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The Master (2p!England X reader) 3"Oh, miss y/n~""Wake uuup~!" Someone sang. You opened your eyes and blinked couple times."What the fuck? Where the hell am I??" You asked. Suddelny you felt a hand in front of your mouth and saw blood-red eyes looking at your e/c ones."NEVER. I say NEVER swear in here! Master doesn't like it at all!" Bekka said. You saw fear in her eyes. You nodded and she sighed. She took her hand off your mouth and sat in front of you on the floor. You realized, that you were tied to a chair."Now." Bekka said. "I'll tell you some rules. Rule number 1: Never swear. Rule number 2: Don't eat Masters cupcakes. They might kill you. Rule number 3--""Wait WHAT??" You asked and looked at Bekka in shock. She looked at you and smirked."Mey I continue?" Bekka asked. You gave a little nod, but you really didn't want to know."Okay, Rule number 3: Don't talk to Masters friends, if he doesn't told you so.""Why?" You asked. She looked at you again and chuckled. What's wrong in her?"They might rape you~" She
Spain X Reader: Not The Only OnesThe ground began to fade away from beneath your feet. You felt an icy mist covering your bare legs. It made you feel vulnerable, the exact opposite of what you let on to others. You felt exposed, left in nothing but a simple white gown.Your arms, face and legs began to get encompassed by the strange mist. It had no origin and simply existed out of thin air. Your hands waved at your sides, trying to cast the mist away. As you moved your left hand, a gentle tug followed. The hand pulled itself back to its original position at your side.Quickly, your head snapped to said hand. Your eyes widened in disbelief at what you saw.A red string was tied to your ring finger. It was wound around the slender digit tightly. However beyond that, the string continued away from your hand. Its single thread jutted into the distance.Your mind was fogged and beginning to slowly drift away. A nagging voice in the back of your head urged you to follow the peculiar red cord, nevertheless.Your movements we
SpainXReader: Jealousy (Part6)You lie on your stomach lazily in the couch with head buried to the sofa pillows the next day. You could hear your phone ringing and vibrating somewhere in the corners but you didn’t even bother answering or checking who the caller was. You knew it was the same brunette Spaniard calling you after like 15 tries last night, including the landline. Your phone’s memory was probably full from TONS of unread text messages, and you angrily disconnected the telephone last night. At the moment, you didn’t want to hear anything from Antonio. You always had given unworthy people chances but you gave him ‘too’ many.A groan quietly left your lips in the soft pillows, sure you were infuriated with the Spaniard but you didn’t have to call him an idiot yesterday. You should’ve just simply pointed out his mistake; he must have felt terrible when you called him that—especially, in his own language. You had no idea how “Eres un idiota” go