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nouvxllev · 2 days

Note

Could you possibly do a story where Tara and Y/N get caught in the middle of fucking by Sam??

(Can be Tara x Fem!Reader, Gp!Tara x Fem!Reader, or Tara x Gp!Reader.)

my sister!?

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x GP!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 4k

Warnings/tags: immediate smut, pretend the carpenters have a house and not a shared apartment in new york, protective sam carpenter!!!!!, no ghostface au

a/n: writers block is KILLING me, feelin like i cant write shit

masterlist.

An innocent study night with Tara was impossible.

"Tara—Tara, oh f-fuck, you're taking me so well..."

The sight of Tara beneath you should be a sin of its own; tears stinging her eyes locked on yours with mascara running down her cheeks, her soft, abused lipstick-stained lips parting for pathetic notes of moans and whimpers. Strands of hair lay in a mess on her mattress you relentlessly ruined her on every night she asked of you to.

Every sound she made drove you to closer to insanity, knowing you could worship her everyday for every sin you committed since meeting her. The way her body responded to the slightest thrust was intoxicating, addicting—so fucking addicting. Her fingers clutched on her sheets as if they could help her, knuckles turning white.

Tara's eyes fluttered open after rolling back in pure ecstasy, letting out soft moans with your cock fitting so right and full inside of her. She was barely holding out on her own, you were just so fucking hot and sexy like this, who could blame her?

"More," she cried, voice trembling while she wrapped her arms around your neck to bring you closer, "Please—Fuck! Y/n, y/n, please I—"

She moaned your name as if it was a prayer, her voice alone making your knees weak. Her body arched into yours, seeking more—always for more. Even with your hands steady on her hips, she moved with a mind of her own in her cock-drunk state.

Your grip on her waist tightened, fingers almost bruising her perfect, soft skin as you buried yourself deeper inside her. Her name fell shamelessly from your lips as you felt an aching knot forming in your stomach.

"Tara—I'm so... fuck, m' so close..." you breathed, pupils blown out as you locked eyes with her. Her eyes, everything about her was desperate, fuck, you both were.

Tara—breathless and spent from being so stretched—nodded frantically, her lips pathetically opening and closing almost immediately as if she could say anything other than your name and soft moans.

"Close.. close, too." She gulped, breath hitching, eyes rolling to the back of her head, feeling every inch of you so deliciously deep inside of her. "Fuck, don't stop!"

You were so close, so close to feeling Tara's walls clenching against you that could make every sense in your body go dumb fucking weak and numb, your name dangerously on the tip of her tongue while she goes onto levels higher than cloud 9 as you help her ride out her orgasm.

Close, Tara's so close, so close, fuck, fuck fuck—

When you came, Tara came down hard. Her figure perfectly arched as you rocked your hips back and forth inside of her, the both of you falling into silent moans and hot breaths.

"Tara... are you alright? Shit, Tara, you feel so goo..."

A door opened.

"What the fuck."

Sam. Carpenter. Standing.

You. Tara. On. Bed.

Sam Carpenter, Tara Carpenter. Carpenters.

You. Not Carpenter. Definitely not after today.

Sisters. Right-

FUCK.

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How batshit, totally and flat out embarrassing it would be to be caught having rough sex with your girlfriend in the middle of the night at her house when you're supposed to be studying?

No, it would be fine, very fine actually if it was one of the gang. Hell, you'd take Mindy or Chad any day opening the door to see you and Tara fucking around. You'd live with it and wear it like a fucking badge of honor.

If it wasn't her damn sister.

Sam already despised you for being Tara's girlfriend! You couldn't even hold her close for more than thirty seconds without Sam threatening to grab a hammer and bash your skull in.

What's even worse than that is how she led you both down stairs after awkwardly cleaning up and she's now pacing back and forth in front of the couch Sam pushed you on.

"Sam, you're being overdramatic, we're not those sex-obsessed teens that need counseling." Tara, arms crossed with an adorable pout (you'd defend that pout to your last breath), tackled before her sister could even say anything. "I'm 21 for fucks sake!"

"Oh, Tara, don't even get me started—You literally just turned into the legal drinking age two fucking weeks ago!" Sam stopped in her tracks, pointing at Tara with probably the most killer eyes a killer would kill.

"So—!?"

Sam cut her off before Tara could even say anything, her gaze now directed towards you. "And you," oh shit, you were in for it, "My sister!? That's very low of you, Y/n—"

"Oh, y/n was definitely going low on—"

"Yup, okay, no, stop—Tara." You quickly covered Tara's mouth with your hand before she could further damage your already very rocky relationship with Sam. Come on, you still wanted to be invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas!

"Sam." You took a deep breath, "I am truly sorry for… uhm… doing that. I know that you're being protective and I too would hang myself if I ever hurt Tara in anyway—"

"Mostly sexually." Tara chimed in the background, a shit-eating smirk on her face.

Sam tilted her head like some kind of horror movie scare, "Do you wanna explain what the fuck I just heard from my younger sister, y/n?"

"No, no! I haven't hurt Tara in that way, I swear—!"

"Probably because it felt so good."

You turned to Tara, face twisted for dear life, "Tara do you want my ass kicked or not!?"

Sadly for your long-lived lifespan, Sam was already towering over you.

"It was an accident, I promise, and I—!"

"So you just accidentally slipped and magically ended up being inside my sister for hours?"

Okay, maybe suicide really is the better option. How the fuck do you even respond to that!?

"I—" Fuck, shit, fuck, dick, how do you breathe!? "Well, I... I wouldn't phrase it like that—"

"You know the walls are thin?"

"Y..yes, I'm very sure and—"

"The whole damn house was barely holding up, I thought a fucking 9.8 magnitude earthquake started when I opened the door!"

"We... We are so sorry—"

"And you're also sure that I'd eventually slit your throat in half?"

"Sam, please, I really am s—"

"You know I have a fucking taser in my pocket? The only reason that's restraining me from using it because Tara's sees you as someone alright."

"...Uhm, sweet, but Sam—"

You would thank the heavens for such an assertive and a somehow kind of rebellious to her sisters wishes girlfriend by how Tara stood up so abruptly that a very poor and sad excuse of an excuse in your mind went away.

"You want an apology, Sam?" She tilted her head as she stepped forward, "I'll give you a fucking apology." You know, for a 5 foot nothing girl, she can definitely throw hands. Or words.

"We... are sorry. Actually, Y/n's—"

"Oh my god." You whined in the background.

"Y/n's very sorry for fucking—"

"Okay, no, stop." You interrupted immediately. Why the term!? Infront of her sister!?

"Having sex—!"

"No."

"Intercourse—!"

"No."

"Having... Having coitus—!"

"No, why the hell would you use that!?"

"Making love!"

"Best you could do."

"Y/n's very sorry for being so damn good making love to me in bed, making my mattress squeak louder than a fucking banshee with her cock ramming and giving me multiple orgasms that Danny can't even—!"

"Alllright, I'm stopping you before you get legally disowned at the age of 21" You grabbed Tara by her arms and lifted her up before your entire sex life with her comes tumbling down on your girlfriends sister.

The room was silent. Almost too silent, you swear you could go deaf if more than a second even passes by. Not even a rolling surge of tumbleweed could make it seem less awkward than it is. Even your dignity left.

That was until you heard Sam taking a deep breath.

Before you knew it, you were kicked out of the house with Tara's voice behind you literally defending by describing, in horrific detail, how good you were in bed until Sam shut her up.

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The walk home was and felt downright shameful, even the traffic lights refused to turn green for you. It's like you have a bindle attached to your palms to forever ingrain the memory of Sam's face while you were literally inches deep in Tara.

You crash into your apartment a minute later after fiddling with your keys, not even bothering to take off your coat. You just collapse onto the atleast comfortable carpet floor and let the mites decompose your entire body.

But not even god himself can let you mellow in your own embarrassment, sadness, awkwardness—literally all of the above—without your phone ringing at one of the worst times in your life. Soon you'll hope it'll be seven trumpets.

You blinked from your spot on the floor. It was too good and too much effort to even sit up properly and take the call.

With a soft groan, you roll over like a ragdoll, fumbling for your phone deep in your pockets. You were ready to decline right there and there, or maybe be a dick and answer just to hang up a second later after swearing at them.

Until you saw the name Tara Carpenter with a heart emoji beside it.

Of course, against your better judgment, you answer. How could you not?

"Can you come over?"

Tara's soft voice whispers over the phone, you can almost picture her twisting and turning on her bed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

You sigh heavily, managing to croak out a response, "Tara... you know I can't—"

"Please?"

You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest. She's using that voice that you're so sure could lead to you prison. You're just so glad you're not there in person to see her beautiful brown doe eyes.

You stand up abruptly, clearing your throat. "It's only been 30 minutes since Sam caught us and practically banished me from your home. How am I supposed to—"

"It’s like you’ve never snuck out before!"

"This time it’s serious, Tara! Pretty sure Sam literally hates my guts by now."

There's a pause that interrupts your thoughts, the line going completely silent, wondering if Tara got so irritated she actually hung up on you.

"...Tara?"

"I have windows." She responds, as if she's snapping her two fingers together, "You can sneak in through one."

You smiled. Of course she'd think of this now when all the times you've "snuck" in was through their door (surprisingly, it always worked in the middle of the night.)

"Thought Sam nailed them shut after hearing about a loose serial killer?"

"Found out it’s bullshit, just some teenagers having the trip to scare people for fun. Just—Please."

You roll your eyes, "Okay, well, I'm not going to risk my life—"

"You already are, I can hear you over the phone packing your shit."

Oh, how this girl knows you so well.

You zip up your bag while having your phone pinched between your ear and shoulder, "Yeah, see you in a bit."

The brunette chuckles over your words, you could already see her standing up and opening her window from the sounds you hear. Heavenly.

"Damn, you love me."

"Horribly. Say it back?"

"I will when you get here. Hurry, please."

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It took a long while to reach the Carpenters' house and even longer to actually go up to Tara's window. Climbing a nearby tree and swinging over like Tarzan was a real pain in the ass.

When you finally reach her window, you see Tara lying on her bed, headphones blaring so loudly you can hear the music from outside, plus she's wearing an oversized graphic tee that you're pretty sure is yours.

"Tara!" you call out, knocking on the side of the wall, your shoes gripping the bricks as you wait for her to notice your figure clinging onto a roof for dear life just outside.

Tara doesn't hear you at first, courtesy of the headphones you bought her for her 18th birthday. You knocked a bit louder, but not too loud Sam suspects something.

You have half a mind to just go in unannounced when Tara finally looks up and immediately rushes over your side.

"You know, it's actually harsh to keep a girl wai—"

You were wrapped between her arms before you could even finish.

Tara's lips met yours in a way you melt instantly beneath her breathless, parting her lips and tilting her head to give herself better access inside of you.

She's soft in your arms, yet so eager by how she's gripping the collar of your shirt and pulling you as if you could be any more entwined.

"You kept me waiting." She breaks only to whisper, words coming in a rasp with her breath hot on your lips as she draws you in for more of her.

You're dizzy, hazed, intoxicated, completely fucked by how her tongue presses on yours so painfully heavenly and her teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. You could stumble around your words if she let you to speak. Your hands could go nowhere but on their perfect place on her waist.

Her fingers trail against your skin, tangling within the strands of hair only to pull you more closer to her, forcing your head to tilt at an angle that could make her invade all the right places inside of you.

You sigh in her mouth before regrettably pushing her away, "You wanted to see me?"

Tara's lips curve as she she presses herself against you, her hands traveling from your chest to your face, brushing her fingers gently against your cheek. The mere motion sending cold shivers down your spine that reminds you of your cock slowly growing beneath layers of fabric.

"Fuck that, I needed you." She murmurs, your heart running faster than the way her breathing goes after making out with you. Her hands seemingly wanting nothing more than to roam over your body, tracing all the way down to palm your growing erection underneath your shorts.

A low groan escaped your lips, yours hands finding their way down to softly cup the curve of her ass. "Tara please, don't..."

"Hm," she hums softly, brown eyes filled with nothing but lost gazing directly at your own, "You know I can't resist you, especially when I have you like this," Her voice is teasing. Tantalizing, even, marked with an innocent smile on her face as if she's not an inch away of giving you a handjob.

A chaste peck on your lips was enough for you to spiral and your dick to throb from its clothed prison, her fingers tracing lazy circles around your cock until she stopped at the dip of the waistbands of your shorts.

"You wanna fuck me first, or should I take the lead?"

Your mind raced, cock twitching from her voice alone, words spent while your breathing was anything but calm, pupils blown out and dilated as you looked at the brunette. But there's only one answer that she needed from you.

Without a word, your hands slid under her thighs, effortlessly lifting her up from the floor and straddling her figure down to her ass at your arms, earning a startled hum from the girl.

Her arms went around your neck, one hand trailing from your nape to the strands of your hair, pulling your head closer to her, meeting your lips in an immediate kiss that had Tara moaning and desperately bucking her hips.

You carried her to bed with her legs wrapped tightly around your waist while her hands lingered on your neck, fingers delicately tracing your jawline while she ravished your mouth alone.

Tara was sloppy with you, kisses so wet and desperate, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. She was filthy by how she gazed at you with eyes as if she was innocent, how she let her fingers roam your body in all the right places that had your dick leaking.

With a soft groan, you laid her down on the bed, your hands moving to grip her hips as she continued to explore your mouth, not once did she pull away. Not even to spare a breath.

But, you surrendered to her, pulling her away with a string of saliva connecting your lips together.

Fuck, she looked divine.

A sight you always saw in the middle of the night, yet not even the light could take you away from her. Lips stained with mixed saliva from the both of you. Even with your own inches away, her lips stay parted as she pants for air.

It took you a while before you even noticed Tara and you were completely naked, the small girl revealing to be wearing nothing the whole time you were there.

"Shit, Tara. You were wearing nothing but my shirt?" You rasped, breathing heavily while you placed your arms in between her head to push yourself up.

She smiled, chuckled even as she looked at you, hands traveling from your neck down to your chest, "You know I love putting on a show for you, baby." She winked as her fingers ghosted over your nipples, touch so warm and delicate before sliding lower, tracing the lines of your abs. "Fuck, you're so hot like this."

You shivered underneath her touch, even forgetting you were the one who brought her to such a state, yet you were the one who looked pathetic. Whining and completely whimpering on top of her.

You swallow hard, trying to maintain even the slightest bit of dignity and control. "Tara," you whisper, "You're driving me crazy."

She giggles softly, "Good," she murmurs before grasping your wrist and guiding your hand to the waistband of your shorts. "That's exactly what I want to do. Just fuck me, please."

You couldn't hold back any longer as you pulled down your shorts, boxers sliding down your waist as your aching cock springing out, slapping against your chest while it stood tall and hard for seven inches.

Your hand slipped between your bodies to grasp the throbbing length, tip dripping with pre-cum as your thumb grazed over the slit. "Wanna see how good you take me, Tara." You wrapped your fingers around your cock, stroking it up and down as you guided it along her slick folds. "Fuck, you're soaked."

"Stop… Stop teasing, please, oH GOD!"

Tara's hands frantically had a tight grip on your shoulders as you shoved every inch of you inside of her, breath erratic as she tried to suppress every moan down in her throat, her back arching off the bed as you penetrated her so deep

The intense stretch made her eyes flutter open, rolling into the back of head, letting out tears from the pain as her toes curled in pleasure.

You weren't holding up either, she took you so well, her red velvety and slick walls tightening around your cock drove you into a haze. Her nails leaving red marks in their wake on your back, the atmosphere filled with the sounds of skin against skin, gasps and moans of pleasure from Tara increasingly getting louder.

"F-fuck… Oh, fuck!" She gasped, moving her hips to the rhythm of her trusts as you grabbed both of her legs and pulled her closer to you, "Yeah.. Yeah, right there baby!"

All you could think about were her soft moans, face crying from a mixture of pain and pleasure from being stuffed to the brim, keeping a steady pace that had her a moaning mess on your hands.

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You know, Sam always had weird dreams. Weirder than the next, gory than anything from the amount of horror movies she watched along with her younger sister, Tara.

Anything you could do to Sam, she would barely give one or two fucks. Scary movie? More of a boring sit-com that tries to give characters motive and plot some development. Jumpscare her? Reality or movies, either way, you're getting a jumpscare yourself by a hospital bill after she's done with you.

She fears nothing. Except when she woke up just now, hearing her younger sisters voice down the hallway from her room.

Oh my fucking, GOD.

She hopes it'll be a dream, she'd take anything but this. Ever since Tara got a girlfriend, you were nothing but a pain in the ass for her. I mean, she trusts you, sure, but not that enough.

The older Carpenter gets up almost immediately, eyebrows furrowed while her heart heaved with anger. And most probably wrath, and an apology to Tara if she ever found out that her girlfriend was bashed on the skull by her sister.

Every walk she made, the noises got louder yet softer. By the time she was at her door, the noises dropped. Was it all a dream? A nightmare maybe? She'd take that any day.

"Tara!" She yelled out as she took notice of the light illuminating on the creaks of her room., softly knocking on her door. Even if you were there, it's still a 50/50 chance that Tara's actually sleeping. Or sleepwalking even.

She waits for a second.

Then two.

Three.

Four—Okay, no, she's opening the damn door.

She turns the doorknob and immediately bursts into the room. Her eyes scanning the space for any signs of you.

There doesn't seem to be anything.

Her eyes immediately spotted Tara. Or maybe half of her peeking out of the soft blanket with a pillow in between her legs. The only thing that seemed out of place was her window open.

She was about to move a lazy strand of hair away from her face, her hand was already hovering over her body. That was until Tara moved on her own. Murmuring something about some TV show. Or a cinema date, whatever it is that involved your godforsaken name.

"Thank God, that scared me." Sam whispered to herself before going over to Tara's bed, eyes still wandering over Tara's sleeping (?) face before standing up and leaving the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You popped out of the blanket that was covering both you and Tara after giving her one of the best orgasms she's ever had. But the heart attack you both experienced when you heard Sam's footsteps was not fucking it!

A tense breath escapes your lips, relief flooding through you as you look at Tara, post-orgasm. Her eyes are dazed, a silly smile adorning her face.

"Tara, seriously, do you never lock your doors?" you whisper to her, arms sliding on her back to flip the both of you over. Your hands cupping her cheeks, trailing her jawline while you tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.

Tara's laughter rings out softly in the quiet, her cheeks flushed with her chest heaving. There was always something you loved about her smile, her laugh. Sure it was because it was like a taste of heaven as some pathetic human, but… Dimples. Dim-fucking-ples.

She rolls her eyes, letting her head fall on your collarbone. "I have Sam Carpenter in my bloodline, it's pointless."

"Don't be so hard on her." You stroke her hair gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "She's just looking out for you," you remind her, tone soft with understanding.

She sighs against your skin. "She's overdoing it. Like, I can throw a punch. Did you not see the fight I pulled with that dick from a party in the middle of nowhere may I remind you? I could've sworn Mindy sent the video to you!"

"Yeah Tara, but you're also an A24 chick who could memorize the full script of The Babadook, I love you for it baby." You laughed. "But Sam is just looking out for you. Especially me, I literally just fucked her sister in her house."

Tara looks up at you. Batting her eyelashes and smirking while she tilted her head, planting a chaste kiss near your lips, but not near enough you could taste her. "And you fucked her so well."

"We are not having another round, Tara."

"You know me so well it's fucking irritating. Can you just not?" She scoffs, but only playfully.

"But you actually should lock them, it's a safety hazard."

"Mhm, and you should let me ride you." She turns to the side, falling over your body, her hands tracing the soft dips and your toned abs.

"After that heart attack? No, Tara."

"Yeah?" She cocked her head, "Then why not give me more reasons why you're still hard."

"Oh..." You looked down. Fuck, you are. "Oh, fuck you."

"I'm hoping you will."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before turning to her side, "By the way, you never said the thing."

She wrapped her arms around your body as you faced her. "Oh, what thing this time, baby?"

You sigh.

"I love you."

Tara laughs. She knew what you wanted.

"I love you too."

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a/n: im back!

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x gpreader #tara carpenter x gp!reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

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princessbellecerise · 11 months

Text

Forbidden Relationship

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | In which the House of the Dragon characters want what they cannot have—you

warnings | Forbidden romance trope and smut, canon incest, slight breeding kink for Jace

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Jace was already betrothed, promised to your sister—the eldest as was he

As the oldest brother and future King, it was his duty to marry well and Baela was just that. She would make a good Queen, Jacaerys knew that, but she was not who he wanted

It was really you that the Prince desired; her youngest sister. Locked away by your father in fear that his youngest daughter was growing too fast. You were the most like Laena therefore the most precious to Daemon. But he wasn’t the only one

Jace had loved you ever since you were kids. Ever since he first met you, on that dreadful day at your mother’s funeral. He had held your hand while you cried and didn’t let go not once

When the whole incident went down with Aemond, Jace had attacked his uncle because it was you he pushed. He was defending you, as he would continue to do growing up

You had spent your entire childhood with Jace and grown into young adulthood together. You played together, rode your dragons together, and you loved together no matter how much Daemon tried to keep you apart

It wasn’t like your father was doing it to be cruel; he just knew that one day it had to be Baela that married him, not you

After all, she was older than you and wiser. Fit to be Queen while a third daughter was not

It didn’t matter how much you loved Jacaerys or how much he loved you, it just couldn’t be

Or at least, that’s what the people on the outside thought

On the inside, though, you and Jace shared a bond that no one knew about. A love that was pure and kind, like you both were

A love that could never be; forever hidden under bed sheets and secluded corridors

It didn’t matter to your father that Jace had snuck in your room plenty of times to take you. It didn’t matter that the future king had promised to give you heirs every time he laid with you or that he had fulfilled that promise multiple times

Jacaerys was an honorable man, yes, but not when he was desperate. Not when he was in love

There wasn’t a time when Jace hadn’t given you his seed, praying each time that it stuck so that Dameon would have no choice but to wed the two of you

He hoped and he hoped but alas; Daemon Targaryen was not a man easily swayed. Each night Jace tried to impregnate you would be contradicted by Moon Tea in the morning

Your tears soaking his chest each time that you cried, realizing that your father would never let up, and that no matter what you did, the man you loved the most would always be promised to your sister

Lucerys Velaryon

Hadn’t he taken enough?

It felt wrong; wanting something from Aemond when Lucerys had already stolen his eye

It felt wrong wanting you, the One-Eyed Targaryen’s sweet baby sister, when Luke had already taken so much

But alas, when Lucerys traveled back to the Red Keep to solidify his claim to Driftmark, that’s when he met you and has his whole life turned upside

You’re kind, that’s the first thing he noticed. The second was how pretty you grew up to be. But most of all, after all these years, Luke noticed that you seemed to harbor no ill feelings towards him, unlike your mother and brothers

You spent time with him when no one else would, showing him around the castle and explaining all the things he missed, much to the dismay of your mother

The two of you became close in a short amount of time and it’s no surprise that he ends up falling in love with you, and you him. Even though you shouldn’t, seeing as you knew better than anyone the animosity your mother and especially your brother harbored against Luke

Even your drunk of a brother Aegon felt bitter about it, but you…

Perhaps you were just young, dumb, and in love

Or maybe it was rationality that helped you put aside your feelings, hearing the story from Luke’s perspective and realizing he truly did think Aemond was going to kill Jace

Not a full excuse but it was enough to come to an understanding. Luke was a child, and so was Aemond. Yes, it never should have happened but it did and it was the adults in their lives that had failed them

Your mother and grandsire failed you by filling your head with so much hate, so maybe that’s why you fell for Lucerys so hard. Relishing in the stages of young, first love and the thrill of sneaking around

The entire time his family stays at the Keep, you and Luke have to dodge the ever watchful eyes of your brothers and your mother

Lying to her isn��t easy but it’s manageable, especially when Queen Alicent has much more worrisome things to attend to. She hardly frets about her second youngest child, her baby girl. Mainly because you were supposed to be under the watchful eyes of her lap dog, Ser Criston Cole

Over the years though, he’s grown lax in his position. Carelessly falling asleep on his watch, which gives Lucerys the perfect opportunity to sneak into your room

Sometimes, he brings books to read to you and you’ll lay on his chest while he speaks your mother tongue. High Valerian that’s better than yours and Aemond’s combined, the two of you always giggling and kissing under the covers

Other times, you’ll sing to him softly and play with his hair. Listening to his worries about inheriting Driftmark or not being good enough

Each time, you’d kiss his insecurities away and reassure him that’s he more than capable and good enough

When you do, Luke swears each time that he falls more and more in love

It becomes devastating, knowing that he has to leave you and the only comfort he’s ever known. Sure, Rhaenyra listens to his worries but not like you. You’re special to Luke, and though he knows your family will never allow it, he wishes to be betrothed

He doesn’t want to go back to Dragonstone without you, and so he doesn’t

One night, just days before he and his family are set to return, Luke sneaks into your room for the final time. Slipping past Criston Cole, he enters your chambers and sees you crying your eyes out

You don’t want him to leave, and it breaks his heart to see you that way. But maybe, he expresses to you, it doesn’t have to be the end between you two

You both have dragons, Luke tells you

And one day, your family would understand if you were to leave with him, to become his wife. They would have to respect your choices because surely the King would

Viserys would be overjoyed with the union, Luke convinces you. The king would be so happy that your families were finally reunited that he wouldn’t even care that you ran away to be with Luke

One day, everyone would just look back and laugh at the fact that the young princess and prince were so desperate to be together that they fled in the middle of the night and rode their dragons back to his ancestral home

One day, Alicent would cope with the fact that her youngest daughter was stolen away by the dragon prince. That Aemond would weep tears of joy that his baby sister was given to the boy that stole his eye

It would all be fine, is what you think when you do run away with Lucerys Velaryon, but you were young and dumb and in love

The consequences never once occurring to you until it’s too late

Aemond Targaryen

You weeped and prayed to the Gods for your good luck when you found out you had been assigned to serve the Prince Aemond instead of his brother, Aegon

Literal tears were rolling down your face from being so relieved, happy that you would escape from an unpleasant fate like the women before you

After all, the rumors about Aegon were enough make anyone quake, and while you were well aware that Prince Aemond was known for being cruel or indifferent, at least he treated people humanely

When you first started serving him, he never touched you once or did anything inappropriate. He was polite, always saying please and thank you which shocked you

You weren’t expecting the prince to be so…kind. Especially not to you, a lowborn serving girl

It took you by surprise, but it was pleasant. Pleasant enough that after a few months, you could safely say that you…enjoyed the Prince’s company

Sometimes, he’d be reading while you prepared his baths and he’d call you over to ask for your opinion

Or, he’d be in the library and decide he wanted a snack, calling for you specifically but asking you to stay even after you’ve completed your duties

You had to admit, you weren’t expecting to get so close to Aemond. Yes, he was kind to you but that’s about all he felt for you. Or so you thought

It didn’t take long for you to realize that the prince was doing all of that because he enjoyed your company. He liked being around you, liked hearing you speak when you discussed history with him and he liked laughing with you and sharing his sweets even though he wasn’t supposed to

Aemond enjoyed your presence more than a prince of his station should have, and you most certainly enjoyed him more than a servant should have

After all, it was dishonorable and down right illegal for a woman of your position to fool around with someone of such high rank

Prince Aemond was off limits, you knew that from the various warnings the head servant had given you. A strong message to all the servants that many have tried to seduce the princes before and very little have succeeded. If they did they were quickly disposed of and all but doomed themselves to a life worse than death

It wasn’t worth the risk, she had told you, especially not with Aemond. No, a prince like him had never and would never disgrace himself like that. He would never fall for someone like you

But if that were truly the case, then what were you doing in his bedsheets every night?

His cock disappearing in your cunt, Aemond whispering words of praises left and right. His lips were forever attached to yours, it seemed, never wanting to leave. Never wanting to face the realities that came later

He had told you he loved you time and time again. Beginning from the fifth meet-up, or maybe the sixth. You didn’t know, it had been so long, after all

You and Aemond had been together for the better part of a year and it was surprise that no one had ever caught onto you

They all simply thought that you were just devoted to the prince, as a good servant should be. Even his mother, the Queen, had personally praised you for exceeding your duties

No one knew that you had been so excellent because you loved him, and he you

No one knew, and no one could ever know as much as it pained you both to say

You had to hide your love with stolen kisses and secret glances. Behind closed doors, always, for knew Aemond knew the risks, as did you

And you both knew that if you were ever discovered then you’d never see each other again

Aemond cherished every moment he had with you even if was only in the privacy of his chambers. And as much as he hated sneaking around and hiding his relationship with you, he’d much rather love you in the dark than for you to be sent away or worse—executed all because two people just so happened to fall in love

It was worst his nightmare, someone taking you away him. He hated to think about it, dreaded knowing that day could come

He hated knowing that the two of you could never truly be together

For he was him, and you were you

The two of you forever doomed to love one another while being forced to pretend such a thing didn’t exist

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon smut #lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader

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bunny-yan · 4 months

Note

Didn't Tasman always married some other girl in all the previous timelines? I think lover is justified in not trusting him one bit. Imagine if she throws that fact in his face and how all she ever wanted is someone loyal and he's never loyal to her while she always was.

You are just begging to make him angry aren't you? Our hero doesn't like to be questioned. TW: mentions of abuse, depictions of violence, language, mentions death,

—

You stared. You didn’t know what else to do when he presented you with a simple ring etched with declarations of love and devotion.

His eyes were shining, hopeful as he knelt and presented it to you.

Onlookers whispered, most stopping to witness history being made. The world’s hero was proposing to an average commoner after all. You could see the looks of disgust on the faces of his party members as they watched the tragic display.

You felt your stomach clench painfully, the butterflies more like cicadas fighting desperately to be freed from such a narrow space. Your hands were clammy as you wrung them together, you felt lightheaded, and it took every fiber of your being to prevent yourself from passing out from pure shock.

Why would he do something like this after the screaming fit the two of you had the night before? It was hardly a good sign that it was time to spend the rest of your lives together. Especially considering how that fight ended.

You didn’t want to think about the bruises that were hidden underneath the long-sleeved tunic you were wearing despite the blazing temperatures. If you thought about the terrible words whispered harshly in your ear, the rough hands, you thought you’d puke and ruin this heartfelt display.

“I know it took longer than we thought, but I wanted to keep my promise.”

An understatement.

A fucking understatement is what it was. You’d made the promise to grow up and get married to your childhood friend in your first life. To propose talking about an age-old promise, that had been broken as far as you were concerned, felt cruel.

Shaking your head, you tried to keep your voice soft so you didn’t embarrass him and give all of these people another reason to hate you.

“Tasman, don’t do this.”

His eyes shined, if he heard what you said, he didn’t acknowledge it as his smile grew before sealing the nail in your coffin.

“Will you marry me?”

Gasps echoed throughout the crowd, the throng of people desperate to push closer to see who the potential partner their savior was taking, to hear what you would say after being given such an honor. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t hurt by how unimpressed some of them were. You could amount it to jealousy and you were sure that’s what it was, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to blame them when they didn’t know that their hero was a monster disguised as a saint. And how could they? He’d kept it so well hidden, even you didn’t find out until this lifetime.

It was cruel to abandon you after asking you to wait for him. Marrying another broke your heart, but any hope you had of rekindling anything other than a burning disdain for your childhood friend seemed impossible when your forgiveness was usurped by his selfishness to finally take what he never seemed to want before.

The longer you stood there, awkwardly staring at him, the louder the whispers grew.

His bright smile waned and stress began to appear on his features. Why weren’t you accepting? He’d finally done the one thing the two of you wanted. It should’ve made you happy. Why weren’t you happy?

“Lover?” he said, voice strained as he debated to stand or remain kneeling.

You shook your head again. Overwhelmed by feelings that hit you like a freight train you whipped around before almost running away. The crowd parted to let you through, finally silent as they looked at their savior, struck dumb, still on his knees as he watched you disappear.

It was the wrong move.

You should’ve gratefully accepted his offer, hiding the disgusting feelings from sight until you could tell him, behind closed doors, just how you felt about even the thought of marrying him.

Instead, you ran. It was dumb. It was stupid to believe that you would have time to process your feelings before confronting him and when a hand caught your elbow just as you reached the door to the inn you rarely got a chance to leave, the ominous feeling in your gut solidified as you looked back and stared into unquestionably angry purple eyes.

You were dragged to your prison faster than you could stumble behind him and you winced when your knee banged on the stairs. He didn’t slow down, refusing to let you go until you were shoved inside the bedroom.

“Do you insist on making a fool of me?”

“I don’t know what you expected me to say.”

“Was a simple ‘yes’ too much to ask for?”

It was, but you didn’t tell him that. Staring at the floor, you rubbed a hand over your face as you tried to make sense of the turmoil you’d been thrown into.

“Where is all of this coming from?”

He grit his teeth, closing the door to your bedroom when familiar voices could be heard entering the common area. Didn’t want them to know about the trouble in paradise, even though it was clear not only from the embarrassing display but from the way the two of you would fight incessantly. About anything and everything since you were brought here.

Taking a deep breath, he walked closer to you before holding your hands in his as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“I thought my feelings were clear.” When you didn’t speak, he continued. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We made a promise to be together when we were younger and I want to make good on it.”

Looking into his eyes, you said, “You remembered.”

A lone tree in your hometown held your initials encased in a heart with his. The two of you promised that you would always be together and that when you got older, you’d spend the rest of your days in love and inseparable.

Narrowing your eyes, you ripped your hands out of his grip. “It’s a little late.” Pacing to the window with Tasman on your heels, you said, “We made that promise ages ago. Lifetimes ago. That tree is dead if it still even exists along with that useless promise.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not too late.”

“It is!” you exclaimed, turning to face him. “I don’t love you Tasman. The days I dreamt of marrying you and spending the rest of our lives together are long gone. They were crushed after you took that vow with someone else.”

“We talked about this,” he said, exasperated.

“And yet I’m still angry.”

“Don’t you realize how selfish you’re being?” And here it was. “Holding on to something that happened in the past when I’m trying to make up for it now. I’m trying to make this work. To make us work and you refuse to stop acting like a spoilt child.”

Typical Tasman. Resorting to calling you selfish whenever he couldn’t comfortably paint himself a victim of circumstance. It was old news. It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did, but the words buried themselves in your skin, threatening to rip out every violent impulse and dig up each insecurity you tried so hard to manage.

“I’m a spoiled child and yet you can’t seem to stop clinging to me despite how much I make it clear that I want nothing to do with you. Your mistakes were in the past? Well, our love is too.”

He slapped you across the face. Hard enough to knock you from your feet. Your knees banged harshly on the carpeted floors and you held your cheek as you looked up at him.

He wasn’t above putting his hands on you, but he’d never done it without warning, without physical resistance on your part.

You stared at him, frozen as he glared down at you.

“You’re acting ridiculous.” Fingers clenching and unclenching, his intimidating figure towered over you as he went on his tirade. “Have you ever thought about how I must’ve felt? Having to leave you behind? Being used as a disposable tool to fight someone else’s battles? I would’ve given anything to stay by your side, to grow up together and live a normal life, but I had to become the hero. To save the world. To save you. I sacrificed my life, my humanity to give you the chance to live freely and you’re whining about not being with me for a couple of lifetimes? I spent decades trying to forget you. Centuries! Long after you disappeared from this world. Because, unlike your existence, the hero’s fate only ends when the world does. Would you have had me tease myself with a glimpse of what happiness could have been like by coming back? Spending a single century by your side before you grew old and left me with memories of what living was?”

For all the pain in his voice, you could only think about how much your jaw ached. How devastated you felt learning of his multitude of affairs. Sure he could claim that none of them mattered, that he was doing it to forget about you, but where did that leave you? Where did it leave the centuries worth of feelings that continued to go unanswered?

Quietly, so softly that it wouldn’t have been heard by anyone other than him, you said, “It took you eight centuries to change your mind?”

You looked at him and something was off about his gaze.

Something was wrong.

What had changed? He’d abandoned you time and time again and only now did he return. He’d spent the last eight lifetimes treating you as a placeholder that he never planned on coming back to. What was so important that forced him to come running back?

Your mouth opened, slack in realization. It made you sick to your stomach to even consider, but you had to know.

“Why don’t you let me go back to my life without you?”

“What life?” he said, spitting out the words as if they were poison in his mouth. “You were an orphan, wanted by no one. You had no friends,” Because of him. “You couldn’t hold down a job.” Because of him. “You couldn’t even manage to find an apprenticeship. You had no future before you met me.”

“At least let me spend eight of my lives fucking other people and we can call it even.” you snapped. You felt fear coil in your stomach at the rage that poured through his gaze as he descended upon you. Grabbing your shirt by the collar he yanked you to your feet before he got in your face.

“You’re mine.” he said with a snarl.

There it was.

The ugly jealousy that reared its head whenever you proposed a life without him. He couldn’t bear to live with the thought of living without you, yet he refused to allow you to live a life where you could potentially forget about him.

You weren’t allowed to move on and experience life. He’d rather go back on his mind-numbingly nonsensical ideals and trap you by his side, even offering something you would’ve cried tears of joy for had it been one lifetime earlier, rather than let you go.

You didn’t think your heart could break further, but you couldn’t help it as you thought of how easily all of this could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t waited. If you would have decided to live instead of wasting away again and again.

Tasman would’ve come running back, both of you surprised and young, eyes unwearied from the knowledge of previous lives, of heartbreak and loneliness.

Of betrayal.

Maybe the two of you would’ve argued, he would claim you broke your promise by not waiting for him and you would argue that you didn’t have to remain trapped in the same town to wait for him to finish fighting and come back to you. Maybe he would’ve gotten angry and insisted that you stay and when you refused, maybe he would’ve offered to bring you with him. Making new promises of protection, promising to help fight each others’ battles, and keeping old ones of loyalty and love.

Thinking about it now, the idea felt like a distant fairytale. An unthinkable possibility looking at the man you no longer loved.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, reaching into his pocket.

You panicked when he pulled out the ring.

“To let every know, we’ll marry and make it the wedding of the century once I defeat the Demon King.”

You tried to tug your wrist out of his grip, but it was like iron. When the ring got closer, you balled your hand into a fist. You knew there was no real point in fighting him, but you had to do whatever it took to prevent this from happening.

Irritant and unwilling to play the kind hero who would never hurt a soul, you screamed as your wrist was crushed in his hand. Your fingers splayed on reflex and he smiled when he was finally able to slide the ring on your finger.

“How lovely,” he hummed almost longingly.

A silent chant set your wrist and he released it to allow you to curl into yourself on the floor. You felt little other than a dull ache, but you couldn’t forget the feeling of your wrist shattering that quickly.

“Don’t bother trying to take it off. You won’t like what happens if you do.” he said before turning and leaving the room without another word. You could hear the insincere congratulations pour in, muffled from beyond the door.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yandere hero

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rippersz · 3 months

Text

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚

────﹒﹒✦﹒﹒────

(Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Reader) (NSFW: Cunnilingus, Overstimulation; Fluff) (~1.3K words)

────﹒﹒✦﹒﹒────

Brienne held the kindest soul. Always hidden behind a tough exterior, yes, but kind nevertheless. She was so eager to be of service and fight for her honor, for her morals, for her people. Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the best of her ranks. The best of her warriors. Perhaps not as strong as some of the men, but definitely more intelligent. Definitely more lithe. Quick, even in her armor. Brutal, even in her training.

You enjoyed watching from the walls of the castle, looking down at the training grounds with amused eyes as she barked orders and corrected stances and cut down a few arrogant souls with one swift slash of her sword. It wasn’t very funny to her, but sometimes, in the dark of night beneath your blankets, you were able to pull a laugh or two from her tired body. Gossiping about how stupid and oaf-ish some of the men could be, and mimicking their silly deep voices so outrageously that she was forced to wack at your shoulder and roll her eyes in eternal exasperation. You delighted in those moments, especially when you could lean over and push a smooshed sloppy kiss onto her cheek - giggling when she shoved you away and pretended to get sick into her palm. Also a tactic to hide the blush on her face, but you never confronted her about it.

Though it was no surprise, of course, for a woman like Brienne to take her passion for combat into other areas of her life. Her vigor when mounting and riding her horse, the quick sharp movements of her hand and her penmanship, and the way she pulled on her armor without needing help. All done with a certain level of dedication and precision. All done without complaint. You admired those qualities about her, and you told her so often.

You told her so often… when you weren’t being fucked dumb on top of her face. Held by her strong hands. With a dedicated, precision-focused Brienne looking up at you through hooded lashes.

She was flushed and sweating, with the soft baby hairs at her temples slicking back into the rest of her golden locks. Splayed out like a halo on the front of the feathered pillow. She was an absolute vision there, your warrior. Eyes so dark and sharp, watching the way your breasts bounced and your lips parted - swollen from the biting kisses she placed there not too long ago. Something had happened earlier in the day that led to her desperation. The very moment the door to your quarters was closed and locked, those calloused hands were running to your hips and bringing you in. Closer and closer and closer to her, until she nearly ripped the shirt from her head and the dress from your body.

“I’ve missed you,” she huffed into your ear before pressing hot kisses down the line of your neck, trailing her tongue in a delightful little dance across your skin. You were so sensitive for her, and so familiar with being in control, that the loss of it had you losing your courage.

“You saw me- oh gods- e-earlier,” was your whispered response, though it was shoved out of your mouth by the hand that wound itself into your hair and tugged backward.

“I don’t care,” Brienne seethed. “I always miss you.” And the softness that came with such words was only reserved for you. In front of others, she wouldn’t dare, but there were no others there. It was only you, grasping her shoulders, and her, leaning down and walking you toward the bed.

The bed, where she had you falling apart.

The bed, which you could barely see because dear fucking gods her tongue was ruining your senses. It was an eager thing. Absolutely hungry. Running over your clit in perfect circles, flicking and teasing and pulling soft whimpers from your chest. Stroking the flames of your desire, building them up and up and up until they swallowed you whole. From the prickles of heat at the base of your skull all the way to your curling toes and shaking thighs. You were so sensitive, pushing yourself against the wall to stop yourself from losing balance, utterly embarrassed to feel the drool leak out of your mouth as the overwhelming tide of bliss came over you again. And again. And again. Washing away your thoughts, your earthly desires, and leaving a raw woman behind. Shuddering above the wicked mouth of your lover, with her sharp jaw burning in exertion and her sweet brow furrowed, too concentrated to care about her tired muscles. Long fingers kept you pinned, digging into the crease of your thigh and tummy, and her arms flexed with the strength it took to keep you still and open for her. At her dear excruciating mercy. Quivering on top of that handsome face and feeling your muscles clench eagerly when she filled you up with her tongue and moaned. Forcing the warm flutters from your body while she closed those gorgeous blue eyes and lapped at your mess.

“B-Brienne- please!” Your words were slurred and sloppy, mumbled helplessly against the wall. Every part of your body crumbled from the exquisite burn. “Please- ungh- can’t-”

But Brienne didn’t care if you could or couldn’t. The only response you got was a throaty groan and a small quirk of pale, wet lips. Her silent pleasure at your beautiful praise. Her gentle purrs at your eager whines. She was more than willing to drown in you - if only it meant you were satisfied and happy and so tired by the end of it that she wouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about you being the ‘big spoon’. That is, of course, if your arms ever became strong enough to hold her again. It was far too easy to lose yourself in the pleasure she gave, desperate and starved, and when your hands ran to tangle themselves in her soft hair, she seemed to know that just for a moment- you had had enough.

“Dear gods Brienne!” You huffed as soon as her arms pulled you down toward her chest and she had enough leverage to flip you around and put herself on top. “That- I-” a soft whine bubbled up from your throat, swiftly cutting off your words when she leaned down and pressed soft pecks to your cheeks and neck. They were easy and light, so quick and delicate on your skin that they could’ve been raindrops. Your eyes slid closed with bliss. Whatever you were going to say was lost to the feeling of her chest pressing into your own and the sweet subtle hum between your legs.

“Are you alright?” Brienne murmured, shoving her mouth against the space above your heart to grant it the sweetest of kisses.

All you could give her, your darling warrior, was a pleased grunt. You were more than alright. You were loved. Cared for. You were pleasured within an inch of your life and intelligent conversation was far above you then. Perhaps after a warm night together, you’d be able to return the favor in the morning. Though Brienne was never the type of woman to care so much about reciprocation, and the soft amused snort she responded with was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.

“Can I- tomorrow- hng.” You stuttered, waving your hand like a white flag in the air. Too tired to bother stringing together a proper sentence.

Brienne’s smile was small and full of pride when she sat up.

“Rest now, love,” she leaned in and swiped her thumb along your cheek, silently admiring you in all of your sensitive glory. “And we’ll see about tomorrow.”

Well. You heard the woman. And there was no need for her to tell you twice.

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Short but sweet. - Rip x

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Tags: @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @syrenacrainn @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @willisnotmental @gela123 @zillahofviolets-bayolet @the-bearr @amateurwritescm @h-doodles

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#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne of tarth x fem!reader #fem!reader #brienne got #got brienne of tarth #got brienne #wlw fanfic #wlw ns/fw fanfic #got fanfiction #wlw

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tarrynightss · 1 year

Note

Tsu’tey x Reader wherein reader is Sylwanin and Neytiri’s younger sister? Maybe she’s always liked Tsu’tey but he always had eyes on Sylwanin and she didn’t ever want to hurt her older sister by admitting it, and when she died and Neytiri was betrothed to him, she never says anything because Tsu’tey has always expressed his want to be Olo’eyktan. Though when Jake had mated with Neytiri, the role to be betrothed to Tsu’tey is passed on to her? Tsu’tey lives okay after the war 😭 and reader tries to keep herself at a distance because she knows that Tsu’tey would never love her like he did with Sylwanin but Tsu’tey does begin to love her?

Omg the angst 😭 Thank you for sending a request! I hope it’s along the lines of what you wanted!

Pairing: Tsu’tey x fem!Na’vi reader

Warnings: Angst, pining

skxawng = moron

Wiya = damn

Oel ngati kameie = I see you

Nga yawne lu oer = I love you

As the youngest daughter you had always known your place. You were not destined to be the next Tsahìk like your sister Sylwanin, nor were you expected to be a great hunter like Neytiri. You lived a life with less expectations, but that also meant you stood in the shadow of your sisters. You didn’t mind it most of the time, except when it came to Tsu’tey. You watched him from a distance, a shameful longing building up inside you every time he spared you a word or even just a glance. At first he had been destined to mate with Sylwanin, this position later being put on Neytiri after your oldest sister’s death, leaving Tsu’tey heartbroken.

You felt filled with shame when your sister Sylwanin died, all those moments you had brushed her off out of jealousy weighing heavy on your shoulders. You vowed to not repeat the same mistake with Neytiri. You respected her future union with Tsu’tey and did your best to support it, but your sister did not want it. She did not love Tsu’tey, and he did not love her.

It was hard to get past your feelings for him as he was constantly around you and your family. He ate with you, hunted with you. Seeing his face was a daily occurrence. Neytiri would often run off when she saw a chance to, leaving you alone with her future mate. Your heart would beat madly in those moments, every time his eyes met yours feeling so intense. It was all in your head, you told yourself. Tsu’tey had only loved someone once, and that person had not been you.

Ma oeyä tsmukan you called him. My brother. It was an honor and comfort to call another one of the People that, yet the word felt somehow dirty in your mouth when you spoke it to him.

As well over a year passed without Tsu’tey and Neytiri mating, you felt him draw closer to you. A press of his chest against your back while you hunted, supposedly to watch your form, or a gaze that lingered just too long to be friendly. It was too much for you and it sent your mind reeling. What if he wanted you? You could not do that to your sister, nor to him! He had wanted to be Olo'eyktan for as long as you remembered, and so he needed the future Tsahìk, not her spare.

It is not until one night at a celebration that your hope is quickly squashed. You had grown tired after all the dancing and singing, retiring to your hammock far earlier than others. There, watching from above, you observed two figures running off together. As they briefly paused to paw at each other's bodies, your heart froze. It was Tsu’tey, with another woman. It wasn’t uncommon for Na’vi who hadn’t been officially mated yet to take other partners, so that wasn’t what shocked you. The shock came from the realization that all that fondness that he had been showing you lately was very likely linked to this. He had not grown to care for you, but merely wanted to blow off some steam and assumed his future mate’s little sister to be dumb or desperate enough. And you had almost fallen for it. Shame filled you once again and you had quickly turned away from the sight, feeling truly less than for the first time in years.

—

Many things had changed in the last month. Neytiri became mated to Jake sully, a dreamwalker who went from hated by the clan to adored when he returned as Toruk Makto. Your home was destroyed, your father dead, and a once again mateless Tsu’tey had been passed onto you.

The moment you had secretly dreamed of as a child had come to pass, but you did not feel happy. You, the future Tsahìk with the new Olo'eyktan by your side. What a joke. You had not been trained for this role, and your mate to be did not love you. You tried to play the part as well as you could, standing strong next to Tsu’tey and taking care of him when he had been wounded in battle.

It took a while for you to recover from your grief and to adjust to having Tsu’tey by your side, but day by day you felt more like yourself. You could laugh again, chatting with Neytiri as you weaved a basket. She told you all about the simple pleasures of having a mate, about the love she and Jake felt for one another. You smiled and nodded as you listened to her, glad to see your sister finally happy.

“Are you happy with Tsu’tey?” she asked you, and you did not know what to answer.

Tsu’tey was a good and strong man. He treated you with respect, slept near you every night and expressed his affections for you in public. He did his duty. And that was exactly why you couldn’t say yes. Perhaps it was too much to ask, but you too wanted a mate who acted out of love and passion, and not out of obligation.

—

You laid restless, tossing and turning in your tent, yearning to see the night sky. Even after months had passed you still had to grow used to your new home, more hidden away than before. When you turned over you saw Tsu’tey sleeping peacefully about two feet away from you, his normally tense face appearing so relaxed now. You wondered how much longer it would take before he would start coming home late, smelling of another. Neither of you had initiated mating, and you feared he would get tired of waiting just like he had with Neytiri. You just couldn’t do it. You couldn’t be the one to force him into tying himself to you, and you assumed he had lost his bit of interest in you a time long ago.

Sick of your own thoughts, you quietly got up, grabbing your gear to fly out on your Ikran.

The cold breeze that hit you when you stepped outside your tent felt freeing, a sigh leaving your body as you breathed it in. You only got a few steps away from your home before you heard a voice behind you.

“What are you doing?”

Tsu’tey strode up to you with a frown on his face. When he was close enough you noticed the light flare of his nostrils as he smelled you, apparently too fearing you would seek your pleasures somewhere else.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I am going out to fly, I cannot sleep.”

His answer was instant. “I will join you.”

You are certain your displeasure showed on your face, wishing to be alone, but he ignored it. He started walking towards the tree where the Ikrans slept without even looking to see if you were following, knowing that you wouldn’t turn back.

The two of you were checking the saddle straps on your Ikrans when Tsu’tey suddenly spoke.

“Why are you no longer pleased to see me?”

Your eyes went wide as you looked his way, his gaze not meeting yours.

“You used to be happy when I would come over. You would laugh with me, tease me, but now you are cold,” he continued.

His words made your heart sink. You had done your duty just as he did, you did not mean to be cold.

“Tsu’tey…” you started, turning your face away so as to not have to see his pained one. “I apologize if I was cold. I have stood by you and have done what is required, just as you. I would not dare ask more of you.”

Tsu’tey lightly shook his head. Your words confused him. He had stuck to his duty and nothing more because he would not force you to mate with him. With Neytiri he had already acted too brazen, had laid his claim over her too firmly and had been humiliated because of it at the end. He was not going to be the Olo'eyktan who’s mate resented him.

“If you do not wish to be with me, you may leave and choose someone else,” he told you stiffly, catching you by complete surprise.

Your Ikran shrieked above your head, impatient to fly, but you calmed it with your hand, once again turning your attention to Tsu’tey. “I will not. You are my Olo'eyktan, and I will be your Tsahìk.”

His chest visibly rose and fell as he breathed in deeply, the beads in his hair swinging as he turned around to face you. You looked sad, your ears pointed down and brow creased in worry. It was how you looked whenever something around your mating came up. Even when he held you close to him before the clan, he would notice your ears slightly droop, the smile on your face wavering.

“I already had two sisters suffer by being by my side,” he said with a strained voice. “I will not have another.”

Your hand dropped from your Ikran as you shook your head. “That is not fair, Tsu’tey. Neytiri was destined for someone else, and Sylwanin… she loved you. She was happy in the time you had together.”

Tsu’tey visibly cringed at the mention of your oldest sister’s name. He had not sought her out at the tree of souls for many moons now, the last time being to seek her blessing to be with you. Her spirit had assured him that you carried love in your heart, that you would be happy. He prayed to see that be true every day.

“I-“ you bit at the inside of your cheek and forced the words to come out. “I know you loved her too, and I know you will never carry that same love for me.” Speaking your thoughts out loud hurt way more than you had imagined, feeling pinpricks of tears sting at your eyes. “I am sorry if I have been unconsciously punishing you for that. I am trying to make my peace with it.”

Tsu’tey was absolutely taken aback by your words. He stumbled towards you and grabbed onto your shoulders. His expression carried pain and regret, but also a spark of relief.

“Who said I could not love you?” he questioned.

You looked from his hands on your skin back to his face, the shock of his implication taking your breath away. “I- I had assumed so because you never seemed interested in me. Until a few moons ago your future had not been with me.” You put your hands over his. “You have had your future planned out since we were children. I thought you would be bothered by me disturbing it.”

“Disturbing it,” he scoffed and looked at you as if you had gone mad. “You skxawng! My eyes had drifted to you long before they should have. You do not disturb my future. You are my future.”

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him in disbelief. Even your Ikrans seemed to go quiet, the wind whistling past you the only sound around.

“Why… why did you never tell me?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.

His fingers stroked over your shoulders as he exhaled. “It was not appropriate at first, and then… Wiya, I had hoped to tell you now we were to be mated, but your feelings had seemingly shifted.”

You unconsciously shook your head at his words. How you regretted these months of holding back, of being too scared your heart would shatter to pieces.

You raised a hand to cup his face. “Oel ngati kameie, Tsu’tey. Nga yawne lu oer.”

A smile graced his face and he pressed his forehead against yours, repeating the words you had both been dreading. It felt like a weight lifted off of your shoulders, and before you knew it, hot tears started streaming down your face. All of the pain and pressure that had built up the past year seemed to flow out of you, and Tsu’tey held you as you wept. His lips pressed against yours so gently as he wrapped one arm around your waist, the other stroking your hair in a suiting manner.

“I got you, my mate,” he spoke softly as he held you. “We are no longer alone. I am with you, till the end of my days.”

#tsu’tey x reader #tsu’tey #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar #atwow x reader #na'vi x reader

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turvi · 1 year

Text

Best Mistake

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader(ex)

Y/n notices how he laughs, it's so different. She never saw him laugh like that with her. In fact, she never even saw him smile brightly at her. Sirius Black was an enigma, a dream. It was an honor if he even decided to look your way so Y/n was ecstatic with just the mere fact that she is dating him.

She will sit in the corner and watch him talk to the girls with such adoration and seduction it broke her heart that he didn't even give her the time of his life. She wondered if he really loved her when he didn't even look into her eyes like they held all the universe's answers.

She was sitting on the ground with the Marauders zoned out looking in the distance when Lily suddenly asked Sirius "what is Y/n's eye color".

There was an awkward silence as they all looked at Sirius to reply but not Y/n. She looked into the distance when Lily asked her the color of Sirius' eyes. Without hesitation she replied grey. Everyone was shocked including Sirius. No one knew how many times she looked into those same grey eyes trying to find love.

She ignored Sirius' stare and pretended like her heart was not shattering right now. Only if he knew how she felt. Only if he would not play with her emotions. Y/n can only wish right now as Sirius holds her hand. She doesn't know how to feel she tries to calm her beating heart knowing this is temporary.

Lo and behold the next time she saw Sirius he was flirting with another girl. She would not have paid attention to it but he made a promise to be a better boyfriend only to break that promise again.

She sighed and went towards the black lake. She sat against a tree branch letting her tears fall not knowing a pair of onyx eyes were looking at her.

When she realized she turned around to see Severus staring at her. When he realized he has been caught he looked down at the ground. He kept looking at the ground when a pair of shoes came into view.

He looked up to see Y/n standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. Her eyes were puffy from crying. "Why are you staring?"

"You were in my spot. That is my crying spot."

She sighed. She knew how her boyfriend and his best friend bullied him a lot and even after trying to talk to Sirius to stop it he only increased the bullying.

She patted the empty spot beside her "let's cry together then"

Severus sighed and sat down. He didn't want to admit that he had always loved her but he strayed away knowing that she is Sirius' girlfriend.

"Let me guess Sirius made you cry?"

She scoffed at the way he spoke and sassed "yes Severus he made me cry like always and I bet he doesn't even notice I am not there with him right now"

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Severus spoke up again "why are you still with him when he treats you like this?"

She sighed "because I know no one will love me and even if he gives me a bit of attention that is enough for me. I am scared if I leave him I will lose that bit of attention I get, and I know I sound dumb but it is true". Tears brimmed her eyes as she let out a shaky breath.

Severus lifted her face so he could look into her eyes. "Y/n it does not sound dumb." He softly caressed her cheek, he knew what he was doing was wrong but it is not his fault Sirius didn't know how to treat his girlfriend right, Severus was going to do a better job at that. "Give me a chance, I know you are heartbroken but I am willing to wait for you, to show you how much love you deserve".

She quickly blinked her eyes "what?"

He gently held her face now in his hands "you don't have to love me back. Just let me show you what you deserve and if you want to go to Sirius after that I won't stop"

She gulped as she saw his pupils dilate and nodded. Severus whispered in her ear huskily "use your words"

Her breath hitched "y-yes I am willing to give you chance"

He smirked "good girl". He pinned her against the tree and kissed her like he owns her heart. His desperate tongue met hers as she melted in his arms. She was a bit surprised as his hand was on the tree and the other on her waist. He kissed the sensitive spot on her neck lightly and looked at her waiting for her to stop him.

"Sev-you should take me on a date first"

He chuckled "were you waiting for me to make a move because it seems to me you already forgot your boyfriend"

She pulled his hair lightly earning a groan from him "you should not talk about my ex-boyfriend when you just tongue-kissed me"

He growled "Ex-boyfriend. I like the sound of it. I promise I won't let you down, sweets"

The next few days were an emotional rollercoaster for Sirius. First Y/n unceremoniously announced in front of his friends that she has had enough and wanted to break up.

He was confused about how easily she broke up with him. Usually, she was the one who was so scared of losing him so he decided to follow her.

He transformed into his animagus form and discreetly followed. His jaw dropped to the floor as he saw the scene in front of him.

Y/n wrapped her arms around Severus who was eager to kiss her and Y/n did not deny him. They sat down and Severus laid back against the tree as Y/n lay on his shoulder and chatted as he played with her hair. They looked at each other as if there is no one else in the world. The scene looked so intimate he just dropped his head and walked away with a broken heart and sorrowful soul.

It was then he realized what he had lost and there was nothing he could do about it.

A/N: I actually squealed at Severus' part so hopefully you like it too. REBLOG AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

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lanas-delight · 6 months

Text

invisible string

♫ rec: invisible string by taylor swift

✰ an enhypen scenario || fem!reader x sunghoon, feat. made up friends & the members

✰ description — you always believed in luck over fate—until you met him.

✰ warnings — some language, some angst, but mainly just teeth-rotting fluff

✰ notes — inspired by invisible string by taylor swift (yes i listen to taylor swift). anyways, enjoy!!

Luck was what you believed in—not fate. You would call it dumb luck, not “meant to be.” Your parents met by luck, a sweet story how one only met the other because they were lucky enough to miss their train and meet their soulmate while waiting for the next one. It was luck, and you were sure of it. Your parents always said that the saying about things only happen for a reason was wrong, that if you’re lucky, you’ll be just fine. You thought it wasn’t all that fair, but who were you to judge?

You made every decision with perfect judgment, never acted impulsively unless it was just to buy a snack instead of saving money, but you were careful, cautious so you wouldn’t have to use luck. You would just have to be patient.

You never dated, it was something that you didn’t think about much. Your friends were all dating, one was even engaged, and you were the maid of honor, but you didn’t have a date. You had no “dance partner,” she called it. Your best friend, the bride, then said your date could be the best man. You were skeptical, but to please her, you agreed.

You planned to meet him at the nearest diner, maybe food would calm your nerves. Though, you hadn’t seen what he looked like, you just knew his last name. Not his first, just his last. Not even the bride knew her future husband’s best friend at all. What were you to do? Sit alone with a sign that has his last name written in bold on it, hoping he’ll walk right over—like that isn’t crazy and stalker-like.

You were told he was “a bit of egotistical asshole,” which didn’t help your worries at all, but you were just desperate to be alone at your best friend’s wedding. It was stupid, and you felt stupid, but however this “cold-hearted player” guy (you were told a LOT of things about him except his name..) may be like, you were just hoping he wasn’t that way to you.

There, at the diner, you went in and waited, ordering a cup of tea to keep you company while you waited, and waited. It was to the point you sat there, reading a book tediously, about to give up. Your tea was just about gone and the waitress was bringing another cup to you.

“What are you reading?”

A voice rang out in front of you, one that sounded like honey, but was deep like a melancholic poem. Mist on a summer’s evening, a gentle breeze in the spring. You looked up, and met eyes with a tall, dark-haired boy with a lazy smile on his face, his teeth barely showing between his lips—it was quick to notice that he had fangs, not like a vampire, though. His skin wasn’t as pale as everyone else’s in the diner, he looked active and that he loved the outdoors. He had bigger hands, long fingers and red knuckles, maybe he did pottery or worked some construction before. He had on a loose, white long-sleeve shirt and black pants, like he had just left church. A lot of assumptions, but that’s what you did best. You were sure you’d be lucky enough to be right on most of them.

“Oh, uhm,” you placed your thumb in between the pages of the book, closing it to show him the cover, “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo,” you answered, “my friend suggested it to me.”

His face lights up a bit, and he gestures to the seat ahead of you. You nod after a moment, so he sits and smiles, “I just finished it the other week, how do you think of it so far?” You wondered if he was gay for a second, but you shrugged it off.

“I really like it,” you smiled, “I worried it wouldn’t be all that great, despite all of it’s overwhelming great reviews, but I really like it so far.”

He nodded, “It’s great, yeah,” he looks at the book, “What chapter are you on?”

“Three. I just started this morning,” you lightly rubbed your thumb on the paperback cover. You thinned your lips, “Did you sit here just to talk about the book?—Not that I have a problem with that,” you chuckled nervously.

He shrugged, “Yes and no,” he twiddled his fingers some on the table, “That, and well, I thought you were really pretty,”

Your eyebrows lifted a little, “You think I’m pretty?” He looked up at you, almost offended at first.

“‘Course I do,” he smiled, “Do you think you’re pretty?”

“You’re a flirt,” you ignored his question, scoffing, but he continued to smile. He had a nice smile.

“Only with pretty girls,”

“There’s plenty of those,”

“Well only you caught my eye,” he admired your face, “I’m not too good with flirting, but I’m flattered you see how I talk as flirting.”

You rolled your eyes, “How is that a compliment?”

He shrugged, “You think I have game,”

“Wow,” You laughed, “You’re confident,”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I’m just myself.” He reached his hand across the table, open for a hand shake, which you obliged.

Your eyes were stuck on him like glue, “I’m Y/N,” you say, and his eyes light up a little, like there was beauty to your name and it sang with harmony in his ears. “And you are?”

“Sunghoon,” he kept your hand in his for a second more, then he glanced around, “You wanna get out of here?”

But you halted, “Oh, I’m actually—” you checked the time on your phone, it had been well over an hour since you were supposed to meet that other guy so there was nothing better to do. “Yeah,” you nodded your head, “I’d like that.” And he smiled.

“You’re crazy,”

“Am I?” He was holding your hand, but that’s not what you were calling him crazy for. Instead, it was for how he was wanting to try this kind of rice a couple blocks away from the diner you two had met at, dragging you all the way there with his hand tied to yours. Experimental—you never liked to try new things, but for some reason, you felt at ease with him. Like the world was floating, yet you kept in control of it. It felt so normal, not like you had just met him 30 minutes ago.

“Yeah, I would think so,” you both stopped in front of the food stand, waiting in a short line. The stand looked familiar, you were sure you’ve seen it before somehow. “You made me walk three blocks just to get rice? I don’t—”

“Shh,” he shushed you, “You’ll understand why,” almost implying he’s tried this rice before, but once it was your turn, he ordered for you, paid, and sat down with you at the nearest bench. Shoulder to shoulder, he handed you chopsticks and you both shared the bowl of rice, “I need a full evaluation afterwards,” he says, covering his mouth, it was full of rice.

You took your first bite, humming, then nodding. “Oh my god,” you say, “this is amazing,”

“Right?” Sunghoon laughed, his eyes crinkling a little, “I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you took another bite, “thank you.”

“For . . . ?” He looked a little surprised, which confused you mostly so you repeated yourself.

“Thank you,” you say again, “for all of this.”

Sunghoon smiled. “Don’t thank me just yet,” he says, “It’s not the end.”

You furrowed your brows, “End of what?”

“Our first date,” he answers confidently, “I have somewhere else to take you next,”

But you were appalled, “First date? I never said yes to a date?”

“Do you not want this to be a date?” He takes another bite, “Hm?” He tilted his head some, your eyes meeting with his. They were a dark chocolate color, warm and deep, you could drown in them and be just fine never coming back up for air.

“Well, I didn’t say that,” you grinned, take another bite. He was gazing at you, lovestruck but he didn’t know he loved you, but he was sure he would. You were starting to think that way, too.

After the rice, he took you to this aquarium, paid for you and joked when he asked you to pay him back. You actually planned to, but knew he wouldn’t accept it. He was a gentleman, a kind one that had a smile to warm, you would be just fine on a freezing, winter day. You had never loved anyone before, but you were starting to think that maybe this could be the beginning. You’ve told him stories, he’s told you some. You had completely forgotten about that best man you were supposed to meet, but that didn’t matter anymore.

Because you had met him.

For the next few weeks, you and Sunghoon went on a good handful of dates, all around the city, alone and not a word spoken to anyone about them so it would be more intimate, only about you both and no one else. You were getting to know each other, not exactly official but not looking anywhere else either.

Everything felt so right. He would tell you about places you always went to, and you would do the same for him. It felt that that any of those times, you could’ve met him, like you were both parallel lines that finally joined together to form a heart.

You had told him before on one of the dates, how much you valued luck and chance, rather than what was meant to be or not to be. He was the opposite—he believed in soulmates and what the universe may give you. He had a good argument, but so did you, though it wasn’t a dealbreaker or anything. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend, but he referred to you as his girl often.

However, there was one date you would have to wait to have as the wedding was the following day and you were talking with your best friend, trying to calm her nerves for her big day. You hadn’t told her about him yet, but you were sad because he had other (pre-you) plans that next day so he couldn’t be your date either.

“You’ll do just fine, F/N,” you tell her reassuringly, “Jay’s not going to care if your hair’s not absolutely perfect.”

“You don’t know that!” She exclaims, sitting down on the couch across from you.

You stared, “Well do you know that?”

She covered her face, “No, but”

“F/N, he’s universally in love with you. There is nothing that can keep that man from marrying you tomorrow,” you tell her, though she still shakes with anxiety. She pushes her hair back a little as she leans back up. “Besides, you’ll look amazing no matter what. He’d marry you in a trash bag.”

She laughed, “God, you’re right. I don’t know why I’m stressing so much about this.” She pulls her hair back into a loose ponytail, “You sure you’re okay with no date tomorrow?”

You shrugged, “I guess I have to be. He never showed up at the diner so I guess I’ll just have to hook arms with the best man, ignore the elephant in the room, and then die alone.”

“You’re not going to die alone,” she tells you, “Maybe he forgot or something,”

“Didn’t you say he was a douche anyways? A player? Maybe I dodged a bullet,” you sat back in your chair.

“I know. But don’t worry, tomorrow will be just fine, yeah?” She smiles, but you click your tongue.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe I should take your job!”

“Oh whatever,” you sigh, “Everything will be just fine. Don’t you worry, okay?” And she nodded before both of you headed to bed, anticipating the next day where one of you will be married and the other, alone.

The next day, everyone was already starting to gather around, taking their seats. Your best friend always wanted a beach wedding, so there it was, an arch covered in vines and white roses at the end of an aisle between rows of white chairs. It was beautiful, little white rose pedals spread on the sand, leading up to where the groom stood.

You were in the dressing room with your best friend, already dressed as you helped her finish up getting ready. You had just sent a text to Sunghoon about your day, which he replied and said he hoped he could’ve been there, too. You were a bit sad, but you didn’t let it bother you all that much. It wasn’t your wedding day, after all.

Once it was time for the ceremony, you held your hands together in front of you nervously, waiting at the front of a line coming from the right, while the line coming the left was the groomsmen, where the best man was nowhere to be seen. You honestly hoped he wouldn’t show, just in case you wanted to beat his ass if you saw him, but nothing could have ever prepared you for the following moments. The flower girls, your best friend’s neices, got in front of you and the best man who had just appeared, but you paid no attention and stared forward, waiting for it all to start.

A light melody begins to echo with the wind from the piano. You reach your elbow out, waiting for the best man to hook his arm with yours, but familiarity struck once he did. You looked over, just as the flower girls started to go down the aisle, and you saw him. You saw Sunghoon, the previously labeled “cold-hearted player” that was so egotistical, you’d want to rip your hair out. He was the douchebag, and you couldn’t believe it.

“Sunghoon?” You whispered, just as both of you started to walk down the aisle together slowly. He looked over at you, then blinked a couple times.

“Y/N? You’re— You’re the maid of honor.” An obvious observation, but he was in shock, honestly.

“What’s your last name?”

“What?”

“Last name.”

“Park.”

Oh fuck.

“You’re the best man that stood me up.”

“Stood you up—” He scoffed in disbelief, “I met with you, didn’t I?”

You shook your head, “You didn’t tell me.”

Sunghoon knitted his brows together, “I didn’t know? And you didn’t tell me either,” he remarks, all of the conversation being in a whisper as you both made it down the aisle. At the end, you two parted ways and went to the opposite sides of the altar. The other groomsmen and bridemaids all follow suite and the ceremony begins with the bride walkong down the aisle, the light melody transitions into the wedding march as all rose from their seats and watched her approach her soon-to-be husband at the altar.

It was beautiful, each vow perfectly written and spoken to one another, and there, the couple were married and everyone cheered and clapped.

It was wonderful, but your mind was elsewhere. All you have come to know about Sunghoon, could have just as easily been a lie—egotistical, asshole, cold-hearted, player—was any of it true at all?

After the ceremony and into the reception, Sunghoon tried to talk to you a few times, but ultimately stopped when you ignored him every time and gave all of your attention to your busy friend, who was the happiest girl in the room.

You didn’t want to talk to Sunghoon. You didn’t want to look at him, or even think of him at all. You had no idea what to think of everything now. Was he really like that? Even his best friend said that stuff . . . You really hoped this was your happy ending, but maybe your luck just ran out.

It had been two weeks since the wedding. Your best friend and her new husband had gone off to their honeymoon, so you basically worked, went home and slept, then went back to work the next day. You made sure there was no chance you could see Sunghoon—ever. You didn’t hate him, moreso that you couldn’t, because there was something inside your heart that didn’t want you to hate him.

It was late, it was just a Thursday after work where you stuck overtime for the past four hours. It didn’t help that it had started raining heavily on your drive home. You pulled into the apartment’s parking lot, then searched frantically for a jacket or an umbrella, but found nothing to your surprise. You were normally prepared for stuff like this, but it had slipped your mind that you had taken in your umbrella the other day, forgot it on the dinner table, and your jacket was probably sitting in the dryer. Sunghoon would’ve reminded you to grab them. He always watches the weather. He’d know. You huffed and got out of your car quickly, trying to rush in before you got soaked, but just as you got out of the car and shut the door, there he was, standing there like some dramatic movie scene.

“What the hell are you doing?” You call out to him, “You’re going to get sick, you’re not even wearing a jacket!”

“You aren’t either!” He called back out to you, the rain growing harder and harder. “Y/N, listen to me okay? I—”

“No, no I don’t want to hear your excuses,”

“I don’t have excuses,” Sunghoon stated out, “I don’t have anything to say that would ever excuse my mistakes, but that’s the past. I’ve changed, and I don’t want to be that version of myself ever again.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re insane.”

He shockingly smiled, “Insane, crazy, stupid—you can call me whatever you want, Y/N, but I’m never going to stop feeling the way I do about you.” A strong declaration, but that wasn’t as surprising as the words he spoke to you then.

“How—” you hitched your breath as you shook your head, “How am I supposed to believe that all the things they said aren’t true? That you were ‘such a player that you couldn’t find it in your cold heart to even care that you hurt them?’ How can I be sure you won’t do the same for me?”

Sunghoon stared into your eyes, distant but still warm. His heart couldn’t have ever been cold. None of it made any sense. God, the things your best friend and her husband keep running around your mind like a racecar track.

“Because I won’t. I haven’t done any of that in years. In high school, and college, I was an asshole and was convinced I was supposed to be the bad boy everyone’s scared of. I let them be scared of me because I thought no one could ever love me, and when someone did, I ran.” Sunghoon stepped towards you on the pavement, his hair wet and his clothes soaked. His face was flushed with pink, a gentleness in his eyes that only you could ever recognize. It was him. “You don’t have to forgive me, but I will do everything in my power to make up for it all.”

“Sunghoon . . .” You tried not to cry, “Our luck has run out,” you told him, but he wouldn’t hear you. He stepped even closer, standing right before you now, close enough to feel some rain droplets bounce off of him and onto you.

“No, there’s no luck, there’s no fate,” he tells you firmly, “All I know is that I’m falling in love with you, Y/N, and I’m willing to do anything for you.”

You felt the same way he did. Of course you did. There was no part of you that could ever hate him. You wanted him, and absolutely no one else. You didn’t care if you both died tomorrow, as long as you had him, you were just fine. You were more than fine. You were perfect, because of him.

You gave him a soft smile, “I’m falling in love with you, too.”

And he gave you this . . . smile.

It was that type of smile that warms your heart and eases your worries. it was one that you could never forget, one that will save you from your darkest nights, one that can heal your wounds and pain with just a glance. Your heart was beating so fast that you couldn't even get a decent breath. Your head was full of thoughts burning with anticipation as he slowly leaned in closer to you. Heat rose from your stomach to your chest and your heart definitely skipped a beat as you felt his breath on your cheeks. You watched his eyes flutter as he started to close in. That was it — at that very moment his lips brushed over yours like a wave of warmth and all of your body reacted to him instinctively. You raised your hands to his face, and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, but it was gentle, passionate, full of love. Time seemed to have just come to a great pause as we kissed. The taste of his lips silenced your thoughts.

The rain was so cold against your skin, but it didn’t bother you one bit. It didn’t seem to bother him much either. His hands went limp on your waist, but you lowered your hand and took one of his into your own, holding him close to you as your lips moved against each other. His other hand lightly pulled onto your shirt, but you tilted your head slowly and touched your lips to his for a second time, very carefully and gently as if you didn't want to break him with a single touch. The kisses began to slow after a short time, becoming tender and infinitely more. It was like you were growing more intimate. It was so easy to get lost in him, lost in his connection between the both of you.

Before, on those dates or whatever they were, you both were just friends. Friends who stared at each other a second too long. But as of this very moment, with your lips kissing his, he was no longer just your friend. Instead, he was now a lover. Your lover. He was your soulmate, as you were his.

You pulled away and stared into his eyes, and he just smiled at you, “Come on,” he whispered to you, “let’s get out of this rain,” and as you giggled, you both headed inside and out of the rain together.

The wedding was set for the spring. It had been a couple years since your best friend’s wedding and the whole declaration-turned-kiss-in-the-rain moment, and you couldn’t be happier. You had (mostly) everything finished for the wedding, even though it was in a couple months and you had plenty of time to add or change stuff.

Sunghoon helped as much as he could, though he knew how much you wanted to plan it so he would only offer his opinion when you asked. It was your day, he would say, but you would always tell him it was his day, too.

You still believed in luck, and he still believed in fate. You felt you were lucky to meet him, and he felt that it was always meant to happen anyways. You didn’t agree out loud, but you knew he was right (you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right). Because whether it was luck or fate, it was always him. It was always him you were going to love forever. And with that, you knew.

You were going to be just fine.

—————————————————————————

a/n — OKAY IM DONE W WEDDING STUFF the next fic will be something wayyyy different (itll probably be angst lolz) but NOT ABT A WEDDING. anyways, i hope u all enjoyed <3333

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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months

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I promised, promised myself that I wouldn’t read the Roman König x Fee fic until it was completed because I knew i would get absolutely drawn in, wrapped up in your exquisite prose, then get addicted and suffer from withdrawals. Unneeded to say I broke said promise and welp here I am 🤡

Thing that surprised me was how quickly he endeared himself to me? A cock swinging village massacring brute that I was FULLY prepared to hate had me sighing by then end of chapter 3 with the “you care about my head?” ✋😩 YES I worry for your stupid head you adorable monster.

It’s uncanny how similarly Fee and I felt as the plot progressed. I know this is a self insert and though I made an OC for fee, you were able to capture the feeling of hate to curiousity to distrust to budding emotions on the readers side so beautifully and in only three chapters?? What sorcery is this?? I could go on and on about how I’m just… in awe of your writing skills.

It’s the small things too. The effort he went through to understand Fee, learning her language like he desperately wants to be a part of her. It’s just his delight in the simple things like having a woman and buying her pretty things. I AM GOING TO GNAW OFF MY ARM THIS IS SO GOOD!! I don’t know if you’ve watched HBOs Rome, but they remind me of Pullo and Eirene so much! Like you can’t tell me König doesn’t fit that goofy brawdy soldier who’s only hobbies are drinking and fucking and fighting to a T!

Then it got me thinking…. If König is Pullo then Simon is Vorenus. He has that straight laced, no bs aura about him. Now I’m imagining them both in this universe and please excuse me while I melt in a puddle 🫠

This is perhaps the best piece of fiction I’ve read in a while. I can’t wait for part 4, I have no doubt it will be wonderful as usual. Please accept my maladaptive daydream interpretation of Fee (first she was supposed to be a wood nymph, then the earth goddess then a fairy queen?? I’m not sure anymore. There was so much great imagery couldn’t settle on one. Your honor, we lost the plot.)

Oh my goodness OH MY GOODNESS ❤️❤️❤️

You shower me with praise and I’m over here like aaahh... for me? 🥺❤️

And yes I’ve watched Rome like four times at least! Every time I watch it just gets better, the producers and crew really outdid themselves with all the details in that series. I consider it one of the best TV shows ever made and excuse me but you opened a Pandora’s box here, I'm just so pleased you brought this up...

It took so much time for Pullo to grow on me, I was so frustrated with his character but when he killed Eirene’s man because he was so in love with her and was just like: “Oh there's something in the way of our love? Oh well. *there*, solved.” Gosh I was IN LOVE. I’m sorry, I’m a horrible person, but I fell in love with Pullo right that second. And yeah König is kinda like Pullo in that sense! Eirene wails at the corpse of her ex-lover and Pullo is just like “Um, yeah nasty business but… why are you crying? Oh, oh yeah, oops. But hey, we could be together? Oh, you don’t want me? Damn. How come?” I wanted to shake and kiss him for being so dumb and adorable.

And Ghost is Vorenus YES, you get it 100 %! And the tragic love story of Vorenus & Niobe, oh god, took me about a month to get over it. And Vorenus being under the protection of Mars first and then literally becoming Pluto, the Lord of the Underworld… The mythology nerd in me is swooning over here. The only thing about Vorenus that's slightly König coded to me was when Pullo had to explain to him what a clitoris is, and Vorenus is like “How do you know this about my wife?!?!” and almost kills him :D That’s so so Roman!König.

But AHHH let me squeal about your maladaptive daydream adaption next: she’s the most gorgeous Fee ever, so lovely and feminine and yet, strong and possessing that earthly power in her. I love the color of her dress too!! There’s a lot of earth & water elements linked to Fee so that color (green to turquoise?) is the most perfect combination of earth and sea, while König is more like fire & air, coming from the mountains and slow to anger but when the fire rises, no one is safe...

This was so lovely, thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story 🩷💋

#answered

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Text

Chapter 5: The Broken Machine

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @welcometostayingawake (she's the real MVP)

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary:

Steven and you need to find more ways to be alone. Thankfully he has some ideas.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu, talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded.

Word Count: 4.6k

Your mind had been buzzing since Wednesday night. It was now Monday morning, and you’d spent the weekend tossing and turning through sleepless nights and struggling to get your work done. Somehow you managed though, despite your mind being almost completely preoccupied with the thought of Steven’s lips on yours.

Nearly every night you’d found yourself waiting for Layla to fall asleep so you could close your eyes and touch yourself to the thought of Steven’s glossy lips after he kissed you. Seeing the way he became completely undone over you was constantly running through your head.

While you’d spent the weekend with your mind in the clouds, Steven spent his fighting the voices in his head. He’d been successful at shutting them out, despite Marc’s desperate attempts at taking over. Steven’s affections for you and his determination to make the other two honor their promise kept him stronger than either Marc or Jake realized he could be.

When he wasn’t arguing with them, he was grabbing the curtain rod while the water ran over his back in the shower and jerking himself thoughts of you. If it wasn’t in the shower, it was in his bed with a towel handy. Steven wasn’t a wholly sexual man, he appreciated the mind more than the body, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t completely entranced by the thought of taking you on his desk.

He knew he was going to see you today, but he didn’t realize it would be so soon. You were at Moonbean Coffee, back facing him, getting your drink. He didn’t even hesitate to walk inside. When you turned around to face him, it took his breath away.

“Steven.” You said softly. “Hi.”

He had that dumb smile on his face that you couldn’t get enough of. Dopey with hooded eyes that seemed to devour every inch of you. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Hi…I, uh, remembered my wallet today!” He said proudly.

You chuckled, “that’s good. I’m on a college budget after all.” You grabbed your coffee from T and thanked her.

Steven walked up and ordered his drink as you waited. Still nothing wrong with walking to class alongside your professor.

“Did you see about that art gallery? On the poster there?” Steven asked, pointing at the wall behind you.

You looked at it wistfully and sighed. “Yeah I saw it. Like I said, college budget, can’t exactly afford to go do a lot of extra things like that. Would’ve loved to go though. Oh well.”

His smile faltered and he cleared his throat, “yeah, I can understand that.”

Steven had nearly forgotten what it was like to be a college student. He knew all too well the feeling of indigestion that came with eating ramen for lunch several days in a row in order to save a little cash. He felt bad for even bringing it up, realizing how insensitive it was.

Steven picked up his beverage when it was handed to him, and the two of you made your way outside. Neither of you said a word, you felt too nervous to ask him about Wednesday night, afraid that he might shush you or tell you never to speak of it again. The thought of him rejecting you was gut wrenching.

“Did you finish the paper for class?” He asked, fortunately breaking the awkward silence with something other than the talk of your not relationship.

“Yeah I did, I…Oh shit!” You stopped walking and looked over at him pleadingly. “I forgot to print it. I’ll be a couple minutes late, I guess. I’ll run to the library and get it now.”

He smiled affectionately toward you. He liked it when you looked a little flustered.

“That’s alright, love, just get in as quick as you can, yeah?”

You nodded, “yeah, ‘course.”

His eyes were stuck on yours, they trailed down to look at your lips for a second before you heard someone walking down the sidewalk.

“Dr. Grant!” They shouted. It was another student.

He sucked in a breath and looked over at them and then back to you.

“Go get that printed and I’ll see you in class.” He patted your shoulder.

You felt Steven’s phantom hand on your shoulder for your entire walk to the library. He had you in a daze, unable to think about much else other than his very attractive, though disheveled, appearance.

You pulled out your laptop at your regular table in the corner of the library and got your document opened. It was quiet there, only one staff member and a couple students scattered around. You were genuinely relieved not to see the librarian that Steven had apparently stood up. You felt a little bad for her, but that quickly faded when you remembered why he stood her up.

You set your paper to print and went into the printer room. The machine wasn’t working. Of course it wasn’t working. You knew you should’ve gotten up earlier to make sure you printed it on time, but the sleepless nights thanks to Steven wandering through your mind day and night made it hard to get up on time. You started pushing buttons on the machine when you felt someone step in behind you, standing just a little too close judging by the body heat.

“I think…if you push that button there.” Steven’s voice was closer than you thought as he reached around the left side of you and pressed a green button on the machine. The printer hummed and started right away.

A daring hand touched your right hip. You felt your body tense. He leaned forward, the stubble of his chin touched your soft cheek. You spun around and grabbed the printer behind you for support. Steven’s eyes were bouncing between yours rapidly, his breathing coming out heavy. You tucked the stray curl that fell in front of his face back, Steven humming quietly in response.

Steven was anything but rough, though when it came to things like this, he had a tendency to get carried away. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you against him closer, squeezing tightly. Before you knew it, his mouth melted into yours with a desperation, a need that he couldn’t rightly fulfill there in the printer room of the library. You lost your balance and backed up into the printer, forcing the printing to cease with a loud unhappy sound.

Steven stopped, backing up and looking you up and down. He wiped the spit from his lips and then shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. You wondered if that was a way for him to keep his hands from betraying him even more. You turned around thoroughly flustered and grabbed your papers from the machine.

“Shit.” You muttered, rifling through them. “It only printed a few of the pages.”

The machine had an error message on the screen indicating a jam. Groaning, you pressed your palm to your forehead. Steven placed a comforting hand on your back.

“Let me see what you've got, love. Why don’t you get the rest of it to me later, yeah? I’m sort of to blame.” He let out a soft chuckle and gave you that smile that made your body melt instantly.

“You can’t treat me differently than you treat the other students.” You said under your breath, “that’s not right.”

“If one of my students came to me and told me they’d had trouble printing, I’d let them have a little extra time. I want to be one of those cool professors, you know? The ones all the students like?” He walked out of the room and sighed.

“So far, I’d say you’ve made a good impression.”

With that cheeky statement, and a skull full of nothing but air, you walked over to the table and collected your belongings before following Steven back to the classroom. He didn’t have to wear those tight pants, did he? Hugging the curves of his ass so nicely. You still couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. He gave you a sly smirk as he held the door open for you.

Class was difficult to get through, to say the least. Steven was managing to keep his eyes averted from yours, choosing to focus his gaze on other students. He knew that looking at you would turn his insides into mush, but you had no choice but to watch him and try to absorb his teachings. As he talked your eyes were fixated on his lips, staring intently and trying not to imagine him touching you in all the most depraved ways imaginable.

As class ended, you were trying to leave with the other students so you didn’t look suspicious, but Steven called your name, stopping you just before you reached the door. You turned to face him. He stood up and took his glasses off, placing them on the desk and waited for everyone to leave before speaking.

“Erm, I was thinking that it might be good to move the tutoring sessions to my office instead of…here.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You think it…” you furrowed your brow as you trailed off in thought. Moving the tutoring to his office would be anything but helpful. “Steven, I don’t know if that will really be a good idea, do you? How will I get anything done with…”

“With what?” He stepped forward, your breath caught in your throat.

Did he even know the effect he had on you?

“I’ll make sure we get studying done, I just think …might be nice to have some one-on-one teaching. Less chance of interruptions.” He gulped, “it’s for your benefit.”

Steven wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, himself or you. You were standing there with your eyes wide, biting your bottom lip. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you two were going to be getting any actual work done.

“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll be there.” You gave him a smirk before leaving for your next class.

That night you hardly slept again. Your mind was wandering, thinking about Steven pinning you against the printer in the library. Steven was always having trouble sleeping, even before the voices in his head were relentless, but now he was finding it even harder. He was doing it though, he was keeping them away, he wasn’t going to let them interfere with his life anymore, especially now that he’d found you.

Tuesday was tough to get through. You were staring at the clock as Professor Harrow’s class concluded and he dismissed you all.

“There will be a quiz on chapter two of your reading assignment so please make sure to study!” He called to the class as you walked out to the hall with Cameron at your side.

“Do you have another class right now?” Cameron asked, running a hand through his hair.

“No, I was probably gonna just work on a reading assignment for my poetry class, why?” You saw him look from the library and back to you.

“I suck at quizzing and wasn’t sure if you wanted to help me? You always do great with them.” He looked at you with a pair of pleading eyes that made it hard to say no.

Cameron was always so nice to you, and he was genuine. He always helped you with your other classes, and the classes you’d had together in the past, the least you could do was help him with this.

“Sure, let’s go to the library.”

The two of you found a spot near the entrance. You managed to keep yourself from scowling at the librarian that Steven had asked out the other day. You didn’t have any real reason to dislike her, but the thought that he almost went on a date with her brought a little pang of jealousy to your chest.

You and Cameron got to work quickly, and he turned out to be better than he claimed. Professor Harrow’s quizzes weren’t usually very hard as long as you read the chapter he gave you and absorbed the material. It was a creative writing class, and the book was exploring the different ways to express emotions in writing. The big message was “showing” instead of “telling” the reader, which was easier said than done.

You looked up at one point and couldn’t help noticing Steven walking into the library. Your breath caught in your throat, as it often did when he was in the room. Trying to focus on what Cameron was saying became impossible while you watched your history professor make his way to the check out desk. The woman he’d asked out was at the counter. They spoke quietly, but you could make out their conversation.

“I’m sorry for what happened the other night. I should’ve texted you but now’s not a good time f’me. You seem lovely though, so I wanted to apologize for that.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, a sign that you learned meant he was nervous.

“I don’t really care.” She said bluntly. “I took a chance on you because you seemed different than the other losers I’ve dated, but you’re not so…yeah. That’s why I always keep my expectations low.”

“Oh my God, look at this.” Cameron pointed to a passage in the book.

It wasn’t as funny to you as it was to Cameron, but his laughter was contagious.

Steven’s eyes found you when he looked over to his right and saw you sitting with Cameron. You were looking away from him, smiling and reading over something with the other student. While he knew that was good, you talking to someone your own age, it bothered him. It bothered him even more when something the boy said made you giggle. It made him wonder if there was something really wrong with him, feeling this way about someone like you. Everything about it was wrong.

You were so full of life, so curious and kind. There wasn’t anything Steven could think of that he would desire more in a woman. The age difference didn’t matter to him, neither did the fact that you were his student. He just wanted to be around you, to learn about the things you liked, your dreams and goals. He felt himself falling deeper and deeper into this infatuation with you the longer he stared.

Your eyes turned up and met with Steven’s.

“Unless you need something else, then we don’t need to talk.” Jane said to him, breaking his train of thought.

“Yeah, sure, I just wanted to make sure I didn’t make things even more awkward.” Steven chuckled.

“Well, you failed so…”

Steven didn’t actually come into the library to apologize to Jane, he had seen you head here from the hall and wanted the chance to see you. It was when he saw Jane behind the desk that he decided he should try to at least clear the air, especially since they were both working in the same building. Really, it was Marc’s fault, he never should’ve pushed Steven to date the poor girl in the first place.

“Right, well. I’ll see you around I guess.”

Steven looked at you one more time on his way out the door before turning the corner and disappearing.

You and Cameron wrapped up your studying before your next class, where you found yourself plagued with more thoughts around Steven. Your thoughts weren’t purely sexual, though those ideas did cross your mind. You wondered what he liked to do on the weekends though, and what kind of music he listened to. He was clearly a worldly man, so you were sure he had a good list of books he enjoyed and stories to tell. Everything about him captivated you, and you wanted to know everything.

When it was finally Wednesday night, after both you and Steven had spent his entire class earlier that day trying desperately not to look at each other, you found yourself standing outside of his office door, knocking on it with a trembling hand.

“Yeah! Just a minute!” You heard him yell out.

After some banging around and several curses, Steven opened the door. He was breathing heavily and giving you that goofy smile that drove you crazy.

“Are you alright?” You asked, chuckling.

“Yeah, better now, just banged my knee on the desk s’all.” He ushered you in the room before closing the door.

You walked over to the chair on the opposite side of his desk and stood there awkwardly. You weren’t sure how to navigate this, now that you were both being more open about your feelings. Did you walk over and just makeout with him? Did he even want to makeout with you? Was this just going to be a normal tutoring session? You decided it was probably best to wait and see what he did.

Steven’s mind was wandering, too, though, just as confused as you were. He wanted nothing more than to pick you up and kiss you breathless all evening, but he also knew that wouldn’t be the most productive thing. You’d worn such a short little skirt, too, and he’d been eyeing you in it all day. You put your bag on the chair as he walked up to you, not close enough to touch, but he was slowly inching closer, clearly unsure.

“So, Steven, now that we’re in your office…” you gulped.

He walked another step closer, “yeah, I thought you could benefit from some…one-on-one tutorin’.”

Another step.

“Are you going to teach me? I don’t know a lot.” You admitted. You were certain that you weren’t talking about history anymore, but wondered if Steven was catching the hints you were handing him on a silver platter.

He took one more step, now standing close enough to reach forward and kiss you if he wanted to.

“Are we…” He leaned in close, “are we still talking about history lessons or…”

You grabbed Steven by the shirt and pulled him in, unable to resist the feeling of his soft lips against yours any longer. He groaned, grabbing your hips and breathing you in with every kiss. You were finally alone, finally able to taste him again, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. Both of your hands were grabbing the back of his head, keeping him close, a small part of you afraid that he was going to pull away from you too soon again.

He didn’t though. Steven wanted to feel as much of you as you would let him. He pushed you back into the desk, grinding into you a little when he did. You felt his erection plainly through his pants, brushing up against your leg gently. You scooted up with his help, various office supplies fell off the desk all around you.

“I’m sorry.” You said breathlessly, working on taking off your jacket.

“Don’t care about that stuff.” Steven muttered while he lazily kissed down your neck.

You finally got your coat off and Steven wasted no time exploring your waist with his large hands. He snuck one of them under your shirt but before going further, he stopped and looked into your eyes.

“Please tell me if you get uncomfortable, alright? We can stop any time, just say something, please.”

You nodded breathlessly before grabbing his curly head and going in for more passionate and sloppy kisses. He was moaning, more than you were, desperate and needy. You’d never been with someone like that, someone who wanted you so badly and so openly. His hand reached up and tucked under the cup of your bra, brushing over the smooth skin of your breast. He brought his lips back to your neck, lapping his tongue over the skin there gently.

“Steven, I want you to touch me…please.” You begged, putting a hand on his arm and slowly pushing it down between your legs.

He looked at you in awe before tucking his hand under your skirt and pressing it against your panties. Steven let out a shuddering sigh upon feeling the soaking wet fabric. You leaned your hips forward into his touch.

“Oh, love, is that…is that all f’me?” He looked down at his arm and then back up at you again.

You bit your lip, “y-yeah, been thinking about you so much. Please, help me.”

He slid his fingers up and worked them in between the waistband of your underwear. The moment his middle finger touched your clit, you gasped. Steven covered your sweet little whimpers with his mouth. When he started swirling his finger around in your juices, you whined even more.

You wanted to feel him. You had to. You were desperate to know what his cock felt like in your hand, how it looked. Steven kept rubbing his finger over your clit while you pulled at his shirt. You were trying to undo the buttons, but they were giving you trouble.

“Just rip it, just take it off, don’t care.” He said, watching you pop the buttons off with a harsh pull.

He brought his chest to yours again, laying you back on the desk while he kept moving his fingers over your soaked folds. You helped him get your panties off so he could get to you easier.

“Wanna hold your cock in my hand, please Steven.” You said softly, pulling at his pants.

He stepped back and undid his pants, pulling them down around his thighs along with his boxer-briefs.

“Oh. Oh wow.” Your eyes grew wide at the sight.

“What?” Steven looked down at his thick cock and then back up at you. “S’not good? Something wrong?”

“N-no I just…it’s huge.” Your jaw was hanging open until Steven let out a self satisfied chuckle and came back over to you.

He replaced his fingers over your clit, drawing circles around it, teasing you like mad. The feeling of having him so close was intoxicating and you almost couldn’t believe it was really happening. You reached a hand down grabbing his cock firmly in your hand. Steven’s body trembled at your touch. It was so thick you couldn’t wrap your whole hand around it. He bucked his hips forward, forcing your hand down to the base.

Steven went back in to cover your lips in his before slipping a finger into your slick channel. You hummed into his mouth, squeezing his hair a little harder and tightening your grip around his cock. You moved your hand up and down in a slow jerking motion, not sure if you were doing it right, but he seemed to like it.

That’s the moment that Steven realized that when you said you didn’t know a lot, it’s because you hadn’t done a lot. His finger was thick, and your cunt was tight. He didn’t dare to try for another. He slid his one finger back and forth, running it along your soft walls, drawing whimpering moans from your lips. He separated his face from yours and looked at you.

“You’ve never…you’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked breathlessly.

You shook your head, “I mean, I’ve done some stuff before but I’ve never, like, gone all the way with someone.”

As if he needed another thing to add to his already guilty conscience. He couldn’t hear Marc, and hoped that Marc wasn’t silently listening in because he knew he’d get a headful later if he was.

“Don’t you worry about anything other than this, yeah? I want you to feel good, feel ready. What you’re doing there with your hand, that’s perfect, love, s’all I need.”

He seemed very insistent on kissing you as much as he could, as though your lips would run off if he didn’t hold them down with his own.

You held on to the back of his head for support while you kept sliding your hand over his shaft. A big part of you really wanted to give yourself over to him, to feel him inside of you, splitting you open, molding you to his size; the other part of you, the part with some common sense, knew that it was better to wait. You weren’t ready, that much was clear by the way you were trembling in his arms.

Steven churned his hips in rhythm with the finger that was fucking your hole. You felt so wet, so soft, he couldn’t believe you were so aroused by him. He knew you were into him, that much was apparent, but he didn’t know you were that attracted to him. The feeling excited him. He so desperately wanted to feel what your cunt would be like, clenching down over his girth while he filled you up, but he knew you’d tell him when you were ready. For now, your little hand wrapped around his cock, sliding deliciously in time with him felt more than enough.

“Oh, love, you feel that? Your pretty little…oh it’s just tightening so much over my finger, does that feel good, darling?”

You nodded, “yeah, yes it feels better than anything, Steven I don’t think I’m going to make it much longer.”

All those nights you’d spent finger fucking yourself while dreaming of this moment couldn’t compare to the real thing. You never thought Steven would feel this good touching you, his thick fingers feeling so much more intense than your own. In one more push forward, one more run against your walls, your arousal pooled in your core and sent you gasping, head tossed back while your mind went blank.

Steven thrust faster into your hand, which you’d stopped jerking at that point, unable to continue moving your body at all. You felt the spurts of cum as they hit you, some on your inner thighs and some even landed on the floor. Steven sounded beautiful when he was coming, and his face had never looked so at peace as it did in that moment.

He leaned in and kissed you again, keeping his lips there for a while before pulling you in for a long embrace.

“How was that? Did I do okay?” You asked as he pulled back from the hug.

His brow furrowed, “love…” he touched your cheek softly. “‘Course you did, you could just do nothin’ at all and I’d be just as thrilled.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this infatuation from him. He stepped back and started pulling up his pants. Sitting up, you reached between your thighs and took a glob of his cum that had landed there and held it on your fingers.

“Oh, let me grab you a-”

You stuck your fingers in your mouth to taste him before he could finish speaking, too curious to stop. It was salty and sweet, a delicious combination that you weren’t expecting. The texture was different, but not bothersome to you at all. Steven’s lips were slightly parted and he just stood there with his hand pressed against his chest.

“Is that, erm, what did you think?” He asked.

You weren’t sure if he was asking you about the taste of his cum, or if he was referring to his fingering you, but it was all better than you could’ve dreamed.

You smiled at him happily, “all of it was more than good, it was perfect.”

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TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed):

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275, @minigirl87, @ahookedheroespureheart, @ninebluehearts, @outmodead, @sleepyamaya, @pimosworld, @ababynova, @flordelalunas, @360iris, @momo-mochiball, @missdragon-1, @lunar-ghoulie, @liquorlaughslove, @kiwibaekie, @wordacadabra, @deezisnotreal, @onzayhe, @romanarose

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pumpk1n-writes · 11 months

Note

“Tell me about the dark places you hide” These are so good I’m just requesting part ten (I hop im not bothering you)

Oh you’re not bothering me at all!! I’d actually forgotten to post it and thought I had so thank you!!!!

Tell Me All About The Dark Places You Hide ~ Part Ten (final part)

➥ in which the reader figures out that their best friends are the infamous Woodsboro Killers and decides to help them rather than turn them in. {ft. Betrayal, murder, murder, blood, murder, more murder, more blood, did i mention murder?}

Part Nine || Word Count ~ 1.1k

Taglist ~ Taglist ~ @wasawattpadkid @katie-tibo @laurajmcmanus @sparklyphantom @minkyungseokie @misscaller06 @juda-the-simp @severuslovebot @asdorlia @billysbae @lilac-fangirl @bloody-delusion-expert @rubyroscoe1 @honeynicoole @ok-boke @thatonetallweirdo @ren-ni @fictionalcharacterslut @ennycutie @moneyoverl0v3 @lexasaurs634 @shady-the-simp @yourusername1 @zeldastag

“Oh, Billy, Billy, Billy. You really thought I cared about you? You really thought I give a damn what happens to you?” You cooed, the gun in your hand steady and firm despite how crazed your voice was. “I’m not who you think I am. I was never who you wanted me to be.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Sidney asked, although it came out as more of a sob. You stroked her cheek with the knife.

“I’ll deal with you later, darling.” You turned back towards the boys. “But she does ask a good question. My name was never Leers.”

Billy had a sinking feeling in his gut. “Who are you then?”

“Valerie.” You bowed deeply, sweeping your arms out to the sides. “Valerie Weary.”

Sidney sobbed again, and Billy’s heart dropped. “You fucking framed my father,” the gun moved to Stu’s forehead. “And you were all too happy to help. You sentenced him to life, then death.”

“Valerie, please,” Sidney wouldn’t stop crying. “I didn’t mean to—“

“And Sidney, darling, you fucking fell for it! You dumb bitch, you fell for the oldest trick in the book.”

“You knew all along didn’t you?” Billy asked. “You never had to figure it out.”

“Don’t interrupt me, baby boy,” you sneered, laughing when he blushed at your words. “But yes, there was no figuring out to be done, I knew since the moment Sidney’s mom was babysitting me and you forgot to check the closet.” You laughed, a high-pitched, maniacal, laugh. “You forgot to check the fucking closet. I saw everything.

“And Billy, baby, it was all too easy to gain your trust. All I had to do was kill my best friend and make you cum. That’s it!”

Billy flushed an even deeper red at that and backed away slightly.

“What? Billy?” Sidney’s sobs were getting on your nerves. Without looking, you shot her in the neck, laughing even harder when her blood stained the walls. She fell, the gargle of blood filling her lungs music to your ears

“Now for you boys,” you raised the gun towards them, stopping Billy’s retreat. “Billy, you never cared about Stu. You used him for your own wishes, never giving a damn about what he thought or how he felt.”

“Billy is that true?” You almost felt sorry for the desperation in his voice. Almost.

“I- No- What?” Billy was looking between the two of you with frantic eyes, the look of a wild animal.

“Don’t lie!” You sung, gesturing towards him with the knife.

“I would never! Why would I hurt Stu?”

“Because he was too much, he was never careful enough, he was always too eager, he was never good enough for you,” you suggested, filling in the blanks for him. The wounded expression on Stu’s face struck you through the heart. You might have been laying it on a little thick.

Billy was silent, confirming everything. Stu blinked rapidly, trying to dissolve tears. “I gave you everything, I gave up my life, I listened when you said killing Sid’s mom would help fix my anger. And this is what I get in return?” The playfulness was gone, and only betrayal, in its purest and rawest form, was left.

“Would you do the honors, baby?” You crooned, tossing the gun to Stu.

He glared coldly at who used to be his best friend. “Of course, dear.”

You tackled Billy to the ground, holding his arms in place and laying cheek to cheek. “Oh Billy, you really thought you’d win. You really thought you’d get away with this, kill me, and live happily ever after, didn’t you?”

The knife in your hand stroked his cheekbone, similar to what you’d done to Sidney mere minutes ago. “Once I told Stu the truth about you, he was only too willing to switch sides. Why do you think he wasn’t shocked at all when I killed Sidney? When I switched things up a bit?”

Stu grinned, his previous anger long since dissipated. “I just needed you to confirm everything. And by god you did.”

“It’s okay, Billy baby. We won’t hurt you too bad.”

“Lie!” Stu laughed maniacally, waving the gun in front of his face.

You smiled up at him. “Do whatever you need to, honey.”

Stu nodded and smiled back at you, firing the gun. The bullet lodged itself into Billy’s thigh, and he screamed out — “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Same thing that’s wrong with you, darling!” You giggled. “Watched a few movies, took a few notes, improved on them a bit.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“Aren’t we all?”

You heard police sirens and stood up, taking the gun from Stu and shooting Billy in the chest. “Here,” you said tightly, handing the knife to Stu.

He seemed to get the message and stabbed you in the side, waiting for the pain to leave your face before giving it back to you for his turn.

You collapsed into him and had him lead you, both of you limping, to the front, waiting for the police to get there.

“Please!” You cried, sobs racking your stricken body. “Anybody!”

An officer ran up to you, taking in the blood covering both of your shirts. He gestured for paramedics to put you both on gurneys, and followed you into the ambulance. Two of his buddies were checking on Dewey and Gale.

“It was Billy!” You gasped as soon as the doors slammed shut. “It was Billy, it was always Billy,” you echoed Sidney’s words, punctuating each of your words with sobs. They should give you an Oscar for this.

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down. What happened?”

He grabbed a pen and pad of paper and you took it as your cue to begin your story. “I got drunk and passed out at the party,” you kept going despite the officer’s quirked eyebrow. “When I woke up there was. . . There was blood everywhere,” you paused, feigning a shaky breath. “And Gale and Dewey were— oh my god are they all right?”

“They’re going to be okay miss.”

Goddamnit. “Oh that’s great,” you took a deep breath. “Billy was in the kitchen with Sidney. He shot her before I could get to him and then he stabbed Stu,” you paused, letting your eyes fill with tears again. “I tried to stop him and he stabbed me too. I somehow managed to get his gun and shoot him, is he. . . Alive?”

“We won’t know for sure yet, ma’am. What’s your name?”

“Valerie Leers.”

#scream 1996 #billy loomis scream #scream #billy loomis #stu macher x billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stuilly #stu matcher x you #stu my beloved #stu matcher scream

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imagionationstation · 9 months

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This box is getting old, guys.

*This is a more aggressive stance on a subject. If it upsets you at any point, I recommend clicking away. Coming at me with a knife will not change my mind. Taking a breather and then offering your thoughts without challenges attached may go over better*

For those debating clicking, it’s regarding Donnie’s crush on April and how the fandom needs to start looking past the “obsessive, stalker tendencies that ruins his whole character”.

“For Donnie’s honor!” (Leon, 2018)

Ya’ll can feel your feels about Donnie, but stop repeating the same ol’ message to others. It’s corruptive and makes it hard for all levels of fans to see him as a person, rather than a misused storyline.

I can’t for the life of me understand the obsession with stamping Donnie with a his character was brutally murder by the writers and he’s a stalker and his only character feature is “I love April” stamp and closing it up.

Because that fits in the same box of Casey is just a rude idiot or April is only there to be a toxic female love interest and Mikey is nothing but the butt of every joke and amounts to nothing else or Leo is just a bossy, arrogant main character who doesn’t have a personality and especially Raphael is an abusive, angry bully and he deserves to be kicked off the show.

Yes. Someone has told me that Raphael deserves no place on the show because he’s physical and loud. What? Raph’s character feature in most iterations involves anger? How dare he be angry in 2012!

Kick him off the show. Bad writers.

But anyway-

These are newbie, close-minded remarks. And they aren’t fair to the characters. There’s so much more to these guys than the fandom pet peeves and the personality that sticks on the surface.

Yes, Donnie has an intense crush, but she’s the first human girl that he’s ever met. The first anyone outside his family that he’s ever seen! The only human girl who might ever accept him as a person or boyfriend. And she’s purrty.

How can everyone in this fandom look me in the eyes and say they’ve never done anything dumb for a person they admire/are crushing on? Or that no one else in their lives have?

Yes, he tries way to hard and it is often cringe, but that doesn’t sum up the entirety of his personality!

This box that the fandom stick characters in is honestly toxic! If the fans would focus less on the crush and more on the desperate boy who just wants to be noticed and appreciated, maybe this box could finally be broken.

Did you guys miss all the moments Casey proved himself to be intelligent and caring? Or April’s entire character growth as she learns to accept that her life is never going to be as normal as she wants it to be so she might as well embrace herself and the crazy?

How did you overlook all of Mikey’s moments of being in the limelight and showing his own brand of IQ and battle skill? How about Leo’s entire character struggle through the series as he grows to understand how to lead, working up from eldest to leader to sensei as he battles the weight of the world on his shoulders?

Why are EARTH are we ignoring every single time Raph risks his life for his brothers, or comforts them in their times of need, or refuses to join his pet and “best friend” because his brothers come first and no turtle left behind and THIS BOY LOVES HIS FAMILY MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF, DANGGIT.

Donnie is more than his crush. They are all more than the labels that we are helping the writers stick on them. Every. Single. Time. We ‘wish their characters had more to them’ because they were ‘misused’. The only reason that I stuck with this show past season 2 is because of Donnie. The only reason that I love this show as much as I do is because I adore this idiot nerd who is loyal to a fault and works so hard in return for so little and just wants to make the world a better place with his family.

I can make plenty of analyses on all the moments from every episode for all the main crew. Every choice that the fandom deems ‘wrong’ can have a purpose or meaning. Donnie’s crush isn’t black-and-white or dumb and I will not hear anything otherwise.

It’s cringe, obviously, and endlessly exasperating- but there’s reason for everything if you look past the box.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Go change lives.

Or yell at me. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

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justallihere · 3 months

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This is a play by play of my thoughts while I was reading todays chapter:

Did Xaden relish in stabbing the cadet and stopping him from calling Violet a wh0re because he couldn’t kill the Basgaith cadet for calling her that and attempting to kill her?

MY BABY BOY IS IN DENAL. HE IS LITERALLY IN LOVE. HE WANTS MORE!!!!! HE WANTS MORE!!!! IDIOTS, THEY ARE ALL IDIOTS

OMG, I love the little tidbit about Sgayel and Tairn's courtship. That was like so unexpected but it just adds to the story and the parallels in the dragons and their riders.

Is Xaden internally going feral seeing Violet wear his shirt?

" His fearless fucking wife, who held absolutely no regard for her own safety" DON’T PANIC EVERYONE, ITS STARTING!!!

I am confident that Sloane and Tessa are 100% behind Queen Violet and are ready to fight to defend her honor

Xadens love languages: Physical touch, acts of service, gift giving.

Violet is truly an unbothered queen and she has other shit to worry about!!!! I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR VERSION OF VIOLET.

“What do you need me to do?” Xaden asked. “Because you can’t live like this. We can’t live like this.”

“Do you want to get a divorce?” she muttered bitterly.

“Not particularly.” He sighed

YOUR HONOR, YOUR HONOR!!!!!! The scream I scrumpt when I read this. Violet is literally going to mentally burn out at this rate. 😭😭😭Xaden wants to comfort her SOOOO bad!!!!

I am literally sobbing, god i love them so damn much!!!!!!!

I'm so curious sd to know what Bodhi, Garrick, Imogen in particular, and Brennan's thoughts are on all of this. Are Imogen and Garrick discussing how dumb Xaden is????

“Did Xaden relish stabbing the cadet?” Absolutely. Not just because it reminded him of the last time someone tried to assassinate Violet but also because he is violent and wants everyone who thinks badly about his wife to suffer

Baby boy is in less denial than he was before, but as this is a relative scale I’m not entirely sure how much that says about him

I would read 200k words about Tairn and Sgaeyl’s courtship and mating. I will not be writing it beyond little bits and pieces but I would offer a forehead kiss to anyone who wants to. And yes, I am a firm believer that Violet and Xaden’s relationship mirrors theirs in a lot a ways because dragon and rider are also so similar in this case

“Is Xaden going feral over Violet wearing his shirt?” ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY HE IS. If she would have not taken it off that would have been very cool to him but alas. Here we are

Violet is SO tired. My baby girl. Xaden wants to wrap her in every blanket he owns and hold her and let her sleep for like 3 days straight but she would not allow that

Bodhi, Garrick, and Imogen are standing in a corner going “what the fuck is this idiot doing,” Liam is unsurprised as hell, and Brennan is trying desperately to not have an opinion because he knows Violet is still angry and would not appreciate him poking his nose into whatever the fuck she and Xaden are doing from, like, an interpersonal standpoint

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #storm in the quiet

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massivewaffle · 2 years

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What’s In a Name?

Paring: GoodTimesWithScar/You (Gender Neutral) Word Count: 3715 Warnings: Daddy Kink Innuendo Rating: PG13/Teen (for innuendo) AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41777697

Summary: Scar returns to Hermitcraft after a personal best in MCC only to discover you've picked up on a particular nickname he's given himself.

A/N: This was going to be a short one-shot to make a few dumb innuendos and a High School Musical reference and then it grew like Scar’s chest monster. I’m very tempted to write a chapter two/second installment if anyone desires because Scar’s voice recording in Pearl’s new video has rendered me weak.

Stepping through the portal that connects Hermitcraft to the wider universe, Scar braces himself against the smooth obsidian, grateful for the cool stone beneath his palm. After a day of taxing situations, both physical and mental, quiet was what Scar craved. Minecraft Championships was something he looked forward to monthly, and he was happy and honored to be included, but he can’t deny the toll it puts upon his mind and body. This was his best MCC performance thus far, and he grins thinking of his 26th individual placement – his highest score yet. While the other participating Hermits returned to the server ages ago, Scar decided to stick around, needing to desperately burn off some pent-up energy by chatting with new friends. HBomb and Pete were such fun guys, and he socialized so little outside of Hermitcraft; it would be a waste to let those friendships fall to the wayside because of something as trivial as exhaustion.

Of course, as he takes his first shaky steps toward his home, he questions his decision-making ability. Who thought allowing him to make decisions was a good idea anyway?

It isn’t long before Scar stumbles to the entrance of his tree, taking a moment to wave hello to the ravager looming within the foliage down the path. A bath is what he craves, and he uses his remaining energy to barrel through his home, straight to the bathing area he’d set up, hidden from prying eyes. Not like anyone has actively pried on him, but a man can never be too careful on any server containing Zedaph and his spyglass.

Allowing the water to rush over him, Scar lolls his head back, thoughts drifting to the day now behind him. He had done his best and was pleased with the results of his practice. And, to be honest, he was even more pleased with everyone else’s praise of his newfound improvement. The tips you’d suggested to him had paid off tenfold, and Scar can only hope he is on an upward trajectory from here on out.

The recollection of practice slowly fades, leaving only thoughts of the one thing he had spent all day attempting to avoid focusing on; you. You had yet to get your invitation to MCC, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time now. Your skill speaks for itself, and if it weren’t for the already long waiting list, your name would have made it onto a team based on skill alone. Skills, Scar hates to say, he finds overwhelmingly attractive. He isn’t quite sure why watching you hit crits on mobs is so mesmerizing, but it is. He should probably unpack that one day, but today is not the day for introspection.

Pulling himself out of the bath before his thoughts take a turn, he dries off, heading to his bedroom to dress. Jellie lies across the middle of his bed - her bed, really - stretched in a way that seems physically impossible for a cat to take up so much room.

“Why, hello Jellie! How’s my girl doing? Did you miss me?” He asks, deft fingers scratching at her head as she pushes into his palm. Scar revels in the consistent purr she emits, immediately overwhelmed by a sense of comfort.

Tossing on some more casual attire, Scar shakes his head a few times, deciding to forgo drying his hair and allowing it to air dry. Jellie has abandoned him, jumping from his bed to a windowsill, enraptured by something beyond Scar’s field of vision. Scar’s not entirely sure what to do with himself now. Most of the Hermits will be preparing for their evenings, and he’s far too drained to begin working on a project. Perhaps a bit of fresh air will clear his mind.

Scar heads outside, resting in the cool shade granted to him by his build. Though it’s nearing dinner time and the traces of dusk are filtering in, the heat hangs heavy in the air. It’s not so much stifling as it is irritating; a sign that summer is finally on its way out but continues to clutch desperately to the world. He can vaguely hear Mumbo and Grian yelling not too far away and, for a moment, contemplates joining in their fun but shakes off the urge. He finds himself enjoying the white noise of the area, already maxed out after the roar of MCC. Leaning back into the stone adorning his home’s entrance, he takes a moment to close his eyes and savor the soft breeze, the shouts of his friends fading into the distance. He specifically built the door to his base this way, tucked downhill just enough where he can be outside but not necessarily be seen. Calm in the eye of the storm, a place of comfort, a home where-

“So, do I need to start calling you Sand Daddy now?”

Scar’s head jerks forward, lifting away from the entrance toward the source of your voice, eyes crinkling as he squints into the setting sun to make out your silhouette. He finally spots you a few feet away, back pressed into the wooden trunk of the acacia tree shrouding the area in patches of light and shadow. Scar’s exhaustion fades into the back of his mind as his eyes take you in, unable to tell if you’re there or if the effects of the day have simply caught up to him.

“Hello?” Scar asks, voice shaky.

“You did well.”

Ah. So that is you. Gathering himself quickly, Scar fires back.

“I’m sorry. Care to repeat that?” Scar is fully aware you can hear the smirk in his voice, and he’s banking on your annoyance to continue this conversation.

“Are you asking because you couldn’t understand or just to hear me praise you again?”

Scar doesn’t miss a beat.

“Does it matter?”

“Absolutely. I’m much more willing to clarify than compliment; you know that.”

“So you were impressed!” Scar exclaims. Crossing his arms over his chest, Scar shifts his weight to the right, allowing his shoulder to fall to the wall. Under the lanterns adorning his walkway, Scar looks mischievous, shrouded in shadow.

Scar sighs overdramatically, knowing it will humor you.

“And to think, here I was, thinking you would come and tell me I’m a parkour god, the true H0tGuY, the king of Rocket Spleef. Instead, I get a ‘you did well.’ How demoralizing after that amazin’ MCC practice we did.”

The quiet of Scar’s base allows him to hear you giggle, which is his goal in any situation.

“I assure you, I planned to come over here to shower you with praise regardless of the outcome, but then I watched MCC and heard everyone calling you Sand Daddy. I can’t beat that nickname; why even try?” You ask with a chuckle, descending the pathway to saunter directly into Scar’s eye line.

“Hey, I earned that one!”

You laugh as you raise your hands in defense, shifting onto your heels.

“I’m not arguing! Though you did kind of call yourself that, but I’ll let it slide. The practice absolutely helped. You guys killed it out there.” You admit, allowing your hands to drop to your sides as you look up to meet Scar’s eyes.

The soft breeze returns, tickling lightly on your skin yet heavy enough to blow a few errant hairs directly into Scar’s eyes. He attempts to flick them away with a snap of his head but fails, only bringing more into his line of sight. He huffs, shifting his gaze to the stray hair as if glaring at it will force it to behave. It’s wonderfully endearing, and the tips of his slightly pointed ears rush red with embarrassment.

“Do you really think I did well?” Scar says, eyes still trained on his own hair.

“I suppose you didn’t do too bad,” you offer with an exaggerated shrug, so he understands you’re teasing. Scar’s lip quirks just enough for you to know he picked up on it, but he stays silent. Clearly, he needs more convincing. You drop all pretense and speak in your normal voice, devoid of teasing.

“You did amazingly well. I was screaming my head off the entire event. We all were, to be fair, but I think I might have burst poor Stress’s eardrums during Rocket Spleef. Even the events you did so-so on were a vast improvement from your last MCC. People were talking about how they underestimated you. So yeah, I guess you did do well. You may even convince me to say I’m proud of you, but I’m not tired enough to let that one slip yet,” You joke, winking at him.

Even in the orange-hued light given off by the lanterns, Scar knows you can see the blush on his face. He’s not going to try and hide it; there's no point in covering for what he already suspects you know. Scar’s enamored with you, and any crumb of attention you’re willing to throw his way will have him on cloud nine for the next week. That little speech was enough to satiate him for the rest of the year. Face burning, Scar meets your eyes and is shaken by the soft gaze you’re returning to him. Gone is your trademark smirk, the glint of trouble that’s always simmering just beneath the surface. Here he sees you laid bare, and he can’t deny how happy he is that you spoke honestly.

“Thank you,” he manages to verbalize, “that means a lot.”

You scoff lightly. “Just speaking the truth. You shouldn’t be so surprised. You’re pretty impressive on an average day already.” You reply, voice with just a tinge more edge than before. “I mean that last round of Rocket Spleef; I didn’t realize you were such a show-off!”

It’s Scar’s turn to laugh now as he thinks back to that moment. His team was cheering for him, egging him on to show these kids how it’s done. He may be good with a bow, but anyone who wants to hit ultra peak velocity shots, as he calls them, needs to know how to dodge and weave with the best of them. Everyone in MCC is talented, but it was nice to show some of the PVPers they should try picking up an elytra once in a while.

“What can I say? Top Gun isn’t going to remake itself! Figured it was worth giving everyone a bit of a show.”

“Oh, you gave everyone a show, that’s for sure, H0tGuY,” you joke, taking a step closer to Scar. “It was nice seeing you confident out there. You looked good.” Your smirk remains, but there’s a new glint in your eyes. One Scar has seen in fleeting moments, but as you hold his gaze, the look burns through his very core.

“Did I now?” Scar asks, eyebrow quirked. Unsure he is reading this situation correctly, Scar attempts to stay on solid ground, but your compliments go straight to his head.

“Mmhm. How often do I have to say it before you believe it?”

“Roughly ten thousand more times. By then, we might get over the worst of it.”

“Hmm. Better get started. I’ll need a dictionary to satiate you, I think.” You joke, looking up at Scar through your lashes.

“I’ll order you one of those word of the day calendars for the holidays. Maybe you can use that for some inspiration!”

Laughing, you’re fully aware that Scar would do something exactly like that just to follow through on the joke.

“Wow, compliments and a challenge all rolled into one; you know me too well. All of my favorite things.”

“Two down, how many to go?”

“Oh c’mon, Scar, I’m sure you can figure that out for yourself, don’t you think?”

There’s a tension permeating the air, similar to when a thunderstorm is on the way, but nary a raindrop has fallen. A storm that has been building since this conversation started. Neither wishes to drop their gaze, but you look away first, eyes trailing down Scar’s face and over his body. Your eyes flick back up, a soft smile again playing on your lips. The space between you is respectable, close enough, but nothing improper, at least not yet. You lean forward just a tad, enough where you can make out the scent of Scar’s body wash but not crash into his chest.

“As a heads up, get some good rest tonight. I think Keralis will be waking us all up unfathomably early.” You say with a grin.

“Keralis? Why would he be gathering us all so early?” Scar asks, already counting back the hours from morning to determine what constitutes a good night’s sleep.

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but apparently, he wanted to celebrate how good y’all did today. Breakfast buffet at the Bamboo lounge. You know how Keralis loves to throw a soiree.”

“…Wasn’t she in High School Musical?’

“A soiree Scar, not Sharpay. A party. He’s throwing a party in the morning,” You reply, desperately attempting to hide your laughter and failing miserably.

“Ah. Well, that does make more sense. Though, oddly enough, if anyone were a friend of someone in that movie, I’d place a bet on Keralis.”

“I…I honestly can’t argue with you there.”

A peaceful silence falls as you exchange smiles. Scar shifts, crossing his arms again, and you can’t fight the urge to ogle the way his slender fingers lay across his bicep. Scar’s always been an attractive man, but you can’t deny he is far more toned than you noticed. The unexpected muscle paired with the soft, comfortable-looking tee and sweatpants combination he’s wearing sends your brain into overdrive. You’d helped him film Hotguy: The Siege, yet this was the most attractive he’s ever looked. Between the dressed-down outfit and the messy, fluffy hair Scar is currently rocking, the moment suggests domesticity. It’s cozy, one could say. Life is nice like this; warm and safe amidst the trees and dimmed lights of Scar’s base.

“Are you going to be there?”

Scar’s voice breaks you from your domestic daydreaming.

“Hm?”

“At the sharpay. Will you be honoring us with your presence?”

“While I usually loathe the BDubs early morning approach to life, I would never miss a Keralis breakfast. Keralis breakfast means one thing –“

“XB’s cooking,” you say simultaneously.

A smile creeps onto your face at the synergy you share.

“Plus, you’ll put on a good show.”

It’s Scar’s turn to look puzzled by your words.

“Good show?”

“Of course. I’m planning on a mimosa in one hand, XB’s French Toast in another, and watching you turn bright red every time a Hermit compliments you on your 26th placement, Sand Daddy.”

“Oh my god.”

“You’re doing it now!” You exclaim, throwing a finger into Scar’s flushed face. “A teeny bit of praise, and you get all blushy and shy. It’s fantastic. You go from Top Gun to Weird Science in a minute flat.”

“I’m so glad my suffering amuses you.” Scar’s deadpan delivery directly rivals the mirth in his eyes.

“Incredibly so.” You say with a wink. “But you deserve all the praise tomorrow, so be prepared for people to lay it on thick, Mister Rocket Spleef Rush Top 5 Finisher.”

Scar feels his face burning at your comments.

“So you did watch closely, huh?”

“Couldn’t let my H0TGuY down now, could I?” You ask, immediately wincing as your voice cracks.

“So I’m your H0TGuY now?” Scar says quickly, arms falling to his sides. “Works for me.”

You giggle, prepared to fire back with another witty comment when you catch Scar’s gaze. He’s giving you a look far too serious to be contested with banter. His eyes are scrutinizing you, and you feel nervous under their surveillance. It’s hard to maintain eye contact, especially as Scar tilts his head back for a moment to stretch his neck, jawline on display. You can feel his stare as your eyes trace the long line of his neck down to the scoop neck of his shirt, memorizing the pattern of every scar littering the area. His hair flops back down into his eyes as he realigns himself before you, clearly smirking as if he’s finally figured you out.

“You never answered my question, by the way,” you squeak, your voice breathier than intended.

Scar’s smirk grows as he tips his head to one side.

“Hm? And which question was that, troublemaker?”

“Do I need to start calling you Sand Daddy now?’ You ask, feigning bashfulness for a moment. “Or are you more into just part of that nickname” You trail off, eyes slowly dragging up Scar’s frame as you step into his personal space. When you finally meet his eyes, you’re only inches apart, and you find yourself swooning over the way Scar’s face scrunches in confusion, his teeth jutting out to bite at his bottom lip.

“Why would I want you to call me sand?”

God, you love this idiot.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you lean in, resting your forehead on Scar’s chest. Just as you imagined, his shirt is equally soft and thin. Thin enough, in fact, that despite the cool breeze, you can perceive his body heat radiating against you. Scar’s hands lift to rest lightly at your waist, unsure. Heart pumping, you turn your head to the side, lounging calmly against him as you speak.

“Not that one, Scar.”

“Well then, what do you…Oh.”

“Oh?”

“OH.”

Scar’s voice is breathless, and you swear you faintly pick up on his heart racing beneath your ear. A moment passes before his arms move, one delicately moving around your low back, the other raising to tilt your chin back.

“I can’t say I’d be opposed to that, but I’ve never tried it before.” Scar mutters. His voice drops a few octaves, and the inside of your brain feels like Joe’s pinball machine as his deep timbre bounces around. “But you know I’m always willing to practice.”

Scar looks at you for a moment, and you tilt your head toward him in a nod. Closing your eyes, Scar’s breath flits over your lashes as you wait for his lips to touch yours.

“SCAR, PLEASE INFORM GRIAN THAT NO, WARDENS ARE NOT GIFTS.”

“I’M JUST SAYING THEY COULD BE MUMBO!! YOU NEED TO EXPAND YOUR MIND!”

“WELL, YOU NEED A SERIOUS…”

You and Scar jump at the sound of voices coming up the walkway, separating as quickly as possible. You’re both noticeably flushed, practically panting from the anticipation of moments ago. Scar’s shirt is slightly crumpled from where your head rested, and you’re sure your ears are as red as Grian’s sweater. Sneaking a peek, Mambo and Grian stand a few feet away, staring wide-eyed in your direction.

“Grian, I feel as though we’ve interrupted a moment.”

“Was that a moment? “I would distinctly consider that a moment.”

“What kind of moment? Good moment? Bad moment?”

“Please stop talking.” Scar says, sighing, both palms pressed into his eyes. “Please, for the love of Jellie, stop talking.”

“Right. Well. Uh. I suppose we can discuss Wardens tomorrow, Scar. Let’s go!”

Grian’s rocket sets off before the words leave his mouth, soaring through Scar’s tree.

“Yes, well. Uh. Terrible sorry, friends. I’ll just be going.” Mumbo stutters, face quickly reddening. He fires his rocket to follow Grian’s exit, knocking into several branches before you’re sure he’s gone.

“I want to murder them.” Scar admits. “I love them dearly, but I also want to murder them.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “I think that’s how the entire server feels about them most of the time.”

Scar snorts and the two of you fall back into silence.

“Kinda killed the moment there.” Scar confesses. “Sorry about, y’know. Them.”

“It’s to be expected. Never a dull moment around here.” You respond with a smile and a shrug.

“Never thought I’d say this, but I think I’m ready for a few more dull moments around here.”

“Yeah? What a coincidence; I was just thinking the same thing.”

Scar looks up at the sky, a light smile pulling at his lips.

“Breakfasts are really dull, don’t you think? Honestly, whose favorite part of the day is breakfast?”

“Notoriously boring. Only a true demon would love waking up early for breakfast.”

“I completely agree.” Scar looks over to you, the sparkle returning to his eyes.

“So, I’ll meet you at your base in the morning? You have to wake up early to get the first batch of mimosas after all. Can’t have you oversleeping and getting a bad seat to the show.”

“I’ll set three alarms just in case.” You beam back at Scar, head filled with fewer nerves and more anticipation.

“Would you like me to walk you home?” Scar asks, but you wave him off.

“No, it’s fine; it’s a short walk. You had a busy day. You should get some rest.” Straightening yourself out, you return to standing in Scar’s personal space.

“Besides, you’ll need your energy tomorrow.”

“True. Breakfast will take a lot out of me, I’m sure,” Scar jokes.

“Mhmm.” You murmur, hands reaching for Scar’s own.

“Plus, we have a practice session scheduled for tomorrow. It seems we have some new things to try out.”

Scar’s eyes widen at your words, mouth opening and closing a few times before squeaking a response.

“Yes. Yes, of course. Practice makes perfect and all that.” Scar’s response is fewer words and more stream-of-consciousness rambling, but you find it adorable all the same.

“Goodnight, Sand Daddy.” Scar’s face is a mixture of amusement and adoration, your favorite. Popping up on your tiptoes, you quickly press a kiss to the corner of Scar’s mouth before dropping back down.

“Goodnight.” Scar whispers.

Turning to make your exit, you pause at the edge of Scar’s walkway to take one last look. Peeking out from behind your original Acacia tree spot, you’re secluded enough to be out of Scar’s eyesight. As Scar turns to reenter his home, he pumps his arm a few times in happiness, attempting what looks to be a little dance of joy. Rolling your eyes, you turn and head home, and for the first time in your life, you can’t wait to wake up early.

#Waffle Writes #Hermitshipping #hermitcraft x reader #goodtimeswithscar x reader #goodtimeswithscar x you #readerfic #mind the warnings #GoodTimesWithScar x Original Female Character

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idiomaticpunk · 1 year

Text

You are the reason - Lilith, Warrior Nun.

Sister Lilith x reader (she/her), no names used. request by @loaksmuntxa fluff, some spoilers but it does not follow perfectly the plot. 1,7K words.

english isnt my first language!!

The bond you shared with Lilith was special.

Yes, she was clearly rude at first, and she still was, even with how close the two of you were. Both of you were “legacies”. Her family being the halo bearer for 6 generations before Ava took over, and yours being known to be the mighty-protector, the one who taught everything to the halo bearer. It may sound a little bit dumb, considering that they were the one bearing the halo, but it takes a lot: mentally and physically. But your little spanish family was known to have a pure heart. And all the women in your family were amazing at archery, so that did help. Naturally, both of your family were very close. You balanced Lilith’s family’s harsh nature, while she balanced with your too soft family. But being legacies had its problems. The pressure from both of your family was extremely intense and that may have contributed to Lilith’s downfall with Adriel. But anyways, you both bonded on that pressure, especially after Ava took over Lilith’s role and Beatrice kinda took over yours.

Don’t get it wrong, Lilith and you still had that bond before the incident, when Shannon was still the Warrior Nun. She was training all day, all night, and you can’t count on your fingers all the times you had to stop her from throwing an umpteenth knife around 3 am. Your hands softly touching her shoulder, before resting on it, while she nearly jumped from the contact of your hot skin against her cold one. You coaxing her to go to bed with pleading eyes, desperately trying to make eye-contact with her. Because that “damm fucking bond”, made her unable to resist to your sleepy eyes begging her to go to sleep. But every time, you would make eye contact, because that’s what you were good at, and she would end up cuddled against you in bed. Lilith would never admit that she was cuddling with you. It was more of her fulfilling her legacy-halo-bearer-duty, of course. She would never admit that she liked those soft touches, your fingers tracing the contour of her face-bones, that would always lull her to sleep. Or that she loved counting the moles and soft marks on your face when she thought you were asleep.

The bond you shared with Lilith was special, unique, soft, and intimate.

It all changed when she changed sides, obviously. You couldn’t deny it, it was hurting to see that woman whom you shared so many intimates and soft moments, trying to kill Ava. She had grown wings. And God, they were beautiful and you couldn’t stop looking at it when you saw them. It was impossible to hurt her, or even to try to hurt her. You were an amazing fighter, and you helped Lilith with her training for years. But throwing a knife or an arrow at her felt wrong. Maybe it was your mother speaking into your head. “God, I hate her mother, but please don’t embarrass us more by killing the one you were supposed to help.” Or maybe it was that bond, telling you this wasn’t YOUR Lilith. That she needed help. Killing Adriel was the only way. And you knew she needed help and wanted it. With those new powers, new abilities, she had the opportunity to kill you, more than one. But weirdly enough, her knives, her arrows, and everything that could hurt you always ended up a foot away from you. The bond was speaking, even in her corrupted mind.

Then, she disappeared for a while, but you didn’t stop fighting. You had your place next to Ava, Beatrice and that weird guy they found, Miguel. Your family had been fighting for years against devils, and killing Adriel would definitely bring back the honor in your family. So here you were, next to the portal, bow in your hand, and with the most cold face you could have put on. Facing Adriel and Lilith, the girl whom you shared soft kisses, shyly, in the dark, after a rough day. Lilith, who looked more and more unrecognizable, suddenly pulled Miguel’s heart, who was actually Michael or whatever, out of his chest, destroying the divinium bomb plan. Rising your bow, you throw a first arrow at Adriel, and you pray for you, and Lilith, as the fight begins. Everything is such a blur. Camila crying in Adriel mind’s, as she tells you, Beatrice protecting Ava from Lilith, you end up limping, bleeding nearly everywhere, a hand holding your left flank, stumbling every now and there, near the arch, your other hand bearing a sword, trying to stab as better as you could Adriel. His laugh resonates inside your ringing ears. “Miserable human…Fighting to protect the life of such an unknown person…Ava does not deserve this…Look at you, poor creature, putting your life at risk for her. You nuns are really mad.” Swallowing the blood in your mouth, you raise the sword once again, and God knows how, you actually touch him. And with the coolest smirk, that was so much like Lilith’s, you answered him weakly. “I am not doing this for Ava. I’m not saving Ava, but Lilith! I’ll try for centuries if she needs me to!”

He catches the end of your sword and throws it across the room, the shining weapon ending up into a wall. That ugly laugh gets to your ears again, and as you see him talk, Adriel raises his leg, and God, he’s going to push you in that fucking weird dimension. And God you were swearing like Lilith. Speaking of, a black ball comes towards you at lightning speed, and you realize it’s Lilith, who dropped Ava in the corner, coming towards you like a fury. When you lose your balance, your hair flies out of place, your hand leaves your side, and you turn your head, trying to make eye-contact one last time with your Lilith. Now questioning every bit of your sanity, you try to understand why you’re not dead yet, as Lilith’s burned arm holds you, just a little bit above the floor, as her other arm throws a kick at her “master”, punching him a few feet back. God, when has she become this muscular? Her arms weren’t this strong around your waist before. You didn’t know if you were hallucinating, dead, or alive, but you can hear the confusion in Adriel’s voice, and feel the stares of your sisters. “"Lilith, the supposed halo-bearer choosing that human over me, Adriel, when I have shown you the true world! I have given you wings, power, everything you needed to avenge yourself! You have shown your true colors and weakness by choosing love over loyalty. You will regret this betrayal as much as you will regret ever crossing me. I will make sure that you suffer for your treachery and that you never forget the price of betrayal."

Now, you were clearly hallucinating, your head spinning, ears ringing like there were bells in your head, vision becoming more and more blurry, but all you can do is focus on Lilith’s beautiful face, counting her eyelashes one last time as her arms hold your bleeding figure tighter. “You were about to take away the only person that I loved! The only person who loved me for who I was before you turned me into a monster! She means the world to me, miserable human or not! And me alive, you will not hurt her!” Rage echoes in her voice, and soft and cold tears falling on your cheeks are the last thing you can remember.

Everything's a blur, foamy memory. Everything but the pain that rushes to your nervous system when you move an inch of your body. A strangle moan leaves your body, and the door flies open. You want to scream, to run, to hide or even to fight. But you make eye-contact. With her. And she walks, not flies to you in a scared manner;like you were about to run away or even to disappear if she blinked too slowly. A smile falls on your face, and Lilith’s smile mirrors yours, and she sits on the chair next to the hospital bed. “Do you really think, after all this, I want you to sit next to me? I’m not made of sugar. I know, we are in public, and things have changed… You take a deep breath, eyes filling with tears as she abruptly stands up to wipe them as they only start to fall. Damm her and fast reflexes, and damn the way she so easily reads into you. Lilith's dark pink lips shushes you, but you nod softly, too scared to move your neck as you continue speaking. And if you knew better, you’d think her eyes were watery too. But right now, I just need you to hold me. How you want, where you want. I know this isn’t usual, but God it was so scary Lilith! I thought I lost you!”

And Lilith shushes you again, because she knew. She now knew what it felt like to nearly lose your most-loved one, and how scary it is. She settles to the edge of the bed, her long dark hair framing her face perfectly, and the nearly angel looking girl that she was, holds your hand as the other cups your face lovingly. Loving you was easy, you made it look like the easiest thing ever. She was ready to love you. It would take time for her to heal, for the both of you. Especially with the holy-war that was coming. But she would protect you. It was her legacy. Loving you never felt so easy when she realized. Bearing the halo or avenging herself were not her only reasons to live. You were the reason.

#lilith x reader #warrior nun x reader #warrior nun lilith x reader #lesbian x reader #lesbian!reader #warriornun!lilith x reader #ava x reader #punkie is love deprived

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