing, no longer able to look at your mangled body. How bone poked out chewed up like dogs eat their bones. Hiding her face into the dirt screaming muffled that sickening crunch of bones shattering

She doesn't remember what happened next. Doesn't remember grabbing your halo with Adam's clinging to then as someone dragged her away. Looking she sobbed, unlike how Adam had a body. There was none. Just a golden ground. They ate you. Every single piece. Clothing and all. The only way she knew you were there was for the halo they allowed her to grab. The blood on the floor, as the cannibal who watched her licked the blood

She's going to make them pay. Screaming in rage. She'll make them all pay. She'll kill every single one of those fucking demons. Those vile things. She'll avenge her boss- Adam. And more importantly, avenge you. Her one and only love

Staring at them all, she spoke for the final time full of venom. Hate. "I'll kill each and every one of you"

Later, as she sat on your shared bed, unable to look in your side of the bed, she let herself grieve alone. Sob for Adam. But here and now? She sobbed for her true love. The one who would COULD own her heart. Soul and all.

The last interaction she had with you made her sob harder. Why was she cruel? Why was she such a fucking bitch? She didn't deserve you. She couldn't protect you. Hell, she couldn't even show she loved you -

As she held the picture of the two of you, she choked sobbing out, "I didn't even say I love you-" The last thing she ever spoke to you, her lover? Wasn't a gentle thing, but rather her telling you to drop dead. "I'm so sorry, my dove -"

And you did.

And lute? Has to live with that. Forever.

#hazbin lute #lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #adam

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diejager · 4 months

Note

I MISSED YOU ASK BOX. [BURIES YOU IN PLUSHIES AND MUAH MUAH MUAH-] THANK YOU FOR YOUR DEDICATION!!!!

i read your match made in hell! makarov x reader scenario and !!!! it's so good!!! honestly im having a hard time finding evil 'couples' and whatnot!!

can i request more? i dont have a specific prompt really- please and thank you!!!! [MUAH MUAH MUAH]

Can I keep the plushies????

Schemes Cw: canon-typical violence, mention of violence, canon divergence?, tell me if I missed any.

“Мой милый котёнок,” he whispered lowly, a seductive smile playing on his lips as he kissed down your arm. His lips trailed down your inner forearm, peppering your scarred skin with featherlight kisses and lingering on the pulse of your wrist, a display of loyalty —or as loyal as he could be. “You are vicious; lethal.”

He often complimented you, telling you how you were made for one another, your lethal planning and his vile games. He showered you in this - needed - devotion to show you how much you played your part in his plan, in the betterment of his country where he could easily give you whatever you wanted at the drop of the finger. If he played his card well enough, you’d stick to his side a while longer, dedicating your time to him as much as he spent on you, running after you and bartending with you.

“My precious котёнок.”

His lips lingered on your palm, hesitant to part with your rough fingers, scarred from all the hard work you put in your syndicate, the time and deaths it took for you to build your power and reputation. He had both power and time, having all he could wish for with Konni and his little piggy bank, the financer that grew attached to his cause and devoted her time and money to him. He had all, but he hungered for more, starving for the excitement you could provide that others couldn’t. That trickiness and effort he had to put to stay in your good light, keeping you by his side as the leader of another strong faction.

“What exactly is your plan, Makarov?” You had this cold gleam in your eyes, conniving and scheming, always ready to fight him tooth and nail in case he wanted to overthrow you or play you. He admired that about you, prepared to be ten feet ahead of both allies and enemies. “I need to know what you want to help you.”

He hummed, rising to take your hands within his, cradling them as if he was praying to you, posturing before a higher figure in his life —perhaps you were at this point of his life, something he needed to have and something he wanted to cling onto for a future he saw, one that he imagined. He, after all, had obsessions that he planned on keeping close and those he would chain down to him, and you were the latter.

“Price will want revenge,” he started slowly, his dark eyes gazing into your own, watching you construct and build a scenario and add every little aspect to it, strategising a way to victory, “He will come with more force. I hear that Shadow Company is helping them.”

You contemplated his words, your pretty face splitting in a cruel grin. You leaned into him, arms easing out of his hold to grip his waist and pulled him against you, his broad chest flushed against yours. He could feel the warmth of your hands through his clothes, a grating feeling if you weren’t such an important figure in his kingdom.

“Then we prepare and strike when they’re in their weakest,” your smile portrayed one of innocence, bright eyes and small grin, as if you hadn’t seen your fair share of dogfights. “Is that not what we usually do, Makarov?”

Taglist:@sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #mw3 makarov #makarov #cod makarov #vladimir makarov #call of duty makarov #makarov call of duty #vladimir makarov x reader #makarov x reader #call of duty modern warfare 3

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soyaei · 3 months

Note

hello!! would you be comfortable writing about high school nanami? just as you were about to confess your feelings to him, a series of bizarre events unfolded, derailing your plans and leading to unexpected consequences 🤩

Hey… Can i tell you something?

highschoolau!nanami kento x female reader

not proofread so please forgive for the grammar mistakes or some spelling mistakes.

Nanami was popular with the girls, and that includes you. Except… you were actually kind of getting the vip treatment from him. He was never really interested in talking with the girls who were squealing over him. The girls were crazy over him, and you were too. But you weren’t really showing that craziness of yours because you actually know what shame is.

To get straight to the point, you were Nanami’s classmate. Sure, nothing that special. But the thing is, Nanami’s english is… a bit bad, but not horrible. And you, you could say you speak english like its your mother tongue language. So maybe thats the reason Nanami wanted you to be his outside of school english teacher. A lot of his fangirls knew this and boy you never would imagine the day you would get so many jealous looks.

But aside from that, Nanami actually sometimes ask you to hangout with him without any special occasion, he claims it to be a thanks and all but in the inside, he just wanted to spend some time with you. He himself didn’t know why he was feeling it or knew how to explain the feeling.

Days turn by weeks, weeks turn by months and months turn by years. Your feelings towards Nanami has increased and you have been his very close classmate for 3 years now, and for that 3 years you had to fight the urge to yell your feelings towards him, to express how you really felt about him. But knowing that he was already tired of his fangirls and he probably hangout with you because he thought you might be the only girl that doesn’t have a crush on him, you stopped yourself.

But today was different, today… you were going to confess. You prayed that this wouldn’t affect your friendship and if he didn’t like you back, you at least hope that he wouldn’t avoid you.

The bell rings, it was finally time for lunch. You sat up, took you wallet and went to Nanami’s desk. “Hey, Kento, we should go sit at the bench near the field. I heard no one uses it! The surrounding there must be relaxing, i’m sure you’ll like it.” You said, not realizing that you forgot to breathe while talking.

“Okay then, im fine with sitting anywhere. I’ll just go to the canteen to get some foo-“

“Kento!!!”

Oh no, a fangirl! You’re definitely getting side eyed. The fangirl, named (someone you dont like), caged her arms with Nanami’s. Nanami immediately backed off and told her to not touch him without consent again. Kind of like scolding, typical Kento Nanami.

“Don’t be mad!!! When we’re dating, I won’t need to ask before touching you, so you have to get used to it!!!” When she said that, you clenched your fist, wishing you could just smack down her right here and right now.

Nanami, on the other hand, made a disgusted face. The girl was used to it so she wasn’t offended. She laughed it off instead. “Oh, Kento, your so cute when you do that face! You should do it to Y/n too, didn’t she just asked you to go to that bench near the field? No one is around there, you know. Who knows if she’s planning to lay hands on you.” You clenched your fist harder, you wanted to say something but Nanami calmed you down by patting you back. Seems like he knew you were about to say the most sassiest comeback to the girl but stopped you right there to not cause a scene.

Nanami gave you a sign to run out of the door together by looking at you and then the door. You nodded slowly and counted 3 to 1 with your fingers. As it reached 1 and the girl distracted by yapping about whatever she had in mind to say to Nanami, you two immediately ran to the door, getting out of the class and ran to the cafeteria. You managed to run without getting caught by a teacher or the principal. You two tried to catch up with your breathe when you two arrived at the canteen.

“Better hurry up before she gets here.”

You and Nanami were finally at your destination, the bench near the field that didn’t get much attention because it was a bit far away from the canteen. Making the place’s surrounding being peaceful.

“It feels nice here. I hope we won’t get disturbed.”

Nanami said. Nanami was calm but you were the opposite. Well, you were collected on the outside but in the inside you were really stressing out. You guys are alone, nows the chance! Your going to confess! You can’t believe it!

“Hey… Can i tell you something?” You asked to Nanami. He nodded to reassure you that you should continue. As soon as you were about to tell him you feelings, the girl from before and her gang came out of nowhere with phones recording both you and Nanami. For some reason, you felt extremely exposed. You could be naked right now and you wouldn’t feel this exposed and embarrassed.

“Hey, look at this guys! The girl who thinks shes so better than everyone because Kento is her ‘bEsT fRiEnD’ is going to confess her feelings!” (the name of someone you hate) said out loudly, catching some people’s attention while recording the scene with her phone.

“Does she think she has a chance just because shes Kento’s friend?”

“Probably, i wouldn’t test my luck if i was her.”

“Shes embarrassing herself.”

“Why would anyone confess empty handed? At least offer him some chocolate while at it.”

“He probably never liked her and is just her friend to do her a favor for being his english teacher..”

The whispers of peoples gossip was louder than anyone’s scream to you. You never felt this humiliated.

“Y/n, sorry.” Kento said out of nowhere.

“Hu-“ before you could even finish your sentence, Nanami grabbed your hand and pulled you to a near classroom that no one was in.

When you two arrived, Nanami closed the door and tried to catch up with his breathe.

"Nanami... I-" You tried to say something, but because you were out of breathe, you could barely let any words out of your mouth. "Y/n, please sit down first. No need to rush." Nanami said as he lead you to a seat.

When you finally calmed down, Nanami reassures you to continue what you wanted to say when you were rudely interrupted by (the name of someone you hate). "I... you know what, nevermind. I will tell you tomorrow." When you said, Nanami raised one of his eyebrows. But then he thought to himself, it was probably something important and you don't have the mood to say it anymore since who knows if that girl is still watching.

"All right then. I'll wait. It doesn't have to be tomorrow, you can tell me later if you want too." Nanami tells you.

The next day comes, at you two were at the same location you were at yesterday. Except, you could confirm that no one is watching since school is over. You and Nanami often walked to home together so he was fine with you wanting to stay here for a bit. "So, what did you want to tell me yesterday? You said you'd tell me it today." Nanami breaks the silence.

"O-Oh! Right, I almost forgot about that since the breeze is so calming today... heh...But anways... i want to... tell you... that..."

Oh god, here it goes. Your going to say it! You had to wait for the right moment for three years! Without realizing, your face was heating up. You wasted no time and stood up, facing Nanami and tell him what you have always wanted to say...

"Nanami! I like you! I... I have liked you even before we became friends." ...Silence.

"I...I thought-"

"He doesn't like you back, give up!" Oh. My. GOD. IT'S THE GIRL FROM BEFORE. WHY IS SHE HERE, HOW DID SHE KNOW WE WERE HERE, AND WHY IS SHE RECORDING!!!

"And... post. Heh, have fun getting gossipped tomorrow, Y/n!" (the name of someone you hate) then runs away. You feel so embarrassed right now. You don't want to listen to what she just said but what if she's right? What did Nanami wanted to say? He thought what? He thought that i was different from other girls in this school so i wouldn't like him in a romantic way?! Just as you thought that mindset to yourself. You took your bagpack from the bench and ran away, not realizing your eyes are already tearing up. Nanami just watched the scene unfolds as he was too shocked to do anything right now.

The next day arrives, and you tried your best to ignore the stuff people are saying about the confession you made yesterday. As if your not feeling worse that Nanami probably doesn't like you back and wouldn't want to be your friend anymore. Class was just normal, and in two hours it's already lunch break. You didn't feel like eating so you planned on just staying at the field. As you tried to calm yourself down and tell yourself that it's okay if Nanami doesn't like you back, someone pushed you shoulder harshly, but it didn't make you fall down.

"What's up lonely girly? What chu doing? And where's your closeeee friendddd" (the name of someone you hate) said to you in a high pitched voice and whining at the end of her sentence to annoy you more. What did you do? You... just... well... listened to whatever she wanted to tell you. You seriously had no energy to even make a facial expression or even care about your surrounding.

"Hey." A familiar voice interrupts. It's Nanami! What was he doing here? To also bully you? When you saw Nanami walking towards you, you immediately stood up and tried to walk away. Nanami grabs your wrist to stop you. And you just let it happen. You mentally prepared yourself to hear what he wanted to say.

"Y/n... I..." Nanami says nervously. (the name of someone you hate) took out her phone before you knew it to record the scene, expecting Nanami to say he didn't like you back.

"I-I-I... I like you too!!!" Nanami shouted out, not too loud but loud enough for the surrounding to hear it, to make sure that Nanami actually felt the same way. "If this is to not make people gossip about me, you can take it back." Now, because Nanami shouted out those four words people at school are interested to hear, a few students were watching you two.

"No...I... Y/n." Nanami said as he held both of your hands to turn you around and look at him. Cupping your cheeks, wiping yours tears with his thumb. "Y/n. I never had a friend this close in my life, Not to mention a girl. I was never interested in dating this whole time but you changed my mindset. When i first met you i just felt like i always want to be close with you. I didn't understand why i felt that way and now... when you confessed... I finally understand why. I like you too, Y/n... I like you too."

Everyone who was watching the scene cheered, well, almost everyone. (the name of someone you hate) and a few of Nanami's fangirls weren't happy. You can't believe this, he actually liked you back! You pinched yourself to makek sure you weren't just dreaming and Nanami chuckled at your actions. He pulled you in a hug, and finally... he did something that made the cheering louder and something that made your face heat up, he kissed you. Not too long since he's a shy boy with romantic stuff, and your glad since you also didn't want to kiss for too long since people were watching. No words could express how you feel right now, this was truly a dream come true.

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Three Years

pairing: Javi Pena x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: anxiety, reader has a child, angst if you squint, re connection of the two characters, reader has a liking of photography, out of character javi but who cares (i crave this man domestically)

a/n babies! the pedro wave recently has me worried. i dont want them to make him into eddie munson/joe quinn bc i cannot loose pedro (ive been a fan since march ‘22) and i will be heartbroken if it becomes embarrassing to stan this wonderful man. tell me he doesnt look good in that gif god damn. any narcos inaccuracies I apologize I havent watched it since the summer

summary Javi reconnects with his former fling (the ambassador’s daughter) and finds out a secret

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 6 mins 15 seconds

His palms were sweating. Maybe it was the Texas heat, or maybe for once in his life Javier Peña was actually nervous.

He sat parked on the busy street of San Antonio trying to muster up the courage to knock on your door.

2213 Ace Street, San Antonio, Texas. Y/N.

The crumpled up post it note Steve had hastily written your address down on. It was his final goodbye gift to Javi, handed over to him secretly through a handshake.

Javi figured he pulled it from a classified document. You were the ambassador to Colombia’s daughter anyways, it’s not like your address would just be laying around in the Colombian embassy.

He felt a bit out of place in the expensive neighborhood. Everyone around seemed to glare at him in his tight jeans. Maybe it was all in his head, he wasn’t sure. Anxiety seemed to overshadow his unbeatable confidence that day. He stared at the house numbers trying to figure out which one was yours.

2205, 2208… 2211

2213

Your townhome was nice. Natural brick house, a bit large for just yourself.

After all these years, you have had to move on. Three years with no contact. There was no way you were still single. And the size of this house was just living proof that you had moved on.

Three years. Javi stood with his hands on his hips, glaring down the avenue at the setting sun. When the secret relationship was exposed, it had all been swept under the rug. The facade of close friends the two of you had been putting on was figured out by your father. One of Javi’s biggest regrets was letting you leave and go back to the states. He didn’t want to admit it then, but he knew.

He was in love.

Three years. Javi couldn’t believe it.

He swallowed sharply. Three years, he had to at least see you. Be in your presence one more time, even if it was just to say a proper goodbye. The crumpled up post it returned to his pocket as he made his way up your steps.

The doorbell was an antique painted white; typical for these upscale neighborhoods. He rung it, and prayed you weren’t home.

His stomach dropped when he heard your sweet voice.

“Coming!”

The door whistfully opened. Your hair was tied back and you had an apron on over your outfit. Flour was smeared over the apron along with other various baking ingredients Javi couldn’t name.

Your expression fell from ‘I think my package I ordered is here’ to a face Javi couldn’t even explain. Confusion mixed with such an unannounced wave of hurt.

Silence and stares became the moment as your soft radio in the background ended its song and switched to a commercial.

“Hi,” Is all that he could manage to say. He let out a breathe of air he had felt like he had been holding for years.

“H-hi.” you stuttered, giving him one more glance to make sure this was real.

“What are you doing he-” you began to say, but you were interrupted.

“Mommy!” said your son, trotting in from the kitchen to find the two of you standing there. Your back stiffened as you took in a sharp breath. “The cakes, there big! Too big.” the child exclaimed, waving his hands in the air to tell the story.

“Shit, Grant!” you scolded your son, scooping the boy up in your arms and whisking him back to the kitchen.

“One second, Javier!” you called from the kitchen. His stomach seemed to turn at the use of his name. His full name.

He stood dumbfounded at your door. So you had moved on.

Javi slowly entered your house. Pictures hung on your wall; he recognized one from a date he took you on. He hated hiking, but the beautiful sights were just too good to miss in Colombia. He could see the corner of the picnic blanket in the photo, remembering the nice time together. Pictures of the boy were hung, of course. Baby photos and photos looking like they were taken yesterday of Grant were in various frames around the house.

His heart stopped when he saw the one picture sitting on your fireplace. An easy one to miss, but he spotted it.

You, himself, Steve, and Connie all smiling at the bar you used to frequent. Wouldn’t your spouse be mad about those pictures being on display?

“I see you let yourself in,” you said, entering the room once again. “I can go, I’m sorry but… you still have these?” he asked. Your eyes widened as he mentioned leaving.

“Your welcome to stay, please, have a seat if you’d like.” you offered, taking off your apron and hanging it on a hook. Javi could sense your shock. “Wouldn’t your husband be upset? I mean with our history…”

“No husband.” you said with a tight lipped smile. “Just me and Grant.”

“Your son?” Javier asked, looking down the hallway leading to your kitchen. There he saw the boy peeking out behind the wall. Once they made eye contact, he gasped and retreated the kitchen.

“How did you find me?” you asked, ignoring the question. “I… had help?” he said, trying not to throw Steve under the bus. He took the post it note out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Steve’s handwriting,” you chuckled to yourself. His distinct chicken scratch was hard to not recognize.

“I saw that you finally got that bastard,” you scoffed. “I was so relieved when I saw Escobar was killed on the news. It was strange, though. Seeing you and Steve through a screen.”

“Yeah,” Javi awkwardly laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Would you like to meet him?” you asked, biting the bullet. “Escobar?” Javi asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. “No,” you chuckled, turning around to see your snooping son again.

“C’mere,” you said sweetly, giving into the child’s interest in this stranger.

Grant came running and hit your form so hard you almost fell forwards on your knees. “Careful baby,” you chuckled, caressing his dark brown hair as he hid behind your legs.

“This is Javier,” you introduced your son to the mysterious man.

“From stories?” Grant asked, peeking out behind your legs. “Yes, baby. Like from the stories.”

Javier’s heart seemed to drop. This kid has heard stories about him before? No father around, no husband? Tell me why this kid was starting to look more and more like his mother.

He didn’t want to admit the very possible truth to himself.

“He got the bad guy?” Grant asked, now holding on to your hand. He was still very obviously weary about Javier. “Mhm,” you said, crouching down next to Grant. “Remember the TV a few weeks ago? When they caught the bad guy?” you asked your son. He looked at Javi intensively.

Your eyes met Javi’s and you felt the guilt consume you. You had to do it; even if the pit in your stomach was about to erupt out in vomit. You had to.

“He’s yours.”

“No,” Javi immediately responded. He didn’t mean to give such a negative response, he was just stuck in a haze in this new reality.

He was a father.

“Your kidding?” he asked, a hand coming to his forehead and sliding down his face. “Your the only guy I slept with in Colombia.”

“What’s his name? Full name,” he asked. “Grant Javier Peña.”

Grant looked up to his mother when she said his name. “He turned two in April,”

A silent tear rolled down Javier’s face as a hand moved to his mouth. It was early January. He had about a two and a half year old son. The little boy that had now moved to playing with action figures on the floor in front of him was his; his own flesh and blood. Half of him, half of you.

“And your father?” he anxiously asked, rubbing his hands together. “He wasn’t pleased. Doesn’t visit much anymore anyways,” you scoffed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said, trying to keep his tone steady. “I wasn’t allowed. I promise, I begged my father through my whole pregnancy. I tried letters, ways to get to Steve or Connie. Nothing. I had given up hope after his first birthday.”

“And you did this all alone?” he asked you, standing up to embrace you. His hands took yours as you shook your head yes. You bit your lip, trying your best not to cry. You wrapped your arms around his chest and felt his heartbeat. It was beating fast.

“I’m so sorry, mi amor.” he whispered in your ear. “What can I do?”

“Whatever you need to,” you said, breaking the hug. “I know it isn’t easy. It’s a hard decision. I’ve been doing it alone now for almost three years. If you don’t want to be involved, Javi, I completely understand.”

“No, no.” he said. “I… if you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

“Javi-”

“No questions. My decision, I’m here for you two. Emotionally, financially, whatever you need from me.” “That’s asking too much, just maybe give it some time to think about-”

“I’ve been thinking about you every day for three years, Y/N. I am absolutely sure about my decision.”

“Mama,” Grant asked, turning around to look at the two of you standing above him. “Play?”

Grant approached Javi cautiously, holding a G.I. Joe figurine in his hand. He offered the toy to his father. “Play?” he asked once again. Javier looked to you; you shook your head in approval.

The sight of your son and his father playing together was enough to make you happy for a lifetime.

Javier was cautious. His experience with children was basically non existent. “Who is he?” he asked in his softest voice he could think of. “Joe! This Jack, Jasmine, Kevin, Gumball and…”

Javi listened as his son named off all of his action figures along with some stuffed animals strewn across the room.

You slowly crept to your bedroom where you kept your camera hidden away. Adjusting the settings, you hid behind the couch to get a perfect angle of this moment you never wanted to forget.

Snap!

Both of the boys turned around to see you standing behind the couch. “No picture!” Grant complained, stomping his tiny fist on the ground. A smile spread to Javi’s lips as he saw his son squirm.

“I’m sorry baby. Keep playing.” you said, placing the camera on a desk in the living room.

“Mommy take pictures a lot.” Grant sighed, picking up another action figure and kept on playing.

This was definitely going on your wall.

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internet-sadass · 29 days

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Totally Medical and Professional Knotting (dogboy! Leon Kennedy x doggirl! reader)

Blurb: Of course, Leon would absolutely dote on the older officer who happened to be the only other dogkin at RPD. And, of course, he'd be more than happy to help her 'get over' her heat when she runs out of her suppressants one day.

Warnings: smut (p in v), unprotected sex, omegaverse, breeding kink, knotting, workplace sex, dogboys/girls

A/N: I guess this is my own ‘take’ on omegaverse shit so dont come for me. Also 'dogkin' refers to dogboys/doggirls, thats just the term I've personally always used to describe them.

On his first day at the Raccoon City Police Department, Leon had fully been expecting to be the sole dogkin there. It wasn't like dogkin typically went into police work, nor were they really made welcome there. However, when he was introduced to you, the more senior officer whom he’d be shadowing, any anxieties about being bullied or rejected due to his species went out the window. You too were a dogkin, with a well-groomed, fluffy blonde tail and perked-up ears. Not to mention, canine features aside, you were certainly very pretty and gave Leon a sweet smile when the two of you were introduced.

“Nice to meet you, Leon.” You’d said, shaking his hand. Your voice sounded so warm and kind to him, and the mellow, floral scent of your perfume mixed with the natural pheromones omegas gave off was intoxicating to him. His tail had shyly wagged in response to you introducing yourself and telling him, in that gentle voice of yours, that he needn’t be afraid of asking ‘stupid’ questions because there was no such thing.

From that instant, the young rookie had been pretty much enamoured with you, following around (literally) like a lost puppy. Even when the two of you went out on patrol or to investigations and were under stress, you never lost your temper with him, never raised your voice. Other officers could be quite cruel to Leon, berating him for making mistakes, but never you. Even if you had criticism to give, it was always delivered in such a calm manner. Aside from being a fellow dogkin, you were also a good few years older than Leon, and had a slightly maternal nature towards him, which he didn’t mind at all.

All these factors, your kindness, your patience, your protectiveness over the rookie, and (of course) those plush curves of yours led Leon to develop a crush on you. When he got home after a shift, more often than not, he’d have another ‘task’ to deal with, though not one you knowingly set him. He’d rut into his hand, whining as he squeezed his knot, imagining how good it would be to claim you as his omega, give you however many litters of pups you wanted, and feel your slick coating his cock. He was aware that you were older and probably had many eager, more capable older alphas coming on to you, but somehow, Leon believed you’d pick him. After all, you hadn't been claimed yet, you hadn't had any pups yet (you’d disclosed this to him at one point), and you’d certainly complimented him enough times to indicate (in his eyes) that you were interested in him.

Leon was desperate to tell you, confess ALL of these feelings and desires to you, but he knew it was absolutely not professional to go up to his superior, who’d he’d known for just around two months now, and tell her he wanted to claim her as his omega, give her as many pups as she wanted, and take her out on a romantic date to that fancy restaurant she’d mentioned several times. He didn't want to risk losing his job or losing the respect you clearly had for him. There was lingering doubt in the back of his mind about whether or not he’d read those signals from you correctly. Maybe you were just doing your job and coaching the rookie, and there was nothing romantic or sexual about how you acted towards him. Leon desperately wished that wasn't the case and prayed that you’d make the first move. He was an alpha, sure, and technically it was his job to make the first move, but he wanted the all-clear from you before he made a fool of himself.

Luckily for Leon, that day did indeed come, just not in the way he expected.

The moment he set foot into the office the two of you shared, he could sense something was off. And then the scent hit him and he knew. Before he could even open his mouth to say anything, you’d got up from your desk, strode across the room, and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Leon-” You started, struggling to even speak when you were this close to him, the distinct heavy scent of a young alpha assaulting your senses. Deep in your belly, the cramps intensified in response to his scent. Sweat was already breaking out across your forehead and you felt another wave of nausea wash over you. You cursed yourself for not just taking the damn day off until your emergency suppressant prescription (hopefully) came in that afternoon.

Leon looked like he was about to say something so you raised your hand, silencing him in an instant.

“I am aware that you're aware of my current…state. However, I’ll have my medication by around three p.m., so we shan’t have to deal with this…issue for too long.” It took every ounce of your willpower to keep your shit together and stay professional and in control.

Leon was a very handsome young man at the best of times, and you certainly weren’t immune to his charm, as much as you tried to be for professionalism’s sake, but right now his good looks were not helping. He was perfect: young, very fertile (you could smell it so clearly that day), and had never claimed another omega. And God his scent! That musky masculine smell, indicative of a young alpha, mixed with his minty body wash. You felt your insides twist, your cunt growing even more slick as it prepared itself to be penetrated.

No , you told your reproductive system, not here and not now. We just have to wait until three, then it'll be fine. Just a few hours.

Already, in those few moments you'd paused to try and get a grip on yourself, Leon's expression and demeanour had changed. The look in his eyes was very clear, but you could tell he was holding back, desperately, as always, trying to be good. It’d be so easy for him to pounce on you, pin you down, and sort out your ‘current state’ (as you’d so politely termed it) himself. It’d be easy because you wouldn’t resist. At this point, you’d accept anything to make the nausea, cramps, dizziness, and the ever-rising temperature of your body go away.

Get a grip, for God’s sake! The last remnants of your rational, less-canine side mentally shook you by the shoulders, snapping you out of your daydreams. You cleared your throat.

"I can arrange for you to work under someone else for today. I don't want to hinder your ability to do your job or make you uncomfortable all because I forgot to refill my prescription." You continued, half-hoping he’d say yes, and you would be left alone to deal with your heat yourself. At least its intensity would lessen slightly if you weren't trapped in your small office with the literal embodiment of the ideal mate for your kind.

"N-no, it's fine. It'll be fine." Leon stuttered out, managing a watery smile as he dug his nails into his palms. He could feel his whole body getting warm, those familiar feelings of tension and arousal stirring in his lower regions as his body slowly descended into a rut. The two of you went to your desks on opposite sides of the small room, both willing yourselves to ignore the roar of your natural instincts and just focus on getting through the day.

***

The scent of your heat was like a miasma in your office, utterly inescapable and hanging thickly in the air. Leon could smell the slick wetting the crotch of your panties. Even with nothing to stimulate you, you were dripping already. He took note of how you kept crossing and uncrossing your legs, those delicious thick thighs pressing together in an effort to relieve some of that endless tension inside you as you read over case files. He also couldn't focus on the files he was supposed to review whilst the pair of you waited to be called out onto an investigation. All the words on the page just blurred together and his mind would instead entertain him with visions of you under him, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pummelled into you, saying his name over and over, begging him to claim you as his own and give you litter after litter of pups.

It eventually got too much. Leon stood up from his desk and walked over to you. You didn't even turn to look up at him despite sensing his presence next to your desk. In your current state, which had already worsened, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that just looking at him would send you spiralling and make you lose the fragile self-control you had over yourself right then.

"Um...Officer?" He started, fidgeting with his fingers as he looked down at you. He noticed the way you were trembling, your tail swishing in frustration as you repeatedly shifted in your seat , unable to sit still.

Leon had to choose his words carefully here. The last thing he wanted to do was anger you, especially when you were so clearly on edge.

"I...please let me help you. You’re literally shaking, I…I know omegas can get really sick and pass out if they don’t get some relief during a heat. Especially if they’ve been on suppressants for a long time.”

The younger officer had obviously been doing research if he knew that the main danger of omegas using suppressants was that, if they suddenly stopped using them, they were at a higher risk of going into shock from the sudden onset of intense heat.

“And…I mean, I really like you, I’d be happy to help you. I don't want to see you suffering like you are right now.” He continued, stuttering and stumbling over his words as he essentially asked permission to fuck you.

Would it really be so bad to let him fuck you? Would it really be such a crime to let him do what he so obviously wanted so you could get some relief from the agonising combination of hot flushes, nausea, and constantly growing tension between your thighs?

The feral part of your brain, the part which was ruled by canine instincts, said yes. Leon was right, this was the sickest you’d felt during a heat since you’d started suppressants five years ago, and there were still another five hours at least until your prescription would maybe be ready to be picked up. Passing out or going into shock because of the intensity of your heat was the last thing you needed, especially as you knew the higher-ups at RPD would use it against you, declare you as unfit for your job, use it as an argument for why dogkin are ‘useless’ for the force to employ. At least if you got this heat over with now (even if that meant fucking the rookie who was under your charge), you wouldn't be passing out or going into shock. You could just get on with your work and still have a job by the end of your shift.

"Leon." You said finally, with a sigh, rubbing the sweat off your forehead. His floppy ears perked up and his tail gave the subtlest of movements. "Go lock the door."

You got up from your seat, wincing as more slick leaked out of you during the motion of getting up from your desk.

"You have to promise me, absolutely promise me , that you will pull out before you knot me. We're doing this just to get me through this heat so we can both focus on work and so I don’t get sick. Not to have a litter or signify that we are coupled now, understood?" Your tone was dead serious, almost cold, as you grasped the rookie by the shoulder to emphasise your point.

“This is a totally medical, professional arrangement. Nothing more. Do I make myself clear, Leon?”

Disappointed though he was that you weren’t inviting him to claim you, Leon nodded eagerly, his excitement coming out in his blonde tail swishing back and forth. Lifting his chin slightly with your fingers, you leant forward to kiss him. His lips stayed frozen against yours for a few seconds, confused and a little startled, before he reciprocated. The movement of his lips over yours was hesitant and sloppy. You wondered how many people he’d kissed before. Maybe only one or two, judging by his technique. It didn't matter though, because the feeling of his curious hands roaming over your well-starched uniform shirt, groping at the squishy flesh of your breasts before heading down to squeeze at your ass had you moaning into his mouth. Any touch at this point was welcome and brought about a taste of relief.

You could feel the firm press of his erection against you, even through the rough fabric of his slacks. It was hot and throbbed in time with his quickened heartbeat. At that point, you were very much aware you’d sent the poor young man into a rut, especially when he arched into your touch as you palmed him, whining and grinding himself against your hand. It’d be cruel to keep the poor young alpha waiting any longer, so you pulled back from him and hastily undid your slacks, yanking them and your panties down below your ass. Wasting no time, you bent over the desk, pressing your chest against the cool wood and arched your back, spreading your legs slightly, causing strings of slick to break between your thighs as you parted them. Your wonderfully fluffy and silky tail curled off to the side, which was the universal dogkin signal that an omega was ready to be mated with.

Leon froze for a few seconds, staring intensely at how you were presenting yourself to him, his eyes catching on your pink cunt, the plump lips glistening in the harsh light of the office. This was like something out of his fantasies, and he caught himself swelling with pride that you were presenting yourself to him. Not some other older, stronger alpha. Him. with jittery hands, he undid his belt, shucking his trousers and boxers down his thighs. Freed from the suffocating confines of his boxers, Leon’s length bobbed as he lined himself up, the tip shiny with the precum which was dribbling down the shaft. The flared head brushed against your lips as Leon tried to figure out what to do and where to put his hands. you moaned in response, pushing back against him, forcing the tip inside your deliciously hot and wet pussy. The young alpha shuddered in pleasure, placing his hands on the desk either side of you before rolling his hips, sinking his length into you, feeling your body eagerly accept him, sucking him in. The noise you made in response to this action was nothing short of pornographic; as you let out a long wail of pleasure.

Finally, instinct took over, and Leon began fucking you just as any young alpha who'd never claimed an omega before would: his thrusts were quick, short, and shallow, his nails digging into the desk as pounded into you. His breath was hot against the side of your face, his cock heavy and hard inside you as it stretched you out, driving in and out of you in an imperfect rhythm. In your current state, you couldn’t care less about technique. All you cared about was that delicious stretch, the feeling of being full, the sensation of him hitting up against that deep, soft part of your cunt that made you see stars. Already, the sickness of your heat had died down, instead being replaced with utter pleasure as your rational brain shut off and was replaced by the dumb canine one which only cared about being bred and having your hole stuffed with cum. You did, however, have enough sense left in your head and opted to cover your mouth with your hand, fearing that your salacious moans and whimpers would be heard by every member of staff currently in the building. Your efforts were in vain, as even if they didn't hear you, they'd probably hear Leon, who was making no effort to keep his voice down.

"P-please let me give you pups! I'd be so so good, such a good alpha for you." He whined in your ear, kissing and laving at your neck with his tongue, clearly desperate to mark you, to claim you as his own. There was nothing Leon wanted at that moment more than to breed you, make sure it's was his pups that filled your womb. His knot swelled in response to his desire, getting dangerously close to becoming stuck inside you already. You were so tight and wet around him, your body practically begging him to press himself all the way into you, to pound you until he came and filled your pretty little pussy up with seed. You were wet as anything too, the slick coating his thighs and balls, and your sloppy cunt made a distinct squelch with every roll of his hips.

You didn't answer his pleas, only giving a muffled moan when he rutted his head right up against the soft ring of your cervix. Already, the little bit of precum he’d released inside you had made your heat calm down to a far more tolerable level. However, it was now being replaced by another instinctual drive: to have your cunt filled until it overflowed, until you were well and truly bred, until there was zero chance of you not having a litter with Leon. Any thoughts or concerns about what getting pregnant would mean in terms of your career had vanished, as your canine brain had entirely taken over.

"Please!" He whined again, almost wailing as he continued to rut into you feverishly, desperately trying to bring himself to completion so he could shoot his seed into you before you could reject his proposal to get you pregnant and so claim you as his. He gave another pathetic moan as his pace increased, his lean hips desperately pumping, colliding with the fat of your ass. His hands moved from scratching up the wooden desk to gripping your hips to get more leverage to rail you even harder and (hopefully) manage to shove his knot into you before you could pull away from him and escape.

You let out another wail of utter pleasure, followed by whines and yelps as Leon kept on bullying his cock into you, the head thudding against your innermost point to an almost painful degree. You’d never been fucked like this before, not even by other alphas. Perhaps it was because you were actually in heat whilst having sex, which was something you’d never done before due to the risk of pregnancy and not finding an alpha you liked enough to want to do something so intimate with.

Giving in, you couldn't hold back any longer.

“L-Leon.” You panted out, turning your head slightly to look over your shoulder at him.

He was quite the sight; his face was flushed, his blonde hair dishevelled and slightly sweaty, sticking to his forehead, his eyes clouded with lust. You felt lucky to have snagged such a handsome younger alpha to be the one to claim you.

His gaze shifted from where his hands clutching onto your hips to your face.

“Yeah?” Leon’s response was breathless, as he didn't cease thrusting into you for a second.

“Just…take me. Please. I want…ah, fuck!” Clearly, what you were saying was going down well with the younger man as he didn't even let you finish, instead picking up his pace. No more words were needed from you.

You arched your back more, spreading your legs further apart so Leon could get even deeper into you. Taking the hint, he leaned over you, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders, and gripped the collar of your shirt in his mouth to ensure you didn't try to wiggle your way out from under him if you changed your mind. With two sharp rolls of his hips, he managed to shove his swollen knot inside you, causing you to cry out. He was so deep inside you, filling you to the brim, and the stretch of his knot inside you stung. You could feel it throbbing and pulsing with need.

With his cock now well and truly stuck inside you (with no hope of sliding out, not with how tightly your cunt was gripping into him and how engorged his knot was) Leon shifted his hips slightly, grinding them against your ass, trying to coax his climax to come. It didn't take much before he practically exploded inside you, his cock pulsing as spurt after spurt of his thick seed pumped into you, filling your womb with its warmth as he emptied his full balls into you. You groaned against the table, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head as you felt delicious relief wash over you, a deep primal satisfaction.

Leon let go of the collar of your shirt before mumbling in your ear as the last dribbles of his semen left his slit.

"M'gonna give you...ah...so many litters. As many as you want.”

He was feeling his own primal satisfaction of claiming an omega and, he hoped, fathering a litter of strong, healthy pups.

The pair of you stayed stuck in the same position, bent over your desk, Leon’s chest pressed against your shoulder blades as you both waited for Leon’s knot to shrink enough for you to be able to release yourself. In his post-coital bliss, Leon's tail wagged lazily, giving away his simple feelings of satisfaction and pleasure that he'd got to (hopefully) knock up and claim his superior as his omega. You knew it was highly likely that he had, considering that he was a young, healthy, virile dogkin and you were in the peak of an intense heat. Right now, as Leon hummed against your neck, kissing at it whilst his cum settled in your womb, the idea of having a litter (or two, maybe even three) didn't seem all that unattractive.

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maximoffhimbo · 9 months

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Birthday club business

Summary: your 22nd birthday was planned to be a nice night in by yourself - your coworkers have other ideas.

Warnings: male reader / blowjobs / ‘corruption’/ innocent-ish reader / strip clubs

It was your birthday, another year of sitting at a desk 5 days a week waiting for the 2 days of freedom. Luckily your birthday was on a Friday. Unluckily your coworkers were typical ‘lads’.

“Sam? Can you get those files sent to the cfo please?” Your boss, Sarah, said drearily. These meeting were held every Friday to wrap up the week and every Friday they were boring. Your coworkers didn’t listen to her, of course they didn’t. In their eyes she was less than them due to her gender. Half of the guys sitting around you were on their phones playing candy crush or some shit.

“Before I forget, y/n? Happy birthday.” A chorus of cheers and oddly deep noises came from the men around you. “y/n mate, why didn’t you tell us it was your birthday?” Charlie, one of the most laddish guys said, holding tightly on to your shoulders from behind. “Oh I just don’t really celebrate that’s all” you said quietly. Of course your plan for the night was simple: home, pyjamas, takeout, movie, bed by 11. In your eyes a perfect night in. Within minutes the guys were discussing where to take you for your birthday. You couldn’t think of anything worse, yet they were extremely passionate about getting you to hook up with a ‘chick’ as they say.

That’s how you ended up here. A strip club in a not-so-great part of town. You were sat in the middle of 9 other guys, it felt like a bad porno if you were being honest with yourself. “She’s fine as fuck” one guy said. “Dude y/n deserves the pick of the litter.” The way these guys were talking honestly made you sick to your stomach. “Come on y/n pick!” You visibly cringed at Charlie’s need for you to pick a girl. You looked around the dark red club. Music was shattering your ear drums whilst the lights were vaporising your eyes. It was all too overwhelming, you could barely make of your hands in front of your face for gods sake.

The club was full of guys waving money into the dancers faces. It wasn’t exactly where you’d imagined yourself for your 22nd birthday. “Okay fine, I’ll sort you out.” Charlie stood from the table waving over a server, she looked to be no older than 18. “Hey gorgeous, who’s the best slut in this place?” You cringed and shrunk down in your seat feeling ashamed for being around these guys. “Charlie don’t say that.” You said slightly above a whisper. Charlie kicked you under the table and continued talking to the waitress.

Before you knew it you were following her to a private dance room. You wanted to run, to apologise for your friend yet your mind was completely frozen. Arriving at a room the girl, who you heards name was Crystal (you doubted that was her real name) glared at you. You smiled tightly at her before she walked off. You opened the door and were met with a black room with red trim and decorations. “I’m going to be murdered” you said under your breath.

You took a seat on the large black leather sofa, shuffling nervously, praying that this dancer didn’t turn up. It took around 2 minutes of sitting in silence for the door to open. A girl walked in, long brown hair and beautiful green eyes. She sauntered over to you, thinking you were like all the other guys she danced for. Instead you moved away, offering her a hand, “I’m y/n.” She chuckled “And I’m scarlet.” She whispered, attempting to move closer to you. You tensed up and she noticed. “What can I do for you handsome?” She said gently as she moved away slightly as to not scare you. “I-I dont know, my coworkers brought me here for my birthday. I didn’t really…want to come.” Her eyes softened, you were such a cutie. She moved on to the small circular stage in the middle of the room, adjusting her revealing red sequin outfit. “I’ll just dance for you, okay?” She smirked as she turned on a small music player. Lana Del Rey’s ‘Art Deco’ came on as she began to move seductively around the poll. You watched, amazed. You hadn’t wanted to come here but this girl, this woman was something otherworldly. Her hips moved in time with the slow beat. Her hands raked her body whilst she sauntered around the poll. For a while you forgot this was a strip club, until the slowly began to peel her tight, blood red corset-top off. The buttons snapped at the front so removing it was easy. Her fingers made quick work of it, long svelte fingers worked the fabric, like a painter to canvas. Her breasts were freed.

She moved around the poll, her nipples pebbled, she eyed you with a hunger. Like an animal to prey. Her high black heels clicked against the floor with every step, making your heart beat quicken. She bit her lip as she bent over and grabbed the poll, maintaining eye contact with you. She swaying her ass rhythmically, her eyes holding a mischievous glint. Your heartbeat quickened as it moved throughout your body. The thrum in your core hammered. Your soft cock growing with every sway of her hips. You hadn’t even noticed the state of yourself, far too enthralled with the woman’s performance. She however did notice. She stood up slowly, moving to the front of the stage, her eyes still on you. Her thumbs found themselves within the waistband of her panties. Slowly and effortlessly she pulled them down her porcelain thighs, biting her lip as she moved her eyes over your face.

You were different to her usual customer. She was used to men talking to her the entire time, even going as far as to beg her for sex. But you, you just sat there, admiring her. You didn’t look like you wanted to pounce on her, you looked gentle, tame. Once her panties dropped she turned around, showing off her perfect ass. “You like that pretty boy?” Your breath caught in your throat as you nodded, “you’re v-very pretty” you stuttered out. She smirked. She’d never felt the need to touch one of her customers, let alone ‘corrupt’ them. Yet she wanted to please you. She watched as you shuffled uncomfortably, your cock straining painfully against your trousers. Scarlet stepped off the stage slowly, sauntering over to you. She stood above you looking down. “Take your trousers off” she said slightly above a whisper. “W-what?” You said, eyes wide. “You heard me. Trousers off.” You stood up slowly, eyeing her with confusion. Your hand moved to your belt as you slowly unbuckled it. She watched you hungrily. Your hands shook as you pulled down your zipper and finally your trousers. She moved back slightly, admiring the slight wet patch on your grey boxers. From there everything went into slow motion for you. She knelt before you kissing your sore bulge. “W-wait scarlet, this can’t be allowed,” scarlet chuckled looking up at you through her lashes. It definitely wasn’t allowed but ‘scarlet’ got what she wanted.

She pulled your boxers down letting your cock spring free. She gasped, your cocks tip was pink and swollen, drooling with precum. “Oh baby.” Scarlet said eyeing you up and down. She smirked and placed a kiss on your shaft “you know, if I’m going to do this you might as well know my real name.” You groaned quietly nodding to whatever she said. “It’s wanda.”

Wanda had been sucking your cock for what felt like an eternity. She pulled away, mascara running down her cheeks, a long thick strand of saliva keeping you both attached. She leant down, spreading your legs slightly. “You know, y/n…” She kisses your shaft gently. “…I never let this happen” she moved her kisses upwards towards your tip. You groaned, butterflies spilling from your chest into your stomach. Wanda began making out with your cock head, slowly and sensually, keeping eye contact with you. Your head fell back on the sofa. “Fuck Wanda, fuck I’m gonna cum.” As if cold water was poured on her she stood up, smirking. “I’m not done with you yet baby boy.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda mcu #wanda imagine #wanda my beloved #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #mommy wanda #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff smut #Wanda maximoff x male reader #male reader

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captainpulisic · 1 year

Text

woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side - c. pulisic

authors note : dedicated to all my girlies who went against gender norms and dont know how to cook for shit. you are SEEN and you are LOVED <3 gif credits to owner word count : 1.8 k

christian had always hated mornings. waking him up was the worst thing you could do. don't get him wrong, he had always prided himself with being punctual and motivated for hours spent out on the pitch but unscheduled mornings were his own time. after long days and endless weeks of training, hiding away in his sleep was the only chance he got to truly rest. no expectations to meet, no obligations to fulfill. back before he had gotten his own place, every teammate turned roommate was tasked with the pointless battle of trying to get him out of bed. it was futile trying to shake him awake or yelling at him to get a start on his day, they’d just be met with snores or a shoe lazily thrown at them.

if only any of those roommates could see him these days, they’d have a stroke.

the current christian, the one waking up at ungodly hours, was not the one they had come to be weary around. he was different, he was happy. he wasn’t cursing the person waking him up anymore. how could he, when it was you waking him up?

you being an early bird, tried to always wake up at 6 am. a jam packed schedule and uni had you itching to start your days earlier than others, wanting to be out the door by 8 am, and not a moment later. yet, you made sure to always set a few moments aside for the grumpy, sleeping beauty on the other side of the bed. you’d trace the curves on his face, a feather like touch sweeping his furrowed brows and over his lips. sometimes seeing him so peaceful, so beautiful- you couldn't help your urges to kiss him silly.

and that was christians favorite way to wake up. the trail of kisses you’d leave on him was intoxicating. he felt them everywhere. his lips, cheek, jaw, neck and chest. and when he’d hear your soft ‘good morning’, it was over for him. no, he didn’t hate mornings anymore. he loved them and he wished he could always wake up this early, if this was the way it would happen.

a typical morning would have the rays of shine having your eyes flutter open. the light illuminates the room, casting a pretty glow on christians sleeping face. it gives you a few seconds to fully wake up, a peaceful prelude before your hectic day begins. the cold london air is still present outside of your little bubble. you don’t even feel it, christians insane body warmth keeping you as toasty as possible. with his arm secured around your waist and your body pulled flush against his, you’re sure you’d survive antarctica in this position.

and while christian might say he despises mornings, you absolutely loved them. and its become your mission to make him love them, too. thus, you’ve created a little game of seeing how many kisses it takes to get him awake and happy. you pepper them all over his face and neck, watching him stir a little. you start this little show by a gentle kiss on each cheek, making sure to leave one on his nose. soon after, you reach his chest. there, gentle kisses to his collarbones and wet brushes where his neck meets his shoulders. they grow a little faster and frustrated as you realize they aren’t working, trying to lure him out of his sleep in the sweetest way possible.

it took you a week of this charade to realize that he cheats. that he usually wakes up after the first kiss to his nose and cheek, but lays perfectly still. that while his eyes remain shut and face unchanged, he’s praying that your touches don’t stop. he thinks he’s so clever, not realizing you figured out the moment he’s awake. you’ve figured out what areas to kiss, that causes his breathing to stagger. the slight tint in his cheeks betrays him every single time, alerting you that he's conscious.

lucky for both of you, this is a win-win situation. he likes being kissed awake by you and you like being the one to kiss him all the time. therefore, you’ll gladly keep this pretense up, pretending to desperately cover him in soft kisses until he’s ‘finally awake’.

usually, after you shower him with affection with one final kiss on his lips, he’ll decide to be nice and miraculously wake up (as if on cue). other times, he’ll be a bit more stubborn and keep up his sleeping beauty act. on those days, you’re practically straddling him and messily kissing him. neither of you wanting to be the first to fold. damn right strong headed, the both of you.

yet, usually, you end up winning with your secret move. the final act that has him waving the white flag and you claiming victory once again. after kisses on neck and cheeks and lips and tattooed chests, you drag your lips to his ear. capturing his earlobe, you tug it gently in between your teeth.

and that just about does it for christian. game over, no argument. he lets out a sigh and his eyes flutter open.

“morning, handsome.”

he feigns grogginess, eyes awake and tired. the bastard even has the audacity to fake a yawn. returning a kiss to your forehead, he slides his hands to rest on your hips. a smile plays on his lips, “morning, pretty girl.”

yeah, christian loves these types of mornings with you.

but today was not one of those mornings. he had woken up to an empty space and cold sheets. with tired eyes and still in a sleepy haze, he unlocks his phone to see it’s already 10:15 am. his horrible mood is at the point of returning because you’d usually be in class by this hour. yet,his frown only grows deeper when he remembers it was supposed to be a peaceful sunday morning between the two of you. no class, no training, no plans.

he could go back to sleep, it’s tempting. he could roll over right now and hide his body further into the blankets. he could do it, but he doesn’t. it just doesn’t seem worth it if you’re not there to keep him warm. hoping to find you somewhere in the house and coax you back into bed, he gets up with a huff.

he checks the living room, knowing you retreat there to read when you want to be alone. nothing. he checks the backyard, the living room. nothing, again. this house is too fucking big, why does he need all these rooms when they’re just here to make it harder for him to find you?

its when he hears the pots and pans clanking that he nearly trips over himself rushing to get to the kitchen. he doesn’t care how pathetic he seems. frankly, waking up without you and spending these 5 minutes without you, he’s decided they’re the worst 5 minutes he’s ever lived.

finally, reaching the kitchen, his feet and heart stop at the sight of you. there you were, back turned to him and in his shirt from the night before. he can’t see your face but he hears your smile in the way you were humming along to whatever song is stuck in your head. it’s very endearing to him the way you’re too caught up in your mind that you don’t even notice the eggs burning on the stove. no, making sure the kettle was filled with water seemed more important to supervise. he doesn’t blame you, not really. back when you had first moved in with him, you wanted to make a celebratory pasta for dinner. lets just say, a pot of water caught on fire and some pieces of clothes earned scorch marks. to this day, neither of you can explain how that happened. it was just mutually agreed upon that christian would be the one to do the cooking for the both of you.

when he fears that the smoke detector will go off any second, he lets his presence be known by stepping up to turn the stove off. your head whips around, finally noticing the burnt state of the eggs. you let out a shy laugh, hiding your face behind your hands.

“i’m sorry, i know i’m banned from using the stove” you rambled, flushed and starting to regret the romantic idea of bringing him breakfast in bed. “it’s just that you were asleep and you looked so peaceful and pretty- you alway look pretty. and i wanted to do something nice for you and have food ready for when you woke up and uber eats would’ve taken too long and eggs seemed easy. why aren’t eggs easier to make?”

he steps in front of you, taking your hands from your face and kissing each one. his voice is still raspy from sleep, “mornin’ baby.”

“hi, good morning.” you kiss his lips in return. shaking your head once more, “and I really am sorry.”

“it’s okay, we can make something else.”

“wait! I did make you something else.” he sees your eyes brighten, “I also made you toast, no one can mess that up! it’s just bread!”

without wasting a second, you turn to the toaster that’s on the other side of the island counter. you freeze when you see the black smoke emitting out of it. as if on cue, two slices of charred bread pop out. yeah, you both should’ve seen that one coming.

christian, bless his soul, just smiles and says ‘yum’. he tries, he really does to scrape off some of the darker bits of it. its hopeless. he lathers some butter on it and doesn’t break his smile when he takes a bite of it. you notice how he tries not to wince. you can see him struggle to chew it and swallow, you’d be laughing at his horrible poker face if your heart wasn’t about to burst over how sweet he is.

he notices your awestruck expression, “what?”

“nothing,” you muse. wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into him, “I just love you, ‘s all.”

“i love you, too.” you feel him squeeze you a little tighter, “and i’ll finish this toast but no amount of love will make me eat those eggs.”

your laugh is music to his ears and he feels a sense of pride for being the cause of it. he feels a kiss on his exposed arm, “sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”

“it’s okay,” he kisses the top of your head. hoping to make you laugh some more, “you made me a 5 star meal, so i’ll let it slide just this once.”

yeah, mornings might just be christians favorite part of the day now.

#christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic fluff

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road-kill-eater · 4 months

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what do you think of people making their own tonitrui characters? I love your work, the faces are super nice to look at, teeth and all

i dont mind at all! tonitrui are very close to my heart as theyre by far my oldest original species/headworld, but ive yet to actually do anything with them and dont really have much motivation to do so. the tonitrui i primarily draw are ocs from another story entirely which is fundamentally a human story, but i vastly prefer drawing the weird goats over humans.

i suppose this is also as good a time as any to "officially" describe tonitrui.

there are some rules that come with them since they are designed to inhabit a specific setting and play a certain role within their world. but at the same time i dont really care much, and have always enjoyed seeing other peoples takes on the species in the past, even if they break some rules

theyre a primarily carnivorous species which is on average 2 feet taller than the average human, ranging between 6-8 feet in height. this great size, along with their diet has forced the southern portion of their population to rely heavily upon fishing and animal agriculture to support a substantial population/military, and to eschew many of the superfluous aspects of their historical culture. as a result tonitrui are generally very utilitarian, what few festivals and art they have is generally related to bloodsports and ritual combat. they are a race strongly influenced by the pressures surrounding them, this primarily being other equally sapient but different races which they compete with for land and resources. unlike other races they have no allies, and either conquer or destroy their foes, however their colonial and expansionist tendencies can't keep up with a dwindling population, subseptibility to disease, civil war, corruption, and general hubris.

as for religion, monarchist tonitrui have a historical theistic framework that they have mostly abandoned, for good reason. many generations prior (to the general timeline) their corresponding creator god (each race was created by an individual god, the many civilizations acting as a living chess game, this is not known to the mortals below, they dont know they exist to better the social reputation of another entity entirely) walked among them as a god king. this was of course seen as blatant foul play by the fellow players so they locked it in that mortal form, and being confronted by mortality drove it mad. the specifics of whether or not the god king killed itself, or was murdered by his own subjects is widely disputed, but the impact of that betrayal has turned much of the kingdom off theism entirely. luck and chance are the spirits that tonitrui pray to now, even if ever since, their civilization has begun to crumble from within and without. their every enterprise fails, their wars of conquest fold back in on their own territory, plague strikes them endlessly.

the northern population is technically part of the southern kingdom, however their way of life (more nomadic, hunter-gatherer based) has typically set them apart. there is still free trade and travel between them, and they still pay taxes and obey military conscription, however there is increasing resistance to these, and governmental authority weakens as the northern population becomes more preoccupied with their own struggles.

in terms of morphology, tonitrui have two sets of flat incisors much like a horse, prominent canines which can occassionally stick out between their lips, and canine-like carnassials and molars. their faces are rather stiff for the most part and they primarily emote through their eyes, the corners of their mouths, their ears, and the tilt and posture of their big heads. they can just barely lift their top lip, and the muscles that control snarling and snout wrinkling in mammals are quite reduced or nonexistent in tonitrui, they compensate for this by opening their jaws very wide as an aggressive signal, and sometimes slamming their lower jaw shut to clack their teeth, but the latter is super rude, its basically a death threat.

their horns are primarily for display purposes, with a huge amount of variety that distinguishes individuals and family lines. generally their horns are relatively small when compared to those of existing ungulates, and particularly large horns are seen as ungainly and may be trimmed down in order to keep appearances and prevent them from being used against them in combat. young tonitrui naturally have the desire to ram their nubby horns against things, much to their parents exasperation, and everything breakable has to be well hidden in the household. though this is considered a childish and unrefined form of combat by the mainstream population, some more isolated villages still hold contests of strength where one must push their opponent past a line with only their horns.

their feet have no distinct nails and the toes are progressively keratinized until they are quite hard at the very tip, useful for gripping a variety of surfaces. in appearance they sort of resemble a blend of claws and hooves, clooves if you will.

tonitrui are generally covered in a short, peach fuzz fur that thickens around their head, neck and down the length of their spines, and this is generally accompanied by a dorsal stripe of darker fur and lighter patterning on their chest and bellies. their patterning is usually very basic, darkened extremities tend to be more common in northern populations, and piebaldism pops up a lot in the south. their colors range from white to gray to black, to tan to gold to brown. northern tonitrui generally have shorter, broader snouts, smaller ears, and a mane that covers the entire circumference of their neck rather than just the top ridge. however the two populations have mixed to the point that these traits can be found across their entire range.

tonitrui always get their tails docked as infants, and if it isnt done by their families for some reason, individuals will often have the procedure done later in life to prevent the associated social rejection. tails are considered an unnecessary extravagance and liability, especially given how long and thin they are by nature. in a duel or battle they are easily broken, or used to pull an enemy off balance. back during the formation of their kingdom and the conquering of atomized clans into one entity, soldiers would often cut the tails off the locals and whip them with them as punishment for crimes real and imagined, so docking became a practice of integration, and preemptively avoided such humiliation. and whatever practice is compulsory in the military quickly becomes unofficially expected in the rest of the population.

in terms of gender norms, tonitrui arent beholden to anything resembling the human concept. they arent even mammals, and while they have the two typical sexes, they have far less sexual dimorphism than humans, and both sexes have the capacity to feed their young via specialized glands in their throats. females are on average smaller and slighter than males, but this remains the primary difference, and as a result social norms and gender roles are far reduced in tonitrui culture. personal wealth does tend to accumulate with the matriarch of a family because they are more likely not to die in battle. historically females have never been conscripted in the military, although there was no rule against them signing up until relatively recently, due to the powers that be realizing that males are far less crucial to the longevity of a society, especially one with a dwindling population.

#tonitrui

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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months

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would you be comfortable sharing your bg3 ocs with us? i LOVE hearing and seeing other peoples ocs so much it inspires me to make them too

u always write reader personalities so amazing so ik ur ocs are just as good <3

WAH. YES. THANK U FOR ASKING. a lot of my ocs start out as fun self-inserts and then become... Something else. for bg3 in particular i normally play as my insert so they have the same face HEKJSDKJ. but they are ocs and they look diff in my brain i just dont care to change the face

oh my good GOD this is so long im so sorry. i guess this is my intro post for them now.thank u for asking me.. i love you... humbly presenting my little guys

CW FOR IMPLICATIONS OF INCEST (?) sort of in nyx's story. its complicated!! other than that just canon typical angst + drug use.

i have two main charas i consider more oc than insert. THE FIRST ONE IS MY BELOVED DARLING GIRLTHING SOULIKHA

goes by soul in camp, mid/late twenties, she/they pronoun haver, true neutral alignment, istj + 5w4

motifs ; black oleander, darkness and shadow, bones but not blood / decay, teals and purples and blues.

close with marisol, lae'zel and wyll. thinks astarion is a little sad and gets annoyed at mystra trying to demand death of gale.

she is a cleric of kelemvor and sacrificial survivor of a myrkul death cult. she escaped nearly dying at the age of 7 bc kelemvor saved her from near death.

she is not from baldurs gate!! she is from the outskirts of omorath but after escaping she lives on the streets.

the second time kelemvor comes to get her (nearly died in an alley) she becomes a cleric and returns to the city. joins the tower of skulls in omorath and does most of her work taking care of the diseased and guiding people in the fugue plane.

a Doomguide and part of a doom clergy.

she is originally darker skinned / tan but turns grey using her powers. when she blushes she becomes her original color lol

she ends up closer to baldurs gate on pilgrimage. she meets marisol (lambs oc) her best friend there.

she is a cleric of kelemvor, the god or judge of death. she tends to wear like a plague doctor sort of uniform and is very attached to a necklace she has that she prays over!! in general she prefers to be covered because she normally is response for helping the diseased as well as the deceased.

always wearing gloves for the same reason ^ special gloves that she has with her even after the kidnapping on the ship.

her personality is very blunt 😭and straightforward but never mean. she is just super direct and a little clueless about social cues... VERY HONEST LOL.

her main story arc is around her parents! like i mentioned she is a cleric of kelemvor but she spent her childhood in a death cult. in act one she hears rumor of a tiefling couple who worshipped myrkul being seen kidnapped on the towers to moonrise. in act two, her major scene, you have the choice on whether or not to kill or rescue her parents.

soulikha as a character puts her duty as a cleric above all else, even herself. she never expresses her feelings, never complains, just does as she believes is of expected to her. it gives her identity. up until this point, it's very rare to see her break down. this is the first scene where she makes a decision for herself

she also believes part of her job is assuring the people suffering die with the dignity and honor they deserve. part of this is because of her upbringing.

she also believes admantly in people dying when they are supposed to. as a cleric of kelemvor with particular favor of her god, she can hear whispers and regrets of death. the shadowfell lands are hard on her.

her main romance partner is karlach

her main romance with karlach has to do with touch and intimacy.

soulikha normally has her face covered and her body so if she were an origin and romance companion chara they'd be surrounding them but in her story she is dating karlach

karlach is soulikhas first love. they are tragic to me. soulikha is constantly telling karlach it's not her time and they often talk about death. she has a line to karlach:

"i will be there. when your soul burns brightest in the fugue plane, i will lead you. till the end of your life and in mine. my hand will find you. you will know its me."

she is shorter than karlach a bit. their whole romance is soulikha saying over and over that she knows karlach is bound to die, and comforting her through that.

but after the actual end of the game, soulikha cries for the very first time and begs karlach to live. it's the first time she ever says the words "i want you to live.) very heartbreaking

their ending is opening. ultimately soulikha wants to stay with karlach. they promise each other to live. the ending varies depending on other stuff but YEAH.

her bad ending is letting herself become myrkuls new chosen so karlach can have her heart back. fucking AWFUL ending gkdjsd theyre so sad.

OKAY. NEXT. IS MY OC NYX SORRY ABOUT THIS MOUTAIN OF TEXT.

this is nyx! no last name, he/him pronouns preferred, any fine. neutral evil allignment, late twenties. entp + 7w8

close with astarion + minthara. fond of jaehira. thinks wyll is fun and likes karlach. neutral to shadowheart and halsin.

nyx is not from baldurs gate either, explicitly from the city of calimshan, in manshaka. son of a common whore, born in a pleasure house.

tiefling with the blood graz'zt. this is relevant later. fdkjsdk.

learns music from the musicians in the pleasure house. naturally gifted. starts composing his own music at ten when one of this mothers regular customers gifts him a cli' lyre, enchanted with magic

has a complicated relationship with his mother. his mother is a prostitute but also very addicted to drugs. she wasn't motherly and often made advances on him when he grew up into puberty. his only family. when she was coming down the high, he would play her music to fall asleep.

practiced a lot on his own, other musicians taught him other instruments. very talented. most of his music and songs were about his one true love, roxana

roxana was another child of the house. they grew up together. she wasn't particularly talented but she was soft, kind, and beautiful. they both knew she would end up staying in the house, but nyx did try to protect her from customers when they were both underage.

roxana is full blooded human. she has a tattoo of roses down her spine that nyx dedicated one of his songs too and got matching trellis tattoos for. his most popular song.

his composition reached far and wide and he was offered many times to leave the pleasure house to perform. but he loved roxana and she often begged to say with him - so he never went. for her he'd do pretty much anything.

spent most of their lives together as lovers. first kiss at 13, lost their virginity to each other at 16/17, when they are in their early 20's nyx saves up to propose.

nyx is betrayed by roxana, though nyx by default does not care if Rrxana were to take lovers.

because of nyx’s upbringing and roxana’s work, all nyx had ever asked Roxana for was to keep no secrets between them

(growing up, roxana was naturally meek and often was in dangerous situations. Both because of this and because of his mothers commentary after she’d invited him for sex (“let’s keep this a secret between us,”). nyx had asked Roxana to never keep things from him, if she could.)

roxana ultimately chooses another man over nyx, one she’d kept a secret. she’d told nyx that she couldn’t be with him anymore. That she wanted more from life, and that she would go with her new lover to see greater sights.

“I loved her. Beautiful like a rosebed. I was a fool, of course. Only a fool forgets that the first rule to pick roses is dethorning them, lest they make you bleed.”

nyx sets off for college the same night. packs his belongings, says by to the pleasure house. his mother kisses on the cheek. he doesn't tell roxana about this

after that he commits to a life of debauchery at the college of swords. many flings and makes more music but never gets tied down despite peoples offers and efforts.

very charismatic in general and good at behaving in slimy and manipulative ways fhfksd. acts in self-interest.

very weak to soft and gentle women (hung up on his ex.... rip)

never ever mentions roxana by name even as an origin character. a lot of his story is about getting him to open up. he has a confrontation with his ex in act 3. his story is similar to astarion

in act one he hears rumor of a beautiful prostitute in the city who works the cities leaders and follows this. his main decision is meeting roxana again and deciding whether or not to forgive or save her

(you learn through the course of his story that roxana was never particularly good or honest to him, though it's not easy to figure out. the best ending to for him to save her but not take her back, the worst is dying for he)

his primary love interest is lae'zel !!

they have a silly and funny relationship at first. it starts as a sex thing but their tent is next to each other. lae'zel likes calling him a jester but loves his voice too.

he likes that she's very different from the women he dates. she's very harsh towards him but he also trusts she would never lie to him. he comforts her through the situation with vlaaktih and she in his story helps him realize that not everyone is out to betray him. he wants to love her and does.

he is SO affectionate towards her act three. she is constantly pissed she has romantic feelings for local emo clown

lae'zel having no propensity for manipulation and also being very honest is really refreshing for nyx. they have a minor age gap fdkfskjd

at the end of the story - nyx encourages lae'zel to travel and save their people. he makes a life for them in the city and writes hundreds of songs about her in her absence. they raise a gith child together

I HAVE MORE TO SAY BUT THIS IS PAINFULLY LONG. SHOWS YOU THIS ANDRUNS AWAY. PLEASE ASK ME QUESITONS IF U LIKE I LOVE ANSWERING Q'S FOR THEM. THANK U

#return to sender #oc: nyx #oc: soulikha #incest mention #KIND OF ITS COMPLIATED!!! BUT SAFETYT

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