#spirits will collide is so good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tetzoro · 1 year ago

Text

DEVILISH DESSERT — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. astarion !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : your cramps have hit you especially hard this month and astarion has an idea that could be mutually beneficial

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, period sex, oral (f!receiving), mentions of blood, unprotected sex but astarion pulls out, multiple orgasms, blood sucking, praise, pet names (darling, my sweet, pet), — WC : 2.2k

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

“believe me, pet, it would be a win-win.” astarion drawls, his hands following the flow of his speech. “you lay down and let me take care of you while i get my fill.”

the thought had crossed your mind before —fleetingly. the last time he fed from your neck the idea planted itself in your mind in a haze joined by many other ones, swirling together as your body tried to make sense of what was happening.

“but,” the argument you were about to make dies in your throat. but, what? astarion was asking you to let him indulge, a chance to satiate his hunger while also pleasuring his lover. his eyes plead with yours, giving away how eager he really is. “sure, why not.”

“that’s the spirit.” he claps his hands together before reaching out for your hand. “i promise i’ll take good care of you, my little treat.”

“what did i say about using that nickname?” you mumble as he takes your hand, quickly bringing it up against his lips for a quick peck, hiding the small smirk that was blossoming.

flashes of the last time he called you that floods your mind – the way it slipped off the tip of his tongue and lured you to his bed. the first night you let him feed off of your neck, taking the blood he needed while his cock was buried in your heat.

“what’s that? can’t hear you darling.” he teases, knowing exactly what was running through your mind right now. he finishes guiding you to his tent and he closes the curtain. “no matter, it’s just you and me now.”

suddenly, you feel a bit nervous under his stare. the reality of your moment coming into the forefront of your brain. you knew he has an affinity for blood, but what if it tasted bad — what if you tasted bad?

his lithe fingers gently cradle your face, adoration soaking his features. his dark red eyes trail all over your features, taking in every little piece of your face.

“gods, you’re beautiful.” he breathes out, slowly leaning in to kiss you. you meet him halfway, lips colliding against one another as his hand starts to trail down the curve of your waist. he pulls apart for a second, placing a quick peck before he speaks again. “i can’t wait to taste you, i know you’ll be as sweet as always.”

his words pour over you as warm reassurance, your body melting against him as he kisses you again. the small flame that had formed before was quickly simmering into a wildfire, lying just beneath the surface and ready to consume both of you in a spark of passion.

but for now, he takes his time with you. his lips trail down your neck, fangs barred as they lightly drag along your jugular. you hold back a gulp, ashamed at how much it makes you yearn for him even more.

he doesn’t bite, not when he’s so eager for what lies below. you lay all the way down the bedroll as he makes his descent, murmurs of praise slipping off his tongue and onto your skin.

he makes quick work of the pants you had on, tearing them down your thighs as his bloodlust starts to kick in. in seconds, his head is buried in between your thighs, nose pressed against your clit as he deeply inhales.

“darling-“ he breathes out, absolutely in awe of how delicious you’re going to taste. “this is…” he trails off, unsure if words could describe how much this means to him.

“never seen you so speechless before.” you tease, trying not to squirm under his gaze, his eyes locked onto the blood woven slick pooling at your entrance.

“what can i say?” he presses a kiss just above your clit, eyes darting up to yours. “this is a gift, and i plan on showing you just how appreciative i am for it. for you.”

you open your mouth to retort but his tongue catches your throbbing nub first, sending a jolt throughout your body. after that first taste, he’s gone. completely lost in you and the frenzy begins.

he tosses your leg over his shoulder, angling himself to get deeper. his tongue delves back into you and you feel him everywhere. it’s enough to arch your back, your fingers clawing in his hair. he grunts approvingly into your messy cunt, licking up every little speck of blood he can get his mouth on.

each precise stroke of his tongue has you unraveling in his hold, undoubtedly gushing more of your bloody essence on his eagerly awaiting mouth. he was practically moaning now, the vibrations shooting throughout your body. he breaks for air for a moment, licking his lips and looking up to you.

“no one could ever taste as sweet as you, darling.” a soft nibble to your inner thigh, his darkened, blown out eyes still locked onto you.

he goes back down on you, slowly pushing in his fingers to draw more out of you, wanting you to flood his vision with the small slice of heaven you’re granting him right now.

it’s all too much and you’d be lying if you said his enthusiasm wasn’t the driving force towards your release. you’d never been with a man so desperate for your taste, especially when you were in this state.

your back starts to arch off the bedroll, reeling in the pleasure that’s about to snap. the coil shatters into a thousand pieces as you dig your fingers into his curls once again. you don’t know if you were loud or not, you don’t know anything as a white veil had taken up your vision, pleasure coursing through your veins as your blood pounds within your ears.

the tent is silent, save for both of your heavy breathing. through half lidded eyes, you see him greedily lick around his lips, ensuring he didn’t waste a drop of the gift you’ve given him.

it takes a few moments for you to come back down to reality, your head swimming in the pleasure astarion hurtled you in. you watch as he places one last kiss against your cunt, slowly backing up on his haunches.

without breaking eye contact, he slips his still coated fingers in his mouth, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head as he savors the taste of you. a beat goes by and you think it’s over and time to head back to your own tent.

but he’s always been a selfish man.

“you know, i don’t think i’ve quite gotten my fill of you yet.” his voice sings in your ear. “i think i want a little more.”

“you might have to wait a bit.” the words flow out of you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at him. his eyes were still blown out — crazed. whenever he has that frenzied look in his eyes, his hunger is still strong and his sights are set on you.

“or, maybe not.” he tilts his head to the side. “let’s have sex so i can make a proper mess of you.”

“what? i-i’m not sure.” you frown slightly. the cramps had subsided, sure. but who’s to say that wouldn’t bring them back?

“think about it.” he drawls, taking off his shirt, showcasing his body. “coming a few times will be very beneficial. it’ll clear everything right out.”

“well.” you pause. realistically, there could be a truth in that. but who knew if your body would listen to logic anyway. and yet, “well i suppose it couldn’t hurt to try.”

“exactly, darling.” he smiles before a softer look falls onto you. “but if it does, you’ll let me know.”

it wasn’t a question. the underlying care he held for you was slipping through the cracks of the tantalizing facade he loved to put up. you nod your head in confirmation. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to test this theory out, especially watching him slowly untie his breeches. lithe fingers that were just inside of you untwisting the knots woven in the string.

his cock springs out from being stuffed away, begging for some sort of relief judging by the amount of precum that was pooling on its head.

he hastily lines himself up to your slick entrance, rubbing his tip around it before it kisses your swollen clit. you gasp out as your body tingles with electricity. after a baited breath, he starts to slide in agonizingly slow, carefully watching your face as he does so.

but you look away, the eye contact feeling a bit much — even after everything. he was just too pretty, his expressions too raw. every moment you held his gaze, the fire inside of you threatens to take over.

“you need to look at me, my sweet.” his cold fingers grasp your chin lightly, tilting your head so you had no choice but to look at him.

before, when you had first slept with astarion, things hadn’t been so intimate. of course, it was all very rushed. it was the end of a gruesome battle and tensions were high, not to mention alcohol was swirling around in both of your systems.

but this was different. so much time had passed since then — or at least, that’s what it felt like. it’s all been so intense since you first met the pale elf that you hardly believe it’s only been less than a few months.

and in that time, you two had gotten so close, really close. slowly prying each other's heart open with gentle, reassuring hands. something that had forged itself out of forced trust, blooming into a beautiful and vulnerable partnership.

“i’m here.” you whisper, finally looking at him. his eyes soften and you realize at some point you started to caress his cheek. your finger smooths over his soft, smooth skin before his lips meet the palm of your hand, pressing a kiss onto it.

“and thank the gods for that.” he whispers back with a pleased look. his hips were flush with yours, moving in slow and short movements so he didn’t overwhelm you. but every second he filled you up, you could feel the pain subsiding in your lower abdomen.

you let out a soft whine, clenching around him as he starts to go a little faster. his eyes trail from yours and down your neck, looking at the twin marks he left the last time he had you in his embrace.

“astarion-.” you gasp out, savoring the way he continues to roll his hips into you, molding your cunt perfectly to take him and him alone.

“yes, my love?” he whispers, pressing a delicate kiss against your neck, taking every ounce of his self control to not sink his teeth into you. but he was making you feel so much better, one bite couldn’t hurt, right? you tilt your neck to the side to show it off for him. he hesitates. “are you sure?”

“please.” a simple request he wouldn’t leave unfulfilled as his fangs dig into your neck, the same spot he drank from before. he sucks lightly, your mind clouding and filling with nothing but stinging pleasure.

his starts to thrust again — faster this time as he gets lost in the overwhelming sweetness of your blood. it fuels through his body, giving him the strength he normally needs to help keep you safe. but instead, he’s only using it to drive into you harder.

he pulls back from your neck with a gasp like he’s been shocked, blood dripping down the sides of his mouth. his attention shifts, watching his cock disappearing into your cunt, feeling you already start to gush around him, blood starting to soak around his length.

“so sweet.” the words barely leave his lips, but enough for you to hear it. his fingers move down to swirl against your clit, trying to give you the same pleasure you were giving him. “make a mess for me, my sweet.”

words escape you as moans take its place, his name a mantra you can’t stop yourself from repeating. the sting from the bite he gave you was rushing through your veins now, every sense of your nerves being heightened to places it’s never been — overwhelming pleasure coursing through your whole body.

you clench around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he can’t control his hips anymore, rutting against you as the pleasure finally consumes you both.

astarion’s eyes flutter shut as you cum around him, coating his cock in your bloody essence. once you stop fluttering around him, he quickly pulls out and cums all over your lower abdomen.

your head lolls back, coming down from the high he just gave you, aftershocks running down your body. astarion lightly trails his hands along you, a surge of energy overcoming him as he breathes in your scent once again.

“there, now that that’s settled,” he pauses, immediately sliding down and tucking his head back in between your thighs. he licks his lips quickly, his tongue darting across as his feast lays before him. “i’d like to resume my meal.”

taglist : @boogiebooboo @niqhtfell @collin-thegreat @zorosdimples @oikawabi-sabi @mammon-s (happy bday!) @moss-is-a-tasty-snack

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate smut #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #bg3 smut

6K notes · View notes

urbabycowboy · 2 months ago

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 ᝰ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; where the preachers daughter has an erotic experience with someone she shouldn’t have.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; public sex, pet names (baby, pretty girl), 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓; oral (r!recieving), fingering, climax, virgin!r

𝐬𝐡𝐞; i suck at writing smut so bear with me.

it was a warm summer afternoon as you were walking home from a youth event at your church, a bible clutched tight to your chest. the sun shone brightly, and the birds sang heavenly in the trees, matching your own light and carefree spirit.

as you turned the corner, you ran into someone you’ve tried to avoid majority of your life. chris sturniolo. he exuded confidence and charm that drew people to him. women fell at his feet and were tricked by his smooth talk and good looks.

the two of you collided, causing you to stumble back. “oh my, i am so sorry!” you exclaimed, your accent declared itself due to the embarrassment of this interaction.

chris laughed, the sound deep and captivating. “it’s okay baby, here let me get that.” he motioned towards the large, pink bible that had fell previously. his fingers briefly brushed yours as he placed the bible back in your hands, sending a tingle up your small spine.

this tingle came significant in your body as you thanked him and your heart started to beat faster than it ever had. there was something so mysterious about him but you knew you had to stay away.

“let me walk you home,” chris offered, falling into step beside you. “it’s not safe for a pretty girl like yourself to be all alone.”

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

you couldn’t refuse, and as y’all walked, conversation sparked. chris asked you about your life, dreams, and hopes. he listened intently, his dark eyes fixed on you intently.

eventually, the two of you were stood at your front gate. “thank you for your help,” you said, blushing at this encounter as a whole.

he smiled, and his eyes seemed to smolder with an unspoken desire. “anytime, y/n. i loved getting to know you, pretty girl.”

as he turned to leave, you felt an unknown boldness wash over you. “would you like to come in for lemonade? my father won’t be home for a while.”

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

a slow, wicked grin spread across chris’ face as your heart skipped a beat. “of course, darlin’.”

they say on the the porch swing, sipping lemonade, and continued their conversation. you felt yourself relaxing in chris’ presence, drawn to the relentless charm you swore you hated.

as the sky turned to a deep violet, chris set his glass down and turned to face you, his hand gracing your knee. “you know, y/n, you’re not like these other girls. there’s something special about you.” this sentence alone made your heart skip a beat as he moved closer and closer to you with each passing moment.

“i’ve never really thought of myself as special.” you admitted to him.

chris leaned closer, his warm breath fanning softly against your cheek. “you should. you’re beautiful, y/n. and i can see that desire in your eyes. you want to experience life, don’t you?”

your breath caught in your throat as you nodded, unable to speak. you had never felt such a strong pull towards anyone before, and it was both exciting and scary.

his fingers gently tilted your chin up while his thumb brushed your lower lip. “let me show you” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. without another word, his lips began to attack yours in this bitter moment.

as the kiss deepened, he pulled you closer, his tongue seeking entrance, which earned a moan from you. chris’ hands slowly started to move down your body; ending below your ass. you gasp at this action.

the dainty cross worn in your neck was now just an accessory of your faith in this moment.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

“lie back” chris muttered in between kisses, shifting his attention towards your neck. you let out a breathy sigh as he peppered your neck with wet and sloppy kisses. when he found your sweet spot, your breath hitched. this small action earned a smirk from chris as he abused that spot; nibbling and biting at your skin. you but your lip to suppress a loud whimper you desperately wanted to let out.

eventually, one of his hands found your breast, cupping it gently. his thumb rubbed over your clothed nipple and you shivered. within a second or two, your top was off and his mouth was attached to it. your body jolts when you feel his tongue circling your hardened nipple; the fabric between your legs getting damp at his touch.

he gives the same attention as before to your other nipple, his scent invading your mind and body. ending with a few small kisses, he pulls away and looks into your eyes.

“you sure you want this?” he asks, his eyes never leaving yours. every part of you wanted and needed this but you knew you shouldn’t. his big brown eyes stared you down, analyzing your face and you just couldn’t say no.

so you nodded in response and his eyes lit up as he kissed his way down your body. once he was in front of where you needed him most, he slowly spread your legs apart.

he lifted up your skirt so that it was now laying in your exposed stomach. his thumb rubbed small circles on top of your thigh as he kissed your inner thigh. making his way closer and closer to your heat.

your body tingled in anticipation as chris was taking his precious time.

“chris” you whined. chris chuckled.

“i want you to enjoy this baby. just be patient.” he said in a low tone; almost was a whisper. his lips were grazed the edge of your panties, your body involuntarily jerking. chris smirked against you.

“so sensitive” he says before finally sliding off your underwear. your body started to heat up as chris just stared at your body in front of him. your mind racing with a thousand thoughts but they were abruptly silenced when you felt his tongue on your entrance.

his motions sped up in a quick second and your hand could be found in his hair, gripping it tightly the quicker he went.

“fuck” chris groaned. your hand in his hair made something grow beneath him which encouraged him to quicken the pace even more. your back arched out of its place on the wooden swing whilst your breath got heavier and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

he increased the pressure on his tongue; to which your moans heightened in sound and pitch. the feeling was just too good. you started to unintentionally squirm away from chris’ mouth the which he gripped your thighs to hold you in place. “don’t run away” he coos. as he scooted closer to your dripping cunt, he plunged his middle finger deep into it. this action caused you to yelp.

his finger moved swiftly in and out of your entrance as he flicked at you bud with his tongue. your hips bucked as all these feeling overstimulated you in the best way possible.

his finger curled within you against your g-spot which earned a plethora of moans from you.

eventually, chris added a second finger too. the noises from chris fucking you filled the air outside. chris gripped your left thigh as a way to keep your squirming in check.

your mind was completely blank as you pulsated with pleasure. you couldn’t stop shuddering. chris could tell by the way that you were clenching around your fingers that you were getting close; but you couldn’t tell that. he quickened his motions as he leaned up to give you a kiss, to which you couldn’t return it.

as you struggled to kiss back, your body shook intensely. “let it out” chris whispered into your ear.

after a few seconds, your body stopped. chris pulled his hand out only to reveal the mess you made on his fingers.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #zi’angel🕊️

380 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 7 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗙𝗨𝗡

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where the sun inside Matt fell in love with the moon inside Y/N; OR, 4 moments between sunshine Matt and grumpy Y/N.

WARNING: Mentions of blood and pain.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N has always been known for her serious expression and sarcastic humor. She had a cynical view of the world and seemed to find fault with almost everything around her. On the other hand, Matt was the complete opposite. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, brightening up any room with his contagious positivity. It was as if he was determined to find the good in everything, no matter how dark it was.

The two were in the same class together at Boston high school, part of the same group of friends, which meant they did a lot of group work together, and it was precisely there where their contrasting personalities often collided. Y/N was meticulous and perfectionist in her work, while Matt preferred to approach topics with a more relaxed and laid-back attitude. This often put them at odds, but it also created an interesting dynamic.

One afternoon, during a school work meeting at the triplets' house, Y/N was particularly grumpy. She had faced a series of setbacks in her home and was on the verge of exploding. Matt, as always, tried to cheer her up with his light humor and unwavering optimism.

"You should relax a little." Matt murmured with a smile as his right hand worked quickly with his computer mouse, putting together the perfect slide for the presentation that would take place the next day, using Nick and Alahna's notes and research. "Not everything has to be so serious all the time."

Y/N rolled her eyes from her spot on the edge of Matt's bed, pushing the notebook that rested on her thighs roughly, feeling frustrated with his persistent attempt to lift her spirits. She knew he was just trying to help, but at that moment, all she wanted was some peace and quiet.

However, something inside her changed when she lifted her gaze to Matt's smiling face, who was still holding the mouse as he watched her from the corner of his eye. In that moment, the girl saw beyond the surface, beyond the facade of constant happiness. She saw the genuine kindness in his eyes, the compassion in his smile. And for the first time, something inside her crumbled, breaking the wall that had held firm for so many years.

A small smile began to form on Y/N's lips, almost imperceptible, but still present. It was a smile that lit up her entire face in a way never seen before and made her eyes shine with an inner light that had long been dormant.

Matt was surprised to see Y/N smiling, abandoning his task instantly and turning his face completely towards her, trying to make sure he was actually seeing that. It was as if he had witnessed something sacred, something few were lucky enough to see - maybe only him. The brunette was speechless, simply admiring the sight before him.

"What?" Y/N asked, noticing the look of shock on Matt's face, her smile fading almost automatically, giving way to her usual frown.

"It's just…" Matt began, struggling to find the right words. "It's the first time I've seen you actually smiling. And it's so pretty."

Y/N felt shy by the compliment but also inexplicably happy. She had never realized how her smile could affect someone so deeply, especially someone like Matt, who radiated joy wherever he went.

"You should smile more-"

"Shut up."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The night was calm when Matt returned from his hockey practice, but the mood inside the triplets' house was far from peaceful. He walked through his bedroom door with his shoulders hunched and his face pale, showing the anguish that consumed him inside and out.

Y/N, who was sitting on his bed reading a book while she waited for him - a habit created between them, and which his parents and brothers adored - looked up when hearing the door open. Upon seeing Matt, she immediately noticed something was wrong. Her heart sank while witnessing the boy's low stance.

"Matt? Hey, what happened?" She asked, setting the book aside and quickly standing up from her previous seat, walking towards him with a frown decorating her face.

Matt didn't respond right away. Instead, he broke down when his ears finally heard the voice he had waited for so many hours, tears flowing freely down his face. He was shaking, struggling to control his emotions as the weight of his feelings enveloped him like a dense fog.

"Hey pretty boy, breathe." Y/N ordered, pulling him into an awkward but loving hug. "It's okay. Just breathe."

Matt sniffed, trying to regain control of himself. He took a few deep breaths, following her instructions, before finally finding the voice to speak.

"It was at hockey practice." The brunette began, his voice wavering with crying and raw emotions. "One of the guys on the team... he said some horrible things to me about my performance, and I-" A sob interrupted his speech, his blue eyes closing tightly in an attempt to hold in the ugly sounds.

Y/N slowly pulled away, snaking her right hand from his bicep to his head, cupping his cheek gently, looking at his face for the first time that afternoon, her movements stopping suddenly.

The girl felt a wave of anger bubbling up inside her as she saw her boyfriend's face swollen and stained with blood in strategic spots, clearly having been punched by someone else. She clenched her left fist tightly, causing her fingers to take in a pale hue, her eyes flashing with contained fury as her chest tightened with the anguish she felt emanating from Matt's body.

"Who was it?" Y/N's firm and determined voice echoed through the room like thunder as her right hand gently turned his face from side to side, her hard eyes running over his injured skin. "Who said those things to you? No, even better. Who did this to you? I'll finish him off, I swear."

Matt's eyes widened instantly, surprised by her reaction. He knew Y/N could be tough when needed - all the time - but seeing her so determined to protect him left him speechless.

His cheeks took on a reddish hue, disguised by the blood and redness caused by crying, his lips pressed together in an attempt to contain a smile while his heart accelerated involuntarily, a small wince escaping his throat with the movement of his mouth.

"I'm fine, baby-"

"You're not, and after I'm done with whoever did this to you, he won't be fine either." Y/N interrupted him rudely, raising her eyebrows in an act of confrontation, as if she was confronting him to continue the lie.

"It's okay, sunshine. Just let it go. Please?" Matt's warm tongue escaped his lips, wetting them, while his blue eyes seemed to beg her to forget about the guy and focus on himself.

"Alright." The girl let out a loud, angry sigh, rolling her eyes as she stroked his blood-stained cheek gently. "Come on, let's take care of this."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was busy that night, with lively conversation and laughter echoing off the walls. Y/N was sitting at a table next to Matt and his brothers, trying to enjoy the meal despite the crowd around them. However, her already dark mood was about to deepen even further.

As Y/N cut into her steak with an air of concentration, she noticed a man at the next table out of the corner of her eyes. He looked arrogant, a smug smile playing on his lips as he said horrible things about a girl to his table-mates. But it was when he looked in Y/N's direction that she felt a chill run down her spine.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Y/N felt a wave of discomfort spread through her. She couldn't explain why, but something about that guy made her nervous, his arrogant and sexist comments causing her body to scream, almost begging for her to do something.

Matt noticed the subtle change in Y/N's expression and followed her gaze to the next table, running his blue eyes over the unknown man's figure. He frowned, confused by the sudden intensity of Y/N's gaze, practically feeling her fury emanating from her body.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Matt asked in an almost imperceptible whisper, leaning towards her and bringing his mouth closer to her ear, keeping his eyes on the table next to them. "Why don't we like him?"

Y/N blinked, surprised by Matt's direct question. She turned her head towards him slowly, frowning and running her eyes over his curious and playful expression, their noses almost touching with their proximity.

"You're so annoying, do you know that?" The girl asked in a cynical tone, raising her right eyebrow as she assessed him with her eyes.

"But you still love me." Matt replied quickly, as if he already had the answer on the tip of his tongue. A smirk grew on his lips as he draped his right arm over the back of the wooden chair his girlfriend sat on, caressing the skin of her exposed shoulder with his fingertips gently.

"Doesn't make you less annoying."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was busy in the kitchen of the large room in her house that she shared with the triplets, preparing a special meal to welcome the boys' parents, Jimmy and Mary Lou, who were about to arrive for a visit in Los Angeles. She was determined to impress them with her cooking skills and make the couple's first day in the bustling city worth it.

While stirring a pan of sauce, Y/N heard footsteps approaching and soon Matt's figure left the small hall that led to their room and entered the kitchen with a beaming smile on his face, his feet taking him closer to his girl almost automatically.

"Hi sunshine, need help?" He asked, stepping forward to grab an apron and approach the stove, his blue eyes darting over all the ingredients laid out as his brain tried to process what she was making.

Y/N looked up at him, her face hardened with concentration as her right hand never stopped moving the spoon.

"No, thank you." The girl responded quickly, shaking her head and returning her gaze to the sauce below her. "I can do this on my own."

Matt frowned, ignoring her answer and rescuing a steak knife from the cutlery drawer, extending his free hand towards the still raw meat, ready to cut it into ideal sizes.

"Matt, I said I can do it myself." Y/N repeated slowly, as if she were speaking to a child, casting a furtive glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"I know you can, petal." The boy murmured softly, putting down the knife and raising his now free hand towards his girl, lightly pressing his warm palm against her still arm, caressing her skin. "But I want to be here with you to help in some way. It doesn't have to be everything or nothing."

Y/N sighed, feeling a little guilty about her own reaction. She didn't want to push Matt away, especially when he was just trying to be caring and helpful.

"Okay... I'm sorry." Her apology escaped in a barely there whisper, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a firm grip.

"What are we having for dinner today?" Chris's loud and excited voice echoed through the living room and kitchen as the boy climbed the stairs that led him from his room, interrupting the moment between the couple, eliciting a laugh from Matt and an eye roll from Y/N.

"None of your business."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

804 notes · View notes

ppomumgranatum · 8 months ago

Text

truth or dare.

also available on Ao3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

type: one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader

word count: 6.5k

Rating: M

Warnings: use of profanities, mild sexual content, Intense make out sesh 😳, characters are in their 7th year.

Summary: Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

It was girls night for you, Imelda, Natty, and Poppy at the Three Broomsticks. The warmth of the crackling fire danced across the cosy interior of the Three Broomsticks as the four of you settled around the table just by it. The mood is relaxed, the air thick with the aroma of butterbeer and laughter. Shirts and ties, usually stiff and proper, now hang loosely as you let yourselves unwind, embracing the comfort of casual company.

Behind the bar, Sirona moved with practised efficiency, her long apron swaying as she poured drinks and served food with a smile. The clinking of glasses and the clatter of plates blend with the lively chatter of the patrons, creating a vibrant symphony of sound that fills the room.

She made her way over to your table not long after Imelda signalled for another round of butterbeer. If anyone was keeping count, it might have been your third glass, and the beverage had everyone feeling increasingly lighter.

The Slytherin quidditch captain suggested that they should play a game of truth or dare, knowing the game would make the night more exciting and perhaps deepen their friendship.

The rules were simple: each of you would take turns spinning a bottle to determine who would be asked the truth or dare. The chosen person would then have to decide between revealing a truth or completing a dare, no matter how daring or embarrassing it might be. If anyone refuses to do so, they must chug their entire glass of butterbeer.

Imelda, always the adventurous one, volunteered to go first. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she spun the bottle and watched eagerly as it came to a stop, pointing straight at Poppy. Without hesitation, she immediately challenged her Hufflepuff friend, “I dare you to dance in the middle of the Tavern.”

Poppy, ever the good sport, rose to the challenge with a laugh, “Natty, I know you’re the Gryffindor, but let me show you bravery.”

With a confident smile, Poppy gracefully made her way to the centre of the bustling tavern. The eyes of the other patrons followed her every move, curious and amused by the unexpected spectacle unfolding before them. She began to dance, her movements fluid and graceful, drawing cheers and applause from the crowd. With each twirl and leap, she seemed to radiate a contagious energy, filling the room with a sense of joy and excitement.

They cheered her friend on from the table, her dare proving to be a testament to Poppy's drunken adventurous spirit and unwavering bravery.

“I can’t believe she’s actually doing it.” you laughed, feeling disbelieved that drunk Poppy is very funny.

“Go Poppy!” Imelda clapped and cheered at her tiny friend who’s twirling in the middle of strangers.

As Poppy completed her final twirl, she accidentally collided with a taller guy, and his arms instinctively encircled her petite waist to steady her, preventing any stumble.

“Oh! Sorry!” As Poppy apologised, she quickly realised the man she had bumped into was none other than Ominis.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Ominis just chuckled good-naturedly, “Nice moves.”

“T-thanks.” She knew that Ominis was simply being courteous because obviously, he couldn’t have seen her doing all those moves.

“Oi! Poppy, no!” Imelda shouted from across the room, prompting the two people to turn their heads to the loud girl calling out for her “It’s girls night. Come back!”

Poppy chuckled, shaking her head at Imelda's exuberant interruption. "Looks like I'm being summoned," she remarked, casting a playful glance at Ominis before walking away from his embrace. Ominis smiled understandingly as Poppy made her way back to our table, her steps light with amusement.

Your gaze followed Ominis as he made his way back to his own table, and you found yourself locking eyes with Sebastian, who obviously came with his best friend. You were having so much fun with your girls you didn’t notice they were here. You didn’t even know that Sebastian was planning to visit the Three Broomsticks as well.

His piercing gaze held yours for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and you returned his smile. It felt as if your gut was twisted and turned, in the most enchanting way possible because, Merlin, that man is beautiful as hell.

Natty nudged you to get your attention back and smiled kind of teasingly but you didn’t really bother.

The night went on and the game kept on going. The dares became increasingly daring, you found yourselves caught up in the exhilarating energy of the game, revelling in the thrill of pushing each other outside of our comfort zones.

Natty spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist, the anticipation building as it whirled around before coming to a stop and finally it was finally your turn to take up on the challenge.

A playful smirk danced across Natty's lips as she posed the inevitable question, "Truth or dare?"

“Truth.” You said.

Imelda scoffed and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise at your choice, “I thought the girl who fought goblins and dark wizards to save Hogwarts would be more daring.”

Imelda's playful taunt elicited a round of chuckles from the rest of the group, but you remained unfazed, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. You knew that sometimes the most revealing truths could be just as daring as any physical challenge.

“Don’t worry, I have a good question for this one.” Natty assured, "What's the deal with you and Sebastian?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, but you couldn't help but smile at Natty's boldness. The other girls quickly leaned in eagerly, clearly intrigued by the topic.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling a rush of emotions swirling within you. Sebastian had been a constant presence in your life ever since you started your Hogwarts day, his friendship was a source of comfort and strength through both joyous and challenging times. But there’s all to it– friends.

It was not the first time someone threw that question at you. You understood that the close bond you shared with Sebastian might inadvertently lead others to misconstrue your relationship. It wasn't uncommon for people to mistake deep friendships for something more romantic, especially when the connection was as strong as yours and Sebastian's. While you cherished his companionship more than words could express, what you two have was purely platonic.

At least that’s what you like to convince yourself.

Although you’d be lying if you never wondered what it feels like to run your fingers through his brown hair, or how comfortable it would be to rest your head on his chest, or.. how soft his lips might feel against yours. You couldn't deny the allure of such fantasies, the temptation to explore the unknown and experience the intimacy that might lie beyond the boundaries of friendship. But as quickly as the thought had surfaced, you pushed it aside, unwilling to entertain notions that could potentially complicate your relationship with Sebastian.

So in conclusion, do you like Sebastian? Yes.

Will you admit it, even to yourself? No.

But still, you were determined to cherish the friendship you shared with him for all that it was– a source of comfort, support, and hearty companionship. This wasn’t something you’d be willing to risk losing.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you guys, but there’s nothing going on between us.” you lifted your mug to have a sip of your butterbeer as you replied.

“And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you– you’re clearly lying.”

You chuckled at Natty's persistent teasing, her playful banter a familiar soundtrack to your conversations about Sebastian. Despite your repeated assurances, your friends seemed determined to challenge the authenticity of your claims.

With a good-natured shrug, you replied, "Believe what you want, guys, but I assure you, there's nothing romantic."

“Really?” Imelda chimed in, “You’re saying, all of those late night ‘studies’ you often share, those ‘adventures’– for two years, neither of you ever had any momentary lapse?” She pressed on as she made some air quote gestures with her fingers.

Sure, there were stolen glances, and perhaps touches. Not anything raunchy, but like when Sebastian wordlessly reached out and took your hand in his during your walk home from Hogsmeade on a chilly night to keep you comfortable.

Or other moments when Sebastian would act sweet and protective towards you, but you figure it’s all a natural thing. Like how he would come between you and the oncoming attack, shielding you from harm with his own body during your battles with dark wizards. It was merely a fleeting instance of a friend's deep-seated desire to ensure the safety of their companion, just like how you took the Cruciatus curse for him in the scriptorium.

But then again, nothing ever goes beyond any of that. No confessions nor pursuits of something romantic were ever explicitly made. Those moments always dissolved into other lingering echoes of unspoken words.

“Hey, Natty asked the question and I answered.” you stayed persistent with your statement “There is truly nothing.”

“Don’t you wish there was something, though?” Poppy innocently remarked.

Well, isn’t Poppy Sweeting just fucking delightful when she’s drunk, asking all the right fucking questions.

You hesitated, eyes shifted around your friends who were staring at you, anticipating the answer. You couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. They knew you well enough to sense what you were possibly feeling, but as friends who are supposed to be annoying to each other, they just want to hear it coming out of your mouth. The confession– the admittance of your long profound feeling towards the Slytherin boy whose longest relationship was with detention.

Taking a deep breath, you met their gaze with a forced smile, “No, Poppy. Sebastian and I have always been close, but–” You replied as you were trying to choose your next words carefully. "I know you guys want this to be something so bad but I value our friendship too much to risk anything.”

It was a half-truth, a carefully crafted response designed to conceal the true depth of your feelings. The other three shot you a look of disappointment because yet again another lie came out of your mouth.

"Anyway, why is it always about me and Sebastian?" Your frustration bubbled to the surface as you interjected, unable to bear the spotlight focused solely on your relationship with Sebastian. "What about Poppy and Ominis? Aren't they just as obvious as whatever you think is going on with me?”

With a determined edge to your voice, you redirected the conversation, shining a light on the dynamics between Poppy and Ominis. After all, they too shared a close bond that was evident to anyone paying attention. Poppy's cheeks flushed slightly as the attention turned to her.

“Hey, don’t try to change the subject, alright?” she was refusing to have their own relationship coming under the same scrutiny.

There was a momentary silence as Imelda and Natty exchanged glances, like a sudden moment of realisation dawning upon them that they also don’t know much about what’s going on with Poppy.

“So..” Natty carefully started, “Have you guys kissed yet?”

“Stop it.” Poppy insisted.

Imelda chimed in, her tone light but her question holding a curious edge. "You know what I always ponder about?" she mused, her eyes flicking between her friends. "If he's blind, do you reckon he'd still know where.. everything is?" Her hand swept in a casual arc, encompassing Poppy's figure in a playful gesture.

“Imelda Reyes!” Poppy’s eyes widened in disbelief at her friend's vulgar question. You and Natty could only let out a satisfied laugh at the remark. Imelda shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as she revelled in the reaction she had elicited. It was moments like these that reminded you all of the genuine bond you shared, forged through laughter, support, and the occasional inappropriate joke.

The banter continued unabated, with Imelda persistently needling the annoyed Poppy, her playful jabs met with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. Meanwhile, Natty, ever the peacemaker, interjected with lighthearted comments and gentle nudges to steer the conversation away from the edge of tension.

As you watched the amusing interactions among your friends, you realised that your glass was running empty. So you took a final chug at the remaining butterbeer and excused yourself from the lively conversation. You made your way to the bar, eager to replenish your beverage.

At the bar, you signalled Sirona for another round, patiently waiting as she bustled about, attending to the needs of other patrons. Leaning casually against the polished wood, you watched as she deftly mixed drinks and served customers.

In the midst of your wait, a man sidled up beside you. You took a glance at him and realised it was a Ravenclaw student, Andrew Larson. A charming grin played on his lips and you returned his smile. He raised his hand to catch Sirona's attention, signalling his order with a casual wave. With a quick nod and a warm smile, she acknowledged him before returning to her tasks. As Andrew turned back to you, his gaze lingering a moment longer.

“Hi." he greeted, "Haven't had the pleasure of seeing you around here lately.”

You returned his greeting with a warm smile. “Well, it’s our final year, with the N.E.W.T coming up–” She sighed, “You’re a Ravenclaw, you know the rest.” As a resident of the house that embraces learning, she figured he would be able to relate the most.

Andrew's charming grin widened at your response, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Well, I'm glad you’re here now." he said, his voice smooth and easygoing. "This place is always more enjoyable with good company."

Did he just.. flirt with you?

The hottie of Ravenclaw– the tall, broad shoulder, blonde, Andrew Larson was flirting with you? It was flattering, surely, but your heart wasn’t exactly there.

“Can I get you–” As he was about to offer you a drink, Sirona came with your fully filled mug of butterbeer. Andrew halted his sentence, a bit embarrassed, but made quite the quick comeback “something else from the bar? Snack, maybe? Or more drinks?”

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as you noticed Andrew's flustered reaction to the unexpected arrival of your butterbeer. It was clear that he had been planning to offer to buy you a drink, only to be thwarted by Sirona's timely arrival.

"Actually, I think I'm all set for now," you replied with a grateful smile, gesturing to the mug of butterbeer in front of you. "But thank you for the offer."

“Are you sure?” He persisted.

“Yes, Andrew.” You gave him your warmest and sincere smile.

Andrew nodded understandingly, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks as he recovered quickly from the momentary embarrassment. "Well, if you change your mind–”

“I don’t think she will, mate.” Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Sebastian's voice cut through the air, his presence suddenly dominating the scene. He leaned casually against the bar, his arm resting just behind your back. It almost felt like he was about to embrace you, his proximity drawing you in.

With Sebastian's taller frame towering over you, it felt like your face was almost nestled somewhere around the crook of his neck. Amidst the chatter of the tavern and the scent of butterbeer, you couldn't help but catch a whiff of his cologne—a captivating blend of fresh, woody, and spicy notes that seemed to envelop you in its seductive aura.

“Excuse me?” The sweet and soft look on Andrew’s face was replaced by a subtle hint of defensiveness.

“She doesn’t want anything from you, so.. run along, Larson.”

Caught between the two men, you felt a surge of unease wash over you, unsure of how to diffuse the tension that hung thick in the air. Andrew didn’t even bother to argue with Sebastian, he just excused himself and the two of you were left alone.

Your hand instinctively reached out to smack Sebastian's chest, the action fueled by a mixture of frustration and confusion. "What the fuck was that?" you demanded, your voice low but laced with an undercurrent of anger.

Sebastian flinched slightly at the unexpected gesture, his expression shifting from defensiveness to contrition. "I was just trying to protect you from that undoubtedly sleazy guy who's trying to worm his way into your clothes. You're welcome."

"What?" you exclaimed, caught off guard by Sebastian's blunt statement.

"It's Andrew Larson," Sebastian clarified.

Your face twisted into a puzzled expression as Sebastian stated the obvious, and you replied sarcastically, "Oh, pardon me, I thought it was Ominis."

Sebastian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You know how he is."

Sure, whispers were circulating about Andrew, portraying him as a womaniser whose primary goal was to seduce as many girls as he could. But you weren't some naive ingénue who could easily be swayed by sweet words and charm. Despite feeling flattered by Andrew's attention earlier, you were offended by the implication from Sebastian, of all people, that you were incapable of protecting yourself. After all the battles you've faced and triumphed over, you knew you were more than capable of handling any advances or situations that came your way.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in response, a mixture of annoyance and amusement bubbling within you. It was typical of Sebastian to jump to conclusions and assume the worst about others, especially when it came to your interactions with guys.

"Yeah, I know," you replied, your tone tinged with sarcasm. "Because Andrew is clearly the biggest threat to my virtue in this entire tavern."

“Merlin, did your butterbeer contain five percent alcohol and ninety-five percent sarcasm?” Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh as his frustration was evident in the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just looking out for you, okay?" he muttered, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

You softened slightly at his words, "I’m sorry," you said while offering him a small smile of reassurance. "But, maybe I wanted to be swayed and flirted with by some cute guy tonight.” Those last statements came out a bit soft but Sebastian could still hear it.

Sebastian chuckled softly at your admission, his eyes softening with amusement as he took in your slightly flushed cheeks and the playful glint in your eyes. "Wow, you're really drunk, aren't you?" he teased gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You grinned sheepishly in response, nodding slightly. "A little bit, yeah," you admitted, feeling a surge of warmth spreading through you at his lighthearted response.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you caught Sebastian's intense gaze locked onto yours. There was something magnetic about the way his eyes bore into yours, drawing you in with an almost hypnotic allure.

His appearance only added to the intensity of the moment. His hair was tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome, his shirt untucked and his tie slightly loosened, giving him a casual yet undeniably appealing air. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing the veins in his arms, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction deep in your chest.

Merlin's sake, he looked so hot.

For a moment, you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze, captivated by the raw energy that seemed to radiate from him. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

"So, you girls having fun?" Sebastian asked with a casual tonel as he attempted to steer the conversation back to lighter topics.

You nodded, grateful for the change in subject. "Uh, yeah, we're just playing truth or dare," you replied, gesturing towards the table where your friends were gathered.

Sebastian's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh, is that why Poppy randomly started dancing then?" he asked, a hint of amusement colouring his voice.

“Yeah, something like that," You chuckled. “Anyway I think I should go back before Imelda starts screaming at me.”

Sebastian nodded in understanding, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, probably a good idea," he agreed. "I'll see you around?"

You returned his smile with a nod, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you. "Definitely." you replied with genuine affection.

It sounded like an assurance– like a promise that you will always be around.

As you rejoined the lively group at the table, the warmth of Sebastian's presence lingered in the back of your mind. Immediately, you were greeted by a chorus of playful cheers and teasing remarks from your friends. Imelda, in particular, couldn't resist the opportunity to poke fun at your brief absence, teasing and winking suggestively in Sebastian’s direction.

You knew this would just add more fuel to the fire of assumptions your friends are already burning. Your cheeks flushed at the teasing, but you couldn't help but laugh along with them. Throughout the night, amidst the laughter and banter, you couldn't help but steal glances at Sebastian, who was seated across the room. His presence seemed to draw you in like a magnet, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversation at hand, your gaze would inevitably wander back to him.

It’s getting late, and your group is getting aggressively more drunk. Everyone was so out of place, Imelda, with her usual flair for the dramatic, had climbed onto a nearby chair, belting out a tune that she had seemingly composed on the spot. Her voice echoed through the tavern, a mix of off-key notes and drunken enthusiasm that drew both cheers and laughter from the patrons.

Natty, meanwhile, had succumbed to the effects of the alcohol, her head resting on the table as she dozed off into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend, her normally lively demeanour replaced by the serene expression of someone lost in dreams.

And Poppy– oh dear, sweet, Poppy, was sitting on Ominis’ lap with her tongue down his throat. you caught Sebastian's eye, and you couldn't help but give him a sympathetic look. But to your surprise, he simply shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. It seemed that even he couldn't resist feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of his best friend finding some unexpected romance amidst the chaos of the night.

With a chuckle, you shook your head in amusement, realising that despite the drunken antics and the questionable decisions, nights like these were what memories were made of.

Despite your best efforts to keep up, you found yourself feeling increasingly out of sync with the chaotic energy of the group. The alcohol seemed to weigh heavily on your senses, dulling your reactions and leaving you feeling disconnected from the revelry around you.

You noticed Sirona, the bartender, casting concerned glances in your direction. Her furrowed brow and subtle gestures of worry did not go unnoticed amidst the chaos of the tavern.

Finally, she approached your table, her expression a mix of concern and gentle determination. "I hate to interrupt the fun, but perhaps it's time for you all to call it a night." she said softly, her voice carrying a note of genuine care.

With a sigh of resignation, you understood that it was up to you to take charge and ensure your friends made it home safely. Despite Poppy's protests, you gently coaxed her away from Ominis' embrace, linking arms with her as you led the group out of the tavern.

As you walked, Poppy violently let go of your arm and ran to stroll by Ominis’ side, their laughter and whispered conversations filling the night air. Imelda and Natty stumbled along behind them, their steps unsteady but their spirits high as they chatted and laughed amongst themselves.

Bringing up the rear, you found yourself walking alongside Sebastian, the two of you trailing behind the rest of the group. You were stumbling a little bit so you reached out instinctively to steady yourself, grasping onto Sebastian's arm for support. Your fingers wrapped around his muscled and strong biceps, finding purchase in the solidity of his frame.

"Whoa, easy there," he chuckled, his voice warm and amused as he shifted slightly to support your weight. "Looks like someone's had a bit too much to drink."

You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing, the sound echoing through the quiet streets of Hogsmeade. "Guilty as charged." you admitted, leaning into his solid presence as you regained your balance.

You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected closeness, the warmth of his touch sending more heat to your face. You still have your arms tightly secured around him as you navigate the streets of Hogsmeade together. As you and Sebastian walked, your pace noticeably slower than the others, you watched as your friends gradually disappeared ahead of you. Imelda's infectious laughter echoed down the street, followed by the soft murmur of some other conversations.

“Hey, let’s play truth or dare.” you proposed, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you glanced at Sebastian.

Sebastian chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I don't know if I'm ready to share all of my secrets." he teased.

You chuckled at his remark, the alcohol still coursing through your veins lending a sense of boldness to your suggestion. "Come on, it'll be fun."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Alright, you go first. Truth or dare?”

You paused for a moment, considering your options before finally replying, "Dare."

A mischievous grin spread across Sebastian’s face as he formulated a challenge. "I dare you to.. serenade the next person we pass on this street.”

You scoffed at the challenge, deeming it far too easy to pass up. As an older gentleman, dressed impeccably in a top hat and proper suit, approached, you seized the opportunity. Stepping boldly in front of him, you launched into a spontaneous serenade, belting out a random song from the depths of your imagination.

The man's reaction was one of sheer bewilderment, his eyes widening in disbelief as he continued walking, shooting you a perplexed glance over his shoulder. But you were undeterred by his reaction, pouring your heart and soul into the impromptu performance.

Sebastian couldn't contain his laughter, doubling over with amusement as he watched the scene unfold. With a grin, he pulled you away from the bemused gentleman before things got too out of hand and you got reported for harassment. "Alright, you lunatic," he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was not too shabby."

You grinned triumphantly as you kept on walking, feeling a rush of exhilaration at having completed the dare. "Hey, I aim to please." you replied, your voice filled with satisfaction.

As the two of you continued down the street, still chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay, your turn." you said to Sebastian.

"Truth." Sebastian replied, his expression curious yet composed.

You hummed thoughtfully, considering your question carefully before finally deciding on one that would test the waters. "Do you think I'm pretty?" you asked, your voice tinged with playfulness.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected question. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Of course," he replied sincerely, his voice soft yet earnest. "I think you’re beautiful."

You hummed in amusement and couldn't suppress a giggle. "I think you're beautiful, too, Sebastian Sallow." you admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at the confession. As you rested your head on his arm, a comfortable silence settled between you.

He chuckled at the sight of your sly face leaning on his arm and eyes could barely manage to stay open “You’re so drunk.”

“I told you I wanted to be swayed by a cute guy tonight.” you mumbled, your words slurred slightly from the effects of the alcohol.

"I think you've had enough swaying for one night," he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

You let out a soft giggle in response, the alcohol making everything feel hazy and surreal. "Maybe," you conceded with a playful grin. "But it's your turn. Quick.”

“Fine. Dare me.”

“Alright,” you replied. This time, you took your time considering what dare to give him. You want to make sure that you’re optimising this opportunity. You didn’t know what had gotten into your head aside from the obvious alcohol, but spurred on by a sudden surge of courage, you somehow managed to say, “I dare you to kiss me.”

Sebastian laughed at your request, and thought you were kidding, but it quickly died down and stopped at his feet when he saw your face looking serious “Wait, you’re serious?”

You held his gaze steadily, “Yes.” Despite the sudden rush of nerves coursing through your veins, you stood your ground, determined to see this dare through. “Kiss me.”

His expression shifted from amusement to something more contemplative, like his eyes were searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But your gaze was unwavering as if urging him to finally close the distance you’ve been dreaming to perish.

Sebastian took a step closer and lifted your chin with his finger to get a better view of your lips. As he leaned in closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation of your first kiss with Sebastian, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. When his lips finally met yours, there was a surge of energy coursing through your entire body, sending shivers down your spine.

It was a soft and tender kiss, nothing deep, but it filled with emotion that had been kept away for two years. It was truly a moment that took your breath away. Surrounded by the quiet beauty of the night, you felt a connection between you and Sebastian that transcended words. It was as if the universe had aligned just for this moment, bringing the two of you together in perfect harmony.

He pulled away, and your gazes locked. You could tell his breathing was shallow from the nerves. The look on his eyes was something you’ve never seen before like a mixture of desire, longing, and a hint of vulnerability. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to devour you– to be lost in you with passion.

In that moment, you felt a surge of boldness coursing through you, fueled by the electric connection between you and Sebastian. Without hesitation, you reached out, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing together in a fierce and hungry kiss. It was like a wildfire consuming you both, igniting a passion that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer until your bodies were pressed tightly together. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt the heat of his touch. It was as if every nerve in your body was alight with lust, and you couldn't help but respond to the intensity of the moment.

As if spurred on by the sound of your moan, Sebastian deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a hunger that matched your own. You felt his crave coursing through him, a raw and primal energy that left you breathless and wanting more.

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, inviting him to explore the depths of your mouth with his tongue. Sebastian tilted his head so he could gain better access. It was a dance of passion that's been kept away for two years and each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

It was truly magical, and sensual even. You didn’t care about the fact that the two of you were standing in the middle of the road or if someone passed by and stared, because in that moment, it truly felt like you finally owned each other. It made you think of all the sinful things you wanted him to do to you and It was as if a silent understanding passed between you, a shared desire that fueled the intensity of the kiss. Without a word, Sebastian guided you backwards until your back met the sturdy trunk of a tree by the roadside.

As his lips trailed along your jaw, ear, and down to your neck, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the sensation of his touch. Every brush of his lips against your skin sent heat to your loin. When his hand found its way to your breast, cupping and squeezing it with a firm yet gentle touch, you couldn't contain the moan that escaped your lips. Your body truly felt as if it was on fire, craving his touch with an intensity that left you breathless.

Instinctively, you lifted your leg to his side, drawing him closer and inviting him to explore further. The consuming lusts between you was fucking evident.

As Sebastian's hand explored your chest, eliciting waves of pleasure with each touch, you couldn't help but release another soft moan of pleasure “Oh.. Sebastian..”

At the call of his name, it was as if a sudden wake-up call had jolted Sebastian out of the passionate haze. He pulled away abruptly, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes filled with a mix of realisation and apprehension. In that moment, it was as if the weight of what had just transpired between you both crashed down on him like a ton of bricks.

All you could think about was the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the realisation dawning on you that your friendship with Sebastian was officially ruined. The two of you were breathless and exhilarated. Your lips swollen and tingling with the remnants of his touch.

He took a couple of steps back away from you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you screamed in your head. He remained silent, his eyes locked on yours, leaving you to wonder what the fuck was going on? Was he regretting it? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you as you tried to decipher the expression on his face. It was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping in.

“Sebastian..” you whispered.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said as he looked away, “I didn’t mean to..”

“It’s okay..” You replied.

Your words echoed in the silence that followed, and you felt a pang of disappointment wash over you. It was as if reality had come crashing down, shattering the illusion of the moment you had shared together. But then, unable to resist the urge to seek reassurance, you blurted out the question that had been lingering in your mind. "Do you like me?"

Sebastian's expression softened as he looked back at you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that sent a flutter through your chest. “Of course, I do.” He replied rather softly.

“Like a friend?”

A lump formed in Sebastian’s throat, making it hard for him to swallow as nervousness crept over him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation they were about to have. “Well, friends don’t do the things that we just did, do they?”

“Not really.” You replied. The weight of his words sobering you up almost instantly. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the stark reality of the situation between you.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions, each of you grappling with the implications of what had just transpired. You took a deep breath and with a shaky hand, you reached up to straighten your messy shirt and ran your fingers through your dishevelled hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Do you want it to be more than just a friend?" he finally managed to say.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability reflected in them, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “Do you want it to be?”

“I asked you first.” He quickly and assertively interjected, “Do you want it to be something more?”

"Yes," you replied softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart. "Yes, I do."

"Then, how come you never said anything?" he asked, his tone tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“How come you never said anything?”

He felt a pang of guilt at his words, realising that he had been holding back his true feelings for far too long. "How was I supposed to know?" he shot back, your voice tinged with defensiveness.

"Oh, because we've only been hanging out together every day for two years, we shared countless life and death moments, was that not enough?" you added sarcastically, the weight of your unspoken emotions finally surfacing. “Am I.. not enough?”

Sebastian's expression softened at your words, a look of understanding crossing his features. He took a step closer. "You are more than enough," he said softly and his voice was filled with sincerity. "You are everything to me."

“Everyone wonders why we aren’t together,” you echoed softly. “Well, little did they know I also wondered the same thing.” You looked up at Sebastian, meeting his gaze with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. And as you stood there, lost in each other's eyes, you could find everything you’ve ever wanted.

He took another step forward, “I want you.” and another, until he could reach out to caress your cheek, “I’ve always wanted you ever since you kicked my ass in Hecat’s class.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his response, a mixture of relief and joy bubbling up inside you. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and suddenly, everything felt right in the world. His fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. In that moment, all the doubts and fears that had plagued you seemed to fade away.

“I want to love you.. to feel you..” He continued, “Way more than what we just did.” He smiled, but you could tell he was a little bit nervous.

"Well, you made me wait two years," you teased gently, a playful glint in your eye. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

Sebastian's smile widened at your response, a sense of relief washing over him as he realised that you felt the same way. In that moment, you knew that you were both ready to take the next step in your relationship, to explore the depths of your love together with open hearts and open minds.

And as you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the journey that lay ahead. With Sebastianfinally by your side, you know everything is going to be great.

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom

696 notes · View notes

imagitory · 7 days ago

Text

I've never been more heartbroken in my life.

I was gobsmacked in 2016, don't get me wrong. I was devastated and frightened and shaken beyond words. I even had to go behind a wall and collect myself at one point that horrible November 9th, 2016, after colliding with a man wearing a red MAGA hat at work. A good chunk of us at work talked amongst ourselves about it, offering each other comfort.

But this? This is different. I could imagine dumb people making excuses for voting for Trump in 2016 -- saying that they thought a businessman would be good for the economy, saying that they wanted someone who wasn't a "Washington insider" like Hilary Clinton. Sure, it was stupid, but people can be stupid. Quite frankly, a lot of people are stupid, in this country and otherwise.

But now? Anyone who voted for Trump now has voted for a man who not only rounded up immigrants and put them in concentration camps separated from their families; bungled the response to COVID-19 so badly that the American death toll easily surpassed every other country on Earth; has poisoned the Supreme Court to the extent that they overturned years of precedence with Roe V. Wade and has basically given Trump cart-blanche to do whatever he wants while he's president; was the first president in history to refuse to concede on election day; was impeached for crimes in office not once but TWICE; was instrumental to and passionately supportive of the full-on attempted coup at the U.S. capitol on January 6, 2021 that could've very easily resulted in the deaths of his own Vice President and multiple members of Congress; has spoken glowingly of despots like Vladimir Putin and Kim Jong Un and even said he will be "a dictator on day one" if elected again; has both used slogans originally used by modern American Neo-Nazis ("America First") and purportedly told one of his ex-subordinates that he wanted generals like Adolf Hitler's...but also has by the day proven more and more just how mentally inept, vindictive, and mean-spirited he truly is.

And unlike in his previous races, Trump is ahead in the popular vote too. We can't just blame this on the electoral college being antiquated and gerrymandered AF like in the Trump-Clinton or Bush-Gore elections. Even if all of the third-party voters in this country had grown a bloody brain cell and voted for Harris so as to show solidarity against Trump and his form of American fascism, it still somehow wouldn't be enough. We could potentially blame this on lower voter turn-out -- according to what I'm seeing so far, even with all the votes not counted in this race yet, it looks like there were far less votes cast this election than in the last one, though likely still more than the 2016 race. But even so, I don't think that's the only problem. I truly think there were just a lot of people who turned out en-masse to vote for Trump. And all I can think in regards to those people is...

This is beyond stupidity or even selfishness. This is cruelty. This is large swaths of people deciding that they want fellow American citizens to suffer -- because in their minds, if those people suffer, that'll somehow make them happy. This is a large chunk of America saying, "yeah, you know all that crap about 'liberty and justice for all'? Screw that, I want a 'strong man' to bully people different from me for my own amusement." And -- perhaps -- there's also an element of feeling like their vote doesn't really have any consequences for them, so why should they care if the man they voted for is a god-awful person? It's not like that man will hurt them.

I had hoped. I had hoped, seeing the outpouring of support from liberals, independents, and conservatives for Harris/Walz. I'd hoped, seeing how many ex-Trump appointees were standing up against him, how much people were shouting their disdain for Project 2025 from the rooftops, and how many women were protesting in the face of Roe V. Wade being overturned. I truly had started to hope that America would prove we'd grown beyond our country's own original sin -- how our United States preached freedom for all while still being built on the backs of slaves and refusing to grant a vote to over half their population -- by electing a smart, successful, charismatic woman of color who sees our country as great in potential and wants us to pursue that potential as our first female president, rather than backtracking all the slow progress we've made over the last 200+ years.

But now...my hope has faded. My heart is in pieces and the world is so dark. I hardly know how I'll function at work tomorrow, even if I know somehow, I have to try. We'll all have to stand somehow. Somehow, someway...we'll have to find the strength. We'll have to stand, and we'll have to keep moving forward, even when it feels like we're a Little Mermaid walking on knives.

We'll have to stand.

#personal #excuse me politics coming through #donald trump #kamala harris #opinion #oh boy here i go

135 notes · View notes

httpscomexe · 2 months ago

Text

Runaway

Summary: You’re a mutant, a hybrid actually, and hybrids are big in the market. So when the x-men find you, you’re considered a priority.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Hybrid!Reader

Warnings: Mutant trafficking, violence, descriptions of gore, kidnapping, death, blood, language, alcohol, some drug mention. (Individual warnings per chapter)

Word Count: 4125 (Find all chapters here) CH2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

“Hey. Come on out.”

You’ll never understand why everyone hated mutants. Everyone found them disgusting, revolting, a descendant of satan. It was bad, the way the world was turning out. They wanted mutants either murdered or locked up, as if you didn’t all have emotions just like every other being. You had them stronger, but we’ll get to that later.

You were scared to go into public, your trust for humankind growing thinner as every day passed by. You really thought they were all horrible. That was until you met the best human on the planet.

Matthew.

He was into the whole “you’re created the way you are for a reason,” and “All lives matter, even the mutants.” He even had a whole hippie van, a Volkswagen to be specific. Painted a sky blue with a little rainbow design on the front bumper to show he meant peace.

You occasionally go out with your friends, and they’d smoke week and drink whiskey while you stared into the fire. Only joining them when they “meditate to lift their spirits and become one with God.” Whatever that meant. But he didn’t want you to let them know you were a mutant. Apparently he didn’t want to cause a scene or make a big deal out of it. You found it sweet at first, but after a few months of it happening, you wanted it to stop. You wanted his friends to just accept you for the way you were. A mutant.

You weren’t a vicious mutant. You’d never hurt anybody in your life. Well. You have. On accident.

But he didn’t know about that. He knew you were an introverted mutant that wanted nothing to do with the world. Sometimes you’d want to just end your pain and misery, but that would only boost every human's ego, and kill the mutants.

You’ve thought about leaving without a word also, maybe even going to the ‘X Mansion’ at some point, but you weren’t sure that they would accept you.

You were more than a mutant, you’ve been told that enough times before.

You’re a freak.

You were born wrong.

Your parents knew you were going to be born a mutant. The tail and large ears on your scan showed that, but they still had you, even knowing you would be tortured the rest of your life.

You’ve been in and out of rings, forced to fight other mutants, but you’re always immediately bought by another rich fuck. Apparently your cute little deer tail and big ears were sexually arousing for them.

But you’ve gotten lucky, always being bought out by another rich old white dude who offered more money to the last.

You also got lucky when the last guy had a heart attack, old age got to him. So you got away, and you met Matthew.

Matthew.

He spoiled you. Buying everything you loved, and everything you showed him. He loved you. Adored you for who you are. You were happy. You really believed that not every human was bad, that maybe there were some good people in the world.

Money was more important to him in the end though.

When you told him you weren’t ready to have sex with him, he was more than just angry…

“You fucking bitch!” You scream as his hand collided with your cheek, the force sending you to the floor, landing hard on your ass, bending your little tuff of a tail. “After everything I’ve fucking done for you, you can’t even just fuck me once!?” He shouts down at you before grabbing your fluffy ear, pulling you back up to your feet. “Fuck it, you little fucking freak, I’m calling mutant control.” Tears were already streaming down your face, and you didn’t have it in you to bother crying for him not to call them, the line was already ringing on his phone, the sound was distant but yet it felt so loud in your ears as he explained that a mutant with a tail and large ears was in his apartment. Then you heard it.

“Oh good, someone finally found my doe…”

You’d recognise the voice from anywhere.

“I’ll offer you 32 million.”

Of course, he never got the money. Instead, he received a bullet to the head, and he got to be meat for some dogs. Part of you felt bad, but whatever.

That brought you to now though. Curled up in the back of a dog kennel, a red collar around your neck with a little taser on it if you didn’t behave.

“Hey, come on out.” The voice tells you. The man dressed in black had a large gun on him, the same one every other guy was wearing. “I said come out!” He raises his voice, and it startles you, making you basically lunge out of the cage and he quickly pulls you to your feet and shoves you forward.

It was feeding time. And of course, they made fun of you by throwing a large bowl of freshly picked greens in front of you on the table. AKA, grass from the front yard.

How funny.

So no, you haven’t eaten since you got there, about 5 days ago. But you weren’t the only mutant who was in the warehouse. There were about 15 others, each of them with unique abilities or as the humans would call them, “Deformations.”

There was a guy you got along with, his name was Peter. Or that was the name you gave him. His skin was scaly like a lizard, and his tongue was naturally split, his pupils horizontal. He was an animal mutant, just like you.

Alongside him were a few other mutants, one that spat fire, his tongue always taped shut. A girl that could see into people's minds, a blindfold on her eyes.

Everything that you were all born to do was restricted, your powers all held back.

“Eat you fucking animal.” The man nudges you with his gun, but you continue to slouch over, ignoring him. “I said fucking eat!” He smacks the side of your head, and tears threaten to fall. “Fuck it.” He mumbles, grabbing a handful of the grass, little pebbles of dirt still attached to it before attempting to shove it into your face, trying to force you to eat the fucking earth.

“Let, GO!” You shout, pushing him as hard as you could, then picking up the bowl and slamming it over his head. But just before he could knee you in the stomach…

“You fucking-“

“Hey, don’t hurt that one.” The Russian voice comes to the fucking rescue. Again.

He’s wearing the same robe, basically a KKK onesie with a red line down the middle, along with his stupid fucking hat that made him look like a pedophilic blinged out pastor. You were sure he wasn’t allowed near schools.

“This one is my prized possession.” He stops in front of you, and you swear he’s gained a few inches in height. You wouldn’t doubt he wore heels. “Isn’t she just adorable, so feisty for a little deer.” He chuckles, and you want to punch him, but you instead clench your fists at your sides. His hand reaches up to stroke your ear, something you’ve grown to hate. And after a moment, he tugs it, forcing you to your knees, ignoring your pained cry as he continues to hold your fluff tight in his fist. “Okay little girl, I’ve had just about enough of you… if you want to starve, then fucking starve…!” He growls, throwing you to the side, and not a moment passes before two large hands from different men are gripping your arms and taking you back to your room, quickly tossing you in your cage.

“What’s in here?” The voice sounded young, a woman. Not a voice you’ve ever heard before. But it startles you awake. “I don’t see anything.”

“Wait what’s that?” You sit up, pressing your back against the metal of the cage.

“Take the cover off.” Some footsteps approach your confinement, and your ears pin to the back of your head. If you were a dog, your tail would surely be tucked between your legs as a hang grips the plastic sheet covering your cage, and they move the cover away from the front of the kennel, slowly so as not to scare whatever was inside.

“Is there anything?” You scoot further to the back of the cage, not wanting anything to do with whoever it was, you couldn’t see any of their faces. The bright light behind them was only casting a silhouette in front of you. The one who opened the cage, a man, was huge. He was at least 6 feet, and his hair seemed to peek in two places like kitty ears.

“Yea, a hybrid.”

“A vicious kind?”

“I have no idea, you look.” He steps aside, and another person steps forward, a woman with red hair. “Hey there, we're not gonna hurt you.” She tells you, using a key to unlock your cage. But you still don’t trust it, moving further against the back of the cage, you were sure there would be lines on your back from the pattern of the cold metal. “Hey, hey, hey…” She speaks softly, trying to calm you, but you weren’t going to give in. Not again. “We’re here to help you…” She opens the cage door slowly, and gets onto her knees to appear smaller. But you don’t move, you only seem to compress yourself further against the grate, and you see her sigh. “Hey can you dim the lights so she can see us better Ororo?” She turns around, asking another woman about the lights, which she swiftly moves to adjust the lights. Now you could see all four of them clearly.

The girl in front of you had red hair, she was pretty, and she was wearing a blue and green suit. Ororo had white hair, along with a matching white suit. Then there was a man standing near her, also wearing some tight spandex looking suit, but he also had goggles on his eyes, it stood out at his other features. But then there was the larger man. His little cat ears were just his hair, combed to sit like ears.

“We’re mutants too…” She tells you, staring into your eyes. Your ears are still pinned to the back of your head, you didn’t care that they were mutants, you’ve been betrayed enough. “Sweetie, we need you to come out…” She holds her hand out, and you flinch, making her flinch also. She was scared of you too. “Logan, we’re gonna have to grab her.” What? You look around frantically, but of course, you didn’t have anything to use as a weapon.

The man you assume named Logan walks up to the cage as the orange haired girl backs away, then the other man with the goggles speaks.

“Wait.” Logan stops, turning around to look at him.

“What?”

“Maybe just back away from the cage, she might feel more comfortable that way.” He tells Logan, and you all watch as he slowly backs away, all of them creating some distance between the cage and their bodies, Ororo blocking the door in case you try running.

You hesitate at first, but you slowly move to all four, cautiously crawling out and your ears twitch slightly, listening for any sound of movement as your eyes dart back and forth between the group. As soon as you’re out of the cage, you begin to stand to your feet. You were smaller than them. Much smaller. But you’re smaller than everyone, you were an animal hybrid after all.

And you weren’t just a deer, you’re a fawn.

You look between them, and they can tell you’re still scared. Your ears weren’t as low as before, but your body still stood stiff.

“So you’re a deer hybrid?” The voice comes from your right, Ororo. She crosses her arms to appear less threatening before she takes two steps towards you. But you don’t back away, you only tilt your head curiously. “Are you able to speak? Can you understand us?” She stops about a foot from you, and you nod your head slightly, still not sure about them, but your trust was growing for Ororo. “What’s your name?”

“Who are you guys?” You finally whisper, your throat sore from not talking for too long.

“We’re X-men. We’re here to save you, and the other mutants in this warehouse. Have you heard of the X-Mansion?” You nod, and cross your arms over your chest. You’ve never bothered with the X-Mansion, always figured it was some sort of trap for mutants. Hell, the four people standing around you didn’t look like mutants.

You look around the room again, your eyes only stopping when they land on Logan. You recognize him now. He’s the Wolverine. And you weren’t sure why, but you seemed to be… attracted to him. Not romantically, but just attracted. You suddenly felt safe as you looked up at him, not even realising it when you took a few steps closer to him, your tail wagging just once, a natural indication that you were at ease, something of course that only deer do.

Apparently, you made it obvious that you felt safer around him. It wasn’t the tag wag, the ears coming up, or the way your pupils filled the entire shape of your eye when you were excited. It was clinging onto him suddenly. Throwing your arms around his waist and holding onto him like your life depended on it. Which honestly, I probably did.

He wasn’t excited for the mission, he wasn’t nervous for the mission. He just wanted to get the mission over with. Obviously, he cares about the people he saves, the mutants. He’s gone on hundreds of missions before, considering his age. So another rescue mission, only 15 mutants, was nothing big to him.

He got into his suit, pulling the yellow costume over his body until it settled nicely before working on his boots, lacing and tying them tight.

“Are you excited for the mission? I heard these mutants are a bit more unique.” Ororo asked him, crossing her arms and staring at him from the doorway as she leaned against the wall, watching as a puff of smoke leaves Logan's lips, the thick cig in his mouth about halfway done.

“You’re saying that like we're opening a pack of pokemon cards, Ororo.” His voice is gruffy. He had just woken up, being told he was replacing another person who wasn’t feeling well. He wasn’t up for it, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“We basically are.” She shrugs, taking a step into his room, putting the pad of her index finger on one of the knife's Logan had displayed on his desk. “I mean we don’t know what kind of mutants were getting, but if we get one powerful enough, we use them in battle. One smart enough we use them in the mansion, one special enough…” She pauses, sighing slightly. “We don’t let them go.” She finishes with a smile, pulling her finger back, a spot of dust now lying on her dark skin. “So yea, we’re basically opening a card pack.”

“Well, hopefully the enemy doesn’t have a Mewtwo wrapped around their fingers.” He groans as he picks up a bag on his ground, tossing it into his bed before zipping it open and looking for his favourite dagger.

“You know Pokemon characters?”

“I’ve been alive for 200 years, of course I know a few.” He tells her, it felt like more of an admission though as he finds his favourite dagger. A silver one, adorned with yellow diamonds, an engraving of a Wolverine on one side of the blade, on the other side was a girl's name next to his, right after it the word ‘forever’ was carved into the silver. The sight made him sick, not out of disgust or anger, but out of sadness as he remembered the girl.

The love of his life.

She was gone. Another person he loved, that he let down that day…

“Hey, are you still there?” Ororo knocks on his skull like a door. “Where’d you- oh-” He shoves past her, not bothering to engage in conversation with her just yet.

The jet lands with a jolt, everyones body rocking slightly with the impact on the ground.

“We’re here!” Scotts voice announces from the front, shortly after, Jane is walking ahead of him and to the door of the jet where she puts in a code on the wall's keypad, unlocking the door which hums as it opens.

The smell wasn’t exactly what Logan had expected when the door opened to vast woods, some night animals scurrying away at the sight of the four mutants. He expected the smell of wood, leaves, maybe even some animal scat or death. But that’s not what he picks up at all, he finds something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He can tell none of the others could smell it.

Animals. And not just any animals. There were lizards, birds and a few others. Most hybrids were reptiles or birds, the normal. Then there was something different. Some sort of… mammal. He’s never met another mammal.

They find the warehouse door, two men with large weapons standing at the entrance, cameras at every angle. He knew some of the cameras were props, only set up to scare people. Only one of the outside cameras actually worked, which made sneaking into the front entrance incredibly easy, the only obstacle being the two men.

Once they were in, the four of them searched the building.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be in here!” A group of the men, all dressed in tactical gear we’re lined up with their guns pointed at the four of them.

“Give us the mutants, and we won’t have to kill you all.” Jean steps forward, Logan's claws extracted slightly, Scott begins reaching up, and Ororos fingers twitch. The mens guns lift slightly.

“This is your last warning, leave the building, or we will be forced to shoot!” He puts his hand up, fingers out and flat, telling his men not to shoot yet.

“Okay, you asked for this.” Was the only warning they receive before Jean throws all of them against the walls, some of the dropping their guns.

Scott lasers a few of them, taking his time as a few of them get punches to the throat, and Ororo creates a fog that blankets the entire room, hiding the real weapon.

Logan moves through the fog, slitting throats and cutting legs to make men fall to the ground. One of the men, a little harder to kill, manages to block one of Logan's punches, his claws becoming lodged inside of the man's forearms, emitting a loud scream from his throat as Logan attempts to pry his claws out of the man's arms, he keeps moving, also trying to pull away, which only made his pain worse. As the flesh in his arms turns to a thick jelly continues to move back and forth with the six claws, the metal begins sawing through the man's arms, the sound could only be described as a dull knife cutting through an orange with bones, blood splattering everywhere everytime the man would move, his vitality soaking the worn tactical jacket like a wet sponge, dripping down onto the floor and covering Logans white shirt with a crimson pulp, and it soaks into the concrete below them like rain. Then the man's limbs seem to disconnect, only held on by the thin of his skin and some severed flesh. The man screams with tormented pain, the fog seeming to move to his breath leaving his mouth as it swirls to the sound, to Logan's annoyance, he ends the man's screams with another claw to the throat, his body falling to the ground with a loud thump before Logans moves onto the next man, killing them all off until there was no one left.

“Are they all dead?” Ororo shouts as she dissipates the fog, leaving a humid scent to the air.

“I think so?” Logan answers, checking his shirt and grunting when he realises its soaked in blood, making the rotten liquid stick to his skin.

“Fuck Logan, think you over did it a little?” Scott motions his hands toward the floor, another man is sitting on his knees, seemingly attempting to scoop up his organs, intestines spilling out of his stomach like an overfilled spaghetti bowl.

“He’s fine.”

“He’s not gonna be fine.” The man continues to try holding in his organs and intestines, eventually falling onto his side, curling up and hugging his large intestine into his belly, as if it would help.

“Well now he’s not fine.” Logan growls, motioning his hand towards the man as his mouth drops open, allowing more blood to pool onto the floor, reddening the cold stone under him.

“Scott, you come with me, Ororo you search under those covers, Logan, you get the rooms.” Jean orders, even though Logan was in charge, but they all listen.

Logan goes from room to room, but has no luck in finding anything other than some classified papers that he puts his lighter to and some porno magazines in one office which he flips through a little before burning that too, watching as a models tits turn black before completely burning away, and he sighs heavily, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thick cigar.

“Not in here Logan.” Ororo whispers, but speaks normally when she turns on the light in the room, and then she points to the back of the room where a large cage was placed in a corner. “What’s in here?” She asks him, wondering about the room a little.

“I don’t see anything.” He grunts as he stretches slightly, then the other two enter the room.

“Wait what’s that?” Ororo points to the corner of the room, and some movement could be heard from under the covers.

“Take the cover off.” Jean nods towards the cage. Logan walks towards it, his heavy boots thumping on the floor. His hand reaches for the cover, and he takes a big portion of it into his fist before slowly tearing it away, careful as not to scare whatever might be inside.

“Is there anything?” Scott takes a few steps towards him, Logan's eyes are trained on you. Just a girl, sitting in the cage, back pressed against the cold metal confinement. There’s more conversation, but you don’t listen to it. You were more focused on watching them, ready to fight if any of them lunged forward.

“Yea, a hybrid.” Logan speaks, looking down at the creature.

“A vicious kind?”

“I have no idea, you look.” He steps aside, letting Jean step in front of him to get a good look at it.

“Hey, hey, hey…” She reaches into her pocket, taking out a blood covered key that he assumes she found on a body. “We’re here to help you…” She tells the hybrid, her voice soft so she doesn’t startle it. “Hey can you dim the lights so she can see us better Ororo?” Ororo listens immediately, dimming the lights in the room, and Logan notices the way you squish yourself against the back of the cage. “Were mutants too sweetie, we need you to come out.” She held her hand out, hoping you would grab it, and as you flinched, Logan’s claws extract just slightly. “Logan, we’re gonna have to grab her.”

“Wait…” Scott warns.

“What?”

"Maybe just back away from the cage, she might feel more comfortable that way." They all exchange looks, but they listen, Logan backing away, but he’s ready to run if the girl starting running.

He watches as you crawl out, your large ears pinned back, your little tail tucked. A deer hybrid. He realises, his head tilting slightly.

He doesn’t listen to the rest of the conversation, only staring at you, scared, small. But he does notice the way you seem to only grow against him, occasionally taking a step back towards him, he could tell you were only comfortable because you recognized him.

And he loved it.

“Let’s get her out of here.” He tells the team, stopping whatever conversation they were having. “Before the enemy backup comes.” He huffs, then his arm gently wraps around you, but he leads you, letting the rest of the team walk ahead of the two of you while he holds onto you.

“You’ll be alright…”

#marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #smut #marvel smut #wolverine #logan howlett #logan x reader

176 notes · View notes

perlelune · 7 months ago

Text

Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | vii.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A heavy breath flows from your lips as you grip the edge of the sink. Your gaze lands on your reflection. Your chest seizes. Your fingers trail the path of bruises and bites Coriolanus scattered on your cheek and neck. A flash of his body shoving yours into the mattress crosses your mind, his throaty moans, his smell clogging your senses. A shiver races along your spine. You step back from the glass until your back collides with the opposite wall. You slump onto the floor. You glance at the bathroom door, thankfully locked. You need a minute on your own. You bury your head between your knees, body shaking as you wrangle with a sudden rush of emotions.

Only vague snippets of the night before remain in your mind. Still, you believed him when he stated you didn’t say no. You’re fairly sure that the word never passed your lips. So how could he divine thoughts you didn’t express?

Coriolanus isn’t a mind reader.

Especially when you sounded so needy and desperate, rambling about never being kissed.

He probably misread you, assuming this is what you wanted.

In truth, he gave you exactly what you asked for. Perhaps even begged for, though your memory is a little foggy.

You rise on quivering legs, deciding to shelve the upsetting musings aside. You’re a virgin no longer. It’s a good thing…isn’t it? For years, you thought no one wanted you, that you would never experience what others did. That you’re too plain, attractive, weird and awkward. And you suppose, in his own way, Coriolanus proved you wrong last night. You keep convincing yourself of that, playing the words in an assuaging loop as you shed the dress and step into the shower stall.

The scalding water pelting your skin casts a balm over your stormy thoughts. You hiss when it stings in certain places, the ones where Coriolanus left marks that are still visible.

Your gaze drifts down. As you watch blood trickle from between your thighs and swirl down the drain, your stomach clutches.

You cling to the bathroom tiles, breaths growing heavier.

Panic escalates inside you. For a few minutes, you remain this way. Steam surrounds you as you spread your fingers over the wall. Hot tears drip down your cheeks, melding with the water sliding along your bruised flesh.

By the time you step out of the stall, your skin is pruned from how much time you spent in the shower. Much longer than usual. Furiously rubbing and scrubbing at your flesh, as if your shame and disillusionment could be washed off like grime and dirt. Shaken off like a bad dream or a pesky thought.

When you trudge outside of the bathroom in your robe, Coriolanus is on the bed, waiting for you as he said he would. You fidget beneath his stare. He rises and approaches you.

“I should probably take a shower too. I’m filthy,” he observes, his nose scrunching as he sniffs his shirt.

“Sure. Go ahead. I’ll…get dressed.”

You try not to flinch when he drops a quick, chaste kiss atop your head.

“Thanks, angel.”

He disappears in the bathroom. The pitter-patter of the shower fills the room, ropes of steam escaping through the crack at the bottom of the door. Your shoulders sag. You allow yourself to relax, using that reprieve to sift through your clothes until you find a decent outfit. Your spirits dim. The state of your closet is beyond desolate. It didn’t bother you before. After all, no one cared what you wore. But now, you realize how much it matters. You don’t want to be a blight upon Coriolanus’ perfect image. He’s always dressed so well.

After a lengthy internal debate, you settle on a long, black dress at the very bottom of your wardrobe. One you bought on a whim but wouldn’t have worn in a million years before. Elegant, flowy and flaring at the waist. You’re grateful for the long sleeves and high collar that will conceal the marks Coriolanus left on your skin.

You don’t want anyone to see. And, if possible, you don’t want anyone to know.

It likely was a one time thing. After all, Coriolanus has his pick of girls from Uni to choose from. So many who have been batting their eyelashes at him since the year began. He’d never go for someone like you. No, he’d rather court somebody like Livia or Persephone. Even Clemmie would be a far better match for him.

It must be as he explained. He got lost in the moment. You surmise this happens sometimes when people are drunk. They do things they wind up regretting afterwards.

You go to your bedroom door, bemused when you find it locked.

As soon as the door opens, Walter leaps into your arms. He meows loudly, rubbing his face against yours while licking his paws. You chuckle.

“Hey, buddy. Let’s get some food in you, okay?”

You pad across the living room with Walter clinging to your neck. You grimace as you walk, an ache still radiating in your lower body whenever you move.

You note that his bowl is still half-full, meaning that Coriolanus must have fed him like you asked. A sliver of relief flutters through you. You felt so guilty for not returning home earlier. The ginger ball of fur is reluctant to part from you, his claws sinking into your collarbone.

“Walter,” you admonish. “I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry.”

He ends up allowing you to put him down. You sigh as you fill his bowl with dry meat and fish leftovers. You know how anxious Walter can get when you’re not around. You sometimes wonder if it’s because of the time he spent in your mother’s lab, being poked and prodded. Does his memory even go that far back? You genuinely hope not, a shudder coursing through you at the knowledge of how your mother treats her test subjects.

You stroke his fur as he bends down to eat. The familiar softness beneath your fingertips soothes you.

You’re so distracted that you don’t hear the muffled steps creeping behind you.

“Should we go now?”

You bolt upright, startled by Coriolanus’ abrupt presence.

“Sure,” you mutter.

The corners of his lips quirk upward.

“You look pretty,” he says, prowling forward.

“T-Thank you,” you stammer in response.

Without thinking, you stagger backward, your stomach flipping when he matches your steps. Your back hits the counter.

The blond crowds your space, placing his hands on each side of the countertop. Your heart misses a beat beneath his ponderous scrutiny.

He cocks his head, his index finger outlining the buttons of your collar.

“It looks a bit uptight though, doesn’t it?” Amusement sways in his cobalt orbs. “Why cover so much skin?”

He flicks the first two buttons with his finger and the top of your collar comes loose, revealing some of the hickeys on your neck. Gasping in shock, you rush to button it back.

“Coriolanus…” you chastise.

He snatches your wrists before you can fix your dress, his intense gaze ensnaring yours.

“Are you trying to hide them?”

Fire blooms in your cheeks.

“I don’t want people to see and gossip,” you reply quietly.

When he inches closer, his potent scent fills your nostrils.

“Let them gossip. Only useless people do that.” His inflection is dismissive, final. His smile broadens. “You shouldn’t hide. You and I had a wonderful time. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“O-Okay.”

He leans to plant a soft, slow kiss on your lips.

He strokes the side of your head. Long, lithe fingers attach to your collar. He undoes more buttons until a hint of cleavage is exposed. You don’t protest or argue this time, girdling your breath until he’s done. His eyes roam over you, satisfaction lighting his handsome features.

His voice is silky smooth as it pours from his lips.

“There. Much better.”

Just like last time, Coriolanus opens the door of his car for you.

“Climb in, angel,” he whispers against your ear, making your heart race.

For a while, he drives while humming a soft tune to himself. You twine your hands in your lap, lost in the mayhem of your thoughts. You try to bury last night as far in the depths of your mind as you can, loathing the tendrils of dread coiling around your insides every time a sliver of remembrance slips through. It’s a brand new day. You must look ahead.

Astonishment slithers through you when you realize Coriolanus is headed towards the Corso.

Your head snaps up.

“I thought we were going to the city.”

“We'll stop by the penthouse first.” He turns to you. “I need to change, and check on the Grandma’am.”

“The Grandma’am?”

A soft smile hovers on his lips.

“My grandmother. I live with her and my cousin.”

Your brows knit. Right. Tigris Snow, you believe her name is. You may have seen her and Coriolanus together before. You always thought that was his sister. They both don the signature Snow blonde hair and blue eyes and share the same towering stature.

“Oh. You’re lucky,” you say absently.

He tosses you an inquisitive glance.

“Lucky?”

“To live with your family.” A forlorn smile spreads onto your face, your head dipping. “My mother she’s…she’s never around.”

His brows crumple.

“Truly, never?”

“Never.”

“What about your father?”

Your heart sinks to your feet.

“He…He’s never had any interest in being in my life. He left when I was a baby. Mother says he hates the Capitol and left to start a new life in District One.”

His hand drops over your thigh. His fingers caress you gently as he says, “I’m so sorry, angel. You deserved better, from both of them.”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance despite the prickling in your chest.

“It’s fine. I can’t miss someone I’ve never met.”

His gaze locks with yours.

“Still, it had to be tough, without your parents.”

Uncomfortable, you veer the topic in his direction.

“What about yours?”

You don’t recall ever seeing his parents around either. Neither at the Academy. Nor that first day at the University. Just that statuesque blonde girl around his age you are fairly sure was his cousin.

Coriolanus’ cheek flares, his face hardening.

“Both were killed by rebels…in different ways.”

“Different ways?”

“Yes. My father died while serving and my mother…” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again. When he speaks again, his tone is icier. “She bled out in labor because of those damn rebels.” You flinch, floored by the sheer rancor bleeding in his voice. His lips tighten. “Both she and…my little sister died.”

Your mouth drops. Coriolanus must have been so young when it happened. You and your mother aren’t close, but you can’t picture your life without her in it. Coriolanus lost his so soon and clearly had so much fondness for her. A wave of sympathy fills you.

“That’s awful. I don’t…I don’t have any words,” you say, tentatively covering his hand with yours. He surprises you by lacing your fingers together.

“None are needed,” he replies tonelessly. He turns his focus back onto the road, concluding in a matter-of-fact inflection, “It’s why we need the Games. To keep those filthy district rats in their place.”

Your mouth clamps shut. You don’t believe in the Games, finding them needlessly cruel. But your mother and Coriolanus do, actively working together to raise the viewership for next year.

A wave of queasiness swells within you.

Silence hangs between you and the blond, not another word leaving your mouths until he arrives at his home.

Coriolanus takes your hand and drags you inside. The two of you make your way through the lobby and up the twelve ornate flights of stairs leading to the Snows’ penthouse. You get lost in the gold and blue patterns swirling beneath your feet.

When he crosses the apartment threshold, he tells you to wait for him and takes long strides towards what you assume must be his bedroom.

You awkwardly linger by the entrance, your eyes meandering about. Everything looks recently renovated, a veil of tarp hanging by a glass window where some construction still seems underway. You step further inside, pacing across the living room while waiting for Coriolanus.

“Hi, I don’t believe we met.”

You whirl, blinking at the appearance of a stunning, slender blonde bearing an eerie resemblance to Coriolanus.

She smiles at you. You relax, gathering that this must be the cousin he mentioned. Tigris Snow.

“We haven’t,” you say.

She studies you. “You must be something special for Coriolanus to bring you around.”

“I-I doubt it,” you reply with a shrug.

She shakes her head.

“My cousin’s never brought any other girls here. Some friends visited but…no one like you.”

“No one like me?”

Sadness flickers over her delicate features briefly before she approaches you.

“Just be careful with him, okay?” she whispers, her voice hushed and secretive, almost as if she dreaded being heard. Her gaze lingers on your neck, a frown forming on her brow. “You just seem so nice and sweet. And Coriolanus he…He’s changed a lot lately. So promise me to take care of yourself.”

You’re stumped at first. It seems such a strange thing to say about her own cousin to a perfect stranger. Your forehead creases.

“Changed in what way?” you can’t help but ask.

Her mouth opens to form a reply but the loud clearing of someone’s throat forestalls whatever she was about to say.

You both whip your heads at the same time.

“Tigris,” Coriolanus says tersely while smoothing the cuffs of his shirt. He’s wearing a fresh new suit, his platinum locks neatly slicked back as always. “I see you two met.”

Tigris blanches. She gives you a quick hug.

“I hope to see you again,” she says before scampering out of the room.

“Me too,” you respond, still perplexed by the peculiar exchange.

Coriolanus turns to you.

“Is everything alright?”

“Of course. Why?”

He takes a step forward, a strange look on his face you can’t read.

“Tigris didn’t say anything strange to you, did she?”

“No, nothing,” you instantly reply. You kick yourself inwards. Why did you lie? You can’t even say yourself. Pure instinct drove the answer out of you.

He tilts up your chin, his intense blue eyes plunging into yours.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, angel? If she said something, I mean.”

The drumming of your heart grows deafening.

You yield beneath the weight of his unflinching stare, words tearing from your tongue in a nervous heap.

“She told me to be careful,” you confess.

He snickers. But even as he laughs, you note the way his gaze hardens ever-so-slightly. He doesn’t like that Tigris said that to you, you realize. You should have kept your mouth shut.

His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip.

“I’m glad that you told me,” he croons, his tone much softer than before. “I hope you know that you can trust me, angel. Always.”

“I know,” you mumble, sinking in the sea of his gaze as he cradles your face.

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

378 notes · View notes

bonbonshideout · 8 months ago

Text

Ticci Toby headcanons

Pre-Slender

♤ He's clingy. If he likes someone or is even remotely comfortable, he would follow them around just to feel comfortable.

♡ He's... playful, he isn't the brightest, but he would try and play some pranks if he can, usually learn about you and see what can get you upset & use that on you.

◇ Mf got that crow brain. He would see anything shiny and take it. He's got a growing collection and even looks for things to give to his favorite people. Lyra originally gave him a box to store the items in, but it started growing a bit 'out of control', and so he has shelves and other boxes with random nick-nacks.

♧ His little cow? Lyra, 100%. When he was younger he had a lot to deal with and Lyra wasn't always able to be with him so she saved up some birthday money and bought him a cow plush, due to it being from his sister, he's kept it and carried it literally everywhere with him. Multiple rips and tears, but his mom always fixed it up for him. He loved it and would take to around as he grew older, though he didn't have it out in public like he did when he was younger.

♤ His hoodie is one of a kind and handmade. His mom was the one to have made it. Originally, he wanted a hoodie that was like any other, but he couldn't puck between a couple of them; his mom, in the end, decided to create a simple looking hoodie for him.

Post-Slender

♤ He doesn't remember much. Yeah, he might get occasional flashbacks, but they leave him confused. He wants to figure out what they mean but at the same time he's a bit scared of doing so.

♡ His hoodie? he loves it, covered in patches of different colors, or at least he tries to color match.

◇ He still has his cow, but he doesn't carry it around as much. He keeps it in a safe place; having a connection to it but not knowing its origins anymore. He baby's it occasionally when he does take it out of his little storage area. That thing has gone through way too much, put it out of its misery already.

♧ Lyra's spirit haunts him, but it's not supposed to be much of a tormentor; though he sees it that way, Lyra is trying to guide him in life. I believe the operator's doing some shit to his mind that's causing him to see Lyra's spirit as vengeful, or it's simply creating an image of Lyra and whispering into Toby's mind about he's at fault for everything.

♤ He's still got that crow brain, still finding things to give to people (Natalie) , a pretty rock, maybe a button, anything he finds, he takes it and saves them.

♡ He's strangely affectionate, he isn't the type to be overbearing, but he likes to hug Natalie whenever he can, usually she accepts them, but there are times where she isn't in a good mood and it upsets him a little— he gets over it quickly though.

◇ He's terrified of cars and probably motorcycles, too (blame Nat for that one). Occasionally, though, he is forced into either one due to Natalie for faster transportation. He hates it and curses her out through the whole ride, but he does see how convenient it is.

♧ In Spanish, there's a term for kids who don't know anything, the "no sabo" kid. He is that type of kid, but with German. He knows very little, and even then, he can't form proper sentences. He's trying to learn when he isn't busy murdering people or starting fires. Usually asking Natalie to help him out— even though she doesn't speak German— he just wants someone to practice it with.

♤ He HATES being seen as vulnerable or lesser than. He doesn't really know why to the full extent, but he does know that it just sucks. He wants people to know that he can do as much as anyone else can, heck, maybe more and better.

♡ I wanna say he had an ego, but it's more playful. He jokes about having a huge ego, but he could care less if 'someone offends him' (aside from the previous hc).

I feel like some of these collide with some headcanons a friend might have? idk, I honestly forgot his entire essay 💀

#bonbonshideout #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #headcanons #ticci toby #toby erin rogers #toby rogers #ticci toby headcanons

310 notes · View notes

nell0-0 · 4 months ago

Note

Could you possibly do a fic where the Chain meet Legend's cucco companion, Piyoko? I want to see their reactions to her :D

Sure thing! Sorry for the wait, but here it is ^^

Main characters: Legend, Four, Wild, Wind & Warriors (+Piyoko, of course!)

“Legend, don’t freak out, but don’t you dare move.”

…Not exactly the words one would like to hear first thing in the morning before coeherency made its appearance on his brain, but he would have to deal as usual, Legend figured. What went wrong now?

“…why” Legend said, voice thick with sleep and slightly slurred despite his best attempt.

Turning the other way and sleeping this problem away was so tempting. Problem he wasn’t aware of, mind you, because he could more or less glimpse everyone else around camp. Either sleepy, still snoring or staring at Legend with an intensity only deserved for a dangerous foe or-

“There’s a-“

Legend reached above his head, his hand colliding with something soft, a familiar texture greeting his cautious fingers.

“Wait, stop!”

“Goddesses, he’s doomed.”

“Legend, noooo!”

Grabbing whatever it was, a suspicious squeak as a result, Legend used his elbows to hold his weight while he looked at the cause of alarm for the three dumbasses in front of him.

“Pyo!”

…a cuccoo. Well, at least it wasn’t a tiny monster out for his blood. Even though that description adhered to cuccoos most days. Not to this one, chirping excitedly at seeing Legend’s messy face with dry drool still on the side of his mouth.

The others (just three of them, at least) had jumped back. He had expected the over the top reaction from the champion, who was wieling a soup ladle as if it was a weapon. Not so much from Wind who shouldn’t know what they were since he didn’t have them on his era and he hadn’t yet been attacked by an angry flock on this adventure. Definitely wasn’t expecting Four with a… cane? A magic cane.

A magic cane he hadn’t told Legend about. Darn it.

“Really, guys? First thing on the morning?”

“Why are you so calm about this?” Wind squinted at Legend, taking Wild’s soup ladle and poking at Legend’s face with the round edge. Wild shot Wind a betrayed look, who shrugged in response gesturing at Legend in a baffled manner.

Four’s eyes seemed to shimmer a myriad of colors, his face contorting awkwardly as if he couldn’t decide on whether he should laugh, get concerned or scold them all and go back to sleep.

“Guys, it’s okay, it’s just Piyoko.”

Holding the cuckoo, no longer the little chick she had been while on their adventures with Din’s troupe and the Nayru fiasco, Legend cooed. Wind poked at Legend again, bewildered. The look Piyoko threw the sailor was murderous, the poor kid backing off as if burnt and abandoning the wooden ladle to its uncertain fate. In retaliation, Wild flicked the kid on the forehead, quick to retrieve yet another soup ladle from his seemingly infinite supply on that slate of his.

Why soup ladles? Why not swords. Goddesses knew Wild never had enough of those with the rate he kept breaking them at.

Only Four seemed coherent enough to get them back on track from their usual shenanigans, despite being the less alert of the three.

“Piyoko?”

“Piyoko” Legend smirked. Four’s eyebrow twitched.

“And who’s Piyoko supposed to be? Aside from a cuccoo, I mean.”

“My cuccoo.” At the united front of three unimpressed heroes, Legend relented. “I’ve raised this mayhem bird from before she hatched from the egg.”

“What.”

How eloquent, Wind.

The commotion had seemed to catch Warriors’ attention. Or maybe he had been listening the whole time and Legend had just not noticed. Give him a break, he had just been rudely woken up without a good reason from his power nap after the second shift of the night watch. If he wanted to be grumpy or mad about that fact, he was well within his rights.

Either way, as usual, Legend thought while rolling his eyes out of habit, the war captain butted in the conversation.

“Is that a hero spirit thing, raising cuccoos?”

When Wild and Four shot him bewildered looks, probably questioning if Warriors also had a hidden cuccoo somewhere, Warriors was quick to deny it. Weird.

“If it is, then maybe that’s where Linkle gets it from.”

Legend stared at Wind uncomprehendingly. No way someone had named their daughter that, right? Right?

“Exactly my point.”

Okay, nevermind, apparently Linkle was a thing now, and both the captain and the sailor seemed to know her. How that was possible since, supposedly, none of them had met before this journey of nine heroes, was anyone’s guess. But neither asked about Ravio living in his house earlier that week, despite those two also impossibly knowing the scammer, so Legend wouldn’t ask about this either.

Four sighed, as if incredibly tired of this conversation already — Legend had been the one woken up, not Four, the nerve — he asked “and who’s Linkle?”

“My sister.”

Wild stared. “Your what.”

“You have a sister?”

“Not the point!” Warriors flushed, pointing at Legend. Trying to redirect the dumbass trio’s attention back to him, it seemed. That fucker. “Why are you asking me about my sister when Legend is still holding that cuccoo like nothing!”

Maybe if he was more awake, or if Legend wasn’t secretly elated that Piyoko had sneaked out to join him that day, he wouldn’t have said the next words. As it was, he was way too tired to care.

“To be fair” all eyes snapping in his direction, Legend grinned. “I threw Piyoko at Ganon.”

…

“Why did I never think of that.” Wild stared off at the morning sky, looking as if the world had opened new possibilities he hadn’t been aware of before. It was probably accurate, too.

Four just gaped at Legend, for once at a loss of words.

“She almost plucked an eye out. It was awesome.”

“Weaponized cuccoos.”

“Terrifying.” Wind may have said that, but the glint on his eye told another story.

Warriors took a step to the side, putting some distance between himself and the sailor, seemingly having an internal crisis.

Huffing, Legend dropped his weight on top of his bedroll again, Piyoko flapping her little wings before gently settling on top of his head. While the others woke up and those four got their shit together, Legend was sure he could manage to sleep another five minutes.

#asks #writing requests #linked universe #lu #lu legend #lu four #lu wind #lu wild #lu warriors #my fanfic tag #why do i never proofread idk #beware of typos #there may be some

180 notes · View notes

nothingbutsweetwords · 3 months ago

Text

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ɢᴏ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴀɴᴅ…"

Word count: 7,150.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

REUNION — 11. Her.

Her heart skipped a beat when, inadvertently, she nearly collided with him at the threshold of Helaena’s door. Although she should have anticipated the possibility of finding him there, her thoughts had absorbed her so completely that she forgot about that eventuality.

Aemond looked at her intently before slightly inclining his head in a greeting that felt as harsh as a cold slap. “Niece” he pronounced with a formality that seemed unusual, like a barrier that had risen.

It was as if that single word was a reminder of the distance that now lay between them, a sharp contrast to the days when they had called each other by their names, when their voices had been soft and intimate, meant only for each other’s ears.

Upon entering, a feeling of relief enveloped her, as if the warmth of the place allowed her to release the breath she had been holding and as if the very air within had the power to soothe her troubled spirit.

It was a reflection of Helaena: decorated with soft tones and peculiar objects that seemed to have been chosen with almost ritualistic care. There were antique furnishings and pale blue silk curtains, and delicate aromas of dried flowers and spices pervaded the air. Everything created an atmosphere that made her feel like she was in a world apart, far from the realities waiting outside those walls.

“It is lovely to see you, princess” Helaena said, her voice as soft and ethereal as she remembered, a melody that always seemed to float in the air. Despite the years, she retained that magical aura.

“And you as well, princess” she replied, returning the smile. “I was wondering, could I interest you in a walk through the gardens?”

Helaena’s smile deepened as she nodded, then rose from her chair and approached her. She remembered that she had never been fond of physical contact, so with a subtle gesture, she decided not to offer her arm, respecting that particular trait that had always characterized her.

They walked side by side, exchanging words about trivial matters as they made their way through the halls. The bustle that filled the place and the presence of others compelled them to keep the conversation light, avoiding topics that might attract idle glances. However, there was an undercurrent of unspoken thoughts, a tacit understanding flowing between them.

Eventually, the noise of the castle faded as they reached the gardens. The winding paths were lined with freshness and color, and the murmur of the fountains created a soothing symphony. The sky was a clear blue, dotted with fluffy clouds, and the air was filled with the sweet perfume of flowers and the crisp and salty scent of the sea.

“I heard that you got married” she began gently as she chose her words with care. She watched Helaena closely, noticing the way her serene expression flickered for a brief moment, a fleeting shadow crossing her face. It was a subtle change, almost imperceptible, but it revealed melancholy. A pang of guilt quickly followed, realizing she had touched a delicate subject. “I apologize, I did not intend to…”

“It is quite alright, do not fret” Helaena raised a hand to reassure her, a gesture filled with understanding that eased her discomfort. “This marriage may not have been what any of us would have wished for, but some things simply must be.”

She nodded, feeling a small ache as she saw the resignation in her aunt’s blue eyes, those that used to shine with such pure light and now seemed to have lost some of their sparkle. “He may not be the greatest husband, but he is a good brother” she added, offering a faint smile. Her words were an attempt at comfort, though she knew they carried a weight, an acknowledgment of the complexities and compromises Helaena had to endure.

She found herself wondering how much she had sacrificed, how many dreams had been set aside for the sake of duty.

“And are you happy here?” she asked, hoping to delve into Helaena’s feelings, into that deep well of emotions her aunt had always carried with her. There was something in her expression, a latent sadness, a yearning for something more that she couldn’t ignore.

Helaena paused, gazing into the distance before she spoke. “Happiness is a curious thing,” she said with a wistful tone, “sometimes it hides in the most unexpected places. I believe I have discovered a peace here that I did not foresee, though it is not what one might imagine.”

She felt admiration and sadness as she listened, recognizing the strength it took to find peace in less-than-ideal circumstances. “That can be a form of happiness” she offered gently, aiming to convey her understanding. “It may differ, but it is nonetheless genuine.”

Helaena smiled softly. “Indeed” she agreed. “It is a gift in itself, and I have learned to cherish it.”

She nodded slowly. She knew her aunt had always had a special connection to the world, a perception that transcended the visible, touching the mystical, the ineffable, and that what she had found was not resignation but a deep acceptance of her place in the grand scheme of things.

“And how has time treated you?” Helaena asked.

She swallowed, aware of the subtext in her own response. “Time can be relentless, yet it is also revealing” she said, with a tone that tried to remain neutral. “However, Dragonstone has truly brought me joy and transformed me.” A faint smile touched her lips as she allowed herself to reflect on the place she had come to love. “I hope you might visit someday; Aegon’s garden is as beautiful as they say. Perhaps less vibrant than this, but just as lovely. There are blueberry trees and numerous pines” she added.

Helaena nodded, her eyes shining. “Yes, I do like it very much” she said.

She cleared her throat, as if preparing to pose a question whose weight could change the course of the conversation. “How has he been?” she finally asked, her voice dropping to a whisper, almost as if fearing that the wind might carry her question away before receiving an answer.

“My dear brother is quite hard to decipher” she responded. “He has merely been… simply existing.” She paused, then added, “I do believe your visit might prove beneficial for him.”

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it, a sound born of frustration and the nagging doubt that her presence could make any difference. Her expression twisted with sadness and cynicism, the weight of her feelings pressing down on her. “I am uncertain that my presence is what he requires” she muttered, the words tinged with a bitterness she hadn’t intended to show.

Helaena, however, only chuckled softly at her response, her gaze knowing. “You may be surprised” she said with a smile. “Sometimes, fate takes its toll on us in ways we cannot control” Helaena mused. “I am sure he wishes to speak with you.”

She knew that when Helaena spoke with certainty about the future, her words were more a revelation than a mere observation, so a spark of hope emerged within her.

The sea breeze gently caressed their faces as they continued walking through the gardens. The sound of waves breaking against the sand in the distance provided a soothing backdrop that accompanied their conversation.

“I recall when we used to play here” she said, her eyes sweeping over the landscape that had witnessed so many shared laughs and secrets. “We were so different then, so innocent.”

Helaena nodded. “Time alters us all… Yet, at times, I wonder if we truly change or if we merely uncover who we are meant to be.”

She furrowed her brow, pondering these words. “Perhaps that is the case” she murmured, more to herself than to Helaena, as if trying to unravel the hidden meaning behind that reflection. There was something in her aunt’s serenity that had always puzzled her, a kind of deep calm that contrasted with the turmoil that seemed to envelop the rest of the world.

“So, Silverwing” Helaena said suddenly, smiling with a glint of complicity in her face. She smiled at the simple mention.

“It was magnificent, Helaena” she said, filled with emotion. “I feel as though all the years I awaited have finally borne fruit.”

“I knew it would come to you,” Helaena said softly. “It was destined to be.” She lowered her gaze, her voice descending. “I did see a story repeating” she murmured. “The connection between you and her is deeper than you imagine, and your destiny is tied to hers in ways we do not yet understand.”

The words lingered in the air, imbued with mystery, as if the future was traced on an invisible line only she could see.

She fell silent, immersed in the depth of what she had just heard. The sensation of standing on the edge of a premonition, of knowing that something was coming but being unable to see it clearly, was both intriguing and unsettling. Her mind raced with possibilities, questions, and the fear of the unknown. With a nervous laugh that barely masked her growing unease, she asked, “Should I be fearful?”

Helaena’s expression softened, her lips parting to speak, but before she could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the fragile moment. A maid appeared before them, and with a respectful bow, informed them that Rhaenyra was awaiting her presence.

She nodded, thanking the maid with a faint smile. She turned to Helaena, who said, “It appears that duty always beckons.”

“Shall I accompany you back to your chambers?” she asked, hoping to prolong their time together, even if only for a few more minutes. There was so much left unsaid.

“I would prefer to stay here a little longer” Helaena replied softly, almost dreamy.

She nodded again, though her mind remained tangled. As she headed toward the exit of the gardens, her steps grew slower, and before crossing the threshold back to the castle, she turned once more to look at Helaena. There, standing among the flowers and the murmurs of the garden, Helaena with her enigma and wisdom seemed to hold answers to questions she hadn’t yet fully formed.

As she stood there, torn between staying and leaving, a flicker of movement caught her eye. From one of the nearby galleries, she saw Jacaerys making his way toward the garden. A spark of intrigue ignited within her at the sight of her brother, his presence unexpected.

She watched him for a brief moment, curiosity mingling with a sense of foreboding. With questions swirling in her mind, she finally turned away, continuing on her way.

After a quiet dinner with her family, she retired to her room. Although the bath was meant to be a refuge of calm, it did little to soothe her agitated mind; the words continued to echo in her head like an unrelenting echo.

Once in bed, frustration took hold of her, marking every line of her face with the hardness of unease. Uncertainty gnawed at her inside. Why would he want to talk to her? After years of cold silence, after so many unanswered letters and desperate pleas, what could he possibly have to say?

She wrestled with the idea of seeking him out. Why should she be the one to make the first move when he had maintained such a cruel distance? She recalled how that very morning, during breakfast, he had shown not the slightest indication of wanting to address her, and that indifference had felt like a calculated insult, intensifying the raw edge of her anger.

The annoyance turned into an oppressive presence. She felt trapped in a cruel paradox: cast aside and yet irresistibly drawn to him. She closed her eyes, grumbling. Worse still, memories began to flood her, each one more painful than the last. Everything about him was etched into her being in an indelible way, and yet, he remained an enigma, a question without an answer.

It was tormenting to dream of the delicate act of brushing his long, silken hair; distressing to aspire to feel the softness of his skin under her fingers; exasperating to imagine being close enough to trace the features that the years had added and molded on his face; unbearable to visualize his imposing presence beside her, and maddening to fantasize about kissing the lips she once knew.

Would it be enough to stand on tiptoe to reach him, or would he have to bend down as well to close their distance? Would his mouth still hold the same sweetness it had that night? Would she still melt under the heat of his proximity with the same intensity?

Then more demoralizing questions arose: Would she still be the only one whose arrival softened his gaze with relief and illuminated it with joy? Would she still be the only one he allowed himself to show his true vulnerability to, the only refuge for his battered soul?

Each memory, each fantasy, was an echo of what had been and what could have been, both a comfort and a torment. Resignation and hope intertwined within her, each struggling to dominate the other, leaving her at an emotional crossroads. The battle between the desire to forget him and the longing to reclaim him was so intense that it offered no peace.

She wanted to hate him for what he had caused her, for the endless nights of loneliness and tears shed in his name. She wanted to hate him for the agony of waiting for a sign that never came, for the affection that remained alive despite the pain. Yet, despite her resolve, she could not. Her soul, bruised and defenseless, could not harbor that hatred.

“Fuck” she cursed under her breath, burying her face in the pillow as if she could smother everything within her. But it was futile; every emotion refused to be silenced, every memory clung tightly to her soul.

Finally, unable to bear the pressure in her chest any longer, she got out of bed with a nearly frantic impulse. She needed to see him, and needed answers. She hastily dressed, her determined hands slipping into a silk robe that barely covered her attire, and took a candle to light her way.

She left her room, traversing the hallways she had long abandoned. Each step echoed in the night’s silence, and her thoughts raced uncontrollably, driven by an uncontainable longing. She didn’t know what she would find at the end of this path, but something inside her urged her to keep going, to face whatever awaited her in the darkness.

With each step, she questioned her decision, but then she saw him. There, approaching her. The dim light of the candle barely illuminated his features, but she didn’t need more to recognize him. They both stood frozen, staring at each other, each trapped in their own thoughts.

She wondered if he was there for her, if he had felt the same impulse, or if their meeting was merely a coincidence. Before he could confirm the latter, her lips moved forward, and though her voice tried to remain steady, a subtle tremor betrayed her nerves.

“I wished to speak with you” she said, her words hanging in the air, a tentative bridge between the two of them, each waiting for the other to cross it. “Shall we go to your chambers?”

He nodded, and though the dimness made it hard to read his expression, the surprise was evident in the tension of his posture, in the way his shoulders lifted slightly.

He walked silently beside her, guiding her to his room. The space had remained untouched, as if the years had not left their mark. Everything was in place, meticulously ordered.

She set the candle on the bedside table, and with an instinctive gesture, her gaze landed on a sapphire resting in the same spot as the one she had gifted him so many years ago. This one was smaller, less imposing, yet its presence in that familiar place pierced her core in a way she hadn't anticipated. A dull ache pierced her chest.

Without saying a word, she walked to the window, seeking the fresh air that seemed just beyond the glass. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her irregular breathing, but the words slipped from her lips before she could stop them.

“Why?” The word cut through the air like a knife, sharpened by years of pain, unrequited love, and accumulated fear that had festered in silence. She turned on her heels to face him, her voice trembling with the intensity of what she felt. At that moment, more than ever, she needed the truth.

Why had he ignored her for so long? What invisible force had kept him away, preventing him from responding, from seeking her, even once?

She wasn't sure what answer she was yearning for. Perhaps finding comfort in the notion that he hadn’t cared as much as she had; though such a revelation might break her heart again, it would at least allow her to turn away and bury those fragile hopes that kept her on edge.

Finally, in a grave and almost muted whisper, he said: “Why what?” Hearing him again made her pulse race.

“Why did you never come to see me?” she asked, her composure wavering, barely upheld by the strength of her resolve.

The silence that followed was unbearable. He looked at her, his eye reflecting a storm of emotions, but his lips remained sealed, as if the answers were trapped in his throat, unable to escape. His mouth opened and closed several times, making no sound, as if the weight of the truth was too heavy to bear.

“I did not know if you wished for my presence” he finally responded, so simple that it seemed almost insulting, only deepening her disbelief.

“Is this some jest? I asked you so many times” she demanded with growing bitterness. “Did my letters mean so little to you that you did not even take the time to read them?” Her voice hardened, laden with a suppressed rage that had been wounding her for too long.

“What letters?” he asked, his confusion evident, etching across his face like a blank canvas, as if he couldn’t comprehend the words she spoke. The question seemed almost naive.

“The letters!” she exclaimed, feeling her short patience running thin with every passing second, “the ones I sent you” she added, stating the obvious. The urgency to clarify the situation was like an unstoppable force, driving her to speak, to bring to light what had remained hidden. “I thought we had something special. Did I imagine it?” She finally cracked. “I waited for so long, I wrote to you so many times, like a fool. I hoped… I hoped for a response, a visit, something to let me know you hadn’t forgotten me” she confessed, her emotions overflowing, raw and naked before him.

“You wrote me?” he asked, as if he needed to hear it once more to fully grasp the reality of her words.

She glared at him, her frustration boiling over. How could he be so cruel as to toy with her emotions? “Do not mock me” she snapped, turning her back on him in anger.

She felt his proximity, the radiance of his body like a magnet drawing her in, but she forced herself to look out the window, struggling to regain her composure. Then, his voice broke through, filled with a desperation that tugged at her heartstrings.

“I wrote to you as well, hundreds of times. I swear this to you, by all the gods” he said, pleading. There was something in his tone, an earnestness that made her hesitate. It sounded so genuine, so wounded, that she couldn’t simply dismiss it.

“I never received a single letter from you” she countered, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Nor did I. Not one. Had I received any, I would have come to you at once. You must believe me" he replied with pain, as if each word cost him dearly. “I thought you did not want to hear from me”

She studied him, trying to read the truth in his eyes, the shadow of anguish that seemed to cling to him. Despite the sincerity she sensed, a veil of doubt still loomed over her, casting a cold shadow over her. He had never deceived her before, and she had no reason to disbelieve him now, but the situation didn’t make sense.

“Why would I not?” she asked, distrustful. His shoulders rose in a gesture of ignorance, unable to offer a concrete answer. The confusion on his face reflected the internal chaos they shared.

Then, a possibility emerged in her mind. What if he was telling the truth? What if the years of separation were not due to their own actions, but to some malevolent force that had kept them apart? The idea was both terrifying and liberating, but she still couldn’t fully accept it.

She shook her head, her mind spinning in a whirlwind of contradictory thoughts. She began to pace nervously around the room, searching for answers in the air. Her steps were quick, uneven, as her mind tried to process what she was hearing. The room felt smaller, as if the walls were closing in. After several minutes of internal struggle, she halted abruptly and turned to face him. He stood still, his gaze fixed on her.

“Are you not upset about this?” she asked, skepticism still marking her tone. If all of this was true, then the situation was even more perplexing, almost impossible to comprehend.

He looked at her intently, his eye piercing through all her barriers, touching her very soul. “I cannot find it within myself to be angry at this moment, not when you are here before me once more” he whispered with a tenderness that seemed straight out of her wildest dreams. His words were heavy with a melancholic sincerity, as if every syllable was a tribute that carried the weight of the years they had been apart. Her own heartbeats began to quicken, almost painfully, resonating in her ears.

“I never stopped thinking about you, wondering why I never heard from you, missing you” he continued, cutting through the layers of her distrust. “I never wanted to lose you.”

The tears that had been threatening to appear pooled in her eyes, clouding her vision. “Is that true?” she asked, trembling. “Did you truly never stop thinking about me?”

He moved closer slowly, closing the distance between them with each step. “Never,” he confirmed, “not for a single second.” A small shiver ran down her spine as she heard him. The romantic words she had longed for so much, which had seemed like mere whispers in books and songs, were now manifesting in her reality, but it felt so surreal that surrendering to it seemed almost naive.

She bit her lower lip, struggling to maintain control, to not give in. She shook her head, avoiding his gaze, murmuring softly, “This is too much.”

With an air of quiet acceptance, he responded, “I understand. Take all the time you need.”

She turned away, still in shock, her mind unable to fully process what had just happened. Before she could think any further, she turned back and threw herself into his arms, her body acting on her deepest wants.

He, always so prepared for anything, took a step back, caught off guard by her sudden move. Feeling his heart racing, tears began to fall uncontrollably. The embrace was fierce, as if she could hold onto the fragments of their lost time and prevent them from slipping away like the letters they never received.

He held her close, gently resting his head on hers. The only sound in the room was her ragged breathing and the small sobs escaping from her throat, creating an intimate cocoon of shared vulnerability.

“I am sorry, I am sorry for everything” she whispered through her tears. She didn’t quite know the reason for the lament, perhaps for the love they had let slip away, or for the illusion she had created to justify his silence, which didn’t do justice to the boy she had loved. She closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the moment, allowing her emotions to overflow.

After a few minutes, she lifted her head to look at him. “What do we do now?” she asked, searching for a glimmer of direction, a way forward amidst the uncertainty.

He raised a hand to her face, gently wiping away the tears that fell, the hot contact on her skin causing a tingling sensation. “I won’t let us be separated again” he said with firm determination. “If you will allow me, I wish to mend what has been broken.”

He looked at her expectantly, searching for a sign of consent, and she nodded softly, accepting the offer. In that moment, she understood that, despite the time and distance, maybe, just maybe, they could find a way back to each other.

Time seemed to stand still, suspended in a heavy silence. Their gazes intertwined, merging in an instant that felt endless. Finally, she slowly pulled away from him, though his hands seemed reluctant to let her go. With her mind overwhelmed, she let out a deep sigh and turned toward the door.

He took the candle and opened the door. He went first, leading the way that she knew better. A small smile appeared on her lips.

Arriving at the door of her room, she pushed it open and entered, pausing to look back at him. He stayed a few inches behind, right at the threshold. “Take it” she said, pointing to the candle. He nodded with a small smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Good night” she added.

“Good night” he replied.

Before closing the door, she gathered her courage and planted a small kiss on his cheek. The contact, though brief, left him momentarily stunned. As the door clicked shut, she leaned against it, allowing herself a moment of solitude, letting out another deep sigh.

As the minutes passed and the echo of his footsteps faded in the hallway, she moved further into the room. She set aside her silk robe and collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. She buried her face in the pillow, stifling a cry of frustration and relief, letting the weight of the evening’s emotions pour out.

Dawn brought a new perspective and a soft light that had yet to filter through the window. She woke up with a sense of duality, both agitated and peaceful, her thoughts still tangled with the events of the previous night.

The revelation that her letters had never reached their recipient, that the words she had poured out with so much love and desperation had been lost in a void of no return, was a bittersweet blow.

It had been both reassuring and heart-wrenching at the same time, a truth that revealed much and, at the same time, very little. It had stolen her years of companionship but also showed her the resilience of a bond that seemed to defy distance and time.

She slowly sat up, the weight of emotions still fresh. Before she could finish getting ready, the door creaked open, and Lyra entered with a look of shock.

“Did you tumble from your bed?” she joked. “Are you well?” she asked, moving closer upon noticing her expression.

She took her friend's hand and gently guided her to the bed. Lyra sat beside her, her eyes filled with silent empathy.

“Has something happened?” Lyra pressed, shifting from playful to serious, and her brow furrowed more intensely.

“I visited his chambers last night” she said directly, without preamble. The reaction was immediate: her mouth fell slightly open.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Lyra asked, her voice rising with indignation. She made a gesture with her hand, signaling her to keep her tone down. “Why?” she repeated, more forcefully this time.

“I needed to speak with him” she replied. The expression on Lyra’s face turned into a blend of understanding and exasperation as she tilted her head, studying her. “You yourself suggested we needed to resolve matters” she justified, trying to validate her actions.

Lyra’s eyes narrowed slightly, a gesture of reprimand. “I did not intend for you to seek him out in his chamber in the middle of the night” she corrected, low and tense. “If someone were to find out…”

“Nothing happened, we merely conversed” she interrupted, trying to defuse the situation.

“But you are not children any longer” Lyra continued, concerned. “Such a visit would not be well seen, especially not for you.” She nodded, acknowledging the truth in those words. “Well, go on then, what did he say?” Lyra asked finally, her curiosity clearly overcoming her initial concern.

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “He claimed he never received my letters and that he had written to me” she replied, quoting his words. “It turns out, both of us were left waiting, each under the impression that the other had moved on.”

“How can that be?” Lyra inquired. “That is a great deal to process.” After a moment of reflection, she asked cautiously, in a barely perceptible whisper, squeezing her hands. “Do you believe him?”

“Yes, I do. Besides, what motive would he have to deceive me? If he had truly ignored my letters, he would have no reason to deny it.” She sighed before continuing. “Aemond can be unkind at times, but he has never been untrue.”

Lyra nodded, although doubt still lingered in her mind. “Do you think it could have been…?” she began, her tone dropping even further, as if fearing the words she was about to utter, hesitant to voice the suspicion.

“I do not believe so” she replied firmly. “This seems excessive, even for her.” Lyra looked at her skeptically, recalling past actions.

“For the woman who nearly harmed your mother?” Lyra asked, with an incredulous grimace. She bit her lip, knowing that a mother’s desperation can drive one to extreme measures, but she didn’t dismiss the idea entirely.

“But this situation does not solely affect me” she continued, with an intensity reflecting the complexity of the situation. “It affects him as well. And she cares for him deeply.”

“Precisely” Lyra agreed. “She would do whatever it takes to protect him.”

“Protect him from what?” she asked with confusion. The question hung in the air, and Lyra remained silent, without a clear answer.Then, finally spoke, thoughtful.

“She might have had reasons to keep him away from you, perhaps out of fear or misguided protection.”

She pondered, her mind racing with the possibilities. “But why? What could be so dire that it would justify such measures?”

“I do not know. But at least you have cleared the air now. What comes next?”

“I am not entirely sure” she admitted.

After a few minutes of silent reflection, a soft chuckle escaped Lyra’s lips, slowly building into a cascade of infectious giggles. The accumulated tension seemed to dissipate with that joyful sound. She looked at her, caught off guard by the sudden shift in mood.

“What is so amusing?” she asked.

Lyra tried to stifle her laughter, covering her mouth with her hand, but her eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam. “Ever since I arrived, I have been giving him the cold shoulder” she admitted between giggles. “The poor boy must be utterly baffled.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of a confused and helpless Aemond. “Do you think he noticed?” she asked, the smile still lingering on her lips.

“Most likely, I looked at him like he was the stranger himself.” Lyra replied, her laughter still bubbling up. “He must have wondered what on earth he did to earn such hostility.”

Their laughter intertwined, filling the room with a warm, rejuvenating energy, washing away the remnants of earlier worries.

“Thank you for always standing by my side” she said with genuine gratitude.

“Always” Lyra replied, her hand gently brushing against hers.

Before long, a soft, persistent knocking at the door interrupted their conversation. Lyra stood up and went to open it, revealing the small figure of her younger brother, peeking in with some shyness.

“I came to fetch you for breakfast” Joffrey said.

She smiled and rose from the bed, feeling a renewed sense of purpose as she got up. She approached him, taking his tiny hand tenderly, and let him lead her.

After breakfast, she enjoyed a leisurely stroll with Joffrey, their small conversation peppered with laughter. Later, they lost themselves in the depths of the library, where he became utterly captivated by the history of dragons, his curiosity leading to a flurry of questions that she eagerly answered, pleased to see his fascination.

As the day wore on, and she returned to her chambers, she began to feel the gentle pull of fatigue settling over her. With thoughts of a possible meeting lingering in her mind, she slipped off her shoes, intending to indulge in a brief nap. But just as she was about to surrender to the comfort of her bed, a series of gentle knocks interrupted her reverie. The sound was unusual, coming from the back door. A flutter of excitement stirred within her as she quickly made her way to the door.

When she opened it, she found him standing there, his expression showing relief. The sight of him brought an instant smile to her lips, one that he mirrored with a sincere, if slightly reserved, smile of his own. The mere sight of his face was a cure for her restless soul.

“My prince, it’s a pleasure to see you” she said, friendly.

“The pleasure is all mine, my princess” he responded carrying a touch of formality that didn’t quite mask the underlying nervousness. After a brief pause, he cleared his throat and added, with a hint of uncertainty, “I was wondering if you might grace me with your company for lunch.”

She looked at him, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through her. Her heart fluttered with anticipation. “Yes, I would like that. Shall we dine on the balconies?” she suggested, her tone light and inviting.

He hesitated, a flicker of unease crossing his features as his gaze shifted. “I was thinking… perhaps my chambers” he finally said, unsure whether his proposal would meet her expectations.

She raised her eyebrows in mock startelement, a playful glint as she teased, “Do you truly believe that to be appropriate?”

His composure faltered, and a faint blush crept up his neck. “No, of course not, you are right” he stammered, clearly flustered. “If the balconies are your preference, I can…” His voice faded into a murmur, the words trailing off into an insecure murmur.

She interrupted him with a light laugh, a melody that seemed to dissipate the tension in the air. “I was only jesting, let us be off.”

She turned away momentarily to slip her shoes back on, then returned to his side, his expression more relaxed. He offered his arm to her, and she took it gently, feeling the heat of the contact despite the leather suit he wore.

Together, they walked their way down the hall, the midday sun filtering through the narrow windows, bathing their faces in golden light that made the atmosphere feel even more intimate. They couldn’t help but steal furtive glances, trying to decipher each other’s thoughts.

Upon reaching his room, she was greeted by a scene of meticulous preparation. The table near the window was elegantly set, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. Every detail had been considered—the dishes arranged with care, the variety of delicacies laid out like a feast for the senses, all reflecting the thoughtfulness of someone who had taken great pains to create something special.

As they approached the table, he hurried to pull out a chair for her, a courteous gesture that brought a soft smile to her lips. “Thank you” she murmured as she settled into it.

He sat across from her, and as he did, the atmosphere seemed to soften, the initial tension giving way to a more comforting familiarity. “An entire army could feast on this” she teased, her gaze sweeping over the overflowing table. “Does no one find it strange that you requested so much food?” Her curiosity was laced with a hint of excitement, wondering if he had mentioned she was joining him.

He offered a shy smile, a quiet laugh escaping as he began serving the food. “I was unsure of your preferences” he admitted. “And no, I usually dine with my sister.” His voice held a note of apology that didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“I am sorry for the inconvenience to her” she said, with a slight disappointment, but acknowledging the thoughtfulness behind his gesture. The care he’d taken in preparing the lunch spoke volumes, revealing a sincere desire to share this moment with her.

“No such thing” he reassured, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. She understood the unspoken message—Helaena, no doubt, was already aware and understood.

As they began to serve themselves, the meal took on a significance beyond the food on their plates. Their conversation flowed easily, touching on lighthearted topics—books they had read, childhood memories that evoked shared laughter, recent events that bridged the gap of time they had spent apart. She noticed how his face brightened with each bite, relaxed. Yet, beneath their words, there was a palpable tension underlying it, a tacit acknowledgment that something important was about to be discussed.

When the meal drew to a close, a silence settled between them—not the awkward kind, but rather the type that felt like a collective breath, a pause before something of great importance. It was as if they were both gathering their thoughts, preparing for the conversation they both knew was inevitable. The room, now quieter, holding its breath alongside them, the air thick with anticipation as they hovered on the brink of a pivotal moment.

She stood up slowly, excusing herself before walking toward the window. Perching on its edge, she gazed out, lost in the endless expanse of the city below. After a brief pause, he followed, leaning against the wall beside her, close enough to share the view but leaving a respectful distance. “It seems like the city never rests” she whispered, barely louder than the soft hum of life outside. He followed her gaze, nodding in quiet agreement.

The silence between them grew deeper, as if the world itself had paused to allow them to find the right words. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Last night… I did not truly know what to say” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the ground as if searching for answers in the stones. His hands, usually so sure and steady, now betrayed him, fidgeting with a nervous energy that seemed out of place. “It was… too overwhelming.” She watched him, allowing him to find his own rhythm as he spoke, giving him space to organize his thoughts.

“I cannot help but feel that this is an opportunity the gods have placed before us” he continued, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips, a fragile flicker of hope igniting within him. “I know not if this is the right moment… or if there ever is a right moment” he added, his fingers scratching at the sensitive skin on the side of his nails.

Before his nervous hands could inflict harm, she reached out, gently enclosing them within her own, her fingers wrapping around his in a tender, reassuring embrace. Under her comforting touch, his anxiety slowly faded. She drew him closer, making him sit beside her, their faces now almost at the same level.

He looked out toward the horizon. “I know I promised you time last night… and if that is what you require, I shall honor it” he murmured. “We can start anew… rediscover who we are now. But I feel that, no matter how much we have changed, deep within… we are still ourselves. And I have spent too many days regretting the words I never spoke, the chances I did not seize.”

He turned his gaze from the horizon back to her. “And if there is one thing of which I am certain, it is what I feel for you” he whispered, raw with emotion.

She met his gaze, her curiosity flickering, the unspoken need to hear the words that had yet to cross his lips. “And what, pray tell, do you feel for me?” she asked softly, aching to uncover the depths of him.

He inched a little closer, his eye locking onto hers with a fierce intensity that seemed to draw in all the light around them and steal her breath away. “A force that compels me to search for you in every corner of my soul, the reason my days feel hollow and incomplete if you are not in them" he said, letting the weight of his feelings settle between them like a fragile, precious thing. "Without you, I am but a dragon without fire, a mere shadow of what I could be… with you by my side”

She stared at him, paralyzed by the beauty of his words, unable to find her voice. The seconds stretched out, feeling like an eternity until he, with a tone laced with vulnerability, asked, “And you, do you feel the same about me?”

A pang of remorse pierced her chest for making him wait and for the doubt she had created in him. “Yes, I do” she answered with the undeniable truth.

He sighed, relief and hope lighting up his face. “I believe we must tread cautiously, at least for a time” he said. “There is still one who does not wish to see us united. If we keep this between us, it will be easier to protect what we share.”

She nodded, caught in a tug-of-war between the desire to proclaim their love to the world and the understanding of his wish for caution. While every fiber of her being longed to declare their victory over the obstacles that had stood in their way, she knew there was wisdom in his words.

“I have missed you” he confessed so soft it was almost swallowed by the quiet of the room.

“And I you” she replied, “dearly”

He looked at her with a tenderness that made her heart swell, then the space between them seemed to dissolve as their hands remained clasped. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against hers. “Would you like to spend the rest of the afternoon with me?” he asked, his tone gentle and inviting.

@helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers @callsignwidow @scarletbedlam @fics-i-love-and-recommend @squidscottjeans @truly-abysmal @fossface @congenialcopycat @that-girl-named-alex @oh-you-mean-me

now it's going to start the good part i promise! besitos.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond

159 notes · View notes

piastree · 10 months ago

Text

Take a Chance with Me | OP81

oscar piastri x reader (fc: huh yunjin)

— Part 3

Previous Part Next Part

Summary : They are a couple caught in the chaos of a love filled with randomness and quirks. Their relationship is marked by funny and unpredictable moments, where each day feels like a new adventure. Despite frequently engaging in amusing and spirited bickering, beneath the banter lies a deep and meaningful romance. Disclamer: This is a story created for fun without any hate towards anyone. This work exists in a realm separate from the original canon. Characters may be divergent from their established personas. So, just enjoy the rollercoaster ride.

f1updates

liked by user1, user2, and 95,390 others

f1updates spotted chart-topping sensation Sierra Turner hanging out in the McLaren garage at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Having a blast and sharing some race-day tales with the McLaren driver, Oscar Piastri!

view comments

user hold up, sierra turner in the mclaren garage?! this race just got a whole lot more interesting

user sierra always bringing the good vibes wherever she goes! McLaren garage just got a major upgrade<3

user y/n, better keep an eye on your man

user lmao y/n's the one catching all his attention

user OMG, sierra talked with oscar??? my two worlds collided

user this is what dreams are made of! sierra, lando, and oscar, the dynamic trio we didn't know we needed

sierraturner

tagged oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren

liked by landonorris, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 505,397 others

sierraturner this was all one day. Thankyou for having me❤️ @/mclaren

view comments

user SOO GORGEOUSSS

user sierra turning the race into a concert❤️

mclaren thankyou for coming, Sierra!🧡

sierraturner the pleasure is mine! I'm truly looking forward to another invitation

user sierra interaction with landoooo?? I LIVE FOR THIS

user whoa mclaren garage is filled with beautiful women!! imagine 2 gorgeous women y/n and sierra at the same place

landonorris great to see you here! Thanks for coming to the race

sierraturner looking forward to the next year races!

user is someone notice she seems to be getting cozy in Oscar's garage???👀

user i think u should stop overanalyze ://

message

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, mclaren, sierraturner and 174,041 others

oscarpiastri Last day of term completed. Podiums, a sprint win and your 🧡 made 2023 awesome. Big thanks to all the papaya crew

view comments

quadlock incredible year! So proud to be on this journey with you 💙

ausgp What a first season! You’ve done Australia incredibly proud, mate! 🇦🇺🧡

user our rookie is no longer a rookie

user Good job lad, you proved all the haters wrong 🧡

sierraturner congratulations on an amazing first season 🧡

user wow have you officially become his fan?

sierraturner yes, no doubt

user it's time for you to move @/yourusername

yourusername added a story

Congratulations on completing your rookie season! Proud is an understatement❤️

oscarpiastri you know i love u right yourusername i know❤️

twitter

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, landonorris, sierraturner and 75,407 others

yourusername me n my girlies

view comments

user please let me be part of the group

user can i be one of your girlies…. or perhaps your only girl….. by that i mean your girlfriend and wife i will treat you right buy you flowers and make you breakfast every day my queen

yourusername oh, you're sweet. Lucky for me, i've already got a wonderful guy who showers me with love, flowers, and foods. But i'll remember your offer in case i need a backup🤗

oscarpiastri no need for backups here and definitely no substitutes allowed, mate🙄

yourusername possesive😩

user LMAOOO Y/N never crossed my mind seeing the two of them bickering on comment section

yourbff let's schedule another round!

oscarpiastri she's already booked

yourbff possesive much?😌

oscarpiastri i'm just scared you won't bring y/n back in one piece

yourusername silly hahaha

user Hold up, sierra liked y/n's post? Is this a friendly vibe or a hidden agenda?

user plot twist in the making

lovingwags

liked by f1updateswags, user, and 25,477 others

lovingwags the street is buzzing with rumors of Sierra trying to get Oscar's attention, stirring up tension with y/n. Whose team are you on??

view comments

user why are we even comparing and picking sides when oscar is clearly with y/n? let's respect their relationship u weirdo

user sierra and oscar would make such a lovely couple<3

user can't we just focus on supporting each other??

user dear y/n please just leave oscar for sierra

user you are so sick🤮

user lmaoo stop making unnecessary drama😭

user sierra definitely >>>>> y/n LIKE SIERRA HAS IT ALL — THE TALENTS, FAME, AND LITERALLY EVERYTHINGGG

twitter

f1wagsupdate

liked by lovingwags, user and 45,454 others

f1wagsupdates y/n is currently enjoying a christmas holiday in Oscar's hometown. A heartwarming videos captured her sheer joy while playing with Oscar's nieces. Credit to @/blahblah

view comments

user y/n looks so happy spending time with Oscar's family in Australia! What a heartwarming sight🥺❤️

user while the rumor mill is working overtime between them, y/n stays unbothered too busy being happy to get caught up in the drama

user no wonder they've been MIA since the winter break kicked in. Enjoy the holiday, you two!

user can we talk about how absolutely stunning and genuine y/n looks in this video?

user her beauty shines so effortlessly in this video. Oscar is so lucky😭😭

oscarpiastri

tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, sierraturner, and 75,407 others

oscarpiastri exploring the town with my favorite dork

user did you just take a break from the track for a romantic getaway in Japan??? wow

user the cutest couple in the paddock<3

user the 5th photo is so cute because she seemed confused loll

user probably because she thought oscar was behind her, and then it hit her like, 'Oh, Oscar's still up there'😂

mclaren enjoy the off season, Oscar & y/n!

user admin is absolutely rooting for both of them🧡

user seated for oscar & y/n's honeymoon phase

user the unbothered queen & king❤️

Notes: Btw, I'm planning to create more parts for this AU, so if you enjoy reading it, you can look forward to some new chapters ahead. Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. Thankyouuuu

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri au #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #oscar piastri smau

410 notes · View notes

dark-and-kawaii · 6 months ago

Text

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ They Take As They Please ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Haarlep - Halsin - Zevlor - Raphael

Dark Content

↳ Haarlep, but their hand is holding your neck down, their other grabbing your face as they lean down further to bury their nose in the crook of your neck. Haarlep's hot breath tickling your skin, their nose pressing against you, inhaling your scent with a sick hunger. Their slick tongue gliding along the surface of your sweat drenched skin, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake. A guttural groan escapes Haarlep's throat as they withdraw their mouth, “Don't stop now, my little pet,” they continue to taunt, their voice filled with sadistic delight, “Be a good thing and keep begging for me, beg like the obedient puppy you are.” You had no strength left to fight, no will to escape. Your tears stained the ground, your breath hot and labored, your body yearning for water, for Raphael to wisk you away... Slowly, you were withering away, your spirit broken, your hope shattered. You knew Haarlep and that bastard arch devil, Mephistopheles would keep you alive… You’d have to endure looking at Raphael's shell for the rest of your remaining life...

↳ Halsin, but it's him biting into your neck. His teeth sunk deep into your flesh to hold you to him, your blood pouring out against his lips, your hips squirming against his cock as he takes his fill. Your mind fuzzy, your whimpers falling on deaf ears. The pleasure of his bite fading, replaced with an aching pain. Your pussy not much better, over stuffed, sore, the blood from it mixing with his seed that seeps out from you. You were a sacrifice to his appetite, you've realized this now. His bruising fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, his thrusts hard against you, his seed painting your walls white and spilling into your womb yet again... He is not a god, not a man, but a beast. A beast that won't stop until your stomach is round with his child, that is when his appetite will finally be satisfied.

↳ Zevlor, but he's a traitor and has you pinned beneath him. The sharp end of his tail creeping up your shirt only to rip it open, exposing your bare chest. “The others will never believe you, that their reluctant leader Zevlor could do such a thing. Now keep quiet and I won't leave a scratch on you." He lines his thick, infernal, ridged cock at your entrance, the tip teasing your damp folds before forcefully sheathing himself fully inside you. His hands grasping your hips as he pounds you into the dirt, his hot breath tickling your ear as his body pins yours to the ground. His grunts and growls are all you can hear, and you try so hard to bite back a scream as his ridges rub against your inner walls. But when he wraps his tail around you and drags you further down onto his cock you cry out as it begins to collide with your cervix, knocking against it begging for entrance into your womb.

↳ Raphael, but it's him choking you unconscious. His large Cambion hands wrapped around your delicate throat as his cock thrusts inside you. You're nothing more than his little mouse, his plaything, he'll do as he pleases to you for his own pleasure. When he laughs at the state you're in that's when you feel his tail start to slide deep within your bowls, your tight little hole, your poor ass, stretching to accommodate the foreign appendage. You can feel it slithering up, deeper and deeper until your stomach starts to bulge with the shape of it, and all you can do is beg him to stop as your voice cracks, and the room spins around you. You can only see his smile as he continues, your voice only an echo in the void of darkness as the world fades away. “Such a pitiful creature.”

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #haarlep #bg3 raphael #baldurs gate #Halsin #halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin #Zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 Zevlor #haarlep bg3 #tw noncon

237 notes · View notes

keimunnn · 5 months ago

Note

i have an amazing korra request… so it’s book 3 right and she had just finished meeting with the earth queen who as always pissed her off and she comes back and fucks the reader out of anger right, and Gun comes in the room to tell her something and korra doesn’t even stop like she’s just glaring at him to get him out and continues to do her shit.

woah woah, i love me some angry sex ajsbsjshjs OKAY! it's been a while anyway, i've been busy so i hope this would suffice my absence!

let your anger out

KORRA + F!READER

warnings: nsfw (18+) — angry sex (kind of?), korra uses your mouth as she pleases, gagging, use of strap (water strap hehe), hair pulling, she's just pretty much pissed and takes it out on you, she takes care of you afterwards obviously, lower case intended

•

"i swear that earth queen was using me like i'm some kind of servant. i'm the avatar, for crying out loud!"

you guys stayed for some time at the earth kingdom to fetch some air benders that were reported to be in the area. it was fine at first, but the way the earth queen decided to use korra to do something for her, and for korra to recieve nothing in return just fueled her anger—even when her and asami had to fight off some men because of it.

you didn't think she'd come stomping inside the building you guys were staying in for a bit, striding straight to an empty bathroom with her hands around your wrist to drag you both inside. she forgot to lock it up right after the two of you entered, immediately kissing you like her life depended on it.

and now, the both of you were right at the counter of the bathroom sink, a mirror right behind the avatar—her back leaned against it as she sat on the counter, and your head buried into her entrance. her hand dragged your head between her toned thighs, digging you down as you ate her out, trying to relieve the anger inside her.

"yeah, that's it..." korra groaned out, satisfied as she pulled your hair, lifting your head up from her thighs. she scanned your face that looked erotic with her essence all over your lips, before kissing you animalistically.

it's been a while since you've both done it—i mean, korra's been tending to her avatar duties after all, while you worked with asami as an engineer. you didn't mind how rough she was though, you've practically been craving her but didn't know how to bring it up.

"... wanna fuck you so good."

you let out a low yelp as she got off the counter and put you in her place, turning the sink on as she spread your legs, ripping your panties off in an instant. she could see how wet and inviting you were, clenching over nothing. korra laughed at the sight, her thick fingers rubbing against your pussy lips like a hungry woman in heat, her other hand busying itself with water bending the liquid from the sink, shaping it up like how she usually did—turning it into a strap.

yes, she's done it before, so it wasn't exactly foreign to her techniques with how she had easily turned water into solid. well, not completely icy solid though, it had a little softness to it so she wouldn't hurt you by the time she penetrates you fully. moving her hands around, she angles the water strap on her own core and sliding the length over your folds.

korra lets out a groan, feeling you through her strap from her bending. she folds you to your chest, knees pressed up against your tits as she prepared herself to enter you with her usual crooked grin on her face, her eyes radiated the lust in them.

slowly, she inserts herself, leveling the tip inside as she watches your face let out the sexiest expression ever. she pulls the tip out, before going back in, pushing deeper and deeper now. you drooled at the sight, seeing her enter you once more after months. your hands grabbed at the edges of the counter, feeling korra pull out again before slamming herself back inside, moaning as her hips collided with yours in a delicious way.

"spirits, i wanna... fuck, wanna fill you up."

you leaned your back against the counter, feeling yourself move back in forth in sync with the avatar's movements. at this point, the both of you didn't care if someone had heard your cries and moans inside the bathroom. you were getting slammed so hard on that counter, you practically thought she'd destroy you by now.

korra's hips went into a frenzy, pushing in and out in an inhumane pace, you thought she'd get tired—but no, she even went as far as to drag you more into the edge, your ass practically in the air as she had your legs over her shoulders, slamming into you even harder at the angle.

the sound of the doorknob twisting and turning made korra look at the mirror's reflection, sending a glare at whoever was interrupting the session albeit the two of you being loud. gun, the grand secretariat of the earth queen, steps a bit into the gap of the bathroom door and enters halfway;

"avatar korra, i couldn't help but ask around with where you were. i have some inform—"

the old man pauses, seeing as korra continuously slammed into you as she glared at gun for the inconvenience. you didn't notice though, your eyes were closed shut from the pleasure and euphoria you felt, korra wasn't stopping with her movements. gun excuses himself to her before closing the door back in place. the avatar reaches a hand out to lock the door now, but didn't pause her pace at all.

i'll remember to lock the door from now on, she mentally noted.

the avatar glances back at the mirror behind you on the sink, watching herself practically going crazy with her thrusts. she lets out a low chuckle, one of her hands held onto your thigh and the other on your hip, fucking you in place. she was even impressed you didn't realize someone witnessed you getting dicked down by her at all.

"fucking annoying."

although it wasn't directed to you, you felt your stomach churn in a good way. you whimpered in response, a hand over your mouth as you moaned aloud, your eyes shut. korra was definitely mad. she's going hard on you like never before. you were holding onto the edges of the counter for dear life as you cried out.

"nnngh...!" you felt like a bomb of ecstasy was about to explode inside you, feeling the nearing release that was about to happen as korra's cock was rubbing against your gummy walls nonstop. your eyes glanced down at where you were both connected, licking your lips as you watched korra's abs flex everytime she smashed herself into you aggressively.

just then, you were even turned on from the sight, letting yourself come undone underneath her as she continued her ministrations, pushing even deeper before the avatar came herself, finishing up with a couple more thrusts before pulling out completely. she watched as some water from her strap dripped out of your cunt, making her pant and gulp at the sight—your hole eagerly spilled water out, making her mouth dry.

"fuck."

muscular hands lifted you up, before placing you to the ground, on your knees. korra strokes her water cock, her hand sliding up and down as she looked down at you, completely at her mercy. she smacks the strap onto your panting lips, before entering in, letting you consume it whole.

you gagged a bit when she reached the back of your throat, her hand behind your head with her fingers through the strands of your hair. korra admired the sight for a bit longer, before thrusting into your warm cavern slowly and sensually, driving you insane. you hollowed your cheeks, taking in the length. your hands traveled right behind her toned thighs, holding on for balance as you took her in your mouth.

"you're so pretty like this." korra praises you, her hips continuing to move in a slow pace before she increases it. she holds your head in place with both hands, fucking into your mouth as she felt the sensations through her own strap. she let out another groan when you moaned into her cock, the vibrations sending shivers in her body.

"feel s' good." she moaned, closing up to her release again before her hips twitched into your mouth, pulling out from your lips with a 'pop!' and watched as you panted heavily. she lets go of your head and pulled you gently up to her, hugging you tightly as she took the strap off and let it liquify back into the sink's drain.

korra pushes you to the counter, lifting you to sit down on the edge, caressing your hips with a gentle look in her eyes.

"did i go too rough on you?" you shook your head in reassurance, smiling up at her once you've calmed down. you wrap your arms and legs around her, sighing in content. korra only chuckled at how you clung onto her, rubbing a hand to your back soothingly.

"i wouldn't mind you going rough on me again."

•

sorry it's been a while, i've been pretty busy oops :,) this was kind of rushed honestly, i'll probably edit it soon! and oh my god i've been obsessing over mizu (bes) for some time, but i don't think i'll make a fic of her sadly. i just love strong women honestly.

#legend of korra x reader #korra x reader #korra smut #the legend of korra #tlok #tlok korra #tlok x reader #kuvira x reader #kuvira #avatar korra #legend of korra #wlw #kuvira smut #avatar x reader #avatar: tlok #avatar korra x reader

176 notes · View notes