#then start lighting candles and praying I get more of these two | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

idyllcy · 3 months ago

Text

gentle are the hands that hold you

word count: 6.1k || banner art by @chesue00

summary: the mind may forget, but the soul will not

Leon has a set routine that he has grown used to. He wakes up, and he prepares fruit from the garden for the small temple his family has passed down to him, four peaches placed at the altar before he goes back to prepare his own breakfast. When he cooks, the sun early in the sky, and the morning dew is still present. He's certain that the sound of animals is the sound of the peaches getting eaten, and when he cleans up his plate and looks for that of the temple, the fruits are gone, including the pits, and the herbs around the altar have returned to their natural health.

He cuts three of them — one of each color.

His family has passed down the art of worshipping a forgotten deity— one whose marble statue has chipped and grown covered in vines. The marble carvings of the title of the deity only retain the words "health" and "herb", and the herbs that can be used for illness grow around the altar and are seldom cut. Leon learned it from a long time ago as a child, and he never stopped. Some might consider the routine to be a nuisance, but Leon enjoys the routine, singing hymns in the temple at noon, brushing out the lion's mane on the god's head after his singing, tending and snipping the herbs that grow beautifully around the marble, blue eyes stuck to the beauty of the forgotten god that only his family tended to, relishing in the statue's beauty.

How lonely they must be.

At sunset, he lights the four candles at the foot of the statue by the altar, lowering himself onto his knees, whispering a prayer passed down for centuries in his house, eyes closed and heart still as he chants. The words are to come from the heart, he recalls. So, he reads them

Typically, he finishes the prayer and the four candles go out on their own.

This time, however, he finishes and the candles stay lit.

He wonders if he should try again to pray, but as he opens his mouth to start again, two snakes slither from both sides, curling up the body of the statue as a comet passes in the sky, and Leon is startled to the ground. He falls backward, watching as a glow of gold erupts from the statue as the snakes turn into the same marble, and the altar cracks, tablet of the title in the front sliding down as a shadow is revealed.

The body.

A body.

Someone opens their eyes from the inside of the altar.

You open your eyes from the inside of the altar.

"Where... am I?"

Leon would recognize that face anywhere, and at that moment, all he can do is thank the skies above for what he is about to be graced with.

"Oh, sweet heavens of health." He whispers. "Do forgive this mere human for what he is about to do."

He takes a step closer, offering his hand to you, his veil sliding down his hair.

"Welcome to earth, dearest deity. This mere worshipper greets you."

You blink down at Leon slowly, tilting your head.

"The heavens greet you, kind mortal. Pray tell, what you wished to receive from a minor god of healing?"

"Nothing." He breathes.

God, if he could keep worshipping you for the rest of his life, then he would be fine.

"Nothing at all, dearest deity."

You blink at him slowly once more, looking around the temple as you stare at the herbs. Leon notices the otherwordly glow that seems to emit from your body, and the color never seems to leave your skin. You glow the same shade as your complexion, crown of yellow on your head as you observe your surroundings, staring at Leon.

Leon does not know what you think. He can not know. How could he? He was not more than a mere worshipper who was taught to care for you eternally. Eternally to be your servant, never to dream of meeting you. You, who seemed to appear out of nowhere and cry gold and green, skin naked to the eye and touch. Touching you is out of the question, yet he holds his hand out to you. You seem to lack a reaction, still taking in your surroundings as Leon breathes. Breathing heavily. Heavy is his chest as he stares at you — it feels like a violation to be able to see you so up close.

"If I may?" He offers.

You take his hand, and Leon's heart lunges into his throat at your touch.

"Thank you."

Your voice flutters along with the wind as he pulls you out of the altar, and you stare around at the opened scenery.

"My temple has deteriorated."

"Yes." Leon whispers. "It is only my family left, you see."

"The blood of the temple's knights." You mumble. "I am grateful that your blood has stayed. I do not know what I would do had you not."

Leon nods slowly. "Do you... wish to do something?"

You glance at the garden that Leon tends to and the produce, blinking ever so slowly as you smile.

"Will you teach me to tend to the plants?"

"Do you wish for it?"

"I miss my roots." You blink slowly. "The plants miss me. My mortal body has lost itself."

"Then, if I may, I shall tend to them with you again?" Leon tilts his head.

You blink at him, staring into his eyes, past his soul and straight to his heart as he holds his breath. You tilt your head, and your eyes gloss over with a distant look, almost as though you were reminiscing of something. Instead, you nod slowly, blinking as you nod, eyes clearing up as you nod again. This time, you seem sure of it.

"Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine." Leon mumbles.

Goodness, you're not good for the heart.

You let Leon guide you, his questions lingering in the air when you ask him of everything, needing to be guided and taught how to take care of certain things, and Leon wonders if he could truly do a good job. To worship you, he finds, is to treat you as glass is. When you ask him what to do, he tells you. You are clueless of certain things yet you know much more than he does. He does not understand this dynamic that he has gotten himself into. Teaching a god how to listen to human responses, how works work, and how gardening does.

When the sun rises in the morning, he places a singular peach onto the altar for the wildlife, and he offers you a peach that you have grown used to eating. You thank him with a slow nod, biting into it as he makes a breakfast in a larger than usual portion. He offers you an egg from his pan, but you shake your head, content with the peach in your hands. The juice sticks to your hands as you bite into it, and the fruit gets all over your chin, but you are happy, and even as Leon watches you eat, nearly missing his mouth with the fork, you seem content. Leon finishes his food only after you stare at the peach core left in your hand.

"Will this grow into a tree?"

"It will take a handful of years, but yes." He hums. "We can plant it with the rest of the peach trees in the garden."

You nod slowly.

"I shall go change. Please make yourself comfortable while I do, dearest deity."

You nod, looking around at the wildlife from the window, climbing out as your feet land in the grass, much more comfortable to you. The snakes in the garden slither around your calves, sitting there as you continue walking through the garden to find your temple, the medicinal herbs surrounding the altar looking dimmer than usual as you press your hand to them, the same golden glow restoring the herbs to their colors. You would have to bring a second peach to the altar in the morning from the trees.

"Will you be alright in these clothes?" Leon's changed into something easier to move in, finding you as you stare at the fallen tablet from the night before.

"It will be fine." You smooth your hand over the marble, blinking slowly as you frown. "Do you know what words were once written here?"

"I am afraid not." Leon's heart races in his chest, and you sigh.

"I have lost part of me." You glance at the eroded stone on certain words.

"If I may, I shall help you find it once more."

Leon teaches you the ropes of managing the farm, showing you the equipment and what meant fresh and not fresh. The herbs, you are familiar with, stopping Leon from pulling the rosemary because it was not at its prime, and nodding when Leon shows you how to ripen tomatoes despite them being orange. He shows you how to hide the strawberries from the birds and the indications that the blackberries were ready for harvest. The olive trees are shown to you with the peaches, and you snack on one as Leon hands you another.

In the afternoon, he shows you how to harvest the wheat and store the grain, showing you how to bake bread as you grind the grain into flour with Leon, pushing the till as you heave, falling to your knees once you have made enough for the bread of that night. You lay on the dirty stone for a minute, groaning as Leon packages the flour, holding a hand out for you as you gasp. You hold your hand up for a minute, catching your breath as you take it to get up.

"Do gods not labor?"

"What is there to labor over when the worshippers send you food?"

"Do gods disappear once they are forgotten?"

"Yes." You dust off your clothes, humming. "I have only lived this long because of the care of your blood."

You help Leon season, not much help when it comes to cooking or preparing dishes, and Leon tries to have you keep your hands off of the majority of things, only letting you tend to the herbs and spices, the olives prepared with the oil as you dip the bread in it to try it. You have not much of a reaction, sitting down at the table as Leon serves you the salad, a smaller fish prepared for him.

You settle with the salad, another peach given to you for dessert, biting on it as Leon washes up, cleaning and drying the silver with a rag as you stare at the peach in hand. The green is a little jarring, and you appreciate that Leon picks the riper ones for your temple. Yet, when you bite down, it's sweet, nectar staining your chin as Leon disposes of the peach peels, offering you a cup of water alongside some honey.

You accept it, thanking him with a nod as you go back to the peach, hands stained with sugar.

"Dearest deity." Leon starts. "If I may?"

"Feel free to." You nod, licking your fingers.

"Do you know why you have returned to being human?"

"I'm not quite sure." You look out past the windows, eyes distant.

Leon wonders if he's struck a nerve, but he doesn't have much time to think over it.

For the first time, Leon dreams and remembers.

He's in a field of grass, your head in his lap, closed eyes and blissed smile on your face as he runs his hands through your hair. He's bigger than he is in reality, lion's skin on his head, his fingers rough from what he assumes to be the blade. He pushes your hair out of your face, blinking down at you slowly. The green of the grass creases under your body, and Leon thinks there is a strange sense of domesticity with the way that you trust him so much.

His mouth moves on its own. "Dearest, are you not uncomfortable?"

"Surely not while in your lap." You peek up at him, smile on your face as you beam. "You are comfortable, beloved."

The daffodils in the field are pulled, Leon's fingers clumsy with the stems as he tries to make you a crown, weaving in the green into the braid as you let the breeze tickle your nose. He feels his hands are rough from some sort of labor, and his body feels weary. Yet, there is a fullness in his chest as he finishes the crown, placing it on your head as you open an eye to stare up at him.

"How do I look?"

"Dazzling, darling." He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "You look dazzling."

Leon wakes from the dream in his bed, sitting up and gasping as one does, and he stares at the rising sun and the calling rooster. He rests his head in his palms, groaning at the way his heart refuses to slow down. He hears the sound of the door opening in the back, and he assumes that you've gone off to the well to wash up for the day. He assumes it's a routine for you much like the four peaches he places at the altar, so he gets up, bed covers kicked off as he makes his bed. The peaches have ripened after being left out for the night, and he takes the basket with him, offering you one on the way before taking the other three.

You bite on the peach and follow him to the altar, watching as he leaves the basket. You stare at the peach in your hand and place it back into the basket, teeth marks visible in the one you had placed there, but Leon doesn't mention anything.

Then comes breakfast, eggs for him, an assortment of fruit for you.

Despite your lack of diet, it seems you do not complain. Perhaps your body abides by different rules when compared to his.

He ponders over the idea of insanity when he turns red from eye contact alone. Truly, you are dazzling, and unfortunately, Leon is not immune to such beauty despite staring at your statue each morning. Heavens, he's screwed.

"Is there anything you need, dearest deity?" He offers.

"Not much." You hum. "Do we have other fruit?"

"There is an orchard in the east." Leon hums. "Would you like more fruit?"

You nod.

The orchard is due for some tending. Leon only ever went for olives to have in his meals and peaches for offerings, so it wasn't surprising that the figs were eaten from the inside out alongside the apples and pears. You offer to help, palms held out as you argue that you could technically restore them to their prime. Leon has you rest, pulling out the figs and bad fruit into one basket, tossing the good ones to another.

"Are there any fruits you'd rather not eat?"

You ponder over his words, shaking your head.

Leon finds you familiar. You sit at the corner of the orchard, trailing after him with a basket of your own fruit, and he finds it familiar. You yourself are familiar to him. He has no memory of you, but he can not argue that it is because he has never met you either. He no longer remembers the faces of his own parents. All he knows is the ritual of worship, the routine of faith that he has grown used to. All he remembers about himself is that, now that he thinks about it.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, and Leon has not much of a choice when it comes to resting at night.

When he closes his eyes, he's unsurprised at what he is met with.

It's another dream.

A lion's robe is still on Leon's body this time, and he feels significantly bigger than he is in present. His heart does not beat as harshly as it does in reality, and with each step he takes, he becomes increasingly aware that he is taller than he is in reality. The garden of his home is replaced with a marble home of his own, and he walks through the ruins that have been replaced with a garden in present day. His steps are heavy as he stops in front of the temple, watching as there's a golden hue from the altar — noticeably larger than the one in present.

Leon steps behind you, eyes glued to the words on the tablet that is now restored, frowning.

god of health, herb, home. the lion's beloved

"Are you returning?"

Leon cannot control his mouth, but he stares at the way you tense at his voice.

"My time on earth is short." You turn around to face him, voice quiet as you close your eyes.

Leon's heart rattles in his chest from the way you refuse to look at him. "Can you stay longer?"

"Beloved" You whisper. "I ca—"

"Will you stay longer?" He whispers, voice shaking as he asks. His heart races at being called beloved, but his chest contorts painfully as the man whose body he resides in.

"I cannot." You open your eyes, heart shattering in your ears as you catch his tears. "Oh, beloved, please do not—"

Leon wants to stay, but he watches as the man turns his back, stepping away from the altar as the sound of bells chime to indicate your disappearance.

Instead, when he turns around again, all that remains is a shrunken altar and the temple from the modern day. Leon has what he was holding prior to entering into the past — three peaches in a small basket. You are still behind him, white of your eyes the only visible part of them as your irises cloud over and Leon stares at you. A flash from the past for him, a flash from your life for you. He wonders just who that might have been.

He looks around, catching the fact that you are behind him.

When you return, you stare into nothing, pupils wide as the black of your eyes engulf the entirety of the color of your eye, and Leon stands there, unsure of what to do, blinking slowly as you close your eyes and open them again and again. You blink again, and again, and again, and again. You try to break yourself from the trance— from what Leon can tell.

"Dearest deity." Leon whispers. "Are you alright?"

You blink at Leon again, exhaling as you grimace.

"I will be. Let us drop off the fruit for my herbs first." You take the basket from him, fruit placed on the altar as you bless the peaches.

"How does it work?"

"They live off of the water and juice." You squeeze the fruit, Leon watching as the liquid trickles down your fist onto the plants, the red herbs brightening up nearly immediately. The yellow follows, and the green last. You take the scissors to cut three of the herbs, two of each herb, juice-stained fingers sticking to the plants as you place them into the basket.

Leon nods as you hand him the herbs, thanking you.

Food is simple today. It is typically a loaf and some legumes, occasionally fish if the two of you decide to head out to fish at the lake. Leon has grown used to a life like this, and you make do without eating fish, so Leon goes out less and less, growing legumes with you as you learn from him, forming an appetite for fruit as well, snacking on blackberries as he picks at the strawberries that he hides from the birds. You bite down on certain ones, slipping a piece past Leon's lips as he places a cucumber in your basket, thanking you quietly as he checks out the lettuce.

"What do you want for dinner?"

You glance at the lettuce and the berries, tilting your head.

"...salad?"

"Fruit salad? I should retrieve some olives as well, then." Leon holds his hand out for the basket, and you give him your hand instead.

Leon does a double take, blinking at your hand and then at you, and you offer him a shy smile.

"If this is alright?"

"More than alright, dearest deity." Leon smiles. "I am honored you would initiate it."

Leon finds that you are much more affectionate now that time has passed. He does not keep track of the days, time something he no longer holds, sharing dishes and bites with you when he can, showing you the rest of the garden that he leaves to tend on its own. Leon understands something. Whoever he is in his dreams, you left. Whoever you are in the dream, you did not wish to leave. He understands not much from it. The heart of whose body he was in his dreams was scarred when you left.

It hurt him to think about it, so he busies himself with the sand between his toes.

"We had a beach?"

"We have a sea." Leon stares out at the horizon. "I wonder if the lobsters are ready for harvest."

"You can eat those?"

Leon nods slowly, laughing as you furrow your brows.

"How does... that work." You pause. "You crack the head?"

"You pop the head off, and you pull out the meat from the whole tail."

You blink twice.

"May I... watch you prepare it?"

"With pleasure." He smiles. "Shall we go catch one?"

You watch Leon ditch the top, skin out for the world to see, and Leon feels a little embarrassed being so bare before you, but you don't seem to mind, watching as he takes a trident.

"You pierce them?"

"They don't move as fast. Perhaps I have grown used to the water."

The blue of the ocean is pretty. Leon still isn't over the beauty of it, and it always surprises him when he dives for crustaceans, trident heavy against his arm as he pierces through the shells, three tucked into the bag net he carries, paddling back to the surface as he wonders how he had been able to hold his breath for so long. The question fades just as quickly, eyes meeting yours as you blink, doe-eyed, eyes wide as you seem to drink in every part of his skin.

"Dearest deity?"

"Apologies." You hide your face, sinking into the ground with embarassment as Leon laughs, letting the net fall into the sand as he crouches in front of you, hair pushed back, saltwater still dripping from his hair and skin. He watches as your eyes dart to his chest and then abdomen, thoughts written all over your face as you hide again.

"I shall dress again."

"There's no need." You manage, still hiding your face. "I... prefer the way you are."

Leon feels an arrow pierce his heart, ears ringing as he processes what you've just said. He's sure he's turned red like the tomatoes once ripe, and he hides his face in his knees, shaking slightly as he processes your bluntness. Dare he say it, he liked it.

Though, it would be his grace if you were to fall for him. It was only a given that he would worship you.

He doesn't feel as though he is in a position where he could truly get to profess his love to you first.

At night, you request of him to tuck you into bed, pout on your lips as he sits by your bed, letting you squeeze his hand with a gentle grab, watching as you drift off to sleep.

He wonders if you need sleep truly — considering you are a deity and all.

Though, Leon does.

The third time Leon dreams, he is no longer in a lion's skin.

He feels younger, white on his body, blue brooch around his neck and blouse on his skin. There is a veil on his head, and it seems as though he is in the temple of yours once more. He does not understand this quite that much. It seems as though he is being offered up for some kind of ritual. It is some sort of marriage, he assumes. Blue eyes and golden hair, cerulean brooch and white blouse, ruffled bow and laced veil, Leon truly feels that he is being offered up as a groom rather than a servant. He wonders if the person he has possessed is aware of it.

His body moves on its own, veil over his head shifting as he looks down, standing before what he assumes as the head priest. The priest places a crown of... herbs on his head, and he is placed on the altar, some sort of glow occurring around him as he forces his eyes open. The veil sticks to his head as he notices the priest and all their followers are gone when he opens his eyes. Instead, he catches a glance of you above him, head tilted as you blink down at him.

"You're quite young, sacrifice." You grin, teeth visible. "What might your name be?"

Nevermind the fact that Leon's heart is racing a thousand pes an hour, his heart is about to leap out of his chest. Yet, Leon is curious of the man's name, but he finds it surprising that he chokes out his own name.

"Leon, dearest deity." He whispers. "I am your... groom."

"How rare that they would send a groom rather than a servant." You tilt your head at him. "Well, do make yourself at home. We've got plenty of plants and fruit."

Leon steps down from the altar, stepping on a piece of marble before taking a tumble, the tablet breaking under his foot as he blinks.

"I'm sorry." He gapes.

You raise a brow, mumbling to yourself as you tap your chin.

"Oh, dear." You laugh. "I'll restore it sometime. Please take care of the garden while I do."

Leon's dream is far longer than he is comfortable. He wonders how much time has passed in reality in the dream, and he learns to take care of the garden that resembles the one he tends to each night. There is a lake in the back where he fishes, and he learns to cook meals for the two of you, typically baking bread and making soup. He learns that you prefer the best harvest of peaches, but you share them with him, teaching him how to make crisp and how to cook the oats until they are crispy. You adore peaches with or without honey and spices. It is why the peach tree was so large in the orchard.

During the time, he learns that gods do in fact visit the earth outside of their domains. You return in time for dinner every single day, and you tell him of what has happened recently with the temple over his meals. He likes this life. At one point, the worshippers send him the very lion skin he wore in his previous dream. The connection between your domain and reality is created through prayer. Not faithfulness, number.

You complete a number of miracles, and in return, your worshippers increase in number, which, in turn, grants you access back home.

When Leon wakes, his heart is racing in his chest for no reason, blinking at the knife in hand and cutting board on the counter and then at the tomatoes.

"Kind mortal?"

"My apologies." Leon sighs, going back to cutting the veggies. "It seems I had gotten lost in myself."

Not reality. Leon is not in reality. Instead, he has been stuck in an endless cycle of immortality, and without you around, the age had worn him down until all he remembered was to worship you. If your temple was run down in your domain, he can not imagine how ruined your temple in reality was. Leon has become immortal from partaking of the food of the gods. The peaches he offered to the gods was for you, and the herbs he cut was granting him immortality in return.

Leon Kennedy had lived for so long that he forgot this was not his home, it was yours.

The immortality from the herbs had been eating his mind from the inside out.

He wonders if you remember, but he doesn't ask.

Instead, he asks you if you would like to go fishing with him, fishing rod in hand.

You tilt your head at the rod, nodding as he takes everything. The pond spawns all sorts of fish, now that he thinks about it. The expensive fish he used to dream of owning back when he was in reality, the fish that he had when his family had a nice harvest, just about everything. It feels strange to remember that this is your home and not his, but he doesn't dwell too much on it. Instead, he sits at the dock, holding out the fishing rod as you sit next to him, basket of strawberries in your lap as you eat them.

"Do you eat fish?" The answer is no, yet Leon finds himself asking anyway.

"No." You hum. "I can live off of produce."

You take a bite of the strawberries almost as if to make a point, pointing at the fishing line with a kick of your legs as Leon reels in the fish, pulling it out of the water with a ceremonious thud.

"Good job." You hum. "I didn't know we had catfish."

Leon raises a brow at you. "What else do we have?"

You shrug. "I don't know much. My followers only ever send me peaches now. Not that I do not appreciate it."

Leon finds it strange that there happens to be both a lake and an ocean, the two connected by a small river, a waterfall that collapses into the ocean, and the sea leads into nothing. It seems that you knew, but you never mentioned it in any way. If this domain was yours, then he found it intriguing that you had been offered enough fish that there would form an ocean. The offerings given seem to not expire, and the ecosystem seems to reproduce and go on as it would in reality.

He wonders if reality is the right word to describe his world, though. Perhaps earth would have made for a better word. He wonders what is happening on earth. Maybe this was some sort of Mount Olympus... or whatnot. He doubts it is. He would have recognized living on an actual mountain.

Well, at the very least, fishing is quite fun.

When he pulls in the second catch of the day, he decides that it's enough.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Leon wonders if he should try making pie in one of the vessels.

You tap your chin. "Something baked sounds good."

"Oh, I'm sure it does." Leon mumbles. "Pie?"

You nod. "Shall I help?"

He shakes his head.

The more Leon thinks of it, the more he realizes that he's always been making portions for two. It was embedded into his soul. When he had leftovers, it was much easier to feed it to the poultry in the back and the pigs. Now, that second portion had a reason. He had always found it bizzare. It was because he used to cook with his mother for his father, not the fact that he had been cooking for the two of you for such a long time.

When Leon sends you to bed at night, he watches you for a few moments longer, wondering if this was something he had done in the past.

He does not dream this time.

So, when he wakes in the morning and you have a pear in hand with a knife in the other, he blinks at you.

"Dearest?"

"Teach me how to cut fruit?"

Leon wonders if you were the one to teach him first, but the more he thinks back on the dream, the more he wonders just whether or not you had been eating in the time that you lacked a sacrifice. Would sacrifice be the correct word? The more he considers it, the more he thinks of himself as a gift from the priest rather than a sacrifice. Is that egoistical? Perhaps it is. It is more of a blessing on his end to be able to stay with you for so long. The herbs he had each morning must have been keeping him nice and healthy despite his time in your realm.

He may have forgotten, but it seems that his body had remembered.

He teaches you how to hold the knife, cut by cut showing you how to peel the fruit, and you decide that peeling half of it and then eating the other half after spitting out the core was the better decision. He finds that that ties into what he remembers about you as well.

It seems he remembers now.

Leon understands that you expect a singular peach and then three more at the altar, but he does not do so this fateful day. There is something he must check, and someone he must attempt to understand. There was no way you did not know. You were not as foolish as to not. It had been in the way you looked at him. He knew, from the very beginning. You knew perhaps, as well, that when you had opened your eyes from the inside of the altar, you had been observing him and not your surroundings.

You had been observing your lover who had forgotten you, not the home you resided in.

"You are home, dearest deity." Leon offers. "You need not the peaches anymore."

You blink at Leon, hesitation bleeding through you as you pause to breathe.

"Since when have you recalled?"

"A while back." Leon mumbles. "I was not certain if you wished for me to bring it up."

You blink at Leon, sitting yourself back on the altar, the lack of glowing visible now that everyone has forgotten about you. You will no longer be able to return to the world that you had left to. You would be stuck tending to the garden that you had started long before Leon joined you here. At the very least, he would be able to stay forever with you, only needing to tend to the herbs and grow them. Yet, he wonders where all of the maidens you had been offered so long ago ended up.

You stare at the broken tablet, laughing embarrassingly as you smile at Leon.

"Truly reminds you the first time we met, huh?"

"Yes." He rests the empty basket on the altar, taking it from your hand as he smooths the rusted words over. "God of health, herbs, home."

"The lion's beloved." You whisper back. "I missed you."

"I know." He mumbles, setting it to the side as he lets you sob into his chest.

"I missed you." You gasp. "You... you forgot me. I expected it, but I had been in the fabric between reality and my realm that I was sure you would stop building my way home, but you remembered the prayers. You recalled the words you had grown used to prior to your sacrifice, and I... you found my way home."

"I'm sorry, dearest." He whispers. "I had forgotten. I have been around for far too long. I am sorry I had forgotten to welcome you home."

There is a certain beauty that comes with remembering, Leon finds. In the centuries that he had forgotten all about you, his heart had somehow remembered, adorning you in the lion's mane until he forgot it was his first, singing hymns he knew you cherished from the time he had spent with you, leaving you peaches because you had always shared the best harvest of them with him, sneaking in that you adored the taste of the nectar on your tongue. His mind had forgotten, but his heart had not, burying you into the depths of his consciousness until he would remember you again one day.

His hands have grown rough with a different kind of labor over the years, and he has lost much of the large muscle he had arrived with from his way of living, but the feeling of your skin is still familiar to his touch.

Right.

His mind could forget, but his soul could never.

"You're making me a crisp later." You huff.

"Of course." He laughs. "Anything else?"

"And I want a kiss for all the years you forgot about me for."

"That can be made up with the life ahead."

And to seal the promise, Leon kisses you, hands gentle on your skin, clarity restored.

#leon kennedy x reader #☾.dearest deity #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #reader insert #resident evil #☾.fics

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shapard · 7 months ago

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hihii! I was wondering if I could request a Lucifer x fem!reader, where the reader was a nun in her life and still is kinda one in hell but dedicates herself to lucifer yk what I mean? :3 I’m sorry if this isn’t really in detail!

Demons

Lucifer x Sinner!Nun!femreader

A/n: Heyy! I hope this meets your expectations!

Soft Lucifer, Social awkward Lucifer, Nun reader

Part 1 < Part 2

You hate it here.

Hell was full of sinners and Demons. The ground is covered in crimson blood. The blood bleeds into your clothes, leaving the white in pure red.

Violence was the only way Sinners communicate.

You were mad at the Lord themself. You prayed each day and night. Always followed the rules and gave up every rich thing in your life. All to serve the father.

Many people thought you were too young to pursue this path but to you it was a blessing itself.

One day, the worst and best thing that ever happened to you. You saved a life and you died instead.

You waited and waited for the light of Jesus and God. So that they can take you in their hands and lift you to paradise. Yet after all you've done, you were falling.

The void of pure darkness ate you and threw you down to the most feared place. Hell.

The compact on thee ground hurt as if you died again. The force knocked you completely out. Luck was on your side and gifted you a home. At home two demons were leaving and let you stay in their old house.

You'll never forget them.

One day you took a walk in a different area, trying to find a loophole anywhere. Just one sign to get to those purely gates. To your dismay, nothing.

Instead of worrying too much you went to a hell’s Library. Reading through every book to get Information about this place.

The Lore of Lucifer is very Interesting.

The father’s Favorite banished from heaven because of the Forbidden Apple. As you kept reading the more it Fascinated you.

Why did Lucifer give Eve the Apple?

How is Heaven?

The more you found out about the king of hell the more obsessed you got.

Who exactly is Lucifer Morningstar? The Lord you served so long for let you down so easily, but would Lucifer? Too many questions spiraled in your head, it started to pound in pain.

The library was closing soon, so you stuffed the books into your rucksack and left the place in a fast pace.

The book may not give you the answers you need but Lucifer could. Without wasting any seconds, you wander around the so-called pride ring in Hell.

It seems there are 7 rings like the 7 sins. One of them being Lucifer. The fun part you learned is that the appearance in hell has something to do with the way you die.

Your appearance resembled a black cat hybrid, you mainly looked humane just with some extras. A pair of cat ears, claws and a tail that swayed behind you.

Finally, after headaches, Mental Breakdowns, and research you got an idea how to get Lucifers attention.

Praying. A very simple yet tiring process. After weeks of preparation you got everything that you needed. Your body shook under fear as you lit up the candles.

You don't feel that confident anymore. Praying to God is something different. They were pure and was the creator of everything. But Lucifer was the pure evil. The complete opposite.

You were in the center of a pentagram that was drawn with your and a goat’s blood. The flames around you were so hot you thought you were in the middle of a fire.

With a shaky breath you closed your eyes and sat down on your calves. Another deep breath and you began your prayer.

When you were finished the candles were burned out but nothing besides the wax that coated the floor.

With a sigh you rubbed your hands on your face. The whole procedure was for nothing.

Exhausted you took the candles and threw it in the dustbin. “Was worth a shot.” You said disappointed as you sat on a very old bed. A loud crash sends you out of your little sweet daydream about kittens. You jumped up and grabbed the next object, a Fan.

Curse words echoed through your Livingroom. “Who’s there?” You shouted as you switched the lights on. A short figure with a huge hat came in the view.

“Fuck! eh... Sorry for the mess.” Confused at his words you looked around seeing your Livingroom really a complete mess. Nothing was at its usual place.

The guy watched as your jaw dropped a bit. “What in the name of Jesus did you do?!” He smirked up to you and you raised the fan above your head. “Why do you have a fan in your hand?” He asked pointing with his clawed finger at your fan. “Because of people that break into private homes, like you!” With a snap of his fingers the fan in your hand vanished into small sparkles.

“Technically I didn’t break into your house.” The stranger said as he swung his cane around. You raised your eyebrow at him, “You obviously did.” What the hell is with those sinners.

He sighs in frustration and leans onto his cane, “Let me re-introduce myself. I’m Lucifer Morningstar. The devil you summoned.” His sharp red eyes focused on your e/c ones and his Pupils dilated a bit. The more you two looked in the eyes the hotter and thicker the tension got.

“You’re Lucifer.” You fast to break the thick ice. You don’t want to focus about the growing desire for the Archangel in front of you. Lucifer smirk grew only more. You didn’t think this was even possible. “Yes, the one and only.” He winked and a shiver went down your spine.

“of course.” As the sin of pride, he’s doing a great job so far.

“For what do you need me, darling?” Lucifer asked and you immediately asked him the question that is burning your mind. “I have Question my Lord.” Pink hue glazed Lucifer's face as you said my lord. “Ehm,” He grabbed his collar and pulled it with his claw, “Of course darling… We- I mean I have too much… No, fuck- I have a lot of time reserved for you! Hehehe.” Lucifers sudden overtalking caught you surprised.

The King of hell, Lucifer Morningstar gets nervous when you call him My Lord.

“Okay first my most Important question. How do I get in heaven? I don’t know what I have done in my life to end up here.” Lucifer raised sassy his eyebrow giving you a side eye. “Darling. You’re in hell and there is no ticket up. Believe me.” He tapped with his cane on the floor, “There’s no way.” He pressed again.

But you don’t give up.

“Then give me a meeting. I can prove that I’m innocent. I was a nun almost my whole life and I died saving someone’s life.” Lucifer’s laugh was ego scratching and you glared at him. “I could get you the meeting sweetheart, yet it wouldn’t change anything. But in exchange you have to do something for me."

“What?” You asked as Lucifer stepped in front of you, his face so close that it’s brushing your face. He breathed in and you smelled so divine. “only time will tell.” And just like that he disappeared. Confused you looked around.

“That was weird…”

A/n: I'm ALIVE!! Anyways Part 2 will be out soon<3

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@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei @cimadreamer @ayanazoldyck @froggybich

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#lucifer morningstar #lucifer #y/n #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #shapard #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #awkward Lucifer #I love letting Y/n throwing stuff at him #hes so cute #and silly

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year ago

Text

In Your Eyes

Steve Harrington x Best Friend!Reader

2.5k words

Warnings: Pining, fluff, tiny angst

You loved your job at Family Video. Movies were an obsession of yours, so having access to them at a discount was a great perk. The store was only a few blocks from your house, so you saved tons on gas and could easily bum rides off people when your dad couldn’t loan you the car. The hours didn’t suck, and the pay was decent. The best part of your job, however, was working with friends��except for the moments when Robin Buckley decided to tease you about your love life.

“You know, I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you,” Robin piped up as the two of you grabbed candy from the back for a restock.

You shook your head. “Steve? Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

“Come on. He talks about you all the time, he lights up like a Christmas tree when you enter the room, he kind of can’t keep his eyes off you, he makes me switch shifts with him so he can work with you-”

“Yeah, because he knows he can get me to mop up at the end of the night,” you grumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

Robin smirked. “Because you’re in love with him,” she pointed out.

“In love with who?”

Steve Harrington stood in the doorway, sliding his Family Video vest over his shoulders, ready to start his shift. He cocked an eyebrow at you; you prayed that he couldn’t see how shaky your legs suddenly became.

“John Cusack,” you blurted out, shooting Robin a look that silently begged her to shut her mouth.

Steve nodded slowly. “John Cusack,” he repeated. “He was one of the geeky guys in Sixteen Candles, right? And he was in that movie you dragged me to like five times? The one where he’s got the boom box like this.” He lifted his arms in the air over his head, mimicking one of your favorite movie moments.

“Say Anything,” you confirmed softly, your heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of you. “Yeah, I loved that one.”

The three of you stood in your small circle for a moment, Robin’s eyes darting back and forth between you and Steve as neither you said another word. These silences had been happening more and more lately; part of you wondered if Steve had figured out your feelings and was looking for a way to let you down gently.

In almost all your memories from the time you could walk up through middle school, Steve was there. Even when you wound up in different circles in high school, you would still find him climbing through your window in the middle of the night just to talk or share a snack or listen to music. It wasn’t something his girlfriends liked, but he always assured him that you were just friends.

Just friends. You hated the little twisty feeling that appeared in your stomach when you thought of those two little words. From the moment thirteen-year-old Steve had sat next to you on your bed and pressed his lips to yours for the first time, you were a goner. The funny thing was, you hadn’t even wanted to kiss him; you only agreed because he was your best friend, and he was begged you to let him get this milestone “out of the way”. But by the time he crawled back out your window and was scurrying across the street to his house, you were head-over-heels in love with the boy.

And here you were now, years down the road, still melting at the sight of his stupidly perfect hair and deep brown eyes. Another perk of your Family Video job.

“Well,” Robin finally said, clearing her throat. “Let’s get this candy out there before a customer comes in.” She gave Steve a gentle punch in the arm as the two of you walked past him. “See you out there,” she called over her shoulder as Steve moved to clock in.

As you and Robin walked back to the front of the store, she raised her eyebrows at you.

“You’re really obvious, you know that?” she scoffed. “I don’t get how he doesn’t know you’re nuts about him.”

“Robin!” you hissed, snapping your head towards the office door Steve would be coming through at any moment. “Please!” Robin rolled her eyes, but for once she shut her mouth.

“You need to tell him.”

You and Robin laid down on your bed, the English Beat playing on the record player on your dresser. Hanging out after work had turned into dinner had turned into a sleepover; it was just past midnight, and you were at the point of the evening where one of you usually blurted something out just to annoy the other one.

“Enough, Robin,” you muttered, rolling onto your stomach. Your eyes landed on your dresser, where a framed photo of you and Steve sat. It was from your first-ever middle school dance, which Steve had taken you to. Another first the two of you shared. You could still remember the weird feeling in your stomach when Steve placed his hands carefully on your waist during the slow songs; you now recognized that the feeling was butterflies. Almost as if your body knew how you felt about Steve before your brain did.

Robin followed your gaze and lit up at the sight of the photograph. “You two are adorable,” she mockingly gushed. She hopped off the bed and skipped over to the picture. Before she could lift it, she paused, and your heart froze when you remembered what was next to the picture.

A few nights ago, after pining particularly hard over Steve during a movie night, you had locked yourself in your closet and penned a letter to him. In it, you spilled your guts: I love you… I can’t stop thinking about you… I wish you would notice me… It was utterly cringe-worthy, and you had every intention of burning the damn thing. But of course, Robin found it before your lazy ass could toss it in the fireplace.

Her jaw dropped as she snatched the letter and her eyes scanned it quickly. You didn’t even bother getting up to fight her for it; it was nothing she hadn’t already heard you whine about anyway. She finally looked back up at you, her gaze softer now. You clutched your pillow and squirmed awkwardly.

“Don’t laugh,” you half-whispered.

Robin sighed. “Seriously,” she said gently. “You need to tell him.” She left the letter on the dresser and rejoined you on the bed, propping herself up on her elbow. Her devilish grin returned. “Or I will.”

The next morning, Robin woke up early and quietly left for her opening shift at Family Video, promising to see you later when you went in for your afternoon shift. So, you happily laid in bed for about an hour before deciding to get up and get yourself ready for the day. After a hot shower, you returned to your room and opened your dresser drawer. As you began to grab your things, you realized that something felt… off.

“Oh no,” you gasped as you scanned the top off your dresser. There were your perfumes… your jewelry box… the photo of you and Steve…

“Where’s the letter?” you choked out, scrambling to move things around, knowing full well that the letter was gone.

You sank to the floor, pulling your towel tighter around you, as if it would somehow protect you from what you knew would be impending embarrassment. “Robin,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

Just as you were planning your revenge, the phone rang. Your mother called your name, shouting that Robin was on the other end. You quickly grabbed the phone you had in your room and answered.

“Robin-”

“Heeeeey,” Robin greeted slowly as you both heard the click of your mother hanging up on her end. “Think you could come in a bit early? Steve, uh, called out today.”

Heat rose to your face. “Robin, did you-”

“Just, uh, come in, okay? We’ll chat once you’re here.” Click.

The tone of fear and nerves was not one you often heard from Robin. You resisted the urge to slam your head against the wall, hoping that somehow your best girlfriend had not destroyed your life.

A customer jumped at the sound of the slamming door as you entered Family Video. You made a beeline for the counter, where Robin was sorting a stack of videos. She winced at the sight of you, her cheeks turning deep red.

“Heeeeeey best friend,” she called in a hopeful, sing-song voice.

“Where is it?” you hissed, glancing around to make sure there were no customers in earshot.

Robin cleared her throat and shuffled her feet. “See, funny story….” She glanced up at the ceiling, as if the words she needed were typed above her head. “I kind of… gave it to Steve.”

Several customers looked up at the inhuman screech that came out of your mouth.

“What the hell, Robin?” you groaned, burying your burning face in your hands. “Why would you do that? What did he say?”

“Okay, so,” Robin started. “I, uh, gave Steve the letter in the office. And he read it, I guess. And then he came out and said he was going home… and just walked out.” Robin lifted her hands to her face, as if she thought you would hit her. Which, honestly, sounded like a good idea.

Your chest tightened with anxiety. “And?”

“That’s it,” Robin answered. “I haven’t heard from him since.”

Tears stung in your eyes. Great. Steve now knew you loved him. And he left work so he wouldn’t have to see you, so he wouldn’t have to tell you that no, he did not like you that way. He would probably go on yet another date and laugh about your stupid letter with whatever girl he had on his arm. And he would never, ever speak to you again, except maybe to ask you to switch shifts with him so he could go out with some beautiful girl.

“I’m so sorry,” Robin whispered, interrupting your panicked thoughts. The pain in her eyes melted your heart a bit. Deep down, you knew she had done what she did out of her affection for you. “I thought-”

Sighing, you shook your head. “Let me just clock in,” you said, defeat echoing in your voice.

After a long shift, an awkward dinner at Robin’s house, and a quick shower, you planted yourself on your bed, determined to distract yourself with a book. Through your closed window you could hear the distant sound of music as you finally hit a rhythm with your book, but it was muffled under the melancholy sound of The Cure coming from your stereo.

Two quick knocks at the door interrupted you. Your dad poked his head in, exasperation on his face.

“Honeybee?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

Your dad sighed. “Can you tell Steven to go home? I’m trying to sleep, and I have no patience for him and his antics right now.”

“Steve?” Your breath hitched slightly at the mention of his name. This was it. He was on your front porch, letter in hand, ready to confront you over your stupid, stupid crush and tell you that your friendship was over, that eighteen years of laughter and memories was down the drain because you couldn’t help yourself from writing that letter and Robin couldn’t help meddling.

You jumped out of bed and scurried past your dad, begging your heart to quiet down, praying that Steve wouldn’t be able to hear it. It was so loud in your ears that you once again were barely noticing the music that continued outside as you reached the front door. Taking a deep breath, you reached out and turned the doorknob.

As you opened the door, you finally recognized the sound of one of your favorite REO Speedwagon songs wafting across the yard to you. But your attention was focused on the sight on your lawn:

Steve Harrington, King Steve, your Steve, was standing in the middle of the grass, his hair more tousled than usual, with his arms in the air, holding up the boom box that usually sat in his room. From the boom box you could hear the words-

And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever

You let your eyes wander down from the boom box to Steve’s face. At the sight of you in the porchlight, his whole body seemed to soften, and you swore you heard him let out a gentle sigh. You quietly closed the door behind you and stepped off the porch. Steve met you in the middle of the sidewalk, allowing his boom box to fall to his side and setting it on the ground between you.

“I couldn’t find that Peter Gabriel song,” Steve blurted, gesturing at the still-playing boom box. “So I thought… I mean you like REO, right? You play them all the time in the car.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, blinking rapidly and rubbing his fingers together.

You’d seen Steve flirt plenty of times with plenty of girls. He was confident, charming, funny, and incredibly sure of himself. He made jokes and smirked and offered sly compliments. And he often left the interaction with plans for a date, shooting cocky winks at you and Robin. But that wasn’t Steve right now. His eyes were full of uncertainty as they flickered everywhere but your own eyes.

“Steve, what’re you doing?” You took a small step towards Steve, trying to make everything make sense.

A flicker of that King Steve grin flashed across his face. “You said the end of Say Anything was the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen. So, I thought I’d give it a shot.”

In spite of your nerves, you couldn’t help but smile back. “And why in the world would you do that?”

“So I can do this.”

Steve took your face in his hands and tugged you towards him, pressing his lips to yours for the second time in your life. Just like last time, your heart skipped several beats and your mind was filled with nothing but Steve. Sighing into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling his body against yours, wondering how you’d survived going this long between lip locks with Steve Harrington.

When Steve finally pulled back, you both broke out into fits of shy giggles, giddiness evident on both of your faces.

“That was a hell of a lot better than last time,” Steve teased, giving your nose a small peck.

Rolling your eyes, you gave him a little shove. “Yeah, looks like you finally know what you’re doing, Harrington.”

His eyebrows flew up. “Oh, that’s how it is, huh?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, pulling him back in for another kiss. “That’s how it is.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x you

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thebadboyfanclub · 7 months ago

Text

Like A True Flower (Aemond x Reader)

So this was a bit hard to write but I hope you guys like it. There’s a slight mention of Aegon but I think I’ll need to write a part two to get into it cause there was just too many things to write. Let me know if you will be interested in that

As the years passed and the Targaryen name went from a burning dragon fire to merely a small candle that was handed to Daenerys Targaryen, the whispers of the bastard curse never went silent.

“If my children do not sit on the throne then none of our lines shall prosper”

(Y/n) Targaryens legacy lived on from people tarnishing her, blaming her and others who admired her wits and hunger for recognition. The bastard of Daemon Targaryen that was dropped off in Kings Landing, at the time Daemon had begged his brother King Viserys to legitimize her, raise her as their own, only the Seven could have known that (y/n) would turn out to be the one to put the sword on Aemonds hand and send him off to battle that got them both killed.

(Y/n) was the lady wife of Aemond per Queen Alicents request? At first, Alicent scoffed at the babe who seemed to sense the hatred that grew around her crib, a bastard amongst royalty, it was such a scandal at the time that Viserys had even considered giving her away. The babe growing tireless and her lungs as strong as steel made her discomfort evident to everyone with well working set of ears.

“Your grace”

“Have you fed her?”

“Fed her changed her, bathe her, nothing seems to work”

Alicent had walked into her nursery for the first time since she arrived, something in her compelled her to come to the child’s aid, listening to her wailing took her back to the first year of Aegons life.

“Give her to me”

The wet nurse hesitated only for a split second before she complied with the queen's orders, gently passing that young babe to Alicent who cooed at the poor thing, she had almost turned purple from crying, “she misses her mother” Alicent considered silently, slowly she started rocking her whilst she walked towards the window, she was pregnant with her third child at the time, her belly growing big and someone’s else daughter in her arms.

“She looks beautiful I’ll give you that much little girl”

She joked to the babe as the light of the sun graced her cheeks, it always seemed to work for Aegon and as the seconds passed (y/n) 's cries lessened, and a satisfied smile grew on Alicent lips as the little lady finally found peace in her arms, slowly turning her frown to one of the most adorable yawns that tugged at Alicante heartstrings.

“All you wanted was some sunlight, like a true flower”

Alicent was in awe of the child ever since, such a true beauty, and as she grew her delightful personality took everyone by storm, to be around her was to fall for her, even as just a child little boys would bring her flowers that they plucked from some unfortunate garden, including Aegon and later Aemond.

The two brothers were close to the princess, they would compete for her attention any way they could, of course, Aegon had the advantage of having a dragon and Aemond had to stay on the ground as he watched them circle one another, he would gawk at them with envy, praying that one day Aegon will have to watch him ride his very own dragon with (y/n).

Aegon on the other side would despise (y/n) and Aemonds reading time, the young girl was gifted at the literate arts, it was almost like she would swallow any book and recite on the spot anything that she was asked about any book she had gotten her hands on, Aemond was not as intellect yet he caught fast than Aegon and was more inclined to ask intriguing questions.

You can imagine his outburst of rage when the queen announced that she was to marry his youngest brother.

“She had inherited the lustful urges of her ferocious father, at the very least we must say she was much more discreet about it”

The historians would report back when asked about it, Aegon had the lust and fire of the dragon, while Aemond was sweet, attentive to her needs and his touch was oh so soft. Besides the fact that (y/n) wanted to have a bite of sweet and spicy, she also relished the jealousy between them, fighting for a spot in her bed every night was an aphrodisiac like no other.

Even though she was married under the seven to Aemond, she would often sneak from her chambers at the hour of the wolf and warm Aegon bed or other times when the chambermaids would scurry away after listening to the loud moans of (y/n) and Aemond in any type of room that the castle had to offer.

“A little after the war of dragons began her lady in waiting- Chiara Baratheon- had reported seeing the princess sitting on the iron throne while Aegon pleased her”

Mushroom would add briefly and with a hint of disapproval. No matter what she had the blind trust of the king and the prince and the undeniable love of Queen Alicent, the gods seemed to be in her favor whilst everyone wondered how.

(Y/n) was blessed by the dark world that her entire bloodline owed everything, at nightfall when the castle grew tired (y/n) would burn her candles and open her book, coming in contact with her ancestors as she sacrificed animals or even offered her own drops of blood and whenever she could she would spill Aemonds or Aegons, if you asked her she would say that she did it out of love, to keep them safe and in power, if they climbed the throne it was only natural that she would follow.

“Are you sure about your choice in your gown?”

“Never been more certain of something in my life, don’t you find it flattering?”

“You would be the most comely lady in all of Westeros even with a sack”

“Then it is settled, I am sure Mother will love it as well”

(Y/n) responded light-heartedly as she snaked her arm around Aemonds, she smiled brightly up at him like she always did making his stomach turn in backflips….like she always did.

Admins was taken by his lady wife, he was forever a slave to her and he was the one who had thrown away the key of his cell, his eye would sparkle with admiration any time he would simply gaze at her, her touch brought him goosebumps and her love, oh her love, like a fire that slowly burned him from the inside, a sweet death that was worth a thousand cuts.

“Our deepest apologies, I lost track of time worrying about my bloody hair”

(Y/n) could not afford to seem raddled or scared in front of her father's hawk eye, she paraded in with Aemond linked on her arm and a bright smile of a carefree attitude.

“Mother”

She acknowledged Alicent as her mother years before she was wed to Aemond, bending down to give a kiss on the cheek to the queen that made Alicent smile brightly and turn slightly towards her.

“How are you my flower?”

“Better, the morning sickness seems to be wearing off”

“Morning sickness? Is the princess with child?”

“Indeed… forgive me you haven’t been at court for so long, should I address you as princess, sister, or good mother?”

“Princess will do”

Rhaenyra confirmed through her teeth as her hand went over Daemon which had turned into a fist. Rhaenyra was no fool yet she somewhat understood the reasoning behind the young girl’s actions, left behind and forgotten by her father, motherless by death and fatherless by choice, she had begged Daemon to demand to take her with them but Daemon felt that the bond was unable to be fixed in any way.

(Y/n) only nodded and Aemond pulled out the chair next to Queen Alicent as she always wished to sit right next to her, even Otto had learned not to question it, as the dinner went on and the exhausting speech of King Viserys who just so happened to remember that he has a family that has steadfastly trickled into the chaos that he never even attempted to fix (y/n) also had to endure the forcefully emotional toast of Rhaenyra, still the shock that came from Alicent calling her “a fine queen” was the part that compelled her to rise and take her goblet.

“I would also like to raise a toast to our king who was kind enough to take me in when I had no one and merely but a babe I will always be grateful for that and to my mother, Queen Alicent, who came to my aid and offered me the love and the kind touch of a parent that I was denied by destiny, my love and devotion for her goes beyond words, may they live on and be able to see the fruits of my marriage.”

Daemon was ready to combust from anger. “How fucking dare she?” He thought “I took her from the arms of her dead mother, I begged Viserys to give her a home and now this is how she chooses to repay me?”

As the music played and the wine flowed everyone’s shoulders seemed to relax and laughter would intertwine with the mixture of talks amongst the people that dined.

“Would you do me the honor?”

(Y/n) heard from the back of her, turning only to be met with Prince Jacaerys who was sticking his arm out of her, there was a time when (y/n) and Jacaerys had some type of connection, Jacaerys was kind to her and had even offered to teach her the art of the sword, (y/n) puffed out a breath after she took his hand, no matter how she felt about it she was aware that Alicent wanted this to pass as swiftly as possible with no type of conflict.

“You look breathtaking if that isn’t obvious”

“That is very kind of you to say, my prince”

“I remember there was a time when we did not use such formalities”

“That was a time when my intended had both eyes”

she threw back with a smile still on her lips, as they dance (y/n) might have appeared to be happy although it could not be further from the truth, as they danced around together with a turn that Jacaerys had guided she was able to see both Aegon and Aemond waiting for their moment to attack Jacaerys, the prince was too carefree as he walked in the edge of their swords and it came the time that (y/n) dipped with his one arm around her waist and his free one went up to caress her locks, that was when a sudden booming sound of Aemonds fist on the table was heard, (y/n) immediately stood up and watched Aemond raise his goblet.

“To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey each of them handsome, wise… strong”

“Aemond”

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys”

“I dare you to say that again”

“Why? T’was only a compliment, do you not think yourself strong boy?”

Jacaerys was once again the one to bring violence into the matter, what seemed to be not taken into consideration was that Aemond was now a man-grown, and quite easily with one hand, he pushed Jacaerys onto the floor. (Y/n) walked to Aemond and stood between them, her hands finding his forearms, before she could phrase anything the queen had also walked up to the prince of chaos.

“Why would you say such a thing in front of all these people?”

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family mother, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs”

That was enough to send Jacaerys off again and try to free himself from the guards. The prince only got to make a few steps before Daemon stood between, it seemed like Jacaerys respected the rogue prince which left (y/n) dumbfounded, “who could respect such a buffoon?” She questioned in her mind

As Daemon turned to look at Aemond (y/n) took it upon herself and stood in front of her husband, the same smirk that Daemon had was the one that (y/n) was presented as well, her mismatched eyes reminded him so much of his mothers, “it was a shame that they had to be wasted on her” he thought.

At least he had to appreciate her ever-growing courage, though he didn’t know if he had to congratulate her or fear her, the girl put herself ahead of the man that she was wed just to prove she was just as courageous as the man she grew to hate.

“Go to your chambers, all of you”

Rhaenyra commanded but it appeared that (y/n) and Daemon had gone on a standoff, eyeballing one another like animals waiting for a slight move so the other could attack, both of them spewed fire from the eyes.

Aemond admired her, he would not dare to touch her and quite frankly he did not want to, he thoroughly enjoyed the sight of his love standing her ground against such a vile man.

“Little flower, please”

Alicent pleaded as her shaky hands found (y/n) 's upper arm and gave it a slight squeeze, (y/n) inhaled sharply although she only took a step back when Daemon diverted his focus to his lady wife, (y/n) offered a smirk to Alicent and after she gave a kiss on her cheek to calm her down, she knew that Alicent was never fond of such tension.

“Get some rest Mother, a long morrow awaits us”

The only way towards their chambers was to pass by Daemon, so step by step (y/n) and Aemond stood by his side, (y/n) halted and faced Daemon right in the eye.

“Let us solve this another day, Father”

It would have been better if she had called him the vilest of names, that name was enough for Daemon to reach for his sword and Rhaenyra to beg him to stop by pushing him back.

(Y/n)s laughter was heard as she walked away with her husband following close, the second the doors of the dining hall closed Aemond had snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her for a deep kiss to which (y/n) responded with the same passion.

“I did not know such things excited you, my love”

“How could it not? Any man would implore for an ounce of your attention after such performance”

“You always demand my attention Aemond”

“Can you blame me?”

He cheekily responded. (Y/n) only smiled and kissed him again pulling him in, she did not have much time, though a small stop to collect her prize of a very excited husband would not hurt.

“Tonight I need you in my chamber”

“Where will you do it tonight my love?”

“The simplest of cuts… right here”

She said as she let her index finger grace over the middle of his chest, she had to offer something right before the king died to make sure the will stayed spinning towards her.

“Whatever you want, my love, as long as I get my treat after”

“I could never deny myself the pleasure of you”

“Let us go before Aegon catches up to us and steals you away from me

Requests are open!

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issdisgrace · 1 month ago

Note

Can you write something about overstimulating Fernando?

-Dionne

OVERSTIMULATION WITH FERNANDO

WARNINGS: Overstimulation, yeah that's it also sorry if this ain't top quality i'm literally falling asleep writing this

Ok so I think there’s two ways Fernando likes overstimulation.

So first and the most common use of it is as a punishment. You told him he couldn’t touch his cock for two weeks because he’s been bad but you come home one day to find him jerking off. So your like ok fine if you want to cum so bad, I let you cum. And you start jerking him off and when he eventually cums you don’t pay any minds to his pleas and continue to jerk him off. Ringing orgasm after orgasm until he’s shaking, until he’s sobbing, until he’s shooting blanks. He’s a mess, he’s a wreck, his brained is fried, he’s blabbering semi incoherent Spanish that you can just barely make out is a prayer. To who he’s praying to you have no clue but it’s hot. And a part of you wants to continue to ring him dry but you know when he’s had enough. And even though the main event of sort is finish doesn’t mean the show has ended. You still get to see how pretty he looks, ragged breathing trying to catch his breath, tears slowing revealing pink streaks down his face, cum all over his stomach, and his poor abused cock soft laying against his thigh. He looks truly amazing and it’s a sight you savor.

So the other application is as a prize. People may think how is this any different from the other one. This one is soft, light, and sweet while the other one is hard, rough, and brutal. Fernando loves overstimulation as a prize because it’s such a loving scene. Candles, rose petals, you know the whole 9 yards. It usually starts out with giving Fernando a massage or something to get him relaxed. You kiss up and down his body, worshiping like a god, treating him like he’s made of glass. He feels so dainty and special. Then you start sucking him off. It's slow and loving, and Fernando knows better than to complain about the speed. So he just sits back and focuses on just your movements, blocking everything else out. It's nice, it's peaceful. And even after he cums you don't let up, you just continue your pace until you've drawn 3 orgasms out of him. At that point Fernando is very needy and since this is his reward you allow him to dictate what happens next. He of course wants you to fuck him so you oblige him, gently opening him up with your fingers, drawing another orgasm out of him as you finger him. Then you start fucking him and he swears he is in heaven. You're fucking deep and slow, hitting all the right spots, jerking him of with your soft hands. Its overwhelming. The love radiating from every movement has Fernando cumming in no time. And like before you continue chasing your high causing Fernando to cum 3 more times before you've even finished. He looks so pretty fucked out, a smile on his face, as he floats in a state of serenity.

#fernando alonso #f1 #fernando alonso x male reader #fernando alonso x reader #f1 x male reader #f1 x reader

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klausysworld · 2 years ago

Note

Klaus being in a rut which bothers him what if he gets too harsh with Y/N but she is all ready for him and convinces him to use her as he pleases

Thank you😊

I Trust You

Klaus had been spending half his time avoiding me and the other half clinging to me. Since unlocking his werewolf side he’d been struggling from time to time, we’d discovered that he has pattern of falling into a rut, kind of like going into heat. It makes him more aggressive, possessive and drives his desire.

Each time he’s been in this state he has refused to let me help him, wont let me touch him, wont touch me and avoids basically the entire female population because he fears that his mind would cloud over and he’d cheat on me. He’s a very dramatic person.

He started showing signs of his rut at the end of last week, scenting me, keeping us both inside, then i found him getting himself off and i knew he was falling into it. He’s been pushing me away the last couple days, urging me to leave him be, i woke up and he was on the couch while panting in his sleep

So today i decided i’d trap him. I dressed up in a new lingerie set, all white with a black silk robe loosely wrapped around me. I had the lights dimmed, candles lit around the room, blankets piled around the bed almost nest like and positioned myself in the centre, on my knees with my thighs spread so he could see my lace panties. My hair was in a low bun with a few strands out at the front and a white ribbon in my hair.

I quietly put my hands in my underwear to get myself off before he would arrive, if he could smell me he’d be more persuaded to let me help. I applied a little more pressure to my clit softly grunting and grinding against myself. I heard a door close from downstairs and quickly pulled my hand out, i wiped my fingers and made sure everything was how i wanted it to be.

I could feel my heart pattering away, oh god what if he ran away? Silently praying that he would take this well i rolled my shoulders back and opened the robe letting it fall to my elbows

The door handle turned and Klaus walked in, his gaze immediately on mine, eyes wide, nostrils flaring and lips parted. Be took very hesitant steps forward and then backwards again

“my love… we can’t be doing this today” he uttered, his eyes travelling down my body with a growing hunger within them

“please Nik, i want you to, i need you to fuck me, i need you to use me for your rut” his chest rose and fell faster as he slowly closed the door behind him

“i could hurt you” he muttered while reluctantly climbing onto the bed so he was sat on his knees infront of mine.

“i wouldn’t mind” i whispered while taking his hand and putting it on my breast which he squeezed instantly with a groan

“i won’t be able to stop myself if you change your mind” his voice was low, eyes impossibly dark

“i trust you” i told him while guiding his hand to slide down to between my legs, he pressed against my clit through my panties and sucked in a breath

“i had to touch myself because you wouldn’t do it for me, please i need you to do something to me, please fuck me Klaus, breed me, use me, whatever you want to do, i’ll take whatever you give me and i’ll give back whatever you want” his head lulled forward and dropped to the space between my shoulder and neck, his heavy breaths hot against my skin. I reach up and ran a hand through his hair urging him to do what he desired. He grunted as i ran my other hand down his chest between us. When i brushed down his abs until i harshly gripped his crotch through his jeans making his gasp into my neck

“bite me Klaus, i know you want to, i want you to, please do it” i all but moaned while palming him firmly. His open mouth pressed against me, two sharp teeth slowly sinking into me, we both moaned out as he fed from me. I quickly i undid his pants urging him to kick them off his legs and pulling him on top of me as laid back.

“touch me” i whispered and this time he didn’t struggle, his hands immediately gripping my breasts tightly, almost painfully. I arched into him further as he pulled away from my neck with a gasp, his eyes shining a bright golden, purple veins beneath his eyes as he hummed a growl. I looked up at him with doe eyes while he dragged his colossal hands up and down my body. He split my bra in two and tossed it away, i tugged at his top making him throw it off and quickly rip the remaining underwear from my body, i went to push the robe off but his grip on my wrists stopped me

“no no we keep this on” he muttered pulling it up over my shoulders

“okay” i whispered while he brought my hands up over my head. His other hand continued to stroke my skin from my inner thighs up to my neck and then back down over and over, his eyes flickering between gold and blue

“Nik…just let go” i nodded to him and he frowned a little digging his nails into my wrist as he inwardly battled with his own subconscious

“Klaus, let go, just let it happen” i encourage wrapping my legs around his waist to pull his hips to mine, his covered cock pressing against my bare pussy. He growled softly as his eyes now remained a solid gold. The sound of fabric tearing was heard before he then tossed his boxers, i arched my back as his dick now sat at my entrance. His hand applied pressure to my wrists once again before letting go.

I made sure my legs were as wide open as they could be as he pushed his tip inside of me. It only took one harsh thrust for him to fill me completely, my arms flew forward to grab his shoulders while i moaned loudly, his pace was immediately brutal, fast and harsh forcing my walls to tense and clamp around him. Klaus was always rather gentle in bed, he was always afraid to harm me, this was an entirely different experience.

My eyes were screwed shut as i tried to contain the endless amount of moans i was creating, Klaus grabbed a wrist in each hand and held them by my head, pressing me down into the mattress. All i could hear was down right pornographic sounds of our bodies moving together, his guttural groans and my own pleasure filled sounds.

I could feel every vein in his thick cock pressed into my velvety walls while i squeezed tightly around him

“oh- mygod!” i chocked, i could feel him at my cervix and i could hear the bed frame smacking into the wall behind us. I forced my eyes open to see an almost feral looking Klaus, his hair was already damp, a thin layer of sweat causing him to look as though he were glowing. His animalistic eyes found mine as he panted heavily, a softness overcame his eyes for a moment, his pace faltering before he began fucking harder, rougher. My wrists were beginning to bruise, i could feel it and i knew how upset he would be later if he hurt me

“K-Klaus let go” i muttered through my sharp intakes of breath, he did so almost instantly and instead gripping the blankets beside me, i brought my hands up to his face, stroking the apples of his cheeks lightly, watching the veins dance across them while he groaned loudly. Despite his animalistic behaviour i couldn’t help but feel more in love with him, seeing all sides of him made me feel closer to him emotionally.

Within my lower abdomen that familiar tension began to build. My eyes shut again and my hands pulled at his hair as i cried out a moan, i could feel him spilling his release inside me with a deep drawn out moan. I don’t think Klaus has ever cum before i have until today, his movements didn’t slow like they usually did after he finished, he just continued to fuck as quick and as hard as his body would physically allow. I could feel my first orgasm quickly approaching as the entire bed shook with force and he groaned loudly. I chanted his name in a raspy whisper while my walls closed around him, his tip was hitting against my spot so fast it was as though he was rubbing it, i moaned out for him while i let go of the tension and clamped around him tightly

“you’re doing really well” he uttered so quietly i felt as though i imagined it as i fluttered my eyes open to see him still panting heavily as his hips bucked repeatedly. I squeezed his waist with my legs making him grunt. He soon grabbed my left knee lifting it up and over his shoulder

“hold onto my arms” he muttered as i felt my body jolting along with his thrusts. I nodded as i quickly moved to grab his biceps. I dug my nails into his skin slightly so that i could attempt to stabilise myself, i gripped tightly as he kept up his bruising pace. My brows furrowed together and i whimpered quietly as his tip kept going for that spot within me. I heard him make a snarl like sound as his teeth grazed my throat, the opposite side to last time. He wasn’t as gentle as they sunk in this time, he drank with much more need, and the overwhelming combination of both his teeth and cock inside me had me letting go around him again. He was quick to release after me as he pulled his head away from my neck and groaning, he came so much i felt it coming down my thigh. I glanced to his upper arms where i noticed my nails had drawn blood making me pull away from him while he slowed down.

His eyes were still flickering between colours as he licked the blood from his lips and pulled out from my convulsing hole. He moved back putting my leg back down, he left a trail of kisses down from my knee to my ankle. I watched him quietly as his face neared my core. His tongue greedily lapped at my thighs, my throat felt dry from the continued flow of noise i had given. When his lips enveloped my clit all i could do was gasp, my body lurched forward making me whine at the ache from where he was now missing.

My body collapsed back to lay flat as he now let his wolf out to play once again. His tongue inside me, mouth moving harshly, clit toyed with, g-spot curled into. Despite not pounding into me he was still able to bring me to my peak impossibly fast. I felt his hands on my thighs, two finger tapped above my clit before sliding done and into my entrance, they slipped in and out repeatedly while his eager mouth still worshipped at my button. He panted through his actions, his hot breath only adding to the sensations. I didn’t bother trying to prolong the orgasm, choosing to just let it wash over me with a throaty moan. He seemed to be stuffing any remains of our pleasure back inside me as his fingers moved from my inner thighs to my cunt.

“gonna have you full of my babies love, all mine, gonna have you all night” he muttered over and over in various ways. He made his way back up my body with kisses peppered up my body

“Nik?” i questioned cautiously watching as the animal was put away for a moment, my soft loving Nik back in control

“do you need me to stop?” he asked with a light kiss to my lips

“a drink, i just need to drink” i rasped and he nodded. Thankfully i had predicted this and already had water bottles waiting on the bedside table. He hurriedly brought the water to my lips and helped my sit to pour it down mu throat, i gently pushed him away when i was finished and he checked me over

“okay, i’m ready, i can do it” i nodded kissing his lips in encouragement

“are you certain?” he asked quietly

“i want you to do this, and look..you stopped, you gave me a minute, you can do it, i trust you so much” he nodded slowly and kissed my cheek

“i love you and i will never hurt you” he whispered while positioning himself over me again

“i love you too”

and with that, the night continued.

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just-some-random-blogger · 9 months ago

Text

Edge Of Ever After | 1

Part 2

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you… you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader POV shifts!, smut (piv, emotional sex, praise kink, breeding kink), enemies to lovers, remnants of forced marriage, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: so this is a the sequel to my Safe Keeping series. both that and this is originally posted on ao3. you dont have to read the previous series to understand what's going on, but naturally, it will make more sense if you do. I've decided not to tag everyone that asked me to tag them in safe keeping because this is another series after all. ❤❤❤ hope you like it!

Brown Wood rarely ever has its lights out, as it housed so many people. Rare were the times the place succumbed to darkness. Still, there were moments when all the servants, maids, men, and women were asleep and not candle was lit.

Lord Clegane purposefully returned to Brown Wood amidst this darkness. As he opened and closed the gate with as much care as he could, determined not to make a sound, he finds himself thinking of the first time he came here with his wife, her servant, and their dog. The darkness Brown Wood was succumbed to was not the same it was now. Where once there was fearful abandonment now had peaceful slumber.

If you told him this was the childhood home of his lady's family, he'd believe you; it was a large estate, abandoned as it was. And if you add it had been abandoned once because of a plague of woodland monsters that ended killing her family, well, he'd still believe you, because damned if he doesn't.

That's where he had come from, the cursed forest.

But the Brown Wood estate was no longer cursed, and it was all because of her, the sun of this side of Westeros, his beloved wife. It was because of her that this haunted place was now bustling with life, because of his bride... that he was so eagerly avoiding.

Sandor prayed to the gods that his wife's loyal mutts would not wake to the smell of him. He prayed as he reached for the door handle that they had not slept near the fireplace in the living area, but if they did, that they were too tired to wake.

He sucks a breath and enters his home.

Darkness. Silence. Nothing.

He releases the breath as he shut the door.

Pants. Patters. Chuffs.

"Fuck."

Sandor looks down and catches flashes of dark furred creatures circling around him. One, he recognized to be Rose because of her size, got on her back legs and rested her front paws on him. The other two began to get excited as he swatted their sister away. They thought it a challenge to start playing.

He recognizes Sage as he softly barks and immediately drops on his knees to shush the dog.

Sage and his sisters come upon him and begin to lick his body. He would have tolerated it, had he not been covered in black, tar-like muck left over on his skin and armor.

"Fuck off, pups," he whispers as he pushes them away and stands. Lilac, ever the big mouth, began to bark in protest. Her barks echoed across the whole place.

"SHHH!" he silences in a panic, "you're going to wake your mum!"

His ghost nearly leaves him when he hears, "she was never asleep to begin with."

Sandor turns and finally spots the woman that had been sitting in darkness all this time. "Bloody seven, girl," he gasps in shock, "what are you doing in the dark?"

He walks over, lighting a candle on the table, then looks at her. Her eyes were dark and tired. Her arms were crossed and jaw was clenched.

He watches her stand and look him once over.

He immediately says, "I'm not injured."

She rolls her eyes and looks away, "I can tell, Hound."

His face twitches as she walks past him. He follows after but winces when she hisses that he better not keep the candle open.

And so the Hound blows the flame out and the rest of the dogs follow their master across the place.

He wants to tell her he did good today. He really did! He saved the villagers from an attack, helped them with their cow problem too! And he counted and killed 20 monsters in the fucking woods. Twenty!

But that was the fucking problem, and he knew it. Hell, even the pups knew it.

He was spending so much time trying to eviscerate the tar fucks he was barely home anymore. But what was he to do? Not kill the them and have his wife go on an expedition to fucking Volantis looking for a witch Littlefinger told her to look for? Fuck no. He would rather feel her sheer disappointment for coming home late than to have her go to a foreign land looking for answers she doesn't even know for certain she's going to get.

Sandor soon realizes she's leading him off to the bathroom. She opens the door and lights candles for him.

"The water is surely cold now, but you'll have to make due," she says as she brings a flame to four waxen cylinders. After setting them down, she shoos the pups that followed them in and closes the door once they were out. She then walks over and helps him out of his sticky armor.

Sandor thinks she's like a fairy in this light, though she was clearly displeased with him and exhausted from waiting up.

"Forgive me for staying out late," he mutters, wanting nothing but to hold her arms as she removed his top. He wouldn't dare touch her in this state though, caked in muck.

She scoffs, "I'll forgive you when you stop doing it."

Once Sandor was out of his metal top, she looks up at him and sighs, "bathe quickly."

"Aye," he nods surely, "I will."

"I cannot sleep alone."

"Aye," he says weaker, "I know."

"Yet still you make me wait for you," she retorts tiredly.

"… I thought you'd be able to sleep with the pups."

"The pups aren't you, Sandor."

"I-"

She walks off to wash her hands. Sandor scrams to help her.

Once her hands are clean, she curtsies and exits the bathroom.

"I'll be quick," he says, because he can't say 'I didn't think it through.'

She simply hums in acknowledgment.

My eyes were heavy, head was hurting. My whole body was crying out for respite, yet I could not sleep. I hear the door. I slowly open my eyes.

I feel Sandor draw near, but he doesn't lie beside me. I barely make out his form but I hear him kneel by the bed. He takes my hand slowly into his.

"Come to bed," I mumble under my breath but even I can't hear it with how low it was.

I open my eyes enough to make out his face, at least as much as the darkness would allow me.

He speaks with the softest of voices "I don't want you to go to sleep upset with me."

I don't have it in me to continue a conversation. Instead I pull away from him and scoot back.

Sandor is perfectly still on his spot.

Once there was a good space between us, I beckon him over by patting and rubbing the bed.

Sandor climbs to my side and I immediately sprawl on top of him. The smell of his body was a comfort, the feel of his form and warmth nearly made me faint.

I could feel his tension. I rub his ribs and shush him, "go to sleep."

Sandor lifts his head to look at me. After, he lets himself relax and stare at the ceiling until sleep takes him.

When I wake up, I'm laid atop my husband. My head was rested by his left collar bone and my leg was thrown across his hips.

It takes me a few moments to realize he was rubbing my thigh. Upon looking at his hand, then his face, I confirm, he was already awake.

Sandor looks at me and frowns.

I frown back and raise my brows.

He brushes my hair away from my face, "you're mighty tired, girl."

I relax and realize what the frown was for. Normally, twas I that woke up earlier. He was concerned because that was not the case today. "I cannot sleep well without you."

"Aye," he sighs. He brings his hand to the curve of my bum, "apologies."

My breathing grows heavy as he pushes my dress up.

"I feel terrible," he mutters, "let me make it up to you." Sandor kneads at my hip and sequentially pulls me atop him.

I do not say a word, I simply let him rub his hands on my thighs. I rest my palms on his chest and watch him examine my body.

His hands find their way up my nightgown and into my smallclothes. He locks eyes with me as he tugs them down, testing to see if I'd give him permission.

I lick my lips and tilt my head. I grab his wrists. We stare at each other for a moment.

"I do not like this routine," I mutter.

Sandor's face betrays him. He looks panicked.

I huff and shake my head, "you taking me because you're guilty."

He clenches his jaw.

"I do suppose is better than… nothing… but…"

My heart leaps into my throat when Sandor calls my name. It was a rare occasion when he did, as he opted pet names; it did things to me. When I tense, he takes the opportunity to pull away and grasp my wrists.

"Tell me how to make it up to you," he whispers.

Sandor and I watch each other's stillness.

After a moment of waiting, I pull my hands away and lean into him again. I prop my hands on his chest and he allows me to do as I please. After some shimmying and hovering, I rid myself of my underwear.

He watches as I toss it off the bed and straddle snuggly on his hips. I grab his wrists and bring his hands underneath my clothes, a silent encouragement to touch me.

The Hound squeezes and claws. I suppress a sound when he bucks into me. I feel my belly swirl in excitement but I do not allow my mind to be fogged before I get to say what's long overdue.

"Stop hunting at night."

Sandor releases a deep breath as he shifts upward on the bed. He licks his lips, "you know I won't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm so close to purging those fucking monsters," he mutters as his hands roam up my body.

"H-" I whimper when he kneads my breasts. I huff, "h-how do you know that?"

"Because they're few and far between," he shifts upward again and sequentially pulls my dress off me. Before I can cover myself, his mouth covers me, or more accurately my right breast.

I lean into him and grip his shoulder.

He sucks on my flesh then licks my nipple. He grips my ribs and further sinks into my bosom. He brings his face into my cleavage and begins to suck. He was intent, I knew, on leaving marks.

I feel him begin to rock his hips and I audibly react to the feel of his pants against my bare flesh.

I bite my lower lip and grab at his shirt, attempting to pull it off him.

He groans and pulls me closer into him, unwilling to separate his mouth from my skin. He pushes my hair back and trails kisses up to my neck. He nips my skin before finally pulling away.

Now fully sat up, he looks at me darkly. He rubs the places he'd kissed, as if examining his work, then finally, takes his top off himself.

He stills when I fondle with his waistband. He rather unwillingly allows me to move and rid of his pants. Once it was past his bum, he pulls me back down like he was scared I'd run off.

I whimper when he does so. Sandor rids himself of his final piece of clothing.

"Dance on my cock, darling."

My breath hitches. My cheeks flush.

His hands sprawl across my thighs, covering them nearly wholly and urges me to move back and forth.

I gulp as I feel my body heat up as I maneuver my hips.

The groan that leaves his mouth is high praise to me.

I garble out a sound when his thumb rubs at my nub. He hisses when he feels the wetness there, "fuck, sweetheart. You drive a man mad."

He plays with me some more then pulls his hand away to spread the wetness across his fingers, "gods be fucking good, all this for me?"

My face burns with embarrassment. I bring my hand across my chest, "Sandor."

He perks with concern and immediately cages me in his arms. He peppers kisses down my neck, "no, my lady. I'm in awe of you."

I mewl when he digs his fingers into my hair and tugs at the roots.

"Such sweetness...." he whispers against my ear, "this for an ugly dog?"

"S-stop it," I quip and give him a shove.

He pulls back and looks down at me.

I hold his gaze and scowl, "don't speak like that."

"What? R'you saying you think me pretty?"

"I do," I retort.

He laughs and rubs my arms to warm me, as if I could be cold against him. He grabs my hips then ruts into me. I make a sound as I watch him take his hardened length and slowly sink into me. I gasp as I feel him press balls deep into me.

He shudders against my ear, "liar."

The Hound begins to thrust upward and the sounds I make are muffled by his mouth. He kisses me like he's starved, and perhaps he was.

He tightens his arms around me. He buries his face into my neck. He breathes in deeply. He sighs, "color me flattered though."

I squeak when he shoves me on my back and pushes my calves into my thighs. He grunts, "fuck ya good for it."

I screw my eyes shut and throw my head back as Sandor snaps into me. With every flick of his hips, the bed creaks and I move farther and farther down the bed. He has so push me down in place to keep me from slipping any farther. He pins me by my shoulder and brings my legs up in front of him.

My legs rest his shoulder. He kisses my ankle, "my darling wife."

The Hound persists in a rough and quick pace, hardly stopping, slowing only to tease me. He gnaws at whatever part of me his mouth can reach and grunts as he explores my body. He molds me against him, hands pawing at my flesh, touching, feeling, steadying.

I'm a toy, a chew toy of a hound, something he craves to stretch, gnaw, and tear but so is very selfish and protective of.

He rubs my belly and it pushes me on edge.

When I come, I'm exhausted; I always am.

When he comes, he's spent and hot and dripping; by extension, as am I.

Sandor curses as he gives his final thrusts. I'm shaking and raw beneath him. He eventually stops and looks down upon his destruction. He spreads the slick on my thighs. He wraps my legs around him like a belt.

"I love to see you like this," he mutters in between breaths.

I heave as I blink slowly. My eyes act like I didn't just wake up from my sleep; I feel exhausted.

"Want to see you heavy with child," he rubs my belly, "my child. Fuck. I want to see you full. Love to see you leaking but I can't have that."

I try to move my legs, he instantly prevents me, "a bit more, love."

"… my leg is cramping," I cover my face with my arm.

He presses my thighs back into my chest, "just a bit more."

Sandor was laid back in bed, tracing his wife's spine with his fingers. She was straddled around his waist, laid upon him like a blanket. He listened to the sound of her steady breathing and slowly, involuntary, they begin to breathe at the same pace.

He could not express the relief, the astonishment he felt the very first time she let him hold her. The fact was, his tongue itches to tell her, to thank her for allowing him to relish the softness of her body, the warmth of her skin, the gentleness of her, even when she did not have to, even when he was not she was not getting anything in return, not like when they had sex.

But he would not express this. For what good was thanks if he had nothing to show for?

Words are empty.

For his lady, he'd carve out every skull and lay them upon her feet. He was good at that. But words? Empty.

Sandor watches as his wife stirred and looked at him.

Her hair was wild, skin sticky, eyes heavy, lips swollen. If gods were real, she was one of them.

"I think we should get dressed, husband."

His stomach skips at the name. He hated that he was so affected by it when he knew that it was duty to her; all she could feel for him was borne out of duty.

He brushes her hair back and nods, "I will not keep you longer than you'd like."

He notices how she purses her lips. He notices how she smiles. A dutiful smile.

Sandor smiles back. He wishes she'd grin at him the way she did her pups but he was hardly anything to grin about.

He watches as she pushes herself up and stands. He watches as she grabs her shift from the floor and heads to the bathroom.

Sandor rolls on the bed, breathing in the scent of their fucking… their love making. He loved her.

How could he love her if he hurt her?

He sighs and fantasizes about his wife being with child. He wonders if she'd like him more or stop caring for him once that happens.

He shakes it out of his head before he makes himself sad.

Later that day, he's back to training the boys how not to get themselves killed with their own swords. They've learned to be punctual all on their own (Polly snitches on whoever was late for the day, though he's never really set a time when practice starts).

Sage liked watching practice. He never did anything besides walk around and sniff whatever he could put his nose to, but he was always there. In some way, Sandor was very touched by this.

He was very protective of the pup, and found himself watching the small creature more than the kids he's supposed to be teaching.

But of course, he doesn't give a fuck about anyone else when his wife comes out.

"Sandor."

Immediately, Sandor turns around and perks up at the sound of the voice. Unbeknownst to him, the rest of the people in the yard do as well.

Lucy walks next to her lady. She holds a basket in one hand while she brings the other around her lady's arm. He feels a bitterness in his mouth, a bitter envy over the comfort the two women had with each other. He knows he'll never have that with his wife, but it doesn't hurt him any less.

"Lucy and I will go out to the market."

He drops everything and steps forward, "I'll accompany you."

Sage sticks his tongue out as he runs towards his beloved master, as if he understood the conversation, as if saying he, too, would be coming.

Sandor takes one look at the pup and says, "you sure as fuck 're not invited, dog."

Lady Clegane hushes the dog and reiterates a puppy cannot join them, then she looks up at Lord Clegane, "you do not have to join us either."

Sandor doesn't argue, he simply looks at Lucy, who was giving him a greasy look, and heads off to the gates.

Sandor had absolutely no idea which part of the market they were headed, so when they got there, he constantly glanced over his shoulder until eventually, his wife stopped at a vegetable stand. He turns back and hovers by them.

"Do you think we should get pumpkins?" Lady Clegane asks while absentmindedly holding an onion.

Lucy tilts her head, "we could but I don't think I could carry it."

"I'll carry it," Sandor chirps.

The two turn to him. His wife smiles and Lucy grins like a fool.

They end up buying a pumpkin that was nearly the size of his head.

Sandor is unable to make out what the two women were talking about as they walked in front of him because of how many people waved good morning or greeted him far too jovially. At a point, the women had to stop as Sandor got held up by a crowd of people wanting to have small talk with him.

Like a star, his wife saves him with her shining smile, garnering all the attention of the people for herself and quickly dispelling it. He has no idea how she does it.

They move on after and then his wife spots a stand of strawberries. He vaguely hears her excitedly tell Lucy how much she loves strawberry pie. Lucy tells her she knows this in the same excited way.

Lady Clegane is allowed to sample a strawberry. The Hound catches himself smiling at the way his wife savored the fruit.

They buy a basket full of strawberries and, just as Lucy and her lady walk away, Sandor asks the vendor where he could strawberry seeds. He doesn't get a straight answer right away and by the time he does, the women have walked off quite far.

Thankfully, by the time they notice their Hound was missing, Sandor managed to come back with a pouch of strawberry seeds in his pocket. He doesn't say anything about it though.

When they get back to Brown Wood, he immediately asks the groundskeeper, Job, if he could help him plant strawberries.

One of the servant girls, Margaret, was helping me out today. I was attempting to bake strawberry pie, and after three failed attempts, it was shaping up to be a futile task.

Margaret, face flushed and temples moistened with sweat, placed the fourth pie she fetched from the oven onto the kitchen counter. I frown as she wipes her forehead on her sleeve but play it off when she turns to me with a grin. Margaret says, "it smells so good, milady."

I give her back a smile, "I am glad to hear it."

She watches as I grab the knife and lean onto the counter. She says, "I'm very, very, very sure that we managed to make the pie just the way you like it."

I chuckle at the girl and place a hand on her shoulder, "I would hope so. I feel terrible for taking you from your chores, Margaret."

She perks and immediately shakes her head and hands, "don't be, milady! We all of us love helping you out," she brushes her hair away from her face, "even if we have to make twenty more pies to suit your taste, I would not complain."

I laugh softly as I take a towel and hold the hot pie tin in place. I take a slice of the dessert, though it was still scalding, and transfer it to my plate. I then move it towards the 3 other pies on the counter.

The truth is, there was nothing wrong with the pies. I had Margaret help me with making them precisely because she knew how to and I didn't. It's just that they didn't taste like the ones in my childhood, and I could not take it.

There was a pit in my stomach because of my lacking attempts. It was not of hunger, make no mistake, it was of longing.

I take a forkful of pie from my plate and take my time blowing some air on to the jammy thing before taking it into my mouth.

Margaret watches me with anticipation as I chew.

I look at her hopeful eyes, wanting nothing but to tell her we finally did it, but I supply her the truth, "it still tastes different."

Margaret deflates. I place the fork down on my plate as I lick my lips.

"Although the lemon and the cream did help a lot," I offer as consolation.

The girl perks and claps her hands, "then we're on the right path!"

I clear my throat and smile.

"Perhaps we can try adding other fruits into it. Or maybe you can try to recall some more details about the pie? Like a smell? Vanilla is hard to miss."

"Mmm, I don't think they added vanilla." I push the plate towards Margaret, "have a try, but be careful. It's still piping hot."

She grins at me, "thank you, milady!" then grins at the pie, taking her own fork.

I laugh at her, feeling a giddy sensation as I watch her lean forward as she takes a slice.

Margaret was the youngest out of the servant girls. She was 10 and 5 but looked quite mature for her age because of her height and fuller figure. Her demeanor was fully that of a darling girl though. Her parents used to be bakers. She told me she does not remember where their bodies were buried, so she occasionally offers prayers for them at an oak tree she used to swing on.

I imagine what it would be like for me to have my own child here in this moment. Would they also like strawberry pie? Would they care to help make it? Would they smile at me like Margaret?

I look up and see the Hound marching over. He looked a bit winded, and I figure he came from training. My belly tingles as we make eye contact.

Margaret finally takes a bite and she quite literally jumps up. She covers he mouth as she speaks, "THIS IS DELICIOUS!"

I giggle, "is it really?"

"By the gods, milady. You mean to tell me what you used to eat was better than this?"

I chuckle and watch as Sandor walks over. He heads for the cupboard where he immediately snatches a bottle of wine. He uncorks it with a pop and chugs it.

"Ehm, in a word it is," I reply to Margaret, "all I know is that it tastes different. I can't quite figure what however."

Sandor lets out a satisfied breath as he pulls the bottle away from his lips. He walks towards me, and it seems as though Margaret noticed him only now, judging by the way she jolted back and quickly greeted him.

The Hound ignores her though as he scrutinizes the countertop. He turns to me, "been baking all day, have you, little girl?"

I part my lips and battle with myself on a response. On one hand, I want to nag about how I was suddenly little girl again, but then again I quite enjoyed how his lips subtly curved upward as he spoke it.

Margaret steps back as Sandor takes up all the space by my side.

Although it was not glaringly obvious, there was a look of amusement in my husband's eyes. He sets the wine next to the pie slice and leans on the counter to get eye level with me, "you gonna give me a taste?"

I watch as he licks his lips and catch the way the wine stained them.

And so, to ward off my inner turmoil, I nag him about that instead, "alright. A slice in return for this," I snag the wine bottle, shocked by how he managed to drink it half empty already, though I really shouldn't. "You've had enough wine for today, Hound."

Sandor straightens up, dumbfounded by the turn of events. He shifts on his spot to watch me hand over the wine to Margaret, "get me a pitcher of water, my dear."

"Fuck water," Sandor scoffs.

Margaret looks between me and Sandor, heavily unsure and anxious of what to do next.

"Give me the bottle, wench," the Hound barks.

Margaret gulps and I take a step between them.

"Stop it," I scowl at him.

"But-"

"You won't enjoy the flavor of the pie if you ruin your tongue with wine." I look over and dismiss Margaret. She quickly curtsies and runs off.

"Hey- GIVE IT BA-"

"Stop it!" I grab his shoulders, "quit scaring the girl!"

The Hound walks back as I push him, "she took my wine!"

"You can have wine at supper," I quip, "if you're going to have pie, just have pie."

Sandor huffs as I release him. I then take my fork and slice a chunk for him. I bring the fork to my lips and take a moment to blow on the pie. Once it's cool enough, I bring my fork towards Sandor, my other hand underneath it to catch any falling crumbs. I get on my tiptoes to have a better hold on the fork.

He pulls his head back at first, but two seconds later, he leans in and takes a bite.

I relax on the pads of my feet and put the fork down.

He chews as he looks down on me.

I stare up at him with expectation.

He licks his lips and nods, "it's good."

I wait for him to say anything more but he doesn't. I press my lips into a line, "that's nice to hear."

He looks at me for a moment, hums, and tilts his head, "what do I owe you, then?"

"What?"

"What do I owe you?"

I raise my brows.

"Want me to feed you next?" he raises a brow.

I furrow my brows, "no…? You don't owe me anything."

He hums and shakes his head, "how about a kiss?"

"What?"

Sandor smiles lopsidedly. He bends and places his hands on my waist, yanking me into him. My body blazes with crackling flames as I'm pressed against him.

Before he can lean in, I push him by his chest with both hands. I immediately turn my face away and quip with my eyes shut, "you don't have to kiss me!"

I hold my breath. Sandor watches. Slowly, whatever expression he held slips off and gets tugged down along with the corners of his lips.

He releases me and I catch my breath. Sandor feels like his hands and arms were foreign appendages that had no business being on him. He awkwardly clenches and unclenches his fists.

I turn back to him with knit brows. He looks at me with a hard expression.

"You don't owe me things, Sandor."

His expression tightens.

I huff and place a hand on his chest, "I don't do things so… you have to repay me…"

A deep line forms between his brows.

I shake my head, shrug and smile softly, "I do them because I want to… you should only do the same."

He sighs through his nostrils and takes the hand I had on his chest. He brings it into his large ones and looks at them.

He opens his mouth and speaks so softly, under his breath, "you have such a strong sense of duty."

I blink at his words, thinking they somehow feel out of context. I figure it was true anyway, so I agree, "a sense of duty keeps me together."

Sandor turns back to me, "just as your duty being my wife."

I raise my brows.

He kisses the back of my hand before setting it down. He nods at me as he mutters, "I want what you want… If you don't want me to kiss you, then I won't."

My eyes widen, "I- I didn't say that."

He chuckles dryly, "you pulled away so fervently."

"Because you asked me what you owed!" I exclaimed, "you don't owe me."

He laughs a bit louder, "everything's got a price."

For a moment we stare at each other.

"Then how much do I owe you?"

He seems to thinks for a moment. He offers no response.

I suck in a breath, "if you want to kiss me, kiss me. Kiss me because you want to, not because… you owe me." I feel pathetic as I add, "I do not wish to buy your affection."

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

I feel my mouth go dry. It's as though my voice is taken from me and I barely manage to croak out a, "yes."

It takes too long. The Hound does not believe it. He shakes his head and says with no conviction, "very well."

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arioloyal · 1 year ago

Note

Yayy you're taking requests now!! If I may, can you write one where Baldwin's health improves and every woman wants to try their luck with him. But he remains loyal to the one who was with him all the time.

I love it that the fandom is growing have more talented writers so thanks in advance 💕💕

Hi!. Thank you for your words♡. To be honest, the fandom activity has decreased recently, so I decided to start writing by myself. Although it doesn't get enough notice, I will try my best. I hope you like it💖

(King baldwin iv x reader oneshot)

Warning: mention of d×eath and blood, leprosy

[Persia empire- 1181]

...About 3 months had passed since my father's death and the time did not help. Millions of thoughts passed through my head every day. Did he die because of the heavy burden of my sins? Is this God's punishment?

This morning at sunrise I kissed my mother's hand and set off. I always heard from pilgrims who had returned that Jerusalem is the best place to ask for forgiveness.

I jumped on my black horse and galloped forward. My mother's tired face flashed in my mind like lightning for a moment and then went off. I knew she was worried about me, but honestly, I didn't saw any reason for her to worry. As far as I know, we should worry about those who are moving away from God and love, not those who are always moving quickly towards love and destiny.

I didn't know what was waiting for me in Jerusalem. But I was ready to embrace any destiny the holy land had for me. Even with all the difficulties and sorrows.

...the night before leaving home, I opened the windows of my room all the way. The smell of darkness filled the room. I sat under the flickering light of the candles while looking at a large mirror. I braided my hair, cleaning my skin and put the red robe and turban by my bed.

When I was done, I checked my face. It had become more tender and beautiful. I had nothing left from the past. Just for now, I was ready forever.

I went to my mother's room and asked her to pray for me. When she saw my new face, she said: "I see that your journey has changed you, even though it hasn't started yet.

I said: "Love is a journey. The traveler of this journey, whether she wants it or not, will change from head to toe. There is no one who goes this way and doesn't change."

My mother smiled faintly and called me. Then she gave me a wooden box. Inside the box were three things: a mirror with a silver frame, an embroidered silk handkerchief, and a crystal little glass.

:"These will help you on your journey. Whenever you need, use these. If you ever feel ugly and lose your self-confidence, this mirror will show you the beauty inside you. whenever You feel that have no credibility and you are alone, this silk handkerchief reminds you that the most important thing is the purity of heart and soul and that medicine inside the glass, which is very rare, can heal any wounds."

After I caressed these three things. I thanked my mother, kissed her hand and walked towards destiny...

[Jerusalem- 1183]

About two years have passed since I arrived in the Holy Land. I didn't even imagine that I would be able to stay here for so long, and that was thanks to the royal court, who let me in as an advisor and mentor. I would be lying if I said that all of them liked me. Lord Lusignan and his followers looked at me as a witch who has bewitched and trapped the king.

I talked day and night with the leper king, that wandering ghost of the palace who has not sat at the dinner table with his knights for years. He always challenged me mentally, which of course was not easy, but his peaceful nature was always behind his beautiful calming voice, which made me more fascinated by him day by day.

But I only came here to seek forgiveness from God, not anything else...

Fate took me to another place that I did not even imagine. I gave him all the contents of the box. Those three valuable things. I used that ointment in the glass for his wounds. That box was destined to have another owner.

it worked...

After weeks, the purulent wounds and infections dried up. i think he was feeling better

:"Gather all your strength. God will make better things for you," I said as I bandaged his arms.

:"God, doesn't know me." His eyes never stopped staring at me and even penetrated to my bones.

- : "Yes, but I do."...

The news of the King's recovery spread across borders and seas and reached Damascus, Syria, France and England. Almost every day, the nobles and their daughters came from far away to congratulate the king and presented him with all kinds of gifts. But they were surprisingly rejected by Baldwin iv.

:"... Right now, all these gifts should be sold to the merchants, only that small fund will remain. From the cost of selling these, grains should be prepared for the people."

Tiberias asked with a surprised expression: "Is there any problem, my lord?"

:"No...by the way, where is lady y/n?"

....

Tiberias's face closed like an iron door. The question that he was afraid of was finally asked...

:"Tiberias?!

- :"Lady y/n ...honestly.. she's not here anymore. She's gone." Words tumbled out of his mouth like incoherent puzzles.

:"What do you mean she's gone?"

Baldwin's breathing became heavier and his voice more frightening. After staring at the box for a few moments, he broke the silence again.

:"Take the letter that I'm writing to her and bring y/n back to me anyway. If necessary, search this land from stone to stone. Bring her to me. I'm begging you..."

...I had reached Damascus and decided to stay in the caravanserai temporarily tonight. I shouldn't have forgotten my goal and stayed in a place where I don't belong. But I am nervous at the thought of Baldwin's concern, but I don't think that there is any need for my presence, while those beautiful and noble girls are hanging around him.

:" Please don't forget your turn y/n!"

- :" Oh, I'm sorry. Yes..." I looked at the chess board. I used to play chess there with one of my old friends. The more I looked, the more I saw that I had no choice but to get closer to Checkmate. With a bold move, I moved my queen forward.

It was at that moment that I felt a shadow above me. I recognized him.

:"it's Nice to see you again, Tiberias.

I said without looking up from the chess board. He wasn't a man who wanted to talk indirectly or make excuses, but I honestly didn't expect him to find me so soon.

:"Please come back. He makes so many excuses. He asked me to look for you everywhere. I couldn't lie to him that you were gone forever and I couldn't find you. But anyway...

He asked me to give you this letter."

I glanced at the scroll that Tiberias had pulled out from under his black cloak and handed to me. I accepted it and started reading:

"...the beauty of Jerusalem, my ruler, my padishah, my sultana, my y/n.

I wish now that instead of the smell of blood and dirt, I could smell your beautiful hair to revive this half-dead body. You are the light of my dark nights. I desperately ask you to come back to me for the last time.

I inevitably marched to the border of Kerak to prevent a w*ar. I am alone and the fear of losing Jerusalem does not leave me, but the fear of losing you is much worse than that. I still hope that you will come back and heal the wounds of my heart and soul like before."

("Baldwin iv of Jerusalem")

#king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven #fandom #the leper king #art #artists on tumblr #movies #fanfic #fan fiction #imagine #pov #warm #x reader #fantasy #female reader

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uzumaki-rebellion · 16 days ago

Text

youtube

"Paranoid, paranoid, paranoid

Things feel out of order

Look and look around, I'm not sure of

Pair of paranoia, no

I can feel it in my aura…"

Tyler the Creator—"Noid"

Life in New Orleans dragged to a crawl for Celeste. Pure drudgery.

With Terry gone, colors didn't look as bright in the world. Food lacked taste and texture. Getting out of bed in the morning took prayers and innate willpower. Her mother sent over aromatic herbal bath salts to soak her body in. Grand-mère left Tupperware sealed containers of sausage gumbo, or fried chicken wings on her stoop that Celeste found after work at night. She acted like an addict suffering from withdrawals. Micah said she might be anemic. She thought about making a doctor's appointment.

Lighting candles and praying didn't make her feel better. Bargaining with lower-tiered saints didn't either. She spent her lonely nights sitting on her stoop chain smoking and drinking more rum punches than usual. The trilling of insects and the calls of nightbirds kept her company until she became numb and crawled into a cold bed.

Dark dreams rattled the peace of her sleep and Celeste often woke up in a sweat, paranoid that she was being watched by some unknown entity in her bedroom or outside her French doors. Her dreams were of a macabre nature with visions of walking in the French Quarter at night, or traipsing along the riverfront at sunset hearing the flapping of large wings behind her back. Terry never appeared in those nightscapes, although she caught glimpses of a shadow slithering across the ground, trying to catch up with her running footsteps. His voice called out to her, and she'd wake up hoping for daylight so she wouldn't have to lie awake for hours waiting for the sun to burn away the eerie webbing of terror that entrapped her every evening.

The worst night happened when sleep paralysis took over her body, and she swore evil shape-shifting shadows crept along the ceiling trying to steal her breath. Eventually, she could wiggle her toes and fingers and slowly regain control of her limbs. On those nights, she missed Terry's enormous body spooned around her, protecting her from the bogeyman.

To his credit, Terry called and left her messages, not completely dumping their connection cold turkey. However, he always chose times when he knew she'd be at work and unable to speak. He still professed his love for her, but he wasn't coming back soon. She left him a voicemail asking for his address, willing to make the drive up to see him, even if it had to be a quick turnaround trip. He never gave it to her.

Long summer days took over. The southern heat rolled in, and so did the start of hurricane season.

An oppressive heatwave layered itself all over Louisiana, and no matter how many cool showers she took, her body sweated buckets in the sauna-like atmosphere. The weather didn't stop her from walking or riding her bike around her neighborhood. She forced herself to stay active, visiting her grandparents more often, and attending random brunches Joyce pulled together.

Nothing filled the void of Terry, though. Eventually, his calls and text messages thinned down to an occasional heart emoji.

On a rare two days off, back-to-back, Celeste slept in and ate leftover pizza. She pulled her locs back into a high pigtail and prepared for a long meditative walk to the French Market to meet up with Joyce and some new people she didn't know. No more moping about Terry. Life had to go on and there were other fish in the Mississippi River. Blah, blah, blah.

Wiping her face with a cool washcloth, she painted on shimmery orange lipstick and added a few gold hair decorations to her locs. She broke out the lime-green summer dress and clear jelly sandals that always made her feel pretty and summery.

Locking her cottage door and the iron security door, she waved to a neighbor across the street and headed north, her feet automatically walking her toward the B&B Terry stayed at. Walking past the property, she looked at the playful statues on the roofs and stopped.

The gargoyle statue was no longer curled behind the big dragon figure. Celeste paced back and forth, craning her neck to see if the glare of sunlight prevented her from seeing it. No, it was definitely gone. She pulled out her smartphone and swiped the screen until she came to her photo gallery. When she looked at the image on her phone, it reminded her of how unsightly the statue had been compared to all the other goofy figures displayed on the roof. Maybe the owners came to their senses and realized the thing didn't match the whimsical vibe they tried to cultivate.

She carried on her merry little way and entered the Quarter, wishing she'd thought to bring an umbrella for the direct sunlight burning her skin. Passing by one of the many historic hotels, she glanced up to see a sight on a wall that knocked her breath short.

A stone-gray gargoyle fixture clung to the side of a sweltering red brick wall holding out the head of a gorgon…Medusa. The face of the creature looked exactly like the one on the B&B . Celeste walked past that part of the Quarter too many times and knew for a fact no gargoyle statue had ever been there before. She snapped a picture of it and hurried along to her brunch meet up.

She forgot about the gargoyle until two hours later when her entourage of seven window-shopped, and she glimpsed a different, more ferocious-looking gargoyle statue peering down from the roof of a boutique shoe store. Its six-foot wide flint-gray wings cast a shadow across the sidewalk. The outstretched clawed hand looked ready to snatch pedestrians off the street. Celeste shivered and nausea overtook her stomach. Acid churned in the back of her throat and she almost vomited her lunch special onto her sandals.

"Duchess, what's wrong?" Joyce asked.

She pointed at the statue.

"That was never there before."

Joyce stared at it. Celeste pulled out her phone and showed her the other gargoyle.

"This one I found on the side of a hotel. Another just like it was a few blocks from my house. It seems weird to me. I feel like I've been seeing a lot of weird shit lately."

Celeste rubbed her stomach and burped. A sour taste coated her tongue.

"I don't feel so good."

"Do you need to sit down?"

"Yeah."

The group pitched themselves up at a dueling pianos bar to get Celeste off her feet. Everyone ordered frozen mango margarita drinks except for her. She went to the public restroom and hung her head over the toilet. The sickness passed, and she used the sink to rinse away the sweat on her face.

Feeling better, she returned to her group and settled in for chit-chat and getting to know a man that Joyce brought for her to meet. The sun went down and the heat dropped by two measly degrees. She snacked on creamy artichoke dip and pita chips, listening to all the lively conversations around her until she noticed a man staring at her from the main bar. His dark skin gleamed with good genetics, and his dashing eyes zoned in on her quickly. She thought he was flirting, but his direct gaze came off predatory.

Glancing around, she pretended to take an interest in the active street life as the Quarter came alive for another night of debauchery. On the corner, a striking Black woman with a bald head and gothic make-up watched her. Her black painted lips peeled back into a slick smile and Celeste's intuition kicked in, warning her that something wasn't right about the woman. Her entire focus was on Celeste, just like the man at the…

Shit!

Celeste blinked, and the man at the bar moved toward her with a disjointed stroll. His movement reminded her of glitches in video games she played as a teen, when the operating system hadn't quite worked out the kinks. Unnatural. From the corner of her eye, she caught the slow track of a dark-brown beauty who smiled in a way that chilled Celeste in her gut. It was the smile of something trying its best to look…human. The parts of Celeste's skin that Terry once bit flared with a sharp stabbing of pain, the bruised nerve-endings waking up all the way. Her body wasn't right all over.

"I have to go, it's late," Celeste yelped.

She leapt to her feet and hugged Joyce.

"Wait, we can give you a ride to your place after we finish the rest of these appetizers," Joyce said.

"No…it's okay. I have to go to work in the morning."

"I thought you had the day off from both jobs."

Celeste shook her head and threw a ten-dollar bill on the table to help with tips. She brushed past the disappointed blind date and tried to hide herself within the crush of bodies milling around the party atmosphere. Her heart almost stopped when the strange man and woman from the bar followed her.

She ran like she was doing the fifty-yard dash in tenth grade, her legs stretching out to move her ass far.

Home.

She needed to get home, lock her doors, and hide.

Her emotions caught in her throat. Something was wrong with the world she lived in. Ever since Terry came into her life, she'd overlooked strange occurrences because she was caught up in the exhilaration of new romance and new dick. She'd ignored all the weirdness, because she didn't want to connect it to Terry. Now she even wondered about the missing white guys, Carl and Jacob. Terry did physically assault them and afterward, they went missing. The coincidence of them all interacting together nagged at her subconscious.

"What the fuck is going on?" she screeched when two twin gargoyle statues overlooked the roof of a picturesque townhouse filled with three-stories of revelers drinking and shouting down at passersby. Gargoyles were not a thing in New Orleans. It wasn't even Halloween season yet.

Celeste glanced over her shoulder to track any other weirdos following her. It looked like she lost them in the packed narrow streets. She double-backed and headed up to Rampart to bypass the Quarter completely. Flagging a taxi, she jumped in and gave directions to her house. She ducked down in the backseat and pretended to check her phone.

"Night, Miss," the older Haitian driver said.

"Mèsi," she said.

"Ou ayisyen?"

"Non, Black Creole from here," she said.

"Mwen wè…but we are kouzen, oui?"

"Oui," Celeste said.

"Are you okay?"

He looked at her closely from the rearview mirror.

"Um…I'm fine. Goodnight."

She paid in cash from some money Terry left behind and darted to her front door. Jamming the key in both door locks, she twisted them open and ran inside. She turned off the living room track lights that were on a timer and fled to her bedroom.

Sweating and panting from the exertion, Celeste sat on her bed in the dark and waited for her heart to stop pounding. After an hour of sitting, she went to the restroom, and showered for bed. Her smartphone lit up with a text from Allen, the guy Joyce fixed her up with. He left his number and told her to call him whenever she wanted to hang out.

She checked the inside lock and security bolt on her front door and back. The sour taste of liquid rose in her throat and she rushed to the sink in the kitchen and vomited up pita chips and the artichoke dip that looked like beige slurry. She rinsed her mouth and wiped her lips just as a loud pounding on the front door started.

The hell?

She peeked around the corner of her kitchen. Dark figures moved outside the colored, frosted glass panels of the top half of the front door, even though her porch light was off. The corner streetlight flickered on.

Her stomach tightened, and she held her breath, afraid that whoever was outside could hear her breathing. She stood completely still and waited. The pounding started again.

"Hello?" a female voice said. "I'm a cousin of Terry's. He wanted me to bring you something."

The lie rang hollow, but Celeste's heart softened at the sound of her lover's name. She pushed her back against a living room wall hidden by a bookcase, determined to ignore the person until they went away.

"Celeste? My name is Dominique. I'm here on vacation and Terry asked me to drop off a gift. I'm saving him thirty dollars by bringing it myself instead of him mailing it."

Dominique's voice sounded sweet and very country.

"He's coming down to see you in a few days and he wanted to give you this. I think it's a fancy dress. He said you looked real pretty at Durand's the last time you were in a dress."

Celeste lingered near the bookcase, but she stepped further into the living room. Only Terry and her friends knew about Durand's.

"You know what? I'll just leave it on the porch. Sorry I came here so late. I dropped by earlier, but you weren't home, and I didn't want anyone to steal it if I left it behind."

Celeste crept another few inches toward the front door. She lifted her cell phone out of her purse and kept the police number on her screen. The cell phone still listed it under Freddie's name as "Freddie/Work". Dominique banged on the security door again.

"Just leave it on the porch, please," Celeste called out, annoyed by the intrusion, her finger hovering above the police contact.

"No problem," Dominique said.

She heard movement and footsteps walking away. Waiting for an hour quietly, she finally cracked open the front door and kept the security door locked.

No package.

She looked down at the bottom step and still didn't see any box or bundle. Glancing at Freddie's police number, she debated about calling him.

"Hello, Celeste."

She dropped her phone on the floor, cracking the screen. The strange man from the piano bar stood at the top of her stoop, his dark, foreboding eyes mesmerizing her to the point of her falling into a dazed stupor. Behind him, one step down, was the Black goth and the dark brown beauty with the uncanny valley smile. Two other Black women in dark clothing waited on the sidewalk, watching her with sinister eyes.

The man smiled, revealing platinum grills. The dark brown of his eyes faded into silver orbs that enchanted her with their strange ethereal glow.

"We don't mean to frighten you," he hissed, his nostrils flaring and sniffing at her from behind the iron security door.

The women also inhaled deeply and licked their lips, staring at her throat.

"What the fuck do you want?" she said.

"This bitch talkin' spicy, Deacon," the Goth said.

The man tutted at Celeste, shaking his head.

"No, no, no…that's not how you speak to The Deacon, my sweet sustenance. We're here to ask you about Terry."

"What about him?"

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

The man pounded the frame of the iron door. Celeste jumped and stepped back.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Duchess!" he shouted.

He turned his head away as if to gain control of his emotions. His lips curled into a deceptive smile.

"How do you know me? Who sent you here?" she asked.

"Let us in, Celeste," the Goth said.

"Yesss…invite us inside and we can…talk. Open the door," The Deacon said.

His silver, unblinking eyes held her in place, and the colors around his towering frame drained away. When he spoke again, his voice echoed inside her head, reminding her of the way Terry invaded her thoughts…read her mind. The canine teeth of the platinum grills elongated, becoming wolfish and frightening. Fangs.

"Let us come inside…"

The four menacing women dropped the façade of humanness, their fangs exposed and dripping with saliva. Celeste's security door had wide enough gaps to reach an arm inside, but The Deacon didn't grab her through the openings.

It occurred to her that the door was a barrier they couldn't cross without her permission. As long as she didn't verbally consent to letting them in, she was safe on the inside. But if she stepped out...they would feast.

"I smell him all over you…inside of you…open this door so we can speak of my brother without eyes upon us."

Celeste raised her left hand and flicked on her porch light. The bulb didn't emit UV rays, but it improved her visibility and momentarily distracted them... long enough for a shadow to stretch across her doorway.

Celeste gasped and touched her cheek. It felt like Terry's hand had stroked her skin with the warmth from his palm.

"Fucking bastard!" The Deacon shrieked.

He glanced back at the others.

"His sentinel is here...watching over her," The Deacon said.

He slammed both of his palms on the two middle bars of the security door.

"He will come back here for you, and when he does, we'll be waiting. Tell him he can't hide from us forever."

The Goth woman sniffed the air and bared her fangs at The Deacon.

"The Old Ones are near. We have to go!" the Goth yelled.

The Deacon glared at Celeste and her eyes watered. She blinked once and the strangers at her door vanished like they were never there. Her body swayed and the sound of loud flapping wings above her cottage rang in her ears. Something landed with a thud on top of her roof and walked across it with heavy footsteps. She slammed the front door shut and locked it again, cocking her ear toward the ceiling, listening for whatever new monstrosity awaited her.

Luckily, it didn't stay long. She stood staring at her ceiling with bated breath and a thundering heart rate. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled with familiar urgency. She turned around and looked at her French doors.

Terry's shadow darkened the curtains.

She walked with slow, trance-like steps toward the French doors and stared at the outline of his body behind the thin drapes.

"Are you there?" she asked.

Her voice sounded so weak and helpless.

The shadow didn't answer, and Terry's voice didn't go into her mind. That shit had been real. The first time it happened at the dive bar, she thought she had been drunk, horny, and imagining him talking inside her head. The dawning realization of what he truly was terrified her. Behind those drapes was proof of an abomination to humankind.

And she let it into her home.

Slept with it.

Let it feed from her, thinking it was some fetish kink. Just some deep hickeys and love bites that got his rocks off.

Fucking hell.

She whimpered and held her hands in a prayer position against her lips.

"Are you here with me… Terry?"

She reached for the doorknobs and unlocked them, flinging both doors wide open.

A sleek black cat sprinted across her small courtyard and leapt onto the neighbor's fence, blending into the darkness and out of sight.

Chapter 10 HERE.

Masterlist

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#terry richmond #rebel ridge #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction #Vampire!Terry Richmond #Terry Richmond AU fanfiction #Halloween 2024 #Black Vampires #Black Supernatural #Uzumaki Rebellion #aaron pierre

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inactivewattpadauthor · 2 months ago

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Raiden x Reader: Grieve Together

(Fun fact: mk vs dc was my first mk game. Guess I am a lil young)

Context: After not preventing Kung Lao's death/accidentally killing Liu Kang, Reader has been avoiding Raiden. He teleports to their memorial wall at a convenient time.

Warning: plain angst... still running out of shit to write🤧 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ The candles crackled as they functioned as the only light in the room beneath the portraits they're lit for. Two giant frames mounted on the wall to honor the ones who fought for this realm.

Also known as the two close friends you had and loved to the very end. Kung Lao and Liu Kang.

How unfortunate you are to lose both of them in such little time. And unexpected. While some call it coping, you knew who to blame all along. That fucking Thunder god.

The very first time you were in his presence, you felt so little and anxious. Always scared to mess up even on something little. No matter how times Liu and Lao, and Raiden himself reassured you. All that aura from a god is scary.

And now, you think you hate him. You think so little of him. And no one can ever say you didn't try to give him the benefit of the doubt.

When Kung Lao got his neck snapped, it didn't first occur in your mind to blame Raiden. With you and Liu Kang, he was ready to put down Shao Kahn for that.

And then soon, when you didn't go with them the same time Shao Kahn attempted to conquer Earthrealm, you find out by the developing actor, Cage, that they got into a fight... Raiden killed Liu Kang.

Seeing his body absolutely tore you just like when the shock settled after Kung Lao. Covered in all those third degree burns that not even Raiden could've healed up... That's when it all started.

Raiden tried to speak with you. You were forced to hear him out. It was an accident. He was only defending himself. You believed him. Yet, you were unbelievably angry.

There could've had to been another way to stop Liu. And with all the "future sights" Raiden gets, how does he not see when Shao Kahn kills Lao like that? Everything was off with Raiden. And at that, you told him you didn't want him near you ever again. Later, you left a notice at the academy that you were dropping out.

Now, you were back here again. Only to visit your friends. "I'm sorry I don't ever visit you guys. Know I still love and miss you so much." You dip your head before the two beloved portraits.

A flash inside the room startles you and you flinched slightly before peeking over your shoulder.

Raiden.

When you see him lift his head up and those glowing eyes spot you from beneath his hat, you instantly decide it's time to leave. Respect has been paid already.

Sighing in vexation, you got up, ready to make your exit, until-

"Hello, Y/n. I hope you find yourself well."

Eye twitching, you give him a sharp look. He still looks as guilty as a kitten that torn up curtains.

The man gestures a hand back to the floor where you were kneeling and praying at. "May I join you in tributing?"

You shook your head and pushed past the tall being. "Thought I told you to stay the hell away from me.

Raiden doesn't say anything right away but watches you go to the door before commenting. "You're not alone, Y/n."

Your hand rested on the knob. You had to think. "Yes, I am. Those two were the only ones I had." You looked at him with pained eyes. You would not elaborate with him any further on that. He wouldn't understand.

Turning from you, the god kneels on the ground before the tribute. "I suffer every second of how their fates came, if that makes you feel better. I wish you were around more. That way, we could suffer together and not alone."

He pauses and looks at the beloveds on the wall.

"You have every right to be disgusted with me. Angry with me. Or hate me, even. I understand. Because sometimes, I conflict with myself that way."

"I don't want to hate you." You admit. "But... You couldn't have done more? Are you sure you didn't see anything that could've prevented Kung Lao's death? Or restrain Liu?"

The lord looks at you quietly and shakes his head. "I promise, I had no visions that foretold Kung Lao's death. I would've stopped it without doubt. And for Liu Kang..."

You could've sworn you saw shame in his face as he turned back forward.

"I was scared."

That's something you don't think Raiden would ever say. But he's being truthful with you.

"I'm only a demigod. Part of me is still a man. And men can feel fear. I shouldn't have used my powers to stop him. I'm not asking for forgiveness, but please trust me when I say I did not mean to hurt him."

The doorknob turns back into its regular position as you let go of it. Inhaling and exhaling, you walk back to the tributes and sit next to Raiden.

"I believe you." You tell him. "I just... I'm just so angry. I was a sad person before they came in my life. I thought I won. Now, just like that, they're gone. I don't want to be alone again. Especially now that I'm grieving." You frowned and looked at the two.

"I don't hate you. I'm just extremely upset and ended up putting it all up on you. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry." Raiden tells you. "And you don't need to be alone."

"I don't have anyone else."

"You have me."

You laughed ever so softly. "Right. You have priorities."

"I do." Raiden does not sugarcoat. "Earthrealm will always be my priority. But I won't leave you alone if thats what you need."

He rests a hand on your shoulder for reassurance. "Only if you're agreeable with it."

You knew you needed any supporting company. "Okay."

You didn't think too much on it but you were against his side as a strong, caring arm was wrapped around you as you both looked upon the deceased pair.

"We will grieve together for them." Raiden calmly mutters. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rushed ending, sorry🤷🏿‍♀️

#mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagines #mk imagine #mk headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #raiden #lord raiden #raiden x reader #goddesswritings

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rustingcat · 1 year ago

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"Mmm," Lena moaned, closing her eyes to enjoy the buttery creamy taste filling her taste buds with joy and delight. "This is amazing, Kara!"

"Thank you." Kara smiled proudly. She insisted on making Lena a special home cooked meal after Lena mentioned not eating one in ages. Saying that she deserves to be taken care of for once, and receive a meal specially made for her.

So after a long day at work, Kara surprised her with an invitation to her house and a special pasta dinner. She arrived to see the apartment lights dimmed and the well prepared table with two lit candles that made her heart hammer in her chest.

"You deserve it Lena." She added. "You've been working so hard lately, so really, anytime you want to be spoiled a bit just let me know, and I'll be more than happy to provide." Kara finished with a genuine smile. Lena really couldn't help but melt a little looking at that smile.

"You can't just say stuff like that, Kara. A girl might get used to it." She said with a sly smile. She kept her teasing light and casual, but felt a light blush creeping up her neck.

"Good, then do. You deserve to be happy Lena."

Lena tried to suppress the overflowing warm feeling in her chest. A task that had become a hundred times harder with Kara's choice of words and beautiful smile. She decided to just take another bite.

"Mmm." God it was so good. "Seriously Kara this is probably the best pasta I ever ate in my life. Will you marry me?" She joked as she took another bite full of Kara’s fantastic creamy shrimp pasta. She really couldn't remember the last time she enjoyed pasta this much, any dish really. Kara somehow made exactly what she needed.

Lena opened her eyes to find Kara staring at her with pure shock and a light blush. She wasn't sure how long Kara was staring. Lena was about to note it was a joke when–

"Yes." Kara breathed out. She heard no trace of cynicism in her voice.

Lena swallowed hard. Afraid she might reveal her hand if she said anything. It was her fault really, her and her stupid uncontrollable feelings.

"It was–" she started, standing up in the hopes to shake away the sudden anxiety that settled within her. Her half smile she forced faltered the moment she met Kara's gaze, losing any ability to deny her meaning. "Do you–" she stopped, leaning back on the kitchen island to ground herself. "Do you want to…?" She couldn't finish that sentence.

Kara nodded a few times as she slowly rose up from her chair, stepping closer to Lena. "Yes." She finally said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Lena's heart skyrocketed, hammering so fast in her chest she feared she might explode.

"Do you want to marry me?" Kara asked carefully, moving just outside of Lena's space.

Lena nodded, incapable of speech. Absolutely mesmerised by the sheer sincerity in Kara’s eyes.

Kara stepped forward, placing a hand on Lena's hips, her eyes asking for permission. Lena prayed to every god in existence that it was real, that despite everything that had happened in her life, Kara Danvers really just agreed to marry her. To actually marry her.

With a spark of bravery, or perhaps the fear that it was her only chance before the moment disappeared forever, Lena cupped Kara's face as she drew their lips together. She felt the burning rock of anxiety and fear within her slowly dwindle the more Kara kissed her back. Waves of cool relief washed away any last remaining of it in her mind, leaving her with only Kara and her gentle kisses.

They pulled away to finally breathe, staring deeply into each other's eyes. Their new fiancee's eyes?

"Is this real? Are we really doing this?" Lena asked in disbelief. She really hoped with all her heart it wasn't a dream or some kind of hyper realistic day dream she conjured in her mind. Even though it was the more plausible explanation at this point.

"If you want to?" Kara bit her lips, a hopeful smile playing on her lips.

"Yes." Lena finally felt brave enough to say.

Kara's smile grew wider than she thought was possible, before she dived in to steal another kiss.

"I can't believe it actually worked." Kara giggled with relief.

"I know, it– Wait what do you mean worked? What worked?" Lena studied her with suspicion. Where they not…?

"The pasta!" Kara said as if it was sufficient explanation.

"What?" If she was talking about the dish's quality, it was fairly well established by that point.

"I…" she averted her gaze to the floor as her cheeks flushed pink. "I saw this video on Facebook about – umm, about Propose To Me Pasta."

"Propose to me pasta? As in–?"

"Pasta that is so good that the person you're making it to would propose to you." Kara explained quickly. Averting her gaze as if she was a student caught cheating on a test. "Not that I thought it would work, or like, tried to manipulate you or anything. I just kind of… hoped? Or I don't know... " She trailed off.

Lena stared at her for a moment. Despite the ridiculousness of it all, she believed her. She believed Kara found this ridiculous video and had this ridiculous idea set in her mind that led to this not less ridiculous conclusion. An utterly ridiculous ludicrous plan that somehow worked.

"Oh my god, I'm marrying an idiot." Lena looked at her with disbelief.

"No take backs." Kara finally met her gaze. Her lips quivering in an attempt to hold back her giant grin.

And Lena couldn't help it anymore, she laughed. She laughed with shock, she laughed with relief, she laughed with joy, she laughed with love and she just laughed. She couldn't stop, and having Kara join her only made her laugh harder.

Holding her side, Lena finally managed to catch her breath. Although it took her a few more minutes to stop giggling every time she met Kara's eyes.

Lena kissed Kara again. Because she wanted to, because she wanted to let her know she still wanted to marry her, and because she simply could.

"I love you." Lena said as they parted, their foreheads touching. Both content and secured in each other’s space.

"I love you too." Kara smiled back.

"Will you marry me?" Lena asked, biting her bottom lip.

"You already asked." Kara said with a teasing grin.

"It was a shitty proposal." Lena rolled her eyes.

"Well, that's the one you got. I already accepted, so no redos." Kara shrugged.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"No I don't."

Lena felt her whole body tingled in warmth and excitement. Her body went through so many intense emotions in a very quick succession, that it was no surprise she was exhausted. Yet, simply existing in Kara’s orbit filled her with so much love, she felt her body re-energised with purified life force.

"What now?" Kara asked.

"Now," Lena smiled before pulling back from their little bubble, grasping Kara's hand as she led her back to the table. "We finish eating this amazing Propose To Me Pasta, then we're gonna wash the plates, then we're gonna prepare for bed and then – if you'd like – I can show you just how much I love you." Lena finished with a sly grin.

Kara swallowed hard before she spoke. "You better finish your pasta quickly before it gets too cold." She said plainly, although Lena could hear the anticipation in her voice.

"Don't rush a girl while she's eating her proposal pasta." Lena was delighted to find the pasta just as delicious as before. She might have to ask Kara to marry her a third time tonight. Who knows? The night was still young.

To send Kudos and get the pasta recipe, visit me on AO3 ;)

#magic pasta ficlet #this idea just ate my brain #supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fic #my art #my fic

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manifesting-minerva · 3 months ago

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Ghosts and Banshees (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader) - Part 2

Author's Note: Thank you for the love shown on the first imagine I posted. I appreciate the support therefore I decided to write a Part 2. Let me know what you think. Minerva 🐦‍⬛

Summary: The new recruits get to have a taste of Y/N and Ghost does as well. She might've left a bit of a bitter taste on one specific recruit but not on Simon's tongue.

Warnings: Language, slight degrading, threatening

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Y/N set down the boxes she brought with her from home filled with decorations. "This apartment needs a makeover." She talked to herself. With her music on, she started dusting and washing the place, occasionally flexing a move to the beat and singing along. Until she settled in, Price was generous to offer her a couple of days off to get to know their routine and to settle in her apartment comfortably. The living room was the first room that introduced the apartment, a couch and two armchairs adorned the area with a balcony to her left.

Walking right was a small kitchen with a dinner table and some chairs. The bedroom and bathroom were situated on either side of the corridor and a small office area where she could work on mission files. She couldn't complain as it was perfect for at least 2 people to live in.

Price was also generous to offer her her own office as a medic since she had the qualifications and nonetheless experience. Gaz, Soap and Ghost were decided to help her out with her luggage and boxes up to her apartment.

"Are ye plannin' on staying a decade?" Soap teased when he saw her unpack her clothes from the luggage and hang them into her wardrobe.

"With this occupation I don't think I'll make it that far." She giggled looking over to the boxes with labels on them. "Gaz, would you be so kind to take that box to the living room please? I don't know why I brought it in the bedroom to be honest." Gaz obliged and exited the room.

In the hassle of unpacking and cracking jokes, Ghost stayed silent until something caught his eye. From the corner of his eye, in the open luggage, he spotted something or more like some things that made his cock twitch. Underwear. Not just anyone's underwear. Lacey black and red underwater, thin strings (poor excuse for an underwear) that to his imagination could barely cover his palm. He swallowed hard as his eyes were glued to her lingerie. From thongs to g strings to lace underwear, Ghost felt his pants tighten and his face flush. Thank God for his balaclava.

"Ye alright Simon? Ye haven't said a word." Soap snapped him from his thoughts.

"Yeah I'm 'right." He said curtly.

"Ah, I didn't know your name was Simon!" Y/N exclaimed. Unbeknownst to her she took the exposed luggage that has Simon's undivided attention and pulled it towards the chest of drawers. "Is he any different from Ghost?" She teased as she folded her clothes in.

Ghost didn't even know how to answer her. Simon was a soft and a gentle man despite his past. Naturally, due to his line of work a tough shell is required and frankly he never sought to be in any relationships due to time (or the lack of it) and the dangers the job carries. He wouldn't fathom to put someone in danger or put them in a mentally challenging state especially if a mission goes south and he ends up on the other end of the gun. He wasn't selfish in that matter.

"Depends." He shrugged, praying she switches the topic. He never liked being the centre of attention although the mask he wore said otherwise. He looked over the apartment in general and took in the smell of fresh linen candles and talc, the blankets laid neatly on the couch and armchairs, the trolley full of books situated near one of the armchairs with fairy lights hanging around the living room.

It looked magical.

It looked like Y/N.

***

On Wednesday morning, Y/N woke bright and early for the new day. It was her first day training recruits. As soon as she opened the food she found Ghost in front of her closing his door as well.

"Ah, so we're neighbors as well." Y/N exclaimed, earning a scoff from Simon.

He hates me. She thought.

Why the fuck did I scoff? It was supposed to be a chuckle. He thought.

"I assume you're heading to the mess hall." Y/N said trying hey best to ignore the awkward moment.

"Yes we are." Gaz came up from behind them, putting his arms out until they tested on each of their shoulders. Together they walked together to the mess hall where they found Price and Soap already stuffing their faces in their breakfast.

"Good morning bonnie!" Soap smiled.

"Good morning lass." Price greeted her as she took a seat next to him, earning her a pat on her back. "Ready for the day? You've got your first class starting at 8am. You'll have Ghost with you just in case they cause you trouble." Ghost who was sitting opposite Y/N watching as she stuffed her face with food, nodding at Price.

She looks cute with her mouth stuffed. What the fuck Simon! Get it together! Simon mentally slapped himself. Lifting his mask above his lips, Y/N watched him sip his tea. His eyes never left her face as he swallowed.

***

While Ghost showed Y/N around, the recruits slowly filed in the training room, eyeing the sole woman amongst them. Some guffawed and some could barely walk from sleep.

"Good morning, I am Sergeant Y/N and I will be your instructor for the next couple of weeks. Lieutenant Ghost will be present today and will naturally be grading you according to your progress. Any questions?" Y/N scanned the boys in front of her.

"Actually I have one." A tall, lean boy walked towards her. "It's actually more of a concern really. How long do you intend on teaching us? Because frankly I don't want to fall back on our training due to...feminine distractions." His friends behind him chuckled and guffawed at his comment. Y/N looked behind her to find Ghost sitting on the box still, staring at Y/N waiting for her reply to the recruit. One could say that although Ghost had his poker face on, he wanted to punch the recruit in the throat for disrespecting her but he let her take the reins on this one.

Sucking her teeth and a breath in she stalked towards the boy, smirking. "What's your name recruit?"

"Thomas Boyd." He replied with a cocky grin on his face.

"Well, Thomas. If you get distracted easily, you shouldn't really be here... especially if you get distracted by a woman because I'm going to be here for a while." You retorted. Simon smiled under his balaclava, chuckling. Thomas, on the other hand, felt his cheeks grow red. Licking his lips, he brushed off the momentary embarrassment and quickly moved close in front of Y/N, face to face, looking down at her. Ghost immediately stood on his feet and flew behind Y/N. She was basically sandwiched between Ghost and Thomas. Feeling the presence behind her, she gently put a hand on Ghost's chest to tell him that she's fine without breaking eye contact with Thomas.

"If you think that a meek little girl like you can handle a group of men like us -" Thomas didn't get the chance to finish the sentence before Y/N actually pushed Ghost back, sending him stumbling, linked her right arm around Thomas's neck in a tight grip, pulled his body weight over her hips and slammed him to the floor. Two crossed knives were resting against Thomas's neck. Out of breath from the shock he felt the cold metal gently pressing against his carotid artery.

"This meek little girl could castrate you on the spot without you even noticing. So I suggest that you shut your mouth and run 20 laps. In fact, add another 5 to that until you learn your place with me. I am not here to be your friend. I am your superior and you will obey me whether you like it or not! If you don't I can show you or even better throw you out the door and trust me you won't find your way back here. So do not underestimate me. And since I'm suddenly feeling generous everyone will do the laps with you." Y/N spat, anger seething through her veins like venom. If looks could kill, Thomas would be a dead man. Her eyes were shooting daggers like icicles at him. Thomas tried to compose himself underneath her from the whiplash. His eyes traveled over to Ghost who was standing tall a few feet away from Y/N.

Lifting herself off Thomas, she looked at the rest of the class who were dumbfounded as she put her knives away. While Thomas laid on the floor in pure silence Ghost marched over to him grabbing him by the hem of his collar and pulling him to his feet with brute force. "You have a big fucking mouth for someone with such a small dick." Ghost whispered in his ear. "If I catch you opening your mouth to her unless it's an apology coming out, I will not only let her castrate you but I will rip you a new arsehole. Understood?" His grip tightened around his shirt. Thomas nodded frantically. Throwing him back on his friends, Ghost looked at the recruits in front of him.

"You heard her! 25 laps around the block! Go!" Ghost shouted. And they all scrambled together and started running for their lives. They had a new person to be scared of. Ghost walked back to Y/N who watched the initiates run.

"Are you okay?" He asked gently, looking over at her.

"Yeah," She replied. "Do you think I went overboard?" She asked him, looking up at the behemoth next to her. He chuckled.

"I told him I'd rip him a new one. So no, you didn't go overboard." He replied making her giggle softly. "You handled it well." He looked back down at her standing tall and confident next to him. The height difference would've made any girl envious.

"Come on, let's get some training in while they do their drills." Ghost lead Y/N to the mat a few feet away from them. As he watched dher hips slightly sway all Ghost could think about was that she was a little firecracker and that he was both a bit scared and turned on by it.

Focus Simon, for fuck's sake. Focus.

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