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overnowsfcb · 2 months

Text

DUST.

summary. sometimes love can't solve everything in this world.

pairing. pablo gavi x fem!reader

warnings. angst, cheating, brief mention of sexual content so mdni.

word count. 1,383

author's note. hiii!!! everyone i came back. this was requested but i accidentally deleted it, so i don't know if it's completely what you wanted, sorry :(

He was acting strange. Pablo was one of those people who hated to fail, whether it was himself, his beloved team, his family, and within all that twisted and distorted pyramid in search of perfection, there you were, at the top of the pyramid with a golden crown and a throne decorated with your favorite flowers.

The love of his life. The person he dreamed of marrying and, well, what an average person might dream of being with such an angelic and magnetic woman like you. Having children, pets, a very large house with a yard and blah, blah, blah. The typical 'and they lived happily ever after'.

Although fairy tales are just that, right? Fables created for children, where everything is possible, and dreaming costs just the snap of your fingers or closing your eyes and letting yourself go.

But when adulthood hits you hard, and you enter the cruel and wicked world where stories are ripped from your skin and that special shell you had for dreaming, almost like taking the shell off a turtle, you end up defenseless. Looking at the world painted with a layer of grey staining every single thing.

And you knew that Pablo was not an average person and never would be in his life, thanks to his career and the scrutiny on him, which led him to make quick and sometimes very wrong decisions.

The pressure from the media, and his inner circle, and meeting each of the expectations placed upon him was too difficult.

Not to mention the moment he suffered his injury. God, you prayed and cried by his side, embracing him and assuring him that everything would be okay, that he would be better thanks to his resilience and passion.

But it wasn't enough to fill that immense void that consumed him and deteriorated his organs like a parasite as he watched his teammates and friends on the field while he, with the little luck he had run with, had to sit and watch from the stands.

He needed something at that time, something he believed would solve his problems. Just once, he told himself, and y/n doesn't even have to find out.

He had been very cautious about it, arranging the time and place with one of the many models filling his Instagram messages (something he always deleted because he was never interested in anyone but you), and he met with her in a luxurious and reserved hotel.

A blonde girl, green eyes. Tight red dress and plump lips. Just out of a magazine.

But when he came in a condom and not in your sweet, angelic little pussy, his beloved pussy, he felt all that adrenaline drop like a brick. What the hell are you doing, Pablo?

She didn't even compare to you, damn it, her moans didn't even sound like music to his ears, her body didn't feel right against his. But it was already too late for regrets.

It was too late to look into your eyes and not feel like he had failed you in the worst possible way, the person he loved the most.

That the mistake made was by his own hand, planned and contemplated beforehand. It almost sounds like a murder, Your Honor, I plead guilty, but that's how you felt when you began to notice the distance he was putting between the two of you.

How the comfortable silences turned uncomfortable, making your stomach twist forcefully, inducing nausea as you overthought about your recent encounters. Where did I go wrong to reach this point?

Your justification was that perhaps he was going through a complicated emotional period and didn't want to bother you. Yeah, it must be that.

“Baby.” You called him with the typical nickname, not changing your sweet tone of voice or your smile. “Hey, you're kinda lost.” You said, releasing a small awkward laugh, placing your hand on his knee and stroking it with your thumb, a silent prayer. C'mon, baby, come back to me.

“Hm?” He responded with his eyebrows slightly raised as he turned his gaze towards where you were sitting beside him on the couch, with your cat in your lap. “Sorry, didn't catch you.”

“Oh,” You stroke the fluffy fur of your cat, trying to keep your voice from faltering. “It doesn't matter.” You said after a few seconds of pondering whether to keep paddling against the tide. Was it really worth spending your energy?

“Tell me, y/n, I said sorry.” His voice sounded impatient and frustrated, another stab to your heart.

“Sorry doesn't fix the way you've been treating me lately, Pablo.” You finally decide to address the elephant in the room, staring at him intently dropping the bomb between both of you.

Your cat meowed, sensing the change in the atmosphere.

He got up from the couch, starting to pace around, you had simply caught him off guard.

“Please, tell me if I did something wrong and I didn't notice.” You pleaded, your cat meowed again, this time getting off your lap onto the floor. You felt your chest tightening again, you didn't even have the warmth of your furball anymore, you felt like you were about to drown.

"No," he suddenly said, kneeling in front of you and wrapping your hands around his. "I… I failed you, y/n."

Please, Lord, tell me it isn't what I'm thinking right now. It echoed in your head, your eyelids shut tightly, trying to wake up from such a nightmare, digging your nails into his palms.

"I'm so sorry, mi amor. It was... It meant nothing to me." He tried to excuse himself, getting closer to you. He couldn't keep his eyes off your face, he needed to look at you to know you wouldn't slip away from him. "Say something, please…”

“I— I don't even know what to say,” you stutter, trying to process what had just been said as your eyes brimmed with tears you sought to contain. You withdrew your trembling, sweat-soaked hands from theirs, ironically, when all that remained of the two of you were ashes of your hearts. “I thought we didn't keep secrets.”

“I know, babe. Please… I want you to trust me that you're my whole life, the one I love, I can't be without you,” he begged, gripping the side of your thighs lightly. You looked into his eyes, seeking honesty, and genuinely, you managed to find it.

But that didn't alleviate all your doubts that were pounding your mind like a hammer.

“Then why did you do it?” The million-dollar question, you waited for his answer allowing him to continue touching you, because although it might not be the right thing to do, deep down in your heart you believed you could forgive him if you heard the answer you wanted to hear.

“It has a stupid reason behind it, I wanted something new, adrenaline. I thought that would make me feel… some thrill. But all I felt after I did it was… shame.” He explained.

“Look at me, Pablo.” You cupped his cheeks, making him look into your eyes, trying to find that sparkle. “Promise me you didn’t feel nothing, promise me you didn’t even think about doing it again.”

He nodded, resting his hands on yours. “I promise, my love.” His voice trembled, you saw how his eyes were filled up with tears he tried to contain. “I just want you.”

You look away and nod. “I believe you...” You didn't wanna look at him when saying your next words, knowing you'll shatter his heart. But he shattered yours first, right? We're even, I guess. “But I need time.”

“I… I understand.” He said, the room spinning around you both.

“I'll call you when I feel better, okay?” You gave him a tight-lipped smile, caressing the back of his hand, memorizing his soft skin as you watched him nod.

He grabbed your hands again and pushed them against his lips, pressing them with his eyes closed. “I love you, princess.” He stood up and you looked up at him from the couch. "Don't ever forget that."

A part of you wanted to hug him and tell him to stay. But you knew you needed to heal to forgive such a thing, so you just nodded. “Take care.” You whispered.

He disappeared from your sight, you closed your eyes and leaned against the couch. The sound of the door closing made the tears go down your cheeks, leaving patterns of your shattered heart evident on your face.

Guess the fairytale came to dust, and the butterflies died with a blow of wind.

#pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #football x reader #football angst #football imagine #gavi x reader #pablo gavi angst

197 notes · View notes

mitziholder · 2 months

Note

Can you talk more about my lesbian experience with loneliness pretty please

ok. It’s dog shit written as the salve of a deranged narcissist’s ego.

I am sick of things being lauded as revolutionary and important just because they’re Real - Real and Honest. honest does not mean good. memoirs are works like any other. they have their biases and a point to make and goals to achieve. I can read into their content and criticize their handling of it and the goals and motivations of the “characters” therein. and, believe it or not, I am not in the business of clapping for wannabe rapists just because they were so far gone they thought that hiring a prostitute was an essential expression of their adult autonomy and independence (and Female Power and Sexuality blah blah blah blah blah)

boo-hoo. poor me. I had anxiety and depression and an eating disorder and I self-harmed and and and I was the most pathetic sad little worm on the planet. I was so sad and so lonely. and now I have put it out there into the world - seeking absolution from an army of people who think that what I did was fine because I put it all on display - and you can’t criticize it because it is so real. if you criticize it, you’re afraid of dark and uncomfortable subject matter. if you criticize it, you just didn’t get it. (on that note, I would say that I got it better than the author. the portrayal of that prostitute really says it all. lol. lmao.)

really, why should I give a shit about the pity party therapy session of a woman who used her own pain as a justification for exploiting another human being, who contributed to the sex industry, whose only fear was of disappointing her parents and only shame was the fact that she was too inhibited to really enjoy the experience? why should I support and uphold the work of a person who did that and then profited off of it? why should I appreciate the cultural contributions of someone whose perspective on Lesbianism is a purely self-indulgent affirmation of what people already imagine to be true: that we’re mentally unstable, dysfunctional sex perverts?

I wouldn’t clap for Jimmy Swaggart, either.

I am not going to say that I hope she dies but I’m ending the sentence there.

#ask

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lipstickghoulie · 5 months

Text

Reconciliation

(Astarion/female reader)

This was written because of the breeding kink challenge on an Astarion server!

Mature content, minors DNI. Mentions of the ascension ritual and Astarion ascending, breeding kink, unprotected p in v, cum and pre-cum, praise and more.

It’s over. The city saved, the nether brain defeated, good prevails over evil yet again… Blah blah blah. Revelry has consumed the city for the past week, celebrations overtaking the streets before the rubble even cleared and before most repairs are even under way. Hells, there’s still chunks of mind flayers tentacles littering the gutters and pieces of destroyed nautiloid ships bobbing up and down in the murky, Foundry-polluted water by the docks and yet, all that anyone can seem to focus on is celebrating their near-brush with death and the glorious aftermath. Not that you can blame them, exactly, especially when even your most stoic companions seem to be embracing the excuse to unwind and accept the accolades from the citizens of Baldur’s Gate.

But you? You’re numb to it all, have been even before the last killing blow to the brain. You’ve lost too much, been fighting for too long and you feel like you’ve made too many mistakes as a result of being bone-tired and mentally exhausted for weeks. Why else would you have gone along with it when Astarion wanted to ascend? At the time, when he was looking at you from underneath the fan of his lashes, imploring you with that soft “please” that spoke of the years that he had spent helpless and afraid, it had seemed like an obvious choice. Like when you had given him the book of necromancy at his request; you had only ever wanted to help him, give Astarion every tool he needed to feel less scared and like he could defend himself against anyone who ever wanted to hurt him again.

The reality of letting loose seven thousand spawn that seemed more feral than anything and who seemed to have a personal grudge against your lover seemed like the frosting on the cake of personal justifications to let him go ahead with the ritual.

In the aftermath though, when Astarion suddenly seemed so distant when he wasn’t spouting off his cartoonishly terrible plans for the future, when he was suddenly rambling about taking over the city and even the world when this power was just supposed to be about keeping him safe… well, suffice it to say that with every passing moment, your stomach sank further and you had started to realize that you had made a huge mistake that you couldn’t fix or take back. That maybe in the process of making sure that he could never be hurt again, you had hurt him worse than anyone by giving someone who was not ready for it such dark, terrible power.

You tried your best to ignore it, ignore him and focus on coming preparations for the coming battle but Astarion made that impossible when he cornered you after dinner one night at the Elfsong and started doing that voice that you hated, the one that harkened back to when he had seduced you in the first place. All brittle performance, trite lines and paper thin smirks, no sincerity. It made your skin crawl and itch like being caught under a locust plague spell. How could he think that performance was what you wanted, especially after all this time and everything that you two had been through together? How could he think that you’d want this fake imitation of Astarion instead of the real thing? Even when he was moody, whiny or short-tempered, at least it was real.

Your irritation with the terrible play acting of seduction of love almost caused you to barely pay attention to the words themselves and when you did finally tune in what he was trying to convince you to do, you felt a trickle of ice ooze down your spine. He wanted to make you his spawn. Despite Astarion waxing on and on about how terrible it was to be a spawn since you had met him, despite you never showing any interest in being a vampire whatsoever, he wanted to shackle you to him as his slave. This was horrifying to the utmost degree. Needless to say, but you had refused most sternly and things had escalated into a cold and heartbreaking end of your relationship. You knew that he had a terrible propensity for cruelty so in the scheme of things, you felt like you had gotten off fairly easily since Astarion just rambled on about how you’d regret this and how ungrateful that you were. His tongue could cut and wound worse than any blade so you hoped this was a sign that the prickly but loving man that you had been so fond of was still buried in there somewhere but really, you suspected that maybe Astarion just truly didn’t care about you now that he had the power he always had craved. Maybe you really were just a means to an end all along. The thoughts made tears sting at the back of your eyes but there was no time to let them fall and be self indulgent in your grief.

Thankfully, you hadn’t had much time between the breakup and the final battle to think about Astarion and your future without him at all. He seemed unaffected and snarky about it, still declaring loudly how excited he was to create his army of spawn and coat the city in fog, how no one would ever be able to tell him what to do ever again. It quieted down slightly when Karlach remarked that it seemed like Astarion was happy to follow in the shoes of his former master and that she was glad that you had gotten out while you could, though his face was murderous even while his mouth remained shut.

He was useful in the coming fights, you’d give him that much. Still always protecting your blind spots as well as he had when you were together, still quick as lightning to slip his daggers in between the ribs of any enemy who let their guards down for even a moment. Astarion’s new powers seemed to fill him with a childish glee even in the midst of destroying the Emperor and fighting off the group’s former dream guardians.

Still, he had disappeared before the smoke had even cleared when the nether brain was slain and the city saved. You imagined he was probably out having reckless nights of debauchery, creating spawn from the beautiful and grateful Baldurians out there celebrating the end of the apocalypse itself. While the thought filled you with no small amount of jealousy and sorrow, you hoped that he was happy… if Astarion was even capable of it, in his current state.

You certainly didn’t feel like you were capable of happiness, at least not right now. You had the use of the rooms at the Elfsong for another couple of weeks, at least, so while your friends headed out on their respective journeys (or engaged in their own small amounts of celebration before doing so), you mostly stayed in bed or the bath, alternating between staring blankly at the ceiling or slipping into bouts of fitful slumber.

You were trying to fall into one of those such sleeps now, facing the wall with your back to the rest of the room, tears trailing silently down your cheeks as you finally let yourself mourn. Mourn the end of the only love that you had ever known, the one that you had looked forward to spending the rest of your life with. You and Astarion had never discussed the future since even killing Cazador had seemed like such an impossible feat for such a long time to him but secretly, hadn’t you thought that you’d adventure together or at least be together in some capacity when this was all over?

You had presumed too much and now it felt like losing a limb, like-

The bed dipped as something, someone, pressed down on the mattress behind you. You freeze but the familiar scents of bergamot, brandy and rosemary clue you in to who it is before you have to worry about any bold intruders. Arms wrap around your midsection firmly as they have dozens of times before. As if they’d never left at all.

“Missed me?” Astarion murmured into your ear before burying his face in your hair and taking a long, shaky exhale, as if the smell of the shampoo you used would help ground him. “You should be flattered to know that I missed you, little love.”

His voice had an air of practiced airiness, like this is just a normal conversation between two lovers. But the veneer was brittle and so thin that you know you’d see through it easily if you turned to look at him. You don’t though, a bit at a loss for how to handle this. There wasn’t a Volo guide on what to do if your powerful vampire ex-boyfriend tried to snuggle with you.

You finally said evenly and wryly, “I’m surprised you thought of me at all. I thought you’d be out creating an army of spawn across the city so they could build your murder pits and do your bidding.”

“Hmmm, yes, well, I would have done that but it’s such slim pickings these days, what with so many casualties from the battles and all-“ Astarion began to say, voice as sardonic as always but maybe you’ve had enough. You’re not in the mood for wordplay and dancing around subjects that make him uncomfortable, not any more. If you don’t owe each other anything, if you’re not together any more, why should you let him have humor and sarcasm as a shield like you always have?

You interrupted him sharply, your voice ringing out as true and cutting as any paladin’s shining sword, “Tell the truth or leave. I mean it, Astarion.”

The heaviest kind of silence stretched between you both for what felt like several minutes before Astarion sighed in resignation, his grip tightening on you as if he was scared that someone would try to take you away.

“I tried to make some moves to sire some spawn the first night that I left. I went to a tavern across town, found someone who seemed like they wouldn’t be missed. Easy, right? The sort of thing I’ve done so much that I should be able to do it in a trance. However… they tried to kiss me before my fangs ever got close to their neck and I couldn’t do it. My stomach rolled, nausea took over and I… threw up,” Astarion admitted hollowly, shame and disgust coloring his tone. You didn’t have to look at him to know how embarrassed that he was, both at the event itself and at having told you about it.

Your former paramour seemed to be waiting to see if you’d laugh at him or say something insulting but you don’t, feeling a stab of pity for Astarion despite everything, despite how difficult he could be. You hadn’t really relished the idea of him creating a legion of vampire groupies in general but it still must have been humiliating for him to vomit in front of some stranger.

When you didn’t comment on it, Astarion carried on his tale, his words reverting back to their usual sarcasm a bit even as he tried to be sincere. “So, two centuries of trauma doesn’t disappear overnight, as it turns out. Who knew? Anywaaaays, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past couple of days and I realized that I’ve never had that reaction with you since I trust you, since I lo… like you. And maybe I didn’t truly want spawn after all.”

Clever fingers that could take apart the most intricate of locks at the Counting House in minutes moved from your sides down to your hips, rubbing circles there through the thin material of your nightgown. You shivered and you felt him huff out a chuckle before he continued talking, “Maybe what I don’t want is servants and people who will tell me whatever I want to hear. Maybe what I needed all along was the one woman who I could believe in, who believed in me enough in return to give me all of this power. You and I are destined to be together, to make each other happy…”

You’d relaxed under Astarion’s touch, your spine less stiff and defensive as you listened to his rambling. You were still angry at him but gods, you’d missed him after all. And despite his obvious attempts at flattery, he still sounded like the man you had fallen for. Maybe it wasn’t the ritual that had changed him as much as it was Astarion’s own hunger for power and arrogance at finally having it.

“We did break up though,” You couldn’t help but point out in a quiet murmur.

Astarion seemed to choose to ignore that.

“You know, what I really think would be better than an army of spawn is fucking a baby into you,” Astarion remarked almost idly. As if he was suggesting something as mundane as popping down to the shops. “That’s a better legacy than having to teach some simpering nobodies how to hunt and make sure they don’t kill the wrong people. I know that you and I would both enjoy it more-“

You shot up in the bed and finally turned to face him, your eyes wide and disbelieving. Astarion looked as beautiful as he ever did, hair perfectly coiffed and and his heavy brocade outfit without a thread out of place. The only sign that anything was remiss was the even heavier bags under his eyes that spoke of days without rest and filled with an insurmountable amount of stress.

“What are you talking about?! You are undead, you can’t have a child and we are not together!” You rattled off in succession, your tone disbelieving at Astarion’s audacity. “Did the ascension scramble your fucking brains?”

The idiot has the nerve to bat his eyelashes at you as if you’ve offended him and as if he’s the injured party here. Gods alive, you wanted to strangle him more than you ever had before and that was saying something.

“Language, my treasure,” Astarion admonished lightly, though he changed tack and went on to explain quickly when he saw signs of your temper rising in your expression. “I’ve spent some time skimming Cazador’s notes and, it seems that an ascendant vampire should be as virile as any man. Maybe even more so…”

His hands gently pushed you down onto the bed as he moved to lay nearly on top of you, Astarion’s eyes turning from nervous to sultry in an instant. His head moved forward enough to press slow, lingering kisses along the edge of your face and jaw until his mouth was near your ear. He muttered softly, “Don’t you want to put it to the test with me? It’ll be even better than old times. My stamina is improved with my new powers and I imagine that extends to the boudoir. I could leave you sore and leaking my seed, stuffing you full over and over again until it takes… and even more after that just to be certain…”

For a moment, your face flamed with heat as you considered it. You didn’t know that you might have a breeding kink before this moment but hells, you hadn’t known you had one for praise either before you had bedded Astarion. You almost let yourself imagine it for a moment, being taken and stuffed full of his cum repeatedly, your core practically pulsing with sheer, unadulterated need at the thought of it. But then you backed away, as much as you could with Astarion crowding you in on this bed, and shook your head slowly. He frowned deeply and pulled you back down so your back was to him again, his arms restraining you in a fierce hug.

You couldn’t see his face but this was a small sacrifice. You hoped this meant that Astarion had given up on this harebrained idea for now, had settled for cuddles instead. You had no such luck though as he started up the conversation yet again less than a minute later.

His voice had some of that wheedling tone that it used to take sometimes when he wanted something and you were being difficult (which, in Astarion’s mind, was seemingly whenever you wouldn’t give in to his demands immediately and enthusiastically).

“And why can’t you give me this? You’ve been saying you love me for ages but you wouldn’t let me turn you into a vampire and now you won’t even let me breed you,” Astarion whined against the back of your neck, his arms closing in even further around your midsection as he grinds himself against your back. Even through all of your layers of clothing, you could feel him, hard and needy. You almost felt like you could feel the faintest hint of dampness, like he had precum soaking through his breeches, as if his cock was trying to convince you to give in too. If you weren’t so annoyed, it would be enough to make your own body respond in kind but as it is, you just huffed out an irritated sigh. How was he so turned on already just at the thought of this?!

“We are broken up-“ You stressed again, voice firm and cold, but the words cut off when one of his hands slipped underneath the waistband of your underwear and beelined for your center. Astarion gathered some of the wetness that you hadn’t even realized was there on the pads of his fingertips and smoothly worked it over your clit as you choked on a very undignified and startled sputtering noise. You couldn’t see his reaction but you could feel his pout morphing into a smirk against your skin before he planted a very smug, sensual kiss next to where your pulse was jumping wildly in your neck.

Airily, Astarion replied, “Are we, darling? Doesn’t seem to be the case right now. At least your body seems to want me, despite your silly little protests.”

You opened your mouth to argue further but the words fled from you in a hurry as Astarion reached down with his other hand and tore the fabric of your simple cotton panties away, the sound of stitches ripping unbelievably loud in the near quiet of the room. The fingers that were massaging your clit moved down to your opening and sunk in, two of them, your pussy offering no resistance at all. They sunk in as if to a warm bath after a long day; all liquid, welcoming heat. You whimpered and found yourself spreading your legs so he could thrust them in more easily.

How quickly you had given in to him! After everything he had done, after all of the stupid things that he had said. All it took was a few muttered words in your ear and his fingers delving into you and you were Astarion’s again. You’d be ashamed if you weren’t so eager to feel him making you feel amazing all over again.

“Please, please,” Astarion rasped desperately against the shell of your ear, one of his fangs glancing against the skin as he humped more furiously into your lower back. You could definitely feel more damp; his dick had to be dripping pre-cum by now and absolutely ruining his pretty clothing. “Please tell me that you want me, want this. That you want me to fuck you so thoroughly that you forget what it’s like to not be dripping my cum. Need this, need you, tell me that you need this too.”

Both of you were losing any semblance of composure so fast that it’s like it was never there at all. Astarion prodded at a spot inside of you that made you keen and grab at one of his forearms hard enough that it would have hurt him before but he didn’t even acknowledge it now.

You barely had time to gasp out a “yes, I want this, want you” before Astarion was yanking his fingers back out of you unceremoniously. You looked at him with eyes brimming with upset at the loss but you were soothed by him manhandling you onto your back, treating you with the sight of him lapping away at the digits that had been inside of you with a pleased expression that would be more at home on the face of someone enjoying their favorite meal. You watched, spellbound, as Astarion licked your arousal off of his fingers and leaned forward to introduce your own taste to your waiting mouth. The tang of it didn’t phase you and you met his lips eagerly, kissing each other as if you’d spent decades apart instead of mere days. You feel him rucking your night gown up further until it’s uselessly over your stomach and during this time, Astarion must have undone his breeches since you jolted as you suddenly felt his cockhead slap wetly down on your clit.

A groaning sound broke out of you at the motion and Astarion grinned, his teeth showing as ferally and triumphantly as if you had begged him and not the other way around. He gripped the base of his shaft hard enough for you to be briefly concerned about his penis and slowly trailed his cock down to where your arousal dripped and beckoned him in, tracing the slit at the top of his dick teasingly over your lower lips.

“Aw, looks like you did miss me,” Astarion crooned condescendingly, his eyes bright with a mixture victory, relief and desire so wild and powerful that it would put druids to shame. “Don’t worry, I’ll always take care of you, my pretty girl. You know you’re the only one for me, forever and always.”

You didn’t get much more warning than that before he pushed into your pussy, every vein and curve of his cock dragging along your sensitive walls the whole way in. Your hands scrabbled at his back, mindful of the raised lines of his scars under your fingertips, as a gasp punched its way out of your lungs at the forceful but arousing entry. Astarion pulled his body back a little to watch his cock bully its way into you, his gaze heated and enraptured, mouth agape a bit at the beautiful sight.

“Gods, you feel good. I was so stupid for letting you end things. This is where my cum belongs,” Astarion groaned out, voice cracking as pushed forward into you again easily. You’re both so wet from your combined arousal that the lewd noises coming from your coupling are almost loud enough to drown out his words, his balls moving against your skin in another cacophony of carnal noise.

You squeaked as he reached down and rubbed at the ridge of your clit again, the sensation nearly too much as he fucked you into the mattress. Your back arched underneath him, Astarion’s dick plunged into you as your juices slicked your upper thighs and still, he wouldn’t stop talking.

“Going to fill you up so well, darling, we’ll never be apart again. You’ll be so stuffed with me, forever, always at my side and being such a good fucking girl for me,” Astarion growled, his eyes flicking up from where your pussy was getting thoroughly rammed by him to make intense eye contact instead.

This should scare you. It should freak you out a bit how possessive that Astarion is, how afraid that he is that you’ll leave him or go somewhere where he can’t reach you that he’d anything to keep you shackled to him. It occured to you now that he’s probably spent this time apart anxious and worried over what the next steps could be to wriggle his way back into your life and bereft of any other ideas, he had arrived on knocking you up. You should probably be more annoyed than you are but right now, your lust is running the show and besides… you always knew that your love wasn’t good at planning.

A few more presses of his cock into you, the veins on the shaft shiny under the torchlight in the room on every pull out of your cunt, and you’re orgasming violently, your blunt nails scraping up his spine as he didn’t slow down. Even as you clenched and trembled around him and cried out his name, Astarion increased his pace until he was panting and near to cumming himself.

“So fucking good for me, so good to me. I love you, I love you-“ Astarion gasped loudly, his hands leaving angry-red bruising imprints of his finger tips on your hips as he thrust into you. Then you felt it, felt the hot ropes of cum splattering the insides of your cunt, the temperature change jarring compared to the coolness of the vampire’s flesh. You flinched at how long the act of cumming seemed to go on, the extreme volume of it making it so that you felt the pearly drops spilling out of you around where you both still connected even before he pulled out. You were truly flooded with his seed now, able to feel it painting the soft skin of your upper thighs as well as the sore but happy sleeve of your pussy.

Astarion slumped over you after he carefully disengaged his cock from you, his breath hitching as he did so even though he didn’t need to breath. His forehead bumped against yours and he hummed for a few moments before he asked you, unsure and needy for reassurance, “Are we… okay? Are we back together now?”

You sighed in a way that showed that you were exasperated but you pressed your forehead back against his regardless. Who were you fooling? Ascension or not, this moron was yours and you were his. You’d always figure things out with him, one way or another. You loved him and maybe that was enough.

“Yeah. We’re back together.”

Astarion’s face brightened at your words and his head dipped down to kiss you, languidly, his lips and fangs rubbing against your mouth in a way that showed his contentment now that things were settled.

“Good. I’ll give you a few minutes and then I’m fucking my cum back into you,” Astarion said without preamble, a smirk as slow as a grease cantrip taking over his face.

Ah. It seemed that he was serious about trying for a family. Your cheeks turned a rosy, pinkish hue at the thought all over again.

Well, what was the worst that could happen? The chances of this actually happening were probably low anyways, right?

…right?

#astarion x female reader #astarion smut #Astarion breeding kink challenge #astarion fanfic #my writing #my fanfiction

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schraubd · 10 months

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Jews Against Jews Who Discriminate

This is an interesting story about a New Jersey kosher bakery who refused to bake rainbow-frosted cupcakes because the baker decided Pride-themed events violated his conception of Jewish values. This decision, in turn, has led to a furious backlash from the rest of the local Jewish community, who are livid that the baker is citing Jewish values as justification for homophobic discrimination:

Multiple rabbis have accused the baker of bigotry, and some local Jews are boycotting his shop. The area’s Jewish federation privately said it would stop buying from Mittel before publicly walking back its position. And Eshel, an advocacy group for LGBTQ Orthodox Jews and their families, announced an “ally training” in West Orange this coming Sunday in response to the incident.

[....]

The issue blew up as other rabbis in the area learned about what happened and commented publicly.

“When we refuse basic Jewish services to members of our community who are articulating who they are, we are excluding and dividing,” wrote Robert Tobin, rabbi of the Conservative B’nai Shalom in West Orange, in a blog post on June 22. He highlighted the Conservative movement’s recent strides toward LGBTQ inclusion, and an interpretation of the Torah that holds “humans are created in the image of God with a variety of potential gender identities and with the possibility of gender fluidity.” Tobin also reportedly addressed the incident in a sermon, according to the New Jersey Jewish News.

David Vaisberg, senior rabbi at the independent Temple B’nei Abraham in Livingston, New Jersey, tweeted that he was “so disappointed” in the bakery, which is located in a strip mall next to a kosher Chinese restaurant.

“They make great baked goods but have shown themselves to be against the LGBTQ+ in canceling orders of rainbow baked goods in Pride month,” he wrote, adding that he was letting the bakery know why they had lost his business and advised followers to “please do the same.”

This reminded me of a working paper I heard about from years back (which I don't believe has been published, unfortunately), where the author asked Jewish, Christian, and Muslim respondents to give their views regarding government accommodations for Jewish, Christian, or Muslim business owners who for religious reasons did not want to serve gay customers. The most fascinating finding, as I recall, was that Jews were least likely to support an accommodation if they were told it was a Jewish business seeking to discriminate.

At one level, that was a surprising finding -- we'd naturally expect Jews (like all other groups) to display some level of in-group bias, being more sympathetic to claims made by their coreligionists. But on another level, this result made perfect sense to me. Ask me in the abstract about whether business owners can claim a religious exemption from having to serve gay customers, and I'll generally answer no, but I'll acknowledge the important religious freedom and pluralism concerns blah blah blah.

But if somebody asks to do that while carrying my flag and representing my people? Oh, hell no. Screw that guy. You get your ass back into line and stop embarrassing the tribe with your homophobic nonsense. And I suspect something similar is going on in this community of New Jersey Jews.

via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/MnOubxC

#discrimination #homophobia #Jews #New Jersey

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dairy-farmer · 17 days

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After checking the Hentai Tropes page for inspiration? I'ma combine two!

First? You know what Gotham has a CONCERNING number of? Cults. And those weirdos sure do love to go all "sacrifice our enemies for poetic blahdy blah!". It's a problem. What's a BIGGER problem is Robin getting captured for Virgin Sacrificing, just.... CONSTANTLY.

Dick handled that on his own, Jason wasn't by the time they met, and Tim? Tim still is. Which means Bruce has to talk about it. Make a list of options ahead of time for him. Which is his own person HELL. Because? His paranoia keeps getting the better of him.

Who can he trust? Who isn't some convoluted Villian plant or in the underworld's pocket? Is garuteed clean. Will take care of Tim. Not traumatize him for life. Not spread this to the newspapers. Not-. So forth and so on. The list of Viable options shrinking and shrinking. Until it's basically him and Dick.

And he can't ask DICK to do this! It's... morally questionable.

So he... handles it.

Pulls Tim aside. Small and trusting. Warm and hanging off his every word. Feels like a pervert, as he explains. Shudders as Tim see nothing amiss. Believes his paper thin justifications. Legitimate as they may be. Guides Tim into one of the nap rooms in the cave.

Is so, so careful with him.

It's perverse. Tim's little squirms and gasps. The way he clings. Asks if he's "doing it right". What can Bruce do? But lean into him. Loom. Whisper instruction and praise. He's doing so well. Spread just a bit wider. Take just a bit more. That's it. Good boy. Good Robin.

He takes him so well.

Bruce barely seems to fit. Tim gasping for air, his insides full in a way he's never felt before. Dripping with wet and lubricant. A soaked mess that paints his little thighs. Guts rearranged to make room, everything grinding and rubbing so good. Bruce makes sure to grind his thumb against that little clit. Rock slow, to get his used to it.

Soon has him scrambling at Bruce's arm's. Franticly begging for it, as Bruce snaps his hips, in and out without mercy. A drooling, teary, little mess, overwhelmed by how good it feels to get fucked. Bruce promised himself. He did. That he'd stop at Tim's orgasm. Gentle for his first time.

But his magnificent little hole milks him like nothing has in years.

He drags several out of Tim's poor virgin body. Leaving him shaking, begging to rest. But he ruts one last time before cumming deep. Dragging Tim up to squeeze tight. Bury his face in that precious little head of hair. His boy. His Robin. His, his, his.

Tim, predictably passes out from exhaustion. While Bruce cleans him up. Touch kinder and more possessive then before. They move on. Neither talking about it. Because Bruce won't LET them. It's fine.

Then? Titans tower. Injuries.

The difference? This time Tim ALSO got a blow to the head. Troupe two! He wake up with Amnesia! Gasp! Doctors say it's temporary! But? How long is temporary? An hour? A week? A few years? What DOES he remeber?

That Bruce is "important to his life" and his Boyfriend, obviously!

People go apeshit.

Bruce damage controls like a badass. Spins like weavers WISH they could. Manages to take Tim home before anyone can ask any clarifying questions. HE asks the clarifying questions. Tim remembers they slept together.

Fuck.

Bruce goes to correct him. But Tim... hugs him first. Is so, so grateful he's HERE. Would be so SCARED and LOST without him. And...it....it's a small lie... right? Tim will figure things out on his own. This is fine.

But of course.

They're BOYFRIENDS... aren't they?

Why won't Bruce touch him? Is he mad? Did Tim do something wrong? Cuddling is nice and all... but...

So it's either come clean or fuck his son. And Bruce? Well he couldn't forget how GOOD it felt. How bad he wants it. So he Makes Love to his boyfriend of course. Kissing, licking, sucking, pinching, and fucking right through the mattress.

It jostled some things loose, as it were. Tim remembers more.

But? Keeps it to himself.

Because he has Bruce paying attention to him now. There is an unknown child, Bruce's biological son, now in the house. He needs to Plot. Can afford to let the kid be Robin for a bit. Play amnesiac househusband/bedwarmer. All he needs to do? Is get Bruce hopelessly addicted to him. THEN "remember".

He has a plan.

Tim is GOING to marry that trainwreck and get fucked on the regular or so help him, somebody dies. Now, time to go win over the blood son...

-🐼🐼🐼

amnesia trope is soooo good!!! bruce taking tim's virginity to protect him and then never speaking about it again and then tim only being able to remember that until his memories come back and he decides that actually he's going to stick with this and be bruce's wife

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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thousandyearphantombunker · 29 days

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“The titan said Belos is evil tho! Are you stupid the show said he was evil!”“Masha said lil’ bro just got jelly that his brother got a girlfriend! He doesn’t have depth and his ending was supposed to be unsatisfying!”“But James Ironwood losing his arm is supposed to represent him losing his humanity”“Jason Rose said that James could’ve always become evil and sided with Salem”“They literally called him genocide general!”“But in this Q&A they said the puppies survived they just lost their laser powers! And in the tie-in material, they showed everyone was fine! You just hate Starco!”“The show/tie-in material/a fucking Q&A said blah blah blah!”These arguments are shit. TOH- “God says witches are evil so it is his duty to kill them!” is a pretty horrible justification for killing someone except when the titan says it to Luz. I don’t think Luz is in the wrong for killing Belos, he was a genocidal maniac and child abuser and genuinely irredeemable- nobody who hates the ending of The Owl House complains about Belos being irredeemable, they complain about the show flopping the cult critical message, how hunter’s possession felt like needless shock value, the show not properly setting up the collector or how the coven system/conformitorium’s writing is a mess or how Eda becoming a teacher makes as much sense as Toph becoming a cop and you can go ‘but the show said-’ what the show said had unfortunate implications, was uncomfortable to abuse survivors, and I can’t forgive the ass-pullery of the trailer-bait nightmare sequence or how in the hexside crew became irrelevant! When people complain about how Belos was handled nobody complains about him not getting a redemption arc- they complain that hunter should’ve been there to see belos die or how they hate Luz’s power up. RWBY -James Ironwood’s and Penny’s character arcs and deaths felt so ableist it’s actually uncomfortable to watch, I have ASD my sister, and like half of the people I know have PTSD, I don’t know any amputees but I’ve seen plenty making noise about how shit the writing was. Good, they should be mad! The show’s message about prosthetics/amputations was toxic! Not mention for all the hopeful messages Team RWBY screams at the top of their lungs about trust they knowingly broke Ironwood’s trust for very poorly defined reasons! while I do think ruthless pragmatism is a bad thing, team RWBY offered no alternatives, he wasn’t a villain- he was facing an ethical dilemma and got fucked over. And SVTFOE- I shouldn’t have to buy tie-in materials to understand the show- tie-in material should be a bonus not a supplement or requirement, I Don’t have to buy the ATLA comics inorder to understand the show, I don’t have to read all of Lord Of The Rings to understand the movies. It doesn’t matter how the show was supposed to be interpreted or how the audience is supposed to feel, and It’s perfectly valid for the audience not to care about damage control spinoffs (cough cough Steven Universe) or Q&A’s or whatever. I’ll admit sometimes the audience is fucking stupid and completely media illiterate but can we stop acting like anyone who doesn’t blindly consume product and go with what the writers said are stupid? I know im not articulating this well but I’m pissy rn and I’m having trouble deconstructing whats wrong with those kind of arguments but god there is so much wrong with these arguements

#fuck rt #Rwde #toh critical #svtfoe critical #I promise I'm not anti TOH I wrote a whole ass essay on the show because I love its depiction of disability for college #Also svtfoe is a comfort show #But can we admit that the writing is a mess #I used to love rwby but God the show fell from grace #As did rooster teeth as a whole #For such a woke show it sure was ableist!#ableism #Rant #Nerd rage

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pteropodidaes · 4 months

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it's been a while since i interacted with the marauders fandom, (like a month or two) but one recurring theme that i saw was the drastic recon of a lot of the slytherins in that era.

i remember when your main cast in your average marauders fic was mostly gryffindors, and then a lot of the antagonists were slytherins. barty and evan were almost always villains (bullies, toxic exes, etc) and regulus was an angst device for sirius. nowadays, the main cast is split into two main friend groups, gryffindors and slytherins. most gryffindors have a slytherin they're paired with (lily and dorcas [which btw i remember when dorcas was a gryffindor], james and regulus, etc etc). the slytherins all have family issues where their parents are blood purists and they don't agree with them and it's a whole thing blah blah blah

i like that there is more diversity in where the characters come from, but there is so much nuance that is stripped of these characters to make them all get along. regulus is the number one victim of this.

i've noticed there is a desire to make the characters people like morally good. they preach about grey characters, but when it comes down to it there is always a justification for the "bad" things they do. sometimes people do bad things because they believe bad things. regulus is a bad guy. he is a death eater, he gets the dark mark and everything. a lot of people write that regulus secretly agreed with sirius the whole time, but it makes it so much more interesting if sirius and regulus's morals actually clash instead of regulus just agreeing with his parents. i personally love when sirius and regulus are close in their childhood and then it changes as they both mature and find themselves.

i think if we look at the characters realistically, regulus barty and evan would never truly get along with people like james and sirius. they're both righteous people (ESPECIALLY james) who would not tolerate blood purism. and that's interesting to explore and to write! sirius watching his brother become a complete stranger who resents him because their morals conflict is so interesting!! you don't have to take away murky morals from a character so they can make out with your fav... which leads me to my next thing.

the jegulus boom. i remember when jegulus was a crack ship and now i think it's literally up there in popularity with wolfstar. i used to ship it as a joke, and in the beginning it was cute but honestly i don't see this ever being an actually healthy relationship. again, james has very strong morals and he would not tolerate regulus being a death eater. he would also ALWAYS choose sirius and he wouldn't stay in a relationship with someone who would cause sirius so much pain. there are a select few circumstances where i see them in a select few dynamics??? but i just don't see it happening.

it's sad because i feel like lily has been tossed aside for fandom's new bl ship. like i love wlw ships with all my heart but sometimes it seems like they come out of people wanting to do something with the canon female love interest. jily is such a beautiful and adorable ship, and the chemistry is honestly so much better than jegulus if i'm being honest. lily is also such an interesting character and you can still get your enemies to lovers fix out of jily. you don't need to compromise the morals of both james and regulus for your yaoi.

it always struck me as weird that these canon death eaters are suddenly heroes now, as in they never believed this shit at all and they're actually victims of their families and society and stuff. don't get me wrong, they definitely are, but it would be better if it wasn't just "i always thought this is wrong and i'm the rebel in my family!" people in these systems actually do get brainwashed and manipulated, and they do believe these things wholeheartedly.

i understand the whole thing with marauders is that there is no canon and you can do whatever you want, but sometimes the characters are just so flat. regulus is interesting to me because he was a bad person but he ultimately chose to sacrifice himself for something good. there's also the issue with changing the characters to the point where they're completely unrecognizable from canon. jkr is a shit writer, but that doesn't change the fact that james has been repeatedly described in canon as a righteous man with incredibly strong beliefs. he may have been a little shit, but never to the point where he would date a death eater. he literally pantsed one upside down and washed their mouth out with soap.

i'm also not saying the old fics were better. there used to be a LOTTT of inconsistency with the characterization of a lot of side characters like dorcas and mary and marlene. i love that the new fandom has given these characters a chance to shine. (well, the male ones at least...) i'm also also not saying that the slytherins should be just bad guys again. i feel like we've flopped from making them total assholes to angels that rebel a little bit.

i could honestly talk about the issues within the marauders fandom for literal hours, but the slytherins are something that has bothered me for a while now. don't be scared to make your skrunklies evil, they don't even have to be evil the whole time you can give them a killer redemption arc 👍

#this is messy i wrote it at midnight and i'm sick #we need to talk more about how everyone has done lily so dirty #ship who you want but objectively jily is better than jegulus idc #lily and james have more chemistry in their pinky toes than james and regulus do #harry potter #marauders #james potter #sirius black #lily evans #regulus black #anti jegulus

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lord-squiggletits · 7 months

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Another thing that gets me about Pharma's situation is a personal headcanon related to the way real life militaries work (I used to be really into the US military, don't throw tomatoes at me I stopped wanting to join it a long time ago) is that it's considered pretty much standard protocol to retrieve the bodies of fallen soldiers unless it's absolutely impossible. A literal "nobody is left behind" attitude.

Now granted, the LL isn't really acting in a military capacity because the war is over.

But I like to imagine that part of why Pharma felt so betrayed was because standard Autobot procedure would've been for any known missing/lost soldiers to be checked for, to try and find their body to confirm their death if nothing else. But the Autobots just left Messatine and left Pharma alone without even bothering to check if he lived or died. So to Pharma, it feels as if after all his years of serving the Autobots dutifully, they couldn't even do the bare minimum duty of looking for his body to confirm his death or god forbid give him proper funeral services.

Incidentally, this headcanon will be the premise for a "Pharma gets brought onto the Lost Light as a prisoner instead of getting left on Messatine" AU fic. With the justification being that Magnus hears about the Delphi situation and is like, wait you guys just left but the Autobot Code says we have to look for the body blah blah and I guess he acts annoying enough about it that someone goes looking for Pharma's body and finds him still alive.

INCIDENTALLY-incidentally, I think the most likely canon answer for "whether Pharma fell or flew to his death" is that Pharma fell. We see on screen that the Red Rust's symptoms activate within minutes of being triggered and that it renders victims practically nonfunctional after only a short amount of time (limbs and the entire body slowly disintegrating). So if Pharma had transformed, he would've activated the rust and died very quickly, especially since he wouldn't be able to go back to Delphi and access actual medical equipment.......and had his hands cut off so he was physically incapable of tending to himself anyways.

Pharma has thrusters on his heels that probably wouldn't require transformation to activate, so my headcanon is that Pharma was able to cushion his fall enough to not die, but probably still broke his legs and was in too much pain/practically immobile and couldn't crawl to find any help. This would also align with Pharma saying that Tyrest found him "sleeping in the snow" and Tyrest calling Pharma "a disease waiting to happen", implying that Pharma was infected with the Red Rust but hadn't actually triggered its effects yet.

#squiggposting #pharma apologism #you know one time when i was a kid i jumped too high off of a ladder on the playground and hit my feet too hard #the amount of pain i felt from the impact going up my legs and into my hips was literally the most painful thing i'd felt until that point #i was like gasping and heaving and just crawled under an overhang and curled up and waited for the pain to pass #later on i learned some more facts about how people die from falling to their death #did you know that if someone lands on their feet from falling too high #their thigh bones can be thrust up into their torso and they die of internal bleeding from their bones impaling their organs #anyways. in my mind that's what happened to pharma minus him bleeding to death. lol #though since pharma describes these events so euphemistically as him 'sleeping in the snow'#one must wonder if he literally did die and tyrest somehow used the magic of luna 1 to bring him back #also idk if the nobody left behind is just a usa thing. it's probably not #i just know that it's a point of pride for the us mil as like a comaraderie thing and a bragging point

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myrfing · 1 year

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ancients arent fascists and are far too fantastical to fit into any real political system but people tend to view them in the story in a bubble (which, they kind of are portrayed as such in-universe so w/e) when I don’t think their position in the story can be extricable from garlemald. amaurot is dead and gone by the very beginning of the game and are introduced in shb as a means to examine why/how. what they represent is an ideal upon which garlemald’s purpose is built. what matters is not that they were good or evil but that their mythical perfection was upheld and used as justification for what came after 👍 not saying that this is ALL they are but imo it’s a big old chunk of it. the goal of extermination based on innate traits is not to kill people for fun forever (though you could argue it becomes entwined) it’s the idea that if the only people existed in the world were the most intelligent, most able, most “whole” that the world would be at peace and there would no longer be conflict or great suffering.

one neat thing about EW is its deconstruction of this “mythical fatherland” type of paradise and one of my favorite examples of this is their depiction of ultima thule. if you google “ultima thule” you’ll find…lol a boatload of controversies surrounding its usage in stuff like band names because of its heavy ties with nazi mythos/symbology. it refers to a place “beyond the borders of a known world”, a mythical grecoroman-styled land to the north from which the perfect people once hailed, were lost, and to which the “true” people who adhere to the ideology must return. blah blah blah a lot of parallels to christian ideas of an immortal paradise. i’d like to think that the developers were aware and deliberate with this context considering how easily accessible it is! Thule in the game, when you reach it on the edge of the universe after you go through elpis (a temporary veneer of paradise) is a dead and stagnant land built as a cobbled together amalgamation of a bunch of dead civilizations and peoples who did not make it through “the test” that hermes in purposeful irony imposes on the ancients, who again, represent that ideal. instead of being a paradise, it’s a purgatory where everyone DOES live forever but as ghosts in a dead land scraped of everything that gave it meaning, that orbits a heavy and turgid cocoon of despair. the world that is “born” (everyone imagine imagery analysis here I’m too lazy) is miss endsinger’s wild neverending ride where there is no real substantial world where anything lives but instead an endless mish-mashed retrospective recollection of all the loss and terror it took to create it. i think this is very cool. It’s swagful

#also if i see another post going like If Your Friends And Family Were Turned Into 13 Chimapzai im legit going to just start putting ants.#on your open wounds. So many ants

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kingmagnificoofrosas · 4 months

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Hi! I’m so glad to see other Magnifico fans on here. I know the movie’s poor writing has been analyzed to death, but I just wanted to bring something up that I haven’t seen discussed anywhere else.

If Magnifico really was a bad guy from the beginning, and any benevolence or kindness we saw in him was just a facade, why would Amaya ever want a vulnerable, 17 year old girl to become his personal appearance??? I mean, that’s supposedly the justification for Amaya immediately turning her back on him, right? He’s always been an evil asshole, so eternal isolation is exactly what he deserves. Well… If this is the case, and deep down Amaya knows this, (“I’ve seen too many bad things”, blah blah) why would she intentionally put Asha in his line of fire? An apprenticeship requires Asha to work one-on-one with him on a regular basis. If the “always evil” characterization of Magnifico is true, then it means Amaya would happily leave her alone with a guy who is (supposedly) an abusive monster behind closed doors. I’m sorry, but “I was fooled” doesn’t cut it. You’ve seen him do “bad things”, and now you’re willing to sit back and possibly let more “bad things” happen to Asha?? This is no longer a matter of Amaya turning a blind eye to things she has no direct control over. If he was so horrible BEFORE the Forbidden Book, why would she EVER want Asha to be alone with him, for any reason??? It doesn’t make sense. I don’t even hate Amaya (I do ship them), I just think the script for this movie was a complete clusterf***.

Yes, exactly! Every single arguement that Magnifico is bad (a villain) falls. I'm glad we got him the way we did. He'll always be the good guy. 💙✨️

And I will never shut up rising attention to this!

#disney wish #wish 2023 #king magnifico #magnifico isn't a villain period!

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sevikasleftpussyflap · 2 years

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all these "annoying" ask are so sweet. so can we have a reader who can't sleep so they annoy sevika out of boredom 😭💕

also no rush— and i adore your writing <33

They are, it's consuming every thought in my head and I can't think of anything else abugnrugr (so sorry for the other late requests, i'm trying i swear)

Thank you for the compliment, I'm so glad you like my stuff! Thank you for the request :)

This woman is a sweltering heater and you are an icebox. She hates when you rub your cold feet against her legs, something you love to do because it amuses you like nothing else when she recoils, shrinks as much as her large body will allow and damn near falls off the bed in her effort to get away from you

It doesn't end well for you because she'll strip you of your blanket, wrapping it tightly around her and leaving you to freeze until you have to shove yourself under her to retain some body heat

Actually all you'd have to do is press your cold hands to her cheeks and she'd wrap you in the blanket like it's a straight jacket of her own making, forcing you to calm tf down and lay there until you sleep

( @alcinas-darling this is for you) If she does happen to be wearing a shirt to bed, it'll end up riding up her belly sometime into the night. It just so happens that you can't sleep and her stomach is right there, begging for a poke. One doesn't satisfy you and the squish of her tummy alleviates the boredom so that's what you occupy your sleepless moments with

"Stop that." Sevika's eyes remain shut. From the sound of her voice, she's just barely teetering on consciousness, held back from that blissful fall into darkness by your grabby fingers. "I can't sleep." It's spoken as if it's valid justification for your disturbance of her rest. "So sad. I don' care." Her mouth hangs open on the last word, soft snores already threatening to come out. An exhausted Sevika is an adorable sight to see but an annoyed exhausted Sevika is even more entertaining. Your fingers dance across a sensitive part of her stomach until her skin goes taut and she groans, dramatically turning away from you and reaching behind to whack you with a pillow she keeps specifically for that use.

If you annoy her with touching, she's slapping your hands, each hit harder than the last as you giggle in between 'Ow's

Irritating her when she's still half asleep is a dangerous thing because her subconscious will take over and she'll be casually trying to kill your ass

You're squeezing her nose? She doesn't even open her eyes before using your pillow to start smothering you effortlessly

She will definitely annoy you back if she's in the mood. Her nose is running? She'll use your hand to wipe it as you scream

There's a hc somewhere that she grew up with brothers so she plays dirty

I don't know how bathing works in Zaun, but even if they had consistent access to clean water, I imagine there would be times she's just too tired to bathe. If you try anything during those nights, you're getting put in a headlock under a sweaty armpit

"Nononostopstopstop-" A ghastly scent invades your nose and your eyes cringe shut at the sweat stained armpit pressed against your face. "Sevika!" "What?" She's enjoying your whines a little too much. "You don't want to cuddle with me?" Your girlfriend is a dick and begins moaning about how hurt she is, how unappreciative you are, she works so hard for you, blah blah blah. When she finally releases you from her hold she's laughing as you cringe and wipe your face on the blanket. She'll make a show of sniffing her armpit. "Smells fine to me."

The woman doesn't have any shame and I think you guys underestimate her ability to annoy you too

If there's anything you find gross, she's storing that information away for later

Y'all are gonna hate me for this one but she's gassy. Food stalls in Zaun just seem like they'd destroy your stomach, even the ones that grew up eating from them

You would be banishing her from the bedroom when her stomach's upset, so sorry Sevika

As an apology for that last hc, here's a fluffy morning drabble with Sevika

You wake encompassed by a delicious heat offset by the chill in the air. Said heat took the form of your dozing girlfriend, still blissfully snoring and blowing hot air directly into your eyes, repeatedly displacing a lock of hair that keeps settling over her lips. In your irritation, you half hope she inhales the strands and chokes herself awake so you don’t have to suffer alone.

Regardless of your misplaced annoyance, your bear of a girlfriend wasn’t what woke you. Light streams through the blinds, a particularly spiteful ray settling directly over your eyes, the culprit of your disrupted rest. The shop next door must have turned on their lights for another bustling day in Zaun.

A husky chuckle next to you has you squinting up at your girlfriend who always seems keen on your suffering lest she miss a good source of entertainment. Lines crinkle at the sides of her eyes and they peacefully drift closed, devoid of the pesky light. Your face has scrunched into the pout that usually settles there when you’re “being bitchy,” as Sevika puts it. You’re about to show her bitchy if that thick, muscled arm doesn’t get off of you and stop restricting your movement.

“‘Vika, move.”

“m’comfortable like this, thank you.” The shit-eating grin was so palpable in her voice that you didn’t need to see it to know it’s there, not like you could. Her hold tightened as you squirmed, preventing you from rolling out of the malicious light.

“I’m gonna start kicking in a second- '' If you were able to untwine your legs from hers, which she promptly put a stop to by pushing yours into the mattress with warm, muscled flesh.

“I am so afraid.” But she drags you closer to her chest and into blissful darkness.

The scratchy lettering of her sweatshirt rubs against your face as you angrily nuzzle against her. It’s one you got her, a faded gray with just a simple “Gay” adorning the front. It had taken a while to get her an oversized one, something that would be comfortable enough to sleep in on the colder Zaun nights. Something that didn’t rip every time she flexed, as she was wont to do in any new clothing you got her. Your mastermind plan had been to let her wear it until it acquired her scent and then it would mysteriously find itself in your closet.

Her side was looking a bit scarce lately, so maybe you should hold off to avoid suspicion. Like she doesn’t have eyes to clock every minute you spend in her clothing.

Sleep fails to evade you in her warm embrace, your head tucked securely under her chin and a thumb rubbing lazily over your back. In a blink it’s late into the morning. You feel Sevika tense beside you before relaxing, likely realizing it’s her day off. She’s not used to the concept and it’s you who started making her take vacation days. It was a matter you took up with Silco directly, making Sevika feel like a child as you barged into his office, ignoring her and informing him which days were off limits.

“Idiot.” You mutter, sleep thick in your voice.

“Fuck off.” This earns her a sloppy kiss, clearly startling her from the way her mouth and eyes snap open. Her head wrenches to the side with a groan, keeping you at bay with her flesh hand on your forehead. “Your breath fucking stinks.”

“I’m so sorry, Sevika-” Your exaggerated, breathy apology makes you cough and you ensure it’s in her direction.

“Good, choke.” The bed dips as she turns her back to you to settle onto her side as if that would discourage you. Naturally, you swing a leg over her hip, unnecessarily scrambling for purchase as you climb on top of the older woman. “Get the fuck off me.”

“Someone is not a morning person.” You tease, using your other leg to wedge between hers. You’re met with silence. An elbow drives into your gut when you hoist yourself on top of her, hard but not hard enough. With a dramatic plop, you’re now facing her again with a honeyed smile.

“Morning, handsome- nonono-'' You realize too late that you've fallen into her trap when her lips tug up in a smirk, and then she’s pushing you over the edge, snickering as you grip her shirt desperately. A foot hits the ground in an attempt to gain stability, a bang rattling the room and surely waking the people below you. Sevika’s burying her face in the pillow to muffle her cackles and you take the time to scramble back onto the bed while she’s distracted. When she comes up for air, your glare does nothing but set off another round of giggling. Devious bitch.

“You’re such a dick.” The scars on her cheek twist and stretch from her wide smile. Your fingers go to trace them and end up tucking messy, sleep-tousled hair behind her ear. She’s grinning at you like you hung the moon for her, eyes alight in mischievous rapture that she hasn’t felt in years. Hell, if ever.

“Morning, handsome.” You try again softly.

“Morning.” Pink dusts her cheeks but you can’t look away from her eyes. A lopsided smile adorns her face and puts those gap teeth on display. Her nose bumps into yours as she not-so-subtly shifts her face closer. Your eyes dart between hers, waiting.

“...Morning? That’s all I get?” Your gruff tone has her rolling her eyes, wondering why the two of you can’t have one peaceful morning without bickering. You were lucky she loved you.

“Yeah, that’s all you get, brat.”

#sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #sevika imagine

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