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ittybittyfanblog · 2 months ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 7

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, suggestive themes!, there’s some slight smut… but nothing too graphic (ion rly write smut haha), angst and comfort, this chapter’s brought to you by: a bunch of sad songs on repeat! A/N: 7k+ words what the fuck!! (this might actually be one of my favorite chapters. :’))

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

“You don’t have a favorite color.”

“I… don’t, no.”

“But you’re quite partial to green.”

“I guess so—?”

“You’ve worn the same green shirt to bed thrice this week,” he notes lightly, pertaining to your Loki: Master of Mischief tee. The corners of his mouth pull into a faint, knowing smile. “It suits you, by the way.”

Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you glance at him, narrowing your eyes in slight embarrassment. “It’s a perfectly comfy shirt,” you reply, a defensive edge to your tone. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Nothing at all,” he agrees reassuringly. “Just making an observation.”

“What, are you keeping a dossier on me now?”

Sylus gives a noncommittal hum, but offers nothing more in response. He keeps watch on you from his usual spot in the corner between the monitor and the CPU box, chin resting on an open palm. His gaze betrays hints of smugness to it.

You eye him weirdly. With a huff, you turn back to your typing.

–

You’re cooking dinner—with Sylus supervising the entire thing like your very own personal sous chef. Something that has now been the norm for you two, since your–banging!–success with the tofu dish.

And for tonight’s menu: Butter noodles. Simple, foolproof, straightforward.

"Simple" is… well, it’s not entirely inaccurate. But the way that the boiling water hisses angrily through the small lid hole wavers the already shaky foundation of your developing culinary confidence.

(Just a little bit! You’re sure you’ve got nothing to worry about.)

A faint burning scent clings to the air; you forgot to stir the garlic early on, and now it looks dangerously close to a char. You rescue it just in time, cursing under your breath. Your sous chef, of course, catches everything. Even your nervousness.

“You know,” Sylus chimes in, watching the wooden spatula tremble in your hand. “This is quite the step up from your usual instant noodle packets. You should be proud of yourself, sweetie.”

“Gee, thanks. Really complex work for an extra half-hour of cooking time,” Your words are snide, but he doesn’t miss the way your grip on the spatula tightens ever-so-slightly. Steadies.

The smell stabilizes. You add half a stick of butter, squashing it to a melt, and he lets the subject drop—for now.

“Do you have siblings?”

“I have an older sister,” you answer distractedly, stirring the sauce and trying to scrape the edges of the sauté pan without having it splatter from the inside.

“How much older?”

“Uh—six years,” you reply, reaching for a pinch of salt. “She's got a family. Two kids. Another on the way.”

“Hm. You two are close?”

You pause, the question landing softly in the haze of rising steam. “I mean. S’ alright, I guess. We catch up over the phone sometimes.”

“Ah. Good.”

“... Yeah.”

You catch a glance of his expression in your peripheral, looking thoughtful.

It’s a recent development, his curiosity. Sporadic at first, like light rain on a windshield—little questions scattered here and there, easy to brush off. But over the past week, it’s grown into something more unrelenting. It’s almost as if you two were playing a round of twenty questions, only it’s just you in the hot seat being interrogated.

There’s also that habit of his to take it one step further. Hedging his questions strategically, acting like he already knows the little factoid he wanted to ask and just needs you to confirm it.

You don’t really get the logic behind it, but hey, who are you to judge? Everybody has their quirks. Even someone of his caliber, apparently.

… God forbid he gets blindsided by something he’s genuinely surprised to know about you, though.

“You know how to play the violin.”

You pause the video you’re watching on your laptop at its five minute mark to stare at Sylus through your phone screen. He sounds… terse? Like you’d intentionally kept this a secret from him.

“Wha—yes, I know how to play the violin,” you huff, incredulous by the show of attitude. “What’s up with all these weird questions?”

“You’ve given me explicit permission to ask them. Level the playing field,” he reminds you, eyes slightly accusatory. “What else are you keeping from me?”

You groan, collapsing onto your back on the couch. “Ugh, I don’t know,” you say sarcastically. “Do you wanna know my time of birth too?”

“Born at exactly twelve twenty-eight PM,” Sylus recites without missing a beat, his voice bored and unimpressed. “I saw it on your Co-Star app, sweetie.”

You freeze.

“…”

“That’s creepy,” you tell him, tone disapproving, giving him a scolding poke on the nose.

“Call it thorough research,” he counters smoothly, rolling his eyes at your feeble attack. “After all, a stubborn kitten’s been slacking on her side of the deal.”

The questions are, for the most part, harmless in nature. Anchored firmly in the mundane. He doesn’t stray too far from what’s comfortable, or what he deems safe to ask. And yet you can sense it beneath the surface: the burning curiosity. To know more of you, to take what he could—piece by piece, until he’s unraveled the puzzle of you entirely.

And you don’t get it. His world—filled with endless adventure, lore, and literal fucking superpowers—surely has to be more exciting than anything you’ve got to offer. What’s your life compared to that?

You said as much to him, mostly as an offhand comment. Although it did feel slightly more earnest when you put it into words, compared to how it sounded in your head.

“Honestly, Sy-Sy. Life here’s really not that interesting compared to all the stuff going on over there,” you told him matter-of-factly, in the middle of collecting your daily rewards. “You don’t have to keep this up, you know.”

Sylus didn’t speak for a moment. The easy nonchalance he wore so well shifted into something more reserved, almost somber. He didn’t challenge what you said, nor did he affirm anything—you're met with silence, loaded with thoughts unspoken.

“Don’t presume things on your own, little dove,” he said after a while, his voice low, a gentle reprimand.

Before you could even process what he meant by that, he smoothly changed the subject, his tone reverting back to his usual effortless calm as if to ease the weight of your words. “Now then, let’s circle back—what were you saying earlier? You almost drowned in a lake when you were eight? Because of a dare you made with your sister?”

And that was the end of it.

You tell yourself it’s exhausting—the way he keeps digging, prodding, asking questions like you’re worth the level of fascination he’s making you out to be. But there’s also the truth, hidden and tucked beneath your half-hearted protests, slowly unfurling. A part of you—cautiously hopeful, dreadfully fragile—that preens under the weight of his scrutiny.

So you let him press further; let him sift through twenty plus years of tiny, unremarkable fragments of your life like a beachcomber seeking treasures amongst the tide. And in return, he gives you his full attention, undivided and unyielding, as if your answers are the only ones that matter.

––––

He tells you there’s a new tête-à-tête feature in the game, so you check it out—not without giving him a slightly suspicious look.

“A microphone feature?” You snort, leveling him with a half-amused glare. “You already hear me talk all the time.”

Sylus blinks at you, his face a guilefully-crafted mask of innocence. “I’m just giving you the option, sweetie. You know, in case you’d like to put our conversations ‘on record.’”

“Treat you like some kind of… quasi-therapist or something? An online confessional?” You give him the stink eye. “Is that what you’re angling for now?”

He shrugs. “If it helps.”

You had no intention of using the tête-à-tête “feature” you’ve been so graciously offered, quickly dismissing it as just another one of his tactics to show off his capacity to manipulate the game’s code, or something along those lines.

It’s not the first time he’s done it.

But then, midnight comes on a deceptively ordinary Friday, and it’s suffused with an all-too familiar feeling of utter emptiness that drowns you. You’re crumpled on the toilet seat like chewed-up gum, knees pulled to your chest—the day’s wounds still festering. It's not anything new, but it leaves you feeling like shit all the same.

Yet another overtime shift. Yet another argument with your mom, over fuck all you know that you’re too damn old for, but still, still, finds its way to cut deep. Over and over, and over again.

Your phone’s blank screen stares back at you, just as mute and useless as the rest of the night. And you—

“Sweetie?”

You can’t speak. Not yet. But you don’t have to. One look at the exhaustion on your face is enough for Sylus to know exactly what you need.

Your mouth trembles open, then shuts again. He doesn’t say anything else, just waiting for you to make the first move. To start whenever you’re ready.

After a long moment, you finally exhale a shaky breath. That’s when you catch his gaze; fixed, patient, almost... encouraging. It’s a subtle invitation, urging you to take the plunge, to make use of him to an extent only he can provide–the only one he could offer to you at this time–

So, you talk. Tentatively at first, the words slipping out like droplets from your leaking sink faucet. But once the dam breaks, you can't stop.

It spills out. Every frustration, every ache, every moment that feels too much to carry for one person, especially for someone like you, and he… he just—

listens.

You feel drained. Every ounce of energy wrung out of you after unloading the day’s weight to your unexpected confidant.

“That helped, didn’t it?”

If it were anyone else—or if you didn’t know Sylus the way you do now—you’d only catch the smug notes in his voice. The teasing lilt and the airy pretense of someone trying to ease the heaviness out of the room.

But you do hear it. Beneath the surface, woven so subtly into the words… something vulnerable.

You hear the unspoken question behind it: he’s genuinely asking if it helped. If his presence, however small or inconsequential it might seem, was enough to pull you back ashore.

I helped.

Tell me I did.

“You did, Sy.” Your grin is tired, grateful, and a little lopsided. But it’s real. “Thank you.”

For a moment—just a split of a second—the red in his eyes betrays something achingly raw.

“Anytime, darling,” he says, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges, like it’s carrying more than the words themselves. “I mean it.”

And like a beacon of light slicing through the storm-tossed seas of your mind, you realize that he truly does.

____

You start giving Sylus the reins to select the music, trusting his taste enough to let him DJ for you. He picks the soundtrack for everything—cooking, errands, long rides—filling the silence with something that he knows the both of you would like.

The playlists grow. From one, to two, to almost an entire collection of carefully curated tracks to suit the mood and vibe of the day. He takes it seriously—so seriously that you can’t resist sneaking in a Megan Thee Stallion track onto his precious “Slow Evenings” playlist.

He finds it hilarious. Hilarious enough to loop Kitty Kat for all sixty-five minutes of your commute back home.

You laugh despite yourself. It’s exactly the type of shit you know he’d pull as petty retribution, already intimately familiar with his brand of humor. And if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine him beside you, sharing an earbud, smirking as he revels in your exasperation.

____

One night, you notice a weariness in his eyes. It’s an odd enough thing to see that it leads to a discussion on what he’s been up to as the shadowy leader of a notorious faction, deep in a lawless part of his universe.

“Just an operative gone wrong, sweetie,” he says with a sigh, rubbing a temple as though trying to physically push the stress away. “It happens.”

You press him on the details of the botched deal—and maybe, just maybe, a small part of you is excited to live vicariously through the tale. But it’s not about you this time, you remind yourself. So you listen as Sylus indulges every question you throw at him, giving you the play-by-play: what the deal was for (special, hard-to-get protocores), where the trade-off occurred (west of Charon), and how it all went sideways (he knew it was a set-up the moment he walked into the venue).

You don’t really know how to comfort him in a situation like this, but you want to try.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you joke, “Can you imagine clumsy, ol’ me there? I’d be dead before I even make it inside.”

Sylus freezes, his expression going still. Unreadable.

“No, you won’t.” He says in response to the second part of what you just said, his tone brooking no doubt. He says it with such intense conviction that you almost believe this exact hypothetical has already crossed his mind—more than once.

I won’t let you.

Before you can even think of what to say, he adds, quieter this time, but no less convinced: “And yes—I can.”

It’s a direct answer to your question, and it makes the words die in your throat. His voice is softer now too, but there’s no mistaking his tone. It has the same conviction from before, and it hits you that he’s had time to ruminate on this thought—more times than he’d care to admit.

And I do. You have no idea.

____

There’s another shift in the dynamic of your, well, relationship.

“Did you hear what I said, poppet?”

You snap back to meet his inquiring gaze, unwavering as always.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?” You ask, the apology clear in your eyes.

He huffs, shaking his head in amusement—always patient, never annoyed—at your inattentiveness. “What’s on your mind, my sweet?”

Well. That.

Lately, Sylus has gotten into the habit of using possessive pronouns like they’re nothing. There’s also a notable increase on the variation of pet names too, each one more layered than the last.

It’s a little excessive, honestly. Like he’s trying to compensate for something—or maybe he sees it as just another natural step in whatever’s going on between you two. You’re still not sure what exactly goes in his head. He’s always been an enigma to you.

And yet, you never put a stop to it. How could you?

Little dove. Sweet girl. My darling.

When it comes off his lips like sunkist honey—each one brings a jolt straight to your heart.

You're quite partial to one in particular.

My love.

____

“Oh, my love,” Sylus tuts, feigning concern. “You’ve snoozed that alarm five times already.”

You groan, hitting the snooze button again—number six now—burying your face in your arms on the desk.

____

You’re attending a despedida party for a friend who’s flying abroad to study (For a PhD in Biomedical Science! You couldn’t be more proud.) and the venue’s going to be at The Penthouse, somewhere fancy up north. It even has an infinity pool on deck, something the celebrant dropped into the group chat with far too much enthusiasm.

So, earlier today, you’d ventured out to buy something nice for yourself. Nicer than what you have in the closet, which isn’t much of a stretch. Something different than your usual rotation of plaids and band shirts—not that there’s anything wrong with them. They’re just… you. Comfortable. Predictable. Not exactly the dress code for a rooftop soirée.

Now, you’re back home from a successful (!) trip to the mall, bags in hand: a small gift for your friend on one arm and a much larger shopping bag on the other.

You set the gift gently on the coffee table. Then, you head to the bathroom, the grosgrain ribbon of a paper tote held tight in your fist.

The pretty fabric caught your eye almost immediately, the moment you saw the garment; its sheen almost like woven liquid in the light. It felt like a risk, even on the rack. But under the unforgiving glare of your bathroom bulb?

Well, now, it’s looking less of a “bold choice,” and more along the lines of: “damn, what were you thinking?”

It’s not that big of a deal or anything. You like feeling pretty. But at the same time, you haven’t deluded yourself into thinking that you’re anything above average to look at, even on the nicest occasions.

It’s something you’ve grown used to, a definitive truth ingrained deep in your bones. You know this—like you know gravity tethers you to the ground, even when you’d rather be carried by the wind. You’ve gone through more than a decade to accept it as just another fact of life, to make peace with the reflection staring back at you from the bathroom mirror.

Even if it means you’ll never be on the receiving end of ‘interested’ glances from strangers on the street. Or that you’ve never known the feeling of someone doing a double take when they see you at your best, all dolled-up. More than once, you’ve sat across from dates whose eyes wandered—toward some other, someone better-looking, in restaurants, at parks, even outside the movies. Everywhere past your direction.

But that’s okay. You’re used to it, the same way you’ve grown used to everything else.

And still, there’s that impulse—a sudden need for someone else’s opinion. Someone close. Someone that matters.

There’s a pang of fear you can’t quite shake. You hear the small voice from the deep recesses of your mind, whispering to you that it’s one of your worse ideas. That you’ll fall short of any and all expectations, and that it’ll hurt more this time around. You’ll hear the polite, “you look nice” and you’re gonna have to live with the quiet certainty that you don’t, not really, and that you’ll never quite measure up to what he’s used to seeing. To her—

You swallow hard. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you. Not outwardly, at least.

And if he did… Well.

“I bought something,” you say as an opener, the words tumbling out in a rush as soon as you get a glimpse of his form on the screen. You’re rocking back on your heel, a little awkward as you stand there in front of your small vanity table even with your phone laid flat, front camera pointing upwards. “You remember the going-away party I’ll be attending two days from now, right?”

“Of course, the one for your secondary school batchmate.” Sylus replies easily, voice reverberating through the tinny speakers. Even at an angle, you can see the confused tilt of his head. “Is it on the ceiling, sweetie? What am I looking at, exactly?”

“No, smartass. I—” You press your lips together, eyes flitting upward, as if courage might be dangling from the ceiling in question.

Fuck, this is a bad idea. I can’t do this.

“It’s–I bought something for myself. I mean, I bought her a gift too, obviously. But I also bought an outfit. For the party.”

There.

He blinks, and you can almost see the gears turning in his head. Realization dawns on his face, a knowing smile beginning to form. His voice dips, a teasing edge to it as he purrs, “Oh? Well then, save me from the suspense, sweetheart.”

“I–I’m getting to it, okay?” It comes out a little snappier than you intend, nerves flaring hot. You sigh, feeling your shoulders drop. “I’m just… Don’t be—ugh, just don’t make a big deal out of this, alright?”

You keep your eyes off the screen, unable to face him directly.

But when he speaks, his tone carries only a quiet understanding of your struggle.

Of course he understands. He always does.

He speaks; and it’s slow and measured—as if he’s coaxing a terrified, cornered animal out of hiding.

“Show me.” Trust me.

And so with a heavy exhale through the nose, you flip the front camera towards your direction, revealing the bare expanse of gooseflesh skin—

… And the flimsy one-piece that clings to your body like wet plastic.

It dips low between the valley of your breasts and stops short just halfway up your thigh. The material is a gauzy organza; see-through and light, in seafoam green. Barely leaving anything to the imagination as it reveals the dusky coral swimsuit from underneath the fabric and the hot flush that spreads across your chest like wildfire. Your fists clench and unclench behind your back – hiding the physical manifestation of your rising anxiety – while you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

There's a deafening silence.

The knots in your stomach grow tighter, creeping its way past your lungs. Your fingers tremble as cold sweat breaks out across your skin, chilling you from the inside. You feel horribly exposed. So exposed it’s almost unbearable.

And you still can’t bring yourself to look at him.

Your thoughts stumble, desperate to cling to anything solid, and a faint memory surfaces—a passage from an org pamphlet you’ve skimmed through back in college, something that has to do with “self-perception.”

The flesh does not define you.

Your body is but a facet of who you are. You are as inconsequential as the earth beneath your feet, and as important as stardust in the universe.

A low, guttural sound cuts through the stillness, and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You—

“Look at me.”

A searing heat laces the cadence of his voice. It sounds restless—like a flame unchecked, rapidly growing into a raging inferno. Stifling in the way it pulls the air from your lungs, like a suckerpunch to the gut.

Your primordial instinct is to flee. But right at that very moment, you're no different from a paralyzed insect caught in an inescapable web with the way you’re stood frozen in place. Every instinct to run is smothered by the mere inflection in his voice.

—are all. And that is all there is to be.

“My sweet little dove,” it’s almost a croon, the way the words curl around you like wisps of smoke. Sickly saccharine… downright serpentine. “Won’t you look at me when I talk to you?”

And like a marionette on a string, you obey.

Time seems to stop to a standstill the moment your eyes meet his.

Sylus’ gaze sinks into you. Loaded. Heavy. A crazed glint, almost—to it. Even to someone like you who's embarrassingly clueless about the nuances of attraction and wholly inexperienced in its depths can see it as plain as day.

Carnal desire. In its purest form.

Sylus looks at you as though you’re something to be coveted. Devoured.

A small, fearful noise slips past your lips, and the twin crimson flames burn brighter.

“You’d like to know what I think?”

Yes.

No?

He sees the war in your eyes, and a throaty chuckle escapes him—raw and breathy. “Maybe so?”

You give him the tiniest nod, and the grin on his face sharpens into something wanton, something far more licentious. It slinks in like a fever, stirring something deep within you. Something as old as time.

Sylus opens his mouth.

You brace yourself for the inevitable.

A ring slices through the room like a hot knife. Just like that, you can breathe again.

____

Your saving grace comes in the form of a phone call that grounds you back to reality.

It’s a friend, one of the party guests, asking for directions to the venue. You’re listening with one ear on the receiver, answering each question robotically—your voice a controlled calm on the surface, a stark contrast to the thoughts running amok inside your head.

The words blur into background noise, muffled and distant, like a TV commercial playing on low volume in another room.

The moment you hang up, a suffocating hush swallows the room whole. You’re left alone with nothing but heat kindling low in your gut. The ghost of the heavy exchange from earlier stays with you, thrumming beneath your skin, hot and pulsating.

You don’t know what to do with yourself. The abrupt suddenness of it all gnaws at you, its weight driving you toward an early retreat—maybe a long night’s rest will do wonders and help you get your shit together, who knows.

You slip between the sheets... but not before retrieving your, ah, trusty little companion from its hiding spot in the bedside drawer.

You didn’t want to assume… You don’t want to expect anything from him, but you have needs.

God, but you do.

Your body feels like flint struck against steel, sparked ablaze by just a handful of words. Words weaved into a vivid imagery from the mouth of your… friend??

(Something more?)

The uncertainty wrecks you, every nerve alight with tension. And yet it’s the same uncertainty that roots you there. Hesitating.

So. You lie back, pushing the sheets away from your fevered skin, and just—lay there. Staring at the ceiling. The plaster cracks form maps you trace with your eyes, as if searching for answers in their tangled routes. You count your breaths, one after the other, as though the repetition could calm your racing heartbeat.

It feels ridiculous, almost. You’re a grown adult, acting like a teenager with a demented crush. It’s more than that, though—it’s deeper, messier, and completely illogical.

But it’s not something you can figure out tonight, not in this state. So you stop trying.

Instead, you switch on your little toy, open an incognito browser, and let yourself succumb to what your body’s been screaming at you for the past fucking hour.

You feel… You feel weird about using anything Sylus-related to get yourself off. That’s not to say you haven’t, before, back when he was just another eye candy from a measly mobile game. When it was just another infatuation.

But now? Now it feels all levels of wrong, like you’re toeing some invisible line. Worse, it feels like you’re exploiting something fragile, testing the limits of a bond already stretched thin.

So, any content related to that man stays off the fap fodder. You’re not that far gone. You think.

Instead, you scroll through your bookmarks tab, a shaky sigh leaves your lips as you let the hard vibrations of your trusty rabbit glide from inside your thighs, up… up to your warm center, in between the juncture of your legs.

You pause on a Toji smut fic—one amongst, uhh, dozens in your folder. It’s not the same, you know this, but you’re settling for the next best thing in your current circumstance.

Since what you really want, who you’d rather much have, isn’t—

…

Your phone glitches.

The Chrome app crashes.

And what do you think you’re doing?

Your heart stutters a beat, and you stop breathing.

You can’t answer. The words don’t come. But he doesn’t wait for you to try.

Put on your headphones.

You’re done with that. Tonight, tomorrow, any other night. Do you understand me?

The uncharacteristic curtness of the message sends a jolt through you, and a blush overtakes your entire body. You hesitate, just for a second.

Now.

You scramble to obey, fumbling for your earbuds, slipping them on with shaking hands.

The moment the bluetooth connects, the game boots up on its own—straight to an irate Sylus, looking royally pissed-off.

“Sy-Sy—” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “I—I don’t—”

"Oh, so back to Sy-Sy now, are we?"

The mocking lilt in his voice cuts sharper than the glare he fixes on your dimly lit face. Your mouth opens, then closes, words failing you entirely.

You want to explain, to defend yourself. To…

“I see what you read. What you watch,” he begins, voice cutting and mean. “In the dead of night, when you think you’re alone. When you think it’s safe. That no one hears the sweet moans spill so sinfully from your lips.”

His words pierce through the air like an arrow; you feel his overwhelming presence take over, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, every exhale grazing the sensitive shell of your ear.

“Oh, but I do,” he murmurs, the ambiguity in his tone somehow making it worse. “I hear everything. I know everything about you, kitten.”

A shiver races down your spine, your body betraying you as he speaks.

“What makes you tick,” he continues, his voice a sinister caress. “What leaves you writhing, desperate for more. The way your breathing quickens… the way your body trembles under the weight of your own pleasure.”

You’re struggling now—each breath harder to catch than the last.

“And the way that pretty little mouth of yours falls open in a silent gasp, right after you come undone.”

His words are a noose, tightening with every syllable. Your head spins as the air seems to grow heavier, saturated with the tension between you.

“But it’s never for me, is it?”

“I—I’m sorry… I don’t want to assume—”

“Assume?” His voice darkens, any hint of softness replaced with something colder, harsher. “Again with your presumptions.”

He leans closer, his tone dropping to a command that leaves no room for doubt. “From now on, the only thing you’ll need to believe is when I tell you you’re mine.”

You blink at him dumbly. His grin turns into something wicked—caustic and biting—as he cocks his head. Derisive.

“Do you understand?”

Your head bobs in a weak, reflexive nod.

“Words, poppet.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good.” His tone shifts, smooth like languid amber, yet no less imposing. “Now, my love,” he coos, savoring the way your eyes tear up with desperation, “show me how you touch yourself.”

____

“Shi–iit,” he hisses. “This wet already?”

You attempt to close your legs, shame rising like a tide, but freeze halfway when Sylus lets out a low, warning growl.

“Try that, and we’ll stop,” he warns. “I won’t repeat myself twice, pet.”

The weight of his words pins you in place, and you let out a helpless whimper.

“Don’t be afraid, sweet girl,” he murmurs, his tone gentler—coaxing. “It’s just me.”

His gaze burns into you, relentless, but something tender bleeds into it.

The glow of the screen casts shadows along the sharp angles of his jaw, the upward tick of his mouth a dangerous contradiction—part teasing, part command. His sanguine eyes gleam with a mix of hunger and control, a look that leaves no room for hesitation.

You give in.

Your body relaxes under the weight of his stare, the fight draining from your limbs. It’s not submission—it’s surrender, pure and unfiltered, the kind that leaves you bare and vulnerable.

Sylus watches you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Not soft, not kind, but triumphant—like a predator relishing the moment its prey stops running.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, the praise dripping from his tongue like honey. “That’s better.”

____

Sade’s Smooth Operator starts to play in the background as you catch your breath.

You let out a tired giggle, swiping a hand down your sweat-drenched face, earbuds still in place. “Ugh—don’t piss me off.”

You hear a resounding chuckle.

Gently, he asks, “Alright, little dove?” There’s a beat of hesitation before he adds, quieter now, “Did I go too far?”

You curl onto your side, phone clutched in your hand like a prayer. Sylus’ gaze peers back at you through the screen, a dangerously soft expression on his face that you don’t want to identify.

“It's perfect, Sy,” you say, your grin tender and bittersweet, heart full of something you won't name.

____

It’s one in the morning. The dim glow of your laptop screen flickers across your face, spilling into the darkened room, casting shadows along the wall. You lean back against it, the end credits of Everything Everywhere All At Once rolling quietly in the background.

Silence settles between you and Sylus like a warm blanket.

“Do you think it’s… like that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, unwilling to shatter the stillness of the moment. “All versions of ourselves colliding and coexisting at the same time?”

The question hangs there; he doesn’t rush an answer, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s choosing not to.

When he finally speaks, it’s with the same quiet restraint, his voice threading softly through the air.

“I’d like to think that in this vast expanse of the universe, there’s something for you and me.”

There’s a trace of something dreadfully optimistic in his voice, and it makes your chest tighten. You blink a few times, glancing upwards.

The moment lingers, delicate in its quietness, until you instinctively reach for your phone. A quick swipe reveals a new addition to your shared playlist.

This Is A Life by Son Lux and Mitski.

A small, genuine smile tugs at your lips as you press play. The haunting strains of the song pour into the room, filling the spaces words can’t seem to touch.

“Sneaky,” you murmur, your gaze sliding back to Sylus’ face on the screen. His expression is unreadable, save for the faintest twitch of his mouth, the barest hint of a smile.

“Thought it fit the mood,” he says simply.

And it does. The music sweeps over you, soft and wistful, like the moment itself.

____

The balcony feels like a lifeboat drifting away from the chaos inside. The music, the chatter, the endless parade of tequila shots—it all fades to a dull hum as you step into the cool night air.

Out here, the world feels wider, the sky a little darker, and you can breathe without choking on the weight of the party.

She’s already there, of course. The friend of a friend. An acquaintance by definition, but someone who feels more of a comrade in these fleeting moments away from the crowd. You’ve seen her like this most times—leaning on the railing, a cigarette perched between her fingers, its faint ember glowing against the night. You don’t need an invitation to approach her.

“You mind if I bum one?”

She shrugs, silently offering the box to you. You take one.

“Fun party, huh?” you comment after two puffs, the lit end of the stick briefly catching the glow of the skyline. Your voice is loaded with the kind of irony only shared by those watching the world from the outside in.

“It always is with them around,” she snorts, rolling her eyes in fond exasperation. Her voice carries the warmth of familiarity, from an observation you’ve both shared before.

You exhale a soft laugh, the sound barely audible over the low hum of the city below.

The silence that follows isn’t just companionable—it’s necessary. A pause to recalibrate, to let the noise, and the lights, and the weight of too many people melt away. Neither of you feels the need to fill it. Words would only dilute the reprieve.

And then, unexpectedly:

“You look happy.”

The words land like a stone dropping into still water, rippling through the quiet. You glance at her, startled by the way her eyes narrow slightly, the way her tone suggests she’s already drawn her own conclusions.

“You ‘ave someone?”

You weren’t ready for that. You blink at her, surprised she’s noticed anything about you—surprised, too, that it’s written plainly enough for anyone to notice.

“...Yeah,” you mumble, looking away. The admission feels strange in its simplicity. “Yeah, I do.”

She smiles at that—easy but genuine, as if your happiness has spilled over and warmed her, too. “That’s good.”

There’s sincerity in her voice, unfiltered and direct, as she adds, “You look happier.”

You don’t reply, but her words settle somewhere deep, in the quiet places you thought were hidden.

And for once, you don’t mind being seen.

____

The party has left you drunker than you’ve been in ages.

As soon as the celebrant spots the two of you in the corner looking like a sad pair of eyesores, she quickly remedies it with copious amounts of stone-cold stingers. You try to protest, but in the end, it’s futile against the cacophony of cheers and the face of societal peer pressure.

So now you stagger inside the condo building, looking every bit like a drowned rat dragged in from the storm. A weary guard from reception following closely behind, his patience visibly fraying as you giggle your way toward the elevator.

“‘m fine!” you insist, words slurring together as you attempt to shoo him off with a lazy wave. To emphasize your point, you pinch your fingers together, holding them inches apart. “Just this much to drink, see?”

He doesn’t respond, his expression coming across resigned and frustrated. You can almost hear the thought running through his mind: I don’t get paid enough for this.

With a long-suffering sigh, he finally relents, letting you totter into the elevator alone.

UG… P… 4…. 5…… Oh! Here you are.

Rivulets of water drip down from your rain-soaked hair, trailing icy paths down your neck as you stagger down the narrow hallway. Your vision blurs, making everything double—no, triple—as you fumble your way to the left, stopping in front of the door of 601—wait, no, 603.

You squint hard at the numbers, your head throbbing with the effort, but the stinging in your eyes and the stubborn clumping of your lashes make it way harder for you to make sense of it all.

Your waterlogged clutch feels heavier than it should, and your trembling fingers struggle to find the zipper pull that’s somehow become the bane of your existence. You huff, muttering incoherently to yourself, your throat tight and raw as a burning lump starts to rise. An annoyingly persistent buzzing from inside your bag adds to your mounting frustration.

With an angry yank, you finally manage to tear the bag open, water splashing off it in tiny droplets.

“Aha!” you exclaim, though the triumph is short-lived as your hands shake even harder when you pull out your phone. It’s the source of the buzzing apparently, the bright screen momentarily blinding you.

You try to unlock it—once, twice, three times—nearly getting locked out before the numbers finally click.

The notifications hit you like the mars lights of a freight train. Texts. Lots of them. You scroll through clumsily, the device slipping slightly from your grip as you snort gracelessly.

Sylus. Of course.

The words on the screen blur and twist, but you don’t need clarity to know the progression of each message—ranging from mild curiosity, to slight worry, to exasperatedly concerned.

The syllables of his pet name echo faintly in your muddled head, a small, fleeting comfort against the weight pressing down on your chest. Sy-Sy. Sy-Sy. Sy-Syyyyy—

Synchronous with your erratic breathing, you dig through your bag with a heavy hand, each failed attempt sends you spiraling lower.

Another ping jolts you from your drunken haze:

How are you feeling? Did you just get back?

“I can’t—I can’t find my damn keys!”

The words slips out as a frustrated cry.

Inner pocket, left side. Answer me, sweetheart.

His words flash across the screen just as your fumbling fingers find the keys exactly where he said they’d be.

A tear burns a path down your cheek as you let out a half-hearted chuckle, mumbling, “Can I even function without you?”

How long has it been since you could manage something like this on your own? Has he become an extension of your mind?

The door’s stubborn resistance only adds to your unraveling. After several failed attempts—your fingers too wound up to grip the key properly—you finally twist the lock and push it open, stumbling inside, into the darkness.

“I’m a mess, Sylus,” you whisper, voice thick with tears as your head spins, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

The world feels heavy and muffled, like you’re trapped behind a fogged window. You know you’re a sight to behold—shoeless, drunk, drenched like some stray that wandered too far into the rain.

“I’ve noticed,” he says, his voice warm and steady, cutting through the quiet void of the room. It takes a second for the words to sink in, for your scattered mind to piece together that, somehow, you’ve already opened the game in the middle of all your fumbling. Automatic. Like second nature.

You stare at him, trembling and pitiful, like a kid lost in a crowd. Your bottom lip quivers, and you hate how small you feel under his gaze.

You see concern pooling in the depths of Sylus’ eyes. That and something… desperate.

You sniff, rubbing at your wet cheeks with pruning fingers, clinging to humor like a lifeline. "Don’t you do anything else?” you mumble, your voice fraying at the edges. “Like... live your own life or something? You spend so much time with me...” You force out a weak laugh, bitter and jagged. “It’s a miracle you haven’t gotten sick of me yet.”

Your laugh cracks halfway through, more like a sob than anything. It’s pathetic—you’re pathetic.

And yet, you can’t stop. Even if it stings your throat.

Sylus’ response comes, and his voice is solid—unwavering. He doesn’t flinch like you do. “I don’t get sick of you, sweetheart. Not in the slightest.”

Something in you cracks, spilling over. “I really like you,” you murmur, voice steeped with emotion. “You’re the brightest light in my life. You’re… you’re everything.”

A flash of lightning cuts through the room, illuminating your tear-stained face.

And for the first time since you’ve known him, Sylus calls out your name.

It’s quiet, reverent, and it feels like a tether pulling you back from the brink.

You crumple down the floor, clutching your phone like it’s the only thing holding you together. In the silence that follows, all you can hear is your ragged breathing and the quiet hum of his presence on the other end of the line.

“I’m here,” he tells you softly. “I’ve got you.”

____

This is a life

(Every possibility)

Free from destiny

(I choose you, and you choose me)

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @nicora04 @blueberrysquire @love-anteros @fiyori @peachystea @slyfoxtsu @tinyweebsstuff @i2sannie (i spend so much time cross-checking the tags this is tiring lmao)

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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schlattslonghairytoes · 4 months ago

Text

pictures and pizza📸 🌃 🌹

personal assistant reader x boss schlatt

schlatt forgets something important. again. how will he make it up to you?

working for schlatt was easy

getting every thing done meant you guys could kinda just hang out

you two were getting along great, you were basically friends, except you cooked for him, cleaned, and kept his schedule moving

and you were beginning to love it

but not everything can be perfect

there was one thing about schlatt that was very hard to deal with

schlatt is really fucking stubborn and no diss, a bit lazy

like omfg it was getting old

if he didnt want to do something, or better yet, didnt want to get out of bed!

there was no use, you had no chance of convincing him

but that is your job, and you were damn good at it

it was 10am, as that was the set time you and schlatt decided work began. he had gifted you a key to his apartment after one morning, where you had to call his little sister to let you in, you thought schlatt was dead.

he just fell asleep with headphones on.

anywho, you let yourself in and tidyed up the living room, because the night before schlatt promised you he would be up and ready at 10, he had an extremely important meeting at 11 that was kinda far.

like he could not miss this.

so you trusted him, you also hated barging into his room, it felt like a total invasion of privacy to you, schlatt didnt care when you did it, but to you it was the end of the world

so you waited.

and waited

until you knew he would not make it on time if he wasnt up.

so you mustered up all your courage and knocked on his door.

... silence

by then you gave up and opened the door, and oh lord if you werent mad at him it wouldve been the cutest thing youve ever seen

he was spread across his bed, limbs and blankets everywhere, and jambo and garlic bread (i am not writing REACTED every time.) were cuddled up on top of him. jambo curled up in his left arm, and garlic bread sprawled across his right leg

for a moment you forgot you were mad at him, he looked so handsome, yet so adorable, his mouth was open, and he was snoring softly, and honestly drooling a bit

you pulled out your phone and took a picture, wanting to make it your lockscreen but too scared he would see it. you hearted the picture in your camera roll before opening youtube

you connected your phone to his speaker in the room, and searched "morning bugle call" and hit play on full volume

jambo and garlic bread went flying off of schlatt as he sat up and slapped his hands over his ears "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT" you were wheezing on the floor at that point

when you finally stopped laughing you locked in and turned of the sound, then frowned slightly at him "up and at it, we were supposed to leave 30 minutes ago, you have 5 minutes to get ready. your outfit is picked and hung in the closet, lets go." and you shut his door and sat waiting on the couch

he was out in 4 minutes and 26 seconds. you handed him the breakfast you got him and made your way out the door silently.

"toots, im so sorry, i know i said i would wake up, i swear i set an alarm, c'mon dont be mad at me doll. i promise it wont happen again." he followed hot on your tail, almost chasing you.

like if someone saw they might be worried your about to be abducted.

you sighed and got in the drivers seat of your car, you wanted him to eat so you decided he could be the passenger princess for once

"schlatt this is the third time this week, im not mad, like this is literally my job, but it throws the whole day off, its whatever, eat your breakfast so you dont pass out at the meeting." the meeting was in new jersey and you didnt want to hear schlatts bitching the whole way

you turned up the music and hoped he would be quiet

schlatt on the other hand was rethinking his entire being

how could he let you down again, all he wants is for you to love and want your job, and hes already jepordizing that. for the span of the 30 minute car ride he hatched a plan.

after his four hour meeting he was drained, he waited to see your car pull up and get him, but you were taking an abnormally long time, he was getting worried

but those fears subsided quickly when he recived a text from you

"im gonna kms johnny. why the fuck did you have to have a meeting in new fucking jersey. traffic is insane, be there in 30 minutes pls dont die to a homeless man."

that certainly made him feel better, he searched for a near by store or cafe, but when he found a flower shop he knew that it was redemption time

you on the other hand wanted to throw yourself off of a freeway.

the traffic leaving the city to new jersey was insane, why on a thursday at 430 was traffic slower than joe biden falling off a bike? dont have the answer to that one

but this drive gave you time to think, it wasnt schlatts fault he had trouble waking up, and when traffic got so bad you could literally park, you went on amazon and bought him an alarm clock

one that will for sure wake him up, problem solved. now you could relax. night changes played on aux (rip liam 🥲) and you could think about the man you were ten minutes away from picking up

you opened your phone to see the picture from this morning, you decided so what if he sees, this picture ment the world to you, even though schlatt had been in your life for nearing a month, you knew he'd somehow be apart of it forever

schlatt stood outside of a coffee shop you told him to wait at, holding stuff that could possibly help fix his mistake.

when your car pulled up he started to get nervous, what if he got the wrong flowers, or they didnt make your coffee right, but those doubts melted away when your car came to a hault

you watched him open his door and hand you a large bouquet of flowers and a cold brew. overwhelmed at first you didnt realise what you were holding. you placed the cup into your cup holder and looked at the flowers infront of you

it was made up of roses, lilys, sweetpeas, carnations, alstroemerias, daphnes at the bottom you think?, ruscus, dusty millers, and eucalyptus.

you didnt even know this many pretty flowers existed, after placing the boquet on your lap, you reached over and threw your arms around schlatt

"johnny what is this!" you exclaim, voice muffled my his neck, suprised he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close

"thought you deserved a gift after i fucked up this morning" he sighs, whichmakes you pull away, but you place a hand on his cheek, slightly scratching his beard with your nails

"oh jay, i wasnt even really mad, this is the nicest thing anyones every done for me" you look at him in awe as he leans into your touch.

"yeah but i feel bad, m' gonna make it up to you, tonight your comin' over, were gonna watch 10 things i hate about you, play mario kart, and order pizza, dont ever let me break your trust again, sound good toots?" his smirk cut right through your heart

oh he looked so kissable right now

that night was spent cuddled up on his couch, playing wii games, forcing schlatt to watch rom coms, and stuffing your faces with pizza

he made you feel like you were in a rom com

that was only just beginning

#jschlatt #schlatt #john #youtube #jschlatt x reader #jschaltt #jschatt #jschlatt imagine #schlatty #schlatt imagine #schlatt x reader #pizza #newyork #chuckle sandwich #assistantxboss #schlattslonghairytoes #god i need him so bad #romcom #flowers

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byunpum · 2 years ago

Text

AVATAR MATERLIST

༄| A V A T A R |༄

R U L E: Any request is acceptable. Characters will always have their age increased if necessary. I accept:

Movie: Avatar 1 & 2.

Fluff | Angst | Smut | normal

I update this every time I have done a new work. If you want to support my work KO-FI

Series:

Experiment 56 [neteyam x human reader]

[ Y/N characteristics and fun facts]

Summary: Y/N is surprised that she is an indispensable part of the human race, being a perfect blend of Navi and humans. Her family will do everything possible to keep her hidden and safe.

Experiment 56 SEQUEL “your time is coming” [neteyam x human reader] *paused*

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

Summary: Y/N thinks she has a peaceful life with her new family. But a sudden visitor is about to change her life and her family’s life.

The New member [ Quaritch x human reader]

Summary: After the boat altercation with the sullys, and being able to make spider return with him to the base. General ardmore has a big surprise for quaritch. A new member will join her squad, this new person will not only change the RDA, but himself.

Do you hate me? [Tsu-tey x Human reader]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 final

Summary: You are the eldest Sully daughter, you are adopted. All your life you have grown up watching tsu'tey, and your feelings for him have grown. Everything changes when one day you go hunting with your crush.

I can be a better father {Tsu-tey x Child Y/N x Child spider]

Summary: Follow tsu'tey in his new life as a single father of two human children. A compilation of moments and adventures of their lives.

Ghost girl [Neteyam x Albino na'vi!fem x sully family]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5(final)

Summary: After their village was destroyed by humans, Y/N must seek refuge in the forest. Her being rescued by a peculiar family, she discovering that her gift had led her to them.

Mama's Boy [Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's x Lo'ak son]

Summary: Lo'ak is his mother's favorite child. After leaving the clan, and now living in clan metkayina. His only wish is that his mother is by his side again. The only problem is that his mother is a… human.

One-shots:

1. They caught us [neteyam x human reader] SMUT

Part 1 |Part 2 |Part 3 | Part 4

2. Little gifs [ Tsu'tey x human reader]

Part 1 | Part 2

3. The family’s Clothing [ Lo'ak x human reader]

4. Picnic in the greenhouse [Neteyam x Lo'ak x human reader] SMUT

5. A shy Y/N who doesn’t really show affection to neteyam. [Neteyam x human reader]

6. Loak and the reader take care of tuk. [Loak x Human or navi reader]

7. Reader fight with your brother loak, because he give tsireya your stuff. [Loak x human sister]

8. Neteyam does everything possible to help the sadness that Y/N feels.

9. Kiri and Y/N being twins, but Y/N has a curiosity about people in the sky.

10. Lo'ak x human/na'vi hybrid, Lo'ak lets his imagination fly.

11. Neteyam is obsessed with your chubby lover.

12. I am very sorry (Jake sully x Human daugther)

13. Use me [Neteyam x Human reader] (Smut)

14. Z-DOG she has something going on, and she doesn't know what it could be. Y/N may be able to help her.

15. Tsu'tey asks eywa for a perfect mate, eywa sends him a surprise.

16. Jealousy, damn jealousy (Neteyam x lo'ak x Human-mix reader)

17. Ao'nung save the reader from idiots (ao'nung x human reader-kiri twin)

18. Reader defending lo'ak from his father (lo'ak x human reader)

19. Quiet [Neteyam x Human-mix] (Smut)

20. Child human-reader is lost in the forest and some curious boys find her.

21. Tsa·zìskrrmipaw (Neytiri meeting us for the first time when we were newborn) Part 1 | Part 2

22. Hifwo (Neteyam x human reader)

Auntie Y/N sully series:

( The parts are organized, so that you can understand better)

1. Y/N being the best aunt

2.My lost child [ Aunt sully reader x Spider](Mother and son)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

3. More moments in the life of AUNT sully.

4. Aunt Y/N's nephews are jealous of her new mate and they do everything they can to keep them apart.

5.AUNT Y/N SULLY BEING THE ‘COOL ONE’ IN THE FAMILY.

6. AUNT Y/N SULLY BEING THE ‘COOL ONE’ IN THE FAMILY Pt.2

7. Auntie Sully: New tails, new family

8. Auntie Sully: New tails, new family (part 2)

Others moments:

1. Aunt Y/N has to say goodbye to her family.

2.Tuk and kiri find an object and run to ask their aunt Y/N.

3. Jake discovers that several Na'vi tried to court his sister.

4. Neytiri reaction will be when she found out Jake and Auntie Sully are actually triplets

5. How the sully family, more neytiri. React to aunt Y/N and jake share more moments being twins.

6. Auntie sully giving everyone pizza for the first time

Headcanons:

1. Neteyam being a baby daddy ft. sully family and quaritch {Neteyam x Human reader}

2. Aonung wants you to be his partner, but he is afraid you will reject him. {Aounug x human reader}

3. where y/n is trying to show off to the boys and fails miserably.

4. Loak being a good brother.

5. Kiri with her twin sister

6. Lo'ak in love with Y/N. Literally obsessed.

7. THE BEST FATHER I COULD BE [Lo'ak x human reader]

8. Rivals for lovers with Lo'ak

9. Jake and Y/N knew sign language and they both used it to just talk shit

10. React to a chubby reader [Neytiri, neteyam, lo'ak and jake]

11. Recoms being softies for thier medic Human-reader

12. Jake and neytiri holding the human reader like a teddy bear

13. Neteyam, Jake and Lo'ak how would they react if their partner playfully bites them

14. Your brothers and you (reader) react when you see a boy courting Tuk.

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paulyenvol6 · 5 months ago

Text

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 5)

Contains: Kissing, Mentions of smut, Daemon being a little invasive

Wordcount: ~2.23k

Masterlist of this story

"Your mother would have been outraged, how could you do this, Vhaela?" You dropped your gaze and closed your eyes.

"This was dangerous, irresponsible and stupid. You could have been hurt, raped, murdered, captured. I would never have thought that someone like you would do such a thing."

"I’m sorry, father. I really am." He rubbed his eyes and his hand tightly had grabbed his desk.

"You simply can’t do such things, daughter. I was so worried about you when I saw you were missing in the morrow."

"I will NEVER do it again, father. I promise. It was a mistake and I’m fully aware that I acted a fool." Your father walked towards you and pulled you into a hug.

"I can’t lose you, daughter. And I don’t want to ever see you hurt. I don’t even know how I’m gonna be able to let you go into marriage.", he chuckled. "I can’t let you go and give some lord the responsibility to protect you." He put his hands on your shoulders and watched you thoroughly. "You’re my sunshine, Vhaela and I fear that if I don’t protect you with all I have you're gonna get harmed."

You took his hand. "No father, I’m not. I’m not 10 anymore, I can look out for myself."

The King sighed. "I know. But it’s hard with you. I’m not saying that you’re… weak or anything. You’re made of fire, daughter, just like you’re sister. But I’ve always felt that you’re too pure and gentle for this cruel world." He patted your hand one last time and then walked to his desk.

"Ser Lawsen, send for my brother. I think he needs a reminder of what protecting his nieces means."

You froze and wanted to slap yourself. Now you had to watch Daemon getting shouted at for something he hadn’t done. You just hoped he would understand what this was about and play along as you hadn’t been able to tell him about the story you had invented yet.

The king’s guard nodded and left the room. Only a few minutes later the door opened again and Ser Lawsen dragged your uncle with him who authentically looked like as if he had just woken up. The guard pulled him in front of your father and then positioned himself by the door again. Daemon yawned loudly.

"Brother." Viserys walked towards him and roughly grabbed his upper arm. You could see in your uncle’s reaction that he was thinking. He didn’t know yet what the King knew and had to observe in Viserys‘ action to see if he had learned about a made – up story told by you or somehow managed to find out about the truth.

"I would’ve expected more of you, Daemon. She is a young girl and even though she was still inside the keep, you shouldn’t leave your niece alone in the dark. Dangers lie everywhere and you should’ve stayed with Vhaela and then escort her back inside to make sure she safely gets into her bed. Especially considering what she has done instead."

Daemon and your gaze met for the first time and he watched you with small eyes. "What has she done instead?", he asked. The king wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Vhaela sneaked in the city last night. Alone and without guards protecting her. She only just returned from her late night adventures."

"Mhmm.", his brother made and his eyes remained on you. "That’s unfortunate."

Viserys let out a grunt and loosened his grip on Daemon’s arm. "Ha, I should’ve known that you don’t find this in any way worrying." Your uncle raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms as well.

"Oh I do find it worrying. That’s no fine behaviour for a young Princess. After all I care about my nieces. Very much so."

Viserys rolled his eyes. "Brother. One day you’ll make me go crazy. If Vhaela won’t have done the job already." Your father looked at you meaningful again and for the first time you raised your voice.

"As I promised you already, I won’t ever do it again."

Viserys shook his head. "I had hoped that you, daughter would simply come after me. We shall see if your influence on her, Daemon has been too significant."

Daemon’s eyes remained on you and you could see a slight smirk on his lips, but then he looked at Viserys again and lowered his head. "Apologies, your grace. I’ll look after her better the next time."

Your father didn’t know what to say anymore and made a hand gesture that signaled him to leave. "Yes you will. Otherwise I…. Oh I don’t know, go now, brother."

Daemon's eyen now wandered to look at you again. His eyes glistened and his mouth changed to a grin. "Princess."

With these words your uncle turned around and left the room and you realised you had held your breath the last seconds. So you exhaled as quiet as possible while your father walked around in his chambers. "May I go now, father?" "Yes, yes. You can go as well."

So you left the room, went to your chambers as quickly as possible and tried to get a clear head at last.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later

It was a quiet night with the exact right temperature. The hours during daylight had been uncomfortably hot but now as darkness overshadowed the city, it was a pleasant evening.

You sat between your sister and your uncle at dinner and listened to the King discussing political matters with his hand, lord Niclas Tully and several other lords of the small council. You silently ate your salad and tried not to be distraced by your uncle’s presence right next to you. The last days you hadn’t seen him a lot. Obviously now that he was back in the city he had gone out to see a lot of friends and business partners who had welcomed him back so you hadn’t wondered about what he had been doing. But now you sat there next to him and it seemed like his mere presence lightened a fire in you. You had avoided his gaze and tried not to look at him a second too long. It was simply… odd for you after everything that had happened between you.

"So I guess that a marriage proposal would be appropriate. Vaegon shall be betrothed to Evya Tyrell to strenghten our houses‘ bond."

"I see it exactly the same way, your grace. Lord Colren will be pleased to see his daughter betrothed to a Targaryen after the fiasco with Maenor and Brune."

"Well… we have to speak about the Braavos situation now, your grace." "Oh not tonight, Lord Ellion."

"My king, they won’t accept the new borders. And our laws, in fact. They won’t accept our representants as their rulers."

You zoomed out again and focused on the lettuce leaf on your plate until Rhaenyra whispered to you.

"How much longer to you attempt to watch this leaf, sister?" You turned to her confused until you understood what she was talking about. You quickly speared the leaf with your fork and shoved it into your mouth. Rhaenyra watched you with raised eyebrows. "Are you quite alright, Vhae?"

"Yes. I’m simply exhausted and would like to go to bed soon."

"You know that father won’t let you. Not with the hand and the other lords attending tonight’s dining." You nodded and once again watched your plate. "I know."

You sat through the dinner though feeling not tired at all. You were tense and nervous but it only had to do with the person to your left. Then after every plate was empty and the guests held their fully bellys, Viserys stood up and smiled at the small group.

"Thank you all for this lovely evening. Lord Niclas, Ellion, Vamyx." The three lords lowered their heads and everyone got up while the King left the room.

One after one walked out not without greeting your sister, Daemon and you and then the three of you walked towards the door as well. You quickly looked at your sister and uncle and smiled softly.

"Good night, sister. Uncle." Then you turned around and headed to your chambers. It was dark in the corridors and only now and then the moon shined through a window. The only sound you heard were your steps on the stone ground and you felt peaceful like this. But then, suddenly you felt someone close behind you, wrapping an arm around your upper body and pulling you into a room. You wanted to scream but a hand was pressed on your mouth. For a moment you panicked but then…. You recognised the smell of the person and widened your eyes.

"Daemon.", you said against his hand but it was surpressed. Then he let go of you and you almost stumbled. You looked around trying to get some orientation and saw that he had pulled you into the small council chamber.

"Daemon, what - You can’t scare me like this." Your uncle smirked and came closer to you. "Forgive me, little owl. I simply didn’t want us to be seen together so I had to be quick." His hand connected with your cheek and he moved the hair out of your face.

"Daemon.", you whispered and put your hand on his‘. He took another step in your direction to push you towards the big table in the middle of the room. "Daemon, we can’t do this." His lips brushed over yours and your pulse rose.

"Mhmm.", he made and you held on to his hand to stop him from moving it down to your neck.

"Daemon.", you said a little louder and turned your head away from him so the kiss was interrupted. He stopped and brought a little more distance between your faces. "What’s wrong?", he whispered and caressed the sides of your face with both his hands.

"We can’t, Daemon. It was wrong to do it in the first place. I can’t repeat this sin."

Your uncle raised his eyebrows. "Pleasure.", he started speaking. "Is never a sin, little owl. Especially not when nobody is harmed in the action." He ran his thumb over your temple and watched you insistent. "What happens between a man and woman when they are intimate is meant to be beautiful. For both. It is not wrong or sinful, no, it is natural. You’re a woman now, little owl. You have the right to explore this kind of pleasure.", he whispered smugly.

You desperately looked up to him while he still held your face tightly in his hands. "But we’re not married. And I shouldn’t have done something like this, that’s only supposed to happen with one’s husband."

"Say it." You frowned. "What?"

Daemon slowly ran his thumb over your lower lip. "Say what we have done, byka atroksia (little owl)." You shook your head. "I can’t." He raised his eyebrows and got closer to your face again.

"Yes you can. Tell me what we have done three nights ago. In my bed chambers while your unknowing father celebrated my return only a few feet away."

You felt your hands shaking and pleadingly looked up to your uncle. "Please.", you mouthed inaudibly but Daemon didn’t give in. He merely pulled at you lower lip with his thumb and then went back to caressing your cheek.

"Go on. I want to hear you say it." You wanted to drop you gaze, look down to your feet and just escape Daemon’s piercing eyes but his hands holding your face forced you to look at him.

"Y-You…", you started and your uncle encouraginly nodded with lifted eyebrows. "You bedded me.", you whispered weakly and heard Daemon chuckle.

"Yes, that’s right." His mouth wandered to your right ear and he kissed you right next to it on your cheek. "I touched you. Licked your sweet cunt. And then fucked you."

You breathed heavily and felt your cunt clench around nothing. You wanted him so badly. How was he able to make you feel like this? How was he able to turn your into a mess in his arms so quickly? He was like fire, igniting your body every time he looked at you. He pressed kisses on your cheek and then down to your neck. You couldn’t help but grab his hair and felt your knees getting weak.

"We shouldn’t…", you whined with closed eyes and Daemon abruptly stopped kissing you and looked down to you with flashing eyes. His hand forcefully grabbed your chin.

"If you tell me right now you don’t want me, I will let you go.", he hissed angrily. "I don’t have any pleasure in fucking you if I continuously hear you say you want me to stop. So tell me if you want me to or not and if you want me to, I don’t want to hear another sound coming out of your mouth except my name while I pleasure you."

You felt a little scared and looked up to him with big eyes. His fingers dug into your skin and he didn’t let you out of sight for one second.

You obviously had already made your decision and even though you knew you would regret it, you weren’t strong enough to do the right thing.

"I want you, Daemon.", you breathed and his eyes glistened with lust.

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mushroomates · 6 months ago

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the fellowship and if i’d punch them in the face and likelihood of me doing so:

note: i have punched people in the face exactly two (2) times in my life. once when we were kids i decked my sister on the trampoline and most recently i hit a friend in my sleep when reaching for my alarm in a dazed state. the likelihood of me punching anyone in the face, intentionally and maliciously is very, very slim.

frodo: no. if i would not punch most people and frodo is a representation of “most people” i cannot see myself punching him. also i feel as if any disagreements would be felt verbally and swiftly, and an agreement would be met rather quickly. he seems like a reasonable guy. 3/10 i do not feel as though it would happen or that if given the chance i would proceed

sam: no. is a really good friend and person. least punchable out of the hobbits and i feel like if we’d got in a fight it would end up with dirt being flung at each other not punches. worse case scenario i feel like if we really got into it it would be passive aggressive or cast-iron based bludgeoning. 2/10 would not harm a hair on this man’s toes

merry: no. he has little cousin energy- i’d give him a noogie and pinch his cheeks but never sock him in the face. i could see us roughhousing and maybe even exchange blows but in the face? nah. just look at the little guy. i love his lopsided lil smirk. 4/10 limited fisticuffs, nothing serious

pippin: yes. he seems like he needs a good face full of knuckles and who am i to deny him. especially when he was younger. i like the dude but it just seems like something that would happen. im sure gandalf would slip me a pocket full of coins after. 8/10 would clobber this fellow

legolas: yes. almost certainly. would i get shot to shit by a million arrows? oh absolutely, but that would not stop me. i’m going at that man like a balrog out of moria. i don’t know why exactly i want to punch this pretty boy so bad but i know i do. 9.5/10 would punch again

gimli: no. one of least punchable of the fellowship in my eyes- one, because he would absolutely body me if i so much as raised a hand and two because i would never. he’d have to say some pretty insane shit to even get me to consider. 1/10 no jabs ever exchanged

gandalf: maybe. it can go either way. on the one hand, he is an immortal demi god who has been through hell and back so what’s one more fist to the face- on the other hand he takes the form of a grandpa which means i’d have a harder time mentally. however i’m naturally predisposed to punching wizards so given the right opportunity, yes. 5/10 chance of slugging

aragorn: no. he’d drop kick me to valinor before i could even raise my fist. also, he just seems like a chill guy. i feel like the only possible reason id ever even consider fighting this man is if i needed to die honorably very quickly and by a noble hand or if i had a chance at winning arwens hand, like a joust for the princess of sorts. i’d still lose, though. 2/10, id absolutely miss any hit thrown his way. complete biffage.

boromir: no. i’d let this man punch me and thank him for it. he is a fundamentally like able dude. how could i harm this beautiful man, a single father of two full grown adult hobbits. i just have so much love for him in my heart that i can’t even imagine raising a hand against him. 0/10 will not lay a finger on this lovely large lad.

gollum: yes. id punt this little bastard across mordor in my sleep. unprovoked. i hate his crust nails and his black hole of a loincloth. i feel bad for him, sure, but not bad enough to stop me from giving him a good ol fashioned wallop. 12/10 im gonna beat him up with my own two handsies, precious.

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wlwsoccerfics · 21 days ago

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Lifeline (BethMeadXVivMiedemaXMeadReader)

AN: this Is Just my Personal experience. It can be very different for someone else.

Warnings: Teen Character is autistic, this includes some personal experiences with autism. Short OS.

You knew you could always count on Beth & Viv. These two were your Safe space. Beth was your older sister so that's why you could always count on her & Viv came into both of your lives making both of you feel really loved.

Viv & Beth both were really protective of you. If people didn't knew better they would probably think they were your parents. Which was (kind of) true in a sense.

Your autism was diagnosed by the age of 10. So 5 years ago. You often get told that people don't notice you have autism when they see you. Which always resulted in you thinking that it was an odd thing to say. But then you remember you became quite good at masking.

People close to you, like your Viv and your Bethy, knew your routines and things you needed to do or needed to have to be comfortable. Other people that were close to you were Jill(Viv's fellow dutch teammate), Leah, Lessi, Kerstin(also one of Viv's fellow dutch teammate) & last but not least Wally.

You sat in your room doing your homework before you would leave for practice with Beth. You practiced with the Arsenal Senior Team alot. But also with the youth Team. Getting in as much practice as possible.

"Y/n, we have to leave soon! Are you ready?" your older sister asked you. You turned around in your Chair, nodding your head.

"Give me a few more minutes to finish this! I want this to be done now! Before practice starts! I always finish homework before practice!" You Tell Beth.

"I know you do, Love Bug!" Your sister replied. It's a Nickname she has given you when you were really little. And you very much liked it when Beffy or Viv called you that.

"I will be done soon!" You told her and you finished the rest of your within five minutes. So you grabbed your things and sat down in the passenger seat of Beths Car. You called Viv right away because you always did that on your way to practice and it was your ritual. It wouldn't be a good practice If didn't call her.

"Hallo liefje love!" You hear Viv say on the other side of the Phone. Her voice was always so welcoming and warm. She always managed to make you feel loved and welcomed.

"hey Viv. I finished all my homework before we left cause you know how important it is to me!" You informed her.

"I do know that! You always are quite fast though! I could never do that!" She told you. Beth was smiling, she loved the bond you had with Viv.

"oh Viv you are so smart and you could do it too! Everyone is different. I may be faster then you when it comes to this but that's okay. My brain is just wired differently!" You tried to explain.

"thank you for calling me smart, liefje love!" She answered and giggled softly. So did you. You knew by now that when people giggled at something you said that they weren't making fun of you. The people you knew and loved you could read by now.

"you are welcome. Did you sleep well? How are you feeling?" You wanted to know.

"i did sleep well. And i am great! Better now that my favorite Mead sister has been calling me!" She said, knowing Beth could hear her.

"hey! Excuse me?!" Beth replied, laughing though. You smile at that.

"i am fine with being the second favorite mead sister, as long as i am your favorite liefje love!" You let her know. Being serious about it. Cause you really loved the nickname.

"of course you are my favorite liefje Love! You are the one and only!" She explained. Sounding just as serious. She asked you how you were and you told her that you were good and excited for practice. You really missed having her at Arsenal though. It was a big change for you but both Viv and Beth made sure you didn't feel like something was missing. You talked on the Phone or Facetimed multiple times a day. So things were easier for you now.

When you arrived at practice you went to greet all the Girls individually, some of them you invented Handshakes with.

"how are you, little Meado?" Alessia asked. You smiled at her.

"i am good! Finished all my homework before we came here!" You proudly tell her.

"of course you did, you are the smartest on the Team!" Leah answered. You nodded your head in agreement.

"possibly. In a lot of things. But not all of them! Mostly just good at things that interest me!" You explained. Smiling gently.

Wally was smiling at that. She thought your rambling about certain topics was cute and she always said If she ever has Kids she hopes they are just like you.

Practice started and you were very focused on the drills. Enjoying them. Glad to have found a safespace with your sister and Viv and with the Team. They were your Lifeline.

#woso x reader #viv miedema x Beth mead & mead reader #arsenal women x reader #viv miedema x beth mead #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader

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crazykitsch · 1 year ago

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Heyyy can you please write Hector x Reader were reader is a team mates little sister and her and Hector hate each other but then he gets a little hurt (like in the match against athletic club. He doesn’t get injured just a little hurt.) and then she’s all worried about him and then they confess their feelings to each other??

Hector Fort: playing with fire

pairing: hector fort x reader

warnings: none

❝My mom told me everyday to be careful of men. Because love is like playing with fire, it can get you hurt. My mom might be right, because when I see you my heart burns.❞

I’m sitting here alone and bored while my brother Joao Felix is training with the rest of the team. I’m assuming they’re done now since I see Joao, Lamine, Hector and Marc walk over. ‘Hi y/n.’ my brother says and I smile at him. I see Hector standing next to me and my smile fades.

‘No need for you to be so bratty about it.’ He says and I roll my eyes. He’s.. quite attractive- but then again so annoying. I don’t get how one person can always get on my nerves.

‘Roll your eyes further, hope they get stuck.’ He says and Marc says ‘If you want to see her roll her eyes you might need to do it in a less public place.’ Before I can even say anything I hear Joao say ‘Okay, this is our queue to go.. let’s go Y/n.’ and he walks away so I follow him.

We arrived at our families house and I sit on the couch. ‘You two would be cute together, you know.’ Joao jokingly says. I roll my eyes and say ‘You would look very cute in a casket, you know.’ and I can hear him laugh.

‘Are you still coming to the match tonight?’ Joao asks me and I nod yes. Whenever they have a home game I come with him to support him. We really like to annoy eachother but we’re also very supportive of eachother.

big time skip

It’s now saturday night, match time. The match started 1 minute ago and Guruzeta scored..

About 25 minutes later Lewandowski luckily scored and 10 minutes later Lamine scored!

Just when i’m having faith in today’s match I see Sancet scoring in the 49th minute making it 2-2.

5 minutes later I see Hector with the ball and Williams running towards him. Williams lightly tackels Hector but I can still see he’s a bit hurt. I feel a sense of worry grow inside of me. I know i’m supposed to hate him.. but I can’t help but like him.

Now its the end of the match, Barcelona lost 4-2.

I finally see Joao and the rest but I can’t help but walk towards Hector as I see he’s still a little hurt. ‘Are you okay? Did it hurt a lot? Are you still hurt?’ I say worriedly. He looks at me, smiles and says ‘Are you worried about me?’. I roll my eyes and say ‘Just answer my question.’

‘Im fine, don’t worry about it. Why do you care though?’ He says. I don’t know what to say so as usual, I just decide to roll my eyes. After we did that I accidentally make eye contact. I expected him to look away yet he didn’t.

We kept holding eye contact and there grew a certain tension. ‘Y/n? Why were you worried.’ he asks me and I can feel myself getting stressed. ‘I… ehm. Well I guess I sort of- maybe- have like.. well I think you are a tiny bit sweet and attractive.’ I accidentally say. I need to learn how to think before I act.

He smiles and says ‘Think? Or know? Because if you know then I might have to say something to you.’ i’m a bit confused now, so I say ‘Then tell me what it is.’ He replies ‘I think you are sweet and attractive too.’ Okay now im reaally confused.. but also a bit happy I guess? I can’t help but smile at his words and then I hear him say ‘Would you like to maybe go on a date with me?’ okay now my smile grew a bit bigger and I say ‘Yes.’ to him!

I can see Joao walking over to us and he says ‘What happened? Thought you two hated eachother.’ Now me and Hector look at eachother and smile.

A/n: William Shakespeare would be so upset if he read this..

#fc barcelona #hector fort #hector fort x reader #barca #la masia

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barcalover86 · 2 years ago

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Wsg love your post!!!

It would make my day if u wrote of post the reader is Pedri’s little sister but she’s dating Gavi. One day Pedri was playing FIFA with his friends on call, reader comes in his room pissed off bc she’s on her period. When Reader is on her period she’s very very bratty and mean, Pedri knew that so the minute that he Rolodex this he asked her if she was on her period,and she was so mad and left bc he ate all of her snacks. When Gavi asked Pedri if it was true that u we’re on ur period he bought readers favourite snacks and went to go cuddle with her and it’s just full of fluffff

Thank you!

Period problems - Pablo Gavi

2nd Masterlist

"What do you want, y/n!? You are getting on my nerves now!" Pedri said to you after 10 minutes of walking around the kitchen trying to find something for you to eat.

Your period came earlier and some big cramps were keeping you awake.

It was pretty late now, but your brother, Pedri, was playing FIFA in the living room with his footballer friends.

"Don't you have your own business to look out for?"

"Since you are distracting me of winning this game, I can tell you whatever I want."

You rolled his eyes. You wanted to tell him so bad that he was going to lose anyway, but you remained silent, knowing that your boyfriend, Gavi, was also there playing in his team.

"What are you even looking for?" he said annoyed after another 5 minutes of you walking around.

"Something to eat."

"This late?"

You were really annoyed this time.

"Yes, this late. I'm hungry, do you have a problem with it?"

"Yes, I do. Go grab yourself something and leave! You're making too much noise!"

"Well, if I had something, I would take it and go to my room. Don't you think I want to be alone too!? I just don't find my snacks.." you said the last part as a whisper, but Pedri heard you.

"What snacks?"

"Those that I bought yesterday."

"Oh, those snacks," he said chuckling.

"Do you know where they are?"

"In my tummy" Pedri said while laughing.

"What did you say?"

"I'm sorry, I was hung-"

"I bought them!!! You had to ask me if you wanted to eat those! Now I don't have anything and I'm hungry!"

"C'mon, there's not a big deal, y/n. Now, can you leave? I want to continue the game and all of us are waiting for you to get done with all those.. moody things of yours.. so that we can finish this stupid match!"

"Pedri, hermano, don't shout at her!"

Pedri heard Gavi talking, but decided to ignore him.

"Not a big deal!? Seriously!? Of course it is not if you ate MY food!" you started to get really mad and tears were forming in your eyes.

"For real? Now you are crying? What now? Are you on your period?"

"Yes, I am! You are such a bad brother. You don't even know how it feels. I don't want to see you ever again!" you said before going to your room, sad, angry, hungry and with bad cramps.

Pedri rolled his eyes, but he felt bad for shouting at you, knowing that period was a serious subject and you were in pain.

"Is she on her period, Pedri?"

"Yes, Gavi. She is"

"Why did you yell at her like that!?"

"I didn't know, don't you think I'm sorry too?"

"I'm going to but those snacks for her now." he said before hanging up and going to some store.

It took him a lot of time to find one that was still open and after that he ran to your house.

Pedri thanked him for coming after Gavi started to give him some lessons about his behaviour towards his sister.

When you heard someone knocking at your door, you were sure it was your brother so you didn't respond, pretending to be asleep. The door eventually open and it revealed you your boyfriend with a bag in his hands.

"Hi.." he said quietly and sweetly, putting his hand on one of your legs.

"Pablo.."

He smiled at you and kissed your forehead. You opened the lights and you hugged him, being really emotional.

"Oh, sweet girl"

You wanted to ask him so many questions, but he promised to tell you everything tomorrow morning and that he will stau with you this night.

When he gave you the bag and you saw all your favorite foods and some pads, you were on he edge of tears.

"Thank youu."

"De nada, amorcito."

After you ate until you were full, he cuddled you, making sure you were save and comfortable.

Your cramps were bad, but being close to Gavi made you forget about them, only thinking about his lips and body. You were really horny this period of the month and Gavi knew that, but promised you that he will give you a nice time after you finish it.

Now, his lips on your neck and lips were enough for you.

"Can you tell me a story, please?" you asked him.

"I don't know a story,cariño."

"Anything..please"

He eventually gave up and took his phone out to read you something. After a short time, you were already asleep in his arms, while he was looking at you sweetly, kissing your forehead time to time.

"Te quiero, y/n"

2nd Masterlist

I hope you like this and I'm sorry for the wait!

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countrymusiclover · 4 months ago

Text

4 - Beginning to Bond

Part 5

Star Crossed Enemies

My body twitched slightly while I was asleep against one of the cave walls until I felt a rough hand shaking me harshly by the shoulder. The voice nit entirely familiar causing me to draw out a dagger and push it against the person's neck. “Cassio, wake up. Cassio - Cass - it's me. It's Bellamy.”

“What were you trying to do, kill me in my sleep?” I glared at him waiting for his response before I ever would lower the weapon.

“You were screaming in your sleep. I had one of the other people in my camp have nightmares so I knew it was better to wake up more than let you suffer.”

I shifted my gaze to meet his deep gaze. “How old is the person that has nightmares?”

“She’s just a kid. Maybe 10 or 11. Her name is Charlotte.” He explained softly to me.

Lowering the dagger from his throat I blinked back some tears thinking back to my childhood. My mom did the best she could but she still always favored Clarke. Considering she was now down here something really bad must have happened up on the Ark to drop them a down here.

Clicking my tongue I sent him a weak smile appreciating the gesture. “Thank you for waking me. Most of the time I just drag myself out of my nightmares with little relief when I wake up for the first five minutes.”

“I'm sorry. That sounds horrible.”

Shrugging my shoulders I sniffed feeling some tears trying to slip out. “I've been through much worse. So it's just my life.”

Grounders don't show weaknesses

Lexa would be disappointed I was beginning to share information with him. But she wasn't here. She wasn't being held prisoner, I was. I wouldn't disclose our secrets but I could share some of mine.

“I know we don't know each other but maybe we can start to. The fog doesn't seem to be clearing anytime soon and I don't really want to burn to death in an attempt to make it back to camp.” He leaned back against the cold cave wall sitting beside me where we saw the green fog still lingering on the outside of the shelter we had found for ourselves.

Hugging my knees to my chest I raised my brows. “Are you meaning like a 20 question game?”

“If you're up to it. Yeah I am.” He replied pointing at me. “Ladies first.”

Biting my lip I paused thinking I should start with basic things. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Green.”

“Mine is orange.”

The older boy shifted his focus onto me. “Did you have any friends growing up?”

“Not really. There’s a major reason why and it has to do with my relationship with one of people’s doctors. But anyway I had basically one that is still my best friend. Her name is - was Glass.”

Bellamy raised a brow staring at me curiously. “Describe her to me.”

“Um, it’s been a while but she - she had blonde hair and blue eyes from what I can remember.” I scratched the side of my head thinking back on the last time I saw her. “Why do you want to know?”

He responded back to me. “Because I bumped into her before I got on the dropship and she didn’t.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying that she’s still on the Ark? She’s up there with those assholes.” I clutched my hands into fists in my lap unsure if I should feel anger or relief that they didn’t float her for getting pregnant as a teenager.

The older Blake sibling blinked his eyes a few times not saying a word. He wasn’t sure what to say back to the grounder in front of him. He rubbed the back of his neck avoiding her gaze. “I guess so. I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be. You saw an opportunity and she saw her own. That’s how survival works.”

Bellamy softly nodded his head in agreement. “Down here. Weakness is death. Fear is death.”

“So - what about you, Sky boy. What did you like to do up on the dying space station?” I cleared my throat, breaking the very heavy and intense silence that had fallen between us and the cave air.

“Growing up my mother taught me about Augustus who was a former Roman emperor. He had a sister named and that’s how my sister got her name. So I’ve always and still do love Mythology.”

I laughed wishing I didn’t like where my name came from after how my mother treated me but I couldn’t help it. “Do you wanna know my full name because nobody down here knows it.”

“You’d tell me that. Why do I get such an honor?” Bellamy asked me.

Biting my lip I found myself beginning to think there was more to him then just an arrogant and rude leader of the Sky People I once knew. “I’m not sure yet. Now do you want to know it or not. You’ve only got a limited chance before I change my mind.”

“Tell me, Grounder Girl.” He responded seeing me send him a glare and so he added on the end a please.

“Cassiopeia. A cluster of stars in the sky.”

Tears welled in my eyes hearing my full name come from someone else’s lips other than my mothers. The way my name sounded from his lips was music to my ears. “Cassiopeia. But you shorten it by going by Cassio. It all makes sense now.”

“Yep.” I nodded, clicking my tongue against my lips.

Bellamy shrugged his shoulders, coming up with a new nickname for me that I hadn’t heard before. “How about I call you Cassie instead of grounder girl from now on hmm?”

“I’d like that, Bellamy.”

The next morning we made our way out of the cold cave and into the woods with the sun barely rising over the trees so it was still dark unless you were walking up in the mountain range.

The silence that fell between me and the 100 leader wasn’t as awkward or intense as it had been before we had spent the night in that cave. I wasn’t entirely sure what had formed between us but it was definitely something.

“So are you going to chain me up when we get back to camp?” I questioned sparing the boy a glance walking directly beside him.

Bellamy paused before giving his response. “Yes. I need to establish some control over the teenagers in my camp. But with good behavior from you I might lower how many hours you’re locked up if that makes sense.”

“I understand - get down.” I sharply cried tackling his larger body with my smaller one seeing a spiked tree limb coming down onto us meaning we must have snagged a hidden trap wire somewhere.

Bellamy grunted from the impact raising his head watching me hovering above his body. “Cassie! —- nice save.” He blinked seeing the spikey tree a few steps behind us where we were laying on the ground.

“You’re welcome.” I breathed out in relief knowing my best friend was probably having an easier life than I was right now.

The Ark

Glass and mother were simply eating dinner in their apartment complex until they heard a knock at the door. Glass got up from her chair going to answer the door and was met with Vice Chancellor Marcus Kane. “Ms. Sorenson. I need to speak with you about something important if you have time.”

“Can I know what this is about, sir. She’s done nothing wrong.” Sonja, her mother came up behind her entering the conversation. Her mother knew that her daughter wasn’t supposed to still be on the space station but she was. Now they were just worried they’d try to send her down to the ground like originally planned.

He responded with his hands in his pockets. “I’m aware of that, ma’am.”

“Then why are you here? What do you want with my daughter if you pardoned her?” Sonja glared at the councilman.

Kane shook his head. “I’m not here to arrest her. I simply need to talk to her about someone.”

“Who would I know that you need information on so badly?” Glass made a very confused face.

The vice chancellor replied. “Cassiopeia Rhodes. Now may I please come in so we can discuss this privately?”

“Come in.” Sonja stepped aside but he waited for Glass to move before he stepped inside and locked the door behind himself so no one walking bye would hear what they were about to say.

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formulapookie · 7 months ago

Text

;)

under the cut to read

it started as something @giuventus asked me to write, amo spero sia bella, l'ho scritta mezza da fatta e l'altra metà da addormentata

They can only dream beznaia, 1.6k words

They’re running late, they both know that, they spent way too much time in the shower making out and jerking off like teenagers and way too little actually getting ready for the press con they have to attend in 5 minutes.

“Pecco I told you we had to be quicker, they're gonna ask for our heads, ITS FIFTEEN MINUTES FROM HERE how are we supposed to make it?”

“We would’ve been there on time if you didn’t tease me back in the room.

Do you think I am a man intelligent enough to not think about railing you when you walk around in just my jersey and nothing under it?”

“No, that’s why I do it but -PECCO THE LEFT TURN DIOBO”

They almost miss it, but somehow manage to get there in 10 minutes, parking the bike somewhere random next to the Ducati garage and sprinting to the press con room.

“Where were you two?” Carola is furious, rightfully so, but hands them the pass.

“actually I don’t wanna know, just go in there and fucking act normal”

“What do you mean normal?”

“Like you didn’t just fuck maybe? I don’t want this

type of mess to deal with right now”

Bez is red as Pecco’s jersey now, Pecco throwing Carola a look that kills while pushing Bez to the room.

“She knows?”

“She’s my sister guess it’s like -siblings thing or something”

They make a run for the room and find Martin already sitting there, smiling at Pecco, just waving at Bez.

Him and the Spaniard don’t have the best relationship, but he knows he and Pecco in the past have shared one too many nights for calling it casual, and one too many moments together for Bez’s liking.

“Bastardo” he says before sitting on Pecco’s left side.

“Stop it Bez we’re live”

“Tell your little friend to stop being an asshole then”

“Bez.”

He shuts up, knowing it’s best to not piss Pecco off if he still wishes to walk afterwards.

The press con goes by pretty easily, they’re asked usual questions about the championship and how they think they will manage a possible title fight up to Valencia.

Then it’s the turn of those bothering personal questions Bez never liked.

Why do journalists care what one does in private he will never understand.

“And for you Bez, do you feel that for Jorge having a girlfriend could be a distraction?”

Now what kind of question is this?

Like what the actual fuck

“Eh I don’t have idea, I’m not currently taken so I don’t know if it can be an incentive to do better or no, you asked the wrong guy sorry” “No girlfriend for you then?” “Not currently no, am free”

He can feel Pecco’s eyes on him, he can’t look back, he’s sure he would combust if he did.

They ask a few more questions to Martin and Pecco about their battles on track and if they think the championship can go to Valencia, Bez doesn’t listen, he’s trying to hide his blush as Pecco compliments him on a last minute action he pulled last weekend.

They get up for the group picture, Jorge’s arm goes to wrap itself around Pecco’s waist and Bez would very much like to push him away from him.

They go out and cross paths with the other three having to undergo presscon, they greet each other, then it’s only them three.

“So Bezzecchi you really have no girl?”

“Nah, focused on racing, plus I have Rubik he’s great company”

“If you say so, see you tomorrow, I have - company waiting for me”

Bez pulls a half disgusted face, turning towards Pecco, who looks everything but relaxed right now.

“Care to come with me to my motorhome Bez?”

“Yeah sure”

He follows Pecco silently, he looks pissed off, he doesn’t know why exactly, could be a question he didn’t bother to listen to during the presscon.

They get to the Ducati garage, they all greet Bez, luckily enough it’s normal for him to be there, so no suspicions arise between the mechanics.

“Lock the door”

Bez does it with no questions, it’s not like they never lock doors to talk, but usually the room doesn’t feel this charged, it’s a space where they usually chill before and after races.

“Everything ok Pecco? You look - I don’t know you look” “Angry?” “Pissed off, did a question bother you or something? I stopped listening after mine, I knew they were stupid questions anyway”

“It’s not the question per se that bothered me, mostly it was the answer”

Pecco goes to sit on the edge of his bed, the other absentmindedly going to find his place on his lap, as Pecco wraps his hands around his hips.

“Did Martin say something bothersome? I’m going to find him if he did” “No no amore nothing like that”

“Then what?”

They are really close now, Bez can smell the shampoo they both used before on Pecco, it’s something mint scented which Bez doesn’t particularly like, but uses anyway because it’s Pecco’s favorite.

“You saying you’re not taken. Saying you are free. I didn’t like it. People are going to get the wrong idea don’t you think? They’re gonna assume they can flirt with you, and touch you here” Pecco’s hands draw small circles on Bez’s hips, that by now is fucking crimson and sweating.

“Or here” he moves his hands lower, to Bez’s thighs, still drawing patterns on them.

“Or even here” Bez lets out a moan when Pecco presses one of his hands against his bulge, feeling him through the jeans he’s wearing.

“Pecco fuck” he smiles, Bez’s head on his shoulder as he keeps palming him through his jeans.

“Imagine what they could think, maybe that they are allowed to kiss you or feel your pretty mouth around their dick mh?”

“Please” he’s hot under Pecco’s touch, burning with need.

“Do you think I liked that, Marco? Seeing their eyes on you like you were a prey? Seeing them thinking that you’re available?”

“I didn’t - fuck - I didn’t mean for them to think that”

“Oh I believe you amore, I do, seriously, but you see, they are now confident they can have you, and I have to make sure you’re seen as off limits the next few days right?”

Bez can feel he’s close, Pecco’s hand working him up without removing any clothes, he’s breathing hard by now, he tries to go unzip his jeans but Pecco doesn’t let him, he wants to be the one in absolute control right now.

“Pecco”

“I bet they would pay to hear how you sound amore, and I honestly don’t think I could spend my money better than that”

“I’m close Pecco fuck”

“You know what pisses me off more?”

Bez mutters a muffled “no”, biting his lip to quieten his noises as much as possible.

“the fact they’d think about leaving marks here, all over your neck, branding you with their signature”

Pecco does as he says, pressing a light kiss on Bez’s neck, then moving up slightly, biting and sucking on the spot, which becomes purple almost immediately, drawing out a long moan from Bez, who’s fighting for the last drops of dignity.

“I need them to see that you are not available, not for them not for anyone else, you belong to me Marco, I don’t like when others try to take what mine”

He’s been jealous in the past, yes, especially with Mig, always flirting with him, or Cele, but not like this.

And it’s hot.

Really hot, knowing Pecco wants him as badly as he wants Pecco, that he wants to mark him to draw a line.

“You look so beautiful, and you’re all mine”

he’s whispering against Bez’s collarbone now, hot breath making him shiver, as he begins to leave a trail of kisses from the collarbone until the juncture between neck and shoulder that always gets Bez weak for it, slowly reaching his neck, sucking deep purple and blue hickeys on it, Bez still trying to hold back his orgasm, a whimpering mess under Pecco’s teasing.

“Don’t hold back amore, you deserve it”

Bez barely lasts another half second before feeling his orgasm overwhelm him, coming in his briefs and trousers, embarrassingly much like a teenager.

“Look how pretty you look, all marked by me”

Bez turns his head back, facing the huge mirror Pecco insisted on having positioned in front of his bed.

He’s covered in bruises and hickeys, luckily they can all be covered by a high neck sweater he currently has, otherwise he would’ve never walked out of here looking like that.

They spend the rest of the time making out, showering and making out again, Pecco sucking a few more marks on Bez’s neck, smiling after each one of them has taken its place.

“See you later amore, come to my room ok?” “Yeah yeah I will, don’t worry”

Bez puts on the sweater, pulling it as high as he can to cover his neck, until he’s fairly far from it, walking like nothing happened just half an hour ago.

“You found a girl in the end, Bezzecchi?”

“What?”

“Well it’s either that or you have a very bad reaction to something because your neck looks really…messy”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He checks himself with his internal camera on his phone.

There’s no hiding, they show even if he pulls the sweater higher, and tries to salvage the situation.

“Yeah no, it’s just a uhm a grid girl, nothing special”

“Mh yeah, of course, see you tomorrow Bez”

The curly boy looks as the other goes back inside his motorhome, not failing to notice how he always avoids the same room.

He thinks it’s hot once again, to be branded by Pecco like he was right now.

#alice writes #my fic <3 #beznaia #marco bezzecchi #pecco bagnaia #motogp rpf #motogp fic #motogp smut

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pluralthey · 1 year ago

Note

is there a good place to start if we want to learn about idletry? im very interested in the story and all the bits and pieces revealed so far but i dont know if youve like, stated the basics both about the characters-in-story and how you’re releasing the comic

hi there. unfortunately, idletry became a passion project very abruptly and many details were added very quickly without regard for how long the project would take. once i did realize how large the project was, i decided that i would not even kid myself on the idea of holding in spoilers for the next 5 years, and those two factors combined make the information available very chaotic and slapdash -- somewhat intentionally.

i don't even have the comics tagged separately for easier access among the idletry content -- although, i could go back and give them a separate tag.

i can summarize the story and say that it's about a funny little talking honey badger/tasmanian devil named jessie gaylord who has for the last 10 years of her life been on heavy psychiatric medication in an attempt to mitigate a pervasive delusion that the world is a fictional story. she also has a notorious aggressive streak. these medications work primarily by leaving her so tired that she sleeps most of the time.

the story begins when her medical team has run out of typical medications to try, and they must order an older, more aggressive type of drug which is not commonly used anymore, and has a lengthier process to manufacturing and approving the drug. during this time, she is not on any medication, and she becomes more urgently fixated on convincing people that the delusion is true.

she ends up attempting to contact the writer, who is referred to as God, and she receives a response. she immediately attempts to write the story herself, and she's granted the ability to do anything within the story so long as she can write it out. (the intricacies and limitations of this power have been elaborated upon in a bunch of fragmentary posts, so i won't try to condense it here)

at the end of the first act, she kills the first writer and becomes the new God of her world. the rest of the story is about what she does after acquiring omnipotence, and it heavily features a character named fate -- or shiloh, as jessie calls her -- with whom she enters an intimate relationship.

she has a happy loving family composed of a father named adam, a mother named evelyn, and an older sister named emily. there is a later minor subplot about a cult following who worships her after she becomes God, and this cult is initially organized by an ant called samanthuel -- or samwich, as jessie calls them. these are usually the other characters i mention and i am too lazy to link them right now

the comic itself is currently being written. the script stands at around 51,000 words at the time of writing this as i work on the second act. after it's written, i will let it simmer for a few months and then write a second draft to start to relieve the story of its bloat. depending on its length at that point, i will either need to write a third draft, or i will start drawing the comic.

chances are, during the second draft, i will start to thumbnail or sketch scenes which receive little to no editing, as i know they will likely remain relatively unchanged even through multiple drafts.

the sketch strips are to tide me and an eager audience over in the meantime, but they've sort of dried up as i focus all of my attention on finishing the first draft and taking care of a puppy that was kind of just forced onto me.

i've made a couple of full-length comics before and they have taken years. it is, unfortunately, just the nature of the process. for idletry, i plan to self-publish the comic. i've never published something in print before, so that is the most daunting part for me.

the plan at the moment is to crowdfund this, but, to be frank with you, i no longer pay rent, and i care very much about having this comic as a printed book. i have no issue with paying the cost of printing out of my own pocket by the time it's done and am even anticipating that outcome ahead of time, despite having a pretty reliable audience by now.

i'm on the fence about releasing a digital book version, as i very much want to retain digital color versions of the pages that are more vibrant, but due to the explicit adult content of the story, i don't want it to be free-access.

tl;dr: it's about a lesbian incel with anger issues who's given omnipotence.

i'm still working on the story because i want it to be good.

i'm planning on printing it as a physical comic book once it's done.

#idletry #not art #ask #asks #as a frame of reference your average actual words-on-paper novel is 60k words

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faneliansficaloh · 2 months ago

Text

A Lifetime of Happiness

(Ch 1) (Ch 2) (Ch 3) (Ch 4) (Ch 5) (Ch 6) (Ch 7) (Ch 8) (Ch 9) (Ch 10) (Ch 11) (Ch 12) (Ch 13) (Ch 14) (Ch 15)

This is Chapter 16

Read in AO3

Notes

----------

30 January 1818

Dear Penelope,

You better than anyone on this earth knows that it has not been determination exactly that has brought me where I am today. It was self preservation, mostly, but I thank you for the sentiment any way. I will concede that I was determined to stop harming others with my tomfoolery, though.

You are wise beyond your years Pen, and there are very few people in this world whose opinion I value as much as I do yours, in all matters. So you must tell me if you think I should be worried about Amanda. I’ve noticed lately that she has been trying to care for us in her own way, treating us like her little pets, some times. She admonishes us for not eating our vegetables, and the other night she came in to my little study well after her bed time to tell me to go to sleep.

I promise I will follow whatever you recommend. I learned my lesson that one time I did not listen to you and for that transgression I have paid dearly, so I hope you have already forgiven me. Besides, I believe it was Prudence’s singing that made me temporarily deaf at the time.

Please give Prudence my regards, as well as her husband. Unlike Mr. Finch, Mr. Dankworth has not written to me frequently, so I shall rely on you for this short greeting.

You should be receiving spring and its early flowers by the time you get this letter. I hope you’ve also received the news you wish so much for.

Yours, Colin.

1815 – Flown away

It had been a smaller affair than Portia Featherington would have liked it to celebrate her daughter marrying a baron, but everybody agreed that the ceremony was lovely and the wedding breakfast was perfect. Well, almost everybody.

She had changed into a travel dress as they were to depart for Surrey immediately after the celebration. Mrs Varley had to help her as Rae had already been sent on her way to prepare things for her in what would be her new home.

It was an odd feeling, as she looked around at her mostly-empty room. All her things had already been packed and sent away, and Mrs. Varley looked like she might cry.

“We are all very happy for you, my Lady, the staff send their congratulations”

“That is very kind, thank you.” It felt odd to accept that she would miss this house and the people that inhabited.

“We will miss you”

“I will miss you, too. Thank you for looking after us all these years, Mrs. Varley.” She held and pressed the woman’s hand in hers to show her affection.

The old woman smiled with pride. “I will let them know that you’re ready”

“Yes, thank you.”

Penelope took a last look at her bedroom and taking a deep breath marched resolutely out the door. She was climbing down the stairs when she heard the well known sound of domestic gossip and could not help herself. There were a couple of young maids cleaning up after the celebration.

“Well, I’ll say that for man not in love, Lord Debling is awfully sweet to her” said one of them

“Isn’t he?” The other one seemed to feel vindicated “And the way he smiles when he looks at her.” The emphasis implied there was something special about such a smile.

“In any case, I hope the miss will be very happy” The first maid replied, trying to sound very sensible.

“She is a Lady now, Anna” Penelope could not help a little giggle to escape her at this.

“Oh, I keep forgetting!”

Penelope was touched to hear the maids’ well wishes were genuine, and the validation that it wasn’t only her imagination and that there had indeed been a sweetness present in their courtship, gave her renewed hope that this had been the right decision. There was just one thing that worried her at present.

She said goodbye to her sisters and her mother, who had unexpectedly embraced her, almost making her cry. It was a quick but tight hug, her mother’s hand pressing her almost painfully, and when she let go she put her hands on her shoulders and with a tight smile she nodded encouragingly, as if sending out her best soldier into battle. You can do this was written in her face. Penelope nodded reassuringly in return.

Lord Debling helped her get into the carriage, looking through the window she waved her family goodbye one last time. Her husband sat across her and as soon as the carriage started moving, he proceeded to remove his coat and his cravat. As he did so, he noticed she had averted her eyes to the floor, her skin flushed and a very worried expression across her face “Are you very nervous?” his voice was warm and hesitant.

“I am” He moved to sit beside her, took her hand and kissed it, not letting go afterwards. Then it dawned on him.

“Forgive me, I should have – it is going to be a long ride under the sun. I am not used to travel with female company, I should have asked you before removing my coat. Did... your mother tell you about the-” he cleared his throat “wedding night?” If she weren’t so worried herself, she might have noticed that he seemed nervous as well.

She could feel her heart in her throat. “She did.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him in the eye, it was so very, uttterly mortifying.

He then wondered exactly what her mother had told her because he could see her panic.

“You do not have to worry. I will not ask you to repeat whatever she’s told you, but just know, we do not have to do anything you do not feel ready for.”

She turned to look at him fully, her sight finally unglued from the floor, full of surprise. Her mother had said it would be demanded of her. He lowered his head near to hers, and spoke softly “I will wait”, then took her chin in his hand and kissed her. And she could feel his smile when she kissed him back and after some hesitation, her hand gently reached his cheek, as if testing something. He then kissed her palm and said “It might be more difficult than I thought, but I will” with what she could swear was a mischievous smile.

It was not the first time they kissed, nor was the one at the end of the wedding ceremony. He had kissed her when she accepted his proposal, but that had been a very chaste kiss, not what she had experienced with her own very first kiss. If she had been expecting it, she would probably have been disappointed, but it surprised her and in the moment it felt incredibly tender and right.

Their second kiss had been very different, her heart had skipped a beat and she had felt it somewhere deep inside of her, it had been the night of their engagement party, and she could still remember the feel of his hand on her neck and her back.

The kisses were perfectly good, she enjoyed them in fact, and therein lied the real heart of the matter that had been in her mind since. It was hard for her to reconcile the fact that she was apparently capable of liking the touch of a man who wasn’t the one her heart loved. She never thought it possible to enjoy kissing someone other than Colin. This was, of course, a good discovery as it meant she wouldn’t have to make her life with someone whose touch she couldn’t bear, but it still clashed with all her notions of what true love meant.

In any case, the fact that she had enjoyed his kissing and wasn’t uncomfortable with her hand in his right this moment, didn’t mean that she was ready for the nakedness and climbing atop of each other her mother had described the night before, as if she had needed to have nightmares immediately before her wedding day. Portia had explained the wedding night to her in such stark detail that she felt she might have been better off not knowing anything at all.

Apparently Portia had felt the need to over-correct whatever instruction she had provided to her elder sisters as it seemed to not have helped them, and she was even more eager to make sure Penelope would secure an heir for the Debling estate than she had been for the Featherington title, so although it was clearly mortifying to her, she powered through and told Penelope all she thought was necessary to increase the chances of a pregnancy.

“So, have you given any thought to who will be your first guest at your new home?” He said, trying to distract her, as she had hardly said a word for a good while.

“I haven’t even set foot there myself yet!” She couldn’t even imagine what this new home would be like. There must be trees, and a garden, that much she had imagined.

“So you haven’t thought about it at all?” She had mentioned she wanted to run her own home, so he expected her to be excited about the prospect of entertaining visitors.

“I suppose it would have to be my mother”

“Will she be joined by your sisters and your cousin?”

“Not my cousin, I don’t think” She noticed his intrigued face “Her husband is so busy nowadays. I don’t think they will be travelling as much” Never her cousin. It was after all, the whole point.

“I thought you would be more eager to have Miss Bridgerton, you seem more closely attached to her”

“That is entirely true. But I wouldn’t want to hurt mama. She does care a great deal for social standing, she would take it as an affront. I have already disappointed her with a perfectly sensible wedding, I cannot add another insult. Do you entertain many visitors?”

“Not many that are not strictly on business, but as the time draws near for the expedition, there will probably be an increase in visits. You will have to practice with your new name, we would not want any blunders, Lady Debling”

She smiled. She was! She truly was Lady Debling now! Penelope Featherington had been forever left behind in Mayfair, doomed to live as only a memory for the few that would care to remember.

***

They arrived in the afternoon, there was still a good hour of sunlight outside. It was comforting that it wasn’t that far from town, although it was twice as far from the Featherington country seat by her calculations.

It was not a very large, imposing building. To Penelope it looked exactly as a home should look. Despite it’s plain and cool white colour, the large windows and the details of the facade seemed to invite one to the warmth of it’s interior.

As they descended the carriage, they were greeted by the servants, all lined up to welcome them. Her husband introduced the butler, Mr. Wilcox and the Housekeeper, Mrs. Donaghy. Penelope was glad to see Rae smiling at her from the ranks as she had accepted to join her as her lady’s maid.

Mrs. Donaghy, the housekeeper, quickly explained that the house had 14 bedrooms and dressing rooms, 2 bathrooms, 3 reception rooms a comfortable lounge hall and ample domestic offices, she went on to note that the stable counted with men’s rooms and there was additional housing for the groundskeeper. The boastful tone Mrs. Donaghy used made it all sound as if she was trying to convince Penelope to buy the property, but it was to serve as a mere introduction of sorts. It was arranged that Mrs. Donaghy would give her a proper tour and introduce her to the staff the next day.

Nevertheless, she now was facing the reality that she would be responsible for all of that, for the people who actually did the work to maintain it and the many tenants and related properties. Lord Debling had assured her that she would not be entirely on her own, there were a solicitor, a business manager and clerks that would make sure things ran smoothly, but she knew that at the end of the day, decisions would be required from her. It was a sobering thought, none the less. Suddenly the anxiety of the wedding night was entirely forgotten, and replaced by an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

“Would you like to see the grounds, or do you prefer to retire to rest?” He was rolling up his sleeves as he said this

“I would love to walk outside for a bit” She was aching from the many hours spent on the carriage. It was a hot day but a nice breeze rustled the canopy of the large trees surrounding the house, inviting her in to their shade.

She was rewarded with a very lovely sight – The ton’s country homes she had visited all had very similar, meticulously manicured gardens, with neatly trimmed hedges and distinct groups of flowers carefully arranged. She didn’t know how to describe it exactly, but this garden made one feel like one was actually out in nature. It looked wild, and seemed overgrown, with different types of trees on all sides, vines and flowers of many kinds but the pathways were clear and neat, and there were benches in different spots. It was charming, and felt full of life.

“We try not to interfere with the plants too much, only where it is necessary for them to thrive or to avoid or repair damage.” She could see he was profoundly proud of this. “It also allows for all kind of small creatures to have a home”

“Doesn’t that become dangerous?”

“Only if we are aggressive in our invasion of their home. From time to time we might have to chase one out of the house, but they mostly keep to themselves if we do not disturb them”

“Like we are doing now?” her tone was alarmed at the thought.

“They are used to quiet visits. I usually sit over here, come” He motioned to the edge of the garden that bordered with the woods at the North, which was on slightly higher ground. “From here one can appreciate the full view of the garden, the house and if one turns around, we can look into the woods. It is a good spot to catch a sight of nuthatches and the occasional sparrowhawk, hopefully not at the same time.” Her face was questioning so he clarified “The sparrowhawk might hunt the nuthatch”

“Oh” Was her only reply and they fell into a comfortable silence while they drank up the scenery, bathed in the warm light of the late afternoon.

He looked very pleased and completely at ease, with his legs extended, one crossed over the other, his hands interlocked behind his head as he reclined on the bench’s backrest. She thought back at how different he seemed now from the first impression she got of him when they met at Lady Danbury’s ball. He had seemed like a very serious, rather stiff man. They had little by little grown comfortable with each other while courting, but here he was completely relaxed, absolutely himself, and she felt there was still a world contained within him she did not know about. She wanted to know.

“Did you spend your days in this spot, as a boy?”

“Not at all! We used to live in Derbyshire. This house in fact is fairly new, I only came into residence after I came back from Shrewsbury and then I went away to Cambridge soon after.”

“Sounds like you’ve lived all across England at one point or another” It also sounded like he wasn’t used to staying in one place for long.

He shook his head in disagreement “I have yet to visit Cornwall”

“Is that intentional or an oversight?” She teased.

“An oversight, I can assure you I do not hold any ill will towards the Cornish people or their land”

“I haven’t been either, maybe we should go together – Once you return?”

He turned to her and nodded “It is settled, then”

“That was very easily agreed!” she chuckled.

“You could have gotten away with anything, you just went really low” he shrugged.

She twisted her mouth “Alas! I’ve squandered my powers on Cornwall” she threw her arms up in fake disappointment.

“Indeed. Next time you will have to actually say Please” She laughed and he was clearly delighted. He stood up and offered her his hand “Should we go inside?” She nodded and followed him.

They went into the house the opposite way from which they had come into the garden, through the door on a bow window.

“I wanted to show you this, before I let you go rest”

It was the library. Most of the walls were covered with books from floor to ceiling, with some smaller bookshelves standing behind a couple of big sofas that faced the very large bow window on the south wall, which meant one would have plenty of light all day long. There was also a great desk that had some maps displayed on top and on the mantle of the fireplace there was a large painting of a nautical scene. She could picture him spending hours in that room, studying his maps and preparing for his travels, writing about his findings.

“It is so lovely!” Her face was alight with joy and his with pride at having pleased her.

“It’s all yours. You can, perhaps, start writing your novel on this desk” The look on his face as he said this was so tender, it seemed to her that he had already pictured her writing there. She felt an overwhelming wave of affection for him. “These are the latest additions, curated by your closest friend” He pointed at a bundle of books tied with a ribbon that sat on the very same desk.

She went to inspect the bundle, untying the ribbon. It was a selection of novels and the Wollstonecraft book Eloise had been so insistent she read. “When did she – why didn’t she give these to me herself?”

“I asked what she would recommend to add to our library so that you would enjoy it from the first day”

“This is perfect, I don’t know what to say! That you got Eloise to do this for you, really – You should be very flattered” It felt like Eloise had finally given her full approval.

“I am exceptionally glad to hear that. I will show you to your room and let you retire to rest, yes?”

“Alright” She nodded

They went out of the library towards the stairs, they made a right on the second landing and they entered a small lounge with a large window opposite the entrance, and with two doors, each in one side of the room. He pointed to the door to the left and said “That is your bedroom, mine is through that door. I believe Miss Rae is waiting for you already. I will let you rest and meet you for dinner” She nodded and smiled as he kissed her hand before making his way through the door they had entered, not into his room.

She watched him as he walked away, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his collar open and his hair all out of place now. She could fully appreciate just how tall and strong he really was, and how his hair now a little messy made him look more handsome than when he had it perfectly in place.

“Miss! -- Ma’am!” Rae greeted her

“Don’t worry, I am not yet used to being a Ma’am. I’m so very glad you decided to join me, Rae.” She mused that she was used to the Lady title in a way, but of course no one had ever addressed her as such.

“Should I draw you a bath? I’ve already set out some choices for you to wear to dinner later”

“Yes, please, I would like to take a bath”

“Yes, ma’am. I will have tea sent as well, as you wait for the bath to be ready”

“That’s very thoughtful, thank you, Rae”

She was left alone with a soft click on the door. She took a look around the large room. It had two windows, the largest one a bow window similar to the one in the library, but not as tall. It was in the same orientation, so during the day it would be a very bright room when the curtains were apart. There was a small desk in front of it, already fully stocked with ink and paper, surely Rae’s doing. A large wardrobe stood near the door she had come in, and then she noticed that opposite the bow window there was another door. She went to inspect it and found that was the bath room, which had another door which would open to the hallway, so it must be a shared bath. She couldn’t help blushing at the thought of her husband bathing, she immediately closed the door and kept inspecting her bedroom.

The four post bed was much bigger than the one she had had in her maiden room, it was dressed in simple soft lilac linens. At the foot of the bed there stood her locked chest. She went to check it remained unopened and sighed in relief. It carried the contents that had inhabited under the floor board at her mother’s house.

A moment later there was a soft knock on the door and a young maid set the tea on the table near the smaller window, which looked out to the road in front of the house. She had her tea and after that took her bath. For dinner, she chose a shot silk burgundy dress with golden details over the deep blue muslin one. It might be too adorned for a simple dinner without guests, but it seemed to her it was more befitting for ending a day of celebration. To balance out she had Rae make up her hair in a simple, low chignon with just a ribbon used as a head band.

His smile told her she had chosen well, he seemed enormously pleased. Clearly he had thought of ending the day in a celebratory note as he was back in his coat and cravat.

“Are you feeling refreshed?”

“Yes, tea and a bath was just what I needed”

As they entered the dining room, Penelope was struck by a portrait adorning the wall at the far end of the table. It was a beautiful young lady of very pale skin and golden hair, enveloped in a marvellous pink ball gown. She was smiling as if she could see something wonderful across the room, and there, at the other end, was the pair portrait of a man. His hair was a darker blonde, sported a thick moustache but no beard and seemed stately as he was portrayed wearing full regalia. He was also smiling, but a little more dignified, even though his head seemed to be slightly tilted as if something were in the way of what he was looking at.

“My mother and my father” He looked quickly at both paintings, but his stare landed on Penelope’s face as she surveyed them herself.

“I see he was a handsome man, but she was truly breathtaking” She said full of admiration. “And the portrait is so well done, I can tell the texture of the silk, and I can almost smell the jasmines” There were no jasmines depicted, but she had remembered that their fragrance reminded him of his mother. He was surprised and touched that she remembered.

Above the fireplace there was a rustic landscape, which barely showed a red brick manor peeking among the trees near a lake, more prominently shown were various animals grazing on the grass. It was a fine work, but it seemed out of place. She would have expected a family portrait instead.

“The red building is the Derbyshire house. It is currently let by Stanhope”

“Is it a very beloved view?”

“Not particularly. In truth, I have not made any changes of my own to the décor. You have full authority on that regard now” He said, as they took their seats. Instead of being separated by the full length of the table, he sat at the head of the table, and Penelope on his right.

“Are you sure?”

“Is there much you wish to change already?”

“Not at all! But I do not want to cause a quarrel later for having moved something dear out of place”

“I daresay, there is nothing in this house, outside of my own room, that I would quarrel about”

She was reminded of Philippa saying that as soon as she took over their mother’s house her first order of business would be to get rid of the ghastly curtains and couldn’t help but laugh.

“My apologies. I was just reminded of a silly thing one of my sisters said once about my mother’s curtains” He seemed curious so she told him “Philippa called her curtains ‘ghastly’ right in front of her. She is not very concerned with the feelings of others or their perception of her.”

“But that could be a very good or a very bad thing, couldn’t it? One should have a modicum of consideration for the feelings of others”

“Oh, she can be mean but I no longer think it is out of any ill intention, and for her it seems at least to be freeing, I think.”

“But should that kind of freedom be at the expense of others? I still think consideration of others’ feelings is necessary”

“Lady Danbury once told me that one could speak their mind freely at any time if one could accept the consequences. I think Philippa has been doing exactly that, perhaps unknowingly”

“But what if the consequences do not only involve oneself? What if what is said only hurts others?”

“Have you ever been in such a position?”

“I do not believe I have ever found myself in a position where I didn’t have the choice to stay silent instead of being hurtful.” He declared and drank from his glass.

Penelope had of course given the matter some consideration already, a thousand times over. “I’d wager that a guilty conscience is a terrible consequence to endure, my Lord. If we were discussing an individual incapable of remorse or without a conscience entirely, then every point is moot. Such a person does not have any reason not to do exactly as they please in any case. But I have not yet met any such person. Thankfully, I might add.”

“And yet, there might be unexplored ramifications, and remorse is not very useful when damage has already been done. Once they’re said, words stay spoken.”

“If we could always take the time to consider every possibility then we should, but life often presses us and action should not be delayed”

He pondered out loud “I wonder what can possibly weigh on your conscience so.”

“That I let my mother choose those ghastly curtains without saying anything to stop her.” She smiled, cheekily and he shook his head, with an amused smile on his lips as she shrugged. “I am no philosopher, sometimes I just follow my thoughts until they unravel haphazardly.”

“I do so enjoy the unravelling of your thoughts and trying to keep up with them.”

She truly wished she could share the full truth with him, but nothing good would come from confessing that her biggest regret had been delaying action because she had considered everyone else’s feelings and the consequences that revealing the truth would bring upon them, and that this delay had probably caused more pain and irreversible damages than having outright hurt everyone much earlier.

That night they said goodnight in the shared space between their rooms. She decided to take him up on his word to wait. Her heart was still fighting a losing battle and the rest of her wanted to give it a respite. She told herself she needed to rest.

Alone in that strange bed, in that strange room her thoughts drifted to Colin, and she allowed it because she needed to exhaust the thoughts that led her to him time and time again. It was absurd that every time her husband touched her, kissed her, and whenever she felt a spark light up for him, she felt guilty. Every time she felt closer to him, she felt as if she were betraying Colin. How could the mere shadow of something that was never a reality, not even a possibility, be wedging itself into her marriage?

Maybe in another life they would find each other again, make all the right decisions and be able to avoid all of the heartbreak they had brought upon each other. But meanwhile, she needed to make the best of this life. So far it had started well, she could see herself being content, maybe even happy in that house, with her kind husband.

She would be alone for long periods of time, but she was used to being on her own, and London was not that far away if she felt the overwhelming need to see anyone. She would be there for the social season at least, as a respectable lady. She had been repeating all of these facts to herself for over a month now.

But try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking back to the night when she almost let her heart overrule her mind completely. She almost said yes to his desperate plea; he would divorce, they could get married and live somewhere else, far from the ton, far from everything they held dear but themselves, where it wouldn’t matter. She had been stunned. Even after they had kissed, so many months ago, she had never expected Colin to actually believe himself in love with her. It was a scene taken out of her most outrageous fantasies and she was caught completely by surprise.

It had been merely a week before. He had figured out which one was her window and thrown pebbles at it until she noticed him and came down. She had gone to meet him at the back entrance, through the kitchen in the middle of the night. It was madness, anyone could have seen them, in fact she wasn’t sure no-one had, but if they had, they chose to keep silent. She wondered if Eloise had told him that was how she used to get her to come out, but she doubted Eloise would have given that up to Colin.

“Are you out of your mind? What on earth are you doing here at this hour?” She had spatted in a low voice as she lead him to the garden, where the trees might offer better protection against anyone taking a peek through a window.

“Yes! Yes, I am out of my mind, Pen. I have been for a long time now. But in this moment, I’m sure I’ve never been more sane. I’ve come to beg of you, please do not marry him” His thumbs rubbed anxiously against his loosely clenched fingers, his face looked sick with dread.

“Oh, of course! Anything for you, Colin. Will that be all?” She said throwing her head back, furiously sarcastic.

“Do not mock me, please.” He instinctually moved his right hand to his chest, as if to protect his aching heart “I am serious. Marry me!”

“What? Have you been drinking?” She looked at him searchingly for signs of intoxication, while he shook his head. Her expression of disbelief clearly crushing him, she continued “You are already married! To my cousin!”

“I’ll divorce her! I love you, Pen” He took a large step towards her and took her hands in his, his next words soft but urgent, his face pleading “I do, I love you completely, with every fibre of my being, every part of my soul. Every thought, every dream and step I take, it’s all for you. I have been trying in vain to fill this void inside myself, but I understand now, that I will never be complete without you” He reached out to touch her face, his big palm cradling her face, feeling her warmth and trying to assuage the fear showing so clearly in her eyes. “I’ll divorce her and then we can… you and me can marry and go live somewhere very far away, where it won’t matter”

And as mad as it was she hesitated for the longest second, she had allowed herself to get lost in his eyes. He took full advantage of that hesitation to kiss her ardently, desperately and not only did she let him, she gave in completely, even as her good sense started to come in, she just told herself this would be the last time, their final farewell and then she would close his chapter in her story completely, but first she would commit to memory his taste, and the silkiness of his hair as she ran her fingers through it, the warmth and scent of him. They were in each other arms, him pressing her against the trunk of a tree. It seemed as if he knew her mind, for he did allow very little space to breathe, as if he feared that as soon as she were able to speak again, this feverish dream of his would be over for good, all hope gone forever.

When he finally parted his lips from hers and pressed their forehead against each other’s, his hands cupping her face, looking deeply into her eyes searchingly, she still found herself faltering. She had a lump in her throat and she found she was already crying, his thumb tenderly wiping away a tear streak. She just shook her head slowly, a sharp pain filling her heart as she saw his eyes were overflowing with tears as well, as he took a step back.

“I’m sorry. I know--” He tilted his head and closed his eyes, trying to regain his voice “I cannot ask you, I wouldn’t want you to disgrace yourself for me. But I had to.” His voice was broken, as he shrugged “I didn’t expect a different answer, but I had to. Forgive me.”

She nodded. “Colin, I will always--” He prevented her from admitting something that he already knew to be true in his heart, but he felt it would only destroy him hearing the confirmation from her lips.

“Please, don’t” he went back for one last soft kiss “good night, Pen” in a couple of quick steps he was out of her sight.

She never thought having Colin confess his love for her could hurt so much.

Chapter 17 -- Tumblr "clean" version

Chapter 17 -- in AO3 includes an explicit sex scene.

If you read it in AO3, please let me know if you think the sex scene is unnecesary. It is the first time I write one, I was feeling bold but I am unsure of it now. I took it down from Tumblr because it gave me the impression it either bombed or it was not showing up on people's feeds.

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