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#this game has had such a grip on me ever since i played it its so fun DGHFJF
emo-trash88 · 1 day
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Hello! Its me again, i LOVED your Tyler and Aiden one and i'm back with one more. So think about it, Tyler knows baseball right? So why dont he use his bat skills? (is that what its called?) To beat the shit out of phantoms when they first go to the phantom dimension? Maybe something like thr reader gets pulled by a phantom and tyler crashed the phantoms head with his bat?
I love this! Fr this, like man, put yourself to use for once 😭 I'm putting this at like the first-ish part when they all get attacked on the bus.
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Home Run
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Tyler x Reader
Pronouns: Second person
Word count: 491
Tw: Uhhh bashing in heads??? also blood.
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So this wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending your nights with your boyfriend. Usually you would've expected sitting with him in his bedroom watching some stupid cringy movie or you forcing him to play a random game you found the night before. On the other hand, you haven't really had a night like that with him since Savannah, so what did you honestly expect?
Well regardless of how you feel about being unable to live your best life, you don't have a choice. You lay in your bed, waiting for it to finally hit midnight, like it has every other night. As you lay there you feel your mind wandering, and eventually you start thinking about where you all were last night. The bus graveyard, you were all running. But before you can finish the thought, you black out.
Almost as soon as you open your eyes, you hear Ashlyn whisper "Duck" and you, along with the others, crouch down almost in unison. As you all get down everyone starts brainstorming how to get out of this situation, how to get away from the lurking phantom. You sit there silently, almost in a trance, anxiety coursing through your veins.
After about a minute of debating, Ashlyn perks up and her eyes widen slightly, a sight you've gotten used to. She hushes everyone and after a second says "Hide under the seats.". You along with everyone else start army crawling under the seats, peering out periodically to see if the phantom is nearby.
As you try your best to stay still, you hear a semi loud creak. A creak thats too loud to be safe. You cover your mouth with your hand, your breath becoming more frantic with each passing second. You turn to look behind you and before you can do anything, the phantom grabs you by the ankle, pain searing up your leg as you let out a scream.
"(Name)!" You hear yelled, too freaked to be able to figure out whose voice it was. You grab onto a seat above you and start trying to pull yourself up while (attempting to) kick the phantom away. You let out pained grunts as the phantom digs deeper into your ankle, managing to weaken your grip on the seat above you.
You almost give up, the pain becoming almost unbearable for you, but before you let go, you hear a crunch. A loud disgusting crunch. And almost immediately afterwards, the phantom lets go, letting you pull yourself up.
You push yourself out into the aisle, seeing Tyler panting with a broken wooden bat and the phantom laying limp on the ground. You look at Tyler, tears in your eyes either from fear or pain. "Ben! (name) needs help!" Tyler shouts, running to you and pulling you into his arms.
This is when you're finally able to look down, and all you see is blood staining your pants, shoes and socks. It's slowly dripping onto the floor of the bus like a melted ice pop. As you stare at it, almost everything stops. You know Tyler is trying to talk to you to make sure you're okay (you're very obviously not) and you can see Ben tending to your wound with everyone else either staring at you or the dead phantom. But none of it feels real.
After a couple minutes Ben finishes wrapping your wound and Tyler pulls you closer to him (if that was even possible). "Please don't ever do that again" he says softly and he genuinely sounds worried. You nod in agreement and for just a moment, this feels a little better than a cringy movie night.
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Omg I'm so sleep deprived, but I hope this turned out good :)
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u3pxx · 9 months
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listen to me , PLAY POTIONOMICS
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peaktora · 2 months
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𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 ˚◞♡ ⃗ satoru gojo
𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ your husband is unbearably clingy.
𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. no pronouns used or specified gender for the reader. intended lowercase. established relationship (#married).
a/n. — i’m warning u guys right now that this is not proofread 😭 .. i literally just typed this up rq and posted it bc it’s been too long since i’ve last posted something on here
p.s. the prompt was in my notes from a longgg time ago, but i believe it’s from @/creativepromptsforwriting .. if not please lmk !!
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"c'mere, hold my hand," satoru pleads for what has to be the third time. he pouts at you, who’s sitting on the countertop.
your brows furrow as you look up from your phone, "but, you're washing the dishes?”
he twists the faucet handle, and a steady stream of water flows down. after a brief glance at you, he places the plate beneath the water and says, "i know how to multitask, baby."
clinginess is defined as “the tendency to stay near someone for emotional support, protection, ect.” but there has to be another term for what satoru is, because you can't give any of those things while holding his hand right now.
you let out a deep breath and turn off your phone, watching as the screen fades to black. "satoru, there's no way i'm sticking my hand in that dirty dishwater," you say, sliding your phone into your pocket.
he practically shoves the plate into the drying rack. "i can't believe this," he huffs. "we literally had vows."
“what are y—“
“we had vows that said you’d love me in sickness and in health.”
"well…are you sick?" you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.
he pauses his task of washing dishes, leaving them untouched. leaning over the sink, he rests his arms against its edge. he steals a furtive glance at you, only to find your gaze locked onto him. with a hint of hesitation, he softly mumbles, "no..." before you can respond, he interrupts, "but i’m in health, and the vows said that you have to love and cherish me in this state too."
you lean back, searching your mind for what the alternative of holding his hand would be. because in no world would you hold his hand in dishwasher. then, it hits you. "for now, would a hug make you feel better?"
he answers your question with a hum, and you can't believe he's debating whether or not to accept your offer after all that drama over holding hands in dishwater. even so, he adds, "i'll have to give it some thought."
two can play that game.
“it’s okay,” you say, gracefully hopping down from the counter. a smirk spreads across your face. “i could just go—sit on the couch?” slowly, you start to walk in his direction and make your way over to the living room.
he doesn’t say anything, letting you do as you please. it’s not until you start to pass by him, that you get the reaction you wanted.
or atleast, somewhat similar to what you wanted.
"on second thought—" he exclaims, and the dishwater swirls around him as he turns around, his hands still wet and dripping.
you cringe as small puddles gather on the tiles. "hey—" but he interrupts you as he reaches out to grab your wrist. “ew—I—what the hell?”
you instinctively try to pull back, but he slips his wet hand in yours; sealing your fate.
“satoru—”
“what happened to nicknames?”
“satoru.”
"’m not sure who that is. i go by a lot of names, but not that one. lets go down the list, yeah?” he clears his throat. “i go by "babe, baby, swe—"
"you should consider adding "gojo" to that list."
"now, when have you ever called me gojo?”
"right now, in exactly ten seconds.” your husband gasps, hanging his mouth open. “satoru go—"
“woah woah woah—what’d i do to deserve this treatment?”
“you put your dirty dishwater hand in mine.” you jerk your hand back, struggling to escape free of his grip.
his grip tightens on your hand, “if you’re feeling like not loving me today then just say that.”
“hey—don’t discredit me. i offered you a hug and you said you had to “think” about it.”
“cause holding your hand ‘s better.”
you sigh, “after you’re done with the dishes, you can hold my hand as long as you want.“
he lets out a soft, thoughtful hum—the same hum that got you both into this situation in the first place. at the same time you shake your head, a mischievous twinkle appears in his eyes, and a smile twists onto the edges of his lips. "deal" he says, shaking your hand. “but before-“
you tsk, making him drop his excuse.
“wh—“
"the quicker these dishes get done, the quicker you’ll be able to hold my hand. so get on with it—go," you playfully command, and his grip loosens in response. seizing the opportunity, you slide your hand out of his grasp. you look down at it, seeing bits of food that’ve stuck to your palm. gross.
you walk over to the sink, feeling the cool water flow over your hand, washing away the food and dirt that clung to your skin. as you stand there, you hear satoru's voice grumbling from behind, "i hate doing dishes,” and you can’t help but snort.
before you know it, you feel his presence close behind you, his body pressing against yours. his arms encircle you, creating a cozy pocket of space between the counter and his body. satoru leans over your shoulder, gets a sponge from the soapy water, and starts washing a bowl. you simply lean back and look at his features.
the sight almost makes you want to stay in his arms forever. that is, until you realize the predicament you're in.
“you did not,” you whine. you desperately try to break free from the cage he’s trapped you in, but your attempts prove more and more pointless.
"oh, yes, i did," he declares with a smile. “what did you say earlier?" he clears his throat before proceeding. "the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you'll be able to hold my hand," he says, mockingly imitating your tone. "so, the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you can leave and do anything you want."
you sulk and moan while you reluctantly grab a dish and a spare sponge from the sink. “i hate you.”
“i love you more.”
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bingwriterxo · 9 months
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the chase
pairing: vada cavell x reader
summary: in which you and vada play a game of cat and mouse
warnings: none
word count: 4100+
author's note: does this make any sense? great question!
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The moment Vada slipped into the passenger’s seat of Nick’s car, words were flying out of his mouth faster than she could comprehend, which was saying a lot considering how often she’d find herself rambling about the most random of things.
“Where were you yesterday?” he started as he shifted the car into drive, beginning their short ride to school. “I called you seven times, and you didn’t answer once. It was Sunday, and you do nothing on Sundays! I was beginning to think you were dead until I texted your mom and--”
Vada shook her head. “Wait, slow down. Back up. You text my mom? When did you get her number?”
He waved her off. “Not important. What is important is you telling me what you were doing yesterday.” He rolled past a stop sign, barely even glancing in its direction as he drove past. “I mean, seven calls, V, and you answered not a single one! So, what were you doing?”
She grinned, giggling in her seat at what she was about to reveal. “I had a date!”
Almost immediately, Nick whipped his head to look at her, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. “With who?!” he practically shouted.
Vada reached out, took his chin between her forefinger and thumb, and turned his head back in the direction of the windshield. “Eyes on the road, stupid. I’m not trying to die today.”
His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Vada, if you don’t tell me who you went on a date with in the next five seconds, I’ll purposely drive us into oncoming traffic.”
“You’re so dramatic,” she teased with a roll of her eyes. He glared at her quickly before focusing on the road again. She bit her lip, trying to quell the excitement raging in her stomach as she said, “It was with Y/N.”
The car skidded to a stop and Vada was jolted forward, her seatbelt pressing tight against her body.
“Dude, what the fuck--” she began, but she was silenced as Nick twisted in his seat, his eyes hard as they set on her and his frown so defined that it made her uncomfortable.
“What,” he deadpanned.
She rubbed at her chest, right where the seat belt had dug into her. “What?” she asked, confused.
“You went on a date with…Y/N? Popular Y/N? Like, most-popular-girl-in-school Y/N?”
Vada tilted her head. “Uh, yeah?”
“Why the fu--” Nick was interrupted by a car honking at him. He threw his arm up in annoyance before starting to drive again, and Vada gulped as he stewed in his seat. “I can’t believe you went on a date with Y/N!”
“Why are you saying it like that?” Vada asked. She shifted, disliking the tension that was starting to fill the air. “You make it sound like a bad thing. I thought you’d be excited! I finally went on my first date with a girl! You’ve been waiting for this moment since the second I came out to you.”
“First of all, I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second I met you, because, baby, the closet is glass.” He took a hard right. The school loomed up ahead. “Secondly, I wanted you to go on a date with basically anyone other than Y/N.”
Vada furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m not that obviously bisexual.” Silence filled the car and she huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine, maybe I am. But why is going out with Y/N such a bad thing? She’s funny and cute and really smart. Basically, she’s perfect.”
“She’s not perfect, V,” Nick said, sitting up a little straighter as he pulled into the parking lot. “Haven’t you ever noticed that she’s got a new girl hanging off of her every month?” Vada’s stomach dropped, a sudden sense of anxiety flooding through her veins. “I mean, she goes through girls like you go through sugar.”
“No she doesn’t,” Vada tried, but her denial fell on deaf ears.
“She’s the biggest player this school has,” Nick said, leaning forward as he tried to pull into his designated parking spot. “She’s probably the biggest player in the damn county. She chases after a girl, stays with her for a few weeks, gets bored, and then does it all over again.” He turned to her as he shifted the gear into park. “Vada, she’s worse than John Tucker.”
“Are you seriously referencing a movie right now?” She scoffed and unbuckled her seatbelt. “She’s not like that.”
“Fine,” Nick conceded. “But when you get hurt, don’t say I didn’t warn you. She’s just in it for the chase.”
Vada clambered out of the car and pulled her backpack onto her shoulder. “And when we live happily ever after,” she started as she and Nick started to walk into the school, “I’ll say ‘I told you so’.”
He glanced at her before looking forward, his eyes widening. “...I’m not so sure about that one, V.”
She frowned and followed Nick’s line of sight, a sharp pain shooting through her at what she saw. You had your back pressed against your locker, trapped there by Stacey from Vada’s history class, who had her hand flat against the metal and was leaning close to you. Stacey was batting her eyelashes and giggling, and you were smiling along.
“Oh,” Vada said, voice quiet and small. She tore her eyes away and blinked hard, looking back up at Nick. “Well, I guess you were right.”
He offered her a pitiful smile. “I’m sorry, V. But, you should be glad you won’t be another girl stuck in her revolving door of girls.”
“Yeah,” she said, voice low and filled with sorrow. “So happy.”
Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leading her toward his own locker. “Don’t be so sad. It’s for the best.”
Vada glanced away. “I just don’t get it. I mean, if she’s in it for the chase, then why is she flirting with another girl? Was I not good enough to chase?” She frowned. “Am I just too boring? Or do I talk too much?” She looked up at Nick. “Nick, be honest with me, do I talk too much? Could that turn someone off?”
“Yes,” he said simply, nodding his head. Vada huffed. He pulled away as the two reached his locker and focused on putting his combination into the lock. “Don’t think too far into it, though. I don’t think you wanna go through the pain of it anyway.” He shrugged and then hit the metal door when it wouldn’t open. “Stupid, old locker.” He glanced at her. “You’d just end up getting your heart broken.”
Vada sighed and leaned against the locker beside Nick’s, her shoulder pressing against the cool metal. “That’s dumb. And unfair. And not very nice.”
Nick’s locker door finally popped open. “Just ignore her from now on, okay?” He glanced at her and started to put his books into his locker. “Don’t talk to her, don’t text her, don’t even think about her. ‘Y/N Y/L/N who?’ That’s how you should be acting.”
She nodded hesitantly. “Okay. I guess I can do that.”
“Good.” He slammed the door shut. “Now let’s go to class.”
* * *
The first few periods rolled by smoothly. Vada had no classes with you until after lunch, and she didn’t even get a glimpse of you in the hallways. While part of her was still disheartened by your act, she also agreed with Nick’s words: it was probably for the best that she didn’t get tangled up with you.
That is, until she asked to use the bathroom during her science class, and upon walking inside, found you standing by the sinks, fixing your hair in the mirror. Almost immediately, your eyes landed on her figure through the reflection and you grinned, showing all your pearly-white teeth, before turning around to face her. Vada’s breath was practically sucked from her lungs as she stared at you.
“Vada! Hey!” you greeted, voice happy and excited.
It made Vada uncomfortable, how easily you were able to put on that mask. Nick’s voice rang in her head: Don’t talk to her. She bounced on the balls of her feet before promptly making the decision to hide in one of the stalls, slipping away from your field of vision without a word.
“Oh…kay…” she heard you say. There was the shuffling of your feet before she could see your shoes beneath the stall door. “Text me, okay? I had fun yesterday.” You turned and Vada listened as your footsteps receded.
When she knew she was finally alone, she let out the breath she had been holding and leaned forward, her forehead bumping against the metal of the stall.
“C’mon, Vada, get it together,” she mumbled. “She’s a player. She doesn’t want anything from you.” She clamped her eyes shut and shook her head. “She doesn’t want you.”
That was the mantra that repeated in her head for the entire day. It was what she heard when she saw you during lunch, waving at her from across the cafeteria. She reminded herself of it when you sat down beside her during English class and tried to make conversation, to which she entirely ignored you--it did hurt her heart a little when she saw your wide eyes and jutted out bottom lip when you realized she wouldn’t talk to you, but she tried to ignore that, too.
It all came to a head at the end of the day, when Vada was trying to pile as many of her books as she possibly could into her backpack. She was almost done when you sidled up beside her, a gleaming smile on your face and your hands tucked sheepishly in the back pockets of your jeans.
“Hey,” you said softly, like Vada was a scared animal that would run away.
She swallowed, half of her so desperately wanting to talk to you and ask why you would ask her out just to play with her, while the other half of her was set in her stubborn way of not speaking a word to you. The latter half won as she shut her locker door and walked away, but she couldn’t shake you.
You followed beside her, looking down at her as you walked. “I don’t know what happened between yesterday and today, or if you’re just having an off day or something, but I really did have fun on our date, and I’d like to take you on another one.”
She glanced up at you, unable to stop the quickening of her pulse. What if you were telling the truth? She shook her head, Nick’s words in her ear: Don’t even think about her.
Vada managed to lose you in the crowd of students all trying to exit the school at once, but she still heard your voice call over the sound of everyone else.
“I’ll text you then!”
Something about your determination made her want to melt right into your arms, but she stood up a little straighter and continued walking. You didn’t actually want her, she reminded herself. You just liked the chase.
* * *
After a night full of text messages from you that Vada never answered, she sauntered into school the next day with Nick by her side, completely set on avoiding you as much as she could. Unfortunately for both her and Nick, it seemed like you wanted to make that impossible.
The minute she passed through the front doors, you were walking beside her, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Vada glanced at them quickly, feeling butterflies stir in her stomach at the sight, but Nick slapped her on the hand, forcing her to keep her stoic face as she picked up the pace and tried to walk away.
“What, do you not like roses?” you asked, just a step behind the pair. You sounded dejected, defeated--some part of Vada felt bad; the other part thought ‘good. she should feel bad’. After a moment of silence from you, she heard the smallest, “Well, okay,” and when she looked over her shoulder, you were gone, the roses sticking out of the top of the nearest trash can. It was a depressing sight to see.
She sighed. “I feel kind of bad, Nick,” she admitted, and the boy shook his head.
“Don’t,” he said firmly. “She deserves to be humbled for once.” He scoffed. “She can’t just have anyone she wants and then throw them away when she gets bored because she’s pretty and popular. And she most certainly can’t do that to you.”
“But, yesterday she said that she had fun on our date and wants to go on another one. What if she was telling the truth? What if she actually likes me?”
Nick shook his head again. “It’s all part of her sick game. She wants you to fall for her, and then she’ll pull the rug right out from under you.” He patted Vada on the shoulder. “Trust me; she’s bad news.”
Vada glanced back over her shoulder again, and this time she found you in the same position as the day before--leaning back against your locker with Stacey standing in front of you, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.
Your eyes flitted toward her for a split second, wide and forlorn, before they were focusing on Stacey again. You broke out into a grin, throwing your head back as you laughed.
“Right,” Vada grumbled, an ache forming in her chest and radiating throughout the rest of her body. “Bad news.”
* * *
The ‘bad news’ didn’t seem so bad anymore when, in the middle of English class, Vada was tapped on the shoulder by the boy behind her. When she twisted around to see what he wanted, he unceremoniously shoved a folded piece of paper in her direction, a scowl on his face as he waited for her to take it.
With furrowed eyebrows and a frown, Vada grabbed the paper and turned back in her seat, glancing up at her teacher to make sure he wasn’t watching as she unfolded the sheet.
Vada,
Thought I might try the old-fashioned way. Are you free on Friday night? The drive-in is showing The Princess Diaries, and I remember you saying you had a crush on Anne Hathaway. Wanna go together?
Y/N :)
Vada glanced toward the back of the room, where you had found yourself sitting that day, and saw you already looking at her, hope painting your face prettily. She cursed herself internally at the butterflies in her stomach as she looked back at the note you had sent forward. It was cute--she’d give you that--and she was tempted to say yes, but the image of Stacey flirting with you flitted through her mind, and that was enough for her to crumple the paper in her hand.
She didn’t look back at you.
* * *
The rest of the day passed without incident: you didn’t try to speak to her in the halls, and by the time she went to sleep, Vada hadn’t received a single text from you. Just before she drifted off for the night, she briefly thought that you had given up--perhaps you had grown so used to girls falling into your lap that chasing Vada was just too much energy that you didn’t want to use.
She was proven wrong when she woke up to a voicemail from you in the morning. You had called her late at night--the timestamp reading nearly three o’clock--and when Vada played the message aloud, your voice filling her room, shame bloomed in her stomach.
“Hey,” you started, your voice quiet and scratchy. “It’s me. Or, it’s Y/N. I--I don’t know if you’ve deleted my number or something. I just…Look, I know it hasn’t been long since our date, but…” You sighed, and Vada could hear the faintest sound of a sniffle. “The cold shoulder from you doesn’t feel great. I just wanna know where we stand. I had fun on Sunday. Uh, it’s okay if you didn’t. I just wish you would tell me.” You sniffled again. “I guess if you don’t answer this, that’s my answer. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you in school.”
Vada threw herself back into her pillows with a sigh. She ran a hand down her face, groaning. “Fuck,” she mumbled. “Fuck.” You sounded so sincere in the voicemail, but what if that were just another one of your ploys? What if you did this with every girl? What if—
“Bitch, why the fuck are you still in bed?” Nick asked as he burst into Vada’s bedroom.
She groaned again, throwing her legs up and down like a small toddler not getting their way. Her heart was pulling toward you, but her brain was trying to run away from you as fast as possible. She was torn, and she had no idea what to do.
Luckily for her, she was given more time to think than she had expected. You were absent that day, your missing presence a large hole in her day. There was no one to offer her flowers, or to try to pass her notes during class, or to wave at her in the cafeteria. As much as she hated admitting it to herself, she still liked you, and the lack of you carved a deep pit into her stomach.
That night, when there was still no sign of you--no texts or calls or even posts on any social media--she fell asleep with worry itching beneath her veins and guilt pricking at her chest.
The next morning wasn’t any better. Anxiety sat heavy like a rock in Vada’s stomach as she got ready, while Nick sang some random song in the car, when she walked through the parking lot and into school.
Her eyes immediately flitted toward your locker, a mixture of relief and sorrow surging through her at the sight of you standing there, alone, but with your head hung and your eyes trained on your feet. You were in sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. It was all completely unlike you.
“Nick,” she called, getting the boy’s attention. She subtly pointed at you. “Do you think she’s okay?”
He scoffed. “I’m sure her outfit just didn’t look as good in real life as it did in her head. What else does she have to worry about?”
Vada shrugged, her eyes still locked on you. You didn’t look up once.
* * *
It was at night that Vada’s worry had turned into all-out panic. Throughout the school day, you had avoided her like the plague, making sure to never interact with her. At one point, you had locked eyes with her down the hall and then swiftly spun on your heel and walked back in the direction you came from.
That, combined with getting absolutely no notifications from you, led her to a terribly easy decision as she stood from her bed, grabbed a hoodie, and lied to her mom that she was going to Nick’s house. She slipped out the front door, her pace quick as she rushed the few blocks to your house.
When she arrived, it was almost completely dark, save for the fluorescent light coming from your living room, where Vada had found herself just days before after you had taken her out to dinner.
With a hesitant hand, she knocked on your front door. It took only a few seconds before you appeared, looking completely unsurprised to see her.
“Vada,” you said softly, and she was immediately surrounded by the scent of alcohol on your breath. “What’re you doing here?”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you…drunk? On a Thursday night?”
You shrugged. “So what if I am? What’re you doing here?” you repeated.
Pushing aside her concerns about your drinking habits, she asked, “Why did you stop?”
“Stop what?”
“Chasing me,” she said, like you should’ve known.
You forced out a dry laugh, tilting your head to the side. “You know, you’re a confusing girl.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you completely ignored all of my attempts to talk to you, and now you’re upset that I’ve stopped, even though it seemed like that’s what you wanted.” You narrowed your eyes. “Sounds kind of confusing, don’t you think?”
Vada swallowed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “That’s not fair.”
“Not fair,” you muttered beneath your breath. “Okay. Sure. I was unfair to you.” You leaned back on your heels, your hand gripping the doorknob. “Now, if that’s all, then I’ll see you at school.”
You started to close the door, but something about your indifference made anger rise in Vada. “I just didn’t want to become a girl in your revolving door of girls!” she shouted.
You stilled, your eyes widening before glazing over. “Right. My revolving door of girls. That’s what everyone says, right?” Your voice was hollow, sad. Vada didn’t understand why.
“They say it because it’s true,” she huffed. Your posture fell and you glanced away, clenching your jaw. “You chase, you get, you grow bored.”
“That’s not true.” You looked at her, and faintly, she could see tears glossing your eyes. “That’s not…true. Those girls chase me; they use me; they leave me.” Your volume grew steadily, a sort of rage backing your words. “But since I’m the one factor that stays the same, everyone blames me. And it’s not--” You sighed. “It’s not true.”
You scoffed. “And you know what, I thought you might be the one person that didn’t believe what everyone else said. You seemed real, authentic, like you didn’t really give a shit about the crowd, Vada. That’s why I liked you, why I was trying. I thought you were your own person. But I was wrong. You’re just like the rest of the school.”
With all of the new information thrown at her, confusion and guilt and shame and hurt burning her, the only thing Vada managed to say was, “Oh.”
You nodded, glancing away. “Yeah. ‘Oh’. So, I’ll see you at school.”
When you shut the door, leaving Vada standing alone on your front porch, realization struck her like a tidal wave, and everything from the past few days came crashing down on her.
You didn’t chase. Or, at least, not until her.
“Shit.”
* * *
Vada (11:42pm): need ur help
Vada (11:42pm): 911
Mia (11:43pm): ???
Vada (11:43pm): help me ask Y/N out
Vada (11:43pm): ur her best friend. pls.
Mia (11:45pm): bro u fucked up big time
Mia (11:45pm): shes forgiving and all but…
Vada (11:45pm): mia pls
Mia (11:49pm): fine.
Mia (11:49pm): only b/c i know how much she likes u
Mia (11:49pm): dont fuck up again
Mia (11:50pm): heres what u should do
* * *
You didn’t show up to school again the next day, but it barely registered in Vada’s mind. She had already known beforehand that you wouldn’t be going--Mia had slipped her some ‘secret intel’ that your hangover had you sleeping the day away. Instead, she spent the hours mentally preparing herself, and as soon as the bell rang to signal the end of the day, she set her plan into motion.
At exactly six o’clock at night, Vada was standing at your front door again, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and her (Mia’s) car keys in the other. She knocked on the wood, waited, and when you pulled the door open, her words immediately pushed themselves out of her mouth.
“The drive-in is showing The Princess Diaries tonight, and I know you don’t like Anne Hathaway as much as I do, but I’d like to take you to see it.” She inhaled deeply and continued. “And I’d also like to apologize because I’ve been shitty to you these past few days, and I shouldn’t have listened to the rumors, and I should’ve just talked to you about it all, and I’m really sorry about everything that happened, and I just”--she gasped, her lungs stinging with lack of air, and kept going--“I really do like you, and I did have fun on our initial date, and I’m sorry. Can I take you to the drive-in?”
You blinked once, twice, before you raised a single brow. “What?”
Vada sighed. “The most important thing from all of that is that I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know that can’t just go away, but I’d like the chance to make it up to you, if you’d let me.” She shoved the flowers in your direction. “Want to go see The Princess Diaries?”
You glanced down at the flowers, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, and then took them from her. With the smallest and softest smile that made Vada’s knees buckles, you nodded.
“Okay.” Your face fell. “But on one condition.”
She nodded fervently. “Anything.”
You grinned. “Let’s get milkshakes after and talk.”
bonus: “like, how could you not have a huge crush on anne hathaway?” vada asked, her eyes glued to the big screen.
you hummed. “i’ve got my eye on someone else.”
when she looked at you, ready to argue about anne hathaway’s attractiveness, you were already staring at her, smiling. 
786 notes · View notes
softieekayy · 6 months
Text
In the dark of the Night
Hannibal x vampire!reader
Word count: 5.5k
A/N: the reader is characterized with having a mole under her left/right eye and brown/black hair. (She also comes from greek origins and I sincerely hope I don’t offend anyone.) reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🧸
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Biologically, vampires were impossible. Their immortality and survival on blood didn’t make any sense, in the scientific and medical sense. At least that’s what Hannibal Lecter believed for the majority of his life. Until he stumbled upon one, in the dark of the night where in an alley there stood a creature of the night, blood thirsty, sucking on the neck of a lifeless man.
Hannibal paused, he didn’t know if it was in shock or intrigue, perhaps it was a mix of both. But at this moment, he didn’t care what it was. He was taken so dearly by this bewitching creature. Oftentimes, he wondered what vampires looked like, in his head, they were ugly beings with protruding teeth and rotten grayish flesh from the lack of sun. Not once in his life did Hannibal ever think that they’d be so beautiful. This woman who stood in front of him was bewitching with hair that cascaded beautifully down her back in perfectly done curls and makeup done with perfection and down to the outfit she wore. She was perfection.
“I wonder if I should let you live or die.” The woman in front of Hannibal smirked, snapping him out of his momentarily trace while discarding the corpse as though he was nothing. To her, he was nothing more than a blood bag. Hannibal noticed her fangs, sharp canines that looked nothing out of the normal.
“I believe my death will bring you peace for your secret.” Hannibal responded breathlessly, stil so taken by the beauty in front of him. He watched as she moved fluidly, quick and fast, he observed how the moonlight beamed on her skin making her look ethereal. In a quick moment, she was in front of him, gripping his chin between her fingers as she observed. Hannibal didn’t know why nor did he care why but his breath hitched, not allowing air flow to get to his lungs. He couldn’t breathe but he didn’t care to, if he could die in this moment, he’d die a happy man. Death at the hands of a death Angel.
“I can hear your heart, are you scared?” The woman whispered in his ear, giving a slight lick on the shell of his ear as she huffed out a small laugh.
She pulled back, watching him curiously.
Something about him drew her to him. She didn’t want to kill him. However, her soul was drawn to his, something that she could tell was as old as she was. Older than life itself.
“Do as you please.” Hannibal whispered, closing his eyes, awaiting his death. Upon feeling nothing, Hannibal was confused, he wondered why she didn’t kill him. He opened his eyes, eyes that were the colour of rum and a slight tinge of maroon, eyes that held warmth hurried deep within. The woman in front of him was observing him, similar to a cat observing its prey, her blood stained mouth pulled into a slight frown.
She took one step forward, sauntering like a cat and in a moment, before Hannibal had known what happened, she stood next to his ear, whispering “Find me when you have time, we need to have a long chat.” Before leaving a small kiss on his jaw, leaving behind a red lipstick print, the only thing he’d have to hold on to for a long while.
Time passed quickly and before Hannibal knew, it had been decades since he’d seen the beautiful beast in that dark alley. He was a young boy then but a grown man now and somewhere deep in his soul, he missed her. He didn’t understand why and he won’t for a while, fate has decided to play a cruel game on him. He still remembers the inquisitive look that she held in her eyes and the way the moonlight made her look like an angel from the highest of heavens.
Even as he stood now, in the dark street, his face being lit by the moon, he thought of her.
His eyes were closed and his head tilted up, as if he was long awaiting death. She thought he looked like a fallen angel, craving for the touch of heaven again. Unbeknownst to him, the immortal beauty had been keeping up on him. She watched him grow from a 20 year old boy in medical school to the man he was now. A beautiful man with the appetite for something so dark.
“Hmm, you look as delectable as the night I met you.” She hummed, voicing her thoughts. Hannibal snapped his eyes open, looking towards her direction, bewilderment coating his face. Calling her a young woman would be quite the irony for she was as old as time itself.
She sauntered forward like a fox, her black lace skirt flowing down her legs seamlessly, lips stretching into a foxy smile with fangs protruding onto wine red lips. Even at night she dressed like a beauty and Hannibal could not stop staring at her, his soul wanted her, no, it craved her.
“You’ve developed quite the palette, love. A very interesting one at that.” She told him, leaning against the wall, a respectable distance still between them.
“You told me that we’d talk when I find you, it seems that you’ve found me instead.” Hannibal mused, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“It seems that I did.” She smiled up at Hannibal and he smiled in return. He may not know her in this lifetime, but their souls are well versed, knowing every inch of one another. The two walked forward to each other, two hunters coming together for the hunt of a lifetime.
“I believe we can have that talk now.” She told Hannibal, her lips almost brushing his own as their noses touched. Hannibal hummed in slight agreement.
“I believe that we can do the talking later.” He told her before kissing her, his lips twisting with hers in a passion that cannot be recreated. His hand gripping the back of her neck as her hands gripped Hannibal’s shirt, in an almost desperate manner.
She pulled back, giving Hannibal the chance to catch his breath, she didn’t need to breathe.
“Oh my dearest heart, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” The young woman told him, laughing a little when Hannibal pulled her close to his chest, resting his cheek on her head laughing a bit as well.
“So tell me now, why is it that you never killed me back then.” Hannibal asked her, leading her into his home and looking back at her. Despite the way her beautiful eyes glimmered in the warm light, they held a deep sadness within them.
“I’ve lived a long long life, my love.” She told Hannibal, caressing his cheek as she smiled. Hannibal leaned into her touch, wanting more.
“I’m here to listen to your pain.” He told her, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. Her body wasn’t warm, it hasn’t been for over a thousand years. It was cold, like a dead one.
“I was born in 487, in Ancient Greece, during the Hellenistic period, I was a priestess of the great goddess Artemis, a goddess of the hunt. A young woman who was to spend the rest of her days living in the temple of the goddess. Of course, back then I hadn’t known what life would hold for me. I was young and naive, wanting to help anyone who came to the Goddess’ temple.” She told Hannibal, her eyes closed and head tilted back as she reminisced the days of her early youth. Even though it had been over 2,400 years ago, she remembered it clearly.
Hannibal observed her closely, her hair that was once up nearly now lay in curls down her back as one hand held a glass of red wine he had kindly poured for them. Her nails were long and sharp, like claws but nothing out of fashion. She truly looked like a temptress, and maybe, just maybe, many stories of vampires being beautiful stemmed from her.
“There was this one night, it was cold and rainy all day, an indication that a storm was about to come. Many thought that the great god Zeus was upset hence why everyone stayed home that day. Women that came to pray for their daughters didn’t come, pregnant ladies hoping for a safe birth didn’t come and men who prayed for a good hunt did not come.” The old vampire told Hannibal and to him, it seemed like a myth. Her life, her humanity was so long ago that it seemed impossible to Hannibal yet it was. She was living proof of it.
“Yet there was this man who came, seeking shelter in the temple.” Hannibal listened to his companion continue her story.
“A young man in his 30’s I assumed. But he was beautiful, more beautiful than any creature I had ever seen. His hair was long and blonde and he was dressed in the richest of robes. I, being the young lady I was, allowed him in. I trusted him, fed him and gave him shelter from the rain. And he betrayed me.” She told Hannibal, the glass that she had been now shattered as broken shards embedded themselves into her skin.
Quickly Hannibal took her hand, eyeing for any injuries yet finding none.
“Are you hurt, my dear.” He asked her and she simply pulled her hand away before shaking her head no.
“What happened? What did this man do to you?” The older man asked her, running his hands through his slowly graying hair, worried about what she might say next.
“He betrayed me. That night, after feeding him and giving him a place to sleep, I went to pray to the goddess, to pray for the safety of my community and the children and for the families to never starve. I was just setting up her altar after praying when he attacked me. A growling creature with teeth as sharp as a sword and glowing red eyes, he turned to me and smiled and said “you’re a stupid little lamb aren’t you. Letting strangers you don’t know into your sanctuary.” Those words were the last I heard before searing pain and finally, darkness.” She sighed deeply, as if she had just breathed out the pain she held in her heart.
Hannibal felt pain for her and the way her life ended. She may be alive but she’s a walking corpse, she doesn’t breathe nor does she sleep. She’s not warm and she’s not alive. There’s no beating heart in her body.
“What about your family?” Hannibal asked her, making her smile slightly and look up at him, she stood up and walked over to him, running her hand through his hair and Hannibal leaned into her touch like a cat.
“I believe they simply thought I died in the storm, and I believed that it was best for them to believe that. My sister went on to have kids and so did my brother. However, my mother and father never really moved on from losing me.” The old vampire told Hannibal, and he nodded, understanding her reasoning for not going back.
“Come my love, you have work tomorrow and I have things to do.” The brunette told him, leading Hannibal up the stairs to his room and he followed behind her as if in a trance. Once reaching his room, he took out his nightwear and sat it on the dresser as the young woman watched.
“Are you going to leave again?” He asked her, not recognizing the voice that came out of him. He sounded like a small boy asking for someone to stay. He sounded pathetic to himself.
“Only to get my stuff. Unless you’d like me to leave.” The young woman winked towards the end of the sentence and laughed. Hannibal laughed when he came up to her and leaning down to her level, he placed a kiss on her lips and she returned it with just as much passion.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” She told him after pulling back from the kiss, and kissed his cheek.
Their one morning turned into another and another and sooner than later, they moved in momentum. One could not function without the other, a flowing river.
Hanniabl proposing to her wasn’t very secretive, he did it in their kitchen, while she marked work of her students, the pair had decided to settle in Baltimore, Maryland where Hannibal worked as a psychiatrist and his wife as a teacher. She always had a thing for children and teaching. Unfortunately due to her being physically dead, she could not have any children of her own.
“What are your thoughts on marriage?” Hannibal asked her one day, not bothering to look up from the veggies he was cutting. His lover smiled at him, putting her hand under her chin in faux thought, fangs poking her cherry lips.
“I have never really thought of it. I’ve had lovers, yes, I’ve been a mistress and everything in between yet I have never thought of marriage. Why do you ask?” The smile never left her face as her attention was fully directed towards Hannibal. She sat up straight, dark hair cascading down her back in Hollywood curls as she crossed her legs one over the other before pulling up the sleeves of her sweater.
“If you’ve had lovers, you never thought of marriage?” Hannibal questioned, a small hint of laughter in his voice. He looked up at her, hair disheveled from the long day he’d spent with patients.
“They were lovers, not someone I’d consider spending the rest of my life with.” She told Hannibal in a nonchalant tone. Her eyes held warmth when she looked at Hannibal, he noticed the way her body lost its rigid posture around him and the way she let herself become more loose.
“Would you marry me?” Hannibal dropped the question, his breath hitching in his throat while he anticipated her answer. Anything other than a yes would kill him, physically and emotionally.
“Without a doubt.” The dark haired woman told him as she hopped down from her place at the kitchen bar and made her way towards Hannibal. He looked over his shoulder at her, smiling at her.
“If you’d said anything other than a no, I think I would’ve died.” Hannibal told her, standing up to his full height, towering over his lover. He pulled her into his embrace as she rested her hands on his chest, looking up at Hannibal with a love drunk look on her face.
“When should we start planning?” She asked him, elated beyond means yet not letting an ounce of it slip through her voice. Hannibal let out a laugh before bending down to kiss her passionately.
“You can do the planning, I can assure you that money will be no issue.” Hannibal informed her as he went back to continuing their dinner.
“Sweetheart, I've more than enough money to last us for generations. I’ve been alive for so long and many of my lovers have transferred their assets to me as well. So yes, I agree, money will be no issue.” She laughed and Hannibal laughed with her.
It was not long after this dinner that the wedding planning began.
(Y/n) had a famous dressmaker that she had turned into her kind to forever make her dresses. A polish woman by the name of Olg, a fiesty woman. No matter how grumpy she may seem, the older woman had always thought of the brunette as her own daughter ever since she lost her own.
“Olga! It’s good to see you!” The young woman greeted the older lady with a tight hug and a kiss to the cheek. The older one returned the hug before pushing her back to take her in.
“Still the mournful colours you wear. Reds and blacks and grays. I see that nothing has changed.” Olga told (Y/n) with a distasteful tone. The younger one never listened to Olga when she told her to wear more colourful clothes. The only colours she had in her pallet were blue and red.
(Y/n) laughed fondly before hugging the old lady again and dragging her to the car. The ride home was filled with chatter about everything and nothing. Olga pestered the brunette about Hannibal and to know more about him. She was excited, her daughter, not by blood, finally found love within her life. Someone whose eyes light up when she enters the room and the one person who looks at her as if she hung the stars specifically for him.
“Have you thought about wedding dress fabrics?” (Y/n) hummed in thoughts the question. When she was born, it was a plain white fabric wrapped around you. Although she was very fond of the dresses that were worn in the 1800’s. The puffy dress with off the shoulder sleeves, ugh, (y/n) loved them so much. She liked to think that they were the height of fashion, Olga liked to disagree.
The ride home went by faster than the two ladies expected yet they were not disappointed. Olga was happy to be here to judge the groom in person.
“Do you smell that?” (Y/n) sniffed the air, smiling as she straightened out her dress and fixed her hair before bending down to pet Lucius, a fluffy black cat that wandered the grounds of the Lecter home. Olga indeed did smell that, she smelt meat with a tinge of blood and she was absolutely starving.
While the young brunette cooed at the cat who was now spread out on his back, Olga examined her surroundings. The home was nice and modern, it was a large home with a glass front.
“Do you like it?” (Y/n) asked Olga before guiding her into the home. It was just as beautiful on the inside with a blue coded interior.
“Hm, it’s quite nice. However it compares nothing to the estate that one Lord gave you. Madly in love, he was.” Olga reminisced, pointing her finger at the younger woman who laughed boisterously. The younger woman led Olga into the kitchen where Hannibal was just finishing up the dinner.
“Oh hello, my love.” Hannibal perked up at the greeting before turning around to greet his wife to be. (Y/n) kissed him on the jaw and hugged him and he returned the hug.
“Hello Angel.” Hannibal smiled, caressing her cheek before kissing it in greeting. (Y/n) pulled back before walking back to Olga and introducing her.
“Hans, this is Olga, my mother in all but blood.” (Y/n) enthusiastically introduced the older woman who was busy sizing up the tall man. He had charm and was good looking. He could also cook. However, all that mattered was that he loved her daughter and that she loved him.
“It's a great pleasure to finally meet you, (y/n) has spoken greatly of you.” Hannibal smiles at the woman who nods slightly at him in acknowledgement. He gestured for all of them to take a seat and they did, Hannibal sitting at the head of the table with his fiancee on the right and Olga on his left. Dinner was a silent deal, Olga didn’t know how to feel. There were many times in the past where (y/n) had come close to marrying yet never did. She only hoped that this couple would last for eternity and beyond. Olga knew deep down that it will, she could see it in the way they both looked at each other. Hannibal looked at her as if she was the breath of fresh air he’d been looking for his entire life while (Y/n) looked at him as if he was the only thing that she lived for.
Dinner was a silent affair and Hannibal was an excellent cook. After dinner, (y/n) wandered off into her study to mark the remaining work of her students as Olga cornered Hannibal in the kitchen.
“She’s loved men greater than you, many Kings and Lords who were willing to lay their lives down for her beauty.” Olga informed Hannibal who listened intently, trying to ignore the clenching feeling in his heart. He knew that his lover had many before him yet he never felt insecure, not until this moment that is, the words from Olga’s mouth put that into perspective. If great kings and lords were willing to die for her, then who was he to deserve her love?
“Yet she never married any of them.” Hannibal retorted looking up at Olga, maintaining eye contact as some form of dominance.
“No, she almost did though. A man, a lord really. A widowed man, he was. His wife had succumbed to the chills and (Y/n) was new at court, quickly catching the eye of the young lord.
Their love was pure and young, like a freshly bloomed flower. However it did not last unfortunately, the young lord succumbed to a strange illness that (Y/n) would never die from.” Olga told Hannibal who listened closely to a piece of his fiancée’s history. Olga stood leaning against the counter, watching Hannibal, waiting for a reaction.
“Well, that’s unfortunate. However, she has me and I have her, I am not succumbing to any illness soon.” Hannibal smiled at Olga in a sarcastic manner who just smiled back at him, glad that he hadn’t let the jealousy overcome his conscious mind.
“You, my boy, will do just fine.” Olga pat Hannibal on the back and wandered off, leaving the older man to his own thoughts. Hannibal himself wasn’t less than royalty, he was the Count of Castle Lecter in Lithuania, his mother was a descendent of a family that ruled over Milan for 290 years.
He was on par with any king or lord that would die for his wife to be. She was beautiful, perhaps even the most beautiful creature to walk this earth.
Lost in thought while doing the dishes, he didn’t notice his lover walking in. The slight touch of her hand on his back caught Hannibal off guard as he let out a sigh of relief once he saw it was only his lover.
“Are you alright?” She questioned him, a worrisome look on her face as her eyebrows furrowed together, wondering what made him so panicky. Her hand travelled from rubbing his shoulder to caressing his face. Hannibal sighed gently before allowing himself to lean into her touch, cherishing every moment.
“I’m quite alright, dear.” Hannibal told the young brunette in a soft yet tired voice. She muttered a quiet “oh Hannibal,” before encasing him in a hug. Hannibal hugged her tightly, afraid that she was just a dream that his mind had conjured up before burying his face in her neck, allowing himself to breathe in her scent.
(Y/n) pulled back from the hug, bending her neck down to look at Hannibal as a frown overtook her beautiful face. She carded her hands through his hair before they settled on his face.
“How will you tell me what’s wrong?” She asked him gently and Hannibal, just for a brief moment, lost control over himself.
“Olga told me about your past.” Hannibal barely whispered out in a bitter tone. “She told me about the man who you nearly married and the kings and lords who were willing to lay their life down for you.”
“Oh my dear heart, that man was someone I loved years ago. But you, my dear, you are my love now. My star and my moon.” Hannibal relaxed at her words of reassurance, fully pulling away from their embrace.
“Let’s head up to bed now, I’ll start a fresh bath for you. It’ll help you relax.” She smiled at him and patted his cheek before heading upstairs.
Hannibal stole a quick kiss from his girlfriend before going back to doing the dishes. Once he finished, he wiped his wet hands on a towel and removed his apron and hung it on the hook before heading upstairs. Halfway up and he can already smell the scent of jasmine and sandalwood beginning to drift through the air. Hannibal tilts his head up and takes in a deep breath, already feeling a bit relaxed.
“There you are my star.” (Y/n) called out to Hannibal as she got up from the bed. “I’ve been waiting patiently for you, truly had half a mind to go and grab you myself.” She tells him, Hannibal laughs as he makes his way to their bathroom.
Even at the end of the day she looks like an Angel. His beautiful angel, crafted by god just for him. He removes his clothes, putting them in the hamper and then getting into the bath. Sandalwood and Jasmine, the scent that comforted him the most simply because it belonged to his wife. He remembers the first time he saw her, in that alley way, smelling like freshly bloomed jasmine with a hint of sandalwood.
“Take your relaxing bath, I’ll see you in bed.” The young woman told her lover before kissing him on the corner of his lips and strutting into the room. Hannibal relaxed fully now, lowering himself into the extremely hot water. It felt nice to have someone care for him like this. Sometimes he let his mind wander and wonder if this is the type of love Mischa felt when she was being cared for by her elder brother. He missed his sister, his little star in the sky. Now she truly was a part of the sky. Shaking his head, Hannibal closed his eyes and drifted off a short sleep.
Once he woke up, 35 minutes had passed and his body had already pruned. Quickly getting out, he moisturized and put his night suit on. His wife, although they weren’t married legally, was on the bed, reading a book that was centuries old. She was there when it was written, hence her copy is an original.
“I thought you weren’t coming out of that bath today.” She joked, smiling up at him.
“It seems like you made it too relaxing.” Hannibal joked back, poking her side making her laugh. Sweet laughter that sounded like wind chimes. She set her book aside, arranging the pillows so that she laid down properly on them.
“Ready to sleep?” Hannibal asked her, moulding himself around the shape of her body.
“With you? Always.” She tells her husband, moving closer to rest her head on his beating heart, allowing it to lull her to sleep. Hannibal moved his cheek atop her head, breathing in that familiar scent of metallic blood and jasmine, allowing the scents to send him to a dreamless sleep.
The next morning was usual, Hannibal woke up first, made breakfast, woke up his wife and Olga, ate breakfast and then got dressed and headed off to work, he was now consulting with the FBI.
(Y/n)’s routine was the same as well. She ate, came up, got dressed for her teaching job, grabbed her papers and headed off to school.
Olga, well, she didn’t exactly have a job however, she had decided to get a head start on the wedding fabric. She knew that (Y/n) wanted something that was classic and elegant yet also wanted lace. She headed to multiple fabric stores and picked up multiple fabrics, allowing her surrogate daughter to pick one she liked the most. She wouldn’t admit it but Olga was excited, her daughter had happiness once, yet it was snatched straight out of her hands and now, she has a second chance at it with a great man.
The day came and went, by the time she reached home, it was 3pm and two hours later, (Y/n) returned home.
“Olga! What is all of this?” She asked surprised, shutting the door and taking off her gloves and coat, (y/n) put them on the couch and sat beside Olga.
“I brought fabric. The sooner you choose the type, the sooner I can begin the design.” Olga told her. The younger girl looked at Olga for a moment before hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek.
“You shouldn’t have!” She told her once, pulling away from the hug.
“Nonsense child. Now choose your favorite fabric.” And with those words, (y/n) began to finger the fabric and examined them closely. Some were beautiful crème coloured fabrics with a pearl sheen and others were decorated with gold threads and white coloured flowers embroidered. It was simply beautiful. However, the one that truly caught the young woman’s attention was a beautiful ivory coloured fabric with beautiful lace detailing and the fabric was woven with silver, causing it to have a beautiful shine in the sun and light.
“That one is it.” Hannibal called out from the door making his wife jump. She glared at him for a moment before running her hands through her hair. He laughed and shed his coat jacket, sitting next to his wife.
“It's beautiful, isn’t it.” She told him and Hannibal nodded. The fabric truly was one of a kind, however, his wife was more beautiful than any fabric or creature.
“I agree but I think that you’ll make it shine even more.” He tells her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and kissing her. (Y/n) raised his hand to his cheek, deepening the kiss a bit more.
“So that’s the fabric I assume.” Olga guessed.
“Well then, I’ll get started on the dress.” Olga kissed (y/n) on the cheek and headed to the sun room that was converted into her studio.
4 months passed by and their routine continued. Hannibal and (Y/n) headed off work while Olga worked on the dress, keeping it a secret from the bride. A month later, the dress was ready.
“The flower arrangements are beautiful, aren’t they.” The brunette gushed over the flowers, clutching onto Hannibal’s arm as he agreed. They truly were beautiful. Baby’s breath paired with lilac coloured flowers.
“Have you sent the invitations?” Hannibal asked the wedding planner who nodded. Hannibal nodded in acknowledgement and placed his hand over his wife’s.
“Everything will be perfect, my love.” Hannibal tells her normally, kissing her forehead before muttering a soft “And anyone who messes it up will be our dinner.” (Y/n) smiled at that. They weren’t innocent, Hannibal supplied her blood and the rest ate with her.
Their wedding date was in a week and good lord did that week come fast. At work Hannibal had made good friends with Will Graham and that man was his best man. Hannibal had friends, many friends, yet Will Graham was surprisingly his closest.
“Are you ready?” Will asked Hannibal who looked at him through the mirror.
“To marry her? Any day.” Hannibal replied in confidence, making Will laugh.
“I just went to see her, she looks like a vision come true. Now I see why you call her angel.” Will laughed, running his hands through his unruly curls. Will hadn’t only become friends with Hannibal, he also became friends with his wife. Will reminded (y/n) of her brother, one that she never got to see grow.
“Are you ready?” Maya asked (y/n), straightening her veil before grabbing ahold of her hands.
“Maya, I’ve been waiting over 9 centuries for this, I am ready as I'll ever be.” (Y/n) tells her long time friend, squeezing her hands in confirmation.
“Alright then, let’s get you married.” Maya said, linking their arms together.
Will was right, his wife to be was a beautiful vision. Olga did so wonderfully designing the dress, it was reminiscent of fashion during the Tudor period, with a beautiful ivory bodice decorated with the most beautiful blue and gold birds and flowers, the skirt was simple and trimmed with lace as well as the arms. It was a heavy skirt with multiple layers of fabric. A true Tudor wedding dress. Her hair was done up and a few loose curls framed her face, the makeup suited her well, dark eyes with a dark lip and the finishing touch was a dark blue lace choker, with a pendant depicting the goddess that she once served.
“You are stunning.” Hannibal sighed out in disbelief, still looking at his wife and took her hands in his bigger ones.
The priest officiated the wedding and they said their vows, sealing the ceremony with a kiss.
Maya cried at the Vows while Will teared up a little, praying to whatever god there was to find a love like theirs.
“I’ve waited a thousand years for you, Hannibal. I’ll wait another thousand if it means to have you in my arms.” She tells him, placing her hand on his cheek as he leans into it.
“I’d wait a thousand years to feel your touch and your love again, my beautiful, beautiful wife.” Hannibal tells her, tilting her chin up before kissing her again. They are finally married now, after centuries (Y/n) found someone to love for centuries to come and Hannibal found someone to love.
Tagging my beauties: @chchchcheni @shawty-writes-a-little @jake-g-lockley
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mi-dori · 3 months
Text
Valentines Event- Day 1
➳𝑶𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆➳
Game: Honkai Star Rail
Prompt: Kafka has a busy schedule so you decide to bring Valentine's to your lover
Warnings: Mentions of fingering, Cunnilingus, Dom! Char x Sub! Reader
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Admist the busy company, Kafka sat in her office, drowned in paperwork; however, despite that busy facade, she couldn't care less. Today was supposed to be a day she spent with her lover, instead, she's sitting in her boring office doing boring paperwork. Life isn't fair sometimes.
A sudden knock interrupted her focus and with an irritated voice, she said come in. Upon seeing you, a smile made its way onto her face. "Oh my, what are you doing here my love?" She got up to greet you, seeing you had a bag slung onto your shoulder.
"We're supposed to go on a date today," you pouted. Kafka sighed, of course she didn't plan for this to happen but as the CEO, she had responsibilities. "Don't worry though, I brought the date to you."
With a bright smile, you sat her down and started emptying the bag, placing chocolates, wine and even lunch on the table. Much to her surprise, they were all neatly packed and the aroma became delicious. "Hmm it smells so good~" You smiled at her reaction before handing her a bouquet of flowers.
"I almost forgot this hehe."
"Now these are beautiful. Thank you so much my dear." Kafka pulled you onto her lap and kissed you tenderly, pouring her love and appreciation into the kiss. You took a chocolate, and fed it to her before placing one in your mouth. It was a box of different shaped chocolates, each shape tasting slightly different.
"It's quite the busy day today. I didn't expect that I'd cancel our date, I'm sorry."
"Love its okay. I understand you have a job to do and I seriously don't mind."
"I think the gods of love smiled down upon me when I met you. You're literally the best woman I could ever ask for." Her words were sweet, almost like sugar, and her voice mixed with a hint of flirtiness.
Her hands gripped your hips as she pulled you into a another kiss. Desperation and lust were the only words that could describe that kiss. Her hot breath tickled your lips as her tongue fought with you, circling around it. Saliva connected the lips as you pulled away and she immediately went for the neck, attacking it with bites and bruises. "Hmm K-kafka~ someone could walk in," you managed to get out through your breathless state.
"So? Let them see who you belong too." Kafka couldn't care less about who saw; although it would make things even more hot if someone walked in. Her hand moved slowly down your body until they reached under your skirt and pulled your panties aside, letting air hit your exposed privates.
Her slender fingers circled your clit, eliciting a gasp from you as she gave it a little pinch. "My my, you're so wet from only our little make out session, are you this desperate for me, my dear?"
"Hngghh... p-please Kafka..."
"Hmm since you begged so nicely..." she stuck one finger into your early awaiting hole and started thrusting slowly, increasing her pace gradually as she added another finger.
Her free hand played with your breasts through your shirt and you felt like cumming just from her explicit touch. "You can take one more, right?" Her mocking and teasing tone added more fire to you and by the time she stuck another finger in, you were stretched open, moaning uncontrollably in her lap. God forbids anyone from walking in.
"I-I'm cumming! Ahh~" as she felt you tighten around her fingers, she pulled them out and placed them on her lips, smearing the juices before sucking them clean. You looked at her frustratedly and she chuckled before laying you down on the desk.
"I'm quite hungry dear, won't you let me eat you?" With a smirk, she buried her head before your thighs and went straight to eating you out. Your screams came out like a mad person but neither you nor Kafka could care less. Her tongue plunged in and out of your tightening hole, while her fingers worked on your clit.
The pleasure was overwhelming as she was very skilled when it came to sex and you loved every single second of it. Now you REALLY felt an orgasm approaching and it felt like a very hard one. You gripped her hair and screamed, "Kafka I'm cu-" without finishing your sentence, you came undone. Juices flowing out of you like a waterfall.
You laid there breathless as Kafka cleaned you up... with her tongue of course. When she was done, she pulled you back on her lap and smiled while brushing away some hair from your face. "You did well pretty baby. When I go home, I'm expecting the same in return, right?"
You gave her a thumbs up, unable to form words after the intense session you had. Kafka pulled out the lunch you made earlier and began feeding you as well as eating herself. "Hmm this is good my love. I can tell you've tried to recipe I've given you."
"Y-yeah...it was hard to grasp.." your voice was hoarse from all the screaming you did. She chuckled and kissed your forehead.
"Thank you for bringing this date to me. I love you. Happy valentines."
"Hmm happy valentines my love."
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Note
Can we have Andrew and Reader transforming into half demon?
You can do it with Ashley together with Reader (separately) if you want.
Reader would have been with the Graves family since episode 1, as she was an exchange student but ended up being abandoned along with her Graves siblings.
She would be a cold, relaxed, indifferent person, a little sociopathic, a little temperamental but kind when they meet.
Reader would have been injured in the Hitman confrontation when she went to save Andrew (let's be honest, this kid would never be able to shoot the Hitman the first time with him being all nervous).
So to treat her injuries correctly they decided to use the demon to heal her, the demon doesn't like the idea of healing someone but he decides to heal her but still angry with this 'disrespect' the demon turns her into a half demon (similar to Jennifer Body the film).
That if she wants to stay alive she has to eat human flesh or drink blood.
If I had a nickel for every time I was requested to write a reader who’s an exchange student staying with the Graves Family- I’d have 4 nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened 4 times already
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Andrew Graves x Half Demon!Reader
Andrew’s head was pounding
His eyes were wide with terror as he stared down at you in his arms
The events kept playing in his head, over and over like a broken record
He had found the hitman in Ashley’s spontaneously stupid game of hide-and-seek
Although, what was she expecting?
It was an amateur with a gun against a skilled killer with a knife
Of course he wasn’t going to do well!
So, you did the only thing you could think of to save him
Save the boy who you’ve lived alongside since high school
Who’s been nothing but kind and patient to you..
Push him away as the hitman lunged
So, here you lay..
Barely breathing in his arms
While the hitman laid dead nearby
Andrew, in a blind rage finally fired the gun. Draining it dry of any bullets in there in hopes of killing him
And, he achieved his goal
The hitman was dead
And it didn’t look like long til you’d be you…
“Well- you’ve successfully wasted all of our ammo.” Ashley grumbled, picking up her discarded gun. She wiped off any grass blades or dirt that stuck to the pristine silver of it.
If Andrew wasn’t still in shock, he would yell at her. Yell at her for having the audacity to worry more about her gun’s ammo than their dead friend! Yell at her for foolishly trusting him to kill the hitman and then running off! If you hadn’t jumped in, he would be dead…
He should be dead.
Andrew furrowed his brow, tears forming much to his dismay. As he shut his eyes, they fell in twin streams. His hands shook, gripping on to your body as it slowly lost its warmth. He quietly sobbed, trying his best to not make them too loud or pathetic. If he had been better with the gun…if he didn’t hesitate…you would still be…
“Andy!” He felt something cold tap the back of his head, breaking him from his mellow dramatic moment. Ashley stared down at him with frustration, “Come on! Let’s ditch the bodies, someone was bound to hear your bitch crying by now..”
“Are you serious?!” Andrew stood up, still holding you in his arms. He thrusted his arms forward, pushing Ashley back with your dead weight, “Look at her! She’s dying!” He was emotional. Erratic. But he didn’t care.
“I can see that!” His sister pushed his arms back, and Andrew held you close to his chest, “Now put her down before anyone comes by!”
“…no.”
He wasn’t yelling anymore, just staring down at you. Ashley’s eyes widened, before her face became a scowl.
“No?”
“No!”
Ashley, pinched the bridge of her nose, “Okay- yeah- ssuuurreeee! Let’s just carry a dead body around! Want me to stick my hand up her ass and sit her on my lap like a puppet so you can pretend you’re talking with her?” She roughly poked Andrew’s forehead, “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”
“Well I’m not leaving her!” Andrew snapped back, making Ashley flinch ever so slightly. He didn’t seem to care though as he turned his attention back down to you.
Both were quiet for a while, probably longer than they should have because people would be coming by soon to see the commotion. Ashley could see the thoughts running behind her brother’s eyes, clearly thinking of something to fix this…to fix you.
She didn’t understand what the fuss was about though. You were just dead weight before, and now you are literally. Plus, she never liked the looks her brother gave you. You were better off dead in her eyes, and if anyone was going to kick the bucket, it would’ve been you…
But Andrew didn’t want to leave you behind. Sentimental bastard. What was he expecting? You to just- snap out of being dead? It wasn’t that easy!
….or….was it?
Ashley’s hand drifted over the front pocket of her shorts, the imprint of the demon trinket visible. Andrew saw her subconscious motions out of the corner of his eye and perked up. Where hope formed on his face, Ashley scowled.
“No!”
“Give it here!”
Andrew set your body down, lunging for his sister for the trinket. The pair fell to the ground, wrestling one another for the trinket.
“Let! Go!”
“No! It’s mine!”
In the end, Ashley didn’t win. Andrew, for as gangly as he is, was still stronger than her and managed to get the trinket away. He cupped it in his hands, standing up and observing it quizzically. There was an ominous aura to this dream catch esc thing, but he didn’t care.
“The demon..”
“Andrew, no!”
“Let’s take Y/N to the cultists lair—“
“Andrew!”
“Summon the demon—“
“You asshole- are you even listening?!”
“And get her back!”
Andrew grinned from ear to ear, his arms held out at the genius of his plan.
So- this is what it felt like to be Andrew, Ashley lamented. She got why he was such a stick in the mud all the time now.
Before she could object, Andrew was already picking up your body.
“Come on! Let’s go! Everyone should be gone by now!”
Despite Ashley’s insistence that it wouldn’t work and they should cut their losses, Andrew persisted
Eventually the two snuck you into the cultists’ meeting room
Shockingly, everything was still set up from when Andrew had previously visited.
It made for a quick and easy ritual
Ashley’s demon friend was less than happy to be bothered though….
“tAr SoUl….wHaT iS tHiS?”
The dark, red eyed blob stared angrily up at Ashley- who gestured to your dead corpse like a game show assistant would show off a car.
“A body?…”
“I rEqUiRe FrEsH sOuLs..” the demon skittered around the body, prodding it with its tendrils, “tHiS iS aLrEaDy DeAd!”
“I know but-“ Ashley groaned, pointing to Andrew with her thumb, “My dumbass brother draws the line at necrophilia and wants her back.”
“I’m sorry- WHAT?!”
Andrew objected, completely disregarding the fact that they were in the presence of a demon, “Do you REALLY think the only reason I want to bring her back is so I can have sex with her?!”
“Well?” Ashley looked at him blankly, “Isn’t it?”
“…..” Andrew adverted his eyes to the ground, “It’s…partly true…”
“I fucking knew it.” Ashley sighed, completely exasperated by her brother’s idiocy, “I can’t believe you’re using MY demon connections so you can get your dick wet without feeling like a bad person! News flash Annnddyyyyy~” she gave him that shit eating grin she knew he despised, “You’ve done much worse.”
“Shut your whore mouth!”
“Make me pussy!”
“EnOuGh!”
The siblings stopped their bickering, Andrew pausing as he had grabbed the collar of Ashley’s shirt. They stared at the demon, looking more like their parent just scolded them than a demon yelling at them to stop their bickering.
The demon floated very close to Andrew’s face, causing him to release his sister and step back, “yOu WiSh To UsE mY pOwErS tO rEvIvE tHe MoRtAl?”
Andrew nodded.
“tHeN wHaT iS iT yOu OfFeR?..”
Andrew’s face contorted as he tried to think, “Uhhhh…”
Ashley stood behind the demon, smugly smiling at her cornered brother, “Haha! Bet ya didn’t think this far, didya?”
“Shut up woman!—“
Andrew immediately regretted raising his voice, as the demon’s red eyes glowed menacingly- almost staring holes into his retinas. He gulped, wishing he could tell Ashley to call off her guard demon- but that would only make things worse for him. Here he was, with no souls to offer a demon- and the demon already didn’t like him for his foolish request and yelling at his ‘tar soul’.
“wElL?…” the demon broke the silence that wafted through the air.
Andrew’s eyes widened, “O-Okay! Ummm..” he searched his brain for anything, any idea on how to revive you when he blurted out the first thing he landed on, “Souls! I can get you two souls for bringing back Y/N’s!”
“aNd WhErE aRe ThEsE sOuLs?”
“Well, I don’t have them now-“ The demon growled and Andrew tensed, “But! But! I can get them to you very soon! Yeah! How’s that sound?”
The red eyed blob stared at Andrew for a few moments, clearly considering his deal before it turned around and made its way to your corpse, “VeRy WeLl…BuT yOuR fAiLuRe FoR pAyMeNt UpFrOnT wIlL cOmE wItH cOnSeQuEnCeS..”
With those words, the room went pitch black. By the time the fluorescent lights returned, the demon was gone. Andrew lunged for your body, kneeling down beside you.
“Y/N?…” he shook you a little, “Y/N?”
His face faltered for a moment, fear coursing through him before he felt your body move. Your breathing was slow…but you were breathing! He cupped your face in his hands, waiting anxiously for you to open your eyes.
And you did.
And then you spoke.
“..A-….Andrew?”
And like that- you were back!
Sore, with some blood gone
But back nonetheless!
You felt….strange though
Upon coming down from his high of overwhelming joy, Andrew noticed just how cold you were
You didn’t feel chilly at all
But you felt cold to the touch
Along with that, you couldn’t get the taste of blood out of your mouth
It was hard to decipher which was the result of having been a corpse for half an hour…
…or what was from being brought back by a demon
But, Andrew had a debt to pay
So that can be worked out later
Returning to the motel parking lot, the hitman’s car was still there
And no one was around yet
So you took that and set off
You slept most of the ride
It was a rough night of…ya know
Dying
So you deserved to sleep
Though your dreams were…strange
Images of red
Blood spewing as you bit into the neck of a screaming person
You didn’t get a good look at them until their body was a mangled mess of torn limbs with bits of flesh taken out of them
Your face stained with blood
The delicious sensation filling your mouth
At first you chalked this up to a guilt dream
You feeling bad for eating that cultist a while back
But…no
This wasn’t a guilt dream
You never feasted on that man like an animal
You never went back for seconds, depraved of the taste
And in those dreams you never felt what you were feeling in that moment
…desire for more
Your concerning dream was interrupted by a sudden sensation of pain as a projectile was thrown at your head.
“Ow!” You sat up, your hand shooting to the assaulted spot on your head, “What the?..”
“I told you to wake her!” Andrew hissed.
“I did!” Ashley objected, “My shoe woke her up!”
“You little..”
Andrew’s grumbling trailed off, turning to look at you from the driver’s seat. You gave him a reassuring nod to let him know you were okay. He sighed in slight relief. How that the- initial pain in your head was gone, you looked out the window to see just where you three were. The backseat passenger window showed you a parking with cars lining the spots as far as you could see.
“Where…are we?” You asked, turning back to look at the siblings, “And what are we doing here?”
“Cheapskate here says it’s free parking.” Ashley replied bluntly, not even giving Andrew’s annoyed look a glance.
You looked between them, “Don’t we- need to pay that demon back? How’s free parking going to get us two souls?”
“Go on Annnndddd—“ Ashley paused as Andrew gave her a look, “…drew. Andrew. Tell Y/N your brilliant plan!”
Andrew sighed, resting his hands on the wheel as he tried to explain the plan, “Alright, so…we need two souls for that demon. We- are also running low on money. So…we’re going to kill two birds with one stone.”
You nodded, though his and Ashley’s drastically different expressions told you there was more. So- you prodded.
“And those birds arreee?”
“…our parents.”
The rational thing was to claim that they couldn’t do such a thing! Their parents took you in after all!
…although you’d be lying
Mrs Graves really only agreed because she’d get a cut of the exchange student program funds
Other than provide you a roof, she ignored you like she did her other children
Same goes for her husband, who didn’t do much of anything beside give you awkward hellos before he went to work
So you weren’t really against robbing and killing them
The events played as normal, pretending the fire that “killed everyone” was sensational news coverage and you all were fine!
You’re “politely” told to go to bed early, bunking with Ashley in the basement while Andrew took the couch.
Though, being honest…
You didn’t trust yourself around Ashley alone
Ever since you’ve been alive you’d had this…animalistic urge to tear into someone like a carnivorous animal
To hold them to the ground and watch the light leave their fear filled eyes as you tore out their throat
And Ashley was defenseless
Sleeping just inches from you in the spare bed
Her gun was empty, you knew this
So she wouldn’t shoot you
So you did the both of you a favor, and got out of there
Your eyes lingered on the basement stairs, the bed and Ashley’s sleeping form still very in much in your view. You had to tear your eyes away to avoid running back down there and giving in to the voice in your head telling- no, demanding you devour her.
Your relationship with her was complicated enough, and you knew with enough convincing you would. She was always cold with you, trying to tear a wedge between you and Andrew as you both got closer. But she also was the closest thing you had to a sister or any actual familial connection. You don’t think you could bear that guilt.
You drew your eyes to the couch, Andrew fast asleep on it. You could trust yourself around him, you know you could. The voice had nothing against Andrew. So you crossed over to the couch, kneeling down beside it.
Andrew’s unconscious state was fragile, stirring almost immediately as he felt a presence join him. His eyes opened with some strain, his voice littered with tiredness.
“Y/N?…” he sat up, rubbing his eyes, “Did Ashley kick you out?..”
“No.” You responded. You debated telling him why you were here if Ashley hadn’t kicked you out, but what could you tell him? ‘Hey I wanted to eat your sister’? You couldn’t do that. So instead you asked, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”
A small blush painted Andrew’s cheeks, as he nodded slightly. He pulled the covers aside, scooting closer to the back of the couch so you’d have room. You climbed onto the couch with him, your arms wrapping around his torso. You felt him shiver from the closeness, almost forgetting how cold you were. You didn’t care though. You craved the closeness more than you craved tearing into Andrew’s flesh and eating his heart in front of him.
You furrowed your brow, pushing those thoughts down as Andrew slowly covered you two up.
“You…alright?” Andrew tentatively asked. Obviously you weren’t alright, by this time last night you were dead.
You racked your mind about what to say, nuzzling into his sweater for comfort as you spoke, “I’m- fine….just ever since I….”
“Died?”
“Yeah, that….I’ve had….urges.”
“Like- what?”
“…like devouring someone like an animal.”
He went quiet after that. You can’t exactly say what you expected reaction wise. Disgust? Fear? Silence felt appropriate to be fair. You weren’t anticipating his next words when he processed the information…
“…three birds with one stone then.”
The plan went as the siblings had- semi planned.
Scaring the parents with an unloaded gun into the basement
Removing the limit from Mrs Graves credit card so they’d have some cash
Handing their souls to the demon
And Andrew leaving you to enjoy your meal
You felt like an animal. A hungry, ravenous animal.
Your breath was shaky, eyes wide with horror at what you’d done. You and the basement were bloodied mess, and your host parents were mangled beyond recognition.
It didn’t help that you were on your hands and knees, chin drenched with blood as what you had done replayed in your mind. The sounds of the basement stairs creaking broke you out of your trance. You cowered momentarily before realizing it was Andrew.
“Wow- you..” he paused, covering his mouth as he gagged from the smell of blood, “Really did a number on them..”
Hot tears welled in your eyes as you stared up at him. You trembled, falling further to the ground than you already were. Your forehead met the basement floor as you sobbed.
“I’m sorry!” You wailed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“
It was all you could say. What else could you? You shook and sobbed like the wounded animal you were as Andrew slowly approached you. He fell to his knees in front of you, and pulled you into a hug. His parents’ blood stained his sweater, but he didn’t care. He’ll wash it later.
You trembled in his arms as he rubbed gentle circles into your back, soft shushes filling your ears as he comforted you. You buried your face into his shoulder, shaking and crying from what you’d done. This was different than when you ate the cultist back at the apartment, then you didn’t feel so….dehumanized.
He was prepared like a dish. Not bitten into like a wolf delivering the killing blow to a deer. He was eaten for survival. They were eaten to satiate this desire you had.
Though to Andrew, this downside was worth it, so long as he could hold you again.
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withahappyrefrain · 1 year
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Summary: In which after a long night, you and Peter find comfort in each other.
Warnings: unprotected sex, praise, oral sex (f receiving), language, fingering, dirty talk, if you think butterfly hair clips are a new trend, you're too young to read this
It was a soft sound, always was. He always tried to be as quiet as possible when he opened the window, in case you were asleep. 
Not that you ever were. 
Truth was, you couldn’t fall asleep. Your eyes may close for a bit, drift off, but then you’d turn and feel how empty his side of the bed was, alerting you that Peter still wasn’t home yet. 
The creak of your shared apartment window opening was your favorite sound. 
It meant he had made it back to you. 
Your feet quickly hit the wooden floor, the sheets on your bed becoming a tangled mess as you threw them away from your body. 
Peter's arms quickly found you, wrapping themselves around your waist. As the faint smell of cinnamon began to engulf you, your lips found its way to his neck. 
"Hey bug, it's like ya missed me or somethin'." In Peter's head, it sounded way smoother. But the truth was, no matter how many years you two had been dating, once your lips had found that spot where his neck and jawline connected, words were tough to get out. 
"Missed you. Rough night?" Your fingers traced over Peter's suit, looking for tears. The fact there were hardly any was a good sign. 
"Tonight wasn't too bad. Not the best, but not the worst." You simply nodded as you inspected the cut on his right shoulder. 
"You hungry? I have leftover pasta in the fridge." Peter smiled at your suggestion. Whether it was inspecting him for injuries or cooking, you always tried to take care of him. 
You always made him feel loved. 
Peter didn't think that feeling would ever return. You wish you had met him earlier. 
"Just wanna be with you," His voice was soft, his lips against your forehead. You melted into him as he pressed gentle kisses to the top of your head. 
"Just wanna be with you too," you murmured. 
The two of you made your way back to the bed, sitting up as you helped him strip down to his boxers. 
"Come'ere," Peter's hands find their way back to your hips, gently gripping the soft flesh as he pulls you into his lap. 
You don't complain. How could you, when it allowed you to be closer to him, allowed you to be wrapped in him? 
So instead of complaining, instead of cracking a joke, your lips find his, closing the space in-between. 
Friends joke that you and Peter could set a world record for how often you two kiss one another. Surely at least several thousands kisses have occurred since your first. At least. 
And yet, no matter how many times, warmth spreads through your body when his lips capture yours. No matter how many times, your stomach always flutters, your knees weaken, when you feel his hands cup your face, keeping you in place. 
His tongue only has to swipe across your bottom lip once before you grant him access, parting your mouth. Your breath hitches as he uses one hand to tilt your head up, deepening the kiss that was becoming more desperate and frantic by the second. 
Peter's other hand trails down your shirt, until it reaches the hem. Long fingers ghost the barrier between fabric and bare skin several times. A small whine leaves your lips. 
He chuckles, "Something you want bug?" 
Two can play that game. His chuckles quickly die, a strangled groan replacing it when your hips rock against his, your clothed core brushing against him. 
"Fucking hell, bug," His hands move to your hips once more, gripping as he stands on his knees. 
The way Peter is able to lay you down on the bed in one fluid motion has your head spinning. Out of instinct, your arms stretch up, assisting him in removing your Tshirt. 
His mouth is back on yours, his hands quickly pulling down the thin pair of panties you had on. Why you felt the need to wear them, knowing Peter would be back later and it had been several days since you two had fucked, was beyond him. 
His lips leave yours, now making contact with your bare chest. Your fingers tangle themselves into his dark hair as his mouth finds one of your nipples, sucking on the hardening bud. 
All you can do is whine and cant your hips towards him, desperate for any kind of friction. 
"Peter," the desperation in your voice goes straight to his cock, which was currently straining against the fabric of his boxers.
Peter moves his body down, down to where he personally believes is pure heaven. 
In between your thighs. 
Prior to meeting Peter, you were used to your partners going down on you with the mindset of it being an obligatory act, simply a step that they could get over with quickly before pulling down their pants. 
But then you met Peter, who could spend all day between your thighs if you allowed it. Peter, who takes his time with his tongue, tasting every inch of your wet cunt. 
Your back arches in pleasure upon his tongue thrusting past your slicked folds. His nose brushes against your clit, sending electricity through your body. One of your hands finds its way back to his now ruffled hair, tugging on the thick, dark locks to guide him to where you need his mouth the most. 
Peter enjoys teasing you. He loves to see how far he can push you. But when it comes to tasting you, when it comes to making you fall apart on his tongue, he can't find it in himself to do it. 
He enjoys it too damn much. 
The words leaving your mouth are barely coherent, your urge to hold onto a sense of control disappearing as soon as he thrusts a finger into your core. 
Peter loses himself in the all too familiar taste of you. A second finger joins the first, the delicious stretch causing you to throw your head back. The moan he lets out against your cunt sends vibrations throughout your body. 
"Feel s'good, s'tight," his voice is muffled, his words only pushing you closer and closer to that pleasurable peak. 
Your body withers against the sheets, his fingers zeroing in on the spot that made your vision blurry. All you can say is his name, over and over again. All you can focus on is him. 
"P-Peter. I-Peter!"
He nods frantically, able to understand what you need. His laps wrap around your clit, mouth sucking ever so slightly as his fingers continue their ministrations. 
Your whole body seizes up and goes rigid as the first wave of pleasure washes over you. The grip on his hair tightens, as if it's your anchor. 
When you open your eyes, Peter's face is hovering over yours. His pupils are so overblown with lust, you can barely see that beautiful amber hue. 
A finger gently traces your cheeks as he studies your face. 
"You wanna keep going? We can stop tonight."
"N-no," you weakly shake your head, "W-want-need you." 
His lips brush against yours, the gesture grounding you. 
"I got you. We can stop anytime, okay?" 
"Okay," your voice is weak, but that didn't stop your hands from reaching towards the boxers he still had on. 
"Someone's impatient." 
An adorable pout forms on your face, "Says the guy who lasted not even five minutes before eating me out." 
Peter laughs, the corners of his eyes creasing as a smile overtakes his face. 
It's a beautiful sight. It's your favorite sight. 
"Look, it's been several days since we last had sex. Can ya blame me, bug?" He leaned his forehead against yours, moving his head ever so slightly back and forth to make your noses brush. 
"No, I can't," you say with the giggle that Peter absolutely adores. The one that he would do anything to be able to hear for the rest of his life. 
His hands brush yours away, making quick work of removing his boxers. Your thighs clench at the sight of his hardened cock that was now lying against his toned stomach. 
You reach out, desperate to feel him in your hand. 
"Later," you raise an eyebrow at his abruptness, "I-sorry, I just really wanna be inside ya." 
The sheepish look on his face made your heart flutter. Had he not rub his cock between your soaked folds, you would have reached out to ruffle his hair, maybe even sit up to kiss him on the cheek. 
But you can't, not when the head of his cock brushes against your swollen clit. All you can do is grip his broad shoulders and bury your head into his kiss-bitten neck. 
Peter eases into you, knowing you need time to adjust to the stretch. 
"How the hell do you do that?" He grits through his teeth. 
"D-do what?" 
"Be s'tight." Without even thinking, you clench around his cock, which is only halfway inside of you. 
"Fuck bug." Peter's mouth finds itself on your jawline, nipping at your warm skin. His hips move away from yours, his cock nearly leaving you. 
A whine falls from your lips, your legs wrapping themselves around his waist, desperate for him to stay. 
"Hey," he says softly, "Hey."
You open your eyes to find him looking at you, his lips captured in a soft smile. 
"I'm not going anywhere," He assures you before capturing your lips once more. 
Peter's hips rock forwards, finally filling you to the hilt. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, sure to leave crescent shaped marks. Not that he would complain. 
Peter never did. It wasn't because the marks would fade away by dawn, but rather that he loved the physical reminders of your love, that it was you who had marked his body, leaving evidence of your affection towards him. 
"Doing s'good. Feel fuckin' amazing," His Queens accent always came out during times like these; when he was trying to keep it together, trying to keep himself from increasing the pace of his thrusts. 
Your ankles lock around one another, keep his hips flushed against yours. 
"More," you whined, "Please." 
"Ya sure?" You simply nodded, desperate to be consumed by him. 
The sound of skin slapping against skin increased, as did his pace. You were still reeling with sensitivity from your first orgasm, jolts of pleasure sparking throughout your body with each thrust. 
Peter knew you were close from your thighs shaking, your cunt clenching around his cock. 
"One more. Be an angel and gimme one more," His voice was shaking, his mind trying to focus on making you cum again. Which Peter personally thought he deserved some kind of medal for being able to focus on anything other than being engulfed in your warm, soaked cunt. 
His fingers trailed down to where your bodies connected, quickly finding your clit. A near scream erupted from your lungs as he drew circles on the swollen bundle of nerves. 
Your body shakes with pleasure as you fall over the edge, so lost in pure rapture that you don't even notice his thrusts becoming erratic. 
A deep, guttural moan falls from Peter's lips, his hips stuttering as he begins to come inside of you. The sensation prolongs your high, your hips desperately trying to meet his. 
The sounds he's making are heavenly to your ears. Your teeth sink into his shoulder, nipping and sucking a purple bruise into his pale skin. 
His hips stutter one last time before stilling, the only sounds in the bedroom now the ceiling fan and your heavy breathing. 
"Fuck," was all you could get out after several minutes had passed. 
"Yeah," Peter chuckled, "That was….yeah. Fuck." 
"Alright," you chuckled, "Where's the towel?" 
"The towel?" Peter lifts his head from your chest, a confused expression taking over his face. 
"Did….did you not grab a towel?" 
"No, I….I was focused on other things," He said sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. 
"Peter!" 
"What? We pay extra in rent to have our own washer and dryer for a reason, bug." 
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@liz-allyn @wicked-remarks @moonyslove78 @letmeplaytheliontoo @blooming-violets @squiddtheekidd @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @letmeplaytheliontoo @ouralcohol @mortwig @renaroo123 @rae-gar-targaryen @reidslovely
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shuxiii · 10 months
Text
Heart to heart— Hanni pham x reader
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Synopsis; she dates you as a dare
This endless loop has became a routine in your life. The same tireless and restless night of her drunk knocking on your door, with the same eyes you adoringly stared before, now were hazy teary red once.
It was never like this, it should have never had been like this.
She played you, she lied to you, she never loved you. And all of it started with a simple harmless dare. A dare that ruined everything you thought was love. It ruined your picture of love.
You and hanni had been dating for a good 5 months, meeting each other in a bar. Where she called you those sweet names and you fell for it.
She treated you with all the love she could grasp in her hands, something not everyone had but wanted. Something that everyone envied for.
Not every good start ends in a good note, because once you keep a lie eventually it comes out the light.
Everythinfg was fine, hanging out with her friends in the same exact bar you guys met. Reminscing about the moment you met each other. A love in first sight that was only a wishful dream for others
And caught in the blissful moment, a mere sentence ruined it.
"Good thing Hanni took that dare or we couldn't have met such an amazing person like you," Minji said, drunkenly slurring in the process but still clear for your ears to hear.
Everyone went silent as their catious stares went to you.
Hanni didn't know what to do at that moment, her worried gaze fell back at your blank eyes.
You stood up from your chair, as hanni stood as well in a panic, "ym, its not what it looks like—"
She tries to hold your wrist but you were already out the door.
"Yn, please let me explain" she begs.
"What exactly is there to explain?" You tried to hold back the shake in your voice, but the tears in your eyes made it clear.
"I know, i know baby. I'm stupid to take that bet, at first it was a dare, minji dared me to ask you out. And i did—i did it to win the bet, but it was at the beginning now i reslly love you."
She reaches for your hands, but you move away from her.
"So you never loved me?"
"At first, I didn't, but now I do, and I love you so much." I was stupid to take it, but if I hadn't, I would never have met you!" She pleaded.
"So what? i should be thankful you took that dare? That you lied to my face?"
"No, i didnt mean it like that—"
Her arms clung to your body as you stood there silently, her heart aching even more.
"I don't think I can do this right now," you murmured, her grasp tightening even more.
"Yn, please dont do this to me. Please stay" her voice became more incoherent and her sobs echoed even louder as you felt her body shook.
But her pleading wails were in vain, as you pulled her away, leaving her on the floor as you slipped from her grip, as she saw you fade from her view.
That was two weeks ago.
You were doing well, or so you thought. Ever since you left Hanni crying outside the bar, it felt like you left a part of you. But after you convinced yourself that she never loved you, it became easier to pretend you hated her. It was a loop game with your mind whenever she lingered in your thoughts, you'd just whisper the words like a hateful mantra, it was a cheap reassurance. But if it kept her out of your head then it was worthwhile.
And ignoring her was easy for you; it was like practice makes it perfect, and you nailed it.
As you were ready to attend a night party with your friends you heard a knock on your door at first you hesitated, you never opened the door every time you heard the desperate knocks because you knew who it was.
but Minji's voice made you open it was a scoff on your face.
''Why are you here?''
“Can we talk?” She pleaded.
“What is there to talk about, i think we did thag in the bar two weeks ago.” I scoff.
“Its about hanni” she says
The sound of her name made my heart take its pace.
“Okay 20 minutes and you’re out the door.”
“Thank you,” she smiles.
“So what about her?”
She looks back at me with sheer concern in her gaze.
“I'm here because she hasn't been herself since two weeks ago. You are aware that she easily falls into a bad habit of drinking. We're worried because I believe she hasn't been sober for a single day since then.”
The thought of that ached my heart but i didnt want to.
“Yn, i know you hate her. But she dosent listen to us anymore and im here as a worried friend, im sorry for what ive caused but if you just listen to her just even just an ounce of your time then I’ll get out of your hair and leave you be, so please.”
And here i was stupidly looking for her in the bar the same place we met and the same place that ruined everything.
Not even a minute passed by but i saw her quickly than anyone ever could. But i stopped just a few blocks from her, i was hesitant, i didnt know if i could do this.
But eventually she saw me.
and at first hanni thought she was too drunk to see you standing infront of her but as she rubs her eyes she realized you were real breathing and standing in front of her.
and faster than the own beat of her heart she puts her arms around you and her head rested against your shoulder, the same scent she missed ever since she was surrounded by the bitter scent of alcohol and cigarettes, your fragrance made her safe.
''You're real'' she slurred.
the loud music became silent in your ears and all of a sudden all the unwelcome memories came rushing like a storm, her touch melted against yours, and for a second you almost fell for it again, but this time you couldn't be driven by your feelings.
You fight to break free from her hands, but her hold tightens even more, and then the panic began to rush into her body as you felt her body shake. and suddenly you heard small sobs come out her mouth.
''Don't leave me,'' her voice barely making out the words she said as she began sobbing louder.
you started to realize she was going to panic attack your hands hugged her back as you begin to stroke her back softly.
''Hanni, calm down'' you softly spoke.
Her cries became faint but her body still shooked and her grip was still tight.
I was in conflict, i didnt know what to do but i wanted to be out of this bar.
I intertwined her hands with mine, she followed without a fight.
As we were out the crowded and loud bar, we were now faced with silence that not a knife would got cut off. I didnt know where to start.
“Yn… I’m sorry—“
“I know hanni, but why?” I stammer, “You’re sorry but why did you choose to do it?”
I look back at her, tears streaming down my cheeks, how hard I tried to look her in the eyes without wavering, but I didn't have the power to do so, and in the end, I fell for it again, her gaze the same ones that I adored and that had this soft look even when she was intoxicated, I could tell it was the same ones I saw.
“I dont know,” she says.
It wasnt the answer i want but the only one i get. Maybe there really wasnt hope.
"I don't know, I was afraid to be proven wrong," she says back, "I was always told I was too soft for my own good, and I was afraid—fearful that it was true."
“Even though i was aware it was wrong, i was selfish.” She says “but i faced the biggest consequences in the end.”
“And that is?” I hesitantly ask.
“You,” she tells me “I lost you.”
“Yn… if you give me one more chance to prove to you—to prove to you that i do love you, ever since our first date together i wanted it out the bet, being with you felt so amazing that i was in so much guilty to take that dare and if i was given the chance to go back in time, i wish i met you without the dare.”
She sounded so sobered.
“You still can, han.”
Hope flickered in her eyes.
“Do you promise? Promise not to lie again?” I say
“I promise, never lying ever again, i swear.”
She says without hesitation no stutter.
I intertwine her hands against mine again as she clings to my arms, afraid i’d disappear again.
“Lets go home, han.”
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ladymarycrawley · 7 months
Text
Wet celebration - Mason Mount
Not requested but I was struck by the inspiration, after a long time, to write sth for our star boy so enjoy 💫
Warning: smutty, very smutty (and I said to myself it shouldn't have been lmao)
Tag list: @prideofpd, @chelsealover, @johnstonesfc, @masterclassbaby, @masonxomount
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Mason going back to training after having missed some of the first games of the season together with the England camp was definitely something worthy of being celebrated.
Before he could go back you had in mind to have your intimate party which consisted of a candle lit bubble bath and champagne glasses to have a toast.
Everything had to be ready for when he came back home after his last session at the physio, the one that would have officially sealed his coming back on the pitch.
You were waiting for him kind of impatiently, both to have him all to yourself (romantically speaking) and to hear the good news of him getting the green light to go back doing the thing he loved the most.
He entered your shared house with the biggest grin ever, his trademark, and with his arms wide open.
“Guess who can go back to playing football?”
“Mhh let me guess…” You accepted playing his game, assuming a fake thoughtful expression as you walked towards him, between his arms. "Is that you?"
He nodded gloatingly, securing his grip around your body.
“I can go back playing” He hummed, sounding like a happy boy who just finished his homeworks and can go having fun.
“I knew it, I’m so proud of you” You whispered while cupping his perfect face in your hands. “And you deserve a reward”
Mason lifted his eyebrows in an enquiring look, waiting to have some explanations.
You smiled and took his hand in yours to lead him upstairs, where your romantic surprise was waiting for you.
When you stopped at the entrance of your big bathroom he saw the shadow of candlelights and smiled knowingly, walking in to look at the tub brimming with soap bubbles, the two glasses of champagne and the massaging oil on the ceramic surface waiting for you.
He wiggled his eyebrows and started unzipping his hoodie to throw it mercilessly on the floor.
“We need to hurry before the water cools down” His voice assumed an husky tone, the one he would usually get when lust was making its way inside his body and also the one that would make you wet.
You followed his advice by slowly discarding all the clothes that were covering your body, letting them fall on the floor. The only thing that didn’t leave your body was your powerful eye contact: you couldn’t look away from each other, you were a feast for each other’s eyes.
When you were both naked Mason offered his hand to help you step inside the tub as you thanked him silently with a smile.
You sat there, waiting for him to join you and to adopt your favourite posture which was laying your back against his chest and letting him do everything he had in mind to do to your body.
Before relaxing against his toned chest you stretched out your right arm to grab the two glasses and handed him his.
“What are we drinking to?”
 “To you being back at training and to me being always proud of you”
Mason smirked and raised his glass.
“I’d also like to drink to my gorgeous girlfriend who had this great idea…been missing some good bath tub sex”
“Mase!” You turned crimson as you nonchalantly sipped your wine.
“Oh come on, I know you’re no angel and your aim has always been this, since the beginning that little mind of yours started thinking about all of this”
You rolled your eyes and drank up the liquid in your glass, leaving some at the bottom of it to dip your index finger in and bring it closer to your boyfriend’s lips. He smirked as he didn’t doubt not even for a second about what was your plan for the night and swirled his tongue around your finger before sucking it. You had far better things to do than going on having some good wine, so you skipped to the main course.
A mischievous smirk appeared on your lips to match the one plastered on Mason’s face.
He took in your naked body, soaking your breast with some lazy strokes that gave him the chance to finally touch you. His thumb rubbed your nipple gently, soon adding the tip of his tongue to it.
Some sweet but forbidden cuddles were the things you missed the most during these days of pain and you weren’t the only one needing them so you moved your hand across his abdomen to place it in the tip of his dick coming out of water. The look you gave to it was obviously a luxurious one, you couldn’t wait to taste it.
You started by brushing your thumb pad left and right, adding a light pressure to it.
Mason sat on the step your bath tub had so you could give him his reward more easily.
The sight of his big cock twitching made you even more eager to have it so you moved closer, placing your palms on his inner thighs to let your mouth do the work you both were looking forward to: you spit on his member to make the movement of your lips smoother. Relaxed, cute moans started filling the room as he placed his hand in your tied up hair to spur you on.
“Oh good god..”
His eyes were closed and his head back against the wall: you succeeded in making him relax but you didn’t want him to get too relaxed as you needed something too, for being a good supportive girlfriend. When his precum started touching your lips you stopped, giving him doe eyes.
He opened his eyes and when he saw the way you were looking at him, knelt down in front of him all needy, he lost it: he needed to have you right there and then.
Mason’s brown eyes got covered in lust as he got back in the water and placed his hands on your hips to lift you on the step where he was sitting earlier.
He spread your legs open so he could start devouring your pussy as if his life depended on it. His tongue sucked, his teeth nibbled at your lips and his lips left small kisses all around: it was perfect.
“Oh yes Mase…I missed you” You whined, pushing your hips against his mouth. 
He let out a satisfied moan as he was pleased to give you such a good time. His tongue stopped licking your skin the moment he shifted it inside of you.
"Yes baby yes…fuck me”
The way he ate you out was about to give you your first orgasm but he did the same you did to him: as soon as he felt your juices down his chin he stopped and broke away.
“Mase -”
Mason lifted his weight on his arms to reach your height and whisper a little something to your lips.
“What goes around comes around”
He was too much to take: he was there making fun of you, looking hotter than ever and driving you crazy by being a tease.
Mason sat back in the tub as you straddled him, tangling your arms around his neck and bending your knees so that your feet were resting near his bottom. 
“You’re being a tease, that’s not fair” You cooed in his ear, biting on his earlobe in a playful yet horny.
“You’ve been a tease too and it was a pity I had to stop cause your cum tasted so good…”
A louder desperate groan left your lips, made it even more desperate by the feeling of his fingers dangerously close to your pussy.
The way he was there, looking irresistible, urged you to kiss him feverishly, a messy kiss that left nothing to the imagination.
During your open mothed kiss, Mason pressed his thumb on your clitoris, making you roll your eyes at the back of your head because of the pleasure he was capable of giving you.
Then he wrapped his arms around your waist seconds before entering you.
Your O shaped mouth gave echo to a deep moan, letting him know you were fully ready to feel him inside of you. 
He started rocking his pelvis against yours in a slow but passionate motion. That position was perfect because you could get lost in each other’s eyes while fucking your brains out. Your thrusts were bringing heaven to each one. The hot breath of his panting against your neck and your heavy sighs in his ear made you feel so close, resulting in both of you reaching the climax at the same time. It was a mess but quite a sexy one.
The sex you just had was perfect, so perfect Mason kept his cock inside of you a little more, basking in the pleasurable feeling of laukewarm water as well as the one of your walls still clenched around him.
“Can we do this again after my next game?
“Yeah but in the shower this time…” You groaned, looking at the mess you caused as all the bathroom floor was covered in water. “We made quite a mess”
"Not so fast baby girl" He stopped your attempt of getting out of there, tempting you with the oil massage you put there as he shook the bottle before your eyes "we still have to try this"
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estapa-edwards · 22 days
Text
HAPPY - E.EDWARDS
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paring: Ethan Edwards x fem! reader
word count: 2k
requested? yes - “I want you to be happy,” “I’m happy with you,”with Ethan Edwards! :)
warnings: use of y/n.
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The crisp Michigan air bit at my cheeks as I made my way to the hockey rink. Memories flooded back as I approached the familiar arena, memories of a love lost and a heartache I couldn't forget. It had been months since Ethan and I broke up, but the wounds were still fresh, still raw.
Ethan Edwards. The name alone was enough to send a shiver down my spine. He was the star hockey player for UMich, with a swagger that could make anyone weak in the knees. But behind that cocky smile was a heart that had once belonged to me. A heart I had walked away from.
As I entered the rink, the sound of skates cutting through the ice filled the air. My heart raced as I spotted Ethan on the ice, his every move fluid and graceful. Despite the anger and hurt that still lingered, I couldn't deny the undeniable attraction I still felt for him. 
The game began, and the energy in the arena was electrifying. The opposing team was aggressive, and tensions ran high on the ice. Ethan was in the thick of it all, battling fiercely for control of the puck and defending his teammates with unwavering determination.
Midway through the second period, a scuffle broke out between Ethan and an opposing player. Tempers flared, and before I knew it, fists were flying. The crowd held its breath as Ethan traded blows with his opponent, both players refusing to back down.
The fight was intense, a raw display of passion and aggression. But as the referees intervened and broke up the altercation, it was clear that Ethan had come out on top, defending his honor and proving his loyalty to his team.
The game resumed, and Ethan's performance was nothing short of spectacular. Despite the physicality of the match, he continued to showcase his talent, weaving effortlessly through the opposing team and scoring goal after goal.
As the final buzzer sounded, signaling UMich's hard-fought victory, the crowd erupted into cheers. Ethan's teammates surrounded him, celebrating their win and his standout performance. 
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I waited for my friend Luca outside the locker room, lost in my thoughts and the memories that the hockey rink evoked. As I scanned the crowd, I felt a presence beside me and turned to find Ethan standing there, his eyes searching mine.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Ethan asked, his voice tinged with surprise and uncertainty.
"I wanted to see you play," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.
His eyes searched mine for a moment, filled with a mixture of surprise, longing, and pain. "I've missed you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice breaking. "More than you'll ever know."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I took a shaky breath. "I've missed you too, Ethan," I whispered, the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
He reached out, gently grasping my hand. "Please, Y/N," he pleaded, his eyes filled with longing. "Don't go."
"I want you to be happy," I said softly, my voice trembling with emotion as I looked into Ethan's eyes.
Ethan's grip tightened on my hand, his expression filled with a mixture of love and sadness. "I am happy when I'm with you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I've realized that without you, something has always been missing." 
"You don't mean that. I was never that person for you," I countered, tears blurring my vision as I pulled my hand away, aching from the vulnerability in Ethan's eyes.
Ethan looked stunned, his gaze never leaving mine. "Y/N, you've always been the one for me," he insisted, his voice filled with sincerity. "I thought I could move on, but no one has ever come close to making me feel the way you do."
"I want to explain, Y/N," Ethan began, his voice gentle yet determined. "When I'm on the ice, playing the game I love, I'm in my element. But it's not the same without you. I find myself looking into the stands, hoping to see your face, hoping to share those moments with you. It's not just about the game; it's about sharing my happiness, my successes, and my life with you."
His words touched my heart, breaking down the walls I had built around myself.
"I miss our late-night conversations, the way you laugh at my silly jokes, and the comfort of having you by my side," Ethan continued, his eyes pleading with me to understand. "You make me happy, Y/N, in ways that no one else ever has or ever will." Ethan confessed, his voice soft and filled with raw emotion. "It's not just the big moments or the exciting times. It's the small things, like the way you laugh at my silly jokes, the comfort of your presence, and the simple joy of sharing my life with you. You complete me in a way I never thought possible."
I was overcome with emotion, the weight of his words sinking deep into my heart. A mixture of love, regret, and hope swirled within me.
"Ethan," I began, my voice shaking as tears filled my eyes, "I've been trying to move on, to find happiness without you. But no matter where I go or what I do, I always end up thinking about you. You've always been a part of me, Ethan, and I can't deny that. But I've also realized that I need to find my own happiness, my own path, before I can truly be with you again."
Ethan looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and pain. "I understand, Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want you to be happy, even if that means finding it without me."
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I took a shaky breath, the weight of our shared history and the painful reality of our situation pressing down on me. "Ethan, it's not that I don't want to be with you," I whispered, my voice trembling. "It's just that I need to figure out who I am and what I want, separate from our relationship."
Ethan nodded, his eyes filled with sadness but also a deep understanding. "I respect that, Y/N," he replied, his voice choked with emotion. "Take the time you need. And if, or when, you're ready, I'll be here, waiting for you." 
The weight of Ethan's words and the sincerity in his eyes were almost too much to bear. I took a deep breath, gathering my strength and trying to find the right words to convey my feelings without causing more pain.
"Ethan," I began, wiping away my tears, "I can't thank you enough for understanding. It means everything to me."
He gave me a small, sad smile, "Y/N, I'll always want what's best for you. Even if it's not with me right now, I hope that someday it will be."
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The summer had been a whirlwind of emotions for Y/N. After her heart-to-heart with Ethan at the end of the last school year, she found herself unable to stop thinking about him. Every song on the radio, every sunset, and even the simplest things reminded her of him.
She spent her days working, hanging out with friends, and trying to distract herself from the lingering thoughts of Ethan. But no matter how hard she tried, he was always there, in the back of her mind.
One evening, as she sat on her balcony watching the sunset, Y/N found herself lost in thought. The colors of the sky painted a beautiful picture, but all she could think about was Ethan.
She remembered their late-night conversations, the way he made her laugh, and the warmth of his embrace. She thought about the love they shared and the mistakes they had made. She wondered if they could ever find their way back to each other and make things right.
A soft breeze blew, bringing with it the scent of summer flowers. Y/N closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her, feeling a mixture of sadness and hope.
She knew that she needed to talk to Ethan, to share her feelings and find out if there was still a chance for them. The thought of facing him again was both terrifying and exciting, but she knew it was the only way to move forward.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N made a decision. She would go to Ethan's room and tell him how she felt, no matter the outcome. She couldn't continue to live with the regret of not trying to make things right.
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The leaves had started to change, and there was a crispness in the air that signaled the beginning of a new school year at UMich. Y/N found herself standing in front of Ethan's dormitory building, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart before walking up the steps and knocking on his door.
The door opened, revealing Ethan's surprised yet welcoming face. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Can I come in?" Y/N asked, biting her lip nervously.
"Of course," Ethan replied, stepping aside to let her in.
Y/N walked into Ethan's room, taking a moment to glance around at the familiar surroundings. Memories of their time together flooded back, making her heart ache with longing and love.
Ethan closed the door behind her, his eyes filled with curiosity and concern. "Is everything okay, Y/N?"
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Y/N turned to face Ethan, her eyes filled with determination. "Ethan, I've been doing a lot of thinking and soul-searching over the past year. And I've come to realize something very important."
Ethan looked at her intently, sensing the seriousness of her words. "What is it, Y/N?"
"I love you, Ethan," Y/N declared, her voice trembling with emotion. "I've tried to deny it, to push it away, but I can't escape the truth. I love you, and I want to be with you."
Ethan's eyes widened in shock, his heart racing as he processed Y/N's confession. A flood of emotions washed over him - surprise, joy, relief, and overwhelming love.
"Y/N," Ethan whispered, stepping closer to her, "I've loved you since the moment I met you, and hearing you say that now means everything to me."
Y/N's eyes filled with tears of happiness as Ethan pulled her into his arms, holding her close. The weight of their past mistakes and the uncertainty of the future seemed to melt away, replaced by the love and connection that had always been there.
They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, knowing that they had finally found their way back to each other. The next school year was sure to be filled with new challenges and adventures, but one thing was certain: Ethan and Y/N were meant to be together, and their love story was far from over.
Pulling back slightly, Ethan looked into Y/N's eyes with a soft smile. "I've missed you so much, Y/N. I've dreamt of this moment every day."
Y/N's heart swelled with love and happiness as she brushed a tear from Ethan's cheek. "I've missed you too, Ethan. And I promise, this time, we'll make it work."
Ethan nodded, his eyes shining with love and hope. "I know we will, Y/N. Because no matter what, we have each other. And that's all that matters."
Feeling a surge of joy and contentment, Y/N leaned in and pressed her lips to Ethan's, sealing their love and commitment to each other once more. The kiss was soft, sweet, and full of promise for the future.
As they pulled apart, Ethan wrapped his arms around Y/N, holding her close and resting his chin on her head. They stood there in comfortable silence, savoring the warmth and love of their reunion.
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Took a different take to this idea!
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Hey!
Just read „Mirror Mirror“ and I saw that you‘re still taking requests so here’s something! :))
I saw a fanart of Ascended Astarion smoking and blowing the smoke seductively into Tavs mouth, who’s sitting in his lap and I swear, that’s some hot stuff!
So I‘ve been thinking about Astarion sitting in his study, still all dressed up in a fancy outfit, doing some important paperwork (he is such an important politician now after all) and smoking a cigarette or cigar with a nice glass of whiskey, looking so powerful and then Tav comes in and sees him, finding all of this incredibly hot and takes her rightful place in his lap…. ;)
I see your vision and I respect it. One small change is his outfit is fancyish but a lil on the casual side since he's at home. But still scary prettyman!
TW: Graphic smut, spoilers for the game with embellishments, ascended astarion acting like himself, though in a mild form since this is mostly just banging and fluff.
~
Astarion sighed as he set the paper down, rubbing at his temples as he considered his options. The letter from Mizora was tempting, to say the least. A personal assassin that could materialize out of thin air obviously had its perks. But... the terms were concerning, solely for the fact that they were too simple. A year of her services in exchange for a place to stay in Baldur's Gate, at his home.
He was tempted. But the thought of that devil having such clear access to you was non-negotiable. Especially when he had no insight on her motivations. No, he'd have to find another way to get rid of his political rivals, preferably without getting personally involved. He did so love the heroic image he had cultivated amongst the common folk, one that would be hard to maintain if he was caught with his fangs digging in the nape of the Captain of the Guard.
What a headache.
He leaned back in his chair, thoughtful as he took another drag of his cigarette, his drink in his other hand. No one said that regional domination would be easy. He just wished it wasn't so irritating. Maybe they shouldn't have gotten rid of Gortesh after all, he was a backstabbing little weasel but at least then Astarion wouldn't have to deal with pesky things like ethics. But that was too little too late. It's not like he could un-decapitate the man.
Astarion paused his musings when something started to tickle at the back of his mind. A presence, lurking in the darkness. Astarion smiled to himself as he set his whiskey down, calling out into the black hallway, "I see you over there pet."
Astarion grinned as you came into view, already relaxing at the mere sight of you. You leaned against the doorway, clad in nothing but a thin nightdress. Thin enough for him to nearly be able to see through it, your feet bare. You looked delicious, the perfect distraction from his troubled thoughts.
"Am I disturbing you?" You asked coyly, fully aware that you never could. There you were, the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him. His favorite pet, his most precious treasure. How could you ever disturb him?
Astarion chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, "Would you care?"
"Not particularly," You sighed as you waltzed into the room, "Especially considering how I'm the one who has been kept waiting."
Astarion rolled his eyes, ignoring the little dig as he patted his lap, "Come here my love, let me get a better look at you."
You went easily, settling into his lap with a happy sigh. 
"Such a pretty thing," Astarion murmured as he looked you over, his dick already twitching at the sight of you; your nipples pebbling in the cold air, completely visible through the light cloth. You looked divine. 
Astarion let his hand creep up your thigh, playing with the hem of your short slip as he took another drag. One that he decided to share. Astarion gripped you by the chin, a soft order escaping his lips, “Open up darling.”
You popped your mouth right open, so obedient it made his heart sing. He breathed the smoke into your lungs, pressing a barely there kiss against your lips before he pulled back; happy to see the way your pupils were already dilated. 
"What are you doing out of bed my sweet?" Astarion asked, only a touch of discontentment coloring his voice. You knew how he felt about you wandering around at night, even in your own home. He liked to know where you were at all times, no ifs, ands, or buts. Though… looking over you once more, he supposed he could make an exception.
"No reason in particular," You said, an obvious lie. One that Astarion would be able to parse out even if he didn't have full access to your mind. It wasn't helping that you were already squirming in his lap, seemingly trying your best to discreetly arouse him even more.
Astarion set his cigarette down on the ashtray, moving to run his free hand through your hair before gripping it harshly, chuckling at the way it made you gasp.
"We talked about lying pet," Astarion murmured, the hand in your hair tightening, "Unless you're looking for a punishment?"
"Maybe I just missed you," You tried again, your breath already quickening. Astarion wouldn't be surprised if you were already dripping into your panties. You did love it when he got rough.
Besides, at least that was closer to the truth.
Astarion's hand crept further up your leg, caressing your inner thigh as you shuddered, "Have I been neglecting you pet? How inconsiderate of me. But I did warn you that it would be a busy week."
"But you seem tired," You mumbled, leaning in to start kissing up the line of his throat, your hands running up and down his chest, "You've been working so hard lately. Don't you think you've earned a break?"
"Kingdoms don't build themselves darling," Astarion shot back half-heartedly. But you both knew he was already sold. You had won the second you came into view, "But perhaps I could be convinced. Did you have something in mind?"
"Mm, I'm not sure," You said, like you weren't the one grinding your perfect ass against him like a whore, "But I'm sure we can think of something."
That was enough of the coy act. Astraion wretched your head back without warning, sinking his fangs into your neck. Perhaps you could have done with a warning, not that it would have mattered. He had earned the right to do with you as he pleased. You yelped at the unexpected pain but he could taste your arousal on his tongue, spiked through your blood. To this day it continued to be the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.
Astarion popped off of you with a smirk, near giddy at seeing that hazy look already in your eyes. He trailed bloody kisses up your throat, "Good girls ask for what they want, don't they? Unless you're looking for a punishment."
You were nearly panting as you writhed in his lap, frustrated desperation seeping into your voice when you begged, "Fuck me? Please?"
It was a good start, but Astarion knew that you could do better. He laughed, his voice rough as his fangs scraped against your delicate skin, "I think you can try harder than that, darling."
You were gripping at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you whimpered, "Please my love? I’ve missed you all day. Don’t make me wait any longer."
“Have I been neglecting you, my treasure?” Astarion murmured, his hand trailing down from your hair, moving to slip the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders. 
“You have,” You whined as he tugged on your dress, watching with rapt attention as he let it fall. He wasted no time in leaning forward to wrap his lips around your nipple; tasting you as you whimpered, “I-please Astarion. I need you inside me. It aches without you, I can’t take it. Please.”
Perfect words from perfect lips. That was the end of his manufactured patience. Astarion was already tearing your nightgown off completely, rendering it to tatters as he feasted on you with his eyes. He could buy you another, one in every color if you wished. But for now it was just in the way. 
He lifted you up onto the desk, ignoring your surprised gasp as you set you on the edge. His eyes were already narrowing downward, your cunt bare and glistening before him. 
Astarion ran his finger up the seam of it, grinning when he realized you were already dripping, “No panties tonight darling? Naughty girl."
"You don't like it?" You coyly asked as you worked to undo his belt, making quick work of getting his cock out, “I figured it was more economical to not let you tear apart everything I own.”
Astarion laughed as he spread your legs further apart, clever fingers working over your clit as you moaned, “Perhaps we should forget about clothing entirely then for you. It certainly would be more convenient.”
A complete bluff, one obvious enough to make you giggle. Though, it was a fun thought, one that Astarion would actually consider entertaining if he wasn’t so self-aware. No, it would take less than a day for him to rip out the eyes of the entire staff for seeing you like this, gorgeous, bare, and his. 
Your hands were shaking as you rubbed the head of him over your folds, your head thrown back as you moaned. He pushed into you hard and fast, groaning at how wonderfully soaked and tight you felt. There truly was nothing better. He gripped your hips, hard enough to bruise as you pulled you on and off his cock; your eyes rolling back into your head at the impressive display of strength. 
“T-Thank you, thank you,” You mewled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him down closer, “Feels good. So good. Love you so much.”
Astarion couldn’t help but smile at that, feeling just as lovesick and obsessed as the day he made you his. There really was nothing better than this, making love to the brightest part of his soul. You clinging onto him for dear life as he fucked into you, completely uncaring for the books and papers he was spilling onto the floor. Whispering sweet nothings into his ear, your legs wrapped around him; always trying to pull him closer.  
He wasn’t going to last long like this. But he’d be damned if you didn’t reach your peak first. He snaked a hand between the two of you, roughly rubbing circles onto your clit before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. 
You gasped as he played with you, your pussy clenching around him as you came. It felt divine, the perfect sensation to tip him right over the edge, coming deeply inside you while he panted into your mouth.
"I love you," You whispered against his lips, your voice still slurring as your body twitched from the aftershocks, “Love you so much.”
You were running your fingers through his hair as you lazily kissed each other, holding him so closely that it made his heart sing. 
“I love you too pet,” Astarion murmured back, meaning every word, “More than you’ll ever know.”
"Tired now,” You sighed as your nails pleasantly scratched his scalp, “Carry me upstairs?"
Astarion was already hefting you into his arms before you could finish the question, tucking himself back into his pants before lifting you up completely, "Of course my love."
As he walked you upstairs, Astarion was struck with the realization that he could barely remember what he had been worried about in the first place. He smiled to himself as you cuddled against his chest, leaning in to press a light kiss to your hair. 
You always knew just what he needed.
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seiya-starsniper · 25 days
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Last Line Tag Game
Having been tagged by everyone under the sun (@five-and-dimes, @amielot @tj-dragonblade @lenreli @im-not-corrupted are the ones I can see, I'm sorry if I missed anyone else!), I present to you all, more of the same WIP, my omegaverse forced marriage fic which is now over 8k words and only halfway done lmao.
“Look I’d rather we not fight before I leave,” Robert says. “I’m sorry we haven’t spoken much lately, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”  “Leave?” Dream asks, ignoring the only apology he’s ever received from the alpha. “Where are you going?” he demands, grip tightening on his silverware. His meal suddenly tastes like ash in his mouth. “Ah, damn,” Robert curses. “I meant to—it doesn't matter. I've been called away to manage an overseas contract. I'll be gone for a while,” he answers, resigned, as if this is something he cannot help. But Dream knows better. Ever since their marriage, Robert has been the golden child of his parents’ business again, which means the alpha was offered this job. Had willingly accepted it. All to get away from Dream.  “How long is a while?” Dream nearly shrieks, his voice pitching higher and higher as Robert’s words sink in. “Were you planning to even say goodbye, or was I supposed to learn of your departure from the staff?” Robert snorts, and Dream wants to throw his knife and fork at him.  “Does it matter?” the alpha asks with a hint of a sneer in his tone. “You hardly notice I'm here, and you spend all your time in your wing of the house.” “Because you never bother to seek me out in the first place!” Dream growls. He’s angry now. Livid even. He doesn’t know why. Robert leaving should be a blessing. Dream would have the house to himself, could decorate as he pleases, would not have to walk on eggshells to hide his pregnancy. But somehow, the thought of the house being truly empty, devoid even of its owner, rankles something in Dream and makes him feel as though he is being abandoned.
Enjoy the angst! :3
Tagging @softest-punk @moorishflower @teejaystumbles @pumpkinkingsalem @arialerendeair and anyone else who wants to play!
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lets-try-some-writing · 3 months
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Someplace Peaceful
In the peace of the forest, Bumblebee has a chance to think and enjoy a few small comforts.
(Enjoy the Bee angst)
━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙
“Sire! You’re here!” Bumblebee shot to his pedes, his door wings fluttering in excitement as his Sire appeared in the clearing, breaking the silence of the forest. Light shone through gaps in the techtite trees and distantly the rustling of solarium bushes and other flora comforted Bumblebee’s spark, easing its anxious spin. He didn’t know why he was so unsettled, but everything was so much calmer now that his Sire was there.
“Are you having fun?” Optimus smiled and dropped to a knee, brushing aside copper bladed stem growths in order to allow Bumblebee to run into his arms. Bumblebee laughed as he did his best to wrap his small arms around his Sire’s far larger frame. Everything was right with the world now. The strange feeling of wrong that had settled in his mind vanished as Optimus’s powerful arms encompassed him, shielding him from any danger imaginable.
“Yes! This place is so pretty!” Bumblebee grinned as various mechanimals chirped and chattered beyond the edge of the glade. He gestured to the sunny clearing, smiling widely as his optics took in the countless fragile flowers all tinted green and red from the copper that coursed through them. A stream ran somewhere nearby, adding a gentle undertone to the perfectly serene atmosphere.
It was safe, it was secure. While it had been odd before, with his Sire beside him, it felt like home. He could hardly contain his excitement as he took his Sire’s servo, doing his best to get a grip on one of Optimus’s far larger digits.
“Come sit here! This is my favorite spot!” There was one large techtite tree in the center of the clearing, its long winding branches shifting in the gentle breeze. Bumblebee hurriedly urged his Sire on, pointing gleefully toward a nook within the base of the tree just large enough for him and his Sire to sit against. Optimus smiled and obliged, bending down a bit so Bumblebee could comfortably hold his digit.
He was quick to settle down and eagerly watched as his Sire did the same. The metallic leaves of the techtite tree brushed against one another softly, creating a quiet chime that could have lulled Bumblebee into recharge if it weren’t for the presence of one of his Primary Caretakers.
“I thought you might appreciate this place.” Optimus spoke softly, breaking the reverie that had fallen over the area. Bumblebee appreciated it, the unsettling feeling returned whenever it was quiet for too long. His frame felt somewhat cold despite the rays that had beat down on him but a moment earlier. It was strange, he didn’t like it.
“Really? How come?” Bumblebee questioned curiously as he clambered up his Sire’s thigh to sit on his lap. Optimus seemed bigger than he remembered, but then again, Bumblebee was a very small bot to begin with. He didn’t question the extra bulk on his Sire’s frame, not when Optimus’s optics glinted, cycling in on Bumblebee fondly before turning toward the landscape.
“This is where I grew up. These forests shielded me throughout my youth.” As if sensing Optimus’s words, a technohawk flew above, cawing in victory as it flew past. Bumblebee gawked in awe, his door wings once again aflutter as he tried to ignore the strange creeping cold. It was starting to get uncomfortable.
“What did you do here? Did you play games?” Bumblebee settled on asking as Optimus picked him up and rearranged him more comfortably on the Prime’s lap. His Sire’s frame rumbled in contentment and Bumblebee couldn’t help but purr happily in response, his helm butting against Optimus’s torso since he couldn’t reach the Prime’s helm. Optimus laughed lightly, and it was one of the most comforting things Bumblebee had ever heard as it sent all worries about the chill fleeing from his mind.
“I did. I was fond of climbing the trees and playing in the solvent stream on the cycles that it was not guarded by the mechanimals of the deep wood.” His Sire’s field was gentle as it wrapped around Bumblebee, comforting and as soft as the comforter his Nurturer made for him when he was small. 
“I like collecting the rocks and chasing the glowing things.” Bumblebee exclaimed, quickly looking around and pointing toward several glowing insects fluttering merrily across the clearing, moving from flower to flower. Their wings were wide and almost crystalline, coming in every conceivable shade and hue. No two insects were the same, and they created a soft multicolored glow as the light in the sky began to fade, making way for dusk.
“Those are Polyhexian cog-moths. They only appear during a very specific time of the vorn. It is said that they symbolize good times to come.” His Sire held Bumblebee a little tighter, his digits running along his helm fondly. Bumblebee made a short chortle, a mix between a chirp and a purr without meaning to. Optimus merely smiled again, his field continuing to sink into Bumblebee’s very protoform. It chased away the cold.
“I like them. I wish I could live in this forest like you did.” Bumblebee added as he watched the moths from within his Sire’s arms. They glittered like jewels in the light of the nearest star. The forest was so very peaceful. He wanted to stay. Things would be even better if his Nurturer were there as well, hopefully with a snack and a song. He always liked it when his Sire held him and his Nurturer sang.
“It’s so calm here. Why did you leave?” His question hung in the air for a long moment, and for a brief nanoklik, Optimus’s field flared in sorrow. Concerned, Bumblebee turned away from where the moths still glowed and looked up to where the shade of the tree now darkened his Sire’s face.
“I had to grow up eventually, my little warrior. Primus had plans for me.” Optimus ran his digits between Bumblebee’s door wings comfortingly, but his smile was dimmer now. Bumblebee ran through the potential reasons why his Sire could be upset in a worried frenzy, but nothing seemed to make sense. Perhaps his Sire didn’t want Bumblebee to have to leave the forest? It was a possibility that could be probable.
“Does that mean I need to leave here too?” Again he asked a question, and once more, Optimus remained silent for a worrying length of time. Bumblebee’s spark flared in momentary fear as the cold caused his digits to twitch. Something was wrong. He couldn’t place it, but it was wrong.
“Soon, yes. But you will go somewhere better.” Optimus quickly noticed Bumblebee’s growing fear and drew him tight against his chassis. Bumblebee squeaked at the sudden movement but settled in quickly as his Sire basked him in his field with even more ferocity, once more chasing away the cold.
“There’s somewhere better? Have you ever been there?” He asked with wide worried optics. He didn’t want to leave his Sire. Was that why Optimus was so sad looking? Was it because Bumblebee had to leave?
“You have many questions today, dear one.” His Sire noted in a gentle whisper, his optics distant and his expression edging into a frown. Bumblebee deflated, his door wings falling and his helm coming to rest against his Sire’s chassis in regret. He hadn’t meant to make his Sire sad about anything.
“Sorry.” He mumbled as he felt his Sire’s powerful spark from where it was hidden behind layers and layers of armor. Sometimes Bumblebee wondered if his Sire ever took any of the armor off. It had to be heavy.
“Never apologize for curiosity. I will gladly answer your questions.” Optimus’s voice climbed a chord higher and his expression was forcefully brightened. It seemed strained, although Bumblebee was not entirely sure why he thought so. Optimus was smiling, that was a good thing right?
“I have only seen a glimpse of the place you will soon go, but I know it is sacred.” The light faded a little more as Bumblebee tilted his helm in confusion. Somewhere better than the forest that was sacred? Was he going to go to a sacred forest or something? 
“Is it a temple? Temples are pretty and the incense smells nice, but they are really boring.” Bumblebee’s face scrunched up in a frown as he recalled the last time he had to go to a temple. The service was nice enough, but there wasn’t much to do and his Nurturer constantly had to remind him to be quiet when Optimus had to get up and do whatever rite was on the agenda.
Optimus, seeing Bumblebee’s expression, laughed lightly before his gaze darkened once more.
“No, you will go to no temple. Instead you will go…” His Sire gazed out at the encroaching darkness, his optics uncertain and strange. Bumblebee felt the ghost of a memory play in his mind, a recollection of his Sire covered in energon, watching on in horror as a city burned. The memory passed as quickly as it came, and Bumblebee could only cling to his Sire in the hopes that whatever was happening wouldn’t come near him where he was safe.
“Someplace peaceful.” The Prime settled on saying, prompting Bumblebee to reach up, and with all the power in his small body, clamber his way up to touch his Sire’s face.
“Will you be coming with me?” He asked quietly, a little afraid of the answer.
“I do believe I will join you soon enough. But there are still a few loose ends that I must see to.” Optimus leaned in, the crest of his helm touching Bumblebee’s in a comforting manner. It eased his worries, but the presence of his Sire no longer fully drowned out the chill that was infecting his limbs. Distantly, Bumblebee was sure he should be afraid. However, he felt no need to react, at least not with more than the mild fear that already weighed down his spark.
Soon, he was going to go somewhere else. His Sire had told him as much. What reason would his Sire have to remain behind if the place was better than the forest? Bumblebee could only think of one possibility, and he dearly hoped that the temporary separation was the cause of his Sire’s sorrow. Distance could be rectified, Bumblebee could always stay behind if he needed to.
Although, a part of his processor not enthralled with the world around him told a different tale. The chill was spreading. He would be going somewhere, and he did not think it would be too long now.
“Oh, I get it. Nurturer would probably be worried if you didn’t bring him as well. Just don’t take too long getting him alright? I don’t want you to leave again for too long. Megatron might get you.” Ratchet always got worried when Optimus left him alone. Bumblebee didn’t want his Nurturer to be upset. It made sense that his Sire would be a little late to follow Bumblebee if he needed to get Ratchet. 
That had to be the reason he looked so sad. It made sense, and the answer resonated with his spark in a way that was momentarily unsettling.
“Ratchet will come all in good time. From what I have divined, he still has much to do on his own. But do not concern yourself with Megatron. He won’t harm me, Bumblebee.” His Sire ran his digits along the crest of Bumblebee’s helm yet again. However this time it was not quite as comforting. The world around him was still lush, but the fading light seemed to make things seem different, less… right.
Worry sat heavy in his spark chamber, and all he could do was lean ever closer to the mech who kept him steady all throughout his life, hoping that his fears were misplaced and that everything would be alright.
“He’s hurt you before.” Bumblebee found himself murmuring as memories returned to his mind. Images of a burning world, black skies, and countless unhonored and unburied dead. The lush forest broke in a mess of glitches and pixelation, revealing what his mind told him was the truth. He whimpered and clutched at his helm as the sight faded and the forest returned. He didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to believe.
“He won’t be able to any longer. A hero struck him down.” His Sire gently pulled Bumblebee’s servos away from his helm, and joy swiftly overcame everything else as the world returned to the equilibrium Bumblebee needed. There were no burning cities here. His vocalizer did not burn. Red optics did not glare down at him as he bled out on the ground. He was safe with his Sire.
“Someone actually stopped him? That’s amazing! Who was the hero?” Bumblebee exclaimed, his focus entirely on his Sire as day faded to night. The leaves of the tree glinted as the sunset painted them gold and the copper growths glinted and shone. Warm winds caressed Bumblebee’s frame, and he couldn’t help but sigh in relief as Optimus answered.
“A young warrior serving directly under me. It was our final battle against Megatron, and despite being mortally wounded, he took up my blade as Megatron tried to strike me down.” Optimus did not smile as he spoke, instead his optics glinted with unshed tears, his gaze glued on Bumblebee as he listened with rapt attention.
“And with strength far eclipsing that of any Prime, past or present, he drove my blade through Megatron’s spark chamber, ending his life and saving mine.”  Bumblebee smiled, but it was a soft thing. It felt… wrong to laugh or cheer. His Sire held him as though he were the greatest gift in the world even as he told the tale of the death of the one mech who served as Cybertron’s boogeyman. His focus was off, his attention diverted.
Optimus was grieving, although Bumblebee did not yet know what.
“That warrior, you said he was wounded…” His vocalizer rang out softly, momentarily shifting into binary tones that felt just as familiar as his usual voice. It did not unsettle him even as Optimus’s expression fell and true sorrow settled on his face. His Sire’s optics were always very expressive. Bumblebee could see clearly just how much his Primary Caretaker was hurting, and he had a feeling there was very little he could do about it.
“Is he alright now?” Bumblebee settled on asking as tears began to fall from his Sire’s optics. Optimus never cried, and in Bumblebee’s living memory, the Prime had only shed tears once over the loss of Elita-1 and the city of Rodion. All he could do was reach up and wipe his Sire’s tears away, allowing Optimus to nuzzle against his servo as he did so. 
“He will be soon. Even as we speak, he is being relieved from his suffering.” Optimus managed a grim and sad smile that left Bumblebee more concerned than ever before. This felt more and more like farewell, and while he knew deep in his spark that he would indeed have to leave soon… his Sire was reacting as if they might never meet again. That couldn’t be right. Optimus didn’t need to cry.
“That’s good. I want to meet the warrior who saved you and cut down the slagmaker himself!” Bumblebee tried to lighten the mood even as the last of the nearest star’s light faded, leaving only the glowing veins of the flora around them to light the area. Stars shone above, and faintly Bumblebee recognized several constellations he had never been able to see with his own optics due to smog and smoke. 
“Next time I will protect you Sire! Do you think I can convince the hero to teach me how to fight once he’s all better?” Bumblebee threw his arms in the air even as Optimus continued to hold him tight against him. The Prime did not smile, despite Bumblebee’s efforts to try and cheer him up in an attempt to ignore the creeping cold that now climbed his limbs.
Why was it so cold?
“Perhaps.” His Sire murmured into the night, his optics locked on the constellations above as he began to hum a soft tune. Bumblebee followed his gaze before his attention returned to the Prime. The tune was sad yet comforting, a slight trill in Optimus’s vocalizer giving away sorrow so spark deep that even a Prime could not fully suppress it.
“You seem sad Sire. Is something wrong?” Bumblebee at last found himself wondering aloud. Optimus merely shook his helm, an obvious lie.
“No, I merely missed you. The battle tired me, and your absence has hurt my spark.” Memory flashed across Bumblebee’s optics, showing his Sire reaching out to him in desperation, his optics wide and horrified. Then, as quickly as it came, it faded. Bumblebee sat still in his Sire’s arms, finally starting to sense the creeping chill for what it was.
“I am glad to be with you now, at least until you must go on your way.” Optimus’s words broke Bumblebee from his grim reverie. He reached out, grasping at his Sire’s digits until the Prime brought his servo close enough for Bumblebee to cling to. His Sire’s digits smelt like soot and plasma, just like they always had. It was a small comfort.
“I don’t want to leave you alone to be sad. Being sad and alone is terrible.” Optimus’s other servo came to support his back as Bumblebee curled up tightening against his Sire. He didn’t want to be alone in the place that he was soon to go. He wanted to stay, if only for his Caretakers. Optimus was already so sad. He didn’t want to think about how hurt Ratchet would be when Bumblebee finally left.
“Your presence lessens my sorrow, my sweet Bee. Stay with me a while, and when the dawn comes, then go on your way. I believe it will not be long until I shall soon follow.” The clearing was silent, with only the faint rustling of leaves to break the quiet of the night. Bumblebee found then that he could no longer feel the tips of his digits, nor his pedes. It was becoming harder to move, and faintly, he sensed his thoughts starting to slow.
"I'm going away for a long time aren't I?" His voice called out into the darkness, far older and far wiser than he remembered it being. Static laced his glyphs, but he knew the voice that spoke was his own. It was the voice that he would have spoken with if Megatron had not taken it from him.
"Yes." His Sire answered simply, his words coming out in a broken croak. Bumblebee understood now.
"Will Nurturer be fine?" He questioned as he gazed at the stars above, doing his best to relish in the comfort of his Sire’s touch while it lasted. He didn’t want to look at the clearing, what brief glimpse he managed showed him that his little paradise was breaking down. The forest was falling away and darkness creeping in. Only the skies remained constant.
"With time." Optimus reassured solemnly. They both knew Ratchet would suffer greatly at this loss. Bumblebee could only hope that in the end, his Nurturer would be able to move on.
"What about you?" He glanced toward his Sire, watching as the branches of the techtite tree glitched in and out of existence. It would not be long now.
"We shall meet again soon enough." A memory came to his mind yet again. Megatron stood in front of him, grinning madly as he drove a blade through Bumblebee’s spark chamber. Optimus screamed from where he struggled to his pedes. The rest of the team watched in horror as he fell. And later, as he dragged his dying frame up using what little time he was afforded by the cybermatter, they stared in awe as he dealt the finishing blow.
Faint pain emanated from his chassis as he remembered. He touched his chassis plating on instinct, feeling the remnants of the wound. Optimus was quick to press a kiss to the crest of his helm, a gentle confirmation of what he now knew to be true.
"That hero... did he fight well?" Tears fell from his optics as he sniffled, his door wings dipping down. His Sire hummed cradled him as if he were still a sparkling, the Prime’s frame serving as his final safe haven as the artificial world around him crumbled to pixels and code.
"He did. He was by far the greatest warrior I've ever had the honor to fight beside." Bumblebee managed a faint smile as Optimus’s knowing optics bore into his own. Bumblebee had fought well. He had done good.
“Could you sing me a song?” He made his final request as the chill crept ever closer to where his spark fluttered, weakening even as he felt no pain. He didn’t want things to end like this, but…
At least there was a goodbye.
“Gladly.” Optimus rocked him gently, the Prime’s voice calming like a brook on a sunny cycle. Bumblebee didn’t want to leave, but he allowed himself to smile as his spark flared in affection and love, both his Caretakers reaching out to calm him. Within a klik, a song played in the darkness, the voice of his Sire ringing out clearly. Ratchet’s voice joined the chorus before long, and with what time remained, Bumblebee felt both his Sire and his Nurturer pressed against him, their arms wrapping around his small frame with all the love in the world.
Their adoring song followed him as the chill took its toll and darkness fully claimed him.
━━━━━━
“Sir, it’s time to begin disengaging.” Arcee alerted in the relative silence of the Nemesis’s medical bay. Ratchet wanted to hiss as he frantically continued running through programs, algorithms, and life support systems in an attempt to keep his sparkling alive for a klik longer.
“His processor activity is halting. It won’t be long now.” Ultra Magnus remarked calmly as he looked over Ratchet’s shoulder at the readings. Ratchet snarled and swatted at the commander before he acknowledged the beeping of Bumblebee’s life support, a warning of what was to come.
“No! There must be more time! This can’t be it! I just need more time and I can-!” Ratchet flew toward the console, pulling at wires and desperately trying to work through tears. There wasn’t enough power, and Bumblebee was too weak to survive being put into stasis. He needed Cybertronian medicine, he needed his students and an immediate spark transfer or else-
“That’s enough. Let his last memory not be of fear.” Optimus shattered any illusion Ratchet had of completing his task successfully as the Prime’s voice cut through all else. Optimus turned from where he sat at the edge of Bumblebee’s berth, his processor connected to their sparkling’s. The Prime did not look up, the vacancy in his gaze far more telling than any words could hope to be.
The wounds were too much. The cybermatter had been a temporary fix, a bandage over a stab wound. Bumblebee’s spark chamber was irreparably damaged, at least with their current materials. He was only hanging on by a thread, and despite Ratchet’s best efforts, it had reached the point where there was little he could do but try to keep Bumblebee calm. The team all knew that this was the end for him. It was the only reason Optimus had been allowed to perform a psychic patch in the first place.
“Optimus, do you want us to leave?” Bulkhead placed a servo on the Prime’s shoulder. Ratchet felt his servos shake as Optimus nodded once, his gaze never leaving Bumblebee’s prone frame. The team were quick to comply with Optimus’s wish, each of them filing out of the room quietly. Smokescreen lingered a moment, but he too turned and left after sensing the tension in the air.
Only once all was silent, did Optimus speak.
“He has asked for a song.” Ratchet felt his spark break as his Conjunx looked up for the first time, a few silent tears falling from his optics as he held out another connector. Ratchet bit back a sob as he stepped forward and accepted the connector, staring at it through vision blurred with tears.
“Come, sing with me. He deserves to have us both by his side.” Optimus grasped his servo, squeezing it gently. Ratchet could sense how his Conjunx’s servos shook minutely too. This was it, their last goodbye to their precious sparkling. 
Ratchet reset his vocalizer once and then interested the connector into the port at the back of his helm, lifting the protective plating to reveal it. He did not move as his vision changed and the world fell away. He could still feel his frame distantly, but he did not hesitate to join Optimus within the flickering memory of the forest of Helex and settle down to cradle their little one a final time.
Bumblebee’s form flickered along with the memory, his consciousness fading fast. However as Ratchet wrapped his arms around both his Conjunx and sparkling, he put all his spark into singing their song. Optimus’s deep rumbling voice joined Ratchet’s similarly gruff one in a strange symphony that lasted until Bumblebee smiled and the program collapsed.
Ratchet was thrust back into his frame harshly, and all he could do was gasp in agony as his mind reeled from the rejection. Bumblebee’s life support screeched, its systems blaring before it fell silent. A nanoklik later, Bumblebee’s exposed spark flared once more and then puttered out, his frame succumbing to the wounds afflicting it. 
“I’m so sorry Bumblebee. I’m sorry I couldn’t fix this.” Ratchet reached out, pressing the crest of his helm to Bumblebee’s lifeless frame as tears blurred his vision. He choked, an ugly sob building in his throat as he ran his digits along the grooves of his precious sparkling’s face. The face he would never again see light up in joy.
“Primus has called him home… and I do not believe he will be alone for long.” Optimus placed a servo on his shoulder, pulling Ratchet’s attention away as he straightened. His spark burned with the loss of their sparkling, and it only hurt more as he registered both the words and the fact that Optimus was walking away.
“Optimus? What are you-?” Ratchet called out in bewilderment as the Prime halted in the doorway, his expression stone cold.
“There is work to be done. He must be laid to rest, and soon the Allspark must be recovered.” Ratchet was never a mech to be angry at Optimus for long, but with his spark feeling as though it were torn asunder, rage pooled where the mark of their sparkling had once lain. Their sparkling was dead and Optimus was already off to war. They won at the cost of their most precious gift. Did he have no sympathy? No love?
“Can’t you take a moment to feel! Our sparkling is DEAD and you are already discussing our next course of action?!” Ratchet burst out, his field flaring in distress and rage. So many vorns fighting, so many lost lives. Yet still Optimus marched ever on with the same brutal outward apathy he regarded all losses with. Could he not spare a mere moment to grieve?
“Our battle has not yet ended. Hate me if you must, but until the cycle my frame is returned to the ground of our homeworld, I must continue on.” The Prime replied after a moment’s hesitation, his optics flashing as though he were viewing something far off. Frag the Matrix and its visions. Ratchet wished he could tear the accursed relic out of Conjunx’s chassis if only so that Optimus would take the time to grieve like the rest of them.
“Grieve as you will. I must speak to Wheeljack.” Without another word, Optimus turned and left, his usually open bond to Ratchet shut down tight. The door closed behind him, and all Ratchet could do was turn and lean over Bumblebee’s frame, clutching the edge of the medical berth as he was left totally and completely alone. 
There was no comfort to be found amongst the dead. But Ratchet did not move as he again reached out to run his digits along the already graying crest of Bumblebee’s helm.
“Forgive me Bumblebee…”
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ardorwritesfanfic · 10 months
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Worship || Oliver Aiku
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A/N: ever since I got to the Japan U-20 game in the manga, this man has been on my mind. He literally won’t leave 😩.
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Fboy!Oliver, body worship, oral (fem!receiving), alludes to penetrative sex, Oliver has a tongue ring, mostly just fboy turned softboy Oliver lolol.
"No" is not a word that Oliver was used to. In fact, no one has ever dared to deny the man anything. He was used to getting everything he wanted. Any other person he wanted, he had them, no questions asked. Until you.
You were the only person to ever deny him. It took a hell of a long time for him to get you exactly where he wanted, but even now as you both strip yourselves of your clothes, you deny him. You force him to take things at your pace instead of his. He hadn't even touched you yet, but all he could think about was you. All you had to do was strip, and you had him wrapped around your finger. He liked playing with you this way. He wanted to win you, to earn the right to touch you. Goddammit he was going to earn it, he practically begged for it.
So there he sat, with your hand gripping his hair, forcing his face away from your heated core. His eyes were laced with list as he leaned his cheek on your thigh. “Please, princess, let daddy have a taste~” he purred, licking his lips. You scoffed, keeping your hand firmly in his hair. He whined, feeling his cock harden at your lack of regard for his wants. His large hands slid up your thighs, as a smirk spread across his face. “You look so beautiful, princess. Your thighs are perfect, and your cunt… looks divine.” He purred, his words sending shockwaves to your core.
A blush danced across your face, as you turned your head away from him. “D-Don’t think you can use your pretty words to get what you want. You’re going at my pace, remember?” You hummed. Oliver chuckled, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. He looked up at you, his eyes soft. It was a look you had never seen from him before.
“We’ll go at your pace, I promise.” He spoke, almost in a whisper. In that moment, a wave of trust washed over you. Your hand let go of his hair, and you waited with anticipation for his next move. Oliver placed loving, delicate kisses up your thigh, before pressing a kiss to your core. You whined at the feeling, blush growing darker. Oliver’s hand traveled up, intertwining his fingers with yours. He gave you a reassuring squeeze, before dipping his tongue inside you.
He lapped at your aching walls, flicking his tongue in and out of you. You felt a cool metal ball massage your walls. That fucking tongue ring! You moaned with pleasure, gripping his hair and pulling him closer to you. His one hand stayed interlocked with yours, rubbing the back of your hand. The other, slid up your leg to caress the skin of your hip. Everything about his approach was gentle, seeming to savor every last taste you could give him. You could feel yourself begin to grind on his face, before he stilled your hips altogether. He detached himself from you, breathing heavily. "You are... gorgeous." He muttered, his face covered in your juices. "I've never seen a body this beautiful." The hand that rested on your hip made its way over to your pelvis. He looked up at you before asking, "Do you want me to rub your clit?"
You blushed at the statement, not quite sure how to go about answering. You nodded shyly, before tugging his hair, signaling that you wanted him to continue. Gently, he brushed his thumb over your sensitive bud, gauging your reaction. You gasped at the sensation, covering your mouth. Oliver chuckled, before returning to bury his face in your pussy. His tongue massaged your insides, using the metal tongue ring to skillfully trigger all of your sweet spots. It was heaven. Your hips grinded against his face, feeling the stimulation from his tongue and his thumb become too much to bear. "O-Oh shit, Oli, I'm gon-nah gonna cum!" You cried. Oliver grinned into your cunt, letting your ride his face as he continued tongue fucking you.
His pace quickened, encouraging you to orgasm. The pleasure continued to build inside you, until the tension in your lower abdomen snapped. With a loud, sinful moan, you let yourself go, riding Oliver's face as you came. Oliver's hands helped to stabilize you, keeping you grounded as your orgasm rippled through you. Once he lapped up your juices, he detached from you, climbing up on the bed to hover over you. He rubbed your sides, waiting for your next move. Your hands moved to grab his face, and you pulled him into a searing kiss. You then parted, taking this chance to catch your breath.
Oliver smiled down at you, leaning down to whisper words of encouragement. "You were so good, baby. You taste so good, I never want to taste anyone else again. You're my goddess divine." He chuckled as your blush darkened, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His sincere smile soon turned to a cheeky one, as he leaned down and said "Now I need to please you with my dick, like a real goddess~"
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windsweptinred · 1 year
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Camellia, " My destiny is in your hands."
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(The Garden of Forking Ways, two brothers sit together amongst the verdant trees and ruined archways)
"My answer remains the same as it always was and ever shall be Dream. I will not read ahead. Not even for you my younger brother. And especially not for such frivolous reasons."
Dream glared in indignation , bitting back the angry retort on the tip of his tounge. One he'd readily unleash on any, save his eldest sibling. Releasing a frustrated breath, he gathered his thoughts, attempting to quickly reform his argument. Mainly addressing how he and Destiny's opinion on what was deemed frivolous, varied quite dramatically. He stopped short when he noticed his brother close his eyes, eyelids tightened, brows furrowed and tense. An action, for any other then Destiny he surmised...Would have them rubbing at their eyes in pursuit of some relief.
"You are tired Destiny?"
Destiny sighed deeply before straitening, heaving his book closed. "The universe weighs heavy in my hands little brother. As it's consciousness must also bear down upon you. It cannot be helped. It is our duty."
Dream's gaze lingered on the gleaming cuff that bound his brothers wrist. Before reaching out instinctively for the great book resting in his brother lap, fingers stopping a hair's breadth from it.
"If it was only possible, I would carry your burdern for you my brother. Even if all I could offer was a moments reprieve."
Destiny rose, looking down upon his little brother. A slight frown marring his lips. The clang of his ominous chain loud in the silence.
"You have a kind heart brother mine. And I pray fate shall not punish you for it. Would that I was permitted a free hand, I would carry pouch, jewel and helm so you could play freely about my gardens...As an eldest ought. But it is not so."
At that, Dream stood at his brothers side, laying a hand gently upon his forearm. "I would not ask it of you even if it was so. I try always to follow your footsteps big brother, and fulfill the responsibilities of my office without qualm."
For a brief moment, Dream thought he saw a look of deep resignation pass over Destiny's face. Before he schooled his features and nodded in acknowledgement of his brothers words.
" Walk with me a while, sweet phantasia. "
Dream startled softly, "It has been an age since you have called me that brother."
"Indeed. Perhaps then, we should indulge in another long since pasttime. Shall you and I play a game of pretend Dream?"
Dream stared blatantly at Destiny, mouth agape, mystified. An act that he swore seemed to greatly amuse the other. Not that his brother so much as quriked his lip. With his free hand, Destiny reached out, plucking a camellia in full bloom from a nearby bush. Pushing it into Dream's bemused grasp, who gripped it's stem reverently. With that, his older brother gently carded his fingers through his dark mane, pulling forth a poppy, Dream was certain, had not been there moments earlier. With special care, Destiny placed it in his already occupied grip, resting between hand and book.
"I accept your offer little brother. If you will, bear the weight of destiny for me. And for your compassion, I in turn, shall hold their dreams for you."
With that, Destiny turned and started down a tunnelled path. Lined on either side with ancient collums and a natural formed canopy of ivy. Dream raced to rejoin his side, a bright smile playing about his lips.
"So, how fares the Dreaming my brother?"
Destiny seemed to consider the question for a moment, before somberly responding,
"Silent and serene. I ordered all its residents to go about their business, quietly and content."
Dream raised an eyebrow in playful shock, "And they obeyed without question?"
"Just so."
"How very unusual!"
Destiny turned his head to regard his brother, a slight something shinning from his sightless eyes. "Quite. And how is my garden in your care? "
Dream smirked mischievously. Holding out the camellia, each petal now sparkling in a luminous rainbow of colours.
"Oh my brother, I'm afraid I have filled every last last nook and cranny with the impossible."
"Ofcourse."
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