#[I did take some liberties! I hope this is okay!]

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[voidtouched-blue]

Semi-plotted starter for @alexissero

The continent had been dangerously balanced on the brink of war. Only five years since the calamity that befell Carteneau, and the Garleans had once again began to pressure the city-states under their Imperial boot. It had taken some convincing to bring the healer into their ranks, but the Scions certainly had their own way of proving their need for her talents. Normally, she wouldn't have hesitated to assist, but there was a fear that commanded her choice in the matter. One she had been ashamed to admit to the organization. So it was with great confusion, and contrasting emotions that the Keeper accepted the request from Y'shtola.

"We have not the manpower to spare, nor a true White Mage on hand to ensure his safety. You've proven yourself more than a capable battle-ready mage, so it is of no question that your talents are more suited for this task", she had been clear with her intentions from the start. Though her talents in conjury had been nothing to sniff at, Y'shtola had a far more diverse arsenal of magic at her disposal than Cyra. When she asked why the Sun Seeker hadn't elected to accompany Alexis, the Miqo'te's eyes narrowed with her grin.

"I should warn you," the Keeper remembered how the woman crossed her arms and tapped her nails in irritation on her sleeve. "His careless tendencies to throw himself into the fray with little regard for his health may frustrate you. You would do well to keep that in mind. Your talents far exceed mine own, and offer a higher margin of success. Please, go with care."

Cyra couldn't argue with that.

To a woman of her talents, the Moon Keeper had great respect for Y'shtola's magick capabilities. For her to suggest that she was more well suited for the task came as a surprise. It's true that she was able to complete her studies in Conjury and even excel in her practice as a White Mage, but offensive magic had not yet become part of her arsenal. Surely, being able to provide a more destructive force to the battlefield was a higher priority than bringing along a healer? Yet, when she tried to question the Scion again, her words had been met with a sharp stare of emerald silence. It was almost as if the Conjuror had known that keeping firm and making her request into a demand would be what ceased Cyra's prying and send her on her way.

Though their conversation was brief and to the point, Y'shtola left her with plenty of questions to plague her mind about her new charge. The anticipation of such a strong warrior needing a more learned mage to provide protection and support felt quite comical. Though, if what the Seeker said was true, then perhaps the man was as reckless as she assumed. Such brash and thoughtless behavior would not be tolerated by any means in her presence. Regardless of that curious warning, Cyra would need to treat this with the same importance as any job. Despite her unease with the nature of their mission, she would need to keep herself together.

Night quickly passed into morning, and with the rising sun of the new day, the miqo'te had arrived with her pack secured over each shoulder.

"Ser Sero?" She called out. Unsure of how to greet a man she hadn't formally met, the Keeper thumbed over the wood of her staff to calm her nerves. It wasn't every day that one met a rather renowned hero of the realm, much less being given the opportunity to aid them. "Y'shtola had requested for me to aid you on your mission, if you're ready we should depart quickly lest we waste daylight."

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

[patscorner]

Kk or Emily defending her girlfriend from toxic fans?

Maybe on live or in person

on it!

I'M ALL YOURS

Summary: After an amazing game, you, your girlfriend, and the team go out to celebrate. But, it doesn’t go as you wished.

wc: 1,479

contains: slight angst, fluff

______________________________

“Careful, ma, that’s shot number 3.” Emily informs you, her hand squeezing your thigh. You roll your eyes, before putting your hand on top of hers.

“Relax, baby, we’re celebrating! You should have another.” you smile.

The Mystics had just beat New York Liberty in a double overtime, so obviously, the team went out to celebrate their win. The game was close, the Mystics only winning by a half court buzzer beater from Brittney Sykes.

So after all the press and interviews, the team made their way to a nearby bar. “I would, but one of us has to be sober.” She laughs, sipping her drink. You shake your head and sip your drink as well. After having a conversation with your girlfriend for a while, you decide that you want to dance, so you drag Emily off of her stool and onto the dance floor.

It’s not super crowded, but there were enough people to where you were always shoulder-to-shoulder with someone. You and Emily dance to the music, her hands on your waist as you let the alcohol take over. Eventually, you get tired, and Emily guides your unsteady body back over to the bar, asking the bartender to give you some water.

As you chug the water, a girl comes up to Emily.

“Hi! Are you Emily Engstler?” she asks excitedly. Emily smiles at her, and nods.

“Oh my god. Okay, can I please get a picture, I literally love you so much.” You’re no stranger to people asking for a picture with Emily, because well, she is a basketball star. So, at first this interaction is normal, and you see no reason to intervene. Until the girl offers to buy Emily a drink.

“I mean, if you want to, of course.” The girl says when she notices Emily’s hesitance. You’re listening now, awaiting Emily’s response.

“Uh, no, thank you. I’ve got a girlfriend.” Emily said, motioning to you with her head. The girl looked around Emily and you waved. She frowned, looking back at Emily.

“Her?” she asked with her eyebrows raised. Emily furrows her eyebrows, looking back at you, and you’ve glaring at the girl with a stare that could kill her.

“Yes, me. Is there a fucking problem?” you ask, standing up off of your stool, causing Emily to look at you worriedly.

The girl scoffs, looking at you up and down, seemingly amused by your size. You're on the shorter side, and not the buffest person on earth, but you had a mouth and a temper. “No, babe, I just thought Emily here would have better taste, but-” She looks at you up and down again. “I guess I was wrong.”

Emily stands up now, before you can react. She knew you could hold your ground but she did not want to wait until you had to. She’d rather shut it down now, and avoid the press and interviews.

“I think it’s best if you walk away. “ She spoke at the girl, her voice flat, lacking any sympathy. She hated having to be mean to fans except for when they openly disrespect her girl. The girl scoffs, and makes one big mistake.

“Ugh, I should’ve known. All you basketball players are fucking assholes. You guys aren’t even that good of a team. I hope you tear your ACL or some shit.” she then turns to you. “And you. I want you to know that pretty doesn’t know your fucking name. Your main concern should be someone trying to steal the beautiful, but unfortunate bitch you call your girlfriend. Maybe instead of being jealous when someone offers to buy your girl a drink, be flattered, and maybe attempt to live through her, because you sure as hell won’t have to worry about it.”

And with that she turned around and stormed out of the party. Emily starts after her, but you grab her arm, and she looks down at you. “Don’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“But, baby, she-”

“I know.” you say, sadness lingering in your voice. Maybe it was the alcohol, but for some reason, that girl’s rant got to you more than it should’ve. While you know most of it was jealousy and embarrassment on her end, you couldn’t help but doubt yourself. Was she right? Were you not good enough for Emily, like she implied?

“Just-let it go.” you smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, and Emily noticed. You felt your skin grow hot, and an ache behind your eyes. You clear your throat. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

“Ma-” Emily starts to follow you, but you stop her.

“I just need a minute, Emily. I’ll be right back.” She stops in her tracks and opens her mouth to speak. “Okay. I love you.” she whispers quietly, but loud enough for you to hear over the music. “I love you too.”

You turn around and head to the bathroom. It quickly became your place of solitude as you broke in tears. You don’t know why you were crying, possibly the initial shock of it all wearing off. Or maybe because deep down, you had your own insecurities about yourself, and how you were seen by the public. It shouldn’t matter or affect you, but it does.

Emily had made sure she kept you off of social media, or at least that side of it, knowing how toxic it could be. But that doesn’t matter if the fans came up to you in real life, like tonight.

You hear someone knock on the door, and decide it was time to fix yourself up. “Be out soon!” you call out. After you wipe away your runny mascara, you fix your hair, (that was messed up from you running your hand through it), you open the door.

On the other side is Shakira and Didi, who noticed your botched makeup and disheveled hair. “Hi- oh, shit, are you okay?” You nod unconvincingly, before pushing past them. The girls share an unconvinced look, and turn around to watch you leave the bar.

You don’t know how long you’ve been outside, but you do know you’ve been through 4 cigarettes. You’ve been sitting in silence for a while, letting your thoughts consume you. You don’t even notice when Emily comes and sits down next to you. You only make notice of her when she takes the cigarette from your mouth.

You don’t look at her, but you hear her shoe stomp it out on the cement. She scoots closer to you but doesn’t touch you. She knows how fragile you are, and how you hate crying in public, so she opted out of being the bend that breaks the camera’s back.

“You know she’s wrong, right.” she finally speaks, softly.

You don’t acknowledge her, just continue staring at the passing cars. You hear her, but you don’t have the energy to speak.

“Right?” she whispers. The softness of her voice isn’t something that’s uncommon for you, but to everyone else, it’d seem unusual. But Emily was comfortable enough around you to let her guard down. She was a big softie.

You let your head hang as you feel the tears start to fall from your eyes. Emily gives in and reaches for your hand.

“No one means more to me than you do. You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Emily sighs as you remain silent. “Look at me.”

When you don’t answer, she gently grabs your chin and forces your eyes on hers. You sniffle and close your eyes as tears fall down your face.

“Oh, baby.” she whispers, cupping your face and using her thumbs to wipe your tears. Finally, you let a broken sob escape your throat.

Emily pulls you into a hug, shushing you as you break down in her arms. “Shh, ma, I know. I know. It’s okay.” she rubs her hands up and down your back. “You can’t let ‘em get to you, baby. There’s always gonna be someone that has some shit to say.”

She pulls away, and wipes your cheeks once again. “And as for me, I’m not going anywhere. I’m all yours, and you’re mine. Nothing anyone says is gonna change that. Understand?”

You nod and she pulls you into a soft loving kiss. “Can we go home, please?” you whisper as you pull away. Emily smiles sadly and nods.

After that night, Emily posted on her story, calling out the girl who approached her that night (who you later find out has done the same thing with a lot of other teams).

Even though you have your doubts about yourself, there’s no doubt in your mind that Emily loves you. No matter what anyone else says, she’d love you regardless. No amount of stuck up bitches would change that.

She was yours, and you were hers.

______________________________

taglist: @bueckerslover @wintersstan @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @breeloveschris

[hischierhoney]

I KNOW

Nico Hischier x Hughes sister!reader

• Off Limits Pt 2 • 6.2k words

Summary: Things between you and Nico are going well, but the two of you might not be as sneaky as you think.

Warnings: mild sexually suggestive content, 18+ MDNI

You don’t think he’s noticed yet. In all fairness, he’s pretty used to seeing you in a Devils jersey. It’s what you’d been wearing when the two of your first met, and most times you saw each other after that. Especially now that two of your brothers are on the team, you’re almost always wearing some form of NJD gear. This jersey is different, though.

Nico’s been at practice for most of the day. When you met him at his apartment, you'd taken the liberty of grabbing one of his jerseys from his closet and slid it over your head, and for good measure, ditched your pants, too. You’re waiting on the couch in nothing but the jersey, which he probably would’ve realized if he wasn’t so busy organizing all his gear, and telling you about the practice, and trying to eat a bit of the pasta you’d brought him all in the middle of it.

You see it when he notices, and you hear it, too. His talking stops, and his gaze freezes on you, on where you sit on the couch, bare legs crossed over each other. He blinks a couple times, and then his eyes grow even wider.

“Nice jersey,” he says, voice suddenly an octave lower.

You crane your neck to look down at the number 13 emblazoned across the shoulder and the captain’s C on the chest. “Oh. Had to rep my favorite player, you know.”

He nods, makes a sort of low humming noise. You just smile up at him, watching the way his cheeks flush. If you’d known it would have this effect on him, you’d have gotten yourself one of his jerseys a long time ago. Maybe before he even rescued you from that bar.

His gaze drags up and down your body. “Schatz.”

You cock your head and blink softly. “Yeah, Nico?”

He sets his plate down on the coffee table. It’s still half full of pasta. You watch him with soft eyes as he takes a few steps towards you, lips barely parted. He beckons you towards him with two bent fingers. You go without even thinking twice, up off the couch in seconds, the jersey falling to your mid thigh.

When you’re within arm’s reach, his hands come up to hold your shoulders, rubbing up and down gently. His eyes are all over you.

“Did you steal this from my closet?” He asks.

You nod, chewing on your lower lip. “Hope that’s okay.”

Nico rumbles out a laugh. He shakes his head, and then he brushes his lips against your temple, down the crest of your cheek, and against your jaw. He takes a couple steps, turns slightly, and then spins you around in his grip, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back tight against his front. You gasp at the maneuver, and your eyes flicker up to his reflection in the floor length mirror in front of you.

He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are on your upper back- his last name, across your shoulders, you realize.

His eyes flicker up to meet yours. Your face is hot, the rest of your skin getting there, too. There’s a look on his face- a mix of awe and affection and attraction. He presses a soft kiss behind your ear and takes a deep breath.

“It’s more than okay,” he says. One of his hands slips down to your bare thigh, toying with the hem of the jersey. “You should keep it on.”

You lean back against him, resting your head against his shoulder, never breaking eye contact in the mirror. “Yeah?”

He nods, and his hand slips up your thigh so he can squeeze your bare hip. He raises his eyebrows when he finds nothing there- no fabric, no underwear. You raise your eyebrows right back.

“But you’d better find some pants,” he says, nipping lightly at your jaw, “‘cause we’re going on a date.”

He’s gone within seconds, leaving you reeling. Your heart is racing, chest heaving, and he’s just- gone. You look at your reflection in bewilderment.

“What?” You call after him, turning around. “Nico, where are you going? What are-“

He pops his head out from around the hallway corner, and his cheeks are red and rosy. You almost stumble towards him, but something makes you stay planted there. Maybe this was too much. Maybe you’re coming on too strong.

“We’re going on a date,” he repeats. “Keep the jersey, find some pants. I’m taking a quick shower.”

You blink at him. “You just showered. Your hair is wet. You’re being weird.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Yes. I’m taking a cold shower. The jersey worked, schatz, but I have a date planned for us.”

Then he disappears. You hear the shower kick on a few seconds later, and the shocked yelp that follows. You turn back to the mirror and laugh at your reflection.

20 minutes later, you’re in his car. He’s freshly showered, and you’re wearing his jersey and a pair of leggings. He has his hand on your thigh, like he always does any chance he gets, away from prying eyes. You rest your hand on top of his and run your fingers over the veins. Five minutes out from your very secretive date- he hasn’t given you any details- he tells you to close your eyes.

“C’mon, it’s a surprise,” he says, squeezing your leg.

“But Nico-“

He laughs and lifts his hand, placing it over your eyes. You squeal and try to pull it away, but it’s no use. He’s stronger than you, keeps your vision covered. You whine about it the whole way, but he just teases you the entire time.

When the car rolls to a stop, he leans close and whispers in your ear, “keep your eyes closed for me?”

You squeeze them shut tighter than you ever have before. He opens his door and shuts it, then opens your door and pulls you out of the car. You laugh the entire walk, as he keeps his hands on your hips and leads you in. There’s a squeaky, heavy sounding door, echoing footsteps on tile floors, and nothing but the darkness of your eyelids. And then- cold.

“Are we at the rink?” You ask, stopping in your tracks.

He groans, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “How the fuck did you figure that out?”

You laugh and reach blindly for his face, pinching his cheek lightly. “Nico, all of my brothers play hockey. I know ice rinks.”

He sighs heavily. You turn around in his arms and open your eyes, face to face with him. His gaze is soft and warm even though he’s pouting.

“Why are we here?” You ask.

He shrugs. “You said… after the family skate you mentioned how you wished we could’ve skated together. And then I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So. I thought we could have our own skate.”

You swear you melt into a puddle, right there at his feet. “Oh. Wow. That’s-“

You lose the ability to say anything other than the words that have been stuck on your tongue for weeks now- I love you. He just kisses your cheek and drags you away to the locker room. Within a few minutes, you’re stepping out into the arena as he turns the lights on. They shine down on the empty rink. You’ve almost never been in here when it’s empty like this. It feels strange. You’re used to being a part of the roaring crowd, used to cheering on the team from the sidelines.

Nico helps you lace up your skates, and then he walks you out to the ice, so carefully it makes your chest feel tight.

“I know how to skate,” you tell him.

“I know,” he says, kissing your temple.

Despite that, he keeps his hands on you when you get out on the ice. You know it’s not about making sure you don’t fall, and you think back to dates when you were a teenager, boys suggesting ice skating because they thought it’d be an easy excuse to hold your hand. You’d skated circles around all of them. But Nico’s a professional hockey player, and you want to hold his hand, so you let him take both of yours in his, facing each other, and you smile when he starts to skate backwards and pulls you along.

He’s so at home here. You’ve seen it when you watch the games, but it’s more obvious now, watching the way his face lights up as he skates. It’s so endearing, and it makes you feel warm from the inside out. This is his thing, and you get to share it with him, at least for a little while.

He spins the both of you in a circle and glides to a stop. You bump into his chest and laugh, pulling your hands from his to wrap your arms around his middle. He laughs, too, and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“This is nice,” you say. “You know, when I was a kid, the boys made me be the goalie.”

Nico snorts out a laugh. “Were you any good?”

You shake your head and sigh. “They’d put me in a fucking dirtbike helmet, and I was too small for any of the pads and they smelled bad, so they’d tie pillows around me, and… yeah. I was a bad goalie.”

“Why’d you let them?” He asks, sounding mildly concerned.

You shrug. “I was being a supportive sister.”

He laughs and pulls away just slightly, holding you at arms length. His hands slip from your sides and come up to cup your face, and then he kisses you, warm and sweet and gentle, like he always is at first with you. He tucks your hair behind your ear as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips and pressing against yours. Suddenly, despite the ice and the cold, you’re burning up. He tends to have that effect.

He pulls away sooner than you’d really want him to, but you let him go. There’s plenty of time for more of that. He pulls away fully and stands next to you on the ice, looking down the rink.

“Race me?” He asks.

“That’s so not fair,” you grumble.

“I’ll give you a head start,” he suggests.

You narrow your eyes at him, and then without even thinking, you take off across the ice. He’s hot on your heels within seconds, but the quick takeoff is enough to buy you a few precious seconds. You only lose by a couple feet when both of you slide to a stop at the other end of the rink, laughing so hard neither of you can stand up straight. He skates towards you and sweeps you up off the ice, wrapping his arms around your middle and spinning as you cling onto him and laugh even harder.

The happiness is bubbling up in your chest, and it feels nearly overwhelming. It’s been a long time since you’ve been with someone who makes you feel like this- happy and carefree and fun, and like you can be all those things without worrying about what he’s going to think. He sets you down carefully on the ice and pulls your back to his front, resting his chin on your shoulder.

He points up into the stands, at a row of seats that looks familiar. “There’s your seat,” he says, the words washing over the skin of your neck.

Your breath catches in your chest. Your seat isn’t a front row one- it’s pretty far up in the arena. From the ice, it looks far away and tiny. You’re not sure you’d be able to spot yourself all the way up there, let alone when it’s crowded with people and the ice is busy, when there are so many people clamoring for attention.

“You know my seat?” You mumble, pressing one of your hands over his.

“Mhm,” he says. He takes your hand in his, raises it and points towards the seat. “Right there, right? Under the screen. I always wave.”

He does. And not just since you started dating- you can remember your second ever Devil’s game, watching him glide around on the ice, and the way he paused in your corner and waved. The same spot, every game you’re at.

You nod. “Yeah. I just. I thought that was just you saying hi to the crowd.”

He laughs and kisses the side of your neck softly. “Next time, I’ll blow you a kiss or something so you know it’s for you. Maybe flip you off. Stick my tongue out. You’ll know it when you see it.”

You nod in agreement and turn around to face him. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, and that’s when you hear it.

“Hello?” A voice calls out.

Nico swears in German under his breath and then pulls you close, until you’re right against him, your face hidden against his shoulder. For a moment, you panic- you’re wearing your jersey, whoever it is will see your last name- except it’s not your jersey, it’s Nico’s.

Nico swears again, then calls out, “Just me, Jesper!”

“Nico?” Jesper calls back, sounding confused.

You hear footsteps, and Nico sighs. He keeps your face pressed into his chest, one hand on the back of your head. You’re fighting hard not to laugh. The footsteps slow, then stop, and Nico lifts one hand from your shoulder to wave.

“Oh, Hischier, you’re in trouble,” his teammate teases, whistling lowly.

“What, you gonna tattle on me for sneaking into the rink when you’re doing the same exact thing?” He asks.

“I’m not sneaking in, I saw your car outside and came to check on you,” his teammate says. “And I know a Hughes when I see one.”

You feel the rumble of Nico’s groan in his chest, and a giggle slips past your lips. You try to pull away, but he holds you tightly to his chest. You’re the one grumbling now.

“Lemme go, he already knows,” you huff.

“He has no proof, baby,” he says.

“Don’t need proof,” Jesper calls out.

“Shut up!” Nico calls back.

“Tell me to shut up again and I’ll call Jack!” He says back. You groan. “Or! You know what, I think I’ve got Quinn’s number-“

“No!” Both you and Nico yell, as he finally lets you go and you both spin to face Jesper.

Jesper laughs, doubling over on the edge of the rink, shaking his head. You falter a bit on your skates, and quick as a whip, Nico slips his arms under yours to hold you up. You grumble, but you’d rather not faceplant on the ice, so you let it go.

“Oh, he’s gonna kill you,” Jesper says, still laughing.

“Which one?” Nico asks.

“All three,” he responds, finally standing up to look at the two of you. “Team effort, probably.”

You sigh, though you know it’s probably true. Nico squeezes your side affectionately. You wonder what the look on his face is right now. You turn over your shoulder and you’re met with nothing but affection, even in the face of his teammate’s threats.

“Don’t worry,” Jesper says. “I’m not gonna tell ‘em.”

You hold your breath. Behind you, Nico’s doing the same.

“He’s had a crush on you for ages,” Jesper says, and Nico groans, loudly, and buries his face against your shoulder blade. “I’m proud, honestly. Never thought he’d get the balls. And maybe this means you’ll finally stop third wheeling my dates, huh?”

“Okay, goodbye,” Nico says, as he starts to skate backwards and pulls you with him. “We’re having a date, you know.”

Jesper makes a face at him. You know Nico’s making one back. He waves, though, and walks away, headed for the exit. Nico sighs happily and pulls you closer to himself. In the empty arena, your heart feels full.

…..

Nico leaves for a road game the next week, and you whine about it the whole time he’s packing. He whines right back, about how your whining makes it harder to leave, which you remind him is sort of the point.

“You’re supposed to be a supportive girlfriend,” he says, teasingly.

You pout. “I’m very supportive. I go to all your games. So really, it’s about time you missed one to support me.”

It’s not the first away game he’s had, nor will it be the last. It’s just hitting you hard this time. You think it has something to do with the way you look at him and think, oh, I love you, every time. It’s making your chest ache.

He rolls his eyes playfully and juts his lower lip out. “Oh yeah? Should I put in a text to the team group chat? Sorry boys, can’t go, my girlfriend is pouting. And then they’ll say, ‘you have a girlfriend?’ and-“

“Obviously I don’t mean it,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. “But I’m gonna miss you.”

He leans over the edge of the bed where you’re sitting, hands braced on either side of your hips. He’s suddenly so close, and your breath catches in your chest. He smirks.

“I know,” he says. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

He lifts a hand to your side and pushes- you fall back against the bed easily. You’d had your legs crossed, but they unravel and fall to either side of his hips as if on reflex as he looms over you. He rubs his large hands smoothly up your thighs, over your sides, and then he rests them on the bed, on either side of your head, caging you in. You’re warm all over, suddenly.

“You’re not done packing,” you whisper, tugging a stray t-shirt from under your head.

He leans close, runs his nose along your jaw, and sighs. “Mm. Packing can wait.”

You frown. “You said-“ you’re interrupted when he presses a soft kiss to your jaw, then nips at the same spot with his teeth. You reach up and tangle your hand in his messy hair. “-said you wanted to pack early-“

“Yeah, that was stupid,” he grumbled. “How the fuck am I expected to pack when you’re sitting so pretty right here?”

You scoff. “Nico-“

He lets out a noise of dissent, reaches down, and takes both of your hands in one of his. Then he pins them above your head, squeezing softly. You choke on your breath. He pulls away, warm brown eyes on yours, and you swear you’re melting.

“Is that okay?” He asks, quietly.

“Please?” You answer, voice cracking on the word.

He laughs and ducks his head back to your neck. “That’s my girl.”

An hour later, he’s less packed than he was when he started, because he’s gone digging through his suitcase to find you a hoodie to wear after he took your clothes off of you. You tell him he’s being ridiculous. He just smiles, kisses your forehead, and pulls you into his arms. You fall asleep with the suitcase still on the bed.

…..

He calls you from the hotel the first night he’s there, after he gets off the plane and has dinner with the team and gets settled. You’re definitely not sitting in bed, staring at your phone, waiting eagerly. Well. Not as far as he knows. When it buzzes on the comforter, screen lit up with his face, you let it ring three times before swiping to answer so you don’t seem crazy. You’re so casual about this.

“Hi,” you breathe, and you know you’ve failed miserably at casual with just one syllable.

“Hi, baby,” he laughs down the line. You can almost hear the smile in his voice.

Warmth curls through you, and you snuggle farther into the blankets. “How was the trip?”

He launches into a story about TSA and the plane ride. You’re happy just to listen to him talk. His voice is warm and affectionate, even as he describes all the frustrating parts of travel. You can’t help but think that he has such a nice voice. He’s so nice to listen to- you’d let him just talk for hours, if you could. You love to hear him tell you stories, mumble things in your ear while you’re watching movies on the couch, love listening to the inflection of his words when he reads you a recipe for whatever the two of you are making for dinner. You love him. As he starts talking about the stupid decision his coach has made, your mind drifts further, to thoughts of his lips against your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him, how good you feel, how-

“Schatz,” he says, almost teasingly. “You okay?”

“Hm?” You ask.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he says. The tone he takes makes your spine tingle. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” You try to take a silent, deep breath. “Yeah, just… you know. I’m fine. Just miss you.”

You almost hope he’ll drop it, because you’re slightly embarrassed, really. He’ll probably think you’re crazy.

“I miss you too,” he says, and you nearly breathe a sigh of relief. Then he adds, “now tell me what’s got you so distracted.”

“Nico,” you hum, trying desperately to come up with an excuse.

He clears his throat. “Did I ever tell you I love it when you say my name like that?”

You press your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the sharp intake of air. He lets out a rumble of a laugh, one that carries over the phone and washes down your spine, leaving you buzzing. Oh, he knows. He knows exactly what he’s doing. You’re caught now.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he repeats. “And I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking about all day.”

You melt further back into the bed and close your eyes. “You just. You have a nice voice. I like your voice.”

“Not as nice as yours,” he says. Your skin grows hotter. “You sound so pretty. So sweet.”

With nothing but the backs of your eyelids in your vision, surrounded by soft blankets and sheets and the sound of his voice, you start to feel like you’re floating. “Nico,” you repeat. He laughs.

“You nice and cozy, baby?” He asks, voice dropping an octave and lighting up your every nerve. “Bet you’re all curled up in bed in your shorts and a hoodie, huh?”

You nod before you remember he can’t see you. “Mhm.”

“Fuck, I miss you,” he says. “It’s only been a day and I miss it. If I was there, I’d-“

He pauses, or cuts himself off, you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter. You’re waiting with bated breath, chest tight, burning up with your eyes squeezed shut. You turn your head and breathe in, deep. The smell of him is still stuck to your sheets. You could cry.

“You gonna be good for me?” He asks. “I’ll help you, alright, honey? You just be good for me.”

You nod frantically, even though he can’t see it. “Yeah, Nico. I’ll be good.”

“I know,” he says. His voice drops another octave when he says, “what hoodie are you wearing?”

“Yours,” you whine.

He rumbles out a laugh. “That’s my girl. Leave it on, but take the shorts off. Underwear, too. Gonna make yourself feel good for me.”

You shove the aforementioned pieces of clothing off, almost frantically. When you’re done following his instructions, you catch the hint of a familiar sound. His hand, slick and wet, moving over himself. Stars are already dancing behind your eyelids at the thought of it. You’re not sure you’ll be able to take much more.

“I’ve got you,” he promises.

I love you, you think. You wonder if he’s thinking it too.

You fall asleep afterwards with the phone call still going, and his soft snores soundtrack your dreams.

…..

When he calls the next night, the conversation is starkly different.

“Jack’s mad at me,” he says.

You frown, pausing your kitchen counter scrubbing. “Why d’you think that?”

Nico sighs. “Because he’s hasn’t talked to me for a whole day. And during practice he checked me into the wall.”

“I mean, maybe he’s not mad at you, maybe he’s just mad in general,” you suggest.

You can almost see the look on his face when he groans. It’s a bit scary that you know him so well, that you can picture the furrow in his brows and the soft pout of his lips.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” You ask. “I can see what’s going on.”

“If you ask why he’s mad at me he’ll know I told you,” Nico points out. “Which would be suspicious.”

You hum. “Yeah, I guess. It’s Jack, I’m sure it’s fine. He’s just a brat sometimes.”

Nico snorts out a laugh. “Must run in the family.”

You try to act mad, grumbling into the phone, but you can’t help but laugh. He follows suit. You love the sound of his laugh more than nearly anything in the world, you’ve found. It’s a terrifying, exciting feeling.

…..

A few nights later, you’re in your car, parked down the street from the rink. You have the lights off, and you’re ducked low behind the dash, praying nobody looks your way. You’d picked your parking spot specifically based on avoiding the route Jack and Luke always take to get home, and you’re praying they don’t notice your car.

Other cars start to roll out of the parking lot. You watch carefully, peeking over the hood and looking in your mirrors. You have an excuse, if they catch you, but it’s not foolproof, and there’s the added worry that one of their teammates will spot you and ask them about it. It’s risky. But…

Nico’s been gone for what feels like forever, even if it was only a few days. You’ve missed him terribly. So you offered to pick him up, and when he agreed without question and told you how much he’d missed you, too, you’d set the plan into motion. Now you’re here, so focused on the exit from the rink parking lot that you don’t notice the guy next to your car until he knocks on your window.

You scream, then immediately slap your hand over your mouth. It’s Jesper, again, of course it is- he’s leaning on the window and grinning like he’s entertained by it all, and you groan.

You roll the window down and hiss, “Jesus, man, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry!” He says, still smiling.

“S’fine,” you grumble. “If you saw me then my brothers will too, I should probably move.”

“No, that’s why I came to get you. I knew you’d be here, Nico mentioned it,” He explains. “He is arguing with your brothers in the locker room. Mostly Jack.”

You groan and rest your head against the steering wheel. “Of course he is.”

Jesper lets you into the building, and you wander the halls until you make it to the locker room. You can hear them arguing before you get to the door- clipped words and snappy tones. Whatever Jack’s been mad at Nico about must’ve boiled over. You decide to break in before you overhear too much, worried about hearing something you shouldn’t.

“Hello?” You call out from the doorway.

Nico turns to look at you, and your brothers follow suit. They’re scattered through the locker room- Nico’s standing in the middle, Jack’s in front of his cubby on the bench, Luke is standing in a corner. You make eye contact with all of them separately- Luke looks like a deer caught in the headlights, Jack is so angry his cheeks are flaming up, and Nico…

Nico meets your eyes and smiles, soft and warm, and if either of your brothers even spared a glance at him, you think they’d know. Or maybe, this is just how he’s always looked at you. Your heart squeezes in your chest, and you want nothing more than to run over and throw yourself into his arms. You stay put, even as he looks you up and down. Suddenly, you wish you were wearing his jersey instead of your normal Hughes one, just to see his eyes light up.

“What are you doing here?” Jack asks, gently.

He’s being nice. Almost too nice. Jack is almost never unkind to you, but he’s your brother- annoying most times, a pest all the time. The tone he’s taking with you is abnormal- he shouldn’t be so nice about you showing up here.

“Oh. I, uh, was gonna surprise you guys and see if you wanted to grab dinner or something,” you say, shrugging. “And then Jesper found me in my car and said you guys were arguing, and that maybe I should break it up.”

Jack huffs and whirls back around to glare at Nico. “You’ve got Bratter covering for you?”

You look at your brother with wide eyed confusion. Luke groans and drags a hand down his face. Nico, for his part, also looks confused.

“Jack, I-“ he tries.

“No,” Jack interrupts. He turns back to you and points. “You, me and Luke will go out for dinner. Okay? I’ll meet you outside.”

“Jack-“ Nico tries again.

“Shut up,” Jack snaps.

You need information. You need the full story. And when that’s what you’re looking for, you look to Luke. He’s the youngest, and he’s a tattletale.

“Lukey,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Jack opens his mouth. You hold your hand up to him. He groans, but he stays quiet. Nico’s staring at you, entranced. Jack has always been so overprotective, and Luke, too, that you’re sure sometimes it’s easy to forget that you’re actually their older sister. That is, until now.

Luke sighs, heavily. “You and Nico are dating.” You raise your brows and gesture for him to continue. “And. Um. He had a girl in his room Tuesday night.”

Part of this makes sense. Of course they’re upset with Nico. They’ve figured out that the two of you are together, which Jack had explicitly said was not allowed. However, you’d always sort of figured that when they found out, they’d drop the overprotective act. They both love Nico, and they both want to see you happy, right?

Then you realize what the second half of what Luke said means- they think Nico cheated on you. You turn to look at your boyfriend, already knowing it’s not true for a variety of reasons, most important of all the fact that you were on the phone with him on Tuesday night. He’s giving you a pleading look, like he’s trying to convince you it’s not true, even though you didn’t believe it for a second.

You blink, then frown, then tilt your head. “No, he didn’t.”

“He did,” Jack pipes up, shoulders drooping. “Someone said they heard… noises. Of a sexual variety.”

Nico groans and buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, you start to laugh, unable to help it now. Jack makes a noise of confusion.

“Jack,” you say, between giggles. “There are other things people can do, rather than just straight up sex, like maybe talking over the phone…”

Your brothers are silent for a moment. Then Luke groans, loudly, and covers his ears. He swings around and looks at Nico with wide eyes, then closes his eyes tightly. Jack, meanwhile, flops backwards against the wall and covers his face in his hands. Nico’s face is red. It’s not exactly how you would’ve chosen to tell them, but… it gets the point across.

“Please never say that to me again,” Jack says. “Actually, if you never say the word sex in my presence I’ll be happy.”

You roll your eyes and turn to Nico, shrugging lightly. Despite all of it, he’s still smiling at you. He looks so soft, in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, hair an unbelievable mess. You have a strong urge to run your fingers through it. Jack lets out another noise of distress, and you turn back to him.

“You asked,” you tell your brother.

“No, I did not!” He snaps. “Excuse me for being worried, I thought you were being cheated on.”

“You really think that little of me?” Nico finally pipes in, looking at his friend.

Jack pulls his hands from his face and turns to look at Nico. He sighs heavily, frowning. Nico keeps staring at him, waiting for an answer.

“No. I don’t know. I…” he sighs again. “At worst, I really thought maybe you guys just weren’t exclusive, and that was…” he turns to look at you, and jerks his head in a little nod. “Jesus, you’ve had a crush on him for forever, we all knew it, and I told him you were off limits, so then I was worried that I was the reason he was maybe seeing someone else, too, and…”

You see Nico relax at that, shoulders loosening. You’re sure it must’ve been a tough feeling, to have one of his good friends assume something like that. You’re a bit relieved, too.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Yeah. I heard. How about we agree no more of you deciding things like my dating life for me?”

Jack nods solemnly. Nico raises his hand.

“But you are officially off limits,” he says. You smirk and roll your eyes, and he smiles brightly at you. “Right?”

“Right,” you agree. “But by my own choice.”

He grins at you, and your heart skips a beat again.

“Can we buy you guys dinner to apologize?” Jack asks.

You shrug. “Maybe another day. We have plans.”

Nico nods and stands up, headed for you. He turns to his teammates. “We good?”

“Yeah, man,” Jack says. He narrows his eyes, and you fight not to roll yours, because you know what’s coming next. “But if you hurt her-“

“I know,” Nico says, warmly.

Jack nods. Behind him, Luke raises his hand, a look of concern on his face.

“So. When do we tell Quinn?” He asks.

You, Nico, and Jack exchange a look.

“Maybe never,” Jack says.

“I’m fine with that,” Nico winces.

“Yeah,” you agree. “Need to know basis.”

Nico follows you out of the room and down the hall. He slips his hand into yours as soon as you’re out of sight of your brothers. You could remind him he doesn’t have to wait now, that he doesn’t have to hide it, but you think maybe it’s for the best until things settle down. The two of you are quiet as you walk out to the car, and you huddle close to him at the chill of the night air. The car isn’t far, and the parking lot is empty. He reaches into your jacket pocket and snags your keys- you’ve learned that he hates to let you drive, not because he thinks you’re bad at it, but because he likes driving you around. It’s quite sweet, really, so you let him get in the driver’s seat as you climb into the car.

He pauses once he’s turned it on, and he looks over at you. “You said we have plans? Are we going somewhere?”

You laugh and reach up to cup the side of his face in your hand. He leans into your touch.

“Wherever you want,” you say, quietly. “Just wanted it to be me and you.”

He smiles slowly. It spreads across his face like molasses. Your heart skips a beat in your chest.

“You know I love you?” He says, like it’s so, so obvious. Like he’s just checking, just to make sure.

You nod, because you think you did know, that maybe you’ve known it since you started feeling it too. “Yeah. I know. I love you, too.”

…

You're on the phone with Quinn, nearly a week later, when you slip up. He asks what you’ve been up to, what you did the past week, if your brothers are giving you trouble.

“I’ve just been busy with work,” you tell him. “But Nico and I went to a really cute restaurant last night. I had the best seafood pasta.”

You don’t even realize what you’ve just said. You just wait for Quinn to answer, and you’re met with silence. He coughs, like he’s holding back a laugh.

“Did you mean to tell me that?” He asks, and your stomach drops.

“Fuck!”

Quinn laughs down the line, and your face grows warm. You’d forgotten- Luke and Jack know now, so it feels less like something you need to hide. But Quinn didn’t know, and Quinn is overprotective, and shit, fuck-

“I already knew. I’ve known since your first date,” he admits, and you feel your own face morph into confusion.

“How?”

“I never reveal my sources,” he answers. “But I knew something was up when he took you home from the bar and had you stay the night.”

“You’re all such gossips,” you grumble. “Why didn’t you just tell me you knew?”

He makes a noncommittal noise. “Honestly, it’s been fun to watch all of you dance around it. Once I figured out that Jack also knew, I figured he was keeping an eye on it close enough. Also… he seems like a good enough guy. Of all the hockey guys you could’ve picked, he’s up there, you know?”

You smile softly. “I really love him, Quinn.”

“Gross,” Quinn says. “But I’m happy for you.”

You look over to the front door, where Nico’s just walked in. “Yeah. I know. Hey, I gotta go.”

Your older brother sighs heavily. “Tell Hischier I said hi,” he grumbles. “And that if he hurts you-“

“He knows,” you say.

Across the kitchen, Nico smiles softly. You hang up the phone and melt into his arms.

“Bad day,” you say. “Missed you.”

“I know,” he says. “Missed you too.”

a:/n: thanks for reading! also happy b-day cece!!

[partycatty]

i was sent an incredibly delicious prompt to use, and i just can't resist it omg. requester wanted to be anonymous, but just know i appreciate u! i won't lie, i ran into so many blocks trying to get this out. writing is hard :( i ended up taking a couple creative liberties anon i hope that's okay

bi-han > new tricks

johnny cage's girlfriend catches him cheating, so she tries to get back at him using bi-han. it's all fun and games, until something new starts to blossom.

warnings: u get cheated on, THIS IS NSFW, author struggles to write johnny in a bad light bc of their favoritism /j, accidental bottom bi-han

notes: i'm rubbing my hands together like a little fly rn, also bi-han's betrayal doesn't happen in this case, also also yes i made a gif of johnny getting his shit rocked for this fic thumbnail

masterlist <3

PART 2 !!!!

•you and johnny got together following the end of the storyline's events. he charmed you to holy hell and back with those dumb sunglasses and pickup lines at the academy. he was a sweetheart at first, love-bombing you endlessly until you accepted his thirtieth relationship proposal. deciding to stop dragging him along like a lost puppy, you finally said yes, and off you went to date a movie star!

•the change from being nobody to somebody was JARRING. suddenly, cameras were up your ass all the time, and you caught yourself staring out of your apartment window on multiple occasions to see people scurry away when they're spotted.

•even so, you can't lie. the parties that celebrities hold rival outworld's temptations. especially if johnny is hosting. despite downsizing from his mega mansion, his new home was still expansive enough to hold a large number of people. and boy did he take advantage of the space.

•everyone was a few drinks deep, you yourself were a little buzzed but with the intention of loosening up and socializing. johnny however, seems to have other intentions.

•johnny is canonically a recovering alcoholic. he'd indulge in a girly drink every now and then, maybe some whiskey on a really shitty day. but today, he must have combined the two flavors of vice and was now fitting his clothed dick into some random C-list actress's ass, grinding to the music. his sunglasses sloppily clung onto his nose and his face was flushed. drunk or not, he was dry humping some random broad at his own damn party, with you only a few feet away.

•you want to scream so bad, to tear her bleached blonde hair to the ground and beat her, and then johnny. but all you can do is stand there horrified, that is, until johnny looks up from his buried face in her neck and makes eye contact with you, eyes wide.

•"babe — goddamnit — babe!" johnny slurs out, holding your arms tight on his balcony. "it's not... fuck. it's just fun! it's a party! lighten up!"

•after a drunken back and forth, johnny eventually throws his hands in the air and tells you to fuck off because he can find better at that very party. although you heavily disagreed, the conversation abruptly ended when you slurred something back along the lines of "you want some other bitch? have 'em then!" officially ending your relationship and storming out of the party.

•the following few days were rough on your heart, and majority of the time your bed was occupied and loud sobs echoed across your walls. you could've had it all, dammit, and this dickhead just threw you away like nothing! he thinks he can just score any woman he wants, whenever he wants. even if he learned his lesson from cris, his playboy attitude runs in his veins. it's not something he's gonna shake easily, and you were a victim to his unchanging behavior.

•back to living with nothing, you decided to retreat to the one place you knew you were wanted; the lin kuei compound. bi-han, kuai liang and tomas respected your strength when it came to fighting against evil and welcomed you like their own.

•after about three days of living on the lin kuei's land, you check social media. you went ghost online after the breakup since the paparazzi and article rats were prowling the internet (and your home) for details about your breakup with the A-Lister. checking social media proved to be a stupid move, because almost instantly your feed was flooding with photos and videos of your ex-boyfriend partying on yachts and posing with models. he's really out here posting like he's not damaged in the slightest, but literally everyone and their mother can read the post a little deeper and see he's compensating for losing you. you were mature, well-spoken, and well respected, and he was still trying to get his shit together after everything that happened. you were just another crack in his shittily held together glass. and it was time to get back at him.

•it starts off innocently enough, you snap quick photos of the grandmaster when he's not looking, showing only his veiny arms and a hint of his blue uniform. you'd post it to your story to pretend to soft launch this new "boyfriend," linking a romantic song to the post and letting people run wild. this proved effective immediately, as you noticed that "UgotCAGEd" with the little verified mark would view your story almost the exact moment it'd go up. you knew that he knew exactly who was in the photo, and it just had to have been driving him up a wall. he even tried to combat this by posting more and more, each setting getting more lavish and sexy than the last. if anything, johnny was a chronic 1-upper. but you couldn't just post blurry pictures of bi-han forever. this needed to cut deep.

•and you were going to play this stupid game, because if he goes low, you go in the TRENCHES.

•"grandmaster sub-zero, i-i have a favor to ask you," you politely ask, bowing once before smiling up at bi-han. "i have a plan. a... ridiculous one. but it needs your help."

•"you want us to fake partnership?" bi-han asks you, trying to summarize your lengthy explanation. "go ask kuai liang. or tomas. they need something to do these days, with shang tsung imprisoned. i'm busy."

•"it can't be them, it has to be you," you respectfully protest, putting your hands in a prayer position to beg for his help. "johnny is... jealous of you. it would be most effective. and i'll be forever in your debt." bi-han's eyes momentarily widen at your insistence. your desperation for his help caught him a little off guard.

•it's true. johnny was jealous ever since he got his shit kicked in when they first met. they were never really huge fans of each other since then. standing in front of him now, it's easy to understand how bi-han was so superior. his emotions never took control, he was a powerful leader for his clan, and his furrowed brows and gravely voice rumbled inside of your chest... jesus, now that you're getting a good look, he's actually pretty hot. oh, no.

•"this is ridiculous," bi-han groans, trying to angle himself just right in the selfie. he stands behind you, hand wrapped around your neck as you try to angle the photo just right to where it only gives a tease of his face in the mirror's reflection. "how long does one photo take?"

•"it has to be perfect," you reply, eyes focused on your phone as you wiggle it in different directions to get the best possible view. "crouch down a little more, so more of your jawline shows."

•he leans down, and his breath fans across your neck and ear as he sighs in frustration. you can't deny the little tingle it made you feel inside. but hey, anyone would be nervous if a brick wall like bi-han was in breathing vicinity...

•you snap the photo, seemingly satisfied but now fighting a flustered expression. when you look it over, you realize no, this isn't enough. johnny would leak his own sex tape with a model to beat you at this stupid game, and while you weren't necessarily ready to start blowing the ninja, you knew you needed to get one step ahead.

•"can we take... one more?" you ask sheepishly, already trying to put into words what exactly you're going to ask from this expressionless man.

•"only if it's quick," he replies with a frown, crossing his arms.

•you take a deep breath, spinning to face him and nearly chest to chest from the tightness of the small bedroom you were given.

•pointing to your bed, bi-han almost instantly understands. his lips turn into a thin line as his cheeks are brushed with warmth, warmth that he tries to conceal from you with his hand as he rubs his face.

•he sits himself on the bed, propped up on his elbows with a knowing look in his eye. it's difficult to maintain eye contact as you crawl onto the edge of the bed, hesitant to do what you wanted. for a moment, you want to pull away and trash your entire plan. there's no way you were about to climb up and sit on a ninja grandmaster's lap as revenge against your movie star ex. how in the genuine hell did you end up in this situation??

•"come on, woman," bi-han grumbles, sitting up for a moment to abruptly wrap his hands around your hips and pulling you to sit atop his lap. you tense up, realizing you're now straddling him... and lowkey, he looks good under you. he also just manhandled you. hm. curious.

•you try to shift yourself to comfortably rest on his hips before seeming satisfied with the position. shakily, you reach up to snap a selfie, one that conceals his face but shows you sticking your tongue out and flipping the bird.

•and then you felt it.

•at first, it went unnoticed due to your nerves about the uncharacteristic closeness. but, once you settled to snap the photo, you realized that... bi-han was rock fucking hard underneath you. you weren't sure if you should acknowledge it, but regardless, it felt so perfectly sized against your clothed folds, and you make your interest unintentionally obvious when you let out a nervous whimper. bi-han's eyes remained trained onto yours with a hint of hunger in his low-lidded gaze. even though he wanted to initially hide the boner, it was now abundantly obvious and he felt a surge of confidence gauging your reaction. the hands that rested on your hips tightened, his cold fingers digging into your flesh.

•"you feel that?" he grumbles out, his body feeling suddenly incredibly hot against yours. you swallow and nod. as you do, his firm grip starts to rock your hips back and forth against his cock, the friction of the fabric dividing you two sending you wild already. "whose is bigger?"

•"...yours," you answer breathlessly, allowing yourself to be controlled by the cryomancer's hands. your confession was true, too. johnny's dick was long and lean, but bi-han's.... lord. it felt thick. even through layers of clothes it felt like it could tear you down the middle if he pounded hard enough. a new part of you wanted to find out.

•with a sudden haste, bi-han hikes up your skirt and top, holding the clothes bunched around your waist as he abruptly gives you even closer contact to his cock. you could feel it twitch and throb, and every part of you wanted to sink it into your throat to see how well it hugs your mouth's fleshy walls. his hands crawl underneath the bunched up clothes and settle on your hips, this time directly gripping the plush of them.

•a shiver shot down your spine, both with sudden arousal and the frosty trails on your body from his fingertips. even if he wouldn't admit it, he was just as excited as you were. he let out a low growl feeling your pussy leak through your panties and dampen his dick.

•"i hated the way he looked at you," he'd grumble, eyes fixated on the friction he was creating by manhandling your frame to grind against his. "wanted you all to myself — ngh —"

•you wanted so badly to stop and unpack that wild, sudden confession, but you were already fiending for his popsicle like a motherfucker. through your hazy vision, you see bi-han lock eyes with you, a devilish glint present. he reaches between the two of you and palms himself while you try to relieve the pressure on your clit using the back of his hand.

•finally fed up with the foreplay, bi-han pushes you off of him, making you elevate your body on your knees. he tugs his shirt up and his pants down. his member springs free from the tight constraints, and lord help us all, it's as long and thick as it felt through the pants.

•"you wish to get back at that pompous wannabe?" he asks, voice dangerously husky. "get to it then." obeying like a dog, you settle between his parted legs. still holding his dick, he slaps it against your cheek expectantly.

•the tension, the hunger, and the high emotions overtook your strength to remain proper in front of the grandmaster as you eagerly licked at the base of his shaft, trailing kisses all the way to the warm tip. once you feel properly sure of his size, you slowly but surely sink him into your mouth, barely able to get his dick deep enough without causing a strain on your jaw muscles. bi-han tries to keep his arousal under wraps, but when he feels you hollow out your cheeks to give him the greatest pleasure possible, he lets out a little whine of surprise, though it still sounds more animalistic due to his grumbly voice.

•you hold this position for a moment, letting your warmth completely encapsulate his freezing body. you were starting to see stars in the corner of your eyes before bi-han harshly pulls you up by your hair, making you sputter for breath. a thin trail of saliva follows your lips as he raises your head.

•"wait," he commands breathlessly, fumbling with his other hand to find your phone that was discarded onto the mattress. when he does find it, he struggles even more, mind blank from horniness and also his unfamiliarity with smart devices. you chuckle to yourself, climbing back up to his chest and weaving your way between his arms to show him how to record a video. when it's finally figured out, you crawl back down to where you were and grab his cock with a full hand, stroking it lazily. he winces.

•"sensitive already?" you ask in a low tone, giggling to yourself. bi-han didn't have much time to relieve his sexual desires, so it's no wonder that the slightest bit of head nearly sends this man flying to the moon. "i expected more from you, grandmaster—"

•"—shut the fuck up," he replies sternly, not finding your teasing all too funny. "i'll silence that whore mouth."

•woah

•and with that, he holds the phone up, angled downward at you as you angle your lips on his tip again. he grabs the fistful of your hair and sinks you down once more, this time holding you in place. you barely had time to get some air in before getting your throat thoroughly plugged. you put your hands on his thighs to ensure you'd stay upright, but always sure to look at the camera as you gag and drool.

•"that's more like it," he'll purr, pushing your hair from your face as he holds you still. he then directs his voice to the camera. "how about that, cage? taught your dog some new tricks. i'd say she's exceeding expectations."

•when he finally lets you breathe, you only get a couple gasps before willingly taking his cock again, this time bobbing rhythmically. bi-han, as a ninja, is incredibly good at staying silent, so all he can do is let out occasional exhales and sharp intakes of breath as you suck him off.

•you're sure to put on more of a show than usual for the video, looking into the camera with a sultry smile even with your lips stretched out to accommodate for his giant dick. you've got an expression that says "fuck you."

•when bi-han has enough of your pace, he starts to buck his hips into your throat, creating a nasty gargling sound in the back of your head that would be otherwise nauseating. you're surprised he's not ripping the hair straight from your scalp as he death grips a fistful. frosty hands grip the sheets, solidifying them with a thin sheet of ice as he nears the edge. his body can't decide between lurching forward and arching back as you make him cum.

•he's a silent orgasm-haver. bi-han bites down hard on his lower lip as he releases, clenching his eyes shut and knitting his brows together. and boy, does he love to ride the high of fucking your face. he loves it even more knowing he'll have an audience.

•he wanted to cum into your mouth so badly, but even he knew better. he had to make the money shot something memorable. cum painted your face beautifully, dripping down your cheeks and catching in your eyebrows. there was even a thick streak starting from your hairline. with no time to ever do this himself, his jizz accumulated within him for quite some time, now soaking your entire face.

•bi-han stops the video, but only to snap photos of your messied, flushed face. gripping your cheeks to hold you in place, he's sure to make sure every drop of cum is within camera shot as he catches his breath.

•you swipe a glob of his load from your forehead and stick your finger in your mouth, tasting his arousal for you with a smirk.

•"definitely sending that to him," you giggle as he tucks his dick back into his pants. "i'm in your debt, bi-han." normally, he would've protested the use of his first name from an associate of liu kang, but he was too high from his orgasm to really give a shit. instead, he grumbles a small "mhm," and nods, fighting a little smirk himself.

•he stands up and grabs a loose towel, holding up your face more sweetly this time as he wipes you clean. the gesture was oddly soothing. he seemed like a pump and dump kind of man, and he probably is! but you're touching a sweet spot he didn't know he even had. even so, he's silent, never once communicating this and instead expressing it through the minor gesture.

•a relationship doesn't quite blossom yet, but the sexual tension between you two is now incredibly obvious to the lin kuei. his gaze lingers, as does yours. the touches during training last a moment longer. your silly little plan of making johnny angry seemed to have blossomed a new... situationship? we'll unpack that some other time.

•the following morning, your phone rings. it's johnny.

•"DID YOU BLOW THE FUCKING ICE NINJA?!"

[milkywaygalaxygurl]

The Go-Ahead - Art Donaldson

request: hiii could you do any plot/story/scenario where tashi knows art is interested/in love/infatuated or just attracted to reader so she gives him the green light as long as it’ll have him play tennis better … sorry if this doesn’t make sense or is weirdly specific i’m just a little obsessed with this scenario

i took some liberties with the personality of Y/N since it wasn’t specified, i made her shy and a little awkward because i could definitely see art falling for an adorably shy woman after being with tashi’s confident self for so long. i wrote this as the reader being female because gender wasn’t specified, but let me know if you’d like me to change it!! i personally really hate the way i wrote this and it’s definitely not my best, i honestly might rewrite it eventually because there’s kind of a lack of romance but i really hope y’all like it:’)

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Female!Reader

Warnings: thoughts of infidelity, probably swearing, suggestive words, idk if i missed anything else but yeah

Word Count: 2.2k

Description: Y/N caught Art’s eye the second she walked into the Stanford reunion Tashi had practically forced Art to attend. He couldn’t believe how breathtakingly beautiful she was or the fact that he was thinking this way about someone other than Tashi. Unbeknownst to Art, Tashi notices and forms a plan.

Art loved Tashi wholeheartedly, he always had and always would. Some part of him knew that Tashi would never love him as much as he did her, but he felt content knowing she chose him to spend her life with. Even if they fought about tennis and rarely spoke about anything else, Art never thought anybody could take his eyes off Tashi.

That is, until you walked into the venue the Stanford reunion was being held in. It’s almost as if his eyes were drawn to your presence entering the room, eyes immediately snapping towards you. His breath catches in his throat for a second, his eyes widening slightly. He lets out an awkward cough, nodding when Tashi asks if he’s okay.

He tries not to make it obvious when he glances back at you to catch another look, but Tashi notices and follows his line of sight. She has to force herself to hold back a scoff at first, but an idea quickly forms in her head. She studies you just like Art, noticing the way you give awkward smiles and how the flush in your cheeks never seems to lessen as you fidget awkwardly and stumble through small talk with former classmates.

You are beautiful, even Tashi can admit that, she doesn’t blame Art for allowing his eyes to wander (especially with the state of their relationship). As you move closer to the couple, Tashi suddenly realizes that she had a class with you all those years ago. You were kind to her after her knee injury, you weren’t the best of friends but you had taken notes for her while she missed class for physical therapy and always offered a helping hand when needed.

She glances at Art, noticing how his eyes are still trained on you. She chuckles slightly before making her mind up, looping her arm through Art’s and practically dragging him over to where you stand.

“Y/N! Hi, it’s so good to see you!” She plasters on a smile, chuckling slightly when you look at her wide eyed for a second. You were still the same shy girl you were back then, it had honestly always annoyed Tashi how unconfident you were.

“Tashi! Wow, you look amazing.” You smile at her after getting over your initial awkwardness, turning to look at Art for a second before looking back at her. Tashi clocks it immediately, but doesn’t let either of you know.

“Oh hush, look at you! I’m sure you remember Art, right?” She lays a hand on her husband’s arm, turning to look at him. He’s looking at you like a lovesick puppy and, in all honesty, it doesn’t bother her one bit.

“Yeah, of course! You guys were like the prodigies of our class, I think you guys are part of the very few of us who actually went on to make a name for themselves.” You chuckle, glancing at Art again.

It takes Art a minute to even speak, but his mouth finally starts to move as he holds a hand out to you. “It’s nice to meet you. Y/N, was it?”

You shake his hand softly, nodding your head. “I helped Tashi a little after her knee injury, I’m honestly surprised she even remembered me!” Chuckling awkwardly, you take your hand back and hope he didn’t notice how sweaty it was.

Tashi pretends to notice something across the room, apologizing profusely and saying she’ll be right back. When Art tries to follow her, she shoos him away and tells him to stay talking with you. He tries not to seem too excited at the idea, but the way he turns around quickly gives him away.

Art notices the way you fidget with the rings on your fingers and the way your eyes dart around awkwardly as if you’re looking for the nearest escape. He honestly thinks it’s adorable, but tries his best to help you feel less awkward by starting a new conversation.

“What was your major?” He asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. The question seems to ease the tension, your eyes lighting up as you smile.

“Originally it was Journalism but after I realized that I’d have to interview people, I very quickly switched to just having English as my major. I wrote a few books that didn’t get as much attention as I hoped they would, so I’m an editor for a magazine now.”

“It’s actually kind of crazy, the last thing I edited was a column about you.” You smile at him, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat when he smiles in return.

“All good things, I hope?” He asks, making you nod your head quickly as you jump to reassure him.

Tashi never returned to the conversation despite swearing she would and you talked with Art for what felt like hours. Before you knew it, you were laughing like old friends and the conversation was flowing nicely. You catch yourself wondering what it would be like if you had met him all those years ago, if maybe he’d have had a crush on you before he dated Tashi.

You knew it was wrong to think that way about a married man, but you rationalized it out by saying they were just thoughts. Truly, that’s all they were. You would never try meddling in a relationship that seemed as strong as theirs. You didn’t realize how long you’d been talking until you glanced down at your phone, your mouth falling open in shock.

“We’ve been talking for so long!” Turning your phone around to show Art the time, his own mouth falls open too before splitting into a grin.

“I really hate to say this, but I really have to go. I have to go into work early tomorrow and I really need to get a good night’s sleep beforehand.” You look up at him with puppy dog eyes and Art swears he felt his heart skip a beat.

“That’s alright, I really enjoyed talking to you. Let’s go find Tashi and we’ll walk you out, we should get going too.” He looks around for a second and almost immediately spots Tashi, pointing her out to you so you two can make your way over.

You say an awkward goodbye once you’re at your car and before you step in, Tashi is calling out to you for your number. “We should keep in touch! We can all go out for drinks sometime.”

You give it to her, honestly a little startled she wanted to keep in contact. You exchange another goodbye before driving off, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before you see Art again.

It took Tashi all of two seconds to turn to Art with a raised eyebrow. “You seemed to really like her.” Her voice is deadpan, her arms crossed.

“Wh- What do you mean?” He looks at her wide eyed, like a child who’s been caught. She chuckles, shaking her head.

“I saw the way you looked at her when she walked in and the whole time you guys were talking, I’m not stupid.” Art gaps at her, his mouth opening and shutting a few times.

“Art, I don’t give a fuck. Why do you think I asked for her number?” He’s still gaping at her, trying to find the right words.

“You’ve been playing like shit, you can’t deny it. She made you the most excited I’ve seen you in a while. If she’s what it takes for you to play good again, I don’t care if you fuck her. Hell, you could enter a full blown relationship with her and I wouldn’t care if it means you play better.”

Art tries to defend himself, tries to say he would never do that to Tashi, but part of him is excited at the prospect of her giving him the go-ahead. After lots of convincing and back and forth between them, Art decides to just go for it. You guys all hung out after that night a few times, but eventually Tashi was always “busy” and it turned into just you and Art going out for drinks or watching movies. It wasn’t until after a few months of these hang outs when Art decided to bring up the idea to you.

“I know this is a really strange offer, but I really just need you to hear me out before you say anything.” His words make you raise an eyebrow as you turn to look at him. You notice how nervous he seems, his thumb rubbing the ring on his finger.

“I find you attractive, I honestly really like you. I know I’m married to Tashi, but her and I have honestly been going downhill for months. All we ever talk about is tennis, she barely even wants to touch me anymore. I- I know it’s strange, but she gave me permission to pursue something with you. If you’re interested, that is.”

You stare at him for a second, your face void of any emotion. “Did she really give you the okay or is this just some manipulation tactic? Because you know how I feel about cheating.”

He nods his head quickly, “If you want, you can talk to her about it. We’ve been discussing this since the night I met you, that’s why these hang outs eventually turned into just you and I.”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t want this, but you didn’t want to enter into something that would inevitably cause pain for all parties involved.

“So, what, I’m just supposed to fuck you and then let you go home to your family? I can’t do that to myself, Art.” In the months that you’d been hanging out with Art, your shyness slowly disappeared and he got to see the more confident side of you. He couldn’t deny that it made him like you all the more.

“I-I mean, if you really wanted to, we don’t have to just do that. We could be in a relationship, I could stay with you some nights and go home for Lilly other nights. I don’t want you to think I just want to use you, because I don’t want to. You’re amazing, Y/N. These past few months have been so nice, I love just getting to sit with you and not having to talk about tennis or training. You make me feel normal, like I’m not just a puppet.”

You rub your forehead again, closing your eyes to think. “We can do this, but all three of us need to sit down and discuss boundaries. We need to do this right.”

Art’s face breaks out into a bright grin, his hands reaching for your own. “That’s fine with me, thank you for giving this a chance.”

The next day, you found yourself having the awkward sit down with him and Tashi to discuss boundaries. It took nearly the whole day, but eventually things were settled. With the weight of that off your chest, you felt comfortable starting something with Art.

Months went by and your love for Art only grew deeper. He was so kind and attentive, always making sure you were still okay with the arrangement and that you felt cared for. You feared the dynamic would be weird, but you often saw Tashi and even met Lilly a few times. Things were going amazing and you couldn’t ask for anything more.

It was nearly six months into your relationship the first time Art told you he loved you. You were lying in bed, the TV casting a glow in the otherwise dark room. Art was cuddled into your side, his head resting on her chest and his arm wrapped tightly around you. As he listened to the sound of your heartbeat and felt your chest move with every breath you took, he realized just how glad he was to have met you that night. He had gotten better at playing, he felt more loved than he had honestly ever felt with Tashi, and he was truly and utterly content with his life.

“Y/N?” He whispers your name, propping his head up on your chest to look at you. You look down at him, running your fingers through his hair as you smile softly at him. You hum softly to let him know you’re listening, it was something you did often that made Art’s heart skip several beats.

“I love you, truly. I’m so glad I met you and I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.” His words make you smile, your cheeks heating up as you lean down to give him a million kisses.

“I love you too, my sweet boy.” Art grins at you, sitting up so he can kiss your face. You giggle at the feeling, grabbing his face to pull him in for a real kiss. You were truly so grateful for Art and your relationship, and you were grateful for Tashi allowing it. This was the happiest you’d been in years and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[darkbluekies]

The track runner reader fic w/Silas got me thinking👀

Hear me out okay..

Ballerina reader x Silas

How would he react to see her practice,her shows

Swan lake, Giselle..

Italian fouettés, Entrechat quatre x3 royale, Developpe A la Seconde etc

Yk the high extensions,leg holds the whole shebang

Just a thot👀

Stolen part

Yandere!mafia x fem!reader

Summary: you've finally been granted to do ballet, but when Silas sees you upset, everything turns into a nightmare

Warnings: yandere, mentions of blood, broken bones, a lot of guilt and confusion, panic attack(?), reader just feeling horrible

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I took some creative liberty with your request, I hope that's okay. And uh, I know 0 about ballet, so take this with a handful of salt<3

One performance — that’s the deal. One single performance and then you’ll go back to normal life. You nearly fainted when he told you that you could do one dance, after months and months of begging, pleading and crying. You almost started threatening him when you became desperate enough. 

“Well … we’re here”, Silas sighs as his men stop the car. “You know the rules, don’t you? Do we have to go through them again?”

“No, I know them”, you smile. 

You take his hand while exiting the car. Silas smiles and squeezes your hand softly. It’s worth all the trouble, he tells himself. If you’re happy, then it’s all worth it.

When you enter the practice room, you’re met by a dozen other girls wearing the same clothes as you. It’s been such a long time ago that you’ve felt so … included. There’s a certain feeling about wearing the same thing that creates a unity you can’t explain. 

“Run along”, Silas tells you, giving you a small push towards the group. 

He walks over to the instructor. He can tell right away that she knows who he is. He braces himself. She can either call the police or let him go. If she decides to call the police, he’ll have to create a blood bath and snatch you back in the car. 

“Can I have a word with you?” Silas asks politely. 

“Sure”, the woman answers hesitantly. 

“I can tell by the look on your face that you know very well who I am, so I want to make a deal with you.”

“What type of deal?”

“If you don’t call the cops on me and give my girlfriend an honest chance — because I know that she’s magnificent — I will fund your entire club. All clothes, all expenses, all props, venue, is on me. Fair?”

The woman thinks for a moment. Silas know that the club is underfunded. He knows that she has to agree.

“Okay”, the woman says shortly. 

“Good”, Silas replies and waves at you to come over. 

You skip over with sparkling eyes. He pulls you in to kiss him, in front of everybody. His kisses are always controlled by him, but they always show extremely much love for you, a deep hunger nothing can satisfy. 

“My men will stay to supervise, to make sure nothing happens to you”, he says and gives you another kiss. “Have fun now, little thing. I’ll see you soon.”

You nod. Silas squeezes your shoulder, gives the group of ballerinas a warning stare and then leaves. 

You return to the group. The people who knows who Silas is give you nervous gazes and the ones who don’t look at you with jealousy. 

Well, this is starting off great, you’ll absolutely make many friends.

Time goes on. Silas enjoys seeing the wise smile on your face every time you exit the building after a practice. Every time you’re in practice, he takes the opportunity to do some errands. He always makes sure to come pick you up clean, never covered in blood. 

But one day, you’re crying when you meet him. His heart drops in an instant and he thinks that putting you in ballet was a mistake. It wasn’t worth it at all. 

“What happened, baby?” he asks worriedly and takes you in his arms. “What did they do to you?”

You struggle to talk through your violent sobs. He believes that you’re having a panic attack, but you can still move relatively well. Silas grabs your shoulders and waves at his men to come over. 

“Y/N, what did they do to you?” he asks and looks at his men. “Did any of the others hurt her?”

The men shake their heads. 

“Y/N!” Silas says sharply. 

“I-I didn’t … get … the ... lead role”, you manage to get out through your sobs. 

You know it’s silly, of course. Honestly. It’s childish to cry over not being the main character, but this was your only chance to be on stage before you’ll get pulled back into capture. You’ll never have this much freedom again. It’s embarrassing to cry about this, and you know that very well, but they don’t know how much you’ve suffered to even be in the practice room. 

“You didn’t?” Silas asks shortly. 

“No”, you cry. 

Silas turns to his men and hands you to one of them. 

“Bring her to the car”, he says. “I will be back soon.”

He disappears into the building. The practice room is empty, apart from the constructor who is cleaning up after today's class.

“Oh”, she says, noticing him. “Can I help you?”

“If you're smart, you can”, Silas says coldly. “I heard that Y/N didn't get the lead role. I'm just wondering why?”

“She wasn't exactly what I had in mind for this particular role … I mean, she's extremely good, but just not what I had in mind when I visualized the lead. She's a runner up, though.”

Not good enough, Silas thinks.

“Okay”, he says and nods. “I see.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turns around and leaves. Anger is burning through his chest. Seeing you so upset makes him see red. He would burn down the entire world for you to watch you smile. He walks back to the car where you sit in the backseat and the two men in the front. 

“Hey, baby”, he smiles and sits down beside you. “Are you feeling better? Should we get some food on the way home?”

You nod. Silas smiles and wipes your tears. His men are forced to hear how he sucks the air out of you in the backseat. He devours your lips, trying to comfort both you and himself. He holds you in his arms, letting you cry. The more you cry, the more embarrassed you feel. You’re ashamed because you can’t understand why you are so upset over it. It’s just a role, you’ll still be on stage, won’t you? Is it because you think that you’re better than the others? That you deserve the position of the lead? Do you deserve it because you’re so good or because this is your only chance? The others have many more opportunities to get the role you want, why can’t you just get one? You’ll never be seen again, why can’t you get it?

Why are you thinking like this? You’re not entitled to anything. Has Silas imprinted the narrative that you’re so special, so wonderful that deeply into your brain? Do you believe that you’re this special, one of a kind person that deserve everything because you’re so special? 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Silas asks, caressing your cheek. “You look so thoughtful. Let me in.”

“I- … I- …”, you start, but can’t seem to talk — you can’t even formulate your own thoughts.

“Breathe, baby. It’s okay, you’re with me now.”

“I am breathing … I just …”

“Just …?”

You shake your head. 

“Just hungry”, you lie. “And tired.”

“It’s okay, you’ll get some food soon”, Silas promises and kisses your lips once again. “We’ll stop by McDonald’s.”

You get your food and you eat together with Silas in your bedroom, but you can’t stop thinking about the lump in your stomach. Why are you so upset? Why can’t you put words on your feelings? 

You lay awake the entire night in your empty bed (because Silas is out working) and think. Crying over not getting the lead role won’t make you enjoy the last few weeks in the club. Ballet is your true love, you should do everything you can to enjoy it — specifically because you’ll not get it back. You should be happy with your role — you’re even a runner up! That’s fantastic. You breathe out. Ease sets into your heart. It doesn’t matter what role you get, as long as you have fun. 

When you enter the practice room the next time, you can tell that something is wrong right away. The girl who got the lead part … has crutches. You feel a shiver run down your back. Mortified, you shake your head. Silas. He must have done something to give you the lead role, that you so desperately wanted. He never got to know that you became satisfied with your original role. Guilt washes over you, suddenly you feel extremely sick. You need to take a hold on the wall to not fall. One hand presses against your chest to not vomit. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” one of the body guards asks as they hurry over. 

You nod sloppily. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god. This is all my fault. 

This is what you had been feeling bad about — finally you can put words on that weird feeling in your stomach. You were scared that Silas would do something to the girl that got the lead without even noticing it. If anything, that shows how close you know Silas.

“He … he did this … didn’t he?” you whisper, feeling distant. 

“The boss couldn’t stand to watch you be upset”, one of the body guards answers quietly, only for you to hear. “He made sure to get you the role he wanted.”

You’re freezing. That poor girl. Suddenly you don’t want that part anymore. The part is dirty, and your hands are covered in blood. 

Your mind is anywhere but in practice when you dance your stolen part, but your body works for you. 

Silas is standing out in the parking lot a wide smile when you walk out. He opens his arms for you, but you don’t walk into them. 

“Are you happy now?” he asks. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Silas …”, you say quietly and shake your head. 

He tries to grab you, but you jerk back. Silas frowns. 

“But you wanted it”, he says. “You had a panic attack. I gave the part to you.”

“Silas, I feel extremely guilty. I stole her part. It’s not fair.”

He grabs your shoulders and force you to look at him. 

“The world isn’t fair, little thing”, he says. “If you have some power, use it. I want to use my power to make you happy, baby. You’ll do better than that girl ever could. You should have gotten that part from the very beginning.”

He gives you a kiss and brings you to the car. 

When the day for the performance arrive, you refuse to come out of the dressing room. The costume looks horrible on you. You can only see the other girl in the mirror. None of the other girls have talked to you after the lead girl ended up with crutches. They all know why you got the role. And how you got it. 

“We start in five minutes, get out!” the instructor tells you and basically pulls you out on stage. 

You see a lot of familiar faces in the crowd. Silas has brought as many of his men as he possibly could. Silas himself is sitting in the front row with his right hand man beside him, smiling at you. You look around. All his men are smiling at you. Weirdly enough, it’s somehow cute. They all look like they could kill anyone in any second, but the second you look their way, big, genuine smiles creeps up on their faces. Turning them from killer machines to teddy bears. 

You dance to the best of your ability. This is what you’ve been begging and pleading for. Better enjoy the spotlight while you can. You can’t help but feeling dirty throughout the performance. Silas, however, has never looked this proud before. 

The second the applauds roll in, you fall to your knees, crying. You fulfilled your childhood dream, but at what cost? A girl broke her leg because of your emotions, you stole her role … you’re covered in dirt that you can’t wash off. You don’t deserve these applauds. You don’t deserve any of this. 

“Y/N!” Silas gasps and runs up on the stage with his right hand man by his side. “Are you okay, baby?”

“I want to go home”, you sob. “Get me out of here.”

Silas nods and waves at his men to walk out. He picks you up and follows his men. 

“You did so well, baby”, Silas smiles while walking. “I’ma always proud of you, but this was something else. Everyone saw how absolutely fantastic you were. You’re an absolute badass, baby. I fucking love you so much.”

You smile slightly. It’s finally over. You’ve achieved your dream — although you wish that you never had done it — and now, you’re going back to your locked bedroom. You almost long for it. 

[jyoongim]

A Deal With God

Themes: fem!reader, Morningstar!reader, Angst, mention of character death, secrets, religious themeAlastor being Alastor, fluff, slight smut, deal-making,  soul possession, Lilith a shitty mother/wife/sister, established relationship, difficult family dynamic, there’s a trope in here I just don’t know what to call it?

Chapter 1

chapter 2

You had ordered Niffty that some rooms needed to be spruced up and took the liberty to tidy up the lobby yourself.

You hummed to the sound of the song playing on the radio as you neatly stacked whatever plans Charlie was coming up with in the night.

Charlie.

Your heart ached for the Princess.

After Lilith left, the Princess had founded a hotel to help redeem the souls of the damned.

You were unsure of her plan, but you could never deny her.

damn those puppy eyes.

So here you were, seven years later, helping your niece with her wild endeavor.

But you weren’t alone; 

“Aaahh just the doll I wanted to see!” A radio-like voice chirped.

Alastor.

You smiled in greeting to the lanky demon.

Alastor, the famed and fearsome Radio Demon.

You were a bit skeptical when he showed up at your door, but when he offered to help Charlie you took him in.

Who were you to say no to help? You needed the extra hands.

”Hello Al, did you need something?” The tall demon smiled down at you as he shook his head.

”Nooo just thought I would check in. How’s Charlie’s new plan along?” You laughed “ooh their a coming thats for sure” nodding towards the board she had made the other night.

An idea popped into your head “Why don’t you make a commercial Al ” He went to make a comment, but you interrupted him “A proper commercial. The sinners need to know the benefits of the hotel and that there is hope”

you waltz up to him, a soft smile on your as you batted your eyes at him ”pretty please?” You wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He hummed, seeming to mull over the thought, chuckling

”fine fine”

You grinned “Thank you”

He whistled as he walked out the room, you smiled after him, getting back to your task.

Your phone ringed and you answered without seeing who called. “Hello?”

A nervous laugh responded “Heeeyyy bitch”

Lucifer.

You rolled your eyes “Hello to you too Luci ”

He groaned at the nickname.

”Ugghh so hows things been….” He wanted something.

“Whaaaaat? N-Nothing what makes you think I want something?” 

he couldn’t see your face, but you were making a pointed face.

”Okay okay its just- hows-hows Charlie?” He asked.

You frowned “Charlie is fine, through it wouldn’t hurt if you came by and saw your daughter Luci”

You hadn’t forgave him for setting Charlie up to chat with Heaven months ago when he should have been the one to settle things between them.

Charlie might have a optimistic view of the world, but she lacked experience. You should have been the one to be at that meeting.

But nevertheless.

”I-I don’t know about that…” he trailed off. But you were quick to fix that avoidant nature of his.

”Come to the hotel. Come see what your daughter is trying to do. No one would take this seriously if the King doesn’t approve himself. If not that, just come see your daughter Luci, she needs more than just me around” you felt bad for guilting him but this had to be done.

Charlie was growing into an excellent leader, you were sure she would make a great queen one day.

”so you’ll be here tomorrow? Great see you then. And don’t forget…I can see you so don’t make me drag your ass here tata”

———————————————————————————————

Charlie had gathered everyone to the lobby to come up with ways to recruit sinners to the hotel.

 Charlie was nothing if a perfectionist and always took on more than she could chew.

”Hey babe maybe its time to use some of that royal privilege” Vaggie suggested, she gave a quick look in your direction, making Charlie shake her head feverishly

”no no no my auntie has already done so much! I can’t ask her to do anything else”

You smiled, but chimed in to support Vaggie “She’s right Charlie.” Your niece gawked at you.

You approached her, slipping a arm around her shoulder in comfort “Now I know it’s been rough and weird between you and your father buuuuuuut I took the liberty in inviting him here” she groaned “what? Noooooooo” you shushed her whining

“Now now you’ll get to show him that what you’ve been doing is good for the kingdom. That your heart’s in the right place. He’ll help I promise”

Charlie rested her head on your shoulder, groaning in defeat

”w-when will he be here?”

”Oh in a hour”

”WHAT?!”

———————————————————————————————-

“OH Charlie its so good to see you!” Lucifer exclaimed pulling his daughter into a tight hug.

You smiled, giggling as Charlie choked out a response to her father. You pulled him away from her, giving him a hug

”Nice to see you too Luci” the King blushed and looked around.

”sooooo this is what you two have been up to? It sure got some….character ” he said nervously.

“Well we had some help” you gestured to Alastor. Lucifer eyes narrowed slightly “uuuhhh hhhuuuhh suuurre and who might you be?” Alastor eye twitched before quickly shaking his hand “Alastor! Pleasure to meet you sir… I must say you are…much unimpressive than what I imagined” he mused, causing the man to deadpan.

You cleared your throat “Alastor here has been a tremendous help with the hotel. I don’t know what we would have done without him” you praised.

Lucifer growled as Alastor wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you into his side.

Alastor sneered at the monarch “Aaah yes what creative ladies I have here. I am HAPPY to fulfill any wish they desire” he grinned down at you, giving you a slight squeeze.

”hmmmm sister dear why don’t you show me around” he whacked Alastor’s hand with his cane and pulled your arm away from him with a tight smile.

Charlie and Alastor followed the two of you as you gave a quick briefing of the hotel, letting Charlie take over and show her dad around.

You sighed happily, it was nice to see Charlie interact with her dad. You hoped that he would see the big picture and offer her some guidance and support.

You leaned your head against Alastor’s shoulder, turning to return to the lobby

”Let’s leave those two to catch up shall we?”

He huffed but followed you anyway.

———————————————————————————-

“Well it is a very good plan b-but I don’t know Charlie” Lucifer sighed. Charlie’s face dropped. “Daaad this is the only way to prove to Heaven that sinners deserve a second chance”

Lucifer looked away from his daughter “Charlie you don’t understand-” she huffed,frustrated “what don’t I understand?  That my own father don’t believe in me? If Auntie can why can’t you?” She was holding back tears.

You were on the fence at first too, but you were willing to help her out. You supported her crazy ideas and even encouraged that she gave it her all. 

Yes it might have been far fetched,  but you believed that Charlie could do what Lucifer could not.

”Heaven wont listen to you Charlie! They didn’t listen to me. What makes you think you can change their minds?” 

You knew it was a tough question.

Charlie didn’t know the hardship of how Heaven operated.

How much Lucifer had spent centuries trying to convince them that humanity was capable of doing amazing things.

Hell, if sinners had mortal souls why couldn’t they change after death?

But you knew. Heaven was convinced that the rules were black and white. Hell was made to punish the most severe sinners.

of course this is flawed for several reasons

Hell was a punishment to all who fell.

Lucifer knew this.

But why couldn’t things change?

Charlie turned to you, a look of frustration and sadness on her face. You intervened. “Luci just one meeting. One meeting with Heaven so Charlie can at least try. I know you can’t see that things could change, but think about the possibility. Why should a sinner be damned if there’s a second chance? Heaven shouldn’t be able to decide what a person’s soul is capable of”

Lucifer sighed.

You always had a way of making him see possibilities in things.

If you believed in Charlie, then that must have meant…

”what are the odds in this succeeding” he asked you

You blinked. 

You knew what he was asking.

Your sight of everything was always nearly right.

”Theres a few bumps to sort out, but it’ll be fine” you said.

he grimaced.

”Ill even go to Heaven with her” you offered.

Charlie was going to need all the backup she needed up there.

Angels could be a piece of work.

Lucifer sighed, before turning to his daughter “Fine. One meeting-” Charlie launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his small frame and she jumped around

”thank you thank you thank you!”

He smiled, returning her hug.

Charlie ran off to find Vaggie and tell her while you watched Lucifer.

”It wont stop anything” he said as you ushered him into the office.

You hummed, pouring a cup of tea as you looked out the window into the city on the horizon.

”You don’t know that” you whispered.

Silence filled the air between the two of you.

”H-have you…you know” he started to say nervously

You turned to him, seeing him fiddle with his wedding ring.

Your stomach curled.

”what” you growled out unintentionally 

he swallowed “Have you seen Lilith?”

You stilled. Your wrist burned in warning

promise me

”I can’t tell you that” you said curtly.

Lucifer glared at you “you’ve been saying that for years!”

”and you always get the same response” you said back

He stood up and angrily approached you.

”Have you no shame? I know you. You can’t lie to me!” He was starting to raise his voice

”Luci calm dow-” 

“NO! You can see everything! Everything and everyone! so tell me sister have you seen my wife…have you seen Lilith?!”

he was grabbing your arms, shaking.

You hated the look of despair on his face, hoping that you would at least tell him something.

But your wrist burned at his question, and your anger of being put in such a predicament got the better of you.

You hissed at him “No.” you held his glare, before he sighed letting you go. He ran a hand through his hair, backing away from you “Im sorry i-i didn’t mean that”

You clicked your tongue at him sighing

”Oh Luci…” you cupped his cheek, you couldn’t tell him where she was, no Lilith made sure of that,but you could show what you’ve seen.

Lucifer’s eyes widened as flashes of his wife appeared in his mind. He didn’t know where she was,but she seemed…happy.

”I know you worry about Charlie but I will never let anything happen to her. Heaven can act all high and mighty, but surely someone up there will see reason” you said to him, breaking him out of his trance.

He shook his head slightly, giving you a soft smile, nodding.

“Sooooo you and that bellhop…” he wiggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. You tensed, looking away embarrassed. He laughed “Oh? Shy? Not you” you glared at him, folding your arms across your chest in defense “w-what? Theres nothing wrong with me trying to pursue someone” you grumbled. Lucifer smiled. It was cute at how flush you were. 

You were always the serious one.

Never really doing things for yourself.

You always held duty and responsibility above all things.

So seeing you blush over some tacky, old times fuck  guy was refreshing.

So he teased “Oooh no the Queen can do anything or anyone she likes”

You growled at him, making him laugh harder as he gave you a hug and bid you goodbye as he teleported, leaving you with your thoughts.

“Well that was interesting” you whipped around to see Alastor walking from the shadows.

You laughed nervously, “Alastor! I didn’t hear you come in…how muuuch of that did you hear?”

He smiled down at you, tilting his head “ooooh nothing I wont repeat my dear” he tapped your nose.

He rested a hand on your lower back to escort you to your room like a proper gentleman.

He kissed you goodnight before venturing off to his radio tower. He had to organize some of his thoughts.

Alastor knew you were powerful he admits only that! but he hadn’t expected you to be the Queen of Hell itself.

Yes you were the Princess’s aunt but he just chalked it up to you just having power by blood alone.

The Queen of Hell….hmph. 

Pride swelled in his chest at the thought as well as a wicked smile graced his lips His darling was one of the most powerful in all of Hell that gave him a power trip and a lingering thought

How the fuck were you the Queen? 

Just how powerful were you?

And one last thought before he turned on his broadcast

How could he use that power you wielded?

@dasimp777 @projectdreamwalker @fairyv-ice @stygianoir @k1y0yo @thewinchestah @imgonnadielaughing-blog @purplecatsandhearts @blinderthanabats-blog @saphiresai @th3-st4r-gur1 @evedenn @queenariesofnarnia @yoitsnetto @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @alastorsdear @peachedtv

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comment below so i can see if I’m missing anyone who wants to be tagged…ALSO each chapter is linked to the last and next…

[stayinlimbo]

cat walk

pairing: lee minho x reader ft. soondoongdori requested?: yes; 100 followers celebration genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, i am only using my own cat experience, lowercase intended, slightly unedited word count: 935 note: thank you @infinity-tiny for the request. i definitely took some creative liberties with it but i hope you still like it ♡

if anyone had asked minho what he thought he’d arrive home to on a seemingly normal friday evening, he probably would’ve described his typical welcoming committee consisting of you shouting out a “hey min!” from somewhere in the living room or kitchen, and, if he was lucky, his cats poking out from their usual hiding spots to greet him. 

it most certainly wouldn’t have been this, yet here we are. 

minho’s hand hasn’t even released the front door handle before soonie’s pleading eyes bore holes into his soul. the cat’s large body is draped comfortably over your shoulder, but minho can tell that soonie would rather be literally anywhere else than where he currently is.  

the sound of rustling diverts minho’s attention towards the ground next to your feet. doongie’s sprawled out form rubs against a pair of shoes strewn to the side of the entryway as he noisily meows at the sight of his owner’s (father’s) figure barely stepping past the threshold. 

minho flicks his eyes back up as soft clicking noises reverberate around the narrow hallway, watching the final child hesitantly making his way towards your free, outstretched hand holding his favorite treat. 

“what are you doing?”

dori’s cautious steps halt at minho’s voice, making you quietly groan out in frustration.

“hey min, happy to see you, now shhh for a minute please,” you hastily whisper, gaze focused on the brown tabby. the soft clicking resumes and dori finally comes close enough for you to scoop him up in your arms alongside his older brother. 

you whirl around to face your boyfriend, who at long last has properly entered the house and closed the door. a radiant grin illuminates your face at the sight of him. if minho’s being honest, it tugs at his heartstrings a bit. you missed him and you’re so happy to see–

“hold soonie and dori for me, will you? i need to grab this bag real quick,” you rush out, not giving him much of a choice as you’re already transferring the two cats into his arms. 

okay, so maybe not. 

minho watches you jog over to a bag he didn’t see at the end of the hall, laughing at the tiny slip in your footing when you turn around to come back towards him. you plop down next to doongie, giving him a quick pet before fishing in the bag and pulling out a leash and a cat-sized reflective vest.

hold up. 

“you didn’t,” minho blanches, watching you put doongie’s head and paws through the green vest’s openings, hooking the leash to the rings that are now attached to the cat’s back.

“i did. soonie,” you reply, reaching up for your next (unwilling) participant. minho crouches down next to you, reluctantly complying with your demands. 

“you’re going out now?” he questions. poor soonie is not as cooperative as his younger brother, and it takes everything within minho to not save him out of pity for what is to come. 

“yes, they’re more frisky in the evening—dori—so i thought ‘why not?’”

“but it’s dark outside,” minho tries to reason, passing you the final feline. it’s of no use, you are too far gone. 

“that’s what the reflective vests are for. duh,” you counter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile as you let dori leap out of your hold. “there, don’t they look ready for the outdoors?”

the cats are all sprawled in different positions on the floor. soonie still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doongie is preoccupied with swatting the bag now, and if dori could make himself any smaller, he would turn into a perfectly shaped ball. 

no, ready isn’t the word minho would use. 

you must see the hesitance still lingering behind his eyes because  this time you sift through the bag to retrieve a human-sized reflective vest and pull it over your sweatshirt. 

“if it makes you feel any better, i’ll be wearing this the entire time with them to be extra safe. please, please, please let me try this,” you beg, looking at him with your best imploring eyes. 

minho has to give it to you, you’ve gotten better at this. you must’ve been practicing after the last time he told you “no” to something he can’t even remember at this point. 

he lets out a sigh at your unwavering gaze, finally giving in to your pleas. “...did you at least get me one?”

“of course i did, who do you think i am?” you scoff lightly, digging through the bag and extending your hand towards him with his very own green reflective vest. 

as minho slips on what, in his opinion, is the ugliest vest he’s ever seen in his life, he can’t help the smile blooming on his face growing wider. although this may be one of the weirdest methods (and he means it) you’ve used to get the family all together, he can see the commitment and energy you put into making sure everyone would be safe. 

you don’t need to know right now that he tried this years before he met you and that the cats will give up entirely about ten steps away from the walkway. he’ll let you discover that on your own. 

and as you call “hurry up, let’s go!” to him halfway out the door with soonie and dori in your arms, doongie trailing slowly by your feet trying to bite the loose leash dangling in front of his face, minho knows he wouldn’t trade this for the world. not when he has the ones he loves most all in one place.

────────────────────────────────────────────

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taglist: @linospuddin @linocz

[b00kdiary]

Okay I've been debating about requesting this. However, I think you would do this lovely.

Reader is shopping for her wedding dress and is really excited only for the workers. They treat her terribly for her size and make her feel uncomfortable, so she leaves trying on only like 2 dresses and feels icky and when her mate (Cassian) wants to cuddle he can sense somethings off especially when he evades his touch.

Take some liberties with it. But I had this experience recently with my bridesmaids, and we didn't feel insecure, but we all left feeling really angry and upset

Full disclosure I did write something similar to this with Rhys, but I would honestly love your take with Cassian because I think you write him beautifully 😍

Mine | Cassian

Cassian X Plus Size reader

Y/N goes wedding dress shopping and is confronted with females who make it clear that they think she’s unworthy of being Cassian’s mate, that she shouldn’t be his wife. Cassian shows her just how fucking wrong they are.

Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body image issues and mean comments, fluff, angst and Mild Smut. (A/N to the lovely person who requested this I am sorry this happened to you, and I hope this work is how you'd like!)

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

"A size 18?"

The female before me asked again – for the third fucking time.

And just like the first and second, her beautiful face twisted, lips curling in a cruel smirk, blue eyes widening and her tone – I could hear the condescension in it. But what really took the cake was how her eyes raked down my figure, from head to toe looking at me like I was dirt on her shoe.

"Yes," Mor breathed, speaking sharply through her clenched teeth. I glanced sidelong at her, nervous at the anger simmering in her golden eyes. "She said that already. Thrice."

The female's eyes slid from me to Mor, and she had the good sense to look uneasy at the blonde's wrathful expression. I kept my face neutral when she met my gaze, a faux-innocent smile on her pink lips before she dipped her head in a bare nod and scurried away.

I glared as her long, slender legs carried her, shapely hips and slim waist swaying with every graceful movement. No wonder why she was looking at me like I was the fucking elephant in the room. She was tiny, as was every other worker in this stupid shop.

"I am going to pluck her eyes from her head," Mor seethed quietly from beside me. I turned to her, bracing my hands on my soft hips as I met her furious frown. "And tear her tongue from her mouth. She is awful."

"Yes, she is," I chuckled, pushing down the ache in my chest as I met Mor’s stare. I wouldn’t let her meanness affect me. Nor would I let Mor try and defend my honour. “But we’re here for a wedding dress, this is meant to be fun. Just ignore her.”

Mor sighed, tucking the strands of her long blonde hair from her face. I gave her a hopeful smile and I could see her physically forcing down her anger for my sake. A second later her golden eyes met mine and she beamed.

“You’re right, this is meant to be fun,” Mor grabbed my hand, smirking as she tugged me along the shop floor to the dressing room, passing the dozens and dozens of gorgeous gowns. “And you're going to marry your mate. Cassian is one lucky male.”

We passed a group of female workers, re-organising the rack – and it was almost comical how they all halted at Mor’s words, eyes widening. Mor’s smirk broadened and she shot them a cruel, amused look.

“Mate and soon-to-be wife of General Cassian of the Night Court,” Mor continued, feigning ignorance to the group of females now listening. Their faces ashen as they flickered their gaze to and from me. “You really do need the perfect dress.”

I rolled my eyes at her gloating tone, slapping her hand in mild scolding as we stopped before the dressing room doors. I tried to ignore how the workers watched me, but I could feel their deadly stares boring holes into my back, all over my body – I could feel the awful judgement.

“I think the one we chose will be perfect,” Mor continued, oblivious to the stares I was getting and the whispers behind my back. I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing an easy smile onto my lips as she gushed. “The neckline, the bodice, the skirt – Cassian won’t know what hit him.”

“Let’s wait and see if they have my size first,” I muttered, drumming my fingers impatiently as we waited. Mor shot me a look, frowning but I just stared ahead. I didn’t want her to feel bad for me.

“If this store doesn’t another will,” Mor said, her tone a shade softer now. “Besides, we have the best tailors in Velaris, we could have a gown fit for a queen made for you if you wanted. I know Cassian would want nothing less than the best for you. So do the rest of us.”

A gown fit for a queen. Something fit for the mate of the General. The thought made me feel nauseous for some reason. Still, I gave Mor another smile, nodding along as if I liked the idea.

Mercifully, the female worker arrived before Mor could press me anymore about what I thought. Or unmercifully if the fake smile she wore as she approached was any indication. Or how she held that size 18 dress like the largeness of it might rub off on her.

Mor was right. She is fucking awful.

“Here we are,” She chirped, draping the bag over my arm with more force than necessary. She eyed the dress, disdain in them. “Size 18. Sadly, that is the largest we do. So, hopefully, it fits.”

Hopefully sounded more like I hope it doesn’t – sounded like she wanted to laugh at me when it didn’t.

“Hopefully,” I gritted out, shooting her a bland smile before walking away without another word.

Mor chuckled quietly as she followed after me, leaving that awful female standing there – dismissed. Perhaps it was mean, I was not someone who was ever rude to staff and yet this woman had brought that side out of me.

She’d also brought out the side of me that felt sick with nerves at the idea of trying this dress on.

***

Mor began crying the second I stepped out of the changing rooms wearing the dress.

“Oh Cauldron,” She laughed, red-painted nails coming to her face, wiping the endless tears away. I smiled as I descended the steps moving toward the mirrors. “You look beautiful, Y/N. Truly, you’re a dream.”

I smiled at my friend; throat too tight to voice how much her words meant to me. My legs shook a little as I moved toward the mirrors. The dress had fit, and she was right – I did look like a dream.

“Gods, it’s beautiful,” I whispered, voice shaking. I ran my trembling hands along the tight-laced bodice, down the soft silk material as it draped along my curved hips and fell in soft, elegant weaves down my thighs and to the floor.

It fit me like a glove. The simple, sweetheart neckline accentuated my chest, the bodice moulded perfectly against my waist and hips and the material looked rich, looked like it was made for a queen.

“You’re beautiful,” Mor said softly, coming to stand behind me in the mirror, tears glistening in her eyes as she ran her hands through my hair, “I think this might be the dress.”

“I think so too,” I laughed, my eyes burning with emotion as I stared at myself. Beautiful – it was a feeling I rarely experienced and yet, right now I did. I felt beautiful. “This is my dress.”

Mor shrieked, and I flinched at the shrill sound as she laughed, hugging me so tight I could scarcely breathe. I giggled, sniffing as I wrapped my arms around her slender frame, and I was beaming just as broad as she was.

Until the door cracked open.

And that female stood in the doorway. Frowning at me.

“You’ve found your dress then?” She said tightly, interrupting Mor’s elated nonsensical muttering about Cassian and the wedding and something about drinking. “It fits.”

I straightened as Mor pulled away from me, all remnants of a smile gone from her lovely face, and she was as stiff as me as we turned to that female. I swallowed as her blue eyes racked across my figure, something akin to disgust rippling like waves through her gaze.

“Yes,” I said tightly, my arms unconsciously folding over my chest. As if to shield myself from her judgment. “It fits.”

“Excellent,” She replied, sounding anything but thrilled. But still, she smiled, an ugly sight, before she beckoned Mor to follow her. “We can figure out the details while she gets out of the dress. I imagine it might take a while.”

Mor’s canines flashed and the female took a step back in surprise when Mor looked as if she might lunge for her – and rip out her throat with her teeth. But I clamped my hand down around her wrist before she could. Her golden eyes turned to me, incredulous, but I merely shook my head with a warning in my eyes.

“That’s fine,” I said sharply, meeting her blue eyes and raising my chin, “I’ll see you both in a few minutes then.”

“Fine,” Mor muttered, sighing as my fingers uncurled from her wrist. I could see the anger on her face as she followed after the female. And rightfully so, the female kept a good distance between them as they exited the room.

I released a tight breath as I moved back to the changing room, locking the door and slumping back against it once I was inside. And just like that, I felt awful again. I felt big like I was taking up too much space. I felt ugly like this dress wasn’t for me. And most of all I felt unworthy.

A mixture of anger and sorrow washed over me as I slipped out of the dress and back into my usual leggings and top. I tried to not dwell on how that female had looked at me, how swiftly she had yanked me back to reality with something as simple as her words.

It shouldn’t have mattered and yet, for some reason it did.

“Did you hear-“

I heard the soft giggling voice as I yanked my shoes on, two pairs of footsteps and rustling clothes sounding in the main part of the dressing room. Admittedly, I might have softened my movements to hear them. I had a horrible feeling I knew what they were talking about.

“The female who came in before asking for a size 18,” She whispered, spitting the size like it was acid on her tongue. My chest tightened. “She’s mated to and marrying General Cassian. Cassian who looks like a God is tied to her.”

“Cauldron spare him,” The other female choked on a laugh, and they both sounded almost sorry for him – like they pitied Cassian for having me as a mate. “The least she could have done is lose some weight for the wedding. I’m a size 2 and I would have tried to get down to a 0, never mind being her size.”

Her size.

Hot, searing embarrassment spread over me like a fire. But I forced down the humiliation and the bile twisting in my gut as I rose to my feet grabbing my purse and unlocking the door as loudly as I could. They stopped speaking and moving, instantly.

And my face was like steel as I stepped out into the main room. And watched their eyes widen, faces turning ashen. It would have been amusing if they hadn’t just torn my sense of self to shreds.

“Oh-“ One of the females gasped upon seeing me. Dumb struck. I saw them both glancing at each other, faces reddening and scrambling to find the words to explain what I had overheard.

I said nothing as I began stalking away, but I kept my face hard and my back straight as I exited the room and moved back through the shop floor. They were scurrying after me, like the rodents they were, likely to beg me not to say anything.

“Y/N!” Mor grinned as she stood at the counter, the first female and another, older female by her side, sorting through some paperwork. Mor’s smile dimmed when she saw my stormy expression. “What-“

“We’re not buying that dress,” I said simply as I stopped at the desk. All eyes latched onto me in surprise. “I won’t be buying anything from this store.”

Mor blinked at me. But upon seeing the severity on my face, the way my hands were clenched around my purse until my knuckles turned white, she didn’t push it.

“All right,” Mor nodded, dropping the papers in her hand, and slipping her bag around her shoulder. She looked at me and smiled, “Let’s go.”

“Wait. Wait-“

I glanced at the older female, seeing the confusion and panic on her face. But it was nothing compared to the panic of the female worker beside her. She looked like she might pass out.

“I’m the manager here, ladies,” The elder female said, and her eyes were kind. She seemed kind. “If you have any issues, please I will do whatever I can to remedy it.”

“You’re the manager?” I asked, and she nodded. I smiled - it was not a kind sight. “Then you should know that I intended to buy that dress, it was lovely. But I won’t.”

“Because of her,” I looked at the first female at her side, my tone as sharp as a blade. She stiffened, like a doe caught by a predator as all eyes fell to her.

“And them,” I turned back to where the two other females stood. Just as stiff, just as caught off guard. Still holding the garments, they had been fixing when they were discussing my body in the dressing room.

“I’d re-think the kind of people you employ here, how they speak and treat your customers,” I said, turning back to the eldest female. She had anger in her eyes now – like this wasn’t the first time. “Because I won’t pay to be ridiculed. And I will ensure that no female I know will come here either, not with the likes of them working here.”

“I apologise for whatever offence they caused, my dear,” She frowned, shaking her head at me. She genuinely looked upset. “I will deal with this accordingly.”

I turned my attention to the workers, to the anger and tears in their eyes. They glared at me as if this were my fault. I shot them a saccharine smile before turning, Mor on my heel as we walked away.

“Are you all right?” Mor asked me softly when we left the shop and walked back into the bustle of the main street.

“I’m fine,” I lied, keeping my eyes straight ahead. “I just want to go home. It’s been a long day.”

***

I hear Cassian and Azriel’s laughter the second Mor and I step into the house. And Cassian must sense my presence because I feel a soft brush down the bond, adoring and needy as if trying to coax me to come to him faster.

“Sweetheart,” Cassian grins the second I walk into the room, his handsome face lighting in the most breathtaking way as he rushes over to me. His arms are around me in a second, enveloping me in a great, crushing hug.

It would be sweet. Except his hands dig into the flesh at my back. I can feel my stomach pressing into his hard, carved chest. And he’s lifting me, Gods, I cringe as my feet lift off the ground and he’s bearing all my weight.

“Hey, Cass,” I mutter, trying to force an easy smile onto my lips as he drops me gently to my feet. I push at his chest, pulling free from his hold as I step back, and I don’t miss the small, confused frown he gives me. “Hey, Az.”

Azriel smiles at me, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes as I stiffly move around my mate, every inch of me hard and wilting from his loving touch.

“You don’t have any bags with you?” Cassian noted from beside me, his hazel eyes moving from Mor, who was shoving her several bags onto the counter and then to me, with none. “I thought you were going wedding shopping?”

“I didn’t find anything,” I said simply, moving on stiff legs to the dining table. I brush off Cassian’s hand on my back as I do so, and Azriel’s eyes narrow. But again, I ignore it all as I pour myself a glass of water, staring at the clear water as if fills my cup.

“That’s not true, she found a beautiful dress, the dress,” Mor said, her voice exasperated. And my fingers tightened around the glass as I brought it to my mouth and sipped. “She was going to buy it, but the workers were such assholes to her-“

“Workers?” Cassian cut in, voice sharpening. I sighed when he marched to me, towering height peering down at me with anger and concern in his eyes. “What shop? What did they say-“

“Nothing, Cass,” I kiss my teeth, brushing away the hand he brought to my face, annoyance flaring in my eyes. His frown deepened, and so did the tension in the room. “Nothing happened, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Mor argued, and my jaw clenched, as I looked away from my mate to the glass in my hand. “They were mean, Y/N and the way they spoke to you and looked at you, the way they treated you-“

“Mor!” I slammed the glass onto the table, so hard the wood shook from the impact. My sharp yell echoed through the silence as everyone stared at me – shocked. “I said it was fine. Just stop.”

Mor blinks at me, her face falling. I regret yelling at her immediately.

“I’m sorry,” She mutters, guilt in her eyes. I feel Cassian and Azriel’s attention unwavering on me and it’s too much. “I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” I whisper, voice shaking. My entire body is shaking as I step away from them, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “I’m- I’m going to go get some rest.”

“Y/N,” Cassian called my name as I turned, but I could feel the tears burning in my eyes. So, I kept walking, and walking, and walking.

***

I’m sitting on the chaise in one of Cassian’s old shirts, reading and re-reading the same line in my book when he comes in.

I don’t lift my eyes from that one page, even as my heart thunders in my chest as he silently stalks over to me. I know he can hear my heavy breathing and erratic pulse; I know he can feel my sorrow in waves down the bond.

His footsteps are nearly silent as he moves toward me, and I feel his eyes like a brand on my skin. I suck in a harsh breath when he stops and drops to kneel before me. His large hands brace on my thighs, his face levels with mine and I’m shaking as I keep my eyes down.

I hear his throat work and I clamp my eyes shut when his hand comes forward, gently taking the book I wasn’t reading from my hands and discarding it on the floor beside him. So gentle, so tender, I could feel it just in the way he watched me.

“Look at me, my love,” Cassian whispers, fingers curling around my thighs. I cringe as he kneads my flesh, but his touch is adoring. “Please, look at me.”

I took in a stabilising breath before I fluttered my eyes open and lifted them to meet his. My heart broke at the pain in his eyes, that lovely face twisted with hurt as he beheld me.

“I’m fine,” I muttered. My voice broke. But still, I shook my head, trying to smile. “I’m fine Cass.”

“No, you’re not baby,” Cassian frowned, and a tear slid down from my eyes when his hand lifted and cupped my cheek, darkness in his eyes as he tracked that tear. And the next. And the next. “What happened? What did they say? I can’t fix it if I don’t know.”

My bottom lip trembled as more tears fell from my face, and Cassian released a broken, desperate groan as I tried to fight back my sobs. I curled one hand around his strong wrist, just needing to hold him, to anchor myself to his strength.

“They were looking at me like I was disgusting Cass,” I whispered, unable to say the words any louder. I kept my eyes closed as I spoke - I couldn’t face him. “Like just for existing in my body I should be ashamed.”

He shook with rage. I felt it down the bond, that primal, deadly anger that he rarely ever exhibited but when he did it was catastrophic.

“And when they heard, I was mated to you, that I would be marrying you,” Another sob broke free from me and his hand tightened at my jaw. He leaned forward, trembling as he pressed his forehead to mine. “I overheard them talking about how gorgeous you were and how fucking awful it was that you were mated to me.”

Pain danced through the bond, his pain not mine.

“And I just felt so guilty,” I breathed, sniffing as the tears leaked into my nose and mouth, as Cassian let them soak him too. “You should have a female walking down that aisle who is beautiful and thin, I didn’t even try and lose weight for the wedding, I’m sorry Cass-“

“Stop.” He snarled. And my eyes blinked open latching onto the searing, furious rage in his gaze. “Stop.”

“Cassian – “ I gasped as he grabbed me, fingers curling around my waist and hips and before I knew it, he was lifting me, spinning us so that he sat on the chaise, and I was straddling him. So fast. So easy. Like I didn’t weigh a damn thing.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” Cassian said severely, hand cupping my cheek and forcing my eyes to stay on his. I had never seen him so serious. “I’m going to speak and you’re going to listen, okay?”

I nodded slowly, blinking away the tears as I stared at him.

His hand stayed on my jaw, the other curling around my thigh and keeping my body flush with him. Every inch of me felt every inch of him. I tried not to cringe at what he could feel.

“Do not ever let anyone, male or female, make you question your worth and beauty,” He said, his voice steady and firm. So were his eyes. “Do not ever let anyone make you feel like you are not enough. You are worthy of the world and more, do you hear me?”

I swallowed, my throat painfully tight but at the command in his gaze, I nodded again.

“I should kill those females for speaking about you like that, for making you think that any inch of you is ugly,” He snarled softly, canines baring, and I hated how he frowned, wanting to rub away the crease between his brows. “You are beautiful. You are the most beautiful female I have ever seen in my life. And I thank the Mother every fucking day that she made you mine. That she made me yours.”

A tear trickled down my face. Cassian’s eyes softened and he rubbed that tear and the next away with a tender brush of his thumb.

“Don’t ever think I don’t love your body, I do, I love every curve baby, I can’t resist them,” He sighed, and my eyes fluttered as his hand began to languish across my thighs, moving over my fleshy hips and the rolls at my back with need. “I don’t want you to change anything about yourself, not for me, or a wedding, or to fit into a dress. I want you just as you are.”

“Are you sure?” I whisper, my voice so weak. And Cassian’s face falls at it, at the doubt and vulnerability in my words. “I don’t want to embarrass you Cassian.”

“You could never embarrass me,” He scoffs, and my body melts into his as his hand curves around to cup my ass, dragging me forward so that not even an inch of space remains between us. “I am nothing but a brute. A bastard. But with you? I am the luckiest male in the world, I get to have your heart, your smile, and your body to love and worship and comfort for the rest of my life. I pity other males who don’t have you.”

“You’re not a brute or a bastard or anything else of the sort,” I frown, denial sparking like embers in my eyes. Cassian laughs, his throat thick with emotion, but he laughs at the immediate anger in me. “I love you Cassian. Just like you love me.”

I knew he did. I never should have questioned it.

“And I love you, baby,” He smiles, that kind of smile that knocks the air from my lungs. “I love you so fucking much. I don’t want you to forget it but if you do, I will always be there to remind you.”

My eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to mine, and the feeling is just like home. It’s like finding the other half of my soul and feeling it slot into place the second we meet. It’s perfect.

Cassian grins as I moan, my lips parting to let his tongue sweep in, hot and exploring, tracing against my teeth and tongue like he wants to devour me. His hands ravish along my body, palming my ass, cupping, and toying with my aching breasts, rubbing that deliciously thick length up into me.

“So responsive,” Cassian praises, running his tongue along my lips teasingly and I whimper as he rolls his hips against my wet, swollen clit, so hard I can feel him through his slacks and my underwear. “So beautiful when you’re rubbing against me, my love.”

“Cass,” I moan, eyes fluttering as presses wet kisses against my jaw, his hands cupping my ass and dragging me back and forth over his cock. He groans a rough, lewd sound, one that goes straight down to the heat between my thighs.

“I think you should forgo a dress on our wedding day,” Cassian grumbles against my cheek, hazel eyes flashing mischievously as I grind down against him, faster and harder. “I couldn’t imagine a better sight than you walking down that aisle completely naked, looking like the goddess you are.”

“Cassian,” My back arched, the slickness between my thighs growing more and more, especially as he growled those filthy words into my ears. His hands do not stop for a second, exploring and touching every inch of me.

“Whatever dress you wear will be on the floor anyway,” He chuckles darkly, and I clench around nothing when he shifts me back, his hand slipping between our bodies to untie his slacks. I groan when he pulls his cock free, eager as I push my underwear to the side and line him up to my entrance.

“I plan to make love to this perfect cunt from the second you’re tied to me,” He snarls softly and I’m a moaning mess as I sink, taking inch after inch into my wet core, loving how good he stretches me. “A dress would just be an unnecessary obstacle.”

His teeth nip and bite against my throat as he maxes out inside me and I have to brace my hands on his chest to calm myself, stretched so wide, feeling him so deep. He grins at how breathless and desperate I am, seated inside me like this was his home.

“You want me to walk down naked on our wedding day?” I lift my eyes to him, clenching around him and watching his eyes flutter at the feeling. I smirk, cupping his jaw as I slowly roll my hips. “With so many males present?”

His eyes darken. Like death.

“Rhysand, Azriel, Helion, Varian,” I roll my hips again, moaning at the spark of pleasure that runs through me. Cassian’s hands tighten on my hips, hard enough to bruise and my smirk broadens. “Lucien, Jurian, Eris-“

“I will kill them all before letting them see you naked,” Cassian bucks his hips up violently, slamming his cock to the hilt. I choke on a gasp, slumping into his awaiting embrace.

“Every-“ Thrust. “Last-“ Thrust. “Fucking-“ Thrust. “One.”

I cry out as he drives his cock into me, the sound of my arousal dancing through the air, mixing with my moans. Cassian groans, and I can feel that primitive Fae instinct in him as he fucks me as if he wants to imprint himself onto my very skin.

“You’re mine, baby,” His canines bite against the junction of my throat, just as his cock hits a deep, spongey spot inside me. “All fucking mine.”

“I’m yours, Cass,” I whimper, panting as he slides in and out of me at a brutal pace, every shift of his hips rubbing against my swollen clit. “I’m all yours, yours, yours – “

He smiles.

And fucks me for hours like I was his.

And he was mine. 

_________________________________________

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— ꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— ꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ warning ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ none; it’s really just vogel being silly! hope you’re ready for the dari, nica, and ring galore, hehe.

Kate: A tea party with all of the members of Vogel…?

Victor: Mhm, it seems like all of them have taken an interest in you. So they asked for a chance to speak with you.

Kate: Well, seeing as I’m the only one who isn’t Cursed, I guess it makes sense they would hold an interest.

Victor: Indeed. …How would you like to answer? It’s completely up to you.

V: …However, both parties hold their own secrets.

V: And we do often take care of them, seeing as they are diplomatic guests.

V: Should there be anything making you anxious, or you feel even slightly you don’t want to do this, or anything of the sort, then you are always free to turn them dow—

Kate: …Victor. I will attend the tea party.

Victor: Wait, really? Are you sure?

Kate: Since they have come here to deepen relations between the organizations, turning down an opportunity like this wouldn’t leave a good impression, I’d imagine.

K: And besides, I would like to be of some use to you and Crown, for extending such hospitality to me.

When I expressed my honest feelings, Victor’s expression softened in turn.

Victor: I’m grateful for your honesty. Well then, it’s about time I give them a response.

V: Ahh, but… I’ll have Roger listen in from nearby, so if something happens you can just give a shout, okay?

V: No matter the time and place, I’ll come running.

After Victor’s words resonated in my heart, several days passed——

Darius: Thank you for accepting our invitation, miss fairytale keeper.

D: Did you perhaps prepare everything on this table?

Lined up on the table was filled to the brim with snacks, causing Darius to blink.

Kate: Victor and I prepared them. We were hoping it would be nice if you could eat these…

K: And that we can be on more friendly terms as we’re chatting like this.

Ring: You want to be on more friendly terms with the ones who might kill you? I don’t see the point?

Kate: …Gh.

Nica: Riiing, now don’t go saying gruesome things like that. You’ll bother the Spatzi.

N: So sorry about that? Ring is a Jungfrau [1] who tends to get a bit more nervous around cute girls.

Wearing an amiable smile as he faced me, Nika lifted the heavy air around us.

Kate: Jung…?

Ring: Y-you don’t have to ask what it is! …And also, it’s not like I’m nervous.

R: But, I won’t deny… that you are… cute…

He was simply cautious around me; it was not as though he was really doing me any harm for now.

…Even so, though, I myself had become ever so slightly anxious.

(The members of Vogel are also Cursed, if I recall, right…)

(If they had such intentions, they could easily take my life.)

The fear that I had first felt when I started working for Crown started to paint over my heart, when…

Darius: …Are you nervous, by any chance?

Donning a childlike innocence, Darius looked into my face.

Kate: Ah… umm…

Darius: Well, well… if we did possess a strong ability much like Sir Rex…

D: I wouldn’t blame you for feeling powerless even while simply conversing.

D: But you can relax around us. My ability will not kill you.

D: ——In fact, there is absolutely no way it will. Okay?

Nica: Oh, me and my brother’s abilities aren’t really harmful too.

N: That said, it can probably make you feel really good and maybe make you feel a bit fuzzy, but that’s actually a good thing, isn’t it?

Kate: R-right…

(Just what ability does that entail…?)

Although I still held my doubts, I knew that their abilities didn’t pose a danger to my life, which ebbed my fear.

Darius: Now then, now that you know we mean you no harm, how about we partake in these?

With Darius’ encouragement, Ring quickly reached out to a cake in front of him.

Ring: Mm…! This is really good.

Taking large bites, the cake was gone before I knew it, and Ring then reached out for another snack.

Nica: Geez, Ring, why are you just taking whatever’s in front of you? Pick the ones that especially look good.

While saying so, Nica reached for a baked pastry diagonal of him.

Nica: I recognize this shape. Isn’t this from the high-class bakery near the castle?

Kate: I’m surprised you know of it! That shop——

Nica: Mn… hm? It’s good, but did it really come from that shop?

Kate: Well, what I wanted to say was that shop’s pastry shapes were the inspiration for these homemade sweets.

That said, this time, Victor and I did make our rounds around a variety of bakeries, and put this together.

And I tried to make homemade pastries here at the castle that were freshly made or were hard to obtain.

Nica: They’re ‘homemade’? So they’re basically cheap foods, in which case I don’t want any.

Kate: Eh—

Nica: Here, Ring, say ‘ahh.’

Nica pushed his half eaten pastry into Ring’s mouth.

Ring: Mn… this is also really good…

When he was eating it, Nica said it was ‘good,’ but maybe he’s actually not good with homemade pastries…?

Darius: Hey, miss fairytale keeper, this is Baumkuchen [2], isn’t it?

This time, Darius called out to me while pulling on my sleeve.

Kate: That’s right. We figured since you’re here, we could prepare some German pastries… or that’s what Victor said.

Darius: Ho-oh…

Darius used a knife to lightly cut a slice before he carried it to my mouth.

Darius: Here, have a bite?

Kate: Mn… mmm, it’s really fluffy and delicious!

Darius: I’m glad to hear. Then it’s my turn.

With layers of the Baumkuchen spilling, Darius brought it to his mouth.

Darius: Mm, it’s delicious. …But, I take it it’s not something made in most of England. So where did you get this?

Kate: Actually, while I was racking my head on how to make Baumkuchen…

K: Victor made a gadget that could make it.

In order to make a delicious Baumkuchen by the tea party, I practiced baking it day in and day out.

…I feel that I can keep the fact that for some time the castle’s snacks consisted of nothing but Baumkuchen to myself.

Darius: He made a whole gadget just for this? Hmm… he’s quite strange, I’d say.

Kate: I can’t argue with that… but I’m sure it’s just that he was happy.

K: Happy that you guys, who are also Cursed, have come to England——or rather, to Crown.

Darius: …The pleasure is ours. I’m delighted at how warmly we’re treated here.

D: I do like the Baumkuchen, so do make it again sometime.

Kate: Alright!

I was so glad he liked it that I gave an immediate answer, but…

(Making it is quite time consuming and requires skill… but I’ll try my best.)

Nica: This topic’s all well and good, but what I really want to hear about the Spatzi [3] herself.

N: You know, like what fragrances you like, or which types of guys you fancy, that kind of thing… what about you, Ring?

Ring: Mngh…!? U-uhm…

R: ………M-maybe, like, which color of the sky she most likes?

Nica: The sophistication’s lacking, I see.

Ring: And what’s the problem with that?

Darius: I do agree with Nika here though. I would also like to get to know you better.

D: But simply asking would be a bore, so how about we play a guessing game?

Nica: So, Ratespiel? Now we’re talking.

Darius: Let’s make it so each person can make a single guess, and until then, we can continue asking questions…

D: Come play with us, why don’t you, miss fairytale keeper?

D: If possible… I would prefer you choose a topic that pertains to yourself.

Kate: Alright, then…

K: Out of the foods on this table, which one is my most favorite?

Darius: Hehe, that’s quite a charming topic? Then let’s start.

Nica: Sounds good to me, though I’d like to propose another twist.

N: The first person to guess the correct answer will be able to ask the Spatzi out on a date. Well, how about it?

Ring: A date…!? [surprised]

Darius: You do make a good point. A competition does call for a prize of sorts… well, miss fairytale keeper? Are you fine with this?

Kate: U-um, I think a date may be a bit——

When I tried to speak up, though, the three of them looked at me, causing my breath to catch in my throat.

Ring was looking at me with a guarded look, as though he were a guard dog who could tear my neck apart with a single order.

Nica was looking at me with a scrutinizing look, as though he was thinking about how to play with a toy.

And Darius was wearing an amiable smile, but his eyes alone were sharp, like that of a predator aiming for its prey——

With the three of them looking at me in their own way, I couldn’t bring myself to disagree, feeling myself surrounded by a heavy air.

Darius: ‘I think a date may be a bit’ what was that now?

Kate: …Nope, never mind. That works for me.

Overwhelmed by the pressure, I could only nod, and Darius returned the gesture with an angelic smile.

Like a signal, the tense atmosphere became more lax.

Darius: Thank you. Then, let the game start.

With that, the tea party proceeded such that Darius, Nika, and Ring asked me questions.

While the discussion occasionally went off track, this peaceful time continued to pass by——

Ring: I got it!

The one who had his answer ready first was Ring.

Darius: A friendly reminder that you only have one chance. If you miss the mark, that will be the end… are you sure you would like to answer?

Ring: Don’t worry, I’m sure of this.

R: The answer is——that fruit before your eyes!

Kate: …Miss.

Ring: Wh…!? I-I see… so it was wrong…

Ring looked a bit despondent at my answer, and though he looked like a guard dog before, in an instant, he looked more like an abandoned puppy,

and I had to desperately fight the urge to say ‘actually, it’s a hit.’

Nica: …Hey, Ring. Mind if I say how you got to your answer?

Ring: ‘How I got to my answer’?

Nica: When you were about to grab that fruit, the Spatzi said ‘go ahead’ to you with a smile and put it on your plate,

N: and so you held a positive association with that fruit, leading you to your answer?

Ring: N-now that you mention it… that might’ve been the case… it was completely unconscious…

Darius: Ahaha, you’re so adorably honest, Ring.

Nica: Well then, it’s about time I guess too. The correct answer is… this chocolate.

N: It’s a bit on the mini side, and it looks cute too, and not to mention the packaging is also intricate. It practically oozes the traits a girl would like.

Kate: Miss.

Nica: Oops, too bad.

As opposed to Ring, who seemed down upon getting his guess wrong, Nika didn’t show any signs of caring, even if he did.

It was as though he knew from the beginning his answer was wrong.

Darius: I would prefer you make a serious guess, or this game will really end up in a bore.

Nica: But I thought long and hard about what girls would like and picked based on that?

N: Besides, this is where a subordinate hands the torch to the master.

Nika gave a smug wink, and Darius shrugged his shoulders in response.

Darius: It seems I bear a great responsibility now. If I’m unable to answer correctly, I’m afraid the little miss fairytale keeper——

D: And Crown as well would be disappointed in me.

Kate: Don’t worry, I won’t be disappointed even if you don’t answer correctly. It’s just a game, after all.

Darius: Hmm, so you believe I won’t get the answer right, is that it?

Kate: That…

(If I’m being completely honest, yes, I did think that.)

(Because the answer to this question is… a bit special.)

Darius: Hehe, seeing you have such low expectations of me makes me want to try my utmost hardest.

D: Alright, I have my answer.

D: I see you were trying not to eat this chocolate cake, right?

D: Because you like it, you saved it for last, I take it. So, my answer is that chocolate cake.

I was about to reply with an immediate ‘miss,’ when he opened his mouth before me.

Darius: …is what a normal person would say, but that would be incorrect.

Kate: Eh…

Darius: The answer to your question is——-

D: ‘Everything here on the table.’

Kate: …That’s a hit.

Ring: A-all of it…!? Is that answer even possible?

Nica: Well, we never established that the said thing had to just be a single thing, so yeah, it’s fully possible.

N: But even so, way to bend the rules there, Spatzi. I didn’t think you had it in you.

N: …You really are an interesting one, aren’t you.

Darius: I did think it was a strange answer, but considering the little miss fairytale keeper’s character, it wasn’t too difficult.

D: Perhaps you thought something like, ‘If I’m preparing something for guests, I would choose the things I believe are the most delicious’… am I right?

Kate: It is as you say…

While consulting with Victor, I chose all of the pastries here.

So, that’s why if I were to choose my most favorite among these, the answer would naturally be ‘everything.’

Kate: It was a bit of an underhanded answer, so I didn’t think you would get it.

Darius: Hehe, but I did. Oh, but, I don’t think it’s underhanded.

D: After all, I take it you thought up of such an answer so that you didn’t have to assign winners and losers, yes?

Kate: Yes, there was also that. Since it was such a fun tea party, I didn’t want to label anyone as winners and losers…

Darius: To see you try to put us on an equal footing without assigning a winner…

D: You truly are sweet to the point it’s cloying… and kind as well.

Ring: B-by the way… will Darius ask her out? O-on a date, that is…!

Darius: Ahh, that nearly slipped my mind. Well, miss fairytale keeper, will you go out on a date with me next time?

Kate: …I will.

I didn’t have much reason to turn him down, and now that I got to talk with them like this, I started to become more interested in the members of Vogel.

(…And going out together with them seems pretty fun too.)

Nica: Okay, then, when you’re done with your date with Dari, let me know, okay? We can plan a date of our own then.

Kate: Eh—

Nica: The prize for the game was the right to ask you out on a date, but there’s no need to hinge something like that on a game, right?

N: Besides, if the answer to the question is ‘everything on the table,’ that would technically make my answer right, too, yeah?

Kate: I… guess so…?

Nica: And you caught my interest too anyway…

N: …Ah, that’s right. Since we’re talking about this, why don’t you invite the Spatzi on a date too, Ring?

Ring: O-on a date…!? I… I’ll pass.

R: …But when you go on your date with Nica and Darius, I’ll tag along behind you guys.

Nica: Wait, why though?

Ring: If she’s around, you’ll let your guards down and lose sight of your surroundings, right?

R: So I’ll cover those bases during your date.

Nica: Ehh…

Darius: Hehe, thank you, Ring.

D: …Hey, miss fairytale keeper. I must say that half a day isn’t nearly enough.

D: Why don’t we take our sweet time chatting on our date, the two of us?

A smile played on Darius’ lips, and I couldn’t look away from his honey-colored eyes.

Just then, I remembered Victor’s words from before I went out.

—— Flashback ——

Victor: Ahh, that’s right, Kate. There’s one thing I should say.

V: If you wish to return to your normal everyday life after this month passes… you mustn’t let your heart get stolen by them.

—— End flashback ——

(It’ll be alright… I think I was able to enjoy this time today when I tried talking to them.)

(This feeling won’t blossom into love. Surely…)

Fin.

will vs darius jude vs nica alfons vs ring

NOTES:

[0] according to our handy google translate, the title of this story, Liebe geht durch den Magen, translates to “love goes through the stomach.” I assume this may reference or be the equivalent to a similar English saying, “the way to one’s heart is through their stomach.”

[1] “virgin” in German nhdkshfds

[2] and here we have a quote from Wikipedia: Baumkuchen is a kind of spit cake from German cuisine. It is also a popular dessert in Japan. The characteristic rings that appear in its slices resemble tree rings, and give the cake its German name, Baumkuchen, which literally translates to “tree cake” or “log cake”.

[3] originally, I had Rotkehlchen, which is like the literal translation for “robin” as far as I know. Spatzi means “sparrow,” but can be used as a term of endearment in the same way the Crown members call Kate “robin” out of endearment. In his collection story event, he mentions that the word he used is German for robin, but it could be localized to something like “it is a German-equivalent term of endearment for robin.” Thanks to @.citrusmornings for providing this link!

END NOTES: did you enjoy this story? because i know i did, haha. i really enjoy all the vogel characters so far; they all have interesting personalities, and they bounce off each other in a fun way as well.

honestly, i’m still trying to sort of get an idea of how i want to sort of translate and write these characters. overall, though, i tried to give darius a more innocent air, with some hints of his nobility, while also having a strong sort of presence. and i tried to capture nica’s sort of casual and flippant (but also clever and sharp) air, which contrasts with how ring gets shy and flustered pretty easily.

i’d love to hear your thoughts!

full masterlist 🕊️

[vamossainz55]

let's just drive (charles leclerc x reader)

inspired by a request from an anon: would you like to write one for Charles where he can't drive his normal car (for whatever reason), so he asks the reader for help, but she's kind of nervous and thinks there will be some judging? a/n: i took the liberty of making her scared she'll crash, i hope that's okay. i just feel like it fit the prompt better (+ there's something that I don't like about this but idky- so my sincere apologies if you also feel it)

“Here you go,” Charles says, casually dropping the keys in your hand before giving your cheek a kiss. You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice the way all your blood has drained out of your face, or if he’s choosing to ignore it because he doesn’t mention it. Instead he circles around the car to go into the passenger seat.

He fumbles a bit with the door before closing it, having to awkwardly reach over with his left arm to pull the seat belt from the right. He struggles over the cast that’s wrapped around his arm, and for a second you feel sorry for him, but all of this goes away the moment he looks over at you expectantly. 

“Come on,” He says. You notice the smile he attempts to fight back, the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and looks away. So he did notice I look nervous, you think to yourself. Dickhead. 

Passenger princess. That is what all your friends had decided to call you once you had started dating your boyfriend. It had been an off-handed joke at first, one that was pegged because of your boyfriend’s career, but here you were almost two years into your relationship and the nickname had stuck.

Over the last two years you found yourself behind the wheel less and less, whilst finding more and more comfort in riding shotgun. It’s not that you hated driving, far from that, but he just loved it, offering to take you wherever you needed to go. 

That is exactly why the sight of his 488 Pista is making you feel sick, extremely sick. 

Regardless of your nerves, you somehow find yourself in the driver’s seat, pulling the seat forward to adjust for your own height. Somehow the car feels even scarier from the inside and you wonder whether calling an uber could be a choice.

“Did you really have to break your arm this week?” You ask as you turn the key. Of course you’re joking, well kind of. You just didn’t understand why you were the one who had to drive. The car roars as soon as the engine is on, and you try not to think how much power it actually has. You can feel your boyfriend’s eyes on you, amused by your whole ordeal. 

Your hands are clammy as you hold the steering wheel, looking into the wing mirror. You’re about to change gears, eyes shifting back to the rearview mirror. Reverse, I can do it, you think. There’s a small second of silence right when you’re about to step on the clutch and you can practically feel Charles’ eyes burning into you. 

The car reverses, only for a moment before it rocks back forward. You instantly wince, raising your shoulders to your face to wait for the impact that never comes. You hear a snicker from next to you and you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. 

“You cannot be staring at me like that!” You say, cheeks flushed red, looking at him. Charles only continues to look at you, a smile playing on his lips as he shakes his head. He reaches over to hold your arm, thumb slowly rubbing at your skin. The touch sends a shiver down your spine. 

“You’re acting like you don’t drive when I’m off racing.” Charles laughs in between his words, letting out a soft wheeze. 

“Yeah- I drive my car. Not a ferrari.” You murmur, trying your best to let the heat leave your cheeks.

“You’re not going to crash it you know?” 

“But what if I do?” Your question comes out high pitched and whiny, a stark contrast to how relaxed and laid back Charles seemed. He sucks a sharp breath between his teeth before letting it out with a shake of his head and a smile on his lips. 

“First off all- you won’t,” He says as he reaches to turn off the car before reaching for your hand. “And second of all, so what if you do?” Charles asks, snorting at the shocked expression you give him. 

“I’m sorry- are we forgetting how much your car costs?” You try to pull your hand away, wanting to prove your point about how stressed you actually are. He doesn’t let you though, only giving your clammy hand a squeeze.

“Actually, I don’t know how much it costs,” Charles says matter-of-factly. You can only groan, because of course Charles Leclerc does not know how much his Ferrari costs. 

“Over two hundred thousand euros Charles.” His brow raises slightly, showing slight surprise and you’re a bit relieved by it, hoping that it would be enough for the idea of you driving to stray away. It doesn’t seem to work in your favor though. 

“Wait- did you google how much my car costs before this?” 

“How could I not?” Charles is back to laughing again, shaking his head in amusement. =

“Amour, it is going to be okay,” Charles promises. “I trust you.” His words are enough to get your shoulders to relax a bit, and for you to take a deep breath. 

“But you love your car so much- what if anything happens?” You watch the way he brings your hand to his face, leaning down to pepper kisses into your knuckles. It helps in relaxing you, allowing you to let out a soft breath. 

“Come on now, I love my car, but- I love you more.” He smiles at you as he gently puts your hand back down, but you don’t give in, only continuing to look at him with your lips pulled down into a pout. “If you crash it- which I am not saying you will, I won’t be mad. I’m the one that asked you to drive it,” Your silence fills the car and he squeezes your hand again to catch your attention. “Hm?” 

“Are you sure?” You ask and Charles only laughs, rolling his eyes before pecking your lips. 

“I,” he says before giving you another kiss, “promise that,” and another, “I love you” and another, “more than my stupid car” he finishes, sealing the promise with one last kiss. He takes his time with this one, enjoying the way your lips had curved up into a small smile. Bingo.

“Now will you drive?” He claims victory when you nod in response, pulling away to lean back onto his seat. There’s a moment of silence as your fingers shadow to start the car, but another thought enters your mind. 

“Can I have one more kiss?” He knows you’re stalling, and at this point you’ll both be more than twenty minutes late, but he smiles anyways. 

“Of course,” He answers, coming closer again. Who’s to blame him though, he did love you most.  

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

crepes, english muffin with a side of sparkling water, cider, dark roast served by lewis hamilton please? wife reader trying to help lewis to get off one night where he cant sleep 🥺

watch you sleep

order up!

hi lovely thanks for the request, i have been dying to write this and i took the liberty of making your order is extra sweet, i hope that's okay <3 your requested prompts will be bolded

pairing; lewis hamilton x female wife reader

blurb; your husband wakes you late at night after being gone for months during the race season during which he realized that he can't sleep without you or your help aka needy sub lewis missed his beautiful wife.

warnings; oral fem!receiving, switch!reader cockwarming, body worship, sub!lewis, gentle sex, thigh kisses, belly bulge, riding and somnophilia kink [let me know if i missed anything]

crepes; "go back to sleep, you don't have to be awake for this sweetcheeks" english muffin; "i could die between these legs" sparkling water; gentle sex cider; body worship dark roast; sub character aka lewis and i added coffee; somnophilia kink which this story relates to and victoria sponge; "you wanna hold my hand" for some extra tooth rotting sweetness

currently playing; watch you sleep by girl in red "we're safe here under the sheets, i don't ever wanna leave, i'll watch you sleep and listen to you breathe, i don't ever wanna leave, i'll watch you sleep"

"shit" lewis cursed as he ended up knocking over a lamp before stilling, listening but when he heard nothing he sighed in relief glad to have not woken you up, he trudged into your shared home late in the evening feet heavy and body aching, all he wished for in this moment was to curl up in your arms were he belonged.

he'd been gone for months due to the race season and while you visited when you could, he still couldn't help but miss you every day, his heart aching to be home with you, during their time spent together these past months, george hated how much lewis talked about you mainly because he would never shut up no matter how hard he begged. kicking off his boots as to not risk making any more noise, lewis found himself shuffling towards your bedroom, aching to hold you close but what he found left him speechless as he leaned against the door frame merely watching you sleep peacefully, hair splayed out across the pillows in a way that reminded him of a halo, cheeks rosy from the warm air that blew in from the open window and your nightgown... oh that damn nightgown always drove him completely mad, making him feel like a man starved whenever he saw your body adorned in the light blue fabric. the soft sighs that left your parted lips made his mouth curl up in a smile, you never ceased to make him breathless. you always looked angelic no matter what you did, his own personal angel. he stood there just admiring the beauty that was his wife for the longest time and as you shifted, your leg moved causing your nightgown to rise and reveal even more skin, skin that he was dying to taste.. any air he had breathed in left his lungs and his thoughts died down, the only thing on his mind was you as he sat next your sleeping form, mattress dipping under his weight as his fingers grazed up the skin of your thigh, stopping just below the hem of your nightgown, he smiled at the thought that came to his mind then. moving to lay on his stomach between your legs, his hands running up your thighs taking your nightgown with them until they found a home on your hips where he gently gripped in order to keep himself grounded and not loose his mind at his discovery of you going to bed commando. and while he was glad that there was one less layer between him and you to deal with, he also felt disappointed, he loved the way your lace panties hugged your curves and the way you squeaked when he snapped the band against the skin of your firm ass but most of all he loved tracing the hemline of them until you were begging him to do something, anything. he nuzzled against the skin of your thigh taking in the way you smelled; like strawberries and vanilla, he loved that smell so much that he'd even tried to take your perfume with him when he left so that he could spray it on the pillows in every hotel he stayed at so when he lay awake at night missing you, you seemed just a little bit closer than you actually were. he nuzzled more against your skin beginning to place sweet pecks to your thighs moving up, up, up until he found himself exactly where he wanted to be, his face level with your center and he couldn't stop himself from placing the softest of kisses there too, groaning at the very light taste of you on his lips "i could die between these legs" he mused to himself, pushing your legs further apart eager to taste you.

it could have been the warm breeze that had snuck through the curtains or the chirping crickets outside that woke you, you weren't completely sure as your arms stretched above your head, back arching off the mattress but then you felt it, the soft tickle against your thigh and the deep groan against your core as he licked through your folds, the taste of you sending his brain into overdrive "shit" you cursed, hands darting down to thread through his twisted braids and press against his scalp "lewis.." you mumbled, voice still hoarse from having just woken "go back to sleep, you don't need to be awake for this sweetcheeks" he murmured, his grip upon your hips tightening and the squeak that left you as he tugged you closer so that his tongue could slip inside had him chuckling against your core, sending sparks shooting up your spine "just wanted a taste, missed this sweet little pussy so much" his words warmed you, made you feel even more loved than you already knew you where and while his words couldn't be seen that way to most people, it was the way he said it that would have given his love for you away, the love he held for his angel of a wife. he hummed as your juices met his tongue the sweetness of you overwhelming, he didn't want to leave but when you pulled at his arm, his body listened, climbing over you hands pressed against the mattress either side of your head, he watched as you nibbled on your bottom lip the sight making him needier than he already was, oh how he wanted to bite that lip for himself but when your hands cupped his cheeks, lewis couldn't help but melt letting you pull him close to kiss him.

oh how he had missed this, the press of your lips against his own, the hum you made as his tongue slipped past your parted lips letting you taste yourself, the only sounds that could be heard within the four walls of your bedroom were the rustling of bed sheets and the sounds of your sloppy kiss "missed you so much sweet girl, can't sleep without you" he informed you in between the consistent kisses you continued to press against his lips, loving the taste of him on your tongue, when you pulled away the sultry look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. rolling onto his back he brought you with him, hips slotted snugly against his own, oh how he loved this sight, his gorgeous wife straddling his lap with her nightgown pushed up around her hips and his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs, bound to leave fingertip bruises to be discovered at a later date. "you gonna let me help sweet boy, let me help you dream" you soothed him, hands pushing his shirt up his body eager to get it off and so when he pulled it over his and tossed it into the corner to be forgotten you couldn't help yourself as you leaned down to kiss across his chest "your so perfect, my sweet boy always is" you mused against his flushed skin as he moaned, unable to hold it in any longer.

the press of your lips against his skin left him feeling euphoric like he was on cloud nine "missed you so such" he hummed, fingers threading through your hair as you kissed his chest paying special attention to his tummy, you loved the feeling of the soft skin against your lips just like he did, lewis loved laying with his head snuggled against your tummy placing kisses to the soft skin every now and then just imagining what it would be like when you were pregnant.

how he'd always wanted to see you pregnant with his child, stomach round and breasts heavy with milk, oh how he would feed from you himself, he thought but was soon distracted from that delicious thought when you kissed across his waistline causing him to gasp, head slamming back against the soft pillows of your shared bed and his sudden movement caused lewis to tug at your hair a little too hard which made you wince "careful baby, you gotta be gentle with me" you giggled, god your laugh never failed to set his heart alight "i'm sorry love" he soothed, rubbing his fingers against your scalp to soothe the ache "i didn't mean to hurt you" he smiled as you hummed from the feeling of his little massage "i know my sweet, i know" you replied, moving back up his body, enjoying his facial expressions when you dipped your hand into his sweatpants to gently stroke his already painfully hard cock.

lewis couldn't believe his luck, how lucky he was to have you and how lucky you were have him "lift your hips for me sweet boy" you asked, tugging his sweatpants off his hips and down his legs, leaving him to kick them off as you once again straddled his hips feeling the tip of his cock poke against your entrance as you kneeled above him slightly and as you sank down on his cock, your pussy clenching around him, lewis pulled you down against his body, chest pressed against his with one hand gripping your hip, the other still tangled in your hair, as you rocked your hips you couldn't help but kiss the beautiful man below you, thumbs running over his cheeks as his cock dragged along your inner walls, it was a feeling you had missed, feeling him so deeply. "so fucking deep lew" you moaned.

your forehead pressed to lewis's as you panted against eachothers mouths, your hips moving faster and faster never wanting to stop. his breath was hot against your face when he jerked his hips up trying to met your thrusts only to have you push them down when you sat back up "tsk tsk tsk, your not the one in charge tonight baby boy" you scolded playfully, balancing yourself by pressing your hands against the damp skin of his chest, the only sounds heard now were the sounds of your hips slamming down against his and the hot pants and moans leaving both of your lips, a euphoric feeling zapped up your spine when lewis pushed your nightgown further up so he could press his hand against the bulge that appeared in your tummy when you rode him like this, lewis loved the sight; in fact it was one of his favorite things in the world and the feeling of him so deep inside of your pussy was one that you'd never forget.

your hum turned into a low moan as you watched him reach for you with grabby hands, eyes begging "you wanna hold my hand" and so your fingers tangled together with his own, holding his hands tight as you bounced up and down on his cock, you knew he was close when his hips starting rutting against your own.

lewis knew he was done for and so he couldn't help himself as he pulled you back down, lips locking with yours in a messy kiss, spit coating both of your faces in the process and then he groaned so deeply you almost came from the sound alone, his arm around your waist forcing your hips down and against his own as his hot cum painted your insides white, rope after rope being released, your pussy clenched around him as your body shook, a tell tale sign of you reaching your own high, juices mixing with his own.

you collapsed against lewis, listening to his erratic heartbeat as his chest rose and fell all while he held you tightly against him so that he could place kisses upon your damp forehead "i fucking love you so much" lewis murmured while his long fingers tangled in your hair, oh how you loved those fingers and the things he could do to you with them.

you kissed at his chest just above his heart "welcome home husband" you giggled which almost sent him into a frenzy once more "don't start wife" he chuckled darkly holding you closer, never wanting to let go again.

it was in this moment that the both of you knew this, right here was your forever. you weren't going to let anyone or anything change that you promised yourself, watching him doze off, cock still buried deep in your cunt growing softer with each passing minute but you couldn't care so long as your sweet boy was content and at peace, this was the perfect forever.

[xythlia]

⎙ 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐓 !

› mammon x f!reader

› request for my mootie wif the best ideas <3 @aestrayla I hope u don't mind I took some creative liberties but u know something like that would make him SNAP ajdhsks

warnings : squirting, talking about making reader a mommy (not sorry), creampie, mating press, semi rough sex, aggressive mammon, possessiveness, hickies/biting, dacriphilia, breeding

"Uh, hey- wait what is that?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head, breath coming in short bursts in between drawn out moans of his name.

The tinny voice coming from somewhere by your head barely registers in your brain, your field of vision dominated by Mammon as he laid over you between your legs.

"I dunno if you're busy or something but I was calling to talk..."

The way Mammons teeth flash as his lips pull back in a possessive snarl makes something ignite deep inside your tummy. One hand finds your face, gripping your jaw while he forces you to look in his eyes, full of something primal that makes your heart beat erratically, not get distracted by your phone.

You hadn't seen it, but he definitely did catch the way your ex's name flashed across the screen right as he'd slid inside you, pushed your legs up to make sure you felt every inch of his cock as it pushed inside your soaked cunt. You'd been messing around in his bed after a movie marathon, your phone had been the one thing not tossed onto the floor as you both got caught up in each other.

Seeing it turned his mind into a flood of red. How dare some scum sucking human guy call you up? Doesn't he know you belong to him? And what the hell were you doing keeping an ex saved in your phone? Don't you know who you belong to? Without thinking he'd slid his finger to answer the call.

Mammons lips brush against yours, shushing your cries and his hips stop moving, keeping his throbbing cock inside you as you squirm.

"Answer him, baby." A whisper of a growl.

Your eyes gape, full of confusion as he lets go of your jaw, pulling away ever so slightly.

He can see the panic dancing across your previously pleasure drunk face.

"Yeah, sorry I'm- I'm really busy-" you struggle through the words.

"Okay," he pauses briefly. "I mean we can talk more later but I was thinking about you, us, you know? I miss you. I was wondering if you'd wanna give it another try?"

The question sits like a loaded gun in the room.

Your eyes are wild, hands scrabbling above your head fumbling for your phone but Mammon beats you to it. Snatching it up as you whine.

Mammon pulls nearly all the way out of you, feeling the way you clench around him in a desperate attempt to get him to stay. The swollen tip of his cock is all that stays nestled inside you. Gently he sets back on his heels, his other hand finding your pussy as he feigns absentmindedness while slowly circling your clit.

In a tone that makes you shiver and squeeze your eyes shut he starts speaking.

"Don't think so, man. She's too busy about to become a mom."

At that, coupled with a hard press of his index on your aching clit, a particularly hoarse groan is pulled from deep inside your chest.

"What the fuck, hey who is this dickhead?" Your ex's voice takes on a hard edge but it doesn't even register to you, not with your head pressed back against the pillows and your hips rolling upwards to chase Mammons touch.

"Ya heard me, but why don't I let her tell you herself?" He mocks, setting the phone right above your head as his hands dig into your hips in a bruising grip before he slams his hips back against you. The force of it makes you gasp and almost choke on your own spit.

But he can't stop himself now, forearms planting themselves firmly on either side of your face, lips devouring yours. It's sloppy, almost animalistic the way he pounds you into the mattress.

Your head is spinning and you've all but forgotten that there's someone else listening to you right now. There's no space in your mind for that, not when Mammons pace is so brutal and the only thing you can do is claw at his back in a weak effort to anchor yourself.

"Fuck," he pants, "Ya wanna be a mommy?" A smirk paints his face as he nuzzles his nose against the side of your neck, licking and sucking against the thin skin like his life depended on it.

You whine, burying your fingers in his snowy hair. The question makes your mind short out, like an electrical wire snapping and spraying sparks in its wake. You open your mouth but all that comes out is an incoherent mess, cries of his name as you frantically reach down and grip the backs of your thighs to pull them up, your moans reaching a fever pitch as you feel his cock prod even deeper.

Letting go of your neck with a soft pop he finds your lips again, biting on your bottom lip and drinking down your cries like they're the finest wine in any realm.

After a hard nip to the swollen flesh he breaths out against your mouth, "Wanna hear you say it."

Tears slip down the sides of your face, you feel the odd wetness of them pooling against your ears as you sob eagerly. "I wanna be a mommy- please-!"

Your voice gets cut off in a squeal as he takes control of your legs, pushing them so far against your chest it makes you wheeze. He grunts against the feeling of your pussy clamping down on him, your slick walls throbbing and just begging to milk him. With your mouth dropped open in a silent wail Mammon feels something warm spray against his abdomen.

But still his hips keep thrusting against you, balls twitching every time they slap against your ass. He can feel the way he's clenching his jaw so hard his teeth might break. Seeing your slack jawed tear stained face and feeling the way you cling on to his shoulders so pathetically finally slows him down.

With a few long, deep thrusts he stills inside you, relishing in the way your pussy is practically sucking in the warm thick cum spurting inside you. It's confirmation, in his mind, that now he's gotta commit to this.

In a fleeting second of awareness his eyes slide from your cockdrunk face to your phone. The screen is dark.

With a grin that oozes smug satisfaction he captures your lips again in a slow, burning kiss, tongue sliding against yours languidly.

Dragging his spit covered lips to kiss along your jaw his hips gingerly start moving again, prompting a low whine from you as your eyes flutter open.

His hands reach under you, cupping your ass and holding you open for him. "Gotta make sure it takes, right?"

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 23

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; a tad bit of angst; smidge of illness; all the pregnancy woes in the world; some suggestive dialogue A/N: There's some serious fluff in this. I tried so hard to keep Daryl in character while having him offer all he could to a person doing something precious for him. I hope I succeeded. The explanation of midnight blue is a little bit of self indulgence. It's my own favorite color and the reason why. I know I skipped the nursing home scene but I took the liberty of adding into the timeline somewhere as a mention.

The events of the day before had ended in the most amusing way, with you nearly inviting Carol in before getting dressed.

“She knows what tits and a vagina look like, Daryl.”

“She don’t know what my dick looks like, Y/N!”

“Touche, sir.”

All ended well and Carol saw no genitalia that fine day.

You had officially worn one another out. After the Tylenol and Carol’s snickers and knowing smiles, you and Daryl fell onto the pillows and slept until the next morning. The fever remained, albeit burning less and less hot each time the old man would look him over. His lungs were sounding better. Hershel removed the IV when the archer proved he could keep up with hydrating and promised to take it easy. Of course, he would. He had you as his warden. 

The next evening, after a bowl of hearty stew with the venison you had brought back,—two bowls for Daryl—you laid in bed. He wasn’t complaining, for once, and actually seemed to be close to falling asleep. It had been a relief to watch him eat well, even if he did try to share the second bowl. You were feeling a little nauseated, sharing that knowledge honestly when you turned down his offering. Your condition had definitely improved, the severity of the occurrences much less concerning. Things were actually okay. 

“Daryl?” You licked your suddenly dry lips but continued drawing patterns on his bare chest from your spot against his side with his arm wrapped around you. He hummed, his usual reply, eyes remaining closed while his thumb swept back and forth over your ribs. When you didn’t answer right away, he pulled you a little closer. It was unclear if it was intentional or not.

“What?” He cleared his throat, his voice still gravelly. 

“Can we—I’d like to know more about you.” Your timid request must have snagged his attention because he was shifting your bodies to lie face to face, one hand below his cheek and the other rubbing small circles just over where the baby had finally stopped tap dancing. He was giving you that look, the squinted eyes that scrutinized someone for any indication of dishonesty or hidden agenda. He should know you better than that by now, but you remained quiet.

“Whaddaya wanna know?” He finally queried, his hand going still but remaining where it was.

“Anything. Everything.” You shrugged your available shoulder. “If we’re gonna do this—be an us—then we need to know one another, don’t you think?” He started tapping a finger against your abdomen.

“S’your favorite color?”

You huffed a laugh through your nose, scrunching it with a smile. “Midnight blue. What’s yours?” He pulled a face, curiosity shining through.

“Why midnight?” He asked with a sniff, shuffling around a bit on the pillow.

“Because even though I know it isn’t, I like to think that’s the color of the night sky. Not black, but dark blue and full stars. Black is nothing, it’s lonely, but to think of it as blue. It’s a little more comforting.” The archer gave you a thoughtful look, the corner of his mouth ticking upward so minutely that anyone else would have missed it. Not you. “Now, what’s yours?”

He mimicked your earlier shrug. “Dunno. Don’t really got one, I guess.” Your silence beckoned him to explain. After moving his hand from below his cheek to chew on the side of his thumb, he eventually elaborated. “Grew up learnin’ to ‘preciate all’a ‘em. House was—it was always dark, ‘specially after mama died. When my old man—I spent a lot’a time outside. Noticed things. Blue sky’d turn a bit purple before it’d snow, even if it was just a lil’. Grass—it’d be green but have those brown pieces where I’d walk all’a the time. Creek looked muddy unless ya stood in it. Then ya’d see the bottom an’ how the water’d catch the light. Sometimes it’d be blue, sometimes kinda green. Just depended on the day.” His gaze had dropped away from you at some point, focused on the miniscule area of bed sheets between your bodies.

You were glad for it because your eyes had started to fill and shine. You were granted the opportunity to blink back the tears before he looked up. Daryl was so much more than anyone had given him credit for, than anyone had been willing to learn. Carol had told you a story about an exchange with Andrea, when she had taken a jab at what she thought was his limited vocabulary.

“Get a dictionary. Look it up. Observant.”

“D’ya like dogs or cats?” He asked so suddenly that you nearly flinched, realizing that you had just been staring at some point past his head for an undetermined amount of time. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.

“I like both, but I’m a dog person.” You frowned. Having a dog would probably be something your child would never get to experience. “You?”

“Dogs. Cats ain’t trustworthy.” It was such an amusing thing to say with such a straight face. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wait, I need to hear this.” You caught him staring at your lips, maybe watching you laugh or maybe he wanted to kiss you. Both? You pretended not to notice. 

“Dogs’re smart but cats’re calculated. Make ya think they’re all innocent when they ain’t. Always up to somethin’.”

“What I’m hearing is that you’re afraid of cats.” You smirked, absently reaching to run your fingers through his hair. Daryl made a disgruntled sound and shook his head to stave off your attempts.

“Ain’t afraid’a ‘em. Just don’t trust ‘em.”

“Right.” You nodded, face falling into feigned seriousness before it became real, your next question burning inside your chest, just below the fear you’d need to surpass to ask. He was likely to shut down the session, maybe even close off completely. You could always hope he’d begun to trust you enough to open up, even if only a little, but the prospect suddenly seemed so far away. “Daryl.”

“Ask.” He was looking right into your eyes with a hint of determination you’d seen before when the circumstances were different, dire even. Was that how he saw this? A dire situation that could result in you being gone in some way?

“Who—what happened?” You let a single fingertip press gently against the deepest scar on his chest, your eyes lingering on it for but a moment before you contradicted his intensity with tenderness. Not pity, but a gentle curiosity. A request to allow you to understand.

“My dad—he was never a good man.” He swallowed hard. “Got worse after mama died. She drank. Fell asleep with a smoke, burned up in our house.” His fingers were plucking at the small space between you, a fine tremor in his hand. He pulled it out of your reach when you reached for it. “Didn’t know what to do with us, I guess. Me an’ Merle—my brother.” The brother that Rick had left behind in Atlanta, the brother who was likely dead. Yet another relative your baby would never know. “Merle tried to—he’d take the beatin’ when he could, did his best. Booked it outta there when he couldn't take it no more. Joined the army.” His eyes were wet, but he sniffed and cleared his throat. “Wasn't nothin’ standin’ between me an’ the old man then—between me an’ the belt. The cigarettes.” He fell silent, clearly finished with talking about his parents.

“Tell me about Merle?” You ventured, shot down with a shake of his head against the pillow.

“Ain’t your turn.” He sniffed again. “Your mama—tell me ‘bout your mama.” It wasn’t exactly a question, more of a soft demand; an it’s only fair. You didn’t mind. You’d accepted her abandonment long ago. You had been content with the amazing father with whom you were gifted.

“She booked it. We didn’t have a lot of money, and she never really wanted me in the first place. Tucked tail and ran the first chance she got.” You shrugged, unbothered beyond the twinge of guilt you felt for being so okay with the hand you had been dealt while Daryl struggled to even think about his past. “I didn’t even miss her. I mean, it sucked at first. I always felt bad, watching daddy struggle. So, I learned to help and that was that.”

He was so obviously jealous, yet another emotion that he didn't know how to process. You saw the anger flare before he doused it, returning to a solemn state of silence. He was awaiting your question, wherein you found a dilemma. Did you push through the conversation about his family? Or did you switch to something else, give him a break? 

“Thank you for trusting me.” When you reached for him then, he didn’t pull away. His mask cracked and a few pieces fell away, but he held the rest steady. “That’s enough for now, okay? If you have more questions, I’ll answer them. Gladly. But you’ve shared enough, okay?” When he studied you, you didn’t let him proceed with his usual scrutiny. “It’s fine, Daryl. We can talk more when—if—you ever want to again. You don’t need to tell me anything else.”

He accepted the out with a long exhale and a nod, his gaze falling away. You embraced the silence and its discomfort, just touching him while he was in a place to allow it. You stroked his cheek, the stubble thicker than usual with his confinement to the bed. You smoothed his hair, scratched gently over his scalp. Finally, you scooted closer and pulled him toward you to meet in the middle. Tangling your legs around his, you guided his head to rest under your chin. He let you without complaint or denial, a testament to how he had silently endured when he needed comforting.

The two of you laid there, his breaths evening out to the point where you thought he had fallen asleep. Then, breaking the silence, he cleared his throat. “Why me?” You pulled back just enough to angle your head and look at him.

“Why you what?”

“Why ya settlin’ with me? We can raise a kid together without you givin’ up a chance with someone better.” He took a deep breath, keeping his head down. “I won’t hold ya to it if ya change your mind later—if someone shows—”

“There’s no one better.” You nearly snapped at him, your tone harsher than you’d ever meant for it to be. He flinched and you instantly hated yourself for it. You’d seen someone’s quick movements earn that reaction before, but words hardly affected Daryl physically, not like that. “Daryl.” You silently pleaded with him to look at you, but were left disappointed. “There’s no one better.” You repeated, so softly that it was almost a whisper, your breath disturbing his hair. “I want to raise this baby with you. I want to be with you. I love you. That’s not gonna change.”

He simply hummed, the sound reverberating against your throat. You wanted to throttle him, but none of his self-deprecation was his fault. You hated people you didn’t even know for it. “Don’t deserve all this.” Your brow furrowed deeply at his words. “Feel like m’gettin’ somethin’ meant for someone else. Like m’takin’—” The words died on the tip of his tongue. What could you even say to that? You could tell him he deserved the world—the fucking universe—but he’d never believe it. You’d just have to show him. It would take time and patience that would likely be tested over and over, but he was worth it.

“You’ll see.” You settled back against him, let silence fall between you again. After a while, he actually did fall asleep, the tension you had noticed in him finally melting away into a restful state he so desperately needed in order to continue getting well. A kiss was pressed into his hair. You never fell asleep yourself, simply lying there with him. Your heart ached yet it was full. With your fingers traveling up and down his back in gentle motions you hoped were comforting even within his dreams, you told him again. “You’ll see.”

Daryl was coughing strenuously by the time you reached the truck, his hand pressed hard against his chest. The cold air, the rush of grabbing up all the bags, the running from the herd—it was taking its toll on his still healing body.

“Keys.” You demanded. “I’m driving.”  You could see it on his face that he was going to argue, but he doubled over in another fit of coughs and deep, wheezing gasps. Digging in his pocket through the ordeal, he tossed you the keyring. The bags you two were responsible for were tossed into the back next to the bike. It took the archer two attempts to pull himself onto the bench seat, which required the effort of both your bodies to move back in order to accommodate your 30 week bump. Just as your door closed, a discolored hand slapped against the window, startling you into a shout.

The van was already moving when you pressed the gas to peel out behind it, mowing down at least three walkers. Dark blood splattered onto the windshield, smearing but mostly washing away when you used the partially frozen fluid and wipers. Daryl’s forehead was against the dashboard as he fought to catch his breath in the chilled air. You were fumbling for the temperature controls when he smacked your hand away.

“Just—just drive. I got it.” He rasped, the warming air filling the cab a moment later. His back thudded against the seat, shaking it slightly, his head falling back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He was finally sucking in gulps of air into irritated, partially healed lungs. When you reached a point that was safe enough to pull off, you would make sure the group remembered his state of health and didn’t travel for too long before finding anything suitable and safe enough for a stay of at least a few days. “Quit your worryin’, woman. M’good.”

“Just don’t, Daryl.” You argued quietly, desperate to keep the peace between the pair of you that you’d managed to create. “Let me worry. If you don’t fight me on it, I’ll be less likely to do something stupid.” You glanced over, finding his head rolled toward you, his jaw set but he relented with a jerk of his head.

“Fine. Just have ‘em find whatever. S’long as it keeps your ass right here beside me.” 

You smiled and silently celebrated your victory, even as he noticed and grumbled beside you. When you placed your hand, palm up, on the seat between you, only a heartbeat passed before you felt him squeezing your fingers.

Roughly eight weeks left, though Hershel said you could safely deliver if you made it at least four more weeks. You were actually becoming slightly miserable. The nausea would come and go, though you actually vomited less and less. Your ankles were missing completely under the puffy skin. Your belly felt so heavy that even just standing was becoming a chore. Lori was sympathetic, constantly giving you advice. Not only you but Daryl as well. You had seen her whispering to him, watched the way he would go completely still, not looking at her but listening intently. Rick could give him all the advice in the world but Lori’s input was crucial. She knew exactly what you needed.

The archer argued with you less and less, though you could see the restraint it took for him to bite his tongue, sometimes literally. He let you hunt with him because you were restless. Lori had said it was because of the urge to start nesting, which you had found amusing, but Daryl already knew about it because of the damn books he continued to snatch up on runs. Why it frustrated you that he was willing to go that extra mile was beyond your comprehension. Maybe because he knew more about what was going on with your body than you did? You should have been grateful, but all you wanted to do was kick him in the shins.

“Can ya just—nevermind.” He grunted from behind you while the two of you tracked some turkeys. You knew they’d be in the trees for the cold weather so you kept your eyes upward, irritating the hunter when you would nearly trip or run into something. Still, he kept his cool, which was admirable for your hot-headed partner. Daryl didn’t like the term boyfriend, you’d discovered during a brief conversation where you’d found your tongue looser than normal and spilling out questions you’d otherwise never ask. The two of you had settled on being partners, though you didn’t feel it was enough to describe your relationship. He had simply shrugged.

You couldn’t hunt with a gun. He’d all but forbade it. Too loud, would draw walkers. So he found you a bow. Not a crossbow but a traditional one. It didn’t take much practice. You only needed to become familiar with the tension of the string, how far to pull for the trajectory and speed needed. Aiming came naturally.

“Shut up, Daryl. I’m fine.” You snapped, instantly muttering an apology. It was but wasn’t his fault you felt so crappy. It took two to make the baby whose little foot or hand or whatever was always pressing into your ribs. You were just as responsible and tried to remember that even when it was you and not him that felt like absolute shit most of the time. As if the world was hellbent on fucking with you, the toe of your boot found its way beneath an exposed root and you nearly faceplanted. If not for Daryl’s constant observance, you surely would have.

He snagged your bicep, dropping his crossbow to reach across your chest and grip your other shoulder. All you needed was a dislocated shoulder when you were already so beyond miserable. He made sure you stayed on your feet, nearly stumbling himself, but saying nothing when you found his irritated but concerned gaze. The weight of it instantly brought on the sniffling you knew was about to lead to a breakdown.

Over the course of only three weeks, the archer had memorized the signs and adapted, learning how to soothe you even at the expense of his own comfort. He immediately pulled you into his arms as close as he could with your ever-growing belly between you, shushing you and rubbing your back. 

“S’alright. I won’t letcha fall.”

Noble as his intentions were, that only seemed to stir up even more guilt. “I don’t know why I can’t just listen when you tell me I should stay behind! Why do you let me just do whatever I want even when you know it’s the wrong choice?!” You rubbed your wet face against his button up, leaving a dark spot and not for the first time.

“Cause you’re hard-headed an’ feelin’ like crap. Only make ya feel worse for me to argue with ya.”

And just like that, the switch flipped. “I’m not hard-headed, Daryl! I’m fucking capable and everyone wants to treat me like I’m gonna break!” You pushed him away roughly and stomped forward, sniffling harder than necessary. You heard a sigh from behind you, the sound of him picking up his crossbow and before following at a distance.

When you shot down the turkey, even beyond the pride you felt carrying it back, something told you that he saw it first but didn’t even raise his weapon.

Carol had heated some water for you so you could wipe down, feeling like your skin was crawling after being in the woods all day. It was a foreign feeling for the leaves and cool, fresh air to feel like it stuck to your flesh and needed to be scrubbed away. You were a mess. Your body hurt and you constantly needed to pee. You were irritable. You’d want Daryl to fuck you one minute and then shove him away the moment he touched the slick apex of your thighs. You were torturing the poor man who didn’t have a clue how to provide the type of comfort you needed when he couldn’t even process how to overcome his own lack of it growing up.

You didn’t hear him enter the room as you bowed over the small sink in the dusty bathroom, your skin still damp beneath your long sleeved shirt and flannel sleep pants. You had washed your hair to the best of your ability, the wet strands forming a curtain around your face that blocked your view of the door. You didn’t startle when you felt the heat of his body behind you. It was familiar at that point in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I’m so sorry, Daryl.” You whispered, the syllables of his name coming out as a soft whimper. His hands settled on your hips, fingers flexing nervously.

“S’okay.” He stepped closer and you fully expected to feel his erection press against your ass, but that wasn’t the case. There was only the firm safety of his body, your human security blanket. “Wanna—can I try somethin’?” His voice shook beside your ear but his hands remained steady, digits still squeezing and releasing. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, his exhale warm against your neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t his warm palms sliding beneath your belly and lifting with more gentleness than you were aware a human being could possess. The absence of the weight pulling down was an instant relief, your muscles turning to jello. You leaned back against him and he kept you upright, silently offering you comfort and succor that your body didn’t even know it needed.

“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes fluttering closed and head laying back against his shoulder. The tears came when his lips pressed against your temple, wordlessly expressing his gratitude for what you were enduring. “Thank you.” Your own appreciation trembled over your lips, whether toward the man at your back or a god you weren’t sure you believed in for putting him there.