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mar-iiposa · 11 months

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prompt: the boys find out that their s/o snorts when they laugh

tag(s)/warnings: GN reader, suggestive comments/themes/jokes, vv fluffy

requests: open

authors note at the end for readers!! stay tuned :D

Leonardo:

he’s trimming his bonsai (you know how much he treasures them)

he’s slightly humming “boy’s a liar too

you’re reading a book whilst in the dojo

the dojo is quiet except for the calculated snips

you decided to save the next chapter of your book for later, so you quietly go on your phone

until you see a cute couples date idea on your ‘for you’ page

“hey, leo?”

you didn’t expect your voice to come off as wayy louder than intended

and neither did your boyfriend

the blue-masked ninja jumps at the unexpected noise

so much so that he knocks his bonsai over

his heart stops and he swiftly dove to the floor and scrambled to juggle the plant before finally catching it

he wipes his forehead and breathes a loud sigh of relief

however, you’re laughing your literal ass off

never have you seen him so visibly stressed

you were convinced he was gonna have a heart attack

hunched over and gripping your own sides, you’re hollering

and out comes snorts while you laugh

but as soon as you realize you’re snorting, you put a hand to your mouth

as you blink in embarrassment and security,

leo smiles over at you in adoration

with those criminal cute dimples too

“what was tha-?”

“you heard nothing.”

“babe, I know what I heard.”

you look away in pure embarrassment, heavily avoiding eye contact

“I know it’s weird-“

he’s now visibly confused

like wtf??? wdym ‘weird’??

he thought, if anything, that he’s the weird one

considering he’s a mutant turtle

“how is that gorgeous laugh weird?”

you’re about to respond when you pause

your cheeks grow warm

“what-“

“you heard me.”

and he’s giving you that little coy yet sincere smile of his

“you should laugh like that more often, princess.”

your jaw has dropped

he takes a few steps towards you

and he gently holds your chin, lifting it so that you look up at him

eye contact (l o r d)

“I like that raw beauty.”

you sink into your seat, oh my god

he chuckles softly and pecks your lips with a kiss before walking out of the dojo

you’re stunned.

and why are you turned on-

Raphael:

so we all know raph

and he is the biggest “gym rat”

( no offense to master splinter )

and you guys know those squats that you do with weights???

yeah, well, raph wanted to try those out today

and so he did

but it didn’t go by unnoticed

you were spotting raph (gym term) when mikey passed by

and my god, does mikey always have something to say

right as raph was mid-squat

“nice ass-popping, raph”

you

you LOST IT

in tears laughing

mikey instantly fled from the scene

the look on raphael’s face just made it so much better

and so did it make you laugh much harder

thus, you began to laugh your “real laugh”

snort after snort surrounded your laughter

uncontrollably snort-laughing

“ya got the hiccups there?”

and just as quickly as he mentioned it, you were just as quick to stop it

you stood from your seat and your brows furrowed together

he knew that look

that was when he knew he was screwed

and off you went, grabbing your things and ready to head up go the surface and back home for the night

he strides after you, reaching out for your arm

but you pull it back before he can get the chance

“babe, what’s wro-“

you stop briefly outside of the lair’s entrance, tears pricking at your eyes

you feel the droplets on your lashes, and you can’t look at him

so, he stands in front of you

and his heart stings

“I feel like a pig,” you cough slightly as you begin to cry

raph’s expression instantly softens

“baby… yer speakin’ nonsense.”

he gently takes your hand in his big, rough and calloused one

“everyone always says that when they hear my real laugh.”

your pout quivers as your lips do so, your shoulders shaking slightly as you cry

you move to cover your mouth and half of your face with your other hand as you cry

but he stops you

and he carefully places it on his cheek

and his left hand rests on your cheek too

“raphae-“

“I love ev’rythin’ about ya. sweet cheeks, look at me.”

your gaze flickers to meet his amber eyes

“you could have a million laughs… but this one right here? jesus, that one’s my favorite. now that’s for sure.”

you get on your toes and desperately hug your much-taller boyfriend

now this is one of the reasons he’s the love of your life

“I love you, raphie.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Donatello:

that’s it

he’s convinced you are 110% his soulmate

and here he thought that he had the worst and dorkiest laugh

this snort-laugh of yours occurred when donnie had accidentally taken a sip of scorchingly-hot coffee

he was sleep deprived

thus, he forgot how hot coffee could be

directly after pouring it

and you weren’t quick enough to stop him

so you snort laugh, stomping a little as you throw your head back in your chair

he used to hate his own laugh that involved tons of snorting sounds

but now you’ve effortlessly convinced him that it’s the best laugh in the entire universe

“what was that?”

donnie’s got the biggest and most goofiest grin on his face

“I can explain-“

his grin expands

“yeah, huh? give me another demonstration, darling.”

you shake your head in disagreement

just as you open your mouth to further reply, he continues

“oh, I bet I can out-snort you, jellybean.”

a wicked grin plastered on his face

and a mirroring grin begins to grow on yours too

“how much are we talkin’?”

“un-licked poptarts.”

“annddd?”

“annddd I’ll have to be out of the lab for a week.”

woah

this dude was serious

“deal. pleasure doing business with you, an-“

“nuh uh, no stalling. let’s hear it, you first.”

donnie gestured towards you to start off the competition

you give a purposely-snarky little laugh, snorting near the end

your boyfriend gives a nod of approval

“very cute, might be hard to beat.”

then he gives it a go

“such a rookie”

he shoots such a devastatingly-cute yet playful grin over at you

he then cracks his knuckles

“game on.”

and so now this just sparks your competitive side

you two spend the next 15 minutes just going back and forth

and those passing by right outside of the lab are so confused

“what the hell’s going on in there-”

Michelangelo:

thank god he’s a comedian

you’ve giggled countless times around mikey and towards his jokes

he’s a funny one

indefinitely getting giggles and chuckles straight out of you

but your actual laugh???

it had yet to be unleashed

until today

your boyfriend’s trying to show you how to get creative with your art

lately, you’ve been out of the zone

and who better than than the master of creativity himself to help you out of your art block?

so here you are in the sewers, spray painting on the walls

“angelcakes, you’re too stiff! you gotta relax, chillll”

“but I’m trying!”

he moves to stand directly behind you, covering your eyes with the tails of his mask, his hands over them as well

“what’re you doing?”

“just spray with your eyes closed and move, babes.”

you inhale and then exhale

with a few movements here and there, you decide to start off small until you could hopefully gain inspiration from there

instead, all you got was a surprise

“IS THAT A PENIS?”

apparently, you accidentally drew one

mikey yelped, falling to the floor as he banged his fist against it in fits of laughter

he had the humor of a middle-school boy

and so did you

top tier comedy imo

you kneeled down to the floor beside him

clapping your hands, you feel yourself losing control of your body

and that accounts and goes for your laugh too

least expecting it, you begin to snort as you uncontrollably laugh

some squeals in there too as you try to regain your composure

he laughs harder, pointing at you

you nearly feel the insecurity start to seep in

that is until you hear him go “awee!”

and your heart melts

but not as much as his has

“you like my snorting??”

“who wouldn’t?! it’s the cuuutest thing ever, baby!”

you swore that you fell deeper in love with this man

somehow

you both just sit there in those sewers

laughing over an accidental penis drawing

and continuing to laugh like a couple of fools

lovesick fools

author’s note: hello, everyone!! glad to be back! I’ve been on hiatus recently, but I hope to be more active and produce more fanfics and headcanons for you guys :) I am currently open to requests, so please send them my way! and don’t limit yourself, you can send as manyyyy requests as you want!! please leave comments and stuff, they fuel my motivation and validation tbh 🫶 thank you for reading, thrilled to be back!!

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the-karma-cafe · 3 months

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arthur morgan x reader ("oh arthur")

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

in which arthur is desperate for an excuse for you to touch him

“Oh, Arthur,” a voice called exasperatedly from the campfire.

Arthur blinked blearily, still in the early stages of waking up. Already? He grumbled a little under his breath, not expecting to be bothered the second he exited his tent. Usually he had at least a minute to himself; perhaps he had not quite earned that this week. He rubbed an eye and glanced around.

Approaching him from his left, one hand holding a steaming cup of coffee and the other on her hip, was (Y/N). She rolled her eyes, and once she reached him, thrust out the cup towards him, its piping contents jostling about dangerously. He made a noise of surprise and took it from her, immediately balancing it in his grip. He looked down into the cup, its rich scent wafting up to meet his nose. “’S this for me?” he mumbled, voice still roughened from sleep. He coughed, clearing his throat self-consciously. The coffee swayed in the cup.

"No." came her clipped response, like it was obvious. He scrunched up his nose, his gaze moving from the cup to her face. What crawled up her-?

Her hands were reaching up towards him, and he felt himself hold his breath. They stopped just under his face, grabbing at his collar. "What..." he breathed, his eyes tracking her movement, tucking his chin into his chest to watch. Her fingers tugged at the wrinkled fabric, unfolding it from the poor state it was in, and pulling down at it to straighten it.

She moved closer, huffing something under her breath he couldn't make out. His eyes moved back up to her, catching on that strand of hair that always fell out of her updo. His hand twitched.

"There." And suddenly she was gone, along with the warmth from the cup in his hand. He dumbly looked down at his now-empty hand, feeling ten times slower than everything around him this morning.

"...Thanks?"

Her laugh rang out. "You're welcome, Mr. Morgan." He looked back up at her, watching her twist and walk away from him. "Can't have you out robbin' in such a sorry state—stains the Van der Linde name!" she called out from over her shoulder.

"I suppose." he responded, more to himself, and long after she had left.

He spent a beat longer in that spot, feeling rooted to the ground. A cuff on the shoulder broke him from his trance, and he sheepishly stalked off to his horse.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

The next day, it happened again. Then again. Then again. There was always something off about how he looked, and she would tirelessly trot over to fix it. His collar was wrinkled, his suspenders uneven, his hair messed up, his clothes dirty... it wasn’t always first thing in the morning, sometimes it was after he had returned from town or from hunting. He had barely had time to dismount his horse before she was on him, smacking dirt off his front.

“Take a quick roll in the pig sty before you came back?” she prompted, sounding a bit irritated by his state of disarray. She seemed to get more and more annoyed with him the more this went on.

He shrugged, hiding a grin as she rounded his form to brush off his back. “Gotta get low to hunt, sweetheart.” he drawled, turning towards her before she could finish brushing him off.

She scowled. “So why is it Charles always manages to come back looking fine?”

Charles huffed a laugh from the other side of his horse. She sighed, her eyes zeroing in on another spot above his chest. She reached out and brushed it off. “You’re hopeless.”

Apparently deeming him clean enough, she wandered off to speak with Hosea.

“You’ve always been unkempt, Arthur." Charles prompted, rounding Taima. "What’s with her sudden interest?”

Arthur shrugged again, hearing his smile more than feeling it. “Must’ve got sick of me.”

Charles hummed, watching Arthur stare after her.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Oh, he was a fool.

Arthur's reflection stared back at him: collar rumpled, one suspender off his shoulder, hair mussed. He almost scooped up dirt from the ground, but the slightest twinge of shame stopped him before he could. He shook his head, looking away. It was midday, she'd likely be busy with something else and not even notice. He forced himself to leave his tent.

He didn’t make it two steps out before being pushed right back in.

“Arthur have y’lost yer mind??” her hands were on him in an instant, righting his suspender and checking the other for good measure, fixing his collar, running her hands through his hair... he felt giddy, unable to fight the guilty smile on his face. It felt nice, to be doted on like this. The messier he was, the longer she’d have her hands on him.

“What’ve you got to smile about?!” she huffed, turning him around to face the small mirror on his table. He easily let himself be manhandled, glimpsing her contorted expression in the mirror. “It’s there for a reason!”

She moved to leave, but he caught her wrist, lightly tugging her back. He kept his hold soft. Her brow furrowed, but she allowed herself to be stopped, making his heart skip hopefully in his chest.

“I..." he smiled nervously, "I think you missed a spot.” he teased, dragging his other hand through his hair to mess it up again.

Her eyes followed this movement before snapping to his. He widened his smile, attempting to tamp down the anxious energy thrumming beneath its surface. Her gaze softened. She gently removed her wrist from his hold, watching his shoulders sag the slightest amount. It was stupid, he knew. He knew he was making a fool of himself.

“Oh, Arthur,” she sighed, a smile twisting her lips. He felt her hands in his hair, and his eyelids fluttered closed, eager to feel the scrape of her nails against his scalp. “You could’ve just asked.”

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you

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pynkgothicka · 11 months

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ＢｅａｓｔＭｉｇｕｅｌｏ＇Ｈａｒａ

Synopsis - After you sister leaves you to hang with your boss, both his and your lives becoming a waking nightmare

Pairing - Yandere! Miguel o’Hara x Fem! Reader

Featuring - Jessica Drew but the black version cause I luv black women

Tags and Warnings - Stalking, Kidnapping, Violence towards reader

Authors Note - I LUV HIM SM MY GOD. I HADDD TO WRITE SOMETHING. Also I believe this contains slight spoilers??? I think???

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

“Jess! Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? I'm not really spider-like.” You followed behind your sister, her afro swinging as she walked. You fiddled with the band she gave you in order to keep you from glitching out.

It was all so casual, and almost everyone greeted her. The architecture was other worldy, almost only to benefit the inhabitants. Speaking of, there was many, too many to count. 2D, 3D, Male, Female, Pigs, Horses, Cats, almost anything imaginable.

While you looked at it all in amazement, they all looked at you, and gave you dirty and worried looks. At least thats what it looked like under their masks.

“Oh Miguel won't like this…”

“I didn't know they allowed just anyone up here?”

“I mean Peter B brings his daughter so I guess it's a pass."

“I just know Miguel doesn't like anything new. He might bare his fangs or something. You know that guy and sacre tactics.”

You shuddered at the way they spoke of this Miguel guy. But you kept following behind Jessica until she came to a huge hatch, in which opened up on her walking up.

“Miguel!”

“What do you need Jessica, aren't you supposed to be on a mission?”

“I do, but I need you to do a favor!” Jessica yelled, shoving your shoulder to push you ahead. “My sister is visiting from college in my dimension. I need someone to watch over her and I trust you'll do that without letting her get hurt.”

You finally looked up seeing a sharp jawed man looking down at you. His spider suit glew a dark blue with bright red highlights. His brown hair was pushed back, framing his face perfectly. Not only that, but he was huge, built like a giant.

He came down from his workspace, now closer to you than ever. His chest was too your face and you had to look up too look at him. He seemingly almost over analyzed you, eyes trialing up and down your form. “Fine. Just go handle the situation.”

Jessica raised a brow and crossed her arms. “Fine? Just fine? You usually aren't just okay with this type of stuff. You sur-”

“Your questioning my decisions?” Miguel said his stature becoming stiff, seemingly fed up with her constant questioning.

“No… just wondering. Don't have too much fun you two.” Jessica said giving you a small hug before walking off. As the hatch door closed, Miguel's hand went to your back, ushering you to walk with him.

“I'll give you a chair so you can stay within my sight. I don't want to lose you.” You nodded, watching as he turned away from you, going back to his work. A chair was pushed your direction, and when you finally got to sitting down the cushioned seat almost swallowed you whole. You could take a nap if you wanted too, it was just that comfortable. And you almost did, until you were pulled from your rest with a deep voice.

“Did she tell you, or did you piece it together?”

“Huh?"

“Jessica. Did you just figure out she was Spider-Woman?”

Miguel's hands just kept working, his focus divided between talking to you and his work. “To be honest, I just figured it out. When I asked her if what I thought was true, she just seemed relieved and told me everything.”

Miguel seemed surprised at this making a strange humming noise. “You two must be very close huh?”

“Yeah. I wouldn't trade the world for the bond me and her share. I'm glad she trusted me enough to tell me about that side of her life. From what she told me, Spiderman doesn't usually tell people about what he does. It's refreshing you know… I'm sorry am I rambling too much?”

“No. Your fine, I'm actually enjoying the company. I'm in here by myself most of the time. It's nice to hear another voice.” You gave him a small smile in which he returned, smirking at you. He stopped working and his screens switched off. “What do you do for fun?”

“Me? Fun? Uhh I don't know. I'm a college student with just about 0 connections. I guess reading?” You finally chased for a reply.

“LYLA get someone to bring me a book from the library. Hell bring two.” Miguel said, finally an AI woman popping up. She teased him a bit before finally having someone bring you two books. Miguel then sat down next too you beginning to open one of the books he brought.

“Your willing to read with me?”

“Yeah. I need to get my mind off of things anyway.”

🩸

Once Jessica had picked you up, Miguel felt weird. He knew you were attractive. Like very attractive. But that wasn't normal for him. He usually didn't see attraction in people.

Something else he also knew was that when he was around you he felt comfortable. He had no worries and you took them all away. It was a feeling he could only recall when he was with his “daughter.” He'd let you snuggle up close too him, physical touch being something he hadn't felt in a while.

“LYLA. I need you to pull any information on Jessica Drew's sister. It can be from any dimension, I just need to know everything.” Miguel basically ordered the ai. She popped up in front of him, with that same smug look she always gave when questioning his any of his decisions.

“Why would you need that?! It's not like she's ever going to get bitten by a radioactive spider.” LYLA said bringing up a huge collection of information she'd found on you in a heartbeat. “But hey I'll indulge this. Let's see, she's almost always college student, future looks like a journalist, ooh she's judgemental! And just about always single. Seems like her connection to Jessica Drew is always the sisterly role.”

Miguel fell more and more in love the more LYLA talked. “Send all that too my computer.”

“Gotcha! Hopefully this will help you.” LYLA said dissipating away. Miguel stared at the picture of you on one of the screens.

He had to have you. At any means necessary.

🩸

You'd finally saved up for a apartment to where you could stay without the need for dorm mates.

Being a journalism major meant you needed all the focus you could get. And you couldn't find that when around all those people. So you left.

Usually you wrote uplifting pieces for your sister as her and the press don't usually get along well. Even though your pretty sure she knows you wrote majority of her good stories, you also know she'd smile seeing that people appreciated her work.

As you were turned around and began slicing open a box to unpack in your room, a voice boomed from your window. “Hi sweetheart.” From across your room stood a towering Miguel o’Hara. He crawled his way into your room, shutting the window behind him.

“Umm hi Miguel. Are you looking for Jess? She's not here i-” Miguel cut you off.

“I'm not looking for her. I was actually looking for you. I came to talk to you about something.” Miguel started moving closer, slowly stepping towards you. He ducked past your light fixture, finally truly Intimidating you. Something about the way he was coming towards you frightened you. His size almost made it worse.

“Oh. Well of course. You can talk to me about anything.” You trailed off putting your knife to the side, giving Miguel your undivided attention

“I want you to come live with me. At the headquarters. No one has to know. Not even your sister.” He said causally. He was right on you, making you trip and buckle to fall on your bed. You looked up at him, pushing yourself further into the bed.

“That's, crazy Miguel. I can't that, I'm a college student! I don't even know you enough for that!”

"But I know you. I've studied you. Every possibility of you. I know more about you than you know yourself!" You let out a small gasp. This man had been essentially stalking you.

"Miguel. That makes it even worse, the last answer is no. And.... And I need you to go."

“You just don't get it do you?” Miguel's hand hit the wall, claws digging and dragging in the drywall. “I don't think you understand I'm not asking you to do anything. This is me telling you.”

And with that you kicked against him, trying to immobile him at any means possible. You had to find Jessica.

But he grabbed your wrist, trying to drag you to your window. He hoisted you up to his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

“Let go! Let go of me, Jess! Jess please!!” You began to scream out for your sister seeing if maybe, just maybe she was around to help you.

But she wasn't.

No one was.

You started to beat on Miguel's back. He was now out of your window and climbing up the side of your apartment, heading to the roof. “You better stop fighting, this is destiny. Our destiny.” When he finally made it to the roof he put you down and a hexagonal portal appeared as he messed around with his arm band. You began to heave on impact with the hot concrete. Miguel then turned back towards you, watching in amusement as you dragged yourself slowly to get away from him.

“What are you doing?!” Miguel's head snapped as he stared at LYLA who now stood in front of him at full height. “Your pulling the exact same thing you tried before this, before you made the society! Made me!”

"You don't understand. You will never understand."

"I understand more than you will ever know. You need to stop. And you need to stop now!"

You took this as a opening to crawl your way to the nearest side of the building. You could hear Miguel snarl and yell at Layla. But you tried to pay no mind to that as you looked down over the right edge of the building. You saw a metal of the top apartments stairway.

Fuck this would hurt.

Your body hit the metal with a loud bang, the adrenaline wore off as you finally felt all the bruises and gashes you gotten. “Fuck, my god. Jess… Spider-Woman! Plea-” You felt a hand on the back of your neck. Claws dug in to the front, slightly nicking at your neck.

“Where are you going?”

Miguel picked up your body like you weighed nothing. He then carried and slammed you against the nearby wall. When trying to move your hand to tap on the glass pane, Miguel's other hand grabbed at your wrist, immobilizing you. “Miguel please don't do this! Jessica, she's going to look for me I know it jus-”

“Shh My Love… this won't hurt a bit.” Miguel barred his fangs at you opening wide and moving to your neck. And before you could protest he bit deep into it, venom seeping into your veins. You felt woozy, and realized you couldn't move an inch. Just how he wanted you.

“It's all going to be okay Mi Vida. I know exactly what you need... A family. And not just any family. A family with me."

#dark writing #tw dark content #tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere blog #miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere Spiderverse #spiderman atsv #Spotify

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theehoneeybee · 6 months

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Talking in Your Sleep. Chapter 3.

Talking in Your Sleep - Monkey Gone to Heaven

Children went missing at Freddy's in the 80's, forever tainting its reputation.

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

series m.list

< prev next >

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Children screamed and ran through the pizzeria, high off of cheap sugary candy and excitement. Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place had become the go-to place for children's birthday parties and cheap pizza. Food, arcade games, prizes, and of course, the animatronics: it was a kid's dream. Everyone had their favourite member of the Faz-gang. There was Freddy Fazbear, Bonnie the Bunny, Chica the Chicken and Foxy the Pirate. On special occasions, another character would come out. A golden bunny. He was different from the other characters. He was controlled by a person. Someone inside the suit would walk around and entertain the kids when the main gang weren't on. He gave you the creeps. There was just something off about him that you couldn't describe. One of the employees had told you that the bunny was from a different location, and was meant to be part of a duo with a golden bear. You didn't really care for the other animatronics but you tried to stay away from the golden rabbit.

Tucked away in the corner of the main room, you sat at an abandoned table and drew away. Freddy's was your unwanted second home. Your parents worked. A lot. There was little time for them to look after you, and though they could afford to pay a babysitter, they chose to dump you at the pizzeria. Weekends and school holidays, you were there from open to close. More often that not, they forgot to pick you up too, too invested in their work to care about their own child. You couldn't escape the neglect at home, you parents would leave you to your own devices, continuing to work from home. It had taught you to become independent. You knew how to cook, clean and take care of yourself. It wasn't like you had any other choice.

You stared down at the page. The cheap waxy crayons Freddy's provided strewn across the table. Drawing had become your escape. As soon as the colours hit the page, everything else melted away. The sounds of screaming kids, pinball machines and singing animatronics became background noise. It helped you pass the time. Being at Freddy's from 9am to 9pm multiple days a week gets boring quickly. You had managed to get the high score on every arcade game, collected almost every prize available at the counter and tried every pizza flavour. You just wanted to go home.

At least the staff were lovely. Everybody knew you by name, always stopping by to make sure you were doing okay. They sometimes snuck you free ice cream too. You couldn't complain bout that. Seeing you here by yourself so often made them feel horrible. Many of the parents would stare and whisper. What kind of parent leaves there child here? You tried your best to ignore them. On days when your parents would forget to pick you up, someone would stay well past their shift to make sure you get picked up safely, letting you wait inside to avoid the cold weather.

"It's showtime, boys and girls!" a loud voice boomer over the intercom. "Come join Freddy and the gang for their latest song!"

Immediately, a tsunami of children flooded towards the show stage, jumping up and down excitedly as they waited for their favourite animatronics to appear. You didn't look up from your drawing. Colourful strobe lights painted the room as the rhythm of a pop sing started to play, the animatronics mechanically lip-syncing along. The chair across from you was pulled back and you heard the thud of someone sitting down. You peered up slightly from your drawing. Across from you was a girl about your age. Her long, golden blonde hair tied up in cute pig tails, adorned with colourful ribbons. She started at you, bright blue eyes filled with curiosity.

"Do you always sit by yourself?" she asked, you gave her a slow now, not putting down the crayons. The girl shuffled her chair over so she was next to you. "Woah!" she gasped, staring at your drawing. "You're really good!"

You shyly smiled, "Thank you."

"I'm Susan, but everyone calls me Suzie." Suzie offered her hand out for a handshake. After a moment of hesitation, you took it and introduced yourself.

You and Suzie quickly became friends. She came in every Saturday with her family for lunch. You learnt her favourite animatronic was Chica. She would carry around a plush of Carl the Cupcake and wore a shirt that said 'Let's Eat!'. The two of you would draw east pizza and draw together, sticking up your artworks on the wall which were adorned with hundreds of other drawings. Suzie would always insist yours were the best. She made your time at the pizzeria more bearable. You actually looked forward to Saturdays were you would get to see her. Her family was sympathetic towards your situation. In a way, you were jealous of them. All you wanted was a normal family. Parents who actually wanted to spend time with you. They always offered you a ride home, but you couldn't accept. 'My parents will be here soon,' you'd always insist. They were reluctant to leave you, but there was always and employee who's wait and keep you safe. You didn't want to burden them.

One Saturday, Suzie wanted to go watch the show. Chica was going to be performing a Cyndi Lauper song, two of Suzie's favourite things. You decided you would keep drawing then once the show was done, you'd go play arcade games together. The show ended, but Suzie didn't come back. You waited for a few minutes, she had probably just gone to the bathroom. But after fifteen minutes had gone by and Suzie hadn't returned, you started to get worried. Packing up your crayons, you began your search of the pizzeria. You went through every room twice, even checking the bathrooms. Nervously, you decided to approach her parents.

"Hi sweetheart," Suzie's mum greeted you, a kind smile painted on her lips. When she saw the worried look on your face, her face fell to one of concern. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find Suzie."

The next few weeks at the pizzeria were quiet. Cops came and went, searching the pizzeria top to bottom to see if they couldn't find clues to Suzie's disappearance. Her face was plastered all over the news: Young girl goes missing at local pizzeria. Slowly, the investigation slowed as nothing was being uncovered. You didn't want to go back to Freddy's. Your parents would drop you off, kicking and screaming until you had finally had enough. They dropped parents not to take you there. You plea fell on deaf ears.

You stood up, dusting dirt off of your jeans to begin the journey home. You turned around, taking one last look at the sign, Freddy waving with a big grin, illuminated by cheap neon lights. The walk home was long. You kicked rocks along the path, scuffing your shoes in the process, holding onto the straps of your backpack. A faded missing persons poster was taped to a light post. Suzie's familiar face stared at you ,a bright smile adored as if she wasn't missing. You felt your bottom lip tremble, running the rest of the way home.

When you got home, you were out of breath, taking a minute to sit on the porch steps and breathe. You tried to door but it was locked. Somewhere in the garden your parents kept a spare key. For the next half an hour, you searched the plants, turning over rocks and faded gnome statues until you found it. The house was empty. It would still be hours until your parents came home. You didn't care if they would be mad. You refused to go back to the pizzeria.

It was almost 10pm when your parents came home. You were half asleep, laying down on the couch as the TV played quietly in the background. "Why weren't you at Freddy's?" your father asked nonchalantly. He was tired from work, loosening his tie as he entered the living room.

You sat up angrily. "I'm not going back there. Suzie went missing there, you know. I'm not going back!"

Your father groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Whatever, I'm not dealing with you right now. Just stay at home." He walked upstairs, leaving you alone.

You slowly wandered up the stairs to your apartment, lugging bags of groceries up with you. Your arms burnt as the heavy bags gave you a workout. Fumbling with the keys, you managed to make your way inside. As soon as you stepped in, you were greeted by a bundle of letters in the hallway, having been pushed through the rust mail slot in the door. You sighed as you put your groceries away. The fridge was bare aside from a few half-empty condiment bottles. You scooped up the letters and flopped down on the couch, opening them up one by one.

Electricity. Overdue. Gas. Overdue.

The last one made your stomach drop.

Rent. Overdue. Final notice.

Angrily, you threw the bills onto the coffee table. You had until the end of the month to pay this month, plus the back rent or you'd be on the streets. After the events at Freddy's last night, you were planning on calling Steve today to quit but it didn't seem like that was an option now. Even if you took another job during the day, with minimum wage you would never be able to pay it all off. You rubbed your temples, trying to fight of the headache you felt brewing. There wasn't anyone else you could stay with either. Your relationship with your parents was non-existent. The second you turned 18, you left like a bat out of hell. You decided to take a nap before your shift, curling up on the couch, trying to ignore your impending doom.

"Abby, give me my vest." Abby, with Mike's oversized security vest hanging off her shoulders, stood firm. "I'm serious," Mike stated. "Give me the vest."

"No!" Abby protested. "I don't want to stay with Aunt Jane. She smells like cigarettes," she whispered.

Max had gone MIA. She didn't answer any of Mike's calls. He even tried calling her brother but it went straight to voicemail. As a last resort, he called Aunt Jane. Of course, she jumped on any opportunity to make Mike look bad. Oh, you can't take care of Abby? I'm not surprised, I guess I'll gave to do it. Mike grabbed Abby, throwing her over his shoulder. She squealed, banging on Mike's back. After a struggle, Mike managed to steal the vest off of her.

"She's all yours," Mike huffed, grabbing his backpack and heading out the door.

Dread filled his body as he drove to Freddy's. Every cell in his body was telling him to turn around, to call Steve and quit, but Mike powered forward. He needed this job to prove to the court that he was a fit guardian for Abby. If that meant putting himself at risk at a haunted pizzeria, he'd do it. There's nothing he wouldn't do to keep Abby safe. Mike was surprised to see your car when he pulled into the parking lot. He was almost certain you would have quit. You had already opened the pizzeria and were set up in the security office.

The sound of the door opening startled you. "I'm surprised to see you back here," Mike says, putting his backpack into the locker.

"I could say the same for you." Mike wedged the chair under the door, tugging on the handle to make sure it was secure. "Trust me, if I could quit, I would," you said with a sardonic chuckle.

The two of you had an unspoken agreement that you wouldn't be leaving the security office tonight. While the whole pizzeria was a death trap, the security office was the safest room. Mike noted as you anxiously bit your lip. You both sat in silence, eyes glued to the monitors and listening intently for any noises. Mike yawned, almost nodding off as he tried to keep focus on the monitors. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and you noticed his usual undereye bags were even darker than usual.

"You can sleep, y'know," you offered.

Mike immediately shook his head. "No, I don't want you be alone."

"I'll be fine, Mike," you promised. "You really look like you need the sleep. I'll be okay for a couple of hours."

Mike looked between you and the monitors before reluctantly agreeing. He grabbed his cassette player out of his backpack and put his headphones on. You couldn't help the small smirk which formed on your lips. Mike gave your chair a playful kick before settling into his own. You kept a close watch on the monitors, letting Mike get some rest. Your mind couldn't help but wander back to your many bills. Your stomach churned with anxiety. Unable to focus, you decided to properly explore the office. Despite working here for almost three weeks now, you never bothered to properly look through the office. You poured over the shelves, mostly filled with old paperwork and memorabilia. As you checked through the lockers, a bright orange container fell out. Curiously, you picked it up. 'Michael Schmidt,' the label read. 'Triazolam. Take 1-2 before bed.' Sleeping tablets. You glanced over at Mike before carefully putting the bottle back into his backpack. Feeling like you had overstepped a boundary, you quickly took your seat and went back to watching the monitors.

"Garrett!" Mike called out, watching in despair as the navy blue car skidded away. The sound of a twig snapping behind him caught Mike's attention. To his surprise, five young children were standing behind him. The blonde boy stood in front of the rest, staring Mike dead in the eyes.

"What is this?" Who are you?" Mike asked with confusion, looking across the group. T he children didn't move, staring at him in silence. "That car. Did you see who drove that car?" Did you see who took my brother?"

In an instant, the children scattered, running in different directions. This dream was different. They were never different. Every night he would relive the memory of Garrett being taken, but something was wrong this time. Mike began to chase after the blonde boy, following him deeper into the pine forest. Just as he was about to catch up, his foot got caught on a rock, sending him tumbling to the hard dirt below.

"Shit! Are you alright?" you asked, leaning down by Mike's side. He was fast asleep, then the next thing you knew, he had flown out of his chair onto the floor. Mike groaned, rubbing the back of his head as he slowly sat up. He looked around your office, your concerned gaze focused on his face.

"I'm fine," Mike assured. "How long was I asleep for?"

You helped him stand up. "A couple of hours. It's almost six. Did you have a bad dream or something?"

Mike sat back down into his chair with a huff. "Something like that. It happens a lot though. I'm used to it."

Your eyes flickered over to the locker, then back at Mike. You noticed his forehead was bleeding. "You've hit your head. I'll grab the first-aid kit. Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Luckily the first-aid kit was kept in the office so you wouldn't have to venture out. Even though nothing strange had happened tonight, you were still on edge. Kit in hand, you scooted your chair closer to Mike. You pushed his hair out of the way, gently cleaning the wound. It wasn't very deep, just a small cut.

"I'm fine." Mike winced slightly as you cleaned the wound. "Y'know how I have that book on dream theory?" you nodded. "Well, I use it to relive a memory of my brother. When I was younger, he got taken. No one ever found him or who did it."

"I'm sorry," you apologised. Your last day with Suzie came to mind. It had been so long since you thought about her. "So, you're trying to remember if you saw his face?"

Mike nodded. "Not having much luck though."

You finished cleaning his cut and gently placed a bandaid on top. Of course, the only bandaids in the supply box were Freddy Fazbear themed, not that Mike knew that. You tried to hide your smile as you stuck the Foxy bandage to his forehead, letting his hair fall back into place. "All better now."

The alarm on Mike's watched sounded, signalling the end of your shift. You shivered as you stepped out into the cold morning air, locking the rusty metal gates behind you. You decided to sit in your car and watch the sun rise, giving Mike a wave as he drove off. You looked at the Freddy's sign through the rear-view mirror and felt a pang of guilt hit your chest. You knew what it was like to lose someone dear to you. You thought about Suzie and the other kids who went missing. It was unfair that they were taken away. Their families deserved closure. You wanted closure. You started your car and began the drive home in silence.

Tomorrow is another day.

#mike schmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #william afton #michael afton #abby schmidt

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xiihyunn · 10 months

Text

My Confession (18+)

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

warning: christian hypocrisy, religious rebellion, semi-public sex, semi-exhibition, crying, choking, toys, ropes, overstimulation, mommy kink, fingering, spanking, biting/marking, spitting, strap-on, slapping, rough sex, pee, and vibrator.

ⓘ slow burn

summary: — wherein before you take your vows to officially become a nun, you need to confess all your sins to the priest. but what happens if all your sins were unforgivable?

> masterlist

word count: 6.3k

a/n: it might be a bit bad tbh. overall this was the 1st smut that i wrote, and send me some smut requests.

oh btw, men and minors get the fuck out of my blog. ty

Jenna's POV

It was around 11 pm when I finally arrived at my destination, a small village with only at least 2 thousand population max. I got off my motorcycle and tied up my hair, rolled up my sleeves, and wore the crucifix necklace I had.

I grabbed my suitcase and began walking to a certain house, though this area was foreign to me, I was called multiple times because of a demon possessing a boy.

I was the 1st female exorcist in the church, since the Vatican was obviously misogynistic. They argued whether or not to make me an exorcist or just a demonologist with psychic abilities, in the end, the ministers couldn't deny that my abilities were way beyond what they already had.

Making me an exorcist was the best decision they could make. Hence they didn't regret how I successfully exorcized nearly 167 demons in a span of 5 years.

But that doesn't mean I get to get away with everything I'll be doing, even though I was heavily favored by the church herself.

"That's a beautiful pig." I said to a guy I paid to bring it. He chuckled and drank a bottle of beer, "Only the best, Father." he groggily said.

I was a female yes, but the ministers ordered me to be addressed as Father Ortega, to... continue the culture.

I opened the door to a small house, only one light was on and the rest of the light I saw was from the lit candles. The room felt uneasy and quiet.

"This way, Father." A fellow priest said, leading me to the dining room where a small girl, her mom, and her dad were sitting and looking at me. I placed my suitcase on the table nearby and the priest filled me in on what happened to the possessed boy.

"The boy is showing all the classical signs of possession, Father Ortega," the priest said, panicking and beads of sweat dripping down his face. "Has the family consulted a doctor?" I asked, looking at the people at the dining table.

"Many, many doctors." The priest sounded persistent that this was much more serious than we expected. "What are the signs of possession?" I said as I grabbed his shoulder and looked at him. "He converses in English, Father." He was shaking and before I could answer, a noise was heard on the door near the dining room.

I looked at the door, "Has he spoken English before?" I asked, not breaking my gaze on the door. "Never. Not even before." he said. "Do they own a television?" I asked. "Y-yes, I believe so." He stuttered as he looked around.

I breathed out and patted his shoulder, "Okay, thank you." He nodded at me and I went over to the girl sitting on the chair, and drawing something on the table. "Hey there, do you mind telling me what are you drawing?" I looked over at her shoulder trying to look at the picture.

"A bird," The kid said, I hummed and sat next to her. "Really? That's good, kid." I grabbed the match laying on the table, and lit it. "I have a very important job for you," I lit up the candle in front of her.

She looked at me and nodded slowly, "Do you know 'Our Father' ?" I asked. "Yes Father," She replied. "Good." As I blow out the burning match. "You can help your brother, and repeat 'Our Father, over and over. Don't get distracted. Relentless. Understood?" I said as I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She smiled faintly, "Yes, Father."

"Good." Then we proceed to recite it together.

After we were done, I told the priest to come over. "Bring me the pig." I told him. He nodded fastly and left the house, then screaming from the door followed.

—

I opened the door, and was greeted by a young man tied up to his bed, grunting, screaming, and growling all at once. His eyes were red and so was the flesh near them.

He was filled with sweat and was moving around, trying to break free from the ropes. I made the sign of the cross, then placed my suitcase on the desk. I was opening it when he suddenly spoke.

"I am Legion,"

And clicking sounds were heard from his mouth. I looked at him weirdly.

"What is this? The Last of Us?" I thought to myself.

"I am Satan," He said again as his eyes rolled back to his head.

"I am foul-mouthed Behemoth."

I smirked at this phase and sat on the chair near him, I wiped the Totem of the Vatican symbol using my shirt and faced him.

"It's difficult to believe." I said blatantly. His head stood up in an instant and looked at me, looking mad.

"You doubt me?"

"If you are Satan, what is my name?" I asked the demon. He sat up and tried to get near my face, but the ropes were keeping him in place.

He growled at me, "I won't say shit to a dickless whore." He laughed while looking into my eyes. "I know what you are Sister, you and me, we're the same."

Tugging his hands from time to time, he never stopped looking at me. "Foul-mouthed indeed." I raised both of my brows at him. "Describe hell," I challenged him.

He laughed maniacally, throwing his head up, and continued laughing. He stopped abruptly, snapped his head back looked at me, and said, "You will find out soon eno-"

"Are you avoiding my question?" I stopped him, he lunged at me, or at least tried to.

"YOU MOCK ME!?"

His voice was disoriented and rough. Before he could say anything more, I showed him my Totem.

He went back for a bit and his face scrunched in fear. He stared at it intensely as I moved the Totem side by side, and his eyes followed it.

"Answer me, Satan." I ordered him. "Why possess this boy? Why not someone more influential?" I stared at him. He tilted his neck at a 90-degree angle, making a snapping noise.

He kept moving his head and said slowly,

"I can possess anyone I choose." Desperate for me to believe him, he was acting like a kid who was telling his mom that he had superpowers.

I lowered the Totem down and hummed then nodded sarcastically.

Just then I heard an oink behind me, "Could you possess Father Gianni?" I asked him in a questionable tone. I felt the priest nervously looking at me, scared that he'll get possessed if the demon wanted to, and me egging the demon on was making him shit his pants.

"ANYONE! ANYTHING!"

He screamed, and his spit was flying on the bed sheets. I shook my head while chuckling, "That is not the case, I do not believe you could even possess this pig."

I mocked him while looking at the pig, he started shaking his head then his whole body followed afterward. He snapped his neck to look at the pig and faced it, he kneeled on the bed and started convulsing while staring at the animal.

"Can you do it? You have the power!"

The boy growled and started screaming at the poor pig, "Could you possess the pig?" I asked him once more. His lips twitched to a smirk, "Yes, I can."

His pride was eating him, and it was eating him up good.

"Come on, Satan." I calmly said, giving him the idea that I did not believe him any second.

"WATCH ME!"

Father Gianni was looking at the boy with panic in his eyes, muttering Latin prayers quietly.

"Possess the pig. Show me you are the Prince of Darkness!"

His eyes turned white completely and kept screaming while pulling the ropes. He was almost standing and his chest was out, more growls and screams were heard as he screamed one last time.

"Have you done it, Satan? Have you possessed the pig?" I screamed at him.

"SHOW ME!"

The boy suddenly dropped back onto his bed, and I gave the signal to the man holding the pig.

A gunshot was suddenly heard and pig blood scattered all over the place. It splashed on Father Gianni's face and mine too.

"AHHHH!" The priest screamed, wiping the blood off his face. I held the boy's face and he was whimpering. "Be calm, God blesses you." I told him softly.

Father Gianni's face was in shock, looking around at what the fuck just happened.

"You can sleep now, my son. The demon has gone." His eyes were slowly forming tears, he cried in my hands as I caress his face.

"Dios está contigo"

Then he finally blacked out.

—

"How is it that I am suddenly worthy of the time and attention of all you powerful men?" I was sitting in a chair, crossing my legs and my arms looking at the 5 ministers in front of me.

"On the night of June 4th in the town of Tropea, you performed an exorcism, without the approval of the Reggio Calabria Bishop." One of the ministers said, Father Gabe, with venom and anger in his voice.

"What are you pointing at, Father?" I asked him, licking my dry lips in the process. "From Father Gianni's description, what occurred in Reggio Calabria sounded exactly like an exorcism, complete with animal sacrifice, no less."

I guess that bitch of a priest is throwing me under the bus now, knowing it was his friend's son who got possessed and asked me to perform an exorcism without the church's approval.

But I guess I was too dumb enough to agree with him.

"Yes, I performed the exorcism. So what's your point here, Father?" I was starting to get impatient, I already confessed to my 'wrongdoing, can he just tell me what he wants now?

"You addressed the subject as Satan, called him to display his power. Do you deny this?" The other ministers just listened to what Father Gabe said.

Is he fucking for real right now?

"Father Gabe, since when have I denied your statements?" I asked him, he looked furious and stood up.

"Respect your superiors, Father Ortega!" He pointed his finger at me and screamed, I scoffed at him.

"This is the work of a devil, of course I would exorcize the boy. Now tell me, what is your point?" I furrowed my brows at him and he sat back down and exhaled.

"The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has recommended this panel, that the position of the Chief Exorcist be formally vacated." He smirks at me, locking his hands together.

"So, what you are saying is that evil does not exist?" I asked him calmly.

"The church is under constant pressure to sharpen her relevance. It's time we move past these outdated beliefs."

"Explain to me please, Your Eminence..." He sighs in annoyance as he looks over to the other ministers. "If evil does not exist, what is the role of the church?" The other ministers look at Father Gabe, telling him to revoke his command of vacating my position.

He looks at them with a small frown on his face. He had enough and stood up again.

"I WARN YOU. I WARN YOU, FATHER ORTEGA. TO SHOW SOME RESPECT TO YOUR SUPERIORS."

I stood up, fed up with his voice and useless proposals.

"I DO! I AM THE CHIEF EXORCIST OF THE VATICAN, MY POSITION WAS APPOINTED BY MY BISHOP. MY DIOCESE IS ROME, AND MY LOCAL BISHOP IS THE POPE."

Father Gabe looked shocked by how I screamed at him, he sat back down and threw his papers on the table.

"If you have a problem with me, you talk to my boss. Okay?" I drank the coffee that they gave me in one big gulp and walked out.

—

Your POV

It was a peaceful afternoon and I was taking my daily after prayers as someone busted through my door.

"OMG Y/N! Did you hear? Father Ortega has returned!" Emma, she was my co-novitiate. I was not done with my prayer yet and continued muttering the words.

"defende nos in proelio..."

"Oh," I felt her kneeling beside me and doing the sign of the cross, joining me in my prayer. I held out my hand to her and she held it.

"contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.,"

"Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur."

"tuque, Princeps militiae caelestis, in virtute Dei, in infernum detrude satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,"

"Amen."

We both ended the prayer of protection by Saint Michael the Archangel with the sign of the cross. We both stood up and sat on my bed, I looked at her.

"What was it again Emma?" I asked her, she had a huge smile on her face and started fanning herself. "Father Ortega is here! She's here right now in the Monastery Office!"

She told me with excitement in her voice. I giggled from what she said, "Emma, I know those thoughts are impure." I told her. Emma pouts at me and crosses her arms, "Aw c'mon, cut me some slack. I won't be able to satisfy my human desires once we take our vows tomorrow."

She laid down on my bed and sighs, "Your faith was decided the second you agreed into becoming a novitiate, so why complain?" I looked at her waiting for her answer. She frowned at me, "Aw y/n/n you're no funnnn."

I laughed at her response, "Sister Alciana is waiting for us in the garden, let's go." she groaned in annoyance and stood up. "Alright, let's go."

—

"You both will be taking your vows tomorrow, correct?" Sister Alciana was in front of us in the walk through garden, we were walking together side by side, me on her right and Emma on her left.

"Yes, Sister. Tomorrow is finally our day." Emma replied to her, she held Emma's hands and kissed them. "God will always be with you."

She lets go of her hands and holds mine next, Sister Alciana smiles at me. "Y/n, you will be a great nun that will serve the Lord Himself. Your pure soul will help the helpless, and your holiness will help and guide the unholy."

My eyes lit up by what Sister Alciana said, I felt her hands tighten on my hands and then she kissed them.

"Sister Alciana! It's been a while!" A voice was heard behind us and I saw two figures heading our way.

A man shook Sister Alciana's hands and smiled at her. "Father Oano, it truly has been a while." But I was too busy to listen in on their conversation as I spotted an all too familiar figure behind him, it was her, Father Ortega.

I looked at her and she was already looking at me with a small grin, hands in her pockets. She shamelessly took her time to check me out. I bit my lip and gave her a head nod, and she returned it back with a smile.

Sister Alciana smiled and turned to look at both of us. "Girls, this is Father Oano, a long friend of mine and the priest who will be taking your vows."

"Nice to meet you Father Oano." I stuck my arm out at him and he gave me a firm handshake, Emma did the same and we both bowed at him. "So these are the two future nuns who you told me about? It's a pleasure to meet them." He said to Sister Alciana.

"Yes, these are my two lovely girls who will soon serve the Lord." Sister Alciana smiles at him. Father Oano took something from his pocket and gave me and Emma a small box.

"This is my early present for the both of you, for sacrificing so much just to serve Him." I opened the small box and it was a rosary inside.

Wait, isn't this the Vatican's symbolic Rosary?

I heard Emma gasp, she took the Rosary off the case and held it out to the sun, the golden beads shone brightly under the light. "The Vatican's symbolic Rosary." She said, looking in disbelief.

"Thank you so much, Father Oano. This means so much to us." I told him, he looked down flustered by our thanks and shook his head. "It's no biggie girls."

"Oh my, isn't this... Father Ortega?" Sister Alciana suddenly spoke, looking behind Father Oano. Emma snapped her head at the figure behind the priest.

"Ah yes, she was once my student in my Demonology class, and now she's officially an Exorcist." Father Oano threw his arm around Father Ortega's shoulder, she laughed and nodded.

"The one and only, Sister." She gave Sister Alciana a hand shake. "Not just an Exorcist, but the Chief Exorcist of the Vatican!" Emma said she was so happy to see her, a huge smile was visible on her face.

"You all fluster me," She giggled and looked shyly on the floor. "I've heard so much about you Father Ortega." Sister Alciana locks her hands together and smiles at her.

"Good things I hope, Sister." Father Ortega scratches the back of her neck and awkwardly smiles. "It was more than good actually," Sister Alciana replied and laughed.

"You girls should be going, I have a private matter to discuss with Father Oano." Father Oano looked at Sister Alciana and nodded, they both looked a bit serious so it must be talked between the both of them.

I looked at Jenna and she looked at me, "We should go." Emma said behind me, I nodded at her, "We'll take our leave Father Oano, and Sister Alciana. We'll see you when we see you." We all took a look at each other and waved, after that, the 3 of us walked out the walk through garden.

—

"Sister Y/n, I need to talk to you about a new case I'm going to be doing next week." Jenna broke the silence between us when we were already inside the Monastery, I signaled Emma to leave both of us alone and she quietly left.

"Your office?" I asked Jenna, a blush was present in her cheeks and nodded.

—

Jenna opened the door to her office and we both entered the room. Once she closed the door, she walked over to me and pulled my waist to kiss me.

3rd person POV

You weren't surprised at what Jenna did, instead you held her face and kissed her back. Her arms were wrapped around your torso and kissing you passionately.

You break off the kiss and look at her, she looks absolutely stunning with her hair in a ponytail. She had a huge smile on her lips and looked at you lovingly.

She moved her face closer to you and placed her forehead against yours, you smiled widely and your eyes met her lips once more.

"I miss you so much Jenna," you whispered, she could smell your minty breath and she licked her lips. "I miss you too Y/n, It's been 3 months since I've held you this close."

You hummed and closed your eyes, enjoying your girlfriend's presence. "Your taking your vows tomorrow?" She said as she kissed my forehead and I rested my head on her neck. "Sadly, yes." I sighed and looked up at those hazel eyes.

"Don't be sad about it darling, I do need a personal nun for my exorcist." She looks down at me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear while smiling at me.

"But I can't marry you then." I wrapped my arms around her neck and played with her hair. She kissed me again and mutters,

"I don't need a paper to tell me my love for you is real."

I ran out of breath kissing her and exhaled, before I could even inhale back, she kissed me again but more deeper this time.

Her hands roaming around my lower waist and she pulls me closer to her, she bites my lip and I give out a small moan against her lips and allow her to insert her tongue inside of my mouth.

—

3rd person POV

It was the next day, you woke up completely bare and in the arms of Jenna, you slightly cough because of the dryness of your throat. "Baby?" You heard her calling you, you looked up at her while your eyes were still squinting, adjusting to the brightness of the room.

You hummed at her and further borrowed your face into her breasts, you smiled at the warmth they gave your face. You hear Jenna chuckling at you, "Time to get up, you're taking your vows today remember?"

You whined and shook your head, but it didn't take long for you to shoot up her bed and stare at her naked and hair down form, "Oh shit it's today!" She had a funny smirk on her face and sat up on the headboard, she crossed her arms and tilted her head to look at you.

"You're gonna work for me and only me darling." Jenna smirks at you, only for you to roll your eyes at her. You crawled over to her and pecked her lips.

"Oh yeah? What if we'll get a case where the profound demon knows all our secrets? It won't be so fun now, would it, Father Ortega?" She looks at your lips and grabs your neck, pulling you closer to her face.

"Then let the demon know you're all mine, Querida." Jenna was about ready to have sex with you again but you pushed her back on the headboard, "Your breath stinks Jenna, disgusting." You laughed at her and got out of bed, going into the shower.

She shook her head in disbelief and giggled. Jenna won't be able to marry you, but that doesn't mean she won't put a ring on your finger.

—

Your POV

"Before I take your vows, you must confess all your sins to me first. Then after the confession, God will accept you as his bride." Father Oano told me, he gave me a white veil to put over my head.

He nodded at me and went inside the confession room, "Gather your thoughts first, and confess everything that you have sinned against the heavens, and God himself. Take your time, soon to be Sister Y/n." I felt him softly smiling at me and I breathed in and out slowly, I gave my final exhale then went inside.

It was a cold room, with dim red lights in them. I kneeled down at the pew, holding my Rosary tightly, as goosebumps were forming on my skin.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." I did the sign of the cross and calmed my nerves down.

Beads of sweats were rolling down my face, and I gripped my Rosary.

"Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been a month since my last confession."

"Forgive me mommy, for I have been a naughty girl."

My heartbeat was beating loudly, to the point that I could hear them in my ears.

"These are my sins."

Jenna presses herself into you, her tongue deep inside your lips as you try to suppress your groans. Chest to chest, she pushed her legs in between your thighs, electing a moan from you. You break off the kiss trying to catch your breath, but she slams her lips back to where they were before.

You tilt your head to meet her kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, she caresses your waist under your clothes using her right hand and slowly goes up to your tits.

Your soft moans were looming around in her bedroom, she trails her kisses down to your neck and collarbones, leaving small red spots along the way while playing with your boobs.

You started grinding slowly on her lap, trying to relieve some heat between your legs, Jenna undid the buttons on your clothes, not disconnecting her lips on your now wet flesh.

She unzips your long skirt, leaving you in your bra and undies. "Jump." Jenna's voice was domineering and controlling, you jump and wrap your legs around her waist as she puts you in her bed, cradling on top of you.

You tugged on her hair as she hit a particular spot on your neck, you bucked your hips along with a throaty moan as she kept assaulting that spot.

She stops and straddles you, she removes her black colored suit along with her white t-shirt and pants, leaving both of you half naked on the bed.

Jenna smirks at you below her, your half lidded eyes, you catching your breath, hair scattered along her bedsheets and the visible red marks on your neck down to your collarbones.

"My art looks beautiful," Jenna whispers, touching the marks on you. She removes your bra and sucks on your right nipple like a hungry child ready to suck her mommy dry.

Her right hand is playing with the other jugular, and you throw your head back at the pleasure. Your chest is rising up and down as you feel her right hand trailing your stomach, slowly going down to your cunt.

She bites your nipple and you slightly flinch at her teeth making contact with it. She rubs your wet cloth slit, up and down and smirks looking at you, "Look how wet you are for me sweetheart." Jenna removes your panties and settles herself between your legs.

You bit your lip and looked at her lustful eyes as she prised your legs open, revealing your drenched pussy. You wanted to keep your dignity and unconsciously tried to cover the wetness with your hands, and close your legs.

Jenna slaps your face, "Sluts like you need to know your place." She roughly pinned both of your hands above your head and opened your legs again using her other hand. You whimper at the burning feeling of her slap. But God forbid, it made you feel hotter.

"I wonder what Sister Alciana will think about you, knowing her favored novitiate is going to be fucked senseless by me." Jenna's fingers run your wet folds, her palm touching your clit from time to time. You were too focused on her fingers when you didn't notice your wrist being tied up to the headboard.

She lets go of your hands and touches your inner thighs, "So wet and hot for me baby..." Jenna mutters, she inserted two fingers inside of you, feeling the wet, tight and warm walls. You moan at her fingers and she begins moving them at a pace.

"Your cunt misses me too, how cute," Your wetness is starting to run down your ass as you breathe heavily and close your eyes, her pace wasn't enough for you and you were desperate for Jenna to ruin you. Your hips start to meet her thrust, and Jenna stops.

"Ah-ah. Only good girls get to do that, are you a good girl for me Y/n?" You opened your eyes to look at her, Jenna saw your blushing mess of a face, and you nodded.

"Y-yes Jenna, I-I've been a good girl. Please.." You begged for it, for her to corrupt your innocent soul. Jenna smirks and starts pumping her fingers inside of you fast. You were taken back but the pleasure was all you could think about.

"J-Jenna! Fuck yes!" She went down and sucked your nipples, and wet slapping noises were heard in every motion that she did. "Not my name, princess." Her palms hit your clit and you moaned further, she bit your nipple harder and you threw your head back in pleasure.

"Mommy.." Jenna looks up at you and kisses your lips, "Yes, just like that Y/n. Moan for me and only for your mommy, got it?" Jenna hit the right spot in you and you nodded your head and moaned louder. "Yes! Right t-there!" Jenna opened your legs wide, she went down and licked your clit.

Her fingers hitting the right spot over and over again, and her mouth taking good care of your clit. You bite your lip hard trying not to scream in pleasure as Jenna pounds her fingers into you.

Jenna feels you tighten around her fingers and look up at you, mouth open, eyes close and hair sticking to your face.

Was this the same person in front of Sister Alciana, Father Oano and Emma a while ago? The same person who is going to take her vows tomorrow?

Her fingers went deeper inside you as your orgasm was building up, she bit your clit and added another finger. "Cum for me, Y/n."

You moan her name one last time as your back arches and your pussy convulsing, your arousal seeping out of you as Jenna removed her fingers, and her tongue dug in your walls, lapping up all your juices impatiently.

Jenna sits up with your cum juices glistening under the light on her chin and lips, she bites her lips looking at you, your legs spread wide open and a full view of your wet cunt. She removes the clothes left behind on herself, and despite your blurry vision, you see her getting something from her drawer.

You tried to open your eyes to see what she was doing, but her fucking you after a long time of being away, you couldn't. "On your stomach." Jenna says, you tried rolling over on your stomach but you felt your lower region aching, shooting a pain to your pussy directly. You mellled on the pain and Jenna was becoming impatient.

She forced you onto your stomach and you cried in pain, "So fucking slow." She scowls, she pushed herself onto you latched her teeth on your skin, in every surface of your back, she bites and marks you everywhere. Your back is tainted with purple bruises and marks, you choke out a sob at the pain not only on your area but now also on your back.

"Devine... Now ass up, baby." You were about to put your ass up for her, but again she forcefully brought your ass up herself and you feel something hard hitting your ass checks.

You moan in pain and pleasure. With a belt on Jenna's hands she touches the red spot on your ass, lust in her eyes she brings up the belt high and spanks you with force.

You flinch hard at the impact and let out a cry. It hurts so much but feels so good, you feel yourself getting wetter, your juices running down your thighs at this point.

Jenna laughs at this sight, and a wide smirk plastered on her face. You feel a cold and hard material rubbing against your cunt as you hummed at the feeling.

Jenna aligns the tip of her strap on your entrance, coating the plastic dick with your slick. She grabs the base of the toy and thrusts her cock inside of you. Both of you moan at the feeling.

The sound of skin slapping and moans leaving your throat was overwhelming, she hisses as she sets the pace. Jenna death grips your waist, pushing your body in her dick. Your walls throb with anticipation as you feel another slap to your ass.

Tears fall in your eyes, your lips are bleeding from you biting them. You gasp as Jenna bites your nape, the pleasure doubling from her bite, as she fucks you against her mattress. "You're doing so well, Y/n..." Pushing her hips further in you, your arms give out and your face hits her pillows.

"Taking mommy in so well, princess..." Jenna reaches for your nape and pushes her hands, choking you from behind. Your eyes widen from the lack of oxygen, making you feel high, and dizzy. She pounds into you, fast and unsympathetic of her actions. Hitting all the right spots inside of you, you moan loud and good, showing off your incredible vocal cords.

You feel yourself tightening against her cock, your and walls clit convulsing at her cock touching your cervix. Jenna notices this and, "You wanna cum, baby?" Her tone was playful and filled with excitement, she fucks you deeper and faster as if it wasn't enough already.

She slams again and again, smiling at your state, head to the side struggling to breathe, your whines and throaty moans, but all though you were on the verge of passing out and overstimulating, you slam yourself against her cock desperate for your own release.

She holds your waist tighter and with a final slam, your body shakes violently as you feel an abnormal amount of liquid gushing out of you, squirting onto her mattress, Jenna looks down with pride.

She made you squirt, and she was more than fucking happy with it.

"Y/n?" You snapped back to reality as you heard Father Oano's voice, you randomly bucked your hips forward, making a sound.

"Y/n? Are you alright?" You hear Father Oano's voice again, you breathe heavily and nodded, as if he could see you.

"Y-yes! Yes, Father. I-I'm just getting a bit emotional..." You faked sniffing. You heard Father Oano hum, "Do not be ashamed of your sins, Y/n, for the Lord is merciful and he will show mercy to those who deserve it."

It has been hours, and you still found yourself getting fucked by Jenna, with multiple orgasms you've had, you were going in and out of consciousness as you felt her biting your neck.

"J-Jenna... Please, no more..." You whimper at her touch. Jenna didn't listen, instead, she slammed her lips onto yours, earning a moan from your mouth. The overstimulation was getting into you and you started crying in pain, you scratched Jenna's back, too lost in her pounding inside of you like there's no tomorrow.

Your pelvic sore from the prologue of your legs over her shoulders and she slams deeper. "I'm not done with you, Mon cher" With each thrust you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, Jenna stops kissing you and goes down to your tits, sucking, biting and squishing your nipples.

"You don't know how many times I've touched myself without you, baby. Those 3 months were too long for me not being able to touch you..." Jenna looks at you, her hair sticking to her skin, as she pants.

"Now that you're here with me..." She takes her dick out, "I can fuck you whenever I want to..." She slams it inside of you again. You throw your head back with an uncomfortable look on your face, tears rolling down your face, and you can't help but moan.

"Open your mouth, Y/n. I have a present for you, for being so good to our Lord and Savior...." You look at Jenna and all you could see was lust in them, you opened your mouth and Jenna gathered her saliva, and spit inside of your lips.

Her spit made direct contact with the back of your throat, making you choke, but as you were about to cough it out, Jenna grabs your neck and presses down.

You tried stopping her choking you, but your hands were bound. Jenna grabs both of your legs and throws them over her shoulders again as they are slowly falling down the mattress. She rolls her hips at a certain angle, and your eyes roll over your head.

Mouth agape, Jenna spits inside again. Your stomach turns as your orgasm comes crashing down, you felt yourself cumming but a warm liquid coming out of your clit was too embarrassing to not notice.

Jenna slowly removes her strap and kisses your forehead, "You're alright, Y/n." She lays both of your legs down on the bed, and you whimper from the pain. Jenna caresses your face and wipes your tears away.

"Close your eyes and sleep, I'll take care of you, princess." You slowly open your eyes and see Jenna softly smile at you and you smile back. "Jenna..." You whisper, she hums and kisses your temple. "Yes, baby?"

"I love you."

And you black out from exhaustion, Jenna smiles widely and looks at you lovingly.

"I love you too, Y/n."

"Forgive me Father, for I was fucked by Father Ortega last night," You mumbled to yourself. "I can't quite catch you, Y/n." Father Oano said, "Forgive me Father, for I squirted so hard for her.." You mumbled again.

"I'm gonna need you to speak up a bit louder for our Lord to hear them." Father Oano's voice was calm and understanding.

You feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, your panties drenched with wetness. You held out a moan, and started panting faintly. Your head was spinning and your legs started shaking, you felt yourself almost at your high as you finally said.

"Forgive me Father, for I have a vibrator up my cunt right now that Father Ortega placed this morning."

"What?"

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lesbianpepsi · 10 months

Text

Fuck it I love you | part II

pairing: sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: When paired with Tara Carpenter for a project you were expecting a B or maybe even an A. Not falling in love with Tara's older sister, Sam.

series masterlist

words: 2.627k

warnings: light swearing, reader is a oblivious idiot,

authors note: i love y'all, remember to stay hydrated and stay safe:)

You have been going to the Carpenter apartment quite frequently after your first visit there; the nervous first time going over there jitters you had completely vanished. Your and Tara’s progress on the project had decreased but neither you cared, especially you.

On the second week of heading over to Tara's place it was hotter than usual in New York.

The sun danced in the clear blue skies as it warmed up the world to a heat that border-lined into uncomfortable.

Sighing dramatically you dropped your head till it collided with the table with a thud.

"It's too hot to be working." You grumbled through the avalanche of pieces of papers and notebooks that filled up the dining room table.

Tara giggled, clearly amused as she stopped writing for a second. "It's hot but bearable."

You shook your head against the table, tilting your head to the side to get a look at her. "It's not bearable, i'm sweating like a pig."

"You're not sweating like a pig, you're just being dramatic." She quipped back with a smile, looking at you with raised eyebrows.

Rolling your eyes you picked your head back up, sitting up straight on the wooden chair again. "You say dramatic, I say the truth."

She chuckled as she began writing again on the paper, her penmanship unbelievably much better than yours.

"If you're that hot then there's a watermelon in the fridge, feel free to cut some slices." You didn't hesitate another second before you jumped up from your seat and headed towards the kitchen.

Opening the magnet covered fridge you quickly spotted the half cut watermelon wrapped in a thin layer cling film, with a greedy smile you took it out of the fridge before gently placing it on the closet cutting board.

"You want a slice?" You asked, turning back to look at her, she turned to look at you, nodding her head with a little smile. "Please."

Turning back to look at the watermelon you unwrapped it, tossing the plastic to the side as you eyed up the wooden knife block.

Each knife grew in size at every slit made in the box, you opted for the largest knife. A satisfying noise filled your ears as you pulled out the sharp knife, the blade glistening from the sunlight directing into the apartment window.

Skilfully you sliced a few slices of watermelon for you and Tara, placing the two slices on a plate. You were about to begin cleaning up when you heard a laugh from the other room, your eyes widened as you remembered who else was here.

Sam!

Maybe Sam, Mindy and Chad would want some watermelons, you thought to yourself, a nervous smile growing on your face as you thought of Sam.

The woman practically lived in your mind ever since you met her, her grumpy glare never failing to light up your day.

Without another thought you walked over towards the living room, the sound of laughter getting louder as you entered.

"Sam?" You asked gingerly with a nervous smile still on your face. At the sound of your voice the trio turned to look at you, their eyes widening dramatically as they froze.

Sam's eyes are glued to your hand before they lock with your eyes, her dark eyes cold and wary.

You noticed Chad moving his arm over Mindy as he used his large build to hide most of her, as if he's hiding her away from you as they shuffled backwards.

"Would you like a slice?" You asked her with a joyful smile, completely unaware of the panic rising between the trio. Not noticing how dark your innocent words could be heard as.

"I've cut some watermelon slices if you'd like one, and you two can have some too of course."

Sam's eyes flicked back down to the knife in your hand as the blade glistened with a light red liquid, dripping onto the floor.

"Watermelon?" She questioned as she slowly stood up, not moving closer towards you. You nodded your head, your smile growing nervously as Sam actually interacted with you.

"Yeah!" Without thinking you raised your hand which carried the knife to point towards the kitchen. "I could go and get them if you'd like?"

Sam glanced over your shoulder and into the doorway of the kitchen. "Tara?" She yelled with a small wobble to her voice.

You cocked your head to the side confused as to why she was asking for Tara.

"Yeah?" Tara replied from the kitchen, not bothering to get up. "Are you okay?" She asked, her dark eyes returning back to yours. You smiled sweetly at her, she glared heavily at you.

A dull sound from the kitchen rang throughout the room before Tara joined the rest of you in the living room.

It didn't take a genius to understand why Sam is so confused.

"Y/n, what're you doing with the knife?" Tara asked as she looked between you and the wet knife. You waved your hand back to the kitchen, the blade skimming past your cheek. Tara's breath hitched momentarily at your carelessness with the knife in your hand.

"I was cutting up the watermelons?" You explained, confused to why you are getting so many questions that didn't answer your question; did Sam want a watermelon slice?

Tara sighed as she took the knife from your hand, glancing at Sam who visibly looked much more relaxed with you no longer holding the knife.

"Go get your slices, Y/n." She said with a laugh. You nodded your head as you headed towards the kitchen to grab the plate full of slices for everyone.

—————

The 'Watermelon incident' - as Tara called it- got you suspended from the apartment for two days.

When Tara told you that you were royally confused and even slightly hurt, but when you thought about the situation the more you realised how concerned and even angry that must've made the twins and Sam. You couldn't help but feel bad as you texted your apologies to everyone through Tara. She found the situation humorous but Sam certainly didn't.

"Wanna come to the gym with me?" Melanie -your best friend- asked you randomly as she paused the movie the two of you have been watching for the past hour.

You give her a disgusted look. "The gym? Why the hell would you wanna go to the gym on a Saturday?" You asked her, completely bewildered by the idea. Saturdays are for being lazy and relaxing, not working out so on Sunday you'll be sore and uncomfortable.

Melanie shrugged her shoulders. "I need to get started on my New Year's resolution."

"It's July." You say.

"And? I already know that." The blonde replied as if you're the idiot. "You haven't been to the gym at all this year and you decide halfway through the year to begin your resolutions?"

She rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. "Going to the gym at least five times was my resolution, not live there. I think I'd actually die if I went there consistently."

You chuckled as you smiled at her. Melanie grinned as she slapped her knees, standing up.

"Is that a yes?"

You scoffed, shaking your head. "No way."

She groaned as she grabbed your hands attempting to pull you up, but you weren't budging.

"C'mon, I'm bored and all we've been doing today is listen to you talk about Sam and how excited you are for the Barbie movie."

"Two very valid and fun topics." You defend as you pull your hands back. Melanie didn't give up as she kept trying to tug you up. "For you. I've never even met this Sam you're obsessed with."

Your stance weakened at her slight dig at your crush, at that Melanie swiftly pulled you to your feet. Ignoring the fact Melanie won the game of tug of war you crossed your arms over your chest.

"I am not obsessed with Sam." You said with weak authority. The blonde raised her eyebrows teasingly as she mimicked your stance. "Oh yeah? Prove it. Come to the gym with me instead of lounging here and talking about Sam."

You clenched your jaw as you debated your options. If you stayed in your shared apartment then all you'd do is create fake scenarios about you and Sam while listening to Lana Del Rey and you'd prove Melanie right. If you went with her to the gym you certainly would be distracted from Sam plaguing your thoughts due to the fact you'd be dying.

There was simply no winning.

With a sigh you nodded your head weakly, your pride getting the best of you.

"Fine, I'll come with you." Melanie's smug smile urges you to take back your words but before you get the chance she's already grabbing at your wrist and dragging you towards your room.

"Get changed and for the love of god please bring a big ass water bottle with you. I'll meet you in my car."

You grumble out a response but do what she asked you to do. You didn't have many "gym" clothes so you simply decided on a pair of shorts and a shirt that were dark enough so they wouldn't reveal your sweat stains.

Once you had filled the large bottle of water you double checked you had your phone and wallet before meeting Melanie in her car. She was already inside it and behind the wheel as Korn played loudly.

"We'll have fun, I promise." She reassured you as she started to drive towards the gym. You scoffed as you nodded your head. "Yeah sure."

Melanie and you arrived at the gym after twenty minutes, her being ecstatic to finally actually use her gym membership card.

"Alright, what should we do first?" Melanie asked you as you two entered the surprisingly quiet gym.

"I don't know about you but I'm heading towards the treadmill." You replied as you walked over to the treadmill section without waiting for her response.

You hear her groan from behind you with footsteps following you soon after.

From the view on the treadmill it gave you further access to use the entire gym.

A myriad of different people doing various different activities that you admired greatly, impressed by these strangers who clearly loved the gym.

But a pair of people caught your attention immediately, Melanie's too.

"Holy shit that might be the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my life." She whispered breathlessly next to as she jogged at a slow speed on the treadmill. You swallowed nervously as you gazed at the woman next to the man, she's using one of the pull up bars while the man sat next to her using a stupidly heavy dumbbell.

A grey tank top on her figure as she flexed her back and shoulders muscles, pulling herself up and down flawlessly.

You glanced at the man as you walked on the treadmill.

"Oh my god it's Chad and Sam." You whisper yelled to Melanie, turning to face her with wide eyes. "If the workout doesn't kill me, seeing her working out will actually stop my heart!"

A shit eating grin quickly appeared on Melanie's face as she turned to look at you. "Damn, I'm straight but I can totally see why you're obsessed with her."

"I'm not obsessed with her." You reminded her as you glanced back at Sam's muscles flexing beautifully under the light, a small sweat on her skin which glazed her skin making her look even more attractive.

You could feel your heartbeat pick up its pace and you're more than sure it's not because of the slow pace you're doing on the treadmill.

"Sure you're not. Let's go over there then." She proposed with a sly grin.

 You shake your head instantly at her words, chuckling nervously. "Isn't it like gym code to never disturb someone while they're working out?"

Melanie sighed as she played with the screen of the treadmill making it go faster. "You're right." You grinned triumphantly. "Guess I'll just go to ask Chad for some help when he's done with his rep." Your smile dropped.

"And leave me so you can try to flirt with him?" Melanie nodded her head.

You didn't reply as you tried to focus on anywhere that wasn't Sam's glorious back.

Jesus christ, maybe you are obsessed with this woman.

After a solid ten minutes of a decent pace Melanie abruptly stopped her machine as she hopped off. You turned to look at her confused as you kept walking.

"I'm going to go on the bench press and ask Chad for some help, see you soon babe." She confirmed with a comfort smirk, giving you a wink before she headed towards Chad and Sam's direction.

You didn't dare move off of the treadmill as your eyes followed Melanie's figure heading towards the two as Chad had finished his reps.

As she arrived at where Chad and Sam were working out, Sam slowed down as Chad smiled up at her.

Whatever Melanie said to Chad must've worked since both were grinning like fools as they headed towards where the bench press was at.

You chuckled to yourself as you watched the two momentarily as Chad "helped" her with the bench press.

Unconsciously your eyes flickered back to where Sam was at, to your surprise she wasn't there anymore.

"Y/n." Sam's gruff voice greeted you as she hopped on the treadmill. Your feet tripped over each other but thankfully you not so gracefully caught yourself as you smiled at her, not expecting to see her.

"Sam! Nice to see you again, how've you been doing?" You asked with a nervous laugh as your heart rate picked up once again.

"I've been okay. You?" She asked dryly as she increased the speed to her treadmill, jogging with a speed that doubled your slow walking pace.

You smiled dreamily at her, not bothered at all by her dry tone. "I've been alright thanks for asking, how's Tara been?"

Sam's interest piqued due to you asking about her sister, a small, an almost non existent smile appeared on her lips.

"Tara's good, she's currently with Mindy playing Mario Kart. She sucks tremendously at it." Her smile grew the more she talked about her younger sister, it didn't fail to make your heart soar.

"You're a good sister, you know." You mention with your own smile, increasing your pace slightly. "It's obvious you care a lot about her and I find that really sweet. Tara's lucky to have you as a sister."

Sam didn't say anything; the sounds of yours and her footsteps filled the growing silence. You didn't mind, as long as you're with Sam you'll take it.

You and Sam jogged side by side in a comfortable silence for another ten minutes before Sam stopped her own machine, you glanced at her and couldn't help but find the flush on her cheeks completely adorable.

Something Tara would call you a lunatic for.

She's breathing heavily as her eyes locked with yours, a crooked weak smile on her face.

"Thank you." She said in a tone that wasn't her usual dark and dry tone. Your ears warmed up as your eyes twinkled with joy at her words.

"You don't have to thank me when all I'm doing is saying the truth, Sam." You assured her as you carried on walking, the excessive beating of your heart now being a mix of Sam's small smile and your increasing speed.

Sam stayed silent once again, giving you a curt nod before she turned her back, heading towards the changing room.

God, Melanie was right, you're obsessed with her.

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x y/n #melissa barrera x reader #scream six #sam carpenter fluff #fluff #angst #my fanfic writing #fuck it i love you

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gassydumbjocks · 4 months

Text

Stupid Like A Jock

"Wait, wait, bros, I have a big one..." PPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRTTTT

After that Adam could only hear that characteristic noise that echoed in his ears and made him roll his eyes feeling nauseous.

"Will they never stop being animals?" He said to himself, as he tried to change into his normal clothes and run away from the locker room as quickly as possible.

Saying the last few days have been hell for Adam is an understatement (not that the rest of days weren't, a pale scrawny nerd like him was the lower class in the hierarchy). especially since all the guys in his class seemed to be starting to take an interest in being part of the football school team, turning into one of those dumb jocks.

Each day that passed, Adam swear he could see a new boy with a varsity jacket, a backward cap, and that dumb laughs and slangs those idiots used, "Bro" and "Dude" being some of the poor few words they would use.

But that wasn't all, as He could tell, the worse was the gym class and locker room time, those places were like punishment for him, surrounded by big animal brutes, bulking, flexing, burping and farting on each others like pigs after they drank those nasty protein shakes.

As he walked out, some bros seemed to notice him, and called him out "Broo, where you going lil dude?" Parker, Quarterback player and leader of this oafs pack smirked and pointed him with a dumb and almost childish look walking to him.

You could say Adam was shorter not just from Parker, if not every boy in that room, reason that made him fear becoming a target for them to tease and torture for their own fun.

"Eh, i-i was just heading out to next class" he stuttered, feeling the stinky B.O. of the jock approaching him, making his best not to gag.

"Haha, nothin' of that bro, you gotta start bonding with real men more, those books and smarts makes you no good" Suddenly, Adam felt two of the other jocks holding each of his arms, Both of them making dumb laughs and obliging him to get just some steps from the alpha athlete.

"No! Let me go! You animals!" He Panicked trying to get them off, just to recieve a Belch from one of them in his face "EWWWWWWW!!!!"

"Give me that shit" Parker ordered one of his sidekick friends, and then he handed him a syringe with a very strange and dubious origin substance, before inyect him in his neck.

"AUUUCH" Adam cried, once the syringe was gone, they got him free, and he rubbed the affected zone "You are a bunch of... BOOOOOOOUUUURRRRRPPP!" A deep hearty belch with an almost animalistic sound came from his gut, he covered his mouth.

"What in the hell did you do to me?!" he asked, and after some seconds, a loud rumble sounded in his stomach, he put his hands in his gut and grunted for the pain.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRTTTTTTTT!

It only made him more embarrased, he tried to cover his ass then, but something felt different, as if his body was being all invaded by something that ran over all his muscles.

"Now bro, this will make you fart and burp all your brains out, you'll be a straigh alpha dude!" Parker announced and all the other Jocks there yelled celebrating in unison.

"NO!" Adam made his best to talk "I wont! -UUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRP! Be a stinky-BUUUUUUUURRRPPPPP!!! Ape like all of you!...

PPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTT

The stinky air formed around Adam, as he all of a sudden let a dumb laugh, like the ones he hated so much from those guys, inhaling the putrid air of his gas, and smiling "Uhh dude, i feel bloated" He said dumbly.

"Its all that protein and tacos you had in lunch bro!, uff, man you gotta quite mexican for a while" He mocked wafting the air with a smirk, patting his back "We have a newbie, boys" He said, and lead Adam out to room, where they would go with the Coach office to inform the new recruit for the school team.

...

After two days, Adam was changing his clothes in the lockerroom, as he drank a bottle full of Protein to prepare for his bulk up session, belching after finishing up the bottle.

He got to the gym with the rest of his team, and fist bump with all his dudes, expect Parker, instead he letted a fat beefy belch rip to him and Parker did the same as they blowed it to both their faces after laughing hard.

#iq loss #male farts #male burp #dumbing down #musk #alpha man

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layla4567 · 5 months

Text

The straw hats hearing your laugh for the first time [headcanon]

Luffy

The first time this boy heard you laugh was when you were sitting next to Ussop on the deck and he made you laugh with a joke. Luffy was on the mast and from up there he heard your loud and contagious laugh.

He couldn't help but smile, the sound was so happy and innocent. It wasn't long until he came down to see you and started laughing with you.

Luffy doesn't know how to hide so he approached you and exclaimed

"Wow Y/N, I've never heard you laugh, you should do it more often, you have a beautiful laugh!"

You turned around embarrassed, you didn't think your laugh would be heard so much. You were afraid of disturbing others with so much noise so you blushed embarrassed.

Luffy noticed and quickly hugged you like a bear. "Please don't be ashamed of it, I love that you express your joy like that!"

From that day on, Luffy didn't stop making jokes, funny faces or nonsense to hear your laugh again.

Sanji

Sanji was in the kitchen as always preparing a special dish by whisking something in a bowl and you were sitting at the bar waiting. You were waiting for him to finish while you looked distractedly at the boat window with one hand resting on your chin.

Suddenly and out of nowhere you remembered something funny and you couldn't help but smile widely while you let out a nazal pig laugh and closed your eyes. Since there was no one else in the kitchen but you and Sanji, the cook listened to you and looked up from his bowl to look at you with raised eyebrows and a wide smile.

When you realized that your laugh had sounded loud and ugly, you covered your mouth in horror and looked at him blushing and then looked at your feet. You mumbled an embarrassed sorry and ran out of the kitchen while Sanji followed you with his eyes, worried.

During the meal you couldn't make visual contact with anyone, especially Sanji, which seemed strange to everyone. Zoro even reluctantly asked the cook if he had said something bad to you. Of course he was offended and replied no. After lunch you locked yourself in your room without talking to anyone.

You sat in your hammock with your hands between your face, regretting having laughed like that when a soft knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts. When you went to open it you saw that it was Sanji looking at you worried, he always worries about you.

"Y/N, are you okay? You hardly spoke at dinner and you always have something to tell" He said trying to smile shyly.

You looked down and covered your face with your hands "It's my laugh, it's horrible and I hate it" Sanji looked at you surprised, thinking about why you hated something like your laugh, to him it seemed like the cutest sound in the universe.

"Y/N look at me" He grabbed your cheeks and looked into your eyes "You don't have to be ashamed of anything, I swear that if I ever die the last thing I want to hear is your sweet laugh" He said smiling and kissed the tip of your nose.

Zoro

The swordsman was practicing with his sword as he usually did and you were standing next to Luffy on the deck looking at the sea chatting. Suddenly Ussop wanted to join where you were but when he was going down the stairs he tripped and fell on his face.

You and Luffy turned to look at him and without hesitation burst out laughing. You let out adorable giggles as you tapped your knee. Hearing you, Zoro stopped practicing and looked at you, raising an eyebrow, then smiled sideways and let out a low, soft laugh.

Luffy ran to help Ussop and you looked at Zoro realizing that he heard you. You smiled shyly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at the ground.

Zoro slowly approached you with a mischievous smile "You didn't know you could laugh like that."

You tried to avoid his gaze, he tilted his head "I think he's cute" You quickly raised your head, looking at him in surprise and blushed.

Satisfied with his job of making you nervous, he walked away without saying anything else, leaving you frozen in place still in shock.

The next few days Zoro would make sure to tease you about your laughter so that you wouldn't forget "Y/N, do you remember the day you laughed at Ussop?, because I didn't forget it" He said with a wink "It was so delicious, you would laugh like that to if I asked you?" "Come on, don't be shy now."

And every time you laughed he was close enough to hear you again, whether you noticed his presence or not. And you always made him smile

Nami

You were sitting near Nami while she was drawing her maps, you always sat next to her because you liked watching her work and she appreciated your company.

She was focused on the strokes she was making with the pencil and you were focused on the book that you had resting on your lap. At one point during the reading you let out a melodious laugh at a funny paragraph you had read.

It was just a second but enough for Nami to stop drawing and look at you with pleasant surprise. You hadn't even realized that she had paid attention to your laughter.

Nami didn't want to interrupt your reading so she let it go and continued drawing her maps but now with a tender smile on her lips and with the sound of your laughter still in her head.

That afternoon when you were both leaning on the edge of the boat contemplating the waves and the seagulls flying through the sky, she brought up the topic gently bumping your hip with hers: "What a cute laugh you have."

You turned to look at her confused while she continued looking at the sea "Today when you were reading near me, you started to laugh" You sighed an oh and smiled, nodding.

"I would love to bottle your laughter and carry it with me always." This time he looked at you with the only thing you could describe as love.

You gave her a kiss on the cheek and began to tell her the story you were reading and what had made you laugh about the book.

Ussop

You were both sitting in a hammock. You were swinging your legs funny while he told you funny stories and bad jokes.

The atmosphere was so happy that suddenly Ussop started tickling you shamelessly.

You kicked and squirmed trying to escape from his hands while laughing happily like a child.

Your high-pitched laughter filled the entire room and echoed, your cheeks were red as apples and seeing you and hearing like that Ussop became happier and continued tickling you in places that he knew were your weak points.

When you couldn't take it anymore you punched Ussop hard on the shoulder "Enough, Ussop!!" You screamed, panting but smiling.

Your cheeks were still rosy and he looked at you with a huge smile "I'm sorry, I just liked your laugh, I don't think I'd heard it before."

You shrugged, smiling flattered but answered modestly "It's just a laugh, it's no big deal."

"No big deal? Oh come on, I'm sure you'd win a laughing contest." You laughed again at the absurdity of what he had just said. He pointed a finger at you. "See? There it is, that's it. What do you think of going to play a prank on Zoro or Luffy so we can hear you laugh again?"

You shook your head "Don't be silly Ussop" He shrugged indifferently "Oh well that's a shame, then I'll have to do this" And without thinking twice he tickled you again until, this time you laughed harder until you almost fell of the hammock. Your laugh was so scandalous that the others went to see what was happening until they saw you almost on the ground holding your stomach and with tears in your eyes.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

dividers credits: @benkeibear @rookthornesartistry

#x reader #imagine #headcanons #headcanon #opla luffy #opla sanji #opla #opla x reader #one piece netflix #one piece live action #one piece #roronoa zoro #opla nami #opla usopp #nami #ussop

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beneathstarryskies · 3 months

Text

Summary: It's been centuries since Ganondorf's victory in bringing Hyrule to its knees. However, victory is lonelier than he'd anticipated. The once great Demon King is a shadow of his former self, drinking his way through the castle's wine cellars and mumbling to himself in the dark. That is until one brave stranger wanders through the castle gates, led by curiosity...Or perhaps fate.

Word Count: 5,002

Warnings: mentions of violence, depression, Ganondorf is a recluse, beauty and the beast AU, might be OOC but i don't care this idea wouldn't leave me alone until i wrote it so here we are, overall it's pretty PG

Taglist: @emmacornell, @actuallysaiyan

In the remnants of a castle once grand but now desolate, Ganondorf wanders the halls alone. Some days he is focused on working his way through the wine cellar, but other days he mutters quietly as he wonders where it all had gone wrong. He’d achieved everything he wanted. He sits upon the throne of Hyrule, the entire realm under his control, yet as centuries pass the emptiness in his chest persists. Even the people of the realm stretching from the deserts of Gerudo to the flatlands of Akkala noticed the grip of the once fearsome ruler lessening. Only occasionally would he exert his dominance again, as though only to remind them he is still present. Even the darkness of his gloom seemed to fade from the landscape as life returned to normal for the people of the realm. Tales of the great demon king who once took over the kingdom are still passed from grandparents' mouths to the eager ears of children, but Ganondorf as they speak of him almost feels like fiction.

It was this sense of safety and curiosity that led you to Hyrule Fields. A thin layer of snow is falling on the landscape as you walk through the fields. Your eyes widen as you see the castle, and the now-empty town surrounding it. The walls are covered in a thick layer of ivy vines, now brown and barren from the cold air. You carefully walk forward, tiptoeing past the gloomy black and red sludge as you pass through the gates. As you explore the once great Castle Town, you remember the stories you’d been told as a child. The horrible stories of a great big demon who took the form of a horrible pig. Every little noise sent your mind into a frightened frenzy, and you were beginning to wonder if staying here much longer was worth indulging your long-held curiosity about the castle.

Ganondorf became aware of the intrusion when he wandered outside of the master bedroom onto the balcony. He looked down to see the tiny form of a Hyrulian woman poking around the old stalls in the market. Every so often he noticed her flinching and looking around as though frightened. Her attention soon turned to the wide doors of the castle. He recognized her intentions almost immediately, and he threw on a cloak to meet her at the door.

When you push open the double doors, you let out a squeak of surprise at the large figure looming at the bottom of the stairs. Long red hair falls in front of his face and glowing yellow eyes stare at you with malice as he growls.

“What are you doing here?” his voice, even as a whisper, echoes through the empty halls.

“I’m sorry,” you stammer as you try to back away. You trip over your own feet and fall backward. Just before you hit the ground, a large hand catches the front of your cloak. Suddenly, your feet are no longer on the ground. Ganondorf lifts you to force you to look into his eyes.

“I asked a question, little one,” he snarls. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” you stammer as your hands instinctively come to his wrist, grabbing on in case he drops you. “I thought--”

“You thought the castle to be empty,” he finishes your thought. “Perhaps I have been too kind to your people, allowing them to live too comfortably. My existence having been relegated to folklore and legend, is that it?”

“No!” you cry out, the thought of your kingdom being punished for your stupidity makes your skin crawl and your chest tightens with guilt. “No, it’s just…Me…I was curious.”

“Oh,” he pulls you closer. “Curious? You wish to see my castle?”

His words lull you into a false sense of comfort as you mistake his annoyance for understanding, “Yes, your Highness.”

“I see, little one,” he throws you over his shoulder. “You wish to see my castle and know its secrets. I see…Well, I shall make sure you spend all the time you have left within the walls of this castle.”

He walks you upstairs and tosses you into an empty bedroom. Before you can scramble to your feet the door is being slammed shut, and you hear the unmistakable click of a lock trapping you inside. You crawl to the door, standing on your knees as you bang on it desperately with shaking fists.

“Please,” you call out. “I’m sorry! Please let me out! I’ll leave! I promise I won’t tell anyone I saw you!”

Your cries and pleas fall on deaf ears. Ganondorf closed himself off to emotions like pity and empathy long ago. He ascends the remaining stairs to go to the master bedroom once more. He grabs his earlier forgotten bottle of wine and throws himself into his chair. He throws his head back and finishes the bottle in one long gulp. His heart is racing as he thinks about you. Your pitiful eyes as you tried to explain yourself, and then your tiny hands on his wrist to cling to stability. There’s something about your curiosity and bravery that piqued his interest. He can’t remember the last time someone ventured to the castle.

Your cries and pleas continue for hours until you wear yourself out from exhaustion. You crawl onto the old bed and you begin sobbing until you fall asleep.

_____

Ganondorf awakens when the sun is high in the sky. He has almost forgotten about having locked you away. You on the other hand have been awake since dawn. You’ve torn the room apart in search of some sort of escape. Realizing the king had you locked up tight, you felt a wave of defeat crash over you.

“Damn it all,” you cried out and fell onto the bed with an annoyed sigh. Tears sting your eyes, but you try to hold them back.

You could feel Ganondorf approaching before you could see him. His looming presence was difficult to ignore. He pushed the door open, not feeling even a moment of remorse as he saw your pathetic form on the bed.

“You’re lucky it’s been ages since I’ve had anyone in this castle,” he speaks. “I require a new servant.”

You sit up on the bed, turning to him with a look of indignation.

“Who says I’m trying to become a servant?” you ask. Immediately you regret the question when his eyes begin to glow with anger. He reaches out to grab you by the collar of your dress, and easily he lifts you off the ground just like before.

“The alternative is death,” he growls.

You had no choice but to give in to him. He drops you back onto the bed before turning away. His imposing figure stalks to the door, only stopping for a moment to look over his shoulder at you.

“Start by cooking breakfast,” he says, his voice a perpetual growl.

You don’t know what else to do. There’s not much you can do besides go along with his orders. You go downstairs, and it takes a bit of searching before you find the kitchen. There’s almost no food in the pantries, only a few things you assume he must have gathered on his own at some point, or perhaps those from neighboring villages brought in the goods as offerings. You’re staring up at the shelves trying to plan a meal when his shadow looms over you.

“A farmer nearby brings supplies,” his voice booms through the pantry. “In return, I keep the monsters off his sheep.”

“Why would you?”

He answers your question with another, “What threat does a farmer hold to my rule?”

You don’t turn to him, instead, you reach up to the high shelf where there’s a bag of flour to try to reach it. You expect him to help you, but he doesn’t. He stands back and smirks as you climb up the shelves to grab the bag of flour and start to pull it slowly in the hope you can shimmy it down. Instead, it falls and bursts on the floor.

“Now you have a breakfast to cook and a mess to clean,” he chuckles. “It’s good to see you can keep yourself busy.”

He leaves you alone, and you manage to clean up. Then, you cook a nice meal considering what little you have to work with. After that, he tells you to pick a room and begin cleaning.

The days continue in this manner. You cook and clean in the castle. Occasionally you manage to tease some semblance of conversation from him, if grunts and the occasional sarcastic quip can be considered as such. To your surprise, he’s not cruel to you. He’s just cold, almost apathetic as far as you can tell. You’re mostly kept to your own devices, which is lonely. As long as you do the chores, he doesn’t have much to say.

Considering his indifference, you didn’t think he would put in any effort to stop your escape. Being able to explore the castle on your own for so many hours of the day, it had taken you a week to muster up the courage to try to leave. However, as soon as you passed through the gate gloom hands surprised you and dragged you back to your quarters. If he had known of your attempt to escape, he never spoke a word of it to you.

_____

Ganondorf isn’t accustomed to having company anymore. The centuries have passed, and his former companions have fallen by the wayside. Either having fallen in battle or to the ravages of time. He tells himself he’s a lonely old fool the first time his heart races when you attempt to make casual conversation with him.

His heart pounds even more so when you shyly ask if he misses being in Gerudo Town. Nobody over the years ever had the bravery to ask such a deeply personal question. You were sitting on the sofa by the fire mending a hole in your skirt when the question fell from your lips as simply as asking if the sky is blue. He looked up from the flames.

“What a bold question little one,” he commented as he took a deep breath to prepare his answer. “I miss my sisters most of all, but none of the sisters I knew are living any longer. Those who inhabit that place are now strangers to me as I am to them.”

A pang of sadness hits your chest, “Are there other things you miss?”

“No, not necessarily. The blistering sun and unforgiving sands hold no sentiment except for how they made me strong.”

“I see,” you say and quickly return to mending your clothes.

“You need more attire,” he says.

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Ah, but you’re wrong. It is because of me that you are here, therefore it is my responsibility to care for you.”

Your mind feels blank for a moment. Was that kindness? From the mouth of the demon king himself? Before you can say anything, he rises from his seat. He doesn’t bid you goodnight before disappearing. Nor do you notice him locking the castle up like he usually does at night.

The next morning when you awaken, there’s a a pile of neatly folded clothes placed on the armchair in your room. You look through the clothes carefully. Among the more casual pants and blouses, you also find a beautiful gown. The material is soft, emerald green with gold floral embroidery along the hems. You assume it must have been by mistake that he brought something so elegant and beautiful to you. With great care, you hang the gown in the wardrobe, where among the shelves you find a new pair of shoes and a winter cloak.

You get ready for your day, dressing in the new clothes he brought, and then busy yourself with chores. It’s nearly night when you hear Ganondorf stir. Looking to thank him for his gesture, you quickly make your way towards the staircase to greet him. However, the words are caught in your throat when you see him.

He’s dressed in a fine, majestic robe. You recognize the patterns on it as being Gerudo. His hair is tied back, and the red beard that had been down to his chest when you arrived is neatly trimmed back up to his jawline.

“Did you have something to say?” he asks, hoping to put a stop to your wide-eyed gaping. How long has it been since someone looked upon him with awe rather than fear?

“Y-you look nice,” you smile shyly, having forgotten your original intentions for the moment.

“Ah, yes,” he nods.

You look down to the floor again then the thoughts return to your mind. You bounce softly on your toes and your eyes light up.

“Thank you for bringing me new clothes!”

“I told you I would,” he comes down the rest of the stairs and looks down on you but not with malice. “Did you find the gown?”

Your eyes widen. So it hadn’t been a mistake?

“Y-yes, I did! It’s so beautiful.”

“I was hoping you’d wear it tonight,” he doesn’t sound as authoritative as he’d hoped to.

“Oh, sure. I’ll put it on after dinner.”

“No, don’t worry about dinner. Go change now.”

With a short, courteous bow you make your exit. Upstairs in your room, you quickly bathe and then slip into the beautiful gown. Upon inspecting your appearance, you decide a bit more effort needs to go into it if you’re to wear such an opulent outfit. You brush your hair and braid it neatly.

As you set to work on your appearance, you wonder what Ganondorf has planned for the evening. You’ve never seen him quite so…Handsome. He’s all cleaned up and dressed like the true king he is. Surely he wouldn’t go to so much effort for you, would he? No, you tell yourself that’s not possible. Perhaps he’s just having a bit of fun with you. After all, he’s been in this castle by himself for centuries. It would make sense for him to take to a bit of fanciness since he has someone around to share it with.

Somehow imagining him seeing you as more than just a servant makes your heart flutter. You tell yourself you must be insane for thinking this way. Yet, he’s become more than a master to you. You’ve spent long nights sitting by the fire, listening to his tales of times long past. Somewhere among hearing his childhood tales of starvation and heat among his people and witnessing the opulence Hyrule hoarded, you began to understand his anger. Perhaps you couldn’t fully condone his path, but you could understand why he would grow to desire the conquering of the kingdom. You began to see through the dark, foreboding reputation of the demon king.

As you descend the stairs, you notice more light in the castle than you’re used to at this time of night. The grand chandelier in the main hall has been lit along with the chandeliers on the stone walls throughout the corridor leading into the ballroom, as though lighting your path. As you open the large double doors, you see a dining table set up by the large windows looking out onto the courtyard. It’s filled to the brim with fruit, cheese, and dried meats. A bottle of wine is chilled by two glasses. Ganondorf stands nearby, his back straight as he stares out the window with his hands locked behind him.

“Your majesty,” you say to get his attention.

He turns to you, his eyes widening momentarily before his face returns to being neutral.

“You look lovely,” he whispers, almost too quiet for you to hear it. You bow politely.

“Thank you,” you smile.

“I have set up dinner,” he explains. “You asked me once what it was like being the king of the Gerudo. I thought I would show you how I ate then.”

“Oh?” You approach the table, and he quickly pulls the chair out for you. You thank him as you sit down.

“The heat was intense. So, I often tried to eat light yet still filling meals. I ate considerably more than this, of course, but I thought you’d appreciate having more variety.”

“You put this together?”

He smiles as he begins pouring the wine, “Yes, of course. Can’t I do things for myself? Or do you wish to take care of me completely?”

Your cheeks heat up at his double entendre. It takes you a moment to regain your bearings, trying not to imagine what all ‘taking care’ of him might entail.

“I suppose it’s just unexpected.”

He places a glass of wine by your hand, and you hear a deep chuckle from him as he sits across from you.

“Believe it or not, back then I didn’t have many servants. The Gerudo people are prideful therefore believe it or not, they didn’t bow to me like I was a child in need of praise. I was proud to be self-sufficient.”

“I see,” you smile. “So, what is all this?” you gesture to the ballroom all lit up and with a few flower arrangements scattered about.

“I thought you might enjoy a bit of grandeur,” he sighs. “Must you ask so many questions?”

Your cheeks burn as you look down at your plate, “I only wished to know.”

“All in due time,” he answers before beginning to pile his plate with food.

You follow along, taking a bit of all of the offerings. It was a nice, light meal. Leaving you full, yet still energetic instead of ready to fall asleep in your chair. The wine made your cheeks burn and your muscles feel loose. Ganondorf encourages you to eat more if you need more, and you’re surprised by the way he seems to be taking such care of you even though he doesn’t seem the kind to have a caring bone in his body.

After the two of you finish your meals, he takes your hand and leads you to the middle of the ballroom. He explains that he wishes to teach you some of the traditional Gerudo dances. He explains how often in his time as King, the dances would be performed with two women. However, as time passed and the Gerudo became more focused on finding husbands they began altering the steps.

“Women are strong and can stand on their own, but I suppose as time passed they wanted to be more meek to attract husbands,” he explains as he shows you the steps as intended which would see your hips swaying carelessly. “Are you meek?” he asks with a teasing smile.

“For you?” you giggle. “I think not.”

He laughs, surprising you deeply yet thrilling you none the same. Soon he has you pulled close as you perform the steps as he’d showed you. One large hand rests on the small of your back as he guides you to move along with him. The ballroom is large, and it’s perfect for what he does. Every corner is explored by the gentle tapping of your feet, barely out of synch considering the difference in your size.

“Come,” he says as he pulls you closer. He gently guides you to stand on his feet. The weight doesn’t seem to bother him as he holds you as close as he can. He moves the two of you as gracefully as waves across the ocean. There’s a softness in his eyes as he looks down at you, and finally leans closer.

“Are you…?”

Before you can speak, and ruin the moment, he presses his lips to yours. The warmth of his mouth spreads through you, lighting a fire in the pit of your stomach. His hands rest upon your waist and his feet go still as he loses himself to the kiss. Your fingers are small and gentle as they comb through his fiery hair. Finally, the two of you separate. He almost looks ashamed of his actions. He steps away, looking around the room like a wild animal in a cage searching for an escape.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers. “Intimacy shared when one is bound is a violation.”

“Gan…Wait,” you grab his hand but he quickly pulls away. “I don’t feel that way with you.”

“It matters not what you feel. The truth is unchanged. If I’d not forced you here, then this moment would have never come to pass.”

“No, please-”

“You should leave,” he growls. “Do not look back at this place. Leave me here.”

“Just listen to me,” you plead. “Please, I want to stay!”

“Leave! Now,” he bellows through the halls. “Do not ever return!”

Tears fill your eyes as the sting of rejection fills your chest. You want to open your mouth and tell him how badly you wish to stay. Throughout your time with him you’ve seen him grow from being a reclusive, grumpy king to showing the side of him that’s charming. You’ve found yourself growing more confident and content as well. Despite everything, you seem to have brought out the best in one another. Yet, he’s pushing you away now.

“If you do not leave, I will kill you!” he snarls, the threat as empty as the wine bottle on the dining table. He’d never be able to bring himself to harm a hair on your head.

Without another word, you run upstairs to pack your few belongings. _____

You were surprised by the greeting you’d received when you’d returned home. Your family was delighted to see you. Your mother doted on you for days, having spent the better part of a year thinking you had abandoned the family or worse got yourself killed. You have always been a curious one, after all. After all of your family realized not only were you in good health, but you weren’t going to share what you’d been through it was business as usual. There were chores to be done on the farm, and you were eager to busy yourself with mindless work.

You missed him deeply. It was a surprising turn, even to you. At night when you sat by the fire, you often found yourself asking your family philosophical questions they couldn’t answer all that deeply. In your mind, you could almost hear the way Ganondorf would have answered them. The way he almost seemed to purr in the back of his throat when he sat back in his chair, rubbing his beard, as he considered how to answer your best. You remembered the way his eyes would light up when you’d managed to push a topic he was particularly interested in. His eyes would light up when you would argue with him, confidently asserting your thoughts, as though he was proud of you for being so willing to stand up to him. Meanwhile, you felt suffocated by returning to your old life. Your family are kind people, surely, but they’re also simple in their desires. You missed the thrill of being close to someone who had a worldview so interestingly different from your own who could both challenge and be challenged in exchange.

Yet, you worked. Finding solace and quiet in the familiarity of it all. It was the same thing you’d found yourself doing up until the fateful day you had been at the castle.

Did he know how much the time you spent with him meant to you? Somehow you felt that question burning in your mind for weeks. Maybe if you had told him the truth of your feelings sooner, then he would have never sent you away. If he had known you didn’t feel imprisoned with him, would he have let you stay by his side? Would the budding feelings between you have finally bloomed? Not having the answers to these questions was enough to drive you to madness. And yet…The answers would not come.

Months had passed when the adventurer arrived. His name was Link, and as your family served him dinner he explained his mission. He was to free Hyrule from the Demon King, Ganondorf.

“The Demon King has been silent for many years,” your father said. “Is such a feat really worth laying down your life for?”

“He may be silent for now, but the conquering spirit in him still remains. Hyrule will not be free until he is gone,” Link replied.

“Will peace truly ever return?” your mother asked.

“Yes,” Link said, with an unwavering resolve. “Princess Zelda will take the throne, and restore prosperity.”

As all of you laid down in your bedrolls that night, you had tried to push away the fear. He had made sure you no longer felt like he was your problem, therefore you felt it was in your best interest to pretend it wasn’t. Whether Ganondorf lived or died, should have been of no concern to you.

Yet, the next morning, you rise with the sun. You quickly go check the spare room, and see that Link has already left. His blankets are neatly folded and there’s a small pile of money off to the side.

“No, no,” you whisper to yourself.

You run to the stables and take one of your family horses. You ride towards the castle, praying that you will make it in time to save Ganondorf. Although truth be told, you didn’t know if it was entirely possible.

The sun is shining brightly overhead, the sky a cheerful shade of blue. In the distance, you can see a dark, gloom-filled cloud hanging over the ruins of Hyrule castle. You wonder if Link has already made it there, and is now fighting Ganondorf. There’s a strange conflict brewing in your chest because you understand why Link wants to defeat him. You just can’t stand the thought of losing Ganondorf. You keep replaying that night in your head, and you wish more than anything that you would have fought harder to stay by his side. Knowing you may never get to tell him the truth of your feelings makes your heart sink into your stomach.

As you arrive at the castle, the clouds of gloom have begun to fade. Leaving only rainclouds in their wake that are slowly being pushed aside by the soft breeze. Does this mean it’s over? Ganondorf has been defeated?

You leave your horse by the gate and run past the walls. You see his large form hunched over on one of the balconies. Link lunges with his sword, and suddenly Ganondorf falls. He lands with a loud crash on the ground, sending cracks through the stone from the impact. Link stands at the edge of the balcony and crawls onto the ledge. He points an arrow bathed in divine light down at Ganondorf, aiming for the finishing blow.

“No!” You cry out as you run to Ganondorf’s rumpled form.

“Huh?” Link gasps as he sees you throw yourself over Ganondorf. Your considerably smaller form does nothing to truly shield him, but Link knows you wouldn’t be able to withstand the blast from the light arrow. “Move!” Link calls down to you.

“No! I won’t!”

“Little one,” Ganondorf coughs. “It’s over…Do not…” he trails off when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks. He can’t remember the last time anyone cried for him, or if they ever had.

“Please, I won’t let you die,” you cry softly and bury your head against his chest. You don’t care about the blood and grime covering him. You feel his large hand on your back, his fingers curling through your hair.

“I’m glad you came, if only so I could see you one last time.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “Don’t speak that way.”

Link jumps down, landing with a thud on his feet, “You don’t understand. I have to finish him. Ganondorf has to die so Hyrule can be saved.”

“Why does he have to die?” you sob as you continue clinging to him, your tears soaking into his tattered clothes. Link looks down, unsure of how to answer your question. Truth be told, he didn’t truly understand himself. Ganondorf had practically been dormant for half a century, and the monsters had slowly begun to fade away.

“It’s fate,” Ganondorf tells you, continuing to rub your back. “Stand aside, little one. Do not weep for me anymore.”

“Ganondorf, I can’t leave you like this,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“Love?” he whispers as though the word is one he’s never heard. He wants to laugh, not at your feelings but at the notion of someone feeling something so gentle for him. “I…I love you as well, but it matters not now.”

You look up, expecting to see Link standing over you. Instead, you see his retreating form. Almost seeming to sense your gaze, he looks over his shoulder. “Make sure he doesn’t give me a reason to seek him again. The two of you find somewhere to go, somewhere far away from here. I will tell everyone he’s dead.”

“Thank you,” you whisper through gentle sobs.

Ganondorf can hardly believe his ears. Had the hero truly decided to spare him? He couldn’t imagine a time when something like this would happen, and yet he knows there’s something he’s never had before…Rather someone. You must be the most precious thing he’s ever held in his arms.

You embrace him again, savoring the beating of his heart and the warmth of him. Still alive, still breathing. He touched your hair, feeling the soft strands between his fingers. When you finally look up at him, there’s a sweet smile on your face despite the tears in your eyes. Then, you lean down to kiss him. His heart soars from the gentle affection.

It would seem fate had something different in store for him this time.

#🌟written in the stars #ganondorf x reader #ganondorf #ganondorf dragmire x reader #ganondorf fanfiction #legend of zelda fanfiction #ganondorf loz x reader

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malehypnofantasy · 3 months

Text

For God sake, not only the passenger seated next to me big as fuck, he is also reeked! Did he just workout or something before this flight? And to think I should last 6 hours by his side, God please give me strength. I let him know about my repulsion through my expression, but he just scoffed at me and minded his own business. How convenient of a buffoon to act that way, unaware of their own stench! I tried to negotiate my way out from this cursed seat but the flight attendant said the flight is full so they cannot move me. Hhhhh......I can't imagine my perfume might last against his stench!! Imagine walking out of this plane to meet my wife while I smelled of body odor!??? What a disgrace. This is possiby the worst flight ever!

I must have fallen asleep in the process of holding my breath and tried to focus on my reading despite this wafting smell coming out of this disgusting muscle pig. Some low, guttural noises earlier woke me up, and imagine my surprise to see the guy next to this muscle pig already soaked with God knows what, his hand gripped the biceps of this muscle pig. Is he----

"Oh well, you mirin' dude? He can't help himself cornered in the window seat like that being squished with my muscle. Maybe you can use some fix too like him?"

And just like that, he flexed his biceps out of nowhere and I cannot move my eyes away! Look at that bicep peak! And those intricate tattoos that adorned his beautiful tan skin! Fuck, this guy is gorgeous, and hot damn.......how on Earth I didn't realize how great he smelled throughout this flight. Maybe because he just get his pits out now? I literally let my mouth gaped a bit too long until this stream of drool just coming out of my mouth, but is this guy for real just giving me a private gun show?

"You can cop a feel, you know?"

And when he flexed harder as my hand traced his biceps and protruding veins, I soaked my pants with this free-flowing cum that I just cannot contain. This is erotica at its finest, not even my wife's supple body and big breast ever make me feel this insane. I tried to come up with sentence trying to rationalize and vocalize whatever the fuck happened here, but when he smirked at me after seeing my crotch, I think he knows how well I fall down bad for him so he just grabbed my head and let me huff his sweatpants right at his crotch while he rested my neck on the armrest, his left triceps keeping me in place as his right hand fished out his 7 inchers beer can beast out for me to swallow. This is the best flight ever!

#male hypno #male manipulation #straight to gay #submisive and breedable #mental domination

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sirthisisa-wendys · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could you do a shion x reader where he has a gf that’s way of his league. Shion introduces her to the rest of the tenjiku gang. They can’t believe that the out of everyone shion managed to bag a baddie. Our dear reader loves Shion a lot 😭

It's a Shion Supremacy around here, ladies and gents!

I Mean It: Shion Madarame x Fem!Reader

wc: 636

tw: smut

masterlist

"Th-the meeting is gonna start soooooooon!"

Shion isn't whining, you note, sucking up his length and flicking your wrist around his tip before lowering back down. He's just overstimulated.

"Give me a sec, babe," you urge him, still working your mouth around his heavy cock and slurping loudly. "Need to finish." Shion doesn't protest, lacing his fingers through your hair and grunting softly. "Just relax."

All the air leaves Shion's body when you finally take him down your throat, every inch of him nestled sweetly in your beautiful mouth. He practically jumps in the driver's seat, holding onto you for dear life as you suck loudly, coming back up for air.

"'m gonna cum," he whispers huskily, squeezing his eyes shut as your head bobs up and down and you make those little gagging noises he loves. Without much effort, he tenses up and begins to stutter his hips as thick ropes of cum fill your mouth. When you've swallowed every drop, Shion pulls you up and kisses you on the mouth without hesitation.

"I'm fucking lucky," he grins, biting his lower lip and eyeing you with a hungry look. "So lucky to have a girl like you. Can't wait until they see you."

And so you walk into the pitiful warehouse, hand in hand with your beau and observing the place with a displeased look. "This is where he brings you all to meet?"

"Better here than where we were a few years ago," the blonde mutters, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you close. "Shipyards are private but not glamorous." Shion nips at your ear playfully and you giggle, letting him caress you and say stupid things in your ear.

When you finally get to the space where the other five members are, you stand next to Shion awkwardly, noticing that there aren't any other girls.

"Shion," a white-haired man murmurs. "Who have you brought to our meeting?"

"My girlfriend," Shion pronounces proudly, smirking all the while. "I thought I'd introduce her to you before we started." A long silence precedes intense laughter from all sides of the room. They laugh so loud that it echoes, and you're stuck standing next to Shion, unsure of what to do. He pulls you ever closer, though, and his face tightens into a frown.

"You're a pretty little thing," one of the men chuckles, walking up to you and touching your hair carefully. "How much did he pay you to stand here next to him?"

"Nothing," you quip, shirking away from the man with two braids and a sleepy look about him. "I'm really his girlfriend."

"And pigs can fly," another one scoffs, rolling his red eye. You frown at him, wishing you could sneer at them and make them all believe that you're really his. But when they keep making comments about how Shion "could never" find a woman who looked, talked, or walked like you, you grab his hand.

"Come on, Shion. You don't need their approval." The conversation ceases abruptly, and you take his hand and tug him along with you. "They're just jealous."

"Hold on, hold on," a bulky man calls out before standing. "You say you're his girlfriend."

"I am."

"What side does he sleep on?" Shion isn't sure why Mochi would ask a question like that, but you reply confidently:

"He sleeps like a starfish."

"Yeah, they're fucking." Mochi grumbles, shrugging. "Shion does starfish out in the bed late at night. I'll never forget it in all my years of watching him sleep."

Shion turns to his companions and smirks again. "Such a warm welcome for my girl. Thanks, you guys."

"Congrats," Izana mutters solemnly. "You have me eating my words, Mad Dog. But just this once."

"Once is more than enough, Izana. It's more than enough!"

#shion madarame smut #shion madarame #shion madarame x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers

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arlana-likes-to-write · 2 months

Text

Lightning Bug - Chapter 28

Masterlist

Warnings: usage of a gun (training), fluff, mention of past trauma

Word Count: 3.8k

You tightened the straps on your backpack as you waited for Natasha and Wanda. There was a knot forming in your stomach. They were excited to meet you, but what if you disappointed them? What if they weren’t happy with who you are? “Hey,” Wanda placed her hands on her shoulders. “Breath. Take a few deep breaths for me.” You nodded and did that. “Good,” you turned to face her. “What’s going through your head?” You sighed, biting your lip. “What’s going through your head?” You sighed, biting your head.

“What if they don’t like me?” You whispered. It seemed ridiculous to say out loud. “I’m a little nervous.” Wanda nodded.

“I was too when I first met them,” she pushed some of your hair behind your ear. “They will love you. Just be you.”

“And take everything Alexei says with a grain of salt,” Natasha rushed over to you as the doors opened and the ramp came out. Natasha told you they had to part the jet a little further away from the house because Melina doesn’t want the jet’s engine to scare the animals. You descended the ramp and hoped the walk would calm your anxiety, but it became worse. Each step you took made your heart pound faster and faster.

The property remained you of the Barton’s homestead but more rustic. There was a main house with multiple outdoor buildings. As you got closer, you could smell and hear the pigs. “There they are!” A booming voice echoed through the quiet land. It came from a man with a thick beard wearing overalls.

“Yebat’ (fuck),” Natasha mumbled and pushed you behind her. Your body tensed up as you watched the man run over to the three of you. “Alexei, no,” Natasha warned.

“Natalia, my pride and joy,” he looked at Wanda. “Wanda, hopefully, my soon-to-be daughter-in-law,” you saw the couple in front of you tense up. “Move. I’d like to see moya vnucka (my granddaughter).” You weren’t sure what that word was.

“Not with that energy,” Wanda said. “Bring it down a little, or you’ll scare her off.” The man gasped.

“I would never! I’m her dedushka (grandpa). We are destined to be side by side like in American movies,” you peeked your head from behind the couple and saw a woman walking out of the house. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her arms were crossed against her chest. Suddenly, the man’s face was in front of yours.

“Hi,” he said. You yelped and fell to the ground, startled by his sudden appearance. “You’re so small.” He pushed past the couple and grabbed you by the arms, lifting you like you weighed nothing. “I could put you in my pocket.” The man hugged you tight. “I am your dedushka (grandpa). I can not wait to tell you all about my glory days.” The man swayed you from side to side, and your body went tense, frozen. Even Wanda and Natasha’s voice turned to white noise. You felt a pressure building that started in your chest. You had to hold it in; the charge would kill the man holding you.

“Alexei, vinz (down),” a new voice broke through the fog. “She is not a toy.” The man gently set you down, and you were shaky on your legs. The man looked apologetic, scratching the back of his head. You were sure Natasha was asking if you were okay, but your eyes stayed trained on the newest addition to the group. She grabbed hold of your chin, moving your head from side to side. “Alexei’s right. You are too small. Is Natalia not feeding you?”

“Mama,” the read head groaned. “She’s eating.”

“Not enough. Come, I’ll cook you something,” she dragged you towards the house, but you dug your feet into the ground.

“Wait,” your voice shook, and everyone’s eyes trained on you. “I need,” air couldn’t get into your lungs. “Nat,” you gasped. “Help.” Quickly, she opened her bag and pulled out a battery. She placed it in your hands and knelt in front of you. You wanted to yell at her to get back. To run because you were afraid to hurt her, but the words died on your lips. She sensed your hesitation.

“I got you, molniyenosnyy zhuk (lightning bug). Let go,” (release the energy). You slumped against Natasha, and her arms wrapped around you. “That was a big one. Take a minute, okay,” you nodded and focused on Natasha’s hand, rubbing circles on your back.

“Did I hurt anyone?” You whispered.

“No, Wanda pushed Melina and Alexei back with her powers.” Good. That was good. You stood up straighter and saw Natasha smiling at you. She pushed a few strands of your hair stuck to your forehead from sweat. You felt hot and hungry.

“Hi,” Wanda stood next to you, and you rested your head on her chest. “How are you feeling?” You huffed.

“Better,” you admitted. “Sorry, that was embarrassing.”

“I think someone else should apologize,” you turned around to see the duo walk back to you. The woman hit Alexei.

“Sorry about that. I was excited to meet you.” The man’s cheeks were flushed.

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “Hi, by the way.” you waved.

“Melina, Alexei,” Natasha placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “This is Y/n, our daughter,” your stomach flipped at that. You loved having someone be proud enough of you to call you their daughter.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Melina smiled. “We’ve heard great things about you,” her eyes pointed at you. “I still think you are too small.”

“Mama!”

“They are so cute!” You stood on the wooden pen for the pigs and watched Alexei chase after the piglets. They wanted nothing to do with him. Natasha laughed.

“Come on, Red Guardian! Didn’t you fight Captain America and win? Catching a pig for your vnucka (granddaughter),” you giggled and watched the man’s face twist with determination. You learned vnucka, which is translated to granddaughter, and the Russian words for grandma and grandpa are dedushka and babushka. Alexei was adamant about you calling him Dedushka. Melina shoved three bowls of chowder before she thought you were ready to explore.

“I got one!” A pig was pushed into your arms, and Natasha had to catch you before you fell off the fence.

“Alexei! What have I told you about manhandling my pigs?” You heard Melina call out and missed the murderous glare Natasha sent Alexei, too distracted by the little pig in your arms. It took a while for the creature to settle in your arms, but soon it pushed against your chest for warmth.

“It’s so tiny,” you whispered, so afraid to disturb the little creature in your arms. A weird feeling bloomed in your chest. It was strange how much faith the animal had in you. The pig trusted you to hold it close and protect it. Such blind faith. It was a little ridiculous, but it reminded you of yourself. You put faith in your parents and the man from HYDRA who promised you a better life. Now you were doing it with the Avengers. Was it wise to do it again? The third time is the charm, right? “What’s got you thinking so hard?” Natasha asked, running her hand over your head. You glanced up. She was smiling. Her eyes sparkled with love; sometimes, you forgot how much she cared about you. You smiled.

“Just, uh, thinking about life,” she chuckled, kissing your forehead. You basked in the warmth she provided.

“Never change, dorogoy (sweetheart),” you looked at her confused. “After everything you’ve been through, your heart is still good.” You frowned, unsure if that was true. You protected the pig with one hand as you climbed over the pen and placed the animal on the ground. It looked confused, turned to face, and ran to bury itself between your legs. You chuckled, pushing the creature towards its family. However, the piglet ran back to you.

“What’s going on, little one?” You asked, scratching its chin. “Why don’t you want to join your friends?”

“It’s the runt,” Melina said. You glanced over at her. “The others pick on it.” You frowned and sat down. The piglet climbed onto your lap and looked up at you.

“I was a runt, too,” you spoke softly. Your hand never stopped petting it. “I think we grow up to be the strongest of the group because we have to fight every single day just to survive,” you sighed. “And that can be scary, but I promise little one, everything will turn out just fine.” You felt a little crazy speaking to an animal, but the little pig seemed to understand. It glanced at the other pigs and back to you before joining them. You smiled and stood up. Wanda and Natasha were watching you with a smile. Yeah, everything was turning out just fine.

It was a long day. With the emotional trip to Sokovia and the surprise display of power, Wanda and Y/n were taking a nap before dinner. Alexei was outside finishing the chores he promised Melina that would be done, but due to the excitement, they slipped his mind. So Natasha was left to help prepare dinner with Melina. Sometimes, Natasha had to pinch herself to remind herself this was real. That the woman chose to be here, decided to be her mother, and that the Red Room wasn’t orchestrating this. It’s not another mission. This was real. It took a while for her to trust Melina and Alexei again. Yelena was the critical factor to help mend the relationship. She knew it was Yelena’s desperate attempt to have a real family. “It looks good on you,” Melina said, standing over the sauce for the beef stroganoff. Natasha hummed in question, focusing on chopping up the spices. “Motherhood. You fall into the role naturally.”

“You sound surprised,” she glanced over her shoulder, but Melina’s back was to her.

“Not surprised at all. You are a khameleon (chameleon). You adapt. It was like that in Ohio, the Red Room, and now with the Avengers,” Natasha wasn’t sure if what Melina said was a compliment. She turned to face the older Black Widow, and Melina looked at her. “Why do you look offended?”

“I’m not sure if I should take what you said as a compliment.”

“No?” She tilted her head. “You were always sensitive to that.” Melina walked over to the cutting board she was using and took it back to the pot. “I was trying to say it’s hard for us to be mothers, people like you and me.”

“Why is it hard?” She saw Melina’s stutter as she added the freshly chopped herbs into the pot.

“Because that choice was taken away from us,” Subconsciously, Natasha placed her hand where her scar was. The serum healed all of it, but she would never forget where it was. She dropped her hand when Melina turned back around to hand her the cutting board. “But you are doing good. Does that happen often with her powers?” Natasha shook her head.

“Not since she started training with Maria,” Natasha began cleaning the dishes she no longer needed. The farmhouse needed to be equipped with a dishwasher; she preferred to do it by hand. It kept her busy.

“Is she training to be an Avenger?”

“No, I mean she could join the team if she wants, but we are focusing on helping her control her powers,” Or help her fight this new threat that was possibly coming. She would have a long chat with Vision when she got back.

“Are you and Wanda going to have more children?” Natasha felt her cheeks warm up. “I would like to have more grandchildren to spoil.”

“Mama! We just adopted her. Give us some time.” Melina chuckled and wiped her hands on a dish towel. The gentle hand of Melina on her shoulder caused Natasha’s body to go rigid, but she turned around to face her. The woman places both hands on her cheeks.

“Throughout our entire life, every choice was made for us,” her voice was so soft Natasha had to remind herself who was speaking to her. “But you chose to be that little girl’s mama, and being a mother is the greatest gift. Cherish it.” It was hard for Natasha to look past the betrayal towards Alexei and Melina. Melina was the only mother she knew since the Red Room took her biological one away. Melina was part of the system that kept hundreds of girls trapped even when she was trapped herself.

The sudden moment was interpreted by the crack of a gun going off; the duo separated immediately. “There is a pistol in the umbrella holder by the back door,” Melina said suddenly. She nodded and raced to where Melina told her. It wasn’t surprising to her that weapons were scattered around the house. Once her hand came into contact with the metal, she remembered to take a few calming breaths. The list of enemies was long and still growing. No matter who was here, no one was taking her family from her.

She kicked the back door open and expected to see the backyard filled with enemies racing towards the house or Alexei fighting them off. No. Instead, she saw Alexei and Y/n at the gun range for Widows that stayed on the farm. There was a pistol in the teen’s hand, and the gun going off two more times caused goosebumps to form on her arm.

“Alexei, what the fuck are you doing?”

You spun around to see two very angry Black Widows armed with a pistol and a rifle. Safety placed the gun down like Alexei and Maria showed you, and you ran over to Natasha. “Nat, come look!” It was enough time for her to hand the pistol to Melina before you dragged her over to the makeshift gun range. “Look how well I did!” You were proud of your grouping: two head shots and two in the shot. You looked back at Natasha and your smile. “You look upset.”

“Of course I’m upset. Melina and I thought we were being attacked,” you cringed and glanced at Melina and Alexei. The older woman was radially speaking in Russian and heard the word ‘idiot’ a few times. Suddenly, the back door of the house busted open. Wanda’s eyes were glowing red, and her magic danced on her fingers. It died down when she saw her family and no threat.

“Oh, I’m in so much trouble.” Natasha grabbed your arm and dragged you back over.

“Explain, both of you,” Melina said when Wanda jogged over. You and Alexei shared a look.

“I woke up and heard you and Natasha talking in the kitchen,” you said slowly. “I went outside to explore, and Alexei, I mean dedushka,” you saw his smile from the corner of your eye. “Saw me walking around the training area. He said you made it for the Widows that sometimes stay here,” you knew it had to do with some rehabilitation program Yelena set up, but the details were fuzzy. It took a lot of work to follow any story Alexei told. “I asked him if he could teach me how to shoot a gun.” The two Black Widows said something in Russian that was not part of your daily language lesson, but Alexei cringed. Natasha stared down the man.

“And you thought it was a good idea.”

“Her mama, babushka, and tetya (aunt) are all Black Widows. She should know her way around a gun,” it was a fair agreement to make. “She gave me very good-” he snapped his fingers. “What’s the word? When the eyes get small and sad?”

“Puppy dog eyes,” Wanda said with a smirk. Alexei pointed at the witch. “She tends to use them to get something she wants,” you opened your mouth to argue, but the witch gave you a pointed look. You thought it was best to keep your mouth shut. “I was unaware you had any form of gun training.” She said to Alexei, who gasped in offense.

“I will have you know the Red Guardian is well-versed in many weapons. Guns, knives, rocket launcher,” your eyes widened, and you looked at him, excitement bubbling in your chest. “No!” He shot you down. “Do you see how much trouble we are in?” You slowly looked back at the trio.

“On a scale of 1 -10, how much trouble am I in?” You asked, staring at the ground, unable to look at the three women. Natasha sighed.

“You will be doing dishes for the rest of our trip,” you nodded. That was fair. Gently, Natasha lifted your head, and you stared into her green eyes. “No more weapon training without telling us.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, but the redhead kissed your forehead and hugged you. She smelt of garlic and onions.

“Scared the hell out of me, kid,” you nodded again. It wasn’t your intention, and you weren’t thinking when you asked Alexei. You felt tears form at the corner of your eyes, and she needed the hug far too soon for your liking. “Let’s see this grouping again.”

“What?” You questioned. Natasha pushed away a tear that escaped down your cheek.

“I’d like to see you shoot again. Make sure Alexei taught you correctly,” the man gasped, and it made you laugh. Before you picked up the gun, you apologized to Melina and hugged Wanda. With the short time you held a gun in your hand and shot it, it wasn’t your preferred weapon. However, with so many Black Widows in your life, you were going to keep that information to yourself.

Once the dishes were cleaned from dinner, it was another early night, but you could not sleep. Your sleep schedule was messed up with the time difference and the nap you took. So you got out of bed and walked out of the guest room. Melina had a bookshelf next to the dining room that you’ve been dying to look through. Many of the books in her collection were not in English, but you could tell they were science books. Your eyes found a photo album. Curiosity, you grabbed the album and flipped through it. Every photo was of two young girls: one blonde and one brunette. The images captured moments from Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving. “It’s not a good idea to snoop in a Black Widow’s home,” you jumped at Melina’s voice, almost dropping the album.

“It’s also not a good idea to sneak up on someone.” The Black Widow chuckled, and you put the album away, but Melina grabbed it and walked over to the dining room table. Wordlessly, you followed her and sat down.

“Do you know how I became Natalie’s and Yelena’s mama?”

“Kind of. Yelena said a mission brought all of you together.” Melina nodded; the photo album was stopped on Christmas. “I didn’t ask specifics.”

“The Red Room needed agents to act as an American family to steal some classified information,” she traced the faces of each little girl. “When the mission was over, we gave them back.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You questioned. Melina closed the album and placed her hands on top of it. She was staring intently at you, and you felt small under her gaze.

“I wasn’t the mother my girls needed,” you frowned and took her hand. You flipped it over so you could trace the lines on her palm. Her facial expressions softened at the gesture.

“Are you the mother they deserve now?”

“I do not know,” she admitted. “But I’m trying to be. Not all of us get the chance to get two,” you understood that. You were lucky that you overslept that day, which landed you in the cafe simultaneously. If you were there at your regular time, you could still be living on the streets or bouncing between shelters. What a crazy what-if. “Never take it for granted.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay them.” Melina smiled softly.

“Love them as much as they love you,” the Black Widow said. “That will be more than enough.”

You were up early to help Melina work outside with the pigs and her small garden. It was hard work, but Melina filled it with stories of their time in Ohio. Even Wanda brought out breakfast and helped out. You told her that the dishes would get done after you helped Melina. You sat back on your knees and stretched your neck. Picking weeds out of the dirt was not your idea of a fun time, but it beat cleaning the pig pen or doing the dishes. The sun felt different out here compared to Iowa and New York. You liked it, and it made you think about what Natasha asked you about - living somewhere like this. Away from the hustle and bustle of the big city. A place where you could get your dog and have them run around the backyard. It was a good idea, maybe one day. “Mama, are you overworking my niece already?” Your head wiped towards the voice. Yelena and Kate were talking in the garden. You jumped to your feet and ran over to them. The couple caught you as you threw yourself at them.

“I didn’t know you were coming to visit!” You smiled.

“That’s because it was a surprise, bud.” Kate laughed.

“Did you think I would subject you to a full day of Alexei’s torment without me?” You giggled. “I heard you got into a little trouble.” You awkwardly shrugged. “Proud of you.”

“Yelena, do not corrupt my granddaughter,” the older Black Widow came over to greet the newcomers. “Kate, how are you? Is Yelena treating you well?” The archer blushed.

“Yes, Melina. I’m doing great.” The blonde’s mouth hung open slightly.

“Come, I’ll make you something.” Melina put her arm around Kate and led her to the house. “Yelena, close your mouth. You’ll eat a fly.” You used your pointer finger to close her mouth, and she slapped your hand away.

“Unbelievable,” Yelena said once her girlfriend and mother were out of earshot. “She likes the people we bring home more than her daughters.” You smiled and lopped your arms through hers. “How do you like Russia?” She asked as you both walked towards the house.

“I like it!” You said. It was the truth. “Just different than Iowa and the city.” Yelena hummed in agreement.

“It took me a while to learn that the differences we see make for a wonderful world.”

taglist: @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe, @blackbirdv98 @arualdcg@yoyo-w @natbelovasblog, @johnnyhulu, @blackwidow-3, @theenglishswiftie, @faith-olsen

#lightning bug #wandanat x reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat x y/n #wandanat #bishlova #melina vostokoff #alexei shostakov

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pink-princess-pussy-pop · 1 year

Text

Roomies - Edmund Pevensie x Reader Modern AU!

Word count: 4.2k

I just had a glorious idea about a modern Narnia AU. I'm not British so lmao. Football in this means Soccer. slay

Fem identifying reader. Mention of having long hair.

Summary: Edmund is an asshole AND your roommate. But he also happens to be a really attractive asshole roommate. And apparently, a really possessive one too.

Warnings: Language, smut, mutual pining, SO SWEET at the end!!

I'm down bad for him

"What time will you be back today?" You and Edmund were in the kitchen, eating breakfast before your day of classes began.

You glanced at him, shirtless in all his glory, eating a piece of toast. He was leaning on the counter, watching you butter your own.

"My writing class was canceled so I will be back around 1." Edmund audibly sighs, a sign that he will definitely have company over at that time. "Don't ask me to stay on campus. Just because you can't keep it in your pants doesn't mean I should be exiled from my own home."

Edmund pushes himself off of the counter, chuckling to himself.

"I wasn't gonna ask you anything. I just didn't think you'd be one to listen though." Before you could respond, he was gone.

Several hours later, you pulled into your parking spot in front of your and Edmund's apartment. You had since forgotten about your earlier conversation until you opened your front door to hear the oh-so-delightful noises of Edmund's newest friend moaning at the top of her lungs.

You have to stop yourself from gagging.

"Jesus." The time was 1:30. You had given him thirty extra minutes. "I fucking hate him." This was untrue, as you really did not hate the handsome man who you lived with. Underneath your facade of disdain and disgust, lay your actual feelings toward your roommate. Ever since he took his sister Lucy's spot in the lease for her year abroad, you developed a minor, (major!!!), crush on him. And your feelings of disgust? Totally not jealousy!

You had spent the better half of the last five months trying not to listen to him and his lady friends in his room and pining over him from yours.

How could you not be attracted to Edmund Pevensie? A pre-law major with dark hair and dark eyes, and a dashing smile. Not to mention the spatter of freckles that covered his body, toned from years of playing football. Jesus, you were down so bad for your flatmate.

You set your stuff down on the couch in your shared living space and turned to the sink where his dishes lay, unclean. Still able to hear the actions of the lovely people downstairs, you turn your music up all the way to drown out the noise before unloading the dishwasher and loading it again with his dishes.

Minutes later, the front door opens and closes, signifying that Edmund's friend has left. You turn your music down and focused on the plate you are scrubbing, dried mac and cheese would not come out in the dishwasher, as Edmund walked up the stairs.

"Ah. So you are home." His accent makes you smile the slightest bit. You can see him in your peripheral, shirtless with grey sweats low on his hips. You move your eyes away quickly. "Did you enjoy what you heard, darling?" Rolling your eyes, you look at him, not giving into the flutter of your heart when he called you darling.

"You're a pig, Pevensie." You weren't anticipating his next move and were startled when his lips were suddenly on your cheek.

"You love me."

"Ew!" Glaring at him, you wipe the wetness from his lips off of your face and then wipe your hand on a paper towel only to find him grinning at you. You do a once-over of his uncovered torso, which you could now see was adorned with scratches and bruises. "Go put a shirt on." Edmund glances down, smile widening, before looking back at you.

"And cover up the view? Nah." You move to put the plate you had been washing away in the cabinet and then suddenly, Edmund is behind you, his body only inches from yours.

You try to ignore the heat radiating off of his bare skin and how his fingers brush yours when he reaches above you to grab a bowl. He steps away quickly and if he noticed a change in your demeanor, he didn't bring it up. You left the kitchen area, grabbed your backpack, and went to your room.

How in the world did he have this effect on you? As soon as your door was closed and you were safe in the comfort of your bedroom, you let out a sigh of relief. A buzz pulled your attention from your feelings toward Edmund to your phone.

r u going to the party tn???

It was your friend Alyssa, whom you had met freshman year in your Intro to Psychology class.

You know I don't like parties.

You flop on your bed, awaiting her pleading response. In truth, you didn't hate parties, you just didn't see the point in going out and getting drunk with strangers when you could get drunk in the pleasure of your own home.

im coming over at 8 and we are getting ready together

You knew there wouldn't be a point in fighting her on the topic since sooner or later she would have convinced you to go.

Hours later, after Edmund had left for his evening classes, and also the party you presumed, Alyssa knocked on your front door and seconds later walked into your room.

"Is he here?" You sit up on your bed, your book falling onto your comforter beside you.

"No." Alyssa had gone straight into your closet, pulling out an outfit for you to wear.

"Good. That way he won't know you are going tonight." Your eyebrow quirks up.

"What does that mean?"

She turned to you, a smirk gracing her tanned face.

"We both know that if your roomie knew you were going tonight, he would have texted all his little friends to keep away from you."

This was true and it was annoying, but one night while drunk, you had let it slip to him that you were a virgin. Since then, Edmund had made sure that no guys would talk to you at parties.

You made no effort to argue and reached over to pick up what she had chosen for you to wear. It was simple, a pair of faux leather pants and a black lace corset. (the urban one iykyk)

"Alyssa, I haven't worn this top out-"

"All the more reason to wear it tonight! C'mon! It will be fun! Besides, maybe Ed will finally take notice of your feelings and how hot you are."

"Alyssa!" She smiles.

"Ok fine. But maybe you'll meet another guy. Since our good friend hasn't had time to scare anyone away."

The idea intrigues you, maybe you'd have a good time tonight.

You notice what she is wearing, a pair of straight-leg jeans and a black tank top. She looks amazing, as always. You get up to sit at your desk to begin applying your makeup.

"So what do you suppose he will do when he sees you looking all sexy?"

"Nothing?" Your reply earns you an eyebrow raise.

"Nothing? You don't think he's gonna react at all?"

You shrug, leaning forward to perfect your winged eyeliner.

"There is nothing he can do now. If he wants to try and ruin my night, he can go ahead. If I'm going to this party, I intend on having a good time." Alyssa giggles.

"Maybe even get laid?" You whip around in your chair to glare at her.

"Seriously?" Her laughter grows.

"Hey, if not by Edmund, you're bound to find someone at this party!"

Your heart beats faster at the thought.

...

You and Alyssa arrive at the party at around eleven. It has been going on for about an hour so it had grown quite large. The other girls around you are dressed similarly to you, bringing some comfort into the oddness you felt about your appearance. Alyssa had requested you wear your hair down and straight and you obliged.

To be honest, you did look amazing. The corset had been a perfect fit, makes your chest look fantastic, and the pants fit you like a glove, hugging your ass so well that when you saw yourself in the mirror, you were surprised. The look was completed with your dark green platform converse, which somehow made you feel comfortable.

While walking through the crowd of people, you keep your eye out for a certain raven-haired boy, but couldn't seem to find him.

"Hey, don't think about him. Just have a good time." Alyssa nudges your arm and you nod, disregarding the looming thought of Edmund's reaction to your appearance at the party.

"You're right. I'm gonna go get a drink." You leave her in a room filled with sweaty university students to find the kitchen, where you presumed the alcohol to be.

To be honest? You felt great. You looked great and with no Edmund around, you had nothing to worry about. If you wanted to flirt with a cute guy, you would.

You round the corner and spot the kitchen, and a pack of Trulys, and made a beeline for the drinks. As you fish a black cherry seltzer out of the box you hear someone call your name.

"Y/N!" You turn abruptly and came face to face with a familiar face.

Sam, a friend of Edmund's from football, smiling at you.

"How are you?" Sam is very attractive, with blond hair and sparkly blue eyes, he's the complete opposite of Edmund.

"I'm alright." You smile at him.

"I didn't expect you to be here."

"Yeah, it was kind of a last-minute decision." You take a swig of your drink as he smiles down at you.

"Well, I'm glad. I was hoping I would be able to speak to you at some point. Ed's always telling the team to stay away from you." You roll your eyes.

"Sorry about that, I don't know why he does that. Is he here tonight?" Sam nods.

"Yeah, he's somewhere around here." Sam glances around, as if nervous that he'd get in trouble for talking to you. "Do you wanna dance?"

"Sure!" Sam takes your hand and leads you back into the room where you left Alyssa, back to the loud music and dancing. It is then that you see Edmund for the first time.

He's walking down the stairs holding hands with a pretty blonde girl who is dressed in a dark green slip dress. You wrap your arms around Sam and pull him into your body. His hands settle on your hips, fingers hooking onto your belt loops and pulling you closer.

You make eye contact with Edmund and his eyes widen and then narrow at the sight of you with Sam. You can see him mouth something to the girl he is with but instead of paying attention to him, you focus on Sam.

The two of you dance to the music and you forget about Edmund. You realize you have run out of your drink and tap Sam's shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just need another drink! Give me like fifteen minutes. I need to check on my friend, too." You smile at him before returning to the kitchen, where you happen to find Alyssa.

"Hi!" Lord, she is drunk. "I've missed you! Where have you been?" You giggle at her antics, pouring yourself a shot of vodka, the burning causing you to make a face as you take it.

"I've been dancing! With a guy named Sam from the football team!"

Her eyes widen in shock and she grins at you.

"OMG. Fucking finally!" She takes the initiative to pour you, and her, another shot.

...

Ten minutes later, and maybe 4 more shots later, you and Alyssa are drunk off of your asses.

"So you're telling me that if Sam wanted to take you home tonight, you'd say no?" Her arm is clasped around your forearm.

"Yes." You can't contain your giggling.

"But why? He's so hot and obviously into you!"

Your face flushes as you think of the real reason you don't want to spend the night with Sam.

"You know why." You take a sip of your newly opened Truly and glare at her.

A deadpan look blooms on her face.

"I forgot." Your eyes roll.

"Because I like someone else!" Alyssa gets really excited at this news.

"WHO?" You shush her, her voice well above the other chatter in the small kitchen you are in.

"You know who!" Her face contorts into confusion.

"No, I don't."

"It's..." You look around, suddenly very aware through your drunken haze, just to make sure there aren't any lurkers to hear your conversation. "It's Edmund!" You whisper.

"Oh! I did know that!" She giggles and takes a sip of her drink. "Yeah, I remember how you said you were jealous of all of the girls he fucked and how you wished he would-"

"Jesus Christ, Alyssa! Shut up!" She continues.

"just fuck you already!" Your face is red and you are mortified. Anyone passing by could have heard what you had been talking about. "Don't worry babe. Everyone here is way too drunk to even remember this conversation. I'm too drunk to remember this conversation!" A small smile graces your lips. "So, how do you want him to do it?" You hit her arm.

"Alyssa!"

"What? I wanna hear about your Edmund fantasies!" Your blush deepens. "C'mon!"

"Fuck- fine. I've always imagined him..." You cannot believe you are speaking your deepest secret aloud, at a party nonetheless. "I don't know. Cornering me in the kitchen." Alyssa squeals.

"Counter sex!" The girl is fucking giddy at the thought of you getting some action in your kitchen. You roll your eyes but nod.

"I guess..." Suddenly, you remember the nice boy you had been dancing with. "Shit! I have to go find Sam! He probably thinks I ditched him. Will you be ok?" She smiles and nods at you.

You trek back into the masses to find the blonde guy and he's right where you left him. You catch his eyes and smile.

"Hey! I'm so sorry. I found my friend and we ended up talking for a bit. I didn't mean to leave you here." He doesn't respond right away and looks away from your eyes, glancing around. "Is everything ok? You look uncomfortable."

"Listen, you are really nice but I don't think this is gonna work out." Confusion wipes across your face.

"What the hell? We were just dancing!" You don't understand what you could have done to make him act this way.

"It's not you, really. It's just-" You cut him off, suddenly very aware of what was happening.

"He told you to leave me alone, didn't he?" Sam looks apologetic as he nods.

"I'm sorry, I really like you." You run a hand through your hair.

"I'm so fucking done with this." You leave Sam and look around for the dark mess of hair you know so well. You're pissed. Even though you weren't going to do anything with Sam, you were still glad to have the option. You decided then and there that you were done with Edmund deciding things for you.

You found him in the kitchen, drinking a beer and laughing with some of his football mates.

"Edmund!" His head turns to you and he grins. "Stop fucking with me!" You somehow have the courage to get all up in his face. His stupid, Goddamn handsome face. "Stop telling any guy I see to stop talking to me. It's my fucking life. Stay out of it."

Edmund licks his lips and his gaze rakes down your body, making you very aware of the fact you are in lingerie in front of your roommate.

"Whatever you say, darling." His friends laugh and you leave before Edmund can see your face heat up. You find Alyssa dancing in the other room and pull her aside.

"I'm ready to leave whenever you are. I can't be around him right now." She nods frantically.

"Omg. Ok. Yeah, let's go!"

The two of you leave the party and begin the, thankfully short, walk to Alyssa's place.

"Do you wanna stay the night?" You thought about what would happen if you went home, would Edmund be home tonight? Would he not? You remember the blonde from earlier.

"No, I'll get an Uber home. I don't think he's going to be home anytime soon and I'd like to sleep in my own bed." Alyssa nods and the two of you talk until your Uber arrives.

"Text me when you get home." You nod and hug her.

"I'm sorry for making you leave early."

"No! If one of us wants to leave, we leave. That's the rule." She ushers you out of her door. "Sleep well!" A grin appears on her face. "With visions of Edmund dancing in your head!"

"Fuck off!" You glare before getting into the car.

As you expect, Edmund is not at the apartment when you get back and you are able to go to your room without him and blondie interfering. A small bubbling of jealousy and anger blooms in your gut when you think about what he is probably doing right now. With her. Shaking it off, you brush your teeth and slip into bed before falling asleep.

...

You wake up the next morning with a splitting headache. Groaning as you roll out of bed, you close your blinds to make your room dimmer. As you go upstairs you listen for any movement in Edmund's room, praying he isn't home yet. You breathe a sigh of relief when you're greeted with silence on the other side.

As you walk up the stairs, you halt in your tracks as you see him sitting on the couch. Clad in grey sweats and nothing else, he makes your heart flutter, even though you are pissed at him. You don't engage with him at all, avoiding his gaze as you walk to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

While opening the bottle of Advil you hear Edmund move from the couch. You take the meds and open the dishwasher to put your glass inside. When you stand, Edmund is behind you, his hands set on the counter, effectively caging you in. Your breath catches in your throat.

"So, is this how you imagined it?" His voice is right next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Me fucking you in the kitchen?" Your eyes widen in shock. His lips graze your neck as he murmurs... "Answer me." Your words are stuck in your throat, thoughts going wild in your head.

Had he heard you and Alyssa last night?

You are brought out of your thoughts when Edmund dips his head further down and kisses where your neck meets your shoulder. "C'mon hun, let me make make you feel good." His lips travel up to your throat and you melt back into his body. He whispers in your ear, "Please?"

His hands leave the counter to rest on your waist, his fingers just slightly touching your bare skin where your shirt had been riding up moments before.

"Don't make me beg, love." He turns you around, bringing his body closer to you. You don't reply, too flustered with his actions to say anything. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Ok, fine. I'll beg." He grins.

Edmund's hands reach down to pick you up, setting you on the counter. He steps in between your legs, setting his hands on your thighs while his thumbs draw circles on your bare skin.

"Do you know how many times I've thought about surprising you in the shower? Just so I could see you naked?" His gaze is still trained on your eyes. "Do you know how many times I've heard you touching yourself in your room? Wishing it was me who was making you feel that way?" He looks down at your lips and then back up to your eyes. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this moment? Last night? After I saw you dancing with Sam in that outfit... You looked stunning, my love." He moves to be right above your face, his lips so close they could touch yours. "So many Goddamn times, baby. So please," He pouts the slightest bit. "Let me make you feel good."

Kiss me.

As if he could read your mind, he does. Your hands fly to his hair and pull him into you even more, his lower half fully against you.

And oh.

Oh.

You pull away, looking down at his hips with wide eyes. Edmund laughs.

"Darling this is what you do to me. Every." He kisses your shoulder. "Bloody." Your neck. "Day." Your jaw. He pulls away so you are able to see him. His perfect hair, and his perfect smile, and his perfect freckles.

And the fucking devil in his eyes.

"So are you going to let me act on your fantasies? Or are we just going to go back to you thinking about me when you touch yourself at night and me pretending not to get off on it?" You lean forward to kiss him again and he leans back, running his tongue over his lips. "Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?" A deep blush blooms on your cheeks.

"Yes." It's barely above a whisper but it's audible. When he hears your response, he smiles again.

"Fucking finally."

His lips return to yours and his grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you against him again. You tighten your thighs around him, reveling in the taste of his lips.

"Oh my God." He murmurs against your lips. Your hands travel down his neck and to his bare shoulders and your nails dig into his skin just a bit, making him hiss in sweet pain.

"Fuck." His hands start to pull at your shorts. "Off. Now." You lift yourself up so he can pull them down, along with your underwear. He groans as he looks down. "Bloody hell." One of his hands wipes over his face, taking you in. His bottom lip pulls in between his teeth as he looks into your eyes again. "Darling, I'd absolutely love to taste you but I'm afraid I'll explode if I don't fuck you soon." His fingers find his waistband and he pauses at your wide eyes. "Do you want to do it?"

Holy Hell you can feel the effects of his words on the surface below you. He gently grabs your hands, setting them on his hips. "Go ahead." You do as your told and push the fabric down his thighs. You look away, not quite ready to take witness to your roommates dick.

"I need you to say it one more time. Do you want this?" You look into his eyes.

"Yes." He smiles, his lips on yours and brings himself to your core.

"Take a deep breath, my love." When you do, Edmund pushes into you. The pain takes you by surprise and you let out a grunt of pain. He catches your lips with his and draws patterns on your skin with his free hand. Your nails dig into his back once again and he groans into your mouth when he bottoms out. "If you keep doing that I'm not going to last long." He begins moving very slowly. The pain slowly becomes pleasure. "I wanna make this good for you."

You drop your head to his shoulder.

"Oh my god, Ed it's-." His mouth is close to your ear making you hear all of the sounds he's making. "Fuck!"

"Holy shit."

"Ed-" You gasp, hands on his shoulders, as he stops moving.

"Please don't make me stop. I've been wanting this for so long." He lays his forehead on your shoulder and you can tell it's taking every ounce of his self-control not to move.

"No- I was just gonna ask if..." You pause to catch your breath. "if you could go faster.

"Jesus. You're perfect." His breath on your skin makes you flush again and then, the wonderful sensation you had felt moments before begins again.

"You're doing so well, love. So well."

Edmund begins to pick up his pace and you whine into his neck.

"Oh-" Edmund's fingers are suddenly on your clit, forcing your thighs to tighten around his. Your hips rock into his as you feel yourself begin to near your high. With his fingers on your clit, his bruising grip on your thighs, and his fucking dick inside of you, it takes only a few more seconds before you are releasing around him. Edmund moans after feeling you squeeze around him and it's the sexiest thing you've ever heard.

"You're so fucking perfect."

He releases soon after and he catches his breath.

He pulls away, looking at your face.

"Are you ok?" You smile.

Despite his asshole actions of the past 24 hours, Edmund does truly care about you. He's always taken care of you. He always made sure you had dinner, would always cover you with a blanket if you had fallen asleep upstairs, always made you tea and soup when you were sick.

"I'm perfectly fine." You grin at him.

You remember all of his comments to you, all of the pet-names he's called you.

"Ed, how long? How long have you wanted this?" He grins back at you.

"My love it was you the moment Lucy brought you home to visit during Christmas."

"Edmund that was three years ago!" His smile grows.

He dips down to kiss you.

"I'm a patient man."

Wait i heart them

I hope that was enjoyable l o l.

#narnia #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #king edmund the just #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader smut #narnia smut #tvotdt #tvdt

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uglypastels · 10 months

Text

Not Wholly Evil |VI| pirate!Eddie au

Happy Fourth of July/Tuesday (depending on what you celebrate).

Series Masterlist

word count: 6.1k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying.

Chapter 6: Shiver Me, Timbers “Why won’t you leave me alone?” “Then I’d be alone, too." ― Leigh Bardugo, Siege and Storm

Despite the fact you had your new room waiting for you upstairs, once Munson left you, all you could force yourself to do was lie down. With deep breaths, you steadied your heartbeat and let a soft slumber fall over you. Just enough to regain some energy and hopefully for the pain to pass.

You fell into a dreamless slumber, simply hovering in an abyss between worlds. It was plain and peaceful. Beautiful, to say the least. Away from all the nuisance and filth that was actually around you. None of the noise.

Just a voice.

It called to you, and your name sounded so lovely coming from his lips. So lovely, in fact, that you awoke with the ghost of a smile still haunting your lips. You wiped it off together with the sleep from your eyes.

The sun still shined, but less brightly so. The shadows grew longer around you as evening came near. As you tried to move, you groaned out, everything feeling stiff and tortured, your side pinching where the skin was trying to heal slowly. The floor was certainly not the place to do so, but fortunately, you would only have to stay there a little longer. Slowly, not wanting to make any erratic moves, you made your way up again. But before you got too far up the steps, already knowing you were not planning on ever returning down there, you grabbed the long sheath of fabric you had used for curtains around your cell.

The difference between the deck from before you had left it was like day and night. No longer was the crew huddled around in groups and yelling and cheering. Playtime was over. Now, all the deck crew were busy cleaning the floors pulling ropes or… well, you were not entirely sure what needed to be done, but they were doing it, and it seemed to be working smoothly. Certainly, they had enough on their plates to be bothered by you walking by… at least, too busy to stop and stare. You still caught a few pained glances. You weren’t sure if you preferred their pity over their anger, thirst or intimidation. It fell somewhere in between, presumably.

On your way up to the quarter deck, you caught sight of Harrington, who was busy pulling at one of the larger ropes at the ship. His shirt sleeves were pulled up, so you could see the strain he put on his arms with each move. His veins were mixed with various scars. Everyone around the ship seemed to have them. Pain was not an option on the Hellfire. It was the price.

Without having a moment to criticise your actions, you called out to him. As he looked up, shocked or somewhat confused, there was a second in which he lost control of the rope. It slipped past his hands and started to unravel. You were ready to run up and help somehow, but he managed to pull it back. The response from the men around him was nothing but unimpressed grunts.

‘I am so sorry,’ you said as you walked up, bunching up the fabric in your arms as pieces fell to the ground. There was more you wanted to say, but you kept it to yourself.

Harrington huffed out. He pulled more of the rope, letting it circle around his shoulder. He was not looking at you as he asked: ‘Are you okay?’

‘I think so.’ You looked down. Now shredded to pieces, the bottom of your shirt had soaked up most of the blood, and the red stain shone like a bright fire against the pale white.

‘Good.’ He nodded once and did not say another thing. ‘I should get back—’ he nodded toward whatever he was trying to pull with the rope, despite never having stopped or looked away.

‘Ah, of course, you stumbled, taking steps back. The message was clear. Why in the world had you approached him? Or tried to glance at him as you walked away? The sheets kept falling out of your arms, and it was a hassle to keep it all together.

‘Do you—’ someone asked, but you quickly shut them up with a decline of whatever offer they were making.

‘No, thank you!’ there was an attempt at civility.

There was no fear this time as you walked up the stairs leading to the captain’s—nay, your—quarters. In fact, you were filled with confidence that you had not felt in a long time. One that even a stab, or a cut, in the ribs, could not break apart. With your hands full, you kicked the door open, perhaps a bit harder than anticipated. Across the room, a pair of eyes shot up to look at the commotion, but they disappeared just as quickly under the curtain of dark bangs.

‘In case you forgot,’ you said, head held high, scrunching the sheet tighter, ‘this is my room now.’

‘The bed is all yours, princess.’ Munson refrained from looking up at you again, instead holding a sensible interest in the papers in his hand. But then he glanced up briefly. ‘Planning on redecorating already?’ He got back to his business.

‘Thought I might need it as another cover, in case the night got cold. Or a pillow.’ You moved towards the bed, still unmade from that morning when you left it. Your dress still hung at the bedpost. The captain nodded at your answer but did not resume the conversation any further.

You had not contemplated this and had very little ability to affect it. You might have won the bed chambers, but the captain’s office still needed use… and considering these were in the same space…

Now, you had dared a lot in your time aboard this ship, including duelling the captain, but seeing how that had turned out, you were not willing to risk such games anymore. And so, you did not try to fight it but instead sat on the bed and stared ahead at the map that hung across from you. The only sound in the cabin was the quill scratching of the captain as he made notes over all his other notes on the topic of more notes.

You did your best to make yourself comfortable on the bed, moving around, shifting your weight from side to side, and pushing the covers and pillows up to give you more support. It was quite noisy, but it had not been done intentionally. Despite what your amusement might have come from the agitated looks of the captain could say on the matter.

‘Is this what you’re planning on doing with your day?’ He mumbled, still not looking at you. It was as if he didn’t dare catch your eye any longer, but that did not stop him from talking to you like before.

‘I am simply trying to make myself comfortable,’ you said, fluffing a pillow, slapping it as hard as possible. Some of the feathers flew out with it.

‘And must you do that while I am working?’ He put down some of the papers in frustration.

‘Remind me,’ you leaned back, the fluffed pillow doing very little in favour of your back, ‘what is it exactly that a sea urchin like you does?’

The captain sighed and leaned back on his throne. It seemed smaller than the first time you saw it. Less… menacing. ‘Well, making sure that things are run tight on the ship so we don’t die at sea in a crash of fire and timber, for a start. Then, just on the side, I am trying to find the fastest route to bring the princess home. Sound like a good day’s job?’ He spat your nickname out, and hearing that anger made you feel sicker than ever you had heard it before. So, you didn’t reply to him but turned your head the other way, facing the disorganised shelves of books. With one astronomy volume missing, the rest still looked on the brink of falling apart. It was stomach-churning to look at, and the next two minutes you spent in silence were enough to make your mind up.

You got up on your feet too fast, sending a rush of pain into your ribs and a dizzying sensation into your brain, but once that faded, you made your way over to the books and started picking them out, one by one. Each fell loudly on the ground. It took four of these deafening drops for Munson to get up and shout: ‘What are you doing?’

‘Redecorating,’ you made a quarter of a turn and looked as naively at him as possible.

‘And you think the books will look better on the ground?’ He was already stepping away from his seat, half behind his desk and ready to leap to the books.

‘No, but I do think they would look better organised.’ You pulled out a few more books, each falling on top of the previous.

‘They—’ Munson stormed over to you, mumbling in curses about God and whatnot. ‘They are organised.’ He pulled the book you had just picked up out of your hand. Suddenly, there wasn’t an entire room between you, but only a few inches, and it all became a bit too real as his presence was always so quick to tower over you. ‘Meticulously so, may I add.’ He put the book back where it belonged. You took another look at the books, apprehensive of the statement.

‘Then, please, enlighten me on this system.’ From what you had observed, none of it made sense. Munson contemplated beginning what you could only assume was an excruciatingly long and painstakingly precise explanation of this system but stopped himself mid-first syllable: ‘I do not have time to entertain you. Stay away.’ He backed away. ‘And put those back as you found them...Please.’ It was a miracle he had learned that word.

‘Fine,’ you spat out, only to then ask much more calmly, ‘can I at least read them?’ You doubted these books had fulfilled any of their purposes in a long time. Munson may indulge in the accessorisation of his bookshelf, but he did not seem to be much of a reader since there was nothing else to do on this blood-boiling ship…

‘Yes, alright, if it keeps you quiet.’ He waved you away dismissively as he got back to the desk. You watched how he moved, hand rubbing over his jaw as he scratched at the stubble that was apparently becoming a common characteristic of his now. That was combined with the blood red of his knuckles as if he had hit something hard. You wondered where the damage was—clearly not in this room, as you could not see any broken furniture, walls, or shards of anything.

It hurt to bend over, so you manoeuvred to sit down and slowly put the books back in their designated spot. All you could do to ignore the lingering stare you were given from Munson was to try and organise the books in your head. Epic poetry could go on the top shelf, followed by the sciences. Map journals would go below that, and then… then the diary logs. Were those his? Highly unlikely he would leave his own writings out in the open like this and then let you read them. You picked one out at random.

It was bound in black leather, nothing written on it, but inside, the pages were clearly used and covered in ink, ready to fall out as you opened it. You glanced at the first page. The scribbling was barely unintelligible. For one, the handwriting the original scrivener had put down was tiny and messy, but also because any other free space on the page was used with notes in a different hand. The annotations were made in different ink, though both were black naturally and the letters a bit more manageable. They mainly consisted of deciphering the words that had originally been written, and soon you were to find out that the handwriting was one of many obstacles in understanding the text.

It was a code.

All of it, and someone had taken a painstaking amount of time to decode all the cryptic messages left.

‘Who is this Captain James?’ You asked as you walked to the chair before the desk since the bed only felt okay for lying in. Munson did not look up as you made yourself comfortable before him.

‘Old Man Jim, captain of the Gold Tiger,‘ he sighed, only briefly glancing up to catch any sign of recognition on your face, which was lacking, and so he continued. ‘I’m surprised your father had not told you anything about him; he was quite renowned for his… expeditions. Stole from any family he came to contact with, then buried all his treasures somewhere before disappearing—not before writing it all down in here, however.’

‘He wrote down how to find the treasure?’ You raised a brow.

‘Among other things.’

‘Why let me read it then? What if I figure this out?’

‘Two simple reasons, princess,’ he put his quill down and, crossing his arms, looked directly at you. ‘Whoever had decoded his messages in the first place was probably even cleverer than Jim, so it’s all just more riddles for you to figure out and second… it’s been decades since he wrote that journal. The treasure is long gone.’

‘What do you mean it’s gone?’

‘As in, taken. No longer there.’ He blinked. ‘Now, if you will excuse me.’ He reached for the apple that stood on top of a pile of parchments, but you were quicker. Munson stared blankly at you as you leaned back in your chair and bit it into it proudly.

‘Did you, by any chance, hit your head during our match?’ He watched you flip more of the pages in the journal. The notes were, indeed, all written in another code. He briefly explained his question: ‘You seem… different.’

‘No, I suppose you simply rubbed off on me.’ Like a disease. You smiled.

‘Well, then, I’m glad my company has favoured you in some way.’ He wrote something down with his quill as you glared at him and snapped the momentary silence with a bite of the apple. Then, he got up and pushed his throne back, scraping the wood horribly. ‘I’m sad to admit I can’t spend more time enduring your questions, but I’m required somewhere else.’

‘Coincidentally, I’ve been waiting for you to say that since I walked in.’

‘I’m very happy to see you still have your sense of humour.’ He got up. ‘But will you be keeping the shirt?’

‘I don’t have anything else to wear,’ you weren’t planning on putting the dress back on. After spending half a day in these trousers and shirt, you realised the torture of all the other layers. The weight of it all alone.

‘Hadn’t stopped you before.’ Munson nodded over to the wardrobe.

‘You want me to take your clothes?’ You ate some more of the apple.

‘I’m sure it’s more preferable than being covered in blood.’

‘It is not us troublesome as you’d imagine, actually,’ then you looked up at him again with realisation, ‘unless… are you bothered by it, captain?’

‘I’m alright.’

‘Great. Then that is settled.’ You leaned back in the chair and took another bite of the fruit. The sweetness of it was like a reward for everything you had to put up with. Munson clenched his jaw, but there was little else he could do, so he walked away just as he had announced. You ignored his walk towards the door and only moved once you heard the familiar door closing behind him. Not wanting to waste a moment, you got up, ignoring that stitch in your side again, and moved across the desk. It had been naive to think that when you looked down, you would find the drawer still open, but as luck would have it, it actually was.

However, not all the luck was on your side because when you pulled the drawer open, you only saw the bottles inside—now counting one less than in the morning, but only bottles nonetheless. The piece of the letter was gone. You searched underneath the glass to ensure, even under the desk and its surroundings.

Glancing up at the door every few moments and listening to what was happening outside, you carefully poked around at the things on the bureau. No, it was definitely gone.

Munson must have moved it. You cursed at yourself. Then, did he also know you had seen it? You knew it was wrong to go through his belongings, but you did not feel any guilt. That had left you when you were thrown in that cell all those days ago.

And so, you kept looking, cursing him after going through every book on the shelf and not finding it, then through the nooks of the wardrobe as you picked out a new shirt to wear, throwing the old one on top of the captain’s throne. It was somewhat of a sensitive operation, this search. You tried to be inconspicuous about it and let it spread over the next few days, making sure you did not make too much of a mess as you went through the drawers and items lying around to not cause any suspicion. Most of the days, looking went by in the exact same way.

You did not know if the captain went in on your deal and slept in the cell or elsewhere. It did not really matter, either, since all that was important was that you got to sleep in a bed. He could sleep with the sharks for all you cared. Either way, he seemed well-rested. When you would awake each morning, the captain was usually already at his desk, your breakfast at the table, and you would eat it as he worked. Trying not to take up too much of the other’s space, only interrupting it with minor remarks here and there that would make you simultaneously laugh and grind your teeth with annoyance. Sometimes, other crewmen would walk in to discuss various matters, ignoring you for the most part. You listened but barely weight in on the conversation, more so out of a lack of interest than anything.

The contributors in these meetings would vary, depending on the issues to be discussed, but Harrington and Robin would frequently be a part of them, clearly having a larger role in the crew than you had anticipated. Robin would sometimes ask your opinion, much to the shock of the others and yourself.

You looked up from your book, wide-eyed and taken aback, pretending to not know what they were speaking of, as if you had not been listening intently to every word.

‘I would say, go West.’ Mostly you would agree with Robin's suggestion, just to see Munson scowl, think it through once more, and eventually settle on the same answer himself.

Harrington would not even look your way. You had noticed him going out of his way to stand with his back towards you, eyes always on the captain. You could not even understand why it bothered you so much, seeing you had only spoken once before all this; you felt a gnawing feeling in your gut… or maybe it was only the wound at your ribs.

In the ongoing days, you checked how it was healing, and it seemed fine. Magically, there was no infection, maybe thanks to the alcohol you had poured over it. Finally, it was barely visible beside a paling bruise around it and the scar— large but still thinner than the ones you saw carried around by others on board. Maybe one day you would even forget it was ever there.

In the hours when it was just you and him, it was mostly quiet. You’d both read, only a desk between you, barely paying attention to the other until one would leave the room. Usually, he would do so first, and you’d take the opportunity to search for that cursed letter.

Other times, you’d grow tired, or your legs would become stiff, and you’d go out onto the deck first, leaving the captain to work on his own. Then afterwards, you’d return to the cabin, and your dinner meal would be waiting for you on the desk, and you’d read until sleep took over. You’d wake up the following day, and everything would start over.

When you were outside, you would mostly keep to yourself, knowing that the last thing the crew would want to deal with is to talk to you, and in your case, you had very little to say to them. Really, the only person you spoke to was Buck—or Robin, as she also went by, you had noticed—whenever she was not in her nest. You’d find a little less crowded spot on the ship and talk about whatever came to mind, or at least that is what you wanted it to sound like, while you tried to find out more about her, the rest of the ship and the captain.

‘So, how long have you been apart of this crew?’ It was a warm afternoon, a typical summer’s day, but the clouds had been appearing more and more recently and had now taken centre stage in the sky. The wind picked up, too, as you sat down with Robin. You wanted your questions to sound off the cuff and not as if you had been noting them down in your mind at night. Unfortunately, Robin was not the easiest to get information out of… well, depending on what kind of information you sought since she tended to talk a lot but not say much with her words.

‘I honestly don’t remember when it was; it must have been years, time moves weirdly when you’re out on the sea, but I was dragged into it when bloody King Steve—’

‘King Steve?’ you asked, not recognising the name. Over the few days, she had been mentioning most of the crew, and you had tried to learn them, but this was a new one.

‘Oh, Harrington— we call him that because, uhm he was a royal guard.’

This piece of information shook you. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, met the king and all that— don’t know which king that was, but apparently, he doesn’t like toasted bread, the king, if you’d believe that. I mean, who does not like toasted bread? That feels like a bigger crime than whatever we have ever done—’

‘What have you done?’ You had quickly realised it was easier to try and keep up with what Robin had to say than revert her back to previous topics, and so, despite your longing for more information about Harrington’s life before Hellfire, you asked about the issue at hand.

‘What haven’t we done,’ she chuckled nervously, ‘but I probably shouldn’t be telling you about that. Don’t think cap would like you knowing.’

‘I am not bothered by what the captain likes or does not like.’

‘Yes, but…’ she struggled to find her words. ‘I mean, he told us—’ Robin faded out, her shoulders stiffened as a harsher wind blew. ‘Did that feel normal to you?’

‘I think so. But he told you what?’ You knew Munson ran a tight ship, but you had not thought he would ban his crew from talking to you about things. Did he have such significant secrets to go so far?

‘Nothing. I didn’t say anything—did I say anything? You should probably ask— no, don’t ask Steve—I mean…’ Thunder rumbled in the distance, and she looked up, but you kept your eyes on her, unphased.

‘I’ll go ask Harrington, then.’ You said, exasperated, as Robin stared out above you without the intention of coming back down.

‘No, don’t! It will only–’ she got up after you, already reaching for your arm, but more thunder echoed with menace like a cannon. She looked around frantically, cursing, then turned back to you. ‘Is the captain upstairs?’

‘I—I think so.’ You couldn’t possibly know except that he had been there when you left, and you had not seen him around the deck since, either. Robin tightened her grip on your arm lightly, subconsciously, before letting go and running off, but not before saying:

‘Just stay here, okay?’ without giving you any moment to respond. It had all happened so quickly that you stayed put for the sake of your own brain trying to catch up on what had happened. Everything that Robin had said, or rather had not said. More clouds appeared, darker than their usual counterparts that had followed your journey. The wind picked up as well.

‘What happened to Buck?’ A not-so-familiar-anymore voice asked behind you. You turned to see Harrington, Steve, whatever his name was. His shoulder was already almost against yours. How you had not even heard him walk so closely up to you was a wonder. But since he was here already… Robin had told you to not move, so you remained where she left you.

‘She— I’m not sure; she heard thunder and ran off to speak to the captain.’ Exactly then, as if you had cued it, a lighting strike appeared, slashing through the sky like a knife. The thunder followed behind at its own pace.

‘I’m sure it’s nothing,’ Harrington comforted, ‘she’s probably notifying him of the weather.’

‘Well, I doubt he missed that,’ you said, breathing in slowly, washing off the skip in your heart that came with the lightning.

‘Not an enjoyed of storms?’ Harrington observed.

‘More when I am not about to sail right into it.’ You had heard too many stories of ships going missing in waves, being washed away by the rain, or burned by the fire that came with lightning. It did not feel inviting.

‘We’re not,’ Steve reassured you, ‘we will probably turn around, find somewhere to wait it out.’ And you would have believed him, certainly appreciated his efforts in comforting you, except you knew that Hellfire was nowhere near any safe piece of land or calm water. Not to mention, the wind was blowing you in the direction of those lightning strikes. Where else were you to go? But when the thunder boomed over you, it still felt reasonably far away. There was time, so you focused on issues much closer to you. Specifically, shoulder-to-shoulder.

‘She told me something quite interesting, you know.’ You said, looking out ahead at where the clouds were the darkest. Yes, that must be miles away.

‘Robin says a lot of interesting things.’ He had already distanced himself by several inches.

‘Well, it was more what she had not said, or rather, could not say, that was so interesting.’

‘I’m not sure I follow.’ Steve said, clearly nervous. That was visible enough by the way how he started to look around.

‘I got this feeling that there were, or rather, there are, things people are keeping from me, on behalf of the captain.’

‘We’re all simply following orders.’ Harrington sighed.

‘So what are you orders then?’ You looked him directly in the eyes. His were brown too, much like the captains, and yet entirely different. Colder, darker, and yet as inviting.

‘I can’t—’ He took another step back, looking up at the quarter-deck as if he had been caught red-handed stealing. But there was no one there or paying attention to the two of you. Not when the clouds grew larger and darker and the air felt denser. That density only came with rain. ‘Look, he means the best for you.’

‘We both know that is a lie. He doesn’t care about me.’

‘He might not be able to show it—’ More lightning came over you. The thunder followed in mere seconds. It was getting closer and much faster than you had anticipated. Steve looked around at his fellow crew members, who all had the same panic-stricken lines on their faces, and suddenly everything around began to move much faster. ‘Go inside and… and stop whatever you’re doing. Before you get us all into trouble.’ His words didn’t fall heavy onto you. It wasn’t a threat. Because whatever the consequences would be, whatever Munson had promised for going against his orders, was not detrimental. He was not someone that was feared by his people. That much you knew.

Harrington grabbed your shoulder and pushed you towards the stairs of the quarter deck, but you resisted, demanding answers.

‘How do I get us in trouble, what am I doing–’

‘Stop talking, please.’ He was ready to pick you up to get you out of the open air. The first droplets began to fall on your face. They were cool to the touch, a surprisingly nice change from the hot and salty air that came with every day. As the rain fell, you stared deeply into his eyes, hoping it would break a wall in him, but it cracked something in you instead.

‘Did he tell you not to speak to me.’

Harrington said nothing, and in many ways, that was worth more than a million words. And while before he tried to get you upstairs, he now reached for you as you ran up to the cabin, but you were already gone. The rain grew harsher; you walked into the room, door slamming up against the wall, with your hair already glued to your face, which was heating up with anger.

Munson and Robin looked up at you, frazzled.

‘You,’ you raged, ‘had no rights to do that.’ More thunder clapped. The wind rushed by you through the open door. Robin walked up to the window to see the waves crashing against the back of the ship and the rain that poured down into it like a curtain of steel bullets.

‘Buck, go check on the rest; tell them our plan.’ Munson said, composed, ‘and close the door.’ The wind was picking up at all the loose pieces of paper around him. Robin nodded and swiftly made her way out of the room. For the first time, she said nothing to you as she passed, closing the door. Immediately, with the wind now blocked by the walls, it was painfully quiet.

‘There is a lot I do not understand about you, much I do not need to understand, nor want to, but I demand you to explain why you banned your crew from speaking to me.’ Your face was damp from the rain, so who could tell if tears had become mixed between them.

‘I did no such thing,’ he grabbed the loose pieces of paper that had flown away with the wind. He was moving in a rush.

‘We both know that is not true.’ You both walked, meeting in the middle, nearly chest to chest.

‘I do not have time for this, princess.’

‘Well, make time then.’ You could not let this be over. You wanted answers.

‘Do you not see what is happening out there,’ with the last ounce of humour left in him, he pointed at the window, though through the heavy rainfall, barely anything was visible.

Munson walked by your side, and when you went to follow him, not wanting to give up so soon, he turned around, his nose almost smashing into yours. ‘Stay here.’ He growled.

‘No.’ You said back.

‘Stay, or I swear, to all things sacred and not, I will chain you to that bed.’ Between his words, he had found a grip on your wrist, and it tightened with each syllable. You blinked away the flinch of pain, and something about that made him back out. ‘Stay.’ His last word before leaving you was a whisper. It echoed in your mind.

And so, you stayed, kicking at the door with a scream of frustration. Just when you thought that things weren’t as bad when you thought you had found a place for yourself around, a stone was turned, and the truth was revealed, and how much longer could you keep doing this?

Tired and not wanting to fall to the ground, you sat on the bed. A thought occurred to you that you could go around and just destroy everything in your sight. Let the storm take the blame for the mess you would cause, whether it eventually would reach this room or not. You wanted to throw all those books off their shelves, tear his clothing to pieces, burn all those papers on his desk and rip everything off the walls— the maps, the tapestry, the notes—

How long had that been there?

You must have stared at that wall for hours in the past weeks, so why had you not noticed the dagger in the corner of the wall. It was struck deep into the wall, holding up several layers of paper, but the one most recently added, right on top of the pile… you recognised the scorch marks.

Why did this letter stay on your mind for so long? Why did it make you search every inch of this room? You couldn’t quite explain it besides maybe seeing it as a kind of purpose. You had given yourself a goal to find it, and now, as you walked closer, you may have done it.

It had been turned backwards, now only showing an old piece of paper, only adorned by water damage and blackened edges. The knife had been pushed deep into the wood behind it, and you had to pull it a few times before getting it out. Immediately, a stack of paper fell to the ground. You picked them up and put them on the desk but took one back to the bed. There, you searched through the sheet you had taken from the below deck, where you had, hopefully, kept the other note. The one you had found in one of the chests. The one that had kept you sane, giving you a spark of hope for humanity as it reminded you that somewhere in the world, love still existed.

Both papers were damaged, so the fit was imperfect, but the sentences aligned perfectly.

My dearest,

The nights have been cruel, but I spend them thinking of you, and suddenly, the dark sky does not feel so heartless anymore.

I think of your eyes. The sea reminds me of them— it is a calming sight each morning, and I imagine you looking out of your window at the shore, and perhaps we look up at the same clouds, and it is like you are right by my side and the wind feels not as harsh suddenly. More like a kiss straight from your lips.

Some days I hum the words of that song you sang to me. I know what you have said about my voice, and the kind words still warm my heart, but they will never compare to yours. I will never do the melody justice. Only you behold such talents.

To be able to hold you once again, to hear your voice, is the only thing that keeps me strong. I count down the days until I can tell you all these things while you lay in my arms, and I can feel your heartbeat against my palms. But for now, this must make due, sweetest, and I can only hope that when I close my eyes, I will envision you.

The last thing I will say to you is that I still have that dream some nights, the one we spoke of before I left. That we sail away from everything and create our own piece of paradise.

I hope you do too.

Forever yours,

—

The letter's ending had been burned off, concealing its signature, but you did not need to read it. You knew precisely what had once stood there, and upon your realisation, you could not believe that it had taken you this long to see what was right in front of you all along. After all, you had stared at the same handwriting for days in this room. On the notes scribbled in a rush, the margins and annotations of the books, but most importantly, the map you fell asleep staring at, the large cross over your home. It was all one hand.

In shock, you reread the letter, trying to understand what was written there. As you did so, somewhere aboard, fearful yells erupted as the waves grew higher and the wind became angrier, and the rain more painful. Everything felt askew as the ship lost its balance on the water.

Chapter 7

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missglaskin · 1 year

Text

An Eye for A Bride

Part 1

The story contains trigger warnings read at your own caution

Reader takes Lucerys’ place. And to be exclusive, the reader is adopted but has Targaryen blood. SPOILER ALERTS FOR FIRE AND BLOOD

TAGS: Sadistic/Dark!Aemond, EXPLICIT: Noncon/Dubcon, forced anal, manhandling. Violence: blood, abuse, character death, bruises/scars, choking, panic attacks, cursing. Forced Marriage, Toxic/unhealthy relationship, Flashbacks.

“A sword?” The prince asks, blinking a few times. It was his tenth name-day. Presented with extravagant gifts as fitted for a prince. Yet yours was an odd surprise. Considering how you haven't always been the friendliest to him, he looks at the gift suspiciously.

Maybe he thought this was your of making it up to him. You did laugh at him. When your brother Luke emerged from the shadows with a pig. Shouting along the name of the said pig. "The Pink Dread!" Laughing harder when Aegon oinked to his ear.

But you did approach Aemond the next day. Who sat near the tree with a book in his hand. The two of you stared at each other for a brief moment. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. You just turned around and walked away from the prince.

You decided to approach him once more. The word spread of him attempting to claim a dragon, nearly getting burned in the process. Yet your steps were halted when you caught sight of his mother. You quickly turned away, unaware the prince saw you do so.

This time, you were able to face the prince with the sword you had given; displayed to the entirety of the room along with its sheath. Among the crowd, you catch Alicent's anxious expression. She perhaps believes her son is too young to handle such a sword. She was right to think so because as soon as Aemond removes it from its sheath, the sword's tip drops to the ground. Almost sending him flying.

Aemond’s embarrassment is clearly seen as he hears the laughter of the other boys. Especially by Aegon's remark that the sword would have to serve as a decoration than be wielded. But the instant Aemond looks down, his brother's remark is ignored.

The surprise and awe are too much for him to contain. The sword was beautiful with its sapphire-encrusted rain guard. A deep royal blue. The most valuable and scarce of all. He lifts the sword with all of his strength, revealing it to the others as they all let out a collective gasp.

“It was once my necklace.” Your mother reluctantly agreed to have the blacksmith put it in the sword. It took all your pleading for it to happen. Hearing Aemond scoff at your words makes you frown. You already know what he's thinking-that you were her little spoiled princess.

Still, you forced the thought aside to focus on the prince whose wonderment at your gift fills you with a sense of fulfillment. Even more at the sight of Aegon's envy. Finally, Aemond was content with having what his brother lacked. You tried to conceal your excitement when Aemond gave a sincere smile of gratitude.

At your aunt Laena's funeral, when you saw him again, you returned his half-smile unlike your brother Jace. You were unaware this would be the last time you and him will ever greet each other warmly.

As the night ended with Aemond screaming clutching his bloody eye as you towered over him with a blade. Dropping it when the king's guards arrived. Frozen and horrified as you hear shouts at every turn. Clutching to your mother’s side.

The noises never left your ears. From every corner, there were shouts. The council left divided. Speaking over each other. As if you weren’t there. As though you were invisible to their eyes as none dared to look your way.

Trying to stand up, you are bruised and dirtied. There is evidence of moisture in your skin, hair, and even in the remaining teeth. Clearly in danger of collapsing. Having to be held through the entire ride to king’s landing, but you hoped his grip would loosen. Let you fall and not face the fucked up reality you’re in.

No longer were there any tears. Letting them fall as he pushed you into the muddy ground with the corpse of Dame not far away. Let each one drop during your ride to the place you’re meant to call home. You are now left feeling the burning of your cheek and much thirst in your throat.

“Rhaenyra was finally considering peace!” Alicent’s voice towering over the council. Most enraged you have ever seen. Trembling hands and uneasy breathing. You only ever witnessed this state once-on that dreadful day.

That meant war. If Aegon's ascension to the throne wasn't the start of it, then taking her child hostage all while killing her dragon will be the one to do it. But there was still hope, Tyland insisted. They could just return you. The dragon’s death is a tragedy, but you can claim another and with your wounds, they’ll heal in no time.

The way Aemond's body tensed at his words can be felt. The dead dragon was not the cause for concern, nor were the wounds. But something far worse. Your maidenhood. All that was forcibly taken away. An act if it ever reached your mother’s ears. What she would do will only be known to the gods.

But they don’t know. Not Alicent, not Otto, not Tyland. No one. Only you and the one-eyed prince.

It took them this long, but they finally sent you away to get cleaned and tended to. In spite of your disdain, you are to go to the halls with none other than Ser Criston Cole. You move forward, wanting to retain some part of your pride, only to fall into the knight's chest.

And against your will, you’re forced to swallow that one last piece of pride; leaning on him for support as he guides you to your supposed chambers. Despite their eyes being on you, you refused to look back at the council.

As you come face to face with the maester. You catch the look in his eye and the hesitation in his steps. The handmaidens also exchange looks with one another. At the sight of you, none of them dared to utter a word.

The second your trousers were pulled down against your will. Using all your remaining strength, you fought, even managing to bite the maester's hand and dig your nails into one of the handmaidens.They winced, but didn’t falter much in their movements. Were you this weakened.

In such a ruined state that you could do nothing but lie there as their eyes swept over you. Right in front of their very eyes remains the evidence. On your inner thighs, the dried white substance. And layers of marks, but what most caught the eye was the darkening bruise on your hips.

They all knew. And they all knew who had done it. Who else would it be. Their stares made you want to sink deeper into the sheets. To smother your face in anything you could hide into. But there’s no haven from their judging gazes. The weight of shame is in the pit of your stomach, holding you down with all of its might.

So it was no surprise to hear the argument on the other side of the door.

You have now become a hostage. A piece of some bargaining. Your mother must have received the letter a while ago. You hoped that the letter informing her of your presence in King's Landing reached her before the news of Dame's death. You didn’t want to imagine her panic and grief as her thoughts wandered to the worst with the discovery of your dragon’s corpse.

Every step you made was watched. Whether it was by the guards, they had constantly surrounding you, the ladies and lords who made way for you like you were some sort of plague or the servants you could hear whispering behind your back.

At least they dressed you with some decency. Upon seeing the dress was emerald green, a strong urge to throw it into the fireplace arose. You thought it was Aemond’s idea, adding to the humiliation he had already inflicted upon you. But by Aegon’s amused expression, you become well aware that it was his. Still, you maintain your composure, displaying no discomfort as you held your head high.

The only thing that gave you some ease, a glimmer of hope was the wrath your mother will display. She’ll hesitate with you under their grasp, but once you’re back in her arms. In her arms. Your lips quiver at the thought.

You want your mother. Never did you think you’d yearn for her so much. The last time you did was during one of your nightmares. Coming to her; shaking and in tears, and as soon as you were in her embrace, you felt protected. Safe.

You miss her. You miss Daemon. You miss Jace and Luke. You miss Rhaena. You miss little Aegon and Viserys. And the thought of never having to see them again makes your heart ache as if it's being stabbed every time. You already lost Dame. Whom you miss the most.

When you passed another group of lords and ladies, you saw how they got closer to one another, the way they exchanged their whispers. And to calm some of your fury. You imagined Daemon standing over them. Imagined Jace telling them off. Imagined Luke and Rhaena's glares.

And a smile spreads across your face as you envision your mother setting this whole place down with flames. And when you imagine Dame burning Aemond, then tearing him to pieces, and swallowing him whole, your teeth start to show.

But your fantasy is put to rest as soon as you pass the queen's chamber and catch the sound of a familiar voice. After taking a look around the hallways. You then advance, placing your ear to the door.

You raise your brows when you hear the husky timbre of a certain voice. “You told me to never forget what they’ve done to me,” that voice belonged to none other than Aemond, “To never forget what she has done to me.” At the mention of the ‘she’, you were certain it was you. Or your mother.

“But to take revenge on her in such a manner!” And then you heard the desperate voice of Alicent, one that sounded in pain with sorrow lacing it. “To defile her,” she spoke, voice lower than before. Silence filled the room.

Then the words, barely audible above a whisper, broke the stillness. "You understand what this now means?" Before the words could sink in. You are startled when you sense a presence looming over you. It was Cole. "Come princess," he said disdainfully, and in no room to argue, you follow.

When he leads you into your 'chambers', you smile at him. Expressing your gratitude, you shut the door, leaving Cole standing outside bewildered. You truly do have to thank Criston. Sitting on the bed as you take something out of your sleeve. A blade.

Pretending to trip over the stairs, and when he went to help you up, your hand strayed. Though those thanks were to be given to Daemon. You had no intention of ever using that trick he taught you, but here you were.

You didn’t know how long you held the blade, clutching it so fervently to your chest as if it were a stuffed bear to keep you company at night. The door to your chambers opened, and you quickly slid it into your sleeve before wincing as you felt a small amount of blood seep into your skin.

Fear consumed every inch of your body as soon as you saw who it was. Feeling your heart beat so violently against your chest, on the verge of erupting from the ribs, keeping it at bay. You kept your feet pressed firmly to the ground. Perhaps to put an end to its shakiness or to run at the first chance. Or Possibly both.

You tried to remain stern. Yet with your panicked eyes, raised brow, and quivering lips. It gave it all away. His mouth opens to speak, but not a word is said.

Then you saw the narrowing of his eye. As you follow his gaze, you notice your sleeve is stained with blood. And you try to stay put when he advances towards you. In a sudden move, your body is steered toward him, grabbed by the arm. Your hands on his chest, pressing your palms against him, pushing as hard as you can.

You gasp when the arm that was held is clenched tightly. “The green suits you,” he finally speaks. It being his first words. And you can't resist the urge to punch him in the face right there and then. Even when you feel his breath on your skin and his nose lightly touching yours.

You move your head away, only to whimper when his other hand grasps the back of your neck. Forcing you to remain put. And you feel his lip just barely brush your ear's outer shell as he asks, "Did you think I wouldn't notice what is exposed on your sleeve?" Your body trembles as if you were under a harsh, freezing rain.

His fingers press into the sleeve where the blade's outline is. You didn't know why you did it. Perhaps it was the desperation. Perhaps it is the lingering anger. Perhaps it was just plain stupidity. But your feet collided with his knee. He backed away, his grip slipping.

The small blade taken out of the sleeve was thrust at him. While he was taken off guard. In a blink of an eye, his hand moved. Retaining the wrist that held the blade. It was only a few inches from his throat. With just one push. Just one. The tip would pierce the skin.

Truly, you had no plan on what to do next. Hurting him was your only hope. To get rid of him. Outside the hallways was Criston. You would be caught and put to death. But you’ve long since come to terms that you won’t live to see another day. At least you will leave the world having done something.

But your strength has proven to be feeble against his. His grip was firm while yours trembled.

The blade backed away from his throat. But it's not you. It's the hand placed over yours. Your eyes widen when he doesn't put his hand down, pressing it against yours instead. More so when the blade is moving to your side. And before you realize it, it’s just centimeters away from your face.

You try to remove your hand away, but his grip prevents it. You didn't look away from him when the tip of the blade touched your cheek. Even when you felt it firmly graze the skin, but not deep enough to cut it.

Then the blade is taken. Thrown to the side. Your eyes follow it.

Only to shriek when he grasps your hair and pulls you roughly to his side. Then, with a yank of your hair, you were forced to follow him where his hand went. Your hand frantically reaches for his, sinking your nails deep into his skin. A hiss is heard, but all it does is make him pull your hair up, throwing your head back.

With one last tug, you found yourself colliding with something hard. Tears began to form in your eyes as your nose bumped into the wall. Before you even have a chance to push yourself off, your face is shoved to the wall once more. On the back of your head was his hand.

Your legs are exposed to the warm air. And you realize it’s Aemond tugging at your gown. Your hand reaches back, hitting, scratching. Doing whatever it takes to stop him. Gasping when hearing the fabric being torn.

He then presses his body against yours, caging you to the wall. By now, the gown is tugged far above your waist, exposing your lower region to the prince.

Briefly coming face-to-face with him. You spat in his face. It wasn't about stopping him at this point. There was no way of doing so. No amount of kicks or slaps will dissuade him. This was just for the sake of humiliation. To degrade him in any way. And it worked-jaw tightened and eye blinking a few times at your doing.

Your victory was however short-lived. You are grabbed yet again. Your stomach landing on something soft. The bed. You looked back, thinking he’ll turn you over. Feel his fingers tracing your thigh. Rather, you witness him take his pants' belt off. Your stomach drops. He is going to take you in this position.

You move to lift your body only to be immediately pushed back down. Kicking your legs as he pushes the gown up once more. He merely holds them. Your behind exposed to the air in the room. You sense him coming up the bed. Spreading your legs as his knees are in the space between.

He lies on top of you, chest pressed against your back. Your heart beat was felt in your throat, thumping loudly. But you told yourself not to plead, not to beg for mercy. It’ll only arouse him. He drank on your suffering and you weren’t willing to give him anything to satisfy on.

His hand reaches down to rub his cockhead around your hole, chucking at the sounds of your whimpers. Your fingers gripped the sheets, a fear of what he’ll do burning within you. A hand comes to your throat. And then the head of his cock pushed into your hole. And you found yourself almost on the verge of screaming at the sensation.

It’s all too painful. His cock stretches you wide, making you feel every inch of him. Unconscious tears slip down your cheeks as you’re forced to adjust to his size. You tried to ease into the sensation, but this is unlike anything before.

All kinds of noises were coming out of you. Every vein and ridge against your sensitive walls can be felt. Igniting a fire down to your core. Aemond lets out a throaty groan. You detest how the heat spreads to your skin when hearing it.

“Didn’t think you’d get any tighter,” he muses before ramming his cock into your hole. You’re embarrassed at the loud moan that escaped your lips. He pushed back and forward with short, shallow thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin intensifies with each passing second.

With each stroke, you feel him move deeper. Feel the way you clench so tightly around his cock. Feel his hands moving from underneath you from your stomach to your chest. Another moan escapes you when his hand squeezes your fabric-covered breasts. His thrusts have gotten faster, and you find yourself unable to keep up with his pace.

Without even realizing, you inch forwards; the feeling is overwhelming and disorienting. Your face is wet with tears, but they are no longer from the pain. Everything is coated in pleasure. Filled to the brim with each snap of his hips against your ass.

His thrusts have started to get sloppy and frantic. Angling his hips to hit your sweet spot with relative ease. And then it happened. He reaches his high, spurting thick ropes of cum over your velvet walls as his cock twitches inside of you.

You’re taken back when he goes back to rolling hips again. And it was only after experiencing the ecstasy of an orgasm that you understood why he had done it. Your face feels warm as you lay there with him on top of you, your juice trickling down your thigh. You're certain that Criston heard your cries when your orgasm hit.

Then he pulls away. Adjusting himself and then heading to leave. Briefly, he pauses. Maybe you were thinking too much of it, but you were sure he had something to say. Before the whole incident with the blade. In relation to the blade, you find out the prince didn't bring it with him.

You remain in bed the same way the prince left you—you don't know how long. You aren't compelled to leave until Ser Criston enters after knocking on your door. Being made to put on a new gown and get your sleeve bandaged.

If Criston did indeed hear the noises that came earlier that day, he didn’t show it. If he had noticed the change in the wardrobe and the trembling in every step due to your sore legs, he said nothing.

Soon you are sat with a table in front of you, an empty sheet of paper, and some ink on the side. The chair in front of you is occupied by the queen regent, who is surrounded by other members of the council. An awkward silence fills the chambers. However, when Otto spoke, it cut through the tension in the room like a knife through butter.

He claims that a rumor made its way throughout the castle. “A vile rumor,” Alicent made sure to add. You merely exchange confused looks with them. Every day, whispers are heard. Every day, tens of thousands of rumors are spread. Your eyes flit over to Criston, who is standing to the side; even his face suggests that he might have heard it.

Tyland starts to speak, but he seems to be struggling to find the right words, or rather the appropriate words to use. “That our prince Aemond Targaryen has taken your maidenhood," Lord Wydle interrupts, pausing for a moment before adding, "with force". Tyland goes to speak again, "But we know that's not possibly true-" "Of course it's not," Otto chimes in, cutting Tyland off.

So that’s what it is. And the incident from today comes to mind. Is that what he came to discuss with you. Only for him to force himself on you again. The others stared at you bewildered, as you couldn't help but laugh at the slight irony. The look of almost guilt on Ser Criston's face now makes the most sense.

Your name was called before Criston could look you in the eye. Turning to look at the disgruntled council. They all seem incredibly eager to leave and be done with this whole thing. You won't lie by admitting that it fills you with some amusement. Your gaze catches Alicent's, who has her eyes averted from you.

Your eyes hardly leave her, as Otto demands what you must do. If they are to have spies, these false rumors, as Otto claims they are, will likely reach your mother and Daemon. That you will write a letter to your mother claiming this is all untrue and that your maidenhood remains intact. That you are safe, well, and even happy.

You wanted to laugh once more. Did he think this would fool your mother? To fool Daemon out of all people. Nevertheless, you did as you were told. writing down all of the spoken words. You knew it didn't matter, but you weren't aware that the particular white worm or the handmaiden you dug your nails into was to blame.

Late at night, you didn’t spend as much time in your chambers before a bunch of servants barged into your chambers. They all hurried you into the bathtub, scrubbing and scenting every inch of your body.

You stare in awe at the stunning white dress they are getting you dressed in. It wasn't like the ones you get. The dress's skirts are twice as wide, and the interior linings appear to be made of gold. Your curves are prominently displayed as it tightly envelops your body. And that's not even mentioning all the jewelry they've adorned you with; crafted from jade.

You asked the servants what the occasion was. It was a feast, they told you. A feast? You would be surprised to find quite the crowd at that hour of the night. Still, what feast demands that one dress in such opulence.

The servants scramble to leave the room when the door opens. Criston's presence does not surprise you. He leads you down the wide hallways. Given how heavy the dress is, it was difficult to descend the stairs.

As you continue to walk, you realize how quiet the area is—far too quiet. A feast was intended. Where is the music, the laughter, the chatter. You now are faced with a closed door. “They’re waiting for you,” he says. And the realization dawns on you.

What sort of feast would wait for you. Why would they wait for you. You were the daughter of their sworn enemy. A traitor in their eyes. You're a hostage, for goodness' sake. Hostage, hostage, hostage—that phrase kept repeating in your head.

This was a wedding. They were waiting for you. The bride.

The words Alicent said played in the back of your head: "You know what this means." When Aemond entered your chambers, that is what he wanted to tell you. But was rather distracted by something else, and even if he weren't, he wouldn't have told you. Most likely, everyone on the Council was involved. And as you turned to face Criston, you, at last, understood the guilt on his features.

He gives you a pleading look, as if not to fight this. To just accept it. But you shook your head as you took a few steps back. Feeling as though the place is begging to spin, and having such a tightness in your throat, making it all the harder to breathe. Criston calls for you as you move away, but it all seems like a haze to you.

The sinking feeling in your stomach makes you bend, a need to vomit, but nothing comes out. You place your hands on your chest as it moves up and down rapidly, trying to calm it down. Following you, the knight is at a loss for what to do as

You jump and move to push the hand that touches you. Surprised to see it’s Alicent. More so when she grabs you in her arms. Your body tensed under her touch. But it’s been so long since anyone showed you an ounce of kindness that oddly enough, you welcomed it.

To her shoulder, you sobbed, drenching the cloth. It doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. Her hand moves to your back, rubbing up and down as she soothes your cries. You tried to imagine this was the arms of your mother. That it was her comforting you, reassuring you.

Your blood turns cold and your fantasy is crushed when you hear Alicent's words "Make him happy". And you drew yourself away from her. Looking down at her, your eyes were filled with disdain. When she goes to offer you a small cloth, you use the sleeves instead to dab your tears and snot.

With your eyes puffy and red, you move to stand in front of the door. With a nod to Criston, you signal the doors to open. It's not like you had a choice in the matter. All heads turn to the sound.

Only a few people were present. The family, as well as the green council, were present. They were all clearing a path for you to walk to the altar. So you were right. They were all in this together.

A three-step staircase was in front of you. From behind you, Alicent descends the stairs and rushes to the side of her family where Otto and Helaena are. Aegon is also standing there, and when you see him leave his family's side and come toward you, you try to convey your confusion.

Coming up the stairs, he moves to your side. “What’re you doing” you whisper low enough so the others wouldn’t hear. He offers you his arm, "Your father is dead isn't he?". Daemon should be the one to walk you. But he’s not here is he. With a sigh, you take his arm and link it with yours as you step down the stairs.

While you do so, you can feel everyone watching your every step. But your gaze is fixed on the altar, not on any of them. Aemond is waiting for you. You think your mind is playing tricks on you, seeing his eye on yours getting darker and darker with each step. Filled with madness only a Targaryen would possess.

It's unusual to not see him dressed in black; instead, he adorns the color white, bright gold-lined clothing that looks similar to yours. There were red accents and some black patterns. He has styled his long, silvery hair as usual, but a braid is added resting on his shoulder. It pains you to admit it, but there was a moment when he was illuminated by a new light, allowing you to appreciate his beauty like never before.

Your attention shifted to the crowd before you could approach him. Each with a different expression. Otto has a stern expression on his face, Helaena is staring at you blankly, and Alicent is the only one who smiles at you through her eyes conveying a different story.

When you finally get to the one-eyed prince, you almost gasp at how quickly he takes hold of your hand and frees you from his brother's grip before Aegon could hand you over to him.

The moment your feet are on the altar with the septon looking over you both. The panic that strikes again is unavoidable. You make eye contact with a few people in the crowd as you turn your head to face them; they are able to see the horror in your eyes. The desperation you feel as you silently beg for someone to say something, to speak up about this injustice. The room, however, is still utterly silent.

Fingers gripping your jaw, face turned back to the man in front of you. Surprisingly, it was a gentle touch. The violet eye catches your tear-filled ones. It tells you that you’re alone. That nothing can or will change this. That this is your fate.

In response, you swallow and nod your head. Accepting the hand that reaches to you, facing the Septon. As the septon speaks, you allow a tear to slip down your cheek. Accepting your demise, at last. When you turn your head to look at Aemond, you realize his eye never left yours.

In the sight of gods and men, the two of you exchange vows. Cloaked and brought under his protection. Instead of the traditional red three-headed dragon sigil embroidered in the cloak, it’s gold.

Only Aemond and the Septon can hear your trembling voice. Once the vows have been said. You know this was it. Whatever miracle you hoped for is gone. Shattered to pieces. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.

Standing there, you know what is about to happen. You move in closer to Aemond with the intention of kissing his cheek. Only to be caught off guard at the feeling of his mouth against yours. One hand is on the back of your neck, the other on your waist.

Low murmurs are coming from the sparse crowd. This was far from appropriate. Your hand rests on his shoulder, pressing your palm to the cloth, trying to push him away. Eventually, he does pull away, but not before you felt his tongue slither into your mouth.

The kiss made you feel as if the world was a blur. Your knees weaken and Aemond has you lean on him. You meekly whisper 'to the table', and he complies. Sitting there, you seem to be in a daze. Aegon can be heard raising his wine in a toast, something along the 'Welcoming you into their side.'

Noises soon surround you from all sides. There is music playing, laughter, and conversations happening. But due to the rush of blood to your ears, you can hardly hear anything. Your newlywed husband is seated next to you. The food on your plates hardly touched. Even your wine cups.

You can see the odd looks others gave you. Not a single laugh or word between you and Aemond. He hasn’t even asked you for a dance. It was Aegon who did, coming to his brother’s side. He seemed drunk in such a short time, or maybe he already was but you perhaps didn't notice.

Aegon takes the cup of his brother's wine, taking a sip from it as he extends his hand. Hesitantly, you agree, taking his hand. Aemond’s annoyed look is clearly seen in not only having his cup stolen, but his bride.

What is for you to do. You can't deny a king's request, and even if you do, you're not sure Aemond will come to your defense.

As you dance with Aegon, you once again feel the strange looks of others. The bride is dancing with a man other than her husband. It’s an unusual sight. They keep it to themselves though as this time it’s not the prince they will speak of, but rather the king.

“I must say I didn’t expect this from my brother,” you simply nod along, until his words finally register in your head. At first, you thought he was referring to the wedding, but as soon as you saw that sneering expression on his face, you understood. The rumors. How is it that he made you regret your course of actions in a span of seconds.

“But it was always meant to happen one day,” he mutters. Nervously swallowing at what he meant. Aegon brings you closer to him, “Your mother wanted to wed you to me, you know?” You nod. This came as no shock. Before she moved to Dragonstone, your mother had intended to wed your brother Jace to Helaena and you to Aegon. A resolution to the conflict between two families.

You've always believed Helaena deserved someone as kind and understanding as your brother. But in the process, it meant marrying someone as lustful and arrogant as Aegon. Though those unions were prevented by Alicent as she wed Aegon to Helaena. But on the other hand, you are married to his brother, your fate sealed.

“But did you know you were meant to wed Aemond” now that was what shocked you. You glared reluctantly at him. How is this your first time knowing this. Your mother would’ve surely told you or anyone else in the matter. Though he appears to be in a drunken haze, you wanted to believe he was lying but what motive would he have for doing so.

“Father insisted on it after you took my brother’s eye,” your lips press in a tight line at the mention. “Mother was against it of course, and so was yours, In fact, it was her who ended the proposal,” his grip on your waist tightened as you feel his breath on your face.

You felt trapped under his arms and gaze. But for a time, you choose not to fight him. Your curiosity getting the best of you as you continue to hear him speak. “She said she’ll marry you off to Jace when the two of you come of age, so imagine our surprise dear niece when we come to find he’s to wed Baela instead”.

It’s the reason why you felt his eye on you the entire petition. You thought it was to intimidate you. Maybe it was, but it became more than one reason. He harbored a much deeper grudge against your brother than you believed it to be.

Your mother enters your thoughts. You didn’t understand why she’d lie, never did she mention a possibility of you and Jace ever being wed. Did she somehow fear Alicent. After all, you had taken out her son's eye.

Did she fear Aemond? He was a young boy for the time being, but he’ll soon become a man and grow to resent you. If that is what she believed, no one could blame her for it. In the end, he did hurt you. In all ways possible.

“It’s such a shame that my brother gets to have such a beautiful bride,” your thoughts are abruptly stopped as he says this with his calloused fingers playing with your necklace. A glint in his violet gaze makes you uneasy. You have seen it in lords with intentions beyond courting.

“If you shall ever feel unsatisfied with my brother,” his chest brushes to yours and you move to step back in response. Only to squirm when he tugs harshly at the necklace holding you in place, “you know where to find me,” he finishes, mouth curving upwards. And when his pink lips touch the shell of your ear, his next words send a chill down your spine, “After all, it doesn’t matter which one of us puts a baby in you.”

Putting your hand on his chest to shove him away. And finally, he complies. His hand goes to grab your arm, bringing you over to your table, where you see Aemond. “Come everyone, let’s prepare for the bedding ceremony!”

Everyone can see the king is beyond drunk, eyes barely open, and face red. “There’ll be no bedding ceremony,” Aemond simply responds and for the first time, you feel somewhat grateful at his involvement.

Aegon then reaches to grip his head, muttering under his breath on how it hurts. Ser Criston is signaled and he and another guard drag Aegon out of the place. He’s so intoxicated to the point that he can no longer stand. You don’t miss the way everyone looks at him with exasperation. So this is the king of the seven kingdoms, you bitterly thought.

You’re jolted by Aemond’s touch. “Come, my wife, we must rest,” he says, gesturing for you to follow him and you do so without another word. There was no ‘rest’ with Aemond, or should you call your husband now.

As the second you were in his chambers, it ended with you bare on his bed and him on top of you. The wedding dress of yours torn and thrown somewhere on the ground. The first time was excoriating. The second time was painful. The third time was bearable.

Aemond had left long after, to his own chambers no doubt. Once the doors were closed. Your body writhes in sobs. There is no end to the tears falling. Is this meant to be your life, weeping every day like a widow in mourning. But you’re not mourning a dead husband. You mourn for your life. How it came to be. The tragedies that followed. And will continue to follow.

At night, you are awakened by someone. It was far too early for it to be the morning. You find yourself in complete darkness when you first open your eyes, save for a candle that is close to you. If not for the hand covering your mouth, you would have almost shrieked when you saw a face. The figure wore a cloak. Which they took off to reveal a man. Young for his age.

You remember the compromising position you’re in, grabbing the sheets to hold them to your bare chest. The man looks away awkwardly as he explains who he was and who sent him. His name was Pete. And when the mention of Daemon is made, you sit up right away, almost forgetting to hold the sheets. He then throws you a cloak, facing you with his back.

You quickly put on your clothes and wore the said cloak. Pete opens the door and gestures for you to follow. You hesitantly do so. When you glance out of the corner of your eye, there was nobody watching the hallways. Then you see it. A fire spreading at a far distance. His work, no doubt.

What about Aemond. You asked as the two of you sneak through the halls. “He’ll be dealt with.” Dealt with, hearing this made you almost stop at your tracks. “We had a servant put something in his wine, knock him out for good. The men will have their fun with him.”

Wine? No, he couldn’t possibly mean the one in the wedding. You haven’t seen Aemond take not one sip from it, or maybe he did. It wasn’t as if you were paying attention. But it made sense now. The way Aegon made a fool of himself. You didn't share your discovery with Pete, remaining silent throughout the whole way.

As if sensing your weariness, he turns with a smile, “Don’t worry princess, we’ll give you your justice from that one-eyed scum and that little brat of theirs.” You assume the ‘little brat’ was Aegon. Was it possible? Is Daemon this willing to murder both the king and prince in one night. Chaos has already begun due to war, but this will further exacerbate it.

You don't remember how many stairs you descended until the two of you are moving through a tunnel. The tunnel leads to the chilly wind outside, huddling under your cloak for warmth. In front of you, is the open water. And the boat. Pete kneels down, reaching for the rope that ties the boat to the shore.

Suddenly you scream, but by the time Pete gets to his feet to react, a sword slashes him across the chest. Towering over him is Aemond.

He faces you, a bloodied sword in his hand. As if hunting for its prey, eyes unhinged and crazed. Hair loose and disheveled. A number of cuts were visible on his chest and shoulders. Nose bloodied and a small cut on his lip.

A groan comes out of Pete. And you’re terrified at the realization that he’s still alive. You try to rush over to him, letting out a cry, but it’s too late as Aemond thrusts the sword into his neck. The blood splatters, and even drops, can be seen on his face.

Your hand is placed over your mouth as he draws the sword out, feeling the urge to throw up at the sight. Aemond then raises his sword and points it in your direction. The tip nearly presses against the cloak, and you struggle to keep your chest from fluttering up and down.

“Do you recognize this sword” he asks, quite so casually as if one small step forward wouldn't be enough to pierce your skin. You shake your head. “Look at it,” the fear rendered you unresponsive, and you had to be told a second time. You at last looked.

It looks like every other sword. You recall him using it against Criston during his practice. The familiarity only becomes apparent when your eyes focus on a small detail. A shape that appeared to be missing almost carved out, was seen in the rain guard. Your gasp told him it finally came to you.

“What irony would it be” Aemond’s voice fills the tunnel, “If I killed you with the sword you had given me?” Your stomach clenches when the sword is inches away from your gut. “Or better yet, if I strangle you with my own hands?”

He doesn't give you a chance to speak as the sword falls to the ground and both hands wrap around your throat. “When my foolish brother sobers up, he’d want you dead,” the hand tightens its grip and your head is starting to spin as you gasp for air.

“For what they did to Jaehaerys. A child for a child” cold eye staring at your wide ones. Jaehaerys? Daemon sent a kill for Jaehaerys? No, it had to be a mistake. Your mother would have never allowed that. He was only six, an innocent boy who had done nothing wrong. This was far too cruel even for Daemon.

“This wasn’t all they had done dear wife,” the word ‘wife’ was uttered with malice. Your nails clawed at his hands, but it was all in vain. “I woke up to two men trying to cut off my manhood, a revenge for the princess they said.”

You feel your life is slipping away. Gods, was he going to kill you. Was this how you’ll die. In some dark tunnel on the other side of King’s landing. “But I wonder how your dear step-father of yours will react when he knows how much you’ll miss it if it did,” he spat out. Using all your strength, you try to pry his hands away. Between the struggle, your eyes caught sight of the sword lying a foot away from Pete's body.

A sudden realization dawned on you.

He kept the swords all those years. He trained with it, fought with it. And when he lost his eye, he took the sapphire that you had given him and placed it in its stead.

You were right to fear Aemond in that he’d hurt you. Ruin you. But not in that he’ll kill you. Cause he could have at any moment. He should have left you on that island, but he didn’t. He didn’t put up any struggle when you were wed. He wanted you to wed him. He hated you. There was no doubt, but there was something else, another feeling involved beyond it.

With small ragged gasps, you were able to utter a few words. “Do it,” you say in a raspy voice. “Do it,” you say this time a little louder only to feel his palm press harder. Your lungs start to aches, eyes bulging, and the edge of your vision turning dark. This may be it, your end.

And then his grip loosens. Letting you go.

Your body collapsed to the ground, catching your breath all while coughing. The cold air fills your lungs as you lie on the harsh ground.

His confused look was apparent when you let out a choked laugh. He loved you. The fucker loved you. Loved you in the most fucked up way possible. And it’s killing him, tearing him apart, yet he’s blind do it.

The boat is still on the water, swaying side to side, but there is no way you can escape to it. With your face pressed to the ground, you accepted the reality of the situation. You were trapped. Caged. A hostage.

It’s his fault. All his fault. But you knew once you return to the castle, they will all blame you for the death of the young prince. Point you to the crime. After all, it was done in your name. You may find yourself strangled in sleep, pushed from a window, or poisoned. From someone who assumes this is justice for the prince Jaehaerys.

You needed Aemond. You needed him on your side. If you ever hope to see your mother again, your family again. He was the key.

So when you were lifted by your hair, forced to stand by the prince, he’s surprised by your lips crashing into his. You feel him melting into your touch before he forcibly pulls you away. Lips as blooded as his. As he tilts his head, he yanks your hair, throwing your head back.

He knows what you’re doing, yet he still tugs your head forward for your lips to meet once more. “My place is on your side,” you whisper to his lips. He scoffs under his breath. Liar. That’s what his eye tells you.

Taking a deep breath, you take the courage to do what you must do. Your knee was raised. And his body tenses at what to expect, a kick perhaps. Only to hiss when feeling your knee brush against his lower region. His hand goes to rest on it as if signaling you to stop. But as you fix your gaze on him, you again brush your knees against something firm. The act causes him to groan between his teeth.

You didn’t fight when sensing his hands’ inch under your cloak and your dress. You didn’t fight when he laid you on the rough ground, mounting on top of you. This time, you stared at him, mouth open and brows furrowed. This time it was you who removed his patch. It caused him to hesitate, almost halting his movements, but then he had gone back to moving his hips again, albeit faster than before.

Something damp was felt by your fingers on the ground. Pete's blood. It leaked from his body. You didn't react to it, digging the same bloodied fingers into the prince's shoulder as he sinks rougher inside you.

You were playing a game, and he knew it. The question was how long he was willing to play along.

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