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#i WILL die peacefully after reading this
ventismacchiato · 1 year
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*claps hands* A'IGHT BUCKLE UP Y'ALL
So, appart from what I previously established, he has rosy joints, specially the knuckles and tips of his fingers, on the back of his wrist, his pulsepoint specifically, you can see the blue and purple of his thin veins, if you focus you can trace two of them to his palms, one towards his thumb and the other towards his pinky. He has this one blueish-purple vein that pops out in both his arms that starts at his wrist joint and wraps around his arm, traveling up to the inside of his elbow joint(the part where they take the blood out from in blood tests) and hiding itself right there, you can see it a bit once more on the inside of his arms higher up, close to his armpits. Going back to his palms, on his PIP(major knuckle) joints you can see small purpleish veins. He doesn't have scars nor cuts, he's very careful with his hands, you will not find a single hair in this man's hands, knuckles or even arms, he doesn't shave it off, he just doesn't grow it, at most he has peach fuzz.
His hands are very articulate and when he moves them you get a 100% clear view of all the little parts at work, very mezmerizing to watch his flexor tendons as he moves his hands. His ulnar and median nerves are very prominent, even with his hands fully relaxed they are completely visible, you can literally pinch them, mostly his median nerve tho.
If he's laying belly down on a bed with his arms hanging off the bed but over his head, his hand veins become extremely visible and prominent, same for the one that starts at the wrist and hides at the elbow and appears back on the inside of his arm close to his armpits. It doesn't hurt him at all and it's fun to trace the veins. He paints his nails either black, purple or a deep deep blue, if he's really feeling like it, he will add small dots and spots to his nails to simulate "stars"(see his splash art, Shouki no Kami's chest mirror thing, Ei's skill and burst with the star pattern), his nails are slightly longer than his fingertips, but not enough that they collect dirt under them. Overall he's the dude with the best hands you've ever seen.
10000000000000/10 would fit them down my throat
~🤲😩💦(Liked the hand emote idea, decided to make it this cursed thing fuehehd)
GOOD GODDDDD HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO EROTIC OMG WTF HELLO ILY ANON IM IN SHOCK SOMEONE HOLD ME HELLO ??
his hands would make a great necklace holy shit i’m going to reread this later when i can process it better i’m sleep deprived rn but wow
RLLY FUELING THE HAND KINK OMG 😖😖
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redr0sewrites · 2 months
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Sick!Hazbin Hotel x Reader Hcs
i love reverse comfort sm. im also currently being brutally murdered by allergies but i prefer comforting others so here we are
🥀 Cw: fluff, crack, teensy bit of angst with comfort
🥀 Pairing(s): Lucifer x reader, Alastor x reader, Vox x reader, Adam x reader
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Lucifer:
sick? him? please, the king of hell doesn't get sick!
thats what he claims anyways
lucifer brushes nearly everything off as just plain allergies, he could literally have a 103 fever and be shaking on the floor and would still be pouting and saying he's fine
the thing about him tho is that he's easy to take care of- after a little coaxing lucifer just sighs and nods glumly before pretty much submitting himself to your care
once he's admitted hes sick tho, he wants you around him 24/7
lucifer wants cuddles, hugs, kisses, he just gets so clingy when he's feeling under the weather
THIS MAN LITERALLY BURNS UP WHEN HE'S SICK ITS ALWAYS THE LITTLE ONES WITH THE HIGHEST RAGING FEVERS THAT LAST FOR DAYS like he'll be sweating and shivering and crying he gets hit HARD when he's sick and it happens so suddenly too- like one day he's fine and then the next he looks like he's one small wind away from collapsing
he lowkey feels bad about asking for things when he's sick so he'll say something offhand like "yk im in the mood for soup" and hopes you get the message
ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE TO GET FEVER DREAMS AND START RAMBLING WHEN HES SICK
like he'll wake up from a nap and still be half asleep and he just starts genuinely rambling about literally the most obscure things
lucifer definitely gets nightmares even when he isn't sick, but when hes feeling like shit and is so delirious he can't tell reality from fiction? be prepared for him to wake up crying and shaking, he just gets so so scared :(
lucifer feels bad about you taking care of him and wants to help, but will lowkey end up pushing himself too hard. PLEASE reassure him and tell him it's alright he'll literally melt
once its all over, lucifer will genuinely trust you more after you saw him in such a vulnerable state and is much more likely to come to you instead of hiding how he's feeling in the future
Alastor:
alastor? weak? lmao no
he would literally rather die than admit he's sick like he would literally just keep pushing on
alastor is one of those people that has an iron immune system like he VERY rarely gets sick but when he does its like torture
to even be alastor's partner you'd have to know him for a long time and you'd probably be able to read him pretty well (at least compared to other people), yet even you sometimes miss his sickness in the earlier stages
alastors biggest tell tale sign of being sick? exhaustion. he very rarely sleeps on the regular, but when he's sick that all catches up to him
he also gets more irritable and a little less composed, he'd be more prone to getting angry and would lash out if anyone asked if he was ok
alastors ears would also be turned back slightly, like most animals do when they're being aggressive, but its pretty much only obvious to people who know him closely
alastor never wants to be vulnerable or weak but you notice that his eyelids keep drifting of their own accord, and how irritable he's been, and it clicks to you that he's obviously not feeling well
approach him about it in private, while alastor does trust you he still doesn't want others to knowm
no matter how much you try he will not lay down, take medicine, or do anything (at least at first)
alastor genuinely thinks that he can just push through on his own and lowkey thinks you're worrying too much
however after two weeks of pure suffering and exhaustion, combined with no sleep and your irritation at his lack of will to take care of himself, alastor finally breaks
he'd prob come to your room at like 4 in the morning and just curl up on the edge of the bed, shivering a little but staying quiet
you wake up to him fast asleep, his ears twitching every once and a while as he rests peacefully near you
get a cool towel and lay it on his forehead to break the fever, and he'll just keep sleeping
he probably wouldn't wake up for at least a few hours, months of lost sleep are catching up to him at this point, giving you the opportunity to make him some soup and medicine
alastor will stir a little when you get out of bed but wont wake up, but once he does wake up he wants you to come back
when he's sick he wants you to be nearby, alastor isn't the touchiest person and being sick makes him feel gross, so he wouldn't want to be touched but would want you arround just to know you're there
this is probably the first step in him being more open to vulnerability around you, and while it may have been a bit of an irritating process to get him back to his usual healthy status, it's definitely worth it as he begins to trust you more
Vox:
lowkey a man child (affectionate)
vox is one of those guys who will take care of himself when he's sick, but he'll complain about it every step of the way
i think he's pretty responsible when he's sick, he'll take the day off and relax but won't do much other than that
he likes when you pamper him though, and a part of him lowkey enjoys being sick because he just gets to have your full attention all of the time (as if he doesn't already💀)
vox would be irritated about showing weakness and not being in control, but he wouldn't be irritated at you
if an employee was being too nosy about his wellbeing? yea he's pissed but if you're the one taking care of him, he'll just sigh and let you do what you want
VOX IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHOS LITERALLY ALWAYS COLD AND ITS AMPLIFIED WHEN HES SICK
he becomes like a literal ice cube he's SHIVERING and everything
vox has the cutest sneezes too, he glitches out and denies how cute his sneezes are but they really are adorable
vox takes like 2 baths per day when he's sick he hates feeling unclean, and def wants you to join him in the bath (just to relax, get your mind out of the gutter)
vox would be a little pissed about missing work, i think he's a bit of a workaholic and might try to work in bed or sneak some paperwork behind your back
it doesn't work though because he just ends up passing out anyway
vox is big on sleeping when he's sick he's definitely the type to just sleep it off and thats that
like he CRASHES in bed and just does not get up for hours
he sleeps like the dead too, his screen is blank and he barely moves in his sleep
like lucifer, he has fever dreams but they lean more on the weird side rather than the sad side
its funny but instead of talking more when sick, vox actually talks much less. he starts getting super quiet and a lot more needy for your attention
vox is more than happy to return to work and be back on his feet, but will send you a little thank you gift and pamper you in return for taking care of him
Adam:
manchild x2 (also affectionate)
adam DREADS getting sick like he genuinely hates it so much, he sees it as one of his own flaws and it makes him lowkey disgusted at himself
he whines like a baby over a common cold, its almost sad how the slightest sickness will make him act like he's on his death bed
adam whines and complains whenever you aren't around him, he wants cuddles and kisses and is 10x more clingy when he's sick
he has little to no appetite when he's actually sick but gets a huge appetite right after
like you'll have to force him to eat at least a piece of toast per day while he's actually feverish but once he's in recovery he's literally FAMISHED and will ask for so much food
he barely eats or drinks while hes sick it just feels icky to him
i also think he's the type to not want to move like he just collapses on his bed and barely moves an inch (unless you force him)
adam exaggerates when he's barely sick and then underplays it when he's genuinely really sick its lowkey so confusing
like he could have pneuomonia and be half dead and say he's fine but he could have the most common cold and complain foreverrr
he doesn't think you're genuine when you say you want to help him and take care of him, he thinks its just a joke since nobody has ever really taken care of him before
like sure he's been told what to do and bossed around and treated him like a foolish child, but no one has ever sat with him while he's sick and held his hand yk?
while he can be irritable and annoying while he's sick, he apologizes afterwards
its one of the few times he ever apologizes but he genuinely feels bad about lashing out
adam isn't used to being below someone when it comes to status or health and relaxing and letting someone else take care of him is kind of foreign for him, but you both work it out over time
while he isn't the easiest to take care of, he genuinely appreciates that you want to help him and wants to return the favor someday
I WILL MAKE A PT 2 OF THIS WITH MORE FEM CHARACTERS OR WITH HELLUVA BOSS CHARACTERS BUT I DIDNT WANT TO CROWD UP THIS POST TOO MUCH!!!!! ALSO SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES I WROTE THIS WHILE HALF ASLEEP ♥️ HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS TEEHEE
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ioniiaa · 3 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 7)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Quick Notes:
You, the reader who is an artist, and had become Alastor's sweetheart, have just died.
Alastor is about to find out.
Part 7:
The sound of a singular gunshot rang clearly in the night that had been so peacefully quiet up until that moment in time.
Alastor, with the engagement ring in his pocket, who had been peacefully reading a novel within the confines of your shared home, nearly ripped his book in half upon hearing the sound of a gunshot in these woods.
The forest around here was part of his private property, anyone who dared to trespass or hunt in his neck of the woods was shot on sight. Many people ignored the plentiful and very obvious warning signs, so it wasn't his fault so many people ended up becoming your and his meals. Everyone else just thought the law didn't apply to them, straight-up criminals. In his eyes, they all deserved it.
Thinking it was just another nuisance, a "tsk" left Alastor's mouth as he grabbed his shotgun and headed into the woods.
After a few minutes of walking, he finally caught sight of the transgressors. Two men that he, unfortunately, recognized right away as the men from the bar who liked to push his buttons by harassing you.
The seething rage pooled in his core, bubbling up into his chest. This was his chance to get rid of those nuisances once and for all.
They would trouble his darling no more.
For him to get into a better position to take the men out, he crouched down and quietly circled around them like a hunter playing with his prey.
After circling around to position himself behind the men, what he wasn't expecting to see was the most nightmarish sight he's ever seen.
His beloved sweetheart, soon to be betrothed, all disheveled and tied up against a blood-splattered tree with a bullet lodged in the middle of their forehead.
Your eyes were lifeless. There was no doubt about it, the love of his life was dead.
Alastor didn't need to even think before pulling the trigger on the men, shooting one after the other, over and over, even after their bodies had hit the ground.
He. Was. Enraged.
By the time Alastor was done with them, they looked like Swiss cheese, barely strung together.
Alastor's breath was heavy, his chest heaving, near hyperventilating, his eyes were enlarged and his mind was focused on one thing. You.
His beautiful love, he couldn't bear to see you in this state.
In his oddly manic and shocked state, he untied you from the tree and took your body back to your shared home in the woods not too far from here.
For a few moments, his rage was replaced by sorrow and mourning as he buried you in the backyard. As fucked up as he was in the head sometimes, he would rather die than think about eating you. You were sacred to him.
As he laid you down into the ground, he embraced you once last time and took the ring out of his pocket. He placed the ring onto your ring finger and kissed the top of your hand, "In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, dear."
After you were buried, the rage returned like a vicious tsunami. Oh he wasn't done with revenge just yet.
Every single man or woman that ever mistreated you or offended you, was put on his list.
This night was the catalyst that gave birth to the serial killer known as the "Bayou Killer".
Alastor stopped visiting Mimzy's bar since your death, with his sole focus and dedication in life going to hunting down those that had harmed you in life. After all, they deserved it, you were like an angel to him.
But what Alastor didn't stop doing, was broadcasting his radio show. So many of his connections were made because of his show, so it was a valuable resource to keep active, to use to his advantage.
Alastor continued living his life like this until every single name was crossed off his list.
It was then that it was time for his luck to run out.
Right upon the killing the very last person on the list, was Alastor also shot right square in the forehead.
Before his consciousness faded into black, all he could hear was the muffled panic of a stranger who seemed to be apologizing for mistaking him for some sort of animal.
All Alastor could do was chuckle at the irony of the whole situation, the maniacal laughter was the type that only a madman could produce- before everything went dark and he died.
He thought he would never see you again, because surely, his beloved sweetheart would end up in heaven right?
The answer to this would remain a mystery for many decades to come as Alastor descended into Hell and became who is now widely known in Hell as "The Radio Demon".
-> Part 8
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pinkberrytea · 12 days
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Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion.
Memento mori—Remember you must die. Enveloped in memories of her death, the Vampire Ascendant watches his darling consort as she slumbers, lost in dreams of blood and mist. Life is short, and shortly it will end; death comes quickly and respects no one. To death we are hastening, let us refrain from sinning.
An exploration of Astarion's character and his relationship with his Dark Consort following the ascension, from a softer perspective.
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Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav (F!Reader)
w/c: 6.2k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers
a/n: thank you for reading! this is my first time dabbling in creative writing, and of course my first attempt at smut fiction, but still, I hope it is at least somewhat enjoyable. I would like to dedicate this work to the lovely @locallegume, who was a huge source of inspiration, and also to hismostbelovedspawn over on reddit, for being always so incredibly kind and supportive. I love you guys!
tags: blood drinking; cunnilingus; body worship; light dom/sub; vaginal fingering; mildly dubious consent; creampie; fluff & angst; emotional sex; dry humping; possessive behavior
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The beginning of the morning twilight is Astarion’s favorite time of the day, for it feels at once ephemeral and infinite. The wistful silence, broken only by the still timid chirping of the waking birds; the royal blue-colored sky, tinged with specks of the purples and violets of the dawn; the chilly morning breeze, gently rustling the flowers in the garden, pushing the still forming dewdrops off their petals and onto the ground; you, slumbering beside him, pale skin reflecting the dim light of the fading moon, rosy lips slightly parted. Sleeping peacefully like this, you look like a life-sized porcelain doll, he thinks—your unmoving chest betrays your otherwise healthy likeness, as does the unnaturally blanched color of your skin. Your nightgown hangs lazily off your shoulder, exposing one of your breasts, and your undergarments lay discarded on the floor, on the exact same spot where he had tossed them earlier that night. He adores this version of you—so vulnerable, so defenseless, laid open for him, and him only.
Astarion finds it curious, how you seem to completely lose yourself in your dreams, yet he is also greatly perturbed by the notion that there is a part of you that he is still unable to access, to dominate. It feels unnatural, not to be able to control this elusive slice of your essence, but having ever only tranced, it also mystifies him that you’d voluntarily give up your consciousness each night. You were after all ever the trusting fool—from the moment you met, he had lied to you, manipulated you countless times, and each time you fell for it, standing by his side even when the world screamed at you not to. And even now, you give yourself to him, unquestioningly, unconditionally. In all the long years of his existence, there had been none like you, and there never will be again. None as trusting, none as kind, and he both hates and loves you for it. The very notion of you extending your kindness to anyone other than him is infuriating, and makes him want to take it for himself, put it in a glass dome and hide it away in a place where only he can bask in its warmth. He thinks he is owed that, at least; yours was the only hand that ever reached out to him, so he is justified in not wanting to share.
You shift slightly in your sleep, and a lock of your hair that had been trapped underneath one of your arms falls onto your chest. After eyeing it for a moment, Astarion reaches out for the tresses and grasps them between his fingers. Bringing them close to his nose, he takes in your scent, that is now also his. It smells comforting, familiar—it smells like home. The corner of his lips curl into an almost imperceptible smile, and he closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. The hushed shroud of the early hours acts as a cloak, under which he is granted a brief respite, a rare chance to let himself be gentle, be kind. Just as you become entirely vulnerable before him in your slumber, he too exposes the soft underbelly of his feelings for you; that chaotic, intoxicating brew, a messy blend of passion, guilt, hurt, longing, and love, endless and unrelenting love.
He brings his elegant fingers close to your face, and ever so gently glides their soft pads across the cold, velvety smooth skin of your cheek. Your long lashes flutter slightly, tickling the sensitive area under your eyes as he lowers the digits to brush the plump of your lips. He admires you for a short moment, taking in your image—his pretty consort, so beautiful, so frail, so foolishly devoted to him. Oh how lucky he is, to have you who would do anything for him by his side; his most precious treasure, the reason why his long dead heart beats inside his chest once more. He grasps your chin, delicately tilting your head upward to face him, and tenderly presses his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your chest, fingers softly caressing the pebbled peak of your exposed breast, his touch so faint that his skin barely comes into contact with yours. As much as Astarion enjoys asserting his dominance over you, making you kneel before him, seeing the dejected yet submissive expression on your pretty face whenever he decides to make a show of his power, it is these moments he values the most. In your intimacy, he may treat you gently, tenderly, and in your state of unconsciousness, by morning his loving touches will be but a hazy memory, securing your place below, but close beside him, from where you shall never leave for as long as he draws breath—which he can now only do thanks to you.
His fingers on your nipple leave it alone for a moment to close around your breast, giving it a soft, gentle squeeze. Moving quietly so as not to wake you, he slides his right leg under yours and presses it against the back of your knee, creating a space between your thighs as he pushes them apart, where he then nests himself, climbing on top of you.
“Astarion…” when you softly whisper his name, his half-smile widens into a grin; how reassuring it is, to know you belong to him even in your dreams. He lowers his head to plant a kiss on the delicate skin of the curve of your neck, and his lips brush against the two small indentations disrupting the otherwise pristine smoothness of your flesh. Instinctively, he brings his hand to the back of your right shoulder, his long fingers blindly searching for the matching set of bite marks. The last of the three pairs adorns your left wrist, for which reason he will ever so often take your hand in his, only to lovingly kiss it and turn it around so he can admire the evidence of his proudest feat—having sired you.
“Oh my love, I’m here. I’ve got you,” Astarion coos, holding your head gently against his bare chest, fingers tangled in your hair as you writhe and squirm in his arms, empty and glassy eyes lost in a hollow stare, seeing nothing but darkness, endless darkness. The expression on your face is at once delirious and vacant—mouth agape and fists clenched, pupils blown wide, eyelashes wet with tears and a thin string of drool coming out from the corner of your lip and trickling down your chin. At least for tonight, you are lost to him, and as he winces at the still foreign sensation of the loud, vigorous throbbing in his head, your own fading heartbeat softens, dying down into nothingness. And right as it is about to fall perpetually silent, he lets his fangs pierce his own tongue, drawing droplets of now living blood; bringing your face close to his, he presses his thumb to your lower lip, and covers your mouth with his.
He loses himself in the memory for a moment, as he so often does. Your peaceful, serene expression stands in stark contrast to the one that had been etched on your face on that fateful night. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet still he remembers the pain, the agony, the relentless fear building up in his stomach as your body contorted and tears glistened in your vacant eyes. Never had Astarion been more afraid of anything than he’d been of losing you, and by his hand no less. Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion. You only ever questioned him about what had happened on the evening of your turning once, but it mattered not how many times you asked, for he would never fully disclose the raw truth—how he had cradled you in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in your ears, kissing away your tears; how he had picked you up as you lost consciousness and carried you to your bed, where he would then tuck you in so very tenderly, so very gently, softly patting your hair and holding your hand, sharing his warmth with you as you lost your own; how he would patiently wait by your side, watching as the color slowly drained from your face, his stomach sinking at the thought of you never waking again—only for you to then slowly open your eyes, their hue now a rich crimson, much like his own. No, he would never again allow himself to be so weak, for he was supposed to be your warden, your liege. This pathetic side of him was to be ever hidden from you, only rearing its ugly head during the brief, sleepy moments preceding the crack of dawn.
With his lips still pressed against your skin, Astarion starts peppering kisses down your neck, on the hollows of your collarbone and across your sternum, his hand on your breast fondling it gently, the other still tracing the bite marks on your shoulder. His still clothed hips start lazily, almost imperceptibly rocking back and forth, lightly grinding against your naked thighs; thinking back to the night when he made you his almost inevitably causes blood to rush to his groin, and his body starts unconsciously seeking the sweet relief of the friction between his hardening erection and your supple skin. He moves his hand on your breast to grasp your nipple between his fingers, lightly squeezing it. You involuntarily buck your hips in response, which amuses him greatly as he continues playing with the tender nub. A soft moan escapes your lips, encouraging and emboldening his attentions as they drift away from your clavicle towards your chest. He plants gentle kisses on the plump of your bosom, using his teeth to pull at your nightgown and drag it down, exposing your clothed breast to the chilly morning air. You shiver, and he smiles against your skin, pressing his lips to the valleys of your ribs, the softness of your lower belly, and finally to your bare crotch. With his face so close to your swollen sex, the sweet scent of your essence now intoxicates his senses. He stands back for a moment to admire how it glistens in the faint glow of the moonlight, so deliciously inviting, as your juices start building up and collecting in-between your folds.
Feeling his breath caressing the sensitive skin of your core, you finally start to slowly regain consciousness. Once his arousals were returned to him, Astarion would make a habit of waking up during the night at various times to bury his cock in you, so it takes you but a moment to gather your bearings. Either out of mischievousness or curiosity, you play coy at first, pretending to be asleep still. His soft lips briefly come into contact with your engorged bud, sending shock waves through your body, and you are barely able to keep yourself from letting out a yelp, although you can’t prevent your skin from becoming covered with goosebumps. When his tongue pokes out of his mouth to give it a tentative lick, you know you won’t be able to keep up the charade for much longer. He feels your body tense up, and slightly raises his head to look at you from his position between your legs with half-lidded, lascivious eyes, dilated pupils partially covering the ruby hue of his irises. You’re unsure if he has already caught on to your little ruse, so you try staying as still as possible, which proves difficult with his face so close to your cunt.
After what seems like an eternity he decides to continue, lapping at your clit again and then sliding his tongue downwards, burying it between your folds. He presses it against the outer edge of your entrance, squeezing slick out of you, and as he savors your essence, he can’t help but think that while its sweet tanginess does not compare to the coppery, velvety richness of the crimson in your veins—nothing ever will, for his is the blood that courses through them—it may well be the second best thing he has ever tasted. Gliding his tongue upwards once more, he uses it to gently massage the raw bundle of nerves atop your slit, leaving a trail of saliva mixed with your fluids between it and your twitching cunt, which then dribbles down onto your thighs. Placing a hand on each side of your hips, he pulls you closer to him, and the shift causes his fangs to graze the sensitive skin of your folds, in response to which your eyes water and you clutch the silk sheets under you both. Taking no notice of your desperate reaction, he continues swirling his tongue up and down your wetness, gently suckling on the tender skin, eagerly eating you up as if you were a full-course meal served especially for him, just begging to be ravished.
You feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen, and at this rate it won’t be long before you are brought to the edge. Momentarily forgetting the fact that you are supposed to be pretending to be asleep as you lose yourself in the crescendo of your release, you arch your back, leaning on your elbows to support your weight, and as soon as you do, he mercilessly pulls away from you, leaving your dripping core empty and aching. Eyes closed still, you let out a soft mewl in protest, which you regret as soon it leaves your lips, for once Astarion notices your desperation, you are done for.
Still unsure if he has already perceived your awakened state or if he believes your body to be involuntarily reacting to his touch, you dare not produce any further sounds. Having cruelly left your throbbing mound unattended, his tongue now glides its way up your stomach, leaving a glistening wet mess in its wake. Upon reaching your chest, his lips latch onto your left breast, your perked nub fitting perfectly inside his mouth. He sucks on it ever so tenderly, teasing it with a pointed tongue and lightly scraping the squishy surrounding flesh with his fangs. One of his hands leaves its place on your hip and finds its way between your legs, and you let out a sigh of relief when you feel a long, elegant finger ghosting over your clit. The other hand slides further down to the curve of your ass, and his blunt nails dig into your soft skin, giving it a firm squeeze.
The pad of the wandering digit finally presses down onto the engorged flesh of your reddened knot, massaging it leisurely in circular patterns, and another finger suddenly slides between your folds, parting them gently. Unable to contain yourself, you roll your hips into his hand, which you soon learn is a grave mistake as he tightens his grip on your ass, applying such pressure that come morning, bruises are certain to form on the pale skin, which he will then tenderly kiss better while looking apologetically at you from under thick lashes; and you will forgive him, as you always do. Lifting his head up from your now rouged, swollen nipple, he readjusts his position above you, using his body weight to pin you down and hold you in place. He lets go of your ass, firmly grasping at your jaw with his newly freed hand, and even from behind closed eyes you can feel the intensity of his gaze. This does not bode well, and try as you might you cannot ignore the sickening pinch in the pit of your stomach as his eyes scrutinize every inch of your face—has he noticed? Is a punishment in order? Will he deny you your release?
“Open up, darling. Your mouth.” The commanding tone with which Astarion vocalizes the otherwise unassuming words is all it takes to placate your erratic thoughts, and obeying is for you as natural as breathing—or it would be, if you were still alive. Once you do as he says, you feel his thumb pressing on your lower lip, forcing it further down. He slides the digit inside your mouth, gagging you slightly, and your lips instinctively close around it. “Good girl,” he purrs, and encouraged by the tenderness of his praise, you start lightly sucking on it, coating it with saliva. For a short moment, he becomes entranced by the feeling of your wet tongue massaging his skin, and his mind wanders to the thought of your plump lips wrapped tightly around his cock. This prompts him to once again start bucking his hips, rubbing the now obvious bulge underneath his pants against your stomach, but this time his rhythm is much more frantic, more desperate.
Relief washes over you as you feel the fingers still in your slit resume their fondling, the one on your clit now applying greater pressure, handling it much less gently, yet just as skillfully, his knowledge of all the ins and outs of your body having always been something he prided himself on. The other makes its way down from its place between your folds, plunging into you as soon as it reaches your entrance. Your body jerks in response, and your moan is muffled by his thumb in your mouth—when he then plunges another, stretching you open without giving you time to adjust, you involuntarily bite down on the digit gagging you, sinking your fangs into his flesh. He grimaces, and you can tell you have hit an artery, because the flow of the thick, hot blood running down your throat is alarmingly heavy. However, rather than pulling away, he lets you drink, curling his fingers inside you and massaging the tight walls of your cunt with his knuckles. The rich taste of his crimson lingering in your tongue and spreading inside your body, mixing with yours within your veins and making them pulsate with life—pure, raw, vibrating life—works as a powerful aphrodisiac, heightening all your senses, and the feeling of him fucking you with his fingers is all it takes for you to come undone on his hand, muscles spasming and clenching around the digits, coating them in the sweet nectar of your release.
Just as you reach your climax, Astarion’s own teeth sink into the indentations marking the otherwise smooth skin of your neck. You instinctively cock your head to the side to grant him more access, letting him feed on you as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, sucking on his thumb still. His blood flows from him to you and then back to him, and the sheer intimacy of it brings you so close together that it’s as if you have merged into one single being. You can no longer tell where you end and he begins, as your minds touch and mesh and then untangle again, in a sensual, chaotic dance, where you both sway to the rhythm of his heartbeat. And while the connection lasts, his emotions rush through you and yours through him, rendering words meaningless as the everlasting adoration, the inebriating, all-consuming love you share, no matter how tainted, is laid bare before you, in all its wickedness and allure.
“Fear not: you are mine.”
You finally open your eyes, letting go of his thumb, and as the fog from the afterglow subsides you notice his fingers remain inside you still, gliding effortlessly up and down your twitching walls, which are now lubricated with slick and come; your skin tingles from the overstimulation, but the sensation is not unwelcome. With the hand you have just freed, he holds your head in place while he continues to feed, and you both stay like this for a while, his fingers buried inside your cunt and his fangs in your neck, where they rightfully belong. His little grunts as he drinks from you and the feeling of his hardened cock pressed flush against your stomach rekindle the ache between your legs, causing the living blood now coursing through your veins to flow to your tender core.
Having drank to his heart’s content, Astarion pulls away from you, making you wince at the sudden emptiness as both his fangs and fingers leave your body. No longer plagued by the perpetual, agonizing hollowness of vampiric hunger, his only reason for feeding on you still is the invigorating thrill of your taste on his tongue and your blood pulsating in his arteries; you were his first, after all, having offered him the greatest gift of them all when you had no good reason to. Killing you on the evening he first revealed his true nature had never been out of the question, and it puzzles him still why you would willingly surrender this sanguine gift to a vampire stalking you in the night—a pitiful creature, hiding in the shadows, with murderous intent and offering you nothing but pain and misery. He is reminded of your foolishness and naïveté every time he sinks his fangs in your soft flesh, and the familiarity of it is oddly comforting to him.
Not bothering to wipe the red smear on his chin, he brings his hand up to your mouth once more, only this time his digits are covered in your juices. A single look into his crimson eyes, clouded with lust, tells you all you need to know, and you eagerly obey the silent order, wrapping your lips around his fingers.
“Ever so obedient, aren’t you, my sweet?” His honeyed words and impish smile send shivers down your spine, and unable to talk as your tongue flicks and swirls, lapping at your own sticky essence, you look up at him through your lashes with coquettish demureness; his pretty little spawn, always so good to him, so docile, so devoted. The very sight of you makes his cock twitch with desire. “I do find it charming when you play your darling little games. Mostly because you are awful at them. You did know I was aware the entire time, didn’t you?,” although his smile widens, there is a hint of danger in his voice, “That you were awake.”
As his blood within you rushes to your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears, Astarion’s expression darkens for a moment, and the lust in his eyes grows wilder, more desperate. There is something endlessly enticing about how bashful and girlish you look when your face is hot and flushed with his crimson, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, and it makes him want to devour you whole. He abruptly slides his fingers out of your mouth, and the glistening string of your fluids that forms between your lips and his digits breaks off as he uses that same hand to grab your neck and bring your face close to his. Once you are mere inches apart, he stops for a moment, locking eyes with you, and the proximity between you is such that you can feel his long lashes brushing against your skin and see the flecks in different shades of red swimming in his irises. The stillness in the air makes you acutely aware of the sound of his heartbeat, and it paradoxically both comforts and torments you. Such is the nature of your relationship; yearning and sorrow, worship and regret, lust and greed. The duality of it is not lost to you, but you’re past the point of coming up with justifications, for it is far too late for redemption. You made your choice, he made his, and now his burden is yours to bear. It matters not if outsiders looking in cannot make sense of it, as the bond between you was never meant to be understood by anyone else—however ugly and twisted it may be perceived by those around you, it is undeniably a bond of love, one you are willing to protect even if it costs you everything.
“Until the world falls down.”
When he finally closes the distance between you and crashes his mouth into yours, your mind is wiped clean of any semblance of coherent thought and your senses are filled with nothing but him—his scent, his warmth, his taste. He hungrily parts your lips with his tongue as soon as your skin touches his, your teeth clicking in his desperation, and his grip on your neck tightens. You feel tears well up in your eyes, some spilling through your lashes and rolling down your cheeks, your repressed emotions overflowing as you lose yourself in the fierce intensity of his kiss. You want him, you need him, you hate him; you love him, oh how dearly you love him, more than life itself. He explores the inside of your mouth, wantonly, passionately, only stopping to suck on your bottom lip, nipping it with his fangs and lapping at the droplets of blood blooming from the punctured flesh. Once he pulls away, gasping for air, you are both a disheveled mess, lips swollen and bruised and red. Not yet letting go of you, his fingers wrapped around your throat still, he guides your head back down, laying it on the soft feather pillow, only to then straighten up his torso, hand on your neck holding you in place and darkened eyes looking down upon you. From your position below him, he looks ethereal, almost godly, as the moon casts a pale halo around his frame, shining its light on the naked skin of his upper body.
He holds this position for a while, silently studying your face, and as he does, his intense gaze seems to gradually soften, mellowing out into almost tenderness. You feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin lessen, and then cease completely as he frees you, raising his hand up to cup your cheek. His thumb traces the trail of dried tears, and you lean into his soothing touch, eyes wettening once more. Taking notice of this, he leans back down and brushes his lips against the teardrops threatening to escape from your lashes, drying them before they fall.
“Shh, my darling, hush.” The softness in Astarion’s voice and the gentleness of his caresses as he runs his fingers through your hair are all you ever yearned for, all you ever needed, and yet with every touch your chest tightens and you feel a pang of loneliness and guilt tugging at your unbeating heart, for this is what you want, but not what you deserve. You have failed him, just as he has failed others, and your regrets bind you together for eternity as the thread of your fate entangles with his in a constricting embrace—so is it too greedy, to let yourself be selfish and indulge in his warmth before the sun rises? Is even someone as broken and wicked as you allowed a moment of reprieve, however brief? You know not the answer to these questions, nor do you think you ever will. All you know is that there’s nowhere else you want to be but in his arms, no matter how much it hurts, for you’ll endure the pain as long as you are by his side.
“Kiss me,” you quietly plead, your supplication barely a whisper, prompting him to pull away slightly to look into your eyes. He takes a moment to try and read your expression, his gaze sharp, inquisitive, stripping you off all your defenses and laying you bare before him. A short time passes, and without saying a word, he lowers his head down again, lips brushing against yours, their pillowy softness and the taste of your blood still lingering on his skin shrouding your mind in a white fog. You raise both of your arms and wrap them around his neck, bringing him closer as your mouth matches his movements, the desperation of before now manifesting more tenderly, more lovingly, but just as intensely. One of his hands remains on your cheek as he kisses you, and with the other, he finally unlaces his pants, freeing his neglected erection, which by now is slick from the precome leaking from its engorged head. The color of the sky outside slowly begins to brighten, now a beautiful blend of periwinkle and cyan, and as the twilight peaks and starts to reach its end, Astarion decides he has waited long enough—he will take you here and now, before the merciless, harsh light of the sun engulfs you both.
Feeling his hardness against your thigh, you readily comply, spreading your legs apart. You need this just as much as he does; to be one with him, carnally, for your souls have long merged, and there is no you without him just as there is no him without you. As he lines up with your entrance, his lips leave yours and he presses your foreheads together, staring into your eyes with reassuring tenderness. You feel the tip of his cockhead flush against your dripping sex—the reddened, puffed up skin feels warm, and thinking of how it is swollen from his blood in your veins is all it takes for him to finally snap and give into his desires. He slides inside of you in a single thrust, the wetness from your juices facilitating his entry as he stretches your walls to accommodate his large size. You try to bite back a whimper, your eyes once again tingling and prickling with the promise of tears as one of your hands finds its way to the back of his head and your fingers become entangled in his silvery curls. Not moving immediately, he waits a while, giving you time to adjust. You revel in the familiar feeling of his cock stuffed inside your core, the pain and warmth of it, and you wonder if he too can find comfort nowhere else but in your flesh, as it is only when filled with him that you are able to hold together the broken pieces of your descended mind.
The hand that had been cupping your cheek now rests on your waist as he moves his head to nuzzle the curve of your neck, taking in your scent. Ever so slowly he starts rolling his hips back and forth, planting gentle kisses on the delicate skin where his fangs had been buried just moments ago, now stained with patches of dried blood. You close your eyes, still trying to hold back the tears, hugging him as tightly as you can, or as tightly as he’ll let you. His pace is at first languid, sensual, allowing you to feel the entirety of him as he massages your aching, tender walls, still sensitive and spasming from your orgasm. He grunts in your ear, prompting you to start undulating your own hips, doing your best to match his rhythm. Emboldened by this, he moves his hands down to grab your ass, tilting your pelvis up and pulling you closer to him. Just as desperate to feel him as deeply as physically possible, you wrap your legs around his midriff, allowing him to reach the innermost parts of your throbbing cunt. When the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy skin of your cervix, your gut tightens and you cry out for him, unable to contain yourself.
“Astarion…”
The sound of his name in your lips, so very eager, so very sweet, is all the encouragement he needs, and the once languid movements give way to more vigorous pounding, the lewd sound of smacking flesh echoing in the otherwise quiet room as he snaps his hips and buries himself deeper inside your aching core. Your body rocks in rhythm with his thrusts, the tears in your eyes finally escaping your lashes and running down your face, a chaotic culmination of all the pleasure, all the hurt, all the desire and all the devotion brewing deep inside your heart as your raging feelings come to a boil. No one can understand, no one will understand—and yet, as he fucks you senseless in the early hours, pumping his cock in and out of you with lascivious abandon, none of it matters. You hold him even closer, pressing your squishy breasts flush against the sweaty, glistening skin of his chest. He moans at the sensation, intensifying his pace and using his hands on your ass to tilt your pelvis higher, pushing your folded legs, which are still wrapped around him, as close to your upper body as your flexibility will allow it. You feel the muscles in your thighs stretching and burning, but this only excites you further, and the soft whimpers leaving your lips escalate in frequency and loudness alike.
As he continues pounding into you, Astarion’s kisses on your neck become more passionate, more heated, going from pecks, to licking, to sucking, until eventually he gives in and once again sinks his fangs in the bruised flesh. You mewl faintly and your grip on his hair tightens, in response to which he bites down on you harder, nails raking across the skin of your ass as his thrusts grow fiercer, more violent. The message immediately gets through to you—the cheeky little spawn must know her place—so you obediently let go of his curls, although your digits remain entangled in them still; yet he does not slow down his pace, ramming into you with such force that you are afraid you will have trouble walking once he is finished. Be that as it may, one of his hands leaves its place on your ass to hover above your swollen clit, which twitches desperately as his cock resurfaces and then disappears again inside your cunt. He grasps it between two deft fingers, massaging the engorged bundle of nerves as a reward for your obedience, and that is all it takes for tension to again start building up in your groin.
“You have given me everything.”
His digits on your tender bud; your blood running down his throat; his cock slamming into you, stretching open your tight walls—you are so very close to climaxing again, and yet you don’t want the moment to end; you don’t want morning to come, breaking the spell and robbing your lover from you, as it always so cruelly does. The tragic inevitability of it is however unaffected by the infinitude of your existence, a gift that was also bequeathed to you by him, and enveloped by the ice-cold embrace of the memories of your death, your body comes alive as you are pushed over the edge, your twitching cunt fluttering and contracting around him, creaming and squirting your sweet juices all over his length.
As you slump back and go limp is his arms, Astarion unlatches his mouth from your neck and props up his torso to marvel at your image as you bask in the glory of your release—so maddeningly beautiful, cheeks and plump lips flushed bright pink with what remains of his lifeblood within you; his consort, his spawn, his to use as he pleases, his and nobody else’s. While he continues fucking you through your orgasm, all you can hear are his low moans and grunts and the squelching sounds of your wetness as he ruts into you with ever increasing furor. You can tell he is also close by the way he holds your hips with both of his hands, pushing his own against them with almost vicious ferocity while you remain slumped on the headboard, tits bouncing cutely with every thrust. The daylight seeping through the curtains now brightens up the room, and as you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, you notice how handsome he looks illuminated by the gentle glow of the rising sun, sweat beading his temple and dripping down his chin and nose.
“Gods…” he groans, voice raspy with lust, and with one final push he empties himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his seed, which feels thick and warm flooding your tender walls. Still panting and sucking in sharp breaths, he falls on top of you, not bothering to pull his cock out of your still spasming cunt, chest flush against yours and head burrowed in the crook of your neck. Spillover runs down your thighs and soaks into the wrinkled sheets, but neither of you bother cleaning it up, the resulting stain surely to give the maids good reason to blush later.
You bring a hand up to his silky curls once more, gently running your fingers through them as you feel the calming thumping of his slowing heartbeat vibrating against your cold skin. As the dawn finally breaks over the still sleeping city, signaling the beginning of a new day in your undead life—for better or for worse—you find comfort in the warmth of his flesh and the sound of his ragged breathing as it gradually steadies. All your suffering, all your pain; if even your death is required to bring him to life, then so be it. He will live for the both of you, and you will love him for it. Forever—for good.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
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566 notes · View notes
justwonder113 · 16 days
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Sharing a bed with Channie
Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;
My Masterlist
Summary: Chan is your rock, your guide your everything. He was also the the only person you could go to when you couldn't sleep. Warning: CURSING- I literally have no shame; GN reader, reader can't sleep. I Know I said it would be like one bed trope series but I feel like it isn't fully it? Like they lay in one bed for 5 minutes before point is shifted? Playful banter between friednds, Chan and reader are best friends and roommates. fluff, friends to lovers. Not proofread. Mention of burying yourself alive? A/N- I know I announced that I would write this eons ago but it took me more time thatn I thought it would. I had a clear vision but while writing this I changed everything like at least 5 times. I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It means the world to me. Please share your thoughts with me and reblog. Also if you have any type of request please I'll be more than glad to write it. Word count-
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You were going to do this! You were not going to back down. You were not a coward! What could happen? The worst thing he could say was no. Big thing! You knew how to take no as an answer... No you didn't.. You would most probably die of shame if he said no. He wouldn't right? No, he is much too kind to deny you of such simple thing. But what if you made him feel uncomfortable? You would rather chew off your own foot than make him do something that makes him uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable yourself. He would tell you if he didn't want it right? You were friends. Quite close ones too. God you were friends! Of course he would find it weird that you wanted to sleep in the same bed. You had nothing explisit in mind tho. You just wanted to sleep next to him. You had trouble sleeping these days and it was starting to affect your everyday life, You were more groggy, more irritable, your head was in the clouds and you couldn't fully concentrate on anything. You tried everything to fix your sleeping schedule but nothing really worked. To say that you were despterate would be an understatement.
For the past 2 weeks the only time you slept peacefully and didn't wake up feeling like shit was when you and Chan fell asleep watching tv. It was the best sleep you had in a while, you woke up feeling like a new person. You were hopeful that you wouldn't experience trouble sleeping like that ever again but sadly nothing had really changed.
You couldn't help but sigh when you saw that it was almost 3 am. You had to get up early too and you had to be on top too. You were going to do it!
You got up from the bed, but before leaving the room you turned back and headed to the mirror. After making sure you were decent at least fifteen times you finally left the room. If it was any other of your friends you wouldn't even thing twice before heading to them, but this was Channie, your channie, the guy you had been hopelessly in love with since forever, but also a guy who only saw you as a friend.
You've read countless times that whenever a person came to their crush with the excuse that they couldn't sleep and/ or had a nightmare(in your case both) their crush always welcomed them with open arms. And they always ended up together after sharing a bed. If there was a fanfiction god you prayed things would go well or you would bury yourself alive and at least that would solve your sleep issues.
You were surprised to see that the lights in his room were on. Was he still working? You had to scold him later, he promised that he wouldn't work until late and would actually try and sleep.
You softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few seconds you knocked again, but also no answer. Maybe he fell asleep you thought. Feeling bad waking him up you felt bad you turned back to return to your room.
To say that you almost had a heart attack when you saw a dark figure looming behind you would be a severe understantment. You even fell back on your butt. Chan's gasp of your name made you realize it was him, he even tried to catch you but couldn't hold onto you on time.
"Oh my god are you okay?" Chan crouched down next to you, he held your face and carefully examined you while you tried to catch your breathe.
"I think I saw god for a second." You gasped out after a few seconds of gasping dramatically. Chan rolled his eyes at you before asking "What were you doing in front of my room?"
You stumbled for a second trying to find a perfect answer. While staring into his eyes all your courage from earlier had disappeared, you felt embarrassed about what you wanted to ask him. Also the fact that he was only in his pyjama pants didn't help at all. Like you also needed to be distracted by his Greek God body! "I wanted to get water and saw that the lights in your room were on." You couldn't be more obvious you were lying but you still hoped he wouldn't pry. Chan looked at you sternly before sighing. "You couldn't sleep?" You wanted to deny but the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn't lie. You could only nod, feeling disappointed in yourself. Chan looked at you for a second before grabbing your hand and leading you into his bedroom.
"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask, when he literally just casually picked you up and put you in the middle of the bed like a pretty decoration on top of a cake. He only told you to stay put and then left the room. You were baffled. You stayed put and only waited for him who quickly returned couple of minutes later with your pillow and the plushie he won for you when you were at the arcade. He instructed to you to get comfortable under the covers and then left again. He took a bit longer this time, but in a minute or two he was back with the cup of tea. Literally how could you not love him? He was so sweet and gentle with you. He really was the most beautiful person to walk this earth both body and soul. You were so touched by this that you forgot all your bashfullness? You leaned in and kissed his cheek. And the bashful smile he gave you?! The butterflies in your stomach were having a french revoluiton.
After you drank your tea, Chan took the glass from you and put it on his nightstang. "Are you comfortable like this? I can go back in my room." You couldn't help but ask. You felt shy laying on his bed next to him. Chan rolled his eyes and got under the cover. You two were so close you could feel his body heat without even touching him.
"I was the one who bought you here so stop overthinking and go to sleep!" Chan grumbled before wrapping his hand around your waist and bringing you closer to his body. You were chest to chest now and your heart was beating so strongly you were worried he would feel it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Christopher Bang Chan! What is this behaviour? What did you do to my shy best friend?" Chan smiled, "when was I ever shy?" Now it was your turn to smile mischeviously, "you're right you always were a little shit." Chan pinched your side making you yelp, you couldn't help but laugh at his distaste. "You're a menace." His voice was low, making you shiver. "Learned it from the best." You quipped quickly.
"Brat."
"You love me."
Chan waited for a second before leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose before muttering, "You're right, I do."
You started at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Your cheeks felt really hot. "What's with the heart fluttering shit you do? Be carefull Christopher or I might fall for you. What are you going to say about that?" Not going to lie you were dying inside wanting to know what would Chan say. Chan opened one eye to look at you and then closed it. You thought that he would ignore you, he cradled you closer to his body. Your face was against the crook of his neck. You felt like you could melt. You felt so warm and secure,the smell of his shower gel and the musky scent of his body really soothed you, you could even feel his carotid pulse. It was comforting his pulse was almost as fast as yours. Maybe you were deluding yourself but what if he felt the same?
The sound of Chans voice bought you down to reality." I would say it's about time, I've been flirting with you for ages!" What the actual fuck? You immediately jumped up and looked at Chan with the most shocked face ever. He's being doing what now?
"You've been flirting with me?" You needed him to say it again. You needed the clarification!
Chan opened his eyes and leaned up, you tried to read his expression but you got nothing. "Yes? Since forever? I'm surprised you hadn't realized."
"You like me?" You couldn't believe your ears.
"Yes? Why are you so shocked?" He sounded genuinely confused.
"Because I thought you only saw me as a friend and well you do have a flirty personality." -You tried to explain, Chris sighed and fully leaned up. He looked at you for a second before putting his hand on your neck and pulling you towards him. You thought he was going to kiss you and your heart basically did a backflip on top of running 500 kilometers per hour, but instead of kissing you on lips he softly kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes whitch you hadn't even realized you had closed, you saw that he was looking and you with the softest gaze ever. You couldn't put it to words but it was type of expression that even if you didn't like him you would fall for him head over heels without a doubt.
"First of all you're literally the hottest person ever with even better personality. I would be a fool to not fall in love with you. So trust me my flirting was genuine. Now the second, you always flirted back, you weren't being genuine?" His question bought you aback and you started stammering for an answer but you stopped when you heard him chucke. "Okay okay I'm just teasing. I know you were being sincere. And I'm also aware you have a crush on me. It's cute actually. " His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased you. You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him sensless.
"I hate you so much sometimes." You couldn't help but groan. You were feeling beyond embarrassed, both because you knew that he liked you back and because he had known you liked him. What an asshole why did it take him this long to say anything? Chan leaned in and placed another peck on your cheek, making you sigh quietly. "Your raging crush on me says otherwise."
"Oh shut up!" You did smack him on the arm this time. Chan's cuckle filled the room and you couldn't help but also laugh. You felt like a lovesick teenager but you didn't really mind it. Chan's one hand was still on your neck rubbing the thumb mindlessly along your skin, his warm hand not failing to send shiver aftee shiver down your spine, while his other hand was on your waist keeping you close to him. He acted like the thought for a second before muttering "Good idea." And leaning towards you, your lips so close they slightly grazed each other with each breath.
"Can I kiss you?" God were you dreaming? You even pinched yourself and you were awake! Fanfiction God really did exist apparently. You would have to thank them later.
Much to your dismay after kissing each other for so long that your lips were already starting to buzz Chan decieed to lean back. You chased after his lips, you didn't care that your lips were buzzing, you felt like you could kiss him until your lips fell off. You felt like you had been deprived of him all your life and you felt greedy now once you got the taste of him.
You nodded eagerly, making Chan's smile deepen. And he closed the distance. Chan, your lovely Channie, your best friend and closest companion, the guy you could trust with your life and your longtime crush was kissing you. And it felt beyond majestic. It was everything you had imagined and so much more! His lips were so soft, so warm and felt so nice against yours. Your whole body was like set ablaze and despite feeling so so many times today you felt like melting, like your bones were liquifying. Only he could make you feel that way. So confused and so hopelessly in love. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, Chris mirrored it and soon you were full on chuckling between giving each other short pecks. You love how lighthearted and fun everything was with Chris but also very deep and meaningful and how he always made you feel so secure. Really, how could you not love him?
Chan smiled and gave you a short peck. Then he brought you closed to his body and hugged you. "I really like you, heck I might even love you, this might sound cheesy and I know your menace butt is going to tease me after this but be mine?"
What a dork. You hugged him closer and kissed his neck. "I think I also love you too. And I will tease you about it most definitely, but yes, I will be yours." Chan smiled with his pretty dimples fully on display, he kissed your forehead and then helped you get comfortable on his bed. You felt so calm and peaceful despite your heart still running like crazy, you could feel the sleep approaching. Oh yeah you had insomnia, how funny.
A/N- I really hope you liked it, I will fix mistakes later my eyes are burning at this point. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading❤️
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ancuninfiles · 28 days
Text
Bite Night
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Gif by @astarionposting
18+ MDNI - M/F - Astarion x Tav (Baldur's Gate 3) - Words: 3.6K
Tags: smut, somnophilia (if you squint), non-consensual vampire bites, blood drinking, enthusiastic consent (sex), vaginal fingering, P in v, creampie, mating press, outdoor sex, soft Astarion, sorcerer Tav, nondescript Tav, Aftercare, idealized version of events, no beta we die like cazador
Summary: It has been 3 days since the nautiloid crash. Tav may be the sweetest person that Astarion has ever met. Night falls, and he is overcome with intense feelings of hunger. Tav sleeps alone, peacefully by the fire. He can hear her pulse from the treeline, and it invites him in. Or... could it be more than her pulse inviting him in?
Sorry, Idk how to write summaries. :,)
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Astarion had never met someone like Tav. She was so kind to him, despite their first meeting beginning with him holding a dagger to her throat after having tricked her into thinking he needed help. It was interesting to note that in retrospect, Tav being a sorcerer, could have easily used Shocking Grasp on him while he held her, pinned beneath his blade. She, instead, was oddly compliant. 
__________
“I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod.” Astarion cooed
Tav looked up at him with eyes half-closed and eyebrows knitted together, nodding. A look he could only assume was partially caused by the sun beating down on her face. It was as if she completely surrendered to him, going practically limp in his arms, which made him soften his grip slightly.
“Splendid, and now you're going to tell me what you and those tentacle freaks did to me.” he peered down at her, eyes briefly flicking to her neck and then up to her eyes again. Despite her relaxed form, her pulse was quickened and it was distracting. Astarion's mouth started to water slightly.
“I- I didn't do anything… I was abducted, same as you!” She pleaded.
“Don't lie to me. I- AUGH” Astarion yelped, as a purple aura surrounded both him and Tav. Their minds were suddenly connected, he was able to peer into her thoughts and feel what she was feeling. 
To his surprise, her mind had been focused on compassion towards him, the man holding a blade to her throat. “He and I have the same problem. These tadpoles. And he is likely reeling after all this. He could be a good ally to have.” 
Astarion's mind had then shared broken pieces of his past with Tav. Pieces that he would have rather kept to himself, but nothing incriminating yet. “What was that!? What's going on!?” He raised his voice.
Tav's was panting as if their minds connecting had worn her out. “You saw into my mind, it was the parasites! They connected us.” She said, with her eyebrows still knitted. Her mouth was agape and she took one last big breath before calming her expression. 
Her breath smelled of mint, and her hair smelled like lavender. ‘Gods, her scent, her pulse, her expression. Everything is distracting about her.’ he thought to himself. 
Although he would have loved to hold her for longer, grab her hair and sink his teeth into her flesh, he decided against it. Feeling confident that she was not a threat, he released her. They maintained eye contact with one another as they both slowly stood up.
‘She wants to be my ally’ he thought to himself.
__________
They had picked up a couple more allies on their misadventure so far. A cleric with an odd name and an annoying wizard who talks too much. Tav seemed naive. She was picking up strays left and right. Were these others to be trusted?
Tav had a way of making everyone feel accepted and comfortable. “If you need anything, please let me know. I don't care if I'm sleeping, reading, or otherwise busy, you can wake me up. I want to help.” she exclaimed to the whole group with an earnest look in her eye. She made sure to look at everyone in their eyes when she said this. 
‘Gods, she couldn't be more sweet. So tempting.’ He thought to himself. He wondered if she would taste as sweet as she acted, but no, he had to stop thinking things like that. Even Tav would surely end him if he were to slightly hint at the fact that he was a monster. 
Besides, Cazador would most definitely flay him for drinking the blood of a thinking creature. Although, the parasite had granted him immunity from the sun. Maybe Cazador can't control him at all anymore.
__________
It was time to settle in for the night. They had an exhausting day looking for a healer, which they had to fight through a hoard of goblins to get to. It had been 3 nights since the nautiloid crash, and Astarion had already snuck off the previous night to find  a boar, which he stupidly left in the middle of the road. Tav and the cleric had fixated on it. The cleric had pointed out that the boar had been left fully intact but without blood. To Astarion's dismay, these stangers were smarter than he initially had thought.
Tav was so exhausted that she had fallen asleep beside the fire, while everyone else left to their tents. She was a powerful ally indeed. Tav and Astarion carried the team, while the wizard was frequently coming within an inch of death and you would have thought the cleric was blind because she missed almost every shot. 'Leave it to Gale to cover the ground in grease and then slip in it and fall prone, himself', Astarion thought.
While everyone was sleeping, Astarion slipped away into a clearing in the woods to have some privacy and decompress after all that's happened, for the first time since the nautiloid crash. Finally able to be alone with his thoughts, Astarion's memories of his master plagued him. It was as if he were there, reciting his rules. 
First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.
Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.
Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.
Four, thou shalt know that thou art mine.
'Terrifying. So much for being alone with one's thoughts' Astarion thought. He left the clearing in distress, feeling like he was being stalked by Cazador. 'He can't control me anymore, I can walk in the sun...' Astarion told himself, in an effort to calm himself down. A burning feeling climbed up his throat. He was starving. Exerting himself more than usual was likely to blame. He had to find something to eat, soon.
__________
Astarion made his way back to camp, stopping at the tree line to assess the state of the camp. Sweet Tav was still sleeping soundly by the fire. Sweet Tav's words replayed in his head. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I don't care if I am sleeping". Sweet Tav who had shown him compassion almost immediately after he had pulled a dagger to her throat. Sweet Tav whose breath was minty, whose hair smelled of lavender, and whose pulse sounded so beautiful; hypnotic. 
Astarion snuck close enough to Tav to see her throat, so beautifully exposed. An easy target. Tav was wearing nothing but a thin silky nightgown with small flimsy straps. Her supple legs were exposed and glistened in the firelight. The wind blew and her scent wafted into Astarion's face. 
This was too much for Astarion to bear any longer. He slowly and stealthily climbed atop Tav, making sure not to wake her. He held his breath, he didn't need to breathe anyway. She was lying on her back, so Astarion slotted his leg between her thighs and placed his left elbow on the ground beside her head. He used his right hand to tilt her chin to the side slowly and gently brush her hair away from her pulse point. 'Formalities' he thought. Astarion slowly lowered his open maw onto Tav's throat. Finally puncturing the skin, blood started flowing into his mouth as he latched on almost like a feral animal. Tav's blood was ambrosia, it tasted like nothing he had ever tasted before. It was sweet, but complex like a fine-aged wine.
He could no longer control himself, he was sure to wake her. He tightly grabbed onto Tav's hair with his right fist and pushed her neck into his lips. It was then that he heard a sweet mewl coming from Tav. 'Of course, she would be moaning when a monster is consuming her.' Astarion groaned into her neck and brought his knee flush up to Tav's core. Tav began to writhe beneath him, arching her back and slowly bucking her hips on his knee. She was enjoying this. A desire started building in Astarion's lower abdomen, causing his cock to strain against his pants. 
Astarion continued to take generous gulps of Tav's blood, running his tongue across her pulse point to try and force more blood out, faster. He let loose a primal groan into Tav's throat and then repositioned himself so that his clothed cock was pressing into Tav's exposed cunt. She accommodated Astarion and wrapped her legs around his pelvis with tact and enthusiasm. Tav reached her right hand up to Astarion's curls, but Astarion grabbed her wrist and pinned it beside her head. Tav moaned, but her rutting became slower, as did her pulse. 
"Astarion - I" Tav whispered. Astarion finally came to and unlatched his teeth. His brows knitted together as he licked, and pressed his tongue firmly against her wound to soothe Tav and congeal the blood. He placed a chaste kiss on her neck, and then slowly started releasing her wrist, but Tav let out a breathy whine into his ear and grabbed his left hand, lacing her fingers with his. Perplexed, he looked up at Tav with round eyes. She was gazing at their laced hands. Astarion eyed her fresh puncture marks to make sure the bleeding had seized, and then gently tilted her head to face him. 
Her eyes were wet and filled with lust. Her chest was heaving, her cheeks were flushed, and her pupils were blown out.  "Why did you stop?" Her voice came out breathy, almost a whisper. 
Astarion smirked, "Oh, you sweet, generous thing." 
Tav's left hand came up to touch Astarion's face in a gentle caress while her right hand was still affectionately connected with his left. She eyed his lips, taking in the blood on his chin and swiping it softly with her thumb. Her eyes fluttered back up to meet his gaze, but he was eyeing her lips as she had his. 
Tav's lips were the same colour as her blushing cheeks. They were seductively parted. Astarion's gaze shifted back to Tav's eyes again, as she caressed his face with her thumb. Such a gentle little thing, and after what he had just done to her. He ought to feel shame for taking from her. 'She is so beautiful' he thought. The firelight flickered in her wet, sleepy eyes. Her hair was gorgeously spread amongst her bedroll. She was like an angel, no, a goddess. It was hard to believe she was real, or that someone could even forgive him for what he had done to her, let alone want him to continue. He looked at her with concern in his eyes which were becoming wet themselves.
Tav's hand slithered shakily to the nape of Astarion's neck. "I want you if you'll have me." She smiled earnestly, her eyes curled with her smile like tiny rainbows. She caressed his nape as she did his chin. "Please, Astarion." She sang
His name sounded like a melody on her lips. She was a siren, pulling him in with her song. Pulling him in, to drown in her. Their lips crashed like the waves in the Sea of Fallen Stars. They moaned into each other as their tongues danced around one another's teeth, exploring, and tasting. Astarion didn't want to stop until he had tasted every corner of her maw. Their kiss was bruising and sloppy. Tav made advances with her tongue as well, and she opened her mouth wide enough to let Astarion explore deeply.  Her mouth tasted as minty as it smelled, and his mouth tasted like her blood. He paid extra mind to not hurt her with his fangs. 
One of her hands tangled in his hair and the other hand rested on his back. He pressed his pelvis closer to her's and he groped her soft flesh with one of his hands, hastily exploring her body and reaching under her nightgown to grab her breast. He pinched her nipple and rubbed it between his fingers. Tav let out a higher-pitched moan in his mouth. He snaked his hands down to her exposed and throbbing core. She was unbelievably soaked. Finally lifting his mouth from hers, he looks at her with a smirk and says "You are positively dripping for me, darling." He started rubbing slow circles on her clit and her back arched, seeking more from Astarion.
 She groaned. "I want you inside me, please." Her eyes pleading and her words drifted out in a soft sigh. She was squirming slowly and weakly. The poor thing was so weak from the blood loss.
He peered down at her face which seemed to be blushing more and more, and her skin was now glistening with a thin layer of sweat. "Only because you ask so sweetly." He exclaimed before plunging two digits inside of her, working her open. She hummed in a whiney tone, which only egged him on further. His fingers curled up as he patiently started getting her hole ready for his cock. Her mouth opened and her eyes nearly rolled back into her head. She was the most enchanting creature in all of Faerün. He wanted to do anything for her, and he wanted to bury his cock entirely between her legs.
His free hand pushed her nightgown above her breasts, exposing her naked and writing body to the night air. It hadn't occurred to him until then that they were in the middle of camp. The cleric and the wizard could catch them, but Tav seemed unbothered. Astarion had noticed that his senses were much sharper after drinking Tav's blood. He realized he was confident enough that he would hear anyone coming long before they could see anything. 
His fingers started to pump into her faster, and he palmed her clit. Her breathing became heavy and jagged. "I'm so close! Astarion!" She moaned his name as her pussy fluttered around his digits. He fingered her through her orgasm, only pulling away when she started to twitch at the touch of her clit. She inhaled deeply and let out a groan. Her head fell back and her breasts rose and fell with each exasperated breath. "Hmm, you are wonderful, Astarion." She hummed with a bright smile on her face.
Astarion crept up to meet her eyes with his, "You're unbelievably beautiful." He said sincerely. She looked up at him with her pleading eyes again. He brushed her hair with his fingers and admired her features. He brought her into a molten kiss that both burned and bruised their lips. His hand caressed her naked torso, gripping her in every place he could before landing his strong grasp on her ass. Their kiss flew apart and she let out an exceptionally whiney moan and looked down to where his clothed cock was.
His cock was beginning to strain unbearably against his pants. He expertly unlaced his trousers and his large member sprang free, glistening with precum. He glanced down at her soaking core, her thighs were covered in her cum. He hooked her knees over his biceps and he teased her entrance with his cock. He groaned and exhaled, and looked at her face so he could read her expressions. Her brows scrunched in anticipation.
"Hmmm please fuck me. I want you to fill me up so bad." she sobbed and clenched her jaw. 
Astarion groaned "I love it when you plead for me, little love. Your voice sounds so sweet. Please tell me if you want me to stop, can you do that for me?" 
She bit her lip and looked him in the eye, again with that sweet look on her face. "Mmhm"  she nodded.
He didn't need any more confirmation from her as he slowly sunk his cock into her hole. Her mouth opened slightly and she started breathing heavier. He pulled out all the way and stroked her wetness onto his shaft. He sunk back down into her languidly until he finally was fully inside. He grunted at the feeling, and she was breathing heavier than ever. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes were wet.
"Are you okay, sweet love?" He said with concern as he stilled inside her.
"Mmm yeah. You're just - so big, I've never had someone -reach into me so deeply. It doesn't - hurt, I promise" she spoke softly. Panting throughout her sentence. "It feels, so good" she whined.
His cock twitched at her enthusiasm and she moaned quietly. "Oh darling, I am going to fill you right up," he said as he pulled back and then snapped his hips into her. He leaned down to her and stroked her cheek as he kissed her jaw. "Precious." He whispered in her ear.
He began rutting into her at a consistent pace. She pulled his shirt up to feel more of his skin against hers. She was so warm compared to him, her aura engulfed him like the fire they lay next to, consuming the carbon in a flickering rage. She was so tight, and warm, and wet. He wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to last, but he knew he wanted to make her cum one more time before he finished.
He reached down to her clit, and started rubbing tight quick circles. She moaned between her teeth and the muscles in her legs tensed. Her mouth fell agape and she started panting beautifully. "That's it, good girl. Cum on my cock." 
His words were enough to send her over the edge, and her cunt clenched and fluttered around his cock. He fucked her through her orgasm, only stopping his attention on her nub when she was pulling away. He readjusted her legs atop his shoulders, and her knees were practically beside her head. He was able to reach deeper in her than before, and his cock was hitting her sweet spot at a perfect angle. 
"Do you want me to fill you with my cum, darling? Is that what you want?" He teased as he fucked her mercilessly.
"Yes!" She begged, "Please, I need you to fuck your cum into me!" 
Her lewd suggestion sent him toppling over into his own climax, and he pressed himself deeply into her folded form. Groaning as his head fell to her side, he placed chaste kisses on her neck where he had bitten earlier. She could feel his cock twitching deep inside her, his spend spurting on her walls and dripping down her ass. He pulled out a few inches and then slammed back into her again, stuffing his cock into her deepest depths, making sure that her desires are met and that his seed has thoroughly coated every corner of her tight, quivering hole. 
They stayed connected for many long moments and then eventually they both rolled over to lie on their sides, facing one another. They stared deeply into each other's eyes. Astarion pulled his pants back up, and Tav lay sleepily with her flesh still exposed. "This won't do." He said as he scooped her up with his arms.
"Oh!" She squeaked, as Astarion carried her bridal style to his tent.
He lay Tav down on his bedroll. "One moment, love, I will be right back!" He said with newfound energy.
Astarion searched for one of the most soft fabrics that he had kept for future sewing projects. He found the silky red cloth and he soaked it with water from the river. It was cold, but it will have to do. He made long strides back to his tent to find Tav, who was almost sleeping. 
"This is going to be a bit cold, little bird." He cooed. He then ran the damp cloth along her most vulnerable parts. She hummed sleepily and smiled as he slowly cleaned her up with seemingly the highest degree of care. He then took the same cloth and cleaned himself up briefly. 
The night was warm, but Tav, being alive, was more susceptible to the temperature. He only had his brown boyish blanket in his tent, so he quickly went to Tav's tent and snagged all of her pillows and blankets to bring them back to her in his tent. She was like a sleepy doll. He propped her head up on the softest pillow and covered her body in the warmest blankets. She sleepily hummed with glee, and Astarion looked at her snuggled up in the blankets, admiring his handiwork. 
He changed into a fresh set of night clothes and then joined her under the blankets. He faced her and affectionately brushed his fingers across her cheek and under her ear. His palm rested on her cheek and his thumb stroked her cheekbone. He would speak to her about all this in the morning, and apologize for feasting upon her like a ravenous beast; but for now, she was in his arms and he felt an unyielding desire to take care of her. She nuzzled into him and kissed his hand. He leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead. She turned around so her backside was facing him. She scooted back to connect with him. His touch was soothing and cool against her under the warm blanket. He froze for a moment at the overwhelming affection, and then he fell into her and held her tight. 
He didn't know exactly what these feelings were, but he knew that this was nice.
They both closed their eyes, and Tav fell into a deep sleep. Astarion began to trance. He didn't know it yet, but this would be the best trance he would have in 200 years.
Author notes:
HEY. Thanks for reading if you made it this far. I actually haven't really ever written anything before, and I don't plan on writing anymore. It took a really long time, and it was way harder for me than I thought. The number of times I had to look at synonyms. Ffs... lol. But YEAH. I actually don't have much of an interest in writing anyways so it's all good. Srsly kudos to any of you who are writing fics, especially the lengthy ones. I have no idea how you do it. Every paragraph is a brain fart for me. Please don't mind any mistakes. I used grammarly, and I TRIED MY BEST LOL. ANYWAYS, LOVE YOU, SMOOCHIES.
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inuyashaluver · 1 month
Note
I loved Sleepy Girl so much and I somehow just came up with an angsty part two, where Y/N drives back home alone after practice and gets in a car accident and is in a coma and Leah tells her something along the lines ‘I never wanted you to wake up more now, please open those eyes’ or something like that. I WOULD DIE WITH YOUR WRITING, it would be so so perfect
sleepy girl [ part 2 ] - leah williamson
leah williamson x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
description: in which your sleepiness that was once leah’s favourite became one of her nightmares
warnings: angsty but happy happy ending, my loves, mentions of: injuries, hospital, unconscious reader, tears, swearing, longgg
a/n: when i wreck all the softness with sadness and then give you more softness because i’m nice, my goodness - first REALLY angsty fic, i hope i did you all justice!! also you are so sweet, thank you so much, baby!
read part one here!!
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
no matter the time or place, you were still the same. you were leah’s sleepy girl.
your ability to fall asleep on your girlfriend still as prominent as ever, happening anywhere and everywhere.
now that leah had returned, your ‘leah training naps’ were used up to your advantage like no tomorrow. taking every opportunity to fall asleep on your girlfriend.
you were both training with arsenal, training finally finished and proving to be quite a difficult one.
important matches were approaching, so it only made sense that the intensity and demand of training was heightened.
leah had gone into the change rooms first while you were talking to alessia and kyra about a new movie you and leah had watched in cinema.
though, your words got cut short when a yawn escaped your mouth and the two girls chatting with you immediately laugh.
alessia grabs your arm while kyra pushes you from behind, teasing you as they entered the change room.
leah was already showered, dressed in sweats and a hoodie that had her looking so warm and inviting. she was scrolling on her phone waiting for you.
“delivery!” alessia grins, pushing you into the lap of your girlfriend who barely had time to put her phone down to catch you.
leah took one look at your face to realise what the cheeky grins from the younger girls were for. “do i need to sign?” leah teases, her hand holding your thigh as you buried your face into her neck. she feels the vibration of your laugh on her skin and she can’t help but smile.
“already sleepy, my girl?” leah asks fondly, her hand moving to cradle your head to her while the other rested on your thigh, her thumb brushing over the skin gently.
you hum in response, pressing a gentle kiss to where her neck met her shoulder. “you smell nice” you mumble against her skin, “you’re so cute” she coos, kissing your forehead while you quite literally melted into her.
and before you knew it, you dozed off. leah chuckled when she felt your dead weight against her.
her hand moving from the back of your head to rest under your training top, rubbing gentle circles on the skin of your back.
“like clockwork” she teases gently, sending small smiles to people that would smile at the two of you and send glares to the ones being a little too loud.
“bethany, turn around and walk the other fucking way” leah whisper shouts, already knowing what was going to happen just by the shit eating grin on the girl’s face.
“i’m not doing anything, relax” beth laughs, sitting beside leah and giving a couple smirks to the few people left in the room.
“(y/n) fire!” beth yells, getting a harsh slap on the leg from leah that had the girl wincing.
surprisingly, you didn’t wake up.
“well that’s just concerning” lia grins, leah rolls her eyes at both of them. “can you please let my girlfriend sleep peacefully for two seconds?” she pleads, still whispering, she freezes when you nuzzle into her further, letting out a heavy sigh against her skin that gave her goosebumps.
“(y/n), leah’s leaving!” alessia yells, laughing brightly as you stir awake, “good to know where her priorities are, leah’s buzzing” alessia grins, leah didn’t deny it, her cheeks did get a little pink when your confused face moved from her neck.
“you’re leaving?” you mumble sadly, wrapping your arms around her neck. leah immediately coos, you were the cutest person in the world.
“no, baby, i’m not going anywhere” she kisses all over your face, pulling you closer to her while she flips off the three teasing girls who were now dispersing from the change room.
you pull away from her slightly to face her, giving her your signature sleepy smile before placing a sweet kiss on her lips. she hums against you, your lips moving together tenderly as you drew her in closer by her neck.
“you ready to go?” she mumbles between your kisses, you only pulling away to give her a gentle nod, a couple of quick pecks pressed against her mouth making her giggle softly.
you stand up and stretch with a loud groan, “that was a good nap, babe, thanks!” you say cheekily, holding up your hand for a high five.
she chuckles, high-fiving you but interlacing your fingers together, pulling you to her by your interlocked hands and placing a kiss to the top of your knuckles.
“anytime, gorgeous” she smiles at you charmingly, grabbing both of your bags and walking out together.
arsenal was having a day full of media, usually one of your favourite days because they always paired you up with your girlfriend.
you both weren’t called up yet, having the time to relax before you both had to film. and of course, you took advantage of the situation, running over to her with an excited smile as she chatted with lia.
“hey, baby, i was looking for you” she smiles as you approached, bending down slightly to place a quick kiss to your lips in greeting.
“how many naps have you had today, (y/n/n)?” lia grins at you, “none yet, i’m due for one” you say cheekily, giving your girlfriend a suggestive smile.
“can i help you with something?” she chuckles, you only smile at her in response, placing your hands on her hips to pull her closer to you.
lia got called for media and she waves you both goodbye, both of you barely registering it with the way you were staring at each other.
“my gorgeous, beautiful, amazing girlfriend-” you start, “we can take a nap, babe” she laughs as you immediately perk up, grabbing her hand and running to a beanbag.
you push her down on it and lay on top of her, immediately cuddling into her as she wrapped her arms around you. and in a short time, you fell asleep. leah smiled fondly when your steady breaths grazed her skin.
you slept for about an hour before you were called up with leah, receiving numerous kisses to your forehead as you woke up slowly. “come on, baby” leah whispers, “no” you whine, refusing to move as leah tried to wake you up.
“please” leah cooed, resting her head on top of yours while her arms encircled your waist. “lee” you groan, holding yourself up to hover over her,
“you’re so pretty” leah smiles up at you, making you go slightly pink in the cheeks as she looked at you adoringly.
she pulls you down for a kiss, somehow managing to drag you off the beanbag, wrapped around her like a koala as she carried you over to a table with challenges on it for a video.
“sorry we’re late” leah grins, the media team laughing when you give them a tired smile and wave.
you both did media for around an hour and a half, about to leave together before you get asked to do an individual interview. you look at leah with a pout and she laughs,
“it’s alright, baby, take my car and i’ll go home with viv and beth” leah assures, pulling you into a little hug. “you sure?” you mumble against her.
“i don’t want you being stuck here so take the car, i’ll go home and start dinner” leah assures, her hand cradling your cheek as you look up at her sadly.
“it’s only a couple of hours” she smiles, looking right into your eyes with blown out pupils. you nod reluctantly, puckering your lips at her.
she closes the gap, placing a few soft kisses to your lips before she ushers you to get back to work.
“i love you” she whispers against your lips, “i love you too” you say back instantly, pressing your lips to hers before she waves at you.
“don’t make smileys for dinner!” you yell out after her, “no promises!” you laugh brightly as she matches your energy, sitting down to answer your interview.
you do your media duties, sending leah a message you were about to leave colney. you go to leah’s car and begin the drive home, you were driving in the familiar streets, relatively residential areas you passed everyday.
you were about to turn into a street, just one away from your home where leah was waiting for you.
that’s when a car came out of nowhere, you saw it coming and you couldn’t do anything about it, unable to move. the car pulled out of the junction without even stopping and swiped the front of your car.
you breathing quickened, a scream escaping your throat at how fast the car came at you, you felt your legs trapped, hitting your head harshly on the side of the car from the impact.
the airbag deployed and sent you jolting back in your seat. the seatbelt kept you safe but also grazed the side of your neck painfully.
all you could think about was leah.
from the hit to your temple, you passed out immediately and didn’t know the severity of the crash.
your car had flipped completely on its side, you were knocked out cold. witnesses immediately called for emergency services, the other car damaged as well but he was completely unscathed. (he got a hell of a law suit)
leah was worried by how long it had taken you to come home, especially without notice. she called your phone, it rang 4 times, you always picked up on 1. she paced around the front door waiting to see your dazzling smile walk through that door.
the phone picked up, “baby, where are you? are you okay?” she rushed out, barely giving who she thought was you time to respond.
“sorry, are you this girl’s partner?” a woman’s voice on the other side of the phone. “uh, sorry yes, who is this?” leah felt her heart beating out of her chest, why did this strange woman have your phone.
“i’m a paramedic, i have your girlfriend in the ambulance with me and it’s very serious, do you think you could make your way to the hospital?” leah flatlined right there.
“excuse me? what the fuck happened, what’s wrong with my girlfriend?” leah feels tears welling in her eyes, scrambling to get her shoes on and rushing out of the door.
she was so thankful your car that was barely used was here, getting details of the accident as she rushed to the hospital.
when she reaches the front desk, she’s full on sobbing at this point.
“my girlfriend’s been in an accident, can you help me find her?” she breathes out, the nurse at the front immediately knew who she was talking about.
“you must be leah, ms (y/l/n) is currently in surgery, she’s lost a lot of blood and has a few serious gashes to her head and neck” the nurse explains carefully, the tears rush down leah’s cheeks as she hears the details, internally cursing herself for not waiting for you.
“she’s also broken her wrist, i’m so sorry but you’re going to have to wait until she’s out of the operating theatre to see her” the nurse says sympathetically, directing leah to a chair outside the theatre.
leah’s leg bounced as she waited for you, sobbing as she called your family, her family, jonas. she felt so guilty, her heart completely shattered thinking about how scared you probably were. wishing she was there for you.
this wasn’t supposed to happen. you were supposed to be at home, cuddling, sleeping. not in a fucking hospital getting poked and prodded to keep you alive.
you finally get rolled out of the operating theatre and leah rushes up, gasping when she sees you. you have a tube in your mouth, drips attached to your arms and bandages around the head, your arms. you looked so frail. leah began to cry again.
“baby” she breathes out, holding onto the bed when they transfer you into the intensive care unit. “she’s stable” the doctor assures, “she’s going to be okay” he nods, answering her like he can read her mind.
the nurse explains you’re in a coma, and probably will be for a bit but it’s surprisingly not too serious.
they assure leah that the paramedics got to you in time, your injuries sustained were treatable and can be managed easily with time and patience. something leah had an endless amount for you.
leah sits down beside you with a heavy sigh, shakily grabbing your hand and holding it gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.
“my girl” she said tearfully, her forehead pressed into your thigh. she listened to the faint beeping in the room, your heartbeat steady.
people came in and out to see you and leah hardly ever left your side, it had been two weeks since the accident, the amount of love and support being sent your way was honestly overwhelming for leah.
she took care of you diligently, only going home when it was necessary and it was never more than an hour.
regularly rushing over from training despite the pleas of jonas and the girls telling her to take time off. but she knew you wouldn’t want that, you’d hate the fact she barely left to take care of herself.
“always been such a sleepy girl” she smiles, brushing stray hairs from your face as she sat beside you. “i miss you so much, baby” she sniffs, a tear escaping her eye as she looked at you. you didn’t require your tube anymore, only requiring an oxygen mask.
you wounds were healing well, you were recovering. slowly but leah didn’t care, wanting you to get the best care possible and she made sure of it.
“at training, beth told me laura taught myle another new trick, when you’re up, maybe we can go and see baby myle, i’m sure she misses her favourite auntie” she smiles, her finger curling and brushing your cheek gently.
“everyone sends you their love, no one more than me though, for my special baby” she chuckles, adjusting your blankets in an attempt to make you as comfortable as possible.
she lets out a heavy sigh with a pained smile, holding your hand again as she just looked at you. she knew she looked awful, having barely any sleep. but how could she, you were in bed all day while she waited for you to wake up. she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy.
“i don’t think i’ve ever wanted you to wake up more than right now” she says tearfully, “please just wake up, baby” she chokes out, crying into her arm on the bed while the other gripped your hand.
that’s when she felt your hand twitch slightly, her head snapped up to look at you. you went still again. “(y/n)” she breathes out, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at you. your finger twitched again in her hold, everything went quiet.
“it’s okay, darling, i’m here, beautiful” she utters, “wake up for me, gorgeous” she pleads, your hand fully grips hers then and she freezes, you begin to stir and she yells for a nurse, she comes rushing in and immediately calls for your doctor, your eyes slowly begin to open and you’re very disoriented.
“hey, sleepy head” leah laughs with tears, in disbelief and relief you finally woke up.
the doctors rush in and check your vitals, showing good signs physically but also being able to identify your name, the year, the last thing you did.
leah cried out in relief, watching as you slowly came to your senses.
when the doctors start explaining what happened to you, everything made sense, you nodded along with them, processing everything with tears running down your cheeks.
when you start to remember everything, you gasp, suddenly screaming for leah, her eyes widen, “baby, breathe, i’m here” she asserts, smoothing down your hair and sitting on the edge of your bed directly next to you, making sure to face you.
“leah, the car” you cry, hyperventilating as you looked at her with wild eyes, “forget about the car-” leah says sternly,
“no, i fucking crashed your car, your expensive car, oh my god” you breathe out, the nurses and doctors stand their awkwardly but this was actually a good sign, showing how well you have recovered.
“baby, don’t worry about it, please, listen to the doctor” she scolds slightly, squeezing your hand but you begin to cry harder. “leah, no, the car-” you sob.
“you’ve somehow got it in your fucking head that i care about the car more than you!” leah exclaims,
“you’re the only thing i care about, so forget about the car” leah reprimands.
“we’ll give you two a minute” the doctor smiles, leah giving them a nod as they all get out of the room.
“i’m so sorry” you cry, leah tutts, pulling you to her chest, her hand cradling your head to her chest.
“there’s nothing to be sorry about, baby girl” leah says softly in your ear.
she pulls back to look you in the eyes, “the stupid car can be replaced, you, my love, cannot” she shakes her head, looking right into your eyes to tell you she was serious.
she kisses your forehead softly, hugging you gently as if you were the most fragile thing in the universe.
you stayed in the hospital for another week, doing check ups and tests, groaning every time you had to do one and gaining a very icy glare from leah.
she took a week off when you were discharged, taking care of you like you did with her acl injury. barely any breaks. focusing on the other’s health rather than your own. you truly were perfect for each other.
“lee, i don’t want another cup of tea, I want you!” you plead, pawing at her to sit down with you for just two minutes without her scrambling to do something else.
she was incredibly strict with you, barely letting you do anything for yourself despite your assurance you were fine.
leah was flat on the couch as you lay on top of her, sleeping against her gently as she rubbed her hands over your back.
she’s never missed something so much, so simple, although, whenever you were sleeping she couldn’t help but watch you.
she would watch to make sure you were breathing normally, making sure you would wriggle in her embrace when it got tight knowing you were actually alive. you didn’t know about this. but you knew leah cared about you. you felt it everywhere.
the way this girl would just stare at you in astonishment more than usual was heartstopping. leah had a lot of respect for you but even more knowing you’ve been fighting for your life for the past couple of weeks.
she treated you like a fragile flower, afraid to see you break again under her fingertips. you were so incredibly grateful for leah, thanking her profusely with sweet kisses every time she did something for you.
you both confided in each other, telling the other side of the story and gaining that closure you both needed. you were both handling it so healthily, it was beautiful to see.
leah made you laugh, she held you when you cried and assured you everything would be alright. and you felt like it truly was, because you had leah. your leah.
about a year later, you made your return to the pitch. leah cried when you ran out on the field, hastily wiping her tears as you passed her, blowing her a kiss as you took your position in an arsenal game.
the roar of the crowd was deafening at a sold out emirates, only getting louder when you scored a goal, getting hoisted up on leah’s waist while she kissed your cheek repeatedly.
you cradle her face in between your hands, pressing a tender kiss to her lips as she let you slip from her waist to the ground. you both shared a knowing look, all the hard work had been worth it for this moment. having each other at your weakest points proving to be everything and more.
when you both made it to the change room, you collapsed onto leah’s lap, falling asleep quickly and having the girl smiling affectionately.
all the girls smile as they walked passed, happy to see the sight of you and leah in your little bubble. everyone was so grateful you were back.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you know the drill, just pretend it’s you xx ily beffy
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liked by alessia and 44,232 others
leahwilliamsonn: 387 days, 4 months and 23 days, the strongest person i know is back and better than ever, i love you more than life, welcome home, my sleepy girl❤️🤍
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yourname: the strongest person I KNOW, i love you so more
↳ leahwilliamsonn: impossible
↳ yourname: extremely possible
bethmead_: never thought i’d miss seeing your little sloth sleeping on you in my life but i did
↳ alessia: me too
↳ leahwilliamsonn: me too
↳ yourname: me too, i was deprived of my leah naps
↳ leahwilliamsonn: let’s make up for lost time
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harleehazbinfics · 3 months
Text
A tainted dove.
hazbin hotel x devout!reader devout series
Note: i could expand this more but lmao it's already long as it is. react down below if you wanna see more!
You lived as a sister for the church in your past life. You always followed the rules, devoted yourself to praying and doing charity work. You enjoyed that kind of life that just helped people and feel appreciated for your services.
However, most people in the convent didn't seem pleased with you being such a "goodie two shoes" and "outshining" the other sisters, by things holy, even the Father seemed to dislike how well liked you were in the community that he sent you off to a far and remote place.
There was no electricity, a scheduled running water system and there was very little livestock from the extreme climate that most animals die before they reach their first spring. There was only one other person there in the church as well, he was a Father that helped and did services for this small community. He was too old and frail to do tasks outside the community but he had to do it since be was the only one that the people here could depend on.
You could see how extremely happy he was when he found you at his doorstep lending a hand in his mission.
You lived peacefully there with the Father and the villagers, attending mass, helping cultivate the land by going to the next town that you had to travel on foot to get to with how remote the terrain was, and just generally trying to make everyone be happy despite the unfortunate circumstances.
However, men came and destroyed the village, setting it ablaze. You hurriedly evacuated the people to hide and take them to the nearest village for help.
Unfortunately, you were caught and imprisoned by these men, and were defiled as you died by your injuries to resist them, ending futile.
•°•°•°•°
When you sat and looked at the crimson sky your broken wing made it unable for you to fly feeling very detached from yourself.
You did everything they asked, you became a very good sister until your dying breath only to end up here. Were you fed lies? Or, was this the fate you were already dealt?
Collapsing from the stress, you failed to notice a figure flying towards you, scooping you up and leaving with you to his castle.
When you finally woke up, you felt your wings be in better shape. You gave them a stretch holding them in your hands as you inspected them. They were red on the top and white underneath with gray swirls as a touch.
You were startled when you saw a blond male in a white suit and hat come to you. He gave you some soup with a wry smile.
You accepted his kind help feeling indebted to him for being the only generous person that you ever crossed paths with while being here in hell for a good while.
He introduced himself as the ruler of hell, Lucifer himself. This fact obviously shocked you. Lucifer was this short, dorky, kind man? It was quite hard to believe from all the scriptures you've read while you were alive.
He explains his backstory which you found quite pitiful and explained how he was surprised to find your existence here in hell when you should've been in heaven.
He promises to make things right with you, so he takes it upon himself to call his daughter, Charlie to help you. While he tries to deal with it.
When you get to the hotel, you were enamoured by the passion that Charlie had for her cause and felt like you needed to help her.
So, you worked with them for a month getting accustomed to life here. It was actually quite delightful being genuine friends with them. They often talked to you when they felt lost or frustrated or lost touch of themselves and their emotions. You didn't mind it, it was your life's work after all.
After getting closer and closer to everyone, Lucifer comes back and tells you that Heaven doesn't acknowledge the mistake that they made and that you were to stay here for the rest of eternity.
This deeply saddened you but you touched Lucifer's shoulder and smiled.
"Thank you for trying, Lucifer. It's fine! I've actually made friends here. And since you're here, why not join us? We're celebrating Angie's birthday!"
He smiled comforted as you walked with him to the banquet table served with various dishes.
The night ends happily. Despite being unhappy and failing to connect with other people to create deeper relationships on Earth. You felt more at peace here with these sinners than you've ever felt before.
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thatonegenshinsimp · 1 year
Text
Sleepy Cuddles
Just some headcanons of mine that I have for whenever you want to sleep on them
Characters- Alhaitham, Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Xiao, Childe
Warning- Slight spoilers for Diluc and Kaeya’s backstories
Notes: I didn’t expect my Capitano oneshot to get so much love! Thank you all!
Part 2
Masterlist
Alhaitham
It takes him a little while to warm up to it, but he loves cuddling with you when he’s about to fall asleep.
He’ll be reading a book while you lay down on his chest, an arm draped over your back as you sleep.
He occasionally looks down to make sure that you’re sleeping peacefully.
Yes, he will throw the book at Kaveh if he comes into the room to say anything. No, it doesn’t matter what it is that Kaveh wants to say, he’s still getting a book thrown at him.
After a while of reading, Alhaitham also gets tired, and decides to call it a night.
He always whispers words of comfort in your ear as you drift off, and plays with your hair once you’ve fallen asleep.
Another habit of his is that he’ll run his fingers through your hair as you sleep, which soothes him almost as much as it does you. It helps with the stress he feels after a long day of work.
Diluc
You have to drag him to bed the first time you want to do this with him.
However, once he finds out how warm and fuzzy he feels inside every time he holds you like this, he’s willing to go to bed with you the moment you ask.
He loves physical touch, it’s comforting to him when he can make sure that you’re there and that you’re really, truly in his arms.
If you run your fingers through his hair while you lay on top of him, he’ll absolutely melt.
It generally takes him longer to fall asleep since he’s so alert all the time, but it’s also because he wants to make sure you’re alseep before he is.
His bird has a perch by the window in case it ever needs to leave the Winery. The window stays slightly cracked open unless it’s Winter and it’s freezing outside.
Then again, the cold is all the more reason to snuggle up to him, isn’t it?
Kaeya
He immediately falls in love with the idea of cuddling with you when you fall asleep, and instantly starts doing so.
Kaeya always holds at least one of your hands, but will also have the unoccupied arm around your waist.
He’s actually very warm for someone so lithe. You’d expect him to be freezing most nights, but it’s usually quite the opposite.
However, he has mean bedhead, and he also moves around a lot in his sleep.
He likes to cuddle after a long work day when he’s absolutely floored because of how much he had to do.
Kaeya also likes to trace little shapes in your back and see if you can guess what they are.
He’s just a romantic like that.
Zhongli
He’s a very good cuddle buddy. He’s very warm, and his voice is what puts you to sleep most of the time.
That’s not to say that he doesn’t treasure the quieter moments between the two of you.
Nine times out of ten, you fall asleep in his lap while he’s reading a book.
The other times are when he’s telling you a story or talking about his day while the two of you lay in bed together.
His love language is physical touch and I will die on this hill.
If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll make you some tea or read you the book he’s reading.
He’ll also run his fingers through your hair as he’s speaking to try and soothe you further to sleep.
It almost always works.
Xiao
He’s scared to have you sleep on him at first.
Xiao doesn’t want to harm you in any way with his Karmic Debt, but eventually, after you persist for weeks, he obliges, and lets you lay down against him.
He warms up to the idea of you sleeping on him very quickly, and soon enough, he starts asking you to join him when he sleeps.
He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair. If you do it long enough, he’ll fall asleep before you.
Sometimes, whenever his Karmic Debt gets to be a little too much, he’ll lay down on you and hold onto you until it passes and he starts to feel better.
Xiao also likes to massage your back to try and soothe you if you let him, acts of service is his love language.
He cherishes every moment he’s with you, and moments like these are the ones he holds closest to his heart.
Childe
Good luck getting him to stay still. He needs to be doing stuff every waking moment he has.
However, if you ask really nicely, he’ll join you in bed and hold you.
He likes to talk, so get ready to talk even if you’re only half awake.
All jokes aside, he loves physical touch. That and acts of service are his love languages.
Childe is grateful for the times that you take care of him after a particularly rough day of work and fighting, and it shows in the way he holds you so close to him when the two of you rest together.
He likes to rest with you directly on top of him or with your head on his chest, while he has his arms wrapped around you to keep you close.
After all, he cherishes you like family, and the way he holds you reflects that perfectly.
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divine-donna · 11 months
Text
a fair trade
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pairing: miguel o’hara x gender neutral! reader
word count: 1,010 words
ao3 link: 🕷️🕷️🕷️
summary: your help is needed to defeat a multiversal entity, one that you’ve defeated before. but what can miguel offer in return for your service?
notes: kind of mishmashing the movies and comics together. do not fret if you haven’t read any of them! it’s mostly just referenced (much like how it was referenced in the last post). the fic on ao3 is also locked to registered ao3 users only. it’s a precaution i’m taking in response to ai using ao3 fics to be trained.
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“(Y/N), we need your help.”
“Miguel, I’m in the middle of eating lunch. Because, you know, I didn’t have breakfast.”
“That’s on you.”
“Some of us don’t like breakfast.”
“Okay that’s not the point! The point is that we need your help!”
You were just sitting at your table, peacefully. After a mission earlier today, you thought you enjoyed a nice break. All you’ve been doing is going on missions across the multiverse, at the expense of your personal life back home. Your friends missed you and were constantly wondering why you would dip all of a sudden. After all, it wasn’t like you to just...cancel last minute. You loved your friends. You always made sure to be there. What you didn’t expect when accepting Miguel’s invitation was to be worked constantly. There was always a multiversal threat at stake, even for something small.
You were literally the local expert on the multiverse. Small things wouldn’t cause catastrophe. But Miguel believed they would. He believed in a domino effect. You believed that it was necessary to stay vigilant but not every small thing required attention. Sometimes the multiverse acted weird. It was a multiverse. It acted on its own accords.
“Miguel, is it actually something to worry about? Or is it something like the Vulture ended up in the wrong reality which can be cleaned up without my help?” You took a sip of your drink.
“It’s someone by the name of Verna. And she’s brought with her an army.”
“Verna? Never heard of her.” You shake your head.
“Really? She claims she’s fought you before.”
“If I saw a picture, then maybe I would recognize her.”
Miguel doesn’t hesitate. “Lyla.”
Part of you wondered what it would be like if your name was always on the tip of his tongue, ready to speak on a moment’s notice. You always wanted someone who could say your name with such ease, who thought of you constantly.
“Already on it.” Lyla pulls up a video. “This is live footage of the whole thing. We’re lucky she hasn’t spread her destruction further.”
As you were taking a sip of your drink, you choked on the liquid. Thankfully, you did not die. “We need you alive (Y/N).” Miguel says.
“I thought I banished her to the ends of the Multiverse!” You exclaimed.
“So you have fought her?” Lyla questions. “Was this the multiversal being you battled before?”
“She’s the reason I have no magic!” You crush the metal cup in your hand. “It took everything for me to banish her! And she just comes...comes back like nothing happened?” You squint a little. “She also looks a lot different than I remember. You said her name was Verna?” Lyla and Miguel look at each other before nodding. “She went by a different name. Called herself the Matriarch of...something. I don’t remember.”
“All the more reason for you to finish up and join us.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I lost my appetite.” You picked up the dishes and cleaned out the plates, dropping them off with the conveyor belt of dirty dishes. “You owe me Miguel.”
“Owe you what?”
“A break. Like a real break. My body needs to properly recuperate, you know.”
He inputs the numbers and opens the portal. “I can do that. You’ve done good work so far.”
“Exactly. Not getting paid here.”
“None of us get paid.”
“It was a joke. You know, Peter was right. You’re like the only one of us that isn’t funny.”
“That’s hilarious.” His voice did not change in tone and his facial expressions did not give away that he was humored.
“Lighten up a little. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re extra stoic because you want to kiss me.”
“I do not want to kiss you.”
“Everyone wants to kiss me.”
He looks at you, eyebrow slightly raised. “You should pay me in kisses actually. Think that’d be a fair deal. I help you guys stop Verna, again, and I get a kiss. It’d be the perfect reward.”
You feel his gaze on you. “It’s a joke, I promise. You don’t have to actually.” Even if you did want to kiss him.
He takes a step towards you, much to your surprise. His hand reaches up, fingers curled slightly, and his knuckles graze the skin of your cheeks. It’s reassuring in a way and his touch is gentle. It reminds you of when you first joined, how his fingers gently wiped away the crumbs at your face. His hand uncurls and cups your face. “How badly do you want a kiss?” He asks.
His voice made your legs shake. “If I answered that I think you’d make fun of me.”
“I mean...it’s a simple yes or no question.”
“Yes?”
You weren’t expecting his lips to crash against yours. The sheer force almost causes you to fall over and your hands fumble to grip onto his body. You could feel his muscles flex beneath his suit. You kiss him back, but most certainly not with the same amount of force he does. Miguel even goes as far to nip your bottom lip, causing a small gasp to emerge from your throat. It was a little embarrassing and your cheeks grew warm. He pulls away, satisfied and with that cocky smirk on his face.
“Make it back alive and I’ll give you another.” He puts his mask on. “Maybe even more.”
“You...have a lot of confidence that I will.” You were out of breath. Very much out of breath.
“You’ve beaten the odds before. It’s part of who we are.”
Miguel walks through the portal and you clench your hands for a few seconds. You were nervous. It wasn’t just the kiss that made you nervous (though your heart certainly was pumping for that reason primarily). Lyla looked at you with a smile. “You better come back. Or else I’ll lose the primary thing I make fun of him for.”
“I’ll try Lyla. For you.”
“Sure, sure. Now get going before people die.”
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cowboydisaster · 11 months
Note
Hey could you write a little fic about Arthur hearing fem reader crying and comforting her? Really pile up the fluff if you decide to write please 🩷🩷 love your stuff so much xxx
A Shoulder to Cry on
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pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader
word count: 1000
a/n: Thank you for this sweet prompt, nonny! I was looking to write some fluff and this was perfect.
beta read by @margowritesthings
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You feel foolish for even crying, but you can't bring yourself to stop the glistening tears from streaming down your face. You’re petrified, miles away from your former camp, stuck up in the Grizzlies. The Pinkertons are on your tail like a cat on a mouse, and you know it’s only a matter of time before they inevitably catch you. Your time is running out. You’ve had a good run with the van der Linde gang, but it’s time is nigh on done. It's a daunting realization, especially after losing so many folks back in Blackwater. 
Because of your position in the gang, you’ve been given your own bedroom in the same cabin as Arthur, Dutch and Hosea. It's a cold room, but better than what most of the gang have. The wind whistles outside as thick snowflakes land on the roof, causing ice cold water to drip repetitively from the ceiling above. The wind and the leak intertwine with your cries, forming a sad, sad song. 
You sit on the bed with your knees hugged to your chest, sobbing into them with no sign of stopping. You try to keep quiet as your breathing comes in shudders, and your shoulders shake violently. There is an ache in your ribs from the sobs erupting from your chest, but it pales in comparison to the ache in your heart. You hiccup, catching your breath, and unknowingly alerting Arthur who is walking by to catch some shut eye. 
With his eyebrows pulled together in worry, he gently nudges your door open. You don’t even look up, and he stands in the doorway for a moment, glancing over your curled up, crumbling form. Of course, he knows what's wrong, and his heart shatters at the sight of you looking so broken. His heart– it’s been longing for your own for so long, and seeing you like this breaks him. 
“Oh, darlin…” He murmurs, stepping forward in only a few strides. You hear his boots clicking against the floor before the bed dips under his weight, and then his big, warm arms are around you. 
“I'm so sorry.” He whispers.
There’s something about his arms around you. They are sturdy and unmoving, and yet piece by piece, they begin to build your broken heart back together. There’s so much safety and comfort in his arms, you’re sure that he could protect you even from the storms raging in the Grizzlies with his hugs. You wrap your arms under his, hands on his back as you sniffle and cry into his shirt. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Arthur asks quietly, swaying you lightly in his arms as he shields you from your pain and the cold. Arthur doesn’t push you. He knows exactly how you feel, and opening up about these things is far from easy in his own experience. The gang– it’s coming to an end, and you both know it. Now you just have to find a way to exit peacefully, hopefully taking those that you love with you. 
"Shh, shh. You're okay." He coos, tucking your head under his chin.
Arthur is radiating with warmth, and you feel the frostbite leaving your nose as you nuzzle into his chest. His thumb reaches up to wipe away a fresh tear as he frowns lightly at the sight of you so upset. Your skin is soft against Arthur’s calloused hand, and your eyes slip closed as you savor the feeling of his touch.
“I’m scared, Arthur.” You admit, lip trembling as silent tears slide down your frozen cheeks. 
“I know you are, I know, but I will get you out of this mess. I promise you.” Arthur swears, resting back against the headboard as his mind runs rampant. He can’t let you die for this gang, and he’ll get you out safely if it's the last thing he does. 
“You just rest now, alright? You don’t gotta worry no more. I gotcha now.” Arthur murmurs, laying down with you nuzzled into his side. You cuddle against him as tightly as you can manage, placing your head on his chest as you nod your head. For the first time since Blackwater, the trails of tears from your reddened eyes cease.
Arthur’s hand runs soothingly up and down your back as he makes sure you’re comfortable and taking deep breaths. He wishes he could take this pain away from you, but he knows he can't. All he can do is hold you. 
Your eyes slip shut as you nuzzle against his blue wool coat, your cries dying down to soft sniffles. 
"Feelin' any better?" Arthur asks, watching as your breathing settles back to normal. Your cheeks are red from the cold, and your lashes stick together from sticky tears. Arthur pulls the blankets up over the two of you, not wanting you to catch a cold. 
"I am now that you’re here." You whisper, feeling a heavy tiredness fall over you. Arthur is so comfortable, and you feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms. Arthur can tell you're drifting off, and he wraps his arms around you tighter for it. 
"It's okay, get some sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up." Arthur murmurs. Seeking more of his comfort, and taking another step towards telling him how you feel, you unwrap one of his arms from your body. Arthur's eyebrows pull together, and at first he's worried that he's crossed a line until you intertwine your fingers with his own and hold your joined hands against his chest. 
Arthur smiles down at your hands, watching your face relax as you finally drift to sleep. He'll hold you the rest of the night, making sure you're okay. 
"I'll get you outta this mess." He reiterates, "If it's the last thing I do, I won't let you die for these fools." 
He hopes that you'll go with him, run away to some place far. Arthur's never been one to daydream of pleasantries, but you make him want a home, a family. He'd leave the gang for you, he'd buy a home and work an honest job just so he could come home to you. He'd make you proud. 
But for now, all he can do is hold you, comfort you from the storm outside alongside the one raging in your mind. Now the only sounds in the room are the leaking roof and your light snores as you take comfort in the first safety you've felt in days. Arthur will always be that comfort for you. 
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taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony
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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year
Note
Can you write something about yaoshi?thou their design is very pretty (⁠●⁠’⁠3⁠)⁠♡⁠(⁠ε⁠`⁠●⁠)
Let's say we're their fav human/god
I hope this makes sense
We don’t know much about the Aeons yet, so don’t expect this to be an accurate representation of what Yaoshi acts like. I’ll give ya two versions (human and aeon reader).
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(YANDERE?) YAOSHI x READER (ft. Other Aeons)
warnings: ddne, mind break, power imbalance, massive age gap & infantilization(for the human section), yandere themes in general, somnophillia.
note: from what i read in yaoshi’s lore what i wrote feels like something the canon character would do hence the question mark
status: unedited
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STORY ONE : TO LIVE IN ABUNDANCE | Doctor ! Reader
I.
Yaoshi could not fathom why one would not wish for eternal life. Life was the most beautiful thing in existence. Wondrous, with a diversity one could not begin to imagine. Yet, there exists people who desire for existence to come to a halt, many who wish for their teachings and gifts to end.
You were one of those people.
Despite your occupation as a doctor, you believed that every patient had a right to choose their destiny. Whether it be to continue fighting for their lives or to die peacefully in their death beds, who were you to decide what happens to them? You were only the nurturer and provider. Even the best doctor in their field has to let go of a patient when it came down to it. For life is only beautiful, meaningful when it has to diminish one day.
And in spite of your beliefs, Yaoshi decided to bless you to join him in his path.
Your world was shaken.
Why were you of all people chosen by this Aeon?
Sure, you were fully dedicated to career. But if anything, your views were more aligned to the Archer Lord of Fate. You have had many Mara strucken, the victims of Yaoshi’s ‘gifts’, pass away before your very eyes. Beasts who have long lost their minds and ability to choose what future they’ll follow. If you had a choice, without a heartbeat
Several millenia pass with you never aging. Generals that ruled come and go.
And now, because of their so-called kindness, you were banished from Xianzhou. Your home. Thrusted into the embrace of space and void,
and none other than the Aeon that doomed you.
“Child. You have come home at last.”
II.
If you were born into a different culture, perhaps a planet that worshipped the Aeon before you, maybe then you would be elated with your current happenstance.
But this was not the case unfortunately.
You spend around a decade filled with hatred and anger. Hurling the most venomous words and even attempting to harm their being. Of course, none of your actions do anything to help your situation.
A century was spent trying to convince them to let you go, to rescind their blessing and leave you to live your life as a mortal.
They refused, stating that it would saddened them to lose you.
It gets close to another century with how long you spent in tears. For the loss of your loved ones that had left you to go to the afterlife. For the situation you were forced into. As you cried and cried, all Yaoshi could do was embrace you using their many arms. It was a peculiar feeling at first but unfortunately became comforting soon enough.
And after all that you finally gave in.
Yaoshi did not seem surprised at all. In fact what awaited your complete acceptance was a gentle smile. One akin to a parent seeing their child come back home after running away in a fit.
“We can finally begin the preparations.”
“For what?” Your voice, hoarse and abused by your depressed barely came out.
“For our wedding.”
iii.
You were used to their multi-armed touches, their inhuman way of showing affection towards you. But nothing could prepare you for the consummation.
You don’t remember anything. Throughout the whole process you were extremely disassociated to the point of being catatonic.
This, this was your life now. Stuck to a god as a human who has far outlived their expiration date. Slowly yet surely your mind corroded.
And even as your body was littered with the golden allure of ginkgo leaves, your freedom never came.
Yaoshi did end up releasing you from their grasp to roam the cosmos freely. People from all over the universe called you the Golden Wanderer, or the Sanctus Medicus Saint.
But what was the point?
Even with your endless fame and immortality. You were a dead man walking.
Waiting, hoping, that one day someone would grant you mercy a god of life and everything beautiful in it could not.
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STORY TWO : TO DIE IN THE LIGHT | AEON OF DREAMS - IMAGINARY ELEMENT ! READER
i.
In the time humanity and civilizations began to rise. You were created within the womb of the universe representing a concept. Dreams. Though you most presided over preferable ones, you were known to give unending nightmares to those that slighted you and your domain.
In the grand scheme of Aeons, you were neutral. Never straying from the unbiased perspective of a god. Those that worshipped and favored you get rewarded, those that dirtied your name were punished.
For that you were often looked down upon by your fellow gods, seen as indecisive with your head literally and figuratively stuck in the clouds.
Yaoshi used to be one of them. They had a difficult time understanding how one could live without ever peeling their eyes to the grandiose aesthetics of the world.
They soon began to fall in love with your fair — beautiful and impartial — self.
And if those mara-struck beings were anything to go off of . . .
Their infatuation spelt your doom.
ii.
There you were. Your form shone brilliantly under the light of the moons and stars that seemed to dangle above you.
Even a god snored, and snored you did. But to Yaoshi this hoarse sound was music. No, even more than that.
It was a reminder that throughout the eons, you two are alive. Together. Breathing.
Yaoshi visited your slumbering body frequently to the point that it became a risk. That Lan would sometimes stand guard over you in case they would come, or have the Xianzhou oversee your vicinity. Not many mortals can hold up against the Aeon however, and if it meant having to go against their path in order to see you — the choice was obvious.
Their stays mostly consisted of performing lullabies and poetry of how both your and their followers adored your seemingly romantic partnership, to your blissfully unaware body.
At least that’s what they thought.
iii.
Contrary to popular belief, your most devoted of followers do not eternally sleep. Nor do the majority spend a lot of their sleeping. In order to spread your name, a lot chose to stay awake. Because if there was anything your true followers loved more than a good nap it was you.
As such, not known to many people or gods, you had a vast network of knowledge. A lot of what people learn and experience appear in dreams, and once the more fantastical ones were taken off the list, you were left with a near infinite amount of information.
Humans have also mastered a way of communion with you.
Case in point, you had long known about Yaoshi’s visits. You were the one that asked Lan to aid you. Breaking your self imposed rule of impartiality.
But all is for naught.
Misinformation had spread far too wide and the delusions Yaoshi infected the world with overpowered your truth.
Their acquisition of you was as tranquil and hurdle free as it could be.
While you were caged by Yaoshi, another Aeon swore to bring you back.
Ending life and therefore your deeply unconscious state. A state which they saw as involuntary. A cage infinitely worse than the Aeon of Harmony kept you in.
And the first Stellaron was born.
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a/n: i imagine human reader, especially post yaoshi adoption, to be like a lifesteal-tank sort of abundance character. only ever healing(mostly themself) if they attack/hurt the enemy, which would go against what yaoshi wants. i might draw a design for them actually. the type that if you build well, won’t ever die. but any battle with them would take a really long time since their damage is pp in comparison to other characters at the very least.
[link to the design/drawing here if i ever finish it]
[here’s a link to another aeon related fic]
i wanted to include both versions here before i uploaded this even if the first one is so long cause i just know im never gonna write a part two if ever lol. and yes, the aeon in the last bit is nanook.
want more hsr fics/have an idea for one? send me an ask or submission ❤️
©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
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nateconnolly · 5 months
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Two sisters lived in a fragrant house. The older sister Ahana worried that a drought might come, but the younger sister Leela was happy to spend all day in the house. 
“Stop looking for something to complain about!” Leela chided Ahana. “The rain will provide for us!” 
But Ahana began to dig a well. It was bitter work. Each morning, Ahana woke before the sunrise, and Leela slept peacefully until noon. 
After the first month, Ahana cried, “You lie here all morning like a lazy dog! Come dig the well with me!” And so Leela and Ahana both woke before the next sunrise. 
But the work was very bitter. 
“The rain will provide,” Leela said after digging for six hours.
“Then go home,” Ahana replied, so Leela returned to the fragrant house. She boiled rice and chicken; she mixed it with salt, turmeric, and parsley. Ahana returned after dark and saw a bowl of food waiting for her. Leela was already asleep: she had gone to bed before the sunset. 
Ahana took a blanket and draped it over her sleeping sister. 
After the second month, Ahana thought to herself, “Why should I continue to dig the well alone?” So she said to her sister, “Come dig the well with me tomorrow.” 
The next day, Ahana woke before sunrise, and Leela woke when the sky turned blue. Leela joined her sister, but the work was very bitter. 
“The rain will provide,” Leela said after digging for an hour, so she returned to the fragrant house. 
Ahana returned after dark. She found a bowl of rice waiting for her, but it had been left out since noon. The food was very cold. 
After the third month, Ahana said, “Come dig the well with me tomorrow,” but Leela stayed home.
After the fourth month, Ahana said, “Come dig the well with me,” but Leela did not look at her. So Leela went to bed long before the sun had set, and Ahana dug long after dark.
While Ahana was gone, Leela grew very hungry, so she ate both portions of the food. 
After the fifth month, Ahana completed the well. She went home and slept until sunset. 
After the sixth month, the rain stopped. Leela said, “Let me drink from your well, or I will surely die,” but Ahana said, “Why should I let you drink from a well that you did not dig? And what good is your rice now that you cannot boil it?” 
After the seventh month, Leela died, and Ahana inherited her rice. Ahana grew very rich. She sold rice and charged neighbors to drink from her well. Rice was so scarce that people would sell their houses just for a single bag. Ahana bought herself golden dishes rimmed with jewels; gems and diamonds from every continent; fine dresses of every color; cool, refreshing lakes, and wide open fields.
But her house was no longer fragrant. She realized Leela must have been burning incense to keep the house smelling nice. Ahana only noticed now that her sister was gone.
The waters of the well were still deep even when Ahana’s hair turned grey, and her joints creaked as she moved. Her memory was like a small cloud in a great storm: tossed about, torn up, and pushed away by the winds of her age. She lost things that she needed. She saw things that weren’t there. 
Ahana walked to the well in confusion. She saw a drowning woman in the well, and she thought to herself in terror, “My sister cannot swim!” 
Ahana jumped into the well to save her sister, but she could not find Leela.
There was only the waters of the deep.
And so, Ahana drowned trying to save her own reflection. 
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Two sisters were married to the same merchant. 
They had grown up in another house beside another field. The older sister was Asha and the younger sister was Labuki. The drought had passed and there was plenty in the land. 
When they were children, Labuki asked, “Where has your well gone?”
But Asha dismissed it, thinking to herself, My sister is a infant. She does not know that what she says is nonsense. She doesn’t understand that I do not have a well. Their mother married both girls to a merchant to secure contracts. Their family would make a fortune selling rice through his trade caravans. 
Asha was his first wife, but he loved her younger sister more. He lavished Labuki with gifts and servants, jewels and perfumes, while Asha lived in a separate house on his property. Nevertheless, Asha was an ambitious woman.
“Surely, if I give my husband a son, he will look on me with favor,” Asha said to herself. But when Asha laid with him she produced a daughter, and she cursed her child for being a girl. Even as she fed the baby, she whispered, “I don’t want you, I don’t want you.” 
Labuki laid with the merchant and produced a son.
Asha laid with the merchant again and produced another daughter.
Labuki laid with the merchant again and produced another son. 
Asha laid with the merchant again and produced another daughter.
Labuki laid with the merchant again and died in childbirth. 
“You are my wife now,” said the merchant. “I give you power over your sister’s sons.”
Asha looked at the sleeping boys, who could not yet understand that their mother was dead. She could send them off into the woods alone. Her daughters would be the sole inheritor of the merchant’s wealth, and Asha would be the sole mother of his children.
“They are my sister’s babies,” said Asha. “They will live here with us.”
Her nephews grew up calling her ‘Mother,’ and she never corrected them. It felt like a lie. Her daughters grew up calling her ‘Mother,’ and that felt like a lie, too.
You can read the rest of this story for free on my AO3 for original fiction.
Here's the Reviews:
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flowerandblood · 7 months
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Stay and love, leave and die
Halloween Request Oneshots Series
[ Aemond • Targaryen x Strong! • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, noncon, virginity loss, smut, angst, choking, violence, threats, kidnapping, obsession ]
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[ description: After the death of her grandfather, the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Harwin Strong travels to Storm's End to remind Borros Baratheon of his fathers oath to her mother he had made years ago. There she meets her uncle, whom she has not seen since a certain terrible event that took place between him and her brother. Her uncle decides to take his payment for what happened to him. Aggressive, obsessive, very dark! Aemond.]
This oneshot is inspired by anon request and is created with Halloween in mind, so unlike what I usually write, these fisc will be very dark and uncomfortable. Keep this in mind before you start reading.
Today marks one year since Ewan Mitchell played the role of Aemond Targaryen. I want to celebrate with this messed up Halloween oneshot! Love you my Aemond girlies 🎃🎃🎃
Alternative Universe Series: The Fall from the Heavens
*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*
My others works: Masterlist
____
She didn't remember much about the night her uncle lost his eye; at the time she was too young to understand what had really happened. When she came down into the great hall in only her nightgown and saw the maester bending over her uncle she squealed loudly, covering her mouth with her hand, terrified and distraught, bursting into tears.
She and Aemond were betrothed through the King's decision.
Her grandfather believed that a union between them would ensure that the kingdom would not fall apart after his death.
Her uncle did not speak to her much before their betrothal because she was a girl and her her feminine concerns did not arouse his interest. However, sometimes when she met him in the library, he would read aloud to her and she would listen to him with interest.
They would then exchange thoughts about their lineage, and even though it was purely childish, naive musings, they both felt like adults then.
She was really fond of him.
He was calm, polite and didn't mock her like Jace and Aegon, who said that when she frowned her eyebrows and pressed her lips together she looked like a hamster.
It turned out that their grandfather's decision, instead of confusing and intimidating them, brought them closer together. Her uncle was a man who understood perfectly what duty was and considered it his task and responsibility to prove himself as a husband according to his father's will.
He began to introduce her to his world full of weapons and trainings filled with effort, his beloved books on philosophy and history.
She knew that it gave him great satisfaction when she borrowed thick volumes from his private collection, which his mother had presented to him, pleased that she was able to discuss with him more and more boldly and confidently on subjects that interested him.
He embarrassed her when one day he asked her hesitantly if she could spend the night by his side. From what she understood he did not sleep well, although he did not want to say for whatever reason. He found that her presence reassured him, and since she was to be his wife, her place was with him.
She couldn't hide the heat and joy that spread through her heart at the thought that he craved to feel her by his side.
From then on, she would sneak out to his chamber at night, slipping under his bedding, falling asleep beside him pressing her forehead against his, holding his hand in hers. He never tried to touch her in an indecent way, never ordered her to expose her body, instead allowing her to place innocent, warm, childlike kisses on his lips whenever she desired.
If it hadn't been for the darkness around them she would have noticed that his cheeks were rosy with shame and contentment, that he was smiling lazily as he lay there with his eyes closed.
From then on, he slept peacefully.
Then, however, her younger brother deprived him of one eye when he dared to tame Vhagar, and her mother, despite promises that she would be able to visit him, allowed it only after a few days, hiding behind the fact that her half-brother should rest. However, when she appeared at the door of his chamber full of hope, Criston Cole sent her away and she never saw him again.
She sent him letters for eight years, one every two months, but he never wrote her back.
When king Viserys died her mother decided that she would fly to Storm's End to remind Lord Baratheon of his fathers oath, while Jace was to fly to Winterfell and Luke to the Eyrie.
All things considered, however, she did not foresee one thing.
Vhagar.
When she saw her in the middle of the storm, raising her head towards her like a great moving mountain, she felt fear.
She had not seen him since that day.
She did not fly to King's Landing when Luke fought for his rights to Driftmark because her mother and the Queen thought it would only make things worse, and her uncle did not want to see her.
For a moment she hesitated in spirit, standing in the rain, whether to turn back, terrified at the thought that he was there. She recognised, however, that her mother had entrusted her with this mission believing that she would fulfil the task and she had to fight for her rights.
Therefore, she gathered her courage and approached the guards, informing them of who she was. They led her into a large circular throne room, lit up once in a while by an intense flash of lightning and the torches all around her.
That's when she saw him.
He stood in a leather cloak with sword and dagger at his side, speaking to one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, but when he heard the guards announce who had arrived he looked towards her, turning on his heel, holding his hands entwined behind his back.
His lips twitched in a mocking, menacing grin that sent shivers through her, his pupil narrowed like those of a cat that had just seen a mouse.
"My Lady Strong." He said teasingly, coldly, lightly, and she swallowed loudly, recognising that she had not come all this way to tease.
She was shivering with cold and fear and wanted to convey what she had to say as quickly as possible.
"Queen Rhaenyra wishes to remind you of the oath your father, Lord Baratheon, made to her years ago." She said softly and clearly, looking up at the distressed lord sitting before her on the stone throne.
"Prince Aemond has offered to take one of my daughters as his wife. Which of my daughters will one of your brothers marry to win my favour?" He asked her in a dry, raised voice, frustrated by her presence and what she was demanding of him.
She swallowed loudly, looking at her uncle in shock, seeing him watching her with satisfaction, his chin raised in a gesture of victory, the corner of his mouth still twitching in a smile.
He was proud of himself.
"Forgive me, my Lord, both my brothers who are of the proper age for marriage are already betrothed." She muttered, and Lord Baratheon laughed aloud, spreading his arms to his sides.
"So you come with empty hands. Go home, pup. Tell your mother she won't summon me when she wishes like some dog." He growled.
She swallowed the insult with difficulty, nodding, feeling her head humming, her heart pounding like mad, her uncle's gaze piercing her to the core.
"I will pass on your words to the Queen, my Lord." She said, forcing herself to be calm and bowed, turning away tense and walking out quickly, wanting to be back in Dragonstone as soon as possible.
She stepped out into the courtyard into the intense rain pouring down from the sky, loud thunder all around her, her whole body trembling from fear.
"Wait, my Lady Strong." She heard a cold, mocking voice behind her and squealed softly as she felt someone's strong, large hand clench painfully tight on her arm.
"Won't you greet your uncle? Don't you want to see at last my memento after meeting your brother?" He hissed, pulling his eye patch from his face with his free hand in one sharp, firm, agressive motion.
She drew in a loud breath when she saw polished sapphire shining ominously in his eye socket.
She stared at the sight simultaneously horrified and enthralled, there was something in his face, in his gaze, in the way he clenched his jaw, that she was unable to look away from him.
"− please −" She mumbled, trying to pull herself out of his arms, but he embraced her, pressing her close. She put her hands on his rain-wet leather coat and tried to push him away, but he only chuckled lowly at her helpless efforts, locking her in his grasp.
"− I see you've changed too − you even look like a woman now − maybe I should take you away and enjoy you after so many years of separation − didn't you miss me? −" He asked in a humiliating, sweet, mocking voice, leaning over her like a child so as to look into her frightened eyes, in which tears of terror had gathered.
She was afraid of the way he looked at her.
"− please, uncle, I just want to go home −" She whispered pleadingly and took his cold face in her hands, wanting to alleviate the situation somehow, to give it some affectionate gesture that would help him calm down.
Something changed in his gaze, he shuddered and licked his lower lip, looking at her with his head tilted, his grip not easing one bit, their hair, faces and clothes wet from the intense rain.
"− no −" He hissed and grabbed her in half, throwing her over his shoulder, she began to squeal and scream, slapping his back with her hands, her dragoness writhed ominously at the sight, ready to breathe fire.
He summoned Vhagar, who rose suddenly on her paws, the ground shook beneath her and her little dragoness scowled in fear, as terrified as she was.
"− please, don't hurt her! −" She cried to him and stopped struggling, knowing that Vhagar's teeth clamped down on her dragoness would tear her apart. "− please, I'll fly with you, I will do anything −"
"− hm −" He murmured under his breath, placing her on the ground right next to the ropes hanging from his saddle. He looked at her with an indifferent, cool gaze, his lips pressed into a thin line. "− up −"
She cried all the way, snuggling into the front of his saddle, feeling his body clinging to hers behind her, his face pressed against her neck.
"− I will make you my mistress − you will bear me bastards after I marry any of that fool's daughters − bastards are perfect for bearing other bastards, aren't they? −" He whispered in her ear, placing wet, sticky kisses on the skin of her neck, and she tried with difficulty to catch her breath, almost choking from her sobs.
She prayed for her mother to save her.
He dragged her by her arm, holding her painfully tight, towards his chamber, heedless of the surprised stares of the guards.
It was the middle of the night and he had commanded that no one was to disturb them.
He pushed her into his chambers and she fell to the stone floor, panting heavily, shaking all over, feeling like she was about to vomit from fear, tears and rain drops running down her cheeks. She could hear him breathing loudly with excitement and exertion, pulling off his coat, tossing it disorderly on the floor.
She was breathing hard, looking at him in horror, wondering what she was supposed to do, how she was supposed to fight him.
Suddenly, this one thought, this one attempt, seeing him begin to walk towards her with a menacing, final step that said it all came out of her mouth.
"I've written letters to you. For eight years, every two months. You never wrote back to any of them. Why?" She asked in a trembling, broken voice, feeling how tight her throat was with fear, how much her hands were quivering.
He stopped in mid-step, furrowing his brow, his face impassive, tense, cold.
"Liar." He hissed as he knelt over her, grabbing her by her neck, pressing her to the ground in a one, brutal motion, his free hand quickly found the dagger hidden under her cloak and tossed it aside with a loud clang of steel.
She figured that the more she resisted, the more pain he would cause her.
"I'm not lying. Ask your grandfather. I suspect he didn't even pass them on to you, did he?" She mumbled with difficulty, his fingers clenching on her neck so tightly that she had trouble breathing.
However, she noticed a kind of hesitation and uncertainty on his face, his nostrils quivering in a ragged breath.
"And what did you write in them, my Lady Strong?" He asked teasingly, his free hand sliding down to the tying of his breeches, his wide-eyed gaze directed at her, mad, implacable, cruel.
She licked her lips, feeling his fingers cold and wet from the rain clenching on her hot skin, tried not to think about the sound of the material slipping away, only what she had wanted to say to him for years.
"That I was too young to understand what happened then. That it wasn't until years later that I realised you had been deprived of more than an eye that night. That I can't sleep. That something in me died that day." She whispered with difficulty, tears of grief, fear and horror running down the sides of her face onto the stone floor he pressed her against.
She saw that he had stopped in mid-motion, breathing loudly, his lips pressed together, as if he was thinking hard about something.
"I will not give you back to your mother-whore. I will keep you as my payment for the harm she has done to me." He said coolly, furrowing his brow, looking at her as if he was explaining to her that it was the only reasonable thing to do.
Her heart pounded like crazy as she thought what she was doing was working.
That it wasn't rape per se that was his goal, but the appropriation of something precious that belonged to her mother, so that he could have a sense of atonement.
She nodded, trying to calm herself, wanting him to remain calm too.
"Very well." She whispered quietly, something in his face changed, a sort of surprise passed across his eye. He let out a loud sigh, as if he expected that only when he took her by force would she agree.
"For years I have suffered with the thought of that day. I will compensate you as best I can." She mumbled softly, a final, solitary tear running down her face.
She tried with all her might to think of that boy she loved so dearly and not the monstrous man who had just looked at her.
"Hm." He hummed again, letting her go, rising from his lap, his watchful gaze directed straight at her.
She grabbed her neck, drawing in air loudly, turning onto her stomach, quivering all over.
She heard the clang of steel and the sound of a loud filling. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, breathing hard, and noticed that he had poured himself some wine.
He moved slowly towards the chair opposite her and sat down with a loud creak of wood, arranging himself comfortably, crossing his legs.
"I await my compensation." He said lightly, as if amused, taking a loud sip from his cup, his healthy eye staring at her wide-eyed with a sharp, expectant gaze, his lips stretched in a lazy, dangerous grin.
She swallowed loudly, standing up slowly, feeling her legs refuse to obey her, thinking strenuously what she should do.
"No man would want me for a wife after this." She sobbed out with difficulty, looking at him horrified, and he chuckled under his breath, cocking his head to the side.
"If you please me enough, I will take you as my wife in the tradition of Old Valyria, and our children will be my official heirs." He said dryly, and she felt her heart begin to pound like mad, she shook her head as if she did not believe what he was saying.
"− your grandfather − your future wife − they would never −"
"− I don't give a shit about them − only my word counts in this matter − do you understand? −" He asked loudly, looking up at her from below, tapping his fingers on the armrest at his last word. She pressed her lips together, looking at him pleadingly.
"− we both know you won't marry me − you despise me − I −"
"I will be merciful and spare you from giving birth to my bastards. I will either marry you or kill you, depending on how much I like what you do now." He said softly, something like a gleam in his eye, content with this insightful thought, his cup reached his lips again as he took a greedy sip from it.
She clenched her hands into fists, knowing what he desired, knowing that if she didn't give it to him, he would take it anyway, violently and aggressively, and then just cut her throat.
She thought with despair that if she could spare herself even a little pain, she would.
He swallowed loudly, looking at her watchfully as she approached him with a slow, unhurried step, wordlessly sitting on his lap, her hair still wet from the rain, partly pinned back in a bun, partly lowered loosely down her back.
She raised her trembling hands to the buckles of her cloak, undoing them with a slow movement, his gaze fixed on her fingers. He lifted his gaze to her face, drinking quickly the remnant of wine he had in his goblet, looking greedily after a moment at her drenched gown, through which material he could see almost everything.
She felt something in his breeches pulse hard beneath her, and then again and again, becoming harder and harder.
"I don't know what to do, uncle." She whispered quietly, begging him in a way to end her humiliation, to just show her what he wanted and leave her alone.
He looked at her suddenly, humming again in his low, thoughtful, throaty tone, his hand slipping beneath the material of her underskirt, touching shamelessly her naked thigh, finally digging his fingertips into the soft skin of her hip, pressing her closer to him, forcing her to rub againt what was beneath her with slow back and forth movements.
She saw him part his lips, his other hand quickly set the cup down on the small table standing next to them and swiftly joined his first hand, also tightening on her hip. She felt the rocking movements of her hips tease something between her thighs, tickling her at the same time and making her shiver.
"Spread my breeches to the sides." He commanded in a hoarse, trembling voice looking at her expectantly, licking his lower lip in an involuntary, quick motion.
She did as he instructed and suddenly felt something hard and throbbing press against her naked body, she drew in the air loudly guessing what it was. She felt him take his manhood in his hand in a confident movement.
"Lift up and slide it inside you." He said coolly, but the tone of his voice betrayed some kind of excitement, his healthy eye open wide.
She swallowed loudly, resting her hands on his shoulders for balance, breathing loudly, trying not to think about how scared she was, how much she wanted to go home, his sapphire eye gleamed dangerously in the dark.
She settled against him and felt the fat head of his length push against her folds, sliding in just a little, stretching her slit painfully to all sides. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a quiet sigh of discomfort, a throaty groan escaping his lips.
"− fuck − keep going −" He exhaled, not moving however, his hand holding his manhood in such a position that it stood perpendicular to her body.
She bit her lips, gasping with effort as she tried to fit him deeper inside her, another loud, involuntary groan escaped his lips, he threw his head back, clenching his healthy eye, clasping his hand on her bare buttocks. He opened it suddenly and looked at her, breathing loudly through his mouth.
One brutal, sudden thrust of his hips startled her and tore something inside her, she cried out and convulsed in pain shaking all over, his large hands stroking her thighs reassuringly.
He knew he had just taken her maidenhood.
"− shhh − shhh −" He hushed her, rocking inside her with slow, steady rhythm of his hips, looking at her with misty eyes full of something she didn't understand, a single tear of horror and humiliation ran down her cheek.
She drew in a loud breath as he lifted his one hand to her face, his thumb rubbing the wet stain from her cheek, and then his fingers tightened on the nape of her neck, drawing her closer, snuggling her face into the hollow of his neck.
Stunned and helpless, she clenched her hands on the material of his leather tunic, seeking refuge in her tormentor, wishing only that he would not cause her any more pain.
"− hush − it's all right − look how easy it's sliding in now −" He whispered quietly into her ear, his length slipping softly all the way into her only to slide out almost completely, teasing something inside her. His movements began to become increasingly slippery, his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a quiet, sticky click.
"− just like that − just a little longer −" He cooed, stroking her wet hair, placing almost tender kisses on her temple, panting along with her with each of his movements, her body bouncing slightly with each of his thrusts.
She snuggled into him tighter, just wanting to hide, to escape, his neck smelling of smoke, sweat, rain. She closed her eyes, trying to relax, and he groaned loudly feeling her body stop resisting him, his lips roaming over her wet cheek, placing moist, sticky kisses on it.
"− I know − I know − 'm close −" He whispered with some kind of care from which a shudder went through her, the thought that when he did this she might soon expect his child.
She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought feeling the tears burning under her eyelids again, sobbing quietly, embracing him tightly, his thrusts getting faster and louder, slamming his swollen, fat cock into her again and again, both of them began to moan, his one hand clenched in her hair, the other squeezed her hip.
"− how could you leave me − I was waiting for you then − ah − all fucking night − but it doesn't matter − you're mine now − g-gods − fuck! −" He exhaled loudly, panting heavily along with her, his words making her feel her core throbbing around him, sucking him inside, some warm liquid spilling inside her and suddenly it was all over.
They sat cuddled together like that for long minutes, their breaths calming, not speaking or moving, just embracing each other, his face nestled into her hair, his nose pressed against her cheek.
"From now on everything will be as it should be, wife."
_____
Alternative Universe Series: The Fall from the Heavens
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Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
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rae-writes · 6 months
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familiars
Mammon, Satan, Asmo || 0.8k wc || crack post [to make up for all the angst recently] ft. menace mc (Tannie's is my favorite bc that's literally me)
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Mammon
The second born was on his way to Lucifer’s office again when he saw you plopped on the common room floor
You had tons of materials surrounding you : scissors, needles, thread, fabric, small stickers— even glitter glue! 
Mammon didn’t have the time to stop and ask why, he just chalked it up to his little human just doing their weird little human things
After he was dismissed from Lucifer’s office (and after a 3 fucking hour long lecture), he made his way back to the common room, but you were gone
In your place was a yellow sticky note that read “Hey Mammon! Don’t freak out, I just went outside for a bit <3” 
And that made him freak out even more
Because it was raining like all fuck out there
So he scrambles to the entrance hall and throws open the front door, ready to yell, when he just stops 
You’re crouched down on the steps with an umbrella over you while his crow familiars hop around your feet
They’re all decked out in tiny rain hats, rain coats, and some of his older ones even have small rain boots
Currently, you’re putting a glittery gold lookin set on Mammon’s youngest crow and the demon’s heart swells
The crows notice him fairly quickly and begin to jump around even more, making you look back and beam 
“Hi Mamoney! Alright little fella, you’re all good to go now! Go say hi to Mammon!” 
He could cry. Literally sob at how fucking cute this is
“Aw, guys! Look at ya!” He pets them over their hats, grinnin’ ear to ear, “Mc. You didn’t tell me you wanted to parent the kids with me.” 
You laughed, making him grin even more. “You mentioned them getting cold when they got rained on so I figured I’d help out! Don’t they just look so cute?!” 
Mammon’s eyes were practically heart shaped, “y-yeah…”
(he absolutely gets you and him a rain set so you can all go out in them like a big family) 
(and yes his brothers made fun of him for it and no he didn’t care— especially not when you slapped them with your wet rain hat)
Satan 
You and Satan were out on a simple walk. A relaxing, uneventful walk
That is until you get approached by a fucking unicorn
You don’t know what the hell to do or say- you just kinda stand there staring for a minute while Satan pets his uh…friend. He chuckles at your response, raising an eyebrow when you hold a single finger up
“Someone either slipped me some severe drugs or you’re just a stone cold traitor who did not tell me he was bffs with this gorgeous creature. Both of which I will take offense to.” 
“I deeply apologize for my transgressions, my love.” 
You glanced at the unicorn with a look of ‘can you fucking believe this guy’ before raising a hand, “May I?” 
You received a neigh, to which you leaned in closer and stroked up its nose, where you then received a delighted huff 
“I would die for you.” 
Satan snorted, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. His laughter only got louder when his familiar looked at him with the equivalent expression of ‘how dare you keep this human from me’ 
“Yes, yes, I should’ve introduced you two sooner. Are we done pouting now?” 
You and the unicorn looked at eachother. Then at Satan. Then back to each other. “No.”
He smiled, still amused, “then how about a ride through town? I’ll walk beside you.”
“Like the peasant you are. Alright- onward, Uni! Let’s go kick a guy in the gut.”
...perhaps Satan had been leaving you alone with Belphie for too long
Asmo 
For once (though not for long), the House of Lamentation was peacefully quiet
Most of them were doing their own thing in the common room, existing without a hitch beside each other— a perfect day, in Lucifer’s opinion 
“EEEEKKK!”
The sound was extremely high pitched and cracked, but it was written off as ‘just Mammon doing something stupid again’ 
Yeah…until he walked through the door asking what the hell that noise was. Then they all did a headcount- you were the only one not present 
Asmo turned into the world’s biggest track star in that moment and made his way to you first, finding you floating in mid air at the entrance hall
And on the floor was a sleek black scorpion just…sitting there
“Hon…don’t tell me you’re scared of my gorgeous little baby?!” 
You stared at him like he was fucking nuts— which you thought so in that moment. “I’m sorry, I was a bit too focused on the stINGER!” 
“He doesn’t sting anyone unless I tell him too, Hon, no worries!” 
…’no worries’ he says, as if the creepy thing wasn’t among the most dangerous animals to humans. And a human, you were 
In fairness, the scorpion was not so horrible looking. It’s tail faded into a hot pink like Azzy’s horns and it’s feet(?) we’re tipped with gold. And it had a faint sparkly coat. Of course. 
“Okay…I can deal with this…I guess he is..kind of..pretty..?” 
“Indeed he is! I shine him myself! You wanna hold him?” 
“No, that’s alrig— STOP BRINGING IT CLOSER!”
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Constellations // Wally Clark
IN WHICH: reader is a secret ghost at Split River High School attached to the roof where Wally stumbles onto for solitude. With the new arrival of Maddie Nears a year later a secret comes out.
Warnings: Swearing, talk of a undisclosed medical condition, divorce, angst, and fluff
Words: 2.4k
A/N: Of course it’s a ghost show that revives this blog of writing. Am I surprised? No. Is Julie? Definitely not.
Masterlist
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You’d have never anticipated the sound of Luke Bryan’s Country Girl being an okay soundtrack to watching the stars. But you’d also never expected discovering the afterlife so soon. Occasionally, you would hear a mixture of the living and the dead on the ground or through an open window, but you typically stayed on the roof.
It had been the hangout spot for the volleyball team when you were alive. The championship game had been the last time a living foot, other than maintenance, had stepped on this roof.
Most of the team had graduated, and the broken doors that couldn’t hold up against the wind were changed. So now it was only you. Reliving the excitement and stupid teenage decisions. And avoiding Mr. Martin and his afterlife support group because he was unsettling, to say the least.
 “This spot taken?” Your head lolled to the side, finding a fellow dead jock standing above you.
Wally Clark had discovered you on the fifteenth anniversary of his father’s not coming to the Homecoming game. He’d wanted a quiet place and one where Janet wouldn’t follow.
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2022 Day After Homecoming Game
The door slammed from the stairwell slammed open, and the muffled sound of sniffling could be heard. Then, the shuffling of sneakers came to an abrupt stop.
“Oh. Sorry.”
Your eyes left the book in your hands to the tall teen towering over you. One of the longer-term ghosts residing at Split River High School.
 “I-I didn’t know anyone used the roof. Are you new?” 
“Nope. Been residing in the afterlife awhile now.” You responded, leaning against the roof’s edge, “Proceed for whatever you were here for.”
Whatever emotional breakdown he was about to have ceased in favour of plopping right down beside you. His head shifting more in your peripheral. He froze when your fingers stopped moving in page-turning.
“Oh, sorry.” He leaned away sheepishly, “Am I annoying you?”
Your brows furrowed, “I’ve read the book a few times. So what brings you to my humble death place.”
“You died up here? Wouldn’t we have heard about-?”
“I didn’t die up here.” You interrupted him to shift to face him fully, “You’re the guy the stadium is named after, right?”
“Wally Clark.” The ghost said, holding his hand out. You exchanged your name in response. Wally slowly repeated your name as if savouring it.
“So seriously, are you okay? You were crying-“
“I died on the football field in 1984. Last night was the first time my dad wasn’t there.” Wally breathed, tilting his head to stare at the sky, “It really hits home that time is going by, and I’m standing still.”
You nudged his knee with your own, “I’m sorry about that. You’re welcome to hang out here to get away.”
“That’d be nice. I feel like all the ghosts expect me to be the outgoing, always happy guy.”
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“How was the dance?” You asked as Wally settled on the ground beside you. The ends of his white bowtie hung loosely, and his suit jacket draped across his lap.
“It’s alright. Could have been better.” He spoke, dropping his arm around your shoulders to tug you into his side, “Simon persuaded the DJ to play a couple real hits. One day I’m gonna convince you to go with me.”
Your lips twitched. It was a pastime of Wally’s trying to get you to join in with everyone, especially with the whole drama with the new girl. Thankfully he understood and respected your decision to keep away.
You hadn’t spent years in secret from the support group for no reason. Instead, you existed peacefully in their obliviousness on the roof.
“Nah, I much prefer spending time up here.” You grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Maddie settling in?”
“She’s adjusting as well as she can. Rhonda’s warming up to her. The whole thing she had with Simon is nuts still.”
Maddie Nears, aka the newbie, had shown up suddenly in the afterlife with no memory of her death. Or the events leading up. The pool of suspects is deep, and the desperation to be found alive is strong. 
As he relayed the new development, you tried to think of anything but what you had done today. How do you tell your dead boyfriend something that makes Maddie and Simon’s communication seems like child’s play?
“-What about your day?” Wally questioned, moving so you’re leaning your back against his chest. 
You sighed happily when his arms came to wrap around your shoulders and press his lips to your head. 
“I snuck down to the lost and found for a new book. Mina left a couple things for me too.” 
The friendship you had with the ghost of the stagehand mind boggled Wally. Mina hadn’t left the theatre since the stage light fell on her in the late ’80s. She was eccentric, to say the least, but the only ghost other than Wally that knew about you.
“How? She always screams at us.” Wally chuckled, “Maddie’s the first that cracked through.”
“I got her a script for a production she loves and let her direct me on her birthday.” You hummed, crossing your ankles. Your eyes flinched open in perfect sync with Wally’s tensing up.
“How did you get a script-“Wally trailed off, staring at the stars twinkling under the night sky, “Whoa, wait.”
Wally’s mind flickered to the conversation with Maddie after talking with Mina.
“There’s another ghost. Mina mentioned something about me not being the first ghost outlier. That me talking to Simon isn’t earth shattering.”
Wally’s eyes swept from Ursa Major to your e/c eyes, refusing to lock with his dark brown.
“Can you talk to the living?” Wally demanded, shifting away. The space he created cracks your heart more.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Maddie’s the only one. I can just…sorta leave the school grounds?” You trailed off with a wince. The betrayal is a wicked shattering force to your bubble with the former football player.
“…you can leave the school? And not be slammed back to where you died?!” Wally’s fists went straight into his dark strands. The hair being tugged under his stress.
“Because I didn’t technically die here. I had a health condition and was declared clinically dead a few times. So, wherever my heart stopped, and I escaped, that death destination is a place where I could go. It hurts.”
Wally scoffed, blinking, “We spent the last year, and you kept that a secret. You never told me anything about how you died or this huge thing for over a year. I’ve told you everything.”
Your lips parted to respond, but the door was already slamming behind Wally on his descent back into the building. His long legs eating up half the stairwell by the time you’d opened the door.
“Wally! Wally, wait!” You shouted, sprinting down the stairs, “I swear I was going to tell you!”
The expression on his face was enough to freeze you on the last step, “Don’t you have another place to haunt.”
Your mouth dropped open, watching him disappear in the sea of living students still on school grounds. Your eyes find the blue irises of Maddie Nears. Surprise lighting up in her gaze. Your expression twisted before turning on your heel to flee the area.
The last thing you wanted was to talk with the girl you were assigned to show around on her first day. Stupid school tradition pairing a senior with a freshman.
“Hey!”
Maddie popped around the corner to a dead end where you were nowhere to be found. Instead, you’d slipped into a space where you popped up in a different area of Split River with a sheer scream at the pain.
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The fight with Wally kept you from returning to the school grounds. You didn’t know a particular ghost was spending hours on the roof anxiously waiting for you. Instead, you were watching your half-sister playing with her Barbie doll in the backyard of your childhood home.
Your arms tugged your legs to your chest. You rarely visited your family home since you watched the paramedics had arrived at 3am four years ago to remove your corpse from the house. 
“Ava!” 
Your head watched the little girl with piggy tails perk up, hearing your shared father’s voice. Your eyes take in the person you miss most in the world. It always hurt seeing the dimness your death had caused in his eyes.
The streaks of grey in his hair and beard showed the grief of losing you had caused. The guilt he barely masked from your sister. 
“Daddy!” Ava beamed, diving into his arms, “Are we taking Sissy flowers?”
Your lip quivered, hearing the adoration coating each word Ava spoke with that lisp. Speech therapy and growing up making the lisp less pronounced. Ava had barely been two when you died. 
The product of your father finding love again with a wonderful person who loved you and happily stepped into a parent role. You’d lucked out with getting a really great step-parent and a half-sister but a shitty hand for health.
“Absolutely. Do you think Sissy would like daisies this time?” Your grin grew, listening to Ava burst into excitement. 
You watched as the car disappeared around the corner before entering the house. Your room barely had any dust from Riley’s insistence on keeping it clean. Sometimes Ava would toddle in with a toy and curl in your bed to sleep.
Your clothing is still hung in the closet, your computer on your desk and all your pictures on the corkboard. Your phone was already safely tucked in your pocket with the charging cord in your backpack from the first visit back to the house.
The last time you visited your home was Ava’s birthday a few months ago. Long enough, the air freshener in your room had changed to the scent you loved during springtime. So it was time to rotate out a few items of clothing you wore. 
Your eyes lingered on the picture of your volleyball team wearing matching homemade t-shirts. A year after you died, they got together for a volleyball charity event in your name. Last you heard, two of them had become nurses, and one was on the career path to research your condition.
The following photo was of your mom holding you in her arms with a beaming grin matching yours. You hoped the move to Hawaii brought that smile back. You hoped Matthew was everything she deserved. You hoped she learnt how to live life again. 
“I miss you.” You murmured, pressing your fingers against her smiling face. 
The tears obscured your vision and the pacing form of your boyfriend when you opened the rooftop door. Your breathing gasping when his arms wrapped tight around your body.
“I am so sorry.” Wally mumbled in the crook of your neck, “Where were you? I’ve been up here for the last three days.”
“I went home.” You whispered, pressing your forehead to his chest, “I-I don’t leave often. It hurts when I leave a place I died, like the universe or some bullshit forgets this isn’t the only place I died. So it’s like I’m gonna be spit out back in my death place here before I’m in my destination.”
You barely noticed when Wally tugged you to sit in the same spot he first met and talked to you. The roof’s gravel gives the feeling of digging in your jeans; you gave up trying to explain the metaphysical world a year after your death. Instead, Wally listened as you opened up the pieces of yourself you had kept to yourself.
“I was born healthy and lived healthily for a few years before I started getting sick. It broke my parents’ hearts. By the time I was sixteen, I had spent half my life in hospitals and doctors’ offices. Promises of working treatments and possibly experimental trials.” Your gaze stared off into the distance, “It was just noise by the time I graduated. I knew my body had a couple more miles before it would give out.”
“How are you….”
“I collapsed in the gym. I was clinically dead for a minute, but it was enough for this school to be a death destination. The mall once, the hospital twice, and the talk of transplants came around. Finally, I died in my backyard. It was late, and I was alone outside.”
You vividly remembered screaming beside your corpse. Sobbing when you heard your dad break down, cradling you in his arms. Him calling you your childhood nickname and the one you heard in home videos of ‘baby girl’.
“That’s why you love the roof so much. You died watching the stars.” Wally whispered, tilting his head to kiss your temple. His fingers toying with the sweater with the volleyball team logo.
“I did.” You chuckled, “I have a little sister named Ava. She’s five now. She has minimal memories of me, but her favourite thing is bringing flowers to my grave. This past visit was daisies. My dad remarried when I was in middle school, and my mom a couple years before I died.”
“Your parents still live in Split River?”
“My dad and Riley live in my childhood home with Ava. I think they’re talking about maybe having another baby. My mom took my death the worst. Her older brother died in 1995 with his band members. My mom moved to Hawaii with her husband. Split River had too many memories for her. So when Matt was offered a job there, they left.”
“Ava.” Wally hummed, “I like that name.”
“Maddie knew me.” You offered after laying with Wally for a while in comfortable silence. His fingers draw shapes on your bare back under the sweater. His fingers briefly halted before moving again, “When you were alive, did Split River do this thing where a senior was paired with a freshman?”
“Oh yeah. I got paired up with this insanely smart guy. He went on to found this hugely popular website like that Facebook you showed me.”
“Myspace? You got paired with one of the founders?” You spoke, blinking at his grin, “Well, when I was a senior, I got paired with Maddie. Before her dad died, he worked with mine. So, I knew her at work BBQs.”
“Speaking about Maddie…do you want to re-meet her and meet my friends?”
Your eyes narrowed, “This is dues for keeping the secret.”
“Oh, 100%. Secret stays between us, but yeah, you’re definitely meeting my friends. You should check out the support group, Mr. M isn't too bad.”
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