#all that to say. lmao he really is turning into the master of masters
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[video ID: a clip from a cutscene where Xigbar says "Aww, all this altruism is giving me the warm and fuzzies. So then," before it cuts off. end ID]
i swear he has a southern accent in this bit. ik its just because ive spent most of my life in the South so hearing any middle aged man speak in a casual manner reminds me of every southern baptist preacher ive ever heard but like
"all this altruism is givin' me the warm 'n' fuzzies. so thean"
like he could've said "bless your heart" and that wouldve felt correct
#im not personally a fan of super literal headcanons/theories about xigbar ''turning into'' the master of masters#being a vessel for him or being a past version of him. etc. even them being related#imo thats not as interesting as like. luxu emulating him in a completely mundane way. either intentionally or unintentionally#for any number of reasons#all that to say. lmao he really is turning into the master of masters#also all this to say that thinking about xigbar doing accents makes me . well i shant say.#kh#xigbar#blakeposts#xigbar scholarship tag#xigbar meme tag
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I'm fighting the urge to fancast El's entire family (I enjoy fancasting too much), but the timeline of their uncle's births is wild. Queen Syndrel had to have been having at least one baby per year — and still found time to lead King Uthgrael's stag hunts??? Anyway she and Uthgrael were probably in their fifties when they died. That family bit the dust young.
Our reference point is that Belaur, the oldest of their 7 sons, was 29 in 224 DR. The birth order of the princes is: Belaur, Elthaun, Cauln, Elthryn, Othglas, Felodar, and Nrymm. We don't know when Syndrel died, but it was shortly after Nrymm was born; he was raised by the women of the court and likely hadn't set foot outside Athalgard by the time Uthgrael died. Speaking of which, Uthgrael died battling orcs in 216. So the timeline is like —
195 — Belaur born
196 — Elthaun born
197 — Cauln born
198 — Elthryn born (this would make him 14 when Elminster was born)
199 — Othglas born
200 — Felodar born [date of death unknown; left Athalantar "years" before Uthgrael's death; thought to be in Calimshin in 224]
201 — Nrymm born; Syndrel dies shortly thereafter
216 — Uthgrael dies; the Warring Princes of Athalantar begin their fight for the throne
[Cauln killed in a spellduel sometime in this period]
218 — Belaur officially lays claim to the throne; Elthaun hunted down in Calimshan later that year; Othglas likely slain in Dalniir (it was at least after this point)
220 — Nrymm disappears, presumed a hostage of the mage-lords or dead
224 — Elthryn slain in the attack on Heldon
240 — Belaur slain by Elminster
#OOC / HOLLY.#reference#I know Uthgrael and Syndrel were supposed to be a great king and queen#[Helm at least thought very highly of them — and was probably in love with Syndrel lmao]#but they couldn't have been very good parents if their kids turned out like this#Belaur was a monster and a tyrant who requires trigger warnings to discuss#Elthaun was thoroughly dishonest; a womanizer; and a master of intrigue. he likely arranged Cauln's death#Cauln was 'a sneaking suspicious sort' and a snake. comparatively not that bad#Elthryn had no sins but he got the hell out of Dodge as soon as he possibly could. renounced everything and fucked off to Heldon#family man. stand up guy. well respected. died too soon.#Othglas was a poisoner who killed 'any who so much as spoke a word aloud against him'#I think the fact that he ran off to become a priest of Malar says something too#Felodar trades in slaves; drugs; and dark magic. loves gold and gems above all else#[probably survived by bank rolling Belaur from afar and keeping to the intrigues of Calimshan]#also Felodar had to have left home before he was 16 if his exploits brought trade to Athalantar that pleased Uthgrael#[Helm posits that Uthgrael didn't know about his sons immoral dealings only the above board ones. who can say really]#not to much to say about Nrymm. considered a 'thin frail sullen little brat' [tbf he had to have been 15 last Helm saw him]#but tbh it seems like Uthgrael neglected him after Syndrel's death#'after Queen Syndrel went to her grave he fell to grimness an' waited for a chance to die'#[it's possible Syndrel died birthing Nrymm or that the birth weakened her health which led to soon death#and Uthgrael on some level blamed Nrymm for her loss. grief is never logical]#in summary all of the princes were either evil or fucked off at the first opportunity. sometimes both
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say it (m.s)
master list
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: VERY heavy smut and strong language
preview: Matt has been stressed out all day because of filming. his brothers have been on his last nerve. when he gets home, he takes out his frustration on you and he doesn't think you're taking him seriously. so he makes you take him seriously.
a/n: I literally imagine Matt take out his frustration on me 24/7. like yes give it to me lmao.
it was 10 p.m at night. you were waiting for Matt to get home. he was out filming a car video with his brothers Nick and Chris, for their youtube channel. you sat on your bed reaching down at the laundry basket beneath your one foot dangling on the side of the bed. you started folding your clothes neatly as you watched tv.
it’s already been 2 hours since he left at like 8 ish. you yawn still folding your clothes. you always waited for him to get home before falling asleep. you always wanted to make sure he got home safely.
suddenly, you hear the front door opening. you stopped everything you were doing, standing up about to head to the door but you freeze at the loud slam. “i’m home” you hear him yell out from behind the door. he was angry. you open the door and face him. “hey Matt…” you say hesitantly. all he does is look at you giving you a nod before walking to the fridge to grab a root beer. he twists the cap open, then taking a sip. all you do is stare at him before speaking, “how did filming go?” you ask stupidly. Matt then looks at you with a blank stare, “how do you think it went?” he says. “okay so i assume it didn’t go as well.” you say walking up closer to him but he turns away sitting on the couch.
“what happened?” you say turning to look at him crouched forward sipping his drink. “nothing it’s fucking stupid.” he responds clenching the plastic bottle. “well it’s clearly bothering you.” you lean back onto the counter saying. “so it’s not-.” Matt interrupts, “y/n just mind your business.” you knew how he gets when he’s upset. he turned cold and sometimes said stuff that really upset you. “i’m sorry. that was rude of me.” he says placing the bottle on the coffee table. he turns his head looking at you, “it really wasn’t a big deal. i’m just irritated by the fact i can’t ever get a word in without being interrupted.” he says with clear frustration. “Chris won’t ever shut his big mouth. the stupidest shit always comes out and Nick entertains it. every time i try to speak, Chris does it on purpose i swear, he just blurts out something we won’t even be talking about in the moment.” you let out a laugh but shortly stop as Matt darts his eyes at you seriously. “sorry” you mumble out. “see not a big deal since you think its so funny.” he says with a scoff.
you roll your eyes as you speak, “Matt don’t even start. i already said sorry.” his eyes were piercing through yours making you clear your throat. “okay Matt continue please.” you say. “no. you don’t care.” he responds looking away getting on his phone. you groan and shake your head. “fine be like that. i’m going to bed.” before you head to your bedroom, you pour yourself a cup of water and then walk towards the bedroom door.
Matt puts his phone down next to him, shaking his head letting out a scoff behind his smirk. “stop” he sternly says looking at you. you stop in your tracks as you turn around and face him. he stays quiet looking at you up and down before speaking, “put the water down” he says. “Matt i’m going to-.” you let out but he interrupts. “put it down.” with a dominant tone. you put down the water on the counter. you turn to look back at him but you see him walk out onto the balcony. you follow shortly after and join him outside. he was standing there leaned against the railing staring at the city lights. "why are we out here?" you ask confused. he keeps his eyes on the view not saying anything. you let out a soft sigh as you mimic his stance. “Matt-.” you were about to say but he gives you a glare. “you’ll find out.” he responds with a blank face.
eventually he looks away and sits on the arm chair that decorates the balcony. you turn to look at him as you can't help but notice his dark eyes. he leans back into the chair and spreads his legs slightly. he licks his lips raising his hand onto his lap, patting it, "come here" he demands. you nod your head as you walk over to him. you were going to sit on his lap but he sits up stopping you. "on your knees." your eyes widen at the command. "w-what?” you stutter out, “out here on the balcony?” he looks at you with the same glare from earlier. "do it." you nod hesitantly eventually kneeling down slowly. you gulp as you look up at him with your doe eyes. he stays silent as he brings his hands to unbutton his pants not breaking eye contact. he slightly brings down his pants as he pulls out his hard cock into his hand, stroking it.
"you're going to help me. aren't you?" he says. you bring yourself slightly up as you replace his hand on his cock with yours. he brings himself forward a bit. you stroke his dick slowly looking down at it. your hand looked small wrapped around it. slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip, moving with a normal pace. not too slow and not too fast. you use both of your hands to stroke the remainder of his cock that couldn't fit in your mouth. he lifts his shirt up getting it away from your face. he then uses his other hand placing it on top of your head. he then pushes your head down, repeatedly bobbing it, making you tear up from how big his cock is. you take your hand and tap him to signal you can't handle the size hitting the back of your throat. he lets out a small low laugh as he grips your hair continuing to bob your head up and down. "who's laughing now?" he says. you gag slightly every time your head goes down. more tears streamed down your face with your eyes feeling cloudy. "look up at me." he says.
you look up weakly at him as you keep eye contact. he groans at the sight. "what? you can't take it no more?" he asks slowing down the pace he had you at. you couldn't say anything but look into his eyes that were filled with dominance. he releases your head from his grip, pushing you off him softly. you stay on your knees letting out a soft cough as he wipes your drooling mouth. he leans forward grabbing your hands as he pulls you up. once you stood up slowly he lets go of your hands still sitting there. "take these off." he says tugging your pajama pants lightly. you look into his eyes, pulling down your pants, along with your panties, letting them hit the ground. you step out from the soft fabric and laced garment standing there nervously.
you were scared the apartments in front of you could see you guys through their windows. your next door neighbors could also potentially catch you both in the act if they step outside their own balconies to peak. Matt grabs you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap. he immediately pulls you in by your face, attaching his lips with yours. you could feel his hard dick twitch under your entrance as you kiss back eagerly. the kiss was filled with anticipation. he runs his hands down the sides of your body as he lands on your hips.
he keeps them there gripping a little hard as he starts moving you back and forth against his cock, grinding on it not breaking the kiss. you felt yourself getting more wet after each kiss and each hip movement. he then pushes his tongue inside of your mouth as you fight for dominance. of course, he won. you tangle your fingers in his hair as you buck your hips, matching the pace of his hand movements. Matt then pulls away not wasting time attaching them onto your free nipple. you throw your head back slightly by his wet mouth sucking harshly on your hard nip. still grinding on him, he then stops you, also pulling away from your tit as he raises you up a bit. Matt takes his cock into his hand as he slips it into your wet core causing you to slip out a loud whimper. he darts his eyes onto yours as he brings up one hand, covering your mouth. "you don't want to be caught don't you?" he whispers.
you shake your head as he whispers, "okay then keep it down." he places his hands back onto your waist, with you slowly starting to ride him. you bite your bottom lip trying to fight back the noises. his grip gets tighter as you speed up your pace. he pushes you down a bit more making sure every inch of his cock sits inside of you. you wrap your arms around him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. "you enjoy this huh?" he whispers in your ear. you try to make out words but you failed or else moans would fly out. "say it." he says firmly. "y-yes" you finally let out. "then prove it." he says breathlessly. you lean back slightly as your hands rest on his knees behind you. you roll your hips back and forth making sure you were pressed down all the way, having him deep inside. he throws his head back biting his bottom lip hard. you throw your head back as well, gulping down your moans.
"you move your hips so perfectly." he says bringing his head back up straight. he bites his lip again as he watches you continue to ride him. "just like that." he says. you wrap your arms around him, hiding your face into his neck again, still keeping your pace. "f-fuck Matt. your dick feels so good inside of me." you moan in his ear. he smirks as he stops your movement. you sit back up confused.
he leans back into the chair, pulling you up slightly as he starts to take control. the sudden thrusts make you moan out by surprise. "shhh.. just take this dick." he whispers. but you were really struggling keeping it in. the more he heard you fall apart, the more he sped up. he covers your mouth as he pounds harder into you, bruising your pussy. you bite the inside of his hand from the feeling of pain and pleasure. your eyes clouded up again as tears rolled down your cheeks. it hurt so good.
you look up and see your reflection in the window. you saw your tits bounce up and down from his thrusts. the clapping noise that was being made with your guys bodies coming together, started to get louder. you and Matt both look at each other when you hear someone open their sliding door. you widen your eyes as he continues to thrust. his hand was still on your mouth so you tap him signaling to stop. all he does is shake his head.
you grip onto his shoulders with your eyes rolling back feeling your stomach in a knot, indicating you were about to cum. you could feel Matt’s thrust getting slightly tamer; you could tell he was close. after a few more thrusts, you finally released all over his cock almost falling because of how weak you felt. “o-oh fuck” Matt whispers out at your actions. he then pulls you off his twitching cock as he cums on his stomach. you collapse onto his chest weakly as you both lay there out of breath.
after you both caught up with your breathing, you guys continue staying quiet, knowing your neighbor is outside on their balcony. but thankfully, after a bit they went back inside. you and Matt look at each other and let out a sigh of relief at the same time.
a/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated!
#Spotify#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets imagines#sturniolo triplets smut#smut#sturniolo imagine#imagine#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo angst#the sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo smut
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I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
#paul atredies x reader#paul atreides imagine#paul atreides x reader#paul atreides x you#paul atreides#dune x reader#dune x you#timothee chalamet x you#paul atredies smut#paul atreides oneshot#dune spoilers#dune imagine#dune 2024#timothee fanfic#timothee x reader#timothee imagine#timothee chalamet#timothee chamalet#chalamet#dune fandom#dune fanfiction#paul atreides fanfic
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filthy: l.hamilton.
warning: 18+ mdni, extreme sexual content, slight dom!lewis, mating press, dirty talk, unprotected p in v.
notes: this gif set sent me and @hopefulromantic1 down a sinful path. our dark thoughts collided. Also I didn’t watch the episode lmao - a small section of this - paragraph 3 - is purely based on the gifs I’ve seen 😂. either way ennjjooyy 😘🤭.
I’m thinking about how you can’t get over just how buff Lewis got over the winter break. You love the way he just fills his t-shirts more, the way his thighs stretch the fabric of his pants - just how every inch of him seems to be bulging.
Just watching him do mundane things has you all hot and bothered. Like you’re in the living room watching his episode of DTS and you’re squirming in your seat as if he’s not somewhere in the house.
It’s the weirdest thing that sets you off. He’s by the track in his white tee, talking to the kids from Mission44 and he moves to clap his hands before swinging his arms. holy fuck. you’re creaming for your man.
You move so quickly off the sofa, you startle your sleepy boy Roscoe. You throw an apology to him before running to the security system and search the camera footage to see where he is.
He’s outside, fixing up the trampoline for the kids. You run to the backyard and for a moment you stop and just watch him. His arms flexing as he tightens the bolts on the legs.
When you catch his eye, he smiles at you. So bright and wide, his eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart beats faster causing you to blush.
“What’s up baby?” He asks you as he stands to his full height.
You don’t answer and in that moment Lewis sees the glint in your eye and he immediately knows where your heart is at. It makes him smirk.
“I have a problem.” You say as you tip-toe toward him.
“Tell me love.” He says, wiping his hands before taking your hand pulling you closer before he settles his large palms on your waist as yours wrap around his neck and you play with the strands at the back of his head.
“I see you on the show and you’re all buff and shit, muscles spilling out of your shirt and then I see you out here doing work.”
“Did that turn you on baby?” He licks his lips as he trails his hands down to your ass and cups your cheeks.
“Yeah.” You let out a breathless sigh as he massages your flesh.
“How do you want me to fix it sweetheart?”
You give an all knowing smile and next thing you know, he’s picking you up in his arms and running back into the house. You don’t even go all the way to the master bedroom.
He bulldozes his way into the guest bedroom downstairs and chucks you onto the bed like you weigh nothing before pulling at your clothes and barely stepping out of his before he’s back in between your legs.
“You’re so fucking wet. Did I really do that to you sweet girl?” He smiles as he stretches his knees apart - pushing yours further apart too.
“Yes!” You gasp as you arch forward trying to press your cunt against this dick. “I’m also ovulating so that could be it too.” You confess.
Lewis grunts at your words as he presses into you. Once your eyes roll, he doesn’t hold back. He’s fucking you so good that you’re screaming and trying to run away from him. He’s deep in your guts as you struggle for words.
His shoulders and chest are folding you and pressing into you as you struggle for air.
“It’s t- too much baby.” You hiccup as his skin slaps against the back of thighs. His mark was all over your body despite the way that he has you folded. The contact bites at your skin from the ferocity of his thrusts.
He’s fucking you into the bed and crushing you until you’re gasping for air and he laughs at you - mocking you for how much you said you could take him but you’re clearly having trouble doing so.
You keep trying to run away.
You try to beg but he’s not having it, the laughter is gone from his voice - he’s serious again. Your legs are back on his shoulders and he’s got you in a mating press as he fucks you harder and harder into the bed.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going huh?” He hisses in your ear as he thrusts until you. “I’m fixing your problem aren’t I? This is what you wanted. Why you running?” He taunts you.
You cry louder as tears trail down your cheeks and settle into the crooks of your neck.
“This is what you wanted. Fucking take it!” He growls. “Take this fucking dick, it’s yours.”
ru’s letters 💌: I’m ending it here. Let your imagination run 😝😌
tags: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @lewisinlace @emjayewrites @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @felicity-x0 @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy
#mauvecherie writes#lewis hamilton x black reader#lewis hamilton fanfiction#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton blurb#lewis hamilton one shot#lh#sir lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton
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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership
And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”
Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle
Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...
Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?
Alastor: sureeeeee
And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit
and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”
And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)
I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3
A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.
Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.
Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)
Master Lists:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.
The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.
"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."
Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.
"Sure." she teased.
"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.
"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."
Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.
It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.
"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.
Y/n just shrugged.
"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."
Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.
"Sure."
They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.
Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.
He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.
Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.
"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"
Y/n shrugged.
"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."
Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.
"What a shame."
Y/n laughed lightly.
"I don't think so. It works well enough."
"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."
"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"
Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.
"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.
"Oh?" Y/n asked.
She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.
"Yep."
"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.
"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."
"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."
"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."
She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.
"Are you proposing we work together?"
"You're the one who said it, not me."
Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.
"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"
"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."
Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.
"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."
Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.
"Deal."
Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.
As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.
It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.
They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.
"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.
Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.
"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."
"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.
Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.
"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."
"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.
"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."
"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."
Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.
"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.
"Oh this is totally a date."
"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.
She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.
"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.
"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."
"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.
"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."
Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.
"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."
Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.
"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.
"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.
"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"
"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.
Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.
"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"
"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."
"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."
Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.
"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"
"Blue eyes?"
"Umm... yeah."
"Yep, that was me."
"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."
Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.
The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.
They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.
Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.
That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.
Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.
Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.
At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.
"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Y/n."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."
Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.
"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"
Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.
"What, you fucking want some too?"
Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.
Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.
"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.
"He what?"
"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."
Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.
"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.
At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.
"Well, he's definitely dead."
Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.
"He deserved it."
Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.
"Can you walk me home?"
Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.
"Of course, my dear."
They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.
No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.
"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"
"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."
"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."
"I... It's about Y/n."
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"
"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."
"Spill."
"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."
"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."
"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"
"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"
"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."
"I thought your dad was dead?"
"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."
"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"
"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."
"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"
"Just something, okay?"
"I have got to quiz her about this."
"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."
"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"
"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."
"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"
"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.
"What are you, twelve?"
"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"
She sighed.
"Alastor, you have a crush on her."
A beat.
"I do not."
"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."
"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.
This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.
"Are you sure?"
"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."
"Fuck."
Mimzy laughed.
"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."
"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."
"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."
Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.
Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.
When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.
Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.
Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.
"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."
"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."
"The way... he ran?"
"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.
Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.
"Didn't you see?" she asked again.
"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."
"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."
She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.
"Alastor."
Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.
He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.
There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.
They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.
"I-"
"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Are you going to try to kill me again?"
"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."
Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.
"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."
"We will not be swingers."
Y/n laughed.
"Just had to make that clear."
"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"
----
Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2
#x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor#x reader fics#hazbin alastor#x reader one shot#x reader writer#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor imagines#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#requested#request#requests#requested fic#request one shot#request open#request filled#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#alastor fanfiction#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#radio demon#radio demon x reader#human!alastor
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PAC: What Greek Mythology love story would you and your FS be?
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[pile 1 to 3- left to right]
Just came out of a bone-crushing healing and shadow work period for my Kundalini Awakening going on right now T-T In an attempt to raise my spirits, I created my very first FS reading-
pile 1:
General vibe of your love story with your FS-
This is the movie pile. I see a full-blown movie arc in my mind’s eye for your love story with your FS. I see an opening at- you guys meeting, the middle act- your separation and individual trials, and the final act- the happy reunion! OBVIOUSLY, there's nuance to how all of this will unfold for each of y’all reading since it's real life we're talking about, but your story with your FS is the closest thing to a happily-ever-after if I've ever seen one.
It's like when y’all first met, y’all were young, or maybe some of y’all didn't know how to handle a relationship or didn't have the resources in the 3D (think money or a place of your own, something like that) to make this relationship happen? Maybe it was long distance for a looong time? And so, for whatever reason (along said lines) y’all had to let each other go or y’all couldn't be together. It's like y’all were shown a grand possibility to be together, and BOOM it was taken away.
Then you guys enter a separation period right after, and the length of this period will differ for everybody reading, anywhere between months to a couple of years. After having worked HARD on yourselves ON YOUR OWN to overcome your personal issues, traumas, and suffering, you guys come together. The key to really mastering your obstacles is in the day to day. You will have set routines to tackle your obstacles, such as say you’ve got anxiety or a dys-regulated nervous system, so maybe you'll always have a stress relief meditation scheduled in no matter how your day looks. So on and so forth, fill in the details of this period as it best suits your life. But the common denominator, I feel like, is that y’all really fight to be with one another. The love is so deep here, and that's what motivates each of you to overcome your personal hurdles, yk? And THEN, when it happens, and y’all reunite, it's sooo beautiful. It's like you guys will build a brand new life together where you can put the past behind and finally enjoy the fruits of your labor! Also, I see you guys growing and blossoming over time with your FS upon reunion 🥺✨.
So… which Greek myth sums up YOUR love story with your FS the best?
drum roll
It’s the story of Cupid and Psyche!
From what I’ve read about this story, Cupid and Psyche couldn’t immediately be together after they met. Cupid could only meet Psyche at night AND she’s not even allowed to see him! T-T This was part of what Psyche has to overcome- the challenges put forth by Aphrodite just because the goddess was jealous of Psyche. And poor Cupid had self-esteem issues from what I gather lmao. He didn't even feel worthy to show his mortal wife what he REALLY looked like (which, by the way, is GORGEOUS af?! Like who hurt you, Cupid?) They eventually overcome their odds and reunite. Eventually, Jupiter blesses Psyche with immortality, which allows them to live forever in their new life happily ever after. Ahhh… beautiful.
I encourage you to read the original story (or watch it on YT, do whatever you like :p) to pick up on any additional messages! Buuut that’s all I have for you lovely folks today.
Love and loads of light, sweet pea :)
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pile 2:
General vibe of your love story with your FS-
Reeeeally strongly coming in right off the bat, I feel like both you AND your FS will be turning a brand new leaf in your lives. Think a new job for one or both of you. A major relocation for one or both of you. A major relationship ending for one or both of you. You catch the drift, right?
It feels like y’all will be closing out a cycle and entering into a new era, so to speak. And in this new era, I sense that you'll keep mostly to yourself and aren't all that interested in anybody because you're still processing this BIG shift you just went through and you're reflecting a lot, drawing on your wisdom, staying in your lane. Ngl, you do feel vulnerable and raw too, which is probably why you seem to keep to yourself mostly during the time you might run into your FS. I sense the same from their end too.
You know what this is? Mutual healing. Your future spouse finds you at a time when you're in the dead center of healing and vice versa. You will both be the catalysts to each other's healing! How cool is that? And after y’all find stability in your journey together especially after navigating healing for so long… I see y’all being so comfortable and content and peaceful with one another 🥺 this makes my heart full!! Stop it! Ahhhhhh <3 The vibes are immaculate, it's giving 'comrades in the battlefield' kinda energy. Your FS will stick with you no matter what, literally. And that's the kind of loyalty many people only dream about. Love it 🤌🏾. Y’all will love each other's pain away 🥺😩. Ugh my heart can't take it anymore!
So… which Greek myth sums up YOUR love story with your FS the best?
drum roll
It’s the story of Odysseus and Penelope!
Now in the story of Odysseus and Penelope, both of them undergo significant changes and face major disruptions in their lives. Odysseus’s long journey home from the Trojan War and Penelope’s long period of waiting and dealing with suitors at home. BUT even in Odysseus's absence, Penelope remains faithful and focused on her own survival and household. Similarly, Odysseus endures many trials and tribulations. Both characters are found in a state of self-reflection in the face of personal challenges (in my humble opinion of course). Their reunion symbolizes mutual healing… both of our characters here show incredible loyalty and perseverance despite being apart for 20 years!
-Side note: on a completely different note, your story low key kinda reminds me of the story of James and Claire from Outlander >< shoutout to the Outlander fans hehehehe, I'm waiting for the 9th season to come out SO BAD ughhhh lmao-
I encourage you to read the original story (or watch it on YT, do whatever you like :p) to pick up on any additional messages for yourself! Annnnd that’s all I have for you lovely folks today.
Love and loads of light, sweet pea :)
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pile 3:
General vibe of your love story with your FS-
Ah.. my Pile number 3s.. you guys are afraid to love.. aren't you? You might be blocked off from your heart and as a result won’t be open to true reciprocal and healthy love for a WHILE. But then I see that the divine will enter your life in some way and shake you up in a big way to show you how you've been standing in your own way and keeping love at a distance.. I'm seeing the tower card in my third eye as I say this even though it hasn't come out for you today.
Ah, this is like a personal journey I see you taking before your FS comes in and swoops you off your pretty lil feet 🙃 tehe! Your energy seems quite mental to me. You love living in your head, thinking, planning, analyzing, and just knowing things. But this came at the grave cost of not being connected to your heart.. and when the divine intervenes and helps you connect to your heart again is when your FS comes in flying ✨.
Side note: Ooh.. suddenly I hear Lavender Haze by our queen Taylor Swift? Take that only if it resonates for you :]
But yea, I see you struggling and feeling out of control when all of this happens because you're used to being in control of things usually but now all of this has you a bit overwhelmed I'm ngl.. but you end up navigating this perfectly well! Yay! I'm glad haha 😅🫂👏🏾
So… which Greek myth sums up YOUR love story with your FS the best?
drum roll
The story of Pygmalion and Galatea!
Yup, just like how Pygmalion accidentally manifested Galatea, you kinda accidentally manifest your future spouse too (low key reeeal funny ngl). Because Pygmalion refused to love anybody, he sculpted out his perfect woman and fell in love with his creation. His deep affections attract the attention of you guessed it Aphrodite herself, and she decides to ahem intervene. She brings Galatea to life, which represents the transformation of Pygmalion's mental fixation (and emotional disconnection) TO emotional CONNECTION. How perfectly beautiful. Ugh. Love your story, Pile 3. Gosh.. who doesn't love their FS simply falling into their laps? Haha
I encourage you to read the original story (or watch it on YT, do whatever you like :p) to pick up on any additional messages! Soooo that’s all I have for you lovely folks today.
Love and loads of light, sweet pea :)
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#tarot#tarotblr#tarot blog#tarotcommunity#tarot community#tarot witch#divination#astrology community#pac reading#pac tarot#PAC#greek gods#cupid and psyche#odysseus and penelope#aphrodite#pygmalion and galatea#spirituality#tarot cards#fs reading#free tarot reading love#pick a card romance
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Helooo, I’m back with more Jing yuan food. Imagine a Jing yuan that turned into a cat because some assassin accidentally mixed up the poisons with a transformation potion. So you have to take care of him since well…ur his partner. If I was taking care of cat yuan, I’d tie a red ribbon on him just like his human form. Cat yuan food fur u. Bai <33
Lmao you're keeping my mediocre writing spirit up oh well. Grammatical mistakes obv.
"Honey.. where are you?" You searched through your house. Getting slightly concerned as Jing Yuan was nowhere to be found. He could be in his office due to an emergency but he took a day off today.
"Meow."
That startled you. Did he bring home a cat?
You opened the bedroom door to be greeted by a white cat standing ontop of an unconscious body.
"Jing Yuan!" You rushed forward thinking that the person was Jing Yuan but upon getting closer and closer, your brows furrowed and your steps hatled.
It was a man dressed in black, not to mention he had a weapon. You crouched near it, trying to see the face underneath. There's a chance it could be him.
"Meow!" The cat jumped on you. Occupying your plam by jumping on it. It was so befuddling.
Something told you that this feline was your husband. The suspicion rose when you realise that cats don't have an eye covered by their hair. "Jing Yuan?" You hoped that this cat could understand you and he actually nodded with a meow.
Well whatever that was, you called the Knights and the man caught was an assassin. It took a day but you connected the dots and confirmed that the white feline was indeed your husband.
Cat Jing Yuan.. oh boy. Im going to keep it short because I have to sleep.
After coming to the realisation you had no choice but take care of your now cat husband. But for Jing Yuan..
This was a vacation he never knew he needed.
Getting to lay in your wife's lap all day, getting hugs, kisses and pats and having to not worry about work. Sign him up.
"Meow." The cat purred feeling your fingers glide through his fur.
"You're really enjoying this, huh? The assassin that mixed the chemical is being held in the shackling prison."
Honestly, he loves that stupid assassin now for giving him a free vacation. Maybe, he can ask the dude for one more....
Fu Xuan and Yanqing.
"Lady Y/N, do you know where General Jing Yuan is?" The blonde child asked, in search of his master.
"..."
"He needs to get back to work. Everyone's asking where he is." The Master Diviner grumbled, distressed by the intense questioning she has to answer.
"He... umm." You glanced at the cat who shook his head no. "So, Jing Yuan was poisoned by an assassin in his sleep, he's in no state of working."
"What?!" Both of them shouted in unison.
"General is bed ridden?" Yanqing was concerned.
"..That's not good." Fu Xuan sighed. Her frustration having turned into somewhat sympathy. "I need to keep my omnisa activated every now and then."
"I'll tell the other generals about that situation." She added.
Watching this in your arms, Jing Yuan felt a little guilty. This was becoming his guilty pleasure at this rate.
"Oh Lady Y/N, did you get a new cat?" Yanqing changed the topic.
"Yes."
"..Strange. It almost looks like him." The Lady Diviner was catching on.
Now to the thing you were talking about.
"..Jing Yuan, would you mind a red collar?" You asked the fluffy feline occupying your lap. You had to ask because it would look cute on him but did he want it as well?
"Meow." He agreed after a minute.
You giddily put the collar and ofcourse had to take a picture. Maybe you can collage the photo of human him and cat him and use it as phone wallpaper.
Lingsha. Idk why but I had to do it.
"Hmm.." The lady giggled. "Almost amusing to see the Loufu general be reduced to a mere cat."
"How long do you think the postion lasts, Lady Lingsha?"
"It's been 2 days, you say. The potion's effect lasts for a week so 5 more days remain until the Loufu General becomes himself." The Cauldron Master answered with an amused look.
Fu Xuan.. Again.
"So it was you, General." Fu Xual glared at the cat. Jing Yuan hid behind your figure.
"I apologise for lying, Lady Fu."
She sighed. "I suppose there's nothing to be done. How more until he turns back?"
"4 more days."
The pink haired woman shook her head in defeat.
I know it makes no sense.
People were beggining to question you as well. It was a bit overwhelming at times. But luckily, your cat husband was there to be your plushie.
Things he doesn't like as a cat.
Now being pampered is fine and all but it started to get boring when he had nothing to do but laze around. He also couldn't embrace you or keep you in his arms and lap anymore (obviously). It was.. irritating to say the least.
Yep I'm not happy with this. I'll update this if I can.
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Does Quinn do elf on a shelf with Bug and Cub?
girl, you can bet on dad!quinn taking his role as elf on the shelf co-coordinator with the utmost seriousness. like, truly — he’ll be treating this like it’s a full-time job with a performance review at the end lmao
“Okay,” he mutters, crouching on the floor and studying the tiny elf with an intensity that could rival his game tape analysis. “What if we set up a zip line? Between the bookshelf and the tree? They’d think that’s cool, right?”
You try to stifle your laugh, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “A zip line? You realise you’re talking about a kid who lost her mind last year when the elf just sat in a bowl of marshmallows?”
“Exactly,” he says, looking up at you with that boyish grin that still makes your stomach flip, even after all these years. “We’ve gotta step it up this year. Bug’s smart. She’s going to start asking questions if we don’t bring our A-game. Plus, it’s Cub’s first Christmas. He deserves something special.”
“Oh, our A-game?” you tease, quirking an eyebrow. “This feels a lot like your game plan. I’m just here to make sure you don't go completely overboard.”
Quinn scoffs, picking up the elf and turning it in his hands like it’s a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “Overboard? I’m not the one who suggested having him write notes in icing last year.”
“Okay, first of all,” you point a finger at him, “that was adorable. Second of all, it was your idea to have him spill the sprinkles everywhere.”
“True,” he concedes, but the glimmer in his eye says he isn’t done brainstorming.
By the time you both finish setting up for the night, the elf is precariously perched on a zip line Quinn had insisted was the perfect length — stretching from the bookshelf, past the twinkling Christmas tree, and down to the TV cabinet. The elf itself? Nestled in a repurposed Easter basket at the end of the line, surrounded by a chaotic tumble of candy canes as if they'd crash-landed in spectacular fashion.
“This is good,” Quinn says, stepping back and crossing his arms as he admires the handiwork. “It’s believable.”
You snort. “Believable? It’s an elf on a zip line, Quinn.”
But even you have to admit, it's fantastic. The candy canes, the tiny basket, the zip line stretching across the room — it's chaotic and whimsical and perfect. Bug is surely going to lose her mind, and Cub — well, he might not fully understand what’s happening, but you just know he’s going to be wrapped up in his sister’s energy, his tiny hands clapping and his little laugh bubbling up as he mirrors her excitement — and honestly, you can't wait to see their little faces.
And so the next morning arrives, and Bug’s shriek of delight breaks the stillness, and she’s off like a shot, her little feet pounding against the floor as she charges into the living room.
“He’s flying!” she exclaims, her voice an awed whisper by the time she reaches the elf. Her hands hover over her mouth as she stares at the zip line, her excitement bubbling over into giggles.
Cub trails behind her, still mastering the art of crawling, his chubby hands slapping against the floor with determination. He babbles loudly, clearly swept up in Bug’s enthusiasm even though he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening. When he finally reaches the Easter basket at the end of the zip line, his tiny fingers curl around a stray candy cane with the single-minded focus only a baby can muster.
“No, Cubby!” Bug gasps, darting forward and shielding the basket like her life depends on it. “You can’t touch him! He’s doing his elf job!”
Quinn appears just in time, crouching down to scoop Cub into his arms before he has a chance to undo all his handiwork.
“Whoa, buddy,” he says with a soft laugh, lifting Cub high into the air and eliciting a delighted squeal. “The elf’s got important work to do. No sabotage today.”
Bug tugs on Quinn’s sweatpants, her expression solemn, her wide eyes darting between him and the elf.
“Daddy, did he really fly here? Like… magic?”
Quinn lowers himself to her level, balancing Cub on his hip as the baby grabs at his hoodie string. “Absolutely,” he says, his tone serious, though the twinkle in his eye betrays him. “Do you think I could’ve set up something this cool? That’s all elf magic.”
Bug’s mouth drops open, her hands clasping dramatically in front of her chest as she whispers, “he's the best.” Her awe is palpable, her gaze glued to the tiny elf perched on the string.
Cub, meanwhile, has no patience for elves. His hands pat Quinn’s chest insistently, demanding attention with a flurry of babbles. Quinn leans his forehead gently against Cub’s, his voice soft as he whispers, “don’t worry, Cub. You’ll figure it out next year.”
You lean against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold with a fond smile tugging at your lips. Bug turns to you, bouncing slightly on her toes.
“Mommy! Do you see? He’s so cool!”
“I see him, Bug,” you say, stepping closer to circle an an arm around Quinn’s waist, leaning into him. “Looks like the elf pulled out all the stops last night.”
Quinn tilts his head, brushing it lightly against yours. “Told you the zip line was genius,” he murmurs, his voice low and smug, though the warmth in his gaze softens the teasing. He nudges you lightly with his hip, the playful gesture drawing a quiet laugh from you.
Bug grabs his free hand, her eyes alight with anticipation. “Daddy, do you think he’ll do something even cooler tomorrow?”
Quinn glances at you, sharing a small smile like it’s your own little secret, before turning back to Bug.
“Oh, I’m sure he will,” he says, his tone full of playful assurance, giving your hip another gentle nudge as if to say, we’ve got this.
#he'd 100% send you ideas when he's on the road too and ask for video reactions since he can't be there <3#dad!quinn#capquinn’s requests#capquinn's writing#quinn hughes x reader#quinnmas
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until one of us caves
Rolan x Reader
Summary: After fighting Lorroakan, you decide to stay with Rolan.
A/N: I know that like maybe three people are gonna read this but I couldn't care less. The more I learned about Rolan's story, the bigger of a soft spot I got, and this little thought wouldn't leave my head so I had to write this down. Nothing serious, just something I wish I could do in the game. Also, this story kinda drifted a little from the original plan about halfway through and started writing itself, so don't blame me if the quality is dubious lmao. Requests for him are open I guess, if anyone's interested.
Word count: 3k
Masterlist
The scent of smoke and ash hung in the air. Stones and mud, remains of the elementals, littered the floor of Ramazith's Tower; as well as a few burned books here and there, smashed furniture, and splatters of blood in the marble. It would take a while to get the place back to the glory it could hold, but you figured it was doable.
The body of its previous master lay lifeless on the floor, spine broken, skin torn. You held no pity for him, only resentment.
From the corner of your eyes, you could spot a twitching tail and clenched fists, staring blankly at the body of his tormentor. He said nothing, merely huffed and walked away before you could think of saying anything, your gaze followed his steps.
The time between when you'd first set foot in Sorcerous Sundries and now had gone by in a haze. You had stopped dead in your tracks then, breath hitching as you caught sight of the countless bruises on Rolan's skin, and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness took over you. You'd walked up to him, the words "Who did this to you?" were stumbling past your lips before he even had the chance to utter the practiced greeting. Rolan had evaded the matter, as you'd expected, building ever higher walls around himself. And you'd surprised yourself with how restless the sight of him had made you feel.
"Soldier?" Karlach's hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present, making you quickly turn your head back to her.
You blinked several times until your eyes regained their focus; "yeah?"
She gave you a halfhearted smile and you wondered just how much your turmoil showed on your face. "I was just asking if you're alright, and… where do we go from here." Her voice held kindness to it, as it usually did. More often than not Karlach was, surprisingly, a calming balm in your hectic days.
"Uh-" you hesitated. Perhaps you should already be used to being the one people turned to in search of guidance, leadership. But it was a title you'd never really asked for, was it?
"You guys should go ahead, dispose of him somewhere," you gestured to Lorroakan's lifeless form, "before anyone walks in on… all of this."
Karlach nodded along and then raised a brow at you. "And what of you?" She asked, yet there was a smirk on her lips that alluded to the fact that she already knew the answer.
"I'll hang back." Your cheeks warmed up, "I'll meet you guys at Elfsong later."
"Take your time, soldier," Karlach winked at you, then turned to hurl the dead Wizard's body over her shoulder. "Right let's go people, nothing left to see here."
"And how exactly do you intend to walk around the city with that?" Shadowheart asked exasperatedly, yet followed Karlach to the swirling portal nonetheless.
The tiefling shrugged, holding Lorroakan's body with one arm, "I don't know. If anyone asks we'll just say he's drunk or something."
"Are you out of your mind?"
"Oh, I want to see that."
Shadowheart and Astarion added simultaneously, one rolling her eyes and the other smiling brightly.
"Alright then, you think of some excuse for-"
You chuckled at the banter of your companions, their voices growing distant as they disappeared through the portal that would take them back to the bustle of Sorcerous Sundries.
With a deep breath in and a long exhale out, you turned around, gaze slowly roaming over the empty expanse of the luxurious tower; now so quiet, bordering on serene, save for the damage the battle left behind. Until you finally spotted the one you were looking for.
Rolan was tucked away in a shadowy corner, head bowed as he stacked a few fallen books on his hands and then beside each other on the shelves. His movements all stiff and slow, as if the books were much too heavy and it hurt to carry them.
The worry twirling in your stomach threatened to escape as you took careful steps towards him. Yet you still weren't sure how to approach him. The tower suddenly held a nearly intimate air. It was delicate, fragile. The lines between you and him had started to blur, you couldn't pinpoint when, but they did; and now, in the privacy of the high tower, you started to feel the weight of it.
You cleared your throat, but the tiefling didn't turn to look at you, though his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. You wondered if he knew you'd stayed, or perhaps hoped you would.
"Rolan… would you like some help with organizing things a little? At least for the night?" You tried, unsure what else you could possibly say and biting back the urge to tell him that he looked like he needed a good night's rest. He wouldn't admit it, you knew; but the fight had taken a huge toll on his already bruised body. He looked utterly exhausted; shoulders slumped, tail laying limply on the floor, barely holding himself together.
He turned his head to glance at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and lips hovering with uncertainty for a moment. "No, I can manage…" Rolan's voice was quiet, his features softly highlighted by the last fading rays of sunshine coming through the tall windows. You could see the bruises on his cheek, jaw, and nose—some new, some old; darker shades blooming on his reddish skin.
"You can go," he turned away again.
"Are you… sure?" You took half a step forward, fidgeting with your own hands. You didn't feel like leaving him just yet.
"Yes. I'm sure." He finally faced you fully in a quick motion, eyebrows slightly furrowed, "I'm not a helpless child, I can at least take care of organizing this mess by myself, if nothing else."
You closed your eyes momentarily at his words, "That's- that's not what I meant, I know you can-"
"What is it you want then? That I thank you for saving my sorry ass? Again?" His tone held bite to it, anger even, yet you had a feeling that it wasn't directed at you, but at himself. With a huff, he threw aside the one book he still held in his hands, "Okay then, thank you, your heroic attitude of the day has been achieved." He gestured toward you, speaking as if he had been just another thing to check off your list.
The movement of his mouth had pried open a fresh cut he had on his lip. Rolan didn't seem to notice, but the small sliver of blood glinted in the low light. Your heart ached, but not for his words, they were mostly empty. It ached because you saw how much he was hurting. That defeated look lingered in his golden eyes, the same you'd seen at Last Light Inn when he had been incapable of rescuing his siblings. You wished you could tell him he was enough. You wished he would believe you.
You took in a steadying breath, holding onto your composure for both of your sakes. "It's not about being a hero, Rolan, it's about helping the people I care about."
Another scoff fell past his lips, he avoided your eyes, looking distantly out the window beside him; "What are you doing here then?"
You merely raised an eyebrow at him, features soft, allowing him to believe in whatever he wanted to believe.
His throat worked through a heavy gulp when he glanced at you again, tail swishing behind him as he took half a step back. "Sod off," the words came out heavy and unstable, "You came here because Lorroakan was after your Aasimar friend… Your job is done now, you can leave." He stormed past you then, quick steps taking him to the other side of the tower.
With a roll of your eyes, you followed after him, "I came here because I care about you, too." You tried to convey as much sincerity in your words as you could, staring intently at his back as he raised a fallen chair. You caught a glimpse of his tail, coiled tightly around his own leg. You wondered if he even realizes he's doing it, if it's some kind of self-soothing habit he's learned over the years.
His hair had been undone, too, falling freely over his shoulders and looking a tad longer than what you were used to. The look suited him—a touch of softness in his usually sharp appearance—in the back of your mind you promised yourself to tell him that someday.
Several beats of silence went by. With Rolan holding tightly onto the back of the wooden chair. You tended to be annoyingly insistent, the tiefling thought to himself. Ever since the first time he met you, you had a habit of refusing to give up on people. On him. Rolan tried to tell himself it didn't get to him, that the butterflies in his stomach, and the overwhelming relief your mere presence brought him meant absolutely nothing. Because of course, you wouldn't look twice at someone like him, would you?
It was ironically sad that his heart would choose you—the hero, his hero—of all people, to have a soft spot for. He could never measure up, not really, and he knew that; told himself that very fact over and over whenever his mind dared to hope with what-ifs.
"You don't mean that," his voice was small and he berated himself for allowing it to be. He closed his eyes tightly, knuckles growing white with his grip on the chair. "And I was fine," Rolan emphasized the words yet he didn't know anymore if he was trying to convince you or himself.
Silence engulfed the tower again. Deafening silence. One sharp claw tapped the back of the wooden chair, a fast rhythm, following the heartbeat thundering through his veins. With a defeated sigh, Rolan turned to face you. Still, he refused to meet your eyes, focusing instead on the fabric of your glove wrapped around your hand; he could see faint scars on your fingers, wondered how you got them.
"Were you, really?" You asked then, softly, near desperately; waiting with bated breath for him to just look at you.
Rolan was a little difficult to get to, had been since you first met him. Part of you rather enjoyed your harmless bickering every now and then. Behind the witty words, there had always been hidden smiles and bashful eyes, the hopeful glint of being in each other's presence, if briefly.
Alas, you weren't exactly entitled to pry or demand, much as you cared for him it wasn't your place, so you relented; "Tell me you're alright, truly alright, and I'll leave if that's what you want so bad."
Rolan hesitated for a heartbeat, and then two, and three. Any words he might want to say were stuck in his throat, tangled in between feelings that confused the hells out of him. How could he ever tell you that he's not alright? That he hasn't been for a long time?
How could he tell you that he doesn't want you to leave, ever?
There was a distant stinging behind his eyes and he hated himself for it, for being so needy and vulnerable. He hated how his palms were sweaty and his heart threatened to break free of his ribcage with the speed it was beating. He hated how his knees seemed on the brink of collapsing with his weight. He hated how he suddenly felt all the bruises in his body hurting so badly, as if only now he allowed himself to feel the pain they inflicted. He hated-
A soft touch on his lower lip halted Rolan's spiraling thoughts abruptly, and his breath. With the sleeve of your robe, movement as light as a feather, you cleaned a sliver of blood that had escaped the fresh cut there. Rolan shuddered under your touch, for like a breath of fresh air after nearly drowning to death, that was all he could feel.
Pointy teeth dug into the inside of his cheek, holding back what would only be a flood of embarrassment for him if he allowed his pestering emotions to spill. His throat closed up tight, vision growing hazy until you were nothing but a blur in front of him.
There was something about the way you touched him oh so tenderly that got his walls tumbling down as if they were paper under the rain. Your hand lingered, refusing to part from him. Your fingers trailed a hesitant path to his cheek, mapping the bruises underneath- no, mapping his skin, him.
And he could crumble. Rolan felt himself falling, falling, falling.
When was the last time he felt a kind touch? one that didn't hurt or sting or threatened? He couldn't recall.
"I do mean it, I care about you, Rolan." You promised him, and only him. Whispered words dripping with affection.
The front of your boots hit his shoes as you took a final step closer. Rolan brought one hand up, his fingers closing around your wrist with urgency. Yet his hold was gentle, pressing into the veins there and feeling your pulse running beneath his fingertips. He held you there, all but begging you to stay. Words were difficult, complicated, and messy; hopefully his soul could tell you what he couldn't.
With your heart in your mouth, you mumbled; "it's okay. It's over." You're not sure if he heard or felt the words, but Rolan dipped his head forward until his forehead bumped yours.
Suddenly close wasn't close enough. You wanted to kiss away his tears, his bruises, his pain; promise him that everything would be alright now even if your own life was a sea of uncertainty.
"Why?" It fell past his lips. Such a genuine question uttered with such a small voice that it hurt you like a dagger to the heart.
"Why do these things happen to me?" Rolan's voice cracked and stumbled, his eyebrows briefly furrowed in a mix of anger and sorrow. "I-" he breathed in deep and unsteady, bright eyes welling with unshed tears that shone brightly under the soft candlelights on the walls.
You gulped back your own heartache, struggling to keep to yourself how soft he made you feel. You slowly raised your other hand to push fallen strands of hair behind his ear.
"I hoped it had a purpose," he admitted then, quiet as breath. His lower lip quivered before he spoke again, closing his eyes and leaning timidly towards your touch. "That it was a test, and he would- he would eventually stop. That I just needed to endure a while longer."
A choked sob stumbled past his lips and you felt the first of his tears landing on your thumb. Rolan shook his head, a self-deprecating scoff falling past his lips; "that I deserved it."
"Stop," you said before you could think, finally taking your hand away from his cheek, only to bury it into his hair instead. With the encouragement you knew he needed, you pulled him to you.
Rolan fell forward with no restraints, no hesitations, only a weary soul looking for solace. He buried his head between your neck and shoulder, both arms coming around your waist and squeezing tightly, to the point of his claws nearly ripping your robe.
You held him back with the same desperation, one hand tangling in between his hair and cradling his head to you. Your lips brushed the nape of his neck in a silent confession of adoration.
The fabric of your robe grew damp as silent tears fell past Rolan's defenses, his body shaking in your hold, releasing months if not years of bottled-up emotions.
With a kiss to his warm skin, embers of the fire he ignited in your heart broke free; "You could never deserve what he did to you. You're so very special, Rolan. To Cal, To Lia…" You told him, slow and tender, twirling strands of his hair between your fingers, and a small smile stretched your lips when you felt him relaxing against you. "… To me." It was nothing but a whisper, blown into the wind only for him to hear.
Rolan's breath stumbled, you felt it in the way he gripped you tighter—if that was even possible—and heard it in the soft gasp beside your ear.
"Please don't-" His voice broke in the middle, all husky and wobbly from his tears. "Don't say… that. If you don't mean-" he hesitated, fresh tears cascading freely down his cheeks, beyond any foolish attempt to be held back; they dripped down the bridge of his nose and soaked the fabric of your robe, making him curl into you all the more to hide his embarrassment from the outside world.
"Please," it was so quiet as he pleaded. For what, he wasn't entirely sure anymore. Maybe he just knew he couldn't take losing anything else.
You pulled back and Rolan felt his heart stumbling and cracking in his chest. But you were quick to mend it back together, with both hands coming up to hold his cheeks again, your thumbs brushing away the wetness there, near reverently.
"I promise," you whispered, gaze drifting ever so slightly downward before focusing back on his bright eyes. You were bold enough to lean in until the tip of your nose touched his, and as you did so you felt something coiling around your leg. You smiled; "I promise."
Rolan gulped, his mouth parting as he barely held himself back from closing the gap between you. Goosebumps littered his whole body when his upper lip accidentally brushed yours.
He pulled away but refused to loosen his grip on your waist. "I don't want you to leave," he said it so quietly, offering you his bleeding heart with a shaking hand.
Gentle fingers brushed away the messy strands of hair clinging to his forehead. When Rolan looked up, there was a loving smile on your lips, it was the first time he saw it and he already knew he'd kill to see it again.
You leaned closer, and with a kiss between his brows, you said; "then I'll stay."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
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Prompt suggestion <3 Rolan/Tav NSFW. Tav really likes it when Rolan speaks to her in infernal. She doesn’t understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact that it turns her on. He starts to notice her subtle reactions to when he curses or something in infernal. Which leads to bedroom shenanigans lol. My username is the same on A03 ^^
this has taken me a minute, mostly because i had to spend some time literally making up the infernal language for the purpose of this fic LMAO. if you're interested in my process it's in the end notes on ao3.
i changed the prompt a little though; rolan doesnt notice because he's very silly and keeps failing the perception check. lia notices immediently.
NSFW read on ao3 here
~~~
The first time Tav hears Rolan speak infernal, she doesn't even register it as a word. It slips past his tongue and it's all consonants and noises that she's not sure she could emulate properly with her non-tiefling tongue.
"Zurgan." He mutters it under his breath as he drops a pile of books.
Her quill stops midair where she's busy writing up an inventory of magical items they've found. With everyone else busy or gone from the city, she offered to help Rolan with organising the tower. It's been a nightmare, frankly. The previous tower master (she wont do him the privilege of speaking his name, the bastard) had apparently spent the last who-knows-how-many years stuffing things into random shelves and boxes.
She frowns as she tries to repeat the word, "Zu- Zurgan? What's that mean?"
Rolan jumps, clearly having forgotten she's in the room, "not zurgan, zurgan. It means- well, I don't know if it translates literally to common. It's... an expletive, I suppose ."
She laughs, "so it means 'fuck'?"
He huffs, and rolls his eyes, "I suppose that's a close enough approximation, yes."
"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before."
"Well," his brow is furrowed as he thinks, "I suppose I try not to, really. It's not becoming."
Tav snorts at that, "Gods, how old are you, 150? Besides, how is swearing in tiefling any different?"
"The language is called infernal, you uncultured swine. I'm a tiefling, I speak infernal."
"You speak something alright. Usually a crock of shi-"
"What did I say about it not being becoming, hm?"
She rolls her eyes at him, "so sorry, Master Rolan, please accept my humblest of apologies for disgracing your presence in such a regard."
He rolls his eyes at her, but she hears him snort and sees the quirk of his lip. "I suppose as far as apologies go, that one will suffice."
~~~
Several weeks later, Cal shouts through the door to the study where they're cataloguing evocation books, "Rolan! Lia and I are heading to the market, do you want us to pick up more of the wine you like?"
He laughs, which is rare enough in itself, and leans out the door to reply.
"Fazit drakon'ziz orum?!"
She hears Cal's responding cackle from down the hallway. "alright, alright, little drakon'ziz. I'll get 2 bottles, 'cos I love you."
When Rolan comes back in, chuckling to himself, Tav doesn't say anything. She wants to ask what it means, but she's... distracted.
Something about the way the words sound when he says them is... enticing. She's not sure if she could repeat them without butchering them, but even if she could she's sure they wouldn't sound as delicious as when they come from him. It's something about the rich tone to his voice, which she's always liked, coupled with the harsher edge it takes on when he speaks the foreign language.
Gods, she's been spending far too much time with him,
She clears her throat, "drakon'ziz?"
Rolan turns to her, still smiling, " drakon'ziz , but close. It means dragon."
His lopsided smile, aimed at her, coupled with the gruffness of the unknown word, is a little bit intoxicating.
"What about the rest of what you said? Fa- Fazit something?"
"'Fazit drakon'ziz orum?' It means 'does a dragon want gold?' It's a tiefling saying, basically means 'yes, obviously.' It just sounds better in infernal."
Tav agrees. It sounds rather lovely in infernal, in fact.
When Tav doesn't reply, he raises an eyebrow, "I could try and teach you some? Infernal, that is. If you'd be interested. Tell me something you want to be able to say, I'll try and teach you how to say it."
She thinks for a moment.
"What if I want to call someone a shit-head?"
He barks out a laugh as he rolls his eyes, "of course you'd just want to know how to insult people. I think the closest translation would be uzterku'zereb. That means 'shit-for-brains'."
Despite the small jolt her stomach gives as he utters the phrase, she starts cackling. "That's even better!"
~~~
It's been about a month and a half since they started cataloguing everything in the tower, and it's basically become a nightly occurrence that Tav stays for dinner with them. Rolan has finally sat down at the dining table, after bringing all the dishes and cutlery through, and right as he hits the chair there's a sheepish voice from beside him.
"... Rolan~" It's Lia, in a singsong voice, and he huffs.
"What do you want?" It's a question, but it sounds more like an admonishment.
"How could you?! Assuming I want something from you. My beloved big brother. I look up to you so much. Also I left my drink in the sitting room."
You and Callum both laugh, and he makes a very dramatic show of pushing his chair back out with a huge sigh.
"You're such a..." He flails for a moment, as if the word in common has escaped him, "an uztanatez. Next time, you're getting it yourself."
She laughs, "My dear brother, I would fall on my sword for you."
"Mhm." He grumbles, " gladiz zurzum kuluz ..."
Cal nearly falls out of his chair laughing as Rolan trudges from the room, and Lia has a grin on her face from successfully riling him up and getting what she wanted.
Tav is blushing.
"What did he say?" She feels hesitant to bring attention to herself when she knows she's bright red, but she's also too nosy for her own good.
Lia looks at her and opens her mouth to answer, but pauses as she takes in Tav's face. Cal, blissfully, doesn't notice.
"Well the first bit was him calling her a suck up," he laughs through his explanation, "and the second bit was him telling her exactly where she could shove her sword."
She laughs, and thanks him for telling her. Lia is still looking at her. Her face warms more.
"What?"
"Hm." Lia smiles in a way that looks slightly threatening; the way Tav imagines a shark would smile at a seal before taking a huge chunk out of it. "Nothing, really. Only, you weren't that flushed before Rolan spoke in infernal. Got a thing for the devil's tongue, have you Tav?"
Cal furrows his eyebrows in confusion, before his eyes widen and his mouth drops in an 'o' of understanding.
She's about to deny it but she can feel that she's even redder now, so instead she buries her face in her hands. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare say anything!"
"Say anything about what?" Of course Rolan would walk back in now. He places Lia's cup in front of her and turns to Tav expectantly, but Lia speaks before she can.
"Tav is just embarrassed because she didn't understand what you said, she felt left out."
His face breaks into a look of confusion, "You shouldn't be embarrassed by that, Tav, you don't speak the language. Uztanatez-" Tav sucks in a breath, and Lia snorts, "means 'bootlicker'. Gladiz zurzum kuluz means... well... 'shove your sword up your rear'."
Cal and Lia are both sporting shit eating grins. Tav thinks now is a good time to pick a God and pray.
~~~
" Pulch'zer."
He says it as she walks through the door to the study one morning.
"Sorry, repeat that?"
His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep crimson colour. She's never seen him blush before, or at least she's never noticed because of his skin's natural shade.
"Sorry I was just..." He averts his gaze, looking back at the paperwork he's working on, "I was just thinking out loud..."
She chuckles lightly. "Ah, that text will be kicking your ass then. Pulch'zer. What does it mean?"
He looks up at her again. His eyes lock with hers.
"You're close, it's not pulch'zer, it's pulch'zer . You have to put more emphasis on the 'Z' sound."
Gods, she needs to stop asking. He always ends up correcting her, and she always ends up going bright pink. He pronounces the words more precisely when he's teaching her how to say them, it drives her insane.
"Pulch- Pulch? Pulch'zer."
He chuckles, stands and walks over to her. "You're close, but now you're putting too much emphasis on it." He's only an arms length away from her now. " Pulch'zer ."
She gulps. He needs to stop repeating it.
"P- Pulch'zer." She can't tear her eyes away from him, she stares right into his gaze as she repeats it. He sucks a small breath in, so small it's barely noticeable.
"Yes. Very good."
There's a pause.
"So. What does it mean?"
He's flushing again. "It... Well. It..."
She raises an eyebrow, "that bad huh?"
"... it means 'beautiful'."
Tav's face twists in confusion. "What about your book is beaut-"
Rolan surges forward and plants his lips on hers. She gasps into it, the rest of her words swallowed by her inhale and his tongue. She sinks into it. His hands fall onto her waist, and he uses them to drag her closer, pulling the whole length of his body against hers. When he pulls away it feels far too soon, but in his defence he's breathless. He only leans his chest away, his hips still against hers.
"I wasn't talking about the book."
The look in his eyes is vulnerable in a way she's never seen him before. As though he desperately wants her to understand, and yet is terrified that she will. Like he's scared to fracture whatever comfortable thing they've fallen into together.
"Well..." She takes a deep breath, rests a hand on his chest. "Then I'd like you to know that I think you're very pulch'zer."
He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a single disbelieving laugh. "That sounds ridiculously good when you say it, you know."
She snorts, dismissive, "please, it's far better when you say it. I love when you speak infernal."
He stares at her.
She feels her eyes bug out of her head as what she said hits her. "I mean! Not that- I don't mean that like-"
"You love it? What does that mean?"
She can feel the heat in her face. Suddenly everywhere he's touching her is too much, she needs to fall through the floor to a new realm and start her life over with a fake name.
"I don't- I didn't mean-"
As she fumbles over her words, Rolan's face starts to lift into an understanding smirk. "Oh. I see. You love it."
He leans forward towards her, and his lips brush her ear.
"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq ?"
She shudders, "Rolan, I have no idea what you're saying."
He chuckles lowly against the shell of her ear. " Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko ."
Gods, it's torturous. He's dropped his voice an octave, giving the already heavy words an even more gravelled tone. Her breath is coming out in pants and she whines. The way it's affecting her is ridiculous.
He doesn't stop, " morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi ."
"Rolan, please."
He grins against her, and she feels his length pressing against her body through his robes. " Quid plaket, dilekt'miz ?"
" Rolan , common tongue, please . I want to know what you're saying."
"I said 'please what?'"
Tav huffs in irritation, "I don't know."
He brings his lips up to brush hers, smiling against her as she tries to pull him closer.
"Do you want me to kiss you again?"
She swallows hard around the lump in her throat and nods.
"Mhm. Ask me nicely."
The noise she lets out is embarrassing, a high pitched whine that she couldn't stop if she tried, but she feels his breath against her lips as he exhales in excitement.
"Kiss me, Rolan. Please."
His smile is wide against her, "as you wish, pulch'zer."
When he kisses her, his lips are gentle against hers. Soft and pliant, eager but restrained. When he parts them slowly, she responds in kind and finds his tongue with hers, and he rewards her with a deep, sensual moan from low in his throat. His lips are warm and soft, his mouth tastes of spearmint, his breath flows through her. She feels her small-clothes growing damp.
As he deepens the kiss his movements grow more insistent, more intense, and he squeezes her hips as he grinds her into him. She moans in response and the noise flips a switch in him. All of a sudden his lips are frantic, the kiss turning messy and needy, and his hands are running up and down her body as thought they don't know where to settle.
He pulls back enough to speak, his breath dancing along her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. " Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne ."
Tav moans, long and slow as the words rush over her skin, "Gods, Rolan. I wish I knew what you were saying. Fuck ."
He chuckles quietly, "perhaps I'll teach you Comprehend Languages. Then again... Forzit adv'illi."
She groans. "Rolan, please ."
He grins, grinding his length against her, "please, what?"
The huff she lets out is impatient, "you know what."
His mouth traces the shell of her ear again and she shivers. "Perhaps. But tell me anyway."
She groans, "please fuck me, Rolan."
He needs no further invitation. Rolan undresses them both rapidly, swift and efficient just as he treats his work, and they're both bare before each-other in a few moments.
When he looks over her, sweeping his eyes across her form, he lets out a low noise of appreciation. "Hells, Tav, you're beautiful."
She feels nervous, all of a sudden, bare before him, but she smiles despite it. "So are you."
He's back on her, trailing his lips along her throat and collarbone, leaving teasing bites and grazes with his canines. She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him but she doesn't care. She can feel his length pressed against her stomach, can feel the grooves of the door on her back, and she's absolutely aching with need.
"Is this okay? Are you comfortable?" His questions make her chest ache with a different kind of need to the one pulsing through her core.
"Yes, Rolan. Please, for the love of- fuck me against this door."
His moan in response to her words is loud and wanton. " Hells , Tav. Lift your leg for me."
She does, and he grabs under her knee, lifting it up so it wraps around his hip, the heel of her foot against the base of his tail while her other foot stays planted against the floor. His other hand comes between them, grips the base of his cock and rubs it against her folds. She throws her head back as she keens, and at the same time he lets out a groan closer to a growl.
"Fuck, you're so wet. Is- This is still okay? You want this?" His voice wavers with lust.
Hearing him curse is almost as incredible as hearing him speak infernal. "Yes , Gods if you don't-"
He's sliding himself into her before she can finish her threat, and the rest of her words fizzle out into a high pitched moan as she throws her head back. His length is ridged and she can feel every notch as it slides into her. He works his way into her slowly, thrusting only an inch at a time until his pelvis comes to rest against hers, and he folds over to rest his forehead against her shoulder.
His first half of his sentence is muttered, the second half directed at her, "Tam strikta , fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz."
"I'm ready, please, fuck me."
He silences his own moan by clamping his mouth over the meat between her neck and shoulder, and begins thrusting shallowly. The slide of him inside her, the ridges on his shaft dragging against her walls, has her tightening her leg around his waist and dragging him closer. He grunts through his mouthful of her skin and starts to pick up his pace, until he's thrusting hard and fast into her.
She's a mess, and she knows it, but it doesn't matter. She's digging her heel into his ass and arching her hips away from the door to get closer to him, head thrown back and eyes wrenched shut. It's too much, but it's not enough. She grabs his hand that isn't holding her knee up and places it round the back of her other thigh. He's a quick study as always, taking a firm hold on the back of her leg and hoisting her other leg up around him, so she's held up against the door by just his weight against her and his bruising grip. It changes the angle, he drives deeper into her, and they both moan in tandem.
He's speaking again, infernal dialect spilling from him freely into her skin, " Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne ." He speaks the words with a reverence that that has her keening, clenching around him.
"Rolan, I'm so close, fuck don't stop."
He shakes his head, thrusts into her harder, "Hells, I won't, Tav. I won't, I won't, adv'illi, adv'illi -"
The utterance of more quiet infernal words against her tips her over the edge, and she finds her release around him. His movements become stuttered, desperate, " Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam."
He follows her over the precipice and empties himself inside her. She tightens her hold on him with her legs and kisses his neck as his hips twitch through his release, and as he stills they both try to find breath against each-other's skin.
"Gods, Tav." His voice is hoarse, "you- that was- I-"
She chuckles, which makes her walls clench and his hips stutter as he gasps at the feeling. "That was amazing, Rolan. What... Um. What were you saying?"
She pulls away to look at him, and his face is incredibly red. His freckles are barely visible through the violent blush. "Oh, um. Nothing- Nothing, really. Nothing important. Just... babbling. You know."
She laughs, slowly lowering her legs to the ground, both shuddering as he pulls himself from her. He mutters a quick incantation and they're both clean.
"You're going to have to teach me Comprehend Languages, now. I'm far too nosy to leave it at that."
"Hm. We'll see."
~~~
Translations:
"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq?" ("You like when I speak to you in my native tongue?")
"Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko." ("But you don't care, do you? It's not about what I say.")
"Morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi." ("Moaning for me already? Aren't I lucky.")
Quid plaket, dilekt'miz?" ("Please what, my beloved?")(he lies and tells her it means "please what?")
"Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne." ("You have no idea what you do to me. I have wanted you for so long.")
"Then again... Forzit adv'illi." ("Then again... Perhaps I won't.")
"Tam strikta, fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz." ("So wet, fuck. So tight and wet. Tell me when you're ready, my beloved.")
"Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne." ("You have no idea. You have no idea how long I've wanted you. How long I've craved your body against mine. I have dreamt of having you like this. My soul burns for you.")
"adv'illi" ("I won't.")
"Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam." ("I love you. I love you so much. You complete me. Please, please never leave my side. I would protect you to my dying breath.")
#bg3#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3 smut#bg3 fanfic#baldur's gate 3#bg3 fanfic prompt#bg3 requests#bg3 tav#rolan x tav#rolan bg3#bg3 rolan#rolan#holy rolan empire#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate iii
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Your Villain... on a Leash!?
18+ | Suggestive Content | MDNI | EN-released!Villains x Fem!Reader
How would your favorite member of Crown react if you asked them to wear a collar and a leash for you...?
CW: Suggestive content, Dom/Sub dynamics, puppy/pet play, possible deviations from canon, fem reader, nothing super, super explicit, but these men are filthy so...
AN: Just more of my domming-the-Villains agenda! I feel like most (?) of the members of Crown are tops/doms, so it's fun to imagine them as subs! I just want to boss them all around so bad! Lol, Enjoy!! hehehe
William Rex
Will would have a lot of fun with this. He'd be beyond delighted that you are asserting yourself and asking for something that you desire, especially something that is so naughty. He's not usually the submissive type (his power can literally get him anything he wants lol) but he decides to indulge you because you're so cute when you're bossy. But! Unbeknownst to you, he is already scheming to one day lead you around on a leash in return. But until then he’d be grinning and panting like a true puppy, really playing it up and testing how affectionate of a pup you can handle! It's almost overwhelming! He might even bark!
Harrison Gray
Haha, I can't imagine Harry getting into this, but he might reluctantly wear a collar just for you. It'd have to be a time when no one else would see. He'd be too embarrassed! He would probably draw the line at being led around on a leash. Harry seems like more of a cat than a puppy... He'd come to you eventually and you could at least praise him for being such a sweet boy, enjoying the blush that he tries so hard to cover up. ;)
Liam Evans
Liam is kind of already wearing a collar, how convenient. He would get soooo turned on by this activity lol. The idea of you tugging him around, keeping him close to you all day, petting and praising him...? It would drive him wild. He'd want to do this all the time. He'd lick you and pant and everything. Liam is so obsessed with his mistress. He’d get really into being your sweet, doting puppy that he'd actually whine when you try to take off his collar lmao.
Elbert Greetia
Wouldn’t mind this at all! Actually he’d kind of be into it because it would signal that you want to keep him by your side all the time. He wouldn’t be the most effusive or expressive pup but he would be sweetly, silently awaiting your praises and caresses while you lead him around. The way he doesn't take his eyes off of you like a loyal guard dog is so endearing to you. Once you two are alone, he'd start begging for even more affection from his mistress...
Alfons Sylvatica
Hahahaha! Who knows! Would Alfons be into this? Hard to say! He's so kinky, but he also gives the impression that he likes to be the one in control. He’d probably like to see you try to be his master, and he might even get unexpectedly turned on at this display of assertiveness from you? But... I can’t imagine him being a well-behaved puppy. He'd probably do everything in his power to fuck with you haha. He'd be all like, "isn't it your job to train me?" Yeesh. Roger Barel
“Ooh...? And where would you lead me to, hm?” He’s actually kind of intrigued by this request from you. Roger is a certified top, but since it's you he'd want to see how you go about this. For science, of course. He would love having so many opportunities to get you flustered, since he’s attached to you by a leash. He wouldn’t want anyone to see him in a collar but you, though haha. So you'd have a very limited area where he would feel comfortable enough to be your dog. And, let's face it, he would wriggle out of his collar and pounce on you before you could even lead him around lol.
Victor
The "V" in Victor actually stands for "vers." Lol. Victor happily obliges this request haha. He's such a gentleman and also such a freak lol. How could he refuse. He would gaze at you affectionately while you put his collar on and ask you all kinds of leading questions throughout the day to tease you. “Does my pretty master want me to fetch something for her?” “Does my collar look cute enough for my extra adorable master?” He’d ham it up so much that you'd get all flustered and quit this whole thing. But he'd still be grinning ear to ear, because he's so obsessed with you lmao.
Jude Jazza
Hahahahahaha, oh you silly little robin. You're not gonna do this with him. Lol, so cute that you thought this request could even be uttered. Lmao. He'd pull one of his faces and be all like "Are ya actually a dumbass?" BUT! I could see him enjoying making fun of you for asking this so much that he kind of talks himself into trying it? But only if you're willing to barter. He'd be all like "I doubt you've got what it takes to train a dog like me." You’d have to let him tie you up and lead you around somewhere as payback. And he’d want it to be extra humiliating for you. You're kind of scared to agree to it, but... he’d be so sexy on a leash. Dear god. He’d be so pissy and annoying lol. Bratty puppy Jude? Yes please! Ugh and it would be fun to treat him like a dog for once...
Ellis Twilight
Jesus christ. Imagining Ellis... in a collar? and on a leash? is unreasonably hot??? He would of course be down to do this if you told him it'd make you happy. And of course he’d be so casual about it, just smirking at you and being all like “So that means you’ll lead me around on a walk all day?” He would be so affectionate with you, licking you and rubbing his fluffy hair against you all day. He'd ask, “What if I don’t want to leave my master’s side, even if she takes me off-leash?” And you would just die! Like what is wrong with him??? ugghhhhh, Ellis is THE nosebleed material!!!
#ikemen villains#ikemen series#cybird ikemen#ikemen games#cybird otome#ikevillains#ikevil#william rex#harrison gray#liam evans#elbert greetia#alfons sylvatica#roger barel#jude jazza#ellis twilight#ikemen villains victor#ikevil william#ikevil harrison#ikevil liam#ikevil elbert#ikevil alfons#ikevil roger#ikevil jude#ikevil ellis#ikevil victor#ikevil fanfic#ikemen villains fanfiction#ikemen villains smut#ikevil smut#ikemen villains william
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About Zayne's possesiveness...
With Sylus calling us "kitten" all the time, I've seen Sylus mains being torn between if they like being called that or not, for some It's totally fine but for others is such a mood killer and I'm not a Sylus main but I'd be the second one for sure.
Then I remembered that Zayne once mentioned that I was his "favorite kitty" or that I was "his pet..." something like that? And I was like "where did he say that and why didn't I cringe when he said that? Maybe this is the effect of love (xD) maybe I understand Sylus mains better? I need to find out"
Then I remembered:
If Zayne is my personal Mr Kitty Cat, then I don't mind being his favorite kitty, we were basically the ones that initiated it and even put cat ears on him... So yeah, the whole vibe of this is totally different from Sylus' pet names.
However... He calling us "his pet" was a whole different story:
The way he lets his possesiveness slide for a second? You know, all of the guys are possesive somehow, they only show it differently, in this case, Zayne's possesiveness doesn't show too often cause he's aware that to be possesive of something is to allow yourself to show your weakness, to implicitly say "This person has a great power over my feelings or my behaviour bc It's mine..." that's why he stops himself when he says "Don't leave it with anyone else or I'll—" and then changes the approach "Do you want to leave it with someone else?"
And as the player, it leaves us hanging... Thinking "What would you do, Dr Zayne? What are you willing to do?"
We have to think about these questions from the perspective of Zayne's persona, of the kind of guy he is. We know the other guys have a bounty and have committed crimes/ killed people, while Zayne has done none of that and it's on the completely opposite side of things: He's a well respected doctor, has saved tons of lifes, is obssesed about saving people, a workaholic cause he knows the world needs him. The worst thing he's done (as far as we know) is that he had to kill his friend William when he was turning into a Wanderer and even so, it was William the one who asked this of him after Zayne desperately tried to save him against all odds.
Zayne is not someone who would even think of hurt others easily, even if he's quite able to cause others harm, just as much as the other LIs, but all versions of Zayne have in common that they're really kind. Sure, Dawnbreaker is a serial killer but we know he doesn't kill people out of joy but instead mercy. Sure, Foreseer was quite severe when MC first met him but It's not as if she didn't deserve it when she literally intruded his place, lied to him and tried to steal his powers (lmao) and we know he was wary of Astra all the time so he didn't want anyone to enter the Tower for their own sake and he paid with his life the price to keep MC alive. Master of Fate was supposed to kill MC but instead he chose to seal her powers to give her another chance to keep on living the life she told him she wanted to live (even without him).
So it's interesting to think what would Zayne do for MC? Us? If he decides to be selfish and fulfill his desires, what would he do? It seemed like he was even questioning himself, showing too much of what he's not used to show (And now with SS we just know how much he needs MC/us).
So that's why he changes the approach. His feelings are involved in this sudden and unexpected show of weaknesses, so he asks us "Do you want to leave it with someone else?" Now asking us about what we feel but not quite giving us time to reply.
The way he calls us "his pet" comes now more like he's gained control of his feelings again and is calling us that as a punishment for making him go through this unwanted jealousy but he's so ambiguous and smooth about it, that is giving "if It's too much don't take it" vibes because he neither confirms nor denies that he was talking about us.
Zayne is the kind of guy that would spoil you and shows his love through different ways: taking care of you and your health, acts of service, affirmation, sparing time for you, having you as his top priority, always offering his time/ himself (Have you notice how Zayne says "My free time is all yours, do with it what you want" while Sylus says "Who is your free time for if not me? " or how Xavier asks "Do you want to sleep with me?" while Zayne asks "Do you want me to sleep with you?"), he gives and gives (and lord knows how much he's tried to change and be more careful about his words and actions so they don't come across as alof, bc yes, Zayne hates to be mistaken as a heartless person) but of course he's also willing to do all that as long as you work for it and earn it too and if you misbehave, he makes you pay for it and knows how to give you a firm "No" when you try to backpedal or get away with it.
He knows (or tries) to balance his depth love by spoiling you while at the same time letting you know that nothing comes for free (even if he'd give it for free). Balance is a word that fits him best in all the aspects of his life, especially when it comes about love. He shows his feelings if you show them too (he both says "I never thought I'd have only one person in my eyes" accepting you're the only thing he sees and he also says "I want to be the only one in your eyes and for you to be mine" expressing what he desires too in a soft way) and when he shows his possesiveness, he's letting himself to lose this balance and he probably knows that you are the only thing that could make him completely lose this balance. His evol seems to be an analogy of this behavior, Zayne is always hyperaware that he could lose control of it at any given time and maybe, when it comes about his feelings, does he feel the same? ("It wouldn't be love if I could control it"). He's scared of hurting you but is he scared of the things he'd do for you?
Especially bc, all his other lifes and the current Zayne have always shown the opposite of possesiveness, they sacrifice themselves and their happiness for your own happiness and your well being. When MC asks Foreseer Zayne "Didn't you say you don't want to lose me again?" his literal reply was "I will never lose you as long as you're alive and well" and when Master of Fate was supposed to kill MC, he chose to seal her powers away even if it also meant to sacrifice his presence in her life (even after he promissed that they would always be together and promissed not to leave her and desired fulfill those promises). Dawnbreaker's only solace is MC, he only yearns for her and nothing else, a powerful quote they say in his anecdotes is "It's better to die with clarity than living as a walking corpse" referencing to ppl that turns into Wanderers but this quote applies to Zayne too, in the sense that he's basically a walking corpse cause he doesn't live his own life. MC is the only thing that keeps him alive somehow and she's not even in his own world. Dr Zayne says "When you and the world wake up, I hope we do not meet again" bc he knows this is the best for you.
All Zayne's are filled with pent up yearning, want, need, desire, to a point It's seems it is about to overflow and he does a goddam good work at hiding it; no wonder why Dr Zayne is taking all the available chances with MC, but even he seems to be aware that this won't last forever and even in such period of time, why he seems so afraid to loose up... lose control of himself? Especially cause Dr Zayne seems to be the balance amongst all Zayne's, he's not as dark and depressive as Dawnbreaker, nor as cold and severe as Foreseer, nor as happy and carefree as Master of Fate but at the same time holds a little of all of that.
So the question here is, how a showcase of the loss of this balance would be? For now we can only imagine and come up with assumptions but I'm quite curious to see it playing fully ingame, you know? Altho I'm not sure if I'd like it if it comes at the cost of him getting hurt again.
#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace#lads zayne#zayne#l&ds zayne#l&ds#lnds#Sorry I think about him 24/7#I need to get the thoughts out of my head from time to time ajxldkd
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I love your touch starved Gale so much 😭❤️ honestly it's so tender and yum haha
Do you have an A-Z/Alphabet NSFW thing for Gale??? 🙏
I do now!!! I totally forgot abut Alphabet stuff, if ya'll want one for every character let me know, I'm working on Astarion right now!
Gale Dekarios NSFW alphabet (x reader)
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Gale is kind and caring, he will always make sure you get what you need before he really relaxes. Sex isn't over for him until you're taken care of, aftercare is a part of the sexual experience to him.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Creampie every time, though after eating you out he has stopped to cum on your thighs.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Not that much of a secret since anyone who looked at his underwear knows, it's self jerk off underwear. Honestly I think he's used them during battle when you look extra hot. Trying really hard not to show that he's pleasuring himself.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Gale is fairly experenced, having a few mortal hookups/relationships and obviously a long fling with Mystra that left him a bit sexually traumatized (and generally very traumatized). He's had enough sex to know what he wants but still open to try new things.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Side fucking is his favorite for sure, it's easy to get away with while camping with the others as well. Also plowing you from behind while you lay on your stomach is a favorite, as he can kiss your neck or hold down your waist.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Very serious. Once he gets in that mood there's no getting him out of it.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He's trimmed for your pleasure, otherwise he'd definitely just forget.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Gale is a great mix of romantic, passionate, and filthy. Everything does hand in hand very well, he can absolutely run a train through you in astral protections with gangbanging you with literally just clones of himself, but he will still whisper sweet and romantic things, still check if you need to stop or if anything is too much.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Gale cry jerks like all the time lmao. Guilty masturbation is something he has mastered. Thinking about you before you get sexually involved? he will feel guilty.
How he jerks off is two different ways. The only way he can really cum is by grinding on something, his hand, the bed, his enchanted underwear, etc... But he doesn't need to cum. So he also jerks off with his hand behind the rocks near the beach in act 1s camp.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
This is gonna be a hear-me-out kind of situation.
Semi public sex kink. in front of windows, on balconies, middle of the forrest, etc.
lil bit of a jealousy thing, leaves hickies on your neck to show that ya'll fuck good.
he wouldn't do anything to harm you, so anything thats too 'harsh" is a no no for Gale.
thigh fucking kink?
sweaty kink?? cause battling? that whole speech was one of the most sexually charged things I have read.
lil bit of a breeding kink, not with actually getting pregnant, but definitely the deep creampies and keeping his cum in you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Gale cannot WAIT to fuck you in every single inch of his tower. Whenever he pictures fucking you, he pictures you in his home. It's kinda romantic.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Honestly, any glance at you will get him going. Like an instant hard on. If he looks at you too long, boner. if he looks at your thighs or butt? Boner. Slightly low cut top? Boner. Battling? Boner.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He would never do anything to hurt you, the most he'd do is wax play.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Giving. This man GIVES. He fucks to serve. He wants your pleasure, he doesn't cum til you do, no matter what. If that means he won't cum, then he won't cum. If he could spend all day between your legs he would.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Sensual but fast and hard. This man pounds.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He hadn't ever been able to not last a while before you, now, he can actually do quickies, which infatuates him for a while so you have a lot of quickies for a time. But usually everything lasts an hour or so.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Gale is down to try just about anything you'd want, but he definitely already knows what he likes most.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Shockingly he can go for awhile. He will need to just lay for a while because he definitely isn't made for long sessions, he just ignores his knee and back pain for you until he absolutely can't.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
We all know he will, can, and has used magic hand during sex. Does copies of him count as toys as well?
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Gale isn't one to tease much. Verbally, sometimes, yes, telling you how hot you are, how good you look, etc, while having no time to slip away to fuck.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
I feel like Mystra wanted him silent, so he's working on getting more vocal during sex. But he doesn't moan loudly, sometimes whimpers or gasps.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Gale absolutely reads smut. We know this kinda from his diagram books basically, but I think he has a whole bookshelf dedicated to smut. His favorite being wlw.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Said this before but honestly? I watched something and that dick that was shown just screamed Gale to me, so I'm revising my HC and saying Gale is 7 inches, girthy, and curved upwards and slightly to the left, it absolutely fucks. Like tied with best dick of the group, tied with Wyll and his ribbed cock.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Gales sex drive is very dependant on you. If he's thinking about you or around you? very high. On his own? slightly above average.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Depends. After a long fuck, literally instantly after he checks to see if you need anything. after astral fucking he feels energized, after a quickie he feels a bit tired but fine overall.
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@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen
(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)
#x reader#fanfiction#smut#gale of waterdeep#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate gale#gale x reader#gale dekarios#bg3 gale#gale x tav#gale of waterdeep x reader#gale of waterdeep x tav#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#baldurs gate tav#bg3 tav#balders gate 3#baldurs gate#tav
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I'd rather have empty sheets than empty promises
Carlos Sainz x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: I suck at titles so bad that it's not even funny anymore lmao. Anyway, English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes, enjoy!
“I don’t want to sleep on the couch.” Carlos entered the bedroom you two shared with a blanket in his arms. Honestly, he looked adorable, but you were still pissed.
“That’s fine. I’ll go instead.” You stood up from the bed and tried to grab the blanket from him but he gripped your arm instead. “Tesoro, I want to sleep with you. We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?” You wanted so badly to say yes, to sleep in his arms like nothing happened, but you knew you needed some space.
“It’s okay. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I just need some space right now, okay?” Carlos did not look like it was okay, but he let your arm free. He was not used to you being so cold, so distant. At that moment, you were not his loving girlfriend, but a ghost of her.
You made you way to the couch, which was thankfully pretty comfy. Still, you did not feel as good, as loved and as safe as you felt when you slept in his arms. He must have felt the same, because you could hear him tossing and turning in the bedroom.
After a few minutes, against your wish, you started to cry. The fight you two had really, really sucked. It was about you not being able to attend many races this season because of school. To muffle the sound, you hid your face in the blanket. Carlos still heard you, and he made his way to you on the couch, devastated to hear you cry.
“Tesoro…” He sat next to you and you immediately crawled into his arms. He gently brushed your hair with his fingers and patted your arm. You were now full-on crying.
“I’m sorry, Carlos, I am so, so, sorry!” It was difficult to talk through the tears.
“It’s okay, it’s all okay.” He was doing his best to comfort you but really, he needed the comforting too, because seeing you cry broke his heart.
Sobbing, you replied: “No, it’s not okay! I know you wanted me to be there. It’s your home race! I’m an awful girlfriend!” You were crying so damn hard that it was hard to breathe.
He continued to play with your hair, trying to soothe you. “I know you wish you could be there, Tesoro. I understand.” It’s true that he wished you could attend more races. He liked having you cheering on him. He always performed best when you were there. However, he understood that you had your own obligations, and he respected that. How could he be mad that his girl was successful and ambitious?
“I just don’t want you to think I don’t care!” You said, crying your heart out. Ok, wow, this was a new record for you. Usually, you weren’t the type to cry a river. Your period must be coming soon.
Carlos softly wiped the tears away and kissed your cheeks where they were. “Tesoro, no, don’t say that. I know you care; I have never doubted you.” You looked at him with teary eyes. “I’m afraid that you’ll grow tired of me someday, or that you’ll resent me for being absent because of school.” Here we go again. The tears started pouring once more. You tried to hide your face in his shoulder, but he gently pulled your head away to look at you.
You were ashamed of the doubt and fear in your eyes, since his were filled with love. “Tesoro, I could never get tired of you! You are essential to me. It’s true that I wish we could always be together, but I’m so proud of you, and I know that finishing your master is important to you. And you’ll be done soon, right?” He delicately stroked your face. He really was the perfect boyfriend, so compassionate and understanding.
You slowly started breathing regularly again, sometimes with the interruption of a few hiccups. You had no tears left to cry anyway.
“Yeah, I only have a few months left. After, I can be with you at every race.” You managed to give him a small smile.
“That’s it, Tesoro. Smile for me again. It breaks my heart to see you cry. I can’t wait for you to travel the world with me.” He gave you a soft kiss.
You laughed at little. “Gosh, I don’t know what’s going on with me. I cried this morning because I saw an old man sitting alone at a coffee shop, and I cried again when they didn’t have oat milk for my latte.” He laughed too. “Amor, you pretend you’re not a big crier, but you always cry for little things. Remember when you cried after seeing the lobsters in the tank at the grocery store?”
You lightly poked him in the chest. “They were just so cute! I felt bad for them.”
“But not enough to not eat them?” You stuck your tongue at him. “I want to go to bed now, Carlos. I’m so damn tired from crying every single tear in my body.”
“With me this time, I hope?” You kissed him. “Of course. We should never sleep apart unless we’re forced to. I never sleep well when I don’t feel your weight on the bed.”
He smiled at your words, then picked you up bridal style. You could get used to this. “I’m practicing for our wedding night,” Carlos said, laughing. He gently laid you on the bed.
You pointed at your empty ring finger. “I fear you’re getting ahead of yourself, Mr. Sainz.” He laid next to you on the bed. “Don’t worry Tesoro, it’s coming.” You gasped and he laughed at your shocked expression.
“Carlos, you can’t say that to me before we go to sleep! I’ll be up all-night thinking about it.” You were very, very pleased at his confession. You gave him a big smile.
“Good, then that’ll prepare you for when I keep you up all night after the wedding.” He snuggled into you. You laughed and he gave you a goodnight kiss.
“Goodnight, Carlos. I love you.”
“I love you too, Tesoro. Dream of me, will you?”
。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜
Less than a year later, you were walking down the stage of your university, one hand resting on your very rounded belly, showing off the diamond on your finger, and the other holding you master’s degree. You could hear your fiancé congratulating you somewhere in the public.
Who would’ve thought you were going to be a pregnant graduate? Turns out that there was a reason behind your endless tears that other night, a few months ago. Although the timing was not the one you had hoped for, you and Carlos could not be happier that a little Sainz was on the way.
You had been ecstatic when he proposed, and you could not wait to get married. Your only condition was that the wedding must be after your graduation, so you could have your maiden name on the degree, but before the birth of the baby, so you could all be Sainz.
That’s how you and Carlos ended up in kitschy chapel in Las Vegas after a thrilling GP. The pictures were adorable. You were in a short white dress, with your full belly on display, and your now husband was in tux, holding you possessively in his arms. You looked positively in love, and that’s what you were. This was not the grand wedding you had expected, but it was a thousand times sweeter. Plus, it would be a great story to tell at bedtime.
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They often say food can be a language of love, and one of the things that started driving Suguru into a deeper depression was eating curses that tasted horribly disgusting and then also not being able to eat normal food, so I was thinking about a story concept where Reader through whatever means can actually give Geto his sense of taste back and actually ease the discomfort he experiences when eating curses, and he forms a deep gratitude/obsession/love because of it
Obviously i publish yandere stuff but it doesn't mean up in Brain Land that I don't think of other ideas, action, adventure, what not, and recently I've been thinking of -also this was kind of for yandere purposes too actually lmao- Reader having a technique along the lines of "Cursed Memory Manipulation"
You can manipulate curses just like Geto, only you do it by affecting their memories into thinking you're an ally or friend or master or whatever gets them to obey. There are limits, but if it's some mindless creature, you're basically a Pokemon trainer. But I was thinking, can you imagine being his classmate who he has way too much depression to fully pay attention to, he's eating less, he's losing weight, losing sleep, and one day you're eating lunch near him and see he's struggling to keep food down, and he leaks vague details about how he keeps thinking about the taste of curses and how food doesn't taste the same.
Here you are, genuinely wanting to help him, just casually like, "well, what if I take a bite of this food, and then when you take a bite, I put my memory of what it tasted like in your head while we eat together" and it's some spur of the moment idea that he's too tired to argue against you about, so he does it to humor you and get it over with and. It works? It actually works??? He can taste and the world is beautiful again?
Oh sure, it starts off sharing lunches with him, but he's basically unable to normally eat without you, so, he all but glues himself to you at all times so you can eat all your meals together. At his worst, a yandere Geto would just immediately outright insist on if not demand marriage, because how ELSE are you two going to share every meal together? He may even force you to cook for him to make the meals you two eat all the more special. You're just his little Patron Saint of Snacks who can actually give him an appetite again
And I guess as a bonus, the idea I was originally tacking the concept of Cursed Memory Manipulation onto was, vague but, it was the idea of, what if Reader is losing a fight and is at genuine risk of being killed and you use your technique to fill your attacker with memories of you, and maybe you don't exactly have time to think and it turns out to be something really personal, something really intimate, whatever can get this person or creature or curse or whatever to stop attacking you. Sukuna suddenly remembering you as an old flame who he suddenly has too many fond memories of fucking to simply kill you. Mahito stops himself from slicing you open when he's suddenly recalling playing all kinds of games with you, running around as kids, memories of a childhood that didn't exist yet appeals to his young heart.
It's also totally different but I've also thought about 1. What if Sukuna gets in Itadori and finds out the young man isnt all there when it comes to you with Sukuna absorbing some of Yuuji's feelings for you, and then when he jumps to, his current host, HE ALSO had feelings for you, so now Sukuna is like secondhand driven mad with yandere fever and 2. What if after Kenjaku bodysnatches Geto, he runs into you again one day and all of Suguru's repressed and Strong STRONG feelings for you start surging forth and Kenjaku just HAS to keep you around as his new pet at the very least because he just can't shake all these new obsessive thoughts and the literal goosebumps he gets when he looks at you
#yandere jjk#yandere x reader#yandere suguru geto#suguru x reader#i dunno what tags people use for him#sinprompts#yandere stuff
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