#your words up on the wall as youre praying for my fall and the laughter in the halls and the names that ive been called

[arriettyspin]

I did not have shamelessly blasting an Imagine Dragons song on repeat in the year 2024 on my bingo card, thanks Arcane

[libraryofloveletters]

Find Your Way Home

Daniel Ricciardo x Engineer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: the curse that is mclaren racing, < mclaren/zak slander, the highs and lows of Danny's career, monaco 2016, horner warning lmao, a few bitter words, angst, unspoken feelings, sadness, 2022 silly season and a few swear words.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: after plotting this, i realized that The Red String Of Me And You follows a similar timeline but this one is more detailed and sooo much sexier of me so enjoy it :)

---

RedBull Racing - 2014; Montreal, Canada.

Under-qualified crossed your mind every time you got into your chair on the pit wall.

You had recently graduated and you were lucky enough to snag a job with Red Bull Racing. You were told it would be a job at the factory, that you would be handling the reviews from the races from an engineering point of view.

Now you were sitting on the pit wall in Montreal, your driver in your ear. "Are we set?" His voice came through.

Your eyes scanned over the screens, pressing the button. "We're all set, Daniel."

Daniel was gunning for his first race win and you've been hoping and praying every weekend that he'd win. It was your first time as a race engineer and you were starting to think you two hadn't fully clicked yet, hence why you've yet to get a win.

He starts in P6 and his teammate Sebastian, was in P3 this weekend. There's a lot of pressure when your teammate is a 4 time world champion and you're sure Daniel felt it, especially on weekends like this.

You sat patiently, buzzing into him once more before they started the countdown. "Be safe."

"Safe is my middle name, y/n."

"Whatever you say, Joseph." The use of his actual middle name earned you a laugh. The radio falls silent; three, two, one, lights out.

It's a gruesome 70 laps, there's overtaking left and right, Daniel fights his way up to P3 and you're praying he can do what he does best. You watch as the laps count down towards the final one.

67, 68, 69, and into the final corner. The navy car crossed the line and it takes you a second to catch yourself. Christian squeezes your arm from next to you, a massive grin on his face when you register what just happened.

"YOU DID IT!!" You shouted into the radio, Daniel's laughter and hollering filled your ears and your heart with love and happiness, "we did it!" he shouts, correcting you.

Everyone's running, you're following the mechanics to under the podium, all of you squished up against the fence like sardines as the navy team awaited their two drivers.

Daniel had won, followed by Nico in P2 for Mercedes and Sebastian in P3 for RedBull.

Seb runs over to his half of the garage, there's a sea of navy and everyone is mixed up together but when Daniel gets out of his car, he's looking for one person and one person only. He spots you, a big smile on your face and even though he knows you'd never admit it, there are tears in your eyes.

The driver jumps straight into your arms, putting all of his weight on you and the fence. A few of the mechanics squeeze into the hug, holding Daniel so he doesn't crush you.

Your hands cup his face, well what would be his face under the helmet. His visor is lifted, brown eyes meet yours; the crinkles by his eyes signalling to the massive smile under the helmet.

"We fucking did it!" His shout comes out muffled.

You smile, nodding. Daniel is standing again, still holding onto you. He leans into you, arms wrapped around you with his face buried in your shoulder. You kiss the side of his helmet, hand reaching down to rub the top of his back. You internally gag at the dampness that meets your hand but that was the least of your concerns.

Daniel just won his first race.

Proud was an understatement.

--

RedBull Racing - 2016; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

He could taste the victory.

The win was reaching out to him, the finish line on the tips of his fingers and he could feel it slipping away from him.

"Pit now," you called to him, Daniel was confused by your sudden decision. "Tyres are good, y/n."

"Team decision, please pull into the pit lane."

Daniel groans letting you know he'll be there in a few seconds.

You saw when he pulled into the pits, watching as the mechanics scrabbled to get the tyres ready in time. They had Daniel sitting there, his position falling with each wasted second.

"What the fuck!" His radio was still on, you weren't even sure what you could tell him in that moment to make him feel better. He pulls out with a sense of speed you'd never seen before. He finds himself racing to beat Lewis coming out of the pit lane but the Mercedes turns into the corner before he gets the chance too, overtaking him.

"Why did we pit?" He asks you, you pretend not to hear him as you look over at Christian. The older man gives you a look, urging you to answer the driver.

Daniel calls your name once again, his voice making you want to cry; all of the horrible emotions mixed in with the guilt of the horrible pit stop made you sick.

You finally answer; "team decision."

He scoffs, it's like you can feel the tension over the radio, see the way his hands tighten around the steering wheel as he goes into the tunnel. "Bullshit, y/n."

"I'm sorry Dan-" "Stop, nothing you could say will make this better."

And with that, the radio fell silent. The nauseous feeling builds with each passing second, your leg shaking and your eyes staying fixed to the screen until Daniel crosses the finish line in P2.

It was better than nothing but you knew he could have won the race, you knew he would blame the team, blame the crew, blame you for this loss.

Christian squeezes your shoulder as he gets up, a smile on his face - his quiet way of telling you good job. He knows how difficult drivers can be, especially when things like this happen. The race engineers are the first to take the blame, you called him into the pit so you'd take the brunt of the anger.

You nod, hearing Daniel's voice over the radio, "place?"

"P2. Well done, Daniel."

"Okay."

Daniel stood next to Lewis, Checo on the other side of the Mercedes driver. It was quiet as you watched Daniel shake the champagne bottle, spraying over his fellow drivers. He had a smile on his face but you knew he wasn't happy. You knew him like the back of your hand and once again, the nauseous feeling creeped up the back of your throat, the feeling strangling the life out of you with each passing second. You had to go, you couldn't stand there and watch him like that, knowing you were the one he was blaming.

And that he did; not in so many words but the bitterness in his voice and way he spoke was enough to tell you he did not want to be there.

The interview replayed in the debrief that afternoon, the press officers wanting to go over something he had said.

"It hurts, this one hurts a lot. More than any other."

His words hurt you.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him, let alone be in the same room as him. There was a sense of despair, you couldn't shake it.

It wasn't until you were about to leave that you found yourself turning back, walking in the direction of his driver's room. You stopped outside the door; D. Ricciardo, 3 - with an Australian flag beside it. As you were about to knock, Michael opens the door, a bit shocked to see you.

"Is he in there?" You asked quietly and he nodded, stepping aside to let you in. Michael shuts the door on his way out, leaving the two of you alone.

Daniel's yet to turn around or yet to realize you were there. "I'm sorry," you speak, your quiet voice startling him. "I'm not sure what went wrong."

"Everything did."

"It wasn't my decision."

"You're my engineer; when I'm out there, it's me and you. It was your decision, y/n. Only yours."

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I really am."

"Nothing you can say will fix it, and I know you're sorry but right now, I don't want your sorry."

You nod, taking a step back. "Then what can I say? Or do?"

"You can leave," his arms fold over his chest. "Because if you stay, I might say some things I can't take back. I know we aren't cool right now but I don't want to hurt you, y/n."

"You already have," you give him a tight lipped smile, the sadness clear across your face. "Goodnight Daniel."

--

RedBull Racing - 2018; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

It was off to a good start, Daniel had managed to give it his all and snag pole position on Saturday. He was in a good mood, there's a smile on his face and the sun was shining down on Monaco which was a nice change from the rain that was setting up in the morning.

The cars on the grid, the drivers counting down the seconds to lights out. You buzz into him, waiting to hear the little click. Daniel's breathing comes through from his side.

“50% done, remember?” You tell him. 

“50% done.” He says, the radio goes quiet as he waits for lights out.

Daniel drove amazingly, despite the issues the car was giving him. He finds himself aggravated half way through the race, the car giving out on him and losing power; thus losing hope in himself. The win was slipping through his fingers all over again with each passing corner and turn.

The weight was lifted off his shoulders when you watched him cross the finish line as the winner.

"P1 baby!!!!" You shout into the radio, Daniel's hollering fills the line and a big smile on both of your faces. "We fucking did it!!" He laughed, driving his cool down lap.

You were by the fence, watching as he climbed onto the halo of his car. Daniel's hand in a fist, placed on his chest as the team cheered. You're sure you've got the goofiest grin on your face, squished between Christian and Adrian.

Much like he did after his first race win, he makes a beeline straight for you, his arms open as he jumps into yours. Once again, you find yourself struggling to hold the man up but you try your best, arms wrapped around him.

Daniel's squished against you, your hands on his helmet, holding where his jaw would be. "Got that other 50%."

"Redemption day baby!" He shouts, giving you one last squeeze.

The rest of the afternoon was like heaven on earth; the smell of champagne, RedBull and chlorine covered everyone, you all watched as Daniel dived into the pool of the energy station.

"Come on!" He shouts to you but you shake your head, "I'm not getting in there."

Daniel pulls himself out of the pool, running over to you. "Dan, no." Your finger stuck out to warn him, the man comes closer. "Stop it," you get up, about to run away. He grabs you before you get the chance to run away, his arms wrapped tightly around you before he jumps into the pool.

"Daniel!" You scream when you get back up to the surface, "oh my god!" You laughed, your hand passed over your face to wipe away the water. He laughs, swimming - more like blobbing his way over to you, his race suit was weighing him down.

He grabs your arm, pulling you to him. The team photographer takes a photo of the two of you; arms wrapped around each other, covered in disgusting pool water with the world's biggest million watt smiles on your face.

You smile at the man next to you, "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm proud of you," he smiles, hugging you once more. "I couldn't have done it without you."

--

RedBull Racing - 2018; Abu Dhabi.

The announcement over the summer break threw everyone for a loop.

Breaking News: Daniel Ricciardo set to join Renault Racing for the 2019 season.

You weren't sure how to handle it or what prompted it.

Well that's not entirely true; after Monaco, things went downhill fast. There was bad result after bad result and it was weighing heavily on him.

When he returned from the summer break, you didn't say anything to him about the departure from the team. You knew he must have thought about it, you don't just up and leave a team just like that. It was a hard decision for him to make.

The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel worse.

It was his last day, the race was over and Daniel had made his rounds to say goodbye to everyone. You had been busy when he made his way around the garage and hospitality but you felt like a general goodbye wasn't enough for the man who you have spent almost every day with for the last 4 years of your life.

You knocked on the door of his driver's room, Michael smiles when he opens the door. "Come in, y/n."

Daniel turns when he hears your name. "I uh, I forgot something in the garage, I'll be back." Micheal says, announcing that he's leaving so you'd get a moment of privacy.

The two of you were quiet, looking at each other for a moment before you spoke.

You break the silence. “So this is it?” 

“Yeah.” He nods, shifting from one foot to the other. You hum, lips pressed together as you look around. You'd never seen the room so empty. “Do you really have to go ?” 

Daniel smiles, “afraid so, bags are packed.” 

“You could always unpack.” 

He smiled, his heart aching at the sight of you. You reached out, your hand placed on his warm cheek. “But you’ll come back, right?” 

A sad smile on his face, bringing his own hand up to rest on yours. “In another life, maybe.” 

“You promise?” You stuck your pinky out towards him. 

He nods, interlocking his pinky with yours like you were children. “I promise.” 

--

Renault Racing - 2020; Imola, Italy.

The rain poured down, the night sky as dark as it could possibly get as you pulled your hood over your head; the race hadn't gone as well as you'd like but you were no longer needed for the night, on your way back to your hotel for some sleep and then home before you head off to Turkey.

You could barely see where you were going let alone hear anything over the rain. The sudden shelter over you caused you to look up; an umbrella, a black and yellow one to be precise.

The man next to you smiles when you turn to see who was next to you. "Hello stranger," he grinned, the big smile on his face.

"Hello Daniel," you smiled.

The two of you hadn't spoken much since he left RedBull, it was a hi and a hello here and there in passing but you've yet to have a proper conversation. Frankly, you aren't sure what to say without it being awkward.

"Need a ride?" He asks, his arm over your shoulder to pull you away from the rain. "If it's not too much trouble." You pull the hood off of your head, flattening a few fly aways.

Daniel leads you towards the parking lot, holding the umbrella over your head until you get into the car. The man backed out of the parking spot, the sound of the rain on the windshield filled the silence, you translated the road signs in your head as he passed them by.

"You looked good up there today," you say quietly, Daniel glanced at you when he came to a stop. "You were always suited for the podium."

"Top step though," he smiles and you nod in agreement. "I'm sorry.. about the race. Sucks for Max and Alex."

You shrugged; A DNF for Max and P15 for Alex, so all in all, a shit weekend. "That's racing, what can you do?"

"The good and the bad." He pulls off when the light turns green. "You know how it is," you smiled, picking at the chipped nail polish on your index finger.

"Daniel, can I ask you something?"

"Oh full name, you've got me shakin' in my boots, y/n; but yes you can."

You shift in the leather seat, smooth and expensive and suddenly you're aware of how wet your hoodie is. The question you wanted to ask slips away momentarily as you think of how much this must be damaging the seat.

"Y/n," he calls out to you, glancing over to make sure you were alright after you had gone quiet. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Why are you running, Daniel ?"

The question catches him off guard, the car comes to a stop as he pulls into the parking lot of your hotel. His jaw hung open a bit as if he was unsure how to answer you; which he was. You watched as he blinked, trying to gather the thoughts in his head into a cohesive sentence.

"I'm not."

You can't help but chuckle; those who are running never seem to realize that they are, in fact, running.

"You are. You have a habit of doing that, Daniel."

You reach over, your hand rests atop of his; Daniel's skin is warm in comparison to yours that's still ice cold from the rain. His free hand moves, his index finger tracing up and down your hands, from your knuckles down to your wrist; another habit of his. He would distract himself during boring debriefs, his fingers pinching at yours under the table.

He's quiet, still unsure how to answer the statement that he knows in his heart was true. His fingers wandering over your hand, the raised skin by your thumb felt out a pattern identical to his; a rose in the same spot only slightly smaller in size.

Daniel had talked you into it. Another habit of his, getting you to do things you'd never do otherwise.

You were scared, you thought it would hurt but somehow he managed to talk you into it. There you were in his hotel room, Daniel's hand in your free one as you two got matching tattoos.

It felt like a million years ago - so much has changed since then.

You speak again, breaking the silence. "I hope you find what you're looking for at McLaren. You deserve some peace, Dan. You and I both know it."

--

McLaren Racing - 2021; Monza, Italy.

Back where he belongs.

A hell of a drive, something only Daniel could have pulled off after the horrendous start that was McLaren. You knew it was the car, not him; if anyone asked you, the car was always at fault. Daniel was one of the most talented drivers you had ever come across and had the pleasure of working with. You'd tell anyone who asked, anyone who'd listen to you.

It was a lacklustre weekend for the team; Checo was in P5 and Max had a DNF after an accident with Lewis, which caused both drivers to lose out on points that were needed for the championship.

Despite RedBull not having a driver on the podium, you and a few of the mechanics that used to work on Daniel's side of the garage went to watch the podium to cheer him on.

You watched as he and Lando did a shoey, your face twisting into disgust much like the younger McLaren driver. Valtteri watched in a bit of confusion and disgust, shaking his head as he took a swing of champagne from the bottle like a normal person.

The champagne bottle in one hand and the other on the railing as he climbed up. Daniel shouts, a big grin on his face as he lifts the bottle above his head. Everyone cheers for him, clapping and shouting for the winner. You were needed back in the garage for a meeting so you couldn't stick around long but you made sure to text Daniel.

To Daniel Ricciardo: Congrats winner! Back on the top step.

You got caught up in the meetings, back to back that felt never ending. Eventually you have a chance to check your phone but when you feel your pocket, it's not there.

You must have put it down somewhere. You find yourself retracing your steps, asking each person you saw as you passed by.

"Y/n!" GP calls for you, getting your attention. "Looking for this?" He holds up a phone with a navy blue case, your initials inscribed in gold on the bottom.

You let out a breath, "how'd you know?"

He hands the phone over to you, shrugging. "You know I always know." You roll your eyes at your co-worker's theatrics and thank him for your phone before walking off. You see you've missed a few messages so you scroll through. One in particular catches your eye.

From Daniel Ricciardo: Thanks boss lady! Congrats to you too, you helped make me the man I am today.

The message pulled on your heart strings; it was true. You and Daniel were so young when you got paired up together. You learnt a lot about life and yourselves, how to be a good person and what you wanted from life, and most importantly, how to get it.

You grew up together and Daniel would always hold a special place in your heart.

--

McLaren Racing - 2022; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

You couldn't believe it.

After everything he's done for the team, he'd hurt him like that. What could you expect from a team when their CEO was a walking snake?

It was a chain reaction.

Sebastian had thrown everyone for a loop in Hungary, announcing that he would be retiring at the end of the 2022 season. That left Aston looking for a replacement that came from Fernando. There was an opening at Alpine now which they just assumed they'd fill with their reserve driver, Oscar.

Safe to say Oscar wasn't a fan of that plan, actually he wasn't even aware of that plan.

While all of this was going on, Daniel had publicly committed to McLaren for the next season and McLaren was giving away his seat to different drivers behind his back, including none other than Alpine's reserve driver, Oscar.

Eventually it did come out that Daniel would be leaving McLaren at the end of the 2022 season to no fault of his own.

Returning from the summer break, everyone is left to face the music; particularly Daniel.

His music shuts off when he pulls the key from the ignition. You had forgotten your pass in the car, walking all the way back to the parking lot to get it.

"Morning, y/n!" Daniel grins, stepping out of the car.

You smiled at him, knowing you can't show the anger you were feeling to that wretched team he has to work with for the rest of the season. "Morning, Danny. How are you?"

He laughs.

The question feels so stupid, he feels so stupid. Obviously there's the obvious, he's angry, upset, sad, mad; at who was the question. There's so many thoughts in his head, he isn't sure how to answer your question.

"Daniel, c'mon. Seriously. "

"I'll be okay, y/n. Life works in weird ways."

A huff slips past your lips, arms folded across your chest much like a disapproving mother. "Life working in weird ways is finding something you thought you lost years ago, not you getting sold out of your seat without your knowledge."

He gives you a sad smile, nodding in agreement. "I know."

You can't help but reach out, a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be okay."

"I always am, aren't I?"

--

Red Bull Racing - 2022; Abu Dhabi.

Headphones covered your ears, legs folded under you as you went over the last set of race footage.

You hadn't heard the door open, your eyes glued to the screen only looking away to scribbling something down on the page next to your laptop.

You barely get a second to look back before someone's hands over your eyes, startling you. Instinctively, you brought your own hands up, grabbing the person. The raised skin along the wrist and the arms was enough to signal who it was but the smell of his cologne filled the room. You let go of his arms, pulling the headphones off your ears.

Daniel smiles, his hands on your shoulders before you stand up and turn to face him. “Miss me, miss me, now you gotta-“ 

“Gotta what, Dan?” 

“Kiss me,” he says, his signature cheeky grin on his face. You can’t help but smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You smooth the wrinkles on his navy blue shirt, admiring him in the colours that meant home to him, to you.

Your hands held his face, “you came back.” 

“Pinky promises are sacred.” 

“That they are.” 

--

Scuderia AlphaTauri - 2023; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

He's back on the grid, his focus was on racing.

Daniel's excited to be back, it felt good to be back. Racing wasn't a burden anymore. Yuki was happy to have him, his new teammate welcoming him with a smile and a hug as did the rest of the Alpha Tauri team before he made his way to his driver's room.

The door was unlocked, left ajar slightly. Daniel just assumed the team was doing a last check, making sure things were in order.

He wasn't expecting a person to be in there. He found a woman, her back turned to him as she scribbled down something on the board.

He knows that handwriting from anywhere. The words let's fucking go written in all caps in bright blue.

"Hello," he calls, you turn with the marker still in hand. "Hello," you smiled.

Daniel can't help but laugh, "what are you doing here? Come to welcome me back ?"

"Something like that."

At that moment, Daniel noticed you weren't wearing your usual navy blue uniform. Today was different; a different logo, a different cut.

"What are you wearing? Why are you wearing that?" He points to the Alpha Tauri logo on your shirt.

Your brows furrow, a bit confused by his reaction. You thought he'd be happy to see you. "Do you not need a race engineer or.. you're just gonna wing it? Maybe you could borrow Michael to do it?"

"Don't be a smart ass," he rolled his eyes, dropping his bags as he walked over to you. "Thank you," he whispers, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You pat his back, trying to wiggle away from him. "No need to thank me, we have a lot of work to do."

"I've barely been here for 5 minutes and you're already hassling me."

"Someone's gotta do it," you smiled, leaving him there to settle in.

It wasn't until it was time for practice that you saw the man again, you're across from him on the pit wall, looking over the stats before you hear the radio buzz.

“We all set?” He asks. 

You look over the screens. “All set. Be safe.”

“Safe is my middle name, Y/n.” The words remind you of the path you walked along many many years ago. 

You smiled, waving to him as he pulled out of the garage. “Whatever you say, Joseph.”

--

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[little-diable]

Carnal Sin - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

I desperately needed to get this out of my system, I ain't sorry for that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader's mother had begged Priest Riddle to let the reader join his bible study, a bratty woman who wanted to make his life a living hell. Now it was time to finally teach her a lesson.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), face fucking, man handling, spanking, religious connotations, Tom being Tom

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (2k words)

“How can you possibly believe that?” Her laughter echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as if demons were carrying the sound. All eyes were focused on her, wide eyes that trembled with fear because of the blasphemous words she kept on speaking. But she didn’t care about them, didn’t even remember their names, no, all she cared about was the pair of dark pupils staring her down. 

“Excuse me?” His voice was sharp, urged on by the need to put her in her place. All other eyes snapped back to him, lowering their gazes in fear of the priest who was known for punishing those who didn’t dare listen. But she didn’t fear him, taunting him whenever their paths crossed. 

“Oh, don’t give me that. You and I both know you don’t believe in any of that yourself. Turning water into wine? That’s witchcraft, and witches should be burned, according to your little storybook at least.” Gasps followed her words, sounds that left (y/n) grinning as if she was the Devil herself, joining the bible study to make it a living hell for those who desperately clung to their belief. For a few seconds, he didn’t speak up, holding eye contact with her from his spot, but as she parted her lips to speak, once again set on laughing words she shouldn’t pronounce, he cleared his throat. 

“We’ll end our session here, I need to have a word with (y/n), alone.” She tried not to pay the heat his words shot through her any attention, trying not to squeeze her thighs together as she watched him rise to her feet. Neither of them spoke a word as the others hurriedly left the room, closing the door to give the two some privacy. Her eyes didn’t leave his frame once, the tall figure she’d imagine whenever she let her hands wander, chasing that high she was desperate for. Priest Riddle was dangerously handsome, fooling anybody whenever he wasn’t wearing his collar.

And yet she knew it was nothing more than a game, a game whose rules he was making. But she had never been good at following rules, set on breaking them like branches snapping beneath her shoes. 

“I wasn’t optimistic when your mother begged me to let you join, you know? I knew you’d only cause me more problems. But I promised your mother to try, to give you a chance. Well let me tell you, (y/n), I’ve never been a patient man. I think it’s time you learn a lesson.” The chuckle rumbling through her left him smirking, something she clearly didn’t understand fully to anticipate what he’d do to her tonight. 

“A lesson? What, should I fall to my knees and pray ten Hail Mary’s?” He crossed the room towards (y/n) with fast steps, hand shooting out to grasp her throat before she could flinch away. A shaky gasp left her at the touch, feeling his cold rings burn into her skin. Priest Riddle stared her down as if she was now living through her last judgment, set on taking her down to hell with him.

“A prayer won’t help you no more, God doesn’t answer the calls of sinners like you. The only one you’ll pray to will be me.” She was forced to her feet for a second, lips parted to let an excited sigh leave her. This is what she had been working for, knowing that he would eventually give in, eventually cross that line he had sworn to stay away from. But even a priest had his enemies, the carnal sin calling his name in quiet hours. 

“Let's hope your mouth knows what it’s doing. Onto your knees, let me fuck those bratty words out of you.” She could have sworn that his eyes grew darker as he spoke the words, watching her drop to her knees without a single protest leaving her. “I should have known, you’ll enjoy whatever I’m doing to you. It’s all about the power you think you have, forcing me to do something I promise I never would. Let me tell you, (y/n), even priests can beg for forgiveness, and forgiveness He shall always grant me.”

For the first time since meeting Priest Riddle, she felt some fear swapping through her, wondering if she was finally burning from the reckless play with fire. It was an unfamiliar sensation, yet so awfully exciting, she could only stare up at him with a smirk. 

He did quick work of his trousers, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his clothes. He was beautiful, a man crafted by God, what a shame he was destined to hide away beneath the black suits he wore. (Y/n) followed his ringed fingers, how he grasped his cock to push himself closer to (y/n). 

“Open that mouth of yours, let’s see how much you can take.” It was a dangerous game, and yet (y/n) had always lived for the thrill. She parted her lips, tongue exposed to his dark eyes. Within seconds he had forced his cock into her mouth, to the back of her throat. She gagged around him, had her vision instantly blurred by tears. 

Without waiting for any commands, she hallowed her cheeks, letting her tongue explore his cock for a moment before he began to move. Priest Riddle’s ringed hand found the back of her head, holding her in place as he fucked her mouth, high on the sound of her gasps, chokes, sounds he’d forever remember. She was a pretty sacrifice, worth the trouble she had forced him through, that much he was certain of. 

“How can there be no God when we get to experience something like this?” His raspy voice left her shuddering, words she could barely focus on, too concentrated on the feeling of his cock fucking her mouth. No other man had ever been this rough with her, and yet she knew that she had been addicted to Priest Riddle from the first day, hoping that they’d eventually end up like this. 

“Such pretty sounds for a woman this dangerous, it’s amazing how you try to fool those around you.” He spat his words as he used more speed for his thrusts, enjoying her gasps a tad bit too much, wanting to force his cock down her throat. But he wouldn’t give in, no, he’d only give in when he was buried inside of her, fucking her into oblivion. Perhaps she’d find her way back to God when he showed her the entry to the pearly gates, torn between two worlds as he fucked her breathless. 

Spit dripped from her chin, making a mess on the dark carpet she was kneeling on. She was desperate for some friction, trying to shuffle closer, and yet he didn’t allow her to go far, held in place by his tight grasp. Their eyes met, his full of danger, hers full of desperation, begging the man to finally pull her to her knees, to fuck her like she needed him to. 

“Do you think you deserve to be touched? Do you think you deserve to cum? I should have known you’ll turn into a cock-hungry whore the second I touch you.” A gasp left (y/n) as he pulled away, forcing her to her feet seconds later. She was pushed towards the black leather couch, trying to sit down though it seemed as if she was too slow for him. With his hand finding its way back to her hair, Tom manhandled her down onto the couch, drawing an excited moan from (y/n). 

“Open those legs, show me how wet you are from sucking my cock.” A whine left her at his words, legs spread to expose her soaked panties to him, hidden beneath her skirt. His cold fingers wandered up her legs, he shuffled her skirt up to her waist before he pushed her panties aside. The groan that left him at the sight of her bare cunt shot shudders down (y/n)’s spine, eyes close to falling shut. “Look at me, don’t you dare to even think of looking away.”

His palm came down onto her cunt, spanking the soft skin with more force than anticipated. (Y/n) choked on her gasps, eyes wide as she stared up at the smirking priest. Her lungs were aching, trying to hold onto her breath as she kept choking on the air flushing through her lungs, too excited to even speak up. 

“I can’t wait to fuck you stupid, force you to take every inch.” Priest Riddle’s words were enough to leave her moaning and gasping as he flipped her around. He had her pressed against the armrest while he positioned himself behind her.

“I’m on the pill, just fuck me, please.” His raspy chuckles filled the room, leaving her walls clenching in anticipation. (Y/n) felt him brush the tip of his cock through her slit for a second before he pushed into her, her eyes instantly fell close, fingers tightening their grip on the armrest with her nails clawed into the fabric. 

“God should strike you down for the sinful words you speak, allowing a man to fuck you because you’re selfish, wanting to give in.” She shuddered against him, unable to speak as he fucked her. His hips snapped against her behind with every thrust, forcing himself even deeper into her cunt, enjoying the way she felt wrapped around him all too tightly. 

“Fuck, feels so good.” (Y/n) mumbled the words, not trusting herself to speak up, voice caught in the back of her throat as he fucked her breathless. This is what they have been warned of, the carnal sin, a feeling so intense only those who weren’t allowed to touch one were able to make one feel. 

“And for that, you will submit to me from now on, you won’t go against me no more. You’re mine now, forever mine.” A sob clawed through (y/n), she didn’t understand the depth of the words he spoke, could only choke on a “Yes”, too focused on her high to overthink the consequences she’d have to face. Consequences of actions she had been desperate to go through with. Drunk on the feeling of her priest fucking her breathless. 

“Oh God, I’m so close, don’t stop.” Her words left him chuckling, she felt him near her ear, growling the words that were about to roll off his tongue.

“God can’t help you now.” She choked on her breaths, eyes rolling into her head as she sneaked a hand down her body. Her bundle of nerves pulsed against her fingers, giving herself the last final push to fall over the edge. The white, blinding sensation shot through her, leaving (y/n) trembling as he kept fucking her. 

His breaths grew shallow, she felt him twitch deep inside of her, about to cum with a devilish grin glued to his lips. (Y/n) had to cling to the couch, scared she’d faint from the intensity of her orgasm, unable to think straight as she was panting. The priest pulled out of her seconds before he came, painting her ass with his cum. 

Wordlessly he pulled away to reach for a towel. He cleaned her with a hum leaving him, staring down at her and the fucked-out expression she wore. Only slowly did she dare to turn around, looking up at him with wide eyes. She didn’t flinch as he cupped her cheek, forcing his thumb down on her tongue for a second. 

“I expect you back here tomorrow morning, don’t even dare to think that this was your only lesson.”

[i-heart-yellowstone]

Kayce dutton x reader

Reader tells gator to have a day surprising everyone with lunch " I just want you to know I appreciate you and want to be a part of the family " reader said " you are part of the family " john said kayce gets down on one knee in front of everyone

Always One Of US

The Dutton family always thanked Gator for serving everyone on the family ranch. He was a great cook and did an amazing job. But I decided that I needed to show my appreciation towards the family that I have been helping run their ranch for a few years. When Beth called me saying they needed a new ranch hand I instantly took up the offer. Making them all dinner and giving Gator the day off is the best way to show my appreciation and loyalty to the ranching family.

The front door opened while I was sitting the brisket in the center of the table along with some potatoes and some cookies that Tate had made earlier in the day for dessert. “Darling, what are you doing here. Did you help Gator do all this?” I heard Kayce’s voice enter the room where he removed his hat hanging it on the wall.

“Actually I made all of this. I gave Gator the night off.” I responded by turning around to face him, finally getting everything set out.

Kayce came over to me wrapping his arms around my waist bringing me closer. He leans down kissing me slowly and I lean up kissing him back since we hadn’t seen each other much today. “You didn’t have to do this for us.”

“I wanted to, Kayce. It’s not a big deal.” I ran a hand through his tousled curly hair smiling brightly.

The front door opened another time with John entering the dining room seeing us break apart from one another going to sit down at the table to eat our dinner. “This all looks fairly good.” John sat down at the head of the table with me and Kayce sitting across from each other in the chairs closest to him.

“Thank you for saying that, John. I made the meal tonight.” I explained swallowing the bite of meat I had in my mouth.

John had always looked up to me considering I had made Kayce realize that he could be better and run the ranch even if he wasn’t keen to the idea in the beginning. Kayce and I had gotten together a few weeks after he had finalized his divorce with Tate’s mother.

Our meal for the most part went fairly well. Kayce and I had cleaned up the dining table with John leaning in the doorway watching us for a few minutes before saying a word. “Y/n, I’m just curious as to why you thought you needed to make us dinner. I’m not saying anything in it was bad, it was amazing. But I just want to know why.”

“How about we go sit down and finish this conversation.” Kayce suggested and we all agreed moving back into the dining room sitting back in our sports we were in a few moments ago.

I sighed brushing my hair out of my face, eyeing the man who I admired from the first moment I had met him. This family means everything to me and I wouldn’t trade any of my memories here for something else. I just prayed they valued me as much as I did them. “I just want you to know I appreciate y’all and want to be a part of the family.”

John stands up from his head seat at the table. “You are a part of the family.”

“I am. I don’t understand.” I sent him a confused face.

Kayce lowered himself down on one knee right in front of me. Reaching inside his pants pocket he slowly opened a small black box showing me a simple gold ring. “Will you marry me, Y/n?”

“You bet your boots I will.” I removed my hands from my mouth wiping away the heavy happy tears that had began falling down my face.

Kayce slipped the ring on my finger barely giving me time to admire it when he scooped me up into his arms. I squealed as he twirled me around in a few circles of laughter coming from the both of us finally sitting me down on the wooden floor.

I tucked hair behind my ear, eyeing the ring on my left finger. “Kayce, you didn’t have to buy me a ring.”

“Funny enough I didn’t buy that ring.” He shrugged his shoulders with a light chuckle.

I felt like my voice went to a higher tone. “Huh?”

“I can clear up your confusion, dear.” John came to stand beside his youngest son placing a hand on his shoulder sending me a proud grin with tearful eyes. “That ring was bought years ago by me when I proposed to my wife Evelyn. It’s her ring that I passed down to him.”

I felt more tears slipping down my face, stepping around my fiancé so I could hug my father in law. “Thank you so much, John. I’m honored to call you my father in law.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to become my daughter in law for a long time.” He hugged me back and I mirrored his smile. Kayce opened his arms for me and I raced forward where he picked me up off the ground when I wrapped my legs around his waist.

Kayce led me outside for me to see two horses standing at the end of the wooden stairs. He took me to my horse and climbed on our separate horses with me following Kayce on horseback wherever he was leading me. I knew most of the ranch yet where we stopped I had never been before. “Kayce, where are we exactly?”

“It’s a place I don’t go too often. This - this is where my mother got killed on her horse.” He explained to me slowly walking up to the fence holding my hand in his until we reached the fence.

I squeezed his hand, sending him a weak expression. “Kayce, I’m sorry.”

“It's okay. I told myself that when I found the right girl for me. I'd take her to meet my mom.” He explained simply looking down into my eyes.

A question fell from my lips. “You never took Monica here?”

“Given my fathers reaction got me branded. I figured my mother wouldn't have liked to hear I knocked up a girl in high school.” He rubbed the back of his neck, throwing his head back pushing that memory away about the brand. “Besides she clearly wasn't the one for me. You are, Y/n L/n.”

“To be honest I’ve been waiting for you to say those words for a while, Kayce Dutton.” I turned to face the cowboy draping my arms around his neck nuzzling my nose against his own.

He grinned down at me, wrapping his arms around my waist tugging my body against his chest connecting his lips with my own. “Well I’ve been waiting far too long to call you wife, my darling, my Mrs. Dutton.” Leaning my body into the kiss we stumbled slightly into the wooden fence just getting lost in kissing the other.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Politely requesting: the first time Auron sleeps over at Rook's place instead of the other way around

What a cozy little place.

Following after Rook, Auron smiled fondly seeing them open the door to their apartment. Going in quickly they made a ta dah motion to their living arrangement. The red head looked around and smiled, it looked so homey, or as much as you could with a small apartment.

"I like your decorations." Simply saying, Auron chuckled seeing Rook puffing their chest out slightly at the complement.

"Thanks! Most of these are either hand me downs from family or thrifted!" Explaining, Rook then went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Do you want a drink? I think I have soda?"

Looking through it Rook grabbed some drinks, grabbing their favorite and turning to Auron. Who hummed and shook his head, deciding to sit on the couch. It felt nice under his hand, looking around this was very different then his pent house.

"It's weird being in such a small space. Not that I mind, it just feels more lived in?" Trying to explain his words. Auron blinked as Rook plopped down next to him giggling.

"Yeah, instead of one room having a personal touch everything does. Except the front closet. I just throw shit in there and pray nothing falls." Laughing at their words. Rook grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, wondering what they should put on.

"What not going to give me a tour?" Asking jokingly, Auron snorted a bit at Rook's reaction. He got a blank stare as they began pointing at different places in the apartment.

"Uh, kitchen, hallway to the right is the bathroom the left is my room and that's all really." Shrugging Rook looked at their partner. "What wanted to see my room? We can do that right now."

Getting up Rook tugged Auron to follow, the red head laughed and followed after them. Seeing pictures of people and things on the walls of the hallways. Before turning left and entering their room, seeing the room made Aurom smile.

"Wow, it really fits you." Looking around, Auron picked up a small plushie. Rook waved him off sheepishly and moved a few things off the floor.

"Thanks, but I could have definitely cleaned up." Chiding themselves, Rook grabbed a hamper with dirty clothes and walked out. Auron blinked at being left alone, wow they really trusted him.

Turning to their bed he sat down and smiled at how comfy it was. Also chuckled a but seeing how packed full of things making it seem all plushed.

"Okay so, I threw a load in. If you wanna change I got a big shirt that might fit you? If you wanna wear it, it's in my closet. I'm going to make dinner. Do you care if its ramen?" Words snapped Auron out of a trance. The red head turned and saw Rook fully in a comfortable outfit.

A big shirt that hes pretty sure was his and some shorts. Rook came in and looked in their body mirror by the door poking at their face. Then turned to look at Auron for a response.

"No, I don't mind dear." Answering them, Auron got up and went to the closet. His partner threw a smile before leaving to the kitchen.

Looking through the closet the CEO was thinking how he could just take a shirt and keep it. Shaking the thought away to contemplate next time, he changed. Jumping a bit when Rook yelled about the hot water touching their hand.

"You okay?" Worried, Auron rushed out of their room. Only to see Rook stirring the noodles looking at him funny.

"Oh my god! I forgot that shirt had that!" Laughing Rook wiped their tears. Confused Ahron looked down and deadpanned seeing the words on the shirt.

'Sexy bitch' in bright pink colors with a stripper on it. Sighing Auron looked at Rook, their laughter making him roll his eyes and smile. Maybe coming to their place was the better choice.

[peggyao3]

Pt. 13 - (Pseudo) Pregnancy

A/N: The only trope yee aunt Peggy will never ever write is actual pregnancy… Meanwhile cannibalism, dune-typical incest, non-con, no problem, but pregnancy is just too close to irl body horror for me, but luckily I can make up anything in the world of fiction and beat the trope into a shape of my liking 😂😌 thank you @nocturn-warrior for the spark of inspiration to pick this prompt hehe 🤭

Can be seen as part of the Night Crawler universe, I think <3

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, breeding kink, descriptions of pregnancy symptoms without an actual child growing in there, FMC is thin enough to see a distension of the womb, squirting, dub-con

WORD COUNT: 450

"You're whining so much today," Feyd-Rautha groans, situated warm and hard between her spread thighs.

"Yes," she grates out through clenched teeth, pushing against her husband's round shoulders with no real fight aside from the nails that scrape over his velvety skin. "I'm too full and you damn well, a-ahhh, k-know it!" 

A hard jab of his cock has made a splash of wetness spatter against his hard abdomen and she burns up with shame, feeling the wet glide of skin against her already distended belly.

"Too full, sweetling?" Her insatiable husband grins black and wide, slowing his thrusts and canting his pelvis against the spot that causes her nerves to jitter and more essence to drip past the root of his cock. "I think there's room for a few more of my whelps in your warm, little womb."

Her channel spasms around his obscene girth upon that and he taunts her with laughter. His sweet wife is rotten and can't help the twitching of her needy cunt at the thought of being bred round and full by her virile husband.

All of this is just play. The na-Baron doesn't like the idea of sharing the attention of his treasured toy with a bawling, nagging, vomiting offspring. She can all but pray that it remains this way. Forced into marriage and this play of pretend, she won't allow him to force her into anything else, or their marriage will end in a bloodbath.

"Mmmh, just be still, my darling. Your husband knows what's best for you." Feyd-Rautha picks up speed, stuffing himself into her slick hole despite her indignant whines about the change of tempo. "If you don't wanna keep still, I might just strap you in next time, put you in a harness like a broodmare and stuff you so full that my seed drips down your legs."

His cock jumps against her snug walls and he lets his head fall forward, drool on his lips when he empties himself with stuttering hips, forehead pressing against his wife's. She shivers when his eyes snap open, dark and yearning beneath blonde lashes.

With every rush of seed into her body, the artificially injected cocktail of enzymes that lies dormant in her blood induces a rush of amniotic fluid into her womb. The pressure makes her groan and whine and that's also how she knows it's not real, because it happens too fast. 

Feyd reaches one hand between their bodies, the one with the wedding band, and pats her belly, whispering with gravelled breath how pretty she looks, swollen with his heir and how well she carries his Harkonnen brood.

The effect lasts only a couple of days— But Feyd-Rautha fucks his wife more often than that.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring

[strawchocoberry]

PIERCING TENDENCIES

Our love’s sick and twisted

kinktober 2024 — day seven

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. hoshina soshiro x fem reader

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. smut, sensory deprivation, knife play, nipple play, spanking, choking, dacryphilia, breeding kink

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. confession from the hotel room — word count. 1.6k

You’re running out of time. You know you are, as every room and possible hiding spot you check are already taken. And you know that if you were to check the time, you’d probably have what? A minute? Maybe even a few seconds left. In a feat of panic, you throw yourself in the last room of this corridor, room 2033. Luck seems to be on your side, seeing how there’s nobody here. You don’t have the luxury to wonder why, immediately hiding yourself in the closet, when you hear the horn meant to signal that they’re coming.

The game is simple. All the girls must hide within this hotel reserved for tonight in fifteen minutes. After the time is up, the guys will start searching for them. If any of them find a girl, anything can happen; from having a simple talk or no talk at all to having the nastiest sex one can imagine. It all depends on who you end up with. As to why you got involved in this game, you’ve already forgotten, silently praying not to be found in your hiding spot.

And then you hear it, the door opening and locking. You hold your breath as you hear someone pacing in the room, the sound of clothes shuffling reaching your ears, making you gulp down hard. Realisation hits you. “Whatever you do, stay away from room 2033. It’s his room,” the whispers of the girls from before the game started come back to your mind. You hold your breath, hell even your blood has frozen, as you try to become one with the closet. Surely, he’ll leave once the game’s over. Until then, all you have to do is stay quiet and—

“My my, look what I found here.” There’s a darkness behind his seemingly gentle smile.

Hoshina Soshiro, the owner of room 2033. You can see your terrified expression reflected in his red eyes, as he scrutinises you. He catches your wrist and pulls you out of the closet, his expression softening.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” he says, pushing you to sit on the bed. He takes a few steps away and turns around to look at you, while leaning against the wall with his arms folded to his chest. “You can leave if you want. I doubt you came here knowing this was my room.”

“And what if I did?” You’re more surprised than him when the words come out of your mouth and with such confidence.

Hoshina is taken aback for a moment, then he bursts into laughter. And the next second, he’s pinning you down on the bed, pushing his body between your legs, his lips so close to yours, you think your heart will stop. His expression is unreadable, hidden in the mysteries of his mind. His hand covers your eyes, darkness engulfing you.

“You sure you can handle me?” he whispers in your ear, his voice low and husky, desperate even. And it makes your entire body tremble. “Because I’m not one to hold back.”

“Then don’t.” Who the fuck is this person who’s possessed you? The answer is nobody. It’s just… you. The one you usually hide behind your mask. But tonight, there’s no need for masks. There’s no need for holding back. It’s just you and him. And you’d be a fool to let such an opportunity pass you by just like that.

Hoshina gets off and you look at him confused, as he walks to the closet. He searches for something, then returns to you, holding a silk piece of fabric. He ties it around your eyes and pushes you back down on the bed, taking his shirt off and letting it fall on the floor next to you.

“Hope you don’t break too quickly, doll,” he whispers in your lips, before he’s kissing you, taking your lips hostage to his feverish kiss.

One by one, he removes your clothes, until you’re left in nothing but your underwear. Feeling a cold metal against your skin, you squirm and reach out to grab it, when Hoshina pins your hands to the bed. You realise he’s holding a knife, trailing it along your neck, letting it rest over your carotid artery, your blood anxiously pumping in the vein.

“Careful, doll. Don’t move so suddenly.” He kisses your cheek. “I wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.”

Using the knife, he slides your bra straps down your arms, as if testing the waters, as if testing your reaction. You feel him skilfully slide the blade underneath your bra, in the valley of your tits, and cut the lacy garment in one swift move, leaving you gasping. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel scared at all. But most of all, you are feeling excited for what the night has in store for you.

Hoshina traces your skin with the knife, leaving a trail of goosebumps all over your heated skin. The coolness of the blade is welcomed, yet does little to put out the fire within you. He rubs the flat side of the knife on your nipple, watching it turn into a little erect bud, before switching to the other nipple. Your low breathy moans satisfy him. But most of all he’s glad you haven’t pushed him away yet.

He bites and sucks on your breasts, his fangs piercing your sensitive skin and making you whimper his name, curving a sadistic smirk on his lips. Hoshina trails his knife further down, stopping right before your panties. He cuts the waistband on both sides, loving the way you squeal in surprise. Your entire body is covered in goosebumps, trembling underneath his cruel touch. And yet you don’t seem willing to leave.

“You’re so cute right now,” he says, kissing your jaw, before capturing your lips once more, sliding his knife across your neck.

Breaking the kiss, he lets go of your arms and rests the knife on your stomach. You hear him unbuckle his belt, before pulling his trousers and underwear down, enough to free his hardened cock. He looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, stroking his dick to how utterly adorable you are right now, naked and shivering beneath him, yet with no intention of running away. When was the last time somebody didn’t run away from him? Even he doesn’t remember.

Hoshina grabs your ankles and places your legs on top of his shoulders, then picks up his knife to rub the flat side on your folds, eliciting a low moan from your lips. Bringing the knife to his lips, his tongue darts out to lick off your arousal from the blade. Aligning himself with your already dripping hole, he thrusts inside entirely, stretching you out painfully. Your hands grip the bed sheets tightly as you bite down on your lip to stifle a sniffle.

He groans at the feeling of your tight pussy engulfing him. “Fuck…” Hoshina holds the knife to your neck, while holding onto your legs with his other arm, as he starts pounding into you, slowly yet roughly. Each thrust leaves you choking on your own painful screams and tearing up more. The sight of your tears streaming down your cheeks makes his cock twitch inside you.

Your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. You scream his name loud enough for everyone in the hotel to hear you. But you don’t care. You don’t care if they hear you. You don’t care if he mocks you for cumming so early. You only care about him continuing to pleasure you like this. When he pulls out of you, though, leaving you empty and clenching over nothing, you can’t help but let out a whimper in complaint. Hoshina shuts you up by kissing you again.

He pulls you up, having you sit on his lap. He’s still hard underneath you and you can’t control yourself not to grind against him. He breaks the kiss, groaning, slapping your arse with the knife. “So shameless,” Hoshina coos to your lips. “So desperate.”

“As if you’re not itching to cum.”

“You want to make me cum, doll?” he asks. “Is that it? Have you become cockdrunk on me so easily?”

You let out another whimper, hating how you feel your cheeks blushing. “So what if I have?”

Hoshina thinks for an answer for a moment, thrusting inside you in the meantime and feeling you clench around him once more. He slaps your arse and brings the knife back to your throat, your breath instantly hitching. “Then you better start riding me.”

Your brain doesn’t even think before giving the order and you start riding him. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, fingers getting tangled in his soft hair and pulling at it, making him grunt against your lips, the sound so masculine and hot, it makes your pussy clamp down on him. Hoshina discards the blade, choking your neck with his hand and devouring your lips as he spurts ropes of cum inside your tight cunt, marking his territory. He breathes hard against you, his dick still buried inside you, still hard and aching for you. His hands wrap around your body, holding you tightly to him.

“You can try all you want,” he whispers, the dark promise in his words making you start moving your hips again. “But I’m not letting you go.”

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 9

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Okay remember when I said there would be a lot more angst? Well here we are. We have arrived at angst station, everybody off the train. This part is so dramatic I really laid it on thick here. Regardless I hope you enjoy and I will try to get part 10 up ASAP!!!

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexism, super heavy angst, this got really dark, violence, blood, implied rape (but not described), did I mention violence?, (I'm sorry you guys.)

Word Count: 6,333

The next morning I wake up in my own bed and I don’t move for hours. 

Thankfully, after about an hour of crying by the Sidra, Azriel found me and took me back to the House of Wind.  Apparently Cassian had sent him, which gave me a little bit  of hope. That is until I went to his door and found his room empty. According to Azriel he left for Windhaven after returning home to pack a bag.  I didn’t need to interrogate further to know that Cassian wouldn’t be back before the wedding. 

I spent the entire day before the wedding in bed, staring at the sliver of light on the floor that the curtains let into the darkened room. Everytime I close my eyes I could hear Cassian and I’s laughter, which made me unable to fall asleep. When I wasn’t reminiscing over memories of Cassian I was listening intently to the sounds of the house, hoping I would hear his heavy boots thudding back to his room. I just wanted to see him one last time. 

However, those footsteps never came, and I found myself staring at the wall until my body gave up on me, from either exhaustion or hunger and I fell asleep.

Cassian’s pov: 

The second I landed in Windhaven I cracked open a bottle of whiskey and downed a glass praying it would allow me to sleep. Of course I was wrong. 

The entire night I saw images of y/n holding that little girl in her arms. God I had practically melted right then and there, thinking about what she would look like holding our own children. How adorable they would be with their tiny wings. 

My sleepless night had carried over with me the next day, everything and everyone putting me on edge. A young Illyrian had dropped their sword while sparring and I blew up at him. Devlon tried to argue that the females shouldn’t be training and I nearly slammed his head into a wall.

I was aggressively sharpening my swords on the edge of the sparring ring when Azriel found me, my brother simply  nodded his head towards the center as if to say “blow off some steam big fella.” I couldn’t turn him down, as he was the only one who could give me a run for my money, and today he sure did. 

“You fight like shit and you look like shit too brother,” Azriel barked after beating me again. He tossed his sword to the ground seemingly calling it quits for the day. 

“Yeah well my mate is about to marry another male in the next 12 hours so how did you expect to find me?” I gripe at him taking my seat on a weathered rock. 

“I suppose I wouldn’t know what to do in your situation either,” he admitted, taking a seat next to me. 

“Seems about right for me. Grew up a bastard and lived in the mud till you and Rhys’ sorry asses came along. Lost my mother and never even got to bury her, fought for 500 years, and then became mated to the princess, who is marrying another male.”  I scoff, shaking my head at the ridiculousness. “I’ll give the mother one thing, at least she’s consistent.”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, as if taking in what I had said before clapping a hand on my back, “The pain, it will go away Cass. It will take time, but I will be there with you every step of the way.” he assured me, and for a moment I felt a little lighter. 

“Get wasted with me tomorrow?” I ask more seriously than I should.

“You know I will,” he said, offering me a slight smile. 

I hoped that Rhys had gotten some more whiskey since the last time I raided his cabinet, because I don’t think any amount of drink could make me forget the way she looked at me the first morning we woke up together. The way she would laugh when I kissed her cheeks, the feeling of her delicate hands running soap over my wings. How she would say “you need a bath!” when I would give her a sweaty hug after training. The face she made when I distracted her from one of her romance novels by tickling her feet that rested in my lap.  

By the cauldron, I was a dead man. 

y/n's pov:

Stepping into the Autumn Court felt like I was walking to my own execution. Instead of Eris being at the end of that aisle there would be a guillotine. I almost wished for that instead. Any comment made by Rhys about how I seemed tired I chalked up to pre-wedding nerves and thankfully he didn’t push after that. 

The entire morning had been spent poking and prodding at my skin, my hair and my eyes.  If I thought that Nuala and Cerridwen were meticulous I was sorely mistaken. The ladies of the Autumn Court didn’t mess around and if this was my life going forward (which sadly it was), cauldron boil me. 

The ladies in wait primped me up until a half an hour before I walked down the aisle. I had to literally commande them out of my suite in order to have a moment alone. I sat staring at myself in the floor length mirror. For what it was worth, I looked beautiful. I half expected the dress that was chosen for me to be  awful and gaudy, however it was elegant. The lace along the neckline mimicking the flames associated with Eris’ power. Had I been walking down the aisle to a different groom, I might venture to say that I was excited to be married. However as I stared at myself in my white wedding dress I couldn’t help but feel a tear slide down my face. 

A tentative knock reverberated through the room, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I took a deep breath and wiped away a stray tear. 

“Come in,” I said with shaky words looking at the double oak doors through the mirror before me.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was looking around the room before entering. A large figure finally popped it’s head in, eyes finding me immediately. I would know that jet black hair anywhere. 

Cassian. 

I whirled around to meet his gaze as he shut the door, taking slow and tentative steps towards me. His eyes searched my face for any hint of anger or resentment. 

“Cass,” I breathed, as if to assure myself he was really there. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled looking me up and down, but I could see the veiled sadness on his face. He was putting on a front, and a bad one at that.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a tentative step towards him. “How did you get in here?”

“They don’t have you that well guarded,” he chuckled, stepping closer till he stood before me. Neither of us reached for one another, unsure of where we both stood. It felt wrong not to instantly wrap my arms around him. “I don’t like where we left things,” he continued.

“Neither do I,”   

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I yelled at you that night. I’m sorry about the things I said,” he starts again. His hands reach for mine but pull back as if afraid to touch me. “I wanted to say that I understand now. And that I think you are incredibly brave to be doing this for Velaris. I’ll never be happy that you’re marrying Eris, and I’ll always wish it was me. But I understand now, and I respect the love you have for your people, and the lengths you’re willing to go to to keep them safe. Will you forgive me?” 

I feel the stray tear pricking my eye once more, “There was never anything to forgive Cass. I was more upset with myself for giving you false hope. For going along and loving you and acting like things were going to be alright when I couldn’t guarantee it.” I sigh, casting my head down, unable to face him.

I feel his gentle calloused hand tip my chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes, that beautiful hazel, glassed over. Despite it all, despite what I put him through, there is still so much love in them, and I know I’ll never really deserve it.

“Loving you was the greatest gift I’ve ever known, and ever will know,” he smiles as if he’s remembering the short time we did have together. “I’ll be here waiting if you should ever change your mind or in case something ever happens.” 

“Cass,” I start to protest but he stops me.

“I’ve loved you for so many years y/n. There can be no one else but you. If I don’t get to have you until we are both old and gray so be it. I’ve waited this long,” he assures me cupping my cheek.  

I don’t even have words to reply to his confession. Boundaries be damned. I threw myself around him pulling him as close as possible. His arms tighten around me like he had been waiting for me to make a move. In the embrace there’s an understanding, an unsaid agreement.

I back away to see those hazel eyes once more, my own eyes raking over his body. I notice he’s not dressed in a fine suit jacket, or even his fighting leathers. Instead, he’s donning a loose fitted shirt, something completely unfit for a royal wedding. 

“You’re not staying are you?” I ask, pressing a hand to his stubbled cheek that tells me he didn’t shave this morning.

“No, I just had to see you one last time,”  he answers, taking my hand from his cheek so he could hold both of them. 

The weight of his words shoot right through me, and as I look at him, I let them sink in. I watched as a tear slid down his own cheek, it was the only time I had ever seen the general cry. 

“One last time,” I repeated, letting the words consume me. 

His eyes glanced down at my lips, a silent plea to taste them again,

“Can I?” he whispered. 

“Gods yes,” I sigh. 

A hand drifted up cupping my cheek and pulling me into a kiss. The last kiss we might ever share. I poured every ounce of love into it trying to give him something to remember me by, trying to savor every moment of it for when my days ahead were darkest. My chest heaved as if being pulled forward and then…

Snap.

It was as if a piece of me was returned, one I never knew I lost. I pulled back to meet his gaze and by the way he looked at me I could tell he knew, had known. I felt like I was truly seeing him for the first time as that shimmering golden bond glowed between us.

“You’re my-” I started but I jumped at the bang sounding throughout the room. 

My eyes met the fiery auburn of Eris’ as he entered the room, at least twenty autumn court soldiers behind him. I didn’t have time to step away as he winnowed to me pulling me away from Cassian. 

“You!” he seethed at my general who was already assessing the situation. “I had my suspicions but never the proof and you fell into my trap so easily.” he boasted.  

My thoughts scrambled to what Cassian had said earlier…”They don’t have you that well guarded.”

“Restrain the bastard!” Eris ordered his grip on my arm tightening at the command. 

“No!” I screamed lurching for Cassian but Eris hauled me back to him. 

The soldiers were on him in an instant all of them falling like dominos before The Lord of Bloodshed. Cassian’s eyes blazed with a fury by the likes of which I had never seen before, he wasn’t a general protecting his princess. He was a male protecting his mate. 

Eris’ body tensed behind mine as soldier after soldier fell. In an act of desperation I felt him unsheathe the dagger at his thigh, pressing the blade to my throat. 

“Oh general,” Eris sang. 

It was enough to catch Cassian’s attention for a split second, his eyes widening as he saw the position I was in. A  rogue soldier used the small window of time to pull his dagger and stab it through Cassian’s side. 

“NO!” I screamed as Cassian hissed, his knees hitting the floor. Immediately the rest of the soldiers were on him, restraining him and binding his wings. His siphons tried to come to light but sputtered out.

“Bloodbane,” Eris smiles, lowering the dagger from my throat. “Stings like a bitch doesn’t it?” 

“Eris please, don’t do this. He’s my mate, I didn’t know until now and-” 

“I would choose your next words very carefully, pet,” he cuts me off. “Right now your ‘mate’ has been stabbed with a dagger laced in bloodbane, which means that even if your dear brother did know he was here he couldn't communicate with him. As for Rhysand, he now sits in a wedding chapel completely unaware and unarmed with a bloodbane arrow aimed for his fucking throat. And last time I checked the only asset you had was a magic cunt.” 

Cassain growled from the other side of the room at Eris’ vulgar words. My eyes flitted to where he was pulling against the restraints. 

“However, I consider myself a merciful ruler,” Eris taunted, grabbing my face to meet his stare. “I’ll give you a choice. You either walk down that aisle, be a good little wife, and pop out a couple of heirs as promised, or you call off the wedding and I’ll gut your precious general where he kneels.” 

“y/n, no!” Cassian gritted through bared teeth. 

I watched my mate struggle to break free, the bloodbane in his system beginning to take over. I looked to Eris who stared at me with hungry eyes. I tried to think of some way out of this, but Eris was right. We had fallen right into this trap, and my hands were tied.

My gaze met Cassian who could read my face like a book, “I’m sorry Cassian, but I once told you that I could never live with myself if something happened to you and I had the power to stop it.” I turn to face Eris and his shit eating grin. “If you promise not to hurt him, or my brother, I will go with you.” 

“You will submit to me fully?” Eris asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I nod, my mind flashing back to when Rhys was in the same position. 

Eris steps closer to me, tilting my head up in an act of dominance, his mouth too close to mine for comfort. I could hear Cassian’s grunts as he continued to try and break free. 

“And you’ll warm my cock whenever I please?” he muses, clearly loving the control he has over me. 

“Yes,” I grit. 

He smiled triumphantly, releasing my chin as he turned to his guards, “Take him away and lock him in the dungeons.” 

“You said-”

“When you walk down that aisle and say ‘I do’ then I shall send him back to the Night Court, Jewel of Prythian. I won’t be taking any chances.” Eris growls in my face before turning to Cassian who had now been brought to his feet. “If I ever see you in my court, or anywhere near my wife again Prince of Bastards, I will make sure that she pays the price.” 

“You fucking bastard!” Cassian roars, body nearly limp from the bloodbane as he’s hauled off by the guards. 

“Wait, let me say goodbye!” I cry running to him, but I’m yanked back by my arm so roughly it nearly pops out of its socket.

“Your obedience begins now!” Eris grits but I pay him no mind thrashing about in his grasp trying to touch my mate once last time as he disappears behind the oak doors. 

“Cassian!” I scream for him, tears waterfalling over my eyes.

“y/n!” he shouts back. 

But it’s too late. The doors close with a definite slam and I’m left weeping in Eris’ grasp as I hear the sounds of Cassian struggling down the hall. 

Cassian’s pov: 

Eris was right, the bloodbane hurt like a bitch. Even an hour later as I sat on the cold, wet floor of the Autumn Court cell, the toxin still made me feel lethargic. As if I had taken the world's strongest sleeping tonic. 

The worst part of it all was that I could hear everything. The organ playing signaling that y/n was walking down the aisle and the cheers of the people as they finally said their vows. The worst and loudest of them all were the bells. 

They rang with such clarity, and joy. The happy little melody could be heard from everyone in the Autumn Court, announcing that the Eris and y/n were finally wed.  The ringing made me double over with grief, their sound a reminder that I was the only male in Prythian who could not protect his mate. A shame greater than being a bastard, and one I would carry with me until the end of my days. 

Metal on metal screeched from somewhere in the dungeon as a light poured in. The jingling of keys and stomping of boots stopped at the door to my cell and I didn’t even bother to look up. Nothing mattered anymore anyways. 

“Come on ‘Prince of Bastards’, time for you to go back to your own court,” the guard grumbled, like hauling me home was a huge inconvenience to him. 

I rose to my feet and stepped languidly out of the door. The restraints on my wrists and wings  were removed, the skin on my wrists rubbed raw from the blue stone shackles. I was led up the stairs to where the wards ended and was immediately winnowed to the border of the Autumn and Winter Court. The cold blizzards of winter whipping around us and chilling my wings. 

“Prince Eris has asked me to remind you that you are now banished from this court. He also says that should you choose to seek out his wife once more you know what the consequences will be.” the guard relayed. 

Before I could even think about punching the asshole square in his jaw he disappeared into thin air, no doubt going back to his post in the basement of the palace.

I was left with nothing but the sound of my own thoughts, and the feelings of my own guilt as I flew home towards the House of Wind where I knew Azriel was waiting. The flight was the longest one I had ever been on, as normally I took this route with y/n in my arms.

 I had never been so happy to touch down on solid ground once more. Azriel tentatively walked out onto the balcony, two glasses of whiskey in hand. His shadows told him that something was very wrong. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked, an alarm ringing in his voice. 

The lump in my throat returns as I remember how it all went down.  “The bond snapped for her, and she changed her mind. Eris found us, said he had set the whole thing up. I was stabbed with a bloodbane dagger,” I say, lifting my arm to assess the blood leaking from my side. “He told her that if she didn’t marry him he would gut me and Rhys.” 

The next words teeter on my lips as I feel my eyes brimming with tears. It felt like pieces of me were being ripped out as I finally confessed to my failure. 

“I couldn’t save her,” I choked out, voice cracking halfway through. 

The words being uttered into the world was enough to have my  knees crashing to the ground. The impact radiating through my body to the open wound on my side that still hadn’t healed.  I was sure that Azriel had said something as I heard the glasses of whiskey clatter to the ground. But the roaring in my ears was so loud, so unbearable, that the only thing that assured me he was still there was the arm he slung around my back as he knelt next to me.  

y/n’s pov:

The wedding was uneventful and to be honest the only part of it I remembered was when the priestess said, “If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” 

The silence that had fallen upon the crowd was so deafening I nearly shuddered. I was stupid to hope that he would come charging in like some fairytale I had read as a child.  The smug look on Eris' face as the priestess continued with the nuptials made my blood go cold. 

The reception was even worse. I had spent the entire time sipping wine with a bland expression on my face. It seemed as though Eris’ new favorite word was ‘wife’ considering he found a way to use it in every sentence.  While most would think it a term of endearment I knew it was just to show his ownership.

“Prince Eris, congratulations on stealing ‘The Jewel’ from us all,” a voice said, cutting across the sea of chatter. I looked up from my lap to find the High Lord of Spring, standing before our table. 

“Thank you Tamlin, she is quite the prize,” Eris crooned, placing a kiss to the back of my hand. 

“That she is,” Tamlin nodded, his eyes raking me from head to toe. “Almost makes me regret crossing her brother, I would’ve liked to have been in the race for her hand.” 

“All in the past now,” Eris smiles, kissing the palm of my hand.  “Right wife?” 

“Right,” I nod to him before turning to Tamlin. “High Lord, where is the Cursebreaker tonight? I would’ve liked to make my acquaintance.” I ask secretly hoping that my brother might catch a glimpse of his mate tonight. 

“Feyre is,” he averts his gaze from mine as if trying to decide what to say. “She is safe at home. Busily planning for the wedding.” 

“The wedding?” I inquired further, wondering if Rhys knew.

“Yes we are to be wed soon,” Tamlin beamed with pride. “I’m sure we will see you both present?” 

“Of course Tamlin, of course,” Eris assured the High Lord of Spring. 

Surely if Feyre was getting married to Tamlin my brother knew. I hoped I would get the chance to tell him. The last thing our court, well I suppose his court now, needed was another separation of mates. 

The rest of the night passed on quite slowly. At one point I was able to feel the bond between Cassian and I. It was faint, but it was there, and I almost swore that I felt him tug on it at one point. It wasn’t until people started making their excuses to go home that Eris finally said the words I had been dreading. 

“Shall we go to bed, wife?” he mused his lips brushing the shell of my ear. 

“After I say goodbye to my brother,” I nod standing up to find Rhys, wherever he was. 

“You’ll see your brother soon enough, my pet. For now let us retire to our chambers,” he growled, grasping my arm and winnowing away to what I assumed was his room.

He watched intently from behind me as I took in my surroundings. 

The bed was large, draped in furs and crisp white sheets. Wood paneling surrounded the four walls, giving the place an ornate look. The fireplace was a glow, casting a warm light upon the room. If it had been anyone else’s room it would’ve been cozy, maybe even romantic. 

The air filled with tension as I waited for Eris to do something, or say something, as I refused to turn and meet his gaze. The only sound heard was the crackling of the fire. 

“I’ve waited for this moment for quite a long time,” Eris mused from where I knew he was leaning against the door. 

“You’ve made that abundantly clear throughout our courtship,” I say straight, unable to meet his predatory stare.  

“How should I have acted when you are so tempting? So innocent, so pure, and now so completely mine,” he purred and I could hear his feet shuffle as he pushed off the wall. “And now that you’ve promised me your submission? Well,” he chuckled. “I’m going to have a great deal of fun with you.” 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I knew what was coming and I knew he wouldn’t be gentle and loving like Cassian. I knew that once again my hands were tied.  

“Tell me you belong to me,” Eris uttered, taking a step closer to where I stood rigid. 

I sucked down the lump in my throat, “I belong to you,” I whispered.

“Tell me you want me to touch you,” he went on, taking another step forward, his presence looming. 

“I-I want you to touch me,” I repeated back, a tear slipping down my cheek.

Eris hummed in approval behind me. He took one, two more steps until I felt his warmth at my back. Finger tips danced up and down the backs of my arms causing my breath to lurch in fear. His breath was hot on my neck as his presence sucked out every bit of air from the room. 

“Tell me you love me,” he purred. 

My heart stopped cold. There were many things I would have to do or say to please Eris in the millennium that I would be tied to him. But these three words? He would never hear them from my lips. Maybe towards our children, but never to him. 

“You know it wouldn't be true,” I whisper, feeling the tension radiating from his body. 

His hands grip my hips like a brand, ripping my body around until I am face to face with his seething eyes. 

“Then I will make it fucking true!” he growls hauling my mouth to his. 

Eris had kissed me a thousand times before, not one of those times did I ever enjoy the experience. But this time? This had to be the worst. All of it felt so wrong.  Knowing I had a mate. Knowing he was somewhere in this world right now. It made me sick. It was rough, all teeth and tongues. He didn’t want to kiss me, he wanted to devour me.  

“Say it!” Eris demanded, breaking apart our so-called kiss.

“I will love your hounds and your mother, I may love your brothers and one day our children, but I will never love you, Eris Vanserra,” I seethed, unable to take much more. 

I expected him to growl, or curse or hit me. I expected a thorough lashing for what I had said, but he didn’t even so much as flinch. What scared me more? His mouth curled up in a smirk. 

“You forget that you are also a Vanserra now and speaking of heirs, I think it’s time I put one in you right now,” he mused and my stomach bottomed out. “What do you say ‘Jewel of Prythian’ think I can get you knocked up on the first try?” he smiled, backing me to his bed.

There were no words for the terror I felt. No handbook to prepare me for what came next. All I could do was shut down every emotion I had and do my best to become a ghost. A shell of myself. 

No matter how hard I tried, it didn’t subdue the pain. 

Azriel’s pov: 

I thought that getting Cass drunk might help distract him from the feelings floating down the bond tonight, but boy was I fucking wrong. 

I had seen my brother lose soldiers and whole infantries. Had seen him lose his first love, the valkyrie, Tanwyn. I was there the day Rhys and y/n went under the mountain and we thought we lost them for good. 

None of that compared to the screams of agony that emanated from the male before me. 

“He’s fucking hurting her!” Cassian bemoaned, gripping the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. 

It didn’t take much to figure out that he could feel everything y/n was feeling through the bond. And at this late hour? It wasn’t hard to guess what Eris was doing to her, and Cassian had to feel every moment of it down the bond.

“Shh calm down Cass you have to try and block her out,” I pleaded with him, gripping his hand in mine. 

His eyes were glassed over, his hair tangled from him nearly ripping it out at the roots. He had been like this for well over an hour now, and I almost wished the whiskey would do its job and make him fall asleep simply so he would be unconscious. 

“I can’t Az I’ve tried,” he yells at me, nearly slumping to the side from where he sat on the floor leaning against the wall. 

Earlier Rhys had spoken into my mind and asked if everything was alright. I had lied of course, telling him everything was fine, not wanting to insert myself in my brother and the princess’ business. Now I wished I had told him to come if only for him to break into Cass’ head and make him sleep. Watching him feel everything his mate was feeling while she was being… well there weren’t words for it. 

“Breathe Cass, breathe,” I soothed, trying to get him to catch his breath long enough to breathe in and out fully. 

“I-I can’t,” he cried. “My mate.” 

His voice resonated with hopelessness and brokenness, reminiscent of the tragedies depicted in literature. This situation felt nothing short of hellish. For centuries, I longed for a mate—a bond that every fae yearned for. But witnessing how it tormented Rhysand, and observing its impact on Cassian, made me question if I truly desired a mate. In my 500 years of life, I had never seen a male stripped down to his core as profoundly as this.

y/n’s pov:

The next morning I woke up late in the day, the atrocities of last night lasting well into the early hours of the morning. It took me a moment to get my bearings. I wasn’t in the House of Wind, I was in Eris’ room. It wasn’t Cassian’s arms around me in a possessive grasp, it was Eris’.

I slowed my heartrate down enough to assess the room around me. Behind me, Eris was fast asleep, which meant I had a few moments to collect myself before he woke. I looked around the room for a second space and found a door ajar that appeared to lead to a bathroom. I saw my opportunity and took it, carefully wiggling out of Eris’ grasp. 

My body ached all over, especially between my legs, but I pushed through until I stood from the bed. I tiptoed over to the bathroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible.  Thankfully there were two robes hung on the door. The one for Eris made up of thick cotton, and the one for me made of a cream colored silk. 

I reached for the silk robe and slipped it over my bare body, noting every large bruise and handprint that littered my skin. A problem for a later time, I told myself. 

I must’ve spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom collecting myself. Constantly repeating my new found mantra. 

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

I spent so long taking deep breaths that I thought I was prepared for whatever came next. But the second I opened the door and saw Eris standing, staring down at the white sheets of the bed expectantly I knew I was sorely mistaken.

“You didn’t bleed,” Eris stated, tossing the bedsheets aside, stalking towards me. 

“What do you mean?” I replied feigning innocence like I didn’t know what he meant. 

My heart began to beat out of my chest as Eris stalked closer and closer to me. How could I have been so stupid? To overlook the one thing that meant the most to him in this entire facade.  

“Virgins are supposed to bleed the first time they are taken by a male, yet you didn’t,” he growled, stepping into my bubble as my back hit the wall. Never in my life had I felt so small.  “Which means you weren’t pure when you married me, or when you came to my bed.” 

Every nerve in my body froze over as I watched him put together the pieces. There was no telling what happened next, and the only thing I could do was beg for mercy from whatever plans Eris had for a soiled female. 

“Eris I-” 

“Did you let that Illyrian bastard deflower you?” he gritted out, a rough hand came to grip my  throat, slamming my head against the wall. 

Tears pricked my eyes. Even if I had wanted to answer, the hand on my neck wouldn’t allow me. I could only shake in terror and anticipation of what would become of me. 

“You useless, pathetic fucking whore.” he gritted, hand squeezing tighter with every insult. “Our marriage is now null and void by the traditions of my court, which means you no longer have the protection of being called my wife.” 

His hand releases my throat and I have mere seconds to suck down a breath before a harsh slap falls across my cheek, knocking the air from my lungs once again. The next thing I know I’m kneeling on the floor, clutching my face. Eris reaches out a hand to yank me up by my hair. 

“Let me show you what we do to ran through sluts in my court,” Eris spits in my face. 

His hand doesn’t relinquish its grip from my hair. Instead it begins to drag me out of the room and down the hall. My scalp is burning from the tug on my hair. He takes a back corridor reserved for servants and my bare knees bump, slice and break on the rough stone stairs leading down to wherever he’s taking me.

My hands try to find purchase on the walls around me so that I can ground myself and fight back but it’s impossible. 

“ERIS PLEASE!” I scream, but my pleas fall on deaf ears. 

We reach a basement room that drops in temperature and he finally releases me. I try to catch my breath as I watch him scribble something on a piece of paper, picking up a hammer and nail. I instantly go to cower in a corner as he walks towards me. The autumn prince pulls me out of my fetal position by my  ankles pinning me to the ground beneath his weight. 

“In case I did get you pregnant on the first try,” he seethes before I feel a sharp pain to my lower abdomen. 

I don’t look down, I can’t look down. Afraid of what I might see there when I do. My eyes roll to the back of my head as Eris grasps my arm and a cloud of darkness washes over us. 

When the shadow withdraws my bare skin is whipped and flayed by blistering cold winds. The ground beneath me is soft, but ice cold. I open my eyes long enough to see white as far as the eye can see. 

The Winter Court. 

“And just  in case you get any ideas about utilizing that so-called mating bond,” Eris speaks again before another sharp sting plunges into my side. 

White hot pain spreads from the intrusion and spreads like acid moving through my veins. I feel like the blood beneath my skin is on fire, and I almost wish it was in order to combat the blizzard around me. Only one thing could disable me like this, bloodbane. The very same used on Cassian.

“You’ve brought this upon yourself, ‘Jewel of Prythian’. I hope that bastard general was worth your life and your court. Because when Hybern comes to call it won’t be Autumn Court armies that come to your aid.” Eris says, the disgust in his voice evident. 

I can’t speak, can’t even think about anything but the agony I feel. The throb from my lower abdomen and from my side. The bite of the wind and snow on my bare skin. I can barely register the cloud of darkness as Eris winnows himself away, leaving me with nothing but a silk robe for warmth. 

I reached down with a cold hand to rip the dagger from my side. I hoped if I could stop the bloodbane from spreading that I might be able to use the bond to call Cassian. The second I discard the dagger blood stains the white snow surrounding me, and I realize my mistake. My hand grasps at the open wound, attempting to apply pressure. As I sat there, bleeding and freezing to death I thought of one thing. 

It was all for nothing.

All the pain, all the suffering. Hurting Cassian, hurting myself. It had all been for nothing. I was dying and alone, fingers and toes already losing feeling and I still had no army for my people. Cassian nowhere in sight to save my body and my soul. And I would die here knowing that it was all for nothing. 

Because time was of the essence, and no one was coming.

Part 10

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[ladystarksneedle]

A fool for you

Aemond x niece reader

Summary: A princess longs for more, mourning a loss through time

Word count: 980

Next>

Masterlist

“Final tribute, to the health of my nephews”

The words still ring in her ears as he storms out of the hall, leaving her behind yet again. She locks eyes with the woman in front, a flicker of understanding passing between them before she rushes to follow, her mother's pleas falling on deaf ears.

She doesn't call out to him as she sees him retreating into the depths of the Keep, knowing his uncanny awareness of her pursuit. As she rounds the corner trying to close the distance between them he whirls around trapping her against the wall nearby.

“What part of go to your chambers do you not understand” he growls shoving her further “Or do you wish to continue this ordeal further.”

“Keligon ziry” she pleads looking up at him. (stop it)

“Jikagon arlī. Gaoman daor jaelagon naejot ȳdragon naejot ao” he says releasing her with a frustrated grunt, lip quivering in anger. (go back, I do not wish to speak to you)

“You will not escape me qyybor, not like this,” she speaks, reaching for his arm as he moves away. “Not after what you've said tonight.”

“Do you wish to dispute the truth yet again” he laughs cruelly “It is plain for all to see.”

“Why didn't you include me in your toast then” she counters.

“Is that what bothers you? My exclusion of you in a jest” he smirks incredulously.

“Your dismissal of me, yes, continuing as if I don't exist.”

“Don't”

“Don't what” she exclaims, closing the distance between them “Why are you so intent on breaking whatever peace we may have between our families.”

“You are a fool to think there'll ever be anything but contempt between us”

“There was long ago,” she says, searching his eye for the memories that haunt her.

“What do you have to say for this” he grits, removing the eyepatch adorning his face.

She looks at the injured socket in pain, brilliant blue glinting in the dark.

“Iksan vaoreznuni” she says tears filling her eyes. (I am sorry)

“I do not want your pity” he spits, “The peace you pray for is long gone. There can be nothing that can bring it back.”

“I did not wish for this.”

“You did nothing to stop it either” he says scornfully.

“I was a child” she all but screams “We were children, I cared for you, I didn't know what to do.”

“You made your choice years ago, now you must live with it” he says dismissively, her name on his tongue cutting her just as deeply.

“Kostilus” she says pulling his face towards her “ You've known what is in my heart since we were young, I wish for you to see it still.”

“Ȳdra daor gaomagon bisa naejot aōla. Nothing good can come out of this” (don't do this to yourself)

“Are you concerned about the goodness in my actions now?”

“Someone must keep you in check,” he says reluctantly, leaning towards her.

“I've missed you” she whispers as he touches his forehead to hers, wrapping his arms around her waist. She feels him hum in response as he pulls her closer.

“I've heard you are to be betrothed” he whispers against her, stroking her head as he speaks.

“So are you, if the rumors are true. Another task you'd excel at” she says, voice tinged with jealousy. She feels him grin against her in pleasure as she scoffs in turn.

“Where are you to be sent?”

“Trying to extract more from me? I'm not as much of a fool as you think I am”

“Only in matters of the heart then” he says, pulling back to look at her.

She gulps in response as she looks at his face tinged with remorse and awe.

“I wish you'd feel the same”

“And it seems you've proven me wrong byka mittys” he chuckles. The name stings as she feels a tear slip past. (little fool)

“Must I say it now” he says, wiping it off swiftly.

She looks at him in earnest before burying her head in his chest, rumbling with laughter.

“They won't have meleqeldlie cakes there, it's too cold for anything good to thrive.”

She whips her head back in response, staring at him in confusion.

“Orange cakes” she whispers, realization dawning on her. “They think I-”

“Love lemon” he finishes. “A simple mistake yet it has caught on quite well, has it not”

“You remember”

“Well, a six year old girl clinging to my leg demanding I give up my share lest she stop crying isn't something you'd forget.”

“There are many six year olds running about now”

“None as troublesome as you” he smirks.

“I remember it differently. I didn't cry that much, merely asked for them”

“Demanded”

“Asked politely”

“There was nothing polite about your request”

“You admit it was a request then”

“A plea rather”

“I accept”

He hums in response as she chuckles happily “It is my first memory of us at that dreaded feast. I know there have been more but that has remained with me still, not because of those orange cakes and thank you for that” she laughs “But because you were the only one who was kind to me, who checked up on me when everyone left” she says tearfully “I am sorry”

The word hangs between them, as he gazes back at her “Consider it my tribute to you”

“Orange for every time you think of me?” she giggles wiping her eyes.

“Orange, for when you haunt me the most”

She clutches the scroll in her palms, pressing her nails deeper into her broken skin as she sits before the hearth. The tears on her cheeks glinting in the flames ahead as they dance mockingly in orange, a fitting tribute for her brother lost to the seas.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy

[turvi]

hi! id like to request a prof remus x prof wife that involves the reader being jealous that remus is being flirted with and he finds it cute that she’s jealous <3

Thank you for sending this request. Keep sending me requests <3 REBLOGS AND COMMENTS IF YOU LIKE THIS

Y/n is an independent and strong woman. For a long time, she had believed she needed no man to make her feel good. She was confident in herself to never fall on her knees for a man.

But not only Remus John Lupin has torn down Y/n's walls that she had built up throughout the years and brought her down to her knees, but he also made her feel something she never knew she was capable of feeling. Jealousy. She watched as a 7th-year student blatantly flirted with her husband. Oh, how the ancestors were right. Jealousy is an ugly color. And Y/n hated how she was throwing daggers at the student who leaned towards Remus too closely.

But Y/n lost her cool when the student touched Remus' arm for a second too long, giggling over a joke Remus made. Y/n rolled her eyes. It wasn't even that funny. She has heard better. Y/n started rolling the ring on her left hand. It's weird how the coldness of the metal brought warmth to her heart, reminding her of the promise she shared with Remus of spending a life with him only to be apart when death says it's time.

Remus immediately noticed the discomfort on his wife's face and excused himself, not noticing the scowl on the student's face. His eyes only focused on his Y/n. A mischievous smirk spread on his face as he saw her picking her nail clear telltale sign that she was upset about something and had no intention of sharing it with Remus. But he has his ways of making his dove speak.

Remus tugged her towards him taking her to his office but Y/n did not react even though internally butterflies were raging in her stomach. Without a word Y/n sat in his chair and picked up a worn book that was resting on his desk.

He watched her as he held back his laughter. With a coquettish grin, he approached her, his hands behind his back. "Is something the matter, dove?" he asked in a soft tone.

Y/n stubbornly shook her head, clearly enjoying the attention of the werewolf. He grinned. "If that's the case, why are you holding the book upside down?"

She gasped and instantly straightened the book in her hand. "Honey..talk to me." His voice was almost whiny as he nudged his nose on her neck.

"Why don't you talk to that student and ask her what's the matter?" Even before she could roll her eyes, Remus held her jaw gently and made her look into his eyes.

"Dove, you have my heart, my soul and my body. Then why are you so grumpy about an 18 year old when I have eyes only for you?"

He gently caressed her cheek when she revealed with a pout. "I know Remus. I just don't like it. I know I seem possessive, but even you look like you will turn into your werewolf form when a man merely looks my way."

Remus tugged her towards him again, chuckling at his own hypocrisy. "I'm sorry, dove. I didn't realise I was being hit on. But I would love to let that happen to me again if I get this reaction from you."

He laughed when she scoffed and lovingly hit him. Remus wrapped his arms around her, taking her in as she glowed under the dim lights of his office. Remus didn't believe in God but was willing to pray that God would let him spend eternity with Y/n.

As her eyes searched his eyes, Remus took this moment to kiss her passionately and deeply. His breath, his tongue clashing with hers. His arms held her possessively. Remus smirked when Y/n broke the kiss with a gasp.

"You wanna mark me up or what?" He asked her with a shit eating grin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her.

"Moony, I hate you." She finally got to roll her eyes.

With a chuckle, Remus said as he kept pressing kisses all over her face. "I love you too, dove."

A/N: Welp I tried my best. Please do tell me if you like it or hate it. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

[sir-ballister-boldheart]

Your words up on the wall, as you're praying for my fall

And the laughter in the halls and the names that I've been called

I stack it in my mind and I'm waiting for the time

When I show you what it's like to be words spit in a mic

Enemy by Imagine Dragons

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 5] [part 6]

[raineandsky]

#99

tw: stabbing

Laughter echoes off the walls around the hero, and it’s not the laughter of friends. They stumble on, trying to ignore how close it is, how this will inevitably end.

The other heroes’ voices are nothing more than ghosts carried by the wind now. This villain is smart—a group of heroes is nothing to them. A few well placed scares is all it took to split the hero off from the rest of their team.

It’s dark in these parts of the city. The only noise is faroff traffic and the breeze dancing between the buildings and that echoing laughter. The hero turns down a street, lost, confused, counting the minutes, only to find it a dead end.

They turn back too late. The villain is already standing in the entrance, the streetlight behind lighting them up like they’ve just descended from heaven itself. Like they’re some angel, if angels were massive assholes and tried to kill everyone on the regular.

Panic and instinct clash in some horrendous shrieking horror. The hero yanks their knife from their belt, ready to throw their hands up to delay the inevitable, to protect themself, to protect the others. The villain takes two long steps towards them and it’s practically over.

The hero makes a swipe and the villain sidesteps it. Another step pushes them into the hero’s space, grabbing their wrists like it’s easy. It’d be insulting if the hero wasn’t so busy praying to god knows what in the vain hope of getting out of this alive.

“[Hero],” the villain says faintly. The hero makes a desperate attempt to headbutt them and misses. “[Hero].”

A weak cry escapes the hero’s mouth. It’s pathetic, not going down with grace and fire. They want it over. If they die now, here, at least they don’t have to worry about anyone seeing them like this.

“[Hero], stop,” the villain repeats, a little harsher. “I’m trying to help you here, jeez.”

The hero stops. They can’t do anything else. Another grief stricken sob falls from their lips.

“Look, I don’t have long before those freaks inevitably find us,” the villain continues, “but you have to go home.”

The hero chokes on whatever noise was about to come out. “W–What?”

“I’m going to ruin your perception of them and I know you’re not going to believe me, but—” The villain heaves a deep breath, pinning their gaze to the hero’s sharply. “They’re going to kill you.”

A laugh tries to bubble out of the hero’s mouth but it comes out distorted. “No.”

“I’m sorry, [Hero], but I’ve seen them before.” The villain flits a glance over their shoulder, like they have the reason to be nervous. “They’ve done this to many heroes like you. Don’t go anywhere near them, okay?”

“They would never,” the hero spits, the words mangled in their dread. “They– You– You’re trying to turn me on my friends. You monster.”

The villain sighs disappointedly, defeatedly. “Just go home, [Hero]. I’ll call you a taxi.”

The villain lets go of them and steps back, their hand disappearing into their pocket. For a phone, they promised, but the hero isn’t stupid. Their hands free, their enemy’s attention diverted, they dart forward and plunge their knife into the villain’s thigh.

The noise that comes out of the villain’s mouth isn’t a nice one. The hero gives it no thought, slipping past them and back out into the street as they sink to one knee with a gasp.

“Don’t go back, [Hero]!” they call after the hero, their voice taut and grim. “Please, don’t—”

The hero’s panting and echoing footsteps drown them out.

-

The villain watches as the little gaggle of heroes appears out the agency doors. Laughing, bumping shoulders, carrying little bags for lunch. Four of them.

The hero isn’t with them.

The villain nods once to themself, picks up their bag, and leaves.

[pjo-tvs-version]

Enemy by Imagine Dragons is Annabeth's song!!!! Allow me to explain....

I wake up to the sounds of the silence that allow For my mind to run around with my ear up to the ground I'm searching to behold the stories that are told When my back is to the world that was smiling when I turned Tell you you're the greatest But once you turn, they hate us Oh, the misery Everybody wants to be my enemy Spare the sympathy Everybody wants to be my enemy(Look out for yourself) My enemy (look, look, look, look)(Look out for yourself) But I'm ready

Yeah so the first verse of the song is basically about Luke. The first three lines is literally what Annabeth was when she was a small girl. Her head was full of thoughts and she wanted to accomplish the things that other heroes had done in the stories that she had heard. Then comes the part about Luke. You see, I am 100% sure that Luke would teach Annabeth to swordfight and he would always compliment her whenever she did something well. So imagine a nineteen year old Luke ruffling Annabeth's hair as she mastered a difficult move and she grins at him and blushes at the praise. Then cut to the Titan's Curse where he mercilessly makes Annabeth hold the weight of the sky for over a day, basically backstabbing her.

Your words up on the wall as you're praying for my fall And the laughter in the halls and the names that I've been called I stack it in my mind and I'm waiting for the time When I show you what it's like to be words spit in a mic Tell you you're the greatest But once you turn, they hate us (huh) Oh, the misery Everybody wants to be my enemy Spare the sympathy Everybody wants to be My enemy (look, look, look, look) (Look out for yourself) My enemy (look, look, look, look) (yeah) (Look out for yourself)

Now the second verse is Heroes of Olympus era Annabeth. "Your words up on the wall" is the stuff Athena told Annabeth when she gave her the coin and when Annabeth pleads Athena to help her find Percy. Then the fall part is Tartarus, laughter in the halls in the caverns in New Rome is mostly Arachne. The names I've been called is again Athena. Annabeth bottles up all this inside her and when can see this prominently in Mark of Athena. The chorus here is amazing too. Aaaannnd I will draw your attention towards the line "Oh the misery." Ring any bells? MISERY THE GODDESS IN TARTARUS PLUS LITERALLY THE MISERY SHE FACED IN THEIR!!!! I think my point is proven.

Anyways, y'all really need to listen to the song because it's amazing and the minute I made this connection, I am here now typing it out.

[chrissv4mp]

tornado warnings 🌪⚠️

warnings: vulgar language, maybe gets a little sexual but not real smut, getting back with an ex (don't do this seriously its the WORST decision you'll ever make)

author's note: GUYS i am so obsessed with sabrina carpenter so i js HADDDDD to make a matt oneshot based on one of her songs!!

edit: yall are getting this early bc i couldn't wait to post it & i also just hate having stuff in my drafts!!

_____________

"matt," you laughed, stumbling over your own feet as you tried to make your way to him.

"c'mon, just a few more steps. don't fall now, darling." he joked, and you swear you felt nauseous at the thought of it.

your eyes glanced to the ground, and you forgot how high up you were. was the alcohol just making it seem higher?

you took the last few steps with caution, and right at the last one, you stepped on your shoelace, causing you to stumble forward.

"shit," matt gasped, grabbing your forearm tight but gentle enough that it wouldn't hurt. he pulled you back, the both of you falling on your asses on the roof.

matt laughed at your shocked expression, acting as if you hadn't almost broken bones. he was always like this, never feeling anything. and even if he did, he would just find it funny.

"what the fuck?" you gasped, and before you could even yell at him, you started to laugh. his laughter was contagious, everyone would agree.

his hold on you didn't last long, quickly pushing you out of his arms and getting to his feet.

your smile faded as you watches him crawl back into the house through the window, leaving you by yourself.

what kind of boyfriend does that?

you shook your head, fending off the bad thoughts and quickly thinking of how many other guys were worse. matt wasn't even a bad boyfriend.

he just... was a little scared of relationships. it was the commitment, he always said.

_____________

sighing, you stared up at the ceiling of the office, the only sound in the room being a pen writing on paper and your quiet breaths.

"so, back to what we talked about last session, your boyfriend?--"

"ex." you corrected, looking back in your therapists direction.

"oh, i'm sorry ms. y/l/n. uhm, you said you felt unwanted, but that you still believed he had a good heart, is that correct?" the man asked, looking down at the paper in his clipboard.

"yeah, yes, that's right." you breathed, fidgeting with your hands as you looked around the room.

"you also said that you planned to breakup with him, cut off all communication. have you spoken to him since said breakup?" he tilted his head, looking up from his clipboard.

shit.

"no, no i haven't. never saw him. never kissed him." you said, your voice growing quiet as you said the last words.

if he didn't see it, it doesn't exist. he doesn't have to know.

the man sighed, taking his glasses off before placing them on a table to the side, "ms. y/l/n, this is a safe space, you know that. we've been doing these sessions for a little over 7 months now, and i'm sure that you know everything you tell me in here is private and is never spoken of outside this office."

"i know, i do feel that this is a safe space. and i swear to you i'm telling the truth. im over that son of a bitch. he's the worst." your lips curved into a reassuring smile, and unsurprisingly it hadn't helped your case.

"okay," he sighed.

_____________

you glanced at the clock on the wall, sitting at the island in your kitchen as you finished up some work on your computer.

your phone was left untouched next to your mouse pad and you silently prayed that it remained silent.

the screen lit up, and an array of messages suddenly blew up your phone.

great, just what you wanted!

you didn't take your eyes off the computer screen, but as soon as you saw matts contact name in the corner of your eye, you couldn't help but grab the phone.

matt🫀: 'can i come over???'

matt🫀: 'nvm im already On my way!'

matt🫀: 'bringing snacks btw, we should watch a movie if ur down'

matt🫀: 'was gonna ask what u wanted but u take centuries to reply soooo coke and kit-kats it is :)

"what?" you whispered, chuckling quietly at his texts.

no, you can't laugh. none of this was funny, and he knows that he's crossing your boundaries right now. why does he always do this?

you: you js keep gaining red flags every day, we're not playing capture the flag, ykw that right?🚩

matt🫀: we're always playing capture the flag, the only flags i collect r green tho!💋

he couldn't be serious. was he even real?

you: sassy man apocalypse has started yet again😱

matt🫀: you take the man out of the sassy apocalypse, not the sassy out the man🤷‍♀️

you: your the worst

matt🫀: you're*

your thumb hit the power button, and not even a minute later, the doorbell rung.

having forgotten about your laptop, you quickly jumped to your feet and ran to the door. a smile was plastered on your lips, and you couldn't seem to get rid of it.

why must you always fall for his tricks. he's such a dick.

"hey, darling," he smiled, his backpack hanging off one shoulder and a plastic grocery bag hanging off the other.

his pet name caught you off guard, and you swore your knees almost gave out. no man has ever made you as weak as matt has.

who does he think he is?

"hi, matt." you smiled, and he didn't hesitate when he leaned down to kiss you.

your hand went to his chest, pushing him back and moving your head to the side even if your hand kept him back.

he scoffed in fake offense, pulling away, "you're no fun, y'know?"

"i'm fully aware." you laughed before moving to the side to let him in.

he went straight to your room, having known your house so well since he had been living with you for a while before.

all doubtful thoughts were thrown out the window as you made your way to the bedroom. you caught matts eye as you made you walked in.

"c'mere," he smiled, gesturing you over with a wave of his hand, "what movie should we watch?"

you couldn't help but smile, almost forgetting all the prominent red flags that he had. he was the worst.

or maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought. maybe it was just you.

he was good for you. he kept you on your feet, kept you grounded.

"baby." he said, his voice breaking you out of your thoughts, "come here,"

matt smiled as he patted the empty spot next to him, and you wasted no time in getting on the bed and situating yourself beside him.

his hand grazes your thigh as he reaches over you for the remote, turning the TV on before scrolling through endless amounts of movies.

"superhero movie?" he asked quietly, looking over at you as you shook your head.

"wow, surprising." he joked, clicking through some more movies that didn't catch either of your eyes.

matt ditched the remote on what used to be his nightstand before he rolled over to face you.

his eyes were still that deep blue that you loved, and the smirk on his face didn't help as you tried to look away.

"i missed you," matt muttered, his voice soft as his fingers danced along the skin of your arm.

your breath hitched as his hand found the hem of your shirt and went under it, that stupid smirk on his face making it impossible for you to deny him.

"matt, we can't--"

"shh," his lips were dangerously close to yours now, and you didn't even want to question how he got so close to you in just a few seconds.

"there's not a rule that we can't, and we both know you need this. just let me relieve your stress, yeah?"

what the fuck is matthew sturniolos secret.

his hand traveled further up your shirt until it landed on your breast, and you couldn't help the gasp that escapes your lips as he squeezed it.

with his free hand, he propped himself on top of you, knees on either side of your body as he leaned down to your lips.

you couldn't resist him, not now that he was corrupting all your senses. all you knew was him now.

"no, matt." you muttered against his lips, your hand gentle against his chest as you tried but failed to push him away.

you couldn't do this anymore. it was killing you. he didn't want anything more than just a fuck-buddy and you both knew that.

so why was it so hard to push him away?

"matt," you gasped as you felt his lips on your neck, his smell intoxicating as your eyes fluttered shut.

no, you wouldn't do this anymore.

"matt, get off." your gentleness was gone now as you pushed him with real strength, he didn't give a single fuck about you, really.

the boy didn't hesitate to stop, quickly climbing off you before plopping right back next to you on the bed.

"shit, i'm sorry, baby." he muttered, real worry in his voice.

you shook your head, sitting up as you covered you face with your hands.

"please, just leave. we can't do this anymore. seriously." you sighed, tears pricking in your eyes.

"but--" matt tried, but you cut him off just as he was about to start begging.

"get out, matt." your hands went back to your sides, but you didn't dare look at him.

he would only reel you back in.

the boy sighed, frowning as he collected his stuff slowly.

he stopped when he reached the doorway of your bedroom, turning back to look at you, and this time you looked back.

"i do love you, y/n." he said quietly before leaving, shutting the door gently.

your lips parted as you took in the words that had just left his mouth.

no, it was a lie. it always was.

it wasn't true, right?

this was just another red flag to add to the list. all the lies he'd say.

fuck, he drives you crazy.

. . .

[artficlly]

a dish served cold (mini series - part two)

Wild West Marvel AU

outlaw!bucky x reader after the murder of your pa, you go on a journey to find justice. fate brings you to crimson junction for a reason, and that reason is bucky barnes. 

Warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, sexual tension, guns, knives, violence, mention of death of a parent, mention of gambling, mention of sex work, creepy men, period typical attitudes, outlaw bucky, protective bucky, bucky has issues, mention of robbery & crimes, mention of police (law), mention of bounty hunters, mention of flooding & drought, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: chapter two!! please let me know if you're enjoying this wild ride so far!! if you're enjoying the western au stuff i have two one-shots (me & the devil and king of pentacles) that you should check out!! they are linked on my main masterlist <3 if you'd like a tag list let me know. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

If the town of Crimson Junction had thought the pack of unruly travellers had reached their peak of restlessness, they were sorely wrong. The locals were now truly at their wits end. Two afternoons had passed, and chaos had descended. Men turned to drink to quell their boredom and sin followed as it always did. Brawls had broke out in mass, the hotel in ruins as rooms were used as makeshift whorehouses and gambling dens. You were kept up all night as the screaming, laughter, and moaning ensued around you. Violence, indulgence, and wickedness ran rampant through the streets. You had grown to expect nothing less of the once sleepy town. 

The noise did not particularly bother you. You were kept up most nights regardless, tossing and turning at the thought of Barnes. Your dreams would replay the scene from the saloon, a moving picture beneath your eyelids. In your dream, you would beam at him, fluttering your eyelashes, while the outlaw watched on with his cold, blue eyes. He would stalk towards you, his callused hand stroking down your cheek. The dream you would lean into his touch, nuzzling his palm. Then he would wrap his hand around your throat, gripping you tightly. You would struggle, breathlessly clawing at him. His expression would be blank. Unphased.

You would awake, drenched in a cold sweat as breathless as in the dream. 

Even when you were awake, you’d think of him still. His visage was so clear in your mind that it drove you to near insanity. He clung to you like smoke, your thoughts utterly consumed by him. You’d recall how his knuckles grew white or how his jaw clenched. You’d stare up at the ceiling, watching the sun rise and fall. You’d trace the patterns on the wallpaper and the creases on the sheets. 

In the room beside you, the bed would squeak and bang. The force was so powerful and loud that the walls shook. Your hands would ghost across your bare skin, along your thighs, waist, and collarbone. Still, you’d think of him, Barnes. How long had he plagued your thoughts and your life? How long would he haunt you still? Was he the ghost, or were you? Permanently intertwined never to know a day of peace until your work was done. 

The next time your mind wandered to him, your finger tracing the contour of your lower lip, you bit down hard on that finger until you swore you could taste blood. 

—

When the news of a meeting made the rounds, you were relieved. The flowery wallpaper in your room was growing rather nauseating to stare at. A break from your slow spiral into lunacy was welcome news. Fresh air, you decided, would do you well, even if a rather suffocating and sticky heat had descended upon the canyons now that the rains had passed. 

The mud had begun to dry in the midday sun, a thick skin developing and some sections cracking. The dry weather was a good omen for once. You didn’t think Crimson Junction had ever prayed for the sun to return. The pastor announced that the roads were predicted to be cleared by the end of the week, and the entire crowd breathed a sigh of relief. You couldn’t help but think it was the most civil you had seen them in your short stay. Maybe it was that natural reaction of fearing God and therefore his preachers. Though, after all you had witnessed, you were surprised the small town even had a church. It was even stranger that it seemed Crimson Junction was led by one, as there was no other authority present.

Not even a sheriff's office. 

That did seem rather convenient. 

The pastor spoke of his gratitude for the travellers patience and his admiration for the workers and survivors. You did not find his words particularly interesting, no matter how heartfelt they were. You had spent countless Sundays in church; it was instilled within you to zone out at the droning words of a preacher. You had been a good girl, yes, but never a good Christian. Hands tightly clasped together and chin high, your eyes had remained locked onto the back of a familiar head. 

Barnes stood mingled within the crowd; you could see him well from your vantage point on the wooden porch of the general store. You stood alongside the other ladies who didn’t want to join the men crowded in the mud. You couldn’t help but notice how Barnes also did not seem to care for heartfelt speeches; instead, his attention was swayed away. You might have thought him to be bored of pastors and the almighty house of God, but you watched as his head repeatedly tilted in the direction of a small group of men who were huddled in front of an alley. The longer you watched the outlaw eye these men, the more you realised that the group of men eyed him back in return. 

The men looked intimidating, dressed in black, and armed to the teeth. Well-polished guns were slung over their backs, bandoliers over their chests, and hair slicked back as they snickered between each other in a cloud of smoke. Their grins were vicious, bearing their teeth like wild dogs. 

As the crowd dispersed, you moved with it. Through the layers of bodies, you watched as Barnes quietly dipped away in the direction of the stables and away from the group of men. He viewed them as a threat. Your curiosity peaked. The outlaw had always presented himself as untouchable, stone-like…an unmoveable force. It had never occurred to you that the most dangerous predator in the room might be prey to something bigger. 

As soon as you were sure that there was enough distance, you followed the smoke quietly and discreetly, listening to their distant conversation. The pack of men paused around the corner of the alley, half standing in the street. The rough stone wall snagged against your clothing as you pressed your back flush against the surface. You inched closer to the end of the alley, your ears perking as you listened closely.

“I reckon he’ll be headed further west, tryna disappear into the desert.” One man spoke.

“How ya know he ain’t goin’ up north to join up with that buddy o’ his?” Said another.

“Nah, last I heard, he was doubling back east to throw off the scent.”

Your brows furrowed at their words, and you sucked in a sharp breath. A part of you was paranoid that the men might hear your breathing, or perhaps even your thundering heart. Your nails dug into the wall, the stone indenting into your palms. Were they foolish enough to publicly speak their plans, unaware of how their voices carried? That indicated arrogance. Bigger fish, indeed. 

Your moment of thought was short-lived.

There was a slight rustle in your left ear, a shift in the air. With quick and calculated hands, you shifted your weight, your hand darting to your boot like a viper striking flesh. Within a split second, you had a small blade in your palm, the metal angled to harm as you drove it forward. The man next to you had no time to react, instead freezing in place as you pressed the blade against his throat. 

It took a few seconds for the two of you to process, your eyebrows knitting into a frown as you realised who had slid up beside you. Barnes. When had he sneaked up behind you? 

“Woah there, darlin’.” The outlaw grumbled lowly, lifting his hands in surrender. You held steady, scanning his face as you calculated your next move. You were a fool to think the outlaw would not notice you. A supposed simple girl and bride-to-be should not be stalking a group of dangerous individuals. It did raise the question of how long he had been watching you and assessing your character. Had he grown suspicious so easily after all the precautions and lies? 

“Apologies. You startled me.” You slipped back, taking a large step within eyesight of the street. The group of men had now walked away, a cloud of smoke in tow. You watched as they sauntered into the saloon. Releasing a sharp breath and relaxing your shoulders, you straightened your spine. Giving Bucky a convincing smile, you acted as if nothing had happened. 

“I can see that. And I can see ya weren’t jokin’ about bein’ able to handle yerself in these parts.” The outlaw huffed, his hands lowering, and his fingers twitched around his belt line. Monitoring him warily, you were ready to react to the slightest indication that he might draw. “But I’m beginnin’ to think ya weren’t too forthcomin’ about who ya really are in the saloon the other night.”

You angle your head at him, jaw tightening. You hoped you hadn’t wasted weeks of travel and planning for it all to be thrown away due to your misguised decision to play investigator. Your fist squeezed around your blade then, nostrils flaring as you allowed an intrusive, violent thought to flicker through your mind. This place, this evil place, and it’s vile people were already beginning to corrupt you. With a sigh, you tuck the knife back into your boot. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Mister.”

With your knife visibly out of sight, Barnes relaxes a little. His gaze swept over you, inspecting every detail of your outfit, before finally resting on your face. "Nah, it’s not… Just… don’t know why you’d be lookin’ to pick a fight with a group’a men like that.”

You viewed those men as competition, but you knew Barnes would not like your answer. So, you held your tongue, lifting your skirts as you turned to leave. The wooden boards squelched under your weight as you stepped further into the street. You’d never thought you would have missed the sand and dust, but you were beginning to find that you much preferred it to mud. 

“Y’know, if you’ve got a price on yer head… and I ain’t sayin’ you got one but rather… a hypothetical, if I may. If you were runnin’ from something, I wouldn’t be worryin’ about those boys back there. They're lookin’ for bigger fish to fry than yerself. I suspect they would not take a second look in yer direction, ‘least not all dressed up like a proper lady like you is. You had me fooled, that’s for sure.” 

Just as you had suspected. No wonder he had turned tail at the sight of them. You glanced over at him, observing as he kept up pace with you as you walked towards the hotel. “And what would you know of bounty hunters, Mr. Clark?”

He perked up at your words and let out a low whistle. “Best I not tell you, Miss.”

You smiled at that, then caught yourself. And idiot you were to find him somewhat charming, and an idiot you would continue to be if you were distracted. 

“Where’d a lady like yerself learn to arm herself with a knife?” Barnes seemed unnerved by your silence, instead filling it with a question. Uncharacteristic of him, at least from what you had interpreted from his nature so far. A change from his attitude in the saloon, that was for sure. 

“My Pa taught me,” you hummed in response. You couldn’t help but let a small, warm smile cross your lips at the thought of him. He had been a hardy man, always covered in sweat and ash. Still, the two of you had been close. He had always shown you respect and kindness, no matter your differences. “He and my Ma, well, they raised me to be a wife. My Ma wanted to set me up for a good life and hoped I would marry well.”

Your eyes cast over to the outlaw, who still followed your lead down the sunken street. He was enraptured by your words; his icy eyes locked onto your side profile. You continued your story, smile still tugging at the corners of your lips. “It was always about holdin’ one's posture straight, being charmin’ and pleasin’ to the eye. Cookin’, sewin’, washin’ and all that. My Pa, he said it was all well and good that I could balance books on my head while descendin’ a set of stairs or tap out a melody on a pianoforte, but it could only get one so far in life. Much to my Ma's horror, he taught me to handle a knife and guns too.”

Barnes was quiet, running his tongue over his bottom lip. You found yourself wondering if he had caring parents or if they had been strict and cruel. Were they still alive? Did they weep within every time they saw his face plastered on a bounty board? 

“Why ain’t your daddy escortin’ you now?” The outlaw finally spoke up, a cruel snip to his tone. 

Your eyes darted away from him, and your smile was replaced by a frown. “He’s dead.”

His steps falter, as if momentarily taken aback. 

“Oh–” is all he manages, stumbling over his words. His brows furrow. “I–I’m–”

“He was shot.” You cut over him. Taking a sharp, deep breath, you turn your head to look at him fully. You offer him a sympathetic look, then catch yourself. As if he were the one who needed comforting. “He was a blacksmith. I have no other male relatives, and of course my Ma and I can’t do the work to run the business.”

“That’s why yer marryin’.” Barnes states, his voice sounds thick and he is unable to catch your eye. There was a sense of guilt that seemed to engulf his very being, as if your story momentarily summoned old ghosts. Haunted. 

You were glad to see him squirm. 

“Yes.” You reply, shoulders lifting in a weak shrug. “We sold the forge, but we can’t access the money. My savings—our savings—will be for my husband to handle once we are married. I will send funds back to my Ma, and all will be well again.”

“I’m sorry.” The outlaw offers, brows still drawn inward, crowsfeet etched into his skin. “That’s hard.”

You tilt your head in contemplation, then offer a simple reply. “That’s life.”

It was strange to think how easy it was to pretend you were comfortable with your position. That would had simply… come to terms with your new life. It was easy to put on a play and show the world what they wanted. A woman in complete control, despite the misfortune that had followed her. 

The outlaw was right to feel unnerved by your casual disposition, because deep down, grief and rage boiled within you.

Pausing at a gap in the wooden boards, you raised your skirts in order to cross. Before you could walk into the mud, Barnes had circled around you. He offers a calloused hand, which you hesitantly took. With a strange gentleness to his grip, he guides you across the small gap onto the next row of wooden boards. 

“Well, I hope they find the bastard who shot him.” He offers. 

You almost laugh at the irony. Your head dips to hide the amused expression that slips past, strands of hair falling across your face. Barnes seems to interpret your actions as sorrow, as if the mention of your father had left you overcome with emotions. You do not protest as he shamefully leads you directly to the hotel porch, pausing to escort you up the slippery steps. 

“I hope so too.” You finally reply, your voice low, and drop his hand. Stepping into the hotel, you do not allow him time to speak another word.

—

A gentleman outlaw, or maybe he was an outlaw who happened to be a gentleman. You pondered this for a while as the heat beat down, leaving a thin layer of sweat across your body. Your horse swayed beneath you, hooves steady, as she navigated the desert terrain with ease. She was a piece of home; melancholy would linger in your gut whenever you breathed in her scent. Your fingers twisted through the mare’s mane, lacing together like a tightly woven braid. It was a problem to weigh, for sure. Could a gentleman be an outlaw? And what defines a gentleman? You knew of many supposed gentlemen who fell pray to indulgence, too many drinks, whores, and gambling. Gentlemen who reeked of desperation, sullen and shallow creatures. You had known gentlemen to be cruel, to be kind, to be ignorant, or even to be fools. In your mind, you could see no difference between a gentleman and an outlaw, because both could be evil as equally as they could be kind. 

Barnes had shown you kindness, yet he was a killer. He was an outlaw; that was printed as a fact, but could he be a gentleman too? You had always been taught to believe things in the world worked a certain way, ticking perfectly on time like a clock. Every second, the world would bring good things to good people and rain wrath upon those who sinned. But that illusion had been shattered many months ago when you were thrown into the world of men, unprotected and blind. Outlaw and gentleman, one in the same. It worried you.  

You had travelled no more than five miles from Crimson Juction before dismounting your horse. 

The roads had opened up early in the morning, giving you time to gather supplies, saddle your horse, and leave town unbothered. Your remaining time in the small crossroads town had been without event, sticking to your rooms and steering clear of drunk men and dangerous outlaws. Sometimes you sat at your window, watching the town move on with their days below you. You told yourself it was entertainment, a form of people watching, not a pathetic attempt to catch a glimpse of the dark-haired and broad-chested outlaw. 

You ran a hand across your mare's chestnut coat, leaning down as you traced your hand down to her fetlock. You squeezed her leg, clicking your tongue as a quick instruction for her to lift her hoof. You placed it solidly between your thighs, pushing your skirts out of the way. Blowing a loose strand of hair from your face, you squinted down at the dirt-packed hoof. Your index finger traced the metal shoe with your finger, feeling each divet of the nails.

The crunch of rock was what alerted you to his presence first, whipping your head around to see Barnes atop his horse, armed with one of his distant looks. You smiled and pretended to look pleasantly surprised, wondering if he truly believed you had not noticed him tailing you for the past two miles. Dropping the hoof, you praised your mare with a quick pat on her muscled shoulder. 

“Have you come to be my knight in shinin’ armour again?” You asked the outlaw, raising a hand to your brow, blocking the light from the sun. 

“Depends.” Barnes grunted, sliding from his saddle. “Somethin’ wrong with yer horse?”

You sigh, rubbing the sweat from your forehead. You twist around to look back at your mare, your skirts twirling around you as you motion towards her hoof. “She was limpin’, poor girl. I think her shoe is loose.”

“I can take a look, if’chu want?” Bucky offered. He was still as foreboding as you had remembered, his stature taller than and his build wider. The sleeves of his buttoned-up shirt were rolled up to the elbow, revealing toned forearms kissed by the sun. 

“Oh. Could you? I would be grateful.” Your hand comes to rest on your chest, and the outlaw grunts with a shrug. You step out of his way as he advances towards your mare, whispering to her quietly as he takes her hoof in his large palms to inspect. 

You watch him, wondering if he was blinded by the sun or simply by you. He hadn’t once stopped to ask questions before putting himself in such a vunrable position, nor did his eyes drift towards the rifle tucked neatly into your saddle. How funny it was that he did not enquire why you were travelling alone on horseback, when mere days before you had told him your husband-to-be had paid for your safe arrival by coach. 

“I don’t think there's anythin’ wrong with the shoe. Maybe there's a rock or somethin’ under all that dirt.” He mused and pressed his thumbs inward to see if your mare jerked in reaction. Still, not once did he look up, and not once did he question his safety. He did not seem to notice as you silently slid up besides your mare, tugging the rifle from the saddle.

You held your breath as you circled back around, the wooden stock of the gun placed firmly against your shoulder as you aimed the barrel at his head. 

“Are yer sure she was limpin’? Maybe it’s the other side.” The outlaw muses, engrossed in his own thoughts.

“You could check if you like, Mr. Barnes.” You reply, your voice as sweet as ever. 

It takes him a moment to click. He shakes his head, then freezes. “I ain’t never said my name was Barnes.”

You hold steady, digging your boots into the soil as Bucky slowly straightens up. His back faces you, and you can picture his muscled back beneath. Somehow the outlaw appeared more foreboding while collected and calm. He gradually turned. Maybe he had made himself smaller in your previous meetings so as not to scare you. Your heart thumped wildly, sweat slicking along your palms. He met your gaze, careful and slow, as his body faced you, hands raised in a quiet surrender. 

You had to pray you weren’t being overconfident in your approach, or this could go very badly. 

“I knew your name long before we met.” Your hands remained still, and the gun remained aimed. You observe him through the sights as he arches an eyebrow. 

“Did I do somethin’ to you?” There was an unexpected anguish in his voice that hit you solidly in the gut. Your jaw clenches and your teeth grit as you remain silent. You had practiced this moment in your mind countless times, orchestrating your every movement and perfectly articulating your feelings and your story. But your jaw remained wired shut, any plans thwarted, because you were horrified to find you were teetering on the edge of sobbing. 

“You know, I thought we was startin’ to become friends.” He speaks up once more, daring to take a step forward. You hiss through your teeth, striding towards him to ram the barrel into his chest.

“Drop your guns. Slowly.” You instruct. 

There is a long instant of silence between the two of you, only the slight howl of the wind through the vast rock canyons. His movements slowed once more, and his hands hesitantly dropped to his belt. Your finger ghosts over the trigger as he carefully removes his guns, dropping them to the ground with a soft thud. 

With one sweep of your foot, you kick the two pistols away, backing off a few paces. With a tut, you motion for him to step further away from the horses. He turns away from you, walking in the direction you indicated. With a sigh, he speaks up, cutting through the tense silence. “We can talk about this, ya know. Before you go puttin’ a bullet in me, sweetheart.” 

You glare at him before huffing. “Get on the ground, lay on your stomach or I’ll shoot.” 

Only as his body lay flat on the ground did you drop your aim. Still eyeing him, you back up towards your horse and grab the rope looped around the horn of your saddle. Your heartbeat nearly deafened you as you fumbled with the length, nerves beginning to show. You didn’t know what he made of you or what he thought you were. But now there were real stakes at hand—no opportunities to mess up. 

Perhaps you were too preoccupied by those thoughts, or maybe your pulse had truly made you deaf. You didn’t notice the cloud of dust or the pounding of hooves until it was too late. 

Abandoning the rope, you gripped your rifle once more, aiming it at the small group of men who had appeared from the canyons. Chest heaving, you watched as the leader smiled, his slicked-back hair obscured beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Spitting on the ground, he looked between you and Barnes, who remained on the ground, but his head was turned to watch. 

“Good catch, Miss. Too bad I’m gonna have to take him off yer hands.” 

PART THREE

[minhyeong]

&. 𝐨𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐦

genre: fluff | word count: 933

↳ "Would you still love me if I were a worm?"

It was nearly four in the morning and after being tormented by your restlessness, Chenle was genuinely starting to wonder if he were legally allowed to glue your limbs down to the bed and tape your eyes shut so you were forced to fall asleep. You rolled onto your back not so gently, the mattress dipping under your weight as you yanked the shared blanket off your shoulders and tucked it under your arms.

A breeze annoyingly slapped Chenle in the face as you adjusted the blanket, your elbow jabbing him right in the waist. He huffed again for perhaps the 20th time within the past two hours, praying that you would get the obvious hint that he was beyond annoyed by his sleep deprivation. His vision was hazy as he stared at the wall beside him through drooping eyelids. The regret weighed him down; he should've wrestled that evil large cup of latte with two extra espresso shots out of your hands when he still had the chance a few hours ago.

You knew he was awake even with his back facing you. The box spring squeaked as you shifted again and wriggled your way across the bed, closing the small distance in between until Chenle could feel your breath down his neck. The tips of your hair tickled his cheek as you hovered above him, elbow digging into the side of his pillow as you propped yourself up.

The first tap on his arm was ignored. The second poke on his shoulder blade got brushed off with a swipe of his hand. The following incessant nudges on his waist were begrudgingly acknowledged.

“Do you want me to put on some nursery lullabies for you? I’m begging you to go to sleep.” Chenle expelled a soft whine and dragged his heavy limbs inward, curling up at the very edge of the bed to create more distance from you.

“I have a really important question,” you mumbled as you reached over and clawed at his shirt, bunching up his exposed sleeve in your grasp and tugging.

He was baffled, features scrunching together as he pondered just how important this question could possibly be that you spent hours tossing and turning. Chenle gradually rotated his body toward you.

The sliver of light entering through the window highlighted the redness in his eyes. You flinched, a little apologetic.

“What is it?”

“Would you still love me if—"

“No.” His expression flattened, all curiosity vanishing when he realized where this conversation was going.

Your jaw dropped faster than gravity pulling at Newton's apple. You sputtered at his immediate response, leaning back in shock. “You didn’t even let me finish! If i turned into—"

“A worm? I know," he drawled lazily along with the yawn he let out. "My answer is still no.”

It was quiet for a few moments. The ticking of the clock was almost irritatingly loud as you peered at him searching for even the slightest hint that he was simply joking. "So you mean if I were a worm," you carefully inquired again, "you wouldn't love me?"

Chenle shook his head, face unreadable, gaze steady as he stared right back at your scrutinizing eyes.

You took note of the dark eye bags that seemed to sink all the way down to his cheekbones and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, just maybe, he was too tired to hear the question correctly, you thought. “Then would you still love me if I were a spider?”

“No.”

The way he kept his resolution nearly knocked you off the bed. You froze in a speechless stupor, mouth growing dry with how long you've been gasping at his response. It took everything for him to hold in his laughter as he maintained eye contact with you.

You finally closed your mouth with a scowl, looking away and unconsciously turning your body so you weren't directly facing him anymore. "Well, why wouldn't you love me?"

He shrugged. “You might bite me if you turn into a spider. Do I look like I’m ready to be the next Spider-Man? Of course not.”

“Mean!” You reached out and slapped his torso in the dark before tugging the blanket all the way back up to your ears and rolling to the opposite end of the bed, making sure to drag the blanket along with you. The cold air seeped into his clothes as you left him exposed.

Chenle didn’t even flinch. He sensed you fuming and let out a soft giggle behind your back that faced him like an unbudging brick wall.

You shrugged him off when he buried his head in the crook of your neck for some warmth. "Go away," you muttered, sliding dangerously close to the edge of the bed, but he trailed not too far behind.

The tip of his nose bumped into your shoulder as he pushed forward. He draped an arm and a leg around you and tugged you close until you could feel the gentle drum of his heart. You didn't resist when he pressed a kiss to your spine. There was a tenderness that slowly melted your annoyance. You had to fight to keep the frown on your lips.

“I'll love you even if you turn into a pile of fly infested dog poop,” Chenle declared in a whisper, voice trailing off as his eyelids closed involuntarily.

You laughed, shifting in his hold as you began to relax in your position, then did a double take.

"Wait, why does that sound even more insulting than calling me a worm?"