#leaving this here and coming back to my notes

[russellsppttemplates]

I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)

People seem to forget you're dating Oscar

Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: jealous themes

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.

"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.

"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.

"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.

"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.

"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.

As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.

"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.

"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.

"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.

Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.

"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.

"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.

"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.

You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.

When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.

"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.

Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.

"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.

"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.

"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.

"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".

Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.

"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.

"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.

"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".

"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.

"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.

"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.

.

"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".

"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.

"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".

Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.

Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.

By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.

You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.

Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match

I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together

She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother

Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend

I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver

Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship

She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her

She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?

These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that

The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.

The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.

"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.

"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.

"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.

"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.

"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.

"Yes!", you answered loudly.

"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.

"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".

"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.

"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".

Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.

"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.

"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.

"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.

"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.

"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.

"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.

"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.

"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.

"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".

Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".

The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.

"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.

"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.

"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.

[vanteguccir]

Roslyn | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where a storm is happening and Y/N is afraid of thunder, making her seek comfort in her best friend's brother arms, Matt.

Warning: Thunderstorm.

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.

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Nick's room was a welcoming haven for Y/N. The walls decorated with frames and posters and the rustic wooden furniture provided a feeling of security and comfort. She had spent countless nights there, in his soft, cozy bed, surrounded by the familiarity of her best friend.

However, that night, the tranquil atmosphere was abruptly interrupted by the distant roar of thunder. Y/N curled up under the sheets, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She has always been afraid of storms, ever since she was a child. The thunderous sound of thunder and the flashes of lightning in the black sky left her petrified with fear.

With each thunderclap, she could feel the anxiety building up inside her, squeezing her heart like an iron fist. Her body shook involuntarily, and she struggled to control her rapid breathing. The feeling of helplessness overwhelmed her, leaving her unable to move, as if she were trapped in an endless nightmare.

Y/N knew she needed to calm down. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the frightening sound echoing through the top floor window. The girl took a deep breath, trying to find some inner peace, but fear continued to envelop her like a relentless shadow.

Deciding to seek comfort, Y/N reached out into the darkness, searching the comforting warmth of the boy beside her. She tried to shake him gently, whispering his name in an urgent tone. However, Nick remained motionless and sunk into a deep sleep, only a light mumble escaping his throat.

Frustration and despair began to build within her. She couldn't face this storm alone. The girl tried to curl up against his back, but her body exposed to the room had no effect in calming her down, Nick remaining oblivious to her silent call, lost in distant dreams.

Y/N bit her bottom lip, fighting back the tears of frustration that threatened to spill over. She felt so small and powerless in the face of the force of nature outside. The sound of thunder seemed to grow louder, echoing in her mind like a relentless reminder of her vulnerability.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N got up from the bed, determined to get help. She knew exactly where to go.

Sneaking out the white door and down the stairs, careful not to make any loud sound, Y/N arrived at Matt's bedroom door, knocking softly on the wooden surface. She waited for a moment, her heart beating nervously in her chest as her right leg bounced incessantly in anxiety until she finally heard a sleepy murmur coming from inside the room.

The door slowly opened, revealing Matt's silhouette on the threshold. His eyes were downcast and sleepy, his brow furrowed in confusion and anger at being woken up, but his expression immediately brightened upon seeing Y/N standing there.

"Y/N, hey, what are you doing here? Are you okay?" Matt asked, his voice soft and concerned as his eyes took in the way her body was shaking.

Y/N swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape. She moved slightly closer to Matt, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, seeking the comfort she so desperately needed.

"I... I can't sleep with this storm, Matt. I'm so scared, and Nick won't wake up." The girl confessed in a shaky whisper, her chest burning with embarrassment for waking him up with something so... trivial. "I'm sorry for-"

Without hesitation, Matt wrapped Y/N in a comforting hug, interrupting her sentence while pulling her closer and holding her firmly against his chest, his arms wrapping around her shoulders with just the right amount of strength. He could feel the tremors that ran through her body, almost sensing the palpable fear that consumed her insides.

"It's okay, sweet girl. I'm here now." Matt whispered, gently stroking the girl's hair with his right hand. His presence was like a balm to Y/N's grief-stricken soul, slowly dispelling the shadows of her fear. "Come on."

The boy took a few steps back, eventually pulling her along before slowly closing the door. He kept his left arm firmly around her shoulders as he straightened his posture, beginning his slow steps towards his unmade bed.

With his free hand, the brunette pulled the duvet down before gently guiding Y/N to the mattress, helping her lie down on the side he didn't sleep on. He adjusted the strands of her loose hair so that they were not on her face, watching her eyes blink slowly in sleep, her eyelashes trembling with each thunderclap.

Matt quickly walked over to his own side of the bed, laying down on the still warm surface, right where he was previously lying, before pulling the duvet up, tucking it tightly around Y/N's body so that not a piece of her skin covered by thin pajamas would be exposed to the freezing air.

He laid down on his side and rested his head on his pillow, extending his left arm - which was against the mattress - and, with his free hand, gently pulled Y/N, encouraging her to get closer. The girl quickly got the message, pressing her cold body against Matt's warm one and laying her head on his outstretched bicep, her legs shrinking and her knees pressing against the boy's abdomen, a sigh of relief escaping her nose almost instantly.

Matt encircled her torso with his right arm, bringing her closer - if that was possible - and lowering his face, sealing Y/N's forehead with his lips tenderly, conveying a sense of safety and protection that she so desperately craved. The brunette caressed the warm skin of her face with the tip of his nose gently, whispering small words of affection and reassurance, muffling the sound of thunder against Y/N's ears while his hands caressed the back of her shoulders.

As the night progressed, Y/N gradually felt calmer and more serene in Matt's arms. The sound of thunder still echoed in the distance, but now she was no longer alone.

"Thank you, Matty." Her voice, now sleepy and low, came out of her mouth in a whisper, her eyes gradually closing as the sound of slow breathing and rhythmic heartbeats that echoed from the his larger body acted as a natural tranquilizer for her.

"Anything for you, petal."

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My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ 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 @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

[lewisvinga]

ariel ! | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary; in which charles leclerc gets the real life version of his favorite disney princess

fc; halle bailey

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; my requests are closed. requested ! icl i was a bit confused w this so i tried my best !

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and others !

charles_leclerc: ariel! my ariel!

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: THE FIRST PICTUREEE😭

yourusername: my very own prince eric 🫶 ilysm🩵🩵

charles_leclerc: ily my ariel now come back and sing 2 me pls 😊😊

yourusername: i’ve been in the kitchen for 5 mins grabbing YOU a snack…

charles_leclerc: the only snack i want is u now come sing

yourusername: omwwwww

username: simp charles for y/n voice, he is so me

username: OUR ARIEL🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

username: she’s so cute 🥹

username: i know yall read that in a sebastian voice too

username: i’ll never get over her vocals in the movie 😫

lilymhe: the cutest ariel 🧜‍♀️

yourusername: tysm bae🫶

lilymhe: wanna get outta here n leave our bfs behind ???

yourusername: i’m one step ahead of u, i have one foot out the door

charles_leclerc: wait….

arthur_leclerc: knew you were obsessed with the little mermaid for a reason!

charles_leclerc: what can i say😁

username: the first pic ☹️☹️

username: tears she got herself the ultimate white man simp

username: living her best life as a princess w her man who simps for her at her side 💆‍♀️

username: the peoples princess !!

[inupibaldspot]

Back off, kid.

Pairing: gojo satoru x reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : this is a part 2 but you don’t really ly need much context haha.

·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·

“You know you guys don’t really look alike.” You say as you bring your hands up and rearrange the tuft of hair to your liking, you hum when the other wise spiky persistent hair bends obediently.

While in-front of you there was a younger dark haired boy, face completely pink but doesn’t dare let any part of his body move from your touch. “We aren’t related so we shouldn’t look alike.” Fushiguro tries to act as normal as ever.

“You know he has been introducing himself as your dad in your PTAs.” you pull away with a smile. “Satoru says they get so shocked and think he is a teen-dad.” You laugh as you trail back to the memory, Gojo’s snarky comment on ‘If I’m Megumi’s dad then you’re his mom; Which makes you my wife~’ remains unsaid.

When you pull away, Fushiguro finally feels his body release tension and finally he lets out a sigh. He hopes Tsumiki comes back finishing her club meeting soon.

“Why are you sighing like a old man, Megumi?” You get up from cushion floor as you then proceed to sit on the nearby sofa and cross you legs, giving him a teasing smile.

Fushiguro looks away from you with a huff. “Just a small headache.” and maybe even a chest pain. Both caused by you.

You hum as you then let out a ‘ah—!’ as you then proceeded to smile and pat on you nap. “Come here.” You smile proudly.

Poor Fushiguro Megumi’s face burst into steam from the heat radiating off his face. “Like hell I can!”

“Megumi…” you said in a soft tone which make the younger boy flatter. “I’m not teasing, I’ll just give you a massage.”

The boy huffs and sits infront of his feet as he felt your gentle soft hands guide his head to you lap. His frown dissipates as he then lets out a sigh of relief upon the movement of your hands near his temple.

You let out a giggle to how Fushiguro was acting like an old man, maybe this is what happens to people who deal with Gojo on a daily basis. “How’s school? from next year you’re going to be a middle school student,megumi.”

It’s been a while since you visited, already finished with highschool and now acting as an active jujutsu sorcerer has kept you busy but still then you would always visit once a week, make them a good meal while also bringing in some groceries. You didn’t have to but you’ve always done it, your soul was so unwavering it warmed Fushiguro to his very core.

“I’ve been using the notes you’ve prepared for me so school is pretty smooth for now…” Fushiguro finally replied as he still doesn’t move his head from your lap, his eyes closed and arms crossed infront of him, cheeks with a rosey color.

“Thank god.” You beam, Fushiguro watches from the crack of his eyes. “It was actually my notes from back in the days. I always kept them with me.”

Fushiguro closes his eyes, the more he watches you the more he feels his heart constrict as if it ran a marathon. “y/n, I want to say… thank you—ugh!” The poor boy’s was pushed off your lap with a sudden but controlled push. “What the hell?”

“I’m so tiredddddd, y/n.” The voice almost purrs as there is a tuft of white hair on the plush of your thighs. You blink at Gojo who seemed to be looking at you from behind his bandages with a wide smiles plastered on his face. “Gimme a massage too~”

Fushiguro knows this scene too well.

Perhaps he wasn’t as subtle as he thought but any time he was too close to you, Gojo who is in his early 20s and almost a decade older than him always manages to throw him away. And now he watches you frowning and reprimanded Gojo for acting like that.

He sighs. “I’m leaving.”

You and Gojo quickly turn to his direction. You had a confused look to your face then it contours to something of worry. Was he mad at Gojo? Fushiguro could almost hear your thoughts.

Where as Gojo who currently has his head on his lap and one of his hand playing with your finger, give him a confused look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘I won!’ smirk.

“Got homework.” Fushiguro turns and leaves.

“Satoru, you’re always acting like that to Megumi.” You say as you tear your hands away from his and then give his head a light ‘chop’.

“Then he shouldn’t touch what’s mine.” He huffs , as he closed his eyes and forms a sassy pout.

“What’s mine?” You question. “Did Megumi take something of yours?“

“No…Right now, it’s still with me.” Gojo opens his eyes, which makes your breath hitch. his eyes ever so beautiful as the evening glow assist its glimmer. “You know what I mean right?”

Your breath hitches and suddenly the room is much hotter,your heart races as it blooms in warmth.

Gojo’s face softens as he looks at your flustered face. “What I mean is… I’m in lo—UGH!”

“Sorry”

Suddenly a new enters the room, the same dark haired boy who left moments earlier. “My pencil slipped from my hand.”

“Megumi, you brat!” Gojo stands up, with currently a pencil stabbed on his forehead. Megumi threw it because he knew Gojo wouldn’t even think of letting his infinity be active when he was near you after all.

Gojo watches as Fushiguro gives him his usual deadpanned look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘Hah! As if I’ll let you confess on my watch’ smile.

Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡— @lysaray @thirtykiwis @sillysillygoofygoose @hotvinimon @olivianyx @anan-baban @shirabaee @genticcs

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Idk if you remember but you wrote a small drabble where reader was konigs secret admirer and it's been eating at my brain ever since😭 would you ever consider making it an actual story?

Oh I fell in love with the concept too! Here's a part 2 to that little drabble, I humbly offer it to you with my fluffy little paws ^^

CW: 18+ smut, fluff. Nothing bad here, just sweetness. Ok maybe a tiny bit of biting and light angst because it’s König after all... (Part 1 here)

He still doesn’t know who the mystery girl is.

She likes to tease him with cute messages and a photo of her tits but won’t tell him her name or where she lives. The girl won’t come to meet him so that he can show her some love, nor will she agree to go on a date with him. She just responds to his pathetic suggestions with a bundle of emojis that are about to drive him crazy, and another message that says: “Soon!” 

König has to fall back on the bed and go to sleep with a rock hard dick and a set of twitching, lonely hands. His dream of having a proper girlfriend was shoved on the back burner ever since he joined the Jagdkommando, but now there’s a certain girl inside his head, a new, even better dream he can’t repel. The next day is no better; he even forgets what he was supposed to bring home from the store, knowing his mom will only sigh and tell him they’ll survive without some ingredient they both know is very well essential.

He stands before the butters and spreads, trying to recall what his mother wanted when he hears a soft gasp further down the aisle. He turns his head and barely catches the sight of a woman, turning in her heels and rushing down the flour section, just somewhere out of sight.

Hope and curiosity spark inside him as he leaves the butter and darts after her, calling “Hey” and “Wait” between the shelves as she flits towards the cashier in mild terror. He chases her as if he were trying to catch a thief, and the girl picks up her pace, then slows down to a complete halt… and turns.

Lovely, fearful eyes behold him the immediate second she meets his gaze, immobile hands clutching a bag of croissants and a jar of chocolate butter against her chest.

He slows down his jog and arrives in front of her with a smile, but the girl only looks more and more afraid. Even her jaw is clenched shut, the spitting image of a prey who just got caught.

“You’re her, aren’t you? The mystery girl,” he asks, trying to make it clear as day just how excited he is to finally meet her in person.

Her eyes stay wide as she blinks, the little bag of croissants crunching a bit further in her grip as she tries to shield her vital parts.

“Are you done shopping…?”

Still no answer.

She’s shy, just like he is... Maybe even more so, which is incredibly endearing: the same girl who sent him a picture of her boobs last night, the same girl who had no trouble teasing him to the point of leaking cum all over his sheets is as shy as a deer when caught in daylight. 

It’s so incredibly cute… He thought she was a seductress of the most dangerous kind, but here she is now, looking up at him as if he was some boogieman about to come and snatch her away.

His smile only widens as he looks at his little minx who just tried to run away from the individual she’s sent postcards and love letters to ever since they were kids… Who knew his secret admirer was a bashful little cutie who sneaks around the local store to get herself some sweets and snacks?

“Let me pay for those,” he gestures at the products in her hand. 

Another awkward silence follows until she finally turns her eyes to the floor and nods.

Perhaps it’s not that odd that she sent him anonymous notes and talked to him in texts and letters if she’s this timid -- he of all people should know how tough it is to walk to someone he likes and tell them he wants to go out. But he can’t help but wonder if the girl is mute, or partly deaf, or both. He wouldn’t mind. As long as they understand each other, it’s perfectly fine. 

She looks at him like he’s a god —or a monster—while he pays for her humble delicacies. She stares at him with eyes still wide while putting the groceries inside a tiny cotton bag she has with her, and says nothing when he extends his hand towards her. 

“Here. Give it to me.”

He’s trying to act the part of a gentleman to the full, and she offers the floor a tiny smile while handing him the bag. It weighs less than a half kilo, but the gesture is all that seems to matter because she is indeed smiling, shy and pleased as he shoulders the so called burden for her.

“I can walk you home if you like?” he suggests while pushing the door open for her. 

She steps out into the luminous sunlight, eyes squinting a little from the sudden brightness. Then she turns to him and says her first meek words.

“But... Then you’ll know where I live…”

“Ah! She talks,” he laughs with a full smile and watches with a spreading warmth in his chest how she starts to grin, too. She’s looking at the asphalt and her shoes but she’s smiling, incredibly beautiful and pretty, outshining even the prettiest summer day.

“Don’t worry,” he starts to banter with increasing confidence—when has he ever teased anyone, let alone been confident around a girl he likes? “I promise I won’t come howling under your window at night...”

“It’s… It’s not that,” she laughs and bites her bottom lip. “I still live with my mom…”

She starts to walk towards where he lives, and he follows, his long legs catching up with her with ease. 

“There was the COVID, and my mom is a little unwell… And with the economy… I’m still a student,” she explains while they stroll down the street.

“Really? I’m a student, too.”

“Oh…? What are you studying?”

“How to kill people,” he shrugs, cursing his stupid carefree mouth immediately. “Fuck… Sorry. That was… I mean, I’m in the army.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles.

He sneaks a peek her way, and she indeed doesn’t seem to be shocked in the slightest. Far more frightened she looked at the store when he noticed her and began to chase the poor girl. 

They proceed to talk about what he does and why, how he only just returned from a month’s training that included concealment training in the mountains. She seems interested enough in his choice of career, which he tries to make sound as striking as possible, far more intriguing than it actually is. He tries to appear a little too glorious in her eyes, fearing he won’t live up to the reputation and fantasy she has built inside her pretty little head.

What if she wanted him to be a doctor instead of a moronic soldier? Maybe she fantasized about a lawyer or a historian with whom she could have fascinating conversations… And he’s just babbling nonsense about weather meters and ghillie suits.

But her eyes are still smiling, always at him when he looks away and starts to talk with his hands. When they arrive at the little wicket gate leading up to her house, he notices she lives only about a kilometre away from his childhood home. 

She was always here, and he never knew anything about it… His secret admirer, his passionate seducer, turns out to be a harmless, lovely angel who lives right in the neighbourhood.

She takes her little cotton bag and turns to open the gate, and his hands twitch and flex. Say something clever, his mind yells, ask her out for fuck’s sake… But he needn’t worry, for his precious girl next door immediately turns back and shields her eyes from the sun while looking up at him.

“I’m sorry… I froze a little at the store. I just… This wasn’t how we were supposed to meet...”

“No? What did you have in mind for us then?”

She drops her hand back down and gives him a little halfway shrug, embarrassed.

“I don’t know. I just… I don’t even have any make-up on...”

He risks to bring a hand to her face, his thumb on her cheekbone, sweeps a little arc there to let her know she’s fucking beautiful.

“You’re very pretty,” he says, and she raises her eyes back to his, this time looking like she’s being blinded by the sun even if he’s shielding her from it.

“I really liked the picture you sent me,” he says boldly, and for the second time this afternoon, hopes the earth could swallow him right then and there. 

A pretty girl sends him one nice picture of her tits, and he has to be an asshole about it… She looks super uncomfortable, so flustered that she nearly guides her face away from his palm. 

Fuck that he’s stupid… Must he always be such an idiot and fuck everything up?

“I’m sorry... I meant to say that–”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she rises on her toes and plants a quick, flustered peck on his cheek, then turns to the gate as quickly as a whirlwind. Opens it, and returns solely to give him a bashful, naughty little smile. 

“I liked your picture too,” she says so softly he can barely hear it. 

“...Oh,” he squeaks, cheek still burning from her kiss.

“Do you want to come and see me tonight...? Mom usually drops before ten...”

“I… I… Sure.”

…

It’s a catastrophe.

His old jeans barely fit him anymore, they’ve become way too tight around the thighs. He’s put on some weight during the past few years and made sure to go to the gym every slack hour he has at his disposal, which means he’s packed a bit of muscle here and there. That, along with the many outdoor trainings, have ensured his appetite remains even bigger than usual so it’s no wonder none of his old pants fit. The only ones that don’t look utterly suggestive and wrong are his grey sweatpants, which he wore to the store today. He can’t very well wear those on a date, no matter what all those thirsty TikTok memes say...

He sighs, and grabs the black military pants he had on when he came here, pairing them with a simple black T-shirt. That’s all he has in his drawers: black, black, black, a few white ones that have some food and coffee stains on them, stains that never leave no matter how hard his mom tries to wash them for him.

The house is silent as he slips the keys into his pocket and hollers that he’s leaving. Like some lovesick, unneutered dog about to slink into the night…

“Mom? I’m going out. I… I have a date.”

“At this hour...?”

“Yeah… We’re… Going out to look at the moon,” he makes up off the top of his head.

His mom would scold him for harassing some poor girl when it’s almost midnight, even if it was her who invited him to her house. And if he’s lucky, there’s going to be a lot more action than just staring at the moon together… Not that that’s all he wants; it’s just that he’s been lonely as fuck and could really use a hug. 

Is it a crime, with the past that he has, to want some human contact? Some skin on skin memories that don’t include punching?

“My little boy,” his mom strolls into the room, looking at him with soft, worried eyes. “You look like you’re about to invade some poor, innocent country…”

“Eh… I know. All the other pants were too small.’

She smiles at him: seeing a grown man sweat like a pig before a date must be a silly sight, even more compelling when that man is your own boy. The clock ticks on the wall as she looks at him like he’s about to march off to war, his only shoes a pair of standard leather boots he’s used for two years now. He showed them some grease and a brush, managed to make them look a little less worn and torn – if he had known some cute girl back home had a crush on him, he would’ve visited a clothing store before he came here…

His mom raises a shaky hand and draws him down to kiss him on the cheek, her eyes glossy and hazed from the gathering tears. 

“I’m glad you’re finally eating enough,” she whispers with a voice that barely holds intact, and they both know why it’s shaking, why everything’s trembling; her hands, her voice and her tears.

His bottom lip is twitching too from witnessing his mom being so happy for his sake. But he doesn’t want to cry. He must stay oblivious and strong and pretend that things are finally how they should’ve been: normal and easy and wholesome and good. For her, he will never show that he’s shaking… Too many things in her life have done that when she needed them to stay stable and safe.

“Wish me luck,” he gives her a nervous smile, laughing the tears away.

“I always do…”

He leaves before his tower crumbles, slips out into the sweet, scented night.

There’s roses somewhere, roses that smell heavenly, some early jasmine too that wishes to intoxicate his mind. He realizes he has nothing with him to take as a gift for her, and cusses again. This is a fucking date, and he’s not even dressed properly; he doesn’t even have flowers to bring with him… She’s going to think he’s a nobody, some penniless freak who dresses like a crazy person when he’s supposed to dazzle her and make her swoon.

On his way to her place, he stops to cut a small branch from a flowering rowan tree and shelters it from the gusts of wind that blow from the river. The tiny flowers are delicate and fragrant, not exactly what he would’ve taken to her had he been clever enough to visit a florist before they all closed. But it’s cute enough, to him at least, especially when it’s cut from the tree that was his safe haven as a boy.

The curtains at her window shift when he arrives at the gate, and he knows she’s been expecting him, waiting for the clock to strike ten as eagerly as he.

The front door opens, and there she is: dressed far more accordingly than he; his lady has slipped into a sweet summer dress like the angel that she is. It’s bright and yellow, far from the darkness he always wears, and his heart is slowly squeezing to bits inside his chest.

“Hey,” she gives him a wide, knee-buckling smile.

“Hey,” he smiles back, marching to her door like a horny, ugly wolf. “You want to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful ni–”

The moment he arrives at her feet, the moment she sees that he’s carrying a tiny branch from the rowan tree for her, she snatches the front of his shirt and pulls him inside with a surprising amount of strength.

His forehead hits the doorframe with a thick thud before he manages to bow, and there’s a bit of a commotion after that. He huffs something akin to Oof and laughs, making the angel flit around him in a wild, flustered shame, apologizing to him at least ten times.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”

“Heh. It’s okay,” he smiles while rubbing the achy spot on his head. He’s forced to sit into an old wicker chair, wide enough to accommodate his back but far too low to hold his stature. He sinks inside it like a veritable giant while she continues to fuss around him, inspecting his “wound” and taking the offering from him with a helpless, embarrassed stare.

“I’ll get you some ice,” she says before leaving him in his chair, the flower he brought softly placed on the bed. 

He’s afraid the furniture will break if he moves, so he stays as still as possible while taking in his surroundings, the soft girl adobe he has somehow managed to sneak his sorry rotten arse into. 

She has a large TV in front of her bed, a gaming console and a lot of books, candles everywhere he steals a look. The beige bedding looks freshly changed and incredibly soft, and there’s an old bunny toy on her bedstand along with another book, both loved to bits. Some houseplants on the floor appear to be doing extremely well, a small leather bag and some makeup left scattered on her desk. Rocks and twigs and dried flowers rest on her window sill, treasures she’s gathered from her trails. It makes his heart grow soft because he knows she will probably put his little offering there too. A bouquet of expensive, luxurious flowers wouldn’t have hit their target at all.

She returns with a small pack of ice and rushes to him in her flowy, blooming summer dress. Descends on her knees and brings a small towel to his forehead before pressing the ice over it, ensuring that it’s not too cold to make him uncomfortable. 

As if he could ever feel uncomfortable, seated in a wicker chair with an angel between his legs, treating his supposed wound with ice and the softest touch…

“Remember all those postcards you sent me?” he asks while she continues to look like the worst person who ever lived, simply because she was too eager to pull him inside her room.

“Sadly, yes.”

“Remember what you wrote to me?”

“Not really,” she says, dabbing the ice pack all over the rising bump on his head. “Something stupid, I suppose…”

“You told me that you love me.”

Her eyes dart to his for a while, hope and shame battling in her fae stare.

“...Oh God.”

“Many times. And then you told me that I’m cute…”

She sighs and brings the ice and the cloth somewhere in her lap. The breasts inside their soft little cell look astoundingly delicious when viewed from up here: he’s slouching in a chair and still, is able to take a rude little peek inside her dress. He slaps himself mentally for being such a goddamn pervert, but then she sighs again, the cute little peaches swelling inside her dress once more.

“That’s it?” 

“That’s mostly it, yes…”

He’s getting hard here, which is a problem. A big, big problem…

His shy admirer never notices anything, not even when he softly gestures for her to give the ice to him. He continues to press it on his forehead, trying to concentrate on the cold sensation rather than the swelling dick in his pants. 

How is he supposed to not grow hard when he knows this adorable little creature has been infatuated with him for so long? When he knows she’s flustered now, just from hearing him tease her about those silly, harmless cards?

“I kept every single one,” he tells her, only to watch how the shy girl grows even shyer.

“You didn’t…”

“I did.”

He tells her about the bullies and how they made it look like they had sent the cards, telling him no girl could ever want to be with him. It’s a sad attempt to fish for her affection and pity, words of contempt and judgement to hammer it home that he did receive those cards from this girl, he did, in fact, deserve to be loved and adored.

And then she starts to talk about how she watched him... How she went to a different school than him, but that she sometimes strolled behind him when he walked home. They shared the journey to and from school, and he was always completely unaware that he was being followed.

“You stared at this rowan tree for what seemed like hours,” she recalls with a sad smile. “Then, if a bee caught your eye, or a bird or some flower, you stopped to ogle at those instead…”

He laughs, but there’s a bittersweet stone in his chest. If he remembers correctly, these were the only times of the day he could drop his eternal guard: in school, he was being tormented by cruel kids and at home there lived a tyrant with his sad little subjects. Trees and bees and birds were a welcome distraction.

She smiles a little, but it’s not a happy smile, even if it is affectionate.

“My mom always told me to come straight back home,” she says. “But you were never in a hurry...”

He looks at her, and she looks back, some pity in her eyes. There arrives a sweet and sour pain in his heart, a feeling that comes from knowing there was someone who witnessed a glimpse of the hope and pain he lived in. That there was someone there all along… 

“You even stopped to look at dog poo…”

“Heh... Was that the moment you fell for me?”

Her lip twitches, the pity in her stare breaks. She rises a little to lean forward, and he catches her with ease as she falls there into his arms, snug into his lap. His lips find hers without effort, and sensation bleeds: his hands are sweaty and shaking as he runs them down along her dress, cups her ass so that she gives a little gasp straight into his mouth. 

That’s the thing he was pining for: for her to open that pretty little mouth so that he could pry it further open with his own. Plunge an exploring tongue inside, not too quick and not too greedy, just a little poke to see if she wants to be claimed.

The angel melts in his lap, like pure white snow, until he braces his core and rises to his feet. It’s now or never, and he’s not going to let this moment slip past his fingers. Somehow, they end up on the bed, the smell of fresh linens and her dainty perfume catching his nose before she presses a pair of weak hands on his chest.

“The flower...”

The flower... Of course. 

The flower from the rowan tree.

He huffs a laugh on her face, a relieved smile as he understands she’s only worried about trampling his gift.

It’s set aside on the table, but right after that, he attacks her again, begins the ascension to heaven. His lips won’t get enough of her, not even as he drinks her like honeydew and ambrosia: the dress he used to associate with seraphs and summer now seems like a huge obstacle between his tongue and her skin, the need to taste more of her urgent in his hips.

“Can I take this off?” He roughs a hand down the fabric that shields her breasts, relishing the tiny moan that follows when he does that. “I want to kiss you everywhere…”

Her throat makes a wet, charming sound as she swallows, her eyes now pools of dark, drunken love. 

“On one condition,” she tells him, out of breath. “If I can kiss you everywhere too?”

It’s a deal, his mind exclaims immediately, but his devilish grin is how he tells her he’s more than eager to accept these terms. His clothes find their way on the floor along with hers, black on black on yellow, but he won’t let her shiver in the cold for long. Like a man possessed, his body finds hers, her soft, naked skin colliding with his like heaven after all those lonely nights of slick, urgent fapping. 

He’s not sure who’s worshipping who here, but he vows to never again let this angel fly under his radar, no matter how perfect of a guardian she has been. A guardian angel, following him with her blessed stare, sending him heavenly messages that were real and true all along. 

She should be rewarded for her abundant gifts, and so his lips find her shoulders and her neck; they graze her nipples and claim her breasts in devouring that leaves her back arching on the bed.

“You don’t have a girl? Waiting for you back there...?” she asks shyly, even when half her tit is being sucked by his mouth.

“The only thing waiting for me back there is my hand,” he rasps while diving down, down, down, all the way past her navel and the mound she still tries to protect from plunder.

“...I can be your girl,” she whispers somewhere high above, her hands holding his head like that of an untamed dog. “If you want…?”

He breathes on the apex between her thighs, presses a furious kiss there without care. 

“F-fuck…” she sighs those thighs open, and from that point on, nothing is enough.

It’s horrible that it must be so: that he finally gets to drink his fill, and it’s still not enough. Her sighs are not enough, her trembling body is not enough. Her attempts to muffle her moans with the back of her hand are not nearly enough.

He wants more, so much more: he wants to try all there is to this with her, forever and ever until the day he dies. He wants to hear her soil her tongue with more curses as he ruins her, bit by bit, just a little bit…

“Say it,” he pants into her glistening lips, “Say that you’re my girl…”

When she does nothing but whimpers in return, he attacks her with both teeth and tongue. Bruises the thigh beside her treasure before plunging straight towards the main prize with reckless want. That’s what finally forces the words out of her mouth: his tongue inside her cunt, delving so deep he has to breathe through his nose to keep from fainting.

“I’m your girl,” she moans on the bed, a bit louder now. “I’m yours, I promise… I always… Always…”

I always was….

She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t need to. 

He grants her mercy after that, replacing the tongue with a finger or two. Slow wide circles over her clit accompanied by quick little pumps in her hole make her cum in no time, and he’s glad he listened to the dirty mess talk of his filthy comrades. Patience is not his virtue, but for her, he makes all the effort.... He for sure leaves a little memory on her thigh. It’s not very nice of him, and he fears those teeth marks might stay with her longer than just a few weeks. 

Maybe she’ll forgive him if he fucks her after this, rocks her slowly and softly, fucks her like angels ought to be fucked. But no, fucking is not the right word... He wants to make love to her. Drink her moans right from her lips while he does it.

After the climax, he’s still hard and she’s still panting.

He wonders if he’ll get slapped or kissed if he asks for permission to put it inside now... His dick is throbbing while they stare at the ceiling together, but as always, his angel is two steps ahead.

“My turn,” she says with newfound vigour, and he gets more than he bargained for: everything and more as she gives his body the same attention he just gave her. Bites his nipples a little too hard, the little minx, licks his ribs as if it’s some kind of a contest to try and make him tickle. Laughs angel trails across his skin, draws a finger down his nether hair until she meets his jutting dick.

She gives him a tame little lick at first, then slowly, expeditiously, kisses his cock from root to tip. Before due time, his thighs start to tremble, and that’s when she takes it in her mouth: sucks and licks him deep until his abs and balls pull tight. The sheet in his fist threatens to get torn to shreds when he cums, and for a moment, he forgets everything, even his name, until he notices that the poor little thing can’t swallow all his load. She almost chokes on the first spurt, withdraws to cough with her mouth closed while he hisses fat curses past clenched teeth. 

When he arrives back to Earth, there’s cum everywhere: on her face, on the sheets, all over his abdomen and his thighs, an eruption that spilled everywhere because his angel got a little appalled.

“I’m sorry,” she peeps with her mouth still full of it.

The poor girl swallows it bravely, and his heart is about to explode: his angel swallows his filthy load like a champ and looks so incredibly valiant while doing it.

“Hey,” he raises a shaking hand towards her, too weak to rise from the bed to comfort her. “It’s okay… You didn’t need to do that…”

“But I wanted to,” she complains while the thick, sticky cum drips down her cheek and onto her breasts.

“Shit… Come here,” he coaxes, and she crawls forward to nestle in the nook of his arm. 

He uses the sheet to dry the rest of it off her face. She looks up at him with that trademark seraph stare, so helpless and in love—if this is what having a girlfriend is like, then he doesn’t feel bad at all that he had to wait a little longer than most men. It was worth all the trouble and toil that he has her here now, in his arms, batting her lashes sweetly. 

“You’re still incredibly cute, you know...?” she whispers, and a mountain inside him moves. 

It’s not sorrow, nor is it yearning; it’s just sweet, simple love. The room smells of salt and sin, but there’s nothing sinful about her when she cups his chin. He knows it’s not elegant to tell someone you love them on the day you've met them, but if the one you love happens to be an angel, then isn't it a sin not to confess?

[paigebueckersmommy]

guilty as sin? pt. 1

paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: gay awakening?? toxic relationship, slightly suggestive if you squint

a/n: bc this song is the only thing i think abt and it’s so paige coded

you grew up not religious, but in a religious family. you were told that being gay was wrong, and ignoring the voice inside you, you told yourself you were straight.

you were in a toxic relationship which you knew was toxic beucase of the things people had told you. when you started classses at uconn in 2021, you boyfriend was also attending uconn. you knew about paige, but had never been much into basketball although your boyfriend was.

he took you to a uconn wbb game and sat there as you waited for the game to start. and suddenly, you saw paige. you never seen her looking so beautiful, and felt like soemthing about you had been changed when suddenly you and paige made eye contact as you were sitting pretty close to the court.

uconn won the game, and you acted you payed attention on the ride your boyfriend gave you up your dorm knowing you only had eyes for paige the entire game. “yea i had fun,” you say tiredly.

the next day you had a 11 am class, and as you walked into the lecture hall you spotted someone across the hall from you. paige. you looked over to her in the crowded hallway, and quickly looked back. you walked into the lecture hall before paige, as you sped up the pace of your walk in the hallway.

you sat down closer to the back in the middle of a empty row. you sat down and got your computer out of your bookbag, when you heard someone. “hey, can i sit here?” you heard a deep voice say, it was paige. “oh uh yea that’s fine.” you say with a smirk, paige sits down also with a smirk. while you wait for the professor to arrive to class, you and paige had conjured up some small talk, when suddenly paige turned to you, “wait, were you at my game last night?” paige says with a grin curling in the corner of her mouth.

“oh yea i was. you did good out there.” you say with slight panic. “oh thanks, who was that guy with you?” paige says leaning back. “that was my boyfriend.” you say with slight embarassment.

“ohhhh.. okay.” paige said with a slight giggle. you heard her murmur something under her breath, “i could change that.” you heard. “what was that?” you say with even more embarassment than before. “oh nothing sorry,” paige said as the professor started talking.

you and paige didn’t talk the rest of the class since you were taking notes. as you two stood up and started packing up to leave she looked at you, “hey what’s your name?” paige said. “oh ny name is (yn),” you say with a smirk. paige starts away with a smile. “well it was nice talking to u see you later.”

as you walk back to your dorm, your mind is overstimulated with thiughta about paige. was she filming with you? what did she muffle under her breath that i couldn’t hear? and is paige my gay awakening?

later that night you lay in your bed watching instagram reels when suddenly you see a small ‘1’ appear on your notification box. you tap on it,

“@paigebueckers started following you��

you smile and quickly follow her back. when you get a notification from dms and you assumed it was paige.

P: yo

Y: hey how’d you find my instagram? lmao not complaining just wondering.

P: ma you told me your name

ma. the word paige typed sent chills down your spine and wetness in between your thighs.

P: what’s ur number?

Y: *** *** **** :)

*over texts*

P: do you have any classes tmrw?

Y: yea one at 9

P: wanna come over at 5?

Y: yea that sounds good :)

P: see u then ma good night

there it was again. ‘ma’

you smile into your pillow and when your done, you pick up your phone, scrolling in your phone app to find your boyfriends contact and press call.

B: hey ba-

Y: hey yea we’re over

B: what the fuc-

you hang up.

[masonreds]

mason mount x reader

Summary: Y/N distances herself from Mason thinking that it would help her feelings.

word count: 3,7k words

notes: sorry if this is a bit too dramatic for you’re liking 👀 also take a shot for everytime y/n says sorry 😂😂 I’ve also not posted in a while so please leave feedback if you can, it will be appreciated 💞

This isn't how you expected tonight to go.

Here you were, in the bathroom locked away from the fun downsatairs, away from your own birthday party. You just couldn't handle it anymore.

You couldn't handle your feelings for him anymore. You hated being friends when deep down you know you knew what you wanted and the possibility of him turning you down, rejecting you just thinking about it made you an anxious mess.

You couldn't keep this up anymore. You wanted more.

The knocking on the bathroom door made you snap back into reality, and you already knew who it was without them even talking.

You just knew it was Mason.

The person who'd you been trying to avoid for the rest of the night.

'Last I checked, the afterparty hasn't been moved to the bathroom.'

'I'll just be a minute!' You say, trying to sound normal enough.

'What's wrong?' Apparently not.

'What do you mean? I'm just freshening up a bit.'

'What's bothering you?'

'i don't know what you mean,' you try to laugh it off , but the pressure in your chest becomes a little too tight and it comes out as a more gasping noise than a light chuckle. You clear your throat. 'i told you, I'll be out in a minute. It's getting late, everybody else has probably gone, you can go too. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?'

Mason just ignores what you said. 'You would've at least made five sarcastic comments in the last two minutes if everything was fine. You forget how i can read you like a book.' He pauses. 'And you certainly wouldn't be hiding away from your own birthday party for most of the night. Especially when you always refuse to let me leave without helping you clean up.'

Shit

'Mase, i told you, I'm -'

'Cut the bullshit, Y/N.' He told you sternly, before continuing, 'I watched you blow out the candles. I saw that look you made after you made your wish, and you looked up at me for a split second. And that look you had on your face, as if you were going to start crying right there and then. You masked it quickly, but I saw it. I’m not going to stand here and pretend I didn’t see it.’

‘I don’t know what you’re-’

‘Yes you do,’ he interjects. ‘Because right about an hour ago I’m handing you a drink and the next thing I know, I see your face crumple like that again. And-’ he takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘And it fucking broke my heart.’

You stood there, stunned.

‘So, are you going to tell me what I did wrong?’ He asks.

‘You didn’t do-’

‘Because you’re my best friend,’ he reminds you. ‘And I feel like I have a right to know what I did that made you make that face.’

There’s a beat of silence, and he says, in a lower tone than before. ‘Because I would do anything to make sure I never see it again. It breaks my heart seeing you like that.’

Stood still, your gaze is fixed at the door speed the two of you.

‘Y/N.’ He calls out, sounding more desperate than you ever thought him capable of being.

And that does it. The tears you’ve been desperately holding back through every conversation with him you had, not only tonight, but since the day you realised that you were in love with him. You’ve reached the point where there was no return, and the person you want to run to the most is also the one you couldn’t possible bare to see you in this state.

The stretch of silence following your name from his lips feels endless. You feel like you’ve been standing in front of the door, with your face painfully scrunched in a vain attempt to stop the tears from falling, for an eternity. That is until it’s broken by your shuddering gasp for air.

‘Y/N.’ He says again. Only this time his voice has shifted, even thought the distance hasn’t changed, you can feel his voice everywhere now. It has penetrated the walls and filled every corner of the room. You realise this is the first time he’s seen you cry.

Well, no. He still can’t see you.

He can only hear you, which means there’s still time to fix things going from bad to worse.

‘C’mon princess, don’t cry sweetheart,’ he beckons. ‘Please. Just come out and we’ll fix whatever’s happening. I swear.’

Those nicknames, which he sometimes throws around fondly and always makes your chest tighten in joy every time you hear them. It feels worse now. It feels torturous and cruel to hear him casually call you things you wished he truly meant.

And that only makes you cry harder.

Oh how you wish things were different, and how you wished you were destined to be with him.

‘I-I’m begging you,’ his voice sounds strained, and you feel guilty for putting him in such an uncomfortable situation.

‘I’m fine,’ you manage. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be okay in a sec.’

‘But you never cry,’ he says. Which was true, you never let him saw you raw emotions. You wanted him to think that you were fine and that you could handle it, until you couldn’t anymore.

‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper.

‘Stop apologising,’ he says firmly. ‘Now, can you please come out?’

‘I can’t.’

‘And why’s that?’

‘Because,’ you squeeze your eyes shut as more tears spill over. ‘You can’t see me like this. I don’t want it to change our friendship.’

‘Well what if I want it to?’ He counters.

‘What?!!’

‘What if I want it to affect our friendship?’ He sighs. ‘What if I want you to think you can come to me when you’re upset? Do you really think I’d push you away when you’re like this?’

You can’t get any words out. All you can do is let out a pathetic sob at the kindness of his words.

At my crying he stammers, ‘I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? I just meant-’

‘No!!’

‘No?’ He questions.

‘No,’ you can’t help but smile a little.

‘Well, look, I’m not going to force you to come out,’ he says. ‘If you truly want to be alone, I get that, and I’ll leave and you can come out whenever you’re ready.’

Good.

I think I can work with that - you thought.

‘But if the only reason you’re not coming out is because you’re afraid of how I’m going to react, then I’m the one who fucked up for making you think that you always need to be in a good mood around me,’ his voice softens. ‘I’ll leave you alone if you want, but please don’t try to push me away.’

Damn.

You almost left out a huff of laughter, because you know that no matter what you promised yourself, he always weakens your resolve. And it’s at this moment where you realise just how exhausted you are - how nearly two years of suppressing your feelings have been slowly eating away at you. And the weight of your misery becomes unbearable, and all you want is to leave the terrible ache in your chest behind.

More tears come running down your cheek, that you couldn’t seem to stop. You don’t bother wiping them away as you stare at yourself into the mirror. You see the hollowness of your eyes, the way you look pale in the dim bathroom light, and you know you can hardly handle the weight of your secret for much longer. Giving yourself an almost nod of understanding before reaching the door handle, unlocking the door and throwing common sense out of the window.

‘Princess?’ He asks. Your chest tightens at the sound of that stupid nickname again. It started off as a joke, Mason teasing you after you shared your love of fantasy books and fairy tales with him. And it stuck around, quickly becoming Mason’s favourite way to make you flustered while you always shoot him with an annoyed glare. You always told him you hated it, but after a while you began to carry it with a sense of pride. As much as it pained you to know he was only joking, it always made your heart contract in a way he was only capable of causing.

‘Promise me one thing?’ Your voice is unsteady from all the crying you’ve been doing.

‘Anything.’

‘Shut your eyes, will you?’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Not to brag or anything but I’m certain I’m one of the most ugliest criers out there. And I’m not sure if I can stand you see me like that,’ you do your best to joke. ‘Just for now, at least.’

‘You don’t realise how silly you sound, do you? But if that’s what makes you come out, then yeah sure.’ He says.

And with that, you pull the door handle down so you can open the door.

Mason’s perched at the very end of your bed, his hands resting on his lap. He’s facing you, and you’re relieved to see that his dud are still shut, as promised. You stand there for what feels like an endless amount of time, too stunned to move. But slowly, his hands move from his lap and palms his face up, beckoning you over.

It’s all the cue you need, and you step forward, placing your hands on his forearms, your grip is still shaky. Whilst his eyes are still closed, he engulfs you into a hug. You have hugged Mason plenty of times, more than you can count, but never with you crying into his arms. One hand rubs your back while the other gently caresses your hair, but the tenderness and kindness he’s showing only makes you cry harder.

‘Can I open my eyes?’ He murmurs. All you can manage is a quick nod against his chest. He tries to pull back from the hug so he can face you, but you figure that he cant see your tear stained face if it’s buried in his hoodie, so you remain firmly planted in the hug.

A few moments pass like this, both pressed impossibly close to each other and you can feel your heart rate begin to calm as your tears slowly subside. The exhaustion has saturated your body as you feel as though you can fall asleep on his chest before you heard him speak.

‘You’ll tell me what I did wrong, won’t you?’

‘I want to, but I can’t,’ you tell him.

‘Why?’ He doesn’t sound annoyed, his voice has a playful tone to it with a twinge of worry.

‘Because-’ you whisper. ‘Because you’ll hate me.’

‘Impossible,’ he says. ‘You’re one of my best friends, I don’t think I could hate you even if I wanted to.’

‘As much as I want to tell you why I gave you that look tonight,’ your voice is slightly muffled with your face buried in his hoodie. ‘I know it will ruin our friendship and I don’t think I can bare losing you.’

‘You’re not making any sense. I thought I was the one who upset you,’ he manages to pull away, untangling my arms from around his neck. He slowly rises from his perch, towering above me as he rests his hand on my shoulders. You can’t look at him though, so you lock your gaze onto the floor. ‘Seriously, Y/N, you know I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, but you’re starting to scare me.’ His confession makes your heart ache impossibly.

He brings his hand underneath your chin and slowly guides your face up to meet his. A few more tears escape your swollen eyelids, and he gently brushes them away. ‘I want to tell you,’ you avert your gaze, not being able to stand the intensity of his eyes on yours. ‘But I know how it’ll end. And I know you’ll resent me for it.’

‘Please don’t say that,’ he tries to meet your eyes. ‘There’s nothing that you could say to me right now that would make me even think about hating you, okay?’

‘But there is!’ You grip on to his forearms, relishing your closeness one last time. You know you’re going to be selfish you’ve ever been and ruin the most important thing in your life just to give yourself a moment of peace. ‘And I thought I was fine keeping it to myself, but I just can’t go on like this anymore.’

You stagger backwards, as you see the panicked look on his face. ‘I can’t eat or sleep,’ your fingers begin to nervously tangle themselves into your hair. ‘And I know you don’t deserve this, but I can feel myself going crazy and I know that I can’t keep this up.’

He slowly moves closer to you, his brow knotted in concern. ‘Keep what up?’

‘I can’t keep pretending that I’m not in love with you.’

There it is.

There’s no going back now.

He starts to say your name, but you cut him off quickly. ‘No, just let me finish,’ you bury your face in your hands, knowing damn well that you cannot possibly handle his reaction. You try your best to steady your breathing. ‘Because if I don’t do this now, it’ll just continue to eat away at me until I won’t even recognise myself.’

You take his silence as a cue to keep going. You remove your hands from your eyes but focus your attention on the floor. You eyes catch on a potted plant in the corner of the room by three window, and you keep your gaze focused on it as you utter your confession.

‘I thought it was just a little crush,’ your voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. ‘When we met a couple years ago. And then it was like one day I blinked and you and I had become best friends. I couldn’t remember a time when I was so happy.’

You’re crying now. You take another moment to gather your strength, and carry on, refusing to look up at him.

‘I thought us being friends would be enough, and for a while it was. I was fine loving you platonically, because I figured having you in my life as a friend would be better than not having you in my life at all. But my feelings never went away, they just continued to grow stronger and stronger and-’ you try to discreetly wipe your eyes. Your tears blurred your vision almost completely. ‘I knew you would never love me like I love you, because guys like you don’t date girls like me. The date models or influencers. The type of girl you brag to your friends about.’

‘I feel terrible because I’ve lied to you our entire friendship. I feel like this secret has just been festering inside of me and honestly I’ve been so miserable when I wake up everyday thinking this is it, this is the day you’ll find someone else and I’ll truly be nothing to you. But no matter how badly I try to protect myself from getting hurt in the end, I just can’t stay away from you.’ You let out a weak laugh.

You’re rambling now, you can feel it. You find it impossible to stop until he speaks. ‘What if I feel the same?’

You jerk your chin up to meet his eyes. He’s standing closer now, and you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.

Your stubbornness got in the way. ‘No you don’t. You could never love me.’

It feels like time stops when he says, ‘who said that?’

You shake your head, and viciously swipe your hands under your eyes. ‘No, Mase. Don’t say things you don’t mean. I know we joke around a lot but I would never fuck around with your feelings like that.’ You can feel panic rising in your chest.

‘I’m-’ Mason tries to go on to say until you interrupt.

‘You don’t have to let me down gently.’

‘Please give me a chance to speak, will you?’ He grips your shoulders gently, placing his face close to yours. And then he goes on to saying something you would’ve never expected. ‘Could you just pump the breaks for a second so I can tell you that I’m in love with you too?’

You stood stunned for a while before you managed to come out with ‘what?’

‘You do realise that I’ve been crazy about you for years now, right? I just didn’t know where you stood so I never had the guts to ask you out,’ He lets out a breathy laugh and runs his hands through his hair. ‘Oh god if I had known that you liked me back even a little I would’ve said something! I–I just thought you never saw me like that,’ He trails off. He stops and turns to me suddenly. ‘Princess, I am so sorry. All this time you felt like you couldn’t be yourself around me, like you couldn’t just tell me how you felt.’

You’re still staring at him, dumbfounded. You’ve realized that you still haven’t stopped crying, much to your absolute humiliation. If what he’s saying is true, you think, then why on god’s green earth can’t you calm down? But at this point the panicked sobbing has taken a new shape, now strangely mixed with exhaustion, giddiness, and confusion. You attempt a smile, but you imagine it looks very off-putting, considering your emotional state.

His hand on your arm breaks you out of your thoughts. ‘Sorry,’ I furtively wipe your eyes. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me – I mean, I should be jumping up and down with joy, but,’ you release another shuddering breath. ‘I can’t seem to calm down.’

The look he gives you is one you’ve seen many times before, though you never knew how to describe it. Calling it a look of kindness or interest didn’t seem like it was enough to describe the depth of his stare, and it felt too far to call it a look of worry. Only now after these past few minutes have you understood what his gaze is implying. It was more than affection, it felt like love.

‘Hey,’ he murmurs. ‘It’s okay, you’ve been through quite a bit just now, baby.’

I laugh a little at that. ‘That’s a good way to sum it up.’

He smiles again, and your stomach does more than just flip, it somersaults and launches itself into a dive roll. And then he pulls you into his arms again, and though you can’t stop the tears leaving your eyes, you feel like you can at least control your breathing a bit more.

‘Now I know you have a tendency to overthink,’ he says after a moment or two. ‘But there can’t be any of that right now, alright? Don’t think about tomorrow or this new thing between us, alright?’

You pause, but relent with a small nod.

He continues. ‘I care about you like I always have, and my priority right now is to make sure you’re okay.’ His hand rubs reassuring circles on your back as he speaks. ‘It’s late now, and you must be exhausted after everything tonight.’

You let out a small hum of agreement. Now that he mentions it, you feel absolutely wiped out, and a dull pain has begun to take roots in your temples. Mason gently moves back, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear and taking in the sight of you in front of him. For what felt like the millionth time, you feel yourself becoming self-conscious. You know how red and swollen your face becomes after you’ve cried, and you’re willing to bet that the mascara running down your cheeks gives your features an added air of insanity.

‘How about you let me deal with some of the mess in the living room, while you wash your face and wind down a bit?’ he suggests.

‘Yeah,’ your breath still comes out a little shaky as you restate his commands. ‘No overthinking.’

He nods, satisfied with your answer. ‘And when I come back tomorrow, we’ll talk, and then you can let that brain of yours ask a hundred and one questions as it always does. But not until then,’ he finished with a smile.

You can feel your heart start to drop at his words

‘You’re not staying?’

The words are out before you can stop yourself. You know he doesn’t want you thinking about this new thing between us right now, but he has no idea how much overthinking you’ll do if he walks out that door. You know if he leaves, you’ll barely get a wink of sleep all night, wondering if our heated exchange was nothing more than a champagne-induced dream.

Mason looks at me with a smile. ‘Of course I can stay.’

‘Are you saying that because I asked, or because you actually want to?’ You shoot him an incredulous look

‘Let me tell you something, princess,’ he stares deeply into your eyes, refusing to let your gaze slip from his. ‘I’ve never, never left your side willingly.’

His words cause your breath to hitch and for your heart to constrict almost painfully, but you refrain from grabbing the skin over your chest, from making sure that your heart is, in fact, still beating.

‘I wanted you to know that you don’t owe me anything right now, and that we’re still – we’re still us,’ he says. ‘I didn’t want you to feel weird if I stayed the night, that’s all.’

You let out a soft breath. ‘Thank you, Mase,’ you whisper. ‘I trust you, you know that I do.’

‘Good,’ he replies. ‘That’s a relief because I honestly didn’t feel comfortable leaving my girl alone right now.’

You have to physically hold yourself back from grinning at his words. My girl. The thought of those two words, and all they could possibly imply, made me feel light-headed. All you can do is nod your head in agreement.

He gently brushes some hair behind your shoulders, giving you a soft grin. ‘So how about you get ready for bed, and I’ll grab a T-shirt from my car and put away the stuff in the living room. I’ll be back in a few minutes, alright?’

‘Okay, I think I can manage washing my face before I pass out,’ you say jokingly.

Mason chuckles as he walks out of the room. ‘That’s my girl.’

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Hungover: knight!price x princess!reader

"Do you need a bucket?"

"Don't speak to me right now."

Sir John Price didn't try to hide his smile as he stood in the solar near the couch where you laid sprawled out. You had called him there so you could out early in the morning, however you ended confining yourself to the couch with a shawl covering your eyes.

"How are you not bedridden like me?" You groaned and he chuckled.

"Because," He began. He walked to the door and opened it, luckily catching one of the servants and asking her to bring you tea before he shut the door again. "I have a tolerance. You've barely drank more than a cup of wine in your life."

"Don't speak about alcohol, I may be sick."

Price scoffed and walked back over to you. He glanced around the room, shutting the curtains enough to where most of the sunlight was hidden but still illuminated the room before he turned to you. He knew there was no way you were going outside today, maybe not even outside the solar.

Because of that he felt a little out of place. You had no need for him, even if he wanted to stay. It would be a very bad look on you if he were stay around when you didn't need him and he didn't want to jeopardize you. There was also nothing he could do in the solar; he couldn't embroider or play chess because you were not capable.

There were the books but he'd rather do something else to torture himself with them.

"Should I leave, your highness?" He wondered but you shook your head.

"Keep me company. I won't fall asleep." You said softly.

"Do you believe that's wise?"

You peeked at him from behind the shawl and saw his concerned look. He glanced at the door again, saying it without saying it, and you thought for a long moment.

"Servants see everything but they seldom speak to anyone about it." You assure him as you placed the shawl back over your eyes. "And if I tell them I want you here, then they won't question it."

Price hummed, unable to stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he took a seat. You wanted him here.

"Should've brought my cards." He stretched out in the chair and looked through the crack of the curtains.

"You're free to the books." You gestured vaguely to the room before you brought the shawl down from your eyes. "I know, you could read to me."

Price's eyes widened and he looked at you with surprise. His mouth went a little dry as you stared at him with genuine joy at the idea yet he couldn't return it.

"You want to listen to me?" He wondered and you nodded.

"I'll fall asleep otherwise." You argued softly, though you weren't going to admit he might put you to sleep as well.

As much as he wanted to argue he could see that you weren't going to back down. He knew you wouldn't but now he was trapped, backed into a corner with no way to recover from this.

He could only imagine what you would say to him. What you might think, the crown princess of pure noble blood, would do when you found out the best knight in the realm's secret.

Regrettably he stood and walked to the shelf, staring at the many spines of the books.

"What should I read to you?" He's not sure why he asked, it's not like he would be able to pick out the right one.

"It doesn't matter, I've read them all." You hummed and you situated yourself more comfortably. "Which reminds me, I need to get different books soon."

Price hummed, noting that as he pulled out a random book. He eyed the cover, the engraved words meaning nothing to him as he felt himself grow even more nervous.

Perhaps he could come up with an excuse to leave...no he couldn't. He didn't want to hurt your feeling to save his pride.

"This one?" He held it up so you could see.

"Oh, that's one of my favorites! Good choice, Sir John." You smile and he sucked in his lips as his heart sunk.

"Alright..."

Price sat back in his chair and flipped the book open, pointedly ignoring your expectant stare as he stared at the first page. He couldn't even begin to guess what any of the words meant, only being able to recognize "the" "and" and "a". On maps he just memorized what others called the names on them, for letters he made Kyle write them. Here he had no crutch, nothing to fall back on and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Can you read, Sir John?" Your voice was softer but he couldn't look at you.

"No, your highness." He admitted and shut the book.

"Did your father not teach you?" You titled your head with confusion. "All squires get an education."

He couldn't lie anymore. He shook his head and kept his eyes on the cover of the book.

"I was very fortunate that the lord who took me in did, but I was already of age to start training, so I didn't have the time."

Your eyes widened with realization.

"You weren't born a noble?"

"No."

You stayed silent and Price found it hard not to feel some sort of shame. He hadn't deliberately lied, it was just that everyone had assumed he was fully noble without question. He grew up hidden among them, seeing a part of life he hadn't even dreamed of knowing that many of the other knights he had trained with would deny his nobility simply because his parents were peasants.

He knew how quickly things would fall apart if anyone found out, even if he was the best knight.

Now you knew.

It was another nail in the coffin of his unattainable desires. Not only was he a knight but he was technically a peasant. Your mother would punish you harder, which meant it was a good thing it'd never come to be.

Though he could only imagine how much this changed how you saw him.

"Why are you ashamed?" You sat up slowly and he finally glanced at you.

"You're not that naïve. Many would see me as a false knight despite my best efforts." He explained and you looked at him with soft yet serious eyes.

"Do their opinion mean more than your skills?"

Price's eyebrows knitted together and he looked at you for a moment. He had never thought about it that way but in reality the only thing that mattered to him was that the job got done, and that the crown was safe. That you were safe.

When he shook his head you nodded with finality.

"It shouldn't matter anyway. A knight's value is in his skill and you're incredibly well trained and brave." You said and he looked away bashfully. "If I heard such nonsense I wouldn't let it stand."

"You flatter me, your highness." He flashed you a nervous smile and you returned it.

"Better than barbaric."

He scoffed and nodded but couldn't think of anything else to say. He didn't like that you knew but seeing that you didn't care made him feel somewhat better. And knowing how you think of him took most of the embarrassment away.

He grabbed the book and stood up to put it back when you spoke.

"I'll teach you to read." You stated and he looked at you incredulously.

"I can't ask you to do that-"

"You didn't. I said I would."

Somehow you always managed to surprise him in the strangest ways possible. He watched you sigh in thought as you lounged back down on the couch and situate yourself more comfortably.

You stared at him with an unreadable look in your eyes that made him shift on his feet.

"Once I'm better." You smiled and closed your eyes. "Now tell me a story, or we'll both waste away from boredom."

He stared at you, unsure yet he couldn't help the way that his shoulders felt less tense and how...excited he felt to be able to read in the future.

The things he could do for you once he could would be endless.

"A story, eh? This one will be better than your books."

A/n: Sir John Price is not a poet and yet maybe he might write you something someday

Tags: @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze @waiting-so-long @sofasoap

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: another week ahead.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The gates open as horses snort and kick. The dawn air is ripe with impatience. You and Merinda watch as you stand east of the front doors. The luggage is clustered near the stables, to depart once all of the nobles have trotted their steeds from within the walls. 

Your encounter with the king lingers in your head but the echo of his anger and the scent of spilled ale is enough to deter you. A maid will not be missed. Merinda can’t tear her eyes away from it all. Her expression is longing and doleful. 

“A pity we must stay here with Lady Rezlyn,” she mutters, “she’ll be miserable without her daughter.” 

“I’m certain she will miss her,” you agree. 

“She won’t have any to indulge her,” Merinda sniffs, “or distract her.” 

“Mm, I suppose. Perhaps she will be too sad to be angry,” you suggest. 

The noise of mail approaches and you look up. You expect the soldier to pass by as all others have done. It is the same steely soldier who’d been at the king’s side that morning. Merinda steps closer to you as the man’s grey eyes are fixed on you. 

“Maid,” he barks, “find a cart.” 

You frown and look over at Merinda. 

“The king has sent for a lady maid for his wife,” the soldier explains, “you.” 

He points at you with his gauntlet and you flinch. The king has not forgotten or changed his mind. It was wrong of you to assume. You grab Merinda through her sleeve and squeeze. 

“Just me, sir?” you ask. 

“We needn’t a dozen of the traitor’s servants,” the man scoffs in return, “come. You will travel with the others amid the bedrolls.” 

You blanch and cling to Merinda. She whimpers and you turn to her, the reality setting in on your at once. Your chest feels as if it’s being crushed as you face your lifelong companion. As close to a friend as any might have in your position. 

“Mer,” you croak. 

“Save your tears, there’s no time,” the soldiers grits. 

Merinda pulls you into an embrace. “Be safe,” she whispers with a sniffle. 

“You too,” you part and look her in the face, “Mer, I--” 

“Yes, I know, me too,” she frowns, “you must go.” 

“Yes, you must,” the soldier insists and points towards the stable.  

Merinda lets you go and the fabric of her sleeve slips from between your fingers. You follow the soldier, looking back at the lone maid as she watches after you. You can see her wringing her hands. She’s never been the nervous sort. 

You take in a deep breath and turn forward. The soldier marches you to the back of a cart and points inside. There's just enough room for you among the chests and casks within. You climb up, moving your skirts from under your knees, and sit against the side. You don’t have anything to worry about leaving behind. 

He stomps away and you lean to see him around the wall of the cart. He disappears and you sit back and huff. Off to the capital and then the Hinterlands. You look down at your dress, the apron and wool frayed with your labour. You will be cold once you turn north, you hope you might bear it. 

There’s a clink of metal and horse hooves. You look up as a speckled grey steed appears by the cart. You gulp and gape at the large beast as its equally grey master holds it by the reins. The steely soldier shoves a wad of leaves into his mouth and chews. 

“Come this far,” he grumbles through sloppy gnashing, “just to guard the luggage.” He snorts and shakes his head, “I’m not in the mood for trouble, maid. You keep in your cart.” 

You lower your head as you bend your knees, and cross your arms across them, “yes, sir. Thank you.” 

He chews in the lull between you. He turns to spit the leaves onto the ground and kicks dirt over them. His horse nuzzles at his shoulder as he shrugs it off. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” he girds at last, “you won’t once you see the snow.” 

⚔️

The day rolls by with the wheels of the cart. You jostle with the movement as the grey soldier rides abreast of the luggage train. Ahead, the royal party and soldiers lead the way on the long road to the capital. There’s a glimmer of excitement in you, a sensation you’re not used to.  

You’ve only ever heard of the capital from your masters. Lady Jazlene’s tales of sparkling banquets and golden plates and raucous dances. Lady Rezlyn was more likely to talk of the courtly whispers, who is marrying who, which earl despises which count, and scandalous affairs of those already bound to another. Your anticipation is routed by a sadness; you don’t know that you’ll ever see Merinda again to tell her of all you see. 

You pick at your nails and watch the rippling clouds above. The blue sky appears as a sheet of pure satin with streaks of soft ivory. The sunlight streaks from the horizon, weaving into the cornflower expanse and limns over the soft green leaves of swaying trees. The smell of pollen and dirt breezes from the forests and the rustle of tall wheat drifts in from the rich fields. 

As you take in your homelands, you feel a twisting in your chest. You will miss it very much. You never put special thought to it before, you never considered the ties that bound you to this land, but now they tug and strangle you near to tears. This is what you know, it is what you don’t that terrifies you so much. 

You rock as noon burns high, rattled by the bumpy earth below. The grey horse hovers closer and you look up to soldier scowling down at you. You shy away and cough as dust is thrown up by the wheels. The man grumbles and steers his horse closer. You slump your shoulders down, wondering why he hovers. 

Perhaps it is your masters who cast suspicion over you. You are one of them. New allies forged in deceit. The more you think of Lord Dustan’s deception, the more uneasy you feel. You always thought the duke was at least a good lord, now, you don’t know what to think of him. 

“Aye,” something hits the cart, landing next to your feet. It’s a water skin, a thick hide strap attached to it. You peek up at the soldier and reach for it, the water swishing within. “Your summer lands are dry as ash.” 

You consider the skin before you uncork it. You pause and try to see the man through the beaming rays of midday. “Thank you, sir.” 

“Mm,” he grumbles and keeps his horse in line the end of the cart. 

You drink, not too much, just enough to sate, and you offer it back to him over the side of the wagon. He takes it and strings it back around his shoulder. You sit back, facing away from him. The horse trods on without expedience. 

The soldier is just as silent as ever. You hear some shuffling, something brushing, it is barely discernible from the leaves fluttering in the distance. There’s a nudge on your shoulder, the man holds a small bundle of cloth in his gauntlet. 

“Sir?” You crane and turn your body. You accept the handful. “Thank you.” 

He nods and sets his sights on the horizon, undeterred by the blazing sunlight. You look down and carefully unwrap the linen from around a medley of nuts and a hunk of cheese. You suspect they were taken from the castle kitchens. 

“I...” you glance over at him, “would you like some too?” 

You cradle the food towards him and his brows form a vee. He reaches beneath his mail and pulls out a stick of dried meat. He wiggles it at you and takes a bite. 

Your lips curve slightly, “thank you...” 

“You have better manners than the turn cloak’s daughter,” he bristles through his mouthful. 

You take a nut and turn it over between your fingers. You don’t know what to say to that. You nibble on the nut, crushing it between your teeth noisily. You look up and meet the soldier’s grey irises. 

“You are kind,” you gesture to the food, “not like the guards at the castle.” 

“Mm, a symptom of the summer lands, I fathom,” he mulls with a shake of his head. “Though war can make any unkind.” He pets his horses main, a thoughtless act as he speaks, “soldiers are plunderers more oft than not.” He drags his hand back and adjusts the reins, “you will not stray far when we make camp. These men have been marching for months.” 

You blink as you break off a piece of the hard cheese, “yes, sir.” 

“You understand me,” he states, not asks. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Bryce,” he says curtly. “And your name, maid?” 

You take a moment to process his request but you issue your name before tasting the bold cheese. You make a face. It is not your favourite. You often live on the dry rye bread and butter, and the chunk broth leftover from the hearty stews served to your masters. 

“Aye, I didn’t like it either,” he remarks, “let’s hope there is better fare awaiting us in the capital.” 

⚔️

Night falls and the party makes camp. You help cover the wagon with a few other servants, ready to sleep beneath the canvas with the chests of clothes and books. You sit beside the wheel in the dirty, watch the sky glitter with stars as you bask in the cool night. You’ll retire soon but the sun lingers in your skin and burns. 

Footsteps mulch towards you. You look up, expecting another servant headed for a piss in the trees. The figure is broad and stiff. You recognise Bryce before he reaches you. You stand expectantly to meet him. 

“I was only about to retire,” you assure him and turn to touch the canvas, recalling his earlier foreboding. 

“No,” he says, “your queen requires her maid.” 

You pause, “oh, yes, certainly.” 

He sighs, “she requires many things I would not put to word.” 

You flutter your lashes, not quite sure of his meaning, though his tone is sharp. Lady Jazlene does not always inspire kindness. You put your head down and turn to follow the soldier. 

Bryce walks beside you through the camp. Soldiers snore or sit and chatter, others clean their blades, and several sit around fires roasting whatever they could catch in the brush. Towards the front of the train of slumbering steeds and stalled carts, larger than the canvas on crooked poles, is a grand silk tent, glowing from within. 

Your escort stops just outside, exchanging a nod with the two soldiers standing before the flap. You can hear Jazlene’s shrill voice from within. It is too dark to make out the expressions of the guards or the man at your side. One of the soldiers pulls back the fabric to let your through. You bow your head as you enter. 

“This isn’t fair!” Jazlene roars, “I am a queen now and I will not be treated as a child!” 

You peer around, expecting another to be at the mercy of her wrath. It is only her. She rages around the space, stamping and snarling. Her skirts are stained with the dirt of the road as her steps hitch now and again. 

“I will not sit a horse again! It is not good for a lady to ride as such!” She stews, “Where is my father?” She rushes towards the door, brushing by you as she pushes through the flap, “fetch me my father, now!” 

“Get inside,” a soldier growls. 

“You do not command me! I am the queen--” 

“The king bids you stay within,” another drones without emotion. 

“Ugh, stupid men,” she retreats and swirls, her skirts swishing against you, “empty-headed soldiers! What do they do? Carry their swords and run to their deaths! I am a lady, a queen! And they speak to me as if they are above me!” 

Her rant continues as if you are not even there. Even having touched you, she has yet to notice your presence. You look around and go to the corner where a bottle sits on a crate, with a wooden cup near it. You pour the wine as the queen continues her tirade. 

“Your highness,” you offer the cup, though you avoid her harried route around the tent, “you must be tired from the road.” 

She stops short, looking at you as she pulls her chin back. You cannot tell if she is surprised or affronted by you. She huffs and stomps towards you. You steel yourself as she snatches the cup and sniffs the contents. 

“Food! I am hungry,” she snaps. 

“Yes, your highness, I will fetch something,” you assure. 

She narrows her eyes at you. Her lips slant. “Your highness, yes, you recall, I am the queen.” 

You turn and go to the entrance. You poke through and the soldier angles his spear across your path. You gulp and stay at the threshold. 

“She is hungry. Is there food?” 

“Aye, I will fetch it,” Bryce’s voice startles you as he looms in the shadows. 

You thank him before you retract back behind the silk. You stay close to the door as you wait and Jazlene slurps down the wine between furious mutters. As she reaches the bottom, she turns the cup upside down and wiggles it in your direction. It’s empty. 

You take it and refill it to the brim. The wine might calm her should she imbibe enough. Lady Rezlyn was always jollier when she had a healthy helping of red. 

As you bring it back to her, she faces you with a sneer. She glares at you and takes the cup. You stand, trapped in her distaste. You cry out as you feel something sharp on your stomach. You look down as she pinches you through your apron and twists. You clamp your jaw tight as you hold back a squeal. 

She lets you go and drinks deeply as she struts away from you. You put your hand to the sore spot and resume your place by the door. It is better than a slap, though that may still be to come. 

As you stand just inside the flap, you hear the approach of boots. The soldiers utter low words, ‘your highness’ and you barely step out of the way as the silk is drawn back. The king steps inside as you sidle away. You still as he glowers around the space, the flicker of the torch planted in the ground reflects in his golden eyes. 

“Wife, half the camp can hear your tantrum,” he says, “queen’s do not behave as chil--” 

Before he can finish his remonstrance, Jazlene is billowing towards him in her satin skirts. There’s a splash that fizzles in the air, tense silence rising as the king’s words die on his tongue. He closes his eyes against the liquid assault, wine dripping down his face and wetting his dark lashes. He sucks in a deep breath and his hands fist as Jazlene snickers cruelly and throws the cup at his chest. 

“If you treat me as a child, then I may as well act as one,” she retorts. 

The king doesn’t react. His posture is locked, his shoulders squared and his jaw set in stone. Slowly, he expels his breath and opens his eyes. Jazlene’s mocking smirk trembles and falls. 

“You are worse than a child,” he accuses and grabs her by the shoulders, “you are nothing more than a vicious cat.” 

“Get your hands off me,” she sneers as she writhes in his grasp, “unless you mean to be a husband, eh? Do you think you might prove yourself this time?” 

He growls and squeezes so she winces. She whimpers and beats on his thick arms. He walks her backwards as her feet shuffle beneath her to keep from tripping. 

“Husband, you cannot blame me for being unhappy. I have not been t-treated as a queen should--” 

“You have not earned it,” he shoves her and she lands on the stuffed mattress across the ground. “Be quiet. The camp needn’t lack sleep on your account.” 

Jazlene pouts up at him. You see the battle in her, of anger and fear. The king snarls down at her, “go to sleep.” 

She bats her lashes and pushes herself up on one elbow. She reaches to her skirts and tugs them up, “husband...” she shows her leg, “please...” 

He doesn’t move. He stares down at her for a moment then turns on his heel. He takes a step then falters. His gaze meets with yours. You quickly look down, realising then he was unaware of you. You shouldn’t have seen that. He falls back into step. 

“Do not make me return,” he barks as he shoves through the silken flap. 

[morgana-larkin]

Hi can you write a Melissa x reader with enemies to lovers, a true slow burn, and the reader only calls her ‘Schemmenti’ until the turning point where the reader finally calls her ‘Mel’? Thank you!

Hola! Here ya go! I have to say that it was fun, and I did not do an evil laugh at some point while writing this… 😏. Anyway, like I said previously, hope you’ll enjoy my period driven fics for the next week cause this one gots the smut too. (I regret nothing… I might in a week *shrugs*). Anyway, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I made a masterlist and I’m quite proud of it *does self five*. But then 5 minutes later the wifi craps out so I’ll be adding this one to it when it decides to work again as I need my laptop to do it. And if you want to be added to my taglist then let me know peeps!

Fine Line

Warnings: smut, I think there’s swearing but I’m too lazy to check

Words: 4.3k

You come storming in the break room and slam the door open, then proceed to stomp to the fridge. Melissa trails your movements and sees that you’re in a pissy mood this morning.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Melissa teases you.

You throw your lunch in the fridge and slam the door shut then go to the coffee machine.

“I don’t have the patience for you right now Schemmenti.” You snap at her. You pour the coffee in your mug.

“Are you alright dear?” Barb asks you and you sigh.

“Just a rough morning.” You tell her gently.

Melissa has always seen how both of you treat each other differently. You both have a short fuse and didn’t like each other from the start. You accidentally pissed her off one too many times during the week and you got mad and started arguing back at her. Now it’s a year later and it hasn’t changed.

Melissa eyes you and you catch it and glare at her before walking out of the break room and Melissa smiles. If Melissa was being completely honest, she doesn’t mind the little rivalry. She has fun with you and enjoys how hot you look when you’re mad at her.

You on the other hand want Melissa to just avoid you, you have no idea why she enjoys torturing you and you want her to leave you alone instead.

Melissa stops by your classroom on her way to the break room at lunch. “Have you simmered down at all?” She jokes to you and you roll your eyes.

“I have and then I see you and it goes right back up.” You retort back and Melissa smirks. “What are you doing here Schemmenti?”

“I work here.” She tells you and you huff in annoyance and glare at her.

“You know what I meant.” You snap a bit at her.

“I came to see you.” She tells you and you sigh. She likes to come see you before she goes on lunch everyday and quite frankly, today, you don’t have the patience for her. So you stand up and walk towards the door. Melissa sees you walking over and she unconsciously licks her lips.

“I already told you that I don’t have the patience today for you Schemmenti.” You tell her, then slam the door in her face and lock it. Melissa huffs then defeated, she walks to the break room. Melissa likes talking to you, she just doesn’t know how to without making you annoyed at her. She already admitted to herself that she has a crush on you and she wants you to see her as more than a rival and more than a friend too.

“How do I talk to y/n without her getting mad at me?” Melissa asks Barb in the break room and Barb is stunned by the question. She thought that you and Melissa were gonna wanna keep this rivalry forever.

“Why?” Barb asks.

“Because I want to try and be friends with her instead of enemies.” Melissa says and leans back and crosses her arms.

“Well you could start with not insulting and teasing her.” Barb starts.

“Everytime I try it seems like I just annoy her. Like she thinks I’m joking or playing with her mind.” Melissa says.

“Well you did get mad at her everyday for her first 2 weeks.” Barb reminds her. “Maybe start with an apology.” Melissa sighs, it’s worth a try and she stands up, grabs her lunchbox and yours from the fridge, then walks to your classroom.

When she gets to your door, she stands in front of it for a moment then knocks. You answer it a few seconds later, when you see Melissa there you go to close it again but she stops it with her foot. “I brought your lunch for you.” She tells you and holds up your lunchbox. You open the door and stare at her confused.

“Why?” You ask.

“Because it’s lunchtime and you should eat.” She simply tells you.

“Did you do something to it?” You ask and Melissa huffs.

“No, because I’m not 12.” She tells you and hands you your lunchbox. You take it and just stare at her confused. Melissa then walks to her classroom and continues to eat her lunch while grading some tests.

There’s a knock at her door and she gives a ‘come in’. She finishes grading the question and finally looks up and sees you standing there, looking at her curiously. “Yes?” She asks and you sigh.

“Why were you being nice to me?” You ask her and she drops her pen on her desk and lifts her glasses up to the top of her head.

“I just brought you your lunch, that’s all.” She tells you.

“But why?”

“Because you’re having a rough morning and you’d have an even worse day if you didn’t eat.” She tells you.

“And that’s all?” You ask her.

“Ya.” She says and you turn to leave but glance back at her.

“Thank you.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“You’re welcome hon.” She tells you and you close her door and leave to your classroom.

Melissa smiles after you leave. That’s the first normal conversation she’s had with you and you even thanked her. She thinks maybe now you won’t take everything she says the wrong way. When she thinks back on that thought, she thinks that it’s nice to have dreams.

You walk into the break room the next day in a better mood than yesterday and Melissa looks up and smiles at you.

“Morning.” She tells you and you look at her confused.

“What do you want Schemmenti?” You ask her and she sighs.

“Nothing, just saying morning to you.” She tells you and you eye her suspiciously but then continue with what you were doing.

After you leave the break room, Melissa sighs. “Everytime.” Melissa mutters.

“Wow, she really does take everything you say the wrong way.” Barb says beside her and she turns and glares at Barb.

“Really? I didn’t notice.” Melissa says sarcastically but Barb just smiles.

“Just because you brought her lunch one time doesn’t mean that reverses a year of rivalry.” Barb tells her and Melissa sighs then gets an idea and smiles. “What did you just think of?” Barb asks cautiously.

“That maybe I could bring her lunch more often, as in something that I made. No one says no to anything I make.” She says proudly and Barb looks at her sceptically. Barb then prays that this doesn’t end badly.

The next day, Melissa brings an extra lunch for you. You stay in your classroom during lunch again. You end up staying in your classroom during lunch quite often, mostly to avoid Melissa. You start to think you should pack food that doesn’t need to be refrigerated and keep your lunchbox with you in your classroom. You’re grading one of your students' homework when there’s a knock on your door. “Come in.” You say and finish what you’re writing then look up. Melissa is there with a smile on her face.

“Hi.” She says

“I was starting to think you forgot about me, bummer.” You tell her and her smile doesn’t falter. “What are you doing her Schemmenti?” You ask and she walks up to you.

“I brought you lunch.” She says and you look and don’t see your lunchbox.

“Then why isn’t my lunchbox with you?” You ask her.

“Because I didn’t bring your lunch to you. I brought something I made for you.” She tells you and you look at her surprised.

“What?” You deadpan.

“I made food last night, and brought some leftovers for you.” She says.

“Why?”

“Because I did.” She says and sets the food on your desk.

“I don’t want it.” You tell her.

“No one ever says no to anything I make.” She tells you.

“Well I’m saying no to you now.” You tell her.

“That’s because you haven’t tried it yet.” She tells you and crosses her arms.

“If I try it and still say I don’t want it then will you go away?” You ask and she nods. Reluctantly you sigh and take a bite. You go tell her to now leave then it hits your tastebuds and you freeze. It was good, like really good, the best food you’ve tasted. And now you reluctantly tell her no to the food and tell her to leave. “There, I tasted it and I’m still telling you to leave.” You say and she looks at you unconvinced.

“I saw you hesitate, you love it.” She tells you and you know you’ll have to admit you do like it but don’t want it here.

“Ok it was probably the best thing I ever tasted but I don’t want it or you here.” You tell her and she looks offended.

“Why?” She asks.

“Because in case it escaped you, I don’t like you and you don’t like me. We’ve been enemies since I got here since I was an easy target for you. So now, please leave.” You tell her and she looks defeated but takes her food and leaves.

You think she’d give up but she doesn’t, she’s very stubborn, but so are you. She brings you lunch for a week before you finally blow up at her.

“Brought you lunch again hon. Maybe you’ll actually have it today.” She tells you and you sigh and rub a hand on your temple. She walks in and your anger that’s been building all week finally lets go.

“MELISSA WILL YOU PLEASE STOP!” You say and she freezes. “I don’t want anything you make! What I do want is for you to leave me alone. Forever!” You say and she actually looks upset which catches you off guard but still stick to what you want. “I don’t want you to talk to me or to bring me food ever again. We’re co workers, nothing more.” You tell her and she lets out a huff then snatches her food.

“Fine.” She snips and starts walking out of your classroom. “Try to be nice and this is what I get.” She mutters. You hear it and you’re confused. She was trying to be nice? Wtf?

A month goes by and to your surprise, Melissa does leave you alone. She doesn’t even look your way anymore. She pretends you don’t exist and for the first week you actually like it. Then the second week hits and it turns out you miss the rivalry you had with the redhead. You keep glancing at her throughout the week and she keeps feeling like she’s being watched and looks up and you look away quickly. If Melissa ever catches you staring at her then she doesn’t comment on it.

After a month, you go to talk to her. You both have a prep second period so you go and knock on her door. “Come in.” You hear and you enter.

She glances up to see who it is and she does a double take. “What do you want?” She says with a bit of anger and sadness lacing it.

You close the door then turn around and face her. You don’t seem annoyed, she thinks, more frustrated about something.

“Did you mean what you said a month ago?” You ask and she quirks an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to be more specific. I said a lot of things a month ago.” She says and you walk over and sit on one of the students desks.

“That you were trying to be nice.” You say and she looks stunned.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” She says.

“So it was true? You were trying to be nice?” You ask and she rubs her temple and nods.

“But why? You have been nothing but mean to me since I got here.” You state.

“I know.” She says. “At first it seemed like you just did everything wrong to make me mad but then I realised you didn’t know what you were doing and I was gonna stop but I found it a bit amusing to see your annoyed reactions. Then I wanted to stop fully 6 months later but you keep taking everything I say wrong. And I can’t say I blame you.” She says and you look at her stunned.

“What exactly are you saying Schemmenti?” You say and she quirks an eyebrow.

“You know last time you spoke to me, you called me Melissa.” She says and you look at her confused.

“I did?”

“You were telling me to get the fuck out and leave you alone but ya, you called me Melissa.” She says and you roll your eyes.

“Obviously an accident.” You tell her and she rolls her eyes at you.

“Well I don’t know about you but I want to put the whole rivalry to an end and maybe actually get to know each other.” She tells you and you look at her stunned.

“You do?” You ask and she nods. “You mean you don’t want to annoy each other again?” You ask and she quirks an eyebrow again at you.

“Obviously we still will but more friendly this time. That’s if you want to possibly become friends.” She says cautiously and you smile.

“I think that could happen.” You tell her and you get off the desk. “Well I gotta get back and finish some grading or my students might revolt as I’m apparently taking too long to grade the tests, like I got nothing else to do.” You say dramatically and she giggles.

“Hey y/n.” She says and you look at her. “I’m sorry for how I treated you when you got here.” She tells you genuinely and you smile.

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry for how I treated you too.” You tell her.

“It’s alright, I would have reacted the same if I had someone being mad at me everyday.” She jokes and you laugh. You go to leave then glance back at her when you reach the doorway.

“See you around Melissa.” You tell her and she freezes and looks at you stunned. You smile at her and she smiles back at you.

“See ya around y/n.” She tells you. You nod, tap the doorway once and then leave. And for the first time in a month, Melissa feels hope with you.

A week goes by and you and Melissa stay true to your word. Everytime you enter the break room, she says good morning to you and you say it back to her. Barb looked at you guys suspiciously for a second, thinking she heard you both wrong. But after glancing at the trio, she realised she heard you both correctly, if the trio’s shocked expressions are anything to go by.

You come in at lunch everyday and you mostly go to the table and couch and do some work there while you eat. On Monday of the third week of you two getting along, she brought you a coffee while you did your work during lunch. You look up and smile and thank her.

“Whatcha working on hon?” She asks you and glances at your paper.

“Descriptions of their hero.” You tell her and you hand her the one you were grading.

“This is cute.” She says and hands it back to you.

“Ya, most of them chose their parents or a celebrity. But I got concerned when I read this one.” You tell her and hand her one of them. She reads it then laughs after a minute.

“I think this little one is on the right path to be a little Wednesday Addams.” She tells you and you laugh.

“Maybe that’s their goal.” You joke with her. And neither of you notice but everyone is looking at you two shocked.

When it comes to a month of you two actually being nice to each other, you realise you have feelings for her and you get annoyed at yourself. You just became friendly with her and now feelings had to get involved. The thing you have to realise is, is that there is a fine line between love and hate.

You start to ignore her a little bit, in the hopes of your feelings going away. They don’t though. And to make it worse, Melissa notices the change in how you treat her. She comes in your classroom during both your prep, without knocking , after a week of you ignoring her a bit.

“What’s going on with you?” She questions right away.

“Well hello to you too.” You joke.

“Hi.” She says and then sighs. “Now what is going on with you?” She repeats.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“What do I mean.” She says with a chuckle and huffs. “I mean, why do you sometimes ignore me?” She asks and you sigh.

“I’m not.” You say and honestly, you don’t even believe yourself. Melissa crosses her arms and that unintentionally lifts her chest up a bit and you stare at her chest. She catches on to you staring and looks down to what you’re looking at. She looks back up, confused, until she puts the pieces together and she smirks.

“Why are you staring at my chest?” She asks and you snap out of your trance.

“What?” You ask and she walks towards you until she’s right in front of you.

“I said, why are you staring at my chest?” She repeats and you gulp.

“I- I wasn’t.” You say and she leans down and puts her hands on the arms of your chair, effectively giving you a view of right down her shirt. And you try to not stare at it, but the view of it is just too good not to stare.

“Do you like me y/n?” She asks you and you look up at her eyes. You see the curiosity and hope in them.

“I do ya.” You tell her and look down at your lap. She puts a finger under your chin and forces you to look back up.

“I like ya too hon.” She tells you and your jaw drops. She smiles warmly at you then closes your mouth with the finger still under your chin. Then she leans in and kisses you and your brain shuts down. She pulls back after a second and sees your reaction and laughs. “Did I make you short circuit?” She teases you and you stare. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She tells you and you snap of your very deep trance.

“What?” You ask and she giggles.

“I made you short circuit didn’t I?” She repeats and you nod embarrassed. “No need to be embarrassed, it actually makes me happy I have that kind of effect on someone.” She tells you.

“Mel, you’re stunning, of course you have that kind of effect.” You tell her dramatically.

“Oh I’m stunning am I?” She asks you and you nod. “And you called me Mel.” She says and your eyes widen.

“Sorry Melissa.” You tell her.

“No, go back to Mel. I like it.” She tells you and you blush. You still have the view of down her shirt and you rub your thighs together. She notices and she smirks. She then casually sits on your lap with her legs on the sides of the chair and kisses you. You kiss her back this time and she smiles in the kiss. She makes out with you for about 5 minutes then you buck your hips and she pulls back and stands up and you whine. “Patience you. How about you come back to my place after?” She says and you nod with a smile. “Perfect now, hand me your phone.” She says and holds her hand out. You give her a confused look and she smiles. “So I can give you my number.” She tells you and you scramble to get your phone out and then give it to her. She giggles as she takes it then puts her number in and texts herself. “Great, now we have each other’s numbers. See ya tonight.” She tells you with a wink then hands you your phone back then turns and leaves.

She gets a text from you not 5 minutes later.

You: was your plan for me to not be able to concentrate the rest of the day?

Mel: Possibly

Mel: Did it work?

You: Possibly

Mel: see you tonight right after school.

Mel: *sends address*

You: can’t wait

Mel: don’t touch yourself! I know I left ya hot and bothered

You: Ffs

Melissa smiles at that then you both continue out the day. Of course she can’t resist teasing you. Like sending you winks whenever she sees you, touching your thigh when she comes to join you on the couch during lunch, pressing you up against the wall during… oh wait, that last one was in your daydream.

When you get to her place though, that daydream comes true. As soon as you walk in through the door, she closes it, slams you against it and kisses you roughly. She then trails down to your neck and immediately sucks it. You think she’s trying to be quick about this with the pace and intensity she’s doing it at.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of doing this with you.” She says between kisses on your neck.

“How long?” You ask curiously and out of breath.

“About 6 months.” She says and you gasp, from shock of her answer and pleasure of her sucking your neck again. She then pulls your top off and inclips your bra then taking that off of you. She stares at you with a smile then cups your breasts and leans in to you. “6 months I’ve held off wanting to kiss you.” She says and starts moving her hands in a circle, causing your breasts to move a bit and your nipples get played with at the same time. “Now that I have you, I’m not holding back. Especially since you were ignoring me for a week.” She tells you and you groan.

“It’s because I realised my feelings for you, and we just started to be friends and I thought if I ignored you, my feelings would go away. But they didn’t.” You tell her and she smirks.

“I don’t care for the reason Bella. Just know that you’ll get properly punished.” She tells you with a low pitched voice and you shiver. While you were distracted, she pulls down your pants and underwear at the same time, you step out of them and she spreads your legs. You finally clue in to what she’s about to do. “Mel, shouldn’t we go to your be-.” And what you were about to say was cut off with a gasp from you as she goes and sucks your clit hard, right away. You get close to an orgasm and you hold on to her head and lean against the wall so you don’t fall down. but once you come, you collapse. Luckily she catches you as she knew you’d fall. She then picks you up and carries you to her bedroom and places you on the bed with a pillow under your head. You’re still blissed from your orgasm that you don’t realise that she’s out of view until she comes back. You look and your brain shuts down again. She comes back completely naked and wearing a strap.

She crawls on the bed and kisses your lips, you taste yourself on her and you moan. While kissing you, she grabs the strap and gently slides it in through your entrance and you squeak into the kiss. She gives you a second to adjust then she goes and moves in and out of you quickly and hard. You start gasping and moaning and she does check in with you. “Is this ok?” She asks and you nod.

“Yes, ple-please d-don’t stop!” You tell her and she smiles. She puts one of your nipples in her mouth and you come again 20 seconds later. She doesn’t stop though and you’re over sensitive as you already came twice.

“I still have to come baby.” She tells you and you whine. You end up coming again and then she comes right after. She stops immediately and leans her head on your shoulder and catches her breath. Then she pulls out of you gently and flops over beside you on her back. She takes the strap off and grabs the Kleenex on her nightstand. She cleans both of you then spoons you. You shift so that you’re on your side so you can spoon properly. She leans up a bit and kisses your forehead then lays back down and pulls you in closer to her.

“I really enjoyed that.” You tell her and she giggles.

“Good, I’m glad.” She says and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Didn’t know you’d be so intense.” You tell her and she laughs.

“Well I guess a week of being ignored would do that.” She says and you laugh. You turn around in her arms so that you’re face to face and she smiles at you. “Hi beautiful.” She tells you.

You smile back at her. “Hi Mel.” You say. “This wasn’t a one time thing right?” You ask cautiously.

“Of course not. I want to do it again. For as long as you’ll have me.” She tells you and you smile.

“Well I guess unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me.” You tell her teasingly.

“Oh, I’m so unlucky that I have to wake up to this beautiful face every morning.” She says and boops your nose and you giggle. You then nuzzle into her neck and fall asleep. She wraps an arm protectively around you and falls asleep as well.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @imaginesmultifandoms @idonothingalldays-blog @sexysapphicshopowner @dvrkhcld @lilfartbox1

Let me know if you want to be added!

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my Reader description vague but she's a she and above average height

Here goes nothing

Chapter 1

Warnings: Swearing, mostly angst, eventual happy ending.

Y/N, or Cookie to her friends, was at her desk, trying to finish her report so she could leave work early for one of Tony Stark's parties. This wasn't her first time but tonight her bff and mostly secret crush, Bucky Barnes, was escorting her. It wasn't the first time for that either but tonight felt different. Usually they met at the elevator but when they spoke earlier he said he would pick her up at her room. They had been getting closer in the last few months and even Steve and Sam had commented about Bucky's behavior towards her.

The night was everything she had dreamed, Bucky was attentive and always had his hands on her, respectfully of course but more intimate than he usually was. They danced much of the night and when slow songs came on he pulled her close and she could feel his breath on her neck, causing chills.

Towards the end of the night, Bucky pulled her to the elevator and kissed her until they reached his floor. They were in his room, her dress gone before she could think twice, not that she would have.

She could taste the Asgardian ale on his breath, blending with the tequila on hers. Everything was a blur of flesh and feelings she had never experienced before. She couldn't get enough, neither could he.

Y/N opened her eyes to bright light and a bedroom that wasn't hers. The pounding in her head a reminder of how much she drank last night. She looked around and realized it was Bucky's room, where she spent so much of her time. Suddenly, she realized that she was naked and her stomach dropped. She had hazy memories of shots and kisses that turned into more. The kiss in the elevator. She smiled even though her head hurt, she had been crushing on Bucky since the day they met and was amazed that he actually wanted her too.

Cookie wasn't your typical beauty, taller than most girls and with more curves than your typical agent. Of course, she wasn't a field agent but was the lead intelligence analyst on the east coast reporting directly to Maria Hill.

She reached over to find his side of the bed was cool but figured he must have gone on his morning run with Steve and Sam. She sat up and saw a bottle of water next to some pain killers, which she downed, grateful that Bucky was so thoughtful. Drinking the entire bottle of water she realized she really needed to pee. Standing slowly so as not to irritate her headache she grabbed one of Bucky's t-shirts to cover herself and went to relieve herself. When she was done she went back to sit up in bed and check her emails for today's agenda.

When she was responding to a message from Maria Hill the suite door opened and Bucky came in, sweaty and gorgeous. He saw her curled up on his bed and smiling up at him.

"Morning Buck. Good run?"

He nodded and smirked "Yeah, Sam whined at us to wait up but we just lapped him until he shut up"

"Sounds fun. Since it's Sunday and nothing is scheduled, why don't you take a shower and come back to bed?"

Bucky felt his heart stop "Look doll about last night. You know you're one of my best friends and I love you but I don't feel comfortable getting into a real relationship right now. I still have so much work to do on myself. Last night was great and I was thinking we could have one of those friends with extras, or whatever it's called. You know, to blow off steam."

Her stomach dropped and she felt her eyes filling up "You mean friends with benefits?"

He nodded enthusiastically "Yeah, that's it." he smiled hopefully.

Y/N was quiet for a minute before responding, was it worth the almost guaranteed heartbreak to have more nights like last night? She shook her head, unwilling to take that risk again.

"I'm sorry Buck but I can't do that. I get attached and end up heartbroken. I can't sleep with people that I don't have romantic feelings for."

His eyes grew wide "Wait, that means you have feelings...." He trailed off.

She nodded whispering "Yeah, I do."

Bucky's face dropped "Shit, Cookie, I'm sorry. I thought we were on the same page last night. I don't know what to say. I mean, I might develop feelings over time but I don't know. I don't want to make any promises, you know?"

She swallowed the sob that tried to escape "You don't have to say anything, we can just pretend this never happened. Ok?"

She got up from the bed, clutching the sheet to her and desperately searching for her dress from last night. When she found it she quickly put it on not realizing it was inside out.

He nodded but wasn't feeling too sure of that, he could hear her heart speed up and see her hands shaking "Yeah, sure, nothing has to change."

She smiled at him sadly, tears escaping "I uh I just remembered some paperwork I needed to finish up. I'll catch you later."

"Wait doll. I-"

"Don't worry it's fine." She cleared her throat "I could use a little space and just have work to do." She kissed him on the cheek before rushing out.

Bucky stood there, not sure how to proceed. He didn't want to lose his friend but really didn't feel like he could handle a relationship now. The stress relief from the great sex they had was something he could handle and he did have feelings for her, since the day he arrived at the compound but he knew she deserved a better man than him.

**Flashback**

Y/N was in her office reviewing some reports to glean even the smallest details before they went to the appropriate briefing packets that the field agents would use to form their strategy, when she received a text from Captain America himself, requesting her presence in the common area.

She put away all of the classified info on her desk, locked it and locked the door on her way out. She took the elevator which opened into the common area and was surprised to see a large group of agents already there.

She heard Steve shout her name "Cookie! Over here." and saw his hand waving so headed in his direction.

Steve gave her a hug and pulled away excitedly "Look Cookie, it's my friend, Bucky."

Cookie smiled and offered her hand. When Bucky looked at her she felt her breath catch, holy shit was he gorgeous, way hotter than the pictures in his file "Pleased to meetcha Sargent Barnes"

Both of them felt sparks when they touched but Bucky responded like she had burned him pulling away quickly. Cookie's smile dropped for a second before she forced it back.

Bucky looked at her through his long hair "You too, ma'am."

She could see how he was shrinking into himself, trying to look smaller so she stepped back to give him space.

Steve looked at them both oddly but smiled softly when he heard how fast her heart was beating and the slight blush on Bucky's face. That was a look he remembered from so many years ago, when Bucky met Dot.

**end flashback**

The next few weeks were tense, Y/N and Bucky barely spoke outside of Avengers business. He was always busy, rushing to train or something every time she tried to talk to him. The guilt on his face showed everything, he hated that he hurt her but missed their time together. As soon as he saw her look at him longingly, before she realized he was looking and wiped that look from her face, he had to leave. He hated himself because he knew it hurt her more every time he avoided her but he just couldn't handle seeing her and being reminded of the pain he caused.

There were other, senior agents being trained by Steve, with Bucky and Sam, to prepare for an upcoming mission. Sifting through all the related Intel was keeping Y/N up at night and her haggard appearance had been noticed by most of the team.

They had a meeting to start going over the Intel to plan their strategy. On her way in, Y/N ran into Sharon Carter who she had worked with previously.

"Hey Agent Carter, good to see you."

Sharon laughed softly "Please, Y/N, we've worked together enough for you to call me Sharon."

Y/N laughed awkwardly "Um yeah, Sharon. So how have you been? Any luck finding the power broker?"

Sharon shook her head obviously frustrated "No, he's crafty for sure but we'll get him. Rumor is this mission relates to him."

Y/N nodded, "yeah, all of the serious crime in eastern Europe seem to lead back to him." She looked up and saw Nick Fury striding towards them and straightened her shoulders "Director Fury."

He nodded at her "Agent Y/L/N. Carter. Why don't we get this started, Cookie." He looked down at the container on top of her papers.

Y/N went to the front of the room to sit next to Fury's spot at the head of the table, setting the container in his place. She saw that Sharon sat next to Bucky and started talking to him, touching his right arm and laughing softly. Y/N saw Bucky smiling and felt her chest ache, her stomach cramp up and her throat dried since apparently all the water went to her eyes. She sat down and Sam, the only one who knew what happened with her and Bucky, gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand.

They held hands through the entire meeting, Bucky and Sharon touching hands under the table. He never liked people touching him except for Y/N but apparently he made an exception for Sharon because he just sat smiling. He never even looked towards Y/N.

When the meeting ended, Bucky and Sharon were the first ones out the door as he quickly led her to his room.

Y/N could barely breathe and rushed to her own room, glad it was on a different floor from Bucky's because she didn't think she could handle hearing him and Sharon go at it.

For the next couple of months it went like that. Bucky and Sharon spending most of their time in his room and Y/N trying to stay busy so she didn't think about it. They were hands off outside of his room and insisted they were just friends when Sam mentioned they were always together. Bucky heard Sam grumble about how Y/N used to be the one he wanted to hang out with, but blew it off. Nothing wrong with having a couple of friends. And Y/N didn't want a casual relationship while Sharon was down for everything and was teaching Bucky a lot.

Sharon was friendly with Cookie in the beginning but started being nasty to Y/N, calling her names and throwing out barely veiled insults when Bucky wasn't around, and did everything she could to keep them apart. Not that Bucky ever seemed to notice, too wrapped up in the constant sex to see much else. Even at team functions Sharon worked to keep her away from Bucky, so much that Y/N just avoided the both of them when at all possible.

Y/N was depressed and missing her friend. She had lost weight and had dark circles under her eyes which she claimed were from working all hours. Time wasn't helping at all, she still had dreams about that night and felt an ache in her chest every time she saw Bucky. A couple of times he tried to talk to her, invite her for the movies nites that she never attended anymore but Sharon always started whining for him and Y/N took the hint and made excuses that she had paperwork or needed sleep, anything to avoid them.

Bucky, Sam and Sharon were offsite for a few days so Y/N could pour herself into work and not worry about running into them.

Late one night she was talking to one of her informants in Latvia and the connection was weak. She claimed to have the details on the Power Broker but static kept interfering with the connection.

Y/N heard banging

"Marta?! Marta are you ok? What's going on?"

There was more banging and a clicking noise then she heard Marta crying and begging.

A muffled womans voice came on the line "You better back off of the Power Broker or you will regret it"

Y/N was pissed "Who the Hell is this? Where's Marta? What did-" she heard a gunshot and the crying stopped.

The voice chuckled "She's unavailable and if you don't wise up, you will be too."

The call disconnected.

Y/N had tears in her eyes. She had met Marta a few years back, she had kids, a family. Now Y/N took that weight and swore to whoever was listening that she would make sure the Power Broker paid for this on top of all the other death and destruction.

Y/N refused to stop and eventually passed out on her laptop. She woke to a loud knocking "Y/N you in there? Fury got a package and wants you in his office 20 minutes ago."

Y/N sighed, Maria Hill. "I'll be down asap."

15 minutes later she was out of breath on her way into his office. "Cookie, there you are. I don't know who sent this but both of our names were on it so I'm hoping you know what's up."

Y/N looked over the package, Latvian stamp no return address. She sighed "Looks like it's from one of my informants in Latvia. I was on the phone with her last nite when she was shot. And a distorted womans voice told me to back off of the Power Broker or I'd be next."

Fury nodded "Alright well let's see what she had."

Y/N carefully opened the package which included a large white envelope that felt like it was full of pictures and a zip lock with a post-it that said 'fingerprints'.

Fury called an intern in to take the prints for processing as Y/N pulled out a stack of pictures. Her jaw dropped as her heart sped up and she began to shake. There was one thing the pictures all had in common......

Sharon fucking Carter.

Chapter 2

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere(?) Jing Yuan

MY HUSBAND ✨

A little warning though. I quit playing HSR after 2.something. I don't remember. But it's because my devices can't handle it anymore :( at least I got Jing Yuan before I deleted the game. So I am probably going to put some wrong information here. Especially the timeline. Forgive me! Also,I lied. I'm not making this fic NSFW. Have some not so good angst LMAO Of course, there's spoilers so... Spoiler alert! Notes: Highly OOC Jing Yuan. He's a lonely man fr fr. Also, an extra long fic as an apology for disappearing like that lol. Also, not even sure if this counts as yandere. But just to be safe, i'm putting it here. So, dead dove, do not eat.

Being a long time trailblazer from the Astral Express made you develop quite the wanderlust in you.

You were originally from Xianzhou. A spoiled kid of a rich family that decided to embrace the free life when the Astral Express first visited your planet.

You developed a strong friendship with Himeko and Welt, alongside treating Dan Heng and March as your little siblings/children.

When Stelle arrived in the Astral Express, it seems that your little family is complete. Sure, Stelle may be a little gremlin with a Stellaron inside, but hey. Family is family.

When the talks of going to Xianzhou appeared, you volunteered to guide Stelle and March around alongside Welt. You did miss your family, and wanted to prove that you weren't the same immature person before.

Well, you know what happened next.

The wharf being abandoned, littered with mara struck soldiers...

It seems that Xianzhou became worse for wear.

Fearing for the worst, you urged the three to follow you and defeated the Mara stricken soldiers in such precision.

Seriously. You follow Nihility since you want to be more laid back in your life. But why does life keep forcing lemons down your throat? Now, it's even your family being dragged in your bad luck!

You got dragged by the three around until you all got to the square, and immediately bade goodbye for the time being. Promising to help them as soon as they need to. For now, you need to get back to your family.

Once you got to the manor, you burst through the door and was immediately smacked to shit by your parents.

"YOU PRODIGAL CHILD! NOW YOU COME BACK HOME?! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE..."

A nagfest, you took in their worry filled words with a sharp edge before calming them down. You asked if any in your family have been mara stricken, but all of them shook their head thankfully enough.

Then, you noticed a man by the tea room. It seems that your parents forgot etiquette and abandoned their guest.

"AH! Forgive us, General! It's just this child... Oooh this child!"

You took a peak and was stunned.

Jing Yuan. The guy whose family is from the Realm-Keeping Commissions? And he's the general now? That's...

"You remember Yuan-yuan, right? Y/N'er?"

Oh you remember alright. How can you not? You loved this man a lot.

You squirmed under Jing Yuan's golden gaze that's filled with an unreadable emotion that you're sure had to do with your past.

And the past is what he desperately holds onto up to this day...

"General! The astral express--"

Jing Yuan's usual relaxed demeanor stiffened, his eyes going rigid. If one looks close, the chess piece he's holding onto cracked, making it glitch.

His face softener a bit as to not scare Yanqing more who stepped back a bit.

"Is that so? Thank you for the information, Yanqing. You can go rest now."

The kid nodded before walking away and leaving Jing Yuan alone.

His world, once so bleak and dry, suddenly had a drop of rain that he once missed and took advantage of, thinking it won't go away.

"Y/N..." He whispered to himself, putting down the piece and washing his face with his palm.

Other than Jing Liu and the others, you were one of the few people he's close to. Ever since you both were in the academy, you've always didn't like his quite stubborn nature. He didn't like his academic strand, wanting to be a cloud knight.

He noticed you pulling a face whenever he cuts classes, sleeps, loafs around... Sure, you were spoiled to bits, but at least you have the decency to be good in school.

So, he made it a point to annoy you greatly. Always popping around the block wherever you were, following you while talking your ear off... Doesn't help that he's a classmate, it's a daily annoyance that you gradually welcomed over time.

It's a friendship born from being together all the time. You watch him train with Jing Liu, taught him stuff he didn't understand, and in return, he would teach you how to fend for yourself since you always told him you wanted to travel the galaxy.

And that friendship developed into something more intimate. Exchanging shy giggles, flirty whispers, firsts of everything... Even without a label other than lovers, you both knew that you two are destined and tied together. Soulmates, if you will.

He's happy that you were by his side. With the quintet and you, how much more happiness does he need in his life?

But sometimes, so much happiness meant that there will be a terrible thing happening the next day.

Fortunately for you, you left Xianzhou before the Baiheng incident in the process of saving the Xianzhou Yuque. It was a timely flight that Jing Yuan supported so that you will be safe from the chaos that will unfold.

Unfortunately for Jing Yuan though, he paid the price of seeing his friends fall one by one.

Baifeng, sacrificing herself when fighting Shuhu, Dan Feng creating a draconic abomination in the process of trying to ressurect Baifeng and solving the Vidyadhara reproduction problem, Yingxing being backfired and becoming immortal stricken with mara, and JIng Liu, also struck with mara.

He watches as his beloved quintet crumble to dust in such a short time, even defeating his own beloved master in order to save so many lives and bring justice to those lost.

Jing Yuan had no one. No one to turn to, no one to confide in.

In times like those, what he yearned is you. For you to return, for you to look at him with so much grief, concern, and care.

All he wanted is your hug, your reassurance that it wasn't his fault, and it wasn't his burden to carry.

But you didn't return. Not even a peep, not even a soul.

700 long years of waiting, of bottling up his emotions that it almost spilt over.

Sure, he's happier now, but is he truly happy?

Deep inside, he kind of resented you for being so blissfully unaware of what happened to him. Of what happened to the quintet. You never even contacted him in those 700 years. Did you just forget your relationship just like that? Did you move on from him? He thought both of you were together forever?

Then slowly, he got jealous. Of you, at first. Just travelling across the galaxies without a worry in the world. How selfish of you to just run off to the farflungs of the universe just to never contact him again. Shame on you. He's a worried lover! How can he not? Then, he got jealous of the people that you must have met. How much were they charming you that you forgot about him, your soulmate?

He started visiting your family in year 300 too. Consoling them and telling that you were gonna go back home. When? Soon. Like really soon.

He found solace in your family that started treating him as their own son. Taking care of him when he visits, entertaining him with a game of chess, maybe even talk about their life.

He also heard more stories about you. About your spoiled attitude outside of school, of your rebellious years, of your wants and needs to see the outside. It's as if he's living vicariously through your parents, and relieving your memories in order to not forget you.

Then, he starts yearning for your presence once more after just trying to forget you.

It's a never ending addictive cycle that he's lost in the deep trenches in.

You were the only constant in this godforsaken world, the wine he yearns to drown himself in in order to forget his problems. But his problem is the wine, his problem is you. But the alcoholic he is, he continue to guzzle down the addictive taste until reality blurs with fantasy. In which a picture perfect world existed were nothing went wrong, and you were still there back in his arms.

Over the years, he somehow got over it. Turned to tea, thought about stuff. But your family reminded him so much of you and told so much stories of you that he became so attached to the idea of you.

He started a little hobby of writing letters to your non-existent being. Thinking you'll read them in the future. He refuses to believe that you're dead and rotting in a ditch somewhere. He knows that you're alive. He knows it.

He wrote down what he wishes to tell you, on what he wanted to do with you once you come back like a little drink, maybe even roam around and show you what Xianzhou looks like after 700 years.

Then, it devolved into his frustrations, anger, jealousy, and grief about what happened in those measly years. On why he wanted to have you so bad with him, to have the only remaining friend with him by his side. He wants to cling to you, to finally have a full on restful sleep, but also yell at you for leaving him behind.

He thought of the people that made you forget him. Of the people that took you away from him. Yes, they may, no, they ARE the reason why you weren't returning home. They must be.

He knows he's wrong. And he's working on it. A few letters down the road had him apologizing, telling he's in the wrong, and started writing about what to do once you come back.

Until those letters carried a weight that he's thinking of.

What will happen if you decided to stay in Xianzhou this time?

What will happen if something or someone made you stay?

What if, Jing Yuan forced you stay?

An absurd idea, but those letters quickly became a drawn out plan on what he'll do to make you stay by him, by his side. Eternally until the end of both of your lifespans.

And those letters were now safely kept in his hand. They will not see the light of the day.

The time he knew that the Astral Express came to their wharf, with Yanqing telling him, he immediately ran to Fu Xuan to know who are the passengers of the train that stepped out to help.

And there you are. You chose the path of Nihility. Fitting for a person like you who wished for everything, yet nothing. A spoiled kid who only wanted meaningless vices and thrills to fill the void inside. You grew up so much just as him.

What is this feeling inside? Relief? Resentment? Guilt? Love?

Woah, love? Really? Does he really still feel love for you? Or is that just a byproduct of the putrid mix of emotions inside of him?

He always knew his feelings for you never disappeared. It was supposed to be just a harmless puppy love that is forgotten over time. Like come on, it's been seven centuries.

But seeing you there, with your mother still nagging you, and your eyes locked onto him with an excited, naive look on your face made those forgotten emotions resurface.

And unfortunately, became an unfortunate ingredient in the rancid pot of emotions he bottled up over the years.

The General, known for being laid back and relaxed, can feel that image slowly crack and crumble every step you take towards him with a smile on your face.

It's so painful. How can you have that sweet smile on your face while he had to endure so much guilt and pain that he doesn't deserve to undergo?

What's worse is that your smile was lifting so much off of his shoulders to the point that he wants to drag those problems back to his shoulders and stubbornly hold onto them just to prove you a point.

He can't believe you had so much power over him. It's driving him insane how your mere presence shook the centuries worth of healing that he did for himself.

The conflicting thoughts started to whirl in his head.

He wants you to stay, but he wants you to disappear now that you're actually here.

In those mere seconds, he composed himself and gave you a soft smile. A smile that usually had a lazy quality in them now looks rigid.

"Y/N, my love. How are you? It's been seven centuries!" Calm and composed. That's what he wishes his voice sounds like.

You, sweet, oblivious you, hugged him with such a smile on your face. After all, Jing Yuan was your lover. And you hoped that he didn't hate you that much from not communicating.

"Yuan! I'm so glad I met you here again! Wow... You're a general now! How cool is that?!"

Your excited voice grated his ears to the point that he wants to cover it vehemently, but he also wants to get a hold of it and hear it over and over again. Reassuring himself that you're actually here in the flesh with him and not just a figment of his fractured reality.

With a smile, you grabbed his hand and got out of your parents' manor, wanting to apologize to Yuan by catching up.

Are you really that insensitive? Such naive thinking that by only talking things out, the problem will be resolved. Well, in your defense, you didn't know what happened with JIng Yuan and the quintet. All you knew is that they grew apart from the looks of it.

You didn't undergo the same traumatic experience that Jing Yuan did, the agonizing isolation, the years of waiting for that somebody to come home, and your mental health devolving into something more sinister, something that crosses with your logic multiple times.

But here you are, flashing your carefree smile at the dying Jing Yuan who squeezed out a chuckle.

He wishes that you burn in hell. He wishes that HE burns in hell. He wishes to burn with you, spending the last agonizing minutes with you finally in his arms again.

He grasps your hand, wrestling out an apology in his mind to you.

But he can't let you go until you knew of the agony you left him with.

And that's going to take a lifetime with you by his side, shackled and ruined.

It has been a whirlwind of emotions.

You saw Dan Heng, turn into your old friend Dan Feng. Well, his visage anyways. Were you that blind to not see the similarities? Or were you blocking the image out of your mind in order to protect your own peace?

And Yingxing, no, Blade. When did he turn into this immortal, suicidal maniac who wishes for nothing but death for himself and revenge?

And it's Dan Feng's fault? Dan Feng would never!

Your image of Dan Heng/Feng started to mix, making you dizzy and confused.

Baiheng. She died? Did she really? So did Dan Feng's ritual work or not? Did she reincarnate? Is she somewhere out there?

What happened in those years?!

And Jing Liu... Jing Yuan's master. Mara stricken and committed a massacre. That Jing Liu?

Jing Yuan even defeated her himself... Oh gods, did he just carry that burden all by himself? All those years... Centuries of pain and suffering that he didn't deserve.

The carnage, the aftermath, the result of grieving.

It's almost too much to bear for you.

And you were just out in the world, travelling and being all wishy washy, enjoying yourself with your newfound friends?

For gods sake, you were Jing Yuan's lover! Did you just forget about him just like that? Then those promises. Were those fake and surface level?!

How about your old friends? Did you even consider them? In those seven centuries, did you not even think of them?

Of course you did! But you swore that you thought that they're going to do fine!

Guilt riddled your weary body. Exhaustion catching up to you as you wept in your room.

So much to process, so much to grieve. It was almost too much if it weren't for Jing Yuan there to comfort you. Telling you that it was okay, that it wasn't your fault.

But what if's kept popping up your mind. What if you returned earlier? What if you were there for Jing Yuan? What if you didn't actually leave?

And Jing Yuan was so nice throughout the whole thing. You only talked to Dan Heng for a little while, but you need more time.

You felt so selfish for being like this. Why are you so affected when you weren't even there?

That's it. You weren't there. You weren't there for your friends, for Jing Yuan who only has you.

Seven centuries of loneliness... How did he even endure it?

You wanted to share the burden so bad, to be with him and atone for those time lost. You want to be there for him.

You are a terrible lover. A terrible friend, and a terrible person. Those phrases continued to mingle in your mind and wore you down to your barebones.

Now, even a sneeze from Jing Yuan warrants you to panic.

And Jing Yuan had a sick sense of satisfaction from seeing you wallow in sorrow.

Again, he knows it's wrong. He knows that he shouldn't be delighted in seeing you suffer.

But that side of him loves the attention he thinks he deserves. The care that he's deprived of, the love that he's blatantly robbed of.

So, he eggs that anxiety in yours on more by talking about the past and the pain he went through, his eyes narrowing in an indescribable stare as your person gets hammered down more and more.

It was eating him alive. But he assures himself that this is just temporary. Once he felt satisfied, he will start fixing you up again good as new.

And, as your parents urged you to finally marry Jing Yuan, and you nodding in desperation to make it up to him more from the centuries of neglect as his lover, Jing Yuan apologizes in his mind once more, and holds you close.

Hello love, you certainly gave everyone a scare. They're all just thrilled to see you safe and sound. As for this latest little game of yours, thank the stars it's over. Did you have fun? Did you get everything out of your system? Good, good. Everyone is so relieved. Welcome home, Y/n. -Jing Yuan

(Original, unedited quote from White Diamond in Steven Universe)

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • VIII

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 5k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, mentions of suggested abuse, mentions of weapons, kidnapping/restraints.

Authors note: Chapter Eight - The Drain: thanks for waiting so patiently for me to update beautiful humans <3

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant @veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @thescarlettvvitch @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs @flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls @hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3

+++++

I picked at the grass for a moment, playing nervously with the strands I pulled from the dirt, “she’s gone. I don’t know how to find her.”

My vision blurred as silent tears fell, and my head bowed again.

“I miss you, mom.” I used my sleeve to dry my cheeks, “and you, dad.”

The three of us sat in silence, the trees above the courtyard singing with the autumn air. I spoke to them for a few more minutes. I tried to make it quick, knowing that if I stayed longer I wouldn't be able to leave.

“I hope you get to meet her someday,” I murmured as I stood, dusting off my pants.

“I’d like to hear about this girl.”

My stomach dropped as I whipped around in alarm, my heart thumping rapidly once I met his silver completion.

+++++

U̧̢̼̹͓͇̮͈͕̰͑͗ͭ̂̐̓̾̇̑̀̑̌̅̈͟͢͞Ń̷̙͎͍̘͈̰̫̫̭̼͇̻̱͈̝̇͐̌ͧͥ̅͑̏̈̐̉ͫ͝͡͠K̷̴̷̸͇̤̝̥͓̤̖̣̇̏ͭ̇̇̍ͨ͞_̸̸̨̡͎̭̄NͨO̅͆WͨŅ̷̢̮̣̰͚̝̮ͫ̑̾ͤ͌̉̀ͧͪͅͅ

Soon, I’ll kill my final piece of evidence… and soon, I’ll have control of Fidelio.

+++++

RUFFILO

I paced around the room with my phone in hand, Jolly and Folio’s eyes following me with every step. Juice mewed from Folio’s lap, and I sighed, staring at the screen. Not even a cat could make me feel better right now.

I ran my thumb across the glass to refresh the app once more. No new messages. Clicking the call button for the hundredth time I almost screamed once it rang until voicemail again.

“Noah’s been gone for hours.” I swallowed harshly, “and there’s still no trace of Y/N.”

“Nicky-” Jolly began, standing up from the couch to place a soothing hand on my shoulder, stopping my pacing briefly, “I’m sure Noah’s fine- he’s probably freaking the fuck out looking for Y/N. Maybe even went to the cafe and Sammy’s to fill her bosses in…”

My stomach sunk at his words, and my mind began to race. Something didn’t feel right. I knew Noah, and something felt wrong. He told me he was going to go to the cemetery to clear his mind- and I don’t think he wouldn’t go find Y/N by himself, not after everything that happened. He knew we were stronger in a group.

I shook my head, refreshing my phone for the hundredth time before moaning in frustration, “No. I think he’s in trouble.”

“He’s probably still at the cemetery,” Nick reassured me, standing up with Juice in his arms.

“Can we go look?” I asked, eying both of them as I pressed call, ringing Noah again. No answer.

“He took Y/N’s car so we’d have to walk…” Jolly groaned.

Nick snorted, “Walking is for plebs. Let’s just Uber.”

“Really?” I sighed, giving my brothers a look of relief that they’d come with me.

Jolly laughed, patting my back as we grabbed our shoes, “If it eases your mind seeing him talking to some headstones, then let’s go.”

I threw him a look, glaring, “You know it’s not just any headstone.”

“I know, Nicholas. I know.” Jolly reassured me and I nodded curtly.

We arrived at the cemetery half an hour later, and Y/N’s car was still in the parking lot. A spark of hope filled my mind as we wandered down the overgrown path- however the air felt heavy and still as my throat clenched in anticipation.

The closer we got to Noah’s parents, the more hopeless I felt, as he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“I don’t see him,” I mumbled, walking with haste down the path.

The graves were now in sight and I sucked in a breath, shaking my head. Even though the car was still here, something was wrong.

There was a fresh set of white flowers scattered across the front of the graves, the vase that normally sat between the stones lying on the drying grass.

“He could have just left,” Nick chimed in, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Without the car?” I shrugged him off, pointing at the flowers, “He wouldn’t have laid them out like that. Why is the vase knocked onto the ground?”

Squinting my eyes at something that lay a few feet away from the stone, I felt my chest warm, my head beginning to shake. My limbs halted and I watched Jolly brush past me, his head tilting as he bent down, picking up the black object.

“Is this-” He began, flipping it in his hand, inspecting the singular sneaker.

“Noah’s,” I said, my stomach dropping.

Folio shrugged, “It could be anyone’s.”

I reached for the shoe, pointing to the hole that was beginning to form on the toe, “No this is one hundred percent Noah’s- the hole forming? He’s had this pair of vans for over a year. Plus, they’re a size twelve.” I peeled back the tongue, analyzing the faded tag.

“How would he lose a shoe here?” Folio asked.

“He wouldn’t,” Jolly said, looking around the cemetery, his body turning quickly as he scoped out the trees, “He would have taken it off on purpose.”

I turned around, my mind beginning to spiral. First Y/N, now Noah.

He had to have been taken.

“Do you think he’s leaving a clue?” I whispered, staring at my brothers before glancing at the grass, my feet carrying me further into the cemetery.

“Those twins must’ve taken him,” Folio spit angrily, his fists clenching.

I watched Jolly as he leaned around the headstones, his fingers tracing the rock for any signs Noah may have left, before picking up one of the flowers. He twirled it between the pad of his thumb and index finger, staring at the dishevelled petals.

“There aren’t enough flowers here to be a full bouquet, and some of the petals are ripped…” Jolly’s eyes locked with mine briefly before I scanned the ground and trees, landing on a speck of white in the distance.

I pointed as my feet carried me towards the spec, “There.”

A few petals were dispersed down the path, and as I peered ahead, another sprinkle of white caught my gaze.

“I think he’s left a trail,” I said, my breathing becoming erratic as my eyes widened, fear sinking in.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Nick jogged up to me, pushing my shoulder to send me forward.

The three of us ventured deeper into the graveyard, passing various weathered tombstones, and surveying the ground every few feet for new petals. The further we walked, the more sparse the trail became. Eventually, it stopped altogether.

“Should we keep going?” Jolly asked, pointing to the gate that was open at the back of the cemetery.

Shrugging my shoulders, I kept walking, “We might as well.”

+++++

Y/N

The room lights flickered in a staggered pattern, the yellow tint that created shadows against the wall causing my head to spin. The room was stuffy and damp, an eternal sense of hopelessness radiating from the aura within.

I coughed, my tear-stained eyes squeezing shut as I lay on the motel bed, my limbs tied down. I tugged for the hundredth time, the rope digging into the wound that had formed from the tension.

I’ve been here for what felt like an eternity, but was really only two days.

Two days of complete hell.

The motel door clicked open and I winced in fear but relaxed slightly once I saw it was Kiean. He emerged, holding a bag of fast food.

The aroma made my mouth begin to water, but I swallowed away the hunger, attempting to push away the urge. The sounds that erupted from my stomach gave me away as Kiean locked the door, his head tilting to the side in worry.

“Are you finally going to agree to eat?” He sighed, tossing the key onto the rickety wooden table that was near the wall in front of the bed. I avoided his gaze, my mouth shut, refusing to talk.

The blonde walked over to me, the ice in the soft drink chittering against the paper cup as he placed it on the nightstand. He then opened the brown paper bag, pulling out some fries and some chicken strips.

“I got your usual…” Kiean tried giving me a small smile, but I turned my head. He sighed again, sitting on the edge of the bed. I pulled against the rope to push myself away from his presence, but my leg was stuck touching his back. The contact made my skin burn in fury.

“I even got your favourite sauce.”

Old friends, same disease I'm killing myself again Old friends, same to me I can't get away from it

I sent a glare in his direction as my stomach churned again, rumbling from the delicious, greasy scent. I felt sick from how hungry I was, and my throat felt dry from the lack of water.

Kiean watched me with concern as he unwrapped the straw and placed it into the drink, holding it up to my mouth.

“Drink Y/N, for fucksake.”

The paper brushed against my lips and I squeezed them together, closing my eyes in resentment. He held the cup for almost a minute before I broke, taking the straw into my mouth and sucking up the liquid. I downed the entire thing, gasping for air once I stopped.

“Thank you,” Kiean murmured, opening the box of chicken strips and sauce. I tugged at the rope again before wincing as it dug into the laceration that formed.

Kiean’s brows furrowed as he stared at my wrist, before holding the strip to my mouth for me. No longer able to resist I took a bite and almost moaned at the flavour, swallowing greedily.

“Stop tugging on the rope,” He almost pleaded, “I’m sorry it’s hurting you. Kade would kill me if I took them off.”

Old friends are just a memory That I didn't need

His green eyes bore into me with unease, “You know how he is.” Yeah, I do.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while as he fed me. I was grateful for the food nonetheless, despite them kidnapping me and tying me to a bed frame. I don’t think I could have made it much longer without eating.

One question frequented my mind, and as much as I didn’t want to talk, I knew that deep down I was safer with Kiean than his brother; and I was afraid that at any moment, he would step through the door.

“Where is Kade?”

Kiean’s head snapped toward me in shock, surprised that I finally spoke.

“Oh- he’s out right now,” Kiean shrugged, turning his gaze to the floor, “I think he’s looking for your boyfriend.”

My heart clenched in worry, mind wandering to Noah and the boys. Were they okay after the crash? Were they hurt?

Were they looking for me?

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I mumbled, staring at the blonde. He turned to face me, eyes analyzing my expression. His pupils dilated in knowing, his stillness a telltale sign he knew something was up.

Kiean was always able to read through me.

“But you have feelings for him,” He said as we watched each other, the gaze between us speaking for me.

I tried my best to remain stiff, but I nodded, tears beginning to well in my eyes.

“I know why you left Y/N,” Kiean looked away, looking at his hands that were folded in his lap, playing with his fingers, “and I don’t blame you for leaving.”

“I couldn’t handle it anymore. So many people were hurt. So many people dead.” I whispered, my voice wavering. I blinked in an attempt to hide my tears, but that only made them fall down the skin of my cheeks.

Kiean picked at his nails, “I’m not gonna lie, you fucked us over.”

My mouth formed a straight line as I stared at the patterned bedsheets.

“The whole syndicate fell once you left. Matt followed. Then Orie, then Bryan. Our organization collapsed after you disappeared…and the Rule Maker took over. You know how much that would have pissed Kade off.”

My body stiffened at the mention of the Rule Maker. He was the biggest crime syndicate in North America other than us; always trying to take Fidelio down.

“Once business shifted and we tried building up again- but since we lost the crew it was almost impossible. We became petty dealers for a bit, but no one wanted to deal with Kade anymore. So, we’ve been working under the Rule Maker as the foxes.” Kiean sighed.

“And he’s blamed me for everything,” I laughed bitterly.

Kiean nodded, “I mean, our business fell apart once you left Y/N. We have nothing now.”

“So you blame me too?” I asked, glaring at him. Kiean didn’t say anything.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t want to be part of that shitty lifestyle anymore. I was tired of being used, and I was tired of being part of a problem,” my voice began to rise, “So many people got hurt, and I did some heinous things. I needed out, especially after everything with Kade happened.”

“Kade has issues, I know… but he loves you Y/N-”

“Oh fuck off!” I yelled, my body pulling against the restraints in frustration, “Don’t you dare say he loves me.”

My chest heaved as venomous words left my tongue, “What he did to me was not love. I wish he was dead.”

“Look-” Kiean placed a hand on my own, which caused me to flinch. I tried pulling away, but couldn’t due to the ropes grasp, “I know you’re angry. You hate him, and you hate me, but we need your help.”

“Why would I ever help you,” my teeth clenched in animosity.

Kiean watched me carefully, “You put that mask back on for your friend.”

I avoided his gaze once again.

“You knew we’d be able to find you, and you knew Kade would come in a heartbeat…So why did you risk everything you ran from, for him? If you were so done with this life, why are you willing to return for this guy?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, “He needed help.”

“Y/N,” Kiean’s green irises begged, “If you’re willing to help someone you just met, can’t you help us? Help me?”

Kiean knew he was my weakness. He had always been there to save me from Kade’s hands. He protected me and kept me safe, despite how awful life was back in Canada. He was my best friend. He was my brother.

“We’re going to take down the Rule Maker,” He said firmly, standing up from the bed now.

“Excuse me?” I scoffed, a laugh almost escaping my lips from disbelief, “What?”

Kiean turned to the closer in the motel room, pulling out three fox head masks. Kiean’s, Kade’s, and…

“Yours,” Kiean said, holding up one of the masks. The silver paint glinted slightly from the flickering yellow motel light.

“We need your help, just this one last time. I promise we’ll leave your life for good if you help us.”

I stared at the mask, almost rolling my eyes, “And if I say no?”

The motel door opened, and I sucked in an anxious breath. Kade slammed the door, his expression furious as his sweat-stained hair hung over his forehead. My limbs warmed nervously as my lungs collapsed, air unable to escape.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away

Had he been listening this whole time?

“Then I’ll kill you, and your little fuck toy,” Kade seethed, lifeless orbs glaring in my direction.

Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

NOAH

It was the fear of the unknown that amplified the sense of vulnerability and helplessness I felt. Being at the mercy of someone else and unable to anticipate their next move, left me terrified and completely hopeless.

The blindfold that covered my vision left me anxious as my body thrashed back and forth from the restraints that tied my arms back, the metal cold against my skin. As I attempted to wiggle free the chains that held me swung against the chair, clanging in my ears. The wind whistled around the building I must’ve been in, causing me to shiver.

I screamed angrily, swinging aimlessly before the chair toppled over and I landed on the cement ground with a thud, the side of my head smacking into the pavement.

I didn’t necessarily believe in a God- but I prayed.

I prayed that Y/N was okay and that she knew I was sorry for everything.

I prayed that whatever happened to me, my brothers knew I loved them. That they knew how sorry I was that our lives were ruined because of me.

I prayed that they would be able to find the trail I left behind.

Old friends, same disease I can't get away from it Old friends, same as enemies

“There’s no way you pulled that pharmacy heist off by yourself,” Anger seeped through every word, every syllable.

“Who is she?”

I laughed, my body aching against the ground as I continued wrestling the chains, “You underestimating me?”

The man growled, pushing my face into the cement forcefully, causing me to laugh in resentment. Even through the blindfold, I could tell a snarle was embedded on his face.

“I stole your fucking car at fourteen. I can do anything I need to myself.”

“You sure about that?” I felt my body swing back up from the ground, two sets of hands sitting me upright in the chair.

“Who was wearing the Volto mask?”

I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself

“Fuck that I know,” I jeered, “What’s with the theatrics of all this?”

With my question ignored, I felt something cold and sharp press against my arm, “How do you know Y/N Y/L/N?”

I tried to not let my sarcastic smile fade at the mention of her name, “Who?”

“I’m not stupid boy,” The man yelled, a stinging warmth bolting up my arm, causing me to scream.

“Fuck!” I hollered, attempting to pull away, but I couldn’t move, nor see. Hands held my shoulders in place.

“I did some digging. You didn’t just break into her house, No,” he laughed, “No, you’ve been living there.”

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain

Why was he asking about the mask and Y/N?

My mind wandered back to Vincent, recalling our conversation days prior.

“Heads, you tell me about your little friend Y/N.”

My gaze narrowed and my fists clenched at the mention of her name. What did he want with Y/N?

“Tails, you tell me about your masked friend.”

Vincent said his boss wanted to know.

“So tell me,” I felt the blade dance across my skin, threatening, “Is she my missing mask?”

With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

RUFFILO

“So, who do you think Y/N is?” Folio asked as we walked down the street. We finally found another set of crumpled petals on the sidewalk past the cemetery, and have been following the road ever since.

“What does that mean?” My brows furrowed in his direction.

“Well,” He jeered, “The fact that two masked men chased us down, stole Y/N and now Noah, AND she is some badass hacking-heist guru? Doesn’t seem like some ordinary 9-5 barista if you ask me.”

I shrugged, “Well I don’t know. The only thing she ever mentioned to me was that she was running from who she used to be and that she was afraid we’d judge her.”

“She took us in without a thought,” Jolly piped in, “Maybe she had a similar lifestyle. No one would just take in a group of criminals.” He then stopped walking, reaching into his pocket.

Jolly stared at his screen confused, “Vincent?”

Putting the phone against his ear he watched us, a confused look glazing over his features. I stood closer to him, trying to listen in on the conversation. Jolly rolled his eyes, pushing me gently.

“Fuck you calling me for? I don’t have shit bro.”

“Yo, you know where Noah is? Did this asshole flake?”

“Why?” Jolly asked, “You were supposed to meet him?”

“Yea, he had more shit for me- didn’t show up at the ally. Thought that maybe I scared him off since the last time we talked.”

“Well, he didn’t show up because he’s fucking missing.”

“Missing? The hell you mean missing.”

“Missing as in we have no idea where the fuck he is, and we think he was kidnapped; so your deal’s gonna have to wait.”

“Wait- I think I know who may have taken him.”

Immediately I stepped back to share a look with Jolly and Nick. Did Vincent know the twins?

“Shit I gotta go. Meet me at the pier in 20.”

I heard the phone beep and Jolly stared at the screen in confusion, “Folio?”

Nick hummed, “What?”

“Did Noah ever use his first name when dealing with Vincent?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, shaking his head, “Pretty sure I told him to just go by Sebastian.”

Jolly shoved his phone back into his pocket, pushing past us and walking quickly down the street, “Seems to me Vincent may be more involved in this.”

+

We practically had to run to make it to the pier in twenty minutes since the cemetery was so far away, and travelling by foot was not ideal. It was windy and cold, the water droplets being swept up by the gusts of air slapping me in the face, causing me to shiver.

A man leaned against the pier, his arms resting over the wooden railing as he stared off into the water. He turned to face us, sharing a small smile as he stood up straight.

“Jolly? Folio?” He acknowledged them, and Jolly whistled in response.

“Strange seeing you unmasked.”

“Well, I’m not going to wear it where everyone can see us,” He threw his hood over his head, shielding himself from the wind.

“So what do you mean you think you know who took Noah?” I asked.

He looked at me, thick brows sitting heavily above his eyes, “Who are you?”

“Nicholas. Ruffilo.”

“Ah,” Vincent mumbled, “The one that convinced Jolly to stop selling to me in the first place all those years ago.”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Jolly placed a supportive hand on my shoulder.

“It was a mutual agreement, Vince. You know why we stopped, we got a new boss.”

“Yeah, whatever,” He huffed, leaning against the railing once again, “Well speaking of bosses, I think mine took him.”

“Is your boss a set of twins that wear these stupid fox masks?” Nick asked.

Vincent laughed, raising a brow, “Uh, no. But that’s interesting.”

Jolly, Nick and I looked at each other. So who took him if it wasn’t the twins?

“Who is your boss?” I asked.

With a shrug, Vincent turned to look out at the water again, “I dunno. I’ve never met him before, and we only communicate through his little henchmen. We call him the Rule Maker.”

“The Rule Maker?” Jolly laughed for a moment, before his smile faded, “Wait you mean to tell me, THE Rule Maker?”

“Who is that?” I asked, feeling out of the loop.

Folio ran his hands through his hair, “Only like the biggest drug lord in North America.”

“Well, why would he kidnap Noah? We haven’t done much related to drugs in years, other than the past month”

Vincent shrugged, “I got asked a shit ton of questions the other day by one of his minions. He wanted to know about the person who did the heist with him, since the mask they were wearing belonged to the missing member of Fidelio.”

I glanced at Folio and Jolly briefly, catching their eyes.

“Fidelio- that was a drug syndicate in Canada, right?” Jolly asked.

Vincent nodded, “Yep. Guess that was the first time that mask was seen in months. Then my boss went on asking about some chick named Y/N Y/L/N.”

Now my eyes widened and I physically turned to my brothers, both matching my expression.

“Ah- so you do know her,” Vincent began.

“I mean-” Nick scratched his neck.

“Well, my boss knows her. He has been looking for her for years,” Vincent sighed, “So, Sebastian knows Y/N, and has a connection to the Volto mask. Yada yada, the boss wants answers that I couldn’t get out of Noah the other day. So he probably took him.”

I ran a hand over my face, groaning audibly. This is bad.

Jolly stared at me concerned, “Y/N is the missing member of Fidelio. The timeline would add up.”

Fuck.

“Interesting,” Vincent chimed in, “So it’s the same person. That girl is the mask.”

“Well, did your boss say how he knows her?” Nick questioned.

The dealer shook his head, “Nope. And I don’t know where Sebastian would be either- but I think that’s who took him.”

“Why are you helping us?” I said warily.

Vincent smiled, his grillz shining against the setting sun, “Well, he provided good business. I got paid well.”

“I don’t know how we are supposed to find him though,” Nick said, “We were following a trail of flowers for a bit.”

Wait… following…

“Oh my god,” I smacked my forehead in annoyance, “Our trackers!” I lifted my pant leg, showing it off to the boys.

I wasn’t sure how we didn’t realize it sooner, but Noah still had his tracker attached to his ankle. At least, I hoped.

“How are we supposed to track it? It was Y/N who had the system,” Jolly said.

“Noah’s number might still be on her laptop. It’s worth a shot.”

+++++

Y/N

“Where is your laptop?” Kade asked, sitting across the room. His back sunk into the chair as he glared at me.

“Why would I tell you?” I spat.

He snickered, running his fingers through his blonde locks, “Do you have a fucking death wish?”

I snarled at him, “It’s not my fault you didn’t lock down your system well enough. Figure it out yourself.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly expect you to stab me in the back and wipe everything from us.” He shared a pathetic, cold smile.

“Y/N,” Kiean pleaded, and I rolled my head to look at him. He sat on the other bed, eyes begging, “Just cooperate. Like I said, if you help we will leave your life forever.”

“How am I supposed to know that’ll happen?” I mocked, “You chased me and my friends, almost killed us in a car crash with guns, and fucking kidnapped me?”

The room was silent for a moment before Kade spoke up.

“I just want my fucking business back.” He growled, “So like I said, help me, or he is dead.”

I swallowed harshly, knowing that Kade’s threats were never empty. He always followed through with them, and I know he most certainly would kill him.

I didn’t want to help them… but I didn’t want to risk Noah’s life.

“It’s at my place,” I sighed.

Kade stood up, clapping his hands together, which caused me to close my eyes and flinch, “Then let’s go.”

+

We pulled up to my house in a car the Twins rented. I picked at the bandages that Kiean had wrapped around my wrists to prevent the wounds from getting infected, wincing.

As we sat outside the front my stomach churned, worried the boys would be there. As much as I wanted them to be, so they could get me out of this situation; I knew if they were, that they’d be in danger.

“Are your boyfriend’s minions home?” Kade spat, turning off the engine.

“How am I supposed to know, I’ve been held hostage.” I sneered.

Kiean shot me a look and I rolled my eyes before the three of us headed to the door.

Kade had taken my key and unlocked the house, stepping inside quietly. The twins listened for movement and I looked around, the boys’ shoes missing.

“I don’t think they’re home,” I said. The twins nodded to each other, following me up the stairs to my room. Juice mewed behind, following us.

Once we entered I went to my desk, pulling the laptop off the charger. I handed it to Kiean who opened it, prompting me to type in my password.

“So now what?” I asked just before the front door opened.

The twins glanced at each other, holding a finger to their lips and my breath quickened, listening to the voices of the boys. They were here.

“So where is her laptop?”

“Probably upstairs. C’mon.”

Was Noah here too?

The shuffle of various sets of footsteps ran up the stairs and as soon as Folio turned the corner he let out a surprised yelp when our eyes met briefly.

“Y/N!” He screamed, taking a step forward before Kade cocked his pistol, holding it straight ahead.

“What the fuck-” I heard Ruffilo and saw him peer behind the corner, his eyes widening once he saw me.

“Move, or I’ll shoot,” Kade threatened, gripping my wrist and I winced. I saw Folio and Ruffilo raise their hands in surrender and Kade pulled me out of the room, past the boys. However as we exited the room and I saw Jolly, I then made eye contact with someone I didn’t know- and there was no Noah to be seen.

I pulled against Kade as he tried prying me down the stairs, gun still pointed towards the boys.

“Wait-” I begged, causing Kade to stop, “Where’s Noah?”

As I stared up at Ruffilo from the stairs his gaze made my heart sink.

“He was kidnapped,” Ruffilo muttered.

“C’mon,” Kade spoke through gritted teeth, giving zero fucks about Noah. We reached the bottom of the stairs and Kiean pushed me softly toward the door.

“What?” I yelled back, complete worry taking over me, “By who?”

“The Rule Maker,” Jolly hollered back, and the twins stopped at the door, sharing a look.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

Chapter 9 coming soon

[neverinadream]

Six Months Apart - Part One

Summary: Y/n Maddison has a deadline to meet and six months in Paris might just help her, but it might just jeopardise her relationship with he brother's best friend.

Pairing: Ben Chilwell x Fem!Reader (Fem!Maddison Reader)

Requested: Nope (Originals Here & Here)

Song Inspo: You're Gonna Go Far - Noah Kahan

Warnings: smau, 18+, minors dni, nsfw, angst, pre-established 'relationship', the reader is james maddison's younger sister, sneaking around, dom!ben x sub!reader, rough!ben, dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess, good girl...), praise, degradation, the reader is called a slut and refers to themselves as a fucktoy, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), mentions of spit, not edited...

Notes: so this is a rewrite/fusion of two old fics (both are already linked above), i've been wanting to rewrite some of my old ben fics so here it is. part two is already planned and i will start writing that once i've finished something else that i've got planned. anyway....did you like it?? feedback is always appreciated!!

y/n_maddison

liked by harper_xo, benchilwell, madders & 45,388 others

y/n_maddison: just found out i'm moving to paris...

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madders: uh what?!

madders: sorry?!

madders: this is how i find out?!

> y/n_maddison: surprise...

> benchilwell: bro this is how we're all finding out

user578: y/n's writing the sequel in paris???

> y/n_maddison: can neither confirm nor deny this 🤐

harper_xo: i can't believe you're leaving me for six months 🥲

> y/n_maddison: the longest we'll have been apart for 💔

> harper_xo: what will i do without you?! 😭

> y/n_maddison: water my plants??? 👀

> madders: SIX MONTHS?!

user245: why paris?

> y/n_maddison: it's a secret 🤐

> user288: research for the new book, right??? damon promised he would take her to paris one day...

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y/n_maddison's story captioned 'last one for a bit @.madders 🫶🏻'

seen by madders, benchilwell, user468 and 38,899 others

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"Get on your knees."

"Excuse me?"

He brushes his thumb along the seam of your mouth; your lips, soft under the calloused pad of his thumb, parting for him.

"You heard me," he murmurs, two blue orbs fixated on how far back he could push his thumb before you would start to gag. His cock twitches, feeling the first bit of resistance, his thumb covered in spit as you splutter and gag. "What are you waiting for? A please?" He withdraws, wipes it around your mouth, smudging the lipstick you had picked out for today's game. "Get on your fucking knees!"

"But what if someone catches us?"

You feign your concern, sliding your hands down his thighs as you drop to the ground. The family box floor was cold against your knees but it didn't bother you. You had done this in an alleyway beside a nightclub when it had been raining all day and the ground was still damp. The risk of getting caught appealed to you, turning you on more than you would like to admit. It was going to be something you would miss.

You tip your head, meeting his eyes. "Wouldn't be good for either of us."

He hooked his knuckle under your chin, showing you a smug grin. "Really need me to say it?"

Sliding one hand down the front of his shorts, he palmed himself through his briefs. You were beautiful like this, sitting on your knees, large eyes gazing back at him, waiting willingly for his next move. How many times had he had you like this? Too many for him to count. But every time you looked the same. Perfect.

Ben grins as you lick your lips. "Look at you," he hums, stroking your face with his free hand, "just waiting for it, aren't you? Like a good, obedient pup."

"Please, Ben!" You were itching to touch him, to hold his steely length in your hand and wrap you lips around him.

He fists his hand into your hair, wrapping your ponytail around it, and forces you to look at him. "Come on, princess," he tightens his grip making you whimper, "you can do that better than that."

Bending over, he touches his lips against your temple and kisses you. In one breath, he breathes in the scent of your shampoo, a concoction of coconut and vanilla, and squeezes his cock tighter. Six months without that scent was going to be hard.

Against you, he whispers, "Be a good, desperate, little slut and tell me how much you want this hard cock in your mouth."

Without permission, you curl your fingers around the waistband of his shorts and pull them down with one sharp tug, bringing his briefs down with them. His cock springs free, standing to attention, the tip leaking a pearly bead of precum. You lick your lips and moan like you could already taste him.

"Ah," he tuts, shaking his head, "touching me without permission, baby? I'll have to punish you for that later." He knocks your hands away, wrapping his own around his shaft, jerking it a few times to ease some of the ache. Your wild eyes follow his movements, a desperation in them that makes him snicker. "You want it?" He trails it over your lips, teasing you. You flick your tongue out and he shudders. "So beg for it, tell me how much you want it."

"Please, Benji," you whine, opening your mouth, a soft sigh leaving as he sits the crown of his cock against your flattened tongue.

He pushes forward, guiding himself deeper into your mouth, letting your warmth engulf him as you wrap your lips around him. Your tongue swirls around the tip, licking up his precum, and you suck on him with a loud, slightly over dramatic, moan.

"Fuckin' perfect," he grunts, pulling out with a sharp pop, a string of spit still connected between you, "but I'm not satisfied; tell me what you want. Want me to fuck your throat baby?" You nod your head, inching closer on your knees. "So fucking say it!" His tone is harsher, sending a shiver running down your spine. "Tell me you want me to use your throat for the hole that is, to have me slide in and out of that slutty fucking mouth!"

Licking your lips, you break the string of spit, wiping it off your chin. "Use me," you whisper, nuzzling your face against him, your sultry smile pressing into him as he lets out a groan, "fuck my throat right here in my brother's family box - treat me like I'm nothing more than a fucktoy."

"There you go," he grins, gushing praise as he pumps himself a few more times, squeezing his fingers tighter around the tip on every upstroke, "tere's my good, little slut. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You shake your head. "Can I have it now?"

"Poor, poor Madders," he murmurs, tapping his cock against your cheek, revelling in how you smiled up at him, "doesn't even know how much of a slut his baby sister is - wanting to get her throat fucked in his family box, where anyone could come back and catch us. Are you that desperate that you can't even wait until we're home?"

Your head shakes and your cheeks twitch. "Been thinking about it all day." A glob of spit lands on his cock, your hand jerking it up and down his shaft, adding it to the rest of the mess, before your mouth dips and slurps on his tip. "How are you going to live without this for six months?" You break away and suck on his balls, listening to the guttural groan that rips through him.

"The same thing I used to do," he answers, pulling on your hair, making you look up at him, "just pretend my hand is you." His response makes you smile. "Now, no more playing around," the softness of the moment was gone, "open your mouth and take it like a good girl."

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y/n_maddison

liked by benchilwell, kennedyalexa, harper_xo & 50,289 others

y/n_maddison: alexa play little black dress by one direction

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harper_xo: mommy 🥵

> y/n_maddison: 😏

> harper_xo: i can't believe paris is gonna get all of this for six months 😭

> y/n_maddison: pfft the hot french boys are nothing compared to you 😉

madders: you're wearing the wrong size, right?

> y/n_maddison: no

> madders: then you're at least wearing a coat, right?

> y/n_maddison: no

> madders: i'll bring you a coat

benchilwell: 🥵

>comment deleted<

user357: you're not sneaky, chilly 🤭

> user179: you saw his comment too?

> user539: what comment?

> user357: he commented 🥵 but then quickly deleted it

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Alone outside the restaurant, Ben stepped behind you, wrapping both arms around your waist. "I don't want you to leave," he whispers, too scared to say it any louder.

He buries his face into your neck, drifting his warm lips across your cold skin, the tension releasing from his shoulders as you relax back into his chest. You weren't safe out in the open like this, your brother and the rest of your friends were still in the restaurant, any one of them could come looking for you, but for once you didn't care. Both of you needed this.

"Change your plans," he attempts to persuade you, drifting his mouth higher up your neck, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, "stay here with me."

"I can't-"

"Yes, you can," he mumbles, cutting you off.

"No, Ben, I can't."

Turning to face him, you brush his hair away from his eyes, distracting yourself from the tears that threatened to fall. Of course, you wanted to stay, just thinking about being separated from your friends and family for six months made you want to cry. But you had a deadline to meet, a generous advancement, and a promise that you'd try anything to rid yourself of your writer's block to keep. Even if that meant moving to the location of your next book.

"I'm getting nowhere with my book, they think a change of scenery might do me some good-"

"But fucking Paris?" You wince as he raises his voice and he quickly apologises under his breath. "They couldn't have suggested Cornwall, maybe? Or Manchester?" He rattles off, his voice cracking as his own emotions get the better of him. You watch him tip his head back like it could send his tears back to where they came from. "Why does it have to be another country?"

You brush your thumb lovingly over his beard, your tummy filled with nervous butterflies feeling him leaning into your touch. "It's just France, Benji," you move to cradle his face as he presses his forehead against yours, "not the other side of the world; you can always come visit me."

He gives you a watery smile. "Promise you won't fall for some hot French guy who makes smoking look cool?"

You giggle and wipe his cheeks. "Who needs a hot French guy when I've got myself a sexy English lad with questionable tattoos?"

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Football Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @brasiliangp @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @hischierswhore @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl @ricciardhoe3 @sunflower-tia

[sarawritestories]

I Wanna Be Yours Chapter 1

Xaden Riorson X Lydia Aetos

Summary: Lydia Aetos Longs to be a Ballerina, her father has other plans, and has conscripted her to the rider's quadrant with her childhood friend Violet. Reuniting with her brother he only gives her two orders. Do not bring up wanting to dance and stay far away from Xaden Riorson. Both of his orders go ignored.

Content Warning: Violence.

A/N: Here is the first chapter I hope you all Enjoy! 🩰

Word Count: 4.9K

If you want to Read on AO3 click Here

I Wanna Be Yours Masterlist

Ashes. I’m watching my pointe shoes turn into ashes. I can’t help the tears that roll down my face. “Maybe now you will understand that no child of mine will be a performer in a traveling freakshow. My children are riders; they will serve their country with pride.” My Father’s voice grates against my skin as I watch the one thing I treasure most burn my dreams with it. “Come, Lydia, it’s almost time to go.” My legs refuse to move, as the pop of the wood makes me jump.

Hearing Colonel Aetos sigh grates my skin, he’s sending me to my death, with a first-born son like Dain, he didn’t need a second child. Correction he didn’t want one. Yet here I sit to his dismay. His feet move quickly as he places his hand in a vice-like grip around my arm; yanking me from the hearth, I writhe in his grasp as he pulls me away as I see what is left of the pink silk turn black. “That’s enough, Lydia.” He pins me against the wall, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send a message, “You are going to cross that parapet, and join your brother, you are going to become a rider. Do you understand me?”

I school my face into something soft as if my life isn’t being turned upside down, swallowing the tears. “Yes, Colonel,” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, but my mother’s and my father realizes it too as his complexion pales slightly.

Regaining his composure, “Get dressed, back your rucksack and let’s go we are supposed to be in General Sorrengail’s office in 10 minutes.” I jerk out of his grasp and head to my room, trying to even out my breathing. As miserable as it sounds, I’m glad I will have Violet. The two of us have been inseparable for our entire lives. We are both being forced into the Rider’s quadrant today, at the hands of our parents. I tuck my hand under my mattress and pull out a piece of paper. I sit on the edge of my bed and re-read words I have memorized at this point.

My Dearest Lydia,

My little twinkle toes. I’m so sorry, I had to leave. The life your father leads can feel like a cage. I’m suffocating, little one. I cannot be controlled or maintained like a rabid beast. I’m sorry, I know what this means for you, what your father will make you do when you turn twenty. Just know that not a day goes by when I won’t feel guilty for putting you in that cage to take my place. Just know that I love you and if you get anything from this letter. Don’t stop dancing. Whatever you do, continue dancing through this life. Let dance be your escape from the cruelty Basgiath has to offer. I hope one day we will be reunited, and you will have found a way to break out of the chains that hold you in Navarre.

I love you more than you know,

Mom

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Every time I read the letter of my heartaches; she knew that the father would force me into the Rider’s quadrant. Why couldn’t she take me with her? Couldn’t we both be free? Why couldn’t she have stayed just long enough for me to find a way for me to pursue my dream?  Anger bubbles up in my core, why was she so selfish to fucking leave me here, knowing that I would be sharing the same feelings she had.

Not wanting to keep The Colonel waiting I put on a black, long-sleeved shirt and tightly fitted leather pants from an old riders uniform my father found. I fold the note into a small square and tuck it into my boot, not wanting to risk him finding it. Grabbing my bag, I step out of my room that has been my home for seventeen years of my life and meet my father. As we begin to walk, I shut my eyes and I allow myself one more moment to mourn over the dream I will never be able to fulfill.

Violet and I stare up at the tower familiar with the trek we will have to make to reach the parapet, the first trial we will receive before ever becoming a cadet. Violet takes my hand, “At least we have each other.” 

I give her hand a comforting squeeze as we move up the line. “Name,” The lady calls out not bothering to look up from the parchment. Violet moves to talk to the older gentleman as I heave a sigh.

“Lydia Aetos.”

The woman blinks after scribbling down my name and looks up to meet my eyes and I notice the flinch she gives when she notices that they are two different colors. “Are you related to Colonel Aetos?”

I nod my head, “He is my father.” I see Violet is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, “I turn and look at her. “Have a nice day,” I give her the best smile I can, which in turn might be a grimace as I move to meet my friend.

She is conversing with a taller girl, with dark skin and her hair had been pulled back in small rows of braids. Her brown eyes glimmered with excitement as I came closer. The woman paused and tilted her head at me. “Hello,” I give a small wave, shifting under the weight of her gaze.

“Your eyes.” She begins and my mind starts filling in the gaps with words my father has used in the past.

Ugly.

Disgusting.

Defective.

“Beautiful.” The word shakes me out of my spiral of negativity.

“I’m sorry?” I blinked.

“You’re eyes, they’re beautiful. I have read that some are born with two different colored eyes, but to see the beauty of it in person.” She holds out her hand, “Rhiannon Matthias.”

“Lydia Aetos.” Taking her hand and shaking it a genuine smile creeping up on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m General Melgren, now move. We don’t have all day.” A man’s voice quips behind us. I turn to find piercing blue eyes and a full head of blond hair; he is wearing a scowl that contorts his face into something heinous.  He gives me a playful wink, that makes my stomach churn, “Let’s go, Princess.”

Not bothering to give him a response, I turned back to my friend and new acquaintance. The three of us begin our ascent up the stairs. The smaller man in front of us- Dylan- keeps babbling about how excited he is to be in the Rider’s quadrant. As he and Rhinannon discuss their dreams and goals, I let my mind wander.

Twirling across the stage, each pirouette clean and precise just as Seraphina has taught me. My tulle skirts billowing around me like a shield. I don’t need to remember the next move, the music seeps into my bones and as if in response my body knows what to do next. I grin as the warmth of all the mage lights, illuminating the stage, kisses my skin. Twirling into a solid form, Large tan hands grip my waist as my partner steps in time with the beat.

We move as one as he spins hoisting me up in the air. I am certain my toes are pointed, and my arms are sharp in an elegant pose. I feel myself being lowered and looked at my partners face, familiar hazel eyes and a toothy grin in plain view, twirling me once more to the crescendo of the music and when my twirls end, He dips me low, my one leg stretched out in between his, the other bent my foot tucked behind my knee cap. His forehead presses mind as my arms move around his neck in time with the end notes of the music.  My eyes close as the smell of Cinnamon, Vanilla waft my nose, as the thunderous applause ruptures through the theater. Lips press against mine and I can’t help the giggle that erupts from my throat.

“Lydia.” His warm voice calls for me.

“Lydia. Lydia.”

“Lydia!” Violet shouts giving me a shove, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look to see that Rhiannon and Dylan are giving me looks of concern. I pressed my hand to my cheek to find them wet with tears. Shit. Violet’s eyes held worry and an undertone of understanding. “You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” She whispers low enough only I can hear, as our hike up the concrete steps was nearing a close as the daylight was beginning to peak through.

“Yeah. I guess I’m missing everyone a little more today.” It’s a severe understatement that I’m making but Violet has her own things to worry about, no need to add more to her plate.

Violet, Dain, and I grew up together, she is basically my sister in all forms of the word. We have been inseparable, even more so when Brennan died and Dain left last year for the Rider’s quadrant, me, and her against the world we always teased. I never felt that more now, she gripped my hand in hers and gives me a squeeze as if she is thinking the same thing. “Thank you for always being there when I need, you Vi.”

Violet snorted, causing Rhinannon to turn and smirk, I look down at her feet briefly and notice the woman has one of Violet’s shoes and Violet in turn has one of her slippers on her feet. When did they do that? Violet’s voice causes me to face her, “You sound like you’re going to die today.”

“I am pretty sure that was the plan.” I murmur as Dylan and Rhiannon reach the top of the stairs. “He wants me dead, Vi.”

“Too bad. You and I. We are not going to die today, Lydia.” Violet was the first to reach the open expanse of the turret. The breath of fresh air is welcome to the stench of sweat and body odor. The warmth of the sun kisses my skin, a large gust of wind whipping my hair across my face. Violet seeing this her eyes widen. “I almost forgot. In my bag there is a little gift from Mira.” I quickly open her bag and pull out a package with my name on it and a little note.

Hey Kid,

A little gift from your favorite sibling. Don’t roll your eyes, you know it’s true!

Just something that can keep that crazy mane of yours up and to remind everyone not to mess with you.

Mira

Unwrapping package to reveal two long gold hair pins, little gold dragons at one end the pointed end sharp as knives. “I love your sister; did you know that?”

Violet laughs as I shut her bag and quickly put my hair in a tight bun. “You and me both.” There is a pause as we make our way closer to beginning. “I’m looking forward to seeing Dain.”

I roll my eyes, about to retort when a man’s voice, “You ready for the next one, Riorson.”

I pause my movements, my hands still in my hair, looking at the broad chest in front of me my eyes trail up and I am met with a set jaw and alluring onyx eyes, and in the light little gold flecks shine through. I roll my shoulders and drop my hands from my hair. His eyes graze my body and back up to my eyes and shiver down my spine. “Aetos, Sorrengail, you two, okay?” Pulling away from the man’s magnetic gaze, I meet Rhiannon’s stare. I dip my chin in silent confirmation.

“Sorrengail and Aetos?” The low rumble of Xaden Riorson voice pulls my attention back to him. This man is the definition of beauty, his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, even with the scar cutting across his brow that drags down to the top of his cheek bone. His tan skin gleams with perspiration from the midday sun no doubt, and I catch a glimpse a tattoo on the side of his neck that disappears with the neckline of his shirt. The clearing of his throat makes me meet his eyes once more. There is a knowing smirk on his face, and he quirks an eyebrow, “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”

I remain silent and avert his stare. “You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” Violet’s voice sounds from behind me.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s Daughter.” He retorts, “Your mother had my father executed.”

I can feel Violet’s anger bubbling behind me. “Your father killed my brother I think that makes us even.”

Xaden snorts, “Hardly.” That perks my head up, to find his eyes were already on me. He tilts his head his eyes assessing me, like I’m a prize mare, “And you. I wasn’t aware that Dain Aetos had a little sister. He never talks about you.”

I bite my lip the only indication I give that his words bother me, “I can’t say. I’m surprised.”

Xaden takes a step forward and try to focus on the floor once more, “Why’s that, Kitten?” A finger hooks under my chin forcing me to meet his gaze and my heart rate quickens, out of fear or sheer arousal, I’m not sure.

One thing I do know: This man is dangerous.  Yet I fall for his beautifully set trap and answer honestly, knowing I should not give him any of my weaknesses, “No one likes talking about the disappointment in the family.” For extra measure I take a step back, away from his touch and he lets me, dropping his hand.

“Hurry it up. Some of us are becoming riders today.” The ass hole from before speaks, his words grating my skin. A distant scream comes from the death trap in front of me. When looking over to the parapet I no longer see Dylan and my heart sinks. Rhiannon is still moving, and Violet begins to walk across dark storm clouds rolling in followed by a rumble of thunder. Fucking. Wonderful.

Xaden chuckles and I meet his stare, “Good luck, Kitten.” He gestures for me to the entry point of the parapet.

I glare at him, flaring my nostrils, “My name is Lydia.”

He smirks, “I think my name suits you better.”

I don’t know how the dagger got in my hand but the minute I throw it, the steel passing about 3 people before it hits its mark. The dagger sinks into the crack of the concrete a half an inch from the jack ass who has been making smart ass comments all morning’s shoes. Looking back at those gold flecked onyx eyes I give him a wink, “I think you’ll find, it doesn’t.”

The guy next Xaden laughed, “Looks like the kitten has claws. I hope you make it, Aetos,” He nods his head and I begin to walk. The drop of rain pelts my skin the moment I take my first step. When I take the next few steps, the sky opens as rain cascades down. I can hear Seraphina’s instructions in my ears.

Arms out, straighten that back. Get into second position.

I straighten my posture and extend my arms out, placing my feet outwardly giving myself the optimal balance and proceed to move. I focus on Violet’s pack in front of me as I keep moving. I imagine myself on stage, the music once again whisking me away. The low rumble of drums meets the contrasting sounds of the piccolo and various string instruments to create a melody that makes my movements lighter. I trust in my training, my balance, the music that for years kept me rooted. The music drowns out the sound of the rain colliding against the brick. My mind transforms the stage into a whimsical forest, and I am balancing on a fallen tree trunk to reach for my lover on the other side. His smile warm as the lights pressing against my skin. I’m not in old leather, I’m in a white gown with billowing layers that makes it easier to move in when I dance.

I twirl my feet finding purchase on the log once I complete the spin with flawless precision. A smile emerges on my face as I gear up for my flip the finishing move, I need to do before reaching the halfway point to him. I run and leap, my legs flipping over my head with the elegance of a gazelle. Landing with a pointed toe and my arms reaching for the sky my balance slips slightly but not enough to keep me from moving toward my goal. To keep me from returning to his arms. I allow myself a glance at his eyes and his face contorts into something unrecognizable, evil.

“I’m coming to get you, Twinkle Toes.” The voice is not his and I blink as the music abruptly stops and the reality, I am in comes crashing forward. The cool kiss of rain rakes a chill down my body. The voice came from behind me. I turn to find the blonde from earlier coming at me with full speed. The person that was behind me in line is blocking him from me and still is a good distance aways. That does not deter the Blonde-haired menace, as he grips the arm of the girl and throws her off. My eyes widen and my instincts overtake my body and I sprint. I focus ahead of me and try to think of music that would be appropriate for this. Something fast paced with horns and fast-paced drums, trying to keep my mind on anything besides the absolute menace behind me.

I can hear his footsteps thudding over the pattering of the rain and I quicken my base trusting in the traction of my boots. I can see the end and Violet reaching it. The is gaining on me and I have enough distance that I pause, briefly and take the risk I prep for my jump and slip. Regaining my balance and looking back to see he is still far enough for me to recover. I get in position once more and take a deep breath.

I will not die today.

I sprint into a run once more and when I have enough distance I take my leap, my feet pointed, my back arched in perfect form even Seraphina wouldn’t have anything to say. When I land the ground is slick and I lose my footing. Fortunately, Violet is there to hold me still. “Lydia! We made it!”

I nod and turn to the cadet with bright red hair, she smirks, “Name.”

“Lydia Aetos.”

“Welcome to the Rider’s Quadrant, Lydia. That was one hell of a performance.”

I walk further down the steps and notice that Violet winces, “Let’s get you taken care of.” I loop her arm in mine before we are both grip in a bone crushing hug.

“We did it!” Rhiannon beams and she looks at me, “You definitely made a name for yourself, what you did on the parapet was amazing.”

“What did I do?”

Violet blinks, “You’re kidding.” Before Violet could elaborate.

“Name.”

“Jack Barlow.” His eyes meet mine and there is a snarl on his face. The look promises one thing. Trouble. Thankfully he stalks in the other direction

“Lydia.” Only one man’s voice makes me groan knowing a lecture is brewing, I turn and see Dain standing there his mouth formed in a tight line, his eyes shift over to the silver haired woman next to me and his face shifts into shock, “Violet?”

Violet smiles, “Hi Dain,” Dain looked to his left then to his right before he grips both Violet’s and mine’s wrist and drags us away from Rhiannon.

“Dain,” I hiss, “She’s hurt take it easy.”

As if on cue Violet begins to dry heave. “Shit.” Dain mutters as he takes her to a bench hidden in an alcove where no one could see. “What the hell are you doing here, Violet?” As he tucks her head between her knees.

“General Sorrengail, refuses to have a scribe in her family. Like someone else we know.”

“Scribe is a respectable job. Dancing is not.” Dain deadpans and I clench my fist. A hand touches my shoulder causing me to jump.  “What the hell were you thinking, Lydia? Dancing on the parapet like that?”

I blink, and clear my throat, “I didn’t realize that is what I did. I was trying to put myself in my happy place. To keep me from over thinking about what I was doing. My instincts went into overdrive.”

“What you did was showboat and it’s going to cause me problems.” He scowls at me, and I get a good look at him at him, he’s grown a beard since I last saw him. But he still has our father’s brown eyes, and his hair cut short and his curls sitting atop his head. “What?”

“I can’t look at my older brother. I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking.” He rolls his eyes and presses me into a hug.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in my hair as he notices the new pins, “Let me guess.”

“Mira.” Violet, Dain and I say at the same time.

Dain smiles, “They suit you.” His small drops, “You must promise to never do what you did again. There are only two rules that I need you to follow, I expect you to follow them. No talking about dance, or dancing and stay away from Xaden Riorson.”

“Noted.” I rolled my eyes, “Glad to see somethings never change.” Dain sighs and moves back to Violet.

I felt a hand gripped my shoulder causing me to jump, “It’s just me.” Rhi’s voice calms me as she gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze, “I wanted to swap shoes back.”

Dain looks between Violet’s shoes and glares at Violet. “Make it snappy.” He glares at Rhiannon, “Who are you?”

Rhiannon looks between me and Violet, “I am their friend.” She slips off Violet’s boot and sighs in reprieve as Violet removes the slipper from her foot and grabs her boot, which Dain helped her put it on.

“I am a squad leader.” He looks over to me and Rhi. “You two go tell the red head recording names that you three are going to be in my squad. I’m going to help Violet and will be right back.” I nod my head and turn on my heal.

“Is that your brother?” Rhi asks.

“Yup.”

“He is something.”

“Tell me about it.” I sigh

We have been placed in our squads. I’m grateful that Violet and I ended up together and not in Xaden’s Wing. Not a fan of the fact that he is one of my superiors. His eyes meet mine and he smirks, those eyes look at me like a predator watching his prey. He whispers to our wingleader and then. “Second Wing Flame Section, you will be moving to Fourth Wing.” My stomach sinks, avoiding the stare of my new wingleader.

“Cadets, move.” Dain commands his jaw sets the only indication that he is upset. We move to where our new wing is standing as the one that is now apart of Second Wing move to where we were just standing.                 

Once everyone settles Xaden begins to speak. I try to zone him out as best as I can, exhaustion is beginning to take over my body. The adrenaline from crossing over the parapet but his voice rings out, “You all feel pretty bad ass don’t you,” Cheers erupt around me and Xaden nods, “Feeling invincible?” I do not feel that way. “You think you’re worthy of a dragon.” More cheers erupted and Xaden crossed his arms. The sound of thunder erupts.

No. Not thunder.

Wings.                                                                                                                                                

As if on Xaden’s cue a horde dragons’ approach, the noise begins to build as a regal blue dagger tail lands on the edge of the wall as if it’s a perch for them. Her claws dig into the brick, pieces crumbling down under her weight. I notice the cadets around me are frozen in fear. A few were shaking and their pants had dark spots that trailed down their legs. Terror racks through my body but I focus on my breathing.

Thump, Thump

The blood curdling scream of another cadet rattles me as a young man from the first wing runs heading back toward the parapet. The dragons all shift as a few more cadets scatter. I blink and feel hands around my waist tugging me down before the dragons unfurl their tongues and fire erupts from all different angles. The hands around me tug me close to the lean chest and I place my own hands around the mystery person’s, their fingers lacing theirs through mine I squeeze my eyes shut as anguish screams fill my ears and will certainly give me nightmares. The fire ceases and the smell of burnt flesh is left in its wake. The figure behind me moves and helps me up. I turn around hoping I would see Dain’s face behind me.

Thump, Thump

Instead, I am met with warm brown eyes and a goofy grin. A man with tan skin, a curly mop of brown hair and handsome face looks back at me, “You, okay?”

I nod my hand, “Thank you…” I lead of.

He holds out his hand, “Ridoc Gamlyn.”

I took his hand, “Lydia Aetos.”

Before Ridoc can comment on my name Dain turns, “Quiet both of you.” Ridoc Mimics him and causes me to giggle as Xaden continues his speech.

“Anyone still feel invincible now?” He questions his brow quirking as his eyes loom over the entire Quadrant, locking onto mine.

Thump, Thump.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. His eyes pin me to the floor incapable of moving. Out of the corner of my eye I see the blue dagger tail moving her head back and forth.  It’s the gasp of the crowd that pulls me from Xaden��s gaze.

Thump, Thump.

 The blues dragon takes a step down and my squad parts to make room for her. Her yellow eyes are looking directly at me as she takes another step forward. Dain’s face paled as he watches on, but its movement to my left that catches my attention. Xaden moves from where he is standing, his face is unreadable. It’s the quaking step of the dragon in front of me and my heart rate quickens as her yellow eyes take me in.

Thump, Thump, Thump

Despite the paralyzing fear, that I may very well die in the next few seconds I take in the creature before me. Her large horns curve on the top of her head. Her scales up close shimmer with various hues of blue and hints of black near the base of her scales, which makes her eyes stand out. Her nostrils flair, it feels like a challenge, as if she is begging for me to turn and run.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I will not die today. I take a glance at where Dain is and spot Violet right beside him, terror on her face. She knows dragons better than I do, though I know enough, she knows my rate of survival is potentially slim here. I close my eyes and try to keep my breathing even. My heart erupting in my ears.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I get down on my knees, my hands remaining at my sides. “What the fuck is she doing?” Jack Barlow’s voice carries over the silence that has fell amongst the court. No one else says a word as I bend forward lowering myself until my forehead touches the cool brick, the small grooves pressed against my skin. I close my eyes and I mentally recite different dance positions in my head trying to ease the fear.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

My breathing begins to even out when I feel the warm steam pressing against my neck. I take the risk and lift my head; the dragon nods her head. Is she giving me the okay to rise? Another dip of her head, and I slowly rise to my feet. As I do I meet her gaze once more, it’s just her and I, the world around us since forgotten. The dragon does something to my surprise, she cranes her neck where the tip of her snout touches the floor. She is bowing to me. The message is clear, a sign of mutual respect.

Thump, Thump.

She raises her head but keeps it low as she cranes her neck out for me. I cannot even see her eyes as she comes near and presses her snout to my chest. The chatter amongst the crowd is indistinguishable. I press my hand to her snout, her scales feel like leather under my touch, a smile forms on my cheeks, fear suddenly turning into elation. “Hello, Beautiful.” My voice was unable to reach above a whisper. She huffs in response and moves back to where she was perched before.

Adrenaline must be widdling from my body fast because I grip Ridoc’s shoulder tightly as my world tilts.

Thump, Thump.

I just survived my first encounter with a dragon.

To Be Continued..

Story Tags: @milswrites @eve175 @marvelsmylife @sherayuki @misslady246 @thelov3lybookworm @a-frog-with-a-laptop @randomperson1234sblog @garricks4thwingqueen

[yanderecxre]

Yandere!Cult Leader/Priest × gn!reader

Summary: Mason Blackwair always knew you'd be his. His sweet little dove, kept peacefully by his side, it's such a shame you've gotten so disillusioned with the teachings, but that's fine. It just gives him the opportunity to keep you with him forever now, willing or not.

CW: gaslighting, stabbing, cults, abuse of power, pet names, religious themes/wording, breeding, disassociating (reader), non-con, dycraphilia, dubious consent, loss of virginity, threats & as always if you think I missed anything just pm or say anything!

Note: peeks in and waves hi! Hope you guys like this one if you want a part 2 let me know!! ~ bunny

You are a member of your family's cult. Recently, you've begun to doubt your faith and the cult members found you guilty; as punishment, you were chosen to sacrifice yourself in the name of God.

At night you came to your priest, Mason Blackwair cell to ask him to mitigate your punishment. Mason sits quietly and calmly, his face illuminated by the light of a candle, his thin long fingers running over the pages of the Bible. Finally, Mason notices you standing in the aisle and smiles brightly. Despite the certain joy in his face, it is obvious that his smile is fake and here just for the sake of politeness.

“Hello, my dear dove. What brings you here?”

Mason doesn't let you answer and interrupts you with a little laugh.

“Ah, wait! I think I got it, little dove. Did you come here to talk about your punishment? I am sorry to tell you this, but I cannot influence the sacrifice in any way. Soon I will become the leader of our beautiful commune and that is why I need to maintain the reputation of a strict and fair manager…”

For a second, something like annoyance and sadness flashes in Mason's eyes and he quickly turns away.

“My advice is… To open your heart for salvation, little dove. Perhaps our Lord will hear your request.”

"The same Lord who wants them to tie me to the altar and cut me until I'm cleansed?”

You demanded softly, teary eyed as you looked into his eyes, the eyes that once belonged to your childhood friend. The sweet boy who used to pick flowers with you and run around the commune, now turned into nothing but a stranger.

Mason pauses for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if he is trying to find something in your expression. Finally, he stands up from his seat and walks towards you, stopping just inches away from you.

"My dear dove… Do you know what this sacrifice means? It doesn't mean that they want to kill you. They want God to purify your soul by shedding your blood.”

Mason puts a hand on your shoulder, smiling gently at you.

"Look at me, little dove. You know how much I care about you and the commune's faith. But it doesn't mean that I am blind to the human side of things. I will talk with your father and see what we can do for you."

At this point, there is a sincere and caring note in Mason's voice.

"But remember, our Lord has a plan for all of us, even when it seems like He is leading us through dark paths."

You just shook, rage and fear in your veins. You quickly turned away and left him behind, crying now. It broke his heart to see you so upset, he reached out for you but only touched empty air as you exited with the final parting words.

"I'm retiring to my prison.”

Mason watches you retreat silently, his expression unreadable. Once you are out of sight, he sighs deeply and picks up the Bible again. He flips through its pages, frowning at whatever it is that he sees.

After a few minutes of brooding in silence, Mason closes the book and walks towards the door of his cell. Before leaving, he turns back to look at the empty room with a sad smile on his lips.

"I hope you'll forgive me someday for what I'm about to do."

He murmurs softly before blowing out the candles and leaving it behind, retiring to his bedroom.

You spent the entire night crying your eyes out, lamenting that all you'd see tomorrow was the crazed looks of the people you once thought of as family, your weak pathetic cries echoing around your cell.

You stood still as your parents led you to the altar, your father offering soft whispers of apologies as he and your mother tied you down, a knife lay beside the altar. You looked up at the ceiling, teary-eyed.

As you lay tied to the altar, your family gathers around with solemn expressions. The room is dimly lit and there's a faint smell of incense in the air.

Mason steps forward, his robes rustling as he walks towards the altar. He stops at the edge, looking down at his dove with an unreadable expression.

"Dear little dove…" Mason says softly, reaching for one of your hands. "You are about to become a vessel for our Lord's power. Do not be afraid.”

Mason picks up the knife from beside the altar and holds it gently in his hand.

"I will be performing this sacrifice myself," he adds. "May God have mercy on your soul."

With that said, Mason places a gentle kiss on your forehead before raising the knife above his head with both hands.

"Do not resist," he whispers to your ear. "Receive His love."

You closed your eyes and sobbed, refusing to let that sick yet soft look in his eyes be the last thing you saw.

Mason hesitates for a brief moment, his grip on the knife faltering slightly as he hears you crying. A flicker of emotions crosses his face before he quickly regains his composure.

"Dear dove," Mason says softly, almost pleadingly. "Do not be afraid. The pain is temporary but the glory you will experience afterward is eternal."

With that said, Mason slowly lowers the knife towards your chest.

"May our Lord have mercy on your soul," he whispers as he plunges the blade into your flesh.

The sacrifice lasts only a few seconds - it's short, but terrifying- and everything becomes blurry to you, as if you'd been transported out of your body and that someone else was experiencing this torment instead of you.

When it's over you feel weak and faint.

When you awoke, you were back in your bedroom, your mother sitting on a chair beside you. She reached out to touch you and you flinched terrified, letting out a loud sob.

As you awaken in your bedroom, you see your mother sitting beside your bed on a chair. She reaches out to touch you, but flinches when she sees that you are terrified of her and immediately backs away.

"Shh… it's alright," Your mother says softly, trying to comfort you. "You're safe now, my dear.” you want to scream ‘LIAR’ at her as she speaks, saying you were safe. You felt horrible and terror filled your body.

Mason enters the room and stands at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest, watching silently as your mother tries to calm you down.

"You did well today," he says coolly. "Thanks for receiving His love."

Although his words are praised-like, they do nothing to produce any emotion or feeling from him. He watches you, shaking and looking like a terrified animal, like a lamb who barely escaped the slaughter. He wants to say more but knows nothing he says will help you.

It was like seeing a ghost, his little dove no longer did as they usually did. There were no more sweet smiles or hymns sung as chores were completed, no more treats baked with trays especially reserved for Mason. Instead his dove was shut away, in their room, only going out for meals and sermons or whenever their parents coaxed them out.

Mason notices the change in your behavior and it bothers him deeply. He cannot help but wonder if he's partly responsible for what happened to you.

One day, he decides to visit you in your room. When he enters, you are sitting alone by the window staring out at the sky. You look up when you hear him come in.

"Little dove," Mason says softly as he approaches you. "I'm here to talk with you.”

There's a slight tremble in his voice - an unusual vulnerability that shows that even someone like him has feelings.

"I know that things have been difficult for you lately," he continues, taking a seat beside you on the bed. "But I want you to understand that everything we do is for the greater good of our commune and our faith."

He places a hand on yours and looks into your eyes with deep concern.

"You can always talk with me if there's something troubling you."

You stared blankly back. "I am fine. I've been cleansed by the knife.” You whispered softly and finally looked at him with vacant and distant eyes.

Mason nods slowly, sensing that there's something you're not telling him.

"I see," he says quietly. "But I can see that you're still hurting inside. And I want to help you."

He takes a deep breath and continues, "Little dove, I know that the sacrifice was traumatic for you. But it was necessary for our faith. You were chosen because we believe that your spirit is strong enough to endure it."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching her face.

"But if you're still feeling lost or confused… You can talk to me about it. Remember: Our faith is in everything."

"I used to play the piano. Right? Or did I sing? My memory is confusing.” You looked up at him, sadly. Shaking slightly as you stared at nothing. “I don't know who I am anymore, Mason. I'm scared.”

Mason furrows his brow slightly, unsure of what you are trying to say. He doesn't remember you ever playing any instrument.

"I'm not sure what you mean, little dove," he says with a frown. "What are you talking about?”

"I don't remember who I was before the sacrifice. Who was i? Who am I now? I'm scared Mason, so scared. Who was I before you drove the knife into me?”

Mason freezes at your words, his mind processing what you just said. He stands up from the bed and takes a few steps away from you, his face contorted with shock. He thought you'd forgotten he'd been the one to do it.

"What are you talking about?" he asks harshly. "I never drove the knife into you, little dove."

His voice is cold and hard, and there's a hint of anger in it.

"Who told you such lies? You are mistaken. Your mind is playing tricks on you dove." Mason mutters as he knelt between your thighs, grasping your hands in his and squeezing them. “Fret not little dove, your mind will get better.”

"May our Lord have mercy on your soul." It's spoken in a mockery of Mason's voice. You looked at him slightly confused, "That's what you spoke, right? Unless um, I misheard… but it sounded like you-”

Mason's eyes widen in realization as you speak. He takes a step closer to you, his expression softening.

"Oh, little dove…" he says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through this."

He pauses for a moment before continuing.

"You are right… It was me who drove the knife into your heart. I did it because our Lord told me so in a vision - it was His will that you be sacrificed.”

Mason cups your face gently and looks into your eyes with compassion.

"But please believe me when I say that everything we do is for the greater good of our faith. Your family has devoted their lives to serving Him."

“Y-you did? But- w-why? It hurt- a lot-” You were working yourself up into a panic before he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Hush, little dove, you're recovering, do not strain yourself, you know why. In order to cleanse you, now enough of this. Rest and cease thinking about such things further.”

Mason looks away from you for a moment, his eyes full of sadness.

"I know you're not thinking clearly right now," he says quietly. "But I still feel responsible for what happened to you. I know that you must hate me now… But please understand that it was never my intention to hurt you."

He takes a deep breath and continues, "All I wanted is to protect our faith and people from the evil in this world. Sacrifices are painful, but they purify our souls and make us stronger - so we can better serve Him.” Mason murmured and hugged you tightly to his chest.

"I f-feel upset. You're supposed to protect me, yet you drove a knife into me and now that- that everyone in the commune saw it- i- I'll be alone forever and my parents won't find me a spouse.” Your lip wobbled and you sniffled slightly, clinging to him. You were unable to see his cruel and satisfied smile as he held you, petting your hair softly.

Mason listens to your words with a sinking heart. He knows that it is true - he did drive the knife into you, and that decision has caused you so much pain.

"I… I had no choice," he says quietly, almost to himself. "It was His will."

Fake tears glisten in his eyes as Mason looks at you, finally realizing the weight of his actions.

"You're right," he says softly. "I should have protected you, not hurt you. I cannot change what happened now… But I promise you this: I will do everything in my power to help you recover from this. Starting right now.”

Mason gently kisses you, his lips pressing against yours as he speaks. “I'll remedy this immediately, you and I shall marry. That way you won't be alone.” He doesn't give you a moment to speak, already pressing you against the bed, kissing you deeply now.

You let out a muffled noise of confusion and panic, squirming underneath him and pushing at his chest. His lips finally move away only to seek your neck and leave bites and bruises upon it as you gasped and whimpered. “A-ah! M-mason- wait- p-please hold on- i-”

His head lifts up, looking at you with his eyes blown wide as he grunts an acknowledgement to your words, “Yes my dove? Sh, it's alright, who better to take responsibility than the one responsible for your misfortunes? Relax, or would you rather this happen at the altar later? Where everyone, will see and hear you?”

You trembled slightly the idea of that happening terrifying you to your core yet feeling slightly exhilarating. Mason grinned, feeling you relax and continued making his way to your waist.

Mason kissed down until he reached your entrance, humming softly as he placed his hands firmly on your squirming thighs, grunting loudly as he forced them open. “Enough of that, do not do that again or I will have to tie you down. Understood little dove?”

You nodded, or tried to as you gasped softly and whimpered out a moan at the feeling of his tongue licking and sucking at your entrance, no one had ever touched you there. “Mhmph! M-mason! Hng- t-too much!”

Mason puts a comforting hand on your thighs. He pulls away from between your thighs, face covered in his own saliva and your fluids that ran down your inner thighs.

"I understand that it can be scary, little dove. But I promise you, nothing will harm you here with me."

He gives you a reassuring smile. Breathing heavily as he speaks, his fingers finding their way to your still quivering entrance which he circled a finger around.

"Besides, my love for you is as pure as the intentions of our God. All we have to do is make love and everything will be alright.”

Mason's finger breached your entrance, slick with something that made it easier to handle, slowly thrusting his finger in and out. He gave you plenty of reassurance and pressed kisses to your thighs and stomach.

“Dove, you must relax, you're still clenching up and tensing up. You'll hurt yourself more than me if you don't relax.” With those words he sunk another finger inside, his free hand pinning your hips down to the bed when he felt you buck upwards.

Mason grunted as he felt your tight heat around his fingers, if you were this tight around his fingers you'd never be able to fully take all of his cock. He didn't want to hurt you more than necessary, not yet at least.

“Sh, sh dove, easy there we go, good little pet.” He murmured as you whimpered and moaned, feeling his fingers hit something inside of you that had you unable to breath. You heaved slightly and looked down at him through tearful eyes.

“M-mason- please- ngh! That feels….. mhm! Good-” You moaned out and let your head drop against the pillows, falling into a dream-like state as you allowed him to continue. “M-more…. Please give me more-”

Mason grinned at your words, a sinister gleam in his eyes before he cooed and slid his fingers out, shushing your confused whines with a simple kiss before he undressed himself and tore your remaining clothes off.

"As our Lord wishes," he whispers between kisses, his voice reverent yet filled with desire.

Mason aligned his cock with your entrance, sliding it through your messy thighs first to coat it before he spread your legs and slowly sunk in.

“P-please, please be mhmph! Gentle, please Mason?” You whimpered softly, eyes locked on him as he looked down at you, mouth drying when he saw your flushed and tear stained cheeks.

Mason looks down at you with tender eyes, his hand running up and down your side soothingly.

"I will take care of you, little dove," he says softly. "I promise."

With a gentle but firm motion, Mason fully enters you, slowly thrusting in and out of your body. His movements are gentle at first, but soon become more passionate as the intensity increases.

As he fucks you, Mason whispers religious phrases to you: "pray to me", "I am your God", "repent for your sins". He continues kissing and caressing every inch of your body, making sure that you are comfortable throughout the entire ordeal. Even as he feels you twitching around his cock, your own fluids covering both his cock and your thighs and stomach. How many orgasms had he wrung from your body? Five? Ten? You lost count.

He's filled you up more times than you can count, you thought he was trying to breed you and knock you up the way he came and came. You couldn't move as you moaned and whimpered, unable to speak much less move and do something about him fucking your sensitive body.

When he's finished, Mason pulls himself out and lays down beside you, holding you close to him. The room is silent except for the sound of breathing as you both catch your breath after Mason seemed to fill you up so much a slight bulge could be seen, you shifted trying to get comfortable yet only felt his cum leaking out your spent hole.

"Sleep now, little dove," he whispers softly into your ear. "We have obeyed our Lord's wishes. Soon enough tomorrow, we will marry and you'll live with me, my perfect little dove who won't have to do anything but obey and listen.”

You fell asleep, cuddled into his side as he looked down at you, a possessive look in his eyes. He'd deal with the consequences of your parents finding you two together in the morning for now, he'd happily hold his little dove and admire the marks he gifted them.

Mason stays awake, holding you close to him throughout the night. As the sun begins to rise and light filters through the window of your private quarters, he kisses your forehead again before getting up.

"I must leave now, little dove," he says quietly. "But know that I am always here for you."

As he dresses in his priestly vestments, Mason turns back to look at you, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Now go back to sleep and rest as much as possible. And remember what we did was pure love. Our wedding will be soon.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips before making his way out of your room and back into the world outside.