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#Yours in Eternity My Dearest
dementedfilament · 2 years
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Just a quick update because I’m excited! My Willliam letters fic, Yours in Eternity, My Dearest, will have about 30-40 letters total~
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phntasmgoria · 3 months
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muse tags, here we fucking go
1/????
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salaimoi · 2 months
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𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: GUYS THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! I finally wrote a fic that isn’t about GOJO?! whaaaaaaat is the world as we know it coming to an end? D:
Past lover Sukuna who originally took no interest in you being his wife, but eventually, your abiding love taught him to do so. But, it was far too late when you established that he was indeed capable of loving someone other than himself. Your demise caused him to lose the individual he held dearest in this world – replacing the affectionate sentiment that had been coursing through his heart with resentment.
Past lover Sukuna who had anticipated your fated return once more since the Heian Era, only for your rebirth to never arrive, even though millennia went by. The benevolent soul he eagerly waited for became ensnared in the depths of the underworld, unable to reincarnate into the mortal world.
Even then, he was more than certain that you weren’t at eternal rest because of the longing, the nostalgia, and the need to be together again that he felt. 
He knew your anima was among the 7 realms somewhere; all he had to do was wait for your return. Heaven could wait as long as it meant laying eyes on that precious face of yours once more.
Past lover Sukuna who noticed the spitting image of his deceased wife walking down the street that fateful day. He couldn’t pass up this opportunity to have you once more in this lifetime as well – even if it was borderline selfish. 
To bring back those good old times; to bring back what was his. 
To hold you. To own you. To conquer you. To possess you. To control your soul. To do whatever he wanted to with you. 
To be with you once again, reverting to a time when he could feel affection – the way he liked best.
Past lover Sukuna who gripped your arm vigorously out of the blue among the crowd, because Sukuna never knew boundaries – not when it came to his beloved. 
“You look familiar,” he said, “not only the uncanny face shape and the exact same expression… but also your scent.” His gaze unrelenting as he scanned every aspect of your being as if you were his property, to make sure it was you – and he was correct. 
You were the same woman Sukuna fell in love with 1000 years ago. Alas, his delicate swan had returned to him after eons of suffering, like he knew you would.
Past lover Sukuna who noticed you squirming under his grip and scolded you, sharp nails digging at your flesh. 
“You shouldn’t be acting like this; it isn’t decent behavior for the reincarnation of my cherished wife to act in such a manner.” 
But you didn't remember a life before this one, nor did you recall his name or even the fact that you were once his most prized possession. 
Past lover Sukuna who waited over a thousand years just for his beloved to reincarnate into a mortal. He knew he wasn’t capable of loving anybody nearly as much as he loved her. And now...now she's back.
When you left this world, you took all – if any – of the sense of compassion he had. No one in the history of sorcerers and curses alike could come close to comprehending the misery he endured with each passing day.
Time and time again, reliving his wife’s death in his subconscious. Powerless to intervene as he witnessed the life drain out of her and transfer onto his fingertips.
“I missed you all those years, and I can't have the same fate happening again. I'm not going to let you die the way you did in your past life, got it?" Never forgetting to conceal the anguish in his words, as to not let himself be too vulnerable.
Past lover Sukuna who was hellbent on evoking in you the sentiment of what it was like to be his spouse. Even if it meant having to recreate every single romantic scenario he ever experienced with you a second time.
“I finally have you with me again. All I need to do is make you remember the feelings you had for me in your previous life, and then you'll have your past self fully restored.”
To you, it would entail falling in love with him all over again; to him, it would be a refresher on what you once shared. A win-win scenario.
Past lover Sukuna who began to notice the essence of that past life slowly merging with your current self, fusing the two identities into one. The love she felt a thousand years ago was slowly reawakening. All while Sukuna stood there in awe of the magnificent sight he was witnessing; the sight of his beloved being reborn again. The reunion of two souls was happening before his eyes, and it was almost emotional to see.
Past lover Sukuna whose heart felt heavy from the weight of joy and relief that he felt. He finally reunited with his once-lost lover. The essence of her former life was fully restored once more as she was standing right next to him. It seemed unreal to see her with his own eyes – his beloved was back, at long last. The eternal years of hardship for the sake of his plan were finally worth it.
Current lover Sukuna whose fingers ran through the locks sprawled over his lap – calming the both of you to no bounds when his fingernails rake through your scalp. His free hand holding onto your wrist tightly, because he had to be sure no one would snatch you from his grasp a second time.
“I missed you so damn much…more than you could ever possibly imagine.”
Current lover Sukuna who finally admitted to his feelings for the first time in millennium, because he missed you more than anything in this infernal world.
Current lover Sukuna who admired you with a soft expression, shocked at how angelic you were even after a thousand years.
“You still look as gorgeous as you did a lifetime ago.” words dripping with genuine adoration as he gazed down at his wife.
Current lover Sukuna who wondered how that was possible in the first place. Surely, granting him access to a companion of your caliber – with such a pure heart and soul – was a mistake of some kind?
Current lover Sukuna who thought, “All is right in this world again.” to himself. Because it was. You were by his side once more – right where you belonged.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn s/o asking to kiss him on the lips?
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Blade: finds it adorable. Absolutely adorable when you finally mustered up the courage to ask for what you want.
‘So you do have a voice?’ And or ‘the mouse has finally squeaked.’ Is what he would say with a smirk as he’d watch you get flustered and embarrassed under his gaze.
As much as he teases you for your shyness, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride for you when you took the first step in speaking your mind.
It was nice to know his lessons weren’t going to waste but then again Blade wasn’t one to hold your innate shyness against you, he just wants you to feel as though you could ask him anything without feeling bad about it.
He’s a dick but he’s instantly melting upon feeling your hands cup his face and is in utter bliss when you finally draw him in for a tender, warm kiss. It’s his one slice of heavenly reprieve that he never, ever wants to be deprived of, ever.
God forbid you stop after one kiss, this man will grow lowly and drag you back himself for more because how dare you tempt him with a mere peck, give him at least a hundred more for fuck sake.
Welt: praises you for your bravery in asking as he knows that it’s not exactly an easy thing to do when you’re naturally shy and prone to giving up before you even try.
‘I’d be more than willing to fulfil your wish to the best of my abilities.’
He’s such a gentleman who’s not afraid of going slow just for your comfort if he see you getting overwhelmed by the mere thought of having to take charge when kissing.
You did ask but Welt was more than ready to step in when it was all becoming too much and guides you through it with a soft, low voice and gentle reminders of hand placement and breathing.
He doesn’t want you passing out on him now.
And besides he’s not the type to do anything to you without your permission.
Sunday: raises his brows in amusement.
‘Oh? How bold of you to ask such a thing my dearest.’ Is his response.
It’s like a predatory watching his prey when it comes to Sunday that you were prone to reframe from speaking upon your desires because it always felt as though the Halovian could see through you. Literally.
It triggers your fight of flight response real quick but you have to remind yourself that you were safe with Sunday. (Or are you?)
He’s got that face that told you that he knew what you were going to ask him before you say anything. Whether or not it’s under unsettling is up to you.
He can obviously see that your nervous and stressed about the whole thing and will try to reassure you that neither of you were going anywhere and that you could take your time, he’ll be there whenever you felt comfortable.
He’s in no rush to be anywhere, not when you’re concerned.
Gallagher: originally thinks something is wrong when he saw you stood there unresponsive for a good few minutes, only to blurt out not even a second later, ‘can I kiss you on the lips?’
His worries fade and a smile graced his lips as he chuckled.
‘You almost had me worried there sweetheart but are you sure you want me to kiss you? What if I decide to bite?’ He’d say cheekily and never had he seen you look more flustered than anything. It’s too cute!
You’re giving this man too much power but also making him weak in the knees and want to kneel at your feet and pledge eternal loyalty to you at the same time.
However whatever you want, Gallagher will provide and if you wanted to give him a kiss, then who was he to say no to such a sweet ask?
‘Please.’ You’d add on and Gallagher could swear he melted right then and there. The magic word worked wonders in your favour as he has you sat on his lap, his big hands holding your waist steady as he waits patiently for his kiss, whsilt you felt your face burn all the way up to your ears.
However beware that one kiss becomes a million kisses with this guy as he loves the feel of your lips against his that sometimes he forgets that you both need oxygen to breathe.
Dan Heng: is equally as flustered and embarrassed as you when you asked.
His face is beat red and his eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he then looks away elsewhere and covers the lower half of his face with a hand. Curse you for being so fucking cute and polite!
He’s swears you’ll be the death of him but then again he’s not complaining.
‘Make it quick.’ He’d say but never in a mean way, he’s just genuinely about to combust if you don’t kiss him now and when you do give him a kiss so soft against his lips, you’ll have to shove his face into an ice bath or something with how unnaturally red it is.
You’re both awkward and new at this but that’s what makes every kiss you share afterwards so special and unique.
I wouldn’t put it past Dan Heng is he goes in for another kiss, he’s unabashedly become addicted to the taste of your lips.
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bigfatbimbo · 4 months
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I saw requests were open, and idk if this would be something up your alley, by I would like to see your writing for Alastor with a mommy kink!
a/n — Up my alley? UP MY ALLEY? BABES THIS IS THE WHOLE DOWNTOWN STREET.
I quite literally giggled and kicked my feet when I saw this because… yes?
Anyways though, I was so tired last night when I wrote this so I apologize if it’s shorter than you hoped.
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“Ah— careful, my dear,” Alastor winced as you slid onto his cock. His hands were tied to the bed post, and the only thing giving him any illusion of control was his faltering grin.
It was incredibly rewarding to see him like this, open and defenseless against you. It was putting him on edge, you could tell easily from the way his shoulders tightened and his smile wrinkled down, ever so slightly. 
“Relax,” you caressed his face with your thumb, “Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.”
You felt his dick twitch inside you, “Nngh, d—dearest, I—“
He’s cute off by an embarrassingly loud whine when you start rolling your hips.
He looks absolutely horrified at himself for the lack of power in the situation, but he doesn’t have time to think about it for too long before your cunt clenches down on his dick. 
“Who knew the Radio Demon would sound so pretty in bed?” you tease as you speed up.
Alastor curses himself for the deep static-y moan that comes out. He hated feeling so desperate but he sure as hell loved your attention. 
“You—ugh—“ He couldn’t focus with all the stimulation, “—this is perverted.” He stated it as if he wasn’t constantly letting out breathy moans.
“I know you love having mommy dote on you like this , Alastor,” you coo down at him and stroke his hair.
Alastors eyes widened at that comment, before he let out a needy whine.
“You want to be taken care of, pretty baby?” You hump his dick rougher, he nods vigorously. “Want me to praise you and tell you how good of a boy you are?”
He threw his head back into the pillow and kicked his feet out, struggling against the restraint around his wrists.
“Mommy, m—mommy, yes I want—“ his moans and whines are more apparent now as if he stopped trying to hide them. 
“You want what, sweetheart?”
“I want—“ he tried again, struggling to collect his thoughts while you milked his sensitive cock. Sex wasn’t something he engaged in often so the sensations got to his head fast.
“Use your words, darling,” you bite your lip while you ride him.
“—I want you, mommy, I need you,” he finished, feeling as if he hadn’t articulated what he’d been trying too. 
“Good boy, Alastor, telling me what you want.” You praise, running your hands over his chest.
He moaned pathetically. There was something so madly appealing to him about you calling yourself his ‘mommy.’ 
Some part of Alastor, deep inside of him, yearned to be praised and cared for. It had been almost an eternity since anyone had done so.
He whined your title in useless slurs, calling out for more. More of what? He didn’t know. He just craved your attention, your touch, your affection, like a starved man.
Your hands roamed his body, along with your lips, while you pussy drank up his cock. His whimpers were getting more frequent and staticky with every hip thrust and bite.
You sensed his climax building from the way he squirmed underneath the restraints of the wrist binds and bucked his dick up into you subconsciously. 
In truth, you could feel your own orgasm approaching as well, but you wanted to draw out this for as long as possible. After all, it’s not every day you have the Radio Demon whining for your approval.
“Mommy, ‘m almost there, ‘m so close,” He moaned, still squirming and biting his lip to hold back his release.
His eyes searched yours for the approval to cum, but it wasn’t there.
Instead, finding a vague sympathy as you continued grinding down on his dick, “I know, sweetheart, I know. You’re just going to have to wait, though.”
He whined miserably and kicked his feet. He didn’t like this answer, but for whatever reason he didn’t want to disappoint you.
“Your going to have to wait til after I cum baby,” You explain, breathlessness creeping into your voice, “Until then you’ll just have to be my good boy. How’s that sound?”
He nodded his head weakly, wincing at all of the attention on his cock as he tried to hold back.
You speed up, going fast enough for your orgasm to approach but not fast enough for it to be over to soon.
“Being so good for mommy, Al,” you coo, “Such good control, making mommy feel so good.”
The sides of his mouth look like they ache after smiling through all of this, but he whines regardless. 
His eyes are half lidded and needy, his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead while the ties around his wrists dug into his skin.
When you finally let go, you throw your head back and moan, still humping his cock but humming softly, satisfied with your orgasm and equally proud of Alastors restraint.
“Please,” Alastor whimpers, trying his hardest to lean up into your touch before being stopped by the ropes, “Please, mommy, now.”
“My pretty baby, of course you can—“ you didn’t even finish your sentence before being cut off by he’s loud desperate moan.
He came almost immediately after getting your approval and then fell back into the mattress, whispering quiet phrases of ‘Thank you, mommy,’
You pulled yourself off of him and laid down next to him on the bed. After untying the ropes around his wrists you take him in your arms and stroke his hair.
“You did so good for me, sweetheart. ‘m so proud of you,” you spoke softly in his ears.
Alastor didn’t say anything, only letting out a small hum of contentment and burying his face in your neck. 
You take one of his hands in yours and  observe the light bruise the restraints left of his  wrist. You rub your thumb against the injury and he winces. For a moment, you’re worried they were tied to tight until you catch a glimpse of his face. 
His usually shit-eating grin was replaced by what looked like a smile of genuine satisfaction.
You quietly applauded yourself for accomplishing something you once thought to be impossible, before you rose slightly on the bed.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Al,” you say. You try to move but his arms clings onto your neck and hold on for life. He whines slightly.
“Alright,” you give in and sit back down, “maybe we can’t wait a little longer.”
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a/n — this guys misses his mommy so much it’s not even funny oh my god. He’s way more pathetic than meets the eye guys, trust.
I feel like he would get super needy and clingy after this too like. He would constantly be needing all of attention at all times. He would just be competing with everyone for your attention it’d be wild.
It would make for some absolute fire songs though.
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ohdeerfully · 3 months
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Man, I just need some more sleepy Alastor x reader. Honestly, I don’t know what the plot would be or whatever but I am a literal magnet when it comes to sleepy characters😋😋
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Lazy Morning
Alastor x Reader (fluff)
TW: none!
join my discord!
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You stretched your arms up and out as you woke up, eyes flickering open at the bright red of Hell’s sky filtering through the curtains of your room. You let your eyes close again for a moment, sighing and going limp under your covers again. You had a long night, and just… a few more minutes…
Your consciousness started slipping again, and you felt so comfortable under your fluffy duvet…
Knock, knock knock
Your eyes cracked open and you couldn’t stop the groan that escaped your lips. You knew exactly who knocked on your door, because he had a particular way of doing so every time. You weren’t upset that he was here, but you were upset that he was rousing you from your comfortable bed.
“Let yourself in,” You called, unintentionally sharp. You tugged the blanket around your face tighter, staring at the door as it opened softly.
Alastor peeked the top half of his body in, looked at you, laughed lightly, and fully entered the room. 
“My dearest,” He said through a gentle grin. His head tilted to the side, as if he was confused to see you laying there. “It’s… rather late in the morning! Don’t waste your eternity lying in bed!”
You simply hummed in response, and you didn’t move an inch. He stepped forwards towards your bed, looming over you. You had trouble seeing his face in the long shadows cast by the violently bright morning beaming through your curtains. But, you could tell there was a disapproving look in his features. He hated unproductivity. 
“Could you close the curtains tighter,” You pleaded, ignoring his earlier comment. You were growing irritated at the light, and shoved your face into the pillow.
Alastor ‘tsked’ and walked towards the curtains. His sharp fingers dug into the fabric… before he sharply pulled them apart, blasting light into your room.
You shouted wordlessly at him, though an intelligible ‘you dick’ was heard in your otherwise mindless yells. Alastor only cackled at you, dramatically wiping a fake tear from his eye—the sound of a laugh track on his cane joined him. He was cut off when a pillow hit him square in the face.
“Fucking close them!” You practically screamed. Your voice cracked, still dripping with sleep. You were squinting in the light to the point your eyes might as well be shut.
Alastor obeyed with a hum, a pleased look in his eyes at his own antics. The room was swamped in darkness. The demon walked towards your bed again, his eyes slightly glowing in the darkness. You watched him as he watched you.
“Now, when do you plan on not being so lazy?” There was a hint of a tease in his voice. “It’s a wonderful day in Hell.”
You slid your arms out from the blanket and reached towards him. He looked at your arms strangely. You rolled your eyes at his cluelessness.
“I’ll get up if you stay with me for a few minutes.”
Alastor thought for a moment before gingerly setting himself down on the bed near you. “I’m not going to babysit you,” He began. “Just b-” You cut him off with a whine. His eyes narrowed at you.
“Get closer,” You demanded, your arms still outstretched. Alastor wasn’t the biggest fan of your childish attitude, but he bit back a comment and scooted a couple inches forward. You lifted yourself up slightly and slid your hands behind his back, tugging him forward.
With anybody else, Alastor would have probably yanked off an arm, or something. His heart held a strangely soft spot for you, though, and he was able to fight off his instincts to let himself get dragged by your hands. He caught himself from falling completely forward, his hands placed flat on either side of your head.
You smiled up at him, a sleepy look still affecting your eyes. He felt his chest squeeze while he looked down at you. It took him a while to get used to the strange, alien emotions you made him feel in the months after he confessed to “feeling a strange way about you”, but he was starting to become more acquainted with them. He clenched his jaw, his smile becoming low and watery as his eyes watched your hand drag a light finger down his cheek.
“You curse me,” His voice was low and intimate, and it lacked the sound of radio frequency. His face inched closer to yours as he spoke. “I feel so weak near you.” He kept the fact that he hated it to himself.
You gave him a lazy, lopsided grin. “I consider myself more like a hex, really.” This made Alastor smile a bit wider. He pressed his face into your neck, and you laughed lightly at the sensation of his hair tickling your skin. He inhaled sharply before sighing, settling his body next to you.
What a change in mood, You thought to yourself as Alastor snaked an arm under your head. You saw a tired look in his eyes, something that he would tend to hide in his day to day. You knew he didn’t sleep much. 
“It’s been a few minutes,” Alastor commented. His voice had a twinge of exhaustion in it, likely brought on by laying down. It was no surprise that sleep would jump on him like a rabid animal since he kept himself awake for seemingly days on end.
“Just a few more,” You pleaded. You pressed your face into his chest, and felt it rumble slightly when he hummed an ‘okay’ in response to your request. You curled your arm around his torso.
You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you know you did when you crack open your eyes and your body feels heavy, still waking up. You lift yourself, but stop when you feel the weight of Alastor’s arm around you. You smile when you look down and see a soft, sleepy smile on his lips and a relaxed look on his features.
You slip yourself from his grip, and his eyes crack open. His eyebrows furrow for a moment, and you watch as he stifles a yawn.
You wordlessly blinks his eyes open and looks at you.
“Ready to get up?” You ask him, leaning over to stare directly down at him.
He closes his eyes in response again and sighs, simultaneously lifting an arm to lightly wrap around your waist.
You watch him for a few seconds, before looking up and around your room. Your eyes settle on your curtains, an ominous glow of light emanating from the edges. A sinister smile peaks your lips, and you weigh the pros and cons.
It was a brief thought, though, because when you looked back down at Alastor all evil intent left your body. This guy never slept, you shouldn’t interrupt this just to get back at him.
Plus, how endearing he looked, so vulnerable underneath you. The Radio Demon, sleeping, guards lowered, trusting you. You leaned down and pressed a careful kiss against his forehead before lying back down. He was quick to swamp you with his arms once again, and you suddenly wondered if it’d be so bad to sleep the day away.
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yandere-daydreams · 3 months
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Title: Intoxicated.
Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).
Word Count: 1.0k.
TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.
[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]
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His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.
A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.
Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.
“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”
That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—
As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”
“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”
“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”
He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”
Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.
“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.
“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”
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hunny-beann · 6 months
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I am literally having the worst day ever, do you think you could write some insanely fluffy Dream for me? I'm talking tooth rotting levels of fluff here.
Rest Now, Wife, Mine
Dream of the Endless x f!Reader
Note: Hi anon! Thanks a ton for the adorable request, I had a lot of fun with it and really hope it helps make your day feel a bit better <3
Synopsis: Morpheus' wife finds their bed far too lonely without him in it, and seeks out his presence to remedy this so she may finally succumb to slumber for the evening.
Thankfully, he is all too happy to oblige.
Warnings: None! Just pure and unbridled fluff :)
Word Count: 1,298
Her steps are silent and her pace slow as she approaches the familiar throne room, sensing even from outside of its walls that it is as close to empty as it is going to get for the evening.
That said, as close to empty as possible for the throne room of an Endless such as Dream was not nearly as empty as one might think, with it being a rarity that he not be found there.
She fights back a shiver as she steps across the threshold, her bare feet suddenly far colder than before, and her majority uncovered shoulders beginning to undergo horripilation at the seemingly inexplicable shift in temperature.
That said, being easy to explain was not a rule that the Dreaming followed, so this was nothing new, and certainly nothing unexpected.
Though, the sudden voice that split the once heavy silence in twain on the other hand, was.
"And what could possibly have you awake at such an hour, dear wife?"
The voice asked quietly, laced with both amusement and even a twinge of concern that had the wife in question smiling softly in spite of her best efforts to not appear excited at the mere sound of her love's voice.
Oh, but she had never been that strong, had she?
He had her wrapped around his finger just as he did the entire realm that he ruled, though he notably reserved the one with the ring for her and her alone.
She padded up toward his throne quietly, not willing to answer his question until she was close enough that her voice might not reverberate so loudly off of the palace walls.
Some words, she had decided long ago, were for her husband and her husband alone.
Upon her eager approach, the Lord of Dreams could not help but raise one of the corners of his mouth at the mere sight of her, holding his hand out at her nearness to guide her to stand before his crossed legs as he reached gently to take her other in his own as well, making a mental note of how chilled her extremities felt due to the cool night air of his throne room.
He watched as she slackened slightly at his familiar touch, her body always so happy to find him near in a way never ceased to have his heart all but melting at her feet.
What a disastrous little thing she was, truly.
He could never love another.
As her form relaxed at the feeling of his hands on hers, so loving in spite of the power that they held, she could not help but yawn softly, eyes growing teary as her ease allowed the weight of the day to truly set in.
Her dearest Dream Lord smirked up at her, his brow raised knowingly and his eyes twinkling as he watched her fight off the eternally tempting wiles of sleep.
What a sweet little thing, so helpless in her battles against her own biology that it was entirely too amusing to ignore, and always far too entertaining to neglect to bear witness to.
"You are tired, my dear."
The Lord of Dreams stated matter of factly, tugging his beloved closer using his soft grip on her hands so he could properly brush some of her hair behind her ear, a gesture which caused her eyelids to flutter closed briefly before they snapped open once more, her fight against herself not yet over in her eyes (though Dream could see clearly in the way that she swayed on her own two feet that there was already an obvious victor).
He chuckled quietly, shaking his head,
"You need to rest, sweet stardust. Let me bring you back to the bedroom."
He spoke gently, rising to guide her back to their soft and familiar bed only to halt when he heard her reply.
"No, I don't want to go back, you're just going to leave once you think I'm tired enough not to follow."
The Dream Lord faltered upon hearing this, raising a questioning brow in response before lowering himself down upon his throne once more, though this time he pulled his wife right along with him, sitting her on his lap in order to get a better look at her exhausted expression.
He frowned.
"Have you been staying awake on purpose, my love? Lying in wait for me as you promised you would not do?"
She shook her head, but he could see the way that the blood rushed into her cheeks as she tried to explain, embarrassed to admit the things that she had to in order to quell his worries of any intentional harm having been done.
"No, of course not, I just..."
The Lord of Dreams hummed and brought one hand to her back, rubbing up and down along her spine and feeling her lean against him unintentionally in response, her bones heavy and all too prepared to sink into whatever comfort they could find.
"You just what, dearest?"
He urged, causing his lover to nod blearily in response, slowly coming back to reality again.
"I just find that sometimes I cannot bear to sleep alone, that the bed feels far too wide and empty without you in it."
Dream fought back a slight smile upon hearing this, feeling more than a little bit proud to know that his wife could rely upon him enough to truly need him so (though he was notably unhappy to hear that this was causing her any amount of unnecessary strife).
"And is tonight one of those nights, beloved?"
He asked, watching as she nodded, her head lolling slightly upon her neck as her overworked muscles struggled to remain in control over her all too tired body and mind.
"Poor thing,"
Dream all but purred in response, adjusting his love upon his lap until she was leaning against him, breaths warm on his neck and body seeming to grow heavier by the second as the feeling of his familiar closeness drove her into a type of ease that was felt only at a lover's closeness.
"That will certainly have to be remedied, won't it?"
He murmured against her ear, feeling her shiver in response, nuzzling closer with a nod as he gathered his coat that had been hanging on the back of the dais behind him with just one hand, draping it over her body and pressing a soft kiss against her head as he felt her begin to drift off into a much needed and far too well deserved slumber.
"Rest now, wife, mine."
He said softly, feeling his dearest love smile gently against his skin at his familiar words and the use of his favorite (and almost sickeningly sweet) nickname for her,
"I will see to it that no one interrupts you as you do."
If she had been more awake, perhaps the woman would have rolled her eyes or even offered a sarcastic retort in response to her husband's dramatics, but instead she simply nudged herself closer, pressing a gentle kiss against the pale flesh of his neck before she drifted off for the very first time that night, feeling truly safe in the arms of her most adoring love.
And when morning arrived, and the throne room became far less uninhabited, the two of them made for quite a sight, indeed.
After all, who would have thought that the Lord of Dreams might choose to sleep simply to live life as his dear wife did, his cheek pressed gently against her head and his arms wrapped around her as slumber found them both, pulling them closer together, ever still, in the very same way that they belonged now, and always would for the remainder of eternity, and perhaps even beyond that.
ao3 link
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cherubfae · 3 months
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I'm the anon who asked if you write for mammon and adam. I just sent the ask in, but regardless of your reply i was wondering of you could write the hazbin cast +helluva boss cast (the ones you write obviously) with a super sleepy slot like s/o? Like they sleep all the dam time and are still tired as hell, so tired they literally fall to the ground while walking in silence for too much, they sit down for a second and go out cold. They move so slow it's incredible, theyre always super clingy and always hanging on by their shoulder, It's very concerning.
lmao this made me cackle. Here ya go, sweets! Apologies if you wanted something serious, I literally couldn't 😭😭 just had lunch with my mama to celebrate her belated bday and I'm very full
sloth!like partner || hazbin/helluva boss x reader
tags: fluff, comedy, this is probably mostly crack lmao, established relationships
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Alastor
Okay but remember him with the Egg Bois? That's essentially him waiting for you to get ready for your date. What feels like an eternity was only roughly thirty seconds. He hopes you haven't fallen asleep in the bathroom.
"Dearest... I could just teleport you to places with my shadow provided I'm somewhere near." He suggests. It takes him a while to get used to any sort of physical contact so he's not crazy about the clinginess and does what he can to establish boundaries if and when he feels comfortable doing so.
Lucifer
Haha! You're so adorable! He actually quite likes having you on his arm, though sometimes not literally. It's comical watching you climb him and then slowly lose your energy halfway to his shoulders and slow-motion crash land towards the ground. Rinse and repeat.
Husk
By now he's quite used to you falling asleep, especially on him. You tucker yourself out so easily, he wonders what tricks Belphegor has up their sleeves lately. Husk loves you for who you are, but he is rather curious if there's anything that can cure or at least lessen your narcoleptic behaviors.
Angel Dust
Constantly cracking jokes and puns. Some of them can come off as a little mean though it's never intended to hurt your feelings. Though, he does know not to make the 'slow-burn romance' jokes every time you guys have a date night.
Vox
He's gotten used to you being constantly sleepy and rather sluggish. He does wonder if you are, in fact, a Hellborn from Sloth instead of a Sinner sometimes or if you drew the short straw. Vox is typically okay if you're constantly sleepy and a bit sluggish, but he is a fast-paced guy and likes all aspects of his life to progress at a decent speed; romance included.
Blitzø
Deadass he's watching you slowly drag yourself face-down along the ground with a soft skrrrr skrrrr along the cement. Honestly he's surprised you made it on Earth as long as you did. This was amusing but the more you, literally, drag on Blitz isn't sure what he should do. He's probably gonna start driving everywhere. Gotta keep pollutin' bb.
Loona
With how often you sleep, Loona isn't sure how you still manage to be so tired all the time. It honestly perplexes her but she's learned to roll with it. If you're moving too slowly for her liking, she'll pick you up and carry you off like royalty-- or if you're small like Millie, Loona is gonna commit you to her backpack transit indefinitely.
Striker
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
"Ya'llright, darlin'?" He asked with a raised brow. You just ate shit and aren't currently really doing anything about getting back into the upright position. Striker's tail swishes curiously and he gently prods you with his boot, heaving a sigh when you move.
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mistiell · 9 months
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The one request that’s bouncing around my head is Astarion dealing with a sick mc like fever chills and no sense of balance because of vitiligo
Hope you enjoy <3 WC: 1.3k
---
You feel like shit. Total and utter shit.
What started as a sore throat has evolved into a fever and chills, along with an absolutely skull splitting migraine. The sheets twist uncomfortably as you turn onto your back, clinging to your sweat slicked skin. You can’t bring yourself to kick them off. Not when the ache in your bones makes it feel like they’re breaking.
The sun has been up for nearly an hour, now. If you don’t come out soon, one of your companions will come get you. A strangled whimper forces it’s way out of your throat as you force yourself up, curling in on yourself and dropping your face into your hands.
After trying to decide between attempting to take a breath through your sufficiently stuffed nose or through your mouth, you choose the latter. Which you realize is a terrible mistake when it suddenly feels like a thousand tiny knives are skinning the inside of your throat. It makes you cough, which makes it a million times worse, which makes you cough even more.
It’s a good minute until you can finally breathe again; throat raw, beads of tears drying on your lashes. You’re sure you’re a sorry sight. It makes you glad no one is here to see you in all your disease ridden glory.
“Sweet Hells, are you hacking up a lung in here–?” Not even all the way inside your tent yet, Astarion stops immediately after he lays eyes on you. The disgust is immediately replaced by a hesitant sort of concern, brows just barely creasing, “Oh dear.”
“Do I look that bad?” He grimaces at the way your voice grates, gaze flitting over various parts of you before he meets your eyes again.
“You look dreadful.” You think it’s meant to be playful, but he looks and sounds just a little too concerned for it to land that way.
You snort anyway, rubbing at your sweaty forehead, “Thanks.”
He hovers there, uncharacteristically quiet as he glances outside before sighing and coming the rest of the way inside. He’s still in his regular clothes, which makes you think the others haven’t started getting their armour on yet. Thank gods.
He sits down in front of you on your bedroll, knees barely a hair’s width from yours as he cradles the nape of your neck in a gentle hand and presses the inside of his wrist to your forehead. Eyes fluttering shut, a small sigh of relief escapes you when his blessedly cool skin meets yours. You barely think about it as you place a sluggish hand over it to keep him there.
“You’re nice and cool.” You sound listless.
“And you’re about as hot as the hells.” He sighs. You can hear the frown in his voice, “This has gotten out of hand.”
Peeling your eyes open, you blink at him in confusion, “What?”
He lets his wrist fall but keeps a kind hold on your neck, looking deadly serious.
“I know how much you love flattery, but you should know you really don’t have to go to such lengths to get me to wax poetic about your eternal beauty.” It seems like he can’t help the smile that cracks that through the act he’s putting on, “I truly appreciate the effort, but a simple, ‘Astarion, my dearest love, tell me I’m pretty.’ would do just fine.”
A giggle bubbles up from your throat, and you list forward to hide your face in his shoulder as you rasp weakly, “I do not sound like that.”
He hums, giving your nape a gentle squeeze before stroking a little line behind your ear with his thumb. You can feel his teasing smile against the side of your head, “Thankfully not. Should you ever call me your dearest love, I fear I may just drop dead a second time.”
Your laughter dies down, and you’re left with an astronomical wave of fatigue. He wraps his free arm around you when you slump further into him.
“Darling?” He jostles you a little bit. Again, he attempts a joke. Again, he’s too worried for it to come out right, “Don’t go dying on me now. With all we’ve been through, it would be such a waste.”
You huff a small, breathy puff of laughter, turning your face so the bridge of your nose rests against the side of his neck, “I won’t.”
He eases his hand up and down the length of your spine. You barely register it when he turns his head just enough to nose at your temple briefly.
“You should lay back down.” His voice is softer now. The feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear makes you shiver. Although, that could also be the fever.
You sigh, pulling yourself away from his shoulder. The movement sends the world tilting over and over in one direction. Breath hitching, you feel yourself sway as your eyes squeeze shut.
“What’s wrong?” He sounds a little alarmed as you drop your head into your hands.
“Vertigo.” You breathe. Everything keeps spinning behind your eyelids.
You can hear him shift before his hands find one of your forearms and your shoulder blades, guiding you to lay back.
“I have to–.”
He cuts you off, suddenly stern, “The only thing you have to do right now is rest.”
“But the others–.” You try again. It’s in vain.
Scoffing, he turns his nose up. “The others can shove it, as far as I’m concerned.”
You huff, ready to argue until you open your eyes and notice the anxious quirk of his brows. Instead, you sigh, sluggishly placing you hand over his, “Fine.”
You just barely manage to hear the small breath of relief that escapes him as he turns his hand to give yours a squeeze. He leans forward to press his lips to your forehead before pulling away, “I’ll be right back.”
You only nod.
He comes back five minutes later with a small bowl of water, a cloth, and two slices of bread balanced carefully in his arms.
“You don’t have to eat it yet.” Is all he says as he sets the plate down a little ways away. After wetting the cloth, he rings it out into the bowl and folds it in half before laying it over your forehead. You sigh as it cools your skin. It only lasts a few moments before your skin has warmed it again.
He tries again, then again, before huffing; frustrated.
“I’m sorry.” You croak, and he tuts, shaking his head.
“Don’t apologize, darling. It’s not you.” He sighs, looking properly perturbed now.
“Maybe Shadowheart–.”
“I asked. There’s nothing she can do.” It comes out bitterly, but you know it’s only because he’s worried.
You suddenly have an idea, but first you have to ask, “Can you get sick?”
Looking confused, he shakes his head, “No, I can’t. But, what-?” Pulling back the covers, you open your arms. It clicks, and he chuckles as he climbs in beside you, “Plan to use me as an ice pack, do you?”
“That’s the plan.” It comes out more deadpan than you mean it to. It makes him laugh a little harder, and you can feel the vibrations as your head settles over his chest. Having him next to you is like a balm in more ways than one.
Eyes heavy, you sigh as his hand trails idly along the length of your bicep. You guess he can hear your breathing and heart rate slowing when he whispers, “Sleep, my love.”
And who are you to deny him when he asks so nicely?
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dementedfilament · 2 years
Text
Before I get into editing this particular letter, what do y’all think Will’s favourite flower is?
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gamorxa · 3 months
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RESTLESS NIGHTS •°. *࿐
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PAIRINGS— paul atreides x valkyrie!reader
SUMMARY—from a young age you’ve been paul atreides’ personal apprentice, your duty being to remain professional in protecting the life of the heir to the house of atreides. however, things change after a rainy night of comforting paul after he awakens from one of his terrible visions.
NOTE—this is my first time writing and publishing anything like this for a character, but after seeing dune two i just had to. expect more creations from me in the future. Constructive criticism is welcome, just keep it nice and kind. let me know how i did!
word count: 1.2k
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Valkyries are very protective beings. In battle, their ultimate purpose is to carry the fallen warriors that perished in combat, and were worthy of eternal paradise, to Valhalla where their souls would reside in blissful harmony. However, there wasn’t just one type of valkyrie. A heroine valkyrie is what you were — the kind that only guarded the lives of those dearest to them. Your dearest was no one, but the son of the duke of atreides.
When you were first assigned to the house of atreides you just barely reached the ripe age of seven years old. In those times, your duty merely consisted of being the only company around his age the young boy had in his life. Innocent soft exchanges of giggles escaped from dimpled cheeks that ached from continuous smiles. Small pieces of grass littered the wild heads of curly hair the two of you possessed from previously rolling in the freshly cut grass the maintenance keepers recently trimmed. Within years, the grass turned to responsibilities, and the dimples into abstract bruises from the numerous sparing lessons shared between the two of you. Thus, your years of childish assignments were gone.
Now, you reside in the chambers next door to the young heir in case of any and all emergencies. You lie awake in your pristine silk sheets staring at the ceiling. The thunderous Caladan rain pelted down onto glass windows surrounding you, keeping you awake. This was your first night back from your annual trip to the emperor's headquarters where your sisters remain. No other planets you’ve ever visited didn’t have rain as loud as Caladan’s.
A loud groan breaks the song of raindrops singing along the windows.
You bolt out of bed and grab a dagger with the valkyries signature emblem on the hilt. Your hands turn white in contrast to your usual brown skin from how tight you hold it. Raising to the balls of your feet to remain as silent as possible, you trudge over to the door, leaving the comfort of your room. The marble flooring in the hallway tickles the bottom of your feet, but you barely notice due to your desperation to find the source the sound came from.
More thunder cracks. Another groan.
Your head sharply turns to the left toward Paul's room. Your body turns rigid.
Oh no.
Sprinting, you throw open his mahogany dark wood door making it slam into the back wall. There in rumpled sheets lies the source. His limbs are tangled in his blanket as he thrashes around in his bed, his face scrunched up in an expression of pure anguish. Wild brown curls surround him like a halo while the moonlight shines on his pale skin. He looks like an angel. A fallen angel.
“Paul,” you mumbled, letting your dagger slip from your hands.
He stirs in his sheets, letting out another low groan.
Rushing to the side of his bed, you dropped to your knees and cradle his face scanning the rest of body. Just in case.
“Paul!” you repeated.
He bolts up abruptly making your hands fall onto the bed. He’s panting as he looks around frantically before resting his eyes on you. His expression softens.
“Y/n?” His voice is raspier than normal due to the hours of restless sleep.
“It's okay, it’s okay,” you cooed. Your face filled with concern as you brush some of his wild hair out of his face. “I’m here.”
He sighs out the majority of the tension built up, rubbing his face from sleep with his trembling hands.
“More visions?” Your voice is so soft it tickles his ears creating a blanket of comfort. He doesn’t understand how a strong warrior could possess such a comforting voice, but that's one of the reasons he liked you so much. You never failed to make his worries disappear — not with a voice like that.
He only nods.
“Want to talk about it?” You rise from your spot on the floor to sit on the side of his bed making you at eye level and in closer proximity to the stressed boy. His eyes are slightly glossed over, and he’s avoiding eye contact as if he’s embarrassed.
“No,” he looks down in his lap before locking eyes with you, “I thought you were on your trip?”
You shake your head, “I came home early.”
Home. You saying it so casually almost makes Paul visibly melt.
“I missed you,” he whispers. His words hang in the air like a forbidden secret. Well, it was forbidden seeing as the relationship between the two of you was meant to be strictly professional. However, you two managed to lay on the thin layer of gray area in the matter.
You could only bashfully turn your head away towards the window. You hated how he’d say things like that in random moments. More so, you hated how much your cheeks would turn warm and your lips would scrunch to the corner of your face showcasing a deep dimple in the apple of your cheeks. The rain was still coming down harder without any plans to stop for the night.
The boy grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and redirects your attention to his face. You could only look down at your lap before eventually looking into his eyes.
Desire. Burning desire is what his eyes scream as he looks at you.
You escape his hands and rise to leave a painfully lingering kiss on his forehead.
“Get some rest, Mr. Atreides.” You say, slightly teasing as you move to get off the bed. However, he reaches for your hand stopping your movements.
“Stay,” he pleads with desperation laced in his tone.
You hesitate.
“Please, Y/n, I need you.” His eyes are low and bright from the moonlight still coating the inside of his room. His blanket lies low on his waist hiding his boxers, and showcasing his chest of lean and faint abs from his weeks of training. He looked so…
“Fine,” the words slip from your mouth before you realize. Before you know it, he’s scooting over and raising the covers to allow you to easily slip into his sheets. They’re warm from his body heat making you release a sigh of breath you didn’t know you were holding.
He looks at your chest before shyly looking you in the eyes, “Can I-”
You tiredly nod your head and open your arms out welcomingly. The boy immediately goes to rest his head on your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and tangling his legs with yours. This position feels completely natural and comforting from numerous other nights just like this one in the past. Your hands go to his curls and start massaging his head.
“Thank you,” he rasps out, barely staying awake, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Always,” you started, “I’ll always be here.”
You look down to find that the tired boy has already fallen asleep. With a small smile on your face you look up at the ceiling as more lighting cracks outside. You close your eyes assuming he missed your words.
He heard them. He always does.
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lovelykhaleesiii · 20 days
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Can I request a smutty fic for Aemond, please? The base idea I had is that he's been at war for a while and finally reunites with his wife, so it's quite passionate. I leave the finer details to your expertise ♡
Sacrifices with Intimacy
PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!fem!Reader
WORDS: 1,805.
WARNINGS: p in v sexual intercourse, female oral receiving, praise kink, breeding kink, swearing.
A/N - haven't written for Aemond in a long while, so forgive me if this is trash! sorry about the long wait, Ez. I hope you genuinely enjoy this! all this new content for Aem/Ewan is stirring some deep feelings! thanks for being so patient and kind.
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The toils of this war had felt like an eternity, and undeniably, you had missed your beloved husband dearly...
Aemond Targaryen, the second son of King Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower: your betrothed and in eager time, your doting husband, was called at arms to fight the war in the name and honour of his elder brother, the King now, Aegon II. Aemond expressed no hesitation to act in defence, even if this meant sacrificing sacred time with you. As much as his reasons were to defend the honour and dignity of his family, he fought in battle with intent of smothering all grounds of harm towards you by all means. He thoroughly intended to vanquish any potential enemy or ounce of threat, kin alike, if it meant that you live a life free from suffering.
A sacrifice needed to fulfil this meant his prolonged absence in your life. An absence felt too deeply indeed, like an open gash, exposed to the natural chill of the air. Until the familiar, thunderous roars and bellowing gush of winds roared across the daylight, roars and wings that could only belong to one great dragon...Vhagar.
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"My beloved—"
"Aem!"
An embrace long overdue, like no other. Against your body, Aemond's hold felt constricting yet oddly comforting, pressing you as deep against his slim physique as possible.
"You've returned sooner than I'd anticipated—"
"Do you not wish me to be here, my dearest? Has my early return not pleased you so?" He huskily murmurs, his voice deep: warming your heart so, as it had been so long since you'd heard the familiar tone. A deep chuckle echoing to your ears, as you nuzzle against his neck, longingly inhaling his musky scent.
"Well now that you're here, I may never let you go again—," You faintly whisper, enough only for Aemond's ears, as the dragon-keepers urgently tend to the monstrous Vhagar.
"Have your duties in Harrenhall come to a close? Need you take your place now here in King's Landing?"
"For the time being, my beloved. For the foreseeable future, I am to remain here... Rightfully beside you."
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Despite all fruitless attempts of his Grandsire, the Hand, and the Dowager Queen, Alicent Hightower, urging Aemond to attend council meetings to arrange further battle plans and to discuss progress: Aemond remained solidly adamant in his stance.
"I've sacrificed enough of my time fighting this war in the name of this family. An evening to spare with my wife, I should warrant at the very least."
He was to spend the entirety of the evening, every passing hour, minute and seconds with you, soaking each other up to make amends for such deficiencies.
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Your bare bodies entwined against each other, feeling the heat radiating from his muscular body.
"You've grown leaner, my love... Are they not feeding their troops?"
His calloused hands take their sweet, precious time lightly tracing over the curves of your naked body: scoring goosebumps to course over your soft skin where he had hovered. His touch had become alien to you now, and yet you craved for him to never let go.
"They feed us, although not well enough... And not for the delicacies that I desire," his lowly voice made your eager ears prick up, excited to hear his every word, to listen to him speak mindlessly for hours on end. A growl etched as his good eye lingered over your calm, sensual figure.
Slowly, you kneel yourself up over towards him, straddling his chest: his rough hands gripping the outer flesh of your tender thighs, squeezing and tapping at the meat, nudging for you to move up closer towards him. A sly smirk stricken across his handsome face, a face now masked with lingering yet subtle scratches and marks, proof of his succession in battles. Your finger lightly tracing over their lightning-like marks, gently until reaching the infamous sapphire eye.
"Do you still find me handsome as the day we wed?"
"Always, Aem—”
"Do you still want your husband to eat that pretty cunt of yours out? Been craving for me, silly princess, even if you deny it... I can feel you throbbing against me now."
Now knelt, hovering ever so closely to his face, you slowly sink yourself down, feeling your cheeks now well rested comfortably against his broad shoulders. His ravenous tongue spared no second plunging itself into your walls, as his lips curled and lapped at your moist entrance.
"Hmm—" A deep, penetrating sound vibrating from his lips against yours, you felt your dead weight plunge deeper, the walls of your silky cunt feeling tight and tickly against his guzzling mouth. You felt your body bobbing subtly up and down, in sync with his heaving chest, as his breaths grew deeper and denser.
"My husband, the saviour of the Seven Kingdoms... A-And I have h-him a-at my beck and call, b-beneath me."
Breathless and exhilarated, your wetness stimulating beneath you, sensing just how drenched your inner thighs feel. Intertwining your fingers with Aemond's, releasing his firm grip from your thighs, guiding his large hands up over your hips and waist, planting his palms against each breast.
"Miss these, baby? Cause they've missed you... M-Maybe if you f-fill me up, these can get f-fuller, huh? D-Does that s-sound good?"
Earning another deep, muffled "hmm", his calloused, large hands kneading at your breasts, squeezing at the tender flesh in the cup of his palm. A teasing thumb, flicking at your perky nipple, earning a rapid moan. Sensually feeling you up, his precise movements and gestures receptive to your body: as though he had never left, not a day behind. Your mindless body now succumbed to his every move, a stirring feeling in the pit of your stomach desperate for more, it seemed as though Aemond could read your very mind subconsciously.
Nudging you to move down, released from your trance, his breathing heavy yet gradually began to compose itself. A slick, clear film saturated his reddened lips and mouth, although wasting no precious he lapped that up too, savouring your taste.
"Ask and you shall receive, my spoilt, little princess... Lay down."
Despite Aemond having done most of the work, drowning in his prized possession, the sensitive spot between your legs felt achingly weak though desperate to have more of its fill.
"Now let's see if my angel can still handle this cock, huh? You cannot even begin to fathom, ugh—"
Towering build over you, as he adjusted his position over you, you felt meek and feeble against him, yet wanted nothing more than for him to devour you whole.
"Just how fucking much, I've been waiting for this precise moment... To feel your walls swallow my cock, huh? Fill you so full and good of my seed."
His long cock had grown stiff since the moment you'd removed the last single piece of cloth, torn from your body. Feeling his tense, sprung member against every crevice and naked surface of your body was painstakingly feverish: like some taboo toy you had been separated from, eager to play with once again. Its veiny, blush tip tauntingly traced lightly at your entrance, etching deeper and deeper with each breathless word spoken, and every moan whimpered, until his mass was completely plunged into your velvety vanity.
"Seven Hells— Forgotten just how tight you were, baby. I can feel you clenching, missed me that terribly, hmm? Poor thing... Must've been going crazy without me."
"Y-Yes, A-Aem— Y-You have no idea."
Aemond was more often precise and cautious when it came to sex: his movements and pace often calculated and deliberate although a different side completely showed itself now. You had to give him praise. It had been far too long, especially for newlyweds since you had both been last intimate. He was desperate for you, just as much as you had. He had grown impatient now, yearning to be with you, to be inside of you: keen to take his please with you in this very moment, for who knows when he could be next called upon and needed, only to disappear once again.
"That's my good, good girl... Always doing so well for me, having waited so long for me. Deserving of all my special treatment—"
His harsh thrusts were formidable enough to sway you as you lay still. Aemond gripped tightly at your wrists, keeping you and himself steady. His breathing once again resumed a faster, more grunted pace, as his thrusts grew careless. Only having the one goal to fuck you senselessly full of him.
"Mayhaps I'll fuck a babe into you, princess... Does that sound good? Leave a part of me inside of you to grow and to hold."
"Ughh— Yes, Aemond. Fuck me full. F-Fuck me till I s-swell, b-baby."
"Your commands, princess," A breathless grunt uttered after each word bespoken. His once straightened, neat loose strands, now a mottled, sweaty mess of platinum locked, strangling against your fingers, as you keenly relished in pulling and tugging at.
Whenever he was close enough, your lips suckled onto his fair, pale skin of his chest and neck, leaving remnant, red marks shaped vaguely of your plump lips. The fury of the pain from between your inner thighs was undeniable, for it had been so long since you laid with your husband. Your walls at first foreign to the excruciating stretch, as his long, rigid cock plummeted and burrowed its way into your cervix.
The long-awaited high was surreal, Aemond taking his pleasure in shooting his warm, fresh load deep into you, as you felt your unison wetness coating him. The mess seeping through the gaps. He remained nestled inside until he felt sated that you had taken his seed.
Embraced in each other's loving arms, the beauty in the intimacy with Aemond was that it never ceased with the sex. He often took pride and initiative in taking care of you even after, an old habit that seemed he did not forget so easily...
"I'll have the maid prepare a warm bath my dearest, in the meantime you stay in bed."
Hastily wiping the sweat off, dressing himself once more, only managing to don his trousers, he seated himself down beside you again.
"You mustn't feel haste to care for me, Aem. You were the one that went to war... You must rest now."
His longer fingers reached out, soothingly brushing aside the loose strands of hair, away from your beaming face. Instinctively, a warm smile radiating from his face, as he seized your presence.
"I shall rest when you are safe. It is my duty as your husband to protect you, and as your lover, to love you. Those vows I spoke many moons ago, I have not yet forgotten, nor will I. Everything I do, I do for us... I love you."
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general taglist - @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1
Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog
credit for divider - @/pommecita
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apoemaday · 3 months
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Eurydice
by Carol Ann Duffy
Girls, I was dead and down in the Underworld, a shade, a shadow of my former self, nowhen. It was a place where language stopped, a black full stop, a black hole Where the words had to come to an end. And end they did there, last words, famous or not. It suited me down to the ground.
So imagine me there, unavailable, out of this world, then picture my face in that place of Eternal Repose, in the one place you’d think a girl would be safe from the kind of a man who follows her round writing poems, hovers about while she reads them, calls her His Muse, and once sulked for a night and a day because she remarked on his weakness for abstract nouns. Just picture my face when I heard -- Ye Gods -- a familiar knock-knock at Death’s door.
Him. Big O. Larger than life. With his lyre and a poem to pitch, with me as the prize.
Things were different back then. For the men, verse-wise, Big O was the boy. Legendary. The blurb on the back of his books claimed that animals, aardvark to zebra, flocked to his side when he sang, fish leapt in their shoals at the sound of his voice, even the mute, sullen stones at his feet wept wee, silver tears.
Bollocks. (I’d done all the typing myself, I should know.) And given my time all over again, rest assured that I’d rather speak for myself than be Dearest, Beloved, Dark Lady, White Goddess etc., etc.
In fact girls, I’d rather be dead.
But the Gods are like publishers, usually male, and what you doubtless know of my tale is the deal.
Orpheus strutted his stuff.
The bloodless ghosts were in tears. Sisyphus sat on his rock for the first time in years. Tantalus was permitted a couple of beers. The woman in question could scarcely believe her ears.
Like it or not, I must follow him back to our life -- Eurydice, Orpheus’ wife -- to be trapped in his images, metaphors, similes, octaves and sextets, quatrains and couplets, elegies, limericks, villanelles, histories, myths…
He’d been told that he mustn’t look back or turn round, but walk steadily upwards, myself right behind him, out of the Underworld into the upper air that for me was the past. He’d been warned that one look would lose me for ever and ever.
So we walked, we walked. Nobody talked.
Girls, forget what you’ve read. It happened like this -- I did everything in my power to make him look back. What did I have to do, I said, to make him see we were through? I was dead. Deceased. I was Resting in Peace. Passé. Late. Past my sell-by date… I stretched out my hand to touch him once on the back of the neck. Please let me stay. But already the light had saddened from purple to grey.
It was an uphill schlep from death to life and with every step I willed him to turn. I was thinking of filching the poem out of his cloak, when inspiration finally struck. I stopped, thrilled. He was a yard in front. My voice shook when I spoke -- Orpheus, your poem’s a masterpiece. I’d love to hear it again…
He was smiling modestly, when he turned, when he turned and he looked at me.
What else? I noticed he hadn’t shaved. I waved once and was gone.
The dead are so talented. The living walk by the edge of a vast lake near, the wise, drowned silence of the dead.
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aphroditelovesu · 2 months
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I'm sorry I sent the ask before I could finish it for the Baldwin IV love letter could it pls be a romantic one to his betrothed/wife-to-be☺️ thank you so much💗
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Dearest (Y/N),
I write these words with my heart overflowing with emotion and gratitude for having found someone as special as you to share my life with. From the moment our eyes met, I knew I had found my other half, the one who would bring light to my dark days.
Despite the adversities that life has presented me with, you have brought hope and joy to my kingdom and my heart. Your beauty goes far beyond what the eyes can see; it is your kindness, courage and compassion that truly captivated me.
As king, I carry on my shoulders the weight of responsibilities and duties towards my people, but at your side, I find comfort and inspiration to face any challenge that life presents to us. Your presence fills my days with joy and renews my hope for the future.
Even facing the leprosy that ravages my body, I feel complete by your side. I know our journey together will not be easy, but with you by my side, I am confident that we will overcome whatever challenges life has in store for us. I feel blessed to have you as my future wife as you are the embodiment of grace, intelligence and beauty. Every moment by your side is a gift that I hold dearly in my heart, looking forward to the day when I can call you My Queen.
May our union be blessed by the God and may we build a future filled with love, respect and complicity. I promise to love and protect you with all the strength of my being, because you are my greatest treasure, my queen, my companion for all eternity.
I will eagerly await the day when our hands join in marriage, sealing our destiny and ushering in a new era of love and harmony in our kingdom. Until then, I will continue to write you letters and waiting for yours.
With all my love,
Baldwin.
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Text
Nightmares
The start of my Astarion rabbithole begins here...
Summary: You can't sleep without Astarion. Even still, nightmares continue to haunt you but Astarion vows to do all he can to ease your pain.
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“Yes darling?” Astarion asks the moment he feels your face collide with his back, lifting his gaze from his book. Your arms wrap around his waist, pressing his body against yours and Astarion will never tell you how much he loves that feeling. No matter what you bribe him with.
You incoherently mumble something in return, burying your face into the back of his shirt.
“I can’t quite make out what you just said, dearest. You’ll have to speak up a bit more,” he bites back a laugh at how you give an angry grumble in response and closes the book, gently prying you off him.
Turning around to face you, he presses a kiss to the top of your head before tilting your chin up so that he can press another kiss to your lips, his cold slender fingers gliding over your warm skin. The tip of his index finger traces along your jawline as he hungrily kisses you deeper, his other hand tangled in your hair.
You kiss him back with equal fervour, eyes closed. His fangs graze your bottom lip, drawing a hint of blood which he immediately licks up, letting out a soft moan at the sweetness that floods his tongue.
“You still have not told me what it is you desire, my sweet,” he nuzzles into your hair, arms wrapped tightly around you. His book lies on the ground long forgotten, all that he can think about is how nice you feel in his embrace, as though you were made for it.
“Cuddle,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes. “Can’t sleep without you.”
“You miss me that much, dearest?” He teases. “Come along then, you need your sleep.” He pretends as though your words haven’t set his ears on fire, that the sudden rush of warmth in his chest wasn’t caused by your proclamation of how much you wanted his presence and gently guides you back to your tent, barely remembering to pick his book up.
Once he’s tucked you into your bedroll, pushing hair out of your face before you start sneezing from the tickles, he removes his tunic and gets comfortable by your side. The moment he lies down, you snuggle up to him, burying your face in his chest. Your body curls up, fitting against his like a puzzle piece.
“Good night, Astarion,” you murmur drowsily.
“Good night, my sweet,” he runs his fingers through your hair, the motion lulling you to sleep like it always does. He relishes in the way your hair smoothly parts for his fingers, the softness of the strands brushing against his skin. Ever since he introduced his hair routine to you, your hair condition had been improving and he was pleased with how much you loved to show it off to him.
It doesn’t take long for you to drift off, lips parting slightly as your chest gently rises and falls with each breath. Astarion enjoys this part of your nightly cuddles the most, it reminds him of why he fights so hard each and every day. If he had to withstand the exhausting hikes, fights and idiocy of the rest of the party just to see the small smile of contentment on your face when you slept, he would do it for an eternity without hesitation. All that mattered to him was that you were happy, safe. Free.
He gently hums a tune he remembers you humming before, resisting the urge to kiss you over and over again, knowing that it would wake you up. His fingers dance along your back, tracing the scars that mar it. He’s long memorised each and every single one of them, whether it be from the passionate nightly activities or simply cuddling, just like tonight. Even though you find them disgusting, he finds them beautiful. They are signs of what has failed to kill you, of what you’ve pulled through. They told those who saw that that you were strong, that you were a survivor.
He finds himself tracing over the thin scar lines along your arm that wrap around like vines. You’ve never told them where you got them from, each time he tries to breach the topic you shy away, changing the subject with a laugh. He knows glimpses of your past from the nights the two of you have sat together under the moonlight, talking about whatever came to mind at the moment, but he never quite got the full picture. You purposely avoided talking about certain things and he never once probed further out of respect for your privacy, but moments like this make him wonder what someone as cheerful and bright as you had been through to become a completely different person when such topics were discussed.
Still, he won’t push you further than you’re comfortable with. You’ve never done it to him, even if it clearly frustrated you how little he was willing to divulge and he respected you for that. You would tell him about the scars on your arm when you were comfortable with it, he knew, and he could wait. He was a vampire spawn, he had the time to wait.
You shift in your sleep, eyebrows furrowed and fingernails digging into the bedroll beneath. A nightmare .
Astarion gently rubs your back, whispering sweet assurances into your ear and pressing his forehead against yours, hoping it will calm you down. The whimper that escapes your lips breaks his undead heart and he wishes he could enter dreams, just so that he could fight off whatever nightmare was plaguing you tonight.
“It’s alright, love. It’s just a nightmare,” he whispers, despising how powerless he is. “I’m always right here, right by your side.”
“Star,” you whimper, eyes cracking open. “Help. Hurts.”
He desperately presses more kisses to the top of your head, holding you tightly. “I’m right here, I’m right here.”
He repeats the three words over and over again like a mantra, cradling you as you cry into his chest, sobs wracking your body. His hand rests on the back of your head, his body curled around yours to shield you from the world.
“Let it all out. No one else is here,” he murmurs. You cry even harder at his words, gasping between each sob until you have no tears left to give. He ignores how your fingernails have dug into his shoulders so much that you’ve drawn blood, far more concerned about how you are feeling.
“I’m sorry,” the words feel thick in your throat. You wipe your eyes, looking up at him with such pain in your eyes and sniffle.
“Don’t be, love. We all need a little space to cry.” He presses his lips to your warm, tear-stained skin, willing all your pain away.
Wrapped in his comforting embrace, you slowly drift back to sleep with the feeling of his hand rubbing circles on your back. Once he’s sure you’ve properly fallen asleep, he lets himself slip into a meditative half-trance, but always keeps an ear out for you just in case. He won’t ever leave you to face your demons alone. You’d do the same for him anyways, he’s just repaying the favour, right?
You reach out towards him in your slumber, throwing an arm around him so that you can pull him closer. Your breath tickles his skin and something within his chest squeezes, taking his breath away.
I love you, his lips form the words but no sound comes out. Watching your now peacefully slumbering form, his undead heart comes back to life but words still fail him. For now, he’ll resign himself to practising the words so that when the moment comes, he will be able to say them, and know you will say them back.
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