#TWS under 1500

[flawdchaos]

Lips of an Angel

Lando Norris x Reader

based on lips of an angel by hinder (if you haven’t heard this song pls listen to it because it’s a banger and this is heavily based on it.)

tw: angst, kinda sorta cheating, reader and lando being dummies

a/n - hi friends, this is my first time writing for f1. i’ve written before on here and took a break to study on class work. i’ve fallen back into my f1 phase and dreamt this up on the way into work tonight. i hope you enjoy, feel free to give me feedback. thank you xx

word count - 1500 (ish)

Lando’s room illuminated from the soft glow of his phone on the bedside table, buzzing against the base of the lamp. He moved as delicately as he could, careful to not wake the girl sleeping on his chest, to see who could be calling so late. He rubbed his eyes and squinted reading the name across his screen, the name he chose to disguise Y/N’s contact.

JULIE - MARKETING.

He slid out from under the girl, tiptoeing to the hallway before whispering a hello through the phone.

“Lando?” the voice shook through the phone. “Lando, I’m sorry.” he could hear it now, the sniffles and uneven breaths - she was crying. He crept down the hallway a bit more in an attempt to gain distance from his bedroom and sleeping companion.

“Y/N, why are you crying? Is everything alright?” he whispered, being met with only sniffles. “I’m in the living room. I have to whisper. What’s wrong?” He was growing impatient in her silence, the worry growing each minute he was on the phone call.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this - this pretending. I want you for myself. Call me selfish,” she took a deep breath in “, but I deserve you - not her.”

She had never been this brash before but he couldn’t blame her. After months of secret conversations, shared glances, and hugs that lingered just a little too long - he had to agree with her.

What they shared wasn’t meant to happen in the first place. Lando and Y/N had been in the same friend groups for years, only knowing each other mutually. It stayed that way until one night when they found themselves alone at the bar, friends having left long ago. One too many drinks and the heavy hand of the bartender led them back to Lando’s flat in London. They agreed the next morning, for the sanctity of their ‘friendship’ it would never happen again - but, they were both lying to themselves and they knew it. One night turned into two and before they realized it, the rest of Lando’s winter break was shared mostly in the sheets of his bed. It was only when he was leaving back to Monaco that things came to a halt abruptly. No conversation or discussion of what the hell had just happened over the past few months, just radio silence on both ends. It was an unspoken ending between the two.

That was until a couple months later and during Lando’s first podium of the season that he found himself wishing she were there to celebrate with him. Drunkenly, he debated his options and finally decided to send her a text telling her just how much he missed her and the things they would do. His text sat unattended in her messages for the rest of the night because while Lando was thinking of her, she was doing everything she could to forget about him - and this included making the same trek home from the bar with a stranger. Come morning the only thing the pair was left with was regret.

Y/N was the first to reach back out again after his crash in Las Vegas. She couldn’t admit to her friends just how shaken it had her but she tossed and turned in the bed for over an hour before picking up her phone.

Glad you’re okay. Try to stay out of the wall next time, yeah?

Her name lighting up his phone had his heart beating almost as fast as the adrenaline of crashing did. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as his mind raced on what to say. It was late in the UK so his response would probably go unnoticed until the morning. Or - had she stayed up that late to watch him race? Or should he say crash.

“What’s got you stumped, mate?” Max’s voice broke him from his daze as he glanced over his shoulder. “Y/N, aye? Just admit it.”

Lando’s head shot up to meet Max’s stare. “Admit what?”

“That you’re fucking whipped. I’ve seen you stalking her instagram.”

Something about Max’s words ignited a feeling within him. For the first time in his “playboy” career - Lando Norris was scared of his feelings.

—

It wasn’t long after the Las Vegas Grand Prix that Y/N had noticed a shift in Lando. He was almost nonexistent on her social media - no likes, hearts or story views. She chalked it up to the busy life he lived but when she clicked through his ‘close friends’ instagram story, her heart fell to her stomach. Lando had his arms wrapped around another girl, lips pressed against her cheek in front of a mirror. All of her questions and doubts were confirmed with a simple click and despite him owing her anything, she felt betrayed. Y/N couldn’t deny it anymore - the time she had spent with Lando was a whirlwind and no matter how many nights she spent curled up in bed, their bodies pressed together, she was always left wanting more.

On the mornings she woke before him, which had been every morning except two, she had found herself tangled in his arms feeling safe and secure. The true depth of her feelings came to be when she slowly awoke one morning to Lando running his arms down hers and placing a soft kiss on her forehead, vowing to return shortly. He stuck true to his promise when he crept back into the bedroom, two cups of tea tucked safely in his hands. She realized then that a small snippet of a domestic life with Lando was all she ever wanted but when he spoke again, the reality of their situation came back into play.

“Max is coming over in an hour to set up some stuff for the new Youtube video. I don’t mean to rush you but I figured our secret was still between us.” She nodded and hummed before taking another sip of her tea.

“Sure thing. I’ll be gone as soon as we finish our tea.”

-

Y/N finally realized, after viewing Lando’s story, that she had to move on. Find somebody to distract her from the replays of her intimate moments shared with Lando - and so she did. The pair both settled into mediocre “relationships” to distract themselves from the constant longing they had for each other. Subtle posts made to stories in hopes to cause jealousy in each other were made almost weekly. Lando had been seeing a girl one of his mates had set him up with, and Y/N had met a guy at a bar in London on a girls night out. Neither of them were unhappy, per se, but nothing matched the energy that the pair had shared before. On nights after rough races and a few drinks, Lando would have dreams that the girl in his arms wasn’t who had been currently seeing but Y/N instead. One dream had sent him over the edge and he had called her that night to hear her voice.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. His longing was quickly turning into regret as he realized this was probably a mistake before her soft voice filled the phone, she was whispering.

“Lando?” his heart was racing at the mere sound of her voice.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to wake you.” he said, hand raising to his mouth as he started biting at his fingernails.

“It’s okay, are you alright?”. She was still whispering.

“Uhm,” he began, shuffling his feet against the rug below him. “Fuck. This is so stupid…but I had a dream about you. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“A dream? About me?” he could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone, probably trying to put distance between her and her partner just like he had done.

“Yeah. A dream. It isn’t the first one I’ve had either.” They were both silent for a moment before he continued. God, why was he admitting this. “And I guess they’ve just helped me realize some things.” His heart was beating so hard that he figured she could hear it through the phone. A sharp intake of breath from her end of the phone had him biting at his nails again.

“What things, Lan?” Lan. He hadn’t heard her say that in months.

“My girl’s asleep in the next room. John is probably in the room next to you asleep. We’re kilometers and kilometers apart but yet, despite all of that, every time I close my fucking eyes all I see is you. All I hear is you laughing. I dream of you.” He sat down, head in his hands. “I guess I never really moved on, Angel.” The nickname had given her long ago falling effortlessly from his lips.

He wouldn’t have been surprised if she hung up the phone, called him a dickhead, and never spoke to him again. All of the worst options lived in his head. The last thing he expected her to say was,

“Lan, I dream of you too.”

[milfsloverblog]

How Eve Felt (NSFW)

Jane Murdstone x Fem!reader

A/N: Listen, this is just pure filth. 1500 words of porn without plot. Nothing but Jane Murdstone smut. I started this WIP months ago and thought I’d never publish it but a few of you liked the snippet I shared, so... Anyway, enjoy <3

tw: spit kink, mention of Christianity related stuff (this is how I deal with my religious trauma)

✨ AO3 LINK IN TITLE ✨

You always tried your best to keep your eyes away from your lady’s flesh when you undressed her. That night had been no different as you only looked at your fingers working on the lacing of her corset.

Jane stayed quiet for a while, her eyes never leaving your reflection in the mirror as you worked behind her.

“You did say this was your first time working as a lady’s maid, didn’t you?” She asked, her voice as stern as it usually was.

“Yes, Miss Murdstone.” You nodded and carefully peeled the corset from her, folding it before placing it by her dress on the chair.

“In that case,” She said as she turned around to face you, cocking her head a little. “I cannot help but wonder where on earth you have learnt how to undress a woman so swiftly.”

You swallowed thickly. Your eyes had caught sight of the swell of her small breasts under her chemise and it instantly made your throat go dry.

What were you supposed to tell her? Oh, well, I have undressed my fair share of women, right before laying with them.

“Well?” She insisted. “Cat got your tongue?!”

You knew then by the smirk on her face that Miss Murdstone probably had a good idea of how you’d become an expert at undressing the fairer sex.

“I suppose I'm a quick learner, my lady.” You simply answered, hoping it would satisfy the tall woman’s curiosity.

Jane narrowed her eyes, silently looking at you for a moment while the gears turned in her head.

“Take my chemise off.” She eventually ordered in a bark.

It felt like she was testing you. Sure, this was part of what a lady’s maid had to do but the way she said it, it did feel like she was testing you.

You ended up doing as you were told, silently thanking your hands for not shaking too much when you grabbed the hem of her chemise and pulled the garment over her head.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Do not look.

“Look at me.” Jane demanded, your eyes immediately snapping from your hands to her face.

“I am looking at you, Miss Murdstone.”

“Look at me the way you really wish to.” She smirked again and you were sure your thumping heartbeat could be heard throughout the whole household.

You exhaled shakily and eventually moved your gaze from her eyes to her nose, then down to her mouth. What would it be like to kiss her? To lick over the scar on her lip? To have her tongue push into your mouth?

You spent a few seconds on the length of her neck, watching her pulse point steadily move up and down. From the look of it, she didn’t seem nervous about what was happening, at least not as much as you were.

Her shoulders were next, pulling a smile from your lips. It was a funny thing, really, for a cold and metallic woman like Jane to have such an inviting freckled skin.

Your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes landed on her chest, her nipples visibly hardening as you took in her pert breasts.

“Miss Murdstone, we should not-“ You were cut off by Jane’s hand roughly grabbing hold of your face, her fingertips digging almost painfully into your cheeks.

“And who decides on what we should or should not do, hm?” She asked, using a honey-dripping voice as if she wasn’t holding you with a vice-like grip.

“You, Miss Murdstone.” You whispered barely audibly, nearly letting a whine out when she let go of your jaw.

“Good.” She gave a slight nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened when you noticed that she was slowly spreading her legs. Her lips pulled in a devilish smirk seeing how your face twitched as you tried your best to keep your eyes locked on hers, knowing full well the sight that would be waiting for you if you allowed yourself to look down at her crotchless bloomers.

Jane had to admit that she was impressed by your self-restraint, many girls would have run for the door while some, fewer, would have touched her already.

“Kneel.” She barked, delighting in the way you slightly jumped at the unexpected order.

Your legs wobbled and you fell to your knees like a devotee praying at the altar. Your gaze inevitably fell on the wet pink flesh between her legs, your mouth watering at how inviting it looked.

“Well, do come closer!” Jane spoke as if she was in a hurry and for a split second you wondered if she was eager to feel you on her.

You did as you were told, crawling closer until you were kneeling between her legs and tentatively placed your hands on her covered knees. Jane raised an eyebrow at the boldness of your move but decided she would allow it.

“I assume you have done this before, haven’t you?” The woman asked, her chin never lowering as she looked down at you, making her appear even more condescending.

“Have I ever found myself between a woman’s legs? Yes. Have I ever knelt before one? No.” But I don’t mind kneeling for you. I don’t mind praying at your altar. I would spend the rest of my life on my knees if you asked me to. I do want to worship you.

“Let us make it a memorable first time, shall we?” Jane purred and her fingers took hold of your face again, gentler than they did before.

She tilted your head back as far as it would go and pried your jaws open, chuckling when you stuck your tongue out instinctively.

“Aren’t you a well-trained slut?” Jane cooed, gathering the saliva in her mouth and slowly letting it fall on your tongue, a wave of arousal coating her sex when your pupils dilated.

The older woman raised an eyebrow and, knowing exactly what was expected of you, you closed your eyes and swallowed. You couldn’t help but be reminded of your first Holy Communion when, kneeling before the priest, the sacred host had been placed on your tongue.

You almost let an Amen slip from your lips when Jane suddenly grabbed a handful of your hair and your eyes snapped back open.

“How many women have you laid with?”

“Plenty.” You admitted in a whisper, wondering how many Jane had shared her bed with.

“Prove it.” She smirked, bringing your face closer to her cunt.

You didn’t waste any more time and dipped your thumbs into the warmth between Jane’s legs, brushing the tip of one thumb over her clit to watch the way her whole body responded. Jane jerked, hips canting forward, and you hid your grin by placing a soft kiss on the milky skin of her inner thigh. The woman’s breath hitched and you wondered if it was caused by her not expecting any softness from you (or anyone else).

Keeping your fingers holding Jane open, you leaned in closer, blowing lightly over her cunt before burying your face in it. You wrapped your lips around the woman’s clit and sucked sharply, Jane’s body jolting above you as a moan tore itself from the back of her throat.

The woman opened her mouth to speak but cut herself off as you sucked harder, drawing tight circles around her clit. Moving one hand from where you had it braced around Jane’s thigh, you pushed your thumb into her entrance, tugging at her opening and massaging inside of her. The streak of moans that escaped your lady’s lips made your whole body shudder.

Then suddenly her hand snaked back in your hair, holding tightly and so close to your scalp that you felt your skin burn. Jane pressed you so deep into herself you could hardly breathe. She had taken back control of herself, and of you as well. You fisted the material of Jane’s drawers and squeezed your eyes shut as your tongue was ridden, your lady grinding herself into your mouth exactly how she wanted, how she needed.

Feverish shivers ran down your spine, your knees slowly sliding open on the wood flooring. You wished you had tucked a pillow between your legs before this began so you could ride out your own pleasure as you dripped from having your face fucked. But your lady wouldn’t have allowed it, you were quite certain she enjoyed having you squirm helplessly.

Jane’s movements became erratic, her chest quickly heaving up and down as she desperately chased her release. And then you felt it. You felt her come. You felt the cruelest woman you knew come into your mouth, her clit throbbing against your tongue as she let a single loud guttural moan out.

As the hand on the back of your head loosened its grip, you slumped against the older woman’s thigh. And as you knelt there, half of your face slick and chin dripping with Jane’s essence, you wondered - is this how Eve felt, taking the first bite of the forbidden fruit, as pomegranate juice dripped on her naked breasts from her open lips?

————————————————————————

tag list: @mysteriouslysapphic @opheliauniverse @yourlocaldisneyvillain @notinmyvocab @h-doodles @teeniegreeniebeanie @katie-bennet @willowshadenox @bikergurl5 @renravens

[h0rnyauth0r]

ok but morning thoughts: ghost tying you up and hate fucking you after you decide to betray the shadows and join him >>>>>

pls dni if you're under 16, thank you!

wc: 1500

tws: knives, hate fucking (barely), unprotected sex, fingering, clit play, rough sex, cumming inside, reader has a vagina and is referred to as a girl

he catches you trying to infiltrate and collect information from his side on a mission and gets very angry with you, but you’re 100% oblivious to this since you think nobody has seen you.

you’re on a rooftop slowly sneaking to an open window when he decides to make it known. your body flies into the window and onto the floor from him kicking you roughly, and you have no time to react when he shoves you down with a knife pressed against your throat.

“now what’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” he asks roughly, digging a knee into your back and using his knife-free hand to pull your wrists behind you.

you don’t know how to come up with an excuse, shaking in fear. “i-”

he slams your body down roughly, making you cough loudly. “you chose your side. this is the last chance you’ll have to change and help us.”

you know he’s about to kill you if you say the wrong thing, and that terrifies you. he’s angry because you chose graves and the americans over him, and you know the others feel hurt by it too.

you have no choice but to betray your friends who are apart of the shadows now. you know that what they’re doing is wrong, you should make it right.

“i’ll join you. please don’t kill me.” you struggle to say, frustrated tears filling your eyes as he finally moves the knife away from your neck.

i’m finally free, you think. but that thought is quickly proven to be the opposite as he grabs you and ties your wrists up with rope. fear is overwhelming you in the moment, but also something else as he quickly forces you up by your bound hands.

you’re brought into an abandoned room with no windows, just a chair in the center and a desk placed against one of the walls which causes your anxiety to jump through the roof. he places you there roughly, staring you down as you try to get comfortable.

he cracks his knuckles and grabs his knife from his pocket, lifting it to your throat. “you know what this room’s supposed to be used for?” he asks you in an angry tone, and you shake your head.

but you do know, it’s clearly a torture room and you want nothing more than to die now. “please don’t, sim-”

he cuts your words off. “do not call me that.” his voice is venomous as he speaks down to you, “you lost that privilege the moment you chose the shadows over us.”

the knife is now burning against your skin, leaving small lacerations due to the pressure. you can feel your heart beating out of your chest, and some filthy part of you feels more horny than you’ll ever admit.

“i had no choice!” you say loudly, and he shakes his head at you in disappointment. the knife is finally taken away again and he tucks it into his pocket, looking you up and down.

a loud sigh passes his masked mouth. “you did. you could’ve joined us. we would’ve protected you, i would have protected you.” he sounds almost hurt in the moment, and you’re surprised that he’s even speaking so much.

before any of this happened, he rarely ever spoke. “i’m sorry, ghost. i felt helpless in the moment. you have no idea how guilty i’ve felt. i never wanted to let anyone down… especially you.” you say quietly.

while working for only a short amount of time, you’d grown close to taskforce 141 and even the mexican special forces. graves told you nothing about the betrayal, which made you freeze up in the moment.

you feel ghost’s hand pull your chin up, his eyes looking into yours. he still looks angry, but his eyes show his pain. it makes you feel disgusting in the moment.

he grips your face, hand moving down to your throat and squeezing before he releases you and lets out an angry noise. you hardly have time to think before his mask is up past his lips and he’s kissing you roughly.

as his lips move against yours, he pulls your body up from the chair and grabs onto your waist roughly, hands groping at random places on your body and making a strong heat form in between your thighs.

your pants are discarded, his body pushing you against the desk as he pulls his mask back down and rubs his fingers against your clothed pussy. you let out soft moans of pleasure.

he pushes your panties aside and roughly inserts two of his fingers into your tight hole, curling his fingers and making your mouth fall open in pleasure.

your body leans against him as he moves his fingers quickly, the squelching of your pussy making both you and him hungry for more. his thumb starts rubbing against your clit and that’s what sends you reeling, back arching and hips grinding against his hand.

you feel so close to cumming and you want to reach out and touch him so badly, hands struggling against the rope behind your back. right as you’re about to approach your high, he moves his hand away from you.

“what the fuck?”

“traitors don’t get to cum on my fingers.” he whispers, sending chills down your spine.

there’s a sadistic glint in his dark eyes as he forces his fingers into your mouth, watching you suck on his fingers for a few seconds before releasing them.

he pulls his dick out of his pants, and it’s bigger than you thought it’d be. but that only makes your arousal that much stronger as he quickly lines himself up with your pussy, pushing in slowly inch by inch.

you’re gasping from the size, wetness providing just enough lubrication for his cock to fit. once he bottoms out, you’re already so close to your release. “fuck,” he almost moans out, “you’re so good for me. i’m going to fucking wreck you.”

your eyes meet when he says that to you, and you want nothing more than to touch him. he thrusts into you hard, so hard that you gasp out for air and mewl out loudly.

your eyes start fluttering shut when he smacks your face, which makes tears well up in your eyes and you feel disgusting for enjoying that so much. “bad girl. eyes on me.” his accent in that moment makes your thighs tremble.

you keep your eyes open as much as you can, but it’s so hard to when he’s fucking into you so fast and roughly. his dick hits against your cervix in the most painful manner, but it feels so good.

his hand moves down your body, squeezing your tits and eventually moving to your clit and he rubs tight circles into it. your hips start rocking against his as you cry out, orgasm approaching very quickly.

“go on. cum on my cock.” he says to you, your eyes rolling back as you finally reach your high. your moans become louder as the waves of pleasure overcome you, body twitching against him.

he finds himself cumming not long after from the feeling of your pussy clenching on his dick, growling lowly and digging his fingers into your hips as he stutters his movements.

the feeling of his hot cum filling you up makes you cry out once more, biting down on your bottom lip as you watch his face contorting in pleasure. he looks so fucking hot to you as he slows down.

eventually he comes down from his own high, sliding his dick out of you. you feel his cum run down your legs as you breathe heavily, not knowing what to say.

“ghost, i-”

he puts a hand over your mouth, using the other to cut the rope from your hands in a quick motion. “we’ll discuss it with the others.” is all that he says, looking at your burned wrists and rubbing them slowly.

you find your pants and pull them back on, seeing him walking towards the door of the room. you stop him by grabbing his wrist and as he turns to you, you find yourself hugging him tightly.

he stiffens at the feeling before relaxing, arms squeezing you roughly. you can tell that he doesn’t do well with physical touch, but you’re glad he didn't back away in the moment.

“thank you for not killing me.” you say quietly, and he looks into your eyes.

“i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i did.” his usually gruff voice sounds gentle when he says that, hand touching your waist as he pulls you out of the room with him.

“this will be fun.” you say, not knowing how the others are going to feel about you trying to come back after betraying them.

ghost thinks it’s probably for the best if you don’t know how thin the walls are here, since they likely heard everything that just happened with you two.

[byebyassociation]

Cahara the Skank (Character analysis)

Tw: The topics of 1500s prostitution, violent rape and suicide ideation

Text version under cut:

Cahara as a protagonist

“Cahara of the South… He originates from the Eastern Sanctuaries. A bastard child left on his own at a very young age. Somehow this poor soul found his way to these dungeons…”

Cahara grew up under unfortunate circumstances, as he was abandoned in Jettiah he had to learn nothing in life came easy or freely

He had three choices to be a pickpocket, burglar, Or lead an honest life

But this choice means little past starting skill/item. No matter what Cahara becomes a mercenary.

“As you grew older you took part in various mercenary armies and learned the dirtiest tricks to stay alive. You were taken in by a notorious veteran highwayman and you joined his little band of criminals and ex-soldiers.”

Instead his first real life choice is if he will stay beside his first real allies or ditch them for his life.

They do not join him in the dungeons if they live

“During one of your many raids, your brigade got ambushed. The odds were seriously against you. You could have just abandoned your comrades and kept you life, or you could have fought to your last breath...”

He didn’t have to take this mission, however his mental narration states as if he does: shoving down fear for the money.

“Something is clearly not right about this mission and you have felt nausea since the the moment you agreed on the job. But you are short on silver and the reward is all that matters in the end.”

Really, he shoved his own feelings down for Celeste

"Celeste, you're still doing this job with the little one on the way and all?!"

Cahara is not opposed to Celeste’s sex work, instead he is opposed to the men who want her due to her pregnancy

"If anything, I feel like there're more gentlemen folks asking for my services these days."

"This isn't right. I don't like it."

"Girl's gotta eat and now I got the little one to feed as well”

"I'm a man. I should take care of you two."

“I’m leaving tomorrow if— no when I get back things will change. You just wait and see!"

He doesn’t tell her what to do, only stating what he himself can do for her

Sadly, he either already had a sense this could be his end or didn’t even let himself think this would be the last time he spoke to or saw Celeste in the flesh

"Just promise you do come back."

He knocked her up in a brothel and contracted syphilis.

“You also get an itch in your groin area...”

Unfortunately a sign of the sorts of people who’d pay for her services without care for her body.

After at least speaking with Celeste he fully made up his mind. He wouldn’t come back without the cash.

“But didn’t he like it?”

Cahara as an NPC

"Oh hey."

"You got me out of here!"

Upon meeting Cahara in the prisons of the dungeons, he is quick to join your party after a short conversation

[You ask him] “What are you doing here?"

[He answers] "Wwell...”

“I do have a mission here, but let's save that story for another day, yeah?"

Regardless of your questioning, he speaks quite anxiously. Stuttering or going silent in an out of character sequence

[You ask him] "Why were you imprisoned here?"

[He answers] "I was caught by one of those malformed prison guards”

“Your conversation took an awkward turn for some reason...”

Prison guards are shown to be sexually violent to those they have access to. Both in their dialogue, their attacks and how defeat by them causes incurable hemorrhaging from sexual injuries.

Cahara does not show signs of this hemorrhaging, however D’arce doesn’t have a concussion either despite nearly having her skull caved in. Both lack status effects for the sake of balance.

When Cahara robs you he has a preference for stealing healing items

This may be his attempt to patch himself up as there is no canon cure for internal bleeding.

[D’arce’s prison dialogue says] "Le'garde... You were supposed to be here…”

When in the prisons most characters bring up your common mission. D’arce, Ragnvaldr and even Enki bring this point up

Cahara breaks this formula

[Cahara’s prison dialogue says] "Tell me... Did the guards ever capture you here?"

He wants to know if he was the only one. He wants to know if there was anything he could’ve done. He’s seeking solidarity. He’s seeking kinship

"Don't let the dungeon have it's way with you. Bye."

"Talk about traumatizing events... Sheesh…”

"This place is starting to get into my head...”

Does this sound like the words of someone unaffected by the dungeons? He is nonchalant but he is not well. In fact that last line is repeated 11 times. He has 18 unique dialogue lines in party talks, none of his dialogue or anyone else’s appears nearly as many times repeatedly.

He’s gone into shutdown, in the upper areas and especially the prisons and areas around it he just cannot hold up. Mentally he cannot juggle his need to keep moving forward and process what happened. 

This leaves his mind to go entirely unfiltered when he is in a space where he can think. Suicide ideation and turning to sex for comfort being his two major callings in this state. Sometimes even mashing together through his willingness to marry a marriage, a very literally dangerous form of sex.

"Hahaha, this is too good"

"Dying down here is most likely the easiest way to go!"

'I'm starting to feel like death would be the easiest option."

“Cahara seems really enthusiastic.”

"Just don't destroy my anus with those big muscles of yours, okay?"

"Ehh, well that's a freaky suggestion, but fine."

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Somewhere Out There Is Somebody (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Valentine's Day, Soulmate AU

Summary: On February 13, those over 16 receive an empty box in the mail every year. You place items in the box and they appear in your soulmate's box the following day. Until now, you haven't figured out who your soulmate is. But after an unexpected run-in with your least favorite aviator, you discover your other half may be closer than you think.

Word Count: 4030

TW: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Right in Front of You the Whole Time, Language

Note: Thank you to @wildbornsiren and @green-socks for helping me work out this concept. Your advice really gave me the confidence to pursue this idea! 💖 And also thank you for beta reading, Sam! 😘

I wanted to come up with an original concept for a Soulmate AU and I have not seen one done exactly like this so I figured I would give it a shot! I would love to know what people think of it as a concept as well as the execution in the fic! 🥰

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

You couldn’t believe it was already February 13th. You had been so preoccupied lately with the last few missions, increased training, and yearly inspections that it completely slipped your mind. Yet there was no denying the date when you checked your mailbox and found a red, heart-shaped box with a ribbon tied around it. 

“Oh, shit,” you cursed under your breath as you picked the Box up. It looked exactly the same as it did every year since it had first shown up in your mailbox when you were 16. Just as it looked the same as every other Box that magically appeared in everyone’s mailboxes on this day once they reached that age.

No one knew exactly how it happened or when it started. Some say a form of the Boxes had been around since the 1800s, while others claimed to have found mentions of something like them back in the 1500s, while some scholars tried to argue the proof of their existence as far back as the 1300s or even crude versions in Ancient Rome. But in modern times, a holiday was formed around the arrival of the Boxes, one centered on love and giving. They called it Valentine’s Day after one of the earlier mentions of the event in a poem. And every year at that time, the same thing happened all over the world.

On February 13, the Box would appear in your mailbox. When it did, you would place items into it, things that either showed off who you were or showed your love and admiration for the person about to receive what you picked out. Then, you would place the Box back into your mailbox by midnight. The next morning, the Box would still be there, but it would now be filled with different objects. Objects that your soulmate had placed in their Box the day before.

Over the years, you had received a wide variety of trinkets from your soulmate: various types of candy, love-themed stuffed animals, the occasional jewelry, a wooden rose, a well-worn baseball, a picture frame left empty just waiting for a photo to go inside it, a bottle of half-used cologne, a stack of recipes.

And every year, there was a famous love poem nestled at the bottom. You often wondered if he would write you original poetry if it was allowed, but the Boxes didn’t permit that sort of thing. Nothing handwritten or originally composed, no photographs, no business cards, no blatantly identifiable items of any kind. Anything you placed in your Box that was deemed too telling by whatever magic or energy made the Boxes work remained in your Box when you opened it the next day.

It had only happened to you once when you tried to send a pin with the Naval Academy’s logo on it the year you were accepted, but apparently, it was too much of a hint as to your identity to pass on to your soulmate. It seemed as if the Boxes wanted to help you find your soulmates, but didn’t want things to be too easy for you either.

Glancing at your watch, you cursed even louder as you realized that at this time of night, the only places in the area that might still be open were convenience stores or the Walgreens a few blocks away. However, this close to the deadline, stores like Walgreens that catered to the Boxes were usually packed with last-minute shoppers or picked clean by now. So, with a sigh, you jumped back into your truck and drove down to the convenience store at the end of the block. 

Unfortunately, there really wasn’t a wide selection to choose from. Just meaningless junk and useless items. Reluctantly, you settled on a California shot glass (broad locations were usually allowed and your soulmate had once sent the wrapper from a bottle of whiskey so you assumed he drank) and a car air freshener shaped like a heart in one of your favorite fragrances. It was pathetic, but at least it was something.

As you headed up to the sizeable check-out line, you stumbled to a stop as you recognized the man at the end of the line. You stared at the back of his head all day during briefings and meetings so even from behind, it was impossible to mistake him. For a moment, you considered waiting for him to finish checking out or even just leaving the store now without your purchase, but it was almost 11:30 pm and time was running out to get your items into your Box. So, taking a deep breath, you stepped into line.

Sensing someone approaching from behind, Hangman glanced over his shoulder and did a double take as he recognized you. He flinched slightly and his shoulders tensed, yet his usual cocky smile slowly spread across his face. “Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here. I would have thought Miss Perfect would have had her gift planned out weeks ago. Cutting things a little close there, aren’t we?”

You felt the familiar heat rising in your chest that happened anytime you were around Hangman. Ever since the day the two of you had met at the Academy, you had gotten along like oil and water. Always trying to one-up the other or prove you were the best, your interactions usually ended with some sort of heated argument or screaming match. The universe seemed to enjoy your little feud because, by some bizarre twist of fate, the two of you had ended up in the same squadron after graduation. And you were both transferred together to the next one. Then to the same class at Top Gun. And yet another joint squadron change. It was practically unheard of, and yet, since the first day of either of your careers, you had been working together. But it never lessened the antagonistic tension between you. If anything, it only got worse as time went on.

When you were in the sky, the two of you could work together in perfect harmony and despite everything, you were the perfect wingmen for one another. Yet, the moment the two of you got face-to-face on the ground, that was when things became hostile. Just like now.

Trying your best to maintain your composure, you snapped, “We’ve been out of the country for the last two weeks. When was I supposed to get anything? Besides, you’re here too.” Looking down at his hands, you rolled your eyes as you spotted the fighter jet-shaped object he was holding. “A keychain? That’s the best you can do? Wow, Bagman. Some girl out there is so lucky to have you as her soulmate.”

Hangman’s jaw clenched tightly and you could tell he was trying his best not to start cursing you out in the middle of the checkout line. Instead, he just sneered, “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk. I’m sure your soulmate is going to love that tacky glass and a single air freshener.” 

You felt your cheeks growing warm as you stared daggers at him, but it wasn’t all due to anger. Though you would never admit it, you knew he was right. This was a pathetic excuse for a present for the person who was meant to be the love of your life. He always gave you such lovely, meaningful gifts and this was the best you could do? You wish there was some way to explain what happened. That this was all due to bad timing and an insanely busy schedule and that you had wanted to give him so much more. But without a way to send personal messages, this was all you could do. 

However, just because all of that was true, it didn’t mean you were going to let Hangman get away with pointing it out. Still glaring at him, you said, “As a matter of fact, I know this is exactly the sort of thing he will love. You don’t know anything about him or me outside of work, so why don’t you just shut the fuck up, and worry about your pathetic gift and how disappointed your soulmate is going to be in the morning.”

For a brief moment, the expression on Hangman’s face wasn’t one of anger or rage. It was one of pain. And you realized he probably felt as shitty about his gift as you did about yours. You knew there was more to Hangman than he ever revealed to the other aviators, and at this moment, you felt like for the first time you might have gotten a glimpse of this other side of him. But before you could say anything, he steeled his face once more and whirled around to face the counter without another word.

Even with his back to you, you could see he was still very upset. His broad shoulders were tensed as he stood slightly hunched over and drawn in on himself. Suddenly, you had the urge to wrap your arms around him from behind and press your face against his shoulder blades as you whispered soft apologies to make up for what you had said. But you quickly shook your head to snap yourself out of it. This was Hangman. The two of you fought more than cats and dogs. This was just how it was between you. And yet, as he finished paying and glanced quickly back at you one final time, you couldn’t help but wish you had apologized after all.

That night, you tossed and turned in bed, haunted by what had happened with your run-in with Hangman and how you should have handled it differently. However, all of it was forgotten the moment you woke up and remembered what day it was. Springing out of bed, you threw on some clothes and rushed out the front door.

As much as you wanted nothing more than to run downstairs and return with your Box as quickly as you could, it just wasn’t possible. The entire building had the same thought. As soon as you stepped out of your apartment, you were met with a crowd of people all struggling to make it to the stairwell. The landlord had hired someone for each floor to attempt to control the traffic, but as usual, it was a useless endeavor. There was nothing to do but wait your turn as the horde of people slowly made their way down the stairs and to the row of mailboxes by the front door. 

When you finally made it to your mailbox and retrieved the package from inside, you hurried back upstairs with the Box clutched tightly to your chest. Some people couldn’t stand the anticipation and had ripped open their Boxes in the lobby, but you preferred to open yours in the privacy of your apartment. Luckily, getting back up was a lot quicker than getting down. The crowds had thinned as most people made it down to their mailboxes and you were able to make it back in only a few minutes.

Once inside, you leaned heavily on your door, trying to calm your excitement. You waited all year for this moment, to get just the tiniest glimpse into the person who was supposedly your other half. Yet no matter how happy you were, you couldn’t help but dread the feeling of disappointment he must be having seeing what you placed inside your box this year. You just hoped you could make it up to him next year, potentially even in person. But maybe that was too much wishful thinking. 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the lid. The second you saw what was inside, you dropped the Box as if it had burned you, spilling the contents across the floor. Gasping, you slid down the door to the ground, your hands pressed tightly over your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There had to be some kind of mistake. Somehow the Boxes got mixed up and yours was sent to the wrong person while you received this one instead. Because this could not be your Box. 

Yet, there was no denying the truth. A piece of paper stuck out of the Box. Glancing quickly at it, you saw that it was your yearly love poem, though this one had a theme of forgiveness and doing better in the future as well as love. As in, asking forgiveness for such a crappy gift this year. Because there, peeking out from underneath the table where it had landed, was the only other item from the Box: a familiar-looking keychain shaped like a fighter jet. 

A million different explanations ran through your head as you tried to think of some rational explanation that didn’t end with your soulmate being your wingman. They probably sold these same keychains in thousands of stores across the country and maybe he finally figured out your clues and realized you were a fighter pilot. Maybe he got his pilot’s license this year and this was his way of sharing the news. Maybe he might have gone to an airshow and wished you were there with him. Or…. maybe the keychain you now held in your hand was the same one you had seen last night in the convenience store.

You had to find out for sure. There was no way you could go about your day until you had verified this was all just some big cosmic misunderstanding. So, you grabbed the keychain, your bag, your keys, and your jacket before hurrying towards the door. 

Your jacket was only half on as you threw open the door and were almost hit in the face with a fist that was in the process of knocking. Dodging back, you saw Hangman standing in the hallway, his chest heaving as if he had just run the whole way here. Glancing down, you saw that in the hand he didn’t have raised, he was holding your shot glass and air freshener. So, it was true….

At the same moment, he noticed the keychain in your hand. His eyes grew wide as he whispered, “No fucking way…”

“How?” You stumbled backward, and for a moment, you thought you might collapse. But a large hand shot out and grabbed your elbow, steadying you. Hangman had touched you many times before, yet there was something different about this time. It felt safe and comforting and it sent a small shiver across your skin. 

You wondered if Hangman felt it too because his grip tightened and he pulled you a little closer to him. His eyes searched your face as he asked, “Are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay! What about this situation makes you think I’d be okay? You wanted to scream at him, but you know it wouldn’t do any good. So, you just pull your arm out of his grasp and take a few steps back. “Yeah, I’m fine. I-I just need a minute.” 

You hurried off into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water off the counter. Draining it in just a few gulps, you wipe the back of your hand across your mouth as you try to figure out what to do next. Your mind was running a mile a minute and all you wanted to do was to lay down in your bed, burrow under the covers, and forget this morning ever happened. However, this was not something you could just ignore for now and figure out later. Hangman was still in your living room just waiting for you to return. You knew you had to face him sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner.

As you walked back into the living room, you saw Hangman standing by your bookcase. When you got closer, he held up the picture frame you had received in your Box a few years ago. With a wistful smile on his lips, he said, “You still have this. And you kept it empty…”

With your arms crossed tightly across your chest, you gave a half-hearted shrug. “I never had the right photo with the right person to put in it.” As you reached out to take it from him, your mind flashed to the hundreds of photos with you and Hangman people had taken over the years. “Or I guess I did and just didn’t realize it.”

Jake ran his thumb across the back of your hand. “Sweetheart, I–”

The pet name was the final straw as you felt something snap within you. “No, no, I’m sorry.” You pulled away from his touch and placed the picture frame back on the bookshelf. “I’m sorry, but it can’t be you. It– It just can’t be.” 

Hangman turned away but not before you saw the pain flash in his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you. I guess you thought you’d be paired with someone better. Someone you could at least stand to be in the same room with.” He started heading towards the door, but you jumped in front of him to stop him from leaving. 

“No, it’s not that at all. Hangm– Jake.” His head was still hung low so you took his face between your hands and turned it so he was staring at you. Taking a shuttering breath, you explained, “It can’t be you because I don’t think I can handle the fact that we’ve known each other for almost 10 years and didn’t know. That my soulmate was right in front of me this whole time and I never…. That I wasted so much time arguing and fighting with him that I never allowed myself to see him for what he truly was.”

But it didn’t matter how much you wanted things to be different. There was no denying the truth at this point. In hindsight, it all made perfect sense. That heat in your chest you felt every time Hangman walked into the room wasn’t hate at all. It was love. Love you thought you could never have so you used it to fuel your anger towards him. You had turned the magnetic pull between you into something ugly and bitter all because you were hurt he could never be yours. And because of that, you almost ruined everything. 

Jake must have seen the tears forming in your eyes and the way your lip trembled as you tried to hold it together because his pained expression softened into one of understanding. “Oh, sweetheart.”

He softly took your arm and drew you into his chest. The gesture was so tender and soft that you couldn’t fight it anymore. Tears began to pour down your cheeks as you buried your face into his shoulder. Jake’s hand gently caressed your back, rubbing small, soothing circles across it while you sobbed. And it felt so right. The hot feeling you got in your chest whenever Hangman was around spread throughout you and when he lightly pressed his lips to the top of your head, you thought you might explode.

As your tears began to dry up and your sobs faded, you still remained wrapped in his embrace. In fact, you never wanted to leave it. But there were still some things you needed to figure out.

So, you lifted your head slightly, and whispered, “The worst part is, I know it’s you. I’ve known since the minute I first saw you back at the Academy. Sitting in class with that stupid toothpick in your mouth and the big ol’ grin on your face. You were the most handsome man I’d ever seen, and I instantly fell for you. For a moment, I even let myself imagine you might be my soulmate.” You tilted your head up to look him squarely in the face. “But when I asked you about one of the poems my soulmate had sent me, you said you’d never heard of it.”

Hangman smiled softly with a sorrowful gleam in his eyes. “I remember that day perfectly. You walked up to introduce yourself and when I saw you, I couldn’t breathe. You were the most beautiful person I had ever seen and your voice… When you mentioned the poem, I had a momentary flash of hope that it could be you. But it was a really popular poem and one I had sent a few years before, so I just figured it was wishful thinking. And I couldn’t admit it right then anyway. Because with her – with you – I was Jake. As open and real and vulnerable as I’ve ever been with another person. But when you asked me in class, in front of the rest of the cadets, you were talking to Hangman, and he would never be caught dead reading poetry. So, I lied. And it seems that I doomed us both.” 

You shook your head frantically. “No, Jake. This isn’t just on you. I lied too. I was so upset that you weren’t my soulmate that when you started asking me about what sort of music I listened to and you mentioned a bunch of artists, including the band whose CD I had sent you, I said I didn’t know any of them because I couldn’t handle talking to you right then. I just wanted the conversation to be over. But if I had just told the truth, you probably would have realized who I was. So, this is just as much on me as it is on you.”

“Thank you.” He placed another kiss in the middle of your forehead and a wave of warmth flowed through you all the way down to your toes. Then he chuckled, “I guess the universe knew we were idiots and needed as much help as we could get. Maybe that’s why we’re still stuck together through every mission and every transfer. Not even the United States Navy is a match for soulmates.”

“I guess not,” you giggled. Then, turning more serious again, you said, “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I am lucky to have you as a soulmate. And I’m not disappointed in the slightest.”

“I’m sorry too. I do in fact love my glass and air freshener.”

You rolled your eyes. “You called that glass tacky yesterday…. And you’re not wrong. You don’t have to pretend to like it. I know it’s crap.”

Jake grabbed your shoulders and held you away from him so you could see his face. “I’m not pretending! I really do like it!”

“Why?”

“Because you gave it to me.”

You groaned as a huge smile lit up your face and you playfully slapped his chest. “Oh, God. We’re going to be one of those super mushy, romantic couples that drives everyone crazy with how in love we are, aren’t we?”

“I’m counting on it.” There was absolutely no humor or playfulness in his tone. Just complete sincerity. And as you gazed into his pale green eyes, it felt as if you were staring directly into his soul. It felt as if you were staring directly into your own heart. 

Jake’s fingers brushed against your cheek before gently tilting your chin back. Your eyes fluttered shut even before his lips pressed against yours. Before this moment, you thought you knew what a kiss felt like, what love felt like. And yet, nothing you had ever experienced felt anything close to kissing Jake. It was like sticking your finger into an electrical socket but instead of pain, your body vibrated with a euphoric buzz of pleasure. 

And as he drew you in closer against his chest, it felt as if your hearts began to sync and beat in time until the two thumps melded into one. There was not a single sliver of doubt left in you. Jake Seresin was your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier about it.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, you continued to gaze into each other's eyes. You reached up and ran your finger across his kiss-swollen lips as you asked, “Well, what now, Jake?”

Jake took your hand and pressed his lips firmly against the back of it before he whispered, “Now, sweetheart, I think we start making up for lost time.”

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog,  @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae, @zebralover, @startrekfangirl2233

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Somewhere Out There Is Somebody (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Valentine's Day, Soulmate AU

Summary: On February 13, those over 16 receive an empty box in the mail every year. You place items in the box and they appear in your soulmate's box the following day. Until now, you haven't figured out who your soulmate is. But after an unexpected run-in with your least favorite aviator, you discover your other half may be closer than you think.

Word Count: 4030

TW: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Right in Front of You the Whole Time, Language

Note: Thank you to @wildbornsiren and @green-socks for helping me work out this concept. Your advice really gave me the confidence to pursue this idea! 💖 And also thank you for beta reading, Sam! 😘

I wanted to come up with an original concept for a Soulmate AU and I have not seen one done exactly like this so I figured I would give it a shot! I would love to know what people think of it as a concept as well as the execution in the fic! 🥰

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

You couldn’t believe it was already February 13th. You had been so preoccupied lately with the last few missions, increased training, and yearly inspections that it completely slipped your mind. Yet there was no denying the date when you checked your mailbox and found a red, heart-shaped box with a ribbon tied around it. 

“Oh, shit,” you cursed under your breath as you picked the Box up. It looked exactly the same as it did every year since it had first shown up in your mailbox when you were 16. Just as it looked the same as every other Box that magically appeared in everyone’s mailboxes on this day once they reached that age.

No one knew exactly how it happened or when it started. Some say a form of the Boxes had been around since the 1800s, while others claimed to have found mentions of something like them back in the 1500s, while some scholars tried to argue the proof of their existence as far back as the 1300s or even crude versions in Ancient Rome. But in modern times, a holiday was formed around the arrival of the Boxes, one centered on love and giving. They called it Valentine’s Day after one of the earlier mentions of the event in a poem. And every year at that time, the same thing happened all over the world.

On February 13, the Box would appear in your mailbox. When it did, you would place items into it, things that either showed off who you were or showed your love and admiration for the person about to receive what you picked out. Then, you would place the Box back into your mailbox by midnight. The next morning, the Box would still be there, but it would now be filled with different objects. Objects that your soulmate had placed in their Box the day before.

Over the years, you had received a wide variety of trinkets from your soulmate: various types of candy, love-themed stuffed animals, the occasional jewelry, a wooden rose, a well-worn baseball, a picture frame left empty just waiting for a photo to go inside it, a bottle of half-used cologne, a stack of recipes.

And every year, there was a famous love poem nestled at the bottom. You often wondered if he would write you original poetry if it was allowed, but the Boxes didn’t permit that sort of thing. Nothing handwritten or originally composed, no photographs, no business cards, no blatantly identifiable items of any kind. Anything you placed in your Box that was deemed too telling by whatever magic or energy made the Boxes work remained in your Box when you opened it the next day.

It had only happened to you once when you tried to send a pin with the Naval Academy’s logo on it the year you were accepted, but apparently, it was too much of a hint as to your identity to pass on to your soulmate. It seemed as if the Boxes wanted to help you find your soulmates, but didn’t want things to be too easy for you either.

Glancing at your watch, you cursed even louder as you realized that at this time of night, the only places in the area that might still be open were convenience stores or the Walgreens a few blocks away. However, this close to the deadline, stores like Walgreens that catered to the Boxes were usually packed with last-minute shoppers or picked clean by now. So, with a sigh, you jumped back into your truck and drove down to the convenience store at the end of the block. 

Unfortunately, there really wasn’t a wide selection to choose from. Just meaningless junk and useless items. Reluctantly, you settled on a California shot glass (broad locations were usually allowed and your soulmate had once sent the wrapper from a bottle of whiskey so you assumed he drank) and a car air freshener shaped like a heart in one of your favorite fragrances. It was pathetic, but at least it was something.

As you headed up to the sizeable check-out line, you stumbled to a stop as you recognized the man at the end of the line. You stared at the back of his head all day during briefings and meetings so even from behind, it was impossible to mistake him. For a moment, you considered waiting for him to finish checking out or even just leaving the store now without your purchase, but it was almost 11:30 pm and time was running out to get your items into your Box. So, taking a deep breath, you stepped into line.

Sensing someone approaching from behind, Hangman glanced over his shoulder and did a double take as he recognized you. He flinched slightly and his shoulders tensed, yet his usual cocky smile slowly spread across his face. “Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here. I would have thought Miss Perfect would have had her gift planned out weeks ago. Cutting things a little close there, aren’t we?”

You felt the familiar heat rising in your chest that happened anytime you were around Hangman. Ever since the day the two of you had met at the Academy, you had gotten along like oil and water. Always trying to one-up the other or prove you were the best, your interactions usually ended with some sort of heated argument or screaming match. The universe seemed to enjoy your little feud because, by some bizarre twist of fate, the two of you had ended up in the same squadron after graduation. And you were both transferred together to the next one. Then to the same class at Top Gun. And yet another joint squadron change. It was practically unheard of, and yet, since the first day of either of your careers, you had been working together. But it never lessened the antagonistic tension between you. If anything, it only got worse as time went on.

When you were in the sky, the two of you could work together in perfect harmony and despite everything, you were the perfect wingmen for one another. Yet, the moment the two of you got face-to-face on the ground, that was when things became hostile. Just like now.

Trying your best to maintain your composure, you snapped, “We’ve been out of the country for the last two weeks. When was I supposed to get anything? Besides, you’re here too.” Looking down at his hands, you rolled your eyes as you spotted the fighter jet-shaped object he was holding. “A keychain? That’s the best you can do? Wow, Bagman. Some girl out there is so lucky to have you as her soulmate.”

Hangman’s jaw clenched tightly and you could tell he was trying his best not to start cursing you out in the middle of the checkout line. Instead, he just sneered, “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk. I’m sure your soulmate is going to love that tacky glass and a single air freshener.” 

You felt your cheeks growing warm as you stared daggers at him, but it wasn’t all due to anger. Though you would never admit it, you knew he was right. This was a pathetic excuse for a present for the person who was meant to be the love of your life. He always gave you such lovely, meaningful gifts and this was the best you could do? You wish there was some way to explain what happened. That this was all due to bad timing and an insanely busy schedule and that you had wanted to give him so much more. But without a way to send personal messages, this was all you could do. 

However, just because all of that was true, it didn’t mean you were going to let Hangman get away with pointing it out. Still glaring at him, you said, “As a matter of fact, I know this is exactly the sort of thing he will love. You don’t know anything about him or me outside of work, so why don’t you just shut the fuck up, and worry about your pathetic gift and how disappointed your soulmate is going to be in the morning.”

For a brief moment, the expression on Hangman’s face wasn’t one of anger or rage. It was one of pain. And you realized he probably felt as shitty about his gift as you did about yours. You knew there was more to Hangman than he ever revealed to the other aviators, and at this moment, you felt like for the first time you might have gotten a glimpse of this other side of him. But before you could say anything, he steeled his face once more and whirled around to face the counter without another word.

Even with his back to you, you could see he was still very upset. His broad shoulders were tensed as he stood slightly hunched over and drawn in on himself. Suddenly, you had the urge to wrap your arms around him from behind and press your face against his shoulder blades as you whispered soft apologies to make up for what you had said. But you quickly shook your head to snap yourself out of it. This was Hangman. The two of you fought more than cats and dogs. This was just how it was between you. And yet, as he finished paying and glanced quickly back at you one final time, you couldn’t help but wish you had apologized after all.

That night, you tossed and turned in bed, haunted by what had happened with your run-in with Hangman and how you should have handled it differently. However, all of it was forgotten the moment you woke up and remembered what day it was. Springing out of bed, you threw on some clothes and rushed out the front door.

As much as you wanted nothing more than to run downstairs and return with your Box as quickly as you could, it just wasn’t possible. The entire building had the same thought. As soon as you stepped out of your apartment, you were met with a crowd of people all struggling to make it to the stairwell. The landlord had hired someone for each floor to attempt to control the traffic, but as usual, it was a useless endeavor. There was nothing to do but wait your turn as the horde of people slowly made their way down the stairs and to the row of mailboxes by the front door. 

When you finally made it to your mailbox and retrieved the package from inside, you hurried back upstairs with the Box clutched tightly to your chest. Some people couldn’t stand the anticipation and had ripped open their Boxes in the lobby, but you preferred to open yours in the privacy of your apartment. Luckily, getting back up was a lot quicker than getting down. The crowds had thinned as most people made it down to their mailboxes and you were able to make it back in only a few minutes.

Once inside, you leaned heavily on your door, trying to calm your excitement. You waited all year for this moment, to get just the tiniest glimpse into the person who was supposedly your other half. Yet no matter how happy you were, you couldn’t help but dread the feeling of disappointment he must be having seeing what you placed inside your box this year. You just hoped you could make it up to him next year, potentially even in person. But maybe that was too much wishful thinking. 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the lid. The second you saw what was inside, you dropped the Box as if it had burned you, spilling the contents across the floor. Gasping, you slid down the door to the ground, your hands pressed tightly over your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There had to be some kind of mistake. Somehow the Boxes got mixed up and yours was sent to the wrong person while you received this one instead. Because this could not be your Box. 

Yet, there was no denying the truth. A piece of paper stuck out of the Box. Glancing quickly at it, you saw that it was your yearly love poem, though this one had a theme of forgiveness and doing better in the future as well as love. As in, asking forgiveness for such a crappy gift this year. Because there, peeking out from underneath the table where it had landed, was the only other item from the Box: a familiar-looking keychain shaped like a fighter jet. 

A million different explanations ran through your head as you tried to think of some rational explanation that didn’t end with your soulmate being your wingman. They probably sold these same keychains in thousands of stores across the country and maybe he finally figured out your clues and realized you were a fighter pilot. Maybe he got his pilot’s license this year and this was his way of sharing the news. Maybe he might have gone to an airshow and wished you were there with him. Or…. maybe the keychain you now held in your hand was the same one you had seen last night in the convenience store.

You had to find out for sure. There was no way you could go about your day until you had verified this was all just some big cosmic misunderstanding. So, you grabbed the keychain, your bag, your keys, and your jacket before hurrying towards the door. 

Your jacket was only half on as you threw open the door and were almost hit in the face with a fist that was in the process of knocking. Dodging back, you saw Hangman standing in the hallway, his chest heaving as if he had just run the whole way here. Glancing down, you saw that in the hand he didn’t have raised, he was holding your shot glass and air freshener. So, it was true….

At the same moment, he noticed the keychain in your hand. His eyes grew wide as he whispered, “No fucking way…”

“How?” You stumbled backward, and for a moment, you thought you might collapse. But a large hand shot out and grabbed your elbow, steadying you. Hangman had touched you many times before, yet there was something different about this time. It felt safe and comforting and it sent a small shiver across your skin. 

You wondered if Hangman felt it too because his grip tightened and he pulled you a little closer to him. His eyes searched your face as he asked, “Are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay! What about this situation makes you think I’d be okay? You wanted to scream at him, but you know it wouldn’t do any good. So, you just pull your arm out of his grasp and take a few steps back. “Yeah, I’m fine. I-I just need a minute.” 

You hurried off into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water off the counter. Draining it in just a few gulps, you wipe the back of your hand across your mouth as you try to figure out what to do next. Your mind was running a mile a minute and all you wanted to do was to lay down in your bed, burrow under the covers, and forget this morning ever happened. However, this was not something you could just ignore for now and figure out later. Hangman was still in your living room just waiting for you to return. You knew you had to face him sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner.

As you walked back into the living room, you saw Hangman standing by your bookcase. When you got closer, he held up the picture frame you had received in your Box a few years ago. With a wistful smile on his lips, he said, “You still have this. And you kept it empty…”

With your arms crossed tightly across your chest, you gave a half-hearted shrug. “I never had the right photo with the right person to put in it.” As you reached out to take it from him, your mind flashed to the hundreds of photos with you and Hangman people had taken over the years. “Or I guess I did and just didn’t realize it.”

Jake ran his thumb across the back of your hand. “Sweetheart, I–”

The pet name was the final straw as you felt something snap within you. “No, no, I’m sorry.” You pulled away from his touch and placed the picture frame back on the bookshelf. “I’m sorry, but it can’t be you. It– It just can’t be.” 

Hangman turned away but not before you saw the pain flash in his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you. I guess you thought you’d be paired with someone better. Someone you could at least stand to be in the same room with.” He started heading towards the door, but you jumped in front of him to stop him from leaving. 

“No, it’s not that at all. Hangm– Jake.” His head was still hung low so you took his face between your hands and turned it so he was staring at you. Taking a shuttering breath, you explained, “It can’t be you because I don’t think I can handle the fact that we’ve known each other for almost 10 years and didn’t know. That my soulmate was right in front of me this whole time and I never…. That I wasted so much time arguing and fighting with him that I never allowed myself to see him for what he truly was.”

But it didn’t matter how much you wanted things to be different. There was no denying the truth at this point. In hindsight, it all made perfect sense. That heat in your chest you felt every time Hangman walked into the room wasn’t hate at all. It was love. Love you thought you could never have so you used it to fuel your anger towards him. You had turned the magnetic pull between you into something ugly and bitter all because you were hurt he could never be yours. And because of that, you almost ruined everything. 

Jake must have seen the tears forming in your eyes and the way your lip trembled as you tried to hold it together because his pained expression softened into one of understanding. “Oh, sweetheart.”

He softly took your arm and drew you into his chest. The gesture was so tender and soft that you couldn’t fight it anymore. Tears began to pour down your cheeks as you buried your face into his shoulder. Jake’s hand gently caressed your back, rubbing small, soothing circles across it while you sobbed. And it felt so right. The hot feeling you got in your chest whenever Hangman was around spread throughout you and when he lightly pressed his lips to the top of your head, you thought you might explode.

As your tears began to dry up and your sobs faded, you still remained wrapped in his embrace. In fact, you never wanted to leave it. But there were still some things you needed to figure out.

So, you lifted your head slightly, and whispered, “The worst part is, I know it’s you. I’ve known since the minute I first saw you back at the Academy. Sitting in class with that stupid toothpick in your mouth and the big ol’ grin on your face. You were the most handsome man I’d ever seen, and I instantly fell for you. For a moment, I even let myself imagine you might be my soulmate.” You tilted your head up to look him squarely in the face. “But when I asked you about one of the poems my soulmate had sent me, you said you’d never heard of it.”

Hangman smiled softly with a sorrowful gleam in his eyes. “I remember that day perfectly. You walked up to introduce yourself and when I saw you, I couldn’t breathe. You were the most beautiful person I had ever seen and your voice… When you mentioned the poem, I had a momentary flash of hope that it could be you. But it was a really popular poem and one I had sent a few years before, so I just figured it was wishful thinking. And I couldn’t admit it right then anyway. Because with her – with you – I was Jake. As open and real and vulnerable as I’ve ever been with another person. But when you asked me in class, in front of the rest of the cadets, you were talking to Hangman, and he would never be caught dead reading poetry. So, I lied. And it seems that I doomed us both.” 

You shook your head frantically. “No, Jake. This isn’t just on you. I lied too. I was so upset that you weren’t my soulmate that when you started asking me about what sort of music I listened to and you mentioned a bunch of artists, including the band whose CD I had sent you, I said I didn’t know any of them because I couldn’t handle talking to you right then. I just wanted the conversation to be over. But if I had just told the truth, you probably would have realized who I was. So, this is just as much on me as it is on you.”

“Thank you.” He placed another kiss in the middle of your forehead and a wave of warmth flowed through you all the way down to your toes. Then he chuckled, “I guess the universe knew we were idiots and needed as much help as we could get. Maybe that’s why we’re still stuck together through every mission and every transfer. Not even the United States Navy is a match for soulmates.”

“I guess not,” you giggled. Then, turning more serious again, you said, “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I am lucky to have you as a soulmate. And I’m not disappointed in the slightest.”

“I’m sorry too. I do in fact love my glass and air freshener.”

You rolled your eyes. “You called that glass tacky yesterday…. And you’re not wrong. You don’t have to pretend to like it. I know it’s crap.”

Jake grabbed your shoulders and held you away from him so you could see his face. “I’m not pretending! I really do like it!”

“Why?”

“Because you gave it to me.”

You groaned as a huge smile lit up your face and you playfully slapped his chest. “Oh, God. We’re going to be one of those super mushy, romantic couples that drives everyone crazy with how in love we are, aren’t we?”

“I’m counting on it.” There was absolutely no humor or playfulness in his tone. Just complete sincerity. And as you gazed into his pale green eyes, it felt as if you were staring directly into his soul. It felt as if you were staring directly into your own heart. 

Jake’s fingers brushed against your cheek before gently tilting your chin back. Your eyes fluttered shut even before his lips pressed against yours. Before this moment, you thought you knew what a kiss felt like, what love felt like. And yet, nothing you had ever experienced felt anything close to kissing Jake. It was like sticking your finger into an electrical socket but instead of pain, your body vibrated with a euphoric buzz of pleasure. 

And as he drew you in closer against his chest, it felt as if your hearts began to sync and beat in time until the two thumps melded into one. There was not a single sliver of doubt left in you. Jake Seresin was your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier about it.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, you continued to gaze into each other's eyes. You reached up and ran your finger across his kiss-swollen lips as you asked, “Well, what now, Jake?”

Jake took your hand and pressed his lips firmly against the back of it before he whispered, “Now, sweetheart, I think we start making up for lost time.”

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @green-socks, @heart-0n-fire, @marvelousmermaid, @mayhem24-7forever, @wildbornsiren, @hederasgarden, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta

[dialovers-lover-xoxo]

💜💜💜 COMMISSIONS! 💜💜💜

Hello, my loves! So for quite a while people have been wondering about commissions and offering me money for my writings. Since many people seem to want commissions from me I figured I'll open them!

I wanted to be as fair as possible with prices, which is actually one of the reasons I took so long to start commissioning: I didn't know how to price it and I didn't want to be unfair with it.

After a whole lot of google searches and looking on Reddit, I've decided my general prices will be:

Under 500 words - $5

500-1000 words - $10

1000-1500 - $15

(And so on and so forth, for every 500 word difference, it will be 5 dollars)

Also if your commission ends up being like 502 words, don't worry, it will still only be 5 dollars. I won't demand 5 extra dollars for 2 words 😂

One-shot or smut requests won't be commissions as they are very low-effort for me and they use an x-reader. It wouldn't be right to ask for money if it's easy to write and won't take a lot of time and effort.

If I need to understand an OC in depth and write an OC into an already made world with already pre-existing characters, it will take much more time and effort.

Payments will be by PayPal but if for some reason PayPal doesn't work for someone, we can probably figure something else out!

There is no pressure to commission. And as I said, I can still take general requests with an x-reader. Commissions are only for requests that will require more time and effort on my part.

I WILL NOT WRITE:

- Rape

- Pedophilia

- Necrophilia

- Beastiality

- Incest

- Anything that I don't feel comfortable with or think is appropriate. I have the right to decide what I'm comfortable writing and what I'm not. For example, if your OC has a traumatic past, I can take that into account as it is simply a part of their character, but I will not write a diaboy actually raping any character.

I can write commissions that include sex or smut, but the person requesting that type of content must be 18 or over.

If you want a commission or have more questions about commissions, please contact me through dms!

Other fandoms I can write for include:

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

- Riordanverse (PJO, HOO, TOA, Magnus Chase)

- My Little Pony

- Stardew Valley

- Undertale

- FNAF

- Life is Strange

- Any Supermassive Games game

- Harry Potter

I can and will also write things that aren't fandom related at all!

Examples of my writing:

The first 3 are x-readers, last is purely diaboys interacting. As said above, I can write a plethora of different fandoms or genres. These are just examples of my writing if you're interested but I can and will write pretty much anything! :)

Other info about my account, including master lists!

[thecameronchronicles]

Red Silk

TW: Dom!Rafe. Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Your choice of ensemble has Rafe needing to show is approval, immediately…

WORD COUNT: 1500

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

Red Silk

"Hey baby, the car's-" His words fell to a dead rest on his lips as you came into his line of sight. Always perfect, you were completely pristine in the natural illumination of beauty only amplified by this chosen ensemble, a red silk dress that accentuated you in every perfect curve. 

"Is it too much? I knew I should have just gone for the green-" You stood in an advanced set of steps to the closet as he was quick to take hold of your hips. But he wouldn't speak a word, he would only push you to the rim of the bed as your fingers took a rest at his arms. 

"Rafe-" He pulled his cufflinks loose, setting them on the bedside table to the sound of his name as his demeanor changed from anxious of another family affair to that dominance you knew well. 

"Now why would you be wearing something like this unless you intended to have all their eyes on you? Wanting to tease them with what only I should get to see?" 

"I-" 

"No, no, baby...your dress is enough of a statement." 

"But we have to-" His fingers wrapped around your jaw, pulling you quiet. 

"The only thing you have to do is do what you do best..." Your eyes narrowed for a moment in pensive scrutiny as he held a list of those apparent things, all of which had nothing to do with this particular moment of standing under his submission, "Being mine." You nodded as he pushed you onto the bed, climbing over you slowly as he took stock of the dress. A specific slit on the side of the left leg was enough of a silent invitation for his touch as his ringed finger ran up the soft skin awaiting his touch. But it wasn't even the chill of your skin in which he was in search of, but the sound of your breath shifting to his touch. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted my attention, when I know you're smart enough to know you already have it..." 

"I want to look good for you, Rafe..." 

He smirked before a scoff pulled your expression to worry about having offended him somehow. He was so quick to anger that you almost had to walk on eggshells to talk, but you were also forgiven just as immediately with nothing more needed than the batting of your lashes. 

"Then why are you dressing up for them?" Your lips parted to speak as he rubbed the nude lipstick from your attempt to answer, before looking at it with disapproval. 

"You know how I feel about lipstick..." 

"I wanted to look nice in the pictures for you..." 

"So you had no intention of wrapping those pretty little lips around me tonight then?" You swallowed hard. 

"So you DO remember how to swallow though...You're being contradicting and a tease in this dress..." His one hand unlatched his belt as the other came to the back of your neck. 

"Now I have to come up with a story on why we're late...Can't very well tell them the real reason why we are, right?" He stood back between your thighs, loosening his tie as you licked your lips. 

"Gotta take care of my girl...always...no matter how desperate she is..." You were suddenly pulled to the very edge of the bed, legs instantly over his shoulders as he kissed up your thigh. 

"Now why would you not be wearing any panties? I know I’ve torn my fair share, but certainly you have at least one left..." 

"I wanted you to touch me...I wanted to make it easy for you to…" You confessed aa he smirked against your skin. 

"Yeah? But how can I know you wanted me?" He asked while looking up at you with a pout. "You could be dripping for anyone-" 

"No. Only you..." He moved back to your face, the same grip to your jaw. 

"I'll find out for myself..." He targeted your sex in slow motions, eyes never faltering, even as you bucked and he leveled your arching back in a return to the bed. 

"You taste so good when you wanna come for me..." 

"Yes..." 

"Yeah? For me? All this for me?" He asked while providing another lick, your eyes rolling in the back of your head before you were taken quickly onto your stomach. The skirt of your dress was a fight to tear to your hips, but once stamped there, you felt his hands selfish at your ass. 

"Goddammit, I wanna come on every part of you baby, how am I supposed to choose? Every fucking part of you needs me, doesn't it?" 

"Please Rafe-" 

"Yeah baby...I know it does..." He pulled back for a moment. 

"You're dripping down your thighs..." He drew a finger to the rivers made of your droplets, worsened by this touch. 

"How are you so fucking sweet and bad at the same time?" A slap to your ass was a sudden diversion from the tongue connecting to your sex. An aggressive tongue on a mission for a quick and violent release would make you tremble for him as he made sporadic swats to your ass while groaning at the sight allowed by his close proximity to the hydraulic response. 

"Fuck!" He groaned, rising from your back, using the slick obtained from his endeavors before spitting it onto his cock. A familiar and unkind penetration pulled you upwards as you were apprehended by his hand to the back of your neck. 

"Skin like silk-" He groaned in the comment to your ass, swatting it crimson. "Red silk. MY red silk!" He corrected before pulling you up to his chest. 

"You know I prefer you in red, but that is the favorite shade, baby...a handprint to your ass while my cock is buried into you on the other side...and you take it so well, don't you?" 

"Yes, for you!" 

"And who are you gonna come for?" 

"You! I'm coming for you, Rafe!" 

"Sweet cum's all for me?" 

"Yes! Oh Fuck!" He whipped you to face him. 

"You know dirty words like that only get you fucked harder..." 

"I know." The front of your dress was dismantled enough to expose your breasts, one hand on your hip to keep you pinned had allowed only one grip at a time as he was quick to accommodate the dinge grasp. Twisting your nipples and pulling the warm weight he knew well, you came closer to that edge. 

"Feels so good baby, gonna have to fill you up soon, have you dripping with ME so they all know my dirty girl, who doesn't wear any panties, needs only me...is taken care of perfectly by me." 

"Yes-" You spoke through clenched teeth. 

"Yeah, that's it baby...bring it back to me...show me you fucking want it-" You worked back to him, his grip loosening to grant the freedom to do this, before he praised you in continuous approval. Not a second would come to pass where his hand or his words hadn't been somewhere in your benefit. 

"Fuck! Rafe! I'm coming!" 

"I'm with you, baby...right fucking...there!" He groaned, a sharp breath sending him over you in a bend as he supplied those final thrusts to cement himself as yours once again. 

"What ARE you going to tell everyone?" You asked as you pulled the skirt of your dress down, trying to iron out the evidence of his touch, before feeling him help with your straps. 

"What do you want me to tell them?" He inquired as you set him back to the bed, a foot on his chest indicating the need to fix what he had interrupted. A cocky chuck of his jaw made you raise a brow as he wrapped the straps of your heels around your ankle before you then sat on his lap, feeling him hard for you once again. 

"Tell them that they can't keep my hands off of you...you take such good care of me Rafe that it's pointless to wear any panties cause you make me come in them anyway-" 

"Jesus, do you even want to try to show up? I have half a mind to use this dress to tie you to our bed...seeing just how strong that fabric is...and our bed…" 

"I look forward to it later, baby..." You motioned for him to zip you, to which he would oblige. 

"But for now, we've gotta at least try to make an appearance." 

"One hour and then your ass is back in this bed." 

"Better than that, forty five minutes and I'll make you come on the way home." You winked as he struggled to stand in the condition you left him, making him more than eager to prove his point later that night…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @sweetestdesire @belcalis9503 @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love

[its-a-ittle-bit-cold]

Dating Jamie Tartt would include…

tw: implied abuse?? implode sex, basically fluff I take requests!

he’s closed off at first

not like closed off like some people think. It’s more like he sleeps around to deflect and distract himself from his trauma

he warms up to you quick though

he loves the different perfumes you use

he loves you complimenting him

he gets a little jealous when you get extra friendly with his teammates 

even before you’re dating

and believe me, you get pissed with him and tell him off

that just makes him fall even harder for you

finally, after Man City, you guys go out for a drink

you talk

eventually you go back to your place and just talk

for hours and hours until morning and he has the courage to ask you to go to coffee with him 

you say yes ofc

I mean, it’s Jamie Tartt

you understand him, probably better than most people

which he finds as unusual

so he leaves and goes to change, take a shower, and then picks you up

your relationship takes off from there

you will find little love notes on your desk, slipped under your door

flowers in your arms after games for him because who cares if it’s not manly

you know when you played you loved getting flowers, at least

he visits you on his off days in your office

the two of you haven’t gone public yet when roy gives Jamie the talk

it’s pretty mellow, lots of “fucks”

but tbh it’s Roy Kent

on your one month anniversary Jamie buys you a stylized j necklace and one of his jerseys

asks you to wear them to the next game

you accept obviously 

your present is a handmade collections of pictures, momentos from your dates, inside jokes, everything

he takes you out to dinner - a really fancy dinner

he almost can’t eat because he keeps getting distracted by how beautiful you look

you walk back to his house, his jacket over your shoulders, right under his arm

you joke and laugh and he’s falling in love with you even more 

“what?” you ask him, laughing.

he kisses your head. “nothin’. you’re just beautiful.”

you head back to his place and spend all night, but let’s just say you don’t get very much sleep

in the morning you set up a spa day before Jamie wakes up and put a face mask on him

it’s a true sign he likes you that he lets you paint his nails, not just the toes, the nails, too

blue with red stripes and yellow cuticles for the game the next day

you pull out your phone and there’s 1500 texts and notifications and surprise, surprise there’s a picture of the two of you

it’s of you last night, Jamie’s lips on your forehead 

after that, the two of you aren’t shy about your relationship

before the game, you get even more interviews than usual

you’re decked out in the box

Keeley and Rebecca give you knowing looks

you tell them to shut up but it’s smiling

and when Jamie runs onto the pitch, you’re cheering the loudest. 

his eyes find you and you wave. He gives you a whole armed waves that is impossible to ignore, his face split into a huge smile.

you match it so he knows that you’re always his biggest fan

[descendantofthesparrow]

Something there - Walter Deville x reader - Oneshot

featuring Chronically ill reader!!! TW! mentions of self harm, death, and blood-drinking. takes place somewhere in the 14-1500s.

=

You let out a slow breath as you stepped into the castle that was known as Carfax Abbey, your grip tight on your lady's maids arm as your parents led the way through the grand hall and into the grand dining room; where the master of the three great families resided for the moment.

Your great-aunt died a few months back, allowing ample time for the master to process the event and select a new bride from the Alexander family. One of which-was you. Behind you were your fellow alexander ‘brides’; all around the same age as you, some just a smidge older. But you were all here for the same reason.

For Master Deville to take his pick of the litter, to pick his new bride of the available girls of the Alexander family. You had only seen him maybe once or twice in your life, unable to go to many of the grand parties he had hosted for the families, or greet him when he came to visit your home. You were different than the others, in a very obvious way. You had been born ill, only able to walk for short periods, constantly short of breath, vision a constant blur, and you were nearly always tired.

Even clutching onto Emma(your lady's maid) was extremely taxing on your body, and you knew you would need to sit down soon. Your parents hoped you would be chosen if only to not see you struggle through your life any longer. They had done their best to make you comfortable, but to see you wheeze, huff, and shake; just to stand, made their hearts ache. They prayed the master would take pity upon their only daughter.

They were told you probably wouldn’t make it to 25, you were barely 23 now, and it was getting harder to wake up as the months went by. They hoped and prayed to whatever god or demons that were listening to give you a chance with the master. They would be happy to grow old and watch you thrive with the master; but first, he would have to choose you.

Of which-today, was the first of several days for the master to make his choice. He wasn’t a man of looks, as you heard from your mother, he preferred for his brides to have something to them; artists, historians, fencers, scientists, writers. Many assumed he would want someone quiet, someone to stand there and look pretty as he stood front and center.

But apparently, that was wrong, his eldest bride-Viktoria, was quite….outspoken, a little bit mean, bloodthirsty, and jealous. You had heard the horror story of when your great aunt was chosen after her great-grandaunt had died, Viktoria had practically tortured her the first few years of the marriage, nearly driving your aunt to madness if the Billington bride hadn’t stepped in.

You just hoped you would be spared of her wrath if you were chosen, but hell-you had heard even those waiting to be picked were bullied by the Klopstock bride.

Your lady's maid had promised to be at your side whenever she could, knowing once the master took you aside to basically interview you, she would be unable to protect you. It only made you feel a bit better.

You blinked back into reality as everyone flooded into the grand dining room, the table pushed to one side with its chairs facing the set of doors that opened into the brilliant gardens that were lovingly tended to by the staff. Emma and your parents quickly shuffled you over to the table, sitting you down and getting you a glass of water.

As you had been ushered in, you had seen a glimpse of the master; standing in the sunlight and surveying every potential bride that came in. His eyes were shrouded by the sun, but you could feel his gaze as you stepped inside, lingering as you were sat down and taken care of.

He studied the dark circles under your eyes, the paleness of your lips, the noticeable flush in your cheeks; he could even smell it, the pain that clung to your bones, the sickness that never truly left you. He felt a small tug in his chest, an ache that told him to talk to you, to listen to you. He ignored it for the moment, knowing he had to examine all the choices before settling on a bride that would hopefully last longer than 100 years.

He waited until the last potential bride stepped in, one he recognized as Carla, and then spoke up “Thank you for coming. All of you, I know for many of you it was quite a journey to travel here” he made eye contact with your parents, your mother's hand resting on your shoulder, your skin freezing against her warm palm. They nodded back, feeling a bit of hope for you from how he seemed to almost speak directly to you and your family.

The master stepped further into the room, his face finally out of the blinding sunlight, revealing his diamond-cut jaw, crystal blue eyes, and soft-looking black hair. You swallowed a bit, noticing some of the other girls doing the same, he truly matched the stories of his beauty.

You leaned towards your lady's maid, whispering in her ear; “He’s so pretty” she giggled, her nose scrunching slightly as the master's eyes flickered over to you, the corner of his lip quirking a bit; a dimple making itself known for a split moment. You felt yourself flush, knowing he had heard your every word thanks to his supernatural hearing.

The master continued to speak, letting the families know all 7 girls would be staying for the week, to give him enough time to make a proper choice among them. Your mother’s hands clutched your shoulder, your father gave you a reassuring look. You had never been apart from them in all your life, your health didn’t allow you to, but you weren't all that worried; you were sure the master would make sure you were taken care of.

While you weren't a bride, you were a part of the Alexander family, and that alone warranted your protection. You just hoped you wouldn’t have a flare-up, the last one kept you bedridden for nearly two months. You were snapped back to reality as the master clapped his hands, a smirk on his handsome face “Now, I’m sure you’re all hungry, brunch is out in the gardens; please, indulge yourselves.” he gestured behind him, and the glass double doors opened, two butlers waiting on either side, each holding one of the doors.

Your fellow Alexander ‘brides’ all chattered with excitement, some giggling as they passed by the master. You huffed, you had just sat down and now you were going outside again. Your parents and lady’s maid let you try to stand up by yourself, always wanting to give you some sort of independence since your permanent illness would make sure you would never truly be independent. After a couple of attempts, you shook your head with a huffed sigh, your legs nearly paralyzed with pain, your father went to hoist you up; only to be stopped by the master

“Allow me,” he said, looking down at you with a silent question for your permission to carry you. You nodded, flushing as he crouched next to your chair and easily lifted you out of it, your arms going around his neck and Emma fixed your dress before the master walked out into the gardens, some of your fellow ‘brides’ looking excited for you(some looking slighted at the master's clear tilt towards you), giggling amongst each other as the master set you into one of the free chairs, your parents soon sitting on either side of you.

The master announced he had some work to finish up in his study, but you all had the rest of the day to get comfortable in the house and he would see everyone at dinner. With that, he left and everyone burst into chatter, some girls swooning over the master while others muttered to themselves, the two nearest two you; Kalista and Serena(two of your favorite cousins in fact) turning to you with teasing grins.

“it seems the master has already taken a shine to you (n/n)~!” Serena laughed, her teasing light-hearted and sweet, chuckling as you flushed and looked down at your plate, Emma already in the midst of fetching your food. “Quite” Kalista hummed, accepting her plate of food from one of the butlers and grabbing a strawberry “I’ve heard the master does take a bit to warm up to new brides, and yet it seems you’ve caught his eye already. And you’re the one he hasn’t seen in a very long time”

You hummed in agreement; you could account the master's interest in you to you really never being around when he was. Again; thanks to your illness. You could recall maybe two times you were in the same room, once when you were very young and attending your Aunts wedding(your mother's sister, not your great-aunt), you had been the flower girl and spotted the master in the shadows; and just like today, you had thought he was very pretty.

You could recall telling him that as well, beaming up at him with your front tooth missing as he looked a bit flustered at the bluntness and then smiled down at you, almost looking thrown off at you.  “uh, thank you?” he nearly stuttered, as if he was unsure how to respond to such a genuine compliment, likely one he hadn't received in years. You told him he was welcome, and stumbled back off to rejoin the festivities, and only 10 minutes later you were tucked away in a quiet corner, dragged down by sudden fatigue, pain bolting up your legs, and the lack of air entering your lungs.

To this day you swore you heard the master hum down at you, and lay his jacket across your smaller body, the shivers that wracked it slowly stopping as he walked away.

You smiled at the faded memory, by the time you were conscious; the jacket was gone and you were back in your bed, the fire alight in the corner of your room and a bed warmer lay beneath your sheets. But you remembered what it smelled like; faded metal and a grand forest.

You perked up as Emma set a plate in front of you, decorated with fresh fruit, French toast, and eggs. You hummed, rubbing your hands together, huffing as you realized your hands were cold-they were always cold, no matter the weather. As you began to eat, you felt a pair of eyes on the back of your head, you turned just enough see into the castle, seeing the master looking right back down at you from his upstairs study.

He almost looked surprised to see you looking back at him, biting the inside of his cheek as you carefully waved to him with a shy smile. he waved back, just as shy-then seemed to realize he was doing it and turned away, disappearing from the window; likely going back to work.

You hummed to yourself, turning back to your food and digging back in, listening to the conversations around you, some talking about the master, some talking about what they would do if they were chosen, and some talking about how to get the masters approval and become the ~Alexander Bride~.

You had a feeling they wouldn’t be chosen no matter what they did, some of their-plans-sounded very…pushy, and most likely the master could hear them from his study, and had already crossed them off his list.

Then again, he did marry Viktoria.

-

You cursed whoever put you in the upstairs room, one that particularly sat all the way in the back of the halls, leaving you nearly isolated from anyone and the furthest away from the stairs-which were the bane of your existence. “Great, just great” you muttered to yourself as you clung to the wall, attempting to get back to your room after going to the bathroom, huffing and wincing as a raging headache made itself known, along with the usual pain going up your legs.

You could feel your lungs ache with the effort to keep working, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to make it to dinner that night. “lady (y/n)!” you turned, seeing the lady's maid for the Alexander brides, Mrs. Swift, rushing up to your side, her brown hair streaked with grey and pulled back into a bun “oh dear-here, let me help! Oh why they put you all the way in the back will never make sense-come’ come” you smiled and thanked her, shaking your head as she told you it was her job to do so.

“Still, you’re going out of your way, you probably have many things to do” you mumbled, leaning heavily into Mrs. Swift as she practically carried you back to your room, setting you on the bed as soon as you arrived. You went to take off your shoes but Mrs. Swift quickly attended to that before you could even lean down, and you huffed slightly-Emma always let you take care of that, again-just to give you that bit of independence.

"Thank you,” you told Mrs. Swift anyway, smiling at her as she set your shoes by the bed. You looked out the window, seeing the sun was beginning to set “um-could-could you tell” you fiddled with your fingers, biting the inside of your lip, glancing down as Mrs. Swift turned to you “Could you tell the master, I won't be able to make it to dinner? I can hardly walk on my own and Emma was excused for the rest of the day, and-and I don’t wish to be a burden on anyone”

Mrs. Swift frowned, clearly about to say you weren’t a burden when you suddenly felt a presence at the door and you turned, freezing as you saw the master, looking back at you with those ocean eyes of his. “Nonsense” the master huffed, frowning a bit as he stepped further into the room “you shouldn’t be left out, you deserve to be at dinner; just as everyone else will be.” you swallowed harshly, curling in on yourself; preparing to slightly back talk to the master.

“well-i-I can't walk on my own right now, it hurts to” the master looked very concerned at that “and-everything is flaring up-i-I’m afraid I would just be holding everyone back” you ended in a whisper, knowing he could hear every word. The master just shook his head again, turning to Mrs. Swift and speaking in a tone that clearly meant you couldn’t convince him to leave you out for the night.

“Get her ready by dinner time, and then come get me-I’ll escort Ms. (y/n) to dinner myself” you were about to object, about to say he didn’t have to do that for you-that you didn’t want to be a burden, but he just stared you down. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. So you just sighed and nodded, pouting a bit as he nodded back with a smirk and walked out of the room; leaving you with flushed cheeks and…a surprised Mrs. Swift.

“Well that’s a first” she muttered, shaking her head as you asked her what she meant. “nothing my dear, now, let’s select your dress for tonight, something lightweight hm?”

-

You kinda wished your parents were staying the week with you, but alas-they weren’t, such was the same for the rest of the girls, parents came to drop them off-ate brunch, and then they were off, leaving their daughters behind with their maids and the master; hoping for the best.

You could really use a dad hug right about now, nervously sitting at the foot of your bed, dressed in a light cotton gown that was sinched gently to your waist, the emerald green of the tunic dress complimenting the deep brown of your boots.

You played with your fingers as the flickering light of the fireplace danced across your face, the sun having been set a few minutes ago; Mrs. Swift having left to get the master around the same time. You sat up with flushed cheeks as someone knocked on your door. You told them to come in, looking down as the master walked in, looking quite nice in a deep red flowing shirt, a vest overtop it with a long vest like-jacket overtop that, with dark trousers and leather boots.

“you look lovely, Ms. (y/n), are you ready for dinner?” the master complimented, then asked, a smile on his lips as you nodded, allowing him to wander over and pick you up, your legs feeling like pins as you attempted to move them to get situated in his arms. You sighed at the feeling, knowing you had pushed your body too far today and would be either bedridden for the next few days, or carried everywhere.

If the master was the one to carry you though, you weren’t sure if that was such a bad thing. You huffed at the thought, forcing it away as the master walked out of your room, Mrs. Swift closing the door behind him and following him to the grand dining room, where it was set up for a grand dinner, a two wonderfully cooked hogs set in the middle of the table, ready to be carved and served.

“Smells wonderful” you muttered, tucking your chin into your chest as the master chuckled, his voice vibrating in your ear. He set you down near the head of the table and went to talk with his butler, Mr. Fields if you remembered correctly; after a few moments he walked back over to you and told you that everyone would be down soon, he didn’t want to make you a spectacle by arriving last with you.

You smiled, thanking him quietly, you really didn’t like being made the center of attention; especially when it related to something you couldn’t control. Soon the rest of the girls came flooding into the dining room, Serena and Kalista quickly sitting on either side of you, giving you knowing(teasing) grins as you sank into your seat; feeling your ears and cheeks heat up as the master went to stand at the head of the table, only two chairs down.

As soon as everyone was sat, the master clapped his hands together, his gaze running across the 7 girls, all hoping to be chosen to be the Alexander bride. “once again, I thank you all for coming. As you all know, Lady Marian Alexader, passed a few months ago; and as per the contract your ancestors made so many moons ago-I am in need of a new Alexander bride.” The girls all glanced amongst each other, giggling at the prospect of being his bride, but you kept your eyes on him, and he looked back; furrowing his brows as he heard a slight wheeze as you breathed. “of which, over the next week, I will make my selection. Do not be afraid to show who you truly are and what your passions are, I will make my choice this next Monday, eight days after today.”

One day for each potential bride to make their ‘argument’ to the master. There were 7 of you, and starting tomorrow, he would begin his…well, his interviews with each girl. You hoped your current flare-up wouldn’t develop into something more. You sighed to yourself, knowing you probably just jinxed yourself. You jumped slightly, doing your best to cover your surprised cough in your elbow as the Master clapped his hands again.

Serena patted your back, giving you a comforting smile as you looked at her bashfully, knowing you had drawn attention to yourself by coughing in the middle of the master's speech. Some girls-who didn’t know of your many illnesses- glared at you, while the others just gave you smiles like Serena, quietly telling you it was okay and you weren’t embarrassing yourself or them.

The master had looked at you for a long moment, furrowing his brows as he heard your breath continue to wheeze and struggle-just like it had upon your arrival. He cleared his throat quietly, looking back towards the other girls “tonight, we dine together, tomorrow, I dine with one of you-as shall I dine with each of you on each night.” He held out his hands towards the feast laid on the table, the first of many meals of the week “please, eat.”

With that, the table burst into chatter, butlers and maids moving forward to help the girls fill their plates; you were distracted attempting to get some air back in your lungs-not wanting to deal with an asthma attack right now. You smiled as Serena set a few slices of the roasted hog on your plate, along with your favorite sides; smiling brightly as you thanked her.

“Honestly I’m surprised you remembered which part of the hog I liked” you muttered to her, laughing as she gave you a very sister-like ‘duh’ look. “And why would I forget? It’s the part I don’t like” she giggled, stealing one of your roasted carrots and popping it in her mouth, laughing as you sneakily tossed a dried cranberry at her.

While you feasted, you glanced back at the master, seeing his plate only having meat and stuffing, his cup filled with a wine that smelled-different than any you had before. You ignored it, knowing what the master was. A demon-many called him; by those outside the village the castle rested over, but to the families, he was near a savior, one who had protected them from war and famine over the last few centuries. It would make sense for him to have only meat and ‘wine’ as his meal, you never thought vampires would be interested in vegetables or fruits.

By the end of dinner, everyone was sated and antsy for the events to come, glancing between the master and their almost empty plates; wondering what would happen after dessert was served. Which-was about now, a tray full of pastries, tarts, and pies being carried into the room, the girls making their selection of the spread.

Your eyes locked onto the custard pie. Walter caught your gaze and gestured for it to be set on your plate before anyone else could snatch it. Carla looked a bit disappointed but didn’t speak of her loss, happily taking a blueberry tart instead.

You hummed happily as you took a bite of the custard pie, dancing in your seat slightly as the table burst into chatter again, feeling eyes on you as you ate. You looked towards the feeling, seeing the master looking at you over his chalice, his brow perked with interest. You felt your cheeks flush and you looked back down at your plate, puffing your cheeks as Kalista gave you a teasing smirk.

Soon the master announced that you all had the rest of the night free and were free to explore the castle, but you were all warned to avoid the north wing as that was where his other two brides were(along with the currently unoccupied Alexader suite), and he wanted to avoid any…events. You knew he meant the Klopstock bride, Viktoria, you had met the current Billington bride once, when you were younger, and she was quite nice.

Everyone nodded and soon dispersed, leaving you alone at the table with the master and Serena “Do you need help up to your room?” Serena asked, pushing in her chair and pulling yours out, fully willing to carry you back up to your room.

You hummed, nodding slightly, your legs still felt like pins, and it would be agony to walk. Serena nodded back, about to help you stand when the master stepped next to your chair “Allow me, please” he said with a smile, bowing his head as Serena skipped back with a grin directed down at you. “Of course Lord Deville, goodnight (y/n)~” she sang, skipping off to join Kalista in exploring the castle.

You huffed at her, turning back to the master with a rapidly beating heart, clearing your throat in an attempt to get rid of the wheeze coming from your chest. “May I?” he asked again, his arms reaching towards you. “you may” you whispered back, lifting your arms to wrap around his shoulders as his hands curled around your back and knees, easily lifting you and carrying you back to your room, gently setting you back on your bed and stepping back as you got comfortable.

“If you need anything, just call out, there's always someone awake around here.” the master said with a polite bow of his head, smiling softly as you thanked him and waited till he left; letting out a shuddering sigh as his footsteps receded from your room. “oh-my-god” you muttered, patting your heated cheeks.

Nearly for the entirety of dinner-the master had been staring at you. You could count on one hand the times he looked away, but-gods-for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t feel like you were being stared at like an oddity, but out of pure interest. You really count recall the last time you had been looked at like that, other than by your close family or your best friend Grace.

You took a deep breath to regain your senses, shaking your head “Probably heard you wheezing the entire dinner” you grumbled, reaching behind your back and undoing the strings of your dress, slowly and carefully getting undressed; sighing in relief when you were down to your undergarments, that dress was one of your lightest and easiest to wear for your bad days-but still-it was quite tight around the waist area.

“Ms?” you heard Mrs. Swift call out from the other side of the door “Do you need any assistance getting ready for bed?” you looked around, and then down at yourself…yeah-you couldn’t feel your legs and you really didn’t want to sleep in your underwear. “yes please” you called back, sitting up straight as Mrs. Swift stepped in and got straight to work, helping you get changed and setting your dress and undergarments in their proper places.

“Is there anything else you’ll be needing ma’am?” Mrs. Swift asked, her hands clasped in front of her. You nodded slightly, pointing at the fireplace a few feet away from the window and your bed “yes, could-could you possibly have that lit up? I know it was on a few hours ago but” you paused, playing with your fingers “heat helps the flare-ups” Mrs. Swift nodded with a smile and hurried off to gather what she needed to make the fire.

As Mrs. Swift tended to that, you got comfortable in bed, already falling asleep by the time she returned.  She made sure the fire was safe, set your blankets right, and quietly made her way out of your room, jumping slightly as she saw the master just down the hall-his head tilted slightly at your door. “She’s settled for the night master Deville” Mrs. Swift whispered, knowing he could easily hear every word. “She’s as comfortable as she can be”

The master let out a low hum, his eyes trained on your bedroom door. “Good, make sure she is for the rest of her stay” the master muttered, turning on his heel to attend to his duties before he turned in for the night. Mrs. Swift nodded-and returned to her duties, checking up on you every once in a while.

-

The next day was quiet-the master had breakfast with his potential bride of choosing-as he would do for the rest of you; and spent nearly the entire day with her. At one point you adventured off to the library(with Emma and Serena’s help of course), finding the two sitting by the grand window, enjoying a quiet lunch together.

You caught the master's eye when you were on your way out, a thin and well-read book in your hands. The master glanced down at the book and looked pleasantly surprised, a smile crinkling at his eyes-but his attention was diverted back to his present ‘date’ nodding along to the woman's quiet words.

You continued to catch the master's eyes throughout the day, when you were having afternoon tea with Serena and Kalista-seeing him wander in the gardens with his current date, Emmalie-you thought her name was, his eyes looking up to see you, and staying there for a moment before his attention was once again brought back to Emmalie.

Later-you were out in the gardens, giving Emma a chance to rest after practically carrying you around all day(you didn’t want to stay cooped up all week) resting under the shade of a tree, when you felt eyes on you. You looked up, seeing the master looking at you, curiously. You smiled back, waving a bit before going back to the book you had procured from the library.

You heard him walk over to you, his form joining you in the shade “Now that’s a book I haven’t seen in a while, at least to be read by anyone else than I” the master hummed, his head tilted down at you, his eyes almost shining in the shade. You hummed back, carefully folding your finger between the page you had landed on and the cover-closing the book and looking up at the master.

“Well-its one my great aunt, Marian, read to me when I was a babe, I do remember enjoying it, and I very much still do” the master looked pleased, a spark in his eye that wasn’t there a moment before, and hadn’t been there all day oddly enough. “Good, good” the master muttered, glancing over his shoulder “that is one of my favorites as well, a first edition actually-one of the first few prints the author made” you gasped, unable to help the grin on your face as you held the book closer to your chest-a sight that made the master’s shoulders drop a bit, a crinkle coming to his eye.

“That’s amazing” you whispered, looking back down at the book, gently caressing the fine cover. You didn’t see the soft gaze the master was looking down on you with, tilting his head at you curiously. His attention was once again diverted to his date for the day, she was walking out of the manor-clearly looking for him. “well, I have to go” the master muttered, righting his shirt collar-looking down at you again with a smile “I look forward to our day together” you smiled up at him and nodded, telling him the same, watching as he walked away and greeting Emmalie with his arm-leading her off towards the stables.

You hummed, opening the book again and continuing to read-wondering what the master had in store for your ‘date’ day.

-

The next day you were in bed all day, resting your legs from the last two days, they felt almost numb-yet you felt nothing but pain when you tried to move them. So you settled for reading the book you had procured the day before and regaining your strength, thanking whatever gods were listening for not afflicting you with any illness, those always made you feel like you had been run over by an ox.

When Emma came by to make sure you were comfortable and give you dinner, she giggled a bit as she corrected your blankets “What’s so funny?” you asked her, licking your lips free of sauce as you set down a piece of ham. “Nothing nothing” she hummed, looking back at you with a cheeky grin as she checked the fire “just the master was asking about you~”

You felt your cheeks flush, but convinced yourself and Emma that he was being a good host, it was his right to wonder about the whereabouts of one of his guests. “uhuh, keep telling yourself that my lady, but he did seem very concerned, reminded me of your mother when you have a flare-up” she teased, remembering the furrow of the master's brow when he asked where you had been all day-he hadn’t seen you once, unlike the day before.

When she told him you had been bedridden due to your legs, he only looked more worried, only relaxing when she told him you had gone through this exact situation before and had healed within a day or two with proper rest. You attempted to reach out and smack Emma for telling you such lies-huffing as she skipped out of your reach and took your empty cup, going out to get you a refill.

You sighed, leaning back against your pillows, wincing as you pulled up your legs-shocks of pain going up your thighs and surrounding your knees. You froze as someone knocked on your door-couldn’t have been Emma, she had just left- you called for them to come in, feeling your face flush as the master stepped in, leaving the door open behind him as he took you in.

“Good evening,” the master said, his hands placed behind his back, rocking forward for a moment before he stood straight again “I just, wanted to see how you were doing. I hadn’t seen you all day, your lady’s maid-Emma” he quickly said her name as you narrowed your eyes, she had become family in the last five years she had served you, you saw no point to call her by her title. “Said you were bed-ridden. I just-wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You smiled, tilting your head just so-the master almost mimicked you with the motion “I’ll be fine. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before; just need a few days to let my legs rest.” The master looked deep in thought at your words, his eyes turning down to the book in your hands. “Thank you, for checking on me” The master seemed to snap back into reality, nodding at your words.

“Yes, of course. Would-“ he cleared his throat, pointing at the book, your bookmark having made its place at the end for the 4th time now. “would you like to read something else? I have a few suggestions if you would like?” you beamed, nodding; you would love to read anything from his library-especially since you seemed to have similar tastes in literature.

The master nodded, taking a quick step back “I’ll be right back then” with that, he stepped out of your room and closed the door behind him, his steps quickly fading away from your room-it almost sounded like he was running to get to his library. You giggled to yourself, happily admitting to yourself that his current attitude was very-cute.

Emma was the first to return, setting your refilled cup on the nightstand next to your bed and bowing out as you told her to enjoy the rest of her night “I’ll check up on you in a little bit my lady, goodnight” Emma hummed, closing the door behind her. You grabbed your cup, sipping at it while you finished re-reading the book you had borrowed from the masters library, perking up as his now familiar knock echoed from your door. “Come in” you called, smiling as the master pushed open the door, a small stack of books in his hand. You beamed at the sight, and here you thought he would only get you one.

“I couldn’t just pick one” he chuckled, seeming a bit shy as he walked over to your side and set the books down next to your bed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood tall. “but you should enjoy these, they’re similar to that one” he pointed down at the book in your hands. You hummed, closing the one you had just finished again and setting it aside-picking up the top book from the new stack.

“Thank you, lord Deville; you really didn’t have to do this for me” you hummed, smiling as he shrugged, his hands going behind his back as he leaned forward a bit then stood straight-something you noticed he did when was thinking. “You can just call me Walter, or Walt.” The master-Walter-muttered, almost seeming shy in the way he said it. You giggled a bit, tilting your head “Do the other girls get that privilege?” you teased, feeling a bit brave. Walter just grinned back. “No” and with that, he bowed out, leaving you flustered.

“He did that on purpose.” You muttered to yourself, burying your now very warm face into your new book.

-

The next few days were about the same as before, you were practically stuck in your room; Emma and Mrs. Swift going in and out to make sure you were comfortable, with some visits from Serena and Kalista, the two soon telling you about their days with the master. Upon the seventh day of the week, you were finally up and around-of course having Emma with you so you didn’t hurt yourself. You quickly got dressed upon waking up that fresh spring morning, and then soon found your way outside, basking in the glow of the warm sun.

You felt compelled to take a nap, the grass underneath you so soft and the sun like a wonderful blanket. But you had only woken up a few hours ago-it wasn’t even nine yet-so you settled for reading one of the last few books Walter had given you, leaning against a large tree as a breeze brushed through your hair.

“There you are,” you looked up, seeing Walter walking towards you, a basket in one hand and a blanket in the other, wearing a soft blue tunic over a greyish top. “Feeling better?” you nodded, stretching your legs out to show him. “Good, hungry?” you nodded again, setting aside your book as Walter got down on the ground next to you and set down the basket-full of breakfast foods-and flared out the blanket.

“A picnic?” you hummed, adjusting yourself to sit on the blanket, leaning on your hand as Walter did the same and began to sift through the basket. “I thought it appropriate since you’ve been stuck inside since the third day, question” Walter perked up, suddenly remembering something, looking at you as he handed you a slice of warmed brown bread.

You hummed, biting into it; nodding for him to ask away “Can you ride a horse?” you laughed, bright and slightly surprised at the question but it was valid, you could only walk for short amounts of time, horse riding took a lot of leg strength, but yes-you could ride. Your horse at home was trained to allow you to ride with minimal use of your legs.

“Yes, yes I can.” You giggled, patting Walter’s knee as he flushed a bit, probably thinking the question was a bit personal or pushy. “I love riding actually” Walter looked relieved at that, taking a small breath as you dug into the breakfast he had unfolded, his eyes looming over to the book you had read about halfway through now.

“How are you liking that one?” Walter asked, pointing at the book, chewing on a piece of bread as you picked the aforementioned item up and shook it about, beaming all the while. “I think it’s wonderful; thank you for suggesting it.” Walter smiled, nodding a bit. “You’re welcome, it’s one of my favorites, I have yet to meet its equal.”

You nodded; you could easily say the same. It was a daring tale of true love and adventure, with a dash of sword fighting and humor to put the cherry on top.

The rest of your morning was filled with quiet talking, mostly about the books you had read over the last few days while being bed-ridden, and you asked if there were any more books he would suggest for you to read before you went back home(even if you were chosen, you would return home for a few months to gather your things and get ready for the wedding). He hummed, rubbing his chin. “I do, most if not all the books I gave you so far are from my personal collection, and I do have a wide arrange of books.” Walter chuckled, leaning back on his palm, smiling as you laughed, happy to know that.

“Would you be willing to let me into that collection and take a pick? You have very good taste and I would love to read more” you asked, leaning towards him and nearly squealing as he nodded, tilting his head just so as you silently celebrated. “We can go after we finish up here if you’d like? If you feel up to it” Walter suggested, grinning as you nodded and began to clean up the mess you and Walter had made during breakfast “I’ll get it darling” you froze as the pet name slipped from Walter’s lips, a name he either didn’t realize or care he called you, quickly cleaning up the blanket and putting the leftovers back inside the basket-helping you stand and curling his arm around your waist as you practically rushed him back inside-eager to see the library again.

He chuckled at that, easily holding you to his side as you ventured to the library, soon guiding you to a quiet corner that was brightly lit with a large chair in the corner, hidden from the rest of the library. There was only one bookshelf, filled with books-there were some spaces but you guessed those were the books Walter had already taken out to give you.

You selected two more, carefully watching Walter’s reaction as you did so-happily taking two mid-sized books that his eyes nearly sparked at. Soon you found yourself outside again, under the shade of a large tree, your legs tossed over Walter’s lap as he rested against the trunk, his eyes nearly closed as you read aloud from the book you had been reading before his arrival.

“The Sicilian returned to the other side of the boat. “She would have screamed,” he said. “She was about to cry out. My plan was ideal as all my plans are ideal. It was the moon's ill timing that robbed me of perfection” he scowled unforgivingly at the yellow wedge above them. Then he stared ahead. “There!” the Sicilian pointed. “The cliffs of insanity.” You giggled as you finished the paragraph, this character certainly was a bit daft-no matter how much ‘thought’ he put into his plans or ego he put into his brain.

Walter smiled at the sound, a sound he would like to hear more often. He opened his eyes, looking at you, your eyes glued to the leather-bound book that was decorated with painted gold, your fingers carefully trailing the words on the well-read page.

You continued to read, and Walter let his eyes fall shut again, one of his hands finding your knee that rested across his lap-enjoying your voice as you read one of his favorite books. Many thought his choice of books would be poetry, dramas, tragedies; things similar to that, but he liked adventure-books filled with passion and knowledge beyond his own. And it now was obvious you liked the same, happily reading anything he suggested-you had even picked out another one of his favorites upon your first visit to his library.

His current brides-Viktoria Klopstock, and Vasilica Billington-didn’t find such joy in reading like he did-it was how he escaped the word as a child and teen, so to finally share that with someone…was a bit…relieving, if he must say. He never quite connected to them as a husband should, he honestly never expected to, their marriages were out of convenience and due to the arrangement the three families had made near 200 years ago now.

But he had a feeling-you would be different. Out of the several potential brides that had come to make their deference, you were the only one to catch his eye, and keep it through the week-like that first day, he had almost been unable to focus on his date with Emmalie in favor of watching you.

Walter sniffed, sitting up against the tree trunk, opening his eyes as your legs moved to slide off his lap, watching as you joined him on the trunk and got comfortable. “That position was starting to hurt” you whispered and Walter hummed, holding back a frown. You had been sitting up with your legs across his lap-maybe for only a few minutes-it shouldn’t hurt you to sit like that.

Soon enough, as you continued to read, your shoulder ended up against his, leaning on him as you dove into the tale the book offered you. Walter licked his lips, a question burning at his lips-and he decided to just go for it. “So-” he started, clearing his throat as his voice cracked ever so slightly, you laughed lightly at the sound, turning him with a raised brow “How long have you been affected by all” he gestured to you and then the air-looking unsure of how to word anything. “this?”

You closed the book, leaning forward slightly and looking up to the cloudy sky, the sun still blanketing the grounds with its warmth. “…I don’t remember a day I wasn’t sick” you whispered, which reached Walter’s ear easily. He frowned, tilting his head slightly “you mean, you’ve always had problems with your health?” he asked, just to clarify. You nodded; your leg issues had come later in life-but only due to you not using them as much as you should’ve in your developmental years. But your breathing and basic health had always been weak.

“When I was a child, sometimes the slightest thing would cause me to be Ill for weeks on end, I don’t really remember a time I wasn’t sick.” You muttered, laying your legs flat and huffing, feeling your lungs wheeze with the effort to keep them full of air. “I haven't run since I was five, by that time I could never get enough air to pace myself and my legs were already starting to go awry.”

Walter stared at you, his unbeating heart hurting for you. He knew he could help-if he chose you, if you accepted his proposal-just one drop of his blood would give you the life you had missed out on, your lungs would no longer need air, and your legs would feel brand new. You shook your head, laughing a bit “listen to me, rambling away about my problems. I shouldn’t.”

“I asked” Walter pushed, reaching up and tucking a stray hair behind your ear, smiling softly as you glanced at him. He looked away first, licking his lips and leaning forward a bit before he asked another question “What would you do? If you were chosen? And became one of us?” you blinked, twice, three times, then sighed, a wistful smile on your face.

“I would run as fast as I could” that’s what you really wanted to do. To run, to feel the wind in your hair, your arms pumping at your sides as your feet hit the ground-with no worry that you would be in so much pain the next hour. You said as such to Walter, who stared at you with eyes that were growing softer by the minute. For a moment, you almost thought it was pity-you had seen it all your life-but it wasn’t; you couldn't tell what it was, not yet.

“Good answer” Walter whispered, looking up at the sun and nodding to himself, standing and holding out his hand to you “shall we have some lunch?” you nodded, feeling just a bit lighter getting that not-so-deep secret off your chest-taking his hand and letting him help you up-leaning into his side as he guided you towards the stables.

“Where are we going?” you asked, sitting down as Walter got out a set of horses, one deep black and the other a russet brown. Walter helped you onto the brown one, apparently named Belle. “There's a lake a few miles away from here, I set up another picnic for us there” he patted the basket resting on his horse’s saddle-presumably filled with the picnic he mentioned. “it's quite beautiful at night as well, you can see everything”

You smiled, tilting your head a bit “Another picnic?....I don’t think I’ve spent a night outside in quite a while, me and cold don’t really mix well” Walter paused, shit he hadn’t thought of that. “I’ll make sure to keep you warm then.” he said in response, mentally thanking his past self for packing extra blankets and for there being a fire pit close to where he had planned the picnic. You laughed at his words, flushing a bit “Are you flirting?”

“Why, is it working?” Walter teased, smiling as you giggled, he climbed into his horse and grabbed the reins, turning to look at you over his shoulder “Come along now, before the food gets cold” you hummed, snapping the reins of your horse and it followed Walter. You admired the forest you rode through as Walter led you to the lake on a well-taken path, and soon you arrived at the lake-the sun beaming down on its still surface-the forest surrounding it evergreen and lush, at a small curve-sat a picnic-resting just near a firepit, along with a few books.

“More books?” you gasped, laughing as Walter just shrugged “hey, I like to read just as you.” He shot back, a smile on his lips as you continued to laugh loudly-dropping as you suddenly wheezed and coughed, Belle stopping in her tracks as you doubled over. Walter quickly dismounted, rushing over to you and getting you off of Belle before you fell, a panic in his eyes as you pressed your hand to your chest and struggled to breathe.

“What-what do I do?” Walter nearly yelped, feeling so foolish for not asking Emma how to help you through a breathing attack-and for going so far out from help. You just grabbed his hand, scrunching your nose for a moment as you attempted to regain control of your breathing. The horses rumbled nervously, Belle taking several steps away as Walter held you tight to his chest.

In the minutes that passed-which felt like several panic-filled hours to Walter-you took several deep controlled breaths, closing your eyes as you let yourself fall into Walter’s arms, feeling suddenly very exhausted from the attack. “Did I do that?” Walter asked as everything calmed down. You shook your head, patting his arm as he walked you over to the blanket.

“They come on randomly sometimes-that wasn’t the worst I’ve had-but when I laugh hard-It can cause one, so-I try to control myself usually” you muttered, and Walter felt guilty at being the reason for your laughter. You smiled up at him “Please don’t” you could see the guilt in his eyes and stiff body “it’s not your fault” you tugged him down to sit with you, leaning on his shoulder “I could feel it coming on anyways, this time It just had a trigger.” Walter hummed, looking out onto the lake, drumming his fingers against the blanket.

When he remembered the food, he left your side for a moment, tying the horses to a tree that rested near the lake-letting them rest and get some water, soon returning with the food and the book you had been reading earlier-though this time, he let you eat as he continued where you left off, his voice soothing as you settled down.

“Will you promise not to hurt him” Buttercup whispered. “What was that?” The prince said. “what was that?” Westley said. Buttercup took a step forward and said; “if we surrender, freely and without struggle, if life returns to what it was one dusk ago, will you swear not to hurt this man?” Prince Humperdinck raised his right hand: “I swear on the grave of my soon-to-be-dead father and the soul of my already dead mother that I shall not hurt this man, and if I do, may I not hurt again though I live a thousand years.” Buttercup turned to Westley. “There,” she said “you can’t ask for more than that, and that is the truth”

“The truth,” said Westley, “is that you would rather live with your prince than die with your love.” “I would rather live than die, I admit it” “We were talking about love, madam” There was a long pause. Then buttercup said it: “I can live without love”

There was a sound of pain from beside Walter, and he looked to it, seeing you lying next to him-looking back up with shocked eyes. “She rejects him? after all he did for her?” you asked, having never read this story before. Walter hummed, nodding slightly “She does, I admit when I first read it-I nearly threw the book” Walter chuckled, flipping to the next page-seeing it was the end of the current chapter. “but things get better, I assure you”

You hummed, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall back to that space between sleep and life, Walter’s body heat and the fire he lit as the sun began to dim keeping you warm. Soon a blanket joined you, and Walter continued to read, his hand finding the small of your back as you curled up next to him-enjoying his voice and the tale.

Walter looked up as he noticed the painted skies turning pink that blended with blue and orange. He glanced down beside him, you were asleep-your hand clutching the blanket that covered you-your face shadowed by the flickering fire that kept you warm. He marked his spot on the book and set it to the side, brushing your hair away from your face and whispering he would be back.

Within the blink of an eye, he was gone-and only two blinks later-he returned, with a new basket of food. He set out the meal he had prepared by his personal cook and shook you gently, leaning back on his heels as you slowly woke up, a slow wheezing breath escaping your lips. “Oh,” you whispered, rubbing your eyes as you sat up, seeing the steaming food that sat on the blanket “thank you”

Walter hummed, working on a piece of lamb as you grabbed some bread and meat-about to grab the book again when Walter beat you to it, winking as he opened it when he left off and continued to read, adjusting himself as you leaned against him, reading alongside him as you ate.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Inigo said. “Get his mouth as wide open as you can and tilt his head back a little and we’ll drop it in and see.” Fezzik worked at the dead man’s mouth a while, got it the way Inigo said, tilted the neck perfect the first time, and Inigo knelt directly above the cavity, dropped the pill down, and as it hit the throat he heard, “Couldn’t be me alone, you dastards; well, I beat you each apart, I’ll beat you both together.” “you’re alive!” Fezzik cried. The man in black sat immobile, like a ventriloquist’s dummy, just his mouth moving. “that is perhaps the most childishly obvious remark I have ever come across, but what can you expect from a strangler. Why won't my arms move?”

“You’ve been dead,” Inigo explained. “And we’re not strangling you,” Fezzik explained, “we were just getting the pill down” “the resurrection pill,” Inigo explained “I bought it from miracle max and it works for sixty minutes” “what happens after sixty minutes? Do I die again? (it wasn’t sixty minutes; he just thought it was. Actually, it was forty; only they had used up one already in conversation, so it was down to thirty-nine.)”

“We don’t know. Probably you just collapse and need tending for a year or however long it takes to get your strength back” “I wish I could remember what it was like when I was dead,” the man in black said. “I’d write it down. I could make a fortune on a book like that. I can't move my legs either” “that will come. It’s suppose to. Max said the tongue and the brain were shoo-ins and probably you’ll be able to move, but slowly.” “the last thing I remember was dying, so I am I on this wall? Are we enemies? Have you got names? I’m the dread pirate Roberts, but you can call me ‘Westly’.”

“Fezzik.” “Inigo Montoya of Spain. Let me tell you what's going on-“ he stopped and shook his head “No’ he said, “there's too much, it would take too long, let me distill it for you; the wedding is at six, which leaves us probably now something over half an hour to get in, steal the girl, and get out; but not before I kill count Rugen.”

“What are our liabilities” “there is but one working castle gate and it is guarded by perhaps a hundred men” “hmmm,” Westly said, not as unhappy as he might have been ordinarily because just then he began to be able to wiggle his toes.”

As Walter read on, the night crawled forward-the stars and moon illuminating the lake. At some point, he found himself lying next to you, the still strong fire -which he had made sure to keep attending to- guiding his eyes to the words on the page, his voice lulling you back to sleep, and for the first time in a long time-you slept under the stars.

Walter looked up at some point, seeing the crescent moon high above-the stars decorating the inky sky around it. He reached towards you gently, shaking you awake “Darling wake up,” he whispered, nodding towards the sky “look” you mumbled for a moment, wondering what he wanted when you saw it; in the sky-were the stars of course- but along that was a paint streak of glowing white and purples, mixing with the stars above and swirling about in the sky.

Walter chuckled at your reaction, bringing you close as you both sat up, his cheek against yours-the warmth of the fire on his skin melting into yours, his arm supporting your back. “one of my favorite times of the night, when the milky way is visible” Walter whispered, barely audible to your ears-but you smiled at his words, following his hand as he pointed out constellations in the sky-you had loved the night since you were child-unable to see it unless it was summer…and even then.

Walter got up for a moment to tend to the fire and soon was settled next to you again, this time his arm was wrapped fully around you, his body, the fire, and the blanket keeping you perfectly warm-though your legs had gone numb a bit ago. “I have a question for you” Walter whispered, and you hummed, leaning into his shoulder as you looked up at the stars. “What is it you want with your life?”

You snorted, turning to him slightly “Going there huh?” Walter hummed, glancing off to the side, a smile on his lips “mm, never mastered small talk” you snorted again, you had noticed-most of your conversations had involved books or delving deeper into yourselves. You licked your lips as you thought of your answer-but…all you could think of was-what you wouldn’t be able to do.

“I…I really never thought of how to answer that…” you muttered, eyes down casting to the lake-staring at the reflection of the moon and stars. Walter turned his head to look at you, watching you intently as you played with your fingers “I’ve been told since I was young that I wouldn’t have a full life, even knowing that we have tripled lives thanks to the contract” Walter hummed, but didn’t interrupt, letting you talk. “so, I suppose I never-thought of what to do…since-it wouldn’t matter in the end-I would be dead before I could do anything. But-“ you huffed, looking back up at the sky, feeling your nose burn and throat ache.

“if-if I could; I would read all there is to read, I would study the stars, I would run through forests, dance till I dropped, laugh in the rain knowing it wouldn’t get me deathly ill-I would live life to its fullest-enjoy every passing moment as if it was my last-which I do try to do but…” you sighed, a tear slipping past your cheek “When you’re reminded every day that, by your own body, that you won't live much longer-that you won’t walk that day, or won't talk-or sleep soundly, or even breathe…it’s hard to do that….you know” you bit your lip, bearing your soul to Walter. “it’s getting harder to wake up now-adays…” Walter jolted a bit at that, his eyes going wide “and-I go to bed each night, wishing everyone goodnight-not knowing if I’ll wake up the next day.” Walter stared, if he had a heart-he was sure it would crack for you.

Walter closed his eyes, took a deep breath, paused for a moment, then sighed. He turned, kneeling in front of you-taking your hands that were freezing at the fingers. You blinked at him, feeling one of his hands wipe away your tears. “if I may” he whispered, his eyes reflecting the stars above “This is a bit-different from how I’ve done it in the past. Usually there's a whole courting stage and a proper announcement and public thing-but” he waved his hand, looking over the grandeur of it all. He looked back into your eyes, tilting your chin up just so. “I have never felt-so connected-with any other bride, potential or otherwise” you furrowed your brows, wondering what he was doing before it hit you.

He was proposing. Holy shit-he was choosing you!? For what reason, you didn’t know-maybe he was pitying you? You didn’t want him to pity you, you had been pitied your whole life-by your parents, Emma, doctors, extended family-everyone. You didn’t want Walter to only see what you lacked-to see your imperfections. “Are you doing this out of pity?” you whispered, and Walter stopped, then furrowed his brows.

“I admit-there was some pity at the start” he whispered, shifting so he sat on his knees “I saw just a frail little thing in my castle-unable to stand on her own-needing help to even walk. But now I see you; your undeniable strength, the courage you have to face the day as if you don’t stare death in his eyes” you could feel the tears returning, unexpecting such words from Walter. “I wish to give you the life you should’ve had, the life you deserve. To run with the wind, to be unafraid to go to sleep, to read every book in the world, and then some-I wish to give you everlasting life, ne’er to face sickness or pain ever again.”

He took your hands at his, holding them to his chest, looking into your weeping eyes. “So I ask you this, Lady (y/n) Alexander. Will you do me the honor, and become my bride? Become Lady Alexander-Deville? i promise you to extend my library, so it will take you a hundred years just to read half, and I will run with you whenever you wish, and spend as many nights with you outside when the moon is bright and the stars shine brighter.”

You sobbed, tucking your chin into your chest, and Walter feared he had scared you off with such a promise and declaration-such things he would make sure to do if you accepted his proposal-he just hoped to whoever was listening; that his powers-his gift to you-would heal you of your physical plights. Finally, after a few moments, you looked back up at him, a bright beaming slime that rivaled the moon looking back at him ”I accept your proposal, Master Deville, thank you” you cried, sobbing into his shoulder as he kissed your hands and held you close, turning you close to the fire to warm you back up, as the blanket at fallen from your shoulders during his proposal.

As the midnight chill began to set into the forest-Walter quickly packed everything up and extinguished the dying fire-picking you up and setting on his horse-getting on behind you and grabbing Bell’s reigns. “what bestows me the honor of riding with you?” you giggled, a flush strong in your cheeks as Walter wrapped his arms around you, the blanket from earlier curled around your shoulders to keep you warm.

“It’s too cold to ride alone, don’t want you getting sick” Walter muttered into your ear-smirking as you giggled again, leaning against his chest as he set back towards the castle. By the time you returned-it was well past midnight, Walter set the horses into their stalls and carried you into the castle-the book the two of you had been reading resting on your stomach as you rested your cheek on Walter’s shoulder-your arms tossed around his neck.

You were nearly asleep when he stepped into your room, setting you on your bed and taking the book from you and setting it on your nightstand-before lighting the fire and closing your windows-taking a slow breath as he looked back at you, your bleary eyes looking back, with a soft smile on your lips “I’ll go fetch Emma, sleep well darling” Walter whispered, leaning over you and kissing your head, grazing your chin with his fingers before he stepped away and out of your room, pausing as you told him to do the same. He smiled at you, nodding a bit “As you wish” with that-he closed the door.

And you had to muffle your scream with a pillow.

-

You thanked the gods for giving you such a miracle when you woke up the next day-feeling refreshed, your legs were still a bit numb but that was normal, but you felt no clog in your nose or tickle at the back of your throat. You hadn’t gotten sick from the previous night. You silently celebrated in your bed-shifting so you sat on the edge, groaning as you stretched and your back popped wonderfully.

You jumped as your door suddenly opened-two woman walking into your room-one was about your height with long golden red hair, wearing a soft purple dress that hung off her shoulders-the other was tall, dark and terrifying, her black eyes trained on you like a hawk. “good morning~!” the redhaired one said, sitting at the end of your bed and leaning towards you, her fangs on full display.

They must’ve been the Billington and Klopstock brides- Viktoria and Vasilica. “uh-hello?” you nearly squeaked, your shoulders arching up as Viktoria stared you down, almost staying in the shadows as Vasilica practically invaded your personal space. “The master told us, everything-so, welcome to the family lady Alexander~” Vasilica sang, her bright and cheery personality a strong opponent of Viktoria, who hadn’t said a word this entire time.

“uh, thank you?” you muttered, you had only accepted the night before-so you wondered when Walter had told them of it. You looked outside then, frowning as you saw the sun was quite high in the sky. “what time is it?” Vasilica hummed, pursing her lips a bit as she looked out the window with you. “just before noon I think-the master wanted to let you sleep in, but we wanted to invite you for brunch, if you would like?” you nodded with a small smile, watching as Vasilica jumped up and beamed “Wonderful~! Let’s go then, the master waits for us outside.” She turned about to walk out of the room when Viktoria stopped her-noticing you hadn’t moved from your spot.

“Something wrong?” Viktoria said quietly, her eyes trained on you. like Walter, she could smell the sickness that clung to you, the pain in your bones; she wondered why the master would pick such a weak bunny like you, instead of the healthier girls of the bunch. You flinched back at her eyes, fiddling with your fingers “uh-my-my legs don’t work as well as others do-it’s hard for me to walk on my own” you whispered, looking down at your legs, which hung limply off the bed and felt numb.

“Oh!” Vasilica said with a shocked face-apparently Walter had neglected to tell them your lack of properly working legs “oh that’s not a big deal, come I’ll carry you!” she took a step forward, her hands reaching towards you, and you were about to ask her if you could get dressed first-when the master, Walter, stepped into the room. “I see you have all met,” he said quietly, leaning on the doorway. Viktoria nodded stiffly as Vasilica beamed. “I’m sure (y/n) wouldn’t mind you carrying her dear, but it think she needs to get dressed first.” Vasilica looked at you, then at Walter, chuckling a bit “i suppose she does” Vasilica muttered with a shy smile, skipping out of the room with Viktoria slowly following her.

Walter grabbed her arm before Viktoria could fully exit, turning to her with dark eyes-eyes you hadn’t seen before; full of warning and death. “let me warn you now Viktoria. Be nice. Or I will have no hesitation in holding another Klopstock wedding after so long.” Viktoria looked shocked, glancing between you and Walter before she sniffed and tore her arm from his grip-storming off after Vasilica.

Walter huffed, turning back to you with a soft smile “Apologies. She gets…cruel, if she acts as such to you, please tell me-you shouldn’t suffer in a place where you should be respected.” You smiled back at him, nodding, biting the inside of your lip as he stepped towards you and took your hand, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll send Emma up to help you get dressed, I’ll be back to escort you to brunch” you nodded again, squeezing his hand a bit as he smiled down at you.

About 10 minutes later-you were dressed and waiting for Walter-reading more of the book as you did; continuing on from the part you had fallen asleep on. “The Count went for the quick kill, the inverse Bonetti. No chance. “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya; you killed my father…prepare to die” Again they crossed, and the Count moved into a Morozzo defense, because the blood was still streaming. Inigo shoved his fist deeper into himself. “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya; you killed my father; prepare to die.” The count retreated around the billiard table. Inigo slipped his own blood. The count continued to retreat, waiting, waiting. “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father; prepare to die.” He dug with his fist and he didn’t want to think what he was touching and pushing and holding into place but for the first time he felt able to try a move, so the six-fingered sword flashed forward-and there was a cut down one side of count Rugen’s cheek-another flash-another cut, parallel, bleeding-“ A knock at your door and you closed the book-marking your place as you sat up straight, smiling as Walter, your now fiancé, stepped in. “ready?” he asked, smiling as he saw the book. You nodded, holding the book to your chest as he walked towards you, one arm cradling your back and shoulders-the other going under your knees; easily lifting you up and carrying you out to the gardens-where brunch was set up.

Walter set you down on the left side of his chair-Viktoria on his right while Vasilica sat on the other end of the table, on your left. “I love your dress” Vasilica complemented, and you smiled, looking down at your blue and silver tunic dress, pulling at your white sleeves before you looked back at her-telling her the same for her purple dress. She beamed, looking towards Walter with a clear emotion in her eyes ‘I like her’ they read.

He smirked back, sipping at his deep red ‘wine’. You leaned back as a plate full of food was set in front of you, smiling at what you saw- French toast, fruits, pastries, meat; your favorites. You turned to see who had set the plate-seeing Emma winking at you, taking her place back with the other handmaidens and Mr. Fields. Similar plates were set in front of Walter and the other brides, though they had more ham included with theirs. “So,” you stared, picking up a piece of toast and ripping off a smaller piece “do any of the other girls know I've been chosen?” Walter shook his head, setting his glass down and grabbing a strawberry.

“Not yet-I’ll be announcing it tonight at the group dinner, Viktoria and Vasilica will be joining us as well. I’ve already sent a letter to your parents telling them the news, they should get it just before they start heading up here.” you nodded, licking your lips free of fruit juice as you grabbed your cup. “And-what’s the plan after tonight?” you asked next, leaning back in your chair as Walter set down his glass and grabbed a small leather-bound book, undoing the leather strip keeping it closed, and setting the pen aside.

“you’ll be heading home with your parents for two months after they arrive, gathering all you wish to bring back over here, then-of course- you’ll come back and move into the Alexander suite, and it’s customary there is a courting period even if I have already proposed, which is four months, and during that we will plan for the wedding.” He snapped the book closed and set it aside, looking towards you with an assuring smile “of course-all of this aligns if your health is steady, I do not mind waiting a bit longer, or even speeding things along if you need to.”

You nodded, smiling as you felt his free hand grab yours under the table-squeezing it lightly. “so, (y/n)” Viktoria spoke up, her voice slow and calculating. Vasilica and Walter glanced at her, both warning her to be nice. “What is it you like to do?” you blinked-not expecting that question. “oh um,” you stuttered, rubbing the back of your neck “i-I like to read? I’ve practically already read half of Walter’s personal library” you laughed, Vasilica beaming at your words. “oh wonderful, I’m-well-I never learned to read-so I’m glad someone other than the master has a use for that library.”

“Going to be expanding it actually” Walter mentioned, Vasilica cooed at the idea and your heart fluttered at the memory of his promise to expand as such to where it would take you 100 years to read half of it. “wonderful, more books and dust” Viktoria muttered, sipping at her ‘wine’. Walter just rolled his eyes, turning back to you with a smile “im sure (y/n) and I will keep the dust away, right darling?” you flushed at the name, but nodded, eyes drawing to the book that rested beside your cup. You really wanted to finish it-you just got to the truly exciting part. Though you were sure Walter had nearly finished it by the time he showed you the stars.

“Anything else? Or are you just a book-worm?” Viktoria asked, a near sneer on her lips. Walter quickly banished it with a glare. You tiled your head, shrugging a bit “I like to ride? Oh and uh-drawings something I dabble in…oh-my brothers are knights and I’ve always liked watching them train and compete” you shrugged again, honestly you liked doing a lot of things-but-once you thought about it-they were hard to describe.

Viktoria just hummed, tilting her head slightly “Due to your… condition, you don’t do much, do you?” you shook your head, not noticing the side-eye Walter was giving Viktoria. “no, not really-just an unfortunate effect to me. I wish I could do more-but I hardly have the energy to get out of bed sometimes.” There it was, there was the pity, in both Vasilica’s and Viktoria’s eyes, though there was much more sympathy in Vasilica’s than Viktoria’s gaze.

“then for your sake, I hope the exchange at the wedding will do your body good” Viktoria hummed, sounding like a compliment yet her eyes told you otherwise. Walter sighed and pinched his nose “play nice” he muttered to Viktoria, and she hummed back with a smirk “always” she said, reaching forward and brushing her hand through Walter’s chin-length locks. He blinked at her, allowing her to do so but turned back to you.

You supposed you would have to get used to being one of 3 brides, which, hopefully, wouldn’t be too hard-you had never expected to be a bride at all. “now,” Walter started, licking his lips “we should probably tell you the darker details of this marriage, and what will happen upon our wedding” Walter reached up, taking your hand, looking into your eyes “as you should know, we are vampires” you nodded “and you should know we consume human blood to sustain ourselves, but we do also eat human food to keep energy and strength.” You nodded again, looking down at their plates, which mostly matched yours. “which means-you will also have to drink blood, human blood.”

You could feel your stomach turn-you knew about their true natures since you were younger-but to now know you would be involved in it-made you a bit queasy. “Does animal blood not work?” Vasilica shook her head at your question “no, I tried, it’s like you drank nothing. it must be human blood” she said, leaning forward on the table, watching as Viktoria took a sip of her ‘wine’, her eyes on you.

Walter turned his attention back to you “now, we mostly have our blood in cups” he lifted his cup of ‘wine’. “but once in a while, we do require fresh prey, so-sometimes, you will need to feed on a live, or freshly dead, human.” You swallowed harshly, licking your lips as your stomach continued to turn.

"Do I get a choice of who I feed on?” you asked quietly, and Walter nodded. You felt a small bit of relief at that, you could make sure your prey wasn’t someone who didn’t deserve it. “I understand this is a lot to take it, and this is why there's such a long period between now and the wedding, to give you time to adjust to the circumstances,” Walter said, bringing your hand to his lips.

You nodded, it would take time for you to get…used to the idea of killing people for food, but you supposed it would get easier with time, or once you were transformed-the guilt would leave you. Only time would tell. “okay, okay I can deal with that” you whispered, smiling as Walter kissed your hand again. “wonderful, now-“ he released your hand-gesturing to your plate “eat, you’ll need your strength”

You did as asked, opening the book to read as you finished your food-the other girls now conversing with Walter as you distracted yourself with the awaited showdown between Inigo and Count Rugen.

-

You sat nearly pin straight as Emma finished pinning your hair, an intricate red crystal necklace being clipped to your neck via Mrs. Swift. “There you go deary,” Mrs. Swift said, resting her hands on your shoulders as you looked into the mirror that sat upon the vanity. You tilted your head to the side, seeing the gold earring that hung from your ears, complimenting the deep red of your gown. You had been told-as was tradition-the Deville brides wore red.  “I’m happy for you my lady, it’s been an honor to serve you,” Emma said, tears in her eyes. You turned to her, taking her hand with a smile.

“Like hell I would give you up easily” you laughed, scrunching your nose as Emma shook her head, sniffing as she squeezed your hand. “you’ve been by my side for the last five years, and have been wonderfully understanding of all my conditions; if anything-I’ll have you visit once in a while. You’ve been my best friend Emma. I won’t let you leave without a fight”

Emma cooed, hugging you tight and pushing her cheek against yours “Thank you, (y/n)” you thanked her back, holding her as tight as you could before another butler knocked at the door, saying everyone was ready. You nodded, grabbing Emma’s hand and using her arm to help you stand.

Mrs. Swift stood on your other side, a butler walking behind you as you made your way to the grand dining room-pausing at the doors, two butlers standing on each side. You could barely hear Walter from the other side of the thick wooden doors. “-as you all know, I took each day of this week to get to know each and every one of you, to help me make my choice of my Alexander bride. I assume, due to who is missing from this table, you know who I have chosen-and please I know, I chose out of her attributes and reasons of my own, not due to any of your faults. Now-may I please announce, my new Bride; Lady (y/n) Alexander."

And with that, the doors opened, and you saw everyone staring at you, Serena and Kalista looking absolutely ecstatic for you-only two looked disappointed-so you counted yourself lucky as not to encounter any nastiness. You noticed Walter holding out his hand to you, and you could feel Emma holding you tight as you help you walk to him. but you took a deep breath and stepped away from her, joining Walter at his side and taking his hand, smiling as he looked pleasantly surprised. “wrap this up though that hurt like a bitch” you whispered into his ear as he tucked you into his side, he laughed gently and nodded.

He quickly turned, and you saw a set of chairs that sat behind a decorated table, one just a bit taller than the other. He guided you to sit next to the taller one, and then stayed at your side, one hand on your shoulder as you sat up straight, smiling at Serena who was struggling to hold her excitement.

Walter continued to talk but you were hardly listening, looking about the room-seeing Vasilica and Viktoria at the head of the long table, Vasilica was beaming and clapping along with the rest of the girls as Walter’s hand squeezed your shoulder gently, while Viktoria politely clapped, her eyes boring into your soul. You looked away first, turning as you saw Walter take a glass full of deep red liquid, Viktoria and Vasilica being handed the same “charge your glasses” Walter said, and everyone raised their drinks into the air, all looking to you and Walter “To (y/n),” he turned to look down at you, smiling as he did, his hand still gently squeezing your shoulder “my new bride”

“To (y/n)!” you looked up at Walter, reaching up and squeezing his hand back, smiling as his smile turned to a wide grin. “May the bridemaidens rejoice” Mr. Fields called out, the girls all calling back with raised glasses to you “The bridemaidens rejoice.”

With that, everyone took a drink and Walter soon took a seat next to you, setting his glass down and leaning towards you. “everything okay?” he asked quietly, tilting his head slightly. You smiled back at him, reaching up to cup his cheek, looking into his bright blue eyes “everything's perfect” you whispered back, taking the chance and pecking his cheek “Thank you Master Deville”

He smiled, taking your hand and kissing your palm before leaning back in his seat, everyone beginning to eat.

-

Time flew by during the two months you returned home, your brothers barely letting you out of their sight. It was a bit-jarring-to see your room practically empty by the time you were set to make the journey back to Deville castle, your bookcase was empty, and all your dresses were packed away-minus the ones you were going to wear on the way to the castle.

To think-in only one week, your life had changed drastically, and soon-in about four months-you wouldn’t be human anymore. And maybe-just maybe-you would be able to run the grounds of the castle without collapsing from pain. You smiled at the thought, holding the book you had read over and over again through the last two months; Walter had let you keep it after seeing how much you loved it-and you might’ve grabbed his face and kissed his cheek heavily at the gesture.

You still giggled at remembering his shocked face-if he had the ability to blush he would’ve.

You turned at a knock on your door, calling for them to come in, smiling as you saw your mother and oldest brother step through-his hair a wild mess thanks to his helmet. “just get back from training?” you teased, reaching up as he rolled his eyes, leaning down to let you ruffle/fix his hair. You pulled back; feeling the grime in his hair “Ewwww did you even wash up before coming to see me? You trying to get me sick?” your brother cackled and rolled his eyes, fake sneezing at you and you screeched, weakly pushing him away.

“Oh you two, stop it” your mother laughed, walking about your room and finishing up packing for you. “the carriage is outside (y/n), he just wanted to say goodbye” your bother snorted, crossing his arms and turning to your mother “Goodbye? I’m going with her, gotta make sure she gets there safe and sound.”

“And to threaten Walter?” you groaned, unable to keep the smile off your face as your bother ruffled your hair, sharply grinning down at you “Of course,” he said, almost dramatically holding his hand to his chest “I have to make sure the master is going to be good to my baby sister” you rolled your eyes at him, slapping his hand away and letting him pick you up, your mother close behind as he walked you out to the carriage. It would be about a week's travel to Deville castle, and you hoped to the gods you wouldn’t catch something on the way.

You waved goodbye to your parents and other brother, who had to stay to finish his current training, Emma sitting at your side while your eldest brother-Justin- rode alongside the carriage. “keep her safe Justin!” your mother called as the carriage set off. He told them he would, turning to face the road as you watched your childhood home disappear behind the trees and hills.

-

When you arrive, Walter was waiting for you, meeting your brother's gaze for a moment before he quickly walked towards the barely stopping carriage-opening the door and bowing his head to you “we meet again, lady (y/n)” Walter said, holding his hands out to you as Emma helped you stand and maneuver yourself into your fiancé’s arms. “hi” you whispered back, feeling your cheeks flush as he stepped away from the carriage-holding you close as Emma stepped out, your brother guiding her.

“lord Deville,” your brother and Emma greeted, Emma bowing her head as Justin held his hand to his chest for a moment. Walter nodded back “Justin, Emma. Pleasure to see you again, now, let’s get (y/n) inside” you rested your chin on Walter’s shoulder as he turned and carried you into the castle, Emma giggled at the sight while Justin huffed a bit, raising his brow at you while you stuck your tongue out at him.

While you settled into the Alexander suite, Justin took Walter aside for a moment, crossing his arms as he leaned against a wall-staring into Walter’s eyes “Lord Deville, while I must thank you for choosing my baby sister, in which I hope is for honorable reasons; do note” he stepped closer, getting into Walter’s face, his lip curling up slightly in a snarl “if you hurt my girl, you will answer directly to me. And whatever crimes I commit against you; I will not care for the consequences. ” Walter smirked, nodding slightly.

“I swear upon my eternal life she will live happily and safely within this castle and as my wife.” Justin held Walter’s stare for a strong moment, then he smiled, patting Walter’s shoulder “good to hear that, now, I must be off-take good care of her-please.” Walter nodded again, watching as Justin made his way to the Alexander suite to say goodbye to you until the wedding.

You perked up as Justin stepped into your new room, nodding at what he saw. “well, I’m going to head back home” he said as he walked towards you, kneeling before you as you sat on your bed, Emma and Mrs. Swift unpacking your clothes and putting them away. You gave Justin a look “you already threatened him didn’t you?” you laughed and Justin grinned, leaning up as you pulled him into a hug “you are such a butt, I’ll miss you”

“I’ll miss you too bug, but not really-see you in four months” he stood, kissing the top of your head, and bowed out, laughing as you chucked a spare shoe at his head-Walter barely dodging it. “oh shit sorry Walter” you gasped, covering your mouth, your shoulders relaxing as he laughed lightly “I was aiming for Justin.”

“I could tell” Walter chuckled, moving to stand in front of you, his hand finding your cheek. “how are you feeling?” you pursed your lips, smiling up at your fiancé. You felt normal, well, as normal as you usually felt, your legs felt fine, and there was no weight in your lungs “good, I didn’t get sick on the way here” you hummed, leaning into Walter’s hand as he rubbed your cheek.

“Good, very good” he muttered, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Are you hungry at all?” you nodded, you had stopped for lunch before your arrival, but that was several hours ago. “perfect, dinner is ready for the four of us, do you want me to carry you or?” you just grabbed his arms, and he held you steady as you stood “Wonderful, come along then darling.”

-

The next four months went flying by-and you spent it bonding with your future husband and soon-to-be wives-in-law. It was still a bit of an odd concept to be a 3rd bride in a marriage of four, but you were getting used to the idea and wondered how Walter balanced it all. He spent most of his free time with you, Viktoria and Vasilica joining you for breakfast and dinner each day. There were of course days or weeks you wouldn’t leave your room, the usual cold or something else chaining you to the bed.

But that would be alleviated by Walter or Vasilica visiting you; of course, Emma never left your side. Viktoria was-slowly warming up to you, but that never stopped her from the snide comments and the side-eyes as you would read outside or in the library-mostly tucked into the little corner of Walter’s personal library.

You remembered the first time you saw Walter feed on a live human-you didn’t know who they were or where they came from-but you and Emma stumbled into Walter’s study(mostly to see if he wanted to join you for afternoon tea), only to see him draining the blood from a dark-haired woman. Emma gagged a bit-alerting Walter of your presence and he turned, his eyes near black and his mouth dripping with deep red blood, fangs peeking out from his shocked expression.

He gasped your name out, letting the now dead woman drop and wiping his hands on his pants, licking his lips as he glanced between you and the body “you-you weren't supposed to see that” he whispered, he had wanted to keep you protect from sights like this until you were married-when you would be more prepared to see it.

You looked back at Emma, nodding for her to leave and she quickly and happily obeyed, leaving you alone with Walter. He licked his lips nervously, a deeply concerned frown on his face. “who is she?” you asked, nodding to the woman, leaning on the wall as you stepped into the room. Walter glanced down at her, and swallowed harshly “just-just a widow-she volunteered, she wished her life to end anyway.” You nodded, holding out your new book to him, he glanced at it curiously.

“I got a new book; would you like to read it with me during afternoon tea? It’s called sleeping beauty.” Walter smiled, and nodded, happy you hadn’t freaked out like he thought you would-out of all his brides(which at this point, weren’t that many) you were the most…innocent-but you had been faced with death since childhood-it didn’t bother you as much as it did Emma. “of course my darling, let me get cleaned up first-I’ll join you in the gardens in a moment” you nodded with a grin, turning as Mrs. Swift stepped into the room after Walter called her in. he told her to escort you to the gardens and she nodded, doing as told while Mr. Field and a few other butlers got to work cleaning up the mess Walter made.

-

As the date of the wedding drew ever closer-your days became consumed with planning, barely able to catch a break. One moment you would be choosing placements and flowers, the next your dress and the menu, then the décor and seating chart.

It was just-a lot-so much it sent you into a flare-up, forcing you to your bed where you stayed for nearly two weeks, and only two weeks left till the wedding. You sniffed up at the ceiling, Emma patting a cold cloth on your forehead to hopefully lessen your fever. “I cannot wait to never be sick again” you grumbled and Emma nodded in agreement, she never minded taking care of you-but she had to agree that you never having to deal with illness again would be a good break for the both of you. She perked up at a knock on your door and quickly went to see who it was, stepping aside as Walter peered in at her.

“She’s resting master Deville, still a ways to go to get over it, but it's not one that’ll last much longer” Walter sighed in relief, a book in his hand as he walked over to your side, and sat down next to you. “Hello darling” he muttered, taking your warm hand in his, and pressing it to his lips “how are you feeling?”

“like shit” you croaked, voice nearly gone. Walter frowned, curling his arm around you and pulling you up to lean against him, your head in the crook of his neck. “what’s that?” Walter held up the book, and you beamed-it was the one from your first date. “yes please”

Walter chuckled, getting comfortable next to you and opening the book “As you wish, Emma, would you please get some tea and bread for us?” she nodded, skipping out of the room as Walter began to read what was now your favorite story. “The year that buttercup was born, the most beautiful woman in the world was a French scullery maid named Annette.”

-

The day of the wedding got closer and closer, and guests began to arrive as the week came to a close. You happily greeted your parents and brothers upon their arrival. “how has everything been darling?” your father asked, brushing a lock of hair out of your eyes as you all settled in the dining room, the doors leading to the gardens wide open to let the comfortable breeze through.

“wonderful, I got sick two weeks ago due to stress, but otherwise-it’s been wonderful-though Walter hasn’t let me into the library for nearly a month now” you pouted, every time you tried-he, Emma, or Vasilica prevented you, only laughing when you complained or asked why you counted go in. you still had access to the books-but you had to have them delivered to your room instead of freely grabbing them yourself.

“im sure he has a good reason for that” your mother laughed, grabbing your hand and shaking it about before she sat up-she and your family bowed as Walter walked into the room. “lord Deville, once again we thank you for inviting us to your home” he smiled and waved his hand, allowing them to stand fully.

“thank you for coming, and trusting me with (y/n). I trust she’s been telling you all about the last four months” he chuckled, walking over to you and kissing your head. They nodded, Justin raising his brow at Walter who just chuckled at him and leaned down to whisper in your ear “can I borrow you for a moment?” you hummed, but nodded, wondering what he wanted. He quickly scooped your up and bid your family a temporary adieu, walking off with you, and soon you were set down in front of the library.

“I was just talking about the library” you chuckled, almost squeaking as Walter covered your eyes and took your hands “Walter?” “keep them closed” he muttered, backing into the doors and leading you inside.

Your hands gripped his tightly, you had done your best to train your legs to allow you to walk for longer periods of time-but it still hurt to walk most of the time. “Walter?” you asked again, feeling him maneuver himself to stand behind you, his hands on your shoulders “okay, look” he whispered, and you opened your eyes, gasping at what you saw.

He expanded the library, just as promised, now it held nearly twice the amount of books it held before. “oh Walter” you muttered, lifting your hands to your mouth, tears of joy burning at your eyes “its-its”

“You like it?” Walter asked, almost shy in his question, holding your waist with his lips on your shoulder as you looked about the sunlit room. “i-I love it!” you laughed, turning in his grip and cupping his face. “thank you, thank you so much.” You took a brave step, and kissed him, closing your eyes as he let out a surprised hum and easily melted into it, his arms going around your waist and picking you up with ease.

“oh finally” you pulled away with a near squeak, looking over Walter's head to see Viktoria and Vasilica, both smiling(Viktoria had more of a smirk) at the two of you “I was wondering when you two were gonna kiss” Viktoria chuckled, turning on her heel and walking off, Vasilica laughing with a cheeky wave as she walked off in the other direction. Walter shook his head with a fond smile, setting you down and holding you close. “And here I thought Viktoria didn’t like me” you muttered, smiling at Walter as he chuckled and shook his head.

“And I told you she would warm up with time, you have a knack for getting into hardened hearts” Walter joked, kissing your head, tilting his head as you hummed “oh yeah? And what exactly got me into yours?" you teased, trailing your fingers up his chest, holding back a burst of laughter as he told you; completely serious.

"You showed me human kindness and that was your downfall.” You couldn’t help it, you laughed; loudly, your giggles echoing through the stone halls as your family smiled at each other-glad they had ended up making the trip all those months ago to include you in the potential brides.

“You, my good sir, are cheeky” you giggled, taking a few deep breaths as you finished laughing at Walter. He just chuckled, taking your chin and kissing you again, muttering about how he couldn't wait to do that as your husband. “only three days left Walter, be patient.” He hummed, looking very impatient. He kissed you again, holding you as close as he could without squishing you; like he couldn’t get enough of you once he had a taste. You giggled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck-making sure to properly thank him for the expanded library.

-

You took several deep breaths as you felt Emma pin your necklace around your neck, the gem sitting in the middle of your chest. “Ready?” your father asked, kneeling next to your chair. You took another deep breath and nodded “As I’ll ever be” you muttered, letting Justin pick you up and carry you down to the chapel that was built beneath the castle-the skirt of your dress carefully bunched beneath his arm.

As you got closer to the set of doors that hid the chapel and your soon-to-be husband from you, you could feel your heart race and your palms sweat. You were really doing this; you were really getting married and getting turned into a vampire. You would soon be a blood-drinker, someone who fed on human blood. It was a strong downside to the deal-but-on the other hand.

You would be able to walk on your own, breathe without strain, run for the first time since you were very young, and dance without pain. For all that-it was all too worth what you would have to do to gain it all.

It helped your soon-to-be husband was very, very handsome. You took another deep breath as you were set on your feet, your father on your left side, holding your hand tightly as you clung to his arm. “Ready darling?” your father asked, and you nodded, holding your head high as the doors opened and you began to walk.

Everyone stood from their seats, all eyes on you as you walked towards Walter at the end of the aisle. He glanced over his shoulder at you, and you took a sudden breath; he was dressed in deep red velvet lined with gold, a smile on his face as he watched you walk towards him. soon enough your father handed you over to Walter and you kneeled beside him, eyeing the two silver chalices that sat just in front of you and the minister.

“You look beautiful darling” Walter whispered, curling his pinkie around yours and you smiled, telling him he looked handsome. He grinned back-his fangs fully out-and you thought he looked quite good with them out. You both turned to the dark-cloaked minister as he raised his hands, the altar behind him decorated with yours and Walter’s banners. “We are gathered here this day, to sanctify the union, between our benevolent master, and his new bride; from the Alexander bloodline. Long may they flourish.”

Behind you, everyone from the three great families chanted the words that had been ingrained in you since you had discovered the true nature of your family's power. “May the bridemaidens, rejoice” the minister turned to Walter, who raised his head high-squeezing your pinkie gently. “Master, Do you take (y/n) Alexander to be your bride? To protect and honor her, for all the days of your eternal life?” Walter almost looked proud to say; “I do”.

The minister turned to you, and you took a deep breath as he spoke “And do you, (y/n) Alexander, take the master to love, honor, serve and obey, for all the days of your eternal life?” you glanced at Walter, whose ever blue eyes pierced into your soul, and you thought about the last four months with him. every quiet moment, every kiss on your head, every concerned furrow of his brows when you could cough or wheeze, every time he carried you when you couldn’t walk. His promise to run with you. And so you nodded, turning back to the minister “I do.” You could hear the quiet excited chatter within the crowd, and you could feel the excitement from Vasilica.

*trigger warning for self-harm and blood drinking!*

“May you now exchange blood” you watched as Walter took a dagger, slicing open his wrist and letting it pour into the silver chalice that sat before him. no sooner than the cup filled only a quarter ways-his wound healed, and he took the cup, handing it to you. You took a deep breath as you carefully grabbed the chalice. You closed your eyes then tipped your head back, letting Walter’s blood fill your mouth and go down your throat.

Almost instantly you could feel the change, the power that coursed through you. The weakness you had felt your entire left-disappeared in an instant. The pain in your legs-gone. The heaviness of your lungs-gone. That sickness that never quite left you-gone. You could feel your mouth ache slightly as your new fangs unsheathed themselves, your nails turning black and sharp-along with your fingertips.

You took several, long deep breaths-for once feeling uninhibited from doing so, the wheezing was gone. You opened your eyes, turning to Walter, and he beamed, his hand that somehow found its way to the small of your back rubbing it with his thumb. You turned to the chalice placed in front of you, taking the dagger alongside it and doing the same Walter had-watching as your blood poured into the chalice. And just as his had-your wound healed within a near instant.

You took the cup, handing it off to Walter, who eagerly drank your blood, a low moan rumbling in his chest-some of your blood escaping down the corner of his mouth and trailing down his jaw. He quickly caught it with his finger and sucked it clean, licking his lips a moment afterward. His eyes glowed for a quick moment, and you turned-seeing Viktoria and Vasilica’s doing the same. And the rush of strength and power you had felt upon your turn felt 100x stronger when it washed over you again.

Walter turned to you, and grabbed your hand-and you focused back into reality as the minister continued to speak. “and now, the new lady Deville; will indulge herself in her first blood.” You frowned, wondering if Walter had forgotten to mention something about the ceremony. And that’s when it hit you-the raging hunger-a hunger you had never felt before-a thirst even-for blood. You supposed that’s what made the whole-drinking human blood thing-easier; having the need to drink it. You turned, and if your heart was still beating-it would’ve skipped a beat; for there, at the altar, was a young man looking resigned to his fate-his eyes holding a deep sadness. You turned to Walter, non-verbally asking if the man wanted to die.

He nodded back, leaning towards you to whisper in your ear “a man of no wealth and poor luck-he volunteered in exchange his only child be taken care of.” He was a father…you-you weren’t sure you could kill such a man. Then Walter whispered again “you need not kill him, but simply drink some of his blood until you were satisfied.” You let out a slow breath and nodded, getting to your feet without help-something your mother gasped happily at-something she hadn’t seen you do since you were very very young.

You took the man's lower neck, swallowing as you felt that burning hunger nearly take you over “Forgive me if I go too far” you muttered down at the man, and he smiled kindly, closing his eyes as you bared your fangs-and descended upon his neck.

Everything went fuzzy after that, you could feel the warm liquid of the man's blood fill your mouth and stomach, a new strength filling you with it. It was-delicious, like smooth cream custard. Sweet cherry sauce on a savory tart. French toast drizzled with strawberry glaze. Pastries filled with cinnamon cream.

You pulled away from the man's neck with a gasp, licking your lips clean-using your hands to clean your chin as the man slumped-still alive-but weak. He would need time to recover. You muttered a small thank you to him, and turned back to Walter-his eyes almost dark with a deep lust for you, but lightened with the love he felt at the same time. He held his hand out to you as he stood, and you joined him, easily tucking into his side as the minister spoke again-but you could hardly hear his words, only feeling Walter’s body heat and the blood rushing through your body.

You jolted back to reality as Walter grabbed your left hand, and you looked down to see him sliding a ring on your finger. You had completely forgotten about this part. He kissed your knuckles and then handed you his ring, and you slid it onto his finger, holding his hand tightly as he turned back to the minister.

Soon enough you felt Walter’s fingers under your chin, and you looked up to see him looking at you, his eyes bright as ever, a smirk on his plush lips. He looked at your lips and you easily got the hint-you supposed the minister announced you as man and wife-and it was time to kiss the bride. And with that, Walter kissed you, and you happily accepted it, curling your arms around his back and holding him tight, groaning into the kiss as he licked at your bottom lip. You could just feel his fangs at your lips, and it was likely he could feel yours.

You could hear your parents sob happily, and the crowd soon burst into applause. You opened your eyes slowly as Walter pulled away, giggling as he pecked your lips quickly before he fully pulled back, tugging you into his side as you turned to the crowd. “may we rejoice, in the new Lady Alexander Deville”

“May the bridemaidens rejoice”

-

The reception was a party, everyone was excitedly talking, dining, and dancing; celebrating your marriage with the master. You stood with Walter at the head table, greeting everyone that walked up to you. It felt-odd-to stand on your own so easily after so many years of pain. It did feel every odd to do it, your legs felt unused to doing this; so you reasoned you would have to train them to get used to no longer needing help.

Dancing with Walter was-a bit embarrassing-something he handled wonderfully well as he guided you across the dance floor. you had honestly never learned to dance-so you practically buried yourself in Walter’s side as he led you in a near graceful waltz.  But soon enough you found yourself wandering away from the party-giving the excuse that you needed some time alone due to intense excitement; it took a minute but you finally found yourself on the other side of the castle-facing the forest and stables.

“There you are” you perked up, smiling as you saw your newly-wed husband. He walked over to you and took his spot next to you on the castle wall, his hand finding yours as you fiddled with your new ring. “was wondering where you went, already bored of me?”

“Gonna take me a while to get bored of you” you joked, leaning on his shoulder and letting yourself relax “I’ll get bored of you when I’ll get bored of reading.” Walter let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, holding his free hand to his chest “oh thank goodness, a day never to come.” You laughed, finally freely able to do so without worry of an attack.

You both settled into comfortable silence, taking in the crickets and night birds that settled in the darkened forest, a soft breeze brushing by as the horses quietly ate their hay. “so” Walter muttered, turning his head into yours, his lips pressing against your forehead “you gonna do it?” you frowned, looking up at him confused. He smiled, chuckling a bit “the first thing you wanted to do upon being turned”

You felt a smile grow on your face and you slowly stepped away from Walter, using his arm to lean over and take off your shoes, giggling at the feeling of the grass against your feet. Walter took them from you tilting his head as you took a few tentative steps away from him, glanced back for a moment-

Then you ran-your arms pumping at your sides, the wind in your air, your laughter echoing through the trees. Walter smiled, watching you run with such a fondness he never knew he could feel after becoming a vampire. He dropped your shoes to the floor and took off after you, his laughter joining yours as you raced through the forest, the chatter of the guests blurring into the background as you ran into the night with your husband.

Back at the party, Viktoria smirked into her glass-the sound of Walter’s laughter was a sound she hadn’t heard in quite a while, and while she wished she was the source of it, she found she didn’t mind you being its reason.

-

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years, years into decades, and decades into centuries; and in the late 1800’s, the Deville family found themselves moving into a grand manor known as New Carfax Abbey, the fine white stone a strike difference from the strong grey castle you used to live in. “Walter?” you asked quietly, wondering where he was taking you. Upon your arrival, he had quickly told you to close your eyes and let him lead you into the manor. He had bought the manor upon its completion-but it had been months since-something about minor changes being made to the building. “can I open my eyes yet?”

“No, no, not yet” he muttered back, his footsteps echoing loudly as he brought you into a dark room. It almost sounded like a theater with the way they reverberated off the walls. He stopped suddenly, holding your shoulders for a moment as he turned, sounding giddy “Wait here.”

He rushed off, and you heard curtains being pulled, and sunlight suddenly beamed into the room-making you lift your brows and look towards the light-wondering what he was doing. “Walter? Now can I open them?” you saw his shadow move back in front of you, and he took a deep breath, a smile in his voice as he spoke. “All right, now~!”

You opened your eyes, your hands flying up to your mouth as you gasped. It was a library-a huge library, filled with hundreds and thousands of books, two stories high with spiral staircases and ladders to help you reach the books. Tall windows lit the room in natural light, a fireplace resting at the head of the room, and even more books were set upon the mantel. “Walter-i-I can't-even-wow” you spun around, taking in the wonderful sight, walking around Walter as he grinned at your reaction-you were completely speechless, even more so than when he had expanded the library of the original Deville castle.

“you like it?” Walter asked, almost shy, repeating his words from hundreds of years ago; smiling as you leaped into his arms at the nearly rhetorical question. “like it? I love it! Thank you, Walter” you almost sobbed, taking his face and kissing him, your arms around his neck as he lifted you off your feet. He pulled back after a moment, shaking his head in an attempt to not get lost in the moment “I have two more surprises for you” he hummed, setting you down and taking your hand, running with you down to the other end of the library-were you found a kitchenette.

“My own little kitchen?” you laughed, opening the cabinets to see your favorite snacks and pastries packed away; waiting for you to eat them while you read away. “awwww, I love it” you laughed as Walter nodded, happy he had made a good choice “what's the second surprise?” you asked, taking Walter’s hand as he held it out to you, leading you to a slightly dark corner.

He looked around, then pulled at a small notch in the wall, stepping back as the bookcase slid back and to the side “holy shit” you muttered, letting Walter lead you into the room, laughing as he pulled a few curtains opened and revealed a mini-library-around the same size as his study. But you recognized every book in there, it was his and your favorites-with that oh-so-beloved book of yours sitting on a pedestal in the middle of the back bookshelf.

“A secret library?” you teased, turning to Walter and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking over his shoulder to see another fireplace with a chair resting in front of it-perfectly sized for the two of you, either you to be tucked into his side-or sitting on his lap.

“I thought it appropriate” he muttered, closing his eyes and holding you close, taking a deep breath of you and relaxing. “And did Viktoria and Mary get their own little rooms?” you teased, while you absolutely didn’t mind the favoritism Walter showed you, but-they were also his wives and they deserved just as much from him as you did.

He nodded “yes yes, Viktoria has a music room, her harp already moved in; and Mary has her own kitchen, free to bake as she likes” you hummed, you couldn’t wait to see what Mary created-she was a wonderful cook and pastry chef, having made the best Pain Au Chocolat you had ever tasted in your last nearing 500 years of life.

Vasilica had unfortunately died to hunters about 200 years back, Mary being her ‘replacement’. you had Viktoria had actually gotten a bit closer due to Vasilica’s death, and you made sure Viktoria wasn’t cruel to the new Billington bride-just as Vasilica had done for you during that fate-changing week(which shocked you, you hadn’t seen Viktoria until that final day-but that was due to Vasilica interfering and keeping Viktoria away from most of the potential Alexander brides.)

“Good” you muttered, kissing Walter softly then you spun on your heel, giddy as you looked upon the secret library. “so-uh-“ you turned again, about to ask if you could get started but Walter was already holding out his hand, grinning as he prepared to lead you back out to the grand library. You let out a laugh, eagerly following him out-your giddy laughter filling the pristine library.

-end~-

Well-this was a LONNNG boi!!! 61 pages and 19709 words!!!!!!!!!!!! I started this back in early December I think too-so it’s been a long ass minute since I started this XDXD anyways-hope yall enjoyed~ and now onto OUAD Walter version~!!! As promised/planned~ gn!!!!

also sorry for killing off Vasilica!

taglist!

@thetrueghostqueen @littlewierdalien @sessediz

[tsukiyohanayome]

The Cursed Slave ch.1

an: I have no idea how long it's gonna be or whether or not I'm gonna ditch it, since I'm already upset with this fic as my proofreader shits on me and took more than 3 weeks and I didn't hear anything from them since. But I'm very invested in this fic. It's supposed to be a slowburn with eventual smut bc its Sukuna and my brain is rotten. wc: 1.6k tw: slavery??

Sukuna has always had a preference for the innocent ones.

It wasn’t because he wanted someone to take care of or because he liked to be gentle, no. It was rather the opposite. Innocence was fun. Fun to break. He delighted himself in how they always crumbled under his touch, succumbing to what they’d sworn their life to always run away from. It was amusing to play with his victims, play with their emotions, and make them addicted to his presence, his mere attention and physical contact. Addicted to the point of madness.

A slave. An empty shell of what formerly was a human. Why did this happen to me, you wondered, as one of them yanked you harshly by the chains connected to the collar around your neck and handcuffs on your wrists, causing you to fall. – "Pathetic maggot" – he scoffed, lifting your body and throwing you over his shoulder – "Can’t even walk, we probably won’t even make any money off selling you." – he said, carrying you over to the bidding area. 

You didn’t care. You didn’t care who is going to buy you or how much they were going to pay for you. It’s not like it matters. You don’t exist. Since that very day when the purge happened in your village, you were dead. They killed you with everyone else. Burned you down with all the houses, crops and memories. Except they didn’t. You and the group of other village girls and young women were spared and took prisoners to be sold. Were you really spared, then? They all were taken with different men, making it impossible to plan any way of escaping as you were completely alone. Where would you go, anyway? Every person you used to know was long gone. 

The room is cold and damp, circle shaped with a pedestal in a middle. Filled almost to the brim with monks buying slaves for their kings, as well as nasty drunkards, wanting a toy for their own sick pleasure. The moment you entered the room, sickening catcalling noises hit your ears and you wanted nothing more than to disappear. Your oppressor dragged you on the pedestal and then spun you around, like a little rag doll causing the group of those disgusting barbarians to whine even louder and the auctioneer hushed them to start his speech. – “Gentlemen, please! This one is our last for today, so calm down and we all can go home. Starting price is 1000 gold pieces!” – You hung your head. Your life was worth just a bit more than a couple loaves of bread now. Stinging tears started forming up in the corners of your eyes, as there was a brief silence in the room. Were you worth even less? Will they kill you, if no one buys you?

- “1500!” – shouted one. Strange relief, followed by terror when he continued – “she will make the cutest housewife for me and my men!” – a loud, repulsive smack of his lips filled your head and your stomach dropped. You’ve never been a religious person, but you found yourself praying to any possible god that was out there. Please, please, please NOT him. – "2000!" – Said another. Your body started shaking involuntarily as the bid went higher but you couldn’t dare to look, at who was going to be your next owner. You prayed for all of this to be just a sickening nightmare.

Your blood ran cold when you heard soft but a firm voice say “two million” and, as shocked as the rest of the attendees, you looked toward its source. It was a monk, dressed in a dark blue robe, with chin-length white hair. Your heart started racing, as maybe, just maybe the person you’ll be sold to, won’t be your death, judging by the stoic look of your bidder. 

Everyone was too shocked to proceed, the auctioneer sold you to the monk right away.

Grabbing your chains, the oppressor from before was about to drag you to the monk only to be stopped by their raised hand. – “Now, now. There’s no need to be this harsh.” – They spoke elegantly. The tiniest flick of fire lit in your heart, giving you a promise, you desperately tried to hold onto. Were you actually saved now?

The monk came up to you and you lowered your head, not daring to look at them. You’re just an object, after all. You’re not worthy to look at anyone without permission. A hand touched your chin lifting it and you yelped softly at a sudden, gentle contact. They looked into your eyes and smiled. – “Come on, we need to make you look appropriate before you can see the Master. My name is Uraume. Let’s go to your new home.” – Home. You wanted to both laugh and cry at that word. Your home. Flashbacks of the purge immediately hit you and you couldn’t hold the tears that rolled freely down your cheeks. 

Your village was your safety. You led a simple life of a young adult woman and helped your parents with daily errands, the farm and the crops. Sometimes you also would help other elderly neighbors as not many of them had kids on their own. The population structure in your village was rather an old one and you didn’t have any plans of changing that. You just weren’t interested in any village man you knew for your entire life. Every single day was the same, but you couldn’t care less. Of course, you longed for some thrill in your life, like from those tales your mom used to tell you. About a young village girl who met a prince and they lived happily ever after. Sometimes you even let yourself fantasize and think about “bad guys” coming to the village and a charming prince appearing out of nowhere, to save everyone and falling in love with you instantly. It certainly was something, that should only be a mere fantasy, right? 

Your village was a safe place, after all. Every full moon a sacrifice in the shape of a cow, pig or calf was taken away to the place you would rather not think about. But it kept your village safe. Something, certain someone was protecting your home and you never wanted to delve into details. 

You’ve heard a lot about neighboring villages being seized by brigands but nonetheless, the villagers weren’t scared. They said the sacrifices they’re giving suffice and so you were calm about your life as well. Until one day your fantasies became true. But partially. 

You woke up to the horrific screams of villagers and the smell of smoke. Looking out through the window you could see the fire, dangerously dancing on the rooftops of the houses you knew so well. You could hear voices you know, screaming, begging for help. Feeling the urge to stand up and do something, help them, fight! Fight? You are a common village girl who can’t even hold a bow properly. Cursing yourself mentally, you opened the window as silently as possible and you slid through. You had to hide, somewhere. But, to your misfortune, the second your feet touched the ground a pair of arms grabbed you, a hand covering your mouth to silence your cries, and you’ve been dragged somewhere. 

All the things they’ve done to you and everyone and everything…

Your prince never showed up…

- “Hello?” – a snap of fingers in front of your face brought you back to reality. Before you stand the same, white-haired monk that just bought you. Their dark-pink eyes looking intently at you – “I’ve asked you a question. What is your name?”

Your name? No one’s asked about it in so long, you almost forgot what it was. Did it even matter anyway? You whispered your name, barely audible though – “But I’ll answer to anything my new Master chooses to” – you add immediately. 

The monk smiled lightly and reached for a key, that the auctioneer must’ve given them when you were lost in your thoughts and unlocked your handcuffs and the collar, and started walking towards the direction of your soon-to-be-home. A hiss left your lips as you grabbed your wrist to massage the bruised skin. How long were you chained for? Weeks? Months? You don’t even know, time lost its meaning long ago. – “Are... Are you not worried that I might escape?” – you asked sheepishly. 

You could hear them chuckle shortly and they looked at you over their shoulder, without stopping – “I know you have nowhere to go, I know what happened to you. Besides, I’m taking you to the safest place you could ever be at. If you’re wanted there.”

The last bit leaves a dreadful chill running down your spine. But… How did they know what happened? You had so many questions forming up in your head and somehow, you felt like you can trust them. Uraume, was it? – “Ummm… U-Uraume…?” – you started, suddenly regretting using their name like this and all you wanted was to crumble into dust. You shut your eyes, waiting for a punishment that didn’t come and only heard a hum in response. Opening your eyes you saw the monk facing you now, their eyes tinted with concern – or so you imagined. – “I… What… Who… Who is going to be my new… New Master?” – you hate how this all sounds on your tongue. you knew you were going to hate them. You just wanted to be free. Not to be someone’s puppet, you wanted to live life again. “I know you have nowhere to go” the echo of Uraume’s words hit you instantly as if to mock your situation. 

They smiled at your question, turned away and started walking again. – “Your new Master? It’s Ryoumen Sukuna.”

Your stomach dropped. 

©tsukiyohanayome 2022 no next chapter date bc I have no idea and I'm just starting my new work, but I'll try my best to upload it next month or so

taglist: @sakuraryomen01 @xxnghtclls @dr-skazkaif you want to be on the taglist drop an ask or comment here

[realcatalina]

St. Barbara by Lucas Cranach the Elder

Lucas Cranach the Elder is not among painters we associate with Netherlandish art. However, he made the trip in 1509, and painted Emperor Maxmilian and future Charles V during the occasion.

While we have no prove he painted also netherlandish royal ladies, it is clear they inspired the St. Barbara(above) which he painted around same time. C.1509-it is excellent example of netherlandish fashion from that time...and very suitable as costume inspiration. Except the halo of course. :-)

It's quite rare we can tie painting to specific year, but that makes it even more valuable in terms of creating chronology of fashion for specific country. And I am very gleeful that this fits to my chronology- late 1500s/very early 1510s.

The saint Barbara in this golden outfit is left wing of portable artalpierce(triptych) belonging to Landgrave Wilhel of Hesse an Anna of Mecklenburg.

Which is also called-Jesus flanked with Saints Barbara,left and Catherine,right,1509 Lucas Cranach:

If you want to see the painting in more detail, here is the link:

PS: I forgot to say that this stripy embroidery is reminisense of spanish embroidery(examples more bellow)

(Update-i have no idea why this image shows so large. The picture i put in is no larger than my thumb. It's probably some glitch. Sorry.)

and thus probably brought into Netherlands by Joanna I of Castile or Margaret of Austria's time in Spain as Princess of Austurias(both happening in late 1490s). I don't recall another example of this, in netherlandish fashion, so far.

But I'd expect that at court it could have lingered for bit, especially among royals women. Margaret and Joanna's daughters.

[dietcokeandoats]

tw substance, 3d rant

went to a party and then the street fest again today. i didnt eat before i went bc i woke up super late (thanks sp33d for keeping me awake too late ln) and then at the party/fest i had 2 seltzers (100 ea.), a beer (140), a tiny amount of paloma (like 75 max it was really small) and 1 serving chips + mango salsa (like 200 max). we started drinking at 3:30 lol so its been spaced out. i had another beer at home like an hour ago (140) happy i didnt get something high cal at the fest again

but now im at 755 max and im lowkey hungry and my bf will notice if i dont get eat. but we started doing c0k3 and so i feel like food will just make me feel nasty and also my bf wont want anything either. nothing i could order (or have energy to cook) will be under like 500 cal

ive been losing pretty consistently on 1200-1500 bc of my current bmi so i could but idk. tempting to just go without.

[mlmxreader]

Disobedient | Sierra Six x m!reader (🍋)

Anonymous asked: "You're really going to disobey me?" Smut with sierra six?

summary: you and Six have a set of rules that must be obeyed, but you’ve always loved breaking them and being disobedient. 

tws: Daddy kink, choking, swearing, anal sex, top!Six, dom!Six, praise kink 

word count: 1500

MINORS DNI 

Usually, when Six wasn’t around, you would break the rules that you had set with him, knowing that he wouldn’t find out; you would indulge in the things that you knew would make him growl and tell you off about doing, knowing that you were disobeying him only ever egged you on and made you more eager to do it, knowing how fucking wild it would drive him if he ever knew. Sometimes you would tell him, when he called you or when he texted you, you would openly admit what you had done and you would wait in excited anticipation for him to get home and let you know what he thought about you breaking the rules. You loved that, though, you loved that you could push his buttons even when he was a thousand miles away, and he never forgot either; you could break the rules on the first day he had gone, and even if he was gone for a month, he would come back and show you exactly what he thought about it. You loved that, you loved that you and Six had that type of relationship; a retired assassin and the Grey Man, a rule breaker and a punisher. 

He had only gone shopping when you had decided to break the rules; looking at some nude pictures of him on your phone as you pulled your cock out, slowly teasing yourself with your hand until you were hard. You bucked your hips into your hand, growling softly as you got yourself going, breath getting heavier as you bit at your bottom lip and moaned his name under your breath. You didn’t even realise he had come back by the time you were so fucking close to cumming, until he stood at the end of the bed, head tilted slightly to the side and his eyes narrowed as he shook his head. 

You stopped, your cock aching for release as you moaned softly and withdrew your hand. “Daddy, don’t-” 

“You’re really going to disobey me? Break my rules?” He grumbled, clenching his jaw. “I thought I told you, don’t touch yourself while I’m gone.” 

“Please…” you whimpered, bucking your hips against nothing as you licked your lips and let your phone fall to the bed. 

Six looked at the screen, a smile on his lips when he looked back at you. “You were getting off to pictures of me?”

You nodded. “Yes.” 

“Good boy,” he purred. “I guess you’ve been good enough for the real thing - if you want it.” 

You nodded eagerly, but when you were told to use your words, you almost thought for a second that your voice wouldn’t work, so fucking eager and needy that you could feel it in the back of your throat. “I want it, Daddy, please.” 

“Go sort yourself out,” Six’s voice left no room for argument as he nodded towards the bathroom. “Be quick about it.” 

You knew what you were doing, you had done it a thousand times before, but while you were busy with stretching your asshole a little bit and lubing yourself up, Six took the time to undress; he laid down on the bed, but soon moved up so that he was propped against the headboard, stroking his cock until he was leaking precum, soft grumbles leaving his lips. He had a lot more self control than you did, as he spread his legs and waited for you; he dared to smile when you came out of the bathroom, biting down on his lip. 

“You want Daddy to fuck that little asshole of yours?”

You nodded, clearing your throat and swallowing thickly. “Please.” 

Six tapped his thigh all of once, watching with a soft hum as you got up on the bed and lined yourself up with his cock; he took your hand in his, bringing it to his chest, just above his heart, as he nodded at you. Slowly, you sank down on him with a curt and quiet moan; Six was always gentle at this point, giving you the time to adjust to his size before he started to buck his hips, a sick smile coming to his face. 

“This better than looking at pictures?” He asked gruffly, his other hand going to your ass, digging his fingertips into the soft flesh. 

You nodded, taking his arm in your free hand and bringing it to your throat as you matched his pace, rocking your hips in time with his. “Please, Daddy, choke me.” 

Six wasn’t one to deny such a sweet and soft request as that, putting his hand around your throat and applying enough pressure to make you gasp softly; Six was still being gentle as he bucked up into you, hitting that sweet spot of your ass that made you nearly double over, the hand on his chest pressing down as you tried to keep yourself upright. 

“Such a good boy,” he praised, his voice still so fucking low and so fucking gruff that it was only driving you on even more. “Riding my cock so good.” 

You couldn’t help it, moaning his name and biting down on your lip as you put both hands on his chest, arching your back a little as you let him choose the pace; he picked it up a little, not much, but still being so fucking gentle with you as he choked you a little harder and looked at your cock, a smile coming to his lips. Fuck, Six loved it when you bounced your ass on his cock, always so fucking tight around him, always such a fucking good boy for him and him only. 

“Will you disobey me again?” He groaned, and when you shook your head, he let go of your hand, and gave your ass a firm smack. “Use your words like a good boy.” 

“No,” you moaned softly. “I promise, I won’t break the rules again, Daddy.” 

“Good boy.” Six tilted his head back a little, picking up his pace so it was still quicker again, but still not quite being rough with you. He was only ever rough when you asked him. Fuck, the feeling of your ass around his cock was good. 

You weren’t sure how much longer you could last, the way he was fucking your ass was driving you wild, and mixed with the way he choked you and how he praised you, you were certain that you wouldn’t be long; you knew you couldn’t last forever, but you were already so fucking horny beforehand that you almost felt overwhelmed and overstimulated. Fire seemed to burn through your veins, making you break out in a sweat that covered your body, your cock aching as you tried to fuck yourself on his cock, as you tried to get as far as you could; Six was all too happy to help you with that, though, keeping his pace quick but gentle, using just enough pressure on your throat, and letting out praise after praise, knowing how it got to you and knowing how it drove you fucking wild. He knew that you weren’t going to last long, he knew it better than he knew how much you liked to be praised, but he kept at it, not hesitating for a single second, and when he knew you were right at your tipping point, he dared to let out the words that he knew you wanted to hear so badly. 

“Be a good boy and cum for Daddy.” 

You went over the edge, snapping your hips in a sloppy and uncalculated way, doubling over a little more so that your cum shot onto his skin, whimpers and moans and grunts and growls leaving you as you fucked yourself on his cock, panting out his name over and over; always the gentleman, Six was more than happy to keep going, riding you through your release until he started to achieve his own, pumping your ass with his cum as he continued to praise you, revelling in how your voice went hoarse and how you begged for him to fuck his cum into your ass until he couldn’t anymore. He was more than happy to indulge such a thing, breathless and panting as he grunted and growled and groaned, his chest heaving and his breath nearly running out; he rode himself through his release, and groaned softly when you got off of him, flopping onto your stomach beside him. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your mouth feeling dry. 

Six groaned, reaching out for you and running his hand up and down your back, not caring how your sweat stuck to his skin as he dared to clear his throat and speak. “You okay?”

You nodded, daring to smile lazily at him as you cleared your throat and tried to catch your breath. “Yeah, just… fuck.” 

He smiled, nodding and licking his lips. “You wanna come take a shower with me? Get cleaned up then grab something to eat?”

“Yeah.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

[bedcorpse]

tw weight loss under the cut

seeing old snap memories and going “oh my god look how round my face was” then remembering i was a size 14 then and just bought a pair of size 8 shorts yesterday and also remembering how i thought i’d never be 155 lbs and now i am BELOW that goal weight and OUGHHH

like i’m not shaming being fat, there’s nothing wrong with that and if you can’t admit fat people are hot you’re a coward, but if you want to lose weight and are looking for your sign to start doing so (HEALTHILY i still eat 1500-1900 calories a day most days), here you go.